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  1. How much guilt have you felt over your time being into diapers? How have you dealt with it?
  2. I've had three incidents of soaking myself at night after drinking, each time wetting both the bed and my pants or completely soaking a cheap diaper that I meant to change. This time I even woke up a bit drunk and had to get up early to leave town and forgot to change the sheets and it was my worst wetting yet. My wife was extremely upset, completely understandable, and while she cleaned up some of it is still demanding I see someone. I'm scared to go mostly because I feel it is hard to explain the occasional bedwetting, which only recently started, without explaining that I also wear diapers for pleasure as well. I have to admit as well that my wife has been kind enough to forgive me a bit, at least so far as long as I promise to never wet the bed again. I have to put a bed pad underneath my side of the bed now and promise not to wear think diapers to bed anymore, especially if I drink at all. Still trying to process the fact I am a bedwetter again, had some problems when I was young and a bit in my teens and that I need to talk to a professional about it without it sounding weird or too awkward. My wearing of diapers actually came out of comfort as I often have anxiety about wetting myself if I don't know there is bathroom I can use nearby, long trips on buses with no bathrooms, seeing theatre shows that are long, concerts where I can 't get out easily. It's hard to admit at 44 that I need them and probably will more and more as I get older.
  3. out there.....easy going and gay 66 senior who is very comfy with being a DL and happily wears and uses......looking for same type of chap or even younger who is comfy with being with an older gay DL. Diapered friendship would be nice and if anything develops from there, well, you just never know.....
  4. Hello everyone......by way of introduction I am a rather content and young feeling senior of 66 who is very comfortable with his diaper happiness. I don't need to wear but I so do love to wear diapers/pullups. And I am not ashamed to admit that I use them as they were meant to be used. Hopefully I will be able to make some new friends here. Have an awesome day out there
  5. So the other day I tried the new Rainbow Pride diapers from The Dotty Diaper Company, and oh my days are they adorable! As a gay girl, I love representing the community, and 5% of sales all go to LGBT causes. As for the diapers themselves, they were a lot thinner than I expected. I've become accustomed to Tykables and LittleForBig recently and the Pride diaper definitely didn't compare in terms of thickness. They were also really quiet - very little crinkling. At first that was sort of a disappointment, but it dawned on me that they would make great out-out-the-house diapers. I am definitely wearing one next time I go to the movies. The tapes were really impressive - LittleForBig's tapes are a little too sticky, so it was nice surprise. But most importantly, they are so AMAZINGLY comfortable! Very soft plastic with a medium-rise. Perfect for everyday wear, IMO. They run really small, so be sure to read the sizing info before ordering. And the shipping is killer. But it was for a good cause and they really are a one-of-a-kind design. They probably won't be a main diaper for me, but I'm always going to keep these on hand when I need to look cute! I really encourage everyone to give them a shot. So Pudding and I wrote a short story about these diapers! Because we were bored and because we could. We hope you enjoy! And anytime anyone makes a smart-ass comment about "the gay agenda" please ask if this story is what they're talking about. Full PDF and ePub versions are on our Patreon, so please consider supporting us! ~*~*~*~*~ The Gay Agenda by Sophie & Pudding "What's that supposed to be?" Charlotte was holding up a plastic rectangle, decorated in ponies and rainbows. It was the third night in a row I was stuck at her house, until my parents got back from vacation. I was eighteen - there was absolutely no reason I couldn't stay on my own - but they were assholes who cared more about the safety of their prized paintings than the comfort of their daughter. Charlotte and I never really got along, maybe because I caught her peeking through my bedroom window with her binoculars two summers ago. Because she's a disgusting pervert. Sharing a room with her was the literal bane of my existence, but hey, what were next door neighbors for? They had to make your life a living hell. "Your dare." Kiara looked blankly and I explained, having to keep my physical embellishments to a single hand while the other held the divisive item in place. "Remember last night, when you said you'd accepted dare and my dare was for you to wear an outfit of my choosing for 24 hours? You remember, don't you?" "Yeah, so what?" "Well here it is." "I'm not playing anymore. I didn't want to play in the first place. And if you think I'm going to dress up like some slut so you can finger yourself later, you're mistaken." Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Charlotte's a lesbian. I mean, how much of a pervert could she be? Didn't she have self-respect? "I'm going to finger myself later anyway, and trust me, Kiara, I have the internet - nothing you can do or say or wear will ever compare to that." I tossed the plastic at her and then tackled her to the bed when she flinched to catch it. "You're not going to welch on a dare, are you? I didn't take you for a scaredy cat, for a little pansy who doesn't keep her word..." I shoved her off me, onto the floor, and threw the pillow down at her as hard as I could. She stared up at me with the biggest goddamn smile, like I was playing. Could she be that stupid? "Leave me the fuck alone, Charlotte, seriously." "Not until you keep your word." "Jesus Christ, fine, whatever." How bad could it be? "Lay down." She huffed and I poked her right between her cleavage. "You're gonna be wearing this for 24 hours, you need to make sure it's on right." Had she really not realized what I was going to have her wear, yet? "It's a good thing you're so pretty, Kiara, because you're dumb as two rocks." "Lay down? Why?" Had she really not realized what I was going to have her wear, yet? "It's a good thing you're so pretty, Kiara, because you're dumb as two rocks." Charlotte shoved me onto the bed, so I was on my back, and I looked up at her with confusion. And all was fine and dandy until she tugged off my pajama pants, leaving me in nothing but my button up top and purple lace panties. I sat upright and snatched my pants back. "Like hell I'm letting some pervert undress me!” "Shut up." I slapped her on the thigh and pointed at her very sternly. "You'll lay down and be good and stop making this weird, or you'll be in a lot of trouble and trouble is not something you want to be in right now." When she argued, or tried to, I put my finger on her lips. "If you don't lay back and be good, I'll tell everyone that you kissed me, you perverted little dyke." "I didn't kiss you," I said flatly, like maybe she had mistaken me for another one of her faggot friends. But she said: "They don't know that. They only know you spent a week at my house." Well fuck. I sighed and fell back on the bedsheets, looking up at the ceiling. "Touch me and I swear to Christ I'll beat the shit out of you." "Try it." Like it or not, for all her talk, Kiara was no match for me. And she knew it, too. I grinned and pulled down her panties, tossing them aside like they were just contraband, and then began to unfold the diaper. Oh her life was going to be so much better after this... A diaper. A really, really big diaper. Like, one for old people, except it was decorated in rainbows and ponies. She taped it on me and I sat up with a sigh. A dare was a dare. And part of the deal was that no one else could see me in whatever she put me in. I thought she'd pick lingerie or something, but this... "Where do you even buy shit like this? You're such a freak..." "No more curse words, they're ugly." I pulled her top up over her arms, and when I did it, I did it slowly. I made sure her skin touched mine, I made sure my movements were deliberate in the best possible way. I didn't know how long before she'd begin to fall under the effects, but I understood it should have been straight away. This was going to be so fun! "Arms up, come on. I have a top for you to wear, stop fussing." "If anyone sees-" "No one is going to see." I believed her, too. I'd lived next door to Charlotte my entire life. For a sinful pervert, she was very good at keeping her word. She broke one of my doll houses when we were eight years old and she spent every penny of her allowance for the next two months buying me a new one. I guess... well, she wasn't that bad. Until she started acting out on these disgusting desires. So I lifted her top up and I pulled it over her arms. I leaned in close to her to do it and made sure she could smell me; smell my perfume, smell my body, my girlishness, and then leaned away once she was topless. The new top I had for her? It was soft and plush, and had designs of trains and blocks on it, with baby blue hems and snaps on the shoulders. And it would do nothing to cover up her diaper. "You're gonna be so cute." Cute...? She pulled the shirt down over my head and I looked down at the stupid childish attire. I swear... if Charlotte hadn't cut an entire foot off her hair yesterday for a dare, I would think this was going too far. But... well, I didn't think she'd call me cute or anything. Not that I really cared, it just... I looked away from her and pulled out my phone. I needed a distraction. "You don't need that." I plucked her phone from her hands and dragged her over to the mirrors to make sure she could see how she looked. When she did, she froze. She stared at herself. Cuteness. That was one of the three effects. She'd be distracted by herself at first, before her feelings became obsessive. And that would only reinforce the other two effects. How fun! I looked at myself in the mirror, at the eighteen year old girl in a rainbow diaper. The sides were striped with color and the little shirt hardly came down to the waistband. At first I was... shocked. Appalled! Because how dare she! But... I mean... wow. I mean... I touched the mirror - my fingers touching the reflected fingers - and bit my lip. I felt my heart race... what was going on? I did my best to hide my smile and left her with the mirror, plopping down on my bed and watching with contained and dialed-down glee. She was so stinking cute! Soon, she'd just be stinking. But one step at a time for my little indoctrinated. "24 hours, you understand?" "Um... y-yeah..." I stepped away from the mirror feeling dizzy and strange. Feelings I hadn't felt before. Or feelings that were always there, twisted and reformed. Molded, changed, new. I was having trouble making sense of it. "Anyway, uh. I'm gonna watch TV." "Come sit on my bed and watch from here and I’ll do your hair.” I held up my hand with a bunch of hair ties around my wrist like always, and then risked a little condescension. "I'll even let you pick which color hair ties okay? How does that sound, my cute little thing?" Cute. The word rang in my ears. I had been called cute a million times in my life - I was fucking gorgeous! But this was the first time that it seemed to matter so much. I wanted to say no. I should have said no! I didn't need her to do my hair. I didn't even want to be around Charlotte. But... that word wouldn't stop ringing... "Whatever..." "There's a good girl, come on." She crinkled when she moved, every single motion made that sound, and while I thought over time it might fade into white noise, for now it was like angels singing. It meant I'd gotten her. She crinkled as she approached, crinkled as she crawled up onto the bed, crinkled as she sat in front of me, and crinkled as she touched her diaper curiously while watching TV. Me, while listening, I hummed and brushed her hair. Cute, I said over and over in my head. I wasn't even sure what we were watching on TV. Charlotte played with my hair, pulling and tugging it into pigtails, while I ran my fingers up my thighs to the soft plastic of the diaper. Cute. It sure was, wasn't it? I sure was, wasn't I? "I want you to play with your diaper while I do your hair, okay?" She was, anyway, which was why I asked her. Told her, directed her. I wanted her to feel good about it! "Just explore it with your fingers, it's your diaper, you're wearing it for the next little while, so you should get to know it, you should like wearing it." She winced as I pulled her hair tight to start the braid. "Don't tell me what to do," I said sharply, a little annoyed. But my fingers were already against the plastic. It was hard to stop. Soft and fluffy and warm... and cute. So cute. My hair was pulled back into two braided pigtails and Charlotte stood me up. My knees felt like buckling beneath me and my hands were clammy. "I'm going to bed now," I told her simply, assertively. Because I needed to figure out what was going on with me! "Lay with me, tonight. In my bed. It's not like anything bad can happen, your diaper protects you." I was giddy as heck about this! She was so muddled up and mixed up, her head all confused and gummy, and I loved it. I wondered what kissing her would be like, at last. Or rather, having her kiss me. I wouldn't initiate, oh no, it would be more fun if she did. Her hand continued to play with her diaper, as I imagined it would all night until she slept. "Please? You're so cute, I don't want you out of my sight." Cute. My chest bubbled. My heart fluttered. I exhaled, quiet and nervous, and shook my head. It felt like anxiety... warm, hot, anxiety... almost comfortable anxiety. Scary, fearful, comfort. What was happening? I... I didnt understand... "I'm not laying with you, pervert." I decided to be a bit more firm, to see how far she'd argue with me, to calibrate my expectations of things. "You are, you're going to lay with me because you want to." What? What was she talking about? Of course I didn't want to! I... I wouldn't! Right? But I stood there in the middle of the room, like an idiot. Dressed in a diaper. A cute diaper, I reminded myself. A blush filled my cheeks. Just hit her or walk away or... something. But she said I was going to lay with her. Was she wrong? That didn't seem right... "I like your hair the best this way,” I said, to distract her. I’d put her hair in two braids, down over each shoulder, messy and childish in presentation, with mismatched hair ties at the end of each. I wondered how long she'd stare into the mirror this time. "You want me to feel your diaper? It feels nice, so you want me to feel how nice." I held my hand out to her, waiting for her to guide me and obey. I looked at her, confused, and then down at her hand. It feels nice, so I wanted her to feel how nice. Gosh, that made a lot of sense. So I put my hands out to touch hers. My skin on her skin. Her fingers against my fingers. And I took a step back with burning cheeks. My heart was racing... I looked up at Charlotte, unable to understand what I'd just felt. What I... I'd never felt for her. Oh no... "You want to impress me, you want me to see how nice you feel." Her cheeks were the color of Christmas tree decorations, bright red and shiny, and I made the logical connection for her. "You're wearing a diaper. You wear diapers. You like to wear diapers. You don't need to, but you want to, and you love it, you were just to shy to tell me. Put my hand on your diaper." Pretty and pony and rainbows. I want to impress her. I like wearing diapers? I want to. I was too shy... I... I shook my head, but my hands trembled at my side. My head was blurry, foggy, like I was missing all the important details. All I could see was a shadow in the fog. A shadow of Charlotte, and her instruction. Obey. The word sunk into me like a knife in my spine. I felt paralyzed. My hands reached out and took her hand, and pushed it to the front of my diaper. I looked up at her, scared and confused. "Charlotte... I don't know what's going on... please..." "You're just confused, this is hard for you to talk about, you've never talked to anybody about it, but you trust me." Gosh the diaper felt lovely on her. My fingers touched the plastic, material not like any other, and she pressed my fingertips firmer against her. "You're not just a cute face, though, you're not just cute because you wear diapers, you're cuter than other girls that do because you use your diaper. You use it for everything, you choose to, you love it, you're proud to." "I do not! I don't!" I knew this was wrong! I knew she was wrong! Everything about this was a lie! She was lying to me! I didn't wear diapers - this was the first one I'd worn since I was three years old! And I certainly would never want to! I shoved her hand away from me and stormed toward the bedroom door, before a word froze me in place. "Stay!" She was frozen, but only for a moment. "Come back here." She came back to me. She stopped in front of me. I put my hand on her cheek, smiled, and turned her back to face herself in the mirror again. "You've never felt this cute before, and you want to be cuter, don't you? Using your diaper is the pinnacle of cuteness, nobody is ever as cute again as they are when they're children, and this is the apex of being a child. You don't want to be a child, but you want to be as cute as one. Tell me how much it means to you." Fuck you! Wait... that hadn't come out. I said it louder, but it wouldn't leave my lips. I looked at the girl in the mirror, in the rainbow diaper, in the childish shirt, with braided pigtails... and I told the truth. "Being cute... is... is the most important thing in the world," I muttered. "It's so important to me..." And it was. It was so important. I felt tears in my eyes. What was going on?! When did this happen?! "Anybody can be clever, anybody can be rich, anybody can be beautiful, but being cute..." I let my hand rest in front of her, near her diaper, but not touching, inviting her to make the connection. "Only very special people can be cute. Are you special, Kiara?" I nodded my head. Her fingers were so close to the front of my diaper. My diaper... my cheeks turned a darker shade of red. How had I let this happen? Why was this happening? This wasn't right... what had she done to me? "Then you want to set yourself apart however possible, you want to put yourself ahead of the pack, the others who are cute, those special few... those who wear cute tops, those who wear their diapers... you want to, you need to be above them. You need to love your diaper, you need to use your diaper, you need to be taken care of." My fingers played with her hair and she shook her head, but she didn't argue. Like she was just being force fed liquid thru a funnel in her mouth. Like no matter how hard she wanted to deny, it absorbed into her anyway. Her fingertips touched the waistband of my diaper. I exhaled sharply, closing my eyes. But I couldn't keep them closed for long. In the mirror, she stood behind me, running her fingers up my sides, between my legs, and I felt like I was melting into a puddle on the floor. I looked up into her eyes, at her smile, with a warm idea. The same feeling as before. Feelings of... of... "I'm going to make cocoa." I stepped away from her, playing my gambit, I stepped away from her and left her in the mirror to herself. She knew now what being cute meant, what she'd do for it, and what it could do for her. She knew she could have me stay by being cute. I wondered just how deep her obsession had grown. I paced from one side of the bedroom - with the television - the other side - with the mirror. This was insane! I was going crazy! Firstly, I was dressed in a goddamn diaper in the middle of Charlotte Penning's bedroom! And secondly... there was nowhere else I wanted to be. The way she touched me, the way she spoke to me... I felt things that... that... ugh, what was going on! Was it all a bad dream?! I finished making the cocoa after a few minutes. But I waited a full fifteen before I returned upstairs, mugs in hand, to see how things had progressed. It was like an investment! Like a savings bond, maturing, paying dividends, or something like that. The fact I was so incredibly turned on by her was just icing on the cake. I knew what I had to do. I had to confront her. I knew who I was. I knew what I liked and... and who I liked! Whatever was going on, she had a part to play in it. Maybe she had drugged me. Or maybe she had gone into my brain and rewired the circuits, like in those sci-fi movies. But the truth was clear: this was all Charlotte's fault! And when she came in that bedroom door, I was going to give her a piece of my mind! But when she actually did come through that bedroom door, I hesitated. Because even in her pajamas, her hair short and messy, she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen in my entire life... "I remembered how you don't like marshmallows because they have gelatin in them, so I got these vegetarian ones?" I held up the little baggie in one hand, the two mugs of cocoa in the other. "But then I didn't know how many you'd want, so I just brought the bag with me." I was being sweet to her. Overly. In a way that would normally annoy her. But I knew better than to expect that kind of reaction now - I knew how she'd react to my being sweet. I was giddy at the thought. "Thank you," I mumbled, looking at my feet. We sat together on her bed and watched television, sipping our cocoa. Neither of us spoke. What was I supposed to say?! And what was she supposed to say? I licked my lips, playing with the rim of my mug. "Oh, oops..." I brushed my thumb up her chin where her cocoa had dripped from the side of her lips and then sucked my thumb clean. "You almost made a mess. And not the super cute in-your-diaper kind that you're always talking about wanting to do." ...that caught me off guard. But the motion of her putting her thumb to my lips quickly overwrote her comment. She went back ti sipping her cocoa and I stared dumbfounded at the television. It wasn't much later that the two of us were lying side by side on her bed, but I couldn't think about anything but her... "You're so precious, you know..." I was playing with her hair when I started to talk, but she wouldn't look at me, not yet. I knew what she wanted, I knew about the third Factor she'd crave, and I wasn't going to make it easy for her to deny it! "I've always seen you as cute, even before you started to express it. I knew that about it... I think for always. How cute you are. How cute you want to be, how cute you can be when you stop fighting it." She acted like I had always felt this way. That I wanted to wear diapers. That I wanted to be cute. But it wasn't! I swear, it only just started... didn't it? Why was everything so fuzzy? And the more she spoke, the less sure I was. The more she told me how cute I could be, and the more instructions she'd give... "Lay on your side, like this." "Uh huh..." We were so close, in the quiet midnight hours. Our foreheads almost touched. My heart ached this close to her... "You know, I always wanted to kiss you, Kiara. I always wanted to feel your lips, against mine. I've kissed a lot of girls, but none of them are as cute as you are, none of them wear their diapers proudly, none of them use their diapers like you want to, none of them want to put their hands down my pants and see what all the fuss is about. None of the girls I've kissed are like you. If only you'd kiss me. Kiss me..." I rolled over, faced away from her, counted silently in my head. 1… 2… I climbed on top of her, diaper and all, and rolled her onto her back. And like a flash of lightning, my lips were on hers. Kissing her, over and over, passionate, warm, wonderful... my chest filled with butterflies. My head rang with nice words. And I was consumed. My hands slid up her shirt, against her bare breast, and squeezed it in my palm. Oh I didn't want to, I didn't! But I stopped her. I let her kiss me, I let her ravish me, I let her touch me, and then I stopped her. "Wait." One word. And one word to start the ball rolling. "I don't know if you're cute enough to touch me..." I looked down at her in a panic, absolutely confused. She told me to wait, and I did. My bottom lip quivered and the voice in my head kept telling me that this was the right thing to do. Stop. Wait. This wasn't right! But her final sentence... not cute enough? It felt like I'd been dunked into ice water. Tears filled my eyes... "You'll be cuter if you use your diaper, cuter still if you choose to use, cutest if you use it while you kiss me, while you touch me... and I reward cute girls who go above and beyond." In way of example, I pressed my fingers against her rainbow diaper and pushed firmly. My cheeks were crimson. My whole body ached. For the past hour, I'd had to pee. I knew I could have gotten up and gone to the bathroom. I didn't know how that fit into our dare, but I always had the ability. But I didn't go. I didn't go, because of what she had said earlier. That if I really wanted to be cute... I ran my fingers up her top, lifting it and exposing her breasts. I bit my lip, unable to take my eyes off her form, undressed, waiting... "When you're cute enough to use your diaper, I'll let you kiss my boobs... I'll let you put your lips here," I pointed to my nipple, "and here," I pointed to the other, and smiled. "When you prove to me you're cute enough, I'll make you gay like I am." "I'm not gay," I said, frustrated, as I kissed her lips. As I ran my fingers up her bare chest and over her erect nipples. As I pushed the padding between my legs into her thigh, grinding softly and whimpering into her mouth. "No you're not cute enough to be gay," I taunted her. "Maybe when you diaper is wet you will be, but probably not... not until your diaper is full and messy the way you daydream about. Daydream about it. Daydream about it right now, about kissing me, about kissing my lips and pushing back, about kissing my boobs and feeling your diaper get heavy, about kissing my pretty cunny and pressing your full diaper against my knee. Think about me making you gay, once you're cute enough. My little lezzy girl. Daydream and wet yourself now." I was aroused, and therefore, direct. "You're disgusting," I muttered between kisses. "You're a pervert... you're--" But my kisses stopped. My stomach felt tight. I felt a little dizzy. And I realized why. My body was tense, eager to obey her, eager to... to wet my diaper. And just as I figured it out, just as I screamed out to stop, a drop filled the padding between my legs. Then a stream. Slow, warm, and wet... hissing as it splashed into my diaper and soaked the space between my legs. I stared at Charlotte, with my mouth agape and a blush on my cheeks. It wasn't until I'd finished, when the diaper was sopping and warm, that the humiliation washed over me. What... what had I just done? "You did it!" I pressed my knee up against her diaper, the one she'd be wearing for the next twenty four hours, and I gave her the right feedback. "You're so proud of yourself, it was so hard to take that step and now you have you know you'll do it over and over, whenever you feel like it, to chase that cuteness." And before she could argue, I took her gaping mouth and pressed it to my chest, putting my nipple between my lips while I played with her braided hair. "Look who just got cute enough to be a little bit gay for me. You must be so proud of yourself, I'm so proud of you..." Tears dripped down my cheeks as her breast was pushed into my mouth. Her nipple between my lips. I sucked on instinct, like it was something that never left my coding since the day I was born, and I started to calm down. The feeling of her breast in my mouth... it satisfied a strange part inside me, an old part, and a very new part as well. Then I felt my stomach gurgle in a familiar way. No... why now...? "You're just learning how to be cute in ways you didn't know how before, you're breaking through your little glass ceiling, and you're learning..." It was serene for us both, or at least it was for me; serene in that whole 'I'm fucking turned on' kind of way. And boy was I! Here was my straight girl neighbor sucking on my breast, wearing a wet diaper, and being coded to be proud of herself for it. "I wish you were cute enough to be allowed to kiss my cunny, my little diaper girl... I guess you just don't want to be that cute, huh?" I had never felt so conflicted. Like I was two entirely separate people, inhabiting one body. One part of me, an mature, straight adult, furious and burning with frustration. And the other, in a piss-soaked diaper, and knowing very well what it meant to be cuter. To be enough for Charlotte. Tears dripped on her chest as I wrestled with myself, as the sensations in my stomach built. No, no, no... "If you were cute enough, I'd let you pull down my pants, I'd let you put your face between my legs, I'd let you smell my panties and how wet your cuteness made me... I'd let you take them off me, if you were cute enough." I was mostly winding myself up at this point, forgetting how potent my words were. "If you were cute enough, you could kiss my cunny, you could follow my directions and learn how to be gay, I would teach you how to be a lesbian, if you were cute enough. If you were cute and proud to be cute, I'd teach you how to eat my pussy, I'd convert you to being my little girl-hungry queer, and I'd never let you think of icky boys again, boys don't understand what true cuteness is, only girls do, and especially me. If you were cute enough, I'd convert you now..." I looked up at her with shame written all over my face. A side of me had won. The words she said, the feelings that burned inside me... I never stood a chance from the beginning. I nodded my head and she slipped off her panties. Her fingers wrapped in my hair as I smelled her lust for the first time. As I tasted it. I whimpered and moaned and pushed my face between her legs as hard as I pushed the mess into the seat of my diaper. At first it was hard to defy my years of potty training, but after the first lump slid between my legs, the rest erupted into the seat of my pants. And the room filled up with my stinky shame. Well golly gee, if the fact I had a straight girl who was awful to me ever since I told her I was gay between my legs didn't damn near make me cum, the fact she'd just voluntarily messed herself certainly picked up the slack! I moaned and pulled her face tight to my sex, tender direction given way to uncontrolled lust. "You're so cute and you're so proud of it, you're going to chase this feeling from now on, this level of cute, you'll always feel incomplete unless your diaper is filled, you'll always know you can be cuter, and when you're this cute you'll want to please me." I moaned. Damn I moaned. She smelled foul and I loved it, she was a baby and I adored it, and I told her over and over the moment she licked to my direction, that she was cute now, she was gay now, she was converted now, and she was never happier. Tomorrow might be awkward for her, waking up in my arms, diaper rash awful, smell potent, tongue tasting of my cunny, but tonight.... tonight was amazing. The next morning, I stripped myself of the diaper and showered. I couldn't stop thinking about the night before. Where those feelings had come from. Why I had done what I'd done. I cried, I screamed, I spiraled into depression, all in the matter of one 45 minute shower. I went back into Charlotte's room, dressed only in a towel, to find her still asleep in her bed. I could kill her. Strangle her! Or... or stab her. But I didn't want to. I felt... weirdly fond of her. More fond than I had ever been. And suddenly, I started to feel uncomfortable. Incomplete. I bit my lip and searched through Charlotte's closet, wondering where she'd gotten that stupid diaper in the first place. I found the package - a set of ten - and pulled one out. The tell-tale rainbows and ponies greeted me like old friends. My cheeks burned with pride and I went to wake up my new girlfriend, leaving the package of eight diapers behind. Eight Rainbow Pride diapers, with the slogan: "Proud to be cute, proud to obey, proud of your new sexuality". ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *Disclaimer: The Dotty Diaper Company’s Rainbow Pride diapers (found on abdlcompany.com) do not actually make you gay. I feel like it’s important that we specify that.
  6. Training Yourself to Wet in Your Diaper I have noticed a recurring theme on this website about training yourself to wet in a diaper. I have read some of the strategies and some comments about the strategies which seem to suggest that they haven’t worked. I'd like to suggest a strategy that I believe will work. I'm not sure that it will work, but it replicates my experience in which I have become very nearly incontinent. I'm going to break this down into four sections. The first section contains the strategy that I propose. This is the how-to section. The second section contains my comments on why it should work or at least why I believe that my strategy will work and the drink-until-you-pee doesn’t work. This also contains my thoughts on why it’s so hard to develop the habit of wetting in a diaper in the first place. The third section contains some cautions. The fourth section is a bit of my personal history about becoming marginally incontinent, how it happened and where I am now. I suppose it’s sort of proof of concept, if I can use that term. The reason that I’ve divided this into four sections is so that you only have to read as much as you want to give this strategy try. So, for example, if you’re the impatient type and just want to give this a try, you really don't have to read further than the first section and you're on your way. If you're curious about why it's so hard to wet in a diaper, want a layman’s explanation, and want to have that in mind before you judge the strategy proposing, you can start at the second section. If you're worried about what might happen if you try the strategy and actually works (which is perfectly reasonable if not highly recommended), then you can start at the third section. Finally, if you’re a skeptic (which you should be) and need some explanation as to why this strategy might work, you can start at the fourth section. If you find that credible, then you can read on. Before you try what I’m proposing, please know that I’m not making any promises, nor am I making any claims about how quickly, or successfully you will learn to wet. If it does work, cool. If it doesn't work, please don't send me angry missives about bullsh*tting you, or criticize me—I’m just throwing this out there—for information only. Also, the risks are entirely your own. I’m not a doctor; I’m just another diaper lover who comes to this website to explore my love of diapers. This is for information only. I’m not recommending that you try this. The Strategy Obviously, you need to be diapered (but maybe not, I don’t judge) and feeling relaxed about wetting yourself if it happens. That means that you can’t be worried about your diaper leaking, or someone seeing and embarrassing you or being in any situation that gives you concern about wetting yourself. So, arrange your situation so that all you have to concern yourself with is naturally wetting yourself. You need to have a ‘full’ bladder or be in a circumstance where you are feeling the urge to pee. The objective is to be feeling the need to pee. You don’t have to be desperately struggling to hold your urine but you at least need sufficient urge to pee if you relax your bladder sphincter. Again, not a doctor, so if I get the anatomy a bit wrong, allow me some license. When you feel the urge to pee, find the position—whether you have to stand or sit or lie down—in which it is easiest for you to be relaxed to pee. When you feel the need to pee, even if it is only slight, relax and let your bladder start to void (that’s medicalese for let yourself pee)(or maybe it isn’t, what do I know). Now, here is the counter-intuitive step that I think will make all the difference. As soon as you start wetting—stop yourself. Hold back your pee. Yes, that’s right. Only pee a small amount. There are two reasons. First, you don’t want to flood your diaper and risk an accident which—no matter how hard are you trying not to worry—is a natural fear that you’ve acquired through potty-trained not to happen. Second, and more importantly, if you fully relieve yourself, you’ve got to drink litres (that’s gallons for our American viewers) of liquid again, AND you’ve got to wait until you feel the need to pee again. What we’re after is a repetition of wettings and a constant feeling of having to pee. You’re diaper won’t be flooded and you won’t need to change yet. And, you’ve still got a full bladder and hopefully in a few minutes, the urge to pee will return. Drink just enough to ‘top up’ your bladder. Wait for the next urge to pee and repeat. Keep going until you need to change your diaper or until you start to worry about leaks or anything that might distract you. Why It Should Work Most of us pee infrequently during the day so a full bladder and feeling the urge to pee is infrequent and unusual. When we feel the urge to pee we usually respond automatically (Hmm, I need to pee!) and we go the toilet. The clench reaction is autonomous (you don’t have to think about it) and that’s the reflex you’re trying to break That’s potty-training. The idea here is to get you used to having a full bladder and feeling the urge to pee—all the time. You’re desensitizing yourself to the cue so that over time, you’re less and less likely to notice it because it isn’t unusual any more. That is why I suggest that you only void a small amount, so there is only a short time before the urge to pee returns. Having to pee becomes the steady state that you’re in. You are always holding your bladder—not dance around the room desperately needing to go—consciously trying NOT to pee. At some point—and this will happen if you keep yourself distracted from the urge of having to pee—you will inadvertently relax and you will pee. Spontaneously. The natural reaction will be to clench but you will already have peed a little. That is what you want to have happen over and over and over. There is something else that is happening when you do this. Your bladder has a resting shape and volume. The urge to pee comes from a distended (stretched) bladder. When you void, the muscles pull to return the bladder to its empty size and volume. Holding your urine stretches the bladder and overtime it becomes stretched or conditioned to accept being stretched. When you relax to void, your bladder will not fully empty. This is a medical condition and basically isn’t good. That’s why you’re told that you should go to the toilet as soon as the urge to pee is felt. With an empty bladder your bladder sphincter can relax and does so naturally. If when it does, there is still urine in your bladder, you’re likely to wet yourself. What you are doing is allowing your body’s natural functioning to work for you to let you wet yourself. You will always—I believe sense that you’re about to wet yourself. There just won’t be the natural reaction to immediately hold, nor will it be difficult to relax It then becomes a matter of of just allowing yourself to wet in your diaper. Also, because the feeling will come sooner, you’ll pee a smaller amount and be less likely over time to tense up. You’re probably going to have to do this for some period of time. From personal experience, though, it’s definitely not going take more than a few months—if that. Once you’ve become accustomed to wetting in your diaper you can stop. You’ll have conditioned yourself to accept wetting into a diaper, or heaven forbid, your panties or underpants. Again, this is all speculative. I’m not suggesting you try this, I’m just sayin’… Some Cautions Realize that by training yourself to wet in a diaper, you’re undoing nature’s—and your mother’s—work. You are desensitizing your body to its natural control over your bladder. Over time there is the possibility of overflow incontinence1 because you are intentionally keeping your bladder in a distended state. Your bladder will no longer be able to fully empty. In the extreme—and this is where my experience comes in—it will become very hard NOT to wet your diaper. My Personal History For three years back in 1996, I was a sales representative and travelled extensively—three weeks each month—by car. I would finish a day at the office and drive from Buffalo to different cities in the Northeast. Most trips would take 6 to 8 hours, less if I went fast and didn’t stop until I ABSOLUTELY HAD TO. So, I didn’t. This went on for months and months. Over time, and I seem to recall that it was much less than a year, I found that even with stops to pee I was always feeling the need to pee. Not much longer after that, I was feeling the need to pee before I’d gone a few minutes down the highway, then before I’d even left the parking lot. Finally, driving late one night, well between any rest stops, I realized that I was wetting myself. Cloth seats, too. Not a pretty sight. There’s much more to the story which I’ve recounted elsewhere and spoken to members here, but suffice to say, I bought some diapers the next day—quite on impulse and with no small amount of embarrassment—and began wearing diapers during my drives. Soon, I was wearing diapers as often as possible and soon graduated to letting myself poop in them as well. I did go to a doctor when wetting myself became alarming (on the rational practical side, not on the pleasure side). I was tested and found to have overflow incontinence. The doctor hearing my story as to how this had happened was fiercely annoyed and said: “Stop it. The MOMENT you feel the need to pee, find a rest stop and go. If this goes on, you’ll be incontinent.” I sort of considered that allowing myself to wet in my diapers would be just the thing. It wasn’t. If I don’t wear a diaper during the day, I usually wear a sanitary pad—not unusual for a woman. My sense of having to pee has been slipping in the last while; I have already started to wet before I realize that I am and can stop it. I am not fully incontinent, I do have bladder control—it’s just that my timing can be off. Similarly, if I wear diapers to bed, I am very relaxed and secure. During the night the urge to pee barely wakes me and frequently, knowing I am diapered, I will just relax and wet my diaper. It has been rather alarming recently to wake in the morning in a wet diaper with no recollection that I needed to pee during the night. Either I didn’t wake enough to remember and intentionally allowed myself to wet, or—and to some degree this is worrying—I have made myself a bedwetter. The implication of this is that I’m now very leery of sleeping without a diaper and terrified to sleep over anywhere without diapers and plastic panties. 1. Overflow incontinence is a steady or frequent dribble of urine because the bladder doesn't empty completely. [It can lead to incontinence.] Incontinence is more common in people as they get older. (viz. https://www.google.ca/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=benign+urinary+retention&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&gfe_rd=cr&dcr=0&ei=JfVfWoDhJKKdXvG7nOgN)
  7. Life and Death Choices Made Casually The bell rang and Angela stood up gingerly to leave the classroom. She clenched her butt cheeks together and walked as quickly as she could toward the bathroom. She passed by the rows of lockers and didn’t even stop by for her books. Her stomach rumbled and she winced in pain as the cramp hit her. She squeezed her cheeks with all her might, but she knew she would make it to the girl’s bathroom. She had to. She was eighteen and a senior in high school. There was no way she could live down an accident. The cramp subsided and she continued her journey to the porcelain relief. It was just down the hall. She hurried as fast as she could, but she couldn’t run or even walk normally or she would poop--in her panties. Still, she persisted until she made it to the bathroom. The girl’s room was a mess at 1:30 in the afternoon. There were paper towels on the floor, lipstick on the mirrors, and she was sure she would find pee on the seats, but it didn’t matter. She was desperate. She groaned in disgust. All of the stalls were full. She stood in front of the row of stalls waiting. “Please hurry. I’m desperate.” Her voice sounded soft and alien to her. “Hold on a bit,” a girl called from one of the stalls. A girl flushed and exited a stall and Angela stepped toward it. Before she took a second step, she felt another cramp in her abdomen and she bent over slightly. That was all it took to make it the worst day of her life. The load she had been holding in Mrs. Miller’s class squeezed out in her panties. It was sudden, her accident. It wasn’t slow; it just came out and there was a lot of it. Her load was wet too, but solid enough that it met the resistance of her jeans and spread in the seat of her panties. She looked around and saw at least ten girls who were staring at her. One of them had her mouth open in surprise, but soon they would all know and then the whole school would make fun of her. She felt a blob of poop escape the leg bands of her panties and ride its slimy journey down the inside of her blue jeans to the floor. “She pooped her pants,” a girl said. “Hey everyone,” one of the girls yelled into the hallway. “Angela pooped her pants.” Angela wanted to say something. They had to be wrong. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. She heard a pattering noise and looked down. To add insult to injury she was peeing her pants as well. She could only stare as the wet patch on the front of her jeans grew. “I wish I could die,” she said. ### Bridget Addison cowered in fear in the passenger seat of her big rig. Eighteen wheels of power moved uncontrollably down the street. She was supposed to be the driver. She had the commercial driver’s license to prove it. She also had the hazardous materials and explosives endorsements that allowed her to haul the 9000 gallons of gasoline in the tank trailer behind her rig. It was supposed to be an easy job. She didn’t even have to leave the city. She just drove around from gas station to gas station refilling their stock. At five o’clock she would return to the oil depot and drive home in her own car. Today was different. As soon as she left the oil depot, she headed toward her first stop. It wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods, but she had always felt safe. She had grown up here. In fact, the truck driving school where she got her license was in the same neighborhood. She was the only pretty thirty-two-year-old in the whole class. When she arrived at the first street light she had to stop. The armed gunman opened the driver’s side door and pushed her aside as he mounted the cab of her eighteen wheeler. “Sit quietly or you’re dead,” he said. He took the wheel and begin to drive east away from the city. It wasn’t worth dying over someone stealing gas. Bridget sat still in the passenger seat. Still the calculations came to her head. That was her talent. Gas was $2.53 a gallon for regular. With her combined load of super and medium grades as well, the fuel was worth $23,470. She made a little more than that in a year, but not much. It was still not worth her life. She pulled her knees up to her chin and stared at the gunman. The man drove in silence. Every so often he pointed the gun in her direction, but he still had to shift. Bridget needed both hands to drive. At lights and on straight roads she could reach for the radio or even take a cell phone call, but she generally kept one hand on the steering wheel and another on the shifter just in case. The highjacker had to shift and hold her at gun point as well as steer. She cringed with each metal on metal crunch as the rig clipped other cars. “Slow down,” she yelled. “You’ll get us both killed.” Sirens sounded in the distance and she knew it wouldn’t be too long until the police caught them and she would be safe, unless… The man pointed the gun at her again. “Shut up or you’ll get it,” he yelled. …unless he planned to hold her as a hostage. She shivered. She just wanted to get home to her apartment and forget about today. The gunman turned a right and Bridget saw the trailer take out a fire hydrant as the rear of the trailer hopped the curb. Bridget felt the whole rig shake and she worried that her cargo might ignite. A full load would sure be hazardous. He turned left again, but it was less violent. “Why’d you turn here?” she asked. “This road only goes to the school.” The gunman turned off into the grass and drove toward the Arthur Miller Elementary School building. She realized what he was doing and knew she had to do something. She waited until he had to shift gears and then dove for the steering wheel. Riding her momentum, she turned the wheel to the left, hoping to turn the truck away from the school. The truck careened and jackknifed around and she was thrown free out the window of the semi. She lay on the ground stunned, the wind knocked out of her. If she could have taken a breath, she would have breathed a sigh of relief as she watched as the tanker missed the elementary school. Her relief was short lived as the tanker plowed into the building next to it: the middle school. She watched in horror as the gasoline exploded on impact. The screams of the students mixed with her own as she woke up in her sweaty jumpsuit. “Will you knock it off?” yelled the inmate in the cell next to hers. She looked at her surroundings. Bars, a steel toilet, the narrow cot in which she slept, and more bars. She had awakened to the same nightmare every day since the terrorist attack. “Today is the last day I wake up screaming,” she promised. The next time she went to sleep, she would never wake again. The terrorist who had tried to ram her truck into the elementary school was consumed in the explosion. The terrorist group had also claimed responsibility for the attack. No one had believed her that the gunman existed and today she would die because she couldn’t prove that he was the real killer. “If only I would have turned the wheel to the right,” she whispered. She knew if she did that, the elementary school would have been hit. She had twelve years to relive the attack over and over again. Every day she had second guessed herself as she sat in a prison cell. At least today she would be able to eat what she wanted. She knew a New York strip steak, a slice of apple pie with ice cream would be on its way to her today. She debated with herself on the ice cream. She didn’t dare eat dairy products because lactose intolerance would give her digestion problems, but she figured she may as well enjoy the ice cream because she wouldn’t be around long enough to need to worry about the after effects. She went to the sink in her cell and splash water on her face and returned to her cot to wait for her fate. ### The priest hadn’t been helpful. The food, on the other hand, was divine. She walked slowly down the hallway toward the waiting gurney. “Will you want the needle in your right arm or left,” an orderly dressed in white asked her. “Does it matter?” she asked. She hopped up on the gurney. This is really how things are going to end, she thought. The orderlies strapped her down to the gurney. A strap across her knees and chest and wrist and leg cuffs made any desire to fight impossible. She could have fought. She almost wished she did as they rolled her into the execution chamber, past the witnesses. The witnesses were some of the parents of the middle school children. Most had to watch the execution on a video monitor outside the prison since the number of witnesses were limited to twelve. Their eyes stared cold daggers into her as she lay helpless as the execution took an alcohol-soaked cotton swab and cleaned her arm. “Is that to prevent infection?” she asked. She smiled a bit, but no one else seemed to think it was funny. Gallows humor couldn’t hurt, could it? “Do you wish to make a statement?” the executioner asked. “I tried to stop him,” she began. “If only I’d turned the wheel to the left. No that wouldn’t have worked. Or if I fought him before he was going to hit a school…” She stopped talking when she realized she was only babbling. The executioner took the needle inserted it in her arm. At the same instant Angela Murphy said, “I wish I could die,” Bridget Addison said, “I wish I could live.” Both of them got their wish. ### Bridget almost stumbled. First she was lying horizontally and then she was standing. She looked around. She was in the middle of a bathroom surrounded by high school kids. Was this hell? It had to be and the students must have been what the children her truck had killed would have looked like when they got older. No, the math wasn’t right. Those students would be in their mid thirties now. “Angela pooped her pants. Angela pooped her pants,” the students chanted. Bridget’s legs felt warm and wet. She looked down. She had peed herself. She smelled a foul odor, felt a glob of poop rolling down her leg. She had pooped her pants. If she had pooped her pants, who was this Angela girl that did the same? A blonde girl walked into the bathroom. She looked at Bridget and her eyes traveled downward toward her crotch. She pushed through the crowd and took Bridget’s hand. “Stop making fun of her. You should be ashamed. Go to class.” She pulled Bridget out into the hall. The blonde girl was pretty, but just a tad chunky. A size eight or ten, Bridget thought. No, this is high school: a size seven or nine. She wore jeans and a long sleeved shirt. On top of the shirt she wore a t-shirt that said, “I heart dorks.” She wore the yuckiest brown glasses Bridget had ever seen. They had big eighties lenses like Bridget had worn in junior high. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you to the nurse’s office.” She pulled Bridget by the hand. She was in still shocked by what happened. One minute she was about to be executed and another minute she was standing in the middle of a high school having disgraced herself. Bridget felt the school nurse’s eyes glare at her. “You’re eighteen?” she asked. “Miss Grosstree wouldn’t let her go to the bathroom,” the blonde said. “She is very strict,” the nurse agreed. “We’ll have to call your mother to pick you up.” She turned toward her desk and picked up the phone. “What is your mom’s number?” the nurse asked. “Umm,” Bridget said. “It’s 555-8273,” the blonde said. The nurse dialed. “Angela, I got to get to class,” the blonde said. “I’ll call you tonight.” She turned and walked away. The nurse was already on the phone when Bridget looked away from the blonde. “Mrs. Murphy. You daughter had an accident. You need to come to school right away. No, she’s okay. She just soiled herself. I know she’s eighteen. No, it is not usual at that age. Just come and pick her up.” Bridget was confused. She wondered who Angela and Mrs. Murphy were. She had a sneaking suspicion, but she dared not speculate. She stood inside the nurse’s office flushed and embarrassed. She refused to think about how she had gone from the death chamber to a high school. ### Twenty minutes later a woman arrived. She looked to be in her early fifties. From the look on her face, Bridget thought she looked very angry. She walked straight toward Bridget. “Young lady, what do you have to say for yourself? How old are you? Bridget blushed. “Umm, I…” She wasn’t about to tell this woman she was a death row inmate. She hoped the age question was rhetorical. She was thirty when the attack happened and she spent the last twelve years on death row, but she wasn’t going to tell her age in front of this stranger. “I’m too old to be having accidents,” she said. She had to walk the walk of shame through the halls to the parking lot. She followed the woman outside toward the parking lot in silence. She kept her head down as she walked toward the car. As she walked she felt the poop slide around in her panties and against the inside of her leg. “How could you disgrace yourself so badly?” said the woman. “I could imagine a first grader having an accident, but you? You’re eighteen years old and a senior. She led Bridget to a maroon Taurus and opened the passenger side door. Bridget was about to get in, but the woman grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t sit down,” the woman said. She opened the back door. Bridget watched as the woman stripped the plastic off the dry cleaning laid in the back seat. She put the plastic on the passenger seat. “You can sit down now.” Bridget sat. It felt disgusting enough to have poop in her pants, but when she sat down it was worse. The poop was soft enough that it squeezed into empty spaces inside her panties. Some felt like it moved to the front of her panties. She hoped it didn’t go inside her. The woman got behind the wheel and they drove off. The only conversation was the woman berating the state of her underwear. Bridget just ignored her and looked out the window. When she caught her badly angled reflection in the mirror she froze. Her wavy red hair was now dark brown and straight. Her face was now had the glow of youth. It wasn’t her face. She put her hand to her face and the reflection did the same. This wasn’t even her body. She looked at the woman. Her colorations and looks were an older version of the reflection. “Mother?” “What?” the woman said. She didn’t know what to say. Was this how reincarnation worked? She didn’t think she was in Heaven or Hell. She didn’t know much about reincarnation, but she had thought reincarnated people start their new life at birth, not as an embarrassed teen in high school. “What, Angela?” the woman, her mother repeated. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sure you are,” her mother said. “You still are grounded. No TV and no computer beyond what you need for schoolwork, understand?” Oh joy, do I really have to repeat this horrible part of growing up too? she thought. “How long?” “For the rest of the week.” That wasn’t too bad. “It’s Wednesday, right?” “Yes,” her mother said and turned into a driveway. The house was a suburban two story house. So much for lucking out and being reincarnated to a rich family. Maybe her karma was wrong because of how she reacted during the attack. What if she could have turned the truck far enough to the right? Would have she have ended up in a rich family or at least made the transition with clean underwear? “Now straight to the bathroom,” her mother said. I hope she didn’t think I would sit around stinking like I am, she thought. She had to waddle a bit as the poop was stuck to her bottom. Worse, it was starting to cool. Her pee stained thighs felt as if they were freezing. Her mother led her to the bathroom and left her standing inside. “Don’t move. I’ll get a trash bag.” Bridget looked longingly at the bathtub, but she stood on the cold tiled floor until her new mother returned. “I think everything from the waist down is a loss.” She shook open the trash bag and set it opened on the floor. Bridget kicked off her shoes and stepped inside the trash bag. She looked at her mother, but shrugged and lowered her pants and panties down into the trash. She looked down at her poop-streaked legs and sighed. “Would you like me to help you clean up?” her mother asked. The woman might be her mother, but Bridget still felt like she was a stranger. “I can handle it, mother.” “Okay, I will lay some clothes on the sink for you.” She left. Bridget took toilet paper and tried to get the worse of the mess off her legs and bottom. She let the paper drop into the trash bag. The shower that followed made her feel somewhat clean again. The water washed away the smeared poop, the horrible smell that seeped into her skin, and the clammy feeling of cold pee, but it didn’t make her feel truly clean again. When she emerged from the shower, the disgusting trash bag was gone. Clean panties, jeans and a t-shirt lay on the counter. She dried off with a fluffy white towel and dressed into the new clothes. When she left the bathroom, her mother noticed right away. “I put your backpack on the bed up in your room. Work on your homework until I say you can come down.” “Yes, ma’am,” said Bridget. She walked up the stairs and into a hallway. She didn’t know which was her room, but she knew it was the one with the red backpack on the bed. She looked in all three bedrooms until she found the one that was hers. The room was smallish. It contained a twin bed, a writing desk with a Macbook on it and a large chest of drawers. A bookshelf stood by the window, filled with horrible romance novels. Bridget shuttered at the sight of them. The room was overly neat. That told her that information about herself would be easy to find or not there at all. The red Jansport on the bed showed the most promise of having the information she sought. She unzipped the backpack and dumped the contents onto the bed: five spiral notebooks, a physics textbook, a Pre-Calculus book, and an English book lay on her bed. She opened the small pocket on the backpack and took out a cell phone, a little brown leather calendar, and a romance novel with a bookmark in it. She picked up the little leather book and opened it to the first page. Inside in very neat handwriting was her class schedule. She groaned when she read the list of classes. Physics AP, Pre-Calculus AP, English AP, Fundamentals of Computers, Spanish II, and Study Hall. At least she had a study hall. She had taken German in high school, but she didn’t remember much. The only Spanish she knew was from coworkers. She hoped it would be enough. She would have to seriously study to catch up. She’d also taken Physics and Calculus during the two years of college before she ran out of money and had to take that job at the department store. If her father wouldn’t have fronted her the money for truck driving school, she would still be working retail. During the past twelve years, she wished she would have stayed in retail. Her truck would not have been hijacked and her father would not have died of a heart attack the day she was arrested. She opened the calendar to the current date. Every date had the date each homework assignment was due. Her new life had been incredibly organized. She started on the pre-calc assignment. It took her over two hours to do. There were at least twenty-five complex problems and she had to read the text portion of the chapter and consult her notes to even know what to do. All the problems were even numbered problems, so she couldn’t look for answers in the back of the book. She had to solve the odd problems anyway so she would know she was doing the problems correctly. Physics was different. She thought physics would be hard, but they were studying electricity. The problems were just resistance or capacitance of circuits, and her father was an electrician. She knew the theory. It was simple to calculate those problems. That took another hour. She was about to open up her English book, when her mother opened her bedroom door. “You can come down for supper,” she said. “How is your homework coming?” “Two subjects down.” “Come down and eat.” Bridget went down the stairs. ### The table was set for two. A TV dinner was set at each place. “I didn’t make a big production of dinner because your father is not here tonight.” “Where is he?” Bridget asked. “Don’t you remember? He is one of the witnesses to the execution.” She frowned. “I wanted to be there to see that horrible woman put to death myself, but there were so many parents who lost a child at that school.” Bridget froze. Was she talking about her. “The woman who couldn’t stop the terrorist from…” “That woman was the terrorist, and you were in kindergarten then. Your poor big sister died because of that wicked woman.” Bridget remembered when the joy that the tanker missed the elementary school turned to horror as she watched it veer into the middle school instead. During the twelve years of second guessing her brief struggle with the terrorist, she relived every scenario in her mind and still no matter what children died and she couldn’t go back and fix it anyway. At least she had not been put to death. By Fates she ended up in a young body. She smiled when she thought of the chaos that was probably ensuing due to her disappearance from the gurney. The timing was none too soon; needle had almost gone into her vein. She dug her fork into the food and tried to take a bite. Her lasagna, cooked with all the finesse of a microwave, seemed a bit more satisfying. Her mother looked at her watch. “We’re missing the News.” She picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV. “I’ll let you watch this even though I grounded you from the TV, but Angela,” her mother said, “No other TV until you are ungrounded.” “Yes, ma’am,” Bridget said. She felt excitement. She was going to relish hearing the news of her magical escape. She could barely eat her meal as she impatiently waited for the weatherman to stop droning on about cumulus clouds. “In the capital today, the terrorist Bridget Addison was set to be executed.” The TV screen showed protesters out protesting the death penalty. Bridget scowled at them. She hated death penalty protesters in spite of the fact that the death penalty had made a mistake in her case. She looked back at the screen. “Two hundred forty children died when Bridget Addison rammed a tanker truck into a middle school.” The screen showed another group of people holding signs. One said, “Burn, Bridget, burn.” “I wish we could strap her to a tanker and light her up,” said a man when a reporter held a microphone up to her face. Just wait, thought Bridget, until they announce my escape. “At 1:32 PM,” the news announcer continued, “Bridget Addison was given lethal injection. She jokingly asked if the alcohol on her arm was to prevent infection, and then made a rambling statement. When she finished, she whispered something to the executioner, and lay back as the needle entered her arm. She then screamed for her father, and was pronounced dead at 1:36 PM” It couldn’t have happened like that. She didn’t die. She was sitting right here watching it on TV. Sure she had another body, but it was a newly created life she was starting anew. Wasn’t it? What if it wasn’t a great escape, but she just traded bodies with Angela Murphy? That girl was innocent of everything, but if their bodies were switched… “Oh God, Oh God,” she said. She had another life on her conscious now. She felt hot as the blood rushed to her face. Her whole body felt numb and then her thighs felt warm. A pattering sound came from beneath her chair, but she couldn’t investigate it until the news story ended. “They killed her,” she said. She finally managed to look down and just stared at her lap as she finished peeing her pants. “Angela Mae Murphy,” said her mother. No, it was Angela’s mother. She was just a cuckoo egg left behind to devour the woman’s children. She was a pretender. “Angela, you’re peeing your pants.” “I’m so sorry,” she said. She forced herself to look in the woman’s eyes, “I’m truly sorry for everything.” The lady looked at her with sad eyes. “Go to your room and change.” The woman sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Angela?” Bridget got up from the table and went to the upstairs bathroom. She undressed from the waist down and threw her wet things in the hamper. She walked bare-bottomed to her room and got dressed into some clean clothes. She heard an annoying tune. Her phone sat on top of her bed where she had dumped everything out and a light on it was flashing. She picked it up. “Hello?” “Are you okay?” the voice asked. Bridget looked at the display on the phone. “Lia?” “Yeah, it’s me. Are you all right? I felt bad leaving you in the nurses office, but I had to go to class. The whole school is talking about your accident.” She’s the blonde girl with the glasses, Bridget thought. “I was afraid of that? Do you think they will make fun of me for the rest of time, or did I just lose temporary coolness points?” “Angela, we are both in AP courses and we are in the top ten percent of the class. We never had coolness points.” “Oh,” she said disappointed, “Any other bad news?” “Umm, yes,” said Lia, “but I can’t tell you because it will make you cry.” “Go ahead,” Bridget said. “It’s about Evan Fiscus.” She had no clue who the guy was, but the way Lia was going on, she probably should know. “Is this news going to change any of my plans?” “Yes. He is being a bastard about your accident. He told me to tell you he won’t take you to prom anymore. He asked that ho Julia Grass instead. I’m so sorry, Angela.” “Oh, darn,” Bridget said. She really didn’t care about Angela’s boyfriend and it was just as well. It was bad enough replacing a daughter that was executed in her place. A complex relationship was just too much. “You’re taking this well,” Lia said. “I hope you’re not getting depression. If you’re sad you can talk to me.” “It’s nothing,” I said. “I just had a really bad day. I actually forgot how to speak Spanish.” “What? You’re the best Spanish student in the class. Just re-read the conversation over and over. We have until Monday to get it down. We can practice this weekend.” “Well I suppose you called me about homework. I finished Pre-Calculus and Physics.” “In English, just read the last three chapters of Brave New World. Miss Crampton is going to have us compare 1984 to Brave New World in an essay we have to write. That’s not due until next week. In Spanish: just work on our conversation. You wrote the whole thing in your notebook. You know this backward and forward.” “Okay, so I just memorize my part and we read it together like in a play?” I ask. “Yes. Are you sure you are all right. You don’t sound like yourself.” “I’m okay,” I said. “I’m so grounded though.” “For how long?” “Friday.” “This fundamentals of computers class: I don’t have the book at home with me. What do we have to do in there?” “You’re usually the organized one. The PowerPoint thing is due Friday.” “The power what?” she asked. Oh God, I am so screwed, she thought. “Your PowerPoint Presentation.” “Oh,” she said, “PowerPoint.” The Internet really took off while she was in prison. She had limited access to computers, but she could get magazines and read about them. She had had plenty of time to read. “You’re acting a little weird.” “Sorry, I am really drained because I had the worst day of my life today.” “Well I will let you go. I will see you on the bus.” “Bye,” Bridget said and closed the phone. Bridget opened up the spiral notebook labeled Spanish and flipped to the last marked page. Each line had neatly written gibberish following the name Angela or Lia. She flipped back until there was a heading. The conversation was three pages long. “Tomorrow, get the pronunciation of every word,” she said to herself. She pulled out her book for English class and read 1984 halfway through. “Catch up on this too,” she said. She packed her backpack and got ready for class. She wasn’t sure she wanted to face high school again, but she knew it would be an improvement over yesterday. She changed into pajamas and went to the bathroom. She got ready the best she could. She refused to guess on the toothbrush, but there was a spare in the cupboard so she opened and used it. She made sure she peed before going to bed and left to her room. The bed, cleared of the backpack contents, was actually comfortable. It was a big improvement over a prison cot. She covered up and soon was asleep. ### The truck drove on through the early morning light. All eighteen wheels gleamed. The silver tank held its 9000 gallons. Each stop was written in red marker on her map. She knew which roads to take. The hijacker came again like every other night and the dead children invited her to relive her failure to save them again. Tonight was different. There was another dead child. She waved out the door of the elementary school, as the truck skidded into the middle school. “You’ll kill me to save yourself,” she accused. The dream usually ended when the truck crashed but tonight, it continued into death row. Tonight Angela Murphy lay on the gurney. She screamed and screamed as the needle entered her arm. “You killed me to save yourself.” Bridget sat upright in the bed. It was just a dream. She felt at the sweaty sheets, but they were wetter than usual. She lifted up the blankets and turned on the lamp. She had wet the bed. How many accidents was she going to have? First in the kitchen and now in bed. She didn’t count the one in the bathroom because technically that was Angela’s accident, not hers. She had nightmares almost every night for twelve years, and this was the first time it made her wet the bed. She hoped Angela didn’t have a weak bladder or anything. Bridget sighed and got out of her wet bed. “Usually I want to go back to sleep,” she said to herself. There was no way she wanted to lay on those cold clammy sheets. She peeled off her wet pajamas and sighed. She got some underwear out of the drawer and walked to the bathroom. The heat of the shower massaged her body and she hoped it also washed away the pissy smell from her skin. She hated stepping out of the shower, but she needed to get stuff done. After brushing her teeth and hair, she walked back to her bedroom. It was still early; the clock said 5:15. She opened her closet to select what to wear. She hated everything she saw. She was used to a whole different high school wardrobe. Everything here was different. All the jeans were low cut; all the tops were immodest. She eventually selected a baby doll t-shirt that had some chemistry quote on it and some jeans. She chose the non-faded jeans. If her bladder rebelled in school today, at least it wouldn’t show, she hoped. She put all her wet things in a clothes basket and wandered over to the bookshelf. She was not going to go back to sleep and risk wetting her clean outfit, so she scanned the shelf for something enjoyable to read. It wasn’t likely with the shelf of bad romance, but she found something useful on the lowest shelf: the East High School yearbook. It might make it easier to fit in if she knew with whom she was dealing with. She read the book for another hour. “Angela, time to wake up,” said her mother. She opened the door and looked at her. “Oh, you’re already dressed.” “Um, yes,” Bridget said. She blushed at the thought of the woman seeing the clothesbasket. “Angela,” her mother asked, “Why are your sheets not on your bed?” She looked over to the clothes basket. “Did you wet yourself again?” Bridget looked down at the floor and nodded. “Angela, what’s going on?” “Nothing.” There was no way Bridget could tell the truth. “I just had a bad dream and…” “Well get ready for breakfast.” She pointed to the sheets. “I suppose I am going to have to wash those before I pick your father up from the airport. I am sure that finding out his daughter has forgotten how to use the toilet is not the first thing he wants to learn when he comes home.” “Thank you,” Bridget said. She didn’t know what else to say. ### Breakfast was delicious. Her own mother either never bothered to make breakfast, or just poured Bridget a bowl of cereal. Angela’s mother made bacon and eggs, and served juice. The empty spot in Bridget’s stomach felt warm and full for the first time in years. Maybe living here wasn’t too bad. “Your bus is coming in about ten minutes,” her mother said. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the bathroom first?” Bridget was about to give an angry reply that she wasn’t a four-year-old, but given her accident record in the last day, she bit her lip and went to the bathroom before running out to catch the bus. As soon as the big yellow bus pulled to a stop in front of her, Bridget remembered why she hated that part of school. Riding the bus had been the most humiliating part of high school for her. She bit her lip and walked up the steps. The bus was crowded, dirty, and it smelled. A few people whispered and pointed when she got on. She knew they were talking about what happened the previous day. She guessed their whispers were, “She’s the girl who had an accident,” or “She’s the girl who peed her pants.” “Angela.” Bridget looked around. Lia was waving at her from halfway back. She stepped over the obstacles of backpacks in her path in the aisle until she got to Lia and took a seat next to her. “Hi,” she said. “Buenos dias,” Lia replied. She smiled. “What?” Bridget asked. “I was saying good morning to you, chica. Did you sleep okay?” “Oh yeah. Spanish.” Why didn’t Angela take German? Better yet, why didn’t she take Spanish in high school? She remembered. Jesse Stevens took German, so she had to take it to so she could get a date. It was a wasted effort. He took Allison Stewart to junior prom. She did well in German, so she never regretted the decision until now. If only she had taken Spanish, then she would not have to learn two years of language in less than a semester. “I got it taken care of. I found our conversation in my notes. We’ll go over it Friday night, right?” “That’s what I said,” Lia replied. Bridget twisted her hair around her finger and tried to think of something intelligent to say. “So are you seeing the new Star Trek movie?” Lia asked. “There’s a new Star Trek movie?” Bridget asked. “I guess that is a no,” her friend said, “You know those Harlequin romances will rot your brain.” “Will they really?” Bridget asked. “I guess not, but you are too smart to read those.” Lia smiled and looked out the window. “Hey. We’re at school.” The two girls filed off the bus and headed to their lockers. Bridget just followed Lia. How was she going to know which locker was hers? Bridget’s face turned red as the answer to her question became readily apparent. A baby diaper taped to her locker worked as well as a flashing beacon that pointed her way through the fog of students. Lia ripped the diaper off and tossed it in the trash. “How dare they,” she yelled. Bridget randomly turned the lock on her locker. It was no use anyway. She wouldn’t know the combination. “It won’t open,” she said. “Here, let me try.” Lia opened the locker up. “I guess I am just upset,” she answered. She pulled out her books she thought she would need for the morning and followed Lia to pre-Calculus. The class was boring. The teacher droned on and on like the science teacher on the Wonder Years. She whispered her thoughts to Lia. “What’s the Wonder Years?” “Just an old TV show.” She couldn’t make that mistake too many times. If she wasn’t grounded, she would have spent time watching TV to see what she should be making references to. The Ferris Bueller teacher kept rambling on. He probably didn’t even notice his white-board marker faded to illegible scribbles five minutes ago. No, that was just an epsilon and an alpha. The rest of the morning classes were uneventful. Physics was more lecture and in English they discussed Brave New World. Mrs. Miller took the opportunity to embarrass her by asking her to compare the life styles of John Savage and Henry Foster. She had no idea who the woman was talking about. “Um, I don’t know.” “Angela did you even read the book. Your paper on differences between themes of 1984 and Brave New World is due Monday. It is Thursday.” “I’m working on my paper,” she said. “Can you answer the question?” she asked Lia. “John was a savage and had a mother. Henry was born in a test tube. It was an insult if someone suggested you had a mother or a father.” “Good, Lia,” said Mrs. Miller. “At least someone knows the material.” After class, they went to lunch. Before going to the cafeteria Bridget stopped in the restroom just to make sure. “Wow, Miss Grosstree really laid into you about not knowing the material,” Lia said. “You usually know your stuff. What happened?” Bridget thought of a quick lie. “You know that book I have with Fabio on the cover?” she asked. “Well I wanted to know if Tilda and Henri got together. They hated each other at the beginning of the book and... Well, I read it instead of Brave New World. So did Henry really come from a test tube?” “Angela, are you getting senioritis? Even if you already got into college, you will still need to take your AP tests to get college credit for your basic courses.” “I will read it tonight,” she told her. She guessed it would be no sleep that night. She was going to finish 1984 and start on Brave New World if it killed her. *** When they stood in line in the cafeteria, Bridget knew she had been wrong. The bus was not the worse part of school it was the cafeteria food. She took her tray and sat down with Lia. Lia opened her milk and took a sip. “I didn’t know how far behind you were slipping.” “Oh relax,” Bridget said. She forked a bite of her spaghetti. “This tastes like prison food,” she said. “What would you know of prison food?” ask Lia. “Are you kidding? I’ve been here for what, almost twelve...” She stopped herself. “I don’t know, but I imagine cafeteria food and prison food are similar.” “Exactly you’re guessing.” “So.” “Don’t look. Evan Fiscus and his ho Julia Grass.” Bridget looked. Julia was blond and skinny. She wore a top that was so low, she had to keep pulling it up so her breasts wouldn’t spill out which was a remarkable feat considering her breasts were on the small side. Her blonde hair was long, but thin and she apparently was no stranger to peroxide. She did look pretty though, but Bridget knew that Angela’s body was better. She was more curvier and had a prettier face. Evan Fiscus was just a jock. He wore jeans and a letterman’s jacket. Since it was the off-season, he grew his hair out. It had that same look that made Bridget feel old. To her all the guys looked like they needed a haircut. “I just looked. So?” she asked Lia. “He’s coming this way.” The couple came over to their table. “Hi,” Evan said. “You’re a jerk Evan,” said Lia. “This is between me and Angela,” he said. He put one arm around Julia’s waist and pulled her close to him. “Let me guess,” said Bridget. “You came over to tell me you are breaking up with me and I am gross. Did I miss anything?” “Yes,” he said. “I am dating Julia now.” “You’re just a big jerk, Evan,” said Lia. “I’m the star quarterback, so I got to keep up my reputation for cool. I can’t have a girlfriend who goes around leaving a trail.” Lia stood up. “I’m going to hurt you, Evan Fiscus.” “Don’t worry about it, Lia,” Bridget said. “I am going to go to college in the fall. No one there will know about yesterday’s incident and we’ll have college boyfriends.” She looked at Julia who hadn’t said anything yet. She had looked up Julia Grass in the year book. “What are you Julia? A junior? Are you going to trust Evan to behave himself when you are a senior next year and he is a freshman football player in college surrounded by hot college girls? Maybe he’ll wait for you.” Julia turned bright red and looked at Evan. She turned back to Bridget. “At least I don’t pee and crap my pants, Angela.” She turned and walked away pulling Evan with her. “Wow, Angela,” said Lia. “You showed them. That was pretty harsh. I thought you would be crying.” “Well in this novel I was reading, Rafe Castillo wanted to be with Lily Black even though Lisa Fennimore said Rafe was the father of her baby. It turned out that Lisa was just lying and when they got married, it turned out that she hired an actor to be the priest so the wedding wasn’t valid any way. Rafe left town and had nothing to do with either of them.” “Angela, I swear you need to put away those romance novels.” Bridget didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was actually a plot to a soap opera her mother had watched in the nineties. She would never actually try to read the romance novels on Angela’s shelf. She needed to get some science fiction in there or something. “A girl’s got to read something,” she said. “Do you have anything better for me to read? I am planning on reading Brave New World tonight.” “Brave New World is a good start, but it is too academic as far as science fiction goes. Miss Grosstree said it was not science fiction because it is good, but she doesn’t want to admit science fiction is good.” “Who cares?” Bridget asked. “Time for class.” She stood up and picked up her tray. “Are you ready to finish your PowerPoint?” “Why not?” Bridget followed her friend to put away her tray and go to class. ### Computer class was something else indeed. It should have been simple, but so much had changed while she was in prison. Bridge just wanted to run out screaming. She had used PowerPoint a bit, but it wasn’t like she was used to. So much was different. It started out bad when she sat down and logged in. Fortunately Angela had written her username and password on the first page of her computer class notebook. No problem there. Her notes also said, “Finish PowerPoint,” not “do PowerPoint,” so it was saved somewhere. She looked at Lia to see where she got her disk from, but Lia was already working on her project. She opened her backpack and began looking for it. It was nowhere to be seen. She closed her backpack and put her keys and cell phone next her keyboard. “Lia, where did I save my PowerPoint?” “Probably on your thumb drive. It should be on your keychain.” Bridget picked up her keys and looked over at Lia’s computer. She saw how it worked and put the thumb drive in the USB port and fired up PowerPoint. It was surprisingly well done. The last two pages didn’t have the data listed. It was a simple matter to type in the last two slides from the outline in her notebook. She saved it and had it ready in no time. She spent the rest of class going over the slides and practicing the presentation she thought she would have to give. Spanish was film day, so they just watched Spanish language films. Bridgett was totally lost. At least there was no assignment given. “Remember, your conversations are due next week. I think Angela and Lia are first on Monday,” said Senorita Faust. Bridget groaned. At least it was only going to be like a play. She would have to work on the conversation with Lia that weekend. She worked on homework in study hall while Lia went to choir. She thanked God for small miracles that she didn’t have to go to choir. Bridget hated her voice and she hated the idea of trying to sing with Angela’s voice. Singing is a skill of the mind, not of the vocal cords and Bridget guessed she would be horrible at it even if Angela was good. She finished pre-calculus okay and had to only take Physics, Spanish, and 1984 and Brave New World home with her. She sat with Lia on the bus. When she arrived home, her bed was neatly made with fresh sheets. There was no pee smell at all. She lay on the bed and worked on homework and only came down for supper. She lay in bed and read 1984 to its completion. She was going to read through Brave New World, but she glanced at the clock and it showed that it was already 12:30. She turned off the light and went to sleep. There was no truck in her dreams. Instead it was rats. Lots of rats like the ones that made Winston love Big Brother instead of Julia. She woke up screaming. She felt around, but there were no rats. She was in her room. The sheets were sweaty and--she felt around her bottom and found a pee-soaked wet spot. “Uggg,” she said. She wet the bed again. A glance at her clock slowed her it was six. It was time to get ready anyway. Why was she wetting the bed? There was no truck dream with dying children. She got up and stripped her bed. She hoped Angela’s mother wasn’t too mad. “I swear, Angela,” said Bridget’s mother when she came to wake her up for school. “What is this? The second day in a row? I won’t mention the accidents you had Wednesday.” Bridget looked toward her mother. “I’ve been having bad dreams at night,” she said. She did not want to tell her about her regular bad dreams and she definitely did not want to tell her about her body jumping. “We will talk about this later. Get ready for school and come down for breakfast.” Her mother walked toward the door, but turned back to face Bridget. “We need to have a talk after school.” She left Bridget alone. Bridget went to the bathroom and peeled off her wet pajama bottoms. This had to stop. There was no way she could continue waking up wet every morning that she had been in Angela’s body. She was at a loss. The hot shower water rinsed the pee smell from her legs and crotch. Her hands rubbed the soap against her skin. It was much softer than her skin had been before when she was Bridget, but of course, Angela was much younger. Her hair was an actual color: a deep, rich brown that contrasted with her milky white skin. It was a lot better than the mousey redish-brown her old hair had been, plus it was straight and smooth. She wondered why Angela wasn’t more popular. She wasn’t in the in crowd because she was smart. Lia had confirmed that, and besides, her accident in school did not help matters. Lia said people would forget about it soon, but she doubted it. She still remembered the girl in seventh grade who wet her pants before giving a presentation in English class. She stepped out of the shower, toweled herself off and hurried to her room to dress. She chose a plaid skirt and a white top--the Catholic look would always be in--and headed down stairs for breakfast. She smelled bacon and eggs as she walked down the stairs to the kitchen. A man, sitting at the table looked up from a newspaper and greeted her, “Hey, pumpkin, did anything exciting happen when I was gone.” She looked at her mother who shook her head. “No, sir.” She pulled out her chair and sat down. “Why so formal today?” he asked. Bridget’s father had been in the military and expected her to say “yes, sir” and “no, sir”. This would take some getting used to. At least she was able to spread out the misery a bit. “Sorry, Dad.” Sooner or later someone would think her miscues were strange and they might find she wasn’t who they thought she was. “I missed you when I was away.” “I missed you too, Dad.” “Well, I better get to work.” Her father folded his newspaper and walked out the door. Bridget sat and ate her breakfast. “Now remember we need to have a talk when you get home,” her mother said. “It’s going to be about my punishment for wetting the bed. Isn’t it?” She wondered what her mother could have in store for her. Fear of punishment might make things worse. She knew that a punishment wouldn’t make the dreams go away. Nothing would. “It is about your bedwetting,” her mother said, “but don’t think of it as a punishment.” She picked up Bridget’s empty plate and took it to the dishwasher. “Now catch your bus before you get left behind.” Bridget hurried out to the bus ready to begin class ### Like yesterday, Bridget rode the bus sitting next to Lia. “I’m so glad it is Friday,” she said. “So are we going to work on Spanish after school?” She really needed help to get through her Spanish conversation. She had tried reading through it, but had trouble with her pronunciation. “Well, I thought we see Star Trek and then study.” Lia looked at her and smiled. “You can stay over at my house and then we can stay up as late as we need to get through the entire conversation.” “Lia, I don’t think it would be a good idea to stay at your house.” Lia looked hurt. “I thought you would protest going to see Star Trek. We could see a romantic comedy if you insist, then you can come over.” “Star Trek is fine,” Bridget said. She wanted to see it, but did not want to wait too long to get studying. She certainly didn’t want to spend the night and wake up wet at Lia’s house. “I just don’t want to sleep over.” “We have fun. We’re best friends,” Lia protested. “Why don’t you?” Bridget would have to tell Lia the real reason she couldn’t come over. Bridget sighed. “You can’t tell anyone what I am telling you.” She paused and felt her face burn red. “It’s like this. This is really embarrassing so you can’t tell anyone.” She waited until Lia nodded. “Ever since Wednesday I’ve...” She leaned in close to Lia and whispered, “I’ve been wetting the bed.” “You what!” Bridget had to clamp her hand over Lia’s mouth to keep her from blurting out. “Be quiet,” she whispered loudly. “I don’t need that fact spread over the school too.” “That’s why you don’t want to come over, isn’t it?” Lia leaned closer. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I’m your friend.” “Me, too,” she said. “Thanks.” She still needed that Spanish study session or she would be lost on Monday. “If you want, you can come over to my house after the movie and study.” “That would be good,” said Lia. The bus arrived at school just in time. Calculus and Physics were uneventful. In the halls between classes other students would point and start whispering. She knew they were talking about her accident on Wednesday. (Rather Angela’s accident as she did not trade bodies with Angela until after she had the accident.) She made sure to use the bathroom before English class. It was Mrs. Miller who had not let Angela use the bathroom in the first place which caused the whole episode. She did not know whether to blame her for the extra life on her conscious or thank her that she was still alive albeit in a different body. She met with Lia before class. “Ready to face Grosstree?” she asked as they took their seats in the classroom. “Sure,” Bridget muttered. She had spent Calculus and Physics reading Brave New World under her desk. It was really a different type of totalitarianism than 1984. One was awful in the creepy jack-booted-thug sort of way, but the other was a overly friendly creepiness. By Ford, it was beyond screwed up. “It’s Mrs. Miller now, dork,” said a sarcastic voice behind them. “She’s only been married for two months already. Can’t you adjust?” Lia turned and stuck her tongue out. “Does it matter, Cindy?” Before Cindy could come up with a retort, class started. They started right away with Brave New World discussion. Bridget tried her best to stay out of the discussion. At least in this class she didn’t have to hide the book in her lap and look under her desk as she read it. She simply had it open on her desk and read through it. Easy as pie. She had to answer a question about what type of clone Lanina was. “Beta,” she said, “although Henry was an Alpha.” “I can see you finally read the book, Angela,” said her teacher. “Everyone, papers are due Monday at the beginning of class.” The bell rang. “Class dismissed.” Bridget and Lia got out of class quickly and went down to the cafeteria. “What joy do we have today?” Lia looked up at the menu board. “It says Frito pie. There should be some kind of true in advertising: chili poured over corn chips.” “I actually like that,” Bridget said. She pulled a plastic spork from the container and grabbed a tray of food. “Is this from Miss ‘It Tastes Like Prison Food?’” Lia took her own tray and they found a table together. “Even in prison Frito pie has to be good,” Bridget said. Sadly, it had been the only thing she looked forward to during her twelve years on death row. She couldn’t go to the weekly movies they played for the general population because of security. She could read or listen to the radio. She mainly read. “Whatever,” said Lia. She took a bite of her food. “About tonight,” Bridget asked, “when does the movie start?” “They’re showing it on a million screens, so there is one every half hour. I would like to go to an earlier showing so we can study earlier. How about just ride the bus to my house and we’ll drive to the theater. My brother is letting me drive his car.” “Um, I can’t then. I got to go home so my mother can chew me out for peeing the bed.” Bridget’s face reddened. “My dad got home and she was too busy to finish chewing me out.” “Oh he was at the execution of that horrible...” Bridget didn’t wait. She got up and ran from the table to the bathroom. She remembered the pattering pee falling beneath her chair on Wednesday and she didn’t want a repeat accident here. Fortunately she made it to the bathroom dry. She used the restroom and returned to the table. “Lia, please don’t talk about Bridget Addison in my presence again. Especially at school. It is nightmares about her that give me problems at night.” “What kind of...” Lia began. “Oh.” She looked at me with doe eyes. “I’m sorry.” The rest of lunch was spent in silence until the bell rang. It was frustrating Bridget to no end that she couldn’t keep the bed dry for one night since her metamorphosis. It was almost a relief when the bell rang and she could go to class. Fundamentals of Computers was next. She sat down at her place and logged into her machine. She still needed her notes to remember the password. She had logged in by the time Lia arrived at the place beside her. “You got all quiet on me at lunch,” said Lia. “Are you mad at me?” “No,” Bridget answered. “I was just thinking about stuff. Thanks for not bolting on me when I told you my secret.” “We’re friends. I wouldn’t bolt on you.” “Thanks.” “Besides,” said Lia. She opened the drawer under her computer and pulled out a gamepad. “I need you on my team for Friday LAN party. I hope you finished your PowerPoint.” Bridget wondered if you took turns playing or what. She hadn’t played video games in years. She had played Doom and Sim City, but that had been ages ago. Ms. Hardy, the computer teacher walked around the room. “Put your thumb drives in the basket if you are finished with your assignment.” She carried the basket around the class room. Lia threw her thumb drive into the basket and Bridget did the same. Some of the students started to work on their assignments instead of turning it in. The rest of the class pulled game controllers from the drawer beneath their computers and started to play games. Bridget started the same game as Lia. It looked like a shooting game, but a screen came up and asked what server she wanted to join. There was a list. “What server do I put?” she asked Lia. “Are you having memory problems, Angela?” Lia looked worried. “It seems that since Wednesday’s incident, you’ve asked questions that you should know and it’s really creeping me out.” Bridget froze. She could feel the blood drain from her face. Lia knew. “Umm,” she said while stalling for time. She forced herself to calm down. Lia couldn’t know the whole story. Jumping from body to body was crazy. It only happened in science fiction stories. Lia liked science fiction almost as much as she did, but Lia knew that Angela liked romance and she gave her a dig about reading too much romance. “I’ve been going through a lot of stress recently with graduation coming up, needing a new prom date, and Spanish. It’s everything at once.” She smiled. “Did you think I was a pod person?” “Pod person?” asked Lia. “Invasion of the Body Snatchers. And I thought you watched too much science fiction.” “We’re on server B2,” said Lia. Her face pinkened with embarrassment over my remark. “We’re Blue team,” she added when Bridget almost picked Red. It was a shooting game like Doom. There were no cheat codes like in Doom and the graphics were far better: no pixilation or anything. It was a lot more complicated. Her screen flashed red and her gun began to shake on the screen before her view shifted vertical to horizontal. The words, “Fragged you Accident Girl,” appeared on the screen. They did the same thing over and over until she got a handle on the controls and how the game worked. The next time they came around she shot them with her shotgun and ran across the screen to a more defensible position. She pulled out the sniper rifle and just killed Red Team players for the rest of the class period. In Spanish she had to pay attention. She was lost most of the class because the teacher taught it in Spanish. If only the teacher taught German instead. She could ace that, or at least relearn that. The Spanish teacher asked Lia something and she nodded and said, “Si.” Then she asked Bridget the same thing. She took a fifty-fifty chance and said, “Si.” The teacher seemed pleased by her remark. “Everyone, conversations are due next week. Angela and Lia volunteered to go first, so they get five bonus points. We will have a test next Friday. You should be able to handle it easily. It is on chapter eighteen in your book.” The bell rang and Bridget hurried to study hall. She got the pre-Calculus done fairly quickly and was about to pull Brave New World out to read, but the bell rang. She hurried to the bus. At least she had the weekend to get caught up. She hoped she could make it through Spanish and graduate. ### On the bus ride home, Lia seemed excited. She chattered constantly about what she heard on the Internet about Star Trek and how when the new Spock did a mind meld, he gave a whole new meaning to the term “my mind to your mind.” “I don’t get it,” said Bridget. “Because Zachary Quinto plays Siler on Heroes.” She paused to see if I recognized what she was talking about. “And Siler eats peoples’ brains.” “Ick,” said Bridget. “I don’t think I want to watch Heroes.” “Don’t worry,” said Lia, “I won’t watch it anymore after this season. I’ll pick you up in an hour,” she said. The bus stopped in front of Angela’s house. Bridget hadn’t even noticed. She got off the bus and went into the house to have the talk with her mother. ### “How was school, Angela?” asked her mother. “Fine,” she answered. “Sit down and let’s talk.” Bridget sat down on the couch and her mother sat beside her. “You wet the bed two nights in a row and on Wednesday you not only had an accident in school, but you had another one at the dinner table. I’m worried about you.” “I...,” Bridget started to say, but stopped. She didn’t know what to say at all. She was going to be grounded, she knew it and then she would do horrible in Spanish and maybe not get into college. She hoped she could do well if she failed the conversation assignment. She bit her lip and looked at her mother. “How long am I grounded for?” she asked. “I’m not punishing you. I am sure you didn’t mean to have accidents, but I am getting tired of washing your sheets every morning. Just because I work at home doesn’t mean I have time to deal with housework. I have deadlines you know.” “All right, I will try not to wet the bed,” said Bridget. She knew she would anyway. “I think maybe you should wear protection to bed,” her mother said. “I bought you something to wear to protect your sheets.” “What do you mean?” asked Bridget. “Come on up to your room.” Her mother led the way to Bridget’s bedroom. On her bed was a package of Depends. “There is no way I am going to wear diapers,” said Bridget. “I thought you said you wouldn’t punish me.” “It’s just for night. No one will ever know. You don’t have to wake up in wet sheets anymore.” “I can’t. Lia is going to spend the night. I don’t want her to see me in diapers.” “I’ll put them in your closet then.” Her mother carried the bag of diapers to Angela’s closet. “I just thought they would be more comfortable than wet pajamas. We can try them out tomorrow night. Just try them one night and see if you like them.” “I’ll think about them,” said Bridget. She did not want to wear diapers. Even the old people diapers her mother picked out would make her feel babyish. When her mother left, she went to her closet to pick an outfit for the movie. “Jeans and a math shirt would work. Her shirt said, “The meaning of life.” It had a sigma notation equation that worked out to forty-two. She smiled. At least Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was still popular among other students. The doorbell rung, which meant Lia had arrived. Bridget hurried down to meet her. ### “The movie was really good,” said Bridget as the two girls walked out of the theater. She was surprised that even though they stepped away from cannon, they managed to do it without pissing off the fans, herself included. “I liked it too,” said Lia, “but now I really have to pee. I wish I didn’t drink all that soda.” “I drank as much soda as you and I got to go too,” said Bridget. They finally got out of the hallway and then saw the huge line for the bathroom. Bridget didn’t have to go that bad. None of her accidents were from having to hold it too long, except maybe the first one. They were all from nightmares or the surprise of finding that the real Angela died in her place. Lia, however, was wiggling and crossing her legs. “Lia, want to get a slice of pie at Village Inn? We can walk across the parking lot and use the bathroom there before we even get halfway through this line.” “Good idea,” she said. Bridget led the way out of the theater. She resisted the urge to stop at every movie poster and see what would be playing next. The idea of seeing another movie intrigued her. She moved on. Outside the theater, drivers sat in parked cars waiting for people. Others were standing around talking on cell phone arranging rides or regrouping with friends when they were separated in the crowd. A middle-aged man in jeans and a t-shirt walked toward the theater. He kept his salt and pepper hair trimmed close, almost like a crew cut. His gray eyes pierced through her; they felt cold and there was not a hint of compassion in them. She recognized the eyes. She dreamed of a younger version of this man every night when he hijacked her truck and ran it into the school. The owl tattoos on his arm confirmed her suspicion. This man was the hijacker. She felt numb. What could she do? Would anyone even believe her? She felt hot and moist and... “Angela, Angela, Angela!” Lia hit her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Angela, you’re wetting yourself.” Bridget looked down. Her jeans were soaked between her legs. She stood in a warm puddle, and she was the last one to realize it. The worse thing was it was almost summer, so it was still light enough that it was obvious that she had soaked her jeans. People around her were staring or whispering to one another. Lia’s announcement didn’t help matters; instead it called attention to her. Evan Fiscus and Julia Grass walked up. “It’s your pee-baby ex-girlfriend, Evan,” Julia said with a grin. Evan’s was more shocked than anything else. “What is wrong with you, Angela? Having accidents?” He shook his head and walked away with the giggling Julia. Bridget looked back at the man with the gray eyes and the tattoos. He had a few friends with him and they were walking back to the parking lot. Lia dragged her in the same direction and they headed toward her brother’s car. “What happened?” she asked. “I didn’t think you had to go that bad.” She stopped and crossed her legs and then started toward her car. “I can’t let you sit in the car either. My brother has cloth seats and he will never let me use the car again if I bring it back pee stained.” Bridget started crying. These accidents were ruining her new life. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “It’s okay,” said Lia. “I am going to end up like you if I don’t find a bathroom soon,” she said. Bridget dug in her purse for a twenty. “Get us a whole French silk pie when you go in there.” She needed comfort food after tonight’s experience. What would her mother say when she walked in the house like this? “I can’t believe you still want pie,” said Lia, as she walked away from the car. She was shaking her head. While Lia was gone, Bridget looked around. The terrorist and his friends got into a Prius with Washington plates. The girl was young looking, maybe nineteen or twenty. She wore a greenie shirt that said “Go Veg!” on it. The man with her was in his mid-twenties. He wore regular clothes. She watched as the Prius drove away. She didn’t know whether to be relieved they were gone, or worried about what they were about to do. She shivered. Her pee-drenched jeans were beginning to cool and the wet clammy fabric clung to her. People driving by slowed and stared at her. She covered her wet crotch with her hand, but it only rubbed the fabric of her panties against her privates. She blushed and held her hand further in front of her. She knew she would need to explore this feeling later, but now she had more reasons to want to change into dry pants. She thought of the past accidents and thought about what triggered them. They occurred whenever she was alarmed and scared about something to do with the attack. Last night’s bed wetting was the exception, so maybe it was an anomaly or maybe she was just off about the whole accident thing to begin with. She did know she had no way to stop them or even predict them. She thought of the bag of Depends on the floor of her closet. A tear ran down her cheek when she realized what she would have to do. Lia came out of the restaurant about fifteen minutes later. “They didn’t have any French silk. I got Reese’s peanut butter cup pie,” she said. She unlocked the passenger side door for Bridget and took the pie out of the plastic bag. She put the bag on the seat. “I can sit on this bag,” she said. When she sat down on the plastic, Lia handed her the Styrofoam box the pie was in and went to the other side. “Lucky you made it,” said Bridget. “You only had one bag.” Lia ignored her. “Let’s get you home and out of those wet pants.” “Thank you, Lia,” she said. “Most people would have stopped being my friend. I guess I am embarrassing to be around.” She pointed with both hands to her lap. “I can’t say I am not tempted, Angela.” Lia concentrated on driving, so she did not look at her. “I promise I won’t leave puddles behind anymore,” she said. She thought of the Depends and how she didn’t want Lia to see them. She didn’t trust herself to stay dry anymore, so she would have to show Lia before they went to bed. “Angela, you couldn’t help it,” Lia said. “Don’t make a promise you don’t know that you can keep.” “You see what I mean when we get to my house. It’s so embarrassing wetting myself all the time. I wonder what my mother is going to say when she sees me come home like this.” “We can stop at my house and I can run in and get something for you to change into. You’ll have to change in the car.” She wouldn’t mind changing in the car, but she was going to wear the diapers her mother got her until it was safe. “No, I don’t want to pee on your clothes too. Let’s just get to my house.” When she got home her mother was not too happy. “What happened, Angela?” she asked. She saw Lia come in behind her. “Lia, go on up to Angela’s room.” She turned back to Bridget. “This is getting to be a problem. I am going to make an appointment at the doctor’s office for you. Until then, we’ll put you in the Depends I bought.” “During the day too?” Bridget asked. She didn’t blame her if her mother did make her wear them. “That is up to you,” her mother said. “No one will know if your wear them, but they do know if you wet your pants. When Lia leaves in the morning we’ll start on the Depends. At least until the doctor tells us what is wrong.” Bridget closed her eyes. “I’ll wear them.” If this wasn’t a punishment for wetting her pants, the whole situation was a punishment for not saving those children. “I’ll wear them now.” She kept her head down and could not even look at her mother. “Go take a shower. I will get your things. Lia will never know you are wearing protection.” Bridget went to the upstairs bathroom and peeled off her wet clothes. She looked at the image of Angela in the mirror. “I’m sorry things had to work out like this, kid.” By the time she showered and dried off, her mother knocked on the door. “I got your things in my room. I didn’t want Lia to walk in while I change you.” Bridget blushed. She never imagined having to wear diapers again. She wrapped herself in the towel and followed her mother. “Lay down on the bed.” Bridget complied. She closed her eyes and hoped for the diaper to be on so she could get dressed and get out of there. She waited but nothing happened. “You need to watch me so you can do this yourself. You don’t want me to have to come to your school to change you, do you? Besides, you’re big enough to do this yourself.” Bridget blushed. There would be no way to keep the diapers a secret if that were to happen. She watched as her mother powdered her, and taped her diaper shut. She handed her pajamas. Bridget pulled them on. Being naked in front of this strange woman, Angela’s mother, frightened her. If she knew who Bridget really was, the woman would kill her. She felt so vulnerable. The diaper felt thick and snug. It was thicker than the Always pads she wore during her periods. She hoped it could be hidden under her clothes. As she walked out of the room toward her own, she heard a crinkling sound. She would have to wear tight panties over the diaper or something, if she wore it to school. She wondered what Lia would say when she noticed. She opened the door. Lia had put on her own pajamas and was sitting on Angela’s full bed. “Angela,” said Lia, “I was just thinking: what happens if you wet the bed tonight? Won’t you get me wet?” She wrinkled her nose when she said “me”, so Bridget knew the idea disgusted her. “Let’s just get started on Spanish,” Bridget said. “I’m serious, Angela.” She would have to either send her home or tell her about her diapers. They were diapers even though her mother was careful to just call them Depends instead of using the word diaper. “I won’t get you wet,” she said. She pulled down the waistband of her pajamas enough to show the diaper. “My mom bought them for me today for the bedwetting, but after what happened after the movie, I am going to wear them just to be safe.” “O-M-G, Angela,” said Lia. “How long is your mother making you wear them?” “I’m going to the doctor’s, probably on Tuesday, to find out what is wrong with me. Until them I am wearing them.” “Well at least it’s less noticeable than wet pants.” “I hope so, although I don’t plan on peeing in it.” She paused a few seconds. “On purpose anyway. Now let’s get started on Spanish.” It was all Bridget could do to get Lia to focus on Spanish. She kept stopping to ask what it felt like to use a diaper, and since Bridget didn’t know that, what it felt like to wear a diaper. They went through the conversation until Bridget was sure she could get through it by memory. Every so often, Lia would stop and ask, “Is it wet?” or an equally embarrassing question. “So the conversation...,” Bridget said when they got through it enough times. “How was it?” “You did great,” said Lia. “Don’t worry about it. I could have done without you being silly and mispronouncing stuff at the beginning. When you stopped joking around you were good.” “So Monday then,” said Bridget. “Yes Monday,” Lia said. “So Angela, are you really going to wear those diapers to class Monday?” “I don’t see that I have much of a choice. I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of all our friends.” Bridget didn’t want to think about what would happen if the other students discovered that she was diapered. She supposed she would cross that bridge when she came to it. School only had another month anyway. She guessed she could stand the embarrassment for a month. She looked at the clock and yawned. “I didn’t know it was so late.” “Yeah, it’s one o’clock.” Lia yawned and stretched. “I’m ready to go to bed.” They settled in bed. Bridget closed her eyes and tried to sleep in spite of Lia’s soft snoring. It didn’t help that after several hours Lia woke her up. “Are you wet yet?” she asked. “No,” Bridget growled and turned her back and curled into her covers. She felt so a peace when she finally got to sleep. ### She ran as fast as she could, but they were still behind her. She couldn’t just run away from the engine noises because the men in the Prius chasing her were running off the batteries. She had to constantly look back to make sure they had not veered off to double around and come at her from the front. She could see the tattooed driver through the Prius’s windows. His cold, gray eyes pierced her as she tried to escape. She ran toward a gas station she saw in the distance. If only she could make it there, she would be safe, or at least she hoped she would find refuge there. When she arrived at the gas station, she saw no one in sight. The windows were dark and since the only light came from the flickering neon beer lights, she realized it was closed. The pumps were the old style ones with mechanical digits indicating the amount of gas bought and the price. The marquee over the pumps had peeling paint. The only sounds she heard were the metal price advertisements tapping out a warning when the breeze hit them. She looked behind her, seeing the Prius try to run her down. Inside was the terrorist who stole her rig, the young college girl, and the other man she had seen at the theater. The Prius grew as it sped toward her, becoming her own tank truck. The man inside stared her down. It was less than ten feet away when it burst into flames. She braced for the coming impact, but none came. She woke up sweating and screaming. “You okay, Angela?” asked Lia. Bridget rubbed her eyes and tried to get her bearings. Light streamed into the room. She felt her bed near her bottom, but there was no wetness. “Just had a bad dream,” she said. “At least I didn’t wet the bed.” “Well, that’s good,” said Lia. “Maybe you won’t need the diapers anymore.” She put her hand inside her pajamas and felt the plastic of the diaper. It actually felt thicker than it had when she put it on. It also felt squishy. She put her hand in the diaper. Her skin was wet and when she took her hand out, it smelled like pee. “I do need them,” she said. “I’m wet, but my bed is dry.” Lia got out of bed. “I’m going to go take a shower.” She hurried out of the room. “But I--“ Bridget started to say. She got out of bed, took off her pajama bottoms, and looked in the mirror. The blue stripes up and down the front of the diaper were gone. She felt so babyish in the diapers, but at least she didn’t have to strip the bed. “And tomorrow, Angela” she said, “I will plan how to get the people that did this to us.” Bridget took a shower after Lia left. She had a lot of work to do and she hadn’t even finished Brave New World. She would have to do that today to get the report finished. That would wait until her shower was over. She had left the diaper abandoned in the bathroom trash and concentrated on washing herself. Her skin smelled of pee, but that had become a familiar feeling to her of late. She rubbed the scented soap into her skin and felt much cleaner. Once clean, she dressed in a clean diaper, a t-shirt, and some shorts. It was hard to get the diaper on herself, but she managed. She did not want to ask her mother to do it for her again. She got up and spun around in front of the mirror. She couldn’t even see the shape of her diaper underneath her clothes. When she walked down the stairs, it crinkled audible. She blushed. “I’m definitely wearing tight panties over these,” she said to herself. “How did you sleep?” her mother asked. She was getting ready to cook breakfast again. “Did Lia notice your protection?” “I slept okay. I wet again, but the diaper got it all,” said Bridget. She tossed her hair. “Lia didn’t notice it until I told her.” “I am definitely going to make a doctor’s appointment for you,” said her mother. “This is not normal for a girl your age. You are being very cooperative about the wearing the Depends, but I would rather find out what is wrong with you.” “Me too. I don’t want to be in diapers forever.” Bridget knew the doctor wouldn’t find anything physically wrong with her. It was probably psychological and she didn’t know what to tell the shrink. Even if she was inclined to tell the truth, the psychiatrist would think she was crazy. She needed to find that terrorist and bring him to justice. Maybe that would stop the wetting. To find him, she knew, she would need help. She just didn’t know how she would get it. Breakfast was eaten in silence. Her father had already gone to his buddies to practice in their garage band. It was pretty cool to have a father that was a rock star, even if the only money the band made was from t-shirts and CD sales when they played for tips in bars. Her real dad worked at an insurance company. Insurance paid better than rock star; fortunately, her new dad kept his day job. She closed her eyes to keep from crying. Her real father’s death was her fault too. She still blamed herself for his heart attack. If only she had fought of the terrorist sooner she would still be able to spend time with him. She excused herself from the table and began reading Brave New World. It was noon by the time she finished and she had to bolt upstairs when John Savage hanged himself. This book and 1984 had crappy endings. She went to the bathroom and dried her face. She felt like peeing too, so she lowered her diaper and peed like a normal girl. It sure felt good to be in control. When she finished, she pulled up her diaper and shorts and hurried into her bedroom. She had a report to write. The paper only took a few hours to type on her Mac Book. What took so long was figuring out how to use a Mac in the first place. Once she opened Word, it was a simple task to type her report away until she lost track of time. When she finished it was three o’clock. She printed out her report and read over it to check for errors. Then she put it in her folder. Physics and Calculus were both easy compared to writing a paper. Both were just math problems. She finished each of those by five. She thought of her status after wetting in school and in front of her classmates at the movie theater. Wasting a Saturday with school work wasn’t going to hurt her social status at all. Her mother knocked on her door and came in. “I made supper. It’s just the two of us since your father is practicing with his band.” “Sounds good. I’m starved.” She followed her mother down stairs. The table was set already and a cooked frozen pizza was divided in between too plates. She sat down across from her mother. “Have you been staying dry today?” her mother asked. She blushed and nodded. “Good,” her mother said. “I went shopping for groceries today. I also got you some more supplies.” “Shouldn’t we wait to see what the doctor says?” she asked and took a bite of her pizza. Did her mother plan on her being in diapers forever? “I would have, but the top of you Depends sticks out the back of your shorts. I got you some pull-up style protection. It should be easier to manage during the day.” She quickly slapped her hand above the top back of her shorts and felt plastic. She could feel her skin heat up with embarrassment. If she had gone to school dressed as she was, then she might have been really humiliated. She imagined the cries of “Diaper baby, diaper baby,” of the other students and almost shivered at the thought. “I’ll change into one and test it out,” she said. “Finish your dinner first,” her mother said. Bridget sat down and fidgeted until she had eaten. As soon as the meal was over, she grabbed what was obviously incontinence products from one of the grocery bags her mother had brought home and took it upstairs. She peeled the bag open and pulled out one of the pull-ups. It looked like a thick pair of granny panties. She sighed and pulled off her diaper and pulled on her new disposable underpants. They were thick and itchy, but at least they didn’t peek out of the top or legs of her shorts. She checked it sitting and standing. She even bent over at the waist in front of her mirror. That showed the diaper from the leg holes in her shorts, so she decided not to do that. Satisfied, she decided to go to the mall. The little diary said it was Lia’s birthday on Monday. Bridget knew she had to get her something. Lia was excited about going to University of Idaho next fall, so she thought she would get her something with the Vandals mascot on it. She would like that. She walked down stairs. “Mother, I finished my homework. Will you please take me to the mall?” Her mother sat on the couch with a laptop on her lap and a pen in her mouth. She typed away for a minute and before she answered her. She fished car keys out of her pocket and handed them to Bridget. “You can drive. Just do it safely and make sure you have your license with you. I only want you to drive to the mall and back. Understand?” “Yes ma’am.” She was surprised. She hadn’t realized that Angela even had a license. She checked her purse and found it. She also packed a spare pull-up and headed to out to the car. “Hurry back,” her mother called to her, “you got to reply to one of your acceptance letters. You are running out of time.” “Oh, yeah,” said Bridget. “I’ll do it when I get back.” She was surprised Angela hadn’t done that yet. Bridget hadn’t driven since that fateful day twelve years ago when she was hijacked in her tank truck. She sat in the driver’s seat, started the car, and backed out of the driveway. She breathed out with relief; she still remembered how to drive: one of those things she could never forget. The trip to the mall was short. She got out of the car and walked in to the usual pre-summer Saturday crowd. She remembered that there was a sporting goods store nearby. She walked through the mall until she got to where it was. Instead of a sporting goods store, she found Pottery Barn. She walked right by. There had to be a place to buy Lia a Vandals t-shirt in the mall. Half the people in the mall either wore Bengals or Vandals shirts. This was Idaho after all. She continued walking until she found a store called SporTees. The store was devoted mainly to Vandals and Bengals t-shirts, but it also had NFL, NHL, and baseball tees. She went to the Vandals section and looked around. There were traditional t-shirts, baby doll t-shirts, and muscle shirts. Lia was a little chubby, so she decided to get a traditional t-shirt instead of a baby doll shirt. Unfortunately, the shirt she wanted for Lia was on the top rack. She had to step on her tippy toes to reach it and even then it was hard to get a hold of. In hindsight she probably should have asked for help, but instead she stretched to reach it. She had it in her hand when she fell backward into something soft and landed on her padded butt. “Are you all right?” asked the girl she landed on. The girl got up and reached down to help Bridget. She was the girl in the Go Veg shirt from the night before. Today she wore a PETA shirt. It actually said the real slogan instead of what she was used to: “People for the Eating of Tasty Animals.” She was so surprised she wet her pull-up a bit. “I’m fine,” she said. She wanted to grab the girl by the neck and force her to tell her where the terrorist who had ran her truck into the middle school. She wanted to waterboard her, but she had no idea how to go about the practice. She knew it involved water. “They put the shirts up too high,” said the vegetarian girl. To Bridget, she looked almost sickly. Her skin had an unhealthy paler and Bridget thought she could see the outline of girl’s bones through her skin. “I want that Washington State Cougars shirt.” She pointed at a baby doll shirt on the top shelf. “I’m going to be a freshman there in the fall. I live in Seattle. My uncle came here to meet someone and took me along so I could see the Washington State University. It is so much cheaper here than at the campus store.” Bridget was dying to press for more information. She didn’t dare spook the girl. “I still have to choose. I just can’t decide yet. I got acceptance letters from places,” she said. “My best friend is going to Moscow for college. I am getting her this shirt.” She held up the shirt she had literally fallen for. “My name’s Flower,” she said. “My parents were hippies.” “Br--Angela,” she started to say Bridget, but remembered at the last minute. “Brangela is a funny name.” Her face turned red as Bridget guessed she realized she said something rude. “Not as funny as Flower.” “My name is Angela. My friends call me Brangela because my boyfriend’s name is Brandon.” She showed her a picture of Evan Fiscus. “Wow, I bet you are going to the school he goes to. I wouldn’t let him go off alone, Brangela” “Just Angela now. He left me for the easy girl at my high school.” Bridget didn’t mind slandering Evan Fiscus at all. It actually felt good. It almost felt too good. She was beginning to like Flower and that couldn’t happen. She still wanted to get revenge against the terrorist and all his friends. “Well, it was nice meeting you.” She pointed to the terrorist who had walked into the store. “My uncle is here. I got to go.” Flower turned and walked to the cash register, paid for her shirt, and left. The pee started filling up Bridget’s pull-up. She was afraid it would leak, so she tried hard to stop peeing. She felt drops of pee at the legs of her pull-up. She hung up Lia’s shirt and walked quickly out of the store to the bathroom. Tears welled up in her eyes. The diaper would have held until she got to the bathroom, she thought. The pull-up was going to leak; she knew it. She hurried in the lady’s room and grabbed a stall. She pulled down her shorts and the pull-up and let the rest of her bladder out in the toilet and cried. She pulled off her shorts completely to survey the damage. There was a tiny wet spot on the inseam of her shorts, but it was hardly anything to worry about. It wasn’t even noticeable. She put on her spare pull-up and her shorts. It wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it wouldn’t be embarrassing to walk around the mall or even return to SporTees. She bought the shirt for Lia and returned home. ### Her mother intercepted her as soon as she got home and handed her a stack of papers. “You got to confirm your acceptance with one college or another by next Friday. That means you need to mail it out Monday morning. I don’t care which school you pick.” “Alright.” Bridget spread the mess on the kitchen table and spent some time sorting it. She had scholarships to both Idaho schools and Washington State University. She also had an acceptance letter to MIT, but she wouldn’t be given scholarship money and out of state tuition there was expensive. She picked the Washington State. Not only did it have a Electronics Engineering major, but it was where the vegetarian girl Flower was going to school. Maybe she could use Flower to get to her uncle the terrorist and--she still needed to think through the and part. Bridget was a sophomore when she dropped out of college because she ran out of money. This time she would finish. She filled out the forms she needed and put them in an envelope. She wrote thank you notes to the rest of the schools and got the envelopes ready. “Did you decide, Angela,” her mother asked. “Yes,” she said. “Washington State.” “That’s a good school too. At least it’s not too far away. You can come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Her mother looked disappointed that she didn’t pick something closer. Bridget realized that Angela was Mrs. Murphy’s youngest child--the baby of her family. She felt bad for Angela’s mother, but she had to leave Idaho and go to Washington to solve her problems. It would be the only way to get closure and end her wetting problem. She handed her new mother the envelopes and scooped the rest of her paperwork mess and took it up stairs. She went to bed feeling complete. Even thought she knew she would wake up dry, she put on a diaper before going to bed. The accident in the mall did not count. The pull-up hid it from everyone in view and she only had accidents during the day when she saw the terrorist. She fell asleep and began to dream. The tanker truck crashed into the school in her sleep again. The terrorist was more vivid and real than ever. She saw everything about him: his eyes, his face, his rough hands, the barrel of his gun, and she felt the heat of the fire before she woke up screaming. She was safe in her room. Light drifted in from her curtains. She felt the dry bed and smiled. She was dry, but she remembered her diaper and felt inside. She had wet the bed again. “Angela, hurry or you will be late for church,” her mother called as she knocked on Bridget’s door. “Oh yes, church,” she said. She got up, wrapped a robe around her, and took a shower. After putting on makeup and brushing her hair, she returned to her bedroom to dress. It had been a while since she had been to church. In prison, she couldn’t go to the chapel with the other prisoners. They kept the death row inmates separate. Instead, a priest would visit her each week, but it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t even Catholic. From seeing Angela’s clothes, she would have never thought the Murphy family went to church. She always remembered having to wear a dress to church. Her father had told her that only harlots wear pants to church. She never had the guts to tell her father that harlots probably didn’t go to church, but all her friends had worn dresses. She dug through the closet until she found a dress that didn’t look like an evening gown or didn’t look too casual. She finally settled on the one cotton dress she could find. After putting on a pull-up and pulling on the stockings, she pulled the dress on over her head. She looked in the mirror and twirled around. The only visible indication that she was well padded would be hidden when her mother zipped up the back of her dress. “Are you ready for church yet,” her mother asked. Bridget opened the door and turned away from her mother. “Need help zipping up,” she said, “then I am ready. When she felt the zip being pulled up she grabbed her purse and an extra pull-up and tucked her protection inside incase she needed it later. “Do you need a spare,” she asked, “or is that for just in case?” “It’s for just in case, mother.” Bridget felt herself blush as she looked at her mother. Her mother wore normal pants and a shirt. She didn’t look ready for church. “I’m surprised you are wearing that dress. I’ll have to take your picture in it and send it to grandma. She wondered why she never saw you wearing it.” “I really don’t have very many church clothes,” said Bridget. She followed her mother down stairs. Her father stood by the door. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis. Her real father had always worn a coat and tie to church. She hadn’t been to church since the last time she was a senior in high school, so maybe things had changed. “You look nice Angela,” her father said. “The boys in your Sunday school class won’t be able to pay attention to the lesson. “Thanks, dad,” she said. “I’ll though I am sure I’m not the only girl that will dress nice.” He shrugged and they walked to the car. Once they got to the church parking lot, things got complicated. Bridget did even realize they were at a church until she saw the sign above the door that said the name of the church. She was used to a church with a steeple and stained glass windows. This looked like a normal building. They walked into the lobby and her parents walked away. “See you after Sunday school,” said her mother. Bridget looked around confused, but then saw Lia. “I’m glad to see you here,” she told her friend. “You’re dressed up,” said Lia. “Of course,” she said. She looked around and everyone seemed to be underdressed for church. Lia even wore blue jeans. “You’re acting weird again,” said Lia. “Almost like you did since Wednesday. You are acting like you never been here before.” “Let’s just go to our Sunday school class,” said Bridget. She followed Lia, but tried to make it look like she was not following her. When they got to Sunday school, the lesson was about forgiveness. She seethed with anger. She could never forgive the terrorist with the owl tattoos and those cold, gray eyes. She tried to tune out the lesson and thought of something else. Finally it ended, and she rejoined her family in the auditorium. There was none of the songs or piano music she was used to at church. The music was all done with guitars and there was a quartet instead of a choir. Instead of songbooks, the words to the songs were beamed onto a big PowerPoint screen. When the preacher got behind the pulpit to give a sermon, he wasn’t even wearing a tie. Bridget spent the entire sermon looking around, so she never did remember what the sermon was about in the first place, although the outline of the sermon was also beamed to the screen. After church, everyone walked to their cars and traffic backed up around the parking lot. Bridget was ready for the bathroom, but she knew she could wait until she got home. She also looked forward to the smell of roast beef in the oven that would greet her when she got home, but instead of going home, her father parked the car in front of a restaurant. She didn’t recall her new mom putting a roast into the oven after all. Bridget waited until they had sat down and ordered before excusing herself to use the restroom. Her pull-up was dry so far, but she didn’t plan on peeing in it on purpose. She used the toilet like normal. She returned to the table and started to eat her food. “So, Angela,” said her father, “your mother tells me you picked a college.” “Yes, I did: Washington State,” she answered. “It was one of two schools that offered me a scholarship.” “Better not tell Lia,” said her mother. “I think she planned on having you as her roommate at University of Idaho.” “She’ll have to say something,” her father said, “I heard Lia saying the two of you would be looking for an awesome apartment near campus.” “She never mentioned that to me,” said Bridget. “I just have to go to Washington State. I’ll have to find an apartment there, I guess.” “Freshmen at Washington State are required to live in the dorms,” her father said, “at least when I went there.” Bridget’s smile faded. The dorms. That would mean sharing a room and having to hide her bedwetting from a roommate. “It’s too late to change.” “It’s not that bad,” said her father. “I met some friends I still hang out with in the dorms in college.” “Are you worried about your nighttime problem?” asked her mother. “Mother!” She couldn’t believe her mother had told her father. “What problem?” he asked. He was probably just trying to find out to protect his daughter, but Bridget didn’t want him to know too. “She’s just having stress about getting ready to graduate,” said her mother. “I just have been washing the sheets a bit more.” She saw her father redden a bit. “Oh,” he said. “So what do you think of the Cougars?” He obviously tried to change the subject. “Sounds like fun. I heard if University of Idaho loses to the Cougars they have to walk all the way back to Idaho from Washington.” “Watch out,” said her mother. “I recall seeing Washington State people walking back to their campus a few times. University of Idaho sometimes wins.” “One of the problems of a mixed marriage,” said her father. “My parents warned me about dating across school rivalries.” He put his arm around Bridget’s mother. The whole scene embarrassed her. Her real mother died when Bridget was still young, so she never remembered her father and mother flirting with one another. She just sat and ate her meal while her parents ignored her. After lunch they drove home. Bridget changed into comfortable jeans and a T-shirt and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening working on her Spanish. It was hard reading through the entire Spanish book and her notes and remembering enough. She also looked over the conversation Lia and she had practiced until she could do it with her eyes closed. She still had no idea what she was saying, but at least the words were right. She was about to put everything away in her bag and enjoy the rest of the evening when her cell phone rang. She flipped it open. “Hello?” “It’s Lia,” said Lia, “You ready for our Spanish conversation?” Bridget said her first line from memory. “Yes, I’m ready.” “Well we got to plan for college,” she said. “I’m going to find a cute yet cool apartment in Moscow. It will be cool living right near campus and...” She went on and on. “Moscow, Idaho might be a bit too far for me,” said Bridget. “I hate to disappoint you, but I am going to Washington State.” “What?” asked Lia. “I thought we would be going to school together.” “We’re still best friends,” said Bridget. “I don’t want to fight over the cute guys with you, so we’ll have to be on separate campuses.” “But I’ll be alone. You’ve been my only friend since kindergarten. Who else will I be able to hang out with?” Bridget sighed. “We’ll make new friends, and besides: we won’t be that far apart. Washington State and University of Idaho are a little over seven miles apart. We go farther than that to go to the mall.” “It just won’t be the same without you, Angela,” said Lia. “Well get rest for our Spanish conversation tomorrow.” She heard a click as Lia hung up. She felt a little bad about upsetting Lia, because she had grown to like her over the past few days. She was great about the accidents she had witnessed as well, but Washington State was important in her quest to get the terrorist guy and keep him from hurting other people. She took out a science fiction book she had gotten at the school library and read it. ### Tonight, she realized what was going on earlier in the nightmare. She even managed to get the semi-truck stopped before it rammed the middle school. She steered hard to the left and the truck rolled to its side. It lost a lot of momentum as the metal screeched and groaned across the ground toward the school. It stopped right in front of the entrance to the school. She had tumbled to the driver’s side window, her arm pinned between the ground and the overturned truck. The terrorist had fallen on top of her. The fuel tanks had rupture and she could smell fuel, but at least the students were safe. She felt the ground where her arm was pinned. It was wet from the spilt fuel. She tried to get up, but her arm was pinned. The terrorist was still masked, but she could do something about that. She grabbed at the mask with her free hand and tried to expose the terrorist. He only laughed and reached into his jacket. Whatever he touched made a beeping sound. “Beep, beep, beep.” She grabbed at his hands, but he shook her off of him, but she revealed what he had exposed. A ticking time bomb strapped to his chest said, “0:02” seconds, then 0:01 second, then she woke up screaming. When Bridget sat up she realized three things: first, she slept in her clothes, she saturated her pull-up, and she wet her jeans and her bed.” Her hand brushed something hard. It was the book she had been reading the night before. She had fallen asleep reading. At least the book didn’t get wet or pee stained. She hoped the rest of her day would be much better. Monday started with wet sheets and wet clothes. Bridget had fallen asleep before putting on her diaper. The pull-up she had been wearing was saturated and besides, it was not made for use when lying down. Bridget got up and stripped her bed before doing her morning shower. In the shower, as the pee was scrubbed from her body, Bridget felt better. She had the University of Idaho t-shirt to give Lia for her birthday. She hoped it wouldn’t lead to an argument about her choice of school. She got dressed and made sure she had a clean pull-up on and some spares packed. She did not relish another public accident. She wore jeans and a T-shirt that said “Knights Who Formally Said Ni” on it. On the back was a picture of a shrubbery. “How did you sleep?” asked her mother when she greeted her for breakfast. Bridget looked at her father. She did want to talk about her bedwetting with her father present even if he already knew. “Um, good.” “Well that’s good,” said her father. He picked up his briefcase and guitar and started toward the door. “I got band, so I’ll be late getting home tonight.” He walked out leaving Bridget alone with her mother. “So, do I still need to make you an appointment?” asked her mother. “You probably should,” Bridget answered. “I wet last night and I only had a pull-up on. I need my sheets washed again.” “Angela.” Her mother looked at her with a stern look. “Am I going to have to put your Depends on you for bed?” “No, I can handle it. I just fell asleep before I meant to. I still had my jeans on.” She did not want her mother to change her. She’d gotten used to doing for herself. Her mother put a plate of sausages and eggs in front of her. “Eat your breakfast. I will make an appointment for you to visit the doctor’s tomorrow. “Thanks,” said Bridget. She hoped the problem was medical and she could take a pill to stop peeing herself. She forked at her breakfast and ate some of the eggs and a few of the sausages. Maybe something would go right today. She looked at her watch. “Ooh, time for the bus,” she said. She got her backpack and Lia’s present and ran out the door. ### Bridget climbed onto the bus and looked for Lia. As she walked down the aisle to claim her usual spot behind her, Lia didn’t pick up her bag off the seat to let Bridget sit down. “Still mad at me about my college pick?” she asked. Lia nodded. “I got you a gift for your birthday.” She held up the gift bag with the Vandals t-shirt. Lia moved her bag so Bridget could sit down. She opened the package and pulled out her gift. “Oh, a Vandals t-shirt. Thank you.” She folded up the shirt and put in her backpack. “I’m sorry I was mad at you. Still, why did you choose Washington State over University of Idaho?” Bridget looked at Lia. “It’s complicated.” What was she supposed to tell her: that she possessed her best friend and was actually Bridget Addison? That would get her nowhere. If Lia repeated that to someone else it might get her locked up in a mental hospital. “Tell me,” Lia said. “I don’t know,” Bridget said. She stalled a bit. “I guess it is just where I feel I belong. Besides, most everyone else in our class is going to Idaho State or University of Idaho. I don’t really want my toilet problems to follow me to college.” Lia looked down. “Oh, I never thought of that.” The bus pulled up to the school and Bridget and Lia got out and walked to Physics class. The class assignment was to build a circuit by copying the schematic from the whiteboard. She couldn’t believe they actually had to build a real circuit on a breadboard and everything. It took the entire class period to finish it and then have it checked by the Ben Stein lookalike teacher. Finally class ended and they went to pre-calculus. “Ready for the test?” asked Lia. “I think so.” Bridget sat down and waited while the teacher passed out tests. Bridget looked it over. She was glad she had brushed up on her Calculus homework the past couple of days. She sat down and began answering the questions. By the time the test was over, she really had to pee. She turned in her test and asked the teacher, “May I run to the restroom.” He nodded and Bridget left the classroom to go pee. She had to go so bad, she didn’t know what she would have done if he refused. No, she knew what she would have done. She would have been changing a wet pull-up in the busy bathroom between classes: that is if it didn’t leak. Once in the bathroom, she pulled down her pants and pull-up and peed just as she heard the door open and shut. Someone else was in there with her. She was glad once again that her mother got her pull-ups instead of her plan to wear diapers all day. She knew the diapers would have been crinkling as she changed them. At least the pull-ups were relatively silent. When she finished and left the stall, she ran right into Julia Grass. “Watch it, Miss Pee-pee Pants.” Julia set her purse on the bathroom sink. “Any luck finding a date for prom?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t think you did. No one wants a prom date that leaves a trail.” “Shut up and leave me alone, Julia,” said Bridget. “I was humiliated enough the first time, and you got my ex-boyfriend already. What more do you want? To make me feel horrible about myself? Well you got your wish.” Bridget turned and walked out of the bathroom back to class. English was boring as usual, but as promised Mrs. Miller picked up the papers at the beginning of class. She spent the rest of the class period passing out copies of the last book they had to read before the semester ended: the Scarlet Letter. Bridget flipped through it while the Mrs. Miller droned on about Nathanial Hawthorne for the rest of the class period. “Was it just me or was Grosstree especially boring today?” asked Lia. “Especially boring,” said David Krouse, one of their classmates. “I mean, who cares about a bunch of Puritans.” “I always liked that story,” Bridget admitted. “You would,” said Lia. She turned to David. “You should see her bedroom. It is filled with trashy romance novels. That is all she reads.” “I read other things,” said Bridget. “Name the last book you read and you can’t count the 1984 or Brave New World,” said Lia. “Fire Upon the Deep,” said Bridget and stuck out her tongue. “Really,” said Lia. She looked shocked because she never expected Bridget to know the name of a science fiction book, much less read one. She forgot about that problem as she saw David walking away. She pulled him back by his backpack. “Ask her,” she hissed at him. David suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Um,” he said. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not going to ask Angela to the prom. Everyone will make fun of me.” “You’re a jerk, David,” said Lia. “Go away.” “It’s alright, David,” said Bridget. “Don’t worry about it.” She turned to Lia. “Thank you anyway. But don’t worry about prom.” Bridget had been to her own prom. It was at a hotel ballroom. Here at the school Angela attended, the prom was going to be in the school gym. That really didn’t excite her much, but she didn’t care. “It was still jerky to say that.” “You put him on the spot, Lia,” Bridget answered. “I’m not exactly prime prom material. Who wants a prom date that leaves a trail?” “Aren’t you wearing one of your...?” “Yes, but I’m not advertising it and that won’t get me a prom date either. Let’s just eat lunch.” Lunch was better than usually. Today it was Frito Pie again. Bridget sat down with her tray and enjoyed her meal. Maybe today was looking up. She hoped Spanish would go well. It should. She and Lia had practiced it enough. “Let’s go over our conversation one more time, Angela,” suggested Lia. Bridget nodded in agreement. “¿usted habla español?” “Si” answered Lia. They ran through their conversation one last time before the bell rang. Computer class was non-eventful. They were just giving their next assignments and told to start them on the computers. Bridget didn’t even get a quarter of the way done. She supposed she would do it at home that evening. She had the Spanish conversation on her mind. She worried that the teacher might ask her some questions in Spanish that she hadn’t rehearsed. She looked over at Lia. She was typing away oblivious. Bridget envied her calm. Finally, the bell rang. Lia touched her shoulder and smiled. “It’s okay,” she said. “You practiced this.” They walked out of the hall to class. In the hall, Julia Grass bumped into them. “So, Accident Girl,” Julia sneered, “I heard you had to scrape the bottom of the barrel and ask David Krouse to prom.” “David’s not the bottom of the barrel,” said Lia. “He is pretty smart too.” “Yeah, he was smart enough to reject Pee-girl,” said Julia. “Stop it,” said Bridget. She grabbed Lia’s arm. “Let’s go.” When Julia was out of sight Lia said, “You should have slapped her. She is such a ho.” “Yeah, and then I might have knocked loose her brain cell and then gotten in trouble.” Bridget smiled. “Besides Julia is going to have to go to community college because they won’t take her in a real college.” “You’re right, I guess.” They walked in the Spanish classroom and waited. As soon as class started the Spanish teacher said something totally incomprehensible to Bridget and Lia. Bridget had to look around before she realized Lia had gone up to the front of the classroom. She got up and stood beside her. She looked at all the students in the classroom just staring at her and froze. She would never get this conversation done. She would fail Spanish and have to stay at this school forever. She suddenly had to go to the bathroom bad. She looked at Lia. Lia just mouthed the words, “You’ll do fine. Start.” Bridget knew this. They rehearsed so many times. Bridget let a few nervous dribbles out and was grateful for the pull-up. She said her first line in Spanish. She hated speaking in front of the class. Still she waited and then Lia gave her line. Bridget did her next line. She was slow at first and stuttered through her recitation. She kept her eyes off the class and on Lia and the next thing she knew she was reading through the conversation like a champ. Before she knew it they were done. “Adios,” said Lia. “Adios,” repeated Bridget. Lia smiled at the Senorita Faust. Bridget stood nervously twisting her hair around a finger. She looked pleadingly at the teacher and hoped she would say they could sit down.” Instead Senorita Faust said something in Spanish and handed Lia a piece of paper. Finally Lia went to her seat and Bridget sat in the seat next to her. She didn’t even look at Lia. She knew they did awfully and that the teacher probably marked her way down for stumbling over, “Hablo español bien.” Bridget looked down at her crotch and felt the bottoms of her jeans to make sure she was dry. She felt damp and couldn’t wait until class ended to check the damage. She felt no wetness on her clothes; the only damage must be safely concealed in her pull-up. She looked as the next couple groups gave their conversations seemingly perfect, although a couple of times Senorita Faust rolled her eyes or shook her head before writing something down on a paper. When the conversation finished she gave the paper to one of the group members. They took their seat and the next group came up. Three groups, including Lia and herself, gave their conversations before the bell rang. Bridget fled toward the bathroom. She still had to pee, even though she leaked a bit. She entered a stall and sat down and went. As she peed she checked the wetness of the pull-up. The crotch was a bit yellowed, but it wasn’t soaked like the one she wet the bed in. If she hadn’t been wearing it there would have been a largish wet spot on her pants, but it wasn’t so bad that she would have been standing in a puddle. There were students in the other stalls and making noises in the bathroom. There was no way she could carry a wet pull-up to the trash. She pulled the damp thing back up and pulled up her jeans. It wasn’t that wet, but since she had pulled it down, the peed had cooled and was cold and irritating to her skin. She left the bathroom and went to study hall. At least here, she could work on homework. She needed to do something and studying would have to do. She worked on Physics and read some of the Scarlett Letter. She wondered what letter she would have to wear if she was treated like Hester Prynne. She didn’t know if it would be a yellow letter P for having accidents or a green letter T for Terrorist since she had been blamed when she couldn’t stop the terrorist from crashing her truck into the school. Probably the T. She felt guilty about that. The P was not something to be guilty about. They were caused by the first. She would have to bring the owl-tattooed terrorist to justice to make her guilt go away: that and the accidents. They should go away too when she made the terrorist pay. After school she beat Lia to the bus. She still wore the damp pull-up, but the coast wasn’t clear to change it in the bathroom. As embarrassed as she was by her daytime accidents, she would be more embarrassed if someone, especial Julia Grass, discovered her pull-ups. “Hi,” said Lia as she sat beside her. “Sorry about the conversation,” said Bridget, “I was really nervous.” “What?” said Lia, “We got an A. We got the five bonus points for going first. You already got an A in almost everything in Spanish.” “I’m still worried about the final,” Bridget admitted. “Seniors are exempt from finals in classes where they have an A,” said Lia. “I probably only have to take my Calculus and Physics final. You would have to really mess up to need to take a final in any class. Maybe in English though. Grosstree hates you.” At least she didn’t have to worry about finals. That only left a few more weeks to worry about. The bus stopped at her house before she knew it. “Get my homework assignments for me tomorrow. I will miss morning classes.” She got off the bus and went home. “So how was your day?” ask her mother. “Did you stay dry okay?” “Mother,” Bridget said. “Well if you’re not you need to tell the doctor tomorrow.” “No, I’m dry.” The wetness in her pull-up was just from being nervous. “I’m going upstairs to do homework,” she said. Upstairs she changed clothes and put on a new pull-up. She only had homework in Physics and English tonight and English was just a reading assignment. She worked on the last two questions in Physics and read more of the Scarlett Letter. She only came down for dinner. After dinner, this time she made sure to shower and put on a full diaper before going to sleep. She certainly did not want a repeat of the night before. The terrorist and the truck was back. This time the terrorist had a green T at his collar. She looked down at her body. Her pajama top was unbuttoned and at her breast was a greenish T-shaped mark on her chest like a festering wound. She screamed and woke up. She felt her diaper. She was wet again. She turned on the light and opened her pajama top: no mark on her chest. It was still early: only one o’clock. Bridget tried to go back to sleep. How could she enjoy reading ever again if she incorporated everything she read into her dreams. That would not work and it would have to stop. She tried to think of happier times. Maybe that is what it would take to finally fall asleep. “Angela, it’s time to wake up.” Bridget stirred and looked toward her bedroom door where her mother was standing. “I’m up,” she said. She looked at her clock. It was already 9:30. She normal had to catch the school bus at eight. “I let you sleep in. Your doctor’s appointment isn’t until eleven, but you should probably get up now.” Bridget got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom for her shower. She undressed and looked in the mirror. Her diaper was soaked almost to the point of leaking. The bedwetting needed to stop. Hopefully the doctor would have something to say about it. She hoped it was something that wasn’t embarrassing. The daytime problems only happened when she was near the terrorist. She would still need her pull-ups when she was actively hunting him. She went to the mirror and started to dress. Her pull-up would be obvious if the doctor had her undressed. She was tempted to go to her room and get some panties, but maybe the pull-ups would help the doctor know how serious her bladder problems were. Jeans and a cute t-shirt would be enough for clothes; the doctor probably wouldn’t care what she wore. She emerged from the bathroom and went to her room for her schoolbag. She would need it when her mother dropped her off at school after her appointment. Even though Bridget thought the appointment should help her she dreaded it. At least it would be a doctor and not someone good looking. Even so, she looked in the mirror and attempted to make her hair look nice. She also added make-up. “Angela, are you almost ready?” asked her mother. Bridget exited her room. “I’m ready.” “Good, let’s go,” said her mother. They went downstairs and got into the maroon Taurus. The last time she had ridden in this car, at least in the passenger seat, she had been a poopy mess. This time she was clean and she would remain clean because of her pull-up. At least she hoped. During the ride to the doctor’s office her mother constantly talked about her control issues. “Now no matter what the doctor says, we’ll still love you,” her mother said. “You’ve been very responsible about not fighting me about wearing protection.” “Well I still don’t want to be known as the girl who pees herself with or without the diapers,” said Bridget. “I want my normal bedtime routine back.” “Well, the doctor will find out what is wrong and treat you,” said her mother. Before Bridget knew it, they had pulled into the doctor’s office. Bridget got out of the car and looked around nervously. Her mother held the door to the doctor’s office open for her and they went in. The waiting room had rows of chairs. There were about four of five patients in the room. Two were children with their mothers. Two others were old ladies and then there was a man of about thirty. Bridget hoped they didn’t know why she was here. She didn’t know why they were there so it was reasonable to expect that they didn’t know why she was there. She sat in her chair and read the Scarlet Letter some more while she was waiting while her mother filled out the paperwork. She was really wondering if Chillingworth was going to do something bad to the preacher, but then she heard her name being called. “Angela Murphy.” The man was older and he was wearing scrubs. He had gray hair and he just looked old. Bridget felt comfortable now. Sure it would be embarrassing to tell him about the wetting, but at least he wasn’t a cute guy. “Dr. Ulman,” she said as she followed him down the hall. “Actually, I’m Dr. Vance. Dr. Ulman will be with you later. Go into this room.” He pointed to an examination room. Bridget went inside and sat on the examination table. The paper on the table crinkled as she scooted up on it. Dr Vance put her folder in the pocket on the door and shut it leaving her in privacy. Bridget sat bored. She looked around at all the posters on the wall. There were pictures of the heart, the lungs, and many of the other organs. There was also a picture of a man on a sailboat. Bridget didn’t think it fit in with the other images, but she shrugged. She thought the man looked kind of cute. The door opened and a man in a white lab coat entered. He was the cute man on the sailboat. He wore a stethoscope around his neck and he was smiling. “Hi. What seems to be the problem?” “Problem?” asked Bridget. “What problem? I’m just here for a checkup.” There was no way she could tell this guy that she couldn’t keep her bed dry and that she wet her pants sometimes. The doctor looked at her chart. “It says here you are having some control issues. Is that correct?” Bridget felt her face burn. She nodded and hung her head. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he said. “Lots of people have bladder control problems sometime in their lives. If you don’t tell your doctor, then I can’t help you.” “I’m sorry,” she said. If he hadn’t been so cute, she would have told him. “Your mother said it is mainly a nighttime problem, but you had a few accidents during the day.” “Yes.” “Does it burn when you pee?” “No.” “Well that doesn’t rule out a bladder infection, but I am going to run a test just to make sure.” He handed her a plastic cup and opened the door for her. He led her to a bathroom. “Just fill that up for me, please.” He shut the door leaving her alone. Bridget sat down and peed in the cup. When it was full she finished peeing in the toilet. She adjusted her clothing, washed her hands and carried the cup out to Dr. Ulman. He took the cup. Wait in the exam room while I check this for you. Bridget had no choice but to do what he said. Soon he came back. “I didn’t see any bacteria in the sample,” he said. “Are you waking up wet or waking up as you are wetting the bed.” “I wake up wet. I have a dream and then wake up wet,” she said. “Oh, the classic dream where you dream you are going to the bathroom? That is common.” He wrote something down. “Not exactly,” she said. “I have nightmares every night. Not really going-to-the-bathroom related.” “I see,” he said. “Do you know what is causing these nightmares?” “Yes,” said Bridget. No, he will ask me about it, she thought. “No, I mean. Just bad, scary stuff.” “Maybe I can refer you to a psychologist,” he said. Bridget shook her head vigorously, “No, no,” she said. “No shrinks.” A shrink would find out who she really was. Maybe they would execute her if they knew she had jumped bodies. She shivered. “It helps to talk things out. I think your problem is psychological. A psychologist could help. It’s probably just stress and he can give you ways to manage stress.” “Do you have pills you can give me to make me stop wetting the bed,” she said. “Yes, pills.” “There are pills,” he said and looked at her chart, “but you are allergic to one of the ingredients. Maybe when the summer starts you’ll see a reprieve from the bed wetting. Until then, wear protection. I still recommend you talk to a psychologist though. We’ll still run a few more tests.” It took another hour of being poked and prodded before the doctor was satisfied. Bridget walked out off the office feeling upset. She hoped the doctor could find a medical reason she was wetting the bed. He probably suspected the root of the problem when she mentioned the bad dreams. “I’m done,” she said to her mother. As Dr. Ulman and her mother talked for a little while, Bridget felt her face burn with embarrassment. When her mother said the words bed wetting or accidents, she felt like everyone in the waiting room was staring at her. It was probably just her imagination, but it sure felt like it. Finally they finished and Bridget rushed her mother to the car. “That was certainly embarrassing,” said Bridget. “Well, at least you know what you need to do,” said her mother. “Dr. Ulman gave me the name of a psychologist. I can make an appointment. Do you want me to do that Angela?” “No.” Bridget remembered the psychologist she talked to after being arrested. He showed her stupid ink blots and expected her to tell them what she thought they looked like. They all looked like explosions to her, but she answered, “a pretty butterfly,” or something equally tame. At the time her attorneys were trying to get her off on an insanity plea, but she thought her only way to get the terrorist caught was to tell her story at trial. She’d been wrong. “I’m not talking to a psychologist.” “Would you rather talk to a psychologist or wear diapers to bed?” asked her mother. Bridget thought for a second. “Diapers. I know that seems silly, but I can’t talk to a psychologist. I just can’t.” “Okay, Angela,” said her mother. “Let’s just get something to eat. We’ll talk about this later.” ### They had Burger King for lunch. Bridget bought the biggest Angus burger they had. It felt good to eat real food instead of cafeteria slop. While they were eating, Bridget watched as protesters gathered outside. They had signs that read “Murder King” and “Meat is murder.” “What are those bozos up to?” asked a guy at the next table. “Oh those are those PETA crazies. They protest a different fast food restaurant every week,” he said. “I belong to the other PETA: People for the Eating of Tasty Animals.” He took a bite of his burger. As Bridget finished her burger, she scanned the protesters outside. There were just five of them. They held signs as people drove by and gave them the finger. One of the guys looked like the terrorist’s friend from the movie theater. Suddenly, she had to go the bathroom urgently. She pushed her chair back from the table and walked swiftly to the bathroom with her hand in her crotch. She took the first stall, pulled down her pants and peed. “That was close.” She felt the crotch of her pull-up. Thankfully it was still dry. She ate the rest of her food without saying anything. When she took the last bite, she said. “Let’s go. Please.” Her mother followed her to the car and they got in. “Did you have an accident?” “No, I made it.” She pointed toward where the protesters were. “Let’s avoid those guys,” she said. They knew the terrorist too. She didn’t share her thoughts with her mother. Even if she could somehow get past the body snatching aspect of her weird week she had been in Angela’s body, surely people would think she was schizophrenic if she was so paranoid she had wetting accidents when she spotted the terrorist or his compatriots. “I’ll drop you back at school. You should be able to get there in time for Spanish class.” “Sounds good,” said Bridget. Burger King and the PETA protesters were behind her and now out of her mind by the time her mother dropped her off at school. She got out of the car and went straight to Spanish class. She was still a little early, but most of her other classmates were there. David Krouse was laughing and joking with his friends. Julia Grass and Evan Fiscus were attached at the hip as usual. However, she couldn’t find Lia anywhere. She turned to David. “Where’s Lia?” she asked. He stopped laughing and his smile faded. “Um, she...” “She was supposed to tell me what I missed when I was at my doctor’s appointment.” Julia came over. “Yeah, I got your stuff.” She handed me the assignments that Lia had written down for me. “Her mother came and pulled her out of class this morning. Her father was hurt really bad at work.” “He’s a lumberjack,” said David. “Some idiot environmentalist spiked a bunch of trees and when he cut one of them down, it broke his chainsaw.” “No,” said Bridget. She put her bag down on her desk and sat down before her knees weakened and she fell down. This was her fault. The terrorist or one of his friends had to have done this because Bridget couldn’t convince anyone the terrorist was still at large. She had a whole week to warn everyone, but she had said nothing. “Will he be all right?” “They say it doesn’t look good,” said Evan. “He’s probably not going to make it. That’s why Lia’s mother pulled her out of school.” The bell rang and Senorita Faust called the class to order. “I know we’re all worried about Lia’s father, but we got conversations to get through. I’ll get a card for Lia that we all can sign tomorrow.” Bridget was glad Lia and her had already done their conversation. Lia would have been a mess and Bridget had barely known what she was doing. Bridget could even concentrate on listening to the other conversations. She just dreamed of all the things she could do to that evil, evil terrorist. She had been idle far too long. Study hall was no different. She could barely concentrate to do her homework but she managed to get through pre-calculus and physics. Nothing was left but reading on the Scarlet Letter, and Bridget just wasn’t up to it. She frowned and looked at the clock. There were five more minutes. She packed her bags and the study hall teacher glared at her. Mrs. Simkins was one of those teachers that hated when students packed their bags before the final bell rung. Finally, class ended and Bridget left to go home. As she was switching books around in her locker, the kid with the locker next to her said, “Hurry up, accident girl.” “Give it a rest for a few days, please,” said Julia Grass. “She’s Lia’s best friend. You heard what happened to Lia’s dad.” “Thanks,” said Bridget. “No problem,” said Julia. “When Lia comes back, though, it is back to normal.” “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Bridget. She hurried to catch her bus. When she got on the bus, it felt like a different place. No one yelled, “Pee girl,” as she boarded and people told her to wish Lia’s father to get well. It was funny riding the bus alone without Lia beside her like she did all that week. ### After supper, Bridget called Lia. “Hi. It’s Angela.” All she heard on the phone was sobs. “You want me to come over? Where are you?” The phone just hung up. Lia was really upset and probably didn’t want to talk to anyone. She would call Bridget back when she wanted to talk. A minute later Bridget’s phone rang out the tone that said she received a text message. “Can’t talk. Yes. Come over. I am at home.” Bridget went down stairs. “Mother, can I use the car. I need to go over to Lia’s” “Are you sure she is home and she wants you over?” “Yeah, she texted.” “Okay.” She handed Bridget the keys. Bridget wasted no time getting to Lia’s place. When she got there, there were cars and dirt-caked pick-up trucks parked up and down the street. She had to park around the block. Bridget walked to the door and rung the doorbell. Lia’s mother answered. She wore black and she looked much older than when Bridget had seen her earlier in the week. “I’m here to see Lia,” she said. “She’s in her room.” She led Bridget through a living room full of lumberjacks and their wives. Finally she got to Lia’s room and went inside. Lia knelt at her bed and she was still sobbing. She turned around and Bridget could see her red and puffy eyes. “Do you want Angela here with you, Lia?” asked Lia’s mother. Lia nodded. Bridget walked over and sat beside her friend and put an arm around her. “I’m here Lia. We’re best friends.” “Angela, my daddy died,” said Lia through sobs. She buried face into Bridget’s shoulder and wailed. Bridget swore in her heart that she would make the terrorist pay for this. If the terrorist was not responsible for spiking the trees that killed Lia’s dad, he probably knew them and she would make both killers regret they ever heard the name Bridget Addison. She was out for blood. She squeezed Lia gently in her arms and patted her softly on her back as she cried. It was late Saturday morning and tonight was the day of the senior prom. Bridget sat with Lia in her room trying to cheer her up. “Daddy looked forward to seeing me off on my prom date. I should call James and tell him I’m not going,” said Lia. “It won’t be right.” “You’re going and that is final,” said Bridget. She put her arm around Lia. “Besides, your dad would want you to go to prom.” “I suppose,” said Lia, “but you have to come to too.” “I don’t have a date,” said Bridget. No had wanted to go with her to prom because of the very public accident she had. Since Lia’s father had died only a few days before, the other students stopped teasing Bridget since she was Lia’s best friend, but Evan Fiscus was still taking Julia Grass instead of her. “That’s just an excuse,” said Lia. “It’s not. The prom committee made a rule that everyone has to have a date.” Bridget didn’t really want to go. Still it would pass the time before she could find Flower and have her lead her to the terrorist. Still that would not happen until then end of August. It was still the middle of May. There was one more week of regular classes and then finals week. School was almost over. “I’ll get you a date then.” Lia ran out of her room and into her bathroom and slammed the door. Bridget spent the time laying out Lia’s dress and other accessories on her bed. She had been trying since Evan left her to set Bridget up with a date, but even David Krouse refused. Lia had picked out a nice dress. It was not as dowdy as she expected a dress for Lia to be, but it also would not look like a satin feed sack strapped around her like a towel. She even had a little matching purse. “Okay,” said Lia, as she came out of the bathroom, “I got you a date.” “With whom,” she asked. “If it’s anyone from school with a bucket of pig’s blood, they’ll rue the day they messed with me.” “Pig’s blood?” asked Lia, “You suddenly got a whole lot of knowledge about geeky literature Miss Romance Junkie.” Bridget worried that she gave herself away again. Quickly she covered: “Well I thought Carrie was a romantic comedy. It didn’t end how I thought it would end.” “Well, anyway my dad’s boss said he would do anything for me. To make a long story short, his son just got home from college and he is taking you to prom.” “No,” said Bridget. “I don’t have a dress; I don’t have my hair done; and I don’t have anything to wear. Prom is tonight. Besides, I am worried about embarrassing myself.” “Yeah, we better get to the mall,” said Lia. She grabbed Bridget’s hand and dragged her out to the car. ### “I told you it’s too late to get a dress.” The clothes racks in the prom dress sections were sparse. The sales girl was busy consolidating the remaining dresses to a single rack. “I need a prom dress,” Bridget told the sales girl. “What size are you?” “Um, three, I think.” “I think that dress and that dress are both threes.” She pointed out a hideous green and yellow dress and a very lovely pink dress. “I’ll try on the pink one,” said Bridget as Lia lifted it up by its hanger. Lia twirled it around and smiled. “I told you we’d find a dress for you.” She looked at the dress and frowned. She held the dress to the sales girl. “This one has a big blue stain.” Sure enough, a blotchy ink spot covered the bottom of the dress. “Oh crap, the ink tag must have broken.” The sales girl took the dress and took it to the back room. “Now what do we do?” asked Bridget. She pointed at the ugly green and yellow dress. “You can get that one.” “Absolutely not,” said Bridget. “I am not wearing that ugly dress no matter what.” Lia pulled out her cell phone. “I guess I better call James and cancel.” She grabbed the phone away from Lia. “Fine, I’ll wear the dress.” She picked the dress up by its hanger and carried it into the dressing room. As she undressed, she called out to Lia. “You owe me for this.” She kicked off her shirt and pants and pulled on the dress. When she slithered in to the silky dress and looked in the mirror. She stuck out her tongue at her reflection in the mirror. “You had to fit perfectly, didn’t you, ugly dress?” She heard rattling at the door. “Do you have it on yet? Does it fit?” With reluctance, she opened the door and spun around for Lia. The sales girl got a weird look on her face when she glanced at them and Lia spun her back. “Your diaper is showing.” Lia walked around her and zipped up the dress. Bridget felt her cheeks pinken. “It’s not a diaper; it’s a pull-up,” she hissed. “Well, it’s covered now,” said her friend. “Fine,” said Bridget. “Unzip me so I can get dressed and go home.” “Does the dress fit?” “Yes, now unzip me,” said Bridget. As soon as Lia unzipped the dress, Bridget shut herself in the dressing room and took off the cursed garment. She pulled on her jeans and T-shirt and hung up her ugly dress. “I’ll take this one,” said Bridget to the sales girl. The sales girl blushed and didn’t look at Bridget during the entire time she rung the sale. Bridget could hardly wait to get away. When the transaction was finished, Bridget took her new dress and walked out of the store without waiting for Lia. When Lia caught up, she said, “If I have anymore incidents to send to Seventeen’s Tragic Proms, I Angela Murphy will hold you personally responsible.” Lia just laughed. “Don’t be so traumatic, Angela.” ### Bridget looked at her nails and sighed. The polish matched her dress, but it was the ugliest shade of green and yellow she had ever seen. “I look like a freaking dandelion,” she said. “And I really thank you for doing this for me, especially since your outfit didn’t work out,” said Lia. Her gorgeous red dress made her look almost heavenly. Bridget tried not to be too angry since she knew Lia had never got to be the hot friend with Angela around. Going to prom dressed in the outfit she was wearing would only be a little embarrassing. Every dress at her previous high school’s prom had to have been as hilarious as looking at her mother’s prom pictures had been to her. Who knew? Maybe the garish dress she was force to wear would look styling when she went back to look at it in the future while everyone else would look foolish. At least her hair was coiffed professionally. Lia looked beautiful and she hoped prom would be perfect for her. That was the only reason she had gone along with being dressed like a lawn pest. “Do I look okay,” asked Lia. “You look lovely,” Bridget said. “You look really good too,” said Lia, “and don’t worry your pull-up isn’t showing since you are zipped up.” “No mention of that when our dates get here.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the doorbell rang. “Ooh, someone’s here,” said Lia and walked to the door. She opened it and a man stood at the door. He dressed sharp, his brown hair was short and trim, and he was broad at the shoulder. He held a wrist corsage in his hand and he smiled. His tuxedo might have been a little tight and he had a light line that scarred his tanned face, but he was almost like a god. “I hope you are not James,” said Bridget. “I’m Derek Stevens,” he said. “You must be Angela.” “Of course it’s Derek,” said Lia. “You know who James is.” “I got you a corsage.” He held up a box. “I didn’t know what color dress you would wear, so I got red.” He looked at her dress and just shook his head. Bridget held out her hand as Derek slipped the corsage on her wrist. “Thank you and sorry about the dress. I bought it today. There is a reason why most girls don’t buy prom dresses at the last minute.” “I didn’t mean to imply--,“ he started. “I just hope you don’t mind how horrible I look,” Bridget said. “Stop gabbing and stand over there for pictures,” said Lia. She had her digital camera out and took pictures of the two of them. “Now hold each other tight.” Bridget felt chills go through her as she stared up at Derek Steven’s eyes as he held her for the picture. It was all she could do to contain her disappointment when he let go of her when the picture was taken. She felt glad for the protection of her pull-up as she was sure she felt slightly damp with the excitement of the embrace. You can’t be acting like a horny little school girl, she thought. The doorbell rang again. “That must be James,” said Lia and opened the door. Bridget recognized him from school. He wore glasses and was in their physics and pre-calculus class. She supposed she recalled Lia speaking to him at some point, but she didn’t think they were dating. “Your limo awaits, my dear,” he said to Lia and held out his hand for her to take it. “Oh cool, you rented a limo!” said Lia. “Not exactly,” said James. He led them out to a big black Ford Crown Victoria. “My dad got it for me at auction. They had about four or five they auctioned off. They used to be owned by the Feds.” He opened the door to let Bridget and Derek into the back seat and then opened the front door to let Lia in the front. “It looks like the inside of a cop car,” said Derek. He pointed to the metal divider between the front and back seat. “Sorry, I just got it today,” said James. “That can come off I think.” Bridget put her finger on some holes near the side window. “At least they took the bars off the back window,” she said. “Unto prom,” said Lia as the car began to move forward. “Yeah, unto prom,” said Bridget. She promised herself she would have a good time no matter what. ### James parked the car at the school and walked around to open the door for Lia. Bridget looked over at Derek. “Aren’t you going to go around and open the door for me?” He pulled on the door handle. “It won’t open.” Bridget tried to open her door and it was stuck as well. She tapped on the glass. James opened the door for Lia fine, and opened it for Derek. He flipped a switch on the inside of the door. “Oops, it has cop car doors.” At least they wouldn’t be stuck in the back seat of the car on prom night. The four of them walked into the gym together. The prom committee had decorated the place with crepe paper streamers and a flower-covered arch at the entrance to the gym. The photographer was set up in front of the arch, so there was a bit of a bottleneck getting into the gym. Confetti covered tables were placed beneath the basketball hoops and the center of the gym was the dance floor. Bridget blushed when she looked up on the stage and saw that one of the band members from the live rock band waved at her. “Is that your father’s band?” asked James. It was her father’s band. A girl’s father at prom was the dream of every high school kid, wasn’t it? Only if that dream was a nightmare. “I’m love prom so much,” said Bridget to Lia using her sarcastic voice. “Everything is working out perfectly.” “I wouldn’t mind having my father at prom, Angela,” Lia whispered. Bridget decided to change the subject before Lia’s makeup ran. “Let’s grab a spot at one of the table and sit down.” She looked over to their dates. “James, would you and Derek get us some punch?” Lia and Bridget went and sat down at the table and watched everyone dance. “Look,” said Lia, “there is Evan Fiscus and Julia Grass.” Julia hung on Evan’s arm as they walked across the dance floor. “It looks like she had to do last minute dress shopping too.” Julia wore the exact same dress as Bridget. It looked just as hideous on her as Bridget thought it looked on herself. “Now they’re coming over,” said Bridget. She hoped she would keep her promise to be nice. “Hi, Lia,” Julia said. “I’m so sorry about your father.” Julia took Lia’s hand in both of hers. “I’m glad you could still make it to prom.” Lia looked confused about Julia’s behavior. “She’s been really nice since Tuesday,” said Bridget. “Thank you,” said Lia. “Oh, Angela,” said Julia through a big fake smile. “I’m so mad at you. You stole my dress. I searched for weeks to find a dress that was unique and made me look beautiful.” “I’m sorry,” said Bridget, “I got it last minute and it and another dress with a big ink stain were my only choices.” She took some satisfaction in saying in not so many words that it was the last dress she would even want to be seen dead in. “I wasn’t going to go to prom, but Lia wanted me to, so I am here.” Julia gave no indication that she was insulted by Bridget’s comment. “You’ll have to introduce me to your date. I didn’t know you had gotten another one.” “It’s a friend of Lia’s from outside school,” Bridget said. “My dad’s boss’s son,” said Lia. “Well I can’t wait to meet him,” said Julia. “I bet she does,” whispered Lia. The band began to play a slow dance song and Evan must have sensed things were going to get out of hand between Julia and Bridget. “Julia, let’s dance.” He dragged her off to the dance floor. “Well that wasn’t awkward at all. Thank you for coming. I know you don’t like to dance and you would have to see Evan and Julia together. Thanks for putting up with it all,” said Lia. She pointed to the guys. “At least our dates are back.” “Here are your drinks,” said James. Derek and James handed them each a glass of punch and sat at the table beside them. “So do you think Julia got the most votes for prom queen, or do you think it is Marcy Phillips?” “I’m hoping Marcy. Even though Julia was being nice the past few days, she still is a ho,” said Lia. “Which one is Julia?” asked Derek. “That girl there,” said Bridget as she pointed at Julia, “the girl in the hideous green and yellow dress.” “Pot. Kettle. Black,” said James. “I think you look rather nice in that dress,” said Derek. “Then you have as good of tastes as Julia,” said Bridget. She giggled and put an arm around Derek. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” “How about we dance?” Derek suggested when the song changed to a Latin number. “You do know Salsa, I hope?” “Of course I do,” said Bridget. She looked over to Lia who was waving her hands in the negative and mouthing, “No.” “She’s going to embarrass herself,” Lia said to James. “More than before?” Bridget barely heard them. She got on the dance floor and put her right hand on his shoulder. He took her left hand in his and they began to dance. “I’m a little rusty,” she muttered. She had last danced with a man about a year before her incarceration. In prison there was no longer anyone to dance with so she hoped she did okay. Let’s see, she thought, right foot back, left foot up and down, right foot forward, left foot forward, right foot up and down, and left foot back. She hadn’t lost her touch at all. He knew a lot of turns and he changed them randomly as they danced. She spun as he turned her and before she knew it, she was laughing and smiling as they danced. A few more songs later and she was hot and sweaty. Bridget was glad for the thin layer of baby powder between the fabric of her dress and her skin. She didn’t have to smell like an ox. The song changed to a slower rhythm and she let him lead her back and forth across the dance floor. There wasn’t as many turns to this song, but she still followed his lead. At the end of the last song Derek laid her back in a dip. The music was so sensual she thought that he was going to kiss her. She looked at his lips and parted her own, ready to let him ravage her lips, but he just stood her up again and escorted her back to their table. “When did you learn salsa, Angela?” asked Lia. “I’ve never seen you dancing to anything but hip hop.” “The last song was bachata anyway,” said Bridget. At least her relationship with Edwardo Lozano for a few months back in college taught her something: Latin dance and running from Consuela Lozano. That bastard never told her he was married. “Besides, the guy does everything. All I have to do is move my feet and follow.” She smiled. “Where is Angela Murphy and what did you do to her,” said Lia. Bridget quit smiling. She had been tormenting her just a little, but she didn’t think she gave herself away. “What do you thing I read about in all those romance novels?” asked Bridget. “I’ll tell you: hot Latin lovers.” Lia laughed. “James, aren’t you going to ask Lia to dance?” Bridget asked. “Don’t go there, Angela. I can’t do all that stuff,” said James. “When there is hip-hop or slow dancing I can do that.” The band started to play Soulja Boy and James pulled Lia onto the dance floor. “You want to dance to this?” asked Derek. “Not a chance,” said Bridget. “I like you, but I am not doing that.” She pointed at Lia and James trying to jump as if they had a Superman cape when the part of the song that went, “then Superman da oh.” “Point taken,” said Derek. He looked over at Bridget. “You know you seem a lot more grown up then I imagined when Dad said I would be taking a high school girl to prom. I didn’t expect I would be wiping noses and changing diapers, but I thought there would be a lot more, ‘OMFG, LOL,’ type talk.” Bridget felt her cheeks burn at the mention of him changing diapers, and she hoped he didn’t expect she was really wearing diapers when he saw her face turn pink. “When did you graduate?” asked Bridget. “I assumed you would be a freshman or a sophomore in college.” “I got one more semester and then I’ll graduate in December.” He smiled. “I don’t really relish another winter in Massachusetts, but it will be a light load.” “Wow, I’m really a step down for you,” she said. “Is that Massachusetts as in MIT?” “Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to be an engineer and build things. I don’t want to be a hewer of wood and a drawer of water.” He frowned. “Lately Dad’s been wanting to give up running a lumber company. Too much looking over his shoulder for crazies like the people who set that trap for Lia’s dad.” “They affect my life too. Saw some protesting outside Burger King the other day,” said Bridget. She recalled seeing the protestor with Flower and the terrorist at the movies when she saw Star Trek. “Well there is a difference between peaceful protesters and the people that leave nails in trees to maim or kill lumberjacks.” “They are the same people or at least they hang out together,” Bridget yelled. “If you think the Meat is Murder crowd is any different from those tree spiking murderers, you are wrong.” Other students were staring at her. The song had just ended so they only heard her say the last three words, but she had drawn attention to herself. She shut up. Lia and James walked back since they were playing another Latin song. “I’m sorry, I was just upset because I love Lia,” Bridget told him. “Here you were thinking I was so mature and I had an outburst like that.” “I know how you feel,” said Derek and patted her on the back like she was a child. “Arguing with Derek, Angela?” said Lia. “Shame, shame.” She ran her finger along her other index finger as the gesture for shame. “We had a little disagreement,” said Derek. “We made up.” “Prove it,” said James. “Take her back out on the dance floor.” Bridget stood up and took his hands in hers. “Yes. Prove it.” He took her out on the dance floor for a little more dancing. Bridget stumbled a few times as she thought of the terrorist’s friend at the Burger King. She decided to concentrate on dancing so she could enjoy herself and let Derek spin her until she was dizzy on the next meringue song. ### “I got to go to the bathroom,” said Lia. “Come with me.” She dragged Bridget out of the gym and out into the hall toward the bathrooms. Bridget went in a stall and pulled down her pull-up and sat down to pee. “So I think I’m going to give up my virginity to James tonight,” said Lia from the next stall.” “Did you tell James you would do this?” asked Bridget. She didn’t think they were really that close. “Not yet,” said Lia. Bridget heard her start to pee. Bridget did the same. She hadn’t needed her pull-up after all, but she was not taking chances. The only wetness in her pull-up was from sweating so much. Dancing is sweaty work, dancing in a diaper, even if it is a cloth-backed pull-up is even sweatier. It wasn’t pee, so she pulled it back up. “So do you love him?” asked Bridget. “No,” said Lia, “but it’s prom. Everyone loses their virginity at prom.” “I would wait. What if James gets you pregnant or gives you a disease? I would hold out for a college boy.” Bridget sighed at the thought of letting Derek take her to bed. “You have seen Derek, right?” “Thanks, Angela,” said Lia, “you’re pretty smart. I guess I don’t want to end up a ho like Julia Grass.” “I don’t think she is losing her virginity at prom,” said Bridget. “That ship has sailed.” “Yeah, freshman year.” ### They got back from the bathroom just in time for the class awards. The class president got up on the stage and pulled out a clipboard. “Hey everyone, this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, when we give the results for those who done the most to be remembered in this class.” The class vice president handed him a stack of envelopes. He pulled out the first envelope. “We have a boy and a girl for each category. When I call your name come up and stand by your counterpart for the class favorites dance.” He opened the first envelope. “Prom King is Evan Fiscus.” Evan walked up, took the plaque that was handed to him and walked down to stand in the middle of the dance floor. The class president took another envelope. “Prom Queen is Marcy Phillips.” Marcy squealed like a stuck pig and took her plaque and ran down to the dance floor and threw herself in Evan Fiscus’s arms. She gave Julia Glass a dirty look. “Now our Most Likely to Succeed students: the boy is James Duane and the girl is Lia Jones. Both of them did nothing but study, and you know how successful people like that become.” Bridget clapped as Lia and James went up to collect their awards. As Lia left the stage after getting her plaque she stuck out her tongue at the valedictorian Cindy Ericson who had thought she would be Most Likely to Succeed. “Now our high school is like many others where students try to impress one another with their clothes. Why do they do that? Because they know they will be awarded with the Best Dressed award. Daniel Crawford and Jana Smit come up to accept your award.” The two student ran up to the stage. Daniel Crawford, not only had a smart tux on, but the tux had tails. He also carried a top hat and a walking stick. Jana Smith wore a Renaissance-style dress. Her honey-brown hair cascaded down her back like loosely wound golden springs. Bridge thought she deserved the award. “Now we have our final award: the Most Embarrassing Incident.” Bridget froze. A few students glanced in her direction, but she thought they wouldn’t be that mean to bring up the accident that happened just before she became Angela Murphy. She hoped not. “This award goes to Darren Farling for his performance on the field at the homecoming game. Darren scored every single touchdown in the entire game. Of the five touchdowns he scored, only three of them were for East High. That my friends is embarrassing.” As Darren sheepishly stepped up to receive his award, all eyes went to Bridget. “Usually we tell the embarrassing story that is cause for this award, but everyone knows why you are getting this prize. Angela Murphy come up and get your plaque. Don’t hide or we will tell the story.” Bridget walked up and took the plaque out of the class president’s hand. He gave her a hug. “Thanks for being such a great sport,” he whispered. Bridget walked down the stairs to stand with Darren Farling. “Don’t pee on me, Accident Girl,” said Darren as he put his hand around her back to slow dance with her. The music started and Bridget began to follow his lead. “If I didn’t care about embarrassing my date, I would,” Bridget said. “I think he would be embarrassed to even be here with you,” Darren said. He turned her hard, almost making her lose her step. Bridget just glared at him. It felt like the song was going on forever. Would the humiliation ever end? As soon as the dance was over she returned to her table were Derek was sitting. “So, what was this embarrassing story they were talking about?” “I’m sorry,” she sniffled and thought about how grossed out he would be if he knew she still had accidents. “Everyone was too embarrassed to go to prom with the girl that had that embarrassing incident,” she explained. “If I tell you, you won’t like me anymore.” “Okay,” said Derek. “I guess it must be pretty traumatic if you feel that way. I won’t pry.” Bridget took a Kleenex and dabbed her eyes, careful not to wipe away her makeup. “My makeup’s not too smeared, I hope.” “It’s fine,” he said. The band started to play another slow song. It was Elvis. “Want to dance?” “Yes,” she said, “but only fools rush in.” “I can’t help it,” he said as he led Bridget to the dance floor. He held her close and they slowly danced. The song was so soft and Elvis’s voice just made her want to be closer to Derek. She couldn’t help it and threw both arms around his neck, squeezing her body against Derek’s on the dance floor. His hands lowered themselves to the small of her back, but it didn’t go any lower. Derek was too much of a gentleman. Bridget had counseled Lia to not give up her virginity to James tonight, but just like Elvis, she couldn’t help falling in love with Derek. If he asked her, she would let him have sex with her. She thought of the pull-up under her dress and how she would hide it when she let Derek undress her. It somewhat took her out of the mood, but the song had ended and the music had stopped. The class president got back on the stage and said, “I want to thank the prom committee and senior class of 2009 for an excellent prom. Drive home safely everyone and thank you for making the class of 2009 the best. Derek walked her back to the table where she retrieved her purse. “Wow Angela,” said Lia, “I couldn’t dance that sensual with my dad on stage.” She held her hands over her eyes and turned around. Bridget was torn between looking up at the stage for her father and comforting her friend. She chose the stage. The lights obscured the band from seeing what was happening on the dance floor, so she felt safe. She noticed Derek was looking up at the stage as well. She turned and put an arm around Lia. “I’m sorry,” Lia said. Her mascara was running. Bridget took a Kleenex from her purse and wiped away her tears. “I’ve ruined my makeup.” “It lasted through most of prom,” said Bridget. “Let’s just smile for another half hour and well be home and we can stop pretending to have fun.” “Oh, I did have fun, Angela,” she said. “I just know my daddy’s not going to be at home worrying about me that makes sad.” She started to walk out with Derek and James. “I’ll admit I had fun too,” said Bridget. “Angela, we forgot our plaques!” Bridget and the guys waited as Lia ran back to the table and retrieved the awards. She handed Bridget her plaque. “We don’t want to lose these.” “You do remember how I won this, don’t you?” “Oh,” Lia said. She looked a bit embarrassed. “Thank you for going to prom with me, Lia” James said. “And thank you for taking me,” Lia replied. The group walked back to James’s car and they all piled in. As James started the car, Bridget held up a hand and said, “Home James, and don’t spare the horses.” Tonight certainly hadn’t been ruined for her. It had been embarrassing at times, but she was glad she came even if she held a plaque in her hands that she earned by pooping and peeing her pants. The only thing she would really regret about this night was not sleeping with Derek. Bridget woke in a wet diaper. She thought that with school over and the ability to relax, she would wake up dry, but she had another bad dream. Lia’s father had starred in last night’s nightmare. She couldn’t get the image of a chainsaw chain catching on a spike and breaking. The news had done a special on eco-terrorists and then showed video of what a chainsaw would do to a mannequin. She could still see the plastic being torn apart and imagined that happening to a person. Bridget ripped her diaper off angrily and threw it into her waste basket. If only she could find Flower again. She only had the malnourished hippie’s word that she was going to Washington State University. It was a big campus and she hoped she could track the girl down. She still did not know how she would be able to interrogate the girl, but she would find a way. Until she could get to college, she would have to make do with her new mom and dad. She walked into the bathroom and took a shower. The water ran down her back and she turned and let the spray soft massage her shoulders and run down her breasts in sudsy rivulets. She scrubbed her skin and paid special attention to her diaper area. In prison, she had taken her showers before bed, but with the bedwetting she had no choice, but to take them in the morning. Since school had ended, she still got up and took her shower because she didn’t want to run around the house in a wet diaper. She stepped out of the shower and dried off. She smiled at the fact that the students who hadn’t got an A for the semester in a given class were probably sitting in school taking their final. Bridget felt a bit of cruel satisfaction that Julia Grass had to take all six of her finals while Bridget had the last few days off. She had planned to do something great today if only to tell Julia what she was doing while Evan’s ho was taking an English final. She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a covered wagon that said You Have Died of Dysentery. She thought it was cute when she saw it online and bought it with her mother’s credit card after her doctor’s visit hadn’t gone as planned. She knew none of her high school friends would get the joke but she didn’t care. She had played the game when it first came out and she had thought it was pretty advanced at the time. She came down the stairs and found strange people sitting in the living room. “Hi Angela,” the lady said. “We came in late last night to see your graduation.” The older man sitting next to her smiled. “I knew you would get pretty good marks. Your mother said you were number four in your class. Pretty good in a class of three hundred and twenty. I was number three in my class but we only had four students.” Bridget’s mother walked in. “Do you want decaf or regular coffee?” She looked at Bridget. “Oh, you’re up. Don’t just stand there. Say hello to your grandpa and grandma.” “Hello,” Bridget said. She sat in the chair next to the couch where they were sitting. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to make polite conversation. It was more of Angela’s friends and family to fool. She longed for college to start so she could be herself and stop pretending to be Angela except in name only. “What time do we need to be at your graduation ceremony?” asked Grandpa. “It starts at 5:30, so I would get there by five,” said Bridget. “I think I have to be there even earlier for rehearsal.” She dreaded the rehearsal because Julia had texted last night that there truce was over and it was fair game to tease her again. Bridget had opted out of signing up to go to the party after the graduation ceremony because she knew Julia would resume the teasing. “Tell Grandma and Grandpa where you will be going for college,” her mother said. “WSU,” said Bridget. “I’m majoring in double E.” “I thought you were going into teaching,” said Grandma. “That’s what you told me when you visited during spring break.” According to her grades, Angela was so smart; yet Bridget was not going into teaching. Not that she wanted to knock teaching. Bridget had the benefit of two years in electrical engineering before she gave up school due to money issues. Oh course she chose engineering. “I just changed my mind,” Bridget answered. “I know it will take a lot more math classes, but I did well in math.” “What ever you do, Angela,” said her Grandmother, “you will do well.” “Thank you.” “Breakfast is ready,” said Bridget’s mother. Her mother outdid herself with bacon, omelets, and pancakes. Bridget smiled as she took her place at the table. She sat between her grandparents and enjoyed her dinner. When dinner ended her mother cleared the table and her father stood by the back door. “Since Angela is graduating she is almost all grown up,” her father said. “I love you Angela and I got you a gift to start out your adult life. Come on. It’s in the garage.” He led her, her mother, and her grandparents to the garage and opened the garage door. Inside was a black car. It was exactly like James’ car, but it looked a lot nicer. The paint was shiny black, not scarred and rust trimmed like the ride she rode to prom. “It’s a 1984 Ford Crown Victoria Police. It was the nicest one.” Her father put his hand on the hood. “There is not a spot of rust on this one.” He opened the hood and Bridget gazed at the engine that looked like it barely fit in the car. “A 5.8 liter engine and a Variable Venturi carburetor.” The car was well taken care of. Bridget opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat. She looked into the back seat, expecting to see the metal barrier dividing front and back seats, but it wasn’t there. In fact, she couldn’t tell from the inside that it had even been a cop car. She stood up and gave her dad a hug. “Thank you.” “Now it uses quite a bit of gas,” he said, “but it has power.” “I love it,” said Bridget. “And I love you and want you to be safe.” He walked around to the passenger side and sat down. “Let’s go test this out. Get in.” “Yes sir.” She sat back down in the driver’s seat and her dad handed her the keys. “We’ll be back in about an hour,” he said to her mother and grandparents. Bridget started the car and smiled as the engine roared to life. “It purrs like a kitten,” her father said. Bridget put the car into gear and stomped on the gas. “Only if the kitten is a lion,” she said as the car squealed out of the garage and onto the street. She slowed down to the speed limited and drove normally. When she got to the highway her dad had her go I-90 east. After about twenty minutes they crossed into Montana. “Open it up,” her dad encouraged her. Bridget stomped the gas and soon had the car going ninety. At one stretch of road she got it up to one hundred, but she didn’t dare get it faster. She slowed down to seventy-five and turned the car around. “It’s supposed to get up to 130, but you’ll never find anywhere straight enough. Let’s go home before your mother worries.” Bridget drove the rest of the way home at seventy-five and drove home smiling. She would have fun with this car. She just knew it. ### “Wow,” said Lia. “It’s just like James’s car, only it looks like someone took care of it. Oh, and it is not so police inside.” It was true. Bridget’s dad had removed all trace of there being a cage in the back. He even filled the holes where the bars had been screwed. “Well, are you ready to do this?” Bridget asked as she adjusted her graduation cap and honors stole. “Yes. I just wish our school colors were not orange and blue,” said Angela as she adjusted the blue tassel over her orange cap. “I know what you mean,” said Bridget. “Well we better hurry. If we are late for rehearsal they might not let us walk the stage.” Bridget drove to school and parked her car in the parking lot next to James’s similar car. There was a marked difference in quality although James had removed the divider in between the front and back seats. Still it was not as shiny or as nice as Bridget’s. She didn’t dwell on that too long. She went into the gym and started rehearsing for the ceremony. Bridget had some relief that Julia Grass wasn’t there. She was only a junior, so she had a whole other year before she could graduate. She was probably right about Evan finding a new girlfriend in college. Still he could also be a jerk too. He proved it when they were giving a break. “So, Angela,” he said, “I’m lucky I come before you in the alphabet. I wouldn’t want to slip if you pee on the stage.” “Evan,” said Lia. She gave him a mean look. “Besides, I am in the top ten, so we go first,” said Bridget. “If I leave a trail, you can still trip.” She smiled with an evil grin. “Besides, no one here will see me again. What do I have to lose?” “That’s disgusting,” he said before walking away. “You do have a pull-up on, don’t you?” asked Lia with a whispered voice. “Nope,” she said. “I have on a full diaper. I am not taking any chances. Besides, I got this long gown to cover up with and underneath I have on a long dress so no one will know.” “You are enjoying this too much,” Lia said. “Only the part about making Evan uncomfortable.” “Alright everyone, take your seats and get ready for the ceremony.” ### The room got hot and the whole area where senior class sat was alight from the overhead lights. Bridget tried to look behind her for Lia, but couldn’t see. She gave up and looked up in the stands for her parents and grandparents. They were not around either. The announcer called the gym to order and Cindy Ericson got up and did her valedictorian speech. It was really good. At the close of her speech the teachers motioned the front row to stand up and walk to the stage. Cindy left the podium and took her place at the front of the line and the names were given as they walked the stage. “Cindy Ericson”, “James Duane”, “Peter Schuster”, and then finally they called her name: “Angela Murphy.” She walked the stage, shook the principal’s hand, took her diploma, and stood beside Peter. When the first ten names were called the principal put yellow cords on the shoulders of the top ten students. Then they went and sat down as the other students names were called and they got their diplomas. Bridget smiled to herself. At least the high school portion of her new life was over. Three and a half weeks of high school was too much to relive, especially if the first day that time started with a stinky poop in her panties. At least she didn’t have to take finals. She sat and watched the rest of the students graduate and was glad the whole thing was over. Her next step was college. After the ceremony Grandma wanted to take them all out to eat so they went to have dinner. Grandma was happy about the dress that Bridget had chose. It was the dress she wore to church that first Sunday. They ate at a nice steakhouse. Bridget ordered the New York strip. It tasted much better than her last meal in prison had tasted. Tonight was great and she would be closer to her goal of finding the terrorist. Not here in the steakhouse: she doubted the terrorist would set foot in a steakhouse unless he were attacking it. She would be going to college and could get the terrorist through Flower. The evening ended and Bridget got undressed to go to bed. She had to put a new diaper on because she had to pee and the tapes tore the plastic of the diaper when she took it off to use the bathroom before bed. She went to sleep and her dreams were almost peaceful. She had the dream again, so that interrupted her sleep, and of course she had wet the bed in her sleep. She tried to be upset about it, but she had gotten used to waking up wet. She’d never like it, but it wasn’t too bad. Bridget put her packed bags in the trunk of her car and closed the lid. “All ready to go,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” asked her mother. “For freshman orientation you can have a parent with you.” She knew Flower might be there and wanted to get info on what she was up to. There was no way she could get time to lean on Flower with her mother there. “I need to do this on my own. I know there are things you can help me with and I have a cell phone if I need anything, but it’s time I do a few things by myself.” “Do you have enough supplies?” her mother asked. “You’ll be staying overnight for two nights.” “Mother.” She looked around to make sure no one heard, but it was only her mother and father there. She was embarrassed, but was sure her mother hadn’t mentioned the word “diaper.” “Well drive safe,” said her dad, “and try to keep it under one hundred.” Bridget smiled back at him. “I’ll try.” She hopped in her car and drove toward Pulman, Washington. At last she would be able to make some headway on her search to get the terrorist. Her lips curled in anticipation of how she would make the terrorist pay. During the few hour drive, she thought about different punishments she would give the terrorist. Maybe she would soak him in diesel fuel and light it, or maybe she would strap him down to a gurney and inject poison in his veins. Whatever she decided, she could only do one thing to him because she knew it would be fatal. When she got to her destination she parked where her orientation packet said to park. She parked beside a red Eclipse and got out to get her stuff. “Hi. I’m Ami Kent,” said the Asian girl getting out of the Eclipse. She dressed and talked like an American so Bridget guessed she wasn’t an international student. “Are you here for freshman orientation too?” Bridget asked. “Yeah,” said Ami. “Of course I am.” She pulled a large bag out of the passenger seat and smiled. “No parents and no boyfriends. Nothing will stop me now,” she said. Too hyper, thought Bridget, but she responded anyway. “Well I want to get settled in before everything starts,” said Bridget. “Good idea,” she said. “Let’s go in.” The dorm they would be staying in for the next few days was the Stephenson Complex. It was not by any mean luxurious and Bridget knew that. She didn’t care. She wanted to get in her dorm, find a place to hide her diapers, and get a little downtime before they rounded them up for orientation. “So why didn’t your parents come with you?” Bridget asked. “I mean mine didn’t come either, but I had reasons for wanting to be alone.” “My dad had a multimillion dollar business deal he had to deal with and my mother is too sick to come so I am here alone.” She shrugged. “I’ve been doing everything for myself anyway and Dad’s got money so I manage.” She looked at Bridget struggling with her bags. “So what’s your story?” “I just wanted to be alone,” said Bridget. “I love my parents, but they can be a little overbearing sometimes.” “I understand. Mother is overbearing when she isn’t pretending to be sick so Dad with pay attention to her.” They arrived at the door to the door and walked over to a table that was set up there. “Angela Murphy,” she said to the Resident Assistant looking over the list. “And Ami Kent.” She watched the girl struggle a bit and pointed at her name. “That’s A. M. I.” “You two can have 418,” said the RA. She handed them each a key and pointed to the stairs. ### “That was fun,” said Bridget as she pulled her stuff into the room and walked toward one of the beds. She worried for a second when she saw the plastic sheets, but both beds were equipped the same way so she knew they weren’t put there just for her. “Especially when that one guy asked us why we were taking the stairs after we already made it to the top.” Bridget opened a door in the corner of the room and looked inside. She expected a bathroom, but it was just a closet. It was a rather big closet, divided in two and it divided the dorm room into two branches of an L. It still did not afford much privacy, but it was more private than most dorms. “Where is the bathroom?” she asked. “I think it is down the hall?” said Ami. “Great,” said Bridget. “I’ll be right back.” She walked out the door and found the lady’s room. There were rows of showers, rows of toilets, and rows of sinks, which meant she would either find a way to change into her diapers quietly in her dormroom, or in the bathroom and then get to her dormroom without any noticeable crinkling. She did her business and returned to the room. It was only going to be two nights and Ami wouldn’t be her real freshman year roommate. “I’m settled in, I think,” said Ami. “Let’s go down stairs and mingle.” “Good idea,” Bridget agreed. She first took the time to make her bed first before going downstairs. If she had to get her diapers on in the room with Ami there, she wanted to do it under her covers. When they got downstairs, they ran into other freshmen in the dorms first floor lounge. Some were playing pool, others were sitting in comfortable chairs in front of a big screen TV. Still, others were chatting or flirting or other stuff. Since it was just orientation, most students had parents with them. Some looked at Bridget and Ami with a bit of jealousy. Theoretically, it was almost college, and it was hard to impress other students with parents present. That would change when classes started the last week of August. Still that was a month away. “Hey Angela,” said a voice called to her. Bridget turned to see Flower standing there. “It’s pretty cool that you decided to come to WSU.” “Yeah,” said Bridget, “I decided at the last minute. I’m surprised I could get my FAFSA done in time.” “Oh, I hate filling out forms,” said Flower. “So much paper going to waste. At least I could fill them out online and not hurt trees.” She wore a green t-shirt that showed a tree. It said, “Hug a tree.” “It probably burns more carbon to run your computer, than it takes to fill out a paper form,” said Ami. Flower got an angry look on her face for a moment, but then smiled. “Well, I see my uncle. I should probably sit with him.” She pointed in the direction of the chairs in front of the TV. Bridget looked and saw the terrorist sitting calmly watching a show on the discovery channel and froze. Hot pee warmed the insides of her pull-up and she couldn’t focus on anything else. She was peeing so long she thought she was going to leak. Finally it stopped and she looked down at the legs of her blue jeans. Still dry, but she wondered for how long. Her pull-up felt saturated. “Excuse me,” she told Ami. “I left something in the room.” She turned and hurried toward the elevator and up to the room. Finally, in the safety of the elevator she felt the back of her pant leg. It seemed to be a bit damp and she almost panicked and decided to drive home. However, the elevator was mirrored and she was able to see the back of her legs. They didn’t look wet. She half smiled and decided she could do this. Once in the room she stripped from the waist down and began to clean herself with some wipes. She got out a new pull-up and pulled it on. She was tempted to put on her night diaper and hide it under a skirt, but Ami and Flower might notice if she changed clothes. Instead, she pulled up the jeans she had been wearing over the pull-up. She felt some relief that she hadn’t leaked, but it had been close. Tomorrow she would wear her long skirt and Depends. She carried the wet pull-up to the trash inside the common bathroom and started downstairs. Today, however, she had to get back to the orientation session. It was supposed to start at 1:00 and it was already 1:05. She hurried back down to the lounge just as everyone was filing out for the campus tour. “Took you long enough,” said Ami. “That creepy skinny girl kept asking where our room was. She wanted to look for you.” She imagined Flower walking in on her as she was changing herself. “What did you tell her?” “I certainly didn’t give her the room number.” “Good,” said Bridget. She had plans for Flower, but she didn’t know how to get her alone without the terrorist. Maybe Ami should have told her to go up and find her, but someone else would have gone looking for the two of them and Bridget wasn’t sure how she would interrogate Flower. She didn’t think water boarding would work and besides, she still didn’t google how to do it. The tour of the campus took over an hour. They walked from building to building while the campus ambassador droned on and on about the different buildings and what went on inside them. “And this is the Engineering Building where most of the engineering students have classes. Bridget looked in the window and wondered what else would be going on in the class. She looked over at Flower who was standing with her uncle. At the sight of the terrorist, she had another little accident. It was just a trickle this time since she had completely emptied herself with her just before the tour. Her cheeks burned and she looked around to see if anyone noticed. “Just don’t look at him,” she whispered. “Pretend he’s not there.” Her pull up was mostly just damp and did not overwhelm the absorbent material at all. “You okay” asked Ami. “You look a bit flustered.” “I’m just a bit warm,” she said. Her face did fell warrm, but it was from the heat of her blushing, not the weather. “Now we are going inside this building and we can start orientation,” said the tour guide. The rest of the day was spent in a boring lecture hall. There were presentations about student life, campus rules, and diversity training. Where she was seated she couldn’t see the terrorist though. She wasn’t constantly dribbling anymore either. Pretending he wasn’t there was her best bet if she wanted to win. Finally they were dismissed. “I’m glad that’s over,” said Ami. “There are two more days of this,” said Bridget. She looked over her orientation schedule. “I wonder why they need three days or orientation.” “Worthless lectures about anorexia, racism, and acceptance,” said Ami. “Well the rest of the time will be with our advisors and team building exercises and stuff,” Bridget said. “Although your creepy, thin friend must not need the anorexia lecture,” said Ami. “She was nibbling on stuff from her lunch bag all day. She’s probably bulimic.” “She’s a vegan,” said Bridget. “She must eat a lot, but nothing of substance.” “Well speaking of food, they led us to the cafeteria,” said Ami. As soon as they returned to the Stephenson complex, they were led into the cafeteria. Bridget and Ami heaped their trays full of food. Today they were serving chicken and Jello. “I don’t think those two foods go together.” “I don’t care,” said Bridget. She set her tray on the table and picked up a drum stick and started to eat it. “It’s good enough.” Flower came by and set her tray on the table. She only had Jello on her tray. “I can’t believe you two are eating that much chicken. You know they live their entire lives in tiny cages and they can’t turn around.” Ami took a bit of her chicken breast and swallowed. “Not true. They’ll live some of their lives in my stomach. “So you are going to fill up on just Jello,” asked Bridget. “Yes,” answered Flower. “I don’t eat food from animals or animal products. Jello is made from fruit.” She spooned a bite of Jello into her mouth. “Hate to break it to you,” said Ami, in between bites of chicken. “Actually, I am happy to break it to you. Jello is made from the bones and skins of hogs. The only fruit in it is from the artificial flavoring.” “It is not,” said Flower. She took a tentative bite of her food. “That’s not nice,” said Bridget. “She hardly gets enough food as it is.” “I’m sorry I tied to trick you,” said Ami. She smiled. Bridget tried unsuccessfully to forget that Ami’s fingers were crossed. She was glad she loved meat. She ate fried chicken until she was full. She lost her appetite for Jello. “You going to eat that?” asked Ami as she pointed to her Jello. “No,” said Bridget. She scooped up Bridget’s Jello and ate it. “Sorry, but I am a hungry girl.” Flower finished her food about the same time. “A vegetarian diet really is healthier,” she said. “I can’t,” said Ami. “My Korean heritage requires me to eat meat, especially your cat or dog.” Flower got up and walked away quickly. “You don’t really?” asked Bridget. “Of course not; I was just messing with her,” Ami answered. “I’m born and raised in Seattle. I grew up on salmon filets, sea food, and Starbuck’s Coffee.” Bridget giggled. “Just don’t scare the poor girl away. I need to find out something from her first.” “Okay, I have another confession to make,” said Ami. “What’s that?” “I don’t have a Korean heritage. My great grandfather came to Seattle from China.” Bridget giggled again. She looked around and Flower was nowhere in sight. After supper Bridget spent the time mingling with others students. She and Ami were they only girls she found that were in engineering. A lot of the freshmen hadn’t even picked a major, which shocked and appalled Bridget. Bridget knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to take electrical engineering as a major and actually finish this time. Thanks to Angela’s parents money would not stand in her way. She hurried up to her room. Ami wasn’t there yet, so she used the time to diaper herself for bed. She didn’t know when Ami would walk in, so she changed herself on the floor of the large closet. There was no air conditioning in the Stephenson Complex and the evening was hot. She just put a T-shirt and gym shorts on over her diaper and went to sleep. It was funny trying to sleep at night in a strange place. It’s not the same. The bed in the Murphy house where she slept had felt strange the first week or so and this place would take getting used to as well. Any bed was still better than the cot she slept on in prison before she became Angela. Dreams came to her again that night, but it seemed too real. There were dead children. There was Lia’s father’s death. There was the terrorist. He entered her dream and just laughed at her as franticly tried to steer the truck away from the middle school. She felt the needle enter her arm in the death penalty and then she woke up in the woods. Lumberjacks were coming down the trail with chainsaws to cut the trees, but the terrorist had booby trapped them. Frantically she tried to pull the spikes from the trees with a crowbar, but the crowbar turned to rubber in her hands. Instead she tried to warn the lumberjacks what the terrorist had done but she couldn’t talk or make a sound from her throat. When the lumberjack started cutting a tree, she finally was able to yell out a warning, but it was too late. The chain saw went flying and hit her on the head. She woke up screaming just as a pillow hit her in the head. The sheets were wet and sweaty and twisted around her. Her shirt had ridden up and her shorts had come down exposing her diaper. “What the freak,” asked Ami. “Do you always scream when you wake up?” She walked over to retrieve her pillow. Bridget looked down make sure her diapers were covered, but the sheets were so twisted she couldn’t cover up before Ami discovered the juvenile garment she wore. “Is that a diaper?” asked Ami. “Most people stop wetting the bed by college age, Angela.” She paced back and forth across the room. “This is just gross. Cover up.” She grabbed some clothes and her toiletry bag to run to the bathroom. Bridget got up and stood between Ami and the door. “Listen, I can’t help it,” she said. “I went through a very stressful situation last year. I have nightmares every night and it’s horrible.” Tears came to her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying, but it couldn’t shut out the tears. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.” “It’s still gross,” said Ami. “Maybe you want to take a shower because you smell like pee.” “Do you promise?” asked Bridget. “I’m not asking you to refrain from teasing me; I’m just asking that you not tell anyone about this. It is so embarrassing.” “Okay,” said Ami. “I promise.” She looked toward the door. “I got an embarrassing problem too. I wasn’t counting on the common bathroom. I hate public bathrooms and...” She looked around. “It’s early enough. Can you guard the bathroom door while I go. I promise I will keep your secret.” “Okay, but we better hurry.” She went into the closet and put on her robe. She also grabbed the outfit she planned on wearing for the day and her bag of toiletries. Before she came out, she stripped off her diaper and rolled it up. She put it in a plastic bag and wrapped it in her towel. “I’m ready,” Bridget said. “Let’s hurry,” Ami said. She put one hand over her butt for a second before they went into the hall. ### “Thank goodness no one is in there,” said Ami. “Wait by the door and please don’t listen to anything.” Bridget stood in front of the doorway feeling foolish. She smelled herself: a mix of sweat and pee. Her hair felt matted and gross and her t-shirt stuck to her skin where she had soaked it with her sweat. She also had the wet diaper and new diaper hidden in the folds of her clothes and towel. It was only a matter of time until someone discovered her holding them. She almost screamed when a hand tapped her shoulder. “I’m done,” said Ami. “You can come in now. Ami’s face had turned bright red. “It’s so embarrassing. I overate yesterday.” Bridget hurried into the bathroom, deposited her used diaper into the garbage and hopped straight into the shower. She had just gotten wet when Ami called from the next shower stall. “On the bright side, the water is hot. I expected it to be cold,” she said. “One thing went right today,” said Bridget. She let the water rinse her pee and sweat down the drain. She rubbed the shampoo in her hair and let the lilac smell cover the grossness she felt every morning. When she was finished she dressed in a toilet stall, this time in her diaper and skirt. She was not taking a chance with leaking today. She finally came out and brushed her teeth at the sink. Ami was just finishing flossing when Bridget came out. “Ready for another day?” asked Ami. “The schedule said we have to take math, English, and writing placement tests. We should get a good breakfast first or they will put us in dummy classes.” “I guess you are right.” Bridget dragged her comb through her wet hair. She winced a bit as a tangle got caught in the teeth, but then had it under control. Angela’s hair was longer than her old hair had been and it was much harder to take care of, but she liked how it looked and had never cut it. Ami spent a longer time on makeup than her, so Bridget was able to finish at relatively the same time. “Ready for food?” asked Bridget. “Of course,” Ami replied. After dropping their stuff off at the room, they took the elevator downstairs for an early breakfast. ### It was bad enough that Bridget couldn’t cross her legs while wearing her diaper; it was even worse she couldn’t drop her hand in between her legs like she could if she were wearing pants. She bit her pencil and tried to concentrate on solving an equation. She wished she’d had just worn her pull-up and took chances that it might leak. She also wished she had gone to the bathroom after the English placement exam or even before the writing placement exam. Of course the bathroom had been full of other girls and she hadn’t wanted them to hear her diaper. She hadn’t had time between exams to go up to her room, and even if she had, she couldn’t get the privacy she really wanted. It was starting to get urgent and she was only fifteen minutes into her placement exam. She was tempted to give up, but that wouldn’t work either. She was only a third of the way through and needed to get through this exam or she might be put in remedial classes. That was three extra credit hours and hundreds of dollars and besides, she knew the material. She imagined she felt wetness in her diaper, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t feel anything come out. She wondered what would happen if she just got up and went to the restroom. Would they let her back in to finish the test? She didn’t want to take the chance. The proctor went up to the board and erased the 45 that was written on the board and wrote 40. She was running out of time. What would she do if she peed her pants? She sighed. It was not like her diaper wouldn’t hide it, but she had never just wet herself on purpose. It was always an accident. The terrorist caused those. She caused this herself by not using the toilet when she had a chance. She tried to concentrate on her math, but her bladder kept signaling that it wanted to be empty. The proctor changed the 40 to a 35 and she decided that it would only be a one time thing. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine she was on the toilet and relaxed. The familiar feeling of uncontrollable wetness streamed into her diaper. She just stared ahead and hoped it would stop before she overwhelmed the diaper. It did stop and the thirsty material of the diaper did its job. She tried to ignore the wetness against her skin as she finished the last bit of the test. She finished with moments to spare and went straight to the bathroom. As soon as she got in of the stall she took of her skirt and diaper and sat down on the toilet. She was completely empty, but her skin was wet. She just wiped off with toilet paper and grabbed a clean pull-up from her purse since she hadn’t brought an extra diaper. She pulled it on and rolled up the dirty diaper. Before exiting the stall, she checked that the coast was clear and then went and threw the old diaper away. She washed her hands and had just deposited the used paper towel into the trash over her old diaper when Ami walked in. “Oh, hi, Angela,” she said and rushed past her into the stall. Bridget could hear her fumbling with her clothing before sitting and starting to pee. She came out soon afterward. “How do you think you did on the tests?” asked Bridget. “I think I did okay,” she said. “Just wish the test wasn’t so long. I almost wish I would have stolen one of your diapers. I had to pee so bad.” Bridget blushed not only at the mention of her diapers, but also at the thought of having used one during the test. “About that,” she said. “You did promise you wouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t want anyone to find out by mistake.” Flower walked in. “Hi. How were your tests?” “Especially her,” whispered Bridget. ### The three walked to the cafeteria for lunch. “I wonder if they have anything healthy for dinner today,” said Flower. She gazed at the menu and smiled. “Cool,” she said, “they have portabella mushroom burgers.” “What’s that?” asked Ami. “It’s like a hamburger, except they have a portabella mushroom instead of the meat.” They went through the line pretty quickly. Ami grabbed a regular cheeseburger. “A little meat might help you,” said Ami. “You’re too skinny and your skin has an unhealthy paler to it.” “Humans beings were made to eat only fruits and vegetables,” said Flower. “You don’t know what healthy even looks like.” “Will you two knock it off?” Bridget said. “Let’s just sit down and eat without arguing. They chose a table and Bridget started on her cheeseburger. “So what is on the agenda this afternoon?” asked Ami. “Well, it says there is a presentation by intramurals and the student activities center,” said Flower. “I am hoping there will be an environmental club or something.” “Are your whole family vegetarians or green?” ask Bridget. This was the perfect chance for interrogation. She leaned forward in her seat ready to listen. “Not really,” she said. “My uncle has been a vegan as long as I’ve known him. I started in seventh grade. My parents were supportive though.” “So this uncle of yours: did you always hang out with him more than your own parents? I saw that he came with you for orientation and I saw him with you when we met at the mall.” “No, he just lives closer to WSU. I am from Seattle, so it would be a bit of a drive.” She took a bite of her mushroom burger. “So your parents must have busy jobs?” “Kinda,” she said. “My brother is starting college too and they are taking him to orientation at University of Oregon.” “So they ducked out of taking you?” asked Ami. Bridget and Flower both gave her a dirty look. “Get it? University of Oregon’s mascot is the Ducks.” Bridget couldn’t help but smile. She knew Ami was sarcastic. She didn’t know she was into puns. “Anyway,” said Flower. “I am staying with my uncle until school starts. He works for an animal rights group up in Spokane. I’ve been spending the summer volunteering.” “Oh,” asked Bridget. “What does that entail?” “So far I am just stuffing envelopes and walking door to door to get petitions signed. That kind of stuff.” “I kinda thought it would be a bit more exciting than that?” Bridget said. She didn’t know how to ask her if she was spiking trees or who did. She was about the same age as Angela, so she wouldn’t have had anything to do with the tanker incident. “Well anyway I am taking civil engineering so I can work on more sustainable ways to build things,” Flower said. “I actually can’t wait until school starts.” “I am taking Aerospace Engineering,” said Ami. “I am going to be working at Boeing.” “Nice goal,” said Bridget. “I’m in Electrical Engineering. Don’t know how that is going to work out for me. I do know that I will finish and get a degree this time.” “This time?” asked Ami and Flower together. Oops. She had misspoke again and in front of Flower. “I...uh...I said, ‘the first time.’” “Well I am only thinking about this time,” said Ami. “Tuition is high enough,” said Flower. She held up her water glass. “To getting through it the first time.” “Cheers,” said Bridget. ### There were quite a few clubs and intramural sports at Washington State. The presentation ran several hours and it was late in the afternoon before the presentation was done. One of the advisors came into the room. “Your placement tests were graded and I have the results to pass out too you. Also, I will pass out a slip of paper with your advising appointment on it. We will be making your class schedule there so have an idea of what classes you want to take and when. We will class you together for certain basic courses so your entire dorm floor is in the same section of English 101, for instance.” The names were called and each freshman walked up and took his or her advising appointment and test scores. When the name “Flower Childs” was called Flower ran up and got her scores. “Flower Childs?” Ami said and broke into giggles. “I thought Flower was bad enough.” “No wonder she is a screwed up hippie,” said Bridget. Not that having an eco-terrorist for an uncle screwed her up or anything, Bridget thought. Ami Kent was called and got her stuff. “I knew I would ace them all,” she said and showed off her score.” Flower stuck her tongue out at Ami. “I don’t have to take any dummy classes at least,” she said. “Now I’m sitting here without my scores and feeling all nervous,” said Bridget. She really didn’t want to take remedial math or English, especially since she was an honor student in high school. The would probably say all Idahoans were hicks if that happened. “Angela Murphy.” Bridget went up and got her scores. She looked at what she had: 95 in writing, 96 in English, and 92 in math. She frowned. It was the distraction of having to pee that had done her in on the math test. At least she still qualified to take calculus in the fall. That would have been embarrassing. She returned to her seat. “So what did you get?” Ami pulled her paper away. “That’s supposed to be private,” she said. “It’s not so bad,” said Ami as she pushed her scores back to her. “Some of these people are dummies. That girl over there has to take remedial math, writing, and English. At least she’s an art major.” “What do art majors do when they graduate?” asked Bridget. “I’ll give you a hint: would you like fries with that?” Ami giggled at her own joke. “That’s not so funny,” said Flower. “McDonalds kills chickens in the most inhumane way. If children knew how their food was killed they would not call what they eat Happy Meals.” “I’m suddenly not hungry,” Bridget said. “Want to go up to the room, Ami?” “I am sort of hungry,” said Ami. “Well I know a pizza place that delivers to the dorms.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t want to eat dinner with Flower tonight.” “Oh,” said Ami. “The two girls said their goodbyes and went up to the dorm room. Bridget woke up screaming again and wearing a wet diaper. At least the sheets weren’t twisted around her exposing her diaper to Ami again. Ami groaned. “I guess I am never going to get my beauty sleep with your nightmares.” She sat up and looked over at Bridget. “Did you have an accident again?” Bridget sighed. “I have terrible nightmares.” “Well, we may as well hit the showers,” said Ami. “You probably need one and I want one because it gets hot in here at night.” Bridget pulled on her robe and went into the closet to get her clothes and toiletries. She chose a pull-up instead of a diaper. She didn’t want to repeat the experience of wetting in the daytime and she was too embarrassed to change or make crinkling noises in the bathroom that could be heard by other girls. She collected her stuff just as Ami collected her own things. “I’m ready.” She and Ami went to the bathroom and they showered. It was early enough that it was still empty and they had the bathroom to themselves. Bridget dressed quickly and brushed her teeth before Ami came out and started to put on her makeup. “What’s on the agenda today?” “Just schedules,” Bridget answered. “I hope I get into the classes I want.” “We both did pretty good on the placement tests,” Ami said. “Yeah, that’s true only I did well on mine,” Bridget said with a smirk. She ran a brush through her hair and then scowled when it started to tangle. “Grammar Nazi.” Ami stuck her tongue out. “Serves you right. My hair is always straight and smooth.” Bridget brushed the tangles out and looked in the mirror. The pretty face that looked back at her was worth a bit of pain. It might not be worth the bedwetting and partial incontinence, but that would take care of its self when she got revenge with the terrorist. “I’m liking the long hair too much.” “Whatever.” “Feel like breakfast now?” asked Bridget. “Not really.” Ami rubbed her stomach. “I’m still satisfied from that pizza we gorged ourselves on last night.” “Well, maybe if we go downstairs the pool table will finally be free.” Bridget always had looked at the pool table with longing whenever she was escorted past the recreation area at the prison. They hadn’t let her mix with the other prisoners when she was incarcerated. She had spent most of the twelve years on death row alone. “Sure, sounds fun, Angela,” Ami said. They walked to the dorm’s rec room and sure enough, it was empty. The clock on the wall showed six o’clock, so most everyone else was in bed. Ami put the triangle on the table and began arranging balls. “I haven’t played pool since they dragged us all to some bowling alley after graduation so we couldn’t go to drunken parties.” “That actually sounds fun,” Bridget said. “Well you wake up wet no matter if you go to bed drunk or not,” Ami said. Bridget felt her face flush. She looked around to see if anyone had heard. “You promised you wouldn’t tell.” “Relax,” said Ami. “No one’s here. I’m not going to let anyone know your secret. Besides, you helped me out with my problem yesterday.” Bridget chalked her cue and aimed at the cue ball. “Well sorry. I guess I was just paranoid.” She pulled back her cue and broke. She smiled when the balls struck with a resounding crack. “I guess you’re stripes,” said Ami. Bridget sent four other balls into the pockets before finally missing the ten ball. “Thanks for getting your balls out of my way,” said Ami. She took her cue and only manage to get the two and seven balls in. Her third shot missed, but she managed to get the cue ball between the bumper and the eight and five ball. Bridget scowled. “Thanks for leaving me with a shot.” She had to bank off two different bumpers and didn’t even make the shot she was trying for. The cue ball rolled to a stop right in front of one of Ami’s balls leaving her an easy shot. Ami tapped the ball in and then tapped in a second and a third ball. She missed the forth ball. “Well at least I am tied with you. “Until now.” Bridget took aim and sunk the twelve. Her next shot sunk the ten. “Eight in the side.” She aimed at the eight ball, but the cue knocked it just short of the pocket. It rolled back toward the center of the table. “Man, that was an easy shot, Angela,” gloated Ami. She sunk a ball, but missed her next shot, leaving only the eight ball and one other solid on the table. “Hey can I play winner?” Bridget looked back and saw Flower standing behind her. Ami frowned. “Sure, I guess.” “Eight in the corner,” said Bridget. She took aim and sent her cue ball into the corner pocket. “Oops,” she said and handed her pool cue to Flower. “You did that on purpose,” said Ami. Bridget faced Ami and put a finger on her lips. “No, I didn’t. It was an accident.” Bridget walked away and sat in front of the TV while Flower and Ami played. She flipped through the channels, but never settled on anything to watch. After awhile Ami and Flower came over and sat down on either side of her. “Ami didn’t even give me a chance to win,” Flower complained. “What’s the secret to winning, Ami?” asked Bridget. “It’s my diet of bacon,” Ami answered. She smiled as Flower made a horrified face. “She’s just messing with you,” Bridget said. “So, are you excited about your advising session?” asked Flower. She seemed to be desperate to change the subject. “A little,” Bridget admitted. “I already know what classes I want to take,” said Ami. “Yeah?” asked Flower. “Well, I want to take the basic math, English, history, and engineering classes, but I think I can fit an art elective in there.” “I didn’t know you were an artist,” said Bridget. “Well, I like doing things with my hands,” said Ami. “The only art I’ve ever done is making protest signs,” said Flower. “Yeah, you were making protest signs in kindergarten with your finger paints when the rest of us were drawing stick figures,” said Ami with a sarcastic voice. “That doesn’t count,” said Flower. “I drew stick figures in kindergarten. I just never did any serious art.” “I think I am taking ballroom dancing instead of art,” said Bridget. “You dance?” ask Ami. “I like to dance too, but the boys at my high school weren’t really into dancing except for “Soulja Boy.” “What’s wrong with Soulja Boy?” asked Flower. “I like that dance.” “We kinda like dancing with boys, not watching them show off,” said Bridget. “Yeah,” said Ami. “Oh,” said Flower. “It that how you get boyfriends?” “Now you are beginning to understand, Flower,” said Ami. “However, you can’t expect a boy to survive on eating grass, so you need to learn how to cook him something good.” “I’m not going to sacrifice the lives of animals to give a boyfriend an impressive meal.” “Then bake him a cake. Or cookies.” “Can’t,” said Bridget. “She’s vegan, so eggs and milk are out. Right Flower?” She nodded. “But I can make tasty vegan meals. They are just as yummy.” Ami looked at her watch. “Oh crap. My advising appointment is in ten minutes.” Flower looked at the clock. “Mine too.” Bridget checked her schedule and sighed. “Well, see ya. Mine isn’t for another hour.” She watched as the two girls hurried out of the room and toward the administration building. ### Bridget walked around campus for a bit and then walked toward the administration building. She had got turned around a bit on her walk and only managed to arrive a minute before her appointment. Flower waved and she looked like she was ready to burst with excitement. “Angela, I got great news.” A mans’s voice called from the advising office, “Angela Murphy.” “I can’t talk. My appointment is now. Tell me after I get done.” She hurried into the advising office. “Do you have your schedule picked?” asked the advisor. “Yeah, I do,” said Bridget. “Let’s see.” Bridget laid her schedule on the table. “Well let’s see how we can fit those classes in.” The man typed her schedule into the computer in frowned. “That section is full.” “Do I have to pick something else?” asked Bridget. “Hold on.” He tapped a few buttons and then smiled. He turned his monitor toward Bridget. “How does this look?” Bridget looked at the screen. The classes where just rearrange so that she was in different sections from what she originally picked. There was only one eight o’clock class and it was on Tuesdays and Thursday’s. “That will be fine,” said Bridget. He printed out her schedule and handed it to her. “Now that your schedule is decided, are there any concerns or questions about the dorms or living conditions?” “Um, what do you mean?” “Do you need some special accommodation or something?” he asked. Bridget remembered that this was when she was supposed to ask if she could get a roommate that was also a bed wetter. Her mother told her to ask if that was possible and that likely it would be. However, she counted on having a female advisor and she couldn’t bring herself to tell this man that she still wet the bed like a three year old. “No, I don’t have anything like that,” she said. “Well, I guess we are done. We’ll see you in the Fall.” He stood up and held out his hand. She stood up and took it. “Welcome to WSU.” “Thanks.” She turned in left the room. Flower and Ami were waiting for her when she returned. “Guess what?” asked Flower. “You have news that you are bursting to tell me about,” said Bridget. “Well yeah,” said Flower. “We’re going to be roommates.” Bridget just stood there. Ami mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” “Well that sounds like fun,” said Bridget. She wondered how she could get close to Flower. Although she hadn’t counted on her being so annoying, it was probably the best way she could think of to find out more about this terrorist, especially since Flower would be part of any environmental group among the WSU student organizations. The three headed back to the dorm to pack. Freshman Orientation was over and in another month classes would begin. She had plenty of time to get her revenge with the terrorist. ### Bridget stood in front of her suitcase and stared at the stuff she had brought. She shoved her dirty clothes in her suitcase and then packed everything to go home. Ami smiled. “We’re taking the elevator down this time, right?” “We better,” said Bridget. “Oh, and sorry about you ending up with Flower as a roommate,” said Ami. “She is pretty annoying.” “I know, but it’s not that bad. Besides, she needs someone to keep an eye on her.” Bridget piled her suitcases together and sighed. “I hope she is nice about your nighttime problem,” said Ami. “I wasn’t planning on sharing that little factoid with her,” said Bridget. “Do you think she will find out?” “It depends on how restless you sleep.” Ami picked up her suitcase and reached for the door. “Yeah, she is going to blab to everyone.” “No,” said Ami. “I’ll speak to her about it if she finds out. I’ll put the fear of God into her.” “You’re a good friend,” said Bridget. “Thanks for being so good about my diapers.” “No problem,” said Ami. “It’s still gross, but I think that issue is minor compared to your nightmares.” She shivered. “I couldn’t stand nightly nightmares. I’d rather have to wear diapers twenty-four-seven than go through what you go through every night.” “Now that you put it that way,” said Bridget, “the bedwetting doesn’t seem as big a deal as I thought.” “Well, we better go downstairs. My mother will probably notice me since I was gone for three days.” “I hope that straightens itself out,” Bridget said. “I’m not betting on it,” said Ami. ### Bridget followed Ami out to the parking lot. They started packing their cars. Ami got in her car and drove away. Bridget waved. “Bye, Angela,” she heard. She turned and looked. Flower and her uncle were walking across the parking lot toward the terrorist’s Prius. Bridget felt the crotch of her pull-up get warm. She was peeing uncontrollably. She felt frozen in place until her bladder was empty. “Bye, Flower,” she said when she regained control of her voice. The pull-up caught most of the urine, but there was wetness seeping down the back of her legs. She looked down, but she seemed to be dry from the front. “I’ll see you in the Fall.” She waited until Flower and her uncle drove away in their Prius before she reached into her glove box for a trash bag and put it on the seat. She got into her car and drove away feeling soggy. That had not gone well. She looked at her gas gauge. At least she had enough gas to get home. Something had gone right. She imagined having to get out of her car, pump gas, and pay all while showing a pee stain in the back of her pants. She would have to make sure her bladder was more empty during the day if she ever expect to fight the terrorist. Bridget put on her pull-up and sighed. She had enjoyed wearing panties during the day again. She hadn’t seen or heard from the terrorist in weeks, except in her nightmares, and that meant no daytime accidents. She knew better than to go without protection at college and her bedwetting still required Depends to keep her sheets dry. She was leaving for college that day. She pulled her jeans up over her padded bottom and pulled on a t-shirt diagramming the rules to play rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock. She picked up the last of her things to take to her car. When she walked down the stairs, her mother met her. “Angela,” her mother said. “You got everything packed?” Bridget nodded. “Do you have enough supplies?” “Yes.” She blushed. Even though she had lived as Angela for five months, she still never got used to thinking of the Murphy’s as her real parents. The bedwetting really embarrassed her. So far the only ones that knew about that were her parents, Lia, and Ami. But of course everyone at her high school knew about the embarrassing accident she had, or rather Angela had, before Bridget found herself not in her own body as a condemned inmate, but in a high school student who just had a messy and public accident. Nobody could know about that. If anyone suspected, Bridget feared they might try to kill her for the crime the terrorist had framed her for. “Well Lia is outside,” her mother said. “Oh thanks,” said Bridget. She carried her last bag to her black Ford Crown Victoria and put it in the passenger seat. “Are you going to say goodbye,” asked Lia. She stood beside the car and frowned, with lips twisted in a pout. “Sure, Lia.” She stood to face her friend. “I know we were supposed to be roommates, but things didn’t work out.” “I know. You had to go to WSU instead of University of Idaho.” Lia frowned. “I’m over that. We are still friends. I just wanted to see you off before you go and to let you know I am not mad at you.” Bridget smile faded. If Lia told her that she was after the man who might be responsible for the death of her father in his tree spiking death, then Lia would be wanting to come to WSU with her, not wanting her to go to school is Moscow, Idaho. “So have you heard about your new roommate yet?” She nodded. “Her name is Flower. I met her at orientation. She seems pretty weird.” “Did you tell her about--“ “No,” said Bridget. “I don’t know how long I can hide that I wear diapers to bed, but I guess I will manage.” Knowing Flower, she would probably be more upset that she wasn’t wearing cloth. “Well, I hope she doesn’t make fun of you,” said Lia. “I’m more worried about other aspects of her personality,” Bridget said. “Oh?” She was not about to tell her that she was probably the only lead to the man who may have killed her father. “She’s a vegan and quite preachy about it.” “I enjoy my meat too much for that.” “I have no intention on adopting her food preferences,” said Bridget. “Well, good luck. I wish you could stay longer. Why do you have to leave so early?” “There are certain things I want to unpack before my new roommate gets there.” She certainly did not want to unpack her diapers under the watchful eye of Flower. “Oh,” said Lia. “Well, bye.” She leaned in and gave Bridget a hug. “I got to go. Today is my last day working at Thick Burger before I go to college tomorrow.” “Well, I will drive over and see you at least once before classes start.” “Thanks,” said Lia. She jumped into her car and drove off. Bridget returned to the house and said good bye to her mother. “Now you call when you get to campus.” “Yes, mother.” ### The drive wasn’t really that long, but it did take some time to get to campus. By the time she arrived it was already 8:45. Still, she couldn’t get her dorm key until nine o’clock anyway. “No, mother, I can’t go get your prescription,” a familiar voice said. Bridget looked and saw Ami talking into her phone. “I’m already here.” She paused. “At college.” Bridget waved to Ami. “I left last night while you and Dad were arguing.” Ami waved back. While she was occupied with her phone call, Bridget started unpacking her car to take stuff into the dorms. “No, I left because I can’t take the arguing anymore. I got to go. Bye.” She closed her phone. “Hi, Angela. Sorry you had to hear that.” “Still having problems at home?” “Nope,” she said. “I’m not home anymore, so it’s not a problem. I get to have some peace until Thanksgiving break.” “I’m glad you have some peace. I have to deal with Miss Flower Childs.” “And how she reacts to those nightmares you get?” Bridget blushed. “It’s still happening too, but maybe she won’t notice my choice of pajamas.” “I hope you are right. I only noticed because you kicked the sheets off at night. Hopefully it won’t be so freaking hot at night and you can wear some shorts to hide your diaper.” “Well, I really don’t want to dwell on that aspect of my stay here in college. I have great plans for the future. For what it is worth though, I wish you were my roommate and next semester I will try to change roommates. Flower just caught me by surprise requesting me as a roommate. For what it’s worth, I think someone needs to keep an eye on her to keep her from causing trouble.” “Good point,” said Ami. “I just think she needs to have a big plate of bacon and eggs.” The two girls hauled their stuff into the dorm and finally received their room assignments. “I’ll meet you after I get settled in,” said Bridget. She held up her cell phone. “I’ll call you.” It took her only five trips to bring everything upstairs to her dorm. Her clothes were packed in a big green Navy sea bag. She also had brought three boxes with her. One contained her computer and desk stuff. The other two contained diapers. She also had stuffed her toiletry bag in her new back pack. She had one more thing she hadn’t brought up. She ran down to her car and opened the truck. Inside was a black footlocker she had purchased at a garage sale the week before. It was about 18 inches high and three feet wide. It also had a lock. The lock thing was a big deal. It would be perfect for her diapers. The only problem was that, even empty, the footlocker was heavy. She leaned into the trunk of her car and tried her best to lift it out. She hadn’t even thought it would be that heavy. The husband of the lady who ran the garage sale had put it in her trunk for her. “Having trouble?” asked another student. He had a suitcase in one hand and a strange device in the other. “I can’t get my footlocker out of the car.” He put down his stuff and reached into the trunk and easily lifted the footlocker out of the car. He put it down behind the car. “Thanks,” said Bridget. “No problem.” He put out his hand. “Dave Matthews.” “You in a band?” asked Bridget. “I did play tuba for the Newport Knights Marching Band.” He smiled. “I get that all the time.” Bridget giggled. “I’m Angela Murphy.” She looked over at the device he held. “What is that?” “It’s a metal detector,” he said. “I like to search for old coins. It’s a bit of a hobby. I think it will be more challenging since there is no beach around, but who knows.” “Sounds like fun,” said Bridget. “Well, it is,” he said. “Tell you what.” He turned and put his gear back in his car and returned. “I’ll help you with your footlocker. I can always bring the rest of my stuff later.” He picked up the locker and started to carry it. ### “Cool,” said Dave Matthews. “We are right next door to one another.” “That’s pretty cool,” said Bridget. “After you get settled in, do you want to go get something to eat somewhere? My treat.” Bridget smiled. “I’d love to.” Then she remembered what she had told Ami. “I sort of promised my friend I would go with her. Maybe you can ask me out to dinner a different time?” She returned to her room and quickly opened the footlocker and started to fill it with her diapers. Once that was done, she threw away her boxes, put her clothes in the dresser that was in the closet and set up her computer on the little desk. She was just about done and going to make her bed when Flower walked in with her uncle. “Hi, Angela,” she said enthusiastically. Bridget just froze. Her body suddenly felt numb as the terrorist looked at her. Her crotch muscles relaxed of their own accord and she felt warmth fill her pull-up. The terrorist was in her room, helping Flower carry her things. She had never been so close to the terrorist since she crouched paralyzed with fear in her tanker truck so many years ago. She also noticed something else. It was not just her bladder that was failing her. She felt a pressure at her butt and she had to poop really bad. She grabbed her purse, and squeezed past the terrorist. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She walked as quickly as she could to the bathroom, but the urgency seemed to lessen as closer as she got. She didn’t care though. She entered a stall, pulled down her jeans and pull-up and sat down. The last thing she needed was a bowel control problem on top of her bladder issues. She used the toilet to empty herself the best she could and then when through the process of changing her pull-up. The pull-up was wet, but it could have been worse if she would have messed it. Fortunately she retained more control over her bowels than her bladder. She sheepishly slipped back into her room. The terrorist wasn’t there any longer and Bridget sighed with relief. “Why’d you rush out so quickly?” asked Flower. “I just had to use the restroom,” said Bridget. “Oh, I just wondered.” Bridget returned to the task of making her bed and then watched as Flower put her stuff around the room. She had posters that she had to put up showing animals and slogans. One was a poster of a cute piglet that read, “Does your food have a face?” Bridget sighed. She would have to have a talk about the decorating taste Flower showed. Her uncle showed up more times and it took all Bridget’s strength not to rush out of the room. Her bladder was already empty, so there were no more accidents, but that still didn’t make Bridget feel comfortable. “We are going to Studio 7 Vegetarian Restaurant,” said Flower. “Want to come?” “I’m really sorry,” said Bridget. She really wasn’t. “I promised Ami I would eat dinner with her already. After that, I am going to lay around and be a vegetable myself.” “Suit yourself,” said Flower. She and her uncle left and Bridget sighed with relief. In hindsight she should have gone. She may have even had a chance of following the terrorist, but unfortunately, she chickened out. She sighed and returned to arranging her things in her room. After everything was square, she went down the hall to Ami’s room. “Hi, Angela,” said Ami. “Come in.” On the other side of the dorm room music blasted from a set of speakers with an iPod hooked to it. The girl near the iPod glared at Bridget like her presence was some kind of intrusion. Well she glared with one heavily mascara-blacked eye. Bridget couldn’t see her other eye due to her long multicolored bangs covering it. She was very skinny and pale, but she wore long sleeves even in the summer. Bridget didn’t know how she could stand it. “We should make some rule about guests, Kim,” said the girl. “It’s Ami. Can you say Ami?” “I’m still getting my stuff arranged. Can’t we have a moratorium on guests until we get settled in?” Ami grabbed her purse and room key. “Fine,” she said, “but let’s have a moratorium on loud depressing music too.” She put her hand on Bridget’s forearm and directed her out into the hall. “I wish you were my roommate, Angela,” she said. “Anise is a stupid emo brat.” “I noticed.” Bridget wasn’t sure what an emo was, but she could tell Ami was already fed up with her. She had never seen Ami as angry as she was. Her roommate must be more annoying than Flower. “No you didn’t notice. As soon as she got here, she plugged in her iPod to loud speakers and started blasting her crappy depresso-music to everyone. I am going to go insane. Not only that, but she said my painting had to go. It’s an original Patrick Fuenz. She said it was too bright and happy. Then she puts up cheap band posters that are depressing with pictures of hearts being stabbed and shit like that.” “Hey,” said Bridget, “speaking of stabbing things, let’s go to the Fireside Grill and get some steaks. My treat.” “Yay,” said Ami. “It’ll give you a chance to forget about Anise,” Bridget suggested. “Well, I have yet to forget about her. I swear, I will cut her wrists in her sleep and no one will believe she didn’t do it to herself.” “Now that is extreme even for you,” said Bridget. The two girls took the elevator down to the first floor and began walking out to the parking lot. “Alright,” she said. “I won’t kill her, but I might get one of those roommate agreement things.” “That is more constructive.” “I mean, I would rather have you as a roommate even if you needed your diapers all the time. Let’s take my Eclipse. It is faster.” “Are you kidding?” ask Bridget. “My Crown Vic may look older, but I have a 5.8 liter V8 Police engine. We are taking the Machine.” Bridget hopped in the driver’s seat of her car and waited for Ami to get inside. “This looks a lot like an old person’s car with no hubcaps,” said Ami as she got inside. She buckled up and closed the door. Bridget started the car and threw it into reverse. The tires squealed as she backed out of her spot and then she threw it into drive and hit the accelerator. She grinned as Ami grabbed hold of the dash with one hand and the door with the other. Bridget turned onto the street and roared off campus toward the area of town where the restaurant was. ### “See, I told you my car is the fastest,” said Bridget. “Jeeze, you got here so fast, I almost needed one of your diapers, Angela,” she said. “Let’s not go so fast on the way back.” “Okay,” she said. “But only if you promise to stop mentioning my diapers in public.” “I won’t let anyone know, Angela. You know I promised that.” The two girls went inside and they got seated at a table. Ami started right in. “I don’t know how I will last the semester. Anise has gotten on my last nerve and I’ve known her less than an hour.” “Well at least you don’t have to deal with Flower,” said Bridget. “She put up PETA posters on her side of the room. I have to think about stuff like that that every time I look at them.” “Speaking of Eating Tasty Animals,” said Ami. The waitress came and took their steak orders. In less than ten minutes she brought their steaks and they were enjoying lunch. Bridget took her knife and cut through her steak and smiled as reddish brown juices flowed. She cut a piece of steak and put it in her mouth. “This is really good.” “Yes, it is,” Ami agreed. “So what does Anise like to eat?” asked Bridget. “I have no idea,” said Ami. They talked about classes and their plans until their food was gone and it was time to go to campus again. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the bill,” said Ami. She pulled out a credit card and gave it to the waitress who brought their bill. Soon after the two girls headed back to Bridget’s car. “Do you think we have time to make a Walmart run?” asked Bridget. “No, we got that assembly in less than thirty minutes.” “Oh, well let’s go to the assembly.” ### The assembly was as boring as Bridget expected. Flower insisted on sitting next to her in the auditorium. Ami sat on the other side. The assembly was basically a rehash of things that they covered a few months back in orientation and a schedule of the Week of Welcome activities. Everything to get freshmen ready before classes began. Bridget didn’t know whether to be annoyed or frustrated by all that she had to do to get ready for classes until she realized most of the stuff was optional. The only thing she would really have to do is buy her books at the bookstore and visit all the classrooms on her schedule to make sure she knew the way. Still the study skills session and note-taking session would have been useful the first time she went to college. Maybe she would have graduated. After about ninety minutes the assembly was over and they were dismissed until the next day. Bridget got up, said goodbye to Ami, and returned to her room to relax until then. ### Flower did not return to the room right away. In fact, she didn’t come back until well after Bridget was diapered and asleep. “Hey, Angela,” she said as she came in the dorm room at 2:00 am and turned on the light. She stumbled and fell into the room and Bridget knew right away what was wrong. She got out of bed and closed the dormroom door and leaned down to where Flower had fallen. “Oh great, you’re drunk aren’t you?” She put Flower in her bed, fully dressed, and only took off her shoes. She was tempted to diaper Flower, but then Flower would wonder where the diaper had come from if she woke up dressed in one. Bridget crossed back to her own bed and tried to fall asleep. She hoped Flower wouldn’t make a habit of coming back to the dorm drunk. Bridget woke up screaming the next morning. The dream was especially intense and she actually forgot it was a dream. That was until her dream self began to pee herself. She woke up hot and sweaty, but she checked to make sure her diaper was covered. She sighed with relief when she saw she was covered. However her diaper felt wet and it was time to change. “Can you be quiet?” said the rumpled form of Flower from her side of the dorm room. “My head hurts.” Bridget sighed. She then grabbed her robe and pulled it on before getting out of bed. She just had to get into her walk-in closet and pull off her diaper without Flower finding out. “Oh, dammit,” said Flower as she sat up in bed. She rubbed her hands over the mattress and then closed her eyes and held them to her head. “What’s wrong?” asked Bridget. “Stop shouting at me,” Flower begged. “I have a hangover I think. I never drank before last night.” She got out of bed with her clothes still on. Her jeans were wet around her butt and the bottom of her shirt was even wet. Bridget went into her closet, stripped off her diaper and gathered her toiletries before going out to lecture Flower. Flower just stood in the dorm room in her wet clothes looking at her wet bed. “I can’t believe I had an accident. I haven’t done that since I was seven.” She looked over at Bridget. “What do I do?” “Just take off your wet things, put on your robe and go shower,” Bridget commanded. Flower did as commanded and left the room. Bridget sighed and looked around. Her own sheets were wet with sweat. She took her own sheets and Flower’s and put them in a basket. She put Flowers clothes on top. Then she left for her own shower. The water washed her own smelly skin off and she wondered if Flower had peed herself before or it was just drunkenness. She thought it more likely the latter, but it didn’t matter. She would use Flower’s accident to her advantage. She got out of the shower and then dried off, dressed, and readied her make-up in the mirror. Flower was three sinks away, putting on her own makeup. She looked at Bridget and turned red. Bridget smiled and left the bathroom. She returned to her dorm room, got the laundry basket and took them to the laundry room. She had scoped out the laundry room for her dorm floor earlier and knew exactly where to go. She obviously didn’t want to be spotted carrying wet sheets in the hall, even if they didn’t belong to her. She finally spotted the laundry room and dumped the basket in the nearest washer. She didn’t bother sorting. Her sheets were colored, Flower’s sheet were colored, and the only thing white were Flower’s panties that were still inside her jeans. She dumped in some detergent, put some quarters in the machine and returned to her room. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” said Flower as Bridget returned to the room. “I think it would amuse Ami.” She was still sore at Flower. Flower stared back at her like a deer in headlights. “You can’t.” “Okay,” said Bridget, “but that comes down.” She pointed at the Meat is Murder poster over Flower’s bed. “Fine,” said Flower. She climbed on her bed, her feet almost slipping on the plastic sheet, and pulled the poster down. “And--,” said Bridget. “Something else yet?” “Yeah,” said Bridget. If her diaper leaked on her bed, Flower would find out about it. “If it happens to me ever, then you will have to be quiet about it.” “Deal,” said Flower. She said it quickly as if she expected Bridget to add on more terms. She sat on the bed and patted the plastic sheet. “These came in handy.” Bridget had one on her bed, and as far as she knew, so did Ami and Anise. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s so drunken freshmen don’t ruin the mattress.” Flower blushed. “I’m going to breakfast,” said Bridget. “Put our laundry in the dryer after another forty minutes.” It was only right that Flower should have to help since she caused the laundry problem. ### “So Angela, did anything interesting happen last night?” asked Ami. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” said Bridget. She took a bite of her eggs and then stabbed a strip of bacon with her fork. Ami smiled. “I saw Flower stumbling back from the room last night. Anise and her were in another dormroom partying.” “Anise and Flower are friends?” “No,” said Ami. “They were just partying. Anise woke me up and grumbled about some hippie bitch who had too much alcohol.” “That sounds like Flower,” said Bridget. “I put her to bed and she woke up cranky and with a headache.” “Well was she at least too out of it to find out about your nighttime stuff?” Bridget’s face felt warm, but she nodded. “Good.” Ami took a bite of her omelet and then started to scoop up another piece with her fork. “Now we can concentrate on the rest of the week of boredom.” ### “Welcome new freshmen. I work for the counseling office. I just want to let you know what is on the agenda until classes start on Monday. Today is already Thursday. You should have gone on a campus tour yesterday, and today after lunch you’re basically free until then. However, there is a full schedule of activities. Tomorrow there is a camping trip into the woods that will leave early Friday morning and return Sunday night. There are also concerts and plays put on by the drama club and orchestra. There is also a study skills workshop.” She droned on and on about the activities and how they were adults, but that attending class was important to success. Bridget spent the whole time trying not to roll her eyes. “Did you think it would take this long?” asked Ami. “I had no idea,” said Bridget. They walked together out of the lecture hall. “We need to go to the book store.” “Me too, but first I am going to the bathroom.” The two of them walked into the bathroom and got stalls next to each other. Bridget sat and peed. She heard Ami do the same. They finished at about the same time and both of them went to the sink to wash their hands. “I couldn’t help but notice,” said Ami. “Are you wearing a diaper?” Bridget’s face felt warm again. She was wearing a pull-up in case Flower’s uncle appeared. “It’s a pull-up she whispered. It’s for just in case. I don’t use it during the day.” “I was just curious,” said Ami. “It is less noticeable that a wet spot on your pants, I guess.” “That’s not even funny,” said Bridget. She remembered the spreading warm wet spot expanding on the front and back of her pants that streaked her jeans when she and Lia were at the movie theater. She did not want to experience that again. “But it must have happened to you,” Ami said, “or you wouldn’t be wearing the pull-ups.” “Once or twice. I got a reputation during my last semester when it happened once in class and another time in front of people from school.” Bridget looked at Ami. “Please don’t spread that around.” “I promise Angela.” “Well, let’s go to the book store.” ### The bookstore was quite the experience. Bridget bought used when she could, but the books still cost her about four times what she paid when she was a student the first time. She held up a shrink wrapped book to Ami as they exited the store. “This was $150 and I don’t dare unwrap it until the first day of class in case the instructor isn’t planning on using the book.” “Well I had to pay $50 for this.” She held a shrink wrapped thing of study notes that looked like it was Xeroxed copies of the instructor’s notes. It wasn’t even bound, but was just loose pages. “That is bad,” said Bridget. She put her most expensive book back away with the rest of her $400 in purchases. “Well, it’s just my parent’s money, but that is still a limited resource.” They arrived at the dorm and Bridget remembered her laundry. She had to make her bed. “I got to take care of some things,” she said. “I am still getting settled in.” “I understand,” said Ami. “I have to go to the mall and get some noise-canceling headphones.” Bridget thought of Anise. “Yeah, you’ll need them.” She got to her door and entered. “Hi,” said Flower. “Oh, I just came to the bookstore. Have you been yet?” Bridget looked around. Flower’s bed was made and Flower also had made her own bed. “Thanks for making my bed.” She dumped her books out on the bed. She had half expected to find that her sheets were still in the washing machine, but Flower had not only dried them, but made the bed. “It’s the least I could do,” said Flower. “I guess I should go to the book store. I won’t have a chance to go later because I am going on that camp out.” “I didn’t see you as the woods type of girl,” Bridget said. “I like nature and the environment,” said Flower. “I am going to stay here and rest up for classes.” “Well have fun, Angela.” She looked at her watch. “I really got to go.” Bridget spent the rest of the night reading ahead in her textbooks and relaxing. Bridget dreamt of the truck again. She could not turn the truck in time after wresting the steering wheel from the terrorist and it still struck the school. Burning children chased her. One of the girls asked her, “What are you doing about it? The terrorist is still out there.” “I can’t yet. It’s not time. I don’t know how to get the terrorist,” Bridget begged. “Your job is not to get just the terrorist,” said the burned little girl. “You need to get his whole gang.” “But...” Bridget tried to say. “Until you do, you will wake up wet.” She waved her hand and Bridget felt herself start to wet her diaper. She woke up in a wet diaper just as a knock came at her door. She groggily walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. “Who is it?” “It’s me, Dave,” said the guy at her door. “Dave Mathews. I wondered if you wanted to go on a walk or something.” Bridget looked around for a clock. She wondered what time it was. The clock radio on her nightstand read ten o’clock already. She had put him off for dinner and she really did want to get together sometime, but not dressed in only a diaper. “Can you come back in ten minutes?” she asked. “I need to get ready. I just woke up.” “Sure.” Bridget watched as he walked away from her door. As soon as the coast was clear, she tore off her diaper, put on her robe, and grabbed her toiletries. She looked at Flower’s perfectly made bed. It was nice the past couple of nights having her gone. She didn’t have to hide her diaper; she only had to lock the door. She even was able to sleep in just a diaper with only a thin sheet covering her. That would never work when Flower was here. She walked quickly to the bathroom, deposited her diaper in the trash and took a quick shower. The shower was just long enough to wash her hair, and get the pee smell off of her skin. She hoped for the day that she could wake up dry. After the shower she quickly did her morning routine and came out to find Dave. “So what are we doing?” asked Bridget. “Well, Angela,” he said, “I thought we would just walk around a bit and see where our classes are. Classes start tomorrow.” “I did that already,” Bridget said. He looked sad, but Bridget really wanted to make him happy. “How about we go somewhere and you can show me how your metal detector works.” “I guess we could do that. Most girls aren’t interested in metal detectors. Let me go get it.” “You do that Dave Mathews. And most girls aren’t in the engineering program so that is why they aren’t interested. I am.” ### “You just hold it a few inches of the ground and wave it around,” said Dave. He waved the detector across a small area and walked forward. After walking a few feet it beeped. Whenever he waved it over the same area it beeped again. “Does that beeping sound mean you found something?” asked Bridget. “Maybe,” said Dave. He knelt down and began digging with a small trowel. He picked up a small object and handed it to Bridget. She looked at it. “It’s a nail.” She was about to throw it down. “Probably we should throw it out so it doesn’t get caught in a lawnmower when they mow.” “Oh, good idea,” she said. She picked up the metal detector and moved it across the ground. “I expected it to be a lot easier to find stuff I wanted. I didn’t think about stuff I didn’t want.” “Well that is half the fun of finding things,” he said. “I’ll trust you on that.” Bridget swept the metal detector back and forth and suddenly it began to beep louder than it had with the nail. “Oh I found something.” Dave smiled when he saw where she had detected metal. “Does it read through concrete?” she asked. “Too bad we can’t dig underneath there without damaging the sidewalk.” “It will certainly do that,” said Dave, “especially since it is reading the rebar inside the sidewalk.” Bridget felt herself blush. “Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. “That’s okay. We can go to the beach and play with the metal detector. It is a lot more fun and you do find more valuable stuff.” She smiled at Dave Matthews. “I’d like that.” He took the metal detector from her. “Enough of my hobby.” He looked at his watch. How about we go to Applebee’s? My treat.” Bridget rubbed her stomach. “That sounds like a great idea.” ### Lunch with Dave went pretty well. He opened doors for her, pulled her chair out at the restaurant and was a nice gentleman. It was she that ruined everything. “Thank you for taking me to lunch,” she said as they walked out toward his car. “No problem,” said Dave. “I kind of like you.” She turned to look at him. “Just kind of?” As she continued walking, she didn’t notice a raise part of the pavement where there was a crack. Her toe caught it and sent her flat on her butt. She dropped her purse as well sending the contents scattering. Dave bent down and started gathering everything that spilled out including her spare pull-up. He held it up. “Why do you have these?” Bridget felt her face heat up. “I um...,” she started, but then trailed off. She looked at Dave’s eyes and had to tell him something. “I have a bladder control problem,” she said. Her throat hurt and she felt like she was going to cry. She liked Dave Matthews. He didn’t have to wrinkle his nose, she thought. “I appreciate if you didn’t spread around my problem.” He looked away from her. “Hey, we’re friends,” he said. “I was just going to tell you how much I like you as just friends. Let me help you pick up the rest of your things.” He was nice to her about picking up her things, but she couldn’t help thinking that he was offering more than a friendship until he saw the pull-up. “I’m not going to let him see me crying,” she promised herself. She forced a smile until they got back to campus. Bridget barely held back the tears before she made it to her dorm room and shut the door. ### After moping around in her dorm room all afternoon, Bridget decided to get some sleep. She looked in the mirror and saw her eyes were still puffy and she did not want anyone in the hall to see her, especially Dave Matthews. “Maybe I’ll just go to bed and wake up super early tomorrow. She got out her diaper for the night and started to put it on. The sound of a key in the door rattled and she quickly pulled her covers over herself before Flower walked in. “Ugh, I am glad I am back in civilization,” said Flower. She dumped her bag on the bed and started unpacking. She dumped all the clothes in her laundry. “Did you have fun on your camping trip?” asked Bridget. She was a bit nervous sitting in her bed with only her diaper and T-shirt. She usually wore shorts to bed over the diaper to hide it from Flower. “Oh the place we stayed was beautiful,” said Flower. “We stayed by the river. It’s too bad the trees on the other side of the river are owned by a lumber company.” “Well,” said Bridget. “Where do you think we get buildings and stuff.” “Well, it is horrible,” said Flower. “The trees are natural and beautiful. They are cutting them down next Saturday. Someone should do something.” Bridget started to tremble. If wasn’t only wearing a diaper and a t-shirt she would have gotten up and slapped some sense into Flower. Instead, she had to deal with Flower without getting up from her bed. “Flower, relax. The first day of classes are tomorrow. I want to get some rest. Besides, you can’t do anything about it tonight.” “I guess you are right. I am going to bed early as well.” “Thanks,” said Bridget. It was two hours until she heard Flower’s soft breathing that indicated she was asleep before she could retrieve her shorts and cover her diapers. “Was your first week as hard as mine?” asked Bridget. She hefted her backpack on her shoulder as she and Ami walked out of the classroom. “It wasn’t that bad,” said Ami, “and I am not just saying that because I’m Asian.” She smiled at her own joke. “I could have done without so much homework. The professor gave us miles of Physics homework.” “It’s almost like we’re Engineering students or something,” said Bridget. “Maybe we should start a study group.” “Good idea. You want to meet after supper and we’ll just hang around your dorm room and work on homework?” Ami wrinkled her nose. “Anise made it clear that music would be playing since it is Friday.” “At least you only have to deal with her until she flunks out,” said Bridget. “I would have thought with her being emo she would have majored in English literature or something like that.” As the two girls walked down the path toward the dorm, Flower caught up to them. “Hey guys, what’s up?” “We are going to get started studying,” said Ami. “You are welcome to join us.” “I can’t,” said Flower. “It’s a life or death thing. If I don’t do this, bad things will happen.” She frowned. “I am free Saturday morning.” “We do have a life,” said Bridget. “Saturday I am sleeping in and then going shopping.” “I thought you and Dave Matthews were going somewhere special on Saturday,” said Flower. “He said something about it to me last week.” “Dave and I are not speaking,” said Bridget. “Well, I hope it blows over,” said Flower. “I am still your friend even though you kill harmless animals and eat them. What you two argue about is probably nothing compared to that.” “Bridget, are we getting General Tso’s chicken for dinner?” asked Ami. “I like it because it was named after a butcher.” “We are going to get some supper, Flower,” said Bridget. “You are free to join us.” “No, my uncle is taking me out for vegetarian tonight.” Bridget felt a slight trickle of pee leak into her pull-up at the mention of the terrorist, but she managed to control herself. She did feel slightly damp. “Let’s go Ami. I’m hungry.” “I’ll see you later tonight,” said Flower. ### “That was awkward,” said Ami. She picked up a piece of chicken with her chopsticks and expertly guided it into her mouth. Bridget picked up a bite of food, but when she turned it toward her mouth her fingers cramped and she dropped both the broccoli and her chopsticks. “What was awkward?” Ami handed her a fork and Bridget stabbed a piece of chicken with it. “The way Flower talks about her uncle all the time.” Bridget dropped her fork as she began to wet her pull-up. She felt her bottom for leaks and sighed with relief as her hand came away dry. “I got to go to the restroom.” “Me too,” said Ami. “Um, I,” Bridget started to say. She wet her pull-up and didn’t really want Ami to know that she wet during the day too. Still Ami was following her. They went into the restroom together. Unfortunately it was a small two stall bathroom and the stalls had no doors. Bridget felt trapped. She could rip the pull-up off of her, but she still had to take off her blue jeans to put the clean pull-up on. Ami had already sat down and started peeing, so Bridget hurried to change. Taking her shoes off in a gross bathroom always disgusted her. She quickly put the new pull-up in place and started to pull up her jeans when Ami came out of the stall. Bridget’s face felt hot when she noticed Ami looking at the wet pull-up at her feet. “Are you okay, Angela?” Bridget finished pulling up her pants and then tied her shoes before picking up the wet pull-up and throwing it away. “I’m fine.” “Your nighttime problem seems to have become a daytime problem,” said Ami. She turned on the water and washed her hands. “Can we please change the subject?” The door opened and another woman entered the restroom. “Yeah, come on. Let’s finish eating.” They ate mostly in silence and didn’t say anything until they got to the car. ### Later that evening Bridget and Ami did their homework together. There was a lot, so Bridget did have a lot to finish the next day, but she knew which directions to go. She had never seen some of the math before and it was difficult. “I’m going to go down stairs and work in the lobby,” said Ami. “That means I will sit in front of the TV watching infomercials.” “Lovely,” said Bridget. “I don’t want to look at another physics problem. I am going to dream I am driving a truck on a frictionless road accelerating at 3 meters per second per second. How far do you think I’ll travel before morning?” Ami smiled. “Angela, you know I would make a smartass answer, but I don’t want to solve for distance.” “Slacker,” she said as she shut the door. She yawned and stretched. I think I’ll go to bed, she thought. Bridget slid out of her clothes and put on a clean diaper for bed. She pulled on a long T-shirt over it. She looked around for her shorts and found them in the laundry with a slight pee stain on them. Her diaper had started to leak the night before. She had to go to bed without them. ### Bridget did dream of kinematics. She kept trying to calculate over and over how to slow her tanker truck before it hit the school. When she bailed from the truck her physics professor was standing above her. “You could have stopped it if you were smart enough to figure out a simple physics problem.” She heard a terrible crash and felt herself peeing again. She opened her eyes in time to see Flower stumbling to then floor. She shielded the light with her arms and squinted across the room to see what the commotion was all about. “Ouch,” squealed Flower. The floor was covered with a box of spilt nails. They weren’t just picture-hanging nails; they were pretty big. A hammer lay on the floor beside Flower who was holding her foot. “That hurt dammit. I dropped a hammer on my foot.” “What are you doing with a hammer this time of night, Flower?” asked Bridget. She watched as Flower tried to scrape the nails together into a pile and put back into the box she spilled. “My uncle and I were doing a project together,” she said. Bridget’s pee muscles tried to release, but she had already emptied her bladder into her diaper. “Well I may as well tell you,” said Flower. “That forest they were going to cut down. Well, my uncle and I and another friend put nails in the trees to keep them safe from the loggers.” “You what?” asked Bridget. She got out of her bed and walked straight up to Flower and pushed her against her bed. “You know that when the loggers cut down the trees that their chainsaw blades will break?” Flower looked up at Bridget and then down at her hand that was twisted in the collar of her shirt. “So?” “So what do you think happens to the logger when the chainsaw blade brakes and flies back at him?” she yelled. “My best friend’s father died because some worthless hippy spiked a tree. Now I find out my own roommate is trying to murder more people.” Flower started crying. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” she sobbed. “I just wanted to protect the trees.” “At the expense of human life,” said Bridget. She released Flower and turned toward her closet. “Do you remember where you spiked the trees?” Flower reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with a Yahoo map on it. “We just did here.” She handed it to Bridget. The Yahoo map had the section of forest that was spiked marked in red marker. “We only got the West side of the forest done though.” She looked at Bridget’s diaper. “Why are you wearing a diaper?” Bridget looked down and noticed she wasn’t covered. She really hadn’t planned on letting Flower know about her wetting problem. “Don’t worry about that. You should be worried about how long you are going to spend in jail after one of your nails kills a lumberjack.” She found her jeans and pulled them on. Then she grabbed her car keys. “Well don’t tell anyone,” Flower whined. “I don’t want to go to jail.” She knelt down and continued to gather the nails scattered on the floor. “Maybe I should drop you off in the woods and make you pull all those nails you put into the trees,” said Bridget. “But how would we know we got them all?” asked Flower. “They are not made of shiny metal and it’s dark. I couldn’t even detect where I hit them in the tree.” “That’s it,” said Bridget. “Dave Matthews has a metal detector. We can find the nails with it.” She grabbed the hammer in one hand and yanked Flower out the door with the other hand. She handed her keys and the hammer to Flower. “Now go wait in my car.” ### Bridget crept up the stairs to the next floor and entered into the dark hallway. As she crept past the bathroom, she blushed. She hoped no boys had to get up in the night and use the bathroom. She didn’t want to run into anyone wearing only boxers. Finally she arrived at Dave Matthew’s door and knocked. There was no answer. She pounded on the door. “Open up Dave, I need to come in now,” she hissed. A groggy Dave came to the door. “Angela?” “Yes it’s me.” She forced her way past him into the dorm. “You aren’t supposed to be here after 10:00,” he said. “This is a guy’s floor.” “I know the rules,” she said. “This is important. I need your metal detector.” “But--” “Just for tonight.” “No,” he said. “It’s expensive. Where are you going with it?” She thought of Flower. She really didn’t want to go to jail. “I can’t tell you.” She slipped off her shirt, pushed her bra down, and took Dave’s hand and pressed them against her breasts. “Please.” “But--” “I would sleep with you if I had time and you weren’t grossed out be my bladder control problem.” She took his hands and started rubbing them on her breasts. “Sure,” he said. “But you have to pay for any damage you do to my metal detector and...” “And?” He pulled a hand away from her breast and slipped it toward the top of her pants. When his hand felt the top of her diaper, he stopped. “Ugh, nevermind.” She pulled her shirt back on while he turned to his closet and got the metal detector. It was in her hands. She also saw a crowbar leaning against the back of the closet. “I want that too,” she said. She left the dorms with those two items in hand.” ### “We’re here,” said Flower. “At least I think.” Bridget parked the car and the two girls got out. Bridget checked her watch. “It’s almost 4:00 am. We got to get this done quickly.” “Yeah, the lumberjacks come here at six,” said Flower. “I don’t want to get caught by them.” “Well than help me.” She swung the metal detector along the nearest tree trunk. As she raised it, it beeped. “Here is the first nail. Take it out.” Flower tugged at the nail with the claw of her hammer. She really had to strain, but she finally got it out. “This is hard,” she complained. Bridget swung the metal detector along the tree again. It beeped in a different place. “Serves you right. You should have thought of that before you spiked a tree.” She pointed at a nailhhead. “Take that one out. How many nails did you put in each tree?” “Depends on the tree.” They spend several hours pulling out the nails. Bridget had to help pull the nails. It was very tedious work, but the made process across the forest. They were at the last tree when Bridget felt a strong hand grab her from behind and clamp her mouth shut. She couldn’t make a sound, but she could still hear. A scurrying figure ran through the woods carrying Dave’s metal detector. She got into Bridget’s car and sped off. “Coward,” she thought. Flower had abandoned her hear with neither her car, nor Dave’s metal detector. Her captor dragged her backward away from the path where she had driven into the forest. ### “Look what I caught?” said her captor. He pushed her into the middle of a logging camp. A man with an axe across his knees stood up and frowned. “I caught me a tree spiker.” He held Dave’s crowbar and a handful of bent nails. “No, I’m not,” said Bridget. “There were two of them, but one got away.” “I’m not a tree spiker. I was pulling nails out of the trees, Bridget said. “Sure,” said another logger. “Hey let’s spike her to a tree.” Two of the loggers lifted her up and slammed her back against the trunk of a pretty solid pine tree. Another took one of the straighter spikes and pressed it in the fleshy bit beneath her left collar bone. He pulled the hammer back to strike. Bridget didn’t know what hit her first: the smell or the mushy feeling as her bowels emptied themselves into her diaper. She screamed when she saw the hammer start to come down. “Stop! What are you doing?” a voice yelled. She couldn’t see who it belonged to due to the glare of the flashlight he was holding. The hammer about to smash a nail into her shoulder stopped as the angry lumberjack looked behind him. “We caught this terrorist spiking trees.” He still had one hand holding her off her feet with her back against the tree. “So, we’ll call the police. We aren’t going to hurt people. We aren’t tree-spiking terrorists,” said the man with the flashlight. “I wasn’t spiking trees,” said Bridget. “I was pulling spikes out.” “Sure,” said another of the lumberjacks. He held up the Yahoo map she had taken from Flower. “She mapped the area she was spiking out. It looks like she covered the area we were going to cut in the morning.” “We had a friend die cutting a spiked tree,” said another wood cutter. He held up his chainsaw in a menacing manner. “Then you know why I had to stop it,” said Bridget. She grabbed at the strong arm holding her against a tree. “I found out they spiked the area earlier and I had to reverse the damage. My best friend in high school, Lia: well her father died because of some tree spiker. I didn’t want it to happen to anyone else.” “Angela, is that you?” asked the guy with the flashlight. “You know her?” asked the lumberjack who had almost spiked her to the tree and scared her so bad she shit in her diaper. “Yes, it’s me,” she said, “and I can prove I didn’t spike the trees. I brought a metal detector and a crowbar. I didn’t even have a hammer.” “I found a crowbar. I didn’t find a metal detector or a hammer for that matter,” said another lumberjack. “I found a bag of bent nails though.” “Yeah, I know her,” said the flashlight holding man. He stepped forward and Bridget saw that it was Derek Stevens. “She’s Lia’s friend that I went to prom with. You can put her down, Ogre.” When Ogre let her down her hands shot to the back of her pants. Her jeans covered up her diapers, but there was a big smelly bulge. She almost would rather be impaled to the tree that let Derek see her like this. Still, he came forward and took her by the arm. “Are you okay? You look really pale.” Then his nose wrinkled as the smell hit him. “I got really scared,” she whined. The tears began to flow. She had loved him at prom and now he saw how disgusting she could be. “Ogre, you made her shit her pants,” said Derek. “Go get her some coveralls or something to wear.” He took out a big red hankerchief and wiped her eyes. “Come on. I will try to get you somewhere to clean up and then Ogre will bring you some clean clothes.” She waddled beside him as he led her through the woods until they got to the logging camp. He led her straight through it and down toward the river. “You can clean up here and I will bring you your new clothes.” Bridget only stared at the slowly moving creek. “Do you need help?” Bridget shook her head and Derek started to walk away. He looked back and then started walking toward her again. “Angela, are you wearing a diaper?” This was not what she needed. She loved Derek ever since prom and she didn’t want to disappoint him. She just nodded. “I just need them for bed.” After getting another good whiff of herself she added. “I never poop my pants during the day. I was only wearing one out here in the woods because I found out about the tree spiking I had to stop at the last minute and I didn’t have time to change.” “It’s okay,” he said. “The diapers will be our secret.” She turned to thank him, but he had disappeared into the wood. She walked down to the water and peeled off her clothes. It wasn’t really that bad. Her jeans were just a bit stained from a little leak, but she had to take off the diaper. It was pretty disgusting. She got naked, rolled up the diaper and went down into the river. Being in the river was chilly at night. It was early September, but the water had come down from ice capped mountains and she shivered as soon as she stepped into the water. The desire to be clean instead of poopy overwhelmed her desire to be warm and she plunged in neck deep into the water and let the current wash her clean. She could see the pinkening of the sky as the sun began to rise and she that she was okay from the experience. She did see a bruise beginning on her sternum where Ogre held her against the tree, but that would cause no lasting damage. When she felt that she was clean again, she noticed footsteps. Derek came out of the woods carrying a bundle. “I’ll leave the stuff right here,” he said. He put down the bundle and picked up her dirty diaper and put it in a plastic bag and put her clothes in a different bag and took them away. Bridget crawled onto the river bank and grabbed the towel and dried herself. Then she slid on the coveralls, and pulled on her socks and shoes again. The coveralls were a bit baggy and smelled of sawdust, but that was better than smelling like poop. She wondered where to go next, but then Derek returned for her. “So here is the deal,” he said. “We got to cut those trees before the day ends. I can’t take you home until afterward.” “Sure that is fine. You got to let me help though. I really want to make the terrorist pay for what he’s done and cutting trees will work will be sure to make him mad.” “The terrorist? It sounds like you are talking about a particular person.” “I am,” said Bridget. “But you can’t say anything. He is mine. He ruined my life and I will make him pay.” Derek backed away a bit. So angry was her voice at the thought of the terrorist that she really didn’t realize what she looked like when she got into her rage against the killer. “Angela?” “Sorry, I am just taking it personal.” She paused. “Bridget got out.” Derek began to get worried. “Who is Bridget?” “You got to promise you will not tell anyone. I’ve told no one about this and you wondered at prom how I seemed to act so grown up.” “Yes, and I promise I can keep this quiet.” “Well, it is not like anyone will believe you if you repeat this, but I am not really Angela Murphy. In fact...” ### It was over an hour before they got back to camp. Chainsaws buzzed through the forest. She saw the tops of trees sway and then fall over, but she had to tell Derek everything. He had so many questions. “So will you help me take out Owl? I am not sure how I can fight him myself. Last time we struggled, well, innocent people got hurt.” “You keep blaming yourself and second guessing yourself,” he said. “No wonder you have nightmares and the unfortunate wetting issues.” “Yeah,” she said, “and did I mention that I piss my pants in fear every time I see the terrorist and he happens to be my roommate’s uncle?” “And when he gets his just desserts you can think you will stop wetting?” Bridget nodded. “Well, I will see what I can do to help you.” He looked around. “I liked Lia’s father and I want to make your terrorist pay.” The two walked out into the work area and Derek put her to work. She was given a chainsaw and told to cut the branches off the trees that had already been cut down. She smiled as Derek let her to do other work. Working in the timber industry was difficult. The branches were quite large, but the chainsaw easily cut through them. It took over an hour just to delimb one tree. By the time she started on the next tree, Ogre came up to her. He watched her work for a while. “You’re doing fine.” Bridget nodded. The large man still frightened her and it would probably take some time until she got the image of him trying to nail her to the tree. She continued to cut away the branches of the tree she was working on. “Well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” He tried to look away, but then he looked at her again. “I mean you wouldn’t be helping us out if you were lying. Well I mean I am sorry I tried to hurt you and I am sorry I embarrassed you.” Bridget couldn’t stay angry. If she thought someone was working for the same people that were responsible for the death of Lia’s father, she would have attacked them. “I accept your apology,” she said. He seemed relieved and then he walked away. ### Derek was true to his word. It took a long time to cut the trees and get them ready for transport. It took even longer to get the logs loaded up on the logging trucks. The trucks also had to make sever trips. By the time they had finished, it was nine at night. “Thank you for helping us out,” said Derek. “We’ve been a bit short handed.” “No problem,” said Bridget. “Weren’t you supposed to be at MIT?” “Well, the instructor for one of my classes left and I will have to wait until next semester to take it, so I just am taking a semester off,” he said. “I came home to help my dad out.” “Oh.” Bridget smiles and held on to Derek’s hand. “I am glad you were here today.” He put her arm around Bridget. “I am glad you are here too, Angela.” He paused a moment and then frowned. “Or do you want me to call you Bridget?” Bridget thought for a minute. She had been used to going by Angela Murphy the past five months, but inside she was still the same woman who was victimized by the terrorist. Actually Angela was fighting back while Bridget was cowering in the cab of her truck letting the terrorist drive it into a school. “I’d better stick to being Angela. People might ask questions.” “Good.” He rubbed her back and let his hand slip down to her waist. “I am used to calling you Angela any way.” ### Bridget sat in the passenger seat of Derek’s pickup truck. She still wore the coveralls and in her lap she held the plastic bag that held her clothes. “So should I take you back to the dorm,” he asked her. Bridget thought for a minute. “I’d rather hear your plan for catching the terrorist.” “Well if you could get him to break into my house,” he said, “we could shoot him as a burglar.” “He’s an eco-terrorist, not a common crook,” said Bridget. “Yeah, you’re right,” said Derek. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” “Well, I still would like to discuss our plans,” said Bridget. “Well, how about you stay with me? I can wash your clothes and then take you home tomorrow.” “I’d like that,” she said. They continued driving. ### Bridget put on one of Derek’s button down shirts over a pair of shorts. It felt funny wearing shorts with no panties, but she trusted Derek. Or at least she decided she didn’t care it something did happen. She emerged from his bedroom and handed him the coveralls and her socks. “Ta-da. How do I look?” Derek took her dirty clothes and smiled. “You look very sexy.” Bridget looked down. The shirt came down well below her shorts. She did feel a bit sexy. “Sit down on the couch,” said Derek. “I am going to wash your clothes.” He left the room and Bridget just sat until he returned. ### They had been talking for over an hour. Derek’s hand had wandered up the leg of her shorts. She adjusted her position to accommodate his hand and she turned toward him with raised lips. He returned her kiss and he really was a good kisser. He gave the right amount of tongue, the right amount of pressure, and held her under for the right amount of time. His hand had found its way to pleasure her and she began to moan. She quivered in his arms and she felt incredible horny. “Take me,” she begged. “Shall we adjourn to the bedroom?” he asked. “Yes,” she said. She was so aroused she could barely walk. The shorts she wore were damp about her crotch and it wasn’t from pee. “Hurry,” she said. Derek carried her to the bedroom and lay her on the bed. The shirt came off and so did her shorts. He opened the door of the night stand and shuffled around inside. “What are you doing?” she asked. She wanted him to pay attention to her, not to something else, but she watched until he presented a condom which he held up with triumph. ### She lay with her head on his chest as he held her in bed. “I could lie down here like this all night,” said Derek. “I planned to put you up in a sleeping bag on the floor, but I’d rather you stay in bed with me.” Bridget smiled. She felt wonderful and really wanted to fall asleep in Derek’s arms. Still she remembered her night time problem. “Oh, Derek, I hate to put a damper on the night, but I don’t have my diapers. I am afraid I might wet the bed if I sleep here.” Derek frowned. “Oh, I forgot.” He felt the mattress and then put his arm around her. “I’m not worried. Just run to the bathroom now before we go to sleep.” Bridget did as she was told and returned to Derek’s arms were she fell asleep. She had had a long and strenuous day. She hoped she was too tired to dream. Bridget woke up screaming from her dream. It was getting worse, not better. Her plans for revenge against the terrorist and worries for how she would accomplish it combined with the memory of the tanker truck combined to make her nightmare worse than ever. She awoke in a puddle in a strange bed and looked around in a panic. Derek still lay asleep next to her. She felt the sheets between them and found to her horror that the wetness extended between them. “Oh crap.” She never had anything like this happen to her. Every time she had wet the bed before, she had been alone. She never had shared something like this with a boyfriend. She was sure he would react in horror. Derek stirred and then frowned when he noticed the puddle. “I’m sorry,” said Bridget. He scooted next to her and put an arm around her. “Well, it’s not like you didn’t warn me,” he said. He looked down at the puddle. “Well, we may as well get up.” Bridget got out of the bed and looked down at herself. The white shirt she borrowed from Derek was yellowed around the bottom. She glanced at Derek and blushed. “I’ll take care of the bedding while you take a shower,” he said. He started sweeping up the sheets from the bed and threw them in a basket. Bridget blushed when Derek removed the sheets and she saw the wet spot on the mattress pad. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It will clean up.” He waved his arm toward the door. “Now go; shower.” He smiled. Bridget turned and headed toward the bathroom. She unbuttoned Derek’s shirt and dropped her borrowed shorts to the floor and stepped in the shower. She turned on the water and let it run over her shoulders. As she scrubbed herself clean and soaped herself, she thought about how nice Derek seemed nice about the wet bed, but wasn’t sure how long he would want to put up with her bedwetting. Even when she came prepared with her night time protection when she slept over next time. But as long as he did she was happy that he seemed to like her. When she got out to dry herself, she noticed that her clothes from yesterday. Derek must have come in and laid them out for her when he got her soiled nice clothes. She smiled as she reached for the clothes and put them to her nose. The smelled fresh from the detergent he used to wash them the night before. There would be no walk of shame this morning for her. She dressed. It felt funny not wearing any underwear. She hadn’t had time to put on a bra when she left Friday night and she had just pulled her jeans on over her diaper. Now she just had her bare skin against the jeans and she hoped she didn’t have another accident. Derek was making the bed with fresh sheets when she returned from the bathroom. She went to the bed and patted the middle with her hand. “It’s dry,” he said. “It didn’t soak through the mattress pad. It’s waterproof.” He put his arm around her and gave her a kiss. “Why did you have a waterproof mattress pad?” asked Bridget. “I bought it by mistake,” he smiled. The mattress pad had looked cloth and there was no evidence of any plastic on it. “It turned out to be a happy mistake, especially if you stay over more often.” Bridget’s face burned with embarrassment. “I’m sure you won’t be wanting to do washing every time I stay over.” “Well, no,” he admitted. “Maybe you could wear a diaper like you had when I found you in the woods.” Bridget felt herself blush again. Her face felt so hot that she thought it might melt. The thought of Derek seeing her, of smelling her, wearing a shitty diaper was too much. “Not just like that,” she said. He kissed her. “You want some breakfast?” She held on to him and returned the kiss, adding more tongue. “Not just yet,” she breathed when she finally got her breath. She pulled him on top of her when she fell back onto the bed. ### When they finished, her jeans had a slippery wet spot on them about the size of a saucer. She blushed. It wasn’t pee and it didn’t stain her jeans. It just felt uncomfortable. “I think it’s cute,” said Derek. She stuck out her tongue. “You would.” She followed him down the stairs to the kitchen and took a seat in one of the chairs. “I’ll cook for you,” he said. He opened a box of Pop Tarts and put them in the toaster and then joined her in the next chair. “Do you want to stay over again?” “Umm.” “I thought of a way to get the terrorist to break into the place I’ve been fixing up.” “Oh?” said Bridget. “I got some land,” he said. “There is a cute little farm house and some sheds. It used to be a fur farm. If we can convince the terrorist it is full of furry animals awaiting slaughter, he will probably try to raid the place.” “Then,” said Bridget, “he is burglarizing the place and we can claim self defense when we get him.” “Yes,” said Derek. “Do you have a gun I can borrow?” she asked. “Angela,” he looked at her sternly. “He ruined my life more. I get to do it.” “Yeah, there is a revolver in my night stand.” He looked like he was reluctant about the whole thing. “Cool,” she said. “You’ll need to teach me to shoot it. I am a little rusty since I haven’t shot a gun for years and never a revolver.” “Maybe this is a bad idea,” said Derek. “The terrorist killed children and I was blamed for it,” she said. “You don’t think it would do me any good to go to the police and tell them everything? If they believed me, I would go back to jail. If they didn’t, well it wouldn’t stop the terrorist either.” Derek sighed. “Well let’s think about pleasant things until we have to take you back home.” He pulled her in for a kiss. ### Bridget knocked on the door to her dorm room. Her keys were on her key ring and Flower had stolen it along with her car. She knocked again and Flower opened the door. “Angela?” “Yes, it’s me.” She pushed past her and entered her room. “What did you think you were doing leaving me like that?” Flower looked down. “Well, I--” “Well, I nothing. What happened to my car? What happened to my keys? What happened to Dave Matthews’ metal detector?” “I parked your car in the parking lot.” She handed me the keys. “Dave came by for the metal detector and I gave it back to him. What happened? What did they do to you?” “Oh good. I don’t want Dave to be mad at me,” Bridget said. “So how did you get away from the lumberjacks?” asked Flower. “I didn’t,” she said. That was the truth, but she wanted to work on Flower’s guilty conscious. “They turned me over to the police and my parents had to come get me. They are not happy with me either. My dad almost pulled me out of college.” “I’m so sorry,” said Flower. “Maybe you will think about the consequences of committing crimes, even if it is for something like saving trees.” Bridget angrily turned into her closet and got out a clean outfit. “What are they charging you with?” asked Flower. “They agreed to drop the charges since it didn’t look like I had gotten to any tree to spike it yet. It was good I got all the nails out before they caught us.” Bridget thought she had better give Flower a reprieve. She couldn’t spook her too much or else her plan to get the terrorist wouldn’t work. “Why were you wearing a diaper?” asked Flower. “I have bad dreams and it makes me wet the bed.” She gave Flower a stern look. “You will not repeat this to anyone.” “I promise.” “A wet diaper did not endear me to either the lumberjacks or the other inmates in the lockup.” “I’m so sorry,” said Flower. “That must have been so embarrassing. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” Bridget smiled. She thought about all the things she could do to Flower. Should she put her on a bacon diet? Make her stand there and wet her pants in front of Bridget, or better yet make her poop herself like Bridget had done Friday night? “I’ll think about how you can make things up to me. Until then, just keep the diapers a secret.” “I can do that, I think,” said Flower. “You’d better,” said Bridget. ### Bridget had been napping when she heard a knock at her door. She got up and threw on some shorts over her diaper and answered the door. It was Derek. “Oh hi,” she said and gave him a peck on the cheek. He returned her kiss with a full smooch and his hand reached behind her to pat her on the butt. His hand quickly sprang away when he felt something crinkle, but then he returned his hand to her bottom, this time beneath her shorts. Her door was wide open and she heard voices coming down the hallway. “Derek, stop,” she said. “Someone’s coming.” He made an oh expression of understanding and let go of her. He reached out into the hall and picked up the crowbar she had borrowed from Dave. “I thought I would return your crowbar.” He walked in and shut the door. “Thanks,” she said. “I had borrowed it.” “Well now that I am here....” He took her by the hand and sat on her bed and she sat next to him. They kissed. He seemed to have an interest in her diaper, so she finally gave up batting his had away. “I think they make you look adorable,” he said. “So your reason for liking me is not that I seem grown up anymore. It is now that I am childish.” Bridget frowned at him. “That is not it at all,” he said. He left her diaper alone and concentrated on what was under her shirt. “Is his better?” “Much,” she said. “I was taking a nap. That why I was diapered.” “I know. It’s the bad dreams. I don’t blame you at all.” He release her breast and straightened her shirt and just held her in his arms. “I am content for now,” said Bridget as she lay her head back against his shoulder. They talked for a few minutes until Flower came in the door. “Hey,” she said. “It’s almost 10:00. No guys allowed after 10:00.” She took a look at Derek’s thick arms and blushed. “Well you got about five minutes yet. Who is the hunk?” “Well this is Derek. He was my prom date. We just reconnected today.” Bridget smiled since she was in Derek’s arms. “Well, I got to get up early for work. Boss wants the stuff ready for a new shipment.” “Well call me,” Bridget said. After Derek left, Bridget pulled out her phone and called Dave Matthews. “Meet me downstairs. We got to talk.” ### Bridget went down to the lobby and waited crowbar in hand. “You wanted to see me?” he asked. “I just wanted to make sure you got your metal detector back okay,” she said. “I am sorry I didn’t get it back to you personally, but it was literally a matter of life or death. I returned it to my dorm room when I finished with it and was going to bring it to you as soon as I got back.” “I got it from your roommate,” he said. “Did you find anything with it?” “A bunch of bent nails.” “I am sorry that is all you found.” “I’m not,” said Bridget. “If I didn’t find those nails I am afraid someone would have gotten hurt.” “Well, okay,” he said. He sounded confused. “Oh, here is your crowbar.” “Good,” he said. “Flower didn’t know anything about it.” He took the crowbar from her. “If you need to borrow anything again, let me know if I can help. Maybe we could have found better things if I had gone with you.” “You sure my incontinence problem won’t bother you?” asked Bridget. “I meant as friends, Angela.” “I know you wanted more until you saw my pull-up fall out of my purse,” said Bridget. “I went home and cried.” “Angela,” he said, “I’m sorry, but aren’t you glad I found out before I asked you, than have me break up with you when I did find out. I do like you as friends and I don’t want to lose that.” “Well it doesn’t matter, I suppose,” she said. “I met a guy this weekend and he is my boyfriend now.” “Does he know about...?” “Yes he knows,” said Bridget, “but he likes me for who I am, not what I wear.” “Well, I am happy for you,” said Dave. “I am sorry about hurting your feelings.” “I am happy being friends with you, Dave. You saved my life by lending me the metal detector. I need to go to bed. Class is in the morning.” “Well goodnight.” She was already walking away toward the elevators. Soon the terrorist would not invade her dreams and she would wake up dry again. Flower carried the laundry baskets into the dorm room. “I got your laundry done.” She set the basket next to Bridget’s bed. Bridget looked up from her physics homework. “Thank you Flower.” “How long do I have to do your laundry until we are even?” she asked. “You volunteered to do my laundry,” said Bridget. “It is hardly a hardship compared to me going to jail for trying to keep you from facing a murder rap.” Asking Flower to do laundry once was the only time she took up the offer for Flower to make her experience up to her. Flower froze and a look of worry covered your face. “Anything else you want me to do?” “No,” said Bridget. She got stuck on a particular physics question and folded her assignment into her book. “I am going to go study with Ami now. If you want to join us you can.” “No,” said Flower. “I think Anise is coming over to study soon.” Bridget shivered. That Anise was creepy. She got up and left the dorm to meet with Ami. ### “So Ami,” said Bridget as the two sat in the library. “An object accelerates from rest on an inclined plane. The coefficient of friction is 0.23. How long does it take to get to the bottom?” “You got to add all your forces,” said Ami. “But I never did a friction problem before,” Bridget said. “Just multiply it to the mass and acceleration.” “Oh, duh,” said Bridget. She had done this many years before the first time she was in college. She should have remembered. If physics wasn’t so hard she would have remembered. She quickly figured out the problem and looked in the back of the book to make sure her answer matched what she got. “Anise is driving me nuts,” said Ami. “It’s not just the music anymore either. I walked in on her having sex.” “Eww,” said Bridget. “That’s not the worst of it,” she said. “I thought she was having a Lesbian moment because the person she was with had dyed black pigtails.” “Really?” “Well it turned out I just thought he was a girl. I never saw someone try to pull up their skinny jeans so awkwardly. He had to sit down for quite a bit before he could zip his pants.” “Ick, Ami.” Bridget covered her eyes. “Need mind bleach.” “It was pretty gross. So what are you doing this weekend?” “My new boyfriend and I are panting his new place,” said Bridget. “Cool,” said Ami. “You mind if help?” “Well I guess you can help.” She thought about Flower. If Flower knew where her boyfriend’s farm was, she might get suspicious when they were ready to set the trap. “You just can’t tell Flower. I really want a place where I can get away from her.” “Good point,” said Ami. “I wish I had a place to get away from Anise.” “I said you could come to my dorm room anytime she gets to you.” She frowned when she thought about the growing friendship between Flower and Anise. She had come home to Anise and Flower studying together.” “So did you tell your new boyfriend about your nighttime problem?” asked Ami. “I don’t know how I would broach the subject.” “He knows.” Bridget felt her face flush with warmth. “I didn’t tell him; he found out on his own.” “From the redness of your face, that must have been embarrassing.” Bridget nodded. “At least he was cool about it: especially when I ran out and he encouraged me to stay the night anyway. Talk about embarrassing.” Ami’s mouth opened in shock. “You didn’t pee on him in bed?” Bridget felt her face turn red again and nodded. “Well he is a keeper if he kept you after that.” “Thanks,” said Bridget. She did wonder how long he would put up with her. ### It was warm outside. Bridget dipped her brush in the paint and brushed it on the bare wood of the fence. The fence around the compound had decayed in places, but Derek had repaired it with new wood. “This place is pretty cool,” said Ami. “Thanks for letting me come along.” “No problem,” she said. “Derek and I had a lot of work to do to get this place in shape.” “How is the painting coming along,” asked Derek. “It’s coming,” said Bridget. “Well thanks for doing this Angela.” He turned to Ami. “And thank you Angela’s friend.” “No problem,” said Ami. “I’m just happy to see Angela with someone. She had an unhappy experience a few weeks ago when a guy found about her...” “Ami!” said Bridget. “Don’t go there.” “I like her anyway,” said Derek. “Besides she can’t help it.” “I’m right here,” said Bridget. “I know,” said Derek. He stood behind her and wrapped his strong lumberjack arms around her. “She’s a keeper,” he said to Ami. Bridget leaned back against Derek and he tightened his grip on her. “How long do you think it will take before we are ready?” Bridget asked. The sheds still needed paint. Derek had spent the morning scraping the old paint off. It was pretty much down to the bare wood. “A few more weeks I think,” he said. “We do need to paint the sheds today before we can call it a day.” “Well, let’s get started,” said Ami. The sheds were not really that tall. Ami and Bridget were able to paint all the way up to the eves without a latter. The ends of the sheds were different. The highest point in the shed was about twelve feet tall. Derek got on a ladder and painted that part. When they finally finished, Bridget was starved. “I’m hungry,” she said. “Yeah, we skipped lunch,” said Derek, “but I will make it up to you and take you both out to eat.” “Cool,” said Ami. “I’m thinking Mexican,” said Bridget. “What do you think of Rancho Viejo?” asked Derek. “Good enough,” she said. ### The server brought them their plates and Bridget smiled. “Ooh, I can’t wait to eat this.” “Looks good to me too, Angela,” said Ami. She stuck her fork in her burrito and it was so hot that steam came out from where it was opened. “I’d wait a bit to take a bite there, Ami,” said Derek. “It looks hot.” “I think I can handle it. Thai food gets hotter and I eat that a lot,” said Ami. “Temperature, not spiciness,” said Bridget. “Oh.” Ami blew on her burrito and then frowned. “Thanks. I would have hated to discover that after I put it in my mouth.” The meals cooled and they were able to eat them before too long. “So what is next on the agenda today?” asked Bridget. “Well we got to visit that farm and look around. Also, weren’t you going to paint the sign?” asked Derek. “Yeah,” said Bridget. “I have the perfect logo planned.” “What is the sign for?” asked Ami. “We were going to give the place a cute whimsical feel,” said Bridget. The last thing she wanted anyone to find out about was the sign. The plan called for burning the sign as soon as she had taken down the terrorist. The last thing she needed was for the police to find out they had lured the terrorist there. “There might be questions that would take her actions out of the realm of self defense. She wouldn’t let that stop her. Owl was the terrorist who crashed her tanker truck into a school. He had to pay. “I always thought signs on farms that aren’t really farms are kind of kitschy,” said Ami. “Maybe the sign isn’t a good idea after all,” said Derek. He took her hand and squeezed it.” “I guess,” she said and pouted. “I just have to decorate all the other rooms in the farmhouse with kitsch.” She smiled. “Maybe put one of those old-women-bending-over decorations in the garden. How does that sound?” Ami shook her head. “What are you like forty?” she asked. Bridget panicked. She was in her forties now that she thought about it. Still, Angela’s body was still nineteen years old. “What do you mean?” she asked. “How old do I look?” She started to shake. She skipped the pull-up because she didn’t anticipate seeing the terrorist and she was wearing sexy new panties for Derek. She started to wet herself. “I mean, my mother likes that kitsch.” “Oh,” said Bridget. She managed to stop peeing, but wasn’t sure she was still dry. She had to pee even worse now that she had let some out. “Excuse me.” She got up and hurried to the bathroom. The whole time she was careful to keep her butt pointed away from the center of the dining room. When she looked in the mirror, her butt was soaked. There was a wet spot the size of a luncheon plate. She sighed. It could have been worse. She went to a stall and sat down. She wonder what to do. She left all her clothes at Derek’s farm. They had come here in Ami’s little red car. Maybe she had clothes though. Bridget always kept a change of clothes in the trunk of her Ford Crown Vic, but that was too far away. At least the jeans were black. She finished peeing and examined her red and white checked lacy panties that matched her red and white checked lacy bra. Hopefully it would dry before Derek began to feel playful. She sprayed a bit of perfume in the crotch of her panties so she wouldn’t smell bad, but she was pretty wet despite soaking most of it up with toilet paper. She emerged from the bathroom and returned to Ami and Derek. Fortunately they were finished and Derek was just paying the check. ### “See you, Ami,” said Bridget as she left in her own car. She shivered. Her peed jeans were starting to get cold. Fortunately she was able to climb into Derek’s warm pick-up. It was hot all day so her pants would probably dry in no time. Eastern Washington was almost a desert. They drove along for quite some time. Bridget kept stealing chances to brush the denim material around her crotch and bottom. She was getting dryer and dryer as they drove along. Finally they pulled into a place that said, “Maryland Albright Fur Farm.” They got out. Bridget noticed one thing right away. There were rows upon rows of long sheds instead of only two like Derek’s farm had. Also there were the sounds. “What is making that horrible noise,” she asked. A woman with two men on either side came out of the shed. “What can we do for you?” They didn’t look very friendly. One of the men had a pitch fork and she could see the other had a lump at his underarm that was probably a concealed handgun. “I’m Derek Stevens,” he said. “I thought I was expected.” Her demeanor changed immediately. She smiled and extended a hand. “I am Maryland Albright,” she said. She waved off the men. “We didn’t know who you were. If we didn’t guard this place twenty-four seven, then some fools might come and let all the animals out of their cages.” “I understand,” said Bridget. “We got sent a death threat and we hadn’t even got out starting shipment yet.” She spit on the ground. “We just put up our shingle and wham: we were instantly swarmed but eco-nuts.” “You two are awfully young to start out a new farm,” the lady said. “Well I inherited 100 mink from a distant uncle,” said Derek. “I thought I would give it a go.” “Well, that will make two coats,” said the lady. “We are just starting out,” said Bridget. “Derek said that you promised to show us the ropes.” “Sure. Follow me.” True to her word, the woman showed them everything. The sounds were unbearable. The mink screeched and shuffled in their cages. They could even hear the mink outside the sheds. Bridget grabbed Derek by the shirt and whispered, “Give me your iPhone.” He handed it to her. “I ask that you not take pictures in here,” the lady said. “I’m not,” said Bridget. “I just got a text from a friend.” She tapped a few keys and turned on the sound recorder before slipping the phone in her purse. At the end of the tour they got to see where they killed the mink. There was blood everywhere. She got to see a device in action that shocked the mink to death. A machine next to it skinned the mink. She recognized the electrocution machine from the shed. The one in Derek’s farm was rusted and old, while this one was brand new. She felt sick to her stomach. Sure, the mink were just animals, but she didn’t want to watch them die. The whole purpose of this tour was to find out if there were details she was lacking in setting her trap. The sound was something she hadn’t thought about that was an important detail. She hadn’t thought about the blood either, but that wasn’t something she wanted or even needed to duplicate. “Derek, can we go?” she said. “You haven’t seen how we tan and clean the hides,” said the lady. “You need to know that part if you are going to be successful in this business.” “Go to the truck,” he said. “I’ll learn the rest of what we need to learn.” Bridget left and finally made it to the truck. She sat and waited for Derek for another couple of hours. ### “Well thank you, Maryland, for showing us the ropes. Sorry about my fiancé. She’s a bit squeamish.” “No problem, kid,” she said to Derek. “She’ll get used to it after awhile.” “No, I won’t,” said Bridget when Derek got into the truck. “You won’t, what?” “Get used to it. Intellectually I knew they killed the mink for fur. Mink are mean things too, so I have no sympathy for them, but I didn’t know there was all that blood and I didn’t imagine that mink were killed like they did.” He pulled the truck onto the highway and they took off back to his place. “You want to forget this and come up with another plan?” “No, we got what we need,” said Bridget. The recording of live mink was all they needed to bait the trap. Bridget had saved that on his iPhone. They would be ready. “If you’re okay with it,” he said. “I’m fine. You just have to stop somewhere soon because I got to pee.” “You didn’t go at the farm?” he asked. “No,” said Bridget. “You were with me the whole time until I went back to the truck.” “Well I went after that.” “Jerk,” she said. “I didn’t say we weren’t stopping,” said Derek. “You better stop.” He pulled into the next gas station and Bridget ran into the bathroom. She couldn’t help thinking he was turned on by her predicament. ### The two finally arrived back at Derek’s house. “Are you spending the night?” he asked. Bridget nodded nervously. The last time had been a disaster, but he had been night about the wet bed. This time she had brought diapers, but that was a different thing. She had also brought her own pajamas to wear to bed. She thought they would play it by ear. “Good,” he said. “How about I give you some ice cream?” He left her in the living room while he went to the kitchen. Soon Derek had returned with the ice cream. “I thought you would like mint chocolate chip.” He brought the two bowls and set them on the coffee table. The two sat at the love seat. “Do you think our plan will work?” she asked Derek. He nodded. “You have nothing to worry about.” He put an arm around her. Bridget took a bite of her ice cream. “This is my favorite ice cream. All it is missing is some pie.” Derek put a hand over her stomach. It was flat and smooth. “Well, you have room for pie. Unfortunately, I don’t have any.” She knew her own stomach as Bridget Addison hadn’t been that smooth. At least with the younger body she could eat better. However, she found herself full much quicker since becoming Angela. She knew she would probably too full for pie anyway after she finished the ice cream. The being young again was the only advantage of this whole situation. She felt the guilt come back over stealing the youth from Angela. She reached under his shirt and put her hand on his six pack. At least he had a job with exercise. That might change when he finished school and took an engineering job. She hoped not, but she also hoped she was not so superficial that something like that would matter. Besides, she would not stay young forever. Angela would eventually grow older. She didn’t know how they ever concentrated on finishing their ice cream, but as soon as the bowls were empty their arms were around each other and their mouths were too busily intertwined to talk. Bridget reached up and unbuttoned Derek’s shirt and slid it off his shoulders. At the same time she felt her pants being unzipped and she lifted her but to ease the removal of her pants. “Did you have an accident earlier?” he asked. She looked down. Her panties, although dry, were stained yellow. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Had she finally grossed him out. “Yes,” she admitted. “It was in the restaurant at lunch.” “Why didn’t you say something earlier? You could have changed into something more comfortable.” His arms were around her. He pulled up her t-shirt, exposing her breasts, and dried her tears with the corner. “Are you sure you want someone like me, Derek?” It was one thing wetting at night. She probably should have worn the pull-ups for daytime, but she hadn’t because she wanted to wear her matching bra and panties for Derek. “Because you wet your pants earlier?” he asked. Bridget nodded and bit her lip in anticipation of what he was going to say. Derek held her tightly in his arms. She shivered slightly as she sat on his lap in her underwear. Her pants were pulled down so her panties were completely exposed. “I can’t say that the daytime accidents thrilled me,” he said, “but I am more worried about how bad they make you feel.” He squeezed her tightly. “I am not letting you go over something like this.” She had both hands around his neck, but she squeezed tightly. Then she leaned back and separated her legs slightly as Derek’s hand slipped inside her slightly damp panties. ### She moaned in short little bursts and thrashed as she came, then her body relaxed in Derek’s arms. “Hold me,” she said. She relaxed as he held her close until her breathing returned to normal. “You got a long day tomorrow finishing your sign and setting up,” he said. “How about we take showers and we go to bed.” “Yeah,” she said, “I got homework too.” She reluctantly disengaged from Derek and picked up her clothes from the floor before walking upstairs naked to the shower. The hot water cleaned the sweat, dry pee, and cum from her body. She scrubbed until she knew her skin was clean. Then she got out of the shower and dried off. She pulled a diaper from her bag and put it on. A t-shirt went over that. The she looked in the mirror. Her diaper stuck out obviously from the bottom of her t-shirt. She had thought the shirt would cover it. Well maybe if she hurried and got under the covers. She left the bathroom and headed to the bedroom. Derek was already there in boxer shorts. His wet hair showed he had showered in the other bathroom. She just peeked around corner and she felt her face heat up with more embarrassment. “Well come on in,” he said. Bridget pulled the front of her shirt down the best she could as she entered the bedroom. She looked down at her feet. Derek had felt her diapers in her dorm room, but this was the first time she had been in front of him with her diapers not covered by shorts or anything. He got up and pulled her gently toward the bed. “You know, I think it’s cute.” “Really,” asked Bridget. “Yeah.” “You don’t think I am a big disgusting baby?” She looked into his eyes and then glanced down at the bulge in his boxers. “Are you turned on by me being dressed like this?” “A little. I am more turned on by how shy and embarrassed you are.” He hopped in bed and pulled the blankets up to make room for her. She hopped in beside him and let him spoon her. “Okay,” he said. “No nightmares because I have you in my arms.” ### No nightmares was optimistic. Owl invaded her sleep. The whole plan went off as planned until it became time to act. The gun, which she held in her hand, refused to go off as she tried to shoot the terrorist. He then got away and the lights went out. As she was looking for him he found her first. Arms reached out of the darkness and grabbed her around the waist. She struggled. “I got you know and you are going to pay,” said Owl. He let go with one hand and grabbed a knife and pulled it across her neck. “You won’t be bothering me anymore.” She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. The only muscle that moved was her bladder muscles releasing her pee into her diaper. “Don’t worry; it’s me,” said Derek. “It was only a dream.” Bridget woke covered with a layer of sweat. Her diaper was warm about her middle and she knew it was wet.” It was still dark in the room and night time, but Derek was there. “So what happens now?” he asked. “Do you need me to change you or do you just wait until morning.” Bridget felt her diaper. She was in no danger of leaking, but she didn’t want Derek to be grossed out by her wet diaper. “I’d rather you just hold me until I get back to sleep, but I will defer to your wishes if you’d rather I change.” His arms held her as they lay intertwined. His hand pressed against the still warm crotch of her diaper. Then it settled around her waist. They drifted off to sleep. ### Bridget smiled as she drew the cartoon characters on the sign. A smiling anthropomorphic mink stood beside a smiling anthropomorphic rabbit. The mink was dressed in rabbit skins and the rabbit wore a mink coat. She lettered below it, “The Cuddly Creatures Fur Farm.” “I like it,” said Derek. “I needed something light and happy after yesterday,” she said. She wasn’t one to think about where things came from. Fur coats came from expensive stores on Rodeo Drive. Besides real minks were mean and they hissed. “Was it something about us?” asked Derek. “No, it was the other fur farm,” she said. “It was too much, like taking a tour of a sausage factory. I don’t want to see how it is done.” “Understood,” he said. “I think your picture is pretty good.” “Now how do we get the terrorist to attack us?” she asked. “I have the perfect plan,” said Derek. “I think Ogre has the perfect costume for this. I will have to check his schedule.” Bridget woke up in her dorm room from her usual nightmare. She screamed before realizing she was inside her dorm. “Enough already,” said Flower. “Every morning for two almost two months, you have been waking me up with screaming. I am sick of it.” Bridget sat up in bed. “I’m sorry,” she moaned, as she started to get up. Since Flower now knew about the diapers, she didn’t bother covering them. She turned back to Flower. “You know what?” she asked. Her voice had an angry edge to it. I am sick of it too. I am also sick of wetting the bed every single night because my dreams are so horrible and so intense because of an event that happened in my life years ago.” “That does sound horrible,” said Flower. “Maybe you need to relax more.” “That’d be nice except we are engineering students,” said Bridget. “Well it is Saturday and I am going back to sleep,” said Flower. “I have a party to go to.” “I’m going to try to get up. I’ll take a nap later.” Bridget sighed when she looked down at her wet diaper. It had been over a month since she and Derek had set up their fake fur farm and Bridget had yet to get close enough to the terrorist to dangle the bait in his face. Flower hadn’t even mentioned her uncle. In fact it was going to be the first of November tomorrow, which meant today was Halloween. “Oh crap,” she said. “I’m going to need a costume.” “Yeah, I got mine last month,” said Flower. “It is really me. What are you going as? We did get invited to the party a Sigma Nu.” “I’ll think of something,” she said. “Good,” said Flower, “then maybe I can sleep in a bit.” ### “So Ami,” said Bridget. “I need a costume. Let’s go shopping at Goodwill.” “Sure,” said Ami. “but do you really think that a thrift store would have Halloween costumes?” “Why not?” asked Bridget. “Well don’t they just sell old stuff?” “Yeah,” said Bridget. “You’d be surprised all the stuff that you can make costumes out of at a thrift store.” Ami and Bridget got into her black Crown Vic and Bridget drove to the nearest thrift store. They walked in and looked around. “I’ve never been to one of these,” said Ami. She looked around at all the racks of clothing and shelves full of used merchandise. She pointed. “Look. A computer graveyard.” “You never went to a place like this?” “Nope. My mother taught me to buy new at a department store.” “Well we got to educate you. Come on look at all this stuff.” Bridget skipped down the aisles to the women’s accessories and started picking up and modeling purses. “Should I go as a bag lady?” Ami giggled. She picked up a pair of boots. “Oh cool. Hooker boots. I can go to the party dressed as a hooker.” “There is the spirit. But are you sure you want to dress like a hooker?” “Or I could dress emo?” “Please don’t,” said Bridget. “Yeah. One Anise is more than enough.” Bridget looked on a table and saw something catch her eye. “Oh, cool,” she said. She picked up a cap and put it on. “I used to have a Chevron hat just like this when I--” She cut herself off just in time. “When you what?” asked Ami. “When I lived near a Chevron,” she finished. “You wore a Chevron trucker hat?” asked Ami. “Well, yeah,” she said. She really did wear the Chevron hat when she drove her tanker truck. She decided not to mention that to Ami. “Well I am board and I want to go,” said Ami. “I am a store-bought costume type of gal.” “Hold on,” said Bridget. “Let’s look at those computers.” “Fine,” said Ami. The computers were junk. There was not a single computer there that looked like it would run Linux on just to experiment, let alone find a use to justify its space. “You were right. I see nothing here.” “Now can we go?” “Wait.” A familiar black box caught her eye. One of the staff had put a Cobra CB radio with the computers. She had had a model like that. It was a rather expensive radio, but the price only read $10.00. She picked it up. “I’m getting this.” “What is it?” “It’s a CB radio,” she said, “and it’s a steal.” She walked back, picked up the trucker hat, and then walked down the aisle to find a flannel shirt. “What is all this stuff?” asked Ami. “My costume. I am going as a sexy trucker.” She laid the stuff on the counter and paid. “Finally we can go to a real costume shop,” said Ami. ### The costume shop at the mall was crowded. Still Ami wanted to look. “I’ll meet you in the car,” said Bridget. She left and went to Radio Shack and bought a CB antenna. The sales person gave her a funny look, but she ignored him. She couldn’t wait to rush out to her car. When she got to the parking lot she hooked up the antenna. Since her car was a former police car, it already had a place to mount it. She wired it in there and then fished the wire under the carpet of her car toward the driver’s seat. It was just a matter of time before she got the CB radio mounted underneath the instrument panel of her car. By the time she finished, Ami came back and got in the car. She had a bag from the Halloween store. “What costume did you decide on?” “I will reveal all at the party,” said Ami,” but not until then.” “Fine.” “So what did you do? You seem pretty excited.” “Watch.” Bridget flipped the switch on her CB and turned it to channel 19. All the sudden she could hear truckers talking inside her car. “Truckers?” asked Ami. “Yeah. I got to learn the lingo since I am going as a sexy trucker.” Bridget smiled. She missed talking on the CB the way she used to when she drove a truck. They pulled on the road and Bridget started driving. “This is a side of you I haven’t seen before,” said Ami. “Well, if a costume is worth wearing, it is worth learning the part,” said Bridget. “Whatever.” Bridget pulled up behind a UPS semi truck going at a slow rate of speed. She picked up her CB mike and keyed it. “Breaker 1-9, Buster Brown, I’m knocking at your back door trying to get around.” “Go ahead, four wheeler.” Bridget pulled around the truck and smiled. She watched as Ami waved at the driver. Ami turned back to her. “You need to learn the lingo?” She raised her eyebrows and gave her a skeptical look. “Sounds like you knew the lingo ahead of time.” “Well, I watched Convoy and Smokey and the Bandit.” “I know Smokey and the Bandit,” said Ami. “Burt Reynolds was a hottie. Never heard of Convoy though.” “Convoy is another trucker movie.” “I thought so,” said Ami. Bridget pulled into the campus and parked her vehicle. “Well, we are here. Come get me before you go to the party.” Ami got her stuff and started to leave. “I’ll do that.” Bridget was excited about the party. She smiled and got her bag of stuff from good will. She looked in the car and looked at the CB. She disconnected the microphone and brought it in with her. ### At about eight that evening there was a knock at the door. “They’re here,” said Flower. She grabbed her headband and tied it on under her chin. There were petals around the headband and chin strap, which combined with her green dress, made her look like a gigantic flower. She then pulled on large foam gloves in the shape of leaves and then went to open the door. Of course she had to remove one of her gloves to manipulate the door knob. Bridget giggled at Flower’s effort. At least her sexy trucker outfit was cumbersome to walk around in. “What’s so funny,” demanded Ami as she walked into the room. She was dressed only in a flesh-toned body suit and a long blond wig. “I’m not really naked.” “No,” she said, “it’s Flower. She had giant leaf hands and can’t hold anything.” Flower waved her leaf hands and struck a pose like a flower. “So who are you supposed to be?” “Well I am Lady Godiva,” she said. “Don’t you read?” She twirled around. “I am lucky I got some sun this summer because the flesh-toned body suits don’t come in yellow.” She smiled. “I think you mean they don’t come in pale white,” said Flower. “Yeah?” said Ami. “It doesn’t matter if I am pure white or tanned. The other Asian students think I am not one of them because I am ABC.” “ABC?” asked Bridget. “American Born Chinese.” She waved her hands. “Who needs them? Let’s find some frat boys.” Bridget donned her trucker hat and picked up her CB mike. “Yeah. Let’s get truckin’.” She opened the door. “Hey guys. Can I come with you?” A girl with honey-brown hair pulled into pig tails stood there. She had on only a pink t-shirt and a disposable adult diaper. In her hand she held a bottle containing orange juice. Across her shoulders she held a diaper bag. “Who are you?” asked Ami. “It’s me, your roommate Anise,” said the girl. Her hair was no longer an unnatural black; her piercings were gone. Her skin was still pale though. “But, but...,” Ami started to say. “But what?” she asked. “The rest of you are wearing costumes.” “You’re wearing a diaper,” said Flower. “Yeah. I’m a baby. Ami is dressed like a naked lady, and Flower looks like a plant. It’s Halloween.” Ami scooted close to Bridget and whispered, “Are those the same brand you wear, Angela?” Bridget elbowed Ami in the ribs. “Shush.” “I’m just joking,” she said. “Aren’t you embarrassed to be seen in diapers?” asked Bridget. She would have been mortified if anyone other than Ami or Flower saw her so dressed. “Nope,” said Anise. “It’s a costume and it’s Halloween.” “And the piercings and the normal hair?” asked Ami. “Part of the costume. Don’t worry. I’ll be back to normal tomorrow.” “I kind of like her like this,” Bridget whispered to Ami. “Well let’s find some frat boys,” said Anise. ### Fraternity row was on the opposite side of campus from the dorms and it was cold. Bridget sure shivered. She had put her short shorts away when it started to get chilly last week, but she had gotten some out for the costume. Her legs felt numb from the cold. She looked at Anise who wore flip flops. Her legs were as bear as her own. “Aren’t you cold?” asked Bridget. “I am freezing.” Anise held up her bottle of orange juice. “I thought of that already. I got vodka in here. The alcohol is warming me up. It only feels a little chilly.” Bridget smiled. At least with Anise wearing diapers, the attention wouldn’t be on her pull-ups that she wore under her own shorts. She was tempted to go without pull-ups, but even the thought of wetting in a frat house in front of fraternity boys mortified her. Flower waved her leaf-gloved hands. “At least I nice and warm in my costume.” Bridget stuck her tongue out. “And you would be surprised how warm a nude suit is,” said Ami. Bridget stood by Anise. “At least the two of us will be glad to get inside.” “I must admit that you’re right,” said Anise. They finally arrived at the frat house and they were immediately let inside. Ami quickly caught the attention of the frat boys and Flower and Anise quickly left for the drinks leaving Bridget alone. She grabbed a small plate of chips and some beer and sat down in one of the couches. She watched the partiers dance. A month before, Bridget would have been dancing with the other partiers, but not that she had Derek, she didn’t want to dance with anyone else. She had fun watching the goings on of the other partiers. She wished Derek was there with her now. He was probably cutting down trees somewhere. At least Flower was busy partying and too busy to be getting into trouble by spiking trees or stuff. ### Across the room Flower giggled as Anise picked a shot glass full of Jagermeister with her mouth out of Flower’s cleavage. “My turn,” said Flower. Anise pulled at the collar of her baby shirt. “You can’t. This shirt doesn’t let me show cleavage.” She handed Flower the shot glass and Flower had to drink it regularly. A bit later they came back with some beers and sat by Bridget. “Is this a great party or what?” asked Flower. She had almost tripped herself just walking across the room. “Must be pretty good if you are drinking Jagermeister,” said Bridget. “You do know it contains deer blood.” “Nah uh,” said Flower. She stuck her tongue out. “According to Snopes, that is not true.” “Really?” asked Anise. “Yeah, really.” “Well all this drinking and stuff is making me have to pee,” said Flower. “You want to go to the bathroom with me?” “Yeah,” said Anise. She stood up and did a little pee dance. They left and Bridget sat by herself. “So who are you supposed to be?” a girl Bridget didn’t know asked. She was wearing a Silk Spectre costume. “Oh, my costume?” Bridget stood up and held her CB mike. “I’m a sexy trucker.” “Oh, that’s cute. That’s probably a lot easier to put together than mine. I spent a couple of weeks on mine, but I go to comic book conventions. I already won a prize on it at one, so I am just wearing it for Halloween.” “I like it,” said Bridget. “I never saw Watchmen, but I read the graphic novel a while back.” “You missed out. You can still get it on DVD though.” “I guess I missed out if they did the graphic novel justice,” said Bridget. “Are you kidding?” said the girl. “It was awesome.” “Cool then,” said Bridget. Flower and Anise came back from the bathroom. “Can we go?” asked Anise. “Already?” asked Bridget. She looked at her watch. “It’s not even midnight.” Anise held her crotch and wiggled. Her eyes looked at Bridget as if begging. Flower spoke up. “She says she has to pee, but if she takes her diaper off to go, she can’t get it back on.” “Yeah, if I pull on the tapes, the plastic comes up with it.” She did another pee dance. “Can we please go? I really got to pee or I will have an accident.” “You are wearing a diaper,” said the Watchman girl. “Just use it.” “I’m not going to pee in a diaper,” said Anise. “Hey, Flower,” said Bridget, “please get Ami and ask her if she is ready to go. Anise, sit here; that might make it easier to hold it if you are sitting.” Flower left and Anise sat beside her. “Thank you,” she said. “No problem.” Bridget did know how it felt to wet herself and wanted to spare Anise the embarrassment. Ami came over and smiled at Anise. “Can’t you just wet your diaper?” “No,” said Bridget. “You will be able to tell because the diaper will discolor. Everyone would know.” “You’re free to walk back.” “I don’t want to walk by myself dressed like this,” said Anise. “I’ll go with her,” said Bridget. “Thanks, Angela,” said Flower. “She’s my friend. I’ll go to.” “Well the boy I was talking to ended up being a douche. I guess I can call it a night, but you have to start treating Angela and I with respect,” said Ami. “So far you have been mean and petty and you still insist on playing your music loud.” Anise crossed her legs and crouched pretty low. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll be nicer.” “Let’s go,” said Bridget. “I don’t think she has that long.” They stepped out into the cold and Bridget shivered. She looked at Anise who had her hand rammed into the crotch of her diaper. She didn’t know how long Anise could wait. “Just pee your diaper already,” said Ami. “There is no one out here who can see.” “But what about everyone in the lobby at the dorm?” she whined. She continued walking, but then had to stop and cross her legs every few minutes. Bridget had to pee as well and the cold weather didn’t help. She wondered why she decided that short shorts were okay attire for Halloween. Already the wind was picking up and dark clouds were starting to blot out the stars and the moon. They were about halfway to the dorms when Anise suddenly stopped. She held her hands at her crotch and tried to cross her legs. Bridget shivered. “Keep moving. We’re halfway there.” “Yeah,” said Flower. “I got to pee really bad too.” “If I move, I’ll pee,” said Anise. Then she froze and got a blank look on her face. Ami and Flower both stared as Anise wet her diaper. The wetness indicators slowly disappeared and Bridget could see the diaper get a bit thicker as Anise wet it. The diaper slowly discolored as well. “Well,” said Ami. “I guess that takes care of that.” Anise stopped peeing and looked down at herself. She started to cry. Bridget put her arm around her to comfort her. “We’ll get back to the dorm and you can get changed,” said Flower. “It’s okay.” “But everyone will see what I did,” she whined. “Okay,” said Bridget. “You can change in the back of my car. Ami will go up and get you some other clothes.” “Won’t people wonder why she changed out of her costume?” asked Flower. “Fine,” said Bridget. “We’ll send Ami to go up and get a new diaper. They come in packs and surely Anise has more.” “No,” said Anise. “I only have one. I sorta borrowed it from my grandmother.” “Oh nice,” said Ami. Bridget sighed. “Just come on. I’ll find another diaper for you.” They kept walking until they got to Bridget’s car. Bridget let Anise in and then said, “Okay. Here’s the deal. If you mention anything about where you got a spare diaper, then everyone and I meant everyone will be told why you needed it. Do you think you can be discrete about where your spare diaper came from?” “Yes,” said Anise. “What’s the big secret?” Bridget ignored her. She opened her trunk and pulled out the overnight bag she carried in case she stayed at Derek’s. She had promised never again to be caught without diapers if she needed to sleep over. She pulled out a diaper, closed her bag, closed the trunk, and handed it to Anise. “Does your boyfriend know you need those,” asked Flower. Anise looked up at Bridget and she felt herself turn red. “Shush, Flower.” Flower looked embarrassed. “Sorry.” Bridget looked at Anise. “Just change.” When Anise didn’t move, she asked. “Are you waiting for one of us to change you?” Anise blushed and just closed the door. It was dark so no one could really see in the car really well. Ami and Bridget just waited outside the car. All the sudden they heard a peeing sound coming from the front of Bridget’s car. They quickly walked around to see Flower squatting with her dress hiked up and panties around her ankles. “What,” she said. “I had to pee and I am not wearing a diaper.” Bridget pointed behind her. “The dorm is right there and has bathrooms. What are you going to wipe with.” Flower just shrugged and pulled up her pants. “It’s not really a problem.” Anise emerged from the car and they went up stairs to their rooms. “Thanks, Angela,” said Anise. “No problem.” Bridget left as Anise and Ami went off to their rooms. She and Flower went off to their own room. “Now that was an interesting situation,” said Flower. “Yeah. Let’s get to sleep.” “Good idea,” said Flower. “My uncle is coming by in the morning.” Bridget started to wet her own pull-up at the thought of the terrorist. She barely managed to stop before her saturated pull-up leaked. In a shaky voice she managed to speak. “Please wake me up in time to get ready before he gets here.” “Sure,” said Flower. She already had her dress off and was putting on her jammies. Bridget went in her walk-in closet and got ready for bed before emerging diapered. As soon as Flower went to sleep, she called Derek and told him about her day and that it was now time to set the trap. ### Bad dreams were a common occurrence for Bridget. Tonight was no different. She was nervous about baiting the trap. Every scenario she went through in her mind ended with the terrorist trying to physically assault her in her dorm room. The darkest of those scenarios involved Flower joining in. She wondered how Flower was going to react when Bridget finally killed the terrorist. In the last dream of the night, Flower came along on the trip to free the fake minks. After the terrorist was defeated, Flower became enraged and attacked her. “Angela, Angela,” said Flower as she shook Bridget awake. Bridget scooted backward across her bed, almost to the window to get away. She reached her arms up to shield her face from any attack. “You told me to wake you,” said Flower. Bridget looked around. She was in her dorm and Flower did not have that look of hatred in her eyes that she had in the dream. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “It was another nightmare.” “It’s getting worse, Angela,” said Flower. “You need to see the school psychologist. I am going to make you an appointment today after Physics. It’s not normal to have nightmares on a constant basis.” “No,” said Bridget. “Absolutely not.” “They can help you,” said Flower. “Going to a psychologist doesn’t make you a crazy person. Lots of normal people go to psychologists to make them feel better about problems. Anise has talked to the school psychologist.” “Fine,” said Bridget. “Just give me two weeks. If things don’t get better then, then I will go.” She counted on dealing with Owl first. If she did that, then both her wetting problem and her dreams would cease. She just had to get the terrorist to go for the bait and she was going to have to get it right the first time. “Fine,” said Flower. “But no putting it off after that.” Flower turned to make her bed. “My uncle will be coming by after class today, so I just thought you should get up in time to make your bed.” “Fine,” said Bridget. “Let me shower first.” She left to shower and soon came back to the dorm in fresh clothing. She hurried to make her bed and clean her room as well. She may as well play nice with Flower since she was using the visit as a chance to bait her trap. She just hoped Flower wouldn’t be caught up along with the terrorist. “Thanks for straightening the room,” said Flower. “I don’t want him to think I am only partying.” “Even if that is true?” asked Bridget. “I guess I do party a lot,” said Flower, “but you’re only young once. I am still making A’s and B’s, so my parents don’t need to find out about the over partying.” “Well that is true,” said Bridget. “And Angela,” she said, “thank you for being good to Anise when she wet her baby costume. I know you really didn’t like her at all and you and Ami could have reveled in making sure she was super embarrassed.” “Well let’s just say I know what it’s like,” said Bridget. Flower smiled. “And I know you had to reveal that you had diapers to Anise when you gave her one of yours. That was really nice.” “Yeah,” said Bridget. “I’d appreciate you keeping that a secret.” “You know I will.” Flower picked up her backpack. “Well I got to go to class.” She walked out of the dorm. Bridget packed her own bag and grabbed an extra pull-up for her backpack. If she saw the terrorist, maybe a pull-up wouldn’t be enough. She put it away and put a night diaper in her bag. She would change into it in the bathroom before returning to her dorm room. Until then a pull-up would be more than sufficient. ### After her last class Bridget hurried to the restroom. She did particularly need to go, but she knew she would be wetting herself the second Flower’s uncle appeared. She decided to go before returning to the dorm because she didn’t know if he was there already. She quickly sat and tried to go, but only a little came out. She had just gone before class anyway and she hoped she would be all right. Just to make sure, she put on the diaper. The top of the diaper stuck up a little bit above her waistband, so she tucked in her shirt. It was cold out, so her jacket would cover any bulge. When she finally returned to her dorm room, Owl and Flower were already there. “Hi, Angela,” said Flower, “this is my Uncle Owl. Owl, this is my roommate Angela.” She started peeing and couldn’t stop. She couldn’t believe she could pee as much as she did considering she thought she had just emptied her bladder. The padding of her diaper was more than sufficient to absorb the urine though. She forced herself to take Owl’s hand and shake it. “It is nice to meet you.” “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said. Bridget picked up her phone and discretely texted, “He’s here.” She then turned to Flower. “What did you have planned?” “Well my uncle has to give a lecture tomorrow about how to write your Congressmen to get actions done. Tonight he is free and he is going to take us out for dinner for Vegan food.” No. Don’t leave yet, Bridget thought. “That sounds like fun. Do you mind if I check e-mail before we leave. My professor was going to send us the homework assignment. I need to just see it real quick to estimate how long it is.” “Sure,” said Owl. “Our reservations aren’t for another hour anyway. It doesn’t take an hour to drive around Pullman.” “Cool.” She booted up her Mac and checked her e-mail. Just come to the door already, she thought. “So Flower tells me you celebrated Halloween last night,” Owl said. “Yes. I dressed as a sexy truck driver. I wore a trucker hat.” She pointed at her Chevron hat that she had left in a prominent location. “Why did you choose to go as an oil company truck driver?” asked Owl. She decided to startle him a bit. “I found the hat at a thrift store. I chose that hat because the original owner was also a woman. She even wrote her name in it.” She tossed the hat to Owl for him to examine. He looked at it and turned white. “Bridget Addison,” he read in the hat. Bridget smiled and held out her hand for the hat. Her name hadn’t been written in that hat or the original hat. She had just written in the name this morning. “Well should we be going?” asked Flower. A knock sounded at the door. Bridget smiled and rushed to the door to answer it. Ogre stood at the door. He looked a lot more friendly than he did when she met him in the forest. He wore a FedEx uniform and he held a package. “I have a package for Angela Murphy,” he said. “That’s me,” said Bridget. He handed her the package and she signed the clipboard he held. Bridget looked at Owl and Flower for any sign that the ruse had been discovered because Ogre didn’t have a FedEx computer handheld. None of them noticed. Ogre hurried away when Bridget signed it. “Do we have time for me to open it?” asked Bridget. “I can wait until we get back, but I kind of want to know what it is.” “Go ahead,” said Flower. Bridget opened the packaged and pulled out a mink coat. It was pure white and when she held the coat to her face it felt so soft, almost like when she was a child and cuddled with her kittens. She held it up and showed it off to Flower. “I told Derek how cold we were last night and he sent me a coat.” She showed the card that came with the coat to Flower. “I heard how cold you were last night, so I bought you a mink coat. Enjoy it and always think of me,” Flower read. I can’t believe Derek is so cruel as to buy you fur.” “Fur is not good, Angela,” said Owl. “You might think it is wonderful, but think of all the suffering that the mink go through.” Bridget didn’t have to think about that. She had visited a fur farm before and saw how they were killed. However, she still had no sympathy for the angry, hissing minks. “I was so cold last night,” she said. “Derek just bought it because he cares about me.” She took the coat and turned to put it in her walk-in closet. She didn’t close the door all the way. After she hung the coat she called Derek. “They saw it and I think they are mad at me, not mad at the mink farm,” she said when Derek answered the phone. “Just wait,” he said. “They’ll go for it. “I hope you are right,” she said. “Oh, and don’t leave the mink alone with them. I would hate for one of them to spray paint it. It is my grandma’s.” “Oh thank you, Derek,” she said. “A girl likes to dress in her boyfriend’s grandma’s clothes.” “Bye,” he said. “You need to focus on them.” He hung up. Bridget turned and looked out the small opening in the closet door and into the room. Flower and her uncle were still talking. “I think it was tacky for her to wave that coat around in front of us,” said the uncle. “She’s slowly coming around,” said Flower. “I am surprised about the fur coat though. Angela never wears fur. I never expected she would be happy about getting one.” “What’s this Derek guy do anyway that he can afford to buy a fur?” asked Owl. “I don’t know,” said Flower. Owl picked up the package and looked at the return address. “The Cuddly Creatures Fur Farm? It must be new. It’s not in the Blueprint.” “The Blueprint?” asked Flower. “It’s the list of fur farms that was compiled by animal rights activists.” “Cuddly Creatures,” asked Flower. She took the box from Owl. “If there so cuddly, why are they stealing their skins for coats?” She studied the return address. “Hey there logo is especially cruel. Look. They have a cartoon mink in rabbit fur and a cartoon rabbit wearing a mink coat. That is despicable.” I hope Flower doesn’t get baited into this, Bridget thought, or else she is liable to go with the terrorist into the trap. Flower was just naïve, not evil. “Well they seem to be from near here,” said Owl, “Kitzmiller, Washington.” The trap was set and Bridget hurried out. “Don’t we need to go to dinner now? Our reservations will be ready in fifteen minutes.” “Oh yeah,” said Flower. “We need to go.” ### The trip to the restaurant was nerve-racking to say the least. Flower insisted that Bridget should ride shotgun since she was the guest. Sitting in the passenger seat in Owl’s Prius wasn’t as bad as being hijacked by Owl in her tanker truck, but it was almost as scary for her. She was glad for the diaper though. She was constantly leaking from fear, but it wasn’t a lot. However the cumulative effect made it pretty heavy by the time they dropped her off at the dorm. “Go on ahead,” said Owl. “Flower will be up in a little bit. I just need to talk to her about something.” “Sure,” said Bridget. She raced back to the room. She wanted to get back to the dorm anyway. It had been a stressful evening. Once inside, she diapered herself for bed. When she finished, she saw her CB mike. That should have been returned to her car. She also remembered she was one diaper short in the supply she kept in her car. She dressed and then hurried down to replace the diaper. She put the new diaper in the duffle bag in her truck and opened the car door to put away the microphone. She sat in the seat and looked around. Owl and Flower were in the Prius parked nearby. They were arguing. “The time to attack this new fur farm is sooner rather than later. All we need to do is brake in and release the mink. Since the farm is new, that may bankrupt it.” “I don’t want to do any direct action,” said Flower. “Why not?” asked Owl. “Think about all those animals that are going to lose their skins.” “I’d rather not do any direct action until I am sure we aren’t being watched,” said Flower. “Who would be watching you?” Owl asked. “I don’t know,” said Flower. “I just have a bad feeling about it. When we spiked the trees, it did nothing to help our cause.” “Flower, it is time to act. You saw the cartoonish label that they used to sell the skin and fur of animals.” “That does make me angry,” she admitted. Bridget shivered in her car. Not because she hadn’t worn her jacket outside, but because she thought Flower was going to fall into her trap. “If you care about animal rights, you will help me free those mink,” said Owl. “We are going to hit the place at 3:00 AM on Saturday morning.” “Do you really need me?” asked Flower. “The more of us who are there, the higher the likelihood of us being detected.” Flower got out of the car. “I won’t be going.” “Fine,” said Owl. “I’ll free the mink myself. You will be responsible for the deaths of any that I cannot free myself.” Flower stormed away angrily back to the dorms. Owl threw the Prius into reverse and tried to peel out as he pulled out of the parking lot. It would have been more impressive if a Prius could peel out and Bridget was happy about her Crown Victoria and its ability to leave a trail of rubber if she felt like proving a point. Bridget got out of her car and headed back to the dorm. She had a date to stop the terrorist once and for all and she could not wait until Friday night. Besides, she would also be able to spend the night with Derek. “Bang!” Bridget winced against the recoil and pulled the trigger twice more. “Bang! Bang!” She then looked down the range, but couldn’t see how well she had done. She aimed again and shot twice more. “Bang! Bang!” She then aimed the revolver at the target again. “I know what you're thinking. ‘Did she fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?” She pulled the trigger once more, but the revolver only clicked. She looked confused. “Angela,” said Derek, “It’s a .357 Magnum and since it’s a small frame weapon, it only has five shots. Go down and look at your target and see how you did.” He took the revolver from her and spun out the cylinder and showed her the five empty chambers. “I’ll reload while you put a new target up.” Bridget walked down to the end of the field were they set the target. Her shots had been all hit the target, but they were all over the place. She pulled the paper silhouette down and replaced it with a new one and returned to Derek. “Let’s see how you did.” He took her target and frowned. For awhile he didn’t say anything. “Not good enough. You got to get your grouping down to this small.” He held his hands in a circle about six inches in diameter. “When you actually go up against your terrorist, groupings get worse. Even policemen’s groupings expand when they are in an actual shootout.” He handed her the revolver. “Now try again and don’t pretend to be Dirty Harry. Concentrate on what we are doing.” She was concentrating. Derek was being so mean to her. Sure, he was helping her learn to shoot, but he could be nicer about it. She aimed the revolver and pointed it down range. Then she pointed and shot. She did it four more times in slow succession giving herself time to reposition the gun between recoils. “Well, that looked better,” he said. “Now go see what you got and then we’ll try again. She got the target replaced it and then Derek demanded that she do better. “Again,” he said. Each time she emptied the gun and returned with the target, he said, “Again.” By the time Derek was satisfied, she felt like her arm was going to come off. She was finally glad when they went to the farmhouse for bed. ### The farmhouse wasn’t like Derek’s house. The place was rather run down and the pair of them had to sleep on the floor in sleeping bags. Bridget lay down her duffle bag and dug in it for a clean diaper. “Do you need help?” he asked. “I’ve been diapering myself for almost a year,” she said angrily. Derek looked hurt, and she realized what he had been asking. “I will accept help if you want to give it to me.” She lay down fully dressed on the sleeping bag and held the diaper in her hands. “Sure,” said Derek. “He knelt down and helped her undress. When she was naked, she tossed the diaper aside and pulled him on top of her. They kissed for quite awhile and then she felt his hand move from her breast to the area between her legs. It wasn’t long before she heard him fumble around for a condom. ### “She lay in his arms clad in only a diaper, but the diaper and his arms were all she really needed. “You’re a good man Derek.” “And you’re a good woman,” he said, “and I wouldn’t change one thing about you.” “Well after tonight the diapers are going away,” she said. “I’ve been really looking forward to waking up in a dry bed and free of diapers.” “Yeah, I must admit that I could do without the diapers.” He smiled and turned and tickled her. “As cute as they make you look, diapers really aren’t my idea of sexy lingerie.” “I’ll be diaper free as soon as I kill that damned terrorist,” she said. She barely kept the snarl out of her voice. Instead, she got inside Derek’s sleeping bag with him and fell asleep in his arms. ### “Wake up,” said Derek as he squeezed her around the middle. Bridget woke up tired. Derek was spooning her and she felt so comfortable. She hadn’t even dreamed. She felt like she had only put her head down. “What time is it?” she groaned. “It’s twenty after two,” said Derek. “We need to get up.” We reached around her for the zipper of the sleeping bag and pulled it open. Bridget sat up and stretched. She checked her diaper, which was still dry, and smiled. She didn’t even have to pee. She left the diaper on because she would be using it when the terrorist arrived and threw on her blue jeans. “Hurry up,” said Derek. He had already pulled on his t-shirt and jeans and pulled on a down jacket. “I am,” said Bridget. She picked up the revolver, and opened the cylinder. It was loaded with five .357 Magnum rounds. The other four rounds were different colors, but she shrugged. Perhaps she had used too many bullets practicing and Derek had opened another box. She closed the cylinder and put the gun in her pocket. Derek led the way to his pickup and opened the door and pulled out two black squares. He handed one to Bridget and closed the door. “Put this on the other door,” he said. Bridget looked at the square and turned it around. It was a magnetic sign that said, Cuddly Creatures Fur Farm. Bridget’s logo with the cartoon mink and rabbit was nicely done and printed in color. She slapped it on the door of the truck and stepped back to admire it. “Now it looks like a company truck,” she said. “That’s the idea,” he said. “We should probably go to the shed and wait.” The shed was dark and dusty, but Bridget didn’t care. She turned on the light and examined the room. On each side of the long shed were shelves filled with rusty old cages. At the back was a table with a device to shock mink before skinning them. It looked as rusty and worn out as the cages. At the other end was the door. They headed toward the back. “Here is the plan,” said Derek. “When he gets here, I will turn on the light and you shoot him. Fire one shot at a time until you hit him. Don’t shoot him twice or the cops might not think it is self-defense.” “Sure,” said Bridget. She didn’t tell Derek, but she didn’t care what any cops thought. She would shoot him until he was dead. He turned the light out and they crouched down together. “What about the mink sounds we recorded?” she asked. “Won’t he suspect something if he doesn’t hear mink sounds.” “Right,” said Derek. He pulled out his iPhone and tried to turn it on. “Crap.” “What’s wrong?” “The battery is dead.” He ran out of the shed carrying his phone and shortly returned with a cord. “Why didn’t you charge it earlier,” asked Bridget. “There is no electricity in the farm house, remember?” He turned on the light and plugged the phone into a power strip on the table, then plugged in the power strip. A humming sound came from a piece of equipment on the table, but he ignored it and started his iPhone instead. Soon the sound of mink filled the shed. He then turned out the light. ### Waiting took forever. Bridget checked the time on her cell phone ten or fifteen times. It was already 3:37 am and she was so tired. She just wanted to go to bed. The stupid mink noises kept her away, but she didn’t really care about that. She just wanted the terrorist to come on ahead so she could kill him and get some sleep. She caught herself nodding off, but then she heard a loud noise and almost wet her pants. She didn’t, but she had to pee urgently now. The door to the shed opened and a dark silhouette of a man at the doorway. She pulled her revolver and waited. Derek had told her they would wait until he got halfway into the shed before he would turn on the lights as a signal. The man came closer. Her crotch felt numb and really warm. She was wetting the diaper. She couldn’t move until she emptied her bladder. Fortunately she was done before the man reached the halfway point. Derek turned on the light and there was Owl standing fifteen feet away. She leveled the gun on him. “Don’t move a muscle,” she said. “Just shoot him,” said Derek. “I want him to know who I am,” said Bridget. “You’re my niece’s roommate,” he said. “What are you doing here? Is this some kind of set up?” He started forward. “I said, ‘don’t move!’” she said. She cocked the gun for emphasis. “I know who you are. You are a murderer. You killed two hundred forty children when you hijacked a tanker truck and drove it into a school.” “That killer was a woman,” said Owl. “They executed her.” “I was there in the cab with you when you drove that truck into a school. I know your tattoo, I know your voice, and I know your ideology. You destroyed that school because it was build near what you said was a haven for some insect. That is what the press release you issued when you claimed responsibility for it.” “You couldn’t have been more than six at the time,” he said. “I know there were no children in the cab of that truck.” “I’m Bridget Addison,” she said. “I am just younger now. When they put me to death, somehow I jumped into a different younger body, but I still remember what you did. I dreamed about it every night for twelve years, so I remember it like yesterday. I swore to kill you.” She pointed the gun and aimed it at the terrorist chest. She was going to shoot him, but she froze. “Shoot him already, Angela,” said Derek. It was too late really. She saw him coming and couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger. She couldn’t kill a man who killed two hundred forty children so easily. She only had a few seconds anyway before he charged at her. Owl rushed forward and grabbed her wrist. He twisted the gun out of her hand and spun her around so he could stand behind her. She tried to cough, tried to breathe even, but he held his strong arm across her throat and squeezed. She felt her bowels give way and hoped that she could at least get changed before the terrorist killed her. She really didn’t want to be found with dirty diapers. Derek picked up a piece of wood from the floor and advanced. “Let her go!” “Don’t move, or your girlfriend’s brains will be spread across this shed.” Derek dropped the stick and backed off. “Just don’t hurt her.” Bridget still struggled to breathe, but the terrorist loosen his grip. It was still tight against her throat, but she could at least gasp for breath. As she did, she inhaled the scent of her accident. “Really?” asked the terrorist. “It just takes being held at gun point to lose bowel control. You are not the same person who struggled with me to steer that truck out of the way of a building full of kids. Too bad you only steered it into another school. But you really don’t understand, do you? Thirty-five species go extinct every day. Every day! Do you know how many babies are born? People have too many children and are pushing out other animals. A new mall, and new housing development, a new Walmart, even a new school: they all push out native species which will go extinct.” “You are a monster if you value animals over people,” said Bridget. “I shouldn’t have hesitated to kill you.” “But you killed other people. How many people have breathing trouble because you drove around in a tanker truck and delivered oil? Oil is a great evil and you perpetuated it. Even the death of children didn’t make you repentant. You drive around in that big gas guzzler and flaunt your gas wasting ways. I should kill you now.” “I didn’t kill those children; you did,” she said. “Even if my actions only changed the children you killed, you are still responsible for their deaths. I couldn’t even kill a murderer like you, let alone innocent children.” Derek moved forward again. “Let my girlfriend go!” he said. “If you kill her, you will die,” he said. Bridget twisted out of his arms and grabbed his gun hand and hung her weight on it, so the gun pointed toward the dirt floor. “Bang!” The gun went off, but the bullet thudded harmlessly into the floor. Bridget rolled away and scrambled underneath the table. She screamed as the terrorist raised the gun at Derek and pulled the trigger twice. “Bang! Bang!” He then turned the gun toward Bridget and started advancing at her, but Derek rushed the terrorist from behind and pushed him to throw off his aim before falling flat on his face. Bridget pulled her hand over her face as Owl fell toward her. He reached out to the table to steady his grip and then started to twitch. The lights flickered on and off, on and off and there was the horrible smell of burned flesh. All she could hear was Owl’s screaming and an electrical buzzing sound. After what seemed like forever, but was less than a minute, the screaming, then the buzzing stopped. “Angela, are you all right?” asked Derek. She took her hands away from her eyes and saw Derek squatting and looking beneath the table at her. “I’m okay,” she said. She started to move to get out, but Derek shouted, “Wait, don’t move.” She froze. She saw Derek unplug the power strip and unplug his iPhone. He then pushed Owl from the front of the table and reached down to lift Bridget up. “What happened?” she asked. “I thought you got shot.” “Well about that...,” he started. “Your terrorist friend fell into the electrocution device that they use to kill minks. I accidently turned it on when I plugged in the power strip to charge my iPhone. After the gun went off, I had to free you before he hurt you.” “But you could have been killed,” she said. “Well, only the first round was live.” He picked up the gun and opened the cylinder. Two of the four differently colored rounds were still not spent. The others were obviously fired. “I put four blanks in your gun.” She punched him in the arm. “Why?” she asked angrily. “I didn’t want you to go to jail. I thought you would shoot him when he already fell to the ground. That is not self defense and you would go to jail. We are on iffy grounds already.” She looked around. The terrorist lay dead in front of the table. She felt smelly and gross in the poopy diaper she wore. The only thing she was really afraid of was going back to jail. “Well no one got shot,” he said. “I am hiding the gun away and we also have signs to hide.” They ran out to the driveway and pulled Bridget’s sign off the fence. She helped him carry it into the back of the pickup where they put it picture side down. Derek through the magnetic signs in the woods and hid the gun in the glove box. He shut the door and stood back. “Oh crap,” he said. “What?” asked Bridget. He pointed at the flat tires on the truck. “That bastard slashed my tires.” “How will we get out of here?” asked Bridget. “We aren’t,” said Derek. “We are going to call the police.” He took out his phone and called. Bridget wrung her hands as he called. “Police, someone came in and tried to attack me and my girlfriend.” He paused. “No, we are fine, but the assailant somehow electrocuted himself.” He paused again and hung up. “They are on the way,” he said. “Let’s wait in the shed for them. ### It took only fifteen minutes until the police arrived. Bridget shivered, but she stood by Derek as he explained his version of what happened. “Well we are looking into fixing up the farmhouse and moving here when my girlfriend and I move in together,” he explained. “Why were you in the shed?” asked the policeman. “My iPhone died. The house has no electricity yet, so I went out to the shed. When I plugged it in, I plugged in that power strip and plugged the iPhone into that. We were in the shed waiting until it charged when the guy came in. He said he had a gun and I knew he was going to hurt Angela.” “Did he have a gun?” “Well, no,” admitted Derek. He put his hand in his pocket and pushed his finger to make it look like he had a gun in his jacket pocket. “He did this and I didn’t know if he had a gun or not so we just listened to him.” “You did the right thing,” said the policeman. “He then grabbed Angela and held her by the throat while he bragged that he killed a bunch of children in some school and killing her would be nothing. Angela panicked and twisted away and hid under the table, but he chased her. I tried to pull him away, but pushed him at the table instead and he landed with a hand in that machine.” He pointed at the electrocution machine. “As soon as I could get up, I pulled the plug on the power strip. I only touched him to get Angela out.” “Is that what happened, Miss,” asked the police man. “Yes,” she said. He looked down at her waist and wrinkled his nose. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Can we go yet?” she asked. “Not yet,” he said. He walked around her and looked at her bottom. “Are you sure you are all right?” “I’m very uncomfortable,” she said. “I kinda had an accident and want a shower.” “We’ll try to let you get away as soon as we can,” he said. That took another two hours. Another policeman came to question her. “So then Derek pulled him away from the table to let me out,” she said. “Have you seen this man before?” asked the man. She hesitated, but decided the truth was better. “Yes,” she said. “He’s my college roommate’s uncle. He seemed nice Monday when he took me and my roommate to dinner. I didn’t know he would follow me out here and attack me though.” “No one expects someone to attack them,” the policeman said. “I’d be more surprised if he was some stranger than someone you’ve met before. I’ve seen it happen many times.” “Oh, I didn’t realize that,” she said. “He even slashed my boyfriend’s tires.” “Probably to keep you from getting away.” He turned to go back into the shed. “Sit here for now.” He left. ### “So did it work?” asked Ogre. He had come by to pick them up since Derek’s truck tires were flat. Derek had managed to get the gun out of the truck and into Ogre’s car without the police noticing. It had helped that it was not open, but in its case before he called the police. “Yes,” he said. “It worked like a charm. Once less tree spiker and justice for Fred Jones.” “That’s Lia’s dad, right?” asked Bridget. She had to speak up because she was in the backseat with both windows open and only her duffle bag to keep her company. “That is right,” said Ogre. “What I don’t understand is how you knew who he was. Derek said you told him more, but he couldn’t say.” Bridget shrugged. “I really can’t go into it,” she said, “but I was him for another crime when I received evidence that he was involved in the tree spiking. I’m not who I said I was, but don’t worry. I am Angela Murphy now.” “Okay,” said Ogre, “no questions then, except one. I don’t want to embarrass you, but can you smell a bit better next time we meet?” Bridget felt her face burn. “I guess I can keep my pants clean if no one points a gun at my face or tries to nail me to a tree.” It was Ogre’s turn to be embarrassed. “Good point,” he said. He pulled into the driveway at Derek’s house and the two of them got out. “Have a good time,” he said before driving away. Bridget went inside for a much needed shower and then spending time with Derek. She had packed special panties for this night with Derek and she couldn’t wait. The clean shower and night of love making made Bridget so happy. She lay in his arms and relaxed. “I really like you, Angela,” he said. “I like you too,” she said. “I am tired. It’s really been a hectic night last night and I really need some sleep.” “You want me to diaper you again,” he asked. “No,” said Bridget. “I think the nightmares are over. I won’t need diapers again.” She rolled over. Derek put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She fell asleep in his arms. ### Bridget woke up to Derek’s nudging. “Wake up. You’re wet.” She rolled onto her back and then rubbed the mattress. She was lying in a puddle. She sat up right away. Derek looked at her and he seemed kind of disappointed. Of course he was. She had promised him a dry and diaper-free girlfriend and she hadn’t been able to deliver. Tears sprang to her eyes and she started to cry. “I wasn’t supposed to wet the bed. I didn’t even have a bad dream. I promise. I’m sorry I disappointed you.” “Don’t cry, Angela.” He scooted over to sit next to her in the puddle so he could put an arm around her. “I’ll always be here for you. I’m only disappointed because you are sad, not because you wet the bed. I love you.” Bridget sniffled. “You love me? You never said that to me before. You have always been so kind to me, ever since we met at prom. I loved you ever since prom when you danced with me when they played that Elvis song, Can't Help Falling In Love.” “That’s when I fell in love with you, too,” he said. “Even if I have to wear diapers to bed every night?” she asked. “Even if you have to wear diapers all the time,” he said. He drew her toward him for a kiss. Bridget kissed him for all she was worth.
  8. Chapter 1: “Heather, can you come here please?” “What is it Miss?” “I was just watching Sammy and I want you to come here and take note of something. Do you remember when we put her back in daytime diapers?” Heather had to think a moment. It was Thursday now, and it wasn’t that long ago. “I think Monday Miss? After she wet her trainers at snacktime?” Miss Fairchild grinned and nodded. “Sounds about right.” Heather joined the taller woman at the kitchen back door, looking out into the backyard. There were four students at play, three of which were digging around in the sandbox, but just off to the side, the girl in question, Samantha, was standing with a hand on the trunk of the large Mulberry tree facing away from her and Miss Fairchild. In the same way that they were watching her, Sammy was watching the other girls playing in the sandbox, seeming lost in thought at whether or not she wanted to join them. Samantha had only been at Miss Fairchild’s school for about two weeks now. When she’d first arrived, she’d been the picture of teenage rebellion. Wearing a short plaid skirt, ripped fishnet stockings, a loose wide neck shoulder shirt, she’d loudly proclaimed how her mother was insane if she thought she needed to spend time here. The transformation of just two weeks was nothing short of inspiring. Sammy was currently dressed in a light pink t-shirt, with a sunflower yellow overall dress worn over it. The front flap had three pink butterflies on it, and the whole thing barely came down enough to hide the thin diaper she was wearing. “Watch this hun, from what I can see, she’s about to take a nice step back from pre-schooler to toddler.” Miss Fairchild said. Heather didn’t fully understand the stages, she’d only been working at the school as a helper for about 3 months herself, but she had seen all the girls currently playing in the sandbox go through similar transformations. Miss Fairchild labeled all her students by relative maturity. Teen, pre-schooler, toddler, and finally baby; which did not reflect their physical ages. Sammy was physically a teen, easily 16 or 17, but was definitely not that mature, not any more. As Heather and her boss watched, Sammy slowly slipped her thumb into her mouth. She was entranced, watching the other girls play, all of which were already at toddler or baby level. Heather looked on intently, and as she did, Sammy seemed to relax her shoulders, and from what she could see of the girl’s face, her eyes half lidded as she stared off dreamily. Sucking her thumb, watching the ‘younger’ girls at play, she didn’t even seem aware that she was crouching a little, other hand still against the tree to steady herself. Heather wasn’t sure what she watching. She looked up to Miss Fairchild, trying to see what the fuss was about. Miss Fairchild just smiled, but catching the curious look from Heather she gestured with a hand. “Sammys’ going poo poo, the poor dear. That’s not something pre-schooler’s do in their pants. I think we’ll need to demote her down to toddler if she’s going to do that in her diapers,” she said in an almost coo’ing tone. Heather shifted her gaze back to the girl. The way she tilted forward, sucking her thumb intently, and the slight growing puffiness of the back of her diaper under her dress, it was obvious now that she’d been told what she was watching. Sammy remained both focused on the sandbox and dreamily not part of the same reality. What was going through her head as she had her accident? After almost an entire minute, Sammy stood back up, thumb still firmly in her mouth. “Go check on her hun, see if she knows she had an accident, and then take her to get changed. Be sure to use the thicker diapers this time, she needs them.” “Yes miss,” Heather said almost reflexively. Miss Fairchild stood aside as Heather went out into the back yard. There was always a slight intimidation factor there. Mako Fairchild, the owner of the school, was an Amazon. This meant she was a beautiful woman almost 9 feet tall, which was average height for an Amazon. Heather was something in-between. Both of her parents were Amazons, but somewhere in her genealogy, she had a rogue gene and she was only a hair above seven feet. Still technically an amazon, but on the shorter side of them, and sometimes teased when she was back in High School. All the students at the school were ‘littles’. They had many names; dwarves, munchkin, shortstack, funsize, and ‘babies.’ This school especially promoted the last one. A somewhat secretive result of just a month’s training, ‘or your money back guaranteed’ as Miss Fairchild quietly advertised. Approaching Sammy from behind, the cute girl in the yellow dress jumped a little at the pat on her shoulder. She was only an inch or two above 5’ feet, squarely in the ‘little’ category. “Hi Samantha, everything okay?” Heather asked. Sammy gave a slow confused nod, her thumb still in her mouth. “I was about to check all the baby girls, but I wanted to see if you needed to potty first. Do you need to potty?” Sammy shook her head. “You’ve had a few accidents since Monday. Let me check your diaper. I want to see if you need a change.” The girl blushed. Heather had been trained by Miss Fairchild to use this circular logic. You had to talk to the students and describe what you were doing and why, give them reason to understand like it was all normal and part of a learning process. “I’m a big girl, I don’t need to be checked,” she said in a soft voice. Heather just ignored her, lifting up her dress to pat the front of her diaper. It was a little damp, but nothing too bad. She turned Samantha around, getting a whimper of protest from the girl and lifted her dress a little higher to pull out the back of her diaper. “Samantha,” Heather said in the authoritative tone she’d been working on since she’d started at the school. “Do you have something to tell me?” Sammy’s face went pink. As Heather dropped the back of her dress, she slowly lowered her free hand to reach under and press at the back of her own diaper, letting out a little gasp as she cupped her own heavy seat. The thumb slowly came out of Samantha’s mouth as she realized what had happened. “I… I…” “You’re stinky,” Heather finished for her. Taking the girl by the wrist, Heather led her back toward the house. The teenager had to waddle with the load in her diapers. She started to cry softly as she saw Miss Fairchild waiting right at the door. “Uh oh, someone needs a change huh?” Miss Fairchild asked down at the two girls. Heather thought it was a little silly since it was something she knew already. Samantha was quick to look at the floor and put her thumb back in her mouth. She whimpered out some excuse that neither of them could catch. “Don’t worry hun, these things happen, no one’s upset,” Miss Fairchild assured her as Heather led the new toddler off to the nursery for a diaper change. It was 15 minutes later that Sammy was led back outside, and shyly helped over to the sandbox, where she joined the other girls in her now thicker diapers. Her thumb had been freed from her mouth, replaced by a pacifier. Chapter 2: “And this is my assistant Heather,” Miss Fairchild said with a smile. Heather gave a polite wave to the Amazon couple seated on the couch. They had a ‘little’ boy with them who had his hands nervously placed between his knees as he sat rigid. He looked maybe 15 or 16, probably somewhere in the middle of high school. “Typically we have between three to six students at any given time. I specialize in correctional behavior and maturity assessment. We offer both day classes and full time boarding for those that want a bit more focused program,” Miss Fairchild said. “You came highly recommended, we’ve actually visited a few of the automated daycares across town, but I wanted something a little more personal.” the Mother said. Miss Fairchild smiled. “Most of our business comes from referrals and we believe no machine will ever replace a Mother’s nurturing.” Heather listened a moment, but she’d heard the sales pitch before. Likely the young man would start classes here soon. Most of the time it was under the pre-tense of making them more focused at their studies, or less rebellious, or any number of things. One student had even been told she was going to be learning a new language, but the end result was generally the same. Crossing the room, Heather went to go check on the nursery and its sleeping occupants. Naptime every day started at as near to 1pm as it could get. Herding teenage toddlers was a lot like herding cats. It was never easy and it never happened exactly on time. They generally slept for an hour, sometimes two if she was lucky. The nursery had its own unique smell that could be a bit overwhelming at first, but becomes something familiar over time. It smelt of talcum powder, clean carpets, faint used diapers secured in their sealed trashcan, baby shampoo, and clothing fresh from the laundry. At the moment, they only had three students, and all of them were already at the baby level. They would be graduating soon. Going to the first crib, Heather checked on Ami. Ami was an adorable little Asian girl. She was small even for a little, right at four feet tall, and Miss Fairchild had apparently gotten a special request from her parents. Ami was probably in her early 20’s, but after her training, she was the ‘youngest’ in the school, with maturity about equal to an infant. She was still sleeping in her crib, clad in a lilac purple onesie, matching pacifier and her thick diaper underneath. Ami needed the most help of the group. She could still speak, but most of her communication had defaulted to crying or giggling. She didn’t even walk anymore, choosing instead to crawl everywhere. Heather wasn’t sure if that was something Ami had decided, or was ‘taught’. Popping one or two of the snaps on the bottom of her onesie, Heather checked her diaper and wasn’t surprised to find the baby girl had soaked her diaper during her nap. She made a mental note and moved down the line, coming to Sophie next. Sophie was a very quiet girl. She’d come to the school knowing what was going to happen. Her mother had even told Miss Fairchild on her first day that she couldn’t wait to have ‘her baby girl back’. The little brunette had seemed resigned to her fate, and her training had gone by rather quick. In just twelve days, Sophie was completely diaper dependent and sleeping like a little angel in her crib with her paci. Heather reached down to lift the girl’s summer dress up, giving her diaper a check. Another wet one to see too. Finally Heather moved to the last crib, where Sammy was sleeping. Just last week, Heather had watched as Sammy took a step back from pre-schooler to toddler. She was rapidly progressing toward baby, sleeping in overalls with a pacifier like the other girls. She leaned down and was about to undo some of the snaps when she caught a slight whiff of a dirty diaper. She just gave Sammy’s padded seat a couple pats and could tell already the girl had thoroughly messed her diaper while sleeping. “Might have already stepped down to baby, huh?” Heather asked quietly. She went back to Ami and started waking and changing the girl, bringing her out to the playroom. Miss Fairchild had seen their guests off by then and was waiting with a bottle of formula to feed baby Ami. “We’re going to have a new student starting Wednesday,” the Amazon woman said happily. “The young man?” Heather asked as she passed the still sleepy Ami over. “Yes, his name’s Timothy, although he’ll be a rather fun one. We’re to get him ready before his parents officially make him baby Tabitha.” Heather shook her head at that. There was a booming ‘baby business’ around here, that was for sure. She almost felt sorry for the poor boy. Science seemed to know no limits when it came to Amazons and their children. In a month’s time, Timothy could very well anatomically be a baby girl. “Very good Miss,” Heather said politely. She went to go get Sophie and Sammy, changing both girls and bringing them out to the playpen. Chapter 3: “Ummm so what do you do there?” Julie asked. “Underpaid babysitter and daycare worker mostly. Officially I’m a teacher’s aide, but I’ve never known a teacher’s aide who had to change so many diapers,” Heather groaned. “Who enrolls them?” “Their parents, at least, I think their parents. I can’t really be sure about this one woman and the girl she brought in; I think her name was Kurin? Man, she was a biter. Ranting about another world, always trying to sneak out a window, or under the fence. It took almost four weeks to get her just down to pre-school level.” “Pre-school?” Heather rolled her eyes. “Sorry, it’s a bit tough to explain. Just be glad you’re not on the receiving end of ‘schooling’. Miss Fairchild is really nice, but she certainly knows what she’s doing.” It was easier not to explain everything since what happened to ‘littles’ wasn’t necessarily illegal in their society, but it was something of an unspoken occurrence. “Oh.” The two girls sat in silence at the diner for a little while, poking at plates. Julie was Heather’s best friend since High School. The two of them had been close through thick and thin. They shared a common bond in being short Amazon’s. “What’s up Jules? Why the 20 questions all of a sudden?” Heather asked as she sipped from her drink. “It’s been almost six months since we’ve hung out last. I was just curious what you’ve been up to.” Heather shrugged. “Work keeps me busy, and the hours at your job seem to be opposite to mine.” Julie shrugged. “I actually quit, I was working too many hours and the stress was getting to me.” “Oh, sorry to hear that,” Heather said awkwardly. The two girls sat in a longer silence as that sunk in. “You want desert?” “Totally.” After their brief visit, Heather was a bit surprised when she saw Julie walking up the street outside their school a few days later. It was a beautiful spring day, and Heather was seated on a quilted blanket, reading a storybook to four students. She offered a smile and little wave to her friend, but she didn’t pause in her reading. The little teens seated before her had a collective attention span of less than four minutes, and she knew if she stopped, she’d lose them. She continued with a show of every page about what a hungry hungry caterpillar was eating, getting a few giggles from her audience. Julie watched from outside the yard’s picket fence, leaning on it and listening. After the book, she let the kids play with their toys and came up to say hi. “So this is it?” Julie asked looking around. Heather nodded. “Yup, the whole kitten caboodle. What brings you here?” “Oh, uh, just interviewing for a secretary position down the street, and I remember you saying where the place was, so I figured I’d stop by and see it for myself.” The two of them chatted quietly, although Heather was soon dragged away when young Timothy, barely having been at the school for a week, had a growing wet spot on his shorts. “Duty calls,” Heather sighed, offering her friend a wave. Oddly, Heather found Julie stopping by again just a few days later. This time she asked Miss Fairchild if she was hiring. Miss Fairchild was happy to meet Julie, but informed her that she wasn’t hiring at the moment. The following week, Heather found Julie there a third time, and it was on this visit that Heather began to suspect what Julie really wanted. Every time she came, she watched the ‘students’ a little too closely to be curious about the business. She’d heard about this sort of thing before. “You’re jealous of them aren’t you?” Heather asked as she leaned against the fence, watching the yard once more. Julie practically gasped for words. “No, never, who’d want that?” she asked indicating Tabitha, the onetime boy who was now in an adorable frilly dress, with thick diapers underneath. “Amazon mothers with deep pockets,” Heather said jokingly. Julie didn’t laugh. She just watched the students playing. “You’ve never actually seen inside the school have you Jules?” Heather asked. “No, I mean, well I saw from the front door, when I talked to your boss about if she needed a worker.” Heather nodded, smiling. “Come on, I have an idea.” After corralling the pre-schoolers and toddlers inside, Heather showed Julie the play room, and her friend even helped in getting the little ones ready and down for a nap. Usually between 1 and 2pm, Heather would clean a little and go on break, but instead she invited Julie to have a seat on the couch. “Oh you’re little friend stopping by to say hi again?” Miss Fairchild asked as she came in. Usually during lunch Miss Fairchild did the reports on student progress, and ordered supplies. Heather nodded and put her hands on her hips. “Actually Miss Fairchild, I wanted to talk to you about her.” Julie looked up surprised, looking at her friend and then at Miss Fairchild. “I’m pretty sure there’s a reason she’s come to visit me so much here. This is the third time in seven days.” Miss Fairchild smiled, and nodded like she understood exactly. “How old are you hun?” she asked the small Amazon. “I’m 23,” Julie gulped. “And you live on your own?” She nodded. “Well, have a seat here with Heather a moment, I’d like to get some refreshments. We can discuss things when I get back.” Julie watched the Amazon woman leave and she looked hesitantly to Heather. Julie had been doing a lot of research lately. Thoughts about the school had been dominating her mind. She had a general idea from the things Heather told her, and what she’d found online, but she wasn’t sure what was about to happen. She felt sure that now was probably her only chance to turn and walk away. Miss Fairchild returned with a small snack tray. Julie was sitting nervously on the couch, she hadn’t left. Heather was lounging beside her, looking like she was contemplating a nap after the morning she’d had. “You asked about a job the other day, right?” Miss Fairchild asked as she set the tray down on the coffee table. Julie nodded. “Well I don’t have any more spots open for a teacher’s aide, but…” and she gestured at the snack tray. On it were a cup of tea and a baby bottle of formula. “Can you stand up and come over here please?” Julie did as she was asked, looking at the tray and then Miss Fairchild, confused. “I brought you something to drink hun,” the Amazon woman said in a conspiratorial whisper. Heather slowly got up and excused herself from the room, having a notion of what was likely coming and not wanting to put peer pressure on her friend. “Oh, uhm, which one is mine?” Julie said as she started to fidget a little nervously. She was an Amazon, but she couldn’t help noticing the obvious difference in height between herself and Miss Fairchild. Where Julie small, around seven feet, it was still two feet shy of the woman before her. “That’s a good question hun. Why don’t you tell me which one is yours?” Julie moved her mouth like she was about to say something, but her eyes focused on the two items on the tray, staring intently at them. Miss Fairchild just leaned forward to whisper. “You’d make an adorable baby girl Julie, if that’s what you want,” she said. “I’d have no problem at all finding you a mommy, and I’d even let you stay here for your schooling free of charge.” Julie gulped, her eyes not leaving the baby bottle. “The choice is yours hun. If you’d like a second childhood, just take the bottle in front of you and come climb into my lap. After little Julie has her ba-ba, we’ll get her in diapers and she can join the others for a nap.” Julie felt a little tingling shudder as she heard the word ‘little’ added to her name. Unable to really control herself, she reached forward. Heather came back into the room a few minutes later, having been gathering a few things. She found Miss Fairchild humming softly and cradling her friend Julie in her arms, the younger girl had her eyes closed as she was being fed a baby bottle. Heather nodded to herself, patting her own back for having guessed right. When she’d stepped out, she’d gone to the nursery and quietly gathered pre-school clothing and one of the diapers. Chapter 4: “You’re Heather’s mother?” Miss Fairchild asked with a big smile. The other Amazon nodded and raised a hand to wave at her daughter, who was currently overseeing the playroom. She waved back, and looked like she was going to come over and say something, but she had a hard time freeing herself from the baby girl who’d hugged both her legs and was trying to purposefully trip her. “I’m just in town for the long weekend. I figured I’d drop in on her workplace to snoop about what she’s been up to.” Miss Fairchild laughed at that. “We mother’s always have to know our babies are safe.” Both women giggled and watched the ‘students’ at play. “I have to say I’m surprised. She told me she was a teacher’s aide. I had no idea she was helping with all this.” “Oh, yes, Heather’s been one of my most reliable helpers to work here. She’s a darling.” The Amazon woman nodded and smiled, watching the playroom. She was just in time to watch her daughter spill over with a delighted giggle from the babies. She was on her feet again in moments, but it looked like she was enjoying herself. “I think it’s wonderful,” the woman told Miss Fairchild. As she watched, the Amazon tilted her head, seeing one baby girl who looked familiar. “Is that… Julie?” Miss Fairchild’s smile broadened. “Julie’s a sweetheart. She’s being adopted in two weeks to a lovely woman in this neighborhood. She’s only been here a week and she’s already completely unpotty trained.” The woman gasped a little, seeming lost in thought. “I’ve known Julie since her and Heather were kids. They’re the same size even.” Miss Fairchild nodded, “They are a bit small for Amazons.” The other woman looked at her, and slowly she began to smile. Miss Fairchild smiled back. “What type of programs do you have available?” she asked. (To be continued…?)
  9. “Has anyone given you a placement test yet?” Nerissa asked as she led the girl past the receiving desk. "Oh, um... no. I didn't know there was one?" Shannon said. She felt horribly dwarfed around the woman, especially with her this close. Shannon had been on earth until a few days ago, and she wasn’t sure if she still was on earth. Everything around her looked and seemed the same in terms of scenery, technology, language and human beings… BUT there was a glaring amount of cultural differences, mostly centered around people who were tall, the Amazons, and people who were not, like her - the littles. Shannon was 5 foot 6 inches tall a few days ago, and since coming ‘here’ she’d either shrunk or found out that her height was far down the low scale as whatever height she was now, Nerissa was 4 feet taller than her. There were lots of Amazons around, and more so then there were people her height. "No worries hun, just a mix up then. Come along with me and we'll get this all straightened out." It was Shannon’s first visit to the ‘wanderer home’. It was something she’d heard of that helped lost people who didn’t seem to be from this world. One scary thing she’d found since arriving was that the other’s her size seemed to blur the lines between children and adults. Leading the smaller girl into one of the back rooms of the group home, Nerissa indicated where some of the guest rooms were, as well as the bathroom and the kitchen, and finally, the classroom. There was a certain amount of acclimation that new arrivals to this world would need to do. The only problem was that the classroom was not encouraging. There were colorful desks arranged in lines, posters with educational values on the wall… and oddly, at the front of the class was a plastic child's potty, and to its side, a wooden stand with bottle. Shannon looked a bit confused, but otherwise remained silent--wanting to make a good impression. She’s spent the night before sleeping on a park bench. She didn’t want to mess this up. "...So um, do I just take a seat at one of the desks?" Nerissa shook her head no, having the girl stand at the front for a moment. She leaned against one of the desks and crossed her arms. "We came up with this test back when the wanderer home got popular. It’s a home for visitors, and not residents. Does that make sense?” “Um.. I guess, you mean it’s a place for those who aren’t native?” “Exactly, and I’m not sure if you’ve seen the boys and girls who look about your height, but there’s a lot of them who have a problem growing up.” Shannon gulped and nodded. She’d seen one or two at the park. They looked like big toddlers with their much taller parents treating them as such. “I’ve seen them, and I’m not like that.” Nerissa nodded. “Good, but that’s what the test will determine. In the past we’ve had a few runaways try to stay here and pretend they were from somewhere else. This test will help determine one very important factor.” “What’s that?” “Are you a big girl?" “Umm… do you mean like, physically or maturity? Because I’m not really as tall as you .. er.. obviously, but I’m an adult. I mean, I’m nearly 23, which is adult for where I’m from.” Nerissa nodded at the girl. “Allow me to rephrase, I forget to explain things to new girls at times. Are you a big girl, as in, are you potty trained?” That made Shannon blink. "Y-Yeah! I have been for years?" Shannon said, looking a little confused at what was a silly question to even bother asking. It made her think about the young adults she’d seen dressed strangely in the park. Were they potty trained? She got a little more nervous as being at the front of the room was... even though it was empty, it was stressful. Nerissa just grinned. Littles were so wonderfully naïve. "Good, now if you would be so kind, follow me over here, we're going to have a retention test to determine your maturity," Nerissa said motioning toward the wooden stand. Shannon nods. "...um, retention test...?" regardless, the girl followed, looking the stand over. It’d been in the room the whole time, but she just didn’t really know what it was for. "Mhmm... this stand right here is a piece of medical equipment. It's designed too... clean... things. In a moment we're going to hook it up to you and it’s going to feel like you need to go to the bathroom. The test of a big girl is going to be showing me that you can hold it. Can you wait 10 whole minutes without having an accident? It should be very easy for any BIG girl." "...um..." That one took her a few seconds to decide on. "...Yeah, sounds easy!" She didn't sound so sure, now, but she did want to prove that she wasn’t a big girl. "Good, let’s get the test started then," she said, going to the stand and starting to prep it a little bit. She took the bottle off the top, filling it with a solution from a sink in the corner. "I'll need you to pull down your panties, and please lift up the back of your skirt a little." Shannon hesitated for a few seconds. "W..why?” she asked. “Because this is how you prove you’re a big girl. Do I have to help you do it?” the woman said a little impatiently. “No, I can do it." She said a bit nervously. It felt kind of like a parent was talking to her as she slid the panties around her ankles, setting her skirt up a little. She looked around the classroom. It was empty and the wanderer home was mostly quiet. Still it was embarrassing to be in a classroom like this with her butt on display. "This is going to feel a little odd hun, just relax and it we'll start the test shortly," Nerissa said as she replaced the bottle on top of the stand and took out a long hose connecting to it. At the end of the hose was a bulb. “Do you know what an enema is?” Shannon gulped. She had a general idea. She knew you took water up…inside… you. “Is this the only way? I mean, is there some other test?” “You’ll be fine hun. This is a common medical procedure.” Nerissa just put a calming hand on Shannon's shoulder before starting to tease the tip of the hose in between her cheeks to poke at her pucker. Shannon tensed up her shoulders. Instinctively, at first, her body seemed to reject the intruder, tensing up to try to disallow it. "It’s… uncomfortable... w--wouldn't it be easier to just wait until I need to go...?" Nerissa shook her head. "I couldn't be sure you were telling the truth in that case. This way, I know for sure you'll need to go potty and we can properly assess you, " she said pressing a little more firmly until the bulb started to press in. "There, it’s in hun. Now as I said, this will feel a little weird. I've got a full bottle. And it’s just warm water. Relax and we'll be ready for the test in under two minutes," she said as she slowly opened the valve, and a rush of warm water went down the hose. Shannon tensed up as the water rushed in. The feeling was unlike anything she’d ever felt. While the amazon had told her it was a medical procedure, and she’d heard it was before coming her, this was the last thing she’d thought she’d be doing today, and if it wasn’t for lack of place to stay, she would never have allowed this. "How much more...?" she asked with a groan. Shannon was starting to feel very full. Nerissa tapped the bottle as it emptied the last of the way out. "That.... should just about do it," she said. She put her hand back on the girl's shoulder and started to gently remove the hose. "Now the test begins as soon as you have your panties back up and you take a seat on that plastic potty. Ten minutes, and if you're panties are still completely clean we pronounce you a big girl and you get to stay upstairs on the top floor." Shannon nodded, rushing to get her panties up--stopping halfway down, however, hugging at her belly. She went a bit slower, trying not to strain herself, hobbling over to the potty. Taking her seat, her eyes shot to the clock. Determined as she was, part of her KNEW she couldn't make all ten minutes. She’d never felt such an intense need to go before. Nerissa pulled a pocket watch out and started the timer with a click. "All right, 10 minutes hun. Show me you're a big girl," she said as she took a seat on one of the smaller sized desks. After a minute or two, Shannon reached down and latched her hands on the potty, tensing up. She let out a small, distressed whine. "H--how many people pass this?" Nerissa smiled and artfully redirected the question. "All BIG GIRLS have passed it," she said honestly. "Only babies fail it." Shannon nodded, trying to use the sentence as motivation, but it didn’t take long though. After another minute, and not long before the halfway mark, Shannon let something slip--just a tiny bit of water. It dripped noisily into the potty. Nerissa stopped looking at her watch when she heard it. "Hun... did you just do what I think you did?" she asked, a slight smile curling at the side of her mouth. "Speak up, tell me what just happened?" “I…” Trying with everything she could, the dripping only got louder as more leaked out. “I’m trying… I just…” All of a sudden it was everything at once. At first it was just water, soaking through her panties and going into the potty, but then it was much more then water as everything in her piled up in her panties. Shannon sat with one of her arms curled around her stomach, and another around her mouth, stifling a small gasped "Noooooo." “Shannon?” Nerissa persisted, but it was obvious what had just happened. Shannon whimpered out a small "I couldn’t..." squirming on the seat. "Ew, ew, ew..." "You failed,” Nerissa sighed. “And you know what that tells me? Do you know what type of people can't even pass a simple test?" she asked as she walked toward a shelf at the side of the room, getting some wipes. Shannon hung her head. "b--but I haven't had an accident in years! And I’ve never had an enema before!" Nerissa came back with a box of wipes, taking the little by the shoulder and having her put her hands out on the ground in front of her, positioning her at a crouch over the potty. Her ruined pantied bottom pointed out. The amazon pulled down the panties and started trying to clean her up with wipes. "Haven't had an accident in years until you took the placement test? Are you saying you intentionally failed then? You wanted to prove to me you’re nothing but a baby?" "N--no, it was an accident! This is a crazy test! You have to believe me!" Shannon said, put off guard by the treatment. She whimpered at being cleaned. "Well... if you swear it was a onetime thing, I'll make a deal with you. Because you had an accident in our classroom, and failed your placement test, I'm going to put you back in diapers. You're certainly not going to be the only little around here in diapers. From now on though, when you have to go to the bathroom, I want you to come find me or any of the other adults here and we'll help you get out of the diaper to go potty... We'll keep that up for a week. That should be enough proof I think... but if I find out you have more accidents. Well, you may find yourself in diapers quite a bit longer." Shannon didn't need diapers, but what argument could she make in a new place. Especially dirty panties around her ankles... "Alright..." Nerissa finished cleaning the little in the somewhat compromising position, leaving the wipes and the ruined panties in the plastic potty on the floor. She took Shannon by the hand and led her toward the changing table at the back of the room. "Consider yourself on probation hun. I know this is a new place, and I know you’re nervous, but don't think you can get away with more than a few accidents before everyone here will know just what you are," she says stopping short of the table. She gave the padded surface a pat. "I--Well, good! That was the last one!" Any attempts of hers to seem confident were complete failures; she was just whining now. She crawled up, laying out on the padding. "...Um! Since I'm just on probation, can it be a thin one?" "Sure hun, just remember, prove to me it was a onetime only accident," Nerissa said, bringing out the thinner diaper. It was a disposable, the same kind you could get at convenience stores. She got a bottle of powder to go with it. Without warning, she took the girl by the ankles like she really wasn't anything more than a baby and pulled her bottom up off the table, sliding the unfolded diaper under her before setting her back down and starting to powder her. Shannon fidgeted a bit, not used to the sensations. "Well, yeah! Just--long 's you don't give me another enema I *know* I'll be okay! I'm not a baby..." "Of course not hun, and this diaper is just to keep you protected in case that test wasn't a fluke," she said as she finished taping it up. She gave the now diapered little a pat on the front of her diaper before helping her off the table. She tried to hold back a giggle, as the girl's skirt didn't seem to come down far enough to hide what she was wearing. This was how all littles needed to be really. Diapered toddlers. "Remember, tell an adult when you need to go potty. Okay?" "Why can't I just take it off myself?" Shannon whined, taking her first few steps in the diaper. Each one had an awkward waddle to it as her legs were pushed apart. "I need a dress or something to cover this, too..." she continued to march around the room, trying to get used to the rustly plastic. It never quite worked though--every step was as infantile as the last. "You need an adult so that they can make sure that your diaper's clean. I'm sorry to say that after failing that test you need to earn our trust," she said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the bemused expression on her face as she watched the girl toddle about the room. She had no doubt, with a little help from a special teacher like herself, she'd get this girl to need diapers for a rather long time. "...Alright! No problem! That's just a few seconds extra--and I'm not a baby so I can wait it!" She was clearly determined to prove herself. Shannon was about the most plucky wanderer that Nerissa had ever seen. Usually girls screamed their heads off. Stopping after a waddled lap around the room, Shannon poked at her diaper. "...this is a *thin* one...? What are the thick ones like?" "Hopefully you'll never need to find out. Those are for heavy night time bedwetters and littles who are such babies that there's really no hope in potty training them," she said. Shannon gulped. --------- "Hi hun, do you need to potty?" Shannon jumped, spinning around. "Um--yeah, I was planning on heading back to the home in a bit! But since you're here, um, yeah I need to go!" Nerissa lifted up the back of Shannon's skirt, checking her just like a toddler. "Let me check your pants hun, and then we'll head to the potty." "But..." Shannon rolled her eyes. She was bone dry. But this sort of thing had happened a few times since she started staying at the home. Heck, it was just about standard for the world at large and people her size. The Amazon smiled and gave Shannon's crinkle bottom a pat. "C'mon then, let’s get the big girl to the potty," she said taking Shannon's hand and leading her back toward town, waddling and stumbling a little at the taller womans longer gate. It was almost too easy as Nerissa took a particular path back toward town, making sure to bring the two of them just past an area of construction. It was almost Halloween and a local haunted house liked to set up every year in a storefront. They’d barely rounded the corner before an Amazon in a monster suit made a silly ‘RAWR’ jumping at the two of them. Nine feet of monster when you’re just over five is terrifying. The little stumbled back and fell on her padded bottom, promptly soaking her diaper. After the initial shock, and hearing Nerissa chastise the costumed monster, Shannon tugged her skirt down, her heart pounding. “Its not Halloween yet! You shouldn’t be doing that!” the Amazon teased the performer. She got a flyer in response before looking back in surprise at Shannon. “Oh, you okay hun?” she asked bending down and offering a hand to help her up. She nodded. Shannon just had to make it back and rush to the bathroom... and Narissa would never even know. Standing up, she put on the most confident face she could muster with a soaked diaper around her waist. “Well we’re almost back, come on hun,” Narissa said turning back around and already able to see the yellow tinge under the girl's skirt. She didn't say anything, instead offering her hand. "You're safe, it was just a guy in a costume, c'mon the home's not far now," she said leading Shannon back by the hand once more. As she got on the same street, there were a few giggles from the other Amazons as they spied a little in diapers. Given her ‘adult’ clothing it was still obvious she was ‘new’ to the area. Shannon was bright red long before they got back to home. At some of the giggles she realized what the problem could be and when the Amazon was turned, she hastilly tried to tug up the diaper, and push her skirt down. Anything to avoid detection for the few seconds she might need! Nerissa led Shannon into home and went back toward the classroom, stopping before the pink plastic potty. "All right hun, do you need some help getting the diaper off?" she asked, looking quite ready to lean down and help the little get seated to do her business. Like this was some second test or something. Shannon shook her head, pushing the skirt down a little. "Why are we here? Why can’t I just go to the regular bathroom? It’s not that big of a deal. " She was obviously hiding something. "...u--um, would it be okay if you left for a moment? I don't know if I can do it with you watching..." "Hun... are you trying to hide something?" Narissa asked at the very obvious way the girl was pulling down her skirt. "I know you’re a big girl and of course you wouldn't have any accidents, but you do seem to be acting a little strange." Shannon shook her head. "You already checked me once! Nuh uh!" Nerissa leaned down and swept Shannon's hands away, pulling up the front of her skirt almost to her chest, and leaving the girl looking rather foolish as she stood there in an obvious soaked diaper. Nerissa let out a 'tsk' and shook her head, obviously looking very disappointed in Shannon. "Why did you have to tell a fib Shannon?" "W-well--I dunno! It was--I had it up until that stupid monster at the end! And--I'm not a baby, I don't wanna go back to diapers!" She let out a small whine, stomping one foot down. Reaching down, Nerissa gave the front of Shannon's diapers a few pats, making sure she could feel that she was indeed in a diaper, and that it was wet. "Aww hun, so you were scared? That's all it was? I believe you, besides, you said you've never had an accident... aside from just now and earlier at your test," she said, ticking the two incidents off on her fingers. She undid the tapes on the girl's diaper and removed it, leaving her wet lower half exposed as she gently put a hand on the girl's shoulder and had her sit down on the child's potty. "Go ahead and see if you still need to go, we'll get you back securely into a diaper after." Shannon nodded, trying to go... but she had nothing. "...this--um, this won't count against me, right? Since it was just a fear-thing... which hasn't happened in years either by the way!" "We'll use a three strikes rule to make it fair... does that work? I know you said it'd never happen, and sometimes we do just get scared, but there's only so much I can believe... so that's strike one hun. If I find or hear about you wetting two more diapers... then I'm going to extend this whole thing another week. That's another week of diapers. ... If I find out you've messed in a diaper... that's going to be three strikes automatically. " Shannon bowed her head, then nodded. "Well--I definitely won't mess! Or wet! Promise..." Nerissa nodded and helped the girl up, shaking her head but not commenting on the empty training potty. She led the girl toward the back of the classroom once more, helping her up on the changing table. She got out another thin diaper and lifted the little by her ankles once more, getting a wipe and cleaning her thoroughly like the toddler she'd been acting like. She put the diaper under her next, getting out powder and liberally applying it before taping it up once more. "There, dry again," she smiled, grinning at the little who now smelled a bit like a baby. Shannon nodded, hopping off the table with a smile. At least she was out of that wet diaper... for good, she was SURE of it. She wouldn't embarrass herself again--either in front of this nice caretaker, or in front of the city full of people. "...Um do you have any drinks? All the walking made me a bit thirsty..." "You a fan of milk? I have some in my room in the back. I got it fresh this morning," she said motioning toward the office door in the corner of the room. "Yeah, I love milk!" Shannon followed, bouncing and crinkling with every step. "Um, thank you! ...sorry about all this... accident stuff..." "No trouble at all hun, that's what the class is for. And as you said, not going to happen again right? So there's nothing to worry about," she said leading the way to her office which had a small desk and two chairs. Behind her desk she had a mini-fridge where she pulled out a metal pitcher filled nearly to the brim with a rather thick milk. "Fresh, and cool," she said, reaching to a drawer on her desk and pulling out a double handled sippy cup. She poured the cool milk into it and capped it back up. "Sorry, I’m not sharing my own mug," she said pushing the cup toward Shannon. Shannon looked at the cup for a moment, frowning. There was something about this world. Childish things didn’t seem THAT bad… and hearing someone that much bigger then you tell you something, you were just inclined to listen. Shannon snatched up the cup quickly, rushing out a small "Thank you" before drinking the stuff. "...Wow, this is really good!" she giggled. It didn’t taste like any milk she’d had before. "Glad you liked it," she grinned. --------- "...So, um, what are the uh guests on the top floor like?" Shannon asked with a yawn. "Intelligent and energetic girls, most of them are littles like you," Nerissa said, smiling. The tall amazon was in the midst of the common room, a diaper bag on her shoulder, helping a few other littles who had less than perfect potty training. Shannon had been spending more and more time at the home, but as she spent time on the ground floor, she’d been curious about the upper floor and some of the girls she’d been told were there. People who had passed the test she’d failed. She’d never actually met one herself. It was already a few days since her arrival and some of the strange things in the home were starting to seem pretty casual. She’d only had one more strike since making the deal with Nerissa. It’d happened after lunch a lunch of milk and sandwiches the other day. It took her by surprise, but other than a warning of not to let it happen again, Shannon had just been changed and sent on her way. It was comforting to know she wasn’t the only little with potty problems. When Nerissa had finished attending the other little, she came over to get Shannon, scooping her up. Shannon, being tired, was content resting her head against Nerissa's arm. She even dozed off, ever-so-briefly, breathing out a light high pitched sigh for a second before snapping back to the waking world. Shannon had been given her own guest room on the ground floor and recognizing someone was in need of bedtime, Nerissa had brought her to her room. She set Shannon down just before her bed, making sure she was awake enough to know she was home. The little yawned again, but then her stomach growled angrily at her. "I missed dinner," she said sheepishly. Shannon was still allowed to wander around close to the home and she didn’t have her own money so she depended on the home for most things. Nerissa smiled and nodded. She came around to the other side of the bed and sat down, laying her back against the pillows and motioned for Shannon to come sit next to her as she reached into the diaper bag for something. Sitting next to her, and squirming over to look inside the bag, a natural curiosity overtook Shannon. Nerissa pulled out a baby bottle, one that was more sized for an Amazon baby, and was rather large for someone the size of a Little. It was filled with a heavy milk, the same actually she'd had at lunch the other day and in the sippy cup before that. She smiled and held it up, motioning warmly for Shannon to rest against her, "It'll help you relax hun, you seem stressed." "...Um... do I have to drink out of the bottle...? I'm trying to *not* be a baby! I mean, I know it'd help... but..." Nerissa tried to do her best to seem warm and comforting and like there was nothing odd about this at all. The world tended to help these girls act more appropriately to what they really were and it was hard for Shannon to object. Nerissa kindly put her hand on Shannon's shoulder, pulling her in so that the diapered Little was resting with her head on the amazon’s chest, and she softly, but firmly pressed the nipple between her lips, silencing her protests. "Just relax hun, you've had a very trying week." Shannon whimpered, but as she was in the position and her tummy was grumbling she nodded slowly, sucking on the nipple. After the first drop, there was no way the Little was going to move an inch. The milk was so delicious, so thick, and... a little sleep inducing. But of course, she made sure to finish the bottle, filling herself up with the creamy goodness. When she finally did finish, she turned her head slightly, resting against the Amazon's chest. "Thank you..." she murmured, nearly asleep from the milk. Nerissa smiled as the girl turned her head, being sure to give her back a few firm pats. She had a very full tummy of milk, and Nerissa already knew exactly what that'd do to her. She kept patting her back leaning in to whisper, "It’s okay hun, get some sleep, I'll be back in the morning to check on you," she said. Shannon nodded, letting out a small burp before dozing off in the woman's arms. After all of the adventure of winding up in this new world, all of the stress, and the belly full of milk, she’d sleep through just about anything. Nerissa slowly eased Shannon off of her. She tried her best to make the sleeping girl comfortable, propping her on pillows, pulling the covers up. She also couldn't help taking the girl's hand, and gently bringing the thumb up to push in her mouth. Nerissa smiled, Shannon was quickly moving along with the program. She grinned to herself, taking the bag, and leaving the room quietly. By morning, Shannon was still sleeping like a baby in complete bliss. She was still sucking on her thumb and hadn't moved an inch since last night. Nerissa was there first thing in the morning to let herself in. She had the same bag from the night before on her shoulder, but it was a bit fuller with a few different things this time. She smiled seeing the girl still sleeping and sucking her thumb, she came around to the side of the bed, easing the blankets off of her and discreetly checking her diaper, trying her best not to wake her. Shannon slept through the check--it seemed like it would take a lot to wake her from this state. The diaper was, of course, soaked. Her thin diaper had barely managed to take it all and she’d leaked a little on the bed. Smirking, the Amazon just started prepping things. The milk had apparently worked its magic, the little not even waking as she wet herself like in an infant in her sleep. Nerissa took a seat on the bed next to Shannon, not bothering to change her yet and leaving the blanket off of her. "Shannon, wake up hun," she said giving the girl a good shake on her shoulder. Shannon slowed to waking, turning up to look at Nerissa. "Mmmorning..." she murmured. She first noticed her thumb, still in her mouth, and instantly retracted it, blushing. "Um, I don't usually suck my--" She fidgeted in her embarrassment, causing her to feel something quite foreign. Another fidget confirmed her fear. "I--" she couldn't come up with any excuse, like she always had before. Either to convince Nerissa, or herself... So she simply started to tear up. "Strike three hun," she said softly. “Remember what I said?” She gave the soaked diaper a pat, as if confirming what the girl could feel. She reached into the bag on her shoulder and took out a pacifier, unceremoniously pressing it into the girl's mouth. "It's okay, I'm not mad... I kind of suspected from the beginning," she said, taking out powder, wipes, and one of the very thick disposables from the bag. The disposable had very childish prints on the front and unlike the thin diapers with two tapes that looked more medical. These were baby diapers, one tape on each side, thick able to keep a baby dry. Shannon shook her head, murmuring a quiet "MmMm! MmMm!" from behind the pacifier, a very childish "no, no". But... how could she argue it? She was *sitting* in a wet diaper. And she wanted to get out of it, even if it meant getting into the childish diaper. Shannon laid out, turning her head to the side, whimpering a little. Nerissa stood up and began her task of changing Shannon. She got out a changing mat and placed it on the bed, pulling Shannon by the ankles and resting it under her. She untapped the wet diaper and began wiping her. The amazon took and unfolded the thick disposable, sliding it under the girl. She took out baby oil and rash cream first, starting to work it into the girl's privates. The time it took to clean her up made Shannon feel... well, babyish. She didn’t think she could have changed herself for one, and for two, it made her feel kind of gross, knowing that Nerissa had wipe pee off of her. Nerissa followed up the rash cream with a healthy dossage of baby powder, this time not just centering it to her diaper area, but on her tummy and thighs as well. This Little was going to smell like a baby. She taped the diaper snuggly in place, it was thick enough that it forced Shannon's legs slightly apart. "There, dry and clean," she said offering a hand to help the sobbing girl sit up. Nerissa put the used diaper in the trash and came back to the bed to sit down opposite Shannon, holding her arms out for a hug. "It's okay hun, it’s not a big deal," she repeated sweetly. Shannon hugged her, trying to believe her... for her own sake, really. What she had been so sure of before, now seemed like an insurmountable obstacle looming on the horizon. Nerissa giggled with the girl and reached over, taking the pacifier and trying to keep her distracted as she reached into the bag and pulled out another full baby bottle. She was gentle, but still firm and insistent as she pressed it into Shannon's mouth, moving her from hugging to resting against her chest again. She smiled, somewhat smugly now. Shannon snuggled tightly against Nerissa, drinking the bottle hungrily. She noticed that rather than get tired of the bottles, she was liking each one more and more and more. Her thoughts eased off of the wet night she had made minutes before, instead easing to a relatively new, infantile bliss. Nerissa watched Shannon settle into a steady drinking rhythm. She smiled, patting the little on her diapered bottom. "Its okay hun," she said in a steady, relaxing voice. "Just relax, we both know what you are, you're just a baby, and that's perfectly okay. After you finish your breakfast bottle, we'll get you dressed and bring you to the nursery of the home. Shannon shook her head when Nerissa mentioned that she was a baby, but wound up relaxing back down, and nodded through the rest of the conversation. Nerissa smiled as the bottle emptied, and once again, she holds Shannon close to start patting her back. As soon as she'd recovered from the wooziness of having a full bottle, she'd get the girl dressed in something rather juvenile and help her toddle off to the nursery section of home. --------- It was another day or two later before Nerissa decided to come check on her pet project. Shannon had been coming along rather nicely, the cute little accepting that diapers were something she may need to wear for a while. She grinned just thinking about the small 20-something girl waddling around in them. Shannon was in the nursery part of the home most of the time now. She was playing alone when Nerissa arrived, and as she set her eyes on Nerissa, rather her typical reaction, she jumped up, scowling angrily. "Nerissa!" Nerissa smiled warmly. "Hi hun, you settling in well here?" Shannon nodded on instinct. "Well--yes--but-- I was talking to some of the other kids today, and *none* of them passed the test! I don't think it’s possible!" She couldn’t really hold up the ruse forever, might as well give a grain of truth on it. "I remember when you asked hun. You asked me and I specifically said 'only big girls pass the test,' which is true. And all the girls you asked... were they diapered like you?" "Well, yeah, but... how many big girls *are* there? Because someone said there aren't any, only mommies and caretakers!" Nerissa shook her head, laughing good naturedly. She reached into the bag on her shoulder and pulled out a pacifier. "Just who haaaaave you been listening too?" she asked as she pressed the pacifier between the Little's lips. "I bet you’re just cranky because you need a change," she said with another warm smile, bringing her hand to lift the girl's juvenile dress and check her thick diaper. Nerissa was spot on--though it certainly wasn't as bad as she expected. Just damp, not even squishy to the touch. Shannon shook her head a few times, blushing, but didn't remove the pacifier to continue arguing, instead sucking on it and shooting the Amazon a glare. Nerissa gave her diaper a few pats. "Seems all right hun, I think you can stand to wait for a change," she smiled. "Come on, I bet I know what will calm you down," she added, nodding toward a rocking chair in the corner of the nursery. Shannon let out a small whine, bringing her hand up to the pacifier. "...’tay, but... take me to see the potty-trained kids soon! I mean it!" Nerissa just nodded absently, not really planing to do any such thing. She took a seat in the rocking chair, lifting up Shannon to sit on her lap. She cuddled her close, holding her head to her chest and bouncing her a little on her legs. Then reaching down, she pulled up another full baby bottle of milk from her bag. "Now just relax hun, I know how much you like your milk." Shannon nodded, but eyed the bottle with noticeable suspicion. For a second, it even looked like she would reject it... but with the milk being as addictive as it was, she caved, opening her mouth wide. Nerissa smiled as she pressed the nipple into Shannon's mouth, tilting her back to let her drink it all up. She rocked the chair and hummed softly, grinning as she gave the girl's diaper a bit of a pat. Shannon squirmed, disliking any focus on the diaper, or its slightly wet state. She may have accepted it, but she didn't embrace or enjoy it. Her mind shifted off everything else though, focusing on how *wonderful* the milk tasted... Nerissa let the girl drink it, she had a plan today, and she'd need the girl in her semi-haze after the full bottle of milk to put it into action. Shannon drank the bottle, almost mindlessly, gulping the entire thing down as quickly as she could. She didn't seem to notice, but Nerissa felt the diaper grow warmer and soggier. It often seemed to happen when the girl was drinking her milk now. Nerissa grinned as Shannon was almost finished with the bottle. She looked around and was happy to see that the Nursery was mostly clear now, and so with the cute Little so focused on nursing, she decided to help her come around to the idea of liking diapers a bit more. She began to rub at the front of the soggy diaper, gently, and tracing her hand around to the back, giving a few soft pats. Shannon let go of the nipple briefly, letting out a small whine. "N--nerissa, what are you--nnh..." she hastily finished the bottle, sucking harder whenever the Amazon rubbed her. Nerissa alternated rubbing the front and giving soft pats to the back. She was counting on the general sleepiness of a full tummy of milk that Shannon wouldn't wholly understand what was going on. She just coo'd softly. "It's okay hun, relax, you like your diapers, they feel good don't they?" she asked with another soggy rub. Shannon moaned softly. She wanted to say no, she hated diapers, but it was starting to feel really good. "...y--yeah... " she set her hands down, on Nerissa's legs, and started to softly squeeze. The Little was breathing out horny little sighs and gasps on every single breath. It felt so wonderful... the squishy padding pressing against her, the soft patting at her bottom... the way the diaper swaddled and cushioned everything... she squeezed tighter with her hands, focusing everything she had on how wonderful her diapers were. Nerissa kept at it, leaning down to whisper in an ear. "That's right, diapers can feel really nice when you relax..." she said with a particularly firm pat to her bottom. "Its okay when you’re tired and when you've got a nice full tummy to just be a baby and enjoy your diapers," she said. Part of Shannon wanted to whine and complain about being called a baby--but that part was shoved back, and her focus forced back on how right Nerissa was. It was always easy to listen to Nerissa and what she told her. She gave a small nod, whining on her next breath. Nerissa grinned and whispered just a little more. "It’s okay baby," she repeated, almost like a mantra. "It’s okay to feel good in your diapers. It’s almost nap time for you... go ahead and let go, let everything go in your diaper," she said with another soggy rub to the front, and pat on her bottom. "Show me you need your diapers," she said in the softest whisper. For a brief second, Shannon shook her head, trying to shrug off the attempted suggestion. But by the time Nerissa reached "Let everything go", Shannon felt something in herself, forcing out. She hadn't realized how far she'd gotten into all of this... part of her tried to resist, to hold it in. But like so much else, she was powerless to do so. As Nerissa finished "show me you need your diapers", Shannon's back arched, and she obeyed Nerissa's order. And she, however slightly or subconsciously, accepted Nerissa's suggestion, melting into a pleasure that she /knew/ could only have been caused by her wonderful diapers. Nerissa smirked as she felt the Little start to shiver and whimper, cumming cutely and adding to the wetness there. And as the Little arched her back, she felt the suggestion take hold, if only for her semi-concious state, and could feel the girl shudder as she gave in to do something really babyish, messing her diaper. Nerissa started to hum the lullaby again, nuzzling the Little as she continued to shake and convulse a bit. "Such a good baby," she said, watching her use her diaper as instructed. She knew this wasn't the end, but this little was coming along nicely. Shannon settled back, shell-shocked from the whole experience. It felt unreal, dreamlike... and part of her wanted to fall asleep right here. "...Did I just poo poo...?" she murmured, confused. She may have been back in diapers, but a full-fledged messy accident? That was the worst she’d had yet. Nerissa was all coo's and tenderness. "Aww it’s okay hun, that’s why you’re in diapers. We'll get you cleaned up and then ready for a nap in no time." Nerissa didn't seem to act like anything was wrong. Where Shannon's previous accidents, she'd tried to console the Little, this time, Nerissa just gave Shannon's diaper a few good pats, and as she got up, carried Shannon on her hip. "Come on hun, we'll get you changed out of that poopy diaper and put you down for a nap. You’re usually pretty sleepy after your bottle, huh?" she asked. Shannon nodded, squirming slightly as the woman carried her. "...yeah..." she sighed, in a daze from what had just happened. "...I didn't feel it coming at all... I usually do, kinda... I just can't make it..." Nerissa nodded smiling as she took Shannon toward the changing table in the nursery. "I know, it’s tough to know when you need to go hun, that's why you're in diapers. Accidents happen," she said, going about the process she had quite a few times before with Shannon, changing and cleaning the Little before putting another thick diaper on. She took out a pacifier and put it to Shannon's lips. Shannon nodded, seeming to accept that fact for the moment. She certainly didn't have the energy to fight it, if she did want to, so she sucked away at the pacifier, nearly dozing off right on the changing table. Nerissa changed Shannon into a fresh diaper and seeing how she was falling asleep, she quietly and gently changed her into a one piece footed sleeper as well. The bottom was bulging noticeably with her diapers and it just made her all the cuter. Instead of her usual bed, Nerissa carried her to a crib in the next room. Pacifier in mouth, adorably clothed, she looked like a baby. It was another solid hour before Nerissa came in checking on the cute little. With gentle hands, she scooped up the baby, bringing her back to the changing table and removing her sleeper. She slipped on the juvenile clothes she'd been wearing earlier, and left the pacifier in. Shannon had managed to wet a bit more in her sleep, but she wasn't soaked, so Nerissa didn't change her. Then, almost as good as earlier, Nerissa, put the sleeping Shannon back in the playroom, leaving her propped against some stuffed animals. When she woke... it'd be a bit different then earlier. Had earlier even happened? Nerissa left quietly, being sure to just let the girl discover what she will on her own. Part of having these wanderers in the home was playing a little with their heads. Usually they were already susceptible to things they normally wouldn’t be… the world it made it so. But it was especially effective if you left them believe they’d dreamed up an incident where-in they enjoyed diapers. Shannon eased out of her sleep, looking around the room in confusion. Her initial reaction was that her experience with Nerissa was undoubtedly real--just like anyone who has a dream. But after a moment, she immediately recognized that the pieces didn't quite fit. She was in the same outfit, and in a totally different spot, for starters. Two, she was as clean as could be. She kind of remembered being changed... and she couldn’t believe she would have messed, but… maybe she had? Pressing a hand to her diaper, she was just as wet as before that whole thing... she sat up, sucking idly on the pacifier. What an odd afternoon. --------- As the days went on, things were mostly normal for Shannon... or really as normal as they had become. She was diapered full time, she made friends with the other Little's of the home, even if most of them were in diapers themselves and no one seemed to question or bat an eye that she was too. The rest of town kind of ignored them, usually only giggling when they saw them around. As small as they were though, things did change. Shannon hardly noticed them. One day, while back in the park, once again searching for the place that had brought her into this world, her thumb found its way to her mouth. She didn't even realize it was there, and at the same time, she began to wet her diaper, not knowing she was doing it. Nightly she'd wake up in the morning needing a change as well. There were a few successes mixed in, she found some of the other adults and told them she needed to go poo poo, phrasing it as a child would and was successful in doing that, one time even with Nerissa, who smiled, and praised her, and gave her a nice bottle of milk as a reward. ... but the successes stopped the next morning after that. Right at the breakfast table with everyone else around, Shannon felt an odd sensation in her rear, and before she knew what had happened, she was messing her diaper. Shannon froze mid-bite, moving a hand behind herself to pat at the diaper in disbelief. In the mornings she often just came to breakfast in a t-shirt and diaper and although no one seemed to mind her accidents, and she had started to care less and less each time. But this… doing it without warning, right at the breakfast table? She hadn’t even felt the need, just suddenly there was a warm mass pushing out of her. She slid out of her chair, rushing towards Nerissa's spot. "Um--Nerissa!" she whined, waddling and whining as it squished around. "Nerissa I made poo poo again!" Nerissa smirked, as some of the others at the table giggled. "Turn around hun," she said, in a somewhat admonishing tone. She proceeded to lift up the back of Shannon's night shirt, in front of everyone having breakfast, and pulled the back of her diaper out to check her like a toddler. "You sure did hun..." she said, letting the top gently snap back into place. "It’s okay hun, babies can't help it," she said with a warm smile, the word baby kind of rolling around Shannon's head. "Go back and finish your breakfast, we'll get you changed after." Shannon bowed her head, looking around the table. It was humiliating as could be... but the others were *just* as bad as she was! Most of the time, at least... sticking her tongue out at the other girls giggling at her and she toddled back over to her seat. Sitting down in her chair with a little squish. She continued to eat, her face completely red the rest of the meal. --------- Shannon was wearing a baby pink t-shirt underneath a sunflower yellow pair of shortalls today. It was a lot less embarrassing than the usual onesie she sometimes had on in the nursery. It didn’t even bother her that she never selected her own clothing any more, even if she did have some clear favorites and least favorites in her new wardrobe. "Hey there hun, I had a fun idea for today, you want to go to playground on the north side of the city?" Nerissa asked with a big smile. She was casually kneeling down next to Shannon, reaching a hand to unsnap some of the poppers along the arch of shortalls, to check her diaper. "Um, sure! That actually sounds like a lot of fun!" Her diaper was just a tiny bit damp, and she barely noticed the check, having grown used to them. Nerissa helped Shannon up, redoing the snaps to her overalls. "Well then I'll go pack a bag and we'll be all set, why don't you go find your shoes hun? Those overalls and that adorable shirt should be perfect for a day outdoors." Shannon nodded, poking around for her shoes. Her old tennis-shoes had gone missing one day, and they’d been casually replaced with pink, childish sneakers. Once she found those, she slipped them on and bounced over to the door, bobbing in place as she waited for Nerissa. Nerissa came back with a cloth diaper bag on her shoulder. It was a light pink with baby bunnies on it. The tall Amazon happily took Shannon by the hand and led her toward the front of the home where she'd left a stroller set up. Shannon blushed a little. A stroller? She could walk just fine! Still, she knew that it was probably a long walk... and the diaper made her waddle really badly... and she knew that Nerissa usually knew better than her. Without so much as a word, Nerissa lifted the Little up under the arms and placed her in the seat. It made the Amazon smile, not even an argument. She leaned down to pull a strap snugly up through Shannon's legs, connecting it to one around Shannon's waist, securing her in the baby stroller. She put the diaper bag on the tray under it, and gave Shannon a tickle on the nose. "All right hun, lets head to the park," she said, winking. She couldn't help but smile at how cute Shannon looked. Pink t-shirt, yellow overalls thickly bulging at the waist, obviously diapered. She was the perfect little baby girl, and she’d be ready for adoption soon. As they went, Shannon first started to look at people around her--watching them all go about their day, moving back and forth... it was mesmerizing. But after a few stifled giggles as they saw her, she focused off into the horizon, thinking about whatever came to mind--how good the milk she was fed was, how much fun the park would be... It took a good 10 minutes to walk across town, but it was a nice day out and the journey was pleasant. As nice as it was, Shannon still arrived as red as a beat. Still, it didn't matter, she told herself. She got to have fun at the playground, after all, and the gigglers didn't. And as Nerissa kept reminding the Little, what was wrong with being a baby? Shannon might not have fully believed it, but it was a useful thing to tell herself whenever she heard little snickers and giggles. Nerissa pulled the stroller up to the playground, pausing to unbuckle the strap and help Shannon out of the stroller. She placed the Little in the woodchip area of the slide and swingset, giving her puffy bottom a pat. "I'll be right over there on the bench hun, you have fun with the other kids," she said, leaving the Little who wasn't much bigger then about half a dozen Amazon babies and toddlers. Shannon blushed, bowing her head a little. It was a bit embarrassing to know that everyone else here was perhaps two dozen years younger. Still, she charged in, intent of having that not matter--after all, a slide was a slide, no matter who rode it! Nerissa watched with a warm smile as Shannon played. At first a little shy, and perhaps a bit timid as the other kids weren't entirely sure what to make of her. One Amazon baby girl was overly curious and gave the back of Shannon’s overalls a tug. It shocked Shannon enough that she felt her diaper suddenly warm as she wet it uncontrollably. But things settled down, and not long after, Shannon was having fun, riding down the slide, playing games, and generally toddling around with the other babies. It wasn't till about thirty minutes later, when Shannon was hardly aware of the passage of time that Nerissa got up to fetch her. Shannon could never get really used to a wet diaper. She wildly flipped between having not a single clue or care in the world, to awkwardly standing off to the side, her mind inseparable from the soaked padding. Most of the time, though, she was playing and having fun just like any of the actual babies. When Nerissa finally came to collect her, she didn't want to go. "We're right in the middle of a game of tag, though! Can I *pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase* keep playing?" Nerissa came over, and in front of the other kids, and a few giggling parents, unsnapped some of the poppers on Shannon's overalls, checking her diaper. "Aww hun, you're soaked, you can play tag again in a moment, but first it’s time for a little baby girl to get her diapie changed," she said, taking Shannon by the hand and leading her waddling away from the playground a second. She didn't go far, just back to the stroller to collect her bag and then taking a changing mat out of it. She started to set up the bench as a makeshift changing table. "Up you go," she said lifting Shannon up under the arms. Shannon kicked her legs slightly, blushing and looking at the other kids. Many were two or three, but some were older, and undiapered. Getting teased by people her actual age was one thing, but getting teased by people far younger with seemingly more maturity was another. But once again, Nerissa was right... she was absolutely soaked, so she needed a change. Maybe that's why she was having problems catching people in tag? Nerissa undid the rest of the snaps on Shannon's overalls, pulling them back up to her waist and revealing the wet diaper to the playground. Most of the parents and kids didn't bat an eye, a diaper change was nothing new here. But it was the first very public change for Shannon. Nerissa smiled good naturedly, getting out wipes, powder and some diaper cream as she undid the tapes to Shannon's diapers and pulled it away, lifting her up by the ankles to wipe her down like a baby. It was nice that no one minded... still, Shannon couldn't tear her eyes from the group, watching for anyone who might be staring. She still cooperated of course, helping Nerissa by lifting her legs up. "Um, thank you!" she said courteously, turning her attention back to the group again. Nerissa placed another thick and clean diaper down on the bench and lowered Shannon to it, she took out diaper cream and rubbed it in, before taking the powder and applying it liberally. Shortly after she brought the front up and taped it snugly on. She gave the little’s diaper front a rub. "There we go, all dry," she said, helping stand her up and redoing the snaps to her overalls. She sent the little away with a scoot and pat to her crinkling rump. "Go on and play a bit more hun, it’s a nice day." Shannon nodded, dashing off to the group. When the game of tag finished, she went to the slide, giggling with excitement as her rump slid down the slide over and over. She went down another four times, Shannon obviously enjoying herself and sinking into the reality that playing carefree with the toddlers could be pretty fun. She had lost track of time again until Nerissa came and lifted her up from behind. "All right hun, all that play had to have made you hungry by now," she said, smiling and tapping Shannon's nose. She carried the baby girl back over to the bench, before sitting down, reaching into her diaper bag, she taking out another full bottle. She helped Shannon sit back, craddling her to feed her a bottle. Some of the kids, most of whom younger giggled, as apparently Shannon was really just a 'little baby' even younger than them, as she was being fed like this. Shannon blushed a little, but in the moment, certainly couldn't find herself caring. After all, the milk tasted absolutely amazing and the others didn't have any. It was sweet, made her feel warm and soft inside... it was wonderful, even with the giggles in the background. Nerissa hummed softly, feeding Shannon. She let her nurse, and drain the somewhat large bottle, filling up her tummy with the liquid. After a full 7 or 8 minutes, the bottle was empty, and Nerissa helped Shannon up to her shoulder, giving her firm and gentle pats to her back, causing a few errant bubbles in her tummy to travel up and make the Little burp with a little line of milk hanging out the corner of her mouth. Nerissa cleaned it up gently with a wet cloth and brought the baby girl back to the playground, smiling and letting her play again once more. Although with a tummy full of milk, she was a bit more slow this time, getting a little more tired with the afternoon. Rather than the more active activities, the girl wandered over to the more relaxed ones, like the large tic-tac-toe board that was set up. Being so obviously an adult, she figured she would beat all the kids who tried--but of course, perhaps because of the milk fogging her mind, she wound up losing most of the matches. Pouting, she decided to head back to the slide for one or two quick goes. Shannon went down the slide twice grinning. She was getting tired, but she still wanted to do it again. She stuck her thumb in her mouth, climbing up a little slower and one handed to ride down once more. She giggled around her thumb, although all the milk her belly was sitting a little heavy now. She toddled away from the slide, walking a little slow as felt her bottom suddenly push out a big warm mess into the back of her diaper. She stopped and stood still a moment, sucking her thumb. She wouldn't be able to say why she just stood there, sucking... it could have been a babyish mindset, it might have been shock and awe, or a bit of the two. She stood there for about ten seconds after, just sort of staring, letting the feeling sink in, before spinning around and looking around at the other children. "Nerissssssssaaaaaa!" she whined, a new instinct from the home. It brought a lot of attention to her as she looked around for the Amazon. Nerissa had watched the whole thing, smiling as she’d seen Shanon slow, and then babyishly fill her pants. Nerissa had been tracking Shannon's progress, and even without the bottles, she lately seemed to be at that point where she legitimately needed diapers now. She waved and walked over to the suddenly panicked girl. "Aww hun, everything all right?" she said coming over and gently cupping a the side of her face in her hand. "Someone getting a little tired?" she asked as the girl looked so cute sucking her thumb. Shannon pressed couldn’t help but nudge the hand and try to lean against the taller woman. Looking for affection with tears forming in her eyes. "I--I made a poo poo..." she whined. Nerissa bent down and gave Shannon a hug, discreetly reaching a hand around to pat the girl's bottom, helping reassure her, and let her know that indeed, she'd had a messy accident, but it was okay. "Aww hun, it’s all right. C'mon, let’s get you back home for a nap. I only brought one diaper to the park." she said taking Shannon's hand and starting to walk the sobbing baby girl to the stroller. Nerissa had purposefully not brought a second diaper, planning on this with the milk. Shannon had learned to accept diapers, and she needed to learn to accept using them, and sometimes being stuck in them. Nerissa's consoling helped dramatically. Shannon winced as they walked, the mess mushing up against her. It was even worse when she was sat down in the stroller... but all that consoling was helping to dry the tears. Nerissa brought the strap up between Shannon's legs and around her waist once more, causing the girl to whimper a little as she was suddenly pressed into and held firmly to the mess in her diaper. It wasn't a completely bad feeling, kind of warm, mushy. Nerissa was quick to recognize the look on Shannon's face and reached into her bag pulling out Shannon's favorite stuffed animal and a pacifier. She slid the thumb from Shannon's mouth and pressed the pacifier in, kissing Shannon's cheek as she handed her the stuffed animal. "Just relax hun, it'll be a short ride back," she promised. And the milk was making her tired... although it would be a little bumpy. Shannon nodded, staying quiet and sucking on the pacifier. She did her best to relax, which was good... it let her feel the warm mushiness against her in a different way. The little bounces might have caused her to wince once or twice, but they wound up helping her come around to acceptance. Just 8 minutes into the 10 minute walk and nearly back, Shannon nodded completely off to sleep, being at peace enough with the load in the seat of her diaper to ignore it and rest. Nerissa smiled. This was a good step. The goal was total incontinence and acceptance of being a baby. A few more outings and gentle encouragements to get Shannon used to the feeling of wet and messy diapers, and she was sure the little girl would stop asking for immediate changes. Once back at the home, she unbuckled the sleepy baby and carried her toward the nap room, going for the changing table first. No need giving her a rash. The girl blinked and stirred a little as she was being changed. Nerissa spent a few moments wiping Shannon thoroughly to clean her bottom, before lowering her down onto another thick diaper. She grinned. "No worries hun, just giving you a diapie change before you go sleepy sleepy," she said, starting to apply diaper cream and powder to her. Shannon barely heard it, back to sleep shortly after. Nerissa taped up the thick diaper, helping Shannon up and removing her overalls. She left the girl in just the pink shirt she'd been wearing underneath and her diaper. She was placed and left to sleep peacefully in her crib. --------- Shannon had slept well. Her sleep had felt really good, and she had some memories of yesterday, but they were like dim lights in a fog. The milk had helped her dreams, crafting them to gentle childlike dreams of wonder and simple joy. Shannon didn't even stir an inch as she wet her diaper thoroughly in the night. This had become normal, and even as she woke up and sat with a slight squish, it only jostled her a tiny bit. Nerissa heard Shannon and was quick to let herself into the nursery, scooping up the Little and hugging her close, patting her back. "Morning sweetie," she said reaching into the crib and looking for her pacifier, easing it into the girl's mouth. "You just need a change huh?" she asked, pretending like this was completely normal, that the Little infant in her arms was just that, an infant who needed coddling. Nerissa set Shannon on the changing table and the Little went through an all too familiar diaper change. It'd been two, almost three weeks since she'd last even had a chance to use the potty. She was in thick diapers full time. She sucked her pacifier, while Nerissa lovingly cleaned her up. Her sleeper was removed, and she was given a cartoonish baby t-shirt, since it was warmer out, before being brought downstairs to breakfast… where for the first time she didn't sit at the table with the others, but instead was placed securely in a high chair. Shannon squirmed in place, looking down at the others. "mm--" she lifted a hand up to remove the pacifier. "How come I'm in the high chair?!" she whined, squirming in place in her crinkling diaper. "I can feed myself just fine!" Nerissa smiled, she liked head games early in the morning. "Oh you can? All right hun, I just thought the high chair would be a nice change of pace, if you can feed yourself," she said getting out a simple bowl of oatmeal and a small spoon that had a deceptive weight to it, and putting them both in front of her. "Finish it all up, and you'll get a nice bottle of your favorite milk," she smiled. Shannon snatched up the spoon, immediately fumbling with it a little. But after a few practice swings, she was sure she had it, so she went to snag some, only to drop the spoon entirely in the oatmeal. Nerissa sighed a bit dramatically, and reached in to reclaim the spoon, letting the need to do so go unspoken. She cleaned it off with a paper towel and then she got a pink cloth bib and wasted no time tying it around Shannon's neck. She pulled up a chair, took the bowl, and the spoon, and held out a scoop of warm oatmeal, smiling. "Come on hun." Shannon shook her head. "I just fumbled a little!" but still, she opened her mouth. She was hungry... and the idea of more milk was a wonderfully enchanting idea. It was a little awkward at first, but Shannon took a bite, and then another, and then another. There was a drip here, and a soft dab of a paper towel to Shannon's cheek to clean it away... and as the other residents came in and out for breakfast, it was apparent that Shannon was a baby this morning. Baby shirt, thick diaper, being fed in a high chair. Shannon gave a little whine, but otherwise, tried to move her attention back to the oatmeal. Not the best of foods to really focus on the taste, but still, better than the others since she got all of Nerissa’s personal attention. Having started with breakfast that day, both lunch and dinner had Shannon seated in a high chair with a bib around her neck. After another bottle of formula, which she had no power to resist, it was back to bed. Days started to go on like this, and while Shannon got more comfortable with the routine, there was still something nagging at the back of her mind, like something was wrong, like she'd forgotten something important. It was a day or two later, dressed in another pair of adorable overalls with a onesie underneath, doing nothing to hide her obvious diaper bulge, that Shannon was seated in her stroller. Nerissa was taking her back to the park. Baby Shannon had been well behaved and she needed a bit of excitement. Nerissa also seemed to be excited about something too. Oddly, the park wasn’t as empty as usual. In one corner of the park, there was a picnic going on… and oddest of all, it was a picnic of littles. Littles who were professional, and adult, at least as they appeared. There were five of them, and almost all watched Shannon curiously as she was helped out of her stroller when she arrived. The Littles were noticeably more aware that Shannon wasn't a baby then the Amazonian woman. It didn’t seem to meet Shannon’s attention though. To her, she almost entirely believed herself to be a baby after the weeks and weeks she’d been living such a life. There was something wrong somewhere in her mind, and that something bugged her when she saw the other group her size, but the rest of her and the want to have fun carried her towards the slide, which she rode down, giggling all the way. With a pacifier in her mouth, the cute babygirl waddled her way up the play structure and rode the slide another two times. The picnic group had all but stopped now, 5 girls watching her a bit stunned. They were acutely aware that Shannon was way too old to be in diapers, even if her size didn't seem to make the Amazonian parents in the park look twice. Two of the littles whispered something and looked over at Nerissa, who offered a polite wave, which had all the girls quickly look away. Another parent took a seat with Nerissa after a while, talking about motherhood and her own adorable Amazonian baby which size-wise wasn’t much smaller then Shannon. It was at this point that one of the Little's quietly made her way over to Shannon. The girl was a red-head with a neat little pony tail and a cute summer dress on. Maybe in her late 20’s. As Shannon went down the slide, she was waiting at the bottom. "Hi, what's your name?" she asked. Without breaking her stride, Shannon popped the pacifier out of her mouth. "Hi, I'm Shannon! Who're you?" she bobbed up and down in place at the bottom of the slide, brimming with infantile energy, crinkling with each little movement. The girl tilted her head. "Jacquline... erm, Jackie. Are you... ... you're not really a toddler right? I mean, we're Little, we can tell, even if the others," and she indicated the parents around the playground, including the Amazon chatting with Nerissa. "even if they can't." Shannon tensed her fingers up, unsure what to say. She had to think about what she even meant by "not really a toddler", at first. She sat there, umming and ahhhing for a second, looking at Jackie and then Nerissa. "...um, well--I... don't know?" she eventually settled on, looking confused and just a little bit embarrassed. "Are you wearing a diaper?" the Little asked, since it was fairly obvious under Shannon’s overalls. Little's could be blunt and very forward. Two of the other Little's from the picnic group had gotten up and were talking to each other just out of the playground area. "I, um... yeah." Shannon knew there was absolutely NO denying that one. "...and um... that makes me a baby, I guess!" she added, following Nerissa's usual line of thinking. Nerissa got up, along with the other parent who went to get her own child. Nerissa scooped up Shannon eliciting a meep of surprise as she was picked up just like a toddler. Jackie watched wide eyed, calling "You're not a baby!" in a quiet voice after Shannon. Even as she heard it, Nerissa had something new in store. She'd been working on readying the baby slowly, and sitting down on the bench with Shannon, she started to unbutton her top. Shannon squirmed. It was... weird hearing that from Jackie. She was a bit upset, and couldn't quite pin down why. She didn't want to call Jackie wrong, since Shannon's physical age was the same as hers... but people *could* be babies even if they were old, right? It was just so weird. Shannon looked up at Nerissa, staring as her top was unbuttoned and a maternity bra came into view. "...Are you... going to breastfeed me...?" she asked realizing the obvious. Shannon's paci hung on a ribbon attached to her overalls. Nerissa smiled and nodded at her. Nerissa was not fabulously endowed, just a modest C, but the nipple was already wet as she undid the clasp on the bra, the milk smelt very similar to what Shannon usually drank. "It’s okay hun, I know you must have a rumbly tummy, you can drink your fill baby girl," she coo'd. The wide eyes of the five Little's were watching Shannon intently now. There was a slight revulsion from Shannon, but then that smell, that milk she was soo used too, so … addicted too. Shannon nodded, casting a look over to the Littles. It was difficult to push herself towards doing it, but Nerissa was right, her tummy was all rumbly and that needed fixing. She curled up towards the nipple, latching on and starting to nurse hungrily. Nerissa cuddled Shannon to her, patting her head one hand, and patting her thickly diapered and crinkly bottom with the other as she cradled her. She was acting like an infant now, shamelessly nursing like a baby and drinking breastmilk. Some of the mothers in the park watched approvingly, but to them, Nerissa just looked like she was feeding a baby, to the Littles, they couldn't believe what they were seeing. "Did you make a friend hun?" Nerissa asked of Shannon, smiling and stroking her head as she nursed. Shannon didn't move her mouth off of the nipple, but she gave a small, mildly discontented grunt between little sucks. Nerissa nodded. "That's nice hun, we'll have to see about setting up a playdate with her some time. I know you have lots of friends at the home, but it’s always nice to have new friends," she grinned. She gave Shannon's bottom a few more crinkly pats, and almost by way of answer, Shannon started wetting her diaper, the padding swelling a little. "Aww such a good baby girl," Nerissa coo'd softly in her ear. Shannon blushed, hoping that the others wouldn't notice. She did take a small bit of pride in it, now... at least when Nerissa praised her. The praise felt good. And having a playmate would be a lot of fun! She finally moved herself off of the nipple, sighing as she finished drinking. Nerissa just moved the baby to the other teat. Baby girls could drink a lot and over feeding wouldn’t do much more then ensure a full diaper and a nap for Shannon. When she was finally finished being nursed, Nerissa adjusted Shannon to her shoulder, patting her back firmly. Shannon felt a little funny for a second, but then she gave out a little burp, with a tiny bit of spit up trailing down her chin. At the same time as her belch, her tummy cramped a little and helplessly her body pushed out a mess into her diaper. Positioned as she was on Nerissa’s shoulder, the seat of her overalls suddenly drooped and the Little's watching were able to see just how much of a baby she was, filling her diaper. Nerissa finished patting her back and gave her bottom a few pats, causing the mess to squish. "Such a good good baby," she repeated the praise. Shannon would have felt humiliated in front of the other Littles, but the praise helped offset that. She curled her hands around Nerissa, giving her a big squeeze. She didn't even think any more about how sudden her mess was, or how icky it felt--it was a warm sort of surprise to her now, and wasn't really a bad thing. Just a part of being her. Nerissa redid her top, and got up with Shannon, going over to her stroller and gently putting her in her seat before buckling her in. She made sure the buckles were snug, pressing her into her full diaper. Nerissa was still working on making her comfortable with having had an accident. She spoke softly to Shannon, "We'll chat with your friend before we leave," she grinned. "Do you think she'd like to come play with you at home? I bet you could show her how fun it could be." "I um... I dunno! She doesn't seem like a baby... but I'd love more friends!" Shannon giggled, unaware of what she was signing the girl up for. Nerissa nodded, wheeling the stroller toward the group of Littles which were now looking intently like they were busy picnicking. Nerissa stopped just behind the red headed one, tapping Shannon on the shoulder. "What was her name hun? Can you ask her to come here?" Shannon nodded, looking over to the group of Littles. "Jaaaaackie!" she called, bouncing in the chair (and her mess). She was excited for a new playmate! The red headed Little stood up a bit stiffly and came over, immediately looking shy before the taller Amazon and the girl in the stroller. She could smell that Shannon had a messy diaper, and her cheerfullness and the way she ignored what she’d done was a little unsettling to her. "Hi Shannon," she said with a slight wave. Nerissa smiled and leaned down to Shannon, "Go on hun, why don't you invite her to visit?" Shannon grinned. "Hey, can you join us at my house some time? It'd be a lot of fun to play with you!" Jackie's demeanor changed a little as she looked back to her friends, who seem to be focused on their activity. She thought a moment, and looking up, with a slight bit of resolve, she nodded. "Y-yes. I'll come visit some time, I think I have something I’d like to talk you to you about Shannon," she said. "We can spend some time being... big girls," she said with a slight glance at Nerissa and lowering her voice to say the last part. It was the only thing she could think of in terms of fixing whatever was wrong with Shannon. Shannon tilted her head, looking confused. "Well... you can be! But I don't think I am..." she squirmed a little in the seat, making a small meep at the feeling of her diaper. "But yeah, come visit, please!" The other girl scurried back to her friends and Nerissa put the paci back in Shannon's mouth, pushing her in the stroller back home for a diaper change and an afternoon nap. “I really do hope she visits,” the Amazon smirked. --------- It was just after Shannon had been fed a full dinner of baby food in what had become her personal high chair, that Nerissa had decided to give her another lesson. Quietly taking the babygirl to her office by the classroom, she took a seat in the rocking chair with her. She started to rub at the front of Shannon's diaper, rocking them both in the chair gently. Shannon had grown slightly used to having her diaper, and chest rubbed on occasion. Even if it was still a bit weird, she quickly settled into the chair, sighing out a pleased and aroused little breath. Nerissa continued to rub at the front of her diaper, waiting till she got a slight moan with the loud crinkling. "Feels nice doesn't it hun?" Shannon nodded, letting out a few soft whines. "Y--yeah... it's really really nice feeling... it's ama--ah! oooh..." she leaned her head in, resting it against Nerissa’s chest. Nerissa traced a finger around Shannon’s ears, continuing to rub her diaper, smirking as the baby’s hips were moving in time with her hands. "That's a good baby girl... such a good baby girl," she said, sweetly whispering. "You want to do something for your caretaker baby?" Shannon nodded, beaming. The praise made her really happy. She softly grinded against the woman's hand, her hands softly kneading Nerissa's lap. "Use your diaper, do everything in it that you can, feel how good it is to let go in your diaper," she encouraged. It was something they’d done before, but she had a more specific intent for it today. Shannon squirmed, pushing herself against the woman's hands. "... I dunno if I can though... I don't really feel it anymore, so I don't know if I need to..." she let out a few grunts, trying her hardest. At first, it seemed she definitely didn't need to--but then, all at once, her diaper start to fill. "O-oh gosh!" she whined, the diaper taking on a new feeling as she was rubbed.” Nerissa grinned, easing her hand from Shannon's ear to move the girl slightly, starting to bounce her on a knee and focus both hands now on the front of her diaper. "Such a good girl, filling up your diaper, but there's still something more you can do," she said caressing the front of Shannon's diaper. The conditioning was going well, Shannon was addicted to the milk, nearly incontinent, and on the verge of a sexual connection between her diapers, and best of all, accepting that she was a baby. Shannon bounced, grinding against Nerissa's hands and genuinely enjoying the feel of her diaper. It wasn’t long before she was starting to dissolve into a body shaking orgasm. Just as she was peaking, Nerissa leaned forward and whispered in Shannon’s ear, right at her most susceptible moment. “From now on you are forever unpotty trained…” she whispered, “You will be in diapers the rest of your life… and I will always be your mommy.” The words invaded Shannon’s mind just as she was shattered and racked by orgasm, whimpering and shuddering as she came in her full diaper. Even if she didn’t fully understand it, her body processed it. She’d never feel the need to go again, and she’d found her mommy. It was over, she was officially a baby again. The poor baby was panting and spent after that. She was more than ready for an early bed time... after a diaper change and short pre-bed feeding straight from the teat of course. She was already asleep before she finished nursing. Not long after she’d been dressed in a new thick diaper under a purple onesie, and laid down in her crib. --------- Nerissa was relaxing on a couch in the large playroom at the home. She was dressed in a casual spring dress, her feet in flip flops and her hair falling lazily about her shoulders as she read from a book. Shannon was on the floor nearby, playing. Today Shannon was dressed in a short blue denim dress, and a pink t-shirt under it. Her bottom was covered in a frilly diaper cover and it caught the back of her dress, holding it up slightly to show her padded backside. Shannon seemed to flip back and forth, alternating between hyperactivity and calmness. Half of the time, she would contently color, nearly silent, while the other half of the time she'd be bolting from one activity to another, giggling and laughing to herself. Right now, she was hyper, waddling across the room to grab various toys, which she was busily building into a large fort in one of the corners of the room. At a knock from the door, Nerissa looked up. She put her book down and looked over to Shannon, just to make sure the babygirl was okay, before going to the door and finding that a Little was waiting outside. It was the girl that Shannon had briefly met at the park. "Oh hello there hun, have you come to play with Shannon?" she asked. The red head nodded shyly, looking around Nerissa to Shannon. "It's Jackie... uh, Ma'am," she said, before being invited in. She barely even acknowledged Nerissa and went right to Shannon. "Psst... we need to talk." "Um, okay! What do you wanna talk about?" Shannon asked innocently, paying only half attention. She was busy building a stack of baby blocks as a sort of flag for her fort. Jackie was wearing a simple short dress and a pair of loose shorts under it. She couldn't help staring at Shannon though. The way the other Little was dressed as a toddler, hair in a pony tail, pink shirt, obvious thick diaper under her denim dress... and not only that, but the red head knew that the other Little used her diapers. "You're... not really a baby," she whispered, watching as the amazon walked across the room to take a seat on the couch, getting her book. She tried to speak so she wouldn't be heard. Shannon shook her head, confused. "I don't understand..." she thought about it a little, stopping her construction. "...Mommy says I’m a baby." It was so firmly in the Little's mind, now. After a few seconds, she found her thumb slipping into her mouth, on reflex as she tried to think hard. After all, her hands weren't being used, so why not? Jackie shook her head, "Just because you look like a baby, doesn't make you one," she said putting a hand out to touch the front of the girl's diaper. Jackie was doing it mainly to confirm that the other girl was indeed wearing it, but what she didn't know was how thorough Nerissa's training had been recently. Which included helping Shannon to really like and enjoy her diapers. The slight bit of pressure on the front of her diaper made her tingle. Shannon half shut her eyes, whimpering ever so slightly around her thumb. It was hard to pin down exactly what it was, with the thumb in the way. Curiously, though, the girl held totally still as the Little held her diaper, not jumping away or even flinching at all. It seemed she was quite used to having her diaper touched! Jackie looked a little surprised as Shannon seemed to straighten, and she tugged her hand away as suddenly the diaper began to warm. The baby was peeing, but by the look on her face, she had no idea. Jackie gasped, perhaps she was in over her head, perhaps Shannon was already a baby and there was no saving her. After a few seconds, Shannon opened her eyes. "...Jackie? What's wong?" she asked after a few seconds, still sucking her thumb. Nerissa noticed the odd occurrence out of the corner of her eye, and put her book down, getting up to go over to the two Littles. "Uh oh... I think someone has a wet diapy," she said coming up from behind to tickle at Shannon's sides. Jackie took a step back from Nerissa, watching the exchange nervously as if it was something dangerous. The babygirl's dress was raised and it was confirmed that she was indeed wet. "Why don't you go get a new diaper and some wipes from the corner Shannon, I'll grab the changing mat from my bag," she said, fully intending to change her right here on the floor. Jackie was dead silent watching them both. Shannon dashed away, waddling noticeably as she snagged a few diapers and the box of wipes from the baby bag in the corner of the play room. She jumped down, laying out right next to her fort as Nerissa got the mat. She was laying down in front of Jackie and she looked up, blankly, hardly realizing that her and Jackie were having a conversation before. Nerissa lifted Shannon's dress up, smiling and giggling. "Why'd you bring so many diapers hun?" she asked, "You bring extra for Jackie?" she teased. The other Little gasped at the thought. “I’m only teasing,” Nerissa laughed at her good naturedly, letting her know she wasn't being serious (for now). Jackie had an instinct to leave, something was not right, but at the same time, something magnetic compelled her to stay. She knew what happened to some littles, and if there was any chance of saving Shannon, it'd be important to save her. She simply turned aside, letting the diaper change finish. Shannon was very used to it by now, thinking nothing as her legs were lifted by the ankles, she was thoroughly wiped, diaper rash cream applied, and finally followed by a healthy dusting of powder before being taped into a thick fresh diaper. "Can I get you something to drink Jackie? It's just about time for Shannon's bottle," Nerissa said, taking the wet diaper balled up, and throwing it away. Jackie nodded dumbly, not sure what else to say, and Nerissa returned a moment later with a sippy cup and baby bottle. Both filled with the same thing. Jackie was handed the cup and she looked at it with a frown as Shannon was given her bottle. Shannon happily stuck the nipple in place of her thumb, drinking hungrily. After a few seconds, Shannon lowered the bottle, looking at Jackie. "Drink! It's really really yummy." Shannon sat up, drinking away at the bottle, shuffling around a bit to get comfortable. Jackie watched Nerissa sit on the couch once more and looked at the sippy cup. "What's in it?" she asked, curiously. She wasn't about to degrade herself by drinking from the cup and managed to pry the top off. Nerissa noticed this, but didn't say anything. The red head gave the drink a worried sniff. "Milk!" Shannon giggled, getting about halfway through the bottle. She stretched out, feeling a little bit sleepy now. Still, she seemed determined to finish that fort--she stood back up, bottle in one hand, a toy in the other, trying to complete her build. Jackie stared at her drink a moment. It did smell like milk, but something was a bit off. She looked over at Nerissa again, worriedly, but there was something about the milk that smelt really really good. She tipped it up to her lips, taking a taste, and her eyes widened as she took a little more of a sip, which turned into a gulp, and soon she'd finished off her cup. "That.. was pretty good," she said nodding. She watched Shannon building her fort for a minute or two, trying to decide how best to handle the situation... oddly, she was starting to feel tired too as she saw the other girl yawning. Nerissa checked her watch, it'd be nap time for two Little's shortly. As they worked, Shannon finished her bottle too. She kept working, but she slowed to a literal crawl, and began to yawn every so often. She looked back at Jackie, nodding. "Yeah! It's pretty good, I love my milkies..." Not having been used to drinking nearly as much as Shannon, the redhead was not used to its effects, and even as Shannon was crawling around, yawning around her thumb, Jackie had managed to nod off, her back against the wall. Shannon noticed this after she finally completed the fortress. She crawled over to Nerissa, giving her pant leg a small tug. "I think we need naps mommy..." she yawned, resting herself against Nerissa's leg. Nerissa closed her book, smiling at the two adorable girls. She scooped up Shannon first, "I think you're right hun, let’s get your stuffed animal and your pacifier, and we'll put you down for a nap in your crib," she smiled, bumping noses with Shannon lovingly. She carried the Little on her hip for a moment. bringing her back to the nursery and doing what she said, getting her pacifier and teddy bear before easing her down into her crib. "I'll be right back, I'm going to go get Jackie and set up a nap mat in here, I don't think she'd like the crib," she said teasingly. Nerissa went back out into the playroom, scooping up the younger girl. She was out cold, the milk having hit her hard for the first time. Nerissa couldn't help a grin, she knew this girl would be consigned to diapers and being a baby soon. She brought her back into the nursery, setting up a mat on the floor and laying the girl with a blankie atop it. Shannon grinned sleepily as she watched, squeezing the teddy bear. It was nice to have a playmate, even if she was a little bit unfun sometimes with her ‘not a baby’ talk. Hopefully she'd stop insisting Shannon was a big girl. Shannon laid down, letting her eyes drift shut. The girls slept easily. A milk induced sleep was one free of stress. Shannon slept deeply and with wonderful dreams, hugging her teddy, occassionally sucking on her paci in her sleep. She rested so soundly, that the milk's effect didn't even wake her. Her bottom pushed out a warm mess into the back of her diaper just like a baby. And not far away from her, napping fitfully on the mat, Jackie wasn’t far behind. Her body processed the milk and her bladder released in her sleep, causing the ‘adult’ girl to soak her panties, dress and naptime blanket. At the girls woke up, it would be nothing out of the ordinary for Shannon. For Jackie though, she awake with a start, letting out a startled shriek as she realized what had happened to herself. The red head started to cry, not trying to be too loud and bring Nerissa. Shannon sat up in her crib, looking at the distressed girl across from her with a big wet spot. At first, it was a little hard to believe--she was such a big girl! But after a few seconds, Shannon tried to reassure her. "Don't worry--it's not that bad! I mean... well... I'll call Mommy and she'll clean you up! Mommy!!" she called out, watching the crying girl. Jackie hopped up, still crying and tripping over the blankets around her ankles for a second. She came over and tried to put her hands on Shannon to shush her and keep her from bringing the Amazon. It didn't help, a moment later Nerissa walked in with her long legs. "Oh, someone up from their nap? Smells like someone has a stinky diaper," she said smiling. Her eyes were quick to see the red headed girl next to the crib, with the wet spot on the back of her dress. Sensing this, Jackie let out an eep, backing away from Shannon. "Oops, looks like there was more than one accident during naptime," Nerissa said. She quietly shut and locked the door behind her, going for Shannon first to change her baby. Shannon lifted her arms up, giggling as she was lifted. She didn't seem to realize that Jackie didn't want Mommy to be called. Why not, after all? Did she want to stay in her wetness? That wasn't that weird for the home she supposed, but if she just said that to Nerissa, she'd understand! Or maybe it was that she was a big girl... or, well, apparently not! "Jackie hun, its okay, sometimes girl's have accidents. I'm not upset," she said in a calming and familiar manner that Shannon could almost recognize. "Let me take care of my baby here and we'll get you sorted. Jackie was too mortified to answer, hands covering her rear and backing herself around the crib so that she was always on the opposite side of Nerissa. Meanwhile the Amazon carried her baby, lovingly laying her down on the changing table and going through a routine diaper change for her. Wipes, rash cream, more powder, and a thick diaper later, Nerissa set the babygirl down on the floor. "Why don't you go get her for me," Nerissa said with a pat to her diapered bottom. "I think she's scared and embarrassed." Shannon nodded, crawling over to Jackie. "Jackie?" she asked, softly prodding the girl’s arm. "Mommy's all ready to clean you up... don't worry, it happens! If you really hate it, you gotta get clean and get it gone!" Jackie was reluctant a moment, looking at Shannon and resisting. "You're not a baby Shannon, you're not... and I didn't have an accident, she did something to me! I've never had an accident before like this," she whimpered. Nerissa could hear her of course, but she remained quiet a moment. Shannon shook her head. "Well--accidents happen! I am a baby, and if I didn’t have my diapers I’d make puddles everywhere!” She giggled. “Mommy’s really nice and she'll get you all squeaky clean." There was something innocent and truthful in Shannon's face, and slowly, unsuredly, Jackie came out, walking bowlegged with an obvious accident spot between her legs. It felt gross, and she did want to get cleaned up. She couldn't look at Nerissa as she was led over. "It's okay hun," the Amazon echoed her baby's statement, very proud of the girl for how she'd handled it. "I'll have you all cleaned up and right as rain. I bet you’re worried that I'm going to put you in a diaper huh? Well, I can, if that's what you want?" to which the red head quickly shook her head no, and Nerissa laughed, "I didn't think so. I don't have any clean panties in your size, I do have pull-ups though." The girl whimpered at that, but defeated as she was, there wasn’t much she could do. Nerissa helped her get cleaned up, having her stand as she carefully took some wipes and a small baggy to wad up the wet panties and short and put them in. The little didn’t let go of the baby’s hand the hold time. Shannon squeezed her hand back, smiling all the while. She was really glad to be of assistance! "See?" she sighed, softly resting herself against the changing table. "Mommy's really nice and stuff! She's only here to help." Freshly cleaned, with pull-ups under a short dress that was designed to be worn with shorts, Jackie was quick to excuse herself. Nerissa reassured her that if accidents do happen once more, and that it was okay, and if she needed help with future accidents that she knew where the home was. She also invited her back for lunch whenever she wanted it... The red head was quick to make any excuse she could and escape the place as soon as the nursery door was unlocked. Nerissa and Shannon watched her go. "I think she's a shy girl who needs some friends Shannon," Nerissa said, scooping up her baby girl, carrying her on a hip as she watched the little practically sprint down the front walk, her pull-up easily visible under her dress. Shannon nodded. "I wanna find her some time again! Maybe we could stop by the playground soon and see if she's ever there again?" Shannon rested herself against the amazon's chest, softly tugging at the bottom of her shirt. Nerissa grinned and began to unbutton her shirt, hugging Shannon close. "I think she'll be back some time. She looked like she really enjoyed that milk," Nerissa winked. Her bra was next to go, leaving the girl's pert chest bare before Shannon. She removed the babygirl's pacifier and moments later she was breastfeeding again. --------- Heyo, I'm reposting this after getting a few messages about it. I've slowly been working on a pseudo-sequal about Jackie. No date of release to announce, just 'sometime in the future'.
  10. As I start to wear more often, I realize sometimes I have accidents. Like without really noticing. Luckily they've happened at home. Has anyone else had this? If so did you do anything about it?
  11. Chapter one The first thing Amber was aware of as she woke up was that her head was a little fuzzy. She groaned as she realised that she had too much to drink last night. The next thing she became aware of was that she was not in her bed, but on her friend Samantha’s sofa, and Sam was stood over her looking very pissed off. “Look at what you’ve done,” said Sam. Amber followed Sam’s gaze down to her crotch, and realised that she was lying in a wet patch. She reached under the skirt she was still wearing from the night before and felt that the tights underneath were wet, and clinging to her. “I…I don’t understand,” said Amber as she began to realise what had happened. “Let me clear things up for you then,” said Sam, “You had too much to drink, embarrassed yourself at the party by laying across some old perv’s lap so he could ‘spank’ you, then you came back here with me, because you were worried that your mum would be annoyed if you came home that drunk. You woke up all the neighbours on the way in, and my little brother and sister. Then you collapsed on my sofa and to top it all off, you’ve gone and pissed yourself all over it.” “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed,” said Amber. She wasn’t lying. The rest of it was quite bad, but wetting herself was incredibly humiliating. She’d never had an accident, at least not since being old enough to remember. Holly, a girl at school a few years back had, and she had been teased mercilessly for it, and Amber had joined in with the teasing. One particular comment was coming back to haunt her now. Amber had told Holly that if she still wet her knickers like a baby, she should wear nappies. Amber had thought it funny at the time. She didn’t anymore. “You should be embarrassed, and you will be. You’re my friend, and I’ve tried to warn you not to drink so much when we go out. Anything could happen to you. Luckily for you, my parents are away, so I can teach you a little lesson today.” “Teach me a lesson?” asked Amber. She didn’t like where this was heading. “Yes. You won’t like it, but just in case you get any ideas…” Sam showed Amber a picture on her phone. It showed Amber, lying on the sofa in the school uniform costume she had worn to the party last night. Her face was clearly visible. As if the puddle she was lying in wasn’t telling enough, her knees were up and her legs parted, giving a clear view up her skirt. It was very obvious that she had wet herself. “Are you blackmailing me?” asked Amber. “I guess I am,” said Sam. “I don’t want to send this to anybody. If you do as you’re told, you’re going to have a very embarrassing time, but it won’t leave this house. If you refuse to co-operate, then this goes out to all our friends. Your call.” Amber thought about it, but only briefly. That picture could not get out. She had seen what had happened to Holly, had been part of it, when she had wet herself, and they had all been younger then. She didn’t want everybody knowing her dirty secret. “What do you want me to do?” Amber asked.
  12. Dan was a twin, at 12 years old and had just started secondary school with his twin brother. They both had a secret like for diapers and wanted to wear again, but didn't know how to tell their parents. It was the evening after school, and the twins were sitting watching TV, their parents sitting on the couch, and a diaper commercial came on the TV and both their faces lit up, the parents noticing the boys intently staring at the packs of diapers shown. Mike, the boys father looked at his wife "they seem to like the diaper commercials honey? good thing they don't wear diapers anymore" he laughs
  13. Chapter 1 You lay sprawled, legs resting open naturally to either side of your wet diaper. Cold slender hands slide to take a firm hold of your soft wrist cuffs to transition them with a click to the locking clips by your shoulders. This was standard practice of all households enrolled in the program; although for you, it was almost unnecessary of course since by now you’ve learned it’s better to lie still. A pacifier nurses in and out of your mouth as the first tapes are ripped free by the practiced hands of your Civil Caregiver. Today Sammantha appears in no rush. You feel the diaper lowering, slowly, coaxing you to look at the yellow patch between your legs. Your cheeks burn and you look quickly back to the side to ignore the knowing look on your Caregiver’s face. A wipe is dropped dismissively before a hand joins it. A firm hand gathers your ankles and lifts them to reach any wetness that spread to your bottom. A few moments of loud crinkling follows until the brush of your newest diaper is under you. As the first light tap of cool powder begins, the doorbell rings. Samantha pauses mid-shake, the powder bottle hovers poised above you as she seems lost in an internal debate. You were clean and safely strapped down so she didn't see the harm in leaving you. She lowers your legs to either side of your diaper and sets the powder aside to answer the door. “Ms. Withers?” The voice reaches the nursery and you can glance far enough to see a man in a dark suit and tie standing on the doorstep politely removing his hat. “I’m here for a routine inspection of your charge. May I come in?" "Oh, yes of course!" Samantha beams, eager to show him inside. “I’m sorry if I don't shake. I was just dealing with a very full diaper!” Sam was always completely hygienic with your changes of course, but couldn’t pass up the chance to be a little showy. “That's impressive considering Y/N's age and short length of time sentenced to your care." The inspector said, referencing a file and clicking his pen to take note.Samantha excitedly ushers him to your nursery. You still lay dusted with powder caught in the middle of your diaper change. Seeing the man enter, your knees instinctively crunch closed in your concern for modesty. "Nuh huh!" Sam shakes her finger storming right over to you. ”You know that's a no-no! Even when guests arrive. Open!” Sam spanks you, so suddenly and so hard, you flinch against your changing straps and tinkle a little. Samantha despite a fair amount of strain can’t keep her composure and breaks into a fit of giggles at your toddler-befitting accident before grabbing a wet wipe to drag down your front again and dust the spot with another quick cool puff of powder. The inspector nods approvingly. "She seems very far along." he observes, noting the time and incident. “Now, before we go any further. I need to see more evidence of her regularity." He crosses the few remaining steps inside the nursery to inspect your diaper pail. "...My goodness.” He pauses peeking at the taped bundles inside. “Does she really need changes this often?" He sees your used diapers are almost filling the pail to the brim. Undeterred, he begins counting the number of times you've failed to keep clean, tallying each used pair in his notebook before praising the healthy ratio of wet to messy diapers he sees. "That's right.” Your Caregiver gleefully adds with a self-satisfied smile. “She needs her diaper changed after every nap or bedtime; she fills them right up. Doesn’t even notice not even when she's messing." She grins. "Incredible work," the inspector mutters writing that down in his notes as well. "Now what about when she's awake?" "I'm so glad you asked.” Sam intoned with a pompous air and smile. “She ends up having accidents, like you saw, wetting them mostly. I always give her more than the recommended number of chem bottles and fiber feedings so she’s almost always ready to let go. I know it's not strictly necessary, but I just love catching her in the act. One time, I was cradling her in my lap for her bottle feeding, and I could tell she was struggling, so I gave her just the tiniest of presses, and the little girl completely let go! She was wetting her diaper so heavily against me, I wondered if it was even going to hold it all! Speaking of which...” She eyes you trapped on the table. “Let me finish up her change before she might make a mess." She tuts over to you on the changing table and makes a big show of pulling up her big girl's diaper, once so defiant, now being wrapped up in a disposable. "Then can see why you've chosen the thicker variety." the man observes over your caregiver’s shoulder while she readies your diaper’s tapes. "Oh my yes. I can only keep her in the most absorbent overnights." Sam says securing the tapes over your crinkling diaper’s bulk as if to demonstrate. “She is just such a heavy wetter and her messes need somewhere to go." She pinches you, finishing up the last tape seal with a rub. "But I do love how these diapers still come in the little baby prints. Don't you? She really does look like an overgrown baby this way. Yes she does. Yes she does," she coos and tickles you. "And what a good baby you've been! Waiting quietly while the grown ups talked. You didn't even fuss for your paci." "And how is the progress there?" "Let me show you." She deftly procures your pacifier from where it had fallen and slides it between your resigned lips. They see you suckle tentatively at first, then more prominently and Samantha's grin widens. She leans in, praising her well-trained suckling baby, pressing a hand strategically into your diaper's noisy thickness. She coyly steals a glance at the inspector for his reaction. Needless to say, his eyebrows are high with appreciation as you fidget and turn to hide the heat building in your face. He clears his throat. "Well, I certainly have no further questions." He states tidying up his materials. "Ms. Withers your work here is outstanding. I am recommending you for a higher position in our efforts, and I'm sure our director will want to meet with you," he adds confidently, tucking your folder away and donning his hat. "Oh pish posh." Samantha says bashfully still idly groping at your softly rustling diapered crotch. “Simply following the prescribed number of spankings and dirtying of diapers have gotten us to this point, Mr. Inspector." She smiles. Chapter 2 - A Teaching Moment Locked in your car seat and thickly diapered for what was becoming a lengthy road trip. Your binky rattled with each curious suckle watching the scenery speed past. Your head bobs and eventually the blur of trees lulls you off to sleep. You awake hours later, groggily lifting your head to feel cool air against your thighs and the probing rustles of Samantha’s fingers checking your diaper. She had pulled the car into a rest stop and was leaning through the opened back door for your inspection. "As expected...Come on honey let's get you a new diaper and that stinky one changed.“ You’re confused and burning withshames, but she simple repositions your clothes over your used diaper and unbuckles you from your car seat. Your packed diaper bag is already waiting for you by the curb. She takes your hand, but your head shakes ever so slightly. "...Are you telling Mommy no?" She warns. You nervously look past her again at the crowded rest stop full of proper citizens happily picnicking and enjoying the springtime sun. But one more stern look from your caregiver and you slide yourself out from the car. She walks you past the chatty vacationers towards the public restroom, swinging your packed diaper bag over her shoulder and tugging you along in tow, waddling and struggling to keep up. Some onlookers paused their conversations to snicker at your pacifier and your struggles to walk some even outright laughed noticing your loaded seat was most likely to blame. Samantha drags you inside the woman's restroom to its designated diaper changing counter. She unfurls one of your Issued changing mats to place your mushy pants on top of. She babytalks gleefully proudly pulling down your outergarments, and opening your diaper to reveal your mess. "Phew. I'm glad we stopped when we did or this would have gotten ripe honey. You're also so soaked!" Your cheeks flared. It was still so difficult to accept you were filling your diapers without any indication, but only while you slept! She pushes your legs up to your chest causing your hips to rock back off your dirty diaper to remove it. She dumps it neatly into the restroom's fragrant pail, then gets to work cleaning you up with wet wipes. "That's it honey." She coos. "Just lay still so Mommy can clean all your poopy peepee..." She takes her time. Each chilly stroke longer than the last; slowing even further when people start to enter the public restroom, hoping they’d take notice. "My my." An older lady sneers noticing you on the counter with diapers and dirty wipes. "And here I thought they could control themselves." "...Oh no.” Sam chuckles finishing up her last clean swipe. She holds up your next massive diaper for the woman to see; its rounded thickness hangs open bottom heavy in the air. ”See how much protection she needs? And they get put to good use, believe me.” Sam whisks the diaper beneath you, shaking her head like a put-upon mother accepting potty training was never going to happen. The lady puffed with patriotic pride. "See to it.” She sniffed haughtily before thanking Sam for her service and taking care of her own business the grown up way while Sam continued your change with practiced precision. She was just finishing up arranging you bottoms-up for powdering when another woman approached. "Excuse me...” She began. “I couldn't help but notice...I've been thinking of volunteering for the cause myself. Do you mind if I lend a hand with the rest of her diaper change?" Happy to oblige, and eager to recruit Caregiver potential, Sam agrees wholeheartedly. She dusts a few light groupings of powder onto your waiting bottom before passing the bottle on to your babysitter-in-training. “See? Nothing to it. Just sprinkle some more of her baby powder onto her bottom...” Sam prompts waiting for the woman to begin. "...Just like that! You're a natural! You can add a little more powder if you want. Yes, yes, unfortunately for her, that is a small case of diaper rash. We've been on the road so it's hard to change her when she needs it. Go ahead and add lots of powder to keep her dry. Perfect! Now use your hand to rub it in...spread it out evenly...her little bum-bum is so soft all powdered up, isn't it? Now, I'm going to lower her down onto her diaper." Your powdered bottom is soon cradled in soft padding and Sam arranges your legs to allow plenty of room to work. "She's smooth?" The woman asked inquisitively as she fiddled with the baby powder. "Can you imagine if she wasn’t?" Samantha smirked, wiggling one of your lazily hanging toes. "With the amount of poo-poo and pee-pee this one can squirt out, her changes would take hours!" Dustings of powder tickle down with their giggles and side laughter, adding a thin fragrant coating between your legs. You do your best to ignore it, but cool teasing fingers spread the powder all over your diaper area then you hear loud crinkly rustling, and feel the firm press of your newest diaper pulled up tight. "Now we keep it nice and snug. Oh, no pun intended!" Samantha giggles. "These are adult Snuggies diapers. I'm so glad they make them for us. I find they work best for her." A few more giggles and sticky adhesives were required before Samantha finally helps you sit up, crinkling all the while against the counter as she takes your binky. "What do you say now sweetie? Oh, what was that...?” She cups her ear. “I'm sorry dear we couldn't quite hear you. Shouldn't you say something about your diaper? Remember? Use your words..." Finally you just break down and say it. "That's right!" Samantha cheers patronizingly. "Your diapey is all nice and changed thanks to her. We appreciate your gratitude." She returns your binky, pulls up your pants, and takes your hand thanking the woman herself and exchanging contact information before walking you back out to the car. Chapter 3 An industrial complex looms from your vantage point in the rear car seat. The car pulls up to a security gate and a guard steps out to meet you. Sam hands him her ID with a smile. He moves to check the back seat, and upon seeing you, smiles wickedly, hands your authorized CG her ID back and waves her through with a respectful salute. You feel the squish in your pants from your long trip and watch nervously as the car pulls into a parking space. You had fought the urge for as long as you could. You had your wits about you and so could fight, but one miss-timed bump in the road had left you gasping as you sprayed into your thirsty diaper. Sam knew those sounds well and had simply smirked into the rear view. Samantha gets out the of the front seat taking your diaper bag from the passenger and comes back to open up the door to unbuckle you. She keeps a firm grip on your hand as she walks you through large automatic doors and up into a reception area. "Ms. Withers, Welcome!" a beaming young professional greeted with a file folder in hand. She crouches down condescendingly to you. “And who is this? Y/N? They thought she'd be more trouble..." She teased suggestively with a knowing smile back up to your 'Mommy.' "Oh no trouble at all." Sam waved off the compliment. "In fact do you have a place where I can change her? She's always wet after her naps." "You've perfected that technique?" The receptionist asked with a hint of surprise. "She's only a few years younger than you...” She looks down, flipping open your file. “It says here she's soiling her diapers as she sleeps while under your direct influence. I must say, Ms. Withers, your progress is unprecedented." "It's the least I can do." Sam simpered. "It's my civic duty after all, and I've been working on ways to make it happen while she's awake too. That's what her types really need. Sure she can have accidents from what not, but it's more beneficial when she doesn't realize her diaper is, how we say, growing right out from under her.” She grinned down, shaking your hand a little at your shared, but obviously one-sided joke. ”I know certain treatments have been proposed,” she continued, “but I find we as the Caregivers lose too much control over them that way as well. It's so much better when the baby gets commanded. Isn't it honey?” She taps your hand. "I eventually want to be able to snap my fingers and I see her diaper droop, but I understand her kind have been a stubborn nut to crack and we are still a ways away from that ideal." The receptionist smiles. "And that is precisely why we've called you in today, Ms. Withers. We're hoping you can bring new innovations to our program. If you would just follow me,” she holds out her hand. “I'll lead you to one of our examination rooms where you can change her." A maze of stark corridors followed then a steel door was unlocked with the beep of a keycard to reveal a brightly decorated examination room obviously designed to embarrass bigger babies. ”Feel free to use the diapers provided.” The receptionist indicated the stacks. “And of course any of the changing supplies." She added Sam got right to work after expressing her thanks by unceremoniously tugging you up onto the room’s padded table for a change. Just as your nearly leaking diaper was being brought down the receptionist gave a little wave by the door. "Bye bye, Pottypants." She giggled. “Be good for Mommy, okay? I'll be back to check on you in a little while." Quick Note: I was considering reworking this to be a third person story. I'm happy to hear ideas! I almost always edit a few parts after posting.
  14. Ive been staying up all night and my diaper has been filled all the way. Started by going on all fours with a towel underneath then did the same on the bed which is very wet still. I also went outside covering my wet nappy with black
  15. I have ultra super thick plastic backed gallon drinking diapers, I have midway diapers like abena L4s, and northshore supreme. What im missing is something I can throw on quickly and rely on like a medium duty diaper. Anyone here a pull up conisour that can help me make a decision?
  16. New to wearing diapers but I wanted to know if I wet a diaper how long can you stay in it and what fun can I get up to in wet or messy diaper?
  17. Skullgirls05

    Chie and Yukiko wet

    From the album: Pics commissioned by Merunyaa

    Chie and Yukiko realizes they may have just had an accident ;P
  18. What is the difference between the Big Kid Training Pant and the My First Training Pants? Can they hold a full wetting? http://www.baby-pants.com/training_Pants.php#p7GPc2_2
  19. I've already suggested to Mike that it would add more clarity to the IC board to add a bit more focus. To just have IC desires and bedwetting is
  20. Hello, all you lovely people! Recently, one of my ABDL sisters brought to my attention a site for ABDL hypnosis and I wanted to share it with you. The site is called "My Little Lullaby" and it is a site where you can buy lots of different trance recordings and even order custom tracks. The tracks follow the same kind of suggestive messages you find in meditation recordings and the like and are meant to encourage ABDL behaviors you would like to have more often. I have bought the two free ones, "Sleep Like a Baby" and "Forever Young" and also purchased the "Diaper Wetting" one to see if it would help me with the mental block I often have when I need to go potty during my little time. I am very pleased to report that they both worked like a charm! The "Sleep Like a Baby" one had me down for the count like magic, and I woke up feeling very little. I was so impressed that I tried the "Diaper Wetting" one right after waking up, as I had to go potty and even though I tried lying in bed it wasn't working. This is pretty common for me, as I need to be upright to actually pee. It annoys me in little space because it just doesn't feel right to me. So I listened to the diaper wetting track and after it was over, still lying down, I relaxed and was able to wet myself right in my bed! I was ecstatic! I'll be listening to this track every time I have little space with the hopes that soon I will just be able to wet myself regularly into my diapers! The one selling these tracks, Ember, has the softest sweetest voice, and each track comes with boy and girl variants so you are being directly addressed by the gender you identify with as a little in any circumstance! I cannot recommend her enough. After being burnt so much in the past on piss-poor hypnosis tracks, here's one that really works! If you're looking for good hypnosis files, please check the site out! http://mylittlelullaby.com/
  21. Dan was 12yrs old, he was an only child with a mom who gave him everything, but something was about to change in his life. Unbeknown to him, his mom was engaged to someone, and it was the dad of a boy at his school, someone whom
  22. As mom got in the car she said, "be a good boy for your Aunt Sharon!" I was sad and had been crying at the thought of my mommy being away for a whole week. "We will have so much fun!", my aunt consoled. It was certainly not easy for a 5 year old boy to be in a strange place for a whole week. I continued to pout as mommy drove away. "Let's go in and get a snack," Sharon said as she carried my suitcase and put my mom's quilted, baby blue bag over her shoulder. I agreed and took her hand. I enjoyed the graham crackers and apple juice she gave me and I was getting more comfortable. After finishing, she turned on the TV and I sat in a beanbag chair and watched my favorite cartoons, bugs and daffy made me almost forget mommy had left. As I sat and watched I started needing to pee. I didn't know where the potty was and I didn't always make it on time even at home. Aunt Sharon asked me if I needed to potty right after my snack but I didn't need to go then. I kept watching TV. Roadrunner was on and he was my favorite. I waited to long and soon felt a warmness on my crotch and bottom. I kept watching TV. Aunt Sharon came to check on me. She soon noticed my pants were wet. "Uh oh, Dougie, looks like you tee-teed in your pants. Let's get you cleaned up." She led me by the hand around the corner into a bedroom. My suitcase and quilted bag were on the dresser. She went to a closet and took out a plastic mat. It crinkled as she spread it on the bed. She lifted me up and laid me on the
  23. When Princess Seraphina's father gets remarried to the Queen of the neighbouring kingdom, Seraphina finally has a new mother. What she doesn't know is that Seraphina, at age 20, is
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