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Is it haunted?! Cursed?! An SCP?! We don't know, sis, we just gonna have to find out! I hope you enjoy this tricky treat and if you do let me know and if you don't let me know, and if you think Halloween is awesome then you might be a little awesome yourself, and if you think Halloween is stupid and like Christmas is better, we can't be friends, I'm sorry. Dayscare By: The Unknown Author Ouija_Look_At_That has started streaming! “Hola, bitchachos! It’s your fine ass guide to the world of the weird and macabre, Ouija and I am here at the Glenwood Pines Mall for my fourth annual Livescream!” Ouija said in an excited tone. Ouija didn’t look like a guide to the world of the weird and macabre, she didn’t look like she should even be out of bed at nine thirty on a school night, let alone be breaking into a building that had been abandoned for longer than she’d been alive. Standing at an absolutely dizzying four feet six inches and dressed like she’d shoplifted her whole personality from a Hot Topic bargain bin, the edgy streamer made her way through the entry area of the mall as she began her highly anticipated event. “Alright, so in case you’re not hip to the story, this mall used to be THE spot for everyone in the tristate area to come and piss away their time and money.” Ouija explained as she hopped up onto one of the tile benches connected to a large planter in the middle of the entryway, “The mall was so big and so popular that it had its own daycare center, a place called Bright Beginnings.” she continued as she spread her arms out to her sides and walked along the edge of the planter like a balance beam, “The owner and CEO of Bright Beginnings was a woman named Mary Gallagher and literally the only pictures I could find of her made her look like a fucking schoolmarm ghost all full of vengeance and shit.” she said as she reached the end of the planter and hopped down. Ouija’s setup for her exploration was a camera harnessed to her chest so her face was always onscreen and allowed her hands to remain free unless she was using one of her handheld cameras, and another camera attached to her head to allow everyone to see what she saw. On her forearm was a tablet that allowed her to read her chat and switch to whatever camera she wanted as well as playback what they recorded in real time. This was her fourth “livescream’, an event where she went to spooky or allegedly haunted places and explored them with her audience overnight on Halloween. Her record was spotty at best for being the bravest of explorers, her first livescream ending prematurely when she’d tripped over a lip she hadn’t seen in the showers of a women’s insane asylum and broken her camera, her second had gone significantly better despite her wetting herself when a chunk of ceiling crashed down in the room beside her while she was exploring an old doll factory. Last year’s livescream was what had put her on the map though, a flawless exploration of a children’s hospital from around the turn of the century that saw her peak at three thousand live viewers and millions of views after that. No one knew the lengths she’d gone to to make her events perfect, the hours of research and location scouting, the equipment setup, the extra protection she now wore for the event to prevent anyone from finding out she’d wet or soiled herself out of fear, all of it was done for the benefit of her legion of fans and the sizable paycheck she got out of it was a bonus that helped her bruised ego deal with the fact that beneath her dark clothes and tattoos and piercings was a small girl wearing absorbent underwear with childish patterns on them. “Bright Beginnings was nestled between The Cookie Cookery and an upscale pen store called ‘Fountain of Couth’, which is a legit amazing name and was in operation from 1989 to 1993.” she continued explaining as she approached the dilapidated escalators ahead, “An estimated two and a half million kids spent at least one hour at the daycare in those four years, which is a metric fuckton of snotty noses and shitty diapers.” she joked as she assessed the stability of the escalator and opted to take the nearby stairs after noticing significant amounts of rust and decay in the metal steps of the escalator. “I know, you’re probably wondering why the mall itself was abandoned, and we’ll get to that, but before we do, we need to understand what happened at Bright Beginnings that caused such damage to the reputation of the mall.” she continued as she trudged up the stairs, stepping over chunks of ceiling and broken glass as she made her way to the second floor. “Ouija” was obviously not the girl’s given name, but she’d gone to great lengths to keep her identity a secret, and to even greater lengths to keep her former persona and content from being discovered. Two years before she’d “gone to the dark side” and made decaying buildings her playground, she was known to her small band of a dozen or so followers as “Snugglecorn” and focused solely on the ABDL lifestyle and being as cute and sweet as she could for her viewing audience, but then she’d picked up a creeper that had scared her so badly in his attempts to connect with her that she’d purged everything of that life, fallen into a deep depression and become a harder, darker person because of it. It was only when she started seeing success as “Ouija” that she softened and allowed herself to be less severe all the time, adding pink highlights to her ebony locks and finding cute things to wear that also happened to be on the darker side, like the skeletal cat on her sweatshirt that was dribbling milk below it from its open ribcage as it lapped at a saucer. “In 1993, an anonymous tip came in to the police about some weird sounds coming from the owner’s office and lo and behold, they found a door behind the bookcase that led to a whole section of the building no one knew existed.” she explained as she reached the top of the stairs and looked down at the first floor, the pitch black abyss making her shudder softly as she continued on. “In the hidden area they found this entire other daycare setup that was sized for adults and found almost twenty people confined in one way or another inside.” she said as she peered over the railing to the ground below on her way down the length of the upstairs area as she headed toward her destination. Something she’d never told her followers when she’d first stumbled across the Bright Beginnings saga was that she’d been enthralled by the idea that a normal daycare had had a secret adult daycare in back, something that the less than completely vanished from within her Snugglecorn had broken out her pacifier for after her very important grownup work was done, imagining herself in such a place, ignoring the awful aspects of the story in favor of happier fantasy scenarios. “Y’all, when I say shit was fucked up, I mean it was six ways from Sunday bat shit.” she told her audience as she shone her flashlight into the vacant buildings lining the upstairs promenade, “Some people were restrained in cribs, others in highchairs,” she stopped walking, “one report claimed that one of the men had been,” she made a gesture with her index finger and hand to illustrate that an appendage the man had previously had had been removed against his will, “but nothing concrete was ever really said about any of the victims, just that they never spoke again after they were rescued.” she added as she started walking again, looking at her chat as she did. DarkDesire: Hey from Ontario, Ouija! ❤️ Devil’s_Plaything: I heard the place is mad haunted. PanicWithTheCrisco: How did you even get into the mall? News said cops were guarding it because of you. Sad_Tromboner: This place is hella sketch be careful little girl BoneFairy: This better be scarier than the time you shit yourself “Hey, DarkDesire, thanks for joining the fun!” she said with a smile, “DP, I’m hoping it’ll haunted, but nobody died in ‘the incident’, so we may just have dust bunnies and disappointment.” she said to Devil’s_Plaything, a channel regular and one of her biggest supporters, “Cris,” she started, shortening the longer than she wanted to say name of the third commentor, “your girl is extremely crafty and her stealth game is on point.” she finished saying a second before she kicked a beer can she hadn’t seen and sent it rocketing forward where it clanged loudly against the metal railing and fell down to the first floor where it clattered loudly. She stood still with her shoulders hunched and teeth gritted until the sudden noise stopped, “Anyone makes a comment about that, we’re not friends anymore.” she teased as she caught her breath and took stock of just how much she’d peed when the silence was suddenly broken. She rolled her eyes at the last two comments, “I may be a smaller than average girl, but I am NOT a little girl, Tromboner, and fuck you, BoneFairy, I maybe peed a little but in my defense, a fucking whole ass ceiling collapsed like twenty feet from where I was sitting, so I’d say I handled it pretty well.” she said, trying not to get into a fight with randos on the internet, but also setting the record straight before anyone else wanted to act up about her height or the one time she’d had an accident out of fear. BoneFairy: Just saying, maybe keep an eye out for a diaper that got left behind Devil’s_Plaything: Ignore the haters, Ouija, you’re badass for doing this! More responses agreeing with Devil’s_Plaything and shutting down BoneFairy poured in as she continued to walk, “Anyone ever play the game Condemned?” she asked, shining her light into a broken store window with a battered mannequin torso laying face down in the broken glass, “It was this first person game where you go to creepy abandoned places and one of the levels was a department store and psycho ass homeless people wore mannequin masks and stood super still until you walked past.” she explained, a shiver of fear running down her spine as she remembered screaming so loud she woke her parents up and then she slept with the lights on for three days afterward. Ouija was a persona, like Snugglecorn had been, aspects of them were from her real personality, but she was nowhere near as brave in real life as she was when she was Ouija, much the same as she was far less of a baby than she was when she’d been Snugglecorn. Her true personality lived in the space between those two, she embraced her small size and liked to be seen as cute and little, but she also had a penchant for the darker things in life and she’d been contemplating finding a way to allow her to be herself on her channel, but feared losing her audience if she revealed the lighter side of herself to them. She continued forward down the upstairs promenade, shells of stores flanking her, graffiti and broken glass everywhere she looked as her flashlight beam danced over the decayed ruins of the mall, and then she saw her destination looming in the inky blackness and everything became far more real. In the mall, she was just a girl alone in an abandoned building, but Bright Beginnings was a legit crime scene, a place where truly bizarre and unexplained things had happened and somehow she was just now feeling the weight of her choice to visit this place. “Okay, I think I see Bright Beginnings.” she said, struggling to keep her nerves in check so her voice didn’t let everyone watching know that she was really scared now, “Are you guys seeing this?” she asked. The Cookie Cookery had been destroyed by vandals, the menu that had hung on the back wall behind the counter had been smashed and torn down, the counter itself obliterated by a small stack of broken cinderblocks, the appliances gone leaving hanging wires and cracked walls and tiles in their place. Likewise, Fountain of Couth looked like a car had driven through it, the display cases inside smashed to pieces, the sign above the entrance blocking most of the entryway as it dangled lifelessly from the wires that had set it aglow years prior, but Bright Beginnings was in pristine condition. “This place hasn’t been touched.” she said in a hushed tone of transfixed amazement, “I mean, every other place in here looks like it went twelve rounds with a wrecking ball, but Bright Beginnings doesn’t even have dirty windows!” she marveled as she approached the daycare. The front of the daycare had panels of glass ten or so feet high that stretched about ten feet across to allow the shoppers outside to see the playroom in front and to allow the kids to look out if they wanted to, making everything brighter and less like the prison for toddlers a daycare is. The sign above was a cutesy cartoon trio of suns, a mother and father and a baby, the mother sign hovering above pale pink high heels, her face adorned with lipstick and earrings that floated on the side of her head connected to nothing while the father sun had a hat, briefcase and tie to convey how professional he was, and then the baby sun floated between them with a diaper cupping the bottom curve of the baby’s body as he held his parent’s hands, smiling behind his pacifier. C.H.U.D._Nelson: I’m no scientician, but that building shouldn’t be in perfect condition. CrunkBunny: Right?! Even if the people that fucked the rest of this place up didn’t touch it, time would’ve done something to it. SignalFire: RUN OUIJA SHIT IS HAINTED, YO! Ouija wasn’t looking at the comments, she was looking at the front window and approaching it slowly, looking into the playroom beyond as she held her flashlight above her head to shine in. The playroom was immaculate, like normal business would begin the next morning as though decades hadn’t passed without anyone being inside. “Alright, I’m going in, so here’s the rules for the night,” she said, her heart racing with anticipation and fear, “once I’m in, I can’t leave until morning, in addition to periodic polls I’ll be putting up for you guys to vote on, donations of certain amounts will allow you to give me tasks to carry out, which, as always, does not include sex stuff.” she explained, warning the perverts in her chat not to waste their money to try and see her tits. The chat erupted in hundreds of messages of support and excitement as she took a deep breath and went to the front door, placing her hand on the handle and giving a firm tug, only to find the door locked. “Well, that sucks.” she said glumly, giving the bottom of the door a kick, “Maybe there’s an access point from next door.” she mused as she headed toward the Cookie Cookery, stepping through the remains of the splintered counter carefully as she made her way to the back to the storeroom of the bakery, the door hanging limply by one screw in the top hinge, the door itself splintered like Jack Torrence had decided he really needed cookie making supplies suddenly. The storeroom was little more than a closet, broken boxes and debris from whatever had been inside them strewn about the floor, but all Ouija cared about was the metal grate on the back wall that was miraculously undamaged. “Alright, guys, that vent shares a wall with the daycare, so it’s my best shot of getting inside.” she told her audience as she looked around for something to stand on so she could reach the vent to see what she needed to do to open it. She decided to lug a few of the more complete cinderblocks into the storeroom and use them as a base for a metal trashcan she found that was only slightly dented. “Wish me luck!” she said as she climbed up onto the edges of the cinderblocks and then shakily onto the trashcan, rising to a standing position as she balanced on the bottom of the can and reached up to the vent, “Shit, it’s screwed in and I don’t have anything with me to take the screws out!” she lamented, a sour expression on her face as she climbed back down. Defeated, she walked out of the storeroom, “I’m sorry, guys, I guess we’re not going to be able to get in tonight.” she informed her audience glumly as she saw her viewer count begin to drop as negative comments poured in slamming her for her various failures with regards to prep and scouting. QueenShark: Umm, the door is open? Ouija read the comment and the numerous others echoing it, in addition to the spams of “OMG look out behind you, they have a knife” and turned to see the front door of the daycare standing open, “What the actual-” she whispered as she cautiously approached the open door, moving far from it as she went in case someone jumped out at her as she shone her light into the building beyond, “You guys heard me try the door, it was locked.” she said. YourMomIsMySideChick: Yeah, I wouldn’t… “Okay, I know it’s super fucking weird and not at all normal, but if it means we can go in, I’m going in.” Ouija said as she took a few steps forward, scanning the area around her and looking through the front window for any sign that someone was waiting for her. The difference between the mall outside and the interior of the daycare was something she’d never experienced before, she’d gone from outside of a creepy building to inside and felt the heaviness of the place close in around her, the staleness of the air suffocate her, but this was new. The mall had felt hollow, like the decaying shell that it was, it smelled dirty and dusty and was chilly because of numerous broken windows that allowed the Fall night air to compromise the otherwise enclosed space, but Bright Beginnings was warm, like the heat was running to combat the chill. Crossing the threshold was like stepping into a hermetically sealed space that hadn’t appeared to age or decay in any way that she could see. Her light danced from place to place in the entryway, to her right was the check in counter, cream colored Formica and yellow pine waiting to receive the patrons of the establishment with messages taped to the counter’s surface and a silver bell with a little sign that cheerfully requested someone ring the bell for assistance. Across from the counter was a cutout with a narrow bench built into it, cubbies beneath for shoes, some still containing little shoes left behind when the daycare had been suddenly shut down. Behind the counter was a line of hooks for coats, with several hooks still containing small jackets of various bright colors, and even a few umbrellas and hats. “This is fucking creepy.” she said softly as she shone her light around to the other side of the entryway to the four or so foot high wall with a thin wooden top and a small door in the middle, the set up making her think of a bar or a skating rink or something, a way to keep the little one’s corralled but also allow parents to look in on the kids at pick up or drop off times. She closed and locked the front door behind her, to keep anyone from coming in from outside, and made her way to the little door, she felt her cheeks flush at the knowledge that she’d have to go through it because she couldn’t actually see over the wall to the playroom on the other side, and took hold of the knob and gave it a little turn and letting gravity take over as the door gently moved away from her to allow her access. Beyond the little wall, the playroom sat silent and dark, bins of various sizes lined the walls, some with closed lids and some with toys piled high or spilling over. The expansive open area was littered with toys for various stages of development, the little art table in the corner still had open coloring books and loose crayons on it, one of the chairs laying on its back on the floor as though the occupant had literally jumped up and run from the place. BabaYaga: It’s like a time capsule. Ouija nodded when she read the comment, “Nothing about this place feels like it’s been abandoned for decades.” she said in disbelief. The little door gently struck the wall when it reached its fully open position and she jumped and spun around to shine her light on it, chuckling nervously as she closed the door to keep it from banging again later. The thing that struck her was the smell, she’d been in abandoned buildings before, and they all had some degree of must, moldy walls or floors, standing water, something pungent that made her breathe through her mouth for the duration of her investigations, but this place smelled like a daycare, she smelled baby powder and plastic and cleaning supplies used to disinfect toys and surfaces, she smelled warmth and life and care, like a home would smell. She’d claimed the place creeped her out for the benefit of her audience, but really, apart from being dark and knowing something fucked up had happened in the back room, she felt safer here than she’d ever felt during her other investigations. Devil’s_Plaything: Heads up, Ouija, but I hit up your socials to let people know you got in, I saw that some people left after the vent didn’t work. She smiled, “Thanks, DP, I really appreciate it!” she said, making her way to the row of low cabinets to set her camera down, “I guess we’ll take a small break here to wait for people to come back.” she said, looking around the room, “I’m going to set up a few cameras in here so we have other angles and see if I can find a ladies room before we start.” she explained as she took her backpack off and set it down to get set up. ********** The audience had not just returned to its former glory, but had nearly doubled in the time it took her to set up her stationary cameras to allow for the whole main room to be visible. She’d found the staff bathroom, but the door had been locked, so she’d simply taken a moment to relieve herself in her pull-up and change into a fresh one off camera. With everything ready to go, she picked her camera back up and put her headset camera back on. “Alright, everyone, we’re here in Bright Beginnings, the abandoned daycare that allegedly housed a secret adult nursery in the back room, and I’m ready to explore this place, how about you?” she asked the audience, nodding and smiling as hundreds of comments agreeing with her poured in. Off the playroom was a corridor that led to a small kitchen/break area on the right, a bathroom for the kids on the left with a trough sink and half a dozen partitioned alcoves with plastic potties set up in them. She felt a pang of shame at having willingly wet her pull-up when she could’ve peed in either the sink or one of the potties, but shame was a big turn on for her, so she chose to enjoy the feeling rather than be self conscious about it. At the end of the corridor was the locked staff bathroom, and just to the right of that was a closet. “So, the kitchen/break area smells like burnt popcorn, fucking Deborah and her blind trust that the popcorn button on the microwave would do its job.” she joked as she panned her light and camera around the small room before making her way to the cabinets, opening the ones below that she could reach to reveal exactly what you’d expect to find, supplies for the kids meals, plastic baggies, containers of dry cereal, cans of fruits and veggies, paper towels. One of the chairs allowed her access to the higher cabinets which she found contained babyfood, coffee cups, bottles and sippy cups, nothing out of the ordinary. On the counter was a wicker basket piled high with folded bibs and in the corner beside the trash can was a stacked washer and dryer and a laundry basket with soiled bibs and blankets and even a few articles of kids clothes. She went to the fridge and opened it, shining her light into the dark appliance at the juices and veggies and things for fresh snacks as well as bottles with tape on them and names written in sharpie to denote which child got which bottle. The middle shelf was full of medicine, also labeled for the appropriate child, and the top shelf was for the workers lunches and drinks. “Shouldn’t this all be rotten and just a fucking nightmare?” she wondered, reaching in and picking up a container of juice that was shockingly still cold. “Okay, this is cold, you guys.” she said, “This place doesn’t have power though, I checked.” she explained. Comments flooded in about ghosts and someone being behind her with a knife as she left the kitchen for the bathroom across the hall, where jokes about her height and youthful appearance began, taunts about her accident prone previous adventures and jabs about her ability to use the toilet made her roll her eyes as she gave a cursory inspection of the room for the audience and continued to the closet beside the employee bathroom. She had legitimately never seen so many diapers in her entire life, unopened packages of diapers and training pants stacked on the floor below the bottom shelf, the bottom shelf designated for the largest size baby diapers and getting smaller as the shelves went up. BoneFairy: There’s the closet you’ve been looking for! BoneFairy: We promise to all look away while you change. She shut the closet door and sighed, “Look, man, I know you think you’re hilarious or whatever, but it’s kind of sad that you think it’s funny to belittle someone for something as lame as accidentally peeing her pants because she was scared.” she explained. BoneFairy: You’re right, babies like you can’t help that kind of thing, I’m sorry. She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, this is all just normal daycare stuff, nothing crazy or weird, so we’re gonna see if we can’t find that office.” she explained. SnuggleCorn: Movement in the playroom. She read the comment and was mildly alarmed at the news that something had triggered the camera in the playroom, but the name of the user was what sent a chill down her spine, someone was using her name from her AB account and sure, it might just be coincidence, but what if all the teasing about her needing a diaper was really subtly hinting at the knowledge of what she really was and had done in the past. Staying silent, she checked the camera on the tablet on her wrist, and couldn’t see anything at first, and then she noticed that the chunky little plastic chair that had been on its back near the art table was now upright and pushed in neatly. “Okay, that’s not good.” she said, heading out to the playroom to shine her light around. “Hello?!” she called out, “If anyone is here, please show yourself or let me know that you’re here in some way!” she requested. Silence filled the room and nothing moved as she continued to pan her light around, stopping on the overflowing toybox when tinny music began to emanate from within the box, muffled by all the toys on top of whatever was making the music. Her heart was racing as she approached the box, a purple stuffed rabbit on top of the pile staring vacantly at her with its hard plastic eyes. She shook her head and stopped, “No, I need to find the office.” she told herself as she turned away from the box, noting that the music stopped playing once she began to walk away. Beyond the playroom and the hallway she’d previously explored was an area behind an accordion door that was partially open, the room on the other side lined with cribs on the wall to her left and little cots with pillows and blankets on them to her right. “Okay, so this is the nap time room it seems.” she said, her light casting eerie barred shadows on the wall behind the cribs as she scanned the row and swung her light to the other side to look at the cots and the foam mats beneath them in case the kids rolled off them in their sleep. At the opposite end of the room was a closed door that had to be the office, and she found herself blindly hurrying toward it when she tripped over something and fell flat on her face on the thick foam padding she hadn’t realized extended out into the walkway creating a barrier of sorts to separate the adult traveling area and the children’s traveling area. She’d bit her tongue when she fell, and it took everything in her not to cry at how badly she’d hurt herself, but she soldiered on, getting up on her hands and knees and then to her knees and then fully upright on the squishy floor. SnuggleCorn: Careful, Ouija BoneFairy: Maybe stick to crawling? She seethed as she checked the floor for more hazards and continued on toward the door, leaving the section of padding for the normal carpeted floor as she neared the door and quickly placed her hand on the knob to open it, finding it motionless no matter which way she turned it, “Docked.” she said, blushing furiously at how stupid and infantile she sounded because of her injured tongue. BoneFairy: What was that, sweetie? Devil’s_Plaything: Knock it off, she fell, leave her alone! Ouija felt a swell of littleness at her biggest supporter rushing to her defense, her tongue injury keeping her from doing so herself without further embarrassing herself, and found herself wishing she could take a break to tend to her aching tongue and maybe find a pacifier to suck on to get herself calmed down and back to center, but she was live and the show had to go on regardless. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 to challenge Ouija to “spend five minutes in one of the cribs” If she hadn’t already done so, she would’ve bitten her tongue to keep from laying into whoever was behind this person that clearly knew of her previous persona and wanted to humiliate her in her current one. BoneFairy has donated $500 to challenge Ouija to: “drink a bottle from the fridge” The pain of biting her tongue combined with the shock of falling, being protected from her bullies by DP, and now these humiliating challenges was too much for her to handle all at once, and she felt her bottom lip start to tremble as her vision blurred with hot tears, “Why are you doing this?” she whimpered, “You’re ruining everything!” she shouted, stomping her foot as she looked into the camera as though she were looking only at her two antagonists. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 to challenge Ouija to: “change into a diaper” BoneFairy has donated $1000 to challenge Ouija to: “give up pretending to be an adult and accept that she’s just a stupid baby” She’d reached her breaking point with that, and cut her feed as she howled in frustration, throwing her camera onto the padded floor and ripping the headset camera from her head to do the same with it before she sat down on the padded floor and cried. ********** She pouted as she stared at the donation messages, she’d never gotten more than a few hundred dollars in her previous streams, challenges to get into closets or lay on a bed or gurney were easy money, but between SnuggleCorn and Bonefairy, she’d amassed ten times what she normally took in, but in order to collect, she had to humiliate herself. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done something degrading for views before, she’d livestreamed an enema and release into her diaper for a few hundred dollars back when she’d been SnuggleCorn, but she was trying to be something else now, trying to be legitimate in the realm of urban exploration and not some kind of whore for viewers, a clickbait abusing little girl that would do anything for money. She sighed heavily and looked around for her cameras, finding and reapplying her headset camera once she’d managed to remove all traces of the fact that she’d just spent the last five minutes crying and feeling sorry for herself after throwing a tantrum at being picked on. Crawling and stretching beneath one of the cribs, she retrieved her handheld camera and got back to her feet and took a deep breath before turning her stream back on. “Are we back?” she asked, noting the steep decline in viewer numbers, “Technical difficulties are a bitch, man!” she joked, “Umm, not sure if those donations are still valid or not.” she said, testing the waters to see if either of her bullies were still watching. BoneFairy: Mine are SnuggleCorn: Ditto Her stomach lurched as she softly nodded and sighed, “Alright then, so, what, I have to go get a bottle from the fridge and drink it, put on a diaper, get into one of the cribs for five minutes, and,” she gritted her teeth, “stop pretending to be an adult and accept that I’m a stupid baby?” she asked. Her bullies responded in the affirmative along with a few dozen teasing comments. Shuffling back to the break room, she went to the fridge and opened it, scanning the bottles for one that looked the least gross. BoneFairy: The pink one She looked and saw the bottle, a pink lamb on the side of it, the name on the strip of tape reading “Marcy”. Picking up the bottle, she could see that it probably contained milk, given the white liquid inside, but she hoped it was only regular milk and not breast milk, the latter somehow seeming worse despite both obviously being spoiled by this point. Bottle in hand, she trudged to the diaper closet, “And who will I be wearing tonight?” she joked. SnuggleCorn: Sesame Street Pampers, please Ouija looked on the bottom shelf, the largest sized diapers, and picked up one of the specified diapers, “I’m going to set you guys down while I change in the bathroom.” she said, removing her camera and setting her handheld down on the shelf in the closet with it before going into the bathroom to make use of the changing table in the back corner, stripping off her pants and pull-up before climbing onto the changing table, panicking when it creaked in protest at new weight after such a long period of peace, and quickly powdered herself and taped the diaper on, feeling herself smile as she crinkled softly when she wiggled her butt before getting down and putting her shoes back on to go back to her cameras. “Satisfied?” she asked, lifting the bottom of her hoodie to show off her diaper, turning around for the camera. SnuggleCorn: Adorable! BoneFairy: Doesn’t that seem like a much more appropriate outfit? Her audience had returned to its former glory since she’d come back, and hundreds of people agreed with BoneFairy, much to her dismay, but she put her headset camera back on and started to head back to the nap room to finish her challenges. BoneFairy: Crawl She sighed, putting her handheld camera and the bottle in her hoodie pocket as she got down on all fours and began to crawl down the hall, the soft, tinny music from the toybox playing once more as she entered the playroom and turned left to head to the nap room. She felt a flutter in her tummy as she listened to the crinkle of her diaper, crawling like a baby in a daycare center on her way to get into a crib and drink a baby bottle of some kind of milk, she hated that she was being forced to do these things on her non fetish related channel, but she absolutely loved the fact that she was living so many little fantasies all at once without having to admit anything about her kinks. Once she reached the nap room, she crawled to the furthest crib and stood up and climbed in, raising the side and securing it before pulling out the bottle and her handheld camera. SnuggleCorn: Can you attach your camera to the mobile so we can see you, sweetie? She blushed and checked the mobile, finding a spot that she could hook the strap on the camera to the mobile so it was pointed down at her and did so, “Look good?” she asked. Thumbs up and approving messages poured in. She nodded and lay down on the mattress, her diaper and the waterproof cover beneath the sheets crinkling as she moved and got comfortable, avoiding looking up at the camera above her as she sighed and brought the nipple of the bottle to her lips, guiding it in and giving a few tentative sucks on it to taste the liquid inside. She’d tasted spoiled milk before, accidentally made a bowl of cereal and taken a bite without realizing the milk had soured, but the milk in the bottle was perfect, cool on her throat, sweet to the taste like gingerbread, and she couldn’t help but smile as she gripped the bottle with both hands and closed her eyes as she nursed it in earnest. The tablet notified her that messages were coming in, but she didn’t care, she was content to allow herself this small moment of littleness and peace in a night rife with setbacks and disappointments, an escape from the pressure to put on a good show in the face of trolls, a way for her to accept some much needed little time after months of having to set everything up for the show. She opened her eyes slowly, looking up at the camera, a long dormant side of her bubbling up to the surface as she giggled bashfully and dribbled into her diaper as she nursed her bottle, this was something she could do without much effort, weeks of scouting this location and researching the history of it, breaking into the place and putting herself in danger, and in the end the thing that was going to net her more money and arguably more views, was something she’d wanted to incorporate into her streams to begin with, her baby side. She popped the nipple from her mouth and was about to bare her soul, to out herself as an adult baby, as a diaper lover, when she noticed the office door she’d tried earlier and found locked was wide open. “The office door is open!” she whispered, letting the bottle fall to the mattress and out between the rails to the floor with a dull thud as she got up onto her knees and peered through the darkness at the door. Fishing around in the bedding, she found her flashlight and shined it at the door, a desk and bookshelf beyond. Detaching the camera from the mobile, she held it up over the crib rails, “We’re going in!” she whispered. More notifications came through as she set the camera down on the mattress and tried to disengage the side of the crib so she could get out. Frustrated at her inability to successfully lower the side of the crib, she stood and put one leg over the railing, making sure her foot was nestled between the bars and on the mattress before putting her other leg over and dropping down to the floor, easily lowering the crib side from outside the crib and grabbing her camera, “If you guys are commenting right now, I’ll read them in a second, I just want to check out the office real quick.” she whispered. Her damp diaper rustled softly with each step she took toward the door, shining the light into the office and panning it back and forth to make sure no one was inside before she crossed the threshold. The office smelled like leather and books, or leather bound books, she supposed, it smelled more like a library than an office in a daycare was all she could think as she looked around. The desk was a rich Mahogany, a green mat on the surface of it with business cards and post-it notes stuck to it, a fancy golden pen holder sat beside the mat with a green shaded lamp near the corner. At the edge of the desk was a golden placard that read “Mary Gallagher” in what she assumed was the woman’s handwriting etched into the gold. The bookshelf behind the desk had child psychology books and parenting guides, but also had books about medical practices and other related things as well as general fiction peppered throughout. “Remember when you had to go to the principals office in school?” she asked her audience, “This is exactly like that.” she added, her cheeks heating up when she thought of being sent to the principal’s office dressed as she was now, bottomless save for a damp baby diaper. Devil’s_Plaything: You can take a break and change back into your regular clothes if you need to. BoneFairy: Nah, brah, I cashed in my challenge that she accepts she’s a stupid baby, so the diaper stays. Agreeing comments flooded in in support of BoneFairy. “I’m fine, DP.” she said, stopping herself from saying anything further. “Okay, if the cops and rescue workers came in and got all those people out then wouldn’t the secret room still be open?” she asked, voicing her inner thoughts. MidgetJesus: Unless the story was bullshit. She shook her head, “There were news reports about it, articles, all kinds of documentation.” she argued. BeanPole: I searched and found nothing Numerous people responded with similar claims. She shrugged, “Get good at searching then?” she said with a sneer. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 challenging Ouija to: “pull “Understanding Infants” from the shelf” Ouija stared at the tablet screen in disbelief and shone her light at the bookshelf, “How the fuck did you pick out one title from maybe a fraction of-” she started to ask before another alert interrupted her. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 challenging Ouija to: “Be a good girl and do as she’s told” BoneFairy has donated $5000 challenging Ouija to: “perform I’m a little teapot for the camera and poop her diaper at the end” Devil’s_Plaything: Enough with all this humiliation crap, guys, go troll some rando fetish stream if you need to jerk off or something! Ouija’s head was swimming with thoughts of what the money on offer could do for her and set her camera down on the desk, taking a deep breath with her eyes closed before she opened them and smiled, waving at the camera with one hand as her thumb went into her mouth with the other, “Hihi guys!” she squealed excitedly, finally allowing herself to share an aspect of her true personality with her audience, “Ouija here with a little intermission dance performance!” she exclaimed, bouncing excitedly where she stood and giggling behind her thumb. Her viewership numbers dropped by the tens, then dozens, then hundreds as she readied herself for her performance. “I’m a little teapot, short and stout!” she chirped, her hands on her hips as she wiggled her bottom and giggled at the soft rustle of her diaper, “Here is my handle and here is my spout!” she continued, lifting and repositioning one arm for the handle of the teapot and raising the other to be a spout. The mass exodus stopped when her audience had dwindled to two hundred, the lowest she’d had since her first live exploration back when she was an unknown internetainer. “When I get all steamed up, hear me shout!” she burbled, making a pretend grumpy face, “Tip me over and pour me out!” she exclaimed, bending to the side to pour her spout out before turning around and lifting her hoodie to show off her diaper as she squatted down and began to push down on her bowels, grunting softly and passing a bit of gas before she managed to create a nice lump in the seat of her diaper, turning around and putting her thumb back into her mouth as she rose back up and toddled to the camera to retrieve it, “Was dat a good dance?” she asked her audience. Devil’s_Plaything: I thought you were better than all those fake as attention whores SnuggleCorn: Don’t listen to the haters, baby, you did wonderful! BoneFairy: Not even a moment of hesitation, sad The minuscule audience and the flood of judgmental comments sobered her up quickly, the smell filling the room making her acutely aware of the reality of her situation. She wanted to argue, to play it all off as a joke, but who would hear her now? Instead, she sniffled softly and sucked her thumb, hating herself for ruining everything she’d built. BoneFairy: Looks like we’re done here, Happy Halloween, you pathetic fucking baby! Devil’s_Plaything: You disgust me, kill yourself With nothing but a blubbering little girl in a messy diaper to watch, the remaining viewers dropped off the stream, leaving only one. SnuggleCorn: You really should pull that book, sweetie Numb, Ouija walked over to the bookshelf and checked the chat for the book title, finding the book on the highest shelf, “It’s too high.” she whined. SnuggleCorn: Push the chair over and stand on it, baby She nodded softly and pulled her thumb from her mouth to pull the chair from the desk and position it in front of the bookshelf for her to climb up onto it and pull the book in question, a loud chunk making her jump and almost fall off the chair before she quickly squatted down and held the back of the chair for balance as she watched the bookshelf move forward a few inches before it slid to the side to reveal a door behind it. SnuggleCorn: Put the chair back and open the door, baby She got off the chair and put it back, her heart beating quickly as her hand gripped the doorknob and she gave it a turn, letting go of it as the door slowly opened and she shone her flashlight into the darkness beyond. SnuggleCorn: Three baby steps forward and you’re free, baby She furrowed her brow and started to step back. SnuggleCorn: Is it the dark that scares you? She shook her head, “What’s in the dark.” she said softly. SnuggleCorn dropped from the chat and her tablet went dark as her flashlight began to flicker, making her smack it frantically as she began to panic. “All you had to do” a deep voice suddenly said from the darkness beyond the doorway she’d just opened, “was accept my offers to be your Daddy.” the voice said as her flashlight went dark. In the pitch black, she turned to run, the corner of the desk hitting her hip and sending her tumbling to the floor as her panicked breathing came out in shrill wheezes as she looked into the darkness for a sign of the person that had spoken to her. “I sent you clothes and diapers and toys and lavished you with affection, and what do you do?” the voice asked, “You abandon your true self and put yourself in danger and pretend like SnuggleCorn never existed, didn’t you, Alyssa?” it asked. Her blood ran cold when she heard her real name spoken. “Yes, sweetie, I know who you really are.” the voice said, a malicious smile laced in each word, “You did such a good job of hiding all your personal information, except for one eensy weensy little detail.” it said, “Do you remember when you used to do your show on your playmat?” the voice asked. She’d stopped listening, rubbing the pain in her hip as she tried to get up only to have the back of her neck grabbed by someone she couldn’t see and forced against the wall of the office suddenly, knocking the wind out of her as she felt her legs give out and whimpered as she remained upright by the sheer strength of the person behind her, his other hand snaking around her waist to hold her, his hot breath in her ear. “In the background, you had a picture on your nightstand, do you remember that?” he asked. She started to cry as a choked wheeze escaped her as she tried to catch her breath. “It was you and your parents at your high school graduation.” he told her, “I know, you’re probably struggling to think of any possible way that could’ve given away anything about your identity, right?” he asked. She was seeing spots now and teetering on the brink of consciousness. “Alyssa Sharpe, class of 2020.” he said, “It took a lot of work, but I managed to clean up the screen caps I took to get your name and then when searched that and found your yearbook online, I knew I had you.” he explained, lifting her into his arms and cradling her as she slipped in and out of consciousness. “Why?” she managed to wheeze. He was chuckling softly, a brittle sounding noise that sent a chill down her spine, “Because you need a Daddy, little one.” he told her, “You’re far too little to be able to take care of yourself, tonight proved that much.” he said. She could feel that they were moving and struggled weakly in his strong arms. “Now now,” he calmly chided, patting her bottom softly, “baby is just fussy because she needs a change and a nap.” he told her as he shifted her to close the door behind the bookshelf as he carried her through it, “Once we have you all sorted out, we can begin your training.” he said, his greasy skin and prickly stubble against her forehead, his reeking breath filling her nostrils as he kissed her. “They’ll know I was here and come looking for me.” she said. The brittle chuckle returned, “Everyone abandoned your pathetic little stream, baby.” he said, “And while you’re napping, I’ll be scrubbing Ouija_Look_At_That from every platform, just like she never existed.” he told her. “Besides, this place hasn’t been relevant since the mall closed down.” he explained, “My mom owned the daycare back in the day, god was she a mean old bitch.” he bitterly spat, “But when she died she left it to me, a moldy old daycare center in a crumbling old abandoned mall, on brand, honestly.” he said. “Anyway, everything that brought you here was me laying a trail of breadcrumbs for you, BoneFairy and SnuggleCorn goading you, the pink bottle you were supposed to finish having a sneaky little dose of muscle relaxers that are probably kicking in fully now, and of course all that money you just couldn't pass up, so once that’s all gone and you’re gone, nobody’s gonna miss you, just another missing female in a sea of reckless and ignorant females that don't take any precautions to keep themselves safe." he added. She was panicking and crying as he carried her through the darkness, “Please, I haven’t seen you, you don’t have to-” she started to plead, her words evaporating as the thick bulb of a pacifier filled her mouth, too big to be comfortable, her jaw popping as it nearly choked her going in. “Lesson one, baby cannot speak.” he told her. “You’ll see Daddy plenty after your nap, but the dark is good for this situation, keeps you disoriented and malleable so you don’t act up and get hurt.” he explained. She whimpered, the pain in her jaw worsening every second the pacifier remained in place, her hands being slapped roughly when she tried to grab for it. He sighed, “I know you don’t like spankings, so I’d advise you not do anything more to earn one.” he warned. She felt herself being set down on her back on a cushioned surface and felt alone in the darkness when he stepped away “You never should’ve ghosted me.” he said, his hands suddenly ripping the tapes of her diaper, “I understand how scared you must’ve been to give yourself to me without getting to know me first, females are often quite skittish around dominant males.” he explained, “But you know what a little baby you are and how badly a little baby needs a strong Daddy.” he continued as he wiped her thoroughly, his thick fingers toying with her body in ways that would make her scream and vomit if she were able to, the smell of powder filled her nostrils and she felt her legs effortlessly lifted along with her bottom as a much thicker diaper was slid beneath her. She was hyperventilating, getting ready to pass out, or die, she hoped, just so she wouldn’t have to endure being this sick bastard’s captive any longer than she had been already. “In time you’ll learn that Daddy is all you need.” he told her as he taped her new diaper snugly onto her, then repeated the process four more times, “You won’t need to worry about talking or walking or feeding yourself or even going to the bathroom because Daddy will have all of that taken care of for you so you can just be your true self,” he said as he lifted her up and held her like a baby once more, “Daddy’s perfect little SnuggleCorn forever and always.” he whispered into her ear. The bulk of so many diapers kept her legs spread wide, rendering them uncoordinated even if she weren’t weak and disoriented and on the verge of passing out and merely remained still and silent as she was set down in what she assumed was a crib once she felt the mattress beneath her and heard the side come up and lock in place. “If you’re a good girl and take a nap without any naughtiness, Daddy will give you a special treat when you wake up.” he whispered, his thick fingers stroking her hair as she shuddered and recoiled to the other end of the crib. His hollow chuckling came around once more, “I wasn’t sure what the best part of having you would be,” he began, “I thought just having the baby I’d always dreamed of having would be it, but now I can tell that reminding you of who you truly are and returning you to your true baby self is going to be my favorite part.” he said. She whimpered and cried softly into her pacifier. “The sex might just top it though.” he added, chuckling to himself as his footsteps retreated into the darkness. Without being able to see, she was helpless and accepted that she’d have to endure some awful things before an opportunity to escape presented itself, but she really didn’t see any outcome that didn’t benefit her, either she’d escape and kill him or reach the police and send him to jail for what he’d done to her, or she’d anger him and end up dead, either way she’d be free sooner rather than later. The End Happy Halloween!

The genesis of this story comes from a comment by @Sarah Penguin on my story That's My Fetish. This got me to thinking about the possibility of these "outlandish" scenarios we concoct in this community existing in the real world and how they'd be handled. Is this story any good? ?‍♂️ That's kind of on you guys to decide, but I do know that it was enjoyable to write and allowed me to prove to @TheMommyM that I'm not all doom and gloom and pain and panic ALL the time and I can manage to write something that I feel turned out pretty sweet when all was said and done. Anyway, I've taken up more than enough of your time, please enjoy and feel free to engage in discussion at the bottom and let me know your thoughts and feelings about the story. Closure By: The Unknown Author I sat in my car looking at the building ahead wondering how something so innocent and innocuous could be warped and perverted into something so terrifying and scarring. I knew the answer already, it had nothing to do with the place itself, it was just four walls and a roof, it was their actions that turned it into a void, a place where happiness would slowly suffocate leaving behind a battered husk of resentment and anguish. The sign on the wall beside the front door matched the one near the parking lot entrance, colorful clusters of balloons and baby blocks floating around a cartoon rabbit wearing a bonnet and a cloth diaper with a comically oversized safety pin holding it in place, the words “Happy Hare Preschool and Daycare” in pastel bubble letters above the rabbit’s head. I shuddered involuntarily in my seat as I read the sign, remembering the joy I’d felt the first day I’d started working there. Being a graduate of the prestigious “Happy Hare Preschool”, returning to my old Alma Mater cemented my feelings of accomplishment and personal growth as I looked at the small play area in the back of the building through the fence from the sidewalk and remembered swinging on the swings and playing in the sandbox, unaware that the whole world beyond that fence was waiting for me to come and grab it by the short hairs. He’d been the owner for a few months when I started working there, my interview to get the job had been done with his wife, a heavyset woman that made me feel very calm, like a grandmother would when she offered you cocoa on a cold afternoon. She’d been delighted to learn that I myself had attended the preschool and took that as a sign that I should indeed return, though without any formal teaching or childcare credentials given my recent graduation from high school, I was offered the job of “Daycare Assistant” rather than anything more formal. I’d been working there for a few weeks before I met him. Where his wife had been a kindly and calming person in her general aura and way she conducted herself in conversation, he was brusque and not at all pleasant to be around. Our first meeting bypassed any fanfare and pleasantry for him critiquing my work at stocking the changing tables and pantry’s, culminating in half of the work I’d done being scattered all over the floor with explicit orders to clean everything up and organize them again correctly, with the threat of having to find another job should I fail again. Having never dealt with a boss before, let alone one that made me feel stupid and inexperienced for a tiny mistake, I spent a fair amount of my break crying in my car that day and the rest of the week hoping I wouldn’t see him again. I sighed heavily as I shut off my car and opened the door, the heat of the day assaulting my air conditioned skin immediately. Moving to the trunk I unlocked it and lifted the lid, retrieving the bag within before closing the lid once more and locking my car up to head to the front door of the building. Papers littered the door, notices of closure and active police investigation weathered and aged, most torn almost completely off like the remnants of the police tape at the edges of the door frame. The front door was boarded up, but I set my bag down and pulled the pry bar I’d brought out and went to work removing the barricade, wiping sweat from my brow once I’d gotten it loose enough to allow me to access the door behind, smiling as my key still turned the lock with a satisfying chunk sound which let me enter the building. I clicked on my flashlight and moved it over the entryway, the beam passing over the small sitting area where parents could wait for their kids to be retrieved for pickup, then to the facility beyond and finally to the front counter where parents would check their kids in for the day. Returning my beam to the body of the building I felt another shudder run up my spine as I took my first steps into the traumas of my past. The smells triggered me first, the faint bouquet of ammonia and talc mixed with the staleness of age and dust beneath a thin veil of cleaning supplies, I imagined the smell would fit better in a senior home, but nothing about the things I saw could support that notion. The long row of changing tables was off to the side of the front area, tucked far enough away to allow for the smells of used diapers and accidents to be masked by walls and corners as much as diaper pails and air fresheners. I stopped at the first changing table, my flashlight illuminating it, the hope that under the harsh light in the darkness I’d see that it was nothing to be afraid of, that it being an inanimate construct of wood and plastic would get my quickened heart rate and breathing under control, but it didn’t, it just brought the flood of nightmares back to the front of my consciousness. I’d stayed late at the request of his wife, and at the offer of overtime pay for helping with the inventory of the various supplies we kept stock of. I remembered her offering me a cup of cocoa, her warm smile bringing the memory of my initial assessment of her being like a cocoa offering grandmother to mind which made me return her smile as I accepted the offered drink. It was a short time later, as I was counting the jars of baby food and the room started to feel like it was tilting, sending me staggering to one of the tiny chairs nearby only to crumple to my hands and knees, seeing the two sets of feet and legs approaching that I began to worry, but my shaky arms and legs gave out and blackness overtook me before I could fully grasp what was happening. The video recordings were my only link to what had been done to me during my unconsciousness, and having to not only see them, but have them be seen by a courtroom full of people made me nauseous as I lifted my light from the changing table and gave serious consideration to bolting, but I swallowed the bile down and pressed on, knowing that this was my only chance to do what I’d come here to do. Obviously no one in the courtroom had laughed at me, the humiliation I experienced from watching my unconscious body be stripped and diapered on a changing table made for actual babies and children was purely internal, the sheer magnitude of the violation and degradation was the prison that kept my mind locked up, unable to move forward with my life, but being a teenager on the cusp of womanhood and independence, looking to college and life in the adult world and seeing the ease at which someone could strip all of that from me and leave me reduced back to infancy was an impossible pill to swallow, until I did something to help the medicine go down. I’d woken up restrained in one of the cribs further back from the changing area in another room that I made my way to, my flashlight guiding me past the rows of changing tables, dancing across posters with cartoon characters urging hand washing and safe play until I came to the open door to the nap area. A dozen cribs lined the wall across from me with several near the door and the other small wall at the far end of the room, I steadied my breathing and passed through the doorway to the crib I’d been detained in, the smallness of it made me giggle nervously, startling me briefly until I realized the sound had come from my own mouth. All told, my detainment and torture lasted nearly three days, but in that time it had seemed like an eternity, the fear and humiliation keeping me in a constant state of panic that didn’t afford me the luxury of knowing how fast or slow time was passing. I think it was the feeling of betrayal from his wife that hurt the most, his actions making some kind of sense given the way he conducted himself, it wasn’t all that shocking to discover he was the kind of man that would hold someone against their will and torture them by forcing them to be his personal baby, but she’d always been so sweet and kind to me and to everyone else there, worker and patron alike, so to have her be the catalyst, the one that had drugged me in the first place really destroyed my ability to trust moving forward. When I’d woken up she was the one standing beside the crib looking down at me, the smile on her face, her hands clutched together in front of her chest like an aunt or grandmother eagerly awaiting her newest family member’s arrival into the world was deeply unsettling as I struggled to focus my thoughts and vision back to some semblance of normalcy. The pacifier taped in place within my mouth kept me from talking and the rope that bound my wrists and ankles along with my weakness from being drugged kept me laying there docilely, looking up at her in fear and confusion. I kept a mental tally of every infraction against me in my time of incarceration, at first just to keep my mind on something useful, like anger and hatred, but then it became a scorecard to be used against them should I make it out of the situation alive and not be killed and dumped somewhere for them to continue on doing what they’d done to who knows how many other people. I endured twenty two diaper changes, four baths, forty eight feedings from baby food to formula to bottles of milk or juice, two enemas, an even dozen naps, sixty eight spankings, and two hundred and ninety four instances of them “re-educating” me to think and behave like a baby. The one thing I was glad I never had a count for was sexual abuse, though I was sure that were she not constantly with me, I wouldn’t be able to say that. During the trial I had to relive all of those instances in gory detail as a hundred other eyes looked on at the videos. They saw me being forced to crawl to “Mama” or “Papa”, saw me gag and struggle against the invading spoonfuls of mush, saw me sob and beg to be allowed to use the toilet until I finally couldn’t control myself any longer and released my bladder and bowels into the diapers they kept me in all while listening to them heap on praise in syrupy sweet baby talk, the tone making my stomach turn even as I sat in the courtroom miles and time between me and that horrible place and that horrible event. Almost worse than the actual act was the years of therapy that followed, having to tell someone what I’d done and what was done to me, having to admit that I hadn’t slept through the night for months I’d been released and had resumed the bedwetting problem I’d gone over nearly a decade without because of the nightmares. I went through seven different therapists before I settled with Dr. Lish, ghosting on the others for various reasons, some for, what I felt, was their condescension or downplaying of the things I’d endured, others for their notion that what had been done to me had triggered something within me that was making me subconsciously long for that treatment in a setting on my terms, citing my returned nighttime accidents as a tether to a long dormant state of youth that I was trying to recapture because I’d lost my father at such a young age. Dr. Lish was the only one that reassured me that what was done to me was horrible and that the only real way to move past it was to break it down and understand it. A week later, and here I stand, looking at the innocuous items that were tools in my torment, seeing them for what they were, items of furniture and nothing more and understanding that they existed to care for babies and were twisted and perverted to be used against me for some kind of sick game. I ran my hand over the top rail of the crib and sighed, letting go of the fear as I touched the wood and felt nothing, no anxiety or fear, just wood and a reminder of all the babies I’d seen sleeping peacefully within, nothing or no one doing them harm, and I smiled. A new smell filled the building as I walked around looking at the various areas where I’d endured so much, the smell of gasoline as it poured from the can I’d brought with me, making a trail that would lead the fire through the past and burn it away so that nothing would exist of that awful experience save for my own memories, but those would fade in time. I sat on the hood of my car and watched the fire travel from the doorway and into the building, the smoke beginning to billow out the crack in the door and my smile came back again and I laughed to myself. Dr. Lish had given me the name of a support group that I’d avoided for a long while, but once I’d given in to my mother and Dr. Lish’ constant pestering, I found people that understood what I’d been through because they’d experienced similar things in their own lives. There was Allison who’d gotten in trouble for underage drinking and was sent by her parents to live with an aunt that, over the course of the Summer, had reduced her to a second infancy that she was still struggling to overcome several years later. Charlie was the youngest and had been punished for wetting his bed at camp by having to stay in a nursery rather than the normal bunks. Brittany had been blackmailed by one of her fellow cheerleaders into wearing diapers and degrading herself for the other girl’s pleasure, and Max had been punished for wetting himself on a family trip by having to wear his baby sister’s diapers. All of them had stories that sounded ridiculously unbelievable in our rational society, but Allison still had to wear training pants because she hadn’t fully regained her continence, Charlie was dealing with the realization that he was gay after the feelings of seeing another camper enduring the same treatment he was brought arousal to him. Brittany had lived with the abuse of her blackmailer for so long that she actually developed a kind of Stockholm Syndrome and now lived with her former classmate as her baby girl and lover, while Max was transitioning to become the girl his parents had awakened when they’d dressed him up to match his sister, a telltale crinkle beneath her dresses at every meeting told the story of her acceptance of the garment to this day. None of them were angry anymore, though Allison did still childishly swear when she realized she’d had an accident, falling back on her training to not use foul language all those years ago by muttering a simple “poopy” or “fiddlesticks” when she squirmed a little in her seat to assess the severity of the accident. They all accepted what had been done to them and had moved forward with their lives, some, like Brittany and Max, embracing what they’d lived through and accepting it as a part of who they were, while Charlie looked to the future where he would be able to admit to a boyfriend that diapers and babying were something he was into and know that it wasn’t the end of the world if they thought that was weird or disgusting, he’d keep looking until he found someone that accepted that part of him and loved him regardless of it. So, where does that leave me? Well, after the fire started to pick up steam but before the fire department arrived I got back into my car and headed to a small diner across town and ordered coffee and breakfast while I waited. Before I’d finished half of my first cup Allison was entering the diner and waving to me, making her way to the booth to sit across from me. “I was surprised you called.” she said as she looked at her menu. I nodded and took another sip of my coffee. “Me too.” I confessed. “It took me almost fifteen minutes to actually do it.” I added. She looked up from her menu and smiled. “I’m glad you did.” she said. “Not sure why you did, but glad nonetheless.” she added. “I did something today and kind of needed to talk to someone about it without feeling like they’d judge me.” I told her. She giggled. “Sounds juicy.” she said. I nodded and watched the waitress approach and take Allison’s order, leaning forward after she’d left, “I burned the daycare.” I whispered. Her eyes went wide, her mouth forming a little “o” of shock. “Really?!” she exclaimed, flushing hotly as she leaned down closer to me and the table. “What happened?” she asked in a newly adopted whisper. I told her the story, shared with her my process of coming to terms with everything as I walked the rooms of the daycare and reduced it to useless ash to purge it from my life once and for all. “How do you feel?” she asked after I’d finished, our food arriving a short time later. I sighed heavily. “Not as good as I thought I would, to be honest.” I confessed. She pouted as she speared a sausage with her fork. “I’m not surprised.” she said simply. “Destruction isn’t always the way to rebuild.” she began as she put the sausage into her mouth and politely chewed with her mouth closed, waiting until she’d swallowed to resume speaking. “Sometimes, it’s okay to keep the foundation and build onto it rather than try and tear everything down and build something new.” she explained. I rolled my eyes. “You sound like Dr. Lish.” I teased. She smirked and shrugged. “What can I say, she’s not wrong.” she said. “So, Dr. Allison, what would you suggest I do?” I asked her. She looked at me thoughtfully as she chewed her eggs, unaware of the bit of yolk juice that was on her chin and threatening to fall on her shirt until I grabbed a napkin and wiped it away for her. “Thank you.” she said after swallowing. “Before I suggest anything, I’d like to know why you thought burning down a building would change what happened to you.” she said. I shrugged. “Fire cleanses all?” I asked. “That’s fair, but if I burned down the Tower of London would it undo any of the history the building had?” she asked. I shook my head. “If I learned about the history of the building and accepted the bad with the good would I be able to objectively make a decision as to whether or not the building could hurt me?” she asked. I begrudgingly nodded. “So, if I suggested that maybe you’re feeling the need to destroy the past because you’re afraid of it, would I be wrong?” she asked, taking a sip of her orange juice. I sighed. “Not entirely.” I said. “But, I’m not afraid of it.” I added. She raised an eyebrow. “Then what are you afraid of?” she asked. The waitress came and refilled our drinks and took our plates and I sat waiting for her to leave, the words I wanted to say, that I needed to say hiding deep within me, afraid to be exposed to the harsh light of day. “Do you want me to guess?” she asked after I’d said nothing for a long while. I flushed but remained silent. She cleared her throat. “I think that you’re afraid that your bedwetting makes you the baby they treated you as.” she said simply. “That’s a part of your past that you struggled with, that filled you with shame and made you feel younger and more helpless than your actual age and you’re worried that admitting that will put you on a path of self fulfilling prophecy and you’ll end up becoming the baby they wanted you to be.” she explained. “How am I doing so far?” she asked. I swallowed hard. “Wrong.” I croaked out softly. She looked at me in genuine surprise. “Really?” she asked. I nodded and blinked away the water that was starting to well up in my vision, sending a tear or two rolling down my cheeks. She was up and beside me in a flash, hugging me. “Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with.” she told me. I shook my head and wiped my eyes. “I want to, it’s just hard.” I said softly. She rubbed my back gently in a small circle. “Do you remember the first session you came to?” she asked. I nodded. “Remember that Brittany fudged her Pampers and I laughed so hard that I overflowed my training pants?” she asked. I laughed in between sniffles and sobs. “Yeah, you were so embarrassed that you tried to hide in the bathroom for the rest of the session.” I told her. She nodded. “And who came into the bathroom to check on me?” she asked. “Me.” I told her. She nodded again. “And who told me that it wasn’t a big deal because at least I hadn’t stunk the whole room up like Brittany?” she asked. I laughed again, the memory of Brittany being led by the hand by her Mommy out to the car for a change, her toddler like gait caused by her bowed out legs making her look ridiculous. “Me.” I finally said. She took my chin in her hand and turned my head gently to face her. “And who made me feel like it was okay that I’m twenty three and still can’t quite make it to the bathroom all the time?” she asked. I looked up into her eyes and smiled. “Me.” I whispered softly. “And who became my favorite person that day, became someone that I looked forward to seeing every week and thought for sure I’d die of happiness when she decided to take my number even though I felt guilty for weeks because I’d given it to her for the selfish reason of wanting to spend more time with her?” she asked. I blinked and felt the smile spread across my lips. “Me?” I asked. She nodded. “And who am I dampening my training panties over because I’m afraid that if I act on my impulse to kiss her that she’ll run away and never come back?” she asked. My thoughts raced as I took in every word of her statement, scarcely able to believe that she was wanting this moment to turn romantic just as I did, and I eagerly closed the distance between our lips and pressed mine to hers softly, fireworks going off in my brain as the tension and fear melted away and long forgotten happiness and calm returned to me. She pulled back gently and stroked my cheek tenderly. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” she confessed. I nodded softly. “Me too.” I told her. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.” she said. I shook my head. “It wasn’t you.” I told her. “I’ve been trying to say something but I can’t find the words.” I said. “Like me wanting to tell you how I feel about you?” she asked. I nodded. “Well, that turned out okay.” she said with a smile as she took my hand in hers and lifted it to her lips to kiss it softly. “Maybe if you say what you’re feeling or thinking it’ll be just as okay.” she offered. I sighed and nodded. “I know you’re right, but every time I think I can say it I chicken out.” I confessed. “Want me to guess again?” she asked. I shook my head. “Tell me to tell you.” I said. “Give me a reason to say what I need to say.” I added. “Like an ultimatum?” she asked. I nodded and looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Please?” I asked. She nodded. “If you don’t tell me what’s on your mind, I’m going to get up and walk out of here and you’ll never see me again.” she said after a moment of mental preparation. I swallowed hard and looked down at my hand in hers. “I-.” I began, the words catching in my throat. “I-.” I tried again, feeling the worry of her grip loosening on my hand filling me up and breaking my heart. “I-.” I tried again, watching her hand release mine as she pushed on the table to slide out of the booth. “Last chance.” she said as she looked down at me sorrowfully. The tears had returned and I watched the wobbly blob she’d become fade from my vision, heard her pick up her bag from the other side of the booth and wiped my eyes to see her walking away to the restroom, leaving me to pathetically sniffle and sob before I got up and hurried after her, catching up to her just as she entered the family changing room, my hand grabbing the handle and pulling it from her grasp as I rushed in behind her and yanked the door shut, locking it behind us. “Do you mind?” she asked. “I’d like some privacy, please.” she said. I shook my head and sobbed as I undid my pants and shoved them downward, sending them to rest around my ankles in a pool as I stood with my eyes closed crying the ugliest, most pathetic cry I’d ever cried. The room was silent for a long time, save for my crying, and then she spoke. “What are you wearing?” she asked finally. I kept my eyes tightly shut and struggled to stop crying long enough to answer. “A diaper.” I finally said. I heard her take a step forward. “Why?” she asked. “Because I want to-” I blubbered, stopping the statement from finishing. Another step forward. “Why?” she asked. “I want to-” I tried and failed. “I’m jealous of-” I tried and failed once more. Another step forward and then her hand was on the front of my diaper, pressing gently against the thin, store brand cloth. “Me?” she asked. I shook my head and bit my lip, gasping as I felt a small spurt of urine escape into the thin padding. “Open your eyes.” she commanded reassuringly. I shook my head again. “One.” she said, bringing me back to a long forgotten point in my life when my mother was at the limit of her patience with me as I refused to come out of the bathroom the first night she was going to put me in a diaper to keep me from wetting the bed. I whimpered as another spurt escaped me, this one more of a trickle than the first. “Two.” she said, the memory showing me standing in the bathroom crying, at the prospect of having to wear a diaper to bed while other girls my age were thinking about boys, the idea that I wasn’t as mature as them because of an unfortunate and common medical condition filling my mind as I heard the count continue through the door. The trickle became a small stream that caused me to sob at the knowledge that she must be feeling what I was doing, knowing what I was too much of a coward to admit. “Two and a half.” she said with more warning in her tone, the same one my mother had just before I opened the door and ran to her, throwing my arms around her as I broke into uncontrollable sobbing and pleading only to end up right where she’d wanted me, diapered for bed, my thumb finding its way into my mouth as she left the room and I cried myself to sleep. I threw my eyes open “I’m jealous of Brittany!” I cried just before the floodgates of my bladder opened completely and I drenched my cheap diaper to the point that rivulets of warm liquid cascaded down my thighs and onto my waiting pants. She was smiling at me, I realized. Nothing in her eyes or face was disgusted with me or judgmental of my behavior or statement, she was just smiling at me like she cared about me and was proud of me. “Why?” she asked. Everything poured out of me, the emotional constipation I’d been living with for years flooded out into the world as I told her that I’d gone back to wearing diapers at night for the bed wetting and had found myself fascinated by Brittany and her complete acceptance of her role as baby in her relationship and that the jealousy I felt stemmed from someone engaging in that role from a place of love and acceptance rather than coercion and force like what had been done to me, to all of us in the group. I poured my heart and soul out to her and stood there like a pathetic fool as she listened and smiled at me before she kissed me softly on the lips. “If you wanted to be a baby you should’ve just said so instead of ruining your big girl clothes.” she chided me playfully. I sniffled and looked down at my pants and whined remorsefully. “What am I going to do?!” I wailed. She took my hand in hers and led me, my movement restricted to a ridiculous parody of a toddler’s gait with my wet pants around my ankles, to the changing table across the room. “You’re going to let me take those soggy pants and pathetic excuse for a diaper off of you and wear the extra skirt I happen to always carry over one of my training pants so we don’t get arrested on the way out of here,” she explained as she knelt down and helped me out of my shoes and pants before helping me up onto my back on the table’s surface, “then, we’re going to the store to find some more adequate diapers until we can afford the really thick, babyish ones that Brittany has.” she continued as she wiped me clean and helped me stand back up and into one of the training pants followed by the previously mentioned skirt. I realized as she was tying my shoes for me that I was sucking my thumb and quickly pulled it out as she was standing back up. “You don’t have to stop on my account.” she said sweetly as she ran her fingers through my hair and kissed my forehead softly. I blushed and slowly reinserted my thumb, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’, or a reasonable facsimile given the finger sized plug between my lips. She smiled. “Two things before we go any further:” she said. “This is all up to you, you can go as far as you feel comfortable and I’ll meet you wherever you land with open arms.” she explained before picking up my wet clothes and depositing them into a plastic bag she sealed up and dropped into her backpack before slipping out of her own training pants and wiping herself before replacing them with a new pair. “What’s the second thing?” I asked softly. She smirked as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, threw her used training pants into the trash and washed her hands before taking my hand in hers and leaning in to kiss my cheek before whispering softly into my ear, “I think I might be in love with a baby.” she said. I giggled for the first time in longer than I can remember. I’d laughed, chuckled, heck, I’d even guffawed, but not since I was probably in training pants the first time around could I remember giggling. “I think I might be in love with one too.” I told her. She put her hands on her hips and put her best impression of a wounded expression on her face. “We’ll just see who the baby in this relationship is Miss “I wanna be a big baby like Bwittany and fudge my Pampers for Mommy awl da times!” she cooed in playfully exaggerated babytalk. I huffed and put my own hands on my hips, mirroring her faux wounded expression with one of my own. “First of all, I never said I wanted to “fudge my Pampers”,” I corrected, “and second of all, are you offering to be my Mommy?” I asked. She winked and kissed me softly once more on the lips. “That’s what I’m expecting you to moan later tonight when we’re back at my place.” she said seductively as she took my hand and led me to the bathroom door. I felt my face begin to heat up as she opened the door and I followed behind her as she led me into the next chapter of my life. The End