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Hi everyone. I don't know if this is really going to be any good, but I have been working on it for a while and I wanted to share it with other ABDLs. If you want to support the Academy stories (there's gonna be a few, I hope!) or get early access to chapters, please go to this Patreon link. It should explain things a little better. Oh and please tell me what you think in the comments! ~Mia~ -------------------- Academy I By Mia Moore "Fear not the star, but the magician that sets it in the sky." -The Source Chapter One Ai Sinclair pressed her back to the tree, gasping for air. Her lungs burned from the inside. The cold November air made her hairs stand on end, even as sweat matted her bangs to her forehead. She turned her head around the trunk of the tree to see the two men in black coats walking toward her. She had to keep running. In a quarter mile, there should be a gas station. She could call the police. With another deep breath, she ran onward through shrubbery and dodging tree branches. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she burst through the tree line and found herself in an expansive parking lot. The lights of the gas station in front of her glowed in the twilight. She took off toward the door as fast as she could. Freedom was behind an automated door, in the hands of an underpaid worker behind a pane of bulletproof glass and only fifty feet away. Forty five feet. And then Ai's feet gave way as the jolt of electricity tore through her spine and seized her muscles up, stopping her in her tracks. The momentum carried her forward, and she skinned her knees on the asphalt of the parking lot. Like wolves circling their fallen prey, the two men in black coats approached and orbited their quarry, one with his hand to an earpiece in his left ear while the other scanned a full perimeter for anybody who might have witnessed. The distant sound of a car engine grew closer. Ai climbed to her hands and knees, but her body twitched uncontrollably. Even if she could force herself to stand up, she wasn't sure she could stay that way. The parking lot around her swayed in her vision and she started to crawl toward the gas station doors. "H-help! Someone!" Ai's voice was harsh in quiet evening air. A man picked Ai up from the ground and stuffed her through the side door of a large approaching van. He slid the door closed behind her, and the van continued like it had never stopped. Though the two men stayed behind in the parking lot, there were several more waiting in the back of the van. The tingling subsided quickly in Ai's fingers and toes. She dove at the door to escape, but two more men held her back as the van sped down the street and toward the freeway. "Let me go! You'll go to prison if you do this! You'll get caught! You won't get away with it!" Nobody said a word to her; the four men all wore dark black slacks with long black coats. They had shaved bald heads and ear pieces in their left ears. It was definitely a uniform, and this was definitely an organized operation. Two of the men forced Ai to the floor of the van and clicked restraints around her wrists and ankles that had been bolted to the frame of the van. As Ai pulled on the restraints, she started to panic. No matter how she thrashed and kicked, she couldn't break free. Every bump the van hit send shivers up her back and it was starting to give her a headache. "Lemme go... please, let me go. I don't know what you want, but... but you can have anything, okay? I don't have much, but... but my purse has some cash, and..." Tears were forming in her eyes. "Please let me go, please..." The movements of the men were methodical, directed, rehearsed and practiced. Ai's begging changed from sobbing words to muffled sounds as a colorful pacifier was pushed between her lips and held in place. A slight burning stung her lips as the glue bonded, and the then a creamy liquid began to ooze across her tongue from the nipple of the pacifier. Ai’s struggles started to fade. The ceiling of the van had colored lights inside, and the frosted glass made them look fuzzy, and pretty, and so very interesting. Her arms felt heavy, her legs felt heavy, her head felt heavy. But she wasn't tired; she was fascinated. It was okay to be fascinated, wasn't it? To find something beautiful in a time like this? Her skin tingled on the outside like her insides had when she'd been electrocuted. Somewhere far far away from her, she could feel herself being undressed. Ai looked up at the brown-haired woman towering over her with a warm smile on her lips. She was wearing a white coat and a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Ai tried to talk, but the bulb between her lips kept her quiet. She reached up to take it out, but her shaking hand couldn't pry the pacifier from her mouth. Where was she? How had she gotten here? Who was this woman? She had only questions, and no means to ask them. The room wasn't strictly clinical, that much was obvious. She was lying on a soft bed, surrounded by soft lighting, an extra and unexplained softness between her thighs, and a soft smile on the woman's lips. "Easy there, munchkin. Try not to move too much now, not while you're still coming to." Ai tried to tug harder on the pacifier, but each tug only pulled at her lips, dripping more tiny droplets of creaminess onto her tongue. The more she defied, the more hopeless she felt. "I'll be happy to remove your binkie, but you need to promise you'll be good for me. Do you promise?" Binkie? Ai furrowed her brow in confusion and looked down at her outfit. She couldn't see the pacifier between her lips, but she could see the rest of it. A pink t-shirt with frills around the hem and puffy sleeves. And no pants. More importantly, a diaper between her legs. It was huge, big enough to fit an adult, but the prints along the plastic had baby blocks and teddy bears. A fresh panic filled Ai's chest, but the woman pushed on the front of the pacifier. A few extra drops of creamy liquid spread across Ai's tongue and her anxiety ebbed away. "Like any adjustment, this is going to take time. It's going to be scary at times, but the better you behave, the sooner it's going to become easy, and then normal. You can fight every step of the way, or you can lean into the help provided and be a good girl. Either way, the destination will be the same - only your journey will change." As she spoke, the woman's voice betrayed more of an accent than it first seemed - something South African, perhaps? Friendly, with compressed inflections. Ai had no idea what she was talking about. What journey? What destination? Why was she dressed like an overgrown baby, and why was she kidnapped in the first place?! Ai wasn't special; she was almost too ordinary. She dropped out of college in her second year and worked as an assistant manager at a grocery store. She had less than a thousand dollars in her bank account and she shared an apartment with her fiancé. Her fiancé! She tugged again at the pacifier, a fresh panic filling her up. She had to know he was okay! "My, you have quite the resistance," the woman said with a curiosity. She pushed the front of the pacifier again and Ai's eyes began to droop. Each time she swallowed droplets of the creamy liquid, Ai felt like waves were pulling her back under the water when she was so close to shore. What was this? Where was she? Who was this woman? Diaper. She was wearing a diaper. She was wearing pretty, soft clothes. Kidnapped. She'd been kidnapped. She tried to blink away the waves, but they were so strong. "I have a feeling you're going to be a troublesome little fighter, aren't you, dear?" The woman stepped out. Out? Ai looked around the room, but there weren't any doors or windows. She stumbled to her feet and almost instantly crashed into the floor. Her body felt so weak, like she hadn't eaten in days. She sucked the pacifier and found an ounce of comfort; a remnant association she had as a baby. She was so hungry. "Oh, did we have an oopsie daisy?" The woman returned, like she'd never left, like she'd always been here. She was dressed in a different top; how long had she been gone? She knelt down next to Ai and reached one hand down between the clumsy girls legs; a motion so smooth and simple that it almost wasn't humiliating except for all the ways that it was. Her fingers slipped into the legband of the diaper and she felt for a moment before pulling them away. Ai Sinclair had just had her diaper checked. "Well, you're not wet. You've become such a heavy wetter in your time here." Truth or lies, who could say? Ai couldn't remember a thing and this woman could have told her anything. Heavy wetter? Time here? Ai had only just arrived! Or at least, that's what she thought. She tried to ask a question, but the pacifier was still firmly glued between her lips. "I bet you're hungry, though." Ai's attention was pulled away from her thoughts and into reality. Food? Her heart raced and her eyes betrayed her excitement. The woman smiled knowingly. "Come over here, dear," the woman was motioning to a very comfortable looking chair on the left hand side of the room, wide enough to accommodate perhaps more than one person. Ai was wearing the same clothes. The same pink shirt. The same blocks and teddy bears on her diaper. She couldn't be exactly sure it was the same diaper, but she wouldn't even consider the alternative. Ai tried to get to her feet, which failed spectacularly. Her knees were trembling and she felt lightheaded. How long had it been since they fed her? Or was the meal at the restaurant the last time she ate? "If you don't come here," the woman told her, "you won't get dinner." Ai's hunger outweighed her pride. She shuffled on her hands and knees across the room, trying her best not to faint. It felt like a strong breeze could knock her out. Finally, she reached the woman's feet and tried again to stand. The woman watched Ai’s attempt to stand, and rather than be disparaging, she was encouraging and supportive. "There you go, dear, you almost have it. Let Nana help." Nana? Ai barely had a chance to register that title before she was lifted up off the floor. She sat dumbfounded on a grown woman's lap, wearing a diaper and a short baby tee. Never in a million years did she think this was where she would be. Never in a million years did she think she would do it so willingly. "I'm going to take the pacifier out of your mouth," Nana said softly. "But if you say even a single word, I will put it back in. I will stop feeding you and you'll go hungry." Ai's stomach sank. No words? But she had so many questions... "I need you to nod your head, dear. Nodding yes and shaking no are the only answers you're allowed. Do you understand?" With a pensive pause, and a groan in her stomach, Ai nodded her head once. Simple. One nod. Nana unbuttoned her jacket, with revealed a series of pockets, and from one pocket she reached in and took what looked much like a marker of some description. Using one finger to hold the pacifier, she used her other hand to run the marker around the edges and after a moment, she pulled the pacifier free. Ai looked up at Nana with annoyance. She had a thousand things on the tip of her tongue. Questions, expletives, statements of fact. The most pressing was, of course: I'm not a baby! But the threat of the pacifier loomed heavily over her, like a guillotine. If she didn't get some food in her, she would pass out. So Ai swallowed her pride and didn't say a word. A blush of embarrassment covered her cheeks. "There's a good girl. You’re learning so well this time." Before that bit of pageantry could sink in too deeply, Nana pulled a jar from inside of her coat and began to unscrew the lid. It looked, through the glass, like the consistency of apple sauce. Or baby food. Dark in color, not the most pleasant looking. Or smelling. Or tasting. And that was the point, wasn't it? It would be this or nothing. And gosh was it a large jar. Ai opened her mouth in protest, but she stopped herself before a word escaped her lips. Even as the sickly stale smell of mashed vegetables filled the air, her stomach growled. If she turned her nose up at this, would Nana give her something else? Probably not. And she was so hungry... "Open wide. Ahhh." Ai shot Nana a sour look as the woman tried feeding Ai with a baby spoon shaped like an airplane. Whatever fucked up place she was stuck in, their intentions were plain: to Nana, Ai was supposed to be a baby. "Unless you'd rather not eat?" Nana tested. With reluctance, Ai opened her mouth. There was nothing quite comparable in consistency to the food that Ai was forced to swallow; thick, inconsistent, like lumpy mashed potato with an earthy, pungent taste. Her mouth pursed in disgust as she mulled it over, needing to mash it up some before she could swallow it. She resolved absolutely never to eat another bite - it wasn't worth it. As she swallowed, though, her mouth tingled pleasantly in the same way that it does after a spicy dish; a humming, buzzing, happy tingling. A heavy sated feeling in her stomach, a warmth. A more-ish feeling. An association building method. Nana smiled, and waited, filling another spoonful. Ai was still so hungry. Even if she hated the food, she had to have another bite. She needed the energy! And before she knew it, Ai had finished off the whole jar of baby food. Her stomach rumbled happily, but she could eat more. Still, Ai hadn't said a single word to Nana. "Wasn't that lovely?” Nana asked. Ai said nothing. "Nod your head, dear. Would you like another? You were such a good little girl, after all, and if you keep being good you can have more." Ai was still hungry, but she had some of her strength back. More importantly, Nana's words were grating at her, like the screeching of nails on a chalkboard. She couldn't take it anymore. "I'm not a baby, you know! You can't keep me here. My family is going to miss me. My fiancé. They probably already know I'm gone! You have to let me go!" Nana allowed Ai to finish her rambling sentiments, and gave her the kind of disappointed look that all children knew from the youngest possible age meant that they'd screwed up. Ai felt her stomach sink and steeled herself. She had to keep going. She had to get through to Nana. "Why are you doing this to me? I don't have any money. I don't have anything! I need to call my fiancé, right now. He's going to worry! Please, let me call him. Please..." Nana reached into her pockets and pulled out a second jar - this one had a mush inside of it that was the most unnaturally looking shade of pink imaginable; like nothing in the world existed in that particular color. She said nothing to Ai, and shook her head slowly. "No, I don't want more food, please, I just want to call my—" Ai was caught by surprise at the spoonful of pink mush pressed into her mouth. She shook her head, now, trying to pull away, to clamp her mouth shut, to keep from eating more, from swallowing, but it was already just a little too late. Her eyelids drooped and she giggled. And swallowed. "Um..." She titled her head, trying to cling onto thoughts, onto protests. "My fi, my fee... fian... fiance, um..." "Is going to think you're the most darling little girl he's ever seen, dear." Ai looked conflicted, like she knew those words weren’t true but wasn't sure why she knew that. She opened her mouth, and swallowed more of the pink food, her cheeks rosy red. "The food, uh, um…" "Is delicious," Nana provided an answer, and added: "It's your favorite." "It's my favorite..." Ai mulled over those words, like she was the last to know. Ai fumbled for words, for thoughts, for something to ground her. But every time she tried to say something, Nana would finish her sentences. Nana's words became the ground, and Ai was glued to them. "I'm not..." "A big girl anymore." Another spoonful. "Please, let me..." "Have another bite." Another spoonful. Soon the jar was gone and Ai couldn't think clearly. Little laughs escaped her lips and she smiled dumbly at her caregiver. "You're going to be filling your diaper soon, dear. You’re so excited, I know you are. You want Nana to hold you in her lap while you do, and bounce you a little bit after, maybe? And then you always did love it when Nana changes you." These words should have set off alarm bells in Ai's head, but they didn't - like someone had cut the wire to the sirens, and a little red light flashing was all that remained; and even then, Nana kept Ai’s gaze away from it. "I... uh..." Ai nodded along, but she wasn't sure what she was agreeing to. The food she was given would definitely have some desired effects, but it could take anywhere from an hour to four hours to do so. The pink food would wear off long before then. It was important Ai was fully aware of herself as she surrendered her control.

DISCLAIMER: IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! If you have not read my first story: Little Beginnings: New Life - I HIGHLY suggest you do so! This story will make a lot more sense if you do. It’s where the main character is first introduced and you and learn a lot about the little community I have created. ooOoo Chapter 1: Three Months Before The moment she stepped out of the cab, her skin began to burn. Luna groaned, enduring the full force of the simmering summer heat. This was the exact reason she never wanted to come to the South. There wasn’t anything she hated more than the sun, and by the end of the day, she’d be as red as a lobster. Her father always said it was their Irish blood and she’d roll her eyes in return. No shit sherlock. They were as white as the freakin moon. For sure, she’d stand out among the throng of tanned bodies, which in her case, was not a good thing. She wasn’t sure how long she would stay but Luna had gotten a credible lead on her dad. One she couldn’t ignore. And if the authorities were still scouring Raleigh, it would only take them hours to realize that she was no longer there. “Hello, Miss?” the driver grumbled, knocking her from her thoughts. “You gonna pay me or what? I’m not gonna sit here all day.” He was a grumpy old man who’d only reluctantly driven her all the way out here from North Carolina after promising a generous pay. She’d had to leave earlier than expected and while inconvenient, made her aware of how comfortable she’d become. Never did she stay in one place for more than a few months. It wasn’t safe. “O-of course,” she blushed as she fumbled around in her wallet and pulled out one hundred dollars for the driver. Despite his less-than-stellar personality, he knew when to stay quiet and not ask questions. That was good enough for her. She carried only the bag on her back and money to last her at least another year and a half. After that, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Luna watched the car take off down the dirt path before finally exhaling the breath she’d been holding in the entire ride. There was an eerie silence. A sort of calm before the storm. Luna had only ever known noise, growing up in the heart of Manhatten. Her father explained the importance of hiding in plain sight. Nobody would expect them to be in bustling New York City, a place known for the attention and spotlight. It was perfect… until it wasn’t. Now, looking straight ahead, Luna wondered if she had the right place. The roof of the red farmhouse was dilapidated and the land looked absolutely dead. Anyone who happened upon the house would believe it was abandoned. Though that was the point. No one was supposed to know this place existed. Luna had only found it due to her father. He was the reason she’d not been caught yet. The girl walked ahead with a renewed sense of purpose. The boards below her feet creaked and she rapped her knuckle, three than two than six times, on the faded white door. She clutched a swiss army knife in her other hand, hidden in her pocket. “Always be prepared.” Her father taught her. “Never hesitate.” She was literally in the middle of nowhere-bumfuck-South Carolina. No one would see her if she was kidnapped. No one would hear her if she screamed. Being vulnerable was something she did not like. The door opened a crack and dark brown eyes peered at her. Her hand tightened around the knife and heart frantically raced. “Who sent you?” it was a woman’s voice who asked. “Martin Creevy.” she used her father’s alias. “I assume you’ve heard of him before.” Oh, the woman definitely had by the way her eyes lit up. The door closed in her face and for a moment, Luna thought she’d been turned away. However, there was a click and suddenly it opened again, wider. “We’ve been expecting you,” she said, motioning with her hand. “C’mon in.” Despite the raised hairs on the back of her neck, she stepped over the threshold into the house. There was no turning back, only moving forward. She never could stop moving, searching. Not until he was found. The door slammed shut and Luna jumped, spinning around. She watched the woman re-chain the door and turn the several deadbolts. From the outside, it looked like nothing. Her eyes wandered around, trying to adjust to the darkness. They were in a narrow hallway, with no lights and no other exit. A few pictures adorned the walls and they stood on a dusty old rug. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of mothballs and she leaned on each leg, testing the uneven floor. “You don’t think much of it.” Her eyes flashed back to the woman, who stared intently at her. “It’s just… different.” her bow-shaped lips pursed together. “Where do we go?” “Down.” “Down?” Luna didn’t think she meant literally, but she did. She watched as the woman bent down and peeled back the rug, revealing the wooden floor and… a hatch? “We take our security very seriously. There’s a ladder going down,” she explained, unlocking and lifting up the door. “You go first. I’ll follow.” ooOoo It was a tiny house. That, Luna had been sure of when she saw it from outside but inside, down here, was big. She supposed the basement would be large but not this big.They stood in the kitchen, which had no wall and lead right into the dining room where there was a small wooden table. Unable to help but gap, eyes going wide, the woman laughed, coming from behind her. “Don’t keep your mouth open too long. You’re gonna catch flies.” Her mouth instantly snapped shut and a furious blush spread across her face. Her blue eyes drifted over the woman beside her as she could see her properly for the first time in the light. She had a heart-shaped face and kind but weary brown eyes, that looked to have seen too much pain over the years. And despite her smooth, unwrinkled brown skin, her hair, which Luna could imagine must have been dark black at one point, now greyed. A few loose curls hung in her face and her lips formed a thin smile. “You look like your father.” Her brows furrowed together. She knew her father? “You have the same face but your eyes, they are exactly like your mother’s.” Her lips parted and she stilled. Her only reaction was to blink. “Call me Sue,” the woman offered no other explanation. “I always wondered when we would meet.” Still, she couldn’t bring herself to react. “This is the MacIntosh Safe House. I suspect this is the first one you have come across?” It was. Before, she was squatting in random abandoned buildings, resting while she had the chance. She knew there were safe houses, just didn’t know how to find them. “Sit down, Hon,” the wom- Sue, headed toward the kitchen cabinets, searching through them. “You’re exhausted. I’ll make you a snack.” Her feet moved on her own accord and sat down on the stool at the island table. Sue chopped an apple into slices. MacIntosh. She gulped, trying to find the courage to speak but was, she felt… Luna didn’t know how she felt. The strong confident girl from a few hours ago was gone and didn’t know what had happened to her. “My name is-” “I don’t want to know your real name.” she interrupted, not looking up from the cutting board. “Do you believe my name is actually Sue?” The girl did believe, well, at least up until now. “Charlie.” she made up on the spot. “Call me Charlie.” “Nice to meet you, Charlie.” The name sounded strange as the woman referred to her as it but Luna knew it was better this way. There was nothing to tie her to here. Well, except the driver but she doubted he’d remember. “I’m sure you have many questions and I’ll wait to answer them until you meet the others. It’s not common that we have a new person.” “The others? Oh, and I’m not planning on staying long. I’m just passing through.” She passed the plate across the table with the freshly cut apple slices and smiled. “Of course, you aren't.” The woman didn’t seem to believe her. However, the girl nibbled on the apple, realizing for the first time just how hungry she was. “There are six other people staying here. Three are out right now and the others are in the next room.” Glancing at the doorway in the dining room, she could hear the faintest sound. Was that a tv? There were a few voices. “Your father always bragged about how smart you were and never did I not believe him. You found us, which is not easy to do.” she leaned back against the oak cabinet. “How long ago did he go missing?” “Two years ago.” she ignored the heavy feeling in her heart. Realistically, he’d been preparing her for this since the moment she could walk and talk; but since it had happened, she’d never had time to fully comprehend. “He told me to run and not look back if they ever found us. He said that if he was captured then he’d find his way back to me someday. I believed him for a long time. Now, I’m less optimistic.” She sucked the tart flavor off of her fingers. The apples were gone. She’d eaten them all. “I didn’t believe it when he first told me about the communities, age play, and all of that stuff.” her lips curled up. “If the government knew, why hadn’t they put a stop to it? Innocent people are being kidnapped. My mother was kidnapped. Now my father. It made no sense.” At least, it used to not make sense. But now she realized, anything the government profited off of made perfect sense. Kidnapping defenseless people, stripping away their rights, all for what? To create a better nation? Her parents knew the price they would pay for speaking out about the secret age play communities and the government-sanctioned kidnappings. They just didn’t expect it would go this far- being on the run, living in hiding. And her mother especially didn’t expect she would get pregnant. Now she was destined for a life on the run. That is unless she wanted to get taken and forced back into diapers, made to shit and piss herself, play mindless baby games, and be just some sick couple’s object of amusement. That’s what had happened to her parents, she was sure of it. The only other option was that they were dead. Luna would gladly choose the second option if it came to it. No way would they take her alive. If Sue noticed the faraway look in her eyes, she didn’t comment. Instead, she took the dirty plate, dumping it in the sink. “Why don’t we go say hello to the others.” “Now?” she stammered. Growing up homeschooled, her interaction with people was severely limited. Being alone was what she preferred. It's what she was best at. “Yes, there’s just one thing you have to know." "What?" "Try not to stare.” “Stare?” “Mary gets mad and Tina can't help what was done to her.” Luna didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling, but it just wouldn’t go away. ooOoo A/N: Hello everyone! I promised I would post soon and I did! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter and you may notice two familiar names :). If it doesn’t make sense at first, trust me it will soon! I will be alternating, telling Luna’s (Lulu) story from before she was taken and after in Henderson. I will touch a bit on the hospital but it will mostly be her life after. I should update again soon but I hope you all enjoy!

Funnily enough, this story isn't about a Middle! Sophie-only story, so no colors this time. And no, there's not going to be more chapters. It's just a fun little one-off what-if story for my friend Lyra. --------------------------------- Premise: Lyra takes extra precautions for a long flight home with no bathroom breaks. Will Lyra regret her decision when she is seated between two beautiful women? Disclaimers: diapers, public, teasing, wetting --------------------------------- The Middle By Sophie Starring: @Lyra Silver Lyra looked down at her arm rests, one on each side. They weren’t big enough for two arms, and her flight was booked solid. She would have to share. The window seat gets the window, Lyra rationalized, so surely I can have the arm rest. And the aisle seat can get up to use the bathroom whenever they want without needing to ask. That entitles me to their arm rest as well. In fact, Lyra was so nervous about asking a stranger to move out of the way that she had taken precautions. The flight from Boston to Los Angeles was six hours long, and her bladder was proportionate to the rest of her; that is to say, rather small. She had never worn a diaper outside of the comfort of her own bedroom, but it seemed the practical choice. Practicality was about the only thing that could get past her social anxiety. Nonetheless, a part of Lyra was still regretting not spending the extra eighteen dollars for an aisle seat. Inevitably, the seats beside Lyra were taken in tandem. A pair of beautiful women stood in the aisle and checked their tickets against the tag above the row. One of them had shoulder-length brown hair and wore tight fitted pants with a dressy shirt. The other had long blonde hair and was wearing a sundress that was probably intended for shorter people. They were tall, at least six inches taller than Lyra, and leaned in close to whisper to each other. Lyra caught a glance at their wedding rings in matching styles. “Excuse me,” the brunette said brightly, leaning down to meet Lyra’s eyes. She towered over her just a bit, and Lyra had to work to find her words. “Hi, uh… are these your seats?” Lyra managed to ask. “They are,” the brunette smiled. “My wife and I didn’t expect this plane to be so full, so we got the window and the aisle hoping to have the row to ourselves.” “Oh…” Lyra didn’t think about that. When she booked this seat, the two beside her were already taken. Without thinking, she offered: “Well, I could move over if you’d like to sit together.” “I want the window,” the blonde called from the aisle, a touch of annoyance in her voice. “And we paid for those seats.” “That’s a fair point,” the brunette replied, though it wasn’t clear if she was still talking to Lyra or her spouse. “Let’s keep the arrangement for now.” Then, distinctly to Lyra: “Would you please let us in?” “Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” Lyra quickly stood up and shimmied her way into the aisle. When getting on the plane, she had been so cognizant to take small, careful steps and to keep her hips still. But in her hurry, every step made Lyra’s diaper crinkle. The blonde woman glanced up at her wife and the brunette raised her eyebrows. Lyra didn’t even notice the sound in her bout of social awkwardness, but after the blonde took her seat by the window - and Lyra sat down again on her padded butt - she was reminded what she was wearing. No one heard anything, Lyra thought to herself: another rationalization. All my friends say no one can even tell. They have other things to worry about. Not everyone thinks about a stranger’s underwear. Nonetheless, a part of Lyra wished she had just worn panties like she wanted to. Once again, her efficiency was getting in the way of her comfort. The plane took off without incident. Soon, the three women - with a cabin of other inconsequential characters - were soaring high above the clouds. The brunette took the armrest on Lyra’s right and the blonde took the armrest on Lyra’s left. Lyra sunk further into her seat and sighed, playing with her fingers in her lap. The middle seat is so undignified, she mused. This is middle-seat sub culture at its finest. Every so often, the women would talk over Lyra, sharing a sentence or two, and returning to their own respective forms of entertainment. The blonde watched a video on her phone; she must have been paying for wifi. The brunette was reading a mystery novel, as far as Lyra could tell by the cover. But inevitably, talking over Lyra meant talking to Lyra. “So you live in L.A.?” the brunette asked her. “Or are you visiting someone?” “I live there. I was spending the weekend with some friends.” “Oh, that’s quite a long flight to visit friends. How did you meet?” “Uh… online.” Lyra avoided that answer wherever she could. She had the sneaking suspicion that a majority of people felt online friends were somehow less than real-life friends. If anything, this weekend proved otherwise. But the strangers on the plane didn’t have her experiences. “Lindsay and I met online,” the brunette said, nodding to her wife. “I’m Margo, by the way.” “Nice to meet you, I’m Lyra.” “Lyra. That’s a cute little name, isn’t it?” “I, uh…” Lyra’s face flushed. ‘Cute’ was a diminishing enough adjective without the added ‘little’. “Very cute,” Lindsay interjected, leaning away from the window to join the conversation. “What do you do for work, Lyra?” Margo asked. “I… IT stuff. Computer stuff…” There was a more complicated answer there, but Lyra was halfway between ‘it’s not worth explaining’ and ‘I feel like I’m forgetting half the English language’. “Wow, that’s hard work,” Margo said. “Very grown up stuff,” Lindsay added. “I never would have thought you did stuff like that.” Lyra sunk further into the seat and nodded her head, unsure of what to say. Her face was hot and the way the women were speaking to her didn’t sound very realistic. It sounded like something she would read in a story. All the same, they seemed to have the same effect. “Would you like any drinks?” someone asked from the aisle. A woman was standing there with a cart of soda cans and water bottles. Lyra didn’t even hear her approach. “Yes. A water for me,” Margo said. “Sprite, please,” Lindsay said. And before Lyra could answer, Margo said: “And a water for Lyra, if that’s no trouble.” Lyra blinked in surprise. Had this stranger just ordered for her? But Lyra would have just ordered a water anyway. It didn’t seem like it was worth arguing. “Make sure to drink all of it,” Margo said, passing Lyra the plastic cup. “You don’t want to get dehydrated.” “I… yeah… okay…” Lyra put the cup to her lips and took a long sip. She was thirsty anyway. “So what do you do for fun?” Lindsay asked, sipping her own drink. Lindsay was definitely the more animated of the two, almost childlike in quality. But her height made Lyra feel small, especially when Lindsay would lean in and Lyra had to look up to talk to her. “I, uh… tabletop games. Dance. Rock climbing.” “Rock climbing?” Lindsay seemed surprised. “I bet you are the kind of girl that always got out of her crib.” Lyra stared dumbfounded, like a deer in headlights. “I… what…?” “Your crib,” Lindsay repeated. “You know, like when you’re a baby and you pull yourself over the bars? I bet you did that a lot.” “I… I’m not sure…” Lyra’s cheeks were hot with embarrassment. Lindsay’s questions weren’t even that invasive, but Lyra kept hearing something else. She can’t possibly know, Lyra rationalized yet again. This is just my brain playing tricks on me. Ego-centrism. Not everything is about me. Nonetheless, a part of Lyra couldn’t pull the rest of her together. She was bumbling through words like a toddler, and Lindsay pressed the advantage. “I love your hair.” She raised her hand to the side of Lyra’s head. “You don’t mind, do you?” “N-no, I guess not…” Not many people touched Lyra’s hair on a lark, but it didn’t seem too out of place. Lindsay’s fingers twirled Lyra’s colored tips, pulling just hard enough for Lyra to feel it. Then Lindsay picked new strands to play with, working her way across the many different colors. “Gosh you’re pretty…” Lindsay whispered, just loud enough for Lyra to hear. Lyra felt a cold cup in her hand as Margo passed her the glass of water. “Drink up, cutie,” Margo said with confidence and clarity, issuing a command like a lighthouse through the fog. Without a thought, Lyra took another long sip of the water and the cup was soon empty. Lindsay’s motions through Lyra’s hair went from twirling to running, like a rake through ocean sand. Lyra slid further down in her seat and looked up blearily at the two women. She was so warm, like ice cream melting in summer heat. Margo leaned down and tilted Lyra’s head by the chin, so that they made eye contact. “You like doing what you’re told, hm?” Margo asked. Without thinking, Lyra’s head nodded. In truth, when asked about it later, Lyra wasn’t sure if she nodded herself or if Margo did it for her. “Do you want me to tell you what to do?” Margo queried, much unlike the other question. The other one was a formality. This one was curious. Lindsay’s fingers played with Lyra’s hair and the both of them were so big… If they’re big, then I’m small, Lyra rationalized. If I’m small, then she should tell me what to do. Right? Nonetheless, a part of Lyra wondered if this was right. They were strangers, after all! But so were a few of the people she met over the weekend. If she had learned anything in the past few days, it was to let things happen. Did Lyra feel safe? Yes. Did Lyra like this? Yes. It seemed like ‘yes’ was the right answer. This time when Lyra nodded her head, she knew it was her that did it. “Good girl,” Margo whispered, and kissed Lyra softly on the forehead. “The first thing you’re going to do is put your thumb in your mouth. You’ll suck on it as a reminder that you aren’t to speak. You’re to listen and do what you’re told. Only take it out when you want us to stop.” Her thumb in her mouth? She was in public! There were dozens of people around her! But they are all facing forward, Lyla rationalized. No one will see. And if they did, why does it matter? I will never see anyone on this plane again. Nonetheless, a part of Lyra just wanted to obey the beautiful women. In her floaty, submissive state, that was the part that mattered. So Lyra put her thumb in her mouth and sucked softly on it, glancing up at Margo for approval. “Good little Lyra,” Margo cooed, kissing her once more on the forehead. Lindsay continued to play with her hair and Lyra was overwhelmed by the affection. “Now Lindsay and I are going to tell you what is about to happen. We will give you a list of instructions, but you only need to worry about one at a time. You worry about the first one. When you do that, we move onto the next. Do you understand?” Lyra nodded. She was pretty sure she understood. Worry about the first one, and look forward to the rest. “The first thing you’re going to do is wet your diaper,” Margo whispered into Lyra’s ear, loud enough that only the three of them in that row could hear. But Lyra’s heart rate skyrocketed. “Shhh,” Lindsay cooed, pulling Lyra closer. “We know you’re wearing one. It’s okay. It’s safer for little baby girls to travel in a diaper, don’t you think? It’s better than having an accident and asking a stewardess to clean it up, right?” Lyra knew there was some flaw in Lindsay’s logic, a string left unpulled. But for the life of her, she couldn’t find it. Everything Lindsay said sounded so right… so Lyra nodded again. “Good girl, such a good girl…” Lindsay rubbed her thumb across Lyra’s cheek and Lyra sucked harder on her own thumb. “Now all you gotta do is what all little girls do. One little accident will lead to so much fun. Just like playing with your toys. Getting up and using the potty is so much work.” “Take your time,” Margo said softly. “Your next instruction isn’t until the plane lands, so you have a few hours.” The next instruction… Lyra had forgotten for a brief moment that there would be more to follow. One leads to the next, leads to the next. But Lyra wasn’t kept in suspense. The two women alternated telling her every order she was to follow for the rest of the day. “When the plane lands, you are going to text two friends and give them our address,” Margo said. “You’ll hold our hands - in the middle, just like now - as we lead you down to the baggage claim,” Lindsay said. “You’ll tell us which luggage is yours by pointing, and we will get it.” “We will walk you to the parking lot, and you’ll waddle between us in your soaking wet diaper.” “You’ll get in our car, in the back seat, and we will buckle you in.” “You’ll be allowed to ask three questions on the ride home, if you use a convincing little girl voice.” “We will ask you to choose between Burger King or McDonalds on the way home, but you’ll be getting a kids’ meal.” “When we get back to the house, we will feed you at the kitchen table.” “You’ll raise your arms when we take off your dress.” “You’ll suck your pacifier when we put it in your mouth; I assume there’s one in your bag.” “You’ll lie on the bed and be a very good girl as we strip you of your soggy diaper—” “—and change you into a fresh one with lots of baby powder.” “You’ll cooperate when we dress you in the cutest little baby clothes we find in your suitcase.” “You’ll thank us when we tie your colorful hair in pigtails.” “We’ll take you out into the living room and put on a movie of your choice—” “—age appropriate of course.” “And I will pull you onto my lap,” Margo whispered. “You’ll watch quietly and helplessly as I strip off my shirt and unhook my bra. You’ll latch onto my breast when I put the nipple into your mouth. You’ll nurse like the good baby girl you are.” “And while you do,” Lindsay cooed, “you’ll spread your legs wide, flashing your diaper. You’ll keep your knees apart while I run my hand across the crinkling plastic, pressing and rubbing the padding.” “You’ll show us both how much you love being a baby—” “—and how much you love your diapers.” “And if you do—” “—if you’re a good little baby—” “—if you prove you want nothing more than to be our obedient little girl—” “—then you can lay in bed with us tonight—” “—in the middle—” “—just like right now—” “—with a beautiful woman on each side of you—” “—eager to make you happy—” “—and asking nothing in return but a little obedience.” “It all starts with one little accident,” Lindsay cooed. “Do what you’re told,” Margo whispered. Lyra’s mind was fogged over with thick wisps of smoke, like signals from a campfire. Each one had a message for her: You’re a good girl. You’re just a baby. Babies have accidents. You’re so small. You’re not in charge. They’re in charge. They are so big. Do what they say. Be the best little girl. Do what you’re told. So Lyra did what she was told. Between two gorgeous women, in the middle seat in a row of seats, on an airplane with a hundred people around her, Lyra wet her diaper. She felt the heat flood between her legs, spreading across her bare butt, and then the familiar comfort and safety of her padding soaking it all up. Though she didn’t leak, though she didn’t make a sound, though she didn’t give any indication of what she had done, Margo and Lindsay each kissed her on different cheeks and whispered at the same time in their respective ears: “Good girl, Little Lyra.” Then the rest of Lyra’s day went exactly as described. [End.] ------------- If you enjoy the story, please Like and Comment! Also consider joining our Patreon, where you can 50+ more stories in ePub and PDF formats. ❤️

Hey everyone, finally getting the time to write again. This is a commissioned short story, though as discussions continue in the background, the plot is getting deeper and more complex than our originally planned 10 chapters will allow for, so who knows when it’ll be done. Insert obligatory mention of my Patreon here… Anyway, have fun with this one. There’s a little inspiration coming from The Handmaid’s Tale, except without all the rapey murdery stuff. Fear gripped Penelope Russo as she stared at the paper on the wall. Seven years she worked at Donatello, never missing a shift, always coming in to cover other people, and her name wasn’t even on the new schedule for next week. Since the day she graduated high school, she’d waited tables there, while other girls came and went. How could this even be happening?! “Tony wants to see you in his office, Penny.” Jacky Phillips tapped her on the shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. The girl was barely twenty, but they became fast friends when Jacky started working there. Well, more than friends on occasion… friends with benefits? But that was behind tightly closed doors, not spoken of at work or anywhere else. The look on Jacky’s face confirmed what Penny already feared; this wasn’t going to be a good conversation. Jacky gave her a quick hug. “Good luck, hun.” “Yeah, thanks.” Dejected, she walked through the kitchen, up the stairs, and knocked on the general manager’s door. “Come in!” the low voice boomed behind the door, with that signature Jersey-Italian accent thick through it. She opened the door and stepped inside. “Penny.” He shook his head. “Penny, Penny, Penny, what am I gonna do wit’ you?” “Tony, please, you can’t…” “Look, you’re a hard worker. You’re polite. You make sure everyone’s drink is full and their food gets out hot. But I’ve told you over and over, the guys have expectations. Parents bring their boys in here looking to get them hooked up. You know this. I know this. And the big boss knows it too, and he says I gotta let you go, because you won’t do it.” “But Tony!” “You need a man, Penny. You need to be home making babies for your man. Not here turning into an old spinster. The customers complain, they want their waitresses to be friendly. And young. And the girls, they flirt until they find a guy that clicks, and boom, I’m hiring a new one because she went off and got hitched.” “Spinster, Tony! I’m twenty five, not fifty!” “When did I hire you, Penny? You were eighteen. Most of these girls that I hire, they’re fifteen, sixteen. That’s what the customers want to see, young girls they can pair up with their teenage sons to make grandchildren for them.” “But Tony…” “Penny, look, I know what you are. Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. But it’s not my world, Penny. I just gotta live in it. Back in my grandfather’s day, no one would even blink over someone like you, but since the religious kooks took over, I mean, what’re you gonna do?” Penny struggled not to cry as Tony’s words cut through her. All throughout school, she and every other girl was drilled about how the most noble profession and honorable profession for women was being a mother and wife. Only the Barren went to work, because the fertile were needed to keep the population growing. But as much as she tried to like boys, or at least to tolerate them, she lusted after other girls. Boys, they just wanted to squash her tits with their meat-hooks and then hump her like a dog until they were spent. Girls went out of their way to make her feel good, touch all her special places the way she’d touch herself when she thought about them. The dirty, dirty thoughts she had. And she hated herself for it. “I just… what am I gonna do, Tony? As long as I’m making eggs, they won’t let me work in the factories or go to college or anything! This is all I got!” “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, Penny. Maybe try being nicer to the boys at another place? Maybe suck it up and get hitched what they expect of you? I don’t know. Maybe…” He leaned over and got much, much quieter. “Maybe I know a guy. Maybe he can get you some of those sticks, you know what I’m saying? Maybe you make a phone call or somethin’.” He slid a piece of paper across the desk with a phone number on it. Penny shuddered, but took the piece of paper and slipped it into her purse. One of her “girlfriends” in high school tried to get hold of the “egg-breaker sticks” - injections you could take that would turn you up as infertile when you went to the clinic to get harvested every month. But they were as illegal as heroin and cocaine. A cop showed up for her at school not long after that, and no one ever saw her again. “Th… thanks Tony.” She hung her head, and he stood up. “I wish you luck Penny. You’re a good kid. Take care of yourself, huh?” She stood up as well, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it weakly. “I’ll have your last check ready for you on Friday, okay?” “Sure.” “Hey. Maybe… maybe in a few months, I might be needing a front of the house manager, eh?” Her mind reeling, Penny trudged back down the steps and out the back door, speaking to no one on the way. Tony’s words burned at the back of her brain. Why? Why’d she have to like girls? Why couldn’t she just be normal and find a husband and have a happy life surrounded by kids? It would have been so much easier than what she’d been through since high school. She thought about the phone number he gave her. God, if she got caught, she’d wind up disappeared like that kid Sarah! But if she didn’t get caught, that was her golden ticket! All she needed was to turn up empty at the fertility clinic three months in a row, and she’d be reclassified as a Barren. No more pressure to get married, no more being a waitress and getting groped by horny teenage boys while their parents laughed about it. She and her little circle of special friends would still have to keep quiet about their little get-togethers, but no one really cared about what Barrens did with their free time. It was only illegal for boys - If a man lie with a man as a woman, it is an abomination, was how the verse went. Girls, well, society thought it was shameful, but the Coalition couldn’t find any biblical justification to outlaw it. But first she had to at least try to find another job. Even if she could get the sticks, she had to keep her rent up long enough to make it three months…

Here we go again! This story takes place in the same universe as Classified: A New Life, and if you haven't read that, you should read it first. This is a much less whimsical tale, but one that I hope fleshes out the universe a bit more, as well as being enjoyable to read. It covers some pretty dark stuff as the story goes along, so read at your own risk. Here we go, and please do tell me what you think! ##### Prologue: Starquake “Fuck!” Lily Bronsen snarls. She trembles with rage, wondering how the universe could possibly be so unfair. “What’s wrong?” One of her roommates, Alex, pokes her head out of the kitchen; her blonde hair is tied up in a bun. Alex is a Neutral, and does data-entry for the CLASS branch in their area. “Did you bang your shin on the coffee table again? I keep telling Darren to pick a spot for it.” “No.” Lily snaps, swiping angrily at her eyes and pushing her strawberry-blonde hair out of her face. “I got my results today.” Alex comes over to sit next to Lily on the couch. “What’d you get?” she wonders. “I’m a Little.” Lily says bitterly. “Did you not know that ahead of time or something? I mean...most people don’t suck their thumbs when they get stressed out. Not to mention what happened last week at Shue’s place.” “I was drunk, okay? It’s not like I piss myself regularly or anything.” Lily grumbles. “What about the week before that, at the movie theatre? Or at the concert? Or the theme park?” Alex continues, listing off other embarrassing incidents, as Lily refused to call them accidents. “Too much soda, drunk again, should have gone before we got in line.” Lily huffs. “You got a fucking point to make, ‘Lex?” She growls. “I think you know exactly what I’m saying. One is an anomaly, two is a coincidence, and three is a pattern. We’re at four in the last two weeks alone. I keep telling you to wear protection--it’s not like anyone will see it anyway. Besides, I’m not a Caregiver. I don’t mind helping you out or anything like that, but I shouldn’t have to carry around extra clothes for you either.” Lily blushes. She had been wearing protection on all those occasions. Pull-ups just didn’t work for the magnitude of incidents she’d had, and she’d ended up leaking. She pats down her pockets, looking for her cigarettes and finds them empty. Fucking Darren. “First of all, I didn’t ask you to do that for me. And secondly, what are you saying then?” Lily demands. Alex sets her jaw. “You’d better watch your attitude, Lil. I’ve had a shitty day at work, and I don’t need to deal with your tantrum on top of it.” she snaps. “I’m saying you should have seen this coming miles away. I’ll go and get the ELK, and we’ll figure something out.” Alex disappears for a moment, and then returns with the ELK and a small duffel bag in the same coloring. She opens the container, revealing four tablets, one each of green, yellow, purple, and a white one. Lily tastes each of the colored tablets in turn, mostly to placate Alex while she thinks about how to proceed. She absolutely refuses to become one of them, no matter what. She’s already managed to escape one hellish environment where her every move was decided for her, and she’s not about to go through that again. The yellow candy does taste pretty good though… “So, you’re an L-3.” Alex says. “At least potty training is an option for you, that’s at least something positive…” “How do you know that?” Lily wonders, smacking her lips at the taste of the candy. “That’s literally what the candy is for. The colored coating only tastes good if your biological markers match with that Classification, or something like that, I’m not familiar with the science of it. It’s just to prevent panic attacks over the news.” Alex explains. “You just gave me drugs?” Lily wonders. “It’s just an anti-anxiety thing. Don’t worry. There’s a pull-up in the bag, and I’d like you to put it on, just in case. You’re pretty worked up right now, and I don’t want to clean up any puddles.” Lily immediately stands up, offended and angry at the implication, even if it isn’t exactly off-base. “Oh, fuck you! Really, Lex? I’m not a goddamn baby, or a puppy or whatever, I’m not going to piss on the floor.” “Lily, you’re really trying my patience. I’m only trying to help you out. I might be a Neutral, but I’m this close to taking you over my knee, I swear. If you want to be treated like an adult, then act like it, and let’s have a civil discussion without all the cursing, okay?” “Try it and see what happens, Lex.” Lily snaps, and marches across the room to retrieve her shoes and jacket. “I’m going out. I gotta talk to Bongo and Riceman.” Lily says, double checking that her wallet has actual Coin in it, and not just her card. “Why? All Bongo’s going to do is try to sell you CHITs and fake IDs.” Lily nods. “Exactly.” She zips her coat, too aggressively and makes for the door. “Lily, what the hell are you doing? I know I’m not your Caregiver, but as your friend, this is probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Those CHITs are really dangerous, not to mention illegal, and unless you plan on hacking the CLASS database to change your results, a fake ID is useless.” “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.” Lily points out. “That’s what Riceman is for.” “Are you insane? You’re trying to prevent an inevitable biological process from happening with a drug that will at best, delay it, and at worst, kill you. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, you’re going to participate in cybercrime while you’re at it!” Alex’s voice gets progressively louder and she takes Lily by the arm. “Yep.” Lily replies flippantly. “I will not be a Little. Look, only like, three people have ever died from doing CHITs, and I’ll be careful. I refuse to end up as a pants-shitting crybaby who’s incapable of living a normal life. Better dead than useless.” she jerks her arm free of Alex’s grip “ I can handle myself.” She steps out into the hallway and slams the door in Alex’s face. ~CSR~ Bongo and Riceman’s apartment is surprisingly clean, Lily thinks. The furniture is old and well-used, but they take care of the things they have. She tries not to fidget as she sits across from Bongo at their kitchen table. Her bladder throbs, but not too urgently. She slides her pile of coin across the table to Bongo who counts it and nods, satisfied. “I’ve gotta go make your new ID and get the CHITS counted out. Be careful with that stuff, Lily, I mean it. Any more than one a day and you’re in for a real bad time.” Bongo say seriously, his dark eyes intense. “They’ll help with the incontinence part of things temporarily. Keeping your cool, and making smart decisions is on you. The Doctor could probably help with a more permanent solution, but he’s on sabbatical and not to be disturbed for anything. This is the best I’ve got.” Bongo says. “And some of the side effects can be pretty wicked, so like I said, one every day.” Lily nods again. “I get it.” She counts out another stack of Coin and passes it to Riceman. She’s just shelled out almost all of her savings, but if it keeps her from ending up in diapers, it’s worth it. “And I can alter some things in the CLASS systems without getting caught, but it’ll only be surface level.” Riceman explains as he scratches at his stubble, his round face serious. “Any kind of deep digging, and you’re fried. You’ll be able to buy booze and smokes, and get into clubs and shit. But buying a car or a gun or anything like that is a no-go. And, don’t get pulled over either.” “I can handle that.” Lily says, swallowing hard. “Is there anything else I should know before we do this?” Bongo stares at her. “Are you sure about this? There’s no reset button for this kind of thing. Once we do this, you’re stuck. You can live as a Neutral for the rest of your days, but if you fuck up at all, game over. And, we won’t be able to help you either, for obvious reasons.” “I understand. I’m sure.” Lily says, with a confidence she doesn’t actually feel. “Okay.” Bongo shares a glance with Riceman, and both of them stand. “Wait right here.” Riceman says. “We’ll be back shortly.” In another moment, they’re gone, leaving Lily alone with her thoughts at the table. What did I just do? Lily wonders.

*Edit: I've been a reader for a long time, and around this time last year I decided to start writing ABDL stories to eventually post. There was a bit of a learning curve, I wrote a few stories that failed for various reasons, but it was important to me to post a story that was finished. I started working on Without Merit in October. It's around 30 chapters long, and I'm wrapping up the final chapters as of the posting of Chapter 1. I'm really proud of the results, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for reading. All characters are over 18. Story contains sexual content. ................ About Lovington Lovington is somewhere in middle America, a place where the highways give away into county roads, where franchises are few and far between. That's not to say that it's a backwater, Lovington is exactly as pristine as the American dream, and as common as ice cream with an apple pie. It's a typical American small town with a small shopping mall, a local cinema, its main street is main street. The people are kind, generous and almost as bland as the town itself. A town that blends into the area, that isn't even a blip on the map. It's always out of everyone's mind, and the people of Lovington like it that way. There is nothing suspicious about Lovington, that's why it was a great location for a secret laboratory. All the while, this laboratory in Lovington ran along, melting budgets with no real breakthroughs — then one day, there was one. They finally opened a door and only one thing came out before it closed again: the cube. 0 Boredom is its own kind of inspiration. It was well established among the teenagers that the small town of Lovington was boring, nothing ever happened here. Even as it was happening. However, the strange place had plenty of inspiration to share with everyone. A quiet influence swam throughout the city like an invisible fog, a feeling that something was moving behind the curtain, a feeling not everyone noticed or that anyone could shake. The Hartmann house was a three story affair, if you count the game room in the basement. The below ground man cave was wall to wall in wood paneling, a throwback from the 1980s when that was in fashion. The three girls inside looked as bored as the decor, draped on the pair of couches and the single creaky, padded lazy boy chair. Katie Nguyen lounged on the shorter couch, her long athletic legs hung over the other end of the sofa. Charity Brown held a pillow across her chest and was the only one watching the box shaped tv. Marisa Hartmann rested in the giant chair, swiping through selfie filters until she found one good enough to post. "Men are so easy,” Charity sighed. "I think you mean boys are easy, there aren't any men that go to our school," Marisa clarified. She lifted her phone above her head to take another semi-down the shirt selfie. “Nothing but immature boys,” Katie added. All three girls nodded in agreement before going back to whatever they were doing, but Charity wasn't ready to let this drop. There was something bothering her, and she had no idea how to express her feelings. So she complained to her friends until they helped her figure herself out. Being a teenager was strange. "It’s so annoying because it's so lame,” Charity continued. “I’m over being romanced, getting flowers, and getting bored again.” “Sounds like you need to get laid,” Marisa said with a grin. Katie raised an eyebrow in consideration to Charity, who still stared blankly at the tv screen. “I can get laid, that’s not the problem and you both know it,” Charity argued. “We both know that you’re an easy slut?” Marisa prodded. “Ha ha, very funny.” Charity rolled her eyes. They were close enough friends to let this joke pass, but no self respecting girl liked being called a slut. Charity was mostly self respecting, at least to those who didn’t truly know her. It was fine that she liked sex, and not just the regular sex that she could get from almost any boy at the school. Charity liked weird sex, like back page experimental Cosmo magazine stuff; she found herself bored too easily, like she was right now in the retro game room at Marisa’s. And when she was bored, she thought about sex. The lithe blonde cheerleader sat up and threw the lifeless pillow into the opposite corner of the couch, preparing to get on her soapbox. The commotion was dramatic enough for Marisa to actually get off the phone and actually pay attention to her. “No, think about it, Mars. You and I both know we can get whatever we ask for from just about anyone. We can get in the backseat from a football player, or in the bathroom between classes from the weird/moody, silent kid. If we want an older guy, we’d just troll a bar with a fake ID; but we’re so pretty we wouldn’t even need one. I bet that we could even bag a teacher, like even a married one. Don’t you think that’s boring?” Katie blushed furiously as Marisa considered her words. For a typical blonde, Charity made a good point every now and then. However, Marisa wanted to see where Charity was planning on going with this, and also she wanted to see just how red Katie’s face could get from embarrassment. Charity wasn’t wrong, but she over-calculated just how horny Marisa actually was. It’d be cool and all to get caught up in a whirlwind romance with an older guy, or married man. That being said, she wasn’t one to open her legs at the drop of a hat like Charity. “So what’s your point?” Marisa asked. “I’m not trying to make a point, I’m just saying I’m bored,” Charity said. The cheerleader went back to flipping between channels with an ancient tv remote with tape wrapped around the battery pack. It was Marisa’s turn to not let things go, if something was bothering her friend, she’d at least want to know the cause, it was her game room after all. “Alright, if you’re that bored you should move onto threesomes and gangbangs. You know your way to the boys locker room, you’ve done it in their showers before, right?” Katie choked. “You’ve been in the boy’s locker room?” “Shut up virgin!” Charity snickered. It was an A and B conversation and Katie needed to C her way out. Katie’s virginity was well-renowned in her circle of friends. She was the athletic type, more interested in good grades and Martial Arts tournaments than dating. It wasn’t that she was ugly, quite the opposite. Katie was tall with almond shaped eyes and well defined muscles. Her honor student lifestyle, addiction to Tae Kwon Do, and most importantly her old fashioned Asian parents, did not allow the quick hook-ups like other girls her age. “I’m just saying I want something different, a kinky relationship without the banging — like fifty shades or something.” Charity tapped the remote against her chin. “I love that movie,” Katie quipped. Virgins just didn’t know when to shut up. Marisa decided it was time to give some sort of advice, Katie was getting no where with Charity. “So why don’t you find a billionaire to tie you up and spank you?” Marisa asked. “Who said I won’t be the one doing the spanking?” Marisa laughed, Katie blushed, but Charity was still deep in thought. They were at some sort of impasse, and she had no idea what she even wanted to hear. She was bored, kinda horny, and she wanted to play a game. The idea of being the ‘spanker’ was just a quick comeback to her friend, but Charity found it intriguing and worth a second thought. “I think we’re onto something, about the whole school being boys not men and whatnot. Wouldn’t it be kinky to be in charge of a boy like we were cougars? We could put them under our control, and force them to satisfy even our nastiest fantasies. I mean, really push the envelope.” “So what did you have in mind?” Marisa purred. She could be classically sexy when she wanted. Marisa was one of those girls that woke up perfect, olive colored skin came without the tanning bed, she had long eyelashes and barely had to apply any makeup at all because being beautiful just came naturally to her. Just like her former actress, supermodel mom. “I don’t know, maybe it will come to me,” Charity said. Still nothing came to her except a hot, churning feeling nestled between her legs. She felt the need to squeeze her thighs together, then do it again — harder. Charity softly bit her lip as she hungrily watched television. Maybe she did just need to get laid. That was when she saw the commercial that gave her the idea. At first, Charity wanted to laugh so she covered her mouth. Then she had to stifle something else, a moan. This was naughty, way naughtier than anything she’d ever thought about before. By far the naughtiest daydream while watching television. Charity flashed Marisa a wicked grin from the couch prompting her to say something. “Alright Chars, what’s on your dirty mind?” Charity crawled from the couch to whisper in her friend’s ear. Her words lost to those outside her cupped hand, but Katie tried to figure out what she was saying by watching their faces. The curiosity was killing her, she hated being left out and this felt super juicy. Marisa started off looking a little confused, then she frowned, and then she laughed. It wasn’t until Charity finished her sales pitch that Marisa featured the same wonton look as her friend. Marisa asked, “Is that really a thing?” “It totally is, I read about it online months ago,” Charity answered. “What kind of guy would even allow you to do that to him?” Charity raised her eyebrows and gave Marisa a knowing look. They were the best of friends, almost at mind reader level. “You know you already have a boy wrapped around your finger,” said the blonde cheerleader. It was Marisa’s turn to blush, she knew just who Charity was talking about. He was cute but not boyfriend material, safely tucked away in the friend zone where he belonged. At the same time, the cheerleader was right about him being wrapped around her finger, but that didn’t mean he’d be into the craziness Charity was proposing. However, Marisa was intrigued by this erotically charged challenge, how far would a boy go to please them? Especially a pushover like him. Marisa asked, “Just how —?” “We could condition him like a Pavlov dog, get him hungry with every ring of the bell. With our feminine wiles we could have him jumping through hoops in no time. Just think of it as a makeover, but with a twist." The two girls laughed as the commercial continued on just in front of them. Katie was officially out of the loop, her eyes jumping from the giggling girls and the television trying to deduct what she was missing. She'd had enough of waiting, so she stood from the couch. “What are you guys talking about? And what does that have to do with Pampers?” …. 1 “No way!” That’s what Adam wanted to say when Marisa invited him to her lake house for the four day weekend. It had to be a prank or something, why would a popular girl want to spend time with a pipsqueak like himself? This was beyond the pale of believability, and it had a dreamlike quality that could just be pinched away. Sure, they shared a few classes together throughout their time in high school. He often helped her with her homework, which actually meant he did it himself, but that was always the plight of smart guys with pretty girls. The closest the two got was when Marisa played the role of his mom in the school play, 'Mother Knows Best'. However, those connections were hardly the means to be invited to a lake house. When he thought about it, he wasn't even sure they were friends, and he had expected her to disown him at her earliest convenience. Marisa was so far out of his league that they weren't even playing the same sport. She looked like a trending movie star, had the etiquette of a princess, and she practically ran the school with her personality alone. As for her body, her mom was some kind of bikini model, and the apple didn’t fall too far from the scantily-clad tree. Marisa often wore short shorts to show off her long legs and halter tops to show off her naturally tan skin. Her hair was the color of honey and caramel, finding a soft niche between blonde and brunette. She was also homecoming queen as if there was any doubt. Adam asked, "Why me?" Marisa didn’t give him an answer, she just giggled. He agreed to go anyways, but that was before he found out that Charity and Katie were going as well. Now, he would be the only boy in a lake house with three of the hottest girls in his grade. "No way!" That’s what his friends all said when he told them how he was planning to spend his weekend. They worshipped him like he’d pulled off the impossible, like he’d found the holy grail. Jerry joked, "Hold on, wasn't Marisa the one who was your mom in the play -- wouldn’t that make her a MILF?” There was plenty of laughter and high fives to go around, they all told jokes at his expense. Adam regretted letting his plans slip. When they realized that he was telling the truth, his entire table had a bit of an overreaction. His friends turned into howler monkeys — bouncing around the table, banging their chests with their hands, and victoriously pumping their fists into the air. They fantasized and strategized on how he could bed all three girls, maybe at the same time. The commotion caused the whole cafeteria to stare, and that made Adam want to disappear. Out of all his nerdy friends, Jeremy typically razzed on him the most. He was a self-proclaimed love expert, and even he looked borderline jealous of Adam. He reminded him that this was how pornos started, 'hot chicks with a helpless geek'. They surrounded Adam in a makeshift football huddle around the table, game planning what his next move should be, and how he should best handle this 'opportunity'. His mom would probably complain about all of the locker room talk, but Adam was happy that his mom wasn't there to hear what was being said. He kept his hands over his face to hide his blushing cheeks. He let out a couple of nervous laughs to play off his unease, but he didn't touch his lunch. Good things weren’t supposed to happen to the wallflower, the outcast. There comes a time in everyone’s life where they evaluate themselves against the hopeless backdrop of their peers — a measurement of deviation from normalcy. It didn’t take long for Adam to see how different he was from most eighteen year olds. He was short and scrawny, and small enough to still shop in the kids section. Adam never had to shave, even the freshmen had stubble. It was like the puberty fairy forgot to sprinkle dust on him while he slept. He even played the cute little kid in the school play. Everyone laughed at the jokes, they coo’ed and aww’ed at him, all the while he was a senior in high school. He wasn't bad looking, both his mom and grandma said he was handsome. That’s two women spanning two generations, that had to count for something, right? Adam was shy and struggled to talk to girls, he was a virgin and never had a girlfriend because he was afraid if he asked they’d say -- “No way!” Okay, he was better with girls than he gave himself credit. Jeremy often marveled at how well he did with the opposite sex despite being so clueless. He was the opposite of Adam, Jeremy kept up with the latest fashions, dressed the part and quoted GQ like it was scripture. His reputation for unsuccessfully chasing skirt, and his palpable desperation, led to him turning off every girl at school. However, he still lectured Adam almost daily in how to get girls. Just like he was doing now. Jeremy advised, “You’ve got to have the confidence to be yourself if you want to seal the deal.” The irony was not lost on Adam; he did his best to ignore him, he didn’t want to be the one to burst his friend’s bubble. Adam just looked at things differently, his friends all changed as they grew older — everyone except Adam. Friday nights were no longer about pizza and late night video game sessions, there were no more nerf wars with walkie-talkies in the woods; now, all his crew cared about was getting laid. Adam wasn’t like them. He still played with action figures, watched cartoons and he loved wearing his Pokémon shirts to school. Like Ash Ketchum, Pokémon was timeless. It’s not like he wasn’t interested in girls, his life didn't revolve around hooking up. The situation at school didn't help matters, he was prime pickings for a lot of random harassment from his female classmates. When he walked down the halls, he got his hair ruffled, butt goosed, a couple of times he was even carried off by a pack of giggling girls. It wasn't anything sexual, it was just how they'd flirt with a senior that looked like an 8th grader. They also gave him kindly nicknames, calling him 'squirt', 'honey', 'baby'. They treated him like a kid brother, not potential boyfriend material. “No way!” That’s what Adam thought his mom would say when he asked her if he could spend the weekend at a lake house with three girls. This wouldn't pass her puritanical smell test for sure. However, she surprised him with the biggest smile and a sincere happy mommy hug. Adam still got those at eighteen. Then she asked, “Honey, do we need to talk about safe sex?” “No way!” Adam wanted to scream, but he just shook his head. She did so anyways, for an entirely painful 30 minutes, Adam never wanted to hear about the birds and bees ever again. The following day he found a box of condoms on his pillow, a gift from mom. How come everyone was viewing this lake house invitation as a VIP ticket to orgyville? Of course he knew of all three girls, they were school-wide royalty with perfect hair and perfect bodies to match. Cool seemed to always stick with them and change with them like seasons. They were the unapologetic trend setters, who all girls wanted to be and whom all boys wanted to be with. Charity was a blonde, everyone knows the type, a cliche valley girl that began each sentence with OMG and spelled out LOL instead of laughing. Her clothes were expensive but always bought on sale. She wasn’t really rude, she just tried really hard to make it seem like she didn’t care. Adam knew for a fact that she did, back in sophomore year, she stopped a few members of the football team from putting him in a locker. She had a reputation as a girl that went all the way, which meant as much to Adam as the weather on the moon. Katie was more of a mystery. The Asian girl was a blackbelt in TaeKwonDo, genuinely polite and caring. Her GPA was through the roof, and she won an award in just about everything she did. Her intelligence was just as intimidating as her muscles, she was athletic and quick to solve a math problem. As far as Adam knew, she never had a boyfriend. It seemed like the dating scene passed by them both. The boys at his table had different ways to describe the girls, they made hand gestures regarding their curves, they kissed at the air like lovesick fools. Jeremy asked, "So you're going to film this right? You're going to make an epic porno." "Um... No way," muttered Adam. This would not end in sex, he thought to himself. However, there was a secret in the duffle bag cradled between his feet. Safely tucked away in a sock was the box of condoms his mother had bought him. There was no way that he'd put anything on video, even though the thought did excite him a bit. That'd be one way to get back at Jeremy for razzing him about his virginity for the last four years. Adam looked around to see his support group had turned on him, no longer regarding him as the king of the table, only as the loser who wouldn't give them what they wanted. The energy deflated like a worn balloon. Adam hated himself for telling them his weekend plans, but he also hated disappointing them. So he did what all cowards did, he gave in. "Okay, fine. If anything happens I'll try to catch it on video." Adam expected them to cheer, chant his name, and carry him around the cafeteria, but they all fell silent. Their eyes went wide, their jaws dropped open with shocked expressions on their faces, he was surprised by the effect his words had on them. He was even more surprised to hear Marisa's voice come from behind him. “What do you plan to catch on video?” Adam felt the dual sensation of panic and humiliation when he wondered just how much she had heard. The world reeled in slow motion as he turned from the table to see not only Marisa, but Charity and Katie as well. They all had the same look on their faces, the same kind that his mom had when he did something bad. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair, he had no idea what to say, so he nervously chuckled while looking to his friends for help. Jeremy turned his back on him, whistling like he had nothing to do with operation Amatuer Pornstar. It looked like Adam was already on his own, some group of friends that he had. "I was hoping to make a nature video. You know, of the animals around the lake." A surprising solid 3 star save in the clutch! Right on cue, the boys around him nodded in agreement, someone muttered something about squirrels. It looked like everyone believed Adam except for the three girls. Katie crossed her muscular arms, Charity rolled her eyes, and Marisa had her hands on her hips as if to say: "No way..." "I'm sure you care all about the wildlife," Charity groaned. She had plenty of experience with bad boyfriends and could sniff out a masculine lie like a bloodhound. Marisa seemed the quickest to shrug it off. "My mom just pulled up, are you all packed and ready for our trip?" Jealousy emanated from his friends as they left the boys at the table. The ones who were about to throw a parade in his honor were now giving him sideways glances like he was the first one to shout bingo in a room full of grannies. He was no longer wanted at this table, and he was pretty certain that he wouldn't be until he came back with a scandalous video. That probably wouldn't happen, because despite the peer pressure, Adam still thought that it was a bad idea. Katie asked, "Are you excited?" The taller girl slugged him in the arm, harder than she probably intended, she was a black belt after all. He managed to nod back at her. Adam was not a fan of small talk, and he had to stop himself from throwing up when he opened his mouth. He said something that sounded like 'yeah', but it was more of a grunt than a word, so he cleared his throat and said it again. It still came out as a mumbling mess. The hallway to the car seemed to go on forever, how was he supposed to talk to these girls this weekend? Adam wanted to open up, shake off the shyness, but he was still a mumbling, bumbling idiot. Two conflicting thoughts battled in his mind as he shuffled in silence. The first, that his friends were wrong, and this wouldn’t be some sort of sexy party with a wild romp with these girls. This was highly likely, and the most probable outcome, but some leftover mystery still lingered — what if they were right? What if he was heading into a trap where these girls would bang him all weekend? It sounded like a fantasy, but it made him want to throw up. Both thoughts were equally nerve racking, and he couldn’t think of anything else. Marisa put her arm around him and shook him awake. "Come on, Adam. We're going to have a great time this weekend. We've been looking forward to hanging out with you, so there's no need to be nervous." He melted a little bit when she flashed a smile at him. "We're going to have LOADS of fun,” Charity giggled. There was a red luxury SUV in the parking lot, a beautiful woman leaned against the passenger side door like a Bond girl. Her long blonde hair swayed in the wind, same as her loose fitting turquoise summer dress that looked like it was ripped straight from a fashion magazine. She looked like she was high maintenance but worth every penny. Marisa pointed to her. "It looks like my mom is here. Adam, why don't you say hello while we load up all the bags in the back?" "No Way!" Is what Adam thought when he saw Marisa's mom for the first time. Jeremy liked to use the word MILF to describe any woman over the age of thirty, but that's the exact way Adam would describe her. She had aged out of pretty but matured into beautiful. The nerves rose up again, and he chose to look at his feet rather than make eye contact with her. He wanted to snap out of it, say something witty or polite, but he just walked in front of her and stood there expectantly. Like a mute. Mrs. Hartmann leaned down and ruffled his shaggy brown hair. "So you're this Adam that Marisa keeps talking about. I recognize you from the play, you look a little bit older when you're not wearing a sailor suit." A bit puzzled, Adam looked down at his Pikachu t-shirt and khaki shorts, then remembered what he wore for the play. Yes, he wore a sailor suit to make him look more like a kid. As if his genes didn’t do that enough already. “Yeah, those aren’t my regular clothes,” Adam mumbled. "I'm sure they weren't, but you did look so cute. I'd say that you were the audience's second favorite, and you memorized your lines so well. We were so proud of you, weren't we Marisa?" "We sure were," Marisa commented as she circled around the front of the car and hopped into the passenger seat. The hot mom extended her hand to shake his, Adam just meekly put his hands in hers. "My name is Lindsey Hartmann, and I'll be your driver today. You better be on your best behavior, I won't hesitate to give you a firm smack on the behind if you get out of line with any of these girls." Adam couldn't tell if she was joking or not, she was as difficult to read as Shakespeare with a stutter. However, he didn't like the sound of being spanked at all. There was something so demeaning and childish about that particular punishment. Adam had an active imagination. In his mind he saw himself draped over her lap — and he stopped himself from thinking about it even further because his face was turning pink. Marisa rolled down the window. “Aren't you going to join us?" Everyone was already inside the car by the time Adam recovered. He opened the door to the back seat to find Katie and Charity already comfortable and watching him expectantly. He stepped inside only to find a pink booster seat in the last open spot. Not only was it pink, it was a princess themed toddler chair covered with glittering magic wands, butterflies and fairy wings. A large sparkling tiara featured prominently where his butt would be. He wanted to say so bad — "No Way!" Really? Were they expecting him to sit in a chair for toddlers? Adam fumbled around the back of the booster looking for a way to pull it off the seat so he could actually sit down. It was tied to the backseat by some force beyond science, he certainly couldn't figure out where. Adam pulled and jerked at the chair while the whole car watched him make a fool out of himself. "Is there a problem?" Marisa asked from the front. "No, I'm just trying to move this car seat so I can sit down," Adam answered. "Could you do me a big favor and just deal with it this time?" Marisa asked politely. "We put the seat in for my baby cousin, and it was a real hassle that we do not want to do again. My mom is planning on taking her to the zoo next week." Marisa had a way of making Adam do whatever she wanted, the magic formula was her good looks and powerful charisma with a dash of his lack of backbone. She could easily put him under her spell. He felt helpless to her words; then again, a car seat was a car seat. Lines had to be drawn somewhere. Adam complained, "I don't think I'd even fit, I'm not a little kid." There the chair sat, its intentions evil to the core, and Adam wasn't planning on sitting in it — that was until Charity slapped the seat with her hand, which startled him. She didn't have to say a word, she just gave him a look. He was beginning to hate these girls and their looks. But once again like a coward, he gave in. He climbed into the car seat without any more protest. The arms on the booster were snug around his waist, but besides that, he did fit. Adam frowned when he did. Marisa snaked her hand from around the front seat and gave his thigh a squeeze. "And you thought you were too big," Marisa laughed. "Well, I —“ Lindsey interrupted, "Aren't you going to buckle up?" Adam desperately wanted to argue, say something about being an adult, but everything around him seemed to move too fast. In a flash, Charity deftly pulled the seat belt over him, her hands sliding uncomfortably through his comfort space, barely above his no-no zone, but the boy was flabbergasted already. Too many girls, too little of space, and princess themed car seats had a way of getting to someone. "Alright, he's locked up tight. Let's get this show on the road," Charity announced.

Three Strikes and You’re Out! By Horatio Husky One I swear if he’s out at the gym again for one of his ‘impromptu workout sessions’ I’ll bite his tail off. These musings came from the mind of a black and golden tan German Shepherd fur as he shivered, cold despite his thick fur and winter jacket at the doorstep of his friend’s house. The two had only been friends for a few months, but a lot had transpired between them during that time. Being a police officer, Rick was expected to keep his body in a state of fit physique and agility to operate at peak performance. Thus, he had found himself acquiring a gym membership after a few months at his new job when he had noticed a suspicious increase in mass around his midsection. Not wanting his fate to end like any other stereotypical donut munching cop, he had started to frequent his local gym several times a week, usually after his shift ended. At that establishment he found himself seeing a certain, rather athletic looking arcanine, who always seemed to be in the most chipper, friendly of moods whenever he saw him. After a few days of a few moments of eye contact and nervous smiling, he had come over to him and introduced himself as, ”Anthony, but you can call me Tony!” His confidence and self-assured grin had given him a friendly glow that Richard found he liked very much, and he extended his paw to shake and replied with his name. The following weeks turned into a blur as the two canines hit it off better than either of them had expected. Beyond exchanging their own little fitness tips and tricks their sense of humor was shared as well, and they found great excitement and amusement in exchanging their own ideas and perspectives on the world, which the two found that although they differed on many subjects they both found hearing what the other had to say about a particular argument quite interesting and engaging. They had gone out a few times too, to a few lesser-known bars that the arcanine had said he preferred to go too since he usually wasn’t recognized there. At this strange comment, Richard had raised his eyebrows, thinking that his friend was making a joke. Tony had smiled a little, the first time in fact that Richard had ever seen him look sheepish, as he explained that he was a locally well-known baseball player, and had found himself getting bothered quite a bit at some of the other establishments he had frequented previously. Richard had done a google search, at Tony’s suggestion more to humor him than anything, but found to his surprise a Wikipedia page confirming his newly made friend’s claims at athletic success. Tony had then told him something that warmed Rich’s heart. He had first begun to talk to the shepherd because he felt was searching for a friend who wouldn’t want to be close to him just for his fame, but someone who liked him as a person. This warmed the cop’s heart, and he had wrapped his arm around the hulky arcanine’s shoulder and smiled at him conspiratorially, saying that he was more than happy to be such a person for him. Naturally, after such a warm entrance into friendship, they had gotten plastered that night and ended up somehow both falling on top of each other back at Tony’s residence. Things had progressed down a path that the two had not fully acknowledged, even to themselves, but yet both somehow knew that would traverse if things continued. Tony had leaned forward into a passionate kiss, pushing himself against the shepherd in an act of shameless passion to which the drunken shepherd could only respond in kind. Their passions lead to the stripping of clothes and before Richard knew it the arcanine had begun to take control of him and his body in the most loving fashion he had experienced to date. Being straddled by the muscled beast he had whined and howled in pain and ecstasy, the arcanine leaning down to his ears and whispered sweet nothings into it, even going as far as gently biting the nape of his neck and embracing him around the chest as he thrust himself into him. The lovemaking had lasted a decent while, Richard remembered how he had marveled as just how well Tony had paced himself, most likely due to his athletic training and discipline. By the time Tony finished, at last, the shepherd found himself able to do little but pant and gasp for air in an orgasmic trance, having climaxed himself several minutes ago while Tony had still been going strong. The arcanine had grasped him under the chin and brought him up to his face. They kissed more, the arcanine rubbing his back and humming soothingly to the receptive canine, thanking him for a wonderful time. Richard could only smile goofily back, completely and utterly entranced by the wonderful being before him who he had so perfectly made love to. Richard stamped his feet, trying to keep warm even as his cheeks flushed with red standing in the cold at Tony’s doorstep, remembering how they had then fallen asleep spooning, Tony being the big spoon naturally, and how the shepherd had woken up to Tony cooking him breakfast, wrapped up in a snuggly blanket on his couch. They had spent the morning chatting about the previous night, now almost completely unabashedly speaking about their own preferences and even delving into fetishes. They had been surprised just how well they had meshed together in lovemaking last night, Tony causing Richard to blush when he told him how he wasn’t surprised at all how to find that the shepherd was so subordinate. “I mean come on, anybody looking at you even from a mile away could see that you totally scream bottom!” Richard had almost coughed his coffee out of his maw at this comment, causing Tony to only laugh louder between fork-fulls of syrupy pancake. The canine had blushed in response to the arcanine but smiled good-naturedly. Although normally his tough, police officer persona was the one he operated on most of the time, he found that he felt comfortable letting his guard down around the arcanine, even to the point of expressing his submissiveness to him. After his normally uncharacteristic blush, the arcanine had gently inquired about the shepherd’s preferences, whether he had considered himself a sub for long. The two spent the rest of the morning discussing their own sexual experiences, preferences, and even fantasies. Throughout their dialogue the arcanine seemed to work magic onto Richard, gently but firmly inquiring as to what he would enjoy and wouldn’t, as well as what thinks he would enjoy not enjoying. The shepherd’s heart rate rose up multiple times during their exchanges, excitement filling his body that not even his job offered him during moments of pursuing justice and chasing after criminals. “Wait here, Richie, I think I have something that you might enjoy.” The arcanine winked before rising to his full height and softly strolling out of the room, a devilish expression on his muzzle. Richard could only lean forward off of the couch and look after him, wondering what his attractive friend was wanting to retrieve. “Close your eyes, Richard.” The canine obeyed and heard Tony shuffle towards him before stopping in front of him. “You can open them now.” Richard opened his eyes and gazed up at Tony before looking down to see that the arcanine was holding something in front of the shepherd’s nose. Richard took a sharp breath and quickly realized what the object that lay in the arcanine’s outstretched paw was. A small, white chastity cage was being presented to him, complete with a steel, heart-shaped lock adorning the bottom. The German Shepherd’s heart pounded in his chest, and he looked up wide-eyed into Tony’s own well-knowing eyes, understanding what he was being offered. “What do you think buckeroo, wanna have some fun? I think I could go for dating a cutie like you. After all, I think after last night you’ve proven that you might be needing this. You made a mess all over my couch after all!” Richard’s cheeks reddened at the playful admonishment, but his eyes looked back down onto the cage in front of him. He opened his lips as if to speak, but found it difficult to articulate what he felt. Picking up on his apparent speechlessness, Tony squatted in front of him and looked up into the blushing shepherd’s eyes, his voice softening now but retaining the same firm assuredness that proliferated his entire being. “How about I help you put it on, would that help, pup?” The shepherd could only nod shakily in response, his breaths still coming in heavy and deep as his entire being seemed to grow warm and vibrate in excision and stimulation. The arcanine gently pushed on the shepherd’s shoulders and repositioned him onto his back. Scooching over onto the couch he unbuckled the shepherd’s jeans and slid them down, following with his underwear. Richard’s member had begun to grow slowly after he had been approached by the arcanine’s offer but had not yet reached full erection. Tsk-tsking at the apparent excitement the canine was displaying, Tony worked efficiently and quickly at sliding the tube over the shepherd's not yet fully excited head and looping the support ring underneath his testicles. Richard felt a firm pressure on his jewels, which increased to a more distinct pressing feeling as he heard a soft click, and then a louder one as the cage was locked firmly into place. His member now strained against his confines, but to no relief as the plastic prison kept his erotic excitement firmly and securely in check. Tony grinned, and almost cooed as he said. “Looks like our little friend here is having a hard time containing himself! It’s a good thing I was around to make sure that he doesn’t get himself into trouble now, no?” Tony’s words washed over him like a stimulating wave of air, causing a shiver to run through him as both tone and context of what the arcanine said turned him on immensely. The amateur baseball player had a charm and confidence that the shepherd could find almost irresistible. He couldn’t help but blushing slightly, as he gazed into the arcanine’s eyes, feelings of attraction and yearning coursing through his veins as he strained against the cage around his member. Tony offered a paw to him and helped Richard up to his feet before helping him redress, surprising him by delivering an impassioned and deliberate kiss on the shepherd’s cheek, causing him to his great embarrassment to stammer a little bit in response. Tony’s eyes glistened as he let out a loud laugh, grinning broadly and looking directly into Richard’s eyes and winking confidently. “Oh Rick, this is going to be more fun than I could have possibly imagined, I figured you were a total sub but to this extent? I think this is going to be a luxurious time.”

Hello everyone, it’s been a while, and I’d like to try my hand at writing again. I know this particular concept isn’t exactly original, but I wanted to do something that doesn’t take place in the Diaper Dimension. This story ignores the Covid-19 pandemic, since I started writing it a long time ago before all that happened. I hope you enjoy what I have so far anyway! ############ Prologue: Day 7,118 Name: Emory Mason DOB: 21/07/2002 CIN: D14R5721 Citizen Lifestyle Assignment Sorting and Sectioning (CLASS) Result: Little Emory stares at the letter in disbelief. She feels numb. Hollowed out. She’s always been good at hiding it, making the profilers say whatever she wants them to say. It’s not hard, the questions are pretty straightforward, the answers easy to manipulate. Or at least, they had been until now. Her eyes burn, tears welling up, making the letter impossible to read--not that it matters now anyway. She’d been a fool to think she could manipulate the results of the most comprehensive, and thorough personality test ever conceived. Although, she thinks, there was more to this test than the basic questionnaire she’d filled out every year at school. Those had been simple things, designed to help the teacher understand their class. The actual CLASS exam had been a different beast altogether. There’d been bloodwork, physical ability tests, cognitive assessments...much more than she’d been expecting. She’s always done well in school, and although she’s no athlete; she’s too small and underweight to really be able to participate in sports, she likes to think she’s in good shape. But in the end, it’s the bloodwork that has given her away, her body has betrayed her in ways she hadn’t anticipated--enzymes and hormone levels can’t be fabricated, not without drugs, and a positive drug test before Classification is an immediate prison sentence. “No…” Emory whispers quietly. Her life is ending. All her careful answers to the questionnaires, all the effort she’d put into studying and getting good grades to get into a good university...all wasted. Her parents will disown her--they’ve made no secret of their hatred for Littles, they see them as inferior, a drain on the resources of society. All her friends are either Neutrals or Caregivers, but all the Caregivers are spoken for, and none of the Neutrals are at a point in their life where they can foster her until she finds a permanent placement. The only other Caregiver she knows is her roommate, Melody, but Melody’s never said anything about having a little, so that might not be an option either--she might not even want one... Emory might be able to continue her university education, but not without a Caregiver to sponsor her, and she certainly won’t be able to live unsupervised, like the adult she’s so desperately worked to become. “No!” She howls, and crumbles the letter into a tiny ball. Not that it matters, not really, every Federal, State, and Local agency already has her classification on file--the letter is really just a formality. She’s had her phone on silent, delaying the inevitable as long as possible until now, but she can’t hide from the results anymore. That realization is like a sucker punch, knocking the breath from her lungs and tying her stomach into an anxious, aching knot. She flops bonelessly onto the sofa, hugs a pillow to her chest, and sobs. The weight of her despair is crushing, the ache of her dreams being shattered winds around her chest like a band, squeezing the life out of her. Emory fumbles for her phone, crying and shaking so badly that she can barely dial the number she needs. “Hey, Emmy, I just got done at work, is everything okay?” Emory sucks in a shaky breath, forcing herself to control her breathing so she can speak. “Mellie, you gotta come home…” she chokes out, hiccupping. “Em, you sound really upset, what happened?” Melody’s voice is unbelievably tender and gentle, and the bands around Emory’s chest loosen a little. “I got my results today…” “Oh? Were they not what you expected?” “I’m...I’m a Little…” Emory manages to explain, before bursting into tears again. She’s said it out loud now, so it’s real, and definitive and inescapable. “Okay. It’s gonna be okay, Emmy, I promise. I need you to listen to me very carefully though, alright?” Emory nods, then realizes that Melody can’t actually see her. “Mhmm.” “I put an Emergency Littles Kit in the medicine cabinet. It comes in a bright blue box with a white ribbon on the front, like a Christmas present. I need you to get it for me and open it okay? I’ll be right here with you the whole time.” “O-okay…” Emory forces herself to get up and go to the bathroom; her legs feel like they’re made of lead. She opens the medicine cabinet and takes out the box. Inside the box are four round candies that look kind of like lifesavers, one each of green, yellow, purple, and a clear one. There’s a chart on the inside of the lid, with the color of the candies and a corresponding string of letters and numbers, but it’s indecipherable to Emory. “I’ve got it Melody…” Emory sniffles, sitting down on the closed toilet lid. “Good. You’re doing such a wonderful job Emmy. I need you to taste the candies and tell me which one you like best. If you don’t like one, you can just spit it out into the garbage, okay?” “Okay. Here goes…” Emory says, swallowing nervously. The green and yellow candies taste horrible, and she spits them out immediately. The purple candy tastes incredible, and she feels a little less awful after eating it, though she does wish there were more of them. The clear candy is completely bland--not as bad as the first two, but she spits it out anyway. “I’m all done. I really like the purple one, but the green and yellow ones were nasty. The clear one didn’t really taste like anything.” “Alright. I’m going to be home in five minutes. I want you to go into the living room and turn on Super Squad; you like that show, right?” “Yeah…” Emory frowns. She’d never really thought anything of her interest in the childish TV show until now, and it irritates her that she’d been so oblivious. “Good. Just try to relax and wait for me to get back, alright? I have to go so I can drive.” “Okay...I’ll see you when you get back, I guess. Drive safe.” “I will. See you soon.” Melody replies, and then she hangs up. A fresh wave of tears rolls down Emory’s cheeks at the silence, and she shuffles out to the living room to follow Melody’s instructions. She curls up on the couch dejectedly with her pillow, trying to focus on the cheerful music and whimsical nature of the cartoon, but it doesn’t really help all that much--she’s too busy catastrophizing, imagining all the ways her life is about to be upended. She feels so incredibly alone and vulnerable, and the only thing she can do is watch TV and cry about it. After what feels like a lot longer than five minutes, Melody is kneeling down in front of Emory. “Oh, sweetheart...you’ve had a rough day, haven’t you?” Melody says, in the same gentle, lilting voice she’d used on the phone. Her face is kind and understanding, her brown eyes warm and inviting. She’s put her hair up today, in a messy bun. Her hair is a slightly darker shade of brown than Emory’s. She opens her arms for a hug, and Emory lunges into her arms, bursting into tears all over again. “Mellie...What am I gonna do?” Emory presses her face into Melody’s chest. She’s probably getting Melody’s shirt all snotty, but Melody only holds onto her tighter. She smells like baby powder and vanilla, and her embrace is warm and safe. At least for now, Emory doesn’t feel quite so terrible. “Shhh, honey.” Melody reaches underneath Emory’s shirt to rub her back. The skin-to-skin contact is soothing, and it helps to ground Emory amidst the swirl of emotion she’s feeling. “One thing at a time. I know this must be pretty scary for you, but I promise, it’s gonna be okay. First, we’re gonna cuddle here for a little bit until you’re calmer. Then, we’re gonna get you in a nice warm bath, and then we’re going to go to the store for some things, okay. We’re not gonna worry about anything else for right now.” Emory wants to protest, to say that of course she’s worried about literally everything else, but she doesn’t. Melody seems so sure that things will work out, so in control of a situation that’s completely unfamiliar to her, it seems foolish to argue. “Okay…” Melody rocks them for a bit, continuing to rub Emory’s back. The fact that Melody is so much bigger than her had always bothered Emory, because she’d wanted to be seen as an equal, which was hard to accomplish with Melody being so much taller than her. But now, it’s not so bad, since Melody can easily hold her. As much as she wants to deny it, Melody’s affections really are helping to calm her down. Melody stands and carries Emory into the kitchen, before sitting her down on the counter and filling up a glass with water. “Here,” Melody says gently. “You must be thirsty.” Emory nods and drains the glass; she hadn’t realized that she was thirsty until Melody’d mentioned it, and she drinks a second glass, then half of a third for good measure. “Thanks. I guess I was really thirsty.” “You’re welcome. You said you liked the purple candy?” Melody asks as she puts the used glass into the sink next to Emory. Emory nods, smiling a little at the memory of the taste. “It was really good! There was a chart on the inside of the lid, but I don’t know what the codes mean.” She reaches out to hold onto Melody’s shirt, keeping her close. Even the little bit of distance between them now seems like too much, like the world might just swallow her up in her newfound helplessness. Melody smiles gently and presses a kiss to Emory’s forehead. “That’s because those codes aren’t for you to worry about honey. Those are for me, so I know what to put into the kiosk at the Little’s Supply store--it will generate a shopping list for us to make sure we don’t miss anything. The candy should help you to feel a little more relaxed for the rest of the day.” “Oh.” Emory frowns as an awful thought occurs to her. “Will you take me to an assignment center? I know I won’t be allowed to live on my own, and I’m not sure if you even wanted a Little or not, so…” Melody raises an eyebrow, and Emory suddenly feels chastised and small. “Didn’t I just say that we’re not gonna worry about all that right now?” Emory looks at her lap, eyes welling up with tears all over again. “Yeah. Sorry.” Melody smiles and lifts Emory onto her hip. “It’s okay, sweetheart. And no, I’m not going to take you to an assignment center, those places are horrible. I don’t have a Little, because I haven’t really bonded with anyone in that way yet. Taking on a Little is kind of a big deal, you know, it’s a big commitment and a lot of responsibility. Caregivers are required to do lots of stuff to make sure Littles are taken care of, and if things don’t go well, we can end up in a lot of trouble.” “Really? I didn’t know that…” “Yeah. Mostly it’s just to make sure that Littles aren’t taken advantage of or abused. If someone takes on a Little, then they’re required to provide for them, just like you would for a child. There are things to help with all that of course--the government gives out a pretty hefty stipend to make sure people have enough money to get what they need, but it doesn’t always get used for the things it should be. Some Caregivers are only after status, and they’ll use the money on themselves and neglect their Little in the process.” “Oh.” Emory nibbles her thumb absently. “That seems pretty scary.” “Not really. It’s just something you’ve gotta take seriously. Sometimes Littles and Caregivers will have to part ways like if the Caregiver gets sick and can’t be responsible for the Little anymore. But outside of really serious stuff like that, it’s very difficult to separate from someone once you’ve made that commitment, at least legally speaking.” “Is that why you don’t have a Little yet?” Emory wonders. “Partly. I don’t want to let anyone down, you know? I mean, I know I can handle it, it’s just a lot to think about before making a decision. And, not all Caregivers are the kind who want Littles. Some people just like to help others in need--a lot of firefighters and police and stuff are Caregiver types. And, not all Littles need to have a Caregiver around all the time--it really depends on the person.” “Wow. That is a lot to think about.” Emory plays with Melody’s hair thoughtfully. “But don’t worry. Right now, I’m going to take care of you.” Melody heads back into the living room and then sits down on the couch with Emory in her lap. Do you mind if I read your letter? I’m gonna need some info from it for when we go to LS later on.” “Sure.” Emory uncrumples it as best she can and hands it over. “Does it say anything bad? I don’t really understand the technical stuff.” Melody is quiet for a moment while she reads, pausing occasionally to take notes on her phone, and then she smiles at Emory. “No, it doesn’t. It basically just says that you’ll be required to have supervision at all times. It also says that you’ll need diapers if I’m reading the section on bloodwork correctly--the rest of that stuff at the end is just info for the machine at the store.” Emory frowns and folds her arms. “How is having to wear diapers not a bad thing? What if I don’t want to be supervised all the time?” “The supervision is for your safety, and as far as the diapers go, you might not need them right away, but it’s indicated in your letter. You don’t want to be having accidents all the time do you?” Emory frowns. “No...but I’ve never really had a big problem with that.” “That’s part of why getting Classified is so important. You wouldn’t want that to be a surprise, would you?” “I guess not. But I haven’t had any accidents for a long time. I don’t see why it would just suddenly become a problem now.” “It’s different from person to person. Some Littles have accidents all their lives, and some only start having them after classification. The genetic markers in your bloodwork that identify you as a Little all activate at different speeds for different people. You might not be having problems now, but they’re coming, and it’s better to be prepared, right?” “Yeah...I don’t want to be a Little though.” “I’m sorry sweetheart. But there’s nothing that can be done about it. Just like you can’t help how tall you are or what color eyes you have. It’s not a terrible thing though, I promise.” “It’s not fair.” Emory points out. “I know. But that’s the way it is. Thank you for letting me read your letter. I know it’s a big adjustment, but I really think you’ll be happier once everything isn’t so new and different to what you’re used to. And I’m gonna be here to help you too.” “Thanks…Won’t you be in trouble at your job though? If you’re here with me?” Emory wonders. “No. There are all kinds of legal protections for Caregivers who live with someone who gets classified as a Little. They don’t last forever, but there’s nothing to worry about yet. I don’t actually need to go into the office anyway, it’s just nice to get out of the house sometimes.” Emory lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and rests against Melody’s chest. Her future is still very uncertain, but knowing that Melody will be with her makes it a little less terrifying. “You’re very welcome, munchkin. Now, what do you say we get you into a nice, warm bath, and then we’ll get ready to go to the store. Sound good?” Emory nods, nibbling on the thumb of her free hand. “Yeah.” And then, before she can stop herself she says: “Will you stay? I don’t wanna be alone right now…” Melody scoops her up and settles her on her hip. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time. I know this must be really overwhelming for you. Just relax and let me handle everything okay? We’ll talk more about what to do next in the morning; right now we’re just going to try and relax. You just do what feels natural to you, okay, I’m not going to judge you or tease you.” Emory slips her thumb into her mouth experimentally, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, but Melody doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. She feels a few soothing pats against her bottom, and she just relaxes into Melody, feeling safer than she has in a long time. She’s conflicted--she knows she should be mortified, appalled at herself even. But, all the same, she...isn’t. Emory’s life has been turned upside down in an instant, and if Melody is volunteering to navigate this crazy situation for her, maybe it’s best to just let her. And besides, maybe knowing her...tendencies as a Little will be helpful in the future. “Do you want bubbles in your bath tonight, Emmy?” Melody asks, setting Emory down on the floor so she can begin filling the tub. “Yes please.” Emory says around her thumb, taking hold of Melody’s shirt again. She squirms, the tiles are cold against her feet, and her bladder has begun signaling that it’s probably time to start heading for the toilet. It throbs painfully, and Emory can feel her eyes welling up with tears all over again. “Mellie, I gotta-” And that’s as far as she gets before her bladder throbs again, and then she’s wetting herself, liquid splashing down the inside of her thighs and dripping onto the floor beneath her. She just stands there, wet and pathetic and horrified by what she’s just done. Sure, she’s had her share of close calls, but she hasn’t actually had an accident like this since she was a little kid. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Accidents happen, it’s not a big deal.” Melody pulls Emory into a hug despite her wet clothes, and Emory is eternally grateful for the comfort. Melody’s statement doesn’t feel very true to Emory, but it’s easier not to be so upset about it since Melody isn’t bothered by it. “Okay, Emmy, I need you to put your hands on my shoulders so you don’t fall, alright? I’m gonna help you get out of these wet clothes.” Melody’s voice is soothing and gentle as she helps Emory to get undressed. Emory’s beginning to feel like she’ll never stop crying at this rate. “I can-I can do it myself…” She hiccups and tries in vain to stop the flow of tears. “Shhh, babe, it’s okay.” Melody soothes. “I know you can. But, I’ve got it this time, okay? Emmy, please, just let me help you.” Emory doesn’t really feel embarrassed at being naked in front of Melody; it’s not the first time it’s happened, and anyway, she mostly just hopes she doesn’t pee on the floor again. The air in the bathroom is cool against her skin, and she shivers, hugging herself for warmth. “Come here,” Melody says softly, gathering Emory to her. She presses a kiss to Emory’s temple. “How are you feeling right now?” “Lost. Scared. Angry. Confused...Sad...It’s a lot. I had my whole life planned out, a good career, a nice apartment on the ritzy side of town...But it doesn’t matter now.” “Just because you’re a Little, doesn’t mean you can’t be successful. Sure, you might not be able to live on your own or do certain jobs, but there’s plenty of stuff out there for you if you want it.” “But-” Emory begins to protest some more, but Melody interrupts by taking her by the shoulders and giving her a serious look. “Shh. No more ‘buts’. I know you probably have tons of questions, and I will answer all of them, tomorrow, after you’ve had a good night’s sleep. This is how things are now, and you can either spend your energy worrying over how things are going to be, or you can try to be open about the experience and take things as they come. I promise you, I won’t let anything bad happen to you okay? So try to relax. I’ve got you.” Melody presses a kiss to Emory’s forehead, probably to emphasize her point. Emory nods. “Okay.” “Is this a good temperature for the water?” Melody asks, as she adds the bubble bath solution to the tub. Emory tests the water, and is pleasantly surprised to find that it’s just the right temperature. It usually takes her a bit of fiddling to get the water how she likes it, and Melody has nailed it on the first try. It’s a small thing, but it makes it a little easier to put her trust in Melody to look after her. “It’s just right,” Emory says with a smile. “Good,” Melody answers, smiling back at her before lifting her into the tub. “Do you want to wash on your own this time?” It’s a simple question with monumental implications. Emory sucks on her thumb absently, thinking. The warm water has eased her stress levels a bit more, and she’s beginning to realize how worn-out she feels. She thinks back to what Melody’d said earlier, about experiencing this new reality and taking things as they come, and she makes her decision. “Could you do it please?” Emory says around her thumb. “Sure thing! You just sit back and relax. Thank you for trusting me little one, it means a lot to me.” Melody says, and reaches for the soap and washcloth. Part of Emory is irritated at the new nickname. But, if she’s being honest with herself, it makes her feel warm inside, and it’s not really all that embarrassing either. The cognitive dissonance is exhausting and it’s giving her a headache. She doesn’t have the energy to keep protesting and behaving like pre-Classification Emory would. So, she decides to just let Melody take charge for the night. Melody is very gentle when she scrubs Emory down, but not so gentle that it’s inefficient, and she even takes extra special care to avoid getting soap in Emory’s eyes. When she’s finished, she pulls the plug on the drain and wraps Emory in a big, fluffy towel before picking her up again. “Thank you Mellie. That was...really nice.” Emory says honestly. “You’re welcome sweetie. Now, let’s get you dressed, and we’ll head over to the Littles Supply. Do you want to get ice cream when we’re finished there?” Emory nods. Ice cream sounds like the perfect comfort food after a day like today. Melody brings her to her room instead of going to Emory’s and lays her down on the bed. “Stay still, okay munchkin? I’ll just be a sec.” Melody rummages around in her closet for a moment before getting a moderately-sized blue bag with the same ribbon on it as the ELK from the top shelf. She takes out a plain white diaper, powder, and some lotion, as well as a pastel purple onesie with a snap crotch. Emory fidgets, uncertain. She’s a little embarrassed, but she’s also very curious about how it’s going to feel to be in a diaper for the first time since she was a baby. “This will only take a minute, sweetheart. Try not to wiggle around too much, okay?” Emory nods and slips her thumb into her mouth again. “‘Kay.” She says softly. Melody puts lotion on her entire body, not just her diaper area, which she hadn’t been expecting. It’s hard not to squirm, since Melody seems to have a knack for finding all of her ticklish spots, but she does her best. The lotion has a very pleasant smell though, so she doesn’t mind. Melody doesn’t even ask Emory to do anything during the diapering portion of the process, she just lifts Emory by the ankles before sliding the diaper under her. She dusts Emory with powder before pulling the diaper up between her legs and securing it snugly with the tapes. The smell of baby powder and lotion in combination is incredibly relaxing, and it takes Emory a moment to realize that Melody is talking to her. “Are you okay?” Emory nods, giving an experimental wiggle. The diaper isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s definitely going to take some getting used to. Still, it’s not nearly as bad as she’d been afraid it would be. “Mhmm.” She answers. “It actually feels kinda nice…” “Oh? Well, I’m glad to hear that!” Melody says, before helping Emory to sit up. “Arms up, please.” Emory complies so Melody can dress her in the onesie, which feels strange, but like the diaper, it isn’t uncomfortable either. She smiles at the realization, maybe this won’t be so bad after all. Melody reaches into the bag and takes out a black pair of overalls and an oversized purple hair bow and helps Emory dress before tying her hair back in a ponytail. She takes a few items out of the bag and sets them aside--apparently there were different sizes of everything in, and they’d only needed what Emory was wearing. Emory looks at the pile and is kind of embarrassed to realize that the only size missing from the pile is ‘extra small’ and she hadn’t thought that she was that tiny… Melody helps Emory stand and guides her in front of the mirror. “All done, what do you think?” Melody wonders. Emory blinks at her reflection, her own blue eyes staring back at her. Her lighter brown hair is tied back with the oversized bow that Melody had taken from the bag, and she realizes that she looks like a toddler, only a bit bigger. She’s a little embarrassed to notice that the overalls also have snaps in the crotch, but other than that, it’s a pretty normal-looking outfit. She’d even go so far as to say it’s cute...And, as an added bonus, the diaper isn’t obvious at all, it’s the snaps in the crotch that give that away. “I like it. It’s comfier than I thought It would be, but walking around in a diaper feels a little weird.” Emory confesses, turning to look up at Melody. “I’m glad you like it. The bag didn’t leave me with many options, but you’ll have a chance to pick some things out at the LS. They make some pretty cute stuff, but it’s okay if you prefer the plainer side of the spectrum.” Emory shrugs. “I’m not sure what I’d like best...I’ll have to see what they’ve got.” She feels a little nervous at the prospect of going out in public as a Little for the first time, and without really thinking about it, she lifts her arms toward Melody, hoping to be picked up. It’s only after she’s lifted into Melody’s arms that it dawns on her what she’d just done. “Alright, little one, let’s get a move on. I’d like to get you to bed at a reasonable time tonight, and we have lots to do.” Part of Emory bristles at the thought of being given a bedtime, but she ignores it and says: “Okay.” Melody smiles and kisses Emory’s temple--Emory doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of being shown affection like that, and she snuggles a little closer to Melody without really meaning too. Melody pats Emory’s bottom; it’s something she’s done many times before, but it’s somehow more comforting now, and it makes it easy to put aside her fears of going out. “Don’t worry,” Melody says as she heads for the door. “I’ve got you.” *~*~*~*~* The Littles Supply store isn’t very busy when they arrive. Or, at least it doesn’t seem that way, as Emory spends most of her time looking at the ground. She still hasn’t gotten used to walking in a diaper, and she’s almost sure she looks a little awkward. She just holds Melody’s hand and tries to keep pace with her much longer stride. “Well hello there!” Someone says. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?” Emory can feel her face heating up a little and she makes herself look up to see who’s speaking to her. There’s a lady sitting in a chair by the entrance with red hair, blue eyes, and a bright smile who’s waving at her. She’s got on a name tag that says ‘Beth’, with the Littles Supply logo on it. Emory moves a bit so she’s mostly behind Melody. The employee’s greeting doesn’t scare her, not exactly, it’s just that she feels kind of exposed, and she isn’t quite sure that she’s ready to be seen like this by people other than Melody. “Hi…” Emory answers, very quietly, giving the employee a small wave. “Aww, someone’s a little shy today. That’s okay. Would you like a lollipop or a sticker?” Emory shuffles forward a bit to see her choices, before looking back at Melody to make sure this is okay with her. Melody smiles at her and gestures at her to continue. “Go on sweetheart, it’s alright. Pick anything you like.” “You can have one of each if you’d like.” Beth whispers, like she’s letting Emory in on some big secret. Emory gasps a little in surprise without really meaning to. “Wow…” After a moment of deliberation she chooses a purple lollipop and a sticker that says ‘Superstar’ with a golden star wearing sunglasses. “Thank you.” Emory says in a small voice, and then goes back to Melody, taking her hand immediately. She hands the sticker to Melody once they’re inside the store. “Oh, is this for me?” Melody wonders. Emory nods. “Mhmm. I just wanted to say thanks for taking care of me. I’m really glad you’re my friend.” She feels like she’s said too much, but it’s too late to take it back now. “Aww, thank you sweetie.” Melody says, and puts the sticker on her shirt. She stops in front of the carts, some of which are much bigger than the usual-sized ones and looks at Emory. “Do you want to ride in the cart? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” “Yes please.” Emory says, she’s already feeling kind of drained from the day, and the less walking she has to do, the better. Melody lifts her gently into the cart. “If you want to get out to look at stuff, just let me know, okay?” Emory nods. Their next stop is the kiosk that Melody had talked about earlier. It’s kind of unassuming, just a big screen with a keyboard under it and a little printer beside it that has a sign above it that says: ‘First Time? Start Here’. Melody pauses to consult her notes, types a few things into the machine, and after a moment, the printer whirs to life and spits out a ribbon of paper. “Okay, we’ve got our list. Are you ready to get started?” Melody asks. Emory nods. “Alright then, Off we go!” Melody says cheerfully. The store is a lot like the other big-box retailers in town, but it sells exclusively stuff for Littles, everything from clothing to those giant inflatable bouncy castles. Their first stop is the section Emory has been dreading the most, the diaper aisle. There are tons of options to pick from, and although she’d rather not even be in this section, she knows that it won’t do any good to complain about it. She looks around at the packages and finds herself drawn to the ones with animal designs and some of the ones with spaceships and stars. “I like those.” Emory says, pointing to them. Melody takes a box of each of them and puts them into the cart. “Those are pretty cute.” Melody says. “We can have more delivered to the house in bulk, so we’re not gonna get a bunch right now. Do you see any other kinds you like?” Emory points out a few more that also get put into the cart. They head to the next aisle, one that has pacifiers, bottles and formula on one side, and various comfort items like blankets on the other. “You don’t need to have formula, don’t worry.” Melody says before Emory can ask. “But you are going to need a cup with some kind of no-spill lid. Do you want to pick some, or do you want me to just go by the designs on your diapers?” Emory shrugs, blushing a little at ‘your diapers’. It’s true, but it’s still kind of embarrassing to hear it out loud. “You can pick. I think I’d probably take forever, and I’m kind of tired.” “Okay. If you see anything you like just shout.” Melody says, and begins sifting through items and putting them in the cart. Emory lets her eyes wander before they land on a bottle with zoo animals that comes with a matching set of pacifiers and a very soft blanket. “Can I have that? Please?” It’s embarrassing to ask for it, but she really wants it, so she swallows her pride. Melody adds it to their rapidly filling cart. “Of course you can. Thank you for using such good manners, sweetheart.” She tosses in a few other pacifiers and clips for good measure. Emory smiles at the praise. They turn the corner into the next aisle, one that has carseats, some of which are just upscaled versions of seats for toddlers. “Wow...They’re huge!” Emory points out. “Yep. They’re meant to replace the actual seat in the car. We’ll just get a ticket and take it up front, and they’ll install it overnight. There’s a shuttle that will take us home, and we can come back in the morning for the car. If you were a little bigger, we could probably just get away with replacing the seatbelt with a harness, and you could still sit up front. but I think the full-size carseat is the would be the safest option for you. Do you wanna try some of them out and see which ones you like?” Emory feels a bit sad at the realization that her days of sitting up front are over, but nods. All of the seats are comfortable, but she settles on a black one with light blue cushioning. It’s got a cupholder, a built-in charging port for her phone and it even reclines. It’s a little on the pricier side though, and that makes her think of something else. “Um, Mellie? How am I gonna pay for all this stuff?” “When you got classified as a Little, there was an account set up in your name that’s tied to the ID on your letter. You’ll get a card for it later, but until you get a Caregiver, the government stipend for Little care will go into that account. All we have to do is put in that ID number at the register, and everything will be taken care of. Didn’t you read any of the info things they gave you at Classification?” Emory shakes her head. “Only the ones for Neutrals and Caregivers. I was so sure I wasn’t gonna end up as a Little that I didn’t bother with those.” She realizes as she says it that that lack of foresight is exactly the kind of thing one would expect from a Little. It seems so obvious now… “That’s okay. We can talk more about all that later. We’re almost done, we just need to get you a crib, a changing table, and some clothes. Unless you want to look at some toys first? I know you’ve got your computer at home and the Playstation, but I thought you might want to do some other things sometimes too.” “I have to sleep in a crib too?” Emory frowns. It doesn’t sound all that bad, but she feels like she should protest on principle. “Yes, babe. Don’t worry, you’ll still be able to get out in case of emergency, and I’ll put a monitor in your room in case you need something.” Mallory explains. “I can’t really have you up and roaming around the house if I’m not awake to watch you, at least until we Little-proof things.” Emory huffs. “I’m not gonna go around sticking forks in light sockets or eating the dishwasher soap thingies, Mellie.” “I know, but you aren’t really in Littlespace right now either. Once you get more comfortable with things, I think you might be surprised. Besides, you can keep your TV and stuff so if you wake up before me, you won’t have to sit in there and be bored.” Emory just pouts. “Do you want to look at toys after we’re done picking out your crib and changing table?” Emory smiles. Even before she’d gotten Classified, she’d enjoyed walking through the toy section just to look around, even if she’d only ever gotten her stuffed bear, Rufus, from there. “Okay!” It doesn’t take them long to order their furniture, but Emory lets Melody handle that part. She does hope that the people coming to install it don’t take a long time to do so though; she’s uncomfortable enough with all this without a bunch of strange people in her house... Emory stays close to Melody at first when they get to the toy section, since none of the toys for the really little Littles are very interesting. The shape-sorting toy seems like it would get boring pretty fast. She does like the blocks though, and gets a pretty big assortment of those. The aisle with all the Legos is the most exciting though, since she’d always loved playing with them as a child, and it’s really cool to see how complex some of the things she could build are now. She spends more time than she probably should browsing, and when she looks up to ask Melody if she can get a few things, she realizes that Melody is...gone. Inwardly, Emory knows that Melody wouldn’t abandon her, but she can’t stop herself from panicking. She manages to stave it off momentarily by remembering that she can just call Melody and ask where she is. But, when she pats herself down, looking for her phone, she remembers that it’s still on the floor at home. The gravity of being alone hits her like a freight train; now that she’s a Little, she doesn’t have many options for getting back home by herself. Without her phone, she can’t use a ride-sharing service to get home, if she’s even allowed to do that now, and she knows for a fact that buses won’t take unattended Littles either. She might even get taken to an Assignment Center. Her breathing picks up, and her vision blurs as she bursts into tears, her heart jackhammering away inside her chest. Before she can really start crying, someone’s pulling her into a tight hug--she knows it’s Melody by the smell of her perfume. “Oh, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Why all these tears, hmm?” Emory just cries, unable to pull herself together quickly enough to respond right away. She just holds on tighter to Melody. “Can you tell Mellie what’s wrong, little one? I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.” “I c-couldn’t see you. An’ I got scared…” Emory chokes out. “I’m sorry little love, I thought you heard me when I said I was going to the next aisle over for a minute. You know I’d never leave you here all by yourself, right? Never ever.” That makes Emory feel a little better, and she feels kind of silly for getting so worked up over such a little thing. “I know…’M sorry I freaked out like that…” “You don’t ever have to be sorry for having feelings, Emmy. It’s perfectly okay to cry if you’re scared. Did you find anything you’d like?” Emory nods and gives Melody a watery smile before moving to show her what she’d been looking at. After picking out a few things, they move on to the clothing section. Their trip through the clothing section is by far the longest part of their visit to the store. Emory gets out to help Melody pick out some things--she gravitates toward the plainer, pastel colors, but Melody is definitely a fan of the more overtly cute stuff with designs and little sayings on it. Thankfully, she doesn’t pick out anything too outlandish. And that’s when it happens. Emory’s trailing behind Melody a bit, pausing to look at things, but always making sure that she can see Melody, when her bladder throbs. She suddenly regrets her decision to drink so much water earlier and she knows immediately that she doesn’t have long to get to a toilet. And, with the extra steps to undress because of the overalls, onesie, and diaper, she isn’t even really sure that she can. She squirms a bit and opens her mouth to let Melody know what’s going on, when her bladder fails entirely with a painful spasm, and she wets her diaper. She stands there awkwardly, brow furrowing at the unfamiliar sensation. She’d had to go even more than she’d realized, and she ends up rooted to the spot, hoping she can finish before Melody notices what’s happening, as unlikely as that is. The feeling of wetting her diaper isn’t bad, but it’s foreign to her, not to mention embarrassing. She’s glad to be wearing it though, since no one knows what’s happened except her, and maybe--probably--Melody. At least she hasn’t left a puddle on the floor… Emory looks up to see Melody in front of her, arms open for a hug, like she knows exactly what just happened. Emory doesn’t waste any time taking advantage of the offer. “‘M sorry…” Emory says quietly, fighting back tears for the umpteenth time that day. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Emmy” Melody soothes quietly, rubbing Emory’s back. “That’s what your diaper is for. It’s better than leaving a mess, right?” Emory nods. Melody reaches down to pat Emory’s bottom. “Your diaper can hold a lot more than that, but I understand if you want to get changed now. We’ve got a little time before the shuttle gets here to take us home, and they already set up delivery for your diapers, so we don’t need to do that. We can hurry and go to get ice cream after we pay, or I can change your diaper, but we might not have time for ice cream after that.” “But you said we could…” Emory feels her eyes welling up with tears at the thought of missing out on ice cream. She rubs them gently with her fists, trying to stop herself from crying again, and sort of surprises herself when she yawns. “Oh, little one, you’re so tired...I know I did. Can you wait to get changed until we get home?” Emory nods. A wet diaper doesn’t feel great, but it’s not terribly uncomfortable either. And besides, it’s worth enduring if it means she gets ice cream. “I can wait…” “Okay.” Melody says and fishes a tissue out of her purse. She holds it up to Emory’s nose. “Blow, sweetheart.” she says, and Emory does. Emory’s thumb drifts toward her mouth, but Melody stops her. “Oh no, Emmy, don’t do that, it’s icky. We’ve been touching lots of stuff that other people have handled, and I don’t want you to get sick. Do you want to try a pacifier instead?” Emory thinks about it for a moment, and then nods. No one has teased her or mocked her since she arrived at the store, so maybe she’s worried over nothing. Melody hunts through her bag for a moment before finding one, it’s the same shade of purple as Emory’s shirt.. She takes out a clip for the pacifier and clips it to Emory’s shirt for her. “There you go, sweetheart.” Emory gives it an experimental suck, and realizes two things: First, that it’s faintly vanilla flavored, and secondly that it’s way better than sucking her thumb. She suckles on it happily and smiles at Melody. “Thank you!” Melody chuckles. “You’re too cute. You’re very welcome Emmy. Do you want to walk, or ride in the cart to go back up front?” “I can walk,” Emory says, afraid she’ll fall asleep if she sits in the cart, and she doesn’t want to miss out on her opportunity for ice cream. “That’s fine. Hold my hand though, I don’t want you to get lost.” Melody says. “I’m not gonna get lost…” Emory protests. “Emmy, you almost got lost earlier because you weren’t paying attention. We’re not gonna do that again, okay? I know this is all very new to you, but I need you to listen to me.” “I can do it myself!” Emory responds, too loudly, and stomps her foot without really meaning to. She’s exhausted and out-of-sorts, and it’s so hard to keep a lid on her emotions when everything is so new and overwhelming. “Excuse me? That’s not a very nice way to talk to someone, Emmy.” Melody says, raising an eyebrow, and taking Emory by the shoulders. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. I know you can do it yourself, but I don’t think that’s a very good choice right now, do you?” Emory harrumphs and turns around to face away from Melody, too upset with everything to speak. She’s mad at herself for not being able to control her emotions better, mad at Melody for not letting her prove that she’s capable of doing things on her own, and mad at the Classification test for doing this to her. “I’m mad!” she says, like it isn’t already obvious. “That’s okay.” Melody says, and her calm, gentle voice is somehow even more irritating--a reminder of how grown-up and in-control she is, everything that Emory isn’t. “You’re allowed to be mad. Do you need a minute to calm down so we can talk?” Emory folds her arms and flops down onto her butt without answering. She’s grateful for her diaper, since sitting down so hard would definitely have hurt otherwise. She feels Melody’s lips against the top of her head. “Okay.” Melody says. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready to use your words.” Emory’s crying again before she can stop herself. She knows she’s made a mistake, but everything is so different and wrong and it’s hard to know what to do. She gets up and turns around to face Melody, sobbing and reaching for her. “Oh, honey…” Melody’s voice is almost a coo as she lifts Emory into her arms. “We’ve had a stressful day, haven’t we, little one?” She wonders, but she doesn’t seem to expect an answer from Emory. Emory presses her face into Melody’s chest. “‘M sorry!” she bawls. “It’s okay sweetheart, everything is forgiven. But do you understand why I want you to hold my hand?” Emory nods. “So I don’t get lost and scared again.” “That’s right. I don’t like seeing you so upset. Do you know what makes me feel better when I’m sad?” Melody asks. “Cuddles?” Emory ventures. “Yes, do you know what else cheers me up?” Emory shrugs. “Ice cream. Would you like to have some after we pay?” Emory nods. “Yes please.” “I think that can be arranged,” Melody says, and smiles at her before setting her down in the cart. “Let’s go pay for our things.” With their cart piled high with loot, they head for the registers at the front. Emory falls asleep before they get there, dreaming of ice cream.

And we're back! Another new story with diapers and gender stuff and a bit of incest! But, like always, great characters and lots of emotions. You know it's not a Sophie & Pudding story if you make it through without tearing up. Thanks to all our patrons at www.patreon.com/sophieandpudding who support us! This story is already complete on on there if you are impatient babies. ^_~ You can also find every story we've ever written in PDF and ePUB format. ❤️ As always, comments and likes are great motivations to keep posting our stuff for free! Thank you all for reading! -------------------- Disclaimers: diapers, incest, oral, wetting -------------------- Lanny & Hayden By Sophie & Pudding 1.) I was sure that the word 'interesting' would be forever burned into my brother’s brain after today. It would become the word that made him tighten up and wince whenever he heard it. 'Interesting', as innocuous a word as it was, had been the only thing that I'd said when I had walked in on Hayden. I said it with a smile, of course, that sort of amused little smile that carries a lot of confidence. Then I closed the door. And it was interesting, because it wasn't often I found out something new about my twin. I sat down on the sofa in the common room and waited for him to march out with some manner of excuse. My heart was racing. I quickly threw everything back into the locked chest under my bed. Old clothes, I'd always told Landon. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'd kept it secret for nine years, the only real secret I had from my brother. Maybe this wasn't so bad... but Landon wasn't that type of boy. Landon was outlandish and vibrant. He wasn't the "secret-keeping" type. I had no cover story. I had nothing to say to my brother when I made it out into our common room, so I decided to waste what little life he had left with my incessant babbling. "Long story," I said with a blush. "There's this thing in my Behavioral Sciences class, and it's just... it's a weird way to handle the essay, but... I didn't feel like I was writing... very adequately." Adequately was a good word... "You know, if you'd walked in on Lanny, I would almost certainly use that exact same excuse." I grinned. He knew I didn't believe him for a moment, and once he was rational he'd realize I really didn't care either. I did care about one thing though, one little thing that got to me - our synergy. We did everything the same, everything together. We cherished the twin experience much more than most other twins our age. We’d even shared a girlfriend once. "It's not an excuse," I said defensively, and it was only through my knowledge of psychology that I knew to uncross my arms and make eye contact. My cheeks were still red. "And what are you talking about Lanny? Another new girlfriend? You shouldn't keep secrets from your brother, you know." Displacement. "So it's two in the afternoon, which means you didn’t wet the bed again, like when you were ten." When we were ten, and our bedwetting to be fair. "Spill. I want to know everything." My cheeks burned brighter at the mention of the weeks of our past neither of us were particularly proud of. Of course, pride was a strange concept to Landon, and he made sure never to let shame get in the way of anything. On the other hand, there was me. "I have a class to get to." Which wasn't inherently true. I had an hour and a half. I picked my backpack up off the floor of our dorm room and slipped my shoes on my feet. As soon as Hayden got his feet into his shoes I was standing. By the time he realized that I was, he was sitting. Well, sitting insofar as I'd pushed him down onto the sofa and crawled up to straddle his lap, one knee on the sofa on either side. "Spill. Or I'll Inticklegate you." Inticklegation was a remnant game of our childhood that essentially played out with one of us tickling the other until the other revealed their secrets. I rolled my eyes and pushed my brother off me. "I told you. It was for a class. If you don't believe me, then I don't really care." I did care, but he didn't need to know that. I fitted my shoe back on my foot, my cheeks still red, and gathered my belongings again. It wasn't until I was out of the house that I leaned against the stairwell and ran my fingers through my hair. Fuck. What now...? The fact that he'd lied to me and hadn't buckled under the weight of my playfulness meant this was something very serious and I resolved that I'd make it better by the time he got back. Maybe I'd have to introduce him to Lanny sooner than expected. I stressed over our synergy a lot that afternoon, but we could always resynchronize.

Chapter 1: With her lips pressed against the glass bottle, she took a large gulp. Emma didn’t know what she was drinking but only that it made her feel good. It made her feel numb. Her throat burned but she continued to drink, wanting to forget everything. Everyone. The room spun around and around and little twinkly lights sparkled in her eyes. The girl was aware that she was dead drunk. She was also aware that her best friend, Hannah was slumped over against Jack, more drunk than she. They’d broken up just yesterday. It was an ugly, sad fight that had not ended on the right note. But she had not expected him to move on so quickly. Not with Hannah. Never with her self declared sister. Emma giggled so hard that tears formed in her eyes and the bottle slipped from her hand, crashing into a million pieces, but nobody seemed to notice. Nobody ever noticed. Shouts sounded from the back porch. A game of beer pong was being played and In the kitchen, people mixed different drinks together, creating a cocktail of god-knows-what. But Emma stood in the living room. She hissed as the glass shards cut into her bare feet. The slight pain soon became overwhelming as the music pounded in her ears, sending a pulsing beat all the way to her soul. Her body swayed back and forth among the crowd of people. Now, she wasn’t usually into frat parties but was known to let loose every once in a while; and if she was desperate enough then would drink. She glared at the two of them as they sucked each other's faces and his hands groped her body. Emma had given Hannah the dress to borrow. It had never been a favorite of hers because it was too sparkly and tight. But it was exactly her friend’s style. Emma didn’t want it back now. She’d rather burn the damn outfit. Her feet moved on their own accord until she found herself outside, standing in the front yard. The grass was littered with red solo cups and over a dozen cars were parked in the driveway. She sat down and laid back, staring up at the starless night sky. “Emma?” Her head turned to the right. It was Julie Watkins. They were friends… kind of. “What’s wrong?” her eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re crying.” Was she? Her hand hovered below her blue eyes and fingertips were wet. She was. Julie sat down beside her. She was a nice girl. Her thick curly brown hair was pulled back into a long braid that snaked down her back. Her face was narrow, skin pale, and nose long and pointy. “I like your outfit.” Emma sloppily smiled. It was just a graphic t-shirt and denim skirt. Julie laughed. “I like your outfit as well.” Julie was nice. Everyone liked Julie, it was hard not to. Emma wore a plain black halter top and skinny jeans. She wasn’t quite sure where her shoes had gone. “Do you want to tell me why you’re out here crying?” the girl tried again. Emma shrugged. “Did you see Hannah and Jack?” “They’re drunk. I’m sure by tomorrow they won’t remember any of this.” Julie was too kind. How come she couldn’t be her best friend? “My parents are also getting divorced!” she blurted before she could stop herself. Her kind-of-friend was very understanding but Hannah had never been. Fuck Hannah Flynn. Fretfully, she tugged at a wavy lock of her auburn hair and Julie rubbed her back in soothing circles. She was crying again. “Do you want a ride back to your dorm? I haven’t drank anything.” Again, she shrugged, very indecisive at the moment. The whole reason she had come to college was to escape her parents who couldn’t manage to go a day without fighting. Emma thought it would be better being all the way across the country. The University of Seattle was an amazing school. “Let’s go,” said Julie as she stood up. “Do you know where your shoes are?” “No.” The girl sighed. “That’s alright. My car is just around the corner.” Clumsily she pushed herself up, leaning against Julie who was five feet and five inches tall. Emma was only five feet and two inches. She felt short in comparison. “I know what it feels like.” whispered Julie. “My parents divorced when I was eight. I’m not gonna lie, it’s not fun. But everything gets better in time. Just remember that.” The words passed right through her. Emma wasn’t sure what she’d remember by tomorrow. ooOoo She’d spent the past hour of the morning puking in the bathroom and after four ibuprofens for her pounding headache, still felt like shit. Her skin was pale, more so than usual, and clammy. The stuffy hot office only made it worse. The nineteen year old girl sat cross legged on the lumpy brown couch. Last night was a blur but she remembered them vividly making out on the couch. Hannah never came back to the dorm. It wasn’t hard to guess where she was. “Emmaline, can you answer me?” She looked up suddenly. Her counselor, Ms. Newman pursed her lips and shook her head. Her brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun and glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry?” “Are you aware that you’re failing several of your classes? You got into this school on an academic scholarship and your grades right now are less than exemplary. You don’t want to be kicked out, do you?” Did she? Emma really couldn’t answer. “I-I’m going through stuff. I’m sorry but right now isn’t really the best time for… anything.” she tried to explain herself, truly she did. “We were understanding in the beginning but there comes a time when you need to pick yourself up.” Ms. Newman sighed. “You can’t continue this way. Many of your professors have expressed the same concerns.” There was no hiding that she was hung over. “Emma, there are people who want to help you. You’re only a freshman and have so much to look forward to. I understand your parents divorce has hit you hard but it helps to talk to others sometimes. You don’t have to struggle with this alone.” Sharing her feelings with strangers was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d rather jump in front of a train. “I’m going to give you the name of a therapist. She’s free and I’ve sent many students to her before. Trust me, they’re completely new people after they're done with her.” Emma could tell that it wasn’t really a choice and took the piece of paper reluctantly. This woman could spout whatever nonsense she wanted but nothing would change. Her life sucked and would always be that way. Afterward, she went back to her dorm, prepared to take another nap but stopped short. “I’m so sorry!” Hannah exclaimed upon seeing her. Mascara ran down her face and a dark tightly coiled curl stuck to her wet cheek. “I-I was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight and it just sorta happened!” Maybe if she had been thinking rationally, she would’ve been more understanding but at the moment she wanted to strangle the curl and watch as her dark skin lost color. “Fuck you, Han.” her voice was cold. “Of course you went after Jack McCroy! He’s mine-” “You broke up… again! For like the hundredth time!” her voice rose an octave. “I’m sorry that I made a mistake but don’t get angry at me. It’s not my fault that you’ve got a shitty life!” Hannah knew that she had hit her where it hurt. “Em… I- I didn’t mean tha-” “Get out.” Her hands formed into a fist at her side, knuckles white. “Get the fuck out!” She didn't need to ask again. ooOoo Her major was political science. Ever since she was a little girl, Emmaline Rodgers had dreams of becoming the first female president of the United States. However, as she grew older those dreams were quickly squashed as she realized what a misogynistic world she lived in. Now, she just hoped to be something. Anything other than a college drop out. Before, Emma thought she didn’t care but now took it back. The girl didn’t work so hard throughout high school and leave home only to end up right back there. She was determined to succeed. To do better than her miserable parents who they themselves never completed college. Her mother worked the farm and her father owned the local corner store. They didn’t make a ton of money but it was enough to survive off of the necessities. Townsford, Connecticut was a town of about one thousand. It was more a rural farming community with one stoplight in the entire county. Everyone knew everyone and it was not a good place to stand out. That’s why she had always hated her vibrant red hair. She got it from her father. Emma had always considered herself kind of a shy girl. Never straying far away from what she knew but there was a desire that burned inside her to escape the deadbeat town which is exactly what she did. The girl was doing more than her parents ever did but it wasn’t enough. That’s why a week later she met Marina Tischner. The woman was kind and almost had a motherly feel to her. She had straight blonde hair and a heart shaped face. She was dressed casually in a blue turtleneck, dark jeans and boots. The room was small but comfortable. The walls were painted a mustard yellow and there was one small window which was the only light in the room. In front of her was a coffee table and a chair on the other side. An icy glass of water and a bowl of mints were situated in front of her. She was surprisingly easy to talk to, something Emma had sworn she would never do. Everything came pouring out of her mouth at rapid speed: Hannah and Jack. Her parents. Hopes and dreams. The only sound she heard was the sound of the pencil tip against the paper as Dr. Tischner took down notes. “Are you happy with your life right now?” “Honestly?” her voice shook. “No. Sometimes I wish I could go far away and be a different person, live a second life. Don’t get me wrong, I want to try. I don’t want to give up but I’m just so tired of everything.” “It’s normal to feel that way. Everyone does at some point.” She supposed the woman was right but Emma just felt so alone. There was no one to save her. “Why don’t you have a sip of the water.” Dr. Tischner nodded toward the glass. “We’ve been talking for a while.” ooOoo Emma’s eyes blinked open but quickly shut, the bright light caught her by surprise. She tried again, this time more slowly and hesitant. Something wasn’t right. A headache thundered at the front of her head and vision blurred around the edges. She felt dead, unable to feel her body, everything was numb. “Mmmhph!” she tried to talk but it came out in a grumbled mess. There was something in her mouth that she couldn’t spit out. The girl was so tired. Her eyes began to flutter as different colors floated in front of her. “No, no Emmy.” a woman stood above her. “Nap time is over, you can go night-night later.” Nap time? Night-night? What the hell was going on? “You’re a silly girl. Just suck on your paci, there’s no need for tears.” Was she crying? The woman tapped the object lodged in her mouth. Without really thinking about it, Emma did as she said. It felt like she had been hit by a truck. Nothing made any sense. “Nurse Janie just has to change your diapee and then you can have some nummies.” Her blue eyes narrowed and brows furrowed together. Something really wasn’t right. Her heart raced against her chest and a high whine escaped her throat. The woman picked her up with ease and automatically her legs wrapped around her waist and head rested on her shoulder. The young girl suddenly stiffened, hearing a crinkle as the woman… patted her butt? “Don’t worry sweetie.” she cooed. “You’re just a little wet but it’s nothing I can’t take care of.” There was a sinking feeling in her stomach as her mind caught up with the lady’s words and realized what the feeling was between her legs. She was wearing a fucking diaper. “Nnn-nuhnuh!” she tried to speak but could only string together a few words. Her body shook and the woman just patted her back. Looking around the room it was empty, save for a bunch of oversized… cages? No. Cribs.There was a rocking chair positioned in each corner of the room and walls were painted a light pink. A rainbow, clouds, and a smiling sun were painted on the wall. It reminded her of her childhood doctor’s office. Except she wasn’t a child. She was nineteen years old. “Keep sucking your paci,” her voice remained calm. “We’re just going to get your little tush changed.” Breath. One, two, three, four… she began to count in her mind. Five, six, seven, eight… don’t think about what she’s doing. Don’t think about how she just strapped you to a fucking changing table that’s way to big for an actual baby. Tears burned in her eyes and a few trickled down her cheeks. She flinched at the touch of the wet wipe against her… her private area. No one but her had ever touched down there before. Her heart pounded in her ears and began to struggle against the straps that restrained her ankles and wrists. She was completely nakad. Oh dear god. Emma screamed, terrified of what was going to happen. The woman swatted her thigh and made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Is little Emmy having bad thoughts?” “Effmfa!” her voice grumbled as she tried to correct the woman. Her name was Emma. Emmy was a baby name. “Oh Emmy, your head is just filled with bad big girl thoughts.” she ignored her protest. “I’m just getting you changed into your pullup and pretty dress. Your diapees are just for night time.” That wasn’t what she was upset about, at least not in that sense. Emma had to communicate with her that there had been some sort of mistake. She wasn’t meant to be here. The young girl kicked her legs as hard as she could, straining against the restraints. The woman clicked her tongue and blue eyes narrowed. “You’ve been such a good girl the past few days. Perhaps you're just hungry, it is time for your nummies after all.” Emma almost laughed in disbelief. Nummies? How old did she think she was? Five? And what did she mean by the past few days? Emma could only remember the beginning of the meeting with Dr. Tischner. The woman bent down, opening a drawer and pulled out a thick pullup. Her cheeks pinkened as Emma wailed from behind the rubber object, unable to escape. “Oh, you’ll get nummies soon. I know how much you like nursie’s milk. Relax and suck on your paci.” But she couldn’t relax because a sudden storm raged at the front of her mind- a lightning strike, a clap of thunder. Her eyes blinked rapidly, persisting through the pain, trying to remember. But her mind was blank. How had she ended up here? ooOoo A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and read, I really appreciate it! I’ve already started writing the second chapter and it should be uploaded soon!

One I swear if he’s out at the gym again for one of his ‘impromptu workout sessions’ I’ll bite his tail off. These musings came from the mind of a black and golden tan German Shepherd fur as he shivered, cold despite his thick fur and winter jacket at the doorstep of his friend’s house. The two had only been friends for a few months, but a lot had transpired between them during that time. Being a police officer, Rick was expected to keep his body in a state of fit physique and agility to operate at peak performance. Thus, he had found himself acquiring a gym membership after a few months at his new job when he had noticed a suspicious increase in mass around his midsection. Not wanting his fate to end like any other stereotypical donut munching cop, he had started to frequent his local gym several times a week, usually after his shift ended. At that establishment he found himself seeing a certain, rather athletic looking arcanine, who always seemed to be in the most chipper, friendly of moods whenever he saw him. After a few days of a few moments of eye contact and nervous smiling, he had come over to him and introduced himself as, ”Anthony, but you can call me Tony!” His confidence and self-assured grin had given him a friendly glow that Richard found he liked very much, and he extended his paw to shake and replied with his name. The following weeks turned into a blur as the two canines hit it off better than either of them had expected. Beyond exchanging their own little fitness tips and tricks their sense of humor was shared as well, and they found great excitement and amusement in exchanging their own ideas and perspectives on the world, which the two found that although they differed on many subjects they both found hearing what the other had to say about a particular argument quite interesting and engaging. They had gone out a few times too, to a few lesser-known bars that the arcanine had said he preferred to go too since he usually wasn’t recognized there. At this strange comment, Richard had raised his eyebrows, thinking that his friend was making a joke. Tony had smiled a little, the first time in fact that Richard had ever seen him look sheepish, as he explained that he was a locally well-known baseball player, and had found himself getting bothered quite a bit at some of the other establishments he had frequented previously. Richard had done a google search, at Tony’s suggestion more to humor him than anything, but found to his surprise a Wikipedia page confirming his newly made friend’s claims at athletic success. Tony had then told him something that warmed Rich’s heart. He had first begun to talk to the shepherd because he felt was searching for a friend who wouldn’t want to be close to him just for his fame, but someone who liked him as a person. This warmed the cop’s heart, and he had wrapped his arm around the hulky arcanine’s shoulder and smiled at him conspiratorially, saying that he was more than happy to be such a person for him. Naturally, after such a warm entrance into friendship, they had gotten plastered that night and ended up somehow both falling on top of each other back at Tony’s residence. Things had progressed down a path that the two had not fully acknowledged, even to themselves, but yet both somehow knew that would traverse if things continued. Tony had leaned forward into a passionate kiss, pushing himself against the shepherd in an act of shameless passion to which the drunken shepherd could only respond in kind. Their passions lead to the stripping of clothes and before Richard knew it the arcanine had begun to take control of him and his body in the most loving fashion he had experienced to date. Being straddled by the muscled beast he had whined and howled in pain and ecstasy, the arcanine leaning down to his ears and whispered sweet nothings into it, even going as far as gently biting the nape of his neck and embracing him around the chest as he thrust himself into him. The lovemaking had lasted a decent while, Richard remembered how he had marveled as just how well Tony had paced himself, most likely due to his athletic training and discipline. By the time Tony finished, at last, the shepherd found himself able to do little but pant and gasp for air in an orgasmic trance, having climaxed himself several minutes ago while Tony had still been going strong. The arcanine had grasped him under the chin and brought him up to his face. They kissed more, the arcanine rubbing his back and humming soothingly to the receptive canine, thanking him for a wonderful time. Richard could only smile goofily back, completely and utterly entranced by the wonderful being before him who he had so perfectly made love to. Richard stamped his feet, trying to keep warm even as his cheeks flushed with red standing in the cold at Tony’s doorstep, remembering how they had then fallen asleep spooning, Tony being the big spoon naturally, and how the shepherd had woken up to Tony cooking him breakfast, wrapped up in a snuggly blanket on his couch. They had spent the morning chatting about the previous night, now almost completely unabashedly speaking about their own preferences and even delving into fetishes. They had been surprised just how well they had meshed together in lovemaking last night, Tony causing Richard to blush when he told him how he wasn’t surprised at all how to find that the shepherd was so subordinate. “I mean come on, anybody looking at you even from a mile away could see that you totally scream bottom!” Richard had almost coughed his coffee out of his maw at this comment, causing Tony to only laugh louder between fork-fulls of syrupy pancake. The canine had blushed in response to the arcanine but smiled good-naturedly. Although normally his tough, police officer persona was the one he operated on most of the time, he found that he felt comfortable letting his guard down around the arcanine, even to the point of expressing his submissiveness to him. After his normally uncharacteristic blush, the arcanine had gently inquired about the shepherd’s preferences, whether he had considered himself a sub for long. The two spent the rest of the morning discussing their own sexual experiences, preferences, and even fantasies. Throughout their dialogue the arcanine seemed to work magic onto Richard, gently but firmly inquiring as to what he would enjoy and wouldn’t, as well as what thinks he would enjoy not enjoying. The shepherd’s heart rate rose up multiple times during their exchanges, excitement filling his body that not even his job offered him during moments of pursuing justice and chasing after criminals. “Wait here, Richie, I think I have something that you might enjoy.” The arcanine winked before rising to his full height and softly strolling out of the room, a devilish expression on his muzzle. Richard could only lean forward off of the couch and look after him, wondering what his attractive friend was wanting to retrieve. “Close your eyes, Richard.” The canine obeyed and heard Tony shuffle towards him before stopping in front of him. “You can open them now.” Richard opened his eyes and gazed up at Tony before looking down to see that the arcanine was holding something in front of the shepherd’s nose. Richard took a sharp breath and quickly realized what the object that lay in the arcanine’s outstretched paw was. A small, white chastity cage was being presented to him, complete with a steel, heart-shaped lock adorning the bottom. The German Shepherd’s heart pounded in his chest, and he looked up wide-eyed into Tony’s own well-knowing eyes, understanding what he was being offered. “What do you think buckeroo, wanna have some fun? I think I could go for domming a cutie like you. After all, I think after last night you’ve proven that you might be needing this. You made a mess all over my couch after all!” Richard’s cheeks reddened at the playful admonishment, but his eyes looked back down onto the cage in front of him. He opened his lips as if to speak, but found it difficult to articulate what he felt. Picking up on his apparate speechlessness, Tony squatted in front of him and looked up into the blushing shepherd’s eyes, his voice softening now but retaining the same firm assuredness that proliferated his entire being. “How about I help you put it on, would that help, pup?” The shepherd could only nod shakily in response, his breaths still coming in heavy and deep as his entire being seemed to grow warm and vibrate in excision and stimulation. The arcanine gently pushed on the shepherd’s shoulders and repositioned him onto his back. Scooching over onto the couch he unbuckled the shepherd’s jeans and slid them down, following with his underwear. Richard’s member had begun to grow slowly after he had been approached by the arcanine’s offer but had not yet reached full erection. Tsk-tsking at the apparent excitement the canine was displaying, Tony worked efficiently and quickly at sliding the tube over the shepherd's not yet fully excited head and looping the support ring underneath his testicles. Richard felt a firm pressure on his jewels, which increased to a more distinct pressing feeling as he heard a soft click, and then a louder one as the cage was locked firmly into place. His member now strained against his confines, but to no relief as the plastic prison kept his erotic excitement firmly and securely in check. Tony grinned, and almost cooed as he said. “Looks like our little friend here is having a hard time containing himself! It’s a good thing I was around to make sure that he doesn’t get himself into trouble now, no?” Tony’s words washed over him like a stimulating wave of air, causing a shiver to run through him as both tone and context of what the arcanine said turned him on immensely. The amateur baseball player had a charm and confidence that the shepherd could find almost irresistible. He couldn’t help but blushing slightly, as he gazed into the arcanine’s eyes, feelings of attraction and yearning coursing through his veins as he strained against the cage around his member. Tony offered a paw to him and helped Richard up to his feet before helping him redress, surprising him by delivering an impassioned and deliberate kiss on the shepherd’s cheek, causing him to his great embarrassment to stammer a little bit in response. Tony’s eyes glistened as he let out a loud laugh, grinning broadly and looking directly into Richard’s eyes and winking confidently. “Oh Rick, this is going to be more fun than I could have possibly imagined, I figured you were a total sub but to this extent? I think this is going to be a luxurious time.”

Planets and Pacifiers By Horatio Husky Ion engines engines efficiency at 87% Cooling system: normal Internal atmospheric composition: normal Navigation system: active Radiation shield: active Cargo Hold temperature: 282.9 degrees kelvin Cockpit temperature: 293.9 degrees kelvin Bridge temperature: 293.4 degrees kelvin Exterior temperature 2.7 degrees kelvin Complete system diagnosis: nominal Current Coordinates: 14.22524 tesseracts, 1532.24642 leths, 35.99946 endons Nebula Location Adjacency: Iago’s nebula “Yeah yeah yeah, stuff it.” A light orange fox lounged in a pilot’s seat, designed to be sat in in an upright, rigid position in order to maximize alertness in its user. Apollo did not seem to be so keen on respecting the design of the chair, for his posture gave off every impression except one of attention. He rolled his eyes and twirled a finger in his thick, yellow-dyed headfur. Did the machine really have to recite the information out loud every hour he thought to himself, as he yawned and stretched his arms and legs lethargically. A little shorter and light furred than most orange foxes his age, the 20 year old pilot was bored of his freight mission. “Work in the space fleet they said. It’ll be an adventure they said. You’ll rise through the ranks quickly they said.” he spoke aloud in a mocking tone, scrunching his face up and bringing his lip back, wagging his head in mock chipperness. The fox once again rolled his eyes, and glanced up at the various monitors in front of him, his well trained eyes picking out the pertinent pieces of information before him amongst the myriad of pointless stats and figures. The fox was driving a standard issue military freighter, loaded with food rations, armor supplies, energy cells, hygiene products, and other various necessities required by the military. A crucial job to keep the military sane, but still a very boring one. Apollo wished he wasn’t still such a low ranking pilot, and getting assigned a two month mission of just going from system to system had been taking a serious toll on his mind. He had grown tired of video games, movies, and even the virtual reality simulator, which unfortunately for him, had only demo access on the ship model he’d been stuck with. Cheap bastards. A notification appeared on one of the 9 monitors displayed on the glass in front of him, behind the glass a dual star system was fast approaching, the twin suns each radiating their light, as if to welcome the pilot to their system. The ship itself was shaped like the tip of an arrow, with a larger cylindrical portion hitched to its back, containing the various supplies. The dragon sperm was the nickname Apollo had unaffectionately dubbed his ship which he was more and more beginning to see as a prison of little stimulation. He waved a paw lazily, the dashboard registered his lackadaisical movement and opened the notification. A green x-ray image of what looked to be an abandoned station appeared in front of him, along with coordinates. His eyes glanced to them, and then excitedly sat up in his seat, boredom and self-pity forgotten. “It’s in the upcoming system, along the way!” he said aloud, ecstatic at finding such a relic. Running a quick diagnosis he was told that the station’s power system was in sleep mode as well as the on board AI, for how long it had been deactivated wasn’t specified, but the exterior looked as if it had taken a few decades of being beaten by the radiation pouring out by the sister stars only around 19 million kilometers away. Its primary objective for construction was also stated as infant care, which took him aback for a second. Recovering quickly, Apollo stuck his tongue out to the side of his maw, and excitedly concentrated at overriding the ship’s commands to continue on its passage, just for a quick stop to explore this obviously very important case of spatial exploration. He scratched at his white chest fur with a paw absentmindedly as he flipped a few switches, and pressing a button a semi-circle attached to a bar appeared, grasping the steering wheel he began to gently guide his ship towards the abandoned space station. “Haha!” he grinned to himself,”Finally I can actually use this piece of ship!” Grinning at his stupid pun, he approached the station. As he grew closer he noticed that it was larger than he expected, with a wide array of solar panels that seemed mostly intact, and surprisingly large ship loading and unloading docks. It’s gravitational anchor was a small, red looking planet which Apollo knew from his space class was probably due to oxidation of iron with the soil. Ignoring the planet he synced up his speed to the velocity of the station and chose a smaller landing area that seemed best sheltered from the radiation pouring from the center of the solar system. “Easy does it, come on you’ve done this dozens of times, YES!” exclaimed Apollo, as with a resounding noise the ship docked with the docking area, and the all too familiar hiss of an airlock engaged, connecting with the station. The scrawny fox giddily hopped out of his pilot’s seat and scampered his tail swishing excitedly over to his space suit. Almost shaking with glee, he quickly stepped into his space boots and allowed the system to place the rest of the suit on him. It couldn’t do it quick enough, however after a minute his helmet had set in place, and, clicking his heels together, the static adhesive pads activated on his boots and he stepped into the airlock. More hissing followed and the sounds of heavy metals moving was heard, and with a shudder, the airlock opened to reveal a more colorful spectacle than he had expected. A green light appearing on his helmet as he entered, he clicked a latch on the side of his space suit neck while also pressing a button on a wrist terminal on his left arm. With a sharp hiss, the helmet came off, and Apollo breathed in deeply. A strange yet oddly nostalgic smell entered his sensitive nostrils, and he frowned sniffing further, trying to identify the smell. “Is that… talcum powder?” he mused to himself, as he took a step further into the station. Along the walls were various infantile patterns of little cubs, kittens, puppies, and other children, some of them wearing little space suits and diapers, while others slept on crescent moons or floated through space, attached by a lifeline on a spacewalk exploring the galaxy. Cute, thought Apollo to himself, as he tapped his shoulder to activate a flashlight on it and after moving his eyes up and down and side to side, its beam synchronized with his own focused vision. He continued to walk through the facility, which was only lit by some of the twin star’s lights coming through windows that appeared every once in a while spanning from floor to ceiling, the red gravity anchor planet also reflecting the starlight into the station, giving it a soft, almost pinkish atmospheric light. On his way he passed a particularly sophisticated looking synthetic arm, hanging from the ceiling presumably via magnetism, for there seemed no obvious mechanic for it to be able to move from its spot as it hung dejectedly from the ceiling. “Aww man, is there going to be any loot in here? I really want to be able to show off to the others that I had an actual adventure!” Apollo complained, as he rounded into a corridor with several entrances. Picking the closest one to his left, the door opened automatically when he stepped in front of it to his great surprise, and revealed to him what looked like a room to change an infant’s diapers. A changing table with a menagerie of baby products stood as the centerpiece in the room, along with more depressed looking yet highly futuristic mechanical arms hanging above it, their skin a shiny white color and their exposed wire and machinery parts a glistening black. He noticed that the floor he’d been walking on was a rather soft looking blue carpet, and looking back the way he came he also observed that everything seemed to be designed with comfort in mind, for the safety of the children being taken care of here presumably. Clicking his wrist terminal, he tapped around until he found a locator, and followed the instructions on his monitor through a series of doors and corridors. Seeing much more of the cutesy tyke space exploration mosaic, he finally arrived at a hallway where he saw what looked like a terminal at the end. Striding over to it, he tapped experimentally on the large black screen. To his delight the screen illuminated, and he tapped through various windows until he arrived at an inventory and functionality list. His trained mind perusing quickly behind the boring details, he arrived at the description of the station’s purpose. “The primary objective of this institution is the cultivation and upbringing of infants through the first few stages of development; giving them an opportunity to develop stronger immune systems through systematic control of inoculation as well as stimulated development via exposure to an environment such as this space station, where the air, food, and lifestyle are all designed with the healthy and happy development of the child in mind. After the period of post-birth incubation is over, the children are then shipped out using a state of the art long-term space travel system to arrive at their final destination with highly stimulated beginnings and a matured immune system. As of this past century, the entire system has undergone a success in complete automation.” “Huh, a retro-nursery. Sure wish my parents stuck me in one of these before I turned 2, maybe then I could have become a cyborg engineer,” the fox muttered to himself sarcastically. He tabbed through more information screens, which just displayed various shipment records of supplies as well as a few analytics on the function of the energy system. Apollo was a little confused why the station was in a state of hibernation, for as he clicked through he realized that all of the systems in the place were running smoothly with no need for any major repairs. He frowned, and tried accessing an administrative tab to see if he could see if the station had been turned off intentionally. Something squeezed his shoulder and Apollo yelped loudly, ”BWAH!” His helmet which he’d been toting with him under his arm fell from his grasp, and landed softly on the carpet. Whirling around he found that one of the mechanical arms was firmly grasping his shoulder, tapping its index finger expectantly. He brushed away at it, but before he could try and get away from it it released him and pointed down the hallway to the right of the terminal, as if saying,”Come on bub, this way.” The fox blinked, then leaned down to pick up his fallen helmet, cocking his head to the side curiously,”I thought this place was in the hibernation mode.” As if to directly prove him wrong, the hall he was on became illuminated with cheery yellow lights, and he could hear whirring and clanging, as well as what sounded like a generator firing up somewhere in the institution. He looked around, bewildered but a little excited to see the station coming alive again. His excitement turned to a startled feeling however as the arm, seemingly rather impatient, grabbed his wrist and began tugging him down the hall at which it had pointed. Apollo protested, and tried yanking his way out of the arm’s grasp, but found himself comfortably yet firmly trapped in its vice, and all he could do was keep up with wherever it was leading him. His heart rate increased and he tried getting to his wrist terminal, but found that the jostling rate of the arm’s tugging didn’t allow him to punch in the code for a distress signal back to his ship. “Let go you piece of scrap! I’m the captain of a ship! Even though it’s a one man ship… Still a ship!” The arm utterly ignored his indignance as they rounded around a bend and the fox found himself back at the familiar hall with multiple entrances on the left and right. He was half lead half dragged into an entrance to the left, where he found himself faced with five more arms all expectantly holding various physician’s items and forms of measurement. Apollo was seriously starting to panic as the arm that lead him in released him only to immediately click a button on a panel next to the entrance and shut the door behind him. Two more arms descended from the ceiling and grabbed him by the upper arms, he thrashed and kicked, dropping his helmet once again and flailed, trying to get away from the metal captors. The arms began to assail their poor victim with the various instruments, looking inside his ears, forcing his jaw open to inspect his teeth with the instruments, grabbing at various muscles and one arm even had the gaul to gently squeeze his unspeakables. He yelped and twitched a little bit when that happened, yipping at an arm as it passed his head, furious with being manhandled without any consent. The arm that he had snapped at stopped moving, and quickly reversed direction back upwards into a surprisingly high ceiling. Noting that it seemed to reach for something high above him, it quickly descended back towards him and before he could react popped some sort of rubber bulb in his mouth. He tried spitting it out, but found that another arm was fastening something behind the back of his head which pulled on his cheeks, and with a muffled gasp he realized he was being gagged. Not just any gag though, as he moved the alien structure around in his mouth and attempted to suck on it, he realized the arm had stuck a pacifier in his mouth. “Em nawt a ba-MMM!” the bulb in the pacifier suddenly inflated in his mouth substantially, and Apollo found to his dismay that he was not longer able to open his mouth enough to even attempt to say words. He huffed into his pacifier, but before he could further reflect on his situation a panel appeared in the wall in front of him approximately a yard wide and tall, and looking closer he saw that a conveyor belt appeared to be moving inside of the panel opening. Jostling him the arms pushed him towards the conveyor belt and then lifted him onto it, he thrashed and flailed but to no avail, as he was deposited on the conveyor belt the panel shut behind him, and the only illumination was the flashlight on his space suit, which still followed wherever he gazed. The company which had designed the clever device warned strongly to never have it synced with in total darkness, for only seeing light in one’s central vision but never in their peripheral vision could cause bad paranoia and even hallucinations. Given the situation the fox seemed to have landed himself into, his paranoia was already sky high. He got himself up to his knees on the moving belt, only to have something thump him on the back back onto his stomach. He growled into his pacifier gag with frustration, and then began to panic as he felt something unzipping his space suit and grabbing the wrist with his personal terminal on it. The flashlight switched off, and the poor vulpine was thrown into complete darkness as the suit registered it was being taken off. Helpless and blind, the fox soon was being completely stripped of all clothing he wore. He shivered, terrified as his naked body continued to progress on the belt. He felt more things touching him, the machine examining every nook and cranny of his body, leaving him feeling completely helpless. Suddenly another panel opened, and he found himself being thrust unceremoniously into a pool of bubbly water. He spluttered, his thick yellow hair in his face. He tried to clear his eyes of hair but once again found his arms restrained and felt several brushes assault various parts of his body. Surprisingly pleasant, he was able to see past a break in his sopping wet hair that he was being scrubbed head to toe by more mechanical arms in what he guessed was a large bath. Unable to do much but allow himself to be cleaned, Apollo cursed his stupidity at not being more careful. “Still,” he thought,”once the system does whatever this integration protocol is or whatever, I’m sure when it’s satisfied I’ll be able to get back to my ship.” Confident in this assumption, he reluctantly allowed the arms to finish cleaning him, lifting him out of the tub and blasting him with air from vents below where they had deposited him. As the air shut off, his hair fluffed out. He groaned, he must really looked like a little kid with all his fur all over the place. He reached back to try and unfasten his pacifier gag, but wasn’t quick enough for once again an arm grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out of the room, down the soft carpet, which the still naked Apollo now appreciated, and into the room he had first seen. Before him stood a changing table. “That is a big no from me,” thought Apollo, as to his dismay he was lifted up onto the table and had his wrists and ankles strapped to the corners. The poor fox whimpered, unhappy that he seemingly had lost all freedom and trust to do anything for himself. He winced and tried moving away from an arm that began to spread a white cream into his fur around his groin, on his bottom, and, tensing, around his sensitive bits. Another arm gently slid a hand under his lower back, and lifted him upwards. The fox looked down at himself, and saw that one arm was rising up clutching a thick, dark blue diaper with constellation patterns adorning it. The solar sailor squirmed and moaned in objection as the diaper was unfolded and slid gently under his quivering bottom. As he settled down on it he was surprised at the incredibly softness of the material against him. Another mechanical arm began applying generous amounts of baby powder in his diaper area, causing him to sneeze and shiver. Putting away the various infantile cosmetical supplies, the arms folded the front of the diaper over Apollo’s front, and snugly taped it in place, three tapes on each side. Apollo flexed his thighs and his buttcheeks, realizing that the soft padding was firmly in place. The corner restraints released, but before he could attempt to escape where previously the restraints held his wrists and ankles arms grasped him, lifting him out off of the changing table and unceremoniously carrying him out of the room, much to his displeasure. Trying to thrash and twist out of their grasp, the fox suckled nervously on his pacifier gag as he was carried into yet another room, inside of which were various mirrors and cabinets from the floor high up into the tall ceiling. The arms carried him to the center of the room, where he was able to see his pathetic state in one of the mirrors. His cheeks reddened, the fox was already a little bit on the small size, but the pacifier and the diaper did little to make him look like the adult he was. The poor pilot had gone from commanding his own ship to looking like he able to do little else than use his own diapers and suckle his pacifier. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed some more arms that had appeared from above shuffling through the cabinets. The four arms that had carried him in still firmly holding him in the air, and the arms that had been searching through cabinets soon descended on him with various items. He felt a pressure on his ankle, and looked down to see a slim black bracelet placed above his footpaw. A small red light appeared on it, which turned to green and quickly vanished. His tail curled around his thigh, right under his diaper. “I’ve just been tagged! Am I going to be imprisoned here? Why would they need to track me?!” he thought apprehensively. Something went over his ears and onto his head, then fastened underneath his chin. He looked up into the mirror to see what was being put on him but was blinded by yet another thing being pulled over his head. The arms meandered their way into releasing and grasping his limbs once again as he was forced into a piece of clothing. His head emerging, he saw in the mirror that he was garbed in a thick, and rather heavy infant gown with a bonnet fastened over his hair. Feeling incredibly humiliated and infantile, his indignance was further increased as the arms thrust his hands into blue rounded mittens, and locked them in place with a touch of a finger on the wrist cloth, a lock symbol glowing briefly, telling Apollo he was not getting out of them any time soon. “Blasted station! How on earth is such a sophisticated looking system mistake an adult for a newborn infant?!” he once again thought to himself in frustration and panic. He moaned desperately into his pacifier, realizing that he may not be able to get of his situation as soon as the machine was done babying him. He’d have to wait until the machine left him alone with some time and he could figure out somehow how to get his gag and mittens off. Seeing how his clothes and wrist communicator had been confiscated by the machine, he’d have to do some exploring through the facility to voice activate it. In an all too familiar motion the arms grabbed his limbs and raised him up once more, parading him out of the room and down the hallway. They traveled for a longer period than previously, and Apollo was able to marvel at the true size and infantile design the station sported. It really made him feel as if he were inside a giant nursery, designed to make the environment as soothing and babyish as possible with the patterns on the wall, soft curves of the corners, and the ever persistent smell of baby powder lingering in the air. Or maybe that was just him,”Ugh…” thought the fox to himself,”Where on earth are these things taking me?” After a minute more of being carried through the various passageways they arrived at a large arch, above which was written ”Incubation Pods.” Apollo’s pacifier would have dropped from his agape mouth had it not been snuggly strapped in. The room they entered was gigantic, several hundred meters from wall to wall, ceiling to ceiling, with wide pathways in the center allowing access to both mechanical arms and any bipeds or quadrupeds wanting to admire the space and walk through it. Between tall, narrow windows revealing the gorgeous outer space outside were several spacious pods, around three meters long and two meters wide. Apollo’s question of what was inside of the pods lining the walls was soon answered as the arms magnetic rail connection clipped onto a vertical rail line and he began to ascend upwards. Although a pilot, Apollo still was rather uncomfortable with large heights and with no titanium and carbon fiber vessel to hold him securely in place he tensed with apprehension as the arms carried him upwards. Maneuvering towards a pod in the center of the room, a few pods away from the nearest vertical window the fox saw that the interior was lined with soft, blue padding, a thick fleece blanket covered the middle, and several large fluffy pillows and a few choice large stuffed animals were contained within the pods. The upper half was made of a clear substance, and one of the pods lifted this translucent lid slightly with as hiss as the arms approached with their prey: the poor, rather babyishly garbed fox pilot. Presuming that he’d be put in one of the pods Apollo once again resumed his struggles, now in bigger earnest than before. He kicked and thrashed, yelling into his gag in anger as he exerted himself. His elbow connected with something hard, and he felt a rather nasty pain coming from his arm but realized with delight he must have succeeded in causing some damage. He glanced down, just in time to see one of the arms shattering into a million pieces on the walkway below. Looking up, he saw the end of what remained of the arm, sparking with electricity. Using his now freed arm he reached to attack the others that held him, but almost wet his newly acquired padding instead. Two dozen arms were now surging towards him, they grabbed his arms, legs, torso, and head, with the firmness increasing more and more as he attempted to resist them. They deposited him into the pod, pulling back the heavy looking blanket several arms pulled out several straps and folds hidden within the seams of the internal bedding. A harness with straps thick enough to almost constitute as clothing were drawn across his torso and crotch, tightly fastening them by what looked like velcro the fox. He tried moving and pawing at the restraints with his mittens, but found that it held him tightly in place in the center of the pod. He threw his head back and harrumphed in frustration as the arms retreated from the pod, the glass covering sealing back into place leaving the pilot to his own thoughts. He squirmed, pathetically tring to his use mittened paws to grasp at his secured torso, his pacifier, and the bonnet on his head tied under his chin. “This is humiliating,” he thought to himself,”I’ll never be able to live this down if anybody finds out, but how the hell am I supposed to escape if every time I do anything I get swarmed by those wretched arms!” He gasped slightly, and suckled on his pacifier a few times before consciously stopping himself when he realized what he was doing. “That’s it! I just have to do exactly what the system wants me to do and behave like a baby, then pull a fast one at the last minute!” Had he not been limited in his mobility, Apollo would have patted himself on the back for such an ingenious idea. Before he could further congratulate himself on being the smartest space pilot in the entire galaxy he jumped with surprise as a panel in the side of the bedding of the pod appeared out of nowhere, and more arms appeared. Gods above he was getting really sick of him he thought, as he wearily watched them approach him. Unstrapping the pacifier gag behind his head, the fox had hardly an opportunity to say anything until another rubber stopper was deposited firmly in place. He frowned, biting down on it. A squirt of sweet liquid came into contact with his tongue, and he looking down he saw a large baby bottle had been placed into his maw, patterns of stars, comets, and planets adorning it. The liquid inside of the container was a slight pink color, and as the fox took an experimental suckle on the thing, realized it was flavored strawberry. Apollo loved strawberries, and against his better judgement listened to the anguished growl that arose from his stomach as he realized he had not eaten in quite a while. Mentally shrugging, he allowed himself to be fed from the bottle, the contents tasted like a creamy strawberry milkshake, one of his favorite treats as a young kit back on his home planet. His eyelids drooped, and the interval between each suckle on his baba lengthened. A soothing female voice suddenly began to filter into the little crib pod, whispering little nothings into his ear, cooing and admiring on how incredibly cute and sweet he was. Apollo’s ear twitched and and a drol smile spread across his face, feeling surprisingly content albeit the situation. He wondered why he’d been so worked up just a few minutes ago. Why fuss? He was snuggly secured in his little crib, and his belly was full of delicious strawberry flavored milkshake! He wriggled comfortably, feeling almost fuzzy with coziness. He hardly noticed as the arms withdrew the bottle from his milk stained lips to be once again replaced with the pacifier gag, pulled the heavy blanket onto him, moved a pillow under his head, and placed a large, red dragon plushie in his arms, which he sleepily hugged tightly to himself with both arms. The little pilot’s consciousness dripped, then ebbed, and then slowly sank into a deep sleep, his breath slowing and his mind set at an ease he hadn’t experienced since he had been a little kit oh so many years ago. Apollo would barely remember this occurring later, but after what must have been only a few hours he woke up, but still felt incredibly sleepy from his deep sleep. He squirmed uncomfortably, and found that his surroundings were dark. His mind still in the clouds of hypnos, he tried to get up to empty his bladder. For some reason he wasn’t able to, and his still incredibly sleepy mind didn’t want to put forth more effort than it had to. He settled back down, and as he drifted back to sleep he felt a warm dampness spreading near the front of his crotch. His previously very full bladder now relieved, Apollo snuggled his cheek against the dragon plushie he hugged tightly, his padding now a little bigger and more tightly pressed against him than it had been previously. Apollo let out a sigh, and went back to sleep. ~ ~ ~ His vision was blurry and the light too harsh for his dark-accustomed eyes. He raised a paw to shield them from the brightness, and as his eyes went back into focus he saw the locked mitten still fixed on his hand. The events that had recently happened to him came flooding back, and suddenly he was wide awake. Shifting around to check if he was still secured in the straps, he felt something damp in his diaper. A feeling of shock and slight dread filled him, as he moved around further. “Did I wet myself when I slept?!” his mind screamed, as he brought his thighs together. To his dismay the absorbent material inside his diaper squished and crinkled, confirming his suspicions. His stomach gurgled, and his anxiety intensified as he realized that he had not used the toilet in a very long time. A pressure began to form on his lower abdomen, building up and pressing on his furry behind. Groaning he covered his face with his mittened paws and unconsciously suckled on his pacifier, he clenched his cheeks together, refusing to give up this aspect of his adulthood. The battle was waged for several minutes, but Apollo saw how it would eventually end. He whimpered, the pain beginning to register a higher intensity as he tried not to mess himself. A tear welled up in his right eye, and with a defeated cry muffled from his pacifier the contents of his bowels thundered into the backseat of his padding. He leaned forward slightly, bringing his legs up only to be hindered by the heavy blanket still weighing down upon him. The warm messed ballooned into his diapers, spreading out slightly into the front of his diaper. His release had been complete, for along with the back he had also wet the front even more. Apollo, military space pilot, captain of the ‘dragon sperm,’ had helpless used his diapers like a baby. No readjustment or movement allowed him to get away from the mess in his pants, the crinkling was muffled by the blanket as he shifted, the restrictive straps further pressing the padding onto his body as the material had swelled with his multiple instances of wetting. He lay there for what felt like an hour, during which he once again wet his diapers. “I must have been drugged, why would my body be reacting like this just because I’m dressed in baby clothes?” He shook his head, cursing himself for being so stupid as the puzzle pieces fell into place. They must have given him quite the cocktail to have completely incapacitated him to the point of being unable to keep his pants clean. “Good morning piddlepants!” a voice rang through the pod, jumping Apollo out of his revery. He looked around confused, the voice behind the exclamation was the same as the AI announcer voice he had heard before his rather lengthy nap, and it surprised him to be hearing it addressing him so directly. “How’s our little baby boy today! Did we use our diapers last night? Good little babies use their diapers and let their mommies and daddies love them for it!” Blushing at the infantile talk, Apollo saw through the glass that several arms were approaching his pod, clutching various changing supplies they approached, reaching into it as with another hiss the upper dome opened. Moving the blanket off of the little pilot they worked at unstrapping him out of the bundle and unclothed him until only his used diaper was open to the air. The smell hit his nostrils and he whimpered, a feeling of complete helplessness coursing through his mind as the arms held his own above his head and untapped his diaper. Cool, soothing baby wipes began wiping his messed fur, and he was slightly relieved that the arms were doing a good job at cleaning his accident from his body. The diaper was wrapped up, and a cream and powder was once again generously applied to his diaper area, his boy parts and cheeks rubbed with the substance to ensure maximum coverage. Cringing at the infantility of it all, he was both glad and dismayed when another, even thicker, diaper was placed beneath his raised behind, and he was securely fastened back into thick padding, the tapes snuggly ensuring he was nice and comfy inside of his thick underpants. The arms did what they did best and grabbed and lifted him up, his heart falling somewhere into his thick padding as he was retrieved from inside of the pod and carried back down onto the walkways in the middle of the vast space. At the bottom he saw what looked like a carriage, and found himself being placed into a thick, cushy bag of sorts. His arms were wrapped around himself and his knees were brought up to his chest. The fox squirmed, not uncomfortable but confined in what the fox took to be an oversized bunting bag. The arms placed and secured him into the carriage, strapping the bunting bag in over his chest and legs. Apollo could only suckle on his pacifier still lodged in his mouth and squirm as he was lead out of the giant room and further into the station. Something about the structure of the station where he was traveling through rang a bell, and he realized that they must be heading towards the main docking station he had spotted earlier when looking for an appropriate entrance. One of the arms delicately pushed the carriage through the station, and after what seemed like the longest hallway in the entire facility they emerged into another open space, smaller than where the pods were kept but still impressively large. The docks overlooked the vastness of space and were separating the bubble of air that Apollo relied on by a pink force field which buzzed quietly. Apollo was lifted out of his carriage and saw out of the corner of the force field window about half of his ship, still docked where he had left it. His heart leaped up in excitement, as he began to struggle even more against his bonds, hoping the ship would register his distress through the force field and send a signal for help. Help arrived at that very instant, but not the kind that the pilot expected. Another military freighter arrived, decelerating as it approached his docked ship, and Apollo whooped into his pacifier as he saw it approach his ship. His vision was blocked as the arms placed him into a small ship he hadn’t noticed. Seeing his reflection in one of the arm’s shiny white limbs he saw a picture of a stork in a spacesuit flying a ship with the words, ”Baby on board” written across its side. A glass seal then slid in front of him as arms located inside of the little space vessel secured him into a small baby seat, like the carseats he had seen kits being placed in when going on car trips. His pacifier gag was removed, and a bottle was thrust in instead, he bit down on the nipple of the bottle clenching it shut, he refused to be drugged again, he refused to be babied, he wanted release! A sweet, tinkling melody began playing from the speakers in the ship, and the voice of the AI once again began to coo at him, reassuring him that everything was going to be alright, that he was just a little helpless infant, and that he was well loved and comfortable. The ship rumbled, and the engines fired. As the little vessel rocketed out of the station, he saw way off in the distance the new freighter that had arrived, towing his old ship behind it as the ion engines reached maximum velocity. Apollo looked up in dismay and frustration at realizing that the new ship had not noticed his plight, and saw that a mirror was placed above him. He gawked at his appearance. The pilot was small for his age true, but now he looked even fluffier, shorter, and younger than he had before. With a bit of effort, he pulled his arms out of the bunting bag and examined his mittened paws. It was true, they seemed stubbier and shorter for some reason. The arm holding the bottle in his mouth squeezed it, and the fox found he was no longer able to contain the liquid from entering his mouth. As the liquid poured into his mouth the effect was almost immediate, he relaxed, his arms laying down by his sides as the babyseat began to rock forwards and backwards slightly, a slight vibration starting at the front and back seat of his diaper as the seat worked away at his tense nerves. The stars outside of his window twinkled, and the voice informed him that he should be excited for the future. His new mommy and daddy were waiting for their new baby. Apollo felt a release happen, and uncontrollably wet the front of his diaper. The sweet, strawberry solution tasted rich and creamy as allowed himself to be fed. His mind felt once again at ease, why should he care about his freighter? He was only a little kit! Piloting ships was something big furs did, not little baby ones! His eyelids grew heavy, and the fox began to doze contentedly; the ship cruised through the ethers of space, gently rocking the little fox to a pleasant sleep. The last thing his eyes saw before they dropped were the twin suns, their bright light still warmly radiating into space, now as if to wish him a farewell. ~ ~ ~ Do you enjoy reading my content? Check out my other stories on my page or follow me on Twitter or FA! Twitter: https://twitter.com/horatiohusky FA: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/horatiohusky/