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  1. Hello, This is the first chapter of the first story I've ever published. Critical feedback and corrections are more than welcome, but please bear in mind that this story is completely fictional and I the medical aspects aren't intended to be accurate to real life. Chapter 1 – A Natural Approach Oliver sat, staring at his shoes with his chin in his hand, occasionally looking around the brightly decorated doctor’s waiting room and catching a reassuring glance from his mother, Abigail. He let his legs swing idly to pass the time but quickly stopped so as avoid any unnecessary attention. “Oliver? Oliver Wilson?” he heard a voice enquire. He looked up again to see the doctor poking her head out of the office. He trailed behind his mother with his head hung low as the doctor welcomed them into her office. This was a new doctor. She introduced herself as Dr. Richardson and explained that she would be taking over for Oliver’s old doctor, a kindly, easy-going old man who, despite his general apprehensiveness about doctor’s appointments, Oliver had been fond of. By contrast, she was much younger – late thirties, with her hair tied back in a ponytail and an energetic attitude. She seemed eager to make a good impression on her new patients and Oliver found himself warming up to her. Over the course of the appoint, any lingering doubts in Abigail’s mind that this woman might be anything but a competent expert with her son’s best interest at heart were also quashed. After a review of his file and the usual battery of tests and questions, Dr. Richardson broached a sore subject. “Well” she intoned in a way that Oliver could tell she was choosing her next words carefully. “I’m a little concerned about young Oliver’s growth.” she began. That was the understatement of the century as far as he was concerned. At just under 4”6’ and 64 lbs, he was the smallest kid in his sixth grade class by a mile. “Some other doctors might be inclined to recommend hormone injections, but I’d prefer to exhaust our natural options before we go down that path. From what you’ve told me about Oli’s sleeping habits and his picky eating, the good news is I think there’s a lot of room for improvement. I’m going to prescribe a course of two nutritional supplement. One for the day to help bridge any deficiencies in his diet and a night time one that will also help with sleep. You can get them at a speciality shop at the edge of town.” she explained as she typed up the prescription. “We’ll see how this goes and then regroup in a few months. Don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions about the treatment.” Dr. Richardson said as she stood, bringing the appointment to a close, Abigail thanked her and led Oliver outside to pay, where he was too caught off guard by the receptionist’s offer of a lollipop to decline it before his mother accepted it on his behalf and prompted a stuttered “Thank you.” out of him. They made their way back to the car where the journey home was mostly in silence as Oliver contemplated his ambivalence the outcome of the appointment. He was eager to hit his long anticipated growth spurt, and he was more than relieved to avoid any needles, but he didn’t even like most of the foods he was told to eat. He didn’t like the sound of whatever a nutritional supplement was, but he felt he had escaped lightly over all. They weren’t long home before he was lying on his stomach in front of the TV listening to the fan on his game console churning as he nonchalantly kicked his feet in the air. “Hey kiddo.” interrupted his mom. He braced himself to be told to get some fresh air or find something constructive to do, but it didn’t come. “I’ve gotta run a few errands, wanna tag along for the ride?” she offered. “Can’t I just hang out here?” Visits to the doctor scored sympathy points that they both knew he he was angling to cash in. She paused just long enough to make him doubt his strategy. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own?” she teased. “Mooom” he groaned but couldn’t help but smile. “Well, okay, but don’t let any axe murderers in.” “Not unless they have a puppy.” he countered as he turned his attention back to his game. Abigail punched the address Dr. Richardson had given her into her car’s GPS and pulled out of the driveway. The place was about 25 minutes drive. Technically within the town limits, but not a part of town she had ever been too or would have necessarily considered in town. She drove without the radio on, deep in thought. This was the start of the Summer vacation and she hoped this could be an opportunity to turn a new leaf with him. He had been increasingly down in himself the entire school year and had become more defiant and withdrawn, rejecting her every bid at the care and affection she felt he needed. It didn’t seem like these thoughts were rolling around in her head for long before a robotic voice was instructing her to take a left turn. The turn was inconspicuous, obscured by shrubbery and she would have easily missed it if not for the direction. She slowed as her car wound over the gravel parking lot which hosted a modestly sized brick building. She pulled into a spot and, approaching the building with the slight trepidation would-be trespassers reserve for when they’re not entirely sure they’re in the right place, she gazed up at the sign above the door with the words Tender Care printed with in pastel letters, angled so as to appear to be on toy wooden blocks. She pushed her way through the front door, causing a bell to ring as she passed the threshold. If the building had been modest from the outside, it was comparatively cathedralesque internally, with seemingly every cubic inch of space planned and accounted for. She had expected a pharmacy, but before her ranged all manner of equipment and clothing. She was so focused on taking it all in, she almost didn’t catch the smiling woman in her peripheral vision. “Hello there. You’re a new face here if I’m not mistaken.” She was a kindly faced woman in her mid fifties with a name tag bearing the name Elizabeth, but she introduced herself as Liz, the shop’s sole proprietor. “Oh, hi! My son’s paediatrician gave me a prescription she said I should fill here.” she explained, digging through her purse for the document in question. “Dr. Richardson?” “How did you know?” “She sends a lot of customers our way, so you’re in good company.” As Abigail was led through the store, she had more time to appraise their other offerings. At first she had taken it for a generic medical supplies store, but on closer inspection a distinct theme was starting to emerge. There were cribs, high chairs, and strollers arranged for display on the floor. Most of the clothing on display had cartoonish appliqués and unusual fasteners. She would have taken it for a baby equipment store sooner, but was thrown off by how much bigger much of the equipment was here. “Excuse me, but what kind of store is this exactly?” enquired Abigail as they reached the till. “We cater to the families of children with a wide range of developmental and maturation delays, just like your little guy. So, this is a two week supply” Elizabeth began to explain, gesturing at two large plastic containers she had taken from a nearby shelf and placed on the counter. A green container bearing the word Nutriform in large text and picture of a smiling tot far younger than Oliver stood along side a second, nearly identical container, except that it was blue, and the label depicted a soundly sleeping child and it had the subtitle Sleeptite in smaller text below the main Nutriform brand. “It will all be explained on the insert, but you’re going to want to give him a scoop of the green one mixed into his bottles at meal times and the blue at bed time. You can mix half a scoop of each together for nap times, but that’s just a tip from me. He might be a little groggy afterwards.” “Oh, I think there’s been some misunderstanding.” chuckled Abigail. “My son is 13.” “Right, how silly of me.” conceded the shop attendant with a glint on her eye. “Still, I know Dr. Richardson well and the prescription is par for the course so no mistake there.” She bagged the two containers for Abigail as she began to ring up her purchase. “Now some good news today: These are fully covered on your insurance, and that will go for most everything here.” she explained, handing the brown paper bag to Abigail. “So no excuse to be a stranger if you find there’s anything else little Oliver needs.” she grinned leading her towards the door. They said their farewells and Abigail walked back out to the car, already trying to figure out how on Earth she was going to sell Oliver on this without a having a meltdown. By the time she had arrived home, she had resolved to transfer the contents of the containers to two inconspicuous containers. No sooner had she placed the bag on the kitchen worktop after making sure the coast was clear, than by the time she had completed the momentary returning home ritual of neatly storing her shoes, bag and keys in the foyer, a curious Oliver had ascended a step stool next to the worktop to interrogate the bags’ contents, hoping his mother’s presumed foray to the store might have yieled some chips or cookies. “Mom...” he asked uneasily. “What are these?” he said holding up the blue Nutriform container like a cross between something from show and tell and a discarded murder weapon. Abigail took a sharp intake of breath and bit her tongue, her plan instantly dashed. “No...” Oliver’s voice started to croak as the pieces fell into place in his head. “Sweetheart... The doctor said.” “No, no, no, NO, NO!” “Honey, please just listen.” but it was too late. “I’M NOT A FUCKING BABY!’ he screamed as he stormed past her. Abigail listened to the as-of-late all too familiar sound of heavy foot fall stamping up stairs, a brief pause, and the bang of a bedroom door being slammed to complete the sequence. She exhaled sharply and let her shoulders fall before following in pursuit, with softer foot steps. She gingerly opened the bedroom door and peaked in to see Oliver turned towards the wall, curled up in a fetal position, with his head in his hands, quietly weeping. The curtains were already drawn, darkening the room somewhat but the evening Summer sun streamed through the gaps. She took a seat on his bedside and placed a hand on his back. “It’s not fair, mom.” he said through muffled sobs. “I know sweetie. I know it’s not exactly what you were expecting. You know I only want to do what’s best for you right?” she ventured, and took his silence as a queue to continue. “I know it’s not easy, but, you know, part of growing up means making the decisions that are best for you in the long term, even if they’re not easy right now. This Summer could be a bit of a fresh start. A lot can change in a few months.” He turned around and edged towards her. “I’m sorry I shouted.” he said in a hoarse whisper. Tears were streaming down his face and his eyes were red from crying. “I know, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not mad. Hey, we have some coupons for that new pizza place you wanted to try. How about we order in tonight?” “Really?” he asked, perking up slightly. “My treat.’ she smiled at him. Approximately 45 minutes later Oliver descended the stairs, far more quietly than he had ascended them earlier. His mother sat on the couch with a welcoming smile. In addition to a steaming hot pizza and two large soft drinks, a glass sat of a pale white liquid, like milk with a slightly yellow tinge. “You can have it now or you can have the pizza first if you prefer.” explained Abigal. He settle into the couch beside her and picked up a slice of Pizza. Abigail had put one of his favourite Pixar movies from when he was younger on the TV, hoping in the back of her mind that the familiarity might help ease him into the change of routine. Oliver ate slowly, putting off the inevitable. “I think you should try some of your drink now.” Abigail coaxed gently when they were about halfway through the movie. With some hesitation picked up the glass and raised it to his lips. It tasted more or less like milk, which Oliver usually liked, except sweet, creamier, and just – to his surprise – better over all. Though he wasn’t about to let on so he made sure to drink slowly. About 15 minutes after he finished the glass, he was already flagging. His eyes felt heavy and he laid his head on his mother’s shoulder without even thinking about it. He closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, the end credits of the movie were rolling. He turned to see his mother smiling warmly at him. “I think you’re about ready for the land of nod, little man.” she said softly. He was too tired to argue. She led him by the hand up to his room. He felt like he was in a losing battle for his consciousness as he changed into his pyjamas and slumped into bed. The last thing he remembered was the silhouette of his mother tucking him in before he passed out just before 8:30 p.m. with the sun still firmly in the sky, hours before his usual bedtime, if he even had one. Abigail stared at her son sleeping soundly. She hadn’t expected the sleep aid to be so effective. She hoped that, now that they were over the initial hump, the journey might be smoother from here on out. She kissed him on the cheek and closed the door gently behind her. “Rise and shine sleepyhead, it’s almost 10:00 a.m.” Abigail half-sang as she entered Oliver’s room. He rolled out of bed as he came to. His initial feeling of being extremely well rested gave way to a far less pleasant feeling of cold clamminess all over. He pulled his sheets away to see that, along with most of his bedding. his pyjamas were soaked from below his knees almost up to his chest.
  2. 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.
  3. Luna’s predicament Fulgrim Prologue It all began with a flash,then a boom, and finally an infinity of sensations once forgotten came like a tsunami to Luna after the banishing of nightmare moon. Things like breathing, coldness and tiredness came crushing to the poor princess, now finally free from that curse born from ancient hate. Alas she was free, Free, but she didn't have much time to ponder as she succumbed to exhaustion. ________________________________________ “This is it ?” said twilight exhausted from such extraneous activities “Yes it is” said Celestia in her usual optimistic tone “But, I don't understand ?” said twilight confused Were once stood a mighty foe,now was but a little filly “Magic and alicorn biology are things truly mysterious,I didn't know what her banishment and subsequent exorcism would entail… such a predicament.”She said now stoically “So what now ?” Said twilight wishing to go to bed, of course not before reading a 50 page essay about Blue eucalyptus lilies. “Now it is high time me and my little sister go home” Now a bright, brighter than the brightest of suns adorning her mouth. ________________________________________ Now Celestia began her journey to her palace, now with an added package in the form of her little sister. Whilst for her subjects a restful night was ahead of them, for the princess of the sun, the night had just begun, as she had now to prepare everything for the reintroduction of her sister. From a room to rest, medical staff to attend to her wounds, tutors to teach her all the things she missed during 1000 years, to a hundred other little things. Indeed things were going to be quite occupied for the bearer of the sun, but she was genuinely happy over the development of the affair, and whilst she was preoccupied about the predicament of her sister, she could do nothing to change it, indeed it was a good night. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sooooooo the prologue to my first ever kink story, yay i suppose, just to be clear i don't know how long this whole affair will be but hey, who cares? Thanks for reading and have a goodnight. Chapter 1
  4. Prologue: A kidnapping in Maine leads to a long investigation for Special Agent Paul, who will have to work as a team Hi, let me introduce myself, I'm Lola and I want to try to write an abdl story that mixes criminal investigation, this story is based on series of the genre, I hope you like it, please leave comments with criticism, praise and improvement, I'll make it clear that English is not my native language spelling and punctuation errors may occur Chapter 01 In picturesque southern Maine, a short, blonde girl ran along the wooded trails of a local park. Wearing a neon orange shirt with the word L.E.C printed on it and pink leggings, she enjoyed the sunny day while working out. Benson, as she was known, was a popular figure on social media, with a profile full of photos of herself showing her routine and her friends, she was a blogger, while she was running, Benson took her cell phone out of her pocket and captured a photo of the stunning scenery. around you. Excited by the prospect of sharing her activity with her followers, she posted the image on her social networks, adding the hashtag #vidaaoarlivre. Satisfied with the post, she continued her run, holding a bottle of water to stay hydrated. However, a small accident happened. Benson absentmindedly spilled some water on her pants. Although the incident was barely noticeable to most people, a young brown-haired woman was watching her closely from a nearby bench. Seeing the situation, she quickly got up and started running towards Benson. Upon reaching her, the woman accidentally hit Benson and immediately apologized: "Sorry, oops! It looks like I spilled water on you." The woman was also carrying a bottle of water, showing a strange coincidence. Benson replied casually, "Don't worry, it's no big deal." However, the lady insisted, offering a solution: "Let's go to the bathroom. That way you can clean yourself better." Benson, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the woman's insistence, hesitated for a moment. She didn't have much strength to resist, and before she could say anything, the woman grabbed her hand and started dragging her towards the park's bathroom. However, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. The woman was determined and showed no signs of stopping. In a moment of desperation, Benson began to think something was wrong. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt a sudden dizziness take over her body. Before she could understand what was happening, the woman, with a cloth in hand, roughly placed it over Benson's mouth. The cloth gave off a strange odor, and the girl felt increasingly weak. It was as if some kind of sleeping medication was mixed into that fabric. The brown-haired woman went unnoticed by other people in the park, acting like any mother with a child. Her car, an ordinary black SUV, didn't attract attention. Opening the back door of the vehicle revealed a car seat used for children. Carefully, she placed Benson in the car seat and fastened the seat belts, treating her as if she were a child. Taking advantage of the situation, the woman inserted a pacifier into Benson's mouth, as if she was trying to maintain the appearance of an ordinary, harmless child. Once everything was ready, the woman quickly left, heading away from the park and southern Maine. The fate was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Benson was being taken away against her will. -------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, in Washington, D.C., a young special agent named Paul was lying in his bed, resting, when he received an unexpected call. When he answered, he heard a familiar woman's voice: "Special Agent Paul." She was Monica Martinez, the head of the F.N.C agency (FBI, NCIS and CIA) and a high-ranking figure in the intelligence service hierarchy. Monica got straight to the point: "There's been a kidnapping in Maine. I need you immediately. Come here in ten minutes." Paul recognized the seriousness of the situation and the urgent tone in his boss's voice. He quickly responded, "Okay, I'll be there." Paul hung up the phone
  5. "Keep away from them, they're dangerous!" "Don't you know they torture little guys like us?" "You need to be careful!" These were all things the boy was told growing up as a little in this Amazonian world. The idea of being swooped up and taken away to be forced into some prison camp, forced to be humiliated and tortured and maybe even killed... It was a story that the boy heard every day! All of his friends and neighbours in the little hidden village tried to keep the boy from wandering as he liked to do... They worried about him, as he didn't seem convinced by their stories. He just kept getting closer and closer, examining how they seemed to act just like normal people... It was all so conflicting! One day, however, the boy finally did get too close, and some large policemen caught him, and dragged him off to an orphanage!
  6. TAYLOR SWIFT and KATY PERRY in PAMPERED POPSTAR After years of bitter rivalry Taylor Swift and Katy Perry finally managed to bury the hatchet. It sprouted quickly, and grew into a seemingly beautiful friendship… “I’m so glad we could finally put this feud behind us! It was so stupid.” Katy said. “Are you ready bestie? This is some really good Molly.” She smiled as she popped a pill into her mouth, and then one into Taylor's. She waited a few moments. Long enough for the capsules to dissolve past the point of no return. “Mine is really good Molly anyway. Yours is… Well… you’ll see.” “HaHa… What do you mean?” Taylor nervously laughed. Hoping that Katy was just making a tasteless joke. The menacing grin that answered her only managed to incite deeper concern. “What do you mean? What is it?? Katy, what did I just take?!?” Taylor demanded. Holding more urgency behind each unanswered query. Something didn't feel right. She didn't feel right. “Katy… I don't…” the room started spinning before she could finish the thought. The last thing Taylor remembered of that night was falling to the floor. Well, that… and soaking her designer jeans, as she pissed all over herself. the next morning… Taylor woke up in a room she didn't recognize. She was sluggish, and her head felt like the static on a TV. She tried to remember what happened to her. But was swiftly distracted by a peculiar feeling under her sheets. She reached down, confused when she felt something soft and fluffy where her lace panties usually were. “Oh god! what the hell!?!” Taylor barked, after pulling the bedding off her. “Why… A diaper!?!” Taylor was so confused. She examined her new underwear with absolute wonder. “Oh my God!” Taylor gasped. Finally realizing something else. “It’s wet! I didn't!” She said our loud. “Oh my God, I did! I peed in it!” She shrieked, and she poked the soiled garment. “I thought I heard you fussing. And I guess that answers my first question. But what about number two?” Katy said. Startling Taylor, as she poked her head into the room with a big smile. Taylor spun around. Not sure if she was more embarrassed or confused. Or angry. “What the hell is this shit!?!” “Yeah… That's my second question. Shit?” Katy asked. “What?!? Shit what? What do you mean?” The question threw her off, and Katy's gitty demeanor did very little to quell Taylor's unrest. “Did you shit in your diaper?” Katy asked, more deliberately. “NO! I…” Taylor didn't know what to say. And she was ashamed she even checked to see if she had. “I didn't shit myself! What's happening? What did you do to me? Why can't I…” Taylor was beginning to really panic now. “I can barely move! Help!” “Take it easy Tay-Tay. You had a busy week. Just look at all these headlines you made. you really tied one on. No wonder you feel so bad!” Katy tried to calm her down. Taylor looked at Katy utterly confused. “What headlines?” she thought. “What WEEK? It has only been one day. What did you do to me last night?!?” “You don't remember?” Katy asked. Reading Taylor's puzzled look and apparently agitation. “Here maybe this will jog your memory.” Taylor watched in horror as Katy ran her finger across the screen of her iPad. One after another - Paparazzi pictures of Taylor out in public, sporting several different piss stained outfits. “This one is my favorite though.” Taylor gasped with horror as she read the headline: TAYLOR SWIFT CANCELS ERAS TOUR AFTER ON STAGE ACCIDENT! Taylor couldn't believe what she was seeing. She didn't remember any of this. Luckily for her, Katy was happy to jog her memory. “You seriously don't remember? Don't worry Tay-Tay, there is no shortage of pics.” She was not joking. There were an unnecessary amount of photos. Each one was worse than the last. Taylor couldn't look away - It was like a train wreck. “I’m as shocked as you. Honestly I can’t believe they published these.” Katy said, seemingly reading Taylor's mind. “Ooohhh!!! This is my favorite one.” Katy shouted excitedly. It was a picture of Taylor from behind. She was on her hands and knees. There was no mistaking the bulging brown lump she had made in her tights. “Yeah… pretty embarrassing huh? I'm pretty sure this is right before you start to cry and beg for your mommy to come change your diaper. Let's see… I think there is a video. And yes, You were still fully mic'd. Hold on. Umm… Yeah, Here it is!” Katy said cheerfully. Like Taylor was supposed to be excited to watch it. “Stop! This is a nightmare!” Taylor was having a full on panic attack. “You did this! You drugged me.” “Who, me?” Katy joked. “Yeah, I guess you got me! HaHa! It's a shame you won't be able to tell anybody else. It's all downhill from here. For you anyway.” “What do you mean? What’s happening to me!” Taylor pleaded again for a real answer. “I guess I owe you an explanation while you can still understand. See… the pill I gave you wasn't Molly. It was a regression pill. Coupled with these fancy hypnosis tapes, you won't have very much time left as a big girl. Honestly I thought you'd be dumber by now. They said one pill would be more than enough, but I've never really been patient.” Katy wrestled a weak Taylor into submission, and forced another pill into her mouth. “Don't worry little Tay-Tay, everything will be okay when you wake up again. Here let's get your headphones on now.” Taylor shook her head lazily as Katy filled it with hypnotic nursery music. a couple days later… “I can still sing, You big doo-doo head!!! See…” Taylor started to sing the only song she could remember - most inharmoniously. “Da wheels on da bus go wound an wound!” “HaHaHa! I'm sorry to break it to you Tay-Tay, but I’m pretty sure that one isn’t gonna make it to the top of the charts. It definitely isn't gonna win you the Grammy this year!!” Katie snorted. It was a horrible rendition, sure. The pained grimace that Katy had scrunched her face into however was a little extra. It was the same face that someone makes while listening to nails on a chalkboard. Katy could tell that she hit a chord. It was written all over her face. Any second now Katy was sure that Taylor was about to start crying again. Even in such an infantile state, Taylor could still tell when Katy was making fun of her. “Oh… Don't be so dramatic Tay-Tay, you have twelve Grammys already. How are you ever gonna be a big girl again, if you can’t even learn to share?” What started as an attempt to console her quickly lapsed back into indignant mockery. “I was going to say that it isn't my fault that you won't be getting any more awards, but IT TOTALLY IS!!! Well, that is… unless it's an award for most dirty diapers! HaHaHa!!!” Katy’s tormenting laughter dominated the room. She was purposefully drowning out Taylor's harrowing screams. “Did you seriously poop your pants again already?!?” Katy’s face scrunched up in disgust. Rightfully so this time. “Oh my god… You smell like shit Taylor. LITERALLY! I didn't want to say anything and jinx you, but I think potty training might be a bit much for you. I told you to tell me if you needed the bathroom for potties! How do you expect to get out of diapers like this?” Taylor wanted to scream. She wanted to run away. She wanted to rip her disgusting diaper off, and change back into her cute panties. But she didn't do any of that. “I need bafroom! I go potty! BllbbPptt!!!” She babbled, before getting distracted blowing spit bubbles. “HaHaHa. It's a little late now Tay-Tay!” Katy scoffed. “Well anyway… I had a lot of fun watching you turn into a big dumb baby these last few days, but I really should finish getting ready. I have a big date tonight. I'd say I would see you around sometime, but I honestly don't plan to visit any pre-schools, or daycares anytime soon! HaHaHa!!!” Katy laughed hysterically. She found unremitting pleasure watching Taylor ignorantly bounce around in a mess of her own design. “Don't worry, Ariana will be here to change your dirty diaper soon. You were right, she is SUCH a good friend. It was honestly way too easy convincing her to come babysit you until your mom shows up.” Katy could tell that Taylor was confused. “You don't remember texting your mom to come change your diapers and breastfeed you?” She asked coyly. She touched her pursed lips quizzically for a moment, before smacking her own forehead. “OH! That's right, I forgot! I texted her that. Off your phone. I bet she’s gonna be so confused. Too bad you’re not going to be able to tell her what happened by then. You can barely make any big girl words right now. Nope, nope nope… All you’ll be able to say is ‘goo goo ga ga, I need my diapee changed!’ HaHaHa!!! Don't worry, she used to do it all the time, I'm sure it's like riding a bike!” “Oh! That must be Ariana now.” Katy announced, behind the doorbell’s chime. “Oh little Tay-Tay, don't pout! Are you nervous? I'm sure she will think you’re adorable.” Katy laughed, as she made her way to the door. “Oh my gosh. You’re a little early.” Katy looked back at Taylors mostly naked body, dirty diaper on full display. She bit her lip, and turned back to the person on the other side of the door. “Um… the sitter isn't here yet. Do you mind waiting, I need to finish getting ready quick anyway.” She opened the door the rest of the way. “Well… this is a little awkward. Taylor, you know Travis.” Katy’s venomous smile was too much for Taylor to handle after seeing her boyfriend step in. Ex-boyfriend now, apparently. “Noooo!!!!” She moaned. Turning away from them. She rolled onto her stomach, and buried her face into the floor. Ironically exposing her shameful state even more. At least when she was sitting up, all you could see was a slight yellow stain around her groin. The brown discolored seat of her diaper was on full display now as she writhed on the floor. Flailing her almost useless limbs as ferociously as she could. Pulling and pounding at the carpet, and kicking her legs about wildly. “She's probably going to be throwing this tantrum for a hot minute. You know how babies are. How about you go make us a drink while I finish up!” Katy offered. “Hey Tay…” Travis waved uncomfortably at the woman he was dating only a few days ago. Unable to recognize the blubbering baby floundering at his feet. “So yeah… sorry you had to find out like this. It isn't really working out between us. I hope you understand.” Taylor just kept soaking the carpet with snot and tears. Travis turned back to Katy “Can she… does she understand me?” “I mean… barely. She's a little more lucid when she isn't so worked up.” Katy noticed the look of pity on Tavis’s face. She stepped into his body, and rubbed his shoulders. “I know. It's so sad. I can only imagine how you feel.” Katy said with all the sympathy she could muster. Her voice was convincing. Lucky for her, Travis couldn’t see the malicious smile Katy was wearing in contrast. “But let's not have this ruin our first date! Come on now, she will be fine until Ariana gets here.” Katy took Travis’s hand, and playfully pulled him away. Leaving Taylor alone on the floor, mostly naked, stewing in her own messes, waiting for her best friend to come save her.
  7. Summer with Aunt Amanda by Spark Part 1 My mom was deployed to the Middle East the summer after I finished eighth grade. My mom was a single parent, so I went to stay with my Aunt Amanda for the summer. She lived in this remote mountain town, and I didn’t know any kids my age who lived near her house. I was fourteen, which made me too young to get a job, and too old for summer camp. I would spend all summer with my two younger cousins. Scott was seven years old, and Debbie was five. In truth, I liked my aunt, even though she still treated me like I was a little kid. For some reason, she didn’t realize I was a teenager and didn’t need to be supervised all the time. My mom warned me, “Tommy, I know it feels like Aunt Amanda treats you like a kid, but if you can show her that you’re mature, she promised to give you some more freedom and responsibility. But that means that you have to be helpful and respectful. You might need to help with your cousins and, of course, clean up your messes.” The truth was, despite being fourteen and entering high school, I acted more like a kid. My mom still had to remind me to brush my teeth and tell me to take a shower at night. She constantly had to tell me to put away my things, and I never did any chores without being told to. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I just never thought about it unless she asked me. I also would pout and whine, and even tantrum, when I didn’t get my way. I don’t think I was a bad kid, but I was just really immature for my age. I’m not completely sure, but I think my mom hoped time with my aunt would help. My mom and aunt met halfway between their houses. Scott and Debbie were in the car with my aunt, and I noticed a diaper bag in the back of the car. That surprised me because I thought Debbie was already potty trained and figured Scott was too old for diapers, at least during the day. We did our goodbyes, and I took a seat in the passenger side next to my aunt for the three-hour drive to her house. Now, despite my mom’s warnings, I overindulged in chips and soda along the way, and my stomach was already rumbling when we got on our way. I figured it wasn’t an emergency yet. I didn’t want to ask my aunt to stop because she already warned me before we left. She asked, “Tommy, it’s a long drive, do you need to go potty before we leave?” That annoyed me and I replied, “I’m not a baby! I can hold it.” Aunt Amanda noted my sharp tone, “Ok, but remember, you can’t ask me to stop unless you go potty now.” The pressure grew and I tried to fart a little to relieve it, but it wasn’t just a fart. I felt something come out, and it wasn’t just a small leak. It was enough that I could feel it in my underwear, and it wasn’t long before I started to smell it. I was fourteen years old, and I just pooped my pants! I wanted my aunt to see me as a teenager and not just some little kid, but that wouldn’t be possible if she knew that I pooped my pants. I tried to be discrete, but Aunt Amanda noticed the odor. She asked, “Scotty, did you poop?” “No.” Aunt Amanda then asked, "Debbie?” “No, Mommy. I’m a big girl.” “I know you are, honey. It smells like somebody pooped, so we’re going to stop.” We pulled into a rest stop, and everybody got out. My aunt checked Scott and Debbie first. Scott didn’t poop, but he wet his Pull-Up and his mom said, “Scotty, that’s your second accident. That means that you need to go back to diapers. We’re going to take a break from potty training.” I tried to sneak off as she was dealing with Scott, but she saw me. “Where do you think you are going?” “I need to go to the bathroom?” “Not yet; I need to see if it was you.” “WHAT! Don’t treat me like a baby. I didn’t poop my pants!” My aunt shot me a stern look, “Do you need to go to time-out?” I shook my head and meekly said, “No.” “Ok then. I understand that you want me to treat you like a big kid, but I can’t treat you like a big kid unless you act like one. Do big kids throw tantrums?” “No.” “That’s right, and you just threw a tantrum, didn’t you?” “But …” I didn’t get a chance to finish my protest. “Did you just shout at me and cry that you didn’t poop?” I nodded. “If you didn’t, let me check.” “Please! Let me go to the bathroom. I’ll clean it up.” “Was it you?” I blushed and cried, “Only a little bit.” “So, it was you; why didn’t you say so?” “I was embarrassed.” She placed a change pad from the diaper bag in the back of her SUV and said, “Hop up so I can take care of your mess.” “Um. What? Can’t I just go to the bathroom and clean myself?” My aunt shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Tommy. I need to make sure you’re properly cleaned.” I protested, “I can do it myself. I’m not a baby!” I hoped that would make her realize that I didn’t need her to clean my butt, but she just rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Really? Do big kids poop their pants?” “It was an accident!” “Yeah, it was, and I need to make sure it won’t happen again.” “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m not a baby; I’m fourteen years old.” By this point, I was whining and begging. Aunt Amanda shook her head and said, “Tommy, if you want me to treat you like a big kid, you have to act like a big kid. So far, I’ve seen no evidence that you can do that.” “What? I am a big kid. You can’t do this.” “Do big kids poop their pants?” I shook my head. “Do big kids pout and whine?” I cried, “I’m not pouting!” By this point, Aunt Amanda was tired of it, “Look! If you’re going to act like a baby, I’m going to treat you like a baby. I can’t potty train you if you’re not cooperating.” “I am potty trained. It was an accident.” She laughed and said, “I certainly hope so. I’d hate to think you did that on purpose. However, at my house, an accident means that you have to wear Pull-ups until you can show me that it won’t happen again.” She took a pacifier and ordered, “Open up.” I asked, “What’s that?” and as I did, she plopped the pacifier in my mouth. “That’s a pacifier. That’s what you get when you whine too much in my house. Keep that in your mouth until I take it out. Now be a good boy and lie down on the mat.” I resigned myself to having my aunt clean my messy bottom but pleaded for more privacy. In a muffled voice, because of the pacifier, I cried, “Can’t we do this in the baffroom?’ “I’m sorry honey, but you’re too old to take into the women’s bathroom. We have to do this out here.” “But you’ll see my --,” I was too embarrassed to say it in front of my aunt. Aunt Amanda grinned, “Honey, I’ve changed lots of little boys. I’ve even changed your diaper a few times.” I closed my eyes and let her lift my legs and clean my bottom, just like I was three years old. She finished wiping my bottom and then praised me, “You’re being such a good boy for me. It is so much easier when you’re not squirming.” She put my legs through a Pull-Up and then told me to lift up, so she could finish putting the Pull-Up on me. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” “I guess so.” I suddenly realized that everybody would see me in just the Pull-Up when I got up to put on my shorts. I asked, “Can you help me with my shorts?” “You want me to help you get dressed?” “I don’t want anybody to see me in just the Pull-Up.” She nodded and then said, “Let’s see what you have in your bag. You can’t wear the ones you were wearing because they need to be cleaned.” After she finished, she helped me up and asked, “Are you going to be a good boy?” I nodded, and she took the pacifier out of my mouth and said, “Ok, that’s good. Keep this in your pocket to remind you what happens when you pout.” She then pointed to the package of Pull-ups and said, “These are just in case. You still need to use the potty. If you can use the potty for three days, I’ll let you wear underwear again. But, if you don’t, you are going to stay in diapers until I can potty train you. Scotty is going back to diapers because he wasn’t using the potty, and the same thing will happen to you.” Part 2 I realized that my aunt was crazy! She was completely nuts, but at fourteen years old, I didn’t have any recourse. I was in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t run away. I couldn’t fight back and change her mind. I could only stay out of her way and not rock the boat. Fortunately, I wasn’t going to keep pooping my pants and I hadn’t wet the bed since I was ten. My aunt promised to let me wear underwear again if I could stay dry for three days, which seemed easy. I expected my mom to flip out when she found out what my aunt did. It was a Monday, and my mom promised to call me on Wednesday after she got settled at her base. I just had to make it until then, and this would all be over. I felt sorry for Scott, especially when I noticed how his mom was treating him. She treated Scott like he was two years old. He had to stay close to an adult all the time and he didn’t have the same privileges that Debbie or I had. In fact, he had to sit in a highchair for dinner. I wasn’t sure if he could help it when he peed, and I wondered if he really did need diapers. I didn’t notice much at first, other than my aunt putting him in a diaper after she put me in the Pull-Up. He and Debbie both sat in car seats. He was kind of a small kid and still fit in a car seat, so that made sense to me. I remembered that I used a car seat when I was his age. He also had a sippy cup in the car, but Aunt Amanda would probably make me use a sippy cup as well. It wasn’t until we got to their house that I noticed anything. First, Aunt Amanda told me, “Tommy, you’re wearing Pull-ups, but I expect you to use the potty like a big kid. Do you want Auntie to help when you go potty?” I was trying to hide my annoyance, but my tone didn’t do much to hide it. “I can do it myself!” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes and remarked, “Ok! Just remember to tell me when you go potty.” “WHY?” “Don’t yell at me. It’s not my fault you pooped your pants. Remember, if you want me to treat you like a big kid, you have to show me that you’re a big kid.” I huffed, “Fine! But why do I need to tell you when I go to the bathroom.” “I need to make sure you’re using the potty like you should.” I gritted my teeth and said, “Fine!” I needed to pee, and I had no intention of wetting the Pull-Up, not that I felt that was likely. I tried not to sound snarky, which is difficult for an annoyed fourteen-year-old. “Can I use your bathroom?” Aunt Amanda smiled, “Of course, honey. Remember, this is your house for the summer. It’s right down the hall.” I did my thing, and when I came out, she asked, “Did you go?” I rolled my eyes, “Yes.” “Did you pee or poop?” “I peed.” In a falsely excited voice that you would use if I was just learning to use the potty, my aunt cried out, “GOOD JOB! I’m so proud of you. Now, did you wash your hands?” In reality, I pulled my pants down low enough to aim (albeit my aim wasn’t all that great), zipped up, and left. I didn’t wash my hands, which was normal for me at the time. I replied in a halting and questioning tone, “Yes?” It sounded more like a question than a response, and I think my aunt knew I was lying. She looked at me and asked again, “Are you sure?” I gave away my deception with my stammer, “Um, uh.” “Why don’t you go wash your hands again? Remember, it’s very important to wash your hands after going pee-pee and poo-poo.” While I hated being talked to like I was a three-year-old, I knew that protests would get me nowhere. What I didn’t expect was that I would receive praise when I complied with my aunt’s absurd request. Aunt Amanda praised, “Thank you for being such a good boy; I’m glad you washed your hands.” I know this sounds strange, but I didn’t get much praise from adults back then. My mom tended to criticize me most of the time. She didn’t like my grades; she got mad when I played video games for long periods, and she was mad when I didn’t put away my things. It felt like anything I did was going to make her mad, and when she wasn’t mad, she ignored me. Even my teachers got upset with me, and when I was praised, it was backhanded praise. It was always something like; “See, look what you can do when you apply yourself.” Suddenly my aunt praised me twice in just a few minutes. Ok, it was for peeing in the toilet and washing my hands, but she sounded genuinely proud of me. My aunt changed Scott’s diaper in the living room, right in front of everybody. It seemed weird to me, but my aunt is crazy. It wouldn’t be unusual if he was only three years old, so my aunt didn’t think it was unusual now. At least, she acted like it was normal. Scott seemed resigned to his fate, although he begged me not to watch. Unfortunately, I couldn’t turn away. After his diaper was changed, Scott returned to his cheery self and asked, “Can Tommy and I go play in the yard?” They had a neat playset that he was excited to show me. My aunt shook her head, “I’m sorry, honey. Mommy has to put stuff away, and you need somebody to watch you.” He immediately protested, “But Debbie is playing outside.” “Debbie is a big girl, and big kids can play outside if they are careful.” “I’m a big kid.” Scott’s voice was more of a whine than a true protest, and I’m sure he knew what his mom would say next. “Do big kids wear diapers?” Scott smirked, “Sometimes?” “No, they don’t. Big kids use the potty. When you use the potty, you get big kid privileges.” I felt bad. A few years ago, Scott was still in diapers, but my aunt let him go outside as long as he stayed with me. I figured the same thing still applied and I said, “I can watch him.” “Sorry, but I don’t think so. You haven’t shown me that you are responsible enough yet.” “WHAT?” Aunt Amanda shot me a disapproving look and remarked, “Maybe if you can show me that you can handle responsibility, I’ll let you watch Scotty. But not yet.” She then looked over to Scott, whose face was disappointed, and said, “I’ll tell you what. Jessica is next door, and maybe she is willing to watch you while I get dinner ready.” Jessica looked close to my age. Based on her looks, I figured she was in middle school. Aunt Amanda asked Jessica, “Can you do me a favor? Scott wants to show his cousin the playset outside, but he’s been put back in diapers and doesn’t have big boy privileges.” Jessica smiled, “More accidents?” “I’m afraid so. He wet himself twice on the ride to pick Tommy up.” Jessica nodded and agreed to take us outside. It felt like she was babysitting me as well, which was strange. Jessica asked, “You look old enough to babysit; how old are you?” Now, I was somewhat embarrassed, but maybe I could impress her if she knew I was in high school. I guessed she was in eighth grade, and she might think it’s cool to date a kid in high school. That’s what boys my age should do, and I hoped that she could be my girlfriend for the summer. This summer might not suck so bad if I had a girlfriend. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get a girlfriend, and I only wanted one because that’s what I thought every boy my age wanted. I confidently gloated, “I’m fourteen. I’m going to high school next year.” Jessica didn’t seem all that impressed with a fourteen-year-old who wasn’t even allowed to watch his younger cousin for a few minutes. “Really? Why didn’t Mrs. Whitmore let you watch Scott?” I shrugged and said, “I don’t know; I think she is mad at me.” “Already? What did you do?” I hoped that sounding like a bad boy would help my cause and responded, “She talked down to me, and I don’t let people do that. I’m not a little kid, so you got to treat me with respect.” “I see.” She smirked with a kind of mocking tone, and replied, “Well, I’m younger than you. I’m only thirteen, and I’m going into eighth grade.” She then noticed the elastic band of my Pull-Up peeking above my shorts. “Is that a Pull-Up?” My eyes grew big, and I tried to hide it, but I am terrible at lying. Everybody knows when I’m lying. “NO! Do you think I’m wearing Pull-ups?” “Whatever, dude. It looks like you are wearing Pull-ups.” “Well, I’m not.” “If you say so. Just remember, if you are, you still have to use the bathroom. Your aunt is really strict about that.” I shook my head and turned my attention to Scott. They did have a cool playset. It had a jungle gym, a tire swing, and a teeter-totter. If I was still a little kid, I would probably think it was the coolest thing, but I wasn’t supposed to be impressed with stuff like that at fourteen. Scott whined when his mom pulled out the highchair. “Please, Mommy. I don’t want to sit in the highchair.” Aunt Amanda put a pacifier in Scott’s mouth and said, “That’s enough whining out of you. If you want to be a big kid, you have to use the potty. If you keep whining, you are going to sit in your playpen until everybody finishes dinner.” While I did feel sorry for Scott, I knew it was a bad idea to argue with my aunt. I ate in silence, hoping to avoid making her mad. Fortunately, Aunt Amanda left me on my own, but she did have to remind me to clear my plate when I was done. I guess my mom was right; I wasn’t very responsible. We finished dinner, and Aunt Amanda announced, “Ok, kids, it is time to get ready for bed. Tommy, go take a shower and then put on your PJs.” “What? It’s only seven o’clock.” “Yes. It’s almost bedtime. Go shower and put on your pajamas.” Her tone was getting more and more insistent. “I don’t wear pajamas. I don’t have any.” Aunt Amanda looked disgusted. “You don’t. That’s not going to work. It’s too late tonight, but tomorrow we need to buy you some pajamas. I guess you can wear one of Uncle Ron’s tee shirts tonight.” She waved her hands and warned, “Now take off your clothes, and go take a shower. Don’t make me ask you again!” I knew it was a bad idea to test Aunt Amanda any further, so I stripped down to let her inspect my Pull-Up. She praised, “It’s still dry; that’s good. Hopefully, you’ll stay dry for three more days, and you can get your big kid underwear back. Now it’s time for you to take a shower.” “But it’s early,” I complained. “No, it’s not. It’s almost bedtime. Maybe I’ll have to give you and Scott a bath together.” “I don’t take baths.” “Then go take a shower.” Once again, my attempt to establish independence failed miserably. Scott was getting his diaper changed on the floor when I came out. I didn’t have any clothes with me, so I wrapped a towel around my body and asked, “Where is my underwear?” Aunt Amanda pointed to a tee shirt and said, “I’ve got a shirt for you to wear, but I need to put a diaper on you first.” “What? I don’t need diapers.” She asked, “Are you sure about that? You pooped your pants today.” “I don’t wet the bed anymore, I promise. You can even ask my mom.” My case wasn’t helped by the fact that Aunt Amanda knew I wet the bed until I was ten years old. Aunt Amanda was unswayed and simply replied, “I’m sorry, but no. If you need Pull-ups during the day, you have to sleep in a diaper. That’s our rule. That way, you don’t have to worry about staying dry at night until we know you are potty trained during the day.” She was crazy, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I remarked, “I’m going to tell my mom.” Aunt Amanda was unimpressed and scoffed, “You are? Are you going to tell her you pooped your pants? Your mommy told you to follow our rules, right?” I nodded. “And in our house, big boys don’t poop their pants, do they?” I nodded. “Until I know that you can use the potty like a big boy, you need to wear a diaper at night. Now lie down, so I can get you ready for bed.” She held a pacifier in her hand and ordered, “That’s enough pouting. Now, open up.” I obliged and allowed my aunt to plop the pacifier in my mouth, and reluctantly laid down on the mat. I was trying to hold back cries and sobbed, “Why are you punishing me? It was an accident; I didn’t do it on purpose.” Aunt Amanda hugged me and said, “Honey, I’m not punishing you for pooping your pants.” “You aren’t? It feels like it.” “Well, I’m not. Do you think wearing glasses is punishment?” “No.” “Well, it’s the same with diapers. I don’t want you to pee in your sleep, and the diaper protects it.” “But I don’t pee in my sleep,” I cried. “And if you can show me that’s true, you won’t need diapers anymore. Ok, it’s getting late. I’m going to read you guys a story, and then it’s off to bed.” My uncle’s shirt fit me more like a dress than a shirt. It dropped down to my knees, which made it look like I was wearing a nightgown. Aunt Amanda asked, “How does that feel, sweetie?” “I don’t like it. It feels like I’m wearing a nightgown.” “I agree, but it’s all we have tonight. We’ll get some pajamas for you tomorrow.” We snuggled up next to my aunt, and she told us a story of a boy in a magic land, which was kind of like Jack and The Beanstalk, but her original version. That’s what my dad used to do before he died, and I missed hearing his wonderful stories. After the story, my aunt took us to our rooms. Debbie’s room was a little girl’s room with a lot of pink, and there was a princess bed in the corner. Then we walked into a room that looked like a nursery with two cribs. Aunt Amanda said, “Tommy, you’ll sleep here with Scott.” I cried, “That’s a crib!” She calmly remarked, “Yeah, fortunately, Debbie has a big kid bed, so you can use her old crib.” I cried, “I can’t sleep in a crib. I’m not a baby.” I wanted to avoid the pacifier and stay calm, but it made no sense. I’m fourteen years old; it’s still daylight and I’m being sent to bed; I’m wearing a diaper, and now she is making me sleep in a crib! Aunt Amanda countered, “Little kids sleep in a crib.” “But I’m not a little kid, I’m a teenager.” “Big kids don’t wear diapers.” “But I don’t need a diaper.” “Did you poop your pants?” It was a vicious cycle. When I reminded her that I wasn’t a baby, she told me that big kids don’t wear diapers. I whined that I didn’t need the diaper, but she reminded me that I pooped my pants. I needed the diaper because I pooped my pants, and I needed to sleep in a crib because I was wearing a diaper. I tried more tactics to delay my bedtime. I said, “I’m not tired; it’s too early to go to bed.” Aunt Amanda countered, “You’re pouting, and you’re cranky, so I can tell you are tired. It’s time for bed.” “I’m thirsty.” She pointed to a baby bottle. “There is a bottle for you to drink.” She then warned, “Scott already knows this, but I want to make sure you know. Stay in your crib until I get you.” I suddenly found a flaw in her plan. I can’t pee in the toilet if I’m stuck in a crib. She had to lower the rails. “What happens if I wake up and need to pee? If I use the diaper, you’re going to think that I peed in my sleep.” She paused a second and then said, “Scotty sleeps through the night, so usually that’s not a problem. But there is a baby monitor on, and I can hear when you cry. Just remember, if I take you to the potty, you better pee.” In reality, at that age, I rarely woke up in the middle of the night. I usually slept until the morning, and peed after I woke up. I got in the crib, and I have to admit it felt nice when Aunt Amanda tucked me in. She calmly said, “Good Nite.” It was strange; I hated all the baby treatment, but the attention felt good. I never got that attention at home. Part 3 After his mom left, Scott asked “Do you wet the bed at home?” I replied, “No, I don’t pee at night.” I could have left it at that, but I felt an odd sense of companionship with Scott. I shared, “But I used to.” There was a sense of relief in Scott’s voice. He knew he wasn’t alone in his plight. “Really! How long did you wet the bed?” “I wet the bed until I was ten.” “Oh, did your mommy make you wear diapers as well?” I answered, “No. I used to just wet the bed, and then my mom would get mad.” Scott replied, “Mommy makes me wear diapers, but she doesn’t get mad if I’m wet. Debbie used to wet the bed too, but she stopped. Mommy told me that I’ll get a big kid bed if I can stay dry three times in a row.” I asked, “Do you wear diapers during the day all the time?” Scott said, “No, only when I have too many accidents. When I have accidents, I have to stay in diapers until Mommy can potty train me. Sometimes I even get to wear real underwear like other big kids, but then I pee my pants and have to wear Pull-Ups.” “How long will you have to wear diapers now?” “I don’t know. A few days. I can’t use the potty until Mommy lets me.” Aunt Amanda chimed in on the monitor with an annoyed tone. “It’s bedtime. No more talking!” My aunt is crazy! Scott is going to be treated like a baby until he stops wetting his pants, and it might be three more years until she lets him sleep in a real bed. That’s what would have happened to me. If my mom acted like Aunt Amanda, I would have slept in a crib until I was ten, and I used to wet my pans as well. I might have had to wear diapers during the day! At least I knew this wouldn’t last forever. I hoped my mom would make Aunt Amanda stop and everything would be back to normal. I thought about making my aunt wake up in the middle of the night to take me to the bathroom. I figured it would be a good punishment for doing this to me. However, there weren’t any clocks in the nursery. It was just a night light and curtains. Even if I woke up in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t know what time it was. I ended up falling asleep and slept until my aunt woke me up. “It’s time to wake up. I want to check your diaper.” She put her hand on the diaper and said, “Good, it’s still dry.” In a smug voice, I chimed, “See, I told you. I don’t wet the bed.” Aunt Amanda grinned and said, “We’ve got to make sure you are potty trained during the day before we can worry about nighttime.” She handed me a new Pull-Up and said, “Try to keep these dry, remember to use the potty.” I protested, “I don’t have accidents!” Aunt Amanda replied, “You did yesterday. If you stay dry through Thursday, I’ll give you big kid underwear on Friday.” “WHAT? It’s only supposed to be for three days. That’s the day after tomorrow!” Aunt Amanda shook her head, put the pacifier in my mouth, and warned, “Stop whining. Yesterday doesn’t count because you had an accident.” Scott sat in his highchair for breakfast, and then Aunt Amanda got ready to take us to Reno, which I think was to buy me some pajamas. I guess they had to buy some other stuff as well, but I didn’t pay too much attention. I just followed along. Other than the thick padded underwear that I was wearing, my aunt didn’t treat me much differently than I got from my mom. She even let me go into the men’s bathroom by myself, which shouldn’t have sounded like a big deal, but it was. On the other hand, Scott was pushed in a stroller, and Debbie kept close to her mom the whole time. Debbie might have technically been a big kid, but she was still only five years old and didn’t have much independence. I got into a small tussle with my aunt at the store. I wanted to buy something from the men’s section, but my aunt knew those clothes were too big for me. At the time, I wasn’t quite big enough for men’s clothes, but baggy clothes were more popular. I pointed to the men’s section and whined, “I want to go there.” “No, Tommy. Those are too big. You still need boy’s clothing.” “But I like them big.” “I’m not buying clothes that fit you like a dress.” I stomped and huffed, “It’s not fair.” I had a sour demeanor and didn’t like anything that my aunt showed. She eventually got tired of it and just picked something out herself. To my dismay, most of the pajamas had themes that were for younger kids. Things like Pokémon or Power Rangers. She remembered that I liked airplanes when I was younger, and she found a pair that had airplanes on it. She showed them to me and said, “How about these? You like airplanes, don’t you?” These would have been the pajamas that I would have picked if I was younger, and I really do like airplanes. If I had to get some pajamas, they wouldn’t be so bad. I held back my excitement and answered, “They are kind of babyish.” “Well, I think they look cute. Go try them on.” By the way, fourteen-year-old boys do not like ‘cute’ things. “Do I have to?” “Yes, you do; I want to make sure they fit.” Fortunately, Aunt Amanda didn’t make me parade out of the dressing room, and I got to take them off once she knew they fit. She didn’t make Scott sit in a highchair at the In-n-Out. I guess she didn’t think that was necessary, and it saved Scott a whole lot of embarrassment. Other than making me tell her when I went to the bathroom, she left me alone after we got home. She was concerned that I hadn’t pooped and wanted me to try and poop when we got home. No fourteen-year-old boy wants to discuss bowel movements with his aunt, but she reminded me that I was supposed to tell her when I used the potty. We followed the same routine that night, which included me having to strip down to let my aunt inspect my Pull-Up. She noted that it was dry and praised me for it. “Good job. You get a smiley face. Only two more days until you earn your big kid pants.” I mumbled something under my breath, and she chastised me for being a sourpuss. I was once again back in the nursery, sleeping in a crib and it was still light outside. Part 4 I was dry again in the morning, and I made sure to gloat when Aunt Amanda woke us up. She said, “You’re dry. Do you need to go pee-pee?” I nodded and smugly said, “See, I told you.” My aunt remarked, “First, we need to make sure you stay dry during the day.” I wanted to tell her that I was already potty trained, but I knew it would just put us in a vicious cycle. I did my business in the bathroom and then took a seat next to Scott in his highchair. My aunt looked at me and asked, “Did you pee, or did you poop?” I tried not to sound snarky, but I probably did. “I just peed.” I was a little more excited when I added, “And I washed my hands, too.” Aunt Amanda smiled and said, “Good job, and you did it without being reminded.” I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely proud of me, or just being snide. It didn’t matter at the time; I was too excited about the phone call from my mom later that morning. All I needed to do was let my mom know what my aunt was doing. There was no way my mom would let Aunt Amanda keep treating me like a baby. My mom was always telling me that it was time to grow up, but that wouldn’t be possible if I was literally treated like a baby. The call was just before lunch, which was nighttime at my mom’s base. She wasn’t allowed to tell me where she was, but it looked like just another Army base. I have to admit, it was kind of cool seeing her. It had only been two days, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, I missed her. However, I had business to conduct. I had to let her know what my aunt did. The first thing I said was, “Mom, can I go somewhere else for the summer?” My mom shook her head. “I’m afraid not, honey. Aunt Amanda is the only person who can watch you this summer.” “But Aunt Amanda is crazy!” “Why do you say that?” “Mom! She is making me wear Pull-ups, like the kind that little kids wear.” I figured that would get her attention, but Mom didn’t seem surprised. “Aunt Amanda told me that you pooped your pants in the car on Monday.” I tried to think of an excuse, “Yeah, but.” “She wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” “Mom, I’m fourteen. It won’t happen again.” “It’s only been two days; how do you know it won’t happen again?” I cried, “It was an accident.” Mom countered, “Isn’t that what the Pull-ups are for?” I smirked, “If I was three.” Mom was not impressed and said, “You pooped your pants, and you’re fourteen. What does that say about you?” It wasn’t going how I expected. “Mom! She is making me sleep in a crib, and I have to go to bed at eight o’clock. It’s not even dark yet!” I could have told her about the diapers, but I didn’t want her to know about that. My mom was undeterred, “Tommy, I told you before you left that you’re going to have to follow Aunt Amanda’s rules.” “But.” My mom interrupted me, “I know that I did things differently when you were little but let me ask you this. Are you going to poop your pants again?” I immediately shouted, “No!” “Are you going to wet the bed?” “NO!” “Good, then it’s working. You know that Scott still has problems making it to the potty, just like you did.” My mom liked to remind me about my potty issues when I was little. “Scott has to wear Pull-ups when he doesn’t make it to the bathroom, and she has to treat you the same way. It’s only fair, right?” I guess I was supposed to nod in agreement, but I just rolled my eyes. Mom continued, “Look, I don’t expect you to have any issues. It’s just three days, and then everything will be back to normal. You’ll get your own room, and you can stay up as late as you want. She will leave you alone and let you do whatever you want, within reason.” My mom saw the disappointment on my face and scoffed, “Tommy, don’t give me that look. You’re a lot older than Scott, so I expect more from you. Pooping your pants is just not acceptable. At the very least, you should have to follow the same rules.” I shook my head, but Mom ignored it. “Maybe if I made you wear Pull-ups and diapers when you were younger, you wouldn’t have kept wetting your pants.” I sulked in protest, “I’m not a baby!” It was supposed to sound defiant and strong, but it came off more like a whine. My mom rolled her eyes and gave me that disapproving look that only a mom can give. “Tommy Michael Montgomery,” she used all three of my names, and any kid knows that’s never good. “Aunt Amanda told me that you’ve done nothing but pout and sulk. If you don’t get your way, you pout and throw a tantrum. I already told you that if you want Aunt Amanda to treat you like a teenager, you have to act like it. You have to be mature and responsible. You have to help around the house and do your chores without being asked. Don’t whine, don’t pout, and don’t throw tantrums when you don’t get your way. If you keep acting like a baby, you should be treated like one.” That conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, and I fought back the tears when we hung up. I didn’t mean to cry, but I felt hopeless. I was stuck living under my aunt’s absurd rules for the whole summer. Part 5 After my mom failed to come to my rescue, I sulked for the rest of the day, which I guess kind of proved her point. I didn’t get my way and just moped around for the rest of the day without talking to anybody. In my mind, it was safer to stay silent. If I did talk, my aunt would just make me suck on a pacifier to keep me from pouting. I kept to myself, read some books, and looked at my phone. I wanted to go to my room, but my room was the nursery with the crib in it. Fortunately, my aunt left me alone. She asked me to do some minor chores, which I complained about until she said, “Tommy, don’t you want me to treat you like a big kid.” Oddly, I wasn’t treated like a baby during the day. It was nothing like how she treated Scott, who wasn’t allowed to do much of anything. Scott had to stay close to an adult, or Jessica at all times. He had to take a nap after lunch, and there was the highchair and sippy cups. He also didn’t have any chores, short of putting the toys back. I wasn’t even treated like Debbie, who technically was considered a big kid, but she was still kind of little and needed to be watched closely. She still took a nap, but she slept in her own bed. Other than the Pull-ups, my aunt didn’t treat me that much differently than I hope she would have. My aunt didn’t even have a problem letting me explore the property near their house, which was something that my mom didn’t always allow. Things always took a drastic turn after dinner. That’s when I had to take my shower, get diapered for bed, and then put in a crib at a ridiculously early hour. From dinner till morning, I was just a little baby who wore diapers and slept in a crib. Complaining about it didn’t do any good, and I didn’t hate all of it. To be honest, I really enjoyed our story time when we would cuddle up next to my aunt and listen to her wonderful stories. I kind of wondered what it would feel like to pee in the Pull-up. It’s no secret that I wet the bed, and even had accidents during the day when I was younger, but my mom stopped using diapers and Pull-ups after I started school. She said, “You’re a big kid and big kids don’t wear diapers.” I wished I could just go back to diapers and not wake up with pee all over me. Especially because my mom would yell at me, and I was still crying when I got to school. I asked Scott, “What happens if I accidentally pee in my Pull-up?” I had to do that on the sly, because I didn’t want my aunt or Jessica to know what I was thinking, nor did I want anybody to think that I really needed them. Scott answered, “Mommy just helps me change, and then reminds me that big kids use the potty. Mommy puts me back in diapers if I do it again.” I asked, “Does she get mad?” My mom used to get furious when I had an accident. Scott shook his head, “No. Mommy never gets mad. Even when I have to wear diapers. She says that I’m just not ready, and that’s why I still need diapers.” I knew that was true. I never saw Aunt Amanda get upset about changing diapers, nor did she say anything mean. She had a really strict ‘no teasing’ policy in her house, so I didn’t even have to worry about getting teased. I could wet myself one time, and nobody would say anything. However, I didn’t want to give Aunt Amanda the satisfaction. I wanted her to know just how ridiculous it was to put a fourteen-year-old kid in a Pull-up and make him sleep in a crib like a baby. I used the bathroom and didn’t have any accidents. Aunt Amanda inspected my final Pull-up Thursday night after dinner, and upon seeing that it was still dry, put a third smiley face on my chart. “That’s three smiley faces in a row, do you know what that means?” I smugly replied, “It means I don’t have to wear these stupid Pull-ups anymore.” My aunt didn’t like the tone of my reply and shot me a terse look, “Is that what you say Tommy?” I immediately shrank back down and meekly mouthed, “Sorry.” I couldn’t risk giving my aunt ammunition to extend my time in Pull-ups. She nodded, and so I answered more appropriately, “It means that I can wear underwear tomorrow.” Aunt Amanda nodded and announced, “Yes, Tommy has proven that he is ready for big boy pants. No more Pull-ups for Tommy!” My cousins both raised their hands and shouted, “Hooray for Tommy!” She had the nighttime diapers laid out and I asked, “What about those, why do I still need to wear diapers at night?” Aunt Amanda kept telling me that we were only concentrating on my daytime potty training, so I should have realized I would have to wear a diaper for a few more nights. “Now that we’ve taken care of your potty training during the day, it’s time for you to show me you can be dry at night.” I pouted, “That’s not fair! I haven’t been wet all week. Why do I still have to wear diapers?” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes, grabbed a pacifier, and ordered, “Open up.” I started to protest, but she plopped the pacifier in my mouth and said, “We don’t whine in this house. Go stand in the corner and I’ll get you when I finish with Scotty.” I stomped to the corner and sulked as my aunt took care of Scott. I heard her giving Scott loads of attention. I once saw a kid getting treated like a baby by his mom and it was so different than what my aunt was doing. That kid’s mom was mean and making fun of him, while my aunt didn’t even seem mad. Part of me was mad at her. I couldn’t believe my aunt was doing this to me, but another part of me was mad at myself. I knew I wasn’t helping myself by throwing tantrums. Things were so much easier for me when I just let her do her thing. What if she decided I wasn’t a big kid yet, and made me wear diapers all the time? Aunt Amanda didn’t seem mad when she came to the corner. I mouthed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get mad.” My aunt hugged me and said, “I know honey. You’re just over-excited and tired. Let’s get you diapered and ready for bed.” I had tears in my eyes and asked, “Do I still have to wear Pull-ups tomorrow?” She had a confused look and remarked, “Of course not. You earned big boy pants, remember?” “But I threw a tantrum.” “That’s not good, but if you don’t make it a habit, we won’t worry about it.” I asked, “How much longer do I need to wear diapers at night?” Aunt Amanda replied, “Now that we know that you are potty trained during the day, it’s time to see if you can stay dry overnight. If you are dry three nights in a row, you can move to Pull-ups.” “Will I have to sleep in a crib after that?” Aunt Amanda shook her head and reminded me, “Big kids sleep in a bed. You’ll get to sleep in the guest room. That’s where you were going to sleep until you pooped your pants.” “What about my bedtime?” “You’ll be a big kid, so you should get a big kid bedtime. You’re fourteen, so this summer will be a good chance to show that you can manage your own bedtimes. First, show me that you are ready, and I’ll treat you like you’re in high school. Does that sound good?” I had time to think after my aunt finished her story and tucked us in our cribs. I allowed my aunt to put me in a diaper and make me sleep in a baby crib, even though I didn’t wet the bed, and then she made me feel guilty when I complained about it. She wasn’t only crazy; she was evil. I did the math in my head. Three nights would take me to Sunday morning, which was a week after I got here. I wondered if this was all part of an elaborate plot my mom concocted to get me to grow up. Maybe she planned this whole thing! I get treated like a baby for one week just to make me realize I shouldn’t be acting like a child. I thought about punishing my aunt by using the diaper, but based on how she treated Scott, it didn’t seem like much of a punishment. She didn’t seem to think it was a big deal to change his diaper, even when it was poopy. I would just have to wear diapers a while longer. Aunt Amanda would wake us up around seven o’clock, which was much earlier than I wanted to get up. However, my bedtime was so early that I wasn’t groggy in the morning and didn’t get cranky. My aunt praised me when I was still dry the next two mornings. She then removed the diaper, wiped the area, and let me get dressed in the bathroom. She typically waited until Scott had breakfast before changing his diaper, so he ate breakfast from his highchair while staying in his soggy diaper. For me, everything was normal during the day, just like it would be if I never had to wear Pull-ups. Aunt Amanda gave me some chores, which I would eventually do after getting tired of her nagging, and then leave me alone for the rest of the day. I usually kept myself entertained and didn’t bother anybody. Aunt Amanda worked from home and paid Jessica to help keep an eye on Debbie and Scott. My aunt did most of the parenting, but Jessica was there to help. It was very clear that my aunt felt Jessica was more mature than me and far more responsible. My aunt didn’t think I was mature enough to watch Scott or Debbie, even if we were just outside. Jessica didn’t seem all that interested in me. I think she knew about my Pull-ups, and she probably knew the second crib was mine, but she mostly ignored me during the day. At first, I tried to avoid being around my younger cousins, because I felt like another little kid. However, as the week progressed, I didn’t seem to mind it and spent more time around my cousins. Scott liked a lot of the same things I did when I was little, so it was kind of fun playing with him. I started to get these weird thoughts in my head. It is hard to explain, but I was a little envious, especially with all the attention everybody gave to Scott. I still counted how many days I had left in diapers, but I started to accept and even eagerly anticipate the nightly diapering routine. By Saturday night, I offered no resistance when it was time to get ready for bed and compliantly allowed my aunt to change my diaper. It was enough that she commented, “My, you are so calm and being such a good boy. I didn’t even have to tell you to stop wriggling.” She started to say something else and stopped herself. I remember thinking she was going to say, “It is almost like you like it,” but then decided to stop. I was desperately trying to convince myself that I hated it, but I knew that wasn’t true. She finished up, hugged me, and said, “If you’re dry tomorrow, I won’t need to do this again. You won’t need diapers anymore. Isn’t that nice?” I answered with an awkward, “Yeah.” I wanted to sound excited and with a huge sense of relief. My nightmare was finally over, but it was hard to hide the reality. I think I came off sounding disappointed. I tried to regain my composure and asked, “Will I still have to go to bed so early?” Aunt Amanda smiled and answered, “Of course not. You and Scotty have an early bedtime because little kids need more sleep. If you show me that you’re not a little kid, I can treat you like a big kid.” I said, “Thank you,” but part of me was disappointed. I didn’t think my mom cared about me anymore. It felt like Aunt Amanda really did care, especially when she was putting me in diapers and being so nice. I wondered if that would stop when I didn’t need diapers. This was my sixth night wearing a diaper, and I still hadn’t peed in one. I had the Pull-ups for three days and never wet one. I asked Scott how it felt when he wet his diaper, but the question sounded weird, and Scott didn’t know how to answer. This was my chance to see what it felt like to pee in a diaper. I didn’t think Aunt Amanda would get mad. That’s what the diaper is for. It would mean another three nights in the nursery, but that didn’t seem so bad. I felt a slight pressure on my bladder. It wasn’t that strong, but it was enough that I could pee if I wanted. I thought, “Why not just pee in my diaper?” It was harder than I expected, but I eventually started to pee. The warmth spread and I fell back asleep wondering what my aunt would say in the morning. Part 6 It’s a lot harder to start to pee when you think you should only pee in the toilet. I had to think about standing in front of a toilet, and really concentrate, but I managed to pee in the diaper. I rolled over and fell back asleep. I was already awake when Aunt Amanda came into the nursery. I let her discover my wet diaper when she checked. In my mind, it sounded more believable if I didn’t know I was wet. She checked Scott first, and it wasn’t a surprise that he wet his diaper. Scott always woke up with a wet diaper and my aunt just said, “You’re wet again, but that’s why you need diapers. We’ll change it after breakfast.” She came to me and gently tapped, “Are you awake?” I nodded and she replied, “Let’s see how you did last night.” She looked surprised when she felt my diaper. I hadn’t wet my diaper all week, so I’m sure she expected me to be dry. “Uh-oh, it looks like you wet your diaper. I guess it’s a good thing you wore one last night.” I pretended to look disappointed, but in reality, I loved it. Aunt Amanda hugged me and said, “It’s ok, honey. Sometimes these things happen. Let’s have some breakfast, and then we will take care of your wet diaper. Do you want to go pee-pee in the potty?” I shook my head, even though I needed to pee. It wasn’t urgent because I peed two more times that night. I asked, “Do I have to wear Pull-ups, or a diaper today?” Aunt Amanda shook her head and said, “No, honey you’ve shown me that you are potty trained during the day, it just doesn’t look like you’re ready for a big boy bed. I think you’ll get there, but you have to sleep in here until you do.” I guess I was supposed to be upset about that, but I meekly accepted my fate. My aunt pulled a second highchair from the closet and brought it to the table. I asked, “Do I have to sit in that?” My aunt answered calmly and matter-of-factly, “Yes, little kids sit in highchairs.” It made no sense, but a part of me was curious about what baby treatment was like. I complained, “I’m not a little kid.” It wasn’t a strong protest; I was genuinely confused. This was the first time she made me sit in a highchair. Aunt Amanda asked, “Is your diaper wet?” I had to admit the truth and nodded. She said, “Ok then, hop up. In my house, little kids who wear diapers have to sit in a highchair.” Debbie saw me sitting in the highchair and asked, “Why is Tommy in a highchair?” “His diaper is wet, and that means he eats breakfast in a highchair.” As if that was completely normal, Debbie responded, “Oh, yeah.” It sounded like this made perfect sense to her and wasn’t anything to be concerned about. She also knew enough to avoid saying anything that could be considered teasing. I know my aunt wanted to humiliate us. We wet our diapers like babies therefore we should be treated like babies. She tied a bib around my neck, cut my pancakes into bite-sized pieces, and handed me a sippy cup full of juice. It was just like she did with Scott, and just like she would if I was two years old. I was embarrassed but oddly enjoyed the spectacle. She changed my diaper after breakfast, and it was more involved than any of the previous diaper changes. When my diaper was dry, my aunt just did a quick wipe and then sent me to the bathroom to get dressed. This time, she took her time and made sure the diaper area was clean and dry. She also took time to clean my butt, just like she did when I pooped my pants. It was more than just a few wipes, so I don’t think I was very clean down there, but my aunt didn’t say anything about it. I think it was about five minutes later when she finally handed me my underwear and said, “Off you go, honey. You’re a big boy now.” I was the same awkward teenager I always was. Based on how she treated me that Sunday morning, I knew I would get the same treatment Scott was getting if I wet myself during the day. I knew her system. I would have to wear Pull-ups if I had an accident, and I would go back to diapers if I had too many accidents in Pull-ups. I knew I would get the full baby treatment, just like Scott. I wasn’t sure how long the baby treatment would last, nor did I know how many times I could wet a Pull-up before getting put in a diaper. It was almost a full week, and Scott was still in diapers all the time. Scott never asked to use the bathroom, and she never took him. She said they were taking a break from potty training, but I didn’t know how long the break would be. What if she makes him do this all summer? What happens if she puts me in a diaper? I’d like to say that the bug was out of my system. I peed in my diaper and knew what it felt like, which is what I wanted. However, I wanted it more, and not less. I thought about wetting my pants that Sunday afternoon. I might have done it, but I was too scared. I wanted to wet my diaper again the next night, but it is hard to pee in a diaper when you are used to using the potty. I slept the whole night and was still dry when my aunt woke us up. She took off the dry diaper, gave me the appropriate kudos, and sent me on my way. I ate breakfast from a normal chair, and my aunt went back to ignoring me most of the time. That was the day that Scott started potty training. I was a single child, so I didn’t know how little kids learned to use the potty. My experience was a bit rough. I remember my mom getting mad at me when I didn’t make it to the potty, but I didn’t understand how kids learned when they needed to go. My aunt seemed to be calmer and a lot nicer than my mom. She didn’t yell and didn’t make him sit on the toilet unless he asked. When she knew he was ready to poo, she asked, “Scotty, do you want to try to use the potty?” He nodded and she praised him when he pooped in the toilet. She then asked me, “Tommy, Scotty wants to use the potty like a big boy. Can you show him how big boys use the potty?” I was confused and answered, “Yeah? what do I have to do?” “It is really easy, just make sure to take Scotty with you when you use the potty. You can model how big boys use the potty.” I was fourteen, and it was weird bringing my seven-year-old cousin with me when I peed in the toilet. I didn’t want to do that, and I am ashamed to admit this, but I wanted Scott to stay in diapers. I think I only did it one time, and that was when my aunt was watching. That first day, my aunt asked Scott if he needed to use the potty and praised him when he went. The second day, which was a Tuesday, she told him, “Scotty, big boys don’t need to be told when it is time to use the potty. If you need to use the potty, ask me and I will take you.” I think Scott asked her a few times, but most of the time, he just used his diaper. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or couldn’t tell when he needed to pee. Either way, my aunt didn’t get mad. She just said, “I guess you are not ready. We’ll take a break and try again later.” I figured my aunt wanted to put Scott in Pull-ups, just like she did with me after I pooped my pants. If he did make it three days without an accident, he could wear underwear. I started to do the math. I wanted to see how long Scott would have to wear diapers, and how long until he could get to full big-boy status. At least, that’s what I told myself. In reality, I wanted to know how long it would take to go back to normal after being put in diapers. It was a whole week until my aunt started to potty train Scott again, and I figured that’s what would happen to me. I knew it would be another three days in Pull-ups, and then three more nights wearing diapers to bed. Obviously, that included sleeping in the crib the whole time and getting treated like a baby while wearing a diaper. That was only two weeks, which didn’t seem that bad. I knew I would have to act fast if I wanted to do this. My aunt just put Scott back in diapers, and it would be another week until she tried to potty train him again. If it happened soon, Scott and I would be babies together. However, there was a chance that Scott would be potty trained and out of diapers, while I still needed them. It sounds weird, but I didn’t want to be the only one treated like a baby. I considered wetting my pants right there, but I had to make it seem real. It would look suspicious if I started to wet my pants for no reason. However, my aunt knew I used to wet the bed, and I just wet the bed again on Sunday. Maybe, if I wet the bed, she would think it came back. It made sense, to me, that if I was already wetting the bed, I could have accidents during the day. That night I set my plan into action. First, I peed in the diaper before I fell asleep. My aunt had to think I was wetting the bed again, and I couldn’t risk another dry diaper. That meant I had to sleep in a wet diaper all night, but I didn’t mind. The second part of my plan came after our highchair ritual. Aunt Amanda was working from the patio as I played with Scott and Debbie. We were running around like little kids, and I felt the urge to pee. I wanted to make sure I could pee when we were outside, so I didn’t go before we started to play. I made sure nobody was watching, closed my eyes, and started to pee in my pants. I felt the warm liquid stream down my legs and looked down at the obvious sign that I wet my pants. This set up a problem I hadn’t considered. My aunt had to find out, but how to I make sure it isn’t obvious that I wet myself on purpose? I asked myself, ‘What would I do if I really did wet my pants?’ When I was little, I hid my accidents to avoid punishment. However, this time I wanted to be caught. I could have easily excused myself and cleaned up in private. Nobody would ever know I peed my pants, but that’s not what I wanted. I decided to let my aunt discover it for herself, which is what happened before. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on Debbie seeing it. She saw the wet spot and said, “Tommy, you peed your pants.” I shook my head and defiantly cried, “No I didn’t. I don’t pee my pants.” “Yes, you did. It’s right there. I need to tell Mommy.” “I’ll take care of it.” “Mommy said to tell her when Scott pees his pants, so it’s the same for you.” She then shouted, “MOMMY! Tommy peed in his pants.” Aunt Amanda looked surprised and said, “He did? Tommy, what happened?” Debbie said, “We were playing, and Tommy went pee-pee.” Aunt Amanda looked at the wet spot and said, “It looks like you had an accident. I’m afraid that you need to go back to Pull-ups. Let’s get you changed.” Part 7 My aunt put a change pad on the living room floor; it was right in front of everybody. That’s what she did at night, so I don’t know why I expected any privacy. I complained, “Do we need to do this here? Can’t I go to the bathroom and clean up by myself?” My aunt looked at me like I was crazy. In her eyes, only a little kid would wet their pants, so I was just a little kid. She shook her head and said, “I have to make sure you are cleaned properly. I don’t want you to get a rash. Now, stop stalling and lie down.” I guess this was kind of what I wanted, but it scared me anyway. I was also putting on a bit of an act. I was afraid that she would suspect something if I didn’t complain. I grumbled in a whiney voice, “I don’t want to.” Aunt Amanda rolled her eyes, put a pacifier in front of my mouth, and said, “Tough, now lie down.” To be honest, I was beginning to like the pacifier. It calmed me down and helped me relax. She put the pacifier in my mouth, and I calmly laid back down on the floor. She praised me, “Good boy.” She finished wiping, helped me into the clean Pull-up, and then warned, “This is a Pull-up, not a diaper. You still need to use the potty like a big boy. If you can use the potty, you can have your big boy pants back. If not, you’re going to have to go back to diapers.” I muffled through the pacifier, “How long?” “Just like last time. Three days. You can get your big boy pants back on Saturday.” She condescendingly patted my Pull-up and said, “Go to the nursery and get dressed, then you can play with Scott and Debbie.” Going back to Pull-ups was the first part of my plan. I knew I would need more accidents to be put in diapers, but I didn’t know how many. Scott told me that he sometimes stays in Pull-ups after an accident but usually goes back to diapers if he has more than one. I figured that one accident wouldn’t be enough, and I would need to have at least two accidents in my Pull-ups. I didn’t want to make my aunt suspicious, so I didn’t have any more accidents that day. That night my aunt praised me for keeping my Pull-ups dry, and then got me ready for bed. I made sure to wet my diaper again that night. In my mind, I had to start wetting the bed to make my plan believable. It was getting easier to wet my diaper. I no longer had to visualize standing in front of a toilet. I just started to pee when I wanted to go. My aunt noted the wet diaper in the morning but didn’t seem all that concerned about my sudden bedwetting. She acted like everything was normal. I thought my plan was going well. My aunt was acting like these were real accidents, and that I might need to go back to diapers. I figured it would be fun to act like a baby for a few weeks, and I didn’t have to worry about other kids finding out. Nobody at my school would ever know. However, teenagers don’t always think about all of the factors before acting. I forgot about my mom. My mom wasn’t around, and I didn’t think she would know anything about it. It didn’t dawn on me that my aunt told my mom all about it. That was stupid! My aunt told her that I pooped my pants, so why didn’t I think my aunt would tell her that I wet my pants and started wetting the bed. Mom called me on Wednesday morning, which was the day after I peed my pants. I also wet the bed three times. A week earlier, I complained about having to sleep in a crib after pooping my pants, and now I was wetting the bed again, and I already wet my pants once. I hadn’t wet my pants since I was in 2nd grade. She asked, “Tommy, what’s going on? Do you know why you’re wetting yourself?” My first instinct was to deny it. “I’m not peeing myself.” My mom tersely replied, “Tommy, stop it! Aunt Amanda told me that you wet your diaper twice. She also told me that you peed your pants yesterday. Why is that happening?” I tried to blame my aunt. “It’s not my fault. Aunt Amanda is making me sleep in a crib, and I can’t get out when I need to pee.” Mom shook her head, “I don’t buy that one bit. You were dry for the first five nights. You only had to stay dry one more night to get out of diapers.” I dejectedly answered, “I know.” Mom continued, “What about the accident yesterday?” I stammered, trying to think of an explanation. I went back to what I used to say when I was little. I meekly answered, “I didn’t know I had to go.” Mom sighed, trying to contain her anger. “That means you have to wear Pull-ups again, right?” I was too embarrassed to answer, but I nodded to avoid more wrath. “What about this morning? Did you wet again last night?” My lack of an answer gave it away. Mom replied, “Tommy, you’re much too old to be wetting your pants like a baby. You know that if this continues, Aunt Amanda is going to make you wear diapers during the day.” I shifted my eyes away from the camera and mumbled, “I know.” “Well, is that what you want?” This was the first time Mom implied that I was doing this on purpose. I emphatically denied the charge. “No! She is going to treat me like a baby. I don’t want that. Why would you even let her do that?” I hoped turning the tables might put my mom on the defensive. My mom sighed and said, “Tommy, I can only think of two reasons that a boy your age would suddenly pee himself. You’re either doing it on purpose, or something is wrong.” “It’s not on purpose.” I protested. My mom replied, “Ok, I guess Aunt Amanda will have to take you to the doctor.” The thought of telling a doctor that I was wetting my pants was humiliating. I cried out, almost begging, “Don’t do that. Please. I’ll stop. I’ll stop, I promise.” Mom clearly didn’t believe me. She asked, “Are you telling me that you can stop? That means you’re doing this on purpose.” I was getting frustrated. She was turning everything against me. I cried out, “I’m not doing this on purpose!” “Then you can’t promise to stop.” She paused, while I tried to think of a way out. Mom continued, “It doesn’t matter anyway. You still need to go back to diapers.” “What? Why?” “Because you'll pee your pants if you don’t wear a diaper. That’s why babies wear diapers.” I whimpered, “But, she is going to treat me like a baby.” Mom replied, “Why shouldn’t she? You should be treated like a baby if you aren’t potty trained.” I protested, “I am potty trained! Stop saying that.” Mom snapped back, “You aren’t if you purposely pee your pants.” “I’m not doing it on purpose!” By this point, I was on the verge of massive tears. The kind of meltdown I only had when I was very young. “But that means you need diapers to avoid accidents, and you’re not ready to diaper yourself.” She paused in the middle to give me time to process what she was saying. I was confused, “Diapering yourself?” “That means you change your own diapers, and I don’t think you’re ready to do that.” I indignantly asked, “Why not?” “Tommy, it takes a lot of maturity to take care of your own diapers, and you’re not ready. You have to make sure you clean everything and then get rid of the diaper without making a mess. I don’t trust you to do any part of that. You don’t even pick up after yourself when you take a shower, and I still have to nag you to take a shower.” Mom continued, “If you really are having accidents, you’ll have to learn how to handle it like an adult. I can’t ask Aunt Amanda to teach you something like that, so you’ll have to wait until we get home. Until then, Aunt Amanda is going to take care of it her way.” I was stunned, and said, “But, that’s the whole summer.” Mom scoffed, “It’s probably going to be a lot longer than that. I need to see a lot more maturity from you before I’m willing to teach you. You will need to be potty trained all over again.” Once again, I protested, “I am potty trained.” “Big boys don’t pee their pants. You keep peeing and pooping in your pants, so obviously you aren’t potty trained. I didn’t do it right the first time, so maybe it is time to let Aunt Amanda have a try.” Mom saw the look on my face and asked, “Tommy, did Aunt Amanda put you in a Pull-up, or is she making you wear a diaper?” I meekly replied, “a Pull-up.” “That means she thinks you are ready to use the potty on your own. If you show her that you can be a big boy and use the potty, she won’t treat you like a baby. You can do that, can’t you?” My mom was talking to me like I was a baby. Her voice was high, and she used short phrases. She used euphemisms like potty and pee-pee, just like I was a small child. I regained my composure and said, “Mom, can you stop talking like that? It makes me feel like a baby.” Mom replied, “That’s the point, Tommy. If you don’t want to be treated like a three-year-old, stop acting like a three-year-old.” “I’m not a baby!” Mom rolled her eyes and said, “Prove it. If you want to become a teenager, act like one. Stop peeing your pants, don’t wet the bed, and stop whining when you don’t get your way. If you act like a little kid, you’re going to be treated like a little kid.” Part 8 Even though she didn’t say it, my mom thought I was wetting myself on purpose. Did she really mean it when she said that I wasn’t potty-trained? I was especially mad when she said that I was acting like a little kid, and she wanted my aunt to treat me like I was a baby. I couldn’t believe it when she said that I might stay in diapers a lot longer than just the summer. I wondered why I did this in the first place. I wished I’d never pooped my pants. I didn’t do that on purpose; that was a real accident. Everything would be normal if that didn’t happen. I wouldn’t have to wear Pull-ups and I wouldn’t have to sleep in a diaper. I asked myself, ‘Why did I want to pee in my diaper?’ That wasn’t an accident, nor was it when I peed my pants. I did that because I wanted to stay in diapers, which made no sense. What kid my age wants to wear diapers? Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like a typical teenager. I was a fourteen-year-old boy who was starting high school in a few months, but that’s not what I saw in the mirror. Physically, I didn’t look like a teenager. I wasn’t just small, I was undeveloped. The boys at my school bragged about their giant dicks, while mine was just a tiny bald little thing. Mine looked like it belonged to a little kid. Some of the boys in my class were shaving, but I didn’t even have peach fuzz. The friends I had in elementary school grew up, and I didn’t. I had a good friend named Jaxon; he was the only kid who knew that I wet my bed, and he kept my secret. I’m older than him, but he was always one of the bigger kids. He was always bigger, but by eighth grade, he towered over me. He was big, even for an adult. He wore size 13 shoes, and I wore size 6. We didn’t share many things in common anymore, so we stopped hanging out together. His friends were jerks anyway, so I tried to avoid them. I wanted to be cool, but I didn’t know how. I pretended to like girls, but I wasn’t really interested, at least in that way. The girls didn’t seem all that interested in me either, other than the ones who treated me like a little brother. Some kids thought I was gay, but I didn’t think about boys that way either. I just spent my time pretending that I was a famous athlete, or whatever cool thing I could think of. That’s fine when you’re nine years old, but not at fourteen. At first, I wanted to punish my mom for what she said. I thought about going into full baby mode. If they were going to treat me like a baby, I would become a huge brat. I would cry, throw tantrums, and do all the things that babies do when they get upset. I soon realized that wasn’t going to work, and it was better if I just proved them wrong. I had to prove that I wasn’t just some little kid who needed diapers; I was a teenager who needed independence and respect. However, that’s not who I was. My mom constantly nagged me to do my chores and then complained that I didn’t do them properly when I finally completed them. Aunt Amanda took a different route. At the end of the week, she gave me money for each chore I completed. She had to inspect it to make sure it was done correctly, but I got credit for the chore. I didn’t have to do them unless I wanted the money. It was the same for Debbie, but hers were simpler and she didn’t get as much money. I could have earned $20 for cleaning the garage, while Debbie got $1 for setting the table. At the end of the week, Debbie made three times more money than I did. I tried to be a big kid that day. I knocked a chore off the list; I vacuumed the living room. It took me four times to pass the inspection, but I finally met my aunt’s expectations. At the same time, I watched Scott happily play on the floor. He wasn’t allowed to do any chores and didn’t get an allowance. That was reserved for big kids. My aunt doted over him while changing his wet diaper, which made me jealous. I had a strange dream that night. It was about the last time I wore diapers for an extended period. I was five years old, and we went to Asia for vacation. I remember wearing diapers on the plane. I still wore diapers at night, but I didn’t wear them in the daytime anymore, and that felt weird to me. I remember that these were diapers and not Pull-ups. I had some accidents, so I had to wear diapers for the rest of the trip, which was three weeks. That’s a long time for a five-year-old. I also remember getting lost at the airport and getting put in a stroller. This wasn’t a bad memory. It was pleasant, and I didn’t care that I had to wear diapers or sit in a stroller. I woke up in a wet diaper. Having a real accident put me in a strange place. It’s hard to explain, but I used to feel special after I wet my bed. It was like a part of me was still a baby, and I didn’t want it to go away. I felt the same that morning, but I didn’t get yelled at, and I wasn’t covered in pee. After lunch, I went outside to play while my cousins took their naps. I purposely didn’t use the bathroom, and I drank two glasses of lemonade before heading outside. I was playing in a puddle when I felt the first twinge in my bladder. I told myself to let go and started to pee. I felt the warmth spread in the padding. It felt different than the cloth diapers my aunt used at night. The Pull-up was about to leak, but I kept peeing. I don’t know if my aunt was watching me, or just sensed that I had an accident. She called to me, “Tommy, come over here. I need to check your Pull-up.” I didn’t even have a chance to tell her. I was surprised, and given my condition, I was reluctant to let her see. I don’t know why I was reluctant; she was going to find out eventually. The Pull-up was close to leaking and I needed to change. How did I ever think I would get that past my aunt? I cried, “What? Why?” “You haven’t used the potty since lunch, and I need to see if you’re still dry.” I didn’t want to admit the truth. I answered, “I’m dry, and I did go. I just forgot to tell you.” “That doesn’t matter, I need to check your Pull-Up right now!” This was her no-nonsense voice, and I could tell she was out of patience. I huffed, “Ok,” and trundled over to her. I thought she would be angry when she felt my soggy Pull-up, but she wasn’t. “Oh dear, you’re wet. Is that why you didn’t want me to check?” I shot my eyes down and mumbled, “Yes.” My aunt acted like it was just an accident. “I guess you didn’t know, but you’re supposed to tell me when you have an accident sweetie. If you hide an accident again, you’ll go right back to diapers. Is that understood?” I felt guilty and looked like I was going to cry. Aunt Amanda gently hugged me and said, “It’s ok honey. Sometimes kids have accidents when they are learning to use the potty. Let’s get you cleaned up.” It was the same process that she always did, making sure to thoroughly clean and dry everything before handing me another Pull-up. She warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.” Part 9? My aunt warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.” I asked, “How long?” She looked perplexed, and asked,” How long what?” “How long will I have to stay in diapers?” Aunt Amanda tilted her head with a strange look. She asked, “Honey, is that what you want?” I don’t know what would have happened if I told her the truth. I think she was ready to put me in a diaper right there, but I didn’t want her to think I was a freak. I furiously shook my head, which was more of an act, and said, “No, no, no! I just want to know what happens if I have another accident.” Aunt Amanda was dubious but indulged me. She talked to me like I was a child. “Right now, I don’t know if you are ready to use the potty by yourself. That’s why you are wearing Pull-ups. Big kids use the potty by themselves. If you keep having accidents, I know you’re not ready. That means you need diapers, and you can’t be a big kid if you need diapers. Does that make sense?” It didn’t make any sense, but I nodded anyway. I asked, “But for how long?” “You’ll need to be potty-trained before you can wear big boy pants. That can’t happen until you are ready.” “How will you know if I’m ready?” Aunt Amanda calmly answered, “It depends. I knew that Debbie was ready when she stayed dry for a long time and used the potty when I asked her. Now she doesn’t need help using the potty and does it all by herself. Older kids sometimes take longer. You are older than Debbie, so a day won’t feel as long to you. You might need a longer break before you are ready. It’s also very important for you to cooperate with me. I can’t teach you to use the potty if you don’t listen to me.” I remembered what my mom told me. “My mom said that it might take the whole summer. She said if I can’t help it, I need to learn how to change my own diapers, and she won’t do that until I’m ready.” Aunt Amanda nodded, “That’s true. Some adults, and even big kids, have problems getting to the potty, and they have to manage it by themselves. It is called, ‘incontinence’, but that doesn’t mean they are like little kids.” “It doesn’t?” I sounded very childlike, and innocent. “No honey; They can take care of themselves. It’s hard, and they need to be very responsible. I think that’s what your mommy meant when she told you that you weren’t ready for that.” She continued, “And to be honest, I think your mommy is right. You aren’t responsible enough. I know that you sometimes use the potty by yourself, so I know you can do it. However, big kids don’t just do that some of the time, they handle the potty by themselves all of the time. That’s what you still need to show me.” I didn’t get the answer I wanted, but I did get some perspective on my aunt’s thought process. It felt like she was seriously considering putting me in a diaper right there, and there was a part of me that wished she had. However, it was a big step. I still had to wear a diaper for six more nights, which would be almost three weeks in diapers. If she makes me wear one during the day, I might be in diapers all summer. I made it through the rest of the day without an accident, but the ever-perceptive Debbie noticed the frowny face on my chart. “Why does Tommy have a frowny face?” Aunt Amanda sighed, “Tommy went pee-pee in his pants today.” “Is he going to be a baby again?” My aunt gave Debbie a disapproving look. That was close to teasing, and teasing is not allowed. “Debbie! We don’t do that in this house.” Debbie deflected her eyes and mouthed, “Sorry.” I guess she was talking to me, but it didn’t seem directed at anybody in particular. My aunt replied, “No, Tommy still wants to be a big boy.” It was getting easier for me to pee in the diaper at night. I barely had to think about it before I started to pee. I was oddly proud of myself, but I couldn’t explain why. During the day, I was constantly flooded with doubt and anxiety. I felt out of place in the world. At night, I felt like a three-year-old with no responsibilities. I just needed one more accident, and I could get that feeling during the day as well. It dawned on me that I had to act now. In a few days, my aunt might give Scott another chance with Pull-ups. What if I’m wearing a diaper, and Scott gets to wear Pull-ups? I promised myself to pee in my Pull-up in the morning. Aunt Amanda barely acknowledged the soggy diaper that greeted her in the morning. She just said, “Let’s get you two some breakfast, and then I will get you ready for the day.” She cleaned me up carefully, handed me the Pull-Up, and said, “Try to use the potty today. I don’t want you to have any more accidents.” I replied, “Ok, I’ll try,” knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen. My aunt hugged me, “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” I couldn’t help but notice the twinge of doubt in her voice. At this point, I wasn’t turning back. I was going to wet my Pull-up, and it was just a question of when. There was a part of me that wanted to get it over with, but it was like jumping off the diving board; I couldn’t take it back after it happened. I tried to pee in the morning, but I couldn’t. Jessica came over shortly after 10 o’clock, and the four of us went outside to play. I didn’t want to do it in front of Jessica, so I tried to put it out of my mind. Up until then, I thought I kept this a secret. As far as I knew, she didn’t know I was wearing a Pull-up. I suddenly felt the urge and began to pee, without thinking. I realized what I was doing and tried to stop, but I couldn’t stop peeing. I froze and hoped nobody saw what happened. Jessica noticed and asked, “Tommy, what did you do?” I answered, “Nothing. I was just thinking.” Jessica smirked, “I don’t think that’s it. I know that look. I think somebody peed his pants. Come over here, I need to check your Pull-Up.” “Um, I’m not wearing a Pull-Up.” My stammer and red face might have given it away. “Oh, please! Do you honestly think I haven’t noticed the Pull-ups? I can see the tabs above your waistband. Now come over here and let me check if you’ve had an accident.” “No.” Jessica was talking to me just like I was a petulant child and ordered, “No? Come here, I need to check your Pull-up.” She might have only been thirteen, but she knew exactly how to handle an ornery child. I screamed, “No!” And started to run. I didn’t get very far; Jessica caught me from behind and said, “Got you, you little stinker.” She put her hand on my shorts and said, “Tommy, you’re wet. Let’s tell your aunt.” I pulled away and cried, “No, I don’t want to.” She tugged back and said, “Tommy, you’re only making this bad for yourself. Be a good boy, or I’ll put you in time-out.” I shouted back, “You’re not my babysitter! You can’t put me in time-out.” Jessica snidely asked, “Should we ask your aunt about that?” Aunt Amanda walked outside; “What’s all of the commotion? What’s going on?” Debbie was eager to tell her mom what happened, but Jessica spoke first. “Mrs. Whitmore, I’m afraid Tommy had a little accident and needs another Pull-up. I can help him if you are busy.” It sounds stupid, but until then, it never dawned on me that Jessica could end up changing my diaper. She took care of Scott quite a bit, so it would make sense that she would do the same with me. Much to my relief, Aunt Amanda waved her off. “That’s very nice of you, but I can take it from here. Please keep an eye on Scotty and Debbie, while I’ll take care of Tommy.” Part 10 The best way to describe my aunt’s reaction was disappointment. I don’t know if she thought I did it on purpose, but I don’t think it surprised her. It didn’t matter; she had no choice but to go through with her promise. She said, “Tommy, I don’t know what’s going on, but you aren’t using the potty like you should. We have to take a break from potty training. That means you have to wear diapers until you are ready to try again.” I willingly climbed on the changing table and let her take care of the soggy Pull-up. She calmly asked, “Sweetie, do you want your pacifier?” I nodded, and she put it in my mouth. “There you go. Isn’t that nice?” It’s hard to explain the calming effect sucking on a pacifier has on me. I felt like I melted into the table. I thought my aunt would mock me for acting like a baby, but she didn’t. In her mind, I literally was a baby. She placed the diaper underneath my bottom, and said, “Now sweetie, I don’t want you to worry about making it to the potty. If you need to do a poo-poo or a pee-pee, just go ahead and an adult will take care of your diaper. I don’t want you to try to be a big kid and use the potty. We won’t worry about the potty until you are ready.” I guess this was her way of telling me the bathroom was off-limits. Scott wasn’t allowed to use the potty, so I knew I wouldn’t be either. I felt guilty and mumbled, “I’m sorry.” In her calm voice, she said, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re not ready to be a big kid, so you need a break.” My aunt used cloth diapers at night, which seemed to fit me easily. During the day, she used the largest-sized Pampers available, but they were meant for a kid half my size. I wasn’t sure if they would fit. After she finished, I commented, “I didn’t think they would fit me.” Aunt Amanda smiled, “They fit, but just barely. I think I’ll have to get some bigger diapers, just in case.” She then dressed me like I was a two-year-old. She didn’t let me do anything for myself. My shirt was pastel yellow with a big red balloon on the front. The shorts were bright red and had an elastic waistband. It was the kind of thing I wore when I was three. After she finished, she said, “Big kids don’t wear diapers, so you can’t have big kid privileges until you are potty trained. Is that understood?” I nodded. She continued. “Little kids are not allowed to open doors, and not allowed to run off. They have to be with an adult at all times. You also have to ask an adult first, and if the adult says no, that means no. If you pout, or whine, you will go to time out.” I asked, “What about Jessica, is she an adult?” Aunt Amanda replied, “She is to you. She is in charge, and you have to do what she says.” “Is Debbie an adult?” “No, she is a big sister. You can ask her for help, but she is not in charge.” Aunt Amanda held my hand as we walked outside. She got Jessica’s attention and said, “Jessica, honey, can you keep an eye on Tommy?” Jessica gave her a thumbs up, and then my aunt put her hands on my shoulders and said, in a loud voice, “Be a good boy for Jessica.” I looked ridiculous in my toddler-style outfit and well-padded rear. I think it was obvious that I was wearing a diaper. I asked Jessica in a trembling voice, “Are you going to tease me?” Jessica condescendingly asked, “Why would I do that?” “Well, you know, what I’m wearing.” My voice was timid and shy. “What are you wearing?” She knew everything, and just wanted me to say it out loud. “You know.” I paused a bit, and then continued, “Don’t make me say it.” “No, I don’t, Tommy. What are you wearing?” Exasperated, I admitted, “I’m wearing a diaper. My Aunt is making me wear diapers.” She mockingly looked surprised, “You are, and why are you wearing diapers, Tommy? What did you do?” I was annoyed and mumbled as quickly as possible, “I wet my pants.” “You did, didn’t you. I guess that means you aren’t potty trained.” I wanted to run off but knew that wasn’t possible. I nodded, and Jessica continued, “I guess that makes you a little kid, doesn’t it?” I didn’t nod back, but she didn’t care. “I don’t tease little kids; that’s just mean. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tease you. Just remember that I’m in charge, and you can’t argue with me. If you do what I tell you, I’ll be nice.” I guess that’s the best I could hope for. Debbie kept asking, “What happened? Why is Tommy wearing diapers?” I wanted to scream at Debbie, but I knew I would get in trouble, so I gave Jessica a pleading look. Fortunately, Jessica quickly admonished Debbie. “Debbie! Don’t be so nosy. That’s none of your business.” Unfortunately, I hadn’t pooped yet, and breakfast was making it’s way to my bowels. I had let my mind go free while Scott and I were playing in the sandbox and forgot about the new rules. I got up to head for the bathroom. Jessica quickly asked, “Tommy, where do you think you’re going? You can’t run off by yourself.” I replied in a firm voice, “I need to go to the bathroom.” Jessica gave me a serious look, “Tommy, you don’t have to worry about that. That’s why you’re wearing a diaper.” I didn’t want to poop in my diaper and didn’t think Jessica would want to deal with that either. I snapped, “It’s not that. I need to take a shit.” I didn’t think swearing was a big deal, especially in front of kids my age. I didn’t usually swear around little kids, but I didn’t think I said anything wrong. Jessica gave me a dirty look and said, “Tommy Michael, you know better than that. Little boys don’t speak that way.” She pointed to the picnic table and in a firm voice said, “Go to the table. Now!” I have no idea how she knew my middle name, but hearing it is never good. I was more shocked than anything else, and asked, “What? Why?” “You heard me. Go!” She marched me to the table, put a pacifier in my mouth, and said, “Sit! You are in time-out.” I tried to plead my case. I spit the pacifier out, and tried to say, “But I need to go to the bathroom.” However, I didn’t get past the first word before she put the pacifier back in my mouth. “Don’t talk until I take that out! Is that understood?” I was too afraid to respond. She continued, “I know what’s going on, and as long as you are good, and don’t argue with me, I’ll be nice. But, if you don’t obey me, and make this difficult, I’ll make sure everybody knows what a big baby you really are. Do you want that?” I vigorously shook my head and tried to talk, but Jessica wouldn’t let me speak. “No talking! Sit here and think about your words. You are in time-out because you used a naughty word.” Debbie didn’t hear me cuss, and being the curious child she was, asked me, “Tommy, why are you in time-out?” Jessica quickly intercepted, “Debbie, Tommy is in time-out. He can’t talk to you right now.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s ok. Tommy can play after he finishes his time-out.” I hadn’t been put in time-out since I was six years old, and now I was put there by a girl younger than me. It’s a lot to unpack. However, I had to admire Jessica’s poise. It gave me a strange sense of security that is hard to explain. Her maturity belied her age. A short time later she came back and asked, “Are you ready to apologize for saying those naughty words?” She took the pacifier out of my mouth after I nodded back. I started, “I’m sorry, but.” The pacifier immediately went back to my mouth. “No buts. Are you going to say naughty words anymore?” I shook my head, and she nodded back. “Good, you can go back to playing after you apologize for real.” I replied, “I’m sorry.” “For what? What are you sorry about?” “I’m sorry I cussed.” Jessica smiled, “You’re forgiven. I think you’ve learned your lesson.” I raised my hand and waved, “Can I say something?” “What is it?” “I still need to poo.” Jessica shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you are taking a break from the potty. That means you have to use your diaper.” She pointed to a corner of the yard and said, “If you want, you can do it there.” I answered, “I can’t do that out here.” Jessica put the pacifier back in my mouth and smirked, “Obviously, that’s not always true, is it?” A few minutes later, Jessica took us into the kitchen for lunch and told my aunt, “He says he needs to poo, but he hasn’t done it yet.” It was humiliating to hear people talk about my bowel movements that way. Aunt Amanda nodded, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll give him some time, but I might have to help him if he hasn’t pooped by dinner.” She turned to me and said, ‘Honey, it’s not good to hold it in.” I sat in my highchair at lunch, right next to Scott. We both had bibs around our necks, and our sandwiches were cut into small pieces. We also had sippy cups, while Debbie got to use a real cup. We took our naps after lunch. I still had to poo, and I was mad, so I decided to go in my diaper. I figured it would be a fitting punishment to make my aunt change my stinky diaper. There weren't any clocks in the nursery, so I had no idea how long I would have to wait until my aunt woke us up. I just had to wait, and deal with the smell. She reacted immediately after opening the nursery door. “I think somebody has a stinky diaper!” She checked Scott first. “Was it you?” She felt the front and then checked the back. “No, not you. You aren’t even wet. You were a big boy, and that makes Mommy very proud.” It was my turn. She felt the front and said, “You went pee-pee. Let’s see about the poo-poo.” She opened it up and in an almost proud voice said, “Yep, you did. And you did a big one. I’m happy that you don’t need any help going poo-poo.” I was confused, and asked, “Aren’t you mad?” Aunt Amanda replied, “Why would I be mad? It’s not healthy to hold your poop. I told you to use your diaper, and you did. That means you are a good boy.” Part 11 My aunt didn’t care what anybody thought. She acted like this was completely normal. She put two strollers in the car when we went to Reno the next day. I realized that the other one was for me and cried, “I can’t ride in that!” Aunt Amanda asked, “Why not?” “I’m too old. People will think it’s weird.” Aunt Amanda scoffed, “You’re wearing a diaper and that makes you a little kid. Little kids need to use a stroller.” “Why? I don’t need a stroller. I’m not going to get tired.” My aunt shook her head, “I’m sorry honey. It’s not safe to let you wander off. The stroller keeps you and Scotty close, and you won’t get lost.” I whined, “I won’t get lost. I promise, I won’t wander away. I promise.” Aunt Amanda replied in a firm voice. “Tommy, go suck on your pacifier and stop whining.” I was smart enough to know I wasn’t going to win. I hadn’t won a single battle with my aunt. I didn’t want anybody to see me, especially somebody from my school. She took the strollers out of the car after we parked, and I begged, “Please, Aunt Amanda. You can’t make me do this. It’s humiliating.” My aunt didn’t want a debate. She demanded, “Tommy, get in the stroller, now!” I knew she wasn’t going to back down, however, I still tried to resist. I wasn’t a baby. I didn’t need diapers, and I definitely didn’t need to ride in a stroller. I had to take a stand, and not let her humiliate me in public. I tried to muscle up my strongest voice, but I was starting to cry. Rather than sounding strong, I pleaded between sobs, “Pleese Au-unt Amanda! Pleese! I’m sorry, I’ll never do this again. I’ll do anything, just don’t make me go out like this.” Aunt Amanda was unimpressed with my theatrics. She put the pacifier back in my mouth and said, “Stop with the dramatics. You’re only making it worse for yourself by making a scene. You have two choices: sit in the stroller like a good boy, or we can go home, and you’ll go straight to the playpen.” I didn’t know what she meant by the playpen, but I saw Scott shaking his head and prompting me to stop. It sounded bad, so I reluctantly sat down in the stroller. I think these were bigger than most strollers, but they looked like any other stroller. They were connected side by side, which allowed Scott and I to talk while we were pushed around town. It felt like everybody was watching us, but most people didn’t seem to pay attention. Scott looked too old to be in a stroller, but not that far off. Somebody might think he was just a big four-year-old, and that’s still young enough to use a stroller. I clearly was too old and too big to use a stroller. Nobody would ever think I was young enough to need a stroller. I saw people stare, which made sense. We both looked way too old for a stroller, and I was sucking on a pacifier. It caused a scene, but my aunt didn’t care. One young kid saw us and asked, “Mommy, why are those big kids in strollers?” The mom knew we heard and was embarrassed. She replied, “I don’t know honey, but it’s not polite to stare.” My aunt and uncle wanted a date night that weekend and needed a babysitter. Jessica was the obvious choice, but my aunt wanted to let her parents know about me. Jessica’s mom wasn’t comfortable with the two of us being together without supervision. When Jessica realized what her mom was thinking, she scoffed at the idea. “Mom! Please. Yuck! He’s wearing a diaper. Nothing like that will happen. You don’t have a problem when I change Scott.” “No, but Scott is younger than you.” Jessica remarked, “Mom, Tommy is the same as Scott. He’s just a little boy who still needs diapers. I don’t think of him that way at all.” Jessica’s mom asked my aunt, “Is she telling the truth? Does Tommy wear diapers? Aunt Amanda answered, “He does. Tommy had a setback with his potty training, so I put him back in diapers. Jessica is right, there really is no difference between Tommy and Scott. They are both little boys, and Jessica handles them like a pro. She won’t let him get away with much, and that boy was a nightmare for me until I put him back in diapers.” Jessica pleaded, “Mom, please let me do this. Mrs. Whitmore is going to pay me $20 an hour.” Jessica’s mom turned back to my aunt, “$20 an hour?” My aunt said, “Well, it’s three kids. Jessica may be young, but she is a great babysitter, and the kids adore her.” Jessica noted, “Tommy is just a little kid, or at least he acts like one.” Jessica’s mom nodded and then asked my aunt, “Are you saying Tommy hasn’t given you any problems since you put him back in diapers?” Aunt Amanda nodded, “It’s true. Last week, he was an absolute nightmare. He had an awful attitude and wouldn’t do anything around the house. He sulked and pouted whenever I asked him to do anything. I know he’s not a bad kid and he’s had a rough go at it these last few years. Since Thursday, he’s been a different kid. Sure, there’s been a few tantrums, but they’re short-lived and easily rectified. He calms right down when I give him a pacifier. He is more compliant and hasn’t whined nearly as much. I can’t trust him to do any chores, but that was never worth the hassle. I know it’s odd, but he seems happier.” Jessica’s mom looked intrigued, “You don’t say. I might have to try that with Jason. That boy has been a real pill since school let out.” She looked at Jessica and said, “Don’t say anything to your brother.” Jessica was strict, but nice. I guess that makes her a good babysitter. We had to follow all of the rules. She made me eat all of my vegetables, but then gave us some cake for dessert. My aunt doesn’t usually give us any dessert, so that was a treat. The four of us played a board game after dinner, but Jessica made sure we were in bed by eight o’clock. Scott and I both had baths before she got there. However, she had to change my diaper before bedtime. She didn’t make a big deal about it and acted like it was normal. Fortunately, I didn’t give Jessica any problems. I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to put me in time-out, and my aunt warned me before she left. “If you give Jessica any issues, I’m putting you in the playpen tomorrow.” I asked Scott, “What does she mean by the playpen?” Scott answered, “You don’t want that. If I’m naughty, Mommy makes me sit in a playpen all day, and I’m not allowed to have any toys. It’s like time-out, except it’s the whole day.” That warning kept me in check. After a few days, I realized my life is easier if I don’t complain and just go along with my aunt. Within a week, I understood the routine and knew what was expected of me, which was basically nothing. I had no responsibilities and no real decisions to make. I was praised for following her rules and doing what she wanted. I was also praised when I used my diaper and always got a hug after my diaper was changed. I didn’t get very much positive attention in those days, so I responded well to praise. On the other hand, attempts at independence were quickly quashed, usually with a mild reprimand. Scott got to use the potty after the weekend; I guess that meant he was ready to be potty-trained. I knew my turn was coming, which I thought would happen in just a few days. By Wednesday, Scott was in Pull-ups, which made me the only baby in the house. I still had diapers, had the same rules, and had to wait patiently for my turn. Scott got to wear underwear the following Monday and was dry in the morning. He got to eat breakfast from the table, and I still had to sit in my highchair. I knew Scott would be completely out of diapers soon, and I still wasn’t allowed to use the potty. I asked, “When can I use the potty again? It’s been more than a week.” I didn’t want to get in trouble, but I didn’t want this to last forever. My aunt nonchalantly answered, “Don’t worry. We will try again when you are ready.” I protested, “But Scott only had to wait a week. Why do I have to wait so long?” I tried not to whine, but I’m sure I was. To her credit, Aunt Amanda didn’t get mad. I had an honest concern, and my protest made sense. She calmly replied, “That’s because Scott is younger than you. A week to you isn’t very long, but at Scotty’s age, it feels much longer. When you are older, you need longer breaks. That means when we start again, we get a fresh start. If you keep being good, I think you will be ready soon.” Four days later, which was after fourteen days in diapers, I got to poop in the potty. I was praised and even allowed to wipe after. However, my aunt had to finish. I wasn’t clean enough, so she had to finish before putting me in a new diaper. She warned, “You have to do a better job wiping. If you can’t wipe properly, you will have to stay in diapers.” After she changed my diaper, she said, “It’s time to see if you are ready for Pull-ups. Tell me when you need to use the potty, and I’ll take you.” Unfortunately, I was used to peeing in my diaper. After a couple of wet diapers, my aunt said, “I guess you’re not ready. Let’s wait. We will try again in a few weeks.” Epilogue That happened three years ago. I’m now going into my senior year in high school and thinking about college. I don’t know what college I want to go to, but I have the grades to go to UC Berkeley or any other top school. I want to study computer science, and my grades are good enough. My grades weren’t very good in middle school. I got C’s and D’s, and I was hanging out with a bad crowd. I don’t think I was a bad kid, but I was immature and trying to impress kids I thought were cool. I guess being put in diapers changed my attitude. I stopped trying to pretend that I was something I wasn’t. I ended up spending the entire summer in diapers. I got to wear Pull-ups a few times, but always went back to diapers. By the end of July, Scott was out of diapers at night, which left me alone in the nursery. My mom’s tour was extended, and I had to stay with my aunt through Christmas. I had more accidents, so I was diapered most of that time. It was a virtual high school, and my aunt kept a tight rein on me. I ended up with straight A’s that semester. I moved back with my mom after Christmas. I didn’t start at my high school until January. By then my old friends had different friends and they ignored me. This is where things get strange. My mom gave me the same freedoms and responsibilities that other kids had, and I didn’t handle it well. I started to argue with my mom, and my grades suffered. I did better when my mom put me back in diapers. She eventually discovered diapers were the key. As long as I have to wear a diaper, she can give me the same freedoms and responsibilities that other kids have. I’m now in diapers all the time, and I’m not allowed to change my diaper. I’m not even allowed to ask; I have to wait until somebody checks my diaper. My mom is responsible for my diapers, and if she can’t be there, somebody else is. It’s been this way since 10th grade. I’m not treated like a baby all of the time, but my mom will give me extra attention when she thinks I need it. We aren’t sure how to handle college yet, but that’s not my problem. I have no say in the matter. My cousins are doing fine. Scott still has accidents and needs diapers sometimes, but not all the time. Debbie hasn’t needed diapers for a long time. I stay with my aunt during the summer, and I still have to follow the same rules when I’m there. Jessica is still our babysitter, but she also takes care of her older brother Jason, who is now in diapers and treated like a toddler.
  8. Hello dear readers! It’s been a while since we checked in on Mike, Katie, Sandra (and now someone new)! This is the latest installment in this series. As always, comments and critiques are welcome. All plot characters are 18+ At Miss Katie’s House Katie sat on the couch, idly flicking through a parenting magazine she had “borrowed” from her obstetrician’s office. Who even subscribes to paper magazines anymore? Well, apart from Doctors, obviously. She glanced up to look at Mike and her almost 3-year-old niece, Jessie, playing in the corner. The contents of the small tub of toys she kept for babysitting were strewn across the living room. Mike and Jessie were playing adjacent to one another, but not together, per-se. Each was fully engrossed in their own little game, oblivious to everything and everyone else. Katie knew this was normal at Jessie’s age, and probably at Mike’s current developmental stage as well. She hadn’t seen as much of Mike lately, not since her decision to move him from her preschool classroom into the “2s and 3s” room (AKA the pre-potty-training room for kids not quite out of diapers or otherwise unready for preschool). She had loved having Mike as her Little Helper, but it was just getting too difficult as his regression took a deeper hold. Of course she’d played her own small part in accelerating that on at least one occasion (it had to be done), but it was his wife, Sandra, who was really in the driver’s seat there. She still wasn’t sure how far Sandra was going to take things with Mike’s treatments. She knew Sandra was still taking him for regular visits to the Regression Center, but surely she’d have to stop soon? No one wanted a giant infant did they? Who knows. Sandra clearly wasn’t done yet. Mike had slipped even more since she’d last seen him about a week ago. Developmentally, she’d put him somewhere between 2-3 and definitely closer to 2 now. Arguably less mature than Jessie in many important ways. The pastel liner peaking up above his waistband and the bulk around his bottom were confirmation of that. Mike had joined her in late summer as a very capable pre-school-level little. In fact, at that time he was the most advanced Little Helper she’d ever had in her classroom. He probably could have gone to another classroom, but Sandra had insisted that he be placed with her, and she could hardly deny that request given their history. Plus, she still liked Mike. True, she had liked him in very different and more adult ways before his regression, but a good portion of that affection had carried over to him in this present state. He was just adorable and cute now rather than sexy. As summer turned into fall though, Mike had begun to fall further behind the actual children in the class. At first it was in more subtle ways, like getting frustrated when he couldn’t keep up with the rules of new games or forgetting to wash his hands after using the toilet. That was ok. She could help with that stuff. It was part of the job. But the decline continued, and by early October he was very clearly struggling with even the most basic tasks for a Little Helper. His occasional dribbles and wettings had become an almost daily occurrence, meaning she was spending more and more of her time tending to his accidents, and less time doing her actual job. She’d tasked one of the junior teachers with keeping an eye on him and reminding him to use the toilet, but she was still the only Preschool teacher certified to clean up and change potty accidents from the Little Helpers, which meant long periods of time away from the classroom in the staff bathroom wiping down Mike’s pee-soaked crotch and legs and helping him into fresh undies. The first time he soiled his pants in her classroom, he had been quite upset, and she’d had to take him to the quiet/nap room to calm him down before cleaning him up. She’d pulled him into her lap like a toddler (ignoring the smell from his bottom) and rocked and shushed him gently in the dark until he calmed down. Unfortunately, it seemed she had done too good of a job of calming and reassuring Mike after that particular accident. He had absolutely drenched his lightly-padded training pants while sitting in her lap, and some of it soaked through to her pants. Lesson relearned: tinkle usually follows soon after poop. That was also the first time she had noticed him sucking his thumb. Normally she would discourage that behavior in her preschoolers, but with MIke’s current trajectory, what was the point? After that day, she had insisted that Sandra start sending Mike to daycare with several clean pairs of the thickly padded “training pants” she knew she was putting him in at home (and which Mike usually arrived wearing in the mornings). In truth, they were pull-on cloth diapers, and so they did a pretty good job of containing both kinds of messes, but cleanup was still a bitch because they had to be pulled down his legs. It wasn’t the accidents that had led to Mike’s eventual demotion, though. It was his nonchalance about them. The Regression Center specialized in total regression therapy, which included modules aimed at re-socializing clients into more developmentally appropriate attitudes and emotions. Sometime after Halloween, Mike reached a stage where he was no longer overly embarrassed or concerned about his increasingly babyish behavior, including going potty in his pants in front of others. And that was simply bad for business in a preschool classroom where the most important skill to be learned and reinforced was the need to keep oneself dry and clean. Bottom line - Little Helpers were special - but they were still expected to set a good example for the others. And Mike was no longer capable of doing so in her classroom. The final straw fell one afternoon when she had to pause story time because her nose had detected a familiar foul odor. Her eyes went immediately to Mike who was kneeling (not sitting) rather conspicuously in the circle of children on the reading rug around her. Normally, she tried to be discreet about checking for and dealing with his accidents, but this time she had just asked him in front of everybody if he needed to be changed. Mike might’ve spared himself the demotion if he had told her the truth. But instead, he lied, and insisted quite adamantly that he didn’t. He even tried to blame the odor on the girl next to him. Katie had sat there for a moment, looking at Mike and waiting for him to confess, while he just stared back defiantly. The whole classroom was watching this interaction, and she knew she couldn’t just let this slide. Silently, she stood up, marched over to him, and pulled back the back of his pants to check him. She didn’t need to announce what she had found in there. The whole room already knew. She held a tight grip on Mike’s hand as she wordlessly handed the book off to her junior teacher and walked Mike out of the room and into the hall, picking up his backpack on the way. Once there, she turned to him and put on her best firm, teacher voice: “Mike you lied to me again about going poopy in your pants. Remember what I told you about setting a good example for the others?” Mike slipped a finger in his mouth as if in thought and then nodded slowly in the affirmative. “Uh huh. Well, unfortunately you haven’t been doing that lately. I know it’s not your fault, sweetie, but I think we need to put you in a different classroom, at least for a little while.” Mike felt vaguely unsettled by this plan, but he couldn’t quite place why. Everything had become so jumbled and fuzzy lately. And he was zoning out more and more often. Sometimes he lost whole afternoons or days. Oddly though, he didn’t feel that concerned about these lapses. In fact, in this moment he was feeling quite docile and very happy for Katie to lead the way to something new. He had even forgotten about the mess in the back of his pants. Now they were walking again, hand in hand. Mike had assumed that they were going to the toddler room to change first, because that’s where Miss Katie usually took him after a messy accident. But today they kept walking past the toddler classroom and stopped in front of an unfamiliar, brightly decorated door. Katie knocked twice and then opened the door, pulling him inside with her. It was laid out almost exactly like the preschool classroom, but it was very quiet for some reason. There appeared to be no kids in here. Mike was suddenly overcome with a wave of shyness, and did his best to hide behind Katie, who squeezed his hand reassuringly. Across the room at a single large changing table, next to what looked like a bathroom, a woman was finishing changing a boy of around 2. She stood him up on the changing table, pulling his pants back up around his fresh diaper, then lifted him onto her hip and turned to greet them, still holding the soiled diaper. She was a lot younger than Katie, but still very much a grownup compared to Mike. As an adult, Mike probably would have considered her more ‘cute’ than pretty with her button nose and minimally applied makeup. Her sandy blonde hair was tied back loosely in a functional ponytail. She smiled warmly at both of them, put her finger to her lips to indicate that they should be quiet (it was nap time), and then walked over to them both still carrying the tot. “You must be Mike” she said, now looking directly into his eyes and holding that same friendly smile. “I’m Miss Rachel”. Mike nodded shyly and fidgeted. He was suddenly very aware again of the contents of his pants. “I’ll be back in a minute so that we can introduce ourselves properly, but right now I need to get this one settled for nap time. Would you mind disposing of this for me?”, she asked, handing the used diaper to Katie. Katie nodded and pulled Mike along with her across the unfamiliar room and into the bathroom. There was a diaper pail in here next to the trash can along with a couple training potties and a small toilet with no stall. Katie disposed of the diaper in the bin and then turned to Mike. “Phew - I don’t know if it was that boy’s diaper or yours that’s stinking up this place, but why don’t we go ahead and get you changed too before Miss Rachel comes back?” This wasn’t a really a question, even though it was posed that way. Katie knelt down almost immediately and helped Mike remove his shoes and socks and step out of his pants. She found they were a little bit damp in the crotch, but she knew Sandra always sent him in with a spare pair. Katie stood up and removed the clean pants from Mike’s backpack. Then she turned away from him and opened a large cabinet above the sink, removing a tub of wipes, a wet clothes baggie, and a pair of vinyl gloves. She held something else behind her back while she turned and set the rest of the supplies on the small bench next to where Mike now stood. The tile floor was cold on his bare feet and it was very bright in here under the fluorescents. Mike put his thumb in his mouth, shivered a little, and looked to the doorway to find Miss Rachel filling it. Her eyes lingered on his dampened crotch for a moment and then flitted to the items on the bench. She had already noted the telltale bulge in the back of his soggy panties before he turned around. “Braiden went down quicker than normal, so that’s a small victory I guess”, she said. Katie laughed and continued to pull on her vinyl gloves. “You can change Mike out here on the changing table if that would make things easier?”, Rachel asked. “I can put his changing supplies in his cubby while you do that…unless you just want me to go ahead and change him?” “No, it’s fine”, Katie said, kneeling again in front of Mike. “I’m already invested in this process here”, (she held up her gloved hands for emphasis), “and besides, Mike is used to me taking care of him when he’s a Mr Stinky Pants, aren’t you, Mike?” Mike smiled and nodded sheepishly. He glanced at Rachel who smiled back, which put him more at ease. He sighed deeply, inhaling the aroma from his backside mixing with the one from the diaper pail. This wasn’t so bad. Miss Rachel didn’t seem to mind that he had gone potty in his big boy pants, nor did she act surprised by it. He’d also overheard her talking to the little boy in the same sweet and playful tones that Katie and Sandra often used when they were changing him. Thinking about that now prompted a familiar dopamine-induced rush of warmth and contentment that spread from his head to his toes. He decided in that moment that he liked Miss Rachel. He imagined her humming gently and laying him down in the nap room with a stuffy and a full sippy of warm milk. It seemed so real - almost like a memory instead of his imagination. He sighed again, and let the imagery and sensations wash over him fully. For some reason Miss Rachel seemed very big now, and he was very small. In fact, he now fit on the toddler nap mat with room to spare. The room was dark and there was a soft lullaby playing from somewhere. She was sitting next to him and gently stroking his hair. He was aware of the bulk of his naptime diaper around his waist and between his legs, but that was OK. It was just for when he was asleep, or on long car rides, or at the zoo. Besides, lots of the kids in this class wore diapers ALL the time - even when they were awake. He contemplated the thought of wearing daytime diapers. He knew he used to feel adamantly opposed to them for some reason, but he couldn’t remember exactly why. A wet diaper was much more comfortable than wet training pants, and lately he felt very safe and secure whenever Sandra put him in one. It just felt right. Of course he knew that he was still too old to wear diapers all the time. Only babies did that. And he was still a big boy wasn’t he? He thought about this for a moment and decided that, yes, he was still a big boy as long as he got to wear big boy pants at least some of the time. And he could. He could even start going tinkle and poopy on the potty again if he wanted to. Come to think of it - when was the last time he had used the grown up potty? He found he couldn’t remember that either. All he could picture was Sandra holding his legs in the air and wiping his bottom as she praised him for not making a fuss about using the potty. Oh well, it didn’t really matter right now did it? Because he was feeling soooo warm and sleepy and content. The funny, nagging pressure from below his waist felt very far away and unimportant right now. He decided he would let Miss Rachel put a daytime diaper on him the next time she offered. Or maybe he’d ask for one after his nap, just to test out those waters so-to-speak. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? He began to imagine her diapering him as he felt his bladder let go, the tickling warmth running down his taint and pooling around his bottom before being absorbed. This was heaven! A shout of surprise from Katie brought him back. He looked down to find his soiled pants gone and his bottom now clean. In fact, everything was great in the back. It was what was happening in front that was the problem: A golden arc of tinkle was currently streaming from his naked pee-pee and splashing onto the tile floor. Oops! Mike watched in fascination, completely mesmerized and unable to recall how to stem the flow. It felt like this was the dream and the memories of being tucked in and soothed by Rachel were reality. He was all out of sorts. Thankfully, Rachel sprang into action - grabbing the open diaper that had appeared next to him on the bench, and cupping it deftly over his crotch while pulling the back up between his slightly spread legs. “Oopsie - looks like someone had an unexpected visit from the tinkle monster!”, Rachel said in a singsong voice as she held the diaper on him with one hand still covering his crotch and the other gently cupping his padded bottom. Mike just smiled and nodded as he stood there and finished. The tinkle monster was indeed a very frequent visitor these days. The reassuring, gentle pressure from Rachel’s hands through the diaper felt nice against his skin. He shivered a little, but this time not from cold. When Rachel was sure he was done she pulled the diaper away, used the back to roughly mop up the puddle on the floor in front of Mike, and then threw it in the diaper pail. By now, Katie had recovered from the shock of almost getting peed on. She stood and retrieved a fresh diaper from the cabinet, this time making no effort to hide it or her intentions. She had been prepared to claim that the diaper was only because he might take a nap soon, but surprisingly Mike didn’t offer any objections. She glanced outside the bathroom to make sure the coast was clear of any other children before leading him by the hand to the changing table where she creamed and diapered him without a fuss. Then she pulled his pants up, helped him off the table, and sat him down on the floor with a gentle pat to his diapered bottom. “Rachel - I know you guys are already intimately acquainted by now, but I’d like you to formally meet Mike, my ‘favoritist’ Little Helper and former neighbor.” Rachel arched her eyebrows for a moment at this news. She hadn’t known that Mike and Katie had known eachother before his…change. Clearly there was more to this story, but that could wait for the staff room or after work drinks. She bent down and smiled at Mike while offering her hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you properly, Mr Mike! I think you’re gonna get along great in my classroom, don’t you?” Mike nodded. “Yep - you’re gonna fit right in here. But don’t think for one second I’m gonna let you just play baby all day. I’ve still got some very important jobs for you to do like helping me put away toys and bringing me things like diapers, pullups, and wipes when I need them, OK? Can you do that for me?” Mike beamed and nodded again proudly. He understood his role as a Little Helper, even if it was in a different class. Katie had left him with Rachel soon after that, feeling a little melancholy about losing her daily time with Mike. But she knew it really was the best thing for everybody. And besides, Sandra had been asking her to babysit more and more frequently in the evenings and on weekends so that she could go out on dates with her many different boyfriends. Katie was pretty sure the current beau’s name was Mitch, but she could never keep up with the revolving cast of dudes. How did Sandra do it? Her husband was out of town for the week and she had agreed to have Mike and her niece for the afternoon while her sister shopped. Watching 2 toddlers wasn’t much different than one, and she needed more practice in the home anyway. Her own baby was due in less than 8 weeks now! Time flies! Speaking of which, she glanced at the clock and realized Jessie was way past due for her nap. “A mother’s work is never done” she thought as she scooped a protesting Jessie into her arms and carried her towards the spare bedroom, leaving Mike to play on his own for a moment. She knew he probably needed changing by this point, but that could wait.
  9. Kate had left her laptop at the office, and her phone was acting up. She always hated going into her step-sons messy room, but she really needed to send this email. She navigated the piles of dirty clothes, and tried not to breathe through her mouth. "How can somebody live like this?" She thought. "We are going to have a serious talk about this." She grimaced, as she cleared the immediate desk space of empty soda cans, and various wrappers. She was happy his computer was so nice, and booted up quickly. A Google doc was onscreen when the moniter blinked to life. She tried to minimize it, she wasn't there to snoop. Her perifial vision caught the big bold letters before she managed though, and her brain couldn't help but spell them out for her. "Oh my!" She squeaked. Cheeks turning red. Diapered by my Step Mom Chapter One She knew she should just close the window, but her curiosity got the best of her… My Step Mom Kate, is so gorgeous. She's a big curvy woman, but not fat - by anyone's standards. She still has a tight waist, for all those curves she has. I'm pretty sure Pixar owes her some heafty royalties, for borrowing her likeness. Her bras are all DD, but they barely contain her perfect breasts. And she should have a CDL for that dump truck she drove around all day. She always bosses me around, and treats me like a kid still. Even though I'm 24. "It's a bit mosaganisic, but I guess it's kind of flattering." She laughed. It was no secret Chris thought she was hot. She would catch him staring at her all the time. "And maybe I wouldn't treat you like a kid, if you didn't act like one." She thought, before reading it on screen. She always tells me that if I would start acting my age, then she'd treat me like an adult. Little did she know that I didn't want her to treat me like an adult at all. "I wonder how she will treat me after this?" I thought. As I relaxed my muscles and wet my bed. I fell asleep in my wet sheets. Knowing that Kate would come wake me up, and find me. Kate was flabbergasted. It was like a trainwreck, she couldn't look away. She scrolled down a bit further to see how much of this story was written. Then one afternoon, after experiencing a few more embarrassing mornings like the first, Kate sat me down for a talk. I acted like I didn't want to wear them, but my heart jumped for joy when she pulled out the package of diapers. They weren't the pull-up kind either. I would have to be taped into them. Like a little baby. "I don't even know how to use those. I've never changed a diaper." I argued - fishing for her to offer her assistance. A performance worthy of an Oscar. It was like music to my ears when she started talking. "Well… that's no excuse. I've changed lots of them in my day. Come on, lay down." Kate's phone went off, startling her back to reality. It was her secretary asking for the email, again. "Oh shoot!" She was so entertained with the story, that she completely forgot what she was in there for. She quickly sent the email, and noticed the time. There was no way she would be able to finish the whole story before Chris came home. She sent a second email, to herself this time, and put the computer back to sleep. In the kitchen, Kate found herself quite flushed, thinking about what she had just read. "I'm not… I wouldn't actually…" she poured a glass of wine, and started sifting through all the thoughts racing around her head. It wasn't long before Chris was pulling up the drive. Her phone chirped, as he walked in the door. It was the email she had sent herself. "About time!" She said. "I just got off practice, and there was traffic." Chris said, somewhat puzzled. It was only a few minutes later than he normally arrived. "Oh… not you. My phone was acting up all day, I just started getting my emails on it again." Kate said. "I'm going to go upstairs, and read for a little bit. Don't run off though. I want to have a talk with you in a little bit. There's pizza in the fridge." Chris rolled his eyes. "I was going to meet Shayna at the cafe though." He groaned. "Well how about you clean your room up a bit first? I'll be down to have that talk in a little bit." Kate didn't know what she was going to say to him yet. She wanted to read more, before she made any decisions. "Are you serious! I'll do it later!" Chris groaned again, throwing his backpack to the floor. Kate would normally get annoyed with such a reaction. But all she could see was a toddler throwing a tantrum now. "If you don't clean it, then I will." Kate said. "Great, thank!" Chris yellped. "I'll see you later!" He then thought about the diapers he had hidden in the closest. And the several wet ones stashed under his bed that he hadn't found time to properly dispose of. "Actually. I'll start now, she isn't going to be at the cafe for another hour." In her room, Kate lay on her bed. Reading more. With every word she fell more in love with the idea. The further she read, the further she realized it was litterally a playbook to make her step son behave. Her friends were all over for their weekly wine night. They get together every Friday. I always sneek some, when they aren't looking. It was probably the wine, but who's to say. I made sure to do it when they all could see me. "Oh Chris!" Kate's friend Tiffany shouted. "Kate! Chris is…" she just pointed at me. As a dark stain grew down my jeans. Kate took me by the arm and drug me to my room. She was so mad at me. "This is so embarrassing. In front of my friends? Do you seriously need diapers all the time?" She yelled at me, as she pushed me on my bed, and pulled off my wet clothes. "I wonder what your friends will think of your diapers?" She asked as she tapped one around me. "My friends?!?" I quailed. Not thinking my little scheme would ever bleed into my social life. As much as I wanted her to diaper me. I didn't want my friends to know. Most of all my girlfriend Shayna. "You seriously think you're going to wear anything else after that? So embarrassing." "No!" I cried. It was just an accident. I don't actually need to wear them all the time. It was just an accident." I realized then, that I may have flew to close to the sun. "Well let's just see if you can be a big boy for the weekend. And we will talk about what you'll wear to school on Monday." Kate was enamoured with the idea of having her step son under her thumb. Chris apparently had mixed feelings. I hated that I had to do everything she said now. I had really enjoyed just acting like an immature little brat. But, it's not like I never had a fantasy where Kate was a stern mommy... That weekend was all… 'yes Mam, I'll do the dishes' and 'yes Mam, I'll clean my room.' as annoying as it was, I could still relish in my victory. I just hope I get out of them in time. Kate had already resigned to putting him back in diapers. She honestly couldn't shake the thoughts, since they started pouring in this afternoon. But now… she started to form a plan that would work in her favor. She met Chris downstairs, just as he was hauling a big trash bag out of his room. If she knew it was full of dirty diapers, she would have just started then. "Oh wow! I didn't really expect you to actually clean your room up." "Mostly. I'll finish when I get back. Unless you still wanted to clean the rest?" Chris smiled. Pretending it was a joke. Knowing full well he would love to not have to clean up after himself ever again. "We'll see how I feel when I get back from the store. But if you need your mommy to clean your room for you, I don't know how you expect me to let you keep going on dates." Kate jested. "Okay…" Chris stammered, his cheeks flushed red. Kate could tell he liked that she talked to him like that. "Okay. Well… like I said, I'll clean it when I get back." "Ten o'clock!" Kate yelled, as he raced out the door. As much as Kate wanted to throw a diaper on him the second he got home, she didn't want him to think this was her idea. Even if the thought of him as an obedient little diaper boy got her excited, it was part of her plan to wait… The next few nights, Kate made sure Chris didn't wake up dry. Sneaking melatonin into his dinners, and skulking into his room with a warm bowl of water in the middle of the night. She half expected him to jump right into it, but he seemed genuinely embarrassed every morning. "Uh oh! It looks like we had another accident!" Chris woke up to his step mom in his room again. "I… I'm sorry Kate!" Chris whined. His embarrassment was indeed real, wether he pleasured himself to the awful show every night or not. "Well… I know you are sorry. But I really think it's time we talk about some protection. I don't want to be cleaning this mess up every morning." Kate kept stern eye contact as she suggested diapering her step son. "Like… diapers?" Chris choked. He couldn't believe he was really having this conversation. It was his fantasy, but he was too embarrassed to enjoy it. "It's okay. You just haven't woke up dry at all this week. I already bought some." Kate smiled. "You don't have to wear them untill tonight."
  10. Prologue What would happen if a fourteen-year-old boy just stopped using the potty, and peed his pants all the time? This is the story of a teenage kid who wants to wear diapers again and decides to keep wetting his pants until his mom puts him back in diapers. How long will it take? How long will it last? Is this a dream come true, or will it be a night that he regrets? Side note- this story includes a wet dream, but I don’t get detailed about the dream, and he doesn’t understand what it is. Therefore, I don’t believe it is sexual in any way. If a moderator believes this to be in violation, please IM me, and I will remove the story. The boy who wanted diapers I like diapers and I have always liked them. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. I don’t remember the specifics of my early potty-training years, but I know that I wasn’t fully potty-trained until I was nearly five. I remember wearing diapers on my fourth birthday, and at some point, I stopped wearing them during the day. However, I still had accidents, and my mom would put me in Pull-ups and even diapers if I had too many. I remember my mom saying, “Big boys don’t wear diapers,” but I don’t think I cared. I think I was jealous of my little sister, who is three years younger than me. I was put back in diapers after Jessica’s second birthday, which is at the end of May. My birthday is in September, so this was only three months before my fifth birthday. Since I wasn’t fully potty trained, my mom decided to wait another year for me to start kindergarten, which was a good thing because I wasn’t ready. I guess putting me back in diapers worked because I didn’t need them anymore after my fifth birthday. I didn’t even wet the bed anymore. However, I was jealous of Jessica, who was two years old and still not potty trained. I wanted to get the same attention that she got, and when I saw my mom changing Jessica’s diaper I asked, “Can I wear a diaper?” My mom replied, “Honey, you’re a big boy. Big boys don’t wear diapers. Why do you want to wear a diaper?” I shrugged because I didn’t know why. “I don’t know.” “I’m sorry honey, but no. Big kids don’t wear diapers.” I stomped my foot and cried out, “BUT I WANT TO! Please, Mommy!” Mom snapped, “Jacob, stop that! You’re not a baby.” I protested and said, “I’m going to poop my pants.” I squatted down and pushed a big load into my underwear. She grabbed my hand and said, “If that’s what you want, that’s what you’re going to get.” I suddenly realized what I did, and what it meant. I asked, “What are you going to do?” Mom answered, “Pooping your pants on purpose means that you’re not a big boy. You need to go back to diapers.” I protested, “I’m still a big boy.” Mom answered, “Not if you poop your pants. This means that you’ll be treated just like Jessica.” She cleaned me up, put me in a diaper, and then made me take a nap in Jessica’s crib. I even ate dinner in a highchair. I don’t remember how long it took, but it was several days before my mom even let me use the potty again. When I didn’t tell her that I needed to use the potty, she said, “I guess you’re not ready yet,” so I stayed in diapers. She acted like it was completely normal and kept treating me like I was a baby. I even had to use a stroller, like my sister. I ended up staying in diapers for a few weeks and still had accidents after that. I got put in Pull-ups after each accident and had to wear a diaper if I had an accident in my Pull-ups. Whenever I wore a diaper, I was treated like a baby. That was my mom’s rule. It lasted until Jessica was potty trained, and no longer wearing diapers. I didn’t want to wear diapers if Jessica got to wear underwear, so I stopped having accidents. I was still fascinated with diapers, but I don’t remember having major issues with the potty. Fortunately, those desires seemed to ebb into the background after I turned eight. They were still there, but I had other interests and the wish for diapers wasn’t a major one. I wanted to wet my bed, but I never did. In reality, I was pretty good at holding my pee. I could always pee if I needed to, and I could hold it when there wasn’t a bathroom available. Strangely, through most of this time, it was my sister who had those problems. She had giggle incontinence and occasionally wet her pants. She had to wear Pull-ups, but much to my chagrin never had to wear diapers. I didn’t mature emotionally, or physically at the same rate as my classmates. I started kindergarten late, so I was always one of the older kids in my class, but I was also one of the smallest. It wasn’t such a big deal in third grade, because we were all little kids. But it became a bigger deal as we got older. A teacher once yelled at me when I was in sixth grade because she thought I was on the wrong playground. She thought I belonged on the K-3 playground, and not the 4-6 playground. It was even worse in middle school because my friends seemed to be growing up, while I stayed the same. They were interested in girls, and I wasn’t. My friends would make out with their girlfriends, and some even bragged about having sex. I pretended to understand, but I really didn’t and didn’t feel anything for girls. That was fortunate because none of the girls felt anything for me either. I was just some little dweeby kid and had nothing to offer a middle school girl. I had ‘friends’ accuse me of being gay, but I wasn’t even interested in boys like that. Middle school kids can understand homosexuality, in their own way, but don’t have a clue about kids who are neither. On top of all of that, I used to play baseball and soccer when I was younger, but suddenly I was smaller and weaker than all the kids my age. I was no longer good enough to play. I just didn’t fit in, and my interest in diapers came back. I was suddenly dreaming about diapers and wishing I could wear them again. One of my neighbors ran an informal daycare, and I still went there after school. It was the same place I went to when I was a little kid. We just kept going there because it was convenient and my mom didn’t trust me to be by myself, even though I was fourteen. I didn’t mind though, because she had a cool house, made me snacks, and helped me with my homework. There were three little kids who still wore diapers, and I wished I could join them. I also used to meander to the diaper aisle at the grocery store. I’m not sure if my mom knew what I was thinking, but she never said anything about it. At the time, when I was in eighth grade, Mrs. Wilson typically had ten other kids at her house after school. I was fourteen, and the oldest by a large amount. My sister and her best friend Jessica were eleven, and Jessica’s little brother Adam was nine and in third grade. They were like us and just kept going to her house, but most of the kids stopped going after first or second grade. Adam was five years younger than me, and I had known him since he was a baby, but he probably was the closest thing I had to a best friend. He was young enough that he still liked to play with toys, and old enough to play games that were too complicated for little kids. I know it isn’t normal to play with action figures or pretend to be explorers/astronauts, or professional athletes at fourteen years old, but I could do that with him and not feel guilty. I could tell people that I was entertaining a younger child, but in reality, we were just two kids playing. The other kids were much younger. There were two first-grade girls who were BFFs, and Jason had just finished Kindergarten and was just past his sixth birthday. He was the younger brother of Ivy, who was one of the first-grade girls. That was our typical big-kid group, and then there were four little kids. One was four, there was a three-year-old, and then two babies. The four-year-old still wasn’t potty trained and wore diapers almost all the time, and the three-year-old had just graduated out of diapers. There was also Mrs. Wilson’s daughter, but she was older and helped her mom. Rachel was seventeen and going into her senior year in high school. Ironically, Rachel and I are closer in age than I am to Lisa. However, Rachel has always been more of an older cousin. She was on the 4-6 playground when I was in 1st grade; and moved on to middle school when I started 4th grade. She was in high school when I started middle school. She was also our regular babysitter and had been since she was thirteen. Mrs. Wilson took a relaxed approach to potty training, so most of the kids who went to her house were late bloomers. She didn’t believe kids were truly potty-trained until they could independently use the toilet on their own, without any prompts. Until that happened, she believed kids should stay in diapers, and they would potty train themselves when it was time. Even after that, no matter how old we were, Mrs. Wilson’s rule was: we had to wear Pull-ups after an accident, and if that was wet, we were put in a diaper for the rest of the day. It happened to all of us. My sister had to wear Pull-ups a few times when she was nine, and Adam got put in a diaper when he was eight. Jason, the six-year-old kindergartner, was super excited after the last day of school because he was moving on to first grade. As little kids sometimes do when they get excited, Jason wet his pants. That wasn’t unusual for him. He didn’t do it a lot, but it wasn’t the first time he had to wear Pull-ups at Mrs. Wilson’s house. When he was caught, he cried, “I’m sorry, it was an accident.” Mrs. Wilson remarked, “I know it’s an accident, that’s why you have to wear Pull-ups. If you are a big boy and don’t have any more accidents, you can wear big boy pants again.” Jason was still crying when he went outside to play, and his sister, Ivy, comforted him. Ivy said, “Don’t worry, I’ll help remind you to use the potty.” “But Mommy will be mad.” Ivy responded, “Mommy won’t be mad unless you have more accidents.” Unfortunately, Jason had another accident. An accident in a Pull-up meant that he got put in diapers for the rest of the day. We only had another hour before pick-up, but he cried and begged Mrs. Wilson to change her mind. However, Mrs. Wilson never changed her mind. I spent the rest of the day wondering what happened to Jason when he got home. His mom was very disappointed when she picked him up, and I had visions of him staying in diapers for a few more days. It also made me wonder what would happen if I wet my pants. Mrs. Wilson wanted me to be more of a helper and less like a little kid. However, I wasn’t responsible enough to be much help. What would she do if I suddenly started wetting my pants? No matter how hard I tried, my mind kept shifting back to diapers. Back then, before I would fall asleep, I would imagine scenarios where my mom would put me back in diapers. I was pre-loading a diaper dream, and hopefully, I would actually wet the bed one of those nights. However, I never did. I usually had morning wood and a full bladder, but I never wet the bed. That night I imagined myself wetting my pants and I suddenly felt myself peeing. I couldn’t stop peeing, no matter how hard I tried. I woke up and thought, ‘Oh my God, I just wet the bed!’ I was a mix of ecstatic and horrified, and I reached out to check if it really happened. Sure enough, my underwear was wet, but it didn’t feel like pee. It felt more like a sticky lotion. At the time, I was more than a little naïve. I might have been a young teen, but I still had a childlike mindset. I was a little confused, but then realized it was probably a wet dream. It was my first wet dream! I wasn’t sure how to handle it. I changed my underwear, put a towel over the spot on the bed, and went back to sleep. I was oddly satisfied, disappointed, and guilty all at the same time. I wondered what would happen if I started to wet the bed again. This wasn’t something I wanted to tell my mom about, so I hid the underwear and put my covers over the sheets to hide the evidence. Mind you, my mom wanted me to do my own laundry and wanted me to put things in the washing machine. I should have put everything in the washing machine, but I wasn’t very good at remembering to do those things. Also, unless my mom prompted me, I never made my bed in the morning. I think my mom realized what happened, but she never said anything about it. I know that she saw the sticky sheets because I had new sheets that evening, and my laundry was folded. The next night I imagined my mom making me wear diapers all summer. I even started to imagine sleeping in a crib and being treated like a baby, just like when I was five. I wasn’t sure if my mom would do that, nor did I know what Mrs. Wilson would do. I started to lay out the scenarios. What would happen if I just stopped using the toilet, and started to pee and poop my pants? I needed to pee, so I decided to wet the bed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as I imagined. I had to imagine myself standing next to a toilet before I could start. Even then, there wasn’t very much. However, it was enough to count as a wet bed. It was the first time I had wet the bed since I was seven years old.
  11. Chapter 1 “Aww look like the little ones lost. Oh well, they can become the next lost ones in my game but now I need a new bunch. These past few haven't been as much fun. They end up giving up too quickly.” The lady gets an idea and snaps her fingers. She then pulls out a laptop laying it on her large table. It has character sheets on it that look in bad shape before they crumble to dust and blow away. She opened up a group chat on her favorite d&d website. There were 4 people chatting back and forth. She smiles as she read them the first one is from someone’s username ‘Beast’ “Hell ya, nat 20 bitch! I want to kill it as cool as possible!” The next person to respond was just called ‘GM’ “Ya ya...how the heck do you get so lucky at all my games…? You just break all my stories.” GM explained how Beast killed the large Minotaur with his large two-handed weapon. “Now Brick, can you roll a d20 for me? You did get knocked out after all.” This ‘Brick’ person rolls a d20 getting a 10 “Come on, my rolls are so bad! I swear this game is rigged!” The last person types just called ‘hunter’ replies to brick “Hehehe seriously? We've been playing these games with the same group for over a year now and you think it's rigged? Come on man take a chill pill.” Brick replies back “Ya ya...whatever.” Gm replies next “Ok brick is going to be out for a few days. You can move on and carry him or stay and rest. But we can do that tomorrow. I need a break. But has it really been a year already? And I still have yet to get to play a single game myself…” Beast replies “Well none of us know how to DM. But fine go to bed, he's probably got a bedtime! Sleep tight lol” Hunter replies “Damn it beast, can you be nice to our DM for once?! I got an idea! DM if you find a new DM we can all play a game how's that sound” Brick replies next “I'm in! That sounds like fun! I bet the DMs even better at this damn game than me anyways.” Beast just sends a rolling eye emoji “Ya sure whatever as long as I get to be the badass two-handed ax welder!” The DM replies “Really?! Deal! I'll look for a new DM tonight and get back to you all. I'll text you all later, bye!” DM has logged out, appears in the chat log. Then Hunter replies. “Heh, he's cute when he's happy. Later beast, later brick see you tomorrow!” Hunter has logged off. Brick replies. “Cute? What was cute about that? never heard him speak like that. Anyways see ya man.” Brick logs off and then so does beast. The lady at the table smirks. “Well, Natalie looks like you just found your next group. Now to figure out who this DM is.” Natalie gets to work looking up everything she can off his account and finds the name Laphin after hacking into his account. “Lapin heh cute name. Hmm, interesting he lives not too far away. What are the odds, guess I rolled a nat 20.” She writes down the address and begins to make an invite to a huge D&D game on her laptop. She quickly finished it and Put lapin's info on it and drove all the way to his place putting it in his mailbox. “Now we just play the waiting game~” Laphin is an 18-year-old boy about 4’5 he was quite short. He is a white tiger with glasses he has taped up. He stands up from his computer desk and sighs. “How am I going to find a DM? I'm so tired of DMing games, I want to play for once. I also don't want to let my friends down. Well, I know hunters, my friend, and maybe brick? I don't think beast likes anyone. I really need to get everyone's IRL name sometime.” He lays back on his bed and yawns and an older white tiger lady walks into his room. She looked like she was straight out of the wild west. She carried a gun on her hip and a cowgirl outfit. “Laphin? You're still awake? Get to bed now. Way past your bedtime!” Laphin takes off his glasses and covers up. “S-sorry mom!” Even though he was 18 his mom still treated him like a child. She leaves and he sighs laying on his side. “I bet no one else has to deal with this…what's worse is I get bullied all the time at school for it too. Glad it's my senior year, I can't wait to graduate.” Laphin drifts off to sleep, he sleeps great before suddenly he's woken up the next day. “Time to wake up, Laphin you got mail!” Lapin's mother throws him a letter and leaves. Laphin groans and rubs his eyes looking at the paper, unable to read it. He grabs his glasses and opens it up. “Why am I getting mail? Maybe I got into that nice school?” He begins to read it. “Are you big on Dungeons and dragons? Do you want to play a game for 100 thousand dollars for each person on your team?! Well, come join my challenge for your chance to win, remember teams must be of 4! Give me a call if interested if you need help paying to get your team together I'll help pay for a trip there and back! So come and join my world of Babulis!” Lapin was blown away. He jumped up on his bed and jumped off his bed making a loud thump as he quickly grabbed his phone. Suddenly his mother screams. “Laphin you better not be breaking anything in there!!” Laphin shiver “S-sorry mom! It was an accident!” He quickly messages his three friends telling them about the letter he got. His first message back was from Hunter. “Holy shit dude! This is awesome but it almost sounds too good to be true? You sure we can't trust this?” Next was brick “LET'S DO IT! I'm needing some money anyway. My rent is getting way too high.” And last was Beast to reply “100k?! Let's do this!! I'll beat this game with my eyes closed!” Laphin sighed, and it seemed only hunter wasn't sure. He messaged him back. “Come on, please don't let me be alone with beast and brick. I feel like we are the only two smart ones. But I'm sure we can win! As for safety, why would they spend so much money to get you here if it's a scam or something?” The wait was killer on Laphin before Hunter finally replied. “Heh, alright I'll come. But only if my trip over and back is paid. So you better get ahold of this person ok? I'm sure beast and brick can't afford a trip out there either. So you think you can handle that responsibility?” Laphin jumped up and down typing back “YES YES! Yay thank you, thank you!!” He messaged both beast and brick that he would make sure they had a way over as soon as he could then began to call the number on the mail he got. He held his finger over the call button nervously before taking a deep breath. He hit the call and it rang then someone picked up. “Hiya! This is Natalie! Are you calling about my D&D challenge? “ Laphin was awfully shy talking to real people, not on messages. So he talked quite quietly and softly. “Y-ya...and I got some fri-” Natalie giggles “No need to be shy, but you got some friends that need a trip over, correct?” Laphin was confused. “Ya but-” Natalie interrupts him again. “Wonderful! Just tell me their address and by next week we will start the game. I can't wait to have you all here! Don't forget to tell your family that the game might last a while so you need to be here at least a week. Maybe longer, don't worry about food, I have that covered!” Laphin was just so confused but excited “O-ok I'll get you their addresses” Natalie smirks “Can't wait to play, bye cutie~!” She hangs up and laphin just stares at his phone blushing and then smiles then his face goes pale. “Wait a week?! There's no way mom will let me do that… I’ll ask later I got a week I suppose.” He asks everyone for their addresses and sends it to this Natalie in a text. Suddenly Laphins mom calls him. “Laphin! Come and get your breakfast! What the heck are you still doing in your room??” He finishes up before He puts his phone down “Coming mom!” He then rushes to the kitchen and sits at the table and his mom sits some eggs and bacon in front of him. “Thanks, mom” He sighs and begins to think about how he can ask his mom if he can go play a game of D&D for a week or so. Then he remembered his mom was very greedy. “Oh, mom! You know these games of D&D, I play?” She sighs “Oh, these games that you play when you should be studying?” Laphin groans “I guess, but schools too easy! But that's not the p-” His mom interrupts “Laphin I don't care it’s still just a stupid game they cant make you money!” Laphin smirks “What if I told you I could make 100K from one game if I win?” His mom looked interested. “I'm listening…” Laphin then goes on to explain his chances at this game with his friends. “A week? Or more? Hmm.” They finished eating. “Hmm...Fine but if you win you will pay me some money you owe.” Laphin jumps up out of his chair and hugs his mom “Thank you, thank you! Anything! You can have it all for all I care, I just want to hang out with my friends!” His mom hugs back surprised and smiles. “I'm glad you made friends. I know it's hard with your size and all. And you just being a nerd” She laughs and Laphin blushes. “Mom!“ She pats his back. “Oh get over it Laphin you're still my little boy. But you better win this uhh game, your Christmas present might be on the line!” She laughs and he pouts. “That hardly seems fair...whatever so I can go?” She nods and he smiles. His mom gave him one last kiss on the head. Next, we head on over to Beasts place. There stood a tall black goat named Rie who wore a grey hoodie and jeans. He sets his phone down and heads to his room. He was 28 and lived alone, he smirks. “So I guess I'm meeting these nerds I play with. I'm sure hunter and DM are like these big nerds with glasses but brick acts differently. Don't even know each other's names and we are going to meet. Heh, 100k man so many things I could buy! Fuck my job I will quit as soon as I win!” Rie begins to pack clothing and stuff for next week who knows how long they will be gone. But otherwise, he has a fairly easy week till his trip. Next, let's check on Brick. Brick or Zev as he's known by is a half-goat he's got a goat tail, ears, and horns. He's a 23-year-old man who lives in a small apartment with a bunch of posters of girls. He's quite strong-looking and built well. He always wears a sleeveless shirt and shorts. He puts his phone down on his table. “100k huh? Heh, we will win this easily! Beast will kill an ill tank like normal, we are the best team! Well, and hunter he gets off a few lucky hits...ok maybe a lot whatever. So I'll be going far out next week. That's a shame. Hope mom and my little brother will be fine without me around. Probably won't even tell them so they don’t worry.” He heads to his kitchen to eat then begins to pack his bags. Next, we check on Hunter. They are in a large hoodie covering their body and some baggie pants they smile at their phone after sending their address. “Heh, Gm always acts so cute. He must be a little younger than the other two. Maybe a lot? Kinda hope he's at least 18. That would be fun.” They pull down their hoodie to reveal their long hair dyed purple and reddish-pink. She was a young girl about 26 her name was Zoe. she laid back on her bed. “Hopefully he's not underage….that would be awkward. He acts like he's 15 sometimes. Oh well, guess I'll find out next week. I'm kinda excited for everyone to meet me. I'm sure they think I'm a guy. Better off I'm sure brick and beast would have been hitting on me a lot if they knew.” She giggles. “But that's how I preferred it. I know if Beast or brick knew I was a girl I would never hear the end of it...gross there ok friends I guess, but I don't see myself with assholes like them. Well bricks less of a dick and just kinda...dumb heh” She fantasizes about their first time meeting. Now that everyone was on track all they had to do was wait to see each other next week. I know I'm excited too. Oh sorry, you know me, I'm Natalie and I'm going to be telling the rest of this story. I would let the others tell it but there...busy! Very very busy. WANT TO READ MORE I HAVE 2 MORE CHAPTER UP ON MY PATREON OR YOU CAN WAIT TILL ITS COMPLEATE BEFORE ANY MORE ARE POSTED HERE. I POST A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY! ONLY $1 A MONTH https://www.patreon.com/Little_Rie
  12. This is my first ever story. I do apologize for any grammar mistakes. I wrote it on my iPhone and this is the first story I’ve ever posted. Would love to hear your thoughts on the story.Thank you for reading. So, when I went to Disney World with my "mommy" it was actually the third day I was with after I met her in person. This took place about two weeks ago. She had mentioned it would be fun to go there and I went along with it. We ended up going to the magical kingdom. Apparently, there are three different parks. You probably knew about this, but it was kind of new to me. She wore a pretty dress with a bow in her hair and I wore a colorful pair of board shorts with a baby print Bambino diaper underneath.I ended up driving because I had rented a minivan that would have plenty of room in the back for possible diaper changes if needed. Since she was from Orlando she was an expert in all things Disney. She knew the best way to go about buying the tickets at the best price and how to navigate the park without waiting in to many lines. I can't remember how many times she said she had been there, but it was a lot. I let her guide me around the park and do whatever she saw fit. This turned out to be a good idea because she turned out to be an expert at maximizing fun at Disney World. I don't remember all the rides we went on, but there were a lot. Every ride we went on was a two seater and we got on together. We went on thunder mountain, the teacups, it's a small world, some Peter Pan thing, a ride inspired by Lilo and stitch, and countless others. I think we got there around 330 and left around 10. The whole time we were there I was like a real baby boy holding his mommy's hand in true aww of the whole situation. She played games with me the whole time and made sure I was safe. It made me feel so special. She was so cute the whole time. She would ask me how I was doing with my diaper and occasionally give me a little love tap on my diapered butt. The only way I can truly describe the day is to say that it was enchanting. On top of that, she truly seemed to enjoy it just as much as me. That was really important to me. Anytime I am doing something fun I want the other person I'm with to be having fun as well. Any good relationship needs to be fun for both parties and it truly seemed like it was fun for her too. I guess I can't tell the whole story without mentioning that we did need to have one diaper change while I was there. At one point she looked at me with a knowing look and said that it looked like her baby needed his diaper changed. When I heard her say that I truly blushed like a little boy with his hand in the cookie jar. I knew this would happen at some point, but when the time came I truly was scared. She of course took me to a family bathroom and luckily it was a single person use only. While we were waiting in line there was a couple in front of us waiting to change their baby. The mom looked at us and said that we were in the wrong line and that we could just use the regular one next-door. At that point mommy looked at her and said that she knew what line we were in and that we needed to use this one. The woman looked at us a little strangely, but let it go. I was truly freaking out, but there was nothing to worry about. When we got in there she laid a towel down on the floor for me and went about doing the diaper change like a pro. She made sure to use plenty of powder and even blew a raspberry on my tummy when we were done. After she got done with my diaper change she redid her make up and I watched her quietly in pure disbelief that I just had my diaper changed at Disney World. It was so much fun. As we were leaving we got stopped by the Disney parade. Apparently, it happens every night. We watched all the Disney characters march through the streets. Then, as we were going to the car to leave we passed what I think is Cinderella's castle and fireworks literally started going off. She then grabbed my hand and we had a special mommy baby moment watching the fireworks go off. We continued holding hands as the fireworks went off and we walked to our car. As I mentioned, I drove. While we were driving back I sort of got out of my little space and we just talked about it like two adults. It was really great to reflect on what an amazing day it was for both of us. When we got back to her house she changed my diaper and I got back in baby mode. When the diaper change was complete she put me in my onesie and gave me a bottle. After that, she helped me put together a puzzle on the floor. As we completed the puzzle she said I had to go to bed. Like any other tired baby I didn't want to go to bed and I didn't want the night to end, but she persisted and finally tucked me into my crib. Then, after giving me another baba she read me a story that actually put me to sleep. This was only my third day in my whole life of baby play. I can only assume it's not always like this, but let's just say after this day I was hooked. If you actually have read this far please forgive me as this is the longest thing I have written since I was in college and had I to type it on my IPhone with limited spell check. I can only assume it was riddled with run-on sentences and less than great grammar. Thank you so much for reading this as this is the first time I have ever shared the story with anyone. It makes it feel that much more magical being able to share it. I know that sounds corny, but it's true. After reading all this, I'm sure you can tell you wouldn't have to twist my arm too hard to go back.
  13. “Hey, don’t drop the beer!” a young man called back to his friend. The tent he was setting up almost complete. “Adam, just shut up and help me unload the car.” Mark set the ice chest next to the tent. “Why isn’t your girlfriend helping with any of this?” “I drove, Mark,” a female’s voice chimed in from the car. “We’re all doing our part, so just unload the damn car.” Adam snickered, “Whoa, Mark, you really pissed off Julie.” Upon completion of the tent, he got to work setting up another one. “I’m not pissed off, just explaining how tasks are getting divided up,” Julie explained, getting out of the car. She walked over to the cooler and grabbed a beer. “I drove for a few hours, you’re setting up the tents, and Mark unpacks the car.” the tab popped and Julie took a sip, “Sounds fair to me, I mean if anything, I’ve been ‘working’ the longest.” “Fine, whatever,” Mark grunted, “car’s unloaded anyway.” he grabbed a beer from the ice box, both he and Julie watched as Adam finished setting up the tent. Mark tossed a beer to him after the work was done. “Thanks” Adam popped the tab, “feels great to leave the campus.” “You said it,” Mark took a long sip. “It’s starting to get dark, so I’m going to start the fire.” The friends had a lot to drink that night and the rest of the night was a blurry haze for Adam. *** The next thing Adam knew, he was face down in dirt. “Whew, what a wild night,” he remarked, expecting a response. When nobody answered, he looked around. All he could see was trees. “Alright, guys, it was funny, but joke’s over.” his voice echoed through the trees. “Well, shit.” Adam picked a direction and started walking, he found a path as he continued. After about an hour of walking he came upon a thick mist. After traversing through the mist, he found himself back on a part of the path which he’d already been to, but noticed a cottage which he had missed the previous time. “Maybe someone lives here and can give directions,” he mumbled to himself as he knocked on the door. The door was promptly answered. A red haired, green eyed woman answered the door. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Hi, sorry to bother you, but I’m a little lost,” Adam replied. “I was camping by the edge of the woods with some friends.” “I think I know the area, people camp there sometimes, but not very often. I can see that it’s a little foggy out, so why don’t you come in and wait out the fog?” “I’d really rather just get back to my friends-” his hand was grabbed and he was pulled inside, door shut behind him. “You don’t understand, I get lost out there when the mist is out, what’s more is there’s a river and if you walk into that it’s been nice knowing you.” she pulled up a chair and had Adam sit down. “My name’s Rebecca, by the way.” “Look Rebecca, you’re nice, but I have a girlfriend and I don’t think I’m dumb enough to fall into a river, so all I need are directions, a map, or something and then I’ll be on my way.” Rebecca looked disappointed, but retrieved a pen and paper anyway. Adam looked it over and memorized it. “I understand that you need to get back to your friends, but would you like something to drink before you head out?” Adam rubbed his temples, this girl just wasn’t getting the hint. He was in a hurry to get back to his friends. “Fine,” he replied, wanting to shut her up. “but I really do have to get going.” Rebecca brought a couple of glasses out from the cabinet and poured some wine. Adam snatched his and gulped it down. He began to feel a little light headed after doing so. “Before you go, what’s your name?” Rebecca asked. Adam began to feel dizzy. “It’s...Adam” he replied. He’d probably have trouble walking there now. What was in that wine. “I’m starting to feel tired.” “Well come right this way.” Rebecca grabbed his hand again. “You can sleep here for the night.” she helped Adam get into the bed “thanks for the company, it gets really lonely up here.” “I’m leaving as soon as I’m sober.” Adam replied, “I drank too much last night and I think it’s starting to kick in again.” “You don’t want to stay with me at all?” she sounded offended. “I just met you and you seem really needy.” Adam groaned, “I’m not trying to be rude, I just have other obligations...oh god, what was in that wine?” “It was just wine, no need to be rude.” Adam felt the room start to spin and then blacked out. *** When Adam came to he found that the room looked bigger. His underwear felt very tight, but otherwise he didn’t have any clothes on. He tried to pick himself up off the bed, but his arms just wouldn’t function as he wanted them to, instead they just waived in the air. He’d have to ask that lady what she did to him. He felt alert, but this new sensation could probably characteristic of some other drug. “Rah rah” he was shocked that he couldn’t form words anymore. “Well, good morning sunshine.” Adam felt anger at the sound of Rebecca’s voice. “I’m sure you have many questions, but fortunately for me, you can’t ask them anymore.” “Bah bah” Adam wanted to ell her to back off, but realized he couldn’t. “Oh, you just make the cutest little sounds!” Rebecca belittled him. “As for the ‘wine’ that was actually a baby transformation potion, so now you can’t leave and I guess you’re the needy one now.” Rebecca chuckled. Adam started to cry. “Oh, don’t cry sweety. Soon your memories and cognitive functions will fade and you won’t care anymore, why within a week you’ll probably be completely used to this.” Adam sobbed harder. “Well, I guess I can grant you that this will take some getting used to, but right now it looks like someone left mommy a present, so let’s get you cleaned up.” She picked Adam up from the bed and carried him into another room. Adam noticed that this room was a nursery. Rebecca laid Adam on the changing table and got to work changing his diaper. Adam stopped sobbing as Rebecca taped the diaper. He hadn’t noticed that he’d soiled himself at all. Seemingly from out of nowhere, Rebecca blew a raspberry on his stomach which caused him to giggle. “There’s my baby. Here, I got you this bear onesie.” Rebecca put Adam’s legs, arms, and then torso in before zipping it up. “There, now you look like a cute little bear.” Adam started to get annoyed. Even though he was just a baby now and couldn’t respond, Rebecca was as talkative as ever. She picked Adam up and took him back to the kitchen. “I’m gonna set you down so you can play for a little while while mommy gets your breakfast ready.” After Adam was set down, he noticed that the door had been left open. Trying not to make too much noise, he crawled out of the cottage. Adam got back on the path. He still remembered the directions from the map Rebecca had drawn up. With difficulty and lots of time, Adam found his way back to camp. He could see Mark and Julie playing on their phones by the firepit. “Ma” he called. Julie looked up from her phone, “Mark, look. There’s a baby.” she got up and approached Adam. “Don’t tell me we’re watching it.” Mark groaned. “It’s parents are probably around somewhere.” “I haven’t noticed anyone else out here,” Julie replied. She picked Adam up and held him against her chest. “Hello,” she called out. “If anyone’s out there, we found your baby.” Adam didn’t like that he was being called a baby or that it was his own girlfriend who was calling him one. As anger built up he couldn’t help but let it out. Tears started streaming down his cheeks. “What’s wrong with it now?” Mark groaned. “He’s either hungry or needs to be changed, maybe both.” Julie replied. “Wish I’d come prepared for this. My sister has kids and I usually have a diaper or two in my car.” “Thank god you cleaned it out before the trip.” Mark snapped. “What do you have against kids?” Mark took a deep breathe. “Nothing, guess I’m just stressed that Adam hasn’t come back yet.” Julie rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t looked for him.” She lifted Adam above her head and sniffed him, “Yeah, think he needs to be changed. Let’s just find this kid’s parents and we’ll probably run into Adam while we’re in the woods anyway. “Oh, all right.” Mark sighed, clearly annoyed at the situation. “Though I really think I should wait here in case Adam does show up.” Adam started to sob. He wanted to tell them that he was right there, but he just couldn’t speak anymore. “Let’s hurry” Julie said, “the longer he goes without getting changed, the worse his skin will get.” Mark got up from the lawn chair and they entered the woods. After following the path for some time, Mark and Julie found a cottage. “Look, there’s a house” Mark said, “Maybe they live here.” Julie and Mark walked to the door and Mark knocked on it. Almost immediately the door was answered by a tear-stricken Rebecca whose face lit up after seeing Adam in Julie’s arms. Rebecca grabbed Adam from Julie’s arms. Adam would have resisted, but was just tired at this point. None of his efforts did anything and everyone thought that he was just a little baby. “Don’t ever scare mommy like that again, Adam.” “He found his way to our camp, about five miles away.” Mark stated. Rebecca looked at Mark, “Well thank you for bringing him back to me. I was looking everywhere for him.” “Oh, Adam’s your name. I have a friend named Adam.” Julie said to the baby. Adam giggled a little, mostly out of the ironic fact that he was said friend. “Adam’s a good name,” Rebecca agreed. “Do you guys want to come in and rest for a while?” “Sorry,” Mark said, “we’re out looking for our lost friend.” “His name is Adam,” Julie chimed in. “Well, I’m sure he’ll turn up soon, but if you guys don’t mind I would like to thank you for returning my child to me.” “Sorry, but we do have to get going-” Julie started. “Sure.” Mark cut her off, earning him a dark look from Julie. The group entered the cottage and Rebecca placed Adam in a high chair. “Whew, smells like someone needs to be changed.” She picked Adam up again. “Sorry, but this little guy needs some attention. Just take a seat at the table and make yourselves comfortable.” “We should be out looking for Adam right now,” Julie hissed. “Look, you just walked five miles carrying a baby, and I’m tired, I’d imagine you’re even more tired,” Mark replied, “besides, he’s been missing for a while now, so we should probably quit looking ourselves and get park rangers involved.” Julie looked down at her feet. She didn’t want to agree with Mark, but did see the logic in his suggestion. “I just don’t know how he could’ve gotten himself lost out here.” Rebecca returned carrying Adam to the high chair, the diapered baby tried to resist, but failed. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting, you said something about a missing friend?” She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a couple beers along with a jar of baby food. “Yeah, we’re about to go to the park rangers for help. We’ve looked for him and he’s been gone for close to a day now, so maybe some more eyes would be helpful.” Mark and Julie accepted the beers from Rebecca who grabbed a spoon from a drawer and began spoon feeding Adam. Mark and Julie stared as Adam tried to remove the bib Rebecca placed on him, he also refused the first bite. Rebecca started making “choo choo train” noises which irked Adam into trying to tell Rebecca to stop. As soon as Adam opened his mouth he felt the spoon against his tongue. Rebecca tilted the spoon upward so Adam couldn’t spit it out. Adam swallowed. He was out of air and couldn’t fight the food away. As soon as he swallowed he felt his mind start to dull. He looked over at Mark and Julie, but couldn’t remember their names. He knew they looked familiar, so he laughed. “There we go.” Adam quit refusing his food. “You guys should eat something before you head out again. Once I get him fed I can make you some sandwiches or something.” As the jar emptied the last of Adam’s self awareness faded. Adam didn’t struggle as Rebecca picked him up and put him in the nursery crib. “Sorry to keep you, I know you must be worried for your friend, but I do have some wine I’d like you to try before you go.” Mark nodded eagerly, while Julie just stared off into space. Julie grabbed a few glasses and a wine bottle from the cupboard and began pouring, then she placed a cup in front of both Mark and Julie. Mark chugged his cup right away and Julie just stared at hers. “Think I’ve had enough booze for one day.” Julie sighed. “I’m starting to feel kinda drowsy,” Mark announced. He was ignored as Rebecca and Julie stared at each other. “Please just try the wine and tell me what you think. It’s my special recipe.” “Yeah, what’s in it?” Julie eyed Rebecca skeptically. “Just wine. Alcoholic grape juice if you will.” Julie rolled her eyes. They needed to get going before it got dark. She downed the wine to be polite then said, “Come on Mark, we have to go.” “Julie, I’m really dizzy,” Mark replied. I don’t know what was in that wine, but I’m really dizzy. Rebecca grabbed Julie’s wrist as she attempted to put her fingers in her mouth to make herself vomit. “Now, now. I can’t have you bringing park rangers here.” Julie was starting to feel dizzy. “What did you do?” “Your friend you’ve been looking for is actually sleeping soundly in his crib right now.” Rebecca replied. “I don’t want to get under anyone’s radar, so I’m afraid I can’t let you two leave.” Julie propped herself up using the table for support. She watched as Mark was gently guided to the floor. He looked smaller than he had a few moments ago. “What’s happening to me?” Mark breathed. “You’re just getting younger, that’s all, my cute little Marky.” Rebecca replied. “Soon you’ll be a little baby, then I’ll feed you dinner and put you to bed for the night.” “Why are you doing this?” Julie asked as she was being guided to the floor. “Why did you do this to Adam?” she couldn’t believe that she had unknowingly assisted in her boyfriend’s and her own abduction. “I got bored...and lonely. Don’t worry though. I don’t think I’ll get tired of you, but if I do, I’ll find a nice orphanage to dump you all. Your friend was kind of rude to me though, so he had this coming.” “Why not just change us back after you’ve had your fun?” Julie was dumbstruck at the pile of clothes that occupied the spot where Mark had been. She just stared as her friend was fished out of the pile and diapered. Mark looked very drowsy and wasn’t combative as a bib was put on him. Rebecca whistled. “That transformation was fast. Anyway I’ve always wanted a family, but guys are assholes and ditch me. They tell me I’m too ‘needy’. So after last time I decided to just make the guy family, like any rational witch would do.” The witch put mark in the high chair and started feeding him baby food. It was getting harder for Julie to focus, but she watched as the witch fed Mark whatever that stuff was. Mark now seemed oblivious to their plight, which told Julie that Mark was gone, a drooling infant took his place. While Rebecca took Mark to the nursery, the transformation was quick. Julie was suddenly engulfed by her clothes. She tried to speak, but all that came out was giberish. “Well, Julie, looks like you’ll be reunited with your friend after all,” Julie felt Rebecca’s hands fish her out of her clothing. She noticed the diaper at Rebecca’s side. Julie was very combative as she was diapered, when the bib was put on her, she kept throwing it off. “Well, guess I can just clean you up after dinner, but I’d prefer it if you just cooperated.” Julie did not accept any food. “You sure you don’t want to eat, little one? You don’t have any food in you.” Julie held her ground, relenting with a sigh, Rebecca picked Julie up and took her into the nursery, where she saw her infantilized friends sleeping peacefully in a crib. “Well, there’s your friends. You can stay with them for the night if you behave.” Julie was placed in the crib with Adam and Mark while Rebecca stood there watching them. Anger at their predicament welled up inside Julie and she started to cry. “No, no, no, no. Can’t have you waking up your brothers.” Rebecca scolded as she retrieved Julie from the crib. “Tell you what, kiddo. You get to sleep with mommy tonight.” Julie was carried to the room where Adam had slept the night before. Rebecca held Julie in her lap as she turned on the television. Julie’s awareness dulled as cartoons flashed before her eyes.
  14. JE PUNK

    New Big Baby

    Kirie was a woman in her mid 30s as she was sitting on the bench at the park looking around to see who her new baby was going to be.
  15. Rei Takagi was just a small orphaned 10 year old girl who had been having a string of accidents for the past month which she got scolded and hit by her foster family. Unable to take anymore abuse the small decided to runaway and has been on her own for almost a week. Rei was now dirty, starving, not to mention now walking in soaked panties.
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