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Before reading the first part of this story, please know that it is the first story that I ever published and I am just getting started with writing. The following story is 100% fictional and should be treated as such. Having said that, please enjoy and any feedback is welcome. I have just been through the most embarrassing moment of my life, and it would be easy to blame my mother who definitively played a big part in it, but I do have to take ownership as well, after all, it is what I asked for. My name is Nathalie, and I am 24 years old and currently doing my master’s in computer science at the University of Birmingham, while studying I am still living at home to save money on rent. Actually if I want to write down what happened completely I can't just put it down, I want to have a complete record on how everything happened that led me to that specific moment. The beginning of this story starts, when I was eighteen and in the last years of high school. I was never one of the most popular girls, but I had a good group of friends, and I was even voted second for Prom-queen due to my good looks. One might consider it bad manners to refer to oneself as good looking. And I do agree that this sometimes can come across wrong, but I want to give a complete picture. I am 165cm, have green eyes and long brown hair. Doing sports has always been one of my favourite ways of spending free time, be it in the gym or running outside, I enjoyed most of all activities. All in all, I had a pretty normal life and even started dating when suddenly my parents got pregnant again and had my little brother Chris. I have always been proud that my parents choose to have me. When I was sixteen, they sat me down and talked to me about how they had troubles conceiving and that they used some help in order to get pregnant. It made me feel special and loved. would think that one would be ecstatic when getting a younger sibling but for me it was the complete opposite, I can’t quite explain it, I have never hogged the attention of adults or anything remotely similar to that, but I did really like my life. It had a clear structure and Chris changed that. Writing this out, does make me feel terrible and I sincerely feel bad, but I can’t change my feelings, even though I wished they were different. When Chris was born, I started acting up, I broke up with most of my social circle, I even stopped dating the boy that I had been seeing for the last two months, stayed out past my curfew and basically did everything that defied my parent’s expectations. To their credit they did let me act out for a while, but after they saw that I wasn’t returning to normal, they took me to a therapist to talk about what’s going on. The first few session were me being completely closed off, not answering, I just didn’t want to be there. It got better. I don’t know why and can’t remember the question that finally let me to open up, but somehow my therapist got through to me and it just snapped. I think I just talked for over an hour, unable to stop, luckily, I had the last session of the day, because I really don’t think I could have stopped talking at that time. I talked about everything, my plan in life, my feeling towards my baby brother and how I am hurt by the love that my parents show to him instead of just me anymore, feeling excluded from the family that I considered to be mine. I later found out that having those feeling is actually not that uncommon for someone who has been an only child for a while. They even have a name for this phenomenon but can’t remember it at the moment. With my permission Thomas, which is the name of the therapist, my parents, and I sat together, and they just listened to me expressing those feelings. I think I have never been more nervous then right before this session, I imagined all the different scenarios of how my parents will react to me, if they will hate or shame me for of my feelings. But nothing like this happened. I can’t 100% recall the whole session but I will never forget the feeling of relief that I had right afterwards. During this session Thomas gave us both a homework exercise, my parents had to write down special things they could do with me that they enjoy and that would strengthen our relationship, and I had to write down five scenarios were I felt disconnected and not included. The list, that’s the name I gave to the paper where I had to write down five things that made me feel excluded. It was easier to write my whole bachelor thesis then to start with that assignment. I thought that I could come up with at least 50 different examples but sitting in front of the paper, not a single one came to mind. That’s actually a lie. I had one concrete example, but I just couldn’t put it down. It would be to embarrassing. The List: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. The list stayed empty, it stayed like that for nearly a week when it was time to get together again and talk about the things that we came up. I clearly remember sitting in the waiting room, having arrived earlier than my parents, and contemplating if I should put on, my one item. I nearly didn’t. I don’t know what changed my mind, it must have been the session before, the feeling of trust and love that I got from my parents, or maybe it was something different that I just can’t name, but I did put one example down. The List: 1. Diaper change.

Chapter one A soft spring sun promised a beautiful summer. The kids were back outside after the long winter. It was still chilly but the direct rays of the sun were lovely and the coats had been left at home. Quietly two boys were busy with each other, with their sleeves rolled up, hidden behind a garden house where they sat out of sight of the house, sheltered from the wind and unwanted looks. “Well, then we're blood brothers now.” Dries said, pressing his bloodied wrist against Jasper's. They looked at each other with joy. It was Dries who had taken the lead in the whole thing, but Jasper was happy to go along with it. They had been best friends for a long time and shared all the joys and sorrows. If they weren't at Dries' house, they could be found two blocks away at Jasper's house or on the playground between the two families. Often an extra place was covered at the table if Jasper or Dries lingered in one of the two houses. When Jasper or Dries went on holiday, and they couldn't see each other for more than three days, they both felt a big knot in their stomach because of the loss. “Now that we are blood brothers, we should never keep secrets from each other and share everything.” Dries continued. “And if you reveal a secret to someone else, your hand falls off.” he also said. Dries meant what he said, but Jasper wasn't so sure about the latter. But it made no difference to him, he would never betray the trust of his best friend. It had been Dries who had made the whole thing up. He had read about it in a book about how they used to do it and brought it up to Jasper. He wanted to become blood brothers and Jasper went along with it. At Dries's request, Jasper had brought a pocket knife from his big brother and together they hid behind Dries's garden house. Dries had thought out the ritual completely. First ask the great spirits to be witnesses. Then they vowed about what it meant to be blood brothers. “I swear I will protect my blood brother from now on. I will share all my love and all my grief with him. I swear that I will always protect him. My secret is his secret, and his will be mine. I swear I will never do anything to betray my blood brother's trust.” Then they blessed the knife. “O great spirits, behold this knife with which we shall seal our bond.” Dries said, holding the knife up in the direction of the sun. Dries took the knife and cut his forearm with it. Not that it mattered much. The knife was rather blunt and there was no more than a scratch showing a small drop of blood in two places. Dries decided that was adequate. It was painful enough, and nothing Dries had read about it said how much blood it took. Jasper repeated the ritual to himself and offered his wrist to Dries, after which he placed his on it. “Well, then we're blood brothers now.” Jasper wiped the knife on his pants, closed the knife and put it back in his pocket. The two friends sat down next to each other and both sucked on their wounds to wipe off the blood. “I'm glad we're blood brothers now.” Dries said. Jasper nodded convincingly yes. He had never been much of a talker, but that wasn't a problem for their friendship. They understood each other. “Dries, come and eat!” called Kathy, Dries' mother. Quickly Dries and Jasper rushed to Dries' house. “Ah, are you there Jasper?” Kathy said. “Does your mum know?” Jasper nodded quickly yes, he had indeed shouted something like that to his mother this afternoon before he left. “Slide on Jasper, I'll send your mum a message. Which of your two mums is home?” Kathy then continued. “Mommy Helga is home.” said Jasper. “Mommy Celine has to work today.” Kathy quickly took her cell phone and sent a message to Helga. << Your piggy gets his food here today. 😉 >> and Helga's answer came quickly. <<Thank you, send that monkey of yours here tomorrow, and he will get his ration here.>> they had known each other since their children started school, but they got on well. While Kathy was exchanging messages with his mom, Jasper took an extra plate and cutlery and put them on the table. Dries meanwhile took another glass and the five of them quickly sat down at the table. Heleen, Dries' big sister, and their father were also there. “Oh Dries and Jasper. Your hands are still dirty. Are you coming to the tap? I'll help.” Heleen was thirteen, five years older than Dries and Jasper. She was such an overly caring type of sister who was very protective of Dries. Having Jasper around only made her happier, because it meant she had two 'victims' for her good intentions instead of one. Jasper and Dries usually let her do it. It could be useful if they needed help for something, but sometimes this mothering was quite disturbing. The time at the table was filled with conversation. After dinner, Dries and Jasper continued to play inside. Dries took the Lego from his room and in the living room they started to build a castle that hopefully could withstand the attack of a dragon. Jasper used to ask if they couldn't just go and play in Dries' room, but that was never allowed. After a while, Jasper stopped asking. Different house, different rules, he thought quietly. After an hour of building, Kathy's cell phone rang. <<That piggy of mine can go to the stable. It's early morning training for him and he has to get up early. Are you sending him? Grtz Helga>> Kathy immediately turned to the boys. “Come Jasper, it's time to go to sleep sends your mother. Better at home in your own bed than here. Right?” “Of course,” Jasper replied sadly. On the one hand, he would have liked to have played a little longer. (the castle was not finished yet) and on the other hand he really wanted to spend the night with Dries. He had asked that several times, but it had never happened. There had always been a reason. (It's school tomorrow, there's training tomorrow, Dries is tired from last night and should definitely sleep well now,... ) Reason after reason every invitation or proposal was declined and it never happened. Finally, Jasper had given up asking. “Hey Jasper. Put on your coat and shoes and go home. Your mama is waiting.” urged Kathy Dries said goodbye to Jasper as he put on his things. “Come on Dries. Leave upstairs now. Then you can go straight to bed as well.” Dries' mom finished as she quickly helped Jasper tie his shoelaces. Kathy checked on the street whether Jasper was crossing properly, after which she went inside to put her son to bed. Jasper came home in a good mood. “Nice play at Dries?” Helga asked her son as he came in. Jasper nodded cheerfully yes. “I'm always sad when it's over.” Helga took Jasper upstairs to get him ready for bed. Pyjamas, brushing teeth, toilet and finally a story. Jasper can of course already read himself, but being read to (with mummy who does those loverly voices) makes it even more fun. Chapter two A week later, Dries and Jasper were again sitting behind the garden house in the afternoon. "Remember last week?" Dries asked Jasper. Jasper looked up at Dries in surprise. He remembered what they had done here last week, something important that he would not forget easily. A blood oath is something for life. Jasper believed in sharing the whole message with joy and sorrow, keeping no secrets from each other. But why did Dries have to sit and shift so uncomfortably? Jasper became worried that something bad was happening. “Remember when we swore we weren't going to keep any secrets from each other?” Dries continued, blushing slightly. “Of course I remember that Dries. You and me. We are blood brothers. You can tell me anything and I swore I would never tell anyone else." Jasper replied. Jasper didn't have to hesitate about his answer. He meant it with all his heart. Dries looked sharply in all directions to make sure no one was around. When Jasper saw what he was doing, he looked nervously around the corner of the garden house, but no one was there either. "Come here." whispered Dries quietly. Jasper moved his buttocks a bit and came forward with his ear to be able to understand Dries. Jasper was afraid of what was about to come. Dries had never been so ashamed to say something. "I still do pee in bed at night and you promised not to tell anyone." Dries whispered urgently and hurriedly into Jasper's ear. Jasper looked in surprise at Dries. Was he still wetting the bed? Babies only did that, didn't they? Jasper wasn't sure what to do with this information. He was going to keep it to himself, Dries was his best friend, after all, but what was he supposed to do with it? Why had Dries said that? All these questions were running through Jasper's mind. Dries looked anxiously back at Jasper, waiting for an answer. The silence, short as it was, was painful and made him fear the worst. "Now that you know that, you can sleep here." Dries added quietly. That turned the dime in the right direction for Jasper. "Really, can I sleep over? Yay! at last!" exclaimed Jasper. "I'm going to ask your mum if she sends a message to mine to ask if that's allowed." Jasper chattered away. Forgetting the bed-wetting, the two children rushed in to get their parents' permission. "Mommy, can Jasper sleep here?" Dries asked. Dries's mom thougth for a moment. They had to get up early tomorrow to visit grandpa and grandma, so it wasn't really a good idea. But it was the first time that Dries had asked a friend to spend the night. She knew why, he was ashamed of wetting the bed. It didn't really work out, but she didn't want to discourage the first step. "that's fine for me, but we're also going to ask Jasper's mum first." Kathy said. "Know Jasper that you have to go home quickly tomorrow morning, because we are leaving. Go on playing, I'll send a message to your mom." << Hey, my monkey has asked your pig to spend the night here. Is that possible? Greetings Kathy>> << That's good for me. Does my pig know about your monkey's problem? Greetings Helga>> <<I don't know. I'll talk to them soon. K>> <<Are you going to send my piggy home afterwards? Then I give him a bag with some sleeping stuff. H>> <<Okay, that's good. I've got a spare pillow and sheets here, he don't have to bring that. K>> << That's good, how long can he stay? H.>> << I'll send him back between nine and ten am. My in-laws are expecting us tomorrow afternoon. K>> << That's good, I'll see him coming.>> After the messages were exchanged, Kathy, Dries' mother, went looking for her son and Jasper. "I've just exchanged a few messages with Helga. Jasper, it's good for her too, your mom allows you to sleep here." "Yippee!" the two boys shouted in unison. They were really looking forward to it. Dries was a bit worried about how the evening would go. He had told Jasper that he wet the bed, but not everything that went with it. "Jasper, there is something else I have to tell you about Dries." Dries blushed because he immediately knew what was coming. "Dries just told me that he wets the bed at night." Jasper told Kathy. Kathy smiled. "That is indeed true. Did he also tell you that there is nothing he can do about it?" "No, not yet, what do you mean?" Jasper then asked. "For some children, the wetting goes away quickly on its own, while for others it takes longer. That is quite normal. There are many children who wet the bed, but no one knows about it because no one says anything about it. In your class there are probably be two or three other children besides Dries who also wet the bed." "I didn't know that, I thought only very young children did that." said Jasper carefully, not wanting to offend his best friend. "Of course not. Some big kids, even bigger than you, have that problem too." Dries' mother assured Jasper. Dries looked a bit puzzled. He didn't like his mother discussing his 'nocturnal problem' with anyone else, even if it was his best friend. Assured that Jasper had understood that Dries could not help it, and Dries assured that he really had nothing to be ashamed of, she sent both children to Jasper's house so that they could collect his things. Armed with pyjamas, a cuddly toy, toothbrush, toothpaste and a change of clothes for the next day, Jasper and Dries returned to Dries' house. "take those things upstairs right away. I'll help you make your bed." said Kathy. Jasper followed Dries carefully upstairs. He had never been upstairs before and did a curious look around the room. He saw the boxes of toys, a desk with his schoolwork, the bed, bedside table and two large closets. "Wow, so big and beautiful." Jasper said as he slowly turned around and then sat down on the bed. "Why was I never allowed to come here?" he asked, feeling with his hand on the mattress that strange thing that made such a strange noise. "So you wouldn't feel the plastic over the mattress." said Dries with red jaws. "It protects the mattress in case I wet the sheets. You would have known that I wet the bed." "That's all right, don't worry about it." Jasper said. "I'm so glad I can stay with you now." Dries' mum came in with a folding bed and a set of sheets. "Here Jasper, will you put your pillow in the pillowcase?" she asked, fiddling with mattress protectors and sheets herself. A few minutes later the bed was nicely set up. Dries displayed Jasper's stuffed animal nicely on the headboard and afterwards they went downstairs towards the living room. With everything in order now, the boys set to work on the Lego castle where they had been working on the week before. There were still a few walls to go and a tower that had to be built as high as possible. That way, the catapult would be able to protect the castle from the dragon. After dinner the boys worked and played for a while, until it was time to go to bed. "Here Jasper. Take your pyjamas and go to the bathroom. Dries, which pyjamas do you want?" Jasper went to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. While he was busy brushing his teeth, he heard the toilet flush next to the bathroom. A little later Dries came in in his pyjamas and grabbed his toothbrush. He had apparently changed into his pyjamas in his room. Jasper went to the toilet and then to Dries' room. Dries' mum was already waiting with a story book in her hands. Jasper's eyes started to sparkle. He loved stories. "We are waiting for Dries, and when he's ready we'll start." Dries came out of the bathroom a little later and settled on the other side of his mum. Kathy opened the book and started. "The Knight Princess. Once upon a time there was a princess, who was stronger and tougher than…" The boys enjoyed the story from start to finish. They each got another 'good night kiss' and the lights went out. Jasper tossed and turned in his bed. It wasn't just him, another room, another bed. And now he was also curious about Dries' bed-wetting. What would that look like? Jasper's head was full with questions, but he didn't dare ask them. It's because Dries' dad had been very strict. If he had to come upstairs to the bedroom once because they were being too noisy, this would also be the last sleepover. And Jasper hoped there would be many more could follow after this first one. It took a while before he found his peace, but Dries's calm breathing was somewhat contagious and eventually he too also fell asleep. Jasper woke up to the light coming through the curtains. At home he always had to lie down until it was eight o'clock, but here he didn't see a clock anywhere. Carefully he tried to look at Dries to see if he was awake yet. Because the guest bed was so much lower, he couldn't see anything. Carefully he tried to sit up, but the bed made a terrible noise when he moved. Jasper so stopped and lay still. He thought that the noise of that bed would certainly wake Dries' parents, and he didn't want that. He wanted to behave as well as possible so that he could certainly do more sleepovers. Jasper remained lying there for another five minutes (according to his feelings). "Dries, are you awake?" he asked finally Jasper listened for a moment as he whispered, but heard nothing. Maybe he was not whispering loud enough. "Dries, are you awake?" followed again, this time a bit louder. Now Dries must have heard it. Jasper did indeed hear movement in Dries' bed. Dries turned around and everything rustled. There was also a low murmur coming from the bed but is wasn't clear enough to be understood. "Dries, louder, I didn't understand you." Jasper said now more than he whispered to Dries. "Yes, what is is, is it time already?" said Dries again. "Are you still asleep?" Jasper asked Dries. Quietly, Jasper began to see his mistake. But Dries was awake now and they started to play. Not much later (or so it felt) Dries' mum came in and it was really time to get up. Kathy had a busy schedule and urged the children to hurry. "Jasper, go downstairs and start eating. Helga will pick you up in half an hour. Dries has to come with us, we are going to visit his grandparents." Heleen was already eating at the table downstairs. "Sit down. I'll make you a sandwich. What do you want on it?" she asked Jasper. Jasper chose the strange blue and white crackling spread. He had only eaten it once before and thought it tasted good. While Heleen was busy smearing, the rest of the family also came down. Dries even had already all his clothes on! Jasper was just nibbling the last of his sandwich when his mother came to the door. "Go and get changed quickly Jasper, we will leave then too." Kathy said. In no time at all Jasper was upstairs and in his clothes. He quickly said goodbye to the family and walked home with his mother. There was a quick honk and wave as Dries drove by with his family. "Can Dries come and stay overnight next week?" Jasper asked his mother longingly as he watched the car pull out of the streat. Chapter 3 The next school day was started with making plans for the following weekend. The family was going on a day trip to a nearby forest and Dries was going along. Jasper knew the perfect secret spot to build a camp, and no one else would be able to find it in the play forest. Jasper was sure of it. During the lesson, they made a minute-by-minute plan on a scrap of paper from Dries when the teacher called them to order. When the construction plans for the camp were taken away the next day at school, Jasper and Dries were furious. All their ideas gone! On the third day of school they lost their list of materials and on the fourth day of school, to their surprise, the map they had made of the area around the camp was taken away. Did their teacher really not understand where the priorities lay? All the work they had done for the past week was thinly redone on Friday afternoon during playtime. "At least now they have no reason to take away our work." Dries growled between his teeth. Jasper nodded softly. He was redrawing the map with the tip of his tongue between his lips. "Jasper. That's your calligraphy book you got there. What are you doing now!" a weary teacher bellowed over the heads of the two children. All week they had been more busy with each other than with the lessons. "Why didn't you just ask for some paper? Give me that notebook here." Disappointed, Jasper handed over his calligraphy. All their work for nothing again. But as determined the children wanted to make their preparations, so unpredictable is the weather. When Dries rang Jasper's doorbell from under his umbrella in the morning, instead of the promised spring sunshine, there were clouds, rain and a lot of wind. The forest was closed because the risk of trees or branches falling was too high due to the stormy weather, so the trip was therefore cancelled. They discussed the craziest punishments they could give the weatherman while playing a board game called Hotel. In the end, they came up with a fake marriage proposal between their teacher and the weatherman. In the end, they were the ones who ruined their weekend. The board game was alternated with electric racing cars, Monopoly, making a bed, Playmobil, normal cars and a game called Gold Diggers. The only strange moment was when Dries made his bed. As usual, the careless Dries scattered and threw everything around, for example he bounced his cuddly toy off the ceiling into the bed. He aimed his toothbrush and toothpaste from three metres at the sink and remained at one-half metres and thirty cm from the target respectively. But just as he picked up his pyjamas and was about to throw them at the bed, he changed his mind. Cautiously, he walked to his pillow and carefully slid his pyjamas under his pillow like the nice package they were. Then the clean clothes for the next day flew towards the chair. Jasper looked surprised for a moment, wondering where this break in Dries 'normal' behaviour had come from. But soon his attention shifted to the next activity and the moment was forgotten. A couple of hours and one figuratively exploded house later, the boys were lying paralysed in their seats, on the verge of boredom. "Come and slide on you snot noses." Gert, Jasper's big brother came in and, as always, immediately asserted himself. He always wanted the best seat on the couch. And that was exactly where Jasper was sitting. Jasper knew he had to leave Gert his spot, but on one or another way, Jasper always seemed to sit in Gert's 'best spot'. Jasper rolled out of the seat and quickly scrambled out of the way towards Dries so to avoid being crushed under Gert. The 'move on' was the only warning he received and Jasper knew he had to hurry if he didn't want to face any consequences, big or small, from his brother. Gert was twice as old, twice as strong, twice as heavy,... He enjoyed the power he had over these two 'little buggers.' or 'snot noses' as he sometimes puts it. Clicking on Helga, Jasper's mum, would help for a short while, but later that day or the day after, Gert would always make it clear why clicking was an 'unwanted behavior' and what the consequences were. For Gert, this 'unwanted behavior' had to be suppressed as quickly as possible, preferably in the most original way possible. Originality to Gert usually meant a combination of hands or feet and pain. Gert lived by the standard that small, cute and sweet by definition did not belong to little brothers. He had a few life motto's that Gert lived up to as best he could. 'The strongest rise to the top' 'If you can't win, you have to cheat.' and finally: 'Growing up and grow tall is the cure for everything.' What he thought was perfectly normal when he was still eight years old, he now thinks as a sixteen years old, that all these things are for toddlers and babies. No one is allowed to say that as an eight-year-old he still had fun with Lego, Playmobil or playing on playgrounds. In short: Gert and Jasper preferred to deny each other's existence and their live together was based on a fragile and above all unequal balance of power. Gert would turn off the children's channel, which the two boys used to try to combat their boredom, and he switched to a series about the most uninteresting subject there was. Slowly, they trudged from the sofa to the kitchen in search of something else. Helga made the final preparations for dinner. “Good to have you boys. If you'd like to put your pyjamas on now, you can play Mario Kart after dinner. Otherwise it will be time to go to bed almost immediately after dinner." Dries and Jasper did not hesitate. Dries didn't have a Nintendo at home and Jasper's parents didn't usually let them play electronic games when Dries was around. The two boys stormed upstairs. Jasper pulled out his favourite onesie. Dries left a trail of clothes from the door to the bed and was already pulling on the top of his pyjamas when Jasper came in. Jasper sat down on the bed to take off his stockings when he saw Dries picking up his pyjama bottoms. Excited as Dries was, he had forgotten which 'package' was still folded between his pyjama bottoms. While Dries jerked the pants, another piece of clothing and something white came out between the pants. Red-faced, Dries dove after it and quickly muffled them both under the sheets. Of course, with Jasper sitting right next to him, the attempt to do it in secret was doomed from the start. "What's that?" Jasper asked as he pulled back the covers. "My nappy for when I wet the bed." Dries stammered as he tried to pull the covers back up. "Isn't it too small for you?" Jasper asked, ignoring Dries' attempt to hide it and grabbing the diaper. "Does it fit? I didn't know it existed that big?" Jasper's interest was aroused. He looked closely at the front. There was a picture of a lion with a blue-green stripe at the top... Dries watched with tears in his eyes as Jasper discovered his secret. "I didn't know you wear that," Jasper said, turning the diaper around to all sides to feel and see. Dries let out a huge sigh of frustration. "Yes, I wear it. As the only one in the whole world out of everyone who is eight. Mum says there are some more, but I don't believe her. I've never seen anyone else wearing a nappy!" Jasper looked at Dries doubtfully. "Neither have I," he replied after considering for a long time and not thinking of anyone else. Dries was the only one he knew who was still wetting the bed. Dries let the tears of humiliation flow freely down his cheeks. He felt so unhappy. He felt alone in the world. Jasper looked at Dries uneasily. He noticed the tears and tried to retrace his steps. "Would you really be the only one? Do they make those nappies just for you?" he asked quietly. Dries shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know anyone. I've never seen anyone as big as me wearing one." Dries sobbed, taking long breaths in between. Jasper couldn't stand it, Dries' sadness, and he wanted to do his best to cheer her up. "There must be someone." "No, I've never seen anyone else wearing it. I'm really alone!" "You're not alone. I'm here, aren't I?" Jasper said as he held Dries to comfort him. Jasper hadn't quite understood yet. “But you never wear nappies," Dries cried. Jasper was silent. He indeed never wore a nappy. The boys continued to dress in silence. Dries sobbed over everything that had happened, Jasper thought about everything he had just seen and heard. It was a lot to take in. Dries quickly tucked his nappy and what looked like a T-shirt under the blanket and together they walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Helga looked at the boys in surprise as they returned. The usual chatter was much less than usual and Dries' eyes were a little red and puffy. "Are you all right?" she asked Dries. Dries nodded quietly as he sat down at the table. Helga was curious as to what had been going on between the children, but as they seemed affected but not actively arguing, she let it go. The meal went smoothly, except that Gert was asserting himself. These little children had nothing important to say to him, so the only one worth talking to was himself. After dinner (ribs, oven fries and applesauce), a few games of Mario Kart were played. Jasper usually won the most, because he obviously could have practised a lot more. But this time Dries had a much better chance. Jasper's mind was elsewhere. Dries' exclamation that he was the only one, and that was why he was so unhappy, echoed in his head. And Jasper, sweet and sensitive boy that he was, wanted to see Dries as happy as possible. He tried to come up with various plans, but they are not always realistic or feasible. There are certainly other eight-year-old children who wear nappies at night. But where do you find them? And once you've found them, how can you convince them to admit that they wear them too? Organizing a survey in the football/classroom/friends group might do the trick, but who will be brave enough to admit it? Hide in the shop and see who buys nappy's? Most of the time it will be mums and dads buying them, and you don't know which child it's for or how old they are. And how would Jasper persuade his parents to let him spend half a day in the supermarket doing 'a bit of research'? If not by the boss of the supermarket being thrown out on suspicion of criminal activity. And a tour of the village, ringing bells everywhere, was probably as successful as the chance to win Euromilions. Jasper was calm as he lost round after round of the game. He was quiet when they had to stop playing and were sent upstairs. His head kept spinning and he hadn't noticed that Dries had gone into his room alone with his mother. Until Dries was standing next to him, brushing his teeth. Then Jasper saw that the outline of the nappy was clearly visible in Dries' pyjama bottoms. When Jasper rinsed his mouth, he could hardly take his eyes off it. Dries saw that and the tears came back to his eyes. "I'm sorry," Jasper said, looking away in embarrassment. “I don't want to hurt you," Jasper whispered softly to him. Chapter 4 The children were read a short story by Jasper's mum (The Amazing Tree House with 13 Floors), and with the message that she did not want to come up again to silence the children, she closed the door. “Dries?” Jasper whispered as he heard his mother going down the stairs. “Yes, what is it?” Dries replied. “Shouldn't we be quiet?” “If we whisper it will work. I've been thinking,” Jasper said. Because you feel so alone, because you don't know anyone else who also wears a nappy. I want to help you and I've been thinking about how to find someone else, but I'm not quite sure how...” “See I'm the only one. I'll never see anyone else I know wearing a nappy,” Dries sobbed. “But I know a solution,” Jasper said. “If I put one on right now. Then you won't be so alone anymore.” “Really?” Dries asked. “Are you serious? Would you do that for me?” “Yes,” Jasper whispered back softly. “I'll do anything for you.” Dries' eyes watered again, but this time not from sadness. He knew he had a good friend in Jasper, but he had no idea he would go to such lengths for him. “Give me one and we'll do it right away,” Jasper whispered, curious to know what his friend went through every night. But he also wanted to do it now, before his courage failed him. Now he had enough courage for it, tomorrow during the day he might feel differently. “I can't,” Dries said. “I only have the one I'm wearing. I can't give you another one.” “Then next time at your place.” Jasper said before he knew it. What did I promise now? he asked himself. “Thank you,” Dries said. “You're the best friend anyone could have.” “Don't mention it,” Jasper replied. “Sleep well.” “Sleep well,” Dries whispered before laying his head down. Jasper turned around soon after, both children far away in dreamland. The week passed quickly and the following weekend they had an appointment at Dries' house. Dries had asked several times during the week if Jasper was really going to put on a nappy for him. Sometimes Jasper doubted whether it was a good idea to secretly put on one of Dries' nappies, but the look on Dries' face every time Jasper confirmed immediately knocked all doubts out of him. He would make Dries extremely happy by putting on a nappy as well. Jasper was worried about what would happen if they found out. Would Dries' mom see that an extra nappy was missing from the bag? Would she come into the room at night and see it? Would she then tell his own mothers? What would they say? Jasper was very nervous and afraid of being discovered. He wasn't really afraid of wearing a nappy once, after all he made Dries very happy with it. He was dreading a possible discovery and everything that would come with it. Jasper had gone to Dries' house after lunch that Saturday. He put his luggage in the room and then got ready with Dries to catch reptiles together. Armed with two buckets and two nets, they headed for the stream. After catching one Dries insisted they were salamanders, but Jasper was sure they were lizards. They didn't really know the difference. When they asked Heleen for a definite answer, she only gave them a third option. Heleen joined in and told a whole story about knights, dragons and magic. According to her, these creatures were the distant descendants of ferocious dragons that had been reduced to their present form by the combined strength of two knights (a certain Jasper and Dries), a few elves, wizards, fairies and a whole lot of magic. Jasper and Dries enjoyed the story Heleen had told them, but they were still wondering whether it was a lizard or a salamander. While preparing the beds, Dries and Jasper had secretly taken a diaper from the bathroom and placed it at under the duvet at the foot of Jasper's cot. Kathy, Dries' mother, realised that they were busy with 'plans', but that happened so often. Kathy was not worried, because the next day usually brought stories of great adventures. The evening went well. After dinner, Jasper, Dries and Heleen played another boardgame of Hotel until it was time to go to bed. After Dries and Jasper had gotten dressed and gone to bed, there was a brief moment when there was a close call. Kathy opened the beds so that the children could crawl under the covers, and the diaper that lay at the foot of Jasper's bed was barely exposed. The children lay in bed, listening carefully as Kathy went downstairs. They quietly counted to the agreed hundred, after which Dries declared it safe to carry out their plan. Jasper dug out the nappy from the foot of the bed. It took a while. Finding the front, trying out the tapes, sticking it on again, and after a few well-intentioned tips, explanations and help from Dries, it was more or less fixed. Dries had even pulled down his pyjama bottoms, with red cheeks, then opened his body and pulled it up to show how it should look. When Jasper compared it to himself, it wasn't quite as nicely centred and mirrored, but it didn't fall off as soon as he stood up, so it was good enough. This time Jasper zipped up his second favourite onesie and crawled back into his sleeping bag. Dries beamed with joy. Jasper really was his best friend. There was no one in the world who had a better friend than him. He gave him a quick hug in gratitude. Jasper also felt a little lighter and happier under Dries' positive attention. They were best friends, and the good bond they already had got a huge boost. After some more careful whispering back and forth, Dries fell asleep with a blissful smile on his face. Jasper tossed and turned a little longer. The sensation of the nappy between his legs was exciting, exhilarating and soothing all at the same time. He was still enjoying the smile on Dries' face and he regularly ran his hand between his legs and over his bottom to feel the nappy and listen to the sound it made. He was not very comfortable. It sat a little crooked, pinching one groin more than the other, and he felt that it was all a little too loose. He turned restlessly and fell asleep a little later, lulled by Dries' calm breathing. Jasper woke up a little later in the middle of the night. He had forgotten to pee before going to bed. Nature called and he stumbled across the room, more asleep than awake, towards the door. He turned left towards the toilet and took two steps forward. By the third step he was wide awake and suddenly remembered several things at once: One: He was not at home, but at a sleepover with Dries. Two: The toilet was on the right side of the hall, not on the left. Three: What was on the left was the stairs. Four: When his foot failed to land where he thought it would, falling instead into an empty space, he knew he was on the Staircase.

Hi guys! Here are the first two chapters for Araceli's Descent Into Babyhood. You can find chapter three and four already added to my website: The Padded Playground. There are new stories like Finding Mommy, Bully - A Mother's Forced Regression, and more. Be sure to check them out. Araceli's Descent Into Babyhood Lena looked around the room. It was a nursery, but everything was bigger than normal. A play pen in the middle filled with blankets and toys that could fit multiple adults in it. A crib on one corner, big enough for two adult women, and that crib wasn’t empty. Inside, a woman with olive skin and dark brown messy hair slept peacefully. She was naked but for a diaper, which was clearly wet. Araceli was sucking her thumb, probably dreaming about her past life. A life she had spent in the streets of Lima, begging for money to support herself and her children. Now, here she was, in America. In Lena’s home, sleeping like a baby, for a lack of a better word. Lena turned to see the camera pointed at the crib, recording Araceli’s every movement. And she couldn’t help but thinking about how she had made everything possible. How she turned the beggar mother into an ABDL superstar around the world. If the baby wasn’t sleeping she would’ve laughed diabolically. It was, after all, something only a villain would’ve done. Turn a mother from the streets into her perfect baby angel, submissive to her every command. Lena could’t deny it, she was proud of it. Chapter 1 Lena’s New Idea Lena looked at her phone and the endless notifications from her last post. It was a simple photo shoot of her wetting her diaper and then getting changed by a random fan she chose. It had gotten a lot of interactions; everyone wanted to have been that fan, and that kept her followers wanting more. But, if she was honest with herself, it wasn't the same anymore. She sighed, looking down the car window. The city was unlike anything she had seen before. A beautiful and endless green pier at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean and she wasn't even in the nice part of the city yet. Perhaps, in the future, she thought, she could leave it behind. The idea of having to wear diapers and wetting or messing them up to make money for the rest of her life didn't seem as enticing as when she started selling content. She was running out of ideas to keep her followers satisfied. True, it gave her enough money to live a comfortable life. Not something the average ABDL content creator could say, but then again, not everyone had her hourglass figure and piercing blue eyes combined with long blonde hair, making her look like a baby Viking goddess when she was on character. At almost twenty-five, Lena couldn't have asked for better genetics. Her thoughts came back to the present when the car stopped, and she went down. The warmth of Lima radiated against her porcelain skin as she strolled past the elegant facade of the five-star hotel. In the heart of Lima's touristic district, restaurants and malls and beautiful parks were everywhere. And yet, on the streets, beggars. The taxi driver had told her they were Venezuelans, escaping from the horrors of socialism in their own country. Though, he pointed out, it wasn't that much better in Peru. Lena didn't know what to say, so she just nodded and smiled. Politics weren’t her thing. If anything, she just wanted to pay as little taxes as possible and not be bothered by anyone. But, confronted with it now, she felt sad for them. Something she could’ve just shake off once she was inside the hotel and that would’ve been it. And then it happened. She saw her first. Amidst the crowd, a woman in her late thirties with a beautiful tan, olive skin, and the deepest black eyes. She was tall for a Latina but with the natural curves of her people. Big breasts and a soft face, almost too soft for someone living in the streets. At that moment, Lena got an idea that would change her life and the life of that beautiful older woman who was asking for money from any and every tourist. Could it actually be possible that the beggar was the answer to her question? "Welcome to the Lima J.W. Marriott," said the guard, bringing her back into reality and helping Lena with her luggage. Lena didn’t answer. She was deep in thought. She didn’t want to be rude. No. But there was an idea forming in her mind. She felt the diaper around her crotch getting warmer. And the feeling of her urine against her skin confirmed what she wanted. She wanted out, and this was her opportunity. "Miss?" the guard asked again. "Could you get them inside," asked Lena, "I'll be back in a second. Thanks.” She rushed off, almost running, though the thick diaper wouldn’t allow too much movement. She rushed towards the woman she had seen, and stopped only when she was close enough to see her better. Her eyes had not lie. If she were clean and better fed, the mature woman could’ve been a former model. One of those Venezuelan ones that used to win every Miss Universe competition. "Excuse me," Lena began tentatively, not wanting to offend or scare the struggling mature woman, “Excuse me.” "Disculpe?" asked the woman, “Tiene dinero?” Lena smiled, giving her a ten-dollar bill, "English?" The woman nodded, "Little." "What's your name?” "Araceli." Looking at her closely, Lena could spot the dirt and stains in Araceli's clothing. She had probably haven't showered in a while. Her hair was messy and chaotic. She had lines around her eyes and dry lips. And yet, there was potential there that remained undiscovered. Exotic and sexy and, because of the woman’s demeanor, cuteness. With the right makeover and a proper cleanup - yeah, that would work. It would be perfect, and Lena’s own excitement made her already wet diaper soaked with her own juices. She could imagine herself diapering the woman, treating her like a baby for all her followers to see. She would be the mommy, not the baby anymore. Of course, she wouldn’t give up diapers. They were more for comfort and convenience than anything else. But yes, Araceli was the ideal candidate for her little experiment. She smiled, devilishly and charmingly, "Would you like more money?" Araceli nodded vigorously, "Yes, please.” "What would you do for it?" "How much?" "A thousand. Cash, I guess you don't really have a bank account, do you?” Araceli shook her head, "What do I do?" "Do you know what a diaper is?” Araceli nodded, though her eyes were perplexed at the question, "Babies, changes.” "Yeah," said Lena, "I'll give you a thousand dollars if you let me put one on you and then let me take photos and record it. It will be classy. Just one night. In my hotel room. No one else will be there. Just you and me.” Araceli looked lost for a second before she answered, "Porn?" Lena nodded, "A type of. But nothing too sexual unless you want to. Look, it's a lot of money, not just for someone living on the streets, but in general. Think about it. If you choose to do it, come to my hotel room. I'm in the penthouse. Ask for Miss Stone." Without letting the mature woman answer, she turned around, smiling, and walked back to her hotel. She stopped by the front door, right beside the security guard who had greeted her a few minutes before. He still had her luggage and a welcoming smile. "If the woman I was talking with comes asking for me. Show her to my room," she said, hanging him a fifty-dollar bill, "There's more if you're discreet about it." The guard’s smile grew bigger, “Yes, ma’am. Welcome to Lima City." Lena entered the hotel, "I'm going to like it here." Chapter 2 Mother & Daughter Araceli looked at her daughter. She was eagerly eating the street burger she had bought for them. Ten dollars wasn't a big thing for them gringos, but for her, it was life-changing. Her daughter had not known the taste of nice food in a while, and knowing she could change that for good made Araceli consider the proposal of the crazy white lady who gave her the money. Porn? Porn? But with diapers. It just didn't sound good. She said not really porn. Nothing too sexual. Was there not going to be coitus? Was it just the diaper? Those crazy people from first-world countries were really into some weird stuff, weren't they? "Are you okay, mom?" asked Maria. She looked like a clone of her mother but in the body of a nineteen-year-old. Even malnutrition hadn't taken away her beauty, and it was her beauty they were counting on when they escaped Venezuela. But when they arrived, they realized no matter how pretty they were, there were hundreds upon hundreds of them. Most Peruvians hated them, too. There were no opportunities. Chileans hated them. Argentinians hated them. Brazilians hated them. They were banned from El Salvador. It seemed they could only go to America, but getting there was the problem. Easy to go in, difficult to get there. "Mom?" asked Maria again. Araceli looked at her daughter and smiled, "Eat, honey.” Maria did as told. Mothers, especially those from Latin countries, would do anything for their kids. And if she wanted to call herself a real mother, she needed to step up. She couldn't let her daughter starve. And they needed a home. Somewhere to live. A thousand dollars was enough to rent an apartment for three months or more if they were smart about it. Maybe buy some cheap clothes. Eat properly for a while. But the shame of what she needed to do prevented her from committing to that decision. "Mom. That's it. Tell me what's going on," said Maria once more. Her daughter had always been more bossy and dominant than herself. It had gotten her into trouble, especially in a culture that didn't allow that on women. But Maria was also smart, maybe not street smart, but smart nonetheless. Emotionally smart would be the right word. "It's nothing, honey," she said, "I just got...a proposal." "A proposal?” Araceli nodded, "Yeah, a money-type proposal." "A job?” Araceli hesitated to share more with her daughter, but they were close. Best friends. There were no secrets between them, and that alone was the only reason they had survived so far. Together, they were stronger. They complemented each other. And her hesitation faded as she explained what had happened earlier that day. "Diapers? Porn? You aren't thinking about doing this. Are you?" asked Maria. Araceli nodded, "It's a lot of money. We could find a place to live." She looked around. They were sitting in a dark park, hoping no one would force them out until the morning. "But it's no different than having sex for money! No. You won't do it. I forbid it.” "I'm the mother.” "Yes, but I'm the one that takes care of us.” "Enough," said Araceli, putting her foot down for the very first time in her life, "I'm the adult here. You're only nineteen. I decide what we do, and if I decide I'm taking the offer, I will. No discussion." There was a moment of awkward silence between the two. Araceli tried to look away, giving her daughter some sense of space. Though, they dared not to get too far away from each other at night. "If I had a room, I'd rush there and stomp the door," said Maria, and Araceli chuckled, and she did, too, "When do you have to do it?" …………………………………………… In her hotel, Lena had everything ready. She had bought diapers she was sure would fit Araceli. They had different bodies and hers wouldn’t actually cut it for what she intended. She also got more baby powder and baby wipes for diaper changes. Her camera was already set up. And she had the cash ready. She even ordered food and alcohol, perhaps, it would help break the ice. And now she waited. It would be her first time as someone's caregiver. The idea itself was exhilarating, enough to create a sense of warmness between her crotch. Knowing Araceli was vanilla and, like most people in the region, probably conservative, made the entire idea even more exciting. Controlling someone twice her age was something she had never expected, but it was a welcomed change. While she waited, she thought, why not? Her finger found their way to her wet pussy, caressing it slowly and carefully at first, thinking about the mature woman who she would soon put back in diapers. Lena was never meant to be the baby. She had always craved to be in charge. And now she was close to it and as the thought came to her mind, she reached the best climax she had had in ages. Her heart was beating fast and she was sweating slightly, and she was naked on top of the bed. It was going to be an interesting experience, that was for sure. She smiled and kept waiting. …………………………………………… Araceli didn't know what to say or how to act. Everyone in the hotel looked at her as if she had some sort of disease. She kept telling herself it was for her daughter, but she had to admit, that it was mostly for her. She wanted a better life. A different life. Her daughter didn’t mind. She didn’t lost everything when communism destroyed her country. She was born in poverty already, and it’s easier to live knowing you haven’t lost anything than it is to accept what you had is gone. She sighed as she found her way around the hotel hallways and stairs. She dared not take the elevator. Her smell alone would make it unpleasant for everyone, so she took the long route to the penthouse floor where the security guard told her Lena would be waiting. The outside of the hotel was luxurious and elegant, but inside, it was like something out of her imagination. If this was how people lived in countries with decent economies, was it better somewhere else? America, perhaps, was as good as her acquaintances had told her. She walked down the aisles and through, looking for the room where she would earn money enough to change her daughter’s life for good. If only it didn’t mean dishonoring herself. If only she didn’t have to submit to others’ demands to survive. She cursed her luck as the thought of being diapered again by someone much younger than her rushed through her brain. Would it be that bad? She had no time to answer herself as she reached Lena’s room. Hesitant, she knocked, and within a few seconds, the door opened. She took a deep breath and stepped in. The room was dimly lit, but she could make out the figure of a woman, younger than herself, sitting on a couch. She was sipping on a glass of wine, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light. The fragrance of fresh flowers filled the air, and soft, sensuous music played in the background. It was a surreal environment, so far removed from her reality that it left her feeling like she had walked into a dream. "Hola, Araceli," Lena greeted her warmly, setting her glass down on the table, "That's about as much Spanish you'll hear from me, though." There was a long pause as Araceli closed the door behind her. “Are you ready for this?” Asked Lena. Araceli nodded, hesitant about her answer, but knowing there was no other way for her.

Kayla is the CEO of a successful company. But she's been on kind of a mean steak lately. Not just her attitude, but she's also cut some employees salaries and benefits. Her right hand lady, Julie isn't too happy with that. Julie has requested that Kayla come to her office so she can talk to her

Edit: I don't know what the formatting issue is, but feel free to read this again in a more comfortable and viewable font and please leave comments unrelated to this formatting mistake. I started this on Christmas break, but I did not post it because it wasn't complete, so I guess you get to read it out of season. I would like feedback other than, "It's almost the end of April." There are two Christmas songs that everyone hates and I included them both. I also included a Christmas song that I hate too, which really started the thing and gave me the idea for the story. What if Christmas songs came true with the consequences of a bad genie wish? Santa Baby I lay down on the bed in my dorm room submitting to a diaper change from my roommate. “When is this ever going away?” I asked. I shivered as the cold wipe ran over my privates and then slid around on my bottom. “It’s your own fault,” said Sherry. “I warned you about that song. So what did the doctor say?” “Ugh,” I said. “He said nothing is physically wrong with me and it’s all psychological, but both the incontinence and ‘53 convertible in blue are real.” Sherry pulled the front of the diaper between my legs and taped the diaper shut. I sat up and held my arms up as she got me into my dress. “Thanks for putting up with this,” I said. “It’s embarrassing that I have to ask for help since I can’t undo diaper tapes. That is also psychological because I am not so weak I can’t untapped a diaper.” “No problem, Liz,” she said. “You are letting me drive a convertible wherever we need to go out. I don’t mine pampering you a bit.” So how did I end up being diapered by my roommate after completing an entire semester and most of my life without having a single accident? In this story, I will tell all about it. After the first semester, my roommate Sherry and I put an ad up on the bulletin board for a ride home from college for Christmas. Our ad was answered by a young man name Henry or Hank as he preferred to be called. He was from the next town over to us from when we were in high school and Sherry agreed to take him with us, so the three of us rode toward home. We walked out to the parking lot with our luggage and Hank waited for us. “Hi. I’m Hank,” he said. “Well, you probably know that.” “Let’s get things loaded up so we can go,” said Sherry She led us to her old Nissan that had seen better days and opened the trunk so we could put our meager amount of luggage inside. We each only brought enough to get through winter break and not much else. We didn’t even bring our computers, but left those in the dorm. We piled into the car and Hank took shotgun. I had to sit in the back with Hank’s bag of laundry. The seats in the car were threadbare cloth seats and paint was peeling and rusting. He laughed. “I’d never thought I’d be fraternizing with two Dragons,” he said. “I was a lineman for the Fighting Eagles, so I would never have hung out with you two in high school.” Sherry frowned. “We are all Cardinals now. High school stuff doesn’t matter anymore.” “Right,” he said, “Let’s head off to Dragonland. I want to be home in time for my mother’s Christmas Eve dinner.” We drove through the college town. The completely empty college town that had been empty for two weeks so far, but all three of us had to be in town because our bosses at our part time jobs didn’t want to give us off. Sherry turned on the freeway and then we immediately got behind bumper to bumper traffic. “Looks like all these cars are trying to get away on Christmas Eve,” said Hank. I sighed, but then Sherry asked, “Well, I usually take the state highway, but I thought the interstate would be safer if we ran into a snow storm, don’t cha think?” “That makes sense,” I said, “but I need to be home for Christmas. This is the first Christmas my family is getting together since the pandemic ended.” Hank seemed to be quiet as we crept along the freeway, but by the time we reached the next exit, Sherry pulled off the freeway and drove back toward the state highway. “I want to get home too, so I guess we are not taking the freeway.” Once on the state highway, we drove along at a much faster pace. The car had warmed up nicely and I leaned against Hank’s laundry and fell asleep. # I woke up as the car slowed down. I looked around, but Sherry had driven off onto a side road and we were headed toward a small town. “What’s up?” I asked. I could barely see ahead of us due to the snow coming down. It almost looked like we were going through hyperspace on the Millennial Falcon with the snow coming down. “I just stopped for gas,” said Sherry. “I didn’t fill up because gas is so much more expensive in our college town. They raise the prices just for students leaving during break.” The car drove toward a small town. “I don’t like this,” I said. “The weather is pretty bad.” “It’s fine,” said Sherry. “We just get gas and then we get back on the state highway and continue on our journey home.” We pulled into the town. I read the sign out loud. “Welcome to Christmas Town. Absolutely no singing of Christmas songs is allowed.” “Cute that the town is called Christmas Town, don’t cha know?” said Sherry. She pulled onto a roundabout in the center of town which went around a small pond. “No Christmas songs allowed? What are they going to do if I sing in the car?” He began to sing. “Grandma got run over by a reindeer. Coming home to our house Christmas Eve?” I saw it first. There was a blur of brown fur and then a terrible crash and the spun out and rolled over and landed on the roof. We were pushed into the frozen pond by the momentum. “What happened?” asked Sherry. “I think we were hit by a deer or something,” I said. “Are both of you all right?” asked Hank. “I’m fine,” said Sherry. “I’m a bit shaken up, don’t cha know.” “I landed on your laundry bag,” I said, “so that broke my fall.” Suddenly, there was a cracking sound, and the rear of the car fell through the ice and sank into the water. I immediately was drenched as I plunged under the icy water. The front of the car was still above the broken ice and Hank and Sherry got out before the rest of the car slid into the icy pond. I was in an immediate panic. I could barely move, I was so parallelized by the cold, but I kicked off the backseat into the front seat and managed to swim out the door to the top off the ice. Strong hands grabbed me under my arms and pulled me out of the water and onto the ice. I shivered and couldn’t feel my feet or my hands, so Hank had to pull me across the ice and back onto the road. “What are we going to do? Liz got soaked and she’ll freeze to death because it’s so cold outside,” said Sherry. Around us was the downtown area of the town with it’s frozen pond in the center where our car had sunk into the icy hole. At first I had shivered as the icy cold water bit against my skin. However after a few minutes, my clothes stifled me and I had to take them off. I shrugged off my wet coat and started to take down my bluejeans. “What do you think you’re doing?” asked Sherry. “Leave your clothes on.” “But I’m so hot,” I complained. Hank took both me and Sherry by the collar and steered us to the nearest building. It was locked, but he took a long metal hook from his pocket and slid it into the crack between the two glass doors and popped the lock open. We walked inside. I was still hot and pulled my unzipped pants down and then grabbed to pull off my wet t-shirt. “Liz, it’s cold. Don’t undress or you will freeze to death,” said Sherry. “No. She needs to take off those wet clothes before she freezes. Let’s find something warm and dry for her. Until then…” He removed his coat and wrapped it around me since I had stripped to a just my underwear.” “No, I’m hot. I’m burning up,” I complained as he zipped his coat around me. I felt like I was sweating and I really needed to get his coat off of me. The building was piping hot and hot air blew on me from the vents. I wanted to go outside where it was not so hot and wait until we could call a tow truck to get Sherry’s car out of the pond. “I’m going to wait outside,” I said. “I really can’t stay in here.” Suddenly music began to play and when I protested about being in the building my voice came out as a song. “Well I really can’t stay.” Hank spoke up but his voice came out in a song. “But, baby it’s cold outside.” “I've got to go away.” There was something weird about this place. “Baby, it's cold outside,” said Hank. “This evening has been…” I started to say. “Hoping that you'd come in,” said Hank I tried to slip off the coat he loaned me, “It was so, very nice” “I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice,” Hank took my hand and held them. I literally felt like my hands were burning from his touch. We needed to get the car out of the pond and go home. “My mother will start to worry” “Beautiful, what's your hurry?” “My father will be pacing the floor” “Listen to that fireplace roar.” The building did have a nice roaring fireplace and there was a Christmas tree near by. The building was a department store and there were shelves of stuff, and there were lots of supplies. But I wanted to go home. “Maybe we can get a ride.” Hank held me back from going out the doors. “No cabs to be had out there.” But I really can't stay Baby, it’s cold outside.” Sherry even spoke and they sang together, “Baby, it's cold outside.” Hank held his coat shut around me. “Ugh, you're very pushy, you know?” Sherry sang loudly, taking over for Hank, “Think of you parent’s sorrow,” “But we can just hang outside,” I suggested. “If you got pneumonia and died” “Baby, it's cold,” said Sherry “Baby, it's cold outside,” Sherry and Hank sang together. Suddenly I felt very cold, even though Hank’s coat, which was warm and down filled should have warmed me up. “Ugh,” I said. “I’m freezing.” I shivered and Sherry led me closer to the fire place. Hank walked around the store and then came back. Sherry hung my wet clothes over from the fireplace mantle. I looked at my wet bra and panties hanging next to my jeans and t-shirt and blushed. They were old underwear and weren’t the nicest and I didn’t really want Hank to see them. However, I was not about to put my icy clothes back on until they dried. Hank came back. “There are racks where the clothes were hung, but they’ve seemed to have been emptied.” Sherry shrugged. “I didn’t find any coats.” “I wish we were at my house,” I said. “There are probably plenty of dry and clean clothes in packages under the tree. I had asked Santa for some new outfits.” “It’s too bad Santa can’t come by and bring us some clothes and even give us a lift,” said Hank. Music began to play from the clock tower outside. I stood without being able to stop myself and walked over to the Christmas tree. “Don’t you dare sing this song, Liz. It infantilizes women.” I sang anyway, “Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree For me Been an awful good girl Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.” I grabbed the sable coat and put it on after dropping Hanks coat on the floor. The I turned back to the tree and continued to sing. “Santa baby, a '54 convertible too Light blue I'll wait up for you dear Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.” A old fashioned convertible appeared next to the Christmas tree, I had everything I needed to dress warmly and get home, but I wanted more. I continued to sing. “Think of all the fun I've missed Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed.” I kissed Hank and as I leaned over the tail of my coat rose over my bottom. It felt like my butt expanded a bit as well. “Liz, what are you wearing under the coat?” asked Sherry. “That’s a diaper, don’t ya know.” I ignored her and continues to sing. “Next year I could be just as good If you'll check off my Christmas list,” I sang. My crotch suddenly felt wet and hot as my bladder released with no warning. I thought of what else I wanted. Should I asked Santa for a new boat or jewels or should we go for a deed to a duplex? I chose the duplex. “Santa honey, one little thing…” I soiled myself, the mess squeezing into the diaper, but I continued to sing despite the smell. “I really do need…” Sherry grabbed me from behind and put her hand over my mouth. “Hank open the front door.” He ran to the entrance and opened the double glass door, then ran back to us. “Put Liz in the car and do not let her sing. Whenever we sing Christmas songs, they come true. And this song is making Liz regress into a baby.” He dragged me kicking and squirming into the back seat of the car. I couldn’t get the lyrics out because his hand covered my mouth. Sherry hopped in the front seat, started the car and peeled out of the store, squealing tires as she swerved around the pond. She drove through the slushy streets throwing up a wake of snow behind us until we reached the highway. I tried to get out of Hank’s grasp and sing for my duplex, but he kept his hand clamped over my mouth. When I tried to sing though his fingers he pinched my nose so I couldn’t breathe and held me that way until we left the city limits of Christmastown. He let go of me and I looked down at myself. I was no longer uncontrollably singing. However, I wore only the sable coat and a diaper. The diaper was wet and messy and I smelled. I felt the mess against my skin and looked down at myself in shame. The sable coat was warm, but my infantile garment on my lower half took me completely by surprise. “What had I done?” Sherry pulled over. It was cold and we were in a convertible. The heat was on, but the warm air just floated out of the car. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of me, but she focused on getting the top of the car put up. The three of us sat in the car as the heater warmed the inside. I looked around sheepishly. “I, uh—” “I told you that song infantilizes women,” said Sherry. “There is no way you would knew I would end up in a dirty diaper from singing this song. This is worse than freezing.” “There’s a duffel bag in here,” said Hank. He opened it and pulled out a diaper. “It looks like a diaper bag.” I shook my head. “No way,” I said. “Just get cleaned up,” said Sherry. She stepped out of the car and Hank got out and joined her. I took the diaper bag. I hadn’t seen it and I certainly hadn’t asked for one from Santa, I sighed and looked inside. All I could find for clothes was more diapers. I thought about going bottomless, but it was cold. Instead I grabbed a clean diaper and some wipes and prepared to clean myself. However as I pulled the tapes they were stuck fast and I couldn’t get them undone. “Sherry,” I said. “I can’t get the tapes undone.” She joined me in the back seat and watched me struggle with the tape. She then pulled on the tape and it came right off. I couldn’t get the wipe container open and she finally had me lay back as she changed me. “How did you get that tape undone?” I asked. “It’s so sticky?” “It just came off, don’t cha know,” said Sherry. “Should I put a clean diaper on you?” I nodded. “There are no bottoms and I don’t have any other clothes, unless we want to go back for my blue jeans.” “We better not go back or we might sing a song that has even worse consequences,” she said. She dress me in the diaper and I just pulled my sable coat down to cover my lower half. Hank got back in the car with us and Sherry drove us home. I wet once more on the way home. When I got ready for bed that night Sherry got me out of my diaper and I put on my regular clothes. I wet the bed that night and then as the day progressed I found out I was incontinent. It sucked, but Sherry diapered me the rest of vacation. When we returned to school, Sherry and I made a deal. She could drive my car, but she had to change me until we could find a cure. Somehow I thought we might have to return to Christmas Town to find a cure, but I didn’t want to be trapped there if we sang an even worse song. Maybe the price of being a greedy girl singing Santa Baby was incontinence and diapers. At least we got a nice car out of it. The End.

Hello all you wonderful ABDL's in the Fort Worth Area. I am Mommy Love and I am a professional lifestyle Mommy. I offer affordable sitting services to AB's all over Texas. I do know what it takes to take care of an AB. I am married and my husband is my full time ABDL. I do have a website to check out. If you would like to know more then email me or ask me on here. I am more than happy to answer any question that you may have. I hope to be taking care some new AB's really soon. Love and hugs, Mommy Love

In a certain sense, incontinence is like an empty gas tank. At some point you're driving and something has to be done about it and if you don't, you're going to be waylaid. Often it's smart to pre-empt the needs of your tank. The only difference is the obvious, that being empty and being full mean quite different things when it comes to gas tanks and diapers. I have, unfortunately, been known to run on fumes. In other senses, incontinence is like trying to keep a sandcastle from slumping and oozing into the dunes of the beach. Too wet or too dry, your magnificent plans are always coming back down to mush. Sometimes I describe it as a constant choose-your-own-adventure picture book. Except that it is one where almost all of the outcomes are bad (LEAKED - WOMP WOMP), where every 'picture' is a dark spot on my ass. I have, unfortunately, been known to be as bad at incontinence as I am bad at continence. But this story isn't about incontinence. Well it is, don't get me wrong. I don't have any stories about myself that don't include a diaper. This is about refilling the tank. This is about keeping the sandcastle up. This is about finding that final, glorious page of the picture book where something other than 'GET WET, LOSER' is written. I live with my boyfriend, whose name is Pete. He likes me for every other reason than my babyishness, but he likes that too. He doesn't mind that I'm too fraidy-scared to drive. He is totally okay that half of our cabinets are filled with sippy cups and disney plates – the ones with the little dividers and princess painted on them. He doesn't mind that I occasionally, without even noticing, shove my thumb into my mouth, though he does make me take it out for a pacifier if I do. He doesn't mind that I screech when I see a bug, though to be fair, who really really likes bugs anyway? It started in the middle of the night. I woke up confused and disoriented. I both knew why I was awake and at the same time, I couldn't figure it out. What was that, down there, on my butt? Is it Pete kicking me in his sleep? Is Gubbles, our cat, making biscuits on my tush? An intruder? Did the pillow get in between us to rest on my butt? What the... I realized that it was what it always was. The mess is what wakes me up. I never awaken with cramps with time to hop out of bed. That would be hopeless anyway. I'd probably just end up elbowing Pete in the face. After that, I'd trip on the covers. I'd step on Gubbles. I'd run headlong into the bathroom door. And despite all of the bumps and bruises and general carnage my midnight rush would cause, my diaper would still wind up heavy. No, any dramatic hope of getting to the potty is beyond me. I'm going to shit the bed and I'm going to find out after the fact. Now, the next thing here Daddy definitely should not know. I went back to sleep. I waited until the movement stopped and then I put a hand down there to feel it. It wasn't a ton. It wasn't anything in the emergency category. It really never is. I wear a special extra pad in the back part of the diaper for exactly this reason, and I usually don't need it. Sometimes I wrongly assess how much poop is really down there. Like I said, I'm not very good at being incontinent. Daddy – Pete – says that I should deal with it anyway, and no matter how disoriented he is, he is always willing to help no matter the hour. I know that I'm supposed to wake him up. But I also know that when poop does wind up in my diaper, like now, I'm supposed to wait. You never quite know when you're done. Well I don't, at least. So I crack my back and roll over to see if the smell or if the sounds of my toots have woken up Daddy, but they haven't. I tell myself I'm going to wait to see if there is more, and then I'll wake him up. I definitely don't want to wake him up for messy diapers twice in the same night, right? He has to work tomorrow, after all. So I wait, knowing full well that no matter how much poop is in the diaper right now, I'll have no trouble falling asleep...if I just don't...close...my...eyes... I wake up sometime later with a foreign hand on my hip. It's pushing me. Why? I wanna be here! Whyyy? Oh. I let it push me on my back. The dream I'm having surges back until I feel a cold feeling on my legs. The jammies are gone. Whyyy? I pull a hand towards my face and it gets most of the way there but then the dreams come back. Something about a beach...sandcastles...sandcastles melting and sand in my diaper... Not sand. I woke up to see Daddy. He's done more than push me on my back and take my jammies off. There is a new diaper on the corner of the bed. There is the powder and the wipes beside it. There is light coming from the lamp by the bed. I'm no longer by the pillows, I'm at the end of the bed. And there is something under my bum and I can feel the edge of it against my back. "Hi," I said. "Hi," he said. And that's all we needed to say. At some point my doodoo must have woken him up. Now my legs were up, now they were down again. In his tiredness he forgot the cold wipe countdown and I squealed. He didn't say sorry, but he put a hand on my tummy and told me that it was okay. I woke up again sometime later. The smell of poopy was all gone. I didn't even remember the rest of the diaper change. I didn't remember him taking the diaper downstairs to the bathroom with the genie. He didn't like putting the dirty ones in the upstairs genie. I don't remember him going in and washing his hands or spraying the febreeze or turning the fan on or opening the window, though now I could hear the constant tread of heavy rubber tires on the street below. I don't remember him coming back to bed, or if he kissed me on the forehead or tummy once as he did. But he was next to me. His back was turned. I moved to snuggle into him. I don't make a very good big spoon but I like to try. As I do, I realize that the butt of my diaper is stiff and bloated. I try to tell myself that it's not bad enough for Daddy to change me before breakfast, but I know that he probably will if he sees it. I fall asleep again and don't wake up until his alarm goes off. I get up fast. I'd fallen asleep too fast during my nighttime change for Daddy to put my jammies back on, so I found them in the laundry basket and put them back on. I realized that they still kind of smelled but I honestly didn't care. Carliah is a pooper, that's what it is, and poopy probably isn't done with me today yet anyway. Oh no. It wasn't. It definitely wasn't. That's why I'm telling this story. I try to sneak out of the bedroom once the jammies are over my diaper. It's even wetter than it was when I woke up and snuggled earlier. Even worse, the pee pee smells because it's been since the evening since I had any wa-wa. Thinking of that, I find my baba on the bedside table and take a slurp. I figured I'd have a quick sip and then go down to fill it with cold water. All so I can stay away from Daddy and enjoy my pee pee diaper for a little longer. But the slurps from the bottle turn out to be an oopsie, and Daddy wakes up. "Come here," he said, after aching and stretching under the covers. His eyes aren't open yet. One of his hands flops to the edge of the bed and beckons me. I try to ignore his command. "Hi Daddy!" I say. "Hi Carliah," he said. "Come here." "I'm thirsty." "Come here." I try to step around him anyway. I don't want a change and I know it's on his mind. My diaper crunches under my jammies, though, and despite his eyes being closed, he can hone in on my location with ease. His hand lashes out and grasps my back until it closes around my wrist. Rats. "Daddy!" I say, trying to sound as meek as I can. It's probably a miscalculation. Sounding small will only make Daddy harder under the covers, and a hard Daddy means, paradoxically, a dry Carliah. At least in this situation. I'm certainly wet in a brand new way as I feel his fingers enclose around my arm. I'm too horny to yank myself away. But I do try to turn towards him. I can feel where the pee is and its where it usually is – in the back. If he's lazy and he just pats the front he might not lay me down on the bed. But even if he's grunting with every movement of his body. Even if every joint cracks as he slugs his way to the edge of the mattress. Even as yellow gunk falls off his eyelids. Daddy doesn't settle for just patting the front. He tells me to spin around and presses in the shield of the diaper. His hand does not find the crunchy plastic of a dry diaper. Not even close. He leans forward and sniffs. "Daddy!" I say. "Are you pooped?" "No I'm not pooped Daddy," I say. "Smells like it," he says. I think for a second. Sometimes, poop can take me by surprise simply because I'm just so used to it being down there. But I don't think that it's the case this time. I came up with a reason. "I put my jammies back on," he said. "Okay," he says. There is a pause. "Lay down." "Daddy!" "You're too wet." "Daddy!" I say, tugging on his grip. He doesn't release and I'm still too horny to really fight. I couldn't get away anyway if I did. Soon enough I'm on my back. Once again. Daddy, more awake now, decides to give me a morning lecture. "The weather is getting warmer," he says, pointing at the window. "You know how it gets in the summer, Carliah. You know that we need to stay on top of it." "I know." "So I don't want you to fight me. I want you to help stay on top of it too. Were you trying to sneak out of here with this diaper?" "No." "Carliah. Did you wake up when you did your poopy last night?" "No! Daddy, please!" "Carliah?" "What Daddy?" "Be good. And lift your butt. That's better." Daddy was right. It was getting warm, and Spring was coming through the windows. I didn't put my jammies back on. I wore one of Daddy's t-shirts and long socks past my knees and I sat down on the couch. I had to fix my diaper a little; it wasn't one of daddy's best tape-jobs, but I couldn't complain because I'd been fussy and he'd been groggy. Daddy made me toast and some eggs and laid them down on the coffee table. He had picked one of the baby plates, this one with Belle from Beauty and the Beast. He had made himself the same thing, complete with a coffee. He poured me juice, though, and put it in a sippy cup so I couldn't spill. "Aww, I forgot the apples," he said. "It's okay!" I said, popping up. "I can get them." Daddy looked at my diaper, which flashed before his t-shirt fell over it to cover it. "Thank you honey," he said. I walked over to the kitchen. I tucked a hand under my shirt to feel that yes, my diaper was still actually dry. I still missed my big wet diaper, but this felt good too. Like a full tank of gas. Like a newly washed car, complete with its own new smell of plastic and powder and lavender lotion. Like a brain that was freshly snoozed, with no weblike gunk between the ears, ready to think big smart thoughts through the whole day.. I leaned across the counter with both hands to grab two apples. Carliah Garcia is not someone blessed with hands big enough to hold two apples in one hand at the same time. Perhaps it was the way my tummy contorted against the marble countertop. Maybe it was my movement, or perhaps the prospect of food. Food is always a catalyst; mealtime becomes change-time. I'm rarely in a state to order dessert, if you know what I mean. Sometimes the check can't come soon enough. But today, all I needed was to reach for two apples. And then that new car smell was gone. It hit my diaper in a flash. Like someone had pulled open the back and dropped a fist-sized rock right into the seat. Pee surged out too, as if it had been waiting for the time to strike. It came out with a fart too. Daddy looked up at me. He had a big mouthful of toast. "Everything okay, honey?" I knew I was blushing. I knew he could probably hear what had happened too. I stood there, arms outstretched, with two apples. "Carliah?" "Should I wash the apples?" I asked. Daddy smiled. "Yes Carliah, of course. Just a quick rinse. But you don't have to cut them up." "Okay!" I said, inflecting my voice as positively as I could to avoid my embarrassment. And disappointment. I had just convinced myself that my clean diaper was cozy. I did as I was told for the apples. I did not do as I was told earlier about my accident. About how it was getting warmer and I needed to be responsible. Instead, I sat down on the couch. I'll tell you that as soon as I did, I was no longer sad that I'd ruined a clean diaper. It felt good. It wouldn't last long, of course, Daddy was right there and would smell it, surely. Honestly, it was a perfect diaper. Not enough pee or poop to leak, but just enough that I couldn't forget it. You could say that an incontinent lass like me has developed her own, refined tastes. I'd really be like this all day every day if I could. With every bite of my toast I wormed my but into the couch a little more, squishing it further. If Daddy wasn't there, I'd make rubbies for sure. But he wouldn't allow it. He wasn't cross, but he was more in the mood for a lecture than indulgence. I expected him to give me a lecture about how I was supposed to get used to changing it myself this summer when he caught me. But he didn't catch me. We finished our breakfasts. He got on his phone and read emails or texts, I couldn't tell which. When I was done eating, he took our plates away. While he was in the kitchen I snuck a few rubbies in. Just a little. When I heard his footsteps again I stopped quickly, but the feeling was too good. I brought my heel against the crotch of my diaper and dug it in. I examined my split ends while gently rocking on my foot. I assumed it was change-time when he came by to kiss me on the head, but once again, he didn't lift my shirt and he did not begin to sniff around. Instead, he went back upstairs to get ready for work. I watched him disappear. Then I mounted the couch's armrest. I rode it almost all the way until I had an orgasm. But Daddy's feet appeared at the top of the stairs and I had to throw myself off on the couch. My diaper didn't feel so good anymore; the motion on the couch had distended and mushed it further. But I figured Daddy was taking me up to the bed and towel in just a moment, so it didn't matter. "Watcha doing?" he asked. He stopped beside the couch. He could probably see my diaper, but it didn't matter now. I was kinda hoping for that change. "Nothin. Still sleepy." "Okay. You'll remember to look at the chore list we made last night, right?" "Yes Daddy." "And I'll be home for lunch, as usual." "Yes Daddy." He took a step around the couch. I was sure he was going to lift his shirt off of me and patt my bum. But he didn't. He pulled my hair aside and gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek. "Anything else, honey?" "Hm?" "Are you all good?" I don't know how long it took me to respond. It felt like forever. But since he gave me another kiss, it couldn't have been that long. "I'm good, Daddy," I said. And then he turned and left out the door, smiling at me as he shut it and locked it behind him. To say that I was quite in shock was an understatement. Sure, the poop in my diaper wasn't the biggest ever, but it wasn't nothing. It was definitely poop and there was no way that Daddy would have missed it. It had been almost an hour since he'd grabbed my wrist beside the bed too, and he always checks me more than that. And then I realized that he knew. Of course he knew. And I lied. And he knew I lied. I ran upstairs and got my phone. It was a weird feeling, to move quickly with that much stuff smushed in there, but trust me, I've felt weirder. I found my phone under the covers and texted him. "Daddy," I wrote. "I messed up." "I just thought you were going to change it yourself." "But it's messsyyyyyyy," she said. "I think you can handle it." "Daddy!" "Daddy what?" "Daddy please?" Daddy came back in and marched up the stairs. I got the towel out for him, as well as the wipes and a new diaper. He put the diaper back in the drawer and procured a thinner one. "I want a thick diaper," I said, sucking my thumb. He batted my hand away. There was no time to find a pacifier, but he did scan the bed for one closeby anyway. "You're going to get a thinner diaper. If you leak, you're in trouble." "But I have to wait until you get home for lunch!" "Only if you don't change it yourself." There was no more discussion. I submitted to his wipes. He told me he was disappointed that I lied, and that we'd have a discussion about it later. He also reminded me of how much cream he'd needed to use last summer, and how much I whined about the rash. I took it all in silence. Soon enough, I was back in a thin diaper and alone until lunch. I was clean. I know what you'll think about this next part. You're going to say...Carliah, that's not real. You're going to say, Carliah, you're only five-foot-two. You didn't have steak and bloody marys, you didn't eat a whole damn piggy for dinner the night before. You even pooped twice yesterday – once around breakfastime, and once right after Daddy put you in a diaper after your shower (because that's how it goes sometimes). You might say, well... maybe this part is reasonable. Maybe it wasn't that much today, at breakfast, and maybe it wasn't that bad overnight too. Your Daddy wasn't late for work and didn't lose that much sleep, so maybe what happened next was not just reasonable, but predictable. All I can tell you is that I'm too little to know for sure. I don't know where the best place on the beach is to build a sandcastle. I don't, at the drop of a hat, know where the best gas station is to fill up a car in the city. I haven't, in fact, memorized the decision tree in the picture book so as to avoid all of the trap doors to an OOPSIE outcome. I'm a baby and shit happens. In fact, my opinion was that I was in the clear. I had, after all, filled my diapers quite hard that morning. Things were moving, and likely had moved. Prospects were as good as any. Chance of showers: minimal. Tornado warning? Pssh. Carliah was smooth sailing. Did Daddy give me a thinner diaper? Sure. Was I in trouble? Yeah, I was in trouble. But Daddy might forget. And Daddy didn't know that I'd got 95% of the way to orgasm on the couch. No permission. So I dodged most of the trouble anyway. The chores I had to do involved some errands. Cucumbers, more hand soap, more buttcream (always embarrassing to buy). Go to FedEX to get some postal thingy printed. Go pick out a card for Daddy's sister's birthday. There were other things. Phone calls about the house I had to make. And he wanted me to do some research on a vacation for the summer. But I figured that since my diaper was clean and dry, and thin to boot, and because the messes had just happened, that the best time of any to get out and about was right away. I said before I was bad at being incontinent. That I run on fumes. Honestly I don't know what else I could have done. Sometimes you're just toast. I took an Uber to the farthest place, which was the FedEx store. I got that taken care of, but while I was waiting I did a self check and rats, I was peed. Not too bad. I checked my bag just in case, and saw that I hadn't brought a diaper change. This didn't worry me. I often do that. Daddy never takes me out without one, but I often dip out without a dip. Especially on days like this, when the pee and poop came with the early birds. I went to a Hallmark to get a card. I started to feel something. It can sometimes be like that. Usually it's more like it was when I was grabbing the apples. When I have no idea I'm about to mess until it's in the diaper and still coming out. Sometimes, though, I get a tease. And sometimes it's a lie. I can't tell you how many diapers I've ruined going to the potty at the slightest feeling down there. It turns out to just be my period or my tummy or just, idk, the weird feelings you get just cause you're old. Or horniess. I've legitimately mistaken the feral need to fuck, so serious and debilitating that it feels like anxiety or a cramp, and sat on the potty because of it. I don't really know. Maybe it's just because I've had so little success pooping on the potty that I just don't know what normal, potty trained people feel like when they have to go. I think it's supposed to feel like what it feels like when a cock is coming out of your ass. Sorry. I know those of you anal fuckers probably think of it the other way. That a slipping cock feels like shitting. But I associate these things the opposite way, for obvious reasons. So I had a feeling. I thought it was horniness or the eggs. I suppose since I have ovaries, those two concepts aren't so different. I picked out a card without too much worry. I even squatted down to inspect the lowest ledge in the display. I worried more about the waistband of my pants and the sound of the crinkles than what was going on in my tum-tum. The feeling came and went, came and went. I trickled pee into the diaper, as usual, but nothing really progressed on the other end. In retrospect, I have to be a toddler – at best – to not have realized what was coming. Sometimes context, such as my messy morning, can be deceptive. Sometimes it might be better to think less, to understand less. My bottom made the need abundantly clear as I was about two back in the line to check out at Hallmark. It surged all of a sudden, like snow suddenly breaking off a roof. Like when you tip the cereal box too far to one side and the log jam breaks and the Lucky Charms all come cascading out. It was lucky. It was a miracle I caught it and clenched at all. More pee came out but I held my bum tight. I bit my lip and almost bent in half the card I wanted to buy. I looked behind me and saw a yoga mom idling through her phone, blissfully unaware of the jeopardy my diaper was in. I looked ahead, and an older lady was paying for her card in cash. Worse, she was paying not just in cash, but in exact cash. A coin rolled off the table onto the floor and the old lady looked at it wearily until the patron behind her stepped forward to pick it up. The situation was laughably hopeless. I almost laughed. There was no way I was paying without losing control. Daddy is gonna get hard when he hears about this. I thought about the edge of the couch, but I remembered that the diaper he gave me was small. And it wasn't close to lunch. And I was over a mile from home. It was getting warm. I still had chores to do. The feeling was a bit like trying to balance a basketball on your index finger. Drop it and...boom. Specifically, the feeling was a bit like trying to balance a basketball on your finger when you've never actually successfully balanced it before. So yeah. All it took was someone bursting through the automatic doors to make me drop the ball. They came in, turned, and shouted at someone idling in a car outside. Like any normal human being, I turned my head to see what was happening. I pooped my diaper for the third time since midnight. A man stepped up to counter and waved me over. "I can help you at this register, ma'am." The old lady was gone. It was still coming. I walked over. "Can you give it to me so I can scan it?" he asked me. Still coming. "Oh, yeah." The yoga mom was behind me. Really closely for some reason. "Cash or credit?" It's like my diaper is growing a rudder. "Credit." "Okay, whenever you're ready." Still coming. Right? No, all done. Oh. Wait. Definitely still coming. "You can remove your card, ma'am." Ma'am! Ha! No. No I'm never going to be a ma'am. I walked home. It felt too disrespectful to get into an uber. I carried my printout from FedEx and my Hallmark card and I passed right by the grocery store. I'd do those chores later. I texted Daddy, but he was busy and did not reply. Daddy was right, it was getting warm. The sun was beating down on me and my bloated diaper. I tried to stand away from people at crosswalks, but they didn't know to avoid me and found their way beside me more than usual. I hoped that the wind would waft my scent away. Or that they'd blame it on a dog or the sewer. I couldn't decide whether to hurry or go slow. I wanted to get home as fast as possible, but I also didn't want to pass in front of other pedestrians. I preferred to let them pass me. But there were always more coming out of shops and around corners. Walking fast meant it squished more. Walking slow meant I was in the hot sun longer. About halfway home I was sweating so much I was sure I was leaking. The mess in my diaper seemed to heat up my groin until it almost became claustrophobic. I realized that I was waddling and tried to correct my gait, but after a few blocks I gave up. I realized that when I got home, I had nowhere to go. I still had chores around the house. But what was I going to do? Stay standing the whole time until Daddy came home? Or sit down in this hot mess? I wanted Daddy! I texted him again. No reply. Someone bumped into me and I bit my lip. Was it possible to run away from my own butt? "Daddy I'll be in all the trouble in the world but you have to meet me at home now and change my diaper!" "I'll do no cummies for a week! I'll let you spank me bunches and bunches. But I need a new diaper soooooo bad." Finally I made it home. A part of me was mad at Daddy. Still no reply! I took off all my clothes and checked my pants to see if there had been a leak. There wasn't. I looked in the mirror and got turned on and I hated it. There was no Daddy to do anything about it and I'd ruin the couch if I did my favorite thing again. Gahh! Daddy called me. "Daddy!" I yelled into the phone. "Are you home?" "No." "Are you coming home?" "Carliah. I stepped outside. Carliah. No. Please listen. You have to do it." "You don't understand I had a..." "Carliah..." "Daddy PLEASE!" "Carliah, let me talk. Or it really will be big trouble. Do you understand?" "Yes Daddy." "You've done it yourself for years. You know many people who do it themselves. You have incontinent friends who change it themselves. You can do it too. I know you can." "But Daddy I have you!" "Mhm. And you also have trouble." "That's good I understand any kind of trouble but..." "This is the trouble. The kind of trouble involved in growing up. You're changing it yourself, Carliah. No, I know you made a big mess. Of course I love you. But I'm not coming home from lunch. Do you understand? Carliah? Carliah?" *** Peter arrived home at approximately six in the evening. He hadn't heard a peep from Carliah all day since she hung up the phone. He wasn't mad. No, far from it. He was curious. He didn't mind that she probably resented him, and that it would be absurd for her to resent him. After all, him making a twenty minute drive to wipe her butt, wolf down lunch, and drive back to work every day was a bit absurd. It was just so hot. It pained him not to do it. He really did like that he always changed her. She was so...dependent that way. But it was unsustainable. Both time wise and health wise. She needed to relearn the responsibility to clean up her own messes now and then. Not always, but often. He would have work trips. He would leave her on her own. She would need to deal with it. What was he saying? Carliah was over thirty. Carliah was fine. Carliah was getting spanked big time. She was getting soaped and he was going to make her use her mouth to great lengths to apologize to him. So he opened the door with a devilish grin. What he saw made his jaw drop. There was Carliah, her breasts out, her face panting and delirious. Her long dark hair was disheveled. She was wearing nothing but one sock and a diaper. Not even a bra. Her glasses were hung down to the very edge of her nose, and it hardly seemed to matter because her eyes were glazed and cross eyed. "Carliah!" She was perched atop the armrest of the couch. On foot on the couch, the other hanging off. Both hands pressed against her crotch. Sweat dripped down and Peter noticed her hair was stuck to her face. His eyes, stuck for a little while on her erect, raw nipples, made their way down to her hands. She had changed her diaper. No...she hadn't. He looked closer at the waistband. The waistbands. The many, many, many waistbands upon waistbands. "Carliah..." Carliah didn't acknowledge him. She rocked back and forth. What he smelled made his eyes go wide. Peter pushed through it and stepped up to the edge of the couch. Carliah was almost taller this way. She rocked back and forth, the massive balloon of plastic around her waist squeaking and crinkling as she moved. He closed his eyes and kissed her. Her mouth and breath were warm. "Daddy," she whispered, almost as quiet as a breath. She cracked a weak, delirious smile. Like she knew what was about to happen to her. Like she understood that the only place deeper and more full of poop than the septupled diaper she was wearing was the hole of trouble she'd just landed in. "I put new diapers on, Daddy. Like you said. Am I a good baby?" "You are...a baby," he told her.

Ivan watched as the girl walking in front of him on the sidewalk tripped over a crack or a rock or who knows what, and fell down, smacking her hands and knees against the cement. Ordinarily he wasn't one to just interact with strangers- him being so big and intimidating, it usually didn't work out well for anyone. This time, however, he paused. He leaned down, grabbed her hands, and helped her up to her feet. He glanced her up and down- she was a bit teary eyed, and bleeding just a bit from her knobby knees. "You should get a bandage." He said quietly. It was an attempt to show concern, but he rarely spoke with others these days, so it sounded awkward. He reached his hands out and wiped her eyes. "There's no need to cry, nothing looks broken." He glanced around at her things, noticing a school bag which had spilled out its contents on the floor. The girl looked a bit young, but she was still very obviously of college age, as she was walking by herself, and headed toward the block of dingy college apartments. He offered his hand and smiled. "Can I walk you home to make sure you don't take another tumble?"

Antony, 9 years old, had decided to spend the day with his friends a group of rowdies widely disliked by the residents of the area. While they weren't a violent group, the most serious offense committed by them was drawing graffiti, none of them appreciated being looked down upon, especially by the Gorian women, and officers often annoyed them for simply walking on the sidewalk. What else can you expect in such a harshly matriarchal society? They weren't really violent or dangerous kids, in fact no one in the neighborhood feared them or considered them dangerous for some reason, but the women who had have to deal with them considered them very rude, but they weren't bad boys. He and his small group of friends simply lived the entire Gorian context with a lot of intolerance, because It left them no prospects for the future. Antony had had tried to talk about this topic with his mommies but he didn't succeeded to explain his frustration and he had argued with them, feeling bad for two weeks because it. He was a sensitive child after all. However, a day he and his friends decided to skip the school to go to play skateboard, but to avoid to invest a woman fell on the goods on display in a greengrocer's shop, ruining all the goods. The shop owner denounced him and his friends the judge summoned their legal guardians, along with Antony's mom and her girlfriend, deciding to enroll him and his friends in a re-education program for unruly boys. Some days later, Nanny Alexandra, the designated nanny for Antony's re-education, rang the doorbell of Antony's house and was welcomed in a very cordial way by Antony's mom and her girlfriend. (if you are interested you can contact me privately) (this is Antony) this is nanny Alexandra

My Story. "How do I put this? I think I'm the most miserable man alive. I'm 60 years old, growing up I was a hard worker. I grew up in farming country. I hauled enough alfalfa bales, branded and castrated calves. Picked potatoes. Milked cows. Fixed miles of fencing, If it was farm-related I have done it. I was a garbage man, not one of those guys that drive up with a truck that automatically picks up the can and dumps it, oh no I rode on the back and another guy and I dumped your cans. I also did construction, building your houses. We were putting a wall up and it fell hitting me in the lower back. I also volunteered at my local fire department. I also rode rodeo in my younger days, I liked the saddle broncos. I stayed away from the bull riding. In my opinion, you have to have a few screws loose to ride a bull, that or a death wish! Anybody that will willingly get on a ton of animal with the intent of killing you isn't right in the head. The reason I tell you these things is that now that I'm 60, I've had surgeries to fix several things. I hurt from head to toe the doctors say its arthritis from all the crap I did when I was younger. It's in my ankles, knees my left knee is about twice the size of my right knee. Lower back combination of jumping off the garbage truck before it stopped, and I had a wall that fell on me. Shoulders injured the right when it came out of socket had it fixed once surgically only to have it tear again. Nothing left to work with to repair it again. The left one hurts now because of a ruptured rotator cuff tear. I've had 3 bones removed from it in a procedure called a Radical Row Carpectomy. They took out the carpal bones. That I'm sure is from my rodeo days. I also have had a hernia operation. This caused me to start to wet my bed when I sleep. This has baffled my doctors usually this doesn't cause Enuresis but it did on me. I wasn't a bedwetter growing up. Until I hit 56 years old and had the surgery to repair a hernia. I've been married 3 times the first wife, she divorced me saying I was too damn ornery to live with. We had a daughter togeter. #2 was on her way back from work one night and some asshole that had been drinking at the local bar all day thought he was in good enough condition to drive, he wasn't he hit Beth running her into the river. She died of not the accident but of hypothermia, it was December right before Christmas. Wife #3 died about 18 months ago she got Ovarian Cancer she was pretty much gone before it was diagnosed. Number 1 had taken my only daughter and left me divorcing me several years before she died!" This is where my life changed. After her death, her brother Rusty ( not Russell but Rusty), his wife had left him. Out of the blue, he called me and asked if he and his daughter Yvette could move in with me. Rusty had one of those jobs where he was gone a lot, oil rigs he was gone like two months at a time then home for 3 weeks. He needed a babysitter for Yvette. He was family and I was always taught you helped out family. They arrived I had forgotten Yvette was almost 18 years old. She looked like her mom. Blond, green-eyed and compact she was only 5 foot 1 or 2 but at 17 she had a rack. The last time I had seen her she was 9 or 10 years old. She had grown and filled out. You might be thinking what a pervert! It's just the radical change she had gone through I was 43 years older than her. Old enough to do anything about it and way too old to know better to try! Like I said after one of my surgeries, for my hernia. I started wetting my bed. It wasn't every night maybe once-twice a week sometimes three or four never more than six. I bought good diapers. I usually didn't have leaks maybe once a month. Tonight was that night. After waking at 0400 hours and finding myself and my sheets soaked, I let a few cuss words fly I got in and took a shower. Lets put it this way I was awake now. I then had to take my sodden linen to the basement where the washing machine was. I was trying to be very quiet as this was where Yvette's bedroom was, I didn't want her catching me washing my wet sheets and pj's. I had just gotten my sheets and things into the washer. I heard Yvette stirring and crying, she was letting loose similar language to what I had used. I heard her coming from her room still cussing about something. She had her sheets and from the looks of things they were in a similar state as the ones I had placed in the washer myself. She had wet her bed as well. Except when she shoved the pile into the washer she saw me and I saw the soaked goodnight she had on. Uhm she said when she saw me. Her shirt was wet as well that she still had on. I saw the trembling of her lower lip, I knew she was going to cry! I hate it when I'm right. "Hey, hey whats the matter?" I asked? "Now you know why my mom didn't want me I'm a bedwetter." 'So what I said I know lots of bedwetters!" "Who?" She asked through the tears? "You know that girl on the next block, Cathy or Cassie? The name escaped me at the moment." "Cassidy?" She offered? "Yeah, she used to run around every day with her shorts wet. In the crotch area. Her mom is a real witch about it I asked her one time about why she wet herself every day? She told me why not she still pisses her bed every night." The crying was growing fainter "Who, Who else she asked?" Did I dare tell her me? "How about me?" I asked? "You?" She said, all tears were stopped. "Look in the washer those sheets didn't wet themselves!" She looked in and for one of the first times saw my load and put hers in with mine then she did something that shocked the hell out of me, she took her wet tee shirt off and threw it in with my clothes and sheets. This girl was naked all except her wet goodnight. I looked her straight in the eyes that way I wouldn't stare at her bare chest. "Why don't you go get cleaned up?" I asked? "Okay, Uncle Eddy!" With that, she was off. I heard her turn the shower on in the bathroom in the basement. I put her wet sheets and clothing in with mine. When I heard her turn the shower off I started the washer. I went and started fixing breakfast. She came to the kitchen. She would look at me and when I would look at her she would look away. "Is there something wrong I asked her?" "Uhm, can I ask you a question?" I" think you just did!" I joked. "No, that's not it, she smiled. Uhm your bedwetting have you always...?" That's what her question was. "Wet my bed?" I finished? "Yeah!" She said relieved. "No, I had some surgery that caused it, I've only been wetting my bed about 4 years now, why?" "I never stopped she said. It used to piss my mom off something terrible, she yelled, spanked, restricted my fluids at night. But I still woke up wet the next morning. Even my dad doesn't like the fact that I'm old enough to drive, but I still can't sleep dry. You're the only adult that didn't have a cow when you found out I still wet my bed." "Probably because I understand what you go through every morning I said. By the way, we need to get you better protection at night, those goodnights are made cheap but expensive, per Cassidy 's mother. You feel like skipping school to go do some shopping?" I asked? "Is the Pope Catholic?" She responded? We visited the hospital supply store where I get my diapers from. I found they have the best choice of incontinent supplies in the city. She found some purple things she liked called Molicare. We were getting ready to leave when we heard a commotion. It was Cassidy and her mom. They were there to get diapers for Cassidy, Cassidy was fighting her mom at every step. Yvette and I were seen by Cassidy, she turned about seven shades of red at seeing us. She was embarrassed! Yvette went up and I saw her talk to Cassidy for a few seconds. I saw Cassidy calm down. I know Yvette had just admitted to Cassidy that she wet her bed as well. I saw Cassidy pick out the same purple diapers that Yvette had. Cassidy's mother was flabbergasted that it had been that easy. I knew Yvette had made a good friend in Cassidy. I still remember when she ran around with a wet crotch all the time. Yvette came and asked "Can Cassidy come home with her, her mom said it was okay!" Now I had two girls playing hooky from school!

Let me tell you an almost true story! Me and my wife had been married for years. Our kids were all grown. We still loved each other but sex had gone out the window when the kids were growing up. Life happened you know busy, busy, busy! Oh I still worked out went to the gym even in my 50's, people thought I looked late 30's early 40's. My wife has always looked youthful she was only 2 years younger but I often got accused of robbing the cradle more than a hundred times it seemed like. Well getting older and trying to lift weights with the young ones doesn't mix! I developed a hernia. I thought I had appendicitis. Same spot as my appendix. I got the surgery got the mesh implanted. About a year or so later I would get pain where the surgery was. That is sometimes normal, but when I felt the pain I would sometimes wet my bed! That was embassing, to say the least I'm 50 something years old bedwetting is for kids and teens not a grown ass man like me! My wife was wonderful, I expected her to berate me, yell at me, whatever. I don't know if I would of been as kind if the tables had been turned. Fast forward a couple of years. It was getting so that if I had a major pain I was wet, even just a minor twinge where I had the surgery I would wake up wet. I started buying Abriform L4 they are pretty expensive I was diapering myself every night just in case. There were nights that I hadn't wet and basically wasted a diaper. As there were nights I slept dry and pulling the white tabs off the blue ones still tore the diaper a bit. The biggest nag I got from my wife was the nights I was dry and basically wasted a very expensive diaper from not using it. On days I would wake up dry I wet it on purpose just to justify the use. I guess I'm old school as that still felt like a waste to me. Along the way I found out I liked being a bedwetter, it was kind of a turn on for me. I thought I was nuts, what grown man likes to wet his bed. I started researching adult bedwetting and holy crap, I found out I'm not the only weird one! I'm not nuts after all. I wanted to be wet every night but it wasn't happening. I had another surgery on my shoulder torn rotator cuff. They catheterized me I was watching the bag fill and I wasn't even realizing I was loosing urine. Light Bulb! As Gru says. Why don't I just get a catheter and wet inside my diapers I mean I don't have to use the collection bag. Easier said than done I ran into you got a prescription for that? No. I was looking on Wish.com low and behold catheters. I started waiting for the little window to pop up asking for a perscription. There wasn't any and they arrived. Unfortunately, they didn't come with a syringe to pump the bladder ball. Tryed using them without and they kept sliding out. Disapointment! I ordered a syringe. 6 weeks later it arrived. I had my catheter in me and it was staying. I diapered myself and went to bed. I awoke in a puddle my diapers couldn't handle everything my bladder sent their way that and my junk had moved and was in the wrong direction. I started thinking. You know but it's weird woman's panties would keep my pee pee down. I bought my first nylon woman's panties. It kept it pointed in the right direction all right but I still was soaking my bed as I was totally wet! I started buying diaper doublers, plastic pants anything I could think of to contain my urine. My diapers made me waddle I was so thickly diapered. I was happy I was waking up soaked every day without having to worry about wasting diapers. My wife usually watched our neighbors kids at night at their house. My neighbors work overnights. I could indulge and not have to worry about my wife thinking I'm weird. My neighbor got sick and we were together as my neighbor was home with the kids and my wife was home with me. I was usually cathed and diapered before her coming to bed. My wife was still supportive she knew that I had a bedwetting problem and as long as I cared for it. She never said a negative word to me. One night in in the process of cateterizing myself. She walks in with my catheter half in and half out. "Whoops!" "What are you doing she asked?" "Uhmmmm, I came clean told her about the past few months how I had been cathetered and I have been wetting my bed without any type of recollection." She asked me "Why?" "I told her it makes me feel naughty." She thought about it for a moment. "Could you make me feel naughty?" I think the smile on my face said it all. I let her start the catheter as I didn't know what hole it went into. The next thing is she is spraying urine. I got a diaper and contained most of her urine. I said "You haven't gone potty have you?" "No she said I was going to go pee in a few moments that's why I came in was to go. She said it felt weird but I loved it it was like no control at all like when I was little." She had the catheter in her. I diapered her thickly like I was! We cuddled in bed for the first time in months. I felt her move and she was feeling the inside of her diaper. "I'm soaked she said with a smile I feel naughty! Just like I used to feel when I was a little girl of 5 and wet my bed still." "You never told me you used to wet your bed?" I said! "I didn't, I thought I did, why do you think I never threw a fit about your bedwetting? I did until 7 years old. I missed it sometimes I like feeling babyish, not having control like this. Do you understand?" "Perfectly!" l said! We went into the bathroom and started. Getting out of our wet diapers and when I got to my panties. "Wow she said I love you! Can we get me some whitie tighties! I've always wanted some." She blushed. "Of course we can get you anything you want!" After we were scrubbed, all disposables disposed of, washables washing, she led me to our bed naked we spent the morning making love to each other. If I had to admit it, I believe it was one of our best sessions in all our years of marriage. It Was great. That day we got her whitie tighties she got me some cotton panties. She told me "They turn a golden yellow from your pee especially the crotches! At least they did when I was a kid!" I was not surprised that night when she came and wanted a catheter, she said "I already went pee! This time I got her ready and she got me ready. While she was doing me she said "I can already feel my pads inside my boys undies getting wet!" I knew what she meant! The next morning she was all smiles! "Daddy I'm wet she said!" I felt my manhood come to life. "I said me to mommy!" I saw her shiver she was turned on. She got on line most of the day, I didn't know what she was doing she spent over $300 dollars on things, was all she would say. About 3 weeks later all kinds of packages arrived. It was mostly onesies. Pacifiers, baby bottles with nipples the size I've never seen before. Other things she didn't want me to see. That night she got me naked after I went pee. Now I'm not the biggest guy down there. Porn stars will never have to worry about me putting them out of a job. After my catheters was in I felt a cold band around my testicles, then something went over my penis she had to smash it to get it to fit, I looked and I had a metal contraption over my penis. "What's this?" I asked as I saw the tip of my catheter poking out around hole in the end. "It's called a chastity cage!" She said! "What for I asked, I've been faithful to you." "I know, I know but I want to have you wear it!" "That's fine, I said but.." "But what?" "It's made of metal and I have to pass through a metal detector every morning to get to my office!" I work in the courts system I'm a keeper. "Oh Pooh!" She said I seen it was important to her. "How about nights and weekends, vacations." The smile returned to her face! "Just not daytimes at work." "Deal!" I said! She said "I got something for you, for me. She brought out an egg looking thing she put some lubricant on it and stuck it in her kitty. She handed me a little thing that looked like a car alarm but had a display. She turned it on and said move that side up! I did as I was told and she looked like she wanted to collapse! "You okay?" I asked! I hadn't made the connection that the higher I moved the dial up the more distressed she looked. I saw her leaking fluids they were running down her legs and dripping on the floor. That's when I realized the egg was a vibrator! I quickly turned down the volume, intensity and she began to breath again. "Sorry! I said I didn't realize what it was at first. "Quite alright she said I kind of enjoyed it! Again?" She asked? I was more than happy to oblige I didn't go as high as last time I saw her shudder and knew she was having an orgasm! I turned the tone down she looked more comfortable. She said "You're no fun!" This time I moved the dial up quickly she leapt 6 inches in the air! A moan escaped her mouth. Slowly I moved the dial down as she came off her tippy toes. I turned it off and she pulled the string out which brought the egg out as well. She smiled "I love it!" She said! "Me too!" I said! I was ready for sex but with the cage on me that was out of the question. She put my panties on and gave my cage a little pat. Now you got a clit like me and your wearing panties woman's panties! She got me dressed in my diapers and pads. She put new pink plastic panties on with pink ruffles and I heard a click they locked. I was locked inside my plastic panties. I dressed her and she had dark blue plastic panties that had light blue ruffles. Hers locked as well. Then the Onesies came out the pink one that I thought was hers was mine and the blue one was hers. I was given a pink baby bottle with milk. It had been a while but soon I was suckling like an old pro. After that she stuck a pink pacifier in my mouth and clipped the pink to strap you my pink onesie. Hers was blue. Next day when I awoke I said "Morning!" "Morning who?" She asked? I was confused. "Morning Mommy!" She said! "Okay Morning Mommy!" "How is my little sissy this morning?" Sissy? I thought then yep I'm pretty in pink. I thought "I'm good Mommy!" I said in one of my best little girl voices. She gave me a smile. "Is my little girl as wet as her mommy?" "Yes mommy I am!" Another smile. She led me to our bathtub in the outer hall she removed everything. She undid my cage and slowly pulled out my catheter. Then relocked it. She ran some bathwater and but some bubble bath in the tub it was very effeminate smelling. She got me in and began scrubbing me like she would a child. She said "I got to clean your clitty." She washed around my cage cleaning my testicles. She said your clitty is all clean she got me out and dried me off after rinsing the excess suds of. She had me undress her and called me daddy to let me know I was in that role now I cleaned up my little girl. I was dressed in pink womans undies again these were the softest I had felt. She used garters and slipped up pink nylons then a pink dress and a blonde wig with pigtails. She put her boys undies they were green and had the incredible hulk on them then a blue shirt that said play ball and had a baseball on it. Then Levis and a Indians baseball cap. Other than her hair she looked like a teen boy! "Today I'm the man. And your the girl got it?" "Yeah I got it!" We spent all day just playing different roles it was an eye opener just to see how the other half lived. That night my princess dress was removed as well as my cage and I got to be the man again. She became my wife again we made love well into the night.

I had just turned 18 years old. I was getting ready for my Freshman year of college. I was accepted at State University in Greenmore. It was a 3 1/2 drive there and back. I wasn't looking foreward to driving 7 hours a day, just to go to school. Mom's best friend Aunt Kathy, and Uncle John lived in Greenmore. They were not really my Aunt and Uncle. Mom and Kathy were best friends from Grade School through mom's Sophomore year at State. She met dad and the rest is history as the say, mom married dad the end of their Junior year. Aunt Kathy married Uncle John what would of been my mom's and her Senior year. Mom moved here and Aunt Kathy got a Masters Degree in Education. Mom had me, then about a year later, Aunt Kathy had Evelyn. Aunt Kathy about 9 months later had John Jr. John Jr. was a preemie, he had always been a sickly kid, his lungs never developed enough. As a kid he had the little oxygen maker that he wore over his shoulder, with a nasal cannula up his nose. Looked like one of those old guys with Emphysema. John Jr. never got to be a real kid. He never got to play football, play tag, do anything a real kid got to do. When we went there or they came here for a visit, I saw Evelyn, and John Jr. get diapers at night. I guess they both wet their beds, it was okay though, I had a huge crush on Evelyn! She had to be the most beautiful girl I knew. I was about 13 or 14 years old last we seen of each other. Aunt Kathy used to diaper them together, in the livingroom. Evelyn was my dream girl when I discovered masturbation she was the one that I imagined. I was going to move in with Aunt Kathy, Uncle John, and Evelyn. John Jr. had died about a year and a half ago. He got the Covid and as sickly as he was lasted about 3 days before it killed him. He was diagnosed on Friday afternoon and died early Monday morning. It was more than his poor little body could endure. I was offered his room to live in while I was going to school in Greenmore. Mom and dad were not rich, so living with Aunt Kathy, Uncle John and Evelyn was a God send! There was no way we could afford for me to stay at the dorms!

Hello All! It's been a while since I've posted a new story, but I'm back with a project I'm very excited about! "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" is the story of Rei Akiyama, a young girl trying to navigate through life in a near future dystopia where the age of majority has been raised to 28 for girls and regressive behavioral therapy has become popular to help girls adjust to these new laws. The world this story is set in is very strongly inspired by/based on the world building of Alteredstates, so a lot of credit goes to him! For those unfamiliar with Alteredstates, he does world building through ad copy and other cultural artifacts. While you don't need to be familiar with his work to understand and appreciate this story, I strongly recommend you check it out! Not only because it will help you immerse yourself in this world, but also because it's genuinely really good! You can find him on Tumblr, Twitter, and Patreon! Without further ado, I give you the prologue and first two chapters of "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" Prologue The night of Wednesday, October 4th, 2028, was unseasonably cold in the city of Greenham; snow was in the forecast for the next day in a city that rarely saw a snowflake until at least January. By 7:28PM, there were already flurries dancing through the cold wind that whipped through the dumpsters behind City Hall, where John Bennet, the head of City Hall security, stood with his foot propping open the emergency exit of the east stairwell. He blew out a lungful of smoke as he dropped his cigarette on the pavement below and crushed it beneath his shoe. John was nothing if not a creature of habit; so much so that, if one cared to be so observant, they could predict exactly what time John would take the last smoke break of his shift before he did his final sweep of the building. He would then go home to his shabby apartment. That night, however, was different. That night, John wouldn’t be going home; he would be meeting a 28-year-old girl he had met on the internet. That night, John’s phone rang just as he was about to go back inside. He fished his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he saw his date’s name on the caller ID, and swiped his finger across the screen as he raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, trying to sound smooth, “I can’t wait to see you.” On the other end of the phone, a young-sounding voice poured honeyed words into his ear as he turned and walked back into the building. Another night, under less distracting circumstances, John would have almost certainly noticed that the door never clicked closed behind him, but the telling silence was lost amongst the words that sent his blood pumping. In a bar a few miles away, Edward Cook was ordering a drink for a girl who looked too young to be there. The girl blushed as she slid her ID and emancipation card across the counter at the bartender’s request, brushing her blue hair behind her ear to look coyly at Edward out of the corner of her eye as she did. Edward never even noticed the girl on the other side of him, or her hand as she slipped a hard plastic card at the end of a black lanyard out of his suit jacket pocket. The card, printed with Edward’s picture and the seal of the Office of Juvenile Affairs, disappeared into the girl’s clutch purse as she quietly slipped away from the bar. She checked the time on her phone as she stepped out into the frosty night: 7:34PM. Elsewhere, the number 9 county bus was pulling over for an unscheduled stop due to a disturbance on the bus involving three young girls. The driver, Richard Lawson, broke up the altercation with the help of another passenger and removed the girls from the bus. That taken care of, an exasperated Richard reported the incident to dispatch, who noted the number 9 bus was running ten minutes behind but was resuming his route at 7:47PM. Back at the courthouse, John, having finished his final sweep of the building and found nothing out of the ordinary, put the finishing touches on his security logs for the night and leaned back in his chair, eyes sweeping over the bank of CCTV monitors that showed snapshots of the interior of the courthouse. It was, however, the clock that John was truly focused on, his eyes constantly flicking between it and the monitors. The moment those numbers turned from 7:59 to 8:00PM, John pushed himself out of his chair and jabbed his finger at the button that caused all of the monitors to wink out simultaneously. Had he waited just a minute longer, he might have seen the black garbed figures slip in from the emergency exit in the east stairwell. He could have watched as they crept up that staircase and slipped into second floor hallway. Another camera would have shown the figures slink down the hallway, past the Permits Office and the Office of Parks and Recreation. On a third camera, the figures stopped in front of a frosted glass door with Office of Juvenile Affairs printed across it in thick, black block letters. One of the figures swiped a card by the panel next to the door, the light turned from red to green, and the figures quickly disappeared through the door. Later, security logs would be pulled showing Edward Cook had accessed the office at 8:04PM; the subsequent investigation would find Cook was not guilty of any direct involvement but would still lose his position on the grounds of gross negligence. By 8:15PM, Greenham City Hall was silent and empty. At 8:17PM, the number 9 county bus blew past the empty bus stop at the far end of the City Hall parking lot. On an ordinary night, Richard would typically idle at this station for a few minutes, but he was working hard to make up for lost time. The next few stops were just as empty, which wasn’t unusual for this time of night on a weekday. It was 8:34PM when the bus pulled up to the stop at Greenham Community College, where three girls and four boys boarded the bus, all of them in their late teens and early twenties. Richard Lawson wouldn’t even think to mention this to investigators later, though they likely would have made nothing of it if he had. By 8:50PM, the city of Greenham, a suburb of the nation’s capital city, was settling into its slumber. A few bars and restaurants were still pouring drinks for late night clientele, but curfew was quickly approaching and all those affected were either already home or else rushing to get there. At 8:54PM, the electric engine of the number 9 county bus was humming along through the streets of one such sleepy neighborhood, empty but for Ricard Lawson and a small handful of passengers: a young girl with black hair and tawny skin carrying a bookbag tight to her chest, two boys with their feet on the seats laughing raucously in the back of the bus, and a mother and a daughter riding together. Richard glanced up at the passengers in his rearview mirror and caught the eye of the daughter. She had bright blue eyes, a practical waterfall of golden curls, and looked to be in her early twenties. Richard smiled at the girl in the mirror; he had to admit, she was adorable in her pink shirt and plaid skirtall. She smiled back at him from behind the shield of her pacifier. The mother turned away from the book in her hand and leaned over the girl, slipping one hand up the girl’s skirtall. Richard quickly averted his gaze, suddenly feeling like he was invading their privacy. “Oh, Rebecca,” the older woman sighed quietly, but still loud enough to be heard easily on the otherwise silent bus, “your pull-up is soaked; did you even know you had to go?” The girl’s smile disappeared into her blush as she mumbled some words from behind her pacifier. The mother chuckled. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she ruffled her daughter’s hair, “we’re almost home! Then we can get you changed into your nighttime diapers and feed you a nice bottle before bed, would you like that?” She booped her daughter’s nose and sent the girl into a fit of laughter. The black-haired girl shifted in her seat across from the mother and daughter, obviously trying to avoid looking at them. She glanced at her phone, 9:52PM. Richard Lawson shifted in his seat and tried to ignore the cooing and giggling going on behind him. Little single-family homes passed by as he made his way down Ridgemont Street, and only more in sight as he turned right down Wrighton Square. The bell dinged and Richard slowly pressed the brake, bringing the bus to a stop at the corner or Wrighton and Central Lake Drive. Richard wished his passengers a good night, stay safe, as they all got off. Glancing back in his rearview mirror to confirm the bus was empty, Richard slowly accelerated into the night. Peter Grant watched the bus pull away from the front seat of his Greenham Police Department Cruiser. He scanned the passengers leaving the bus stop. Two young men cross the street and kept walking up Wrighton Square while three women started walking up Central Lake Drive and toward his cruiser. He checked his clock: 9:56, damn near too late for young women to be out alone. “Let’s check it out,” he said to his partner, Dave Clusky, as he stepped out of the cruiser and started crossing the street towards the trio. As Peter approached, the women were backlit by a streetlamp, but he could make out the vaguely feminine shapes of three women. Two of them walked side by side as the third, at least a few inches shorter than the other two, walked a couple of feet behind. Peter raised his flashlight, “Excuse me, ladies,” he called out officiously as the beam of light cut through the night, bringing the slowly drifting flakes of snow into heavy contrast. The three ladies stopped in their tracks. The shorter of the two in front whimpered behind her pacifier and clung to the older woman next to her as they both blinked against the light. The girl behind them gasped inaudibly and stared ahead like a deer in headlights for a moment before raising a hand to protect her eyes from the worst of the light. “Evening, ma’am,” Peter nodded to the older woman, “these your children?” The woman glanced behind her, then back to Peter, “just this one,” she replied, squeezing Rebecca close to her. Peter nodded, “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. Best get your little one inside, it looks to be about her bedtime.” The mother laughed politely, “yes, we’ve had a very long day, thank you, officer.” She tugged on Rebecca’s hand and quietly urged the girl on. Peter swept his flashlight over a few degrees to focus his beam on the girl in the white button up shirt and plaid suspender skirt. “Could you lower your hand, miss? How old are you?” “Uhm, nineteen,” she replied nervously, “I know it’s—” “It’s almost curfew,” Peter interrupted her, “you allowed to be out past curfew?” “Um, no, sir, I—” “Yeah, didn’t think so. What’s your name? What are you doing out so late?” “Um, Rei, sir, and I’m coming home from college, sir, I was—” “College?” Dave chimed in, “you got parental permission for that?” “Yes, sir, and I—” “What were you doing at college this late?” Peter asked. “You go to Greenham CC?” “Yes, sir, I was studying—” “Studying,” Dave scoffed, “yeah, right.” “I was, sir, I have—” “You got a pass from your professor?” Peter asked. “Yes, sir, it’s—” “Well?” Dave said impatiently. “Let’s see it,” Peter demanded. “Yes, sir,” the girl reached into her backpack and produced a folded sheet of paper that was immediately snatched out of her hand. “Professor Lewis? English?” Peter read key words off the piece of paper before handing it off to Dave. Dave looked the sheet over, made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, then handed it back to Peter. “Looks legit” “You know it’s almost curfew, kid?” Peter turned back towards the girl, thrusting the paper back at her. “Yes, sorry, I was—” “Yeah, you were at college, you said. You live close by?” “Yes, sir, I—” “Where at?” “Just up the street,” she raised her hand and pointed behind Peter. “Uh huh,” Peter sounded skeptical. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: 9:59PM. “Think you can get home before curfew hits, little girl?” He smiled maliciously. The girl’s knees went weak; she clutched her bag to her chest as if it could protect from him the malice in his smile. Her vision tunneled in on the face of Peter Grant and the world around her sounded like it was moving through water. Tick. 10:00PM. As curfew went into effect all over Greenham and it’s surrounding townships, the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall exploded outward, raining fire and rubble into it’s expansive parking lot. The sound of the explosion tore through the still night air, audible as a low rumbling miles away on Central Lake Drive. A portion of the horizon of the night sky lit up. “The fuck…?” Peter cursed. “Fuck me!” Dave swore. The girl let out a quiet yelp and resisted the urge to make a break for it. Silence filled the air in the aftermath of the explosion, and then the radios on Dave and Peter’s shoulders started squawking. They completely forgot about the girl as they scrambled back to their cruiser. Chapter One Snowflakes were melting in Rei Akiyama’s hair as she slumped against the front door of her house. She was still shaking and trying to steady her breath. “You’re late,” a voice said from the living room. “I know, I’m sorry, Mom,” Rei said, still panting slightly as she took her shoes off before entering the room. “The bus was running late; I ran all the way here from the bus stop.” Ms. Akiyama made a sound in her throat as she looked her daughter up and down. “You were studying? Let me see your pass.” “Yes, Mom,” Rei said as she pulled out the now slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her bag and handed it over. “You’re working too hard in school,” Ms. Akiyama said matter-of-factly. “Well, whatever, I’m glad you’re home,” she discarded the paper on the end table, “I was starting to get worried when I heard that rumbling. Did you hear that?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei nodded and chewed on her lip, unsure what else to say on the topic. “Rei, stop chewing your lip, it’s a bad nervous habit.” “Yes, Mom, sorry.” Rei forced herself to stop and instead just looked down at her shoes. “Well?” Ms. Akiyama asked expectantly a moment later. “It’s almost bedtime; shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? The news said we were supposed to get a few inches of snow, so school will probably be cancelled tomorrow, but I want you in bed on time just in case, okay?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei replied. She tried her best not to turn and run up the stairs, but instead walked casually up them as if it had just been a normal night of studying. Her mother watched her go, sensing something was off about her daughter, but she was unable to put her finger on what, exactly, she was sensing. Rei stopped briefly at the top of the stairs, turned back, and gave a small smile and wave when she saw her mother was still watching, then disappeared around the corner. Ms. Akiyama sighed quietly: what was she going to do with that girl? She was worried what kind of ideas her school was filling her head with, and Rei being out all-night studying didn’t do anything to allay that worry. Picking up the pass Rei had given her, Ms. Akiyama turned and settled back down on the couch. According to the pass, Rei had been working on her midterm essay for English with Professor Lewis. Sighing once more, she set the note aside, making a mental note to ask Rei what she was writing her essay about (maybe that would give her a clue on exactly what kind of idea’s the school was filling Rei’s head with), and turned her attention back to the TV where a mature looking woman was smiling back at her while holding a colorful package. “That why I decided to try new Pampers Overnight Diapers! They are expertly designed for girls who wet the bed,” as the woman delivered the line, she reached her free hand out the side and pulled a young girl of about eight or ten into the frame and into a side hug, “and those who don’t,” the camera pulled out and panned over to reveal an older girl about Rei’s age staring distractedly at her phone seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, “yet,” the mother added after a beat and punctuated it with a wink. Upstairs, Rei leaned against the wall, just out of sight, focusing on getting her breathing back to normal. The night hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but, so far, nothing had gone terribly wrong. She could only hope it stayed that way. Rei pushed herself away from the wall and made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom, closing her door behind her just as downstairs the TV alerted her mother to breaking news. As Ms. Akiyama was stunned to hear of the bombing just a few miles from her, Rei was tossing her backpack on the floor next to her desk and throwing herself face down on her bed. She was slightly dazed and more than exhausted. Part of her couldn’t believe the events of the night. Yes, they had been making plans for weeks now, she had known this night was coming, but now that it was done…it felt surreal. She was terrified of what would come next. Still, there was one more thing she had to do before this night was over. Rei crept back to her bedroom door, listened carefully, then cracked the door ever so slightly. The distant sounds of the TV still drifted up the stairs and the hallway was empty. Closing the door silently, she rushed across the carpet in socked feet to her desk, which, looking back over her shoulder towards the door, she inched away from the wall. Kneeling down, Rei reached behind the desk and pried off a piece of the baseboard to reveal a small crevice between the wall and the floor from which Rei produced a cell phone at least a decade old. It was black with a silver lined screen and a numeric keyboard. Rei brought up the messaging app only to be greeted with over a dozen texts; each was from a different number, but they all said the same thing: “home safe.” She sighed with relief, painstakingly typed out her own missive (“home safe”) on the numeric keyboard and pressed send before immediately replacing the phone in its hiding place and putting everything back in order. Now, Rei thought, it was time to get ready for bed. Chapter Two “It was confirmed early this morning that there were no casualties or injuries in last night’s explosion at the Greenham City Hall, which occurred at exactly 10PM and destroyed most of the building’s eastern half. While authorities have yet to make any statements regarding the cause of the explosion, many are already speculating that this was an act of domestic terrorism committed by the radical leftist feminist group Rebel in response to recent social policy legislation restricting the rights of women under twenty-eight. Supporters of this theory have been quick to point out that the offices of the newly established Office of Juvenile Affairs, which was formed to enforce these new policies, was located in the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall. We’ll be sure to bring you all the breaking details on this story as it develops. Back to you in the studio, Steve.” As the news switched back to less interesting stories, Ms. Akiyama turned her attention away from the tablet propped up on the kitchen counter and back to the cast iron skillet in front of her where the pancakes were beginning to form bubbles along the edge of the batter. She flipped them with the kind of perfection that only came with years of practice and shook her head, it was just terrible what had happened. She knew some people thought the new laws were going too far, but surely bombing buildings was going just as far, if not further. No, it wasn’t the proper way to go about voicing dissent at all. And if this was the kind of stuff feminism was preaching these days, maybe there was some sense to these new laws. Certainly they didn’t teach girls to behave that way when she was younger. Ms. Akiyama just prayed Rei’s head wasn’t being filled with this kind of stuff at that college she had begged so hard to go to. Maybe it wasn’t too late to put her in a vocational school; with a little discipline, Rei could make an excellent secretary. Or maybe she could get Rei a job working at a daycare; Rei always liked children, and maybe tapping into Rei’s maternal instincts was just what was needed to make sure she stayed on the right path. Or, there was always… No, no, Ms. Akiyama shoved that thought away. Rei was a good kid; a bit headstrong, but a good kid, surely that option was too drastic. Ms. Akiyama sighed as she stacked the pancakes on the steadily growing pile; she just wanted Rei to be safe and have a nice, happy life. She didn’t want her daughter falling in with the wrong crowd and getting herself in trouble. It wasn’t easy raising a daughter in such complicated times. Ms. Akiyama was still musing on such matters when Rei shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, almost instinctively following the smell of pancakes. “Pancakes?” Rei asked hopefully. “Does that mean school is canceled?” Mom typically never made pancakes on weekdays. “It sure does,” Ms. Akiyama replied cheerfully, trying to hide the somber mood the news had put her in. “Have you looked outside? We got quite a lot of snow!” Rei grinned and rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room and its bay window overlooking their front yard and the street beyond. Everything was white and brilliantly bright in the morning sun, covered in what must have been at least five or six inches of snow. Even the road was covered; it seemed like the snowplows hadn’t made it to their neighborhood yet. Rei couldn’t help but stare out the window in wonderment; she had always loved the snow. There was just something magical about it. Behind her, Ms. Akiyama leaned against the door frame and grinned. When it came to snow, kids were always kids. “Come on,” Ms. Akiyama said after giving Rei a few moments to take in the wintery spread, “the pancakes are getting cold.” She turned and headed back in to the kitchen without checking to make sure Rei was following her. The news was once again talking about last night’s incident, so Ms. Akiyama quickly turned it off as she grabbed the plate of pancakes; she didn’t want to upset Rei with such terrible news first thing in the morning. “So,” Ms. Akiyama said as she set the plate of pancakes on the table and Rei settled into her seat, “you were working on an essay with your professor last night?” She grabbed the syrup from the fridge before settling into her own seat. “Um, yeah,” Rei responded simply as she loaded her plate with pancakes, “my midterm essay,” she added after a moment. “Oh, that’s nice,” Ms. Akiyama passed the syrup across the table and took a couple pancakes off the stack for herself. “What’s it about?” “Um,” Rei was drenching her pancakes in syrup, “well, it’s…well, our professor gave us some articles to choose from and we just have to like respond to one of them.” “Interesting, what kind of articles?” “Just, you know, current events stuff.” “Uh-huh, and what article did you choose?” Sure, Ms. Akiyama was testing the waters, trying to see what kind of stuff Rei was learning at school, but, to her credit, she was genuinely interested in her daughter’s life. Rei, on the other hand, was getting nervous. Her mother didn’t usually ask her this many questions about her schoolwork. Rei liked that her mother didn’t ask her about her schoolwork. Rei thought the less her mother asked about her schoolwork, the better. Why was her mother suddenly interested? She thought about lying, but if her mother asked to see the essay, she’d be caught immediately. “Well, just about…about the passing of The Hayes Act…” “Oh, I see.” Rei shoveled a too large bite of pancakes into her mouth to avoid having to respond. Oh, I see? What did that mean? Rei tried to smile around the bite of pancakes, but her eyes were searching her mother’s face for anything that might hint to her true reaction. Ms. Akiyama worked to keep her face as passive as possible, raising her cup and taking a long, slow sip of coffee to help her efforts. She had barely discussed the act with her daughter since its passage six months ago. She hadn’t needed to much, and it had always felt like such a…touchy subject. “Why did you choose that article?” Ms. Akiyama asked, trying hard to sound casual but interested and definitely non-confrontational. Just a mom interested in her daughter’s schoolwork. Rei speared a hunk of pancake with her fork and cut it away from the rest with her knife, “Um, I just thought the article was interesting,” she spoke with her head down, giving her voice a muffled quality. “What was the article about?” Ms. Akiyama knew Rei had strong feelings about The Hayes Act, and she couldn’t blame her. Rei had turned nineteen a month before the law had passed; she had been an adult for thirteen months when she once again became a child in the eyes of the law for another nine years. Of course, Ms. Akiyama understood why her daughter felt so strongly about it; she respected Rei’s passion, but she wished Rei could accept that there was nothing that could be done. She wished Rei could just accept that the world wasn’t what her mother had promised it would be she told Rei she could grow up to be whatever she wanted. “Just,” Rei shrugged, “I guess the author was talking about how it shouldn’t have passed and stuff…” The two were in a minefield; they both knew it. Neither wanted this to end in an explosion, but one couldn’t leave, and the other couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Oh,” Ms. Akiyama said, “do you talk about that kind of stuff a lot in school?” The last time they had discussed The Hayes Act had been when it had come time for Rei to enroll in her second year at Greenham Community College. With Rei then legally a child, she needed Ms. Akiyama’s permission to continue attending college. Ms. Akiyama could have stopped her; she had certainly been tempted to do it. Rei shrugged, “What do you mean ‘that kind of stuff’?” “Stuff like The Hayes Act? Politics?” “I guess, sometimes.” “What kind of stuff do they teach you about it?” Rei shrugged, “I mean, they just like…explain how it came to be. Historically, you know?” “I see.” Ms. Akiyama could sense her daughter getting…defensive? Evasive? She was certainly becoming something. Maybe it was time to pump the brakes. “I just worry,” Ms. Akiyama said, genuinely thinking it would help defuse the situation. “Worried?!” Rei said a little too loudly, “there’s nothing to worry about, Mom!” “It’s just…I hear a lot these days about what kinds of things colleges are teaching and—” “Mo-om!” “—and I don’t want them filling your head with the wrong kinds of ideas, that’s all!” “Mom, they are not…brainwashing me, okay?” “I didn’t say brainwashing, okay? I just hear what kinds of things colleges teach these days, that’s all,” Ms. Akiyama repeated. Rei slumped in her chair. Her mom had managed to ruin pancakes. “I just want you to be happy,” Ms. Akiyama said after a long, awkward pause. She reached across the table to take her daughter’s hand. “College just makes things harder for most girls these days, and, besides, you study so much, it’s not good for you.” “But I like school, Mom. It makes me happy.” “Well, why don’t we sign you up for one of those extended high school for girls programs?” Ms. Akiyama smiled, genuinely thinking it would be a good suggestion. “Ugh, Mom,” Rei withdrew her hand and shot her mother a withering look, “those are just housewife classes.” “There’s nothing wrong with that, Rei!” “I’m not saying there is,” Rei protested, “it’s just not what I want to do.” “I know, you want to be a teacher, but I just don’t…well…you can’t be a teacher for another nine years, what if by then they don’t let women be teachers anymore?” A silence fell over the room as both mother and daughter felt the weight of that thought. It was a legitimate concern. “I don’t know, Mom,” Rei said at last, sounding crestfallen. “But what am I supposed to do?” Ms. Akiyama frowned. Like most mothers, deep down she just wanted her child to be happy. Part of her really wished her child could have her dream, but most of her knew it simply wasn’t meant to be and there was nothing that could change that. Most of her just wanted to help Rei find another way to be happy. Without a word, Ms. Akiyama rose from the table and cleared their plates. Breakfast was clearly over. On her way out of the kitchen, she lightly ruffled Rei’s hair, “Go on,” she said, “enjoy your snow day, okay? But just…think about the extended high school program?” Rei nodded.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look 7 years old, but you're actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen's entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn't the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her how she looks, 7 years old? By Becky Anne ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter One: The Website Nineteen-year-old Kathleen sat staring at her laptop, working on the courage to create an account and profile on the website she just found. She had found this website after taking out her frustrations on the Google search engine. Frustrations she acquired by rage quitting her multiplayer roleplayer game. Baron, her master in the game, turned out to be like most guys she has met online, only wanting sex, cybersex in Baron’s case. Submissive Match, the name of the website, kept staring at her from her purple laptop. It was distracting her from figuring out what she needed to acquire for her return to Mountain College. Not realizing she was doing it, she clicked the yellow create account button. Moving some of her auburn hair out of her view, she flipped back to her list of supplies needed for her return to college next month. “Hmm, most of these things I already have…” she thought. “Oh, I better buy some more notebooks. While I am at it, I will buy that new book by Percy Jackson, ‘Sea of Monsters.’” “It is too bad that Stephanie had financial aid issues. I wonder how this Allison is? Is she going to have a problem with a college roommate who is short enough to be her little sister?” She continued to herself as she looked at her roommate's information pamphlet. Flipping back to the website, “Let's see what they want… I am a submissive… oh, that pulls up a whole new form… some of the standard stuff … Kathleen … Why do they want my middle name … Annabelle Telgenhof … March 16, 1987… I guess the owner's choice for a submissive name … Email… Don’t send me spam from your sponsors… Don’t share my email with suggested owners... Password… I am not sure why they want this information… Weight… 55 pounds soaking wet… Height ... 4’5” rounded up... their selection doesn’t even go that small. I guess I have to choose less than 5’... Location… Pennsylvania… I guess I am looking for an online owner. Oh, what the hell, an offline owner, too... Let’s see, a short questionnaire, a short description, and a recent picture will finish it off.” Looking at the time, “Wowser, that took longer than I thought it would,” Kathleen thought as she put her laptop to sleep. She meets her mother, Marlene, in the kitchen after walking out of her bedroom. “Hello, sweetie. Do you want some ice cream?” Marlene asked as she was scooping into a bowl. “You know I can never turn down cookie dough, Mommie.” "We can watch AFHV as we eat it.” “Sounds like a plan.” “What are your plans for tomorrow while I am at school?” “I told them I would do some volunteering at the zoo since time is getting short until my return to college. I need to stop for college supplies before or after; I just hope I don’t get pulled over for underage driving this time,” Kathleen mentioned. “That still happening?” Her mother asked. “Usually once a week, Mommie.” “Not much we can do about that, unfortunately, sweetie, except for you to grow a few inches,” Marlene pointed out. “Or afoot? Neither an inch nor a foot is going to happen, Mother. That ship sailed ages ago,” Kathleen said crossly, turning her eyes towards the TV. Marlene nodded and watched the television in silence. ~o~O~o~ Rolling out of bed at about 7 o’clock the following day, Kathleen booted up her laptop as she got dressed and ready for a day of volunteering. Coming back to the computer, she started her everyday morning computer habits, email, MySpace, Yahoo Messenger, and a few websites… before logging on to Submissive Match. “Let's see if I got any hits from my profile.” She discovered after she was finally logged in that there were three messages waiting for her. Looking at the first, “Eww, I really didn’t need to see that guy’s dick, this might of been a big mistake. … Oh, there is an ignore feature, thank god.” “Here goes nothing for the second, … interesting name… I seriously doubt his name is really Beast…” “Hello, Little Girl, you’re just the kind of young girl I would really like to meet. You would be perfect kneeling in front of me …” Other than the nickname for herself and himself, this guy isn’t too bad so far, Kathleen thought. “... with my legs spread wide open, and pants zipper down …” “EEEWWW,” Kathleen said out loud, “Spoke too soon!” and she couldn’t click the ignore button fast enough. Leaving the third message for later, she went to get a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Looking at the time, “I will have to leave the third message and college supplies ‘til after the zoo.” ~o~O~o~ “Hello Kathleen, thank you for coming. Why don’t you take the hedgehog and sit down on a bench just inside the entrance to the zoo? You should get plenty of exposure there,” Mr. Cooper, the zoo’s volunteer coordinator, instructed while thinking to himself about that also places her in a place where we can watch her. I am always worried she may be kidnapped, being so small and easy to be confused with an actual grade school kid. Kathleen nodded and headed to where the educational animals were kept. Continuing the thoughts, Mark took a memory trip back five years. “I first told her she was too young to volunteer. She had to be 14. I could have sworn it was a five or six-year-old asking to volunteer. I am kind of glad she pleaded her case and produced proof of age since she has been one of my best teenage volunteers.” He continued to himself, “I will never tell her, but that outfit is custom-ordered for her. I also purposely took the tags off to hide the fact that it is a size 7/8 girls' polo shirt.” Looking out of his office window towards the entrance plaza that it overlooked, he noticed Kathleen was setting up right where he requested her to. “I have never discussed it with her, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she were self-conscious about her height. I would be if I were her,” he thought before returning back to his volunteer hours spreadsheet. ~o~O~o~ “Riiinnnggg” “Susquehanna Valley Zoo, Volunteer department, Mark speaking, how can I help you?” … “How old is your daughter?” … “Sorry, she is a few years too young. She has to be 14 to volunteer.” … “The one with a hedgehog today? She is actually 19 years old.” … “Unfortunately, a common misunderstanding with her. Have your daughter give me a call in a couple of years.” … “Talk to them then.” Hanging up the phone, he looked out the window at the object of the confusion. A group of grade school kids currently surrounded her. The only thing that set her apart from the other kids was the green polo shirt, which signified that she was a volunteer. ~o~O~o~ “OK, Mr. Cooper, I have returned the hedgehog to the education department.” “Thank you, Kathleen, five hours today?” Mark said, looking at the clock. “What was your driving time?” he continued. “Yes, that is correct, and it takes me twenty minutes each way to get here.” “When do I expect you back?” “Unless you have a better idea, I should return Wednesday at the opening,” Kathleen said, thinking of her plans. She had agreed to go out with some high school friends tomorrow. “Works for me. When do you return to college?” “My parents and I are going in a convoy next month, August 13th.” “You will be missed again this year.” “Aww, I will be back again next year,” Kathleen said as she felt her face color up. Showing her to the door, Mark turned his attention to entering Kathleen’s hours in his spreadsheet. “That girl is the closest thing to a little girl I would ever have. I can’t seem to produce the required X chromosome for a girl,” he thought, thinking of his three boys currently in daycare. Meanwhile, Kathleen started driving to a bookstore to buy her prize book and required school supplies. Seeing a cop tailgating her in her rearview mirror, she checked her speed. Noticing she was actually under the speed limit, she thought, “Not again. Can I ever drive without being pulled over for underage driving?” After five minutes and no lights, she wondered what was taking him so long to pull her over. Five more minutes later, the cop slowed and made a U-turn. Kathleen thought that was strange. He tailed me and didn’t pull me over. ~o~O~o~ Pulling into the driveway, she couldn’t get in the house fast enough to check that third message that had been calling her all day. After booting up her laptop, she went to the kitchen to get a glass of peach tea. “Let's see,” Kathleen said, entering her details on the website. “Oh, two new messages. I must have received another today.” Opening up the first message, the third from this morning, she began to read it out loud, “Dear Buttercup, I was inspecting the new profiles and happened to notice yours. I am intrigued by your profile, and I hope to hear from you. Master Adam” “Well, that was short to the point and not creepy,” Kathleen said, going to the second message... “Not another dick picture,” Kathleen screamed, going to the ignore button. After returning to Master Adam’s message, she checked out his profile. “Adam Dale, 25 years old, Pennsylvania, Looking for online/offline submissive, oh he isn’t bad looking.” Hitting the reply button, she typed, using the submissive name he gave her, “Dear Sir, Buttercup is intrigued by your profile too and interested in communicating with you. I am not sure how to go about the next step. - Buttercup.” Putting her computer to sleep, she went into the living room to watch some television. ~o~O~o~ Author's Note: Comments, and questions are always welcomed. I am currently writing chapter 69 of this story. -- Thanks Becky

Well, here goes nothing. I have posted on ABDL sites before but I don't think my heart was really in those stories. That has changed now, this story is one that I have put plenty of work into and I am finally ready to test it out on a real audience. I have a few chapters ready in the coming weeks but, based on how things go I hope to move to a regular schedule as I have lots of plans! Note regarding grammar, well I am terrible at it. I don't have an editor and rely mainly on re-reads and free web grammar checks so, don't judge me too bad, ha! Hope you Enjoy! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The sound of a flip-flop smacking the bottom of a foot and the ground in an annoying, repetitive beat filled the car as they approached their destination. “Tara, stop that!” her mother spoke sharply. Tara leaned up from the clenched position she was in at the back of the van and pressed her foot down hard to stop the tapping. She had been holding back her bladder for the better part of the trip. The freeway separating Tara’s house from her mother’s best friend was legendary. She had been holding back the two colas she had pounded at lunch and was thankful the end was nearly in sight. “I keep telling you it's not healthy for you to keep doing this to yourself; I thought we were past this.” Diane continued. In her current condition, Tara couldn’t help but agree with her. Ever since she was little, she had issues with bathroom breaks. As a small child, she was potty trained early, but that did not stop her from constantly having accidents. Her mom always said she had her ‘head in the clouds’; she would be so focused on something that nothing else would matter… nothing. As she grew older, Tara continued to have accidents that would go up and down in frequency. When she started school, she earned the unpleasant nickname ‘Tinkle Tara’. Between accidents and a bout with bedwetting when she was 7 and 9 years old, it looked like she was doomed to it. However, for whatever reason, a switch had flipped, and it had been nearly 8 years since ‘Tinkle Tara’ was uttered. On the other hand, in the last few months, Tara has been putting her bathroom training through the ringer. Time after time, she found herself holding her bladder and aching from the effort. Whether it was at the mall, watching a movie, or sitting through classes, the urge to go was becoming more frequent and urgent each time. She had not told her mother that she almost always felt the need to go ‘right now’ whenever she had to pee. It never helped matters that her mother was a health nut and had drilled into her to keep hydrated, so she always was drinking water. It was a habit, but then again, it was only in the last few months that things started to go sideways. Now Tara was also going to be playing ‘big sister/babysitter’ to a 10 year old. Her mother and Brittany’s, had been friends since High School and now work for the same company. Both had been married and are now divorced. With lucrative jobs and a daughter, they were about as close as any family member. So when they both were chosen to go overseas to be in charge of operations in a new business move for the company, they quickly decided the plan. As Tara was 18, she would watch and take care of Britteny until the two mothers got back, which would be around the beginning of the summer. “Now remember, you have to be in charge of Brittany and keep up with your school work. Those are the two most important things,” her mother said, for about the hundredth time. “Mom, I know. I have hung out with Brittany plenty of times before,” Tara countered. “Not for this long and with this many responsibilities. Plus, Cathrine has… Well something else that you are going to have to keep track of,” her mom finished. “Oh?” the girl raised her eyebrow. “She will tell you,” her mother said giving her a look that said, this is serious. As the van pulled into the garage of Cathrine and Brittany’s home, Tara shot like a bullet out the door into the house. Catherine was blurred as she shot for the bathroom in the room she usually stayed in on the second floor. Scrambling through the door, the sight of the bathroom made Tara relax. “No!” she gasped, hurriedly tired to get the button on her shorts undone. She had relaxed too early, and now things were out of control. Finally sitting on the seat, a sharp but blissful relief crept over her. She had not realized how much and how painful this time had been. Tara knew that she should stop doing this but, for now, inspected the damage to her shorts. The whole crotch of the garment was a darker shade of blue and was a lost cause. Luckily, she had one other pair close to these that she could grab from her bag and slip into. This was only the third time this had happened, but it certainly was not something she enjoyed. Slipping into fresh clothes, she made her way back down to the living room to ‘officially’ greet Cathrine and Brittany. “Whew, sorry about that,” she greeted Catherine. “It’s alright, pretty on par for you, ha!” Cathrine jested, then her voice went low,“Follow me to the kitchen.” Her mother was talking with Brittany, and the girl was looking like she did not have much to say, so she followed Catherine. “So there is something that I have been keeping from you; I just told her mother last night,” she let out with a long breath. “Oh no, is something wrong?” Tara blurted out. “No, no, nothing serious, but… Brittany has been having some troubles. Bathroom troubles,” she responded flatly. A heat rose in Tara’s cheeks, and she simply said, “Oh…” “Now I know that you had your own issues, but I recently saw a book about accidents among older children and teenagers. I have Brittany following some rules that are designed to help her get through this phase.” Cathrine explained as she put a hardcover book on the counter. “The front of the book explains how the rules work - the ins and outs as they were. And in the back there is the list of rules and a little chart if you need it,” she went on. Tara picked up the book, and before she could utter a word, Cathrine continued, “You obviously don’t have to read it, and Brittany knows the first two rules by heart now, but you should read them and she has to follow them. Supplies are in the upstairs hall closet.” “Supplies?” the girl questioned. “Well, in a nutshell, Brittany has to use protection whenever she has accidents. The more accidents, the more protection, and the more…eh… privileges she loses.” the older woman explained. “Ah, well, I guess that makes sense.” Tara concluded. She couldn’t believe it, Brittany was in diapers! It was a shock only because there had never been a hint to her that her little friend may have had such troubles. Well, Tara herself was smaller, but not terribly so, but she was still taller by a couple of inches. Brittany had a heart shaped face, round blue eyes, and shorter brunette hair, while Tara had sandy blonde hair past her shoulders, brown eyes, and a longer face. Both had followed their mother’s genes, like matched sets. “Cathrine, we need to get to the airport,” her own mother called out. “Oh yes, coming!” she replied, and then to Tara, “Just read the rules and make sure Brittany follows them, simple as it gets!” With that, she hugged Tara and made her way to the living room, where her daughter and Tara’s mother were. There were the usual tearful goodbyes, as the realization of how long it would be before they were all together again sunk in. All too soon, it was just Tara and Brittany watching TV in silence as the girls both recovered from the painful departure. Tara ordered pizza as a way of cheering them both up, and by the time the large pizza and sodas had been consumed, it was close to bedtime. She, Tara, knew it was time to broach the subject. She decided to do so in a manner that showed she trusted Brittany to know what she had to do. “Well, I guess it is time for bed, Brit,” she stated. Brittany yawned. “Yeah, I guess so.” The girl got up from the couch and made her way to the stairs. “Wait, Brittany!” she called to stop the girl. “Is there something we need to talk about? Some rules?” The younger girl froze, and she stiffened as she turned to face Tara, so she went on the offensive. “Before you say anything, it's alright. I had problems when I was around your age,” she tried to soothe Brittany. “I don’t want to follow the rules without mom,” she almost spat back at Tara. “Look, this will go smoothly if we just follow what your mom wants you to do.” Tara countered. “But… it's just… It's so embarrassing, and I want to just be normal.” Brittany pleaded, “Please don't make me do them.” It nearly broke Tara’s heart to see Brittany clinging onto a small hope that she would be out of whatever she had been enduring. “What exactly are the rules you are supposed to follow, i haven't read them yet because I want you to tell me,” Tara said. “Well, umm… you… There are five rules, and if you have any, you know. Then you start at 1 and go from there.” Brittany mumbled. “I see, and what rule are you on now?” She questioned further. “1B,” Brittany said out of the side of her mouth. “1B?” “Yeah, the first rule has three parts… some kind of like grace period before the rest of the rules, I guess.” Brittany had crossed her arms and had not looked at Tara since she started talking about the rules. “How far have you gone down the list?” Tara asked with complete curiosity. “Just two, but it was awful.” Brittany huffed. Tara was in a bind; she didn’t want to fight Brittany for weeks on end. And she didn’t want to have to deal with Brittany having accidents she could prevent. But most of all, she did want to have fun with Brittany; she really was like a little sister. The girl shouldn’t have to feel alone in this… then it hit her. It was drastic, but it just might work. “Alright, let's look at 1B,” Tara announced. Going into the kitchen, she opened the back of the book and found the page with 1A at the top. She read out, “1A - a single day-time accident will result in a pull-up for 1 day and night.” Turning the page, she also read, “1B - a single night-time accident will result in regular pull-ups for 2 days & night-time pull-ups for 2 nights.” Brittany was bright red but Tara talked fast to ease the embarrassment. “So you…” “The night before last, this is my second night. Mom let me go without during the day today because she was leaving,” the girl clarified. “Good, then we will both follow the rules going forward.” Tara stated. “Both?” Brittany asked. “Both,” she replied. “What good is that? It's still just me that will have to do any of it!” Brittany screeched. “Hold on. Did you see me dash upstairs when I got here?” Tara asked, and the girl nodded. “Well, I didn't quite make it, and my shorts got a bit wet. So I guess that puts me on 1A, right?” she said, matter of fact. “You're lying,” Brittany huffed, but Tara was prepared for this. A quick trip to her room and her shorts from earlier presented to Brittany were all the evidence she needed. “Whoa!” Brittany exclaimed. “Told you, so we will both be in pull-ups tonight. Your mom gave you a break, so we will just go with the pull-ups tonight. And if we are both dry in the morning, this all resets, right?” She asked cheerily. “Yeah, but… but… “ Brittany couldn’t come up with an argument. “Now come on, we are still about the same size; let's see if they fit and we can get off to bed.” Tara led the dumbstruck girl up the stairs and to the closet. It was packed with white boxes, each labeled in the upper corner. The shelf at chest height had two opened boxes, one of the left read ‘Slims’. Thinking these must be the pull-ups she grabbed two, and handed one to Brittany. “Let’s both get pjs on, i will come to your room in about 10 minutes.” Tara said as she closed her door behind her. Throwing the pull-up on the bed, it suddenly hit Tara what she was about to do. It had been so long since she had worn something like that she almost felt as if it stared back at her. As if this meant more than just a means to an end. Shaking her head, she inspected the pull-up; it wasn’t any of the major brands she knew. In fact, it only had an “R” in the center of the waistband to indicate a brand. The sides were just a bit longer than the width of her hand and the padding looked fairly thin, but then it was just a pull-up. Changing into a tank top with thin shoulder straps, she placed her usual PJ pants next to the pull up on the bed. Stepping into the pull-up she began to doubt that she would fit, yet as she dragged it up to her waist, it never seemed to tighten. Standing there, 18 years old, and in a pull-up, it may as well have been fitted for her. It clung to her a bit but didn’t feel tight, and she felt the leg holes conform around her leg just below her butt, a perfect fit. She walked around and noted the extra padding and the overall ‘bulk’ she was not accustomed to as she moved. Satisfied, she pulled her PJs over the pull-up and went to see Brittany. Knocking on the door, the girl called out that she was ready. Tara was momentarily taken aback as Brittany had some small shorts and the diaper spilled out of the top and the sides. “All set?” she asked. “Yeah… I guess,” but Brittany kept glancing at Tara's PJs. Pulling the band of her pants down a bit, Tara showed the top of the pull and said, “Fitted just fine.” Tara began to giggle, and a smile reached Brittany's face as well. Soon they were laughing hard at the situation, and the tension was broken between them. “Night, Brit, see in the morning.” Tara chuckled out. “Night, Tara” was the reply as the younger girl got into bed. Back in her own room, Tara turned off the lights and got under the streets, exhausted. However, she almost immediately realized why Brittany’s shorts were so small. Being under covers, in pants, and in a pull-up was not the most comfortable thing. But tiredness eventually overtook Tara, and she drifted off.

Hello I've been reading a bunch of little space stories and became inspired to write my own. It's the first story I've written like this so I hope everyone enjoys it. Chapter 1 Classification Day Sarah looked around the auditorium, there were just over two dozen students assembled. Every year from the ages of fifteen to eighteen students are tested for any developing classifications. Those who test positive are divided into three types, dominant, subordinate, and neutral, with several subtypes under dom and sub. Sarah figured she was going to be a caregiver, she always loved playing with her little cousins. Loved seeing them happy and smiling. Caregivers are usually taller but it's not unheard of them to be shorter than six feet. She stood just over five feet tall, with chestnut brown hair and sparkling green eyes that seemed larger than normal. Her face was soft and slightly puffy giving her an innocent look. It was a source of frustration for her, while it helped her when dealing with kids and littles, adults treated her younger than she actually was. The other students looked around nervously, a few of them were obviously friends as they huddled together whispering amongst themselves. She can't blame the others, they probably didn't know what they were going to be. Their attention was drawn to the front by an opening door. A woman walked from the open door to the podium, tapping on the mic before turning her attention to the students. “Welcome to Classification assignment,” the woman said. She was taller than the assembled students. Standing at least six feet tall, with long blond hair and a warm gentle face. “You all can call me Miss Clarissa, and today you’ll all be tested for a classification.” The students' voices raised as a few blurted out questions. Miss Clarissa raised her hand, silencing everyone. “I know you all have questions but we have a lot of students to get through. When your name is called please go through those doors.” she pointed to a set of double doors that stood open. A nurse in scrubs standing there with a list. “Sarah Anderson,” the nurse called. Sarah jumped a little and walked over to the woman, who had a gentle smile on her face. Sarah was led to a small area sectioned off with some partitions. “Please sit. Today we're going to be drawing some blood and then you’ll take the Bectel test.” “Is it painful?” Sarah asked. “Not at all sweetie, some electrodes will be placed on your head then you’ll watch a video while a computer monitors your neural activity. Now I'm going to draw some blood. Is that alright with you?” Sarah nodded her head, and watched the nurse take out a blood draw kit and several vials. She wrapped an elastic band around the girl's arm before feeling for a vein in the crook of her elbow. It took her a moment to find an acceptable vein but she nodded in satisfaction and cleaned the area with an alcohol wipe. Popping the safety cap off the butterfly needle she went to insert it. The girl watched the needle, her heart racing as it drew closer to her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her hands. “Relax sweetie, it’ll only take a moment,” the nurse said gently. Sarah nodded and unclenched her hands, whimpering as she felt the needle pierce her skin. “Shh shh, you’re fine. Just going to take a moment,” she spoke calmingly and soothingly. “Just one more. That's a good girl.” The nurse took four vials before removing the needle and taping a cotton ball to the puncture. Sarah felt a few tears fall from her eyes as she watched the nurse put labels on the vials and drop them into a bag. The nurse walked away and came back a few seconds later with a sucker. “Here you go darling,” she said, handing it out. “Ready for the next part? I promise it won't hurt.” “‘Kay,” Sarah said with a sniffle. The nurse led her through the room, other kids were having their blood drawn. One of them bawled their eyes out. She tried to focus on her breathing. Trying to calm her racing heart. She didn't notice when they left the room and entered a small room with a machine in it. An older man stood beside a small reclining chair. “I have Sarah Anderson here,” she said, handing over some paperwork. “Excellent, can you sit here for me,” the doctor asked gently. Sarah nodded and hopped up on the chair, her head feeling fuzzy from the needle, she always hated needles. The doctor explained what he was going to do, which she mostly ignored. Except for the last part which caught her attention. “... then once I get a baseline reading I'm going to show you a video.” “Video…?” “Yes, it's just some funny shapes and colors,” he said, walking over to the computer, then tapping a few buttons. “Ready sweetheart?” She nodded again, and watched him flip a switch with trepidation. Bracing for the unknown she was slightly disappointed when nothing happened. He simply smiled down at her, putting her at ease. While she waited she looked around the room. It was a classroom, all the desks were pushed to one wall and the room divider was stretched across it, dividing the classroom in half. “One of my colleagues is in the other half with another Bectel tester,” he said, following her gaze. The computer dinged and he clapped his hands together. “Alright sweetheart, I'm going to start the next part now, go ahead and look at the TV there.” “‘Kay…” she said watching the tv. It was still black for a moment before turning on. It was showing a pure white image. She started to turn her head when the doctor gently patted the top of it. “Keep watching.” She nodded and became entranced as some shapes and colors flashed on screen. They began to change, changing size and color. As she watched her head began to feel fuzzy again. She shook it, trying to clear it while keeping her eyes on the screen. But the fuzzy feeling continued. Spreading through her whole head. The funny shapes continued to change. “Pwetty…” “How are you feeling sweetheart?” “I few fuzzy,” she giggled. “Do you know where you are?” “Scoo!” she exclaimed. “That's right,” he said, smiling at her. “Pwetty sparkus,” she beamed. The video kept her rapt attention, running for a while before fading back to pure white. “Are you with me sweetheart?” “Huh?” Sarah blinked several times before shaking her head. “What…?” “We're done, you'll receive your results in a few days after the bloodwork finishes.” “Thank you,” she said. “No thank you for being such a good girl,” he said, smiling as her cheeks turned pink. “Nurse, I'm ready for the next one.” Sarah looked at the clock, somehow thirty minutes had passed already. Her attention was pulled away as the door opened up. The nurse led another student into the room and took Sarah back to the auditorium. “Sarah Anderson?” Miss Allison called. “Yes ma’am?” “You may go home, take this letter to your parents please,” she said, holding out a sealed envelope. “Yes ma’am,” she said, taking the offered envelope and walking to the door. She pulled her phone from her pocket and texted her mom asking for a pickup. Settling down to read something while she waited. She got a few chapters through one of her favorite little stories before her mom pulled up. “Sarah sweetie,” her mom called her, making her jump. She was so focused on what she was reading she didn't notice her mom standing in front of her. “How’d it go?” “It was alright, they took some of my blood and hooked me up to a weird computer.” “Ah, I remember the day I was classified. Everyone there said it was obvious what I was,” she said, a nostalgic tinge to her voice. “Really?” Sarah asked, hopping to her feet and following her mom to their car. They both climbed into the car, and buckled in. “Yea, it was very obvious I was a dom even before then.” “It was?” “Yea, I was already more developed than other girls my age, and I was very authoritative. The next year I met your father,” she said, then sighed. It was true, her mom was nearly six feet tall, standing at five foot eleven. She was a mistress, which she reluctantly told her daughter. Much to Sarah's embarrassment. Her mother had the same chestnut hair, but hers fell down to the middle of her back. Her warm honey colored eyes drew the viewer to her face, with its small dainty nose, full pouty lips, and sensual smile. “I miss dad,” Sarah said, sniffling slightly, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I do too.” A silence between them fell as her mother drove back to their house. “So, any idea what your classification is?” her mom asked, breaking the silence. “Caregiver probably.” “You do have a lot of fun playing with Alice and Sam. Are you sure you’re not a little?” “No mom, I don’t want to be a little.” “Why not sweetie?” “Cause I don't want to be reliant on someone my whole life. I don't want to be restricted from being an adult. I don't want my freedom taken away. Besides, I don't have any little tendencies.” “Still you might be surprised,” she said softly. “Mom no, I don't even want to think that way. I’ll be a caregiver. End of story,” she said, crossing her arms. “Alright sweetie,” her mom said, chuckling softly. “Did they say how long you have to wait?” “No, but they gave me a letter for you,” she said, pulling it out of her pocket. “Hold on to it until we get home sweetie.” “‘Kay mom.” Sarah pulled out her phone and texted her best friend Melissa. She’s also doing her classification test today, but later than Sarahs. With a big yawn her head bobbed and fell to her chest as she fell asleep. ***** “Sweetie, time to get up.” “Huh?” Sarah stirred, looking at her mom bleary eyed. “We’re home.” She looked around in confusion. “Still tired sweetie?” Sarah nods and holds up her arms. “Such a spoiled girl,” her mom said, giggling as she picked up her daughter, pocketing the envelope that had fallen from her grip. Carrying the half awake girl to the front door. She used her free hand to open the door. “We’re back,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Welcome back Mistress Michelle,” a woman called from the other room. “How’d it go?” “Well enough,” she replied, walking into the living room. Placing her daughter down on the couch she turned to face a woman who looked very different than her. Smaller with light blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She was much smaller at only “Long day?” “I think she was just stressed. You know how stressful classification day can be,” she sighed sitting down next to the woman, who pressed into her side and hummed contentedly. “I know, my mom was sad that I got designated as a pet,” she said nuzzling into Michelle. “Like she was super supportive but I could tell she was disappointed.” “And it's her loss,” she replied, planting a kiss on the smaller woman's lips. “You’re a wonderful woman, Ariel. And an amazing pet. “I’m so glad you adopted me,” she said. “Especially after Jason.” “Shh shh, don't even think about him,” Michelle said, swiping a tear from her pet's cheek. “Should we wake Sarah up?” “No, leave her to sleep for now, it's barely been twenty minutes. She gave me a letter,” she said, holding up the sealed envelope. Dear Miss Michelle, This letter is to inform you that preliminary results show that your daughter will be classified as a little. You should make sure she's aware and ready to receive the official announcement, as well as her official regression range. Should she drop before receiving the results we encourage you to allow it to progress naturally. Sarah will be required to attend special classes. Before her eighteenth birthday we advise finding her a caregiver. If she doesn’t have a registered caregiver sixty days after her eighteenth birthday a foster caregiver will be assigned to her. Once her age range is established a list of required items will be supplied with the classification folder. Best regards, Agent Alexi, C.L.P.S. “Shit…” Michelle swore. “What?” “Sarah’s going to be pissed…”

Now available on Amazon with a preview of Volume 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SP7Q3WD Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1071417185 _______________________________________ Chapter 1 “So why are you here?” She smiled when she said it; you could tell it was routine, the first question she always asked, and the smile was just good service. Staring across the desk, slumped in his chair, not sure where to put his hands or how to answer and preserve some pride, Eric didn’t respond right away. “I guess … I just don’t want to be here anymore,” Eric replied while keeping his eyes on the desk. Cheryl was used to this. Not many people who came to an adoption center wanted to talk about it. Except the exhibitionists; they wouldn’t stop talking about it, but it was obvious from his body language and mumbling tone that Eric wasn’t here for any of those reasons. “I understand, honey,” Cheryl said, softening her voice, “a lot of people feel that way. Can I ask you some questions about how you feel?” Eric knew what coming; he’d asked the same questions himself more times than he cared to remembered. He nodded. “Do you feel like hurting yourself?” “No.” Flat, matter of fact, and truthful. “Have you ever felt like hurting yourself?” “No.” “Do you feel like hurting someone else?” “No.” Have you ever felt like hurting someone else?” “No.” Cheryl ticked off boxes on her iPad while Eric waited patiently. “I’m so glad to hear that. Can I ask a few more?” She didn’t pause for him to answer. “Have you ever been diagnosed with any of the following? Bipolar disorder, Schizophrenia, Depression, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Personality Disorder, Dissociative disorder?” “Just depression and anxiety,” Eric said as he pushed back in his chair and exhaled. He’d been with depression for eight years and had this conversation with every new doctor and therapist he’d been to in that time. It was boring. Before Cheryl could get her next word out, Eric answered her next question. “I’m taking 150mg of Bupropion once a day and Xanax as needed. I’ve was seeing a therapist every other week until about 6 months ago. Her names is in the paperwork I brought with me. I’d say my depression and anxiety are both well controlled.” “Good,” she said, “That’s all good. Do you mind if I call your therapist to talk with her?” “No, that’s fine.” “Good. I need to be sure your decision isn’t being influenced by your depression or anxiety. So, back to what you were saying earlier, you ‘don’t want to be here anymore.’ Can you tell me more about that?” Cheryl leaned forward, trying to help Eric engage. “I’m work for the county…I’m a social worker…” Cheryl was practiced at this. Nod, say nothing, the client will fill the silence when they’re ready. “I … I …” Eric sucked in air and held back a sob. “I just can’t stay here anymore. I can’t … keep doing this.” Cheryl pushed her box of tissues toward Eric, who reached into his pocket and pulled out a cotton handkerchief. Dabbing at his eyes, he said started again. “Kenard Bering was my client. You probably didn’t hear about that. Good kid, not a trouble maker; wasn’t going to be any project to Harvard story, but he was on track, ya know. And he gets shot over a fucking cellphone.” Tears dripped, and Eric occasional wiped them away as he fell into a soliloquy: “Second kid in a year killed ……………. Dies at school from a fucking asthma attack. When’s the last time you heard of anyone dying from a fucking asthma attack ……………. And this asshole cop says to this 14 year old, ‘well, what are you doing to make your mother hit you? I couldn’t believe it, I … who the fuck says that or even thinks that way? How do you send a kid home who doesn’t want to go home? ……………. Burned ……………. Dropped out ……………. Caught with a weapon his mother game him. And that was after she beat him for losing a fight ……………. But so what if he graduates, right? ‘Cause it’s not like there’s anything but a mop or an apron waiting for him out there ……………. Left her kid to sit in his own shit while she went to get high and doesn’t even tell the cop the kid is home alone ……………. Jail ……………. 12 years old and pregnant and bipolar and both parents on drugs – what can I even do for that? ……………. He had priors ……………. I lost him to the pipeline ……………. Caught out on a corner ……………. Neighborhood says the cops did it ……………. ……………. ……………. ……………. …………….” Eric had stopped crying. He wasn’t sad. He was angry and disgusted and indignant. “For every one I save, whatever that means, there’s five I don’t. It’s like watching a never ending catastrophe and it rips my guts out every time.” Tired now, he slumped back in his chair, “Everyone said give it a year, you’ll get hardened to it. And I never did. Eight years, never gets better, never gets worse. It just is. And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t see it anymore.” Cheryl nodded her, “Uh huh…” waiting to see if Eric had more to say. When she thought he was done, she asked, “That sounds very hard for you. Can you tell me, though, why go to the other dimension? That’s pretty drastic; couldn’t you just change jobs?” “No,” Eric answered, “Because I know it’s all out there. I can’t live with myself if I quit. Or at least I can’t do it here.” That made sense to her. A sad kind of sense. Eric sounded like the kind of person there are too few of, but those qualities that made him so valuable to everyone else were the same qualities that made him so unhappy. Classic burnout. It wasn’t the first time Cheryl had seen this in a client, but it was obviously the worst, and she understood how Eric could believe there would never be an end to it if he stayed. He might even be right, she thought. “Eric, I’m going to be very frank with you. The dimension is more like our world than a lot of people want to admit. In some ways, it’s much, much worse, the way they treat people like us. It’s different in different countries, but in some of them we’re not seen as people. If you’ve heard anyone compare it to slavery and torture, they weren’t wrong. How does that make you feel?” Eric wasn’t surprised. He’d heard it all. It was right there in the web forums: kidnapping, mutilation, mind alteration. Even “Island of Dr. Moreau.” “I know,” Eric replied. “That’s why I came here and not some other place.” “Because you know we only work with people who live in Itali?” “Yeah.” “Well, that was smart of you. Some people get impatient and will go anywhere, or just go somewhere in the dimension and take their chances. You seem like someone who does his research, but I just want to tell you some things to separate fact from fiction: · Itali only permits adoptions through license agencies like ours, and they only adopt direct from our dimension to Itali. Not from any of the other countries there. · While humans can live there independently with the same rights at Bigs, if you adopt yourself out, you’ll have the same rights as a minor there. Anything that is permissible for a Big to do to their own children can be done to you. Anything that is impermissible for a Big to do to their own children cannot be done to you. · You can select the stage of life you wish to begin with as a Little: newborn, infant or toddler. Those are the only choices. That is binding on the Bigs who adopt from us. However, they retain the right to decide the details associated with your stage of life, which may vary from your expectations. Whether and at what pace you progress through life stages, and what point, if any, you stop progressing, is up to the Big. If you choose or consent to it, your Big may further regress you from your current stage at any time. · You’ll notice we call them Bigs. They call us Littles. ‘Amazon’ is a pejorative there. · There’s no amending the adoption agreement. It says what it says. We can make your wishes known to prospective parents, but they can break any promise they make. But we don’t adopt out to just anyone. We thoroughly inspect all of our clients. We wouldn’t work with them if we believed they were bad people. · Our adoption agreement prohibits the following: o Involuntary physical or mental alteration o Giving, selling, or trading Littles o Having custody of any Little not adopted through an agency licensed in Itali o Violations of any Itali laws; suspicion of violations to be investigated, with a preponderance of evidence sufficient to be considered a violation of this agreement o Withholding or unduly delaying adequate medical care o Abuse, neglect, or negligence as defined by The Agency; suspicion of abuse, neglect, or negligence to be investigated, with a preponderance of evidence sufficient to be considered a violation of this agreement o Traveling with the Little to, or sending the Little to, any country where any of the above are not expressly forbidden by law · We have offices in Itali that conduct surprise inspections and work with the authorities there. If they find any violation of the adoption agreement, under the treaty permitting inter-dimensional adoptions between us and Itali, the police are required by law take you into their custody and return you to us. · Unless your parents violate the adoption agreement, you must remain with them as their Little for 10 years. You can asked to be returned to us, but they are not obligated to comply. Conversely, they can return you to us whenever they choose. At the end of those 10 years, you can decide to stay their Little, return to us, or remain in Itali as a full and independent citizen. · Your property and assets with be placed in a trust our non-profit partner manages. If choose to return to us or to become an independent citizen after 10 years, your property will be returned to you less the what we spend eliminating any remaining debt you have here. If you choose to stay a Little after 10 years, your assets, property, and any interest are liquidated, the revenue will be used to pay off your debt, and anything left over will be donated to fund the non-profit. I just want to remind you that Itali is like here; there are good people and bad people. We only work with good, but if you’re looking for a Utopia, that’s not Itali. Does all that make sense? Do you have any questions?” “No. Well, I guess yeah – what happens next,” Eric asked. Eric was familiar with provisions like these. It was part of his job, dealing with foster parents and adoptions. This aligned closely to the laws of he was used to dealing with. He made a lot of those inspections over the years himself. “I know that was a lot to take in,” Cheryl answered, “It’s all in the paperwork I’m going to send you home with. If you have any questions, please reach out to me, and we will be testing you to ensure you read and understood the adoption agreement before we approve you for adoption. So next I’m going to process all the information on those forms we asked you to bring in, then I’m going to call you doctors and last therapist. Our compliance department is going to run the background check you’re allowing us to do, and that includes all of your financial history so we know what we’re taking on when if you decide to move forward. Once that’s done, I’ll be in touch. It usually takes about 10 days for the average person. I’m guessing because of your job you’re going to appear in a lot of court records, so it may take longer. And in the meantime you just go about your life like normal. Don’t make any drastic decisions; don’t go on a spending spree; don’t do anything dangerous or stupid. Anything like that has the potential to cause us to reject your application. If you have any questions, you can call me or one of our licensed therapists – I really encourage everyone to do that anyway. And if at any time you change your mind and want to just forget this, we can do that, too; everything here is confidential, and all your records will be destroyed. Do you have any more questions right now?” With her monologue done, Eric thought for a moment. It was a lot to take in, and even though he was far from the end of it, everything seemed very real now. “Uh, not a question really. Can I tell you one thing I’m looking for in a Big,” Eric asked. “Of course.” Eric felt sheepish. He’d thought about this a lot, and he was embarrassed by it, as if this entire thing weren’t embarrassing. “I don’t know what life stage I want to start at, but, uh, can you, um, put it in my file that I don’t think I ever want to grow up again?” “I can’t promise your Big would abide by that, but I will put it in your file, and we’ll try do our best to find a Big who wants the same as you. Anything else?” “No,” Eric said as he stood up and stuck his hand out. “Thank you for your help. I’ll do all the things you said.” “Thank you for coming in today,” Cheryl replied as she shook Eric’s hand. As Eric reached the door, Cheryl felt compelled to add, “Eric, we’re going to make sure everything turns out right for you. I’ll make sure. And while all this is going on, please … just try to take care of yourself … for me.” Eric nodded and left. Cheryl liked Eric. She had a soft spot for people who had soft spots, and she knew people like Eric were worth protecting. We need more people like him in this world, Cheryl thought, but he needs something else. She understood why Eric wanted to be with a Big who didn’t want him to grow up: so he’d never have to see the kinds of things he saw everyday here. Returning to her desk, Erica started taking in on her notes for the file: Eric is 29 years old and suffers from depression and anxiety which are well controlled with medication … overwhelmed by work and the suffering he sees in the world … is educated and intelligent … is a sensitive and kind person … appears physically healthy … exhibits signs of PTSD, though he has not been diagnosed, and may benefit from therapy post-adoption … will likely need substantial emotional support ... did not admit to any fetish as a motivator .. may have trouble adapting ... desires to NOT progress from initial stage of life … will likely match best with a female head of household looking to dote on her Little and who has a large support network …

Chapter 1 Tish held the pen in her hand. She was shaking and wasn't sure she would be able to sign the document in front of her. It was partly from fear and partly from anger. She still couldn't believe this was happening to her. She felt so alone but knew that there were millions of others facing the same thing. She looked down at the legal document in front of her. She had read through it twice but it didn't matter. At the bottom of the last page were spots for two signatures. On the left was a signature line labeled "Minor Person", waiting for her to sign. How could she be a minor person when she was 20 years old? Her birthday was in 4 days. This was rediculous. On the right was a second signature line labled "Sponsor/Adult" and that line had already been signed by her friend and roommate Jenn who was sitting next to her. Tish looked up at Jenn who was waiting for her to sign. Jenn gave her a reassuring look and nodded towardsd the paper, encouraging her to sign. All Tish could think about was how unfair this was. She and Jenn were practically the same age, yet they were in entirely different situations. Jenn was only a few months older than her and she was the 'adult'? If only she had been born a week early she could have escaped what was about to happen to her. She put that out of her mind and brought the pen down and awkardly signed the paper in front of her. "Thank you Tish. I know this is awkard for everyone but just know what you are doing here could save the human race.", The woman across the table took the signed documents, quickly reviewed them for accuracy and put them in a folder. "Uh huh, that's what they say.", Tish retorted. "Tish! Don't be one of those people. You know the science is clear on this. The whole world is doing their part in this. You should be taking this more seriously.", Jenn pleaded. "Want to switch places then?", Tish snapped back. "Jenn is right. You both need to take this seriously. The documents you signed today show your committment. Jenn, since you are acting as her sponsor and guardian with regard to the new laws, you will be held just as accountable as her to follow the rules and instructions." "We understand.", Jenn confidently replied while Tish folded her arms and looked down. "Tish, I we realize this is hard for you to accept. You just missed the age cutoff by a few days but there a lot of people going through the same thing. Frankly, I haven't seen anyone as reluctant or resitant to this as you. Jenn has spent a lot of her time going through the training necessary to be your sponsor. She has sacraficed a lot of her time and is taking on a big responsibility. You are lucky to have her. There are many people who aren't so lucky! People who don't have anyone close they can depend on. Those people have to depend on complete strangers, and it won't be easy for them, but we are all in this together. I guess what I'm saying is you are a lucky, and you should realize that. So I don't want to hear of any trouble from you two, ok?" Tish looked up at Emma and Jenn. She didn't want to seem ungrateful for what Jenn was doing for her but it didn't change the fact that all this seemed uncessary and unfair. She was so sick of hearing that we were "all in this together", everyone needs to "do their part" and all the other buzzwords and phrases the media and government pushed on everyone. She was sick of it. Anyone that spoke out against these new measures was deemed to be some sort of irrational selfish jerk. "No Emma, you won't. This is just such a strange thing going on for everyone. Everyone will come around I'm sure. And maybe it won't take long to find a cure or whatever. I'm pretty hopeful about that, but until then I'm sure we'll be fine once we get going and into the routine.", Jenn stated while massaging Tish's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "That is everyone's hope Jenn. Now if you don't mind, I've got about 50 more of these appointments today for the other stragglers. Please find your starter kit on the way out. It will be labeled with both of your names. Everything you need for your first week is included. Remember your training and everything will go smoothly. Remember, we have an appointment in 1 week from today, but remember that random inspections may happen at any time. Carry your ID with you at all times. Jenn, because you look young, you may be asked for proof of age. Tish of course won't have that problem. Good luck and I'll see you in a week." Tish and Jenn walked out of the office into a lobby full of people sitting and fidgeting awkwardly. All eyes were on them as if trying to seek out any information about how their meeting went. The room was full of different people of all ages. Guys, girls, children and their parents, friends, couples holding hands, and others. Tish wondered about all of the weird situations the new law would cause for people and their relationships. She wondered about her own relationship. Her boyfriend was 22, so he was immune to the restrictions. At first it made sense that he would be her sponsor but that option was quickly removed from the table. As the laws were being debated back and forth over the many months, some lawmakers got their way that there could be no opposite sex minor/sponsor relationships unless both parties were married or the person was a legal guardian. Of course, the government failed to take into account all sorts of other lifestyles, situations, exceptions etc. It was a typical bearucratic mess that you would expect. There were protests and speeches and marches, but in the end things move so fast that is how it ended up. No solution was perfect and no side of the argument got everything they wanted. The other fact was her boyfriend lived 45 minutes away which would also be inconvenient for other reasons. Luckily he was very supportive and said he would stand by her over the next year. Jenn found the box with their names on it and they loaded it into the car. The drive home was awkard. Jenn tried to make small talk and assure Tish everything was going to be ok. "You say that, but I'm the one having to go through this. I'm just really worried about John. He says he will stick by me." "He will. I've always like John, Tish." "I know but a whole year without sex? I just don't understand why we can't, you know, do other things. Why are they being so strict with all of it?" "Tish! We've talked about this before. You know why. The future of the human race is a stake. Even if you don't believe it or whatever, it's true!" "Yeah yeah, I know.. the science. But maybe we can sneak around somehow." "Tish, you know the rules. If you get caught.. Well, and...." "What?" "Umm, it's just that messing around is going to be pretty impossible for you." "Huh? Just what does that mean? Tell me!" "I'll explain everything in a bit ok? I'm really not supposed to tell you anything until we open the box later together." "Geez Jenn, like who is going to care. But whatever, you are always the rule follower." They arrived at their apartment in about 15 minutes and took the large box inside and set it on the floor. It was Sunday afternoon and they both had to work tomorrow, but they had a little time to relax before having to get ready for tomorrow or discuss the kit. They worked around the house for awhile, made dinner and opened a bottle of wine. When they were cleaning up dinner Jenn finally broke the ice. "Tish, it's time to go through the kit. There is a little worksheet we will have to do and things to discuss. We both have busy days tomorrow so we just have to do it and get it over with." Tish had noticed a slight change in Jenn's tone. Almost an suble aire of superiority or authority. She wondered if this was how it was going to feel for the next year. "I know.. I know I'm putting it off. I still can't believe this you know?" "I know.", Jenn took Tish's hand and squeezed it as she lead her over to the box. She knew a lot more about what was going to happen than Tish did. She had been through several training classes to become Tish's sponsor. For some reason they didn't want the minors, as they were called, knowing all the details. She knew right now all over the country people were about to do what they were doing. Open these boxes and have their lives changed. She knew people were probably live streaming it, blogging and posting things on the various social media sites. She tried to ignore the noise of all that and focus on what she could best do to support her friend through this. Jenn figured that after a couple of weeks the newness of all of it would wear off and people would just have to accept that this was the way of life for awhile and the world would adapt. Jenn handed Tish a pair of scissors. Tish slid the blade across the heavy tapes and the heavy cardboard box poped open. The scent of the air from inside the box hit her nose. It was unfamiliar to her but not unpleasant. She took a deep breath and peeled back the edges and looked in.

I’m new to writing so let me know what you think ☺️ Chapter 1 Jayne finds herself on an airplane, soaring high in the vast expanse of the sky. The sense of freedom and solitude envelops her as she is the only passenger on this plane. Soft, fluffy blankets surround her, swaddling her like dollops of whipped cream. The comforting embrace of the blankets brings her a profound sense of security and contentment. The blankets seem to stretch infinitely, taking up the entire plane, and Jayne feels as if she's floating on a cloud. As the plane ascends higher and higher, a delightful rush of butterflies flutters in her stomach, filling her with pure joy and exhilaration. The sensation of elevating in the sky, unburdened and weightless, is an experience she relishes. The enchanting melody of "Let it flow" by Spiritualized plays in the background, its gentle notes adding to the dreamlike atmosphere. With each passing moment, Jayne's heart dances to the rhythm of the song, amplifying the euphoria she feels. "Here it comes and then it goes And that feeling takes me home And I don't know where I'm goin' Let it flow" As the plane starts its descent, Jayne can't help but giggle with delight. The excitement of the downward shift fills her with a thrilling sensation. She feels as if she's on an adventure, descending into a world of pure bliss and ecstasy. The dream takes her to a place of complete release and surrender, where she lets go of all inhibitions and embraces the flow. Suddenly, Jayne is jolted awake by the song continuing from her alarm clock. "Let it flow..." Her heart still races with the remnants of the dream's euphoria. She realizes that her bladder is full, and she rushes to the bathroom. The relief she experiences as she uses the bathroom is similar to what she felt in her dream. Jayne, is a 30-year-old girl, free spirited, creative designer at a large gaming company. Slim and tone in posture, she has undergone a transformation in recent years, becoming more conscious of her health and well-being. This all thanks to her partner Ryan, who does marathon runs alongside his day job. Their one year relationship has been a catalyst for positive change, as she found herself motivated to adopt healthier habits. Long runs have become a regular part of Jayne's routine. She finds running to be relaxing. On the weekends she likes to unwind and make her runs a little more entertaining. This entertainment is fueled by vaping some of her favorite sativa weed. She enjoys the rush of endorphins and the melodic vibrations that flutter with each stride during her elevated run. In this headspace she is able to achieve not just a runner's high, but instead, the best of both worlds. The joy of running has become her therapy, allowing her to clear her mind and find solace in the rhythm of her feet hitting the ground. In addition to running, Jayne has embraced yoga as a way to balance her physical and mental well-being. She's discovered the transformative power of yoga, not only for its physical benefits but also for the sense of inner peace and mindfulness it brings to her life. Her wardrobe has also evolved to reflect her active lifestyle. Yoga pants have become a staple, not just for their comfort, but as a symbol of her commitment to a healthier and more balanced lifestyle. With Ryan away on an offsite project for the past six months, Jayne has found herself facing the challenges that typically come from a long-distance relationship. In the past, she had struggled with long distance relationships, but this time, she was determined to approach it differently. She knew that maintaining her fitness routine was more crucial than ever, as it not only kept her physically healthy but also helped her cope with the emotional distance between her and Ryan. Jayne has had to learn to trust and be patient, giving Ryan the space and understanding that he's immersed in his offsite project. The sporadic communication has made her anxious at times, but she's reminded herself that Ryan's dedication to his work was one of the things she admired about him. This past month, Jayne has struggled with feelings of uncertainty as Ryan has been really out of touch in communication. She has been trying to get herself to understand that the sporadic check-ins are likely due to his busy schedule, and she that she needs to trust in their relationship. Jayne's morning began like any other as she prepared for her remote workday from the comfort of her downtown apartment on the 33rd floor. Stretching and yawning, she embraced the tranquility of her living space with a sense of calm and purpose. Her cozy apartment was adorned with soft furnishings and elegant touches, creating a serene ambiance that inspired her creativity. After freshening up in the bathroom, Jayne made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Today, she was in the mood for a delicious omelette. But as she reached for the vegetables in her fridge, she realized she was out. Undeterred, Jayne decided to take a quick trip downstairs and a couple of blocks over to the morning farmers market. The prospect of getting fresh, organic vegetables excited her, and it was the perfect excuse to take a short break and savor the beauty of the city before diving into her work. Stepping outside her apartment building, Jayne felt the city's vibrant energy enveloping her. The sound of distant traffic and the chatter of people bustling about created a symphony of urban life. With a spring in her step, she strolled down the bustling streets towards the farmers market. As she reached the market, she was greeted by an array of colorful stalls, each offering a delightful selection of fruits and vegetables. The sights and scents of fresh produce invigorated her senses, and she relished the opportunity to engage with local vendors and support the community. Jayne carefully selected the ripest tomatoes, crisp bell peppers, and vibrant greens for her omelette. With her bag filled with the freshest ingredients, she made her way back to her apartment, feeling a sense of fulfillment and contentment. On her walk back to the apartment she decided to stop into her go-to pharmacy, Trust Pharnacy, which is convientally situated at ground floor of her apartment complex. She loves this pharmacy as it's always well stocked with her preferred zero-waste feminine products. This time around she notices that it's not only those products that are well stocked at this pharmacy. As she walked around, she found out that they moved her aisle to the back of the store and she had to traverse two different incontinence aisles. One of which looked like it was dedicated to single packaged adult diapers and the other for larger packages. As Jayne explored the back of the store, she noticed that her aisle had been moved to a more discreet location, hidden away from the main shopping area. She had to navigate through two different incontinence aisles to find her desired products. One aisle displayed single packaged adult diapers, while the other held larger packages. As Jayne approached her aisle, she couldn't help but notice a striking girl, who appeared to be around her age, refilling the diapers on the shelf. She notices the girl's posture and body form. Jayne is envious of how round and plump her ass is. Even after Jayne's rigorous squat routine for her workouts she has nothing on this employee's ass. This girl had a radiant smile, adorned with braces that Jayne found oddly attractive. Her name tag read "Aria" "Excuse me, could you help me get this pad brand?" Jayne asked. "Sure thing! Let me grab the..." Aria's reply was cut short by the store intercom broadcasting her number for clocking out. "I thought this time would never come. I can finally clock out" sighed Aria. She mentioned that she had worked overtime and was finally being relieved. "I'll be right back I have to get the right keys for this shelf" Aria said as she sped out of the aisle. Jayne found Aria's behavior peculiar as she hurriedly passed her, seemingly fidgety and eager to leave. It seemed that there was more to Aria's excitement than just the end of her shift, and Jayne couldn't help but be intrigued. Less than a minute later, Jayne hears footsteps advancing closer to her and sees Aria speed back into the aisle. Aria steps up on a short step stool and reaches for the flap to unlock the shelf and flips it up. "Is it this one?" Aria asked. "It's actually the one next to it that is almost out" replied Jayne. Aria seems to be bouncy in her posture. Since there was only one package of the pads left, Aria had to go on her tipy toes to reach for it. Jayne notices that she is bouncing her heals on the stool like she is jump roping without lifting her feetoff the ground. Suddenly an "ahhhhh" sigh softly exits Aria's lips. There is a sudden pause as Aria freezes with her arms deep in the shelf. After about 5 seconds of being frozen, Aria carefully steps down the stool and hands Jayne the pads. Aria looks at Jayne with a spacey gaze says "Here you go, have a good rest of your day!" Jayne sees Aria take off her apron and walk down the hallway very calmly towards the back room. Jayne couldn't help but observe Aria's movements as she walked towards the backroom to clock out. There was a subtle waddle in her step that Jayne found strangely cute. She tried not to stare, but her eyes were drawn to the oddly placed wet patch on Aria's butt. She notices Aria discreetly reach her hand out to grab something when passing through the aisle. The checker at the front scanned her pads and looked up at Jayne "I take it you must have met Aria, hehehe she is quite the free spirit!" Jayne nervously chuckled as she grabbed the bag and headed home to go make breakfast. As she cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them with care, she couldn't help but admire the panoramic view of the city through her large windows. The morning sun painted the skyline with warm hues, casting a golden glow on the bustling streets below. Jayne sautéed the vegetables with a hint of olive oil, savoring the aroma that filled her home. She expertly folded the omelette, creating a masterpiece of flavors and colors. As Jayne sat at the breakfast table, her mind couldn't help but replay the peculular encounter with Aria, the employee at the store. The puzzle pieces of Aria's behavior seemed to fit together in her mind, and a thrilling realization washed over her. The fidgety behavior, the sudden shift in composure, the weird wet patch on her butt, what she reached for in the aisle... it all pointed to one possibility...Aria wears diapers! But she not only wears them, she uses them. Aria was flooding her diaper while helping Jayne and it had leaked! Jayne changed topics in her head as she noticed it was 8:45 and she had to hurry to finish her morning tasks before the work day. Jayne logged in for the work but throughout her day her mind was racing. She found herself imagining Aria wearing a diaper, feeling the same sensations that had brought her pleasure in her dream. The day went by...Jayne had a typical work day, half virtual calls and half the other time to actually get her work done. Jayne logs off of work a little bit after 5pm. Her phone rings, and she notices that the number shares the same area code as Ryan's work phone. Curiosity mixed with a sense of unease, as she answers the call. It's not Ryan but instead a woman's voice on the phone.

This was a story I wrote back in 2022 as a gift to someone, I decided to re upload it here. I hope someone here enjoys it! ----------------------------------------------- Girl's Day Out The two figures of Rose Lalonde and Jane Crocker sat silently in their respective stroller seats. They didn’t say anything because of course they couldn’t. They both had their pacifier gags in their mouths. Although their legs and arms were already strapped to the sides of the large baby stroller, The looming figure of the Condesce leaned over them to strap seat-belts over their bodies. “Now, isn’t that betta?” She said. “Not gunna be getting no trouble from you two anymoray!”. She explained. The woman couldn’t do anything but squirm, glaring up at their captor, resenting every moment of this while the troll on the other hand was relishing every moment. Rose and Jane wore matching outfits, bows in their short cut hair, purple and blue onesies along with fuzzy gloves an booties that made their hands and feet practically useless. Around their necks were bibs that caught whatever drool that might have come from their mouths. The most damning feature about the pair was the thick crinkly padding around each of their waists. They both wore large thick diapers that fit tightly around their waists, spreading their legs and making it impossible for them to close their legs. Jane gave an undignified moan through her pacifier gag as the troll placed the seat-belt across her waist. “Now don’t be whining or I’ll make ya something to whine about!”. The Condesce said as she held up a small remote, flicking it on. Each of them had a vibrator bullet pressed up to each side of their crotches, not directly on their private parts but just close enough for them to feel every sensation from the toys and have them driving up the wall. Jane and Rose both gave out respective groans upon feeling the vibrators start up. “That should carp you two quiet for a while!”. The Condesce said with a cackle, watching the two girl’s face’s flush red from the sensation. The walked away and returned to with large bottles of milk. “Now, let’s get ya both proper filled up!”. She said. When she said “Proper filled up”. She really meant it as well. Starting with Jane who she seemed to have more of an affinity for- she took turns feeding the human’s bottles of milk, removing their pacifier gags and holding the nipple in their mouths until every last drop of the liquid was down their throats. Rose felt that her stomach was full, but was forced to drink the entire bottle, giving a few little series of coughs when she was done, and spitting milk up onto her bib as she did so. “Please no more m-MHMMHPM!”. She would say before the pacifier gag was unceremoniously placed back into her mouth. The Condesce gave a tutting sound as she waved her finger. “That’s not how good little babies speak to their mothers!”. She said, flipping the switch of the vibrator on once more. Jane tried to squeeze her legs together upon feeling the motion of the toys inside her diaper. It was safe to say that if one of them even thought of acting up or saying anything out of line, then the other girl would feel the repercussions of their actions together. “Now, what say I take you boat on a nice stroll through town huh?”. She asked the pair, not waiting for a response. The two humans couldn’t do anything as they were strolled down a busy street, blushing every time a troll would pass them. Some would make embarrassing and downright degrading comments, sometimes right to their face. But no matter how much they hated it, they knew that any complaining from either of them would face punishment. “You betta be getting use to this little ones, because we are going to be doing this for a long time!”. The Condesce said to them, stopping the stroller in front of what looked like an alien shop. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back!”. She gave a cackle as she entered the building, leaving Rose and Jane alone. Both of them gave a gasp almost instantly as they felt the vibrators start up again on the inside of their thighs. “Oh, almost forgot!”. The troll would be heard saying as her footsteps once again disappeared. Rose closed her eyes, her face and neck going bright red as she felt the pressure from the vibrators on her crotch. She didn’t know if the Condesce would be able to hear her or not, but she kept as quiet as she possibly could, only small gasps and whimpers escaping her mouth. Jane on the other hand was very noisy, squirming in her seat, and moaning and making lots of noises through her own pacifier gag. She squeezed her legs together, the crinkling of the diaper only contributing to the noise and feeling of the vibrator. Of course this spectacle wouldn’t go unnoticed by anyone walking past and soon a small crowd would form around the two humans in the crib. Rose tried to ignore the feeling of all those yellow alien eyes watching her, but it was very hard when people were constantly reaching to touch you. “Ah, I see you met my babies?”. The voice of the Condesce would be heard again as the pair would feel the handles of the stroller being taken once again. The small crowd all cooing and started taking pictures of the pair. Rose and Jade would feel the prying eyes and hands on their bodies, rubbing their stomach and hair as well as their diapers. This only caused further embarrassment to them both, Rose jerking her head away from the hands on her body. “Now, behave your two!”. The Condesce told them, turning up the vibrators up another notch. Jane let out a muffled staggered moan, her body stiffing up as she would be the first to orgasm in her diaper. Rose’s eyes widen as she squirmed in her seat, leaning her body away from Jane. The girl’s head flipped up and her face went bright red as her chest heaved up a down. Rose squeezed her legs together as well as she felt pleasure run through her own body. Soon joining Jane as she would orgasm in her own diaper, cute stifled noises and moans coming from her mouth. The Condesce smiled down at them. “I think ya’ both had a big enough day, let’s get you back home”. She said, pushing them down the street and back to were she came from. The pair were both exhausted from the result of the toys, the humiliation, and the length of the day. Soon Rose found her eyes fluttering as she begin to drift off to sleep. She woke up a while later, not sure how much later but she found herself still in the stroller. The sudden pang from her bladder was what jolted her fully awake. She squirmed in her seat, looking over at the face of the Condesce. “Aww, does someone need to go?”. She said, reaching down to press on Rose’s crotch. “Don’t worry. Let it allll out!”. She said, encouraging her. Of course once her bladder was pressed on so suddenly she couldn’t help herself and the entirety of what she had been drinking earlier emptied out into her diaper, a faint hissing sound the only thing that was heard for a solid minute as she felt the padding sag and swell up around her waist. All she could do was close her eyes, waiting for it to be over. Then to the Condesce's delight, Jane let out a muffled noise of her own, hearing the same noise coming from her as she would join Rose in wetting her diapers. Soon they would both be completely soaking the padding around their waists. Their diapers now stained a light shade of yellow. “Good job girls!” The Condesce commented, giving each of their diapers a squeeze, the padding making a respective sloshing sound. “But, you know I won’t change you until you both completely use them!”. She said, pushing the stroller across a busy street. Both of the humans looked at each other, sucking on their pacifier gags in worry and in reflex. Jane's stomach gave a gurgling noise which cause the troll to smile widely, unzipping the diaper bag she had with her just in case. It was going to be a long day and she knew it. ----------------------------------------------- Let me know if I should do a follow up to, or continue this story, any ideas or feedback would be appreciated!

So this is my first time, trying to write any kind of story revolving around ABDL and also one of the first time I've ever tried sticking my nose into creative writing at all. This is basically a preview. I would like some feedback on my writing style and also if this is an "story idea and concept" that people would like to see me put some time and effort into. To zero and back Chapter 0: ” You GOT to be joking!” My mother stared back at me with a dumbfound look on her face. “You can’t be serious, about such an idea!?” Her eyes didn’t flinch, as she just stared right at me, with a blank expression. “Mom, seriously, it’s a great idea and it’s NEVER been done before. And the people at the magazine already signed off on it. They think its brilliant! This could be my big break!” I could easily tell, that my attempts at convincing her, had little to no effect. “So let me get this straight.” Taking a zip of her coffee, she learned forward in the couch, staring even harder at me, from the other side of the living room table. “The biggest child and parent’s magazine in the country, “Mommy Mag” has agreed for you to write a parenting guide on potty-training, by first unpotty-training yourself and then training yourself again, alongside your baby cousin!? And how long did they give you to write this article?” “Two years.” I mumbled, trying to break free of her locked stare. “So what, one year to unlearn everything and then when your cousin turns three, you got one year to learn everything again alongside him and write this damn thing!?”. “Pretty much.” Her eyes did not flinch, she had barely blinked since the conversation started. “And what does the deal include.” She took another sip of her coffee. This was my shot, my one opening to sell her on the idea. “They have agreed to take care of all expenses, WHATEVER that may include, also I would be under full time contract the full 2 years, but will not have to meet into the office to work on the article. And Mom, the salary is great and when the 2 years are up, if the article gets printed, I’m guaranteed to have my contract renewed and is free to work on whatever I feel like afterward. It’s a great deal and I really think this could be my big shot, at making it in the business.” That last part wasn’t a lie, I truly did believe that this could be my chance of making it big in the journalism business. Ever since getting my degree almost a year ago, nothing had really gone my way and 12 months after finishing school, I was still living at home with my mom and had, little to no luck at getting my foot in the door anywhere. That was one of the reasons of this project of my, but there was another, one that nobody and especially my mom needed to know about. I’m an ABDL which stands for adultbaby diaper lover, it’s a kind of fetish that has its roots in ageplay and regression often revolving around wearing and using diapers. So basically being able to wear and use diapers and combine it with my work, which may lead to something bigger, while getting PAID to do so, was the ultimate dream come true. But first, I had to convince my mother, since I was living under her roof and this would come to affect her day and life. “And what does your aunt Karen and uncle Rob think of this?” “They are pretty cool with it, I’ve already ran the idea by them and it’s not like it’s really going to affect them. Especially not until cousin Jack turns two and then it’s still limited how big a part of it, he and they are going to play. I’m the test subject, Jack is only playing the role of control test, so I’ll have some routines to follow, while training myself back up.” She took another zip of her coffee cup, still looking skeptical, but her stare had lightened. “I still can’t believe, that my sister agreed to this.” She exhaled deeply. “And how exactly are you planning on….UNtraining yourself?”. “Well...” I hesitated for a second. “I’ve been reading a lot about it on the internet, there are actually a lot of information on the subject, believe it or not. In reality, it’s like un-training any other muscle and there’s also hypnosis and stuff, that should help with the process.” She continued to stare into her cup, not giving me a second look as she spoke. “Well Patrick, you’ve seem to have already made up your mind. And you’re an adult, it’s not like I can stop you and you seem to have done your research. If this is want you think you NEED to do, to get your career going and if you promise to take good care of yourself.” My eyes lit up, as she looked back up at me. “Then go for it,” JACKPOT! Chapter 1: After a rather quiet, but especially awkward dinner, I found myself sitting in front of my laptop, armed with my company credit card and ready to begin my project. Seeking out diapers was my first priority, it didn’t take me long to find a local site that sold incontinent product and offered express shipping. I ordered a case of plain white adult diapers, in medium thickness and capacity and continued on to the second target on my “to do list”. I had been looking at hypnotic ABDL files for a while. Most of them seemed too good to be true, offering complete incontinent and mental regression. But at one point I stumbled upon a webpage that didn’t promise too much and actually sported some great review of their files. One file offered help to induce urinary incontinent, making the listener more open to the thought of becoming less bladder control aware and accepting this fact. Another offered the same but included bowel incontinence. But the one I had my eyes on, offered both of these, plus included ties to mental regression and acceptance. Linking the thought of becoming incontinent, with the thought of being a toddler or infant. Mentioning allowing the user to not be embarrassed by the idea of wearing and using diapers, because that is what babies would do and making “giving up control” easier, as this train of thought and connection between the two grew stronger. That was all I needed to read and within seconds the file was ordered and arrived in my email inbox. That would be all, I would need for now and I put my trusted company card away and decided to call it a night. But not before transferring the hypnotic file to my phone, so I could listen to it while I slept. Laying in my bed, I plugged my headset in and played the file, which sadly turned out to be a disappointment. The field proved to be some sort of subliminal message, just a random mix of radio scatter and sounds bites. The only noticeable feature, was a faint sound of a nursery lullaby appearing from time to time. But still I found the simple thought of the promised effect and what awaited me in the near future arousing and jacked myself to a major orgasm, before falling asleep, the file still playing in my ears. I woke up the next morning refreshed and excited. Luckily Mom had left for work, when I got up so awkward encounter ruined the morning as I had breakfast and started my day. I did not achieve a lot that day, as I constantly found myself checking the driveway waiting for the delivery of my diaper order. But I did manager to kill some time in front of my laptop and after much thought came up with a name for my article. “To zero and back” I said to myself as a wrote the headline on the word document. That name seemed fitting, as I would be going back to zero potty training and then back again afterwards. The mere thought of that, got me excited. Finally, the doorbell sounded and I sprang across the house. Opening the door, I was greeted by a UPS driver, holding a large cardboard box in his arms. Quickly signing for the order and sending him on his way, I ran back across the house and into my room, throwing the box onto my bed before ripping it open. Inside I found exactly what I ordered. A shipment of plain white diapers, enough to surely last me a while. At least in the beginning. Now came the part I had been waiting for. Time to put on, what hopefully was my first of many diapers for a long time. I ripped one of the diapers out of the box and sniffed it. No apparent smell hit, to my disappointment, so I quickly continued to open the diaper and spread it out on my before, taking a second to admire it, before slowly unbuttoning my jeans and letting them drop down around my ankles, before stepping out of them. Next I removed my underwear, realizing this may be the last time in a while, that I wore such a pair of boxerbriefs. I turned around and placed my bum on the diaper, it felt thinner than expected, but still the feeling of the soft padding, sent chills down my spine, as I laid back and put the front up between my legs. Next came the tapes, which proved to be quite a challenge, as each side sported 2 pieces of sticky material. It took a lot of fiddling and several on and off attempts but finally I had all four pieces of tape attached and the diaper secured around my waist. After standing up and walking over to my bedroom mirror to inspect myself, it became clear that “secured” may have been an overstatement. The diapers were hanging rather loose and slightly crocket around my hips. It took 5 more minutes of fiddling and opening and reapplying the tapes, before I ended up with a semi acceptable result. There I stood, dressed in nothing but my t-shirt and a crinkly white diaper. This was a dream come true, but the dream quickly ended as I heard the front door open and my Mom enter the house. I panicked and quickly ran to pick up my pants, we may have had the talk and this may be a dream come true, but I was nowhere near ready to let my Mom see me, in just a diaper. The pants proved to be a challenge to put on, the diaper was thicker than expected and it took quiet a lot of effort to force my pants up and over the diaper, but I managed to close them around my waist and went to greet my Mom. As I entered the kitchen to meet her, I became aware of the crinkle that followed my every step, as a result of the diaper moving around my hips. I slowed my movement, careful not to walk to fast, as a mean to dampen the noise of my new underwear. “Oh there you are, so how has your day been?” My Mom was busy unpacking the groceries as I entered. “Fine I guess, I’ve got a bit of writing done and I even came up with a title for my article.” I picked up a grocery bag from the table and start unloading it into the cabinet. My Mom stood quiet for a moment, staring down at me, as I was kneeling in front of the cabinet. “So, how does it feel?”. I looked up at her with a confused look. “What do you mean?” I folded up the bag and stood back up. “How does it feel being back in diapers?” My mouth dropped for a second. “How did you know?” My response triggered a chuckle from her. “It pretty hard not to notice, that crinkle is pretty hard to ignore, also its peaking up from the back of your pants when you squat down and when you entered, you were waddling almost like a toddler trying to hide it.” She continued to chuckle, as she put the bags away. “Guess it’s something we both have to get used to. It’s not like you can sneak around for the next 2 years, trying to hide it.” At this point my face was burning bright red, this was one of the things I hadn’t thought about, but she was right. I spent the next few hours “hiding” in my room, trying to avoid awkward diaper contact with my Mom, until the time came for my bladder to declare itself “full”. “This is it.” I mumbled to myself, as I stood up from my desk. Standing in the center of my room, I closed my eyes and relaxed my body. Nothing. I took a deep breath, exhaled and relaxed. Again, nothing. This was proving to be quite a challenge, and this whole untraining concept, may be harder than expected. Once again I took a deep breath, held it, exhaled and FINALLY. I felt a warm flow spread around my crotch, as the diaper flooded and consumed the urine flowing from my body. The warmth continued to spread across the front of the diaper, slowly making its way towards the back and… DOWN MY LEG!? I opened my eyes, just in time to catch the first drops of liquid, roll my thigh and onto the floor. “SHIT!” I mumbled loudly. The flow of urine stopped, but it was clear that my diaper had leaked and I had managed to make a mess on the floor. “Guess I didn’t do such a good job after all.” I thought, as I stood there contemplating my situation. I quickly made my way to the bathroom. First to rip off the “failed” diaper and wash myself off with a cloth, before grapping a roll of paper and run back to my room for a quick clean up. With the mess taken care off, I dropped the used diaper in the bathroom waste bin and soon found myself back in my room, fresh diaper in hand and ready to give it another try. Once again I placed the diaper on my bed and started placing it around my hips. AND once again I found myself having to fiddle with the tapes for several minutes, applying and reapplying them, before I ended up with an acceptable result. At this time, Mom was yelling that dinner was ready, so I threw my pants back on and slowly snuck my way to join her. Nothing particular happened for the rest of the night, as we both tried avoiding starting any awkward conversation during dinner, before I quickly snuck my way back to the safety of my room, where I spent the rest of the night, until it was time for bed. Laying in my bed that night, the hypnotic file playing through my headset. I quickly discovered that falling asleep wearing my new underwear would prove to be a challenge. The extra padding between my legs, made laying on my side rather difficult, not to mention the loud crinkle that followed my every movement and the extreme heat that was generated around my groin. But finally after much tossing and turning, I drifted off to sleep. 1 day down, 729 to go.

It's been a long time since I tried any creative writing but thought I would give it a go, appreciate any comments / feedback on what I have written so far. The ABDL part doesn't start to show itself until chapter 2. The image doesn't quite capture the story but I can't draw so was just trying to get something from an AI that somewhat fitted the story. Chapter 1 - Welcome to ARC As Michael surveyed his surroundings, he began to think this might not be such a nightmare after all. It had all started a month ago, on a rainy Saturday morning. A hungover Michael had been lying in bed going through his emails, he came across something entirely out of the ordinary. An email from ARC Education notified Michael that he failed to turn up for an exam five years ago while studying for his undergraduate degree. It went on to state that because of this, he did not have enough credits for his degree, which was now considered null and void, and that he should contact ARC Immediately. Michael's heart hammered against his ribs as he stared at the email. His hands trembled as he scrolled back and forth, rereading the message that threatened to unravel his entire life. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios: losing his job, facing humiliation, and being labeled a fraud. Each possibility felt like a crushing weight on his chest, suffocating him with dread. He paced back and forth in his dimly lit bedroom, his thoughts spiraling into a chaotic whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. He needed to talk to someone to make sense of this nightmare before it consumed him entirely. Luckily, Amanda picked up the phone on the second attempt. "Michael?" Amanda's voice crackled through the phone, bearing the remnants of a night that seemed to have treated her as unkindly as it had him. Michael rushed to unload the contents of the email to her, his words tumbling over each other in haste. But before he could finish, Amanda's voice sliced through the air with a sharpness that snapped him to attention. "Michael," she said firmly, "it seems like you may have had too much to drink last night and are mistaking a dream for reality. Rest, and we can discuss it again in a few hours." "It's not a dream," Michael insisted before Amanda could disconnect the call. "I'm forwarding you the email right now." Amanda fell into a thoughtful silence as she perused the email. When she finally spoke again, her tone had softened, laced now with concern. "This seems too coherent to be spam." Michael held his breath, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. "I don't recall you ever missing an exam," Amanda mused, her words slow and deliberate. "But considering we didn't share all the same classes and had a knack for skipping lectures, it's plausible." She paused and exhaled heavily. "Like I said before, it sounds like a bad dream, but maybe this does happen from time to time, and that's where people get the idea from," she said. Amanda paused again and then took a deep breath, her voice now confident. "But you would never have graduated if you had missed an exam, and the university would inform you directly if there were some kind of issue." All the anxiety seemed to lift from Michael as he heard these words: "So you're saying I can ignore this?" "Well," Amanda said, concern returning to her tone. “There wouldn't be any harm in getting in touch with the University to be sure; if there is anything to this, they would have had to be the ones to inform this other company." The dread returned to Michael, but Amanda's plan was sensible. He made her promise to keep this to herself before wishing her luck with her hangover and hanging up to call the University. Michael found the University's website, which he noted had changed dramatically since he had last seen it, and rang the examination office. Given that it was the weekend, he was surprised that someone picked up the phone, but after the third time being put on hold, his fears were confirmed. The examination office stated that while reviewing their records, they had come across a missing examination grade, and after an internal investigation, they had been forced to invalidate his grade. However, they decided to pass the situation on to ARC, a private research company that may be able to resolve the issue. Any lingering hangover Michael had was now well and truly gone. He only felt panic and wanted nothing more than to find a place to hide and forget this was happening. So it surprised Michael when he found he had typed in the number for ARC on his phone and hit the call button. ———— An hour later, Michaels mood couldn't have been more different from when he had first opened the email despite the fundamental situation remaining unchanged. The lady on the other end of the phone understood his situation. She had been quick to point out that it was the University's mistake as well, given that they had awarded him the degree. It was in everyone's interest to resolve the situation quickly and discreetly. She presented Michael with two options: the first was to spend a semester back at the University, retake the module, and then sit the exam he had missed with the other students. The second option was that ARC, a research organization, would use its resources to put him on a two-week sprint program to cover the material and exam at its expense in exchange for Michael's assistance with its research on memory. Option one wasn't an option at all for Michael. It would mean stepping away from his life and job, adding to his already immense student debt and the embarrassment of everyone knowing his situation. While the lady on the phone had recommended he take a few days to think about it, Michael accepted option two immediately. He knew he would have no issue getting the time off work; his boss had been encouraging everyone on the team to take a vacation while the office was quiet anyway. Most importantly, this meant that nobody would find out what had happened. Michael called Amanda back later in the day to tell her it had all been a scam and there was nothing to worry about, to which she was greatly relieved (clearly, she hadn't been able to convince herself that Michael hadn't been foolish enough to miss an exam). Over the next month, Michael had a few conversations with the lady from ARC. She explained that he would live at their state-of-the-art headquarters during the program, with all meals and amenities covered by the company. Then, after he had signed several confidentiality agreements, the nature of the research was also outlined to him, and it seemed genuinely exciting. So, as Michael stood in the ARC lobby, he was almost looking forward to the two weeks ahead. The lady from ARC (who it turned out was called Rachel) met him at reception, gave him his schedule for the next few days, and then took him on a tour of the facility. Monday Morning: Orientation Afternoon: ARC. Research Tuesday Morning: Lesson 1 Afternoon: ARC. Research Wednesday Morning: Lesson 2 Afternoon: Practise Assignment Chapter 2 - Memories? When Michael first heard Rachel's voice on the phone, he assumed she was much older than him due to her smooth, caring tone. She also exhibited a high level of intelligence that suggested she had been working in her research field for a lifetime. However, Michael couldn't have been more mistaken. Rachel was around the same age as him, dressed professionally in a black suit, with her long blond hair tied up in a ponytail. Rachel took Michael on a tour of the facility and he was amazed that not only did she know everyone by name, she was also just as knowledgeable about their research as her own. Her small ideas always brightened the mood of her colleagues, leaving them excited to try something new. The headquarters itself was unlike anything Michael had ever seen before. Rachel began by taking him to the room he would stay in, which was much bigger than his apartment. It featured a king-size bed, a huge TV, and a separate office for his studies. Following this, Rachel showed him around some of the workstations, where almost all the walls were made of glass panels, except for a few offices that senior management used for confidential meetings. This design made everything feel more light and open. All the computers looked brand new, with some workstations featuring VR headsets and access to supercomputers for complex processing. It was a lot to take in, but the best part was when Rachel led him into what she called the canteen. Canteen certainly wasn't the word Michael would use; the place was set out like a fancy restaurant, with a few of Rachel's colleagues already seated and eating anything from steak to Lobster. Michael was new to such high-quality food, so he ordered as much as he thought would be polite. Still, he couldn't help but think about returning later by himself to indulge in every dish the place had to offer. After treating himself to a second dessert, Michael was taken to the research area, his home, for the next few weeks. This room was simple and plain, unlike the glass-encased offices he had seen earlier. The walls were white, with little to no distractions, except for a large window that revealed a computer-filled room. The centre of the room had a solitary chair that reminded Michael of a dentists chair, with its frame entwined with cables that disappeared into the adjacent room through the window. Rachel led Michael towards the chair and began running through what they had already discussed on the phone. ARC had been working on state-of-the-art technology that allowed people to experience their memories as though they were happening to them again. She explained that it was similar to seeing a memory in a dream. They hoped that one day, anyone could relive any memory they wanted at the touch of a button, but there was much more research to do before they got to that stage. Because Michael couldn't remember missing an exam, he would also be a test case to see if they could locate missing memories in a person. This might mean that, eventually, the technology could help people with Amnesia. Rachel left the room after getting Michael seated and attaching some cables to his temples. She reappeared in the adjoining room dressed in a lab coat alongside another younger-looking colleague. "Michael, this is Luke. He is going to be helping me out for the next two weeks. It's his first day here, a bit like you I guess, so you will both be learning more about our research as we go along." Luke was younger than Michael and looked like he had just graduated from school. Having only spoken to Rachel about the research, Michael was a little uncomfortable with having someone else there. Then he then remembered the creme brûlée he had just eaten and realized a little discomfort was worth the price. "Well, we have a lot to cover, so let's get started," Rachel said. "Today, we'll mostly be calibrating the machine with you, Michael. If you could start by closing your eyes, we'll dim the lights and begin." Michael closed his eyes as the room darkened, and Rachel's voice returned to the room before he could think about what was to come. "To calibrate the machine, we need to give it a spectrum of your memories. We like to keep it simple, so first, let's try your most recent memory, and then we can try your oldest memory to see how they compare. "So, for your most recent memory, all I need you to do is picture yourself walking into the room with me and sitting in the chair." Michael was surprised at what Rachel had asked him to do. He knew nothing about how this would work but he had expected a lengthy induction process, potentially even hypnosis, to get him into a specific state of mind to experience his memories. He began to consider whether the research was anything more than a fantasy of Rachel's and not the miracle she had discussed. But he trusted Rachel and was there to do a job, so he decided to see what would happen if he thought of himself simply walking into the room. Immediately, there was a flash of blinding white light and a slight pinch coming from whatever had been attached to the side of his temples. When the light faded, Michael found himself being led back into the room by Rachel, just as he had done a few moments before. He was back viewing the world from his former self's perspective. He realized he couldn't control his limbs or even choose where to look. It was like he was a second version of himself watching the original version play out a scene. He could focus on certain parts of the memory, the way Rachel's hair moved as she led him towards the chair or the taste of dessert still lingering in his mouth. Part of him had expected to be able to freeze the memory in place if he focused hard enough, but events played out just as they had. As Michael looked to see Rachel and Luke enter the other room, the blinding white light returned. When it faded, Michael was back in the room. "Is that really how my hair looks from the back?" Rachel's said, sounding alarmed. "You can see that!" Michael exclaimed, turning to face Rachel and Luke, who were removing what looked like VR headsets and placing them on the table. 'Well, it's not quite as vivid for us as it is for you, but yeah, we can see what you see, and the computers even give us some readouts to indicate how you are feeling". "Can you look at all of my memories with that thing?" Michael asked, suddenly fearful of what they might be able to see. Rachel reassured him, "No, we can only see the memory you are focusing on at that time. And if you are worried about confidentiality, don't be. I signed the same confidentiality agreements as you did." Michael wasn't entirely reassured, but he started to think about everything this technology could do. He could live out the highlights of his life whenever he wanted, even revisit conversations with relatives who had passed away. On top of that, it wouldn't matter that he lived in a small apartment if he could relive the memory of himself lying on a beach in Thailand whenever he wanted. Rachel's voice once again brought Michael back from his thoughts. "Now Michael, that first one was simple, partly because it was so recent and partly because I was there so I recognized what was happening. If you remember, I said we need to calibrate the machine, so now we need to look at your first memory, which may be much more difficult. Can you describe your first real memory for me?" Michael started explaining a time when he was four and had fallen off a swing at the park. He had half expected to see the flash of white light and be there when Rachel began speaking. "If I am being honest, Michael, that sounds like what someone has told you happened rather than an actual memory of your own. Can you try to think of your first actual memory for me?" While he was annoyed at being told his memory wasn't his, he had to admit that he couldn't remember how it had felt to fall off the swing, and there had been a picture of him at the park at his parent's house growing up. He spent a few minutes racking his brain before saying, "Well, I am not sure it's the sort of thing you're looking for, but I have a small flash of a memory of being sat on the carpet at school while the teacher read a book to us, I was probably about seven." "That sounds perfect. Now, all you need to do is close your eyes and concentrate on what you remember, be it the feel of the carpet beneath you or the sound of your teacher's voice." Michael did as he was told, and after a few moments, there was a flash of light and a jolt at his temples. This time, when the light faded, Michael was genuinely amazed. He was inside a much smaller version of himself looking up at his teacher, Mrs Stone, a woman he hadn't thought about in nearly twenty years, yet there she was. She looked about the same age as Michael was now (yet the younger brain he was currently inhabiting thought of her as old), with her long, messy brown hair and oversized glasses. She was reading to the class, and Michael suddenly realized how safe he felt sitting there and the awe at the story. He wanted nothing more than to listen to what would happen to the brave mouse Mrs Stone was telling them about, but the adult Michael was also busy trying to take in the memory and his surroundings. He was sitting on an old grey carpet with his legs crossed, wearing his school uniform—a polo shirt and shorts—like all the other boys. The walls were decorated with brightly colored pieces of work that he and his classmates had worked so hard on. The room was filled with small tables and chairs that were made for someone of his size. At the back of the room, he could see his beloved backpack, which was a brilliant shade of blue with a giant dinosaur embossed on it. He felt a sense of pride wash over him at the sight of the backpack. The dinosaur on it was the biggest one he knew of, a T-Rex. Before he could take it all in, he was once again presented with the white flash and returned to the present, completely stunned by what he had seen. "Holy Shit," Michael exclaimed. "Did you see that? It was like I was seven years old again?" Rachel still seemed to have the headset on and offered no immediate response. Unlike before, the pinching at his temples continued even after leaving the memory. He started to reach up to see if he could adjust them when Rachel finally spoke. "Unfortunately, that didn't seem to work quite so well on our end," her voice not filled with the same excitement as before. "I think we saw a bit of the classroom, but everything was so blurry I couldn't make anything out." "As I said, the older memories are more difficult, but they are important to ensure we can calibrate the system. Please stay where you are and give us a few more minutes while we make some adjustments. Then, let's try it again." Michael wanted to mention the painful sensation, but Rachel had said to stay put, and it wasn't so bad anyway. After a few minutes, Rachel invited him to try again and warned him there might be a bit more pain this time as the system needed to work harder to ensure they could access the older memories. Michael once again closed his eyes, and after a few moments, a white light and a significant amount of pain in his temples, he was back in the classroom. While the memory appeared the same as it had before, as Michael looked toward his teacher, he could still feel a slight pain inside his tiny head. He listened to his teacher before taking in the room around him as he had done before. The boys were all dressed in polo shirts and shorts, and the girls in dresses with checked patterns. He looked down to admire his uniform. The school dress wasn't his favorite, but at least it was comfortable, much like his diaper which he felt rustling between his legs. Again, his eyes looked around the room at the various creations he and his classmates had made before coming to rest on his beloved backpack. It was easy to make out from the small pile at the back of the room. It was the perfect shade of pink with the image of the most beautiful princess wearing a white dress on the front. He began to look back towards the teacher as she continued her story as the white light flashed. This time the light seemed to linger for much longer, but he couldn't tell if it had been a few seconds or a few minutes. When his senses returned Michael jumped out of the seat, the device attached to him falling away as he did and turned towards Rachel, who was still taking off her headset. "Did you see that?" he said with a mixture of panic and embarrassment. Rachel saw Michaels's panic but looked confused. "Yes, we saw it," she said, "and it worked perfectly that time. Was there a problem on your side?" "The problem is that," Michael began, but he couldn't think what he would say. "Oh," Rachel said, shaking her head as though she finally understood something obvious. If you're embarrassed at what you wore to school that day, don't be. Believe me, I have seen so many early memories, and most boys want to see what it's like to wear a dress one day, and most girls want to dress up like a boy for a day. And if it's the other thing, then remember, kids of all ages have trouble with that stuff and relapse from time to time. Michael was partially reassured, but something still felt very strange. He knew the memory was his; it was his earliest real memory, but he had never understood why he had worn a dress to school that day or what accident had led to him needing to wear a diaper. Rachel didn't seem impacted by what she saw. "Well, I think that was a great success," she chirped. "I am sure you would like to do some more. I know I would love to keep going, but it's day one, and it's important we don't push ourselves too hard here. After all, you are not just here to help us with this; you must study tomorrow." Chapter 3 - ARC As Michael left the room, Luke turned to Rachel, who had begun rapidly typing up notes from their session. Luke had recently graduated with an MBA in psychology, specializing in the workings of human memory. Despite this and having been extensively briefed on the work being done at the facility, he was astonished by what he had just witnessed. With barely any work, they had successfully rewritten a person's memory, with the subject being none the wiser. "Impressive, isn't it," Rachel said, looking up from her note-taking. "We didn't create any brand new memories today, but two out of three isn't bad." The three Rachel referred to were the foundations of what she was creating. The machine could alter existing memories and make brand-new ones. This was the A and the C in ARC, addition and change, the ordering of the letters didn’t make logical sense, but someone in corporate clearly thought it sounded cool. Alongside changing Michaels memory, Rachel had run a process called reverberation. Reverberation allowed the mind to re-process any new or altered memories so the patient would accept them. If, for example, someone's memory was changed so that their first memory of their first car was green instead of black, their subsequent memories would be altered to accept this and so they always thought of the car as green. Having gone back to such an early memory showed how far the system had come. From Luke's reading, when the first tests had been done, it was almost impossible for the mind to accept anything from more than a few months prior, as the impact on other memories would cause too much of a disconnect for the participant. This was Rachel’s masterpiece and while the potential of the technology filled Luke with wonder, it also filled him with fear. Changing one persons memories for science was one thing, but if everyone on earth had a headset to view their memories and a corporation (or a government) had the capability to make changes to those memories, the implications were potentially disastrous. "How much will his memories change? Will he think he always wore a dress and a diaper to school?" Luke asked, his understanding of the process still in its infancy. "No, I kept the impact of the change minimal this time. To him, it will be an embarrassing moment that he never spoke about to anyone," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "We need to make a few more changes before we allow that memory to change him more substantially, but he won't forget how comfortable that special underwear felt," she said with a wry smile. The way Rachel described it was as if it was all so obvious. Luke had always thought of himself as intelligent, yet despite her being only a few years his senior and his studies, it was like he was a five year old trying to figure out how nuclear fission worked. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, trying to push away the feeling that there was nothing he could do that she couldn’t do a million times better. She looked at him "It's your first day, Luke. For the next few months, I don't need you to do anything more than observe and study what we are doing and maybe write a few reports. If you can study the logs of what we changed between the two memories and look through the reverberation file, that will be enough for now." Luke took his seat and opened the output files on his computer, but before he started reading, he asked, "Isn't it too much of a contradiction for him to have played out the same memory twice?" Rachel smiled. "He will remember both memories being the same, and tonight he will sleep, which will allow his mind to embed the altered memory further, and then we can start to have some fun."

Hi guys! Melissa's Re-Potty Training is completed in my website: The Padded Playground. There you will find all of my finished and on-going stories, including Rebecca's Second Babyhood, Cuckolded & Diapered!, A Mother's Mistake and more. Melissa’s Re-Potty Training It was a beautiful day. Boys and girls were playing in the park, teenagers were hanging at the mall, and twenty-one-year-old Melissa was stuck inside her nursery. If there was anything that made the whole baby treatment unbearable, it was how time seemed to slow down as the day grew older. She sighed. By now, her friends would be at the beach or with their boyfriends. But not Melissa. No. Babies have no boyfriends. Babies aren’t allowed out of their playpens when Mommy’s busy. And her stepmother was busy. She was busy with her real daughter. Three-year-old Amelia had already been potty trained and was allowed to do more things than Melissa. And she was twenty, almost twenty-one. An adult. But here she was, diapered and wearing a ridiculous baby girl dress. If her friends could see her now, would they laugh? Would they help her? Would they change her already-soaked diaper? It had been weeks since she was last allowed to wear big-girl panties. Weeks since she tasted the sweetness of freedom. Independence was now out of the question. She doubted she could make it without someone looking after her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. Was this to be her life now? No longer an adult but a baby. Chapter 1 The Re-Potty Training Idea As Melissa entered the elegantly appointed dining room, her heart raced with apprehension. With each step, her unease grew heavier within her chest. The once familiar surroundings now felt suffocatingly foreign, as if she were a stranger in her own home. Her gaze drifted toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace, where the stern visage of her stepmother Helen stared back, conveying nothing but disapproval. Melissa had always felt that Helen saw her as an inconvenience, a constant reminder that her husband had had a full life before her. And Helen was a jealous woman. She had always belittled Melissa, and now that Melissa's dad was gone, she was alone with no one on her side but her best friend, Dana. Sadly, Dana didn’t live with her, and she needed an ally. "There you are, Mel," said Helen as Melissa entered the room, "I've been waiting for you." Helen's presence filled the room with an air of menace, casting a shadow over Melissa as she took her seat. As they sat together at the polished wooden table, the silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware on porcelain. Tea, as Helen called it, was a constant ritual at home. “How you been?” “All good.” “Hows’s job hunting treating you?” “There’s not much out there unless I want to work for KFC or something like that.” “I see. Anything else you’d like to share with me?” Melissa shook her head, thinking about one thing she didn’t want anyone to know. But her step-mother reached across the table and gently placed her hand upon Melissa's trembling fingers, her eyes cold and calculating. “I think it's about time we addressed your... little issue." Melissa didn't know what to say. She had been having the same problem for about a month. It started as something small, but it had spiraled out of control, and now she had no idea what to do. She had wet herself so many times so far that it was a miracle no one had found out. "What issue?" asked Melissa with a soft and doubtful demeanor. Maybe if she played dumb she could end this awkward conversation. "Look, if you want to pee yourself, that's okay," said Helen, "But you won't do it in my house. Not when I'm working so hard to potty train your sister." "Step-sister. And it's not your house. It's my dad's." "And according to his will, it's now mine." "And mine!" There was a short moment of silence. "Look," said Helen, grabbing Melissa's hand, "I want us to stop fighting all the time. Your father would've like that. What do you think?" Melissa nodded, hesitant, though. She wasn't fully convinced by Helen's intentions, and rightfully so. In the past, Helen had shown no kindness towards her. Helen leaned closer, her voice softening, "I don't want you to feel ashamed anymore. We can help you fix this." Melissa glanced down at her hands, gulping, "I don't know what to do." "Well, I was thinking. Amelia is going through potty training. She's still too small to understand much, right? So, why don't I potty train you alongside her?" Melissa almost choked with her own saliva. "What do you mean potty training me? I'm an adult!" "I know. I know you are. But listen to me, it's easy. We just need to teach your body how to hold it until you go potty. That shouldn't be too hard. As you said, you are an adult, and I bet a couple of weeks should be enough. Because if you cannot control it, I'm afraid diapers will be the only way." Melissa's jaw dropped, "You're kidding, right? I'm not... there's no way I'm wearing diapers. I'm an adult, remember? And at twenty-one, I get my dad's money, and I'll be out of here." "True. But you aren't twenty-one yet. And you are here, ruining your clothes and my furniture and setting a terrible example for your sister." Melissa didn't really have an argument; she just knew she didn't wanna be back in diapers at twenty-one. “Step-sister,” she said, “What do you mean potty training me?" “I think that part is self explanatory, right? We take you potty in a schedule until you stay dry in between potty trips. Then we decrease the frequency until you earn your big girl panties again. Eventually, your body will get used to it, and you'll go yourself. How does that sound?" "How does that help me now? I mean, I will still," she paused, blushing and ashamed, "Wet myself until we get it under control." "We can do what I'm doing with Amelia," she said, smiling, "Protection under your clothes." "No! I told you, no diapers." "Pull-ups aren't diapers. They are protective underwear." "What's the difference?" "For starters, they don't use tabs. They are easy to hide under your clothes. They are less bulky and noisy. They are completely different and they are very helpful during potty training..” "I don't know," said Melissa, thinking about how awkward it would be to have that "protective underwear" around her crotch. And what if someone found out? She was already not popular with people her age. Her only friend, Dana, was a little odd herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind. But there was no way she would tell her about it. "I just want to help you," said Helen, “Besides, this could be an excellent way for us to connect. You know, have that mother-daughter experience we never had.” Melissa sighed, ”When do we start?" "What about right away?" Helen wasted no time. She grabbed Melissa by the wrist, softly leading her deeper into the house. Through halls and corridors and stairs until they were in a room painted soft pink. It was Amelia’s room, and she wasn’t there. “Amelia’s playing outside. In her sandbox.” “She won’t know?” “She will. But she won’t care. She’s only three.” Helen grabbed some white underwear with the design of some Disney princess on the front. It was small, but, then again, Melissa was quite thin. Tall, yes, but thin. “Try this on,” said Helen, placing the pull-up in Melissa’s hand. It was defiantly thicker than regular underwear, and the deign was childish. But Helen was right, they didn’t look that much different from her panties. “A little privacy, please.” Helen left the room, leaving Melissa in the nursery. She carefully dropped her pants to notice her underwear was already damp. Sighing, knowing she actually needed the protection, she took her panties off and cleaned herself with some baby wipes she had close by. Finally, the moment of truth. She slid into the pull-ups, feeling the soft thickness of it against her gentle crotch. She didn’t dare to look at herself in the mirror. She rushed to get her pants on again, and when she was sure her protective underwear wasn’t visible, she left the room. Chapter 2 Potty Time Melissa sat at the dining table, staring blankly into space, while Helen prepared lunch. Each clink of the dishes sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of what was around her crotch. The pull-up wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be, but it was definitely not something she liked. She had kept it dry so far, though it had not even been an hour yet. Helen entered the room carrying a tray laden with fries, nuggets, and fresh salad. She smiled gently at Melissa, something the young woman wasn’t used to. Next to the her was her younger stepsister, Amelia. At three, she looked like a mini version of Helen herself. It was obvious she was destined for popularity, unlike Melissa, and somehow, even if Amelia had always been nice to her, she always resented her. “Mel's potty training too, Mommy?" asked Amelia as she grabbed a handful of fries. "That's right, hun." Melissa tried to smile back, but it seemed forced. Helen noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll take it slow, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way." Feeling slightly more reassured, Melissa nodded. "Thanks." As they all sat down to eat, Melissa couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Helen's behavior. Helen seemed to genuinely want to help her, but she wondered why. "It's time for the potty," Helen announced once everyone was finished with the meal. Helen gave them no time to argue as she grabbed both their wrist, pulling them towards the living room, where a plastic potty awaited. "Is that really necessary?" asked Melissa in shock. "It's just part of the process. Show me you can use the plastic potty, and you can move onto the toilet. It shouldn't be difficult. Should it?" Before Melissa could continue arguing, she was interrupted by her stepmother. "Who wants to go first?!" asked Helen again with a devilish smile. Amelia raised her hand. Within minutes, the younger of the three had done her business like a professional. "I'm a big girl!" said Amelia, smiling from ear to ear, "I'll be potty trained first!" Those words weighed heavily in Melissa's mind. The little brat was as competitive as her mother. It had been cute a few years ago, but now, she was just annoying. Melissa felt her rage growing stronger, fueled by the constant tease. But she fought back against it. After all, Helen was only trying to help. And Amelia needed the encouragement. "Yes, you are," said Helen, "But I think Melissa will surprise us too, right Mel?" Melissa nodded. Despite her frustration, she decided to give it a try. If nothing else, she owed it to Helen since she helped her when nobody else did. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself onto the seat of the tiny plastic potty. In contrast to Amelia's confident demeanor, Melissa felt vulnerable and exposed. However, knowing that she must prove her mettle, she closed her eyes and focused on relaxing her muscles. But nothing. A minute passed. And then another. She pushed harder. Nothing. She pushed again, and a loud fart echoed in the room. Melissa blushed as her stepmother and stepsister giggled. One more minute passed. Another. And nothing. "Alright," said Helen, "I don't think it's going to happen." "No, wait!" said Melissa, pushing harder now, "I can do this." "Honey, you're going to give yourself a stroke if you push that hard. It's okay. You didn't make it this time. Let's just try again later." "I made it in the potty, Mommy. I'm winning!" said Amelia, happy as just a kid could be. But as Melissa pulled her pull-up and pants back up, she couldn't help but feel pathetic and like a failure. She was and adult, and she couldn't even control her body enough to pee. "You'll make it next time. It's okay. It's the first time you've tried. I'm sure you'll make it," said Helen, and for the first time since Melissa met her, she actually felt as if her stepmother cared about her. Perhaps this potty-training idea wasn't that bad after all. With her first time on the potty a failure, Melissa had nothing left to do but wait. She was to call for Helen's help if she felt the need to go, but the thought of having to ask for help to pee was too embarrassing to even consider. She was a big girl. She could make it to the toilet without any help. And so she waited. "Potty time," said Helen an hour later as Melissa worked on her resume. It wasn't looking that good, but she wasn't twenty-one yet, and she needed the money if she wanted to go out that summer with her friends. "One minute," said Melissa, staring at a blank page. Maybe tomorrow, she could try again. It's not as if she was in dire need to get a job. If only being an adult wasn't that difficult. She stood up and went straight to the living, where Helen and Amelia were waiting beside the plastic potty. "Your sister's dry," said Helen, "What do we say?" "Congrats," said Melissa, pretending to care enough to form a smile. Helen approached Melissa with a gentle demeanor, almost motherly, "Now, let's check our big girl." "What are you...?!" Helen's finger found their way to the elastic band of Melissa's pull-up. The young adult blushed, trying to get away but failing. "My dear," said Helen, removing her fingers from Melissa's crotch, "You're wet. "What? No. I'm not!" Melissa rushed her hand to her padded crotch only to notice it was bigger and warmer and obviously full of urine. It couldn't be. She didn't feel it. She was a big girl. She should be able to make it to the potty. Her eyes turned watery, and her knees began shaking. "I'm sorry," she said, fighting back the tears. Helen embraced her with no hesitation. A warm embrace. The sort of touch only a mother could provide during times of distress, and for a second, Melissa felt less of a failure. "It's okay, honey," Helen said, patting her back carefully, "That's what your pull-ups are for. You'll make it next time." It sounded familiar – like some of those truisms parents tell children to encourage them. As much as she despised admitting it, her stepmother's kind words did help. Perhaps Helen was right. She might very well make it next time. It was just one accident. She would make it to the potty next time. There was no way she would lose the race for potty training against her younger stepsister. But for the entire week, Amelia outperformed her. “I’m a big girl!” She would sing as she made it to the potty. Meanwhile, Melissa sat there and nothing would come out. As if her body was actively working against her. Every day she would have to use three pull-ups or more while her younger step-sister was about to graduate to big girl panties. “Maybe we started you too early,” said Helen as she checked Melissa’s underwear, “It doesn’t seem you’re making any progress. If anything, it looks like you’re regressing.” Melissa blushed at her words. “We’ll keep trying tomorrow. But we might need a different approach if things keep going this way.” Melissa said nothing as she got ready for bed that night. Now alone in her room, her thoughts were flooded with the idea of failing her second potty-training. What would she say to Dana? She had been avoiding her best friend all week in hopes she could get her accidents under control. Melissa sighed, closing her eyes, hoping the next day would be better. However, when she woke up, she noticed something new as she moved in her bed. The padding between her legs was heavier and colder.

Thank you, CDfm, for pointing out the issues. I hope I fixed them all. If anyone sees any more errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. Update: I think I got them all this time. *** Do I have to? by nautybaby "Do I really have to?" "I really think you should." "But I don't want to." "We've been over this." "But I don't need them." "Last night and the laundry I've been doing lately says otherwise." "It won't happen again. I promise." "I've heard that before." "It's not fair!" "Fair or not, I won't have you ruining my friend's bed." "No!" I shouted. "You can't make me." "David!" she said sharply without raising her voice. "That's enough. I think we both know I can make you. Now, get your butt on that bed, and keep your voice down. That is unless you want Sharon to hear you getting a spanking on top of the tantrum you've been throwing." "You wouldn't," I blanched. "Try me." I looked into her steely eyes and slowly made my way to the bed. I lay down and gave her a pleading look. She simply grabbed the waist of my pajamas and began to tug. I gave in and lifted my bottom, allowing her to pull them down. She reached into my suitcase and pulled out the object of my dread. She had shown me the diapers before we left, but no matter how many times I saw them, I never got over just how big and thick they actually were. "Lift." I did and fought the urge to cry. She made short work of securing the diaper around my waist. She put the pajama bottoms back in my suitcase and locked it. "If you behave yourself, you can have those back in the morning." "You don't mean…" "We'll see. Now, get in bed." That was the end of a conversation that had been going on all day. Conversation, humph. Argument more like. It started when we were packing for the trip. I thought we were about ready when she brought out the package of diapers. "Are those what I think they are?" "Isn't that obvious?" "What do you have those for?" "Seriously?" "You don't expect me to wear those?" "I certainly do." "No way." "Yes way." "I won't." "You will. Now, hurry up. We're already late," she said, loading a number of the diapers into the case. "I don't need them. I've only had a couple of problems." "It started out as a couple of problems. It's gotten to be almost every night." "Yeah, almost. See, it's getting better. I'm not going to wear them." "You are going to wear them, and that's final. Now, get dressed." She said all this so matter-of-factly that it made my blood boil. I stomped over to the suitcase and started taking the diapers out. I felt a sharp sting in my right bottom cheek. I shot up straight and turned around. "You will put those back, unless you want some more." Her eyes were hard. "No," I said with more confidence than I felt. "David, put those back right now, or so help me…" I stood my ground, hoping my trembling didn't show. "Is that really the way you want to play it? Have it your way." I thought I had won the battle. That feeling lasted only a second before pain erupted from my ear. She spun me around by it and threw me face down on the bed. There was a knee in my back and slaps were raining down on my underpants. "Stop. Stop!" "Are you going to pack your diapers and stop fussing?" "No!" "Fine. If that's the way you want it." "No!" I screamed, as my underwear was yanked down. After that, my words got less and less comprehensible until I was simply blubbering. Still not dressed, my belt was in handy reach to her. She put it to good use—good from her perspective anyway. "Are you ready to do as you are told?" "Yes," I sobbed. "Good. Finish packing and get dressed. We're leaving in five minutes. Don't make me have to 'encourage' you. And you can start with the diapers. I'll be back for the case in just a minute. It had better be ready." I hastily repacked the diapers and the rest of my clothes. True to her word, she was soon back, and after checking to see that I had indeed packed the diapers, she locked the case and took it downstairs. That left me a few minutes alone to nurse my bruised pride and bottom while I finished dressing. I found her behind the wheel of the car, waiting to get on the road. I climbed in the other side and sulked. We couldn't have been on the road for more than five minutes before I started restating my position about why I shouldn't have to wear diapers. She didn't argue with me. She listened in silence. I felt encouraged that I was making my point, my reasoning becoming more shrill the longer I went on. I found I was repeating myself, and she had yet to utter a word. My tirade petered out. After a minute of silence, she quietly asked, "Are you finished?" "Um, yeah, I guess." "Good. You've had your say. Now, I'm going to have mine. Like it or not, you have a problem. I've been extremely patient about it. I've even been the one to clean up after you. It's not going away. It's getting worse. We are going to be staying with my friend. I do not want you embarrassing me or yourself by wetting her bed. You are going to wear those diapers, and you are going to stop fussing about it. If you insist on being a big baby about it, I can treat you like one. That includes pulling this car over, spanking you again, and putting you in one of those diapers for the rest of the trip. I'm already not happy with you. Would you like to try your luck?" "No." "Good." The trip was mostly silent aside from some tunes softly playing on the radio. I stared out the window, opting to table the discussion for the time being. Occasionally, she nudged me and told me to stay awake, unless I wanted to put a diaper on and take a nap. Eventually, I faced forward, so she could see I was awake, and pouted. If I had been eight or ten or even twelve, I suppose these events would be understandable. But I was not twelve, and the woman driving was not my mommy. I was thirty-two, and she was my wife. When we arrived, Kathy, my wife, and Sharon hugged and air kissed like long-lost sisters. Sure, we lived far enough apart that they didn't see each other often, but they were on the phone at least once a week. I shook my head and got the bags. "Sorry we're late," Kathy said. "Packing took a bit longer than I expected." I had the impression that comment was aimed at me, but I ignored it. "Don't worry about it. It's just so good to see you. I know how it can be. You should try it with a baby sometime. I still can't believe the amount of stuff I had to get ready for Phil to take Abby for the week." I tried to picture Sharon's ex taking care of a baby on his own. I don't know if I found the images more funny or frightening. Oh well, maybe one of his girlfriends will help him out. "Yes," Kathy mused. "Packing for a baby can be a lot of work." I was sure that was directed at me. Again, I chose to ignore it. "Come on inside. Dinner's almost ready. Dave, you can take those right upstairs, first door on the right. You know the spot." When I came downstairs, Kathy asked, "Did you wash your hands?" I didn't like the way they both giggled. "Yes, I washed my hands," I replied irritably. "Don't be grumpy. I was just asking." Dinner was a long drawn out affair. Kathy and Sharon went on and on about this one and that one. I was mostly ignored, which suited me fine. I didn't have the slightest interest in whoever and whatever they were talking about. Mainly, I just picked at my food and drank more than my share of wine. During a lull, Sharon turned to me, "So, Dave, what's new and exciting with you these days?" "Nothing much," I mumbled. "Don't mind him," Kathy interjected. "I think he's just overtired from the trip. I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude." Her accusing tone was not lost on me. "Sorry. I guess I am a little tired." "I think we better get you into bed then." "Why, Kathy!" Sharon exclaimed. "I meant to sleep, you sex fiend," she laughed. "Come on, Davey, upstairs." Whether it was the trip or the wine, I was tired. I bade Sharon goodnight and climbed the stairs ahead of Kathy. "You go potty, then meet me in the bedroom," she said. Not thinking, I did as instructed. When I got to the bedroom, I saw her laying out the diaper on the bed. That's where you came in. Kathy had me tucked in and started to leave to room. "Where are you going? Aren't you coming to bed?" "Not just yet. Sharon and I have more to talk about, and there's most of a bottle of wine it would be a shame to waste. You go to sleep, and I'll be up in a while. I lay there for a time, replaying the day in my head. If I hadn't been tired and buzzed, I might have been more upset. Every now and again, I would hear their raucous laughter. I did my best not to believe they were talking about my sleeping attire. My thoughts turned to how I got into this mess in the first place. It started about month before. I had gotten a new boss, and it wasn't going well. Nothing seemed to please him. There was always something wrong, and no matter how small the problem was, he acted like it was the end of civilization as we know it. The harder I tried to anticipate what was wanted, the farther my attempts were from what he had in mind. I tried to get clearer instructions, but that only seemed to make him madder. It was really taking a toll on me and, no doubt, on Kathy. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't set work aside at the end of the day. All I could think of was what the next confrontation was going to be about. I was distracted and short tempered. Even my dreams were filled with anxieties about everything that had happened and visions of what might be ahead. When I was able to sleep at all, it wasn't good. After a week of mostly sleepless nights, I found myself shaken awake by Kathy. I was completely disoriented and not hearing what she was saying. I don't know how many times she repeated it before it finally sank in. "David, wake up. You wet the bed." "What?" "You wet the bed." I rolled toward her, and it dawned on me. I wet the bed. That's right. She said that. Still only half awake, all I could say was, "I'm sorry." Kathy told me to go to the bathroom and clean up, and she would take care of the bed. Still to fuzzy to think, I did as she told me. My wet pajamas cooled quickly as I went. I stripped off and sat on the toilet, trying to clear my head. By the time I was awake enough to push out the little pee I had left and get washed up. I was deeply embarrassed by what I had done. I almost wanted to stay in the bathroom just to avoid having to look at Kathy. When I did come out, she was smoothing out towels over the wet spot. I almost went back in. "Good, you're finally back. Help me get the clean sheets on. Maybe we can still get some sleep before we have to get up." I picked up the bottom sheet and shook it out. She signaled she was ready, and I fluffed it over the bed. The two of us made short work of remaking the bed, and I thought Kathy was being really good about the situation. "Did you make sure to go peepee while you were in there?" So much for that. "Yes," I said, a bit more harshly than I intended. "Don't get snippy with me. I'm not the reason we're changing sheets in the middle of the night." "Sorry," I said, and I meant it. "Me too. Let's go back to bed, and we'll forget all about it. Okay?" "Okay," I said and hugged her tight. "I love you, and I am sorry." "I love you too. Now, go to sleep. Morning's going to come awfully early." That was easier said than done. I don't know how Kathy managed it. I lay there listening to her breathing, wondering how I could have wet myself and worrying that I might do it again. I think I drifted off just before the alarm went off. Work the next day was miserable. Besides the usual grief from my boss, my eyes were burning, and my head was pounding all day. By the time I got home, I was an exhausted wreck. After pushing my dinner around the plate for a while, I told Kathy I was going to bed. "I think that's a good idea. You had a rough night, and you look awful." "Thanks a lot." "You know what I mean. Go on. I'll clean up here. Don't forget to use the potty before you go night-night." "Not funny!" "Oh, come on. You know I'm joking. You may as well laugh as cry. It was just a one-time thing. Go get some rest, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning." I nodded and followed her advice, even stopping to "use the potty" on the way. Totally wiped out, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not that it brought much rest. My dreams were the now usual of instant replays and anxious fantasies I had suffered for days. "Wake up, David," I heard, before I felt the shaking. "David, wake up." Once I realized it was Kathy, and not my mother trying to get me up for school, I sat bolt upright, panicking that I had done it again. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it." "It's alright, Dave," she said soothingly. "You didn't do anything. You didn't, did you? You were just having a bad dream. But as long as you're up, you may as well use the potty, just to be safe." I apologized and kissed her, and then decided a pee might be a good idea at that. There was a small wet spot on my pajama pants, but the bed was dry. I didn't mention it, and if Kathy noticed, she was kind enough to let it pass. Having limited my fluids all day, I don't know where it all came from. I did know I feel a lot better when I climbed back into bed. I slept better that night and felt more like my old self in the morning. That lasted for about an hour after I got to work. Then it was what had come to be business as usual. It was a particularly bad day. I was pushed and pulled in so many directions, I was beginning to doubt the sky was blue. If I had been thinking clearly, I probably would have guessed it was going to happen again. Kathy was again supportive and more patient than I felt I deserved. Again, she got us cleaned up and back to sleep in short order. I had a few good days, with no nighttime problems, even though things were just as bad, if not worse at work. I was starting to feel confident when it happened a third time. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream, and I think Kathy knew it. Once back in bed, she held me and whispered reassuring things until I went to sleep. The pattern continued, and I ended up having five wet nights in two weeks. After the last of those, Kathy sat me down in the morning. "Dave, this… um… problem you've been having is not getting better. I think you should see somebody about it." The thought of telling my doctor and friend, George Simmons, that I was wetting the bed filled me with dread. "That's not really necessary. I'm sure it will stop on its own. It's not that big a deal." "Says the man who's not washing the sheets. You're right. It may be nothing serious, but then again it might be. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of being woken up in the middle of the night and having to clean up after you. Get on that phone and make an appointment, or I'll do it for you." "Alright, alright, I'll call." I was greatly relieved when George's office told me they couldn't fit me in for at least two weeks. I begged off making an appointment, telling them that I was just feeling a little under the weather, and it would probably pass before they could see me. Kathy was not happy but understood it was not my fault, and she let the matter drop. Or so I thought. That afternoon, I got a call from her telling me to meet her at Dr. MacPherson's office at 4:30. Having to tell my boss I needed to leave early while avoiding the reason was not a pleasant conversation to say the least. I was happy just to get out of there when the time came. At least, I was until I was on the way and started thinking about what was going to happen at the appointment. Margaret MacPherson had been my doctor growing up. Her general practice had served all my family, and Kathy became her patient shortly after we were married. After college, when I had some voice in the matter, I insisted that seeing a female doctor was uncomfortable, and that's when I came under George's care. I was not looking forward to going back to her. Dr. MacPherson—I never could bring myself to call her anything else—literally knew me inside and out. She had seen me through all my childhood illnesses, broken bones, acne, and everything else. To me, she would always be Dr. MacPherson. Kathy, on the other hand, having come to her later in life, always call her Margaret. They had become fast friends, and Dr. MacPherson was almost a surrogate mother to Kathy. Kathy and I were called back shortly after I arrived. We were shown into a room where Dr. MacPherson was waiting for us. "Kathy, how wonderful to see you! And Davey, just look at you, so grown up!" With her rosy cheeks, halo of white hair, and the soft Glasgow burr that never left her, it was impossible to be upset by her comment. She was everybody's favorite grandmother. "Hello, Dr. MacPherson. It's nice to see you again." "And you too, dear. How is your mother? I miss seeing her since she moved away." "She's well, thank you. I'll tell her you were asking after her." "Oh, yes, do. So, what brings you in today?" I sat there trying to think of some way to tell her why I was there. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. Still, no words would come out. Finally, Kathy just took over. "Davey," she said, using the same boyhood nickname, "has been having some problems keeping the bed dry at night." There it was, right out on the table. "Oh! Is your wee problem back, dear?" the doctor asked gently. She placed her hand on top of mine reassuringly but couldn't avoid a small titter at her unintended pun. I'm sure Kathy had thought she was trying to be discrete about the issue, but it felt more like a mother trying to be gentle about a child's potty-training setbacks. My mother had used almost those same words many years before. "Back?" Kathy asked. "Oh my, yes, dear," she said without regard for my embarrassment. "Davey was quite the little waterworks when he was a boy, weren't you, Davey. I wondered for a long time if we would ever get him out of nappies." It finally dawned on her that this was extremely uncomfortable for me. I am sure that my face was bright red. I could feel heat radiating from the blush. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it dear? What seems to be the problem?" Without hesitation, Kathy began describing my symptoms as if I weren't in the room or too small to speak for myself. "He doesn't seem to be sleeping well. He's constantly tossing and turning, and he's always still tired when he wakes up. He's been distant and irritable, and every few days, he wets the bed." "Oh, I'm so sorry. What seems to be the problem, Davey? Is something bothering you?" With some prompting and a great deal of prodding, I told the whole story about what was going on at work. Kathy knew or guessed some of it, but I did not want to let on just how bad it really was. Once they got me to open up, it all came pouring out. The exhaustion and that day's fight with the boss caught up with me, and I was sobbing by the time I finished the tale. I was calming down before I realized Kathy had pulled my head to her shoulder, and she was stroking my hair and shushing me gently. Dr. MacPherson's face was a mix of sympathy and anger. "It's just like that teacher you had all over again. Och, that woman! I'd still like to get my hands on her." She told the story of Mrs. Hannity, my fourth-grade teacher. She was nearing retirement and had a grandson who was a spoiled rotten little hellion. I had the misfortune of bearing him a striking resemblance, and she took out all complaints about him on me. I resented her accusations but came to half-believe that I was as bad as she made out. I fell into depressed and listless state, and my grades suffered. My mother asked me what was wrong, and I tried to tell her about my issues with the teacher and how unfair she was. My mother, of course, took the teacher's side and told me I had to stop being lazy and work harder, which is one of the things Mrs. Hannity accused me of. It all came to a head one day when I turned in a half-completed homework assignment. I had fallen asleep over the paper and didn't have time to finish it before school. Mrs. Hannity went on a tirade the likes of which I had never seen, not only about the homework but about the messy state of my desk and anything else she could think of. When she dumped my desk over onto the floor, I was so shocked and scared, I wet my pants. That stopped her ranting but infuriated her all the more. She went silent and the color rose in her face. She grabbed my ear and dragged me to the office. She told them she would not suffer a baby like me in her class. I sobbed and sobbed while the secretary called my mother. I was still in tears, shivering in my wet pants when she arrived. The ride home was no better, as she went on and on about how ashamed she was to have a boy my age wetting his pants in school, how I was going to have to apologize to everyone involved, and how was she ever going to be able to show her face again. I ran into the house, crying my eyes out. I stripped out of my wet clothes and threw myself on my bed and bawled my eyes out. It was all so unfair. I must have cried myself to sleep, because my mother was gently trying to rouse me. She appeared considerably calmer and asked me what had happened. I told her the whole story in lurid detail. The more I told her, the angrier she got but not at me. She took me in her arms and told me how sorry she was. When we had both settled down, she told me to wash up and get dressed. We were going back to the school. I begged her not to make me go. She told me not to worry about it, I would not have to be in Mrs. Hannity's class ever again, if she had anything to say about it. I followed with great reluctance as she strode into the office. "I want to see the principal. Now!" I had never seen my mother so forceful, not with adults anyway. I don't think the secretary had either, because we were shown into Mr. Mellon's office almost immediately. My mother really gave him an earful about all that had gone on. I was mostly ignored except to fill in some blanks and details. Mr. Mellon promised an investigation and said I'd be put into Miss Sanderson's class for the duration. For the year, my mother insisted and got her way. I don't know the full extent of what happened. I did have to tell the story one more time to some people I didn't know. Shortly after that, Mrs. Hannity "got sick," and we heard she was taking an early retirement. I felt and did better in Miss Sanderson's class. I think I even developed a little crush on her. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. From the day of the incident until a long time after, I had nightmares about it and started wetting the bed. Today, we would call it post-traumatic stress disorder, but not back then, especially not with children. My mother was patient for a time, but it was short-lived. She took me to Dr. MacPherson, who recognized the problem and was sympathetic to both of us and assured us it would pass in time. There was little she could do, however, and her only recommendation was "night nappies," as she put it, until I got over it. Despite my protests and promises not to let it happen again, my mother agreed there was no other option. She insisted that she was as embarrassed about it as I was, but I didn't think that was possible. That was the first of many nights my mother put me in a diaper. It did not come without an argument and a couple of slaps on my behind. The nightmares eventually stopped but the wetting didn't. I was in middle school before I was reliably dry, and the diapers were a thing of the past. Nevertheless, my mother kept a waterproof cover on my bed through high school, "just in case." Now, here I was again, facing the same problem for much the same reasons. Dr. MacPherson was again sympathetic and reassuring, but her solution was the same. She prescribed some antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication, but until I could deal with the stressors, I could expect more wet nights. The best thing was to start wearing nappies to keep the bed dry and allow us both a decent night's sleep. She recommended we get them from a medical supply store, as the ones to be found in supermarkets and pharmacies were virtually useless. She recommended a shop that could also fill my prescriptions. "Don't worry, dear," she comforted me. "I'm sure you'll get over it, and you'll be all dry in no time, just like before." Knowing how long that "before" lasted, I was not reassured. Kathy thanked Dr. MacPherson for both of us and promised to call her to have lunch soon. Dr. MacPherson bade us goodbye and made me promise to send her regards to my mother. Kathy drove us to the medical store. I begged her not to make me wear diapers. It was like reliving the argument with my mother all those years ago. Kathy would have none of it and insisted I go inside with her. There, she handed over the prescription and proceeded to ask the lady about "nighttime protection." She lady asked a lot of, to my mind, unnecessary and intrusive questions. Kathy went into lurid detail about the problems I was having and how heavily I wet. She insisted we should buy a whole case of their most absorbent product, saying she would take back any unopened packages if things cleared up in a short time, but the case lot was far more economical if the problem persisted. Kathy agreed, and I had to carry a huge box of all too conspicuously labeled "adult briefs" to the car. I took up the argument again at bedtime. It was just like been ten years old all over again, me begging and promising not to wet anymore, Kathy reasoning that I couldn't make that promise, and she wanted a good night's sleep. It all got rather heated until Kathy gave me a couple of swats on the behind and told me that was enough. I was again the little boy at the mercy of his mother. I lay down and let her put the dreaded thing on. Memories flooded back as she raised the thick padding between my legs. I was weeping when she fastened the last tape and gave the front a pat. I lay awake for a time, feeling sorry for myself, but the drugs kicked in, and I soon drifted off. I'm pretty sure I had nightmares again, mixed up visions of my boss and Mrs. Hannity. I panicked when Kathy shook me awake. I quickly felt for the felt for the wet spot and blurted out that I didn't wet the bed. Kathy told it was just time to get up, and I realized there was sunlight coming in the window. I was relieved until Kathy gave my crotch a squeeze. We both knew in an instant that I had not had a dry night. Not dry at all, I realized when I stood, and the diaper sagged between my legs. It was with a good deal of depression that I took it off and had my shower, and I still had work to look forward to. It was hard to think of anything else that day, and my boss was no better than usual. The only thing that got me through was the thought that I would be leaving for vacation that afternoon. I had used some accumulated sick time to take the extra half-day off for the drive to Sharon's house. I was happy to leave the office and my boss behind. Those were my thoughts as I drifted off. Soon enough, I felt Kathy climb in next to me. She curled up against my back, and I felt her hand work around to the front. She squeezed my crotch, and I thought she was up to something good. Then I heard her whisper. "You'll last till morning." Whereupon, she rolled over. I was too much asleep to fully comprehend what she meant. There must have been a part of me that did understand, as I slept fitfully after that. I have vague recollections of dreams wherein I was being scolded by my mother for wetting my pants… again. When I felt Kathy shaking me awake, I didn't feel much more rested than when I went to sleep. To top it off, my head was pounding. "Good thing we put that on you. I hope that satisfies you that I know what I'm doing, and we won't have a problem again tonight." I felt the squish when I rolled over, as well as a pounding in my skull. I couldn't bear to look at her, but I managed to mumble a dejected, "No." She reached down and undid the tapes. I tried to help, but she just swatted my hands away. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure it will make you feel better. There's coffee waiting when you're done." She handed me my pajama pants, and I took her up on her advice. The shower did help. I felt almost human when I got out. If only that guy would lay off the drums. Not ready for the rigors of getting dressed, I returned to my pajamas and a robe and went downstairs. Coffee, lots of it, finished the job. By the time I had had something to eat, I was moderately ready to face the day. "Okay," Kathy said. "Get dressed. We're going shopping." I groaned, showing none of the enthusiasm she had. "Shopping? Really? Do I have to go? I'm still tired, and my head hurts." I admit it. I was whining. "Yes, you have to go. You're not going to just waste the day or get into who knows what kind of trouble. Besides, it's your own fault your head hurts. Now, upstairs; scoot." "You know," Sharon intervened. "He does still look a little green behind the gills." That made me like Sharon a little more. Kathy looked me over. "Hmm, maybe. We'll discuss it while he gets dressed. Let's go." Kathy shut the bedroom door, and I turned to her. "Don't make me go. You know I'll be useless and bored, and I really don't feel all that well." "You do look a little under the weather," she conceded. "Though I don't know why you should be rewarded for tying one on last night." "It's not a reward. Trust me, I'm being punished for last night. Please let me stay here. You two will have a lot more fun without me." "You're probably right at that. But I'm not so sure about leaving you here alone. If you're as tired as you say you are, you'll probably take a nap, and that risks Sharon's furniture. No, you'll just have to come along." "Please, honey, I'll stay awake, I promise. Besides, I never have problems during the day." "That's because you don't sleep in the day. I think it's best you come along." "Aww! Please don't make me. Nothing will happen; I promise." I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. "Well," she considered, "I suppose there might be one way." "Yes! Yes! Whatever you say. Just don't make me go with you." "You're sure now? It really means that much for you to stay here?" "Yes! Absolutely. I'll do it." "Alright, but you insisted. There's no turning back now. Go potty, and we'll get your diaper on." "What!" "That's the deal. You said you are too tired to go, and I can't trust you to stay awake or not wet in your sleep. If you stay home, I want you in a diaper. That way I can feel safe if you do take a nap." "But I said I'd stay awake. I have work I can do. That'll keep me awake." "We're on vacation. You shouldn't be working. Besides, we both know how well you stay on task without someone to watch you. No, diapers or shopping; it's your choice." I was torn. It was bad enough having to wear them at night, but at least I could ignore them then. On the other hand, department stores, fitting rooms, girl talk. "Fine. You win." And I went across to the bathroom. The diaper was already laid out when I got back. Condemned to my fate, I took off my clothes and lay down. Kathy efficiently diapered me. "Wait a second. What if I have to pee?" "That should be obvious." "But I'll be awake." "This was your idea." "It was not my idea! It was yours." "Alright, maybe the idea was, but it was your choice, and it's been made. We're not wasting that diaper, just because you didn't think it through." She appeared to be thinking of something. She reached in her purse and pulled out a marker. Before I knew what she was up to, she was marking her initials over the intersections of the tapes and the plastic. "That'll make sure you don't try taking it off as soon as I'm out the door. If you do, I'll know, and you'll get that spanking, Sharon or no Sharon." She got thoughtful again, and then she threw me for a loop. She pulled out another diaper. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked, shocked. "I'm going to double diaper you. I don't know how long we'll be out, and I can't take a chance of your leaking. The two should hold all your peepees. Up." It was obvious I was not going to win here. I let her put it on me. She used her long fingernails to poke a few holes in the inner one before taping up the outer. She repeated the trick with the marker. She gave the whole package as couple of satisfied pats. "There, all snug and safe and ready for your day. Now, since you claim you are not feeling well, I expect you to take it easy. Nap if you can. I want you feeling better, so we can do things together the rest of our stay." "Okay," I sighed. "Don't take that tone. You got what you wanted." I hadn't but didn't argue the point. "Get dressed and come say goodbye to Sharon and me." Kathy left the room, and I stood up to dress. The bulk between my legs was incredible. A bowlegged waddle was all I could manage. I tried to put on some khakis, but it wasn't happening. I resigned myself to putting my pajamas back on and threw on my robe. Stairs aren't easy when you can't put your knees together. I had to take them one at a time, and each one was accompanied by a distinct rustling I really hoped only I could hear. I stood as still as I could by the door and let the ladies come to me for a quick kiss and hug goodbye. Kathy surreptitiously patted my bottom and told me to be a good boy. I'm sure I jumped. I only hoped Sharon didn't notice, but her smile didn't make me optimistic. I watched them drive away and wondered what I was going to do with myself. It was difficult to walk normally, and the crinkling, exceptionally loud to my ears, was distracting. I did have some work I could do, but I wasn't enthused by the prospect. I got out my laptop anyway and set up at the kitchen table. After getting a cup of coffee and checking my email, all junk, I opened my work project. I stared at it for fifteen minutes or so before closing it down again. I was on vacation and in no mood to work. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much of anything. The double thick diaper kept me focused on my problems and my plight. I figured, or hoped anyway, that I was not alone. Surely there were other men this happened to. Maybe there was some advice on how to handle the situation, preferably advice that did not rely on diapers. If I could show Kathy some alternative, maybe she would relent. The internet was not coming to my rescue. Oh, there was some consolation in finding out that I was not the only adult who experienced bedwetting problems. Most of the information indicated that they were stress related and would eventually pass along with the stressors. There were other causes that were, quite frankly, kind of scary. I would have to consider seeing a doctor. Not my regular doctor. I thought I would die if I had to tell George about this problem. The shock for me, though, was not the number of people who had the problem but the number who seemed to revel in it and the number who didn't have it but wanted to. The number of stories, true, fictional, or mixed, was staggering. Most seemed to be fantasy, or mostly so. That of itself was cause for thought. The number of those where the problem was dealt with by the sufferer's wife, girlfriend or mother enforcing the use of diapers was frightening. Apparently, I was not alone, either in diapers or in being spanked. At least some of the stories had to contain some truth. While I was reading, my morning coffee was catching up with me. I made a vow that I would wait it out and show Kathy my wearing diapers was ridiculous, at least during the day. I was not quite so confident about nighttime. Unfortunately, the amount of coffee I drink, and the effects it has on my bladder, made me doubt my resolve pretty quickly. I held on for as long as I could, but after a couple of painful spasms and a look at how little time had gone by, I knew I couldn't take it. The flood that followed was mind-blowing. As hard as it is to admit, the relief, after fighting the urge for so long, was almost orgasmic. That is until the reality of the situation began to sink in. I was sitting there in a soaking wet diaper, a grown man wallowing in his own pee. I could feel the wetness all around me, and I was sure that I had to have leaked. I stood up and checked the chair, bone dry. I checked out the diaper as best I could. Except for a few small spots between my legs, where I remembered Kathy poking holes, it showed no sign of what I did. I felt disgusted with myself but relieved I hadn't flooded the kitchen. Under Kathy's implicit threat and my explicit promise, I knew I was stuck in this situation until they got back. I could only hope it wouldn't be too long and that Kathy would give me some warning of their return. It was going to be bad enough facing her, having wet myself. The idea that Sharon might notice was unthinkable. Having no way out of my predicament without making Kathy more mad at me, I went back to my research. I decided to concentrate on how people like me felt about the situation. "People like me," there was a strange thought. Only hours before, I would have considered identifying a community of adults in diapers crazy. As expected, I found embarrassment, depression, and a fair amount of self-loathing. I did not expect to find so many people who gave every impression that they enjoyed being in diapers. I certainly never expected to find that group that referred to themselves as Adult Babies, people who actively sought out the opportunity to relive the experience of being toddlers or even younger. I found the pictures rather disconcerting. Was that where I was headed? It was inevitable that I would have to pee again while I surfed away. The need was less pronounced, and the hour was getting later. Again, I tried to hold off. I hadn't lasted very long when the other effect coffee has started to hit me. I was not going to give into that one, but holding that back made the pressure on my bladder worse. Eventually, it came down to a choice of the lesser of two evils. I was already wet, so the decision to wet some more was not difficult. The feeling was not as intense as before, but I did feel a lot better, and the other urge seemed to abate. I was hungry now, and made myself some lunch, just a quick sandwich and some juice. More coffee seemed like a bad idea. Eating took my mind off my troubles for the moment. It also made me sleepy. I felt that a nap might not be such a bad idea after all and went upstairs to lie down. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was, as I was rather disoriented when I heard Sharon's bright announcement that they were home. I rolled over with a squish. I knew without looking that I had wet in my sleep, and the diaper was considerably fuller than when I came upstairs. I also realized my other problem was coming back with a vengeance. There was a deep rumble in my gut that would need attention and soon. I was trying to shake off the cobwebs and figure out what to do when I heard footsteps on the staircase. That made me panic, which didn't help my situation any. The door swung open, and there was Kathy, thankfully alone. "What's the matter," she asked, concerned. "I… uh… hi," I said. "You must have needed that nap," she said, walking over to the bed. "Any problems while we were gone?" "Um… no… not really. Now that your home can I take this… thing off?" "Yes, I think so. Just let me make sure you were a good boy and didn't mess with it." Before I could stop her, she had the covers pulled back. I made a grab for my pajama bottoms, but she sharply slapped my hands. She wrestled the pants down while I begged her not to. "Oh my god! It's a good thing I put you in two. You're soaked." "Uh… yeah… you were gone a long time. Now please let me take this off. I have to go." "I can't imagine you have anything left in you." "Not that, the other." "Oh! Does my little boy have to go poopy?" she asked with a little too much relish. "Please, Kathy. This is hard enough." "Aww. Is it hard to hold it? Do you want to make a boom-boom in your diaper?" "Kathy, enough. Just let me up." I was getting desperate. "Don't get snippy with me, Mr. Soggybottom. Go on, if you have to go so bad." She got out of the way, and I leapt from the bed. I made for the bathroom and fell flat on my face. My pants were still around mid-thigh. The fall distracted me, and I pooped a little. Please don't let it smell, I hoped. Kathy was at my side in a second, helping me to my feet. She pulled up my pants and gave my bottom a pat. I started for the door. "Not so fast. Come back here." "Kathy, I really need to…" "Here. Now," she said, pointing at the floor in front of her. I clenched my cheeks and went to the spot. "Turn around." I knew arguing about it was not going to get me anywhere. I did as I was told and hoped against hope that what I knew was coming wouldn't. It did. She pulled back the waistbands of my pajamas and diapers and looked down the back. "I don't believe it. You did. You filthy little boy." She grabbed my ear and started dragging me toward the bathroom. That painful shock and sudden unbalance caused me to drop more into the seat of my pants. I felt sick. Kathy slammed the bathroom door behind us. "Really? Really? You actually pooped your pants. Unbelievable. What have you got to say for yourself?" I tried to come up with an explanation. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. Kathy gave an exasperated sigh. "Get those pajamas off." I did and turned to put them on a hook. "Did you go more?" She felt the back of my pants. "You did, didn't you? I can't believe you. Lie down." I squatted down slowly, trying to minimize the additional mess this was going to make. "Is everything alright in there?" Sharon was at the door! In that position, it was all too much for me. Whatever was left in my bladder and bowels found its way into my pants. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. "Yes, I guess so," Kathy sighed. "Just a little emergency we need to take care of." "Nothing serious, I hope." "Nothing a bath won't fix." "A bath?" Silence. "Oh. Well, never mind. Come down when you're ready. I'll start dinner." "Alright, stinker. Let's get you cleaned up." She started the bath running. That's when tears started. Thoroughly ashamed, I lay down and let Kathy untape the diapers. "Oh, God!" she choked. "Why did you do that in your pants? Why didn't you just take it off?" "You told me I couldn't!" "I know did, but I didn't mean you should…" She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. "Okay. I guess this is partly my fault. I could have thought it through better and been clearer with you, but only partly. You're having some difficulties with your bladder, and I understand the reasons for that. It's okay. I just put you in a diaper to protect you and Sharon's furniture. But you are certainly old enough to know you shouldn't poop your pants, no matter what I said. I can't believe you did that." She sighed and dumped the poop in the toilet. "Just get in the shower. I'm getting a headache and can't talk about this now." I got in and let the stink and humiliation wash off of me. Clean and smelling better, I was feeling somewhat better when I got out. Then I noticed the diapers were gone. What had Kathy done with them? I didn't know what I would have done with them, but they had to go somewhere. What if Sharon saw them? My head was spinning, and my heart was pounding when I got dressed and went downstairs. Sharon didn't say anything when I entered the kitchen, but her sympathetic smile was all I needed to know the cat was out of the bag. Avoiding eye contact, I mumbled hello and took a seat at the table. I spent the remainder of the evening trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Despite knowing a diaper was in my future, I was almost looking forward to going to bed. When Kathy suggested I take my meds and make an early night of it, I had no objections. "Meds? Are you sick, Dave?" "No," Kathy explained for me. "Dave's been really stressed out at work, and the doctor just gave him something to get over the hump." "Oh, is that why he's…" She stopped short. "Well, I just hope you start feeling better real soon." "Thanks. Goodnight." I went upstairs with Kathy close behind. She closed the door behind us, and I turned on her. "How could you tell her?" I said sharply, keeping my voice low. "How could I not? I had to get rid of that diaper, and she was right there. There was no avoiding it." "But she… How can I face… I can't…" My frustration mounted as I tried to speak. Grasping for words, my emotions got the best of me, and my eyes filled with tears. "I want to go home." I sank down on the bed and cried. With my face in my hands, I sobbed, "Why? Why? Why? I can't do this anymore. I can't take it. I just want to die." Kathy grabbed my head and forced me to look at her. "Don't you ever say that! I love you. I don't want to live without you. You are not to even think like that, do you understand me? If you ever say anything like that again, I swear, I'll spank you so hard…" She sat down and took me in her arms. She was crying too. "We'll get through this, together. Just don't ever think about leaving me like that. I love you so much." We sat like that for a long time, holding each other and letting it all out. I was drained and hardly noticed when Kathy began to undress me. Filled with love for her, I started to caress her. "No, honey. I think we are both too tired for that tonight. Let's get your diaper on. It's been a rough day all around." Disappointed but with no strength to object, I let her dress me. She got me a glass of water to take my meds, and she tucked me into bed. She held me until I went to sleep. I don't remember her leaving, but I sort of noticed her getting back in. I rolled over and snuggled close to her. I was wet again the next morning but felt more rested. I was alone. There was a stack of clothes on the bed with a plastic bag and a note on top. "Get dressed and come downstairs. You can put your diaper in the bag and bring that with you." I put the wet diaper in the bag, had a quick wash and got dressed. I wasn't looking forward to carrying the object of my shame downstairs, but I and it couldn't stay there forever. Sharon and Kathy were having coffee in the kitchen. I tried to dispose of the package as discretely as possible, but I think I only managed to draw more attention to myself. "Honey, sit down. We need to talk about something." Here we go, I thought. This wasn't going to be good. Sharon brought me a cup of coffee. That helped some. "Sweetheart, I know you are really uncomfortable about all this, but I think we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. We are all aware that you are going to have to wear diapers to bed for a while. There, I said it. Diapers, diapers, diapers. Pretending that you don't is making us all uncomfortable. Sharon understands, and so do I. It's not your fault; it's just the way things are right now. Your trying to hide from the fact is just creating more stress you don't need. So, as of now, we are going to stop walking on eggshells and simply accept your diapers as a fact of life. Among ourselves, we'll speak openly about them if needed, and we won't make a big deal about disposing of them. That will save us all a lot of worry and trouble." I just stared into my coffee cup. I did not want to look at anyone, especially Sharon. I was fine pretending. Having to acknowledge the problem to someone else was not something I wanted to do. "It's okay, Dave," Sharon said. "I know the pressure you are under, and I understand how you feel." "How could you?" "I see this all the time in my work. People come in all the time feeling overwhelmed by it all. They feel the whole world wants something of them they can't give. They feel powerless to change the situation or fight back. They react in all kinds of ways. All too many of them turn to drugs or alcohol, and that only makes things worse. All things considered, a little thing like bedwetting is not so bad." "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to wear…" "Diapers. You can say it. You're not weak or lazy or whatever else you are telling yourself to bring you down. It's a stress reaction, nothing more. From what Kathy tells me about your boss, I'm proud of you for not turning to something self-destructive. You just need to find a way to deal with the stress, to let it go, to feel empowered. You feel helpless, and I'm sure you think the diapers prove it. On the contrary, by wearing them, you are taking control of the situation by the best means possible. By wearing them, you're getting rest; Kathy's getting rest; the bed is staying clean and dry. The way I figure it, you've taken a big first step in getting better." "Thanks, I guess." I didn't really feel any better. "Dave," Kathy said, "I think there's something else you should consider. There's no rush, especially as we are on vacation; so, take as much time as you need. I think you should really think about quitting your job." "I can't just quit." "Not so fast, hear me out. Your boss is a bully. I'm sure he'll be found out eventually, but in the meantime, your life there is going to be miserable. I don't think you can really get better, if you stay there. You might learn to live with it, but at what cost? We've been doing alright. We don't actually need both our salaries. With a little bit of trimming, we can live on what I make. If it takes you a while to find something else, we'll make do. And I bet you could always get some work on a consulting basis. I'm not saying you have to quit, but it's an option, and you'll have my support. Just think it over." "I can't just let you support me," I protested. "You'd support me, if I had to quit, wouldn't you?" "That's different." "Why? Because you're a man? Look at the calendar. It's not the 1950s anymore. We're partners. We support each other, no matter what. If you never took another job and just stayed home and took care of the house, you'd still be supporting me. That's what we do. We have each other's back." "But I'd feel so…" "For a while, maybe," Sharon interjected, "but you'll get over that. I had a patient who went through much the same thing. He felt bad about it for a while, but once he got used to it, he loved being a househusband. He felt like he was making a real contribution. He was able to do things he never had time for. He makes a little money on the side from his hobbies. He's very happy. He says some of his friends tell him in private that they envy him." "I don't know…" "Just think about it. Take all the time you need," Kathy said. "A day, a week, a month, whatever you need, but think about it seriously. I think it would be good for you, but it's your decision. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you, but please, please, do consider it." "Alright," I said, as much to end the conversation as anything. "Good, it's settled." I didn't think it was settled at all but let it go. "Now, Sharon tells me there's an exhibition downtown that's right up your alley. Finish your coffee, and let's go." The exhibition was as good as advertised. I don't know about the girls, but I had a good time. Model trains aren't everybody's cup of tea. Kathy knew my fascination, even though I hadn't had a set since I was a kid. I think she was bored after the first ten minutes, but she let me have the run of the place to gawk over them. She and Sharon feigned interest when I explained all about the different scales and old rail lines. They smiled and nodded, and then let me run off to the next display while they hung about to talk. The rest of week was taken up with various activities. Some I enjoyed more than others, none as much as the trains. It was all a good distraction from my troubles and had me worn out by evening. Between the activity and the meds, I was getting some much-needed rest. When I woke up dry on Friday morning, I thought I was turning a corner. Kathy praised me, which actually made me feel a little worse, but I took it in the spirit it was intended and didn't say anything. That night, it was decided, we would stay in for movies and margaritas. I took it easy, because I didn't know how the alcohol would react with my meds. Kathy made up for it, drinking the rest of my share as well as her own. She was pretty toasted by the end of the evening. She knocked over her glass and cut here finger picking up broken pieces. I thought we might have to take her to the emergency room, but we got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. "Geez, that hurts," she slurred. "Um, Sharon? I'm not sure I can take care of Davey like this. Would you mind?" "What!" Sharon and I said in unison. "This really hurts, and I'm not sure I can work the tapes." "I can do it myself." "I don't know that you can, and neither do you. You've never done it before, and it has to be harder to put one on yourself than someone else. I don't want you leaking all over the place by putting it on wrong, and I'm sure Sharon doesn't either." I looked to Sharon for support, but she had an amused grin on her face. She was actually warming to the idea. "You're right, Kathy. A diaper isn't much good if it leaks all over. Sure, I'll help out. I'm sure Davey won't mind." "But…" "It's not like she hasn't seen one before," Kathy said, anticipating my protest. "And it's just this one time. I'll be better tomorrow. You two go on upstairs. I'll clean up down here." "Just put everything in the sink. You shouldn't get that finger wet. Come on, Davey. Auntie Sharon will get you ready for night-night." "That's right," Kathy laughed. "You be a good boy for Auntie Sharon." I didn't like being treated like a little boy, but I wrote it off to their inebriation. I took Sharon's outstretched hand and followed her upstairs. She went right to work getting a diaper laid out for me. I stood there unsure I could go through with it. "Take off your pants, silly. We can't do anything with those on. Here, let Auntie help." Before I could react, she was undoing my pants and pushing them down. "Why, Davey! I'm flattered, but what would your mommy say?" I was deeply embarrassed by my tumescent state, but her reaction to it only made it worse. I started to apologize, but Sharon cut me off. "Don't worry about it. Little boys are always doing that when they get their diapers changed. Now, let's get those clothes off, so we can get you all wrapped up. We wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" Sharon was obviously more drunk than I thought. I hoped she, at least, wouldn't remember this in the morning. I told myself to just get through it, and finished undressing. I lay down on the open diaper and looked away, waiting for this to be over. "Oh, it looks like baby is getting a bit of a rash, I'd better get some powder for that." She started to leave but turned right around folded the front of the diaper up over me. "Just in case. You never know with boys." She was gone for a few minutes, which was enough for me to subside a little. She had just walked in the door when we heard a thud on the stairs. "Whoopsies," we heard between giggles. "You alright out there?" Sharon asked. "Yeah, fine. Be right up." There was another, smaller thump followed by more giggles. "Right up." Sharon shook her head, smiling, and got back to work. She drew back the diaper and sprinkled the powder, quite a lot in my opinion. That brought me back to my previous state. She started to smooth it, and I whimpered. Kathy chose that moment to walk in the door. "Davey, you naughty boy! I should spank you for that." "Don't spank him. He just a little sweet on his Auntie Sharon, aren't you, baby? Besides, you know how boys are. Remember when we used to babysit my cousins?" "Yes," Kathy laughed. "Roger especially. Did he get that from his father? Your aunt is a lucky woman." "So she says." All this talk was not helping my situation, neither was the fact that Sharon was still rubbing in the powder. Kathy sat down next to me. "Is that true, baby? Do you have a little crush on Auntie Sharon? Do you like it when she rubs you down there? Oops! I guess you do!" "Oh, dear. I guess we'll have to start over. I'll go get a washcloth." Sharon went to the bathroom, while I wished I could have died right there. "I guess wearing diapers has an upside after all," Kathy giggled. I just hoped she would feel the same way when she was sober. Sharon returned with a wet washcloth and with much greater efficiency, had me cleaned up, powdered and diapered in no time. I got up to put on my pajamas and take my meds. Kathy was lying back and moaning a little. "What about you, girlfriend? Are you going to be alright, or does Auntie Sharon need to put a diaper on you too? You don't look so good." "No. I'm a big girl," Kathy slurred. "Okay, but if you're wet in the morning, you'll be the one getting the spanking." That image had me stirring again. I helped Sharon undress Kathy and get her into the bed. Sharon kissed my cheek and told me not to worry. We were all friends and more than a little drunk. I knew that wasn't true of me but recognized it was her way of saying the episode was nothing more than a little harmless fun. We said goodnight, and I climbed in next to Kathy. I don't know if my dreams were more disturbing or exciting. I do know I wasn't anxious for them to end. I had visions of Kathy squirming across Sharon's lap when I realized those sounds weren't in my head. I turned to see Kathy gone and a good size wet spot in her place. I stumbled across the hall to find my dream a reality. Kathy was sprawled face down across Sharon's lap, pleading with Sharon to stop. Her obviously wet panties lay at her feet. "I told you, you should have worn a diaper last night," Sharon said as she landed a slap to Kathy's already glowing behind. "Remember those parties in college. You should know better than to drink that much." I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. Sharon took notice of my presence. "Good morning, Davey. You see what happens to little girls who don't listen to Auntie?" "Oh no! Dave! Go away. Please." "Quiet," Sharon said with another slap. "And don't think it can't happen to little boys either. Well, young lady, have you learned your lesson yet?" "Yes. Yes!" "Alright, go get cleaned up, and bring those sheets down to be washed." Kathy scrambled off Sharon's lap and fairly ran from the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I could hear her sniffling in the bathroom. "You clean up too," Sharon instructed. "I'll start breakfast." That brought my attention to the diaper hanging low on my hips. I wasn't making as much progress as I had thought. I passed Kathy in the bathroom door. She still wouldn't look at me. She must have worked fast, because by the time I was clean and fresh, the bed was stripped, and she was nowhere in sight. I got dressed and found her in the kitchen helping with breakfast. She gave me a sheepish "good morning." I hugged her and gave her a kiss that was far more than perfunctory. That seemed to brighten her spirits. We all sat down to breakfast as if nothing had happened. I really wanted to know more about what I saw this morning but figured that wasn't the time to ask. It would keep and was probably none of my business anyway. We tidied up the dishes slowly, none of us wishing the visit to end. It was with no small amount of sadness that Kathy and I packed our things and said our goodbyes. We all promised to not wait so long till the next time, and for a change, I meant it. Despite the diapers and the embarrassment that went with them, I had a really good time. We drove in silence for quite some time. I was lost in my thoughts. There was a lot that happened that week and a lot to think about. Mostly though, I thought about what I had witnessed that morning. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Kathy? Remember what you said about elephants in the room?" "Yes," she sighed. "What happened this morning?" It took her a long time to answer. She tried to get me to drop it, but I kept bringing it back up. "You're not going to let this go, are you? Alright, fine." You know Sharon was my sorority sister, right? Well, she was actually my big sister, a sophomore assigned to show a pledge the ropes and generally look after her. One of the things she did for me was to introduce me around. She was really popular and got invited to a lot of parties, and because she did, I did. It was at one of those parties that I got introduced to alcohol. I never drank in high school, and I avoided it the first couple of parties I went to. But it had been a rough week, and I gave in when somebody stuck a cup in my hand. At first, I didn't realize there was alcohol in it. It just seemed like a really sweet punch with a funny aftertaste. I was well into my second one before I knew I was getting buzzed. It felt good. I wanted more. I kept drinking. About the time I felt like I might have had too much, Sharon found me. She told me it was time to go back to the house. I don't think I would have made it without her. I'm sure I threw up at least once on the way. I don't really remember getting back to the house and her dumping me on the bed. I do remember waking up the next morning. Sharon was shaking my leg, telling me to get up. I never knew sunlight could be so painful. It tasted like something died in my mouth, and somebody was beating my head with a hammer. I begged Sharon to let me die in peace. Instead, she pulled off my blankets. I was suddenly very cold. "Oh, geez. Get up. We need to get this stuff in the wash." "Huh?" "Get up. You peed the bed." "What?" "You peed the bed. Get up." "Oh my god. No!" I started bawling. "Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. Half the girls here did the same thing the first time they got drunk." "You?" "Me? No." "Great," I said dejectedly. "Listen, get yourself cleaned up, take some aspirin, have some coffee and toast, and then we can talk about it. Okay?" "Okay." The shower made me feel a little better. I hadn't really learned to drink coffee yet, but the toast helped some. I found Sharon back in my room. She had stripped the bed for me and turned my fan toward the mattress. I had found the rubberized fabric of the mattress strange when I first moved in. Now, I understood why the sorority used them. It was somewhat comforting to know I wasn't the only one, but I still felt ashamed. Sharon hugged me and told me not to worry about it. I was the first, and I wouldn't be the last. It happens to everyone. "It didn't happen to you." "Okay, maybe not everyone, but I've had my share of nights worshipping the porcelain god." The image of Sharon with her head in the toilet did make me chuckle and a little less embarrassed. "I swear, I'm never going to drink again." "Don't make promises you can't keep. You just have to learn to pace yourself. You have to watch those fruity drinks. They go down really easy, and before you know it, you've already had too many. You don't have to stop drinking if you don't want to. Just be careful." "Alright." I took my wet things down to the laundry room. I couldn't avoid passing some of the other girls. Most gave me sympathetic smiles, a kind of been there done that look. I was careful at the next few parties I went to. I did drink some, but I went slow and never let it get beyond a mild buzz. That ended after midterms. I felt so relieved to have made it over that hurdle, I let myself go. Sharon took me aside and told me I should ease up. I told her I was fine and bumped into a wall. She told me to remember what happened the last time. I waved her off. It was a good thing the party was at the sorority house, or I never would have made it home. As it was, Sharon found me the next morning on the floor of the bathroom. There was vomit in my hair and around the toilet bowl, and I was lying in a puddle of pee. Sharon got me on my feet and into the shower. She didn't bother with my clothes. That first burst of water was a real shock, and I thought my head would explode, and really hope that it would. As the water warmed, I started to feel human again. I got undressed and washed the assorted fluids of me. Sharon was waiting for with a towel. "Thank you," I said, drying off. "I feel awful. Never again." "You said that before. You should feel awful. You were really pounding them last night. You deserve that hangover. But listen, drinking like that isn't good for you; in fact, it's dangerous. Even if the alcohol doesn't kill you, you can do all kinds of crazy things to get hurt or let someone hurt you. And it sure isn't any fun for me, having to clean up after you." "I know. I'm sorry." "Yeah, yeah, save it. You're sorry, because you head hurts. But if you did anything to hurt the house while you were like that, it would be my ass on the line too. I'm responsible for you." "I didn't know. I'm sorry." "Well, just think about it. And think about what would happen if you got in real trouble. What if you got called in front of the dean?" I paled. "Oh my god. My mom would have my butt. I would be able to sit down for a month." "Your mom still spanks you." "Well, she did last year, when I came home an hour after curfew. She might." "Maybe that's what you deserve." Her face was passive. I couldn't tell if she meant it. "You're kidding right?" "Get drunk like that again, and we'll see." I was really good for the rest of the semester. I didn't let myself get more than a little tipsy. I did my work. My grades were good. I felt really good about myself. I had long forgotten that conversation in the shower. The end of term was my undoing. The night after finals, everyone was celebrating, including me. We had a grand old time. I again woke up with a horrible hangout and a wet bed. I was balling up the sheets when Sharon came to check on me. "You did it again, didn't you? I told you to slow down, didn't I? But do you listen? No. 'I'm fine, Sharon.' 'Go away, Sharon.' 'Mind your own business, Sharon.' And look at you now, wet sheets and pissy pants. Remember what I said after midterms?" "What? What are you talking about?" "I told you what would happen if you got this drunk again." I tried to remember, but the pounding in my head made it hard. "I told you deserved spanking then, and you'd get one the next time. This is the next time." "You can't be serious." "Oh, I'm very serious." Sharon grabbed my wrist, sat down on the bed and hauled me across her lap. A softball player, she was really strong, far stronger than me. I didn't stand a chance. "Sharon, no!" I screamed, as she whisked my panties down. She didn't say a word as she lit up my ass. I screamed and squirmed and begged, but she didn't let up until I was limp and bawling. She stood me up and held me while I cried myself out. I told her I was sorry, and I really meant it. "It's okay. It's all over now. Just don't let it happen again, or you'll get more of the same." She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes. "I love you, Kathy. I want you to be safe." She kissed me, not a kiss, kiss, but more than a peck. Then she left me to take care of my laundry and pack for the holidays. It was a long, thoughtful, and uncomfortable bus ride home. "Wow," was all I could think of. After digesting it for a bit, I couldn't help asking, "Did it ever happen again?" "The idea turns you on, doesn't it? Pervert," she chuckled. "If you must know, it did, but I'm not going into gory details." "What about that kiss? Was there more than that?" Kathy blushed and remained silent. I waited. "Okay, yes, we… experimented, nothing serious. I decided I preferred men… mostly." I filed that away. "What about Sharon?" "She's more of an omnivore," Kathy said smiling. "But that's all you're getting. Have you thought about what we talked about? Your job?" "Some. I haven't made any decisions." "Okay." The rest of the trip was idle chitchat and discussion of things we should do before the weekend was out. Although I had two more wet nights, I returned to work on Monday feeling better… for about ten minutes. That's how long it took for my boss to start in on me. He actually had the gall to berate me for taking the week off, time I had earned. That was the last straw. I spent my lunch hour writing up a formal complaint and delivering it to Human Resources. I told them, if they didn't do something about him, they could have my notice, and if they didn't want that, I'd take the sick and vacation pay I had coming, and they could have their job. The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of meetings and discussions about me and my boss. Some of them got pretty heated. A review of my work showed that I was doing my job and doing it well. In the end, though, I was low man on the totem pole, and it was decided we would all be better off, if I applied my skills elsewhere. I was given a letter of recommendation and promised my back pay would be mailed at the next payroll date. For someone who, for all practical purposes, just got canned, I felt great when I cleaned out my desk. Kathy got concerned when she came home and saw the box with my possessions by the door. "What happened?" "I got fired," I said brightly. "Well, 'mutual separation' is what they wrote down in the file." I gave her a blow by blow description of what happened that day with full color commentary. I may have embellished my part a little. "Dave, I'm so proud of you. You did the right thing. I just wish that son of a bitch got what was coming to him." "Not my problem anymore. His file is flagged. He'll get his someday. In the meantime, and for the foreseeable future, you have yourself a little housemaid." "Don't give me ideas. You might look good in a French maid's uniform. I'm just glad you are out of there. Let's go. I'm taking you out to dinner." "Shouldn't we be watching our pennies? I am out of a job now." "We will, but tonight, we celebrate. This is a new beginning." And we did, a great meal, some nice wine, and it didn't end there. We practically ran up to the bedroom, clothes flying as we went. It was the most passionate we had been in quite a while. Afterward, Kathy got me diapered and curled up next to me. "So, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you have all this time on your hands?" "I don't know. I haven't really had a chance to think about it." "You should, you know. Idle hands and all that." "I'm sure I'll think of something." "I hope so. Little boys left on their own can get into all sorts of mischief." She was rubbing the front of my diaper. "I'll be fine." "I hope so. We wouldn't want Mommy to have to spank, would we?" I chuckled. "Would we?" The question wasn't rhetorical. "No." "No, what?" "No… Mommy?" "That's right," she said, rubbing me harder. "You need to be a good boy for Mommy, or Mommy will spank." I moaned, getting my second wind. "Maybe I should get a babysitter to keep you out of trouble. Maybe Auntie Sharon would be available. She could make sure you're a good boy and change you when you are wet. I know you like that. But Auntie Sharon spanks hard; so, you'd better be good." That was it. The diaper came off for round two. I was barely awake when Kathy re-diapered me and kissed me goodnight. The first week as a stay at home husband was great. I cooked, which I enjoyed but never had time for. I did some minor repairs that I had been putting off for a while. I cleaned the house and did the grocery shopping. I didn't enjoy those so much, but they had to be done and weren't as bad as I imagined. Most of all, Kathy was really happy with me and lavished me with praise. The second week was not as good. It was harder to find things to do. Kathy noticed and brought my attention to some things that needed taking care of. By the third week, I was really starting to get bored. Kathy and I were doing some gardening that weekend, when Mrs. Travers, our neighbor across the street, a sweet older lady, came over. I never talked to her much, but she and Kathy were friends. She took Kathy aside, but I couldn't help overhearing their conversation. "I noticed David's been home a lot lately. Is everything alright." "Oh, yes. He's taking some time off, maybe thinking of a second career." "I was just concerned, the economy being the way it is and everything." "No need to worry. We're fine." "Well, if there is anything you need…" "Same here. I'm sure Dave would be happy to help you out, if you need anything." "Well, there are a few odd jobs I need done. I'd pay him, of course." "Nonsense. What are neighbors for? Dave, come here a minute." "Oh, that's all right." "Dave, Travers needs your help. You'll do that, won't you?" "Sure." "What is it you need, Mavis?" "Well, I have a leaky faucet, and the gutters need tending." "No trouble at all Mrs. Travers," I said. "Is tomorrow okay?" "That would be fine, dear, if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble at all. Ten o'clock?" "That sounds fine. Thank you so much." "It's settled then," Kathy said sealing the deal. "He'll be over at ten sharp. You remember to be a good boy for Mrs. Travers, Dave." Mrs. Travers thanked us again but gave us awkward look as she went back to her house. "You didn't need to say that." "I was just having some fun. Can't you take a joke?" I kissed Kathy goodbye the next morning, and she reminded me to be a good boy and be at Mrs. Travers' house at ten. I was there right on time, toolbox and ladder in hand. I decided to start with the gutters, before the day got too hot. They were worse than I imagined, and it took till past noon to get them cleared out. Mrs. Travers insisted on feeding my lunch. The leaky faucet turned out to be a nightmare. It was an old fixture in the guest bath. I don't think anyone had worked on it since before I was born. There was a slow but steady drip that, judging by the calcium deposits on the fixture, had been going on for a long time. It was a chore just turning the shutoff valve and getting the handle off the valve, but when I tried to take out the stem to change the washer, the whole thing snapped. I informed Mrs. Travers and told her I would buy her new hardware. After a bit of an argument, I accepted that she would pay, I insisted on doing the installation. We went to the hardware store together, so she could pick out what she wanted. On the ride she told me all about her children and grandchildren, including the fact that the middle one was still wetting the bed. I set to work on updating the sink. I soon wished that I hadn't offered my assistance. Every nut was frozen. Nothing was easy to reach. The room was so tiny, I couldn't even lie down comfortably to work. As is so often the case with plumbing, I was swearing at it under my breath. Then the wrench slipped. I hit my hand hard against a pipe. I sat up to grab it and bashed my head on the sink. I was loudly cursing a blue streak when Mrs. Travers came to check on me. I was seeing stars and didn't resist when she helped me up. She led me to the kitchen and fixed an icepack for my head. She tended to my wounded hand, applying a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid. "Sorry, dear, that's all I have. I keep them for the grandkids." The room was still spinning when Kathy came over to check on me. I had no idea it had gotten so late. She gasped when she saw me. "It's just a bump on the head, dear, but I think you'd better take him home. He's had a rough day. I'll just call a plumber to finish." "No. I can do it myself." "David, be quiet. Mavis, I'm sorry he was so much trouble for you." "Oh, no trouble. I've tended to more than one skinned knee and bruised ego. But such language!" "David, apologize to Mrs. Travers, right now." "Sorry." "I'm sorry, Mavis. It won't happen again. But please, don't waste your money on a plumber. David will come back tomorrow and finish the job." She turned to me. "And he will watch his language, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." I meant that for Mrs. Travers, but I don't think either of them took it that way. "Good. I'm sorry. He is usually much better behaved. Please let him come back." "Alright," she said reluctantly. "If it means that much to him. But it's no trouble to get a plumber." "I won't hear of it. David will be back first thing in the morning to finish what he started, and he'll be on his best behavior. If he's not, please tell me. Now, I'd better get him home and put him to bed." I handed back the icepack and stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Travers, and thank you for lunch." "It's alright, dear. Get some rest, and you'll feel better in the morning." Kathy took care of the goodbyes, and Mrs. Travers walked us to the door. I hoped she wasn't watching as Kathy gave me an earful crossing the street and landed a couple of hard swats on the seat of my pants. She took me straight upstairs. She got a diaper out and set it on the bed. She got her hairbrush and put it on top. She started undressing me and gave me a real dressing down. "I'm ashamed of you, talking that way in front of a sweet old lady. What were you thinking?" "I'm sorry. I hit my head, and it really hurt." "That's no excuse. You should know better. I have a good mind to wash your mouth out with soap." "You can't do that!" "Try me. If I ever hear something like that again, that's just what I'll do. As for right now, you're getting a good spanking to help you remember." "What? You can't." "You know very well I can. And unless you want me to use your belt on you, you'll get across my lap right now." I remembered the bite of the belt and chose to follow her instructions. She didn't start easy, and she accompanied her task with nonstop scolding. But that was nothing compared to when she started in with the brush. I wouldn't have been surprised if Mrs. Travers heard my cries from across the street. When I was bawling, Kathy told me to get up and marched me to the corner. "You stay there and think about what you did." I kept my face wedged in the corner, not wanting to incur any more of her wrath. I could hear her milling about the room, muttering. Then there was silence. "David, why is your underwear wet?" "What!" "You heard me. Why is your underwear wet?" "What? I didn't." She turned me around and held them where I could see. They were clearly damp. "Did you or did you not wet your pants?" "I don't know." "Of course, you know! Look at these!" "I guess, maybe a little. I don't remember. Maybe when I hit my head?" "That's no excuse. You can't go around wetting your pants during the day. It's bad enough you do that at night." "You said you didn't mind." "You know what I mean. But daytime accidents are a different story. Do you need to be in diapers all the time? Do I need to hire a babysitter? Maybe Mrs. Travers would like the job." "I'm sorry," I cried. "It won't happen again." "It had better not, or I'll have to rethink leaving you home alone. Lie down. You're going to bed right now." "I have to go to the bathroom." "Then go. At least, you remember some of your potty training." I lay in bed thinking about what Kathy said. She wouldn't make me wear diapers in the daytime. It was just that I hit my head. But she did it before. That didn't work out well. Seriously, she couldn't really get a babysitter. I didn't know what to think. Between conking myself and what followed, I was exhausted and didn't last long. I had strange and fitful dreams. I was soaked the next morning. Kathy was laying out clothes when I came back from the shower. "Put these on." She handed me something I didn't recognize. "What are these?" "Training pants." I turned the puffy object over in my hands. "I'm not wearing those." "Yes, you are, unless you'd prefer to wear a diaper. Of course, you'll have to bring a spare, incase Mrs. Travers needs to change you." "You wouldn't." "Would you like to discuss it with Mr. Hairbrush?" "No." "Then get dressed. You have work to do." The disposable underwear wasn't as thick or noisy as a diaper, but I still felt very conspicuous. I was feeling very contrite when Kathy rang Mrs. Travers' doorbell. "Good morning, Mavis. I brought David over to finish his work. He's going to be on his best behavior today and not give you any more trouble. If he does, I'd appreciate it if you told me. And if he needs it, you have my permission to spank him." "I'm sure that won't be necessary, dear," she said with a nervous laugh, no doubt hoping that was a joke. I knew it wasn't and blushed hotly. "Be a good boy, David. I'll see you tonight. And no swearing." It took me all day and another trip to the hardware store for new shutoff valves, but I finally got the sink done. I even managed to keep from swearing out loud. I did end up quietly crying at one point from holding it in. When it was all done, I was quite proud of myself, and Mrs. Travers was pleased. I was finishing the snack she made me, when Kathy came to take me home. "How was he today, Mavis?" "Good as gold, dear. Good as gold. I don't know what you said to him, but it did the trick. And such a good job he did. The new faucets are just beautiful." "I'm so glad to hear that. David, say thank you to Mrs. Travers." "Thank you," I mumbled, my mouth filled with cookie. "David, don't talk with your mouth full." "It's alright, dear. He deserves his reward. If I could borrow him again, I might have some other jobs for him to do?" "Anytime, Mavis. Anytime. I'm happy to have him here where somebody can keep an eye on him. But now I think it's time I get him home and fed, unless he's spoiled his appetite with your cookies." "I only had two," I complained. I saw Mrs. Travers hold up three fingers. "Well, we'll see if we can get some real food in him anyway. David, finish your milk; it's time to go." I downed the half full glass and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. I thanked Mrs. Travers for the cookies, and we headed home. Kathy told me she was proud of me for being a good boy. That made me feel good. But, she warned me, she expected no more bad behavior reports. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Then she stuck her hands down the front of my pants. "Just checking. Seems a little damp down there. Drop 'em." "I didn't. I swear." "You'd better not swear. Now, let's see those training pants." She unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants to my feet. She pulled the disposable underwear—I preferred the euphemism—inside out and down where she could get a good look. "Hmm. Definitely a little damp, but maybe it's just sweat. You could do a better job wiping though." She pulled them back up and went to make dinner. I was left standing with my pants at my ankles, wondering what just happened. The evening was business as usual. At bedtime, she said her little boy deserved a reward for being so good all day. I got it too, and how. Kathy had another pair of training pants out the next day. "Why do I have to wear these? I stayed dry yesterday." "I think you know why." "No, why?" "Because Mommy says so." She wrapped her arms around me and gave my bottom a squeeze. "And little boys who do what Mommy says get rewarded." She gave me a smack. "And you know what happens to little boys who don't." I quickly put on the paper pants. "Good boy. Get dressed. Mommy has to go to work." I tidied up around the house and puttered in the garden a little. I couldn't help but think about the night before and what Kathy implied that morning. I went to the store and bought a roast, hoping a nice dinner would earn me another of her rewards. With dinner in the oven, I was at a loss for what to do. I sat down to watch some TV and was soon asleep, dreaming of "Mommy." "Oh, David!" I sat straight up. "Get up, quick." I stood up, and that's when I felt it. The training pants were leaking. "Go change. I'll take care of this." I could hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice. I came back to find her laying towel over the cushion. I told her I was sorry. "It wasn't too bad. I think I got it in time. Let's just eat. It smells wonderful." It was good, if I do say so myself. Kathy's praise for it was effusive. Then she turned serious. "David, what we going to do? I know you can't help your bedwetting, and that's alright. It really is, and we're dealing with it. But what are we going to do about this wetting in the daytime? It's obvious the training pants aren't up to the job." "I'm sorry. I wasn't even planning on going to sleep." "That's my point. If you're going to drop off like that, you could end up ruining the furniture." "I'll just stay awake. That's all." "You didn't today." "But now, I know I have to." "David, I don't want to deprive you of your sleep. If you need a nap, you should be able to take one." "I could put a diaper on myself," I suggested. "Yes, I do think we need to teach you to do that. But that's only going to help if you know you are going to sleep. What about days like today, when you just drop off?" "I don't know." "I think there's only solution that's really practical." I didn't like the sound of that. "You're just going to have to have a nap every day. That way, you won't just be nodding off unprotected." "But I don't need a nap every day." "I'm sorry, but I don't see any way around it. Unless you prefer I get a sitter who can make sure you stay awake or gets you diapered?" "No, I don't want that." "Then you'll just have to start taking naps. Do the dishes, and we'll see if we can teach you how to put on a diaper by yourself. And use the potty. We don't need any accidents in the middle of the lesson." That was it; the discussion was closed. I met her upstairs when the dishes were done. She had several diapers stacked up on the bed. "Why so many?" "It might take you a few tries to get it on right, and the tapes on these don't take repositioning well. If you mess up, we'll have to start from scratch. Here, let me help you get undressed." She kissed me while she unbuttoned my shirt. I thought we'd get to the instructions part later, and it showed. No such luck. "Okay. The first thing is to unfold the diaper and lay it out like this." "I could have guessed that." "Don't get smart; just listen. Now you lie down on top. You know how to do that already. Well, go on; I can't very well teach you this while you're standing up. Good. Now, lift your bottom and take the bottom two tapes. That's it. Now, move the diaper so the tapes are at the bend in your hips. No, a little higher. Let me feel. That's it. Good boy. Put your bottom down. Now, pull the front up and put the tapes on, snug as you can without stretching anything. Don't let the diaper move, or you'll have to start again. No, no, don't pull the front over so far; keep it centered. That's it. Good job. Now, tuck in all of the side flaps. That's right; we don't want those sticking out. Now, we do the top tapes, nice and snug. Very good! Stand up and let me check you. My goodness, you did so good, and on your first try! We'll just tuck these parts under to make sure nothing gets out. There, all ready for bed." I don't know what the all the fuss was about. It's not like it was brain surgery. Still, she managed to make me feel proud of myself. I reached to undo the tapes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I'm taking it off." "Why? It's on there so nice." "It's early, and I'm not sleepy." "Well, there's no sense in wasting it. If you take it off, we'll just have to throw it away. Just leave it on. Mommy will make it worthwhile," she teased. "Really?" I said hopefully. "Uh huh," she said, unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay." She knew what I liked. She didn't often let me spend much time with her titties, but that night, she let me suck and play with them to my heart's content. Meanwhile, she pleasured herself. "Oh, baby!" she cried out after her third orgasm. "You make Mommy feel so good." She brought my face to hers and kissed me deeply. I was looking forward to the main event. "We'll have to let you nurse more often. That was fantastic. Are you ready to go night-night, or do you want to watch some television?" "Aren't we going to… you know?" "Baby, what did I say about wasting diapers? That's not coming off until morning, unless you need a change before. So, what's if going to be, bed or TV?" I would have wet myself if I could have, but the state she had me in prevented it. "TV, I guess," I said with a pout. "Aw, don't be that way. If you're a good boy, maybe Mommy will let you nurse some more before bed." That cheered me a little. We put on our nightclothes and went downstairs. Even though Kathy picked out a movie that would appeal more to me than to her, I was still a bit sullen. Kathy noticed. "What's the matter, sweetie? Do you still want Mommy's titty? Come here, baby." She had me lie down with my shoulders in her lap. She supported my head with her arm, braced by the arm of the sofa. She pushed her nightgown out of the way. "Be gentle. Mommy's still tender from before." It wasn't what I really wanted, but it was still nice. I had seen the movie several times before. I could see it in my head just from the dialogue. Kathy was idly rubbing my chest and belly. It was very relaxing. I felt a twinge in my bladder and figured, what the heck? It wasn't like she was going to let me go to the bathroom anyway. It took some effort, but I did manage to overcome my resistance and let the liquid flow. Kathy must have noticed a change in me. She stuck her had inside my pajama pants and squeezed my diaper. "Good boy," she murmured, and she continued to rub down there. I was actually getting turned on. I was starting to squirm, trying to get a little more pressure on the front to the diaper. My suckling became more passionate, and I reached up to play with the other breast. I felt a slap on my padded behind. "Mommy said 'gentle.' If you can't be nice, I'm going to put you to bed." That brought about a definite pout from me. "Don't be like that; you were told. Let's get you turned around and you can have the other side for a while, but be nice." "Okay," I sighed. "What was that?" Yes… Mommy." "That's better. You just nurse nicely while we finish the movie. Then Mommy will get you tucked in." I was more on my side this time, and Kathy rubbed my back and bottom. I think I must have drifted off, because Kathy was telling me it was time for bed. I got my bearings and sat up. I didn't think I had been that wet when we switched breasts. Kathy took my hand and led me upstairs. She took off my pajama pants and said she was right; I would need a change before bed. She laid me down and untaped the used but not soggy garment. I asked to use the bathroom. "Really? I wouldn't think you had any more in you right now." "For… the other." "Oh, yes, of course. Go make poopies, and then we'll get you set for night-night." She patted my naked bottom as I went. She didn't really have to put it that way, I thought. I wasn't gone long, but she had a new diaper laid out, as well as some powder. "What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the powder. "It will make you more comfortable, and it will make you smell nice." "It'll make me smell like a baby." "Exactly, is there anything that smells better than a freshly changed baby? Besides, at the moment, you are acting like one. You may as well smell the part." "You know I can't help it. It's the stress. And those pills make me so sleepy, I don't know…" "That's not what I meant. You've been cranky and moody all night. Lie down, so Mommy can get your dipee on." I lay down, but not without telling her I didn't appreciate the baby talk. "You liked it well enough when we were playing here a while ago." She took a wet wipe and ran it up my butt crack. "And if this is the kind of job you do wiping yourself, maybe you are one. Does Mommy have to help you when you make a stinky in the potty?" "Kathy!" I complained. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding… for now, but make sure you do a better job in the future. If I'm going to have to clean your poopy bottom anyway, I may as well keep you in diapers full time." I gasped. "Relax. I didn't say I was going to do it…. I just haven't ruled out the possibility," she said with a grin that was either playful or threatening. I couldn't tell which. She powdered me nicely, but I was disappointed that she stopped when I started to stir. She finished the rest of the process efficiently and soon had me tucked in. She got in beside me and had me face her. "Unless we run into some problems, here are the rules from now on. I want you to lie down every afternoon around one o'clock. A little bit earlier, a little bit later, doesn't matter, as long as it's not past two. Whatever you might be planning that would take longer than that can wait until after you rest. I want you in a diaper when you lie down. You showed me you can do it yourself, and I feel better knowing you are protected. If you wet while you are napping, go ahead and put your pull-ups back on. If you don't, I want you to keep the diaper on until you use it; that way it's not wasted, and I know you aren't cheating. If you don't sleep at naptime, I want you in a diaper until I get home. I can't have you falling asleep without one on. If you have to change once or twice before I get back, that's okay, but no wasting. If I find you aren't taking your naps or you are running around without a diaper when you should have one on, Mommy will spank, understand?" I nodded, wide eyed. For some reason, I was getting aroused. "Say, 'yes, Mommy.'" "Yes, Mommy." "Good boy. And remember, good boys who do what Mommy says get rewards." She kissed me. "Night-night, baby." "Night-night, Mommy," I yawned. I started to plan out my day for tomorrow, but I was off to dreamland. I had finished mowing the lawn, and working on pulling some weeds, when I heard a car pull into the driveway. I wasn't pulling weeds anymore. I was pushing trucks around a sandbox. "Mommy!" I yelled. "There's my little man," Kathy beamed. But her face turned cold. "Davey, just look at you." I looked down. My hands were filthy, and there was sand stuck to the wet front of my little shorts. I looked up surprised. "David, did you take your nap today?" "I wasn't sleepy." "Where's your diaper?" "I forgot," I said sheepishly. "You forgot? What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" "Um…" "I said I wanted you to go down for a nap at one o'clock and to make sure you put your diaper on." "I didn't know it was so late." "Is that so? Did you not know you need to go potty either? "I…" "Davey, I'm very disappointed in you. Get in the house this instant." I ran in the house and was almost through the kitchen. "Stop right there, mister. Take off those filthy clothes. You're not going track sand all through the house." I didn't want to. Getting undressed in the kitchen meant I would have to walk right past the picture window to get upstairs. "But…" "No buts," she said, striding over and pulling my shirt right over my head. She made quick work of my sandals and shorts and left me standing in a drooping pull-up. She shook her head and started pulling it down. She gasped when she saw a small, firm poop inside. She got it off me and balled it up "David, you naughty, naughty boy. Get upstairs right now. You need a bath." She turned me around and planted a stinging slap on my damp bottom. I ran up the stairs, no longer caring if I was seen. Kathy was not far behind. "Sit on the potty and try to go poopy." She started the bath and added some sweet-smelling bubbles. "Honestly, I thought you were a big boy. I thought I could trust you. Did you go?" I shook my head. I was getting teary, because she was mad at me. "Get in the tub. This discussion isn't over, but you're just too filthy to deal with at the moment." I jumped in the tub, hoping compliance would earn me a few points. She scrubbed me from head to toe. "I have no idea how one little boy can get so dirty? How did you get sand in there?" I didn't know either, and I felt bad I was making work for her. She was hardly gentle, and I was glad when she finished. She dried me just as roughly, then ordered me into the bedroom. "What have you got to say for yourself?" she demanded. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry is not an excuse. Did you deliberately disobey me, or are you too much of a baby to leave on your own? I think I'm going to have to have Mrs. Travers come over and watch you during the day." "I don't need a babysitter," I whined. "I'm a big boy." "Then you are a naughty, disobedient boy, and I know just how to deal with that," she said, snatching up her hairbrush and hauling down across her lap. "I told you what would happen, if you didn't listen to Mommy. You have no one to blame but yourself." "Mommy, no!" My bottom was quickly ablaze. I was screaming out apologies and promising to be good. I was bawling my eyes out and shaking. No, I wasn't shaking. I was being shaken. "David, David, Wake up." I shouted something incoherent. I looked around. It was dark. I saw Kathy. I threw my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry! I won't wet my pants again. I'll take my nap. I'll wear my diapers. Don't spank me. I'm sorry!" I sobbed and sobbed. Mommy… Kathy held and shushed me. "There, there, baby, it's all over now. It was just a bad dream. Mommy loves you. You're Mommy's good boy; yes, you are. Let's get you changed, so we can go back to sleep." I was soaked, but Kathy took care of it like it was nothing. She made such short work of it; I didn't even become fully conscious. I just followed her instructions, lifting up when she asked, and I was soon dry and nuzzling her. "No, baby. Mommy's sore. Try to go back to sleep. Mommy will see about buying you a baba and a binky tomorrow." That thought didn't register enough to consciously think about it, but it did sink in enough that I dreamt of nursing from a giant bottle. My thumb was wrinkled when I woke up. The night must have been harder on me than I realized. I had no trouble putting on a diaper and taking a nap the next day or the day after. Kathy made me show her the used diapers when she saw I was wearing pull-ups. She praised me for being a good boy. The day after that, try as I might, I just couldn't fall asleep. I went ahead and wet the diaper, so I could show Kathy I hadn't wasted it, but then I put on a pull-up and went about the rest of my afternoon. We sat down to watch TV after dinner. I was nodding off before the first commercial. "David?" "Hmm?" I asked groggily. "David, did you have a nap today?" "Mm-mm," I acknowledged. "Is that a no?" I nodded. "Then where's your diaper?" "Used it." "I know that, but why don't you have one on now?" "Don' need one." "That's not the rule, and you know it. Get up. You're going to bed right now." "Wanna stay up with you." "Nothing doing. You get upstairs right now, unless you want to go to bed with a sore bottom." That woke me up. "But it's early," I whined. "David, I'm warning you for the last time." "Okay, I'm going," I huffed and all but stomped out of the room. "And use the potty. I'll be up in a minute to put your diaper on." I did as I was told; I did have to go. Kathy came in and laid out a diaper while I was getting undressed. Before I knew it, she had me squared away and tucked in. Seemingly out of nowhere, she stuck bottle in my mouth. "Leave that there. I bought it as a joke, but maybe it's appropriate after all. You know the rules, David. It was very naughty of you to break them. I feel like you lied to me. I'm very disappointed in you." That stirred up memories of my nightmare. "We will talk about this in the morning. In the meantime, drink your baba and go to sleep. I expect it to be empty when I come to bed. I'm very upset with you right now." I was upset too, as much with myself as being made to drink from a baby's bottle. Still, I was tired and didn't last long. I woke up briefly to find the bottle being replaced in my mouth and held there. The next thing I remember was Kathy's waking me to get changed and "have a talk." I came back from the bathroom to time a diaper waiting on the bed. Kathy was sitting next to it, hairbrush in hand. I immediately protested. "I get it. I'm sorry. If I don't take a nap, I'll wear a diaper till you say so. You don't have to do this." "You'll get it alright. And I do have to do this, because it seems the only time you listen to me is when you're face down over my lap. Get over here now." I reluctantly went and climbed into position. She didn't waste any time in starting to warm my seat. "You deliberately disobeyed me, and then you pretended like you took a nap. You thought you were real smart, didn't you? Thought you could fool me into thinking you took a nap, didn't you? What do you think would have happened if you fell asleep before I got home? I'll tell you what would have happened; you would have wet your pants and made a royal mess, that's what. You are a naughty, naughty, little boy. Lying to Mommy, Mommy is so angry with you. Are you going to make me have to hire a sitter for you? Is that what I have to do, because Mommy's little boy can't be trusted?" "No! Please, don't! I'll be good. I promise!" She stopped spanking. "Alright, fine, I'll give you one more chance. Get up, and let's get your diaper on. You are in diapers all day, and I do mean all day. I'm going to call you from time to time, and you had better be wearing your diaper, because you are going to send me a picture to prove it, and if you aren't wearing one, or it takes longer than I think it should for you to send it, you won't sit down for a week, and I will find you that sitter. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes." "Excuse me?" "Yes, Mommy. Yes." "Good. Now, get your nose in that corner." She left for a few minutes. "I set up your computer with the webcam on, and I set an alarm. Don't you dare move until the alarm goes off. I may not be able to watch you all the time, but you won't know when I do. So, you'd better be on your best behavior and do exactly as Mommy says, understood?" "Yes, Mommy," I said dejectedly. "I do love you, baby, but you have to be a good boy and do what Mommy says, okay?" "Okay." "That's my good boy." She kissed and hugged me. "Okay, nose back in the corner, and don't move till the alarm goes off. Remember; Mommy's watching." She turned me around and patted my behind. I was left with my thoughts. I hoped not for too long. That hope didn't last. With no frame of reference but my own world, which was defined by the two walls I got to stare at, the seconds ticked slowly. I got to dwell on why I was standing there. Because Mommy, I mean Kathy, was mean. No, she wasn't; I did this to myself. Why couldn't I have handled things better? I could have stood up to my boss. I could have gone to HR sooner. I could have quit. Why didn't I? Because I was afraid. What good would that have done? I'd have just been out of a job sooner. Why did I have to start that again? And why wasn't it stopping. I got rid of the stress. I quit. But I still couldn't keep dry. It's no wonder Kathy treated me like a baby. Why did she do that? Why wouldn't she, when I was in diapers every night. Some Man. But it was kind of nice. It felt good to be snuggled. It felt really good to be suckled. She was actually being really nice… when she wasn't spanking me. Why did she have to do that? And why didn't I stop her? What was I supposed to do, hit her back? I couldn't do that. And it's not like I didn't bring them on myself. I didn't listen. Why should I have to listen? I'm a grown man. But I was acting like a little boy. A little boy who can't keep his pants dry. And so, it went on until the alarm chimed. Less than a minute later, Kathy called. "You stayed in the corner the whole time. Good boy. I knew you could listen when you wanted to. The webcam is still on. Show me your diaper." I positioned myself and the camera so she could look. "Still dry. Good. I have to get back to work now. I'll call and check on you a little later. Be a good boy for Mommy, and get your chores done. I'll talk to you before naptime. I love you, sweetie. Bye-bye." She hung up before could get a word in. There was nothing for it but to get on with my day. I wasn't very hungry, but coffee was welcome. I puttered around, taking care of what I had to, making the bed, doing the laundry and dishes. I wet myself a little; there didn't seem any point in holding it. Kathy called around eleven. "Hi, baby. How's your day going? Are you being a good boy?" "Yes, Mommy. I'm almost done with my chores." "That's my good baby. Speaking of which. Send me a picture of your diaper." I snapped a pic and sent it to her. "Just a little wet. You'll be fine till nap time. Mommy needs to get back to work. I want you to find some more things to do around the house. You're still on punishment; so, no TV or computer till Mommy says so. But make sure the webcam is facing the bed. I may want to check in on you during your nap. Be a good boy. I love you, baby. I'll talk to you later." Now facing a day of boredom, I looked for things to do. I vacuumed the carpets and washed the floors. That kept me busy until lunchtime. I had a sandwich and a soda. By that time, I was looking forward to a change. When the phone rang, I thought it was Kathy. "Hi, Mom…" "David, it's Mrs. Travers across the street. Could you come help me, please?" "I'd be happy to Mrs. Travers, but right now isn't a very good time. May later this afternoon?" It was getting close to one o'clock, and Kathy was going to want me in bed. "I'm sorry, David. It really can't wait. The toilet is backing up, and I can't stop it. Please help." She sounded desperate. I was torn over what to do. "David, are you there?" "Yes," I said stupidly, coming out of my head. "Yes, Mrs. Travers. Let me just grab some tools, and I'll be right over." "Thank you, David. You're a lifesaver." The first order of business was to call Kathy. I needed to tell her what was going on. Her cell went straight to voicemail. I didn't want to just leave a message; so, I called her office. "Ms. Henderson's office. May I help you?" "Hi, Mandy. It's David." "Oh, hi, David. I hear you're taking some time off. That must be so great. I wish I could do that." "Mandy," I broke in. "I need to speak to Kathy. Could you put me through please?" "I'm sorry I can't. She's in a meeting, and she said no interruptions, unless it's life and death. It's not, is it?" "No… um… just have her call me, will you?" "Sure thing. Is everything alright?" "Um… fine. You have her call. Thanks." I put on my baggiest sweats and hoped they'd hide what was under them. I threw my snake, a plunger, some wrenches, and a couple of kinds of pliers in a duffle and headed across the street to Mrs. Travers. "David, hurry, hurry. It's getting worse!" I followed the sound of running water until I saw it. How did she let it get this far? The bathroom was flooded, and it was flowing out into the hallway. I stuck my phone in a pocket of the duffel and set the bag down in a spot near the door that was still dry. "Get me all the towels you can. Clean, dirty, doesn't matter. Quick!" She brought me a couple of kitchen towels. "No, bath towels. The bigger the better. And as many as you can carry." This time, she understood. I tossed them around the room, and they were saturated as soon as they hit the floor. "Have you got more?" She nodded. "Get them. All of them." I squatted beside the toilet and tried to turn the shutoff valve. Nothing. I grabbed a pair of channel locks from my bag and tried to muscle the knob again. Before the valve finally budged, I was afraid the strain would make me poop my pants. I did pee them a little. Thank heaven that didn't happen. I was making some headway, when my phone rang. I had to get the water off; so, I ignored it. Was it really necessary to put so many threads on these stupid valves? The phone rang again. Again, I ignored it. I could hear the flow slowing. I was getting close. Like the sink, this valve was long unused and heavily corroded. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to turn that last little bit without breaking it off. The phone was ringing again. "Mrs. Travers! Could you answer my phone for me? I kind of have my hands full." I could see her looking at it like it was a snake in her hand. "Just slide your finger up the screen. That's it. And hit the button that says 'Answer.'" "David, where the hell are you," I could hear Kathy's voice all the way across the room. "You're not in your bed, and I've been calling and calling. What is going…" "Kathy, dear." Mrs. Travers found her voice and near shouted. "It's Mavis. David can't talk right now…. No, he's fine. It's my toilet. It was flooding the house. David was a godsend, coming over to fix it…. Is he what? Well, yes, he is. There was quite a lot of water on the floor…. Oh…. Oh my…" I didn't hear any more. Mrs. Travers had wandered down the hall. I still needed to get the water shut down. The valve finally did close, and I shouted for Mrs. Travers to let her know. Nothing. I threw the soggy towels into the bathtub and used the last couple of dry ones to make a relatively dry spot to work. I took the lid off the tank to see why it was running like that. The arm on the old ball float had corroded right off. Always when there's a clog, I thought to myself. I got my snake to start working on the clog. It didn't go very far. It hit an obstruction almost immediately. Whatever it was, it was hard. I pulled the snake out, and a fair amount of toilet paper came with it. I went back it and hit the object again. I tried to dislodge it with the snake, but it wouldn't move forward, and I couldn't get the spring to snag it. There was nothing for it but to do it manually. I pushed up my sleeve, knelt down, and plunged my hand into the cold water. I tried really hard not to think about where my hand was or what it might find. I pulled out more toilet paper and gagged a little. In again, I felt the object. There was more paper around it, but I able to get my fingers around it. It was wedge in pretty tight, but it broke free, and the water in the bowl quickly went down. I swished off the paper and found a toy car. "I found the problem," I shouted. No reply. Where did she go? "Mrs. Travers?" I yelled. "I'm going to have to go to the hardware store. You need a new float valve." "You got it fixed. Thank heaven." I must have jumped a foot. I wasn't expecting her to be right there. "Almost," I said, trying to get my heart back where it belonged. "I'm going to need some parts." "Dear, oh dear, look at you. You're soaked to the skin. Come with me. I have some dry things you can change into." "That's okay. I can just run home." "Nonsense. You'll catch your death. Come." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bedroom. I stopped short, when I got to the door. There, on the bed were some my clothes, and sitting right on top was a diaper. I almost didn't hear Mrs. Travers speaking. "Kathy told me about your little problem, dear. I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry about taking you away from your nap. How about we get you into something dry? Then you can have a snack and a little lie down before you go to the store." Before I knew it, Mrs. Travers pulled my sweats to my feet. "Mrs. Travers!" I shouted. "My, you are soaked to the skin, aren't you? Don't worry. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy." She was guiding me toward the bed and pushing me down. "What's that you have in your hand? Oh, Matthew, that boy! You can keep that, if you want, Davey. Matthew won't be getting it back. But let's give it a wash first. We know where it's been." She gingerly took the car and set it aside. Then she reached for the tapes on my diaper. "Mrs. Travers, no! I mean, I can do this myself." "No need to fret, dear. Mr. Travers had the same problem toward the end. I'm an old hand at this." "But…" "It's the least I can do, dear. And I told Kathy I'd take good care of you this afternoon. Just lie still, and we'll have you nice and dry in no time." I tried to squirm and push her hands away. She slapped mine. "We'll have none of that nonsense. Kathy gave me permission to spank you the last time you were here. Don't make me have to do it." I looked at her wide-eyed. She gave me a look that said not to tempt her. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was someplace, anyplace else. That didn't work very well, since I had to lift while she got everything adjusted. She did make short work of it after that, and she was pulling my shoes, socks and sweats off my feet. I sat there dumbfounded, as she changed my shirt, put socks on my feet and had me step into my pants. "There," she said, satisfied, "all dry. Come on down to the kitchen. You can have some cookies and a nice glass of milk." She thanked me profusely while I ate. She made very good cookies. I reached for another. "Uh-uh," he said, as she took away the plates. "What would Kathy say, if I spoiled your appetite? Finish your milk, and we'll put you down for a nice little nap." "But I need to go to the hardware…" She cut me off, wiping my face with a damp cloth. "Plenty of time for that after your nap. I promised Kathy, and there won't be any more discussion about it. Come along." She took my hand and led me to a different bedroom, one she obviously kept for the grandkids. There was a wide assortment of toys and cartoon bedding. Whether very young, a bit older, girl or boy, whoever stayed in this room would feel comfortable and loved. Mrs. Travers pulled back the covers on the twin bed and told me to get in. I reluctantly did as she asked and immediately noticed the crackle of a waterproof cover. She tucked me in and, out of habit, pulled up a side rail. She tittered realizing what she had done. "Oh, well, better safe than sorry." She kissed my forehead. "You have a nice sleep, and when you get up, maybe Nana Mavis will let you have that cookie. Sleep tight, Davey." With that she was gone. What had I gotten myself into? I wanted to talk to Kathy, but I didn't know where my phone was, and she probably arranged this anyway. How was I going to look Mrs. Travers in the face after today? And what might she tell the other neighbors? I needed to get out of this predicament. I needed to get over this stupid wetting problem and find a new job. At least I'd be away from home more. I yawned. The morning was catching up with me. A little nap wouldn't hurt, and I was kind of stuck for now anyway. "Wakey, wakey," Mrs. Travers sang cheerily. "Time to get up." "Huh?" I tried to get my bearings. Why was I in a child's room? Oh yeah. "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked, letting down the rail. She shocked me by sticking her fingers in the waistband of my diaper. "Not too wet. You should be fine till your Mommy gets home." "I need to get to the store." I needed to get out of there. "That will have to wait. I talked to Kathy, and she should be here soon. You can finish up tomorrow. How about that cookie? It will be our little secret." It turned out not to be a secret. I was biting into a second one, when Kathy came in. For some reason, I felt guilty. "How was he for you today, Mavis? I know how he can be when there's plumbing involved." "A perfect angel, Kathy. Weren't you, Davey? He's just having a little snack as a reward for coming to my rescue." "I'm glad to hear that. I just hope he hasn't spoiled his dinner. A growing boy can't live on milk and cookies." "I expect he'll be fine. I'm sure he worked up quite an appetite." "Well, we'd best be off. I'll send him over in the morning to finish up. You don't mind watching him, do you?" "Not at all dear. He's my good little helper." "Thank you, Mavis. Come on, Dave. Let's go make some supper." "Oh, Davey, don't forget your car. It's all clean now. He can have it, can't he, Kathy?" "Of course. What do you say, David?" "Thank you, Mrs. Travers." I didn't need to be reminded, for gosh sake. "You're welcome, Davey. Maybe tomorrow, we can make some cookies together?" She winked. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. We'll talk to you tomorrow." Kathy took me by the hand and led me home. "That was very nice of you, helping Mrs. Travers like that. I was so worried, when I couldn't find you." "I did call." "I know. I should have checked my messages first. That's my fault. Do you like your toy?" "What? Oh, yeah, I guess," I said, setting it down. "It was very nice of Mrs. Travers to give it to you." "I know. But can you stop talking to me like I'm a child?" "I'm just saying it was nice." "But you told me to say thank you, and you're talking about my working over there like your dropping me off at daycare." "Still a bit cranky after your nap." "I'm not cranky! And I don't need naps. I'm not a baby, damn it." "Don't take that tone with me. And no more potty mouth, unless you want it washed out. How's your diaper holding out, by the way?" "It's fine. Why did you make me wear it all day anyway? Now Mrs. Travers knows, and she'll probably tell everybody. It's not like I don't have enough problems. I don't have a job anymore, and I can't stop wetting the bed, and now everybody's gonna think I'm a big baby, just like you and Mrs. Travers do. It's not fair!" Tears were running down my face. "Why does it have to be like this?" Kathy took me in her arms, and I sobbed. It was all too much. I felt a warm wetness gather around my bottom, and I cried all the harder. "Shh. Shh. I know, baby. I know. It's all overwhelming, isn't it? It's going to be okay. I promise. I had a long talk with Mrs. Travers this afternoon. I explained the whole thing, and she understands. She just wants to help, and she won't tell a soul; I promise. I don't want you to worry about a thing. I know you're not a baby. But you've been through a lot lately, and I want to take care of you. I want you to let all the hurt go. I think that bully of a boss did more damage than you realize. And trying to put up a brave front and hide what it was doing only made it worse. I think you need to let go of everything and let me handle things for a while. Can you be a big, brave boy and trust Mommy to look after you until you're better?" I nodded. "That's my little man. You just let Mommy be in charge for a while, and she'll make it all better. You just be Mommy's little helper, and don't worry about the mean people anymore. You can help Mrs. Travers too. She needs lots of help now that her husband is gone. She doesn't mind that you are having potty problems any more than Mommy does. We know that even big boys have trouble with the potty sometimes. You just do what we ask, and we'll take care of the rest. Can you do that for me, baby? Will you do that for Mommy?" "I guess." I was emotionally drained. I couldn't fight it anymore. "Promise me, baby. Promise me you'll listen to Mommy and Mrs. Travers and let us take care of you." "I promise." "I promise, what?" "I'll listen." "Listen to who, baby?" "Mommy and Nana Mavis." I sat up at hearing that name come out of my mouth. Kathy looked shocked, but her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "That's right, baby. Mommy and Nana will take good care of you. Are you hungry?" I was caught off guard by the question, but I was, in fact. I nodded. Kathy squeezed the front of my diaper. "Then let's get you fed, but first somebody needs a change." Kathy took me upstairs, then made a detour into the bathroom. When she was down to the diaper, she asked if I had made poopies that day. I hadn't. "Sit on the potty, and try to make a boom-boom for Mommy. I'll be right back." I was getting ready to wipe when she came back… naked. She turned on the shower. She took the paper from my hand and told me to stand up. "Good job! Turn around." She bent me over and wiped me. "Okay, get in the shower. You've been playing with toilet water all day and not the good kind. Mommy needs to clean you up." It was nice showering together. It had been a long time since we did that. All that soaping and scrubbing led to other things, and we had to start over. We basked in the afterglow under the water. "I'm confused. One minute, you're wiping me like I'm three years old, the next you're…" I grinned and pulled her closer. "You may need a mommy right now, but you are still my husband, and don't you forget it. I haven't. But now it's time to get the baby dressed and fed. Get out, and Mommy will dry you." I had the best night's sleep in many weeks, wet but restful. Kathy woke me lovingly, and she was laying out my clothes when I came back from the shower. "No diaper?" "Of course not, sweetie. Your punishment is over. It's back to the regular rules. You'll wear your training pants until naptime, unless you'd rather a diaper. It's okay if you do." "No, training pants are good. But what about Mrs. Travers? What if she notices a difference? How am I going to explain why I was wearing a diaper yesterday but not today?" "Don't worry, baby? Mommy already talked to Nana, and she knows all about it. That's the other reason you can go back to wearing training pants. Nana will be there to make sure you don't fall asleep without your diaper on." "Does that mean I have to go back to wearing diapers when I get finished with her bathroom?" "I expect you'll be busy with her all day. We'll just see how it goes. Okay, sweetie?" "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "Don't pout, honey. You're going to have lots of fun with Nana. I promise." I went to my workshop and got a tubing cutter. I was going to replace that old shutoff valve as well as the float. Kathy was waiting by the door with an overnight bag. "What's that?" I asked. "Just some extra supplies, you never know." We went out, and I started to turn toward the car. "No, baby, this way. Nana will take you to the store." Mrs. Travers was waiting for us. The door opened as we approached. "Why, hello, Davey," she said, a little too brightly. "All ready to get to work?" "Yes, ma'am." "Oh, don't be so glum. You did the hard part yesterday, didn't you? You're such a good helper. You'll have it all fixed in no time, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." "Now, now. No need to be so formal. We're good friends now, aren't we? What did we agree my name was?" I hadn't agreed to anything, but I knew what was expected. "Nana Mavis." "That's right!" she beamed. "And Nana's going to take very good care of you. And if you're a very good boy, Nana has a big surprise for you later. Won't that be fun?" I looked at Kathy, hoping she would intervene on my behalf. Instead she gave me a small nod and a look that said go along with it. "Yes, Nana." "That's my good boy. Come in. come in. Have you had breakfast yet? Nana can't have you working on an empty stomach." "I'm sorry, Mavis. I didn't have time to feed him this morning. I really am running late." "That's alright, dear. He can eat with Nana. I'm just sorry you can't join us." "Me too, but I do have to run. Here's his bag. It should have anything you might need. David, you be a good boy for Nana today, and I'll see you after work. Thank you again, Mavis." Kathy kissed both me and Nana… Mrs. Travers on the cheek and took her leave. "Well, Davey, we've got a big day ahead of us. I think that calls for pancakes. How about you?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Then have a seat. They'll be coming right up. But first, maybe you should go potty." I blushed and mumbled, "I don't have to right now." "I think you should try anyway. For Nana?" "Alright." I headed off to the sill working guest bath. "That's a good boy. Don't forget to flush and wash your hands." I don't know what Kathy told her, but Mrs. Travers was taking to her role as Nana more enthusiastically than I was comfortable with. I suppose it wasn't hurting anyone, maybe my pride a little bit. On the other hand, she was being really nice. It's not every day I get someone to make pancakes for me, and bacon from the smell of it. I made an honest effort of it, but I didn't have to go. I flushed and washed anyway. "Just in time. I have your plate all ready for you." I half expected it to be already cut up. Instead, she had poured one large and two small circles of batter, making the shape of a famous mouse. I had to smile at that. She set the plate down in front of me, tucked a napkin into my shirt, and kissed me on the forehead. "Be careful with the syrup. Use both hands." That annoyed me a little, but I bit my tongue and used both hands. I don't know if using only one would have made any difference, but the syrup did pour faster than expected, and my pancake was fairly swimming in it. "Oh, somebody has a sweet tooth," she said, setting a large glass of milk in front of me. "Eat up, there's plenty more where that came from." "May I have some coffee, Nana?" "Coffee? Are you sure? Oh, heavens, of course. But drink your milk too. It's good for you." She made excellent pancakes, light, crispy around the edges. I had seconds and bacon and thirds. I had to soak up all that syrup after all. I was stuffed. "Such a good eater," she said, astonished. "Aren't you going to have some?" "Oh, no, dear," I had something earlier. Is your tummy full? Would you like something else?" "No, thank you. I couldn't eat another bite. It was delicious." "You're welcome, sweetheart. It's nice to cook for someone again. I suppose you'll be wanting to go to the hardware store?" "After that meal, not so much. But I do need to get some things to finish fixing the toilet." "I'll go freshen up and then we can go. Do you need to use the potty?" "No, Nana," I sighed. "I'm fine." "Okay," she said uncertainly and went about her business. I poured myself another half cup of coffee. I was wondering what was taking so long, when she came back with her hair a little spruced up and a touch of light make up. "You're sure you don't want to use the potty before we go?" "Yes, Nana," I said, rolling my eyes. "Watch your tone, young man. Alright let's go." Before long, we were back, and I set right to work. I had the old shutoff replaced and the main water turned back on. The corroded float mostly out, when I wished I had used the toilet before starting. I was close to finished; so, I forged on. All parts attached and feeling tight, I opened the shutoff and promptly got sprayed in the face. I turned off the water and had another go at the loose fitting. That did it, tight as a drum. I closed the door and christened the job. I noticed that the training pants were more than a little damp. I flushed and watched all the parts work as they should. I put away my tools and wiped everything down. Proud of myself, I opened the door and shouted, "Nana! I'm done!" "Nice job, Davey! I'm so proud of you. Thank you so much. It's beautiful! Come along. I have a nice lunch and a big piece of cake with your name on it." Lunch was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Again, she stuck the napkin in my shirt. She wasn't kidding about the cake. It was a two-layer yellow cake with gobs of homemade chocolate buttercream and enormous. It was all I could do to finish it. I didn't object the big glass of milk she gave me, even though I would have preferred coffee, and I didn't really need to use two hands, as she insisted. I thanked her with all my heart and said I would be on my way. "Oh, no, David. I have something I want you to do after your nap. Come up stairs and lie down. Nana has a big surprise for you when you get up." "I really should be…" "Now, David, you've been so good all day. Don't start giving Nana trouble now. I told your Mommy I would put you down after lunch, and that's what we're going to do." She took my hand and led me back to the grandkids' room. I think she would have dragged me, if I had put up any resistance. She put the bag Kathy had brought on the bed and pulled out pajamas and a diaper. She did a double take and took something else out of the bag. She turned around and wagged Kathy's hairbrush at me. "Don't make me use this," she warned and put it back. "Let's get you changed, and you'll have a nice nap and be all rested for your surprise." She came over and started unbuttoning my shirt. I backed away. She asked if she needed to get the hairbrush. I let her undress me. If I wasn't nervous before, I certainly was when she had me down to the pull-up. She started to take it down and stopped halfway. "Oh, David, when did that happen? I told you, you should have used the potty before we went to the store. You have to tell Nana when you have to go. Oh, well, I guess that's why we have you in trainers. At least your pants stayed dry. But let's get your diaper and jammies on, so you can go beddy-bye." I was soon tucked in and sulking. "Don't be that way, sweetheart. Nana's not mad. Accidents happen. But I want you to promise me, you'll tell Nana the next time, okay?" "Okay," I sighed. "That's Nana's good boy." She pulled the blankets up under my chin and kissed me on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Honeybunch. You have a good rest, and then Nana has something really special for you. Ni-night." She shut the door and left me to wonder what it might be. Tucked in and toasty, with a full tummy, I didn't last long. Nana jostled me awake. I knew from the shadows; I had been out for a while. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Time to get up. If you sleep any longer, your Mommy will never get you down at bedtime. Do you want to see what Nana has for you?" I nodded, curious. "Good. Let's just have a check then. Oo, I think Nana shouldn't give you so much milk before naptime. No worries, that's what it's there for." She got the bag and pulled out a diaper and a pair of training pants. She seemed to weigh her options for a moment ad put the diaper back. "We'll try these again, but you have to tell Nana when you need to use the potty, understand?" "Yes, Nana," I said, blushing. "Good boy." She got me changed and was pulling me the hand again. She had the biggest grin on her face. She took me down to the basement. I wondered what she wanted to show me. I had been down there earlier to turn off the main water line and hadn't noticed anything unusual. She turned me off to the left and opened a door. Before me lay the most elaborate train set I had ever seen outside and exhibition like the one we went to at Sharon's house. It wasn't nearly as big, of course, but still. It had everything, tracks winding all over the place, tunnels, trestles, crossing gates, people and animals. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. "Do you like it?" "Do I like it? It's beautiful!" "It was Harold's. He made it for our boys, but he could never get them interested in it. They just wanted to crash the trains. When they discovered girls, even Harold didn't play with it anymore. He never had the heart to get rid of it. I guess he always kept hope. It's been sitting down here all these years." "That's terrible. Something like this should be loved." "It was. It was, but not for a long time. Would you like to play with it?" "Would I? Do you mean it? That would be awesome! Are you sure it's okay? I mean…" "Yes, sweetheart, I mean it. It would do my heart good to know it wasn't down here just gathering dust. I think it would make Harold very happy too." There was a tear in her eye. "Oh, Nana, thank you!" I hugged her so tight. I think I might have lifted her off the floor. I gave her a great big kiss on the cheek and looked back over the display. I approached the layout with reverence, lightly touching it, following the track with my eyes. I found the controls and studied them carefully. I wanted to be sure of what each one did before I went any further. I never laid my hands on anything like this. I was lost in its intricacies when I made the first tentative turn of the transformer knob. An engine came to life and slowly started to move. I felt something placed on my head, then a hug from behind and a kiss on my cheek. I could take my eyes off the train, but I'm sure I felt a little wetness there. I was lost in wonder. I carefully tried each control, only for a second at first, just to make sure it did what I thought it would. After a while, I had two trains going and track switches working. I was thrilled, and I had barely scratched the surface of what it all could do. "Davey, you're Mommy's here." I almost whined for five more minutes. I really wanted to keep playing. Instead, I called back, dejectedly, "Okay." I carefully shut everything down, reversing the order in which I started them. When I stood up, a shiver ran through me. There was wetness on the backs of my thighs. I froze. How was I going to get out of there without them seeing? "David, come on," Kathy called. "It's time to go home and leave Nana in peace." "Coming," I lied. Now she was waiting at the top of the stairs. Was there a back door to this place? "Now, David. Don't make me come down there." There was nothing else for it. I slowly climbed the steps. There may as well have been a gallows at the top. "David! What have you done? I'm ashamed of you. Apologize this instant!" "I'm sorry, Nana." I meant it too. "You and I are going to have a talk about this when I get you home. I'm so sorry, Mavis." "It's alright, dear. I shouldn't have left him alone for so long. I should have known better after this morning." "This morning? You wet your pants twice in the same day? What am I going to do with you?" "Don't be too hard on him, Kathy. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure he couldn't help it. I really should have made him sit on the potty more." "It's not your fault, Mavis. There's no excuse for his wetting himself in the daytime. He should know when he needs to go potty, shouldn't you? If he doesn't, well we'll deal with it. But I think he was just being lazy and not wanting to stop playing. Get your bag and thank Nana. We're going home." "Thank you, Nana, for everything, especially for letting me play with the trains. That was so awesome." "You're welcome, sweetheart. You can play with them anytime you want, as long as your Mommy says it's alright." Kathy took the hat off my head and handed it to Nana. "Thank you, Mavis, but I think he's lost his engineer's license for a while. We'll see if he earns it back. I'll call you later." She pushed me out the door and scolded me all the way across the street and into the house. "Go upstairs, take off your clothes, and sit on the potty. Don't move until I tell you. I'll come up when I'm calm enough to deal with you." I don't know how long I was left to sit there, long enough for my legs to fall asleep. Kathy was calmer when she came in but still visibly upset. She picked up the saturated training pants. "For heaven's sake, David, what is wrong with you? I thought by now, you'd be getting better, but your just getting worse. I so want to spank you right now, but I don't trust myself to do it. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me? I've tried to be patient with you, but it's wearing pretty thin. I know you need a mommy right now, and I'm trying really hard to be that for you. I even told you, you could wear diapers all the time, if that's what you wanted. You said you didn't need them. You said you wanted training pants. You wanted to be a big boy. Then you go pissing your pants, not once but twice, the second time, so much you leaked. Well, mister, you listen to me, and you listen good. You want to piss your pants like a baby? Fine. You've got the whole weekend. You're going back into diapers right now, and you can piss and shit yourself to your heart's content. On Monday, if, and I mean if, I think you've learned your lesson, and you still want them, I'll consider letting you have your training pants back. But that's only going to happen if Nana will help with your toilet training. You'll sit on the potty on a schedule, you'll be supervised, your pants will be checked, and if you wet yourself, your going to be spanked, put back in diapers, and we'll start all over again the next time one of us is available to try and teach you to be a big boy. And don't think I'm going to be grounded just because you are being a baby. I have shopping to do this weekend, and you'll be coming with me, diaper bag and all. Do I make myself clear?" I had long since started crying. I sobbed, "I'm sorry." "I didn't ask if you were sorry. I said, do I make myself clear." "Yes, Mommy. Crystal." "Good. Get up and go in the bedroom. I need to get a diaper on you. You can clean up this mess afterward." "I can't," I wailed. "Are you defying me? After what you've done? Why the hell not?" "My legs are asleep." "Then I guess you'll just have to crawl like the baby you are acting like." I slid off the toilet and onto my knees. At first, I could hardly move my legs. Then the blood started to flow back into them, and that was much worse. Pins and needles only begins to describe the electric burning that flared with every movement. Kathy slapped my behind, and I screamed. Halfway to the bedroom, enough feeling had returned that I tried to stand. Kathy told me to stay where I was; she would let me know when I was allowed to walk again. I crawled up on the bed and lay back to be diapered. Kathy told me to roll over. I was sure she was going to take the belt to me, and I started bawling. Instead of fire on my bottom, I felt cold stickiness. She was slathering me with Desitin. It felt like she was using enough for three of me. I heard the rustling of diapers and saw two of them laid open next to me. She told me to roll over, and she applied a layer just as thick to the front. She covered me in a cloud of baby powder. It took her several wet wipes to get her hands reasonably clean. She taped up the double diaper and looked dissatisfied. She went away and came back with a roll of clear packing tape. She told me to stand, and she wrapped the tape around me three times. "That ought to hold you. Get in bed. From what I heard, you had more than enough to eat today. If you're quiet, and I feel like it, I might bring you a bottle later. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. Understand?" "Yes, Mommy," I squeaked. She looked down at me for a long time. Finally, she sat down on the bed. She brushed the tears from my cheeks and the hair away from my forehead. "Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. I know that this has all been hard on you. The thing is, this is all hard on me too. Shh. It's okay. I can deal with it, but you have to deal with it too. You have to decide what is going on and how you are going to handle it. What's happening isn't working. If anything, the situation is getting worse. I need you to think really hard about this. Do you think there is something wrong with you that you are losing control of your bodily functions, something physically wrong? If you do, I'll call Margaret on Monday. We'll get all the tests and specialists we need to make you better." I started to speak, but she put a finger over my lips and shushed me gently. "Don't answer now. I want you to think hard about that over the weekend. I don't know how your body feels inside. Margaret didn't find anything wrong with you before, and I don't think there is now. But you can tell me in a couple of days, after you think about it. As for me, I feel like you are trying to live in two worlds at the same time. A part of you wants to be a little boy and be taken care of. A part of you wants to be a big strong man. Both of those things are fine. But I think trying to both is hurting you. I think it's causing problems for me. I think you have to choose. If you can't handle the responsibility of keeping your pants dry, or just don't want it, you have to tell me. There are things we… I can do to prevent it from being a problem. It would mean some big changes for both of us, but we can deal with it, I promise. But you can't go around just wetting your pants, like you did today. That hurts us both, and it hurt Nana. It's all forgiven now, but you need to make some decisions. "You need to decide if there's something physically wrong with you and if not, which world you want to live in. Do you want to be a grown up, or do you need to be a little boy for now? I want you to take your time and really think about this. It's very important, and you should not make your decision quickly. I want you to take your time, and I won't ask for or listen to your answer until Monday. I'm not going to push you in any direction, and I'll respect any decision you make. But I think, and I hope you agree, that what you did today was not the right way to handle what's happening, and that it deserves some consequences." I was sniffling, but I nodded. "Good. So, until Monday morning, you are going to be in diapers. You will use them when you need to, and you will do what I say. You can learn just what it's like to be Mommy's baby and whether that's right for you. Do not ask to be let out before we discuss your decision. I am not going to change my mind. And if you think this is easy for me, think about what changing one of your dirty diapers is like for me. Now, I want you to get some sleep. It's been a trying day for both of us." She stood up, tucked me in, and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, my baby-husband, no matter what." She turned out the light and left the room. I tried to think about what she said, but it was just too much, and I drifted off into a less than peaceful sleep. I felt Kathy curl up against me, and I slept better after that. I was suddenly cold and flailing for the blankets. "Wake up, sleepyhead," Kathy sang merrily. I was still in a fog. "Let's check that dipee. Oh, yes, all wet. Let's get you changed." She was cutting through the tape she had wrapped around me before I could fully comprehend where I was, let alone what she was doing. I was more or less awake by the time she taped up the fresh diaper. She told me to put on some pants and come downstairs for breakfast. I was greeted by a spread of pancakes and sausage. This was not unheard of on a Saturday morning, but it was usually me cooking it. I sat down, and Kathy placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of me. I looked at her curiously. "Yes, I know what I said last night about your being Mommy's baby this weekend, but I don't think we have to go overboard. You do need to wear and use your diapers, and you have to do as I tell you, but I'm not going to make you drink from bottles or talk baby talk… unless you want to, that is. Oh, and unless we go out in public, you will call me Mommy, okay? I don't have any plans to go anywhere, but you never know. And public does not include Nana's house." I figured I could live with that, and I was already tucking into my pancakes anyway; so, I nodded. "Oh fay." "Don't talk with your mouth full. Then it's agreed." I'm not ashamed to admit I was stuffed when I finally put down my fork after my third helping. Okay, maybe a little ashamed, but it was really good. Kathy had long since finished and was tidying up. She brought a wet cloth when she came for my plate. "I know I said you wouldn't have to use a bottle, but maybe a bib might have been in order." I looked down and saw a number of places where syrup had dripped on my shirt. I blushed. Kathy chuckled and wiped them off. Then she wiped my face and my hands. She said I could do the dishes. I thanked her, sarcastically, for the privilege, and she gave me a warning look. I laughed. She checked my diaper, which deflated me a little, even though it was dry, and I took up the task. I don't mind washing dishes, especially when it's not many and somebody else did the cooking. The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, other than the diaper checks and changes, our normal Saturday routine. The first was a little traumatic. I felt the urge to pee coming on while I was washing up from breakfast. All the coffee I drank wanted out, but I didn't want to just stand there and wet myself. Kathy noticed my little dance at the sink. She told me I may as well get it over with, because the diaper wasn't coming off until I needed a change. I did manage to hold off until I finished and got out of her sight, but by that time, I was desperate, and it all came out in a rush, and I ended up with a very noticeable leak. Kathy just shook her head with an "I told you so" expression when I went to her but said nothing more about it when she changed me. After that, I didn't resist so much. Sunday was shaping up to be more of the same. Kathy reminded me over breakfast, just cereal and coffee, that I had a big decision to make the next day and asked whether I had thought about it. I told her I had—I'd thought of little else—but hadn't made any decisions. I puttered around the house and spent some time on the computer. Kathy spent a lot of time on the phone. Then we realized we hadn't anything in the fridge to make for dinner. Somebody was going to have to go to the store. Kathy told me to put on something decent; sweats and a t-shirt were not her idea of appropriate shopping attire. "Do I have to go?" "Of course, you have to go. I can't leave a baby home alone." "Can't I stay with Nana?" "No, we've been imposing on her enough. Just get dressed, and stop whining." "But I don't want to go out like this." "You are going out. No one is going to notice. The only question is whether you are going to go with a sore bottom, because I'm this far from spanking you." "Okay. Okay. I'll go." Kathy was right. Despite the fact that grabbing something for dinner turned into a major shopping trip, nobody seemed to notice my condition. All in all, there were no problems, at least until we were on the way home. That's when not pooping for the last couple of days decided to catch up with me. I was really trying to hold out until Monday, when I was sure I could get Kathy to let me use the toilet. No such luck. We were barely out of the grocery store parking lot when the first cramp hit me, hard. I passed some gas and felt better. Kathy cracked her window, and I apologized. A few blocks later, it happened again. It wasn't long before the cramps started coming in waves. I was holding my own, but now I had to pee. I was very uncomfortable and starting to sweat. The last wave passed about the time we pulled in the driveway, and I felt I was home free, if you'll pardon the expression. I got out of the car, and another cramp hit me so hard I nearly doubled over. I clamped down hard on my back door but forgot about my bladder. I started to pee. Shaken, I tried to stop that and lost control of my bowels. I was standing in the driveway, filling my pants front and back. I was mortified and scanning the neighborhood to see who might be watching. Kathy rushed me into the house. She took me straight to the bathroom and got my shoes and pants off. No damage was done. She asked me if I was finished, and I admitted I wasn't sure. She told me to stay there; she would unload the car. In the eternity that followed, it turned out to be the right thing to do; I wasn't finished. My diaper was a saggy mess by the time Kathy returned. She held me for a long time and shushed away my attempts to apologize. She had me lie on the floor, and she started a bath. She toughed her way through removing the diaper and a cursory cleaning. She told me to soak while she put the groceries away. I think I was starting to doze when she came back and began washing me. The bath was a tender time, and she acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I felt better, and Kathy showed me that dirty diapers or not, she was still interested in me as a husband. I was very content, and probably could have used another bath, by the time she was putting a new diaper on me. The evening passed quietly. Kathy asked me if I might want a bottle before bedtime. I told her that depended on what was in it. She smiled and told me to stay put. She came back a few minutes later with a bottle filled with wine. A baby bottle is not the best way to drink wine. It's really too much at one time, especially when one is being encouraged to drink it all up. The nipple doesn't do anything to improve the flavor. But lying with your head in the lap of your lover while getting quickly inebriated certainly makes up for it. I slept very well that night. Morning came way too early for me. The sun was barely up, and I was having a nice dream. "Get up, honey." I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. Kathy pulled them back down. "It's decision day, and I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Let's get you changed." Kathy had me sorted quickly and let me have enough coffee to bring the world into focus before starting our discussion. "Sweetheart, it's time," she started. She seemed as hesitant as I felt. "I guess the first question, and the one that kept me up a lot over the last few days, is: do you feel like something is wrong with your body? I mean with your accident yesterday; I have been really worried." "No," I assured her. "I was just hoping I could make it till today. I didn't want to do that in the diaper. If I had been able to use the bathroom, it wouldn't have been a problem." "So, you held your poopies in until you had a big accident in your diaper anyway." "I guess." "Not very mature, was it?" "I suppose not." "So, you feel like you are healthy? Nothing wrong?" "I don't think so." "Well, that's a relief. The bedwetting is one thing. There are lots of reasons that can happen, and we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. But it doesn't explain your daytime accidents. Are you sure there's nothing going on inside?" "Yes, I'm fine." "Then why have you been peeing your pants? Can you feel when you need to go?" "Yes." "Does it hurt to go? Are you having a hard time going? Can't you hold it?" "No, no, and no. I'm fine, really." "Then why are you wetting your pants?" She didn't seem concerned anymore, more irritated. "I don't know." "Are you just trying to get my attention? Do you feel like I'm neglecting you?" "No, of course not." "Then what is it? Are you just being lazy?" "I… I don't know." "David, we both know that you can't go around wetting your pants all the time." "It's not all the time." "Don't interrupt. The way I see it, you are just being irresponsible. Like I told you before, if you don't want the responsibility, there are ways I can handle it. But if you want to be a big boy, you have to get a grip on this and stop wetting and pooping your pants right now. You've had all weekend to think about this. There are two choices left. You can be a responsible grown up, or you can be a little boy. So, what's it going to be?" "What happens if I choose to be a grown up?" "I'll expect you to act like a grown up. You look for a new job. Until you find one, you'll be expected to take care of the house. And I will not tolerate wet or poopy pants. There will be consequences, if that happens. That might be spanking you the first few times, but I will not put up with it indefinitely." "You'd leave me?" I asked, visibly scared that she might. "I'm not saying that. I don't plan to; I don't want to. I just can't say it's out of the question. I guess it depends on how hard you push me." "Please, please don't. I don't want to lose you. What about the other choice? What if I was a little boy?" "Sweetheart, I don't want to lose you either. I love you, no matter what you decide. But to answer your question, little boys are different. They can't be expected to be responsible all the time. Little boys have accidents in their pants. That's why they can't wear big boy undies. Mommies understand this. But little boys who wet themselves can't really be trusted to change themselves when they need to, can they? That means that they can't be left alone. They need to be watched to make sure they get changed regularly and don't get diaper rash, which means you'll have to stay with Nana while I'm at work. We have already discussed this, and it's all decided. On the other hand, because you can't expect too much from little boys, they get to play a lot more. Sure, they'll have some chores, but not like a grown up." "You mean I'd have to wear diapers all the time? Could I maybe be a little boy and still wear regular underpants?" "Sweetie, we discussed this. I think it's this half in, half out attitude that is causing your problems. I think that, for right now, you need to be a little boy, that it would be good for you, and that it's what you really want too. But I also think you are fighting it, trying to act like a grownup sometimes and not others. I think you are being pulled between what you want and need, on the one hand, and what you think you should be doing, on the other. I think it's that tension that's causing a lot of your problems. For your own sake, if not for mine, you need to pick one or the other, because not choosing is hurting both of us." "But I don't want to wear diapers all the time." "Don't whine, honey. I've thought about this a lot. I think it would be a lot easier if you did, but if you really don't want to, we can try you in training pants during the day. Nighttime is non-negotiable for now; so is naptime. But understand, your wearing training pants comes with a lot more responsibility for everyone. For you, that would mean telling me or Nana when you have to go potty. No, you cannot just go by yourself. Nana and I will each decide whether you need to be supervised, but I want you to tell us when you have to go, so we can keep track. Nana and I would also be telling you, from time to time, that we want you to sit on the potty and try. You said you are not sick; so, there should be no excuses for having accidents in your training pants. If you do, Nana and I will each decide whether it deserves a spanking. I've already given her permission to spank you for this or any other disobedience. You do not want to find out what will happen if you give her any trouble about it. If you have two accidents in one day, you'll go back to diapers until I decide you are ready to try again. If you can live with those rules and promise to try really hard, we'll try you in training pants for the time being. Nana and I will also decide whether you should be in diapers if we have to take you somewhere, and there won't be any arguments, understand?" "Yes." She looked at me expectantly. "Mommy." "Alright. That's one way to go. Your other choice would be to just wear diapers all the time. You wouldn't have to worry about when you had to go potty. We'll check you and change you when you need it. If you want to make poopies in the potty, you can tell us. Let's face it; changing your dirty diapers is not fun. You don't have to, but you can. But we'll decide whether it's convenient to put you on the potty; so, no whining. We may still tell you to try making peepee in the potty, but you are not to ask. If this is the way you want to go, I want you to relax and not be concerned about keeping your pants dry. Let us worry about them. No one will make a fuss over a wet or dirty diaper; that's what they are there for. You can play or do your chores and not worry about wetting your pants. "So, you have a couple of choices to make, and I need you to make them now. There are no wrong answers here. I love you and will support you whatever you decide. I want you to do what you think is best for you. First, do you want to try being a grownup, or do you want to be a little boy?" I tumbled the alternatives in my brain. I had been contemplating it all weekend but didn't have this new information to work with. Kathy waited patiently, but I caught her checking her watch. "Little boy," I finally gave in. "I really think that's for the best. So, diapers or training pants?" "Can we do training pants, please?" I whined. "Are you sure? You know the consequences, if you start having accidents." I hesitated, asking myself whether I was making the right decision. "Uh huh." "Alright then. You had fair warning; so, you had better not abuse the privilege. Now, I need to get to work. Let's check your diaper." She came around and put her hand on the front. "Still dry. That's fine. Just tell Nana when you need the potty, and she'll put you in your training pants. Now, go get dressed, or I'm going to be late." "I don't get them now?" "I told you before, I'm not wasting perfectly good diapers. Now, go get dressed; or would you prefer to discuss it over my lap?" "I'm going," I sighed. By the time I was back downstairs, Kathy was waiting by the door with, what I could only assume, was my diaper bag. She took me by the hand and led me across the street. Nana opened the door as we approached. "There he is," she sang. "That was a very grown up decision you made. But the last one for a while, hmm? We're going to have lots of fun together while you get all better, okay?" I found myself shyly nodding my head and trying to slip behind Kathy. Kathy defended me, saying, "I guess he's feeling a little shy this morning. Here's his diaper bag. He can help you bring more supplies over after he gets settled in, but that should hold you for now. He still has his diaper on from this morning, but we're going to try him in training pants for a while. We've discussed the rules. He can have his pull-ups after he goes potty. I guess that's it for now. I think we discussed everything over the weekend, but if you run into any difficulties, you have my cell." She kissed my cheek. "Be good for Nana. I don't want any bad reports. I love you, sweetie. Have fun today." She took my hand from hers and gave it to Nana. Then she was off. Nana raised my hand and waved it for me. When Kathy's car was headed down the road, Nana took me inside. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. I told her I ate already. She filled a sippy cup with apple juice anyway. "Why don't you just take that and go play with your trains. We can talk when you're a little more awake, okay?" I was relieved to be off the hook for a while and welcomed the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I nodded and headed for the basement. Nana called after me. "Don't forget to come find me when you have to go potty." That caused me to stop and cringe for a second. I guess that was enough acknowledgment for Nana, because she said no more. I blushed and continued on my way. I had planned on brooding over my new life, but once I got started with the trains, all other thoughts left my head. Sometime later, a voice invaded my play. "Davey," it sang. "Davey?" "David! Stop that train." Nana was standing at my shoulder. I cut the power and the train slowed to stop. "You answer when Nana calls you, young man. You've been down here quite a while. I think you had better take a break and sit on the potty, don't you?" Now that she mentioned it, I did, more than I realized. "Uh huh." "Come on then. I'll get you some more juice too." I practically ran up the stairs to the bathroom. She shouted after me to slow down. I was in the bathroom trying to get my pants down when she caught up with me. It was difficult to do while dancing. "Let's get that diaper off." She pushed my hands away and undid the tapes herself. She pulled it from between my legs and pushed me back to sit. A stream hit the water almost immediately. "Just in time, I see. Well, almost in time." There was a small, but not inconsequential wet spot on the diaper. I was mortified. "That's alright. I shouldn't have let you stay down there so long. We won't mention this, okay." I nodded gratefully. "Stay there, and I'll be right back with some dry pants." She wasn't gone long but long enough for me to berate myself for not paying more attention to my bladder. I told her I could dress myself, but she insisted on helping. She suggested we take care of a few chores before lunch. These included going to my house to bring over more supplies. I said I didn't think we needed so many pairs of training pants, and I begged her not to bring the diapers. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, you'll need them for your naps." I didn't plan on taking any naps, but it seemed pointless to argue with her. So, I trudged back across the street with a big cardboard box of what would be my underwear for the foreseeable future. It was lunchtime, and Nana fixed us sandwiches. I was pleased she didn't try to make me wear a bib, but she did insist I use the sippy cup. Afterward, she had more chores for us. True to her word, she frequently asked me if I needed to use the potty, several times insisting that I try. I couldn't tell whether she was smiling or smirking when I produced. Late in the afternoon she suggested I watch TV until my mommy got home. I was happy to oblige. I must have nodded off, because Nana was pulling down my pants. "Shh. Calm down, sweetheart. You're very tired, and I think we should get a diaper on you, just in case." "I'll stay awake, I promise." "Don't worry, honey. It's okay if you don't want to take a nap. Nana will feel much better though, if we put your diaper on. Do you want to use the potty first?" I shook my head. There was no arguing with her. "Alright; if you're sure. We'll just put this on, and you can rest." Safely wrapped up, she let me return to my movie. I didn't see the end. The sun was much lower when I heard Kathy's voice. "I hope he wasn't any trouble today." "Nothing serious dear. I left him to play too long this morning. He mostly made it in the potty. That was my fault, and you shouldn't say anything about it. Otherwise, he was a very good boy, hardly any fuss. He might be a little wet now. He didn't want to use the potty before I put him down for his nap." I stretched, making it known that I was awake and giving me an opportunity to check my pants. I was disappointed to find Nana was right. I was a little wet. "Hi, baby," Kathy beamed, sitting down next to me. "Did you have fun with Nana today?" Other than the trains, I wouldn't have called it fun, but it wasn't bad. "Uh huh." "And were you a good boy for Nana?" I looked up at Mrs. Travers; she was smiling back at me. "Yes, Mommy. I was good." "He sure was. He helped me a lot," Nana praised. I nodded in agreement. "That's my good boy." Kathy hugged me. "But now it's time to get you home and fed. Thank Nana." "Thank you, Nana," I said automatically. I pushed back the blanket she must have covered me with and stood up. Kathy felt my crotch and appeared to come to some decision. She picked up the diaper bag and kissed Nana on the cheek. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. I don't know what I'd do without you. Say bye-bye, Davey." "Bye-bye, Nana. See you tomorrow." "Think nothing of it, Kathy. It's my pleasure. Bye-bye, sweetheart. Maybe we'll make cookies tomorrow. How does that sound?" My face lit up. "Don't get him thinking about cookies. I need to get dinner in him. Thanks again. I'll see you in the morning." Kathy took me home and immediately started to take things out for dinner. I tried to help, but she insisted I sit down and tell her about my day. I did and watched her cook while feeling bad that she had worked all day and was now working again. I told her I was going to wash up and use the potty. I couldn't stop calling it that. "It's alright, honey. Just use your diaper. It's already damp, and I'm going to have to change you for bedtime anyway." I sulked back to the bathroom. I wet myself while washing my hands. Dinner was up to Kathy's usual standards. I would have made a pig of myself, if she'd have let me. She left the washing up to me, which alleviated my guilt. Kathy came back as I was drying the last dish. "Okay, baby, bath time." "Already? I don't want to go to bed yet." "I didn't say you had to go to bed, but if you're getting cranky, maybe you should." "No. Sorry." "That's better. Come on then." Bath time was fun. Kathy had picked up some bath toys. It took some encouragement on her part for me to try them out. After pushing a boat around tentatively, she left me alone. Without an audience, it was easier for me to try playing. I was really getting into it when she came back. I didn't want to stop, but she said I was already pruning up, and she needed to get me clean. Her ministrations were fun too. Dried and back in the bedroom, I saw a large cloth diaper on the bed. "Where did that come from?" "I picked those up today," she said, as if she were talking about a new pair of socks. "The lady at the store said they were much more effective for nighttime, especially for side sleepers. She told me they are very comfortable too." I wasn't at all sure about this. Arguing with Kathy is rarely productive, but maybe I could distract her. "But it's still early. I'm not ready to go to bed yet." "It's not that early. You'll be going to bed soon. You may as well get ready now." "But what if I need to pee?" "Well, we'll just have to take it off. Anyway, you just went, and it's not like it would be the first wet diaper you slept in, would it?" "I guess." "Then lay your butt down, so I can get your diaper on, and we can watch TV for a while. Or would you prefer I give you a spanking and put you to bed right now?" I made the only sensible decision. Instead of closing the diaper up right away, Kathy started smearing sticky, white paste on my bottom. "The clerk said it's important to protect against diaper rash when using cloth." Lots of powder followed. Kathy's rubbing everything in overcame any displeasure I had with the experience. All too soon, Kathy brought the front of the diaper up and pinned it in place. She threaded plastic pants over my feet and had me stand up. The cloth diaper—or diapers I should say; there were obviously several—felt entirely different, the plastic pants even more so. The diaper was pleasantly soft, although it inhibited my movements, much like the double disposables had. The plastic pants were scratchy around the openings. They came up well onto my abdomen and ballooned out. They were somewhat stiff and made a soft, almost crackly sound when I moved. I caught sight of myself in Kathy's chevalier mirror. Let's be clear; there is nothing mature looking about a man in an adult diaper, except perhaps the knowledge that old people wear them. However, there is something vaguely clinical about them, and under the right clothes, they are relative discrete. On the other hand, a thick cloth diaper covered by billowing plastic pants is nothing short of infantile. It would take a lot to overcome the impression that the wearer is a big baby who can't control himself. I stared at my reflection for a long time, pondering what I was becoming. "I think you look adorable," Kathy said, hugging me from behind. "Here, let's put your jammies on, and then we can go watch some TV, okay?" I tore my eyes away from the mirror and let Kathy dress me. I was still stunned and had no will to resist. As I walked down the stairs, I felt I was moving as I looked, like a baby. The swaying of my hips and the rustling of the plastic pants confirmed with each step the road I was on. "What's the matter, baby?" Kathy asked when she saw my tears. "That," I said, pointing at the mirror. "That's what's the matter. I'm turning into a baby. What's wrong with me?" "Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with you. You're still my big strong man. It's just that you're my adorable little baby too. And I love you so much!" "How can you love me like… this?" "Sweetie, sweetie, I love you like this, or any other way. This is what you need right now. There's nothing wrong with it. You're having a bit of rough patch right now, and we are dealing with it the best way we know how. You're just feeling vulnerable, and that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay; it's attractive." "You find this attractive?" "Yes, I do. You may not realize it, but you have been far more open than you have been in a really long time. I feel I am able to get closer to you than I can remember. You are letting me in on your feelings, where you have been hiding them for years. It feels good to be needed. If what you are wearing helps with all that, I'm more than okay with it. Truth be told, I find the fact that I'm 'in charge' of some things very sexy." As if to prove the point, she snuggled closer and rubbed the front of my pants. She placed my hand on her own crotch, which was noticeably hot and damp. "I love you, baby, and I always will. Now, how about a smile for Mommy? Can you do that? Would you like Mommy's titty? Would that make you feel better?" Let's just say I was feeling much better by the time we went to sleep. Over the next several weeks, after some trial and error, we settled into a routine. Kathy would drop me off at Nana's house. I would have breakfast and some time to wake up with the paper or internet. There'd be some chores to do before lunch. Afterward, I would be put down for a nap. At first, I fought this, but after getting spankings from both Nana and Kathy, I stopped resisting. After my nap, I'd help Nana with whatever she wanted to do. Sometimes, it was chores; other times, it was baking or shopping. Then, I had playtime; that usually meant the trains. The reason I disliked the naps, and why I fought them the way I did, was that Nana and Kathy insisted that I be diapered, just in case. That wouldn't have been so bad, but they also insisted that throwing away a dry diaper was just wasteful. I did not get my training pants back until I was wet. I think that contributed to my increasingly frequent naptime wettings. I mostly enjoyed my time with Nana. She was sweet, always made me feel special, and often gave me treats. I was starting to put on weight. The downside was her approach to "toilet training" me. She made me try to use the potty far more frequently than necessary. I wouldn't have minded so much, but it always seemed to be at an inopportune moment, and she insisted on taking me and helping me with my pants. I told her I could just go myself, but she would have none of it. She said she had to make sure I hadn't had an accident and that I did something in the toilet. If I didn't produce, the look of disappointment on her face was deeply disheartening. If several attempts did not result in anything, she would make be sit there until something happened. She would get very cross and tell me she was not going to let me wet my pants just because I was too lazy or obstinate to use the potty like a big boy. My protests that she was just making me try too often, and that I always made when I asked to use the potty, fell on deaf ears. This poor timing came to a head one day when I was playing with the trains. I had been very wet after my nap, and Nana made me use the potty a couple of times while doing my chores. I didn't need to go when she took me up a while into my playtime. About fifteen minutes after she let me go downstairs, I started to feel the urge. I was sure she would be back to get me soon, as that had become the pattern. She didn't, and I continued play as my bladder became more insistent. I was getting toward the point of desperation when I went to find Nana and tell I needed the potty. I found her on the phone. I stood and watched her until she took notice of me. She excused herself and covered the mouthpiece. She asked me what I wanted, and I told her of my need. "I just took you a few minutes ago." "I didn't need to go then." "If that's true, you shouldn't need to go that badly now. I'll be with you when I'm off the phone. Go play." "Sorry, about that," she said into the receiver. "I'm watching the neighbor's boy, and he wanted my attention. ... He says he needs to go potty, but I just took him five minutes ago.… No, no, I'm sure he can hold it for a couple of minutes. He needs to learn that he can't just go the moment he feels like it.… Yes, boys are always more difficult to train.… Ha, ha, ha, yes, men too. Davey, go play. I'll be with you as soon as I'm off the phone." I ducked back downstairs, muttering to myself that it had been a lot more than five minutes, and she should have just let me go by myself. I tried to play some more, but my need was growing stronger. A few minutes later, I was back upstairs and making gestures to indicate that time was of the essence. She wasn't paying attention. "Nana," I whispered. Nothing. "Nana," I said a little louder. "Nana," I whined, louder still and fearful I would be heard over the phone. "Davey, don't interrupt. I told you I would be right with you. If you can't behave yourself, you can go stand in the corner. Go on, march." Her look left no doubt that she was serious. I stomped my foot and went to the corner the indicated. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" Her conversation went on and on. It wasn't long before I was clutching myself and shifting from foot to foot. "What? Yours too? I guess you had better be going. Goodbye, Debbie. Give my love to Tony." She must have been talking to her daughter-in-law. She hung up the phone and walked up behind me. She gave a hard swat to my behind. That was more than I could take, and a large squirt erupted into my training pants. "David, I'm very disappointed in you. Don't you know it's rude to interrupt when someone is on the phone? I bet you don't interrupt your Mommy when she's on the phone, do you?" "No," I conceded. "But…" "But nothing. Whatever it was could have waited. I told you I wasn't going to be long." "But I had to go potty," I whined. "You're a big boy, you can hold it for a couple of minutes, can't you?" "Yeah," I said tentatively. "Let's get you to the potty then," she sighed. Once in the bathroom, I started to undo my pants. I was really hoping she would go away. Instead, she brushed my hands away and took over. "David! How could you? You said you could hold it. I thought you were a big boy." "I am. I can. But… you spanked me." "That little slap on the tushy? That's your excuse? Well, we'll just see about that. I'll show you what a real spanking is, after you finish on the potty. If there's anything left, that is." She pushed me down firmly onto the seat and, much to my embarrassment, pushed my pee pee down between my legs for me. She would usually leave me alone to do my business, but not this time. She hovered, glaring at me and tapping her foot. I forced myself to overcome my bladder shyness and peed a still considerable amount. I felt the rumblings of a bowel movement coming on, but with Nana standing there, it wasn't going to happen. When she decided it was done, grabbed my wrist, pulled me up, flushed the toilet, and dragged me to her room with my pants still around my ankles. She grabbed a hairbrush off her dresser and sat down on her bed. I was over her knees in a trice. She put the hairbrush to work right away and had me blubbering out excuses, apologies, and promises before I could think. She kept up a steady barrage of scolding. "I just can't believe it, a big boy like you, interrupting me on the phone, peeing his pants, blaming it on one little slap, can't wait a couple of minutes to use the potty. I've known toddlers better behaved. Just wait till your Mommy hears about this. I'm sure she won't be happy. I can tell you this. You' won't be wetting your pants again in my house, not today. You're going right back into diapers where you belong." I'm not sure those were her exact words, but they were the gist of it. I'm not even sure she heard my protests that I tried, and she was a lot longer than a couple of minutes on the phone. I hadn't realized she stopped when she made me stand up and dragged me to the room I napped in. She pushed me down on the bed and got a diaper out. My blazing behind was wrapped up before I knew, and she was telling me I would be staying in bed the rest of the afternoon. "And if I hear one peep out of you, you'll think that spanking was playing pat-a-cake." She left me sobbing, while she muttered about the earful my mommy was going to get later. I willed myself to sleep, anything to avoid thoughts of what Mommy was going to say when she got there. I felt a gentle shaking of my shoulder, drawing me back to the land of the living. I was grateful to escape my troubled dreams, but when I saw Mommy sitting beside me, my eyes began to fill with tears again. I opened my mouth to beg her forgiveness, but she placed a finger over my lips. "Not now, sweetie. We'll talk about it when we get home." She helped me to sit up and put on some pants. "Let's get you home and fed, and we'll have a nice long talk, okay?" She didn't seem mad. That worried me. It wasn't like Kathy to restrain her feelings, and when she did, it usually resulted in a real blowout. She took my hand and led me downstairs. I followed with trepidation. Nana was waiting. She appeared considerably calmer too. I didn't understand, but I was not unhappy when she gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, with promises to see me tomorrow. Kathy was crossing the street leisurely, but my stress level went up with every step closer to our house. I was sure she would lower the boom as soon as we were behind closed doors. Instead, she pulled me into an embrace and rocked me. Without letting go, she made a quick diaper check and announced I would be fine until after supper. She took me into the kitchen and had me sit, while she prepared our meal. I asked if I could help, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was a simple supper, which I would have enjoyed more if I hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sweetie, about what happened at Nana's today," she began. Here it comes, I thought. "Nana wanted me to apologize for her getting so upset with you. After she put you down and had time to think, she realized that she really was talking for a long time, and she should have listened to you and taken you to the potty sooner." "If she'd just let me go by myself…" "Shh. It's okay. We know you are having trouble making it to the potty in time, and we shouldn't keep you waiting." "But I can," I protested. "Honey, are your pants wet now?" Without thinking, I put my hands to my crotch, and blushed when I felt the squish. "Come here, baby." I stood and walked around to her. She unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down. She squeezed the front of my diaper and looked at me. "Sweetie, you are more wet than when I got you up from your nap. Did you know that?" I didn't, and I felt another cry coming on. "There, there, sweetheart. Don't worry. Mommy's not mad. I know you can't help it. I think your worrying about keeping your pants dry is getting to be too much for you. You're just not ready yet." "I am," I whined. "No, honey, I don't think so. That's why Mommy got you some new diapers today. They're cloth and have Velcro. You'll be able to feel if you wet them, and Nana will be able to get them off in a hurry if she has to. I don't want you to worry about making it to the potty in time. Nana will take you when she thinks you should try, but if you wet your diaper, nobody is going to be mad. No more spankings for wet pants, doesn't that sound good?" Something in her logic felt wrong, but I found myself nodding in agreement. "We can try potty training again after a while, but for right now, I want you to relax and not think about it, okay? You just play and help Nana and Mommy when we ask. Will you do that for Mommy?" Kathy was being so nice about the whole thing, I just sniffled and nodded my ascent. She stood up and drew me into a hug that I could have stayed in forever. "Let's get you a nice tubby and then you can go night-night, okay?" Do I have to? by nautybaby ©2019-2024

Meet Alice. An 19 years old college girl who, recently has been having some troubles with a slightly leaky bladder. Regular bathroom trips have frustratingly become the norm for her in recent times, as well as frequent sudden urges to go. Which when you're often stuck in a 90 minute class can be a problem.... The last thing she ever expected at her age was to be worried about peeing herself in class, it's the sort of thing she would of happily teased someone other unfortunate student for, but the reality is that the cute college chick now finds herself terrified that with her seemingly misbehaving bladder, she might end up doing what in her mind, would probably totally destroy her all so-important social life. Yesterday was the final straw. She had struggled with every fibre in her body to hold it until the end of class, trying desperately hard not to make her predicament obvious to the rest of her class, as she fought against her throbbing weak bladder. The only way she held it was to constantly remind herself of just how much it would ruin her life if she peed herself in front of everyone. Alice hated History any way, she didn't even know why she picked it. That stupid teacher Mr Slater would never let her leave from the moment the class started. Perhaps because of his perceived perception of her as being one of the more rebellious students in his class, which to be fair to him was probably justified. It was seemingly his way of trying to teach her some much needed discipline... The second her class was dismissed Alice literally ran down the hallway, barging past people. There were a few chuckles as some students noticed the pretty girl clutching between her legs. Eventually she made it into the girls toilets where she charged into one of the cubicles, however before she could even lock the door, or pull down her panties, her baby-like bladder decided to let go...... She stood frozen on the spot only a mere few inches away from the toilet , as if to add insult to injury, as she helplessly let out a huge gasp which was followed by a torrent of uncontrollable pee which gushed out from beneath her pleated skirt, quickly forming a large puddle which spread outside of the cubicle She felt like an embarrassed, un-potty trained child as the reality of what she had done set in, causing her make-up covered cheeks to instantly burn red. The puddle was huge, and there would be no mistaking what it was if someone came in and saw her stood there.. "No no no this can't be fucking happening" shouted the distraught girl as she looked at what she'd done, completely oblivious that she wasn't alone.... She soon heard some giggles from the stall next to her.....her heart instantly skipped a beat as a feeling of dread rushed through her....... In her desperate rush she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed there was someone in the next stall..... Whoever was in there obviously knew about Alice's accident. To be fair no one could of missed the sound of her pee hitting the floor though. It had been like someone putting a tap on full power and left it running for about 20 seconds... Looking down Alice almost died when she saw her accident had crept under the partition wall and into the cubicle the other girl was in...... Knowing now that the girl could potentially ruin her if she knew who she was, Alice, in a complete panic thought hard about what to do. Then she heard a voice.... "Oh dear looks like someone needs some pampers, did Mommy not put one on you this morning little one?" came the condescending voice of the laughing girl Alice fought hard to hold back the tears in her eyes.... Judging by the horrible rough voice the cruel words had been spoken in, Alice thought she recognised the voice as a girl called Lisa Phillips. This was bad news. She was a rather large girl known not to be backward in coming forward. Probably something to do with her own shortcomings, she wasn't afraid to try and bring other people down if she had a chance. If she found out it was Alice, she knew news of her accident would be common knowledge by tomorrow morning.... She decided that she now had two options.. 1. Wait it out until Lisa leaves and hope to god she doesn't wait for her outside or go and get her friends..... which knowing her would probably be extremely wishful thinking... Or 2. Just grab her bag and get the hell out of there before Lisa has a chance to come out of the cubicle and see her..... A concerned Alice examined her skirt realising to her surprise it was pretty much dry, and her shoes had also avoided being soaked. Visually she felt relieved there were actually no signs of her having just peed herself. She knew her expensive blue Victoria's Secret panties were obviously completely soaked, but no one need ever to know about that. She would just stick them straight in the washing machine when she got home. Suddenly, panic set in...........as she heard a click from the stall next to her. Meaning the cubicle door had been unlocked......... Without any time to think, Alice knew she had to act quickly. She grabbed her bag, swung the cubicle door open and ran, with her hands on her head to cover her face.... She bolted for the exit door trying to catch Lisa by surprise, who hadn't expected her to quickly run away. She managed to catch a glimpse of the running Alice from the side and back as she saw her dash for the door, with the girls hands trying to cover her face and her dark brunette coloured hair flying all over the place.... Alice quickly made herself disappear into the crowds, as the toilets were fortunately situated right by the college main entrance, and thankfully it was now home time, meaning what looked like half the college were either stood waiting for friends or headed home for the day.... Lisa charged out of the toilets hoping to get a better look at who the panty pisser was but felt disappointed to be met with nothing but crowds of students walking about.... The question is, did she, or did she not get a good enough look to know which college girl had just had a little pee pee accident?