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Hello! This is the first (and so far only) ABDL story I've written. I finished it last fall and posted it on Reddit and now I'm putting it and any future stories I write up here too. It's a DL slice of life story about a couple in their thirties with the boyfriend in diapers 24/7. It contains detailed descriptions of diaper usage as well as changing. I hope you like it! Feedback/criticism is welcome. I kept the two characters in this story nameless but plan to name them next time I write about them. A Change After Work It had been a few months since she and I decided to make the dynamic 24/7. After we had moved in together the pipeline from wearing around her to her more actively participating was surprisingly quick. Of course, making it a full time thing was her suggestion. Though it came with its own set of hurdles the payoff was more than worth it to both of us. I loved being in diapers, and she loved keeping her boyfriend in diapers. Now that we were in our early thirties, we had realized that it was worth living in a way that made us happy. After all, it was harmless at the end of the day. As I walked down the hallway to our apartment I felt the familiar pressure down inside and knew what was coming. My tummy was early today. Normally this didn't happen for a couple hours or so. Oh well. I thought to myself as I approached our door. She'll be able to take care of it soon enough. Shouldn't be more than a half hour before she gets home. After entering and locking the door behind me I loosened my belt before unbuttoning my pants and pulling the zipper down. I let gravity take the reigns from there so that my grey pants ended up in a heap around my feet. I stood for a moment and ran a hand over the smooth plastic now on display. This particular diaper had little drawings across the tape landing zone of various cartoon characters, from Looney Tunes to The Simpsons. She liked doodling on my diapers when we opened up new packs and I was more than happy to be a walking display for her art. A small portion of the front had turned yellow, with squishy gel replacing the fluffy filling. It could hold plenty more though. Normally I'd be a lot soggier by now, but today we had synced up our lunch breaks so we could eat together. While I was there she also gave me a quick change. I bent over and removed my shoes, leaving my tan shirt and black socks as the only non-disposable clothing I had on. The pressure continued to build but my body wasn't quite ready yet. I picked up my pants and emptied the pockets onto the table nearby before passing through the living room on the way to our bedroom. I tossed them into the hamper along with my polo and socks, as they were work clothes. Now naked except for my diaper, I walked to the closet and picked a green t-shirt that was my typical size aside from being short enough that the hem sat just above my diaper's waistband. She had customized some shirts for me to show off more of the goods when we were at home. I opted to go without socks for now. I walked back to the living room, my diaper crinkling as I went. I grabbed my phone from the table and a glass of water from the kitchen before heading for the couch. As I swapped what I was carrying for the remote on the end table, the pressure had finally turned into urgency. There was no reason to wait any longer. After all, why bother holding it? I wear diapers. I bent my knees slightly and gently pushed from within. I grunted softly as my body began to handle the rest naturally. Discomfort was replaced by satisfying relief. There was a muffled squishing sound as the remnants of the last day's meals filled the back of my padding, the semi-solid mass forming a considerable bulge in the back. At the same time I peed a little involuntarily. I sighed contentedly as I finished pooping my diaper. I felt as though not only had my bladder and bowels been relieved but my mind as well. As if the stress of the day's shift spent moving to and fro in a warehouse, fulfilling orders for everything from electronics to frozen foods, had also been pushed into the padded seat. A telltale odor hung in the air around me. I reached back and gingerly cupped my diaper seat in my hand, assessing the damage. My eyes widened. This was a big one even for me. Slowly I lowered myself onto the couch, reveling in the warm feeling of the mess spreading over my butt. There was just nothing else quite like it. Suddenly I heard the buzz of my phone vibrating. I picked it up and saw she had sent me a text. "A coworker's running late so I'll be here an extra hour. Stay out of trouble til then, diaper boy." An emoji of a face with tongue out and winking accompanied the text. Whelp, guess I'm not getting changed for awhile... "I make no promises." I replied, adding a smirking emoji. I didn't mind some extra time to enjoy my full diaper but hoped that the longer wait wouldn't lead to a rash. I shrugged as I figured it couldn't be helped. After all, changing myself was out of the question. I decided to get the daily chores done before she got home. Normally we'd knock them out together but her day was turning out to be long. Not to mention that now she'd be changing a poopy diaper when she got home. Even though she liked taking care of me, it was still work. I quickly went about my tasks, getting them done in about half an hour. There's something about doing chores while diapered that makes the process less dull and more efficient. Since I had some extra time to kill until she got home I decided to play a video game. I grabbed the controller and loaded my save in an open world adventure game I'd been playing through. I sat down with a squish as I focused on the game, quickly becoming absorbed in its virtual world. Occasionally I would wet my diaper a bit more causing it to gradually become more swollen in the front and crotch. After finally overcoming an especially tough boss fight I checked the time. It wouldn't be long until she got here. I closed the game and turned off the TV. As I relaxed on the couch I heard the door being unlocked. "Hey!" I called out as she locked the door behind her. "Hi! What have you been up to?" She said as she got her shoes off. "Not much. Was just playing a game." I said. I knew it was just a matter of time until she discovered how badly I needed my diaper changed. "Did you finally beat that boss that kept kicking your butt?" She asked as she headed my way. Before I could answer she stopped and curiously sniffed for a second. She looked at me with a knowing smirk. "Come here." She said coyly. She beckoned me with her finger to come to her. I walked over, a conspicuous crinkling following me as I did. "Turn around." She said. Again I silently obeyed, spinning around in place so my back was to her. I crossed my arms. I knew what she was up to, of course. I felt a finger slip into the waistband of my diaper tug it away. "Yikes!" I heard from behind me as she peeked into the seat of my diaper. "What happened back here, big guy?" She let my waistband snap back into place and patted my squishy tush a couple of times. I felt my face getting warm. Even after all this time moments like these were still a thrill. "Nature called, and I answered." I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Though I'm not sure how successful I was. "It must have called through a megaphone." She gave the bulging seat a good squeeze. "When did it happen?" "Um, right after I got home." So you spent like an hour playing video games in your dirty diaper without a care in the world, eh?" I just shrugged. "Not like you were here to change me anyway. Besides, it was fun." She smiled and shook her head. "I guess boys will be boys." She took my hand and we walked to our bedroom. “I did actually get tonight’s chores done first.” “You did? Good boy! Thanks for taking care of that.” She reached up and patted me on the head before taking off her work clothes, scattered with stray fur from her job at a pet boarding facility, and discarded them in the hamper. Elated by her praise, I began prepping the bed for my change. I laid a change pad out and set a fresh diaper, wipes, barrier cream beside it. “Hold on a sec.” I heard her say from behind me. I turned to face her and she grabbed the hem of my shirt and began to pull it off of me. I raised my arms to help her remove it. With both of us in just our underwear the difference between us was stark. Her delicate, stylish bra and panties complemented her womanly, hourglass figure very well. In contrast the thick, disposable garment wrapped around my hips, heavily used as if I had no control of my bodily functions, juxtaposed my tall, muscular frame. “You can wait just a few more minutes, right?” She asked as she pulled me into an embrace, placing one arm around my lower back as the other hand groped my squishy padding. I held her in a similar fashion as we both leaned in for a kiss. Our bodies pressed up against each other as we made out, punctuated by the soft sounds of lips mingling and my diaper crinkling. After a few minutes she finally pulled back. “Thanks, I needed that. Maybe tonight we can do a bit more.” She said, winking at me as she traced a finger along my now hardened manhood within my diaper. “Yes, please.” I said dreamily. “Anyway, let’s get you cleaned up.” She gently pressed her hand against my chest, directing me to get into position. I sat back onto the pad and laid down fully as she walked around in front of me. She reached out and gave the front of my diaper a few squeezes, maintaining my erection. Another little way she liked to exert some control over me. “My gosh, you pooped and you’re this soggy?! Your parents really wasted their time trying to potty train you!” She laughed a bit as she teased me. I tried to keep cool, but that remark hit a few buttons. “I was potty trained until someone came along…” She shook her heard as she peeled back the tapes on the left side of the diaper, waiting until after the loud ripping sounds to reply. “No, you were never truly potty trained, because you’ve always wanted to live like this. This is how you’re meant to be.” Even though she was just teasing, she was absolutely right about this being what I wanted. I stared up at the ceiling while pondering her words. As I heard my right tapes being pulled away, I was truly grateful that I was with someone who not only tolerated but embraced this side of me that so few would. Suddenly, her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Hello? Ground control to diaper butt! Don’t forget I need you to do something besides lie there like a board.” She held my ankles in her hand. As it turns out, lifting a grown man’s legs up high while still having a free hand for wiping was not a solo effort. “Sorry. Go ahead.” I said, blushing. She then hoisted my ankles up with help from my thigh muscles, raising my still covered rear off the mat. With her free hand she reached between my legs and took hold of the front waistband of my diaper. She pulled it open, fully exposing me and the natural disaster I’d wrought. The smell increased a bit, but we were both pretty used to it by now. “This might take a while…” She said as she looked over the job ahead of her. “Hope your legs don’t fall asleep!” She then took the first wipe to my groin, the fresh scent of the washcloth slightly suppressing the smell of messy diaper. I gasped at the initial jolt of the cold wipe. After just a moment the feeling became refreshing after spending so long wrapped in the warm, humid environment of my diaper. The cool wipes also caused my penis to soften up again. “How was your day? Besides being long.” I asked as she began cleaning off my prince parts. “The critters were pretty easy to handle today since a few more went home recently. Oh, and Sebastian’s back! His family had a wedding out of town to go to.” She threw another used wipe into the old diaper, then grabbed a fresh one and began wiping my butt. “Sebastian…” I jogged my memory as I felt the first of many wipes being slid across my cheeks. “He’s the old grey cat, right?” I looked her in the eye when either of us were speaking, but otherwise enjoyed the lovely view of her cleavage as she went about her caregiving task. In doing so I found myself becoming aroused again. “That’s right! He’s very sweet. One of my favorite regulars.” She said, switching wipes again and giving my hard-on a playful little flick. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about buying a table in the artists’ alley at one of the cons here in town. Do you think many people would buy from me?” “They will if they have good taste. Your art’s gotten even better this year and more people online are starting to notice. I say go for it!” I felt a cold wipe being ran through my crack. She smiled at my endorsement of the idea. “I think I will then!” Shortly after that she had gotten my hiney clean and let my legs back down. She rolled the old diaper and used wipes into a ball, taping it shut and setting it on the side of the mat. “And maybe we could put together a cute costume for you to wear.” She took the clean diaper and unfolded it. “Well, maybe…” I blushed at the idea of wearing something attention-getting in a crowded venue. We lifted my legs again and she slid the fresh diaper under my butt. With her free hand she opened the tub of barrier cream and began spreading a layer of it over my diaper area, adding another fresh fragrance into the air. Suddenly I had an idea. “How about we order out for dinner tonight? I think we could both use a night off from cooking. Your pick.” “Sounds good to me! I could go for Italian.” She finished applying the paste and lowered me onto the crinkly garment. Taking a wipe to clean her hands before pulling the front of the padding up between my legs and over my pelvis. Then she taped me up nice and snug. “All done!” She announced as she patted my clean diaper. “Thanks.” I said. She took my hand and helped me off the bed, giving me a little smooch when I was back on my feet. I started heading towards the door when I heard her voice from behind me. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I turned just in time to catch the old, balled up diaper that she tossed at me. “Don’t forget to throw out your dirty diaper! You know, the one I just changed you out of? Since you wear diapers.” She put a little extra emphasis on the final three words. “Yeah, yeah, I knew what you meant but thanks for the clarification.” I said dryly as I dropped the squishy bundle into the pail. We then headed to the bathroom together to wash our hands, eager to spend the rest of the evening relaxing together.

Chapter 1: The Show That Changed Everything Terry had always humored Genevieve’s curiosity. So when she found a flyer for an adults-only hypnosis show and asked if they could go, he agreed with a shrug. “Sure, babe. Could be fun.” He didn’t expect what followed to flip their entire world. The theatre was dim, cozy, filled with couples and clusters of friends sipping wine. There was a buzz in the air—like everyone knew they were about to see something forbidden. The stage was set simply: one couch, one chair, and a single overhead spotlight. When the hypnotist walked out, a tall, silver-haired man with eyes like polished stone, the crowd hushed. “Tonight,” he said, his voice rich and slow, “we play with the mind. But more than that—we play with who you think you are.” Volunteers were called. At first, it was silly—people clucking, dancing, barking. But then it shifted. Terry and Genevieve watched as the hypnotist selected a tall, shy man near the back. He looked out of place—gangly, nervous, like he hadn’t meant to volunteer but got pressured by friends. The hypnotist guided him gently on stage and spoke in low tones. The man’s eyes fluttered. “Drop for me,” the hypnotist said. “That’s it. Let go.” Within moments, the tall man was kneeling. “You feel small now,” the hypnotist whispered into the mic, “so small you can’t think unless Daddy tells you what to think. You want to feel useful to Daddy. Don’t you?” The crowd murmured, caught between shock and arousal. The man nodded. “Good boy. Now crawl to your waiting Daddy. Show the room how eager you are.” From the edge of the stage, another man stepped out of the shadows—broad-shouldered, in a tailored vest, waiting patiently with a smirk. He radiated confidence, his eyes fixed on the hypnotized boy with hunger and control. As the submissive crawled to him, Daddy’s expression deepened into something almost reverent—he was watching someone surrender utterly for him, and he relished every second. “Present your mouth,” the hypnotist commanded. The boy moved between Daddy’s legs, hands settling gently on his thighs, eyes wide and adoring. He leaned forward, lips parting, and began to suck with slow, reverent eagerness. It wasn’t clumsy—it was worshipful. Daddy’s arousal was obvious—not just physical, but psychological. He exhaled slowly, his chest rising as he leaned back slightly, letting his hand rest possessively in the boy’s hair. His smile was content, yet hungry. Each motion of the boy’s lips and tongue coaxed out more than just sensation—it fed his dominance. He watched the boy with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight: the flushed cheeks, the glistening lips, the soft gagging sounds that only made it sweeter. The pleasure wasn’t just from the act—it was from the power. The absolute control. The boy’s eagerness was intoxicating. “You see him?” the hypnotist purred to the audience. “That’s devotion. That’s a good little cocksucker giving Daddy everything he has.” The submissive moaned around him, trembling, hips subtly grinding against the floor. He was in deep—obedience and humiliation turning into raw pleasure. He never once broke contact. Daddy stroked his cheek with pride. “Look how much he needs this,” the hypnotist continued. “And look how much Daddy enjoys being worshipped.” Daddy’s other hand gripped the armrest, knuckles white, pleasure mounting as the boy increased his pace—sloppier now, more desperate. His legs tensed, hips lifting subtly into the boy’s face. His breathing deepened, each moan a confirmation of just how close he was. Then came the moment: a slow intake of breath, a growl of satisfaction, and the boy burying deep, holding himself still as if offering himself completely. Daddy’s eyes fluttered shut. He held the boy close for a moment, savoring the aftermath, fingers gently stroking through his hair. It wasn’t just release—it was fulfillment. Power and pleasure, perfectly intertwined. The boy’s body shook with his own climax, silent and overwhelmed, his cheeks still wet. He didn’t stop until Daddy exhaled and leaned back with a whisper of approval. When the hypnotist clapped his hands, the trance lifted. The boy blinked up, dazed, resting against Daddy’s leg like he’d just woken from the most vivid dream. The room erupted in applause. Terry blinked. “Holy shit,” he whispered. Genevieve didn’t answer. Her hand had drifted to Terry’s thigh, fingers squeezing slightly. That night, as they walked home, she was quiet. But her eyes sparkled. “Did that turn you on?” she finally asked. Terry hesitated. “I mean... it was intense. Hot, yeah. But more weird than anything.” Genevieve grinned. “I think I’d like to try learning it.” He laughed. “To get me to bark like a dog?” “No,” she said softly, voice husky. “To make you beg like him.” Terry didn’t sleep much that night. Neither did Genevieve. But for very different reasons. That was the night everything began. Let me know if you want more!?!?!?

Hey all! I'm back with a brand new story! This one comes to us in part thanks to the help of @princessdiapergirl who helped me bring this kinky tale to life. Enjoy! /////////////////////////// Heather walked up the neat garden path, leading to her friend's house. It was surprisingly well kept, with pots of flowers of all different kinds flourishing in the sun. Why was she here? Well, to prove that her friend was wrong and that there's no such thing as magic or witches! Honestly, it was just silly that a grown woman should go around declaring herself to be a witch! But Skye just kept on insisting that she could prove it. Heather thought it to be a stupid piece of make-believe, but only mildly entertained it, or brushed it off, because apart from that, Skye was a nice woman, and a good friend--perhaps someday more than just a good friend... But she couldn't let herself entertain such ideas. Heather didn't want to risk ruining her friendship over feelings that might not be reciprocated. The door opened to reveal a tall, blonde woman who looked exactly like you'd expect a witch to dress. A silky black blouse fell to a flowing skirt to match. Silver earrings in the shapes of spiders dangled on either side of her head, and her wrists were both adorned with a variety of beads and charms. "Heather! Come in, come in!" Heather's own aesthetic was altogether the opposite of Skye's. There was lots of pink, mostly everything she wore was some shade of it. Right now, she wore a pink crop top, somewhat gaudily emblazoned with a designer logo across the front, accompanied by a similarly pink skirt, though one far shorter than Skye's. An unfortunate gust of wind would certainly be the last thing she wanted, given its length. She smiled, entering Skye's home and almost tripping over a potted plant along the way on account of her high heels, which she wore despite her inability to walk in them very well. "So," Skye began, leading Heather through her home, "Are you ready to be freed from your skepticism today? I've got quite the *enchanting* day planned for us." "I'll believe it when I see it." She snorted, her haughty nature shining through for a moment. "What sorts of things are you gonna do then? Take a rabbit out of a hat or something?" Skye chuckled warmly, "Nothing so mundane. When I'm done with you today, you will never doubt the existence of magic again. If I fail, I promise you'll never hear another witchy word from me about the supernatural. Deal?" "Deal." She smirked, extending her hand to shake. Each finger was tipped with a ghastly-looking pink nail, far too long to be practical. Just her strange aesthetics. Skye led Heather into a bedroom that had been converted into... Something else. The center of the dimly-lit room was an open space with only a yoga mat covering the hard wood floor. The few pieces of furniture in the room--a bookshelf, a small table, and a mirror that was covered up by a sheet--were against opposite walls. The table was also covered in candles, jars, and just a lot of weird nonsense that Heather didn't understand. "Here we are!" Skye said, "This is, quite literally, where the magic happens." "The magic of your hippy yoga?" She smirked, gazing around the room. "Yoga can be a powerful tool for unlocking the potential of both the body and mind... But no." Skye responded, "The first thing we need to do is open your spirit to the magical forces of the universe." Heather raised an eyebrow "Right, and how do we do such a thing?" "It's quite simple, actually." Skye said before reaching out and taking both of Heather's hands in hers. Heather despised how her face heated up just a little at the contact. "R-right-.." She tried to sound skeptical, but also hated how her voice wavered slightly. Skye looked deep into Heather's eyes, "I am asking you, Heather, to open your spirit to my magic. Will you invite me in? A simple 'yes' is all that I need." Heather wanted to look away, but at the same time she didn't--she wanted to be drawn even deeper into those perfect, green eyes. "... Fine. U-uh- I mean.. yes." The supposed witch released Heather's hand, a wide smile beaming across her face, "Perfect! Now lay down on the yoga mat." she said, turning to her table and fiddling with the various implements there. She huffed, walking to the mat in the middle of the room. "You sure you're not tricking me?" "No trickery whatsoever." Skye said, not turning from her business at the table, "I'm going to cast a spell on you that will forever change your perspective." Skye turned and came over to her friend on the floor with a stick of some kind in one hand and a jar in the other. "Now this might tickle a little. I need to draw my magical sigils on your feet, hands, and forehead." "There- there's no way I'd let you do that!" She squeaked, giving Skye her signature glare. "Relax, I'm not using a permanent marker or anything. It's just a powder mixture. Well, to *you* it's just powder. To me these are powerful magical reagents. But you don't *believe* in magic, right?" Skye taunted with a wink. "As long as it doesn't leave a mark.." She grumbled, conceding and allowing Skye to use the powder. "I promise it will not." Skye said, dabbing the stick into the jar of powder before rubbing it on the tops of Heather's feet in nigh-imperceptible patterns. The witch's friend writhed a little, trying not to move too much. Skye moved on to Heather's hands, which were not nearly as ticklish as the feet. When it came time for Heather's forehead to receive the same treatment, she was able to get a whiff of whatever concoction Skye was putting on her body. It didn't smell bad, in fact it smelled kinda sweet. Kinda like... Baby powder? Heather wasn't exactly sure, as she hadn't smelt that since she was a baby, for obvious reasons. She couldn't help but think that was what it was, but then again what did she know about magic? "And there we... Go!" Skye said, abruptly standing up. "By silver moon and golden sun, let now my will on earth be done!" At first, Heather felt nothing. "See, I told you it didn't-" But before she could finish, she felt a sort of tingle in her limbs, spreading throughout her body. She felt like she was shrinking? What? Looking down, she saw just that, her body shrinking and almost seeming to close in on itself. It felt ticklish more than anything, but upon trying to laugh she found she couldn't, in fact she couldn't speak at all. With a poof of what surely must've been baby powder, she fell to the floor. ..it didn't hurt as she'd though it would, though. In fact, something seemed to cushion her fall. The way she fell to the ground left her lying face down, and since she couldn't seem to move at all, that meant she was incapable of seeing whatever it was. /////////////////////////// Did you know that I'm available for Story Commissions? If you'd like to see your story idea brought to life, you can find my Commission details here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1sKl8NUcpBs609wHqywGSDg-kJRxo219SKblZA5r1GEk/edit?usp=drivesdk

“Mommy….” Billy muttered, holding his arms around his midsection and hunching over. “What’s wrong baby? Do you still have an ouchie tummy?” His mommy, Shiela, asked with concern. “You still haven’t made poopy yet have you? Let mommy check.” Billy didn’t resist as his Mommy approached him where he laid on the floor in his playpen and cupped his diapered bottom. He was clearly wet but that’s was all - just like he had been for almost a week. She was really starting to worry; if she couldn’t get a poop out of him tonight he was going to have to go to the doctor. And they both knew how uncomfortable it was to bring an adult baby to the doctor. At this point everybody in Billy’s life knew about his age play, it was hard to miss when he was diapered 24/7 and acted like a toddler no matter where he was, but it was still uncomfortable trying to explain their dynamic to medical professionals. So far she had tried every natural remedy from prune juice to castor oil with no luck. This morning she put laxatives in his bottle with the hope it would be enough to get his bowels moving - but it looked like it was time for the next step - a suppository. If this didn’t work it was time for a trip to urgent care before he risked a bowel obstruction. It pained her just to look at how distended Billy’s stomach was from almost a week’s worth of poop stuck in his intestines. “Okay honey why don’t we try your pushy exercises one more time before we get your special bum bum medicine, okay?” Billy groaned but didn’t put up a fight - yet another sign that he really wasn’t feeling well. He was normally boisterous and even a bit of a brat - but he had moved past tantrums yesterday and was just tired and weepy now. Shiela let herself into his playpen and kneeled down next to her boy where he lay in his wet diaper and puppy dog shirt. She slowly moved him from his side onto his back and massaged his tummy in small gentle circles. “Shhh sweetie that’s it… that’s a good baby…. Now while mommy rubs your tummy can you try to push?” Billy’s face scrunched up even more as he tried to push with his tummy muscles but he didn’t last long before he let out his breath and a tear ran down his face. “Hurts mommy…” he whined and Shiela gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I know baby, I know your tummy and your bum hurt. Let’s try one more time, okay? Can you do that for mommy? Try to push the poopies out on the count of 3… 2… 1!” Billy’s face turned bright red as he strained and pushed. “Mmmph…. Mmmmm… mommy…. Poopy…” “That’s it baby, that’s it! Push that poopy out! Come on honey you can do it! Push, push, push!” Just when Shiela thought he was going to make some progress, he collapsed back against the floor and started to cry. “Mommy owie! Poopy owie!! No push!” He wailed as tears trailed down his cheeks. “Okay sweetie okay… you’re all done… no more pushing right now. Let’s get to your nursery so mommy can change you and we’ll try your bum bum medicine, okay?” Billy gave a pitiful little nod and sniffled as his mommy helped him up. He was a bit too big to be carried, even with their significant size difference that often made him feel even more babyish as his mommy towered over him, but mommy held his hand as she walked him to his nursery. Billy slowly waddled beside her looking more bow-legged than a cowboy. It almost looked like he already had a load in his diaper with how funny he was walking. When they got to his nursery she helped him up onto the changing table and handed him his teddy bear which he clutched to his chest as he continued to whimper in discomfort. Shiela got his supplies out including the package of suppositories and gave a small sigh while setting them up. She knew Billy didn’t like when she put medicine up his bum but at this point it was either that or the hospital and she knew he’d rather try everything they could to avoid a doctor. Shiela caressed his head and wiped a tear away before she got to work untaping his wet diaper. As she lowered the front of the padding she almost had to do a double take when she saw something dark between his legs - it was a piece of poop. What was even more surprising was that it seemed to still be partially inside of his rectum. “Oh my goodness baby… you have a poopy trying to get out!” That was enough to make Billy giggle for a moment even through his tears and discomfort. “Well this is a predicament. I don’t think I can’t put your medicine in your bum with this poopy sticking out. Let me see if I can help you move things along, okay honey?” Without waiting for an answer, Shiela reached under the changing table and grabbed some latex gloves. She pulled them on each hand with a snap and then as an afterthought she pulled the strap over Billy’s chest that helps hold him in place. As an afterthought she lifted up his bum just enough to slide out his wet diaper and to put another fresh diaper underneath him - this one a size bigger than his usual so there would be more room in the back in case a week’s worth of poop did end up back there. “Okay honey this might make your bum feel funny, but just keep pushing, okay? Mommy is going to try to help your poopy come out.” Billy nodded and held onto his teddy, seeming a bit apprehensive but desperate for relief from his aching bowels. He watched as his mommy took her blue-gloved-hands and reached down to his bottom before he suddenly felt a sharp pain. “Ouch mama!” he cried and Shiela had a pang of guilt, but she knew this was inevitable. The piece of poop sticking out of his rectum was wide and stiff - holding his tender hole open so far it was straining. “I know buddy mommy’s sorry but she has to do this, okay? Now come on and give me a big push! Come on honey push push push push….” Billy grunted and groaned, pushing as hard as he could as mommy used her gloved hands to grab the tip of the log and gently turn it from side to side, trying to loosen it up so it could slide out. Each time Billy ran out of stamina Shiela would pause for him to breathe and recollect himself before they tried again. It was on the fifth try, just as they were both losing hope, that with a loud grunt Billy pushed hard enough that the log of poop slowly started to come out further into Shiela’s hand. “You’re doing buddy! You’re doing it! Come on honey keep pushing!” She cheered with a genuine smile on her face as her red-faced baby continued to grunt and push the firm log out. She used her hand to pull at the same time and their team work paid off a minute and a half later when the monstrous turd finally began to taper and slid out comfortably onto the open diaper. “You did it honey! What a good baby! You pushed that big poopy out almost all by yourself!” Shiela exclaimed with genuine pride as Billy smiled a little, his cheeks still flushed. He lay there for a moment panting heavily from exertion and relief, his open diaper underneath him with his trophy-winning poop stretched across it. Just as they both started to recover, Billy’s stomach let out an audible grumble and he clutched at his distended tummy. “Mommy…. Poo poo….” He just barely had time to get these few words out before his face turned into a grimace and soft poop began to pour out of his bumhole and into his open diaper. Mommy quickly sprang into action and closed up his diaper, holding it down over his tummy and muffling the litany of rude sounds coming from his bottom as his diaper filled up with a week’s worth of mess. “Does that feel better honey?” Mommy asked with a chuckle as Billy started to get a bit of a dopey grin on his face from the relief. Just as Shiela thought he was done, he pulled his knees up to his chest and let out horrific flatulence before dumping another load of soft poop into his oversized diaper. Instead of waiting for him to finish she decided to just tape the diaper up and let him keep working everything out of his system for as long as he needed. During the next break she helped him off of the changing table where he barely stayed standing for five seconds before he went down into a squat and pushed again. His disposable diaper was hanging comically down between his legs, almost down to his knees, and swinging with the weight of the stinky load he was still depositing into it. “I guess that was all you needed buddy… we just had to pop the cork and then everything came spilling out huh?” Billy gave a strangled “mhmm” as he stood up and waddled over to the carpet in the middle of the room. Before his mommy could stop him, Billy sat down with a sigh - right onto his stinky bottom. “I think that’s going to be the biggest poopy diaper I’ve ever changed in my life!” Shiela said and sat in the rocking chair next to the carpet to keep an eye on him in case he had more to evacuate from his bowels. Billy smiled and tipped backwards until he was laying on his back, the load in his diaper creeping up closer to his lower back the longer he laid there and wiggled his butt around.

Hey all - close followers of @34qucker's might have noticed that he did a drawing of Jackie from Baby's Unexpected Trip (and other stories I've written a few months ago. Since then, the two of us have been working together on this piece, and we've had a lot of fun! He's done a full companion series to this story - the first image is embedded below, and the rest are over on his SubscribeStar, which I highly recommend! Hope people enjoy this as much as we did! _________ “Look who’s here, princess?” Mama asked, sliding a cake with a lone flickering candle onto the tray of Jackie’s highchair. There was really only a small handful of people it was likely to be, and given that her biological parents and the majority of the other regressed adults she was “friends” with had been in attendance at her birthday party the weekend before, it was no surprise to see Mama’s boyfriend, Dada, enter the kitchen. “Just in time to sing,” Mama continued, more to Dada than her. Though Mama’s tone suggested a coincidence, Jackie had little doubt that his recent arrival explained the 15 minutes or so she’d just spent stuck snugly strapped into her highchair between the end of her dinner and her impending dessert. Dada surveyed the scene briefly, seeming to slightly chuckle at the sight Jackie presented as he moved to join Mama at the kitchen table in front of Jackie’s chair. “Happy birthday to you!” they began slowly, with Mama in particular summoning an enthusiasm that could only be achieved with the tinge of mockery that was unmistakably present. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Baby Jackie! Happy birthday to you!” “Yay!” Mama exclaimed, clapping patronizingly as she stood up once again and crossed back to Jackie’s highchair. She placed a would-be supporting hand on Jackie’s back, pointing towards the cake with her other hand. “Do you think you can blow out the candle, baby Jackie? You’re the birthday girl, so you get to!” Mama, of course, knew she could, having just seen her do so at her birthday party. In fact, much of this scene mirrored what had happened the other day, right down to the polka-dotted birthday hat whose elastic had been just slightly pinching into her chin since she’d been woken from her nap this afternoon and the bib around her neck proudly declaring “Still 1” just in case anyone had any doubts that this year bore no greater prospects for Jackie being allowed to resume her adult life than any of last eight had. With no desire to draw things out, Jackie leaned forward, quickly exhaling to extinguish the flame in front of her. “Good job, sweetie!” Mama praised, with Dada joining her in applause even an actual toddler would realize well exceeded the feat it was rewarding. “I’ll bring this right back, birthday girl!” she continued, snatching the cake off the tray and moving towards the counter behind Jackie’s perch. “I just need to get things ready for everyone to have their cake!” Jackie was far more relieved than annoyed at that news. The cake was not that much smaller than the one she’d shared with her fellow big babies the other day, and there had been 7 of them that day. With nothing else to look at, Jackie was left sort of awkwardly looking at Dada as he remained looking at her. Though he’d been on the scene dating Mama for a few years now, Jackie really didn’t know much about him. If Mama needed a babysitter for Jackie, it was usually to allow her to do something with Dada, so fortunately she never left Jackie alone in his care. Beyond that, Jackie had the impression that their relationship was largely physical, as, at least while Jackie was not tucked away in her crib (which was often conveniently soon after he arrived, regardless of whether that made for an early bedtime or an unscheduled extra nap), she was almost more likely to hear the sounds of Mama and Dada getting a head start on adult activities as she was to hear them having a conversation that would give her any insight into his personality. Even if she wasn’t sent to bed, Jackie’s presence barely seemed to deter them, but she suspected that things only got more physical rather than more conversational once they were alone. When Jackie was around, Mama clearly drove all interactions between the three of them, so neither Jackie nor Dada really knew what to do in brief moments like these where they were on their own. Jackie didn’t really mind the respite, of course, especially where she figured to be the center of attention again in a couple of moments when she’d be served her cake. Cake was always a real double edged sword for her. Between her birthday, the birthday parties she went to for her friends, and birthday celebrations for Mama, Dada, or her real parents, she probably got a chance to have cake somewhere around 10 times a year. Considering she spent literally every other day of the year desperately wishing for anything other than the baby food her diet otherwise consisted of, the cake truly was a treat. On the other hand, it was undoubtedly a tool used by Mama and the other grown ups to serve up maximum humiliation. There were some variations on a theme, but she could be certain she’d never get silverware, and in most cases, even her hands would be stuck under the tray of a highchair like they were right now. And while clearly better than her normal diet, the cakes were always generous-to-a-fault with their frosting. The result was always a mess so great it made even some of the messiest faces Mama could generate with deliberately errant spoonfuls of baby food look positively dainty compared to the slovenly effect the frosting produced. And, of course, that mess was usually made in front of an attentive crowd of some sort that was more than willing to comment. Even after the mess was over, the impact of the cake was often long-lasting. Jackie’s body wasn’t used to the sugar, so she often had a stomach ache, especially since the addition of the large dessert was never offset by being fed any less during any of her regular meals. That specter loomed especially large today, as Jackie was already dealing with a fullness in her lower abdomen that was only going to lead to one outcome. One way of looking at her day-to-day existence was as a game of trying to get her body and whatever Mama’s agenda was to sync up so that she spent as little time in dirty diapers as possible, while ideally also minimizing how much of that time was in front of others or stuck in situations where she needed to put a lot of weight on her loaded backside. That wasn’t a game she could really win, of course, but so far today she’d been pretty successful at minimizing her losses. She’d had a very minor mess this morning (a concept the version of herself that had left college would have gagged at the thought of), and Mama had even changed her unusually quickly afterwards. She’d idly thought earlier this afternoon that the universe’s birthday present to her was going to be a mostly painless day on that front, and even right up until Dada had walked in she’d thought that if she could hold off until she was out of her highchair she’d pretty much guarantee that she’d have nothing worse than a few gratuitous seat pats from Mama to ostensibly confirm the state of her diaper or the gross but short lived smash as she was set down to be changed before a bath or bedtime just a few minutes after the end of the dinner ordeal. With Dada here now, the odds she’d be able to do it in relative privacy looked a lot worse, and Jackie was actively reckoning with whether his presence would cause enough deviation in the routine that she’d need to just suck it up and do the deed while she was still seated to make sure that she wasn’t whisked off to bed so quickly that she didn’t have time to do so after getting down but before being changed. Still, as long as she avoided that, the time element of the problem was clearly working in her favor, and she’d have to take that as a relative win. “Alright,” Mama playfully announced, jolting Jackie out of the brief trance she’d been in, “yours will be in there, mister.” Dada smiled broadly, stood up, and walked past Jackie’s highchair. She heard him and Mama exchange a kiss, and then he seemed to continue out of the room, which presumably meant Mama had sent him into the living room. That seemed quite odd, since Jackie assumed they’d have eaten at the table, especially given that they’d surely want to comment on the greedy-looking disgrace Jackie was about to make of herself. She supposed she never actually saw Mama eat all that much, since she could quite conveniently eat lunch and dinner during Jackie’s nap and after her bedtime, meaning it was possible that that was just where Mama was in the habit of eating, but even so, Jackie suddenly sensed something was amiss. And woe betide any member of her social circle when something was amiss. The tray pressing tightly against her arms and stomach prevented Jackie from turning around to see what might be going on, but even before Jackie fully had time to register her wish for a little more mobility, Mama had reached her tray with the cake. Jackie looked down at it, confused to see that it was still intact, looking exactly as it had when it left her tray but for the candle having been removed. It wasn’t completely unprecedented to have a different cake than the “grown-ups.” Just this weekend, her birthday party had been Strawberry Shortcake themed. For the baby guests, this meant they all wore cutesy, more-or-less matching dresses while Jackie wore what she could only assume was a Strawberry Shortcake Halloween costume, then ate thick slices of a pink-frosted but otherwise plain yellow cake. For their part, the caregivers dressed completely normally, but joined in on the theme by eating much more reasonable portions of a far better-looking strawberry shortcake. Still, given the comments Mama had made, the size of the cake now in front of her, and the couple of minutes it had taken Mama, Jackie had assumed there would be some portioning that had taken place. Confused, she glanced over at Mama. Instantly, her confusion doubled. She’d felt Mama moving in close, but at first her attention had focused on the cake in front of her. Now, she realized that perhaps the bigger surprise was that Mama was standing next to her completely in the nude, for some reason holding an intricately laced thong - clearly hers - in the hand that hadn’t proffered the cake. Jackie literally drank from Mama’s breasts daily, and also fairly frequently saw her in either a sports bra or bikinis, plus of course was in various states of undress in front of Mama herself multiple times a day, but somehow seeing her fully exposed breasts like this felt incredibly taboo. The tray in front of her slightly obstructed Jackie’s view of Mama’s lower half, but she could see just the very top of her pubic hair. Between that and the panties she was casually flaunting on her finger, Mama didn’t even need to say a word to make Jackie feel very self-conscious about her own hairless crotch as she slightly squished on the swollen padding below her with each shift in her chair. “We’re gonna have some grown-up cake in the other room,” Mama said, seemingly answering Jackie’s look of confusion. Jackie hadn’t heard that euphemism before, but the meaning was clear as day in this context. “But that’s nothing little birthday girls need to worry about. You’ve got all this yummy cake to eat! If you don’t finish before we do, I’ll just have to assume you’re all tuckered out from all this birthday fun and put you straight to bed and deal with the mess you’re about to make in the morning!” Jackie just slightly whimpered at that news. There was no way she could finish the entire cake in front of her, was there? And yet, she’d yet to see Mama fail to follow through on a threat like that in all the years she’d been under her care. Of course, the consequence of failure wasn’t exactly clear, either. Jackie’s mind had immediately jumped to the messy diaper she’d been scheming about timing optimally, but surely Mama couldn’t know about that, could she? It seemed more likely that she meant she would send her to bed with a frosting covered face. That had certainly never happened before, but Mama was creative and it did sound pretty awful. Perhaps she could sort of wipe some excess off on her pillowcase, but with her hands immobilized by her nightly swaddling, she would only be moving the frosting from her face to where she’d be putting her head down. Either way, it seemed like a recipe for waking up with a sticky, crusty disaster all over her face and hair. “Oh, and Baby,” Mama said, interrupting Jackie before her train of thought got too far out of the station, “I don’t know if you’re too little to tell, but I thought Dada looked very excited for his cake. So I would dig in if I were you.” Mama was condescending, but she was right. The best way to avoid finding out what an overnight frosting facial would do to her was to somehow slog her way through this assignment, and she would surely need all the time she could get. She took a deep breath, straightening herself against the highchair’s back almost like she was about to go underwater in a pool, then plunged face first into the sugary abyss, pulling up on the tray with her arms and hands to help get enough leverage to bend down to the cake despite the tray itself restricting her ability to lean forwards very far. Even with her face deep in the cake, Jackie couldn’t help hearing Mama chuckling with amusement before she left Jackie to it. The first mouthful, as she’d learned to expect over the years, was almost exclusively frosting, with the slightly grainy thickness of that layer meaning that she only bit the very edge of the actual cake. The sweetness was nice, but there was barely even time to register that. “You like it?” Jackie heard Mama ask teasingly as she sat up to try to swallow the mouthful of stiff frosting. “I bet you want every last bit.” Jackie looked down at the cake in front of her. The frosting was a good inch or so thick, and she’d probably managed a four or five inch gash in it, but it was demoralizing to see how little damage she’d done. She knew Mama was talking to Dada, but she still had to repress the urge to say “no” given how perfectly it fit Mama’s rhetorical wager with Dada. Even just looking at the cake, Jackie could tell that there was quite a bit on her face - you could actually see a print where her nose had hit the frosting, and Jackie could feel just a little caked on her nostrils, though not enough to seriously impact her breathing. Her chin and cheeks also held a decent share of the frosting she’d managed to take off the cake in the first pass. Jackie was a little more reckless with her second dive, knowing any cake that was stuck to her face or sufficiently separate and crumbled from the main cake on the tray beneath her would likely count as eaten for the purposes of this exercise. She was deliberate in pushing her face further down, doing her best to think of the frosting she felt hitting her eyebrows as a win, and even slightly shaking her mouth around in the cake, though she hadn’t yet bitten off enough of the actual sponge to really be making crumbs to send flying. Jackie soon settled into a bit of a rhythm. She’d already gone completely numb to the cake’s taste, which at once deprived her of the chance to enjoy how much this wasn’t the nasty mush she normally ate but also kept her mind off of the fact that this was clearly too much of a good thing. She’d also become so messy that she’d crossed an important mental barrier. If she had a mirror, she was pretty sure she could find plenty of spots on her face that weren’t actually covered in cake, but the mess felt so thorough that mentally it no longer seemed like there was any way she could get meaningfully dirtier. In a strange way, that helped, because it meant there was really no incentive for Jackie to be as aggressive as possible with each dive into the increasingly disheveled cake. “Yes! Keep going!” Mama moaned breathily in the other room, and for just a moment Jackie wondered if she’d paused without noticing. Listening for another second though, the murmurs of pleasure she was letting out seemed to indicate she was just particularly enjoying whatever it was Dada was doing in the next room. If Jackie hadn’t paused before, now she definitely had. Worryingly, Mama’s moans were clearly intensifying, though so far Dada at least wasn’t giving off any audible clues that he was approaching his own climax. Mama’s phrasing had suggested they were both intending to finish, but it certainly wouldn’t be completely out of character for her to prioritize her own pleasure without much thought about other’s, especially if that would somehow add to Jackie’s misery. So it was hard for Jackie to trust that his silence really bought her any extra time. She needed to get going. Unfortunately for Jackie, each time she folded herself down for another bite or straightened back up to chew and swallow was adding intensity to her need to make another kind of mess, and the rapid addition of much more food for her digestive system to process wasn’t helping matters at all. All this shifting back and forth on the highchair’s hard seat was sure to produce an extra gross diaper extra quickly if she messed herself now, but Jackie could tell that the carefully considered movements she was making in order to avoid accentuating her cramps were beginning to slow her down even more than the distracting noises behind her were. There was really only one thing to do now. As much as she’d hoped to be able to wait until she was at least done eating, realistically she was probably only adding a few minutes at most before she got changed, and while that would be very unpleasant it would beat spending the whole night covered in frosting. And so, reluctantly, the next time she sat up, she pushed. Regrettably, Jackie had more than enough experience with messing in tight seats like this to know that she’d encounter some resistance, and sure enough, she had to fight through some reverse pressure, forcing her soft log to immediately turn into an oozy pile that started to uniformly fill in space - mostly being forced up into the higher reaches of her butt crack but also going as far down as it could before the pressure of the chair created a barrier that couldn’t be passed. “Oh god,” Mama said from the other room. “It’s so big.” Though it was nowhere near an all-timer, it was true that Jackie could immediately tell this was not the minor mess she’d had this morning, and it packed a much more pungent punch than the previous parcel had. Still, it took her a few seconds to realize that Mama wasn’t talking about anything going on in her diaper, which they likely had no idea about just yet, and instead must have been referring to Dada’s member. If Jackie had been stuck in her highchair without the dual problem of her cake and her diaper to distract her, she would probably have begun to suspect that Mama, who’d certainly seen enough of Dada not to be surprised by his size, was making these comments to make sure Jackie knew what she was missing, and depending on how sexually frustrated she was or wasn’t feeling that day, she might have even found it slightly funny how cliche some of these supposedly spontaneous exclamations were. Another particularly loud moan from the other room reminded Jackie that there was no time to waste wallowing. Apparently, Jackie realized, the physical act of messing herself had brought her chewing to an unconscious stop, but she quickly resumed, swallowing as soon as she could. Looking at the cake in front of her, she couldn’t help but worry she was in trouble. The third of the cake nearest to her was pretty well destroyed, and she was starting to at least disturb the middle portion, but an entire crescent-shaped back portion still had the top layer of frosting sitting as smoothly as it had been when it was delivered, not to mention the three to four inches of untouched sponge underneath. Saying she was halfway through might be generous. Was it too pessimistic to think Mama and Dada sounded further along than that? With no alternative but to hope that some combination of a lack of firsthand experience and the desperation of her situation were making her more worried than she needed to be, Jackie forced herself to work on the only thing she could control by once again burying herself in the cake below her. Perhaps ironically, she realized that having her face unceremoniously stuffed in the oversized treat at least had the benefit of making it so she could no longer smell herself. Less pleasantly, shifting her weight off the directly upright point at which she’d just messed herself made it immediately clear that there was a little more still up there that would need to come out in a position like this. She really didn’t have the time, but the last thing she wanted to do was miss her chance now and then need to mess again as soon as she was tucked in for the night, potentially leaving her trying to sleep with a messy face and a messy diaper, so, keeping her face pressed deep in the cake, she pushed again, forcing the poop that was only just beginning to cool further from its original source and replacing it with a smaller mass of even fresher waste. Fortunately, Jackie could pretty quickly tell that she probably was done now, and so she attempted to gather just a little bit more into her mouth, then straightened up once more to chew and swallow, doing her best to ignore how her movement squeezed the mess just a bit further up her backside as she straightened out as if her crack was some sort of tube of toothpaste. Jackie could hear the volume of Dada’s deeper grunts growing rapidly, which was unsettling, since he’d been relatively quiet for much of the time they’d been going at it. “Faster,” Mama encouraged, and though this time it was quite clearly not directed at her, the encouragement was the closest anyone was going to come to being the Matilda to her Bruce Bogtrotter. Desperately, Jackie bobbed her head down to the cake below as rapidly as her ability to chew the sticky treat would allow, doing her best to make as much of a mess as humanly possible as she did so. Despite her efforts, though, there was undeniably still plenty of cake left when Dada’s grunt went over the top into a loud exhale of pure bliss, and, just a second or two later, Mama’s steady stream of ever escalating “oh!”s switched to two breathy shouts of “yes” and then culminated in her own guttural release of ecstasy. Even without having ever done more than some handsy making out herself, Jackie knew plenty enough to know she’d just heard them finish. With at least a quarter of the cake still undisturbed (and nearly that much scattered across the tray and her face), Jackie had clearly failed to meet the letter of the law when it came to Mama’s assignment. Jackie felt doomed. Still, she knew from the all-too-rare occasions that Mama allowed her to experience some release via self-stimulation that there was a natural desire to bask in the afterglow in times like these. While Mama universally found ways to jerk Jackie out of that bliss far before she was ready, Jackie suspected she’d be more than happy to afford herself that luxury. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept plugging away, Jackie could finish up before Mama and Dada untangled themselves and Mama made her way over to check on her progress. “Jeez,” Mama panted. “That filled me up so much I’m afraid if I move too quickly it’ll all just come right back out and end up everywhere.” “Same,” Jackie thought, though this time it was even more obvious than before that any resemblance to her own predicament was purely coincidental. Mama had the luxury of waiting a minute and then hoping that some careful movements could mitigate her problem, which, of course, sounded like a pretty high-class problem from where Jackie sat. Not only could she not indulge in a wait-it-out approach, she knew she had to actually make the problem worse in order to have any shot at some degree of meaningful relief later. Ignoring her fullness as best she could, Jackie resumed the dive, shake, rise, and swallow pattern she’d been diligently pursuing for most of the last ten minutes. The cake had long since stopped tasting like a treat, or really even tasting, and was just the sticky, crumby, slightly drooly thing she had in front of her that she had to try to finish. Without the sounds of far more adult activities floating in from the next room, Jackie was assaulted with the sounds of the cake’s cardboard disk shifting around just slightly each time she went in for a bite or the vinyl of her bib swishing side to side against the base of the tray. The sounds were clear to her from inches away, but she could only hope that they weren’t really audible in the next room, or at least if they were they wouldn’t doom her to failure even if she finished before Mama returned. But stopping wasn’t an option, as that would guarantee her failure. Soon, her focus on the cake was interrupted by the sounds of ominous giggling in the other room. “Alllllright, birthday girl,” Mama called, seeming to exaggerate the alright to simulate the groan you might make getting up from somewhere comfortable, “let’s see how you did!” Jackie did her best to swallow what was in her mouth, looking down herself as if maybe by some miracle perhaps that last bite had somehow been much bigger than she’d known. There was no pleasant surprise. What was in front of her was really no more than maybe an eighth of the cake (or, at least, the undisturbed part of what was in front of her was about an eighth - probably at least that much was strewn across the tray, not to mention Jackie’s face and bib), but it had clearly not been finished. Any reasonable person would see that she’d made an absolutely massive effort on the enormous task, but Mama had a long history of holding Jackie to unreasonable standards. “Oh, sweetie,” Mama said, putting her hand on Jackie’s shoulder as she emerged from the back of the highchair. She’d apparently found and replaced her bra on the way over, but was otherwise still naked. Mama sort of chuckled a bit, but didn’t say anything else for a second, leaving Jackie to wonder what she might be focusing on. God knows she’d given her more than enough ammo. Jackie tried her best to keep her face neutral, knowing that returning the condescension with a glare might worsen her fate, though with so much frosting caked on her it may not have been that obvious whether she’d held her poker face or not. “You were supposed to finish your cake, princess,” she continued at last, “but I guess there was just too much birthday excitement and you got too tired. Oh well, we’ll get you right to bed!” There had been too much of something, but it wasn’t exactly excitement. But leave it to Mama to frame things in a way that made it seem like Jackie was the real reason for her own problems. Blame, though, was hardly the biggest issue, and any hope Jackie had that her Mama might somehow consider her monumental effort worthy of cleaning her face anyways was dashed. “Oh!” Mama said suddenly, dashing away for a second before returning with her phone. “Your Mommy was the one who sent you that cake and I promised her a picture!” She fiddled with the screen with her hand for a second, pulling up the camera app and setting it to selfie mode. “Say, ‘thank you!’” she said when she was ready, leaning in with a massive smile to pose with her beleaguered charge. “Fank you,” Jackie mimicked weakly, not even intending the slight lisp that normally came from trying to speak around the presence of a pacifier in her mouth. On some sort of weird autopilot trained into her probably as far back as her original first birthday party, Jackie found herself forcing out a little half smile for the camera, though the face she saw mirrored on the screen in front of her certainly betrayed that she was less than happy. “Perfect!” Mama said after snapping the picture, holding it aloft a few extra seconds to allow Jackie to see. Mama had perfectly positioned herself semi-behind Jackie in such a way that you couldn’t really see anything on her naked bottom half, though a half-second’s examination would be plenty to see that she wasn’t wearing anything down there. Jackie couldn’t believe Mama was really going to send that to Jackie’s real mother, Mama’s own employer, but then her regression seemed to have a way of making people comfortable breaking just about every social norm imaginable. “Baby Jackie says thank you for the cake,” Mama faux-muttered as she walked back over towards the counter, clearly narrating the text she was sending to Jackie’s mother for the sole purpose of Jackie knowing what was being said about her. “Almost finished it all by herself! Even had time to make me a present - how nice of her! LOL!” Jackie heard the sound of the phone being set on the counter, more-or-less confirming that the evidence of her miserable birthday had been shared. Her parents, of course, had been the ones who made her like this in the first place and would have known full well what she might end up looking like when they sent that cake, but the thought of them seeing her like this still made her cheeks burn, especially since Mama had given away the shameful state of her backside, which otherwise would have stayed undetectable to an uninformed viewer. “Let me just get this out of the way,” Mama said, swooping in to take the cake off the tray. Still immobilized by the straps and the tray itself, Jackie could do little but stare at the clean circle where the cake’s cardboard disk had been, its outline memorialized amid the carnage she had caused all around it. The blank void really served to drive home just how monumental a mess she really had made. “Alright,” Mama said when she returned again. “I don’t care how tired you are, we can’t put you to be like this, can we? I don’t want to have to wash your sheets tomorrow.” Mama put down a package of baby wipes and removed one, quickly starting to scrape through the thick coating of crumbs and frosting that was smeared all over Jackie’s face. Instinctively, Jackie closed her eyes, knowing that Mama would need to get around and even over them given her state, and tried to hold still through the rather rough wiping process. Her mind was racing - she really hadn’t expected to be cleaned up like this, especially after the way Mama had confirmed she had failed. Perhaps she had decided she just didn’t want to do the laundry, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time she’d made a lot more work for herself just to further Jackie’s misery, so it would be a little surprising if this was a sudden change of heart. Which meant… Jackie couldn’t escape the conclusion that her first instinct was right. That somehow Mama had been able to tell she was about to mess herself and had set not sleeping in a poopy diaper, on her birthday no less, as the stakes of her basically impossible challenge. Jackie shuddered at the thought, cruelly reminded of the nasty pile beneath her by the slight change in position. “I know, the wipes are cold,” Mama said, with an unconvincing veneer of sympathy. “We’ll be done soon.” The wipes were a bit cold, but that was hardly Jackie’s focus. The scent of the wipes so close to her nose was overpowering the smell right now, but Jackie knew her nursery would probably smell for days after spending her whole night like this, and there was every chance she’d wake up at least somewhat itchy, though hopefully being relatively still through the night could minimize the severity of the rash she felt sure would come. Jackie felt Mama starting to wipe a little in her hair, which seemed like a sign that her face was likely done. She opened her eyes, noting that while most of her view was dominated by the underside of Mama’s forearm, she at least no longer could see any pink frosting in her peripheral vision. “This is still going to be a little sticky in the morning,” Mama said, perhaps having noticed Jackie had opened her eyes, “but at least it won’t make a mess. You’ll need a bath then, anyways.” Jackie knew that Mama was as much talking to herself as she was to Jackie, so no answer was expected of her. She just sat there, waiting for Mama to finally be satisfied. After tending to a few more spots in Jackie’s hair, she apparently decided that was good enough, and set the last wipe on the tray, before unlocking it, taking the tray to the trash to dump the used wipes, and then dropping the filthy tray into the sink for future washing. For her part, Jackie took the opportunity to stretch her arms and rotate her torso a little bit, pleased to finally have a bit more freedom of movement now that the tray that had limited her mobility for much of the last hour was no longer an obstacle. With the tray now gone, it would be possible to move her arms enough to reach the buttons at her sides and between her legs that held the strap around her legs and waist in place, but that would only cause trouble and Mama would be there to do that for her any second. As predicted, Mama returned right away, undoing the straps and just slightly pulling Jackie forward so that her knees now hung maybe six inches beyond the end of the seat. In a move both she and Jackie knew well, Mama slid her right arm into that gap, bent her knees, then powerfully boosted Jackie up off of the seat and onto her right hip. Instinctively, Jackie wrapped her arms around Mama’s neck and put her head over Mama’s shoulder, facing backwards, while also bringing her legs around Mama’s waist, both of which helped bring a sense of stability to the position for her and seemed to help Mama walk more naturally as well. She didn’t particularly relish being carried, but she was even less interested in falling, so once she’d been picked up she did what she could to prevent it. Once they were settled, Mama took off towards Jackie’s nursery. Her arm had naturally slid to the seat of Jackie’s diaper when Jackie wrapped her legs around her, which, combined with the wide angle of her legs, meant that the small bounce accompanying every step up the stairs smashed her mess a little further into previously unsullied areas of Jackie’s crotch. Quickly, they reached the nursery, and Mama seamlessly slid Jackie down to a standing position near the changing table. “Alright,” she said, deftly removing the party hat from Jackie’s head and setting it on the edge of the changing table. “Arms up please!” Jackie did as she was told, and Mama quickly circled around behind her, undid the zipper on her back, and pulled the short little dress she’d been wearing over her head, leaving Jackie naked except for her mittens, frilly ankle socks, and diaper. “Let’s see,” she mused quietly as she deposited the dress into the laundry hamper and went into Jackie’s closet to grab some pajamas. “Perfect.” Mama emerged holding a pink fleece footed sleeper, which would hardly have been Jackie’s first choice. Though the weather was getting a little cooler at night now, it was hardly enough to necessitate such warm pajamas, especially when she’d already be tightly wrapped in her blanket. Lighter layers didn’t help that much given the tight swaddle, but she’d still prefer them to the thick fleece that would only make getting comfortable that much trickier. Mama draped the sleeper over the side of the crib, then reached down to the bottom of the changing table and grabbed a diaper, unfurling it on the padded surface above. “Hop up!” she instructed Jackie. Jackie did so eagerly, not even caring about the awful squish that came when she enthusiastically plopped herself down on the top of the table. She’d been right all along - Mama really must have meant she wouldn’t be cleaning her face, but then got cold feet when she thought about the extra laundry. Thank god! Jackie laid back on the fresh diaper, knowing Mama liked to keep it there to help line up the next diaper to her body, and to catch any dribbles that unfortunately occasionally escaped during a change. Jackie always hated when that happened and she was denied even the few minutes she normally got in a completely dry diaper, but even if that happened it would be an incredible upgrade over what she’d expected just a minute ago. The powder or wipes container or something must have been empty, because Mama spent a little while longer than usual searching for something under the table when normally all the main supplies were right on hand on the table’s side. “Here we go,” Mama muttered, standing up before adding more loudly, “Hold still.” That was a slightly unusual admonition, but Jackie did so. Mama reached between her bent knees to undo the first tape, but instead of the telltale tearing sound, Jackie instead felt a slight pressure slightly lower, and then heard a puncturing sound. “Oh no!” she thought. With her head back she couldn’t quite see past her own breasts and the bulging thickness of the diaper, but she was suddenly sure Mama had told her to hold still because she was using a pair of scissors to slice little drainage slits into the shell of her diaper. She wasn’t getting a change at all - Mama was just preparing to double diaper her! “If I’d have known you’d be so worn out I would have added a booster so we could put you straight to bed,” she explained, confirming Jackie’s fears. “So we’ll just have to do two diapies instead!” Double diapers weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but Jackie was not subjected to them all that often. Her diapers were seemingly plenty thick and absorbent on their own, so Mama only resorted to doubling up maybe once a month. The reasons ranged from relatively defensible situations in which neither Mama nor Jackie would want to have to deal with a diaper change to more overtly cruel scenarios like this one. At least Jackie would likely not really need to go anywhere in this one - in her crib it wouldn’t really matter much that her legs were pushed even further apart, making even crawling more awkward. Since there was no cleanup or even powdering to be done, Mama was done adding the second diaper very quickly. Jackie was used to her snug diaperings, but she could have sworn Mama had pulled even tighter than usual, no doubt in an effort to further compound Jackie’s misery by wedging her poop even closer to her skin. Mama helped Jackie to a seated position on the table, then helped her slide off. Awkwardly, Jackie waddled over to the side of her crib, struggling with the thickness between her legs. Mama beat her there, grabbing the sleeper and unfurling it such that she could work it over Jackie’s feet and legs, and then pulled it up and guided Jackie’s mittened hands through the heavy sleeves. Finally, she pulled up the zipper, needing to pull the loose material towards herself in order to avoid getting stuck on the bulging mass of padding around Jackie’s waist. Mama turned around and grabbed a bottle off of the warmer that sat on the changing table, presumably having brought it up during the slightly extended period Jackie had spent stuck in her highchair between being fed dinner and subjected to her birthday cake. Holding Jackie’s hand, she slowly led her over to the large rocking chair in the corner. Sitting down, she helped Jackie lay down next to her and position her head on her lap. Though Mama’s thighs were pressed against each other, Jackie was still far more conscious of how close she was to Mama’s crotch than she would have been had Mama had even a skimpy pair of shorts on. Jackie’s nose had basically gone numb to the smell of her diaper, but now it was awoken by the lingering smells of the far more mature action that Mama had finished participating in just minutes ago. Fortunately, the bottle was brought to her lips without Mama doing anything to stretch out the moment. Jackie accepted it, happy enough to have something to wash away all of the lingering sweetness in her mouth even if it was baby formula. It certainly didn’t help with the tremendous fullness she was experiencing, but even water probably wouldn’t have been able to help much with that, and that was never an option anyways. It only took a few minutes for Jackie to slurp down her bottle, and when she’d finished, Mama pulled the bottle away and set it on the end table next to her. Jackie hoped that given Mama’s insistence that she needed to go to sleep so urgently that even a diaper change needed to wait, she might forgo the customary post-bottle burping, but unfortunately there was no such consistency. With the practice that came from years of doing this multiple times a day, Mama helped Jackie slide up and reposition herself onto Mama’s lap. While she was more kneeling than sitting, she’d been burped in dirty diapers more than enough times to know that the position gave Mama ample opportunity to employ either knee bounces or butt pats to further compound her messy misery. Sure enough, quite suddenly Mama’s right leg, conveniently the one Jackie was straddling, apparently became irrepressibly restless, bouncing high enough to inflict intermittent pressure on Jackie’s backside as she also patted Jackie’s back to bring out some burps. The bounces were pretty light, and the second diaper was thick enough to provide a bit of protection, but it was more than enough to make sure Jackie’s attention stayed squarely focused on her disgusting diapers. Even preoccupied, Jackie managed to generate a few burps quite quickly, and so while it felt longer to her, she was really only stuck on the receiving end of Mama’s bounces for about a minute. Once Mama was satisfied, she eased Jackie’s upper body off of her shoulder. Jackie knew this maneuver as well, and automatically pulled her right leg back and put her foot on the floor, leaving her left knee on the couch, which gave Mama the option to either carry her or otherwise direct her to either crawl or walk to their destination. This time, Mama stood and slid her hand into Jackie’s, wordlessly walking Jackie the couple steps to the crib. Arriving there, Jackie made sure to quickly climb up, knowing that if she dallied at all, Mama would help, and surely that would involve being forced to sit down on her full diaper one last time for the night. In a lot of ways it hardly mattered, since it would be hard to really make her backside meaningfully more messy, but years of learned self-preservation instincts told her to spare herself whenever possible, and so by quickly clamoring up she was able to have first contact with the firm mattress come from her hands and knees rather than her bottom. Jackie eased herself onto her side and then positioned herself on her back with her head on her pillow, centering herself on the blanket as Mama expected. “Good girl,” Mama said idly, taking the near side of the blanket and pulling it over Jackie’s body, tucking it under Jackie’s body at the shoulder, waist, and feet, effectively pinning it under Jackie. With practiced precision, she then grabbed the far side of the blanket and pulled it snugly over Jackie’s body using a little fold and tuck maneuver at the feet and an additional tuck at Jackie’s shoulder to effectively seal Jackie into a cocoon of warmth. Jackie could roll onto her side, but since Jackie’s arms started pinned tightly to her sides and her feet were held tightly together, she usually couldn’t really wriggle free even if the blankets were usually a bit looser in the morning than when she was out to bed. Mama turned quickly and opened a drawer under the surface of the changing table, pulled out a pacifier, and plopped it into Jackie’s mouth. In truth, Jackie was so used to having it in that sleeping without it might have proved kind of awkward. “Sleep tight, birthday girl,” Mama cooed, bending down and placing a patronizing smooch on Jackie’s forehead. “Hope you have sweet dreams about how good your birthday cake was! Or,” she said, dropping to a quieter, more conspiratorial tone, still with her face just inches from Jackie’s, “maybe you’ll dream about how much you wish you had mine.” She stood up, holding eye contact with a smug grin on her face as she pulled up the rail of the crib. “Night, night,” she said dismissively as she turned away, snapping off the light and closing the door behind her. Jackie took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t as the smell that she’d gone slightly nose-blind to assaulted her anew. She knew that by the time she woke up she’d barely smell herself, but also that every time she entered her room for the next couple days she’d get a little reminder of her ordeal. She wiggled a little, trying her best to stretch into as comfortable a position as possible given how restrictively she was swaddled. She’d been a side sleeper before all this, but that wasn’t as comfortable with her hands both down at her sides, and so she tended to sleep on her back these days. Once she was reasonably satisfied with her position, she did her best to hold still. Jackie wasn’t completely unfamiliar with trying to sleep in messy diapers, but it almost always was because something unfortunate happened sometime between being put to bed and morning. Being put down for a nap already poopy was a punishment Mama did use every once in a blue moon, though, and it gave her enough experience to know that if you could just hold still long enough to let your sleep routine take over, you could kind of succeed at ignoring the stickiness and the smell and eventually drift off. Still, though, it was hard not to focus on it when it was so absurdly unfair. Being sent to bed for a whole night of stinky slumber happened less than annually. Mama threatened it sometimes, but even she seemed to think it was a little too cruel to actually punish Jackie with it. Not for the first time, though, now that it was actually happening it was for something completely ridiculous. Maybe the frosting had been the plan all along. Jackie knew that if she asked for cake tomorrow (or really any other day of the year), the best she could hope for would be to be turned down without even a moment’s consideration, and yet somehow today her failure to eat enough cake for a small party was enough to merit a punishment this extreme? The whole thing felt like it was a set-up to remind Jackie that Mama could do whatever she wanted, even if Jackie still couldn’t really work out how Mama would have been able to tell she was about to poop herself. She hoped the frosting hadn’t been the plan all along, and the dirty diaper had just been a cruel little added bonus that Mama decided to use to her advantage - she’d hate to find out she’d been the architect of her own demise like that. Trying not to think about that problem, Jackie’s tiring mind drifted instead to Mama’s taunt on her way out of the room. Of course, if she had to choose between the two, Jackie would have preferred Mama’s evening to the one she was being subjected to, but Mama had driven her expectations so low that even just to have been allowed a normal sized piece of a cake (maybe with a fork, if she was getting really greedy) and a timely diaper change could have passed as an above average day. In typical Mama fashion, though, she’d found a way to make a day that should have celebrated her increasing maturity a particularly poignant example of how much of that she’d lost, all while also finding a way to viscerally illustrate to Jackie exactly what adult pleasures she was missing while she was stuck in a seemingly endless loop of being one again. She’d probably never even be able to look at cake as a welcome reprieve from her usual diet ever again, since at best she’d be reminded of this disaster and at worst she’d have to worry it might be repeated. As Mama’s taunting had made clear, it had definitely been a happier birthday for her than it had been for Jackie. Again.

Hi guys, This is my second story, I wrote it as a more smutty aside to my other, ongoing one. It is a short story I have no plans on continuing. It is very smutty and mature, make sure you're okay with that before reading. Comments, feedback and/or critiques are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading and enjoy the story --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Frustration “Please…” she moaned, although the large ball gag that was currently occupying her mouth did not allow for any recognizable words to be heard. She wasn’t even sure if there was anyone around to even listen to her, as her world was darkness, caused by blindfold that was tightly strapped over her eyes. The few things she knew for sure was that she couldn’t stop drooling over herself, that she was sweating profusely and the vibrations on her pussy were driving her to insanity. The sybian she was sitting on buzzed gently but persistently, not intense enough for her to reach an orgasm, but intense enough so that she had no hope of ignoring it. Cuffs around her ankles, attached to the relentless machine with short chains, ensured she couldn’t get up and she was at the mercy of the device. With some effort, she could raise herself so that the thick diapers she was wearing barely touched the saddle, which gave her some small and temporary relief, but she couldn’t hold that position very long. Every time she tried, the strain on her upper legs got worse and she was able to keep herself free from the vibrations for a shorter and shorter time. Eventually she would fall upon the saddle again, driving the dildo deeper into her pussy. A very cruel game which was slowly driving her crazy, being unable to cum yet also having the pleasure never stop. Even worse, the more she wet herself, the larger her diapers grew, and she was less and less able to distance herself from the relentless buzzing. The wetter her diapers got, the better the vibrations passed through them, reaching her aching pussy. She wasn’t sure how long she had been stuck in this predicament, and she had lost count of how much she had peed in her thick and thirsty diapers. He had made sure she drank plenty of water beforehand. She heard the words of the man she often called Daddy echo in her head: “Good girls stay well hydrated.” Her diapers felt hot and clammy, soaked as they were, mostly with pee, but also some other, naughtier, juices. Still, they showed no sign of being even close to capacity, as Daddy made sure to layer a second, even bigger diaper on top of the first. He probably included a number of boosters, but she didn’t know how many, as she was already wearing the blindfold when he had thickly diapered her. To her it felt like she was sitting on a massive pillow strapped between her legs. “Just to keep my little princess safe and protected.” He had said to her when he locked her private parts away in the thick prison of plastic and padding. That alone caused her to blush and get wet. On top of the incredibly thick diapers, she had felt him putting on plastic pants, and she had heard the distinct click of a small lock. Not that she would have been able to take them off in her current position anyway, as her hand were encased in thick mittens and locked by a short chain attached to the back of the collar she was wearing. With her arms in this reverse-prayer position, she was completely helpless, driven to the edge by the combination of lust and vulnerability. Not being able to occupy her thought with anything but the ceaseless vibrations, she grew more and more desperate to cum or to get free, although she was no longer sure which option she preferred. Suddenly, she felt hot breath in her neck. “You’re doing a very good job, princess.” He whispered in her ear before kissing her multiple times from her neck down to her nipple, before gently kissing each nipple and grabbing both with two fingers. Her helplessness and blindness, combined with her nipples being played with caused her to grow even hornier. She tried riding the sybian harder and harder, but she still couldn’t reach the orgasm she so desperately wanted. She mewled into her gag, begging her Daddy for sweet, sweet release, but he just kept gently playing with her nipples, teasing her. “Do you really want to come, princess?” He asked, his voice sweet as honey. She moaned yes into her gag repeatedly, but the words came out mostly unrecognizable, and caused her to drool even more, but she couldn’t care about that anymore. It seemed he had understood her, though, and said: “Well, I could allow you to come, but you’ll have to prove to me that you are a good girl. Will you show me that you’re a good girl?” Knowing she was walking right into a trap, but so, so desperate to orgasm, she quickly nodded her head “Yes, yes, please, anything!” she tried to say. Anything just to find sweet release. “Very well. I knew you wanted to prove you’re a good girl to me.” He whispered before giving her a final kiss on her gag and letting go of her very erect nipples. Next, she felt him reaching into the back of her double diaper and insert something in her rear, and she was embarrassed to discover that it was turning her on even more. Nothing seemed to happen for a few moments, except for the saddle that was still happily buzzing against her diapered crotch, when suddenly she felt a rush of warm water go into her ass. She would have yelped if she could have. “No, no, no, no, no! He’s giving me an enema!” She protested, but was helpless to stop the flow of warm water entering her. “Good girl.” He whispered in her ear again, which caused her to relax more and stop trying to resist the flow entering her. The water kept on flowing and flowing, making her belly feel bloated. It was torture, not knowing how much of the enema was left and having no choice but to sit there, massively turned on, and take it like the good girl her Daddy kept telling her she was. After what felt like hours, she felt the flow of water slowing down and, eventually, stopping. He gently removed the tube from her rear, and said: “You’ve been very good so far, but to make sure you are properly cleaned out, you’ll have to hold that in for at least half an hour, do you think you can do that, Princess?” Her eyes went wide underneath the blindfold, and she started struggling against her cuffs, her stomach already cramping up. “Half an hour?! That was totally unfair and impossible, she didn’t agree to that!” She tried shouting in her gag. He smiled evilly, and said: “It’s fine if you don’t, sweety, but then you won’t have proven to me that you are a good girl, and only good girls get to orgasm.” She balked, tears coming to her eyes from unfairness, but also desperation. She wanted, no, needed to come so badly, she could hardly think about anything else. She weakly nodded, agreeing with her cruel Daddy, desperate to prove she was indeed a good girl. Without warning, he turned the sybian on a bit more, and she gasped in her gag and started riding it as much as her bondage allowed her. She got closer and closer to the edge, but was still unable to cum, getting more and more desperate. “I have a timer here, and if you fail to hold it in, I can always fill you up again so we can try again.” She squirmed on her vibrating throne, which, in combination with her aching insides, was making her sweat. She had no idea how long she still had to go, desperate for her Daddy’s approval and the subsequent reward, she did not dare letting a single squirt of water escape her. She clenched as hard as she could, the desire to be a good girl for her Daddy the most important thought in her head. Lost in her own, dark world of pleasure and discomfort, she tried to put the endlessly teasing vibrations on her sensitive parts out of her head, when suddenly she felt his two large hands grab her sensitive tits from behind. While gently massaging them, she heard him whisper in her ear: “You’re such a good girl, sweet princess, you’re almost halfway already.” She squirmed, unsure if she could hold it that much longer. “You can choose to let go now, princess, but I will be very disappointed in you. I might even leave you here all night, to teach you to be good.” He let go of her tits, and she immediately longed for his touch again, when suddenly the sybian was turned up to the maximum, the vibrations shaking her entire body. She gasped loudly and struggled in her bonds, rattling the chains, her sphincter almost instantly losing the battle. She managed to barely hold on, as only a tiny squirt of dirty water escaped her. She moaned loudly and started grinding her thick diapers against the saddle, her lust overtaking any sense she still had, when she heard his voice quietly whisper in her ear: “Good girls don’t cum without permission either, princess, but I think you knew that already.” She was nearly orgasmed right that instant, when the vibrations decreased in intensity, and she was able to stop herself and catch her breath. She wondered what he would have done if she had climaxed just now, would he actually leave her here all night, bound on this saddle? The thought frightened her, she knew him to be a man of his word. How would it feel to sit here bound for hours, tortured by vibrations, in a completely filled diaper, never being able to cum? She almost wanted to try it out. To be naughty, and try to grind until she came, but it scared her a little bit, and she didn’t want to disappoint him either. Lost in her own little world of sexual torment and barely contained enemas, she knew she couldn’t hold on much longer. If her time wasn’t up soon, she would have no choice but to be naughty, despite trying so hard to be a good girl. Her stomach cramped, and another squirt of warm water escaped her, into her waiting, thirsty diapers. She moaned, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t notice. “Was this enough to warrant a punishment?” She thought, slight panic growing within her. “It’s been half an hour, my dear. You’ve been very good, you have permission to let go now.” She stopped holding it in and, with a load moan, the warm water instantly came rushing out of her, into her waiting diapers. It kept on flowing out and out and was all greedily absorbed by the thick layers of diapers. The stream never seemed to stop, the sensation of sweet relief being almost enough to bring her over the edge. Her diapers seemed to grow more and more, the warm, dirty wetness surrounding her pussy and ass on all sides. The second diaper discolored as well, as it absorbed all the brown, mushy water. The sybian was turned up to the maximum as her tits were grabbed again, the massage now being much less gentle. The thickness of her swollen, warm and dirty diapers ensured she could no longer raise up enough to escape the intense vibrations. Her thick and soaked diapers made the vibrations inescapable, now being thick enough that they always were always pressed against the saddle, no matter how she positioned herself. Her entire body shook along with the seat as she pressed her aching pussy, trapped in her dirty diaper, hard against it. As the last bit of water escaped her. He whispered in her ear, with a throaty voice: “Come for me, princess.” She could no longer hold back and started grinding against the saddle as hard as her bondage allowed her. The vibrations, the massage on her tits and the dildo inside her all worked together to pleasure her so much she could no longer think. The soaking wet and messy diaper that surrounded her crinkled noisily as she grinded against it, making her moan loudly. She arched her back as the first wave of an orgasm quickly reached her, as she screamed uncontrollably in her gag as all the combined pleasures overtook her as she came, hard. Her intense orgasm left her weak, breathing deeply, while her knees shook. She tried to collect herself, but the intense vibrations never ceased, the thick layers of diapers not allowing her the slightest relief as she felt them surrounding her on all sides. She cried out, begging for release, as a second orgasm already started to build. The sensations were overloading her senses, she felt like she was going insane from the inescapable pleasure, but she had no choice. She helplessly climaxed for the second time in just a few minutes, even faster than before. She was a panting, sweaty mess, yet the vibrations against her pussy still refused to relent. He let go of her tits, and she sighed when she felt a slight bit of relief, but then she suddenly felt two small clamps attached to her defenseless nipples, making her moan once again. They weren’t tight enough to hurt her, but they did increase their sensitivity a lot. They hardly seemed a noteworthy addition to her, on top of all her other accessories, until they suddenly started to vibrate as well. This sexual torture of her nipples meant the vibrations were coming from everywhere, she could no longer focus or form coherent thoughts, as she was rapidly driven to a third orgasm, this one even more intense and lasting much longer than the previous two. Without warning, all the vibrations stopped, and she was left sitting there, finally able to catch her breath. It was finally over, she could change out of her soaking, messy diapers, be freed from her bondage and cuddle with her Daddy. She was glad that this intense experience was finally done, although these orgasms were some of the best she had ever had in her entire life. The sheer helplessness of her bondage, the merciless vibrations from the uncaring machine she was sitting on, combined with the humiliation of her utterly filled diapers turned her on in ways she couldn’t describe. She felt a gentle kiss in her neck and leaned into it, delighted that her Daddy was there and treating her like the princess she was. She contentedly moaned, happy he was here to take care of her and make her feel better. She felt his warm breath next to her ear, as he whispered with a sinful tone: “Good girl. Only an hour more to go.” She gasped loudly into her gag as all the vibrations turned up to maximum again.

My palms were sweating. So was my back. I so desperately wanted to play it cool, to hide my discomfort, but there was no way I could do that and keep control. I knew I looked awful - red faced and clammy - and to make matters worse, I was squirming in my seat. I winced as another cramp hit, and caught a look of pity from the woman sitting opposite me. That would change to disgust soon enough, if the toilet door didn’t open soon. It was typical of my luck. I’d done everything right - only having a couple of drinks, making sure I went before leaving the bar, then sitting in the train carriage with the toilet, so I could get to it if I needed to. Ally would have been proud of me. Although maybe it was three drinks, rather than two. And that last pee had been before the final drink. But I hadn’t expected the toilet on the train to be occupied from the minute we left the station. That really wasn’t fair. I felt something hot creeping past my butt cheeks, slowly bubbling out. My whole body went cold. It smelled foul. That lady who felt sorry for me would smell it shortly. Everyone would smell it shortly. For a moment I thought it was just gas, but the bubbling continued, and the heat didn’t go away. Instead it clung to me, spreading out around my butt cheeks, and forward to my crotch. I was pooping my pants, uncontrollably, in front of a train carriage full of people, right next to the toilet. I started to go numb. The smell hit the lady opposite first. She’d probably realised what had happened from the look on my face, but she was clearly unprepared for how bad it was going to smell, because she visibly gagged as the stench hit her. What was worse was that as she and everyone else realised that the grown adult sitting with them in the train carriage had just soiled themselves, I was still pooping my pants. The train pulled into a station, and in spite of it not being my stop, I stood up and headed for the door. The mess in my underwear squelched as I walked, and I’m certain that had I glanced back at the seat there would have been a huge stain on it, but I avoided doing that. And I avoided making eye contact with anyone else on the train. The one piece of good fortune was that everyone made space for me to get past them, and off the train. As I stepped onto the platform I felt the cool autumn air against my skin, and I realised that the legs of my jeans were cold. Soaking wet. At some point I’d also peed myself, and hadn’t even realised. Fortunately the station was almost empty, and apart from one guard at the exit, I didn’t see anyone else as I headed through the ticket barriers and out into the night. I considered getting a cab to take me the rest of the way home, but given the state of my underwear, the smell, and the very obvious stain on my jeans, I assumed no driver would let me in their car. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone and dialled Ally. “Hey, you OK?” She asked, clearly not expecting me to call. “Yeah. Er…. Would you mind picking me up from a station?” “I was just about to get ready for bed, but I suppose so.” She sounded annoyed. She was about to get more annoyed. “I'm at Wexhorne”. “That's miles away. Why are you there?” “I… had to get off the train” I tried to be as vague as possible. “It's not that late, just get on the next one” “I can't.” “Oh? And why's that?” From her tone, she knew already. “I… I'll explain by text.” “No you won't.” I could hear the frustration in her voice. “If you want me to drive over an hour away to pick you up from a station when there are plenty of trains that could take you home, you'll tell me exactly why now.” “But it's embarrassing.” It's not like there was anyone to hear me, but I really didn't want to say the words out loud anyway. “I don't care how embarrassing it is. You're going to tell me now, or you can walk home.” For a moment I considered doing just that, but I swallowed my pride. “I pooed my pants.” “I fucking knew it.” I was about to reply, but she continued. “That's what, the eighth time this week? More than once a day. And that's not counting when you're asleep. I told you to wear one of the bedtime nappies, but of course you know better.” “But people would see. And hear.” “They wouldn't. And even if they did, what would it matter? Yet again you're stuck in stinking pants until you get home. That's got to be far more embarrassing than someone knowing you're wearing incontinence pads.” I sighed. She just wouldn't stop pushing me to wear nappies. It was bad enough she insisted on them at night so that I didn't soak her while I was asleep, but I didn't need them during the day. I never had, and it's not like my accidents had got worse. “I'll see you soon. I'm really sorry.” “See you in about an hour” she replied, before putting the phone down. I looked at the bench outside the station entrance. Even though it was metal, I felt bad about sitting on it, knowing the mess in my underwear would seep out onto it. But there was no way I wanted to stay standing up for however long it took Ally to reach me. I started to pace around, trying to work out what to do. The glowing lights of a little corner shop caught my eye. Going in would be pretty unpleasant for everyone concerned, but it might also offer a solution to the sitting issue. From the outside it didn’t seem too busy, so I walked toward it. The bell dinged as I pushed the door open, and I nodded to the shopkeeper as he glanced over to me. He looked friendly enough, but his face went from cheerful to confused when he caught sight of the wet stain on the front of my jeans. It was a look I knew well. I’d spent an entire lifetime not making it to the toilet and having accidents. There was no real rhyme or reason to them, and over the years, I’d seen countless doctors and ‘specialists’, and tried everything to deal with them, from alarms and routines, to charts and rewards, to punishments and shaming, to laxatives and enemas. Some helped for a little bit, but most were just disruptive and unpleasant for zero benefit. Every so often I’d go through a phase without accidents at all, which might last for months, and I’d feel like all my issues were over. But it never lasted. Eventually I’d end having accidents again. Although it generally wasn’t as frequent or severe as it had been recently. I didn’t want to spend more time in the shop than was absolutely necessary. I knew how bad I smelled, and in the past I’d been asked to leave places because of being wet or messy. I didn’t fancy being subjected to that kind of humiliation again, so I made a bee-line for the homewares section, and grabbed what I was looking for - a roll of bin bags. I grabbed a bottle of water on my way to the counter, and went to pay. It was rare for people to comment on accidents, but I braced myself anyway, in case the shopkeeper had an opinion that he couldn’t keep to himself. Fortunately he was polite, and I managed to escape without feeling even worse than I did. After wandering back to the station, I pulled a couple of black sacks off the roll of bin bags, laid them on the bench, then sat down with a disgusting squelch. I took the cap off my bottle of water and took a swig. Inevitably that would end up making me need to pee again, but at this point I was such a state that wetting myself again wasn’t really going to be an issue so I didn't give any more thought to it. What I did give more thought to, what I couldn’t help giving thought to, was Ally’s insistence on me wearing nappies. We’d been together for nearly 18 months, and when we first hooked up, it was during a period where I was having an extended clean and dry spell. We had nearly three months before I first had an accident around her, and it was nearly four before I first wet the bed we were sharing. Even then I managed to hide the severity of my issues for a couple of weeks - largely by avoiding spending the night with her - but eventually I soaked her bed, and that was when I had to come ‘clean’. She was incredibly understanding, more so than just about everyone else who’d found out about my issues, but she also didn’t want to have to deal with the repercussions of my accidents. The first mention of ‘protection’ came as a question. Specifically, “why didn’t my parents put me back in nappies?” It wasn’t like the conversation was comfortable before she asked that, but that made it more so, because it dug up some pretty traumatic memories. For my parents, 'protection' had never really been an option. When I was growing up, disability was treated much more kindly than in the past, but there was still a sense of shame around it. Certainly when it came to continence issues, which on their own weren’t even really considered a disability as much as a symptom of other disabilities. So generally they didn’t acknowledge that my accidents were a permanent thing. Instead they treated them as a temporary personal failing on my part that would eventually go away - even though they had to deal with them almost daily up until my teens. Similarly, the general attitude around ‘differences’, whether physical or mental, was as far as possible to treat people in the same way as everyone else. Equality rather than equity, so to speak, and as a result very few people ever even considered that there might have been a better way to handle my accidents than my parents already were. Very few, but not zero. I was five the first time, and was being looked after by a neighbour, round her house. I was in a time out, sitting on her bed, ironically as punishment for having an accident, when I realised I had to poop. It was a long time ago and I have no idea whether I would have made it if I’d asked to go, but I didn’t, and by the time my babysitter got back I’d messed so badly that it had leaked out beyond the leg holes of my shorts and onto her bed. Unsurprisingly, she was upset, and after cleaning me up, she grabbed a nappy belonging to one of the other children and tried to put it on me. I screamed and cried and fought back, and after a minute or two, she clearly decided that it was more trouble than it was worth to try to put it on me. A year or so later, and a different neighbour was babysitting me, and although I know I had quite a few accidents around her, generally she didn’t notice them - or didn’t want to deal with them - so they got dealt with by my parents. This time though, she couldn’t. I pooped myself on the way home from school, and it was so bad and so obvious that she also grabbed a nappy after cleaning me up. Again, I was deeply unhappy with this idea, and I threw a sufficiently large tantrum that she didn’t go through with putting it on me. When I explained all this to Ally she held my hand and stroked it to help me feel better, but she didn’t let up. She calmly and patiently explained to me that she would be grateful if I’d be willing to try wearing them at night so that the bed stayed dry and we both got a good nights sleep. And that she wouldn’t think any less of me for wearing them. After a tiny bit more resistance, I acquiesced, and let her order some. The night they arrived was a little surreal. Up until then she’d been a bit of a martinet about how much liquid I drank in the evenings, and was really opposed to me having any alcohol, but that night she acted completely different, even encouraging me to have a drink with her while we watched TV. By the time we were ready to go to bed, she led me upstairs, had me lie on the bed, then helped me put the nappy on. Then she kept telling me I was attractive and sexy, even while wearing it. Then, when I woke up the bed was clean and dry, in spite of the nappy being absolutely soaked. I still felt silly and babyish wearing them to bed, but it was hard to argue with the benefits. The talk of daytime protection didn’t really heat up until we’d been dating about six months and we moved in together. One of things with spending a lifetime having accidents is that you get really, really good at hiding them. Although by then I was having small accidents pretty much every day, and bigger ones a few times a week, until then I managed to make sure Ally wasn’t aware of how bad things were. In the first few days after we moved in together, she commented on how much laundry I was doing, and how many outfit changes I went through every day. I made excuses, but they weren't particularly convincing ones. Then came the first time I really relaxed in her company. Until then I'd been really paranoid about accidents when I was near her, making trips to the toilet every thirty minutes or so, avoiding any activities that would stop me doing that, and even cancelling plans when I'd had accident prone days. As a result I'd only had a handful of daytime incidents around her, on long journeys, and when we went somewhere that engaged my attention too much; because of that i managed to hide most of my accidents, and when she did notice, I was able to get cleaned up before she realised how bad things were. But there was no way I could keep that up with us spending so much time together, and that first weekend together she headed out to do a food shop while I went into the study to do some painting. As usual, I got really engrossed in what I was doing, and wasn't paying attention to my body. I know I felt like I needed to poop at some point, but it wasn't too bad, and I just kind of ignored it and kept doing what I was doing. I didn't even hear Ally come back in from the shops. Or the study door open. But I did hear her comment about the smell. And ask me if I'd pooped myself. And because I didn't think I had, I told her no. Which was when she walked up behind me, made me stand up, and checked my pants like I was a toddler. And, of course, found that not only had I had an accident, but I was wet as well, and there was now a puddle on the (thankfully wipe clean) study chair. What was even more unexpected was her response. Not anger or frustration, but concern. Particularly when she realised that I genuinely hadn't been aware that I'd had an accident. That was when the talk of daytime nappies first came up. As well as seeing a doctor. I agreed to the latter to avoid the former, and although that turned out to be as useless as every other time I'd seen one, at least Ally was reassured that nothing was seriously wrong with me. I took another swig of my water and checked the time on my phone. It had been about fifteen minutes since I called Ally, so I still had a long wait ahead of me. But I also had 22% battery. With no guarantees she would be able to find me if the phone died, I put it on battery saving mode and put it back in my pocket. Then I closed my eyes and waited for her to arrive. **** I felt the soft bedding under me, and took in the room. In spite of the heat of the sun warming my skin through the window, the patterned wallpaper and chintzy bedding gave it a somewhat dark feel that made it quite intimidating. It was such a retro space, like the place was decorated decades ago and hadn't been touched since, but also incredibly well-kept up, without any age-related wear or yellowing, or dust. It felt so familiar. I tried to place it, but I just couldn't get where it could be, where I could know it from. There were sounds too, children playing outside, and people going about their business downstairs and in other rooms. And there was a smell. The stink of poop. I knew where the smell was coming from, of course, but I glanced down anyway to check. Sure enough, I'd had a bad, messy accident, and the mess was leaking out the leg holes of my shorts. I heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and suddenly I was filled with dread. I was sitting in an unknown room, in a house I couldn't place, with a mess in my pants that was so bad it was leaking onto a stranger's bed, and now that stranger was coming into the room. My heart raced as the door handle turned, and as the door opened, I felt my bladder release in fear. When the door opened, I was confronted with a woman I hadn’t seen since i was a young child - except she hadn’t aged a day since I last saw her - if anything, she was younger. My parents neighbour. I put the pieces together. I knew where I was. I knew when I was, and in spite of not being a five year old anymore, I knew what came next. I braced for her to tell me off. Instead I was met with a concerned look, “You’ve had another accident?” I nodded, a little confused at this situation playing out differently from how I remembered. “Did you know you needed to go before it happened?” I shrugged. “Kinda.” She took a moment to consider her answer, then gently rubbed my back, “It’s OK. It doesn’t really matter.” This felt so strange. This was one of the more traumatic things that had happened to me when I was this young, and now it was replaying, but in a completely different way. “Accidents aren’t very nice, are they?” she asked. “No. They’re really not.” “I’ve got a suggestion for something that might help,” I looked at her, half expecting what was coming, but also still struggling to believe this situation was playing out like it was. “How about we put you back into a nappy for now.” I was about to object, but she continued. “I think your tummy’s a bit upset, and it’s making you have accidents without knowing. So instead of you feeling uncomfy and upset when you have an accident, you can just come to me and I’ll change you into a clean nappy” I didn’t say anything at first, instead trying to process her suggestion. “But babies wear nappies, and I’m not a baby” “You’re not,” she replied, “but big kids and adults who have accidents wear them too.” “Really?” “Yep, really. Especially if they’re not well and don’t know they need to wee or poo.” I nodded as I processed this information. Of course, as an adult myself I was fully aware of it, but being back in this situation, having the idea presented to me in this context, it suddenly felt entirely reasonable. “OK”. With that she helped me up and led me into the bathroom. I stood in front of the bath, still in my shit-covered shorts, while she got out a pack of wet wipes, a bin bag and a nappy - surprisingly, given the situation, one that was big enough to fit me. She opened up the bin bag, and had me step into it, standing with my legs slightly apart, and began easing my shorts and underwear down until they dropped into the bag. She then began wiping me clean. She was gentle, and caring, and the cool wipes felt amazing as they cleaned the disgusting mess off my skin. It had been a lifetime since someone had cared for me in that way, and the sensation was intoxicating. When she had finished wiping me down, she had me step out of the bag, and lie down on the floor. She asked me to lift my butt up so she could slip the nappy underneath me, then pulled the front up to cover my crotch, and taped it closed. I lay there for a moment, letting myself enjoy being clean, dry and cared for. Suddenly I realised that here, at least, there were no longer any downsides to being protected. And the up side was that I didn’t have to worry about accidents. **** I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and opened my eyes. It was Ally. I answered it, “Hey, everything OK?” “Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’m still on the way,” the signal was poor, and it wasn’t particularly easy to pick out what she was saying over the sound of the car in the background, “but theres roadworks everywhere, and the diversion is taking me miles out the way. I just didn’t want you worrying that I wasn’t coming, or that something had happened.” “OK. Thanks for letting me know. I love you.” “Love you too,” she replied. “See you soon.” I heard the phone disconnect, then looked at the screen. No wonder she was calling to let me know she’d be late, I’d been waiting there for nearly 90 minutes. Long enough that it felt like my jeans had almost dried out. Which was fortunate. Although that wouldn’t last long as I felt the water I’d been sipping at earlier nagging at my bladder to be released. I thought about getting up and finding somewhere to pee, but chances are by the time I found somewhere sufficiently out the way I’d have wet myself anyway, so I just closed my eyes. The problem would take care of itself sooner or later. **** I hadn’t been here in decades, but I knew this place well. It was a classroom in my old primary school. It still looked exactly like it had when I was here every day - in spite of it having closed down years ago. It even had the same smell, floor polish and the jam and cornflake cakes they gave us with our lunch. I was sitting on the floor, but as I stood up to leave, I felt my tummy cramp. I glanced in the direction of the toilets, but I was certain that I’d be able to hold it until I arrived home. I felt the gentle spring breeze against my face as I stepped out of the classroom door and into the playground. Kids were walking past me, but none of them seemed phased by the grown adult in their midst. As I got to the gate I noticed my parents’ neighbour, and went over to say hi. She greeted me with a wave, then set off walking with me. It wasn’t far from the school to the street she and my parents lived on, less than half a mile, but as we walked the cramping in my tummy got worse and worse. I began to feel it slipping past my sphincter, and slowed my walking pace as I squeezed my butt cheeks together to try to contain the impending disaster. The neighbour noticed this, and asked me if I was OK. Embarrassed by what was happening, and unwilling to admit to it, I nodded, although the sweat pooling on my brow, and the feint smell of poop that began to follow me made it clear that I wasn’t. Eventually I couldn’t hold it any longer, and I stopped momentarily as I felt a mass of soft poop push past my butt cheeks and fall into my underwear. Once again I was asked if I was OK, and once again I outright lied. And again, the familiarity of the situation struck me. I knew the next question that was coming, and I knew what would happen when I answered it. “Have you pooed yourself?” As I did when I was six, I lied. “No.” And as happened before, the neighbour walked behind me and tugged my waistband back to reveal the disgusting mess I’d just made. The next thing I expected was for her to scold me for my accident and tell me I was too old to keep having them. “You don’t need to lie, you’re not going to get in trouble for an accident”, she explained, smiling at me, “I’d rather you tell me than I have to find out by checking you though.” “OK” I replied, a little unsure. “Come on, let’s get you home and get you cleaned up.” We continued our walk back to her house, and within a few minutes we were there. Once we got home, she ushered me towards the bathroom, then stopped as we got to the door. “Has anyone ever suggested wearing protection for your accidents?” she asked. I nodded, thinking back to being put in a nappy by the other neighbour. “Would you mind if I put you in a nappy now? I think you’d be more comfy if you had another accident. And you don’t have to worry about making it to the toilet.” I gave it a moment’s thought, then nodded again. “Stay here for a minute,” she left me at the door of the bathroom, then went downstairs, before returning with a nappy that would fit me. “OK, come into the bathroom, let’s get you clean”. I followed her in. Like before, I stood still as my clothes were eased off of me and set aside, and within moments I was left standing in nothing but my messy underwear. I should have felt utterly humiliated at this point, but by now I felt completely spaced out and numb to the world. I didn’t even notice when she took the underwear down too, and I was left completely naked, being wiped clean. It felt so strange to be treated like a child. I’d expected it to be unpleasant and upsetting, but instead it felt reassuring. Particularly as this thing that was the cause of so much shame and trauma was being dealt with in an understanding, and almost matter of fact fashion. Of course I had accidents, of course I’d need to be cleaned up, and of course I’d wear nappies to deal with it. And there was nothing embarrassing or shameful about it. By the time I realised what was happening, I had been cleaned up, and a nappy had been laid out on the floor. “Can you lie down on that for me please?” I did as I was told, and was quickly taped into my clean and dry padding. As I was standing back up I noticed the neighbour putting my trousers into a plastic bag, along with my messy pants. “Don’t I need those?” I asked, suddenly feeling very exposed. She gave me an apologetic smile. “They’ve got poo on them. You’re going to have to make do without them for now. I’ll give you a towel to wrap round yourself when your parents pick you up.” I felt a little crestfallen. I didn’t mind the nappy too much, but now the other kids in the house were going to see me in it. “It’s OK, no one will say anything” she reassured me, as if reading my mind. I nodded, not entirely sure that would be the case, but trusting her for now. **** I heard a car pull up, and snapped into awareness. It was Ally, looking tired, but definitely a lot friendlier and less upset than I’d expected given her manner on the phone earlier. I gave her a wave, and got up off the bench. When I did, I noticed that my jeans were completely dry, even though I didn’t feel any need to pee at all. Glancing at my phone it had been an hour since I last spoke to Ally, so it didn’t seem like long enough for them to dry out again, but I wasn’t going to question my good luck now. I grabbed the bin bag from the bench and walked toward the car. “Hey, thank you so much” I said as I opened the door, “and I’m so sorry you had to come out”. “It’s OK,” Ally replied. I don’t mind really”. This was a surprising change of tone, but a pleasant one. Just as I was about to get in, I noticed there wasn’t anything to protect the seat. I began to walk round to the boot when Ally stopped me, “Where are you going?” “To get a bed pad from the boot.” “Don’t be silly. Besides, there’s none in there.” I sighed. I could have sworn I’d restocked them a couple of days ago. I grabbed the roll of bin bags, tore one off, and laid it out on the seat, before climbing in. “That’s probably a bit of overkill” Ally jested, “but OK, are you getting in now?” “Yeah” I said, climbing in. I felt my mess squish under me as I sat down, and realised it must have been far more than I previously thought. Or I’d had another accident just now and not noticed. I leaned over and kissed Ally on the cheek, before buckling my seatbelt, and rolling down my window. “Wow,” she said, a slight sense of amusement in her voice, “that definitely smells pretty bad. No wonder you didn’t want to stay on the train”. I blushed hard and she set off for home. “You're very quiet tonight,” she said, a concerned tone to her voice. “Yeah. Sorry. It's been a rough evening.” “Are you feeling OK?” “I think so, yeah.” In all honesty I wasn't sure. Something felt a bit off. “Why don't you close your eyes and relax until we get home?” Much as I wanted to talk to her, and keep her company on the drive, I deferred to her judgement and did as she suggested. **** Fluorescent lights reflected off the polished tile floors, and hundreds of action figures in boxes hung off the shelves that lined the aisle. A wave of excitement came over me. This was ToysRUs. It had been closed for well over a decade, and I hadn’t been in here in far longer, but it was exactly as I remembered it. I could see my dad just a few feet away, although he looked so much younger than he did normally. He almost looked the same age as me. I thought about this for a minute, but quickly got distracted by the Transformers lining the shelves. I felt my crotch get warm and looked down. That was really weird. It was the same sensation as when I wet myself, a slight tingle, and a warm feeling, but my clothes were dry. Then the cramp hit me. It was almost overwhelming, but I crouched down and pretended to look at stuff on the shelf while I dug the heel of my foot into my butt crack to try to hold the accident back. As I did, my dad glanced over at me. He would definitely know what was happening. When I was a child he’d see me doing this, then pick me up and carry me to the toilet to try to avoid an accident. Usually it was a pretty embarrassing experience, although it saved the day a fair few times. Not always though. The wave passed and I stood back up. I considered rushing to the loo while I had a moment of respite, but then I caught sight of a really cool Optimus Prime toy new in it’s box. It was the movie version, and I hadn’t seen it in years. I got it down from the shelf and began examining it, and got so completely lost in what I was doing that I completely forgot about needing to poop. At least until I felt myself having an accident there and then. By now my dad had come over much closer to me, and my cheeks flushed warm and red as I absolutely knew he’d be able to smell it. Sure enough, he looked over at me and asked, “have you had an accident?” I shook my head, embarrassed, and absolutely knowing that this would mean we had to go straight home and not keep shopping. “No.” Then without saying anything else, I felt my waistband being pulled back, heard a crinkling sound, and then he announced, “let’s get you changed and we can come back.” Before I had time to think about what was happening, I was led towards the toilets, and into the accessible cubicle with the changing station. My jeans were pulled down, and I stood dumbfounded and almost unable to move when I realised that I was wearing a nappy. **** I felt the car come to a stop and started to stir, “How are you feeling?” Ally asked. I wasn’t too bad before we set off, but now my brain was really foggy, “not sure” I replied, “kind of woozy”. “Let’s get you inside and ready for bed then.” Ready for bed’, of course, meant into a nappy. Ordinarily I was pretty resistant to this, preferring to put off being dressed like an infant until the last possible minute, but right now I really didn’t feel like complaining. And given how bad an accident I’d had this evening, I really wasn’t in a state to argue anyway. I climbed out of the car, let us both into the house and headed straight for the downstairs toilet. “Hey, where are you running off to?” Ally asked, “We’ll get you sorted out upstairs”. I must have seemed more out of sorts than I felt. My accidents were, usually, my business. Ally only really helped me get cleaned up when I was too unwell to do it myself. She had helped me put my nappy on the first few nights I wore them - they’re pretty hard to get on yourself if you’ve not had any practice - but after a few days of that we had switched to her just checking I had it on right. And now she only did that if I’d been drinking alcohol. I climbed the stairs and walked into the bathroom. Followed by Ally. “Can you take your jeans off for me?” It was phrased as a question, but it was more of an instruction. I took off my belt, undid the button and the fly, and let my jeans drop to the floor. Then I froze. Because I was wearing a nappy. I felt my legs give out from under me, and had to catch myself on the sink to avoid falling to the floor. Ally dived in to support me, and eased me down so I was sitting on the tiles. “Woah. OK, you’re definitely not well” That was an understatement. “Lay down,” she continued, “I’ll get you changed. Then straight to bed.” She eased me down so I was lying on my back, then set about changing me. I laid there not saying anything, trying to work out what was going on, too disorientated to pay attention to what was happening. When I was in a clean nappy she helped me up and guided me into the bedroom. “OK, let’s get you comfy.” she said, helping me sit down on the edge of the bed, “I’m going to call a doctor.” “No, it’s OK” I explained, “I just felt a bit funny. I’m fine now. I’ll be OK. Honest.” She scowled at me. “It’s late” I continued, “they’re just going to send us to hospital out of an abundance of caution, and I really don’t fancy sitting there waiting for six hours for someone to see us.” She may have disagreed with how ‘OK’ I was, but the threat of waiting around in hospital was enough to win her over. “OK, but you’re going to see a doctor in the morning no matter how much you don’t want to. No arguments.” “OK” I said, lying down and pulling the covers over me. I laid there for a moment, my mind racing. “Ally, this is going to sound mad,” I began, “ but how long have I been wearing nappies in the day?” Ally looked at me with a mixture of confusion and sympathy, “As long as I’ve known you. I think you told me you started wearing them again when you were about five or six.” I nodded, starting to put the pieces together. “I love you” I said, “thank you for looking after me”. “I love you too,” she replied.

Introducing Emma and Kelsey! I'm going to be posting stories about them on my Ream or SubStar! _______________________ CSI: Daycare: When Your Fiancé is Your Daycare Teacher Part 1: The Mystery Begins 25-year-old Emma stood by the edge of daycare the playroom, her cheeks glowing red as she fidgeted with her fingers. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the faint crinkle of her diaper beneath her onesie betraying her every nervous movement. This was not going to be easy. Every part of her wanted to turn around and bolt for the nap mats, but she knew Kelsey, her daycare teacher and fiancé, would find her eventually. Better to get this over with. Taking a deep breath, she shuffled toward Kelsey, who was tidying up some art supplies. Kelsey looked up as Emma approached, her warm smile immediately making Emma feel safe and loved, even if she was about to make a complete fool of herself. “Hey, Bunny,” Kelsey said gently, using her pet name for Emma. “What’s up? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” Emma avoided eye contact, twiddling her fingers as her blush deepened. “I, um, don’t want to point fingers,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, “but someone wet this diaper, like, a lot.” Kelsey raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a smile. “Oh? Someone wet the diaper you’re wearing right now?” she asked, tilting her head in playful curiosity. Emma nodded, her eyes glued to the floor. “Yep. It wasn’t me, though,” she added quickly. “I mean, I just go to daycare here. Not really fair to expect me to solve all the mysteries, you know?” Kelsey couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. She chuckled softly and crouched down to Emma’s eye level, her hands resting on her knees. “Well, that does sound like a mystery. Who do you think it could have been?” Emma shrugged, finally daring to look up at Kelsey. “I dunno. Probably some toddler, maybe Milo. He’s always up to something.” “Milo, huh?” Kelsey said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “But how would Milo get into your diaper, Bunny? That seems like a tricky feat.” Emma crossed her arms, pouting slightly. “I don’t know, Kels. I’m just saying someone did it, and it wasn’t me.” Kelsey stood up, still grinning. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to get to the bottom of this. But first, let’s get you to the changing table, okay?” Emma hesitated, her blush intensifying. “Um… also,” she added, her voice dropping to an almost inaudible whisper, “still not pointing fingers or anything, but someone pooped this pamper too. Like, a lot.” Kelsey put a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. “Oh no,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s a serious crime. A wet and poopy diaper? This is getting out of hand.” Emma nodded solemnly, clearly trying to keep her composure. “Yep. Big mess. But again, not my fault.” “Well, Bunny,” Kelsey said, taking Emma’s hand and leading her toward the changing area, “we’re going to have to get to the bottom of your poopy diaper bottom. But here’s the problem: if I change you now, we’ll destroy all the evidence. How am I supposed to solve the case if I don’t have any clues?” Emma groaned, realizing she had inadvertently turned her cute diaper change joke into an elaborate detective game. She’d hoped Kelsey would just laugh it off and get the change over with, but now it was clear she’d underestimated her fiancée’s love of theatrics. As they reached the changing table, Kelsey turned to Emma with a determined look. “Alright, Bunny. I’m officially on the case. Detective Kelsey is here to solve the mystery of the wet and poopy diaper.” Emma rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile a little. “Great. Just what I needed.” Forensics Kelsey pulled a magnifying glass from the toy bin nearby, holding it up to her eye as she examined Emma’s diaper with exaggerated seriousness. “Hmm,” she murmured, squatting down slightly to get a closer look. “Heavy saturation. Clearly, someone’s been drinking a lot of juice.” Emma covered her face with her hands, her muffled voice protesting, “Kelsey, stop! This is so embarrassing!” Kelsey ignored her, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Now, let’s see… the poopy part. Hmm, yes. Classic signs of a well-fed daycare bunny. Carrots, maybe some applesauce…” She stood up and pointed dramatically at Emma. “This is a sophisticated mess, Bunny. Someone knew what they were doing.” Emma groaned. “Kelsey, just change me already!” “Oh no, no, no,” Kelsey said, wagging her finger. “This isn’t just a diaper change. This is a crime scene. We need to interview some witnesses.” Before Emma could protest, Kelsey turned toward the playroom and called out, “Alright, everyone! Detective Kelsey is on the case! If you’ve seen anything suspicious, please come forward!” Emma’s jaw dropped as several toddlers toddled over, their curiosity piqued. Tessa, one of the daycare assistants, raised an eyebrow from across the room. “Do I even want to know what’s going on?” she asked. “It’s fine,” Emma muttered, covering her face again. “It’s just Kelsey being Kelsey.” Canvassing for Witnesses Kelsey crouched down to the toddlers’ level, holding up the magnifying glass like a seasoned detective. “Alright, kids,” she said, her voice serious. “Have any of you seen anything strange today? Anyone sneaking around Emma’s diaper?” One of the toddlers, a boy named Milo, pointed at another child. “She took my blocks!” “Noted,” Kelsey said, scribbling in an imaginary notepad. “But we’re looking for diaper-related crimes. Anyone else?” Another toddler piped up, “Emma stinky!” Emma groaned louder, burying her face in her hands. “Kelsey, please!” Kelsey straightened up, nodding solemnly. “Thank you, everyone. Your cooperation has been invaluable.” Part 2: Investigating the Crime Scene The toddlers had dispersed, but Emma was certain she’d never recover from the indignity of having her poopy diaper turned into daycare gossip. She peeked through her fingers at Kelsey, who was now pacing dramatically. “This is no ordinary case, Bunny,” Kelsey announced, spinning on her heel to face Emma. “We’re dealing with a perpetrator who operates in broad daylight, right under everyone’s noses. A serial offender, perhaps.” Emma groaned loudly. “Kelsey, just change me already!” “Oh no,” Kelsey said, shaking her head. “We’re far from done. The trail is fresh. The evidence is overwhelming. We must act swiftly if we’re to catch the culprit.” Emma let her hands fall to her sides, her face bright red. “Kelsey, please,” she whispered. “You’re going to make me die of embarrassment.” Kelsey crouched down to Emma’s eye level, her face serious but her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Bunny,” she said softly, “this is serious. I’m taking this case all the way to the top.” Before Emma could respond, Kelsey straightened up and turned toward the daycare staff. Tessa was wiping down a table nearby, her bright smile faltering slightly as Kelsey marched toward her. Questioning the Witnesses “Tessa,” Kelsey said, holding up the magnifying glass like she was about to grill her in a police procedural. “You were in the room when the alleged crime occurred. Can you account for your whereabouts?” Tessa blinked, clearly trying to figure out what was going on. “Uh… I was setting up snack time,” she said slowly. “What’s this about?” Emma, still rooted to the spot, buried her face in her hands again. “Oh my gosh, Kelsey, stop!” she mumbled into her palms. Kelsey ignored her, narrowing her eyes at Tessa. “Snack time, huh? Convenient. But did you notice anyone acting suspicious? Perhaps a certain Bunny looking shifty?” Tessa’s smile returned as she caught on to the game. “Hmm,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, Emma did seem a little fidgety earlier. But then again, she’s always fidgety.” “Hey!” Emma protested, her hands dropping to her sides. “Don’t help her!” Kelsey nodded, scribbling in her imaginary notebook. “Fidgety… interesting. Suspicious even.” Emma groaned. “I am not the suspect!” Kelsey turned to Tessa again. “Did you happen to notice any… peculiar smells coming from Emma’s general direction?” Tessa laughed, leaning on the table. “Kelsey, I work in daycare. Peculiar smells are part of the job.” Kelsey sighed, tucking the magnifying glass into her waistband. “Fair enough. Thank you for your cooperation, Tessa. But the case is far from closed.” Miss Danielle Enters the Scene Kelsey spun around, her eyes landing on Miss Danielle, who had just walked into the room carrying a clipboard. The daycare owner raised an eyebrow as Kelsey approached, her posture radiating mock seriousness. “Miss Danielle,” Kelsey said, folding her arms. “We’re conducting an investigation into a very serious matter. I need your input.” Miss Danielle looked at Emma, who was doing her best to melt into the wall. “Do I even want to know?” she asked dryly. Kelsey smiled innocently. “Emma’s diaper has been compromised. Someone wet it. And pooped it.” Miss Danielle blinked, then set her clipboard down on the nearest table. “I see,” she said, her tone perfectly deadpan. “And you’re the lead investigator, I assume?” Kelsey nodded. “Detective Kelsey, at your service.” Miss Danielle sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well, Detective, I can assure you I haven’t seen anyone tampering with Emma’s diaper. But I’ll keep an eye out for suspicious behavior.” “Thank you, Miss Danielle,” Kelsey said, tipping an imaginary hat. “Your cooperation is greatly appreciated.” Emma groaned again, her face buried in her hands. “Kelsey, you’re making me look like an idiot.” “Oh no, Bunny,” Kelsey said, turning to her with a grin. “You’re making you look like an idiot. I’m just here for the ride.” Re-Examining the Evidence Kelsey walked back to Emma and crouched down in front of her, magnifying glass in hand. “Alright, Bunny,” she said. “Let’s review the evidence. Heavy saturation. Applesauce residue. Witnesses placing you at the scene of the crime. It’s not looking good.” Emma crossed her arms, her face still burning. “None of that proves anything.” Kelsey raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Then how do you explain the fact that you’re the one wearing the wet, poopy diaper?” Emma opened her mouth to argue but immediately closed it again. “I don’t have to explain anything,” she said stubbornly. Kelsey nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting. A very defensive response. That’s exactly what a guilty person would say.” “I am not guilty!” Emma snapped. “We’ll see about that,” Kelsey said, standing up and pulling Emma gently toward the changing table. “But first, let’s clean up the evidence before the scene gets even messier.” Part 3: Solving the Case Emma squirmed as Kelsey led her to the changing table, one hand firmly clasping hers and the other holding the ever-present magnifying glass. The walk felt like a perp walk, and the giggles and curious glances from the toddlers didn’t help. Her face was as red as her hair, and the telltale crinkle of her diaper only made matters worse. “Kelsey, can’t you just change me and solve this later,” Emma whispered urgently. “Oh no, Bunny,” Kelsey said with a dramatic shake of her head. “This is just getting started. You know what they say: justice delayed is justice denied.” Emma groaned. “That’s not how that saying works.” Kelsey stopped in front of the changing table. She let go of Emma’s hand and turned to face the daycare staff and the small group of toddlers who had gathered nearby, their curiosity piqued by the ongoing spectacle. “Alright, everyone,” Kelsey announced, raising the magnifying glass like it was a badge. “We’ve got a real mystery on our hands. Someone—” she paused dramatically, pointing to Emma “—has either pooped Emma’s diaper, or a certain other someone filed a false report about a certain wet and poopy diaper tapes around her waist. And we’re not leaving this room until we get to the bottom of it!” The room erupted in giggles. Even Miss Danielle, who was usually the picture of professionalism, was struggling to suppress a smile. Tessa, leaning against a nearby table, clapped her hands lightly. “This is better than storytime,” she said. Emma crossed her arms, glaring at Kelsey. “I didn’t file a false report! I just… didn’t have all the facts, okay?” The Plot Twist Kelsey ignored her, turning to the toddlers. “Alright, kids,” she said, crouching down. “Detective Kelsey needs your help. We’ve got a mystery to solve. Did anyone see anything suspicious? Maybe someone sneaking into Emma’s diaper?” A little boy named Milo raised his hand eagerly. “Emma stinky!” he declared. Emma slapped her forehead. “Thanks, Milo. Very helpful.” Kelsey nodded solemnly. “Thank you, young man. Your keen observational skills have been noted.” Miss Danielle stepped forward, arms crossed but a smile playing on her lips. “Detective Kelsey,” she said in a mock-serious tone, “do you have any suspects?” Kelsey stood up and spun around dramatically, pointing her magnifying glass at Emma. “As a matter of fact, I do. The evidence points to only one person.” Emma took a step back, holding up her hands. “Oh, no. Don’t even—” “It’s YOU, Bunny!” Kelsey declared, her voice echoing through the playroom. “You’re the prime suspect in the Case of the Wet and Poopy Diaper!” The toddlers gasped audibly, their little hands covering their mouths as if they were part of a courtroom drama. Emma, meanwhile, buried her face in her hands, muttering, “This cannot be happening.” The Interrogation Kelsey pulled out one of the tiny toddler chairs and placed it in front of the changing table. “Take a seat, Bunny,” she said, gesturing grandly. Emma hesitated. “You’re not serious.” “Oh, I’m very serious,” Kelsey replied, her tone dripping with mock gravity. “You’ve been accused of filing a false report. Now sit down, or I’ll have to call in backup.” “Backup?” Emma repeated incredulously. “What backup?” Kelsey turned to Tessa and Miss Danielle, raising her eyebrows. “Ladies, care to assist?” Tessa clapped her hands gleefully. “Oh, absolutely.” Miss Danielle chuckled. “I think we’re all invested in seeing how this plays out.” Emma groaned loudly but reluctantly sat down on the toddler chair with a squish that made her wince, her knees awkwardly bent and her face still burning. “Fine,” she muttered. “But I want it on record that this is ridiculous.” “Noted,” Kelsey said, pretending to jot something down in an imaginary notebook. “Now then, let’s get started. Where were you at approximately snack time today?” Emma blinked. “Snack time? I was here. In daycare. Where else would I be?” Kelsey nodded thoughtfully, pacing back and forth in front of Emma like a detective grilling a suspect. “And what were you doing?” “I don’t know,” Emma said, throwing up her hands. “Playing with blocks and wistfully remembering when I was a normal adult, probably?” Kelsey raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. And during this block-playing session, did you notice anything… unusual?” Emma glared at her. “Aside from this conversation? No.” Kelsey leaned in closer, narrowing her eyes. “Did you, or did you not, feel a certain… squishiness at any point during snack time?” Emma’s jaw dropped. “I am not answering that!” “Oh, I think you just did,” Kelsey said, pointing dramatically. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have our confession!” All Parties Heard From The toddlers giggled uncontrollably as Kelsey spun around to face them. “Alright, kids,” she said. “You’ve heard the suspect’s testimony. But do we believe her?” “Nooo!” they chorused, laughing and pointing at Emma. Emma groaned, slumping in the tiny chair. “You’re all traitors,” she muttered under her breath. Tessa stepped forward, pretending to examine Emma with a critical eye. “Detective Kelsey, I have to say, the evidence is pretty compelling.” Miss Danielle nodded. “It’s an open-and-shut case, if you ask me.” Kelsey turned back to Emma, crossing her arms. “Bunny,” she said, her tone suddenly serious, “I need you to come clean. The more you deny it, the worse it’s going to look.” Emma glared at her. “I’m not denying anything! I just… I didn’t know, okay? It’s not like I have a diaper radar or something.” Kelsey leaned in, her face mere inches from Emma’s. “So, you’re saying the diaper just… magically filled itself?” Emma hesitated, realizing too late that she’d backed herself into a corner. “I mean… maybe?” Kelsey straightened up, shaking her head. “Bunny, Bunny, Bunny,” she said with exaggerated disappointment. “Lying to a detective? That’s a serious offense.” The Final Confession By now, the entire daycare was in stitches. Even Emma couldn’t suppress a smile, though she tried to hide it by biting her lip. Kelsey, ever the performer, wasn’t about to let up. “I’m giving you one last chance, Bunny,” she said, pulling out the magnifying glass again. “Did you, or did you not, wet and poop this diaper?” Emma looked at the toddlers, at Tessa and Miss Danielle, and finally back at Kelsey. Her face was still beet red, but there was a twinkle of reluctant amusement in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, throwing up her hands. “I did it! It was me! I wet the diaper, and I pooped it too. Are you happy now?” The room erupted in cheers, the toddlers clapping and laughing as if they’d just witnessed the conclusion of an epic courtroom drama. Kelsey grinned, tucking the magnifying glass into her pocket. “Case closed,” she said triumphantly. “Detective Kelsey always gets her Bunny.” Emma groaned, hiding her face in her hands again. “You’re the worst,” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her true feelings. Part 4: The Arrest and Trial of Emma Bunny The room had returned to its usual hum of daycare activity, but Emma lay flat on the changing on the changing table, the strap buckled over her chest like a defendant shackled for trial. She crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks still pink from the ridiculous spectacle Kelsey had orchestrated. Kelsey, however, was just getting started. With an exaggerated flourish, she pulled a toddler-sized chair over to sit beside the changing table. She stood on it, holding her imaginary notebook in one hand and the toy magnifying glass in the other. “All rise!” Kelsey announced in a dramatic voice, her tone echoing that of a stern courtroom judge. She cast a mock glare at Emma, whose jaw dropped. “You’re kidding,” Emma said, her blush deepening. Kelsey ignored her, pounding on the side of the changing table like a judge’s gavel. “We’re now in session to determine the guilt—or, let’s face it, the obvious guilt—of one Emma Bunny.” Emma groaned, covering her face. “I confessed! This is so unnecessary,” she mumbled through her hands. Kelsey grinned. “The court disagrees. Let the trial begin!” Presenting the Evidence Kelsey stood up, circling the changing table as though addressing an invisible jury. “Ladies, gentlemen, and toddlers,” she began, her voice filled with dramatic flair. “We have before us a diaper—no, a crime scene—that is soaked, squishy, and suspicious. But that is not the crime we are hear for today. No, we are hear because this defendant is accused of filing a false report of tampered pampers. Let’s review the evidence, shall we?” Emma peeked through her fingers, already cringing. “Kelsey…” “Exhibit A!” Kelsey announced, pointing to Emma’s diaper. “The wetness levels. Unprecedented. Saturation like this doesn’t just happen, folks. It takes determination. Guts. And, dare I say it, juice boxes.” The toddlers giggled from their spots nearby, clearly loving every second of this. Emma, however, was sinking further into the changing table. “Exhibit B!” Kelsey continued, holding up an imaginary document. “The poopy part. Experts—aka me—have confirmed traces of applesauce and carrots. Classic daycare lunch items.” Emma groaned. “Why do you have to say it like that?” “And finally,” Kelsey said, leaning in close to Emma with a playful smirk, “Exhibit 😄 a full confession from the accused.” Emma sat up, pointing a finger at Kelsey. “You interrogated me! That confession doesn’t count.” Kelsey raised an eyebrow. “Objection overruled.” Emma threw her hands up in defeat. “This is ridiculous.” The Sentencing Kelsey turned back to the imaginary jury, her tone suddenly solemn. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve heard the evidence. We’ve seen the crime scene. And we’ve heard the accused’s very own words. There’s only one verdict that makes sense.” She paused dramatically, pointing at Emma. “Emma Bunny, you are hereby sentenced to the title of… Poopy Diaper Princess!” The toddlers erupted in laughter, clapping and pointing at Emma as she covered her face in both hands. “Oh my gosh, Kelsey, why?” she whined, her voice muffled. Kelsey ignored her, pulling out an imaginary crown and placing it on Emma’s head. “Your royal highness,” she said, bowing deeply. “May your reign be squishy and long.” Emma peeked out from behind her hands, glaring at Kelsey. “You are impossible.” “And yet,” Kelsey said, her grin widening, “you still love me.” Emma groaned but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe.” The Punishment Kelsey set the toy magnifying glass aside and climbed up onto the changing table beside Emma. “Alright, Bunny,” she said, her tone softening. “You’ve been sentenced. But every royal needs a little TLC, don’t you think?” Emma narrowed her eyes. “What are you planning?” “Oh, nothing much,” Kelsey said innocently, leaning closer. “Just this!” She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Emma and planting a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek. Emma squealed, trying to squirm away, but Kelsey held on tight. “Stop it!” Emma cried, though the giggle bubbling up in her throat betrayed her. Kelsey grinned, pulling back just enough to wiggle her fingers in front of Emma’s face. “Tickle monster is coming!” she teased. “No, no, no!” Emma protested, laughing uncontrollably as Kelsey’s fingers found her sides. She squirmed and giggled, her attempts to escape half-hearted at best. “Admit it,” Kelsey said between tickles. “You’re the best Poopy Diaper Princess there ever was!” “Never!” Emma gasped, her laughter ringing through the playroom. Kelsey relented after a few more moments, letting Emma catch her breath. Emma sighed heavily, leaning against Kelsey’s shoulder as the giggles subsided. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmured. “And you love me for it,” Kelsey replied, wrapping an arm around Emma’s shoulders. Emma didn’t respond right away, letting herself relax into Kelsey’s embrace. She felt safe, warm, and oddly comforted despite the embarrassing spectacle. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I do.” Kelsey pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Emma’s head. “Good,” she said. “Now, my little Bunny, let’s get you changed before your royal doodies overwhelm the kingdom.” Part 5: Aftermath Emma lay on the changing table, her cheeks still pink from all the teasing and laughter. Kelsey, ever the performer, stood beside her, snapping a fresh pair of gloves onto her hands with the exaggerated air of a surgeon about to perform a life-saving procedure. “Alright, Bunny,” Kelsey said, picking up a pack of wipes and holding it up like it was a magic wand. “Let the official cleanup commence. We’re about to restore law and order to this chaotic diaper situation.” Emma groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Kels, can’t you just… do it quietly? Like a normal person?” “Quietly?” Kelsey repeated, feigning shock. “Bunny, where’s the fun in that? If you’re going to commit crimes against your pampers, you’ve got to be ready to face the music.” Narrating the Cleanup Kelsey opened the diaper with the theatrical flair of someone opening a treasure chest. “Oh my,” she said, pretending to gasp. “It’s worse than I thought. We’ve got a Code Brown, ladies and gentlemen.” Emma groaned loudly, her hands flying back up to cover her face. “Kelsey, stop! You’re going to scar me for life.” Kelsey ignored her, holding up a wipe like it was a forensic tool. “Time to neutralize the evidence,” she announced. “We’ll start with the perimeter. Standard cleanup procedure, of course.” She narrated each step as she worked, her tone a mix of mock professionalism and playful amusement. “Wipe one: initial contact. Wipe two: backup support. Wipe three: the unsung hero, taking care of those hard-to-reach places.” Emma couldn’t help but laugh despite herself, her giggles muffled by her hands. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re adorable,” Kelsey shot back, grinning as she tossed the used wipes into the nearby bin. “Now, let’s address the… ahem… squishy situation.” She lifted Emma’s legs gently, sliding the soiled diaper out from under her and folding it up with practiced ease. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, holding up the rolled diaper, “we’ve officially neutralized the crime scene.” Emma peeked out again, her cheeks still flushed. “Can we not call it a crime scene?” “But Bunny, that’s exactly what it was,” Kelsey teased, grabbing the fresh diaper from the shelf. “And now, justice will be served. Or in this case, taped securely.” Fresh and Clean Kelsey unfolded the new diaper with a dramatic flourish, shaking it out like she was prepping a parachute. “Here we go,” she said, sliding it under Emma with care. “The fresh start every Poopy Diaper Princess deserves.” Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re never letting that title go, are you?” “Not a chance,” Kelsey replied, grinning as she secured the first tape. “You earned it fair and square.” She fastened the second tape with a satisfying pat, then gave the front of the diaper a playful tap. “And there we have it, folks! A fresh, clean Bunny, ready to take on the world—or at least survive until nap time.” Emma sat up, adjusting her sweatshirt to cover the top of her diaper. “Thanks, Kels,” she said softly, her blush fading as the warmth of Kelsey’s care replaced her earlier embarrassment. Words of Reassurance Kelsey crouched down to Emma’s eye level, her expression turning gentle. “Bunny,” she said, brushing a stray strand of red hair out of Emma’s face, “I want you to remember something, okay?” Emma tilted her head, curious. “What?” “You can always come to me,” Kelsey said, her voice warm and steady. “Whether it’s a soaked diaper, a poopy one, or even just a bad day. You don’t have to be scared or embarrassed. I’m always here to help.” Emma’s eyes softened, and she felt a lump form in her throat. “Even if it’s, like, a lot?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Kelsey chuckled, pulling Emma into a hug. “Even if it’s a lot,” she said. “Especially if it’s a lot.” Emma sighed, leaning into Kelsey’s embrace. She felt safe, like she could let go of all her worries and just be herself. “Thanks, Kels,” she murmured. “Always, Bunny,” Kelsey replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Emma’s head. “Now, let’s get you ready for nap time.” Nap Time Kelsey led Emma over to the nap mats, where the toddlers were already settling in. She grabbed Emma’s favorite blanket from her cubby—a soft, worn pink one with little stars embroidered along the edges—and tucked it around her. Emma lay down with a content sigh, the fresh diaper crinkling softly as she shifted. Kelsey crouched beside her, smoothing the blanket and giving her a reassuring smile. “Sweet dreams, Poopy Diaper Princess,” Kelsey teased, her voice barely above a whisper. Emma groaned, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?” “Not a chance,” Kelsey replied, brushing her fingers lightly against Emma’s cheek. “Now get some rest. You’ve had a busy day solving mysteries.” Emma closed her eyes, a small smile lingering on her lips as she drifted off. And for the first time that day, she didn’t feel embarrassed. She just felt loved. _______________________ I'm going to start posting more stories about Emma and Kelsey on my Ream or SubStar!

Just a short story I posted on FA a while back. I am currently writing another story in this world, so we'll see where that goes, but for now ... ----------- ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED 18+ Best Day - An ABDL Story I lay in my crib, my eyelids heavy. Above me lies a sea of glow-in-the-dark stars, floating out of reach in the morning light. My nappy is thick around my thighs, my legs separated, pushed apart by the damp padding. It’s quiet, mostly, except for the sound of Daddy downstairs, making breakfast. The smell of warm porridge floats upstairs, under my door, and into my room, and my mouth begins to water. Food soon–it’s a big day ahead, and if I’m going to make the most of it, I need to be ready. I realise I don’t have my dummy, it must have fallen out in my sleep. Groggily, I turn over onto my belly, and come face-to-face with my dummy, it’s rubber nipple touching my nosie. I giggle a little, and suck the nipple until it wiggles it’s way back into my mouth again. Sucky sucky. I need to go wee wee, I can feel it in my tummy. But before I can stop or hold back, my nappy grows warm again, as fresh wetness is added. I could only just about press my legs together before, but it is impossible now. The nappy has soaked my little accident, and it feels so good. I moan happily, alone in my room, and wriggle about against the bed in my very soggy nappy. “Hey there, little one.” I hear, and stop wriggling. My door creaks open, and Daddy is there, standing in the light of the morning sun. “Is someone being a naughty little boy?” he walks over to my crib, and leans against it. He looks down tenderly at me, a little smile on his face. I grow all embarrassed, my face flushed and hot. “No!” I insist, through my dummy, “I a goowd boy!” “Well, my little stinkybutt, we’ve got a busy day ahead, haven’t we? We need to get ready.” I groan. “Can I shtay in bed a wittle wonger?” I ask, but daddy shakes his head. “It’s breakfast time now, and by the looks of it we still need to change your nappy, and get you dressed for the park.” “Is Wosie still coming?” I ask, and daddy smiles again. “She sure is. Think you want to have breakfast now?” he smirks, and I nod with a newfound energy. Daddy releases the side of my crib and helps me out of bed. I tail him with a waddle, comfortable in my onesie and thick night-time nappy, and follow him downstairs into the kitchen, where the smell of hot porridge and honey meets me. My dummy is taken away, and placed on the counter. I sniff the sweet smelling food, even as I’m helped into my colourful wooden high-chair, and my stomach grumbles. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until now. Once I’m in my chair, Daddy sits across from me. He scoops up some porridge and zig zags the spoon toward my waiting mouth. I focus, ready to eat. “Neeeeoooowww,” Daddy says, mimicking an engine, “Here comes the aeroplane!” I open my mouth wide. The spoon comes at me quick. I’ve done this many times before, every day for twenty six years, but I always seem to miss. Daddy zags at the last minute, just as I go in for the bite. Porridge gets all over my mouth and my onesie. “Oh dear, I should have got you a bib, shouldn’t I?” daddy grins slyly, and I know he’s done it deliberately, surely I’m not that messy? A bib is quickly attached around my neck and I am given free reign over the spoon. The porridge is good porridge, sweet and filling, warm and gooey. Excited to get to the park, and see Rosie, I eat quickly and get a lot down me, but that’s what the bib is for, all that is expected of me–I can’t be trusted to eat sensibly after all. My face is a smeary mess of oat and honey. After I’ve had my fill, savouring the sweet taste of honey, Daddy comes and cleans me up a little. Without warning, he reaches down and squeezes my nappy, and I groan. “Mmmm.” he mumbles. Unsatisfied, he reaches around one of the leg-holes, pokes his finger inside my damp padding. “Yep, you’re soaked. Okay stinkybutt, time for changies.” And he lifts me out of my chair. My mind wanders to the day ahead, to the park, to Rosie, as I’m led into the bright living room. A mat is spread out, plastic and crinkly, and Daddy makes me lie down. “Daddy,” I ask as he snaps open my onesie, “Will Rosie’s daddy be there too?” “He sure will, Dan’s going to be talking with me, while our little babies play.” Daddy says as he enters the routine of morning changes. I see him blush a little. Daddy is the best, taking me to play with Rosie at the park, but I know he isn’t going just for me. I wonder sometimes why he doesn’t tell Dan how he feels, but I never ask him. It’s not my job to worry about such things. Daddy would definitely say the same. I’m too little right now to worry about that. He tears open the sides of my nappy, and hums a song–he does it whenever he’s excited. “What a soggy baby you are.” Daddy says. I look down at the yellowed padding, as air hits my bare waist. The inside is swollen with a night and morning wettings (and maybe a little bit of wee from before bed as well). Daddy says “Well, let’s get you freshened up.” And he begins to wipe my bottom and privates with a wet-wipe that’s cold against my skin. As Daddy changes me I day-dream about the park. I think about the twizzly red slide and how much fun it is to race down it. I think about the climbing frame, and how my nappy swings below me as I climb from bar to bar. I think, eagerly, about the sandbox, my absolute favoritest part of the whole entire park. Crawling about in the sand makes me feel so little, and making sandcastles and shifting sand about, and playing with my plastic car. “Woah there stinkybutt,” Daddy says, holding my legs still, “A little less wriggling please.” “Sowwy daddy.” I say, and try to contain my excitement as much as I can, as difficult as it is, and stop my legs moving. Without a word, Daddy lifts my legs, and knowing what’s next, I help by raising my bottom off the ground. A fresh nappy, all crinkly and soft, is slid under me, along with a generous sprinkle of powder. I suspect Daddy won’t want to change me at the park if he doesn’t have to, not that babies like me can help it of course. He’ll likely just leave me in my wet nappy for longer. I smile up to Daddy and he beams back. A fresh onesie comes next. It’s blue with a green t-rex on the front. “Arms up!” Daddy says and I obey, letting him slide it on me, and pull it around my fresh nappy. Then my dungarees. “Hop in!” Daddy says, and I obey, climbing into the jeans leg-by-leg, and leaning on Daddy’s shoulders for support. He snaps the buttons underneath my crotch together, checks the back is secure, and gives my padded bottom a firm pat. “What a cute butt you have.” he says, and I feel my face grow hot again. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t do that, especially not in public. Yet, a part of me, deep down, wishes he’d do it more. I was very cute after all. If Daddy says so, it must be true! I am allowed to play in the living room with my toy car for a bit whilst Daddy packs, and makes sandwiches. “Jam please!” I say and he chuckles warmly, spreading far too much jam into my sandwich. When he’s finished I am given my dummy back, and we climb into the car. Daddy straps me into a big carseat, and I am given my fluffy teddy backpack to hold, and I put my red car inside it, whilst Daddy places a big bag with spare changes in the back of the car. Then, we are off. The park we were going to was through town, too far to walk, but close enough so it’s not a long journey. As we drive, my mind wanders absentmindedly to the road around me and all the cars. “Look, daddy! There’s a red one!” I point as it drives past. It matches the little red car I have in my bag. “Good boy!” Daddy says, keeping his eye on the road, “I bet you can’t count how many red cars you see?” “I can!” I insist, “I can count them all the way up to ten!” “Wow, that’s such a big number, I’m not sure you can count that high. You’ll have to show me you can.” I begin counting immediately. “1, 2…” I quickly find the stop-start of the traffic soothing enough that my eyelids grow heavy. It had been a really early start. Perhaps, if I just take a quick nap… “Alex… we’re here kiddo.” Daddy coos gently from the front of the car. Slowly, I open my eyes and begin to rub the sleep out of them. “It’s time to wake up Alex.” “I’m awake Daddy.” I say as I hear the crunch of stones beneath the car. “How many cars did I count?” “Oh, you got up to five! You were half-way there, kiddo.” he says and I grin broadly behind a big yawn. I’m getting good at counting. “Dan says he and Rosie are already here sweetie, see if you can find them while I park.” Immediately I jump up in my seat, suddenly more awake, and a lot more exited. I feel my waist grow a little warm, and realise that my excitement must have made me pee a little, but that’s what my protection is for, after all. I search the car park for Rosie and Dan. As we bump across the uneven surface, I scan each and every car until– “There they are!” I say and point to a man and woman about my age. Dan is tall, taller than Daddy, and his white t-shirt makes him bright in the summer sun. He has a back-pack on, and what looks like a heavy bag at his side, no doubt full of nappy supplies. Rosie, in her denim dungaree-skirt almost matches me, except her shirt is pink and not green. I wave at them as we pass, and they spot us and wave back. Rosie jumps up and down in the air, almost matching my energy. Daddy turns around and parks up next to them. Rosie is waiting impatiently as I leap out without thinking. “Alex!” she shouts back. Normally I’m not a fan of hugs, but for Rosie and Dan, I make an exception. We stay locked for a moment as our daddies greet eachother. “Do you want to go on the swings with me when we get there?” Rosie asks and I nod. “And the roundabout!” I say. “Hey Alex,” Dan says, towering over everyone. He ruffles my hair–I like it when he does that, it makes me feel all small and helpless. I shrink into myself shyly, quietly enjoying the attention. “Look at how tall you are! You must have grown loads since Rosie and I last saw you.” “Daddy says I haven’t.” I pout, “But I reckon I’ve grown a metre since then!” “Wow! A whole metre! I’m sure you have bud!” he ruffles my hair again. Suddenly I feel a tug from behind–Daddy has pulled back my dungarees and nappy. Without a word, he lets go and the elastic in my dungarees snaps back into place. “He’s a little wet, but I’m sure it’ll hold a little more.” “Rosie’s dry as a desert at the moment but…” their voices trail off as me and Rosie lead the way to the park. As we both walk slightly bow-legged from the thick (and already slightly damp) padding between our legs, we catch-up in the way that old friends do. Rosie tells me about their six-month visit to France, where they were helping Dan’s brother move house. “He had so much stuff!” Rosie says, hopping along beside me, “A bunch of old comics and books and things like that. She’s vastly more energetic than me, her excitement bubbling over into movement. I just grin and enjoy her company, and our daddies chatting idly behind us. “Uncle Will was showing me how to speak French too! You wanna hear?” “Sure!” I nod. “Jay sank grenools.” Rosie says it with the confidence of someone who definitely doesn’t know how to speak French. I hear our daddies chuckle from behind, their adult conversation quiet and distant, too important to interest me or Rosie. “That means ‘I have five frogs.’” Rosie says, beaming with pride. “Good girl!” Dan says, and gives her hair a ruffle like he did mine, and Rosie giggles. The park is busy when we arrive, with about twenty other people playing there, their minders sitting on benches at the side, chatting or watching. Most are older than me and Rosie, or about the same age, but almost all of them are dressed in the same infantile clothing. Some wear overalls or dungarees like us. One girl, who looks a little older than us, whizzes down the slide in a big fluffy tutu. Others wear only a t-shirt and nappy as they waddle around. Above us, clouds hover fluffy and white against a deep blue sky, stripes of shade and light move across the park as the clouds move ahead of the sun. There is a nice, cool breeze in the warm summer air. Me and Rosie look at eachother and grin, and almost escape our caretakers, before we’re both grabbed at the arm by Daddy. “Now, now,” Daddy says, spinning me back around. “Make sure you two behave yourselves.” he adjusts my clothing a little, and I can tell he’s giving me a quick nappy check. “Daaadddyyyy.” I protest, but he pulls my dungarees in place and makes sure they are fastened correctly, and finishes with a warm smile. “Boop.” he says, tapping my nose, and I can’t stop myself giggling. “There we are my love, ready to go play.” He gives my padded bottom a playful pat, and I’m off like a rocket. Me and Rosie spend the next hour in our own world. She spins me as fast as the roundabout goes, and I cling on to dear life as she runs beside it. After what feels like forever, I jump off and the world tumbles quickly around me. I reckon I must have peed a little more because when I fall all dizzily to the ground, I feel a squish. However, while my padded bottom survives, my unprotected hand scrapes across the ground. “Owie!” I say, tears building in my eyes, but Rosie knows what to do. She kisses my hand where the boo-boo is, and says: “That’s what my daddy does when I’m hurt, and he says it makes it all better.” And although it still hurts a little, it feels a little better now. We go to the slide, and I play a monster chasing Rosie up and down, and up and down. And then we switch roles, and she chases me, and I push myself down the slide to escape her. “Rawr!” she says with her arms in the air. “Ahhhh!” I half-scream-half-giggle madly. Our daddies talk idly as they push us on the swings. The bucket-swing is designed almost like a high-chair, and the seat comes up between my legs and around my waist as I’m lowered into it. My legs are spread apart, and my nappy is soft beneath me. I see the rush of ground beneath me, feel my stomach backflip as I fall back down toward Daddy and he pushes me back up. I look beside me, and Rosie is a blur of giggles. I look to the sky and feel like I’m flying as I almost reach the clouds, so high up, my feet dangling in the air. I feel so big, and so little. I feel so excited and completely at peace. I feel as if I am a part of the world, and have no power to stop whatever happens next, but I don’t mind. Daddy will be there to catch me if I fall. Eventually, as the park begins to empty, we make our way over to the sandbox. “Daddy,” I ask as he bends down to sit on the bench, “Can I have my car now?” Daddy gives a knowing look to Dan, who smiles back, as if they speak some silent language that I have no hope of understanding. “Well.” Daddy says, as he reaches into my bag, “Since you’ve been such a good boy today Alex, I suppose you can have it… Do you want to bring one over to Rosie as well?” I nod, and he pulls out two small plastic cars, red and blue. I take both and flop down into the sandbox, sending sand around me like dust. I ask Rosie which one she wants, and she takes a moment to decide. “Ummmm, the blue one!” she says eventually. We crawl about in the sandbox for what seems like hours. I feel the sand between my fingers as me and Rosie race our cars around the edge of the massive pit of sand. Some bright buckets and spades have been abandoned by many generations of visitors, and we use them to make sandcastles. “Here!” Rosie says, “I’ll hold the bucket while you put sand in.” She kneels beside the bucket and I nod, enthusiastically grabbing a spade and shovelling in sand. As we dig, Rosie’s gaze wanders over to her daddy. “Do you think they like eachother?” she asks. “Ummm, I think so.” I say, taking a break from digging to look over. They’re talking, laughing, their hands close to one another’s, so close to touching. “I think they both like each-other, but grown-ups don’t say what they want, they just pretend the other person can read their mind.” “Yeah.” Rosie agrees. “Grown-ups are silly. I really like being here with you Alex.” she smiles. I blush a little despite myself, and grin back. “Me too Rosie, I could do this forever and ever!” We go back to making our castles, and decide to make a wall and split the sandbox in half. One at a time, we fill up a bucket with sand, heave it over to the middle of the sandbox, and dump it in the centre. About half-way through, as Rosie squats down to pat on a bucket with her spade, she goes still. I see her face grow focused and turn red, and she grunts a little. After a little toot, I see the seat of her skirt grow ever-so-slightly. A final sigh reveals what she has done, and she falls back onto her bottom, and into the sand, as if nothing had happened at all. Almost in response, my own stomach cramps, but I ignore it. Why worry about something as silly as that? As I come over, she is patting on her bucket, whilst wriggling a little, a silly smile on her face. I toddle over in my soggy nappy, and flop down next to her. The smell hits my nose almost immediately, confirmation of the fresh mess Rosie has made, and I give her a knowing smile, trying not to laugh. “Hey, don’t be such a stinkybuttface!” she pouts and crosses her arms. “I’m not a stinkybuttface!” I protest, “You’re the one that’s just made a messy!” I can’t hold back a giggle, and neither can Rosie. We both fall into a fit of laughter as Little Miss Smelly and I return to our castle wall. Rosie and I shift sand, and fill buckets, and by the end of it, we’ve split the sandpit in half. I’m on one side, and she is on the other. But we’re not done yet. “Ready?” I ask as I stand ready. “Ready!” she says, and we both count down from three. “3, 2, 1!” we both say together, and jump as high as we can into the air, destroying the sandcastles as quick as we can. We jump from castle to castle, racing eachother to each end of the sandbox. But I don’t quite make it to the end. Suddenly, another cramp hits my stomach and I’m forced to stop and bend over, and fall into a squat. I know what’s about to come, and for a moment, I consider shouting for daddy. But, I know what he’d say: “Just use your nappy, that’s what it’s for.” So, I do just that. Without any more silly adult thoughts, I begin to push. I squeeze out a few farts before the main event. My poopie slowly moves out of me, I feel the end of it like a tail as it pushes against the back of my nappy. I push some more, grunting as the mess slowly fills my padded bottom, dropping into my seat. Quickly my nappy grows heavy. I pee a little too, the front of my nappy grows warm as it soaks up my wee, spreading across the front pleasantly. I look over to daddy, he’s talking in whispers with Dan, their faces close and smiling. But I haven’t quite finished going poopie. I glance over to daddy again, hoping he hasn’t seen me. Unfortunately, he has. I blush, and look away, determined to avoid his gaze as I finish my mess. I glance up again, and Daddy and Dan are on their way over, and I notice they’re holding hands. Daddy smiles broadly as he approaches. “Hey there stinkybutt, are you making a messy?” he says almost nonchalantly. “Nnnn,” I groan, “Noooo...” “Alex, what did we say about potty honesty?” He shoots me a look. I pause. “Are you making a poopie?” he repeats. Bashfully, I nod. “Have you finished?” “I … almost Daddy, nnnnn.” I push again and feel another little load drop into the seat of my dungarees. With a final toot, I say, “Ahhhh, I think I’m finished now.” “Good boy for being honest about making messies!” he ruffles my hair like Dan does, and I fall backwards onto a sandcastle, the sand squishing beneath with my fresh load. “Oh, I think we have another smelly bum over here!” Dan says, giving Rosie’s rear a sniff for confirmation. “Daaaaddddyyyyy…” Rosie blushes deep red, but I know she’s just as proud of her mess as I am of mine. “I think,” Daddy says, “It’s time for changies. Come on, let’s go back to the car.” “Awwwww.” Me and Rosie both deflate. We were having so much fun and now it looks like we’re going home. Even though I want more than anything to keep playing, it had been a long day. Even Daddy’s mention of the car makes me yawn deeply. “Come on.” Daddy says, patting me and Rosie on our mushy tooshies, “Let’s get you two stinky butts in some clean pants.” Me and Rosie hold hands, and hold our Daddies’ hands on either side, forming a chain as we make our way back to the car. Me and Rosie play about a little, dragging our heels, or jumping about, desperate to extend the day just a little bit more. But we arrive at the car all too quickly and suddenly the day has come to an end. “Lay down on the seat here.” Daddy instructs me, and Dan tells Rosie to do the same in their car, opposite. I lay down on a mat he’s spread out, and stare up at the fabric ceiling of the car, as Daddy unties my shoes, unzips my dungarees and takes them off, and exposes my dirty nappy to the world. From his bag, he pulls out wipes and a spare nappy. “Poooweee,” he says, and leans close. With a sly grin, he whispers in my ear, “Someone’s a stinky little boy.” And with that, he begins. Quickly, he tears off the tapes of my thoroughly used padding. He opens it up, revealing my messy bottom to everyone who would walk by. He takes out a wet-wipe, two, and I feel it’s cold touch against my skin for the second time today, as he wipes me down. Eventually, the dirty wipes are piled into my equally dirty nappy. “Bottom’s up.” he says and I raise myself off the mat so he can slide the nappy off and roll it up. In the car opposite, I see Dan finish cleaning Rosie, and he pulls her skirt down to cover her clean nappy. She hops out and watches as my change comes to an end. I see her smile through the gap, mirrored by Dan who stands with his hands on her shoulders. They watch me tenderly, and I feel suddenly sad, not knowing when I’ll see them again. Daddy sees me watching them. “You’ve been a very good boy today.” he says quietly, “And Rosie’s been a very good little girl.” he pauses. I frown as he slides a clean nappy under me, curious as to what he’ll say next. “Did you see me and Dan talking earlier?” he says eventually. “Yes Daddy. You were holding hands.” I smile, he blushes and looks away, and I smile even more, suspecting what they had been talking about. “Well, we were thinking … how would you like it if they came round for dinner? Tonight.” A broad grin creeps across my face. Almost without hesitation I nod excitedly, “Yes, yes!” “Haha, good!” Daddy does the last of the tapes on my nappy, tightening them up so my fresh padding is firm around my waist. He gives the front a pat. We all bundle into our respective cars, I am strapped back into my car seat, and I see Rosie shoot me one last glance from beyond her car’s window. She gets to sit in the front, next to Dan. Within moments, her car slides past ours, and drives away, and we follow. Sunlight sparkles through the trees alongside the road, and Daddy hums some tune I don’t know. I don’t really listen, and his humming becomes another noise in the car, but a noise of comfort, and safety, and love. I only suckle on my dummy, and lay quiet and still and thoughtful, as the car shakes beneath me. As I lay snuggly strapped into my car seat, I imagine tonight, and all the time with Rosie and Dan yet to come. I imagine Daddy and his smiling eyes. And I am truly, utterly, happy. THE END.

Jennifer Crowley is a promising young woman, brimming with intelligence but also not very imaginative when it comes to fantasy subjects. Little does she know that at the college she's going to her new dorm mate is a witch! Not just that however it seems this girl is absolutely evil with people she doesn't like...and Jennifer isn't well liked by her. So Jennifer now has to suffer under her new roommate...or her new mama. If you wanna do this roleplay hmu in chats or send a friend request to jemmolioni on discord! I'm desperate to roleplay so please give me a chance?

Hello everyone! Long time reader, first time writer. After reading so many fantasies I finally have a fantasy of my own I would like to share. I'm wanting to go a little more realistic with this story than most others so no magic, oversized baby furniture, or law breaking like public nudity (but we will toe this line.) So, I Hope you enjoy and appreciate any criticism as writing is not my forte as my spelling will prove. Prologue It was a terrible mistake. I just wanted to get into a little bit of trouble so my husband would punish me. We have a sadomasochistic relationship with me being the M. I can always ask for a spanking or say I wanted to be tied up, but if I really wanted to see his dominant side I would have to get in trouble and take my punishment. Last time he put me threw two weeks of pet play, weeks of being in the nude, crawling on all fours, not being able to speak unless it was animal noises, being spanked with a thick rolled up magazine and put in a cage when I got in more trouble, playing and doing my "business" in our backyard, and humping his leg to satisfy my urges. I loved it so much I wanted to do it again and more. The plan was simple. Friday night I would go to the local bar, get as drunk and as wild as could, and then call my poor husband who would be forced to stop what he was doing and collect his embracement of a wife. Everything was going so well with racking up a huge tab that was sure add even more punishment but the men at the bar couldn't help but notice a girl drinking herself stupid. My wedding band clearly wasn't deterring them, and neither was the cold shoulder, then they started offering more drinks which I declined. Nothing short of a roofie would get me to betray my husband, so tired of their attempts I decided to cut my loses and leave. With my mood fowled judgement now blinded alcohol I made the biggest mistake of my life and got into my car. I don't remember the drive, but I do remember blue and red lights shinning in my eyes. What happened was obvious, the car my husband gifted me was smashed into a tree, a stream of pee was running down my pants leg, and police didn't even need the breathalyzer to determine I was drunk enough to be arrested. It seems the only thing I did right was wear my seat belt which saved me from getting hurt. When I was finally allowed to call my husband from the jail mt heart was warmed hearing his friendly "Hello" when he answered the phone but suddenly froze as his voice went cold when I told him what happened. his response to everything was "Uh-huh", "Okay", and "I see." I could only imagine how upset he was at me, so I apologized and begged. I told him about bail and the trail that was in a couple of days, all he had to say was "I'll make sure things are taken care of." I was left feeling scared as to what that could mean. I spent the night in jail unable to sleep, I spent the next day waiting for my husband to bail me out, but he never did. My mind was racing with he might be doing, could he be planning to leave me? Is he talking to a divorce lawyer? He accepted me even though I'm a hardcore masochistic pervert, was a wife with a possible criminal record; a woman so foolish she would drive drunk too much? My trail finally came, and I felt awful. I hadn't changed my clothes since I'd been arrested, the urine on my jeans had long since dried but the smell remained, and I am being forced to stand before a judge looking and smelling like an adult failure. At this point I would hope for the death penalty if it meant ending this nightmare but the finally saw the one thing to bring the spark back in my heart, my husband was in the gallery. He still looked upset with me but the fact that he was here meant he hadn't abandoned me. I almost ran to him if my lawyer hadn't stopped me. I plead guilty to the DUI and waited for my sentencing; hoping to wouldn't be kept in jail too much longer, but to my surprise the judge took pity on me. He said that because this was my first offense, no one got hurt, and the only property that was damaged was my car and that poor tree that my sentence was a $600 fine. Even I had to admit that was a slap on the wrist, but I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. My husband took out his check book and with that this nightmare is over. When we finally left the courthouse and were safe from prying eyes, I grabbed my husband and cried into him apologizing and begging. Knowing I was rubbing my stink on to him only made me cry more but he just patted my head ignoring my oily hair. He whispered in my ear "Don't worry, you'll get your punishment when we get home." There was a sudden throb in my heart and my tears stopped. "Yes sir" I said arms behind my back and eyes pointed down. He opened the rear door of our SUV and told to get in. I did without question and found the seat had plastic over it. It seemed he heard about my pissy jeans and didn't want me to ruin our last remaining car. there were two bottles of water their too which I desperately needed after all the crying. I sat quietly watching out the window as I was being driven home wondering just what my husband had planned for me. When we finally got home my husband took my hand and lead me inside. Once the door was shut behind me, "Arms up." her ordered and I immediately reached for the ceiling. He pulled off my shirt and undid my bra, next he took off my shoes and went to work on my pants which practically had to be peeled off, the same with my panties. Once I was stark naked, he took my hand and led be to the shower. I was hosed off with warm water and lathered with soap; he was very gentle where a rash had formed on my thighs, for the first time since this disaster I felt clean. Once he was done toweling me off, he took my hand again and lead be to the living room. Now the part this was all for that I had been excited for but after all the trouble I caused I was honestly starting to fear for. He brough me to what we call The Discipline Chair; it was really nothing more than armless chair, he took his seat, and I draped myself over my lap and tried to resist moaning as he rubbed my butt. "You've really gotten into trouble this time." He said in a calm voice. "Yes Sir. Sorry Sir." I responded the same way I always do when my husband explains why I'm being punished. "You recked the nice car I gifted you." "Yes Sir. Sorry Sir." My response may have been robotic, but I really meant it. "I had to pay $600 to keep you out of jail." "Yes Sir. Sorry Sir." My punishment hadn't even started yet and there already tears forming in my eyes. "And you're going to pay me back, with a dollar a spanking?" "... yes Sir." I hesitated. 600 spankings were way more than I've ever been given in a single session. "Don't lose count." *SMACK!* "One! Thank you, Sir! May I please have another!" I responded the same way I always do when being spanked. *SMACK!* "Two! Thank you, Sir! May I please have another!" *SMACK!* "Three! Thank you, Sir! May I please have another!" *** *SMACK!* "100! Thank you, Sir! Mercy! Mercy! Please no more!" For the first time I used my safe word. 100 was already way more spankings than I had ever gotten in a single session. My butt was already burning hot enough to cook on, the pleasure stopped long ago, and I was only feeling pain, and my face was once again a mess with snot and tears. I did my best to power threw as I deserved this, but I couldn't handle more than 100 and I couldn't imagine another 500 more. My husband gently helped me up and clean my face with a tissue. "Go to your corner." "Yes Sir." I walked to what we called Shame Corner; a corner of the living room directly across from a window, I stood facing the corner, arms folded above my punished bottom in view of the window, unless you were trying to look through the window it was unlikely I could be seen but the humiliation was still there. this is where I always stand after my spankings, and I knew better than to move without being told. The wait felt longer than ever with the cold air slowly soothing my red ass. I could hear my husband setting something up behind me, but I fought the urge to peak. "Turn around." My husband ordered and I obeyed. I wasn't sure what I was looking but my husband was on his knees in front of a large blanket next to several packages and bottles. "Come here and lay down." I slowly walked over and laid down. My bottom was still sore as it pressed against the blanket, but I did my best to bare and keep my legs spread making sure he got a good look at my shaved pussy. "You're in a lot of trouble this time. You went out and got drunk, got in trouble with the police, you wet yourself, and you refused punishment." "I'm sorry sir." I could do nothing but agree as he reminded me what a failure I was. "That's not how an adult acts, is it?" " No Sir." "And because you can't act like an adult, I'm going to treat you like a baby and that means wearing diapers." "..." My eyes went wide. I couldn't tell if I heard that right. Before I could process what he just said my legs were lifted up." "Hold your legs." I immediately grabbed my knees and felt a sudden cold sensation on my burning rear. My husband began to rub lotion on my punished bottom and my rash. The pain gradually went down to a more tolerable level and felt my masochist side come out as my privates began to tingle. My legs were lowered, my crouch powered, and the diaper shut. My husband got up and took a moment to admire his work before taking my hand and raised to my feet. He then walked me to a full-length mirror; more like a waddle with how much the thick diaper kept my legs apart and had me stand in front of it. I also took time to see my new look. I few years younger than my husband and a couple years younger but not we looked nothing like husband and wife but more like a man and his oversized baby girl. "What do you see?" He asked. "A baby." I answered. "Do babies stand on their two legs?" "No Sir." I took a moment to think about what he was saying before lowering myself on all fours and looked up at him. I felt my pussy drip as I myself back in the same position as our pet play. "Do babies call their man sir?" "No..." I needed a second to think, "... Daddy" He smiled in approval at that answer. "Is baby hungry?" "Yes Daddy." I haven't eaten since yesterday and I wasn't happy with the jail food. He grabbed a baby bottle full of a white liquid and held it front of his crouch. I stared for a moment before putting the nipple in my mouth and hungrily drank it down. I couldn't tell what it is but it tasted very sweet. Once the bottle was empty my husband pushed his pants down and placed the head of his cock my lips. Once again. I didn't wait and took his precious member my mouth. The taste of meat and the smell of his manhood sent me into a state of arousal as I sucked harder to have his cream. "Good girl." My husband/daddy said with a moan. A few minutes of this and his seed shot into my mouth. I swirled it around my mouth with my tongue be gulping it. I opened my mouth showing that I had swallowed it all as my husband/daddy looked down on me with a smile. "Follow me." He said before walking off and I crawled after him towards the bedrooms. He stopped not at our bedroom but one of the guest beds next to it. When he opened the door, I could now see what he had been busy with while I was in jail. The once simple bedroom had been converted to what looked like a nursery. Stuffed animals were everywhere, some were small, others were quite huge. The biggest was a bear almost the size of me. The shelves were packed full of thick diapers. The was a chair similar to The Discipline Chair. Against the wall was a single bed surrounded by wooden bars. My husband/daddy walked inside towards the bed, and I crawled after him. He lowered the bars of the bed and lifted me and placed me in the bed before raising the bars back up. "Get out of your crib." He ordered. I grabbed the bars and lowering them down was easy enough and I crawled back out of the bed. Husband/Daddy immediately spanked me, and the room filled with the sound of a loud POOF, the padding from the diaper protected me from most of the blow but still hurt my sore bottom. I was placed back into the bed and the bars raised back up. "Get out of your crib." He repeated. This time I only rattled the bars but stayed put. "Good girl," he approved "Now go to sleep and stay in your crib. I'll let you out in the morning." For the first time since we've been married, we slept in separate rooms, but he did leave me with a baby monitor that seemed to work both ways and listening to sounds of him going to sleep relaxed me enough to go to sleep.

This is story is based on a true story, with some flourishes for artistic freedom. It’s been a while since I posted here and I felt like one more little short story wouldn’t hurt. That said, there is no continuation for this story, but I hope you enjoy. Elise was an ABDL. No sugar coating it, no beating around the bush. Elise was and adult, baby, diaper, lover. From her mid teens dreaming of fluffy clouds wrapping around her midsection, to her escapades with the opposite sex in college, to her adult life indulging in her fetish, there was no doubt in her mind what she was. The whole of the scene had intrigued her and not once had she had a “purge” of her desires and through her experimentation she had found comfort in being a switch. While she would have loved to be spoiled rotten and doted on by a six foot seven millionaire with a fully stocked nursery, the baby boys too whittle to take care of themselves often called to her. But alas, the timing was too poor and she had neither to call her own. So her fantasies would remain in her head, only able to poorly practice one side until she found that fated person. Her age, height, weight, and hair color were all average, or above average. Truly whatever you wish to imagine for Elise can be your very own perception of her. What truly matters is what she wished for on the day of this tale. “Can she be a tall Amazonian woman, with a deep tan, and a certified sixpack?” Yes, of course. Feel as entertained as you want. Make her tall, short, skinny, pudgy, white, black, purple… well maybe not purple. We want some realism in this story after all. As the preface said, it is based on a true story. No need to get ourselves too worked up. Anyways, it was a day like any other, where a mundane activity was turned to a leap in fantasy. This is where we find ourselves on Elise’s most recent advancement in the world of oversized diapers and upscaled pastels. You see, Elise was a working woman, and one that was given the immense luxury of working from home. The only problem with that being the few times she needed to drive into the office. She cursed under her breath as she drove into work to deal with a problem that really could have been handled remotely, and she doubly cursed as she drove home only a few hours later, but then something completely inane to most, happened to the adult baby. The gurgle in her stomach told her that a immense bowel movement was not far off from her expected arrival time home. That bathroom break that every adult dreaded while on the highway was something most diaper afficianatoes could replace with a much more pleasurable experience. And so a plan began forming in the young woman’s mind. Potty training be damned, Elise was going to enjoy the sweet sensation of a muddy, messy, poopy, stinky, smelly, full, brown, blasted, shit filled diaper. But alas, dear reader, Elise had experienced messy diapers before. “This story was something special, right? A short story about something many of us have experienced already? How could that be intriguing? I feel a bit betrayed, author.” Not to worry, my fellow kinky friend, for Elise was about to experience not just any messy diaper, but one that many of us strive for. Allow me to clarify. How many of us adult babies have found ourselves in this situation? We get all wrapped up in that fluffy goodness, talcum powder galore, with maybe a bottle, or paci, or blanky, or even God forbid a teddy bear witness. Then we go through the motions of however we play only for the gurgle to get right to the point we feel the need to go and we push. We cramp and squirm, squat and fill… only to feel a measly pittance sit neatly upon the fluff around our bottoms. “Why, yes.” I hear you murmur, “That is afterall what a baby would do. Fill our seats with mush and mash without a care in the world.” Now dear reader, this realism you seek is commendable. You are a true actor enjoying the purity of their craft… but realism is not a truly what lies at the heart of this community. Nay, our imagination not only wants us to play the part of our simpler selves, but to expand upon it. To live not truly as babies would, but as adult babies would. This is what Elise wanted. What she craved. She wanted not just a messy diaper, but THE messy diaper. And so off to the store she went. An adult she still was, and gurgling stomache or not, groceries would not appear stocked in her shelves. So through the cramps and the ominous growls of her intestines she made her way down the isles. She then made her purchase and “Went straight home to diaper herself!” Dear reader. These imaginary outbursts from you simply must stop. There is an order to this story that must be respected. “I’m sorry, author. It won’t happen again.” Thank you, reader. Your apology means alot. While many of us in the community identify as brats, I can’t continue this story if I keep imagining you interrupting. Now, to the rest of the story. Elise made her purchase and drove home. It was not the end of the work day yet, so after settling down to her home office, she began the dull work of catching up on emails and small pieces of work while occasionally fighting the urge to head to the bathroom. You see, Elise had tried this before. Wait until the swirling mass of mess inside was ready to burst into the welcoming padding below, only for a slip in mindset to let her potty training take advantage of her. “She’s an ABDL. Just wear the diaper and go whenever.” Ah, but here in lies the problem. Elise wasn’t just a diaper lover, she was a diaper LOVER. The soft feeling around her bottom, the elastic hug around her tummy, the way the folds pushed against her special place, the smell of powder, the crinkle of plastic, the happy decorations, the smell, the feel, the sound! It was all too much for Elise. Wearing a diaper meant that any other task was moot. Waiting for the cramps to reach a crescendo while the poof below her kissed her so tenderly was not an option. So she baited her time waiting until the physical pain was too much. Hitting send on another email she doubled over this time. Smiling to herself, she could already feel her breath was hot, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were already on the closet that hid herself from the rest of the world. Opening the door she shivered at the sight. Diapers, onesies, bottles, powder, changing pads, pacis, rompers, and all manner of padding lay before her. Reaching down she opened the new package and took a wif of her prize. The Little Kings diaper was a stark contrast to her usual. Elise was a fan of the crinkle that came from the soft plastic casing of Tykables diapers, but something about the model images for little kings had her jumping out of her comfort zone. The way it’s waistband hugged her tummy, the way it puffed out at the crotch, the legbands being so pronounced, but the real reason was the photo from behind. Elise had stared for ages at the models rear shot. The puffiness of the Little Kings diaper sagged down almost begging for a thick, mushy mess to be deposited into it. Quickly moving over to the bed as another cramp wracked her abdomen, Elise quickly unfolded her changing matt before prepping the diaper. Unfurl it and push it flat, give it a shake, smoosh and curl it around to loosen the stuffing, and then finally fanning it out. The poor thing that had once been so flat rose up like bread in the oven ready to cup and caress the girls most tender areas. A sprinkle of baby powder was all she afforded. This diaper would not last long. Sitting down on top, she wiggled her bottom in delicious anticipation before slowly raising the front up over her princess parts and onto her stomach. Even without the taps Elise could already feel the diaper take hold of her. Almost like a mind of its own as it wontly conformed to her body, ready to protect her from any “accidents” while she play and romp around. Being careful, Elise tugged at the taps on the sides, making sure that everything was snug. Diaper blowouts are for naughty littles. Good girls made their messes in their diapies and only their diapies. The last tap in place, Elise sighed. Her hands reached down to rub the padding slowly against her lips. The sweet kiss of a Little King was so different from her usual that a faint hint of embarrassment reddened her cheeks. Cheating on her lover with royalty no less. Scandalous. What’s more is that she thoroughly planned on ruining the would be ruler. Use and abuse him and leave him an absolute mess. What a naughty girl Elise had turned out to be after all. “Did she get into a squat to do it, or stay laying on her back? Maybe she layed on her stomach drinking from her baba as she pushed her stinkies into her diapie.” No, no dear reader, Elise may be an adult baby, but she was no dum-dum. Preparations had merely begun. Elise stood up and admired her figure. Just like the models! The legbands, waist, crotch and (most importantly) bottom all had that signature look of a toddler unable to master the dreaded potty training. With a skip of glee she made her way to the kitchen. The gurgles had intensified once again and Elise knew she was running out of time, but as she let go a stream into her diaper, she realized her number 1 paled i comparison to what she was expecting for her number 2. No, this would not do at all. The small warmth that had blossomed to the size of a softball around her bottom was an insult to the diaper she wished to achieve, so sacrifices must be made. A lemonade pitcher would be the perfect tool. Ensuring the stream from the faucet was not too hot or not too cold, Elise placed one hand under the water and the other on her diaper. Once satisfied with the temperature, Elise then filled the pitcher up. Each second that ticked by rose the water level in the container she held. With glee she imagined the final destination of each and every drop. Turning off the faucet, Elise got into position. Legs wide apart she slowly opened up the back waistband of the diaper like a caretaker checking for the soon to be mess. In the water went, slowly warming her bottom as the diaper swelled with liquid. Next came the front, and the back to the back, and finally the front once more. The lemonade pitcher now sat empty on the shelf as each and every inch of padded wrapped around the girl’s bottom was saturated. She grabbed the crotch, and then she grabbed the rear. Pushing in, Elise had to stifle a moan as the padding smooshed against her skin. This feeling (while cheating a bit with water) meant that she was truly halfway. The soaked padding hung ominously down from her hips as she swayed back and forth, enjoying the feeling of the diaper swaying between her legs. “Now…” No. Elise then made her way back to the bedroom, waddling the entire way from the enhanced bulk. Giggling to herself as she toddled along she looked back into the closet. One at a time she pulled out what she needed. Laying it all on the bed she admired what she had found to be the perfect assortment to get her into the right headspace. You see dear reader, babies are encouraged to expand their movement. Diaper commercials will constantly show little ones on the move and brag about their own products ability to handle active babies. But we are not babies, dear reader. We are adult babies. Our muscles and coordination are fully developed. Simply crawling on the floor and acting helpless is fine, but what Elise sought wasn’t an act. First was a pair of pink princess training panties. Only slightly thicker that big girl undies, these would never be able to contain the mess Elise had in mind, but they would hold the little king in place. And so ironically, the now full, and soon to be messy diaper now had the added support and bulk of panties only meant to be used for the smallest of accidents. Next came the bulk. A full blue sheep omatsu diaper. The cloth diaper is something desired by many in the community. Much more environmentally friendly and not many will argue with the softness, but there was something all millennial adult babies feel about the crinkle of disposables that our parents put us in all those years ago. However, ABDL companies can’t very well make the truly bulky diapers many of us crave that still has the disposability we want. Thus, the thick overnight cloth diaper with pins was wrapped around the Little Kings, training pants combo. Next, a humble dinosaur cover with disposable insert. This step is nothing to write home about. Elise liked the look, and the added bulk helped, but something about this last layer just made the process whole. Standing up, Elise looked down at the bulk. Four layers of padding, one thoroughly soaked, made up her diaper. Her diaper was bulky, her diaper was cute, her diaper was soaked, and her diaper was ready to be filled. Only three items remained. Next was her footed sleeper. It’s soft insides and zip up front were perfect for her. The little feeling of a toddler getting out of bed, thick nighttime diaper was a sight to behold. Risking another detor, Elise waddled to the bathroom for a look in her full length mirror. She giggled at the site before her. The sleeper did nothing to hide the bulk. The front crotch puffed out comically, and her rear looked like a beanbag chair. However she frowned. The mass of padding was thick to her liking, but the added weight sagged down and the warm wet kiss of the diaper was not the ever-present touch she craved. Back to her bedroom she stomped to put on the final piece of clothing. The Tykables snap crotch shortall was hiked up over the thickness of her diaper before the straps were tightened. The nuk 10 sized pacifier was roughly shoved into her mouth, filling all the gaps as Elise let out a moan. While not visually consistent, the addition of the shortall had completed the feel of her ensemble. It pulled the mass of padding up and into her crotch and pushed the mush in between her butt so that every inch of her lower half was encased in tight wet kisses. No longer able to contain herself, the girl threw herself onto the bed. The bulk restricting her movements all she could do was roll over as she pressed her hands against her swollen crotch. Rubbing back and forth she writhed in ecstasy and the beginning of her diaper romp began. The friction below aided by the wet warmth only caused her to add more moisture. Her sex was hot and heavy with anticipation as she pulled her phone out. With her left hand she navigated to her favorite sites. Endless swarms of diapered individuals crossed her screen as she took her free hand and plunged it between the overalls, through the open zipper of the sleeper, and into the warmth of the massive diaper. Her hand gently teasing herself, playing the part of gentle caresser as she continued to work herself up. Images on the screen, the smell of sex mixed with powder, and the feel of her infantile casing all sped the process up as she could feel herself building. First one finger, then two, and finally a third plunged into her sex as her own juices lubricated her digits. The pacifier worked furiously between her lips as she suckled and gurgled at one with the adult babies in front of her. And then it happened. The bulk pushing on her stomach, the constricting babyish clothing, and the threshing she had been doing brought the pain in her abdomen to a crescendo. Stopping for a moment, Elise rolled to the side of her bed. Her eyes blurry and her breath heavy she stood up and turned to her mount. Her steed in this battle stood before her in all its glory. An old chest she used to store off season clothes lay towards the foot of her bed. Waddling towards it with mush for brains she readied herself for her finale. The gurgles would be the orchestra for her moment. She could feel the mass peaking out of her back door ready to fill her seat and she could deny it no longer. Facing away from the front of the chest she bent down into a squat and pushed. The first solid log felt like a solid sausage creeping out of her bottom as it hit the puffy padding below. It held for only a moment before coiling up around her bottom. And like a cork this first wave only held back the sludge that began pouring out of poor little Elise. The mush that came next was soft and squishy. Hot and heavy as it filled her seat and began to spread. Elise let out a haughty breath as the poop came to a stop only for her stomach to cramp once more. Already Elise could tell, this was the fullest diaper she had ever made. No piddling nugget in the seat of her pants, this was a MESS. A full on poopy pants catastrophe. Yet more was on its way. Without her consent of permission the next wave a stinky, smelly poop surged from between her cheeks. Seconds felt like hours as she filled her diaper’s seat with all the mess she could. It was like a high. The girl had done it. She had pooped her pants… better yet, she had througoughly pooped her diaper like the good little adult baby she was. She had filled her seat like a naughty toddler with a grin to match. From behind her pacifier she gave a great sigh before falling back onto the chest. Like a mini explosion the half solid, half sludgy mess in her pants spread out and covered every inch of her diaper. No longer able to wantingly shove her hands down her padding, Elise bounced like the happy adult baby she was. Smooshing and spreading her diaper’s contents as much as she could as the heat between her legs grew and grew. Smoosh, pant, smoosh, pant, giggle. She grabbed the front of her ridiculously thick padding with her hands and rubbed furiously as she bounced back and forth. The moan caught in her throat, her chest heaved with baited breath, her bottom slammed down on the chest below and her crotch exploded in orgasm. Wracked with shakes she ground her hips into the diaper below, riding the highs of post coital bliss. Eeking out another smaller shudder, she came one final time before standing up and flopping back onto the bed, mushy padding bulging out above her. Suckling on her paci she lay there for several minutes before a sound rang out in the house. A chime that reminded her of the time. A time she was not at all prepared for. The Zoom meeting had started in her office and she was in no time to change. Thankfully she wouldn’t be expected to show her face, but her attire… no time to care. Waddling with the messiest diaper of her life towards her home office, the adult baby quickly sat in her chair with a squish. Stifling a moan she could feel her libido slowly returning only to shove it down and join the meeting. It only lasted a few minutes, her coworkers eager to finish the day, but to Elise her big girl business meeting couldn’t end soon enough. Messy diaper taped to her waist, every little movement brought a new slimy sensation around her bottom. While most people might find this a horrid experience, Elise could only find the burning passion to continue what she had started in the bedroom and by the time the meeting ended, Elise was already waddling back for another round with her stinky, smelly, poopy, messy diaper. Well, dear reader. That was it. A small experience of a girl well into adulthood, attempting to be the best adult baby she could be. Realism be damned, she was going to have a FULL diaper, and that she did. I hope you all enjoyed it and have a great day.

I've started a new story series featuring Reilly. The 18-year-old recently graduated high school and is desperate to stop bedwetting before he starts college in the fall. The return to bedtime diapers, however, leads to unexpected and rapid regression in Reilly's potty training and behavior. Good thing his family is so loving and understanding and hires the perfect babysitter to get him through what's hopefully just a phase. You can get early access to new chapters through my SubscribeStar site (https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges). I'll be posting chapters here after they've been up on my site for a while. Enjoy, and remember comments/feedback motivate me to write more! Ch. 1 – Introducing Reilly The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the spacious living room, casting a soft, golden glow over the family seated in a semi-circle. It was a calm, quiet afternoon, but the weight of the conversation about to happen filled the air. In the center of it all sat Reilly, his nerves on full display, his legs bouncing as he sat in a chair slightly separated from the rest of the group. Miriam, Reilly's mom, and Michael, his dad, sat opposite him on the sofa, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. Julie and Matt, Reilly’s older siblings, sat on the couch nearby, exchanging quiet glances. Mom broke the silence, her tone gentle but firm, as she always tried to be with Reilly. “Thanks, everyone, for making some time for a family meeting. You know we don’t have these unless it’s important, and I wanted Julie and Matt to hear this at the same time.” She turned to Reilly, and putting all of her love and concern into her words, say, “Reilly, sweetheart, we’ve noticed you’ve been struggling a lot lately, especially with college just around the corner. We think it’s time we make some changes to help you feel more secure.” Reilly looked down at his hands, anxiety building in his chest. He’d known this conversation was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. He swallowed hard before speaking, his voice quiet. “What kind of changes?” Dad leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but direct. “We want to help you manage your bedwetting, your accidents, and some of the behavior we’ve seen lately. It’s been tough for you, and we think we need a more structured approach.” Reilly’s head snapped up, already defensive. “I’m doing fine,” he insisted, though the doubt in his voice betrayed him. He could already feel where this was going. Mom exchanged a glance with Dad before continuing. “Reilly, three months ago, you came to me, asking for help with your bedwetting. You were worried about starting college in the fall and didn’t want your roommate to find out. You had the idea that being punished might help you stop.” Reilly’s cheeks flushed at the memory of that embarrassing conversation. That he even spoke about his bedwetting to his mom – it was an open secret they never discussed, his parents letting Reilly deal with it on his own – betrayed how desperate he was to dry up before college. He squirmed in his seat, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. “I just thought maybe if there were consequences… maybe I’d stop,” he muttered. “Ya know, like conditioning. Like, if I associated bedwetting with being punished, it would help me stop.” Mom nodded, her voice full of understanding. “I know, honey. And we agreed to try it. But remember, I said you’d have to switch from pull-ups to proper diapers at night. The pull-ups weren’t enough; they leaked too often.” Dad jumped in. “We started the routine you asked for—diapers at night and a spanking in the morning if you wet the bed. At first, you did well with it. You took the spankings without too much trouble. We asked you every morning if you wanted to keep trying it, and you said yes. Your mom and I, we didn’t quite know what to think, but we love you and you asked us for help, so we kept up the … let’s call it your routine.” Julie, always the compassionate older sister, leaned forward. She knew this part of the story. “But then, Mom found out you were still trying to wear pull-ups, right? You were sneaking them on at night instead of using the diapers.” Reilly’s face turned redder. “I didn’t want to wear the diapers. They’re… babyish,” he admitted, almost whispering the last word. He hated how small the diapers made him feel, even more so than the spankings. Mom sighed softly, her motherly concern evident in every word. “They’re not, Reilly. They’re to help you. And anyway, pull-ups are just diapers that get pulled up instead of taped on, except the pull-ups leaked all over your sheets and the diapers didn’t.” She paused, catching herself before she rehashed that entire debate. “That’s when I started diapering you myself at night, to make sure you had on your diaper like you agreed to. But even then, you were taking them off after I went to bed.” Dad crossed his arms, though his tone remained even. “That’s when we had to make the decision to extend the discipline. It wasn’t easy for any of us, but your mom and I decided because you really wanted this to work, we’d do more to help make it work. It wasn’t just about bedwetting anymore. If you took off your diaper, you were disobeying us. For that, we started giving you a spanking for when your behavior warranted it … And other consequences. We never spanked any of you before, and we thought you had outgrown needing those kinds of consequences, but, well, …”. He shrugged, not bothering to finish his sentence. Matt, usually quiet during these conversations, chimed in. “So that’s when the spankings started being for more than just accidents, right?” “Exactly,” Dad nodded. “It became about following the rules we set to help Reilly. We needed to address not just the bedwetting but the rule breaking, and so long as we were using more childish consequences for breaking that rule, and because it did work – you did stop taking off your diapers – we decided to try it for general discipline issues.” Reilly shifted uncomfortably. He knew all this; his parents never instituted any change in his so-called routine or discipline without explaining it and making sure he understood. He appreciated that, but he still hated the embarrassment of talking about it, compounded by his siblings being in the room, though they knew most of it already. Julie still lived at home, and Matt visited frequently. “I get it, but it still doesn’t feel fair,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t trying to be bad. I just didn’t want to wear the diapers.” “We understand that,” Mom said softly, “which is why we did the other consequence – if you took your diaper off at night, you got an extra hard spanking and had to wear diapers for the entire day.” Mom and Dad had started using new words, or, rather, old words without even realizing it after diapering Reilly became a part of their lives again. Toilets once more became potties in their lexicon. Mom continued, “We meant it to be just a one-time thing. We thought you’d get the message, hate having to use them so much we’d never have to put you in daytime diapers again. Except, you didn’t get the message right away. And then you had a daytime accident in your diaper. And another and another.” Dad added, “And then you stopped taking your diaper off at night, and we stopped diapering you during the day and …” “The accidents didn’t stop,” Julie finished. Turning to Matt, she added, “Not every single time he had to use the bathroom, and not every day, but …” She chose her next word carefully. “Enough that I think we can all agree it’s a problem, let’s say.” Reilly’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “That wasn’t my fault!” he protested. “I don’t know why it happened. I didn’t mean to have accidents.” Mom reached out to place a hand on his knee, her touch soft but firm. “We know, honey. We don’t think it’s your fault.” Reilly was quiet, his mind racing. He hadn’t thought about the time of it all before. “I wasn’t having accidents before the daytime diapers,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “That’s exactly it,” Dad said, his voice thoughtful. “We’re not entirely sure what happened, but it did. And not only that. Reilly,” he said in a tone careful to avoid sending the wrong message, “you must’ve noticed your behavior since all this has become – I’m sorry to say it like this – more childish. Issues we haven’t had since you were little. Not doing your homework, arguing about chores, and just … Stuff we thought we’d never have to deal with again. Getting you to take a shower, eating your vegetables, arguing over so much, even – let’s call them what they are – temper tantrums when you don’t get your way.” Mom jumped in. “We’re not saying these things to be mean Reilly.” Quietly, Reilly said, “I know. I don’t know why I’ve been that way. I … I just can’t help myself sometimes.” Mom continued, “I know, sweetie. It’s not like daddy and I want to be putting our adult son in timeout or taking away toys and privileges, or giving you an early bedtime. Let alone having to spank you when none of that gets through to you.” It had been awkward, an understatement if ever there was one, for Mom and Dad to spank Reilly for the bedwetting like he asked them to. It was mortifying for all of them when they decided the time had come to give a spanking as an actual consequence for actual misbehavior. That in three months it had become almost normal – Reilly was by then getting his bottom swatted to some extent – sometimes a couple warning swats, sometimes a full-blown over-the-knee, bare bottom spanking – that it just wasn’t a big deal anymore. It did stop Reilly’s misbehavior in its tracks most of the time, but he recovered so quickly that thirty minutes after it was over, you’d never suspect he’d gotten his 18-year-old fanny warmed by his mother. Mom added, “And it does help. Daddy and I have seen it, and you said as much, how those kinds of childish punishments, as much as you don’t like them, do calm you down when you lose your composure.” That isn’t quite how he put it, but when they had not one but three family mini-meetings, just the three of them, trying to get to the bottom of all this, Reilly had, furiously blushing, admitted he was doing his best and knew the way he was acting wasn’t right or normal, so while he hated being disciplined those ways, he knew and appreciated that it got him back on track, albeit briefly. Dad said, “We’re trying to find out why all this has happened, but while we do that, it’s important to deal with the reality in front of us. You have the whole summer in front of you, and you’re supposed to start college in the fall. We can’t ignore that there are two problems we have to deal with head on, and they’re related.” Mom looked at Reilly with sympathy. “That’s why we’re talking about this now. It’s not just about punishment or control. It’s about helping you adjust and giving you the structure that seems to help you feel better.” Reilly could feel the walls closing in around him. The mention of more structure put him on alert. His voice wavered as he spoke. “So… what does this mean? What are you going to do?” Mom glanced at Dad before delivering the news. “The first thing is we can’t let these accidents continue without doing something. It’s not about your clothes or the couch; those are just things, Reilly. It’s about you, your health, physical and mental. We know these accidents make you so terribly anxious and upset. We know it’s embarrassing. And they’ve been getting worse.” “No, they haven’t,” Reilly interjected, trying to save face. Mom’s expression softened in sympathy. “I know they have, sweetheart. If know you’ve been hiding more accidents and using your allowance to buy underpants. A few wet accidents I may not have noticed, but so many … and the messy ones.” She could see how mortified Reilly was, and that was the whole point. He was always embarrassed on mentally preparing himself to be embarrassed. He was hyper-focused on not having an accident; when they started asking him and remind him to use the potty, he was way ahead of them, going to the bathroom seemingly every twenty minutes even when he didn’t have to go. Even then, not all accidents were averted. Even if they had been, sitting on the potty almost half the day was hardly a solution to his problem. Mom took a deep breath and made the first announcement that was the point of the family meeting: “Daddy and I decided to put you back in diapers full-time until we get this all figured out, Reilly. We think it’s the best way to manage your accidents and help you feel more comfortable., and get this thing licked before the end of the summer.” Reilly’s reaction was immediate and visceral. “Full-time? Like a baby?” His voice cracked, rising with panic. “Not like a baby, Reilly,” Mom said gently. “Think of it as a precaution, something to help you avoid embarrassment and discomfort. This isn’t a punishment. This is a good thing. No more accidents everyone can see, no more being constantly afraid you’re going to have an accident, no more of that anxiety and stress, no more running to the potty and …” She shook her head. “ … the heartbreak on your face …” Her voice broke. “… when you don’t make it. It doesn’t have to be that way. This will fix all of that until we figure out how to stop these accidents.” “But what will people think?” Reilly’s voice was full of fear and resistance. “What if someone finds out?” Dad’s voice was calm but firm. “We’ll handle it discreetly. The people who need to know will be told with your dignity in mind. They won’t think any less of you.” “But what about everyone else?” Reilly asked, his panic growing. “What if they see? I don’t want people making fun of me!” “We’ll be as careful as we can, Reilly,” Mom reassured him. “But we need to be realistic. Your care requires effort and attention, and while we’ll do our best to keep it private, there might be situations where it’s unavoidable. We’ll be there, all of us, to help you get through it. No one is going to make fun of my Reilly on my watch, but really, hun, people are more mature than you might think. I don’t think that will be an issue.” Tears pricked at Reilly’s eyes, the overwhelming fear of being exposed gnawing at him. He opened his mouth to argue more, but Mom held up a hand gently. “Reilly, I know this is hard. But we’re doing this because we love you and we want what’s best for you.” Julie, sensing her brother’s rising anxiety, leaned forward. “Reilly, no one is going to make fun of you. We’re all here to help. And honestly, diapers are way less embarrassing than a big wet spot on your pants or… you know, something worse.” Reilly’s face crumpled in shame as Julie’s comment reminded him of the messy accident he’d had during her awards ceremony. The ceremony was outdoors, and they sat at the end of the aisle just so Reilly could get to the potty quickly. He’d known he needed the potty, but when Mom noticed his fidgeting and asked him if he need to excuse himself, a silly sense of pride he couldn’t even explain to himself, led him decide to hold it just to prove he could. Mom, Dad, and Matt all saw him fidgeting more and more, and when Mom directly suggested to him he go use the potty, he denied needing to go at all. And then, after it happened, it was the unmistakable scent and not that Reilly, cringing in his seat, had stopped squirming. Yet when Mom asked him point blank if he had an accident, he actually denied it. They were all perplexed – did he really not know what he’d done, or did he think they couldn’t tell, or was he too silly and proud to admit or, did he just not mind sitting in it? After a half-minute of confused looked between Mom, Dad, and Matt, Dad took Reilly by the hand to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up. Reilly never gave a straight answer explaining his behavior. Messy accidents were thankfully much more rare, but they happened more than that one time, which was noteworthy because of Reilly’s behavior and because it was the first such accident in public, so far. Mom’s voice softened even more as she tried to soothe him. “Remember that, Reilly. We’re doing this to prevent those situations. Diapers aren’t babyish—they’re just a way to help you stay comfortable.” Reilly, still overwhelmed, was on the verge of a full-on tantrum. His hands balled into fists, and his breath came in shallow gasps. “I don’t want to wear them all the time!” he yelled, the fear and frustration bubbling to the surface. Dad, seeing where this was headed, spoke in a low, warning tone. “Reilly, calm down. You’re getting too worked up.” “I won’t calm down! I’m 18, and you’re talking about making me wear diapers like a baby!!!” Julie jumped in. “Do we need to take a break to calm down?” Often, she knew, when Reilly was headed toward a tantrum, he just needed a few minutes to collect himself. “I’m not wearing diapers all the time! You can’t make me!” “Reilly,” Mom said sharply to get his attention, “If you keep yelling, you’re getting a spanking.” She knew from the many tantrums in the past three months Reilly was past his point-of-no-return when he couldn’t be reasoned with and only the threat of a spanking could stop a full-blown tantrum. And unlike a toddler’s tantrum, an 18-year-old’s was louder, wilder, and sometimes even dangerous with the throwing, thrashing, and actual sprawled-out-feet-and-hands-pounding-the-floor theatrics. They were worried Reilly would unintentionally hurt himself or someone else. The threat of a spanking was effective in stopping a tantrum past the point of no return perhaps two times in five. When it failed, a few warning swats on the seat of his pants could bring him back around perhaps another two times in five. The fifth time, Reilly needed a spanking, a real one. Once they told Reilly he was getting a spanking, Mom and Dad always followed through, and for all the physicality of his tantrums, and though it was sometimes a test of wills, they always managed to get him over their knees where they could deliver a safe, measured spanking. Sometimes he stopped right away, sometimes he needed to be spanked to tears, but always afterward he was mortified and apologetic. Mom and Dad never had any hard feelings about it; they knew he wanted to be behaving that away even less than he wanted to get spanked. At the mention of a spanking, Reilly froze, his body stilling as the anger began to ebb away. He didn’t want to be spanked, especially not in front of Julie and Matt (again). His voice cracked as he spoke again, this time quieter. “It’s just… I hate it.” “We know, sweetie,” Mom said, her voice full of compassion. “But you need to trust us.” The tantrum, and that the threat of a pink bottom stopped it in its tracks, made a convenient segue for the second part of Mom and Dad’s decision. “Reilly,” Dad said, “There’s more. Your behavior since all this began … I’ve already said that.” He had rehearsed and prepared for this, but forgot it all in the moment. “We’re also going to be stricter with you for a while. The yelling and near-tantrum you just had, that’s not normal for a boy your age. You know that. And as much as you hate getting spanked, we hate having to do it … But none of us can deny it works. It does work on tantrums, and for some of the other issues you’ve been having.” Reilly was panicking again. “So what are you saying? I’m going to get spanked for every little thing!?!” “No,” Mom said. “No. We’ll keep using spanking as a disciplinary tool like we’ve been doing. Only when it’s call for and always proportional to your misbehavior. What Daddy is saying is there are going to be some more rules and structure, and we’re going to enforce that. When you make a bad choice, there will be consequences. Spanking is a last resort. You can avoid it if you listen, and I know you’ll try your best.” That was the central issue: Reilly was trying his best, and his best wasn’t good enough to keep him acting, and having accidents, like a toddler. Not they ever had or ever would punish accidents, but two issues seemed link, like Reilly has regressed somehow. Dad had decided against telling Reilly this part of their thinking, but in the moment, he let it slip. “Little kids thrive on structure. We know you’re not a little kid, but the issues you’ve been having, we think it’s worth a try.” Julie jumped in with more comforting words. “You know, this isn’t forever, Reilly. It’s just for the summer, so we can help you get back on track before college.” Reilly’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “What about when summer’s over?” “We’ll reassess then,” Dad answered. “It might not even last the summer. We’re all hoping we can get this thing figured out fast, and things can all go back to normal. If it takes longer, if it takes the summer, then it takes the summer. None of us want that, and I’m sure there will be some bumps along the way. We’ll need to make adjustments, we’ll figure out how to make it work. But for now, we’re focusing on what’s best for you. Bottom line is we’re all here for you.; this is about supporting your needs and getting you through this.” Reilly stayed quiet, but he knew the sense in what they were saying. It seemed outlandish, but then so did his original idea that a morning spanking would cure his bedwetting. Matt, who hadn’t said much, spoke up. “So, what exactly is this full-time diaper and discipline routine thing going to look like?” Mom explained the logistics. “Diapers full-time, of course. We’ll try to avoid as many accidents as possible, but with the diapers, when an accident happens, we’re not going to treat it like a big deal. That’s what diapers are for; we’ll get you cleaned up and move on with our day.” “You’ll get me cleaned up,” Reilly asked. Mom understood what he was asking. “We think it’s best that we handle the diapering and changes, at least for now.” She paused a moment to remember the rest of the routine. “You’ll have a bedtime and a daily nap. Being well-rested will help avoid some of the misbehavior you’ve been getting into. We’re going to limit your screentime and make sure you’re only watching or playing stuff that doesn’t get you worked up. Eating healthy is important, too, so say the support groups I joined when all this started, so you’re going to have to ask when you want a snack and eat what we feed you.” “The other big thing,” Dad said, “is you’re not going to be left alone while all this is going on. We know you like your independence. A summer job is obviously out of the question, and now with school out, you’re going to have a lot of free time. You’re going to need help with your diapers, and we want you to be safe and supported at all times, so someone will always be with you.” “So I can’t see my friends,” an almost despondent Reilly asked. “Of course you can,” Mom told him. “There just needs to be someone with you. They can keep their distance, and maybe it could even be one of your friends’ parents if you’re hanging out at their house.” “And we’ll need you and Julie to help more,” Dad added, looking at his older children. “You’ll need to keep an eye on Reilly and sometimes be his …” Dad hadn’t found a suitable euphemism, and Reilly was too smart to fall for it anyway. “… his babysitter sometimes. But most importantly, just be there for him.” Julie nodded, understanding her role. “We can do that. Right, Matt?” Matt nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got this. We’ll help in every way we can. We’re going to beat this, Reilly.” “And we’re still looking for a babysitter,” Dad continued. “Someone who can help during the day when we’re not around and just when we need an extra set of hands.” “In fact,” Mom added, “we’re looking for someone around your age so it’s not awkward when they’re chaperoning you with your friends.” Reilly, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke again. “Can I have some input on who it is?” “Of course,” Mom assured him. “We’ll make sure it’s someone you’re comfortable with.” There was a lengthy pause. “Reilly,” Julie asked, “how are you feeling right now?” He didn’t answer right away, his expression at first inscrutable. “I just … I want this to … I just want to get past this. If you think this is best … And I know this is … I don’t want to be … a burden.” His voice, and Mom and Julie were immediately at his side comforting him. “I trust you if you say this is going to help … I’ll try my best, I promise.” Tears were flowing, and he turned and pressed his face into Mom’s chest, the soft, safe place he’d nestled his head when he was upset all the way back to his toddler days, but not in years now. Mom cooed and shushed while Julie patted his back and told him everything would be okay and that they all loved him. Dad and Matt echoed it all. They told Reilly how proud they were he was taking responsibility by acquiescing. His parents would’ve made him cooperate if they had to, and they were so glad they didn’t. By the end of their praise and pep talk, Reilly almost felt good about the changes in life, that it was all positive if it actually made a difference. As he had with every family meeting they’d ever had, Dad signaled its end by standing up, stretching his arms, and saying, “I think we all deserve a frosty chocolate milkshake. You wanna help me, Reilly?” “Actually,” Mom interjected, “I’m going to get Reilly into a diaper. We won’t be long.” “Does it have to be now,” Reilly asked, hoping to delay daytime diapers until at least the next day. “No time like the present. Besides, it’s almost your new bedtime after milkshakes.” It was 8:15. And we might as well get you in your bedtime diaper and jammies now.” She’s helping me into my pajamas, Reilly wondered. “Reilly,” Julie said nervously. “Since I’m going to be helping you out and watching you sometimes, I’m going to have to learn, you know, how Mom and Dad do certain things. Is it okay if I come upstairs so I can learn how to diaper you … I mean, put your diaper on?” She wondered to herself how, exactly, the latter phrase was supposed to be less embarrassing for him and couldn’t say. Reilly didn’t want her to see him down there, let alone to diaper him, not then or ever. He looked to Mom, hoping she would say he’d had enough change for one night. Alas for him, she said, “That’s a really good idea, Julie. And thank you for jumping right in. See, Ry? We’re all here for you together.” Holding his hand, Mom led Reilly upstairs, Julie following behind. “Everything’s going to be okay, Ry. We’re not going to let any of this stop you from having fun this summer. In fact, not to toot my own horn, but I have it on good authority I’m kinda the best at making diaper changes fun.” Scared not just about the new routine but about his future, Reilly remembered in the moment a coping mechanism a counselor had taught him, to remember to feel gratitude. He had a great family, and he knew it. Everything was out of love, including all the work they were undertaking for him. They were rooting for him. He reminded himself of that, and even Julia’s silly joke made him smile, just a little. _____________________ Get the next chapter on my SubscribeStar. https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges

"The Dumb Baby Maker: Full ABDL Hypnosis and Brainwashing. Causes incontinence, blind obedience, helplessness, and infantile speech patterns. Guaranteed to ensure your little subby's brain is turned to mush and deposited into their diapers. Lowers effective IQ 80%!" Baby looked at the box of CD's and headphones. She held it up and skimmed the warnings. "Only use if 100% certain of blah blah blah, ensure decent supply of diapers and blah blah blah... Are you sure you want to do this? If it works the way it says you'll REALLY need to take care of me. It says it makes the user a completely helpless idiot and totally diaper dependant." Her Daddy smiled. "In that case the real question is "do we really need it?" I think we acheived the goals already." He put a hand on her hip then turned her to the side and examined the back of her diaper. "Hmm. Clean for once. Shocker." She smiled back at him. "I can change that if you want." He shrugged. "Maybe later. Lets try the first one." He opened the box and took out a pair of headphones, player, and disk. "Really old fashioned," Baby said. "Yeah it's to save money. Made by Alex's Cheap Practical Low-cost Objective-Based Technology Devices. They are simple ways to acheive specific results easily so we can just move and not worry about it. Anyway, the first disk is called "Complex Thought: Who Needs it?" And says it will target your advanced problem solving. From there we can move onto "The Toilet is Evil: UnPotty Training" and "Baby Says What?: Bable talk For Dummies." He flipped through the disks. "These really target everything. By the end, you'll be a dumb baby for sure." He looked down at his girfriend. A blond haired woman, thirty years old, she she was nevertheless wearing a simple t shirt and a diaper, with a pacifier hanging around her neck, and knelt on the floor in front of him. She was gawking up at him, and had drolled a bit on to her shirt. From the looks of the slightly darker shade of her diaper, it wasn't the only thing she made wet. "I mean, more so then you already are." She smiled. "OK DADDY! Lets go!" He bent forward and put the headphones on her. ... SNAP SNAP SNAP Baby woke up to Daddy's fingers snapping in front of her. "Whoah wha?" she asked. "Whats going on?" "You just finished the first CD, the one targeting Complex Thought." "Oh... did it work?" "Well, if you have to ask..." She looked up at him, mouth hanging open. "Yes? If you have to ask, what?" He chuckled. "Nevermind babygirl. Lets test it shall we?" "OK!" She said, bouncing up and down on her knees. "Hmmmm..." he put a finger to his chin. "Whats five plus five?" She paused. The question still seemed annoyingly simple. "Ten." He nodded. "That's right, Baby. How about six minus six?" "Zero," the answer came easily. "Maybe it didn't work?" "Hmmm," he seemed to think again. "Maybe it didn't." "Try something harder!" "Alright. Five times five?" "Twenty five," She said, disappointed. "Square root of a hundred?" "Ten," she rolled an eye. "Get a refund?" "One thousand, one hundred and fifty seven times one thousand three hundred and fourty two." She paused and thought. "One million five hundred and fifty two thousand, six hundred and ninty four." He took out his cell phone, and she assumed he was checking. "Smart baby. What is the area of a right angle triangle?" She shook her head. "I don't know. Not enough information to answer." "Very smart baby." "Yeah..." She looked down. "Was kind of hoping I'd be... I don't know, dumber." He laughed and nodded. "Yep, me too." "So refund?" He shrugged. "Let's try the UnToilet Training one tomorow, and see how it goes. I know you're still a smart baby, but maybe the other's will work." "Ok Daddy," She said, though she couldn't hide her disapointment. ... ... The next day, Baby was sitting in a play pen in her kitchen, surrounded by her toys. Bored and frustrated, she made a stuffed elephant "walk" around the pen. She picked it up, looked at it in the face, growled and threw it against the netting, then leaned back on her bottom and folded her arms. The second CD hadn't worked either. It went on her head, played its weird noises, and when it was done, nothing inside her changed. And as a result, nothing outside her needed changing either, least of all her diaper. She looked down at it, and growled again. She bounced up and down on her bottom. "NO NO NO NO NO! HMPH!" She said, and folded her arms. "Now now Baby, I know your frustrated, but Daddy will find a solution." "Hmph," She said again, still folding her arms. Daddy, in fact, had already been working on a solution. He told her that if the CD didn't work, he'd try to acheive the same with a "Special recipe" he found online. He walked around the kitchen grabbing pots and pants and mixing ingredients into a massive pot of baked beans, which he claimed would guarantee a dirty diaper when she ate it. From the smell of it, she wasn't sure if the taste would be worth the effects. She turned away from the bubbling pots and groaned. "I don't know if I'll want to eat that Daddy. It smells awful." He looked at her. "Well if the CD isn't working you'll need some way to get there." "I know but..." She shook her head. "Ew." Was all she could muster. He tapped his spoon against the pot. "Alright, fair enough. It does stink in here. Speaking of..." He walked over to her. "Lets check that diaper agian, just in case." She rolled her eyes. "It's still clean Daddy, the tape didn't work." "Right," he pulled her forward and opened the back of her diaper, ensuring she was right. "Yep, one clean diaper after a full day. Sorry sweetie." "It's just not fair! All that time and money, and my diaper is still clean!" "I know, I know sweetie," He bent down and picked her up in a hug with her legs around his wasit and his hand on her bottom, and she clung tight to him. He patted her bottom. "Sorry you can't be a stinky baby." She put her head into him. "I know Daddy." "Well, come on," he said, and began carrying her out of the kitchen. "Where are we going Daddy?" "To the changing table, Baby." "Why? My diaper is clean." "I know your diaper is clean," he patted her bottom. "That's the problem. You've been sitting in the same clean diaper all day, and if you aren't going to use it, we still need to change it like we would any other clean underwear. Otherwise, since you can keep it clean for so long, it will still get gross with sweat and skin cells and fall apart, which is gross, right? So lets get you into your bedtime diaper then some PJs so you don't get a rash, ok? Sound good?" She nodded. "Yes Daddy." "Good girl," he patted her again. "Changing one totally clean diaper for another." (this story is request/prize for BabyVampers on twitter, who won a competition I found to find the "dumbest baby/subby on twitter" and requested a fitting story as a reward)

This is my first long story, hope you will enjoy. Chapter 1 "Hey, baby!" I called as I pushed open the front door, hung my coat up, and floated towards the kitchen. The house always smelled nice; there was some homemade gingerbread on the counter, and the sun was pouring in through the windows.My wife, Patricia, was bustling around, whisking up a frothy meringue; her blonde hair bouncing as she hummed to herself. "Hey yourself," she replied with a grin. I leaned against the counter and watched her for a while, listening to the clatter of the utensils against the mixing bowl. The warmth of the house enveloped me, and my heart swelled with love. "So, what's the plan for tonight?" I asked casually, keeping my face neutral. It wasn't like I didn't know - she'd been dropping hints about my birthday surprise for weeks. "Well," she said, looking at me slyly. "I've got a surprise for you." My heart leapt. "You've got to tell me, darling. I can't keep guessing all night." She moved closer, her blouse unbuttoned and her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. "Alright, alright, you'll have to wait a little longer." I chuckled and leaned in, brushing my fingers against her cheek, tasting the lipstick she'd just applied. "Fine, I can wait a little longer," I said, before capturing her lips for a kiss. She giggled and pulled away, returning to her cooking. "Dinner will be ready soon," she whispered, her breath hot and heavy against my face. "Then, you'll see." My curiosity was piqued. I had no idea what she had planned, but the anticipation was making me nervous with excitement. I had never seen her this secretive before, and it was making me wonder if she had discovered my hidden passion. I cleared my throat and looked away, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as Patricia set the table, poured the wine, and flitted around the kitchen. "You know, honey," she said suddenly, "I've been thinking." "Oh?" I said, trying to sound casual. "Yes," she replied, her voice low and husky. "I've been thinking about...your birthday surprise." I froze. So, she did know. "You...you have?" "Mm-hm," she said, nodding as she stare straight into my eyes. I looked at her, feeling my chest tighten and my mouth go dry. "I've been thinking about how much I love you, and how much fun we could have if we just let go of our inhibitions for a weekend." I gulped and tried to process her words, my heart racing in my chest. "I want to give you the best birthday present ever," she whispered, tracing a finger down my chest. "And I think I know exactly what that is." I felt my body tense up as she took a step back, a wicked gleam in her eye. "I want to give you what you've always wanted, darling," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You do?" I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat. "Yes," she nodded, her lips curled into a playful smile. "I know all about your... desires." My mind raced, trying to process her words. Could it be true? Had she really discovered my secret dirty love for diapers and being treated like a baby? "Come with me," she said, taking my hand and leading me towards the playroom. The room was dimly lit, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the new big changing table, a few packages of ABDL printed diapers and some diaper changing accessories. Some bondage gear was scattered about, adding an edge to the comfortable-mysterious atmosphere. I was in shock....

I'm so curious i was thinking about this for a fic. are there any foods drink that effect your bladder and make you need to go now? i don't know what it is about pepsi but it's always had an effect on my stomach so i rarely have it i'm fine with Coke though. I'm trying to think of other things i think sometimes peanut butter if i have so much and also eating way to fast especially chocolate.

What’s the best messing desperation story y’all have? Like a time where you were struggling to hold and eventually ending up filling your diaper or underwear?

An autobiographical story in which a girl recounts her unexpected regression. Thats a one shot story Part 1: Hi! im Silvia If someone asked me how all this started, I wouldn’t know how to answer. I only know that one morning I woke up, and the bed was wet. Obviously, my mother was not happy at all; she spent the morning yelling at me. She couldn’t understand how an 18-year-old girl could wake up in a wet bed and have no idea why. I don’t really remember the feeling of a wet bed; I just know that by the fourth night of lying in my own urine, my mother brought home a pack of pull-ups. The pull-ups were pink and covered in heart-shaped patterns. They weren’t like regular underwear; they were padded but more discreet compared to what I wear now. I cried and yelled at my mom, refusing to wear them, but in the end, she was right: I had become a stupid girl who wet the bed. The first time I wore them, I was surprised by how comfortable they were and how they didn’t show under my pajama pants. The next morning, I woke up dry. I was happy, moving my legs under the sheets, but then my hand reached the new underwear. Pressing it, I felt the imprint of a cold liquid still soaking the cover. I got up with my heart in my throat. My pull-up was soaked. I didn’t even tell my mother; she already expected it. I simply took it off, threw it away, and got dressed for class. And so I quickly went through the first two packs of 10 pull-ups: it had become a routine. In the evening, I brushed my teeth, put on the pull-up, and wore my pajamas. I even stopped changing it immediately; sometimes I went straight to breakfast. The worst part was when I lost control during the day. At first, it was just a more urgent need to pee, then a few drops would come out, and eventually, I ended up wetting myself freely. My mother took me to all the doctors in the world, but none could give me an answer. In the end, she gave up and made me wear pull-ups during the day. Then came the summer holidays, between wet pull-ups and often failed bathroom runs. Summer arrived, and it was time for diapers. I still remember the first time I pooped in my pull-up: I was at lunch and felt a strange sensation in my butt. It was like an itch that disappeared as soon as I pushed. I spread my legs and without realizing it, I pushed everything into my pull-up. The most embarrassing part was that I was in front of my mother, who looked at me in shock. That was the last time I wore pull-ups. I still remember the first diaper I wore. Of course, my mother spanked me heavily to make me wear it. The diaper was childish, white with a parade of bears carrying crayons on the front. The diaper came up over my navel, tightened at the level of my pubis, and then widened at my butt. It was incredibly comfortable, I felt like I was hugged by a cushion. At first, when my mother wasn’t looking, I played by patting my butt, marveling at the fact that I didn’t feel anything. Over time, my continence worsened: I wet myself freely, often without noticing, finding the diaper soaked. For pooping, it was different: I knew when I was doing it but didn’t have much warning. Eventually, I gave up trying to run to the bathroom and simply stopped wherever I was, spread my legs, and filled my diaper. The only thing that consoled me was that I was home for the summer holidays. What changed was my relationship with my mother: at first, I changed myself, not too happily when I smelled, and she commented that I didn’t put the diaper on correctly. Then she started automatically fixing the diaper tabs, ignoring my annoyed face. Then she started coming into my room while I was changing to see if I was doing everything right. Finally, she made me lie down, and she changed me. To be honest, I wasn’t too opposed, after all, it was one less dirty job. The only problem was that she started checking if I needed a change. Eventually, I became dependent on her; I no longer monitored the state of my diaper, and if my mother didn’t change me, I would stay in a dirty one for hours. It must have been the summer heat, but eventually, I started going around the house with just a t-shirt and the diaper in view, my mother cleaning my dirty butt, so who cared. I giggled when I saw myself in the mirror. I liked how my butt would sag and wobble after wetting. I even stopped noticing the smell of a dirty diaper. Then came the changing table. My mom bought it and put it in my bathroom: it was like a cabinet, painted pink, with drawers to keep my supplies. There was a purple ladder I used to climb up, and on top, there was a white mattress. It was very comfortable; I climbed up, lay down, and my mother did everything. I soon learned the difference between day and night diapers: the night ones were thicker, and I could sleep without fear of leaking. I realized I actually needed diapers one day, during a change, when I peed without noticing. My legs were still open, and the clean diaper had just been placed under my butt. Luckily, my mother was quick enough to close the front part, waiting for me to finish. Then I started sucking my thumb; I don’t remember how it happened the first time, I just know it ended up in my mouth automatically when I slept or did homework. After the thumb came the pacifier, “better for your teeth,” my mother said. The first pacifier was white and pink with a bunny drawn on it. I sucked on it often, not because it was really necessary, but because it was a habit, like I needed it to feel good or calm down. Then came the bottle: I started spilling the contents of glasses on myself, and soon my mother placed a bottle in front of me at dinner. I didn’t object; I was too thirsty. Drinking from a bottle was completely different: I could carry it around, drink lying down, drink while playing and studying. But what was strangest was my relationship with the outside world and my friends. Nobody cared that I was in diapers, nobody cared if I messed up in the middle of a store while shopping. The same went for my friends; they treated me like it was all normal, like the pacifier and diapers were my normal. It was different from how a child is treated, no, mine was normal, as if I were a regular 18-year-old girl. None of my friends said anything if my diaper was soaked, none seemed to notice my words distorted by the pacifier in my mouth. When we went out for drinks, I was sure my friends got a glass while I got a bottle. Eventually, I stopped worrying that people would see my diaper, nobody cared anyway, sometimes I even went out with just a t-shirt and the diaper in view. Part 2: Smelly diapers and highchair I forgot almost immediately that diapers were not my classic garment until a few weeks ago, simply as my friend clara wore pink panties, I had a nice padded diaper, white with pink hearts. After the pacifier, after the bottle, came the baby clothes. I discovered that I liked dungarees, especially with shorts; I also liked the bulge that could be glimpsed between my pubes and my bottom: it had become my outfit for evenings. To stay at home I often wore rompers: I had all kinds, one more childish than the other, and then according to my mother it was easier to change if there were buttons on my bottom. Another fact to recount is the sleepover at Clara's house. I showed up about 7 p.m.: I was wearing my favorite dungarees, pacifier in my mouth and hair pulled back in pigtails. I had my diaper bag with the essentials with me. Clara opened the door and let me in, we stood in the living room watching TV series, eating popcorn and drinking lots of coke of course from my bottle Toward the end of the first season my diaper was heavily in danger of leaking. It was at that moment that Clara surprised me by saying: " do you want me to change your diaper?" I turned and looked at her surprised; I had always thought that only my mother knew. " yes, if possible," I said somewhere between a flicker of shame and insecurity. He took me by the hand and walked me to the bathroom where he made me lie down. I didn't know what to say, I was embarrassed at first but then I realized it wasn't that different from when my mother did it so I let go. We finished changing and went to the bedroom where we chatted for a while as if it was normal for my best friend to change my diaper. Then Clara asked a question that amazed me: "How does it feel to poop in a diaper?" I looked at her a little stunned. "Well, I first feel a sensation on my bottom, as if my diaper wanted me to do it, then I feel that I have to push I spread my knees and do. I feel when my body starts to empty. When the poop comes out of me I can feel it flowing inside the diaper, like it's very hot and then it settles there until they change me," I replied with a splash of honesty. "It sounds extra gross," said clara. Eventually the strange questions ended and we went to bed. And so it was that July came between messy diapers and drunk bottles. It was on my birthday that my mother let me find the high chair: it was white, with two wooden dumbbells, one on the right, one on the left, and on one side, the seat was padded, white, like the small table that lowered over my legs. I didn't know what to say, the only thing I did was wet my diaper, strangely enough.... But my mother seemed so enthusiastic, so I indulged her. The feeling of being in a high chair is strange but I will try to describe it : the high chair is a taller chair and my legs are dangling, the padding is great, always to be on a cloud. The coffee table is lowered under my chest is comfortable because it is close and I don't get dirty with food What I learned after settling down is that diapers and high chairs are connected, if I wasn't padded and had to run to the potty I wouldn't get there in time. The only downside is that I have to depend on my mother to pass me the dishes and the baby bottle --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The last part is already out in my ream account, if u like my story pls subscribe to get priority access to my new parts e to others story that i dont publish here. https://reamstories.com/scrittoreanon

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

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND EPISODE 1 LEAVING THE LITTLE VAULT War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, lies Vault 86. The people of Vault 86 have lived peaceful lives for over ninety years. Most do not know what it’s like in the outside world–that outside the vault, they don’t sleep in cribs, that they aren’t able to play all day long without worry, and that they don’t even wear diapers. Armed with fresh padding, a dino pacifier, and the collected knowledge of his vault, Joe Palmer has been chosen to lead the first expedition outside in nearly one hundred years. But what will he find? *** “You’ve got your paci?” Mom asked, I pulled out my pacifier, tied on a lanyard around my neck. She nodded. “And you’ve packed spare diapers?” She checked my bag again, going through its contents one by one. “You don’t know if there’ll be any on the outside.” “I know mom!” I said, “And yes, I’ve packed spares.” I shrugged her off me–everyone was watching from behind. “Okay. I only ask because I love you, kiddo.” she smiled sweetly. “Already going out… ah. You’ve grown up so fast. Only twenty years ago you were this high!” she said, gesturing just below her knee. “Now look at you!” she leapt on me with a tight hug. “Moooom, you’re embarrassing me!” Even though she was squeezing me so hard I thought I would pass out, I accepted the hug, not knowing if I would see her again. Just before she broke away, I felt her tense up. She grunted a little, then sighed and went limp. The smell of her dirty diaper hit my nose almost immediately. As gross as it was, it didn’t bother me so much. It was the smell of home after all, a home I was about to leave for the first time. “We’re all so proud!” she gave one last, wan smile, then made her way back to the gathered group, waddling around in her freshly-filled padding. Overseer Carmichael nodded. “You’re doing a fine thing, son.” he said, and he gave me a brisk pat on the shoulder. “You get an idea of your surroundings, then come straight back here. Be gone no more than three days, understand?” “I do Overseer.” I gave a determined nod. “Good lad. We’ll have a good ol’ play party waiting for you when you get back.” he winked, and I gave him a smile. “You ready?” I looked around the room one last time. Two dozen or so people had gathered here, out of the three-hundred people who inhabited the vault. All these people had come to see me leave, I nodded to each of them. I was so nervous, my hands were sweaty and I swear I was already beginning to leak a little into my diaper. At least I would have that comfort, that reminder of the vault. “I’m ready.” I nodded to Overseer Carmicheal. The Overseer nodded slowly back, and moved up to the console, ready to open the inner doors. Everyone took a step back, I heard them draw in breath. I touched all of my equipment again, to make sure it was there–my supply bag (with food, spare diapers, and Mister Fancypants the teddy bear, of course), my holstered gun, and my pip-boy. “Joseph Olsen Palmer, we wish you good luck, and safe travels.” The Overseer pressed a button on the console, and an arm swung around to grasp at the inner door. It slid open smoothly, and spun out of the way. I took in a deep breath, refusing to look back at what I was leaving behind, and made for the outer door. The inner door locked behind me with a loud clang, and I was alone. I knew that the people of vault 86, the people I most cared about, were just behind the door, but that didn’t stop my nerves. This was it, the last chance I had to turn back, I almost went for it, went to knock on the door and call it in already. But then I saw everyone’s faces again, and the hope they had for me. So I remained alone in the darkness. Despite it all, I felt the bulk of my diaper keeping me safe under my onesie. Resolutely, I took my green dinosaur pacifier, and stuck it in my mouth. Feeling much better about my chances now that I had Tommy the T-Rex on my side, I stepped up to the outer door. It was angled slightly, tilted towards the floor like a massive hatch. I knew that when it opened, the first thing I would see would be the endless sky, just like the one painted above my crib. But so much more real. The outer door opened with much less grace than the inner one had. The machinery squealed and groaned, as if the vault itself was in pain. How long had it been shut? Nearly a hundred years? Three generations of people had never seen the outside world. My own grandpa had told me stories of when he was little, before the bombs. He’d said that people ‘potty-trained’ back then, and only wore diapers when they were little. He told me how angry he had been when they told him he’d had to start using diapers again, but after everyone began using them, he came around to the idea. Eighty years later, and diapers were the norm. It was terrifying, how quickly things could change. Vault 86 was a place to relax, and let all your worries–potty training included–disappear. Soon I would have to change my own diapers, sleep outside of a crib, and find my own food. My nerves rose suddenly, and I tried not to panic. Why was I leaving it all behind? Why did things have to change? The door inched open, and I recoiled. A golden ray of light shone through the small gap, brighter and warmer than I had ever experienced before. The sun. My panic transformed into excitement. This is why I was going out–to finally see what was outside, after all this time. The door opened completely, leaving a light cloud of dust in its wake. With a broad smile, and a mostly clean diaper, I stepped into the outside world. *** The massive door, with Vault 86 written big on the front, slowly rolled back into place, and I checked my Pip-boy–the slow clicking counter meant radiation levels matched our initial scan. So that was good. I looked around. Ahead of me was a wide, open concrete plain, dotted with the broken ruins of old buildings, and beyond that, the hills. Apparently this place was an airport, once used by soldiers, though I didn’t see any airplanes like the toy ones we had in the vault. My Pip-boy had been loaded with old maps of a town called Blackstone, in what used to be Virginia. My job was simple–match the maps to the world outside. “Oh! This is going to be so fun!” I wiggled about, unable to keep my excitement hidden away. I decided my first job was to update the area right outside the vault, so I waddle-marched all around it, and got some measurements, and made sure that the maps were up-to-date. After about an hour, just as I was coming to the end of my first survey, I realized that without thinking, I was weeing. My diaper had done a good job of soaking the accident (thank goodness) but I stopped as soon as I realized I was going. I didn’t have many diapers out here, and they would need to be rationed, so that meant holding it in as long as possible. I sighed, left with no choice but to endure the uncomfortable feeling of needing to pee pee. At least my diaper was nice and squishy now. I gave the front a poke, and giggled at the way it moved about. “Right then,” I said, taking out my checklist, “Item number twosies! Check for human activity.” The airbase was big, so big that I could barely see Vault 86 in the distance by the time I reached the edge. It was so quiet out here, I was sure that if other humans were around I would have heard some by now. Suddenly feeling very lonely, I decided it would be best if Mister Fancypants joined me out of my bag, and took him to cuddle while I continued doing a lap around the airbase. His legs dangled beneath him, whenever I got nervous I squeezed his fuzzy fur. Mister Fancypants had been with me nearly my entire life, and had insisted on bringing him with me. It wasn’t long before I came across a small group of houses on the edge of the airbase. The need to pee grew with every minute I was walking, but I knew if I could just hold on a little longer, I could save diapers for the rest of the trip. Plus, I wasn’t looking forward to changing myself all the way out here. I’d practiced a lot but I still wasn’t very good. I didn’t manage to hold it very long. Before I had completed another, wider circle around the airbase, I had to stop in a little forested area. I wriggled my legs, and squeezed them together as tightly as I could, but I struggled to push them all the way. My puffy diaper prevented me from pressing them together, and stopped me from holding myself to stop the wee, though I gave it my best shot at pushing into the padding. Before long, I was jumping from foot-to-foot doing a little potty dance. It was very rare that we had to hold our bladders in the vault, normally we just went whenever nature called, and got changed later, after all that’s what diapers were for. Unfortunately, that meant I struggled desperately with the weight of pee in my tummy, and felt a little leak into my diaper without warning. I hugged Mister Fancypants tighter, and tried my best to hold it in, but my best wasn’t enough. “N-nooooo!” Suddenly, the dam burst open, and immediately my diaper grew warm. It spread up the front of my padding, and across my bottom at the back, and made everything soft and squishy. “Aahhhh!” I gave an almighty sigh, and felt myself sag, my legs no longer tense with holding back my accident. The padding around my waist swelled and spread my legs apart even wider, until eventually my stream stopped. “Nnnnn. That felt goooood.” I said with a silly smile across my face. The now pleasantly warm diaper squished when I poked at it, now almost completely saturated. “Wow. I really had to go, didn’t I, Mister Fancypants?” I looked down at my teddy, but he gave me a blank stare back. “No need to be so mean Mister Fancypants, I really couldn’t hold it anymore!” Mister Fancypants didn’t respond. Deciding to continue my survey, I let my soaking diaper sag beneath me as I walked. There was no point in changing yet, after all I still had work to do. Besides the fact that I may as well use my diaper as much as I could before a change, I kind of wanted to find somewhere a little more private, and safe. Despite my earlier confidence being out here in the wild was beginning to give me the willies. My survey ended with a small, surprisingly neat, house on the edge of the forest. I guessed that this was the way into Blackstone, based on my maps. It was beginning to get late, and after wetting my diaper another few times, I decided it might be best to make a little camp in the building. I also quickly realized I should also probably change myself before I got a rash, or worse, leaked. I didn’t want to ruin my onesie. The house looked like a standard pre-war house, the sort I had seen in pictures in the vault. The garden, once cared for, had been left to grow messy and patchy. The wooden fence had nearly rotted away completely, but there were very few weeds, and hardly any rubble, unlike the ones I had seen earlier. I had expected the place to be in worse condition inside, but apart from a small layer of dust and a few webs here and there, it looked almost completely untouched. I stood still for a moment, and sucked thoughtfully on Tommy the T-Rex. “Yes. Dis will do niwcely.” I said from behind my paci. I uncoiled my bed-roll to act as a changing mat. It wasn’t like the ones back home, but it would do. “I can do dis. I can do dis.” I repeated to myself. With a squish that sent the yellowed padding outward, I sat down on my diaper. Getting the old diaper off was the easy bit. I ripped open the tapes, and pulled it open, revealing the very yellow padding beneath. It was all swollen and heavy. I folded it into a weighty little package, and then into a plastic bag–it was important to dispose of the diaper ethically after all, and not just leave it on the ground, even if the world had been nuked to oblivion. Right. I steeled myself. Now that the easy bit was done, things got a little trickier. After wiping myself down with a damp washcloth, I carefully retrieved the clean padding and placed it beneath me. I’d seen the Mister Handy caretakers back in the vault do this a million times, how hard could it be? I powdered over my diapered area, then lifted the front up against my belly, and leant back a little so it would stay there. Then I went to fold the back up. But by the time I turned back around, the front had fallen down again. “Mmmfff! Why is this so hard?” I tried again, but this time, focused on one side at a time. This worked much better, and I was able to stick the left side together with a single, loose tape. However, before I could continue, I heard a loud clang. My heart leaped in my chest, my hairs stood on end. I looked around the empty room, but there was no one there. Just the silence. Quickly, I went to tape up the rest of my fresh diaper. But before I could finish, I heard a familiar voice. “Get out of here, you burglar scum!” The voice called from another room. I shot up, my diaper still half-undone. “Sorry, I didn’t know this place was … well I thought everyone was dead.” “Are you trying to tell me you killed everyone? Good lord!” The voice said, growing closer. It mingled in with a gentle whirring, almost as if… “No I–” I went to protest, but just as the voice rounded the corner, I realized why it was so familiar. “A Mister Handy unit!” It must have been the one keeping the house clean. But something was wrong. The Mister Handy came through the door, from the darkness on the other-side. It’s voice was more crackly than the ones from 86, and one of its eyes was… well it wasn’t there at all. I backed up slowly. “Sowwy! I can leave ifu want?” I said, but the Mister Handy did not reply. It stopped for a moment, and moved its eye up and down, as if it was scanning me. “I-I-I-Intruders will not be t-t-tolerated!” It said, crackling. Suddenly, one of its arms arose with an attachment I’d never seen before–a buzzsaw. It whirred into motion, spinning sharp and deadly, and rushed toward me. “No!” I shouted, my paci fell out of my mouth, and not knowing what else to do I grabbed my gun. But I was too slow, before I could completely draw it, the Mister Handy’s buzzsaw launched at me. I moved out the way just in time, and the saw buried itself in the wall behind me. My gun fell to the floor. I reached for it, but the buzzsaw swooped in and I fell backwards with a crash. The Mister handy rotated, its eye focusing on me like the aperture of a camera. But when the robot tried to rush at me again, it found itself stuck for a moment, before lurching free. That gave me an idea. Quickly, carefully, I aligned myself with a light switch to my back. “Come on!” I shouted, which seemed to enrage the robot. “Intruders will not be tolerated!” Despite the strange nonchalance of its voice, it rushed at me again. I dove out the way, onto the carpet, and the Mister Handy shot straight into the wall. Its metal buzzsaw made contact with the light switch, and the wires inside. Electricity ran through it, arching and sputtering. The lights flickered on for the first time in decades, then sparked off again. I took the distraction to crawl madly for my gun. But I didn’t need it. The Mister Handy recoiled, its head spun wildly. “I-I-I-Intru-d-d-d-W-welcome home s-s-s-sir! I have ma-a-a-ade-t-traditional-carpet cleaner--s-shopping–the b-b-baby is asleep now–” and with a final garbled mess of words, its glowing eyes flickered off, and it went limp. I released a breath I forgot I was holding, and the silence returned again. *** Over the next hour, I dove into the Mister Handy’s wiring. Back in the vault, we hadn’t the resources to spare to send one with me, but if I could bring this one back, or even get it to help me out here… Thankfully, the robots were so important to our way of life in Vault 86, most people learn to take them apart and put them back together again before they turn eighteen. I was never the best at it, but I knew my way around them well enough. I decided to remove the buzzsaw attachment out of caution, and replaced it with a Rob-Co certified posable hand I found in the garage. Whilst I was at it, I renamed the unit Basil, after a pre-war TV-show they showed in the vaults. It was getting dark by the time I found the program settings, the sun was red in the sky, and golden in the treetops. The neon-green light of my pip-boy was all that lit me in the dark room. “Gardener, no. Shopkeeper, no. Driver, not that. Mmmmm, ahha–Babysitter.” I let the program run, and Basil suddenly burst into life again. Immediately, I backed up and held my gun at his eye. The robot rose quickly, and spun about itself. “Re-re-rebooting…” It stuttered, and went quiet. I worried that I had messed up the program for a moment, and quickly put my paci in my mouth for reassurance. Then, “Can I be of service, master?” The robot hovered, clearly waiting for instruction. I frowned. “What mode is cuwwently activated?” I asked through my pacifier. “Babysitter mode is activated, master. Where is said baby in need of sitting?” “Oh, I … right here.” I gestured to all of me. “Oh dear! Well we can’t have you in that state, can we master?” The Mister Handy moved towards me, and I flinched despite myself. “No…? What are you doing?” I asked nervously. “Why, changing your diaper of course, look at the state it’s in! I do say… wheoever put it on you needs a right bloody scolding” At Basil’s words, I looked down. With everything that had happened, I had forgotten to put the diaper on properly, and it still hung lopsided off me. I realized, too, that it had been a while since I last changed it, and I felt a familiar sensation below… “Hang on …” the robot paused, “What do good boys say?” “Pweese? Pweese would you change my diapee? And, could you pweese hurry? I fink I need to pee again.” “Of course!” The robot said, “And what a good little boy you are for remembering your manners!” Basil’s hand patted me on the head and I giggled. It was almost like being back in the vault. With some proper repairs, this unit could be good-as-new. I laid back down and clutched Mister Fancypants in my arms as the robot inspected my bare butt. Basil was much better at changing my diaper than I had been. For the most part, I just lay there and stared at the ceiling, sucking on my T-Rex paci as Basil cleaned me up. It felt good to be properly padded again, with the familiar bulk pushing my legs apart. Basil was a fast changer too, which was good, because I was growing desperate. Almost as soon as he had finished fastening the tapes, I let out a sigh, and felt my diaper expand as I wet it again. “My, my. Wet already! Do you need me to change you again, Master?” “No, I should be fine until the morning. Fankoo!” I slept surprisingly well that night. In fact, I slept almost like a baby. Maybe it was because I was so exhausted from the day, or maybe it was because I knew I had Basil and Mister Fancypants watching over me. Either way, I woke up early the next morning, ready to take on the day’s challenge–going further afield. Basil changed me out of a thoroughly soaked diaper, and together we made our way out. With a fresh diaper, Mister Fancypants, and Basil by my side, things were looking up. Perhaps, finally, I would be able to see what remained of the world, after all this time… END OF CHAPTER 1

A friend gets shrunk down to doll size by his friend. She decides to humiliate him and punish him in so many humiliating ways. Using him as her new toy.

Hello Again! I would like to present my follow up story to "Sally's Got a Brand New Baby Sister" and the further misadventures of Baby Cindy! This one is for all the mud butts out there. I see you. I love you. Please Enjoy! 💖 Chapter 1: Baby Cindy’s Very Stinky Saturday Morning Baby Cindy, a 20-something year old dressed in a frilly pink baby romper, was waddling through the most lush courtyard she’s ever seen, like something out of a hand drawn Disney cartoon. Surrounding Baby Cindy were Cinderella, Belle, and Rapunzel. Three Disney Princesses frolicking with her through the spacious backyard of a giant Princess castle, “Come along Baby Cindy” Rapunzel called out to the big baby, trying her best to keep up with her extra padding. Belle and Cinderella slowed down and held onto Baby Cindy’s hands as they all trotted along. “Oh my goodness, Can it be?!” Exclaimed Rapunzel, the Princesses and Baby Cindy stood in front of a towering fountain in the center of the courtyard, it was large and pushing out brown goop up into the air into a big pond. “It’s a chocolate fudge-y fountain!” squealed Belle. All of the Princesses walked up slowly and pulled out little silver spoons from their Princess clutches. Rapunzel scooped a dollop of fudge and brought the spoon to her lips and into her mouth. “This is delectable!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth while talking with it full. Baby Cindy approached excited but cautious, she wasn’t allowed to have anything that rich without permission from Mommy, but the Princesses wouldn't stop a big baby like her from a special treat. As she approached the edge, leaning in for a handful, she lost her balance and plopped face first into the massive pool of sticky warm fudge. Getting chocolate all over herself, she looked up at the Princess’s, All of them giggling but cooing at her mishap. “Baby had an oopsie!” Laughed Cinderella as Baby Cindy sat back up, getting strangely comfortable sitting in the mushy mess. Her paci dropped out of her mouth as she shoved a big handful into her waiting mouth. As it entered her mouth, she didn’t get the taste she expected, what she got was a lot stinkier. Baby Cindy groggily opened her eyes, her first sight being a still mobile with rainbow stars dancing above her head. She looked to her side into the dark nursery, she could see light peeking through her blinds. It was early in the morning, around the usual wake up routine for Baby Cindy, lying in a polyester Tinkerbell sleep shirt, an exposed diaper bottom, a pink sleeping bonnet and her favorite princess tiara pacifier. Sally, Baby Cindy’s “big” sister, was lying still inside a sleeping bag on the floor beside the crib. Every Friday night, Sally would join Baby Cindy in her nursery for a sleepover. Her presence made Baby Cindy smile, she rolled onto her belly and felt a squish against her bottom. She sniffed the air again and was able to surmise she had taken a nice big poopy in her sleep. Her exposed bottom half showed a discolored rear with the large load resting inside her huggies. Baby Cindy began to whimper, her cold and mushy behind wasn’t as comfy as when it had been fresher. Baby Cindy sat up in her crib onto her knees, her head popping out from the top of the bars. Baby Cindy started to bounce up and down on her cot, making fussy sounds behind the paci she kept between her lips. She kept up her docile temper tantrum, building to get her sisters attention. Finally, Sally let out a big yawn and opened her eyes, a pungent odor immediately entering her nose as she turned towards her big baby sister whimpering from the crib. “Oh my gosh sissy, you’re really poopy.” she held onto her nose and got out of the sleeping bag, wearing her own footie one piece, to tell their Mother, who had begun to hear the commotion over the baby monitor. Sally returned to the nursery with Joan, the girl’s Mommy, in tow. Wearing a satin purple robe and matching slippers, “Oh my gosh how did you two sleep in here last night?” Mommy chuckled as she approached the crib and nudged Baby Cindy around to get a peek at her behind. Her bottom unsubtly displaying the mess inside, “I think Baby Cindy ate a little too much hot fudge Mommy.” Sally also giggled, still holding her nose and smiling at Baby Cindy, still watching from the crib. Despite the smell, the two were certainly used to the diapers of a big baby. “Didn’t I warn you that it was too rich for her tummy?” Mommy rubbed Baby Cindy’s back, making her feel a little better. The previous night, Mommy had promised Baby Cindy and Sally some ice cream after they were good while Mommy got her work done that afternoon. Sally was served a hot fudge sundae and Cindy got plain vanilla while strapped in her high chair. Baby Cindy was jealous of her sister's sundae and Sally pleaded for Baby Cindy to get some hot fudge, doing her best to be a good sister, and Mommy caved. Sally asked Baby Cindy to let her know when to stop as she poured the fudge onto her ice cream, the hot fudge covered everything and Mommy warned that there was too much on for her sensitive big baby tummy to handle. But the girls didn’t listen and Baby Cindy literally got her just desserts. She bounced around the walls with her sister the remainder of the night until she fell asleep to Sally reading her a bedtime story during their sleepover. Leaving Baby Cindy to enter dreamland and the pamper packer factory. Mommy opened up the crib and gave Baby Cindy a kiss on her forehead as she crawled down. “Smelly girl” she chuckled as watched Baby Cindy slide onto the floor and made a b-line crawl over to Sally, wanting to give her big sister a “Good Morning” hug. Sally cooed and opened her arms to the big baby, trying to hold her breath as best she could. “Good morning Baby Cindy” she patted her baby sister’s back and let go to hold her nose again. “Sorry Baby Cindy but that diaper is stupendous stinky!” Sally said as she backed up a little next to Mommy. “Sally! What an impressive word!” Mommy exclaimed as she picked up Sally and gave her a squeeze. Baby Cindy looked up at Mommy and Sally from the floor, their giggles and nose holding becoming a moment of bonding for the ladies of the house, making Baby Cindy blush behind her smile. “I think it’s too early for me to face that diaper, How about you go watch cartoons and I’ll start breakfast, I’ll change your sister a little later.” Mommy suggested as she carried Sally out of the nursery. “But Baby Cindy looked a little uncomfy before,” Sally asked, looking up at Mommy. “She’ll survive, if she doesn’t sit with losing her potty training, she’ll wanna stay in diapers forever!.” Mommy smiled back at Cindy as she closed the gate to the nursery.“Hehe, I think that’s too late!” Sally giggled as she gave Baby Cindy a last wave before making her way downstairs. Mommy chuckled and followed behind, leaving Baby Cindy to her own devices. She took a seat from her crawling position and felt the mess press against her smooth, plump bottom. A relaxed grin stretched behind her pacifier as she turned her attention to her toy chest on the other side of her nursery, crinkling and smushing across the soft pink carpet. Baby Cindy had spent so much time with a hefty load pressed against her butt, the smell bothered her much less than anyone would expect someone her size. The smell had become a sign of comfort at this stage in Cindy’s babification, a blunt reminder of her demoted status in the household and one that excused her of all responsibility. Something she realized she didn’t mind. The nursery itself was given a Lilac-mahogany wall air freshener to fight back the odors, but the faint scent of a full diaper pail was always fighting that freshness. Baby Cindy saw one of her favorite stuffed toys on the floor by the chest. It was a lime green and pink caterpillar with little beads inside that made it rattle. Its soft plastic facial features were a favorite for Baby Cindy to nibble on at times. Baby Cindy crawled towards a corner of the room occupied by a pile of stuffed animals and toys. She flopped into them like a big pillow. As she played, Baby Cindy felt the push of her mess from inside her diaper. It was soft but still firm, staying mostly intact snugly against her cheeks. Baby Cindy lied gently hearing Mommy turn on some gentle baby music. The music gave her a new sense of calm. Suddenly the nursery music switched into something more poppy and sweet sounding. Mommy had put on a playlist of Baby Cindy’s favorite nursery rhymes to change up the vibe in the nursery. Baby Cindy started to crawl out of the stuffie pile, shaking her padded booty. With such a relaxed lifestyle, Baby Cindy has gained a thick layer of baby fat and then some. Mommy had to think of creative ways to help get Baby Cindy some exercise while keeping her lifestyle unaltered. The answer was nursery dance parties! Baby Cindy got on her feet and was bouncing to the catchy jingles Mommy queued up for her. Shaking her messy bottom around the room, The room shook from all her big baby energy being exerted in the second floor nursery. Baby Cindy had her poopy pampers bouncing for 10 more minutes when Mommy finally got upstairs to find her baby girl on her feet, unlatching the baby gate and clapping with the beat. “Shake that diaper, baby girl!” She giggled, approaching Cindy, holding her squirmy hips and giving her diaper a peak from behind before wincing, “Alright baby girl, let's get you cleaned up before breakfast.” Baby Cindy toddled obediently to her changing table, climbing up with the help of a stepstool, readily prepared for another standard diaper change. Mommy opened the messy girl’s diaper and took a deep breath and said, “Let’s do this!” She used a good number of wipes wrestling Baby Cindy’s mess down into the diaper and giving her girl a clean bottom. She worked her way up to Baby Cindy’s soft pen-is, wiping it clean. The dirty diaper was wrapped up tight and neat, dropping into the changing pail. Baby Cindy was changed into a fresh Tykables Unicorn with a heavy dosing of powder. “There’s the clean baby girl we all know and love!” Mommy cooed as she tickled her tummy and helped her down from the changing table. “Let’s go eat some yum yums” Mommy said rubbing her tummy, giving Baby Cindy a butt patt to exit the nursery and scoot down the stairs. She crawled into the kitchen, with Mommy close behind. Mommy made scrambled eggs and bacon for Sally and herself. Baby Cindy was served oatmeal, mixed with some applesauce, letting Baby Cindy feed herself today. With a “Mommy’s Hungry Girl” bib tied around her neck, Baby Cindy ignored the pink spoon beside her and scooped a big handful of oatmeal into her mouth, dribbling down her chin and getting all over her hand. Sally giggled at her sister’s messy eating while she used a pink fork. Mommy couldn’t help but laugh at Baby Cindy licking her fingers all grubby, “My my we have a messy baby on our hands.” She quipped as she took her empty plate in the kitchen sink. She started wiping off Baby Cindy with a wet paper towel as Sally put her own plate into the dishwasher. “Hehe, Katies gonna get Messy Baby Cindy today at her party.” She giggled with a devilish glee. “Don’t jinx it Sally! Your cousin Katie will flip if we bring Messy Baby Cindy to her birthday party!” She played up her pleading as she cleaned up Baby Cindy, who sat in her high chair fidgety around her face wiping . “I don’t know Mommy, I can just feel it” Sally prophesied. “Are you sure you’re not just smelling it Honey?” They both giggled and helped Baby Cindy step out of her high chair. “OK, I’m gonna get cleaned up, can you take a shower and get yourself ready?” Mommy checked in with Sally, “and then you can help me with your sister?” Sally nodded up and down as she walked into the living room, Baby Cindy instinctually crawled behind Sally and sat beside her. “Baby Cindy needs morning cartoons! She can watch them while we’re getting ready!” Sally called out to Mommy. “Ok, but she’s going to sit in her bouncer too.” Mommy agreed as she strapped Baby Cindy into her bouncer, hanging above her playpen in the back corner of the living room. Baby Cindy was secured and started to bounce up and down with delight, feeling like she was in her own little theme park ride.. Giggling as her toesies barely touched the padded floor of the playpen. “What do you wanna watch Baby Cindy?” Sally giggled as picked up the remote and went through all the smart tv streaming services. “Cocomelon!” Baby Cindy called out behind her paci. Mommy laughed at the request of her “eldest” daughter. But she was also impressed by how fast Sally was using the remote buttons. But Mommy had to object, “No no no, I can’t listen to that anymore. That’s a Messy Baby Cindy show. We need a Clean Baby Cindy show” Sally giggled and nodded in agreement, still shocked how much Cindy likes the most baby show she’s ever seen. “How about Bluey?” she asked the bouncing baby, who bounced up and down, nodding happily. “Bluey is a good choice.” Mommy agreed and gave Sally a head scratch before exiting the living room to go change, trusting Sally to take care of the rest. Sally switched to Disney+ and started to play Baby Cindy a Bluey episode. “Enjoy Baby Cindy, we’ll help you get ready when we’re done.” Sally put down the remote and skipped out of the room, leaving bouncy Baby Cindy to her show. Baby Cindy smiled swaying above the floor as she watched Bluey. She laughed and lightly babbled as she got investment from the characters, in the few stories she could still follow. As she bounced up and down, Baby Cindy could feel her tummy sloshing around with a familiar cramp, making a familiar rumbling sounds like the previous night in her crib. Baby Cindy immediately started to grunt and make pushies like always when she got that feeling. Which led to Baby Cindy marking her second poopy diaper of the day and it wasn’t even 10 AM. She felt the softer mound mush around her bouncy bum. Baby Cindy got a whiff of that freshly produced smell and giggled with glee a little, no one around to see. Bouncing and turning her attention back to Bluey, she laughed at the cartoon and her pacifier slipped out her lips, dangling across her tummy. She took drooly paci and shoved it back into her lips, bouncing around in a state of bliss in her mucky butt diaper.

Chapter 1: The Morning That Changed Everything Kris woke up in the middle of the night. He felt the need to use the bathroom, which was a good thing for him. He actually woke up this time! Kris hated the fact that he was a bedwetter. He doesn't know when or how it started; he only knows that every morning, he wakes up to a wet bed. So, for him, waking up in the middle of the night is a miracle. He quietly got out from under his covers and started climbing down the ladder of his bunk bed, which he and his older brother, Kyle, shared. Shockingly, he managed not to wake his brother this time. Nearly every night, if Kris tries to get out of bed to get cleaned up, his brother wakes up, confirms that Kris peed himself, then falls back to sleep annoyed at the interruption. That in of itself wouldn't be too bad. If only Kyle would leave it at that. But no, Kyle goes out of his way whenever this happens to ensure Mom and Dad knew that Kris had an accident. So, to get away this time felt amazing, even if there wasn't an accident. He wouldn't have to confront his brother about it. Kris snuck out of the shared bedroom, past the girl's room across the hall, and went down the stairs to the bathroom, sitting at the bottom on the right. He did it! He made it to the potty in the middle of the night! Good thing, too, because he had to poop as well. Which was probably the reason he woke up this time. He hardly ever needed to do that so late in the evening. Proud that he managed to make it in time, Kris snuck his way back upstairs and into his bed, all without waking up anyone. He felt so proud of himself, he knew that tomorrow was going to be a good day. He would wake up to a clean bed in the morning, and hangout with his friends at Church in the afternoon. Kris loved that it was a Sunday. He knew his Mom would make a delicious breakfast for them all to enjoy. He wasn't a huge fan of going to Church every Sunday. It always felt boring to him. Playing with his friends before and after service started was always a blast, but sitting through the sermon felt like a chore. He woke up feeling excited to take on the day. Only, something didn't seem right. He was confused; why did it feel like his bed was wet? He made it to the bathroom last night, didn't he? He must have just had to go a second time without realizing it. he was frustrated that he had still managed to have an accident, wishing his trip to the toilet would have been enough to save him from his usual daily embarrassment. He started to remove his comforter so he could get out of bed and deal with his accident like he had done thousands of times before when suddenly, an odd sensation hit him like a ton of bricks. "No. I didn't. That's not fair," Kris thought, as he realized with confusion that he pooped himself in his sleep. He didn't get up to go to the bathroom; it was all just a dream. A cruel, unfair dream. Kris looked down and around his bunk briefly to check if Kyle had seen him start getting up. Maybe he could wait until he left their room and get cleaned up afterward. "Let's go, dude. Breakfast is on the table," Kyle called up to his brother from below his bed, as he finished putting on his socks for the day. "I'll be down in a minute," Kris replied, trying to remain calm. He tried to play things cool, acting as natural as he could. He hoped he could buy some more time, convincing his brother that everything was okay. "Well, hurry up and get dressed," Kyle replied impatiently. He knew Kris was a slacker, and would sleep in another two hours if they let him. "I'm gonna take a shower first." Kris tried to come up with an excuse as to why he would be late to breakfast. Knowing that if he went down in soiled pajama pants, his Dad would be furious. "Why?" Kyle shot back. They normally took showers in the evening. Kris saying he would take one first thing in the morning was odd. Unless, he had another accident. "He wet himself again. Didn't he?" Kyle already knew the truth. He was so frustrated sharing a bedroom with his little brother. He had been wetting himself for years now, and never really got the hang of nighttime training. He couldn't stand the fact that their room always smelled of urine. He's eight years old for crying out loud. Sam wasn't even wetting the bed anymore and she was six! "I just wanna take a quick shower, is all." Kris knew his brother probably saw through his lie by now. But held onto hope, that just maybe he would let this one slide. "You had another accident, didn't you?" Kyle poked, already knowing the answer. "...Yeah" Kris replied defeatedly. "Maybe he won't find out about how bad it is." Kris knew that he was busted. At this point, he just wanted to hide, and save himself from further embarrassment. "Just get changed. You can take a shower after breakfast if you really need to." Kyle was annoyed that he had to share a room with such a baby. "I'd really prefer to take one first." Kris's face burnt red as he blushed. He knew he was out of luck. There was no way his brother didn't know the current state of his situation at this point. "Why? It's not like you pooped yourself like a baby." "Oh my gosh, is that what that smell is? I thought he just farted or something." Kyle's face scrunched up in disgust. Kris just remained silent, not wanting to reply. His family has a strict no-lying policy, so he couldn't say he didn't, but he didn't want to admit it. *sigh* "I'll let them know you'll need an extra few minutes. But hurry up," Kyle told Kris, realizing what had happened, and that Kris would never admit to it. "Thanks..." Kris felt broken. He was grateful for his brother, thinking he would cover for him. But, the humiliation of his brother's words, and the state of his pajamas made him feel small and foolish. He thought he made it. He thought his parents would be proud of him for staying dry, but instead of just wetting his bed, he used it like a toilet. Chapter 2: Morning breakfast conversations Kris took the fastest shower of his life. He wanted to clean up this mess before anyone else had the chance to find out. He was lucky that the girls were already downstairs by the time he left the room, and the bathroom being at the bottom of the stairs was an added bonus saving him from the potential humiliation. His shower over, Kris bundled up his soiled and soaked pajamas into a ball. He hoped he could sneak them back upstairs before anyone saw them. He could get them cleaned later, first thing was not to let anyone find out. "Kris! Hurry up, bud. We are waiting on you," Kim, Kris' mom, shouted from the kitchen after hearing the bathroom door open. "Okay, I'll be down in a second, just need to put my pajamas back real quick," Kris replied, knowing he had to hurry before someone saw his clothes and questioned deeper on why he took a shower in the morning. "Don't!. Just put them in the laundry room. I'll get them washed later today." His mom replied. "That's odd? Normally, she has us all bring down all the laundry at once. Does she already know about my accident, or was she just trying to save me on time?" Kris knew he couldn't argue; he wanted to, but it wouldn't make sense. He might be able to play it off as him grabbing the rest of the laundry, but knowing the family was waiting on him to eat breakfast wasn't likely to work. Frustrated with the situation, he quickly took his bundled-up clothes and speed walked past the dining room to get to the back of the house towards the laundry room, hoping no one saw his soiled pajamas. Kris returned to the dining room, sitting in his usual spot next to his dad, across from his brother, with his younger sister Sam on his right. Everyone was in their usual spots. Something felt different. It felt like they were all looking at him, judging him. He hoped it was all in his head, but there was no way for him to tell. He was already self-conscious about what happened earlier with his brother. He knew he was a little late to breakfast, too, but that was nothing new; it was a common occurrence for him when it came to weekends. "French toast, yum! Thank you, Mom," Kris tried to distract himself with the world's best breakfast in his mind. His favorite part was covering his French toast in powdered sugar. It might be super unhealthy, but he didn't care. He was eight years old. He just wanted to eat something yummy. "Are we all ready to dig in?" Kim asked, making sure Kevin, their Dad, was ready to give the okay. He ran the house, so what he says goes. "Yep, let's dig in," he replied, grabbing his utensils and the first few slices from the stack of toast in the middle of the table. Everyone quickly followed suit to get their food. Kris had his classic white circle from all the powdered sugar around his plate. Kevin, seeing everyone enjoying the meal, and getting a few slices in his belly, decided to start some morning chatter. "So, how did everyone sleep?" "I slept great!" Tammi, the oldest of the four, started everyone off. She normally felt silenced due to their family dynamic; with "men running the house," so anytime she got a chance to speak up and be first, she wanted to take it. She wanted to be a role model for her siblings, especially for her younger sister. "I slept like a baby!" Sam chimed in next. Her words felt like a sharp pain in Kris's ears after his brothers comment this morning. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment at the remark. "I had this really cool dream. Do you wanna hear it?" She was the youngest, and always excited to go off on these wild dreams. Her imagination was hyper active, which made it easy for her to play by herself or with Kris at times, but also made for the longest stories ever. "Not right now, honey. Let's wait until everyone else goes first. Then, you can tell us all about it." Kevin told her. He didn't want to break her spirit about it, but he also knew once she got started, it might take an hour before she would finish. "Okay! How about you, Kyle? How did you sleep?" Sam poked, trying to get everyone through so she could share her story. She knew Kyle would be quick; he wasn't one to go into his dreams or be boring and talk about other things. "I slept okay," He replied. Kris could feel his heart racing. It nearly felt like it was trying to pound out of his chest. He was terrified at the thought that Kyle would tattle on him. Kyle nearly did every time he had an accident, it was almost like it was his mission to tell Mom and Dad whenever it happened. Would today be the same? "That's great. How about you, Kris? Did you sleep well?" Kevin knew Kyle was a young man with few words. He wanted to get to Kris, who he was wondering about. He had a feeling Kris had an accident this morning, otherwise why else would he have taken a shower so early in the day? Kris noticed a slight smile on Tammi's face. Kyle had his head down, looking at his food, and a small head shake. Kris had a feeling Tammi had found out what happened last night. He didn't know for sure, and wasn't about to admit to everyone at the breakfast table that he pooped himself last night. He didn't even want to admit when he wet himself, so this was a hundred times worse, he'd rather take this secret to the grave if he could. "Uhhh... Yea! I slept well. I even managed to wake up last night to go to the potty," Kris felt proud of himself, he knew he still had an accident last night, but the thought that he had made it to the bathroom, gave him a feeling of accomplishment. He might have thought it was a dream, but he also had no way to tell for sure if it was or not. "Liar! No, you didn't. Not even close. You pooped yourself in your sleep." Kyle snapped back, mad that his brother refused to own up to his accidents. "Kristopher!" Kim, shouted at him. The girls practically spat out their food at this reveal. They knew he wet the bed, he did it nearly every night without fail. But pooping himself? Only babies did things like that. Everyone was a little shocked that Kris didn't just own up to it. He normally tried to hide his bed wetting, but this was different, instead he tried to lie about it and claim he used the potty in the middle of the night. "Is this true?" Kevin's face was stern. He was mad that Kris would lie about this. Kris knew how he felt about lying. Normally, Kris would own up to having an accident, even if he wet himself on purpose, he would admit it. So why not this time? "Yeah..." Kris replied, defeated. There was no recovering from his brother's accusation. Kris could see his Dad was furious with this information. "What is up with this kid!? He uses his bed like his own personal toilet. This is insane!" Kevin thought. He was at his wits end with Kris's bed-wetting issue. They've talked about it hundreds of times, each one he claimed: "he didn't know what happened." "Dude! What happened?" Kevin was clearly irritated. "I don't know," Kris replied sheepishly. He really had no idea why he kept wetting the bed. He thought he did wake up in the middle of the night, but he couldn't dispute the fact that he woke up soaked, and covered in his own poop. "That's not acceptable." Kevin was livid at this point. He's had to buy several packs of underwear for Kris, each one to replace the pair he ruined from all his accidents. "I don't know why Daddy, I just didn't wake up." Kris sank in his chair slightly. He didn't know what to do or say. "Didn't wake up, huh? It sounds like he just didn't want to get up. How can this kid be so lazy and okay with peeing himself?" Kevin couldn't stand Kris's behavior. "So instead, you thought you'd lie about it and say you 'used the bathroom'?" Kevin wanted the truth out of his son. He wanted him to see the error of his ways, and that lying about it was wrong. He should know better. He needs to know better. Unsure how to answer, Kris just sat there in silence. *sigh* "Fine, let's go clean it up. You're going to watch how this is done. I'm sick of cleaning your bed for you. You're not a toddler anymore, and I'm too old for this." Kevin instructed Kris "Okay." Kris knew he was in trouble. But he didn't know what to do. It's not like he meant to poop himself in bed. All he knew was his dad was mad, and to not make things worse if he could avoid it. Chapter 3: The clean-up "Strip your bed. Everything needs to come off of it to clean up this mess." Kevin instructed his son. He left to get the spot shampooer from the cleaning closet, while Kris began to pull off his wet and soiled bedding. He felt a small tear forming in his eye. He never meant to make a mess; he didn't want this to be a part of his life, but it seemed like he had no choice in the matter. He felt completely humiliated at the situation he found himself in. That dream felt so real; he was positive he made it to the bathroom. "Did you get everything off?" Kevin spoke, breaking Kris's train of thought as he returned with the shampooer. "Yes, sir." Kris wanted to be as respectful towards his Dad as he could. Maybe, if he were lucky, his Dad wouldn't be any harder on him than he already was. "Good, now come here and watch how you get this thing ready." Kevin set the shampooer on the floor, placing the cleaning solution next to it. He didn't want to keep doing this, and after throwing out his old mattress, he didn't want to buy a new one either. Kris walked over to his Dad, standing next to him as his Dad poured the cleaner into the shampooer. "Only fill it to this line with the cleaner. The rest is warm water," Kevin instructed. "I don't want to have to keep doing this." Kris stood there in silence, slightly nodding at his Dad's words. "When will you grow up and stop peeing in your bed?" Kevin asked rhetorically. He knew Kris wasn't going to reply, and even if he did, it would just make him mad. Again, Kris didn't reply. How could he respond? It's not something he is in control of. *Sigh* "I guess that was more of a rhetorical question anyway. Alright, stay here and watch." Kevin positioned Kris in the doorway of his bedroom. He still had a rough line of sight but couldn't see too much of what his Dad was doing. "You really did a number on it this time. Not only did you soak it, but you managed to smear your poop so much it seeped through the sheets and onto the mattress." It was clear to see the look of disgust on Kevin's face. Kris felt embarrassed at his Dad's remark. He was used to feeling embarrassed whenever they talked about his accidents, but hearing his Dad's words while watching him clean up after his mess only made him want to hide behind the door frame. "I'm sorry," Kris said sorrowfully, looking down at his feet. "Sorry for what? Treating your bed like it's your own personal toilet?" Kevin snapped back, pausing his efforts to clean up the mattress. There was nothing he felt Kris could say that would make things better. Kris had no reply. He just stared at his Dad. He knew he couldn't say anything. He never intended to wet his bed; he never thought of it as a toilet, but there was no way his Dad would believe him. Not when he was mad like this. Five minutes into the cleaning process, Kris noticed his Dad had shifted focus from where most of the damage was done to a more whole-bed approach. Kris felt a little relief that this soon would be behind them. However, he also noticed that he had a growing pressure building up in his bladder. He needed to pee soon. He didn't want to interupt his Dad, but he also didn't want to stand here, bored, forever needing to pee. "Daddy?" Kris spoke up over the noise of the shampooer. "What?" Kevin switched off the machine to listen to what his son had to say. His tone made it clear he was still angry. "Can I go to the bathroom?" Kris asked sheepishly. He wanted to get out of this, but more importantly, he wanted to relieve himself. "Really? No apology, just asking to go to the bathroom after what you did to your bed?" Kevin thought to himself, upset at the thought that his son just wanted to get out of watching him clean up his mess. "Why don't you just go in your bed? After all, you seem to think it's a bathroom anyway." Kevin snapped back at his son in frustration. He couldn't believe he had the guts to try and get out of taking responsibility for ruining his bed. Kris wasn't sure what to do. He stood there frozen, afraid that he would just make things worse. He could do what his Dad told him, but that didn't make sense. His Dad was cleaning his bed, so he couldn't use it. Even if he did, he would be mortified to do so. He wanted to use the toilet. His other option was just to stand there waiting for his Dad to change his mind. Hopefully, he would. Each second there was silence between them felt like an eternity. The longer he waited to reply, the more likely he would make his Dad angrier. Trying to avoid making his Dad further upset only made this decision and his dad's comment all the harder. What is the right decision? Is there a right decision? "He's cleaning my bed. I can't go in it. Should I pee my pants instead?" Kris thought, torn on what he should do, not wanting to say a single word as that might upset his dad even more. "Well?!" his dad asked angrily. "You're just trying to get out of watching how to clean this up. Either hold it until we are done or pee your pants like the baby you've been acting like." Kevin had enough at this point after years of trying to get him dry during the night. His occasional daytime accidents didn't help. Especially since it was done on purpose each time. When confronted about it, he would admit he peed or pooped his pants on purpose either because he didn't want to stop playing or to try to get his siblings in trouble. It might have been a while since the last time that happened, but it felt like it was yesterday with all of his nighttime accidents. Kris blushed. Kyle calling him a baby was rude, but he could brush it off. Hearing it come from his Dad stung a little harder. He hoped he could hold it, but with all of the embarrassment and pressure from his dad, he wasn't sure. He felt he had to pee pretty bad, but was that because he did, or was it because he was trying to find a reason to avoid his dad for a little while? Kevin climbed off the ladder rather than starting to get back to cleaning. Kris felt his heart skip a beat as his Dad approached with the shampooer. "I need to empty this thing." He held up the shampooer. Kris could see the dirty tank on the shampooer; its water looked yellowy brown. He hadn't realized that his accidents had caused that much damage. "Stay here. You are not to leave this spot until I get back," Kevin instructed his son. "Okay," Kris replied. He wanted to follow his Dad, taking the chance to go pee. He was trying his best to hide the fact that he was starting to do a little potty dance. If his Dad had noticed, it would only make things worse and annoy him even more. Kevin left the room, leaving Kris alone with his thoughts. None of the other kids came over to check on him. Even having a conversation with Kris might have caused their Dad to get more upset, and no one wants to get switched. Just the thought of the plastic rod being used to spank them, was enough to send a shiver down their spines. Kris felt a huge pressure lift from his shoulders. His Dad's exit from the room gave him the chance to breathe. Kris wasn't sure if he was going to be punished or not today for what happened or if this was going to be the worst of it. All he knew was the sooner this could be over, the better. "Alright, this should be the last batch. Do you want to do it this time?" Kevin asked as he walked back into the room. Hoping his son would take responsibility this time. "Can I use the bathroom first?" Kris asked. He felt he wouldn't be able to hold on too much longer. He wasn't sure why his bladder was acting up so much, he just knew that he had to go, and he didn't want to shampoo his bed. *Sigh* "You're just trying to get out of doing work again. No. You can hold it until we are done. This will only take a few more minutes; wait here and watch." Kevin wasn't buying the fact that his son had to use the bathroom. He noticed his "potty dance" but wasn't buying that it was real. Kevin climbed back up the ladder to Kris's bed and started shampooing again. "I don't know if I can hold it much longer," Kris thought. Kris was doing his best to hold it in, he didn't want to do a potty dance, but he couldn't help himself. He placed his hand between his legs, trying to hold it in. Kevin was doing his best to ignore it. He knew if he addressed it, he would lose it, blowing his top off and yelling at Kris. He didn't want to do that, he was trying to not be a jerk, but the situation was really pushing his limits. Kris wasn't hopping from foot to foot but was shifting his weight from foot to foot now and then. Just enough to try and help, but not enough to become annoying. Kris kept trying his best, but after several minutes he reached the breaking point. He felt a small squirt of pee make its way to his pants. Dampening his underwear. It hadn't leaked through to his pants, but he knew he couldn't take it anymore. Another spurt quickly followed; afraid he was going to wet himself; Kris spoke up. Asking one more time would be better than just wetting himself in front of his Dad. "Daddy!" Kris shouted over the shampooer so his dad could hear him. "What now!?!" Kevin shouted back at his son as he turned off the shampooer. The pure anger on his Dad's face and the tone of voice used, full of anger and frustration sent a shiver down Kris's spine. It was too much for him. He was so scared; he lost his ability to speak, and... *hiss* He lost his control and started peeing his pants uncontrollably. "Dude!" Kevin shouted, "You've got to be kidding me. What are you two?!" Kevin lost it at this point. He quickly climbed down the ladder and walked over to his son. With how angry he was, he looked like he was ten feet tall and could bend a building in half if he wanted to. He grabbed Kris by the wrist and started dragging him toward the bathroom. Kris felt the tight grip on his wrist. He stumbled here and there, trying to keep up with his dad as he was pulled along. Kris felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He had no idea what would happen now. All he knew was this was the maddest he had ever seen his dad so far. "That's it, I've had enough. Fine! You want to pee yourself like a baby. You'll wear a diaper like one, too!" Kevin's shouting was heard throughout the whole house while he pulled Kris toward the bathroom. Kris's eyes were huge hearing this. His Dad threatened to put him in diapers before, but this was the first time it seemed like he was serious about getting them. Chapter 4: To the Store "Take a shower and get yourself cleaned up," Kevin told Kris, slightly tossing him into the bathroom. He felt furious that Kris would pee his pants like that. Kevin closed the door behind him, giving Kris some time to collect himself and clean up. "Unbelievable. He peed his pants. What is wrong with him? Yeah, he said he had to go. I bet he peed himself on purpose, hoping to get out of needing to finish cleaning his bed." Kevin's thoughts ran wild. He knew he was angry and likely wasn't thinking straight, but he followed through with what he told his kids. If they were throwing a fit at the store, they'd leave everything behind and go home until they learned to behave. He wanted them to learn that their word is their bond. Knowing he spoke out of anger didn't change the fact that he said he would get Kris diapers. Kris felt devastated. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the wet patch running down the front of his pants. He never felt more embarrassed in his life. He had wet his pants a few times after potty training, but that was either in the snow so no one could tell or when he didn't want to stop playing. This was the first time he accidentally wet himself in a long time. His Dad looked so angry. He'd never seen his Dad like that before. All he could hope for now was that the time it took for him to take a shower would be enough for his dad to calm down. "Kyle, go grab some clothes for your brother," Kevin spoke coldly. He wasn't going to let this instance with Kris affect the way he treated the others, but he also knew they needed to leave sooner. The quicker they all got ready, the better. "Girls, could you get the Bibles ready? We're heading to Church a little early today. We need to make a stop first." "Okay, Daddy!" both girls replied, quickly getting up from the couch and preparing for Church. Their family attended a small home-based church with about five families. They found that there was more community that way. Church service started at 11 a.m. on Sundays, and it was currently 9:10 am. The drive usually only took 30 minutes. Giving them only 30 minutes or so to shop if they left by 9:30 or 10. "Kris, you better hurry up with that shower. We're leaving for Church in 30 minutes. If you're not out in 15, I'll come in there turn off the hot water," Kevin said, trying to incentivize him. Kris quickly hopped into the shower and gave himself a quick but thorough cleaning He didn't know how long it took, all he knew was his Dad hadn't came in. So it must have been under 15 minutes. Stepping out of the shower, Kris heard his brother, Kyle, knock on the door. "I got you a change of clothes." "Thanks, be there in a second." Kris felt grateful that his brother had gotten him some clothes to change into. He quickly dried himself off, and opened the door a crack to grab the clothes. Luckily for him, it looked like Kyle had picked something he would enjoy wearing. Kris got dressed and sat on the toilet for a few moments, trying to calm down from the craziness this day turned out to be. Kris's moment of peace was short-lived as he heard another knock on the door. "Don't forget to use the bathroom before we leave. I don't want you peeing yourself while we are at the store." Kevin spoke briefly on the other side of the door. He wanted to hit the road soon. He always hated it when they were late. In his mind, if you're on time, you're late. "I will," Kris felt numb to his Dad's remark, already feeling destroyed for the day. The jabs felt like nothing; he was already miserable, and no one could make him feel any worse. He flipped up the lid on the toilet and tried to get anything and everything out. But nothing came out except for a few small farts. Not wanting to delay them, he quickly finished up and got ready to leave for Church. Kris opened the bathroom door and looked around, trying to see if his Dad was around. Not seeing any sight of him, he ran over to his mom. "Why are we going to the store before Church? I thought shopping was next week?" Kris hoped the reasoning wasn't what he thought it was. "I don't know, bud. Dad wants to make a quick stop before we get to Church this time," Kim lied. She knew that Kevin finally lost it and wanted to get Kris diapers, but she didn't have the heart to tell him. She secretly hoped that Kevin would just drop the subject but knew that wasn't likely to happen. Kris knew he was on the smaller side for his age, weighing only 46 lb. and measuring 3ft 8 inches. He was mad that he got placed back in a booster seat; now, he and Sam were both stuck in them. For a short while, he was able to go without them, finally feeling like the older brother to his sister, despite his accidents. The roll back to a booster seat, was a huge shot to his ego. The laws had changed to be based on weight or height limits instead of age, so he had no choice in the matter, yet another thing stolen from him. With everyone ready, the family started to pile into the car. Kris crawled into the back seat next to his younger sister, Sam. Even though he often had trouble buckling himself in, he could still manage it himself. "Everyone buckled?" Kevin asked from the driver's seat. "Yes," all the kids replied. Kevin was happy that all the kids managed to get buckled and settled in without issues for a change. He felt a small smile forming on his face. "Man, if only they behaved this well all the time," Kevin thought, but he knew they were only behaving because he was angry. The drive to the store was uneventful, which shocked Kevin. Normally, they have some type of argument, but it was total peace back there for a change. Kris sat in the back, trying to stay calm, but his nerves were getting the best of him. He didn't want to disappoint his dad or cause any more trouble. He just hoped that everything would be okay. Kevin pulled into a parking spot at the megastore. Kris tried to keep his anxiety in check as he unbuckled and made his way out of the car, following his family into the store. He knew that his dad was probably going to buy diapers for him. "Kyle, could you grab a cart for us, please?" Kevin asked, his tone softened. The drive over was enough of a break to take off the edge. Kyle wasted no time grabbing the cart and quickly ran back over with it. Kris followed his Dad and family into the store. He kept his eyes down, hoping no one would notice him. He felt small and vulnerable, like a little kid. He noticed that they were heading straight toward the baby section. His heart raced as his worst fear was becoming a reality. They were really going to buy diapers for him. He felt a lump form in his throat as they approached the diaper aisle. "Daddy, I don't need diapers," Kris said, his voice shaking a little. "Sorry, bud, I told you we would get them. Besides, your actions lately would say otherwise." Kevin replied, trying to sound gentle. "They'll be for you to wear at night, just in case. None of us want to keep cleaning your bed." Kris felt his face turn red. He didn't want to wear diapers like a baby. He knew he was a big kid. "Okay, let's see what we have here," Kevin began scanning the shelves, trying to find out which ones would fit him. He picked out a few different options. He found some nighttime pull-ups and some size 7 diapers that looked like they might do the trick, even if it was just to scare him into behaving better. "These should do the trick," Kevin handed Kris each box and package from the shelves he wanted to buy. He kept the selection semi-limited, only grabbing three different styles. Kris saw his sisters giggle slightly as he placed the box of size 7 diapers into the cart. He felt tears forming in his eyes. He didn't want to wear diapers. He wanted to be a big boy like his siblings. He knew that his dad was doing what he thought was best for him. Even if it made Kris feel embarrassed and small. As they checked out and headed back to the car, Kris kept his head down, hoping that no one would notice the boxes of diapers in their cart. He felt ashamed and humiliated. He knew that his dad loved him, but days like today made it a little hard for him to be close to him. He tried to focus on the thought of playing with his friends when they got to Church, but knowing that the diapers were easily visible in the back of their Suburban made him feel nervous that someone would see it. Chapter 5: Stressed Out Kris tried to keep his emotions under control as they pulled up to the home where their Church was held. It was a small, cozy place with a white picket fence and a large backyard. Kris was relieved to see that all of the other families were already there. There was no way anyone would see the diapers then, as they were the furthest away from the house at this point. He had a feeling his Dad was upset that they were late, but he couldn't see any signs if he was or not. Kris grabbed his things, including his Dad's bible, racing his younger sister down the stairs around the side of the house. They had a friendly competition between them over who could get into the house the fastest. They always had to slow down slightly as they approached the sliding glass door, not wanting to damage it or the host family's home. Entering the house, they set their bibles on the seats. They wanted to play with the other kids, but before they got the chance, they heard the other parents call them back to get ready for service to start. Kris felt disappointed; he had hoped he would have gotten a chance to play a little bit, at least before service started. His family joined them shortly after the kids returned and took their seats. Kris wanted to be frustrated, but he knew he was the cause of their lateness. With everyone in their seats, the service started. Kris's heart sank as they took prayer request for the week. He couldn't believe his ears when his Dad asked for them to pray about Kris's bedwetting problem. Kris wanted to sink away in his seat, to just disappear. One of his friends at Church knew about his issue, but that was because they had sleepovers all the time. Out side of him, he didn't think any of the other kids knew about it. He had to fight his emotions to just run away and hide, as he heard some of the other kids giggle, quickly being hushed by their parents. Kris knew he could do nothing about the situation. He tried to bury his face into his bible, and song book every chance he got. He followed along with the lesson like he always did. Zoning out mostly, he joined, singing along with the songs, but everything else felt like a bore. Before he knew it, the service was over, and the families were chatting about their week. It was one of the things they did to connect a little bit more. Kris both enjoyed and hated this part. He counted how many families were left before they were finally done. But every time it got to them in the past, he would get excited. He loved it when his parents talked about him and his siblings. They normally just talk about the good highlights, which always makes him feel special. He felt his anxiety rise as his Dad started to talk about their week. He was worried that he would talk about his bed wetting again. He was shocked that his Dad hand't brought it up again. Kris was relieved that service was finally over, but he felt tired. Everything was stressing him out, and the boredom of service didn't help. He wanted to just leave and go home, forgetting this nightmare ever happened. Unfortunately for him, his parents wanted to stick around for a while, chatting with the other adults. Kris began panicking. Would the other kids pick on him for wetting the bed? Would any of them find out about the diapers? He couldn't stop thinking about the box of diapers in the car. He felt embarrassed and ashamed as if he was somehow less of a person because he needed them. "Hey Kris! You wanna come play with us?" Breaking from his thoughts, he was hesitant, worried they might just want to pick on him. Play house or something and make him the baby. Kris looked at his friend, who had broken him out of his worries. It was Ben. Ben had already known about his accidents, so there was no way he would be planning something. Pushing his worries aside, Kris ran over to play with his friend for a while, distracting himself. Kris felt normal as he played with the other kids. No one said anything or even implied anything about his bed-wetting. He thought one of his siblings would have said something, but it seemed like they were content just having fun with the other kids. "Time to clean up." Kris heard his Mom call down the hallway. He felt bummed that they couldn't play longer but was happy he at least got a chance to have some fun before they had to leave. He grabbed his things and his Dad's bible, just like when he came in. Walking out the door and heading back up to the car was less of a race. Kris suddenly felt his Dad's hand on his shoulder, standing behind him. "You okay, bud?" He asked reassuringly. His Dad wasn't angry anymore. Kris could see a genuine interest in him, and how he was doing. Kris nodded, but he wasn't feeling okay at all. He felt ashamed for needing diapers, and he was sure that everyone knew it. Kevin placed his hand on Kris's back and gently nudged him on. "Come on, let's go home,". Kris climbed into the backseat of the car, feeling small and defeated as his eyes made contact with the box of diapers in the back. He buckled himself in and watched as his family got settled in the front. They drove away from Church. Kris couldn't shake the feeling that he was different from everyone else. He didn't want to be a burden, but he couldn't help feeling like he was. Kevin glanced back at Kris in the rearview mirror. "Hey, I know this is tough," he started. "But you did great at Church today. We'll get this bedwetting thing under control in no time, okay?" Kris didn't respond. He just looked out the window, trying to hold back tears. He knew that this wasn't going to go away overnight. He wanted it to, but he had no control over the situation. Kris was glad when they finally got home. He took his bible inside. He thought his parents were going to make him take the diapers in the house as well, or take them upstairs, but they hadn't said anything. Exhausted from the lack of sleep and from the emotional turmoil of the day. Kris decided he was going to take a nap. He normally didn't like taking a nap, not even in the car, but today. He needed it. He made his way upstairs, and climbed up into bed. His mattress was still slightly damp from cleaning it. Not wanting to get cold, he grabbed an extra blanket he kept in their closet, and placed it down on the mattress. He lay there, staring up at his ceiling. He had posters up for different events they went to. He felt lost, and alone. Like no other kid knew what it was like to be like him. He felt he was the only one in the world with these issues. But, as he lay there, he remembered that there are millions of other kids all around the world. There had to be other kids like him. He knew there was no way he was actually alone. Even with how his Dad acted, he knew he still loved him. Slowly, he started to feel a little better. He knew that things wouldn't be easy, but he also knew that he had his family to help him through. He closed his eyes, tired of thinking, tired of remembering, tired from being tired, and slowly drifted off to sleep. Little did he know, it was a bad idea to have fallen asleep... Chapter 6: Not Again… Kris shifted in his bed, slowly waking up from his nap. Stretching his arms up after getting some much-needed shuteye, he froze, reality shattering in with the awareness of another bedwetting episode. "Not again," Kris thought to himself. The familiar scent of his embarrassment was in the air. He climbed off his ladder, connected to his top bunk, and over to his dresser after yet another accident. Trying to hide his shame. "This is the third time today." Kris thought with defeat. "This isn't fair; I don't want to wear diapers." Kris opened his dresser drawer to get a new pair of underwear and clean pants. "You can't be serious," He whispered while looking through the drawers, franticly looking for some fresh underwear and pants, only to find none. Not even the pair of pants he usually doesn't wear. "Where are they?" Kris changed his focus to the dirty laundry, but there was nothing there either. Kris begins to tear up. "No. It's not fair. Where are they? I can't even find pajama pants." While Kris was sleeping, Kim asked Kyle to grab all his pants and underwear. This way, if he had an accident, he wouldn't be able to hide and lie about it. Feeling flustered on what to do, Kris stood there, contemplating the next steps. The thought of going downstairs in his soaked pants made his stomach churn with embarrassment. The alternative, staying upstairs to avoid the potential judgment from his family, seemed equally daunting. It would only be a matter of time before someone came up to check on him; then what would he do? After an internal debate, Kris took a deep breath and decided to face the consequences. He carefully headed down the stairs, each step accompanied by the hushed rustle of fabric. As he approached the bottom, a knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. Kris's older brother, Kyle, was in the living room with the rest of the family, engrossed in the TV. As Kris cautiously emerged, Kyle's eyes widened, and a mischievous grin played on his lips. "Hey, Kris! Nice pants! Did you have a little accident?" Kyle called out, his voice carrying through the room. A flush of embarrassment painted Kris's cheeks as he attempted to play it cool, doing his best to shield his pants from prying eyes. The living room fell silent, the TV momentarily forgotten as the family turned their attention to Kris's descent. "Seriously, Kris? Did you pee yourself?" Tammi, his older sister, chimed in with a teasing tone. Kris winced but nodded reluctantly, "Yeah, okay, I did. Can we not make a big deal out of it?" The silence lingered briefly before erupting into laughter and an onslaught of teasing from the family. "Dude! Did you forget how to use the bathroom or something?" Kevin, his father, spoke up, feeling frustrated. Kyle added, "Good thing we got you those diapers, Kris! Looks like you can use one right about now." "No..." Kris began, his voice trailing as he realized he had no ground to stand on with his current state. His shoulders slumped in defeat. His attempt to argue back was halted by the reality of his soaked pants and the amused expressions of his family. He shot a glare at Kyle, who was reveling in the moment. Sensing Kris's distress, Kim stepped forward; concern etched across her face. "Come on, Kris. Let's get you cleaned up." She motioned for him to follow her. As they retreated to the bathroom, Kris couldn't help but complain, "Where did all of my pants go? I couldn't find anything!" Kim sighed, understanding the frustration in Kris's voice. "I asked Kyle to gather your clothes, sweetie. These accidents are just something we're going to have to work through together. Hiding them won't help." Kris shot back, "But it's embarrassing! I don't want everyone knowing!" Kim knelt to Kris's eye level, her tone soft but firm. "Honey, we're a family. We support each other. You're not alone in this; we're here to help you. Now, let's focus on cleaning you up, and then we can talk about how to make things a bit easier for you, okay?" Kris simply nodded, still having a heavy heart. As Kim started helping Kris change into dry clothes, she suggested, "Maybe, for now, you could try wearing one of the diapers we got. It might help avoid these situations, and you'll know what it'll feel like later tonight." Kris's face scrunched up with reluctance. "A diaper? Mom, I don't want to wear diapers. I'm not a baby!" Kim looked at Kris, her eyes filled with empathy. "I know it's not ideal, sweetheart, but it could be a temporary solution while we work through this. You're not a baby; it's about finding a way to make things a bit easier for you. What do you think?" Kris hesitated, conflicted by the idea of wearing a diaper. He didn't want to give in to the teasing from his siblings, especially Kyle's recent comment. The thought of it made him feel small and helpless. "I don't know, Mom. I just don't want everyone to think I'm a baby," Kris muttered, looking down at the floor. Kim sighed, continuing to help Kris change into dry clothes. She spoke gently, "Kris, I understand this is hard for you, but wearing a diaper doesn't make you a baby. It's just a temporary measure to help you through a challenging time. Let's try it for now, and we'll work together to find a better solution." Kris remained resistant, his brows furrowed in frustration. "But Mom, I really don't want to. It's embarrassing, and Kyle just made that comment about diapers. I don't want to prove him right." "I know, Kris, but we need to find a way to manage this. The diaper is just a tool, and I promise we'll keep working on a more permanent solution. It's not about proving anyone right; it's about taking care of yourself." "I can't," Kris protested, his voice shaky. "I won't wear a diaper." Kim looked at Kris with a mix of empathy and determination. "Kris, I need you to understand that this is for your own comfort and well-being. We're a team, and as a team, we need to make decisions that are best for everyone. It's not just about what you want right now; it's about finding a way for all of us to get through this together." Kris sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of the situation. "Mom, I really can't." Kim, maintaining her resolve, looked directly into Kris's eyes. "Alright, Kris. I didn't want to do this, but if you don't wear the diaper willingly, I won't be able to give you any pants, and you'll have to go out with just the diaper on. It's your choice, sweetheart. Will you wear the diaper willingly or choose the second option?" Kris hesitated, realizing that his mom wasn't going to back down. Chapter 7: The Reveal Kris stood there, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he dreaded the idea of wearing a diaper, feeling like it would only magnify his embarrassment. On the other hand, the thought of not being able to wear pants and still needing to wear a diaper felt unfair. After a moment of tense silence, Kim broke the standoff with a gentle yet firm voice. "I understand this is hard for you, but I need you to choose. Will you wear the diaper willingly, or do we go with the second option?" Kris hesitated, feeling the weight of his decision bearing down on him. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Okay, Mom. I'll wear it." Kim's face softened into a small smile of relief. "Thank you, Kris. I know this isn't easy for you, but I promise we'll work through this together." She reached over to the sink, where a package of pull-up diapers lay. "Now, there are two designs for you to choose from." Holding out the two different designs for him to see. "There's the Hulk, and the other is radioactive. Which one do you want?" Kris glanced at the designs, feeling a glimmer of amusement amidst his discomfort. "Um, I guess...the Hulk one." Kim nodded, setting aside the radioactive design. "Great choice! Let's get you changed into this; then, we can join everyone out in the living room. Dad has some exciting news he wants to share with everyone." As Kris pulled up the diaper, he couldn't help but notice how different it felt compared to his usual underwear. It was thicker and bulkier, and the sensation of it hugging his waist felt strange and unfamiliar. Despite his reservations, he found a small sense of relief in knowing that he would at least have a clean pair of pants to wear over it. Once he was dressed, Kim knelt to his level, her expression full of warmth and encouragement. "How does it feel? Is it comfortable?" Kris hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's...weird. But I guess it's not too bad." Kim smiled, relieved that Kris had agreed to wear the diaper. "That's good to hear. I'm sure it'll feel more comfortable as you get used to it." She handed him a pair of pants, and Kris eagerly slipped them on, grateful for the added layer of coverage. As he adjusted the waistband, he couldn't help but steal a glance at himself in the mirror, half expecting to see the diaper outline beneath the fabric. To his surprise, there was no obvious sign of the diaper's presence. It was hidden well under his pants. Kris felt a rush of relief wash over him, realizing that maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he had feared. Kim watched Kris with a knowing smile, seeing the relief wash over his face. She knew that Kris was still self-conscious about wearing the diaper, but she hoped that with time, he would come to see it as just another part of his routine. As they left the bathroom, Kim lightly patted Kris on the butt, a gesture of encouragement and support. "You're doing great, Kris. Now, let's go see what exciting news Dad has for us." As Kris walked ahead of his mom towards the living room, Kim couldn't help but notice the slight outline of the diaper beneath his pants. It was subtle, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking for it, but to Kim, it was a stark reminder of the challenges Kris was facing. She hoped that none of the other kids would notice. The last thing Kris needed was more teasing and embarrassment from his siblings, especially after Kyle's comment about him needing a diaper now. Kim's heart ached for her son, knowing how much he dreaded being the center of attention for something he couldn't control. As they approached the living room, Kris's steps slowed slightly, his worry noticeable in the way he glanced around nervously, waiting for his mom to catch up. Kim could sense his fears of his siblings' reactions. Sure enough, as they entered the room, Kris's fears were realized. Tammi and Kyle were sitting on the couch, their eyes lighting up with mischief as they spotted Kris. "Hey, look who's here! It's diaper boy!" Kyle exclaimed, a smirk playing on his lips. Kris's heart sank at the sound of Kyle's taunting voice. He felt a surge of frustration and embarrassment, knowing that his siblings were already making fun of him. "Knock it off, Kyle," Kris retorted, his voice tinged with irritation. "It's not funny." Tammi joined in with a snicker, "Yeah, I guess he's officially a baby now, huh?" "I'm not a baby!" Kris retorted, his voice trembling slightly with frustration. "I just...I had an accident, okay?" But Kyle and Tammi seemed unfazed, continuing to taunt Kris with smirks and snide remarks. "Aw, poor baby Kris," Kyle taunted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Need mommy to change your diaper?" Tammi chimed in, "Yeah, maybe we should start calling you Baby Kris from now on!" Kris felt a surge of anger boiling within him, his fists clenching even tighter as he struggled to maintain his composure. He wanted to lash out, to scream and shout at his siblings for their cruelty. But deep down, he knew that wouldn't solve anything. Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm despite the overwhelming urge to retaliate. "You guys are jerks," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. As Kris fought to control his emotions, Kevin's voice boomed from across the room, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Enough!" His tone was sharp, his frustration evident as he glared at Kyle and Tammi. Kris looked up, relief flooding through him at the sight of his father stepping in. Kevin's eyes narrowed as he addressed his other children. "That was too far. Kyle, Tammi, apologize to your brother. Now." Kyle and Tammi exchanged guilty glances, their smirks fading as they realized the severity of their father's tone. "Sorry, Kris," they mumbled in unison, their voices barely above a whisper, gazing down, unwilling to look at him face to face. Kevin's stern reprimand seemed to deflate the tension in the room, and Kris let out a silent sigh of relief as his siblings begrudgingly offered their apologies. It was a small victory, but at least for now, the teasing had stopped. "Alright, now that is behind us," Kevin declared, his voice firm but calm. "I have some exciting news to share with all of you." Kris's ears perked up at the mention of exciting news, momentarily distracted from the lingering discomfort of the earlier confrontation. He glanced at his father, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Kevin's expression softened into a warm smile as he gestured towards the envelope in his hand. "Well, I ran into an old friend of mine the other day, and he offered us something pretty special." He paused for dramatic effect, relishing in the anticipation building among his children. "Tickets to Disney World." The words hung in the air, eliciting gasps of astonishment and excitement from Kris and his siblings alike. Kris's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart racing with anticipation at the thought of visiting the magical world of Disney. "Really? We're going to Disney World?" Kris exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement. Kevin nodded, his smile widening at his children's enthusiastic reactions. "That's right. We leave in two weeks." Kris could hardly contain his excitement, his mind buzzing with visions of thrilling rides and beloved characters. He glanced at his siblings, seeing the same spark of excitement mirrored in their eyes. Tammi let out a squeal of delight, imagining herself posing with her favorite princesses. Kyle grinned from ear to ear, eager to experience Disney World for the first time. Even Sam, being oddly quiet this whole time, jumped about with excitement. As the initial shock wore off, the room erupted into a frenzy of excited chatter and planning. Kevin watched with a sense of satisfaction, grateful for the opportunity to create cherished memories with his family. But amidst the excitement, Kris couldn't shake being nervous about wearing diapers at night now. The thought of exploring Disney World with his secret being left at the hotel for anyone to find weighs heavily on his mind. What if someone found them? Would his friends back at home find out? What would others think of him? Nevertheless, as he watched his family eagerly discussing plans and packing lists, Kris couldn't help but feel excited. This would be the first family vacation they have gone on, and to Disney World, no less! With that thought in mind, Kris was swept away in the excitement of the impending adventure, determined to make the most of every magical moment at the happiest place on earth. Chapter 8: Night One As dinner time approached, Kris's stomach churned with a mix of excitement and anxiety. The smell of his mother's cooking filled the air, giving him a temporary sense of peace. He took his seat at the table, feeling the soft padding under his butt as he sat on the hard wooden chair. It was both comfortable, and awkward having this newfound softness added. Shortly after, his siblings gathered around as they eagerly anticipated their meal. "So, Kris," Tammi began, her tone teasing as she shot him a mischievous grin. "Do you think you'll be able to handle all the excitement at Disney World without having any accidents?" Kris felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks at Tammi's remark, his heart sinking as he braced himself for another round of teasing from his siblings. Before he could respond, Kyle chimed in with a smirk, "Yeah, I heard some of those rides can be pretty intense. Are you sure you won't need a diaper change halfway through?" Kris clenched his jaw, his fists tightening as he fought to maintain his composure. He desperately wanted to sink beneath the table, away from the prying eyes and taunting remarks of his siblings. But despite his frustration, Kris knew that retaliating would only fuel their teasing further. So, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to plaster on a fake smile as he replied, "Ha-ha, very funny, guys. I'll be fine, thank you very much." His words sounded weak even to his ears, but Kris refused to let his siblings see how much their teasing truly affected him. Instead, he focused on his dinner, silently praying for the conversation to shift away from his bedwetting struggles. "That's enough, you two!" Kevin's voice is firm and authoritative. "I just told you two to knock it off in the living room a minute ago. If you keep doing this, you'll get a spanking." His siblings fell silent under their father's stern gaze, and Kris breathed a small sigh of relief. He appreciated his dad's intervention, even if it was a temporary relief from their teasing. With the topic changed, the family was able to enjoy the rest of dinner without incident. Despite the anxiety bubbling in Kris's stomach, he managed to put on a brave face and join in the conversation, even mustering a few laughs at his siblings' jokes that weren't about him for a change. Once dinner ended, Kim instructed Kris and Sam to help clear the table. Kris nodded as he gathered up the empty plates. Sam skipped over to him, a cheerful smile lighting up her face as she grabbed a stack of dishes. "Come on, Kris! Let's race to see who can finish first!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she ran towards the kitchen. Kris chuckled, the tension easing slightly as he followed his younger sister's lead. He focused on the task at hand, determined to prove that he could handle the simplest of chores and beat his little sister. As they worked, Kris felt a familiar pressure building in his bladder. He glanced toward the bathroom, noting his need to go, but he also knew that helping his mom with the chores was important. Ignoring the discomfort, he continued to clear the table. But as the minutes passed, the urge to use the bathroom became too strong to ignore. Kris excused himself, intending to quickly relieve himself before returning to help Sam. However, as he made his way toward the bathroom, Sam's voice rang out behind him, her tone accusatory. "Hey! Where do you think you're going? We're supposed to be cleaning up together!" Kris paused, turning to face his sister with a sheepish expression. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick. I'll be right back." But Sam wasn't convinced, her brow furrowing in suspicion. "Mom! Dad! Kris isn't helping!" she called out, her voice carrying through the house. Kris's heart sank as he watched his parents enter the room, their expressions questioning. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick." He told them, hoping they would understand. Kim's face softened with understanding, but Kevin's expression remained stern. "Alright. Hurry up and come back to help," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. With a nod of gratitude, Kris rushed to the bathroom, relief flooding through him as he used the bathroom. But even as he relieved himself, he couldn't shake the sting of embarrassment at being accused of shirking his responsibilities by his younger sister. While washing his hands, he couldn't help but notice that the pack of nighttime diapers that were in here earlier was gone, nowhere to be seen. Even looking under the sink and trying to find them, nada, they were gone. As Kris returns to help Sam with the dishes, he tries to push aside the embarrassment of the earlier incident. However, unbeknownst to him, his attempt to discreetly readjust his pants wasn't as successful as he hoped. The diaper's edge peeked out from the waistband, visible to any onlookers. While walking back from the bathroom and heading towards the kitchen, Kris could see his two older siblings out in the living room. Unwilling to make eye contact, he quickly rushed past to get back to help. Tammi and Kyle kept quiet, not wanting to test their dad, but looked at each other and gave a small snicker, seeing the diaper sticking out of the back of his pants. Back in the kitchen, Sam was absorbed in her task and didn't notice the diaper until she leaned over to place a plate on the counter. Her eyes widened in surprise as she caught a glimpse of the telltale edge. She straightened up, turning to Kris with a curious expression. "Hey, Kris," she whispered, a curious expression on her face. "Are you wearing a diaper?" Kris's heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he glanced around to ensure no one else heard. Then, checking his back, he noticed his pants were down slightly, showing it off. His cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. After hesitating for a moment, he nodded sheepishly. At the same time, pulling his pants back into place. "Yeah, I am," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Sam's eyes widened with surprise, but she quickly composed herself and leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper, "Is it because of your accident earlier?" Kris nodded again, grateful for Sam's understanding and discretion. He didn't know how he would have handled it if she had teased him like his other siblings. "Don't worry," Sam whispered, her voice filled with innocence. "I won't tell anyone. It's our little secret." Kris's shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh of relief. He knew he could trust Sam to keep his secret safe. With that weight lifted off his chest, he felt a newfound sense of comfort in their relationship. "Thanks," he whispered back, offering her a small but genuine smile. With the dishes cleared away, Kris and Sam joined the rest of their family in the living room. They settled down on the couch, enjoying the warmth and comfort of their home as they prepared for the rest of the evening. As they watched TV, Kris felt a sense of normalcy return, the tension from earlier dissipating with each passing moment. He chuckled at the antics of the characters on screen, feeling grateful for the distraction from his own worries. While relaxing, Kyle's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Kris," Kyle said, holding out a bowl of popcorn. "Want to share?" Kris hesitated momentarily; he hated when the kernels got stuck in his teeth. Despite the teasing from earlier, Kris knew his brother didn't actually dislike him. With a small smile, he nodded and grabbed a handful. "Thanks, Kyle," he said, his voice sincere as he passed the bowl back to his brother. Kyle grinned back at him, their tension easing as they shared a bowl of popcorn while watching TV to end the day. As the evening wore on, the family went about their usual routine. They took turns showering and getting ready for bed, the familiar rituals providing comfort and stability amidst the chaos of the day's struggles. As Kris made his way upstairs to prepare for bed, he couldn't shake off the lingering discomfort from the events of the day. Despite the break from his siblings' teasing, the memory of his exposed diaper and their whispered conversations still nagged at him. How could he be so careless? Entering his room, Kris approached his dresser, intending to retrieve his pajamas for the night. However, as he pulled open the drawers, his heart sank as he realized they were still empty. "Mom must still have them," Kris muttered, his frustration rising as he realized he would have to confront his mother about it. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Kris made his way to his parent's room, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet hallway. He paused outside the closed door, hesitating for a moment before mustering up the courage to knock. "Mom?" Kris called out tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper as he knocked. The door creaked open, revealing Kim's tired but welcoming smile as she greeted her son. "Hey there, bud. What's up?" Kris hesitated momentarily, "Um, Mom, I... I need some pajamas," he stammered, his gaze dropping to the floor in shame. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the fact that he needed to ask his mom for clothes. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," she said gently, her voice laced with regret. "I completely forgot to give them back to you. Here, let me get you a pair." Kim momentarily disappeared into the room before emerging with a pair of pajamas. She handed them to Kris, her smile apologetic as she met his gaze. "Here you go, sweetheart," she said softly. "I'm sorry for forgetting. You can wear these tonight," she said while handing Kris the only onesie pajama he still had left. Kris hardly ever wears it, as it's a bit itchy. But he isn't about to argue, it's been a long enough day as is. "Thank you." Kris accepted the pajamas with a grateful but exhausted smile. "Do you need a new diaper too?" Kris's eyes got huge; he wasn't expecting his mom to ask if he needed a diaper so casually. He hesitated, his stomach churning with discomfort. He glanced down at the clean diaper he was wearing, feeling a surge of embarrassment at the thought of his mom thinking he might have had an accident in it already. "N-no, I'm okay," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "This one's still clean." Kim nodded understandingly, though Kris could sense a hint of concern in her eyes. She didn't press the issue further, offering him a reassuring smile as she ushered him off to shower. "Alright, sweetheart. Just let me know if you need anything. Even if it's in the middle of the night and it leaks, okay?" she said gently, her hand resting on his shoulder comfortingly. The weight of his mother's words settled heavily on his shoulders. The idea of his diaper leaking in the middle of the night sent a shiver of anxiety down his spine. He nodded silently, unable to find his voice as he swallowed back his fears. "Okay, Mom," he finally managed to murmur, his voice barely audible as he forced a weak smile. Kim's expression softened, her hand giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. Now go take your shower and get ready for bed. You'll feel better after a good night's rest," she encouraged. Kris nodded again, offering his mom a small but appreciative smile before stepping into the bathroom. As he closed the door behind him, he leaned heavily against the sink, his mind racing with worries and doubts. He couldn't shake off the worry about the possibility of his diaper leaking in the middle of the night. The thought of waking up in a wet bed, embarrassing himself further, sent a shiver down his spine. Pushing the thoughts to the side, Kris opted to get his shower done and over with. It's been a long day, and they have a trip in two weeks that he can't wait for. 13 nights until they leave. As he emerged from the shower, Kris wrapped himself in a towel, his thoughts consumed by the uncertainty of what lay ahead: would he have accidents at Disney World? Are the rides really scary? What will the plane ride be like? It's his first time, after all. He dried himself off mechanically, his movements automatic as he tried to push aside his fears. His fingers hesitated as he reached for his clothes, hovering uncertainly over the diaper. Did he really need to put it back on? Then he glanced at the onesie pajamas his mom had given him; why did she have to pick those of all the sets he had? Seeing the pair made him feel even more like a baby, a stark reminder of his vulnerability. With a heavy sigh, Kris reluctantly slipped into the diaper and his pajamas, feeling the scratchy fabric against his skin as he struggled to adjust to the annoying sensation. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being exposed and the helplessness of having his accidents and the solution to them on display for everyone to see. How did this day go so wrong? But despite his misgivings, Kris knew he had no choice but to soldier on. With a resigned sigh, he climbed up his ladder to his bunk upon reaching the top, a reminder from earlier in the day. No one cleaned up his accident from his nap. Kris hung his head low as he climbed back down his ladder to ask his mom for help yet again. "What's up, dude?" Kyle asked as he was crawling into his bottom bunk. "My bed is still wet from earlier," Kris responded, giving up on trying to hide anything at this point in the day. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about this day. "You didn't clean it up yet?" "No." "Dad just showed you how to earlier. Why didn't you just clean it up?" "I didn't think about it; I kind of forgot about it with everything that's happened today." "What's going on, you two? Lights should have been out by now?" Kevin came over to check in on his two boys. "Kris's bed is still wet from when he peed himself earlier today," Kyle told his dad nonchalantly. *Sigh* "Alright, grab the shampooer you're doing it this time." Kevin told Kris while looking annoyed but drained at the same time. Not nearly as angry as he saw him last time they cleaned his bed. Kris quickly left their room and went downstairs to get the shampooer from the laundry room. Luckily for him, it still had some cleaner in it from last time. "Do you remember how to use it?" "Yes, sir," Kris replied as he started up his ladder. "Good, hurry up and get it cleaned up. I'll be back in a minute with a towel you can put down and a new set of sheets." Kevin instructed Kris as he left the room. Tired and just wanting to be done with the day, Kris rushed in to clean the bed. Spraying down the cleaner, then using the nozzle to suck up the mucky yellow grime and bubbles laden in the fibers. The two scents swirled together, creating an unpleasant combination but leaving behind at least a milder scent on the bed. Once finished to the point where the bed was at least acceptable to lay in, he climbed down his ladder and set the shampooer to the side of their bed. He didn't want to return it downstairs. He was done and just wanted the night to end. He then stood in front of the ladder, waiting for his father to return with the promised towel. Kevin returned a moment later with a fluffy towel tucked beneath one arm and a new pair of sheets in the crook of his other. Looking to the shampooer, he tossed the towel up on the top bunk while reaching for the machine, he dropped the sheets to the floor. "Make the bed, and go to sleep." His father said as he exited the room without glancing at Kris. Not wanting the night to drag on any longer than it had to, Kyle got out of bed and helped Kris make his bed by handing him his sheets and a new blanket. "Night dude," Kyle told his brother, as he turned off the light and got back into bed himself, pulling up the novel he had been reading. Exhausted from the day, Kris felt himself drifting off to sleep, his worries and fears momentarily forgotten in the embrace of slumber. Chapter 9: New Routines A few days had passed since the family's decision to use night diapers for Kris. The household had settled into a new routine, one that involved Kris needing to greet his mom and siblings downstairs in the morning before he could get changed and take a shower. It was frustrating, needing to ask for his clothes each day as if he couldn't be trusted to clothe himself without trying to hide something. For Kris, these days were a mix of relief and anxiety. The diapers offered a sense of security, knowing he wouldn't wake up in a wet bed. The mornings were particularly challenging for Kris. As he woke up, he would gingerly check his diaper, his heart sinking at the realization that it was wet once again. He would silently curse himself for not being able to control his bladder like a normal kid—a constant reminder of his predicament, a fact that was not lost on his siblings. Kyle and Tammi had toned down their teasing, at least in front of their parents. Still giving Kris a knowing look or smirk on occasions whenever he had to ask for clothes or the topic of his bedwetting came up. On the other hand, Sam kept her promise and never mentioned Kris's diapers to anyone else. He was grateful for her loyalty, even if it didn't completely erase his embarrassment. However, the worst part came when he had to face his family at the breakfast table. He could feel their curious gazes lingering on him, their unspoken question hanging in the air. Was he dry this time? He ignored the whispers and glances, focusing instead on his breakfast. Despite his efforts to ignore it, Kris couldn't escape the sensation of his wet diaper as he sat down to eat breakfast. The crinkle of the diaper seemed louder than ever. Every shift in his seat brought a new awareness of the soggy padding between his legs. As he picked at his food, Kris felt shame and frustration. He hated the way his family tiptoed around the topic of his bedwetting, their sympathy only serving to highlight his embarrassment. He longed for things to return to "normal," to wake up in a dry bed and not worry about diapers or accidents. Across the table, Kris could sense the curious glances of his family, their eyes flickering briefly in his direction before hastily averting their gaze. He knew what they were thinking, even if they didn't say it out loud. He was the diaper boy now, the one who couldn't even control his bladder, just like a baby. After he finished breakfast, Kris sat in the lingering discomfort of his wet diaper, waiting for his siblings to finish eating before he could change. His mom broke the silence, her voice gentle yet tinged with concern. "Kris, how did you sleep, bud?" she asked. Kris shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Fine, I guess," he muttered, not wanting to admit that he'd been able to sleep more soundly through the night. His mom nodded, her expression softening. "That's good to hear. I know this is hard for you, but I'm proud of how you're handling it. You're being really brave." Kris forced a small smile, grateful for her words even as he felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't feel brave; he felt embarrassed and ashamed. But he didn't want to disappoint his mom, so he nodded, silently agreeing. As his siblings finished breakfast and dispersed to start their day, Kris pushed himself away from the table with a heavy sigh. He knew the routine by now: follow Mom to her room, get changed, and try to put on a brave face for another day. With a reluctant shuffle, Kris trailed after his mom, the weight of his soggy pull-up reminding him of his current reality with each step. His heart sank as he entered her room, feeling the familiar mix of embarrassment and resignation wash over him. Kim turned to him with a gentle smile, her eyes full of warmth and understanding. "Let's get you a change of clothes," she said softly, motioning for him to come closer. Kris hesitated momentarily, the knot of shame tightening in his chest. But he knew there was no use fighting it; the sooner he got changed, the sooner he could enjoy the rest of his day. With a resigned nod, he approached his mom, feeling like a little kid again, as she helped him pick out his clothes for the day and directed him toward their bathroom to get cleaned up. Despite the tenderness of his mom's actions, Kris couldn't shake the lingering sense of humiliation that clung to him. Each moment spent in that room felt like an eternity, a reminder of how different his life had become. Before, he would have loved to have story times; now, with his predicament, this room just meant he was a baby needing to rely on his parents. After changing out of his wet pull-up, Kris left his parents' bedroom, trying to shake off the feelings of embarrassment that still clung to him. He was determined to enjoy the day and joined his siblings for some schoolwork. Kris felt a sense of normalcy as they worked through their lessons. Being homeschooled meant he could focus on his studies without the added pressure of dealing with teasing or judgment from classmates outside of his siblings. He was grateful for this small comfort, even as he struggled with his bedwetting. After finishing their schoolwork, their mom gave them some free time, and Kris decided to relax by watching TV with his siblings. As he sat on the couch, the familiar comfort of their family room surrounding him, Kris felt himself beginning to relax. However, as the afternoon wore on, Kris felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Despite trying to stay awake, he soon found himself dozing off. As Kris dozed off on the couch, his siblings exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern and mischief. "I think he's asleep," Kyle whispered, nudging Tammi with his elbow. Tammi raised an eyebrow. "Should we wake him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Kyle shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Nah, let him sleep. The last time he fell asleep, he wet himself. Maybe this time, he'll learn his lesson." Tammi stifled a laugh, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. It's his fault if he wets himself again." Engrossed in the TV show, Sam was oblivious to their whispered conversation. She sat on the floor, eyes glued to the screen, unaware of her siblings' scheming. A few minutes passed, the room filled with the sound of the TV and Kris's soft snores. Suddenly, Kris jolted awake, a look of panic on his face. He felt warm wetness spreading in his crotch and realized with horror that he was wetting himself. Jumping up from the couch, Kris dashed for the bathroom, his siblings' laughter ringing in his ears. He could feel the wetness soaking through his pants, the shame burning hot on his cheeks. With all his might, Kris ran, hoping to make it to the bathroom in time to finish. Kyle and Tammi watched from the couch, their laughter growing louder as Kris hurried away. Sam, finally noticing the commotion, turned to see Kris's retreating figure, confusion clouding her face. "What's going on?" she asked, looking between Kyle and Tammi. "He wet himself again," Kyle said, barely able to contain his amusement. "Looks like he didn't learn his lesson after all." Tammi giggled, shaking her head. "I can't believe he did it again. What a baby." Sam frowned, feeling a pang of sympathy for Kris. "That's not very nice, guys. It's not his fault." Kyle shrugged. "Maybe not, but it's still funny." Tammi and Kyle exchanged a glance before getting up from the couch and following Kris to the bathroom. They stood outside the door, their whispers barely concealed. "He's such a baby," Tammi muttered, rolling her eyes. Kyle chuckled. "I know, right? How hard is it to control your bladder?" Kris was too late. He stood frozen, a trail of pee leading from the bathroom door, dribbles marking his path to where he stood, a growing puddle forming at his feet. Shame washed over him in waves, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he heard the mocking voices on the other side of the door. "He must really like the smell of urine because he can't go one day without peeing himself!" Kyle teased from the other side of the door. Tammi bursting into laughter only made Kris feel worse about the situation. Why did they have to follow him over, just to tease him? "I can't believe this is happening again," Kris thought, his heart sinking with each passing moment. He knew the teasing would only intensify now. With a heavy sigh, he forced himself into action, his movements robotic as he hurried to clean up the mess. Grabbing a nearby towel, Kris knelt down, wiping up the puddle on the floor with shaky hands. He felt the weight of his wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin as he worked, the humiliation of the situation nearly suffocating him. With each swipe of the towel, he tried to erase the evidence of his latest accident, but the shame lingered, staining him from within. Once the floor was somewhat dry, Kris turned his attention to himself, hastily wiping his legs dry with the towel before discarding it into a growing pile of wet clothes. Wrapping another towel around his waist, he tried to shield himself from the prying eyes of his family, though he knew it was futile. As he stood there, his heart heavy with embarrassment, Kris couldn't help but wonder when this nightmare would end. Outside, Kim noticed the commotion and walked over, her brow furrowed with concern. "What's going on?" she asked, looking at Tammi and Kyle. Kyle smirked. "The baby had another accident," he said mockingly, earning a stern look from Kim. "Kyle!" she said, exasperated by his attitude. Inside the bathroom, Kris's heart sank. He knew there was no way to hide his accident now. He slowly peeled off the towel, ashamed, and looked down at his pants. They were soaked, the wetness clearly visible. Defeated, Kris opened the bathroom door and stepped out, avoiding eye contact with his family. He knew he had to ask his mom for new clothes. There was no way to hide what had happened. Kim's heart ached with frustration as she saw Kris's situation. She knew how embarrassed he must feel. "Come here," she said gently, leading him away from his siblings. Once they were out of earshot, Kim crouched down to Kris's level, her eyes full of compassion. "It's okay, sweetheart," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. "Accidents happen, and it doesn't make you any less of a big kid." As Kris stood there, his wet pants clinging uncomfortably to his skin, he couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in his mom's shoulder, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. "I-I heard them," Kris choked out between sobs. "Kyle and Tammi... t-they were making fun of me. They called me a baby... they said I liked the smell of urine..." Kim's heart clenched at the pain in her son's voice. She held him tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Oh, honey," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that. You're not a baby, sweetheart. You're just going through a tough time, and it's okay to feel upset about it." Kris sniffled, trying to compose himself. "But it hurts, Mom," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "It hurts when they say those things..." Kim nodded understandingly, brushing away his tears. "I know, honey. It's not fair, and it's not right for them to tease you like that. You're being so brave, and I'm proud of you. Don't let their words make you feel small." Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Kim made a mental note to have a serious talk with Kevin about Kyle and Tammi's behavior. No sibling should ever make their brother feel ashamed like this. But for now, Kris needed comfort and reassurance. Kim took a deep breath, holding her son at arm's length so she could look him in the eye. "Listen to me," she said firmly, her voice gentle yet firm. "You are loved, you are valued, and you are not alone in this. We're a family, and we stick together, no matter what. If anyone dares to make fun of you again, they'll answer to me. Understand?" Kris nodded, his eyes wide with gratitude. "Th-thank you," he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion. Kim smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I'm here for you, always." Kim held Kris at arm's length for a moment longer. With a tender smile, she gently nudged him toward the direction of her closet, where his clothes were located. "Go on, sweetheart, get changed." she encouraged him softly. Kris disappeared into his parent's master bathroom for the second time that day. Meanwhile, his mom reached for her phone. She dialed Kevin's number, her mind racing with everything that had transpired. He picked up after the second ring, his voice tight with concern. "Hey, what's going on?" "Kev," Kim began, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. "It's about Kris..." She recounted the distressing events that had unfolded, the hurtful words from Kyle and Tammi, and Kris's tearful reaction. Her anger simmered beneath the surface as she relayed the experience and remembered the words from Kris and his tearful little eyes. By the time she finished, there was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. She could almost feel Kevin's frustration radiating through the phone. "That's it," he said finally. "I've had enough of this. Those kids need to learn some respect, and if they won't listen to reason, then they'll learn it the hard way." Kim's heart skipped a beat at the intensity in her husband's voice. She knew he meant business. "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Tell them," he replied, his tone unwavering. "Tell them that if they dare to make fun of Kris again, about his diaper, about his accidents, by calling him a baby, or anything along those lines. They'll be facing consequences. And not just any consequences – they'll be wearing diapers themselves. Let's see how they like it." Kim felt a surge of relief wash over her at Kevin's words. It was about time someone put their foot down and stood up for Kris. "I'll talk to them," she promised, her voice firm with determination. "They need to understand that this behavior is unacceptable." Chapter 10: You Were Warned Kim took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she knew she needed to have with her children. With resolve in her heart, she motioned for Kris to join her as she made her way out to the living room. "Kyle, Tammi, Sam," Kim called out, her voice steady but commanding. "Come here, please. We need to talk." The children gathered around. Their mother's serious tone piqued their curiosity. Kyle's eyes widened as he noticed Kris standing beside their mom, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. "I spoke with dad about what happened." Kim's gaze shifted to Kyle, who squirmed under her gaze. His eyes grew wide, a mixture of nervousness and guilt flashing across his face. He had a sinking feeling that he was about to be in trouble. "I have something important to discuss with all of you," Kim began, her gaze firm as she addressed her children. "We've noticed some behavior towards Kris that is completely unacceptable. Teasing him about his accidents, his diapers—it's hurtful and unfair." Kyle shifted uncomfortably, realizing the gravity of the situation as his mother's words sank in. "Dad and I have decided that enough is enough," Kim continued, her voice unwavering. "Any teasing or making fun of Kris will not be tolerated. And if any of you choose to continue this behavior, there will be consequences." A tense silence filled the room as Kim's words hung in the air. Kris stood beside her, a sense of relief filling him up and refueling his spirit. "Consequences?" Tammi echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Yes," Kim affirmed, her tone resolute. "Your father has made it clear that if any of you continue to tease Kris about his accidents or his diapers, you will be wearing diapers yourselves. It's time to treat your brother with the kindness he deserves." Kyle's eyes widened in disbelief, the weight of his mother's words sinking in. He exchanged a nervous glance with Tammi, realizing that their actions had serious repercussions. "Understood?" Kim asked, her gaze sweeping over her children, her authority unyielding. The siblings nodded solemnly, a newfound understanding dawning on them as they absorbed their mother's words. "Good," Kim said, her voice softening slightly. "Now, I want each of you to return to your studies. We'll discuss this further later." The children nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation. They dispersed, heading back to the kitchen table to resume their studies. Kim watched them go, a sense of relief washing over her. She hoped that her words had made an impact on them, especially Kyle, who had such a bad habit of embarrassing his younger brother. As the afternoon wore on, the house was filled with the sounds of pencil scratches on paper and the occasional rustle of a textbook page. Kris focused on his work, feeling a sense of ease as his humiliation ended. He knew his siblings' teasing wouldn't stop overnight, but he hoped his parents' intervention would make a difference. After another hour or two of studying, the front door creaked open, and their father's voice filled the house. "I'm home!" Excitedly, the children abandoned their books and rushed to greet their father. Kevin smiled as he was bombarded with hugs and stories about their day. He tousled Kyle's hair and praised Tammi for her progress in math. Sam clung to his leg, chattering away about her drawings. Kim emerged from the kitchen. "Welcome home, dear," she said, kissing Kevin's cheek. "Thanks, honey," Kevin replied, returning her kiss. "Smells like dinner is almost ready." "Just about," Kim confirmed. "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner will be ready soon." Kevin headed to the bathroom to freshen up, and Kim returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. The children chatted excitedly at the table while packing their school supplies, eager to tell their father about their day. Once dinner was ready, they all sat down to eat, the atmosphere light and cheerful. Kevin listened intently as the children recounted their day. Kris felt a sense of peace settle over him as he sat with his family, grateful for the love and support of his parents. As they finished eating, the clinking of utensils against plates gradually subsided, and a comfortable silence settled over the family. Kevin leaned back in his chair, a contented smile gracing his lips as he watched his children chat animatedly about their day. However, amidst the jovial atmosphere, he couldn't shake off the nagging concern that he had to address the incident from earlier. "You know, kids," Kevin began, his tone casual yet tinged with seriousness, "I overheard something earlier today." The room grew quiet as all eyes turned to Kevin, curiosity etched on their faces. Kris's heart skipped a beat, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks as he realized what his father was about to address. He had hoped his accident earlier would go unnoticed by his dad, but it seemed that wasn't the case. Kevin's gaze swept over his children, his expression solemn. "It seems that some of you were picking on Kris earlier," he continued, his voice steady but firm. "Making fun of him for wetting his pants." A heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Kris's cheeks burned with embarrassment, his gaze fixed on the tabletop as he avoided his father's penetrating stare. He hadn't expected his dad to find out about his accident, let alone address it in front of the entire family. Kevin's eyes softened as he observed Kris's discomfort, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. He hated seeing his son squirm, knowing that he bore some responsibility for Kris's predicament. Kevin cleared his throat, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "I want to make something very clear," he began, his gaze shifting between his children. "Teasing Kris about his diapers, his bedwetting, having an accident, or anything like that is completely unacceptable." The children listened intently, their expressions a mix of guilt and understanding. "As a consequence," he continued, his voice firm, "if I hear of any more teasing or making fun of Kris, the offender will also be wearing a diaper. Is that understood?" The children nodded, their earlier joviality replaced by a sense of seriousness and respect. "Good," Kevin said, his tone softening. "Now, let's all pitch in and get everything cleaned up from dinner. We've got a movie to watch tonight." As the kids cleaned up the table and the dishes from dinner, Kevin headed to the living room to set up a movie for them all to watch. He rummaged through the movie collection, finally settling on "Spy Kids," a family favorite. In no time, the living room was filled with laughter and excitement as the kids gathered around the TV. They squabbled playfully over who would sit where eventually finding their spots on the couch or sprawled out on the floor. Kevin dimmed the lights, setting the perfect ambiance for a cozy movie night. As the opening credits of "Spy Kids" began to roll, the room was alive with chatter and anticipation. The kids traded playful jabs and teasing remarks, their earlier tension forgotten in the excitement of the movie. Kris felt a sense of relief wash over him as he settled in beside his siblings, grateful for the chance just to be a kid again. The movie played on, and the kids were soon swept up in the action-packed adventures of Juni and Carmen Cortez. They cheered and gasped at all the right moments, their laughter ringing through the room. However, in the scene where Juni calls Carmen a "diaper lady," Kyle makes a fateful mistake. In the midst of their playful banter, he turned to Kris with a mischievous grin and said, "I guess that makes you Carmen, huh Kris?" The room fell silent as Kyle's words hung in the air, the playful atmosphere evaporating in an instant. Kris felt his stomach clench with embarrassment and hurt, his cheeks flushing crimson as all eyes turned to him. Kevin's expression darkened as he glanced between his children, a stern frown marring his features. He had hoped that their earlier conversation would have made an impact, but it seemed that Kyle still had a long way to go in understanding the gravity of his words. "Kyle," Kevin said, his voice low and authoritative. Kyle's grin faltered, his earlier bravado replaced by a look of sheepishness. He glanced down at his lap, suddenly finding the rug pattern incredibly fascinating. "I'm sorry," Kyle mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Kris met his brother's gaze, seeing the genuine remorse shining in his eyes. Despite the hurtful words, he knew Kyle didn't mean any harm. With a small nod, Kris offered his forgiveness. Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to diffuse the tension in the room. "Let's just focus on the movie, okay?" he suggested, his tone gentle yet firm. The kids nodded, their earlier enthusiasm dampened but not extinguished. With a collective effort, they turned their attention back to the TV, immersing themselves once more in the world of "Spy Kids." As the end credits of "Spy Kids" rolled, the room was filled with a somber silence. The kids sat in muted contemplation, the earlier excitement of the movie night now overshadowed by the tension that lingered in the air. Kevin watched his children. His thoughts were weighed down by the realization that his threat hadn't sunken in yet. He knew he needed to address the situation before it escalated further. Sighing, he rose from his seat and motioned for Kyle to follow him. "Kyle, I need to talk to you for a moment," Kevin said, his tone gentle yet firm. Kyle nodded, his expression wary as he followed his father out of the living room and into the hallway. "Listen," Kevin began, his voice low but stern. "I need to talk to you about what happened." Kyle's brow furrowed in confusion, a hint of apprehension creeping into his features. "What do you mean?" "I mean your behavior towards Kris," Kevin clarified, his gaze unwavering. "Teasing him about his accidents and diapers is not okay. Your mom and I have made it clear that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated." Kyle shifted uncomfortably, a sense of guilt gnawing at him. He hadn't realized the impact of his words until now, seeing the disappointment in his father's eyes. "I'm sorry," Kyle said, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to hurt Kris. It was just a joke, you know?" Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand that, but thinking about how your words can affect others is important. Kris has been through a tough time, and he needs our support, not our teasing." Kyle nodded, his expression contrite. "I get it. I won't tease him anymore, I promise." "I'm glad to hear that," Kevin said, his tone softening. "But there's something else we need to address. As a consequence of your behavior, you'll wear one of Kris's pull-ups to bed tonight." Kyle's eyes widened in disbelief, a mixture of shock and embarrassment crossing his face. "What? But Dad, it was just a joke! He's fine!" Kevin shook his head, his tone firm. "I'm sorry, dude, but we must follow through. You need to understand the seriousness of your actions. I can't let you just get away with it. What would be the point in that, after what we just talked about at dinner?" Kyle reluctantly nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. They head back out to the living room, where Kevin instructs the kids to get ready for bed. The girls went upstairs while Kris headed toward their parents' room to get a pull-up and his pajamas for the night. Kris notices Kyle following him, which makes him feel a little uncomfortable. Kyle doesn't say anything as they wait for their parents in their parents' room. Kris looks at Kyle, unsure of what to say. He knows his brother is probably feeling embarrassed about having to wear a pull-up to bed, but Kris can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, knowing that Kyle is finally getting a taste of his own medicine. As Kris and Kyle wait in their parents' room, Kris feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him—relief that his parents are taking action against the teasing, the satisfaction that Kyle is finally facing the consequences, but also a twinge of envy that Kyle seems to be treated with more dignity at this moment. His thoughts are interrupted when he notices his mom grabbing two pull-ups from the package and handing one to each of them. Kris's surprise lingers as he takes the pull-up from his mom's hand, his eyes flickering between the diaper in his hand and the one in Kyle's. Before Kris could dwell on his thoughts, his mom interrupted, handing him some pajamas and ushering him off to get changed in their master bathroom. As Kris heads towards the bathroom, he hears his mom's voice directed at Kyle. "Go put it on and go to bed," she instructs her tone firm but not unkind. "You better wear it. I'm trusting you to be responsible. If you're not, there will be worse trouble." Kris can't help but feel a pang of envy as he listens to his mom's words. Despite the embarrassing situation, Kyle is being treated with a level of trust and responsibility that Kris hasn't experienced. It stirs up conflicting emotions within him—on the one hand, he's glad that Kyle is finally facing the consequences for his teasing, but on the other hand, he can't shake off the unfairness of the situation. As Kris changes into his pajamas and pulls on the pull-up, he can't help but wonder how this night will unfold. Will Kyle wear the pull-up to bed? Will their parents follow through with the consequences if he doesn't? And most importantly, will this finally end the teasing once and for all? Chapter 11: This is Unfair As Kris entered the bedroom, he found Kyle already in bed, engrossed in a book. Kris paused, unsure of how to proceed. He glanced at his brother, who looked up from his book, meeting Kris's gaze with a glare. "What?" Kyle snapped, his tone defensive. Kris hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He felt a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and a lingering sense of satisfaction at Kyle's predicament. He knew he should probably let it go, but the resentment he felt towards his brother was hard to shake. "Nothing," Kris muttered, avoiding Kyle's gaze as he changed into his pajamas. Kyle watched him, his expression unreadable. Kris could sense the tension between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air. He knew he probably shouldn't say anything but was so tempted to. Kris cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "So, uh, how well does the pull-up fit?" he asked, his tone casual but with an underlying tension, wanting to confirm his brother was actually wearing it. Kyle stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "What do you care?" he retorted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "I was just wondering," Kris replied, trying to keep his tone light. "I mean, it must be pretty uncomfortable, right?" Kyle's voice followed as Kris climbed up the ladder to his bunk bed. "You know, it's a little small. Must be because of all the extra padding they had to use for babies like you." Kris gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on the rungs of the ladder. "Shut up! It's not funny. If anything, it's because of your fat butt." Kyle's laughter echoed in the room. "You're such a baby. Always crying about everything." Frustration bubbled up inside Kris. "At least I don't tattle to Mom and Dad every time you do something wrong, like you do!" Kyle's face darkened, and for a moment, Kris thought he had gone too far. But then Kyle smirked. "Yeah, but at least I don't wet the bed like a toddler." Kris tried to think of a rebuttal, but Kyle wasn't finished. "I can't believe I have to share a room with a baby," he muttered. Kris took a deep breath, trying to control his rising anger. "At least I'm not a slob, like you." he shot back, unable to resist the jab. Kyle fell silent momentarily, and Kris thought he had finally gotten through to him. But then Kyle's voice came again, softer this time. "I'm sorry," he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. "I shouldn't have picked on you as much as I have been." Kris was taken aback by the apology. He hadn't expected it, especially not from Kyle. "It's okay," he replied after a moment, his anger dissipating. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have called you fat or a slob." They lay in silence for a few moments, their tension easing. Finally, Kyle spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," Kris replied, feeling a sense of peace settle over him as he hopped things changed for the better. As Kris lay in his bed on the top bunk, the events of the day played over and over in his mind like a relentless loop. He couldn't shake off the tension that had built up between him and Kyle, even after their brief truce. The next few nights were just as difficult for Kris. Sure, he managed to get away from anyone teasing him during the day. But his mind was reeling, tumbling with questions that only added to frustration after frustration. How long would that last? Why hadn't Tammi tried to pick on him? Was it because Kyle got in trouble? Did she even know about that? Would Kyle keep his word and lay off the teasing, or was this just a temporary ceasefire before the next round of mockery? And what about Dad's threat to diaper anyone who made fun of Kris? Would he follow through past the one instance with Kyle, or was it just an empty promise meant to scare them into behaving? Unable to sleep, Kris tossed and turned in his bed, night after night, his mind consumed with thoughts of how unfair everything seemed. He couldn't shake off the feeling of injustice within him. Why was he always the one who got called out in front of everyone? Why is it that when Kyle was called out, it was to the side where no one could hear? His sisters probably didn't even know Kyle was in a diaper! Why couldn't Kris have his clothes and the dignity to pick his own outfits? Instead, his parents stowed them away and chose for him. Deciding what he would wear, and when he could get changed. They wouldn't even extend enough trust to let him get changed in his own room, or the shared bathroom, making him use their master bathroom each time. Waiting, on the other side of the door to ensure he was listening to them. Just another nail in the coffin of his dependence on them. He thought back to how his parents had handled the situation with Kyle the night he was diapered. Replaying the events in his head multiple times. They had pulled Kyle aside after he broke their rule about teasing Kris. Kris couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He didn't even know Kyle was getting diapered that night until he followed him to his parent's bedroom and got handed a pull-up. Why didn't he get the same level of consideration and trust from his parents? Why did Kyle seem to get special treatment? Kris's frustration grew as he dwelled on these thoughts. He resented asking for new pants and underwear every day, knowing none of his other siblings would have to deal with the same humiliation. He hated having to sit in his wet diaper first thing in the morning, feeling the discomfort and shame gnawing at him, just waiting for his parents to finally give him the dignity he deserved. Kris felt his spirit deflate as he woke up each morning in a wet pull-up. The discomfort and shame gnawed at him, a continual reminder of his situation. He couldn't help but think back to the one morning he woke up and found his pull-up had leaked. The embarrassment and humiliation flooded back as he recalled the wet sheets and the disappointed look on his mother's face. He wanted so badly to hide it from everyone, but in the end, he knew he stood no chance with all his clothes downstairs in his parent's room. He felt like he was failing. His parents tried to be understanding, but Kris could see the disappointment in their eyes. He knew they were trying to help him, but their attempts only made him feel more inadequate. He resented relying on them for everything, from changing in the morning to choosing his clothes for the day. He longed for the independence he once had, the freedom to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule. Amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, a glimmer of hope flickered to life. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better. Maybe Kyle would keep his word, Dad would enforce his ultimatum, and Kris could finally find indifference to his situation. However, nothing over these last several days had pushed anyone to the point of needing to be punished with his dad's threat. As the days dragged on, Kris knew the likelihood of his dad keeping with what he said and punishing those who teased him grew less and less likely. Chapter 12: Packing List Two weeks had passed since the incident that changed everything for Kris. In that time, he had grown accustomed to his nightly routine of wearing diapers to bed, though the discomfort and embarrassment still lingered. Waking up in a wet pull-up every morning made him feel so small. It was as if he was a toddler who couldn't control themselves. Needing to wait until after breakfast before he could get changed only added to his humiliation. What was the point in that anyway? At least the one morning when his pull-up had leaked, and he had to come down in wet pants, he could change before they ate breakfast. All of that was behind him now. Now they were packing for Disney World! There was nothing that could ruin it for him. Except, as Kris stood before his dresser, sorting through his clothes for the trip, Kris couldn't help but feel belittled yet again that he needed to ask for his clothes so he could make sure they were packed. As Kris approaches his parents to ask for his clothes, he feels a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. Hesitating at their bedroom doorway, trying to summon the courage to speak up. Finally, he clears his throat and steps forward. "Mom, Dad," Kris begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "Um, can I have my clothes back? I need to pack for the trip." Kim looks up from where she's folding laundry, her expression softening at the sight of her son. "Of course, sweetheart," she says gently. "They're in the closet. Grab whatever you need." Kris nods, relief flooding through him as he heads toward the closet. But just as he reaches for his clothes, Kevin interjects, his tone tinged with frustration. "Before you pack, I want you to take this," Kevin says, holding out a pack of pull-ups. "You need to bring these with you." Kris's heart sinks as he takes the pack from his dad. He had hoped to avoid this situation. "Do I have to?" Kris asks, trying to keep his voice steady. Kevin sighs, his frustration evident. "You know you do. We can't risk any accidents during the trip. Just take them and pack them in your suitcase." Feeling defeated, Kris takes the pack of pull-ups and his clothes back to his room to pack. He's grateful his parents are trusting him for a change to do something on his own, like packing for the trip. If someone else were doing it, he would be mortified to see what was packed once they arrived. But at least this way, he knows he'll have clothes he likes and actual underwear to wear during the day. As he re-enters the room, Kyle notices the pack of pull-ups in Kris's hand. "What's that?" Kyle asks, a smirk forming on his face. "Are those diapers for the baby?" Kris feels his face flush with embarrassment as he sets the package on his bed. "No, they're pull-ups, and they're for me," he mumbles while avoiding Kyle's gaze. "For you?" Kyle laughs, his voice dripping with mockery. "You're going to wear diapers to Disney World? That's so lame!" "It's not like I want to wear them!" Kris retorts, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I have to wear them because of you!" "Because of me?" Kyle scoffs. "How is this my fault?" "If you hadn't told Dad about my accident, I wouldn't need these pull-up!" Kris snaps, his anger flaring. Kyle's smirk fades, replaced by a look of guilt. "I didn't think you'd end up in diapers," he says quietly. "Well, I did," Kris replies, tears filling his eyes. "And it's not fair!" "Hey, the good news is you should fly for free now, being a baby, after all." Kyle's attempt at humor fell flat as Kris's expression hardened. Kyle's attempt at humor cuts deep, his words twisting the knife of Kris's raw emotions. Feeling a surge of anger and hurt, his words began tumbling out before he could stop them. "You're just jealous because you don't get the attention anymore! You're nothing but a stupid, selfish bully!" Kyle's face contorts with shock and anger. "I'm the bully?" he shouts, hurt evident in his voice. "You're the one who's always crying and making everything about you! You're such a baby!" Kris's hand trembles with anger as he balls it into a fist. Mad that his brother kept calling him a baby. Figures Kris was right to suspect that his brother wouldn't keep his word. Without thinking, he swings, connecting with his brother's arm. Kyle winces, more from surprise than pain, as his words echo in the tense silence. "I'm not a baby!" Kris shouts, tears streaking down his cheeks. "I hate you!" Without another word, Kris turned and stormed out of their room. Stunned by his brother's actions, Kyle lets what just occurred sink in, and shock quickly turns to anger. "How dare he hit him!? How could he even begin to blame him for the predicament he's in? He is acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum! I bet he is going to go tattle on me, to try and get me in a stupid diaper again! I'll show him! If he wants to get me to wear a diaper, I'll make him wear them the whole trip. Show him who the baby really is!" Kyle thinks to himself. Fueled by anger, Kyle storms over to his brother's suitcase and unzips it. Without hesitation, he removes all of Kris's underwear. Tucking them under the bottom drawer of their dresser, knowing full well no one would find them until returning from Disney World. In his mind, Kris deserves this. He deserves to be treated like a baby since he can't act any better than a dramatic toddler. Kyle's anger simmers as he carries out his plan with cold determination. He takes Kris's suitcase downstairs, carefully concealing his actions from the rest of the family. With a sense of vindication, he hands the suitcase to his dad, who loads it into the car without suspecting a thing. Meanwhile, Instead of tattling on his brother, Kris opted to sit in the car playing on his handheld gaming console. He feared retaliation from his brother and getting tattled on himself for hitting his brother. Which he knew his parents found unacceptable, no matter what the reason was. Wanting to drown out the world, Kris sat there with his headphones firmly in place, attempting to block out the family, not wanting to get teased by anyone else or cause any more arguments. He was completely unaware of Kyle's schemes, forgetting about his suitcase entirely. Kim notices Kris is in the car, absorbed in his handheld, and taps on the window to get his attention. Kris, startled, looks up and removes his headphones. "Hey, bud," Kim says gently, "are you wearing a diaper?" Kris's cheeks flush crimson, embarrassment overwhelming him at his mom's question. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding her gaze. "Um, no," he mumbles, his voice barely audible. Kim nods understandingly. "I think putting one on for the flight would be a good idea. It's going to be long, and you might fall asleep. We don't want any accidents, do we?" Kris shakes his head, his embarrassment deepening. "No, we don't," he replies, sounding slightly defeated, as his self-esteem deflates slightly. Kris's cheeks burn with embarrassment as he shifts in his seat, avoiding his mom's gaze. "But, Mom," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, "I don't want to wear a pull-up on the plane. Can't I just use the bathroom before we board?" Kim's expression softens as she gently squeezes Kris's hand. "I know this is hard for you, honey," she says softly, "but it's just for the flight. We don't want any accidents to happen, especially so high up in the air. Where you can't get to a clean pair of clothes, no less. Please, for me?" "I...I already packed the pull-ups," Kris says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're in my suitcase. I think I may have left it in my room." He glances back toward the trunk of the car, where their suitcases are neatly packed away. To his surprise, he sees his own suitcase already nestled among the others, the zipper securely closed. "Actually," Kris says, his brow furrowing in confusion, "my suitcase is already in the car." Kim nods, her expression sympathetic. "I understand. That was a new pack, we still have an open one in our room." Offering him a reassuring smile before motioning for him to follow her. "Come on, let's go get one for you." Kris nods, his heart heavy with embarrassment and frustration. He reluctantly follows his mom back into the house, wishing he didn't need to wear it. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to protest further, to run back to the car and ignore his mother's pleas, but there was nothing he could do. No one at this point would side with him, not with as many accidents he has had. Even a short nap wasn't safe from wetting himself. As they entered his parent's room, Kris couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the sight of the open package of diapers sitting on top of their dresser. He hates the reminder of his vulnerability, the constant need for protection from something as basic as using the bathroom on time. Kim reaches for a diaper, her touch gentle as she holds it out to Kris. "Here you go, sweetheart," she says softly. "I know it's not easy, but it's just for the flight." Kris takes the pull-up from his mom, his fingers trembling slightly as he holds it. With a heavy sigh, he heads toward the master bathroom, his heart sinking with each step. He hates this feeling of helplessness and inability to control his body. Entering the bathroom, Kris closes the door, shutting out the world outside. He stands in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with resignation and frustration. With shaky hands, he begins to undress, peeling off his pants and underwear. He hesitates as he reaches for the pull-up, his fingers hovering over the soft material. He didn't want to wear this on the plane. But what choice does he have? He can't risk having an accident on the plane, and he can't risk further embarrassment in front of his family, let alone strangers! With a heavy heart, Kris finally gathers the courage to put on the pull-up, sliding it up his legs and securing it in place. The familiar feeling of shame washes over him as he adjusts the pull-up, the crinkling sound echoing loudly in the silence of the bathroom. Once the pull-up is on, Kris takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what lies ahead. He knows this won't be easy, knows he'll have to face the mocking stares and whispered taunts of his siblings on the plane. But he also knows he has to do this. With one last glance in the mirror, Kris pulls back up his pants, opens the bathroom door, and steps out to meet his mom. As Kris exits the master bathroom, Kim notices the slight outline around his waistline, indicating the diaper underneath his pants. Concern etches across her face, but she approaches the situation delicately. "Kris, sweetie, are you wearing the diaper?" Kim asks gently, her voice laced with empathy. Kris's cheeks flush with embarrassment as he nods sheepishly, unable to meet his mother's gaze. He feels humiliated at the thought of his mom asking, as if she did not believe he would put it on. "Um, yeah," he mumbles, his voice barely audible. Kim's heart aches for her son, seeing the turmoil he's going through. Wanting to help ease his discomfort, she gestures for him to come closer. With a reassuring smile, she kneels down in front of him, her hands instinctively reaching for the waistband of his pants. "Let me adjust your pants a bit, sweetie," Kim says softly, her touch gentle as she tries to conceal the outline of the diaper discreetly. Kris feels a mixture of mortification and gratitude as his mom tries to help him, not realizing her actions only intensify his embarrassment. He stands frozen, his cheeks burning with shame as he watches his mom's futile attempts to hide the pull-up. Despite Kim's efforts, the diaper remains noticeable beneath Kris's pants, a constant reminder of his vulnerability. Kris's stomach churns with unease, wishing he could disappear into thin air and escape. Sensing Kris's discomfort, she offers him a gentle smile. "There, that's better," she says reassuringly, though she knows it's not. Kris forces a weak smile, his heart heavy with humiliation. "Thanks, Mom," he murmurs, his voice tinged with resignation and defeat. Kim rises to her feet, her heart heavy with worry for her son. She wishes she could take away his pain and make everything better, but she knows it's not that simple. All she can do is offer him love and support as he navigates this challenging journey. With a gentle pat on Kris's shoulder, Kim leads him out of the bedroom and back toward the car, determined to make the best of their Disney World trip despite his problem. As Kris and his mom walk out to the car, Kris can't help but notice the crinkling sound with each step. He can sense his siblings' eyes on him, their silent judgment hanging heavy in the air. Kris's face burns with embarrassment as he climbs into his booster seat, the outline of his pull-up visible through his pants. Without a word, everyone else piles into the car. As the car pulls from the driveway, Kris tries to focus on the passing scenery, but his mind is consumed with thoughts of his pull-up and what his siblings must be thinking. He can't shake the feeling of shame that continues to wash over him, battering him like the constant waves on the shore, a continuous reminder of his bedwetting problems. In the front seat, Kim glances back at Kris, her heart breaking at seeing her son's distress. Feeling his isolation and exposure, his secret now on display for everyone to see. The car ride is tense, the atmosphere thick with unspoken drama. Kris's siblings exchange knowing glances, their eyes lingering on Kris with amusement. Kris tried to shrink into his seat, wishing he could disappear, hoping no one else would bring attention to his problem. Finally, they arrive at the airport, and Kris's anxiety reaches a peak. He knows he'll have to pass through security, where his pull-up may likely be detected by the scanners. The thought fills him with dread, and he can feel the panic rising. Chapter 13: First Flight Kris's excitement for the upcoming trip to Disney World was evident as he stood in line with his family at the airport check-in counter. The vibrant colors of the terminal buzzed around him, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to contain his anticipation. Today was the day they were finally going on their adventure. His parents stood in front of him, their voices filled with cheerful chatter as they conversed with the airline attendant. Behind them, Tammi and Sam whispered excitedly to each other, their eyes wide with wonder at the prospect of meeting their favorite characters. But amid the hustle and bustle of the airport, Kris couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't just the nerves of flying for the first time or the thrill of visiting the happiest place on earth that made him fidgety. No, it was something else entirely. As his parents handed over their suitcases to be checked in, Kris glanced around anxiously, searching for something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then it hit him. He needs to go through security. While his parents handed over their suitcases, Kris couldn't help but notice the security checkpoint nearby. People were going through the scanner, and some were being moved to the side for a pat-down. A shiver ran down Kris's spine as he imagined himself in that position, worried that they might notice his diaper. He glanced around anxiously, hoping no one would pay attention to him. His heart raced as he tried to keep calm, but the fear of being embarrassed in front of so many people gnawed at him. 'Kris, is everything okay?' his mother's voice brought him back to reality. 'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,' Kris replied quickly, forcing a smile. As they approached the security checkpoint, Kris's heart pounded like a drum in his chest, each beat echoing louder in his ears. He watched his family members pass through the scanner ahead of him, each seemingly carefree and unaware of the storm raging within him. Relief floods through Kris when he realizes they don't have any carry-on bags to be inspected—no diapers to be revealed. Still, the fear of getting caught wearing a diaper lingers in the back of his mind. As they inch closer to the security scanner, Kris's palms grow clammy, and he swallows hard, trying to quell the rising panic. His eyes dart around nervously, half-expecting someone to notice the telltale bulkiness of his diaper beneath his clothes. Finally, it was his turn. Kris stepped forward, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him, and he raised his trembling hands above his head as instructed. The scanner beeped, and his heart skipped a beat. A security officer motioned for him to step aside for further screening, and Kris's stomach churned with dread. Kris followed the officer to the side, feeling like all eyes were on him. His cheeks burned with humiliation as he realized what was happening. The security officer began a gentle but thorough pat-down, his gloved hands brushing against Kris's diaper with a feather-light touch. Kris closed his eyes, trying to block out the sensation of exposure and vulnerability. He wished he could disappear, vanish into thin air, and escape this moment of mortification. The TSA agent's soothing voice offered little comfort as he explained each step of the procedure, but Kris was too embarrassed to truly listen. Through half-closed eyes, Kris stole a glance at his family. They stood on the other side of the security checkpoint, waiting patiently, or so it seemed. He could see the subtle curve of his sibling's lips that barely contained laughter dancing in their eyes. They were snickering! The realization hit Kris like a sledgehammer to the gut. They knew. They all knew about his diaper, about his shameful secret. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, and he fought back the sting of tears threatening to spill. The TSA agent's voice broke through Kris's thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "All set, buddy. You did great," the agent said with a reassuring smile. Kris blinked, surprised by the agent's kind words. He glanced at his family, expecting to see mocking smiles or looks of pity, but instead, he saw genuine smiles of encouragement. Even Kyle's usual smirk was replaced by a nod of approval. Finally, the pat-down was over, and Kris could rejoin his family. Feeling relief, Kris managed a weak smile and thanked the TSA agent before hurrying to catch up with his family. As he joined them, his mother enveloped him in a warm hug. 'You did amazing,' she whispered, squeezing him tight. He was still embarrassed that he had to go through that but grateful he didn't get exposed in such a public place. Astonishment hit Kris as they gathered their things and walked to their gate. No one said a word about the incident. His parents were encouraging, Acting like it was no big deal. Even his siblings, who had been giggling just moments before, now wore masks of innocence, their laughter silenced. Kris couldn't understand it. How could they know and yet say nothing? Were they playing some cruel joke on him, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce? Or were they simply too wrapped up in their own excitement for the trip to notice? As the family made their way to the gate, Kris couldn't shake the unease lingering from the security checkpoint. His bladder felt slightly full, but he resisted the urge to use the airport restroom until they got where they needed to go. Since an unpleasant encounter in a public bathroom when he was younger, Kris avoided using them whenever possible. He preferred to wait until he got home or to a familiar place where he felt more comfortable. However, as they reached their gate, Kris realized he couldn't hold it for the whole flight. He tugged at his dad's sleeve, trying to get his attention. "Dad, I need to use the restroom," Kris whispered, hoping his family wouldn't overhear. Kevin glanced down at him. "Sure. Let's go." Kris followed his dad to the nearest restroom, his heart pounding with anxiety. The memories of past taunts and jeers echoed in his mind, making him hesitant to enter. But he knew he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, Kris entered the restroom, his dad waiting just outside. He quickly found an empty stall and locked the door, grateful for its privacy. As he relieved himself, he tried to push aside the memories and focus on the present. As he finished and stepped out of the stall, he noticed a line of guys waiting for their turn. Kris felt a pang of embarrassment, realizing he had taken up a stall when others were waiting. He hurried over to the sink, avoiding eye contact with anyone in line. As Kris hurriedly washed his hands at the sink, trying to avoid eye contact with the line of guys waiting for stalls, he felt the weight of anxiety pressing down on him like a lead blanket. His heart raced as he fumbled with the soap dispenser, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Out of the corner of his eye, Kris caught a glimpse of movement and glanced up at the mirror. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a boy in line, about the same age as Kyle, pointing in his direction, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Panic surged through Kris like an electric shock, sending shivers down his spine. He quickly averted his gaze, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he realized his pull-up was visible to everyone behind him. How could he have been so careless? Frantically, Kris tugged at the hem of his shirt, getting it wet from the hands he was washing, trying to cover up the telltale bulge of his diaper. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and he could feel the weight of their stares bearing down on him like a heavy burden. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Kris's hands trembled as he reached for a paper towel to dry them. Each movement felt like an eternity; his senses heightened and on edge. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, scrutinized for his perceived weakness and shame. As he finally finished drying his hands, Kris dared to steal another glance at the mirror. The boy in line was still staring at him, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Kris's stomach churned with a mixture of humiliation and resentment. As Kris rushed out of the bathroom, his heart still pounding with embarrassment, he found his dad waiting for him just outside, a reassuring smile on his face. "Good, bud?" his dad asks, concern evident in his tone. Kris nods quickly, forcing a smile to mask his discomfort. "Yeah, I'm good," he mumbles, avoiding his dad's gaze. Together, they return to the gate where the rest of the family awaits. Kris sits next to Tammi, his fingers tapping nervously on the armrest as he tries to distract himself from the lingering embarrassment. Pulling out his handheld console, Kris immerses himself in the digital world, his mind seeking solace in the familiar sights and sounds of his favorite game. But even as he loses himself in the virtual adventure, he can't shake the memory of the boy in the restroom; the mocking smirk etched in his mind like a scar. Minutes pass in a blur as Kris tries to lose himself in the game, but a sudden screech of laughter catches his attention. He looks up to see the same boy from the restroom sitting just a few seats away with his family. The boy is engaged in animated conversation with his siblings, his laughter ringing out loud and clear in the bustling terminal. Each of them looks shocked and amused, their eyes darting from their brother to Kris and back with barely concealed amusement but concern from getting caught looking at him. Panic grips Kris's chest as he assumes the worst, his mind racing with thoughts of ridicule and mockery. But before he can dwell on it any further, an announcement blares over the PA system, signaling that it's time to board the plane. As Kris and his family line up to board the plane, his heart sinks a little as he sees the other boy and his family getting up to board the same plane. He tries to keep his head down, hoping to avoid further embarrassment. As they make their way down the narrow aisle of the plane, he can't help but feel self-conscious, hoping no one else will notice his diaper. He quickly finds his seat and settles in, trying to focus on the excitement of the trip rather than his embarrassment. He watches out of the corner of his eye as the other family passes by; the boy seems oblivious to him, then suddenly does a double take, shooting him a smirk as he passes. Kris felt a knot form in his stomach, but he brushed it off. He knows he can't let this random boy's thoughts ruin his trip. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and tries to relax as the plane prepares for takeoff. Chapter 14: Trouble at 30k Feet The steady hum of the airplane engines filled the cabin as Kris settled into his seat, trying to push aside the lingering embarrassment from the restroom incident. He glanced out of the window from his middle seat, watching as the ground gradually fell away beneath them, feeling the G-forces for the first time, noting the weird sensations across his body. As the plane rose higher and higher, he could feel the air shift and the odd sensations easing up as the vast expanse of the blue sky came into sight. Beside him, in the aisle seat, his mother sat, her comforting presence a soothing calm to his nerves. She smiled reassuringly at him, her eyes filled with warmth. Kris couldn't help but feel grateful for her support, even if she was the one who suggested he wear a diaper while on the flight. He could feel the plane leveling out a few minutes in as they reached cruising altitude. The seat belt sign came off, notifying passengers that they were free to move about. Bored, Kris pulled out his handheld to help pass the time, and Kyle, who sat to his right with the window seat, did the same. After an hour or two of flying, Kris started to feel thirsty. He turned to his mom and asked, "Mom, do we have anything to drink?" Kim glanced at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, bud, we didn't bring any drinks with us. But I think the flight attendants will be coming around soon with beverages. You can ask them for something to drink." Sure enough, the flight attendants began their rounds a few moments later, pushing their carts down the narrow aisle. Kris waited patiently for them to reach his row, feeling excited. When the cart finally arrived, a flight attendant looked over to their row, her smile bright and welcoming. 'Would you like something to drink?' she asked, cheerful. Kris nodded eagerly. "Can I have an apple juice, please?" Kim signaled to the flight attendant, who nodded and reached for a chilled bottle of apple juice from the cart. She poured a generous amount into a plastic cup before handing it to Kris with a warm smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy," she said kindly before moving on to the next row of seats. Kris accepted the cup gratefully, taking a sip of the cool, refreshing liquid. As he sipped on the refreshing drink, Kris tried to focus on the excitement of the trip and push aside the embarrassment of wearing a diaper. He glanced out of the window again, over Kyle's console, marveling at the vastness of the sky and the beauty of the world below. Despite everything, he was determined to make the most of this experience and enjoy every moment of their family vacation. Kris continued to sip his apple juice and play his game. He gradually lost track of time, engrossed in the digital world unfolding on the screen in front of him. An hour passed in a blur of animated characters and bright colors, the steady drone of the airplane engines fading into the background. But as another hour ticked by, Kris felt pressure starting to build up in his lower abdomen. It was a familiar feeling he had experienced many times before—a sign that he needed to use the restroom. Kris took another sip of his apple juice, trying to distract himself from the growing discomfort in his abdomen. He glanced at his mom, who was engrossed in a magazine and hesitated before speaking up. "Mom, how much longer until we land?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Kim glanced at her watch before looking back at Kris. "About an hour and a half, honey. Why? Do you need to use the restroom?" Kris felt a wave of panic wash over him. He knew he should probably use the restroom, but the thought of walking down the narrow aisle in his diaper filled him with dread. He shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, I'm okay. I can wait." Kim raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue. "Alright, just let me know if you change your mind." Kris nodded, turning his attention back to his handheld. He tried to focus on the game he was playing, but the pressure in his abdomen was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was useless. Kris's discomfort grew as the minutes ticked by, but he was determined not to use the restroom. He glanced at his siblings, who were all engrossed in their own activities, unaware of his predicament. He felt a pang of envy, wishing he could be carefree like them. As the captain's voice crackled over the intercom, announcing they would begin their descent shortly, Kris felt relief, knowing they would be landing soon. He glanced out of the window, noticing the change in altitude as the plane started its gradual descent. But as the plane descended, Kris felt the pressure in his abdomen intensify. He tried to ignore it, focusing on the game in his hands, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. As the pressure in his abdomen continued to mount, Kris's anxiety heightened. He clenched his teeth, determined to hold on until they landed. But with each passing minute, the discomfort grew more unbearable. He shifted in his seat, trying to alleviate the pressure, but it only seemed to worsen. "M-Mom," Kris stammered, his voice shaky with desperation. "H-How long until we land?" Kim glanced at him, concern etching her features as she noticed his distress. "Not long, honey. Just a few more minutes." "C-Can I please get up to use the restroom now?" Kris stammered, his voice shaky with urgency. Kim looked at him, concern deepening as she observed his distress. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey," she said gently. "But the seatbelt sign is on now, and we're beginning our descent. You'll have to wait until we land." Kris's heart sank at her words, a sinking feeling of dread settling in his stomach. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the rising panic threatening to overwhelm him. With each passing moment, the pressure in his abdomen grew more unbearable. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold on a little longer. He tried to distract himself, looking out the window at the passing clouds, but the discomfort was overwhelming. He shifted in his seat again, feeling the pressure in his abdomen reaching a critical point. Panic surged through him as he realized he might not be able to hold on much longer. Desperate, Kris tried to push up on his seat with his hands, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. But just as he did, he heard a loud, unmistakable sound—a sound that made his heart sink, and his cheeks burn with shame. Squelch... pfft... plop Kris's eyes widened in horror as he felt a heavy weight pushing down in his diaper, warmth spreading rapidly. He froze, unable to comprehend how he had let this happen. Beside him, Kyle looked up from his game, his eyes widening in shock as he realized what had occurred. He turned to Kim, his voice filled with disbelief. "Mom did Kris just..." Kim's eyes widened as she turned to Kris, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Kris, did you...?" Kris shook his head, his face burning with embarrassment. "I-I don't know what happened," he mumbled, unable to meet his mother's gaze. "I-I didn't mean to..." Kim's expression softened as she reached out to comfort him, but Kris pulled away, mortified by what had just transpired. He sat back in his seat, feeling the mess squish against him, the smell wafting up to his nose. He wanted to disappear, to escape this humiliating moment, but he was trapped, unable to leave his seat due to the seat belt sign. Tears welled up in Kris's eyes as he realized the extent of his embarrassment. He had just pooped his diaper on a crowded airplane in front of his entire family and several strangers. He felt shame unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he knew that this moment would haunt him forever. As the plane continued its descent, the smell of Kris's accident began circulating in the cabin. Kris felt his face burn with shame as he realized everyone could smell what had happened. He hunched over in his seat, trying to make himself smaller, wishing he could disappear. Every movement sent shivers down his spine as the mess squished and oozed under him. A few rows back, Kris heard a familiar voice—the boy from the restroom, the one who had seen his diaper. "I bet it's the diaper boy from the bathroom who pooped," the voice spoke loud enough for Kris to hear. He felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over him, knowing that the boy was talking about him. Around him, Kris could hear murmurs and complaints from other passengers. Some were complaining about the smell, wrinkling their noses in disgust. "What's that smell?" one person complained. "It's disgusting," another voice chimed in. "Why do we always have to sit near a baby who poops?" someone else grumbled. Kris's cheeks burned with shame as he listened to the complaints. He wanted to sink into his seat and disappear, to escape the judging gazes and the whispers. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Beside him, Kyle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and sympathy. Kim leaned closer to Kris, speaking in a soft, soothing voice. "It's okay," she said gently. "Accidents happen, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll be landing soon, and then we can get you cleaned up, alright?" forgetting that she had no way of doing so. Kris nodded, grateful for his mom. He knew she was trying to make him feel better, but the shame and embarrassment lingered. He closed his eyes, waiting for the minutes to pass so he could escape this humiliating ordeal. As the plane finally touched down and taxied to the gate, Kris felt a sense of relief wash over him. He couldn't wait to get off the plane and away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers. As soon as the seatbelt sign turned off, Kris unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, eager to escape. As Kris stood up from his seat, the urge to pee hit him with a vengeance. His bladder felt like it was about to burst, and he knew he couldn't hold it any longer. He glanced around frantically, panic rising within him as he realized the humiliating situation he was in. With a deep sense of shame already engulfing him from his recent accident, Kris made a split-second decision. He knew he was already in a dirty diaper, and with the passengers beginning to gather their belongings and make their way off the plane, he felt what's the difference at this point if he used the bathroom or his already soiled pull-up. At that moment, Kris decided to let go, allowing himself to release the pent-up urine into his already soiled diaper. He felt a rush of warmth spreading throughout the diaper as it became increasingly heavy and sagged noticeably. The feeling was both comfortable and mortifying, but Kris couldn't bring himself to care anymore in his overwhelmed state. As Kim gathered her belongings and prepared to exit the plane, Kris couldn't help but notice the stares from several passengers. Some looked disgusted, their noses wrinkling in distaste at the smell emanating from his soiled diaper. A few teenage girls giggled behind their hands, casting mocking glances in his direction, while a group of boys burst out into laughter, their eyes alight with amusement. The boy from the restroom, the one who had seen Kris's diaper earlier, stared at him with a knowing look, nudging his family members as if to say, "I told you so." Kris felt a surge of humiliation wash over him, his cheeks burning with shame as he realized just how visible his predicament was to everyone around him. As Kris waddled off the plane, his diaper heavy and sagging, he felt the weight of his humiliation pressing down on him with each step. His siblings glanced at him, some with pity, others with amusement, but none dared to speak up as they followed their parents through the crowded airport terminal. Kris couldn't bear the stares from the other travelers, their judgmental eyes boring into him like daggers. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he shuffled along, feeling every squish and squelch of his soaked diaper. "Mom," Kris whispered, tugging at Kim's sleeve as they reached the gate. "Can we please go get cleaned up?" Kim's heart sank as she looked down at her son, his face flushed with shame. She glanced around frantically, realizing they didn't have any spare clothes or diapers with them. They hadn't brought carry-ons, and their luggage was being forwarded to the hotel. "Oh, Kris," Kim murmured, her voice filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. We don't have anything with us right now." Kris's eyes widened in dismay, his heart sinking even further as the reality of their situation sank in. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly humiliated, standing there in the middle of the bustling airport terminal with his dirty diaper on display for everyone to see.

All characters are adults. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time your criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not in a good way. Every little shift in someone’s seat, every bump on the road, every red light, even driving straight on a smooth road with light traffic—everything reverberated around the minivan’s interior. Anger and shame echoed off the glass. The click of the turn signal was deafening. And whenever another car pulled next to us at an intersection and either one of us made incidental eye contact with other drivers, the emotion in the car would somehow intensify. I would start tearing up again, but I dared not sob or sniffle my nose—that would only make things worse. My runny eyes and runny nose had already dripped down my face and on to my Sesame Street shirt and the straps of my overalls, but that was hardly the worst mess in my outfit. Lower down, my entire bottom was completely soaked; I’d wet my pants in the car. The wetness had dribbled down to my shoes and wicked up to the lower part of my shirt. My car seat was full of my naughty pee-pees, and I could almost feel it slosh around as we wove around traffic. It was cold now. The little toy mirror attached to my seat had somehow gotten pointed down, and a glance displayed a little baby who couldn’t hold on to use the potty like a big boy, and I just felt like crying again. And worst of all, I could already feel my tummy rumbling, and I would need the potty again soon. I’d never had a poopy accident before, but how could I possibly ask mommy for help now? I had hoped she would calm down during the car ride, but one shared glance in the rear-view mirror showed that wasn’t going to happen. Would I have have two accidents today?! Mercifully, we reached the driveway of our house. Unmercifully, mommy did not pull all the way into the garage. Instead, she parked outside, turned off the car, and turned around to face me. “I can’t believe you’ve had another accident! That’s the fourth time this week you went pee-pee in your nice clothes, and I have to get you cleaned up and clean up the mess you made! And all the bedwetting! Big boys use the potty! They don’t have accidents! Only babies do! Are you a baby?” Mommy’s upbraiding got me crying again. In between wails, I tried to say, “I’m sorry mommy!” but nothing intelligible came out. “I’ve had it with you! I don’t know a single other 34 year old who can’t control themselves. I know you’re big enough to hold your potties. So you must just be doing this to make mommy mad! Is that it?” I continued crying. “Well mission accomplished! So now I’m going to march you into the house, in broad daylight in front of all the neighbors so they can see what a little baby my supposed husband is, and you can stand in the naughty corner while I clean up your car seat.” With that, mommy pressed the button to open the sliding car door while she got out and stomped around the front. Reaching the door, she leaned over me and unbuckled my car seat, getting a real good view of how much I’d peed. “I guess you shouldn’t have had all that juice this morning, huh? Now get out.” I gingerly climbed out of the car and on to the pavement. Some of my cold pee-pee dribbled further down my pants, making me shiver. Now march! Double time! I waddled up the driveway, leaving bid wet footprints behind me. The neighbors were indeed getting an eyefull, watching the woman next door push her pathetic husband into the house with wet pants. What a loser! Mommy led me over to the corner of the living room, the naughty corner, to wait in time out. But then my tummy made another rumble, and I remembered that I still had to go poopy. “Mommy wait! I needa go potty!” “Oh no you don’t, mister! You’re not going to wiggle out of corner time that easily! Your ‘potties’ are all over your clothes and car seat, so I know that’s a lie!” “But mommy…” “No buts! If you so much as budge from that corner, you’re going to get the spanking of a lifetime!” And with that, mommy swooped right out of the room back outside to the driveway, leaving me in the corner. Pants full of pee. Shirt covered in tears and boogies. And a tummy full of poo-poo that really needed to come out. And so I started holding again. The wait dragged on as my tummy growled louder and louder, begging for relief. After a while, I could hear the car door close and the remote lock beep, and I could tell mommy was done cleaning and I could leave time out soon! I was gonna make it! But then I heard voices outside. It was Mrs. Whiting next door. She and mommy had stopped to talk! Oh no! I can’t hold on! “Mommy!” I shouted, the strain causing a little bit of poopy to poke out of my tushy. No answer. My strength giving out, my knees started to buckle, and I involuntarily squatted down. With my last little bit of strength, I squeezed as hard as my could for about a second, then a little fart escaped. My exhausted tushy fell limp, and I felt a real big poopy slide out. It felt firm at first as it shoved out of my body, but got squishy as it dropped into the bottom of my underpants and stretched it out. Another fart, then a second poopy came out, softer than the first. The sensations of all that yucky poopie squishing against me, the loud farting, and stink of my accident was all too much, and I started crying again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, snot was oozing from my nose, and more pee-pee flowed into my pants as I started wetting again. I stood there and wailed for what felt like hours. During a break in my sobs, I could feel there was third wave of poopy inside me, blocked by the pile already sitting in my pants. I just wanted it out, so I squatted down some more and pushed. Another small squirt of pee came out, and then a glob of very mushy poop burst out of my… “Oh my god, you are not serious!” During all my crying, I hadn’t noticed mommy had come back in and was standing in the doorway. She saw her crying husband with a fresh puddle around his feet, squatting down and pooping his pants. “Now you’re messing yourself?!” I didn’t answer with any words, just a fresh round of crying. My face was purple now. I lightly stomped my feet, and a small piece of poopie dripped down my leg. Mommy swooped in, grabbed my by the ear, and whisked me upstairs. I wailed all the way into the bathroom. I wailed the whole time mommy swiped off my soggy shoes, my cold socks, my stained shirt, my dripping overalls, and finally, my wet and poopy underpants, slipping down my legs and landing on the floor with a thump. I stood naked in the bathroom, shivering with cold and fear. I knew what was coming. Mommy silently emptied my messy underwear into the toilet and put the rest of my clothes in the special hamper we have for my accident clothes. She also took a wet-wipe from the counter and gave my tush a cursory wipe, confirming the dread punishment I was in for. She turned on the bathtub faucet to let it fill, took the special hairbrush from the counter, lowered the toilet seat cover, sat down, and looked dead at me. “Come here.” “Please mommy, I’ll try harder! I won’t poop my pants again, I promise!” “I said, come here!” Quivering with pathetic fear, I gingerly walked over to mommy, and knelt down over her lap. “Do you know what you did wrong?” “I had a potty accident in my pants.” Tears were coming again. I put my hands behind my back. Without warning, mommy grabbed my two crossed wrists and began spanking. I started bucking and wailing as blows rained down on my reddening cheeks, mommy berating me with every stroke: “BIG! BOYS! DON’T! WET! Their PANTS! They USE! The POTTY! ONLY! BABIES! WET! And POOP! Their PANTS! ONLY! BABIES! CRY! STUPID! CRYING! PISSY! STINKY! BABY!” The room was awash in noise with mommy’s shouting, my crying, and the water faucet’s roar. It wasn’t until I cried so hard that I started choking on my own sobs that mommy finally relented. As suddenly as they began, the blows stopped and I was told to stand up again. Mommy put the brush away and turned the faucet off. She tested the water temperature, and motioned for me to get in. I gingerly lowered myself into the water, wincing as my red tushy touched the water. I sat down and just tried to catch my breath. I felt drained from everything that had happened, and I could only flop around limply while mommy took a bath sponge and started soaping me up. “I’m going to mark two accidents on your potty chart today. Do you know how many days this week you’ve been accident-free?” I shook my head no. “Just once, four days ago. And that’s only because I was being nice.” I remembered that trip to the potty. I had already dribbled a lot by the time I made it to the training potty in the hallway, and my underpants had a silver-dollar-sized wet spot on them. It sure felt like an accident, especially once I was finished and had to pull my cold underpants back up. And then, wet pants and tears three days in a row, finished off with a big poopy mess. “And you’re wetting the bed every night, too! That’s why you’re so tired and cranky during the day.” Mommy’s voice was softening. What did she mean? “I think someone’s not quite ready for big boy pants, hm?” Mommy took the shower spray and got my hair wet, then started massaging in shampoo. “If you can’t use the potty like a big boy, then the only solution is for you to start wearing your diapers again.” Oh no! Not that! Please! I’m not a baby! I’ll be good! I wanted to scream and thrash in the tub, but I was too tired, and all that came out was a moaned, “Noooo…” “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re still too little.” She started spraying the shampoo out of my hair. “If you can’t hold your pee-pees and poopies for the big boy potty, then you’re just going to have to wear diapers for all your accidents.” “No, no, no, no, no…” My moan was now barely a mutter. Everything inside me was gone. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t use the potty… I really was just a baby! Mommy pulled the plug in the bathtub and started toweling me off, even while I softly blubbered. “I think you’re going to need a nap once I get your diaper on.” “Noooo naaaap!” “I’m getting mighty sick of hearing you whine ‘no’ over and over again. Now lets go get your baby pants on, unless you just want to stand here naked all day? You want that? You want to make mommy mad?” Still quietly sobbing, I shuffled over toward my bedroom, if you could call it that. More like a nursery. Mommy wouldn’t let me sleep with her anymore since I kept wetting the bed, and that was usually where Mister Robert slept when he stayed over, so there was no room for me. I slept and took naps in the guest room instead, which mommy had decorated with teddy bear and train decals on the walls, and Sesame Street or Pup Patrol bedsheets, whichever set wasn’t in the washing machine, on the bed (along with an uncomfortable plastic sheet). Toddler toys and stuffed animals were strewn around the floor, and there was still a faint smell of pee-pee in the air from previous nights’ accidents. Once she ushered me into the room and closed the door, she walked over to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of milk. Silently, she put in the bottle warmer sitting on top, then strode over to the closet and retrieved an unopened bag of diapers (she’d bought them to threaten me a week ago), a big beach towel, and a small bag I’d never seen before. All with a kind of scary efficiency, she unfurled the towel on the floor and set the diapers and bag down next to it. She turned to me with a cold look. “Lay down.” “Please, mommy…” She looked at her once-husband, still softly sobbing, cheeks wet with tears, a fresh coating of snot bubbling out of my nose and down over my mouth and down my chin, clutching a towel over my shoulders, shivering, my little pee-pee shriveled up even more than usual… A one-time junior law partner reduced to something so… “Pathetic,” she muttered. “I said, lay down.” “But I don’ wanna…” “LAY DOWN FOR YOUR DIAPER OR I SWEAR…” I crept a little closer, and then mommy grabbed my arm and, somehow without throwing me, quickly put me on my back on the makeshift changing pad, almost pinning me. She opened the plastic bag of diapers, pulled one out and started fluffing it, making sure I got a good look at the design. It was decorated with baby circus animals, each wearing its own diaper, and a few with pacifiers, baby bottles, rattles, and other infantile things. Once she was done fluffing, she opened it wide. “Lift your butt, diaper boy.” I never stopped sobbing. I obeyed and lifted my hips slightly, and mommy slid my diaper under me. Reaching into the mysterious bag, she then produced a bottle of baby powder and started sprinkling its snow all over my little pee-pee and tushy, rubbing it in with her other hand. I was embarrassed, but I liked the scent. Finally, she folded my diaper up over me, its cushioned stuffing hugging all my potty parts, and fastened the tapes. The whole time, she muttered, “Can’t use the toilet, can’t use the plastic potty in the hall, can’t hold his piss in the car, and now can’t hold his poop. Baby diapers it is.” The whole time, I just kept crying. “I’ll have to get a changing table for you, so I don’t have to bend over on the floor.” Once I was taped up, she got up and went to my dresser to get a new shirt. I sat up and looked at the puffy, crinkly diaper bulging between my legs. Every time I moved, the plastic crackled like firecrackers. I gingerly reached down to feel the plastic… “NO! You may not remove your diapers! Understand?” She lightly smacked my hand. “Now stand up.” I got up from the towel, trying to adjust my stance for all the padding between my legs. As I steadied myself, a long string of snot dripped down from my nose onto the towel. “Ugh, gross,” mommy said in disgust. She reached down back into the bag and got a pack of baby wipes. She took one and started roughly wiping my face down, removing the tears and snot. “You’re just a mess on both ends, aren’t you? Now arms up.” I complied, and she brought down a clean t-shirt over my head, one that had “BABY” in toy blocks printed on the front, and was just a little short, leaving my diaper on full display. “Now get into bed for your nap. Your bottle should be ready now.” I mournfully shuffled over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. Even after washing, there was still a dingy yellow stain there from repeated wettings, a reminder of why I was in the predicament. As I laid down, mommy came over with a warm bottle… and Jake. Jake was my best friend. He never yelled at me when I had accidents. He never called me stupid or smelly. He was always ready to give me hugs and comfort me. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my only friend. I was so grateful Jake would stay with me for my nap. I reached out for him and clutched him close. “Now drink this. Maybe then you’ll calm down.” I was reluctant, since I wasn’t thirsty, and I was worried I’d wet the bed again if I drank anything. I shook my head no. “Well if you’re going to nap without your bottle, maybe you can nap without Jake.” I squeezed Jake tighter and moaned. “Then open up.” I opened my mouth a little and mommy slid the nipple in. Without thinking, I started suckling, and the warm milk started squirting out into my mouth, down my throat, and into my tummy. Mommy gently guided my free hand over the bottle and helped me grasp it, then pulled up the sheets. “Now don’t get out of bed until I tell you, and don’t try to take off your diaper. Just drink your bottle, and I’ll do some laundry.” With that, she turned off the lights, left the room, and closed the door. I kept suckling my bottle on autopilot while I looked at my situation. I was back in diapers, and I didn’t know how long until mommy let me try to potty train. I reached down under the blankie and felt the plastic covering my pee-pee. I knew I wouldn’t get the bed all wet, but I was still sad I couldn’t be a big boy anymore. I took the bottle out of my mouth and turned to Jake. “Can I still be a big boy?” I listened to Jake’s answer, then I responded. “I guess so. Mommy knows best.” I kept suckling the warm milk out of the bottle until it was all done. I was so sleepy from all the chaos that’d happened. Just as it was empty, I let the bottle fall from my mouth and hugged Jake tighter. At least I was warm. Warm from the milkies, warm from my blankie, warm from Jakie, and warm in my diapie… Did I just have another accident? I fell asleep before I could answer.

Jessie pounded on the sorority house door, fighting back the furious tears that threatened to ruin her makeup. Her feet were sore and her legs ached from walking, but her dignity had been hurt far more. The girls of Delta Lambda had accepted her as a pledge–or, that’s what they’d promised. Jessie had expected a little hazing. Maybe a hand in a bowl of peeled grapes and telling her it was eyeballs, or having her do shots and flash some boys at a party, something harmless and a bit fun in hindsight. The girls hadn’t gone for ‘harmless fun’, they’d gone for a social torpedo. ‘All the pledges have to run through the campus fountain naked,’ they’d said, but while Jessie stripped, the others had stolen her clothes, leaving behind only a diaper and a crop-cut T-shirt that barely came down enough to cover her nipples, though the top half of a teddy bear could still be distinguished above the cut line. Then they’d abandoned her, declaring she could have her clothes when she got back to the house. Jessie had been left with an awful choice–put on the humiliating granny diaper, or attempt to streak the four miles between the fountain and the sorority house. She’d gone with the diaper, but on a Friday night, that still meant being seen by probably the entire student body and then some as she trudged back, holding off tears. And now they weren’t letting her in. “Pledge, you forgot to run through the fountain!” one of the sisters taunted through the window. “You have to go back and do it right!” “Asshole!” Jessie yelled back. “Let me in!” Instead of replying, the girl just raised her phone, snapping a picture of Jessie before she could try and hide her obvious diaper. “I wonder what Jamie will think of this?” She laughed sarcastically as she name-dropped Jessie’s boyfriend. “I bet this’ll finally convince him you’re third base material, huh?” Eyes widening, Jessie shook her head, raising a hand in protest. “Don’t send that!” “Sent!” the girl declared. “If you want your clothes–and your phone–back, go do the fountain run. You know the rules, pledge.” Anger rising, Jessie snapped, “I wish–” “Don’t care,” she replied, cutting her off with an eye roll. And with that she wandered away, leaving Jessie on the stoop, alone, humiliated, and defeated. She could try and walk back to her dorm, but it would be even further than the fountain, and her keys were still in her pants, locked inside the sorority house. Maybe someone would lend her a phone, but she didn’t want to go asking strangers for help–she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. “Tsk, tsk–this just won’t do at all.” The tiny voice came from right behind Jessie, and she turned in alarm, expecting someone to be standing right on the front walk, but she saw nobody. She did, however, feel a prodding sensation down at the seat of her diaper. “We can do so much better than this!” Jessie yelped and stepped forward, whirling again, and this time she saw her: Not even six inches tall, with iridescent butterfly wings, the pixie wore a simple blouse and long skirt with an apron over the ensemble. Jaw falling open, Jessie searched for words but found none. “Those mean girls just don’t understand,” the pixie said, shaking her head and frowning as she took a toothpick-sized wand from her apron’s pocket. “But don’t worry–I’m here to make sure that no Little Girls will ever have to hide what they are!” (What? ‘Little Girl?’ Is she talking about me?) Jessie wondered, but before she could ask the question aloud, the pixie flicked her want. With a burst of starry sparkles, magic burst into life, splashing against the front of Jessie’s diaper and dousing it with color. The plain white plastic poofed out like popcorn, doubling in thickness in an eyeblink, and the thin blue stripes and medical aesthetic were replaced with pinks and purples, a design dominated by a cutesy rabbit. “I–hey!” Jessie blurted, hands lowering to try and cover the infinitely more embarrassing diaper. She looked around, but her tormentor at the window had left. “What the heck?” “Oh, do you prefer the lions?” the pixie asked, tilting her head and tapping her wand against her lips. “You know, you Adult Babies have it easy these days–it wasn’t too long ago, you’d have to settle for solid colors if you got any designs at all! Now–that top, it’s just no good, is it?” Jessie’s eyes widened as she tried to understand what the pixie meant. (Adult Babies? What is she talking about?) Before any further objections could be raised, she flicked the star wand again, and the cut-off tee shirt spooled out, threading itself into a new form–it laced over her diaper and between her legs, metal buttons snapping snugly over her new, far thicker diaper. Jessie looked down at herself, eyes widening. Her outfit was infinitely worse–at least the crop top could claim to have a little sex appeal, but the bright pink onesie had rainbows and unicorns printed all across it, and over her uniquely puffy bottom, glittery ruffles poofed into existence as the finishing touch. She gaped, turning to try and get a look at the ruffles, spinning in place for a few steps. “Stop it!” she yelped. “I don’t want any of this baby crap!” The pixie rolled her eyes and sighed in a good natured way. “Sweetie, just because those other girls tease you doesn’t mean you should hide who you are–but if you won’t allow yourself to be yourself, I’ll happily give you a little nudge in that direction!” Flitting around Jessie, she tapped her wand right over the woman’s onesie-covered tummy, and the magic kicked in immediately. Jessie felt sudden warmth burst into her diaper as her bladder drained without warning, quickly soaking into the thirsty padding. She lowered her hands to cover her crotch, though the onesie did an admirable job of hiding the accident. The snaps even prevented much in the way of diaper sag, but while it could hide her accidents, it couldn’t prevent them. Even as she bent to try and conceal her humiliating clothes, she felt a gurgling in her belly. When she tried to clench, Jessie found she had no control, and so she couldn’t stop herself from immediately pushing out the contents of her bowels into the diaper. Her attempts to stop the accident only emphasized how helpless she’d become, unable to stem the tide of gross mush that swelled against her skin. She blushed, her cheeks feeling almost as warm as her saturated diaper, humiliation building as the back of her diaper bulged and grew heavy, enough that even her onesie struggled a bit, stretching and succumbing to the telltale sag that indicated a dirty diaper to observant onlookers. “You–you little imp!” Jessie snarled, raging at the fairy. “I don’t hate this just because they’re teasing me! Why can’t you just do what I want you to do? I don’t. Like. Diapers!” “If you don’t, then why did you put one on for everyone to see? Someone’s knee-deep in denial, I think!” The pixie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot, though since hovered like a hummingbird, the taps just fell on thin air. “A certain Little Girl sure is being fussy. I’d normally think it’s because she needs a change, but she was like this before, so maybe she just needs to relax a bit and get off her feet.” Jessie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, no–” But the spell was already cast, and her knees wobbled like jelly as the pixie stole her balance. Falling back, she plopped down onto the ground, landing on her ruffled diaper seat with a mucky squish that made her blush increase in intensity. “A little rest will do you good, and if you need to get around, you can have fun crawling, Littles always like that,” the fairy cooed. “And I must say–you’re much cuter like th–” “Put me back!” Jessie demanded, mortified, worried that one of the sorority sisters might snap another photo of her like this. Spread-legged on the ground, in a diaper full enough to strain the snaps on her baby doll onesie, she would give anything to make sure nobody got a photo of this. “Before someone sees!” “Oh, fuss, fuss, fuss.” The fairy flicked her wrist casually, and a pacifier appeared between Jessie’s lips, one that was specially sealed so that only a grown up could remove it. She grumbled into it, face screwing up in petulant anger, but the fairy ignored her, scratching her chin in thought. “Okay, she’s clearly upset–but what else could a Little want? I’ve given her all the general fantasies, so…” A few giggles echoed from behind the sorority house door, and the fairy–invisible to everyone but Jessie–snapped her fingers as she understood. Floating down to hover in front of Jessie’s teary, humiliated, and particularly angry face, the fairy said, “I know what it is, sweetie–you’re embarrassed, because you don’t want the other girls to see what a cute baby you are. But, don’t worry, I’m going to fix all of this.” Jessie started to relax, until she added, “Let’s just clear up all those nasty big girl thoughts, okay?” “Nnmmph!” Jessie blabbered into her pacifier, too late to stop a spark of magic from tapping her right between the eyes, and… (Um…) (Why was I cranky?) Jessie blinked a few times, a thin line of drool trickling out from behind her pacifier guard. She looked up at the fairy, eyes slightly hazed. She was a bit cold, but not terribly. Her diaper felt nice and warm and squishy, and her pacifier helped her calm down a bit. Something smelled, but it didn’t bother her terribly much, she just needed… (What do I need?) “Alright, little one,” the fairy said. “I have one more thing to take care of–and remember, magic is real, and wishes for Little Girls do come true!” With a puff of glitter, she darted off into the night, leaving Jessie alone. She still felt her heart pound with anxiety, but couldn’t place why. (I don’t gotta potty, I…the diapers…my diapers make sure I’m safe!) (Um…) (I’m so pretty, pink is such a nice color!) But, if she liked everything about herself–her diaper, her pacifier, her onesie–why did she still feel worried? She sniffled, uncertain why she felt like she might cry, but before her unfamiliar emotions overwhelmed her, she saw something blue. (I like blue!) It wasn’t just any old blue thing though, it was a blue car. A big blue car that could go really fast! Maybe she could sit on Daddy’s lap and he’d let her turn the steering wheel– (Oh! Daddy!) Jamie got out of the driver’s side, eyes widening when he saw her sitting on the ground. “Jessie?” he called, quickly running over to her, crouching by her side. “Shh, baby, it’s okay–Daddy’s here.” She giggled, opening her arms for a hug. More than just hugging her, Jamie scooped her up, lifting Jessie off the ground. He was strong, and she was light enough to always get picked as the flier on the cheer squad, so he hefted her easily, one hand cradling the seat of her diaper. “Smells like someone needs a freshie,” he said, giving her bottom a playful squeeze. “We’ll get that taken care of soon, okay?” Jessie squirmed happily–this was what she’d been missing. Her boyfriend–her daddy, here to take care of her. Carrying her to his car, Jamie paused by the door, removing the pacifier from between Jessie’s lips. “Who’s my lovely little baby girl?” he asked, cooing at her. She could have answered with words, but she knew a better way. Leaning up, she kissed him, and he held her close as he kissed her back. In the distance, a diminutive fairy watched, smiling at the scene, content with how she’d handled it. Though noone was around to hear, she whispered to herself, a quiet affirmation. “Another happy ending.” There were more and more little girls every night, it seemed–and she would give them all what they wanted, just like she had with Jessie. ... Written for bricks66 Comments and feedback always appreciated! Hey y'all, I could use a favor! gofund.me/37aecafd I'm raising money to help a friend and ABDL colleague of mine move after finding out she's going to be out of job and home soon. Let's show her some love, ok? I normally try and promote my own work here, but right now I want to make sure that another author and cool person in the community is taken care of. ❤️