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

This story follows a 13 year old boy from England, who’s life is about to head in a totally unexpected direction. Tommy’s Trials Chapter One - Calm before the Storm Tommy was like any other 13 year old boy in England. He went to school, played video games, loved football, and had few cares in life. The boy lived a very normal life, but all that was about to change. “Wake up Tommy, it’s time for school!” shouted Mum Groggily, the lad rubbed his eyes and threw off his covers. He pulled off his grey Pokémon pajamas, allowing them to pool on the floor, with Pikachu’s yellow figure smiling back at him. Tommy loved Pokémon, even if the other kids thought it was too babyish now. He grabbed his grey school shorts, white shirt, clip on tie, black blazer, and prepared to put on his regular ensemble. It was the first day back at Riverside High School, and the summer break was over. The boy had so much fun, and now was the return the monotony of secondary school. “I made you boys some toast” said mum, as Tommy walked into the kitchen. “Thanks mummy!” squealed Tommy’s little brother Riley. The 7 year old boy was always full of energy, despite the fact it was 8am. The boys ate breakfast and prepared to leave, their emotions greatly contrasting each other. “Let’s go Riley, we’re gonna be late” exclaimed Tommy, grabbing his little brother’s hand. So they set off, with their first stop being Riverside Primary for Riley. Tommy was a good big brother & walked his annoying sibling to school every day. They arrived at Riley’s school, just a five minute walk away from Tommy’s. The boys hugged and said goodbye, but not before the supervising teacher stumbled upon them. She was new, the boys had never seen her before. “Okay boys, come on, school starts soon, get yourselves inside” said Miss Lisa, ushering them inside the great gates. Tommy instantly realised what was happening. The uniforms were similar and his secondary school blazer was in his bag, the teacher had mistaken him for a primary school kid. Tommy was small for his age, often mistaken for much younger than he was. The two brothers were similar in size, and many adults believed them to be twins at first glance. “I don’t go to this school” Tommy glumly replied, “I’m in high school”. “Oh I’m so sorry, I thought you were another one of our boys” apologised Miss Lisa. “Apology not accepted” thought Tommy, he was sick of being mistaken for a little kid, wondering when he would finally have a growth spurt. So Riley marched in excitedly, and Tommy left for Riverside High. His eyes set on the familiar ancient blue gates, a lighthouse guiding the way for ships of tired sailors in the dark morning. He mentally prepared himself for the first day of school, unknowing of the crashing waves which were about to sink his life into a totally different direction.

18-year-old Benjamin has just been evicted from the college dorms after he has failed out of college for the semester. He sits in the student lounge with his bags while he figures out his next moves. His former professor Megan is talking to her faculty friend and sees him sitting alone. She is confused because he is supposed to be in her class for the semester. "Hi Ben. I missed you in my class this semester. Are you okay?"

Long time lurker. This is the first story I have written. Writing isn’t my strength, and It takes me forever to write, re-read, and rewrite. I have already written 20 chapters. I hope everyone finds this story different but interesting. This is a slow burn, but it does get into the diapers and regression. It will take a few chapters to really get into it. I can see this going for at least another 20 chapters on top of the twenty chapters already written. Chapter 1: The New Intern Avery let out a deep sigh of relief as he read the email he had just received from the biomedical technology department. He was finally being recognized for his hard work and dedication. His complex calculations and programming to demonstrate the interactions between a relatively new drug and a person's DNA had proven correct and valuable, leading to him being hired over a month ago - despite the doubt and ridicule from his colleagues. He leaned back in his chair, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. On the one hand, he was elated that his efforts were beginning to be acknowledged, but on the other hand, he felt uncertain if this would lead to further respect or more challenges from those who never believed in him. A sense of pride mixed with apprehension began to stir within him, thoughts of the potential applications of this research tumbling through his mind. Ever since Avery Sage was a little boy, he has experienced problems with keeping his pants dry. Maybe it had something to do with the car accident that claimed the lives of his parents. Perhaps the foster homes he cycled through caused him stress, or maybe he would have always had this problem. All he knew for sure was that he needed to wear protection when out in public because when he got stressed, his bladder gave way. As a result, whenever he left the security of his home, he wore pull-ups, which made him feel like a little kid and dampened his confidence. His confidence wasn't helped because he was only five foot and one inch tall for a young man. These anxieties certainly didn’t help his mental health. He suffered from depression, anxiety, and insomnia. He regularly saw a psychiatrist and was on medication, but life could still be a struggle. He thought back to his first week of work. Avery graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Mathematics and Biochemistry at the age of 18. A year later, he was offered an internship while working on his master's in Biochemistry and Genetics. Avery stepped through the doors of DNA Pharmacia, feeling equal parts nervousness and excitement. He had been preparing for this moment his whole life – the chance to finally earn some respect and prove all those who had doubted him wrong. Flashbacks filled his mind of all the running between foster care families he had endured; it had made his self-confidence falter, but nonetheless provided the motivation for him to finish high school years early and break free from the wings of his current foster family. Now was the time to show what he was made of. As Avery sat in the HR office, he wore his dress clothes for his first day, which was saying much– a little too large for his slim, small frame – but still managing to make him feel small and helpless against the world around him. People seemed to look through him everywhere he went as if he were invisible, yet he couldn't shake off the nagging sensation that all eyes were upon him. His shoulders sagged under the weight of defeat that shrouded his self-confidence. His wavery, untamed hair was combed back the best it could be. “Ok, Avery.” Julian, the HR representative, said. “You're done. You're officially an employee of DNA Pharmacia.” “I won’t let you down. I promise.” Avery smiled as he stood up and reached across the desk to shake Julian’s hand. Julian's expression was warm and encouraging as he shook Avery's hand. Julian was a tall, distinguished man in his late thirties, wearing a navy blue suit and a striped tie. His brown eyes twinkle with kindness, and he has a slight, friendly smirk while speaking to Avery. His handshake was firm but slightly frail, making Avery feel nervous that he had no idea if he could uphold such a promise. Doesn't everyone think that on their first day at work? Avery thought to himself. Julian just smiled back at him from his kind face, like he could read Avery's mind. “Great, I am hoping for good things from you. Shall I show you to your new desk and department?” Julian returned the smile. “Yes, please,” Avery followed Julian out of the room. They took two flights up in the elevator to a department called “Chemical DNA Sequencing Department.” and walked side-by-side down the long corridors of the main building. They passed glass panels on every wall and Avery marveled at how modern this building was. He watched sensors scanning vials of chemicals and equipment, feeding data into computers across the room. It was clear no money had been spared in making DNA a cutting-edge company. Every window they passed made him want to stop and ask what was happening; it all looked so exciting, and he couldn’t wait to start. All this made him forget that he secretly wore a pull-up underneath his clothes as protection was needed. It was down one of these corridors that Avery met an older man. The man had a strong jawline and sharp features, aged but wise. His eyes were a deep blue, crinkling at the corners when he smiled. His gray hair was neatly trimmed, and his beard was flecked with silver. He wore a crisp white shirt with black trousers and polished black shoes. He towered over Avery with an air of authority, yet his demeanor was warm and friendly. Avery recognized him from some of the interviews he had gone through to land this job. “Welcome! You must be our marvelous new intern. I am Bryan Wells, and you'll report directly to me! At your desk we have a laptop and a corporate iPhone with the works waiting there for you. From your resume and job interviews, my colleagues have noticed your peculiar knack for math and biochemistry, so we have an exciting task ahead for you! On your desk is a folder that outlines our challenge: debug a computational logic program that looks at DNA to determine designer drugs for fighting cancer. It's a riddle waiting to be solved - think you can do it? Report back any bugs as soon as possible, and we'd be grateful!” Bryan said cheerfully as he led Avery to his desk. “Yes, sir,” Avery replied. He would have agreed to do whatever Bryan needed. He was eager to impress. Bryan continued to talk to Avery. It was a one-sided conversation. Avery was too in awe of everything he was seeing to really contribute much. For him, this place was like a dream—top-level research with some of the smartest people in the world where his work could actually help people. Avery looked around the room. A long row of cubicles ran down one wall with a dozen or so scientists already hard at work on their projects. Avery's desk was tucked into the corner by an emergency exit. The light blue walls were sparse, containing only a few motivational posters and pictures of animals from Earth. Bryan led him to his chair and showed him how he could adjust it to fit him since the chair was probably to tall for him. Avery blushed a little but said nothing about it. Bryan reviewed with him how to log in to the server and the IT policies on using company-issued equipment. Bryan also went over where the relevant programs were located; he would review the folder with all the notes on the development of this program. “If you need anything, come to find me over there,” Bryan pointed to his private office. “The other scientists and engineers should be coming around to introduce themselves to you today.” “Ok, sounds good… And thank you for this opportunity,” Avery said as Bryan returned to his office. On that first day, he met a few scientists and a few engineers. They all seemed friendly enough, even though Avery didn’t have much to say. He wanted to just focus on the task at hand. He felt he had something to prove. Avery had been dealt a tough hand; growing up in the foster care system meant that he was constantly met with obstacles and negative comments. He was told time and again what he couldn’t do, but instead of accepting those limitations as his fate, he used them as motivation. Everyone’s doubts about him only strengthened his desire to prove them all wrong. The rest of the day was slow. Avery needed help concentrating on the program he had been asked to look at. Quite frankly, it was dull, and after seeing all the other scientists and engineers doing much more exciting things, Avery was keen to do something that felt more meaningful. This need to do something drew him to the thick handbook about all the research involved with this program and more. He was fascinated with it. Avery brought the program to his apartment that night. He abstained from indulging in his usual nightly video game escapades. Instead, he spent hours poring over the computational intricacies of DNA's involvement in cancerous growths, absorbed in deciphering the energy states of cancer cells. The realization that this program was an amalgamation of these complex calculations completely captivated him, particularly as he examined how the drug had to be manipulated to match the energy state of the cancer cells so that it would interact effectively with them. It was nothing less than astounding. As he delved deeper into the notes, he discovered a vexing inconsistency in one of the mathematical formulas that disrupted the programming and prevented it from reaching a conclusion on what drug was needed for treatment. Avery closed the notebook for the night, satisfied he knew what he could start looking at and he was glad to be out of the pull-up for the day. As he lay in bed, his mind kept running through what he had read. His insomnia medication meant he wasn’t awake for long, but even in sleep, it felt like his brain was searching through everything he had learned the previous day. The morning came too quickly as his alarm went off. “Ugh, I hate mornings,” Avery muttered as he hit the snooze button repeatedly. The alarm kept ringing, and every time it did, Avery reached out a hand and hit the snooze button again. It was an almost instinctive reaction to the annoying noise. His brain wasn’t clicking into gear. All he knew was that he wanted more sleep. At one point, as the alarm went, Avery pawed at the snooze button yet again but only ended up knocking his phone off the bedside table. “Oh shit,” He said as he looked up at the clock. It was 7:30 a.m. He was supposed to be at work at 8:00 a.m. His alarm had been going on and off since 6:00 a.m. this morning. Avery quickly removed his boxers and slipped on new pull-ups, light gray tan dockers, and a maroon golf shirt. He quickly wet down his hair and combed it back, knowing it would still look like a mess when his hair dried. Avery quickly left to grab the bus to work at 7:30 a.m. and hopefully be at work at 8:00 am. It was a rush, and Avery didn’t feel particularly ready, but as he walked out of the front door into the early morning air. He didn’t know how anyone could be a “morning person” when he always felt… tired. That morning, when Avery got to work, the first thing he did was get a large cup of coffee. Afterward, he sat down at his desk and began to take a look at the code. The code wasn’t easy to follow. It didn’t follow too much of a logical path in his mind. Two hours later, John Taylor, the most Sr, Engineer on the project and project lead, stopped by his desk. John was a 45-year-old engineer with a commanding presence and an ego to match. He stood at an imposing 6'2" and had a burly build that spoke of years of physical labor. Despite his advancing age, his muscles were still firm, and his torso remained taut, reflecting an unwavering commitment to physical fitness. Avery thought John's walk exuded confidence, each step resonating with a deliberate thud. His posture was impeccable, with his chest puffed out and his chin held high. He had a square jaw and piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore through any obstacle in their way. This made Avery very anxious to be around him. He was very much the opposite of Avery, who was dressed in a pair of tan dockers and a collared maroon shirt That he had quickly thrown on minutes before leaving the house. If someone were to judge Avery. They would say he dressed not to cause a stir and just wanted to blend in. The differences between the timid Avery and John, who exuded machismo and confidence, couldn’t have been starker. John wore an expensive suit that hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his chiseled physique, a testament to his attention to detail and his love of the finer things in life. “Impressive work on one of my projects, huh?” John scowled as he snatched the notebook off his desk. “I wouldn't waste your time with all the irrelevant data scribbled in here. It'll do nothing but distract you.” He flicked it to the other side of his desk like an afterthought. Avery noticed John's hazel eyes were framed by creases that spoke to years of meticulous research studies and calculations. “I tried to get a grip on it, but honestly, I stumbled over the complex calculations necessary for developing designer drugs. Despite that, I was still captivated by the work yesterday." Avery sighed, not convinced of his own abilities to do this kind of research but determine to make a difference still. “Well, just weed out the bugs and get the program working. My team and I will take care of the rest.” Johns said with a condescending smile. “If you do that, you will do good here, kid!” “It’s just….” Avery started. He wanted to prove his knowledge by suggesting a change to the handbook. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.” John cut Avery off with ease. Avery felt a little put out by this overconfident man. He had been hired to be equal to all the other scientists, and yet John was acting like he was somebody hired to do data entry. He knew he could make the program run better and make the handbook better; he just needed John to listen to him. “I’m just thinking that if we…” Avery tried again. “If you have any suggestions, just write them down and slip them under my door,” John said as he started walking away without looking over his shoulder. The rest of the day went on without a hitch. A few people came by and tried to introduce themselves to him, but he kept the small talk to a minimum and just wanted to look over the program. Avery took a lot of notes that day. At the end of the day, he decided to retake the notebook home and leave the laptop at the office. He left the office at 4:30 p.m. to catch the bus at 5 p.m. If he missed the bus past 6 p.m., there wouldn't be another bus till morning. He was hungrier than normal because he skipped lunch all day to work on debugging the program. He stopped by a McDonald's and ordered a Big Mac. As he stood in line, he couldn't help but notice the Happy Meals on the counter, offering small Lego kits to children. It was a cruel marketing strategy to exploit parents and make them buy more Lego sets for their already spoiled kids. He knew this well, but it only reminded him of his own childhood, one filled with deprivation and lack of affection. He watched as the children played with their toys, ignoring the food in front of them - something he would have cherished as a child. But no, he was never allowed such frivolous things growing up; his foster parents made sure to remind him how unworthy he was of such luxuries. The memory brought back painful emotions that festered deep within him.

Anna and Ryan are living life as best they can when blackballed from society. Things take an unexpected turn when there is a knock at the door. --- I'm only able to write as much as I do thanks to the amazing support of my readers. Writing is my only income and I appreciate everyone who reads my stories more than you all can imagine. If you enjoy my stories and want to see updates a week before everyone else PLUS read 35+ stories only available on my membership sites please have a look at the links below. All support is very gratefully accepted ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- A quick recap of the first story for anyone who needs it: Anna was left stranded in Sallas after her parents were killed in a car crash. Sallas is a place of extreme misogyny, that treats women as little more than babies and servants. Anna was adopted to a Sallasian couple and forced to grow up in this society, but she has always hated it and is desperate to escape. Forcibly married to Ryan, Anna's future seemed decidedly unpleasant as she joined him at college, not to attend classes, but as his trophy wife. That all changed when Ryan revealed that he hates Sallas as much as she does, and that he doesn't want to treat her badly. They tried to navigate college together, living as equally as they could at home whilst subjected to the extreme pressures to conform. Anna meets a friend, Jane, who is in a much worse marriage than her. Anna desperately wants to help Jane, but her options are severely limited. When Jane's husband gets tired of her, he has her sent away to Finishing School, something which devastates Anna who knows she will never see her friend again. Eventually it proved too much. Ryan was forced to choose between sending Anna to "Finishing School" (little more than a torturous prison) or being expelled from college and giving up his dreams of working in business. Ryan chose Anna. The two left college together with little idea as to where their lives will go... --- Sallas 2: The Gilded Cage By Elfy Anna was strapped to a pink plastic chair. Between her lips was a pacifier so large it filled her mouth and a strap going around her head held it firmly in place. She had the thickest diaper she had ever seen around her waist and the pink baby dress did nothing to hide it. Around her were a dozen other women similarly stuck in place and similarly dressed. She struggled but found movement difficult with such a huge amount of thickness between her legs. The room was filled with the muffled sounds of struggle and the smell of used diapers. Anna recoiled when she looked around at her neighbours before realising, she looked just as bad as they did it. Projected on to a screen in front of them all was a video. It was like a business training video but was showing the women in the playpen what they were supposed to be. A film of women doing domestic chores, shopping and being properly respectful of the men around them, In between frames Anna occasionally noticed a flash of a word, but she could never quite make out what it said. Made to look like a nursery the room felt like a strange bastardisation of a place that you would send your child. This nursery looked exactly like a child’s daycare at first look, but the longer you spent in there the more you noticed its true reason to exist. The uniformed guards by the doors, the cameras in each corner of the room, the books not being classic nursery rhymes but instruction manuals on how to do chores… Anna pulled harder against the restraints. As she stared at the video playing in front of her, she tried to remember how long she had been there. It felt like forever. Time had lost all meaning. Maybe she had simply always been there. Anna’s head lulled forwards slightly but the endlessly repeating images continued to appear in her mind. She tried to force them away, but they had a hold of her, they seemed to grab her head like tentacles as they pulled themselves closer and spread like a cancer. Her resistance became weaker as the words flashing up in the film became clearer. “Baby.” “Maid.” “Useless.” “Need Man.” Inside her head the last vestiges of who she once had been screamed but like water rushing through a cracked dam the words spread. Anna felt herself losing control of her bladder as if she had never been potty trained. The warmth spreading through her padding as the words cycled endlessly in her brain. All around her Anna could see the previously squirming women sitting docile as the guards walked up to each one with an injection. “No…” Anna mumbled around the pacifier. Suddenly it wasn’t a guard holding the needle. Anna turned and saw Jane standing before her in one of the guard uniforms, it bulged out around her waist from the hefty diaper underneath. Anna’s old friend stared at her with dead eyes and a flat emotionless face. “You left me…” Jane said as the needle was moved towards her arm, “You could’ve saved me.” Anna shook her head. The words were seeping in and her resistance crumbled completely. As the needle went into her arm and Jane pressed the plunger Anna screamed hopelessly. “Anna!” Anna was being shaken, and she sat up so fast she nearly butted heads with Ryan. She could feel that she was covered with sweat and was breathing hard. She instinctively grabbed her arm where the needle had been, there was nothing there. She took a few deep breaths and felt a familiar shameful wetness between her legs. “The nightmare again?” Ryan asked as she placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Anna nodded before letting out a sob. Ryan pulled her closer to his shoulder as she cried softly. It had been a recurring nightmare for a while now. No matter how many times she ended up in that “Finishing School” it never felt any less real. It was stupid, she didn’t even know what the inside of one of those institutions actually looked like, her brain was just filling in the blanks with every horror it could conceive of. She felt Ryan pulling the cover back and revealing the wet patch on the bed. Anna had wet herself. “It’s OK.” Ryan whispered in Anna’s ear, “You’re safe.” “I’m sorry.” Anna said as she pulled away and wiped her eyes. “You don’t have to apologise.” Ryan replied, “You’re fine.” “I mean, I’m sorry for…” Anna gestured down to the wet patch. “Don’t worry about it.” Ryan smiled sleepily, “Why don’t you get cleaned up? I’ll change the sheets.” Anna slipped out of bed. She was naked as she stood up and the floorboard underneath her feet creaked loudly. The space between the bed and the wall was cramped meaning she had to awkwardly sidle out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards the bathroom. The apartment was small, old and, despite Anna’s best efforts, falling apart. The wallpaper Anna walked past was peeling, one of the windows was boarded up and she had to step around crack in the floor that seemed to threaten to fall through at the slightest hint of weight. In the bathroom Anna pulled on a long string that was hanging from the ceiling, the lightbulb flickered to life. The water heater for the building was broken so the water in the shower never warmed up. Anna shivered as she stepped under the showerhead. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible so she quickly soaped herself up and rinsed herself off. She couldn’t shake the image of Jane from her head. Not long before Anna and Ryan had made their quick exit from the college Ryan had been attending, Jane had experienced an altogether less voluntary withdrawal. The closest person to a friend Anna had ever had, Jane had displeased her husband who had promptly sent her away to Finishing School. Anna had no idea what had happened to her but could guess it wasn’t good. People who went into those places were often not seen again, and those that re-appeared were unrecognisable to their old selves, and to their families. It had been ten months since they had moved into the apartment building. It had been the cheapest place that Ryan and Anna could find and even then was at the upper limit of what they could afford. After they left the college in disgrace, they knew they were going to be outcasts but perhaps they had underestimated just how bad things could be. Ryan had immediately started looking for work, but he had been blacklisted from even most menial jobs, even a cursory background search on him would’ve found black marks that made employers run away, things like “Dissident” and “Suspicious Individual.” All because he’d had the gall to not want to treat Anna like a second-class citizen. Things had become desperate before Ryan found a job in a call centre; it was the only place that would give him a chance. The money he was paid was only just enough to afford rent and bills, even food had become a bit of an extravagance. Despite the difficulties Ryan and Anna had remained close. In fact, they may have become closer than ever before in spite of the hardships they faced. The problem was that love can only get a person so far, the truth was they were desperately struggling with no support network and in a place with no safety net. There was no sign that things would get better either as both of their families had been quick to disown them. The worst part for Anna was the way Ryan was very clearly being crushed. His spirit and soul seemed to be ebbing away and every time he came home from work, he would look that bit more miserable. Anna found herself wondering if it hadn’t all been a terrible mistake, she sometimes wondered if Ryan resented her and wished he had chosen differently. After all, this was all because of her. If Ryan had sent her away, he would be an executive on his way to the top rather than stuck at the bottom living in a cold flat and eating the cheapest food. “Damn it.” Anna muttered as shivered into her towel after her shower. The nightmares were awful and happened twice a week or so. She had never been to the dreaded Finishing School so her mind was conjuring up something that may not even have existed. The worst part for Anna was the effect it had on her bladder. Having been potty trained so recently she usually didn’t have too many problems as long as a toilet was nearby, but wetting the bed was a common result of her bad dreams. Ryan hadn’t brought up wearing “protection” to bed, but she knew he must be thinking about it, they couldn’t exactly afford to replace their mattress. Diapers were something she was only too used to, having only recently been able to get out of them she dreaded having to go back for any reason whatsoever. Anna knew she wasn’t going to get any more sleep. She slipped on her dressing gown and walked through to the living room. The flat was a lot smaller than the place they had stayed in at college and the living room was the best example of this lack of space. An old television was against the far wall, a wooden table with a bent leg in the middle of the room and just beyond that a couch that had numerous holes in it. Anna sat on the couch and flicked on the television. The morning news was on. The problem with the news in Sallas was that it was nearly impossible to tell what was real or fake, the propaganda was so rife that seeing through it became very difficult. The presenter was excitedly telling his audience about Sallas’s economy doing well and suggesting it was because there weren’t any “distractions” in the workforce. “Distractions” was clearly a code word for women as they showed short clips from various office and factories extolling the virtues of their society. Anna could only roll her eyes. It was all so transparent, she found it hard to believe anyone fell for their crap. In any other country Anna would be in one of those offices or laboratories. She knew she was smart but at no point had any of that intelligence been nurtured, she had never been given the opportunity to show what she could do. She never would get that chance either, not whilst she was where she was, when she was who she was. She tried not to dwell on her lost potential, but it was difficult. Anna went over to the drawers in the corner and retrieved a tattered old book. She brought it back to the couch and opened the frayed cover. There she looked at herself from long ago, back before her parents had died, leaving her stranded in the hell that was Sallas. She thought she looked a lot like her mother, but she had her father’s eyes for sure. Her photo album of her as a baby was practically all that had survived the car crash that had killed her parents. She remembered so little about them. “… And finally, a reminder of this morning’s big story.” The newscaster said as Anna turned the page, “A number of civil disruptions around the country last night forced the police to crackdown on some undesirables and dissenters. A spokesman for the government said the ringleaders had been rounded up and that there is no cause for alarm.” Anna changed the channel. There was a morning talk show on one of the more rabidly pro-government channels. A man was practically frothing at the mouth as he ranted and raved that women were still too free. Anna shook her head, to some men in Sallas the very idea that a woman might have an independent thought was enough to send them into an apoplectic rage. “… I’m telling you they will be the downfall of us all!” The balding pudgy man said. His spit flew across the table as he angrily dropped his fist against the surface. “Whilst I agree any idea of, pardon my language, feminism, is abhorrent to our society I’m not sure what you would like the government to do…” A more professional looking man replied. His suit was wrinkle-free, and he didn’t have a single hair out of place. The so-called “moderate.” “For a start we could make Finishing School mandatory.” The angry man replied, “Get these girls out of the school system and teach what they really need to know early. Stamp out these ridi-” Anna changed the channel. Whilst she was used to hearing men attacking women for every ill in society the ideas being expressed on that show were just too horrifying to think about. Finishing School was essentially a prison designed to brainwash women into being good little girls, it was currently used as punishment for women that didn’t conform perfectly, the idea of sending all females there made Anna shudder. The next channel was for children. To be more accurate it was for little boys. Anna watched as two puppets talked to a group of little boys sitting in front of them. “And a girl, even an itty-bitty little girl the same age as you…” The puppet dog’s paw pointed at the children in front of him. He had a deep authoritative voice and was the face of one of the most popular children’s brands in Sallas, “Can be a very a dangerous thing.” “But how can an itty-bitty little girl be dangerous?” The second puppet seemed modelled on a mouse. He spoke with a back-country twang to his voice that Anna supposed was to make him sound less intelligent. “Because they are naughty.” The dog puppet replied seriously, “They are always looking for ways to get boys in trouble. It’s why it’s important for all you little boys to…” “Report bad behaviour!” The children all chorused. “That’s right!” The puppet dog nodded, “To your Daddies, teachers, or local govern-…” Anna turned the television off. She laid down on the cushions of the couch with her head resting against the arm. She hadn’t planned to drift off but suddenly came to when she heard Ryan’s footsteps coming down the hallway. He paused at the entrance to the living room for a second before heading into the kitchen. The sun was just starting to rise giving the sky outside a red glow. Anna sat up and stretched as Ryan came walking back in with two mugs of coffee. “I’ve got some eggs and bacon cooking.” Ryan said as he put the mugs down on the table. “Shouldn’t you be watching it?” Anna asked as she yawned, “You could start a fire.” “In this place?” Ryan shrugged, “Could be an improvement.” Anna laughed as she picked up her drink. It tasted cheap, which of course it was. Unlike when they were supported by Ryan’s parents, they couldn’t afford to spend much on luxuries. The cheapest store-brand instant coffee was still pushing the boat out for them. Soon they were sitting in the living room eating their breakfast. They didn’t really have a lot to talk about, but Anna was happy in the silence. If anything was brought up, she felt sure it would be her nightmare and what had happened as a result of it. The silence was much better than that particular conversation. “I suppose I should get ready.” Ryan sighed as he stood up. Anna did the washing up whilst Ryan had a quick shower and then got dressed in his suit. He came into the kitchen where the married couple shared a little kiss before he broke away with a smile, his hand came up and cupped Anna’s cheek. They had been getting a little more intimate since leaving college, they certainly hadn’t jumped straight into bed with one another, but they were becoming more romantic over time. It was just hard for Anna to let herself get carried away, part of her was still waiting for the penny to drop and for Ryan to send her away so he could get on with a much better life than the one he had with her. It was nonsense, of course, Ryan had been given plenty of opportunities to give Anna up and had never done so. “I’ll try to be back as soon as I can.” Ryan said, “Do we need anything for dinner?” “I think we’re alright for tonight.” Anna replied. It was slightly ironic that Anna and Ryan had been ostracised from society because of their resistance to Sallas’s extreme gender roles because now, in some small ways, they found themselves conforming to them. Whilst Ryan worked Anna looked after the home which meant doing most of the cooking and cleaning. It only seemed fair that she help out since Ryan had to work so much, and as difficult as it was for Ryan to find his job, it would’ve been impossible for Anna. “I’ll see you later.” Ryan sighed and tried to put on a brave smile. “Have a good day.” Anna replied. “You too.” Ryan’s smile was a bit more genuine now. Just as Ryan was turning to head to the front door there was a loud knock followed by the ringing of a doorbell. Ryan froze in his tracks. Anna hurried forwards and peered around the doorframe as if expecting to see something other than the front door. There were many reasons for Ryan and Anna to be nervous. They kept to themselves, not many people would associate with people that had been labelled as undesirables and those that would weren’t people Anna wanted to know. Neither of them had made any friends of acquaintances in the area so the fact there was someone at the door filled them both with dread. “Did you pay the rent?” Anna whispered to Ryan. “We’re only one month behind…” Ryan muttered in reply, “Jean doesn’t normally start knocking unless it’s three months.” “Then who is it?” Anna hissed. Ryan shrugged at her and then they both turned to the door. There were more bangs and insistent rings of the bell. Whoever it was, they were fairly insistent that they were going to be coming in sooner rather than later. “W-Who is it?” Ryan called from the safety of the kitchen doorway. “Open the door, Mr. Manning.” A deep voice replied. “Not unless you tell me what you want.” Ryan called back. “How about you open the door before we get impatient.” The voice replied. Anna tried to hold Ryan back as he went to step forwards. He turned to face her and shrugged, he was right, there was nowhere for them to run or hide. They didn’t know who was at the door, but it seemed like they were going to come in one way or another. Anna followed Ryan out but stayed several steps behind. Ryan opened the door, and Anna could see two men in suits on the other side. They pushed past Ryan and walked in as if they owned the place. Anna didn’t like the way they looked at her and smiled. Ryan closed the door as the two walked into the living room. Anna was tensed up, she didn’t know why these people were there, but she was ready to fight for her life if she needed to. “You see, Jimmy, didn’t I tell you she was beautiful.” The man doing the talking had snow white hair. His small nose seemed almost swallowed by his glasses that did little to hide a pair of very piercing eyes. “That you did.” Replied the younger of the two men. He was chewing gum and was leering at Anna. “Who are you?” Ryan asked. “Jimmy.” The older man said with a dismissive wave, “But you can call me Mr. Sawyer.” Anna watched as the intruder present a piece of paper to Ryan. As he did so the older man sat down on the couch. He waited a few seconds whilst Ryan looked over the paper, in the meantime the younger man walked over to Jimmy, who Anna suspected was his boss, and stood next to him. The whole time Ryan was reading neither of the intruders took their eyes off Anna. “I don’t think I understand…” Ryan finally said as he looked up with a frown, “What is this?” “That.” Mr. Sawyer said without turning from Anna, “Is a contract.” --- If you want to see what happens next RIGHT NOW you can do so at one of the following links. Thank you, and all support is very gratefully received: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/mf967rdsf7db10/chapter/mfjaqi124bff3c1 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2066849

Hey there, readers! This is... kinda awkward, but it happened again. A new idea for a cute story popped into my head and, well... here's the beginning of a new story! I hope that you enjoy it! Back to Basics (Part 1) by Panther Cub "Alright, Ma'am, I'm gunna need you to pull over into the inspection lane." The tuxedo cat looked down at the jackrabbit lady, the sunlight reflecting off his aviator sunglasses, his mouth a hard frown as he pointed at the lane he had just instructed her to drive towards. She looked up at him from inside her small brown car, a look of confusion on her face. "Please don't start with me this early in the morning," the tuxedo cat mumbled under his breath as she opened her mouth to speak. "Is this some kind of a joke?" The jackrabbit lady didn't even try to keep the giggle from her voice. Tristan hated the fact that he could feel his black and white cheeks starting to blush. From where he sat perched on his special work stool, Tristan bit back a growl and simply frowned deeper, making sure to speak authoritatively. He could feel the snow white feathers on his wings starting to fluff up a bit. "Ma'am, you need to pull over into the inspection lane right now. I won't ask a third time." His paw was already settled onto his radio. "Are you playing inspection officer, cutiepie?" She cooed up at him. The cat felt his blush deepen and his tail began to swish faster in his aggravation. The fact that he could hear a faint crinkling as it did so didn't help. "Charlie 54 Delta, code 11." The jackrabbit looked away from the kitten sitting in what was very clearly a highchair painted black to match his cute little uniform, to see several officers dressed similarly approaching. A large brown and white spotted female owl took up position in the booth right next to Tristan and looked the driver dead in the eyes with a hardness to her own steely gray ones. "Driver! Pull into the designated inspection lane now. This is your final warning!" Lieutenant Haelga was not one to mess around, and the jackrabbit lady immediately knew it. "Wait... am I in trouble?" "He, like every other inspection officer here, radios in a Code 11 when a driver is not complying and driving into the inspection lane after being instructed to do so. Failure to comply can lead to detainment in addition to the inspection of your vehicle as well as count as resisting arrest if you continue to fail to comply." "Now wait just one second... you mean that that... baby is actually working here?! That can't be legal!" Tristan rolled his eyes at that, feeling some satisfaction as the lady was then asked to step out of the vehicle by Officer Skyson. While a bit on the portly side, the vulture was still very intimidating when he wanted to be, like when the jackrabbit lady started to object to her being detained, until he gave her his patented glare. Another officer climbed into the car and drove it away from the booth and into the inspection lane. "Y'know, Tristan," Haelga said with a smirk as she looked down at the kitten, "it really impresses me how much you're able to not lose your cool when these drivers pull this crap." Tristan smiled, feeling his blush fade a bit as he sat up a little straighter in his work stool that was totally not a high chair at some point. "Thanks, boss!" "And remember to call in if you need a quick change." His ears splayed flat at that while his blush returned in full force. "Understood, Lieutenant..." "Oh! And one more thing!" Haelga turned just as she was about to shimmy out of the booth, smiling down at her protege. "Yeah?" "I'm putting you in charge of helping to train the new gal when she starts next week." Tristan had sat in on the interview and gotten to ask a few questions. The new hire's name was Mia, and she was also a tuxedo cat, though she didn't have wings like he did. Also, she wasn't trapped in the body of a two-year-old. Well, to be fair it was more like the body of a one and three-quarter-year-old, but Tristan preferred to round up. He liked how she had been professional and not immediately fawned over him the moment she saw him, like so many applicants had already. That or just ignored him and his questions. He suspected that that was partly why he was selected to help with the interview process, to help weed out some of the less-professional ones. Overall, Mia's qualifications were just fine and she answered all of their questions professionally and succinctly. If he recalled correctly, she was twenty-eight, nine years younger than himself. "I won't let you down, Boss!" He said, resuming his duties as another car pulled in next to his booth. "Good morning sir." "... Is this some kind of a joke?" Tristan sighed and looked at the alpaca in the business suit just staring right at him with a slack-jawed expression. "Sir... I'm gunna need you to pull into the inspection lane up on the right here." * * * Tristan sighed as he watched the forested landscape pass by. Seeing the ever burbling creek going under the little bridge the car quickly passed over always made the kitten smile. But today he just wasn't feeling it. It wasn't a long drive home from work, but when you have to carpool because legally you can't drive anymore... and you have to sit in the back in a car seat, it can make the trip feel like it takes a bit longer than it should. "You line up a ride for next week?" Frank asked from the driver's seat. The gruff old bull looked at the winged kitten in the rearview mirror. "Yeah. I'll be carpooling with the new hire. She already agreed to it, and said that since she lives close by to where I live, it won't be an inconvenience to her." "Good..." Despite sharing a ride to and from work with one another for the last six months, Tristan still found talking with his older coworker to be very awkward. "Yeah... so this is really it then?" Tristan asked as they passed by into the town outskirts, a few houses dotting the now grassy and hilly landscape the forest gave way to. "Yup. Been looking forward to retirement for awhile now." Frank cracked a smile as he came to an intersection and took a left, driving past the bar and grill. The local grocery store flew past next, followed by the elementary school shortly after. Seeing the old school brought back some fond memories to the kitten. A few more turns later, and Frank was pulled up right in front of Tristan's house. It was a simple ranch-style layout. He winced as he took note, yet again, of how badly the old white house was in desperate need of a new paint job. The black and white kitten had to wait for the bull to get out and come around to the backseat door Tristan was looking out of. Opening said door and using his hoof fingers, Frank pressed the big red button in the center of the five point safety harness that was keeping Tristan safe and sound in his carseat. The diminutive feline hopped down and grabbed the bright blue and red child's backpack he used to carry around his lunch and other stuff for work inside, watching as the bull grunted and snorted in frustration, trying to get the carseat all disconnected from how it had been installed. Finally, it came free, and Frank carried it over to the front door, setting it down. He walked back to the car and shut the backseat door, ruffling Tristan's headfur as he did so. "It's been fun, kiddo. Good night." Tristan frowned and batted away at the hoof, giving Frank a sour look. "I'm not a kid... but thank you Frank for the help. Good night, and... goodbye, I guess." Frank smiled and got back inside his bright white car, driving off. The late afternoon light reflecting in the rearview mirror. Tristan walked towards the house, looking left and right, hoping none of his nosy neighbors would bug him today. He knew that they meant well, like old Mrs. Dorrington. "Last thing I need is for someone to call CPS over here again," he muttered under his breath as he fished out his keys from his pocket. He had to reach up a little to get the deadbolt, but after that and the doorknob, and a bit of a shove, he was inside. "Home sweet home." Tristan sighed as he grabbed his carseat and dragged it through the door, which he then shut and locked. Glad that it was the weekend, he undid his tie and unbuttoned his uniform shirt. They were casually tossed aside, along with his pants. Walking by the full-length hallway mirror, he saw a little black and white kitten with stark white wings, wearing a swollen white diaper with green trim. It was after he saw his reflection that Tristan realized he was waddling more. He let out another sigh as his waddling continued on into the bathroom. He looked at the pack of Snuggies and saw he was already halfway through it. He made a mental note to walk on down to the grocery store in the next couple of days to restock. Looking at the other changing supplies and the changing mat laid out on the tile, he briefly reflected on how, thanks to his new height, he had to move everything to a reachable surface, or even just put things on the ground. The exception to this would be his stool in the kitchen. Stripping off his used diaper and balling it up to toss into the awaiting trash pail, Tristan opened his shower door and stepped inside. Dinner that night was a can of Pasta-O's, heated up in the microwave, with a box of juice on the side. As Tristan parked his padded bottom, that may or may not have required some additional adjusting of the tapes in the mirror in the hallway after he had powdered and diapered himself once he had dried himself off; in the old armchair, having to climb up onto it, he carefully pulled the nearby tv tray closer. He tucked a paper towel into his shirt, and scooped out a spoonful. Grimacing at the bland tomato soupy flavor and the chewy and mushy pasta, he reflected on how good a steak, done at medium rare, or some burger patties cooked on his grill tasted. He then frowned and huffed, that having been the first reason a neighbor called CPS after his transformation. Sighing, he started flipping through channels, stopping on some kind of documentary about the new wave popularity of that old boy band Small to Big, rebranded after they got a similar change to Tristan. He let out a growl and quickly changed the channel. "Stupid Regressus Inc. and they're stupid rejuvenation formula... and stupid me for taking that crap." His ears splayed flat on his head as he remembered how excited he'd been when he'd found out that there was an actual legit drug out there that could reverse the aging process. Doing some research, he learned that people could pick their ideal ages and then age regularly again. Tristan had spent almost all of his twenties, his physical prime, taking care of his sick parents. He spotted a picture from back when he was around this age the first time, coincidentally wearing the exact same shirt he was now, being held by his Mom and Dad. She had been a tuxedo cat like himself. His father, being a bald eagle, was where he'd gotten his wings from. Though he suspected it was Mom's fur coloration that caused them to be white. He smiled at the happy family in the photo, trying not to think about how first his father had been the one to get the Big C... and then his mother. They had both insisted that he finish school and get his degree, which he thankfully did. But after graduation, the roles had reversed, and he had started taking care of them. The few friends he had made in college all lived out of town, and he slowly lost touch with them... including Caroline. The sweet tigress had gotten her degree in marine biology and couldn't wait to get out on the ocean. They'd... no, he wasn't going to think about that, and he certainly wasn't going to cry about it. They had made their choices, and even though it had taken a decade when all was said and done, and left him practically penniless, at least before he managed to get a job at the checkpoint. But still, could he really be blamed for wanting to just reclaim that section of his life back? To get to actually be in his twenties? Looking down at the Snuggies with the happy diapered chibi baby lion smiling up at him, he felt that apparently some aspect of fate felt so. As it turned out, there was a small percentage of the population, about 7% overall, who were allergic to the Rejuvenation formula. Rather than get tested, Tristan figured the odds were in his favor. And for a month, it had seemed like they were. Minutes after taking the formula, which turned out to be a spray you inhaled, he had felt a tingling sensation spread out from his face to all over his body. After a few minutes, his clothes felt a little looser, and looking in the mirror, he saw a face he hadn't seen in too long. He'd tried going out to some clubs in the city, which had been... ok, at least in his book. He'd gone down to the coast to try wind-surfing, which had been pretty fun, but wasn't really his thing. He'd tried taking up a bunch of different hobbies, ranging from woodworking to beekeeping, but, aside from a slight pain in his back now being gone, he more or less felt the same. Still, though, he was younger and now had more time to think about what he wanted to do with his life. Then came the morning he'd woken up after having a terrible dream. It was something about being in a neverending daycare, but it was all dusty and covered in cobwebs and empty. The more he'd walked through it, the more he felt a tingling in his whole body, just like when he took the formula. When he awoke, he learned two things. The first, was that he'd shrunk to the size of a toddler, which was right around when he tried getting out of bed and fell on the floor. He bumped his head in doing so, and couldn't stop crying for a good few minutes. The second thing he had learned shortly after was that he seemed to have lost his potty training. That made him bawl outright. It had taken some time, some doctor visits, some proving he knew who he was, knew what year it was, and that he was still mentally an adult, and some thinking on his superiors' superiors part before he'd been allowed to continue working. It was after the first couple of months after his change, when he noticed something odd when he would measure himself with an old yardstick he had found. Not only was he not gaining any new height, he seemed to be shrinking still. Terrified that this meant he'd be transformed into a newborn or something, he had gone to his doctor. After another round of tests, it was determined that while Tristan was shrinking, that was simply because the formula was only finally almost finished. Physically, he'd been hoping to be around the age of three. Instead, his doctor placed him as being just under two. Tristan finished off his Pasta-O's and drank his juice, grape, his favorite, and continued watching TV until he started getting sleepy. He huffed when he saw that it was only 7:37, but knew that his much smaller body would just be getting more tired. He switched off the tv, grabbed his bowl and juice box, and hopped down to the floor. Walking into his kitchen, he used the stool to put the dishes in the sink and run a little water in them. He put his juice box and paper towel into the trash, huffing in frustration when he saw that there were some red splotches on it. Feeling around his mouth and chin confirmed that he'd dribble... again, and so wet another paper towl to clean around his mouth and chin. He then brushed his teeth, checked to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, checked his diaper to find it only a little damp, and then made his way into his bedroom. There, his mattress lay right on the floor, sheets and blankets strewn about on it. Falling out and bumping his head had become a bit of a problem, and this had been his solution. Climbing in, he curled up under the blankets, remembering how his Dad had loved to read him stories when he was this little for bedtime, and how Mom always tucked him in. He let out a little whimper as he listened to his silent and empty house, and started to drift off to sleep. The next day... "Let's see... I'm feeling like... OH! Your Mom's orange chicken recipe!" Mia purred while pushing the cart through the aisles while talking on her phone. The panthress would stop and grab something off the bright yellow list her wife had written. She rounded the corner, and stopped. She spotted a cute little kitten with dark black fur like her own, with a splash of white on his muzzle and chin that matched the color of his wings. He was wearing a pair of denim shortalls over a red shirt. She wondered where his parents were, looking around to spot who might be accompanying the little boy. Then she saw him start climbing the shelves, clearly going for the Cocoa Bombs at the top. "Woah there!" She said, walking up and plucking him off the shelves, turning him around to face her. "That was too dangerous, little guy! You could have fallen and gotten hurt." She said this in a gentle yet firm voice, seeing his ears droop and a blush form on his cheeks. "Mia?" He squeaked out in embarrassment. It was right then that the panthress realized where she recognized this specific kitten from and set him right down. "M-Mr. Granna?" Now it was Mia's turn to blush, practically matching his own, despite her dark fur. "I am so sorry! I didn't know that it was you!" Tristan held up a paw. "It's alright, it was an honest mistake. And please, call me Tristan." Internally he cringed at how her light scolding had made him feel ashamed for what he'd been caught doing. "And... maybe it was a bit... ill advised of me to try and scale the shelves there. I guess I could have gotten an employee to help me get down the Cocoa Bombs." Mia had to choke back a coo at how adorable Tristan was when she first met him in the interview. She had heard of some people having an allergic reaction to the Rejuvenation formula, and thankfully his condition had been explained right before she had entered the room the interview was conducted in, but still. He was a little kitten with wings. She just wanted to pick him up and cuddle him nonstop right then and there! And now, here he was, looking guilty and chastened and just served to enhance his natural adorableness. "Well, since I'm already right here," Mia said, easily grabbing the box of cereal with the chocolate bat advertising the chocolate balls filled with marshmallow goodness. She handed it to him and her heart practically melted at the look of excitement on his face as he took it from her, practically hugging the box before he set it in a nearby shopping basket. Looking inside, she could see several cans of Pasta-O's, some packages of juice boxes,a jar of extra chunky peanut butter, and a loaf of bread. Thanking her for her help, Tristan started to push the basket down the aisle, leading Mia to suspect that he couldn't carry it. "Wait, Tristan!" She walked over to him, smiling as he looked up at her with those big blue eyes of his. She reigned herself back in, remembering that he had the mind of an adult, just in a toddler's body. "Yeah?" "That... looks like a lot for you to try and carry, and pushing it around seems like it'll take forever." "Okay? It's not like I've got much choice. I can't push a cart around." Tristan began to suspect what Mia was getting at. "How about I help? We can put your things on the left side of the cart, and I can grab anything else off the high shelves for you?" Mia was worried that maybe she'd overstepped. Tristan mulled it over for a bit. "Well... okay, I guess that could work... but I am NOT riding around in the baby seat!" He crossed his arms at that, trying to look stern. Mia again almost cooed at the kitten before her. "Deal!" She then bent down and grabbed his basket, gently putting his items on the left inside her own cart, and scooting a few things over to the right. Walking side by side, they continued shopping, with Mia getting looks at the items on Tristan's list. She couldn't help but notice that a lot of his food seemed to be meals already made or in cans. "Oh my goodness," an elderly female coyote said with a happy smile. "Your little one is just so sweet and well-behaved! You must be so proud!" Tristan had to fight the urge to correct this lady and inform her that he is indeed an adult, just one that was regressed, and most certainly not Mia's child. "Uh... thank you so much!" Mia was polite and blushed a little, looking down at Tristan and shooting him a pleading look. He just sighed and waved his paw dismissively. When the old lady was out of earshot did they resume speaking. "Sorry about that, Tristan." "It's okay... better than someone picking me up and carrying me to the manager to report a lost child... again..." "Do things like that happen often?" Tristan blushed. "Yeah... I mean, I know that they mean well, but it really stinks regardless." They rounded a corner, and Tristan's blush deepened. It was the baby care aisle. At first, Mia didn't get why he looked so embarrassed, until; it clicked for her just where in the store they were. "O-oh! We can just go around another aisle..." "Can't... I... kinda need to get some things here." Tristan kept his voice even as he walked past a row of bibs and a row of pacifiers. Mia followed behind, watching the kitten slow down in the diaper section. He looked through all the different packages before grabbing a big red Snuggies pack. His cheeks now almost crimson, he avoided looking at the larger feline, and set it on the little shelf under the cart. This was followed by a tub of wipes and a canister of baby powder. "Okay, I'm done here," he said, starting to walk off. Mia followed behind. just wanting to pick him up and hug him and let the downtrodden kitten know that everything was going to be okay. As they walked to the register area, Mia felt a need to cut through the sudden tension. "Y'know, I love cooking. Maybe Sally and I can have you over some time for a nice home cooked meal." "Uh... that sounds nice," Tristan said, trying to sound polite. They reach the checkout in silence, apart from another nice older lady, this one a mouse, again complimenting Mia for how well-behaved Tristan was. Mia started setting Tristan's items onto the belt first, followed by her own. Despite knowing better, Mia felt guilty about letting Tristan pay for his groceries. She smiled as the teenaged border collie smiled and handed him the bags, until he started to struggle, and then took the heavier things and set them back in Mia's cart. Tristan wanted to object, but elected not to, blushing in silence instead. With Mia's items paid for and bagged, the two exited the store. "Did you get a ride over here?" Mia asked, looking at Tristan expectantly. "Oh... uh... no. Fuber doesn't have many drivers out here, and only one of them has a carseat." Tristan began to rub the back of his head, something Mia was beginning to guess was a tell for when he was feeling a bit uncomfortable. "Wait... you walked all the way here?" Mia asked, suddenly terrified at the thought of the little kitten all by himself, where anything could happen. "How are you gunna carry all your groceries home?" "I brought something to help." Tristan pointed over to one of the decorative trees in front of the store. There, secured with a bike chain, was a little red wagon with a handle. "Tristan, please can I just drive you and your groceries home? It'll be much faster." Mia offered, hoping he would say yes. "That's real nice, Mia... but the law says that I have to ride in a car seat, and we haven't installed mine yet..." The panthress perked up at that. "Oh! But I have one installed already! Me and Sally watch our niece all the time!" The panthress' smile was so bright that Tristan couldn't bring himself to say something that might make it fade. "Uh... w-well, I guess if it isn't an inconvenience..." "Great!" Mia waited for Tristan to unlock and grab his wagon before the two walked in the direction of a powder blue minivan. Unlocking it, Mia slid the door open to reveal a bright pink car seat that Tristan rolled his eyes at. "She loves that unicorn princess cartoon!" Mia chuckled. She smiled as she picked Tristan up under his arms and gently set him in the soft cushiony seat. She hummed while securing the five point harness and gave a test tug, making sure that Tristan was nice and secure. This was followed by Mia going to the trunk and loading up the groceries and Tristan's little wagon before putting the cart in the cart corral, and then getting into the driver's seat. "Okay, Tristan, ready to give me directions?" Mia's voice took on a slightly cutesy tone that Tristan chose to ignore. "Yup." With the engine fired up and Mia pulling out, Tristan started directing her to his home. Mia looked at the ranch-style house and frowned a little. She saw that the paint was peeling and cracked, and the front yard's lawn looked very shaggy. Helping Tristan out and grabbing his groceries and wagon, she followed the kitten up to the front door, which he had to shove after unlocking it. The first thing she noticed after being invited inside was how the light socket in the ceiling just inside the door was missing a bulb. She spotted his uniform clothes strewn on the floor, and could see some dust had started to build up on some surfaces. "Uhm... I know that the place is a little bit of a mess..." "Your house is lovely," Mia said with a cheerful smile. She grabbed some bags and walked down the hall, looking into the first open door on her right. She looked inside the bathroom and instantly spotted the changing mat and supplies on the floor. Her heart started to hurt at the realization that Tristan was truly living alone. "Do you... have any family?" "No..." Tristan didn't mean for it to sound curt, but he walked past Mia with some grocery bags in his paws. He headed towards the kitchen, and Mia spotted the open door to his bedroom, seeing the mattress on the floor. Mia helped Tristan to put away the groceries, letting him take his diapers into the bathroom himself. Sighing, Mia smiled at him when he came right back out. "You know, I'm planning on making some homemade orange chicken for me and Sally tonight..." She noticed how Tristan's ears perked up at that, but he frowned and shook his head. "Thanks, but I've got dinner planned for tonight..." "Maybe I could bring some over later?" Mia offered, looking down at him hopefully. Tristan felt conflicted, but the idea of orange chicken sounded so good. It had been so long. "Well... okay... if you really don't mind." "It'll be my pleasure!" Mia felt her heart warm knowing that the kitten she was looking at wasn't going to be eating only Pasta-O's tonight. With a goodbye, and double-checking that he was okay by himself, Mia left, closing the door behind her. On her way to the car she immediately dialed up her wife. "Sally, hun? I just ran into my new coworker, the one who's gunna train me." "That nice older badger?" Sally's voice asked. "No, the little cutie!" "OH! The little kitten with the mind of an adult?" "Yes! The poor little guy lives all alone!" "Wait... no one's helping him take care of himself?!" Mia heard Sally let out an involuntary squawk. "Yeah! And he seems to mostly eat canned food! I promised him that I'd bring over some of our orange chicken tonight!" "Oh the poor little guy!" "I think he might need a little help..." And there it is folks, the first part of a new story! Let's see where it goes!

Well, I know I have some other works that I need to really get done, but this little idea popped into my head last night, and it wouldn't go away until I wrote a chapter for it. So, here's The Infant's Guide to Reaching Purgatory~ Some things to note before we get started: Firstly, the content warnings are very real. Pay attention to the tags before you jump in and read. If it's not for you, you are absolutely not obligated to read, and that's perfectly okay. Secondly, this is not meant as a religion-bashing story, and I will not make it one. I am not religious in the slightest myself (and some of the things that the characters say do not reflect my beliefs), but I respect all creeds. It's just that this story is set in hell, for the very most part. No, it's not a Hellaverse fic: just a babyfur story that happens to be set in a different sort of hell. Finally, it is a very short prologue, and I apologize for not being able to get back into the swing of things in my other stories. I just needed to write something down and post it. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Now, without further delay, let's get into this story: - Prologue - “What do you MEAN, ‘I’m going to Hell’?!” The female red wolf had all but screamed those words, lashing her tail to-and-fro, nude as the day she was born (to her utmost dismay as she continued to cover herself with her paws and tail as best as she could; the angels said that earthly clothes couldn’t be taken to the afterlife), standing on the clouds that made up the surface of whatever judgment chambers there were in Heaven. Fuck, even the walls and ceiling were covered in clouds. She was utterly incensed. How dare these fucking self-righteous hypocrites say she was damned?! What did they know about her life?! What did they know about her?! The swan-winged figure looked at her coldly. Gender and species were impossible to identify with the angel’s robes, the heavenly halo shining upon its masked face. “Violet Valencia Bailey,” the voice intoned, neither male nor female. “Please don’t make this as drawn out as it could be. You’ve been judged by your actions and sins, and-” “I WANNA KNOW WHY!” Violet snarled furiously. “Please don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. You know why. Your last actions literally spelled it out.” “Unless you think suicide is a sin all of a sudden?” the red wolf huffed, wishing she had something, anything, really, to cover her body. Even a towel would be nice… “I’d say brutally murdering your husband in cold blood gets-” “YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID TO ME, IF YOU’RE SO FUCKING ALL POWERFUL-” “Please do not interrupt me, and please do not curse. His actions were detestable. Yours are inexcusable, and you don’t even have the good grace to admit it.” “Bullshit! I did what any sane woman would’ve done to a fucking bastard like him!” “Please stop curs-” “Make me!” “Don’t - interrupt me - again.” “Make me! You’re not my parents!” “And thank the Lord Almighty I’m not. You’re acting like a petulant child.” “Fuck off, chickenwing! If you’re going to send me down to Hell anyway, when I don’t deserve it, you’re goddamned right I’m gonna chew your ass out!” The masked figure sighed and pulled out an odd circular object that Violet assumed was a phone of some kind (and it sucked that she couldn’t bring her phone with her to the afterlife. Seriously, the afterlife could go screw itself, at this point.). “We have a Code Sunshine, repeat, Code Sunshine,” the figure said in a bored tone. The red wolf was suddenly confused. “Sunshine?” she asked. “It means you’re getting what you’ve rightfully earned,” the angelic figure said, and Violet could practically hear the smug smile on their face that she knew they were hiding behind their mask. “It’s been a while since this code was used. You might want to give us some entertainment.” “Entertainment? The fuck are you talking about?! You sick fucks like to watch animals get tortured, don’t you?!” “You’ll see what happens. I bet you last a week before you’re begging for Lucifer’s deepest, darkest pits. Or three days before she has you right where she wants you.” “Huh?” Violet felt herself sinking through the clouds, and she howled in distress - she hated heights, hated them, hated them, hated them - before her entire body slipped through, and she began to freefall through the air, her spirit plummeting to earth as she continued screaming in terror, flailing for any purchase where there was none, her soul dropping like a stone. She saw the ground fly up to meet her, and she held her paws out to protect her face, awaiting the crash. Only she didn’t crash; the second Violet’s spirit hit the ground, she began to sink through the inky black, like she was going into water in the night. Her arms and legs were forced up to her chin, tail curled around her waist, as if she was a fetus again, her body compacting from the pressure. “OH?” a masculine voice rang out, sounding very amused. “So, you managed to anger an Archangel enough for them to request a Code Sunshine. Can I have your name?” “Who the fuck are you?” Violet snapped, her voice sounding oddly tiny for a fully-grown she-wolf. “Are you some demon who’s gonna try to torture me, asshole?” “Well, I can certainly see why they requested it.” The voice was still amused. “Let me see…what is your crime…oh, right here, they texted it to me. Heaven can be so kind in those cases…” “Who the fuck are you?!” the red wolf repeated furiously. “Ahem, Violet Valencia Bailey the red wolf, you brutally murdered your husband, Dirk Arnold Stauss the Tapanuli orangutan, with a shotgun…multiple shots before he was finally killed-” “Shut up!” Violet snarled, baring her fangs, wishing for the millionth time that she wasn’t naked. The demon continued as if she had never spoken, “-then committed suicide after the murder-” “SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Violet screamed into the inky blackness, her voice as loud and forceful as a puppy’s. "-aborted his potential children without his knowledge in the past, refusing them a life when you had other options-" "GOD DAMN YOU, GO SUCK YOUR FUCKING DICK!" “And you had arguments with him as well,” the voice finished with a thunderous ending in his tone, far more powerful than hers. “Do you deny any of this?” The red wolf was shaking, her fur bristling with rage. “Does anyone realize why I did this?! Do you even fucking CARE, you unfair piece of shit?!" “Fairness in Hell? Do not make me scoff. He is damned as well; there is your 'fairness'. The difference between this man and you are that he did not act childishly when confronted with his wrongdoings. He freely admitted his sins, boasted that he was proud of them, despite knowing very well they were wrong; he is facing his eternal punishment as we speak. Deep down, I think you do know you were not in the right either. What is the saying, ‘two wrongs do not make a right?’” “Shut up! You don’t know shit about me!” The voice sighed. “I cannot continue this conversation with someone so immature. I will leave you to the Grand Duchess, Astaroth. May this be the last time we meet.” “What?” Violet felt a burning charge go through her soul, trillions upon trillions of times both hotter and colder than she had ever felt in her twenty-five years of life on earth, unable to even scream out her pain in response - and after the charge lanced through every part of her that remained, her conscious thoughts slipped into darkness. - Hope y'all enjoyed~

Deep in the archives of the FBI's Vault of records are cold cases, of which less than half are public record. A small portion of that considered cold and unconfirmed. Amongst these records is a sealed bag of a hand-written note in red crayon and a larger than normal baby bottle, thus the aptly named cold case 'The Message in the Baby Bottle'. Records indicate this bottle was discovered on 5/13/20 by a riverboat casino in Arkansas, but the message within was contaminated by the citizen who found it, opened it, and read it. Still, lab records note organic debris that could be found as north as Iowa or Illinois, so is the estimated origin point. This case has only been picked up by two agents since it was brought to the FBI. The first agent dismissed it as a joke, prank, dare, or musings of a bored teenager in COVID lockdown, and the case was recently picked up for review, who has recently amended the report with her findings. EVIDENCE #2: The Crayon Scribbles Please help. My name is Jake Borden. Two years ago, I was a month from graduation ... I had no plans and I was fine with that. I just wanted to be free of school for a little bit before I worried about my next school. In that month, one day, everything seemed fine at home but when I got to school, my classes had been shifted around to junior level. I was pointed back to my classes from the year before, to sit with younger students, and act like it was normal. My friends didn't see it as a weird and I thought... it was so prank. Maybe every senior had to go through this in the last month before graduation. So I shrugged it off, enjoyed the easy classes, and went about the rest of my day. Then it happened again. The next day, I was told I was in the wrong classroom and pointed to my sophomore teachers. No one else was getting this treatment so I figured... okay, it's me. It's a prank against me and I decided to be cool about it. I took the easy classes, laughed it off, and said the next day, I'd be in freshman classes, which I was right. All day, I grinned, joked, and enjoyed the ride. I thought at the end of that school day, I'd get a 'surprise' and explanation... but that didn't happen. Nothing happened. The day ended, everyone went home for the weekend, and I hoped by Monday, I'd get my answer. But it got worse. The next day, rather than walking to school, my mom said the bus was ready for me. I hadn't taken the bus since 8th grade. I'll admit... I should have thrown a fit there. I should have asked more questions, tried to figure out what was going on... but I thought this must be an organized prank or lesson by my parents. They weren't happy I hadn't applied to any colleges and had no plans, and they were punishing me with some elaborate, organized prank with my old teachers. I was stubborn and thought I'd show them. I'd love these classes, enjoy my time, and not feel whatever they were hoping I'd feel. I took the bus, joked around with these young idiots, swept through all of my classes with ease, and did it all with a grin. But no one at home seemed to care or be bothered. I told my parents I had a great day in 8th grade and they acted like it was normal. My little sister Shannon was even much the same, which I was initially impressed she could hold it together. Then the next day was 7th grade. It was probably here I started getting nervous. How far was this going to go? Was I going to take the same classes the next day with my sister in 6th grade? I tried asking questions, but my parents seemed confused... like I had never been in 8th grade at all, let alone the day before. My phone also disappeared and that sent me into a panic. All of my life was in that thing and it was just gone. I had a huge meltdown and mom let me stay home from school that day (called me in sick to the middle school). I thought maybe that would be the end of it. They'd give me my phone back, prank done, lesson learned. Nope. Next day, 6th grade. No one could rationalize why I was in the same grade as my sister when I was 18 and she was 12. But my mom gave me the weirdest look and told me straight to my face "you're both 12". Dead serious, no hint of a joke. I tried demanding my phone back, I tried walking to school, but dad put his foot down. He dragged me back to the car and drove me to the middle school, since I had missed the bus, and scolded me the entire drive like I was 12. I don't know what I should have done differently. I acted out, I wrote "I'M 18" on the chalkboards, on any handouts I got.. eventually I was sent to the nurse, who cleared me, and then given detention for the next day. I was scolded again at dinner for 'being a brat'. But I never got that detention. By the next day... I was back in elementary school. 5th grade. I relived puberty lessons and talked as if I hadn't gone through it. I was surrounded by 'friends' that were children, all acting like I belonged there and it was normal. I was in 4th grade by Friday and no one was listening to me. Every day, I was reliving ... I think the movie is called Groundhog's Day but like... worse. I kept repeating myself, having to explain to everyone that I was 18, I should be graduating high school this month, and I didn't belong in any of these classes. The reactions went from annoyed to concerned, and then when I really hit the lower grades, to mild amusement. Like I was some fucking kid making up a story to the adults. All weekend, having finished 4th grade on friday, I tried begging my parents to stop the lesson. I'd learned, I'd apply to college, I'd do whatever they want. I just wanted my life back. They laughed. They fucking laughed and said I had a ways to go before worrying about college. My bedtime was stupid early... earlier than my sister's and my bedroom was changing too. I had my older toys, bedsheets, pajamas... and no one acted like anything was wrong. All of my accounts were gone... I didn't have email anymore, no laptop, no way to reach out to my friends. So I biked to my closest friends house, Brad. When I got there, his mom acted like she didn't recognize me and when he came to the front door, he didn't either. He treated me like some kind of confused kid and when he got tired of my story, he shut the door in my face. My bike was chained up after that. I was 'bothering the neighbors' and grounded. Monday, third grade. Tuesday, second. Wednesday, first. Thursday, kindergarten. No one would listen to me. No one believed me. On Friday, I went to preschool and sat amongst a range of kids in pull ups, ate finger food, and every time I did anything that wasn't exactly obedient, I was 'throwing a tantrum'. I couldn't say anything that wasn't thrown in my face. Everyone was talking down to me... even my little sister. Everyone acted like I was a small child. Then on Monday... I woke up in a diaper, in a crib. My bedroom was now an oversized baby room. I had footie pajamas on, pacifiers everywhere, baby toys and baby decorations. There were no signs of my older life. I flipped out. I ripped the diaper off and started wrecking everything I could but dad quickly came in and held me down, like he was used to this. Mom came in and fixed everything she could. They were like.. experts at work. He put me up on the changing table and mom put me back in a diaper. I screamed. I cursed. I tried to kick, bite... but dad thwarted every attempt. I said every awful, hateful thing I could think of but none of it was landing for them. They acted like I was just... in a bad mood. They didn't even flinch at the swears, like I wasn't even saying them. I cried. I couldn't fight anymore and I bawled my eyes out, and that's when mom hugged me. She was so gentle, so sweet, and ... I feel asleep in her arms. That night, I fucking begged every god I could think of. I wanted out. I wanted this to stop. Was I going to keep reducing in age until I didn't exist anymore? I prayed, I cried, I begged. I asked over and over again for hours in my crib for it to stop. I said I'd do anything to make this stop. A week went by, and nothing changed. I didn't get treated older but I didn't blink out of existence. My life was now this. Diapers, bottles, naptime... repeat. It's been two years of this. No one understands me, and writing doesn't work. I can see what I wrote and I can see the words, but everyone else seems to see scribbles. I've noticed that most of my words seemed to be ignored except baby-like ones. Mom responds to 'mommy', same with dad, but not 'mom' or 'dad'. Shannon is 'sissy', bottles are 'ba-ba's, if I need a change and mom hasn't noticed, it's 'diapee'. I can't get out of this. Nothing I do works. None of my friends recognize me or acknowledge me. None of my teachers recognize me. Everyone talks to me like I'm some big baby. I'm stuck like this. I sometimes worry I shouldn't have asked for it to stop. I should have asked to have my old life back. I worry I asked for the process to stop too soon, and now I'm stuck. I don't know... I don't know how or why this happened. But if you can read this... like actually read this... Please fucking help me. CASE AMENDMENT 1.0 by Agent Catherine Green 10/18/25 Given the context clues of this note, I was able to track down a Jake Borden in Davenport, Iowa. Ahead of making contact with the family, I confirmed a sister named Shannon and a teenager that graduated in 2018 within reasonable biking distance of the Borden household named Brad. Mother is Courtney Borden, and father is Oscar Borden. I brought both the bottle and message to my interview, though over the phone I was met with a curious tone when asking if I could speak with Jake. When I arrived, it was clear why. As the message suggests, Jake is an adult in physique, but was dressed in an adult onesie and diaper. He was using a pacifier throughout the entire interview, though he did made attempts to remove it and speak throughout the process, it was incoherent baby-like babbling. Courtney and Oscar explained that Jake had a rare, yet unnamed genetic condition that renders his mind stuck as an infant, despite his body growing. They had no pictures or evidence of any schooling, which I can confirm in my research that there are no records of Jake Borden ever attending any schools. To the contrary, they had photos of him throughout the his 25 years of life, always in diapers. More strangely, when I showed the parents the note, they could not read it. They only saw red crayon scribbles. They confirmed they recognized the bottle as one they lost years ago, and apologized profusely for what they perceived as a waste of my time. I had no choice but to leave, though I will admit as I was leaving, I could have sworn I saw a look of despair from Jake. CASE AMENDMENT 1.1 by Agent Catherine Green 0/25/25 I looked into the genetic condition, as I couldn't shake that look on Jake's face when I left. Suspecting his parents were perhaps exhibiting some kind of Munchausen's by Proxy, I dug around to see what other instances I could find, and discovered the previous agent assigned to this case, whose name I can see on the paperwork, has this condition. But there is no record of him working here. I have come to realize this case has been left alone because most people cannot be the note. Like Courtney and Oscar Borden, this message is incoherent crayon scribbles to everyone I show it to. Additionally, I have noticed my colleagues have been treating me differently with each passing day. As if I am less experienced than the day before. Though I know this sounds completely foreign to assert as an experience Special Agent, I believe I may be experiencing a similar daily regression as Jake had. If this is true, I have days before my clearance is reduced and I can no longer access this file, and only a few more days beyond that before I will no longer be working here. Since this all began the moment I read this file and Jake's message, I must concluded I have been afflicted by it... somehow. I am marking this case as TOXIC and SUPERNATURAL, and recommending it to be sealed permanently. If you are reading this, I have likely failed to do so, and if you can read Jake's message... then I wish you good luck.

Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Female domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Depictions of non-consent and other forced actions of a sexual or other type of encounter Emasculation and feminization through various means and to differnt ends Degredation of human anatomy and mental status This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! Welcome back and I hope everyone had as good of a break as I did! Work was stressful as usual these days, but it’s always nice to get away for a little bit from trying to meet my own personal deadlines, especially after such a large project as my last few stories were with some requiring all the completely new world-building and whatnot. Now, though, it’s just as equally good to be back and writing stories again. Unlike my previous story, due to how the system works here, I needed to be very precise in calculating everything out before I wrote a single word down. That being said, some of these chapters have proven to be temperamental and don’t quite make the page count I thought they were going to or are entirely too long for a single one. So, right now, the total chapter count stands at 27, but this is subject to change. Some of the later chapters are mapped out precisely as they are and won’t change, but some of the chapters in the middle may need to be altered or fleshed out to give more growth to these characters here. Which I guess is all to say that if the final tally of chapters changes at all, I will let you all know. Now, as much joy as I’ve derived from this story so far, I need to mention two caveats. First, I have based this story on a CYOA I found years ago. I’ve looked for the creator for at least five years now, but no such luck. I have also modified it for the story a little, but the concept is still there. Also, I should point out that because of some of the themes here, it will be a little coarser and more mature. I will try to give out warnings before some of the more intense scenes, but be warned, this one is not all fluffy diapers and pink princesses. Next, as is typical these days, I will post the next poll at the start of the following chapter. Looking ahead, I already know that this concept will be a one-off story, so there will not be a sequel in its future. With that in mind, the next poll will contain one DD story and two others that are a little more on the supernatural/spooky side. Because of this, I might try to put out more than three chapters a week and I might take a shorter break, but I think the stories are interesting enough on their own and plus, they have never been shown in one of my polls before. So, be on the lookout for all that next. Also, looking ahead, I’m absolutely tasking myself with writing/editing at least three chapters a week. That being said, with 27 current chapters and at least three a week, this will definitively bump into about mid-October, which means that I will be pausing at least at one point for a multi-day vacation. Once again, I’m headed down to Florida, but this time, it will be for some Halloween-themed events, so you just never know what twisted or fantastical tales I might come back with for new story ideas, so take comfort in the delay with the prospect of at least other future stories from me. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story! Chapter 1: Starting Off, 35-01 Blindfold. Gag. My hands are behind my back and tied with something… rope, I think. The truck I saw for a brief second before getting hustled up into it has a rusty axel that’s connected to a suspension that bounces heavily each time that we hit a pothole or some other ungodly bump in the road. The sound of cars, machinery… even people… all that vanished at least three hours ago now. In the back of the canvas-drawn over truck, I can feel the intense heat rise all around me as each hour passes and the day creeps on. Thinking back, though, despite my current circumstances, I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised that this is where I ended up… but really, I just wanted a job again. * * * The suited man opens the door for me and gestures inside. I look and blink a few times at the sparseness of what I’m seeing inside the hole that is the room he is gesturing to. “You’re kidding, right?” The older gentleman glares at me from his at least six inches above me. “No. You want the help… you go inside. No questions asked and you follow the instructions… or you’re out. No exceptions.” I wince a little and even turn around to view the door I just came from. I recite over in my head how to make a quit exit in case I need to. ‘Three lefts, down one floor, and through the main lobby and the security there and then out the front doors.’ There, it would be freedom and the life I had… rather than a barren room of unknown before me. But I also know what’s out there waiting for me beyond those front doors. The world sucks for people in my position, and my pride went out the window the first time another bill came in without the funds to fully back even one or two more of them. Simply put… I’m desperate. So, with a deep plunging breath, I go forward into the room. Once inside, with a sigh, I sit in the far metal chair with my back to a mirror… likely a two-way like an interrogation room. I feel the hair stand up on my neck and a growl inside my stomach… warning me to run, but these people have me cornered with the prospect of opportunity. So, even as the main door closes to this little barren room, I can really only just sit there and squash my horrid feelings deep down. Now alone with my thoughts and trying not to assume or think the worst-case scenario, I look around the room and try and check if this is some trick or a test of some kind. ‘No… no hidden messages on the walls… no pen or paper. Not even a whisper of something I should be listening for.’ It’s just me and the singular metallic desk and two hard metal chairs… both cold and unfeeling as they slightly glint off the single overhead light that slightly pendulums back and forth. Gratefully though, not to long after, the door then reopens, and another suited man comes in with a manilla folder. His expression is mostly neutral but his taught features and cropped haircut reek of ex-military and no nonsense. I could immediately feel a tightness in my stomach, one which I try to will away as I shift slightly in the chair. The man then closes the door and sits down calmly and without even a single word back to me before opening the folder out flat on the table. I immediately notice my photo on the upper right holding on by a single paperclip. “State your name for the record,” he commands, taking out a black-cased pen from the inside of his suit jacket. I swallow hard and wish more than anything that a glass of water would have been right there in front of me in that moment. “Jack… Thomas.” The man pauses and looks up at me with a hint of a hateful and annoyed glared in his eyes. “Your full name, Mr. Thomas.” I hesitate for a moment, hating my middle name… always have, but the man keeps staring at me. Maybe if the room was pastel blue and I hadn’t been frisked on my way in, I might have asked a simple ‘why,’ but my present circumstances tell me that any perceived ‘backtalk’ or questioning would be unwise. “Jack… Marie Thomas.” I can’t help but say my middle name with a slight distaste in my mouth. ‘Stupid family name…’ As typically happens, as I say it out loud, despite likely knowing it beforehand and just confirming my identity, even the stern man before me seems to find my middle name amusing… Ultimately though, he says nothing about it. He then uses his pen to go through several more verifications of my identity… social security, gender, age. All typical for someone trying to confirm I am who I say I am. Working for the government before, all that at least doesn’t faze me. But then comes the questions afterward. At first, they seem pretty normal for someone in my situation… like how long I have been unemployed, or, what my financial situation looks like, but then they start to veer towards the realm of being highly uncomfortable as why they would even need to be asked in the first place. Questions like, “Do you have heart troubles?” or “Do you have any family that miss you if you were absent?” are among the more particularly alarming. Finally, after he asks me if I’ve ‘had any surgeries,’ I can’t take it any longer. “Okay!” I shout, standing up and forcing my chair backward toward the likely two-way mirror. “No more questions! I’ve answered everything from my size to sexual preference to even if I have any allergies to medications or latex! What the hell does that have anything to do with finding a job?” The suited man glares at me and calmly stands up, towering over me. “Sit down, Mr. Thomas. These are all vital questions, I assure you… and we’re almost done.” His calm presence slightly infuriates me and only adds to my already-present anger. “Sit down? That’s all?” I smack the table. “Screw this, mister! I’m getting out of here right this second!” I march toward the door, but as my hand touches the doorknob, the man speaks up once more. “Mr. Thomas… Jack.” He calmly walks over to me and stands right up against my left side, staring down at me… not with rage or annoyance, but almost a calm passivity of a parent to a child. It more than halts my efforts in leaving right away. “You will find no locks on these doors or any others in this building toward the exit. You are free to go anytime you please...” Determined and still disturbed, my hand turns the knob. “Well, then. I’m getting the hell out of…” “But I encourage you to stay,” he says resolutely in a way that stops my hand cold… almost like he knows something I don’t. He then walks back over to the desk and retrieves my file before switching it to one of the pages on the left side. “It says here you’ve been out of a job for about a month now, which you also just confirmed for me. I’ll stop the questions, but… let’s talk about that for a second.” He pauses briefly. “Promise. Nothing more.” I hesitate to move back to the table, but I at least remove my hand from the doorknob and reface him. If nothing else, he seems happy about that. “Good. Now, come back to the table and sit down. Or stand… I just want to lay out your options here, Mr. Thomas.” I grumble and nearly leave on the spot, but there’s an odd quality about this man that makes me stay. I don’t know what it is, but that intangible quality eases me up a little. So, at least curious now, I walk back over to my chair… but I don’t sit down. “Very good, Mr. Thomas.” He calmly flips through several pages in my file. “So, again… you were laid off from your job about a month ago, correct?” “Correct,” I confirm, feeling a little deflated at admitting that. “I knew it was coming though. I’ve been working part-time for almost eight months now. Budget cuts and all…” The suited man nods. “Yes. The economy isn’t doing wonders at the moment and there have been several cuts to federal programs. Seems like your program was hit but you managed to linger on… at least until last month.” “Yes,” I admit, my ego deflating even more. “And from your earlier confirmation and from what it says from the application you filled out online that you’ve been looking for a job since then?” he asks before looking up at me. “But nothing since?” I shake my head. “Nothing serious. Small positions. Some part-time work I’m looking at in the meantime, but… I need something more. You can’t live in this area without something steady anymore.” “Yes…” The suited man’s eyes nearly seem to glow with opportunity, happiness, and another quality underneath that would amount to something nearly sinister. I focus on that last bit. “I see all that on your file here. Some college debts remaining… ouch on those, but a car payment… three years from paying off, and…” He looks back up at me and squints his eyes. “No savings?” I shake my head, and I feel I can’t sink any lower now in this room, sitting in the chair in a slump of built-up defeat before this mysterious figure… a deflated and defeated individual. “No… I have some savings, but… the form asked if I had less than $1000 in savings… which I do. So, yes, some saving, but not enough to check off the box indicating something higher.” “I see… so practically nothing and you’re living on fumes now as well…” He doesn’t wait for me to respond as my silence does plenty of talking alone. “So, you see, Mr. Thomas… when I ask you these questions… I know they may be intrusive, but honestly, this is for a government position and what amounts to an ultimate handout. With the economy and layoffs recently, I’m sure you can understand that we have many candidates in search of work or money these days.” He lets his points hang in the air for a moment, each one a painful reminder of my desperation and how close I am to failing completely. I wished I could say I had backups or a plan to bail me out, but that would be a lie. My parents are far away and broke themselves after sinking their money into some long-term investment. My brother is too busy with his wife and a new kid on the way… and we aren’t even that close. And friends? Well, I’m not exactly a social butterfly and the loss of my job hasn’t helped with that any in finding new ones. The suited man has me cornered and while the door is unlocked… it might as well be a safe door as far as I’m concerned for leaving through it now. Despite my apprehension, I know that this is one of the few chances I have to get out of the hole I’m digging myself further into every day. And terribly, the suited man knows it. His underlying smile, so subtle as to almost even be unseen, ripples along and emphasizes my desperation and his next question. “So… may I continue?” Submissive to his whims and with the knowledge that I have nowhere else to turn, I merely nod my head. He smiles, but this time his glee is obvious over my compliance with what he wants. “Excellent. Now,” he flips another page from the right side of my file, “do you have any fetishes… sexual deviancies? I really try not to judge… Purely for the record.” An hour later I’m back out on the street in Washington D.C. It’s been my home for years now, but lately it’s felt more like a self-contained prison. Each Brutalist building contrasts heavily with the Greek Revival ones, but each seems like a slap in my face now as I pass by them. ‘That’s where I used to work…’ is my constant theme these days, and each day that passes without a solid job, those words feel more distant. So, in an attempt to blur my lines of what is real and what is crushing, I head to the nearest bar I can remember. It’s a small little thing and usually a pretty quiet behind the Archives building… mostly a place for stuffy politicians or glassy eye curators. For me, though, I just order a beer and sigh as I look down into it and the bubbles fizzing up from the bottom. It’s a small distraction, but it still work its magic and let’s me forget for a second… “Pretty shit, huh?” the bartender asks out loud, catching me off guard. I look up with bleary eyes and squint back at him as he polishes off another glass with his dish towel. “Huh?” He gestures to the nearby small TV, almost looking at odds with the rest of the older style bar in the district. Still, unlike most others in the city, it displays the news instead of sports. Most newcomers request to change it, but that’s not what this place is about, and they’re always shot down. In this place, it’s all about governmental policy and change. So, when I look up at the TV and see yet another news report, it’s not surprising, but the headline opens my eyes more than I care to admit. “Government eases testing standards for new programs.” It could be worse, especially in the modern climate, but still… it makes me wonder. “Hard to believe. Maybe chickens won’t be tested as well or something. Saving a buck or two, I guess…” I shrug, not really knowing the answers and not being surprised by most anything on the news anymore. The bartender eyes a nearby chicken sandwich with more than a little unease but ultimately collects it and comes back. “Maybe, but… ready for another round tonight?” He gestures at the once full beer in my hands currently. I sigh and stare at my nearly empty glass. I want another, but ultimately, I shake my head. “No, would love to but…” I don’t finish my thoughts and simply pull out my only 20-dollar bill and hand it over. From the change I get back, I am sure to still leave a decent tip. I might be screwed these days, but I just can’t find it in myself to tip poorly. I walk back to my apartment rather than taking the metro. It saves me a little money, and the walking feels good… despite the fact that the weather is unseasonably warm for this time of year. It especially doesn’t help as I make my way up the flight of stairs and to my actual apartment. Little beads of sweat are already pouring from my forehead as my keys turn to my barebones living space. With my previous job, I was never here much before, so I never felt the need for more. Now though, especially as I immediately go back to job hunting and checking my email, it feels especially lonely. Tonight however, while I’m looking through my emails, I see what I’ve been looking for now for a month. The newest email in my inbox blinks and is all in bold. “Your application has been accepted.” It’s all I can do to keep myself from jumping up and down in joy after reading the header of the fresh and beautiful email message. “Yes! Finally!” I briefly stifle my joy and check out the job… just in case of spam. To my utter relief, it seems all legitimate. So, not wasting a second, I quickly reply back to set up an interview. My hand nearly shakes the whole time I’m writing the email back to them. I can feel the electricity of the potential in the moment. It feels like… freedom… opportunity. Once I hit send though, I allow the waves of euphoria to fully pour through me. I’m electric… thrilled… jubilant. I jump up and after even do a little dance before snapping my fingers. “This calls for a celebration!” So, once more, I grab my keys and head out my door to the nearest convenience store. It’s small and a little dingy around the back, but they have a great selection of chips and ice cream… perfect for a little late night snack celebration. I almost go for chocolate and cherry, but considering the heat and the occasion though, I grab my favorite flavor of chocolate and peanut butter. It feels so good to clutch that pint of cold deliciousness in my hand and I even whistle slightly as I checkout. “Man, I wish I could be that happy about something,” the store owner tells me. “Oh, it feels great,” I acknowledge. “Just got a job application back and I’m waiting to set up an interview. I can honestly say that it’s the best news I’ve had in a month.” The store owner’s eyes light up and he smiles wide. “Congratulations, sir! Best of luck to you on that,” he says, handing me the receipt with nearly a bounce in his words now. Most people know the horrible state of the economy and the huge numbers of joblessness. An interview was always great before, but these days… it’s an even bigger deal. I smile even wider and take my receipt. “Thank you! I really think things are just about to turn the corner for me…” I then exit the store and head back to my apartment. I’m humming along the darkened street… a few lights out from the lack of maintenance. Crime is up in the area, but my apartment isn’t far, and I almost have developed sixth sense about these things by now. But I’m happy. That wouldn’t be a problem normally, but I’m nearly in bliss. There’s something so alluring and free about the prospect of an interview for me. It’s a light at the end of the tunnel and a beacon of hope I can turn toward through the rough storms that is my life at the moment. It should all be grand. I’m even whistling a bit once again and focusing just on what is in front of me. I’m distracted. I don’t hear the crack of a twig on the sidewalk behind me like I normally would. I don’t pay attention to the rubber turning on the pavement off to the side or the deft footsteps on the alleyway down on my left. I’m oblivious to all other things other than my own happiness that yes, I’ve turned the corner in life. Yes, most absolutely, things will be different. Turns out… just not in the way that I wanted. The personnel that surround me are very quick. Professional, burly, and imposing masked figures. They bear no insignia, and I can’t make anything out of them except their maybe six inches to a foot in height and maybe 30 pounds of muscle over me at least. One gets me from behind and places their hand over my mouth with some kind of cloth. Two go for my arms quickly after and lock me into place. The fourth goes for my legs in a vice-like grip. I can’t move and I’m being hauled away… right down the darkened alleyway and into a van. I try to scream. I try to flail around… but it’s useless. I’m useless. I’m packed into the black van in seconds, and I hear the side sliding door crunch over on its tracks and then slam shut before the vehicle lurches away. I barely move with how I’m still being held. No voices around me. Just hand signals and quick and efficient meaty hands that go to work around me. I’m locked in and I can’t do anything about it. Darkness starts to envelop me. The van is dark and curtains black out most of the light, but quickly, I know with terrifying horror that this is something more. My limbs become heavy. The fight inside me begins to fade whether I wish for it or not. I want to kill these people… at least scratch or beat them senselessly and flee back into the night and up to the relative safety of my apartment. But those are the actionable desires of someone fully conscious. Simply put, that isn’t me anymore. A hand is still over my mouth. Though the edges of my world begin to blur, I still smell something chemical in front of me. ‘The white rag covering my mouth and nose must be laced with something.’ There’s no other rational explanation for how I’m feeling right now. It’s a terrible sinking feeling in my gut. But it doesn’t matter. The figure that was once holding my legs now comes over to me, and while the van is still mostly black, a flash of light streams in from the front and highlights the metallic cylinder precariously balanced in their hands. The needle at the tip almost seems to sparkle and drip with something magical and yet unwanted. I’m not a genius, but it doesn’t take one to realize what is about to happen. With my last efforts of strength, I thrash about. But again, I’m useless. Before, it was the locked position of the personnel holding and pinning me in place. Now, I feel their grip is still locked but now significantly loosened. If anything, my efforts against them come off as simply pathetic. So, whether I wish it or not, the person takes advantage of my uselessness and weakness and comes forward. Before I can even attempt to scream out, he quickly jabs the needle right into my arm. It burns heavily and I wince and try to scream in pain as it plunges deep. But again, I’m useless. I’m powerless to stop anything, and worse… the blackness, at first creeping, now surges forward around my vision like a crashing wave. Now, there is nothing more. I feel nothing. I am nothing. * * * The bumps that jostled me awake earlier are no less smooth now than they were previously from what had to be at least three hours ago. I have to pee something fierce but the truck I’m bound, gagged, and blindfolded in has shown no signs of stopping. Occasionally, I hear something on the radio or hushed whispers, but that’s about it. I could forgive anyone from thinking that it meant I didn’t know anything. True, I couldn’t hear or really touch anything, but my other senses were ever more focused. I had watched a documentary last year about a woman who fled her kidnapper and because she remembered the sound of a train going by not long before the car she was in stopped, the police were able to later apprehend her kidnapper. So, drawing at least a few parallels between our situations, as soon as I had come to my senses, I tried to figure out anything I could in this less-than-ideal situation. The road was rough and bumpy. As I noted before, it’s what jostled me awake after I had passed out in D.C., but that was another prominent thing. Also, yes, it was summer in D.C., and the old swamp area was particularly humid, but now… it is still hot around me, but more of a dry heat. I feel the sweat accumulate slightly around my body in the back of the truck… likely poorly ventilated and maybe even open to the outside in places. I’m not entirely sure about that, but the heat and lack of humidity tell me that I’m nowhere near to where I live. Potentially problematic, yes, but also telling. Loving to travel, I’ve been to most of the surrounding states near D.C., and what’s absolutely certain, nowhere right now is receiving dry heat as their weather forecast right now. It’s either something akin to the swamps of Satan or the near drownings of a wretched batch of storms in the areas… not this. So, I begin to check off in my mind where I could be. ‘Definitely west of the Appalachian Mountains… but no cold or extreme breezes of the Rockies… plus maybe too far. Back roads definitely… so not near a city. No traffic lights either, since we haven’t stopped once, so that kills a lot of places as well. Figure a straight drive since last night and the amount of heat… intense and not boiling but growing… means early or midday… but that also would only place me somewhere along just east of the Mississippi longitude from when I was kidnapped last night to now.’ I paused and winced. ‘No… that’s not right, so… crap. Was I out for a whole day already? My bladder… shit. I’m even further west. Maybe a full day then… Still a big area though. Doesn’t narrow it down too much, but it’s something.’ I hope I’m wrong in most of that in a way, since going to a barren area hardly ever spelled something good, but considering I was kidnapped already… my luck doesn’t seem that good. The truck bounces me about a few more times and my need to pee is near to the bursting point. I try thinking about almost anything else, but that’s proving an issue. Between my hunger, my bladder, and my confinement, I nearly feel bugs crawling over my skin in a near phantom itch to move… to run. Just… anything more than this. I try to speak, but the gag prevents anything but a muffled sound emitting instead of the pleas to let me go or at least let me move around that I truly intend. It does attract the attention of my kidnappers though… “Hey, you!” a gruff voice nearly growls at me. “Cut that out. We’re almost there, so just sit tight. We can’t hurt you, but we can make your last moments out here very miserable.” I feel a hand shove me slightly back. “So… what’s it going to be? Stay calm or are we going to have to get… creative?” I sense his threat is exactly that. There was no hesitation or even any signs of a bluff on his part. This man, whoever he is, seems to have both done this before and be pretty okay with it and whatever else was necessary in his role to subdue me. So, weighing my options, considering my current state of being trapped, mute, and blind… I settle down and don’t say a word. The man chuckles. “Good boy. Maybe there’s hope for you yet…” His words do nothing to help the already pent-up and dreading feeling I had since I had been taken. Still, despite his gruffness and threats to use possibly violence or torture or some other nasty thing against me, the man was at least telling the truth that we would soon arrive. The van quickly lurches to a stop. A few shuffling noises later, my blindfold is finally removed. I have to blink a few seconds as the light streams all around me from the windows in the front and the back. I find it strange that the van is so open like that now as compared to last night with the curtains on the windows, but the figures in front of my vision fully distract me from any further thoughts on the matter. Masked and geared to the hilt, they exude an ex-military vibe that I often saw in my previous job when dealing with mercenaries and security personnel we contracted out for our safety sometimes. Not saying a word, the lead man then points out the door that is soon opened. More light floods in and I look back to the man who gestured to the door for more answers. I’m not sure why he isn’t just using his words, but at this point, I remember the veiled threat before. Whatever this is, I absolutely don’t want to make it uncomfortable… or at least more so than it already is. The man simply waves his hand at me out the door. I take his meaning this time to exit the vehicle. I’m still gagged, and my hands are bound together tightly… uncomfortably at this point, but again, I don’t want to cause any more problems for myself. Simply put… between the dry heat, the backroads, lack of traffic lights, and the amount of time it took to get here and stop, I don’t like my chances of escape. Terrifyingly, my suspicions are confirmed when I exit the vehicle. Desert… or at least at best a barren wasteland of dried-up prairies stretches for what seems like miles in all directions. Hazy mountains flank to the west, and to the east… nothing. I think I see a shimmering glint of maybe a tower… a fence… something, but definitely not civilization. If anything, even those signs of something else seem to reinforce the barrenness of where I’m currently standing. Another masked and geared man comes up to me and holds up a tablet of sorts near my head before glaring right at me. “Confirm… Jack Maria Thomas,” he directs right as another man removes the gag from my mouth from behind. I smack my mouth together a few times in an effort to remove the nasty threads left on my tongue. I can already feel the dryness of a lack of water from all that time, but I also see the masked man’s eyes. Sharp, focused… full of duty, sternness, and no-nonsense. I saw the same in the other man and I know not to screw around, but I know I need to try. “Please… just let me go and…” “Confirm,” he presses again, this time with a small amount of anger behind his voice and one of his fingers seemingly itching toward the stock of the gun he’s carrying as well. I swallow hard at the scene, and I nod as fast as I can. “Yes… that’s me.” I take a breath. “But what…?” “Silence.” His voice isn’t annoyed, angry, or even shrill like I might has expected. Just more to the point and focused on the task he seemingly has to perform. To me, it seems we both have our roles to fill… ‘Definitely not the overall leader of this thing.’ The man taps a few more things on the tablet before him, before strangely looking dismayed. I almost question him, but with everything going on around me, my thoughts bounce from one subject to the next and his looks take a momentary backseat. My vision moves from the desert landscape to the horizon line, to the distant mountains, to the men with guns… and then even to what I am currently wearing. Before, back in D.C., I was still wearing the suit I had worn to the interview earlier in the day. I had removed the suit jacket once I got home, but the button-up shirt and pants were definitely still attached to me. Now, they’re gone and in their place is a faded green prison jumpsuit of sorts. I swallow hard at the implications… Finally looking up from his tablet, the man looks at me once more. “Okay… here’s your situation. In a moment, you’re going to a bunker of sorts. You will be there for one year, and at the end… you’ll get a substantial payout for your services.” I frown back at him in confusion, but I keep my mouth shut, my eyes still drifting to the rifle attached to his body. ‘Definitely not where I thought this was going…’ “I see you have questions,” the man notes, stepping closer to me, “but they will have to wait. We need to do two things right now. First, know there are only three ways out of this.” He holds up one finger. “First… quit. You do that and all the money reserved for you at the end will be forfeited, and you will receive no government assistance of any kind afterward.” He holds up a second finger. “Two… flee. You try to escape, and…” He pivots over and points to the shiny point at the distance I had seen earlier. “You see that?” I quickly nod. “Good. That’s a watch tower. They’re all around you,” he notes menacingly as he gestures in a circle around where we’re standing before he rests his hand on his large gun. “They have guns just like this one… or even much larger. You escape; they have the option to shoot you on sight. You survive; you go back and incur a penalty… a harsh one.” He glares at me. “I wouldn’t suggest that route.” I wince but note internally that there’s still one more option. “And third?” I ask hesitantly, the first two options seeming truly terrible and hoping beyond measure that somehow the third would be more reasonable. “Third…” He smirks down at me, his few inches of height over me seemingly a lot more in our current roles. “Well, third is that you finish the year here. It might seem like a burden and impossible in the days ahead, but considering the others, I would still recommend option three.” Again, I quickly nodded. Another person, feistier and more combative might have fought, but that wasn’t me. I was trying to use my head, and simply put, I saw my options and the remoteness of where I was. Fight, escape, and flee, but to where? Out here, even if I managed to avoid the towers with big guns, my survival out here wouldn’t be guaranteed in the slightest. So, as much as a little voice inside my head was telling me to, my instincts told me as plain as day that fighting back would be pointless… foolhardy at best. “Very good. Maybe there’s hope for you after all…” He smirks and turns back to his tablet before holding it back up to me. “Now then… in you go…” I blink back at the man and look around. “Go? Go where?” The man points nearby and while I have to squint my eyes to see it, only about thirty yards away is what amounts to a slit in the ground. Only about 20 feet long, I see the ground plunges inward and leads to a submerged door right under the surface of the soil above. All of it concrete… devoid of emotion… uninviting. I feel a cold splinter of fear enter my heart. “Wha… what’s down there?” I ask, a weakness and subsequent trembling sensation beginning to take over my limbs as the true measure of my situation begins to unfold before my eyes. “That…” the man noted smugly. “That… is your new home for the next year… or at least the entrance to it.” He pauses for a minute, but me still not budging, the man then scowls back at me and raises his rifle barrel to my chest. “Now… I said to move. Or are you going to be giving us a problem already?” I see his rifle. I see the desperation of my situation being stuck in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by towers that had ‘shoot on sight’ orders. It was horrible, but it was that or the unfeeling bunker-like entrance now before me. Underground and heavy duty… there now seemed to be a permanence to my situation that I hadn’t felt before. I didn’t want to go down there. That’s for sure. I had read and heard about these things before… down there meant torture or death or imprisonment. I would be lucky to ever see the sun again. But… the gun in the hands of a scowling and tough ex-military masked figure before me presents an unmistakable choice, death or compliance. Unlike the previous man in the van before, the one in front of me had made no such promises of not hurting me. Somehow, the van ride now felt like the preliminary phase of all this, but now that I was here, the stakes of it all… the reality and actual event seem to be at my feet now. I didn’t like it… but I knew my options… and their limits. So, I meekly raise my still-bound hands as best to surrender and walk over to the entrance… no fight… no protest… Again, despite him still aiming his gun center-point at my chest, he smiles and soon follows me over to the slit in the ground that is to be my ‘home’ for the next year. Stopping right before the steps to the door, I turn around and hold my bound wrists up. “Can I… well, can I at least be free before I go down?” I try to widen my eyes and seem as desperate as possible. I want to stay strong, but I felt there was a wide gap between entering the creepy bunker with my hands bound versus them free. So, I had to try at least. There’s a grumble and an annoyance from my masked captors, but the main leader nods his head to one of the other men behind me. This new masked man comes at me hard and quickly flicks out a long knife from one of his chest pockets. It shines underneath the desert sun; glinting and deadly. I wince and shut my eyes… painfully aware that I’ve likely lost the protection that was once promised to me before. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, with everything going on, I’m no longer taking anything for granted… not even my safety or my life. But the man only ambles over, roughly takes my wrists, and cuts the rope that was binding them together. I open my eyes and see my now free wrists. “Thank you…” I muster out. The man only grunts and turns away… leaving the leader to point his gun once more at me. “Alright… you’re free. Now, down you go.” Again, his actions are clear, and his gun speaks the volumes that he doesn’t. It says threat and deadly force is now authorized on my hide. It says this is serious business and whatever awaits me in the hole, in case I already knew what was happening, isn’t going to be much better… or at least to the point where they would need to threaten me with entering or face down death itself. I rationalize that most things are better than death and then place my foot on the first step going down. My knees wobble as I turn around full now and head down the stairs. The morning sun begins to arc overhead and fill the hole with light, showing off all the dust floating around in such a barren climate. I see the door ahead of me… it’s shine in stark contrast to the rusted stains on the concrete around it… almost like the place had recently been repurposed… like I was the first guest to come here in years and precautions to keep me in needed to be upgraded. Seeing all that, my hands tremble as they reach out to the large wheel to open the door before me now. But, just in case, I turn around and look one last time at the leader. “I…” I don’t get to finish my thought… my counter to all this, hoping to plead one more time to leave. Instead, the man points his gun at me, but this time… he also makes sure to place his eye along the top rail of the gun, aiming at me with deadly precision. His new actions are clear to me now. Get into this bunker-like structure underground now and be a smear against the door instead. With such an ultimatum, I snap back to the door. I reach out with both hands this time and turn the wheel. It creaks and moans in an awfully hellish way like I am about to enter the very bowels and devilry of the earth. My stomach drops more, and I feel a single bead of sweat perspire on my forehead as the wheel finally budges. It turns and turns some more… the door finally opening. Inside is just another set of stairs downward. Darkness enshrouds more than a few feet, and I hesitate, but my ears pick up the faintest clicking noise. With my last job and growing up with a few who took me to a shooting range, I knew that sound… it was a gun loading its ammo… the weapon aligning with the bullet. Next stop, my head… my body. I have no choice. I don’t even turn around this time to plead to be let go or question a thing. I simply walk forward to my fate, sheer blinding light behind me and nothing but cold concrete and darkness before me. I swallow hard and give myself over to be swallowed by the earth and whatever this place is. Fully in, the door slams behind me. To my relief a few lights flicker on ahead of me. The stairs don’t descend as far as I originally thought but the ominous cramped feeling of all this place gives me a terrible case of claustrophobia. I immediately want out, but a quick turn of my head only reveals a thoroughly shut door behind me… and no handle or even a wheel to let myself out even if I chose that option and forfeited the end prize. Now, whether I want it or not, I’m truly trapped. Suddenly, a speaker overhead crackles to life. The sound coming from it takes a second to synch and come in as more than static, but even in the old-fashioned clicks and echoes of a speaker system at least thirty years old now sounds like, the words are very clear. “Keep moving.” I don’t know why, but I merely nod my head in compliance. I can’t go back. The sealed door and lack of egress proves that at least ten times over in my head. I can only go forward, and now with the lights… it’s not just wandering around blindly in the dark. It’s a concession for sure as to how far I’ve fallen into this terrible plot seemingly against me, but again… I feel I have no choice, or at least not a real one... Wandering down the staircase, holding onto the rail the entire time, I eventually come to a landing zone of sorts before another door. The speaker in front of me this time crackles once more. “Scan your hand on the pad in front of you.” I look and that beyond the grungy metal fittings and the leaking concrete in places, there is a brand-new electronic system… right next to where there is a large pad. It blinks a few times and then stops. Looking around, I don’t see any traps, so, I sigh and place my hand on the pad as instructed. The pad hums and blinks a few times before turning green. “Excellent,” the voice behind the speaker says once more. “You may proceed inside.” A hiss follows and the large metallic door before me opens wide. “Step in,” the voice calls out overhead. Not wanting to stay any longer in the hallway than I need to, I step inside… only to wish I saw just about anything else. Inside is only what I could describe as a jail cell. A simple plastic-like faded green bed has been shoved against one wall. The most basic metallic and uninviting toilet and sink are against another. A barred door is at the other end and as if I didn’t remember for whatever reason, the other door behind me slams and hisses close. Curiously, as I turn back, I am only greeted by a flat wall with a single seem around the edges of where the door had opened up. It’s all cold, barren, and unfeeling… except the electronic device in the corner of the room. Compared to everything else, it seems out of place. Not much larger than an oversized notebook, it blinks to life, and a single plain computerized image of a person appears. “Come here,” the voice from before says without emotion, now sounding more like a computer recording than an actual human being. I step forward cautiously and for whatever reason, I wave at the thing. “Hello?” “Greetings… candidate 35-01.” Again, the voice grates and there’s almost a synthetic whine behind it as well. “Please confirm identity and place hand on screen where indicated.” Like before, I see the blinking panel just to the left of the computerized plain head staring back at me. I sigh and place my hand where instructed. “Jack Marie Thomas.” I was starting to get annoyed at having to say my name… particularly my middle name, so often. A ping goes off and the voice returns. “Welcome, 35-01… Mr. Thomas. You have been selected by the government from a contest of over a thousand candidates to participate in a year long study and observation, known to authorities as ‘Operation Hebe.’ During this time, you will be required to make certain selections in order to facilitate your life… benefits or consequences.” The screen then changes to a counter, but to my dismay it starts simply at 100 and then counts down to only 5. “These are your starting points. As you will see, think of these as a money system of sorts. The more you have, the more you can obtain. All candidates are assigned what you will find labeled as the ‘jail cell.’ You may opt out of this at any time but know that your points can never equal less than zero. Answer, ‘acknowledge’ that you understand this.” Seeing the numbers count down to only 5 quickly gives me an uneasy feeling in all this. I feel queasy… faint and dizzy too. I nearly fall over right then, but I place one hand against the wall at the last second and take a deep breath. “Acknowledge.” The words feel like poison over my tongue, but I don’t see many other ways out. “Recorded.” The screen then flickers briefly and then changes to a large screen with several labels on it. Even in my brief look before it flashes away, I see two labels… listed as ‘Makeup’ and ‘Owners.’ “What the fu…?” “Please, 35-01,” the electronic and mostly faceless voice interrupted. “Look through these first few categories that are mandatory. We will give you some time to choose as we know this may be a shock to your system, but your non-compliance will be met with punishment.” The screen flashes back to the selection options. ‘Makeup’ and ‘Owners’ appears, but so do others before the screen switches once again to one labeled at the top as ‘Medicine Effects at 6 Months.’ My eyes instantly widen in shock at the options… particularly with the flashing ‘Selection of One Mandatory’ sign near the top, highlighted all in red. “Hair growth? Incontinence? Penis shrinkage? IQ drop?” I yell out at the screen to where I once saw the lifeless computerized head of the only voice I had been hearing down here. “What the hell is this place?” I smack the bars next to the screen, but there is no response. It’s just me here… me alone with these horrid options. Me alone in a self-described ‘jail cell.’ Me alone after being kidnapped and now confirmed to be part of the government. I slump on the bed in realization of everything clicking together. “The government… the interview I did…” Me, the homeless, ex-government employee walked right into this trap. I wanted a job, and now… for the next year, I seemed to have one. My mind swirled, but it didn’t last long. “35-01. Please make your choice. You now have one hour to make your choices… or suffer the subsequent punishments,” it calls out, its electronics seeming fragile in this state as it droned on. I look over at the still-flashing screen and the selection I have to make. Considering the methods that were employed to get me here… the guns… the towers… the desert… even the bunker I was now in. It all leads me to the same conclusion… punishments mean business here and finding out what they were was ill-advisable to say the least. I sigh and stand up. “Fuck… this is going to be a very bad year…”

Little Bee: Chapter 1 Note: this story takes place in the world of “Classified: A New Life” as written by Brutal_Ink. I hope that I can do justice to their wonderfully creative work and compelling world setting. Credit as well to @destinedfordiaperstories on Tumblr for expanding the world with their phenomenal story “Sammy’s Little Problem” Classification Day. If there were two words that struck more dread into the heart of an 18 year old, nobody had spoken them yet. Classification Day, also known as the last day of Senior Year, was the day that every high school senior would find out what their future would look like. The graduating class received their test results today, and would be classified as Caregivers, Littles, or Neutrals based on a wide variety of testing of genetic markers, enzymes in the blood, and various other measurements, profiling, and characteristics, both biological and mental. The CGL Gene that was discovered after the evolutionary shift in humanity that had become known as the Great Mutation usually began to manifest after the age of 18, so the school year was scheduled to end shortly before graduating students would begin to see the changes their genetics would make to their bodies and minds, which is why test results were given out towards the end of the last day of school. Caregivers developed powerful instincts to care for those in need, as well as higher physical strength to aid them in this task. Caregivers often, but not always, adopted Littles and made sure they were happy and safe. Those that did not adopt always pursued careers that cared for and protected others. Littles were the opposite, they found themselves regressing to an earlier stage of childhood and losing varying degrees of muscle mass, motor skills, emotional regulatory abilities, and toileting skills as most found themselves effectively incontinent and irrevocably requiring diapers at all times. Level 1 Littles regressed the most, and were essentially infants. Level 2 Littles retained the vast majority of their motor skills and other faculties, their largest sectors of regression being a complete loss of potty training and significant reduction of their ability to keep their emotions under control. Tantrums were common among Level 2 Littles, and they all needed diapers as well. Level 3 Littles regressed the least, retaining much of their emotional control as well as their potty training in many cases. While some still needed diapers, many level 3 Littles needed only Pull Ups for the occasional accident, as well as nighttime, with some even being able to wear normal underwear. Neutrals saw no changes, and were essentially the same as Humans before the Great Mutation, accounting for slightly more than half of the total population. Jamie Holbrook stood in the school’s Common area, feeling a bit of trepidation. She was quite attractive, many would say cute. Petite, slender, and a Ginger, Jamie stood only 5 feet, 2 inches (157 cm) tall and weighed around 108 pounds (49 kg) if she were soaking wet and had a brick in her pocket. Jamie’s alabaster skin was dotted with freckles, and she wore her red hair in twin braids. Behind her oval-rimmed glasses, her green eyes were focused on the pristine white envelope she held. She was about to see what the future held when a piercing shriek resonated through the Commons. Apparently, Chelsea Taylor, known as the Queen of Mean, had received her results. Chelsea was one of those kids that had everything handed to them, and didn’t know what honest work even was. Chelsea’s family was wealthy, and she herself was stunningly beautiful. Tall and blonde, she knew how gorgeous she was, which was probably the root of her long list of character defects. She was an entitled, spoiled brat that thought she was better than everyone else and frequently asked if they knew who she was or who her father was and had tormented Jamie’s small circle of friends from as early as First Grade. Like Jamie, Chelsea came from a long line of Neutrals, so the results of her being a Neutral as well were all but guaranteed. Furious, she stomped up to the lab technicians that had been charged with distributing the test results. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? There is NO WAY this is right! Do you not even know how to run a blood test?” she demanded to a woman wearing a lab coat, her black hair in a tight bun. “I’m sorry, Miss…” “Taylor! CHELSEA TAYLOR! Do you know who I am?” This kind of scene was all too common on Classification Day. When someone couldn’t accept what their test results were, the responses were usually grief or extreme anger. One could teach a college level course on the Five Stages of Grief simply by observing students on Classification Day. Clearly, Chelsea was still in the first stage: Denial. The lab tech had seen this exact scene play out time and time again, a scene Jamie was watching. “No, Miss Taylor, I don’t know who you are. What seems to be the problem?” the tech asked, knowing perfectly well what the problem was. Right on cue, Chelsea moves into the second stage: Anger. “It’s these bullshit results! Level 1 Little? With all the Neutrals in my family? How could you get something so simple this wrong?” she shouted. Blinded by her anger, the Queen of Mean had no idea she had just spilled the most delicious tea that this class of Seniors had ever heard as she continued her tirade. Chelsea was one of those unpopular popular girls that was firmly entrenched in the top 5% of the social hierarchy, with the other 95% hating her due to her entitled attitude and Godzilla-sized superiority complex. Jamie noted that Chelsea had moved into the third stage: Bargaining. She was making good progress. If she had applied herself this much to her studies, the academic world would be losing quite the scholar with her soon transitioning into a Level 1 Little. “There…there has to be some mistake, right? This isn’t supposed to happen, maybe….maybe you could run the tests again?” The lab technician sighed heavily. This part was never easy. “Miss Taylor, I understand that these results are upsetting, it’s only natural. However, I can assure you that, as difficult as this is to hear, they are accurate. Our testing is exhaustive, the results triple-checked for accuracy. However….” the tech writes down a number on a sticky note and gives it to the fallen princess. “If you call this number you can request further review. For now, I suggest you report to the Nurse’s office, as you will need to be properly diapered before you leave here, you will begin to see changes very soon, so you had best be prepared. Good day.” Jamie couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. Where was this lab tech all her life to smack Chelsea down when she was….well, being Chelsea? The now-deposed Queen of Mean lowered her head for probably the first time in her life and shuffled by Jamie and a few other onlookers, having moved on to the fourth stage: Depression. All of them wore expressions of sympathy and pity. Chelsea was a bitch, sure, but nobody deserved this. Her life was essentially over, she would spend the rest of her days as a gurgling infant. The only upside being that she would more than likely no longer remember what she had lost as she endlessly emptied jars of baby food and filled her diapers. She glared at Jamie and hissed “I suppose you think that’s funny?” Before Jamie could respond with something even remotely decent, that any normal human with a shred of compassion or empathy would say, her best friend in the world, Leon, showed that he had woken up today and chosen violence. Leon Black was as nice a guy as you’d ever meet. A loyal and protective friend with long blonde hair and blue eyes, he was always trying to get Jamie to laugh. However, he had a tongue that could cut like a surgeon’s scalpel, and he wielded it with similar precision. He wasn’t one of the popular kids, which is why he and Jamie were friends. That said, nobody messed with him for fear of getting flayed to the bone by his lightning wit. By Sophomore year, he had turned so many of his classmates who had tested him into laughingstocks, the kids that liked to pick on others had decided it was best to just leave him alone. Leon was a wordsmith, and he did not hesitate to serve a plate of gourmet roast to people that clearly had it coming. The boy had simply never met a bear he didn’t want to poke with a sharp stick. Luckily, Leon could also fight, so his fists could cash the checks his mouth wrote. “Come on now, Chelsea, it’s not that bad! I mean, you’ve had people waiting on you hand and foot your whole life, what’s even gonna change,” Leon paused to take a sip of his soda, “besides your diapers, that is?” he said, the brazen teenager clearly getting payback for all these years of Chelsea making their lives tough. Chelsea couldn’t believe it, that this smartass…..NOBODY….would dare speak to HER like that. She opened her mouth to respond, but thought twice and instead launched a slap at Leon’s face. Unfortunately for Chelsea, Leon’s reflexes were almost as quick as his wit, and he swayed back out of range, the Queen of Mean’s attack completely missing him. “Hey! We don’t hit!” Leon shouted in the same tone a parent would use to admonish an unruly child. “Don’t worry Chelsea, no doubt Gucci makes some really cute onesies and frilly diaper covers. You’ll be just as fashionable as ever, I’m sure!” Rather than continue her fruitless battle against an unconquerable foe, Chelsea concedes defeat, but not before making one last attempt to save some of her soon-to-be nonexistent dignity, once her days became focused on bottles, burping, baths, and blowouts. “If someone like ME is Level 1,” she spat, “Then there is no way that a smart-mouthed, evolutionary dead end like you could possibly be anything else but Level 1 as well.” She then turned on her heel and stormed off towards the Nurse’s Office, where further humiliation in the form of a thick, fluffy diaper awaited her. “Aight, cool, see you at daycare!” Leon called after the departing Chelsea, who paused for a second, then continued on, having clearly entered into the final stage of grief: Acceptance. Jamie, who had been holding her laughter, immediately started in on Leon. She began playfully swatting at her razor-tongued best friend as she laughingly scolded him as she so often found herself doing. “You asshole….you unbelievable asshole,” she said, her voice a loud whisper mixed with laughter. “Chelsea’s as awful as they come, but not even she deserved that! What if YOU end up Level 1?” After parrying the last of Jamie’s assault, Leon grins and laughs before speaking. “Bitch please, I could be classed a Level -100, and revert to a sperm cell they have to inject back into my old man’s nutsack, and that would have still been worth it. If I’m a Level 1, I would meet my fate proudly, for I have at long last slain the Queen of Mean, and now I am awaited in Valhalla. I shall ride eternal, shiny and chrome.” Leon says while posing dramatically with his easy, warm laugh, referencing the film Mad Max: Fury Road. “WITNESS ME!” This is why Jamie loved Leon’s rogueish charm. He treated her as the little sister he never had, even though they were the same age. He always knew how to make her laugh. “You…are SUCH a prick.” Jamie retorted, letting some of her own laughter free of the pit she was forced to banish it to. “Don’t you know Little Abuse is illegal? Forget prison, you’re going to HELL, and I’m going with you for saying this, but that was awesome, Leon.” She couldn’t explain why, but she felt nervous today. At the start of the day, she wasn’t worried about her results. She came from a line of Neutrals even longer than Chelsea, but with what happened to her, a small seed of fear had crept into her heart. “You got your results?” she asked her friend. “Right here,” Leon said, holding up his white envelope. Leon’s family had a pretty good variety of Littles, Neutrals, and Caregivers, so there was a very real chance that he would end up in daycare with Chelsea. For all his cavalier attitude and jovial nature, Jamie knew her friend better than anyone. He was terrified, his joking and boasting a cover. Leon was no fool, he knew what was at stake here. He took a deep breath, and tore the envelope open. With shaking hands, he unfolded the sheet of paper. Leon read the document, his eyebrows raised, then furrowed. Jamie respected Leon’s privacy enough to refrain from trying to peek at the sheet he was reading, but the confusion he felt was unmistakable. “Dude….what the….what the hell?” he asked rhetorically. “Leon, what does it say, man? I know it doesn’t take that long to read one word and maybe a number,” Jamie said. In response, Leon flipped the paper around so Jamie could read it. Written plainly on the sheet was Leon’s Classification: BLACK, LEON JAMES: CAREGIVER. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Jamie said, surprised but not that much. “I don’t get it,” Leon said, more confused than anything else. “I’m a soulless monster, not a Caregiver.” Jamie rolled her eyes and sighed, her frustration with her clueless friend peaking. “Dude, have you just not been paying attention for like, your ENTIRE life? Looking back, you’ve had Caregiver signs the whole time I’ve known you.” Jamie said. Leon’s confusion has not yet been pierced. “That’s crazy, what do you mean?” “Well, think about it, you’ve been looking out for me for as long as I’ve known you. When we were kids, and your mom would take us to the pool, who kept on me to keep applying sunscreen so my little Ginger ass wouldn’t get cooked? It was you, Leon. That time in 3rd grade when I forgot my lunch, you shared yours with me. When I stayed over at your house, and that big storm knocked out the power, and I was freaking out because I’m scared of the dark, who was there for me? You, stupid. When I broke my arm Freshman year, you carried my books. Who picks me up every morning for school because I don’t have a driver’s license? You.” “That’s because you’re my best friend, Jamie. You know I love you and I got your back, right?” Leon retorted. “It’s more than that man, you take care of EVERYONE. Yes, you’re an asshole with a smart mouth that I am REALLY surprised hasn’t gotten you killed at this point, but that’s just a front. I KNOW you, we can’t hide from each other. When it REALLY counts, when it REALLY matters, you come through 10 times out of 10. You’re a freakin’ rock, dude,” Jamie explains. Leon nods as he recalls all the moments Jamie reminded him of and realizes that she is right. “Yeah…you’re right, you’re SO right. I’ve always just wanted to help, I guess now I know why.” “Duh.” is all Jamie says. She hands her envelope to Leon. “Here, open that and tell me I’m a Neutral.” Leon takes the envelope and chuckles, “Yeah, right,” he says while opening Jamie’s envelope. After opening the sheet of paper containing the biggest non-spoiler in the history of Classification Day, Leon’s eyes widen for just a moment, then he gets a devilish grin on his face. “You want your results? Come get ‘em!” he says as he takes off down the hallway, away from the Commons. What Jamie doesn’t see are the tears in Leon’s eyes as she takes off after him, shouting “HEY! NO FAIR!” Leon leads Jamie to an empty part of the school hallways, not far from where their former lockers now stand empty, and comes to a stop. Jamie catches up, grinning, and punches him on the arm. “Dick,” she says with a laugh. She takes a moment to catch her breath, and notices that Leon isn’t laughing, he ALWAYS laughs his fool head off when teasing her like this. The seed of fear in Jamie’s heart has now taken root. “Hey man, what’s your problem, what’s….Leon…what’s going on?” she asks, worried. Jamie has known Leon long enough to where she knows when he is and is not messing with her, and the rogueish trickster’s demeanor is completely serious. He takes Jamie’s hand into his and looks into her green eyes. “Jamie, I brought you here because I didn’t want you to find out in the Commons and act up like Chelsea. You’re a Little,” he says, his heart breaking for the cute redheaded girl that has been his best friend from the time they met. They had never even considered dating, because they were too much like brother and sister and didn’t want to make it weird. “I’m sorry.” “What? That’s stupid, I’m gonna get you for screwing with me like this, and I’m ESPECIALLY gonna fuck you up for making me run, and…” Leon cuts Jamie off by simply shoving the piece of paper with her Classification into her hands so she can see for herself. There it was, in plain black and white, unmistakable and final: HOLBROOK, JAMIE LYNN: LEVEL 2/ LEVEL 3 HYBRID LITTLE What little color Jamie naturally possesses in her face vanishes, her features as pale as moonlight. She wasn’t going to shout and curse like Chelsea, but it still didn’t seem real. Her family had been “Oops, All Neutrals” for so long she had begun to question if she even HAD a CGL Gene. With all the subtlety of a haymaker to the face, Jamie now knows that she does, and she knows her CGL Gene’s plans for her future. As the inevitable tears begin to fall, Leon wraps his arms around the petite redhead. Standing at an even 6 feet tall, 10 inches taller than Jamie, he engulfs her in his arms and holds her head close to his chest. At this moment, Leon realizes that he truly is a Caregiver. His heart is torn to shreds for his friend, as he tries to remember lessons and protocol that he only half paid attention to in class. “It’s ok, Jamie, it’s ok, I’m here.” Leon didn’t know much about this whole Hybrid business, but what he DID know was that every Little was sent home in either a diaper or a Pull Up. Accidents were quite common, especially with the anxiety and heightened emotions the Classification of Little tended to cause. Leon knew that the Nurse’s Office was their next destination, before Jamie had an accident herself. Jamie had begun to panic, her breathing becoming shallow and ragged as tears continued to stream down her face. Her voice is meek and timid as she looks up to her friend that could continue to take his first steps into adulthood, while she would never get the chance. Instead, Jamie would be returning to the days of having her diaper changed and early bedtimes. “Leon…what am I gonna do? My dad…he….he HATES L-Littles. He’s a meanie, always…saying such awful things, and…and, there are no Caregivers in my f-f-family to…to take care of m-me. I don’t wanna wear a diaper….” Jamie says between her sobs, her last statement close to whining. Leon can’t explain it, but he KNOWS what to do. His instincts guide him, and he tightens his embrace on Jamie and softly reassures her while stroking the back of her head. “Shhhhhh…..it’s okay, I’ve got you, sweetie. Just listen to my heartbeat, ok? Maybe this Hybrid stuff means you won’t need diapers or something. There’s some Level 3 in your Classification too, you know? We can ask the School Nurse when we see her. Let’s catch our breath, and go there now, think you can do that for me?” he asks, his voice a gentle caress. It becomes clear to Leon from Jamie’s recent use of “no fair” and “meanie” that she is already showing signs of the early stages of her transition, and what she asks him next galvanizes his assessment. “Why?” she asks him timidly. “You know why, Jamie,” he responds. “She’s gonna want to DIAPER me, I don’t need it, I’m not a baby,” she says indignantly. “I know, but they won’t let you leave without protection. I know you don’t need it, but we have to see the nurse. Let’s see if we can get by with a Pull Up, ok?” Leon says to try and placate his friend. “No. I don’t want to. I don’t…” she begins before Leon cuts her off. “Jamie,” he says firmly, “this isn’t something you can refuse. Look, if you fight and try to delay, you’ll only be proving that you DO need to be in a diaper. However, if you play along and don’t fuss, I’ll bet you the Nurse will think a Pull Up is all you’ll need. Come on, honey, work with me here and let’s split the difference, ok?” Jamie hated this so much. She hated how scared and alone she felt, she hated that she had to impose on Leon like this, and most of all, she hated that he was right. She sniffled one last time as she somehow managed to bring her tears under control, and nodded in agreement. “You….you won’t tell anyone what I’m wearing, will you?” Jamie asks sadly. Taking Jamie by the hand and gently leading the stunned, unsteady girl towards the Nurse’s Office, Leon shakes his head. “Come on now, you have to know that I’d never do that to you. We’ve kept each other’s secrets for years, why would I stop now?” “It’s not gonna be a secret for long…” Jamie says, feeling a pout coming on. Leon nods. “Well, when you're right, you're right I suppose. We can deal with that later. For now, it IS still a secret from everyone except you, me, and pretty soon the nurse, so let’s take advantage of the distraction Chelsea so generously provided to make a clean getaway.” Jamie nods as the two friends approach the Nurse’s Office. Mercifully, it is nearly deserted, as all the other Littles have reported in and gone home. Jamie realizes that Leon’s little prank of running off with her Classification results wasn’t just to lure her away so she could hear the news privately. He did it to give the crowd of new Littles needing diapered time to thin out at the Nurse’s Office, so that Jamie could face this trial free of prying eyes and have just a few precious extra moments to prepare herself. Such a shame, she thought, that he wouldn’t be eligible to adopt a Little for several years. He was taking to the role wonderfully, even at this early stage. Still holding Jamie by the hand, who by now has assumed the timid demeanor of a child in trouble, Leon opens the door and gently guides her in. The school nurse, seated at her desk and tapping away at her computer, no doubt updating the student medical files with their new Classifications, looks up at the newcomers. “Well, I thought all the new Littles had already all been seen,” she says in a friendly manner as she gets up and approaches Leon and Jamie. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this over with as soon as possible. Can I please see your Classifications so I know what to get you?” Leon goes first, showing his Classification papers. “Uh, I’m just here to help. You know, support my best friend through a tough time?” he says. The nurse smiles warmly at the kindhearted (but acid-tongued) young man just beginning his journey. “I can already see that you’re going to be a wonderful Caregiver, Mr. Black. If you choose to adopt a Little when you’re able, it’s the most wonderful thing. It isn’t always easy, but it is very rewarding,” she says while Leon nods and subtly steps back while nudging Jamie forward. Figuring out that she’ll need to diaper Jamie, based on the crestfallen teenager’s silence and very noticeable desire to hide, she feels a great swell of pity for the cute redheaded girl. The nurse loved caring for Littles, but seeing them on Classification Day, when they had just had their entire lives upended and their futures rewritten, stolen, some would say, was the absolute worst part of the job. It killed Caregivers like herself to see these kids at this moment, when they needed a hug the most but were still too proud or angry to accept it. “Thank you, Mr. Black, I’ll take it from here. If you could wait outside and close the door, I’ll have your friend ready to go in no time at all. Isn’t that right, Ms…..” Jamie stood silently before realizing that was her cue to speak. “Oh...um…H-Holbrook. J-Jamie Holbrook” she says as she raises her arm to hand over her Classification paperwork. Jamie breaks down in tears and confesses “I’m a Little….” The Nurse’s Caregiver skills and instincts are so finely tuned she has Jamie wrapped in a hug before she can finish her statement, hoping to head off a major breakdown. Jamie does not resist, instead returning the Nurse’s gesture. “Hey, hey, it’s ok, sweetheart, it’s ok. I know everything seems so hard right now, and you may not believe me, but it does get better. It really does, I promise you.” The Nurse takes a look at the shaking, sobbing teenager’s paperwork while still holding on to her. She raises an eyebrow at the unusual Classification results. “A Hybrid? I’m sure that’s very confusing, but it’s not unheard of. Now, let’s get you all set, I imagine you’d like to get home and get some rest, hmm? It’s been a pretty big day after all, but it’s almost over. All the buses will have left by the time we’re done here, so do you have a way to get home safely?” the Nurse asks as she disengages the embrace and takes a step back to size up Jamie. She measures the new Little visually to see what size and style of diaper is right for her. Managing to bring her sobbing under control, Jamie answers the Nurse’s question. “Uh…yeah. M-my friend, Leon, he’s who I came in with. He…he picks me up for school and takes me home. He’s…he’s really good to me. I uh, I don’t have a driver’s license.” The Nurse steps over to a cabinet and opens it. Predictably, it is filled with various kinds of diapers in various sizes. She continues the conversation as she starts extracting various supplies. “Well, that’s for the best. All Littles have their driver’s licenses rescinded when they register as Littles, so that’s one less thing for you to worry about. Okay sweetheart, I need you to get your shoes and pants off, then hop up here so we can get this done” she says, patting the examination table and holding a plain white diaper that Jamie did not doubt would fit her perfectly. “FUCK! This is it!” Jamie thinks to herself as her fight or flight response chooses flight. She backs away from the table, stammering. “W-w-w-wait…just….just a minute…..” she squeaks out. They always did this, every one, every time. As soon as that diaper comes into play, the desperation kicks in. The Nurse sighs, her heart aching for this scared young girl. Still, she didn’t have time for this. “Jamie, honey, I know that this is really upsetting, but I also know that you know that this is going to happen, one way or another. Think of your friend, Leon. Do you really want to have an accident in his car while he’s taking you home, after he’s been so good to you and helped you get through today?” Jamie, threatened with the diaper, jumps at the Pull Up. “I know…it’s just….I’m not ready. I know everyone says that, but….can…can I have a Pull Up instead?” Jamie asks. “Jamie, your Classification is as a Level 2 and 3 Hybrid. We don’t know which aspects are going to be at what levels. It’s too early to say what kind of protection you’ll need, if any. I just want to play it safe, and start at the top. If it’s more than you need, you can step down to something lighter, and there won’t be any messes to clean up. Work with me here, sweetie. These are actually really soft and comfortable once you get used to them. I have to get SOMETHING on your bottom before you can go” the Nurse reasons, trying to lower Jamie’s anxiety before she suffers an embarrassing accident. “I know….I know, you’re right. It’s…just…can’t we go in the opposite direction? Start at the bottom with what goes on my bottom, and I can go up if I need it? I’ll clean up any messes, honest,” she pleads. The Nurse finds what Jamie says next absolutely soul crushing. “Please…please let me pretend I’m still a big girl for a little while longer…” The Nurse’s Caregiver instincts take over, seeing a way for Jamie to salvage at least some dignity from the situation while still getting the adequate protection the redheaded Little requires. “Ok Jamie, we’ll do things your way,” she says, seeing Jamie’s expression brighten just a little bit by the Nurse letting her have her way. “Here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to give you a Pull Up, and I want you to put it on. While you’re doing that, I’m going to put a little starter kit together for you. I’ll give you a few diapers, some Pull Ups, wipes, and powder. This will give you a better idea of what you’ll need when you go to the Little supply store. You can wear what you want, but promise me that if those Pull Ups aren’t enough, you’ll change into a diaper. Tonight, when you go to bed, I want you to strongly consider a diaper. Most Littles need more protection during the night, so please just work with me here, ok honey?” Jamie nods eagerly, ready to comply if it will keep her out of diapers for even a few more hours. She hops up on the examination table, and begins to untie her shoes. As she kicks off her sneakers, the Nurse wordlessly glides by and places an unfolded Pull Up on the table, remaining close in the event her aid is required. Jamie stands, and unbuttons her pants before sliding them down her legs, leaving her in just her t-shirt, socks, and panties. Jamie picks up the clean white Pull Up and examines it, but can’t quite figure out which side goes in the back. She looks to the Nurse, her expression asking for help. “It’s like this, this mark here on the waistband goes in the back, and the longer parts of the stretchy sides are also meant to go in the back, see?” She says before continuing her lesson on basic Pull Up features. “The seams on the side are tear-away, so it’s easy to take off once it gets wet.” She runs her hands up through the leg holes, and stretches the absorbent underpants out while kneeling down. “Now, take off your panties, and step in, please” Still preferring this to an outright diapering, Jamie slips her underwear down her legs and steps into the Pull Up. The Nurse slides it up her legs, and pulls it up tight against Jamie’s petite frame. She then shows the Ginger Little how to run her fingers along the leak guards to make sure those are sitting properly. Jamie is mortified, but complies nonetheless, knowing what the alternative is. “There we are, all snug and protected, as all Littles should be,” the Nurse says with a smile as Jamie bashfully examines her new underwear and moves to get accustomed to the feel. “Feels like…like a really big pad,” Jamie says, wincing. “Still, it’s not so bad. You were right, it does feel really soft.” “See? I told you it would be ok.” the Nurse says as Jamie pulls her jeans back on over the Pull Up and buttons her pants. She then picks her shoes up and finds a chair, and quickly slips them back on before tying the laces. As she is busy with her shoes, the Nurse comes over with a box. “4 Pull Ups and 4 diapers in your size, powder, and wipes. You will need to get to a Little supply store and get some diapers either tomorrow or the next day. I know this seems like a lot, but it can run out really fast if your potty control slips too far, and the Pull Ups aren’t enough. So once you have a general idea of what you need, get to the store, ok honey?” the Nurse tells a furiously blushing Jamie as she hands the box over. As Jamie turns to finally leave, the Nurse has one last thing for the new Little: a red lollipop. “Here, take this as a reward for not fussing too much, I promise it will make you feel better. You can even have it right now,” guessing from Jamie’s shy behavior that she will be the kind of Little that likes to be given permission. Jamie takes the lollipop and thanks the Nurse for her help. She’s still embarrassed to have been essentially diapered by the gentle Caregiver, but knows that in the back of her mind, in the places she rarely has the bravery to go, she’s right. She unwraps her reward and begins to suck on the sweet red candy, and in spite of herself, must admit that it is both very tasty and is already beginning to calm her frayed nerves as she moves to exit the office and rejoin Leon. What she does not know is that the candy is actually laced with a mild anti-anxiety medication meant to calm new Littles on this, the first day of their new lives, and make them better able to handle the difficult conversations and harsh truths that are to come.

Hope you enjoy this story I created back in 2023. At that time in my life I was going through a breakup and finding Mommies online. Lately I’ve been getting back into reading diaper stories and I wanted to share my own. Rereading it has been baffling with some mistakes I’ve found, but my battles with dyslexia is real since with my regular job has me staring at Excel spreadsheets all day. This 6 part story has been on Fet for a while I never really got any feedback I was hoping for besides couple of hearts. I’ve been contemplating picking the pen back up. Enjoy 😁 —————————————- Four contracts in one day. I was pooped. As I finish off my work week on Friday afternoon I begin to pack up my things to head home. The Wi-Fi in my apartment died the night before so I was forced to go into the office. Usually, we only are required to come into the office on Tuesdays and Wednesdays so the office was a ghost town on Friday. Since I knew that the office would be barren I thought now would be a good time to have some fun and go to the office in my favorite Tykable diaper. Before I left in the morning I even through a booster pad during my change since I knew I would use it to its max. Before I shutdown my laptop I wished Vanna (the girl from Marketing two floors above me) goodbye via our chat on Teams(internal company messaging). Before she could reply I closed my laptop and stuffed my notepads in my backpack. As I stand up the unmistakable sound of a badge scanning the door beeped and the door popped open. My eyes raced over to see who was there since nobody had scanned in all day. In came Vanna from Marketing and my heart jumped to my throat. Vanna was a self-made woman who took no shit from anyone. If you worked with her you would not find a more loyal and determined colleague, but if you were on the opposite side of that coin then she would either eviscerate you or roll right over you. She was 31 and never mentioned anything about relationships or social life. She was a mystery besides her loving cat that she had framed all around her office. Her passion has always been her work. Like everything in life there are two sides to every story, little did I know her determination at work was only a fraction of what truly made Vanna her wonderful self. Vanna was an absolute bombshell of a woman who looked like she inspired Victoria to start having secrets. She had an hour glass body frame that she never used to her advantage in her ruthless climb of the corporate ladder. I was easily head over heels for this woman but I couldn't find a way to express this to her. Now this Goddess was looking right at me and all I could think was, "How do I get out of this?" My heart raised as I shift in my chair resulting in crinkles for all to hear in the ghost town office space. As she walked through the door reality hit me hard and fast. There was nobody on my floor besides me and I'd been sitting in a soaking wet diaper that I could even smell while I was working. The combination of being alone and smelling like a wet toddler made my heart race as she came closer and closer. "Hey Frankie" Vanna sang out as she walked over to my cube. Luckily I had my do not disturb drawer pulled out that blocked others from entering my cube. This was done strategically earlier so no one could see me humping my chair making cummies in my diaper like a dirty baby. She noticed the block and made hand gesture like she was going to leave and catch up with me later. I sprung out of my chair like someone threw hot coals down my back to greet her and tell her to come by. She turned around and approached my cube while I came to terms with what I just did. "How are things on the smelly 2nd floor?" She said waving her hand back and forth as if she had smelt a soaked baby boy. "Ha, no change from the usual. Hey, I thought you worked from home on Fridays." She rolled her eyes," Ya I'm closing this giant deal and all my colleagues are too scared to make moves without me so they keep pestering me. I come in when it is quiet and I can get work done." Vanna looks me up and down, "Oh, is that a new shirt?" Confusion hit me like a ton of bricks because I rarely buy new clothing. What is she getting at? She was staring directly at my waste line so I began scanning my waistline wondering what she could be referring to. Then...I saw it. One of the wing tips from my diaper was poking out from my Hawaiian shirt that I was wearing specifically so this WOULD NOT happen. In an instant I felt all of my blood rush to my feet. I was frozen with embarrassment as I tried to muster a response. "AHHUH, ya it's new and I haven't taken the tag off," I said as I tried to shift around in my seat to make this "new tag" shift under my clothes. "Well it looks like the purchase has been finalized, lets get that tag off." Before I could react Vanna slithered past my useless pullout drawer that was supposed to keep others out and grabbed the wing of my diaper with pinpoint accuracy. She moved so fast that I had no time to react. When she pulled it and the "tag" didn't come off but instead got bigger, she let out an audible gasp. My face was now on fire as she began to put together what she just discovered. Here I am staring at the most sought-after woman in the company and she just realizing that I am in a diaper. "Is...Is that a DIAPER?!" She asked. My jaw literally hit the floor as I contemplated jumping up to running out the door. As I tried to form words all I could do was breathe heavier and heavier until it sounded like I was running half marathon. "And is that stale smell I'm sensing coming from...YOU?!" The sound of my heart pounding was all I could hear and it felt like I was on a wooden rollercoaster with my adrenaline going through the roof. "Are you wet? Are you peeing right now??" I braced my chair, "NO! I...we are so close to the bathroom." She cut me off, "You bring up a good point. You are close to the bathroom and yet here you are in a diaper." As she said "diaper" I could feel the blood start to pump in a very focused direction. My squishy wet diaper began to have solid formation that was poking towards the voluptuous figure in front of me. How could I be aroused in a time like this? As I shifted around to hide the tent currently being pitched in my pants the sounds of a crinkly diaper emerged. Vanna giggles, "OMG you crinkle!!" She said as her face lit up. She covered her face and pointed at me as she started to laugh. The excitement I felt from her pointing out my diaper suddenly went away in one heartbeat. It dawned on me that my chances with this incredible woman of my dreams were now shattered. "Why would any woman want to be with a 33-year-old stuck in diapers?" was the thought that was shooting across my mind. Vanna continued laughing as she turned her head to soak in what she was witnessing. A feeling of hopelessness came over me as she turned away to compose herself. My vision started to become blurry as tears began to overrun my eyes. As she turned back around my head started to sink into my chest as a low sob began to slip from my lips. "Ohhhh noo...Frankie!" she expelled as she started to move closer to me. I felt her hand gently rube across my arm and another caress my cheek. "I'm so sorry you poor little thing." The tone of her voice hit my ears which unlocked a feeling of comfort that is rarely felt outside of a loving mother/son relationship. This juxtaposition of feelings was so extreme that it caused me to lose focus for a second. Her hand continued down my cheek to the back of my neck which sent shivers down my spine. In a moment of euphoria I felt this genuine sense of vulnerability as I looked into Vanna's mystical eyes. It triggered a warm sense of love and security that I hadn't felt before in years. I never wanted this feeling to go away as I lost myself in this paradise. It was so intense that I could feel the warmth building inside until I noticed another warm spot but it coincided with giant wet spot on my pants. "OH MY GOODNESS FRANKIE!" I open my eyes and Vanna is right in front of me hands over her mouth as she looks at the very visible stain on my jeans. My vision became blurry again as the levey broke in my eye ducts. Vanna grabbed my chin and made me look into her eyes. "Do you want me to find a way to make things better for you?" My head began to bounce up and down as my noise began to bubble up in conjunction with my eyes cascading tears. Vanna took my hand and said, "Ok baby, you are going to follow me ok?" She grabbed my hand and pulled me up from my chair where she threw a jacket around my waist. "Everything is going to be ok you just need to follow me and do as I say ok?" I nod my head again and try to prepare for the unexpected.

Long long long time reader, first time posting my stuff. I have very short stories of little scenes here and there. Here is my newest one. The formatting won’t be the best. ———————— Captives Two woman and a man sat restrained to their chairs. Each with a gag in their mouth, muffled screams can be heard echoing in the tiny room in which they were captive. White walls all around, it was a boring room. 2 doors on either side of the captives adorned the walls. The one they were dragged into, and a mysterious door. Soft bells could be heard if you listened closely. Twisting and turning, each captive struggled to get free, muffled cries crafted a cacophony of struggle. Suddenly, the door that was not used before opened. The sounds stopped as the click clack of heels pierced the silence. A giantess of a woman stepped through the door and the captives froze. Never before had they seen such an entrancing figure. A tight black dress hugged her curvy body, her breasts voluptuous and firm, she walked in a way that let you know: she was in charge. The silence was broken by a maternal, yet teasing voice: “Hellooooooo little ones!” She smiles a devious smile. The captives were not ammused by the sing songy voice of their captor. “Looks like you have explored the wrong facility. We caught you on camera about a mile before you got to our gates” The blood rushed out of their faces. They didn‘t expect anything here. Rumors spoke of an old abandoned building in the forest that played soft lullaby music. They say those that go in never come out…. but they all assumed it was a childrens tale… until now. Each chair was on wheels, so one by one they were wheeled into the next room. The struggling stopped, replaced by fear of what would happen next. The next room looked like a preschool classroom. Rectangular with waist high shelves of coloring books, toys and stuffed animals. Along the back right half of the wall, there was a rectangular window with a door to the right of it. Above the door was a sign: INITIATION In the window was a table with a screen above it As if she felt the mood change to confusion, the Mistress explained: “This will be out first stop. Initiation. You see, this is a special facility. Meant to take you back to a simpler time.” She chuckles as she scans the three captives Blonde had heard enough. She didn’t want to be part of any sort of cult. She struggled harder against her restraints. “But i won’t bore you with the details. You..” she turns her full attention to Blonde as the struggle gets more intense. The other two started to struggle a little more. “Look like you are VERY excited to get started. Why don’t we start with you” Blonde shook her head in fear. She pushed against her restraints to no avail as she was wheeled into the initiation room. The door slammed shut, leaving the other two waiting. The room blonde found herself in looked much like a medical examining room, complete with the table. Before she could examine anything else her restraints let loose. She immediately tried to book it for the door, but was swiftly picked up by the armpits. “Ah ah ahhhh.. you can’t go that way little one! I know you miss your friends but you’ll see them soon enough.” The Mistress carried blonde over to the table and effortlessly retrained her to the table. Her clothes were fully removed. Naked and gagged, she was helpless to do anything. The Mistress then did something Blonde didn’t expect: She removed the gag. “YOU BITCH LET ME GO” she screamed The Mistress just ignored her and started to press some buttons on a panel. The screen lit up. “Please watch the entirety of the video while I prepare you” “Prepare me for what?!” The blonde screamed. The screen started to change colors, grabbing the attention of Blonde. The mistress said something but she couldn’t quite hear her. The colors changed from blue to green and to pink. Blonde couldn’t take her eyes away. Suddenly she felt her butt being lifted up. Something soft cushioned it as it came back down. It felt nice. Blondes thoughts were hazy. She tried to remember how she got here, but it was all dark and gray. Suddenly, her head started to hurt. She screamed in agony as her mind became a bright white light. She felt wetness coming from her crotch…:was she peeing herself? The wetness seemed to be contained around her crotch. Warmth. Her screamed echo’d as the colors changed faster, her eyes wide open. Pain, agony, fear. “AHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEAASSSSEEEE STOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHAAA……” The screaming stopped as something entered her mouth. “There there little one” the Mistress coo’d. “Go ahead and suck on your pacifier” The feeling was almost instant. Her brain went from white to shiny colors. Her screams died down into wails. That of a baby. [[pretty…. Colors…. Playtime!!]] Blonde started to giggle as her mind emptied. Everything started to empty. She squirmed and giggled as her diaper filled with the excrements of her old life. “Such a good girl!” The mistress adored. She patted the front of blondes diaper and removed the restraints. Blonde stayed there, giggling and babbling “AH! AH AH AH AH!” She babbled on, as the mistress gathered changing supplies. ———- The door to the initiation room slammed shut and the window suddenly became a mirror. Screams could be heard from the room shortly after but the two remaining captives couldn’t tell what they were about. A soft lullaby played over the speakers. The remaining two sat there, pacified by the music, unable to move or think. The door opens. The Mistress walks out, holding blonde against her bussoms. Walking toward the other side of the room, the mistress places Blonde on the ground with a soft thump and a crinkle. The two captives see Blonde, drooling with a paci, and fear runs down their spine. A muffled cry “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER” and slamming of feet. Blonde, naked except a diaper and a pacifier, rolled back onto her back and started playing with her feet. Tears streamed down Browns face. Her best friend. Her sister… transformed into a dumb drooling baby. “YOUR TURN!” The mistress exclaims from behind her. Her chair is jolted forward towards the room. She screams behind her gag, shaking her head. “No no no noooooooooo!!!!” On the table, easily restrained like the other, Brown finds herself ungagged. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?? I’m NOT A BABY!!” Mistress chuckles to herself as she presses a few buttons. The screen jumps to life and Browns attention is immediately drawn. “Please….” She whispers, drowsily… “I DON’T …” She screams in pain. Her brain goes white. The diaper is slipped under her with ease as a stream of urine spurts out. Browns struggles ease as the diaper is pulled between her legs and taped. “Noooooo…..” Brown started to whine. “Nooo die-peeeeeee” she started to wail as she kicked her legs. The mistress pulls out another pacifier and shoves it in browns mouth. [[huh?]] Was her last adult thought. Her brain starts to see the flashing colors in front of the screen. She started to calm down. “Gah gah gaaaahahhhhhhhhhh hehehehehe” Brown was lost. Her bowels and bladder emptied into her diaper, as well as her adulthood. “Such a good girl” the mistress said, grabbing the changing supplies —————- The door to the initiation room opened to giggles as Brown was carried out! “SEE! “ the mistress exclaimed with a chuckle,” that wasn’t so bad was it?” She plops Brown next to Blonde, who moved over to the dolls and was now brushing one. Brown crawls over and grabs her own doll. Silver was in shock. His two best friends sat before him, naked and in diapers, acting like nothing in the world was wrong. He had to escape…. He saw the mistress catch his eye and he growled. “Uh ohhhh” the mistress chuckled taking her gaze a little lower. Looks like someone had an accident. Confused, Silver looked down. His pants were soaked. [[wait… what… when did i?]] “Looks like SOMEONE really enjoyed his lullaby.” He blushed and started to whimper. Who was this lady? She walks over to him and kneels down to his level. “I have something special for you little one” she said, not breaking eye contact.” She undid his restraints. [[RUN]] his brain thought Only his body didn’t cooperate. The gag was then removed. He wanted to scream. He wanted to bite… but he couldn’t. No matter how hard he told his body to do something, it wouldn’t. “Good boy.” She said as she grabbed his hand. “What are you doing to meee” Silver asked, childishly. “You see, that lullaby you heard has some special properties” she started to explain as she placed a mat on the ground. She the knelt down and started undoing his belt. Silver whines but couldn’t do much else” “Noo stoooop” “Now now young man. You had an accident! We have to get you in proper attire if you are gonna be doing THAT!” She yanked down his pants and underwear in one fell swoop, emphasizing the word at the end of her sentence. His arms wanted to cover his crotch, but he found his hand instinctively move toward his face. His thumb found it’s way into his mouth. “I’m nottah bah bae” he mumbled behind his thumb. The mistress had him step out of his pants. A cold wipe was applied around his crotch and buttocks. “If you aren’t a baby…” the mistress lectured as she cleaned the man off “ then why didn’t you use the big boy potty when you were supposed to?” He knew the answer [[because you had me tied up you bitch]] he thought But his mouth just said “i dunnoooo” “That’s what i thought” the mistress said, pushing on his chest. Silver fell onto his back with a thud. His legs immediately sprawling out. He tried to get up, he fought with ever ounce of his being. But nothing happened. “So we are just gonna have to put you back in diapers!” Mistress exlaimed, causing the two regressed women to giggle. They crawled and mad their way to Silver, plopping down next to him. His face was flush with red heat as his entire legs were hoisted into the air, a thick baby blue diaper was slid under silver. His legs came down and kicked only slightly. “The mistress grabbed a white container and started to sprinkle powder on Silvers crotch.” It was around this point he started to hear the lullaby again, but he wasn’t sure id it was in his head or the speakers. Rubbing his crotch, silver let out a slight giggle. “Hehe that tickles, mommy!” He heard himself say, involuntarily. [[MOMMY? No… i gotta fight…]] The diaper was brought up between his legs and taped tightly into place. Silver was back in diapers. “Now, i have a special treat for you little one” she leaned silver up. He swayed groggily on his padded butt, his thumb falling from his mouth. Drool started to form at the corners. [[AHH COME ON MOVE GOD DAMIT]] he thought “Now, i know you appear to be all cute and obedient on the outside.” She said as she tugged on the front if her dress, pulling out one of her massive boobs. “But i know on the inside….”she taps his forehead “..:You need some adjusting” His mouth hicced a little as he saw her boob come out. [[Come on come on…. Get up GET UP]] He felt the drool fall down his chin, his eyes affixed on her breast. It was getting closer, although he wasn’t sure if he was being guided or moving on his own. He found himself cradled in her lap. “Now go ahead and take some of mommies milk” she said as she thrust her nipple into the drooly mouth. [[Nooooo… please no… not this…. ]] he thought as the pieces fell in place. She was gonna breastfeed him. involuntarily, silver latched. Milk immediately filled his mouth. His first thought was [[oh?]] It was tasty. He swallowed and it was like something in him grew. [[ oh man it’s so much… what’s happening to me?]] His thoughts started to fade. His memories were going grey. His stomach was filling with milk. [[…. No… i have to… ]]] he immediately thought about punching the woman in the face. For the first time in a while his arm moved on hismown accord, but stopped short when his hand grabbed the boob. [[ what was i doing?]] *Suck* *suck* *swallow* [[ i wanna go home.]] *suck* *suck* *swallow* [[oh god… i have to… NO!!!!!]] . The sound of his diaper being filled erupted in the room. He greedily started sucking more [[MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY KOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY]] Silver started to coo. His mind lost. All three adults now sat in the playroom, slowly filled up with the Mistresses milk, sending them into eternal regression. Never to be seen again.

This is chapter one of an ongoing, collaborative story written by me and my friend, BoysRBabies. We are writing alternating chapters—I wrote this first one. We will publish the whole story here, posting a new chapter every week or two. BoysRBabies posts fantastic captions of forced regression on Tumblr. I publish stories of diapers and domination on Smashwords. Hope you all enjoy it! Chapter 1 Tyler swerved his Range Rover around a slow-moving clump of cars. They clogged up the fast lane. And the middle lane. And would have blocked him in the slow lane, too, if he'd let them. Didn't people have any place to be on a Monday morning? He shot the pack leader his best disapproving look as he passed. The middle-aged man gripped the steering wheel of his middle-aged sedan. Hands at 10 and 2. A dopey half-smile on his face. Completely oblivious. "We won't get there any faster if we're dead," Monica said. Her knuckles were pale white against the black leather console. So dramatic. Always so dramatic. "We won't get there at all at this rate," he said. She shook her head. "What?" "Nothing." "It's obviously not nothing." He sighed and eased back on the throttle, shifting back into the middle lane. "There. Happy?" Her eyes had that watery, verge-of-tears look. The look that could spill over into full-blown crying if he said the wrong thing. Or if he didn't say the right thing. Or didn't say anything at all. He reached over and covered her hand with his. "A few days of Mai Thais and sugar sand and you'll feel better. Promise." She slid her hand out from under his and put it in her lap. "You think that will fix anything?" "Who said anything needs to be fixed?" She stared ahead silently. "Come on, Mon? Martinique? St. Lucia? Making love on the beach?" He leaned closer and grinned. Maybe we can try that thing again. With my finger?" Her frown deepened. "So we aren't even going to talk about it." He pulled back into his seat. "Seriously? You're blowing the whole thing out of proportion. It was an offhand remark. No big deal. Just guy talk. Besides, you know, maybe you shouldn't…" He shrugged. "I shouldn't what?" Her tone was icy. Careful. "I'm just saying, if you hadn't been listening in on my conversation in the first place, you wouldn't be so upset." She laughed. A shrill, short bark of a laugh. God, he hated that sound. "So this is my fault, Tyler?" "There's no fault here, but yeah, maybe you should respect my privacy a bit more." He pulled off the highway onto the exit ramp. A few minutes later than he'd hoped to be, but still on time as long as they didn't hit any traffic. "Do you have any idea how loud you are on the phone? Stomping around the house, yelling at people? How am I supposed to know if you're talking to one of your minions or Connor, or—" she stopped herself and put her hands up in surrender. "Doesn't matter." He suppressed a smile. She was coming around. She always did. She just needed to vent. Get it out of her system. Then they could move on. "Like I said, let's just enjoy the trip, then we can talk about all of it again when we get home. If you still want to." "Fine." Her tone was flat. She stared straight ahead, hands in her lap. Far from a victory, but he'd take a brief ceasefire when he could get one. Especially these days. And who knows, maybe she really would forget about it. The salty tang of ocean air seeped in through the vents. He glanced down at the GPS. Almost there. Park the car. Board the ship. Make sure their bags were in the room. …and that was it. Nothing more to do after that. He could almost taste the gin and tonic now. He pulled into a massive parking lot five minutes later and began working his way down the rows. "Aren't you going to park?" she asked, pointing to several empty spots they passed. "Connor says he's--" "Connor?" Shit. Should have waited until they were parked and standing outside. She wouldn't make a scene in front of Connor. Or at least not in front of Kari. "I told him and Kari about the fabulous deal we got." "They're coming with us?" "They've been needing to get away too. You know, after the acquisition and all that stuff? One thing led to another, and they decided to pick up tickets too." "So even your little apology trip was self-centered." She laughed. "You're making this so much easier. I guess I should be grateful for that." "Easier?" He pulled in next to Connor's Audi. She sure didn't seem to be making anything easier on him. No response. "Mon?" She pulled out her phone and began texting someone. "Hey, listen to me. How is taking you on a cruise with our friends self-centered? It would be self-centered not to tell our friends about this." It also wasn't an 'apology trip,' he wanted to say. But if it made her feel better to think about it that way, so be it. "Your friends," she said, not looking up from her text. "Not mine." Kari rapped on his window and smiled. "One sec," Tyler said. "She just needs to wrap this up." He glared over at her. "I guess." She slipped the phone back into her purse. "Done now?" She nodded. Her expression was unreadable. "Play nice," Tyler said. "It's gonna be a long week if you don't." He got out of the car and gave Kari a hug. Connor was pulling luggage out of the trunk. "Why'd you park way out here?" Tyler asked him. Connor grinned. "Boo-hoo. Leg day yesterday, princess?" "There's a bus," Kari said. "Right, baby?" "Right," Connor said. "Every few minutes. Takes us right to the boat." He closed the trunk. "Here it comes." Tyler turned to see a bus wending its way through the parking lot. It looked more like a school bus than the type of bus you usually see rental car companies and hotels using. Monica got out of the car and stood next to him. "Hi, Kari." "Hey, hon," Kari said back. Best friends they were not, but the two had gotten along better recently. If nothing else, he suspected they bitched about him and Connor. Which was fine. Or at least preferable to listening to all of her complaints himself. He popped the trunk and began stacking their luggage on the pavement. Connor stood there frowning. "What?" Tyler asked. Connor shrugged. "Bus just passed a whole bunch of people." The bus had skipped several groups of passengers, some of whom stood by their cars, looking at the departing vehicle in confusion. "Whatever," Tyler said. "As long as it stops for us." He'd bought the all-inclusive package, so it damn well better stop. He closed the trunk. A moment later, the bus did stop for them. A woman stepped out. Tall, with dark hair pulled into a tight bun. "Monica Howard?" Monica smiled. "That's me." Well that was odd. He'd arranged the whole trip. Why would they know—or care—who she was? He stepped forward. "You have someone to help load our luggage?" She walked past him without so much as a glance. He stomped around in front of her, putting himself between her and Monica. "Hey? Hello? What's your name?" "You have all of the paperwork?" the woman asked Monica. "Paperwork?" Tyler snapped. "That's all been done for weeks. You aren't listening to me." He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Hello? Paying customer here." Monica handed the woman a sheaf of papers. "I want to speak to your manager. What's your employee numb…" the words died in Tyler's throat. "What is all that?" He turned towards the woman. "What's going on here?" "Tyler, this is Holly," Monica said. Holly looked at him for the first time, then back at Monica again. No service worker had ever looked at him like that before. A brief, piercing glare, followed by…complete disinterest. "Okay," he said. "So what? Are you the bus driver or…" "No," Holly said. "Someone explain what the fuck is going on," he snapped. "Holly is from ABC," Monica said. "Is that some sort of holding company for the cruise line?" He looked down at his watch. "One hour. The ship departs in one hour. Someone better—" "You might not know the ABC name, but you know what we do," Holly said. He throws up his hands. "Oh, it speaks. Finally." He expected a glare. Or better yet, a retreat and an apology, as she realized who she'd pissed off. Instead, more disinterest. "ABC runs male regression centers across the United States and Canada." "Male regression centers?" He vaguely remembered reading about them in an article a few years back. In fact, it had been all over the news for a bit. Highly controversial. And easy fodder for Buzzfeed listicles and late-night talk hosts. Putting grown men in diapers and bonnets and calling it therapy? Sounded like some touchy-feely, West Coast bullshit. "That's what I said," Holly replied. "Okay. So what?" He tapped his watch and looked at Monica. "We're not going on a cruise," Monica said quietly. "You're going to a regression center." Tyler laughed. "Connor? This was your idea, right? Where's the camera?" He looked around. Probably Mark. Or that cousin of Connor's—Jimmy? Johnny? Something like that. That guy was constantly posting stuff like this on Youtube. Connor stared at him, his face ashen. "Dude, jokes over," Tyler said. His voice was barely audible, each word coming out slowly and with great effort. "You got your laughs." "It's not a joke," Monica said. He whirled on her. "You're crazy if you think I'm going anywhere. And dumber than I thought." She winced. "You're coming with me to the center, Tyler," Holly said. "Oh yeah?" He eyed her up and down. "Hope you brought some muscle." "I did." God, still so calm. Like she'd done this a thousand times. He wanted to scream at her. Shake her. Get some sort of normal human response. "But I hope we won't need it," she continued. She held up a piece of paper from the sheaf Monica had given her. "Do you know what this is?" "I'm going to take your ass to court, lady. Make me miss my cruise?" He shook his head. "I'll fucking own your company. You'll be working for me in a year." He spun on Monica. "And you--" Holly cleared her throat. "It's called a Blue Slip. It remands you to our custody for a period of not less than one month." "Let me see that," he said. He snatched the paper out of her hand and scanned the legalese for a few seconds, then crumpled it up and then tossed it to the ground. "I think we both know that's not how that works," Holly said. "We have copies on hand at the center. You can read them there if you want. But I assure you, all the i's have been dotted and t's crossed. The request received the full committee's support." "Committee? What committee?" "We can take about that later. It's time to get on the bus." Monica had tears in her eyes. She stepped closer, arms open. "Unh uh." He shook his head slowly. "You stay away from me." He looked over at Connor. "Bro, you gotta get me out of this. Please?" Connor just stared. Holly took his elbow. "Up into the bus now, okay? Pretty soon you'll be settled in and all of this stress will be behind you." She guided him towards the bus. He walked along beside her, mind reeling. The bus doors swung open. He turned around. "My suitcase. I need my clothes." "That's all been taken care of, Tyler," Holly said. Her tone was soft now. Almost soothing. "But—" "Don't worry about that. Don't worry about anything." Tyler glanced at Monica one last time, then stepped up into the bus.

Who do you think you're kidding? Do you really think you're big and have control? Mommy knows precisely who you are and where you belong. In DIAPERS!! You may show you're big on the outside, but we know who you really are on the inside. Maybe you're a baby needing the comfort and security of soft, thick, thirsty diapers, or maybe you're a diaper lover wanting or NEEDING the comfort and excitement of a diaper to make you feel like you. All your dreams and goals are possible, and you can live the healthy, well-balanced life you always dreamt of. Never be afraid to be the person you truly are. We're here to help. My little one and I have developed an interactive, 24/7 diaper-dependent training program using the Virtual Master program. This interactive, virtual diaper-dependent training script of over 1300 pages leads you through the latest natural systematic conditioning and behavior modification techniques to facilitate diaper dependency and incontinence. It's a lifestyle script that takes you on a journey toward your goal of diaper dependency and a well-balanced lifestyle through daily interactions. YES! You can be diaper dependent! YES! You can wear and use diapers in any and every situation. Millions of others do it every day, and you can be one of them IF you decide this is truly who you want to be. You CAN create the life you want. It takes effort. It takes time. And it takes the guidance you need when you need it. Our program uses a reward and punishment system that is customized to you to ensure you are compliant. You can fully customize the script to meet your needs and desires. Customized options include the type of incontinence desired (bowel, bladder, or both), adult baby or diaper lover, gender, gender preference, your current bladder capacity, your level of privacy, sexual or non-sexual content, adapts to your personal work schedule, home tasks, marital status, the availability of a helper to keep you accountable, diet restrictions you have, weight loss goals if you wish, the level of exposure risk level you're willing to take and much, much more. This is truly a one-of-a-kind program. There is no other comprehensive, interactive program like this available. So let Mommy give you the 24/7 guidance you need to meet your goals. The programs require Microsoft Windows; however, instructions are available for its use using Linux Mint 20.1 Mate if needed. You will receive an encrypted version of the script/program that can not be viewed or altered. The Virtual Master program and scripts are beta programs and will contain errors. Every effort is made to eliminate the mistakes. Assistance is always welcome to identify errors and inconsistencies or aid future script development. We are excited to announce the addition of major improvements to the program. Among the list, each program now features innovative, advanced control of users' toilets and access to their diapers via locking plastic pants, utilizing Mommy's KeyVault system. Mommy now goes beyond just telling you not to use the potty and physically restricts use and access until she permits it. You have no choice but to follow her every command. For a complete list of improvements, see below. Go to https://www.etsy.com/shop/LilAgain for more details on the Diaper Dependent training program and Sunshine Junction Daycare program. Let me help make your dreams come true... Mistress Sebrina Diaper Dependent Training Program 2.2 update list: - Repaired bug that didn't discontinue cage use if a helper decided it should continue to be worn and then discontinued it. - Created locking plastic pants punishment and assignment. - Created toilet lock punishment and assignment. - Added signs on the main screen when going to bed to direct user what is to be done. - Fixed errors with going to bed sequence - Fixed error that did not give wear instructions when sub is unable to report upon waking. - Fixed Main screen sign to correspond with sub reply upon waking. - Created Quick Lock and unlock for use of plastic pants at night to ensure compliance. - Revised Going to bed sequence to allow for more accurate use of report upon waking function. - Added audio for Locking plastic pants and toilet lock - Added Program request to change Name and Gender identity - Added job to designate a timeout chair if time out punishments are permitted. - Added additional Audio files - Fixed Grammar and Spelling errors. - New narrative added. Here are a few examples of what you would receive...

Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! Welcome back and I hope everyone had as good of a break as I did! Work was stressful, but it’s always nice to get away for a little bit from trying to meet my own personal deadlines, especially after such a large project as my last two stories were with all the completely new world-building and whatnot. Now, though, it’s just as equally good to be back and writing stories again. That being said, this story has definitely grown over the past two weeks from my original plan. Initially, I fleshed this thing out to be around ten chapters, but soon realized it needed more on my first pass. Seeing a lot was missing from the plot for the type of story I wanted to tell though, the chapter count now stands at 24, but checking out a few later, I can absolutely say that there might be more. As I promised before, since these stories are based on previous works of mine, I will try to include all the stories that might need to be read before this one. As it is a sequel, the primary previous story would be Project Nurture, as several of the characters from there will be mentioned and parts of this story will also align with that one. I would also suggest for more background that The Opening would be helpful as well, as it discusses when the portals first opened and gives some background on the two worlds in general. Lastly, looking at the map of Libertalia (in the Reference Guide) or the DD Timeline might be useful. As I try to do for each of these stories in the DD though, I will try to write most of this where reading them is not required, but as a warning, further details and some plot elements may not be discussed. Next, as is typical these days, I will post the next poll at the start of the following chapter. Since this is only the first DD story, my rule of two won’t apply yet, so I’m thinking I will include two DD and one non-DD story this go-round. So, be on the lookout for that. Also, looking ahead, I’m absolutely tasking myself with writing/editing three chapters a week. That being said, with 24 current chapters and at three a week, this will definitively bump into late May/early June, which means that I will be pausing at least at one point for a multi-day vacation. Considering it’s Florida and I always come back with at least three new story ideas, take comfort in the delay at least for future stories from me. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story! Chapter 1: Hello. Name’s Ashley Cutters, Journalist It’s a small, unassuming house, but within lay so much more, particularly with a fringe member of LRG being tasked to look up the dirty laundry of the government here in Libertalia. Considering all the security measures in place and all the others that had ‘gone missing’ over the years from the organization, Vincent didn’t want to take a chance this time. “Alright… let’s see what we’ve got on the menu tonight…” Vincent was practically licking his lips in anticipation of what he could find in his search of the dark web tonight. “Join the Littles Revolution Group they said… Challenge yourself and change the world!” Vincent couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little at that tagline that had so easily ensnared his wide-eyed and younger and more hopeful self. LRG was a smaller group back then… more manageable and under the radar. Hacking to get free music initially, Victor had stumbled into the law a few times but always managed to get away. After his Little friend got kidnapped though, Victor had turned his attention to LRG and signed up to help after only a week of seeing what they were trying to accomplish. With his skills, incidents like the initial opening of the portals between worlds and the opening of Dark Cliff Prison were almost commonplace stories amongst the more rebellious Little population of Libertalia now. Being a Middle himself meant he was more or less immune from most of the horrors that came with being a Little in this world, but he saw a need and tried to fulfill it for others that definitely couldn’t. Little did he know that path of righteousness and good intentions would lead him here… somewhere in the backwoods of the state of Virgan. It had been a year since he last went to the movies… six months since a bar, and three weeks since even the dinky grocery store just off the main road from here to Columbia. Another LRG got him groceries now… especially after he found some piece about some new drug called ‘FOY’ and was almost immediately flagged and shut down by the Feds. Ever since, he had lived in a state of paranoia… hence the practically ghost cabin set in the middle of nowhere as his main base of operations now. Still, Vincent sighed and tried to think of all this as a game. It had worked in the past when these hacking sessions went into tedious or potentially dangerous places. The FOY thing was great and all no doubt, but… this wasn’t living. He needed something… anything to break up his routine. Maybe he would talk to Carlos the next time he stopped by for a food run about taking a vacation… maybe. Grumbling a little, Vincent shook his head and returned to the monitor as he finished off the last of his cheesy puffs. “Now… what do you have for me tonight?” His thick sausage-like fingers clacked on the keyboard with a rapid regularity that indicated years of practice at this sort of thing. As such, minutes later, Vincent had opened one of the deep web chatrooms like he was simply passing from one room to another. “Let’s see… anything to help LRG pass those restraint laws… equality and all? Anything at all tonight?” Vincent’s eyes strained against the bright screen, but an hour later, despite his impressive and extensive skills, he was still no closer to something definitive to send back. It was just that way sometimes. Yes, there were scores of plans and threats on there, but nothing with substance that could either be classified as reportable or even actionable. Just a bunch of hot air and… “Oh?” Vincent noted with some surprise, leaning in from his wide chair to get a better look at what he was seeing. “What’s this?” The posting was very strange to the point where Vincent even ran a check on it to make sure it was clean and wouldn’t upload a virus or crash his system. He had learned that the hard way back as a junior in high school. Looking more closely, something snagged his attention right away. “Holorecording’s, huh?” Vincent checked the file at least three times just to be sure he was reading it right, but it was confirmed and that piqued his curiosity more than any tagline associated. Vincent knew full-well that Holorecording’s were all the rage years ago, especially when agents of the old academy used to travel to Earth and pluck humans away for testing purposes before the dawn of portal travel and when they exploited soft spots instead. Seeing the ‘.vid.e’ label though, Vincent could already tell that it was the enhanced version instead of the original 2D video like any other old-fashioned video recording. In this case, enhanced meant 3D recordings and possibly sensation feedback and even mental thoughts if he was lucky. Not wanting to turn away now, Vincent clicked into the posting further. A brief description at the title of the page noted something about the files being ‘vital’ and ‘critical to understand.’ Vincent had his doubts about that, especially since 90% of the other posts said that, but he shrugged and kept at it… curious if nothing else over the holorecording file contained within. “Hmmm… seems intriguing enough…” Getting to the main page of the file and knowing what was next, Vincent got up and went to the backroom of the cabin where he stored most of the excess electronics and equipment associated. Looking around, he finally found the box he was looking for, a good layer of dust covering it that had to be blown away first. “Ah. Gotcha! Almost got rid of you last month to store an extra supply of rum in here. Good thing I decided I didn’t need more alcohol here… I guess.” Continuing to dust the box off, Vicent made his way back to the computer before sitting down again and then popping the lid off. Peering inside, he could see the headgear, visor, and even the contacts for one’s temple. “Looks okay… hard to tell really until I actually just go ahead and test this thing out.” Vincent blew a little more dust off and then gently placed the device over his head. Wincing a little at first, he made quick work of the device to relieve the tighter pressure and expand the halo section until it fit his head more comfortably. Taking the attached cord, he blew on it lightly and then hooked the device in. Soon, the screen before him blinked, and Vincent completed the preliminary set up as the newly clicked holorecording files were downloaded onto his server. Applying a little petroleum jelly to the contact points at his temple, he took a breath and looked over the various warnings on the box. “Warning… excessive use can lead to seizure, brain hemorrhage, and even death. Do not use with potentially corrupted files and do not use while alone.” Looking around the empty room, Vincent shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well… can’t stop all the time just because I’m a one-man team up here.” As he clicked on the final steps for downloading the files, Vincent felt a little fear over using this old technology once more. There was a reason for the warnings… why the technology had been dropped in favor of other more recent models here in Libertalia. Newer methods were safer… more legal. Looking around at half the equipment in here used just for pirating signals and hacking into government servers, it might have been an odd fear, but holorecording’s tended to brute-force their way into local servers rather than ask permission at all. It gave the recordings a true 3D experience to the viewer later, but the legality was sketchy at best in court cases, so the technology had largely been dropped in favor of more… legal ways. So, to see it so plainly on here for that fact alone was curious if nothing else. Vincent didn’t want to hope, but there were only so many who used this technology in the past few years… and they were either illegal, which could mean some great dirt on something out there that could hurt the Bigs, or they were less poised with technology, which could mean they were more desperate and likely more interesting. Either way, it boded well for Vincent’s mission and ultimately, LRG. Clicking onto the first recording once it had downloaded, the first screen showed the typical warnings yet again about using this technology, which Vincent promptly clicked through rapidly, understanding the risks… and quickly ignoring them. Next, and most curious, before the instructions, there was a brief blurb about what he was about to watch. It was something about someone named Ashley and this footage found from her imbedded camera. Most fascinating though, although maybe a little worrying or disappointing, it noted that ‘some pieces are missing’ from the recording and it is ‘unknown if they had been deleted by the user’ or were simply ‘too corrupted.’ Either way, Vincent pressed on with curiosity like that of a child potentially finding buried treasure in their backyard. The screen cut away, and then another popped up. “Place device on head now.” Vincent did as he was instructed, and as he remembered from the last time that he used this thing over six years ago now, the visor remained clear so he could see the screen and the next instructions. “Press here to proceed.” A decently sized green button then appeared below. Vincent hovered his mouse over the button, took a deep breath, and pressed it before relaxing back in his chair. * * * Black. Nothing. The screen was just a myriad of inky blackness, punctuated occasionally by a little blip or static on the screen. “Ah, shit!” a male voice called out from the abyss, remaining faceless in the darkened void. “Oh, perfect, Stuart!” a female voice said with a sigh and no small amount of clear frustration. “Just what this footage needs… cursing right from the start! This could be the beginning of some very serious report one day, you know.” “Sorry…” presumably Stuart apologized, grunting a little like he was trying to adjust something. Briefly the edges of the void curled in and flicked with static and a few green, blue, yellow, and red dots… and then pure nothingness once again. “Ugh! I just realized that the audio and video were off before. Now, it’s just the video and I’m…” He grunted again. “Trying to adjust that.” “Well, can you fix it?” the female voice asked, sighing heavily again and now sounding more than a little impatient as well. “This whole plan isn’t going to go very well if this stupid thing doesn’t even wor…!” * * * Day 0 – 12:30 P.M. EDT – Earth The screen cut back, and a white border, like from one of the old video systems, popped on as a frame around the main picture, which wasn’t much more than a computer lab somewhere, punctuated in several spots by at least ten twenty-foot-long sections of three-inch-thick wires. Multiple spots were frayed and pulled apart, while other sections were fully intact. One desk was cluttered with all sorts of odd metallic objects and scraps of wiring, while the other desk appeared to contain some sort of toolset and even a medical diagram of the head and an eyeball… though with something dark right behind the iris in this case. “Okay… that should do it…” a pale and scrawny figure noted, possibly Stuart, now coming into the frame. Unsettlingly in some way, he was looking directly at the camera with a calculating and curious expression. Before becoming too awkward though, he then briefly looked away and back to another monitor just off screen. “Okay… single feed up and running. Blink once for me, will you, Ashley?” The feed momentarily went black before snapping back to its previous image. “Like that, Stuart?” the female voice, presumably Ashley, questioned. This time, instead of one of annoyance, it sounded more hopeful. “Yep. That’s good, Ashley.” Stuart then hopped back and briefly went out of frame behind the monitor on the more crowded desk, and the sounds of clicks and clacks could be heard like he was typing something in. “Okay… now blink three times in succession. This might feel a little weird after, but we need this thing to reach out to other sources if you want more than a single shot from your eye. No point in this level of technology if we can’t get all the angles… just in case.” The feed temporarily dipped down and back up, almost as if Ashley was nodding while holding a camera. Then, the feed blipped out in three short bursts. Suddenly, the feed switched, and the previous single view of the camera now showed something more akin to a 3D image panning around the room. One watching from the outside would have likely felt the sensation that they could touch everything, rather than as if they were just watching a movie. The view shifted more, and more of the room could be seen. Nearby, lying down on an exam chair of sorts, like one would find in any dentist’s office, was a tall and skinny blonde woman, her blouse and slacks contrasting heavily was the disposable bib around her neck. “You good, Ashley? Still with me?” Stuart asked, pressing in on the blonde woman. “Yeah…” Her voice shook a little and her answer was anything but confident. “Just a little… dizzy, I guess?” She patted her eye tenuously and then quickly looked back at her fingers, almost like she was expecting something to be left there. “At least the bleeding’s gone now.” Stuart nodded. “Yeah. Not going to lie… you looked a little grizzly earlier when I was trying to adjust the feed. It looks like the micro surgeons did a great job though. No scarring from what I can see… which is impressive, because… you know… there’s…” He didn’t seem to be able to finish that thought and gestured with his hands awkwardly. His social skills didn’t seem to be one of his strengths, but Ashley only smiled back. “Because there’s a camera embedded in my eye now?” Stuart nodded and she laughed a little. “Yeah… feels strange to say, but you know the Amazon’s technology. It’s decades at least ahead of our own… even now with everything they’ve been trading to us and all the advances we’ve made since the opening of the portals.” “Yeah… this whole place… building and city too… run off what they’ve given us.” Stuart then rolled back to his monitor. Then, without looking back, he cleared his throat. “But also… Bigs.” Ashely looked at him strangely for a moment. “What?” “Bigs…” Stuart noted again. “You called them Amazons. They’re called Bigs. ‘Amazon’ is almost a derogatory word… especially coming from a Little.” “Oh… I completely forgot about that.” Ashley seemed momentarily stunned and nervous for a moment. “Hey… no big deal here, right?” Stuart leaned back over and looked at Ashley with reassuring eyes. “Just… keep it in mind when you’re going over there.” Ashley frowned and then suddenly looked defensive. “What? I’m not… I…” “Fine, fine,” Stuart said, retreating a little bit back to his monitor. “Don’t tell me about your plans with the tech I just helped set up, but I’m just trying to help. Don’t want a smacked bottom two seconds into your trip over there, do you?” Ashley grimaced a little and then looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh… yeah. Sorry, Stuart. Just… you know how these things go, right? Mr. Swarthout wants doubly sure that all this stays under the radar… at least until publishing. You know how he gets.” Stuart nodded. “Right. I mean, you are talking to the person who sets all this undercover stuff up in the first place for the magazine. Heck, discretion might as well be my middle name these days.” Ashley smiled and Stuart went back to clicking all over his monitor. “Okay… now, let’s check out the feeds. Turn your head up and down and side to side.” Ashley did, but the view didn’t change, and instead still seemed like a 3D experience and not being stuck in one spot. “Good. The feed didn’t change intensity or direction when you did that.” He clicked a few more times. “Now, blink.” Ashley nodded, but this time, the feed popped off and went back to completely blackness whenever she did so. “Oops. Need to… adjust… that… okay, now try again.” Ashley nodded again and blinked, but this time, the feed didn’t black out. “Phew! That could have been bad. Need to make sure you still have a view even if your eyes are closed… or blindfolded.” Ashley only nodded, a small amount of fear seemingly lingering in her eyes over why that would be a top priority that was needed. “Alright… lastly, let’s see if this other feed works… the mental one, I mean. 50-50 shot of this thing even functioning, but… let’s give it a go, shall we?” “Uh, do I need to do something?” Ashley looked around and she blinked a few times and even resorted to snapping her fingers, but nothing appeared to be working. “Hmmm….” Stuart looked closer at his monitor and clicked in a few places. “Let’s try it this way. I’ve increased the number of input feeds. Might feel a little funny, and we might still only capture some of your thoughts, but something would be better than nothing, you know?” Ashley nodded and her face soon relaxed. ‘I hope this works…’ Stuart’s eyes lit up. “Aha!” He seemed near ecstatic over what he was seeing on his screen. “Did you just think ‘I hope this works’ just now?” “Oh shit…” Ashley seemed petrified for a moment that all her thoughts were going to be recorded now, but it was soon supplemented by a look of fascination as well. “Intrusive suckers, those Bigs, huh?” “Maybe… no, definitely if even half the rumors are correct.” Stuart then wheeled away from his desk and came over to Ashley to start getting her ready to leave. “But just think about all those times where you couldn’t speak, and a recording of your thoughts might have helped. I remember you didn’t seem too pleased from that one assignment you had in the Middle East where you had to recall all that stuff for your article weeks after it had occurred.” Ashley nodded, seemingly appreciative of the technology more than worried by it. “You always bring up that assignment, Stuart. I’m still not forgetting how skeptical you were of me when I volunteered for that one.” “Alright, alright,” he said, defensively holding up his hands as he backed off. “I was wrong back then, and you proved to everyone of your skills as an investigative journalist. Just don’t go mucking everything up with this one just because you’re part-cyborg now or whatever. This tech is just a recording device… not a bail out.” Ashley sat up on the chair and waved his concern off. “I know that. Just tell me this… how does thing store data or how do I get it back to you all? Do I needed to do something further?” Stuart nodded and flipped one of screens back to her which soon switched from an MRI scan of her head to one of a process diagram. “Simple really… it has a memory of 400 TBs, but with our modification, it also will attempt to reach out and link to any satellites in the area and send back the feed to a safehouse. Then, if everything goes right, about one to two times a month, they’ll come back here and show us the footage.” ‘If everything goes right…’ The monitor pinged and Stuart looked back at it, and both smiled and seemed hesitant. “Yeah… I’ll admit it’s not the most assured plan using Littles over there to get us the footage, but it’s either that or we send in a person to take it from you, which could blow your cover, or we extract you early, with or without a story.” Ashley rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. Just… I guess as long as the footage comes back intact for me to do a story after…” Ashley then hopped off the chair and walked over to where Stuart was sitting. “Now… how about that battery life? What am I working with here?” Stuart seemed more hesitant in this answer and then waved his hand around. “Well… difficult to say really. It could last anywhere from two months to…” * * * Day 0 – 12:30 P.M. EDT – Earth The clouds stretched for what seemed like miles as Ashley looked out over the budding metropolis of Philly. The so-called ‘dark times’ had hit the city pretty bad, but with the Amazons… Bigs bump in technology, the city was breathing a long sigh of relief and hope once more. Buildings shined, stonework had been repaired, and the streets now remained clean and devoid of pretty much every gang that once roamed so freely. Ashley was just a kid when all that was going on, and was mostly shielded by her parents, but now, both they and that old festering city were long gone. “Ashley?” Ms. Abernathy called from her desk, to which Ashley spun around. “Mr. Swarthout will see you now.” Ashley nodded and proceeded through the large wooden double doors and into Mrs. Swarthout’s office, the CEO of the magazine here. “You wanted to see me, boss?” Mr. Swarthout was looking at a painting behind his desk but then turned to see Ashley. “Yes… please have a seat.” As he gestured to the open seat in front of his desk, his mouth was grinning, but his eyes bore a heavy aura of dismay and even worry. “Is this about the assignment?” she asked, sitting down and getting comfortable while also trying to maintain a good posture in front of her boss… someone who could pull the plug on all this at the snap of his fingers. Mr. Swarthout sighed before sitting down himself and folding his fingers together. “Well, you are the investigator. I guess I shouldn’t try to hide my intentions of this meeting…” Ashley hesitated by ultimately shook her head. “Very well… I just wanted to check on a few things, but primarily…” He quickly looked like he wanted to puke or curse. “You have until the end of October to get back here and report your story. Beyond that, and regardless of your progress… I pull the assignment. Understood?” Ashley did and nodded, but her face seemed to swarm with questions. “I won’t need that long, right? I mean, if our reports are anything to go off, I should find a story worth all this effort in no time at all and be back before the end of August if my other timelines are anything to go off.” “Maybe…” Mr. Swarthout was a cautious man, but bold as well when he needed to be. Today, his cautious side was showing far more than usual. “It’s just that our reports also indicated that you could encounter no small amount of… trouble. And frankly, Ashley, that’s putting it mildly. I know you’re no stranger to conflict… civil wars, violent dictators, drug trafficking… your resume speaks for itself by now, but…” He trailed off and his eyes hung heavy with something like fear. ‘The pictures… the reports… he must be thinking about the same packet of information we got back from one of our vacationing reporters over there that sparked all this initially…’ Ashley shifted uncomfortably, likely recalling the effects on one such individual that escaped back here, as opposed to their own journalist which had not. “Yes, sir… I know the risks. Those other assignments had their own risks, but at the end of the day, a Kevlar jacket can keep a bullet away. Over there though… not sure how much I can do to stop some even half of what I’ve heard about if it comes to that.” “Exactly.” His words seemed happy that Ashley was showing that she wasn’t going into this blind, but the risks were clearly still sticking around in the front of his mind. “Just remember that most will be out to stop you if you get anywhere near one of the better stories. You will be a target already the moment you step foot on their soil… stats on humans returning from over there who stay more than a week aren’t good. Potentially, with the October cutoff even, you could be over there for over 140 days... more if even the slightest thing goes wrong. Plus, you could be walking right into a trap and not even know it until it was too late.” Ashley sighed, and she was clearly processing everything, but she nearly unbothered by it not long after. “Maybe… but I’ve done that before, and besides… maybe I won’t even deviate from the tour group I’m already signed up for? Could be something interesting there… Diamond Tours I think I heard? Or maybe that was the other one I investigated and then rejected…” The tiny scoff from Mr. Swarthout was audible, but he also didn’t press it any further. “Well… I guess I can’t stop you at this point. You’re stubborn, and that makes you a great journalist, but still, as they used to say… be it on your head then.” Just as Ashley started to stand after nodding in acknowledgement back to him, he then stood up. “Oh, wait… Ashley…” She stopped herself from leaving. “Speaking of tour group… do you have a backstory yet? Your name could be well-known… even to a bunch of Bigs.” This time Ashley smiled with confidence and then pulled out a thick manilla envelope from her bag. “All in here, Sir. Stuart set me up as usual, and I don’t open this thing until I’m locked-in back home. You just never know who could be watching and wind up blowing my cover…” “Hmmm… very diligent of you.” His eyes went down to look over the packet now gripped tightly in her fingers. “I’m sure it will all be up to our standards. Still though…” Worry eclipsed his face once more. “I’m just… I’m concerned about you, Ashley. Would you…” He briefly grimaced. “Would you maybe reconsider? As a favor to an old man?” Ashley frowned at first, shaking her head and then backing away from the seat in front of his desk with a warmer smile instead. “No, sir. I’m not giving up this assignment for anything. I value your concern, sir, but now. Besides, I’ll be fine. I’m not a rookie anymore… so please… stop worrying, will you? I’ve got everythi…” * * * Day 0.1 – 12:30 P.M. EDT – Earth A small room came into view, suitcases and cardboard boxes taking up a majority of the initial frame. Some framed photos were perched nearby, but most of the items besides the main furniture pieces seemed to be souvenirs from around the world, presumably from Ashely’s travels in her job. One could tell a lot about a person looking at just their walls, and Ashley was no different, definitely being the type of person who valued degrees and awards over relationships, and beads from a far-off country to even something as simple as a pet. “Okay… back at my apartment now…” Ashley blinked a few times as she stared into a nearby mirror, temporarily pressing around the feed of her eye. “Still find this strange that everything is recording. Going to the bathroom felt wrong at first… but Stuart assured me yesterday that a filter will be applied before all this stuff gets submitted. Better not be lying about that, or so help me…” Ashley cracked her knuckles and then shook her head. “Whatever… this assignment is going to be a little strange, but first step… pack up the apartment.” She momentarily tapped one of the nearby cardboard boxes perched on a side table of sorts. “Mr. Swarthout is instituting the usual policy of paying for my lease for three months, but after that… the rest of my stuff will go into storage until I get back.” Her face clouded a little in sadness. “Gosh… I still miss my old place before the assignment I took in Germany that lasted another month longer than I thought it was going to.” She then shook her head and looked right into the mirror. “Regardless, I wanted to specifically include this bit for the future for two reasons. The first… well, is me.” She then waved into the mirror. “Not sure how all these angles work exactly, but hey! My name is Ashley Cutters, and I’m an investigative journalist for the magazine, Times Reporting. We cover a lot of local news, but since the ‘dark times’ ended, the magazine has been branching out more onto the country and now world stage.” Ashley then walked into what best could be described as her dining room, though the cluttered table seemed far from sitting anyone comfortably for a meal anytime soon. “So, just to note as well… I requested this assignment. Basically, I was reading a few articles from escaped Littles in the other dimension, plus the one from our own reporter, and I just knew there was a story there waiting to be told. It just felt like too good an opportunity to pass up, so I volunteered right away when Mr. Swarthout wanted to publish a story of some kind from over there. He wasn’t super specific about what, but it gives me plenty of leeway for any type of story I want. Just needs to be compelling.” She then walked over and sat down in front of a large stack of papers. “Now, I also wanted to do this…” She paused and reached for the large and thick manilla folder she had previously received from Stuart and then shown to Mr. Swarthout. “I want to see inside, and I really need to start memorizing everything in here. I’ve got about three days to do this, and if I’m discreet, I can do the rest of the finer details on the bus ride after the portal facility and travel… I hope.” Popping the folder open, Ashley seemed curious as to what was truly inside for this little operation of hers and moments later began to fish out what looked like a passport, cash, personal items, and several other odds and ends. “Well… I guess it could be worse.” She then pulled the ID card close into her face before showing it off at different angles around the room. “Still not sure how this tech works, but I don’t want to take a chance. Guess I need to reach out to Stuart before I leave about the specifics for all that, but for now…” Her finger then pointed to her name. “Looks like I’m now going to be Ashley… Stevens.” She paused and squinted at the ID card for a moment. “Hmmm… first name is the same. Easier to memorize, but not the best for covers.” Setting the ID down with a sigh, she started to read over a thick packet of information. “And it looks like I’m a personal trainer originally from Seattle, Washington. I guess…” she then glanced down at her body, “I guess I could pass for one. Need to check out a few facts and routines maybe first before I leave, but still…” She then sighed and looked at one of the few photo frames in the room. “Sgt. Gideon… Elias could’ve done better….” She picked up the frame and gently caressed the photo within, clearly showing herself and a taller and muscular man geared in desert camo. “Best military contact I ever had. Never worried about ID’s, background, or keeping my butt safe. He did that and more…” She left her words hanging on the air for a second as she lowered the frame to her lap and looked longingly out her apartment window. Looking back down about a minute later, she shrugged her shoulders. “Oh well… I’m sure he’s off protecting someone else by now. Wish he was coming with me, but… oh! And here are the portal tickets.” Ruffling through the spilled-out contents a little more after setting the frame of her and Sgt. Elias aside, Ashley then produced a large rectangular ticket that shimmered in sections underneath the overhead lights. “Good. Three days from now. Plenty of time to get all this memorized for my purposes. And… interesting.” She then pulled the ticket closer to her face. “Leaving from the portal in Philly but going to their portal facility across the country in Niveis… our Nevada. Curious…” Swishing around the finer details of her mission and some further notes on her background packet of detail to memorize for her undercover identity, Ashley finally stood up and began to pace around the room. Each time she made another lap around her furniture; she would switch to reciting another fact about ‘Ashley Stevens.’ Before long, she stopped and went back to the mirror she had started with. “You are Ashley… Ashley Stevens…” She said it, her voice shaking a little at first, and from her tense facial muscles, it seemed to deeply bother her. ‘Go again, Ash… Try it with more confidence… practice makes perfect, right?’ She then gazed back into the mirror. “You are Ashley Ste… Stevens…” ‘Crud! Again, and get it right this time.’ She sighed and took another huge breath. “You are Ashley Stevens.” This time the words came to her much more easily. “You are… Ashley Stevens!” A smile began to creep over her face. “You are Ashley Stevens! Ashley Stevens! Ashley Stevens!” * * * Day 0.4 – 11:16 P.M. EDT – Earth “Ashley Stevens checking in.” Ashley was now dressed more sporty, complete with tennis shoes and a pair of yoga pants as opposed to her previously more typical rugged clothing, born from years on the road and in foreign countries. Her high-top ponytail just seemed to add to her new persona as she handed over her fake ID to the ticket person at the newly constructed portal depot. Working exclusively in glass and steel almost seemed to be a requirement with the design of this building, looking both futuristic and intimidating but welcoming at the same time. For a moment before entering, Ashley hesitated just to look at the newly added structure to just outside of Philly. It was just another example of how everything was changing at breakneck speeds recently. After a second, bringing her attention back to the present, the ticket person looked back at Ashley and smiled. “Oh, yes. Sorry about the wait. Still upgrading from the original systems here. Those old hunks of junk were slow but steady and never crashed. These new ones from the other dimension, well… let’s just say I do a backup of my computer once an hour now… just in case.” “Oh no!” Ashley seemed to feign her concern over such a simple matter. Ashley had a heart for sure, but it was more calculating sometimes when it came to others. Ashley Stevens, though, was a character and needed a more jovial nature to blend in better and form connections which she could later exploit for her story. Stuart being Stuart had laid all that out in detail in her briefing packet. “Don’t you just hate it when that happens! My studio just got the new system last month, and ugh! Never seen so many crashes in my life.” The ticket person smiled while also rolling their eyes. “Oh, that’s just terrible. I’m so sorry.” The computer then whirred to life and a scanner-like noise could be heard followed by a single beep. Smiling back, the ticket person handed Ashley back her ticket. “Alright, hon. You should be all set to go.” The ticket person’s eyes then dropped to their screen. “Huh… portal station to the east of Carson City and north of Prata… strange… Why don’t they just call it Las Vegas like we do? I mean, they call their Philadelphia, Philadelphia as well, you know? Silly Bigs, right?” Ash nodded but she knew the answer and just didn’t seem to be able to hold back. “It’s already Greek. Their dimension pulls a lot from the Greek and Latin. The attendant stared back blankly for a moment, and from a quick widening of her eyes, it was evident that Ashley knew she had pushed her knowledge too far. Sure, a personal trainer could know that stuff, but it might have been more unusual for them to point it out. “At least… that’s what I read in Times Reporting last month!” The ticket person quickly smiled once again. “Oh! That must be it. They do have the most fascinating articles on all that silly stuff.” Ashley clenched her fist temporarily but made sure to maintain her smile above the ticket counter. “Now then…” The ticket person’s finger then pointed to a wide-set hallway with several numbers above it. “Follow pathway 6 and you should be all set to go for your 12:30 departure time to portal station, Niveis 1!” Grabbing the ticket, Ashley smiled broadly back at them, clearly relieved that she had mustered her way out of that slip-up in character. “Perfect! You have yourself a wonderful day!” Waving goodbye like she had once seen in an old movie, the ticket person waved back without incident. ‘Whew! Definitely going to have to get used to this chipper personality that Stuart set me up with…’ In truth, Ashley could have changed it, but by now, she knew that for the moment, she could get more with a more empathetic and bubblier persona than her own. She almost always reverted to her usual self, but she made no more mention of it and proceeded calmly through the newly designed and built portal terminal building. * * * Day 0.4 – 12:26 P.M. EDT – Earth “Next, please!” a stubby and smiling man said, gesturing to the line Ashley was in while scanning everyone’s tickets before sending them off and down the ramp to the large metallic circle at the far end of the room. “Have your tickets out and ready to scan!” Ashley was more than ready by now and eagerly tapped the extended handle of her suitcase. She had shown up early and had spent the past hour getting some coffee and a small pastry. She wanted to eat more, but one of the top suggestions for portal travel was ‘don’t eat or at least eat light’ beforehand. As she scanned her ticket and saw the portal, her face seemed both relieved and content. ‘At least it’s Philly and not one of the ones out in the middle of nowhere. I think they still use the tech that fries your DNA or something and you have to go into medical hibernation for a week… or was it a month?’ She shook her head and kept moving toward the portal entrance… still lying dormant. “Attention!” the seemingly head scientist announced, clad in his pristine lab coat near the top of a platform next to the portal. Everyone below waiting in line immediately turned to him. “Now, I know this will be new for some of you, so just hold on and I promise! Everything you are about to see, hear, and witness is completely normal. Once activated, we will proceed one at a time. But first, please take the pill you are being handed now.” A smaller scientist, dressed in more hospital-like scrubs, came along and handed everyone a pill. Looking down at her palm after being handed one, the blackish green pill didn’t seem to sit well at all with Ashley. ‘Oh boy! Just gotta do this and get it over with. Can’t be worse than the scorpion shot down in Mexico last year, right?’ Wincing a little, Ashley immediately popped the pill into her mouth and visibly swallowed. “And now,” the head scientist continued, “we shall proceed! Activate the portal!” Almost like a performance of sorts, portal travel still fascinated most. For Ashley, the vibrations that started when the switch was thrown unnerved her just a little bit. ‘What the hell is that?’ Everyone had heard what portal travel was like, but seemingly like the universe was getting pierced into two, the whole room shook with tremendous fury. An audible whine and groan of a sound echoed off the walls, and soon, everything just turned to an unsettling hum. ‘God! I can feel it in my stomach!’ Several others groaned, but like the popping of ears after a flight, everything suddenly went still. Briefly everything became fuzzy within view, complete with static on the fringes of the frame by the date and time stamp, but when it snapped back, the portal quickly erupted with a viscous blue fluid. Shimmering and almost magical, it was entrancing to most. Ashley could only stare back in wonder at what was unfolding before her. Then, like a pool of water settling after being disturbed by a rock being thrown in, the liquid-like substance stopped and only briefly rippled within the metal circle device above everyone. “Wow…” Several of the crowd nodded in agreement with Ashley’s short but quite accurate reaction to what they had all just witnessed. “This way! This way!” the head scientist squawked again, looking at his watch quickly as if he had a pressing schedule to keep. The entire room hummed with life and the blue energy coiled through the wiring leading to the perimeter of the metal circle that now contained the liquid-seeming center. It was all quite mesmerizing and… “Feeling nervous, honey?” Ashley turned around to see a slightly taller woman smiling kindly down at her. Ashley wasn’t short by any means, but this woman easily eclipsed her by a good foot at least. Ashley quickly shook her head. ‘Crud! Is she an Amazon? Crud! I mean… Big!’ Everyone knew by now that physical compression between the portals was common. Most Littles over there shrank at least an inch, but coming over here, the same applied to Bigs… just not as well. Most towered over the rest of the population and were pretty obvious once pointed out. “N… no!” she blurted out, a little more defiant and defensively than she had anticipated. “I mean… no. Just… hungry.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth either. The taller woman smiled. “No worries, dear. There’s nothing to any of this anymore. Once the pill enters your stomach, you might feel a little woozy on the other side, but nothing a nice nap can’t fix. Just breathe easy and you’ll be right as rain.” “Thank you…” Ashley blushed a little, feeling a little overwhelmed by her presence alone, but at the same time… there was almost something alluring to her voice and overall demeanor. Something inviting… something… ‘No, no, Ash! Not that crud. Stay strong and stay focused. Just keep walking… just keep walking…’ “Ticket please,” one of the scientists requested as soon as Ashley was second in line to the portal. Nodding, she handed the ticket over, which was then scanned, and a small hole was punched into the bar code. “Walk forward and don’t forget to just keep breathing.” Their voice was almost mechanical… definitely without any shred of emotion or sympathy, but Ashley could only sigh and step forward. ‘Maybe complacency just means they do this all the time? More portal travel; less problems, right?’ The unease on her face didn’t seem to mix with her inner confidence, but she just breathed slowly as instructed and closed her eyes for a second, gripped her suitcase tight, and stepped through the… * * * Day 1 – 9:33 A.M. PDT – Earth 2 “Talk about a rough landing, huh?” another one from Ashley’s tour group asked her as he hobbled forward with everyone else toward the sign marked ‘Busses.’ “Yeah… you could say that…” Ashley brushed off the feeling of exhaustion blanketing over her already but just seemed glad to be here now. ‘At least I didn’t stumble… would’ve made a terrible first impression with the Bigs… Lost an inch or two though I think…’ “Come on, everyone!” one of the Bigs directed as they stood erect against the wall along the hallway leading out. “Don’t stop. Plenty more coming behind.” Ashley might have looked to check if the Big was lying or not, but the sheer size and sternness etched deep into the Big’s face made her snap her head back facing forward. ‘Don’t question… don’t poke… at least not yet.’ Getting outside, the sun blinded nearly everyone, and Ashley had to shield her eyes away from its intense glare. Everything felt bigger… more tactile, more dangerous here already… and that included the sun. ‘Man… please don’t burn already. I packed my sunscreen down deep. I thought I wasn’t going to need it until later… Stupid brain! You should have remembered to always be prepared with that kind of stuff after Iran last year!’ “Alright everyone!” another Big announced, stepping up in front of the group. “Per your tickets, you all are here for the Hermes Travel Company, correct? First stop, Alati Lake City?” Almost everyone nodded with the exception of two who then checked their ticket and ran off to the signs listing ‘Prata’ and ‘Carson City.’ A few giggled at their expense. Smirking as well, the Big continued. “Excellent! All good now, I’m sure. Welcome! I’m Miss Ripert, your tour guide.” A few clapped, but most seemed more or less out of it already. “Now, I’m sure you’re all pretty exhausted, so just let me check you in and then hop on board. While you wait, let our driver, Stephen, take your bags. I promise… they will be safe.” Ashley didn’t like to let go of all her belongings here to a complete stranger, but she relented as the portly man ambled up and asked to take her suitcase with a smile. “Ashley Stevens,” she said boldly when asked by Miss Ripert her name and for her portal ticket and confirmation number. ‘Please don’t be an issue… I don’t think I can defy someone this tall on my first day… at least not feeling this tired…’ “Let’s see… Ashley… Ashley… Ash… ah! Here we go.” Scanning the ticket and verifying her number, the little tablet in her large hands beeped. “Perfect. You’re all set.” Ashley nodded. “Thank you.” Climbing on board next, she eventually found her seat. Moments after Stephen popped the bus on and it roared to life, Ashley couldn’t fight it anymore and sleep soon overtook her, blacking out the feed once more. * * * Day 1 – 2:50 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 The bus hit a bump, and everything popped back on suddenly. “Wha…?” Ashley sleepily stirred to life and instantly stretched. Looking at her watch, it showed that she had been asleep for over five hours. “Gessh… guess I really was tired.” ‘At least I memorized more of my backstory before I left instead of relying on the bus ride…’ The bus then started to turn and Ashley shifted toward the window from the force of the pull. It wasn’t major, but it was just enough that it slightly shifted her gaze to the left… which just happened to be the perfect timing to see a large glimmering city just out her window. “Wow… I guess that’s Alati Lake City…” “Yep,” another passenger on the tour bus confirmed. “Miss Ripert just announced that a few minutes ago. Should be arriving in the next hour or so depending on traffic getting into the city.” “Thanks…” Ashley smiled back at her fellow tourer and then looked immediately back at the city. A mirror counterpart of Salt Lake City, the surroundings seemed near identical, but here, due to the advanced technology, the city now almost seemed to shine like silver and gold against the bright sun overhead. The pale blue and expansive Alati Lake could just be made out to the west of the city against the backdrop of the near mountains. ‘I wasn’t so sure about this location… especially in comparison against all the rest… but I don’t think I’ll be disappointed here as a first stop… even if it is for almost a week.’ Minutes later, as if to confirm and elevate her excitement even more, Miss Ripert stood up in front of the bus. “We should be arriving within the city soon, and then it will be about another 15 to 20 to get to our hotel, depending on traffic. For now, though,” she smiled playfully and gestured outside of the lefthand of the bus, “this is Alati Lake City. One of the most populous cities in the state as well as being the capital of Utem. I’m sure in the next few days, all if you will get to explore the wonderful outdoor recreation and hub of religious culture that the city is known for.” Miss Ripert then cleared her throat. “That being said, though, I just wanted to give out a few warnings. Us Bigs are good people, but a few may be more inclined to certain… impulses. To avoid these, there are a few simple steps you can follow. Trust me, you’ll want to pay attention to these. They could just mean the difference of you all leaving back through the portal… or something more… permanent.” A few of the Littles murmured in fear, but most stayed silent and listened closely. “Now, first up, never talk…” * * * Day 1 – 4:55 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 Busses hissed to a halt outside the large and opulent sandstone and blue building that was their hotel. It wasn’t the tallest around, but the buildings on either side from this angle shrank close to the ground. As Ashley stared up at the tall building, she couldn’t help but hold her mouth agape in awe. ‘Wow… technology and art fused around here so seamlessly… and it’s only day one.’ “Okay,” Miss Ripert began to shout over the more populated streets, “we’ve all checked in and offloaded your luggage into your rooms for the night. With this tour, we will spend about six days here and in the surrounding mountains, exploring several sites and visiting several companies I think you might find most… illuminating.” Moving away from the hotel, Miss Ripert began to explain all about the city and its founding. “Founded almost two centuries ago now, a breakaway sect from the mainstream religion at the time settled here to practice as they wished. As a result, laws here became more flexible, and desires flared to make a city that would not only last the test of time but also break free of the shackles of many cities to the east that derived their city planning from Europa’s cities at the time.” Looking around as they walked, Ashley could see the validity of Miss Ripert’s words. While there was almost a neo-classical feeling to some of the buildings and statues around, there was also a clear push for styles corresponding to more retro-futuristic in some parts and touches of Brutalism in others. It seemed an odd combination, but it also gave the city a variety that was missing from most cities back on Earth lately. With many destroyed or in need of heavy repairs, most began to look eerily similar as they were rebuilt. Here though, the uniqueness along with clear city planning and a dash of color everywhere, stood out strongly in contrast. “Now, of course, subsequent renovations to them have closed this gap in recent years, but Alati Lake City stands as a testament to…” “Ophelia! Get back here!” a woman screamed from nearby. The group looked over and saw, with the reaction of many gasps of horror, a Little was running through the streets and away from a Big. “No, sweetie! Not into traffic!” Clearly panicking, she seemed to wilt in seeing the Little dodge cars whose hoods she barely stood over. “Someone! Anyone! Stop her!” Most of the group seemed stunned, but Miss Ripert acted quickly and used herself as a shield to block our movement any closer to the Little now blocking traffic. “Stay back everyone. They need to solve this on their own. Trust me… you don’t want to get involved.” As if right on cue, the crowd began to depart. That, and plus the stopped cars, formed some semblance of a circle around the Little, supposedly called Ophelia. From her expression, some doubt definitely seemed to be present in Ashley’s mind if that was even her name though when she first heard it. “Come on, honey. There’s no way out. Come back to Mama.” The woman Big seemed genuinely concerned about ‘her’ Little, but the whole scene still felt very much out of place and even illegal at times if looked at from the right angles… especially regarding the relationship between Big and Little here. Ashley edged forward, but Miss Ripert blocked her path to get a better look. Ashley’s frown showed she didn’t appreciate that, but not pushing it further, anyone could see that she was trying to listen in, despite her distance away from the scene. “Never! I would rather die than go back to be your baby slave!” The Little wasn’t calm, but was clearly level-headed enough to speak without any signs of mental or physical impairment. ‘I don’t know what would be worse to see… a Little that was mentally affected, or a Little that was so physically affected, that their mentality didn’t mean much anymore. Ugh… best not think about it, Ash…’ Regardless, the scene unfolding was aligning with what about Ashley had read about and then been briefed on before coming here. It was a terrible one, but it was realization of the truth that yes, there was a story here somewhere. Ophelia practically growled in response. “Heck no! You stay back, lady! I can’t even curse anymore because of you!” Ashley looked puzzled for a moment. ‘I wonder what the heck that means?’ She paused but then quickly turned her attention back to the unfolding scene between Ophelia and the Big. “You even forced me into…” An odd sort of look came over Ophelia’s face and her eyes squinted in pure hatred toward the Big. “You know what? I don’t need to wear these anymore.” She stomped her foot and then reached right under her dress… and pulled off her diaper, clearly being a cheap alternative that would even allow for that sort of thing. Most from Earth by now already had heard at least the rumors about ‘unremovable’ diapers, but from the reports, Ashley knew they were much more than just rumors. Still, despite the oddity of a Little even being able to tear off their diaper, it was still a clear act of defiance here and many gasped in the crowd around Ashley. “Take that, lady!” Ophelia hissed back at the Big with more confidence than someone who had just been wearing a diaper ought to have. The Big temporarily scowled. “Mommy! It’s ‘Mommy,’ Ophelia. Remember that?” Ashley seemed perplexed for a moment regarding the Big’s demeanor. ‘Which was she more upset about? The diaper or the lack of term to address her?’ “No!” Ophelia screamed again, this time stomping her foot on the ground and then over top of her diaper. “You’re not my mommy! My mommy is back home and…” Right as she said it though, it was clear to anyone watching that she hadn’t meant to say that… or at least not come across so childish when referring to her true parent back on Earth. Before anyone else could react though, a series of high-pitched whistles rang out through the streets and two police officers ran to the scene. “Ma’am? Is this one your Little?” The Big nodded her head. “I’m very sorry, officer. I promise you that she’s normally not like this. I…” “Ma’am… if she is under your care, then I’m afraid you are both going to need to come to court.” The officer didn’t mince his words at all, now only pointing back to where they had come from, which one could just see beyond the crowds was their police car. “Or… that’s at least what will happen if you can’t resolve this situation in the next minute, understand?” The Big now genuinely seemed fearful, but seconds later, resolved as well. Looking back at Ophelia, she smiled, but now also seemed burdened by the alternative if she failed now. Ashley leaned closer, knowing something was about to happen between them. “I’m sorry, Ophelia…” “Sorry?” Ophelia questioned. “Sorry for wh…?” Before she could speak another syllable though, the Big had rushed up to her, wrangled her into her arms, and then popped a large bulbous white pacifier in Ophelia’s mouth before hitting the front button at least three times. Needless to say, Ophelia seemed outraged and more worryingly, in pain now. ‘Wow… I hope I’m capturing all angles of this… this could be a great story… Poor Ophelias though…’ Ashley seemed sympathetic to a fellow Little, but the journalist in her wasn’t just going to stop and looking at this story from all the angles. Abuse. Being held against one’s will. Infantilization to the highest degree. A corrupt system. The normality of the treatment. Ashley could see all the titles of her next article so perfectly, but as she looked around, her smile of a possible story began to fade. ‘No one’s even batting an eye over this. If they’re not reacting harshly to this, then it’s already at least mostly normalized… which means there’s another story that no one wants to talk about… or even can for that matter. No… this isn’t my story.’ “Good work, ma’am. Just try to keep a closer eye on her. I might even suggest some… modifications, or some equipment maybe,” one of the officers noted swiftly once Ophelia had been pacified and was now being held firmly in place, not going anywhere… even as she struggled heavily… even more so after he mentioned ‘modifications’ and ‘equipment’ being used. “Now… being a parent myself to a Little, I might suggest you rediaper her. Never can be too careful, right?” The Big smiled and bounced Ophelia gently, despite her continued protests. “Oh no. Definitely not. Fortunately, we live right up the street. Absolutely not going to let her ruin the new carpet I just had put in.” A few of the Bigs laughed nearby but Ashley didn’t seem to know how to react. ‘If I laugh, I’m a terrible person without empathy towards a fellow Little. If I don’t laugh… I could seem suspicious. Ugh… well, maybe just roll the dice and see what happens.’ So, instead, Ashley just opted for silence instead of compliance. She seemed to catch the suspicious and maybe even evil glance shot her way by one of the locals, but otherwise, most didn’t comment. “And also… rest assured officer,” the woman Big continued, bouncing Ophelia in her arms, “little Ophelia here won’t be practicing anymore escape attempts under my watch. I can assure you of that.” She patted her Little on the butt a few times as Ophelia let out a small whimper of defeat and most definitely fear. The officer only tipped his hat, smiled, and left. As for the reactions from the rest of the tour group… they were less inclined to say anything. It only took a second though, to realize that most now seemed too petrified over what just happened in front of them. Most grimaced even further when the Big got Ophelia to wave her hand back at everyone and babyishly say ‘goodbye’ for her to the crowd there. It was an unsettling sight to say the least. Still, the scene now over, Miss Ripert glanced back at the group. “Now then… no worries, my darlings. Just a small escapee of a Little. These attempts happen all the time here now, but you have to give their tiny failures a little sympathy at least… and nothing more.” Ashley knitted her hands together, clearly trying to distance herself from all that was happening. It was all terrible to see, but the complacency of every Big now that Ophelia had been taken away was disconcerting. This wasn’t her story, but as Ashley listened on to excuse after excuse by Miss Ripert over what just happened, it felt more like a conspiracy embedded into the very fabric of the society here than anything else… and certainly not the fault of a small and clearly traumatized Little. Ashley didn’t have a story yet, but seeing it was only Day 1 and this had happened literally right in front of her when she wasn’t even looking, her overall confidence seemed to bloom that yes, she would find a story. ‘I vow to myself now… I’m not leaving here until I get the story I’m looking for. ‘Ashley Cutter’ will soon be a name on everyone’s lips back home. The Little that figured out the truth of this terrible place!’ It might have been a simplistic platitude, but it provided the tiniest of smiles. Even in a place like this, it was good to have hope that everything would be okay. So, for Ashley, that absolutely meant that by the end here, she would have her story.

Hey everyone! I posted this story a little while ago, but took it down due to needing more revamp and ideas to make this story pop. I am the original writer of this story and there is a person on deviantart writing a very similar version that I allowed her to write. I hope everybody enjoys this story as much as I do. Enjoy! Chapter 1: Eva tossed in turn at the sound of her phone's alarm going off she was once again having one of her favorite dreams of her being cared for like the little baby she was dressed as by her neighbor at school Ms.Harper. The large woman was feeding her a baby bottle of warm milk and slowly rubbing her diapered crotch telling her how naughty of a little baby she had been as Eva continued to hear the alarm screaming at her knowing it was time to get up. If anybody was in the room with her you would be pretty shocked to see her the way she was dressed. Eva was 28 years old and stood at 4 feet tall. She was the teacher at one of the finest schools in the state of Florida that taught children with all types of special needs. When she was first hired she was shocked when she went into the classroom to find a large nursery instead of a children's classroom. There were 4 cribs, 4 High chairs, a changing table that could fit most adults, and the largest playpen in the world that she had ever seen along with what looked like an old broom closet that was suppose to be her office. As summer break was coming up she had learned from her neighbor Ms.Harper that all of the furniture and both of there rooms was being renovated for brand new items and would be removed when summer break began which excited Eva even more wondering if she could finally have the things she wanted most a nursery. When the day had finally come and her former students had left the classroom she watched as the maintenance crew rolled in with large boxes of what had to be the new items for her classroom. Eva quickly asked one of the men what they were going to do with the items and quickly learned they were being thrown out and asked if she could have one of each for her "niece". The men smiled telling her that it wouldn't be a problem and Eva was even more excited when she learned they were going to deliver the items as well. Eva stared at her phone knowing that summer had come to an end entirely way to fast, but now she had to get up and ready to meet her new students. She got out of the crib quickly noticing the sagging that was coming from the wet diaper between legs and placing it in the diaper pail beside her changing table. She walked out of her nursery loving the sound of her calling it that truly turned her on even more. She hopped into the shower turning the water on wondering to herself if maybe this year she could do something different. She turned the water off to the shower quickly grabbing a towel drying herself as she made her way towards her old bedroom. She called it old because for most of the summer she truly lived the life of a baby girl. She stared at her old bed seeing it still made up like she left it when summer began and walked towards her closet knowing she didn't have much time to get ready. She looked through all of the suits and adult dresses telling herself maybe she could try something new when she quickly had a cute idea. She walked out of the bedroom and into the nursery which contained a massive walk in closet. She quickly found what she was looking for it was a pair of shortalls she had worn for Halloween the year before and had the words "cutie pie" stitched on the bib. She took the outfit back into her adult room setting them on the bed. After sliding on some panties, socks, and one of her more childish shirts she slid the shortalls over her small frame she pulled the straps over snapping them in place. She walked into her bathroom quickly seeing she had 20 minutes before she had to be at her classroom as she stared into the mirror wondering what was missing. She reached into her drawers finding two red hair bows pulling some of her hair together before putting one bow on one side and then the other giving herself pigtails. She then noticed in the mirror that she truly looked nothing like the 28 year old educator, but a student ready for her first day at pre-school and decide that it was a bad idea. She reached for her phone quickly seeing she only had 10 minutes to be at her classroom. Eva ran out of her bathroom grabbing her purse and shoes before running out of her house towards her car. She started the engine and raced to the school as quick as she could. She was very happy that she had chose to live right around the corner or else she might of been in some real trouble. She pulled into the school seeing she had 7 minutes to get into the classroom knowing she always took the back way in knowing the front of the school was going to be packed with parents dropping off there students. When she got out of her car she then noticed a problem she realized she was still wearing the shortalls, but then knew she was going to have to worry about it later and hoped it wouldn't be that big of a deal. She pulled the back door of the school open running to her classroom that was around the corner of the hall she was on hoping there wouldn't be a line of parents waiting for her as she turned the corner quickly running straight into a stroller that she hadn't seen. Eva stared up from the ground wondering what she had just hit as a set of hands made there way under Eva's small frame as words began to form through her ears. She stared up at a woman asking her "are you hurt sweetheart? where is your mommy?" as Eva began to realize what the woman was getting at knowing the way she was dressed. Eva began to giggle at the woman telling her "mam, I am a teacher" as the older woman looked over Eva telling her "sweety it's not nice to lie to people" as Eva reached into her purse grabbing her badge showing it to the large woman. The larger woman smiled seeing the badge and reading the name "Eva Peters" and quickly responded saying "your my daughters teacher" as Eva saw the woman turn the stroller to her seeing the teenage baby inside of the stroller. The woman then stuck out her hand introducing her as Ms.Johnson and that the toddler inside was her daughter Danni. Eva opened the door to her classroom allowing the woman to push her child inside as Eva stopped to see the transition that her classroom had taken. The room had changed alot and seemed even more babyish then ever before. She walked over to the new cribs sitting beside the wall quickly seeing they were much larger then the previous one's and now had a strap inside to keep the child from moving inside. The next thing she noticed was the size of the playpen it was atleast 7 feet wide and 4 feet tall. Eva remembered the one she had at home she was just barely able to crawl out of hers and now if she was in this there would be no way of her getting out with out help. She quickly broke her trance with the soft knock at the door as she saw more children making there way into the classroom. Both mothers quickly pulled there teenage babies out of the stroller and placing them inside next to Danni. Eva walked over to introduce herself to the first woman, but quickly found herself being picked up and a hand being brought through the front of shortalls as Eva began to struggle as the woman she had met earlier Ms.Johnson quickly yelled "that's the teacher" as the older woman quickly apologized saying that makes since why I didn't feel a diaper as the three women began to laugh. Eva smiled sticking her hand out to the three women introducing herself as "Eva Peters". Both women walked over to the playpen as Eva followed listening as the first woman a tall blond with large breast introduced herself as Ms.Parker and her child McKenzie Parker and the next woman a Tall Asian woman named Ms. Martin and her child Cathy Parker. The three women began to giggle to one another as Eva asked what was so funny. They all stared at one another as they all asked "Why are you dressed like are children if your the teacher" Eva's mind began to go blank wondering what she could tell them as she quickly told them I did this so your children wouldn't feel intimidated by me and would see me just like them as Eva hoped they would buy the story. All three of them smiled at one another again saying you did a really good job as Ms.Parker spoke saying "its funny if you were wearing a diaper today you and my daughter would be twins" as Eva laughed with the mothers as the bell began to ring." Eva waved good bye to the mothers "telling them all that she would have them all taken care of" as the door began to close wondering what the day was going to bring. She looked towards the last crib wondering if she was going to have a 4th baby joining them today as Eva turned hearing a soft knock at the door wondering if that was them now. She opened the door finding the assistant principle Mrs.Ken standing there with a tall teenage girl. Eva spoke saying "good morning" as her boss quickly responded the same before saying "Eva you look so adorable" as Eva smiled thanking the woman saying "I found a new approach for the children" as Mrs.Ken told her "I knew you were going to be a good hire" as Eva smiled at the Teenage girl saying "who is this?" as Mrs. Ken said "this is Chauncey," she is in college to be come a special needs educator like yourself and volunteers with us for her school and will be your new assistant." Eva nervously smiled at the teenage girl introducing herself to her as Eva watched her crouch down her level saying "its great to meet you as well Ms. Peters and I am sure we will become great friends by the end of the semester" as Mrs.Ken spoke telling them "I am going to leave y'all to it" as Chauncey walked into the classroom past Eva who was hoping that with a new assistant wouldn't cause any problems.

Harper crossed her legs and glanced around the therapy office with one eyebrow raised. “Is it just me, or does this place look like it belongs in a Montessori catalog?” Pastel blue walls. No desk, just a soft white rug, three beanbag chairs, and shelves stacked with plush animals, board books, and oversized blocks labeled Patience, Listening, and Soft Touch. Dylan shrugged, sinking into one of the beanbags. His knees spread instinctively, until Harper cleared her throat and shot him a look. “Don’t manspread in therapy,” she hissed. He closed his legs like a scolded child. The door opened, and in walked a woman with silky, graying curls, a high-neck cream blouse, and a clipboard in her hand. She smiled, warm but unreadable. “Good afternoon,” she said. “I’m Dr. Cleo Harrow, clinical sexologist and developmental intimacy specialist, but since we’re going to be working closely, I prefer something simpler.” She sat delicately on the beanbag across from them. “You can call me Mommy.” Dylan blinked. Harper coughed. “I—I’m sorry, what?” Harper asked. “Mommy,” she said again, warmly. “All of my clients do. It helps set the tone for re-conditioning.” Harper narrowed her eyes. “We thought this was going to be… you know… adult relationship work. Fixing our sex life. Not—” “Harper,” Mommy Cleo said gently, “when was the last time you let someone touch you without bracing for disappointment?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Just turned the page on her clipboard. “And both of you, when was the last time intimacy felt like something other than work, or worse… obligation?” Harper glanced at Dylan, while Dylan looked down as if the floor suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world. Mommy Cleo smiled, not cruelly, just knowingly. “Exactly. That’s why you’re here. So don’t question the means to the end you both claim to want.” She opened the cabinet behind her, soft fabric rustled. “Let’s begin the assessment.” Cleo began with soft questions, typical, even. “How long had they been together? How often were they intimate? What did they feel when they touched each other?” But the more they answered, the more the questions veered. “When you get overwhelmed, Harper, do you shut down or lash out?” “Dylan, would you say you require prompting to act on desire?” “If I gave you both coloring books and a timed task chart, would you find that comforting or condescending?” Ten minutes in, Harper was fidgeting. Dylan was blushing. “Based on your dynamic,” Mommy Cleo said at last, “I’m diagnosing a shared state of arrested erotic development.” “A…what now?” Harper said flatly. “You’ve both regressed emotionally, Harper yours is into avoidance, Dylan into appeasement. You’re functionally incompatible with adult intimacy.” She rose and opened a cabinet behind her. “Which means we don’t move forward with toys, talk therapy, or role reversal games.” She turned, holding up two folded onesies. “We move backwards.” The fabric was pastel. One was pink with “Crybaby 1” stitched across the chest. The other was lavender, ruffled at the shoulders, labeled “Crybaby 2.” “Absolutely not,” Harper said. “I don’t wear pink,” Dylan muttered. “You don’t wear pants either,” Cleo replied calmly. “Not until you’re evaluated for emotional readiness.” She pulled open another drawer and revealed two fluffy white diapers. Printed. Thick. One had little red hearts and pacifiers. The other had cartoon bows and the word sissy in script. Harper blinked, and Dylan swallowed. “You’re free to leave at any time,” Mommy Cleo said sweetly. “But if you stay, you’ll surrender adult privileges for the duration of your therapeutic contract.” “What does that mean?” Dylan asked. “It means no unsupervised bathroom access, no adult language, and no orgasms. Until you earn them.” She smiled as she noted lastly, “And we’ll be locking that away shortly.” Harper stood, arms crossed, staring down at the onesie labeled “Crybaby 1.” “It’s a metaphor, right?” she asked. “Like… symbolic?” Mommy Cleo was crouched beside Dylan, gently taping him into the cartoon-printed diaper with practiced precision. “No, sweetheart. It’s corrective. You’re not being punished, you’re being relieved of responsibility. Adult roles haven’t worked for either of you. So we’re giving your nervous systems what they’ve been craving: safety, containment, surrender.” Dylan whimpered softly as the final tape pressed into place. Mommy Cleo patted the front of his diaper with clinical detachment. “Still dry. Good girl.” Harper blinked. “Did you just—?” “Yes,” Cleo said. “From now on, Dylan will go by Delilah.” “I didn’t agree to that,” he muttered, pink rising in his face. “Exactly,” Cleo replied calmly. “That’s why you’re here.” Dylan shut up after that, he didn’t fight the name, there was really no fight in his to begin with, but something inside him folded. Not with fear, but with the sickening, silent click of inevitability of “Delilah”. It slid over his old name like paint over rotted wood, stripping not just his masculinity, but his history. The worst part? He began to crave seeing how far it would go. The nursery room was shockingly cozy. Two large adult-size cribs sat side by side. Between them, a padded changing bench and a pastel highchair built for two. The walls were lavender and cream, decorated with decals of clouds, moons, and a giant stenciled phrase: “Littles Thrive Under Love & Structure.” Harper hesitated at the threshold. “Is this a sex dungeon disguised as a daycare?” she muttered. “It’s a re-attachment space,” Cleo said, pulling a pair of matching rompers from a drawer. “You’ll be sharing a crib tonight, and every night, until I deem you emotionally differentiated enough to sleep apart.” “What does that even mean?” “It means,” Cleo said, gently pressing the pink romper into her arms, “you still flinch when he touches you, and he still apologizes before every sentence. You’re not partners. You’re co-dependent toddlers with adult resentment.” Delilah stood awkwardly by the changing table, blushing, fidgeting, the diaper crinkling loudly with every shift. Cleo looked at Harper. “Now, do you want to dress her, or shall I?” Harper stared at her boyfriend, no, her diapered… baby sister, and something flickered. Amusement? Power? Maybe even a flicker of curiosity. “I’ll… I’ll do it,” she said. The romper was pale pink with puffed sleeves and a little white heart on the chest that read “Mommy’s Softest Girl.” Harper slipped it over Delilah’s head with practiced ease. She zipped it in the back and pulled the tail of it snug over the thick diaper, patting her partner’s crinkled rear with a mock-smile. Delilah squirmed. “It’s tight…” “You’ll adjust,” Harper said. “Babies don’t complain. Right, Mommy?” Cleo beamed. “Excellent instinct.” Delilah stood awkwardly in her pink romper, head bowed, hands folded over her crinkly diaper, standing between them, his diaper thick, romper zipped, name tag swinging, Delilah felt like a mannequin for their shared undoing of him. Harper adjusted the puffed sleeve while Mommy Cleo smoothed the rump. Their eyes didn’t just see him, they studied him, admired the damage. Every flick of their gaze erased another piece of the man he used to be. Harper finally zipped her up, patted her padded rear, and even smirked, but the satisfaction had faded fast because now, Cleo was holding the other romper. Blue with a frilly pink collar. “Crybaby 1” stitched across the chest in looping baby script. “This one’s yours,” Mommy said, already unzipping the back. Harper didn’t move. “I can do it myself.” But Cleo was already circling behind her. “No, sweetheart, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You keep insisting on doing it all yourself, even when your body’s begging to be helped.” Harper opened her mouth to protest, but the zipper was already gliding down her back. The cool air hit her skin as then hands, gentle and practiced, slid the romper up her legs, over her hips, and snugly over her chest. Cleo adjusted the collar like she was prepping a preschooler for picture day. “There,” Mommy murmured. “Such a brave little girl, letting someone else take over.” Harper swallowed.The fabric was soft, infantile and too snug in the thighs. The collar tickled her neck. She had dressed Delilah without flinching, but now, standing still while Mommy dressed her in return… she felt her throat tighten. Cleo zipped her up slowly. “Regression isn’t weakness. It’s a return to the body, and your body, Harper, has been starved for surrender.” A name tag clicked onto her collar, “Crybaby 1: Harper,” Delilah peeked up at her, eyes wide, and for the first time in weeks, she saw her partner looking at her with something like awe. Once dressed, the two of them stood side by side, identical from the neck down, two padded, flustered, color-coded littles. Mommy clipped name tags onto their collars: “Crybaby 1: Harper” and “Crybaby 2: Delilah.” Then she sat on the changing bench and crossed her legs, clipboard in hand. “Now,” she said. “Before we proceed to feeding hour, we’re going to work on sensate reconditioning.” She looked at Harper. “You’ve internalized withdrawal as protection, from this point forward, I want you to replace it with dominance.” Harper blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” “You’re going to ride her.” Delilah’s eyes widened. “I—ride?” “In your diapers,” Cleo said, as if explaining a yoga pose. “Fully clothed, You’ll sit on her lap, face-to-face, and rock gently while maintaining eye contact. It’s called synchronized regulation. Originally developed for skin-to-skin contact in premature infants. In your case, we’re adapting it to reintroduce pleasure, presence, and a sense of power.” Delilah let out a shaky breath. Harper looked down at her padded hips. “But I—” “There’s no need for direct stimulation,” Cleo said calmly. “That’s not what this is about. It’s about presence layered over surrender, feeling closeness, and the quiet weight of your decision resting on him. He needs to feel that you’re here, that you’ve chosen to lead, and more than that, you need to believe it too.” The crib creaked as Harper climbed in. Delilah lay back, nervous, clutching a plush bunny Cleo had handed her “to fidget with.” Harper straddled him, sitting carefully, the crinkle of both diapers loud in the silence as their eyes met. Harper rolled her hips slowly. The friction was soft. The pressure between them thickened. Delilah whimpered, but didn’t look away. “Say something nice,” Cleo instructed. Harper exhaled. “You look… cute like this.” Delilah blushed. “You feel… safe.” Cleo wrote something on her clipboard and smiled,“We’re getting somewhere.” The nursery had gone quiet except for the soft mechanical hum of the bottle warmer and the rhythmic crinkle of movement on padded floors. Harper and Delilah were close, closer than they had in weeks. Except weeks ago they weren't dressed, collared, labeled “Crybaby 1” and “Crybaby 2.” Their onesies brushed at the seams, and Delilah’s padded hips pressed a little too eagerly against Harper’s. It wasn’t intentional, or maybe it was. Either way, the air between them felt charged. Harper narrowed her eyes. “You’re pushing it.” Delilah’s lips parted, as his eyes flicked down toward where their bodies had touched, just for a second too long and something gleamed in them, shame, need, a flicker of something far more vulnerable. “Still trying to make it about you, little one?” Mommy Cleo towered above both of them, seeing larger than life. Like a goddess was descending as her hand reached down to inspect Deliah. “I wasn’t—” Delilah murmured. “You’re not in trouble, sweetheart,” she said, voice as soft as it was certain. “But you do need a gentle reminder of your role. This is about trust, about letting go, not just for you, but for both of you.” From a velvet-lined pouch, Cleo retrieved something small and blush-pink, glossy like a toy but serious in its intent. The chastity cage gleamed under the nursery lights. Delilah’s breath hitched as the front of his onesie and diaper were unfastened. Cleo worked with clinical ease, fitting the device into place, her fingers were practiced, patient. “There,” she murmured with a satisfied smile. “That’s better. Much more fitting for a delicate clitty like yours.” Harper flinched, not from shock, but from something deeper. Desire? Envy? She watched her boyfriend, now baby sister, lower her head, lips trembling. There was no resistance. Just a quiet inhale and a distant look in his eyes, like he was already fading into the role being shaped for him. Harper’s thighs pressed together, and there was something wrong about how much she liked how this look suited him, and yet, she didn’t just want to join in the power play, she wanted to feel it too. To lose and to win, to kneel beside Delilah one moment, then press her heel to the floor the next. Her chest tightened with longing and pride. Cleo stood tall, the nursery light catching the tiny pink key between her fingers. “This,” she said, “belongs to you now.” Harper’s breath caught. “Me?” “You’ve proven yourself. She—” Cleo’s eyes flicked to Delilah, curled up on the plush mat, cheeks still flushed, “needs someone steady. Someone who can model obedience and hold control in the same palm.” Cleo didn’t wait. She stepped close and slowly tucked the key down the front of Harper’s onesie, pressing it just below the navel. “You’ll keep it here,” she said, palm flat, her voice dipping low. “Right where it belongs, close and warm.” Harper’s knees weakened at the word. Delilah’s gaze followed every motion, wide-eyed, chin trembling. Cleo turned Harper gently by the shoulders, so she was facing her fully. “You want to show her how surrender looks?” Harper nodded. “Then you go first.” Mommy Cleo said as hands gentle but insistent, unbuttoned Harper’s onesie, exposing the pale skin of her belly and the soft bulge of her diaper. She pressed a kiss to Harper’s navel, right where the key rested, then trailed her lips lower, over the crinkly plastic. “Such a good girl,” Cleo murmured, her voice thick with affection. “My little leader.” Harper whimpered, her hips bucking slightly. Cleo slid a hand between Harper’s thighs, cupping the heat of her pussy through the diaper. She could feel how wet Harper was already. “You like this, don’t you?” Cleo teased. “Being my special girl?” Harper nodded frantically, her eyes wide and pleading. Cleo smiled and began to rub slow circles over Harper’s clit through the diaper. The friction was maddeningly soft, but it was enough to make Harper moan and writhe beneath her touch. Delilah watched from across the room, his heart pounding in her chest. He felt a strange mix of arousal and jealousy as he watched Cleo pleasure Harper. He wanted to be the one making those noises, wanted to feel Cleo’s hands on his own body. But he also knew that this was what he needed, so he watched like a good little baby sister as Cleo continued to tease Harper, whispering filthy things in her ear and praising her for being such a good girl. He watched as Harper came undone beneath Cleo’s touch, crying out as she reached climax. Afterward, Harper sat cross-legged, dazed but glowing, the key still nestled against her. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hair clung to her forehead. “Well done, little leader,” Mommy Cleo whispered, tilting Delilah’s head. Harper hadn’t expected it to feel like this. Not power., not exactly. That would’ve been clean, tight and hot, like snapping a leash. This was slower, muddied, and each moment sank deeper into her skin, until she couldn’t tell if she was acting or becoming. “I’m the one in the blue onesie”, she kept thinking, while grinding. “I’m the one labeled Crybaby 1. I'm, first, I’m number one, my needs come first.” Across the nursery, Delilah was now curled up beside a plush unicorn on the padded mat, staring at the rotating mobile above with a far-off gaze. His thumb hovered near his mouth, not quite touching, almost though as Delilah felt different too, a tightening and pulling. Every tickle of ruffle, every pat on his thickly padded butt, every time Mommy or Harper called him, “good girl” after they climaxed in front of him, he felt humiliated but also just… littleness. One that left him pink and helpless and hot. “Feeding hour,” Mommy Cleo announced, her voice lilting like a pre-recorded daycare jingle. She patted a large adult-size highchair built for two. “Front and center, Crybabies.” Harper obeyed first, then Delilah. The seat was padded vinyl, sticky under their thighs. Their diapers crinkled in stereo as they shifted. Crinkle crinkle. Cleo locked the tray in place with a click. She set down two sippy cups, one with apple juice, the other with a thick, off-white shake, and two bowls of bright pink mush. Harper stared at the shake. “What’s in it?” “Lactose-heavy nutrition blend,” Cleo said sweetly. “With a natural bowel softener. Nothing aggressive. Just enough to ease the tension.” Harper looked at Delilah, and Delilah, again, looked down at his bowl like it was the most interesting thing in the world. A tiny gurgle from his tummy broke the silence. Grrooorrrgl. Mommy handed Harper a spoon and motioned toward Delilah’s bowl. “Remember your assignment: regulated dominance. Feed her, and keep her eyes on yours., and even when she starts to squirm, don’t stop.” Delilah whimpered. “I can feed myself…” “Too bad, sweetheart,” Cleo said. “Big girls don’t get to speak once they’ve been renamed.” Harper dipped the spoon, lifted it, and guided the warm pink goop toward her baby sister’s mouth. “Open up, princess.” Delilah hesitated, his blush reached his ears but he opened. The first bite went down slow, then the next, and the next, as his legs started to twitch under the tray, the diaper crinkling louder with each squirm. “Harper,” Cleo murmured, “press your thigh against hers.” She did and Delilah gasped. “I—I need to—” Pppfrrrrrrt. A soft fart slipped out, muffled by layers of padding. Cleo didn’t blink. “Good girl. Keep feeding.” Harper held the next spoonful steady. Delilah’s voice cracked. “Please, I think I’m—” Hssssssssssss. The sound of wetness filled the highchair as his bladder gave out. Harper’s eyes widened, and Delilah trembled under her wide-eyed gaze. “Oh my god,” Harper whispered. Delilah whimpered. “It’s warm…” Mommy’s voice was cool, clinical. “That’s your body learning it no longer belongs to you.” They sat in silence for a moment, but then it happened. Pppprrrbbbtttt. Squelch. Psssshhhh… Harper didn’t need a psychology degree to recognize what was happening. Delilah’s face crumpled, and he grabbed the sides of the chair. His whole body hunched forward, straining. The room filled with a pungent, unmistakable scent. Mommy Cleo didn’t flinch. “Let her finish. This is pushies time.” Harper whispered, “You’re really doing this?” Delilah’s voice was a cracked moan. “I couldn’t hold it…” He finished with one last humiliated grunt, and his diaper squished audibly beneath him. Harper couldn’t look away. Her stomach turned, and twisted with something darker, and the tiniest flicker of arousal, buried in dominance and disbelief. Cleo leaned in. “Now ask for a change.” Delilah sobbed. “Please…” “Louder.” “Please, Mommy, I made pushies… I need a change…” “Not yet,” Cleo said, standing. “You’ll stay in it until Harper earns her first wet star.” “W-what does that mean?” Harper asked, throat tight. “You’ll know,” Cleo said, walking out with her clipboard in hand. “The moment you’re ready to stop being his girlfriend… and start being my little baby girl.” The sound of the door clicking created a sense of finality to their situation as Cleo left the room. The silence after the door closed felt padded, too., like it soaked up all the air in the nursery. Delilah whimpered softly beside Harper, shifting in the muck of hia own diaper. Squish. Crinkle. Squish again. The scent lingered, heavy and warm, curling under Harper’s nose and into her thoughts. She’d seen it all happen, heard it, even, but her brain hadn’t caught up. Her thigh still pressed against Delilah’s, tacky with sweat and guilt and something else. Harper sat still. Her spoon trembled in her grip. She’d just made her baby sister mess himself, and had made him hold eye contact through the shame of it. She should feel horrified. She did. But also… “I’m the one in the blue onesie,” Harper thought again. “I’m Crybaby 1. I’m first.” Delilah was still panting, the flush on his face deepening as he rocked gently, the sounds beneath him now squelchy. Harper stared, then reached into her diaper until she found the key. The key was covered in the remains of the a different mess she’d made earlier, it was covered in her cum and warmth for the interaction. Her fingers closed around it slowly. Delilah noticed. “I…” he whimpered, voice cracking, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Harper stood, and she stepped out from the highchair, her diaper crinkling with every movement. She walked carefully, barefoot across the mat, and knelt in front of Delilah. “You made pushies,” Harper said flatly. Delilah’s lip trembled. “And you’re not getting changed until I earn a wet star,” Harper added, voice low. Delilah’s eyes welled up. “I didn’t mean to go…” “But you did.” She reached forward, brushing her palm along the front of Delilah’s onesie, over the lumpy, sagging bulge beneath. Delilah whimpered and flinched, but didn’t stop her. Harper breathed in, and the smell made her stomach twist again, but she didn’t stop either. “This is what Mommy meant,” she murmured. “You’re not mine anymore.” Delilah blinked. “What?” Harper held up the key. “She gave you away.” And then, softly, almost without meaning to, she added: “I’m the first. I go first. I’m the bestest one…” Her voice broke around the childish rhythm of the phrase, her body suddenly curling in, a shiver shaking through her as she hugged herself tightly and dropped backwards onto her padded rear. Crinkle. Thud. Delilah was now staring at her the way she had moments ago, but he didn’t say anything. From the hallway, there was the sound of approaching heels., Mommy Cleo returned holding a fresh stack of laminated star charts. “Perfect timing,” she said, eyes scanning their expressions, their posture, their stink, before declaring, “You’ve both done beautifully,” with a wide smile on her face. She walked over, lifted Harper’s chin, and smiled. “Now let’s get my little matching set all cleaned up,” she cooed, “You’ve got so many more stars to earn.”

Date: December 11th Came across a weird ad today. Showed grown-ups acting like kids, all happy and carefree. Got me thinking, you know? Can I ditch the whole adulting thing and join them? Life's okay as it is — work, bills, adult stuff. But those happy faces in the ad got me wondering if there's something more. A simpler life, carefree and easy. Questions buzzing in my head. Can I really ditch the usual grind? Leave behind what everyone expects? Take a plunge into something unknown? Feels like I'm at a crossroads. One path is what I know, the other is this whole regression gig. Simple, carefree, but who knows? The unknown is scary. What if it's all a gimmick, and I end up regretting it? But then again, that joy in the ad, the freedom from adult crap — kinda tempting. Sleep on it, see what tomorrow brings. Life's weird sometimes. Date: December 27th Couldn't shake off this weird obsession. Been thinking a lot about those diapers they showed in the ad. How do they feel? The thought won't leave me. Spent some time today just imagining it. The softness, the snug feeling. It's nuts, but I can't help but wonder. You know what? Screw it. I did something impulsive today. Sent off that registration form for the regression school. Yeah, me, the guy who's always got everything planned out. No turning back now. Excitement's there, mixed with nerves. Wonder what they'll say. A part of me hopes they call me crazy, that this isn't for real. But deep down, a bigger part is hoping they welcome me into their world. Guess I'll just wait now. See if this was a momentary lapse of reason or if I'm diving headfirst into the world of diapers and pacifiers. Whatever happens, it's gonna be a hell of a story to tell someday. Date: December 31st The year's winding down, and so is the time before I jump headfirst into this regression thing. Tomorrow's the big day, the beginning of a journey I never thought I'd take. I've got the sabbatical lined up, so no work for the next six months. Full immersion into whatever this is. Nerves are kicking in. Can't help but second-guess what I put on that registration form. Total removal of potty training? Reducing my speech? Man, what was I thinking? It sounded fascinating at the time, but now the doubts are creeping in. Is this too much, too fast? But, truth be told, there's a part of me that's looking forward to it. As crazy as it sounds, the idea of regressing, letting go of all the adult crap for a while, has this strange appeal. Maybe it's a way to escape the grind, or maybe I've just lost my marbles. Let's see how it goes. Here's to hoping it's not a total disaster. Cheers to a new year, a new experience, and a version of me that's gonna be all kinds of messed up. Date: January 1st Started the day in my normal adult clothes, but that didn't last long. A female caregiver, friendly but assertive, made it clear that it was time for a change. Before I knew it, I was stripped down, underwear included, feeling more exposed than I had in years. There's a weird blend of humiliation and liberation in being undressed like that, as if shedding my adult clothes was shedding some of my adult responsibilities. And then came the diaper. It felt like a cloud wrapped around my privates, strangely soft and comforting. I couldn't help but blush as she fastened it snugly around me. I've never had anyone else diaper me, and there's something oddly intimate about it. But here I was, surrendering control willingly. She dressed me without asking for my input, asserting her role as the one in charge. All I got was a t-shirt that left my diaper exposed. It was an amazing feeling, an unexpected rush that I didn't anticipate. It's funny how the smallest things can make you feel little, and it's even funnier how that makes you feel taken care of. With a gentle spank on the butt, she sent me off to play. The mix of embarrassment and excitement stayed with me, each step a reminder that I was willingly diving into this regression experience. Day one down, and I'm already feeling like a little kid with a whole new set of rules to navigate. Let's see where this journey takes me. Date: January 4 th The caregivers have a routine of checking our diapers periodically, seemingly without any regard for our dignity or privacy. It's not like they ask if we're dry or need a change; they just dive right in and inspect, their faces devoid of judgment but their actions speaking volumes. Each diaper check feels like a spotlight shining on my new position as toddler. There's something about the way they lift up the back of my shirt and peek inside my diaper that makes me feel so small, like a helpless little kid but I’m guessing that’s the point. Today's diaper check was no exception. Samantha, with her gentle but firm demeanor, beckoned me over for my turn. I complied reluctantly, feeling every bit like a toddler. With practiced efficiency, she groped the front of my soggy diaper. The sense of embarrassment only intensified when she announced matter-of-factly that I needed a change. As Samantha proceeded to clean and diaper me, I couldn't shake the feeling of infantilization that washed over me. Each tug of the wipes and rustle of the fresh diaper served as a stark reminder of my regression journey, leaving me feeling smaller and more helpless than ever before. Date: January 17 th So, I'm two weeks deep into this regression experiment, and it's insane how fast I've gotten used to it. The craziest part? I haven't sat on a toilet for the past five days. Not at home, not anywhere. It's all about the diapers now, and honestly, it's not a bad gig. Every morning, I waddle to regression school with a loaded diaper, and it's become this routine that feels oddly freeing. The reactions from the caregivers and other students range from surprise to straight-up cheers. It's like waddeling with a loaded diaper is a badge of honor around here. Got a wild story from today. I was focused in some play, felt the urge to mess my diaper, and just went for it right then and there. No shame, no holding back. It's funny how quickly I've embraced this side of things. Went straight to Samantha, my favorite caregiver, with a big grin on my face. She sees the messy diaper and praises me for being a good boy. The tingles that went down my spine were something else. It's strange how a simple act can make you feel both empowered and vulnerable at the same time. But Samantha's praise made it all feel right. Who would have thought messing a diaper could be so, well, thrilling? Can't wait to see where it goes from here. Date: January 23rd OMG, guess what happened today? Samantha totally surprised me with a pacifier, and get this—it's got my fave animal, a fox, on it! It's crazy how something so simple can be super calming. When I put that paci in my mouth, it's like I'm being cuddled, all safe and cozy. But the best part? When Samantha and the other caregivers see me with it, they go all "aww" and call me cute and adorable. It gives me this warm, fuzzy feeling. It's like I've hit a new level of being noticed. The good vibes just keep coming, making me feel so comfy and happy. Napping has become part of my day too. The paci was amazing, it helped me fall asleep soooo quickly today during naptime. The sucking and the soft feel on my tongue make me feel even more secure. Date: February 6th Today was super surprising! While they were checking my diaper like they always do, the caregiver decided I needed a change. I was so surprised because I thought I only wet it once. But guess what? I must have had a real accident when I was busy playing with my Legos.. Yep, I was so into building my Lego masterpiece that I didn't even notice. It was a big surprise for me, and the caregiver got really happy when she saw my surprised face. What's really getting to me is that it's not just about wetting. They want me to be like, super not able to control it. It's kinda sinking in, and I'm starting to get how deep this whole going-back thing is. It's not just about toys and pacifiers; they're changing everything, even how my body works. Date: February 24 I wonder if my talkin' is gettin' more little or if it's just me imaginin'. Like, when I put these words down, they seem simple, like when I was a kiddo. But am I really talkin' like a little one now? Sometimes I think, "Hey, Eli, you're talkin' like a grown-up." But then, I look at these words, and they're all basic. Today, I heard two friends talkin' 'bout tryin' not to pee for as long as they can. They're all serious 'bout it, like it's some big competition. I just don't get it. Why try not to pee when we got these comfy diapers? I ain't tryin' to hold it, and guess what? I've been waking up with a super soggy diaper at night lots of times. But you know what's cool? The grown-ups who take care of us really like it. They're super happy that I'm all into this part of bein' a little one. Date: March 13 Today was a fun one! So, there I was, at the changin' table with Samantha, waiting for her to clean me up. She starts sayin' all these nice things 'bout me, callin' me a good diaper filler. Gotta admit, it made me feel all warm and tingly inside. Then, she starts rubbin' my soggy diaper, and I'm tryin' not to moan too loud behind my paci. It's like she knows just how to make me feel all tingly and excited. And then somethin' even funnier happened. Samantha noticed how excited I got, and she kept on rubbin' my diaper until, well, I had a sticky accident right there. Golly, to me, nothin' has ever felt as good as havin' a sticky accident in my soggy diaper. Oh, I forgot to mention somethin' important. You see, before I was a little guy, I used to have these accidents, but back then, we called 'em somethin' else. Grown-ups and big boys have a special word for it, but I'm not supposed to use those words anymore. Well anyway I stopped having them when I joined the regression school. Now, they're back but only as sticky accidents in my diaper, and Samantha says I'm a good boy for it. Journal Entry - March 23 Guess what happened today? I was playin' with the big, colorful building blocks, and it was so much fun! I got so caught up that, well, I kinda messed my diaper. Oopsie! But you know what? It didn't bother me much 'cause I was havin' too much fun. Later, I saw Samantha talkin' to Lisa, a new caregiver. They both looked at me and started laughin'. I didn't know why, but then Lisa walked over, and she squished the mess in my diaper! It made me giggle and wiggle; it was silly and funny. Being a little guy is so much fun, and the caregivers are super nice. I don't even mind the messy diapers that much. They just make me feel all little and happy. Journal Entry - April 7 Eli here with more little updates. So, things have been kinda interesting lately. Lisa, you know, the caregiver pals with Samantha, spends lots and lots of time with me. She's always there, putting my paci back in my mouth even though it's practically glued there. I'm such a good boy that I don't even need reminders anymore! She teased me today 'cause I dribble a lot in my diaper. I can't help it; it just happens. But you know what? I kinda like it. Lisa said I'm never dry anymore, and she laughed. It made me feel little and happy. Being a big boy and staying dry is overrated, right? Oh, and guess what? Lisa only lets me have sticky accidents when I've eaten my veggies at lunch and my diaper is already messy. Samantha's happy with just the messy diaper, but Lisa says I need to be a good boy all the way. Journal Entry – April 21 It's Eli with another little update. Today was a bit different, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. So, I saw Samantha and Lisa, you know, the caregivers who take care of me, sharing a kiss. It felt kinda strange, like a twinge in my tummy. I think I felt...jealous? Yeah, that's the word. I wanted all their attention on me. I mean, they're both so nice, and I love when they play with me, but today, seeing them together like that...it made me want more. Anyway, watching them kiss made my little buddy down there feel all tingly again, pressing against my soggy diaper. It's like it wanted some attention too. Silly little thing! Journal Entry - May 2 Guess what? Something big happened today. So, Lisa and Samantha, you know, the caregivers I always talk about? Well, they told me something amazing. They're actually a couple! Can you believe it? I didn't see that coming. And get this – Lisa started volunteering (that's a big word, huh?) at the regression school because Samantha wanted to adopt me. Yeah, me! I couldn't believe it. It's like a dream come true. I've got two mommies now, and they take such good care of me. They even asked me if I'd like to move in with them. Can you imagine? Being the baby of two mommies! I giggled and clapped my hands with joy. Of course, I said yes. Why wouldn't I? It's like living in a world full of cuddles, playtime, and soggy diapers. Life is pretty awesome right now. Journal Entry – May 29 Big news today! Lisa and Samantha officially adopted me! Can you believe it? Now I get to live with them, and it's amazing. They turned one of the rooms into a nursery just for me. Let me tell you about my room. There's a cozy crib that's super comfy, a changing table for when my mommies decide that I need a fresh diaper (which is quite often), and lots and lots of soft toys. No Legos, though. Lisa says I'm too little for that. But hey, who needs Legos when you've got plushies to cuddle with? I love it here. The nursery feels like my own little kingdom, and Lisa and Samantha are the best mommies ever. They take such good care of me. I even get to go to the regression school with Samantha, so I still get to see all my friends. Journal Entry – June 4 Hiya Diary, Today was another day of fun and surprises. Lisa asked me if my diaper was wet while I was in my stroller, all snug and cozy. I was a bit puzzled; after all, I can't really tell if it's wet or not. This seemed to make Lisa super happy, though. I told her it's probably just because of my shortalls. Usually, I can peek and see if my diaper is soggy or not, but with these cute shortalls, it's a bit tricky. I guess that's why I didn't notice. Anyway, mommy seemed pleased, so I'm pleased too. Journal Entry – June 26 Today was a bit different. Mommy Samantha had a special lesson for me. She wanted me to stay in a messy diaper for a few hours, all to help me learn to be messy without even noticing. The thought of it made my little buddy all tingly again. Samantha was quick to rub my diaper, but she stopped just before I had another sticky accident, leaving me panting and wanting more. After sitting for what felt like forever (I can't read the clock anymore, oopsie!), she finally let me have that sticky accident. It was like a little reward for being such a good boy during the lesson. Journal Entry – July 8 Today was super fun! Mommy Lisa fed me lunch in my highchair, and she was so proud that I didn't remove or spit out my paci all day. It stayed in my mouth since this morning, and it made me giggle lots. After lunch, Mommy Lisa happily explained that she's also proud of me for not noticing that my diaper is messy. But when she said that, I suddenly sniffed and realized it was! I guess my nose tricked me. But I'm happy about it because I know it makes my mommies happy. Mommy Lisa asked if I wanted a fresh diaper after lunch, but I said no. I want to be in a messy diaper for Mommy Samantha when she comes home. This made Mommy Lisa so happy that she decided to make me have a sticky accident right then and there. As she rubbed my diaper, I felt a tingly excitement building up, and before I knew it, I had a sticky accident in my messy diaper. It's happening faster and faster, needing always fewer touches or rubbing. Mommy Lisa praised me again, saying what a good boy I am. It felt warm and fuzzy, and I couldn't stop giggling. When Mommy Samantha came home and found me asleep in my crib with a messy diaper, she decided to wake me up in the most special way. Gently, she started rubbing my diaper, and before I knew it, I had another sticky accident. She called me a good baby and hugged me tightly. I felt so safe and loved in her arms.

Emily takes everything for granted, not least her wife. But how bad can a wife possibly act? Well, it turns out, pretty bad. --- Every update I post is available on my Ream and SubscribeStar pages one week before it is posted everywhere else. For $5 you can see everything I post before the rest of the diapered world. For $10 you can see every update early plus EVERY exclusive story I have written. That's 35 stories available ONLY on my subscription pages and nowhere else! I rely on my wonderful subscriber's support to be able to write like I do. Writing is my only income and the money I earn goes to help paying the bills, food and everything else my wife and I need. Everyone's support is HUGELY appreciated, without it I would have to find other work and I wouldn't be able to write nearly as much as I do, maybe at all. So thank you to everyone who checks out my subscriber pages and considers supporting me ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- Regression Therapy By Elfy Emily stretched out horizontally on the couch. The television across the room was on and playing some trashy day time talk show at a loud volume. On the table between Emily and the television were several empty soda cans, chocolate wrappers and empty chip packets. She belched as she picked up her handheld games console and resumed the game. “Emily, could you clean up the table, please.” Amelia asked as she hurried past the doorway. “Meh.” Emily grunted with indifference. Emily didn’t move from the couch. She didn’t look away from the screen she was holding above her and she didn’t really intend on going anywhere unless she absolutely had to. It was a typical day for the twenty-seven-year-old woman, one in which she was so motionless she might as well have been part of the couch. “Did you hear me?” Amelia asked as she walked into the room. “Yeah… I’ll do it later.” Emily lied. Emily heard Amelia sigh with frustration. After a couple of seconds Amelia walked over, bent down and started to pick up the detritus of Emily’s all-day snacking. She made a lot of noise as she did so, making sure that her displeasure was well known. “It would be nice to have some help round here.” Amelia complained as she stood up. “I said I was going to do it later!” Emily rolled her eyes. “Right…” Amelia replied sarcastically, “Just like you were going to take the trash out later.” “I did it, didn’t I?” Emily lowered her game with a frown. “Yeah.” Amelia shook her head, “Two days later, AFTER the trash had been picked up.” Emily grunted and lifted her game again. Amelia walked out of the room muttering darkly. People might’ve been forgiven for assuming that this exchange was between a mother and their difficult teenage daughter, but that wasn’t the case. In truth Emily and Amelia were married, in Emily’s opinion the marriage was a happy one despite some difficulties. Having first met shortly after college Emily had been a very different person at the start of their relationship. She had been born assigned male at birth and was still presenting that way when she met Amelia. It was only a few years into the relationship that she had realised who she really was. It had been a shock for Amelia but she had been great in helping Emily through the changes which followed and their relationship only strengthened helped by the fact they were both bisexual. Emily had now been on hormones for a few years and, by the time they got married, presented female all the time. She hadn’t had “the surgery” and wasn’t sure if she ever would, she felt like she had a lot of time to decide. She was still young; she didn’t see any need to rush anything. Emily had never had a proper full-time job. Amelia had managed to get reasonably highly paid employment in business right out of college whereas Emily had spent more time looking for work and doing the chores at home. It soon became apparent that Amelia’s job could financially support them both so Emily’s job searching became less vigorous. It was eventually decided that she could stay at home as a housewife and do all the chores and cooking, something Emily was more than happy with. For the first couple of years of marriage Emily had held up her end of the bargain. She did a decent job making sure things stayed clean and whilst she wasn’t the best cook in the world she could make some passable meals. That changed when the pandemic hit. Amelia started working from home more often and slowly, over time, she started doing some of the chores. By the time the pandemic was dying down Emily had managed to hand off basically all of her chores on her wife. A situation she was happy to keep up. Emily didn’t see any problem with how everything had developed. Amelia seemed fine working and doing the chores meanwhile she was delighted to be semi-permanently attached to the couch. Even if her wife wasn’t overly happy as long as she didn’t complain Emily wasn’t going to do anything to upset the status quo, as far as she was concerned this lifestyle could go on forever. It was several hours later before Emily was disturbed again. She was still on the couch when Amelia came in to tell her that dinner was ready. Emily could see that she was looking a little flustered but that was nothing unusual these days, she was always rushing around doing one thing or another after all. She always told Amelia she should slow down and relax but for some reason that just seemed to annoy her wife even more. Emily stood up with a groan and after stretching her back started walking through to the dining room. Amelia was already sitting down. Emily sat down and picked up her knife and fork. Without a word to her wife, she started eating but quickly stopped. The meat was slightly overcooked. Emily sighed in disappointment and used her thumb and forefinger to pull the bit of meet out of her mouth and drop it back on to the plate. Amelia hadn’t started eating but she looked up as Emily licked her lips to try and get rid of the taste. “It’s burnt.” Emily said simply. Emily saw her wife’s hands curl around the cutlery until her knuckles were white. She didn’t pay it too much mind though, Amelia often reacted like that when she was criticised. Emily thought it was always good to let her wife know when things weren’t up to standard though, it helped to make sure she didn’t make the same mistakes again. She brought some of the vegetables up to her mouth. “Ugh, you know I don’t like broccoli.” Emily said as she put the fork back down. The table shook slightly and Emily wondered if it wasn’t a small earthquake. When she looked across to her wife, she saw that she seemed to be shaking slightly. Her eyes seemed to pierce through Emily who had no idea what the problem was. Surely it wasn’t an issue to remind Amelia what she didn’t like, it was just helping her in future. Emily carried on with her dinner. She picked up the drink Amelia had made her but absent-mindedly let it slip through her fingers. The glass hit the edge of the table and the liquid inside poured all over the food. Emily let out a groan as she picked up the glass, it was already far too late to save anything. “Ugh, now it’s all ruined.” Emily said before continuing with a mumble, “Not that it was that good to begin with…” There was a sudden clattering of cutlery hitting the table. Emily looked up to see Amelia pushing her chair back, the legs scraping loudly on the linoleum floor. She stood up and stared down at Emily for a second, it looked like she was contemplating saying something as her lips twitched. Finally, she wordlessly turned away and stomped upstairs. “Why is she being so moody?” Emily muttered to herself as she stood up. Pouring the uneaten food into the trash Emily got a frozen pizza out and cooked that instead. Emily didn’t see her wife for the rest of the day, she didn’t go upstairs since she didn’t want Amelia nagging her about stuff but, as evening turned to night, she remained alone on the couch watching television. She ended up falling asleep there and without having her wife waking her up to go to bed she remained on the couch all night. --- “You need to get a job.” Amelia said. Emily was still waking up. Sprawled out across the couch her eyes half-opened as she looked up at Amelia who was already dressed in her business suit. Her make-up was done perfectly and with her hair tied back she looked very austere. “Huh?” Emily grunted sleepily without moving. She could feel a small puddle of drool underneath her cheek. “You need to get a job.” Amelia repeated, “I’m serious.” “But we’re doing fine, aren’t we?” Emily said tiredly. “No. We’re not.” Amelia replied, “You are not the person I married. We agreed that you would do the housework but you do nothing but lay on the couch all day.” “It gets done, doesn’t it?” Emily said as she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. “By me!” Amelia exclaimed, “Look, I love you but you’re not pulling your weight. I want you looking for jobs whilst I’m at work, OK?” Emily mumbled something and shrugged her shoulders. She hated the idea of working and making a commitment to find a job was the last thing she wanted to do. “OK?” Amelia repeated. “Fine.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Good.” Amelia smiled. It was the first time Emily had seen her smile in some time, “Don’t forget you’ve got therapy this afternoon. I’ll pick you up afterwards, alright?” Emily again remained noncommittal. Amelia leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead before picking up her bag and leaving. Emily remained slumped on the couch with a sizable pout. She didn’t want to look for a job, she didn’t want anything to change. Why did Amelia have to mess everything up by telling her to work? Emily opened up the laptop on the table and placed her fingers on the keyboard. She didn’t really know what to do or where to go so she just typed “job search” in a search engine and clicked the first link. She soon became dizzy as she looked through thousands of vacancies from every profession under the sun. It was all so… daunting. After a few minutes Emily gave up. She shut down the browser window feeling stressed out from the small amount of scrolling she had done. Sure, she hadn’t fired off any applications, really searched for relevant careers or even registered with the website but she had scrolled through a couple of pages. That was good enough for a job search in her opinion. With her promise to Amelia fulfilled Emily instead opened up a video game and started playing. The hours flew by as she ignored all her real-world responsibilities in favour of playing games. It was only when her phone vibrated and an alarm went off that she finally looked away from the screen much later in the day. She groaned as she looked at the screen which was lit up with the word “THERAPY” on it. She quickly swiped at the phone to shut it up and let out a sigh. Emily had been going to therapy for some time. It was the first place she had felt comfortable discussing her feelings about being a woman and was also a useful outlet for her other emotions. She wasn’t really sure if she still needed to go but Amelia insisted. The therapist was actually one of Amelia’s old friends from college. There had been some concerns about a conflict of interests but Catherine, the therapist, had always remained totally professional no matter what Emily had told her. With a groan Emily stood up and put her phone in her pocket. She considered skipping the session but she knew Amelia would only moan at her if she did, the same way she did after Emily didn’t go to the last two. Dragging her feet as much as possible Emily got dressed and headed out. It was only a short bus ride to the therapist’s office but it still felt like too far. “Emily, good to see you.” Catherine said as Emily walked through the door of the office. “Hey.” Emily replied as she walked over to the couch. “How have you been?” Catharine asked with a friendly smile. Catherine was a good therapist and despite Emily’s reluctance to make the effort to see her it wasn’t long before she was opening up. For the next fifty minutes Emily talked about her life, most notably how she was frustrated that her wife had demanded she get a job. “You don’t want to work?” Catharine asked. --- Amelia stepped out of her car and walked into the therapist’s building. She smiled and gave a little wave to the receptionist as she walked past. She had been picking Emily up after her appointment every week for a long while so was able to just walk through to the waiting room. There were still a few minutes to go in the appointment so she sat down and looked at the selection of magazines on offer on the table in front of her. “Want to work!? Of course I don’t!” Amelia froze. She looked at the door to Catherine’s office and could see it was open just a tiny amount. Combined with the suddenly raised voice she could hear what was happening. It was Emily and she sounded belligerent. Amelia bit her lip, she knew she was intruding but wasn’t sure what to do. Before she could make a decision, she heard more voices. “But why not?” Catherine asked. “Why would ANYONE want to work when they don’t have to?” Emily asked in response, “God, I don’t know why Amelia has to mess everything up. We’re happy like this!” “Are you both happy with the way things are?” Catherine asked, “Or is it just you who’s happy?” “I haven’t heard Amelia complain.” Emily responded. Amelia’s hands balled into fists. She couldn’t believe she was hearing this from her wife. She had asked for more help around the home or for Emily to get a job more times than she could remember. Was Emily just lying to the therapist or had she outright ignored her all this time? “Look, Amelia does everything and, you know what, I think it makes her happy.” Emily’s voice said, “She likes looking after everything and being in control. She might think she wants me to do more but I think we’re all happier carrying on as normal.” Amelia didn’t know whether to be angry or upset. As the therapist’s room either went quiet or voices were lowered Amelia slumped in her seat. She loved Emily and always had, but she had never felt quite as despondent over the state of their marriage as she did right there and then. She had made it clear, many times over, that she didn’t want to have to do all the work in the relationship. Emily either hadn’t listened or didn’t care, she wasn’t sure which was worse. For the next five minutes Amelia sat in the waiting room staring straight ahead. The longer she waited the angrier she became. In some ways she felt bad, she wasn’t supposed to hear what was said in therapy, but she had and she couldn’t change that. She had genuinely thought she was getting Emily to start picking up the slack again but it seemed that wasn’t happening at all. For the first time she started to think about divorce. “Ah, hello Amelia, nice to see you.” The door had opened and Amelia had been so lost in her own head she hadn’t even noticed. “Oh, Catherine, yes, sorry I was miles away.” Amelia said as she stood up. Amelia noticed Emily was looking quite surly with her shoulders slumped and eyes turned towards the ground. Knowing that she wasn’t supposed to know about what her lazy wife had said Amelia walked forwards and hugged her. She planted a little kiss on her cheek as she always did. “Are we still on for drinks this weekend?” Amelia asked the therapist. “Of course.” Catherine replied with a smile, “I’ll give you a call later, alright?” “Sure thing.” Amelia replied. She walked over and hugged her good friend. “Can we go?” Emily asked rather rudely. Amelia gave Catherine a small smile and then turned to lead the way out of the building with Emily right behind her. She felt like there was tension in the air, in truth there had been tension between them for quite some time. She decided to break the silence once they got down to the car. “How was therapy?” Amelia asked. “Alright.” Emily replied. She had her arms folded across the chest and was looking out the side window. “What did you talk about?” Amelia asked lightly, “Of course, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” “Stuff.” Emily grunted in reply. “Suit yourself…” Amelia muttered to herself as she drove out of the car lot and on to the road. If Emily wasn’t interested in conversation, she wasn’t going to force the issue herself. The drive was completely in silence. Amelia was constantly wrestling with what to do about Emily and the knowledge that she had no intention of stepping up to be an equal partner in the relationship. She was desperate to find a way to make their relationship work again, she considered suggesting couples therapy but it was a big enough struggle to get Emily to see Catherine once a week as it was. “I’m going for a nap.” Emily said as soon as they got in the front door a little later, “Call me when dinner is ready.” Amelia sighed through her nose with her lips pursed as her wife when straight up the stairs without even a thank you for picking her up. Of course, Amelia would be expected to cook dinner, even though she had been at work all day and had only just stepped in the house. She kicked off her shoes rather forcefully before stomping through to the kitchen. --- If you enjoyed this and would like to see the next part of the story RIGHT NOW you can do so on my SubscribeStar and Ream pages: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/m1cuafz5dm/chapter/6af1e1c0-cbba-4cfc-981b-37cb05a70f77 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1508581

Ruby Asura was an 18 year old who just finished high school and was getting ready for college for the first semester but tomorrow she would be celebrating her birthday tomorrow “Mama I’m home.” She called out walking in the door with her bag.

Here is the first chapter of my brand new story - Elysium! Just a heads up... the first chapter is kinda heavy. But it's needed. There will also be content warnings throughout the story, but I'll make sure to flag them whenever possible. Now... Elysium... This is what happens when I put a lot of myself into a story. Infernum and Arbitrio were the first ones where I put a lot of myself into it... but this one feels a lot more personal than any of my other stories, so I really hope you like it. It's also a lot longer than my usual stories (Probably aiming somewhere around the same length as Little in Love or Love in Dimensions). It's different in a lot of ways, so I hope you enjoy all the differences to my usual stories. I know this genre is a little overdone in our circles... but this is a story I needed to write. You'll see why as it goes on. Enjoy! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Especially when it comes to new stories! Chapter 1: The Edge Elysium – LittleFallenPrincess ------------------------------- Tw: Depression, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide ------------------------------- Just one more step. Just the tiniest bit of momentum. That was all that was needed. Was I being selfish doing this? Maybe. But it’s not like people will care for more than a week at most. They’ll get over the initial shock and go back to living their normal lives. I was always just a background character to their stories anyway. Always was. Always will be. At least since I lost Mum anyway. They’ll be like ‘Oh, did you hear about Noah? He jumped off the bridge and died. Such a shame. Had so much life to live.’ The same useless shit people say whenever someone dies. Everyone says the same rubbish especially whenever someone kills themself. That ‘they wish they had seen the signs’, ‘wish they had done something’, ‘they were struggling’, ‘at least they’re not suffering anymore’… and it’s all bullshit. They don’t care. They just feel bad that they didn’t give enough of a fuck about someone who was struggling to do anything before it was too late. It takes the tiniest amount of effort to reach out to someone struggling like this, but none of them can be bothered. I bet they’ll say the same things about me. But I think I gave them enough signs. If they can’t read them… that’s their fault. I pretty much plastered them on the walls in bright red paint in all caps… but they were still oblivious to the message. Even if they did read them though… At this point, when I’ve reached rock bottom… what could actually help me at this point? Therapy? Ha… sure… I’ve tried like four different therapists and not one of them could help me. Meds? Doc won’t prescribe anything else because nothing seems to be working. Mental hospital? I’d rather di-... yeah… that’s why I’m here on this ledge… I stared out at the empty road below. Thankfully… no traffic this late at night. No one’s oncoming car to accidentally fall onto. Which is good, because I already feel pretty fucking guilty for ruining the day of whoever finds me… But hey, at that point I won’t have to worry, I won’t be around. Part of me worried that maybe this isn’t high enough. Because I had heard somewhere that people had survived large drops… and if I do take that final step, I want it to be exactly that… final. I don’t want to survive it. That will just lead to… complications. Locked away for a while ‘for my own safety’. The thought of that sends a wave of terror through my whole body. One of my biggest fears is being locked away, unable to escape. It’s why I’ve put this off for so long. I could’ve attempted something before… but I was worried of failing and what would happen if I did so. But now I’ve reached absolute rock bottom and I’m like 99% sure I’m done with this life now. So as my foot hovered over the large drop in front of me, my hands tightly gripping the railing behind me, balancing precariously on the edge of the bridge… I tried to mentally prepare myself. It wasn’t too late to back down though. No one would know… it’s the dead of night. There are no cars, no people… it’s a quiet little English town after all. And I picked this spot in particular so that no one could stop me, that there would be no-one around to stop me. But if I backed out… I could just go home, and no one would have any knowledge of what I planned to do. Which means no-one is doing anything drastic to keep me safe that would end up with me getting much worse. No… I’m ready. I’ve contemplated this for years. Even before I lost my Mum in my teens. Even before I told my Dad about all that stuff… before he kicked me out. I was always depressed. Always wanted to stop existing. It was never a ‘I want to die’, it was more of a ‘I don’t want to exist’, or ‘wish I had never been born at all’. Now it’s different, of course, I mean it’s why I’m balancing here on the edge of a bridge. It wasn’t all bad though. I loved my childhood. Mum made it special. She was my support… my best friend. I loved her so fucking much. Then… she was just gone. Dead. And I was left with Dad. That’s when it all went downhill. Grades slipped, Dad got aggressive. Never violent, but definitely more aggressive. You could tell he didn’t love me the way Mum did. I was just this dumb kid of his, some failure of a son. And he loved to remind me. Then when I told him about all the things going on with my life… he reacted a lot worse than I’d hoped. Kicked me out. Haven’t talked to him in years, but hey, good riddance I say. Mum hated him anyway, it’s why they separated when I was very little. When I had to move in with Dad after Mum died… I think another little piece of my soul died. I’m still surprised I got into university despite all that. Barely scraped through too, earning myself a useless degree that may have actually hindered my job prospects afterwards. So my education was ruined, as was any job I worked after I left Uni, as were all my relationships. Relationships… Ugh, this is the worst timing for me doing this, isn’t it? So close after Abigail broke up with me. She’s… she’s going to blame herself for this. Sure, she broke my heart into a billion tiny pieces, but she didn’t push me over the edge. Even if she did turn all our friends against me. No, I was ready for this for a long time, even back when we were dating. I just didn’t want to hurt her. And now look at me… I liked her. A lot. But I was always holding myself back with her, keeping a large part of myself locked away in fear of how she’d react. Hell, pretty sure that’s part of the reason she broke up with me. She said I was always so ‘mopey’... which she’s not wrong about, but I think she knew I was bottling things up around her, keeping her from seeing what was going on with me. She always had this big plan. She wanted me to propose soon, then we would get married, have kids… typical heteronormative crap you see on TV, with me as the loving husband who comes home after a busy day at the office. White picket fence and all that. But I didn’t want that. Well no, that’s not entirely true, I like the idea of it… but it wasn’t… me. I’m not that kind of guy. I’m not even… No, but anyway, I wasn’t right for her, she deserves her dream. So I’m glad she broke up with me. She deserves better. I just hope she doesn’t blame herself for what I’m about to do. No. I’m ready. One final breath. One final step. One final thought. Better make it a good one. …Nope. Can’t think of anything. Mind is racing too much to pin a thought down. Ah well, go out the same way I came in, eh? And with that last deep breath, I released my tight grip on the guard rail, the blood rushing back into them after they had turned white just moments ago. Momentum took over. It was out of my hands now. A stillness radiated my entire body. I was ready. This was actually happening. This is it. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YE’ DOING?” Something that felt like talons dug themselves into my shoulders, gripping tightly onto my shirt, and yanked me backwards back over the guard rail, tossing me like a ragdoll onto the pavement behind me. I crashed onto the pavement with my arse taking the brunt of the impact. Then my mind and thoughts rushed back, realising I wasn’t dead. “I…” Everything was spinning. I couldn’t focus or think. I had been at peace, ready to end it all, but then something, or someone, came along and literally yanked me from my fate, and now my mind was trying to catch up with my situation. “Hun… were you seriously about to do what I think you were about to do?” came a soothing voice, from who I assumed was the woman who just prevented me from doing something very stupid. At least I assumed it was a woman from what her voice sounded like, with the slightest twinge of a Scottish accent in there. Though it must have been some woman to have been able to throw me back over that guard rail… “I…” Adrenaline was coursing through my body, and I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to admit the truth, lie, or simply just run away. My vision was blurry and I couldn’t focus. All I could hear was this soothing voice. So I couldn’t even put a face to it. “Sweetie… are you okay?” she said, crouching down in front of me. “I… umm… I’ll get back to you on that one…” I replied, finally managing a full sentence. “Hopefully sooner, rather than later… because you were one second from ending up as paste on the road below!” It was weird hearing such a lovely, almost maternal voice form such crude imagery, but it made me laugh a bit. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “Paste…” “Is your head okay? I didn’t knock it too hard, did I?” “No… I…” My vision started clearing as I looked up at who would normally be called a ‘saviour’ in this situation, though right now… I saw her as more of a hindrance to my overall goal. Freckles. That was the first thing I noticed. Well that and the very red hair. Like… proper ginger. She couldn’t look more stereotypically Scottish if she tried. Her voice definitely matched her appearance, dressed in jeans and a simple amethyst-coloured blouse under her black denim jacket. “Good. Because sometimes I don’t know my own strength. Now… are you going to tell me your name first?” “N… Noah.” “Well N-Noah,” she replied, imitating my stutter, “Care to tell me what you were about to do?” “I think that… is pretty obvious,” I replied, smiling awkwardly. “I guess it is. And why in the world would you do something like that?” “Because…” “‘Because’? Just ‘because’? Oh come on, sweetie… give me a better reason than that!” It was always hard to tell people this. To admit what I want. “I… want… I mean… I don’t want to be here anymore…” “And why is that? Did something happen?” “No. I mean yes. But I… I’ve been wanting this for a long time. Please. Just let me go. You shouldn’t stop me…” That’s when she took my hands into hers. “Sweetie, I’m not going to let you do anything drastic right now. You’re not in the best place, and I’m here to help, okay?” She sounded so… genuinely nice? Like sweetness personified. Even her words in her soft spoken accent made me instantly drop my guard around her. Which somewhat scared me… I nearly always have my guard up. “I… don’t think you can help.” “Try me.” “No. I… I don’t want…” “...To bother me? Shush. Now tell me, precious, what happened to cause such a little cutie like you to take the most drastic action he could possibly take?” I really don’t know what it is about this woman. She… she melts away whatever protection I had guarded myself with. Her voice, her mannerisms, that cute freckled face of hers… “Come on, petal…” “I… don’t even know your name…” “Ceres,” she replied, smiling down at me. “That’s a very… unique name.” “Well I’ll take that as a compliment then, but only because you’re cute,” as she said this, she sat down in front of me, not letting go of my hands as she parked herself on the cold pavement below. “I’m… not…” “Not cute? Lies. Look at you. I bet your girlfriend is all over you.” “D… don’t have one…” “You don’t? Well sorry, sweetie, but I find that hard to believe.” “I’m too depressed for her,” I replied, hanging my head in shame, trying to look anywhere but at her face. “Her? So there was someone? Is this what it’s all about?” “No. Yes. I mean… part of it.” “Then tell me more.” “It’s just… I’ve felt like this for a long time. Since…” “Since what?” “Since I lost my Mum,” I sighed. She went silent for a second. “Ah. Yes. I know how much that hurts. No Dad to help?” “No. He… didn’t like who I was growing up to be. I wasn’t his clone, so he didn’t care. I was always too much like my Mum.” She squeezed my hand, causing me to look up into her beautiful green eyes. “Oh sweetie. I understand your pain. But that doesn’t mean you go taking a step onto the motorway below like that. Are you in therapy? Missed your meds?” “None of it works. Tried it all.” She looked at me, no smile on her face anymore. As if she was trying really hard to read me. She was thinking about something, but I couldn’t even begin to guess what it was that was going on in that head of hers. “Right. Come on. Come with me.” Okay… I wasn’t expecting that. But hey, as long as she doesn’t call the police or for an ambulance… maybe I can get away with just slinking off home once she’s given me a talking to, and no-one in my life will be aware of what nearly went down tonight. “I… okay…” “Good boy. Let’s go sit on a bench and you can talk about what’s bothering you. Spare no details.” ------------------------------- “So depression, dead end job, no girlfriend, bad degree, shit dad, lost your Mum, facing homelessness, and nothing the doctors are trying is working? Is that everything?” “That… is pretty much it,” I replied, shrugging at her, not knowing what else to say. Ceres had found a nice little bench in the nearby park. It was just as dead as the bridge was, probably due to it being like… 3am. She had sat me down, wrapped her jacket around me (as I had been stupid enough to come out wearing just my t-shirt and jeans. Sure, it’s only the start of September, but it’s still pretty bloody cold at 3am in the UK, no matter what time of year it is), and barely released my hands from hers the entire time. I hesitated at first. I didn’t want to go and bother this complete stranger with all my issues, even if she had just technically saved my life. Despite wishing she hadn’t done so. But something about this woman, who looked not much older than 30, made me feel so… safe… that I eventually just blurted out everything, just one big stream of consciousness. I was worried maybe I had overwhelmed her, but clearly with her little summary… she had listened to everything. Not that I told her everything. There’s some stuff that I’m not even able to talk to myself about, let alone a cute stranger who just prevented me from ‘becoming paste on the road’. “Right. Well whilst I can see why you’d want to do what you were about to do… I still think you’re an idiot for attempting it.” “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be all nice and reassuring? ‘Idiot’ isn’t very nice, is it?” I asked, smiling cheekily at her, the first smile I had managed since she saved me. “Excuse me…” she said, trying her best to hold in her laugh, the one you could clearly see bubbling at the surface. “I’m very good at what I do. Not my fault some cute idiot decided to do something stupid and change my plans…” That’s when a wave of guilt hit me. The one I had hoped to have missed… after I had done the deed. “I… oh… sorry…” I replied, hanging my head in shame. “Oh shush. I was only on my way home from work.” “Still… sorry. You should be home right now.” “No, Noah… none of that bullshit with me, okay? You were in a low place, I understand that. Hell, I understand getting to the point where you’re teetering over the edge… but I will not have you putting yourself down just for slightly inconveniencing me. I’m just happy I got to stop you before you became vulture-chow.” “We don’t get vultures in England…” “And apparently you also don’t get jokes…” she said, nudging me playfully. “Sorry…” “What did I just tell you?” “S-... ah… yeah… Fine. No more apologies. For now,” I replied, pouting slightly at this cute girl. “Good boy.” Shivers ran through my body when she said those two words. And for a moment there… I swear she could tell. But it wasn’t good shivers. It wasn’t bad. It was like… a mix of both? “Now, sweetie. I’m a bit worried about leaving you alone right now. Have you got anyone you can call?” “No,” I snapped back at her, maybe a little too quickly. “No one?” “I… no. Sorry. I’ll be fine, you can just let me go home.” “Via the motorway?” she replied, pointing in the direction of where I had nearly jumped. “Oh I don’t think so, sweetie.” “I’ll be fine…” I groaned. “Look, I’ll give you my number. If you need someone to talk to, or have a drink or something, you just call me, okay? You’re not a bother. And I want you to be okay. You’re a cute guy.” I grumbled a bit, before she finally released her hands, reaching into her shoulder bag with both of them, before pulling her phone out with one of them. “Right, come here. I’m giving you the biggest hug ever. That way you’ll want another one, and be a lot less likely to go stepping off bridges…” Hey, I wasn’t going to argue with this woman. First off, she’s cute. Secondly… she gives off this vibe of ‘do as I say, or you’ll regret it’. Thirdly… I was still calming down after everything, so if I was going to try this again… I’d need a few days, I think, to get my head back to normal. And fourthly… and most importantly… she hadn’t called anyone. She hadn’t called the police. Hadn’t called to get me locked away for my own safety. She was just… letting me go. This was the best thing that could have happened once she saved me, and I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As I stood up, she held out her arms, creating an opening for me to hug her. Slowly shuffling forward, I got closer and closer until she took the lead and stepped forward, wrapping her rather strong arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I wrapped mine around her waist and embraced the hug. With my head pressed against her chest like this, this hug felt like the best thing in the world right now. The best thing I had experienced in years. I felt all the sadness I tried bottling up, all the anger, all the pain, everything… come rushing forward, flooding my body with emotion. I began to cry into her shoulder. “There there, Noah, let it all out. You’ve had a stressful life from the sounds of it. Just let it all out. Forget about it. You don’t have to be big and strong with me.” Her words, along with the soft, comforting accent of hers… made me feel smaller than ever. Even as she stroked my blonde hair, which must have come untied from the ponytail earlier, I felt smaller than ever, despite her only being a couple of inches taller than me. And I’m 5’9! Yet I felt two feet tall compared to this woman somehow. “I… sorry I’m such a mess. You… you shouldn’t have to comfort me like this.” She squeezed me tighter, then moved her mouth closer to my ear. “Sweetie, I am so glad I ran into you tonight. I think fate brought us together. Because I think I can help you.” A small little pinch. In my upper arm. That’s all that was felt before the world… and my body… got really heavy. Before the world started spinning. Before everything felt… almost good for once. And then… the lights went out. ====================================================== Sorry for the really heavy start to this story. I promise you it gets easier. It's a very emotional story, and may have some darker moments like this. But I promise you, it's worth it. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, despite this! Like I said... I put a lot more of myself into this story... Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! 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Hello! This is a story loosely based on a real experience I had on a day trip to a little beach town where I had some local apple cider. It was so hot outside and the juice was so yummy that I drank a whole bottle very quickly… only I forgot that apple juice (especially local organic hand-pressed type) is a natural laxative. In a tourist town with very few bathrooms available on a busy day in summer, it very quickly created a potty emergency that took over the whole day. I hope you all enjoy this story that was inspired by the event! … “Okay honey do you see anything else you want? We need to pick up the pace if we don’t want to spend all day just seeing the general store.” I resisted the sudden urge to grab every souvenir and piece of candy I could see and gave a hesitant nod, handing mommy the glass bottle of blueberry apple cider I had picked out. We just finished having a big breakfast at a famous local diner to start our day trip but we were already drawn in by the signs for homemade fudge outside of the little shop. We didn’t end up getting any, deciding it made more sense to stop on our way out rather than carrying fudge around on a hot day, but I still couldn’t leave without getting at least one little treat. Mommy was a sucker for my puppy dog eyes and I knew she’d get it for me if I asked. She set the bottle of juice on the counter and paid for it before taking my hand and leading me outside back onto the Main Street. It was a cute little seaside town that we were spending the day in; full of little shops, small niche museums, ocean views, and family-owned restaurants. Vacation days like this were some of my favorite kind because the places were so busy that no one looked twice if they noticed mommy holding my hand, the slight waddle in my walk from a bulky diaper between my legs, or whatever smells might come with it. Even if they did, we’d be lost in the crowd so quickly that they’d forget about it immediately and I’d never have to see them again. It was the perfect environment to blend in and feel like I was just another little boy being taken on an adventure by his mommy. Out on the street mommy moved us into the shade of a tree while she looked at the town tourist map on her phone. As she mentally planned our root for the day I opened my blueberry apple cider and started to chug - the shade not doing much to cool me down in the balmy summer heat. The only saving grace besides the ocean breeze was that I was wearing just a thin blue tank top with bright green shorts. My shirt had a shark in the middle which had already prompted several verses of the “baby shark” song in the car. And even though my outfit helped to keep me cool, it was amazing how difficult it was to regulate your temperature when you had a big plastic-backed diaper taped around your waist. It was not breathable whatsoever, even when fresh and clean, but especially not now when it was already a bit damp. The pee I let out at breakfast had created a humid environment in my pants that was making the rest of my body feel a bit tacky. A few minutes passed before mommy finally looked up from her phone to give me the plan and start heading to our first location. Just as she looked up she saw me guzzle the last bit of juice left in the large bottle, a few sticky drops trailing down my chin and landing on my shirt. Mommy froze for a moment and instantly I knew I did something wrong. I tried to wrack my brain for what rule I broke but I was already feeling a bit regressed just standing there in my wet diaper and my foggy brain was struggling to use adult logic. “Young man! Did I say you could have your juice yet?” Oh… oops. I shook me head slowly and looked sheepishly at my Velcro sandals to avoid her eyes. “You know the rules mister. Vacation doesn’t mean you don’t follow mommy’s rules. You should have waited until I put some juice in your sippy and then mommy would hang onto the rest. I hope this isn’t going to set the tone for the whole day! Because if you aren’t going to listen to mommy then we can just go right home.” She looked down at him and crossed her arms, and as bad as I felt for upsetting her - I also loved feeling like a little boy in trouble. “I’m sorry mommy… I was thirsty…” I mumbled, handing her the empty juice bottle and wiping half of my face with my arm. “And you’re making a mess too! Stay still and don’t touch your face!” She reached into my diaper bag and rifled around before pulling out a wipe. She tossed the empty bottle in the trash can before taking my chin in her hand and roughly wiping my mouth and chin with then baby wipe. The smell and manhandling only added to my regressed state and I felt my maturity slip further and further away. Once my face was clean, mommy threw away the used wipe and pulled out my reusable water bottle. It wasn’t as fun as my sippy cups at home but for discretion she had gotten me a grown up water bottle to use out of the house. Although she did get me one with a spout that’s about as close to a sippy cup as she could find! “Here is your water, that’s all you can have for the rest of the day. No more juice. That’s way too much sugar! Do you know what apple juice does to your tummy when you drink too much too fast? And not let mommy water it down for you?” I shook my head again, knowing that I should probably know the answer but it felt like most of my adult knowledge was buried under hundreds of blankets in the back of my head. Instead of searching for it, I just gave in to mommy and let her be the one with the answers. “Well you’re about to find out, little man. Now come on, mommy forgives you, let’s just focus on having a good day, okay? Be a good little boy for mommy and maybe we’ll even get ice cream later!” I perked up right away at that and smiled, already forgetting about the juice and whatever mommy had said about it. I was going to be such a good boy! I put the water bottle up to my lips and tilted it up out of habit, drinking it with both hands like it was a big metal sippy cup. As I felt the cool water go down my throat, I simultaneously felt a warm wetness leaving my body and soaking into my diaper. When I finished drinking a moment later I handed the bottle back to mommy and she put it in the pouch on my diaper bag. She had her hand out waiting for me to take it but I hesitated a few more seconds before I did, not being able to focus on the request while I was still wetting myself. Mommy knew exactly what was happening and waited patiently for me to finish my peepee and then take her hand before we started down the street towards our first stop - a little historical house with a gift shop. I may have been oblivious to the consequences of what I had done, but mommy was already planning in her head for the inevitable disaster that was on the horizon. Her plan was just to get as many activities in as possible before the storm. And oh, what a mighty storm it would be… To be continued!

Vicky Williams had a worried expression on her face. She was sitting on the sofa worried that her 20 year old daughter wasn’t socialising enough and was working too hard on her college work. Vicky was a 37 year old brunette mum. “She really needs to get out and meet her friends and stop spending all her time doing her work” I head up to Ellie’s bedroom and knock on the door “Ellie?” Ellie is pouring over notes and mounds of books. Her heavy glasses are sitting on my nose. She hears her mum calling through the door. “Mum, not now. I need to study for the quiz next month. It's important." I say trying to zone you out but I know it's not that easy. Last month, you tried taking me out to go out and meet people for half an hour. I refused as I wanted to really study for college and I wanted to get great grades. I shook my head and got back down to studying. “Ok hun. I was just saying that I’m going to the shops and I’ll be there awhile'' Ellie doesn't hear anything and Vicky heads downstairs and grabs her purse. She gets in the car and drives to the local supermarket. As Vicky approaches the entrance, there are people handing out leaflets. One of them hands her one and she looks at it while going in. ‘All stressed out? Want to relax? Well take a relaxing day at our ‘feel young spa and health centre. You'll feel like a new you.’ Vicky smiles and thinks that Ellie would love that. She put it in her pocket and finished the shopping. 1hr later Vicky puts the bags in the car and drives home still thinking of the spa. She parks the car and puts the shopping away, head up to Ellie’s room. “Ellie, I saw this when I was shopping. Though you could do with it” she says, sliding it under the door. Ellie doesn't see it as she is in the zone. The clock chimes 11. Ellie looks at it and yawns. She wasn't finished with her studies but she was shattered. She got up from the chair and was about to flop onto her bed when she noticed the leaflet on the floor. It looks interesting and Ellie needs a break but she needs to finish this assignment. She puts it onto her bedside table and flops onto her bed and is out like a light. When Ellie woke up the next day, her body aches and her legs feel like lead weights. “God I'm aching, my body feels like I've been to the gym during the night.” She sits up in bed and looks over to her bedside table and takes the leaflet. “This looks really relaxing. I'll get mum to take me.” Ellie gets up and walks like a zombie downstairs. “Um, mum, can we go to the spa resort?” “Well, actually, I guessed you wanted to, so I decided to book us in today. I've signed us up for a few treatments too and I'm just waiting for you to have breakfast and then get dressed and we can go.” Vicky replied. Ellie nods and hurries up getting ready and 10 mins later both Vicky and Ellie are in the car driving downtown to the spa. 20 mins later, Vicky parks the car and both of them enter a big building. The building is an old huge mansion with the name ‘Feel Young Spa’ on the front. They go up to the front desk "Hello and Welcome to ‘Feel Young Spa’ the receptionist greets them. “Hello, we booked today. Our names are Vicky and Ellie.” The receptionist checks the computer. “Yes, right. That looks fine. If you don't mind following this gentleman here and he will take you to your first treatment.” We follow the man and are led into a tiled changing room with two white dressing gowns. “If you would like to take off your clothes and change into these dressing gowns and wait here, someone will be here for you shortly.” He leaves and we start undressing. We finished undressing and waited in the gowns. 5 minutes later, a woman entered the changing room. “Are you guys ready?" She asks and leads them into a room with two massage tables in the middle of it. “Ok, If you could lay down on your back and your waxing will begin soon.” She said, pointing to two tables. Vicky and Ellie lay down on the tables and wait patiently and 2 people walk through the door. “Right, who is Ellie?” Says one of them. She raises her hand. “Right you're mum signed you up for a full wax and relaxation package and Vicky you’ve got a waxing” says. “Can you put these towel round your waist?” We take the robes off and wrap them round our body. “To relax you further, please put on these headphones.” The lady places them on Ellie. On the headphones is peaceful, soothing music. Vicky looks over at Ellie and smiles that she is accepting this. Ellie winces a little bit every time that the wax strips are pulled off but the music keeps her relaxed. Ellie is so relaxed that she doesn't realise that the lady has finished waxing her and starting rubbing oil, herbs and chemicals into her body. Ellie smiles, enjoying it. What Ellie doesn't know is that Vicky has signed her up for the extreme mind stress reliever. This treatment uses hypnosis to mentally regress her mind to a much less stressful time and Vicky has chosen for her to become a 6 month old baby. Included in the package is treatments for Vicky. She will receive some drugs that will make her lactate and be able to carry her new baby. The lady taps Ellie on her shoulder and she opens her eyes and takes one side of the headphones off. “Yes?” Elle says. “Right I’ve put the oils on you so I’ll leave you to soak in them for 10 mins and I’ll be back. Lay back and I’ll check on you then”. The lady says as she starts to leave. She places the headphones back on and closes her eyes. She relaxes again, not bothering to look at Vicky who is talking to the lady. “When will her hypnosis take effect?” Vicky asks. “It will take effect once the clock hits midnight. Your changes will take effect once you get home” the lady says “also you ticked the home changes right?” She nods. “Right, when you get home, everything will be set up but don’t let her see till the next night.” I nod. The lady goes to Ellie and taps her on the shoulder again. “How do you feel? Do you feel relaxed and all nice?” She smiles and says “Oh yes. That felt brilliant. I needed that. I feel so relaxed and my skin feels so smooth and even down there feels nice. What’s next?” “Your next treatment is a mud bath, so get dressed in your gown and follow me” the lady said, opening the door. “Can I keep the headphones on while I enjoy the mud bath?” Ellie asks. “Sure, you wear them all day here” the lady replied. Ellie looked pleased. All three of them walk down the corridor and Ellie is still listening to the music. They all enter the room and there are mud baths full to the brim with mud. Vicky and Ellie slip off the gowns and enter the mud baths. The mud bath feels weird at first but it’s so relaxing. “I feel so relaxed mum. I’m glad we decided to come here.” Ellie says take your headphones off. “Well, I’m pleased to hear that cause you seemed so stressed with all that work. Now let’s soak still in the mud and enjoy the rest of our treatments” Vicky replied, closing her hers and disappearing under the mud. Ellie couldn't do that as the headphones would get dirty. About 30 mins later, the lady came back and told Vicky and Ellie that their session and treatment was over. Ellie took off the headphones and got into the showers and washed the mud off. “Mum you look great, your skin looks youthful.” Ellie says. “Thanks Ellie, you're not looking too bad either, looks like the oils and mud bath is doing your skin good” Vicky replies. A little milk trickles out from her breast but as she is showering, it gets washed away unnoticed. They dry themselves and head to the changing rooms. They head out past the receptionist. “Hope you had a great time. Please spread the word around that we are here” she says with a smile on her face. “Oh we had a lovely time, did we Ellie?” Vicky asks her daughter. “Oh yes, just what I needed. I’ll come again and spread the word.” Ellie says, smiling back. Vicky turns round and wink at the receptionist and she winks back. They head back to the car and arrive home a few minutes later. “I’ll get the wine and you switch on the tv and you choose the channel, Ellie” Vicky said heading into the kitchen. Ellie sits down on the sofa and switched onto an old episode of Friends. Vicky comes out of the kitchen bringing out 2 glasses of wine and hands one to Ellie. “We’ll just have the one glass and then bed ok?” “Ok mum” Ellie replies, raising the glass to her mouth. 20 mins later, the episode had finished, their wine was finished and both were tired. “Well, it’s bedtime. Let’s go, Ellie” Vicky says, getting up from the sofa. “Ok mum, I’m coming” Ellie says groggily. They head upstairs into each of our rooms. The moment Ellie disappears into her room and shuts the door, Vicky sneaks into the spare room to see what the spa people have done. She opens the door and Vicky's heart flutters. The room has been emptied of all the junk and replaced with the cutest baby furniture. It would be for a baby but it’s for Ellie instead so it’s bigger than normal. The room has been painted pink with cartoon animals painted over the walls. There is a white cot along one of the walls and above that is Ellie’s name in grey letters surrounded by a white cloud. In the corner is a nursing chair and a stool. The changing table is white like the cot and on it is a pink changing mat with white hearts. Underneath it, is stacks of diapers, wipes and baby powder. On the floor is a pink rug that covers the floor. Standing behind her is a pink wardrobe. Vicky opens the doors and her heart melts again. Inside are the cutest onesies and dresses hanging up or folded. There is a second compartment with bows, booties and assorted items. Vicky closes the wardrobe and takes in the nursery. “I can’t wait to show Ellie this,” I say to myself. She quietly heads out and closes and locks the door and walks to her room and with a smile on my face, she goes to bed. Meanwhile in Ellie's room, she is having a weird dream. She is 6 months old and everyone is cooing and cawing at her. Ellie tries to talk but just gurgles and drools. She sees her mum come into view. Vicky reaches down and tickles her tummy and Ellie giggles. A strange feeling is in her tummy for a brief moment and a grunt escapes her. Ellie feels a squishy feeling in her bottom and a warm wet feeling around her crotch. She starts crying. Ellie suddenly wakes up looking around and sighing that it was just a dream. She glances over at the clock on the wall and sees that it is 11:00. She closed her eyes again and fell back to sleep again without dreaming again. One hour later the hypnosis starts working. Ellie starts to feel a bit uneasy and turns in her sleep. Gradually her thumb works its way up to her mouth and her thumb enters her mouth and she starts suckling it and Ellie calms down and eases in her sleep. The alarm clock goes off and Ellie opens her eyes. She realises that her thumb is in her mouth and she pulls it out. “That was weird and so was the dream. Anyway, time for breakfast”. She walks downstairs and spots her mum sitting at the sofa drinking her tea. Ellie decided not to tell Vicky about the weird dream, putting it down to the stress of her work. “Thanks for the spa day yesterday mum. I really needed it.” Ellie told her mum. “I feel well relaxed and I can get down and continue my college work.” Vicky stopped drinking her tea. “No worries but I really hoped you would relax a bit longer and take a break from your work.” Her mum looked worried. “I can’t do that mummy.” Ellie looked shocked that she said that and like a kid. “I mean mum. I have an important assignment due in 2 days and it will help me pass.” Ellie said, still embarrassed that she talked like a kid. Vicky acted like she didn’t hear it and just nodded. “Do what you need to do hun. Just remember to take breaks”. Ellie nods and gets her breakfast ready. She pours the cereal in the bowl and pour milk into it and takes it to her bedroom. She puts it on her work table and starts up her laptop and Ellie starts her work. Ellie is busy working on her laptop when an ache from her bladder signals that it’s time for the toilet. Ellie runs to the toilet, pulls down her panties and sits on the loo just in time. She felt that if she waited a little longer, she would have wet her pants. After emptying her bladder, Ellie wipes herself and pulls up her panties and heads back to her room to continue her work. Ellie's tummy rumbles and she reaches over to the bowl of cereal and starts eating and finishes the whole bowl and drinks the cereal milk. She wipes her mouth and continues with her work. Elle had just finished a chapter of her work, when her bladder signals that it's full. “Not again, I don't need it again now”. Another ache and she runs to the toilet again just in time as her bladder muscles release her wee as soon as her bottom hits the seat. “That cereal must have gone through me. Well I don't need to go for a while now.” Ellie cleans herself up and heads back to her room to finish the 2nd part of her work. Ellie sits down on the chair but suddenly stands up as she feels a small damp spot on her panties. Shocked on how she could have a damp spot as she's been toilet trained for 18 years. Ellie quickly whips off her panties and opens her drawer to wear a new pair of panties. She pulls up the new pair and looks at the damp pair asking herself if she should go down to her mum and tell her. After a minute, Ellie decides against it and tells herself that it's just probably just the stress of starting her college work again. She goes downstairs and goes into the living room and switches on the tv to de-stress herself. The tv channel is being changed and stops onto a show called New girl which she loves. 20 mins into the show, Ellie starts to get bored, which is weird as she is usually captivated by it, and she tries to reach down for the remote, she realises that her hand is stuck to her mouth and that she's been sucking on her thumb without her realising. She pulls it out, embarrassed “Why do I keep doing that? I'm not a damn baby! Maybe it's just all this stress with work”. Ellie grabs the remote and starts changing the channel until something catches her eye. Flashes of programs appear on the tv: a cooking show, a nature show, a baby show, a dog behaviour show and a shopping show. Ellie goes to the dog behaviour show and watches it for a few minutes. They are training dogs to do various tricks. Vicky enters the living room and sits beside Ellie. “What on?” “I’m watching a doggie pwogramme….. dog programme.” Ellie looks embarrassed at her speech slur but Vicky pretends not to notice it. “Cute. You finished your work?” “I just need a break mum but it’s nearly done” Ellie replied not taking her eyes of the dog show. As she was answering, a dribble of drool fell from her lips and fell onto her top. Ellie shook her head and wiped the remaining drool from her lips and wiped her top but it still had a drool stain. Vicky looked at Ellie with a mixture of excitement and anticipation with how well it’s progressing. Suddenly Ellie runs upstairs and quickly sits on the toilet and feels her bladder empty but something feels wrong. She suddenly realises that she hasn’t pulled her panties down and is now sitting on the toilet in soaked underwear. Ellie starts crying with her head in her hands. The door opens up and Vicky sees her daughter crying. “What’s wrong?” Ellie looks up and sees her mum standing there. “I forgot to pull my knickers down to wee and also this is the 3rd time I needed the toilet today. I think something is wrong with me! I need to see the doctor.” Vicky walks up to her daughter. “Right I’ll book one for the morning but take a nap and I’m sure you’ll feel better.” Ellie nodded her head but realised that her thumb was in her mouth again and started crying and hugged her mum. Vicky was smiling inside that the hypnosis is progressing nicely. She led Ellie (with difficulty as she was still hugging her) to the bedroom. They both enter Ellie’s bedroom and Ellie started changing her wet knickers and cleaning her legs with wet wipes while Vicky looks at her phone. “Right, that’s the doctors appointment booked for tomorrow afternoon. Let’s get a good night's sleep. I’m sure it’s just stress.” Vicky says hugging her daughter as Ellie puts on clean knickers. Ellie puts on a pink top and lays down on bed and Vicky exits the room closing the door. As she closes the door, Vicky smiles that the hypnosis is working and soon she’ll have her little girl back again. In the bedroom, Ellie is drifting off to sleep and as her eyes close, her hand makes its way up the bed and her thumb enters her mouth, starts sucking on it and drifts into a peaceful sleep.

Hey everyone and welcome to my new story! It has the same title as a story I began a few years ago and since deleted as I wasn’t satisfied with it. Completely different story apart from it revolves around British characters visiting the US. Hope you enjoy! ————— Chapter 1 “Have you got everything?” Kerry said as she joined her son Ben at the end of the airport security scanner conveyor belt. “Yeah all good, I’m glad my bag didn’t get pulled to the side for any searches!” Ben said as he picked up his suitcase and set it down on its wheels. “Oh they rarely do. Shall we go and get some breakfast?” Kerry suggested as she led him towards the vast duty free area of Heathrow Terminal 5. Although it felt like it, this was far from a holiday for Ben. Only a few months after his nineteenth birthday, his mother had decided now was the right time to look at out of the box solutions to a problem that had plagued him for most of his life. At least 4 or 5 mornings a week, Ben would wake up either with wet bedsheets or a soaking adult nappy. They had visited multiple doctors and specialists and none of them could get to the bottom of why he was having trouble staying dry at night, and it was becoming a real concern for Kerry who realised he’d soon want to be moving out and starting a life on his own. For this reason, and after days of research, she’d found a clinic in the US that specialised in bedwetting in teens and adults that seemingly had a 90%+ success rate. Luckily for her she worked as an accountant and was also boosted by generational wealth so it was no problem paying the associated fees to get her son to this clinic. After some pushback he reluctantly agreed to take the trip and she decided she’d accompany him to make sure he was buying into the treatment. “So looking at the itinerary, I think the clinic has a taxi ready for us when we land at JFK!” Kerry said as she held her phone in one hand. “That’s cool. Mum are you absolutely sure about this? I looked up the clinic and they don’t have much information on their website. Is it definitely legit?” Ben asked. “Ben don’t worry sweety. I’ve spoken to them on the phone quite a few times and they are definitely real, and the results speak for themselves. This could really change your life. Now come on and finish up your breakfast, we’ve got to get you ready for the flight before we go to our gate” Kerry ordered. Ben scoffed the remains of his beans on toast and him and Kerry made their way to the nearest toilets. As Ben was about to head into the men’s toilets, his mum grabbed his arm and stopped him. “I think it’ll be a good idea if I give you a hand, let’s go in here” Kerry said as she led him into the disabled toilet, with no fight from Ben. Kerry grabbed Ben’s bag and opened it up, revealing a stack of Goodnites next to a stack of Tena Slip Maxi’s. Ben’s mood dropped when she saw him pick up the latter. “It’s a long flight and you’ll probably fall asleep so I think it’s best you go with a nappy Ben okay?” Kerry explained. “Mum don’t call it that!” Ben snapped back. “Sorry, I mean a ‘Tena’. Hop up on there” Kerry corrected herself as she pointed towards the changing table. Ben reluctantly hopped on and allowed his mum to strap him into a nappy. This had become a regular occurrence most mornings and he was beyond the point of embarrassment. Once he was strapped in he stood up and pulled his grey joggers over the top of the nappy. His bum looked slightly flat but thankfully it wasn’t overly obvious he was wearing a nappy. They then left the toilets and took the long journey over to their gate ready to board the flight. There was already a queue but Kerry had purchased priority boarding so it wasn’t long before they were heading down the walkway towards the plane door. “Welcome onboard” the air stewardess said in her American accent. Ben couldn’t help but slyly look her up and down and admired her tight pencil dress and he thought how incredibly hot she was. He nodded and she smiled back, which made him blush. “Here we are Ben, do you want the window seat?” Kerry asked as she placed both of their bags in the overhead locker. “Yes please” Ben replied as he shuffled over the aisle and the middle seat before plopping down on his seat. Kerry saw his nappy poke up over his joggers as he shuffled across the seats. Ben then quickly got to work scanning the in-flight entertainment and discovered that there were loads of new movies he hadn’t seen yet and smiled at the thought of watching a few. The plane quickly filled up and before he knew it they were preparing for takeoff. All of the pre-flight rituals were being carried out and he just stared out the window waiting to watch the plane take off so he could get a view of the English countryside disappear into the clouds. Once they had taken off, Ben was preparing to settle down to watch Deadpool vs Wolverine. He looked over at his mum who was reading one of her many novels she loved reading. “Mum I’m going to watch a film now so don’t expect me to respond if you try and talk to me!” Ben said as he nudged his mum’s arm. “Okay sweety” Kerry replied not even looking up from her book. Ben placed his headphones back onto his ears and he locked into the film. After about 45 minutes or so he began to feel his eyes getting heavy and despite fighting for another 20 minutes or so, he succumbed to tiredness. They had had a very early start getting to the airport and his lack of sleep had caught up with him. Despite his eagerness to watch the film, he just couldn’t stay awake. He was jolted awake by a crescendo in the third act of the film, and simply opened his eyes as if he’d not missed any of it. As the credits rolled, he sat up from his slunched position and looked around the plane to see everyone preoccupied by the screens in front of them. As he sat up straight, he noticed an all-to familiar sensation and his exploring left hand confirmed his suspicions. His crotch felt puffier than it did when he first sat down and he concluded that he must’ve wet himself after falling asleep. It wasn’t completely soaked but his Tena was noticeably bulkier than before. Annoyed with himself but not at all surprised, he looked over to his mum who had now also fallen asleep. After debating in his head, he decided to nudge her arm a few times to wake her up. “Mum. Mum!” Ben whispered. Eventually she woke up. “Yes Ben? Is your film finished?” Kerry asked. “Yeah it has. But it’s not that” Ben said quietly. “Oh, did you fall asleep?” Kerry said as she looked down at his lap. “Is it that noticeable?” Ben asked as he looked down as well. “No no I just know what you’ve got on underneath! How wet is it?” Kerry asked. “Doesn’t seem too bad but I definitely wet it” Ben said quietly, trying not to catch the attention of anyone around them. “Well we’ve only got just under 2 hours until we land and the toilets are too small on here for me to change you so you might have to just sit in it until we’re in America. Can you manage that?” Kerry explained. “Yeah okay mum” Ben agreed. For the rest of the flight, Ben made sure not to fall asleep again in order to avoid any further wettings. Once they had landed, both Kerry and Ben headed to the toilet where she changed him out of his wet nappy and back into some stripy red and grey boxers, which he much preferred. After a good hour getting through security, they retrieved their bags and headed to the exit of the airport. “Oh look there’s our ride!” Kerry said as she pointed towards a tall brunette woman holding up an iPad with their names on, and the logo of the clinic underneath. “Kerry and Benjamin Chandler? Welcome to the United States! Ready to go?” The woman greeted them. “All good, great to be here. Thank you so much for picking us up” Kerry replied. “Our pleasure. It’s all part of the package! Let me take your bags” the woman then placed their bags on a trolley and they headed to the parking lot, where they were bundled into a large black people carrier. As they got in the back they marvelled at the lavish interior complete with leather seats and an ice bucket with bottles of water inside. They also noticed a screen just in front of the front seats. “You guys get comfortable, we’ll be at the clinic in an hour or so. As part of onboarding, the clinic have created this welcome movie for you guys to watch. It’ll set it to play once we hit the road” the woman explained. “That’s amazing thank you so much. I never caught your name?” Kerry enquired. “Oh of course. My name is Maria. I’ll let you guys relax and let you know when we arrive. Enjoy the journey!” Maria replied. A pane of glass then hummed from the ceiling and shut them off to the front seats and the TV screen booted up. After a few minutes it began to play a video. “On behalf of the Rockaway Clinic, we’d like to welcome you to the United States. My name is Dr Luna Jones, lead doctor at the clinic. This video is to put any nerves at ease and help you get to know what we’re all about” the tall, beautiful blonde woman, who looked no older than 40, explained as she stood in front of the futuristic white building. For the next 45 minutes, both Kerry and Ben watched a tour of the clinic. It looked like a super modern version of the private clinics they’d been to in England and they were shown case studies of other ‘residents’ varying in age and gender. Admittedly it did what Dr Jones said and it did calm Ben’s nerves, it looked quite nice and everyone seemed very friendly. Before they knew it the car eased past a set of big security gates and the clinic came into view. “Here we are, welcome to the Rockaway Clinic!” Maria said as she pulled up to the main entrance. As Kerry and Ben stepped out, two members of staff opened the boot and took their bags as Maria guided them into reception. As the doors opened, they were met by the sight of Dr Jones herself. “Kerry and Benjamin, welcome were so glad to see you! How was the flight?” Dr Jones asked as she shook both of their hands. “It was very smooth actually, this place is incredible!” Kerry said in awe of the building she was in. “Thank you, we’re very proud of it! I know you guys are probably tired but would you like to start the induction process? How does that sound Benjamin?” Dr Jones asked directly. “Yeah okay, thanks Dr Jones” Ben replied. “Let’s get this show on the road then! And please, call me Luna” she replied as she led them into one of the induction rooms. It looked like an doctors office with a desk and some accompanying chairs. Luna sat at the desk and Kerry and Ben sat on the chairs to the right of her. “So hopefully the video you watched on the journey here has done some ground work for me but I’ll cut to the chase. As you know our clinic specialises in treating, and hopefully curing, nocturnal enuresis. Now you’ve obviously been super helpful filling in all the necessary paperwork prior to arriving but I’d just like to ask a few questions” Luna explained. “Benjamin are you happy to answer a few for me?”. “Yep happy to” Ben replied. He was used to this considering the amount of doctors he’d seen. “First question. How often do you wake up with a wet bed, or wet protection?” Luna asked as she began making notes. “Maybe 4 or 5 times a week” Ben answered. “Okay. And you were protection every night? What type of protection?” Luna continued. “I do. And sometimes I wear Goodnites, sometimes Tenas” Ben answered confidently. “Great. And on a scale of 1 to practically unconscious, how deep do you sleep?” Luna asked. “Probably an 8 or 9” Ben estimated. “Brilliant thank you so much Benjamin. Those were helpful answers, but you’ve also shown maturity and acceptance of your condition. That’s sometimes hard to get from some of our residents” Luna explained. “So a few things you need to know during your stay. Firstly you’ve been allocated a twin dormitory on site which has everything you need for your stay. Full catering is available, as well as fitness and entertainment facilities” Luna elaborated. “Wow sounds amazing! Weird question, but what’s expected of me during treatment?” Kerry asked. “No problem. Of course you’ll be providing moral support to Benjamin, but we also like partners and parents to be an active part of treatment so you’ll be getting involved at certain points. When you are not needed, there are plenty of others here in your position so feel free to socialise with them” Luna said. “So Benjamin a few things for you as you’ll be the one receiving treatment. In order to encourage our other residents to feel at ease and equal to others, you’ll be provided with clothing that you’ll be expected to wear during your stay, which are in the changing room next door”. Ben was slightly surprised by that. He’d packed two weeks worth of clothes which have now been rendered useless and he was anxious to see what this ‘uniform’ looked like. “Okayyy” he said rather nervously. “Your treatment starts officially tomorrow, but part of that includes providing you with certain supplements and nutritional extras so your diet will be controlled as part of treatment. It’s totally harmless and everything we do will be to help treat and cure your condition. I understand you signed the contract before arrival?” Luna enquired. “Yes we did. That’s all covered” Kerry replied on Ben’s behalf. “Perfect! So next steps are for you to get changed Ben while I go through some of the boring legal stuff with your mom. It’s just through the door there” Luna pointed at a wooden door on the opposite side of the room. Ben looked at Kerry, who looked back at him with an approving nod. “See you in a second” Kerry said lovingly. He then stood up and walked towards the door. As he opened it he was met with the sight of a changing room not to dissimilar to a changing room in a clothes shop back home. It had a mirror, bench and a coat hook which had a hanger with a suit bag hung on it. He slipped off his shoes and began to unzip the bag. He saw a white tracksuit with white trousers, a white t-shirt and a soft zip up jacket all emblazoned with the clinic logo. The trousers and jacket had a grey stripe down the arms and legs. As he pulled out the clothes he noticed that there was a pocket which had a pair of plain white underwear in it. He was surprised that the uniform included underwear but accepted it for what it was. But as he pulled them out he noticed they were briefs, which he was absolutely not used to. Back in Britain, men his age did absolutely not wear briefs and they were seen as childish and infantile, he hadn’t worn them since he was a little boy. After some hesitation, he began to undress himself and put on his new ‘uniform’, complete with his new underwear. It was quite comfortable, apart from the briefs which felt weird. As he looked in the mirror, he actually looked pretty cool he thought; as if he was an athlete getting ready to walk out onto the pitch. After one final look he folded his own clothes and walked out to see Luna and Kerry going over some documents. “Looking good Benjamin! Maria is waiting outside to take you to your dormitory. I’ll see you in the morning for your first day of treatment! Have a lovely evening” Luna said as the door opened to the sight of Maria. “Thank you so much Luna, we can’t wait to get started can we!” Kerry said excitedly as Ben nodded along. Maria then led them down multiple corridors, some with doors that had signs on such as ‘Treatment Room 1’, ‘Communal Room 3’ and ‘Transition Room 6’. Some had red and orange labels on them and some didn’t. Additionally, some corridors had sights of outdoor spaces and gardens. They also passed couples varying in age, with some clearly parent and child and some husband and wife. What was consistent is that one of the pair was wearing exactly the same tracksuit as Ben, but some had different red or orange pin badges. He wondered what they signified. “Here we are. You’re room 056. Inside is a manual and all the timings and dates you need. Dinner is served at 6pm, so you’ve got an hour or so to get settled. See you there I’m sure!” Maria explained as she turned and walked back down the corridor. Kerry unlocked the door with the key card and they were met with a spacious white room complete with two double beds, a living area with a TV and a huge bathroom. There was also another door next to the bathroom door but it seemed to be locked. “Wow look at this Ben! Incredible!” Kerry said. “Our bags are here too”. “I shotgun this bed!” Ben said as he jumped on the bed closest to the floor to ceiling window, which looked over a vast garden complete with a pond and loads of benches. He saw more couples and families walking around and enjoying the clinic. “Okay okay. I’ll unpack, are these the clothes you were wearing?” Kerry said as she picked up the pile of folded clothes he had just taken off. “Oh, are these your boxers? Did they give you some new ones?” Kerry asked as she saw his stripes boxers on top of the pile. “Oh yeah they did. I thought it was a bit weird too, they aren’t even boxers” Ben explained. “What do you mean?” Kerry asked. “They aren’t boxers, they are briefs. I think the Americans call them ‘tightey whiteys’” Ben joked. “Ha ha ha that’s so funny! Let’s see” Kerry asked. “No way!” Ben said as he stood up at the end of the bed. Without warning, she yanked down his white trousers. “Aww they are so cute! You’ve not worn pants like that since you were a little boy!” Kerry teased. “Mum please!” Ben said as he quickly pulled up his trousers. “I’m only teasing you, I’m just excited to be here. I think this is the answer to all our problems this place!” Kerry said as she picked up the laminated piece of paper on the desk which was labelled ‘Daily Schedule’.

Tobi’s little life Chapter One - Back to Diapers Tobi was a late bloomer, he had heard all of his friends talking about “porn” & “masturbating” for years before he was interested in any of that stuff. “How often do you wank” asked Tommy “A couple times a week” replied Tobi, acting as if he had ever done it before He went to an all boys school from the ages of 11-16, an interesting way for a boy to go through his formative years. Being surrounded by boys during puberty certainly had an impact on the lad. Talking to girls was nerve wracking, and it was difficult to even meet one! Tobi had never tried this “masturbating” thing that all the boys in school had been talking about, but one night decided to. He watched as two women doing all sorts of things he had only heard about, but never witnessed. He tried it, and he didn’t like it. Whether it was the gender, or a lack of maturity, he was not sure. It was simply of no interest. However, Tobi did have a fascination. As a young boy he watched a cartoon in which a character was turned into back into a baby, diapers and all. This made him feel funny, and his penis was erect. Little did he know, this was the beginning something very unique to him. Tobi liked diapers. He didn’t know why, but he did. He remembered seeing a green packet under the bath, picking them up to see a brand name written on them, “Drynites”. The package stated that they were for ages 7-10, he was 14 but little for his age. Tobi stood at about 5”0 tall, and had a baby face, he was often mistaken for younger than he was, which caused lots of embarrassment throughout the years. Adults would think he was the little brother, when in reality he was the second oldest of three. Tobi remembered these diapers, and searched for them. They were not longer under the bath, but after a little while he found them in the bathroom cupboard. “Yay” thought Tobi, happy his mum hadn’t got rid of them yet. He assumed they were his older brothers old diapers for wetting the bed, as he had no memories of doing so as a child, or wearing any sort of protection. He definitely didn’t beyond the age of seven! During his life, Tobi had a few accidents in childhood. His only memories at bedtime were from when he was very little, remembering how he had pooped his bed whilst sleeping (probably around age 4), and his mum had helped him clean up. Also, at around 12 years old he had a dream of using the toilet. Tobi began to pee in the dream toilet, only to suddenly realise things weren’t actually real! There was a small wet patch on the bed & his pajama bottoms too, this had never happened to him before. Sleeping on the other side of the bed was Tobi’s solution to the issue, and the wetness had dried by morning. In terms of daytime, he did recall a number of occasions where he had stuffed wet undies down the side of his old dresser, after coming home from school. As a child he would leak a little bit of pee in his pants after holding it for a while, nothing noticeable but enough to make his underwear wet. He had a little bit of trouble holding it during primary school. Around Christmas time, when Tobi was seven years old, he was in maths class. The urge to pee had built up, and being a little boy (with a small bladder), he couldn’t wait. His hand shot up, attempting to get the attention of the teacher, however the effort was futile. “Miss, can i g-“ “Not now Tobi, I’m busy sorting out the Christmas cards” replied Miss April Tobi was a good boy and he never disobeyed his teachers, he had never even got a detention! So he sat there, the pressure building until he had a brilliant idea. “If i just let a little bit out then I won’t need to go as bad” thought Tobi, who was now bursting to use the toilet. The naive boy put his plan into action, attempting to pee his underwear just a little bit. As he let go for a momentary release, he was shocked to realise his little bladder could not stop the flow! The little release turned into a flood, the boy was peeing his pants completely, the plan had failed. Warm pee pooled in his pants, leaving a puddle on his chair. The black school trousers were now soaked, he had never been so humiliated in his life. Tobi got up and ran to the boys toilets, hiding in a stall. The tears began, this was all too much for a seven year old boy to handle. He was much too big to be wetting himself, and doing it during class made the event all the more humiliating. Eventually a teacher came in and gave him a new pair of pants, as well as undies. He got changed, with mum picking the distraught boy up. The following day Miss April announced to the class that if you need to go to the toilet badly, then you can just go. “Would’ve been nice to know that earlier” he said in his mind. Fast forwarding, Tobi decided he wanted to try one of the old drynites he had found years previously. It was the night before his 15th birthday when the boy dreamed up another one of his schemes. Quietly, he snuck to the bathroom after everybody in the house was asleep, ready to try diapers for the first time in at least 11 years. Cautiously, he swung open the cupboard and found what he had been so fascinated by. A small green packet, with pictures of kids smiling in their pajamas, and a count of 9 diapers on the side. Some were missing already, but this was like an unfinished melody to the boy. He opened the package, taking one of the plain white pull-ups out, just staring at it. They were soft as snow, and white to pair, crinkling in his hands. Tobi stripped his pajamas, and pulled on the drynite. For the first time in 11 years, the adolescent boy was once again had a snug diaper around his waist…