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No dimensions, universes, giantesses, fairies or diapered dragons or whatever - just the fap you are looking for. Future chapters will follow in the coming days. CHAPTER 1 The pink cotton clung to Lana’s hips as she paused outside Jacob’s door, her knuckles hovering just shy of the wood. The hallway smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and something else—something damp. She exhaled through her nose before rapping her fingers against the doorframe. "Jacob? You awake?" Inside, the room was a disaster zone of crumpled sweatpants and half-empty soda cans. Jacob sat cross-legged on his bed, phone glowing in his hands, the unopened pack of adult diapers glaring at him from the nightstand like an accusation. He didn’t look up. "Yeah." Lana stepped inside, arms crossed loosely over her chest. The nightgown swished around her knees as she nudged a stray pizza box aside with her toe. "Listen," she said, softer now. "I’m not mad. But we gotta figure this out." Her eyes flicked to the untouched diapers. "You haven't been putting your... protection on properly." Jacob’s thumb froze mid-scroll. His throat worked silently for a second before he muttered, "I got it this time, don't worry." She didn’t move. The ceiling fan clicked overhead, uneven in its rotation. Lana rubbed her temple. "Jacob," she tried again, gentler, "you didn’t ‘get it’ the last two nights." Jacob’s grip tightened around his phone, the screen dimming as his fingers dug into the case. "I said I got it," he repeated, voice cracking just enough for Lana to catch it. His knees drew up slightly, as if he could shrink away from the whole conversation. Lana exhaled through her nose, the sound barely audible over the hum of the fan. She didn’t move closer—didn’t loom—just let the silence stretch between them until it was thicker than the summer heat. Then, with deliberate calm, she walked to the bed and sat on the edge, mattress dipping under her weight. "Jacob," she said, not unkindly, "your sheets are in the washer again. Your pajama pants too." A pause. "You need diapers." His face burned. The diaper package on the nightstand might as well have been neon. "It’s—it’s just embarrassing," he muttered, finally looking up. Lana’s expression wasn’t mocking, wasn’t even impatient. Just... tired. And something else. Concern, maybe. She reached for the pack, tearing the plastic with a practicality that left no room for argument. "Kid, I changed your diapers when you were two. This isn’t new." The crinkle of the material was obscenely loud in the quiet room. Jacob flinched. "That’s different. I was a baby." Lana smoothed the fresh diaper against the mattress with a practiced hand, the crinkling sound making Jacob’s shoulders tense. "Honestly," she said, not unkindly but with a firmness that brooked no argument, "you’re acting like you’re two years old all over again. Leaving your crap everywhere, forgetting to shower, and now this?" She tapped the plastic packaging. "You drink five or six sodas before bed and then wonder why you’re peeing yourself. It’s not rocket science, Jacob." Jacob’s fingers dug into his thighs. The fan above them wobbled, casting uneven shadows across his face. "I don’t—it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose," he muttered, but even he heard the defensive whine in his voice. Lana arched a brow, unimpressed. "No? Then why haven’t you cut back on the pop? Or set an alarm to use the bathroom? Or," she gestured pointedly at the untouched diapers, "even tried to help yourself?" She sighed, rubbing her temple again. "You’re not a kid anymore, Jacob. But you’re sure acting like one." The words stung, mostly because they were true. He’d been coasting for months—letting Lana pick up his slack, letting the job applications pile up unread in his email. The wet sheets were just the latest humiliation in a long line of them. Lana softened slightly, nudging his knee with hers. "Look, I’m not trying to be a bitch about this. But you gotta meet me halfway." She held up the diaper between them, the absurdity of the situation hanging in the air like the scent of baby powder. "Tonight, we do it right. No more wet sheets. No more excuses." Jacob shot up from the bed so fast his knee knocked a soda can off the nightstand, the aluminum clattering against the hardwood. "I don’t need them!" His voice cracked halfway through the sentence, pitching higher than he intended. He swiped at the diaper in Lana’s hand, but she held it just out of reach, her expression shifting from patient to something sharper. "I’m not—I’m not a baby, Lana!" "No, you’re not," she agreed, too calm, like she was humoring a toddler mid-tantrum. She didn’t stand, just tilted her head up to look at him, the ceiling fan casting jagged shadows across her face. "But, again, you really are acting like one. Throwing a fit over something that’ll literally solve the problem you won’t fix yourself." Jacob’s hands curled into fists. "It’s embarrassing!" Lana’s laugh was short, humorless. "You think I enjoy this? Washing your piss-soaked sheets at two in the morning?" She stood then, slow, deliberate, the diaper dangling from her fingers. "You want embarrassing? Try explaining to Amanda whose son is pretty much out of diapers while you're going back into them." The words hit like a slap. Jacob’s throat tightened. He opened his mouth—to argue, to snap back—but nothing came out. Because she wasn’t wrong. He’d seen the way their neighbor had given him an all-knowing smile the other day. Lana watched Jacob's shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him like air from a punctured balloon. His fists unclenched, fingers trembling slightly before he wiped them on his pajama pants—the same pair she'd washed twice this week. She stepped closer, not crowding him, but close enough that he couldn't avoid the crinkling sound of the diaper in her hand. "Sit," she said, nodding toward the bed. Not a request. Jacob hesitated, then sank onto the mattress, the springs creaking under his weight. He kept his eyes fixed on the soda stain on the carpet, a dark blotch shaped like a half-dried puddle. Lana sat beside him, close enough that their thighs almost touched. The diaper lay between them, an unspoken punctuation mark to the conversation. "Look at me," she said, softer now. When he didn’t move, she hooked a finger under his chin and tilted his face up. His cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with something between shame and stubbornness. "This isn’t about humiliation. It’s about fixing a problem." She tapped the diaper against his knee. "You wanna act like a kid? Fine. But kids follow rules. And tonight, the rule is you’re wearing this." Jacob swallowed hard. "What if—what if I just don’t drink anything after dinner?" Lana snorted. "You said that last night. Then I found you in the kitchen at midnight chugging Mountain Dew straight from the bottle." She shook her head, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "Face it, kid. You’ve got the self-control of a puppy in a treat factory." Jacob flopped onto his back with all the dramatic flourish of a teenager who'd just been told to clean his room. Arms splayed out, legs stiff, he stared at the ceiling like it held the secrets of the universe. "There. Happy?" His voice dripped with petulance, but his fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles whitening. He hadn't even unbuttoned his pajama pants—just lay there in silent protest, a human-shaped lump of defiance. Lana let out a slow breath through her nose, the kind reserved for mothers standing in grocery store checkout lines with screaming toddlers. Without a word, she grabbed the hem of his wrinkled t-shirt—the one with the faded band logo he'd probably outgrown in tenth grade—and yanked it up over his head in one smooth motion. Jacob barely had time to squawk before the fabric muffled his outrage, arms flailing as she peeled it off him like a banana skin. "Hey—!" "Uh-huh," Lana said, tossing the shirt onto the growing pile of laundry in the corner. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his pajama pants next, not bothering with the drawstring. Jacob's yelp was higher-pitched this time as she tugged them down past his hips in one decisive motion, leaving him in just his boxers—and the unmistakable outline of yesterday's poor life choices pressing against the thin cotton. He scrambled to cover himself, face burning. "Jesus, Lana—!" She ignored him, snapping the diaper open with a practiced flick of her wrists. The crinkling sound seemed absurdly loud in the quiet room. "You wanna act like a toddler? Fine. But toddlers don’t get modesty privileges." Her tone was matter-of-fact, the same one she'd used when teaching him to tie his shoes at age six. "Lift your hips." Jacob's breath hitched as Lana's fingers slid under his hips, the sudden pressure lifting him just enough for the diaper to whisper against the sheets beneath him. The crinkling plastic sounded obscenely loud—like walking on fresh snow in the dead of night—and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to disappear. Cool air hit his thighs as she tugged his boxers down, the elastic snapping against his skin in a final, humiliating protest. Lana worked with the brisk efficiency of someone who'd done this a thousand times before. One hand pressed flat against his stomach to keep him still while the other guided the diaper into place, her fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs as she adjusted the gathers. Jacob bit his lip hard enough to taste copper, his whole body rigid with the effort not to squirm. The padding was shockingly thick between his legs, the material puffing up around his hips in a way that made his stomach twist. Lana barely glanced at the stiff flush of pink between Jacob’s thighs as she dusted baby powder over the diaper’s lining with the precision of someone seasoning a steak. The powder puffed up in little clouds, settling into the creases with a clinical efficiency that made Jacob’s toes curl against the sheets. He jerked when her thumb grazed his hipbone to smooth out a wrinkle, but she didn’t pause—just tugged the front flap up between his legs with a brisk pat that left his face burning hotter than the embarrassment pooling in his gut. The tapes made a tearing sound as she secured them, one after another, snug but not tight enough to pinch. Jacob’s breath came shallow through his nose, his fingers clutching at the comforter like it might swallow him whole. Lana leaned back to survey her handiwork, the diaper crinkling obscenely as he shifted—a sound that would’ve been comical if it weren’t so mortifying. "There," she said, dusting her hands off on her nightgown. "Now was that so hard?" Jacob’s laugh was brittle. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack if he spoke, so he just stared at the ceiling fan’s wobbly rotation instead, counting the clicks between each uneven spin. The padding pressed against him in a way that was impossible to ignore, thick and foreign and somehow already warm from his body heat. Lana stood, the mattress springing back as her weight left it. She paused at the door, one hand on the knob. "Lights out in ten," she said, like this was any other night. Like she hadn’t just diapered him like an infant. "And no soda. Maybe have a glass of water, but not too close to bedtime." The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Jacob alone with the hum of the fan and the crinkle of plastic every time he so much as twitched. He waited until her footsteps faded down the hall before sitting up, the diaper rustling like a bag of chips under his weight. The mirror across the room reflected a version of himself he barely recognized—hair mussed, shoulders hunched, wearing nothing but a diaper. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until colors bloomed behind his lids. The half-empty soda can on the ground needed to be cleaned up and Jacob lazily wiped the spill with an old pair of boxers, picking up the aluminum still cold from condensation. He hadn’t even realized he’d brought it to his lips—just habit, muscle memory, his fingers curling around the damp can while Lana’s footsteps faded down the hall. The first few gulps had been defiant, almost satisfying in their pettiness. By the time he’d drained it, though, the sugar sat heavy in his stomach, a sluggish counterpoint to the frantic drumbeat of his pulse. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ignoring the crinkle between his legs as he shifted on the bed. The diaper hugged his crotch, the padding pressing insistently against his skin in a way that made his throat tight. A drop of condensation rolled off the can and onto his thigh, startlingly cold compared to the humid room. Jacob flicked it away with more force than necessary, watching it splatter against the wall like a tiny rebellion. Down the hall, the shower turned on—Lana’s nightly ritual, the pipes groaning as water hit the tiles. Jacob stared at the closed door, half-expecting her to burst back in and confiscate the empty can like some kind of contraband. But the only sound was the steady rush of water and the occasional creak of the house settling. He exhaled, slow and shaky, and reached for his phone just to have something to do with his hands. The screen lit up and opened up Instagram, first seeing a status update from Amanda next door—a blurry photo of Tommy grinning in his tiny dinosaur pajamas, captioned *Big boy pants all night!* Jacob’s thumb hovered over the heart react before he swiped the message away, his stomach twisting. The diaper rustled again as he slumped against the headboard, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet room. He should’ve felt relieved. The logical part of his brain knew Lana was right—knew the diapers were a practical solution, at least until he got his shit together. But logic couldn’t untangle the hot knot of humiliation lodged behind his ribs, the way his breath hitched every time the plastic shifted against his thighs. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest, as if that could somehow muffle the crinkling. The pillow pressed against Jacob’s hips in a way that made the padding shift, the crinkling sound suddenly muffled. He froze, half-expecting Lana to barge back in at the noise—but the shower was still running down the hall, the pipes whining like they always did when the water got too hot. He exhaled shakily and experimentally rocked forward again, just a tiny movement. The diaper’s inner lining brushed against him, softer than he’d expected, and his breath caught. He shouldn’t. He *really* shouldn’t. But the tension in his gut was unbearable, and the more he tried not to think about the way the material rubbed with every slight shift, the more his body seemed to betray him. Jacob clenched his teeth and ground his hips down harder into the pillow, the pressure just *there*, teasing in a way that made his toes curl. A strangled noise escaped his throat—part frustration, part something else entirely—and he buried his face in the pillow to smother it. The diaper held him snugly, the padding somehow both restrictive and yielding as he rocked into it. Every movement sent a jolt of heat through him, the friction just shy of too much. He bit his lip hard enough to sting, his fingers digging into the pillowcase as he chased the sensation, hips stuttering forward in shallow thrusts. The crinkling sounded obscenely loud to his own ears, but the water was still running, Lana none the wiser— Then the shower cut off abruptly. Jacob froze, heart hammering against his ribs. The pipes groaned as the water stopped, and he could practically *feel* Lana stepping out, towel wrapping around her, droplets hitting the bath mat. He pictured Lana, naked with water droplets slipping down her curves... Jacob's breath hitched as the diaper crinkled beneath him, the sound suddenly deafening in the silence after the shower shut off. His hips stuttered forward once, twice—then his whole body locked up as heat flooded through him in a dizzying rush. The padding absorbed it without a sound, the warmth spreading in a way that should've been mortifying but instead left him panting against the pillow, fingers twisted in the sheets. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the aftershocks thrumming through him and the horrifying realization of what he'd just done. Then the shame crashed down like a bucket of ice water. Jacob's face burned as he peeled himself away from the pillow, the diaper sticking uncomfortably to his thighs. He could feel the wetness cooling against his skin, the padding swollen and heavy between his legs. *Oh god.* He'd just—in a *diaper*. Like some kind of freak. His stomach twisted violently, and for a second he thought he might actually throw up. Down the hall, the bathroom door creaked open. Jacob's pulse spiked as he scrambled to pull the covers up over himself, the sheets rustling loudly. The diaper squished under his weight as he shifted, making his ears burn hotter. He grabbed his phone with trembling hands, pretending to scroll through something—anything—as Lana's footsteps padded closer. Her shadow darkened the crack under the door for a long moment before she knocked softly. "Jacob? You still awake?" He swallowed hard, throat clicking. "Yeah," he managed, voice strangled. The word came out too high, too tight. He cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the screen like it held the meaning of life. "Just—uh. Just on my phone." The doorknob turned with a slow, deliberate creak that made Jacob's spine stiffen. Lana's silhouette filled the doorway, backlit by the hall light, her damp hair clinging to the collar of her robe. She didn't step in immediately—just hovered there, one hand still on the knob, the scent of lavender body wash drifting in with her. "You're still up," she observed, not quite a question. Her eyes flicked to the crumpled blankets pooled around his waist, then to the phone clenched in his white-knuckled grip. Jacob willed his breathing to steady, but the diaper between his legs felt like a beacon pulsing under the sheets. Lana tilted her head, the robe's belt swaying as she took a step forward. "You okay? You're breathing like you just ran a mile." Jacob's thumb jerked across the screen, opening and closing apps at random. "Fine. Just—reading." Lana hummed, unconvinced. She crossed the room in three strides, the hem of her robe brushing against the discarded soda can. It rolled with a hollow clatter that made Jacob flinch. Her fingers closed around the edge of the comforter before he could react. "Let me check your diaper." "No—Lana, wait!" Jacob's hand shot out to grab her wrist, fingers digging into the soft skin above her pulse point. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough he was sure she could hear it. The diaper clung damply between his thighs, still warm from—*god*, from what he'd just done. If she pulled back the covers now, saw the mess he'd made... Lana didn't pause. Her fingers tightened on the comforter, and with one sharp tug, she yanked it down to his knees. Cold air hit Jacob's bare chest as he scrambled to cover himself, but Lana was already reaching for the waistband of the diaper, her nails skimming the sweat-damp skin of his hip. Jacob's breath seized in his throat. *She's going to see. She's going to know.* He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the disgusted gasp, the horrified recoil— "What the hell, Jacob?" Lana's voice cut through the panic, sharp with exasperation. Her thumb hooked under the elastic, peeling the diaper away from his skin with a wet sound that made his stomach flip. "It's barely been twenty minutes and you *already* wet yourself?" Jacob's eyes flew open. Lana was frowning down at the swollen padding, her nose wrinkled at the sharp tang of baby powder mixed with—*oh god*—the scent of his own release. But her expression wasn't disgust. Just frustration. Like he'd spilled juice on the couch again. Lana pinched the sodden padding between her fingers, lifting the diaper away from Jacob's hips with a disgusted flick of her wrist. The tapes tore free with a sound like Velcro ripping apart, the wet material sagging obscenely between them. "Jesus Christ, Jacob," she hissed, shaking the slightly damp garment like she might shake sense into him. "I *just* put this on you. Did you even *try* to hold it?" Jacob's mouth worked soundlessly, his throat clicking as he struggled to form words. The truth—the *real* truth—burned behind his teeth, acidic and unspeakable. He couldn't tell her. Couldn't even *think* it without wanting to crawl out of his own skin. Instead, he pressed his thighs together tighter, the cooling wetness between them making his stomach churn. "You're eighteen years old," she said, each word precise as a scalpel. "You probably drank a can of soda in secret like a kid stealing cookies, then let a little trickle out like an infant who doesn't know better." She grabbed a fresh diaper from the package with more force than necessary, the plastic crinkling like a threat. "I’m not taking any risks of you leaking, so roll over NOW." Jacob's breath hitched. "I—I don’t need a—" "*Now*, Jacob." Lana's voice brooked no argument, her fingers already tugging at his hips. The mattress dipped as she leaned over him, her damp hair brushing his chest as she maneuvered him onto his back. The new diaper unfolded with a crisp snap, the scent of baby powder puffing up in a cloud as she dusted the lining. Jacob's pulse hammered in his throat as Lana's fingers worked the tapes loose. The diaper sagged between his legs, still warm—not with urine, but with something far worse. His stomach twisted as the flaps peeled back, the sticky truth exposed to the overhead light. *She'll smell it,* he thought, panicked. *She'll know.* Lana paused, her nose wrinkling. Jacob braced for the recoil, the gasp, the horrified realization—but she only sighed, tossing the soiled diaper toward the trash can with a practiced flick of her wrist. "Honestly, Jacob," she muttered, reaching for the baby powder. "You'd think at your age you'd assume to use the toilet instead of lazily piddle in your nighttime diaper." His breath stalled. She hadn't noticed. The scent of his shame had blended seamlessly with the powder, the evidence hidden in plain sight. Relief flooded him—hot, nauseating relief—just as Lana tugged his hips up with one firm hand. The fresh diaper crinkled beneath him, absurdly white against his flushed skin. She dusted the lining with mechanical precision, her fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs as she smoothed out the gathers. Jacob bit his lip hard enough to taste copper, his entire body rigid. Every accidental touch sent electric jolts through him—half-terror, half something unnameable. Lana snapped the second diaper's tapes shut with more force than necessary, the plastic crinkling like a threat under Jacob's hips. She sat back on her heels, surveying her handiwork with a sigh that carried the weight of a hundred unwashed sheets. "My goodness, Jacob," she muttered, shaking her head. Her damp hair clung to the collar of her robe, the scent of lavender body wash clashing with the sharp tang of baby powder. "What am I gonna do with you?" Jacob stared at the ceiling, his fingers digging into the mattress. The new diaper pressed against him, stiff and pristine—a stark contrast to the humiliation pooling hot in his gut. Lana's thumb brushed his hipbone as she adjusted the waistband, her touch clinical, impersonal. Like he was six again, squirming on the changing table. "Maybe I need to treat you like a little baby," she mused, more to herself than to him. Her fingers tapped against his thigh—once, twice—a slow rhythm that made his breath hitch. "Early bedtime. No soda. Bottles instead of pop cans?" A humorless chuckle escaped her as she stood, the robe's belt swaying. "Hell, maybe I should get you a pacifier." Jacob's face burned. The words should've been ridiculous, laughable. But the way Lana said them— Lana straightened up, her damp robe whispering against the mattress as she dusted baby powder off her palms. The scent clung to her fingers—sweet, cloying, unmistakable. Jacob watched her throat move as she swallowed, the tendon flexing like she was biting back words. "Alright," she said finally, folding her arms across her chest. The motion made her robe gape slightly, revealing a sliver of damp collarbone. "Here's how tonight's gonna go." She tapped one bare foot against the floorboards, the rhythm deliberate. "You're gonna use the potty like a big boy before lights out." Her lips quirked at the phrasing—half-mocking, half-serious. "And when I check that diaper in the morning?" She leaned in, close enough that Jacob could see the faint smudge of mascara under her lashes. "It better be dry. Or else." Jacob's fingers twitched against the sheets. "Or else what?" Lana's smile curled slow and dangerous, like a cat spotting a cornered mouse. "Or else," she said, tapping his diapered hip with one manicured nail, "we're taking a field trip next door. Amanda's been *so* successful with Tommy's potty training lately." The crinkle of plastic underscored her words as Jacob stiffened beneath her touch. "Maybe she’ll have some tips for you." Jacob’s stomach dropped. Amanda—with her knowing smiles and perfectly manicured lawn—who'd waved at him just yesterday while Tommy proudly showed off his dinosaur undies. "You wouldn’t," he whispered, horrified. Lana plucked at the diaper’s waistband, letting it snap back against his skin with a sound that made him flinch. "Try me." She straightened, the robe’s belt swinging as she turned toward the door. "Pajamas are in the dryer. Put them on before you catch a chill." The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Jacob alone with the echo of her threat and the hum of the ceiling fan

We welcome your comments and criticisms. Prologue: A young girl named Abigail will have to deal with her stepmother for six months Chapter 01: Abigail was a beautiful, intelligent girl with bright blonde hair and a clever look in her eyes. She lived with her family, including her stepmother Lilian, who was a strong and dominant businesswoman. Lilian was about to marry Abigail's father, Mike, a man who traveled a lot for his work. Despite having an initially friendly relationship with Lilian and enjoying the moments they spent together, Abigail had a secret that worried her. Ever since her mother left when she was little, Abigail had suffered from the problem of wetting the bed at night. Her father reassured her that it was just a passing phase, and Lilian also tried to be understanding, but deep down she considered her immature and discreetly called her "baby" because she still didn't have proper bladder control.All of Lilian's cruel actions were hidden from Mike, always away from his eyes. Abigail felt helpless and feared what would happen when her father wasn't around to protect her. One evening, during a family dinner, Mike made an announcement that would change the course of everyone's lives. He revealed that his company would be opening a branch in another country and that he would need to move for six months to manage this new venture. Abigail sank into her chair at what her father said, but also felt a certain relief, as she knew that her stepmother wouldn't be staying at the house during this period. Before Abigail could get up and leave the table, her father asked her to stay and announced something that left her even more astonished. He said that, as the wedding between him and Lilian was approaching, and considering the closeness between Abigail and her stepmother, Lilian could look after her during his absence. Abigail lost consciousness for a moment, unable to process what was happening. Still half-stunned by the shock of her father's announcement, Abigail was still dizzy when Lilian broke the silence and said: "You wanted to go to bed at that time, didn't you, Abigail? I'll take you." Abigail wanted to refuse, but some part of her, perhaps the fear of confronting Lilian, made her agree. "Yes, let's go," she said, holding out her hand to Lilian, who promptly took it. The two went up the stairs together, arriving at Abigail's room. The room still bore traces of the girl's childhood, even though she had long since outgrown that phase. Toys scattered around the room, walls painted in pastel colors and a small closet full of children's clothes gave the place an atmosphere that no longer matched Abigail's age. Lílian selected an outfit for Abigail, chosen from among the pieces she had bought months ago, clothes that were more reminiscent of a child's style. She picked out a light blue sweater with floral prints. Abigail allowed Lilian to help her put it on, feeling uncomfortable. After covering Abigail with the blanket, Lilian approached and said, with a tone of veiled threat: "Little one, I have a deal for you. If you wake up dry tomorrow, I won't do anything to you. But if you wake up wet, there will be changes in this house." Abigail, aware that this was her only chance of avoiding trouble, decided to accept the deal. With a little hesitation, she murmured: "Yes.”

Still working on sequels to A Change Would Do You Good and The Academy at Red Hills. In the meantime, I've been working on a few short stories to share! Here's a fun Mechanical Nursery story with a pair of snooping friends and an evil stepmother. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER ONE “So, what do you think is in here, Kayla?” “I honestly have no idea. Rebecca is so weird. She hides out in here a lot while my dad is away for business. I swear, I thought she just married him to be a trophy wife but she’s just…so weird.” Kayla turned on the light to the large building that Rebecca had erected behind their estate. She had originally pitched it as a she-shed but the finished product was closer in size to a guest house. Eventually, curiosity had gotten the best of Kayla and she convinced Jenna to sneak in one night to explore. The two friends weren’t quite sure what they were looking at. Some sort of conveyor belt took up the middle of the space and fed into a giant plexiglass cage that took up the majority of the room. There looked to be a big control panel on a raised platform overlooking everything else. It looked clean…sterile…boring. “Is she making something? There’s nothing here. I don’t get it.” Jenna walked towards the enclosure and tapped on the glass as she looked inside. It was empty, like a giant aquarium waiting to be filled. “This part definitely looks to be the controls. Maybe we can turn it on and see what happens?” Jenna and Kayla climbed the small set of stairs to the control panel and looked for a way to turn the machine on. Jenna noticed a small key towards the top and tentatively twisted it while shrugging at Kayla with a sly smile. The conveyor belt sprang to life and started slowly chugging along. Kayla and Jenna winced and prepared for the worst but nothing else happened. So far this whole thing had been a bit of a letdown. As Jenna descended the stairs to continue exploring, Kayla followed close behind while looking over her shoulder to make sure that her stepmother hadn’t returned to catch them in the act. The bumbling blonde didn’t notice that her friend paused at the bottom and the momentum of their collision carried them forward as they both tumbled onto the moving belt. “Oof! Watch where you’re going, Kayla!” “Occupants Detected. Initiating Safety Protocol.” Jenna was dazed from being launched onto the belt and looked to see where the robotic voice was coming from. As she moved to a seated position she felt Kayla grab her arm and turned to push her away. But when she looked down, it wasn’t Kayla’s arm at all. Strange robotic arms had risen from below the belt and now had a grip on both of her arms. Turning behind her, she saw that Kayla was also fighting to free herself from their tight mechanical grip. “Hey! Stop it! Kayla, what is this?!” Jenna thrashed and was flipped head first onto the belt to face her fearful friend. Within seconds both girls were forced to lay on their backs as the conveyor belt continued its maddeningly slow crawl through the room. “Occupants Secure. Initiating Garment Removal Process.” “Wait…what?!” Kayla began to thrash and lifted her head to see what all the fuss was about and was surprised to see that Jenna had been spun around to face her. A small container was placed between their feet and Kayla watched as both of Jenna’s shoes landed in the container and watched her fight as her tight jeans were peeled off of her legs. Jenna’s legs were lifted straight into the air as her black panties were removed and Kayla saw a side of her friend that she had never seen before. Jenna was bare from the waist down and too shocked to make a sound. Kayla made up for it as she screamed and continued to pull against the strict hold of the mechanical arms not wanting to meet a similar fate as her friend. As Jenna was pulled into a seated position for her top to be lifted over her head, she was given a clear view of her friend’s disgrace until they were both completely naked and sitting toe to toe. They each took a moment to briefly study the other’s nude form before making awkward eye contact and looking away. “Jen, what are we going to do?!” “Don’t ask me! What the fuck is you’re crazy stepmom up to in here?!” “Scan complete. Beginning cleansing and hair removal process.” “I don’t like the sound of that!” Both girls had their arms lifted into the air as they were given an unwanted spongebath by sentient robot hands. They giggled and shouted as their underarms were washed and moaned and looked away from each other as each breast was carefully and meticulously scrubbed. Their arms were pulled and held down over their heads as they were both forced to lay on their backs on the conveyor belt before their legs were lifted high into the air for the cleansing process to continue. The mechanical hands proved to be very nimble and thorough as the two lifelong friends bore the indignity of having their nethers cleaned in front of each other. Through clenched fists, Kayla and Jenna squealed as the sponges were exchanged for cool shaving cream and screamed indignantly as each had her womanhood shaved away one strip at a time until they were both completely bare. “Commencing health check.” Kayla raised her head to look at her friend through her raised legs. “What does THAT mean?” “No, no, no, no, Nooooo!!!” Jenna squealed as the thermometer entered her smooth bottom without warning. She looked up to see an identical thermometer poking out of her friend’s bare ass. “Ugh!!!” Thermometers removed, both girls were given a clean bill of health as the conveyor belt inched forward. “I’m going to fucking kill you Jenna! Why do I let you talk me into this stuff?” “Me?! This was YOUR idea, bitch!” “Inappropriate language detected. Initiating Pacification Protocol.” “Pacification protocol? What the…mmmph!” Kayla raised her head to check on her friend and was met with a pacifier aimed directly towards her mouth. She tried to duck away but was no match for the machine and both friends found themselves pacified and fuming. As soon as the mechanical hands released their grip, both girls spit out the pacifiers and raised their heads to look at each other through their raised legs. Jenna was about to speak when she was interrupted by the voice of their mechanical overlord. “Pacification rejected. Disciplinary Action required.” Jenna’s eyes grew wide as she saw the wooden paddle being raised behind Kayla’s head. Seeing Kayla’s shaking head and wide eyes, she correctly assumed that a similar paddle was heading in her direction. “No! Please! No!!!” SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! The paddles alternated from one girl to the other, as both girl’s smooth bottoms were spanked for the first time in their privileged lives. SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! “Owww!!! Oh god… stop…please!!!” The paddles retreated and pacifiers were lifted back to each girl’s bewildered face. Kayla looked to Jenna who had already accepted hers and decided it wasn’t worth risking another spanking as she begrudgingly accepted the rubber bulb into her mouth. They stared at each other for a moment, tear filled eyes behind plastic mouthguards designed to keep them quiet and compliant. Kayla laid her head back down first, resigned to whatever would come next. Jenna saw the box of supplies coming over her head before it was announced. “Pacification complete. Initiate Dressing Protocol.” Jenna laid her head down and stared at the ceiling as the box of supplies was pulled over her head and landed between the two pacified and exposed girls. She closed her eyes and tried to remember some of the deep breathing exercises she had learned during a yoga retreat in Bali. The rustling and crinkling noise pulled her from her trance and no amount of breathing exercises prepared her for what she saw next. Two sets of hands were rubbing large diapers back and forth, fluffing them to invite more and more poof. Though she had never seen a diaper that big before she somehow knew that they would inevitably fit her and her involuntarily infantile playmate. Kayla looked up and sighed. With the pacifier in her mouth she guessed that she shouldn’t have been surprised and her sore bottom was a reminder that there was no use trying to fight this machine. If this crazy gadget wanted her and her friend in diapers, then they were going to find themselves with padded bottoms sooner rather than later. Their toned bottoms were raised simultaneously as the thick padding was placed beneath them. Soft sweet-smelling powder fluttered down onto their freshly shaven bodies and the familiar ripping sounds of tape let them know that their degradation was almost complete. Once the girls were firmly taped into their first diaper in decades, they were pulled to a seating position to face each other. Each looked down at her own diaper before looking across to her friend and blushing. Their arms were pulled skyward as they were finally given a bit of modesty in almost identical tops: pink for Jenna and purple for Kayla. The obscenely adorable tops barely came down to the bottom of their breasts leaving their full midriff exposed. The friends pouted at each other behind their pacifiers as their hair was brushed and pulled into braided pigtails with matching ribbons. As they neared the end of the conveyor belt, each girl was also fitted with matching padded mittens and booties, ensuring that they would be unable to remove any of their new wardrobe or get into any trouble. Jenna and Kayla were lifted under the arms from the end of the conveyor belt and placed into the empty glass prison. They stared at each other in utter confusion and disbelief as the mechanical arms rescinded and they were left alone where they didn’t dare move for several minutes. Kayla decided to risk it first as she spit out her pacifier and let it dangle from the clip attached to her purple top. Both girls froze in place as they waited to see if they would be punished again for disobeying. After a few moments of nervous silence, Jenna also spit out her pacifier. “What are we going to do?” Kalya prodded at her diaper with her locking mitts and shrugged. “Hello girls! Are we having fun?” Both girls struggled to their feet and fought to maintain their balance in padded booties as they looked towards the control panel. “Rebecca! What the fuck is this place? Why are you doing this?!” “Oh, I’m not doing anything…at least not yet…you brought all of this on yourselves by snooping around where you don’t belong.” “Let us out of here!” “Yeah, this is weird! Come on!” Rebecca cackled, glad to finally put these two brats in their proper place. “I’ve been looking for a way to further my experiments and then you two fall directly into my lap. Kayla, I’ve been wanting to take your bratty ass over my knee since I married your father and Jenna has been such a bad influence on you that I think a weekend in puffy diapers is exactly what her cute little bottom needs.” “You bitch!” “Did she say a weekend?” The evil stepmother leaned back in her chair and put her hands behind her head before leaning forward to press the microphone button again. “The cube you find yourself in is perfectly sealed with a locking timer to ensure proper protocol is followed. It will not release for 72 hours and the only way in or out is via that conveyor belt with my mechanical friends.” Rebecca looked down at the two friends and tried to decipher if their pouty expressions leaned more toward fear or indignation. Either way, she was going to enjoy the hell out of this. “Yes, the three of us are going to have a lot of fun together. I have so many fun surprises in store for you!”

Hi guys! Here's my newest story. Hope you like it. If you want to read my entire catalog of role reversals, regressed mothers, diapered cuckolds, and more, check out my new Subscribestar account: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter Chapter One Camille's Plan Camille never imagined she’d have to share her father with someone young enough to be her little sister. Yet there Anya was — radiant in her pastel pink sundress, lips glossed, curls bouncing as she hummed in the kitchen. Camille watched from the dining room with a clenched jaw, her manicured fingers curled tightly around the stem of her wine glass. Anya always made everything look effortless. That morning, she'd prepared a French-style breakfast — flaky croissants, poached eggs, and delicate little fruit tarts. It was the kind of thing Camille’s mother used to make before she passed away five years ago. Anya didn’t know that, of course. Or maybe she did. Robert, Camille’s father, sat at the head of the table, reading the newspaper's financial section like it was the gospel. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, his suit immaculate despite it being a Sunday. He glanced over his reading glasses at Camille, then at Anya, who was setting down a plate with practiced elegance. Camille wasn’t a morning person, but made it a point to arrive for breakfast whenever her father was in town. It wasn’t about the food — Anya’s Pinterest-perfect meals were always too sweet, too curated. It was about presence. She needed her father to see that she was still the one who held the household together. Or used to. Robert folded his napkin and set it beside his untouched croissant. “I’ll be flying out tomorrow. Singapore again. This one might be a long haul — eight weeks, maybe more.” Camille, in the middle of stirring cream into her coffee, paused. “Eight weeks?” He nodded. “The acquisition’s messier than I expected.” She blinked. “And you’re just telling us now?” Robert raised a brow. “It’s not a vacation, Camille. It’s work. You’ll manage just fine, like always.” Camille leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “So I assume I’ll be keeping things in order while you’re gone.” Robert took a sip from his espresso. “Actually, no. Anya will be in charge this time.” The air shifted. Camille stared at her father like he’d grown a second head. “You’re joking.” Anya, seated quietly with a peach in hand, looked up in surprise. Robert continued, calm and final. “I figured it was time we gave her a chance. After all, this is also her home now.” “A chance?” Camille echoed. “She doesn’t even work, Dad. She spends her days rearranging throw pillows and naming the squirrels in the backyard.” Anya blushed but said nothing. Robert’s tone cooled. “She’s my wife, Camille. And she’s more than capable.” Camille laughed, a brittle sound. “She’s twenty-two.” “And?” “She’s a child. You’re handing the house over to a child.” Anya’s eyes flicked down to her plate. She probably tried to say something, but Robert’s voice replied, “That’s enough.” Camille ignored him. “You don’t see it, but everyone else does. The maid, the driver, hell, even the neighbor’s kids probably know—” “I said that’s enough!” Robert stood from the table, his chair scraping sharply against the tile “You will not speak to my wife like that.” “She’s not your wife, she’s your—” “Camille.” His voice dropped an octave “Apologize. Right now.” Camille scoffed, incredulous. “You’re taking her side?” “I’m not picking sides. I’m reminding you how to behave like an adult.” “Robert,” Anya said, “It’s not necessary.” “I believe it is, darling,” Robert didn’t take his eyes off his daughter. “We are waiting, Camille.” She pushed back her chair, heat rising in her chest. “Unbelievable.” “Apologize. Now!” Camille looked at Anya. Her wide hazel eyes, dewy with embarrassment. The soft baby-pink headband she wore. She looked like a child playing dress-up. And she was supposed to be in charge? Camille’s jaw clenched. Her father waited. “I’m sorry,” she said, forcing each word out like venom. “If she’s my wife and you call me Daddy…what do you think you should address Anya from now on?” Anya’s face turned crimson. Camille looked at Anya. Her wide hazel eyes were dewy with embarrassment, and her soft baby-pink headband made her look like a child playing dress-up. She then glared at her father. “I’m waiting, Camille.” The older of the two women sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry,” she paused, “Mommy.” Robert sat back down. “There. That wasn’t so hard.” Camille didn’t respond. She walked away, heels clicking sharply down the hall. Not a single look back. Her bedroom door slammed shut behind her. Camille paced, fingers twitching, adrenaline still surging in her blood. Put Anya in charge? Of the estate that is supposed to be hers? Of the staff who answered to her for over a decade? Her father might as well have handed over the deed to a toddler. That’s when it hit her. She knew Anya couldn’t do anything but play and watch videos on her phone. It was her generation, after all. All of them were spoiled kids, and if her Daddy couldn’t see it, Camille would make sure everyone else did. Camille smiled, the kind that never reached her eyes. She had two months to turn her perfect stepmother into a babbling toddler. That would teach everyone. Two months of changing diapers, preparing bottles, and selecting cute outfits. Let’s do it, she told herself.

Kate had left her laptop at the office, and her phone was acting up. She always hated going into her step-sons messy room, but she really needed to send this email. She navigated the piles of dirty clothes, and tried not to breathe through her mouth. "How can somebody live like this?" She thought. "We are going to have a serious talk about this." She grimaced, as she cleared the immediate desk space of empty soda cans, and various wrappers. She was happy his computer was so nice, and booted up quickly. A Google doc was onscreen when the moniter blinked to life. She tried to minimize it, she wasn't there to snoop. Her perifial vision caught the big bold letters before she managed though, and her brain couldn't help but spell them out for her. "Oh my!" She squeaked. Cheeks turning red. Diapered by my Step Mom Chapter One She knew she should just close the window, but her curiosity got the best of her… My Step Mom Kate, is so gorgeous. She's a big curvy woman, but not fat - by anyone's standards. She still has a tight waist, for all those curves she has. I'm pretty sure Pixar owes her some heafty royalties, for borrowing her likeness. Her bras are all DD, but they barely contain her perfect breasts. And she should have a CDL for that dump truck she drove around all day. She always bosses me around, and treats me like a kid still. Even though I'm 24. "It's a bit mosaganisic, but I guess it's kind of flattering." She laughed. It was no secret Chris thought she was hot. She would catch him staring at her all the time. "And maybe I wouldn't treat you like a kid, if you didn't act like one." She thought, before reading it on screen. She always tells me that if I would start acting my age, then she'd treat me like an adult. Little did she know that I didn't want her to treat me like an adult at all. "I wonder how she will treat me after this?" I thought. As I relaxed my muscles and wet my bed. I fell asleep in my wet sheets. Knowing that Kate would come wake me up, and find me. Kate was flabbergasted. It was like a trainwreck, she couldn't look away. She scrolled down a bit further to see how much of this story was written. Then one afternoon, after experiencing a few more embarrassing mornings like the first, Kate sat me down for a talk. I acted like I didn't want to wear them, but my heart jumped for joy when she pulled out the package of diapers. They weren't the pull-up kind either. I would have to be taped into them. Like a little baby. "I don't even know how to use those. I've never changed a diaper." I argued - fishing for her to offer her assistance. A performance worthy of an Oscar. It was like music to my ears when she started talking. "Well… that's no excuse. I've changed lots of them in my day. Come on, lay down." Kate's phone went off, startling her back to reality. It was her secretary asking for the email, again. "Oh shoot!" She was so entertained with the story, that she completely forgot what she was in there for. She quickly sent the email, and noticed the time. There was no way she would be able to finish the whole story before Chris came home. She sent a second email, to herself this time, and put the computer back to sleep. In the kitchen, Kate found herself quite flushed, thinking about what she had just read. "I'm not… I wouldn't actually…" she poured a glass of wine, and started sifting through all the thoughts racing around her head. It wasn't long before Chris was pulling up the drive. Her phone chirped, as he walked in the door. It was the email she had sent herself. "About time!" She said. "I just got off practice, and there was traffic." Chris said, somewhat puzzled. It was only a few minutes later than he normally arrived. "Oh… not you. My phone was acting up all day, I just started getting my emails on it again." Kate said. "I'm going to go upstairs, and read for a little bit. Don't run off though. I want to have a talk with you in a little bit. There's pizza in the fridge." Chris rolled his eyes. "I was going to meet Shayna at the cafe though." He groaned. "Well how about you clean your room up a bit first? I'll be down to have that talk in a little bit." Kate didn't know what she was going to say to him yet. She wanted to read more, before she made any decisions. "Are you serious! I'll do it later!" Chris groaned again, throwing his backpack to the floor. Kate would normally get annoyed with such a reaction. But all she could see was a toddler throwing a tantrum now. "If you don't clean it, then I will." Kate said. "Great, thank!" Chris yellped. "I'll see you later!" He then thought about the diapers he had hidden in the closest. And the several wet ones stashed under his bed that he hadn't found time to properly dispose of. "Actually. I'll start now, she isn't going to be at the cafe for another hour." In her room, Kate lay on her bed. Reading more. With every word she fell more in love with the idea. The further she read, the further she realized it was litterally a playbook to make her step son behave. Her friends were all over for their weekly wine night. They get together every Friday. I always sneek some, when they aren't looking. It was probably the wine, but who's to say. I made sure to do it when they all could see me. "Oh Chris!" Kate's friend Tiffany shouted. "Kate! Chris is…" she just pointed at me. As a dark stain grew down my jeans. Kate took me by the arm and drug me to my room. She was so mad at me. "This is so embarrassing. In front of my friends? Do you seriously need diapers all the time?" She yelled at me, as she pushed me on my bed, and pulled off my wet clothes. "I wonder what your friends will think of your diapers?" She asked as she tapped one around me. "My friends?!?" I quailed. Not thinking my little scheme would ever bleed into my social life. As much as I wanted her to diaper me. I didn't want my friends to know. Most of all my girlfriend Shayna. "You seriously think you're going to wear anything else after that? So embarrassing." "No!" I cried. It was just an accident. I don't actually need to wear them all the time. It was just an accident." I realized then, that I may have flew to close to the sun. "Well let's just see if you can be a big boy for the weekend. And we will talk about what you'll wear to school on Monday." Kate was enamoured with the idea of having her step son under her thumb. Chris apparently had mixed feelings. I hated that I had to do everything she said now. I had really enjoyed just acting like an immature little brat. But, it's not like I never had a fantasy where Kate was a stern mommy... That weekend was all… 'yes Mam, I'll do the dishes' and 'yes Mam, I'll clean my room.' as annoying as it was, I could still relish in my victory. I just hope I get out of them in time. Kate had already resigned to putting him back in diapers. She honestly couldn't shake the thoughts, since they started pouring in this afternoon. But now… she started to form a plan that would work in her favor. She met Chris downstairs, just as he was hauling a big trash bag out of his room. If she knew it was full of dirty diapers, she would have just started then. "Oh wow! I didn't really expect you to actually clean your room up." "Mostly. I'll finish when I get back. Unless you still wanted to clean the rest?" Chris smiled. Pretending it was a joke. Knowing full well he would love to not have to clean up after himself ever again. "We'll see how I feel when I get back from the store. But if you need your mommy to clean your room for you, I don't know how you expect me to let you keep going on dates." Kate jested. "Okay…" Chris stammered, his cheeks flushed red. Kate could tell he liked that she talked to him like that. "Okay. Well… like I said, I'll clean it when I get back." "Ten o'clock!" Kate yelled, as he raced out the door. As much as Kate wanted to throw a diaper on him the second he got home, she didn't want him to think this was her idea. Even if the thought of him as an obedient little diaper boy got her excited, it was part of her plan to wait… The next few nights, Kate made sure Chris didn't wake up dry. Sneaking melatonin into his dinners, and skulking into his room with a warm bowl of water in the middle of the night. She half expected him to jump right into it, but he seemed genuinely embarrassed every morning. "Uh oh! It looks like we had another accident!" Chris woke up to his step mom in his room again. "I… I'm sorry Kate!" Chris whined. His embarrassment was indeed real, wether he pleasured himself to the awful show every night or not. "Well… I know you are sorry. But I really think it's time we talk about some protection. I don't want to be cleaning this mess up every morning." Kate kept stern eye contact as she suggested diapering her step son. "Like… diapers?" Chris choked. He couldn't believe he was really having this conversation. It was his fantasy, but he was too embarrassed to enjoy it. "It's okay. You just haven't woke up dry at all this week. I already bought some." Kate smiled. "You don't have to wear them untill tonight."

🧸🧷🧸 PART I THE FIRST ACCIDENT, OF A SECOND DIAPERING "Nah nah nah, uh uh… Where do you think you are going? Do you see your nephew climbing over the gate? You are supposed to ask for help. Seriously, how is a 3 year old more well behaved than you? Now get back in there with all of the other jobless freeloaders." Stephanie laughed, gesturing for her step son to rejoin his two young cousins in the playpen. "Hey! Bella isn't a jobless freeloader. She still gets royalty checks for that Gerber ad she was in last year!" Kate huffed, quickly coming to her daughter's defense. "How bout that, two times already today that a toddler proved they are more of an adult than you. HaHaHa. I really think this baby punishment was the right move Mom. For sure. The playpen is definitely more his speed. You should have seen how stupid he used to make himself look at the clubs." Kate started talking to her mom about her brother like he wasn't right there. "It's not BABY PUNISHMENT, It's regression therapy. And I wouldn't even be doing it, if it wasn't court ordered!" Chris hated that his sister got away Scott free, and he got passed all the blame for burning down the neighbors barn full of antique tractors last summer. "I have to go to the bathroom. And I'm already out here, can I just go?" "How are you ever going to learn to be a respectful young man, if I keep letting you get away with stuff like this?" Stephanie rested her hands on her hips. And sternly glared at her stepson. "Now get back in that playpen and ask for help if you need to make potty." "I need to go to the bafroom!" Bella shouted from the playpen. Okay then, let's go then. Thank you for asking. Who's my big girl!" Kate cooed as she lifted her daughter over the gate, and walked her towards the bathroom. "I'm so proud of you. I bet by the end of the month you will be wearing pig girl undies like your big sister!" "That's not fair! I asked first!" Chris shouted. Angry that the only toilet in the house was now occupied. and, Annoyed that his 3 year old cousin was going to make it out of pull ups before him. "I really need to go!" "Well you actually didn't ask. So let's start with that shall we?" Stephanie said waiving her hands, ushering her stepson back into the playpen. "Stephanie please! I really need to go to the bathroom." Chris sighed after climbing back into the childish play area. "Can I please go first? I will be quick." He pleaded. Already starting to wiggle behind his discomfort. "Are you seriously going to make it three times in an hour, and prove that you can't even hold your wee wee long enough for your cousin to go potty?" Kate huffed, as she lifted Bella onto the toilet, and shut the bathroom door. "Stephanie! Can I just go out back?" Chris urgently asked, dancing on his tippy toes, holding his crotch behind white knuckles. "And give Mrs. Martin another reason to complain to the neighborhood watch? I don't think so!" Stephanie quickly denied. "If you can't hold it, just go. You are literally wearing a toilet!" She laughed. She didn't take as much joy in her step-son's embarrassing penance as her daughter Kate, but she sometimes could help but just laugh at him. "What is taking so long?" Chris was at the bathroom door now. "I'm coming in!" Chris shouted excitedly. as the first little spurt of pee escaped into his pull-up. Only to be met by the firm unbudging weight of a locked handle. "Jesus Chris! Hold on. Bella is a little constipated. I told her not to eat all that cheese." Kate hollered from behind the door. "Just listen to Mom, and go in your diapers. It isn't healthy to hold your pee in this long." Tears were welling in his eyes, as the first battle was lost. "I don't wear diapers, and you know I don't really use them!" Which was true, until about 6 seconds ago. Tears rolled down his face, as he flooded his pull-up. But that wasn't the worst part. "Please! If she's constipated, just take her off the toilet for a minute, and let me use it! I am very very NOT constipated!!!" Chris shouted. Painfully aware that he had very little time before this little accident became much bigger. "Uh-oh. I think he's trying to say he needs to go number 2. I was wondering why he is still doing his little potty dance." Stephanie said. "What do you mean, you were wondering why he is STILL doing his potty dance. Is there a reason he should have stopped? I can only think of one reason someone stops doing a potty dance." Kate was laughing hysterically. "Did he really just pee his pants out there?" "Well he isn't actually wearing pants. But Im pretty sure his pull up is wet. The little balloons disappeared." Chris didn't even notice Stephanie take a few steps towards him. "Ope, yeah definitely three times. I wonder how many other ways we can find for Chris to come in second to a toddler in the 'im a big kid now' game." Chris jumped back as he felt his stepmoms hand prodding his sodden shame. That was it. Being startled like that was too much for his little sphincter. The second battle had been lost... and, the end of the war was hearalded by a thunderous fart, and a desperate moan. "NOOO!!!" Chris screamed. Hearing the lock click, and door swing open just in time for Kate to wittnes the exhibition. "Thanks alo… uhh.. grrmmpf… a lot!" "Why are you just standing there? I thought you still needed to use the…" Kate stopped talking, as she noticed the strained distant look in her step-brothers eyes. his slightly bent knees, and balled fists. "You are not seriously! Oh my God! Get out of my way! I can already smell it!" Chris tried to get to the toilet and at least get some of the mess into the bowl. "Hmmpppfff… hmmppfffff…" he grunted, only making it another step or two before his body decided it wasn't really worth it. He conceded, and decided to just push the rest out, since it was already coming. The relief felt amazing even though he was about to die from embarrassment. "This is all your fault!" He screamed at Kate, tears still pouring down his face. "How is it my fault that you waited to go to the bathroom this long. You are an adult. You should really be able to have a little more control. This is on you little brother. You pooped your pants, not me." Kate snorted. "Hey! What the fuck!?!" Chris shouted at the flash of Kates camera. "Did you just take a picture?" He asked. Trying to pull his Tshirt down far enough now to cover his soiled diaper. "Uh oh! Uncle Chris, It's okay. My mommy said that it's is. She told me that everyone has an accidents sometimes." Kate was able to avoid the question, as bella approached Chris. Who's knees had buckled under the weight of his Shame, sending him to the floor where he tried not to move, and feel the mess squish more. "Yepp. Everyone has them. Even Santa Clause, and Tinkerbelle, and um… well I don't. I don't go poop in my pants anymore. Because I am a big girl." The two women were laughing hysterically at the young girls savage burns, executed from a place of pure innocence and sincerity. "Please tell me you got that on video, and not just a picture. I think we could win the TikTok with that one!" Stephanie wheezed between laughs. "Geez mom. Your skin says you're still in your 30's but sometimes you really show your age. Nobody 'wins' TikTok. But yes. I do have a video." She opened the file, twisting the knife in Chris's wound. Making him hear it all over again. A fucking 3 year old, reminding him that she doesn't poop her pants as he his litterally sitting in the mess he just made. "Oh yeah. That is perfect! too fucking funny!" She laughed, starting the video again, so Stephanie could watch. After a few screenings, the two ladies had found a calm in the storm of laughter. "Maybe you are right Mom. Maybe this is the video that is going to win the tiktock." "You can't! I DO NOT give you my permission to post a video of me!" Chris tried to act as big as one could, when they are looking up at their mom and sister from the ground, sporting a very full pull-up. "Um… conservatorship. I am literally your legal guardian. I can post all the pictures and videos I want. But I tell you what. If you decide that, after you get cleaned up, you want to start acting like a big kid again, and not someone in the tralls of their terrible twos, I promise I won't post them. Deal?" Stephanie said "I promise! I promise I'll be good!" Chris obviously took the deal. Not only would his friends not see him wearing the same pull ups their all their younger siblings were wearing, it got him in the shower, and away from the twos' infuriatingly embarrassing laughter. "Good, after you get yourself cleaned up, come back to the living room. You can clean up the play area, while we get the twins ready for their naps." Stephanie demanded. Knowing how much Chris hated picking up after himself, let alone a bunch of sticky Rugrats. "Yes mam, I'll be right back down… can I have… a clean pull-up to change into please." Chris nearly choked on the words. But he wanted to be as sincere as possible, until he found a way to delete that video. "I'll bring one up. Just hurry on, and go. You smell absolutely dreadful. Just… hurry up." Stephanie nasally honked, pinching her nose shut, as she helped Chris to his feet with her other hand. "Wow… did you see that attitude change. If I knew making him shit himself was the key to making him more obedient, I would have pumped his breakfast full of laxatives weeks ago. Heck… years ago!" Kate laughed. divulging her morning mischief to her mother, as soon as Chris was out of earshot. "Oh Kate… you didnt!" Stephanie tried to act like she didn't think it was the funniest thing she had heard all week. "I mean… you can't argue results. Do you still have any more laxatives left? In the shower Chris kept wishing he would wake up. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he wasnt dreaming. The nightmare that just unfolded was very much his real life. For the next 32 months anyway. He tried to not let his repulsion to being under the thumb of those two blonde bimbos fester. He knew he had to stay on their good side, as much as he hated it. He let the water run cold as he thought about all the stupid decisions that led him to this point… To be continued… Act II The flashback, and a New Deal

This role play is about a stepdaughter who has to go live with her father and stepmother. I'll play the stepdaughter named kelly.