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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!

The Price of Innocence Chapter 1: The Proposition The air in the old antique shop had been thick with dust and secrets the day eighteen-year-old Sarah found the orb. Its silver surface was cool in her palm, humming with a faint, unsettling pulse. It was a peculiar thing, and as she examined it, the elderly shopkeeper, with eyes that seemed to hold ancient secrets, leaned in conspiratorially. "That one," he rasped, "has a touch of old magic to it. They say it can let you see the world through different eyes... feel what it's truly like to walk in another's skin." Sarah dismissed it as an old man's whimsical sales pitch, but a seed of curiosity was undeniably planted. Tonight, babysitting four-year-old Lily, a tangle of energy and vulnerability, seemed the perfect time for a daring experiment. Lily was a sweet girl, but she struggled with potty training, navigating her days in Pull-Ups and needing thicker diapers for bed. Sarah, with the reckless confidence of youth, saw a unique opportunity. It wasn't just about the thrill of a potential magical swap; it was a chance to step inside Lily’s world, to understand her struggles, and perhaps, to prove that mastering something like potty training wasn't so difficult after all. "Lily," Sarah whispered, a spark of wild excitement in her voice. "Forget boring games. This is my magic toy. The shopkeeper said it might let people swap bodies. What if... you could be a big teenager, and I could be little you? Just for pretend, of course! We could see what it's really like!" To a four-year-old, the idea shimmered like a fairytale. "Really? Be like you?" Lily breathed, her usual bedtime anxieties replaced by awe. "Yep! Just for pretend," Sarah confirmed, holding out the orb, a thrill of anticipation mixed with genuine skepticism. The weight of it suddenly felt significant. "Just touch it with me." A shared touch sent the room dissolving into a nauseating rush of light. When it cleared, Sarah gasped, utterly stunned. She was small, looking up at a world that had quadrupled in size. Her own body stood before her, animated by Lily's delighted giggles. "I'm Sarah! It worked!" squealed Lily, the voice her own teenager's but pitched with a child's pure glee. Inhabiting the taller form, she bounced on the balls of Sarah's feet, unsteady but thrilled. She marveled at her newfound height, the effortless reach to the top of the bookshelf, the simple grace of her long limbs. A wide, childish grin spread across Sarah's face as Lily twirled, her arms outstretched. "It... it actually worked!" Sarah whispered, her tiny hand flying to her mouth in disbelief, her mind reeling from the impossible reality of it. The casual "just for pretend" had evaporated, replaced by a surge of adrenaline and a thrilling, terrifying wonder. "Okay! Game on!" Sarah cheered, her own voice now a reedy, high-pitched sound that felt utterly foreign. A strange mix of fascination and unease churned in her gut. Her hands were impossibly tiny, her movements clumsy in this miniature body. The world had become a towering landscape of giant furniture and distant doorknobs. Yet, beneath the initial shock, her adult mind remained sharp, frantically trying to process the surreal change. For the next couple of hours, Sarah led the play. "Come on, Lily-Sarah! Let's build a tower!" she instructed, her tone firm despite her chirping voice. Lily, surprisingly adaptable, followed her lead, her oversized hands fumbling with blocks and cars. Sarah, enjoying the novelty, patiently demonstrated how to maneuver her own longer limbs, how to open child-proof cabinets, and how to balance on one foot. Lily (as Sarah) stumbled a bit, her stride awkward, but she seemed to enjoy the novelty of her new size and strength, trying to mimic Sarah's (as Lily's) movements. As dusk settled, Sarah felt a growing urgency. She needed to make her point about potty training. "Okay, Lily!" she announced, her voice a little more strained now. "Time for a new game! I'm going to show you how easy it is to go potty!" She looked up at her own body, which now held a familiar four-year-old pout. Her heart sank. This wasn't going to be as simple as she'd hoped. Trying to sound encouraging, she scrambled off the floor and headed for the small bathroom. She pulled down the dry pull-up and used the potty without help, a triumphant smile on her small face. The simple act felt like a victory, a clear demonstration of capability meant for the girl watching from Sarah's height. She emerged moments later, beaming up at her own towering form. "See, Lily?" Instead of inspiration, she was met with a stubborn frown twisting her teenage features. "Hmmph," Lily grumbled, the sound a deep vibration in Sarah's chest that felt deeply wrong. "I don't like that game. You're not playing 'little Sarah' right. I think it's time for bed, and I'm the big helper." Her voice firm with childish authority, Lily declared, "First, let's get your big clothes off and put on your pajamas." She began to gently but firmly undress "little Sarah," praising her for the dry pull-up, like her own mother would have done. Sarah stiffened, humiliation creeping in as her clothes were efficiently removed, her mind racing with desperate strategies to get Lily to swap them back. Lily's gaze then fell on the package of Pampers Baby-Dry diapers next to the bed—the bulky, taped ones used only at night. Seeing this as the ultimate act of control in her game, she insisted on the routine. With Sarah's own surprisingly capable hands, she laid "little Sarah" down on the changing pad. The cool plastic was a shock against Sarah's skin. "No, wait!" she protested, her small voice barely a squeak, tinged with growing panic. "I don't need that! I'm not a baby! We need to switch back now!" But Lily merely smiled, a soft, indulgent expression on Sarah's features. "Silly little Sarah," she cooed. With practiced motions, she unfastened a fresh diaper. The plastic rustled loudly in the silence as the thick, padded bulk was secured around Sarah's waist. The unfamiliar fabric was alien and infantilizing. Every instinct in Sarah's adult mind revolted as her own hands, controlled by a child, secured the tapes. Lily then pulled a soft, pink nightshirt over Sarah's head, the cartoon character on the front another sting of humiliation. "There we go," Lily murmured, echoing her own mother's soothing tone. "All snug and ready for sleepy time." She patted the diapered bottom with a sense of accomplishment before tucking Sarah into the small bed. "Need a song, little Sarah?" Lily asked. Sarah wanted to scream, to demand they switch back. But a heavy, insistent wave of sleepiness, the natural fatigue of a four-year-old's body, washed over her. Her eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Lily began to sing a nursery rhyme in Sarah's alto voice. It was surreal, the familiar melody in her own voice feeling both alien and compelling. Despite her fear and distress, Sarah felt herself being pulled down, deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. The singing, the warmth of the covers pressing down, the exhaustion from the long, strange evening, all combined, pulling her down. She drifted off, trapped, the sound of her own voice singing her to sleep. A short while later, Sarah heard Lily's parents' voices. "She's fast asleep," Lily (as Sarah) said brightly. "And she was very good tonight!" Lily's mother chuckled. "Oh, that's wonderful, Sarah! Thank you so much." With a final "Goodnight, sweetie," directed at the sleeping form in the bed, they left, taking Lily and, implicitly, the silver orb with them. Sarah was left alone in the darkened room, the weight of the diaper a tangible, undeniable truth against her skin, the sound of her own voice fading with her fading consciousness, leaving her truly abandoned. Chapter 2: The Unraveling She woke with a gasp to immediate disorientation. The room was vast, the ceiling impossibly high, the furniture looming like giants. Then the physical reality hit her: a heavy, cold dampness pressed against her skin. The crinkle of plastic followed as she shifted. The distinct smell. She, Sarah, had wet the diaper. Shame, hot and immediate, flooded her. A burning tide rising from her chest and spreading through her tiny limbs. It wasn't a dream, was it? No, this was too real. But how could it be? The shopkeeper's words had been a sales pitch, her game with Lily just pretend. Yet here she was, in Lily's four-year-old body. Panic clawed at her throat, a silent scream trapped inside her small chest. Every instinct screamed for escape, for the familiar ease of her adult body, for the autonomy she’d taken for granted. Was she going crazy? Was this some elaborate hallucination? But she heard movement outside the room – Lily's mother's soft, approaching footsteps. She had to play the part. Trapped, helpless, she forced herself to make a small, sleepy whimper, acting the part of a wet four-year-old waking up uncomfortable. "Time for a change, sweetie," Mrs. Gable said with her usual morning kindness, but for Sarah, the routine words were a fresh wave of mortification. This was the start of a brutal routine. The dread intensified as she was lifted onto the changing pad. The sound of the tapes peeling open seemed to echo the tearing of her own sanity. Was this truly happening? Was she really trapped? Or was this just a vivid, prolonged dream from which she couldn't wake? She lay stiff with shame while her body was cleaned. The cool wipe a stark sensation against her skin, a grotesque parody of the self-care she'd taken for granted for years. She was handled like an infant, passive and utterly helpless, her eighteen-year-old mind screaming protests no one could hear. After being cleaned up, she was put into a fresh, relatively thin pull-up for the day, a stark contrast to the thick night diaper. The morning routine continued, a bewildering immersion into the life of a four-year-old. Breakfast was a struggle with tiny utensils and food cut into miniature pieces. Mrs. Gable's patient encouragement felt condescending to Sarah's adult mind. After breakfast, driven by a desperate need to assert some control, Sarah made her way to the bathroom. Her steps were clumsy, her balance still off, but her adult mind was sharp. She managed to pull down her pull-up and used the potty successfully, without assistance. A small surge of triumph went through her, a whisper of her adult self screaming, "I'm still here! This isn't real! I'm Sarah!" But it was fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the looming dread of the rest of the day. The day passed in a surreal haze of childish activities. Sarah played with toys she hadn't touched in years, endured a nap she desperately didn't want, and had to navigate a world built for people half her mental age. Each interaction was a performance, a constant act to hide her true self. But how long could she keep this up? Would she ever wake up? Throughout the day, Mrs. Gable would occasionally chime in with a cheerful, "Time to try the potty, sweetie!" or "Do you need to go potty, Lily-bug?" Each time, Sarah's adult mind would bristle. Of course I know when I need to go! I'm not a baby! The reminders, though kind, felt infantilizing and deeply annoying. She'd dutifully try, sometimes successfully, sometimes not, but the constant questioning grated on her adult sensibilities. When evening came, the dread of bedtime returned. After a quick bath, Mrs. Gable began the familiar process. Despite her successful use of the potty throughout the whole day, Mrs. Gable simply smiled. "Time for your night-time diaper, sweetie. Just to make sure you stay dry and comfy all night." Sarah’s internal protests were silent. She was laid down on the changing pad again, the familiar plastic rustle and the weight of the thick diaper being fastened around her a physical embodiment of her helplessness. This was Lily's routine, and Lily's mother wasn't going to deviate from it just because "Lily" had a surprisingly good day. The sheer, utter helplessness of being treated like a child, as a child, was soul-crushing. Maybe this was real. Maybe she was Lily. The thought was terrifying. The next few days were a blur of growing despair. Waking up as Lily morning after morning, the undeniable physical sensations confirming the persistent reality, extinguished any last hope that this was merely a dream. Throughout the day she tried to control her tiny bladder, but the body felt alien, its signals more muddled with each passing day. Then, it happened during playtime—a sudden, undeniable warmth spreading through her pull-up. She froze, her small hands clenched into fists. A silent scream tore through her mind, overwhelming all other thoughts. It wasn't just observing Lily's accidents anymore; this was her experience, her body, Lily's body, betraying her adult mind with a sudden, uncontrollable warmth that seeped through the fabric, shockingly hot against her skin. The primal humiliation was sickening. Mrs. Gable, ever patient, simply noticed the faint smell, led her to the changing pad, and quietly changed her. "Oopsie," she murmured, a phrase that made Sarah's adult mind scream in silent agony. Amidst the bewildering immersion into Lily's routine, Sarah's adult mind frequently grappled with the limitations of her small body and muddled senses. Once, when attempting to explain how to make a sandwich, she found her small tongue struggling, her adult vocabulary failing her. The complex thoughts dissolved into simple, fragmented sounds. "Bread… peanut… jelly… squish!" was all that emerged, the infantile words mocking her intellect. It was a terrifying sign of the disconnect, a chilling internal battle she fought alone. Was this real? Or was she simply Lily, a very confused Lily, who imagined things? As the days blended, the accidents became more frequent, each one a fresh assault on her dignity and a chilling sign of her losing battle. She’d make it to the potty sometimes, only to lose control just as she sat down, the desperate urge simply overwhelming her. Other times, the urge would simply come too late, or she wouldn't even notice until the tell-tale warmth spread. The feeling of the wet pull-up, then the clean change, became a grim, relentless cycle. She found herself waiting, with a desperate, growing anticipation, for Lily to appear, to return, to somehow bring the silver orb and switch them back. Every morning, she woke with a flicker of hope, her eyes darting around the room for the familiar teenage figure, only for it to be crushed by the familiar dampness of her diaper and the endless, infantilizing routine of Lily's life. Chapter 3: The First Visit Days bled into a week, a monotonous cycle of living in Lily's small body. The world seen from this height felt different, more intimidating. Her thoughts, once sharp, were drained by the sheer effort of controlling Lily’s uncooperative body. Then, one afternoon, the front door opened. Seeing her own body, animated by Lily's innocent energy, sent a jolt of desperate hope through Sarah. "Hi Lily! Ready to play?" Lily asked, her voice Sarah's, a sound both familiar and alien. Seeing her own face look so relaxed, so at ease, twisted something inside Sarah. "Lily! It's me, Sarah! We have to swap back!" Sarah cried, scrambling toward her own body. Her movements were clumsy, her small legs pumping furiously. Lily tilted her head, a look of simple confusion on Sarah's face. "Swap? What are you talking about, sweetie?" she asked, her tone that of a child patiently correcting a confused playmate. "Was that part of our pretend game? It didn't really work, did it?" She giggled, a light, airy sound that was Sarah's laugh. "You have such a big imagination!" "No! It wasn't a dream!" Sarah insisted, her voice too high and reedy for her adult distress. "Remember the silver orb? We touched it together!" Lily just patted her head. "Aw, Lily, you're getting too worked up. It's just a game, remember? I'm the big girl, you're the little girl." She tried to pull Sarah into a hug, but Sarah squirmed away, her eyes wide with a terrifying mix of fear and frustrated rage. Desperate to prove herself, to show Lily the truth of her adult mind trapped in this body, Sarah quickly stood up. She marched to the bathroom, pulled down her pull-up, and used the potty successfully, making sure Lily was watching. She emerged moments later, hands on her hips, a defiant glare fixed on her own teenage body. "See?! I can do that! I'm not a baby! You have to switch us back!" Lily beamed, a wide, innocent smile that held no understanding. "Oh, Lily, you're such a big girl!" she praised, her voice Sarah's, warm and encouraging. "You went potty all by yourself! Good job!" She clapped her hands with genuine enthusiasm, as if Lily had just achieved a major milestone. Sarah felt a fleeting flicker of hope, a desperate spark that perhaps this demonstration had finally broken through. But then Lily continued, utterly oblivious to Sarah's true plea. "Now come here, I'll give you a carry!" Before Sarah could object, Lily casually bent down and scooped her up, tucking her against her hip with an effortless strength that felt utterly wrong. Sarah squirmed, pushing against her own chest, but Lily's grip was firm, her focus already on the dolls she was moving towards. "Big girls carry little girls sometimes!" After they played a while with the dolls, Lily announced, her tone shifting to playful authority, "It's almost bedtime, and big girls like me help little girls get ready. Come on!" she lifted Sarah onto the changing pad and began to efficiently unfasten the pull-up. At that moment, Mrs. Gable appeared. "How's my little Lily doing?" Lily looked up, a bright, triumphant smile on Sarah's face. "Just getting her ready for bed, Mrs. Gable! She was so good today!" Lily patted the pull-up she had just removed. "See? She even kept her pull-up dry almost all day! And she went potty all by herself!" Mrs. Gable cooed, genuinely pleased. "Oh, that's wonderful! My big girl!" she said, kissing Lily's forehead. "And you, Sarah, you're such a great babysitter. Thank you so much for taking such good care of her." Lily beamed, basking in the praise. Then, with calm, practiced movements, she fastened a fresh, thick Pampers Baby-Dry diaper around Sarah's waist. The familiar rustle and weight were a physical embodiment of her helplessness. Sarah lay stiff with rage as her own body, controlled by a child, completed the ultimate act of infantilization while her mother praised the performance. Lily (as Sarah) then gently led Sarah (in Lily's body) back to the bed, effortlessly laying her down and pulling the covers up to her chin. "Goodnight, Lily," she murmured, a sweet, possessive tone in Sarah's own voice. "You played so good today! And learned so much." She chirped again, before walking out the door with her parents. Sarah was left behind, a horrifying uncertainty solidifying in her mind: was this just part of Lily's game, or was she genuinely convinced the "swap" was only pretend? Chapter 4: The Deepening Normalcy Days blurred into a monotonous, unending loop. The initial terror of waking in Lily’s body had dulled, replaced by a deep, insidious weariness. Time itself seemed to warp, stretching out in endless stretches of play and routine, punctuated by the familiar, humbling moments of being changed. Her sense of when things happened, or how long they lasted, began to dissolve. Was it morning or afternoon? Had she been playing with these blocks for minutes or hours? The sharp edges of her eighteen-year-old mind, once so keen and defiant, felt as though they were being relentlessly sanded down by the sheer, unyielding force of childhood. The daily rhythm was inescapable. Mornings began with the rustle of a thick wet night-time diaper being removed, followed by the insertion into a fresh, daytime pull-up. The periodic "Time to try the potty!" from Mrs. Gable, once irritating, became a necessary spark of awareness. Sometimes, in the midst of her increasingly muddled thoughts, the reminder would spark a flicker of awareness, a vague urgency that allowed her to make it to the bathroom, avoiding an accident. She found herself, almost imperceptibly, relying on them. The relief of a dry pull-up, even if prompted, became a small, secret victory. But the victories were hollow, followed by inevitable accidents. The initial burning shame of wetting herself had faded to a dull ache. It wasn't the sudden, shocking gush she first experienced. The pull-ups were so absorbent, so efficient, that the immediate sensation of wetness often didn't even register. She’d be playing, or listening to a story, and then she’d notice it – a slight shift in weight, a subtle sag, the once vibrant patterns on the pull-up faintly blurred or faded where the wetness had spread. The terrifying part wasn't just the physical loss of control, but the erosion of her awareness. Sometimes, she wouldn't even know an accident had happened until Mrs. Gable would gently ask, "Are you wet, sweetie?" and lead her to the changing pad. The process of being changed felt almost automatic now, a familiar ritual that bypassed her conscious mind. The subtle shift in her center of gravity as she was lifted, the cool brush of the wipes, the familiar stretch of a new pull-up being pulled up her legs—these were sensations she had come to accept, rather than actively resist. The initial sharp pang of mortification was dulled, replaced by a hazy, almost uncomprehending embarrassment. Her attempts at complex thought, at recalling memories from her past, were also increasingly fragmented, often interrupted by simple, immediate distractions – a bright toy, a catchy jingle from a TV show, the taste of a sweet snack. The world, once vibrant and intricate through adult eyes, now felt simpler, louder, brighter, pulling her into a child's unfiltered perception. The endless stream of childish conversations, the repetitive games, the constant supervision – it all began to wear down her resistance. The fight she waged internally, the silent screams for her adult self, were slowly being drowned out, pulled under by the sheer, insistent current of childhood's simple demands. She still longed for Lily to return, to reverse the swap, but the desperate anticipation that had once consumed her had morphed into a more resigned hope. Every morning, she still looked for her own teenage form, a fleeting moment of clarity in the soft morning light, but it was always the same: Mrs. Gable, a small, absorbent diaper, and the start of another day in Lily’s endless childhood. The new normal was setting in, and Sarah, trapped, could feel her own self beginning to fray at the edges. Then, one sunny afternoon, the front door opened, and Lily (in Sarah's body) arrived. "Hi Lily! I came to play!" she chirped, her voice Sarah's, but the inflection undeniably that of a joyous four-year-old. She bounced a little on Sarah's feet, then knelt, her eighteen-year-old frame easily reaching Lily's height. "Want to build a super-duper tall tower?" Lily (as Sarah) asked. Sarah felt a vague impulse to create something complex, but her small hands felt clumsy, the blocks slipped from her grasp. She tried to coordinate her movements, but her focus wavered, drifting to the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam. She managed to stack two blocks, then stared at the next, her adult thought to add three more dissolving into a simple urge to knock them down. She knocked the blocks over with a giggle. Lily laughed, a warm, genuine sound from Sarah's own throat. "Silly Lily! That's okay! We'll just build it again! You're so funny!" She easily re-stacked the blocks, her own large hands surprisingly adept, showing a patience that bordered on condescension. "You know, big girls can draw really good pictures too! Want to draw with me?" Lily produced crayons and a coloring book with large, simple shapes. Sarah found herself wanting to sketch a complex landscape, a memory from her past life. But when she grasped the crayon, her small fingers felt clumsy, her drawing amounted to only frantic scribbles outside the lines. The frustration bubbled, but the intensity quickly faded, replaced by the simple satisfaction of the crayon's waxy feel on the paper. As the afternoon wore on, Lily suggested, "Hey, Lily, wanna play tickle monster?" she giggled, her eyes wide with childish mischief. Before Sarah could respond, Lily pounced, her large hands digging playfully into Sarah's sides. Sarah squealed with delighted surprise, her small body writhing playfully. The unexpected laughter, the sudden movements, the sheer sensory overload of the tickling — it was too much for her already regressing control. Her bladder, forgotten in the moment of pure, innocent fun, simply let go. The warm rush spread through her pull-up, a sensation her overstimulated mind barely noticed. The playful squeals continued, now tinged with a raw, almost primitive joy, utterly oblivious to the growing dampness. During the bedtime routine, Lily unfastened the pull-up and paused. the familiar, tell-tale warmth and faint smell of urine became apparent. "Oh, Lily," she murmured, her voice soft with a childlike concern. "Your pull-up is all wet! Were you so busy playing you didn't even notice?" Sarah blinked up at her, a look of simple confusion on her face, a faint flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks, her small hands fluttering nervously. She simply shook her head, flustered and unable to comprehend the question beyond the feeling of being exposed. Just then, Mrs. Gable entered the room. Lily turned to her, her voice bright yet tinged with feigned concern. "Lily had another accident! I don't think she even knew it happened. She was just playing so hard with me. Maybe we should stop trying with the potty for a little while, so she doesn't get sad?" Mrs. Gable looked from the genuinely worried expression on Sarah's face to the small, lost form of Lily, who now looked utterly lost and ashamed, her eyes wide and confused. A faint sadness settled in Mrs. Gable's eyes. "You're probably right, honey," she sighed. "We don't want to make it too hard on her, do we? We can try again later." She gave a comforting pat. "Good thinking, Sarah. Thank you for helping so much." And so, the explicit reminders to go potty from Mrs. Gable ceased. The implicit pressure of potty training was removed, replaced by a resigned acceptance. The constant, physical reminder of the pull-up was there, and while her adult mind still registered the humiliation, it was increasingly muffled by the growing haze of resignation. Without those occasional prompts, Sarah's accidents became noticeably more frequent. Her small bladder simply emptied, often before she even registered the urge. The fight was leaving her, piece by agonizing piece. Chapter 5: The Cognitive Battle More days passed, filled with the ongoing physical humiliation of more wet pull-ups and diapers, a constant need for changing, and the growing confusion of living with a mind that felt increasingly... not her own. Sarah's vocabulary shrank, her patience thinned, simple things fascinated her. She was becoming more and more like a four-year-old. The memory of being Sarah felt distant, like a story she'd once been told. When Lily arrived, a desperate, fleeting hope stirred in Sarah. "Lily! It's me, Sarah! Swap us back! Please!" she pleaded, trying to infuse her small voice with all the desperation of her trapped adult mind. But the words came out sounding rushed, high-pitched, more like an insistent whine. Lily knelt, a parody of thoughtful concern on Sarah's face. "Aw, sweetie, you're still playing that game? It's just pretend. I'm the big girl, remember?" She chuckled, and the familiar sound, coming from herself, twisted in Sarah's gut. "You know, big girls know lots of things. Do you want to learn something with me today instead?" Before Sarah could react, Lily (as Sarah) produced a handful of colorful blocks. "Okay, Lily, let's do some numbers!" she announced, her tone shifting into a playful 'teacher' mode. "If I have two blocks," she carefully placed two red blocks on the floor, "and I add two more," she added two blue blocks, "how many do I have?" Sarah’s adult mind screamed the answer: Four! It’s four! The knowledge was immediate, crystalline. But when she tried to vocalize it, her small tongue felt thick, clumsy. Her mouth formed the sound, but it came out slurred, incomplete. "F-fou... uh..." she stammered, her tiny brow furrowed in frustration. Lily waited patiently, a small, genuinely proud smile on her face. Then she shook her head gently. "No, silly Lily, that's not quite right. Look!" She meticulously counted each block with her own finger. "One, two, three, four! See? It's four!" She looked at Sarah with an innocent expectation, as if Sarah was just a slow learner, not a trapped adult. "Okay, let's try another one! If I have five blocks," she placed five blocks, "and I take away three..." She dramatically swept three blocks aside. "How many are left?" Two! It's two! Sarah’s mind screamed again, the answer burning, clear, obvious. She focused every ounce of her will, every shred of her adult intellect, to articulate it. "T-too!" she managed, a triumph of effort that sounded barely recognizable. Lily giggled. "Almost, Lily! It's two! You almost got it that time! You're getting so smart!" She clapped her hands with genuine enthusiasm, patting Sarah's head. The praise, meant for a developing child, was a fresh wave of humiliation. Sarah's attempts to express complex thoughts, to demonstrate her true intellect, were consistently misinterpreted as childish efforts, met with innocent condescension. The gap between her internal reality and her external presentation was growing wider, a terrifying chasm. "Okay, last one!" Lily chirped, her voice light and innocent, oblivious to the anguish brewing beneath the surface. She counted out ten blocks, then added two more with a flourish. "Now, if I have ten blocks, and I add two more, how many do I have in total, Lily?" Sarah's mind seized. Ten plus two... The numbers were there, but the sum eluded her. She knew it was simple, a basic math fact from her childhood, yet the connection refused to form. Her attention began to fray, the brightly colored blocks before her blurring, replaced by a sudden, intense focus on the warmth of the sunbeam filtering through the window, or the distant chirp of a bird. She tried to pull her thoughts back, to force the answer, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. Panic began to bubble, a hot, frantic feeling that clawed at her throat. She could feel the pressure building within her, a visceral response to the mental block and the unbearable stress of the moment. Her tiny hands clenched into fists, her breath hitched. And then, the ultimate betrayal. A subtle shift in the air, a faint, undeniable odor. This was different. This was new, horrifying, and utterly irreversible. Her bowels, under the immense mental and emotional strain, had simply given way, the soft, thick material of the pull-up doing its job discreetly, containing the mess without visible seepage. She, Sarah, had soiled herself for the first time in years. Lily tilted her head, her nostrils flaring ever so slightly. She glanced down at Lily’s pants, then back up at the little girl's strained face. "Oh, Lily! I think you made a really big mess," she exclaimed, her voice not angry, but a touch grossed out, like an older sister whose little sibling had done something truly unexpected. "Pull-ups aren't for poopy messes. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." A wave of heat washed over her, so intense it felt like her skin was dissolving. The world narrowed to the stifling confines of the soiled pull-up, the clinical gaze from her own eyes in Lily’s face, and the undeniable proof of her complete and utter regression. Not only had she failed the test, not only had her mind betrayed her, but she had regressed in the most primal way imaginable, in front of the very person who held her identity. As Lily led her towards the bathroom, Sarah's small body felt heavy with shame. Mrs. Gable was called, her gentle hand now a source of deep mortification as she efficiently removed the soiled pull-up. The warm, wet cloth against her skin, the intimate process of being cleaned, felt utterly dehumanizing. Lily watched with a detached, clinical interest, occasionally offering a helpful wipe or a sympathetic murmur. Once she was clean, Lily held out a thick, white Pampers Baby-Dry diaper, its plastic crinkle a loud pronouncement of Sarah's new reality. "Pull-ups are just for pee," she explained. "But sometimes little girls make big messes when they're learning new things, so I think, Lily needs a real diaper now, just in case!" Mrs. Gable nodded understandingly. "That's a good idea, Sarah." she agreed, fastened the bulky diaper securely around Sarah's waist. The padded bulk beneath her day clothes was suffocating, a constant, physical reminder of her regression. After the change, Lily abandoned the math questions entirely. "Okay, no more numbers today, Lily! Let's play babies!" she chirped, picking up a soft doll and rocking it. Sarah was then subjected to a series of baby games, being cooed at, rocked, and treated with an infuriatingly innocent infantilization. The attempts at adult thought became even harder, replaced by a dull, almost passive acceptance of the play. As evening approached, the familiar bedtime routine began again. Lily led Sarah to the changing pad. Sarah felt the usual faint dampness in her diaper as it was removed, a wetness she hadn't even consciously registered accumulating throughout the afternoon of baby games. Sarah was trapped, truly trapped, and a cold dread seeped into her bones. The physical proof of her regression – her failing mind and body's loss of control – and the casual, matter-of-fact way Lily handled it, delivered by her own hands, was devastating. It cemented the horrifying thought: maybe she was Lily. Chapter 6: The Choice Another week later. The world had shrunk to the size of a playroom. Time was a fluid, meaningless concept, marked only by the gentle hands of Mrs. Gable, the rustle of a fresh diaper. The daily routine of thick diapers for both day and night had become normal. Mrs. Gable, on Lily's recommendation, had given up on potty training, and Sarah now simply wet her diaper whenever the urge came, often without conscious thought. Sarah's adult mind was a flickering ember, occasionally catching a fleeting glimpse of her past life, but mostly lost in the soft, undemanding routines of toddlerhood. The "swap" felt like a vivid dream. She was Lily. One afternoon, Sarah (in Lily's body) was playing quietly with blocks, stacking them into a small, colorful tower, when Lily (in Sarah's body) entered the room, holding the silver orb. Her expression was different—thoughtful, almost solemn. "Want to play pretend again?" she asked. Sarah felt a ghostly echo of a memory but reached out, eager to play. With a shared touch, the world swam, and she was back. Standing tall. In her own body. A wave of profound disorientation hit her, followed by a terrifying sense of wrongness. This is too big. Too high. She looked down at her long, alien limbs. Her soft silk panties felt impossibly thin, offering no security. A raw sense of vulnerability flooded her. Panic flickered, a childlike fear in a teenage form. "Whee!" she chirped, the sound alien in her teenage voice. She did a clumsy hop, like a four-year-old exploring new limbs, trying to make sense of this strange, oversized body. Her regressed mind, traumatized by weeks of involuntary release, reacted instantly. Her bladder let go, the warm liquid soaking through her jeans. The overpowering smell, the utterly mortifying realization of what she had done—it all flooded her senses. She, Sarah, eighteen years old, had just wet herself. Lily, back in her own small body, watched with a calm expression. Seeing Sarah so panicked and lost in the big body—her body—a strange pity stirred in Lily. "It looks like the pretend game is making you feel funny. You're in a big body but still acting like a little kid. You should be you again." She held out the silver orb, not as a trick, but as a simple, honest solution. "We'd better swap back to make you feel normal again. Like you were before this pretend game made you so silly and sad." Sarah, confused and distressed by the alien tallness and the wrongness of her limbs, didn't hesitate. The inexplicable accident was terrifying, proof this tall body was broken and wrong. Swapping back felt like the only way to return to 'normalcy,' to the body where accidents were just a part of being Lily. "Yes! Swap back!" she cried, reaching for the orb with desperate, oversized hands. With a final flash, Sarah was back in Lily's small body, settling into the familiar, slightly damp diaper she wore. Lily, holding the orb, was back in Sarah's original body, a subtle, unreadable maturity now resting on her features. She looked at the small girl before her, who now seemed content. A faint, sad smile touched her lips. She didn't understand everything, but she knew her friend wasn't scared anymore. The game was over. The switch was complete. Sarah was permanently in Lily's body, her mind regressed, the month of intellectual decline and loss of continence solidifying her new, false identity. She would live Lily's life, wearing Lily's diapers, enduring Lily's accidents with the innocent, uncomprehending shame of a child who genuinely believes she is Lily. The price of her game was the permanent, tragic loss of herself, having chosen her fate because the alternative felt more terrifying—a prisoner of her own making in a gilded cage of childhood. The End

Chapter 1 - She Found Out As a work from home programmer, I had it made. My wife, Susan, was beautiful, big breasted, with red hair and a fiery personality to match. I got to work a few hours a day, and spend the rest of the time doing whatever. We had no kids, something she was biologically unable to produce because of a rare condition, so we spent our money on ourselves. Her bad habit was travel. She was always on the road for work. Sometimes in Europe, sometimes in Asia, and there were multiple yearly trips to Vegas for some stupid conventions. That left me with a lot of time by myself, and I indulge in my vice -- diapers. I had experienced a bedwetting issue during puberty, that reared its ugly head now and then, usually when I drank too much. That exposed me to the solution my parents eventually landed on -- diapers. Now as an adult, I bought and used adult diapers all the time when I was alone. It was my forbidden escape, my stress reliever. One day, when I was home by myself, and Susan was on one of her business trips to who knows where, I was sitting in a very wet diaper in the living room, on a towel on the couch. On the big screen TV I had attached my laptop. On the TV was a vial bi-sexual diaper porn. A naked woman playing "mommy" was "breastfeeding" two adult baby boys as they had their hands in their diaper stroking their cocks. I too had my hand in my diaper watching the sexy scene unfold on screen lost in the moment as I approached orgasm. That's why I didn't hear the garage door open, or Susan quietly walk into the room. "What in the holy fuck is going on here Max? Is THIS what you do when I'm not home?" Susan screamed. My eyes shot open, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Susan stood in the doorway, her luggage dropped to the floor. She was supposed to be in Japan for another three days. Her eyes were wide with shock and anger as they scanned the room—the diaper I was wearing, the towel beneath me, and the explicit scene playing out on the TV. I quickly hit the pause button, my heart racing like a jackrabbit in a cage. "S-Susan," I stuttered, desperately trying to find the right words to explain my humiliating predicament. But before I could form a coherent sentence, she stormed over and slapped me across the face. Hard. Her palm stung like fire on my cheek, and the shock of it sent a jolt through my body, freezing me in place. The TV flickered with the paused image of the "mommy" figure smiling down at her "babies," adding to my mortification. Susan's eyes were blazing with a fury I had never seen before. "How could you?" she spat, her voice trembling with disgust and hurt. "Is this what I've been missing while I'm slaving away for us?" I couldn't meet her gaze. The wetness of the diaper felt like a cold, clingy truth, a stark reminder of my secret life laid bare. "I—I don't know," I murmured, feeling the weight of her accusation crushing my chest. Susan's breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling with rage. She grabbed the TV remote and turned the volume up, the woman's sultry voice echoing through the room. "Look at yourself, Max," she hissed, pointing at the screen. "This is what you get off to?" Just then, the two adult diaper clad men on the screen began to play with each other, grinding their diaper covered cocks against one another, while the "mommy" encouraged them on. She was fingering her pussy. Susan's jaw was on the floor, stunned with what she was watching. "I-I can explain," I managed to squeak out, my voice shaking with fear and embarrassment. "It's just something I do to relax." As I spoke those words, one of the diapered men in the video untaped the diaper of the other and took his cock in his mouth. I instinctively groaned in delight, forgetting for a split second that Susan was in the room. Her eyes snapped to me, the rage in them now mixed with a hint of curiosity. "Is this what you need?" she said, her voice eerily calm. "Is this why you've been so distant lately?" The question hung in the air, heavy with accusation and pain. I tried to pull my hand out of the diaper, but my cock was still watching the porn, refusing to let go. "Susan, it's not what you think," I whispered, my voice cracking. But she wasn't listening anymore. She was staring at the TV, the scene now depicting the two adult babies in a passionate sixty-nine, their diapers peeled back to reveal their erections. Susan licked her lips. Then one of the men mounted the other, shoving his cock inside him and calling him his "Diaper Slut." That's all I needed to hear. My cock, which had a mind of its own, was triggered, sending me into a very obvious orgasm as I shot load after load of cum into my wet diaper. "Oh my god!" I shouted. Susan spun around and stared at me appalled at the site before her, rage boiling in her eyes. "You're disgusting," she murmured, the words cutting through the silence like a knife. I sat there, my diaper now soaked with cum, feeling more exposed and ashamed than I had ever felt in my life. The scene on the TV continued, but it was as if someone had hit the mute button. All I could hear was the hammering of my heart and the harsh sound of my own ragged breaths. Susan stepped closer, her eyes never leaving mine. "Do you know how much this hurts me?" she whispered, the anger in her voice now replaced by something else—something that scared me even more. "I-I'm sorry," I choked out, the reality of the situation crashing down around me. "It's just... a thing. It doesn't mean anything. It's just for fun." "Well I'm going to show you just how much you're hurt me today with this... with this... whatever it is." In a swift motion she unbuckled her black leather belt and pulled me up off the couch. She sat down in a close by chair and pulled me over her lap. In what seemed like no time she had pulled down the back of my diaper and began spanking me as hard as she could with her belt. The sting was intense, each smack echoing through the room. The sound of the leather slapping against my bare ass was like a drum beat of humiliation. I couldn't believe this was happening. The pain grew with each hit, and my body jolted with every strike, but my cock remained stubbornly erect. "You want to be a baby?" she sneered, her hand rising and falling in a rhythm that was punctuated by my grunts and yelps. "Then I'll treat you like one." I didn't know how to process that statement, all I knew was that the beating continued without end. My ass was on fire, moving from pale white, to pink, to deep red, to spots of purple. "I can't believe this is what you do behind my back," she said with each smack. "What else are you hiding from me?" With that she threw me from her lap onto the floor. I was sobbing now, rubbing my abused ass. I looked up at her, tears streaming down my face. "I'm sorry," I whispered again, not knowing what else to say. Susan's expression softened for a moment, but then it was as if she remembered her anger. She stood up and walked over to me, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. She reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my face to look up at her. "You're going to tell me everything," she said, her eyes cold. "Everything you do when I'm not here. Every little detail of your pathetic little life." "Yes... mommy." The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them, a reflex from the porn I had been watching. But as soon as they were out, I realized they weren't just a slip of the tongue. Some part of me craved the role Susan was playing, the power and control she had over me in this moment. The rage in her eyes flickered with something new, something darker, and she tightened her grip on my hair. "That's right," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "You're going to tell me everything, and then maybe, just maybe, I'll decide if I even want to stay married to a man who's been hiding in diapers like some kind of... some kind of sicko." I nodded, tears still streaming down my face. The pain from the spanking was intense, but the fear of losing Susan was even worse. "I'm sorry," I repeated. "It started after my accident when I was younger. I just... I can't help it." "Look, I know you've wet the bed a few times in our marriage, mostly when you went through that depression and drank too much, but this?" "Actually, it happens more than you know. You're just gone so much, and we're never intimate in the mornings, so you've never noticed that I've been wearing a diaper off and on for a few years now." That wasn't the right thing to say, I could see it in her eyes. "Every morning?" she asked, her grip on my hair loosening slightly. "You've been wearing diapers for years and you didn't think to tell me?" Susan's other hand slapped me across the face. "How could you keep this from me?" she yelled, her voice shaking. "How could you be so...so...twisted?" The force of her slap sent my head spinning and my eyes watered. "It's not like that," I managed to croak out, the sting of the truth burning my tongue. "It's just something that...I don't know." Susan's expression was a tumult of emotions—fury, betrayal, and a hint of something else. "Get up," she ordered, her voice laced with a firmness I rarely heard from her. I struggled to my feet, my legs wobbly and my ass throbbing with pain. She pointed to the corner of the room. "You're going to stand there," she said, "and think about what you've done. But first, tell me where you hide all this stuff, because I want to look at it all." I mumbled, "In the back of my closet. On the floor." Susan let go of my hair and walked over to our bedroom, leaving me to stand in the corner, my diaper still hanging open and my cock still hard. The coldness of the room made my skin pebble, and the pain from the spanking was a constant throb in the back of my mind. I could hear her rummaging through the closet, tossing things around, and then she emerged, her arms filled with diapers, baby bottles, pacifiers, and a few other...toys, including my spanking paddle, and a long, black dildo. "What in the fuck, Max?" Her voice was a mix of rage and disbelief as Susan dumped the contents of my secret stash onto the bed. She held up the spanking paddle, her eyes narrowed. "You've been playing with this?" I only nodded. "Well then let's get some use out of it." With that she sat on the end of the bed and pulled me back over her lap for the second spanking in the last 10 minutes. It was a leather paddle made for spanking that I bought at a local porn shop. It even said "SLUT" in red letters. As she raised it high, I felt a mix of terror and something else...excitement? The first smack was like a bolt of lightning on my already tender flesh. "You're going to get ten," she announced, her voice firm, "and you're going to count them out loud." The spanking was a symphony of pain and pleasure, each blow making me flinch and whimper, the sound of the leather on my skin punctuating the silence. "One," I managed to choke out, my voice shaky. "Two." The pain grew with each number, but so did my arousal. It was a confusing mix of emotions, but I couldn't deny that the sting of the paddle was turning me on. As Susan brought it down again, she said, "And you're going to tell me everything about this little... hobby of yours." The third smack hit me harder than the others, making me gasp. "I've been wearing them because it... it makes me feel safe," I confessed, the truth coming out in a rush. "When I'm stressed or anxious, it's like... I don't know, it just makes everything okay." "I'm supposed to do that for you, Max!" The fourth hit was the hardest. "Four," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's not just the diapers. It's... the whole experience. The way it feels, the smell, the warmth." I could feel the wetness spreading in the diaper with every smack. "And the humiliation," I admitted, my voice barely above a murmur. "It turns me on." Susan paused, as if she was thinking. Then the spanking resumed with extra ferocity. "Five," I called out, biting my bottom lip to keep from screaming. "Six. Seven." Each number grew softer as the pain became too much to handle. I began openly sobbing. Susan paused, looking at me with a mix of anger and something that looked almost like pity. "Why?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why would you need this?" "It just... it feels right," I managed to say between gasps. "It's like... it's like I'm being punished for something I don't even know I did." Susan's arm paused mid-air, the paddle hovering over my crimson ass. "Punished?" she echoed, her tone skeptical. "Yeah," I choked out, "It's like... it's like I'm being disciplined. It's a release." Susan's grip on the paddle tightened, her knuckles white. She brought it down again with a sharp crack, making me yelp. "You want discipline?" she spat. "You're going to get it." The final few blows were in quick succession and harder than ever. They made me squirm and cry harder than ever before. "Ten," I whimpered, my voice a pathetic wisp. She tossed the paddle aside and stood up, her expression unreadable. "Take it off," she said, pointing to the diaper. "Take it all off." I complied, my trembling fingers working to untape the soggy mess. The cool air hit my skin, making me shiver. I felt more exposed than ever before. The diaper fell to the floor with a wet slap, leaving me naked with my obvious hard on. "Now, tell me why you do this," Susan demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. My body was a canvas of pain, but the fear of losing her was the most overwhelming feeling. "It's just something that started when I was a teenager," I began, my voice shaking. "After the accident, it was like... a comfort thing." Susan's eyes searched my face, looking for something—understanding, maybe. "But you didn't tell me," she said, her voice tight. "You kept it all hidden from me." "I was afraid," I admitted, my voice small and pathetic. "I didn't think you'd understand." Susan's face softened a fraction, but the anger didn't leave her eyes. "Understand? Max, I'm your wife. I'm supposed to understand you, support you." "But it's so weird and embarrassing," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you'd be able to handle it." Susan sighed, her eyes scanning the pile of diapers and toys on the bed. "I don't know if I can," she said, her voice filled with a sadness that cut through me like a knife. "But I'll try." "What... what does that mean? Does that mean you won't throw all this away? Does that mean you're not divorcing me?" Susan looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions I couldn't quite decipher. "It means," she began, her voice measured, "that I want to understand. I want to know why you need this. Maybe there's something I can do to help you. Or maybe..." she trailed off, her gaze lingering on the diapers and toys, "maybe there's something here for me too." My cock heard that answer before my brain did and rose to attention. Susan noticed, her eyes flickering down to my crotch before snapping back up to my face. "What the hell?" she said, her voice filled with confusion and a hint of revulsion. "He... uh... has a mind of his own." Susan stared at my erection with a look of horror, but I couldn't bring myself to be embarrassed anymore. I was too relieved she wasn't immediately kicking me out or calling a lawyer. Then she did something I never would have expected. As she began undressing she started talking in a measured and serious tone, "Honey, you know that I can never give you a baby. It's impossible. That's why we've never worried about condoms. There's no need." I nodded my head. I was lucky there. "But maybe you can give me a baby?" By this point she was down to her underwear. She had a hot red thong on, and a matching bra that was trying but failing to contain her enormous tits. "What... what do you mean?" Her eyes met mine, a fiery intensity burning within them. "I mean," she said, her voice low and deliberate, "that maybe there's something in this...this lifestyle that we can explore together." My heart pounded in my chest as Susan reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting her breasts spill out. They were magnificent, full and firm, the nipples erect with arousal. She slid her thong down her legs, revealing her bare pussy, already glistening with wetness. My cock throbbed in response, the pain from the spanking forgotten in the face of her sudden openness. "Maybe you can be my baby, Max? I'll diaper you, feed you, spank you when you're bad. You could even suck on my boobs and see if they eventually produce milk." My cock jumped at that suggestion. "But first... fuck me one last time as my husband." Without thinking about what that meant I pushed her onto the bed. Her eyes widened with a mix of surprise and desire as she fell back onto the soft mattress. I climbed over her, my body trembling with anticipation and fear. The smell of her arousal mixed with the faint scent of the diaper, creating an intoxicating aroma that fueled my need. My cock, still hard despite the pain, found its way to her wet opening, and I slammed into her with an urgency that surprised us both. She gasped, arching her back, her breasts bouncing as she wrapped her legs around my waist. The pain from the spanking was a distant memory now, replaced by the fierce pleasure of Susan's warmth enveloping me. Her nails dug into my back as I pounded into her, her moans growing louder with each thrust. The bed creaked beneath us, a rhythmic soundtrack to our desperate coupling. I could see the shock slowly morph into something else in her eyes—desire, mixed with a hint of the love that had always been there. My hips moved faster, driven by a primal need to claim her, to show her that even in my most vulnerable state, I could still be a man she could want. Susan's legs tightened around me, her heels digging into my ass, urging me on. I'm not a well endowed man, but I can fuck... I think... and I was doing it with gusto. "Ugh... ugh... ugh... your pussy feels incredible!" As I continued to fuck her, Susan's eyes rolled back into her head. It had been months since we were intimate together. It had become a rare occurrence where she mostly laid there and waited for me to quickly finish. But tonight, I had cum already, so I had a little stamina in me. Her pussy was tight around my cock, gripping it like a vice as she matched my rhythm with her own desperate movements. "Cum for me, Max," she moaned, her voice thick with passion. "Fuck me, baby. Yes, just like that. Cum inside me!" Her words sent me over the edge, and with a roar, I did just that, filling her up with everything I had. It was a release like nothing I had ever felt before, a culmination of guilt, fear, and an overwhelming desire to be accepted by the woman I loved. Susan moaned, a little lust and a little disappointment that I didn't last longer all mixed together. Then she did something she had never done before. "Now clean it up. With your tongue." My heart raced as Susan's command pierced the quiet post-coital moment. She didn't have to repeat herself. I leaned down, my mouth watering with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The taste of her was sweet and tangy, a mix of her juices and my sperm. As I licked her clean, I realized that she was just as into this as I was. After a few moments, she grabbed my head with her hands and screamed as she finally orgasmed from my feast. When I was done, Susan sat up, her eyes gleaming with a newfound excitement. "Now, let's talk about this," she said, her voice still shaky with arousal. "I don't want to just ignore it, Max. If this is what you need, I want to be a part of it. But we need to set some boundaries." I nodded eagerly, willing to agree to anything she said. "Of course," I murmured, my heart racing. "You will wear diapers 24-7 and use them for their intended purposes. No more toilet for you. Understand?" I nodded, the gravity of her words sinking in. This was really happening. Susan was giving me the chance to embrace my kink with her, but it came with a price—complete submission to her rules. "I am in charge. ALWAYS. What I say, goes, and if you disobey me, you will be spanked. Is that clear?" Her voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation. I nodded vigorously, my heart racing with both excitement and fear. "Yes, Susan," I murmured, my voice thick with anticipation. "I will feed you. We will buy a highchair that will fit you, and that's where you will have your meals. When you behave, I will let you suckle on my breasts. I will also investigate what it may take for me to actually produce milk out of them. Got it?" I nodded again, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events. This was not how I had ever imagined my life playing out, but in that moment, I was more turned on than I had ever been. "When we go out, you must wear a diaper under your adult clothes. We may have some outings where you are in more babyish clothing, which I guess I'll need to buy, but most of the time you will be dressed normally. Ok?" I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. "Okay, Susan." "Now for a few you may not like as much. First. you will now sleep in the guest room. I'll put a rubber sheet on it so you don't ruin the mattress, but we are going to make that room your nursery. I will outfit it accordingly as we do this. That also means you are never sleeping in this room again. It is now MY room. This... is MY bed. You are the baby, and sleep in the baby's room. No argument." My heart sank a bit at that, but I knew she was in charge now. "Yes, Susan." "Second, while we are home, you will address me as "mommy." Failure to do so will get you in trouble. Clear?" "Yes, mommy," I replied meekly, the word feeling strange and yet oddly comforting on my tongue. "And finally, that was the last time we will have vaginal sex ever again. You are my baby now. You are no longer my husband. If you need to "make cummies" because you're horny, we will find other ways to find you release." I was shocked... stunned. This is not what I wanted. "But Susan?" She swiftly slapped me across the face. "No arguments." I nodded, sheepishly. "When mommy needs a release, I too will find other means of that, and you will not interfere. Understood?" The words hung in the air, heavy with their newfound implications. I nodded, feeling both scared and exhilarated by the sudden shift in our dynamic. The sting of her hand still lingered on my cheek. "Otherwise, the consequences will be severe..." she paused for effect "...and expensive. Tell me you understand." I nodded, my throat tight with a mix of fear and excitement. "Yes, mommy," I murmured, the words feeling foreign yet surprisingly right. Susan stood up, her naked body a testament to the power she now held over me. She picked up the wet diaper from the floor and tossed it into the trash can. "Now go lay down on the guest room... I mean nursery bed. I will get a diaper and wipes and meet you there." I felt a mix of excitement and fear as I walked to the guest room, my legs still wobbly from the spanking and the intense orgasm. The room looked so much smaller and more juvenile than I remembered. The reality of my new life was setting in, and it was both terrifying and thrilling. When Susan joined me a few minutes later, she had a fresh diaper and a pack of wipes in her hands. She approached the bed with a stern look, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of our newfound role-play. She looked so powerful, so in control, and I found myself craving her dominance. "Lay down, baby," she said, her voice a mix of authority and tenderness. I obeyed, feeling a strange comfort in her command. She began to wipe my still hard cock clean, her touch gentle yet firm. I watched as she handled me like a mother would her toddler, her eyes never leaving mine. As she secured the fresh diaper around my waist, Susan spoke again, "Now, let's talk about this new arrangement. You're going to follow all my rules, and you're going to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?" I nodded, my voice quivering slightly. "Yes, mommy." Susan's eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of resistance or mockery. Finding none, she gave a curt nod. "Good boy," she said, and the words sent a shockwave of pleasure through me. "Now, let's get you dressed for bed." She pulled out a t-shirt I owned but hadn't worn in a while. It was quite childish with carton characters on it, not unlike the cartoon dinosaur on the diaper I was wearing. "Where did you find these diapers anyway, Maxy baby?" "Online mommy, you'd be surprised what's available on Amazon." "I guess I would," she chuckled and shook her head as she pulled the shirt over me. "Now stand up," she said firmly, and I did. SWAT! She spanked my diapered butt with her hand. I winced. "You will have regular bedtime spankings to remind you who is in charge, but I think your ass has had enough punishment for one night. Now get under the covers." Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of warmth in it that I hadn't heard in a long time. I complied, sliding under the sheets and feeling the coolness of the fresh diaper against my skin. Susan bent down and kissed me gently on the forehead. "Goodnight, baby," she said, her voice a gentle purr. "Remember, this is your new life now. If you're a good boy, I'll take care of you."

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.

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.

Heyo folks! Sorry for a bit of an absence... I could just blame work, but while that was definitely a factor, this time it was for another reason. This one-off story right here! Or, well, that and the idea behind it. See, I came up with an idea for... a game! Basically, I'd been thinking about dating sims lately, and suddenly an idea popped into my head. Basically, what if one were to take the elements of a dating sim, but instead apply them in a different way... In this case, I'm calling it a Found-Family-Sim, and I'm gonna try to make it a point-and-click visual novel with plenty of choices! The player character, who can choose from several backstories as well as pick their gender and species, finds themselves in the beautiful and mysterious town of Cherry Lake. As they explore the town and get to know the townspeople and potential adoptive parents/families and begin uncovering secrets, they may notice that they seem to be... getting younger?! Players will find that their choices and actions have consequences, some small, others quite large, and that there are multiple outcomes to be found! It's an ambitious project for someone who has never programmed anything ever, and knows next to nothing about coding, but it's still something I'm gunna try nonetheless! Anyways, this little one-off is to introduce you to some of the characters to be found in Cherry Lake as well as a little bit of the town, and to highlight some choices to be made. Okay, rambling over, and I hope that you all enjoy it! Welcome to Cherry Lake by Panther Cub "Maybe I should pull over," Tyler mumbled to himself while he squinted to peer out his windshield. The windshield wipers were going as fast as they could to wipe away the torrential rain coming down, but it was only barely enough. As far as he could tell, the black winged cat was still on the road. His headlights illuminated the dark trees on either side of the road and lit up the dotted white lines in the center. He took a quick second to check his GPS, and huffed as it read No Signal still. Then, the sky briefly lit up, and there was a crack of thunder that sounded like a gunshot. "Holy crap! That sounded close!" Tyler fidgeted a little, wondering again if he should pull over. But looking again at the sides of the road, there really wasn't much of an 'over' to pull off to. Then, he rounded a bend and his heart leapt. Lights! The twinkling lights of a town, hopefully his destination, lay just a few miles ahead. As he drew closer and closer to the town, the rain started to taper off, quickly becoming just a light drizzle, and then dispersing entirely. Looking up a little, he could see some stars and even the bright full moon starting to come out from the cloud cover. The glow of the moon lit up the drenched surrounding area a bit, just in time for his headlights to shine on a big wooden sign on the side of the road. "Welcome to Cherry Lake," Tyler read aloud, his green eyes now wide open, "the hidden gem we're all looking for." He felt that that was a bit of a strange slogan, but just shrugged. It was at least painted in beautiful paw-crafted calligraphy in a bright green on the white backing. Passing by it filled Tyler with a sudden sense of giddiness, so much so that he let out a happy giggle. He quickly got himself back under control, figuring that it was just relief at not only being out of the storm, but finally making it to his destination. And hopefully, the place he could finally get a fresh start on life. The streets were still soaked as Tyler entered town, his tires splashing through the occasional puddle. He stopped at a red light and pulled out his notepad with the directions written down on the first page. He noticed a sheriff car pass by and briefly felt worried that maybe this small town might not be so welcoming of him. But he quickly shook that thought away as he looked again at the directions to Mr. and Mrs. Marble's house. With his dwindling savings, he couldn't believe he'd found a room to rent at such a low price. And calling up the couple to see if it was still available... something about how they spoke just put Tyler at ease, which had not been an easy feat considering how badly he was doom-spiraling at the time. Driving around a little more, he spotted a street named Joy Avenue, and quickly turned down it. Slowing down a little to read the house numbers, he came to a stop in mild disbelief. It was a white two-story Colonial-style, with large bay windows, large white pillars, an impressively manicured front lawn and squarely trimmed hedges with a gravel driveway leading to a two-car garage. Thankfully, despite it being nearly eleven at night, there were plenty of lights on inside. With a nervous gulp, Tyler turned into the driveway and put his car in park, hesitating before killing the engine. He reached over to the passenger seat where his two suitcases and laptop in its carrying bag were stacked, and started grabbing them. After shutting and locking the car door, he looked back up at the impressive house and steeled himself. Worst case scenario, he'd have to leave and park somewhere to sleep in his car for the night. Tyler was halfway up the front steps when the front door opened, and he was bathed in a soft yellow light. "Ah, there he is!" A smiling brown-furred rabbit wearing a blue polo shirt and khaki slacks stood in the open doorway, his blue eyes twinkling. "Glad you made it here in one piece, son!" "Is that Tyler?" A soft feminine voice asked, belonging to a light gray rabbit in a bright blue dress, a frilly pink apron tied around it. Her brown eyes lit up with excitement as they beheld the winged cat. "Oh my goodness! Look how big you are!" "Uh..." Tyler stood there, stunned at the friendly voices he quickly recognized, being just as warm and welcoming as they had sounded over the phone. "Mr. and Mrs. Marble? It's, uh, n-nice to meet you!" He set down one of his suitcases and held his paw out to shake. Mr. Marble shook his paw and chuckled some more, startling Tyler as he pulled him into a hug. "We're huggers around here, son," Mr. Marble said, letting Tyler go and giving his headfur a ruffle. Tyler could feel his cheeks reddening beneath his black fur. "Harold, help the boy out of the cold! And sweetie, you look like you're absolutely famished. Please, let me make something nice and warm for you." "Uh, th-thanks, b-but I can carry it--" "Now, now, son. It doesn't hurt to let someone lend a helping paw once in a while," Harlod said, grabbing the suitcase with a grunt and herding the feline into the house. Tyler looked around, spotting a large family portrait. Mr. and Mrs. Marble were sitting under a tree on a bright sunny day, sitting in their laps were three young kits, two boys and a girl. Everyone was wearing their Sunday best and clearly in the middle of laughing. Seeing the picture brought back memories, bittersweet ones that he'd been trying to forget. "We took that picture last Easter," Mr. Marble said, causing Tyler to jump. "It was right before the big Egg Hunt!" "O-oh?" Tyler remembers scrounging around bushes and looking under rocks in search of colorfully dyed eggs to put in his basket, excited for each and every one he did find. "Yup! Here in Cherry Lake, it's actually a pretty big festival! And it's not too far off if you think you'd be interested in it." Mr. Marble gently clapped Tyler on the back. "Wait, do you mean helping set up and hide the eggs?" "Well, yes, we certainly can always use a helping paw when we're setting up for a festival around here," Mr. Marble chuckled while herding the winged cat down the hall and towards the kitchen. "But I also meant to join in on the fun! There's an Egg Hunt for the kits, and then one for adults." "Really?" Tyler felt the faint embers of excitement at the idea that he might get to be able to play the game again, after all these years. "Yup! First prize for adults is usually a gift certificate or voucher from one of the shops here in town. The kids basically compete for baskets of candy and toys, though the winner gets a really big one." "Oh, Harold, I know how excited you are for community projects, but Tyler just got here. Let's let him decompress after such a big trip and then get some shuteye. Then you can start trying to recruit him into helping out his new community!" "Yes, Clara," the bunny man chuckled and gave Tyler a mischievous wink before setting the suitcase down next to a pulled-out chair at the table. Tyler sniffed and winced as his stomach audibly growled. Mrs. Marble giggled as she stirred a pot on the stove, using her free paw to flip something over in a skillet. "Sounds to me like you could use a nice warm meal before bed, young man. Go ahead and take a seat, I'm almost done." "You don't need to fuss over me, Mrs. Marble, honest," Tyler said, feeling his cheeks flush at the sound of further giggling. "Oh hush now. I love cooking and we're not gunna let our special guest who'd just been out in the cold and the rain go to bed without something warm and tasty in their belly." Not wanting to be rude, Tyler sat down. A few seconds later, a bowl of steamy tomato soup and a plate with a golden brown grilled cheese sandwich, cut into triangles, as set before him. "Dig in, honey!" His tail giving a happy swish, Tyler picked up one of the triangles, feeling a little giddy at the sight of the stringy cheese, before dipping it into the soup. After letting it soak up all that tasty tomato goodness, he raised it to his mouth and took a bite. Tyler actually had to fight back tears, as the flavor washed all over him. Memories of being small and home sick, with a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich always helping to make him feel better. "Oh my goodness! It's just so wonderful to know that it's not just my family that likes my homemade tomato soup!" Clara Marble said, clasping her paws together. "This is homemade?" Tyler asked in amazement, dipping some more of the grilled cheese into the red steamy liquid. "It sure is, hun!" Clara looked like she was about to say more, but froze, her ears twitching. Her smile never wavered, even as she started to put on a stern-looking face, her paws on her hips. Tyler briefly worried he had done something to offend the kind rabbit lady. "Alright you three! It's rude to spy on our special guest. Come on out now." Tyler looked confused until he heard some snickers coming from around the doorway. In trotted the three children from the earlier family photo, now all wearing pj's. "Everyone, this is Tyler. I expect you all to be on your best behavior and make him feel welcome in our home." The trio nodded, all gazing curiously at him. Admittedly, it made the winged cat feel a little nervous. Almost like they knew something he didn't. Clara then gestured to the tallest of the bunnies, a girl with mostly white fir with a few caramel splotches. "This is Claire, our oldest at age eight." "Nice to meet you, Tyler!" She said with a giggle. Next to her was a gray-furred bunny boy, wearing a bright red cape attached to his deep blue pajama shirt. "Here is Jonny. He can be a bit of a ball of energy, but what six-year-old isn't?" Finally, the smallest of the trio stepped forward. He had all-black fur, was hugging a purple teddy bear that matched the color of his footed sleeper, and he had a bright blue pacifier in his muzzle. "And this is our littlest, Colin. He's a bit shy, which can be pretty normal for a two-year-old. He's also just the most inquisitive little guy you're ever gunna meet!" There was a lull in the conversation, and Tyler quickly realized that everyone was looking at him expectantly. Feeling his anxiety start to rise a little, he tried to think of what to say... "Yo, wassup l'il homies!" He internally shook his head at that, figuring that would just result in them pointing and laughing at him. H-hi there, guys! Tyler winced a little at just imagining how awkward he felt he was going to sound. "How's it goin', ya weird little munchkins!" He frowned, thinking that one sounded a little too mean. Deciding on the second option, Tyler smiled, doing his best to sound more confident than he did in his head. "H-hi there, guys!" He winced again, feeling even more awkward than he had been expecting it to feel. The children giggled, with the littlest bunny boy smiling up at him before walking up and wrapping his little arms around Tyler's leg in a hug. There were some coos from the parents and Claire at the sight. Blushing a bit, Tyler reached down and ruffled the little kit's headfur, not knowing what else to do. Colin beamed up at him with bright blue eyes. "Alright you three. It's time to head back to bed now that you've all introduced yourselves." Colin reluctantly detached himself from Tyler's leg and gave a wave, one which the feline was quick to return. Tyler then froze when Mrs. Marble turned towards him. "And don't think I've forgotten about you, young man. As soon as you've finished your meal, you'll be needing some shuteye, alright?" Tyler was quick to nod, his face heating up a little. He jumped a bit when he felt a paw clap his shoulder. "As soon as you're all finished, I'll show you your new room," Harold said with a twinkle in his eye. Tyler nodded and sat back down. Reflecting on the interactions was quite the surprise. Having spoken to Harold and Clara over the phone when he'd found the advertised room for rent, they had both been pleasant and polite, but he hadn't been expecting something as... warm and inviting as this. Thinking back to his own childhood household... yeah, on second thought, probably best not to go there. Soon enough, the soup and remaining grilled cheese is all gone. Making sure to rinse off the dishes in the sink before heading up. Only now did he notice the soft eggshell blue of the wallpaper, offset by the earthy chestnut brown hardwood flooring. The staircase leading up had a white bannister, with photos of the children at different events and stages of life lining the wall up to the next story. "Thanks for rinsing off your dishes, Tyler." Harold praised, making the winged cat jump and his fur stick out in surprise. "Uh... n-not a problem, Mr. Marble." Tyler blushed at his mumbling. The gentle pat on the back made him look up at the bunny man. "Now, now, please, call me Harold!" "... O-okay, Harold." Harold's eyes twinkled again in amusement. "Now let's get you to your room! It's the one at the end of the hall." As Harold led the way, Tyler followed behind, his wings gently flapping a little. The first door they passed was open, showing a bathroom, with two little colorful stools sitting next to the sink, presumably for the boys. Next door was closed, with Claire posted on it in bright pink and glittery wooden letters. Catty corner to her room was John's door, as his had the same wooden letters sticking to it, in red and blue. Next to John's bedroom door was little Colin's. His was halfway open, green and orange letters spelling out his name. Inside, Clara was sitting in a rocking chair next to a solid oak crib, the little kit in her lap, hugging a blue plush dragon and sucking on his binky. She was quietly reading him a bedtime story, the entire scene just tugging at Tyler's heartstrings. "Here we are, Tyler," Harold said, pushing open a soft white door. Tyler smiled, the room painted a deep forest green, which went well with the hardwood as well. There was a desk resting under a window with a matching green curtain covering it. Tyler's luggage was set on top of an old-fashioned steamer trunk set at the foot of the queen-sized bed. Off to the side was a door that opened to a private bathroom, with an indoor closet close to it as well. Above was a ceiling fan with lights and a small lamp on the bedside table. "Now I know that it's a bit spartan, but I'm sure we can make it much more comfortable for you as you get all settled in." "N-no! It's fine as it is!" Tyler said, meaning it. "Are you sure? I mean, before, it had been decorated by Claire for a little sleepover she had with some of her friends... and we figured that you might not appreciate all the bows and ruffles and lace and glitter." Tyler tried to repress a shudder at the thought of him sleeping in such a room. "If you'd prefer a change, don't be afraid to let us know... even if you'd like us to put it back to its pretty princess theme." Tyler rolled his eyes, and shook his head. "Uhm... thanks, but yeah, I think I like this best." "Okay, Bud! Now if you need anything, feel free to come and get us, we're just upstairs." "Will do, Harold." Tyler smiled. "Goodnight, Tyler," Harold said, heading to the door. "Goodnight." Finally left to his own devices, Tyler went to his suitcase and unzipped it, unfolding his clothes and hanging them up in the closet. He stopped and looked at his dark blue suit, considering wearing it to his upcoming interview. It was his best suit, one of the last gifts his father ever gave him... and yet his eyes were immediately drawn to some tears down the right lapel, stitched together the best he could, but noticeable nonetheless. His frown deepened as he took in the left side, in the midsection, where there was a large slice also stitched closed. Despite the dark blue, he could still see some of the bloodstain. His paws started to shake and his breath became more rapid as looking upon the suit brought him right back to that terrible night... NO! He won't think about it tonight. Getting it on a hanger, he hung it up in the closet. Next to it was a bright green polo shirt that would go well with a pair of khaki slacks. While a suit and tie were typically considered more professional for a job interview, the shabby state of his only one did not sit well for Tyler, On the other paw, the green polo and khakis was a look that also seemed professional, and the fact that these were new and devoid of any cuts or blood stains... The winged cat took a moment to consider it, and decided to lay out the polo and khakis for the interview. He let out a yawn and changed into his favorite pj's, a simple gray tank top and matching shorts, Tyler went into his new bathroom and brushed his teeth before slipping into bed and turning out the light. He had just closed his eyes, when he heard a quiet creak from the bedroom door opening. Cracking open his eyes, he saw Colin try to tiptoe into the room, his arms behind his back. "Colin?" Tyler said in a quiet voice, sitting up. Startled at being caught, the little black bunny jumped a bit before looking down at his feet, covered in his purple footed sleeper. Still sucking on his binky, the bunny approached Tyler and pulled his purple teddy bear out from behind his back. He pushed the plush towards the grown cat, eyes wide and hopeful. Tyler thought about his options. His first option would be to gently refuse the toy, but he got the feeling that it would make Colin upset. He could accept the plush friend and worried about anyone finding him with it. Would the Marbles' assume he'd just taken it from the baby of the family? Or would they find it weird that he'd sleep with a stuffed animal? Looking back down at Colin, Tyler sighed and smiled, taking the teddy-bear from him. "Th-thanks, little dude. I'll hold onto him for a little while, okay?" Colin happily nodded and practically ran back out the room, letting out an excited giggle. Tyler felt good about making the little guy so happy, but then looked down at the purple teddy bear. It had black button eyes, a bright pink nose, and a small smile stitched onto its muzzle. Something about the plushie just felt so... familiar. Getting back under the covers, he turned the bear over, that familiar feeling really starting to bug the feline in the back of his mind. Just as he was about to set it on the bedside table, Tyler let out a large yawn, and curled up, unaware that he was hugging the bear to his chest now, and drifted off to sleep. The Next Day... Golden sunlight shone down, causing the dewdrops to twinkle as Tyler slowly drove by. After a quick, yet delicious, breakfast of oatmeal with some fresh raspberries added in, Harold and Clara wished him a good day just as they started to get their kits ready for school, and in Colin's case, a playdate. The more he observed the Marble family, the more Tyler felt a pang of hurt. Pushing those feelings aside and concentrating on the directions that Harold had given him to get to his interview. After leaving the quaint neighborhoods behind, Tyler stopped the car at an intersection, his breath catching in his throat. Houses and buildings gave way to the sight of the lake that the town took its name from. It was massive with crystal clear waters lapping against a nearby dock. Practically ringing the body of water were cherry blossoms, in full bloom. Reluctantly, as he felt he could just stare at the picturesque scene for hours, he turned right and headed up the main street. It was actually pretty quaint seeing all the little businesses he was passing by. He spotted a surprisingly large raccoon man in a green apron sweeping the sidewalk in front of a bakery. He spotted Tyler and smiled, giving a hearty wave, which the feline returned. As he drove on, in the direction of his upcoming interview, he once more couldn't believe his sudden stroke of luck. Having been looking down the barrel of homelessness, now here he was, in this idyllic little town, renting a room with the last of his dwindled savings, about to give his all to land a job at said town's local candy factory. Cresting a hill, he could see it, a large building built right next to the water, a giant water wheel turning in a river feeding into the lake. The building seemed to be made of brick, and was painted a bright cherry red. "Here goes nothing," Tyler muttered to himself, briefly checking to make sure his fur still looked brushed and presentable, and that his polo shirt and khakis were wrinkle free. Giving his reflection a nod, he continued on towards the unknown, feeling a burst of confidence bloom in his chest. Let me know what you guys think of the idea so far!

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’.

A Good Psychologist Hello all… it’s been a bit since my last story…but I decided to write another one, I was going for something short but it seemed to run a little longer than expected… I have been working on it for a while, and though it’s not exactly any kind of a new idea, it’s what I like so. I tried to write it in first person and found that to be harder than expected, I really found the past or present tense to get a little confused, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be any publishers fighting over this. I don’t mean to insult anyone’s profession, nor did I do any research or really know anything about psychologists. So to be clear this is a fictional story, that twists the discrimination of “forced” for my own mental health.(I don’t think it’s extremely healthy to fantasize about being forced into regression, but sometimes you like what you like, and try to accept that) Also I do not mean to offend anyone by categorizing groups or particular desires, again just a fake story. I hope that some of you enjoy it, and I do enjoy your comments, unless they’re mean. I don’t mind constructive criticism, but there’s nothing helpful about mean. And!! I think it’s kinda a happy ending. Chapter 1 Hello my name is Jon, actually it’s Jonathan but most everyone just calls me Jon. How to start such a strange story I guess at the beginning… I graduated top of my class with a doctorate in psychology in my early 20s and soon after got married to my best friend and beautiful wife, Maureen. After working for a private practice for a couple years I decided to start my own practice. The first couple years were not easy, and I had to work hard to accumulate patients, and keep money flowing, being on my own was not easy. However I was driven, and very interested in helping people. I soon started writing a book, and through research, and my passion. I found an editor, and got the book published. It turned out to be a huge success in the psychological world. Now in my mid 30s my clients became the “cream of the crop” as they say, and I became highly regarded, and sot after. My patients soon became all upper class people, and with that their highest priority was privacy and quality care, which I was able to provide with my small practice and excellence in the field and attention to detail. I would use many tactics to help my clients and finding the right approach for each client was not easy. I found the most effective approach was to reach my patients was true empathy, and whether my patient was a board house wife to a rich husband or a drug addicted rock star, my main goal was to be able to connect with them at their level and work together to find ways to make our lives better. Even though most of my patients were very first world problems that normal people might find insignificant they were very real problems to my clients. My wife educated with a financial degree soon became my partner in business as well, with book sales and high end patients, we quickly realized I did not need to handle it alone, and we would be the perfect team. Her position initially dealt with scheduling, billing, and supplies, but she slowly developed into helping comfort the patients, and setting up situations for my patients and I to overcome. That may sound deceptive and sometimes it was, but I assure you it was always in my patients best interests and I feel like by the end of the therapy I truly I had a new friend. I always felt like Maureen, and I had a perfect relationship, we shared interests, helped each other, and communicated well. Our sex life wasn’t overly complicated but I always felt like we connected and shared satisfaction. Even though we discussed it, so far we haven’t had any kids. I wasn’t against the idea of being a father and really wasn’t precautious but it just never happened. I always just assumed if it was supposed to happen it would, and I felt like Maureen felt the same. So our lives together seemed as perfect as it could be. We ran a successful business from our house, financially comfortable, we had friends, vacationed regularly, and generally enjoyed our lives, all before our 40s. With all that being said, my passion was my work, I wanted to find more answers, I wanted to be able to share and help those that needed it. So I started my second book. The first book as I earlier mentioned was edited and published by a company and this company was also eager for me to get a another book in the the works, “strike while the irons hot” as they say. But with the new technology of AI, and looking at the publishing fees, profits, and retail costs, I decided that I could not only make more money, but sell the book cheaper online if I did it myself. So last Christmas Maureen and I went to our local Apple Store, and went crazy we not only got new laptops equipped with the latest AI software but also got new phones, watches, and earbuds. This was a huge upgrade, and because we were getting on the same network we were able to have all the devices connected to each other wirelessly and to back it up further there was the cloud. We really got into the whole system, I named my phone Sandy and had her have an English accent, mostly because I thought it was cute. Maureen’s phone was Henry and she had him sound a little thuggish which was also funny. Soon we found ourselves having another couple around the house to talk with regularly, most mornings I would wake up and I simply had to say “Sandy, how did I sleep? What’s the weather going to look like today? What is my earliest appointment” she was always quick to respond and soon it was like having new family members, that were always there listening and quick to respond with accurate information. Now here I am most days either seeing patients or quietly working in my office, earbuds in, thumping across my keyboard of my laptop writing my new book, complete with quick access to Sandy for spelling and punctuation corrections and easy access to the World Wide Web for any earlier studies published. Also being able to compare my clients and experience. It was an extremely productive way to write a book. Another thing that Sandy was able to help with was my health, I am not completely sure how it works but through my watch she established my systems normals, she put out on a daily basis my sleep efficiency, stress levels, mood, heart rate, and system functions. She would also encouraged diet and exercise routines, it was quite remarkable. However I didn’t take her advice usually, but over a few weeks her small suggestions seemed to help. One of her biggest concerns regarding my health was my sleep quality and time, which she would regularly encourage me to go to bed earlier and remind me of high sugar or caffeinated foods and beverages that would interfere. It was kinda like having a mother at times. I found it kinda fun to reply with a snide remark and in some cases straight up rude. She would say something like “Jon it is now 9 o’clock, I suggest you should consider preparing for bed and please refrain from sugar or coffee” And I would reply “ Fuck off sandy” or “who do you think you are.. my mother” or “Sandy I will do exactly what I want so screw you” And she would simply reply “Jon I am simply suggesting things to help you feel better” But over a few weeks I found myself going to bed a little earlier, so I guess the system worked. However I have never been a great sleeper so my sleep report didn’t get significantly better. My wife Maureen on the other hand had her own health report and Henry would similarly report his findings and suggestions to her, but it seems his findings were significantly different than mine, she apparently slept too much, and his suggestion were that she needed to bring her heart rate up more often and her metabolism would follow. Now I don’t think my wife is fat or anything but she’s definitely full figured, and not that size ever mattered in our relationship but she’s a good bit bigger overall than I am, not that I am particularly small either. I am pretty average, close to 5’7” and something like almost 150 lbs. and she’s like just over 6’ and I’d guess 200ish pounds, not that I ever asked or would I. So her conversations with Henry in the evenings while she snuggled into the couch dozing off, would go something like this. “Maureen it is only 7 pm maybe have a cup of coffee it’s too early for bed” And her response was something like this “Henry I will go to sleep whenever I want to so stick it” But just like me over a few weeks she stayed up a little later. And just like me it wasn’t completely effective because she tended to sleep in a little longer. Now one time Henry tried to wake her up a little early but apparently if you make it completely clear that you don’t want to hear a suggestion the AI system will not suggest. So that was that. So here’s where things get a little bit weird. My wife received the call from the well to do family near by. I couldn’t help but over hear her side of the conversation, by this point my wife became very smooth and comfortable with almost any conversation with any of my patients. So it caught me off guard when I heard her stutter her words uncomfortably in response. The conversation went somewhat like this “Hello this is A path psychology how may I help?” In Maureen’s sweet and comforting tone. “Yes this is Jon’s office” “Well unfortunately his schedule is fairly full this week but..” “Well, Yes Mrs Crull I have heard of your family” “Uh… so is this an emergency?” Then I overheard a very strong voice from the phone repeat the question. My wife held the phone a little further from her ear and calmly responded “Can you please describe the nature of your emergency?” And again I heard the strong female voice say “My fucking pansy son won’t quit wearing diapers” Now with this, my wife seemed to be a bit stuck for words but eventually repeated “Diapers?” Which now I was standing next to her as I heard Mrs Crull reply “Yes Fucking DIAPERS” My wife looked confused as ever and continued to respond calmly “Diapers…well I don’t understand what the emergency is” Which was quickly answered by Mrs Crull even more harshly replied “He’s fucking 25 years old” At this point I gestured to take the call by putting my hand out, which my Maureen just raised her eyebrows with a smile and handed me the phone. I quickly replied “Yes Hello Mrs Crull this is Jon how may I help?” Mrs Crull seemed to calm down a tad upon hearing my voice and gave me a quick harsh reply “Yes Jon, my son needs to be seen today, I will make it worth your while, and you need to make this happen” I really didn’t need to spend any more time speaking with this delightful woman so, understanding the influence of the particular family and a reasonable amount of curiosity with a slight mix of greed, I simply replied “3 o’clock “ Which was quickly returned with the sound of a phone disconnecting. I looked at my wife and raised a eyebrow back at her with a quick smile “This should be interesting “ That afternoon in between a few other patients, I had Sandy google adults that wear diapers, even though I have heard of this type of behavior, I wasn’t very familiar with the condition, I just hoped I would find a slightly better understanding. Unfortunately the sites that I found seemed mostly like porn sights, and found really no dependable sources for in-depth information. So with that I decided I would simply wing it, and derive a plan after the first meeting. My wife and I eagerly awaited by the window for our new customer, and at 10 til 3 a Mercedes-Benz Maybach pulled into the driveway, and a bottled blonde woman erupted effortlessly from the driver’s side back seat barely before the car came to a complete stop. She quickly rounded the car in I’m guessing 4” high heels and opened the passenger side rear door and without hesitation or even a struggle pulled a large young man from his seat. I overheard my wife as she directed the man up the sidewalk quietly say “well you don’t see that every day” The man held a blank expression as I correctly assumed his mother directed him from behind by his shoulder. The situation seemed to stick with me for a moment there was a couple of things that caught my attention First he didn’t necessarily look upset, either he was used to being pushed around or he wanted it. Second even though Mrs Crull looked to be in decent shape she could not have actually forced her son to move from the car let alone up the sidewalk. He was a fairly large man. Third he was clearly wearing a diaper. The childish T-shirt he wore was riding up his stomach clearly showing his white waistband of a disposable diaper as his mother pushed at his shoulder and the sweat pants though baggy were clearly sagging off his waist, and puffed out around his hips. Which he made no attempts to hide. I made my way towards the front door as I expected to hear a knock, surprised by the door being pushed open and the young man pushed inside. I quickly regained my composure as Mrs Crull stopped and letting go of her son who stumbled forward a step. I held my hand out as I introduced myself “Hello I’m Jon and this is my wife Maureen and we…” Mrs Crull without even looking at my held up hand interrupted. “This is my sorry excuse for a son, he seems to think he wants to be a toddler or something … I might have fucked him up but you need to fix this shit, I will be back to collect his sorry ass in a hour… and I had better see some progress” She was turning back out of the still open door with no attempt to close it behind her as she finished talking. I was surprised to hear her take any responsibility, for “ fucking him up” but as smoothly as possible I simply turned and looked up at the man standing in front of me, and calmly said. “Like I was saying I am Jon and this is my wife Maureen and this is my home as well as my practice A path psychology” The man blinked firmly and focused his eyes on me with a stoned look on his face simply and clearly replying. “I’m Mike” He made no attempt to shake my still held out hand. I gave him a light pat on his upper bicep and still in a calm and relaxed tone said. “Ok well hi Mike… why don’t we go into my office and get a bit more comfortable.” He tilted his head slightly at least acknowledging I had said something and I turned towards my office a few feet away, I heard a soft crinkle noise behind me, as I held the door open and he toddled by me, I gave my wife a glance again with raised eyebrows as she returned the same look and she shut the front door as I shut my office door. The first meeting went as I expected, if I had any. As I sat into my large office chair and grabbed a legal pad I looked to direct Mike, but as I turned in his direction he had already found his way and with a soft crinkle sank onto the couch. His familiarity with the situation made me think this is not his first therapy session. I went through the typical questions, “Mike how old are you?” He quietly replied “26”….“Do you have any drugs or foreign substances in your system?” “Do you want to harm yourself or anyone else?” “Do you feel like you are in danger or is there anything that might cause you physical harm?” “Do have any physical disabilities or ailments?” “Do you have a job or profession?” “Are you married or have significant other?” “Do you have any children?” In which he continued to answer quietly “no” to each question. He sat comfortably with an occasional shift into the couch, without any look of concern. Mike looked a little messy in a childish T-shirt and sweat pants but I wouldn’t say he looked dirty, he had obviously taken a shower and shaved recently his hair was short, and was just shuffled into place. In fact I would say he was a handsome fellow, probably about 6’2 or so, maybe a little chubby but not fat. So I finally asked about the elephant in the room. So your mom says you wear diapers? Still calm and comfortable he replied “Yep” So I obviously was only going to get one word answers, so instead of pushing to get him to open up about the subject I decided to just go with questions that were easy one word answers, with the little information I got from a limited amount of research I came up with the obvious questions first. “Are you incontinent?” “No” “Do you like wearing diapers?” Yup “Is it a sexually exciting “ “Sometimes” “Do you wear them all the time?” “Yes” “How long have you worn diapers “ “A while” “Do you use the diapers?” “Yes” “Do you think you are a small child?” Mike responded with a slight frown as he answered “No” The next obvious question especially given the slight frown was, “would you like to be a small child?” I again caught an uncomfortable look, but again a short answer “Complicated” with a short sigh. I couldn’t help by try to get a little more out of him, so I had to ask. “Would you like to elaborate?” He answered quickly with again a blank expression “Nope” Which was no surprise to me. Well believe it or not I actually felt like I got somewhere with my interrogation, and decided that was enough. I needed to derive some kind of plan before any pushback could occur, since I still had like 45 minutes left I figured I could just talk for a bit expecting no answers. “So… I guess I’m in a bit of a pickle here. First of all since there is no clear signs of any actual emergency, and second I really don’t see any actual danger or even a problem really, with your choice of underwear, I don’t think I will satisfy your mother’s requirements for improvement. But I think I can deal with that. However I can understand to some degree her discomfort in your choice of underwear, and I don’t think you should make it any of her business. To be completely honest, I really don’t know much about what is called Infantilism. Which seems to be the condition you display. So my first plan is to try to gather as much information as possible on the topic, as to best support you.” I paused for a few moments as he blankly looked back at me. “Once again I particularly don’t care about your bathroom habits or your choice of underwear but, I also feel that your life can become more comfortable if you were to at least consider to conceal your underwear, especially around your mother, and my job is to help make your life better.” I thought about it a few seconds and looked at Mike, who maintained his nonchalant appearance. I felt like it was good advice. However I also realized it was not any solution. I sat quietly for a long minute or so. I really didn’t expect Mike to respond, but at this point I really had nothing else to say. So that’s exactly what I said. “At this point I really don’t have anything to say, if you want to talk or elaborate in any way I am here to listen. We still have about a half hour left so just make your self comfortable, if you should need a bathroom feel free to use the restroom in the entryway.” I gave him a small smile with that. For the next 1/2 hour we sat quietly. I thought about how exactly to help this situation, and even though I didn’t think it was a dangerous situation in anyway, or there was any harm in wearing diapers. I couldn’t help but think a healthy functioning adult would not want to wear diapers. My first thought was why, and I decided that the only way to find out was to try it myself. Soon enough as I pondered, the large sedan pulled back into my driveway I sighed slightly as I turned up to look at Mike now with his eyes closed, saying calmly. “You’re mother is back Mike” I remained seated and watched Mike slowly open his eyes stand up and wobble slowly towards the door, as he got to my entry way he stopped pulled his sweat pants up over the waist band of his diaper and tightened the draw string then pulled his T-shirt down. I thought well that’s a start. I simply said “thanks Mike” My front door was again pushed open and Mrs. Crull commanded my attention as her heals clacked against my hard wood floor. She wasn’t even completely through the front door before saying “At least I can’t see his pissy diaper” as she looked at her son. She continued to walk towards me and past her son with effortless motion as I started to say “Hello Mrs. Crull can I have” but I was interrupted as she grumbled “Go wait in the car” which was obviously directed towards Mike. She stopped in the center of my office and dug briefly into her purse. I couldn’t help but study her as it became quiet for a bit. The best word to describe her was perfect. Her blond hair wrapped perfectly around her head, down just past her shoulders. Her make up was blended perfectly without even the slightest blemish, while outlining each feature perfectly. Her pale pink business suit formed around her body perfectly, leaving just the top of her cleavage exposed, highlighted perfectly by a very expensive looking necklace. Every part of her was manicured or manufactured precisely for her today. I really couldn’t say how old she was, somewhere between 40 and 60 I’d guess. I however wouldn’t use the word attractive. I couldn’t help but think, it must be tough to maintain. I barely started a sentence as I was again interrupted. “You are highly recommended, which comes with high expectations, which will be difficult to achieve. Today is Monday, and I expect for you to see my son again on Thursday at 3 pm and every Thursday at 3 until further notice. I will not be accompanying him. Here is a check for 100,000 dollars, with this I expect to see real results in the next 10 weeks. You do understand who I am. I expect complete anonymity, if I so much as hear my name and yours in the same sentence, or you don’t live up to expectations, let’s just say you’re life will become much less comfortable.” She placed the check on my desk as I stood there dumbly with my mouth still open. Without any hesitation her heals clacked against my hardwood floors as she walked directly out of my house. I collected myself briefly and picked up her check, and looked at the 5 zeros following the 1, realizing the check was as real as the threat. I turned to see my wife with a very surprised look on her face, say “what are you going to do?” My answer was quick “going to the store” as I handed her the check and headed for the front door which was still open. She hesitated slightly then asked “for what?” And I responded “Diapers” as I shut the front door behind me. Chapter 2 A half hour later I hustled up the stairs to my bedroom, with a package of adult diapers under my arm. I quickly kicked off my pants, and underwear as I ripped open the package, flopping onto my bed, and sliding a diaper out of the pack. I could hear Maureen calling ”Jon? Are you here?” As she made her way up the stairs. I flipped the flimsy plastic material this way, and that as I unfolded the thin padded garment in front of me. Finally I slid the diaper underneath me, and struggled to see what exactly to stretch around me. I looked up as my wife stood in the doorway, with a smirk on her face. “Jon relax… it’s not running away!” She said with a chuckle. I fell back in frustration to the bed, as Maureen pushed my knees apart, that hung over the edge. She pulled at the diaper, saying “lift your bum… Jon I know this is important but you need to calm down… you have 10 weeks and I’m sure you’ll work this out” while she spoke, she calmly nudged my butt back to rest on the diaper, before finishing her sentence she folded it over my groin, and I could hear the tapes as she wrapped it around me, and finished the process with a light pat on my penis. I knew she was right, but I wasn’t feeling too patient. I stood next to the bed, and stretched about a bit trying to figure out how to make it fit. I looked down at the garment, trying to understand why anyone would want to wear such a silly thing. It wasn’t comfortable, and crinkled loudly as I moved. I looked at myself in the mirror, it looked medical, and sloppy with a blue line running down the center, and extra plastic hanging off the edges, nothing about it even seemed childish. My wife looked at me still with a light smile saying “what do ya think?” The first response I could come up with was “I don’t think I am going to understand this, I can’t see why anyone would want to wear one of these” her face kinda fell, as she asked “well what are you going to do?” I shrugged in responded “keep wearing them” she rolled her eyes, and turned to leave as she replied “ok sounds like a good plan” with a good bit of sarcasm in her tone. Then on her way down the stairs she continued to say “Why don’t you put some pants on and come down to dinner” I sat down in my normal spot at the kitchen table, as she set my dinner in front of me, and noticed her iPad, and cell phone across the table. My wife taking a more serious tone continued our conversation. “So Jon… I couldn’t help but overhear the delightful Mrs. Crull’s…. Threat? And since this particular situation will most likely impact both of our…lifestyles significantly, and it does seem to have, well let’s just say it appears you may need a little help. I decided to do a little research on this… subject on my own.” Typical I don’t get my wife to involved with therapy techniques, or any kind of diagnosis of my patients. I don’t want to degrade her in anyway, but I am a highly educated psychologist, not to mention quite accomplished, and she is really good at accounting, and business. However she is correct in that this could potentially effect both of our lives drastically. So in this case I have no option but to listen to her “research”, and replied “what ya got?” She started flipping through her iPad as she spoke. “Well I don’t know what our Mikey had to say today, but it seems he is into something they call ABDL, which stands for adult baby diaper lovers. Now it seems there are several sites on the internet that people like him join. Where they actively engage in a multitude of things…like sharing stories, and reviewing products, or whatever. There definitely seems to be quite a few people interested in this, like this site has almost 60,000 members. There doesn’t seem to be any typical age, or sex, looking through a few profiles there’s girls and boys of all ages. It also, looks like there is two different… uh kinks? kinda I mean they’re obviously related, but some are like just into the diaper thing, so they’re DLs, and they don’t seem to be into the baby thing, and others are, like more into, I guess you might say regression, making them ABs. So do you think our Mikey is a AB or a DL?” I was in the middle of chewing my food, and carefully paused a bit. A couple things that jumped in my head bothered me. First I didn’t really like referring to my patient as, “our Mikey” I don’t know why but it just bothered me. Next I didn’t think basing my psychological research on some kinda fetish website was a good idea, we needed actual psychological research done by actual professionals, but there was no way I could tell my wife, that her information seemed irrelevant, not that she would let me anyway. So I thought for another second and answered, as I swallowed my food. “Well given his childish t-shirt, and his answer to the question I asked him. Do you want to be a child? And I quote “complicated” I’d say he’s more AB.” My wife seemed to be processing that information for a few seconds, while again scanning, and flipping through her iPad. “Well I guess we can go with that… but there seems to be a slight divide in this group as well. Some seem to find the uh… situation? As uh well sexy… while others seem to just find it… comforting? Or maybe relieving, and a few of those seem to think it’s… I guess you might say inappropriate to find it sexy. So do you think Mike finds it sexy?” She smiled a touch as she finished her question. My response was pretty quick having no reason to delay. “Well I know it’s not much to go on, because I only got one word answers out of him, but I did actually ask him exactly that, and his response was ‘sometimes’ so there’s that” She stopped looking at her iPad and even had a pleasant look of accomplishment while she summarized. “Well given that, I’d say our Mikey seems to be a adult baby that finds it sexy” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her, thinking very scientific diagnosis, but I didn’t think it would help much to reply. I finished my dinner quietly, then felt the familiar pressure of having to pee. I stood up, and causualy made my way towards the bathroom, when it dawned on me I was wearing a diaper. I turned towards my wife as she cleaned up the dishes, and , said “I have to pee” She gave me a quick so-what look but stopped, and replied “oh…ya…uh well, so what are you going to do?” I knew that the situation was inevitable, but I really didn’t have a plan, besides I had to try to figure out why, or what was so attractive about wearing a diaper. So this is definitely part of that. I gave her a questioning look, and said. “I guess I will use this thing.” I stood there awkwardly trying to figure out what was the best position for this, and slowly spread my legs slightly looking down at my pants. I tried to release the building pressure, but nothing happened. My wife watched with a curious smile, as I tried, eventually saying “well?” My response was immediate. “I just can’t do it!” “What do you mean, you can’t do it?” “I don’t know…it just won’t go” She laughed a bit, and replied “well maybe you don’t have to go” “I sure feel like I have to… it just won’t come out” “Maybe it’s a head thing… go stand by the toilet, and try there” I gave her a exasperated look, and walked up to my bathroom, lifted the seat, and unbuttoned my pants, then felt the unfamiliar plastic where my penis usually is. Finally with a light grunt I felt a stream flow. I turned to see my wife standing at the door now with a wide smile spread across her face. “What’s so fucking funny?” I grumbled. As I felt the warm liquid fill around my groin. She only shook her head and chucked in response. I tilted my head back, and sighed as I heard the weird hissing noise, as pee sprayed against the inside of the diaper. I could feel a puddle forming in between my legs. Then suddenly I felt liquid escaping around the inside of my thigh. I panicked, and tried to stop my flow, but I couldn’t, then I felt pee rolling down my other thigh as I struggled to grab or prevent the diaper from leaking, calling out “it’s leaking!! The stupid thing is leaking!!” My wife laughed out loud as I pulled my pants below my knees seeing the yellow liquid flow down the inside of my legs, and darkening my pants, as I continued to pee. Finally I clinched shut as pee soaked into my socks. My wife laughing, and saying “Oh calm down Jon… it’s just a little pee… we’ll have this cleaned up in no time” I grunted in response as I stepped onto each pant leg, and pull my legs out, then repeated the process with my socks. “The stupid thing leaked.. what the fuck… why would... this is so stupid!” Saying as I released the tabs on the diaper letting it fall with a thunk. I finished undressing, and climbed in the shower as my wife picked up the mess, and asked, “what are you going to do now?” I thought for a moment as I turned on the shower… what was I going to do? The check for 100,000 dollars shot in my head, and the very real threat that came with all that money, I had no choice. I had to figure this out. I had to find a way to connect with Mike, we we’re going to solve this together. I harshly replied “What am I going to do? I’m going to keep wearing them.” My wife again replied with a sarcastic response, “Ya great plan… keep wearing them” The next couple days dragged by. I continued to wear the diapers and gradually was able to wet them without standing in front of the toilet, but it wasn’t easy. I had to try to release my pee, then had to really focus, and not to pee too much. I reduced my fluid intake, and tried to pee as soon as I felt any pressure. So occasionally when I got that right, and I didn’t leak, it felt like I was sitting in a puddle. There wasn’t anything even a little pleasant about wearing a wet diaper. On top of that I searched for any real research on paraphilic infantilism, which is the condition Mike displayed. However there was very minimal research documented, and any studies concluded that it was caused by various underlying issues with no evidence of any cure. So I was going to have to figure this out completely on my own. If this didn’t seem bad enough. I had my wife who seemed to find the situation amusing. Chapter 3 So as Thursday afternoon rolled around, my plan was to show Mike, I was willing to wear a diaper, and see where that went. Not a great plan. I sat in my office feeling slightly anxious as a newer Audi pulled in my driveway. Mike slowly, and carefully slid from the drivers seat, pulled a back pack over his shoulder, and walked awkwardly up the sidewalk with his legs spread out as far as possible. I rolled my eyes as I thought, this couldn’t be good. What could possibly be wrong now. He shoved through the front door, and waddled towards me with a look of discomfort. I quickly said “Hi Mike how’s it” but he interrupted me “Can I use your bathroom?” I pointed to the restroom still in the foyer, and he stumbled by, and shut the door. Then the smell hit me, and it became obvious what the problem was. I shut the front door, giving it a couple waves in hopes to clear the air, and returned to sit, and wait in my office. About 10 minutes later Mike finally appeared. He walked directly out onto the front porch, and left a small, heavy looking trash bag outside, and shut the front door, then he much more smoothly walked into my office, and sat on the couch, without saying a word. I noticed he now had no expression of discomfort, or really any discernible emotion at all. So I started the appointment. “Hello Mike how’s things going?” Which he only shrugged in response. “Well so I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to wear diapers so, I tried it myself, in fact I’ve been wearing them all week” I finally got some reaction from him, and he looked at me as if I poked him with a pin. “You’re wearing one now?” I stood up, and pulled my pants down a bit exposing the diaper, as I replied “Yup” “You’ve been wearing those diapers all week?” Mike quickly asked with a questioning expression Again I said “Yup” “And you have been using those diapers?.. for anything at all?” I couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned, and stuttered a bit “well ya… ya I’ve been uh…wetting them” He paused in thought, and his expression changed again to more of a mischievous look asking. “So you’re telling me that you’ve been wearing THOSE diapers all week, and you have been peeing in them?” My concerns continued to grow, thinking where is this going, but I slowly nodded, and said “Yes” A smile grew across his face like he was a attorney, and just won the big case, and asked “and how’s that been going for you?” I could tell he was definitely up to something, and knew I had to answer completely honestly. “Well to be honest.. horribly, first they’re hot, and itchy generally uncomfortable as hell, then I can’t get use to wetting them at all, sometimes I have to go stand in front of the toilet before I can even go. Then I can’t pee too much because they leak right away, then if I am able to wet them, without leaks they feel like I’m sitting in a warm puddle until it gets cold which is worse. I can’t understand why anyone would want to wear them.” Mike seemed thoroughly entertained by my review, as he replied he started digging into his backpack. “I can’t believe you’re wearing a diaper! That’s so funny…I’ve never had a therapist or whatever do that, and you’re totally right about those cheap ass store brand diapers, they totally suck. I don’t even know why they make those (He held out his hand with what looked like a thick stack of diapers) here try these.. there’s only three of them there, but they last a lot longer and they’re so much more comfy” I was so excited to be connecting with him, I would have taken a handful of used diapers, my plan was working we we’re going to be best friends in no time. I leaned forward to accept his gift, and replied. “Are you sure you don’t need them?” “Nope you’re good. I got cases of them, I’m going 24/7 so it’s best not to run low, but they might be a bit big on you, if you want you can get a smaller size online at medical supply stores, and if you try you can even get them the next day” I took the stack of diapers, and could instantly feel they were much better quality, like thick, and sturdy but the outer cover was soft, I couldn’t believe there were only three diapers, the same size stack would probably be 10 of the ones I was wearing. “Ok thanks I’ll check it out” I paused for a second, and wanted to keep the conversation going so I needed something more to discuss, and asked. “24/7 what’s that mean?” “Oh 24/7? That means wearing a diaper 24 hour a day 7 days a week…everything in a diaper” “Geez that’s quite a commitment, I don’t think I could do that.” “Ya it’s tough… this time I’m going on almost 2 months, but I can’t say that a few times I didn’t think that regular underwear would be easier, but this is the longest I’ve made it yet.” My mind cheered with enthusiasm, not only were we really connecting. but I could see a real possibility that he would get back into underwear soon. I had to keep my cool though I couldn’t push too hard, but I needed more information. “I have a hard time just being able to pee in the diaper, it would be real hard to do this for two months” He was eager to share his experience and quickly answered. “Well confidence in your diaper goes a long way, just drink lots of water, and it gets easier over time. I can pretty much pee whenever ….but also I use hypnotic recordings, I just listen to one as I go to sleep. I am not certain they work, or maybe I haven’t found the right one, but you can find tons of them for free online” My mind just hoped to the next question I had to keep him talking, and he seems really interested in helping me. “Hypnotic recordings? How would that help?” “I think the key is to actually need your diaper, so you have to wear diapers, it’s supposed to do that, but I don’t think I have had a actual accident yet.” I looked at him in shock realizing he was trying to become completely incontinent. The next sentence just feel from my mouth. “Why would you want that?” I regretted it as soon as I said it, and it wasn’t just the question. It was my facial expression of disgust, my ridiculing tone of voice. I totally fucked up. I could see his face drop, his realization that he was talking to a psychologist, then he said the word that I hated to hear. “Whatever” I tried to apologize but I new it was over. We sat quietly for the rest of the appointment, and about 10 til 4 he slowly picked himself off my couch, and slowly walked towards the door. I had to say something before he left, but the best I could come up with was “Mike I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to offend you” Mike slowly turned back, and gave me a sad look “I know Doc… maybe I’m just a little sensitive… I’ll see you next week” I just nodded in response. As Mike backed out of the driveway. I just sat there in thought, I had to fix this, how could I be so stupid, I had to find a way to reconnect, at least I think he’s giving me another shot.

This is a new story entirely based on fantasies that I have written with 22 chapters. Translated from another language. Here are the first two chapters. African experience By Sandman Chapter 1 - Africa Rob stretched out his legs on the couch and enjoyed an extra cup of coffee. The apartment that he rented was really something very special. Not least the large roof terrace where he sat and enjoyed his new life. The tranquility, the pleasant tropical heat, the view of the leafy pool area. Everything felt good. That he hadn't done this before! Rob almost got angry with himself when he thought about it. Financially, it wasn't a big deal, and he could do his job just as well here, if not better. It was still a bit nerve-wracking to have moved to a completely different part of the globe, but it had been a much-needed change of scenery. Now he was in place. Far, far from home in a continent where he didn't know a single person. Rob had landed yesterday, Wednesday. The journey had been stressful with unnecessarily long waits at three different airports. Passport control at the arrival had not impressed and the same with the baggage handling, but in the end, he had at least sat in the taxi with all his luggage. But it had been a struggle. For a long time, Rob had thought that his luggage was delayed or even completely lost. A small "bonus" to an employee at baggage handling had solved the problem. The first thing Rob had done when he arrived at Palm Court was to throw his bags into the apartment and buy a cold beer at the pool bar. After just a sip or two, Rob felt that the travel fatigue was starting to subside. The area felt calm and nice, and he had enjoyed watching the two African women sitting on the table next to him, drinking a cup of coffee. The move to Africa had come at a good time. His best friend and training partner Dan had also moved. Quite far away as well, which meant that they wouldn't be able to see each other very often. When Rob had been given peace that Dan was going to move, he too had started to play with the idea of replacing the safe everyday environment with something new. Something exotic. Pretty soon plan A had become Africa. A gigantic continent that Rob had only read about. Now he was there, and his apartment would be the central point of his new life. The interior designer had done a good job. The apartment was fully equipped and even the fridge and pantry were stocked with the basic items that he had specified. He was already starting to feel at home. Palm Court was a large condominium. A gated community. It was an oasis in the middle of the city with walking distance to incomparable beaches, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, you name it. Rob was in paradise. The only thing he really lacked right now was love, a girlfriend. He didn't need any other company. In that respect, he was very different from his best friend Dan, who could barely stand himself for an entire evening. Rob, on the other hand, needed to be completely by himself quite often. That was when he sat and wrote his books, but he also liked to roam around all on his own. Aimlessly and anonymously. Especially when he was in a city. However, Rob was not a lone wolf, and after a period of writing, he often had a pent-up need for socializing. Lately, Rob had started to think a lot about the future and thoughts about starting a family, but so far, he was not ready for family life with a house and dog. Being single still had some unbeatable advantages, which Rob made sure to take advantage of. He appreciated being free as a bird and being able to enjoy casual sexual acquaintances, but he didn't want it that way in the long run. Rob's plan was to take it easy for the first few weeks. Acclimatize and get to know the surroundings. He had also decided to put work aside completely for a while and treat himself to a soft start. The goal was to find a balance in life where a central part of everyday life would be about physical exercise. The training served as lighter fluid for Rob. It was during the training sessions that the ideas rushed forward and gave him a boost in his writing. A well-functioning home was also important. The less he had to think about simple everyday problems, the more focus he could put on his book projects. He had come a long way with the apartment, but he needed to hire someone who could clean and do the laundry. Apparently, it was a popular second work because Rob had barely landed before he ran into the cute girl at the pool bar who immediately offered her services. They had agreed to meet today, Thursday and she seemed perfect for the job. Above all, because she worked in the area and was already safety audited and approved. Rob had just finished a quiet and nice breakfast when there was a knock on the door. The bartender girl stood there with a smile on her face. ” Hello Mister! Do you remember me?” ” Hello Esther! Of course I remember you. Nice to see you again.” The answer from Rob was not a standard comment that flew out of him just to appear polite. The black woman in front of him, who was both socially gifted and sexy, appealed to him in many ways. She seemed to be somewhere in her 30s and after just a few minutes she had wrapped Rob around her little finger. Rob should of course have asked Esther for references at similar jobs, but you only live once, Rob thought and let his eyes choose. Esther was hired on the spot. A while after Esther had left the apartment, Rob had gone out onto the terrace and looked out over the pool area. He could both see and hear that there were a lot of families with children on Palm Court. These were families who seemed to live a privileged life, quite different from the much poorer families outside the fence. Rob could see that many of the housewives had nannies who played with the children, while their husbands were probably out at some well-paid job. Chapter 2 - Medical examination When Rob eventually went out on his first walk outside the gates of Palm Court, he had unexpectedly received a minor culture shock. Rob had in his wildest fantasy not imagined that there would be so few Westerners living here, but now he understood better. Esther had told Rob that expats in the area very rarely came from outside Africa. The same thing with the tourists. In other words, Rob was an odd bird, but it was one thing to hear someone else say it. Now he experienced it with his own eyes, and it was clearly a bigger adjustment than he had expected. Locally, people would refer to him as "the white man". The pale face. No personal name was needed because he was the one and only. The locals didn't mean anything bad by calling him "the white man". It was just a well-intentioned and apt description of his appearance, but Rob still found it a bit difficult. He wished he had been anonymous and discreet, instead of lighting up the sky like the pole star with his pale complexion, but deep down he felt that he would adapt. He would just have to give it some time. Because even though he stood out, he was met by smiles and the city and life on the street felt both harmonious and pleasant. Certainly, he could see that there were large gaps between rich and poor and that it was best to avoid certain areas, especially at certain times of the day. But it was nothing unique to this city, but a typical metropolitan phenomenon. One of Rob's first reflections on strolling around was that the women looked different from what he was used to. It wasn't the color of the skin that he was thinking about, but the anatomy and their sexy tits and asses. The girls were simply a little curvier here. But just like at home, it was a blissful mix of women with different looks. The difference here seemed to be that they were very proud of their bodies, even though they had a BMI far above ideal. Everywhere he saw upright women who unabashedly and naturally emphasized their feminine attributes. Over the years, Rob had had some hot relationships, but his paths had never crossed with a black woman. It had only happened that way because he had grown up and lived in environments where everyone had been white. Now it was just the opposite and only the future could answer whether this was where he would find the love of his life. The dream of a romance made him feel elated and he walked straight towards the beach. The tropical heat was oppressive, and he tried to walk slowly to avoid getting soaked in sweat. Down by the beach, Rob found what he was looking for. A simple lunch restaurant overlooking the sea. Rob took a deep breath and looked out over the green-turquoise water. Life felt like a luxury holiday. Gone was the gray everyday life, the stress and the scheduled day. Rob enjoyed seeing and hearing how the waves rolled in towards the beach, he enjoyed seeing all the happy people, who, just like Rob, appreciated the relaxed life with sun and sea. Pretty soon, Rob received renewed confirmation that he stood out with his pale skin. Some passing women had taken a detour near Rob's table, where they had discreetly stopped and straightened their bikinis or bent over and seemingly brushed off a grain of sand on a toe. It was women who wanted to show off their beach-clad bodies. Women who wanted Rob to look at them and Rob liked what he saw. He met their eyes with a happy smile. Rob marveled at how quickly humans took a liking to a person of the opposite sex. A quick glance was all that was needed for the blood to flow in the crotch, which then triggered hopes and feelings of pleasure. Rob was reminded that he longed for physical closeness to a woman. Life in Africa had started well and the lunch gave Rob another push forward. He was happy to be able to live this life. Pleased and satisfied after the lunch on the beach, Rob felt ready to make a visit to the gym. He had quickly walked past and looked in from the outside and it looked promising. The well-equipped gym was just a small part of the Micasa Health Club at the Palm Court pool area and membership was included for adult tenants at Palm Court. Rob was keen to continue with the training program that he had been doing regularly for the past few years, but there was only one small detail he had to investigate before he could train. Rob had read that you had to show a medical certificate before you could train. There must be some formality that they don't apply, Rob thought as he opened the front door and stepped into Micasa. ” Hello Mister! Welcome to our Health Club! I’m Faye, the gym instructor. What can I do for you sir!” ” Hello! Thanks! I’m a bit interested in starting to train in the gym.” ” Perfect! Please allow me to demonstrate our facility.” "Yes, please do!" The gym seemed well equipped, and the area was large and fresh. After showing Rob around, Faye asked if he had any questions. "Eh, I read something about medical certificates. Can I just show my certificate from home?" "Oh, no, unfortunately it is not possible. We have a requirement that you must be examined here at the club by our own staff. Should I book an appointment for you?" "Uh, .. Yes, please, that would be nice." "Let me see. We have an appointment free today at 14:30.” "Okay, that’s fine. I'll take it." Damn shit, Rob thought. For some reason, he hated health checks. He was fit as a fiddle but still there was something about being examined that he didn't like. A little frustrated by the bureaucratic rules at the gym, Rob went back to his apartment. Just before the agreed time, Rob walked down to Micasa, dressed in his gym clothes. His hope was to be able to do a proper workout immediately after the examination. "Hi Faye! Now I'm here for the health check. Where should I go?" "Hello! Come with me, I will show you where Fatima is housed." They walked in the opposite direction to the gym and at the end of the corridor was the examination room. "Hello Darling,” said a very beautiful woman. Rob had seen her before both at the bar and in the pool area. "Hello" he replied happily and was a little surprised that he suddenly started to feel very shy. "Are you closing the door on the way-out Faye?" said Fatima. "Yes boss! He is all yours" Faye replied with a smile and left the room. "Okay. Then we will start by filling in some information in the journal. "Fatima took out a tablet and logged in to an app. Then Rob had to answer an insane number of questions between heaven and earth. Every single vaccination was documented, as was basically every patch and cold he had had since he was an infant. It was as if the questions would never end, but suddenly Fatima said. ” Baby, please be so kind and take of your shoes, socks and t-shirt for me.” Okay, now it was apparently time to examine the body for real, Rob thought. He did as she said and wearing only sports shorts and underwear, he was thoroughly examined. She listened to her heart and lungs. Checked his blood pressure. Pricked his finger and took a blood sample. Rob even got to ride an exercise bike with a heart rate monitor around his chest for 10 minutes. Everything seemed to be normal. It was now that Rob thought Fatima was done, that all that remained was to print and sign the certificate. That he would get the green light to train at the gym. But the examination was not over at all, and Rob did not see it coming. Fatima took him completely by surprise by resolutely pulling off both shorts and underwear in one quick movement. What happened next almost made him go underground. The latex glove, the Vaseline, none of that he had paid attention to. No..she can't.... Upff.. Her finger had quickly found Rob's little hole, and she hadn't hesitated for a second. Now he stood there with her finger deep in his ass and was so ashamed that his cheeks had turned bright red. ” Relax baby.” Rob was far from relaxed and felt extremely embarrassed. However, Fatima seemed to enjoy the situation. ” Okey Darling. Does it hurt?” "Uh... no" "You like? " "Eh, well, .. uh.. I was not prepared for eh.." ” Baby, don’t be shy, just relax and be a nice little boy?” Her free hand cupped around Rob's balls, and it felt a little too nice to avoid erection. Rob's cock was growing and he really had to bite his tongue to try to limit the "consequences". ” Look at that!” said Fatima and caressed Robs semi-stiff manhood. “Someone’s babymaker is waking up!” Fully aware of what was happening, Fatima now began to slowly move her finger inside his ass. She quickly found a point that elicited insanely nice tickles and Rob found it difficult to stand still. ” Do you have a girlfriend, Darling?” "Eh, no" ” Why? Don’t you like ladies?” "Eh, yes I love women, absolutely. I'm 100 percent heterosexual but right now I don't have a relationship. Uh, oaaa.." Fatima caressed his balls and almost weighed it in her hand. Damn it. Now Rob could no longer control himself and his torpedo blossomed to its full length. ” Yes darling. That’s my baby! When was the last time you had pussy darling?” "Eh , but,, .. It was... okey, unfortunately quite a long time ago." ” Well, ... but when was the last time you used your right hand?” "But eh it..... If you absolutely have to know, I'm actually left-handed and did it a couple of days ago." ” Oh, you naughty little boy!! Well darling. Just so you know, it takes a couple of weeks to have your medical certificate ready. I hope that’s okey for you but ... you should know that there are ways to speed up the process.” She caressed Rob's cock as she said it. Rob couldn't help it, but his cock now stood like an iron skewer. "Uh...? What does that mean?" ” Well darling. You just need to be my little baby boy for a while. Me being your new master putting on a diaper on your white little ass......” Fuck! Rob hardly knew where to go. ” Relax darling, I’m just kidding but make sure you meet me at Ocean view restaurant at six o’clock tomorrow night.” Fatima did not expect an answer and ended the investigation of his now not so private areas. Slightly shocked, Rob put on his clothes while Fatima wrote something in her journal. ” See you later my little baby boy!” ”Eh... Yes Mom!” Damn it, Rob immediately regretted answering like that. It just flew out of him. Fatima raised her eyebrows and looked at him a little superiorly. ” Don’t be late darling, otherwise I will force you to bend over on my lap and spank your white little ass.” ” Okey, I get it!” On the way back to the apartment, Rob realized that his heart was pounding and was so excited that he was in a cold sweat. Fatima had made him feel inferior and the strange thing was that he couldn't decide if he liked it or not.

The child was just like any normal 9 year old child, he was in 4th grade in which she loved to read and is very good at long division. He likes school and seeing her friends but likes the weekends at home too where she doesn't usually have homework. His/her favorite color is pastel green. He/she loves watching Netflix and has a secret love for watching tv show for very little children even if they are "baby shows". He/she's currently working on reading an old book his mommy gave her called "harry potter" but still gets caught up on some big words. He/She also has a bit of an entitlement issue with being seen as a big boy since he's only about as big as the first and second graders and only just stopped sucking his thumb at night a few weeks ago. (Our RP starts as the little boy is doing his homework in the living room with train playing on the TV, the door bell rings his mommy answers the door to see the babysitter she had called for the night. This babysitter was different though and has promised to get her little boy to relax and enjoy being a "little" kid more.... I will play the adult characters. If you want play with me you can contact me privately)

Sara was gripping the armrest tightly as the plane's nose bent down and the pilot signaled their descent was beginning. Her stomach twisted into a knot and she nibbled on her lip, she was grateful for the noise cancelling ear buds her parents and bought her before the trip because her seat near the engine was loud. She would peak occasionally out the window next to her, seeing the lights of the city come closer into focus. She was as anxious as she'd been in her life, a few years ago she thought she might be able to live a normal life at home like any other girl, but the last year things had been getting worse and worse until her parents decided for her own safety and well being she needed to relocate even faster than they'd originally planned on. Mom and Dad still hadn't found new jobs or a new apartment out of her old state yet, but fortunately her aunt was going to be able to take her in until the whole family could move up. The last few weeks had involved a lot of tearful goodbyes at school and some packing. Most of her stuff would come up in the main move. All she had with her for now was a backpack and a carry on in the compartment above her. There were a few cheers and some scattered clapping as the plane landed. The person who had sat in the window seat beside her, a young man in maybe his mid twenties who hadn't said anything to her the whole flight still helped her get her purple duffle bag out of the overhead. Being short was in some ways a blessing, or it at least it probably would be in the future. Right now, blockers were holding off a traumatic growth spurt which meant even at 15 Sara was standing at 4'10. She stuttered out a thank you and stood while waiting to deplane, fidgeting with her sunflower lanyard as she slightly swayed in place. The terminal was fairly quiet at this time of night, she'd had to change a few time zones to get here. It wasn't empty but it was significantly less crowded than her departure. Since all she had was the clothes in her bag, a Switch, her laptop, and some personal possessions, she didn't need to pass through baggage claim. Her parents had told her that her aunt had no problem helping get her situated and when they were able to move up to her in a few months, they would bring all of her stuff to their new home. The small girl walked towards the arrivals area, her canvas sneakers squeaking slightly on the floor, each time making her flinch a little bit from the sound. She thought about going to the bathroom now that she was back on the ground but anxiety spiked in her at the thought. Ever since she'd been kicked out of the girls bathroom at school, the idea of using a public toilet made her uncomfortable and a little afraid. She fished into her jeans pocket and brought out her phone, texting out: "I'm here Aunt Hannah, where can I find you?" and sending it off to her aunt.

Laundry day. The day everyone dreaded during the week. Even just living by himself, that basket sure got filled fast! And Ravio didn't consider himself particularly messy....of course, no Little could afford to be. ...No free Little anyway. Every Little knew the rules, it was driven into your head by family and friends the instant any Little child was old enough to comprehend it. Be mature. Be polite. Never fuss or protest anything out in public, no matter what someone's saying to you. Be very careful how you dress....too cute was dangerous. Too sloppy meant you didn't know how to care for yourself. Too formally dressed up, and then someone might just accuse you of playing adult like a child dressing in their parent's oversized shoes. Don't show weakness or too much emotion when among the bigger folk. Never ever let anyone have any reason to doubt you were anything but a responsible mature adult. When you were a child....well. When you were smaller anyway....most Littles were pushed to try to skip past childhood as quickly as they could, all training to avoid a permanent second childhood. But when you were small, there was the fear that breaking the rules would put your parents at risk. An Amazon or even a Tweener child could throw a tantrum in public and the worst their parents would receive was a few dirty looks or the shake of a head. Little parents on the other hand...they could oh so easily be accused of clearly not being able to handle raising a child of their own. Perhaps they were too immature themselves.... Maturosis. The oh so beloved disease for Littles from Amazons. Do anything that would imply any level of immaturity and be branded with that label until the day you died. A disease that supposedly meant Adult Littles would turn back into toddlers or even further....and so they required the help of someone else to step in. Adoption. The biggest fear anyone who wasn't tall enough to be an Amazon faced every single day. Even Tweeners weren't fully safe. Littles though...Littles were always in danger. And so....Ravio followed the rules. He'd been pottytrained and threw the last tantrum so early in his life, he couldn't even remember it. Given up any stuffed animal or toy before he was finished elementary school. He finished school quickly and avoided the dangers of higher education. He couldn't afford to move to any Free Little country....or even a city primarily occupied by "progressives" where Adoption was far more rare. But he'd found a somewhat midsized town to move too, and made his home in an apartment with relatively okay rent prices. Sure it was sized for Tweeners, but it could be worse. Far worse. He even worked from home-editing with art and design commissions on the side-so he wouldn't risk the very common workplace Adoption. He either got his groceries delivered or made sure he did all his shopping during the late afternoon. Avoid people eyeing him for being out too late...and avoiding any stay at home mommies who might want a new sibling. He didn't go out drinking. He didn't risk seeing any movies or public events. He paid his rent early, and did his best to avoid any need of a repairman or a landlord needing to pop in. Ravio played it very safe. He followed every single rule, and so at twenty one, he was still a Free Little. How joyful, how wonderful, how lucky he was, truly. He shouldn't take it for granted. But...oh did it get tiring. Spend your entire life looking over your shoulder, and eventually you wondered what the point was if you were missing everything in front of you. He lived a safe boring closed off life. But it was a Free one. And still.... Ah. Those were the bad thoughts, the ones he never dared to let fully form. But would it be so bad to be... ...It was just the work getting to him. Laundry wasn't fun for anyone, never mind someone the size of what most the world had decided to see as a toddler. His basket and clothes were sized for him and easy to carry. But...the elevator button was far above his head. There was a button for Amazons. There was a button for Tweeners. Anyone sized below that either didn't need to worry about silly things like button pressing or had to get very good at jumping. That took a lot of time and energy! Trip down, and a trip up. And of course, once he reached the laundry room, all the bottom washers were already taken. Yep, a tiring day it was. Ravio resisted the urge to sigh, feeling nothing but resignation. Alright. Get to work then. There was one machine in the corner he could somewhat reach once he dragged a chair over to it. Then it was just the task of slowly climbing down and up the chair to drop his clothes in. Luckily he always brought his own detergent. Didn't have to worry about pouring a jug bigger than his own head that way! Just get that all set up and all he had to do was... Well. Reach as far as he could to reach the start button. Nothing he hadn't done thousands of times before throughout his life. But-well. His luck really was lacking today, because as Ravio strained juuuust a bit further to reach the button, he... Slipped. One little stupid foot too close to the edge, and he was plummeting right off the chair with nothing more than a squeak. ...Maybe he should've put laundry off for another day.

I've always got a hundred stories in my mind, but this just came-up and I had to write it down. Hopefully my muse remains with me. This fictional story contains explicit adult content and is intended for readers 18 and older. If you are under 18 or uncomfortable with mature themes, please stop reading now. Step Down Chapter 1 Present Day His first step brother was bad enough, but his new step-brother seemed even more unbearable because he was well-liked, had a good part-time job and had more freedom, but was younger! It was infuriating. And even if Lachlan used to tease him mercilessly for his bedwetting - even after his mom had split-up with Chris - that was at least 4 years ago and he’d thankfully finally stopped wetting. But Cayden still had a curfew at 19 years old for chrissakes! Noah had just turned 18 and could do what he wanted. He even had his own decent second-hand car. Sure, Cayden had gotten a low-level drink-driving charge, and just because his special licence conditions imposed a curfew, didn’t mean his parents had to! And he couldn’t believe his mum let his new step-dad spank him over it, nor did he really put up a fight or even run away from home - he knew he couldn’t take on Ross nor make it on his own yet. It was too shameful. He knew Noah must have been listening and laughing at the spanking. He wasn’t even able to drive his mum’s car without supervision for at least another 6 months. Noah wouldn’t let him anywhere near his old BMW. “You’d better wise-up bucko. You're very lucky my lawyer got you a Section 10 suspended license. Do you know how hard it is to get a job with a criminal record? Sometimes you can’t even travel to foreign countries with a DUI. You’re bloody lucky you didn’t kill someone, yourself or wreck the car. It’s going to be a long time before we can trust you like an adult again. You’ll need to show us you’re working towards being more responsible like Noah and either studying with a part-time job or joining the army and learn to behave like a man,” his step-dad Ross had reminded him again after the court date. No, Noah was the Golden Boy. He could do no wrong in Ross’ eyes and even his mum Steph fell in love with his charms. He’d just been accepted into the National Institute of Dramatic Art and mum had always loved drama at school, and had even been in amateur productions. Everyone was over the moon - they all expected he’d soon be on Neighbours or even in Hollywood or The West End in a few years. He’d already gained attention in regional High School drama competitions and he’d even been an extra in a couple of teen TV advertisements. It didn’t help Ross and Noah came from a rich family while Steph was more middle-class and they’d recently ended-up moving into Ross’ big fancy apartment on Sydney Harbour. Cayden had certainly noticed the hoity-toity attitude from Noah and his friends. Some of them owned yachts, horses, and went on big European holidays. Others were becoming doctors (ugh) and lawyers (ugh). One girl he fancied was even training to be a navy helicopter pilot. While they were usually polite, none of them really tried to hide their disdain for the nerdy or poorly-dressed Cayden. He’d even overheard Liv, Noah’s girlfriend, agreeing with Noah that he must still be a virgin - which was true, but still hurt - followed-up by the cruel laughter they all often employed. When he’d recently gotten some courage to talk to his counsellor about Lachlan and his teasing over his bedwetting, he’d said he probably still had some unprocessed trauma about the whole thing. And that might explain his disdain for Noah, who was clearly leagues ahead of him in maturity. It especially didn’t help when his mother Steph was convinced to get Cayden to wear Huggies DryNites pull-ups for his bedwetting because Lachlan would always complain about the smell and must have seen the benefit in doing less washing all the time. While Lachlan was relentless in the teasing over his “Huggies” - especially when he was wet in the morning - Cayden would beg to be allowed to try alternative methods (which he’d googled) such as special drugs, hypnosis or even just a washable bed pad. After speaking with the family doctor - always a terrifying ordeal for Cayden in front of the female doctor whenever his bedwetting came-up - his mum wasn’t keen on the drug side-effects. Besides, Dr Sharma said that nighttime protection could be beneficial for a teen’s restful sleep. Chris had finally put his foot down and said that if he was still wetting the bed like a toddler at 14, he would wear pull-ups like a toddler and that was that. And if he didn’t stop complaining, Cayden would get a spanking and they’d order some cloth nappies and plastic pants for him - something that Chris’ cousins had to wear for bedwetting when he was a child - arguing they’d be cheaper in the long-run than expensive DryNites. That shut-up Cayden, but triggered Lachlan into further ecstatic spasms of teasing - he’d google these dreaded babyish items and send them to Cayden via threatening SnapChats. He would manage to find all sorts of babyish versions made for adults to send to him and it made Cayden wonder who really wore all this stuff. Lachlan didn’t even get into trouble when Chris was teased at school about it. It got so bad, they had to move him to another school. Fortunately the stink of it didn’t follow him. While he lost the battle over his pull-ups, his mum did agree to some hypnosis which apparently had helped Chris give-up smoking. Not that Cayden stopped wetting for another two years, but he assumed it must have had an effect as his wet nights slowly reduced over time. The smaller spare room was eventually converted into a bedroom for Chris who had to keep his old single bed, while Lachlan as the older boy, upgraded to a double-bed and his own larger room. After his mum broke-up with Chris, they’d moved into a small apartment and things seemed to get better without Lachlan, even if he still sent the occasional SnapChat. Cayden didn’t have the guts to block him, lest he find another more public channel to humiliate him with. After Cayden finished High School with passable results, he bummed-around for a bit, playing games and riding to the beach. His mother demanded he get his license and get a job and start paying board because rent was getting really expensive. He countered that he was still trying to work-out what he wanted to do, and besides most kids these days had a gap year anyway. Not that he’d done much except playing games, swimming and having the occasional piss-up in the park with his mate Jack who would buy a box of cheap goon wine. He finally got his open license eventually - after failing once - of which his mother was very proud, until he fucked-up. In the meantime, she’d met Ross and they’d moved in, and while they weren’t paying rent anymore, the pressure had actually increased and they were once-again demanding Cayden grow-up and be like Noah. If only he could take the Pampered Prince down a peg or two and deflect some attention away from himself.

Microfiction (noun) A complete story told in 300 words or less. Multi-chapter novellas like Weekend in the Mechanical Nursery or Bella's New Punishment both started as 2,000 word shorts, and I wanted the chance to push myself to be more concise with microfiction. Follow along as I aim to tell complete and compelling stories of discipline, humiliation, and regression in less than 300 words. If you want to support my writing and get access to exclusive stories and works in progress, come and hang out with us on Ream. -------------------------------------------- She sat in her playpen in his office that normally smelled of mahogany and bourbon, but now carried the sweet, lingering scent of baby powder. Jess needed a change, but would need to wait on her friend Morgan for that. Mr. Franklin was old-fashioned and thought it improper to have an intimate connection with an employee. But he was into weird shit. That was undeniable. After the audit exposed her embezzlement, Jess tried to blackmail her boss with the weird diaper shit she found on his computer, but the older man surprised her with a proposal. That’s how Jess found herself doing office work in pull-ups and sucking on a pacifier. For weeks, they were pleased with the arrangement. Then both wanted more. For an extra $3,000, Jess agreed to ask permission before going to the potty and stand in the corner for any sub-par work. For $3,000 more, she stopped wearing pants altogether and occasionally had ‘accidents’ earning herself a few sad faces on her new potty-training chart. It was weird, but had effectively doubled her salary. Diapers were the next obvious step, but Jess struggled with diapering herself and recommended her friend for the new part-time assistant role. That role quickly grew to full-time nanny status until the blonde’s job description consisted only of filling diapers and looking cute, for which Jess had received a bonus in her latest performance review. Mr. Franklin looked at his pigtailed and pacified manager and she smiled and waved from her playpen. Today was Morgan’s quarterly evaluation and she was late. Again. Overhearing the woman’s financial troubles, Mr. Franklin wondered what it might be like to have two adorable playthings at his office and made a note to hire a contractor for the new office nursery and find a new assistant. -------------------------------------------- Get instant access to most of my stories with new exclusive chapters every week and at least three new stories each month on Ream.

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! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

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.

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…

Hello and happy new year to all. I was playing a bit with ChatGPT and let it write a story for me. It is completely written by the AI, with just a not so long prompt. But it got kind of big. I thought some people might enjoy the story. It has minor AI related inconsistencies, but I think it's still a good read. So just have fun! Edit: I let it write a kind of similar story, but still kind of different plot. I really don't know if anyone even cares for that stories, but I wanted another, so if anyone wants to read it, it's here. Since I don't want to take away the audience from real writers with real talents, I just added the second story here and didn't create a new topic. Meredith's Control Chapter One: A Curious Arrangement Leon tugged at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, standing on his tiptoes in front of the bathroom mirror, straining just to catch his reflection. His girlfriend, Meredith, was out in the living room, busily typing away at her laptop. She always had some major project at work: big team meetings, presentations for important clients, constant video conferences. Yet, she somehow always found time to keep a very close eye on him. He tried to flatten his hair, which always seemed to puff up on top of his head in a boyish swirl. At just around four feet seven inches tall, Leon had a slender, childlike build despite being eighteen years old. When Meredith—who stood at a majestic six foot one—first noticed him at a local coffee shop a few months ago, he was enamored by her confidence, her sultry laugh, and her commanding presence. Their relationship moved quickly. Too quickly for some. But for Leon, nothing could compare to the sense of protection and enthrallment he felt around her. In truth, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Meredith’s control over him stretched into the smallest corners of his day: from what he wore and how he styled his hair, to even how he used the bathroom. She managed every routine, every decision. While he sometimes complained, he also found himself secretly liking the structure. It made him feel cared for, oddly comforted. He felt guilty for resisting her, even when he found her rules embarrassing. Leon could hear the rattle of keys in the living room as Meredith shut her laptop. It was probably time to go through the day’s itinerary—a list she insisted on reviewing with him every morning. Leon sighed. He was still wearing pajamas because she had specifically told him not to get dressed by himself that day. Apparently, she had something “special” lined up for him. Slinking out of the bathroom, he walked into the living room, noticing how the top of his head barely reached the bottom of Meredith’s chest. She looked up at him, one eyebrow arched. “You’re late,” she stated in a clipped tone, tapping the face of her silver watch. “I was just—” he began, but her expression silenced him. “I already told you: no excuses. Today is a busy day for me, and I can’t have you making us run behind. Now come here.” She patted the seat of the couch next to her. Her voice carried such authority that he instantly felt a pang of guilt. He obeyed, sitting down. His tiny form sank into the cushion, emphasizing how small he was compared to her. Gently, she rested a large hand on his thigh, letting him know she wasn’t angry—just strict. Their eyes met, and there was a softness beneath her stern facade. “I have to go to the office for some time, but I’ll be back before dinner,” she said. “In the meantime, you’ll stay here. I’ve laid out clothes for you in the bedroom. You’re not to leave the apartment until I get back. Is that clear?” Leon nodded. “Yes, Meredith.” He could feel an odd mix of relief and apprehension. She was going out, but his instructions were so rigid. It felt a little lonely, spending hours in the apartment by himself with such restrictions—especially since he needed permission for almost everything. “Also…” She paused, studying his face. “Have you gone potty yet this morning?” Leon’s cheeks flushed. That question was always mortifying, though he had grown somewhat used to it. Meredith demanded to know about every trip to the bathroom. “Yes,” he mumbled, “right when I woke up.” “Good.” She turned back to her phone, tapping at some notifications. “Remember: no more breaks until lunchtime. If you have to go, wait for me to come home. I don’t want to find out you disobeyed me.” Her instructions were specific and strict. He’d been told only to use the bathroom at set times, always with her permission. Yesterday, he nearly had an accident holding it until she got back from a grocery run. As embarrassing as it felt to beg for the toilet, it was even more humiliating to lose control. But Meredith liked it that way—and, if he was honest, a small part of him thrilled at the notion of surrender. “All right,” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper. Meredith patted his thigh one last time before she stood up, towering over him. She bent slightly, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Be good. Don’t get into trouble.” Leon felt goosebumps on his arms. “I promise I’ll be good.” She flashed him a knowing grin, then picked up her handbag and left, locking the door behind her with a decisive click. Leon stared at the door for several moments. The apartment, though cozy, suddenly felt huge without her presence. His instructions were clear: get dressed in the clothes she chose, don’t leave the apartment, and most importantly—no bathroom breaks until lunch, when she planned to return. He exhaled. This was his life now. Part of him wanted to rebel, to say that enough was enough. But part of him loved her so much that he convinced himself he needed this, needed her. And so, with a subdued swirl of excitement and anxiety, Leon walked to the bedroom to see what she had laid out for him. Chapter Two: A Childish Wardrobe When Leon opened the bedroom door, his cheeks immediately reddened. Spread across the bed was an outfit he would have never chosen for himself: a pair of powder-blue shortalls, complete with little silver snaps running down the sides, and a plain white t-shirt to go underneath. Next to it lay ankle socks with tiny cartoon puppies stitched into the cuffs. At the foot of the bed sat bright white Velcro sneakers—another childlike touch. He inhaled a shaky breath. This was far from the most juvenile outfit Meredith had ever selected, but it still made him feel about ten years old rather than eighteen. Even if he wanted to choose something else, he knew he was not allowed. From the first week he moved in, Meredith had insisted on taking over all dressing responsibilities, often physically clothing him herself. This morning, however, she’d made an exception by laying out the outfit in advance—probably because she was in a hurry. Leon glanced at the time on his phone: 8:42 AM. He had a while before lunch, and already he could feel an uncomfortable tightness in his bladder. He’d used the bathroom upon waking up, but the morning coffee he’d had earlier was catching up to him. He swallowed hard. Meredith had said no more potty visits until she came back at noon. He tried to ignore the discomfort, telling himself she’d only be gone a few hours. With a resigned sigh, he plucked the T-shirt off the bed. He peeled off his pajama top, then slipped the T-shirt on. Finally, he lifted the shortalls and stepped into them, struggling to pull the straps over his shoulders until he heard the tiny snaps click. They fit snugly, cupping his narrow hips and accentuating how slender he was. The Velcro shoes went on last. He looked at himself in the standing mirror and cringed. The shortalls ended high on his thighs, making him look about as intimidating as a toddler. He could feel his heart pounding as he went back into the living room, half-expecting someone to be standing there laughing at him. But of course, the apartment was empty. He sank down on the sofa, turning on the TV. Maybe he could distract himself with some cartoons or a movie. He was too nervous to watch the news or a serious program. Subconsciously, he gravitated toward more childish things—something that matched how Meredith dressed him. He flicked through streaming channels until he found an old animated movie from his childhood. While it played, his mind kept drifting to the subtle pressure below his abdomen. It had been only a few weeks of abiding by her “no bathroom without permission” rule, but it was long enough that his body felt confused, uncertain when relief was actually allowed. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The anxiety made him want to push the feeling away, yet focusing on it seemed inevitable. Time ticked by painfully slowly: 9:00… 9:15… 9:30… By 10:00, Leon was shifting in his seat, crossing his legs, and trying to stay calm. He was determined not to break the rules—he never wanted to face Meredith’s anger or disappointment. But if she didn’t come home in time… He shook his head. She said noon. You can hold it until noon, he told himself. He’d done it before. He’d do it again. Memories of the last time he disobeyed raced through his mind. About a week ago, she’d caught him sneaking off to the bathroom while she was out. He was wearing a childish onesie she had chosen, and the second she returned, he’d practically run past her toward the toilet. She noticed the onesie was unbuttoned. He’d undone it on his own. She was upset, not screaming or raging, but cold and disappointed. That, to him, was worse than any punishment. So he’d do what she wanted: hold it. By 11:15, he was practically shaking. He paced around the living room, turning the TV off because he couldn’t focus. The pressure was building painfully, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last. Finally, at 11:45, he heard the jangle of keys outside the door. Meredith stepped in, the faint smell of crisp autumn air swirling around her. She closed the door, set her purse down, and immediately looked at him with curiosity. “Hello, sweetie. How was your morning?” Leon let out a trembling breath. “It’s been okay. I… I’m glad you’re home.” She slipped off her jacket, revealing a form-fitting blouse and a knee-length skirt. She looked immaculate, her tall silhouette making him feel ridiculously small. “Did you follow the rules?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Leon nodded vigorously. “Yes. I haven’t gone to the bathroom since you left, and—Meredith, please, can I—?” She shrugged, setting her handbag on the counter. “Let me think about it.” A slow, playful grin slid across her face. Leon felt heat rise to his cheeks. He crossed his legs again, pressing them together. “Please,” he repeated, bouncing slightly in place. “Come with me to the bathroom,” she said quietly. He exhaled in relief and trailed behind her. The moment they reached the bathroom door, she turned around, blocking his entrance with an arm. “You waited, right?” “Yes,” he rasped. “Good boy.” She unfastened the shortall straps and helped him wriggle out of the garment, leaving him standing there in just his T-shirt, socks, and shoes. “All right, you may go.” She gave him a light nudge inside, standing in the doorway as if monitoring him. Usually, she supervised his toilet visits to make sure he wasn’t disobeying any hidden rules. He quickly tried to focus, lifting the seat and finally letting go. Relief flooded him, but his cheeks were bright red knowing she was right there, watching. Yet this was their arrangement—something he had grown used to, in his own shy way. When he finished, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper of relief. Meredith smiled, nodding with approval. “You did well. I see no accidents,” she remarked, scanning the front of his T-shirt. Leon’s heart still pounded with the aftershock of nearly losing control. “No,” he managed to say. “No accidents.” “Good,” she repeated, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m proud of you for holding it in.” His insides fluttered at the praise. He always craved her approval. Despite the embarrassment, the rules, the slight fear, there was a warm satisfaction that came from pleasing her. “Come on,” she said, leading him out of the bathroom. “Time for lunch. Then we’ll talk about the rest of the day.” Chapter Three: The Strict Afternoon After lunch—sandwiches she prepared while he stood on a stool at the counter, helping slice tomatoes—Meredith announced she’d be working from home the remainder of the day. She had a stack of documents to handle. Leon hovered in the kitchen, uncertain what she expected of him next. She noticed his anxious glance and beckoned him closer. “It’s going to be a long work session. I need to focus,” she said. “I’ll be in the study. You can watch TV or do something quiet in the living room. But no phone calls and no computer games without permission.” Leon nodded, fiddling with the hem of his shortalls. “Okay,” he murmured. “Do I have to do anything… else?” She tilted her head. “You mean chores?” He shrugged. “Chores, or errands, or something.” “I think you can handle cleaning your room,” she said. “I’ll inspect it later. And you are to ask me if you need to use the potty, understood?” He swallowed. “Yes, Meredith.” “All right. Off you go. And remember, I’ll be checking on you.” With that, she swept away into the study, closing the door behind her. Leon glanced at the clock: 12:40 PM. The next scheduled bathroom break was usually around mid-afternoon—unless he asked for special permission, which she sometimes granted, sometimes didn’t. He made his way to the bedroom to tidy up the bedclothes. After that, he dusted and vacuumed a little, determined to impress her by staying productive. As the minutes passed, he periodically glanced at the closed study door, tempted to peek his head in and see if she wanted coffee or something. But he dreaded disturbing her. She hated interruptions when she was concentrating. Eventually, Leon returned to the living room and flopped onto the couch. The cartoon from earlier was still paused. He pressed play, letting the colorful images fill the screen. But he found it hard to relax. There was a growing sense of tension, deep down in his bladder again. Maybe that second glass of water at lunch was a bad idea. He tried to focus on the cartoon’s cheerful scenes—singing characters, bright backdrops, comedic moments. Time crawled: 1:00… 1:15… 1:30… By 2:00, the pressure was noticeable. Leon bit his lip, glancing at the study door again. Should he ask? Meredith might see it as a sign of weakness or defiance if he kept interrupting her schedule. But the alternative was risking an accident. He rummaged through the coffee table’s drawers to distract himself, coming across old board games and puzzle books. He found a half-completed crossword puzzle from weeks ago, the squares filled in by Meredith’s neat penmanship. He sighed, trying to pass the time, but the throbbing need in his abdomen kept gnawing at his thoughts. Finally, at 2:15, he couldn’t take it anymore. He padded softly over to the study door, raising his fist to knock. He hesitated, heart pounding. She was probably on a call. But if he waited any longer, something worse could happen. Summoning courage, he gave a gentle knock. “Who is it?” came her curt voice. “It’s me,” Leon answered timidly. “I… um… I need to ask you something.” “Come in.” He eased the door open. Meredith sat behind a large wooden desk, papers scattered around a laptop. She looked up, removing her glasses. “Yes?” “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in a low whisper, “but I really need to use the restroom.” Her lips formed a thin line. “Is it that urgent?” Leon shifted on his feet, nodding. “Kind of. I’ve been trying to hold it for a while.” Meredith let out a slow exhale, then glanced at the clock on her computer. “We were going to do that at three o’clock. But you are asking nicely…” He clasped his hands in front of him, trying to stand as still as possible. “Please, Meredith?” She pondered for a moment. “All right. But I’m going to watch, to make sure everything’s done properly. And no fussing.” His eyes widened, but he quickly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Standing up from her chair, she followed him to the bathroom. This time, she didn’t bother to unfasten his shortalls. Instead, she did it for him, as always—though with an air of slight annoyance. “Arms up,” she said, guiding the straps down. Leon turned away from her, aiming to close the door, but she stepped inside too. She always came in with him, but this time the closeness felt more imposing. “Hurry up,” she commanded. Leon’s face was practically on fire with embarrassment, but the need to relieve himself overcame his self-consciousness. He managed to get everything positioned and released. A soft gasp of relief escaped his lips. Meredith observed him carefully. When he was done, she helped him secure his shortalls back into place, snapping the straps. Then she turned on the sink faucet and waited while he washed his hands under her watchful gaze. “I won’t always let you do this,” she said softly. “I have rules for a reason. It’s important you learn how to follow them.” Leon nodded, shoulders slumping. He felt like a child receiving a reprimand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just really couldn’t wait.” She gently ruffled his hair. “Shh. It’s all right. Let’s get you back to your day.” And just like that, she returned to her study, leaving him alone in the hallway with the odd, lingering mix of relief and lingering shame. Chapter Four: Footed Sleeper Evenings Late afternoon arrived without further incident. Leon busied himself around the apartment, occasionally hearing Meredith’s voice from the study. She sounded professional and confident, reminding him of just how impressive she was in her career—and, in turn, how small he felt next to her in every regard. By the time 6:30 PM rolled around, Meredith emerged from the study, stretching her arms overhead. Her sharp gaze swept over the living room and kitchen. “Looks clean,” she commented, nodding at Leon. “Good job.” He felt a small glow of pride at her words. “Thanks,” he said. “Did you finish everything?” “Mostly,” she replied with a sigh. “I still have a bit more to do after dinner. How about you start setting the table while I check something in the bedroom?” Leon hopped up to obey, walking to the kitchen cabinets to gather plates and cutlery. He arranged them neatly, making sure everything was symmetrical—knowing she appreciated order. He placed two glasses and a set of napkins in perfect alignment, then set out the salt and pepper. Satisfied, he stepped back to admire his work. He glanced toward the bedroom, wondering what Meredith was up to. She was probably laying out his pajamas. That’s how every evening went: after dinner, she would dress him in some form of childlike sleepwear—often footed sleepers, sometimes with childish prints. If he was especially fidgety or whiny, she’d zip it in the back, removing his ability to unzip it himself. Some nights, she put on mittens, ensuring he couldn’t fiddle with the zipper. Part of him squirmed at the thought, but another part thrummed with excitement. Despite the occasional embarrassment, he found a peculiar comfort in the ritual of being tucked into bed by her. He relished the warmth of her presence, the bubble of security she created around him. She emerged a few minutes later, a sly smile on her face. “Dinner time,” she announced. “Let’s eat.” Dinner consisted of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and a small portion of rice. Leon ate quietly, occasionally meeting Meredith’s eyes. She asked him about his day, praising him for keeping busy without fussing too much. He felt an uptick of pride at her approval. However, halfway through the meal, she cleared her throat. “I noticed something when I laid out your sleeper,” she began, fixing him with a steady look. “Some of your underwear had faint stains. Care to explain?” Leon nearly choked on his chicken. He stared at her, face burning. “I… I—It’s just… from earlier,” he stammered. “I was holding it for so long, I guess maybe I leaked a little?” She narrowed her eyes. “So you had a little accident?” He stared at his plate, nodding miserably. “Y-yes, but just a tiny bit, I swear.” Meredith set her fork down. “Hmm. That’s unfortunate. After all the trust I gave you to wait until lunch, then again this afternoon. You said you managed, but apparently, you leaked enough to stain your underwear.” Leon gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. It wasn’t a full accident. Just a little leak.” “Regardless,” she said, her voice cool, “it shows you’re not fully in control.” His eyes pricked with tears. “Please don’t be mad.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not angry, Leon. But I’m disappointed that you’re struggling with such a simple rule. If waiting is causing you accidents, perhaps we need a more secure solution.” Her words sent a chill through him. “Wh-what do you mean?” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Let’s finish dinner, and we’ll discuss it when we get you ready for bed.” Leon nodded, his appetite diminishing. He forced the rest of his vegetables down in silence, mind spinning with worry and humiliation. He had a feeling he knew what she meant by a ‘more secure solution.’ Chapter Five: An Unexpected Development After dinner, Meredith tasked Leon with loading the dishwasher. He did so mechanically, hands slightly shaking. He couldn’t stop thinking about her cryptic mention of a “secure solution.” Could she mean what he thought she did? She disappeared back into the bedroom. By the time he finished in the kitchen, she called his name. “Leon,” she said, standing in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed. “Come here.” He approached hesitantly, heart hammering. She guided him inside, where the lamp on the nightstand cast a warm glow across the bed. Laid out on the duvet was a footed sleeper, a soft pastel-green color with a subtle pattern of tiny stars. Its zipper ran up the front, but a small padlock mechanism was threaded through the zipper pull. Next to it on the bed was a folded, puffy item. Leon’s stomach dropped. It was a diaper—a large, adult-sized diaper with cartoonish designs across the padding. He stared, speechless. His mind reeled. Sure, Meredith had teased about diapers before, mostly in a half-joking manner when he slipped up or whined too much. But he never thought she’d actually follow through. They were both adults, after all. Even if she treated him as if he were younger, diapers still felt like an extreme step. “I… I…” he started, but no words came out. Meredith cocked her head, her tall frame radiating authority. “These are for nights when you can’t maintain control,” she said calmly. “You’ve proven that you sometimes have accidents while trying to follow the rules. I don’t want you ruining your underwear or the sheets.” Leon’s face burned. “B-but… I—” She held up a hand. “Shh. We’re trying this tonight. Hopefully, it will teach you to be more mindful of your potty breaks when they’re scheduled. If you truly have no accidents, maybe we won’t need these. But for now…” She motioned to the diaper. “Take off your clothes.” He hesitated, a thick lump in his throat, but he knew better than to argue. He undid the shortalls and let them pool at his feet, then peeled off the T-shirt. Meredith patted the bed. “Lie down,” she instructed. Trying not to cry from humiliation, Leon sank onto the mattress, his small frame dwarfed by the plush bed. Meredith picked up the diaper, opening it with a loud crinkle. She maneuvered it under him, adjusting it carefully, then folded it up between his legs. The padding was thick, soft, and unmistakably babyish. Velcro tapes fastened at the sides. She smoothed the tapes, making sure it was snug around his waist. Leon swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. The sensation of the diaper hugging his lower half was strange and overwhelming. The thick bulk between his legs forced them apart slightly. Meredith leaned over him, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. “Don’t be upset,” she cooed. “It’s just for your protection, and for my peace of mind. You might even find it comforting.” He shut his eyes, nodding wordlessly. Next, she guided his feet into the footed sleeper, pulling it up his body. Once his arms were inside, she zipped it up, locking the zipper with a small padlock near the neck. There would be no unzipping this without her key. Leon shivered, suddenly aware he was completely at her mercy. He could feel the diaper pressing against him, a constant reminder of his humiliation. Yet a small, secret part of him felt a twinge of guilty relief. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about leaking if he had to hold it too long… Meredith helped him off the bed, turning him to face the dresser mirror. “Look at that,” she said softly. “It fits you well, doesn’t it?” He caught a glimpse of himself: a short, slender young man clad in a pastel sleeper, locked, and obviously padded. It was juvenile, babyish, and undeniably humiliating. And yet, he felt a warmth coil in his chest, an odd sense of safety. Meredith leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on top of his head. “All set. Now, it’s still early, so you can stay up with me in the living room if you want to watch TV. But I don’t want you messing with that diaper. Understood?” Leon gulped. “Yes, Meredith,” he whispered. With that, she took his hand, leading him out to the living room, where they sat on the couch together. She switched on a TV show, sliding an arm around his shoulders. He rested his cheek against her side, feeling the crinkle of the diaper whenever he shifted. Her warmth enveloped him. Embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t deny the closeness and the comfort he felt pressed against her. They watched quietly for a while, the only sounds being occasional dialogue from the show and the subtle rustle of Leon’s diaper when he moved. Though she was being strict, Meredith also exuded a gentle tenderness. She smoothed her hand over his hair, letting him relax against her. He wondered if this was how children felt when nestled against a mother’s side—but no, that thought was too strange. He was an adult, even if everything about this arrangement suggested otherwise. After an hour or so, she clicked off the TV. “You’re probably tired. Let’s get you in bed.” Leon’s eyes fluttered. “Okay.” She led him back to the bedroom, helping him climb under the covers. The diaper’s thickness made him waddle slightly, but she made no mention of it. Once he was tucked in, she leaned down to give him a soft kiss goodnight. “Sleep well, little one,” she murmured, stroking his cheek. Leon felt a pang in his chest. Despite the embarrassment, he sensed an overpowering love for her. She had so much control, but also so much care. He closed his eyes, nodding. “Goodnight, Meredith,” he whispered. She switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The faint sound of her footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, leaving him alone with the soft rustle of his own humiliating bedtime attire. Yet despite everything, he drifted off feeling oddly comforted. Chapter Six: A Morning of Conflicting Emotions Leon awoke the next morning, squinting at the streams of daylight creeping in through the blinds. He tried to stretch, but the footed sleeper resisted his movement. The padlock at the collar was still firmly in place. Immediately, he became aware of the thick diaper around his waist. His heart pounded as he recalled last night’s humiliating bedtime routine. He shifted, feeling a slight warmth in the diaper’s padding. Dread stabbed at his chest. Had he wet himself in his sleep? He pressed his thighs together, and sure enough, the diaper felt heavier and damp. A wave of shame washed over him. He couldn’t remember when it happened. He had dozed off so deeply he never even woke up to use the bathroom. A swirl of conflicting emotions rose inside him: embarrassment, confusion, and, strangely, relief. At least the bed was dry. He heard footsteps approaching. In a moment, Meredith appeared, her tall frame filling the doorway. She smiled softly. “Good morning,” she greeted. “Sleep well?” Leon stammered, unsure how to respond. “I—I guess so.” Her gaze fell to his padded midsection. “Did you stay dry?” she asked, though the faint smirk suggested she already suspected the answer. He glanced away, cheeks aflame. “No,” he muttered. “I… had an accident.” Meredith strode over, unlocking the small padlock at his neckline with a tiny key. She slowly pulled the zipper down, revealing the sagging diaper. She pressed the padding gently, confirming it was indeed wet. Leon squirmed, face contorting with humiliation. “Well,” she said at last, “this just proves my point. You need diapers for bedtime until further notice.” Leon’s eyes stung with tears. He hated feeling so incompetent, but found himself nodding obediently. “Yes, Meredith.” “Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said. She helped him out of the sleeper, rolling it aside to wash later. Then, carefully, she removed the diaper. The cool morning air brushed his skin. She took a pack of wipes from a shelf in the closet—he hadn’t noticed them before—and began gently cleaning him. He winced at the profound vulnerability of it all, but she was methodical and calm, as though caring for a dependent child. When she finished, she gave his hip a reassuring pat. “Now, go shower. I’ll find you some fresh clothes.” Leon didn’t need any more prompting. He hurried to the bathroom, stepping into the warm shower spray. As he scrubbed away the night’s shame, he let out a trembling sigh. Part of him felt humiliated beyond words, but another part felt a surprising sense of freedom in not having to worry about whether he wet the bed or not—Meredith took care of everything. Chapter Seven: Trying to Please Her After the shower, Leon found another childish outfit waiting on the bed: a bright red T-shirt with a cartoon lion on the front, and a pair of elastic-waist shorts that threatened to show the outline of any padded undergarment if he wore them. However, Meredith had not placed a diaper beside them this time. It seemed he was expected to manage on his own during the day—at least for now. He dressed quickly, then padded into the living room where Meredith was sipping coffee. She motioned for him to sit. “I’m going into the office again,” she announced. “I have some errands afterward, so I won’t be back until early evening. Think you can handle it?” Leon nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes flickered toward his shorts. “No diapers right now, but you’re still required to ask permission for the potty, remember?” A knot formed in his stomach. “B-but… you won’t be here,” he said. “How am I supposed to ask for permission?” “You’ll text me first,” Meredith said, as if it were the most obvious solution. “Wait for my response. If I approve, you can use the bathroom. Understood?” Leon swallowed hard. “Yes.” She arched an eyebrow. “I mean it. If I find out you disobeyed, or if there’s any sign of accidents again, you’ll be wearing a diaper all day tomorrow as well. Clear?” A flush crept over his face. “Clear,” he replied softly. Meredith nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, I have to go. You have your instructions.” She kissed his forehead, grabbed her handbag, and left. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Leon alone with his swirling thoughts once more. It was nearly 9 AM. He had to figure out how to keep himself occupied all day without leaving the apartment, and with the added stress of obtaining permission to use the bathroom via text message. He eyed the clock nervously. Typically, she gave him scheduled breaks: morning, midday, afternoon, evening. But now the dynamic was different—he had to ask every single time. Leon sighed, trying to calm the flutter in his belly. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself, rummaging around the kitchen for a small breakfast. He settled on cereal, though he couldn’t help but measure how much milk and juice he poured, terrified of needing to go too soon. Chapter Eight: Accidents, Consequences, and Confessions By lunchtime, Leon’s nerves were already shot. He’d texted Meredith around 11, asking if he could go to the bathroom. She replied after ten agonizing minutes of waiting, finally granting permission. He managed to avoid an accident that time. But around 1 PM, as he sat quietly in the living room reading a book, he felt another urge. He checked the time. Meredith had mentioned she’d be in an important meeting from 1 to 2 PM, so he hesitated. If she was in the meeting, she might not respond to texts promptly. Should he send her a message anyway and risk bothering her? Or should he hold it, hoping she’d be free soon? Eventually, he sent her a short text: “Hi, Meredith. May I please use the bathroom?” The minutes passed. No response. The minutes turned to a half-hour. Leon began to pace, sipping his water nervously, which only made things worse. By 1:40, he was practically dancing in place, pressing his thighs together. Still nothing. He sent another, more urgent text: “Please, Meredith. It’s an emergency.” At 1:50, he still hadn’t heard from her. His bladder burned, and tears pricked his eyes. He wanted desperately to follow her rule, but he was about to burst. Could he risk it? Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he used the bathroom since it was an actual emergency. But she had been so explicit. Disobeying meant guaranteed diapers the next day. Could he endure that shame again? He fidgeted, leaning against the wall, clenching every muscle he could. The world around him seemed to blur in a haze of desperation. 1:55… Leon couldn’t hold it. With a choked sob, he felt warmth flood his shorts. The liquid trickled down his legs, pooling on the floor. He froze, horrified. His cheeks burned with shame as he stood there in a puddle. He’d truly wet himself in the living room, at eighteen years old. Trembling, he grabbed paper towels, trying to mop up the evidence of his accident. He peeled off his sodden shorts and underwear, tossing them into the washing machine, desperately hoping to hide the mess before Meredith returned. But he couldn’t deny what had happened. He had broken the rule—except he hadn’t, had he? He’d tried to get permission, but she never responded. At 2:05, his phone buzzed. Meredith’s text appeared: “Yes, you can go now. Sorry for the delay.” Leon nearly burst into tears. It was too late. Chapter Nine: Love and Control Meredith arrived home around 5 PM. Leon was perched anxiously on the couch in a fresh pair of shorts, heart hammering. The moment she entered, he felt tears pricking his eyes. He needed to confess before she discovered the evidence. She set her purse down and fixed him with an expectant stare. “Well, did everything go smoothly?” Leon stood, hands shaking. “I—I tried. I texted you. Twice,” he said. “You didn’t respond until it was too late.” His voice trembled with shame. “I had an accident.” She pressed her lips together. “Where?” “In the living room,” he muttered, glancing down. “I cleaned it up right away. I’m sorry.” Meredith rubbed her temple. “Leon,” she began in a weary tone, “I gave you one simple rule. Did you try waiting or…?” He shook his head. “I did wait. I tried to hold it until you responded. But then I—I couldn’t anymore.” She sighed, stepping closer to him. He braced himself for anger, but instead, she pulled him into a loose embrace. He smelled the faint perfume in her hair. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Accidents happen when you’re forced to wait like that.” Leon buried his face against her, tears wetting her blouse. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” Meredith patted his back. “I know you tried. This arrangement might be too strict for your body to handle. Maybe I pushed you too far.” He blinked, pulling back, confused. “You… you think so?” She nodded, cupping his cheek. “Leon, I want to take care of you. I love you. But if these rules cause you distress and accidents, maybe we need to adjust them.” Leon stared up at her, feeling both relief and a pang of disappointment. As restrictive as the rules were, a part of him craved her control. “I… I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered. She kissed his forehead. “My sweet boy, you could never truly disappoint me if you’re honest with me. Let’s find a way that keeps you comfortable without accidents, all right?” He nodded, eyes stinging. “Yes, Meredith.” She smoothed down his hair. “That said, the diapers at night will continue. It’s clear you’re still having trouble staying dry. And maybe we’ll have you wear them during the day if you’re feeling uncertain. No more holding it to the point of accidents. Agreed?” A complicated mix of dread and comfort flooded him. “Agreed,” he said softly. That evening, after a light dinner and some shared relaxation time on the couch, Meredith once more led him to the bedroom. She had prepared another diaper and the familiar pastel-green sleeper, complete with the back-zip design. This time, he didn’t resist. He let her tape the diaper around his waist, welcoming the soft, bulky security. He noticed that she had sewn a small loop at the back of the sleeper’s collar, likely where she’d attach the padlock or a similar clasp. She pulled it up his body, sealing him in. Leon sighed as she locked him into the sleeper. Oddly enough, he felt relief. There would be no more frantic dashes or accidents; if it happened, at least he was protected. He laid down on the bed, exhaling the tension of the day. “Tomorrow, we can talk more about your potty schedule,” Meredith said, brushing a hand through his hair. “I still want you to ask permission, but we’ll give you a diaper if I’m away. That way, you won’t have to worry.” Leon looked up at her, a small smile ghosting his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. She returned the smile, bending low to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you, little one.” Tears threatened to surface again, but they were tears of gratitude this time. “I love you too,” he choked out. Settling down under the covers, he listened to the calming sound of her breathing as she tucked him in. Despite the infantile attire, or perhaps because of it, a sense of safety blossomed in his chest. Meredith was demanding, controlling, and sometimes completely over the top—but she was also caring, nurturing, and, above all, his. Chapter Ten: Renewed Determination Despite the tension and embarrassment of Leon’s accident in Chapter Nine, the next morning dawned with a surprising sense of calm in the apartment. The living room was bathed in golden light as Leon padded out from the bedroom, diaper rustling softly beneath the pastel-green footed sleeper. He still wore the back-zip pajamas because Meredith—early to rise and already dressed in slacks and a blouse—wanted to supervise his morning routine. “Good morning,” she greeted, looking up from her laptop on the couch. “Sleep okay?” Leon nodded, cheeks flushing with the familiar bashfulness that came from being locked into his sleeper all night. “Yes,” he murmured, eyes drifting to the floor. “Thank you.” Meredith patted the cushion beside her, beckoning him to sit. The couch dipped under her weight as she scooted closer, one arm resting comfortably over his shoulders. “Let’s see how you did,” she said, reaching for the small lock at his collar. Her tone was neither cruel nor mocking—it was simply matter-of-fact, the caring severity of someone who expected to find a wet diaper. She withdrew the key from her pocket and unlocked the tab securing the zipper. The faint click sent a tremor of apprehension through Leon. Gently, she pulled the zipper down, revealing the thick, slightly damp diaper around his waist. A sigh escaped her lips—part relief, part acknowledgment. “Not too bad,” she said. “Still wet, but not soaked.” Leon rubbed his arms, noticing goosebumps from the morning chill. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically. She shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize every time. We’ve talked about this. Diapers are here to help until you learn to manage. And if you can’t, well… that’s okay too. We’ll make sure you’re protected.” A swirl of conflicting emotion swept through him. He both hated and secretly welcomed the security of her strict care. Even if it made him feel smaller, something about her unwavering control comforted him. “All right,” Meredith said, gently pressing her warm palm against his upper back. “Let’s get you changed and dressed. We have errands today.” Leon exhaled a soft sigh of resignation. There was never any real choice in the matter—only the understanding that, under her guidance, he would be taken care of. She walked him to the bedroom, where a fresh diaper and a modest outfit lay waiting on the neatly made bed. This time, he noticed the diapers were in the open, lined up on a shelf—obviously a new normal. “You’ll wear this for the day,” she said, tapping the folded padding. “I have a busy schedule, and I can’t always answer your texts immediately. So, no accidents in your shorts this time.” Leon’s face burned with a mixture of shame and relief. “Yes, Meredith,” he murmured obediently. She set about changing him, wiping him down before securing the tapes snug around his hips. With practiced ease, she helped him step into a pair of casual khaki shorts and a short-sleeve polo that—thankfully—didn’t look too childish. However, as soon as he stood up, the outline of the diaper was unmistakable beneath the fabric, giving him a slight waddle. He fidgeted, unsure how to hide it. Meredith tilted his chin up with her finger. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “You’re under my protection. I won’t let anyone see more than necessary. Now, get your shoes on. We’re heading out soon.” Leon swallowed hard, nodding. A renewed determination to trust her—and to obey her strict potty rules—settled in his chest. If wearing a diaper in public was the price to avoid accidents, he would accept it. After all, he loved her. And in his own private way, he loved this nurturing dominance she provided. Chapter Eleven: An Outing of Discomfort Meredith parked the car outside a bustling shopping center, sunlight glinting off the polished vehicles in the lot. Leon sat in the passenger seat, heart thumping. He hadn’t been outside in a diaper often—usually, Meredith arranged short, discreet errands or handled them alone. Yet here they were, preparing for a full afternoon of shopping. He was diapered under his khaki shorts, his every movement producing a barely audible crinkle. Fear gnawed at him. What if someone heard? What if someone noticed the slight bulge? Meredith unfastened her seatbelt, turning toward him. “Ready?” Leon’s fingers twisted in his lap. “I—yes,” he said, voice trembling. “But—do I really have to wear this in public?” A trace of amusement danced across Meredith’s features, but she tempered it with understanding. “Yes, Leon. You know the rules. You’ve had accidents, and I can’t keep leaving you alone in the apartment every time I need to run errands. This is safer.” His cheeks burned a deep crimson. “I—I understand,” he managed. She offered a small, reassuring smile before exiting the car. Reluctantly, Leon followed, stepping onto the asphalt. The sensation of the diaper’s padding made his walk slightly bow-legged. He glanced around nervously, certain everyone would see. But the world carried on, no one giving him more than a passing glance. It was a busy weekend afternoon: couples strolling hand in hand, parents corralling rambunctious kids, elderly folks lugging grocery bags. No one seemed to notice the shy, diminutive eighteen-year-old waddling after his tall girlfriend. Meredith led him through a few stores, picking up home essentials and groceries. She maintained a calm composure, instructing him softly if she wanted help grabbing an item. Occasionally, she’d slip her arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the crowd. Despite the unwavering sense of embarrassment, Leon felt a protective warmth emanating from her touch. Midway through their errands, as they stopped at a store to browse kitchen utensils, Leon’s eyes widened. The dull pressure in his bladder reminded him of an awkward truth: if he needed to use the bathroom, he had to ask Meredith. And given their conversation, he suspected she might make him use the diaper instead—especially in a public restroom scenario where it might be less private. Swallowing hard, he tugged lightly at her sleeve. “Meredith?” he whispered. She was examining a set of ceramic bowls but turned at his soft plea. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” “I… I have to go,” he admitted, cheeks blazing. “Number one.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Hmm. Well, we could go to the bathroom. But then I’d have to help you remove everything.” Her tone was sympathetic yet firm. “It might be easier if you just let your diaper handle it. That’s what it’s for.” Leon felt a knot twist in his stomach. Wet himself on purpose, in a public store? The thought horrified him. But she was right—unfastening and refastening a taped diaper in a public restroom stall seemed equally daunting. “Let’s finish shopping,” she said in a low voice. “If it’s urgent, use your diaper. Then I’ll change you when we get home.” Leon’s entire face felt aflame. But he couldn’t argue; she was in charge. He stayed close to her side, trying to will his bladder to remain calm. Yet within minutes, the urge intensified. Eventually, he yielded, letting go in subtle spurts, feeling warmth spread through the padding. His heart thumped—he was wetting himself in the middle of a store, next to his girlfriend. It was humiliating and strangely intimate. By the time they checked out and returned to the car, the diaper clung heavily to his skin. Meredith noticed the slight sag, her expression shifting to one of tender concern. “You okay?” she asked, voice gentle. He nodded, too humiliated to speak. As they climbed back into the car, he squirmed against the seat, the wet diaper pressing against him. Meredith placed a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezed. It was a reminder that she was proud of him for following the rules—odd though those rules might be. They drove home in silence, tension coiling in his chest. Yet beneath it all, a flutter of relief swirled: he had obeyed her. He had done what she said, and there was a strange sense of accomplishment in that submission. Maybe he was just relieved to know she’d soon change him, freeing him from the clammy discomfort. Leon stared out the window, cheeks still burning, as he braced himself for the next step: reporting his soggy diaper to Meredith like a dependent child. And, in a bittersweet twist, he realized that he no longer felt quite as anxious about it—because he trusted her. Chapter Twelve: Adjusting and Accepting When they arrived home, Meredith wasted no time ushering Leon to the bedroom. He felt her warm hand pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, guiding him inside. The memory of his wet diaper burned in his mind, a tangible reminder of how little control he was supposed to have. “Let’s get you changed,” she said, her voice low and calm, almost comforting. Leon perched on the edge of the bed, arms folded uncertainly. Meredith stepped into the closet, retrieving a pack of wipes and another diaper from the growing stash. The plastic packaging crinkled loudly as she pulled one out. He lifted his hips obediently, allowing her to peel down his shorts. A wave of cool air brushed his thighs, intensifying the humiliating awareness of the heavy, sagging diaper around his waist. Her expression remained calm—patient, even—like a caretaker simply doing what had to be done. “You did well,” she murmured as she undid the tapes. “I know it must have been scary.” Leon swallowed, cheeks reddening. “It was,” he admitted softly. “I… I don’t like doing that in public. But… if it’s what you want—” She set the soaked diaper aside, using a gentle wipe to clean him. “It’s not about what I want,” she corrected him, though her tone hinted otherwise. “It’s about what works for us. You’re prone to accidents. I don’t want you stressed or embarrassed about sneaking off to the bathroom. A diaper solves that.” He nodded, though a twinge of confusion fluttered in his stomach. Part of him wondered if he was truly that helpless, or if her controlling nature had simply convinced him so. Yet her nurturing presence soothed away his doubts. Feeling the soft, fresh diaper taped securely around his waist brought a wave of both shame and relief. Once she finished, she handed him a pair of comfortable sweatpants. “Wear these for the rest of the day,” she said, then paused, meeting his gaze. “Leon, if you need to use the bathroom and I’m around, I’ll help you remove everything. But if you’re alone, you should use your diaper, okay? No more accidents on the floor or in your underwear.” A small nod was all he could manage. “Yes, Meredith.” Her eyes seemed to soften. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re doing great. I’m proud of how cooperative you’ve been.” That simple praise flooded him with an inexplicable warmth. He realized how deeply he craved her approval. Every small gesture of reassurance seemed to justify the surrender he felt, the childlike acceptance of her rules. It was disorienting, yet undeniably comforting. The rest of the evening fell into a gentle rhythm. She guided him through a few household tasks—organizing drawers, vacuuming the living room—activities that he performed in his thick, padded undergarment, constantly aware of the faint crinkle with each step. Yet by nightfall, he realized he wasn’t quite as self-conscious as before. He could move freely, even forgetting at times that a diaper was taped around his waist. And so, as bedtime approached, Meredith once again led him through the ritual: a final bathroom check under her supervision, then a fresh night diaper, followed by a whimsical footed sleeper zipped and locked at the back. She tucked him in, pressed a goodnight kiss to his forehead, and switched off the lamp. In the darkness, Leon sighed. This new sense of routine—of wearing diapers day and night—didn’t feel quite as alien as it once had. He wondered if that was a good thing, or if it simply meant he was losing pieces of his adulthood. But his mind didn’t dwell on it long. Exhaustion took him, and he drifted off, lulled by the gentle rustle of his padded underwear and the knowledge that Meredith was proud of him. Chapter Thirteen: Testing Boundaries The days rolled by in a blur of routine: breakfast together, a diaper check, dressing in youthful clothes Meredith chose, occasional errands if she needed something, and always the unwavering rule of requesting permission—or using his diaper—whenever nature called. Leon found himself settling into the pattern with surprising ease. But with familiarity came curiosity—and a streak of rebellion. One afternoon, Meredith stepped out to pick up a package from the building’s reception desk. She instructed Leon to remain in the apartment, as usual. Sinking onto the living room couch, Leon felt the snug pull of his diaper around his hips, reminding him of his constant lack of autonomy. A stray thought nudged at him. What if he tried removing the diaper himself, just to see if he could? Perhaps he’d use the toilet without waiting for her. He was an adult—eighteen, yes, and short, but perfectly capable of managing the simplest bodily functions without a caretaker’s guidance. Right? The idea bloomed into a daring impulse. Meredith wouldn’t be gone long. If he acted quickly, he could strip off the diaper, use the bathroom, and tape it back in place—she might never know, unless she checked the tapes closely. His heart pounded. Could he pull it off? With trembling hands, he stood and slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door. He stared at himself in the dresser mirror—his small frame swaddled in a childlike T-shirt and an unmistakable diaper bulge. Taking a shaky breath, he peeled down his sweatpants to reveal the tapes. He’d never removed them on his own; Meredith always did it for him. Nervous excitement thrummed in his veins. Slowly, he reached for one of the tapes, pulling it free with a soft ripping sound. He paused, listening for footsteps or voices in the hallway. Silence. Emboldened, he undid the second tape. A moment later, the diaper slid to the floor with a dull thud. For the first time in days, he felt the cool air against his bare skin. But just as he turned to head for the bathroom, he heard the distinctive jingle of keys at the front door. Panic shot through him. He scrambled, trying to lift the diaper back into place, fumbling with the tapes. His hands shook so badly that he couldn’t align them properly. “Leon?” Meredith’s voice, suddenly closer than he expected. He froze, a terrible realization sinking in: she had the keys, and the apartment door was already open. He pictured her stepping inside, noticing the bedroom door closed. Any second now, she’d be here. His eyes darted around for a place to hide. His heart hammered. The diaper was half-secured, one tape crooked, the other barely stuck to the front panel. Before he could fully fix it, the bedroom door opened. Meredith stood in the threshold, eyebrows arched. Her gaze swept over him—pants around his ankles, the diaper precariously attached, guilt shining in his eyes. He swallowed, feeling a wave of mortification so intense it made him dizzy. She took a measured step forward, an unreadable expression on her face. “Care to explain?” she asked softly, though her tone carried the weight of disappointment. Leon’s eyes stung with imminent tears. “I—I just…” His voice wavered. “I wanted to use the toilet. By myself.” Silence stretched. Then she shut the door behind her, crossing her arms. The tension in the room was palpable. “You know the rules,” she said quietly. “If you need the toilet and I’m not here, you use your diaper or wait.” He bit his lip, tears blurring his vision. “I—I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to prove I could do it on my own.” Meredith’s gaze softened slightly, though her posture remained firm. “Get on the bed,” she said, nodding toward the mattress. “Lie down.” He obeyed, shuffling awkwardly and sinking onto the comforter. She followed, kneeling beside him, methodically reattaching the diaper’s tapes. Though her movements were gentle, a current of disappointment tinged the air. “I’m not punishing you because you need help,” she explained, voice subdued. “I’m upset because you broke trust. You tried to remove the diaper behind my back instead of talking to me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just feel so… helpless sometimes.” Meredith’s expression softened further. She cupped his cheek, brushing a tear away with her thumb. “I know it can be hard. But we made an agreement. I need you to respect it.” He nodded miserably. “I will… I promise.” She helped him stand, pulling his sweatpants up over the re-secured diaper. Then, with surprising tenderness, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing him against her tall frame. “You’ll be wearing thicker diapers for a while,” she murmured. “And I’ll check them more often. I have to be sure I can trust you.” Leon’s chest clenched. The idea of bigger, more conspicuous padding made his stomach sink. Yet he deserved it, he supposed, for breaking the rules. “I understand,” he said hoarsely, arms sliding around her waist. She held him quietly for a moment, letting the tension ebb. He felt her lips graze his temple, a soft, reassuring gesture. The conflict between frustration and comfort roiled inside him. Part of him wanted more independence; part of him felt relief that she refused to let him fend for himself. Without further discussion, she led him back to the living room, returning to their daily routine. But now a new tension lingered—an unspoken reminder that she was always in control, and that if he tried to break free, the rules would only tighten. And for reasons that baffled him, a small, conflicted part of Leon found a flicker of solace in that unwavering authority. Chapter Fourteen: Closer Under Stricter Rules The weeks following Leon’s failed act of independence were marked by intensified control. Meredith insisted on thicker diapers, even during short outings. His schedule became more rigid. Now, each morning after breakfast, she’d conduct a “diaper check” to ensure he was properly padded and that he hadn’t tampered with the tapes. Whenever she left him alone, she’d set timeframes for when he could text or call. Sometimes she’d even leave the bedroom door open so she could keep an eye on him from other parts of the apartment. At first, Leon felt smothered—his guilt over lying to her was matched only by the frustration of feeling like a child. Yet something unexpected blossomed in the midst of these stricter measures: an undeniable closeness. Each small act of nurturing drew them nearer in an odd, secret way. When Meredith changed him out of a soggy diaper with gentle reassurance, he felt loved. When she praised him for complying with his schedule, he felt proud. Their bond, once overshadowed by fear and embarrassment, grew into a new kind of intimacy. It happened late one evening, as she was zipping him into a fresh footed sleeper. He lay on the bed, arms folded, face flushed, while she carefully aligned the zipper. Once it was done, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips—a kiss that, for the first time, felt more than protective. There was a hint of passion, an adult warmth. Leon’s heart fluttered. She pulled away slowly. “I love taking care of you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky in the dim bedroom light. “Even if you test my patience sometimes.” Leon swallowed, eyes shining. “I love you,” he breathed, the admission trembling with vulnerability. “I—I really do.” She brushed a hand over his cheek, hooking a finger around the sleeper’s collar to ensure it was snug. “I know,” she replied, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “That’s why this works—because we trust each other, don’t we?” He nodded. “I’m sorry about before… trying to remove the diaper on my own. I won’t do it again.” Meredith’s smile softened. “I believe you,” she said, then locked the tiny clasp at the nape of his neck. The soft clink of metal felt final. “Now, get some rest.” With that, she flicked off the overhead light, leaving only a bedside lamp. He burrowed under the covers while she settled beside him for a moment, stroking his hair as though soothing a restless child. The gentle caress lulled him into a half-doze, each breath in tandem with the quiet hiss of air conditioning. He felt a surge of affection so strong it was almost painful. Yes, her rules could be stifling. Yes, he sometimes hated feeling dependent. But she was also his haven—his protector, who willingly took on this responsibility to keep him safe and stress-free. In that sense, the diapers, the childish clothes, and the locked sleepers were all expressions of her unwavering commitment. Eventually, she stood to leave, switching off the lamp entirely. “Goodnight, little one,” she whispered, her voice floating through the darkness. Leon closed his eyes, sinking into the pillow with a soft rustle of crinkling plastic. “Goodnight,” he managed, comforted by her presence even as she slipped away. And as he drifted into sleep, he wondered if this deepening closeness was worth the cost of his dwindling autonomy. Chapter Fifteen: The Unshakable Bond Morning light found Leon stirring early, roused by a nagging pressure in his bladder. He blinked sleep from his eyes, momentarily forgetting the confines of his locked footed sleeper. As he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, the thick padding between them reminded him precisely of his predicament. For a fleeting second, panic seized him—he needed to go, and there was no easy way out. But then memory returned in a warm rush: Meredith. She would help him. He just had to call out. “Meredith?” he croaked softly, clearing his throat. “Meredith!” A moment later, the bedroom door opened, revealing her tall silhouette, hair in a loose ponytail. She flicked on the lamp, letting a soft glow illuminate her concerned face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Leon swallowed, cheeks warming. “I—uh, need the bathroom. Please.” Her gaze flickered to the locked collar of his sleeper, then down to his diaper. “Let’s see…” she murmured. She retrieved the key from the dresser and came closer. “We’ll get you out. Hold on.” He exhaled shakily as she unlocked the small metal clasp, unzipped him, and peeled open the footed pajamas. The crisp air prickled his skin. Within seconds, he was free—except for the diaper taped tightly around him. “Stand up,” she directed, guiding him gently. He pressed his thighs together, bladder now pleading for release. She plucked at the diaper’s tapes, revealing his bare hips. “All set,” she announced. Without waiting another second, Leon darted to the bathroom. This time, there was no condescending observation or requirement to text for permission—she was right there, consenting to let him go. Relief washed over him, both physically and emotionally. When he finished, Meredith stood by the sink, watching calmly. Wordlessly, she handed him a fresh diaper, indicating he should rejoin her in the bedroom. Leon obeyed, though he felt a flicker of pride. She was letting him do part of it himself—at least carrying the diaper. Back in the bedroom, he lay on the bed, anticipating her usual routine of taping him up. But she surprised him by placing the diaper in his hands. “Try,” she said softly. His eyes widened. “You… you want me to do it?” She nodded, an encouraging smile on her lips. “Yes. Go on, show me.” Nervous but determined, Leon unfolded the diaper. He positioned it under himself, fumbling with the tapes. Twice, the adhesive caught on the wrong spot, creating crooked wings. Meredith watched patiently, offering occasional suggestions: “Bring it up a bit higher in front,” or “Tighten the left tape.” After some clumsy effort, he managed a passable fit. It felt snug—but not quite as neat as when she did it. Still, a wave of satisfaction rippled through him. The partial freedom of dressing himself was exhilarating, even if the result was still a diaper. Meredith patted the front. “Good job,” she praised. “Now, it’s not perfect, but it’ll hold for a while.” He beamed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The subtle acknowledgment that he could do something as basic as tape on his own diaper, under her supervision, felt like an important step. It was a small slice of autonomy within the realm of her control. “We’ll see how you manage,” she continued, smoothing down his hair. “If you do well, maybe I’ll let you take more responsibility for your changes—under my guidance, of course.” Leon nodded, heart fluttering. “Thank you,” he whispered earnestly. In that moment, a new understanding passed between them. Their bond was unshakable now, grounded not just in her dominance but in a shared willingness to adapt. She’d grown stricter after he broke her trust, but she also recognized his desire for a smidge of independence. They didn’t need to be locked in an endless cycle of parent and child. They were lovers, partners—albeit in a very unconventional arrangement. And so, as Meredith helped him into a pair of soft lounge pants, the corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle smile. “Let’s go have breakfast,” she said, lacing her fingers through his and giving him a tender squeeze. Leon squeezed back, feeling the padded bulk beneath his pants but no longer drowning in shame. Yes, it was still embarrassing, and he still had rules and limitations, but he was beginning to realize that, at the core of it all, they truly cared for each other. Their relationship wasn’t defined by his size or her control, but by the intimacy and trust they cultivated day by day. He followed her out to the kitchen, diaper rustling in time with his step. Love blossomed in his chest, soft and certain. They were forging a balance—one where she guided him with structure, and he offered devotion and openness in return. For the first time since this odd journey began, Leon felt confident that despite the diapers, the childish clothes, and the potty rules, he and Meredith were heading toward something healthy and lasting: a bond that neither of them ever wanted to break. Epilogue A few months later, their small apartment felt more like a sanctuary than ever. The bedroom closet now housed a full set of neatly stacked diapers and childish outfits. A special drawer even contained footed sleepers with various colors and prints. Leon sometimes giggled at just how large their “babyish” collection had grown—and how routine it had become to wear them. But if anyone asked how they lived, they would never fully understand the tapestry of love and control woven into their day-to-day. Leon was still small for his age, and Meredith still stood a majestic six foot one—always a striking figure next to him. Yet their dynamic had evolved into a fluid dance between caretaker and lover, discipline and compassion. Most mornings, Leon took pride in taping on his own diaper under Meredith’s watchful eye, a sign of trust regained after his earlier missteps. He appreciated that small allowance of autonomy, even if the end result—padded underwear—remained the same. They had found a middle ground: Leon could participate in the process while still relying on Meredith’s guidance and final approval. Their schedules remained structured: breakfast together, chores or errands, and occasional nights out when Meredith felt he could handle a discrete pull-up beneath carefully chosen clothes. She insisted on the same strict potty rules—permission required, or else using his diaper. Yet she was more flexible in granting him access to the toilet if he asked politely and the timing worked. She even allowed him the small triumph of undressing himself sometimes, though major clothing changes—especially diaper changes—were still primarily her domain. And Leon discovered that, in this near-constant state of managed dependency, he found security. The embarrassment never fully disappeared—he still blushed whenever she patted his diaper to check for wetness in front of a mirror, or when she zipped him into a footed sleeper hours before bedtime. But he’d come to enjoy the closeness, the protective embrace of her authority. Their love life thrived, too, in its own secret way. While the story behind their padded routines and potty rules was not something they shared with others, it forged a profound trust between them. She cradled him with a mix of parental warmth and adult desire, bridging the gap between caretaker and partner. He, in turn, found joy in pleasing her—accepting her rules, even appreciating them, for what they gave him in return. On a crisp, clear morning, they stood together in the living room, the sun casting bright rectangles across the floor. Meredith had just finished checking his diaper—still dry—and was reminding him of his chores for the day. Leon stared up at her, feeling every inch the smaller man, yet entirely content. “Remember,” she was saying in that measured tone, “if you need the potty, you call me or text me. If I don’t answer, you use the diaper. No accidents on the floor.” “Yes, Meredith,” Leon responded readily. Then, unable to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek against her torso. “Thank you,” he whispered, though he wasn’t quite sure for what—perhaps for everything. She laughed softly, brushing a hand over his hair. “You’re welcome, little one. Now off you go.” And so their life continued—a carefully balanced blend of loving dominance and welcomed submission, of soft crinkles and locked sleepers, of structure and devotion. In the end, their bond had become unbreakable: the tall, commanding woman and her tiny, adoring boyfriend, joined in a private world of mutual care and trust. Though it defied outside understanding, for them, it was perfect. And in the comfort of that shared knowledge, they closed the door to the rest of the world, content to exist precisely as they were—together.

Ruby was a small high school graduate currently looking for a job to save money to move in to her own apartment

Looking to do a fnaf diaper RP need a cg/dom who is ok with spanking and breastfeeding

Rei was on her way home from school blushing after she had another accident “I hope mommy doesn’t find out I’ll have to be careful getting these dirty clothes in the laundry

***This story is an alternative time-line to ours about the post covid pandemic era. *** -Prelude Setup- "The year is 2022, the last 2 and a half years Covid 19 has reaped havoc on society, but now with things opening back up and every day taking more and more steps forward from quarantine and masks more questions arise. The one on our table today is schooling. Now the switch to E-learning was not fast nor easy, many kids didn't learn what the needed too, or the way they needed too. We have many kids who regressed in not only their studies but in maturity, social face to face, and in unfortunately many cases out of the house habits. We currently have statistics of grades k thru 12 on the screen behind me. As you can see these are the most common issues students are having. In k thru 6, most students have regressed in mathematics, reading and writing. They also have a steep up tick in bathroom accidents and other social behaviors such as thumb sucking, whining, and "wanting mommy". We believe these are all related. Also with grades 5 thru 12 we are seeing issues with confidence, low test scores, unpreparedness, and social awkwardness." The sharped dressed woman at the front of the meeting room stood tall as she took off her glasses looking at the screen behind her. "I, Dr. Jasmine Hartwell propose this... (she lays out 13 tests on the table in front of her labeled pre-k all the way thru 12 grade) These are placement tests. Every student in this district will take these tests and their scores will tell us where they are at academically, in addition each student will be sent a packet at home to be filled out by their guardian to get the full scope of how both mature and socially stable each child is. This school district along with 4 others have been chosen across the US to participate in this to see if a wide roll out is what this country needs. Now there are limits to placements from these results current 16, 17 and 18 year old may not place below 8th grade if then need to we will have a special class set for them. 12 and up may not be placed below K under 12 is fair game. Now on the flip side of this NO student will be moving up due to test scores. This is to see if they need help or not. And in addition we will have multiple staff members here to help in transition down graders will need, either maybe a councilor or a trained specialist to help them calm down and fit in better with their new grade and age range. If there is any questions email them to me. And please keep you emotions at the door during these tests this is the best for us and them. Thank you tests will start tomorrow." Dr. Hartwell says closing her book putting her glasses away and walks out of the meeting leaving all the teachers, principles and faculty in a gasp. The next day as soon as it hit 10am every student across Willow's Green School District was sat down for the test about the same time all the parents were also filling out their packet about their sons and daughters being as honest as they can. By 4pm that same day most families were back home discussing the day, some over dinner, some in a quiet room, some scared, some over confident. But all had the weekend to think, enjoy, and prepare for what Monday brings with the test results. All weekend long teachers and government appointed educational professionals would be grading and judging test and packets a like. By Monday the kids were back in school in their usual classes. The district of a little over 8 hundred kids was ready and waiting for how crazy the day was about to become. Busses were outside the high school, middle school, and elementary waiting to bring the kids who were labeled as down graders where they needed to go. Parents all got text messages at the same time as the schools were giving out the results to the kids. In total two thirds of the kids were being down graded! The senior and junior classes didn't see much loss, sophomore and freshman classes had almost half drown graded at least one grade. The middle school was hit the worst over half of the current middle school was being down graded to elementary. While half the elementary was being down graded, 65 kids across k thru 5 were send back to pre k (most of the kindergarteners) and only a few preschoolers fell out of pre k. The busses gathered the kids some in hysterics, some angry, and a few in just shock. This story will follow 3 family's effected by this government test in Willow's Green school district. I'm sorry this intro was so long, but I've been wanting to write this story for a while and I have a lot of thoughts. I might also post this on writing.com as an interactive depending on feed back. Stop by seen for chapter 1! Thank you!

This story is a sequel of my former story Happy Family and Double R project. Allusions and references to those stories are included. Happy Family Double R project Part 1: “Mommy, are you serious? Your idea is crazy!” Ashley Compton shook her head vigorously. “Why, Ashley? I’m your mother and will do everything to make you happy,” Victoria Davis smiled at her daughter. Victoria ‘s idea really looked crazy. Ashley was barren and she desperately desired for children. However, she wouldn’t like to adopt them. Victoria offered her help, but that help was slightly unorthodox. Several mothers helped their barren daughters by carrying their children in their own womb, but Ashley was barren and didn’t have ova that could be fertilized and implanted into Victoria’s womb. Victoria’s plan was quite different. She wanted to take part in an experiment. As the Happy Family affair was over and the regression machine was confiscated by the county, experiments were running at the city university. Later, the machine was abused by the army and secret services in the scandalous Double R project. Now, the machine was still working, and a new phase of the experiments was started. Volunteers were wanted to undergo the regression. Victoria intended to apply for an experiment and get regressed and become Ashley’s child. It looked crazy indeed. “Mommy, you will become my daughter. I can’t imagine it,” Ashley still didn’t believe what she heard. “Do you know a better person than your loving mommy? I’m divorced and live alone mostly. Now I could live with you without being the troublesome mother-in-law.” “Are you not afraid of this change? You will become a toddler and probably stay a toddler forever. According to my knowledge, nobody was able to grow up except for the double-R-project victims.” “We can ask about it. Maybe there is an advance in the research.” “Okay, but I wouldn’t like to agree to your idea all alone. I think we should ask my brother at least; after all you are his mother, too.” “Right, Ashley, we can ask him first. Now tell me how you imagine my regressed form? How old should I be?” “I don’t know, mommy. Maybe two or three? I’d like to have a small child rather than start with a teenage girl. I don’t mind if you stay an eternal toddler. It is my secret dream, mom. A cute toddler is everything I long for.” “Okay, I’m also surprised by my own idea, but it is somehow attractive; it will be my second childhood. Let’s call Harry and arrange a family meeting to discuss my idea.” The next weekend, the family meeting took place. Victoria presented her idea to Harry, his wife Eileen and their three children – Charlie, Annie and Susie. Charlie, the oldest child, was 12. He was a clever boy and good student. His sister Annie was 8 and the youngest girl Susan was 3. Harry was amused by the idea and didn’t mind it at all. “I will have a niece instead of mom,” he grinned, and Eileen nodded. She was a good mother and loved her children deeply. Harry’s children reacted differently. “Daddy, we will lose our grandma,” Charlie was shocked by the idea. “We won’t lose her, Charlie,” Susan shook her little head, “she will be as little as I am,” Susie also was clever and intelligent, but she still was a little girl and accepted the change easily. “Susie, you will have a playmate,” Annie added. “Okay. Would you like to have a cousin then?” Victoria asked them that important question. “Yeah, Granny,” they answered almost unisono; Charlie hesitated for a short moment. “Well, get ready then. I will return as your new cousin soon,” she smiled at them. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Your idea sounds crazy, madam,” the lab assistant shook his head when Victoria explained her application and its reason, “but I have to agree with you. You are the first volunteer that wants to change her family relation, and your motivation is quite strong. Can you tell me your requirements? I can’t guarantee they will be fulfilled, but we will do our best.” “I’d like to become a true toddler 2 or 3 years old and start a new life as a daughter of my Ashley,” Victoria smiled at her daughter. “Does it mean you will lose your memories?” Victoria hesitated for awhile, but the idea sounded attractive. She would forget every bad experience and start a brand-new life. “Mommy, don’t worry. I will tell you everything necessary and leave out your unpleasant memories,” Ashley encouraged her mom, “you will start a true new life.” A week later, all preparations were done. Ashley equipped a nursery for her future daughter and purchased everything necessary to take car of a toddler and a few pieces of clothing; she didn’t know exactly the required size. Victoria and Ashley arrived at the university lab in the morning. The regression machine was set up already according to Victoria’s requirements: - Age about 3 - Loss of memory - Limited motoric skills - Possible grow up Victoria undressed herself, lay down on the bed and the assistant connected the wires to her body and started the regression program. She suddenly felt dizzy and the world around her grew larger. Her mind was changing as well. All her memories disappeared, and she felt incredibly happy at that moment even if she didn’t know why. A wide smile appeared on her lips. Victoria Davis was a past now; Victoria Compton was born … or reborn? “All done,” the assistant switched off the machine and disconnected all the wires from the little body, “dress your daughter and carry her to the examination room please. We need to check her health condition.” “Victoria, sweetheart, mommy will dress you now,” Ashley smiled at her new daughter. She realized Victoria had lost her memories, and she had to teach her the name and all family members first. Victoria smiled back and listened. Her mind was clean and empty. As Ashley grabbed a diaper, she instinctively lifted her behind. Her toddler mind accepted diapers and the memories of an old woman had disappeared. Now she was a little girl that knew her mommy and her name. Ashley put the diaper beneath Victoria and realized that was the first of endless diaper changes. Nevertheless, she didn’t mind it at all. Diapers belonged to the cute toddler image she longed for. She dressed Victoria in a cute dress and pair of tights and pink shoes. “Come, sweetheart, can you walk?” she asked Victoria; the little girl sat up and crawled down from the bed. Her legs seemed to be a bit weak, but she was able to walk. The assistant led them to the exam room where the doctor did a quick check. ” Mrs. Compton, congratulations to your daughter. She is a healthy 3-year-old toddler. You can take her home. Stop at our office to obtain the birth certificate. Also, I expect you with her to have another health check in two months. If you notice any issue, contact me immediately. We need feedback of our experiments.” Ashley was amused by the word ‘birth certificate’, but there was no matching document available to make Victoria her legal child. She put the little girl into a stroller and drove her to the office. As soon as she got the birth certificate, she left the university and put Victoria into a car seat and drove off. Victoria was a bit tired. The regression had been a challenge for her and her little body was exhausted. She yawned when Ashley put her into the stroller, and her eyes closed minutes later. While Ashley was carrying her to the car, she was asleep already.

We're very excited to open Sunshine Junction Adult Baby Daycare 1.4 so all the little ones can Learn, Explore, Imagine, and Be Themselves. MISSION Our mission at the Sunshine Junction Adult Baby Daycare is to provide a safe, nurturing, and accepting environment for individuals who enjoy and benefit from the experience of age regression. We believe everyone deserves to be cared for and accepted for who they are, regardless of age or circumstance. Our dedicated and compassionate staff is committed to creating a space where adult babies can feel comfortable and free to express themselves without fear of judgment. We strive to provide high-quality care and attention to every individual, ensuring that their physical and emotional needs are met. Through play, activities, and socialization, we aim to promote happiness, confidence, and a sense of belonging for all our clients. We believe that the experience of age regression can be a positive and therapeutic way for individuals to cope with stress, anxiety, or trauma and to explore their inner child. Our adult baby daycare is dedicated to fostering a community of inclusivity, respect, and understanding where every individual is valued and supported. SERVICES We use the innovative, free Virtual Master program created by Sven B. to immerse you in the daycare setting of your adult baby dreams. Our staff members are specially trained to give you the love and caring or strict discipline and punishment you need. We are currently accepting registration for our Infant program (6 wks - 1 year old) and our Toddler program (1 -3 years old). We offer the flexibility of our exceptional services for whatever time period is needed, from a few minutes to the entire day. Fun, creative activities vary daily to give you the best opportunity to explore and learn. You can create up to 10 custom activities to fill your time or use the 17 preset activities that we offer. We have a comprehensive list of expected behaviors and rules for both of your programs. Adhere to the rules, and you will be rewarded. Disobey, and there may be consequences. We are open for everyone to feel welcome and loved. We offer customization of the script for the following areas: -Gender identity and pronouns -Parent or caregiver involvement, if applicable -Use of Imperial (US) or Metric system -Customization of required fluid intake based on your weight and bladder capacity -Optional use of a webcam to document your day with us. -The ability to identify and celebrate birthdays or holidays -The ability to customize your care and activities based on supplies you have. -Chose between calling it a Diaper or Nappy -Distinguish if you will be wearing Cloth or Disposable diapers -You are instructed on what liquids you are to drink and how often. -You are instructed on what types of food you are to have and when. -You choose which staff member you would like to care for you. Loving Linda, or Strict Linda, is waiting to give you the attention you need. -You chose rewards that will encourage your good behavior. -Should you choose Strict Linda, you will be given the option of establishing up to 4 preset punishment types and the option to customize up to 5 to encourage your behavior. Choose to get a report card of your visit. This will allow you to keep track of your day or let your partner see what fun adventure you were a part of. Allow yourself to be cared for in the loving, caring environment we create. You will be treated just like every other little one while you're with us, with scheduled and random diaper checks, scheduled naps, and activity time to keep your little mind and body growing and exploring. Come spend your precious time in a place that loves and accepts you for who you are. Register today!! Changes for Version 1.4: -We've created 1400+ audio files and enhanced the previous files to bring Sunshine Junction the most realistic Adult Baby Daycare ever! - Errors corrected to allow for seamless performance and the best user experience to date. -New quiet time Python addition prevents users from using their computer during this period. -New narrative added -Grammer and spelling corrections *The program requires Microsoft Windows; however, instructions are available for 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 to eliminate the mistakes is made. Assistance is always welcome to identify errors and inconsistencies or aid future script development. You can find all of our programs at https://mistresssebrina1.gumroad.com/l/ABDaycare14 or lilagain.etsy.com

Hi this is a role i had in mind its almost like the movie coraline if anyone has seen it where coraline goes through this door and ends up in a world with the other mother and other father etc. Here would be my idea and bare with me as i try my best. Valeria is 16 and small for her age but that never stopped her from being a typical teenager, as she lives with her parents and even though she loves them they are just always too busy for her and often times forgets that she exists and has wondered if they ever would miss her if she were to just leave and never come back which she doubts they would as they rarely are ever home with how busy there work schedules were. One afternoon valeria was exploring the home that her parents and her have moved in to and upon exploring it she found a random key and decided to see what door it could unlock. As she gone through the home she happen to come across this door in her closet that was locked so she placed the key in and went to unlock it, and to her surprise it revealed a tunnel and so she decided to crawl through it but little did she know what would be on the other side that would change her life for good. Valeria gets to the end of the tunnel as there was a door at the end and once she passed through it and ended up in some house and when she had second thoughts about this the door she came from suddenly is gone.