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Hello Again! I would like to present my follow up story to "Sally's Got a Brand New Baby Sister" and the further misadventures of Baby Cindy! This one is for all the mud butts out there. I see you. I love you. Please Enjoy! 💖 Chapter 1: Baby Cindy’s Very Stinky Saturday Morning Baby Cindy, a 20-something year old dressed in a frilly pink baby romper, was waddling through the most lush courtyard she’s ever seen, like something out of a hand drawn Disney cartoon. Surrounding Baby Cindy were Cinderella, Belle, and Rapunzel. Three Disney Princesses frolicking with her through the spacious backyard of a giant Princess castle, “Come along Baby Cindy” Rapunzel called out to the big baby, trying her best to keep up with her extra padding. Belle and Cinderella slowed down and held onto Baby Cindy’s hands as they all trotted along. “Oh my goodness, Can it be?!” Exclaimed Rapunzel, the Princesses and Baby Cindy stood in front of a towering fountain in the center of the courtyard, it was large and pushing out brown goop up into the air into a big pond. “It’s a chocolate fudge-y fountain!” squealed Belle. All of the Princesses walked up slowly and pulled out little silver spoons from their Princess clutches. Rapunzel scooped a dollop of fudge and brought the spoon to her lips and into her mouth. “This is delectable!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth while talking with it full. Baby Cindy approached excited but cautious, she wasn’t allowed to have anything that rich without permission from Mommy, but the Princesses wouldn't stop a big baby like her from a special treat. As she approached the edge, leaning in for a handful, she lost her balance and plopped face first into the massive pool of sticky warm fudge. Getting chocolate all over herself, she looked up at the Princess’s, All of them giggling but cooing at her mishap. “Baby had an oopsie!” Laughed Cinderella as Baby Cindy sat back up, getting strangely comfortable sitting in the mushy mess. Her paci dropped out of her mouth as she shoved a big handful into her waiting mouth. As it entered her mouth, she didn’t get the taste she expected, what she got was a lot stinkier. Baby Cindy groggily opened her eyes, her first sight being a still mobile with rainbow stars dancing above her head. She looked to her side into the dark nursery, she could see light peeking through her blinds. It was early in the morning, around the usual wake up routine for Baby Cindy, lying in a polyester Tinkerbell sleep shirt, an exposed diaper bottom, a pink sleeping bonnet and her favorite princess tiara pacifier. Sally, Baby Cindy’s “big” sister, was lying still inside a sleeping bag on the floor beside the crib. Every Friday night, Sally would join Baby Cindy in her nursery for a sleepover. Her presence made Baby Cindy smile, she rolled onto her belly and felt a squish against her bottom. She sniffed the air again and was able to surmise she had taken a nice big poopy in her sleep. Her exposed bottom half showed a discolored rear with the large load resting inside her huggies. Baby Cindy began to whimper, her cold and mushy behind wasn’t as comfy as when it had been fresher. Baby Cindy sat up in her crib onto her knees, her head popping out from the top of the bars. Baby Cindy started to bounce up and down on her cot, making fussy sounds behind the paci she kept between her lips. She kept up her docile temper tantrum, building to get her sisters attention. Finally, Sally let out a big yawn and opened her eyes, a pungent odor immediately entering her nose as she turned towards her big baby sister whimpering from the crib. “Oh my gosh sissy, you’re really poopy.” she held onto her nose and got out of the sleeping bag, wearing her own footie one piece, to tell their Mother, who had begun to hear the commotion over the baby monitor. Sally returned to the nursery with Joan, the girl’s Mommy, in tow. Wearing a satin purple robe and matching slippers, “Oh my gosh how did you two sleep in here last night?” Mommy chuckled as she approached the crib and nudged Baby Cindy around to get a peek at her behind. Her bottom unsubtly displaying the mess inside, “I think Baby Cindy ate a little too much hot fudge Mommy.” Sally also giggled, still holding her nose and smiling at Baby Cindy, still watching from the crib. Despite the smell, the two were certainly used to the diapers of a big baby. “Didn’t I warn you that it was too rich for her tummy?” Mommy rubbed Baby Cindy’s back, making her feel a little better. The previous night, Mommy had promised Baby Cindy and Sally some ice cream after they were good while Mommy got her work done that afternoon. Sally was served a hot fudge sundae and Cindy got plain vanilla while strapped in her high chair. Baby Cindy was jealous of her sister's sundae and Sally pleaded for Baby Cindy to get some hot fudge, doing her best to be a good sister, and Mommy caved. Sally asked Baby Cindy to let her know when to stop as she poured the fudge onto her ice cream, the hot fudge covered everything and Mommy warned that there was too much on for her sensitive big baby tummy to handle. But the girls didn’t listen and Baby Cindy literally got her just desserts. She bounced around the walls with her sister the remainder of the night until she fell asleep to Sally reading her a bedtime story during their sleepover. Leaving Baby Cindy to enter dreamland and the pamper packer factory. Mommy opened up the crib and gave Baby Cindy a kiss on her forehead as she crawled down. “Smelly girl” she chuckled as watched Baby Cindy slide onto the floor and made a b-line crawl over to Sally, wanting to give her big sister a “Good Morning” hug. Sally cooed and opened her arms to the big baby, trying to hold her breath as best she could. “Good morning Baby Cindy” she patted her baby sister’s back and let go to hold her nose again. “Sorry Baby Cindy but that diaper is stupendous stinky!” Sally said as she backed up a little next to Mommy. “Sally! What an impressive word!” Mommy exclaimed as she picked up Sally and gave her a squeeze. Baby Cindy looked up at Mommy and Sally from the floor, their giggles and nose holding becoming a moment of bonding for the ladies of the house, making Baby Cindy blush behind her smile. “I think it’s too early for me to face that diaper, How about you go watch cartoons and I’ll start breakfast, I’ll change your sister a little later.” Mommy suggested as she carried Sally out of the nursery. “But Baby Cindy looked a little uncomfy before,” Sally asked, looking up at Mommy. “She’ll survive, if she doesn’t sit with losing her potty training, she’ll wanna stay in diapers forever!.” Mommy smiled back at Cindy as she closed the gate to the nursery.“Hehe, I think that’s too late!” Sally giggled as she gave Baby Cindy a last wave before making her way downstairs. Mommy chuckled and followed behind, leaving Baby Cindy to her own devices. She took a seat from her crawling position and felt the mess press against her smooth, plump bottom. A relaxed grin stretched behind her pacifier as she turned her attention to her toy chest on the other side of her nursery, crinkling and smushing across the soft pink carpet. Baby Cindy had spent so much time with a hefty load pressed against her butt, the smell bothered her much less than anyone would expect someone her size. The smell had become a sign of comfort at this stage in Cindy’s babification, a blunt reminder of her demoted status in the household and one that excused her of all responsibility. Something she realized she didn’t mind. The nursery itself was given a Lilac-mahogany wall air freshener to fight back the odors, but the faint scent of a full diaper pail was always fighting that freshness. Baby Cindy saw one of her favorite stuffed toys on the floor by the chest. It was a lime green and pink caterpillar with little beads inside that made it rattle. Its soft plastic facial features were a favorite for Baby Cindy to nibble on at times. Baby Cindy crawled towards a corner of the room occupied by a pile of stuffed animals and toys. She flopped into them like a big pillow. As she played, Baby Cindy felt the push of her mess from inside her diaper. It was soft but still firm, staying mostly intact snugly against her cheeks. Baby Cindy lied gently hearing Mommy turn on some gentle baby music. The music gave her a new sense of calm. Suddenly the nursery music switched into something more poppy and sweet sounding. Mommy had put on a playlist of Baby Cindy’s favorite nursery rhymes to change up the vibe in the nursery. Baby Cindy started to crawl out of the stuffie pile, shaking her padded booty. With such a relaxed lifestyle, Baby Cindy has gained a thick layer of baby fat and then some. Mommy had to think of creative ways to help get Baby Cindy some exercise while keeping her lifestyle unaltered. The answer was nursery dance parties! Baby Cindy got on her feet and was bouncing to the catchy jingles Mommy queued up for her. Shaking her messy bottom around the room, The room shook from all her big baby energy being exerted in the second floor nursery. Baby Cindy had her poopy pampers bouncing for 10 more minutes when Mommy finally got upstairs to find her baby girl on her feet, unlatching the baby gate and clapping with the beat. “Shake that diaper, baby girl!” She giggled, approaching Cindy, holding her squirmy hips and giving her diaper a peak from behind before wincing, “Alright baby girl, let's get you cleaned up before breakfast.” Baby Cindy toddled obediently to her changing table, climbing up with the help of a stepstool, readily prepared for another standard diaper change. Mommy opened the messy girl’s diaper and took a deep breath and said, “Let’s do this!” She used a good number of wipes wrestling Baby Cindy’s mess down into the diaper and giving her girl a clean bottom. She worked her way up to Baby Cindy’s soft pen-is, wiping it clean. The dirty diaper was wrapped up tight and neat, dropping into the changing pail. Baby Cindy was changed into a fresh Tykables Unicorn with a heavy dosing of powder. “There’s the clean baby girl we all know and love!” Mommy cooed as she tickled her tummy and helped her down from the changing table. “Let’s go eat some yum yums” Mommy said rubbing her tummy, giving Baby Cindy a butt patt to exit the nursery and scoot down the stairs. She crawled into the kitchen, with Mommy close behind. Mommy made scrambled eggs and bacon for Sally and herself. Baby Cindy was served oatmeal, mixed with some applesauce, letting Baby Cindy feed herself today. With a “Mommy’s Hungry Girl” bib tied around her neck, Baby Cindy ignored the pink spoon beside her and scooped a big handful of oatmeal into her mouth, dribbling down her chin and getting all over her hand. Sally giggled at her sister’s messy eating while she used a pink fork. Mommy couldn’t help but laugh at Baby Cindy licking her fingers all grubby, “My my we have a messy baby on our hands.” She quipped as she took her empty plate in the kitchen sink. She started wiping off Baby Cindy with a wet paper towel as Sally put her own plate into the dishwasher. “Hehe, Katies gonna get Messy Baby Cindy today at her party.” She giggled with a devilish glee. “Don’t jinx it Sally! Your cousin Katie will flip if we bring Messy Baby Cindy to her birthday party!” She played up her pleading as she cleaned up Baby Cindy, who sat in her high chair fidgety around her face wiping . “I don’t know Mommy, I can just feel it” Sally prophesied. “Are you sure you’re not just smelling it Honey?” They both giggled and helped Baby Cindy step out of her high chair. “OK, I’m gonna get cleaned up, can you take a shower and get yourself ready?” Mommy checked in with Sally, “and then you can help me with your sister?” Sally nodded up and down as she walked into the living room, Baby Cindy instinctually crawled behind Sally and sat beside her. “Baby Cindy needs morning cartoons! She can watch them while we’re getting ready!” Sally called out to Mommy. “Ok, but she’s going to sit in her bouncer too.” Mommy agreed as she strapped Baby Cindy into her bouncer, hanging above her playpen in the back corner of the living room. Baby Cindy was secured and started to bounce up and down with delight, feeling like she was in her own little theme park ride.. Giggling as her toesies barely touched the padded floor of the playpen. “What do you wanna watch Baby Cindy?” Sally giggled as picked up the remote and went through all the smart tv streaming services. “Cocomelon!” Baby Cindy called out behind her paci. Mommy laughed at the request of her “eldest” daughter. But she was also impressed by how fast Sally was using the remote buttons. But Mommy had to object, “No no no, I can’t listen to that anymore. That’s a Messy Baby Cindy show. We need a Clean Baby Cindy show” Sally giggled and nodded in agreement, still shocked how much Cindy likes the most baby show she’s ever seen. “How about Bluey?” she asked the bouncing baby, who bounced up and down, nodding happily. “Bluey is a good choice.” Mommy agreed and gave Sally a head scratch before exiting the living room to go change, trusting Sally to take care of the rest. Sally switched to Disney+ and started to play Baby Cindy a Bluey episode. “Enjoy Baby Cindy, we’ll help you get ready when we’re done.” Sally put down the remote and skipped out of the room, leaving bouncy Baby Cindy to her show. Baby Cindy smiled swaying above the floor as she watched Bluey. She laughed and lightly babbled as she got investment from the characters, in the few stories she could still follow. As she bounced up and down, Baby Cindy could feel her tummy sloshing around with a familiar cramp, making a familiar rumbling sounds like the previous night in her crib. Baby Cindy immediately started to grunt and make pushies like always when she got that feeling. Which led to Baby Cindy marking her second poopy diaper of the day and it wasn’t even 10 AM. She felt the softer mound mush around her bouncy bum. Baby Cindy got a whiff of that freshly produced smell and giggled with glee a little, no one around to see. Bouncing and turning her attention back to Bluey, she laughed at the cartoon and her pacifier slipped out her lips, dangling across her tummy. She took drooly paci and shoved it back into her lips, bouncing around in a state of bliss in her mucky butt diaper.

Chapter 1: This can't be real. "Ashley, did you remember to pack the camera for your sister?" Steve yelled while adding things to their car for their road trip. "Got it!" Ashley called back, lugging a heavy suitcase towards the car. She had packed meticulously, ensuring they had everything they needed for their week-long getaway. As she approached the car, she noticed Steve struggling with a large cooler. "Let me help you with that," she said, setting down the suitcase and moving to assist him. Together, they managed to load the cooler into the trunk, making space for the rest of their luggage. "Thanks, Ash," Steve said, wiping sweat from his brow. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Ashley smiled, feeling a warm sense of contentment. She loved moments like these, simple and mundane yet filled with a sense of togetherness. As they finished loading the car, Ashley glanced at the time. "We should get going if we want to make it to Sarah's before dark," she said, referring to her sister. "She's expecting us to drop off the camera today." Steve nodded, closing the trunk. "Let's hit the road, then. I can't wait to get to the cabin and relax." With everything packed and ready, they climbed into the car, the engine roaring to life as Steve turned the key. As they drove off, the sun shining brightly overhead, Ashley couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. It was their 4th year anniversary of dating each other. She was confident he was going to propose while out at the cabin. As they left the city, traffic grew heavier, and Steve, always the impatient one, decided to take a detour through the backroads to avoid the congestion. The scenic route wound through the mountains, offering breathtaking views of the rugged landscape. "Steve, do you know where we are going? We've never gone this way before to visit my sister." Ashley asked concerned they were going to be late. "Don't worry about it; the road has to connect at some point," he said nonchalantly. "If you say so," she replied, pulling out her phone. "Hey Sarah, we're going to be late. Steve is taking a new road this time. He's being his "adorable" self and refusing to listen to the GPS or his navigator, lol," Ashley texted her sister. Hours had gone by at this point, as they ascended higher into the mountains, their cell signal began to fade, eventually disappearing altogether. "I think we should turn back Steve," Ashley told him, concerned they might have gone too far without cell service. It's already been an hour since the last time she could do anything on her phone. Despite Ashley's protests, Steve assured her that they would soon find their way back to civilization. However, his optimism dwindled as the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the desolate road. With no cell service and no GPS to guide them. Steve admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe you're right. I'll stop at the next gas station or something and ask for directions." "Or, you know we could turn around?" "How? This road isn't wide enough for me to do that." They continued down the desolate road in silence; their nerves grew with each passing minute without an opportunity to turn back around. The fading light of dusk painted the landscape in eerie shadows, heightening their sense of isolation. Suddenly, with a sputter, their car lurched to a halt, billowing smoke from beneath the hood. Steve's heart sank as he stared at the dashboard, hoping for some sign of life from the engine. Only to see the check engine light and the red lining of the temperature gauge. The silence that followed was deafening. Ashley unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, stretching her legs and taking in their surroundings. She let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her phone, now displaying a bleak "No Service" message. "We should start walking," Steve said, forcing confidence into his voice as he opened the car door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. "Maybe there's a gas station or a house nearby where we can ask for help." Ashley nodded, though her eyes betrayed her growing unease. They began to walk up the road, the fading light casting long shadows ahead of them. The air was thick with the scent of pine trees and the distant hum of crickets. After what felt like an eternity, they came across an old, abandoned house nestled among the trees. The windows were boarded up, and the front porch sagged under the weight of neglect. Moss and leaflitter had overcome the roof nearly entirely. Ivy stretched up one side of the house threatening to overtake the decrepit structure. Steve hesitated, looking at the house and the setting sun, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a shroud. "We should keep going," he suggested, his voice tight with unease. Ashley hesitated an urgency in her bladder demanding her attention. "I have to go," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "And it's getting dark. We'll just go in, use the bathroom, and leave." Reluctantly, Steve nodded, his stomach churning with apprehension as they approached the crumbling porch. Couldn't she just go by a bush? The door creaked open with a rusty groan, revealing a dimly lit interior choked with dust and cobwebs. As they stepped inside, a chill wind whispered through the empty rooms, sending shivers down their spines. Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut. WHAM Ashley and Steve both jumped at the loud noise, turning to see the door closed. Steve nervously scanned the dimly lit interior, his hand instinctively reaching for Ashley's. "Must've been some strong wind," he muttered, trying to rationalize the sudden slamming of the door. Ashley nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to suppress the rising panic. "Yeah, let's just find the bathroom and get out of here," she agreed, her voice trembling slightly. Standing in the hallway, their senses were on high alert, every creak and groan of the old house setting their nerves on edge. Ashley was about to take another step down the hallway when a sudden movement caught her eye. Turning towards the source of the disturbance, she froze in terror as a figure emerged from the shadows—a grotesque, life-sized mannequin with hollow eyes and a frozen smile. "Welcome, little ones," it cooed, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. "It's time to play!" Steve and Ashley's hearts pounded in their chests as the figure began charging towards them frantically. Waving its arms about wildly. They froze on the spot, their minds unable to comprehend the surreal situation unfolding before them. Closing their eyes, they braced themselves for the inevitable. Suddenly, the mannequin's voice softened, sending a chill down their spines. "Uh-oh, looks like someone snuck their way out of the playroom," it said, its tone almost playful. "You two should know better. You wouldn't want to get in trouble, now would we?" Its smile widened to an unnatural length. Confused, Steve and Ashley cautiously opened their eyes. To their astonishment, the mannequin now loomed large before them, towering over them like a giant. The entire house had transformed, everything around them appearing larger than life. They were no longer their adult selves but had shrunk down to the size of toddlers, surrounded by oversized furniture and toys. Steve and Ashley blinked in disbelief, trying to make sense of their surreal surroundings. They realized that the abandoned house had undergone a dramatic transformation. What was once a decrepit, abandoned building now appeared pristine and inviting, as if frozen in time from its heyday as a bustling daycare center. The walls were painted in bright, cheerful colors and adorned with whimsical murals of smiling animals and playful children. Sunshine streamed in through large windows, casting warm, golden rays across the room, nothing like the outside they had just come from. Toys were neatly arranged in colorful bins, and child-sized furniture dotted the space. There was a cubby system across from the stairs in front of them, where kids hung their coats and placed their shoes. But despite the seemingly idyllic atmosphere, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The silence that filled the room was heavy with the weight of the unknown, and a creeping sense of dread clawed at the edges of their consciousness. "What... what's happening?" Ashley whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she clung to Steve's hand, her eyes wide with fear. Steve shook his head, his mind reeling with disbelief. "I-I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty and fear."This can't be real." The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Oh, but it is, my dears," it said, its eyes gleaming with an eerie light. "You're here to play, just like all the other little ones who came before you." As the realization of their predicament sank in, Ashley and Steve exchanged a terrified glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. They turned towards the door, desperate to escape, but to their horror, they found that the once easily reachable doorknob was now far beyond their grasp, towering above them like a monument to their helplessness. "We need to get out of here," Ashley cried, her voice tinged with panic as she tugged futilely at the door. "This can't be happening." Steve's mind raced, trying to make sense of their surreal situation. "There's no way out," his voice trembling with fear as he scanned the room for an escape route. The mannequin's voice cut through the air, sending a chill down their spines. "I'm afraid leaving is not an option, my dears," it said, its tone eerily calm. "You see, you're here to play, and play you shall." Steve and Ashley turned towards the mannequin, their eyes wide with fear and their backs pressed up against the door. It approached them, its towering figure casting a long shadow over them. Ashley's heart sank as she felt a warm trickle down her leg, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized she was wetting her pants in fear. The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Looks like someone had an accident," it said, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "No matter, we'll get you cleaned up in no time." With a swift motion, the mannequin scooped up Steve and Ashley in its enormous arms, carrying them away from the door and up the stairs into the daycare. Steve and Ashley struggled against its grip, but it was no use. They were at the mercy of the supernatural force that held them captive. As they were carried through the daycare, they passed by a room with empty cribs and playpens, their surroundings a surreal mix of childhood innocence and eerie abandonment. The mannequin brought them to a brightly lit room filled with changing tables and stacks of diapers, a hint to their new reality. "Now, now, little ones," the mannequin cooed, placing them on the changing tables. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for playtime." Steve and Ashley exchanged a terrified glance, their minds reeling with fear and confusion. How had they ended up in this nightmare? And more importantly, was there a way out? Chapter 2: Changed Steve's heart raced as he struggled against the firm grip of the mannequin, his muscles straining with effort. He twisted and turned, desperate to break free, but its hold on him was unyielding. Ashley, stunned by the event that had unfolded, froze. Her eyes were wide with fear, tears streaming down her face. But she made no sound, too shocked by the sudden events. "Let us go!" Steve shouted, his voice echoing through the room. "This isn't right! We need to leave!" But his words fell on deaf ears as the feminine figure carried them up the stairs, its movements slow and deliberate. Steve's heart sank as he realized the futility of their situation. They were at the mercy of a supernatural force, trapped in a nightmare. As they reached the top of the stairs, the mannequin carried them into a brightly lit room, the walls adorned with colorful murals of children's finger paintings. Some of them clearly cries for help, with large red letters on some of the drawings reading "LET ME GO" and "HELP!" Diaper boxes lined the walls, with two changing tables. One at the end of the wall, with a dresser adjacent to it. Across the room was a large playpen with nothing in it, almost like it was meant to be a holding cell. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Steve twisted and wiggled, managing to slip out of the mannequin's hold. He fell towards the ground, his heart pounding in his chest, only to be caught once again as the mannequin's grip tightened around him. As he dangled in the air, he met the mannequin's gaze, his eyes widening in terror as its face contorted into a grotesque expression before snapping back to its benign facade. The room around them seemed to warp and shift, along with its face. The walls pulsating with otherworldly energy. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to comprehend the surreal scene unfolding before him. The mannequin's voice echoed in his mind, its words soft yet chilling. "You need to be more careful, little one," its tone syrupy sweet yet laced with menace. "You wouldn't want to get into trouble, would you?" Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "What do you want from us?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. But the mannequin remained silent, its painted lips curled into a twisted smile. With a flicker of movement, it released Steve from its grasp, setting him down into the playpen across from the table. "You need to wait your turn, young man," it whispered, sending shivers down Steve's spine. The mannequin then turned back to the table, placing Ashley on the changing table, its movements gentle. Ashley snapped out of her shock as she realized what the mannequin was trying to do. She started to struggle against its grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear gripping her. She watched in terror as the mannequin's hands reached for her, its touch cold and unnerving. With a swift motion, it began to undress her, stripping her of her clothes with a mechanical precision that sent shivers down her spine. "Please, let us go," Ashley pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. "We don't belong here. We just want to go home." The mannequin pressed Ashley to the changing table firmly, pulled out the straps, and tied her down to it. "I'm sorry, sweetie, only your parents can pick you up from the daycare. But It's okay; we'll take really good care of you until they get here." Its voice felt unsettling, ringing in their ears. It sounded sweet yet menacing. What is the deal with this thing? Ashley struggled against the restraints on the changing table, panic rising within her. Frantically, she attempted to undo the straps, her fingers fumbling with the buckles. "Steve, please help me!" she cried out, her voice choked with fear and desperation. But Steve was stuck in the playpen, his attempts to escape proving futile. He watched helplessly, clinging to the rim of the pen on his tiptoes, his heart aching with fear for Ashley. He watched in horror as her wet pants were removed and discarded. Ashley's eyes darted to her phone as it fell out of her pocket, a glimmer of hope flickering within her. But her hope was short-lived as the mannequin's voice filled the room, its tone stern and unsettling. "Phones are for grown-ups, little one," it admonished, its words echoing in her mind. "Children aren't allowed to play with them." With a deft movement, the mannequin picked up Ashley's phone and placed it on a shelf above the changing table, far out of her reach. Ashley's heart sank as she realized her only lifeline to the outside world was beyond her grasp. She quickly looked toward Steve, hoping he could find a way to hide his phone. Maybe they could use his to escape? As the mannequin continued to undress her, Ashley's mind raced with fear and uncertainty. She was truly at the mercy of this twisted entity, trapped in a nightmare from which she could not wake. Steve, seeing how it handled the situation with the phone and the look Ashley gave him, began to look for a place he could stash his. He knew he had to do something, anything, to keep it away from it. But as he looked around the room, all he saw was the colorful murals and the ominous diaper boxes lining the walls. Steve looked back at Ashley, meeting her gaze. He was shocked to his core. The mannequin had completely stripped her down. She was naked! Mortification and frustration boiled within him. No one was allowed to do that to her except him! Fear set in as he realized, however, that there was no way he could hide his phone on himself, not with it stripping them down to their birthday suits. He could see her face bright red with humiliation from what was unfolding. The mannequin then reached down to the shelf right below the table Ashley was on, grabbing a rectangular object that looked to be folded. "There we go, all clean now. Time to get you dressed for the day. Now, do you want to wear the princesses or the flowers, deary?" The mannequin was holding two diapers, both in bright pink. Ashley started to scream. "No! No! No! You can't do this! I don't want to wear a diaper! No!" She screamed, her pleas falling on deaf ears. "Calm down, sweetie. You'll be able to get back to playing in no time." The mannequin placed the pink flower diaper on the shelf below, setting it aside for another time. "We'll go with princesses today for the little princess who played dress up." The mannequin unfolded the diaper and lifted Ashley's legs up to slide the diaper under her bare butt. Ashley's eyes flooded with tears. Here she was, a 23-year-old woman getting put in a diaper. Every second felt painstakingly slow. She felt the mannequin lower her back onto the diaper. It was shockingly soft, softer than she would have expected. The mannequin pulled the front of the diaper up, covering her privates. The bulkiness of the material was hard to ignore. Finally, it reached to the side to grab the tape and, one by one, taped the diaper around her waist. "There we go, nice fresh diaper for the little miss. I got the perfect outfit for you, too." The mannequin cooed lovingly as if it was playing dress-up with a doll. "Here we are!" It held out a bright pink frilly dress romper. It had a zipper at the back, making it hard for little ones to remove it independently. The mannequin slid the romper up Ashley's legs, getting her feet through the leg holes, pulling up as far as it could with her still lying down. It then unbuckled her, standing her up, placing her arms through the arm holes, and finally zippering up the back to hold it all in place. "Don't you look pretty?" The mannequin smiled with a genuine smile of satisfaction at how cute she looked. Steve had a clear line of sight to Ashley; she looked just like a toddler, and even her chest looked flat in that dress. "No!" Steve shouted, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I won't let you do this to us! We're not children! We're adults, damn it!" The mannequin's painted lips twisted into a scowl at Steve's outburst, its eyes narrowing with displeasure. With a slow, deliberate movement, it turned its head away from Ashley, whose eyes were filled with terror at the sight of the mannequin's face. Slowly, it turned its head towards Steve, its expression morphing into a grotesque visage that sent shivers down his spine. "Young man, we do not use such language in this daycare," the mannequin's voice rang out, icy and menacing. "You must learn to behave yourself. Such attitudes will not be tolerated." Before Steve could react, the mannequin twisted its body and charged toward him with surprising speed, its movements unnaturally swift. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for the impact, his mind racing with fear and desperation. The mannequin's cold hands closed around him. With a sudden, violent motion, the mannequin lifted Steve into the air, its grip unyielding. Steve struggled against its hold, his muscles straining with effort, but it was futile. The mannequin's strength was beyond human, its power seemingly limitless. As Steve dangled in the air, his mind raced with fear and desperation. He cast a frantic glance towards Ashley, his eyes pleading for her help. But Ashley could only watch helplessly, her heart pounding in her chest. Thinking fast, Steve seized the opportunity to act. With a quick, desperate motion, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, his fingers closing around the familiar device. With a swift motion, he hurled it towards Ashley. Ashley's eyes widened in surprise as she caught the phone, her fingers trembling with adrenaline. She tucked it into the front of her dress, securely held in place between the soft fabric and her squished chest, concealing it from view. Her heart raced with hope as she realized they might have a chance to escape this nightmare after all. As Ashley quickly jumped off the changing table, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt the frilly fabric of the romper swish around her legs with each step. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, the soft material tickling her skin. But there was no time to dwell on her discomfort; Steve's safety was her top priority. With determination blazing in her eyes, Ashley sprinted towards Steve, her feet stumbling slightly on the unfamiliar terrain of the daycare floor. Every movement felt exaggerated in the oversized romper, the ruffles bouncing with each step. As she neared, she could see the fear etched on Steve's face, his eyes pleading for her help. Without hesitation, she raised her foot and delivered a swift, powerful kick to the back of the mannequin's knee. The impact sent a jolt of pain shooting up her leg, but she ignored it, focusing all her strength on the task at hand. The mannequin let out a mechanical groan as its artificial joints buckled beneath the force of Ashley's blow. It stumbled forward, its grip on Steve loosening as it struggled to maintain its balance. For a brief moment, it teetered on the brink of collapse, its plastic limbs flailing wildly as it fought to regain its footing. Seizing the opportunity, Steve wriggled free from the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding with adrenaline as he stumbled backward, his limbs trembling with exertion. He cast a grateful glance towards Ashley, his eyes filled with relief and gratitude. Together, they watched as the mannequin stumbled forward, its balance precarious. The mannequin teetered on the brink of falling, its arms flailing wildly. Steve and Ashley exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors of the daycare. Behind them, the mannequin let out a mechanical screech of rage, its eyes glowing with malevolent fury as it gave chase. The world around them had warped again, back to its abandoned state, the facade of the daycare gone. Terrified, Steve and Ashley refused to look back. As Ashley and Steve descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence, a sense of urgency gripped them. They dared a quick glance back and saw the mannequin, now moving on all fours with unnerving speed, closing the distance between them. Panic surged through their veins, propelling them forward faster. But in their haste, they failed to watch their surroundings. Without warning, they collided with something solid, sending them both sprawling to the ground. As they recovered from the impact and looked up, they were met with the sight of another mannequin, different from the menacing one chasing them. This mannequin had a soft, caring smile, its eyes filled with warmth and understanding. It seemed to radiate a sense of calm amidst the chaos surrounding them. The daycare around them had transformed once again, returning to its pristine state, as if nothing had happened. As the new mannequin approached, its soft, caring smile seemed to put Ashley and Steve at ease, despite their recent ordeal. They scrambled to their feet, their eyes flickering between the two mannequins, unsure of what to expect. "It looks like we've had some runaways," the new mannequin said with a chuckle, its voice soothing and gentle. It then turned, looking back upstairs to the other mannequin. "Are you alright, Nyxara?" Nyxara, the once-menacing mannequin at the top of the stairs, now stood in its pristine form, its grotesque and menacing presence seemingly erased. It smiled warmly down at the new mannequin, its eyes filled with a sense of relief. "Yes, I'm alright, Elysia," Nyxara replied, her voice now calm and reassuring. "Thank you for the assistance. These two are a bit more... rowdy." Elysia knelt down in front of Steve and Ashley, her expression kind and gentle. "You two shouldn't run off like that," she said softly. "You could get hurt. But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to keep you safe and entertained until your mommies and daddies come back to pick you up." Steve and Ashley exchanged a puzzled glance. "Mommy and Daddy?" Steve repeated, his voice tinged with confusion. "What are you talking about? We're not children," Steve protested, his voice tinged with frustration. "We're adults. We don't need babysitters." Elysia giggled at Steve's protest, her smile never faltering. "Oh, sweetie, you only think you're an adult because of playing dress-up," she said gently. "But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to take care of you now. It's time to change back into your proper clothes." Elysia picked Steve up, cradling him in her arms as she headed back upstairs. Steve struggled against her hold, his protests growing louder. "No, let me go! I'm not a child!" he cried, his voice filled with frustration and fear. Nyxara descended the stairs. Her gaze fell upon Ashley, who stood frozen in fear. Her heart sank. She watched in despair as the figure approached, its arms outstretched, ready to pick her up. Ashley instinctively stepped back, her eyes pleading for mercy, but it's expression remained unchanged, it's smile warm but unwavering. With a gentle yet firm grip, the monster like creature scooped Ashley into its arms, her touch surprisingly warm for a mannequin. Ashley's heart raced as she was carried away. She looked over her captor's shoulder, locking eyes with Steve, who was now in Elysia's care, being comforted in a way that made him feel embarrassed and frustrated. They reached out to each other, their hands stretching towards one another, but the distance between them grew with each passing step. Steve's protests grew louder as Elysia cooed soothing words to him, attempting to calm his fears. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart," Elysia murmured, rocking Steve gently in her arms. "There's no need to cry. I'm here to take care of you." Steve's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being treated like a baby. Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, tears welled up in his eyes, betraying his facade of maturity. As Nyxara carried Ashley away, her heart felt like it was being torn apart. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the empty corridors of the daycare. She reached out desperately towards Steve, but he was already out of sight. Hearing the girl's cry about losing her friend she was playing dress-up with. Nyxara reassured the girl. "There, there, dear," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't cry. You'll see your friend again soon. But for now, let's go play with the other kids, shall we?" An innocent smile full of warmth grew on her face, feeling as if she was doing a good job taking care of the latest additions to the daycare. Chapter 3: Newfound Friends As Ashley was carried away, her mind raced with fear and confusion. She struggled against the mannequin's grip, but it was futile. She felt helpless, at the mercy of these strange and otherworldly beings. Nyxara held Ashley tightly as she stepped down the corridors of the daycare, eventually arriving at a brightly lit room filled with toys and games. Ashley's eyes widened in wonder and confusion as she took in her surroundings. The room seemed frozen in time, as if it was newly constructed or renovated, pristine in every aspect. As Nyxara gently set Ashley down on the floor, Ashley's eyes widened in shock as her gaze fell upon two figures sitting in the corner of the room. One was a woman who looked younger than herself, with long brown hair and a worried expression. The other was a middle-aged man with a rugged appearance and a look of resignation in his eyes. Both were the same small size as her and Steve, smaller than any average adult could be. Ashley approached them cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked panicly "Do you know where that thing took Steve? Do you know a way out?" The young woman and the man exchanged glances before shaking their heads. They remained silent, their eyes darting nervously towards the door. It was as if they were afraid to speak, as if there would be consequences. Frustrated by their silence, Ashley pressed on. "Please, you have to tell me something," she pleaded. "We need to find a way out of here. Do you know anything about this place? Who are those mannequins? What do they want with us?" They both remained silent, but the man slowly reached out and picked up a few toy blocks. With a deliberate motion, he arranged them on the floor to spell out two words: S-H-U-T U-P. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Was he trying to warn her? Was he telling her to stop asking questions? Before she could react, Nyxara approached, her expression stern. "It's not polite to ask too many questions," Nyxara scolded gently, her tone surprisingly motherly. "We're here to play and have fun. Isn't that right, Kelly, Nick?" Kelly and Nick nodded in agreement, their expressions filled with a mixture of fear and acceptance. It was clear that they were afraid of Nyxara and what she might do if they disobeyed. Feeling defeated, Ashley backed away, her mind racing with unanswered questions. She glanced back towards the stairs, where Steve had disappeared, and felt a pang of sadness and longing. They were trapped in this nightmarish daycare, at the mercy of forces they couldn't understand or control. Ashley's heart raced as she looked back towards the man, who had spelled out "Shut up" with the toy blocks just moments ago. With trembling hands, she picked up the blocks and arranged them to spell out her name: A-S-H-L-E-Y. She held her breath, waiting for a response. Nick's eyes widened in surprise as he read her name spelled out in the blocks. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before rearranging the blocks to form his name: N-I-C-K Relief flooded through Ashley as she realized she had made a connection with one of the other trapped individuals. She felt a glimmer of hope that Nick might have some answers or insights into their situation. Gathering her courage, she formed another question with the blocks: W-H-E-R-E S-T-E-V-E. Nick's brow furrowed in concentration as he rearranged the blocks once more. With painstaking effort, he spelled out: M-O-T-H-E-R U-P-S-T-A-I-R-S. Ashley's stomach churned with unease at the mention of Steve being with the mannequin upstairs. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since they arrived at the daycare. What was happening to Steve? Was he safe? And what did Nick mean by "mother"? Before Ashley could ask any of her questions, Nick hurriedly scrambled the blocks, erasing the words he had just spelled out, as the mannequin approached to check on them. Nyxara's expression softened as she observed the trio, a smile playing on her lips. "It warms my heart to see you all getting along," Nyxara said, her voice tinged with an eerie sweetness. "Isn't it wonderful to have friends to play with?" Ashley forced a smile, nodding weakly as she tried to suppress the rising anger within her. Luckily the mannequin didn't stick around, it was satisfied at their nods. Ashley glanced at the young woman sitting in the corner, who was curiously watching them. Feeling a sense of determination, Ashley approached the girl, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hi, I'm Ashley," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and then she hesitantly reached for the toy blocks scattered on the floor. With trembling hands, she arranged the blocks to spell out her name: K-E-L-L-Y. "Kelly," Ashley repeated, nodding in acknowledgment. "Do you know anything about this place? How did you end up here?" Kelly's expression grew somber as she shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow. She seemed reluctant to speak, as if afraid of what might happen if she spoke too much. "Alright kiddies, you be good, I'm only going to be a minute." the menacing mannequin smiled, looking at the three of them in the corner. "It's snack time, and I bet you all are getting hungry" as it left the room to fetch snacks, Nick and Kelly leaned in close to Ashley, speaking in hushed whispers. "We don't have much time," Nick said, his voice urgent. "We need to be careful. Nyxara is very easy to anger. She's the one who decides when we get punished, and trust me, the simplest of things can set her off." "How long have you been here?" Ashley asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nick glanced around nervously before replying, "I've lost track of time, but I think it's been about ten years. Kelly here has been here for a few weeks, I think." Kelly nodded, confirming Nick's words. "Yeah, it's been a few weeks. I... I don't know how much longer I can take this." "What do they want with us?" Ashley whispered, her voice trembling with fear at the realization that someone had been here for so long already. What hopes do they have to escape if someone who's been here ten years still hasn't found a way out? Nick glanced towards the door once more before answering. "I don't know for sure," he admitted. "But I've seen what happens to those who disobey. It's not pretty. We have to follow their rules if we want to survive." "What rules?" Ashley asked, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do we need to do to survive?" Nick continued to glance around nervously before answering each question. "First, we need to play along. Act like children, do what they say, and don't ask too many questions. Second, don't try to leave the daycare. The doors are locked, and if Nyxara catches you trying to escape... She'll punish you." Kelly added, "And whatever you do, don't anger Elysia. She's the other mannequin, the one who acts like a mother to us. She can be kind, but if she thinks you're a threat to the 'children,' she'll become... violent. That's how we lost David." Her eyes trailed off, a look of pure terror at whatever had taken place. Ashley's head spun with the weight of this new information. She had no idea what they had gotten themselves into. "What about Steve?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Is he in danger?" Before they could discuss further, Nyxara returned with a tray of snacks. She set it down in front of them, her smile bright and unnerving. "Here you go, my little ones," she said sweetly. "Enjoy your snacks, and remember to behave." Nick, with a forced smile plastered on his face, musters up a small voice, "Th-thank you, Miss Nyxara, for the snacks." He mimics the behavior of a grateful child, hoping to appease the unsettling presence before them. Kelly and Ashley remain silent, their expressions a mix of apprehension and obedience. Nyxara's smile widens at Nick's words, her eyes gleaming with an eerie delight. "You're welcome, sweetie," she coos, her tone saccharine yet tinged with an underlying threat. With a final glance at the trio, she turns and leaves to check on Steve, Nick leaned in closer to Ashley, his expression grave. "We need to be careful," Nick whispered urgently. "Elysia is different from Nyxara. She's... she's more motherly, but her love can be suffocating. She wants us to be her children and will do anything to she can to mother us, even if that means..." Nick's voice trailed off, but Ashley understood the implication. Elysia's protection could easily turn into possessiveness and violence. Just then, the door creaked open, and Steve was brought in by Elysia. His clothes had changed, now fitting for a toddler, and his expression was filled with concern. Ashley's heart sank at the sight of him, wondering what horrors he had endured. Steve glanced around the room, his eyes widening in shock as they landed on Ashley and the other two. He tried to speak, but he lost his words, realizing the mannequin was still there. Ashley rushed to his side, embracing him tightly, trying to offer him some comfort in this terrifying situation. "What... what is going on? Who are they?" Steve managed to stammer out, his voice trembling with fear. Ashley quickly explained what she had learned about the daycare from Nick. The little bit she learned about the two mannequins Nyxara, and Elysia, emphasizing the need to play along and not provoke the mannequins. Steve listened intently, his expression filled with disbelief and horror. As Ashley held Steve tightly, her mind raced with concern and questions. She wanted to know what had happened to him, what he had seen or experienced since they were separated. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the fear and embarrassment reflected in them. "What happened to you, Steve?" Ashley whispered, her voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?" Steve shifted uncomfortably in her embrace, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. "It's... it's basically the same thing that happened to you." Ashley felt a pang of sympathy for him. She knew how humiliating and degrading their experiences had been, forced to dress like toddlers, and placed in a diaper. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Steve's voice trembled as he looked into Ashley's eyes, desperation evident in his gaze. "Ashley, do you still have my phone?" he asked, trying to change the subject from their dire situation. Both Kelly and Nick's eyes widened at the question, their expressions mirroring Steve's hope. Ashley's mind raced as she remembered the phone tucked away in her dress, pinned to her chest between her breasts. She had completely forgotten about it in the chaos of their situation. "Yes, I still have it!" Ashley exclaimed, relief flooding through her. Steve's eyes lit up with hope. Ashley went to reach into her dress for it but stopped seeing Nick and Kelly looking at her. Feeling embarrassed, she turned around so her back faced them, providing a little privacy as she retrieved the phone from her dress. She handed it over to Steve so he could unlock his phone. Praying that there is a signal. They got into this whole mess because there wasn't any reception. What would be the odds of them having a signal now, of all times? The group huddled together, their hearts racing with a newfound hope as Steve unlocked his phone and discovered a single little bar. Each of them voiced their opinions on who Steve should contact for help. "We should call the police," Nick suggested, his voice filled with urgency. "They can come and rescue us from this nightmare." Ashley shook her head, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "If we place a call they'll notice right away," she whispered. "We can't lose our chance if it catches us before we make contact." Steve furrowed his brow in thought, weighing their options carefully. "What about your sister, Sarah?" he suggested, turning to Ashley. "She might be able to help us without alerting anyone else." Ashley's eyes widened in realization. "That's a good idea," she said, agreeing. "Sarah knows about our trip and could come looking for us if we don't show up. Plus, she's close by and won't attract too much attention." With their decision made, Steve quickly drafted a distress message to Sarah, explaining their situation in as much detail as possible without trying to sound too crazy by revealing too much about the supernatural elements of their predicament. They debated the wording, making sure to convey the urgency of their situation on how they have been effectively kidnapped, and are being held hostage with no way of escape or being able to contact the athorities. But before they could hit send, a shadow began to loom over them. Nyxara's voice filled the room, her tone laced with anger and suspicion. "What are you kids up to?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the phone in Steve's hand. "What are you doing with that?" Nyxara demanded, her voice cold and menacing. "You know you're not allowed to have that. Give it to me, now." Steve hesitated, clutching the phone tightly in his hand. He knew they couldn't let Nyxara take it, but he also knew that defying her would have consequences. Before he could make a decision, Nyxara lunged forward, grabbing for the phone. Steve and Ashley struggled to keep it out of her reach, but Nyxara was too strong. With a swift motion, she snatched the phone from Steve's hand. "You disobedient children," Nyxara scolded, her voice filled with anger. "You know the rules. No phones. Those are for adults only!" You'll both be punished for this." Steve and Ashley exchanged worried glances, seeing the mannequin's face warp along with the daycare. Realizing they had just made a dangerous enemy. They knew they would have to be more careful than ever if they wanted to escape the daycare and survive. Before Steve could even formulate a response, Elysia intervened, her voice calm yet firm as she stepped forward to defend the frightened group of "children." "Now, now, Nyxara," Elysia interjected, her tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps they were simply trying to decide what to do with the phone. After all, they are just children, and it's natural for them to be curious." Nyxara's eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced by Elysia's defense of the children. However, after a moment of tense silence, she seemed to relent. With a final glare at Steve and Ashley, she turned and headed upstairs, taking the phone with her. Steve and Ashley let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Elysia's intervention. However, they knew they had narrowly avoided a dangerous situation. They needed to be more cautious. Nick, seeing an opportunity to gain favor, turned to Elysia with a forced smile. "Thank you, Miss Elysia," he said, his voice filled with false cheerfulness. "We'll be sure to behave and not cause any more trouble." Elysia nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Of course, my dear," she replied, her tone soothing. "Just remember, we're all here to play and have fun. Now, why don't you all go and enjoy your snacks? I'm sure you must be hungry." Nick nodded obediently, then turned to Ashley and Steve, a look of concern on his face. "Did you manage to send the message?" he asked quietly. Steve shook his head, a look of disappointment crossing his features. "No, I couldn't," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "It took the phone before I could hit send." The whole group hung their head in defeat, now what are they going to do? They slowly began to shuffle their feet over towards the little table that sat in the playroom where their snacks were located. Suddenly, Steve doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach as a sharp pang shot through his abdomen. Ashley's eyes widened in alarm as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with worry. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?" Chapter 4: A Bottle?! *Steve's point of view when they separated* Steve struggled against the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He was filled with embarrassment, fear, and confusion. This couldn't be happening. They were adults, not children. But the more he protested, the tighter it held him, its comforting words trying to soothe him only made him angrier and angrier at the situation he found himself in. As they reached the top of the stairs, Steve's protests grew more desperate. "Please, let me go! We're not children!" he pleaded, but its smile remained unfazed. It carried him back into the changing room, lined with diaper boxes and changing tables. Setting him down gently on a changing table, it cooed, "It's time to get you cleaned up and changed, sweetie." Steve's face burned with embarrassment as it began to undress him, revealing his boxer briefs underneath his pants. He tried to resist, but its gentle yet firm touch made it impossible. It secured him to the table just as the other mannequin did with Ashley. He was stuck now; the straps were locked in a way that refused to budge for him, no matter how hard he tried. Steve refused just to let this happen; he refused to get diapered like Ashley. He threw his body around as much as he could in hopes of making it impossible for the mannequin to diaper him, but it was no use. It just proceeded as if dealing with a difficult child. It just continued to change Steve, cooing softly, "Oh, you must be hungry, that's why you're so fussy. Don't worry. We'll get you something to fill your belly after this." Steve's eyes widened with terror. If they were willing to diaper them because they thought they were children, what would it try to feed them? Not only that, but these things are otherworldly, who knows what this food even was. His embarrassment deepened further as he realized the mannequin was treating him like a toddler in need of care. With gentle efficiency, it removed Steve's shirt. He felt humiliated and helpless as it changed him and expertly fastened a fresh diaper around his waist. He tried to maintain his composure, but the situation was too surreal. He was a grown man being treated like a toddler, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then, he saw it grab a yellow duck onesie and a pair of tiny jean overalls, completing his transformation from a grown man to a toddler-like figure. As it finished diapering him, it smiled warmly. "There, now you're ready to play," it said cheerfully. "But first, let's get you that bottle" Before Steve could protest, it lifted him off of the changing table, and back into it's arms carrying him out of the room. Steve's mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body was powerless against the mannequin's strength. It brought him into the nursery across the hall from the changing room. The room was filled with colorful toys, soft blankets, and a row of cribs along one wall. The mannequin placed Steve in one of the cribs before moving to the mini fridge in the corner. Steve watched in disbelief as the mannequin retrieved a bottle from the fridge and placed it in a bottle warmer. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He was a grown man, trapped in a nightmare where he was being treated like a helpless child. Steve's heart pounded as he watched the mannequin move about the nursery, his mind racing with desperation. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of a way out, but all he saw were rows of cribs, the mini fridge in the corner, a sink, locked cabinets, and the imposing figure of the mannequin looming over him. There were no windows, other doors, or vents they could climb through. This room was a secure prison designed strictly for sleeping. His eyes flicked to the bars of the crib, his stomach churning with frustration. The bars were far too high for him to be able to climb out. He could try to get up and out, but realistically he knew doing so now, would be pointless, the mannequin would catch him, after taking two steps, there was no way he could escape it. How could they possibly escape this nightmare? It seemed like every avenue was blocked, every attempt at resistance futile. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his panic at bay. The mannequin returned to his side, a warm bottle in its hand, a sickly sweet smell emanating from its contents. Steve recoiled instinctively, his throat constricting with revulsion. He had no idea what was in that bottle, but he knew he couldn't trust it. The mannequin offered the bottle to Steve with a gentle smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Drink up. It's just warm milk," it cooed. Steve's eyes widen in worry. He is lactose intolerant, he can't drink milk, it messes with his stomach. He stood there staring at the mannequin, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to play with this twisted game, but he was also trapped in a crib too tall to escape from. The mannequin's smile faltered slightly as it noticed Steve's hesitation. "Come on now, sweetie," it urged, its tone still gentle but with a hint of impatience. "Don't be difficult. You need to drink your milk like a good little boy." Steve's mind raced as he weighed his options. Drinking the milk could have serious consequences for his lactose intolerance, but defying the mannequin could lead to unknown punishments or further confinement. Trapped in the crib with no means of escape, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. With a heavy heart, Steve reluctantly reached out for the bottle, his fingers trembling as he accepted it from the mannequin's grasp. The sickly, sweet smell assaulted his senses, making his stomach churn with unease. He glanced up at the mannequin, silently pleading for mercy, but its expression remained unmoved. As Steve slowly brought the bottle to his lips, he hesitated again, his inner turmoil evident in his furrowed brow. The mannequin's patience wore thin, and with a firm yet gentle grip, it lifted him from the crib and settled him in its arms, cradling him against its rigid form. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he found himself ensnared in the mannequin's embrace, his muscles tense with apprehension. He wanted to resist, to fight against the unnatural force that held him captive, but he knew it was futile. He was at the mercy of the mannequin's whims, powerless to defy its will. Settling into a rocking chair, the mannequin began to sway back and forth, its movements rhythmic and soothing. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he felt the bottle pressed against his lips, the warmth of the liquid seeping through the bottle's nipple. With a sense of resignation, Steve reluctantly began to drink the milk. Each swallow was a struggle, his mind riveting at the thought of what it might do to his body. But the mannequin showed no signs of relenting, its grip unyielding as it forced him to consume the entire contents of the bottle. Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he fought against the urge to retch. He felt like a helpless child being fed against his will, stripped of his autonomy and dignity. But no matter how much he resisted, the mannequin's hold remained firm, its eerie presence casting a shadow over him. As he sucked down the milk, the mannequin sat there, holding him. Staring into his eyes, lovingly watching him with a maternal gaze. "There, there, everything will be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. Steve continued to drink the milk, feeling defeated and helpless in the mannequin's arms. As he reluctantly finished the bottle, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The other mannequin from earlier, the one that took Ashley away, the darker and more menacing mannequin, entered the nursery, causing Steve's heart to race with fear. Its presence was unnerving, its cold, lifeless eyes scanning the room. Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as he realized Ashley was missing from its side. Its gaze lingered on Steve briefly, sending a shiver down his spine before it turned to the mannequin holding him. "Elysia, the snacks for the kids are out," it stated in a gravelly voice, its tone devoid of warmth or emotion. Elysia, the mannequin holding him, smiled warmly. "Thank you, Nyxara. This one has already had his bottle, so he might not eat much," she replied, motioning towards Steve. Nyxara nodded silently before turning and leaving the nursery. Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that it had left without incident. The mannequin holding him then carried Steve downstairs to join the other "children." As they descended the stairs, Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ashley, among others who had been transformed into childlike figures. She looked just as bewildered and frightened as he felt. Chapter 5: A Messy Situation Steve's face contorted in pain as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Ashley's heart raced with worry as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with concern. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with alarm. "What's wrong?" Steve tried to brush off the issue, but his voice was strained with discomfort. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, his face pale with pain. "It'll probably pass." But the sharp pang in his abdomen refused to be ignored. Steve's attempts to downplay the situation only made Ashley more concerned. She reached out to touch his forehead, checking for signs of fever, but before she could say anything, Elysia approached them, her eyes filled with concern. "What's the matter, little one?" Elysia asked, her voice gentle as she knelt beside Steve. "Are you feeling unwell?" Steve winced as Elysia's hand touched his forehead, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to pull away, but the figure's other hand shot out and clenched his bicep. She tilted her head, studying him with curiosity and concern. "What did you do to him!?" Ashley interjected, her voice filled with worry and panic. "He was fine before you took him upstairs." Elysia did not regard Ashley's concern, and her expression was sympathetic. "Poor thing," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "It must be hard for you, being away from your mommy and daddy." She completely ignored Ashley's questioning. Steve felt frustrated at the creature's words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He didn't want to admit to Ashley that he was fed a bottle like a baby, but he couldn't stand the thought of being talked down like he was a child. He tried to protest, to tell it that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated like one, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded weakly, unable to meet it's gaze. Elysia's eyes softened with compassion as she reached out to pat Steve's back, her touch surprisingly comforting despite the circumstances. "There, there, little one," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't worry. Elysia is here to take care of you." But as Elysia tried to comfort him, Steve's stomach lurched with increasing intensity, sending waves of nausea coursing through his body. He gasped in pain, his face contorted with discomfort as he struggled to hold back the building pressure in his bowels. "I-I need to use the bathroom," Steve managed to stammered out, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, I need to go..." But Elysia seemed oblivious to Steve's distress, focusing solely on comforting him. She reached out to pick him up, her touch gentle as she lifted him into her arms. Steve's stomach churned with unease as she began to rock him back and forth, her movements only making the pressure in his bowels harder to hold in. "Shh, shh, it's okay, little one," Elysia murmured, her voice soothing yet distant. "Everything will be alright, you'll see." But Steve knew he couldn't wait any longer. The urge to use the bathroom was becoming unbearable. He struggled to break free from Elysia's grasp, his voice trembling with urgency. "I-I need to go," he insisted, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, let me go..." But Elysia seemed unable to understand Steve's words, and her focus was solely on comforting him. Steve's heart sank as he realized he was running out of time. Steve's stomach cramps intensified, and his eyes darted around the room in a panic. He caught sight of the other male in the group, unable to recall his name. His eyes were wide with understanding. Steve knew he must know why Elysia wasn't responding to his pleas. Steve recalled being told that the other man had been here longer; he must have learned how the mannequins responded and worked. But the man said nothing. Steve's desperation grew as he realized he couldn't hold on much longer. He wanted to reach out and beg for help, but he hesitated, unsure of what they might do or, more accurately, what they could do. These things were huge in comparison to them. Steve's face twisted in agony as the pressure in his bowels reached its breaking point. With a sickening realization, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer. His stomach clenched with a force he couldn't contain, and before he could even register what was happening, he felt the warmth spreading in his diaper. A warm, mushy sensation filled his diaper, the smell hitting him almost instantly. He gasped, mortified, as he accidentally shit himself for the first time since he was a kid. The hot, mushy diarrhea surged forth, filling the confines of his diaper with a sickening squelch. Steve's cheeks burned with humiliation as it was happening, his body betraying him in the most mortifying way possible. He whimpered in shame, unable to stop the humiliating torrent of mess. "O-oh no..." Steve whimpered, his voice filled with shame and embarrassment. He could feel the mess spreading, the diaper growing heavy and uncomfortable against his skin. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Elysia, his cheeks burning with humiliation. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and horror as she watched Steve's distress unfold before her. The pained expression on his face, coupled with the sickening realization of what was happening, sent a wave of nausea churning in her stomach. She took a step back, her hands instinctively covering her mouth to stifle a gasp of disbelief. Kelly, who had been observing the scene with a mixture of concern and fear, recoiled slightly at the smell that filled the air. Her eyes darted between Steve and Ashley, a small look of disgust crossing her features. But beneath the disgust, there was a flicker of embarrassment, a memory resurfacing in her mind. Elysia's gentle teasing cut through the air, her voice light yet mocking. "Oh dear, it seems little Steve had a little accident," she remarked, her tone almost sing-song. "Such a messy little one, aren't you?" Steve's cheeks burned with shame as Elysia's words sank in. He could feel the weight of his messy diaper pressing against him, the warmth and smell serving as a reminder of his humiliating predicament. He wanted to protest, to tell Elysia that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated as such, but the words caught in his throat. How could he even say that when he was in her arms in a dirty diaper? Elysia's demeanor shifted slightly as she continued to speak, her voice softer yet tinged with authority. "It's alright, little one," she said. "We'll have to get you cleaned up and changed. But first, let's get you something to drink and some snacks. That should give you plenty of time to finish anything else still in your belly," she giggled. Steve could only stare at it in disbelief; not only did this thing just force him to shit himself, but it was going to make him stay in it till it deemed he could be changed! His cheeks burned with shame and resentment. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable squishiness of his diaper. But the smell, the warmth, it was all too much. He felt like a helpless child, unable to control his own body. Elysia set him back down on the ground, her touch seemed surprisingly gentle and caring despite the humiliating situation. Steve felt a rush of relief as he was freed from her grasp, but it was short-lived. The reality of his messy diaper felt like a ton of bricks, and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Steve's gaze fell on Ashley as his tormentor turned away to attend to something else. Her expression was a mix of shock, disgust, and pity. Steve felt a lump form in his throat as he realized how she must see him now, as a helpless, soiled child. He wanted to explain, to tell her it was because of the milk, but the words were stuck in his throat. He was too embarrassed and in shock to say anything. He stood there in front of the others, feeling utterly humiliated and vulnerable, his mind flooded with embarrassment. His stomach still churned from being forced to consume milk, but now embarrassment added to his discomfort. He desperately wished he could disappear, to escape from this nightmare. But trapped in this bizarre reality, there was nowhere to run, no way to hide from the humiliation. Ashley hovered nearby, her expression torn between concern for Steve and disgust at the situation. She wanted to comfort and reassure him that everything would be alright, but seeing him in a messy diaper was too much to bear. She glanced at Nick and Kelly, silently pleading for some form of understanding or support. Nick's gaze met Ashley's, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of empathy in his eyes. But before she could say anything, the mannequin returned, interrupting the tense silence with her cheerful demeanor. "Alright, little ones, that's enough dilly-dallying. Go eat your snacks." Elysia chirped, her voice bubbly as she set a high chair tray of snacks on the table next to their snacks. "I've got some yummy treats for you all to enjoy." The figure ushered them towards the table. Ashley looked at Steve sympathetically, her heart aching for him. But as they approached the table, her attention was diverted by a bottle of milk sitting next to the highchair. Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god," Ashley whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of Elysia bustling around. "Steve, the milk... That's why..." Steve's eyes went wide with horror as he realized there was another bottle of milk. His stomach was still agitated from the first bottle; what would a second one do to his stomach and bowels? The thought of drinking it now, in his current state, filled him with dread and disgust. Especially with others around. He couldn't, not again. But before he could do anything, Elysia approached him with the bottle, her smile bright and cheerful. "Here you go, little one," she said, her voice sweet yet tinged with authority. "A nice bottle of milk to help keep you hydrated. Isn't that nice?" Steve's stomach churned with unease as he stared at the bottle, his mind racing with fear. He wanted to refuse, to push it away, or at least tell them he couldn't drink milk. But the fear of what would happen if he was difficult for them kept him frozen. Until his brain finally kicked back in. Desperate for escape, Steve made a sudden dash towards the door, his heart pounding with adrenaline. But before he could reach it, a hand shot out, catching him by the arm with surprising strength. "Uh-uh, little one," Elysia scolded, her voice firm yet gentle. "You know you're not allowed to wander off by yourself. It's not safe. Besides, we need to make your tummy feel better. You need to stay hydrated and drink as much as possible." Steve's heart sank as he realized his escape attempt had failed. He hung his head in defeat as it led him to the highchair, her grip firm. As Steve felt guided towards the highchair, panic surged through his veins. He couldn't bear the thought of being strapped into that humiliating contraption, especially with his messy diaper weighing him down, feeling it slightly sway with each step. His mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape, but the figure's hold on him was unyielding. "No, no, please!" Steve pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and humiliation. He tried to pry its fingers from his arm with his free hand. "I-I don't want to go in there. Please, let me go!" But Elysia remained unmoved; its expression was that of a smiling, authoritative parent dealing with an unruly child. She gently guided Steve towards the highchair, her grip firm. Steve struggled against her grasp, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought against the inevitable. Ashley rushed to Steve's side, her hands reaching out to try and pull him away from Elysia. "Let him go!" she demanded, her voice filled with determination. "He can't handle lactose. It will only make him sick!" Ashley's attempt to intervene was met with a sudden and chilling presence. The darker mannequin appeared, her tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over the room. Her eyes glinted with a malevolent gleam as she surveyed the scene, her presence enough to send a shiver down Ashley's spine. "What's going on here?" Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a wave of fear through the group. Everyone quickly averted their gaze from Nyxara's chilling presence, and a tense silence settled over the room. Ashley's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the scene unfold, her hands trembling with fear. She knew they were at the mercy of these supernatural entities, and any attempt to defy them could have dire consequences. With a subtle yet commanding gesture from Nyxara, Elysia resumed her task of setting Steve up in the high chair. Steve's heart sank as he was scooped up, realizing there was no escaping his humiliating fate. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as Elysia's firm hold guided him toward the highchair. As he was set in the highchair, he couldn't suppress a whimper of humiliation. The squishy mess in his diaper shifted and spread, the warmth and wetness pressing against him from all sides. He could feel the mess oozing and squelching in ways he never thought possible, air bubbles escaping out the back and sending a sickening sensation down his spine. The smell of his own mess filled the air, a nauseating reminder of his humiliating predicament. Steve's cheeks burned with shame as he realized the others could smell it too, their expressions filled with disgust. He wanted to disappear, to escape from this nightmare of being trapped in a messy diaper in front of his girlfriend and strangers. But as Elysia secured the straps of the highchair around him, Steve knew there was no escape. He was completely at the mercy of these entities, powerless to resist their commands. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hung his head in defeat, the weight of his humiliation crushing down on him like a ton of bricks. Meanwhile, Ashley watched helplessly from the sidelines, her heart breaking for Steve. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, to reassure him that everything would be alright, but she knew there was nothing she could do. They were all trapped in this bizarre reality, subject to the whims of these otherworldly beings. Steve's heart pounded with fear and desperation as Elysia approached with the bottle. He couldn't bear the thought of drinking the milk, not after what happened last time. With a surge of panic, he reached out to knock the bottle from Elysia's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor. The room fell silent as the bottle rolled across the floor, the sound echoing in the tense atmosphere. Steve's heart raced as he braced himself for the repercussions of his actions. He expected Elysia to scold him, to punish him for his defiance. But what happened next caught him completely off guard. A chill swept through the room as Nyxara's imposing figure stepped forward, her eyes narrowed with a menacing glare. Steve shrank back in his seat, his heart pounding with fear as he met her gaze. He knew he had crossed a line. "Elysia," Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a shiver down Steve's spine. "It seems our little friend here needs a lesson in obedience." Elysia nodded obediently, her expression shifting from sympathy to determination. She reached down to retrieve the fallen bottle, her movements deliberate and purposeful. Steve's heart sank as he realized he had sealed his own fate. He had defied the rules of this twisted reality, and now he would have to pay the price. With a sense of dread, Steve watched as Elysia approached once again, the bottle held firmly in her grasp. He wanted to protest, to beg for mercy, but he knew it was futile. Elysia's smile was gone now, replaced by a stern expression as she held out the bottle to Steve. "Drink," she commanded, her voice firm yet cold. Steve hesitated, his hands trembling with fear. He knew he couldn't refuse, not with Nyxara's menacing presence looming over him. With a heavy heart, he reached out to take the bottle, his fingers closing around it with a sense of resignation. But as he brought the bottle to his lips, a wave of defiance surged through him. He couldn't let them break him, not without a fight. With a sudden burst, he threw the bottle aside once again, his heart pounding with adrenaline. Nyxara's eyes narrowed with fury as she watched the bottle clatter to the floor once more. "Enough," she growled, her voice dripping with menace. "You will drink, or you will suffer the consequences." Steve's heart raced as he met Nyxara's glare, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He knew he had pushed his luck too far, but he couldn't bring himself to submit. He refused to be treated like a helpless child, to be forced into submission by these creatures. But before he could muster a response, he felt a sudden pressure in his chest, like a weight pressing down on him from all sides. He gasped for air, his lungs burning with the effort as he struggled to breathe. Panic surged through him as he realized he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even scream. Nyxara's voice echoed in his mind, cold and commanding. "You will obey," she whispered, her words sending a chill down his spine. "Or you will suffer." Steve's world spun as he struggled against the invisible force holding him captive. He tried to fight back, to break free from Nyxara's control, but it was no use. He was completely at her mercy, powerless to resist her will. Nyxara claimed the bottle from the floor and forced it back into his grip. With a sense of resignation, Steve closed his eyes and forced himself to drink from the bottle, his throat burning with each swallow. He felt a surge of nausea rise up in his stomach, but he forced it down, knowing that defiance would only bring more suffering. As he drank, he felt a strange sense of detachment wash over him, like he was watching himself from a distance. He knew he was losing himself, giving in to the darkness that threatened to consume him. But he couldn't stop, couldn't fight back. He was trapped in this nightmare, powerless to escape. As the last drop of milk slid down his throat, Steve felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He slumped back in his seat, his vision swimming as he struggled to stay conscious. He knew he had lost this battle, that Nyxara had won. As darkness closed in around him, he couldn't help but wonder what other horrors awaited him in this twisted realm. Nyxara's gaze shifted to Elysia, her eyes cold and calculating. "Once the children finish with their snacks, bring Steve to me for his punishment," she commanded, her voice dripping with malice. Elysia nodded obediently, its expression devoid of emotion. She turned to Steve, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, little one," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "But you must learn to listen. It's for your own good."

Chapter 1: The Morning That Changed Everything Kris woke up in the middle of the night. He felt the need to use the bathroom, which was a good thing for him. He actually woke up this time! Kris hated the fact that he was a bedwetter. He doesn't know when or how it started; he only knows that every morning, he wakes up to a wet bed. So, for him, waking up in the middle of the night is a miracle. He quietly got out from under his covers and started climbing down the ladder of his bunk bed, which he and his older brother, Kyle, shared. Shockingly, he managed not to wake his brother this time. Nearly every night, if Kris tries to get out of bed to get cleaned up, his brother wakes up, confirms that Kris peed himself, then falls back to sleep annoyed at the interruption. That in of itself wouldn't be too bad. If only Kyle would leave it at that. But no, Kyle goes out of his way whenever this happens to ensure Mom and Dad knew that Kris had an accident. So, to get away this time felt amazing, even if there wasn't an accident. He wouldn't have to confront his brother about it. Kris snuck out of the shared bedroom, past the girl's room across the hall, and went down the stairs to the bathroom, sitting at the bottom on the right. He did it! He made it to the potty in the middle of the night! Good thing, too, because he had to poop as well. Which was probably the reason he woke up this time. He hardly ever needed to do that so late in the evening. Proud that he managed to make it in time, Kris snuck his way back upstairs and into his bed, all without waking up anyone. He felt so proud of himself, he knew that tomorrow was going to be a good day. He would wake up to a clean bed in the morning, and hangout with his friends at Church in the afternoon. Kris loved that it was a Sunday. He knew his Mom would make a delicious breakfast for them all to enjoy. He wasn't a huge fan of going to Church every Sunday. It always felt boring to him. Playing with his friends before and after service started was always a blast, but sitting through the sermon felt like a chore. He woke up feeling excited to take on the day. Only, something didn't seem right. He was confused; why did it feel like his bed was wet? He made it to the bathroom last night, didn't he? He must have just had to go a second time without realizing it. he was frustrated that he had still managed to have an accident, wishing his trip to the toilet would have been enough to save him from his usual daily embarrassment. He started to remove his comforter so he could get out of bed and deal with his accident like he had done thousands of times before when suddenly, an odd sensation hit him like a ton of bricks. "No. I didn't. That's not fair," Kris thought, as he realized with confusion that he pooped himself in his sleep. He didn't get up to go to the bathroom; it was all just a dream. A cruel, unfair dream. Kris looked down and around his bunk briefly to check if Kyle had seen him start getting up. Maybe he could wait until he left their room and get cleaned up afterward. "Let's go, dude. Breakfast is on the table," Kyle called up to his brother from below his bed, as he finished putting on his socks for the day. "I'll be down in a minute," Kris replied, trying to remain calm. He tried to play things cool, acting as natural as he could. He hoped he could buy some more time, convincing his brother that everything was okay. "Well, hurry up and get dressed," Kyle replied impatiently. He knew Kris was a slacker, and would sleep in another two hours if they let him. "I'm gonna take a shower first." Kris tried to come up with an excuse as to why he would be late to breakfast. Knowing that if he went down in soiled pajama pants, his Dad would be furious. "Why?" Kyle shot back. They normally took showers in the evening. Kris saying he would take one first thing in the morning was odd. Unless, he had another accident. "He wet himself again. Didn't he?" Kyle already knew the truth. He was so frustrated sharing a bedroom with his little brother. He had been wetting himself for years now, and never really got the hang of nighttime training. He couldn't stand the fact that their room always smelled of urine. He's eight years old for crying out loud. Sam wasn't even wetting the bed anymore and she was six! "I just wanna take a quick shower, is all." Kris knew his brother probably saw through his lie by now. But held onto hope, that just maybe he would let this one slide. "You had another accident, didn't you?" Kyle poked, already knowing the answer. "...Yeah" Kris replied defeatedly. "Maybe he won't find out about how bad it is." Kris knew that he was busted. At this point, he just wanted to hide, and save himself from further embarrassment. "Just get changed. You can take a shower after breakfast if you really need to." Kyle was annoyed that he had to share a room with such a baby. "I'd really prefer to take one first." Kris's face burnt red as he blushed. He knew he was out of luck. There was no way his brother didn't know the current state of his situation at this point. "Why? It's not like you pooped yourself like a baby." "Oh my gosh, is that what that smell is? I thought he just farted or something." Kyle's face scrunched up in disgust. Kris just remained silent, not wanting to reply. His family has a strict no-lying policy, so he couldn't say he didn't, but he didn't want to admit it. *sigh* "I'll let them know you'll need an extra few minutes. But hurry up," Kyle told Kris, realizing what had happened, and that Kris would never admit to it. "Thanks..." Kris felt broken. He was grateful for his brother, thinking he would cover for him. But, the humiliation of his brother's words, and the state of his pajamas made him feel small and foolish. He thought he made it. He thought his parents would be proud of him for staying dry, but instead of just wetting his bed, he used it like a toilet. Chapter 2: Morning breakfast conversations Kris took the fastest shower of his life. He wanted to clean up this mess before anyone else had the chance to find out. He was lucky that the girls were already downstairs by the time he left the room, and the bathroom being at the bottom of the stairs was an added bonus saving him from the potential humiliation. His shower over, Kris bundled up his soiled and soaked pajamas into a ball. He hoped he could sneak them back upstairs before anyone saw them. He could get them cleaned later, first thing was not to let anyone find out. "Kris! Hurry up, bud. We are waiting on you," Kim, Kris' mom, shouted from the kitchen after hearing the bathroom door open. "Okay, I'll be down in a second, just need to put my pajamas back real quick," Kris replied, knowing he had to hurry before someone saw his clothes and questioned deeper on why he took a shower in the morning. "Don't!. Just put them in the laundry room. I'll get them washed later today." His mom replied. "That's odd? Normally, she has us all bring down all the laundry at once. Does she already know about my accident, or was she just trying to save me on time?" Kris knew he couldn't argue; he wanted to, but it wouldn't make sense. He might be able to play it off as him grabbing the rest of the laundry, but knowing the family was waiting on him to eat breakfast wasn't likely to work. Frustrated with the situation, he quickly took his bundled-up clothes and speed walked past the dining room to get to the back of the house towards the laundry room, hoping no one saw his soiled pajamas. Kris returned to the dining room, sitting in his usual spot next to his dad, across from his brother, with his younger sister Sam on his right. Everyone was in their usual spots. Something felt different. It felt like they were all looking at him, judging him. He hoped it was all in his head, but there was no way for him to tell. He was already self-conscious about what happened earlier with his brother. He knew he was a little late to breakfast, too, but that was nothing new; it was a common occurrence for him when it came to weekends. "French toast, yum! Thank you, Mom," Kris tried to distract himself with the world's best breakfast in his mind. His favorite part was covering his French toast in powdered sugar. It might be super unhealthy, but he didn't care. He was eight years old. He just wanted to eat something yummy. "Are we all ready to dig in?" Kim asked, making sure Kevin, their Dad, was ready to give the okay. He ran the house, so what he says goes. "Yep, let's dig in," he replied, grabbing his utensils and the first few slices from the stack of toast in the middle of the table. Everyone quickly followed suit to get their food. Kris had his classic white circle from all the powdered sugar around his plate. Kevin, seeing everyone enjoying the meal, and getting a few slices in his belly, decided to start some morning chatter. "So, how did everyone sleep?" "I slept great!" Tammi, the oldest of the four, started everyone off. She normally felt silenced due to their family dynamic; with "men running the house," so anytime she got a chance to speak up and be first, she wanted to take it. She wanted to be a role model for her siblings, especially for her younger sister. "I slept like a baby!" Sam chimed in next. Her words felt like a sharp pain in Kris's ears after his brothers comment this morning. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment at the remark. "I had this really cool dream. Do you wanna hear it?" She was the youngest, and always excited to go off on these wild dreams. Her imagination was hyper active, which made it easy for her to play by herself or with Kris at times, but also made for the longest stories ever. "Not right now, honey. Let's wait until everyone else goes first. Then, you can tell us all about it." Kevin told her. He didn't want to break her spirit about it, but he also knew once she got started, it might take an hour before she would finish. "Okay! How about you, Kyle? How did you sleep?" Sam poked, trying to get everyone through so she could share her story. She knew Kyle would be quick; he wasn't one to go into his dreams or be boring and talk about other things. "I slept okay," He replied. Kris could feel his heart racing. It nearly felt like it was trying to pound out of his chest. He was terrified at the thought that Kyle would tattle on him. Kyle nearly did every time he had an accident, it was almost like it was his mission to tell Mom and Dad whenever it happened. Would today be the same? "That's great. How about you, Kris? Did you sleep well?" Kevin knew Kyle was a young man with few words. He wanted to get to Kris, who he was wondering about. He had a feeling Kris had an accident this morning, otherwise why else would he have taken a shower so early in the day? Kris noticed a slight smile on Tammi's face. Kyle had his head down, looking at his food, and a small head shake. Kris had a feeling Tammi had found out what happened last night. He didn't know for sure, and wasn't about to admit to everyone at the breakfast table that he pooped himself last night. He didn't even want to admit when he wet himself, so this was a hundred times worse, he'd rather take this secret to the grave if he could. "Uhhh... Yea! I slept well. I even managed to wake up last night to go to the potty," Kris felt proud of himself, he knew he still had an accident last night, but the thought that he had made it to the bathroom, gave him a feeling of accomplishment. He might have thought it was a dream, but he also had no way to tell for sure if it was or not. "Liar! No, you didn't. Not even close. You pooped yourself in your sleep." Kyle snapped back, mad that his brother refused to own up to his accidents. "Kristopher!" Kim, shouted at him. The girls practically spat out their food at this reveal. They knew he wet the bed, he did it nearly every night without fail. But pooping himself? Only babies did things like that. Everyone was a little shocked that Kris didn't just own up to it. He normally tried to hide his bed wetting, but this was different, instead he tried to lie about it and claim he used the potty in the middle of the night. "Is this true?" Kevin's face was stern. He was mad that Kris would lie about this. Kris knew how he felt about lying. Normally, Kris would own up to having an accident, even if he wet himself on purpose, he would admit it. So why not this time? "Yeah..." Kris replied, defeated. There was no recovering from his brother's accusation. Kris could see his Dad was furious with this information. "What is up with this kid!? He uses his bed like his own personal toilet. This is insane!" Kevin thought. He was at his wits end with Kris's bed-wetting issue. They've talked about it hundreds of times, each one he claimed: "he didn't know what happened." "Dude! What happened?" Kevin was clearly irritated. "I don't know," Kris replied sheepishly. He really had no idea why he kept wetting the bed. He thought he did wake up in the middle of the night, but he couldn't dispute the fact that he woke up soaked, and covered in his own poop. "That's not acceptable." Kevin was livid at this point. He's had to buy several packs of underwear for Kris, each one to replace the pair he ruined from all his accidents. "I don't know why Daddy, I just didn't wake up." Kris sank in his chair slightly. He didn't know what to do or say. "Didn't wake up, huh? It sounds like he just didn't want to get up. How can this kid be so lazy and okay with peeing himself?" Kevin couldn't stand Kris's behavior. "So instead, you thought you'd lie about it and say you 'used the bathroom'?" Kevin wanted the truth out of his son. He wanted him to see the error of his ways, and that lying about it was wrong. He should know better. He needs to know better. Unsure how to answer, Kris just sat there in silence. *sigh* "Fine, let's go clean it up. You're going to watch how this is done. I'm sick of cleaning your bed for you. You're not a toddler anymore, and I'm too old for this." Kevin instructed Kris "Okay." Kris knew he was in trouble. But he didn't know what to do. It's not like he meant to poop himself in bed. All he knew was his dad was mad, and to not make things worse if he could avoid it. Chapter 3: The clean-up "Strip your bed. Everything needs to come off of it to clean up this mess." Kevin instructed his son. He left to get the spot shampooer from the cleaning closet, while Kris began to pull off his wet and soiled bedding. He felt a small tear forming in his eye. He never meant to make a mess; he didn't want this to be a part of his life, but it seemed like he had no choice in the matter. He felt completely humiliated at the situation he found himself in. That dream felt so real; he was positive he made it to the bathroom. "Did you get everything off?" Kevin spoke, breaking Kris's train of thought as he returned with the shampooer. "Yes, sir." Kris wanted to be as respectful towards his Dad as he could. Maybe, if he were lucky, his Dad wouldn't be any harder on him than he already was. "Good, now come here and watch how you get this thing ready." Kevin set the shampooer on the floor, placing the cleaning solution next to it. He didn't want to keep doing this, and after throwing out his old mattress, he didn't want to buy a new one either. Kris walked over to his Dad, standing next to him as his Dad poured the cleaner into the shampooer. "Only fill it to this line with the cleaner. The rest is warm water," Kevin instructed. "I don't want to have to keep doing this." Kris stood there in silence, slightly nodding at his Dad's words. "When will you grow up and stop peeing in your bed?" Kevin asked rhetorically. He knew Kris wasn't going to reply, and even if he did, it would just make him mad. Again, Kris didn't reply. How could he respond? It's not something he is in control of. *Sigh* "I guess that was more of a rhetorical question anyway. Alright, stay here and watch." Kevin positioned Kris in the doorway of his bedroom. He still had a rough line of sight but couldn't see too much of what his Dad was doing. "You really did a number on it this time. Not only did you soak it, but you managed to smear your poop so much it seeped through the sheets and onto the mattress." It was clear to see the look of disgust on Kevin's face. Kris felt embarrassed at his Dad's remark. He was used to feeling embarrassed whenever they talked about his accidents, but hearing his Dad's words while watching him clean up after his mess only made him want to hide behind the door frame. "I'm sorry," Kris said sorrowfully, looking down at his feet. "Sorry for what? Treating your bed like it's your own personal toilet?" Kevin snapped back, pausing his efforts to clean up the mattress. There was nothing he felt Kris could say that would make things better. Kris had no reply. He just stared at his Dad. He knew he couldn't say anything. He never intended to wet his bed; he never thought of it as a toilet, but there was no way his Dad would believe him. Not when he was mad like this. Five minutes into the cleaning process, Kris noticed his Dad had shifted focus from where most of the damage was done to a more whole-bed approach. Kris felt a little relief that this soon would be behind them. However, he also noticed that he had a growing pressure building up in his bladder. He needed to pee soon. He didn't want to interupt his Dad, but he also didn't want to stand here, bored, forever needing to pee. "Daddy?" Kris spoke up over the noise of the shampooer. "What?" Kevin switched off the machine to listen to what his son had to say. His tone made it clear he was still angry. "Can I go to the bathroom?" Kris asked sheepishly. He wanted to get out of this, but more importantly, he wanted to relieve himself. "Really? No apology, just asking to go to the bathroom after what you did to your bed?" Kevin thought to himself, upset at the thought that his son just wanted to get out of watching him clean up his mess. "Why don't you just go in your bed? After all, you seem to think it's a bathroom anyway." Kevin snapped back at his son in frustration. He couldn't believe he had the guts to try and get out of taking responsibility for ruining his bed. Kris wasn't sure what to do. He stood there frozen, afraid that he would just make things worse. He could do what his Dad told him, but that didn't make sense. His Dad was cleaning his bed, so he couldn't use it. Even if he did, he would be mortified to do so. He wanted to use the toilet. His other option was just to stand there waiting for his Dad to change his mind. Hopefully, he would. Each second there was silence between them felt like an eternity. The longer he waited to reply, the more likely he would make his Dad angrier. Trying to avoid making his Dad further upset only made this decision and his dad's comment all the harder. What is the right decision? Is there a right decision? "He's cleaning my bed. I can't go in it. Should I pee my pants instead?" Kris thought, torn on what he should do, not wanting to say a single word as that might upset his dad even more. "Well?!" his dad asked angrily. "You're just trying to get out of watching how to clean this up. Either hold it until we are done or pee your pants like the baby you've been acting like." Kevin had enough at this point after years of trying to get him dry during the night. His occasional daytime accidents didn't help. Especially since it was done on purpose each time. When confronted about it, he would admit he peed or pooped his pants on purpose either because he didn't want to stop playing or to try to get his siblings in trouble. It might have been a while since the last time that happened, but it felt like it was yesterday with all of his nighttime accidents. Kris blushed. Kyle calling him a baby was rude, but he could brush it off. Hearing it come from his Dad stung a little harder. He hoped he could hold it, but with all of the embarrassment and pressure from his dad, he wasn't sure. He felt he had to pee pretty bad, but was that because he did, or was it because he was trying to find a reason to avoid his dad for a little while? Kevin climbed off the ladder rather than starting to get back to cleaning. Kris felt his heart skip a beat as his Dad approached with the shampooer. "I need to empty this thing." He held up the shampooer. Kris could see the dirty tank on the shampooer; its water looked yellowy brown. He hadn't realized that his accidents had caused that much damage. "Stay here. You are not to leave this spot until I get back," Kevin instructed his son. "Okay," Kris replied. He wanted to follow his Dad, taking the chance to go pee. He was trying his best to hide the fact that he was starting to do a little potty dance. If his Dad had noticed, it would only make things worse and annoy him even more. Kevin left the room, leaving Kris alone with his thoughts. None of the other kids came over to check on him. Even having a conversation with Kris might have caused their Dad to get more upset, and no one wants to get switched. Just the thought of the plastic rod being used to spank them, was enough to send a shiver down their spines. Kris felt a huge pressure lift from his shoulders. His Dad's exit from the room gave him the chance to breathe. Kris wasn't sure if he was going to be punished or not today for what happened or if this was going to be the worst of it. All he knew was the sooner this could be over, the better. "Alright, this should be the last batch. Do you want to do it this time?" Kevin asked as he walked back into the room. Hoping his son would take responsibility this time. "Can I use the bathroom first?" Kris asked. He felt he wouldn't be able to hold on too much longer. He wasn't sure why his bladder was acting up so much, he just knew that he had to go, and he didn't want to shampoo his bed. *Sigh* "You're just trying to get out of doing work again. No. You can hold it until we are done. This will only take a few more minutes; wait here and watch." Kevin wasn't buying the fact that his son had to use the bathroom. He noticed his "potty dance" but wasn't buying that it was real. Kevin climbed back up the ladder to Kris's bed and started shampooing again. "I don't know if I can hold it much longer," Kris thought. Kris was doing his best to hold it in, he didn't want to do a potty dance, but he couldn't help himself. He placed his hand between his legs, trying to hold it in. Kevin was doing his best to ignore it. He knew if he addressed it, he would lose it, blowing his top off and yelling at Kris. He didn't want to do that, he was trying to not be a jerk, but the situation was really pushing his limits. Kris wasn't hopping from foot to foot but was shifting his weight from foot to foot now and then. Just enough to try and help, but not enough to become annoying. Kris kept trying his best, but after several minutes he reached the breaking point. He felt a small squirt of pee make its way to his pants. Dampening his underwear. It hadn't leaked through to his pants, but he knew he couldn't take it anymore. Another spurt quickly followed; afraid he was going to wet himself; Kris spoke up. Asking one more time would be better than just wetting himself in front of his Dad. "Daddy!" Kris shouted over the shampooer so his dad could hear him. "What now!?!" Kevin shouted back at his son as he turned off the shampooer. The pure anger on his Dad's face and the tone of voice used, full of anger and frustration sent a shiver down Kris's spine. It was too much for him. He was so scared; he lost his ability to speak, and... *hiss* He lost his control and started peeing his pants uncontrollably. "Dude!" Kevin shouted, "You've got to be kidding me. What are you two?!" Kevin lost it at this point. He quickly climbed down the ladder and walked over to his son. With how angry he was, he looked like he was ten feet tall and could bend a building in half if he wanted to. He grabbed Kris by the wrist and started dragging him toward the bathroom. Kris felt the tight grip on his wrist. He stumbled here and there, trying to keep up with his dad as he was pulled along. Kris felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He had no idea what would happen now. All he knew was this was the maddest he had ever seen his dad so far. "That's it, I've had enough. Fine! You want to pee yourself like a baby. You'll wear a diaper like one, too!" Kevin's shouting was heard throughout the whole house while he pulled Kris toward the bathroom. Kris's eyes were huge hearing this. His Dad threatened to put him in diapers before, but this was the first time it seemed like he was serious about getting them. Chapter 4: To the Store "Take a shower and get yourself cleaned up," Kevin told Kris, slightly tossing him into the bathroom. He felt furious that Kris would pee his pants like that. Kevin closed the door behind him, giving Kris some time to collect himself and clean up. "Unbelievable. He peed his pants. What is wrong with him? Yeah, he said he had to go. I bet he peed himself on purpose, hoping to get out of needing to finish cleaning his bed." Kevin's thoughts ran wild. He knew he was angry and likely wasn't thinking straight, but he followed through with what he told his kids. If they were throwing a fit at the store, they'd leave everything behind and go home until they learned to behave. He wanted them to learn that their word is their bond. Knowing he spoke out of anger didn't change the fact that he said he would get Kris diapers. Kris felt devastated. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the wet patch running down the front of his pants. He never felt more embarrassed in his life. He had wet his pants a few times after potty training, but that was either in the snow so no one could tell or when he didn't want to stop playing. This was the first time he accidentally wet himself in a long time. His Dad looked so angry. He'd never seen his Dad like that before. All he could hope for now was that the time it took for him to take a shower would be enough for his dad to calm down. "Kyle, go grab some clothes for your brother," Kevin spoke coldly. He wasn't going to let this instance with Kris affect the way he treated the others, but he also knew they needed to leave sooner. The quicker they all got ready, the better. "Girls, could you get the Bibles ready? We're heading to Church a little early today. We need to make a stop first." "Okay, Daddy!" both girls replied, quickly getting up from the couch and preparing for Church. Their family attended a small home-based church with about five families. They found that there was more community that way. Church service started at 11 a.m. on Sundays, and it was currently 9:10 am. The drive usually only took 30 minutes. Giving them only 30 minutes or so to shop if they left by 9:30 or 10. "Kris, you better hurry up with that shower. We're leaving for Church in 30 minutes. If you're not out in 15, I'll come in there turn off the hot water," Kevin said, trying to incentivize him. Kris quickly hopped into the shower and gave himself a quick but thorough cleaning He didn't know how long it took, all he knew was his Dad hadn't came in. So it must have been under 15 minutes. Stepping out of the shower, Kris heard his brother, Kyle, knock on the door. "I got you a change of clothes." "Thanks, be there in a second." Kris felt grateful that his brother had gotten him some clothes to change into. He quickly dried himself off, and opened the door a crack to grab the clothes. Luckily for him, it looked like Kyle had picked something he would enjoy wearing. Kris got dressed and sat on the toilet for a few moments, trying to calm down from the craziness this day turned out to be. Kris's moment of peace was short-lived as he heard another knock on the door. "Don't forget to use the bathroom before we leave. I don't want you peeing yourself while we are at the store." Kevin spoke briefly on the other side of the door. He wanted to hit the road soon. He always hated it when they were late. In his mind, if you're on time, you're late. "I will," Kris felt numb to his Dad's remark, already feeling destroyed for the day. The jabs felt like nothing; he was already miserable, and no one could make him feel any worse. He flipped up the lid on the toilet and tried to get anything and everything out. But nothing came out except for a few small farts. Not wanting to delay them, he quickly finished up and got ready to leave for Church. Kris opened the bathroom door and looked around, trying to see if his Dad was around. Not seeing any sight of him, he ran over to his mom. "Why are we going to the store before Church? I thought shopping was next week?" Kris hoped the reasoning wasn't what he thought it was. "I don't know, bud. Dad wants to make a quick stop before we get to Church this time," Kim lied. She knew that Kevin finally lost it and wanted to get Kris diapers, but she didn't have the heart to tell him. She secretly hoped that Kevin would just drop the subject but knew that wasn't likely to happen. Kris knew he was on the smaller side for his age, weighing only 46 lb. and measuring 3ft 8 inches. He was mad that he got placed back in a booster seat; now, he and Sam were both stuck in them. For a short while, he was able to go without them, finally feeling like the older brother to his sister, despite his accidents. The roll back to a booster seat, was a huge shot to his ego. The laws had changed to be based on weight or height limits instead of age, so he had no choice in the matter, yet another thing stolen from him. With everyone ready, the family started to pile into the car. Kris crawled into the back seat next to his younger sister, Sam. Even though he often had trouble buckling himself in, he could still manage it himself. "Everyone buckled?" Kevin asked from the driver's seat. "Yes," all the kids replied. Kevin was happy that all the kids managed to get buckled and settled in without issues for a change. He felt a small smile forming on his face. "Man, if only they behaved this well all the time," Kevin thought, but he knew they were only behaving because he was angry. The drive to the store was uneventful, which shocked Kevin. Normally, they have some type of argument, but it was total peace back there for a change. Kris sat in the back, trying to stay calm, but his nerves were getting the best of him. He didn't want to disappoint his dad or cause any more trouble. He just hoped that everything would be okay. Kevin pulled into a parking spot at the megastore. Kris tried to keep his anxiety in check as he unbuckled and made his way out of the car, following his family into the store. He knew that his dad was probably going to buy diapers for him. "Kyle, could you grab a cart for us, please?" Kevin asked, his tone softened. The drive over was enough of a break to take off the edge. Kyle wasted no time grabbing the cart and quickly ran back over with it. Kris followed his Dad and family into the store. He kept his eyes down, hoping no one would notice him. He felt small and vulnerable, like a little kid. He noticed that they were heading straight toward the baby section. His heart raced as his worst fear was becoming a reality. They were really going to buy diapers for him. He felt a lump form in his throat as they approached the diaper aisle. "Daddy, I don't need diapers," Kris said, his voice shaking a little. "Sorry, bud, I told you we would get them. Besides, your actions lately would say otherwise." Kevin replied, trying to sound gentle. "They'll be for you to wear at night, just in case. None of us want to keep cleaning your bed." Kris felt his face turn red. He didn't want to wear diapers like a baby. He knew he was a big kid. "Okay, let's see what we have here," Kevin began scanning the shelves, trying to find out which ones would fit him. He picked out a few different options. He found some nighttime pull-ups and some size 7 diapers that looked like they might do the trick, even if it was just to scare him into behaving better. "These should do the trick," Kevin handed Kris each box and package from the shelves he wanted to buy. He kept the selection semi-limited, only grabbing three different styles. Kris saw his sisters giggle slightly as he placed the box of size 7 diapers into the cart. He felt tears forming in his eyes. He didn't want to wear diapers. He wanted to be a big boy like his siblings. He knew that his dad was doing what he thought was best for him. Even if it made Kris feel embarrassed and small. As they checked out and headed back to the car, Kris kept his head down, hoping that no one would notice the boxes of diapers in their cart. He felt ashamed and humiliated. He knew that his dad loved him, but days like today made it a little hard for him to be close to him. He tried to focus on the thought of playing with his friends when they got to Church, but knowing that the diapers were easily visible in the back of their Suburban made him feel nervous that someone would see it. Chapter 5: Stressed Out Kris tried to keep his emotions under control as they pulled up to the home where their Church was held. It was a small, cozy place with a white picket fence and a large backyard. Kris was relieved to see that all of the other families were already there. There was no way anyone would see the diapers then, as they were the furthest away from the house at this point. He had a feeling his Dad was upset that they were late, but he couldn't see any signs if he was or not. Kris grabbed his things, including his Dad's bible, racing his younger sister down the stairs around the side of the house. They had a friendly competition between them over who could get into the house the fastest. They always had to slow down slightly as they approached the sliding glass door, not wanting to damage it or the host family's home. Entering the house, they set their bibles on the seats. They wanted to play with the other kids, but before they got the chance, they heard the other parents call them back to get ready for service to start. Kris felt disappointed; he had hoped he would have gotten a chance to play a little bit, at least before service started. His family joined them shortly after the kids returned and took their seats. Kris wanted to be frustrated, but he knew he was the cause of their lateness. With everyone in their seats, the service started. Kris's heart sank as they took prayer request for the week. He couldn't believe his ears when his Dad asked for them to pray about Kris's bedwetting problem. Kris wanted to sink away in his seat, to just disappear. One of his friends at Church knew about his issue, but that was because they had sleepovers all the time. Out side of him, he didn't think any of the other kids knew about it. He had to fight his emotions to just run away and hide, as he heard some of the other kids giggle, quickly being hushed by their parents. Kris knew he could do nothing about the situation. He tried to bury his face into his bible, and song book every chance he got. He followed along with the lesson like he always did. Zoning out mostly, he joined, singing along with the songs, but everything else felt like a bore. Before he knew it, the service was over, and the families were chatting about their week. It was one of the things they did to connect a little bit more. Kris both enjoyed and hated this part. He counted how many families were left before they were finally done. But every time it got to them in the past, he would get excited. He loved it when his parents talked about him and his siblings. They normally just talk about the good highlights, which always makes him feel special. He felt his anxiety rise as his Dad started to talk about their week. He was worried that he would talk about his bed wetting again. He was shocked that his Dad hand't brought it up again. Kris was relieved that service was finally over, but he felt tired. Everything was stressing him out, and the boredom of service didn't help. He wanted to just leave and go home, forgetting this nightmare ever happened. Unfortunately for him, his parents wanted to stick around for a while, chatting with the other adults. Kris began panicking. Would the other kids pick on him for wetting the bed? Would any of them find out about the diapers? He couldn't stop thinking about the box of diapers in the car. He felt embarrassed and ashamed as if he was somehow less of a person because he needed them. "Hey Kris! You wanna come play with us?" Breaking from his thoughts, he was hesitant, worried they might just want to pick on him. Play house or something and make him the baby. Kris looked at his friend, who had broken him out of his worries. It was Ben. Ben had already known about his accidents, so there was no way he would be planning something. Pushing his worries aside, Kris ran over to play with his friend for a while, distracting himself. Kris felt normal as he played with the other kids. No one said anything or even implied anything about his bed-wetting. He thought one of his siblings would have said something, but it seemed like they were content just having fun with the other kids. "Time to clean up." Kris heard his Mom call down the hallway. He felt bummed that they couldn't play longer but was happy he at least got a chance to have some fun before they had to leave. He grabbed his things and his Dad's bible, just like when he came in. Walking out the door and heading back up to the car was less of a race. Kris suddenly felt his Dad's hand on his shoulder, standing behind him. "You okay, bud?" He asked reassuringly. His Dad wasn't angry anymore. Kris could see a genuine interest in him, and how he was doing. Kris nodded, but he wasn't feeling okay at all. He felt ashamed for needing diapers, and he was sure that everyone knew it. Kevin placed his hand on Kris's back and gently nudged him on. "Come on, let's go home,". Kris climbed into the backseat of the car, feeling small and defeated as his eyes made contact with the box of diapers in the back. He buckled himself in and watched as his family got settled in the front. They drove away from Church. Kris couldn't shake the feeling that he was different from everyone else. He didn't want to be a burden, but he couldn't help feeling like he was. Kevin glanced back at Kris in the rearview mirror. "Hey, I know this is tough," he started. "But you did great at Church today. We'll get this bedwetting thing under control in no time, okay?" Kris didn't respond. He just looked out the window, trying to hold back tears. He knew that this wasn't going to go away overnight. He wanted it to, but he had no control over the situation. Kris was glad when they finally got home. He took his bible inside. He thought his parents were going to make him take the diapers in the house as well, or take them upstairs, but they hadn't said anything. Exhausted from the lack of sleep and from the emotional turmoil of the day. Kris decided he was going to take a nap. He normally didn't like taking a nap, not even in the car, but today. He needed it. He made his way upstairs, and climbed up into bed. His mattress was still slightly damp from cleaning it. Not wanting to get cold, he grabbed an extra blanket he kept in their closet, and placed it down on the mattress. He lay there, staring up at his ceiling. He had posters up for different events they went to. He felt lost, and alone. Like no other kid knew what it was like to be like him. He felt he was the only one in the world with these issues. But, as he lay there, he remembered that there are millions of other kids all around the world. There had to be other kids like him. He knew there was no way he was actually alone. Even with how his Dad acted, he knew he still loved him. Slowly, he started to feel a little better. He knew that things wouldn't be easy, but he also knew that he had his family to help him through. He closed his eyes, tired of thinking, tired of remembering, tired from being tired, and slowly drifted off to sleep. Little did he know, it was a bad idea to have fallen asleep... Chapter 6: Not Again… Kris shifted in his bed, slowly waking up from his nap. Stretching his arms up after getting some much-needed shuteye, he froze, reality shattering in with the awareness of another bedwetting episode. "Not again," Kris thought to himself. The familiar scent of his embarrassment was in the air. He climbed off his ladder, connected to his top bunk, and over to his dresser after yet another accident. Trying to hide his shame. "This is the third time today." Kris thought with defeat. "This isn't fair; I don't want to wear diapers." Kris opened his dresser drawer to get a new pair of underwear and clean pants. "You can't be serious," He whispered while looking through the drawers, franticly looking for some fresh underwear and pants, only to find none. Not even the pair of pants he usually doesn't wear. "Where are they?" Kris changed his focus to the dirty laundry, but there was nothing there either. Kris begins to tear up. "No. It's not fair. Where are they? I can't even find pajama pants." While Kris was sleeping, Kim asked Kyle to grab all his pants and underwear. This way, if he had an accident, he wouldn't be able to hide and lie about it. Feeling flustered on what to do, Kris stood there, contemplating the next steps. The thought of going downstairs in his soaked pants made his stomach churn with embarrassment. The alternative, staying upstairs to avoid the potential judgment from his family, seemed equally daunting. It would only be a matter of time before someone came up to check on him; then what would he do? After an internal debate, Kris took a deep breath and decided to face the consequences. He carefully headed down the stairs, each step accompanied by the hushed rustle of fabric. As he approached the bottom, a knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. Kris's older brother, Kyle, was in the living room with the rest of the family, engrossed in the TV. As Kris cautiously emerged, Kyle's eyes widened, and a mischievous grin played on his lips. "Hey, Kris! Nice pants! Did you have a little accident?" Kyle called out, his voice carrying through the room. A flush of embarrassment painted Kris's cheeks as he attempted to play it cool, doing his best to shield his pants from prying eyes. The living room fell silent, the TV momentarily forgotten as the family turned their attention to Kris's descent. "Seriously, Kris? Did you pee yourself?" Tammi, his older sister, chimed in with a teasing tone. Kris winced but nodded reluctantly, "Yeah, okay, I did. Can we not make a big deal out of it?" The silence lingered briefly before erupting into laughter and an onslaught of teasing from the family. "Dude! Did you forget how to use the bathroom or something?" Kevin, his father, spoke up, feeling frustrated. Kyle added, "Good thing we got you those diapers, Kris! Looks like you can use one right about now." "No..." Kris began, his voice trailing as he realized he had no ground to stand on with his current state. His shoulders slumped in defeat. His attempt to argue back was halted by the reality of his soaked pants and the amused expressions of his family. He shot a glare at Kyle, who was reveling in the moment. Sensing Kris's distress, Kim stepped forward; concern etched across her face. "Come on, Kris. Let's get you cleaned up." She motioned for him to follow her. As they retreated to the bathroom, Kris couldn't help but complain, "Where did all of my pants go? I couldn't find anything!" Kim sighed, understanding the frustration in Kris's voice. "I asked Kyle to gather your clothes, sweetie. These accidents are just something we're going to have to work through together. Hiding them won't help." Kris shot back, "But it's embarrassing! I don't want everyone knowing!" Kim knelt to Kris's eye level, her tone soft but firm. "Honey, we're a family. We support each other. You're not alone in this; we're here to help you. Now, let's focus on cleaning you up, and then we can talk about how to make things a bit easier for you, okay?" Kris simply nodded, still having a heavy heart. As Kim started helping Kris change into dry clothes, she suggested, "Maybe, for now, you could try wearing one of the diapers we got. It might help avoid these situations, and you'll know what it'll feel like later tonight." Kris's face scrunched up with reluctance. "A diaper? Mom, I don't want to wear diapers. I'm not a baby!" Kim looked at Kris, her eyes filled with empathy. "I know it's not ideal, sweetheart, but it could be a temporary solution while we work through this. You're not a baby; it's about finding a way to make things a bit easier for you. What do you think?" Kris hesitated, conflicted by the idea of wearing a diaper. He didn't want to give in to the teasing from his siblings, especially Kyle's recent comment. The thought of it made him feel small and helpless. "I don't know, Mom. I just don't want everyone to think I'm a baby," Kris muttered, looking down at the floor. Kim sighed, continuing to help Kris change into dry clothes. She spoke gently, "Kris, I understand this is hard for you, but wearing a diaper doesn't make you a baby. It's just a temporary measure to help you through a challenging time. Let's try it for now, and we'll work together to find a better solution." Kris remained resistant, his brows furrowed in frustration. "But Mom, I really don't want to. It's embarrassing, and Kyle just made that comment about diapers. I don't want to prove him right." "I know, Kris, but we need to find a way to manage this. The diaper is just a tool, and I promise we'll keep working on a more permanent solution. It's not about proving anyone right; it's about taking care of yourself." "I can't," Kris protested, his voice shaky. "I won't wear a diaper." Kim looked at Kris with a mix of empathy and determination. "Kris, I need you to understand that this is for your own comfort and well-being. We're a team, and as a team, we need to make decisions that are best for everyone. It's not just about what you want right now; it's about finding a way for all of us to get through this together." Kris sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of the situation. "Mom, I really can't." Kim, maintaining her resolve, looked directly into Kris's eyes. "Alright, Kris. I didn't want to do this, but if you don't wear the diaper willingly, I won't be able to give you any pants, and you'll have to go out with just the diaper on. It's your choice, sweetheart. Will you wear the diaper willingly or choose the second option?" Kris hesitated, realizing that his mom wasn't going to back down. Chapter 7: The Reveal Kris stood there, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he dreaded the idea of wearing a diaper, feeling like it would only magnify his embarrassment. On the other hand, the thought of not being able to wear pants and still needing to wear a diaper felt unfair. After a moment of tense silence, Kim broke the standoff with a gentle yet firm voice. "I understand this is hard for you, but I need you to choose. Will you wear the diaper willingly, or do we go with the second option?" Kris hesitated, feeling the weight of his decision bearing down on him. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Okay, Mom. I'll wear it." Kim's face softened into a small smile of relief. "Thank you, Kris. I know this isn't easy for you, but I promise we'll work through this together." She reached over to the sink, where a package of pull-up diapers lay. "Now, there are two designs for you to choose from." Holding out the two different designs for him to see. "There's the Hulk, and the other is radioactive. Which one do you want?" Kris glanced at the designs, feeling a glimmer of amusement amidst his discomfort. "Um, I guess...the Hulk one." Kim nodded, setting aside the radioactive design. "Great choice! Let's get you changed into this; then, we can join everyone out in the living room. Dad has some exciting news he wants to share with everyone." As Kris pulled up the diaper, he couldn't help but notice how different it felt compared to his usual underwear. It was thicker and bulkier, and the sensation of it hugging his waist felt strange and unfamiliar. Despite his reservations, he found a small sense of relief in knowing that he would at least have a clean pair of pants to wear over it. Once he was dressed, Kim knelt to his level, her expression full of warmth and encouragement. "How does it feel? Is it comfortable?" Kris hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's...weird. But I guess it's not too bad." Kim smiled, relieved that Kris had agreed to wear the diaper. "That's good to hear. I'm sure it'll feel more comfortable as you get used to it." She handed him a pair of pants, and Kris eagerly slipped them on, grateful for the added layer of coverage. As he adjusted the waistband, he couldn't help but steal a glance at himself in the mirror, half expecting to see the diaper outline beneath the fabric. To his surprise, there was no obvious sign of the diaper's presence. It was hidden well under his pants. Kris felt a rush of relief wash over him, realizing that maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he had feared. Kim watched Kris with a knowing smile, seeing the relief wash over his face. She knew that Kris was still self-conscious about wearing the diaper, but she hoped that with time, he would come to see it as just another part of his routine. As they left the bathroom, Kim lightly patted Kris on the butt, a gesture of encouragement and support. "You're doing great, Kris. Now, let's go see what exciting news Dad has for us." As Kris walked ahead of his mom towards the living room, Kim couldn't help but notice the slight outline of the diaper beneath his pants. It was subtle, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking for it, but to Kim, it was a stark reminder of the challenges Kris was facing. She hoped that none of the other kids would notice. The last thing Kris needed was more teasing and embarrassment from his siblings, especially after Kyle's comment about him needing a diaper now. Kim's heart ached for her son, knowing how much he dreaded being the center of attention for something he couldn't control. As they approached the living room, Kris's steps slowed slightly, his worry noticeable in the way he glanced around nervously, waiting for his mom to catch up. Kim could sense his fears of his siblings' reactions. Sure enough, as they entered the room, Kris's fears were realized. Tammi and Kyle were sitting on the couch, their eyes lighting up with mischief as they spotted Kris. "Hey, look who's here! It's diaper boy!" Kyle exclaimed, a smirk playing on his lips. Kris's heart sank at the sound of Kyle's taunting voice. He felt a surge of frustration and embarrassment, knowing that his siblings were already making fun of him. "Knock it off, Kyle," Kris retorted, his voice tinged with irritation. "It's not funny." Tammi joined in with a snicker, "Yeah, I guess he's officially a baby now, huh?" "I'm not a baby!" Kris retorted, his voice trembling slightly with frustration. "I just...I had an accident, okay?" But Kyle and Tammi seemed unfazed, continuing to taunt Kris with smirks and snide remarks. "Aw, poor baby Kris," Kyle taunted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Need mommy to change your diaper?" Tammi chimed in, "Yeah, maybe we should start calling you Baby Kris from now on!" Kris felt a surge of anger boiling within him, his fists clenching even tighter as he struggled to maintain his composure. He wanted to lash out, to scream and shout at his siblings for their cruelty. But deep down, he knew that wouldn't solve anything. Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm despite the overwhelming urge to retaliate. "You guys are jerks," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. As Kris fought to control his emotions, Kevin's voice boomed from across the room, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Enough!" His tone was sharp, his frustration evident as he glared at Kyle and Tammi. Kris looked up, relief flooding through him at the sight of his father stepping in. Kevin's eyes narrowed as he addressed his other children. "That was too far. Kyle, Tammi, apologize to your brother. Now." Kyle and Tammi exchanged guilty glances, their smirks fading as they realized the severity of their father's tone. "Sorry, Kris," they mumbled in unison, their voices barely above a whisper, gazing down, unwilling to look at him face to face. Kevin's stern reprimand seemed to deflate the tension in the room, and Kris let out a silent sigh of relief as his siblings begrudgingly offered their apologies. It was a small victory, but at least for now, the teasing had stopped. "Alright, now that is behind us," Kevin declared, his voice firm but calm. "I have some exciting news to share with all of you." Kris's ears perked up at the mention of exciting news, momentarily distracted from the lingering discomfort of the earlier confrontation. He glanced at his father, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Kevin's expression softened into a warm smile as he gestured towards the envelope in his hand. "Well, I ran into an old friend of mine the other day, and he offered us something pretty special." He paused for dramatic effect, relishing in the anticipation building among his children. "Tickets to Disney World." The words hung in the air, eliciting gasps of astonishment and excitement from Kris and his siblings alike. Kris's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart racing with anticipation at the thought of visiting the magical world of Disney. "Really? We're going to Disney World?" Kris exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement. Kevin nodded, his smile widening at his children's enthusiastic reactions. "That's right. We leave in two weeks." Kris could hardly contain his excitement, his mind buzzing with visions of thrilling rides and beloved characters. He glanced at his siblings, seeing the same spark of excitement mirrored in their eyes. Tammi let out a squeal of delight, imagining herself posing with her favorite princesses. Kyle grinned from ear to ear, eager to experience Disney World for the first time. Even Sam, being oddly quiet this whole time, jumped about with excitement. As the initial shock wore off, the room erupted into a frenzy of excited chatter and planning. Kevin watched with a sense of satisfaction, grateful for the opportunity to create cherished memories with his family. But amidst the excitement, Kris couldn't shake being nervous about wearing diapers at night now. The thought of exploring Disney World with his secret being left at the hotel for anyone to find weighs heavily on his mind. What if someone found them? Would his friends back at home find out? What would others think of him? Nevertheless, as he watched his family eagerly discussing plans and packing lists, Kris couldn't help but feel excited. This would be the first family vacation they have gone on, and to Disney World, no less! With that thought in mind, Kris was swept away in the excitement of the impending adventure, determined to make the most of every magical moment at the happiest place on earth. Chapter 8: Night One As dinner time approached, Kris's stomach churned with a mix of excitement and anxiety. The smell of his mother's cooking filled the air, giving him a temporary sense of peace. He took his seat at the table, feeling the soft padding under his butt as he sat on the hard wooden chair. It was both comfortable, and awkward having this newfound softness added. Shortly after, his siblings gathered around as they eagerly anticipated their meal. "So, Kris," Tammi began, her tone teasing as she shot him a mischievous grin. "Do you think you'll be able to handle all the excitement at Disney World without having any accidents?" Kris felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks at Tammi's remark, his heart sinking as he braced himself for another round of teasing from his siblings. Before he could respond, Kyle chimed in with a smirk, "Yeah, I heard some of those rides can be pretty intense. Are you sure you won't need a diaper change halfway through?" Kris clenched his jaw, his fists tightening as he fought to maintain his composure. He desperately wanted to sink beneath the table, away from the prying eyes and taunting remarks of his siblings. But despite his frustration, Kris knew that retaliating would only fuel their teasing further. So, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to plaster on a fake smile as he replied, "Ha-ha, very funny, guys. I'll be fine, thank you very much." His words sounded weak even to his ears, but Kris refused to let his siblings see how much their teasing truly affected him. Instead, he focused on his dinner, silently praying for the conversation to shift away from his bedwetting struggles. "That's enough, you two!" Kevin's voice is firm and authoritative. "I just told you two to knock it off in the living room a minute ago. If you keep doing this, you'll get a spanking." His siblings fell silent under their father's stern gaze, and Kris breathed a small sigh of relief. He appreciated his dad's intervention, even if it was a temporary relief from their teasing. With the topic changed, the family was able to enjoy the rest of dinner without incident. Despite the anxiety bubbling in Kris's stomach, he managed to put on a brave face and join in the conversation, even mustering a few laughs at his siblings' jokes that weren't about him for a change. Once dinner ended, Kim instructed Kris and Sam to help clear the table. Kris nodded as he gathered up the empty plates. Sam skipped over to him, a cheerful smile lighting up her face as she grabbed a stack of dishes. "Come on, Kris! Let's race to see who can finish first!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she ran towards the kitchen. Kris chuckled, the tension easing slightly as he followed his younger sister's lead. He focused on the task at hand, determined to prove that he could handle the simplest of chores and beat his little sister. As they worked, Kris felt a familiar pressure building in his bladder. He glanced toward the bathroom, noting his need to go, but he also knew that helping his mom with the chores was important. Ignoring the discomfort, he continued to clear the table. But as the minutes passed, the urge to use the bathroom became too strong to ignore. Kris excused himself, intending to quickly relieve himself before returning to help Sam. However, as he made his way toward the bathroom, Sam's voice rang out behind him, her tone accusatory. "Hey! Where do you think you're going? We're supposed to be cleaning up together!" Kris paused, turning to face his sister with a sheepish expression. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick. I'll be right back." But Sam wasn't convinced, her brow furrowing in suspicion. "Mom! Dad! Kris isn't helping!" she called out, her voice carrying through the house. Kris's heart sank as he watched his parents enter the room, their expressions questioning. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick." He told them, hoping they would understand. Kim's face softened with understanding, but Kevin's expression remained stern. "Alright. Hurry up and come back to help," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. With a nod of gratitude, Kris rushed to the bathroom, relief flooding through him as he used the bathroom. But even as he relieved himself, he couldn't shake the sting of embarrassment at being accused of shirking his responsibilities by his younger sister. While washing his hands, he couldn't help but notice that the pack of nighttime diapers that were in here earlier was gone, nowhere to be seen. Even looking under the sink and trying to find them, nada, they were gone. As Kris returns to help Sam with the dishes, he tries to push aside the embarrassment of the earlier incident. However, unbeknownst to him, his attempt to discreetly readjust his pants wasn't as successful as he hoped. The diaper's edge peeked out from the waistband, visible to any onlookers. While walking back from the bathroom and heading towards the kitchen, Kris could see his two older siblings out in the living room. Unwilling to make eye contact, he quickly rushed past to get back to help. Tammi and Kyle kept quiet, not wanting to test their dad, but looked at each other and gave a small snicker, seeing the diaper sticking out of the back of his pants. Back in the kitchen, Sam was absorbed in her task and didn't notice the diaper until she leaned over to place a plate on the counter. Her eyes widened in surprise as she caught a glimpse of the telltale edge. She straightened up, turning to Kris with a curious expression. "Hey, Kris," she whispered, a curious expression on her face. "Are you wearing a diaper?" Kris's heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he glanced around to ensure no one else heard. Then, checking his back, he noticed his pants were down slightly, showing it off. His cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. After hesitating for a moment, he nodded sheepishly. At the same time, pulling his pants back into place. "Yeah, I am," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Sam's eyes widened with surprise, but she quickly composed herself and leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper, "Is it because of your accident earlier?" Kris nodded again, grateful for Sam's understanding and discretion. He didn't know how he would have handled it if she had teased him like his other siblings. "Don't worry," Sam whispered, her voice filled with innocence. "I won't tell anyone. It's our little secret." Kris's shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh of relief. He knew he could trust Sam to keep his secret safe. With that weight lifted off his chest, he felt a newfound sense of comfort in their relationship. "Thanks," he whispered back, offering her a small but genuine smile. With the dishes cleared away, Kris and Sam joined the rest of their family in the living room. They settled down on the couch, enjoying the warmth and comfort of their home as they prepared for the rest of the evening. As they watched TV, Kris felt a sense of normalcy return, the tension from earlier dissipating with each passing moment. He chuckled at the antics of the characters on screen, feeling grateful for the distraction from his own worries. While relaxing, Kyle's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Kris," Kyle said, holding out a bowl of popcorn. "Want to share?" Kris hesitated momentarily; he hated when the kernels got stuck in his teeth. Despite the teasing from earlier, Kris knew his brother didn't actually dislike him. With a small smile, he nodded and grabbed a handful. "Thanks, Kyle," he said, his voice sincere as he passed the bowl back to his brother. Kyle grinned back at him, their tension easing as they shared a bowl of popcorn while watching TV to end the day. As the evening wore on, the family went about their usual routine. They took turns showering and getting ready for bed, the familiar rituals providing comfort and stability amidst the chaos of the day's struggles. As Kris made his way upstairs to prepare for bed, he couldn't shake off the lingering discomfort from the events of the day. Despite the break from his siblings' teasing, the memory of his exposed diaper and their whispered conversations still nagged at him. How could he be so careless? Entering his room, Kris approached his dresser, intending to retrieve his pajamas for the night. However, as he pulled open the drawers, his heart sank as he realized they were still empty. "Mom must still have them," Kris muttered, his frustration rising as he realized he would have to confront his mother about it. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Kris made his way to his parent's room, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet hallway. He paused outside the closed door, hesitating for a moment before mustering up the courage to knock. "Mom?" Kris called out tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper as he knocked. The door creaked open, revealing Kim's tired but welcoming smile as she greeted her son. "Hey there, bud. What's up?" Kris hesitated momentarily, "Um, Mom, I... I need some pajamas," he stammered, his gaze dropping to the floor in shame. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the fact that he needed to ask his mom for clothes. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," she said gently, her voice laced with regret. "I completely forgot to give them back to you. Here, let me get you a pair." Kim momentarily disappeared into the room before emerging with a pair of pajamas. She handed them to Kris, her smile apologetic as she met his gaze. "Here you go, sweetheart," she said softly. "I'm sorry for forgetting. You can wear these tonight," she said while handing Kris the only onesie pajama he still had left. Kris hardly ever wears it, as it's a bit itchy. But he isn't about to argue, it's been a long enough day as is. "Thank you." Kris accepted the pajamas with a grateful but exhausted smile. "Do you need a new diaper too?" Kris's eyes got huge; he wasn't expecting his mom to ask if he needed a diaper so casually. He hesitated, his stomach churning with discomfort. He glanced down at the clean diaper he was wearing, feeling a surge of embarrassment at the thought of his mom thinking he might have had an accident in it already. "N-no, I'm okay," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "This one's still clean." Kim nodded understandingly, though Kris could sense a hint of concern in her eyes. She didn't press the issue further, offering him a reassuring smile as she ushered him off to shower. "Alright, sweetheart. Just let me know if you need anything. Even if it's in the middle of the night and it leaks, okay?" she said gently, her hand resting on his shoulder comfortingly. The weight of his mother's words settled heavily on his shoulders. The idea of his diaper leaking in the middle of the night sent a shiver of anxiety down his spine. He nodded silently, unable to find his voice as he swallowed back his fears. "Okay, Mom," he finally managed to murmur, his voice barely audible as he forced a weak smile. Kim's expression softened, her hand giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. Now go take your shower and get ready for bed. You'll feel better after a good night's rest," she encouraged. Kris nodded again, offering his mom a small but appreciative smile before stepping into the bathroom. As he closed the door behind him, he leaned heavily against the sink, his mind racing with worries and doubts. He couldn't shake off the worry about the possibility of his diaper leaking in the middle of the night. The thought of waking up in a wet bed, embarrassing himself further, sent a shiver down his spine. Pushing the thoughts to the side, Kris opted to get his shower done and over with. It's been a long day, and they have a trip in two weeks that he can't wait for. 13 nights until they leave. As he emerged from the shower, Kris wrapped himself in a towel, his thoughts consumed by the uncertainty of what lay ahead: would he have accidents at Disney World? Are the rides really scary? What will the plane ride be like? It's his first time, after all. He dried himself off mechanically, his movements automatic as he tried to push aside his fears. His fingers hesitated as he reached for his clothes, hovering uncertainly over the diaper. Did he really need to put it back on? Then he glanced at the onesie pajamas his mom had given him; why did she have to pick those of all the sets he had? Seeing the pair made him feel even more like a baby, a stark reminder of his vulnerability. With a heavy sigh, Kris reluctantly slipped into the diaper and his pajamas, feeling the scratchy fabric against his skin as he struggled to adjust to the annoying sensation. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being exposed and the helplessness of having his accidents and the solution to them on display for everyone to see. How did this day go so wrong? But despite his misgivings, Kris knew he had no choice but to soldier on. With a resigned sigh, he climbed up his ladder to his bunk upon reaching the top, a reminder from earlier in the day. No one cleaned up his accident from his nap. Kris hung his head low as he climbed back down his ladder to ask his mom for help yet again. "What's up, dude?" Kyle asked as he was crawling into his bottom bunk. "My bed is still wet from earlier," Kris responded, giving up on trying to hide anything at this point in the day. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about this day. "You didn't clean it up yet?" "No." "Dad just showed you how to earlier. Why didn't you just clean it up?" "I didn't think about it; I kind of forgot about it with everything that's happened today." "What's going on, you two? Lights should have been out by now?" Kevin came over to check in on his two boys. "Kris's bed is still wet from when he peed himself earlier today," Kyle told his dad nonchalantly. *Sigh* "Alright, grab the shampooer you're doing it this time." Kevin told Kris while looking annoyed but drained at the same time. Not nearly as angry as he saw him last time they cleaned his bed. Kris quickly left their room and went downstairs to get the shampooer from the laundry room. Luckily for him, it still had some cleaner in it from last time. "Do you remember how to use it?" "Yes, sir," Kris replied as he started up his ladder. "Good, hurry up and get it cleaned up. I'll be back in a minute with a towel you can put down and a new set of sheets." Kevin instructed Kris as he left the room. Tired and just wanting to be done with the day, Kris rushed in to clean the bed. Spraying down the cleaner, then using the nozzle to suck up the mucky yellow grime and bubbles laden in the fibers. The two scents swirled together, creating an unpleasant combination but leaving behind at least a milder scent on the bed. Once finished to the point where the bed was at least acceptable to lay in, he climbed down his ladder and set the shampooer to the side of their bed. He didn't want to return it downstairs. He was done and just wanted the night to end. He then stood in front of the ladder, waiting for his father to return with the promised towel. Kevin returned a moment later with a fluffy towel tucked beneath one arm and a new pair of sheets in the crook of his other. Looking to the shampooer, he tossed the towel up on the top bunk while reaching for the machine, he dropped the sheets to the floor. "Make the bed, and go to sleep." His father said as he exited the room without glancing at Kris. Not wanting the night to drag on any longer than it had to, Kyle got out of bed and helped Kris make his bed by handing him his sheets and a new blanket. "Night dude," Kyle told his brother, as he turned off the light and got back into bed himself, pulling up the novel he had been reading. Exhausted from the day, Kris felt himself drifting off to sleep, his worries and fears momentarily forgotten in the embrace of slumber. Chapter 9: New Routines A few days had passed since the family's decision to use night diapers for Kris. The household had settled into a new routine, one that involved Kris needing to greet his mom and siblings downstairs in the morning before he could get changed and take a shower. It was frustrating, needing to ask for his clothes each day as if he couldn't be trusted to clothe himself without trying to hide something. For Kris, these days were a mix of relief and anxiety. The diapers offered a sense of security, knowing he wouldn't wake up in a wet bed. The mornings were particularly challenging for Kris. As he woke up, he would gingerly check his diaper, his heart sinking at the realization that it was wet once again. He would silently curse himself for not being able to control his bladder like a normal kid—a constant reminder of his predicament, a fact that was not lost on his siblings. Kyle and Tammi had toned down their teasing, at least in front of their parents. Still giving Kris a knowing look or smirk on occasions whenever he had to ask for clothes or the topic of his bedwetting came up. On the other hand, Sam kept her promise and never mentioned Kris's diapers to anyone else. He was grateful for her loyalty, even if it didn't completely erase his embarrassment. However, the worst part came when he had to face his family at the breakfast table. He could feel their curious gazes lingering on him, their unspoken question hanging in the air. Was he dry this time? He ignored the whispers and glances, focusing instead on his breakfast. Despite his efforts to ignore it, Kris couldn't escape the sensation of his wet diaper as he sat down to eat breakfast. The crinkle of the diaper seemed louder than ever. Every shift in his seat brought a new awareness of the soggy padding between his legs. As he picked at his food, Kris felt shame and frustration. He hated the way his family tiptoed around the topic of his bedwetting, their sympathy only serving to highlight his embarrassment. He longed for things to return to "normal," to wake up in a dry bed and not worry about diapers or accidents. Across the table, Kris could sense the curious glances of his family, their eyes flickering briefly in his direction before hastily averting their gaze. He knew what they were thinking, even if they didn't say it out loud. He was the diaper boy now, the one who couldn't even control his bladder, just like a baby. After he finished breakfast, Kris sat in the lingering discomfort of his wet diaper, waiting for his siblings to finish eating before he could change. His mom broke the silence, her voice gentle yet tinged with concern. "Kris, how did you sleep, bud?" she asked. Kris shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Fine, I guess," he muttered, not wanting to admit that he'd been able to sleep more soundly through the night. His mom nodded, her expression softening. "That's good to hear. I know this is hard for you, but I'm proud of how you're handling it. You're being really brave." Kris forced a small smile, grateful for her words even as he felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't feel brave; he felt embarrassed and ashamed. But he didn't want to disappoint his mom, so he nodded, silently agreeing. As his siblings finished breakfast and dispersed to start their day, Kris pushed himself away from the table with a heavy sigh. He knew the routine by now: follow Mom to her room, get changed, and try to put on a brave face for another day. With a reluctant shuffle, Kris trailed after his mom, the weight of his soggy pull-up reminding him of his current reality with each step. His heart sank as he entered her room, feeling the familiar mix of embarrassment and resignation wash over him. Kim turned to him with a gentle smile, her eyes full of warmth and understanding. "Let's get you a change of clothes," she said softly, motioning for him to come closer. Kris hesitated momentarily, the knot of shame tightening in his chest. But he knew there was no use fighting it; the sooner he got changed, the sooner he could enjoy the rest of his day. With a resigned nod, he approached his mom, feeling like a little kid again, as she helped him pick out his clothes for the day and directed him toward their bathroom to get cleaned up. Despite the tenderness of his mom's actions, Kris couldn't shake the lingering sense of humiliation that clung to him. Each moment spent in that room felt like an eternity, a reminder of how different his life had become. Before, he would have loved to have story times; now, with his predicament, this room just meant he was a baby needing to rely on his parents. After changing out of his wet pull-up, Kris left his parents' bedroom, trying to shake off the feelings of embarrassment that still clung to him. He was determined to enjoy the day and joined his siblings for some schoolwork. Kris felt a sense of normalcy as they worked through their lessons. Being homeschooled meant he could focus on his studies without the added pressure of dealing with teasing or judgment from classmates outside of his siblings. He was grateful for this small comfort, even as he struggled with his bedwetting. After finishing their schoolwork, their mom gave them some free time, and Kris decided to relax by watching TV with his siblings. As he sat on the couch, the familiar comfort of their family room surrounding him, Kris felt himself beginning to relax. However, as the afternoon wore on, Kris felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Despite trying to stay awake, he soon found himself dozing off. As Kris dozed off on the couch, his siblings exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern and mischief. "I think he's asleep," Kyle whispered, nudging Tammi with his elbow. Tammi raised an eyebrow. "Should we wake him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Kyle shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Nah, let him sleep. The last time he fell asleep, he wet himself. Maybe this time, he'll learn his lesson." Tammi stifled a laugh, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. It's his fault if he wets himself again." Engrossed in the TV show, Sam was oblivious to their whispered conversation. She sat on the floor, eyes glued to the screen, unaware of her siblings' scheming. A few minutes passed, the room filled with the sound of the TV and Kris's soft snores. Suddenly, Kris jolted awake, a look of panic on his face. He felt warm wetness spreading in his crotch and realized with horror that he was wetting himself. Jumping up from the couch, Kris dashed for the bathroom, his siblings' laughter ringing in his ears. He could feel the wetness soaking through his pants, the shame burning hot on his cheeks. With all his might, Kris ran, hoping to make it to the bathroom in time to finish. Kyle and Tammi watched from the couch, their laughter growing louder as Kris hurried away. Sam, finally noticing the commotion, turned to see Kris's retreating figure, confusion clouding her face. "What's going on?" she asked, looking between Kyle and Tammi. "He wet himself again," Kyle said, barely able to contain his amusement. "Looks like he didn't learn his lesson after all." Tammi giggled, shaking her head. "I can't believe he did it again. What a baby." Sam frowned, feeling a pang of sympathy for Kris. "That's not very nice, guys. It's not his fault." Kyle shrugged. "Maybe not, but it's still funny." Tammi and Kyle exchanged a glance before getting up from the couch and following Kris to the bathroom. They stood outside the door, their whispers barely concealed. "He's such a baby," Tammi muttered, rolling her eyes. Kyle chuckled. "I know, right? How hard is it to control your bladder?" Kris was too late. He stood frozen, a trail of pee leading from the bathroom door, dribbles marking his path to where he stood, a growing puddle forming at his feet. Shame washed over him in waves, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he heard the mocking voices on the other side of the door. "He must really like the smell of urine because he can't go one day without peeing himself!" Kyle teased from the other side of the door. Tammi bursting into laughter only made Kris feel worse about the situation. Why did they have to follow him over, just to tease him? "I can't believe this is happening again," Kris thought, his heart sinking with each passing moment. He knew the teasing would only intensify now. With a heavy sigh, he forced himself into action, his movements robotic as he hurried to clean up the mess. Grabbing a nearby towel, Kris knelt down, wiping up the puddle on the floor with shaky hands. He felt the weight of his wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin as he worked, the humiliation of the situation nearly suffocating him. With each swipe of the towel, he tried to erase the evidence of his latest accident, but the shame lingered, staining him from within. Once the floor was somewhat dry, Kris turned his attention to himself, hastily wiping his legs dry with the towel before discarding it into a growing pile of wet clothes. Wrapping another towel around his waist, he tried to shield himself from the prying eyes of his family, though he knew it was futile. As he stood there, his heart heavy with embarrassment, Kris couldn't help but wonder when this nightmare would end. Outside, Kim noticed the commotion and walked over, her brow furrowed with concern. "What's going on?" she asked, looking at Tammi and Kyle. Kyle smirked. "The baby had another accident," he said mockingly, earning a stern look from Kim. "Kyle!" she said, exasperated by his attitude. Inside the bathroom, Kris's heart sank. He knew there was no way to hide his accident now. He slowly peeled off the towel, ashamed, and looked down at his pants. They were soaked, the wetness clearly visible. Defeated, Kris opened the bathroom door and stepped out, avoiding eye contact with his family. He knew he had to ask his mom for new clothes. There was no way to hide what had happened. Kim's heart ached with frustration as she saw Kris's situation. She knew how embarrassed he must feel. "Come here," she said gently, leading him away from his siblings. Once they were out of earshot, Kim crouched down to Kris's level, her eyes full of compassion. "It's okay, sweetheart," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. "Accidents happen, and it doesn't make you any less of a big kid." As Kris stood there, his wet pants clinging uncomfortably to his skin, he couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in his mom's shoulder, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. "I-I heard them," Kris choked out between sobs. "Kyle and Tammi... t-they were making fun of me. They called me a baby... they said I liked the smell of urine..." Kim's heart clenched at the pain in her son's voice. She held him tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Oh, honey," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that. You're not a baby, sweetheart. You're just going through a tough time, and it's okay to feel upset about it." Kris sniffled, trying to compose himself. "But it hurts, Mom," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "It hurts when they say those things..." Kim nodded understandingly, brushing away his tears. "I know, honey. It's not fair, and it's not right for them to tease you like that. You're being so brave, and I'm proud of you. Don't let their words make you feel small." Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Kim made a mental note to have a serious talk with Kevin about Kyle and Tammi's behavior. No sibling should ever make their brother feel ashamed like this. But for now, Kris needed comfort and reassurance. Kim took a deep breath, holding her son at arm's length so she could look him in the eye. "Listen to me," she said firmly, her voice gentle yet firm. "You are loved, you are valued, and you are not alone in this. We're a family, and we stick together, no matter what. If anyone dares to make fun of you again, they'll answer to me. Understand?" Kris nodded, his eyes wide with gratitude. "Th-thank you," he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion. Kim smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I'm here for you, always." Kim held Kris at arm's length for a moment longer. With a tender smile, she gently nudged him toward the direction of her closet, where his clothes were located. "Go on, sweetheart, get changed." she encouraged him softly. Kris disappeared into his parent's master bathroom for the second time that day. Meanwhile, his mom reached for her phone. She dialed Kevin's number, her mind racing with everything that had transpired. He picked up after the second ring, his voice tight with concern. "Hey, what's going on?" "Kev," Kim began, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. "It's about Kris..." She recounted the distressing events that had unfolded, the hurtful words from Kyle and Tammi, and Kris's tearful reaction. Her anger simmered beneath the surface as she relayed the experience and remembered the words from Kris and his tearful little eyes. By the time she finished, there was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. She could almost feel Kevin's frustration radiating through the phone. "That's it," he said finally. "I've had enough of this. Those kids need to learn some respect, and if they won't listen to reason, then they'll learn it the hard way." Kim's heart skipped a beat at the intensity in her husband's voice. She knew he meant business. "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Tell them," he replied, his tone unwavering. "Tell them that if they dare to make fun of Kris again, about his diaper, about his accidents, by calling him a baby, or anything along those lines. They'll be facing consequences. And not just any consequences – they'll be wearing diapers themselves. Let's see how they like it." Kim felt a surge of relief wash over her at Kevin's words. It was about time someone put their foot down and stood up for Kris. "I'll talk to them," she promised, her voice firm with determination. "They need to understand that this behavior is unacceptable." Chapter 10: You Were Warned Kim took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she knew she needed to have with her children. With resolve in her heart, she motioned for Kris to join her as she made her way out to the living room. "Kyle, Tammi, Sam," Kim called out, her voice steady but commanding. "Come here, please. We need to talk." The children gathered around. Their mother's serious tone piqued their curiosity. Kyle's eyes widened as he noticed Kris standing beside their mom, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. "I spoke with dad about what happened." Kim's gaze shifted to Kyle, who squirmed under her gaze. His eyes grew wide, a mixture of nervousness and guilt flashing across his face. He had a sinking feeling that he was about to be in trouble. "I have something important to discuss with all of you," Kim began, her gaze firm as she addressed her children. "We've noticed some behavior towards Kris that is completely unacceptable. Teasing him about his accidents, his diapers—it's hurtful and unfair." Kyle shifted uncomfortably, realizing the gravity of the situation as his mother's words sank in. "Dad and I have decided that enough is enough," Kim continued, her voice unwavering. "Any teasing or making fun of Kris will not be tolerated. And if any of you choose to continue this behavior, there will be consequences." A tense silence filled the room as Kim's words hung in the air. Kris stood beside her, a sense of relief filling him up and refueling his spirit. "Consequences?" Tammi echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Yes," Kim affirmed, her tone resolute. "Your father has made it clear that if any of you continue to tease Kris about his accidents or his diapers, you will be wearing diapers yourselves. It's time to treat your brother with the kindness he deserves." Kyle's eyes widened in disbelief, the weight of his mother's words sinking in. He exchanged a nervous glance with Tammi, realizing that their actions had serious repercussions. "Understood?" Kim asked, her gaze sweeping over her children, her authority unyielding. The siblings nodded solemnly, a newfound understanding dawning on them as they absorbed their mother's words. "Good," Kim said, her voice softening slightly. "Now, I want each of you to return to your studies. We'll discuss this further later." The children nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation. They dispersed, heading back to the kitchen table to resume their studies. Kim watched them go, a sense of relief washing over her. She hoped that her words had made an impact on them, especially Kyle, who had such a bad habit of embarrassing his younger brother. As the afternoon wore on, the house was filled with the sounds of pencil scratches on paper and the occasional rustle of a textbook page. Kris focused on his work, feeling a sense of ease as his humiliation ended. He knew his siblings' teasing wouldn't stop overnight, but he hoped his parents' intervention would make a difference. After another hour or two of studying, the front door creaked open, and their father's voice filled the house. "I'm home!" Excitedly, the children abandoned their books and rushed to greet their father. Kevin smiled as he was bombarded with hugs and stories about their day. He tousled Kyle's hair and praised Tammi for her progress in math. Sam clung to his leg, chattering away about her drawings. Kim emerged from the kitchen. "Welcome home, dear," she said, kissing Kevin's cheek. "Thanks, honey," Kevin replied, returning her kiss. "Smells like dinner is almost ready." "Just about," Kim confirmed. "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner will be ready soon." Kevin headed to the bathroom to freshen up, and Kim returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. The children chatted excitedly at the table while packing their school supplies, eager to tell their father about their day. Once dinner was ready, they all sat down to eat, the atmosphere light and cheerful. Kevin listened intently as the children recounted their day. Kris felt a sense of peace settle over him as he sat with his family, grateful for the love and support of his parents. As they finished eating, the clinking of utensils against plates gradually subsided, and a comfortable silence settled over the family. Kevin leaned back in his chair, a contented smile gracing his lips as he watched his children chat animatedly about their day. However, amidst the jovial atmosphere, he couldn't shake off the nagging concern that he had to address the incident from earlier. "You know, kids," Kevin began, his tone casual yet tinged with seriousness, "I overheard something earlier today." The room grew quiet as all eyes turned to Kevin, curiosity etched on their faces. Kris's heart skipped a beat, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks as he realized what his father was about to address. He had hoped his accident earlier would go unnoticed by his dad, but it seemed that wasn't the case. Kevin's gaze swept over his children, his expression solemn. "It seems that some of you were picking on Kris earlier," he continued, his voice steady but firm. "Making fun of him for wetting his pants." A heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Kris's cheeks burned with embarrassment, his gaze fixed on the tabletop as he avoided his father's penetrating stare. He hadn't expected his dad to find out about his accident, let alone address it in front of the entire family. Kevin's eyes softened as he observed Kris's discomfort, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. He hated seeing his son squirm, knowing that he bore some responsibility for Kris's predicament. Kevin cleared his throat, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "I want to make something very clear," he began, his gaze shifting between his children. "Teasing Kris about his diapers, his bedwetting, having an accident, or anything like that is completely unacceptable." The children listened intently, their expressions a mix of guilt and understanding. "As a consequence," he continued, his voice firm, "if I hear of any more teasing or making fun of Kris, the offender will also be wearing a diaper. Is that understood?" The children nodded, their earlier joviality replaced by a sense of seriousness and respect. "Good," Kevin said, his tone softening. "Now, let's all pitch in and get everything cleaned up from dinner. We've got a movie to watch tonight." As the kids cleaned up the table and the dishes from dinner, Kevin headed to the living room to set up a movie for them all to watch. He rummaged through the movie collection, finally settling on "Spy Kids," a family favorite. In no time, the living room was filled with laughter and excitement as the kids gathered around the TV. They squabbled playfully over who would sit where eventually finding their spots on the couch or sprawled out on the floor. Kevin dimmed the lights, setting the perfect ambiance for a cozy movie night. As the opening credits of "Spy Kids" began to roll, the room was alive with chatter and anticipation. The kids traded playful jabs and teasing remarks, their earlier tension forgotten in the excitement of the movie. Kris felt a sense of relief wash over him as he settled in beside his siblings, grateful for the chance just to be a kid again. The movie played on, and the kids were soon swept up in the action-packed adventures of Juni and Carmen Cortez. They cheered and gasped at all the right moments, their laughter ringing through the room. However, in the scene where Juni calls Carmen a "diaper lady," Kyle makes a fateful mistake. In the midst of their playful banter, he turned to Kris with a mischievous grin and said, "I guess that makes you Carmen, huh Kris?" The room fell silent as Kyle's words hung in the air, the playful atmosphere evaporating in an instant. Kris felt his stomach clench with embarrassment and hurt, his cheeks flushing crimson as all eyes turned to him. Kevin's expression darkened as he glanced between his children, a stern frown marring his features. He had hoped that their earlier conversation would have made an impact, but it seemed that Kyle still had a long way to go in understanding the gravity of his words. "Kyle," Kevin said, his voice low and authoritative. Kyle's grin faltered, his earlier bravado replaced by a look of sheepishness. He glanced down at his lap, suddenly finding the rug pattern incredibly fascinating. "I'm sorry," Kyle mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Kris met his brother's gaze, seeing the genuine remorse shining in his eyes. Despite the hurtful words, he knew Kyle didn't mean any harm. With a small nod, Kris offered his forgiveness. Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to diffuse the tension in the room. "Let's just focus on the movie, okay?" he suggested, his tone gentle yet firm. The kids nodded, their earlier enthusiasm dampened but not extinguished. With a collective effort, they turned their attention back to the TV, immersing themselves once more in the world of "Spy Kids." As the end credits of "Spy Kids" rolled, the room was filled with a somber silence. The kids sat in muted contemplation, the earlier excitement of the movie night now overshadowed by the tension that lingered in the air. Kevin watched his children. His thoughts were weighed down by the realization that his threat hadn't sunken in yet. He knew he needed to address the situation before it escalated further. Sighing, he rose from his seat and motioned for Kyle to follow him. "Kyle, I need to talk to you for a moment," Kevin said, his tone gentle yet firm. Kyle nodded, his expression wary as he followed his father out of the living room and into the hallway. "Listen," Kevin began, his voice low but stern. "I need to talk to you about what happened." Kyle's brow furrowed in confusion, a hint of apprehension creeping into his features. "What do you mean?" "I mean your behavior towards Kris," Kevin clarified, his gaze unwavering. "Teasing him about his accidents and diapers is not okay. Your mom and I have made it clear that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated." Kyle shifted uncomfortably, a sense of guilt gnawing at him. He hadn't realized the impact of his words until now, seeing the disappointment in his father's eyes. "I'm sorry," Kyle said, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to hurt Kris. It was just a joke, you know?" Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand that, but thinking about how your words can affect others is important. Kris has been through a tough time, and he needs our support, not our teasing." Kyle nodded, his expression contrite. "I get it. I won't tease him anymore, I promise." "I'm glad to hear that," Kevin said, his tone softening. "But there's something else we need to address. As a consequence of your behavior, you'll wear one of Kris's pull-ups to bed tonight." Kyle's eyes widened in disbelief, a mixture of shock and embarrassment crossing his face. "What? But Dad, it was just a joke! He's fine!" Kevin shook his head, his tone firm. "I'm sorry, dude, but we must follow through. You need to understand the seriousness of your actions. I can't let you just get away with it. What would be the point in that, after what we just talked about at dinner?" Kyle reluctantly nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. They head back out to the living room, where Kevin instructs the kids to get ready for bed. The girls went upstairs while Kris headed toward their parents' room to get a pull-up and his pajamas for the night. Kris notices Kyle following him, which makes him feel a little uncomfortable. Kyle doesn't say anything as they wait for their parents in their parents' room. Kris looks at Kyle, unsure of what to say. He knows his brother is probably feeling embarrassed about having to wear a pull-up to bed, but Kris can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, knowing that Kyle is finally getting a taste of his own medicine. As Kris and Kyle wait in their parents' room, Kris feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him—relief that his parents are taking action against the teasing, the satisfaction that Kyle is finally facing the consequences, but also a twinge of envy that Kyle seems to be treated with more dignity at this moment. His thoughts are interrupted when he notices his mom grabbing two pull-ups from the package and handing one to each of them. Kris's surprise lingers as he takes the pull-up from his mom's hand, his eyes flickering between the diaper in his hand and the one in Kyle's. Before Kris could dwell on his thoughts, his mom interrupted, handing him some pajamas and ushering him off to get changed in their master bathroom. As Kris heads towards the bathroom, he hears his mom's voice directed at Kyle. "Go put it on and go to bed," she instructs her tone firm but not unkind. "You better wear it. I'm trusting you to be responsible. If you're not, there will be worse trouble." Kris can't help but feel a pang of envy as he listens to his mom's words. Despite the embarrassing situation, Kyle is being treated with a level of trust and responsibility that Kris hasn't experienced. It stirs up conflicting emotions within him—on the one hand, he's glad that Kyle is finally facing the consequences for his teasing, but on the other hand, he can't shake off the unfairness of the situation. As Kris changes into his pajamas and pulls on the pull-up, he can't help but wonder how this night will unfold. Will Kyle wear the pull-up to bed? Will their parents follow through with the consequences if he doesn't? And most importantly, will this finally end the teasing once and for all? Chapter 11: This is Unfair As Kris entered the bedroom, he found Kyle already in bed, engrossed in a book. Kris paused, unsure of how to proceed. He glanced at his brother, who looked up from his book, meeting Kris's gaze with a glare. "What?" Kyle snapped, his tone defensive. Kris hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He felt a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and a lingering sense of satisfaction at Kyle's predicament. He knew he should probably let it go, but the resentment he felt towards his brother was hard to shake. "Nothing," Kris muttered, avoiding Kyle's gaze as he changed into his pajamas. Kyle watched him, his expression unreadable. Kris could sense the tension between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air. He knew he probably shouldn't say anything but was so tempted to. Kris cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "So, uh, how well does the pull-up fit?" he asked, his tone casual but with an underlying tension, wanting to confirm his brother was actually wearing it. Kyle stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "What do you care?" he retorted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "I was just wondering," Kris replied, trying to keep his tone light. "I mean, it must be pretty uncomfortable, right?" Kyle's voice followed as Kris climbed up the ladder to his bunk bed. "You know, it's a little small. Must be because of all the extra padding they had to use for babies like you." Kris gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on the rungs of the ladder. "Shut up! It's not funny. If anything, it's because of your fat butt." Kyle's laughter echoed in the room. "You're such a baby. Always crying about everything." Frustration bubbled up inside Kris. "At least I don't tattle to Mom and Dad every time you do something wrong, like you do!" Kyle's face darkened, and for a moment, Kris thought he had gone too far. But then Kyle smirked. "Yeah, but at least I don't wet the bed like a toddler." Kris tried to think of a rebuttal, but Kyle wasn't finished. "I can't believe I have to share a room with a baby," he muttered. Kris took a deep breath, trying to control his rising anger. "At least I'm not a slob, like you." he shot back, unable to resist the jab. Kyle fell silent momentarily, and Kris thought he had finally gotten through to him. But then Kyle's voice came again, softer this time. "I'm sorry," he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. "I shouldn't have picked on you as much as I have been." Kris was taken aback by the apology. He hadn't expected it, especially not from Kyle. "It's okay," he replied after a moment, his anger dissipating. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have called you fat or a slob." They lay in silence for a few moments, their tension easing. Finally, Kyle spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," Kris replied, feeling a sense of peace settle over him as he hopped things changed for the better. As Kris lay in his bed on the top bunk, the events of the day played over and over in his mind like a relentless loop. He couldn't shake off the tension that had built up between him and Kyle, even after their brief truce. The next few nights were just as difficult for Kris. Sure, he managed to get away from anyone teasing him during the day. But his mind was reeling, tumbling with questions that only added to frustration after frustration. How long would that last? Why hadn't Tammi tried to pick on him? Was it because Kyle got in trouble? Did she even know about that? Would Kyle keep his word and lay off the teasing, or was this just a temporary ceasefire before the next round of mockery? And what about Dad's threat to diaper anyone who made fun of Kris? Would he follow through past the one instance with Kyle, or was it just an empty promise meant to scare them into behaving? Unable to sleep, Kris tossed and turned in his bed, night after night, his mind consumed with thoughts of how unfair everything seemed. He couldn't shake off the feeling of injustice within him. Why was he always the one who got called out in front of everyone? Why is it that when Kyle was called out, it was to the side where no one could hear? His sisters probably didn't even know Kyle was in a diaper! Why couldn't Kris have his clothes and the dignity to pick his own outfits? Instead, his parents stowed them away and chose for him. Deciding what he would wear, and when he could get changed. They wouldn't even extend enough trust to let him get changed in his own room, or the shared bathroom, making him use their master bathroom each time. Waiting, on the other side of the door to ensure he was listening to them. Just another nail in the coffin of his dependence on them. He thought back to how his parents had handled the situation with Kyle the night he was diapered. Replaying the events in his head multiple times. They had pulled Kyle aside after he broke their rule about teasing Kris. Kris couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He didn't even know Kyle was getting diapered that night until he followed him to his parent's bedroom and got handed a pull-up. Why didn't he get the same level of consideration and trust from his parents? Why did Kyle seem to get special treatment? Kris's frustration grew as he dwelled on these thoughts. He resented asking for new pants and underwear every day, knowing none of his other siblings would have to deal with the same humiliation. He hated having to sit in his wet diaper first thing in the morning, feeling the discomfort and shame gnawing at him, just waiting for his parents to finally give him the dignity he deserved. Kris felt his spirit deflate as he woke up each morning in a wet pull-up. The discomfort and shame gnawed at him, a continual reminder of his situation. He couldn't help but think back to the one morning he woke up and found his pull-up had leaked. The embarrassment and humiliation flooded back as he recalled the wet sheets and the disappointed look on his mother's face. He wanted so badly to hide it from everyone, but in the end, he knew he stood no chance with all his clothes downstairs in his parent's room. He felt like he was failing. His parents tried to be understanding, but Kris could see the disappointment in their eyes. He knew they were trying to help him, but their attempts only made him feel more inadequate. He resented relying on them for everything, from changing in the morning to choosing his clothes for the day. He longed for the independence he once had, the freedom to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule. Amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, a glimmer of hope flickered to life. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better. Maybe Kyle would keep his word, Dad would enforce his ultimatum, and Kris could finally find indifference to his situation. However, nothing over these last several days had pushed anyone to the point of needing to be punished with his dad's threat. As the days dragged on, Kris knew the likelihood of his dad keeping with what he said and punishing those who teased him grew less and less likely. Chapter 12: Packing List Two weeks had passed since the incident that changed everything for Kris. In that time, he had grown accustomed to his nightly routine of wearing diapers to bed, though the discomfort and embarrassment still lingered. Waking up in a wet pull-up every morning made him feel so small. It was as if he was a toddler who couldn't control themselves. Needing to wait until after breakfast before he could get changed only added to his humiliation. What was the point in that anyway? At least the one morning when his pull-up had leaked, and he had to come down in wet pants, he could change before they ate breakfast. All of that was behind him now. Now they were packing for Disney World! There was nothing that could ruin it for him. Except, as Kris stood before his dresser, sorting through his clothes for the trip, Kris couldn't help but feel belittled yet again that he needed to ask for his clothes so he could make sure they were packed. As Kris approaches his parents to ask for his clothes, he feels a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. Hesitating at their bedroom doorway, trying to summon the courage to speak up. Finally, he clears his throat and steps forward. "Mom, Dad," Kris begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "Um, can I have my clothes back? I need to pack for the trip." Kim looks up from where she's folding laundry, her expression softening at the sight of her son. "Of course, sweetheart," she says gently. "They're in the closet. Grab whatever you need." Kris nods, relief flooding through him as he heads toward the closet. But just as he reaches for his clothes, Kevin interjects, his tone tinged with frustration. "Before you pack, I want you to take this," Kevin says, holding out a pack of pull-ups. "You need to bring these with you." Kris's heart sinks as he takes the pack from his dad. He had hoped to avoid this situation. "Do I have to?" Kris asks, trying to keep his voice steady. Kevin sighs, his frustration evident. "You know you do. We can't risk any accidents during the trip. Just take them and pack them in your suitcase." Feeling defeated, Kris takes the pack of pull-ups and his clothes back to his room to pack. He's grateful his parents are trusting him for a change to do something on his own, like packing for the trip. If someone else were doing it, he would be mortified to see what was packed once they arrived. But at least this way, he knows he'll have clothes he likes and actual underwear to wear during the day. As he re-enters the room, Kyle notices the pack of pull-ups in Kris's hand. "What's that?" Kyle asks, a smirk forming on his face. "Are those diapers for the baby?" Kris feels his face flush with embarrassment as he sets the package on his bed. "No, they're pull-ups, and they're for me," he mumbles while avoiding Kyle's gaze. "For you?" Kyle laughs, his voice dripping with mockery. "You're going to wear diapers to Disney World? That's so lame!" "It's not like I want to wear them!" Kris retorts, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I have to wear them because of you!" "Because of me?" Kyle scoffs. "How is this my fault?" "If you hadn't told Dad about my accident, I wouldn't need these pull-up!" Kris snaps, his anger flaring. Kyle's smirk fades, replaced by a look of guilt. "I didn't think you'd end up in diapers," he says quietly. "Well, I did," Kris replies, tears filling his eyes. "And it's not fair!" "Hey, the good news is you should fly for free now, being a baby, after all." Kyle's attempt at humor fell flat as Kris's expression hardened. Kyle's attempt at humor cuts deep, his words twisting the knife of Kris's raw emotions. Feeling a surge of anger and hurt, his words began tumbling out before he could stop them. "You're just jealous because you don't get the attention anymore! You're nothing but a stupid, selfish bully!" Kyle's face contorts with shock and anger. "I'm the bully?" he shouts, hurt evident in his voice. "You're the one who's always crying and making everything about you! You're such a baby!" Kris's hand trembles with anger as he balls it into a fist. Mad that his brother kept calling him a baby. Figures Kris was right to suspect that his brother wouldn't keep his word. Without thinking, he swings, connecting with his brother's arm. Kyle winces, more from surprise than pain, as his words echo in the tense silence. "I'm not a baby!" Kris shouts, tears streaking down his cheeks. "I hate you!" Without another word, Kris turned and stormed out of their room. Stunned by his brother's actions, Kyle lets what just occurred sink in, and shock quickly turns to anger. "How dare he hit him!? How could he even begin to blame him for the predicament he's in? He is acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum! I bet he is going to go tattle on me, to try and get me in a stupid diaper again! I'll show him! If he wants to get me to wear a diaper, I'll make him wear them the whole trip. Show him who the baby really is!" Kyle thinks to himself. Fueled by anger, Kyle storms over to his brother's suitcase and unzips it. Without hesitation, he removes all of Kris's underwear. Tucking them under the bottom drawer of their dresser, knowing full well no one would find them until returning from Disney World. In his mind, Kris deserves this. He deserves to be treated like a baby since he can't act any better than a dramatic toddler. Kyle's anger simmers as he carries out his plan with cold determination. He takes Kris's suitcase downstairs, carefully concealing his actions from the rest of the family. With a sense of vindication, he hands the suitcase to his dad, who loads it into the car without suspecting a thing. Meanwhile, Instead of tattling on his brother, Kris opted to sit in the car playing on his handheld gaming console. He feared retaliation from his brother and getting tattled on himself for hitting his brother. Which he knew his parents found unacceptable, no matter what the reason was. Wanting to drown out the world, Kris sat there with his headphones firmly in place, attempting to block out the family, not wanting to get teased by anyone else or cause any more arguments. He was completely unaware of Kyle's schemes, forgetting about his suitcase entirely. Kim notices Kris is in the car, absorbed in his handheld, and taps on the window to get his attention. Kris, startled, looks up and removes his headphones. "Hey, bud," Kim says gently, "are you wearing a diaper?" Kris's cheeks flush crimson, embarrassment overwhelming him at his mom's question. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding her gaze. "Um, no," he mumbles, his voice barely audible. Kim nods understandingly. "I think putting one on for the flight would be a good idea. It's going to be long, and you might fall asleep. We don't want any accidents, do we?" Kris shakes his head, his embarrassment deepening. "No, we don't," he replies, sounding slightly defeated, as his self-esteem deflates slightly. Kris's cheeks burn with embarrassment as he shifts in his seat, avoiding his mom's gaze. "But, Mom," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, "I don't want to wear a pull-up on the plane. Can't I just use the bathroom before we board?" Kim's expression softens as she gently squeezes Kris's hand. "I know this is hard for you, honey," she says softly, "but it's just for the flight. We don't want any accidents to happen, especially so high up in the air. Where you can't get to a clean pair of clothes, no less. Please, for me?" "I...I already packed the pull-ups," Kris says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're in my suitcase. I think I may have left it in my room." He glances back toward the trunk of the car, where their suitcases are neatly packed away. To his surprise, he sees his own suitcase already nestled among the others, the zipper securely closed. "Actually," Kris says, his brow furrowing in confusion, "my suitcase is already in the car." Kim nods, her expression sympathetic. "I understand. That was a new pack, we still have an open one in our room." Offering him a reassuring smile before motioning for him to follow her. "Come on, let's go get one for you." Kris nods, his heart heavy with embarrassment and frustration. He reluctantly follows his mom back into the house, wishing he didn't need to wear it. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to protest further, to run back to the car and ignore his mother's pleas, but there was nothing he could do. No one at this point would side with him, not with as many accidents he has had. Even a short nap wasn't safe from wetting himself. As they entered his parent's room, Kris couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the sight of the open package of diapers sitting on top of their dresser. He hates the reminder of his vulnerability, the constant need for protection from something as basic as using the bathroom on time. Kim reaches for a diaper, her touch gentle as she holds it out to Kris. "Here you go, sweetheart," she says softly. "I know it's not easy, but it's just for the flight." Kris takes the pull-up from his mom, his fingers trembling slightly as he holds it. With a heavy sigh, he heads toward the master bathroom, his heart sinking with each step. He hates this feeling of helplessness and inability to control his body. Entering the bathroom, Kris closes the door, shutting out the world outside. He stands in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with resignation and frustration. With shaky hands, he begins to undress, peeling off his pants and underwear. He hesitates as he reaches for the pull-up, his fingers hovering over the soft material. He didn't want to wear this on the plane. But what choice does he have? He can't risk having an accident on the plane, and he can't risk further embarrassment in front of his family, let alone strangers! With a heavy heart, Kris finally gathers the courage to put on the pull-up, sliding it up his legs and securing it in place. The familiar feeling of shame washes over him as he adjusts the pull-up, the crinkling sound echoing loudly in the silence of the bathroom. Once the pull-up is on, Kris takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what lies ahead. He knows this won't be easy, knows he'll have to face the mocking stares and whispered taunts of his siblings on the plane. But he also knows he has to do this. With one last glance in the mirror, Kris pulls back up his pants, opens the bathroom door, and steps out to meet his mom. As Kris exits the master bathroom, Kim notices the slight outline around his waistline, indicating the diaper underneath his pants. Concern etches across her face, but she approaches the situation delicately. "Kris, sweetie, are you wearing the diaper?" Kim asks gently, her voice laced with empathy. Kris's cheeks flush with embarrassment as he nods sheepishly, unable to meet his mother's gaze. He feels humiliated at the thought of his mom asking, as if she did not believe he would put it on. "Um, yeah," he mumbles, his voice barely audible. Kim's heart aches for her son, seeing the turmoil he's going through. Wanting to help ease his discomfort, she gestures for him to come closer. With a reassuring smile, she kneels down in front of him, her hands instinctively reaching for the waistband of his pants. "Let me adjust your pants a bit, sweetie," Kim says softly, her touch gentle as she tries to conceal the outline of the diaper discreetly. Kris feels a mixture of mortification and gratitude as his mom tries to help him, not realizing her actions only intensify his embarrassment. He stands frozen, his cheeks burning with shame as he watches his mom's futile attempts to hide the pull-up. Despite Kim's efforts, the diaper remains noticeable beneath Kris's pants, a constant reminder of his vulnerability. Kris's stomach churns with unease, wishing he could disappear into thin air and escape. Sensing Kris's discomfort, she offers him a gentle smile. "There, that's better," she says reassuringly, though she knows it's not. Kris forces a weak smile, his heart heavy with humiliation. "Thanks, Mom," he murmurs, his voice tinged with resignation and defeat. Kim rises to her feet, her heart heavy with worry for her son. She wishes she could take away his pain and make everything better, but she knows it's not that simple. All she can do is offer him love and support as he navigates this challenging journey. With a gentle pat on Kris's shoulder, Kim leads him out of the bedroom and back toward the car, determined to make the best of their Disney World trip despite his problem. As Kris and his mom walk out to the car, Kris can't help but notice the crinkling sound with each step. He can sense his siblings' eyes on him, their silent judgment hanging heavy in the air. Kris's face burns with embarrassment as he climbs into his booster seat, the outline of his pull-up visible through his pants. Without a word, everyone else piles into the car. As the car pulls from the driveway, Kris tries to focus on the passing scenery, but his mind is consumed with thoughts of his pull-up and what his siblings must be thinking. He can't shake the feeling of shame that continues to wash over him, battering him like the constant waves on the shore, a continuous reminder of his bedwetting problems. In the front seat, Kim glances back at Kris, her heart breaking at seeing her son's distress. Feeling his isolation and exposure, his secret now on display for everyone to see. The car ride is tense, the atmosphere thick with unspoken drama. Kris's siblings exchange knowing glances, their eyes lingering on Kris with amusement. Kris tried to shrink into his seat, wishing he could disappear, hoping no one else would bring attention to his problem. Finally, they arrive at the airport, and Kris's anxiety reaches a peak. He knows he'll have to pass through security, where his pull-up may likely be detected by the scanners. The thought fills him with dread, and he can feel the panic rising. Chapter 13: First Flight Kris's excitement for the upcoming trip to Disney World was evident as he stood in line with his family at the airport check-in counter. The vibrant colors of the terminal buzzed around him, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to contain his anticipation. Today was the day they were finally going on their adventure. His parents stood in front of him, their voices filled with cheerful chatter as they conversed with the airline attendant. Behind them, Tammi and Sam whispered excitedly to each other, their eyes wide with wonder at the prospect of meeting their favorite characters. But amid the hustle and bustle of the airport, Kris couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't just the nerves of flying for the first time or the thrill of visiting the happiest place on earth that made him fidgety. No, it was something else entirely. As his parents handed over their suitcases to be checked in, Kris glanced around anxiously, searching for something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then it hit him. He needs to go through security. While his parents handed over their suitcases, Kris couldn't help but notice the security checkpoint nearby. People were going through the scanner, and some were being moved to the side for a pat-down. A shiver ran down Kris's spine as he imagined himself in that position, worried that they might notice his diaper. He glanced around anxiously, hoping no one would pay attention to him. His heart raced as he tried to keep calm, but the fear of being embarrassed in front of so many people gnawed at him. 'Kris, is everything okay?' his mother's voice brought him back to reality. 'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,' Kris replied quickly, forcing a smile. As they approached the security checkpoint, Kris's heart pounded like a drum in his chest, each beat echoing louder in his ears. He watched his family members pass through the scanner ahead of him, each seemingly carefree and unaware of the storm raging within him. Relief floods through Kris when he realizes they don't have any carry-on bags to be inspected—no diapers to be revealed. Still, the fear of getting caught wearing a diaper lingers in the back of his mind. As they inch closer to the security scanner, Kris's palms grow clammy, and he swallows hard, trying to quell the rising panic. His eyes dart around nervously, half-expecting someone to notice the telltale bulkiness of his diaper beneath his clothes. Finally, it was his turn. Kris stepped forward, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him, and he raised his trembling hands above his head as instructed. The scanner beeped, and his heart skipped a beat. A security officer motioned for him to step aside for further screening, and Kris's stomach churned with dread. Kris followed the officer to the side, feeling like all eyes were on him. His cheeks burned with humiliation as he realized what was happening. The security officer began a gentle but thorough pat-down, his gloved hands brushing against Kris's diaper with a feather-light touch. Kris closed his eyes, trying to block out the sensation of exposure and vulnerability. He wished he could disappear, vanish into thin air, and escape this moment of mortification. The TSA agent's soothing voice offered little comfort as he explained each step of the procedure, but Kris was too embarrassed to truly listen. Through half-closed eyes, Kris stole a glance at his family. They stood on the other side of the security checkpoint, waiting patiently, or so it seemed. He could see the subtle curve of his sibling's lips that barely contained laughter dancing in their eyes. They were snickering! The realization hit Kris like a sledgehammer to the gut. They knew. They all knew about his diaper, about his shameful secret. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, and he fought back the sting of tears threatening to spill. The TSA agent's voice broke through Kris's thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "All set, buddy. You did great," the agent said with a reassuring smile. Kris blinked, surprised by the agent's kind words. He glanced at his family, expecting to see mocking smiles or looks of pity, but instead, he saw genuine smiles of encouragement. Even Kyle's usual smirk was replaced by a nod of approval. Finally, the pat-down was over, and Kris could rejoin his family. Feeling relief, Kris managed a weak smile and thanked the TSA agent before hurrying to catch up with his family. As he joined them, his mother enveloped him in a warm hug. 'You did amazing,' she whispered, squeezing him tight. He was still embarrassed that he had to go through that but grateful he didn't get exposed in such a public place. Astonishment hit Kris as they gathered their things and walked to their gate. No one said a word about the incident. His parents were encouraging, Acting like it was no big deal. Even his siblings, who had been giggling just moments before, now wore masks of innocence, their laughter silenced. Kris couldn't understand it. How could they know and yet say nothing? Were they playing some cruel joke on him, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce? Or were they simply too wrapped up in their own excitement for the trip to notice? As the family made their way to the gate, Kris couldn't shake the unease lingering from the security checkpoint. His bladder felt slightly full, but he resisted the urge to use the airport restroom until they got where they needed to go. Since an unpleasant encounter in a public bathroom when he was younger, Kris avoided using them whenever possible. He preferred to wait until he got home or to a familiar place where he felt more comfortable. However, as they reached their gate, Kris realized he couldn't hold it for the whole flight. He tugged at his dad's sleeve, trying to get his attention. "Dad, I need to use the restroom," Kris whispered, hoping his family wouldn't overhear. Kevin glanced down at him. "Sure. Let's go." Kris followed his dad to the nearest restroom, his heart pounding with anxiety. The memories of past taunts and jeers echoed in his mind, making him hesitant to enter. But he knew he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, Kris entered the restroom, his dad waiting just outside. He quickly found an empty stall and locked the door, grateful for its privacy. As he relieved himself, he tried to push aside the memories and focus on the present. As he finished and stepped out of the stall, he noticed a line of guys waiting for their turn. Kris felt a pang of embarrassment, realizing he had taken up a stall when others were waiting. He hurried over to the sink, avoiding eye contact with anyone in line. As Kris hurriedly washed his hands at the sink, trying to avoid eye contact with the line of guys waiting for stalls, he felt the weight of anxiety pressing down on him like a lead blanket. His heart raced as he fumbled with the soap dispenser, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Out of the corner of his eye, Kris caught a glimpse of movement and glanced up at the mirror. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a boy in line, about the same age as Kyle, pointing in his direction, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Panic surged through Kris like an electric shock, sending shivers down his spine. He quickly averted his gaze, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he realized his pull-up was visible to everyone behind him. How could he have been so careless? Frantically, Kris tugged at the hem of his shirt, getting it wet from the hands he was washing, trying to cover up the telltale bulge of his diaper. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and he could feel the weight of their stares bearing down on him like a heavy burden. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Kris's hands trembled as he reached for a paper towel to dry them. Each movement felt like an eternity; his senses heightened and on edge. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, scrutinized for his perceived weakness and shame. As he finally finished drying his hands, Kris dared to steal another glance at the mirror. The boy in line was still staring at him, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Kris's stomach churned with a mixture of humiliation and resentment. As Kris rushed out of the bathroom, his heart still pounding with embarrassment, he found his dad waiting for him just outside, a reassuring smile on his face. "Good, bud?" his dad asks, concern evident in his tone. Kris nods quickly, forcing a smile to mask his discomfort. "Yeah, I'm good," he mumbles, avoiding his dad's gaze. Together, they return to the gate where the rest of the family awaits. Kris sits next to Tammi, his fingers tapping nervously on the armrest as he tries to distract himself from the lingering embarrassment. Pulling out his handheld console, Kris immerses himself in the digital world, his mind seeking solace in the familiar sights and sounds of his favorite game. But even as he loses himself in the virtual adventure, he can't shake the memory of the boy in the restroom; the mocking smirk etched in his mind like a scar. Minutes pass in a blur as Kris tries to lose himself in the game, but a sudden screech of laughter catches his attention. He looks up to see the same boy from the restroom sitting just a few seats away with his family. The boy is engaged in animated conversation with his siblings, his laughter ringing out loud and clear in the bustling terminal. Each of them looks shocked and amused, their eyes darting from their brother to Kris and back with barely concealed amusement but concern from getting caught looking at him. Panic grips Kris's chest as he assumes the worst, his mind racing with thoughts of ridicule and mockery. But before he can dwell on it any further, an announcement blares over the PA system, signaling that it's time to board the plane. As Kris and his family line up to board the plane, his heart sinks a little as he sees the other boy and his family getting up to board the same plane. He tries to keep his head down, hoping to avoid further embarrassment. As they make their way down the narrow aisle of the plane, he can't help but feel self-conscious, hoping no one else will notice his diaper. He quickly finds his seat and settles in, trying to focus on the excitement of the trip rather than his embarrassment. He watches out of the corner of his eye as the other family passes by; the boy seems oblivious to him, then suddenly does a double take, shooting him a smirk as he passes. Kris felt a knot form in his stomach, but he brushed it off. He knows he can't let this random boy's thoughts ruin his trip. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and tries to relax as the plane prepares for takeoff. Chapter 14: Trouble at 30k Feet The steady hum of the airplane engines filled the cabin as Kris settled into his seat, trying to push aside the lingering embarrassment from the restroom incident. He glanced out of the window from his middle seat, watching as the ground gradually fell away beneath them, feeling the G-forces for the first time, noting the weird sensations across his body. As the plane rose higher and higher, he could feel the air shift and the odd sensations easing up as the vast expanse of the blue sky came into sight. Beside him, in the aisle seat, his mother sat, her comforting presence a soothing calm to his nerves. She smiled reassuringly at him, her eyes filled with warmth. Kris couldn't help but feel grateful for her support, even if she was the one who suggested he wear a diaper while on the flight. He could feel the plane leveling out a few minutes in as they reached cruising altitude. The seat belt sign came off, notifying passengers that they were free to move about. Bored, Kris pulled out his handheld to help pass the time, and Kyle, who sat to his right with the window seat, did the same. After an hour or two of flying, Kris started to feel thirsty. He turned to his mom and asked, "Mom, do we have anything to drink?" Kim glanced at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, bud, we didn't bring any drinks with us. But I think the flight attendants will be coming around soon with beverages. You can ask them for something to drink." Sure enough, the flight attendants began their rounds a few moments later, pushing their carts down the narrow aisle. Kris waited patiently for them to reach his row, feeling excited. When the cart finally arrived, a flight attendant looked over to their row, her smile bright and welcoming. 'Would you like something to drink?' she asked, cheerful. Kris nodded eagerly. "Can I have an apple juice, please?" Kim signaled to the flight attendant, who nodded and reached for a chilled bottle of apple juice from the cart. She poured a generous amount into a plastic cup before handing it to Kris with a warm smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy," she said kindly before moving on to the next row of seats. Kris accepted the cup gratefully, taking a sip of the cool, refreshing liquid. As he sipped on the refreshing drink, Kris tried to focus on the excitement of the trip and push aside the embarrassment of wearing a diaper. He glanced out of the window again, over Kyle's console, marveling at the vastness of the sky and the beauty of the world below. Despite everything, he was determined to make the most of this experience and enjoy every moment of their family vacation. Kris continued to sip his apple juice and play his game. He gradually lost track of time, engrossed in the digital world unfolding on the screen in front of him. An hour passed in a blur of animated characters and bright colors, the steady drone of the airplane engines fading into the background. But as another hour ticked by, Kris felt pressure starting to build up in his lower abdomen. It was a familiar feeling he had experienced many times before—a sign that he needed to use the restroom. Kris took another sip of his apple juice, trying to distract himself from the growing discomfort in his abdomen. He glanced at his mom, who was engrossed in a magazine and hesitated before speaking up. "Mom, how much longer until we land?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Kim glanced at her watch before looking back at Kris. "About an hour and a half, honey. Why? Do you need to use the restroom?" Kris felt a wave of panic wash over him. He knew he should probably use the restroom, but the thought of walking down the narrow aisle in his diaper filled him with dread. He shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, I'm okay. I can wait." Kim raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue. "Alright, just let me know if you change your mind." Kris nodded, turning his attention back to his handheld. He tried to focus on the game he was playing, but the pressure in his abdomen was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was useless. Kris's discomfort grew as the minutes ticked by, but he was determined not to use the restroom. He glanced at his siblings, who were all engrossed in their own activities, unaware of his predicament. He felt a pang of envy, wishing he could be carefree like them. As the captain's voice crackled over the intercom, announcing they would begin their descent shortly, Kris felt relief, knowing they would be landing soon. He glanced out of the window, noticing the change in altitude as the plane started its gradual descent. But as the plane descended, Kris felt the pressure in his abdomen intensify. He tried to ignore it, focusing on the game in his hands, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. As the pressure in his abdomen continued to mount, Kris's anxiety heightened. He clenched his teeth, determined to hold on until they landed. But with each passing minute, the discomfort grew more unbearable. He shifted in his seat, trying to alleviate the pressure, but it only seemed to worsen. "M-Mom," Kris stammered, his voice shaky with desperation. "H-How long until we land?" Kim glanced at him, concern etching her features as she noticed his distress. "Not long, honey. Just a few more minutes." "C-Can I please get up to use the restroom now?" Kris stammered, his voice shaky with urgency. Kim looked at him, concern deepening as she observed his distress. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey," she said gently. "But the seatbelt sign is on now, and we're beginning our descent. You'll have to wait until we land." Kris's heart sank at her words, a sinking feeling of dread settling in his stomach. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the rising panic threatening to overwhelm him. With each passing moment, the pressure in his abdomen grew more unbearable. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold on a little longer. He tried to distract himself, looking out the window at the passing clouds, but the discomfort was overwhelming. He shifted in his seat again, feeling the pressure in his abdomen reaching a critical point. Panic surged through him as he realized he might not be able to hold on much longer. Desperate, Kris tried to push up on his seat with his hands, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. But just as he did, he heard a loud, unmistakable sound—a sound that made his heart sink, and his cheeks burn with shame. Squelch... pfft... plop Kris's eyes widened in horror as he felt a heavy weight pushing down in his diaper, warmth spreading rapidly. He froze, unable to comprehend how he had let this happen. Beside him, Kyle looked up from his game, his eyes widening in shock as he realized what had occurred. He turned to Kim, his voice filled with disbelief. "Mom did Kris just..." Kim's eyes widened as she turned to Kris, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Kris, did you...?" Kris shook his head, his face burning with embarrassment. "I-I don't know what happened," he mumbled, unable to meet his mother's gaze. "I-I didn't mean to..." Kim's expression softened as she reached out to comfort him, but Kris pulled away, mortified by what had just transpired. He sat back in his seat, feeling the mess squish against him, the smell wafting up to his nose. He wanted to disappear, to escape this humiliating moment, but he was trapped, unable to leave his seat due to the seat belt sign. Tears welled up in Kris's eyes as he realized the extent of his embarrassment. He had just pooped his diaper on a crowded airplane in front of his entire family and several strangers. He felt shame unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he knew that this moment would haunt him forever. As the plane continued its descent, the smell of Kris's accident began circulating in the cabin. Kris felt his face burn with shame as he realized everyone could smell what had happened. He hunched over in his seat, trying to make himself smaller, wishing he could disappear. Every movement sent shivers down his spine as the mess squished and oozed under him. A few rows back, Kris heard a familiar voice—the boy from the restroom, the one who had seen his diaper. "I bet it's the diaper boy from the bathroom who pooped," the voice spoke loud enough for Kris to hear. He felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over him, knowing that the boy was talking about him. Around him, Kris could hear murmurs and complaints from other passengers. Some were complaining about the smell, wrinkling their noses in disgust. "What's that smell?" one person complained. "It's disgusting," another voice chimed in. "Why do we always have to sit near a baby who poops?" someone else grumbled. Kris's cheeks burned with shame as he listened to the complaints. He wanted to sink into his seat and disappear, to escape the judging gazes and the whispers. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Beside him, Kyle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and sympathy. Kim leaned closer to Kris, speaking in a soft, soothing voice. "It's okay," she said gently. "Accidents happen, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll be landing soon, and then we can get you cleaned up, alright?" forgetting that she had no way of doing so. Kris nodded, grateful for his mom. He knew she was trying to make him feel better, but the shame and embarrassment lingered. He closed his eyes, waiting for the minutes to pass so he could escape this humiliating ordeal. As the plane finally touched down and taxied to the gate, Kris felt a sense of relief wash over him. He couldn't wait to get off the plane and away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers. As soon as the seatbelt sign turned off, Kris unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, eager to escape. As Kris stood up from his seat, the urge to pee hit him with a vengeance. His bladder felt like it was about to burst, and he knew he couldn't hold it any longer. He glanced around frantically, panic rising within him as he realized the humiliating situation he was in. With a deep sense of shame already engulfing him from his recent accident, Kris made a split-second decision. He knew he was already in a dirty diaper, and with the passengers beginning to gather their belongings and make their way off the plane, he felt what's the difference at this point if he used the bathroom or his already soiled pull-up. At that moment, Kris decided to let go, allowing himself to release the pent-up urine into his already soiled diaper. He felt a rush of warmth spreading throughout the diaper as it became increasingly heavy and sagged noticeably. The feeling was both comfortable and mortifying, but Kris couldn't bring himself to care anymore in his overwhelmed state. As Kim gathered her belongings and prepared to exit the plane, Kris couldn't help but notice the stares from several passengers. Some looked disgusted, their noses wrinkling in distaste at the smell emanating from his soiled diaper. A few teenage girls giggled behind their hands, casting mocking glances in his direction, while a group of boys burst out into laughter, their eyes alight with amusement. The boy from the restroom, the one who had seen Kris's diaper earlier, stared at him with a knowing look, nudging his family members as if to say, "I told you so." Kris felt a surge of humiliation wash over him, his cheeks burning with shame as he realized just how visible his predicament was to everyone around him. As Kris waddled off the plane, his diaper heavy and sagging, he felt the weight of his humiliation pressing down on him with each step. His siblings glanced at him, some with pity, others with amusement, but none dared to speak up as they followed their parents through the crowded airport terminal. Kris couldn't bear the stares from the other travelers, their judgmental eyes boring into him like daggers. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he shuffled along, feeling every squish and squelch of his soaked diaper. "Mom," Kris whispered, tugging at Kim's sleeve as they reached the gate. "Can we please go get cleaned up?" Kim's heart sank as she looked down at her son, his face flushed with shame. She glanced around frantically, realizing they didn't have any spare clothes or diapers with them. They hadn't brought carry-ons, and their luggage was being forwarded to the hotel. "Oh, Kris," Kim murmured, her voice filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. We don't have anything with us right now." Kris's eyes widened in dismay, his heart sinking even further as the reality of their situation sank in. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly humiliated, standing there in the middle of the bustling airport terminal with his dirty diaper on display for everyone to see.

Here is the first chapter of my brand new Diaper Dimension/LittleFallenVerse ABDL story - Little in Love 2! The sequel you've all be looking forward to, and also my tenth story! Following on from the events of Little in Love 2 and Love in Dimensions, this story follows our adorable couple, Olivia and Charlotte, as they face the difficulties of Liv being in the public eye whilst she runs for a seat in the next election. Expect lots of fun, lots of cute moments, lots of mean cliffhangers, and lots of familiar faces. Its just more of the first story, and I hope you enjoy it! It will be shorter than Little in Love 1, at around my usual story length (40ish chapters), but it'll still be just as exciting (hopefully!). Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Due to the issues surrounding Patreon and our community, I will no longer be posting early access chapters to my Patreon. It is currently paused with no-one being billed, and I am currently in the process of finding a new home for my stories. I'll also be working on new tiers and pricing more so there may be other benefits for supporting my writing. I'll keep people updated once I've made some progress. Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others! Chapter 1: Run, Liv, Run! Little in Love 2 – LittleFallenPrincess I dropped my bag as I ran for my life. Sure, it contained my whole life. My ID, my purse, my keys, my stuffies, everything except my phone; which I had given to my wife. But I was not going to allow myself to be caught. Not today. Not ever. I know what these people do to people like me. And I was not going to allow that to happen to me. I would rather be dead. I ran as hard as I could through the dimly lit corridor, pushing my still slightly unfit 5’10 body to its limits. Turns out those limits are pretty low when you don’t exercise or eat healthily, which is a bad excuse considering how much Charlie tries to improve my diet. But I pushed them regardless. Every time I felt like I was about to break apart, my body just kept going. A small part of my brain knew I was going to ache for days after this, but that part had been swallowed whole by the one simple thought running through my brain: run. They wanted me. I was the prey, they were the predator. I could hear them shouting behind me. They had the speed advantage on me, there was no way I could outrun their legs. However, I did have the element of surprise, the head start, the ability to get through small gaps, and a nice mix of adrenaline and fear. And I would take any advantage I could get. I managed to sprint down the corridor, jumping over boxes, avoiding a group of people who all turned their heads towards me. If I had gone near them they may have grabbed me and handed me over… it’s just that kind of world. I squeezed through some boxes, scraping my arm against a door handle, and eyeing an opening under a table. That was my chance. I needed to make it under there, somewhere they couldn’t follow, somewhere I could slip away and hide. Looking behind me, the group I just avoided had started making their way towards me with my pursuers not too far behind them, their eyes all locked on mine. Those cold, cruel eyes. The ones you’d see on a villain in a children’s movie. The little voice inside me was screaming for me to run, but seeing those eyes... I froze. I was done for. My body wouldn’t obey me. I couldn’t move. No matter how much I screamed at my body. Seeing those eyes and all the fears of what would happen if she caught up to me... My life was over. …And that’s when Zoey tackled me to the ground, pinning me down and beginning tickling me relentlessly as the others gathered around and grabbed my limbs so I couldn’t escape their organised tickle attack. “AHHHHH! NO FAIR!” I screamed out loud, laughing uncontrollably as they all laughed at me and teased me, my ashen hair flailing about in frustration. “Oh very fair, Miss ‘I’m totally a big girl, not like you babies’. Your britches too big for your nappies? Think you could get away from us just because we’re wearing thicker nappies than you? Just wait until your Mummy catches up… you’re gonna be so blushy when your nappy is even thicker than ours!” Zoey teased. “Come on girls… let my baby catch her breath…” ‘My saviour… my knight in… a cosy… knitted jumper.’ I thought to myself, looking up at the beautiful face that I still made me feel butterflies in my tummy whenever I stared into her mesmerising eyes. Zoey stopped tickling me at Charlie’s request, but didn’t bother getting up off my stomach. Instead she just sat there, her thickly padded ass pinning me to the ground, making me unable to move or fight back. At least I could catch my breath now. “You okay, babygirl?” Charlie asked, smiling down at me with her gorgeous smile. And yes, beautiful, mesmerising, gorgeous… I’m very gay for this girl. I mean I married her, so yeah… “Uh… huh…” I replied, breathing heavily. “Good. Zoey, can you get off my baby so I can get her appropriately dressed?” “Can I help pick out her outfit?” Zoey replied, not moving an inch. Charlie took one look at me before grinning and turning to Zoey again. “Sure.” “No fair!” I cried out. “Girls… if you’ll excuse me. Zoey, you come with. Hold my other hand, okay?” Charlie said, holding both her hands out. Zoey grabbed one and Charlie used the other to reach down and grab mine, pulling me up onto my feet with no issue whatsoever. Benefits of having an Amazon for a wife, I suppose. Being married to someone who can single handedly lift me up and is twelve feet tall definitely has its advantages. “Pick something super blushy for her, okay?” Sarah said to her girlfriend, grabbing Alice’s hand and skipping off to the playroom. Zoey replied by winking at her, before turning to grin at me. ‘I’m going to regret teasing them…’ And so that’s how I ended up in the poofiest, frilliest pink dress with a crawler nappy of all things. I couldn’t even stand in it! I mean… I guess that’s implied in the name, it forces you to crawl. Instead I just sat in Charlie’s arms, my very thickly padded ass on full display to everyone behind me as she carried me into the playroom, Zoey giggling the whole way. It was nice to have these get togethers now and again, especially with everything that’s been going on. I still can’t believe it's only been like a couple of years, so much has happened. I got married to an Amazon, I joined a political party as a candidate for parliament, my whole relationship… at least a lot of it… got put out there into the public eye in Charlie’s book, and then don’t get me started on the adventure with Rose and the others. After learning there’s a much bigger picture than my small little world, it was hard to settle back into normal life. I mean after the things I saw… who could? And if it wasn’t for Charlie, I probably wouldn’t have done it, but as usual, she’s the voice of reason and the source of stability. But I was managing it. We got back to our way of life, we returned to whatever ‘normal’ was for us. Our Mummy/Baby bond was stronger than ever and we made sure to take time out of my busy schedule to have time to focus on that. Meanwhile, the rest of my life was devoted to campaigning. After the current Prime Minister called for an early election after recognising the threat Charlie and I posed, we had no time to waste as we campaigned like crazy, trying to win people’s hearts and minds. There were a lot of things to do, a lot of places to go, a lot of people to talk to, and Charlie helped me through it all. She was my rock. Sure, I had staff thanks to my political party, and they were a great help, but it was Charlie that kept me going. I had to stop taking orders for my clothes, sadly. I was far too busy, the only time I had to make anything was for myself, so regretfully I had to step back from the business and let Malcolm run it for the time being. I’d send him sketches occasionally, so he always had new designs, and thankfully with the help of his girlfriend, Claire, he was managing to keep up with demand without being too overworked. Part of me missed that old life of mine, designing clothes… helping regressed and kidnapped littles… but I knew this was more important. If I win, this would make a much larger difference to little’s lives. So yes, my life gets pretty hectic lately. I don’t get much free time to myself outside of evenings, and even then I’m too exhausted to do much. So these little get-togethers with my friends every now and again mean the world to me. I get to be my baby-self and play with my friends for an afternoon… I get to forget my worries and fears. Today I’d colour some pictures in, play dress up, pretend I’m a tiger, throw balls from the ballpit at my friends, and probably have my nappy changed at multiple points and be teased the entire time. Tonight we’d all hang out as adults with my other friends, the old team of mine, and we’d have a drink or two. Sort of a ‘calm before the storm’ type thing. The election was in two weeks. I still didn’t feel prepared for it, I don’t think anyone did. And this was the last time we all had free to spend time together before it. So I was going to make the most out of it and colour the hell out of some Princesses. After Zoey, Alice, Sarah and I spent a few hours playing in my playroom and having fun whilst Charlie and the other bigs chatted downstairs, talking about boring adult things no doubt, it was time to wind down and get going to the pub, otherwise we’d be late. So John took Alice in his arms and said goodbye, they had stuff to do and needed to head home, wishing us a good time and good luck with the election as no doubt the next time I would be able to see them is at the election results. Eve put Sarah and Zoey in their double stroller and grabbed her coat, heading for the front door. “I’ll get these two bundled up in the car and get going. You two won’t be far behind, I hope? You can’t be late.” She said, looking back at Charlie and I. “Don’t worry, I’ve just got to change my baby back into my girlfriend, dress her in some more appropriate adult clothing, then we’ll catch up and meet you at the pub.” Charlie replied. “Good. It’ll be nice to see everyone again. Oh and Liv, if I don’t remember to remind you later, don’t forget your therapy appointment tomorrow.” Eve reminded me. “I know, Doc…” I said, smiling at her, with a slight grin. “Good, because there’s something I want to try. It may help you, after everything you’ve been through.” “Oh?” “Be patient! You really are just a baby, aren’t you? You’re as bad as these two…” Eve laughed, making me blush. “Oh you don’t know the half of it…” Charlie added, making me blush even more. This wasn’t fair, they’re not allowed to team up on me! Why is everyone ganging up on me?! “So yes, see you soon. Don’t forget… appointment.” Eve said, opening the front door and gripping the stroller that held two of my best friends, who were fast asleep at this point, napping together as they held hands. It was adorable. “Thank you for reminding me, Doc.” I said, rolling my eyes at her. “I have to…” “I missed ONE appointment!” I whined. “And now you’re going to have me reminding you every time.” She grinned back at me. Everyone had gone, leaving just Charlie and I alone together again. “Right, time to get you changed and into your new dress!” She said, excitedly, as she spun around and lunged for me, grabbing me and lifting me up into her arms. I’m glad she was going to carry me back to the nursery to change me, as the crawler nappy I was still wearing meant there was no way I’d get up the stairs in any reasonable amount of time. “And I can drink tonight?” I asked. “You can have two drinks. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” Clapping excitedly, I snuggled into Charlie’s chest, her warmth and smell making me instantly melt in her arms, as I listened to her soothing heartbeat. Everything was at peace with the world. Everything just felt right. Everything was great… until… “But you’re getting those drinks in one of your bottles…” ======================================================== Eeeeeeeee! So excited for you all to be able to read this finally! I hope you enjoyed it! As I mentioned, I've moved away from Patreon and am finding a new home for my stories. I'm thinking of offering exclusive stories or other benefits to those who support me and my writing, and I'm setting up a Ko-fi for people who want to help me as I make the move over to a new home. I'll keep you all updated on what I do, as right now it's all just super bad for my anxiety and it's hard to figure all this out. Happy to take suggestions on what people want from it, where I end up. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support over the past couple of years! Seriously, your support meant the world to me, and I hope to be set up somewhere new soon. New chapters of Little in Love 2 every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Hi Everyone. Long time enjoyer of the forum, first time poster. I've enjoyed reading stories about ABDL for many years now, both on her and across the rest of the vast internet. I'm not new to writing, however this is my first ABDL story that I've written, or at least the first one that I felt good enough about to post. I posted this story first on the abdlstories subreddit, and decided "Hey, why not post it here too." I've completed only 2 chapters so far, but I'll continue working on this story. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I welcome any sort of criticism. Thank you. Chapter 1: A Day of Relaxation Gone Awry June 2nd, 2023. 2:13pm “Wow, what a shitshow.” I say with a sigh as I unlock the door, stepping into the house. Another tedious day at work. I swear, people always think data entry is an easy position; well I’d like to see them try dealing with the shit I have to deal with. If it’s not my supervisor breathing down my neck, it’s one of my colleagues needing some help with a monotonous task. “Well, at least I got off early today.” I couldn’t be happier with the early release. Mostly because I was about 2 seconds from murdering that idiot Beth. Seriously, how hard is it to save a spreadsheet before you close it out! Well, whatever. Not my problem anymore; at least for the weekend. I hang my coat up on the rack, kick my heels off, and sluggishly make my way over to the couch. I sit down, feeling the weight of the day release from my shoulders. Grabbing the remote from the coffee table, I turn on the T.V and begin to scroll through Netflix, hoping to find something to distract me from my hellish day. From across the house, I can hear the shower running, and a smile forms on my face. No matter what bullshit I have to deal with, I know it will be alright. I know I can come home to my favorite person: Emma. I hear the sound of water cease, and a few moments later, I see what I can only describe as the definition of beauty exit the bathroom. Her long, dark brown hair hanging over her shoulder, still damp from the shower. Her skin covered by a towel around her waist, leaving me just able to see glimpses of her fair, glistening skin. I watch as she begins to head to the bedroom, before doing a double take towards me. I watch as her face brightens up. “Roxie! I didn’t know you’d be home so early! How was work?” She walks over to me and pecks me on the cheek, careful not to let her towel fall. “If I have to fix one of Beth’s screw ups one more time, I’m gonna demand a raise for the extra work.” I say, half sarcastically, but with a hint of seriousness within. “She somehow manages to make extra work for me to do on a daily basis.” I shouldn’t be too hard on Beth. I mean sure, she fucks up a lot, but it’s not exactly her fault. Beth joined the company a couple years back as a receptionist, and she really flourished. I remember when I went in for my interview, and she made me feel welcome, calming my nerves. I’d even go as far to say that she was my first friend over there .Unfortunately, the company has been short staffed these past few months, and moved her over to the data entry department. It’s not like she’s the worst member on the team either. Data entry just isn’t her specialty. Most of the time, I don’t even mind helping her out, but with the rest of today…well I guess it just got on my nerves. “I feel bad for her.” Emma remarks. “It can’t be easy being moved around the company like that.” “Yeah, I know. I’ll text her later and tell her not to worry.” I just hope I don’t forget. My brain feels overworked today. I look up at the clock and take note of the time: 2:30. “Hey babe, don’t you have that meeting in an hour?” A look of surprise shoots across Emma’s face, and I can see a bit of panic in her eyes. “Dammit, I thought I had more time! Oh shit, where did I put my outfit…wait yeah I laid it out on the bed! Sorry babe, we’ll talk more later!” “Do you want some help getting ready?” I ask, wanting to remove some of her worry. “No, I should be fine. You just relax for now. You’ve had a long enough day already.” With a second peck on the cheek, I watch as she hurries her way to the bedroom door, hips swaying as I watch her disappear behind the doorframe. I feel sorry for her at times. Being an account manager for her company's high level executives comes with many perks: free travel, time off and a lucrative salary being some awesome bonuses. However, it also means having to make herself available for dinner meetings, out of state conferences, and other hindrances. I decide to resume my task, and after a couple more minutes of scrolling, I settle on a classic; She-Ra. God, I can’t count how many times I’ve rewatched this series, but here I am, going down the rabbit hole once again. I watch as the red N flashes across the screen, and the title intro plays. After a few minutes, I begin to feel a bit parched, and decide a cool beverage is in order. I get up and make my way to the kitchen. As I walk, I hear Emma getting louder in the bedroom. If I had to guess, she misplaced something. “Where the hell did I put those earrings?!? Come on, I just had…oh, they’re on the desk.” I chuckle to myself. This is pretty normal for Emma, rushing to get ready. I know to give her some space when she gets heated like that, so I continue to the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge, I grab 2 cans of Diet Coke. “It’s not like I wanna get back up later.” I reason to myself. Satisfied with my choice of soft drink, I make my way back to the living room. “Damn, I missed Adora finding the sword!” Having seen the show more times than I care to admit, I elect to not rewind, and just continue watching. I watch through to the credits of the first episode before I hear the bedroom door open. Emma walks out, her outfit finally complete. “How do I look? Ready for business?” She asks, fishing for a compliment. “You look gorgeous as always.” I say, sincere in my words. To me, she is, and will always be the most beautiful woman in the world. Today though, her look is that of an absolute professional. Her white, button down shirt buttoned up, with her black blazer overtop, just screams “I know what I’m talking about” while her ironed dress pants complete the ensemble. She looks at me and her lips, crimson lipstick freshly applied, turn into a smile, and a slight blush appears on her face, clearly enjoying what she heard. “Hearing that makes the effort worth it.” I watch as she walks over to the door, grabbing her purse off the coffee table along the way. As she pulls out her keyring from the bag, she turns to me. “I’m not sure how long this meeting will run, but I’m willing to guess it will be a few hours. You know Andrew; he never shuts up.” She didn’t have to remind me. Andrew is her partner at the company, and he truly doesn’t know how to stop talking. When I first met him at the company Christmas party, he went on and on for over an hour about his trip to the Florida Keys. I was only able to escape due to Emma’s timely rescue. He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but man can he chat your ear off. “Yeah, don’t let him go off the rails again, or you may not come back till tomorrow.” Emma chuckles at my remark, before opening the door. “Okay, well I’ll see you afterwards, no matter the time.” She jokes back. “Love you Roxie, and don’t forget to message Beth!” “Oh shit, thanks!” I can’t believe I already forgot. “I love you too Amore.” I didn’t learn many words from my heritage, but I learned that one. I should really learn more Italian though. With one last smile, I watch as Emma walks through the door, locking it behind her. A couple moments later, I hear the sound of her BMW starting up, before quieting down as she pulls out of the driveway. I sigh, missing her already. With nothing else to do, I return my attention to the T.V, noticing half of the episode having played whilst my attention was pulled. “Aw man, I’m missing all the good parts.” I say before pausing the episode. I sit back, contemplating what else I can do to pass the time. Just then, a realization strikes me; I have the place to myself for a few hours, and no plans for the rest of the day. I smirk as I figure out my new plan. I have a chance to engage in my own little secret. I get up from the couch and, with a brisk pace, I make my way over to the spare bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I lock it out of habit. I know I have the place to myself, but I still can’t get over my fear of being discovered in my secret activity. I walk over to the guest bed, and bend down, getting on my knees. I reach my hand underneath the frame, feeling around until I find what I'm looking for. With a bit of effort, I pull a wooden chest out from underneath the bed. A simple design, one almost wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, at least until they look at the heavy duty lock on the front. I walk over to the walk-in closet, and head to the back, finding the second part of my lengthy process of hiding my secret. I open up a shoe box filled with a pair of old sneakers. I reach my way into the right shoe, and pull out a small key. I then return the shoe box to its place, and return to the chest. Placing the key into the slot, I twist it with shaking hands, my excitement building with each passing moment. With a click, the lock unlatches, and I place it off to the side, making sure to leave the key inside so I don’t forget where I put it. I slowly open the lid, and reveal my secret treasures. Inside the hidden chest, there are many different items that share the same theme. In secret, I am an ABDL. I’ve had a love and fascination for the kink for as long as I can remember. Once I moved in with Emma, I locked my stuff away in secret, afraid that she would think I’m some kind of degenerate…and I wouldn’t be able to stand that. Pushing that dark thought aside, I look over my collection of goodies, and after a moment, I pull out my first item. I’ve always been a bit of a goth, so when I found out about Rearz Rebel design, it was a perfect match for my aesthetic. I pull out the thick padding, and trace my fingers over the small skulls placed throughout. I quickly pull myself out of my mini trance, and grab the rest of my changing supplies before throwing them on the mattress. I lay myself down next to the supplies, before unbuttoning my black jeans, slipping them off of my legs and letting them fall to the floor. I take a look at my panties, looking over the similar design, black with little white skulls throughout. “No more panties today!” I say, making myself chuckle at my own bravado, before sliding those off as well. I then unfold my diaper, and place it underneath my rear, making sure to get the positioning just right. Once situated, I take a quick look at my body. While the hormones had done a bit of shrinkage, I still had a rather decent, if not average, sized penis. I know some Trans women have mixed or negative feelings about their traditionally male organ, I never quite felt that type of dysphoria. If anything, the rest of my figure was the issue, not the privates I have. Continuing with my mission, I begin to sprinkle a decent helping of baby powder over my nether regions. After all, what baby doesn’t smell like baby powder. Once satisfied, I raise the front of the diaper up, and take my time taping up the sides, wanting to make the fit as perfect as it could be. Finally secure, I let out a sigh of relief, before placing my hand on the front of the plastic, enjoying the thickness between my legs. Feeling a pressure on the front began to make my arousal grow, and I take a moment to enjoy it. “I should probably keep getting ready, otherwise I’ll be here all day.” I hop off the bed and return to the chest, pulling out a black onesie with a cartoon skull on the front. You could definitely say I have a theme for this outfit. I temporarily place it on the bed so I can strip out of the rest of my clothing. I unbutton my black button up shirt, letting it fall away, exposing my bra. I debate for a moment if I should keep it on, before reaching behind my back and unclipping the garment. It just wouldn't feel right to wear right now, with the rest of my infantile outfit. I pick up the onesie, and unbutton the snaps on the crotch before slipping it over my head. I feel the fabric expand and constrict to my form as it gets into place. I reach between my legs, and re snap the crotch of the garb. I reach into the chest once again, and pull out a black pacifier, before quickly popping it into my mouth. With a suckle, I walk over to the mirror to inspect the look. “Just like a baby.” I think to myself, and smile behind the dummy. I admire how the onesie confirms to my frame, accentuating the small curves I had developed over the years. I turn around, and look at the thickness surrounding my butt. Anyone looking would be able to tell what was underneath, especially with the design peaking out slightly around the legs. I finally look how I desire. Taking one last glimpse back into the mirror, I turn back to the chest for the final time, pulling out a black bag, filled with various other goodies. Taking it with me, I unlock the door, and head back to the living room. I situate myself back into my spot, feeling the cushion underneath me. I smile to myself, and I truly begin to feel the stress of the day melt away. After a moment of silent relaxation, I reach into the bag and pull out an oversized baby bottle. Deciding to stick to my already opened beverage, I carefully pour the can of soda into the bottle, before opening the second can and doing the same. I screw the lid back on, and begin to place the nipple towards my mouth, forgetting about the paci sitting between my lips. Giggling at my forgetfulness, I quickly attach the pacifier to the clip on my onesie, leaving it hanging within reach. I then return the bottle to my mouth, taking a sip of the refreshing, caffeinated drink. I place the bottle down next to me, before reaching over to the remote, resuming the episode I was watching. I sat there for a couple hours, watching the adventures unfold on the screen. Having finished my bottle, I had gotten up and filled it back up with water, polishing that off as well. As the 6th..or is it the 7th episode began to play, I returned the paci to my awaiting lips, enjoying my own personal nirvana. Midway through the episode, I begin to feel the results of all my consumption. I take a moment to decide if now is the moment I want to release, before deciding to return my attention to the show. Another series of credits rolls across the screen, and I begin bouncing in my seat, the desperation reaching its peak. I realize that I soon won’t have a choice if I want to go or not. Pulling my legs onto the couch, I get into position, sitting on my knees. With a final sigh, I begin to feel my bladder release, slowly at first, but quickly turning into a flood. I feel the warmth spreading around the front of the padding, which eagerly ate up the onslaught of pee. Many seconds pass by, and after what seemed to be a minute, I feel the flow turn into a trickle, before finally stopping. I begin to unsnap the crotch of the onesie, wanting to see myself how soaked I had become, and I was not disappointed. The entire front of the Rebelz had turned a pale yellow color, and reaching my hand down, I could feel the satisfying squish that only a soaked diaper could give. As I was inspecting my results, I felt my arousal from earlier return in earnest, the front of my padding beginning to tent, my erection making itself known. This time, I decide to do something about it. Reaching back into the bag, I pull out my favorite toy, a wireless wand vibrator. Pressing the button, I feel the device spring to life. I sit back down, feeling the warmth had made its way somewhat to the back of the diaper, before bringing the wand to the crotch of the padding. “Oh, how I missed this.” I say as I revel in the sensations. I turn up the speed a level before beginning to move it around, my privates becoming fully erect in the process. I close my eyes, and begin fantasizing about my usual dream. Instead of my hands guiding the wand, it’s Emma, using the device to provide this pleasure to me. I imagine all the things I wish I could experience with her. My mind plays the scene, me squirming around, feeling the wand to its job, while Emma calls me her good girl, her soggy baby, her precious little. All too soon, I feel myself beginning to reach my climax. With the last few strokes of the vibrator, I feel myself begin to orgasm, spurting my load inside my diaper, which happily accepted the additional liquid. I turn the device off, and breath heavily, basking in the afterglow of my alone time. Just as I finish recovering, I hear a sound to my left, and I open my eyes. My heart drops. Having been distracted by my masturbating, I must have failed to notice the sound of the lock on the door, or the opening of it for that matter. There stood Emma, confirming my worst fears. I begin to panic, before noticing something. Where in my worst nightmares, I had always imagined her with a look of disgust, in reality, here she stood, with a massive grin on her face. “Well, out of all the things I expected to walk in to, this wasn’t at the top of the list.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (CW: Shame, Homophobia, Transphobia, Familial Abuse, Mentions of Violence) Chapter 2: Caught in The Act June 2nd, 2023. 5:48pm Dread. All I feel is an overwhelming feeling of dread. For years, my biggest fear has been this exact moment. (I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let this happen! I should have never unlocked that chest!) My internal monologue goes into overdrive, reminding me how I should’ve been more careful, should’ve stayed locked in the guest bedroom, should’ve never engaged in my perverse kink to begin with. I feel my anxiety building with each passing moment. “So…wanna tell me what’s going on here?” Emma asks. I’m unable to read her expression, whether that’s due to my rush of emotions, or her lack of displaying one, I’m unable to tell. (Just talk to her! What’s the worst that she could say? That you’re disgusting, a pervert, a mental case? Yeah…that’s definitely what she’s going to say!) I open my mouth, trying to get any semblance of a word out, just…something. But nothing comes out. Instead, I feel my body enter autopilot, my legs moving faster than I can think, rushing me over to the guest bedroom. I quickly lock the door before collapsing on the floor, holding my head in my lap as the tears begin to form. What if she doesn’t think I’m sexy anymore? What if she wants to leave me? Why couldn’t I just be normal?!? I continue to cry, wishing more than anything that this didn’t happen. But it did. The cat’s out of the bag now, and no amount of wishing would make it otherwise. So I cry; that’s all I can do, is just cry. Suddenly, I hear a gentle knocking on the door, and I hear a voice filled with kindness and concern on the other side. “Roxie, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I tried calling you to let you know I was coming back, but you didn’t answer.” I mentally kick myself, looking over to my jeans and seeing my phone sticking out of the pocket. Me and my forgetfulness. “Listen, I’m not mad, okay? I just want to talk to you. I don’t want to rush you, but would you please open the door?” I sit there for a moment longer, before slowly making my way to the door. I pause for a moment before unlocking the door, and cracking it open, just able to poke my head through. “I’m so, so sorry Emma.” I say with fresh tears dripping down my cheeks. “I never wanted you to see me…like this. I promise you I’ll never do this again, just please don't…” I’m interrupted by Emma pushing the door open. (This is it, she’s going to yell at me.) I think, before quickly being enveloped in a hug. “That’s enough, Roxie.” She says, only warmth in her voice. “I’m here, and I’ve got you. It’s all right.” I feel nothing but kindness and love from her words, not even a hint of anger in her voice. Hearing the conviction in her voice, a new wave of tears emerge from my eyes. Not tears of fear, or of sorrow, but of pure relief. I stand there, wrapped in her embrace, and continue to let out the emotions I’ve been carrying for too long. It feels like years have passed standing there, although in reality, only a few minutes have likely passed. I feel Emma begin to pull away, and I look down at my feet, embarrassed by my emotional outburst. A moment of silence lingers for a moment longer, before I hear her speak. “Are you okay now?” I see the concern in her eyes, still worried about me. I sniffle a bit, and attempt to regain my composure. “I…I’m okay. Thank you…for the hug…” I trail off “Are you sure? It’s okay to not be okay, you know.” She looks at me, awaiting my response. “Yeah, no I’m okay now. It was just…a bit of a shock is all. Last time I forget my phone.” I attempt to make the situation a bit less awkward with my joke, and I think it worked, maybe just a bit. “Listen, I know you’ve probably got a million different things running through your mind right now, but let me reiterate; I’m not mad, not in the slightest. Why don’t you sit down, I’ll make us some coffee, and we can talk about all of…well, this.” I give a slight nod, and head over to the kitchen table. I watch as Emma walks towards the kitchen, turning back long enough to give me a reassuring smile. (I should take a moment to compose myself. I mean, we’ve gotta talk about it at this point.) I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, holding it for just a moment before releasing, and repeating the process. As I feel myself regaining my composure, I open my eyes to see Emma walking out of the kitchen. She places a mug full of coffee in front of me, plenty of cream and sugar inside, before taking the seat next to me. I take a whiff of the warm beverage, and bring the cup to my lips, taking a savory sip. “Before I say anything…” Emma starts “I want you to talk. What does all of this…” she points to my outfit “mean to you. No judgment, just start where you’re comfortable, and speak truthfully.” Where do I even begin, I wonder. How do I explain all of this? Do I lie? Make up some kind of excuse for why I’m wearing diapers and baby clothes? I look into Emma’s eyes, and I begin to feel at ease. I decide to tell her. I decide to tell her everything. “Well…I’m into all of this. I’m an “ABDL”, which stands for Adult Baby Diaper Lover.” I see her expression remains unchanged, so I continue. “I’ve always had a fascination for Diapers, for as long as I can remember. I always dreamed of going back to the moments of my childhood, even when I was…well still a child. I would dream of being able to go back to Diapers, and just enjoy the carefree experience of an infant. As I grew older, my feeling began to change and evolve, becoming more…complex. Not only was I discovering my sexuality, and how it plays into my obsession, but I also began to figure out more about myself. I began questioning my life, trying to figure out why I felt like I was a stranger in my own skin. I would look online, trying to see if someone, anyone, felt the way I felt. Not only did I find out about ABDL, but I discovered that some people can be “Transgender.” After reading more about the experiences of Trans Men and Women, I finally figured out what was “wrong” with me.” I feel Emma place her hand on top of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. From the moment I met her, she knew about my gender identity. Having always known that she was accepting, I still felt a little anxious, telling my whole story. I take a breath, and continue on with my story. “Maybe a part of me wanted to relive the moments of my childhood, because I never truly had “my” childhood. I was just pretending to be what everyone thought I was. Now that I knew who I was…I knew I had to hide it.” “Why?” Emma asks. “I mean, I get hiding your interest in Ageplay, but why did you feel like you had to hide your identity?” I wince, reliving the harsh memories like they were yesterday. “I hid it because I lived in the south, and it was the 2010’s. The folks down there aren’t exactly welcoming to those who are…different.” I pause, steeling myself for what comes next. “That included my parents. I knew full well how they felt about “Queers”, and I knew for a fact that they wouldn’t change their minds, not even for their own blood.” Emma looks shocked. “I…I knew you didn’t talk to your parents, but you never talked about why. I can’t…I can’t even imagine the feeling.” “Yeah, it was Hell. But I survived. I buried my true feeling deep down, and continued living a life that wasn’t mine. I got through Middle School, and even High School, hating the changes happening to my body, but unable to do anything about it. I just…tried not to think about it. I buried myself into my school work, doing everything and anything I could do to keep myself busy. Eventually, that paid off, and I graduated with honors. I even got scholarship offers from Universities. And then I finally realized…I could be free. I was about to be out in the world, on my own, free to do as I may. And suddenly, I began to feel alive again. I began making plans. I got myself into school, registered for classes, and got into the dorms.” “So you could finally live as yourself? Sounds like you found a way to be happy.” I looked at Emma. I always appreciate her optimism, but not everything works out as you hope in life. “Yeah it does…but then I made a mistake.” She looks at me with a mix of curiosity, confusion and worry. “It was supposed to be a happy day. I was moving out. I had my car all packed and everything. All I had to do was hop in, turn the key, and never look back. I didn’t do that. For some reason, I thought I could finally tell my parents about who I was, who I wanted to be. I told them I was Trans…and regretted it.” I see a tear form in Emma’s eye, too shocked to even speak. “My father told me I was a freak, a degenerate looser, and that I would be doomed to Hell for my sins. He…did more than yell.” I reached to the neck of my clothes and pulled it to the side, showing off my faint scar from all those years ago. I see a look of shock and anger fill her face for a moment, before returning her expression back to composed. She reaches over, feeling the surface of my skin. “That’s how you got that scar? I always assumed it was from something embarrassing, not something so…so wrong! How could he do that to you?” I’ve asked myself the same question over the years. “He told me to leave, and never come back, or else he’d bury me in the ground. Mom..my mother just stood there, not even looking at me. I don’t know if she was just scared of my father, or if she agreed with him. All I know, is that she wouldn’t even look at me. So…I left, and never went back. That…that was the last time I heard from either of them.” “Roxie, I’m so sorry. Nobody should have to go through something like that.” She reaches around the table and gives me a hug. No tears flowed from me this time though, that memory had already extracted all the tears it ever would. “It’s okay Emma. The story gets a bit better from here. I went to college out of state, finally leaving the bigotry of the south behind, and I moved into the dorms, free for the first time. I even had a dorm room to myself. I swear, when I found that out, I felt that my luck was finally turning around. I finally had the time, space and availability to start being me. I got a part time job, and since I didn’t have any other expenses besides my car insurance, I had a good amount of disposable income. I ordered clothes for myself, started practicing make-up, dyed my hair, and even started out on hormones. I was, for the first time in my life, living for myself. Once I got settled into my new life, my mind turned back to my…other interests. I ordered diapers, onesies, pacifiers, you name it, having it all delivered to a P.O box. People saw me bringing packages to my dorm room all the time; they probably thought it was more clothes or something. It wouldn’t have mattered if the did though, nothing was going to stop me, not anymore. I began letting myself explore my ageplay kink, and let me tell you, the first time I put on a diaper, I felt complete. Everything that I had lived through, all the pain, all the suffering, it was all worth it. So..I kept doing it. And well…that’s where we are today.” I wait for her response with baited breath. “Thank you, Roxie, for sharing your story. I can’t imagine your struggle. I mean, having to deal with all of that…your family, and…just wow. I’m glad you were able to find yourself, and embrace the little within you. I want you to know, I love you, and nothing you’ve told me has changed that.” Emma smiles at me, and I return it back to her. It was my turn now to lean over the table, embracing the woman that I love. Then, something hits me. I never mentioned the term “Little” in my explanation. In fact, Emma used the word “Ageplay” before I even brought it up. I then remember the smile she gave me when I was caught; like she knew what I was doing. Not one point during this ordeal did she ever question the fact that I was wearing a onesie, or a wet diaper for that matter. I break the embrace, and look into her eyes. I ask the question now in my mind. “Emma, you know more about Ageplay than you’re letting on, don’t you?” She looks at me for a moment, then returns that same smile I saw earlier in the day. “Guilty.” She says. “Since you were so open with me, I’m going to be open with you.” It was now my turn to listen. “I’m into Ageplay too. Specifically, I’m a Mommy. I’ve been a Mommy for a long time, years before I met you. I actually started out exploring BDSM, and while I enjoyed all the bondage, and the domination, it was always missing something for me. I was craving that touch of innocence that comes with Ageplay. I won’t hit you with my whole backstory right now. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not hiding anything from you, but you’ve had a long day, and I don’t want to dump too much on you at once. For now, know that I’m just as weird and kinky as you.” I sat there, mouth open. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine Emma, my girlfriend Emma, would even know about the world of Ageplay, let alone having been involved with it for years. My mind was swimming with questions, but she’s right, it has already been a long enough day. However, there was still one more question on my mind, that I just had to have answered. “That still doesn’t explain something. Why weren’t you surprised with me being into Ageplay? You didn’t seem shocked at all. It’s almost like…” “Like I knew?” She finished. “It’s because I did.” I see a guilty look appear on her face. “It wasn’t intentional, and I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I found your stash months ago. I was looking for my old sneakers, and was surprised to find a key inside the sole. You could imagine my confusion. Just as I was walking out of the closet, I…well, I tripped over my own feet.” I laugh, knowing full well that Emma gets distracted when cleaning and looking for things. “Yeah, laugh it up diaper girl.” We both get a laugh out of that one. “Anyways, I spent the next 10 minutes trying to figure out where I dropped the key. I looked everywhere. I checked behind the dresser, under the chair, and then looked under the bed, where I found your chest. At least I knew what the key went to, now I just had to find the key. Ironically, it was in my shoe. Don’t ask how it got there, I to this day don’t know how it happened. I unlocked the chest, and was surprised by the contents, mostly because I knew what everything inside was. I knew I didn’t have any supplies left in the house, and realized based on the sizes that they belonged to you. Plus, out of all the women I’ve ever met, nobody wears more skulls than you. I then panicked a bit, realizing I had intruded on your secret stash. I quickly locked it back up and put the key back in its hiding spot.” “Why…why didn’t you say anything? You had to know at the time it was all kink-related stuff?” I was now confused, wondering why she didn’t act on her knowledge, confront me, hell do anything with what she just learned. “I didn’t say anything because it was your secret to share. It didn’t matter that I was a Mommy, or if you were a Little, it was your secret, and you shouldn’t have had to reveal it before you were ready. If I was sorry for anything, it would be for not knocking before I came in…but this is my place too, so you could imagine how silly that would be.” I got up from my seat, and walked in close to Emma. She looked at me, unsure of what I was going to do. I move in closer, and bring my lips to hers, kissing her deeply. It lasts for a moment longer, before I begrudgingly pull back, needing to get the words out of my throat. “Thank you Emma, for the space, for listening…for everything.” “Don’t mention it. Now that the emotional stuff is over with, I’m suddenly hungry. How about I order us a Pizza, and we watch a movie, and just relax for the rest of the night?” “Sounds good to me!” I state enthusiastically, glad to put the negativity from before behind me. “Alright, how about you head to the couch and pick out something for us to watch? I’ll call the restaurant now.” As Emma pulls out her phone, I begin walking over to the couch, before realizing I’m still in my little attire. (I should probably get changed. Don’t want to push my luck tonight.) I turn around and start walking over to the bedroom, when Emma places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. “Where are you going?” she asks. “Oh, I was just going to change my clothes…for the movie.” I state, not quite ready to talk about my outfit aloud. I don’t know if I was just embarrassed, or if I was afraid she wouldn’t want me dressed like this right now. Emma then gave me a smile. “Don’t be silly, that’s a perfect outfit. Now get on the couch, crinkle butt.” She says, and gives me a quick swat on the butt, a crinkle sound emanating from my rear. A huge smile forms on my face, and I head back to the couch. I have a thought to myself. “How did I get so lucky?”

So what happened to everyone from abdlstoryforum? Well, a group of us came together with a few other like-minded individuals and made a new place that’s quite a bit different from the previous story board. More transparency. The leadership team have decided to be more open about forum operations, from things such as finances to rule changes. Quality staff. The old place had issues with allowing forum mods to do their job. Mods are fully empowered to do their job. Meaning it doesn’t matter if you're the owner’s sister; if you violate the site rules you will be dealt with accordingly. Stories. One of the biggest things that was seriously wrong with the old place was stories involving underage characters doing certain "acts". On the new site, any stories involving underage characters must first be placed in the appropriate section and reviewed by staff. IF a story with underage characters is posted without the consent of site administration it’s automatic ban. Lastly, underage characters cannot be used in a sexual situation at all and this rule is not up for discussion! More things will be added later in this post, but we wanted to make it short and keep it simple. If there are further questions, I would ask you to post them directly in this thread. Visit us today: The Scriptorium

Chapter 1: This is a joke, right? Lisa was wandering around her house frantically, getting ready to leave for work. She couldn't find half of what she needed and was about to miss her bus. Finally finding the all-important house keys, she ran out the door, locking it behind her. She sighed in relief and ran down her driveway to find a small package by her mailbox. "That's odd," Lisa thought, "I haven't ordered anything recently." She deposited the package in her purse and hurried to the bus stop just in time to catch the 12, the only bus that stopped near her work. Once taking her seat on the near-empty bus, she pulled out the box and examined it. Only her address was written on it, so she had no way of knowing where it came from or if it was meant for her. She ripped off the tape to be welcomed by bubble wrap. "This is adorable!" Lisa thought as she unwrapped the rest of the package, she saw a cute bracelet with green marble-like rocks. After putting on the bracelet, Lisa spotted a note in the box. Unfolding it, she began to read it. "To whoever receives this bracelet, I am sorry, I just couldn't take it anymore. This thing has ruined my life. I don't know where it came from but received it one day. After a few days of wearing it, I discovered this thing can grant wishes when you say "I wish.." THIS IS NOT A GOOD THING! I swear it's like a monkey's paw. You won't notice it at first, but if you aren't careful, it'll ruin you over time. You can't take back a wish once it's been made. If you are smart, you won't use it! Good luck and good riddance. Please be smart." Lisa laughed; this had to be a joke, right? The bus screeched to a stop, reminding her why she had been on the bus in the first place. Luckily for her, her workplace was only 2 stops away, so it took no time on the bus, but walking would take forever. She climbed off, thanked the bus driver, and went to the small office building in front of her. It was 5 stories high, which was small compared to the skyscrapers in the nearby area. Unfortunately for Lisa, she works on the fifth floor where an advertising company is located. So when the elevator is down, which happens often, an annoying journey up the stairs is required. Not fun in heels. "Please let them be working, please let them be working, please!" She spoke to herself as she turned the corner to where the elevators were. "Closed due to Maintenance" hung on the doors. "Danmit! I wish the elevator would just work." Suddenly, the door behind her opened as the elevator repair man walked out. "Then you got good timing. I just finished up," He told her. "Wait, are you serious? You have it working again?" Lisa's voice carried a mix of disbelief and relief. The repairman nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, just finished up. Good timing on your part." A surge of gratitude washed over Lisa. "Wow, talk about luck. Thank you so much!" "Not a problem," he said, stepping aside to let her enter the elevator. "What floor are you headed to?" "The 5th," Lisa replied, stepping in and pressing the button. "Ah, perfect. You're all set then," he remarked, moving to remove the maintenance sign. Lisa couldn't help but grin. "You've just saved me from a trek up a gazillion stairs in these heels. You're a lifesaver." The repairman chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Glad I could be of service. Have a good one!" "You too! Thanks again," Lisa called as the doors slid shut, leaving her alone in the now-functioning elevator. Once on the 5th floor, Lisa rushed over to her desk; she was late enough as it was and didn't want to run into her manager or stop to chit-chat with a coworker and get busted. Setting her things down and taking her seat, Lisa sighed in relief. "Few, finally made it, and now what do I have going on today? Looks like I have a meeting in an hour in conference room 501." *Gurgle* "Shoot, I didn't have enough time to get breakfast. I wish I had something to eat this morning; otherwise, this will be a long day." *knock* *knocK* "Hey, Lisa. Do you have a minute?" Looking up from her Computer, Lisa saw her coworker Sarah. "Hey, Sarah! what's up?" "I noticed you were running a little behind today, and you look like you could use a pick me up. I have an extra breakfast burrito I made this morning. Would you like it? If you heat it up for like 30 seconds in the microwave, it comes out amazing!" "Oh my god, you are a lifesaver, Sarah! Thank you so much. I had a hectic night last night; I'll tell you more about it at lunch." "Rain check, I'm heading out early today; I've got a doctor's appointment I need to go to, maybe Monday after the weekend unless you want to meet sooner?" "I'll get back to you. I got to unbury myself; there's a ton of things I need to catch up on." Sarah's breakfast burrito was amazing and definitely hit the spot. Now being able to focus, Lisa spent her time before her meeting catching up on emails and direct messages and preparing for the meeting. The prep work paid off while in the meeting as she provided solid updates on the status of their latest project, but before returning to work, she had to stop by the bathroom for a pee break. Only to see that three other ladies were waiting for a stall to open up. "Can you believe how long these lines get during peak hours?" Lisa chuckled nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, tell me about it," replied Sarah, her voice sympathetic. "I swear, I practically live in this line some days." A middle-aged woman in line with them nodded in agreement. "You'd think they'd install more stalls or something with how crowded it gets." Lisa chuckled, feeling discomfort as another wave of urgency hit her. "Yeah, that would be nice. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so often." Sarah chuckled. "Yeah, it's just one of those things we women have to deal with, right?" Lisa nodded, trying to ignore the increasing pressure in her bladder. "Yeah, I suppose so." As they continued to wait, Lisa's discomfort grew. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to distract herself from the urge to pee. But the pressure was becoming unbearable. "Come on, come on," Lisa muttered, hoping desperately for a stall to open up soon. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the stalls became available. Lisa practically dashed inside, grateful for the relief it offered. The discomfort from her full bladder now a distant memory. She resumes her work with renewed focus, navigating the rest of the day's tasks without significant hiccups. As evening approached, Lisa gathered her belongings, ready to return home on the bus during the peak transit hours. She joined the bustling crowd at the bus stop, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of dinner and relaxation after a long day at work. The bus arrived, and she could already see from the outside that it was pretty full. Upon getting inside, she saw her suspicion was correct: no seats left, and she'd have to stand. As Lisa stood in the crowded bus, she felt a sudden, urgent need to pee. Panic surged as she glanced down at her new pair of pants, desperately not wanting to ruin them. The pressure in her bladder was unbearable, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. Without thinking, she frantically whispered, "I wish I had some way to protect my pants." Instantly, she felt a strange sensation over her, followed by a wave of relief as she felt herself peeing. But to her shock, her pants remained completely dry. At the same time, her crotch started to feel warm. Lisa's eyes widened in disbelief as she was peeing herself. She glanced around nervously, hoping no one had noticed her moment of weakness. But as she looked at her fellow passengers, she saw that they were all engrossed in their conversations or staring blankly out the window, oblivious to her predicament. Feeling both relieved and bewildered, Lisa cautiously reached down to touch her pants, half-expecting to find them soaked despite the lack of any wet sensation. But to her amazement, they were completely dry, as if nothing had happened. However, she noticed that her underwear seemed like they swelled up, absorbing the pee, as she could still feel the warmth, and even a bit of weight was now weighing them down. "What the heck is protecting my pants?" Chapter 2: Is that a Pullup? As the bus rumbled along its route, Lisa's mind raced with confusion and disbelief. She glanced around, hoping no one would notice that she just peed herself. "What just happened?" she whispered, her heart pounding with embarrassment and bewilderment. She tried to calm her nerves with a deep breath, chalking it up to a bizarre fluke. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, or she was just overly stressed from the long day at work. But even as she tried to rationalize the inexplicable event, a nagging sense of unease lingered in the back of her mind. There was something undeniably strange about the way her pants remained dry despite it feeling like her bladder released its contents. Lost in her thoughts, Lisa almost missed her stop. With a jolt of realization, she made her way to the front of the bus, eager to escape the uncomfortable confines of the crowded vehicle. Stepping off the bus onto the sidewalk, Lisa took a moment to gather her thoughts. She knew she couldn't dwell on the strange occurrence forever; she had to focus on getting home and putting the bizarre incident behind her. As she walked the short distance to her apartment building, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of the swollen underwear between her legs, making her worry that her peeing wasn't just in her head. Entering her apartment, Lisa tossed her purse onto her beanbag chair in her bedroom. The box and note were still in it, slightly spilling out of her bag as it landed. Feeling utterly drained both physically and emotionally, Lisa moved to her couch out in the living room and collapsed onto it. She needed time to process everything that had happened but knew she couldn't afford to dwell on it indefinitely. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and went to the kitchen, her stomach grumbling in protest. Dinner seemed like a distant afterthought, but she knew she needed to eat something to replenish her energy after the long day. As she rummaged through the fridge, her eyes fell on a box of leftover pizza from the night before. With a shrug, she grabbed the container and popped a few slices into the microwave. As she waited for her meal to heat up, her thoughts drifted back to the strange bracelet on her wrist. It was adorable, but where did it come from? Was it okay to keep it? What was up with that weird note? *Beep* *Beep* *Beep* The microwave sounded, breaking her train of thought and bringing her back to her dinner. As Lisa sat down to eat her dinner, she couldn't shake the unease that had settled over her since the bizarre incident on the bus. The pizza tasted bland, the flavors muted by her racing thoughts. She kept glancing down at the bracelet on her wrist, its intricate design catching the light from the overhead lamp. With a heavy sigh, Lisa took her last bite, her appetite gone from the bland flavor. She felt she should address the weird feeling from on the bus but wasn't sure where to start; it was all too weird. The logical part of her brain screamed that it was all just in her head, a series of strange events with rational explanations. But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that something more was at play. After staring blankly at the wall for a few minutes, Lisa pushed herself up from the table and went to the bathroom to shower. The shower's hot water sounded inviting, a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her mind. As she undressed, she couldn't help but glance down at her underwear. To her horror and confusion, she saw that her panties had been replaced by what looked like a girls' pull-up diaper. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver down her spine. "What the...?" Lisa muttered, her hands trembling as she touched the strange garment. It was soft to the touch. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Confused, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the image of a grown woman wearing a diaper staring back at her. As Lisa stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection in disbelief, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a bizarre hallucination brought on by stress and exhaustion. "This can't be real," she muttered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Shaking her head, she quickly stripped off the pull-up diaper, tossing it into the trash bin with disgust and disbelief. "I must be losing my mind," she whispered, her hands still trembling as she turned on the shower, desperate to wash away the day's strange events. The hot water cascaded over her body, providing some much-needed comfort and clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. As she scrubbed away the tension and confusion, she tried to push aside the nagging feeling that the diaper was real. Once she had finished her shower, Lisa wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, determined to put the bizarre events behind her and get some much-needed rest. With each step, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a figment of her imagination, resulting from an overactive mind and a stressful day at work. She moved to her bedroom, where she retrieved a fresh pair of panties from her dresser drawer, determined to put the day's strange events behind her. Slipping into the comfortable cotton panties, Lisa couldn't shake the memory of the pull-up diaper she had found herself wearing earlier. It was all too surreal, too bizarre to be real. Yet, the soft fabric of the panties against her skin offered some semblance of normalcy, grounding her in the present moment. Oddly, they didn't feel like the pull-up she thought she saw herself wearing. Could it have really been a pull-up diaper? With a sigh, Lisa grabbed a cozy pair of pajamas from her closet, eager to relax and unwind after the tumultuous day she had endured. As she slipped into the soft fabric, she felt a slight sense of relief wash over her, the warmth of the pajamas soothing her frayed nerves. Tired from the day's events, Lisa opted to go to sleep and crawled into bed. She usually would stay up to watch some TV or read a good book, but with the stresses from work, the date she had last night, and the weirdness she experienced today, she figured getting sleep was the better option for tonight. Chapter 3: That was a Weird Dream On Saturday morning, Lisa awoke to the sunlight seeping through the curtains. She groaned softly as she stretched her limbs, feeling the warmth of the morning sun. She enjoyed the blissful ignorance of sleep for a moment, her mind still shielded from the previous day's events. But as she shifted in bed, her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the strange occurrences that had unfolded—a bizarre package, a mysterious bracelet, and the unsettling discovery of the pull-up she was wearing. "Must've been a weird dream," she mumbled to herself, her voice thick with sleep as she attempted to dismiss the surreal memories that lingered in the recesses of her mind. "There's no way any of that was real." Despite her attempts to convince herself of the absurdity of it all, a lingering sense of unease persisted within her consciousness. There was something undeniably tangible about the memories, a lingering presence that refused to be dismissed as mere figments of her imagination. Pushing aside her lingering doubts, Lisa swung her legs over the edge of the bed, preparing to face the day ahead. As she stretched, a sudden, intense pressure in her bladder jolted her from her thoughts, causing her to freeze mid-motion. "Uh-oh," she muttered under her breath, her heart sinking as the urgency of her need to pee washed over her. It was an overwhelming sensation, demanding her immediate attention and threatening to ruin her day before it started. Lisa scrambled out of bed, her movements quick and frantic as she stumbled towards the bathroom. The painful discomfort with each step reminded her of the urgency to relieve herself. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her sense of urgency intensified, each step feeling heavier as if trudging through mud. The pressure in her bladder seemed to swell with each passing second, a relentless reminder of her body's urgent demand. Finally reaching the bathroom, Lisa's hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, her heart pounding. With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her eyes darting to the familiar sight of the toilet. But before she could register her next move, a sudden wave of warmth flooded her. Panic seized her as she realized what was happening, her hands fumbling with the waistband of her pajama pants in a frantic attempt to undo them. But a strange sensation overcame her before she could even step closer to the toilet. A soft rustling sound filled the air, accompanied by a strange sensation against her skin. Lisa's eyes widened in shock as she looked down, expecting to see her pants darkening with the telltale signs of her accident. But to her bewilderment, her pants remained dry, untouched by the inevitable release of her bladder. Instead, a faint crinkling sound reached her ears, followed by the sensation of something expanding against her skin. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Lisa realized what was happening. Her heart raced as she looked down, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before her. A pull-up diaper, once again, was in the place of her panties, soaked with the evidence of her accident. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the surreal scene before her, unable to comprehend how such a thing could happen. This still had to be a dream, right? There's no way this would be possible. But it felt real. There she was, seeing herself in the mirror again, in a soaked pull-up diaper for little girls. Looking around, she could tell she was still in her apartment; things weren't different, and then it caught her eye. Her purse was sitting on the beanbag chair in her room, with a small box and a note sticking out. The reality of the situation sank in, and a sense of dread washed over her. This was no dream, no figment of her imagination. It was all too real; Lisa quickly slid back up her pants and ran over to the note to reread it and see if she missed any information. Lisa frantically sifted through the box's contents, her hands trembling with anxiety and disbelief. She felt frustration wash over her. The absence of clues regarding the mysterious bracelet's origin only increased her bewilderment. She scanned the note again, her eyes darting over the hastily scrawled words in search of any hidden meaning or clue that might shed light on her predicament. But the message remained cryptic, offering no further insight into the true nature of the bracelet or its origins. A sense of helplessness washed over Lisa as she realized nothing could explain what was happening. She then attempted to remove the bracelet from her wrist, but her efforts proved futile, the band clinging stubbornly to her skin as if fused in place by some unseen force. Panic surged through her veins as she tugged at the bracelet with increasing desperation, her mind racing with a million unanswered questions. Suddenly, her phone started to ring, breaking her thoughts and frustration at the bracelet. She fumbled for her phone, her heart pounding with fear and apprehension. The caller ID revealed Sarah's name. With a shaky breath, she answered the call, her voice a little cracked from her worries and just recently waking up. "Hello?" she ventured tentatively, followed by her clearing her throat as she realized how raspy she first sounded. "Hey, Lisa, are you okay?" Sarah's voice sounded concerned, her words tinged with worry as she sensed the tension in Lisa's voice. Lisa hesitated momentarily, grappling with the overwhelming urge to confide in Sarah, to unburden herself of the weight of her newfound reality. But the fear of sounding insane, of being dismissed as delusional, held her back. "I... I'm fine," she replied hesitantly, her words tinged with uncertainty as she struggled to mask the turmoil within her. "Just... woke up a minute ago. What's up?" "I just wanted to check in on you," she said softly, her words laced with sincerity. "You seemed a little off yesterday, and I wanted to ensure everything's okay. Maybe meet up for coffee and talk about Thursday night?" "Oh, that's right! I didn't get to tell you yet, did I?" she replied, her voice becoming energized with the distraction and the prospect of sharing the spicy details of her date on Thursday. "That sounds great," Lisa said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the lingering unease gnawing at her. "Coffee sounds like just what I need right now." Sarah's relieved sigh was audible through the phone. "I'm glad to hear that. How about we meet up at Brew Haven around noon? That should give us plenty of time to catch up." "Sounds perfect," Lisa replied, her voice steadier now as she focused on the prospect of spending time with her friend. "I'll see you there." Lisa's mind raced with a million conflicting thoughts and emotions as they confirmed the details. On one hand, she was grateful for the distraction and the chance to talk with Sarah about her recent date. But on the other hand, she couldn't imagine having another accident while hanging out with her friend. Chapter 4: New Panties Please As Lisa stood in the bathroom stall, her mind reeling from the surreal experience, she couldn't shake the feeling that something extraordinary was happening. The evidence was right in front of her—the pull-up diaper now snugly wrapped around her hips, soaked with her latest accident. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to touch the smooth fabric of the pull-up, her fingers tracing the contours of the unfamiliar material. It was a surreal sensation, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. "I... I can't believe this is happening," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to face the bizarre turn of events. "This... this can't be real." But as she looked down at the pull-up, its soft padding offering a strange comfort in her confusion, Lisa knew she could no longer deny the truth. Something extraordinary was at play. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She couldn't afford to dwell on the surreal nature of her situation, not when there were other people waiting outside for the stall. Gathering her courage, Lisa quickly checked her pants for any signs of the pull-up underneath. To her relief, there was no telltale bulge or outline that would give away her secret. It was as if the pull-up had seamlessly blended into her clothing, leaving no trace of its presence. With a silent prayer of gratitude, Lisa straightened her posture and composed herself before finally flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion and unlocking the stall door. Stepping out into the bathroom, she offered a quick apology to the other ladies waiting outside, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her earlier rudeness. "Sorry about that," she muttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she met their gaze with a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to cut in front of you like that." The other women offered polite nods in response, their expressions a mixture of annoyance and understanding. "No worries, honey," one of them said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "We've all been there before." With a sense of relief, Lisa hurriedly washed her hands, eager to put some distance between herself and the awkward encounter. As she exited the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with questions, her thoughts consumed by the inexplicable magic that seemed to be at play. How was it possible that her panties had transformed into a pull-up, seemingly of their own accord? And what did it mean for her future if such bizarre occurrences continued to unfold? As she walked, Lisa couldn't shake the uncomfortable sensation of the wet pull-up against her skin, a constant reminder of her life's surreal turn. Feeling increasingly frustrated and disgusted by the situation, Lisa couldn't help but resent the childish garment clinging to her hips. It was a humiliating symbol of the inexplicable magic that seemed to have taken hold of her life. With a deepening scowl, Lisa finally reached her desk and sank into her chair, the wet pull-up squelching beneath her with an unpleasant squish. Grimacing, she shifted uncomfortably, trying in vain to find a position that would alleviate the discomfort. But as she fidgeted in her seat, her mind raced with a single thought: she needed to figure out what was causing these bizarre occurrences. With its cryptic note and mysterious powers, the bracelet seemed to be the only explanation. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to her wrist, fingers fumbling over the smooth surface of the bracelet. She tried to slide it off, but it refused to budge as if fused to her skin. Panic rising within her, she attempted to cut it off with scissors from her desk drawer, but the metal remained unscathed as if mocking her futile efforts. Frustration boiled within her, mingling with a sense of helplessness. She was trapped, bound to this cursed bracelet with no means of escape. Each wish only seemed to entangle her further in its magic web, leaving her more powerless than ever. Desperate for answers, Lisa began to make wish after wish, each more fervent than the last. She wished for the bracelet to be removed, for knowledge about its origins, for it to disappear entirely, for it to stop meddling with her life. But with each wish, nothing changed. The bracelet remained firmly in place, keeping her captive until satisfied. Defeated, Lisa slumped back in her chair, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her with the magnitude of the situation she found herself in. How had a simple bracelet turned her life upside down in such a short amount of time? As she leaned back, on the edge of tears, "I wish I at least had a new pair of panties," she muttered under her breath, more as a desperate plea than a genuine belief in its fulfillment. With tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Lisa's whispered wish hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of her desperation for a reprieve from the chaos. As Lisa attempted to gather her composure and focus on her work, she reached into her purse for her earbuds, hoping that immersing herself in music would offer a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her. With trembling fingers, she fumbled through her bag until her fingertips brushed against something unexpected. Pulling out her hand, Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she stared at the object now nestled in her palm—a pristine pair of panties, neatly folded and seemingly untouched by the events of the day. She blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend how they had appeared in her purse as if materializing out of thin air. For a moment, Lisa questioned her sanity, her mind reeling from the inexplicable sight before her. But as she reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers tracing the delicate lace trim, she couldn't deny the reality of the situation. Somehow, her wish had been granted again, this time in a manner that defied all logic and reason. As Lisa looked around the bustling office, her heart pounding with apprehension, she couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that someone must have seen her moment of desperation, running to the bathroom. Thinking she might have leaked and needed a new pair. But as she scanned the room, her gaze darting from one face to another, she found no trace of recognition or curiosity in the eyes of her coworkers; hell, no one was even glancing her way. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisa focused on getting changed and cleaned up. Grabbing her purse, she stood up and headed towards the bathroom, knowing she needed a way to conceal the pull-up for safe disposal. She is glad to at least have a change of underwear, her mind racing with a million questions and fears. What if they think she can't control her bladder? What if she couldn't? The thought made her skin crawl with unease, a cold shiver running down her spine as she pushed open the door to the restroom. Inside, the familiar hum of running water and whispered conversations greeted her, a comforting backdrop to the chaos swirling within her mind. With practiced ease, Lisa made her way to the nearest stall; thankfully, the line had subsided, her movements brisk and efficient as she locked the door behind her and quickly shed her soiled garment. A sense of relief washed over her as she peeled off the wet pull-up. A chill ran up her body as the cool air of the restroom offered a welcome reprieve from the suffocating discomfort of the past hour. With trembling hands, Lisa hastily donned the fresh pair of panties, her fingers fumbling with the delicate lace trim as she struggled to compose herself. But as she finished dressing and prepared to leave the stall, a sudden wave of panic washed over her, the fear of discovery gripping her heart with icy fingers. What if someone saw her leaving the stall with the pull-up in her purse? The thought made her stomach churn with dread, her mind racing with a million worst-case scenarios. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa closed her purse after burying the pull-up as far down as she could. With a determined stride, she unlocked the stall door and stepped out into the restroom, her gaze sweeping the room for any sign of prying eyes. To her relief, the restroom was empty, the only sound the distant chatter from the hallway outside. With a sigh of relief, Lisa made her way to the nearest trash bin, her movements quick as she dug out the pull-up and disposed of it. But as she left the restroom, her heart skipped a beat as she collided with a familiar figure standing right outside, her eyes widening in surprise as she found herself face to face with Sarah. "Hey, Lisa!" Sarah exclaimed, her tone bright and cheerful as she offered her friend a warm smile. "Fancy running into you here. Everything okay?" For a moment, Lisa felt a surge of panic coursing through her veins, the fear of discovery threatening to overwhelm her. But with a forced smile and a casual shrug, she brushed off Sarah's concern with practiced ease, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Yeah, everything's fine," Lisa replied, her tone light and nonchalant as she sidestepped Sarah's probing gaze. "Just needed a quick break, you know how it is." Sarah nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic as she reached out to squeeze Lisa's shoulder in a gesture of support. "Of course, I get it," she said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "Well, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. I'm always here for you." "Thanks," Lisa said, her voice tinged with warmth as she met her friend's gaze. "I really appreciate it. There's been a lot going on lately that I'm honestly still working through. I could use a coffee date if you're up for it tomorrow?" "Absolutely! Text me over the details later; I'm open all day." With a final nod of gratitude, Lisa turned and headed back to her desk, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions and revelations that had unfolded throughout the day. As she settled into her chair, she couldn't shake the lingering sense of impossibility. Glancing at the clock, Lisa realized she still had a few hours left in the workday. With a determined sigh, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside her worries and distractions as she delved into her work with renewed determination. As the hours ticked by and the end of the workday drew near, Lisa's curiosity got the better of her. With a hesitant glance around the office to ensure no one was watching, she reached down to her wrist and touched the smooth surface of the bracelet, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns with a sense of trepidation. Summoning her courage, Lisa closed her eyes and made a wish, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke the words that would set the wheels of fate in motion. "I wish I didn't have to ride the bus," she murmured, her heart pounding as she awaited the inevitable response. To her surprise, the answer came swiftly and unexpectedly as a ringing phone. Startled, Lisa reached for her cell phone, her pulse quickening with anticipation as she answered the call. "Hello?" she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she held the phone to her ear. "Hey, sweetie, it's Mom," came the familiar voice on the other end of the line, warm and reassuring. "I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing." Disappointment flooded through Lisa at the sound of her mother's voice. It was great to hear from her, but she was hoping for a call about winning a car or something. Either way, her mom's call was a comforting reminder of the love and support that surrounded her. With a grateful smile, she leaned back in her chair, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she settled into the conversation with her mom. As they spoke, Lisa's mother mentioned that she was in the area and offered to give Lisa a ride home from work, sparing her the usual ordeal of navigating the crowded bus and rush-hour traffic. Grateful for the unexpected gesture, Lisa readily accepted, her heart swelling with gratitude for her mother's kindness. As she hung up the phone, she couldn't help but wonder, did her wish come true? At least she didn't have to ride the bus today, but was it just a coincidence? Meeting her mom in the office lobby, Lisa couldn't help but notice the weary lines that creased her mother's face, the sadness that lingered in her eyes. Sensing that something was amiss, Lisa hesitated momentarily before approaching the subject with her mother, her voice hesitant as she spoke. "Mom, is everything okay?" she asked, her tone filled with concern as she searched her mother's face for any sign of distress. Her mother hesitated momentarily, her gaze drifting away as if lost in thought. But then, with a heavy sigh, she finally spoke, her voice tinged with sadness and resignation, as her eyes began to tear up. "No, sweetheart, everything's not okay," she admitted, her words weighted with emotion. "Your father and I... we're having some problems. I... I left him this morning. Nothing's final, but I'm frustrated." Lisa's heart sank at her mother's words, a wave of sadness washing over her as she realized the depth of her parents' troubles. She reached out to her mother, offering a comforting hug as tears welled up in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mom," Lisa whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I had no idea things had gotten this bad. You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to, but know that I'm here for you, no matter what." Her mother returned the embrace, holding onto Lisa seeking solace in her daughter's arms. "Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice muffled against Lisa's shoulder. "I just need some time to figure things out. But it means the world to me to know that you're here for me." As Lisa and her mom walked out of the office building towards her mom's car, Lisa couldn't help but notice the trunk of her car was packed full of her belongings. Concern etched lines on Lisa's forehead as she glanced at her mom. "Mom, where are you staying?" Lisa asked gently, her voice filled with worry. Her mother sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and uncertainty clouding her expression. "I... I don't know yet," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "I just needed to get away for a while, figure things out." Lisa's heart ached for her mother, the weight of their shared troubles pressing down on her shoulders. Without hesitation, she squeezed her mom's hand, offering a silent gesture of support. "You can stay with me," Lisa blurted out before she could second-guess herself. "I mean, if you want to. My apartment isn't big, but we'll make it work." Tears welled up in her mother's eyes, gratitude shining bright amidst the uncertainty. "Oh, sweetheart, thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you." As they reached Lisa's car, her mother hesitated before turning to her with a hopeful smile. "And if you ever need a ride somewhere, just let me know. I'll be there for you." As Lisa's mom's words hung in the air, Lisa felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with a sudden, chilling realization. Could it be possible that her wish had inadvertently affected her mother's behavior? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, the weight of guilt settling heavily upon her shoulders. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Lisa replayed the events of the last two days in her mind, searching for any connection between her wishes and the events that had unfolded. It was too much of a coincidence to ignore—the timing, the circumstances, everything seemed to point to her. As her mother climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, Lisa's thoughts whirled with uncertainty and fear. What had she done? What if her wishes continued to impact the lives of those around her, causing unintended consequences and chaos? Chapter 5: Motherly Advice As Lisa and her mom drove back to Lisa's apartment, the silence between them was intense, the air thick to the point where you could cut it with a butter knife if you wanted to. Unspoken words and unresolved emotions lingering in the air. Lisa stared out the window, lost in thought, her mind still reeling from the realization that her wishes might be affecting those around her. Her mom glanced over at Lisa, concern etched on her face. "You've been quiet, sweetheart. Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice gentle. Lisa blinked, gazing away at the passing scenery to meet her mother's worried eyes. "Yeah, Mom, everything's fine," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her mother studied her for a moment as if trying to decipher the truth hidden behind Lisa's facade, but ultimately, she sighed and returned her attention to the road. "Alright, sweetheart, if you say so," she said, her tone tinged with disappointment. Lisa's heart twisted with guilt at the hurt evident in her mother's voice, but she couldn't bring herself to confide in her just yet. Not when she didn't fully understand the extent of the situation herself. As they pulled into the parking lot of Lisa's apartment building, Lisa felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She glanced over at her mother, her heart heavy with the burden of her secret. How could she explain what was happening without sounding crazy? "Thanks for the ride, Mom," Lisa said softly as they stepped out of the car, her eyes avoiding her mother's concerned gaze. Her mother frowned, sensing Lisa's unease. "Are you sure everything's alright, Lisa?" she asked, reaching for her daughter's hand. Lisa forced a reassuring smile, the weight of her guilt threatening to crush her. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just a lot on my mind lately, you know?" she replied, her voice tight with emotion. Her mother's expression softened with understanding, but Lisa could see the worry lingering in her eyes. "Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, you know I'm here for you, right?" her mother said, her voice filled with love and concern. Lisa nodded, her throat tight with unshed tears. "Thanks. I appreciate it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. As they made their way to Lisa's apartment, her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. How could she fix the situation with her parents? Would a wish fix it? The thought of her mother being affected by her wishes filled Lisa with a sickening dread. Once inside her apartment, Lisa helped her mother carry in a few bags of clothes, among other things, her movements distracted as she tried to push aside her mounting anxiety. But as they set the bags down in the living room, a sudden urge gripped Lisa "Shit..." she cursed under her breath as she stumbled backward, nearly dropping the bags she was holding. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm, concern etched on her face. "Lisa, what happened? Are you okay?" she asked, rushing to her daughter's side, concern etched on her face, Lisa forced a tight-lipped smile, her mind racing with panic. "I-I'm fine, just need to use the bathroom," she stammered, her voice strained with the effort of holding back her urgency. Without waiting for a response, Lisa hastily set down the bags and bolted towards the bathroom, her hand pressed tightly between her legs as she fought to maintain control. Her mother's worried gaze followed her daughter's frantic movements, her heart twisting with concern at the sight of Lisa's obvious distress. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her bladder screamed for release, a hot wave of pressure coursing through her body. With a shaky exhale of relief, Lisa pushed open the door and stumbled into the bathroom, her legs shaking with the effort of holding back her impending accident. Her mother hovered anxiously in the hallway, her eyes wide with concern as she watched her daughter's desperate dash to the toilet. With a frantic whimper, Lisa reached the toilet just in time, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her desperate need to pee. With a shuddering sigh of relief, she collapsed onto the seat, her bladder releasing a torrent of pent-up pressure. Hisssssss..... Outside the bathroom, Lisa's mother stood frozen in place, her heart heavy with worry as she listened to the sound of her daughter's desperate relief. There were no signs she had to pee that bad. Did she even know she had to go that bad? Her mom thought, worried about the health and well-being of her daughter. As Lisa sat on the toilet, her mind raced with a whirlwind of confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden urges to pee? It felt like her body was betraying her at the worst possible time, given the weird magic with the pull-ups appearing when she pees herself. After a few moments, Lisa managed to compose herself enough to stand up and flush the toilet. She washed her hands, her mind still reeling from the recent events. When she opened the bathroom door, her mother was waiting outside, her expression a mix of concern and confusion. "Are you... okay? That was quite a close call," her mother said, her voice gentle yet probing. Lisa tried to brush off her mother's concern, a faint blush tinting her cheeks with embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just got caught up in bringing the stuff in and didn't realize how bad I needed to go," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother, however, wasn't buying it. "Honey, that was more than just getting distracted. Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm. Lisa shifted uncomfortably, her mind racing for a plausible explanation. "It's nothing, Mom, really. Just a one-off thing," she insisted, avoiding her mother's probing gaze. Her mother sighed, placing a comforting hand on Lisa's shoulder. "Sweetheart, this isn't the first time something like this has happened, is it?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. Lisa's cheeks burned with shame as she shook her head, unable to meet her mother's gaze. "No, it's not," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Lisa's mother's brow furrowed with worry. "That isn't normal, honey. How long has this been happening?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. Lisa hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. "It's been... a couple of days," she admitted, her voice barely audible. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm. "A couple of days!? We need to get you to a doctor," she exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency. Lisa's heart sank at the thought of having to explain everything to a doctor. "I-I don't think it's necessary, Mom. It's probably just stress or something," she stammered, her voice tinged with desperation; how could she possibly admit to having a toddler's bladder issue as an adult to another person? Her mother shook her head, her expression firm. "No, Lisa, this could be something serious. We need to get you checked out," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a heavy sigh, she nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Okay, Mom. I'll go to the walk-in later," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother's expression softened, her worry evident in her eyes. "Okay, just promise me you'll take care of yourself, alright?" she said, reassuringly squeezing Lisa's shoulder. Lisa forced a smile, grateful for her mother's understanding. "I will, I promise," she said, her voice steadier now. With a nod, her mother released Lisa's shoulder and turned towards the door. "Alright, well, let's get the rest of these bags in, shall we?" she said, her tone lightening as she tried to change the subject. Lisa nodded, relieved by the change in topic. "Yeah, sounds good. And hey, how about we order takeout for dinner tonight? My treat," she suggested, hoping to distract her mother from pressing the issue further. Her mother smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. I could go for some Chinese food. What do you think?" she asked, her enthusiasm contagious. Lisa grinned, grateful for her mother's easy acceptance. "Chinese it is, then. I'll go grab the menus, and we can decide what to get," she said, heading towards the kitchen. As they settled on their dinner choices, the tension that had filled the apartment dissipated, replaced by a sense of normalcy that was comforting to both. They spent the evening enjoying their meal and catching up on each other's lives, the earlier events pushed to the back of their minds, at least for the time being. As the night wore on, Lisa and her mother finished their dinner and settled into a comfortable routine to end the night. They chatted about mundane things, and eventually, it was time for bed. "Goodnight, Mom," Lisa said, warmly hugging her mother. "Thanks for the ride today." "Goodnight, sweetheart," her mother replied, returning the hug. "Any time, honey, consider me your personal driver for now. haha!" Her mother laughed jokingly. With a concerned smirk, Lisa watched as her mother went to the couch, where she would sleep for the night. Once her mother was settled, Lisa headed to her own bedroom, feeling mixed emotions. Was my wish the cause of my mom's separation? On her way to her bedroom, Lisa passed by the bathroom and decided she should head there first, hoping to relieve herself before bed, even though she didn't feel the need to go. Luckily, to her surprise, she ended up peeing a ton from all of the fluids she had since having dinner. "Thank GOD! I better not need to pee so badly in the morning." Relieved, Lisa got up and headed to bed, the day's events weighing heavily on her. She lay awake for hours, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted to sleep. Chapter 6: Nosy Mother With a groan, Lisa slowly blinked her eyes open, feeling surprisingly refreshed despite her troubled dreams. She stretched languidly, relishing the warmth of her bed for a few moments before reality came crashing back. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, preparing to start her day, a sudden, urgent pressure gripped her bladder, causing her to freeze mid-stretch. Frustration and confusion warred within her as she realized she had just gone to the bathroom before bed and shouldn't be feeling such a strong urge to pee so soon. "Damnit," She cursed under her breath; she quickly scrambled to her feet, her muscles protesting the abrupt movement. She hurried out of her bedroom, intent on reaching the bathroom before it was too late. As she rushed down the hallway, the noise of her footsteps echoing in the early morning silence, she inadvertently woke her mother, who had been sleeping on the couch. Her mother stirred, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she sat up, concern etching lines of worry on her face. She watched Lisa disappear into the bathroom, her heart heavy with unspoken questions. She knew something was wrong, but she also knew that Lisa wasn't ready to talk about it yet. As Lisa closed the bathroom door behind her, she let out a frustrated sigh, her mind racing with confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden, uncontrollable urges to pee? Lisa's heart pounded in her chest as she ran towards the toilet, her hand shaky for her worry of wetting herself again. With a desperate attempt, she grabbed the toilet seat to lift its lid, only for her worst fears to be realized. Hiissssss The pressure in her bladder had reached its breaking point, and before she could even get the seat up, she felt her body betray her, releasing a torrent of urine. Shame washed over her as she stood there, helplessly wetting herself, a pull-up miraculously appearing, absorbing the mess, leaving her pajama pants dry. With a defeated gasp, Lisa collapsed onto the tiled bathroom floor, feeling the soaked pull-up under her butt, bulky from absorbing all of her pee. There she sat next to the toilet, tears welling up in her eyes as frustration and embarrassment overwhelmed her. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling utterly defeated by her body's betrayal yet again. The cool tiles starkly contrasted the warmth and wetness between her legs. Tears running down her cheeks as she realized the extent of her predicament. She was a grown woman, yet here she was, wearing a wet pull-up like a toddler. "Why does this keep happening to me?" she cried, her voice trembling. "It's not fair!" The sound of her voice echoed in the small bathroom, mixing with the soft hum of the ventilation fan overhead. When Lisa's mom heard her daughter cry out from the bathroom, she got up to check on her. "I'm too old for this," Lisa muttered bitterly, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Her mother knocked softly on the door, concern evident in her voice. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Lisa wiped her tears and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm fine, Mom. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" She heard her mother's footsteps recede down the hallway, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She knew she couldn't keep hiding this from her mother, but she also didn't know how to explain what was happening to her. Lisa pushed herself up from the floor, her legs feeling weak and unsteady. She stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the weight of the sodden pull-up between her legs. With a shaky breath, she reached down and removed her pajama pants, revealing the bulky garment. Tears continued to flow from her eyes as she stripped off the pull-up, the cold air of the bathroom meeting her damp skin. She balled it up, a sense of shame washing over her as she tossed it into the trash can with a soft thud echoing in the small bathroom. Lisa quickly pulled her pajama pants back on, the fabric feeling soft and clingy against her skin. She hurried back to her room, her mind racing about how to handle the situation. She searched her dresser for a clean change of clothes and realized she needed to get laundry done; she only had two pairs of clean underwear left. Grabbing one of them, she rushed back out of her room towards the bathroom to shower and remove the smell of pee before speaking with her mom next. However, she was too late; as she approached the bathroom door, she was stunned to see it was already closed and locked from her mother going in there while she grabbed her clothes. *** Lisa's mom, Carol, stood outside the closed bathroom door. Concern for her daughter mingled with a growing sense of unease as she tried to make sense of the situation. She had heard Lisa's cries, and her instinct as a mother told her that something was seriously wrong. "I'm too old for this," she heard Lisa mutter. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Carol hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob as she tried to process Lisa's words. Pull-ups? Why would Lisa be talking about wearing pull-ups? The confusion only added to Carol's growing concern, as she gently knocked on the door. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Carol called through the door, her voice laced with worry. There was a moment of silence before Lisa responded, her voice strained. "I'm fine, Mom, Just... just give me a minute, okay?" Carol hesitated, torn between respecting her daughter's privacy and wanting to comfort her. Ultimately, she decided to give Lisa the space she needed and stepped back from the door. As she waited outside the bathroom, Carol's mind raced with questions. What does she mean she is too old for this? Too old for what? Was she really wearing a pull-up? Before Carol could dwell on these thoughts any longer, she heard the sound of the bathroom door unlocking, followed by the soft click of its opening. Lisa stood in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. Carol's heart broke at the sight of her daughter's anguish, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. But before Carol could say anything, Lisa rushed off to her room. Carol watched her daughter retreat down the hallway, a sense of helplessness washing over her. She knew she couldn't force Lisa to talk if she wasn't ready, but that didn't make it any easier to stand idly by while her daughter suffered. With a heavy sigh, Carol stepped into the bathroom, locking it behind her. Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of what had caused Lisa's distress. The air was thick with the scent of urine, and Carol wrinkled her nose in distaste as she made her way further into the room. Her gaze landed on the trash can near the sink, and her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the crumpled pull-up lying discarded inside. Carol's breath caught in her throat as she reached for the pull-up, her fingers trembling with disbelief. She lifted the pull-up from the trash can, her eyes widening in shock as she took in its sodden state. Clearly, this wasn't just a one-time accident; there were already two in the can. Lisa must have been wearing pull-ups for some time now. Why didn't she tell her mother? Have they grown more distant than she thought? Carol searched the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling with questions. She opened cabinets and drawers, looking for any sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa was using. But to her confusion, she found nothing. As Carol stood in the bathroom, her mind reeling with unanswered questions, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease settling in her stomach. She glanced around the room, her eyes scanning every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. But the bathroom offered no answers, only the lingering scent of urine. Her heart heavy with concern, Carol carefully placed the pull-up back into the trash can, her thoughts consumed by worry for her daughter. Lisa had always been independent and resilient, but seeing her distressed was tearing at Carol's maternal instincts. With a heavy sigh, Carol turned to leave the bathroom, her mind still racing about how to approach Lisa about what she had discovered. But before she could take a step, a sudden knock at the door startled her, causing her to jump in surprise. "Mom, are you almost done in there?" Lisa's voice came from the other side of the door, tinged with impatience. "I really need to take a shower." Carol's heart sank at the sound of Lisa's voice, the defeated tone in her voice only added to Carol's growing sense of worry. She had been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn't even considered how her actions might affect Lisa. Now, feeling guilty for being the cause of slowing down Lisa's efforts to clean herself up from her accident this morning. "Sorry, sweetie, I'll be out in just a minute," Carol replied, her voice strained with emotion. She quickly moved to the toilet, her need to pee still present. As Carol relieved herself, her mind raced with thoughts of how to handle the situation with Lisa. She knew she needed to talk to her daughter about what she had discovered, but she also didn't want to invade Lisa's privacy or make her feel ashamed. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Carol finished her business and flushed the toilet, her thoughts still in turmoil as she washed her hands. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for the difficult conversation ahead, before finally opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. Lisa was waiting just outside the bathroom, her expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment as she watched her mother emerge. Carol's heart ached at seeing her daughter's troubled face, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry for taking so long, sweetie," Carol said softly, gently touching Lisa's arm. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting." Lisa forced a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's okay, Mom. I just really need to take a shower." Carol nodded understandingly, stepping aside to let Lisa pass. As her daughter disappeared into the bathroom, Carol couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she couldn't avoid the conversation they needed to have, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for Lisa than they already were. Unsatisfied with the answers she had found so far, Carol turned to Lisa's room. As Carol entered Lisa's room, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. She felt conflicted; she didn't want to invade her daughter's privacy, but she knew she needed to find some answers. With a heavy heart, she began to search the room, careful not to disturb anything from where it was. Her eyes scanned every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. As she opened drawers and checked closets, Carol's heart sank further. There was no sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa had been using, and only one pair of clean underwear was left in her daughter's drawer. Carol felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she concluded that Lisa must have been struggling with her bladder for a while now. With a sigh, Carol closed the drawer and turned to leave the room, her mind still racing with unanswered questions. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about what was happening, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for her daughter than they already were. She just wanted to reassure her that it was alright and that she would be there for her. *** As Lisa stepped into the bathroom, a knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach. She couldn't shake the worry that her mother had seen the pull-ups in the trash. The thought made her heart race with panic, but she quickly pushed it aside, telling herself she was overthinking things. With trembling hands, Lisa quickly stripped off her pajamas and stepped into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water cascaded over her body, washing away the physical evidence of her embarrassment. As she stood under the spray, lost in her thoughts, Lisa's phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, startling her out of her thoughts. Confused, she reached for it, her fingers struggling to unlock the screen from the shower's steam. A text from Craig flashed across the display, and Lisa's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name. Despite everything that had happened, his message brought a small glimmer of comfort to her troubled mind. "Hey, babe. Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. I know work has been crazy lately, but I'm here for you, okay? Let me know if you need anything. Love you ❤️" Tears pricked at the corners of Lisa's eyes as she read Craig's words. Despite the chaos around her, his unwavering support was a beacon of hope in the darkness. With a watery smile, Lisa quickly typed a reply, her thumbs flying across the screen. "Thanks, Craig. I really appreciate it. I've just been really busy lately and barely hit my deadline on Friday. But knowing you're there for me means the world. Love you too ❤️" As she hit send, a sense of relief washed over her. No matter the challenges, she knew she had people around her who cared about her. Craig, Sarah, and Mom would all be there for her. Even with that reassurance, Lisa felt a small pit in her stomach as she thought about what had happened with her mom and dad. Even if they are there for her now, what happens if she makes a foolish wish that ruins their life? Could she live with herself if that were to happen? Lisa pushed off her worries for now. She finished drying off, getting dressed in a checkered black and white skirt, a pair of nylons, and a white blouse with a jacket over the top. As she dressed, she couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety about meeting Sarah and revealing the truth about the magic bracelet. But she knew she needed to confide in her friend; she couldn't keep this secret to herself. Sarah was the perfect person to confide in. Sarah had always been a good listener and had a knack for offering practical advice. With a deep breath, Lisa grabbed her phone and sent Sarah a text message asking her to meet at a local coffee shop. She hoped that Sarah would be able to help her navigate the chaos that had become her life ever since she had received the bracelet. As Lisa exited the bathroom, her heart raced with the fear of encountering her mother, her mind still reeling from the morning's events. She clutched the trash can tightly, determined to dispose of the evidence of her accidents before her mom could find them. She didn't want anything else to complicate her already chaotic situation. However, as she made her way down the hallway, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible, Lisa froze in her tracks as she heard her mother's voice from the living room. "Lisa, honey, wait." Carol's gentle tone sent a shiver down Lisa's spine, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She couldn't face her mother right now, not with the shame of her secret weighing heavily in her hand in the trash can. But before Lisa could retreat outside to dispose of the evidence, Carol appeared in the hallway, her expression a mix of concern and confusion as she approached her daughter. "Sweetie, are you okay?" Carol asked, her voice soft and gentle. "I saw you rush into the bathroom earlier in a hurry, and... well, I just want to make sure you're alright?" Lisa's heart clenched at the worry in her mother's eyes, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. She couldn't bear to lie to her mother, not when she had always been there for her, but she also couldn't bring herself to admit the truth about the magic bracelet. "I'm fine, Mom," Lisa replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside her. "Just... you know, when you gotta go, you gotta go." Carol studied her daughter's face for a moment, her brow furrowed with concern, before nodding slowly. "Alright, if you say so, sweetie," she said, though her voice was tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe try going before going to bed next time. haha," She laughed, trying to joke and lighten the mood. Lisa's face blushed a slightly brighter red. "Yeah, I tried that last night, but it didn't work as well as I hoped. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so bad when I woke up. haha," Lisa tried joking back in hopes of keeping her mom off the trail of what was really going on. As if this was a totally normal thing for her to deal with. "Right?! I guess I can relate to that." Carol replied, trying to ease up the embarrassment she saw she was indirectly causing. "Are you taking out the trash?" she asked, her curiosity piqued, trying to change the subject. Lisa's cheeks now burned with embarrassment as she realized she had been caught in the act. "Uh, yeah," she stammered, her mind racing for an excuse. "I... I just noticed it was getting full, so I thought I'd take care of it." "Do you mind taking out this bag with you? I would have done it sooner, but I didn't know where the bins are here," she said, pointing to the bag she had from the day before, leaning up against the door. "Sure, I can do that," Lisa replied, quickly grabbing the bag and trying to run out the door before her mom could see what was in the trash bin in her hand. "Is there anything you need, sweetie? I was about to head out to the store, so if you need anything, just let me know." Carol asked her daughter, curious if she would admit to needing more pull-ups. Lisa's heart skipped a beat, worried her mom might have seen the pull-ups and assumed she needed more. "Uh, no, Mom, I'm good," she replied quickly, her mind racing for an excuse. "But... um, actually, I was planning to meet Sarah for coffee later. Do you think you could give me a ride?" Carol's expression was soft, nodding with a smile. "Of course, sweetie," she said. "I'd be happy to give you a ride. Just let me know when you're ready to go, okay?" Lisa's heart swelled with gratitude for her mother's support. "Thanks, Mom," she said, her voice lighter than before, as she felt a weight removed, hoping things were more normal. "You're the best." With a final smile, Carol turned and headed back to the living room, leaving Lisa alone in the hallway with a sense of relief washing over her. She knew she couldn't keep hiding the truth from her mother forever, but for now, she was grateful for the chance to spend time with her friend and get the trash out before her mom could try to confront her about the pull-ups. Chapter 7: Coffee Date The coffee shop came into view as Carol's car pulled up to the curb. People were bustling in and out of the coffee shop, seemingly in a hurry to get wherever they were going. Lisa's stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation as she glanced out the window. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation she knew she was about to have. As the car came to a stop, Lisa started to exit the car; Carol's gentle voice interrupted her, concern etched in every line of her face. "Are you sure you don't need anything from the store? I can pick up anything you might need?" Carol's offer carried a note of worry, her hope that her daughter would open up about her needs. Lisa forced a smile, trying to reassure her mother. "No, Mom, I'm good, really. I have everything I need." But before she can fully step out, Carol's concern spills over into another question, one Lisa had hoped to avoid. "When are you planning on seeing the doctor? It has me worried about you." Lisa felt a pang of defensiveness rise within her. It's not that she doesn't appreciate her mother's concern; it's just that she's too embarrassed about the situation to want to bring it up with someone else. She hardly wanted to talk to Sarah about it, but they'd been best friends for years now, and the number of times she's had to help Sarah get home after getting too tipsy at a club and wetting herself, she knew Sarah would be the last person to judge her about this situation. "I'll get to it, Mom, I promise," Lisa replies, trying to strike a balance between reassurance and deflection. "But honestly, I'm feeling fine today. Really." Carol's worry hardly dissipates, but she nods reluctantly, knowing when her daughter is putting up walls. "Okay, honey. I'm here for you if you need anything." Lisa nods, offering another weak smile before finally leaving the car. As she watches Carol drive away, she can't shake the guilt that twists in her gut. She knows her mother only wants to help her, but opening up about the reality of her situation is a hurdle she's not quite ready to jump yet, at least not with her mom. As Lisa stepped into the coffee shop, she scanned the area and spotted Sarah sitting at their usual table near a window at the front of the shop, a warm smile on her face. Lisa felt a sense of relief wash over her; Sarah's presence always brought comfort, especially in times of uncertainty. Approaching the table, Lisa noticed that Sarah had already ordered her favorite coffee—a small gesture that meant more to her than she could express. "Hey, Sarah," Lisa greeted her friend with a grateful smile as she took a seat opposite her. "Hey, Lisa! I got your usual, hope that's alright," Sarah said, sliding the cup across the table. "How's your day been so far?" Taking a sip of her coffee, Lisa sighed, feeling the tension of the day slowly melting away. "It's been... eventful, to say the least," she replied, her thoughts briefly flickering back to her urgent need for the bathroom this morning and the pull-ups she ended up throwing out after having another accident. Sarah raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to Lisa's day than she was letting on, but she decided not to press, as she seemed a little distressed. "Well, you made it through the week in one piece. That's always a win," she remarked with a playful grin. "Yeah, barely," Lisa chuckled, grateful for Sarah's light-hearted approach. "Any exciting plans for the weekend?" The two friends engaged in some light small talk while sipping away at their favorite drinks. Discussing their respective Fridays and plans for the weekend. Sarah mentioned a new movie that was coming out and suggested they go see it together. "That sounds like fun! I'd love to see it with you," Lisa said, genuinely looking forward to spending more time with her friend. Sarah, ever perceptive, remembered seeing Carol was the one to drop her off. "We should look at show times later. I also noticed that your mom dropped you off today. Is everything okay with her?" she asked gently, her eyes filled with concern. Lisa hesitated, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should she tell Sarah about the bracelet and its wishes? Would Sarah even believe her? She knew how crazy it all sounded, and the last thing she wanted was for Sarah to think she had lost her mind. As she debated internally, Sarah's voice broke through her thoughts. "Lisa, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you, no matter what." Taking a deep breath, Lisa weighed her options. On one hand, keeping everything bottled up inside was taking its toll on her mental health, and she longed for someone to confide in. On the other hand, the risk of rejection and judgment was almost too much to bear. Sarah's concerned gaze met Lisa's, and she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her. Maybe, just maybe, Sarah would understand. Maybe she'd even believe her. "I... I don't even know where to begin," Lisa started, her voice barely above a whisper. She fidgeted with her coffee cup, unable to meet Sarah's gaze. Sarah reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Lisa's trembling fingers. "You can tell me anything, Lisa. I'm here for you." The words hung in the air, heavy with promise and acceptance. With a shaky breath, Lisa mustered the courage to speak, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I know this is going to sound absolutely insane, but... but something bizarre has been happening to me lately," she began, her voice gaining strength with each word. "I... I've been making these... wishes, and they've been coming true. It's like magic or something, I don't know." She braced herself for Sarah's reaction, steeling herself for disbelief or mockery. But to her surprise, Sarah simply nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Go on," Sarah encouraged, her tone gentle yet unwavering. Lisa began recounting the events of the past few days—the mysterious package, the bracelet, the note. "It grants wishes, but not in the way you'd expect," Lisa explained, trying to find the right words to describe the inexplicable nature of the bracelet's powers. "I didn't believe it at first. I only put it on in the first place because I thought it was cute, but then... things started happening." She explained her experiences with the bracelet, from her wishing to no longer need to ride the bus and how her mom called shortly after, only to find out her mom and dad were separating. Sarah listened intently, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief at the news about Lisa's parents. As Sarah listened to Lisa's recounting of the events surrounding the mysterious bracelet, her initial expression of shock slowly transitioned into a more skeptical demeanor. She furrowed her brows, processing the information, but there was a glimmer of concern underlying her reaction. "I don't know, Lisa," Sarah starts cautiously, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, it's definitely... a strange coincidence, but... magic bracelets? That's a bit... out there, don't you think?" Lisa's heart sinks as she registers Sarah's disbelief. She had hoped that confiding in her friend would provide some relief, but instead, she feels a sense of isolation deepen within her. She opens her mouth to protest, to insist that it's all true, but Sarah's next words catch her off guard. "I'm really sorry to hear about your mom, Lisa," Sarah says, her tone softening with genuine sympathy. "That's a lot to deal with, especially on top of everything else you've been going through." Lisa's breath catches in her throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Th-thanks," Lisa manages to choke out, her voice wavering with emotion. "It's been... rough, I... I just don't know how to process what is going on right now." Sarah nods understandingly, reaching across the table to squeeze Lisa's hand in a comforting gesture. "I can only imagine," she murmurs, her gaze filled with compassion. As the weight of the conversation hangs heavy in the air, Lisa wrestles with the urge to divulge the full extent of the bracelet's powers. She knows it sounds absurd, even to her own ears, but a part of her longs for Sarah to believe her, to validate her and the events happening to her. Before she can gather the courage to speak. However, a sudden pressure builds in her bladder, cutting through her thoughts with urgent intensity. Panic floods her senses as she realizes she's moments away from having another accident. "I... I need to use the bathroom," Lisa blurted out, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry, I'll be right back." Sarah's concern flared anew at Lisa's abrupt announcement, her brows knitting together in worry. "Are you okay? You seem... flustered." Lisa shook her head, her mind racing with anxiety. "I'll explain everything, I promise. Just... just give me a minute." Without waiting for Sarah's response, Lisa rose from her seat, her heart pounding. She knew she had to do something to prove the bracelet's magic to Sarah, to make her believe. Then, suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She was about to have an accident, which meant her underwear would change into a pull-up again. She could show Sarah her underwear and then have an accident, and they'll transform. Sarah would have to believe her at that point! "Come with me," Lisa urged, her voice tinged with urgency. "I'll show you." Confusion flickered across Sarah's features, but she rose from her seat nonetheless, her concern for Lisa outweighing her bewilderment. "Okay?" As they made their way to the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, her determination bolstered by the knowledge that she was about to reveal the truth to Sarah. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that Sarah might still doubt her even after witnessing the bracelet's magic firsthand. But she couldn't let that stop her. She had to make Sarah understand, to believe her. Pushing open the door to the bathroom, Lisa gestured for Sarah to follow her inside. "Watch," she instructed, her voice tinged with excitement and trepidation. "I'll prove it's not just random coincidences." Lisa's heart pounded as she led Sarah into the bathroom, her mind racing with the gravity of what she was about to reveal. She could feel Sarah's skeptical and confused gaze burning into the back of her head, but she refused to let doubt cloud her determination. As they entered the bathroom, Lisa's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hem of her skirt. With a deep breath, she lifted it up, exposing her panties to Sarah's bewildered gaze. "Look," Lisa urged, her voice tight with urgency. "I'm not crazy. My underwear will turn into a pull-up if I... if I..." Her words trailed off as panic surged through her, her bladder protesting with increasing urgency. Desperately, she tried to hold back the inevitable, her muscles straining against the overwhelming pressure. As Lisa stood there, her eyes squeezed shut in a mix of desperation and embarrassment, Sarah's expression shifted from confusion to shock. "Lisa, what are you doing? Use the toilet!" Sarah's voice was filled with a mix of disbelief and worry as she took a step closer, reaching out as if to offer support. "I-I'm sorry," Lisa stammered, her voice strained with effort. "I just... I need you to believe me. Please, just watch." With a deep breath, Lisa forced herself to relax, letting go of the last shreds of control she had over her bladder. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of urine hitting the floor and pooling below her. Nothing happened. There was no magical transformation, no pull-up appearing to save her from the humiliating accident she had just experienced. Instead, Lisa felt the warm, wet sensation spreading down her legs, the sign of the bracelet's magic taunting her. Why didn't it work? Her eyes snapped open in horror, tears welling up as she looked down at the puddle forming at her feet. She had hoped that the bracelet's magic would somehow prove her right, but all it had done was leave her feeling stupid, foolish, and extremely embarrassed in front of her closest friend. Sarah's gasp of shock was the only sound in the bathroom as she took in the scene before her. She could hardly believe what she was seeing, her mind struggling to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding in front of her. "L-Lisa... what just happened?" Sarah's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with disbelief. Lisa could only hang her head in defeat, unable to find the words to explain. She felt a wave of shame wash over her, knowing that she had proven nothing and now probably seemed even crazier to Sarah than before. Now, feeling like she had just lost all sense of reality. "I-I'm so sorry, Sarah," Lisa choked out, her voice trembling with emotion. "I thought... I just thought if you saw it, you'd believe me about the bracelet. But I was wrong. I was so wrong." Sarah's expression softened with genuine concern as she stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch Lisa's trembling shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," she said, her voice filled with compassion. "Accidents happen, you know? I mean, how many times did you help me out at the club?" But despite Sarah's words of comfort, Lisa couldn't shake the crushing weight of her embarrassment. She felt like a total idiot for doing this on purpose in front of someone. Why didn't she think of a better way to prove the bracelet's magic? With a shaky breath, she stepped back from the puddle to see the damage that was done. "I... I think I just need a moment," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. Sarah nodded understandingly, her concern etched in every line of her face. "Of course, take all the time you need. I'll be right outside if you need anything." Sarah quietly exited the bathroom, leaving Lisa alone with her shame. Lisa sat down, wondering if she could ever face her friend again. The weight of her humiliation threatened to overwhelm her with tears. How could she even bring herself to step out and face Sarah again? Chapter 8: Shopping As Carol navigated the familiar streets to the store, her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Lisa. She couldn't shake the worry that lingered since her daughter had started acting strangely, especially after finding those pull-ups in the trash. Pulling into the grocery store's parking lot, Carol grabbed her list and headed inside. The store was bustling with activity, shoppers weaving in and out of aisles, their carts filled with the week's necessities. Carol couldn't help but overhear bits of conversation from nearby shoppers as she wandered through the aisles. Seeing one little girl ask her mom to use the potty while doing a potty dance only exaggerated her thoughts about Lisa and her close calls. Pushing her cart along, Carol collected different items on her list, her thoughts drifting back to Lisa. She had always been a bit of a worrier, but lately, it seemed like something more was weighing on her daughter. Carol glanced down at her list, her eyes catching on the item with a question mark next to it: "Pull-ups?" She furrowed her brow, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach as she considered the implications. Should she really be contemplating buying pull-ups for Lisa? Would that be crossing a line? Would Lisa appreciate the fact she didn't have to ask? With a sigh, Carol pushed her cart forward, weaving through the bustling aisles of the grocery store. As she passed by the baby care section, she couldn't help but steal a glance at the pull-up packages on the shelves. She scanned them, trying to match the design she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. There were dozens of different styles and brands. But it had to be here somewhere. The ones in the trash were rather childish, nothing like a grown-up would wear or what you could get at the pharmacy. Carol's steps slowed as she approached the baby care section, her eyes scanning the shelves for any hint of familiarity. She felt a pang of guilt for even considering buying pull-ups for Lisa without her consent. But the worry gnawing at her heart was too strong to ignore. She began to sift through the various packages, her eyes tracing over the different designs and sizes. None of them seemed to match what she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. She let out a frustrated sigh, feeling lost in a sea of unfamiliar products. "Excuse me, ma'am, can I help you find something?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. Carol looked up to see a store employee with a friendly smile. "Oh, um, yes, I'm looking for pull-ups," Carol replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. The employee nodded. "Sure, what size are you looking for?" Carol hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She didn't want to reveal too much about her daughter's situation to a stranger. "Um, I'm not exactly sure. I think for some older kids?" The employee nodded understandingly and led Carol to a different section of the aisle, where the bedwetting pull-ups were stored. Carol's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. How had Lisa ended up needing pull-ups? Was it a medical issue? Or was there something else going on that she didn't know about? With a heavy heart, Carol thanked the employee for the help. Staring at the package of the same pull-ups she saw in the trash, she felt torn. Should she pick them up? It seemed like Lisa was out of them at home, or at least she couldn't find any of them. Would buying them only embarrass Lisa more? Carol shook her head, trying to push aside her growing concern. She continued down the aisles, methodically ticking off the remaining items from her list, but her mind kept returning to Lisa and the pull-ups. Maybe she should pick them up just in case? The worst case scenario is she totally misread the situation and can just return them, and the two of them will laugh about this one day. Torn, Carol returned to the baby care aisle, selected a package that seemed to match the ones she had seen at home. Finally, with her cart filled and her list completed, Carol made her way to the checkout counter. As she waited in line, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was invading her daughter's privacy in a way she never had before. She began to unload her groceries onto the conveyor belt. But she couldn't shake feeling embarrassed for her daughter as she placed the package of overnight pull-ups on the belt. Her cheeks blushed lightly at the thought that she was buying these for her adult daughter. As Carol finished placing the last of her items on the belt she felt her phone buzz in her purse. She fished it out and saw a message from Sarah, Lisa's close friend. The message caught her off guard, and she quickly glanced around to ensure no one was looking over her shoulder as she read it, briefly looking at the pack of pull-ups before opening the text. "Hey Carol, wanted to give you a heads up. I'm gonna take Lisa over to my place for a bit, and then we're gonna catch a movie. So don't wait up for us, I'll drop her off at home later. Let us know if you need anything." Carol's heart skipped a beat with relief as she read the message. She felt slightly concerned for her daughter, for not being able to get her to the doctor today; feeling she should have been more adamant about it. But it is nice to hear Lisa is getting some girl time in. Carol quickly sent a thumbs-up emoji, and paid for her items brushing off the embarrassment about buying pull-ups. She doesn't have to have a direct conversation with Lisa about them now, or at least for a little while. Carol drove back to the apartment. On the drive, she began to think about what she should do with the pack of pull-ups. Should she leave it on the table for them to talk about when she gets home? No. That would be a bad idea, what if Sarah comes in to chat? Then, it would be on full display. What about her bedroom? Sarah wasn't likely to go in there. But what if Lisa brings back a guy? It would be a little awkward with her mom there, but it would be even worse if he saw a pack of bedwetting diapers on her bed. Then, it struck her. Duh, I can just leave them in her underwear drawer. No guy will go in there unless he is a creep, and if that's the case then they aren't meant to be anyway. When she arrived home, Carol rushed to bring in everything. As Carol brought the groceries inside, she couldn't shake off the weight of concern that had settled in her chest since finding those pull-ups in the trash. She made multiple trips from the car to the apartment, each time feeling the pull of worry tugging at her thoughts. Finally, with everything brought in, Carol began sorting through the bags to find the pull-ups. She located them nestled among the groceries and pulled them out, feeling a sense of apprehension. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about them, but the right opportunity hadn't presented itself yet. With the package of pull-ups in hand, Carol made her way towards Lisa's room. She hesitated at the doorway, her mind racing with uncertainties. How would Lisa react to finding them? Would she be upset? Embarrassed? Would she even understand why Carol had bought them? Pushing aside her doubts, Carol stepped into Lisa's room and began searching through her stuff again, hoping to find a pack of pull-ups that were just well hidden. But no matter how hard she tried, she kept coming up empty-handed. She even pulled out the drawers to see if Lisa had hidden them behind the drawers but turned up nothing. Where was she keeping them? After a lot of rummaging, she finally gave up, opting to leave the pull-ups – tucked away in Lisa's underwear drawer. It seemed like the most discreet option, ensuring they would be there when Lisa needed them without drawing unnecessary attention. As Carol placed the package in the drawer, her fingers brushed against something else – a small box containing a note. Curiosity piqued, she picked up the box and examined its contents. The note inside caught her eye, and she read it over carefully, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Is this some kind of joke?" Carol muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. The idea of a magical bracelet granting wishes seemed too absurd to be true. Without giving it a second thought, she left Lisa's room in a state close to its original so as not to raise suspicion. Chapter 9: What are Friends for? As Lisa gingerly inspected her skirt, relief flooded her when she realized the fabric hadn't visibly betrayed her humiliating accident. With a shaky sigh, she began to peel off her wet underwear, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the mess she had made. Not wanting to stay in urine-soaked underwear or have any way to carry them out of the bathroom without it being clearly visible, Lisa opted to dispose of the soiled garment. Lisa grabbed some paper towels, used them to dry off her legs, and tossed several on the floor to help mop up the puddle she had created. Not wanting to leave a mess for the staff to clean. She quickly used her feet to mop up the evidence of her mishap the best she could before she disposed of the soaked paper towels; luckily, they also helped to bury her underwear sitting in the trash can. Just as she was beginning to regain some composure, a gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door, causing Lisa's heart to skip a beat, freezing her in her tracks. "Lisa? Are you okay in there?" Sarah's voice was filled with concern, muffled by the closed door. Lisa's heart eased with gratitude at the sound of her friend's voice. Despite her mortification, she couldn't help but feel warmth at Sarah's support. Lisa called out, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the lingering embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning as Sarah pushed open the door, her concerned gaze meeting Lisa's. "I brought you something," Sarah said softly, holding out a rolled-up fabric bundle. I keep a new pack of underwear in my car for emergencies, and I thought you might appreciate a pair ." Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the offering, touched by Sarah's thoughtfulness despite the situation's awkwardness. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I... I really appreciate it." Sarah smiled sympathetically, her eyes warm with understanding. "No problem. We've all been there, right?" As Lisa quickly changed into dry underwear, a sense of gratitude washed over her. She felt so lucky to have a friend like Sarah in her life—someone who didn't judge her for the awkward moment she had just put her friend through, someone who just so happened to be ready for something like this to happen, someone who she could talk to, to get her thoughts, fears, and secrets out to. "Looks like you've got everything taken care of," Sarah remarked, breaking the silence as Lisa finished changing. "Yeah, thanks to you," Lisa replied, smiling gratefully at her friend. They stood there momentarily, the weight of the situation still hanging in the air. Lisa felt the urge to make another wish, to undo everything that had happened, but she hesitated. She remembered what happened with her mom. What unforeseen consequence would happen with a wish to undo something already done? She couldn't risk making things worse. Sarah must have sensed her friend's turmoil because she spoke up. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? You can take a shower and relax for a bit. Maybe it'll help clear your mind." Lisa appreciated the offer and nodded, relieved to escape her apartment and her mom for a while. "That sounds really nice, actually. Thank you." As they left the bathroom and headed towards the exit, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of unease. She knew she had to be careful with the bracelet and its wishes, but she couldn't ignore the temptation to use it again. The power it held was both alluring and terrifying. Once they were in Sarah's car, Lisa glanced at the bracelet on her wrist, feeling conflicted. She thought about wishing to undo everything that had happened, to erase the embarrassment and the mess. But something held her back. She couldn't shake the feeling that using the bracelet again would only lead to more trouble. Sarah tried to distract Lisa from what happened. "Hey, I've done it a thousand times," she said, trying to ease Lisa's embarrassment. "Don't sweat it. We all have our moments." Lisa nodded, grateful for Sarah's understanding. She couldn't shake off the embarrassment, but Sarah's reassurance helped. "I just wish this whole thing hadn't happened," Lisa muttered, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "That was the most embarrassing thing ever." Sarah comforted her friend, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know it feels like a big deal now, but trust me, we'll laugh about this one day. In the meantime, let's hit the road to my place so you can get that shower. And hey, we can still go see that movie we talked about if you're up for it." Lisa managed a weak smile, grateful for Sarah's friendship. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks." As they drove to Sarah's place, Lisa couldn't help but wonder why nothing had happened. She made a wish, just like she had done with not wanting to ride the bus. Only nothing changed. She was still embarrassed about what happened. She was still in Sarah's car, still wearing different underwear than when she started the day. She stared at the bracelet momentarily, frustrated that it refused to work how she thought it would. It didn't protect her from peeing herself; it got her mom in a separation, and now it was ignoring her. This thing is a curse! As they arrived at Sarah's place, Lisa felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. The short ride had provided a small respite from the day's events, but she knew she couldn't escape them entirely. Sarah's apartment building was familiar yet unfamiliar, a place Lisa had never visited despite their close friendship. Sarah led the way, her steps brisk as they ascended the stairs to her apartment. Lisa followed, her mind still reeling from the day's events. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the nagging suspicion that the bracelet on her wrist was more trouble than it was worth. Inside Sarah's apartment, Lisa took in her surroundings with curiosity. The space was cozy and inviting, filled with warmth and a comforting home scent. Sarah gestured for Lisa to make herself comfortable as she disappeared into another room, returning with a bundle of clothes moments later. "Here you go," Sarah said, offering Lisa the clothes with a sympathetic smile. "I grabbed you some clean clothes and a towel. The bathroom's right through there." Lisa accepted the clothes gratefully, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. "Thanks." Once inside the bathroom, Lisa hesitated momentarily, her fingers trembling as she reached for the hem of her shirt. She paused, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of uncertainty and resignation. How had her life come to this? Soiling herself as if she couldn't control it. She never imagined herself in a situation quite like this. All of this chaos in her life, all of it because of a cursed bracelet? Shaking off the thoughts, Lisa focused, quickly undressing until she was just in her underwear. She stared at herself in the mirror, the image reflecting back at her a stark reminder. She couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over her. She had been in this situation before, just a few days ago when she got the bracelet. She stood in the bathroom staring at her reflection looking at a wet pull-up she was wearing. Here she was again. Having had an accident, only this time, she was in underwear. The pull-up, no-where to be seen. Just as Lisa was about to step into the shower, Sarah's voice interrupted her thoughts from outside the bathroom door. "Hey, I'm going to order some takeout. If there's anything specific you want, just text it to me. Otherwise, I'm just going to get some Chinese food." "Sounds good! Thanks." Lisa called back, her voice brimming with gratitude. As she stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her body, Lisa couldn't help but feel relief washing over her. The day's events seemed to fade away if only for a moment, replaced by a fleeting sense of peace. She was grateful for the opportunity to wash away her shameful moment, leaving it in the past. Once she had finished showering and dried off, Lisa dressed in the clothes Sarah had left for her, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. Not only was she understanding, but she was also being overly generous. Sarah gave her a pair of brand new underwear again, a pair of sweat pants, and a large hoodie—the perfect comfort clothes to combat the stressful day she had had so far. As Lisa emerged from the bathroom, Sarah greeted her with a warm smile. "Feeling better?" Lisa nodded, her spirits lifted by the comfort of her friend's presence. "Yeah, thanks to you." Sarah smiled, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Anytime, Lisa. That's what friends are for." Lisa and Sarah settled in to enjoy their takeout, the tension of the day began to melt away. They chatted and laughed; Lisa told Sarah about her date with Craig tomorrow. Excited to be able to see him again and enjoy a nice meal with him. The comfort of their friendship eased Lisa's earlier embarrassment. Lisa felt grateful for Sarah's understanding and support, her worries about her accident and the pull-ups momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the evening. As they finished their meal, Sarah glanced at the clock and frowned. "We should probably head out soon if we want to make it to the movie on time," she said, double-checking the time on her phone. Lisa nodded, a sense of unease creeping back into her mind. She knew she had no way of controlling the bracelet's magic. Not yet, at least. Not wanting to embarrass herself any more than she already had, she knew she needed to use the bathroom before they left. She couldn't risk ruining Sarah's clothes or embarrassing herself again. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick," Lisa said, trying to sound casual despite her nerves. She didn't feel the need to go, but waiting until she needed to go hasn't been working out the best for her lately. "I'll meet you by the door." "Take your time, Lisa. We're in no rush." As Lisa entered the bathroom, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over her. She stared at herself in the mirror, the worried look in her reflection a stark reminder of the day's events. She couldn't let another accident happen, not now. Taking a deep breath, Lisa moved herself over to the toilet and sat on it. She tried as hard as she could to relax and let herself go. She couldn't feel any sensation that it was working. It was like her body had chosen to ignore her completely now. Suddenly, she heard the splashing water and a stream running. She let out a sigh of relief. Maybe she could get through the rest of the day without further embarrassment. She knew she still had to be careful with the bracelet, especially now that its magic had been confirmed and seemed unpredictable. She couldn't risk trusting it to replace her underwear and prevent an accident. After using the bathroom, Lisa took a moment to compose herself, her mind racing with thoughts of the bracelet and its powers. She couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for ever putting it on, for ever making those wishes. But she also knew she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was be cautious and hope for the best. As she rejoined Sarah in the living room, Lisa forced a smile, trying to push aside her lingering worries. "Ready to go?" Sarah nodded, standing up from the couch. "Yeah, let's go."

Thank you, CDfm, for pointing out the issues. I hope I fixed them all. If anyone sees any more errors, please don't hesitate to point them out. Update: I think I got them all this time. *** Do I have to? by nautybaby "Do I really have to?" "I really think you should." "But I don't want to." "We've been over this." "But I don't need them." "Last night and the laundry I've been doing lately says otherwise." "It won't happen again. I promise." "I've heard that before." "It's not fair!" "Fair or not, I won't have you ruining my friend's bed." "No!" I shouted. "You can't make me." "David!" she said sharply without raising her voice. "That's enough. I think we both know I can make you. Now, get your butt on that bed, and keep your voice down. That is unless you want Sharon to hear you getting a spanking on top of the tantrum you've been throwing." "You wouldn't," I blanched. "Try me." I looked into her steely eyes and slowly made my way to the bed. I lay down and gave her a pleading look. She simply grabbed the waist of my pajamas and began to tug. I gave in and lifted my bottom, allowing her to pull them down. She reached into my suitcase and pulled out the object of my dread. She had shown me the diapers before we left, but no matter how many times I saw them, I never got over just how big and thick they actually were. "Lift." I did and fought the urge to cry. She made short work of securing the diaper around my waist. She put the pajama bottoms back in my suitcase and locked it. "If you behave yourself, you can have those back in the morning." "You don't mean…" "We'll see. Now, get in bed." That was the end of a conversation that had been going on all day. Conversation, humph. Argument more like. It started when we were packing for the trip. I thought we were about ready when she brought out the package of diapers. "Are those what I think they are?" "Isn't that obvious?" "What do you have those for?" "Seriously?" "You don't expect me to wear those?" "I certainly do." "No way." "Yes way." "I won't." "You will. Now, hurry up. We're already late," she said, loading a number of the diapers into the case. "I don't need them. I've only had a couple of problems." "It started out as a couple of problems. It's gotten to be almost every night." "Yeah, almost. See, it's getting better. I'm not going to wear them." "You are going to wear them, and that's final. Now, get dressed." She said all this so matter-of-factly that it made my blood boil. I stomped over to the suitcase and started taking the diapers out. I felt a sharp sting in my right bottom cheek. I shot up straight and turned around. "You will put those back, unless you want some more." Her eyes were hard. "No," I said with more confidence than I felt. "David, put those back right now, or so help me…" I stood my ground, hoping my trembling didn't show. "Is that really the way you want to play it? Have it your way." I thought I had won the battle. That feeling lasted only a second before pain erupted from my ear. She spun me around by it and threw me face down on the bed. There was a knee in my back and slaps were raining down on my underpants. "Stop. Stop!" "Are you going to pack your diapers and stop fussing?" "No!" "Fine. If that's the way you want it." "No!" I screamed, as my underwear was yanked down. After that, my words got less and less comprehensible until I was simply blubbering. Still not dressed, my belt was in handy reach to her. She put it to good use—good from her perspective anyway. "Are you ready to do as you are told?" "Yes," I sobbed. "Good. Finish packing and get dressed. We're leaving in five minutes. Don't make me have to 'encourage' you. And you can start with the diapers. I'll be back for the case in just a minute. It had better be ready." I hastily repacked the diapers and the rest of my clothes. True to her word, she was soon back, and after checking to see that I had indeed packed the diapers, she locked the case and took it downstairs. That left me a few minutes alone to nurse my bruised pride and bottom while I finished dressing. I found her behind the wheel of the car, waiting to get on the road. I climbed in the other side and sulked. We couldn't have been on the road for more than five minutes before I started restating my position about why I shouldn't have to wear diapers. She didn't argue with me. She listened in silence. I felt encouraged that I was making my point, my reasoning becoming more shrill the longer I went on. I found I was repeating myself, and she had yet to utter a word. My tirade petered out. After a minute of silence, she quietly asked, "Are you finished?" "Um, yeah, I guess." "Good. You've had your say. Now, I'm going to have mine. Like it or not, you have a problem. I've been extremely patient about it. I've even been the one to clean up after you. It's not going away. It's getting worse. We are going to be staying with my friend. I do not want you embarrassing me or yourself by wetting her bed. You are going to wear those diapers, and you are going to stop fussing about it. If you insist on being a big baby about it, I can treat you like one. That includes pulling this car over, spanking you again, and putting you in one of those diapers for the rest of the trip. I'm already not happy with you. Would you like to try your luck?" "No." "Good." The trip was mostly silent aside from some tunes softly playing on the radio. I stared out the window, opting to table the discussion for the time being. Occasionally, she nudged me and told me to stay awake, unless I wanted to put a diaper on and take a nap. Eventually, I faced forward, so she could see I was awake, and pouted. If I had been eight or ten or even twelve, I suppose these events would be understandable. But I was not twelve, and the woman driving was not my mommy. I was thirty-two, and she was my wife. When we arrived, Kathy, my wife, and Sharon hugged and air kissed like long-lost sisters. Sure, we lived far enough apart that they didn't see each other often, but they were on the phone at least once a week. I shook my head and got the bags. "Sorry we're late," Kathy said. "Packing took a bit longer than I expected." I had the impression that comment was aimed at me, but I ignored it. "Don't worry about it. It's just so good to see you. I know how it can be. You should try it with a baby sometime. I still can't believe the amount of stuff I had to get ready for Phil to take Abby for the week." I tried to picture Sharon's ex taking care of a baby on his own. I don't know if I found the images more funny or frightening. Oh well, maybe one of his girlfriends will help him out. "Yes," Kathy mused. "Packing for a baby can be a lot of work." I was sure that was directed at me. Again, I chose to ignore it. "Come on inside. Dinner's almost ready. Dave, you can take those right upstairs, first door on the right. You know the spot." When I came downstairs, Kathy asked, "Did you wash your hands?" I didn't like the way they both giggled. "Yes, I washed my hands," I replied irritably. "Don't be grumpy. I was just asking." Dinner was a long drawn out affair. Kathy and Sharon went on and on about this one and that one. I was mostly ignored, which suited me fine. I didn't have the slightest interest in whoever and whatever they were talking about. Mainly, I just picked at my food and drank more than my share of wine. During a lull, Sharon turned to me, "So, Dave, what's new and exciting with you these days?" "Nothing much," I mumbled. "Don't mind him," Kathy interjected. "I think he's just overtired from the trip. I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude." Her accusing tone was not lost on me. "Sorry. I guess I am a little tired." "I think we better get you into bed then." "Why, Kathy!" Sharon exclaimed. "I meant to sleep, you sex fiend," she laughed. "Come on, Davey, upstairs." Whether it was the trip or the wine, I was tired. I bade Sharon goodnight and climbed the stairs ahead of Kathy. "You go potty, then meet me in the bedroom," she said. Not thinking, I did as instructed. When I got to the bedroom, I saw her laying out the diaper on the bed. That's where you came in. Kathy had me tucked in and started to leave to room. "Where are you going? Aren't you coming to bed?" "Not just yet. Sharon and I have more to talk about, and there's most of a bottle of wine it would be a shame to waste. You go to sleep, and I'll be up in a while. I lay there for a time, replaying the day in my head. If I hadn't been tired and buzzed, I might have been more upset. Every now and again, I would hear their raucous laughter. I did my best not to believe they were talking about my sleeping attire. My thoughts turned to how I got into this mess in the first place. It started about month before. I had gotten a new boss, and it wasn't going well. Nothing seemed to please him. There was always something wrong, and no matter how small the problem was, he acted like it was the end of civilization as we know it. The harder I tried to anticipate what was wanted, the farther my attempts were from what he had in mind. I tried to get clearer instructions, but that only seemed to make him madder. It was really taking a toll on me and, no doubt, on Kathy. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't set work aside at the end of the day. All I could think of was what the next confrontation was going to be about. I was distracted and short tempered. Even my dreams were filled with anxieties about everything that had happened and visions of what might be ahead. When I was able to sleep at all, it wasn't good. After a week of mostly sleepless nights, I found myself shaken awake by Kathy. I was completely disoriented and not hearing what she was saying. I don't know how many times she repeated it before it finally sank in. "David, wake up. You wet the bed." "What?" "You wet the bed." I rolled toward her, and it dawned on me. I wet the bed. That's right. She said that. Still only half awake, all I could say was, "I'm sorry." Kathy told me to go to the bathroom and clean up, and she would take care of the bed. Still to fuzzy to think, I did as she told me. My wet pajamas cooled quickly as I went. I stripped off and sat on the toilet, trying to clear my head. By the time I was awake enough to push out the little pee I had left and get washed up. I was deeply embarrassed by what I had done. I almost wanted to stay in the bathroom just to avoid having to look at Kathy. When I did come out, she was smoothing out towels over the wet spot. I almost went back in. "Good, you're finally back. Help me get the clean sheets on. Maybe we can still get some sleep before we have to get up." I picked up the bottom sheet and shook it out. She signaled she was ready, and I fluffed it over the bed. The two of us made short work of remaking the bed, and I thought Kathy was being really good about the situation. "Did you make sure to go peepee while you were in there?" So much for that. "Yes," I said, a bit more harshly than I intended. "Don't get snippy with me. I'm not the reason we're changing sheets in the middle of the night." "Sorry," I said, and I meant it. "Me too. Let's go back to bed, and we'll forget all about it. Okay?" "Okay," I said and hugged her tight. "I love you, and I am sorry." "I love you too. Now, go to sleep. Morning's going to come awfully early." That was easier said than done. I don't know how Kathy managed it. I lay there listening to her breathing, wondering how I could have wet myself and worrying that I might do it again. I think I drifted off just before the alarm went off. Work the next day was miserable. Besides the usual grief from my boss, my eyes were burning, and my head was pounding all day. By the time I got home, I was an exhausted wreck. After pushing my dinner around the plate for a while, I told Kathy I was going to bed. "I think that's a good idea. You had a rough night, and you look awful." "Thanks a lot." "You know what I mean. Go on. I'll clean up here. Don't forget to use the potty before you go night-night." "Not funny!" "Oh, come on. You know I'm joking. You may as well laugh as cry. It was just a one-time thing. Go get some rest, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning." I nodded and followed her advice, even stopping to "use the potty" on the way. Totally wiped out, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not that it brought much rest. My dreams were the now usual of instant replays and anxious fantasies I had suffered for days. "Wake up, David," I heard, before I felt the shaking. "David, wake up." Once I realized it was Kathy, and not my mother trying to get me up for school, I sat bolt upright, panicking that I had done it again. "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it." "It's alright, Dave," she said soothingly. "You didn't do anything. You didn't, did you? You were just having a bad dream. But as long as you're up, you may as well use the potty, just to be safe." I apologized and kissed her, and then decided a pee might be a good idea at that. There was a small wet spot on my pajama pants, but the bed was dry. I didn't mention it, and if Kathy noticed, she was kind enough to let it pass. Having limited my fluids all day, I don't know where it all came from. I did know I feel a lot better when I climbed back into bed. I slept better that night and felt more like my old self in the morning. That lasted for about an hour after I got to work. Then it was what had come to be business as usual. It was a particularly bad day. I was pushed and pulled in so many directions, I was beginning to doubt the sky was blue. If I had been thinking clearly, I probably would have guessed it was going to happen again. Kathy was again supportive and more patient than I felt I deserved. Again, she got us cleaned up and back to sleep in short order. I had a few good days, with no nighttime problems, even though things were just as bad, if not worse at work. I was starting to feel confident when it happened a third time. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream, and I think Kathy knew it. Once back in bed, she held me and whispered reassuring things until I went to sleep. The pattern continued, and I ended up having five wet nights in two weeks. After the last of those, Kathy sat me down in the morning. "Dave, this… um… problem you've been having is not getting better. I think you should see somebody about it." The thought of telling my doctor and friend, George Simmons, that I was wetting the bed filled me with dread. "That's not really necessary. I'm sure it will stop on its own. It's not that big a deal." "Says the man who's not washing the sheets. You're right. It may be nothing serious, but then again it might be. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of being woken up in the middle of the night and having to clean up after you. Get on that phone and make an appointment, or I'll do it for you." "Alright, alright, I'll call." I was greatly relieved when George's office told me they couldn't fit me in for at least two weeks. I begged off making an appointment, telling them that I was just feeling a little under the weather, and it would probably pass before they could see me. Kathy was not happy but understood it was not my fault, and she let the matter drop. Or so I thought. That afternoon, I got a call from her telling me to meet her at Dr. MacPherson's office at 4:30. Having to tell my boss I needed to leave early while avoiding the reason was not a pleasant conversation to say the least. I was happy just to get out of there when the time came. At least, I was until I was on the way and started thinking about what was going to happen at the appointment. Margaret MacPherson had been my doctor growing up. Her general practice had served all my family, and Kathy became her patient shortly after we were married. After college, when I had some voice in the matter, I insisted that seeing a female doctor was uncomfortable, and that's when I came under George's care. I was not looking forward to going back to her. Dr. MacPherson—I never could bring myself to call her anything else—literally knew me inside and out. She had seen me through all my childhood illnesses, broken bones, acne, and everything else. To me, she would always be Dr. MacPherson. Kathy, on the other hand, having come to her later in life, always call her Margaret. They had become fast friends, and Dr. MacPherson was almost a surrogate mother to Kathy. Kathy and I were called back shortly after I arrived. We were shown into a room where Dr. MacPherson was waiting for us. "Kathy, how wonderful to see you! And Davey, just look at you, so grown up!" With her rosy cheeks, halo of white hair, and the soft Glasgow burr that never left her, it was impossible to be upset by her comment. She was everybody's favorite grandmother. "Hello, Dr. MacPherson. It's nice to see you again." "And you too, dear. How is your mother? I miss seeing her since she moved away." "She's well, thank you. I'll tell her you were asking after her." "Oh, yes, do. So, what brings you in today?" I sat there trying to think of some way to tell her why I was there. I could feel my face getting redder and redder. Still, no words would come out. Finally, Kathy just took over. "Davey," she said, using the same boyhood nickname, "has been having some problems keeping the bed dry at night." There it was, right out on the table. "Oh! Is your wee problem back, dear?" the doctor asked gently. She placed her hand on top of mine reassuringly but couldn't avoid a small titter at her unintended pun. I'm sure Kathy had thought she was trying to be discrete about the issue, but it felt more like a mother trying to be gentle about a child's potty-training setbacks. My mother had used almost those same words many years before. "Back?" Kathy asked. "Oh my, yes, dear," she said without regard for my embarrassment. "Davey was quite the little waterworks when he was a boy, weren't you, Davey. I wondered for a long time if we would ever get him out of nappies." It finally dawned on her that this was extremely uncomfortable for me. I am sure that my face was bright red. I could feel heat radiating from the blush. "But that was a long time ago, wasn't it dear? What seems to be the problem?" Without hesitation, Kathy began describing my symptoms as if I weren't in the room or too small to speak for myself. "He doesn't seem to be sleeping well. He's constantly tossing and turning, and he's always still tired when he wakes up. He's been distant and irritable, and every few days, he wets the bed." "Oh, I'm so sorry. What seems to be the problem, Davey? Is something bothering you?" With some prompting and a great deal of prodding, I told the whole story about what was going on at work. Kathy knew or guessed some of it, but I did not want to let on just how bad it really was. Once they got me to open up, it all came pouring out. The exhaustion and that day's fight with the boss caught up with me, and I was sobbing by the time I finished the tale. I was calming down before I realized Kathy had pulled my head to her shoulder, and she was stroking my hair and shushing me gently. Dr. MacPherson's face was a mix of sympathy and anger. "It's just like that teacher you had all over again. Och, that woman! I'd still like to get my hands on her." She told the story of Mrs. Hannity, my fourth-grade teacher. She was nearing retirement and had a grandson who was a spoiled rotten little hellion. I had the misfortune of bearing him a striking resemblance, and she took out all complaints about him on me. I resented her accusations but came to half-believe that I was as bad as she made out. I fell into depressed and listless state, and my grades suffered. My mother asked me what was wrong, and I tried to tell her about my issues with the teacher and how unfair she was. My mother, of course, took the teacher's side and told me I had to stop being lazy and work harder, which is one of the things Mrs. Hannity accused me of. It all came to a head one day when I turned in a half-completed homework assignment. I had fallen asleep over the paper and didn't have time to finish it before school. Mrs. Hannity went on a tirade the likes of which I had never seen, not only about the homework but about the messy state of my desk and anything else she could think of. When she dumped my desk over onto the floor, I was so shocked and scared, I wet my pants. That stopped her ranting but infuriated her all the more. She went silent and the color rose in her face. She grabbed my ear and dragged me to the office. She told them she would not suffer a baby like me in her class. I sobbed and sobbed while the secretary called my mother. I was still in tears, shivering in my wet pants when she arrived. The ride home was no better, as she went on and on about how ashamed she was to have a boy my age wetting his pants in school, how I was going to have to apologize to everyone involved, and how was she ever going to be able to show her face again. I ran into the house, crying my eyes out. I stripped out of my wet clothes and threw myself on my bed and bawled my eyes out. It was all so unfair. I must have cried myself to sleep, because my mother was gently trying to rouse me. She appeared considerably calmer and asked me what had happened. I told her the whole story in lurid detail. The more I told her, the angrier she got but not at me. She took me in her arms and told me how sorry she was. When we had both settled down, she told me to wash up and get dressed. We were going back to the school. I begged her not to make me go. She told me not to worry about it, I would not have to be in Mrs. Hannity's class ever again, if she had anything to say about it. I followed with great reluctance as she strode into the office. "I want to see the principal. Now!" I had never seen my mother so forceful, not with adults anyway. I don't think the secretary had either, because we were shown into Mr. Mellon's office almost immediately. My mother really gave him an earful about all that had gone on. I was mostly ignored except to fill in some blanks and details. Mr. Mellon promised an investigation and said I'd be put into Miss Sanderson's class for the duration. For the year, my mother insisted and got her way. I don't know the full extent of what happened. I did have to tell the story one more time to some people I didn't know. Shortly after that, Mrs. Hannity "got sick," and we heard she was taking an early retirement. I felt and did better in Miss Sanderson's class. I think I even developed a little crush on her. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. From the day of the incident until a long time after, I had nightmares about it and started wetting the bed. Today, we would call it post-traumatic stress disorder, but not back then, especially not with children. My mother was patient for a time, but it was short-lived. She took me to Dr. MacPherson, who recognized the problem and was sympathetic to both of us and assured us it would pass in time. There was little she could do, however, and her only recommendation was "night nappies," as she put it, until I got over it. Despite my protests and promises not to let it happen again, my mother agreed there was no other option. She insisted that she was as embarrassed about it as I was, but I didn't think that was possible. That was the first of many nights my mother put me in a diaper. It did not come without an argument and a couple of slaps on my behind. The nightmares eventually stopped but the wetting didn't. I was in middle school before I was reliably dry, and the diapers were a thing of the past. Nevertheless, my mother kept a waterproof cover on my bed through high school, "just in case." Now, here I was again, facing the same problem for much the same reasons. Dr. MacPherson was again sympathetic and reassuring, but her solution was the same. She prescribed some antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication, but until I could deal with the stressors, I could expect more wet nights. The best thing was to start wearing nappies to keep the bed dry and allow us both a decent night's sleep. She recommended we get them from a medical supply store, as the ones to be found in supermarkets and pharmacies were virtually useless. She recommended a shop that could also fill my prescriptions. "Don't worry, dear," she comforted me. "I'm sure you'll get over it, and you'll be all dry in no time, just like before." Knowing how long that "before" lasted, I was not reassured. Kathy thanked Dr. MacPherson for both of us and promised to call her to have lunch soon. Dr. MacPherson bade us goodbye and made me promise to send her regards to my mother. Kathy drove us to the medical store. I begged her not to make me wear diapers. It was like reliving the argument with my mother all those years ago. Kathy would have none of it and insisted I go inside with her. There, she handed over the prescription and proceeded to ask the lady about "nighttime protection." She lady asked a lot of, to my mind, unnecessary and intrusive questions. Kathy went into lurid detail about the problems I was having and how heavily I wet. She insisted we should buy a whole case of their most absorbent product, saying she would take back any unopened packages if things cleared up in a short time, but the case lot was far more economical if the problem persisted. Kathy agreed, and I had to carry a huge box of all too conspicuously labeled "adult briefs" to the car. I took up the argument again at bedtime. It was just like been ten years old all over again, me begging and promising not to wet anymore, Kathy reasoning that I couldn't make that promise, and she wanted a good night's sleep. It all got rather heated until Kathy gave me a couple of swats on the behind and told me that was enough. I was again the little boy at the mercy of his mother. I lay down and let her put the dreaded thing on. Memories flooded back as she raised the thick padding between my legs. I was weeping when she fastened the last tape and gave the front a pat. I lay awake for a time, feeling sorry for myself, but the drugs kicked in, and I soon drifted off. I'm pretty sure I had nightmares again, mixed up visions of my boss and Mrs. Hannity. I panicked when Kathy shook me awake. I quickly felt for the felt for the wet spot and blurted out that I didn't wet the bed. Kathy told it was just time to get up, and I realized there was sunlight coming in the window. I was relieved until Kathy gave my crotch a squeeze. We both knew in an instant that I had not had a dry night. Not dry at all, I realized when I stood, and the diaper sagged between my legs. It was with a good deal of depression that I took it off and had my shower, and I still had work to look forward to. It was hard to think of anything else that day, and my boss was no better than usual. The only thing that got me through was the thought that I would be leaving for vacation that afternoon. I had used some accumulated sick time to take the extra half-day off for the drive to Sharon's house. I was happy to leave the office and my boss behind. Those were my thoughts as I drifted off. Soon enough, I felt Kathy climb in next to me. She curled up against my back, and I felt her hand work around to the front. She squeezed my crotch, and I thought she was up to something good. Then I heard her whisper. "You'll last till morning." Whereupon, she rolled over. I was too much asleep to fully comprehend what she meant. There must have been a part of me that did understand, as I slept fitfully after that. I have vague recollections of dreams wherein I was being scolded by my mother for wetting my pants… again. When I felt Kathy shaking me awake, I didn't feel much more rested than when I went to sleep. To top it off, my head was pounding. "Good thing we put that on you. I hope that satisfies you that I know what I'm doing, and we won't have a problem again tonight." I felt the squish when I rolled over, as well as a pounding in my skull. I couldn't bear to look at her, but I managed to mumble a dejected, "No." She reached down and undid the tapes. I tried to help, but she just swatted my hands away. "Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure it will make you feel better. There's coffee waiting when you're done." She handed me my pajama pants, and I took her up on her advice. The shower did help. I felt almost human when I got out. If only that guy would lay off the drums. Not ready for the rigors of getting dressed, I returned to my pajamas and a robe and went downstairs. Coffee, lots of it, finished the job. By the time I had had something to eat, I was moderately ready to face the day. "Okay," Kathy said. "Get dressed. We're going shopping." I groaned, showing none of the enthusiasm she had. "Shopping? Really? Do I have to go? I'm still tired, and my head hurts." I admit it. I was whining. "Yes, you have to go. You're not going to just waste the day or get into who knows what kind of trouble. Besides, it's your own fault your head hurts. Now, upstairs; scoot." "You know," Sharon intervened. "He does still look a little green behind the gills." That made me like Sharon a little more. Kathy looked me over. "Hmm, maybe. We'll discuss it while he gets dressed. Let's go." Kathy shut the bedroom door, and I turned to her. "Don't make me go. You know I'll be useless and bored, and I really don't feel all that well." "You do look a little under the weather," she conceded. "Though I don't know why you should be rewarded for tying one on last night." "It's not a reward. Trust me, I'm being punished for last night. Please let me stay here. You two will have a lot more fun without me." "You're probably right at that. But I'm not so sure about leaving you here alone. If you're as tired as you say you are, you'll probably take a nap, and that risks Sharon's furniture. No, you'll just have to come along." "Please, honey, I'll stay awake, I promise. Besides, I never have problems during the day." "That's because you don't sleep in the day. I think it's best you come along." "Aww! Please don't make me. Nothing will happen; I promise." I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. "Well," she considered, "I suppose there might be one way." "Yes! Yes! Whatever you say. Just don't make me go with you." "You're sure now? It really means that much for you to stay here?" "Yes! Absolutely. I'll do it." "Alright, but you insisted. There's no turning back now. Go potty, and we'll get your diaper on." "What!" "That's the deal. You said you are too tired to go, and I can't trust you to stay awake or not wet in your sleep. If you stay home, I want you in a diaper. That way I can feel safe if you do take a nap." "But I said I'd stay awake. I have work I can do. That'll keep me awake." "We're on vacation. You shouldn't be working. Besides, we both know how well you stay on task without someone to watch you. No, diapers or shopping; it's your choice." I was torn. It was bad enough having to wear them at night, but at least I could ignore them then. On the other hand, department stores, fitting rooms, girl talk. "Fine. You win." And I went across to the bathroom. The diaper was already laid out when I got back. Condemned to my fate, I took off my clothes and lay down. Kathy efficiently diapered me. "Wait a second. What if I have to pee?" "That should be obvious." "But I'll be awake." "This was your idea." "It was not my idea! It was yours." "Alright, maybe the idea was, but it was your choice, and it's been made. We're not wasting that diaper, just because you didn't think it through." She appeared to be thinking of something. She reached in her purse and pulled out a marker. Before I knew what she was up to, she was marking her initials over the intersections of the tapes and the plastic. "That'll make sure you don't try taking it off as soon as I'm out the door. If you do, I'll know, and you'll get that spanking, Sharon or no Sharon." She got thoughtful again, and then she threw me for a loop. She pulled out another diaper. "What are you going to do with that?" I asked, shocked. "I'm going to double diaper you. I don't know how long we'll be out, and I can't take a chance of your leaking. The two should hold all your peepees. Up." It was obvious I was not going to win here. I let her put it on me. She used her long fingernails to poke a few holes in the inner one before taping up the outer. She repeated the trick with the marker. She gave the whole package as couple of satisfied pats. "There, all snug and safe and ready for your day. Now, since you claim you are not feeling well, I expect you to take it easy. Nap if you can. I want you feeling better, so we can do things together the rest of our stay." "Okay," I sighed. "Don't take that tone. You got what you wanted." I hadn't but didn't argue the point. "Get dressed and come say goodbye to Sharon and me." Kathy left the room, and I stood up to dress. The bulk between my legs was incredible. A bowlegged waddle was all I could manage. I tried to put on some khakis, but it wasn't happening. I resigned myself to putting my pajamas back on and threw on my robe. Stairs aren't easy when you can't put your knees together. I had to take them one at a time, and each one was accompanied by a distinct rustling I really hoped only I could hear. I stood as still as I could by the door and let the ladies come to me for a quick kiss and hug goodbye. Kathy surreptitiously patted my bottom and told me to be a good boy. I'm sure I jumped. I only hoped Sharon didn't notice, but her smile didn't make me optimistic. I watched them drive away and wondered what I was going to do with myself. It was difficult to walk normally, and the crinkling, exceptionally loud to my ears, was distracting. I did have some work I could do, but I wasn't enthused by the prospect. I got out my laptop anyway and set up at the kitchen table. After getting a cup of coffee and checking my email, all junk, I opened my work project. I stared at it for fifteen minutes or so before closing it down again. I was on vacation and in no mood to work. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for much of anything. The double thick diaper kept me focused on my problems and my plight. I figured, or hoped anyway, that I was not alone. Surely there were other men this happened to. Maybe there was some advice on how to handle the situation, preferably advice that did not rely on diapers. If I could show Kathy some alternative, maybe she would relent. The internet was not coming to my rescue. Oh, there was some consolation in finding out that I was not the only adult who experienced bedwetting problems. Most of the information indicated that they were stress related and would eventually pass along with the stressors. There were other causes that were, quite frankly, kind of scary. I would have to consider seeing a doctor. Not my regular doctor. I thought I would die if I had to tell George about this problem. The shock for me, though, was not the number of people who had the problem but the number who seemed to revel in it and the number who didn't have it but wanted to. The number of stories, true, fictional, or mixed, was staggering. Most seemed to be fantasy, or mostly so. That of itself was cause for thought. The number of those where the problem was dealt with by the sufferer's wife, girlfriend or mother enforcing the use of diapers was frightening. Apparently, I was not alone, either in diapers or in being spanked. At least some of the stories had to contain some truth. While I was reading, my morning coffee was catching up with me. I made a vow that I would wait it out and show Kathy my wearing diapers was ridiculous, at least during the day. I was not quite so confident about nighttime. Unfortunately, the amount of coffee I drink, and the effects it has on my bladder, made me doubt my resolve pretty quickly. I held on for as long as I could, but after a couple of painful spasms and a look at how little time had gone by, I knew I couldn't take it. The flood that followed was mind-blowing. As hard as it is to admit, the relief, after fighting the urge for so long, was almost orgasmic. That is until the reality of the situation began to sink in. I was sitting there in a soaking wet diaper, a grown man wallowing in his own pee. I could feel the wetness all around me, and I was sure that I had to have leaked. I stood up and checked the chair, bone dry. I checked out the diaper as best I could. Except for a few small spots between my legs, where I remembered Kathy poking holes, it showed no sign of what I did. I felt disgusted with myself but relieved I hadn't flooded the kitchen. Under Kathy's implicit threat and my explicit promise, I knew I was stuck in this situation until they got back. I could only hope it wouldn't be too long and that Kathy would give me some warning of their return. It was going to be bad enough facing her, having wet myself. The idea that Sharon might notice was unthinkable. Having no way out of my predicament without making Kathy more mad at me, I went back to my research. I decided to concentrate on how people like me felt about the situation. "People like me," there was a strange thought. Only hours before, I would have considered identifying a community of adults in diapers crazy. As expected, I found embarrassment, depression, and a fair amount of self-loathing. I did not expect to find so many people who gave every impression that they enjoyed being in diapers. I certainly never expected to find that group that referred to themselves as Adult Babies, people who actively sought out the opportunity to relive the experience of being toddlers or even younger. I found the pictures rather disconcerting. Was that where I was headed? It was inevitable that I would have to pee again while I surfed away. The need was less pronounced, and the hour was getting later. Again, I tried to hold off. I hadn't lasted very long when the other effect coffee has started to hit me. I was not going to give into that one, but holding that back made the pressure on my bladder worse. Eventually, it came down to a choice of the lesser of two evils. I was already wet, so the decision to wet some more was not difficult. The feeling was not as intense as before, but I did feel a lot better, and the other urge seemed to abate. I was hungry now, and made myself some lunch, just a quick sandwich and some juice. More coffee seemed like a bad idea. Eating took my mind off my troubles for the moment. It also made me sleepy. I felt that a nap might not be such a bad idea after all and went upstairs to lie down. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was, as I was rather disoriented when I heard Sharon's bright announcement that they were home. I rolled over with a squish. I knew without looking that I had wet in my sleep, and the diaper was considerably fuller than when I came upstairs. I also realized my other problem was coming back with a vengeance. There was a deep rumble in my gut that would need attention and soon. I was trying to shake off the cobwebs and figure out what to do when I heard footsteps on the staircase. That made me panic, which didn't help my situation any. The door swung open, and there was Kathy, thankfully alone. "What's the matter," she asked, concerned. "I… uh… hi," I said. "You must have needed that nap," she said, walking over to the bed. "Any problems while we were gone?" "Um… no… not really. Now that your home can I take this… thing off?" "Yes, I think so. Just let me make sure you were a good boy and didn't mess with it." Before I could stop her, she had the covers pulled back. I made a grab for my pajama bottoms, but she sharply slapped my hands. She wrestled the pants down while I begged her not to. "Oh my god! It's a good thing I put you in two. You're soaked." "Uh… yeah… you were gone a long time. Now please let me take this off. I have to go." "I can't imagine you have anything left in you." "Not that, the other." "Oh! Does my little boy have to go poopy?" she asked with a little too much relish. "Please, Kathy. This is hard enough." "Aww. Is it hard to hold it? Do you want to make a boom-boom in your diaper?" "Kathy, enough. Just let me up." I was getting desperate. "Don't get snippy with me, Mr. Soggybottom. Go on, if you have to go so bad." She got out of the way, and I leapt from the bed. I made for the bathroom and fell flat on my face. My pants were still around mid-thigh. The fall distracted me, and I pooped a little. Please don't let it smell, I hoped. Kathy was at my side in a second, helping me to my feet. She pulled up my pants and gave my bottom a pat. I started for the door. "Not so fast. Come back here." "Kathy, I really need to…" "Here. Now," she said, pointing at the floor in front of her. I clenched my cheeks and went to the spot. "Turn around." I knew arguing about it was not going to get me anywhere. I did as I was told and hoped against hope that what I knew was coming wouldn't. It did. She pulled back the waistbands of my pajamas and diapers and looked down the back. "I don't believe it. You did. You filthy little boy." She grabbed my ear and started dragging me toward the bathroom. That painful shock and sudden unbalance caused me to drop more into the seat of my pants. I felt sick. Kathy slammed the bathroom door behind us. "Really? Really? You actually pooped your pants. Unbelievable. What have you got to say for yourself?" I tried to come up with an explanation. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. Kathy gave an exasperated sigh. "Get those pajamas off." I did and turned to put them on a hook. "Did you go more?" She felt the back of my pants. "You did, didn't you? I can't believe you. Lie down." I squatted down slowly, trying to minimize the additional mess this was going to make. "Is everything alright in there?" Sharon was at the door! In that position, it was all too much for me. Whatever was left in my bladder and bowels found its way into my pants. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. "Yes, I guess so," Kathy sighed. "Just a little emergency we need to take care of." "Nothing serious, I hope." "Nothing a bath won't fix." "A bath?" Silence. "Oh. Well, never mind. Come down when you're ready. I'll start dinner." "Alright, stinker. Let's get you cleaned up." She started the bath running. That's when tears started. Thoroughly ashamed, I lay down and let Kathy untape the diapers. "Oh, God!" she choked. "Why did you do that in your pants? Why didn't you just take it off?" "You told me I couldn't!" "I know did, but I didn't mean you should…" She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath. "Okay. I guess this is partly my fault. I could have thought it through better and been clearer with you, but only partly. You're having some difficulties with your bladder, and I understand the reasons for that. It's okay. I just put you in a diaper to protect you and Sharon's furniture. But you are certainly old enough to know you shouldn't poop your pants, no matter what I said. I can't believe you did that." She sighed and dumped the poop in the toilet. "Just get in the shower. I'm getting a headache and can't talk about this now." I got in and let the stink and humiliation wash off of me. Clean and smelling better, I was feeling somewhat better when I got out. Then I noticed the diapers were gone. What had Kathy done with them? I didn't know what I would have done with them, but they had to go somewhere. What if Sharon saw them? My head was spinning, and my heart was pounding when I got dressed and went downstairs. Sharon didn't say anything when I entered the kitchen, but her sympathetic smile was all I needed to know the cat was out of the bag. Avoiding eye contact, I mumbled hello and took a seat at the table. I spent the remainder of the evening trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Despite knowing a diaper was in my future, I was almost looking forward to going to bed. When Kathy suggested I take my meds and make an early night of it, I had no objections. "Meds? Are you sick, Dave?" "No," Kathy explained for me. "Dave's been really stressed out at work, and the doctor just gave him something to get over the hump." "Oh, is that why he's…" She stopped short. "Well, I just hope you start feeling better real soon." "Thanks. Goodnight." I went upstairs with Kathy close behind. She closed the door behind us, and I turned on her. "How could you tell her?" I said sharply, keeping my voice low. "How could I not? I had to get rid of that diaper, and she was right there. There was no avoiding it." "But she… How can I face… I can't…" My frustration mounted as I tried to speak. Grasping for words, my emotions got the best of me, and my eyes filled with tears. "I want to go home." I sank down on the bed and cried. With my face in my hands, I sobbed, "Why? Why? Why? I can't do this anymore. I can't take it. I just want to die." Kathy grabbed my head and forced me to look at her. "Don't you ever say that! I love you. I don't want to live without you. You are not to even think like that, do you understand me? If you ever say anything like that again, I swear, I'll spank you so hard…" She sat down and took me in her arms. She was crying too. "We'll get through this, together. Just don't ever think about leaving me like that. I love you so much." We sat like that for a long time, holding each other and letting it all out. I was drained and hardly noticed when Kathy began to undress me. Filled with love for her, I started to caress her. "No, honey. I think we are both too tired for that tonight. Let's get your diaper on. It's been a rough day all around." Disappointed but with no strength to object, I let her dress me. She got me a glass of water to take my meds, and she tucked me into bed. She held me until I went to sleep. I don't remember her leaving, but I sort of noticed her getting back in. I rolled over and snuggled close to her. I was wet again the next morning but felt more rested. I was alone. There was a stack of clothes on the bed with a plastic bag and a note on top. "Get dressed and come downstairs. You can put your diaper in the bag and bring that with you." I put the wet diaper in the bag, had a quick wash and got dressed. I wasn't looking forward to carrying the object of my shame downstairs, but I and it couldn't stay there forever. Sharon and Kathy were having coffee in the kitchen. I tried to dispose of the package as discretely as possible, but I think I only managed to draw more attention to myself. "Honey, sit down. We need to talk about something." Here we go, I thought. This wasn't going to be good. Sharon brought me a cup of coffee. That helped some. "Sweetheart, I know you are really uncomfortable about all this, but I think we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. We are all aware that you are going to have to wear diapers to bed for a while. There, I said it. Diapers, diapers, diapers. Pretending that you don't is making us all uncomfortable. Sharon understands, and so do I. It's not your fault; it's just the way things are right now. Your trying to hide from the fact is just creating more stress you don't need. So, as of now, we are going to stop walking on eggshells and simply accept your diapers as a fact of life. Among ourselves, we'll speak openly about them if needed, and we won't make a big deal about disposing of them. That will save us all a lot of worry and trouble." I just stared into my coffee cup. I did not want to look at anyone, especially Sharon. I was fine pretending. Having to acknowledge the problem to someone else was not something I wanted to do. "It's okay, Dave," Sharon said. "I know the pressure you are under, and I understand how you feel." "How could you?" "I see this all the time in my work. People come in all the time feeling overwhelmed by it all. They feel the whole world wants something of them they can't give. They feel powerless to change the situation or fight back. They react in all kinds of ways. All too many of them turn to drugs or alcohol, and that only makes things worse. All things considered, a little thing like bedwetting is not so bad." "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to wear…" "Diapers. You can say it. You're not weak or lazy or whatever else you are telling yourself to bring you down. It's a stress reaction, nothing more. From what Kathy tells me about your boss, I'm proud of you for not turning to something self-destructive. You just need to find a way to deal with the stress, to let it go, to feel empowered. You feel helpless, and I'm sure you think the diapers prove it. On the contrary, by wearing them, you are taking control of the situation by the best means possible. By wearing them, you're getting rest; Kathy's getting rest; the bed is staying clean and dry. The way I figure it, you've taken a big first step in getting better." "Thanks, I guess." I didn't really feel any better. "Dave," Kathy said, "I think there's something else you should consider. There's no rush, especially as we are on vacation; so, take as much time as you need. I think you should really think about quitting your job." "I can't just quit." "Not so fast, hear me out. Your boss is a bully. I'm sure he'll be found out eventually, but in the meantime, your life there is going to be miserable. I don't think you can really get better, if you stay there. You might learn to live with it, but at what cost? We've been doing alright. We don't actually need both our salaries. With a little bit of trimming, we can live on what I make. If it takes you a while to find something else, we'll make do. And I bet you could always get some work on a consulting basis. I'm not saying you have to quit, but it's an option, and you'll have my support. Just think it over." "I can't just let you support me," I protested. "You'd support me, if I had to quit, wouldn't you?" "That's different." "Why? Because you're a man? Look at the calendar. It's not the 1950s anymore. We're partners. We support each other, no matter what. If you never took another job and just stayed home and took care of the house, you'd still be supporting me. That's what we do. We have each other's back." "But I'd feel so…" "For a while, maybe," Sharon interjected, "but you'll get over that. I had a patient who went through much the same thing. He felt bad about it for a while, but once he got used to it, he loved being a househusband. He felt like he was making a real contribution. He was able to do things he never had time for. He makes a little money on the side from his hobbies. He's very happy. He says some of his friends tell him in private that they envy him." "I don't know…" "Just think about it. Take all the time you need," Kathy said. "A day, a week, a month, whatever you need, but think about it seriously. I think it would be good for you, but it's your decision. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you, but please, please, do consider it." "Alright," I said, as much to end the conversation as anything. "Good, it's settled." I didn't think it was settled at all but let it go. "Now, Sharon tells me there's an exhibition downtown that's right up your alley. Finish your coffee, and let's go." The exhibition was as good as advertised. I don't know about the girls, but I had a good time. Model trains aren't everybody's cup of tea. Kathy knew my fascination, even though I hadn't had a set since I was a kid. I think she was bored after the first ten minutes, but she let me have the run of the place to gawk over them. She and Sharon feigned interest when I explained all about the different scales and old rail lines. They smiled and nodded, and then let me run off to the next display while they hung about to talk. The rest of week was taken up with various activities. Some I enjoyed more than others, none as much as the trains. It was all a good distraction from my troubles and had me worn out by evening. Between the activity and the meds, I was getting some much-needed rest. When I woke up dry on Friday morning, I thought I was turning a corner. Kathy praised me, which actually made me feel a little worse, but I took it in the spirit it was intended and didn't say anything. That night, it was decided, we would stay in for movies and margaritas. I took it easy, because I didn't know how the alcohol would react with my meds. Kathy made up for it, drinking the rest of my share as well as her own. She was pretty toasted by the end of the evening. She knocked over her glass and cut here finger picking up broken pieces. I thought we might have to take her to the emergency room, but we got the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. "Geez, that hurts," she slurred. "Um, Sharon? I'm not sure I can take care of Davey like this. Would you mind?" "What!" Sharon and I said in unison. "This really hurts, and I'm not sure I can work the tapes." "I can do it myself." "I don't know that you can, and neither do you. You've never done it before, and it has to be harder to put one on yourself than someone else. I don't want you leaking all over the place by putting it on wrong, and I'm sure Sharon doesn't either." I looked to Sharon for support, but she had an amused grin on her face. She was actually warming to the idea. "You're right, Kathy. A diaper isn't much good if it leaks all over. Sure, I'll help out. I'm sure Davey won't mind." "But…" "It's not like she hasn't seen one before," Kathy said, anticipating my protest. "And it's just this one time. I'll be better tomorrow. You two go on upstairs. I'll clean up down here." "Just put everything in the sink. You shouldn't get that finger wet. Come on, Davey. Auntie Sharon will get you ready for night-night." "That's right," Kathy laughed. "You be a good boy for Auntie Sharon." I didn't like being treated like a little boy, but I wrote it off to their inebriation. I took Sharon's outstretched hand and followed her upstairs. She went right to work getting a diaper laid out for me. I stood there unsure I could go through with it. "Take off your pants, silly. We can't do anything with those on. Here, let Auntie help." Before I could react, she was undoing my pants and pushing them down. "Why, Davey! I'm flattered, but what would your mommy say?" I was deeply embarrassed by my tumescent state, but her reaction to it only made it worse. I started to apologize, but Sharon cut me off. "Don't worry about it. Little boys are always doing that when they get their diapers changed. Now, let's get those clothes off, so we can get you all wrapped up. We wouldn't want any accidents, would we?" Sharon was obviously more drunk than I thought. I hoped she, at least, wouldn't remember this in the morning. I told myself to just get through it, and finished undressing. I lay down on the open diaper and looked away, waiting for this to be over. "Oh, it looks like baby is getting a bit of a rash, I'd better get some powder for that." She started to leave but turned right around folded the front of the diaper up over me. "Just in case. You never know with boys." She was gone for a few minutes, which was enough for me to subside a little. She had just walked in the door when we heard a thud on the stairs. "Whoopsies," we heard between giggles. "You alright out there?" Sharon asked. "Yeah, fine. Be right up." There was another, smaller thump followed by more giggles. "Right up." Sharon shook her head, smiling, and got back to work. She drew back the diaper and sprinkled the powder, quite a lot in my opinion. That brought me back to my previous state. She started to smooth it, and I whimpered. Kathy chose that moment to walk in the door. "Davey, you naughty boy! I should spank you for that." "Don't spank him. He just a little sweet on his Auntie Sharon, aren't you, baby? Besides, you know how boys are. Remember when we used to babysit my cousins?" "Yes," Kathy laughed. "Roger especially. Did he get that from his father? Your aunt is a lucky woman." "So she says." All this talk was not helping my situation, neither was the fact that Sharon was still rubbing in the powder. Kathy sat down next to me. "Is that true, baby? Do you have a little crush on Auntie Sharon? Do you like it when she rubs you down there? Oops! I guess you do!" "Oh, dear. I guess we'll have to start over. I'll go get a washcloth." Sharon went to the bathroom, while I wished I could have died right there. "I guess wearing diapers has an upside after all," Kathy giggled. I just hoped she would feel the same way when she was sober. Sharon returned with a wet washcloth and with much greater efficiency, had me cleaned up, powdered and diapered in no time. I got up to put on my pajamas and take my meds. Kathy was lying back and moaning a little. "What about you, girlfriend? Are you going to be alright, or does Auntie Sharon need to put a diaper on you too? You don't look so good." "No. I'm a big girl," Kathy slurred. "Okay, but if you're wet in the morning, you'll be the one getting the spanking." That image had me stirring again. I helped Sharon undress Kathy and get her into the bed. Sharon kissed my cheek and told me not to worry. We were all friends and more than a little drunk. I knew that wasn't true of me but recognized it was her way of saying the episode was nothing more than a little harmless fun. We said goodnight, and I climbed in next to Kathy. I don't know if my dreams were more disturbing or exciting. I do know I wasn't anxious for them to end. I had visions of Kathy squirming across Sharon's lap when I realized those sounds weren't in my head. I turned to see Kathy gone and a good size wet spot in her place. I stumbled across the hall to find my dream a reality. Kathy was sprawled face down across Sharon's lap, pleading with Sharon to stop. Her obviously wet panties lay at her feet. "I told you, you should have worn a diaper last night," Sharon said as she landed a slap to Kathy's already glowing behind. "Remember those parties in college. You should know better than to drink that much." I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. Sharon took notice of my presence. "Good morning, Davey. You see what happens to little girls who don't listen to Auntie?" "Oh no! Dave! Go away. Please." "Quiet," Sharon said with another slap. "And don't think it can't happen to little boys either. Well, young lady, have you learned your lesson yet?" "Yes. Yes!" "Alright, go get cleaned up, and bring those sheets down to be washed." Kathy scrambled off Sharon's lap and fairly ran from the room, avoiding eye contact with me. I could hear her sniffling in the bathroom. "You clean up too," Sharon instructed. "I'll start breakfast." That brought my attention to the diaper hanging low on my hips. I wasn't making as much progress as I had thought. I passed Kathy in the bathroom door. She still wouldn't look at me. She must have worked fast, because by the time I was clean and fresh, the bed was stripped, and she was nowhere in sight. I got dressed and found her in the kitchen helping with breakfast. She gave me a sheepish "good morning." I hugged her and gave her a kiss that was far more than perfunctory. That seemed to brighten her spirits. We all sat down to breakfast as if nothing had happened. I really wanted to know more about what I saw this morning but figured that wasn't the time to ask. It would keep and was probably none of my business anyway. We tidied up the dishes slowly, none of us wishing the visit to end. It was with no small amount of sadness that Kathy and I packed our things and said our goodbyes. We all promised to not wait so long till the next time, and for a change, I meant it. Despite the diapers and the embarrassment that went with them, I had a really good time. We drove in silence for quite some time. I was lost in my thoughts. There was a lot that happened that week and a lot to think about. Mostly though, I thought about what I had witnessed that morning. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Kathy? Remember what you said about elephants in the room?" "Yes," she sighed. "What happened this morning?" It took her a long time to answer. She tried to get me to drop it, but I kept bringing it back up. "You're not going to let this go, are you? Alright, fine." You know Sharon was my sorority sister, right? Well, she was actually my big sister, a sophomore assigned to show a pledge the ropes and generally look after her. One of the things she did for me was to introduce me around. She was really popular and got invited to a lot of parties, and because she did, I did. It was at one of those parties that I got introduced to alcohol. I never drank in high school, and I avoided it the first couple of parties I went to. But it had been a rough week, and I gave in when somebody stuck a cup in my hand. At first, I didn't realize there was alcohol in it. It just seemed like a really sweet punch with a funny aftertaste. I was well into my second one before I knew I was getting buzzed. It felt good. I wanted more. I kept drinking. About the time I felt like I might have had too much, Sharon found me. She told me it was time to go back to the house. I don't think I would have made it without her. I'm sure I threw up at least once on the way. I don't really remember getting back to the house and her dumping me on the bed. I do remember waking up the next morning. Sharon was shaking my leg, telling me to get up. I never knew sunlight could be so painful. It tasted like something died in my mouth, and somebody was beating my head with a hammer. I begged Sharon to let me die in peace. Instead, she pulled off my blankets. I was suddenly very cold. "Oh, geez. Get up. We need to get this stuff in the wash." "Huh?" "Get up. You peed the bed." "What?" "You peed the bed. Get up." "Oh my god. No!" I started bawling. "Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. Half the girls here did the same thing the first time they got drunk." "You?" "Me? No." "Great," I said dejectedly. "Listen, get yourself cleaned up, take some aspirin, have some coffee and toast, and then we can talk about it. Okay?" "Okay." The shower made me feel a little better. I hadn't really learned to drink coffee yet, but the toast helped some. I found Sharon back in my room. She had stripped the bed for me and turned my fan toward the mattress. I had found the rubberized fabric of the mattress strange when I first moved in. Now, I understood why the sorority used them. It was somewhat comforting to know I wasn't the only one, but I still felt ashamed. Sharon hugged me and told me not to worry about it. I was the first, and I wouldn't be the last. It happens to everyone. "It didn't happen to you." "Okay, maybe not everyone, but I've had my share of nights worshipping the porcelain god." The image of Sharon with her head in the toilet did make me chuckle and a little less embarrassed. "I swear, I'm never going to drink again." "Don't make promises you can't keep. You just have to learn to pace yourself. You have to watch those fruity drinks. They go down really easy, and before you know it, you've already had too many. You don't have to stop drinking if you don't want to. Just be careful." "Alright." I took my wet things down to the laundry room. I couldn't avoid passing some of the other girls. Most gave me sympathetic smiles, a kind of been there done that look. I was careful at the next few parties I went to. I did drink some, but I went slow and never let it get beyond a mild buzz. That ended after midterms. I felt so relieved to have made it over that hurdle, I let myself go. Sharon took me aside and told me I should ease up. I told her I was fine and bumped into a wall. She told me to remember what happened the last time. I waved her off. It was a good thing the party was at the sorority house, or I never would have made it home. As it was, Sharon found me the next morning on the floor of the bathroom. There was vomit in my hair and around the toilet bowl, and I was lying in a puddle of pee. Sharon got me on my feet and into the shower. She didn't bother with my clothes. That first burst of water was a real shock, and I thought my head would explode, and really hope that it would. As the water warmed, I started to feel human again. I got undressed and washed the assorted fluids of me. Sharon was waiting for with a towel. "Thank you," I said, drying off. "I feel awful. Never again." "You said that before. You should feel awful. You were really pounding them last night. You deserve that hangover. But listen, drinking like that isn't good for you; in fact, it's dangerous. Even if the alcohol doesn't kill you, you can do all kinds of crazy things to get hurt or let someone hurt you. And it sure isn't any fun for me, having to clean up after you." "I know. I'm sorry." "Yeah, yeah, save it. You're sorry, because you head hurts. But if you did anything to hurt the house while you were like that, it would be my ass on the line too. I'm responsible for you." "I didn't know. I'm sorry." "Well, just think about it. And think about what would happen if you got in real trouble. What if you got called in front of the dean?" I paled. "Oh my god. My mom would have my butt. I would be able to sit down for a month." "Your mom still spanks you." "Well, she did last year, when I came home an hour after curfew. She might." "Maybe that's what you deserve." Her face was passive. I couldn't tell if she meant it. "You're kidding right?" "Get drunk like that again, and we'll see." I was really good for the rest of the semester. I didn't let myself get more than a little tipsy. I did my work. My grades were good. I felt really good about myself. I had long forgotten that conversation in the shower. The end of term was my undoing. The night after finals, everyone was celebrating, including me. We had a grand old time. I again woke up with a horrible hangout and a wet bed. I was balling up the sheets when Sharon came to check on me. "You did it again, didn't you? I told you to slow down, didn't I? But do you listen? No. 'I'm fine, Sharon.' 'Go away, Sharon.' 'Mind your own business, Sharon.' And look at you now, wet sheets and pissy pants. Remember what I said after midterms?" "What? What are you talking about?" "I told you what would happen if you got this drunk again." I tried to remember, but the pounding in my head made it hard. "I told you deserved spanking then, and you'd get one the next time. This is the next time." "You can't be serious." "Oh, I'm very serious." Sharon grabbed my wrist, sat down on the bed and hauled me across her lap. A softball player, she was really strong, far stronger than me. I didn't stand a chance. "Sharon, no!" I screamed, as she whisked my panties down. She didn't say a word as she lit up my ass. I screamed and squirmed and begged, but she didn't let up until I was limp and bawling. She stood me up and held me while I cried myself out. I told her I was sorry, and I really meant it. "It's okay. It's all over now. Just don't let it happen again, or you'll get more of the same." She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes. "I love you, Kathy. I want you to be safe." She kissed me, not a kiss, kiss, but more than a peck. Then she left me to take care of my laundry and pack for the holidays. It was a long, thoughtful, and uncomfortable bus ride home. "Wow," was all I could think of. After digesting it for a bit, I couldn't help asking, "Did it ever happen again?" "The idea turns you on, doesn't it? Pervert," she chuckled. "If you must know, it did, but I'm not going into gory details." "What about that kiss? Was there more than that?" Kathy blushed and remained silent. I waited. "Okay, yes, we… experimented, nothing serious. I decided I preferred men… mostly." I filed that away. "What about Sharon?" "She's more of an omnivore," Kathy said smiling. "But that's all you're getting. Have you thought about what we talked about? Your job?" "Some. I haven't made any decisions." "Okay." The rest of the trip was idle chitchat and discussion of things we should do before the weekend was out. Although I had two more wet nights, I returned to work on Monday feeling better… for about ten minutes. That's how long it took for my boss to start in on me. He actually had the gall to berate me for taking the week off, time I had earned. That was the last straw. I spent my lunch hour writing up a formal complaint and delivering it to Human Resources. I told them, if they didn't do something about him, they could have my notice, and if they didn't want that, I'd take the sick and vacation pay I had coming, and they could have their job. The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of meetings and discussions about me and my boss. Some of them got pretty heated. A review of my work showed that I was doing my job and doing it well. In the end, though, I was low man on the totem pole, and it was decided we would all be better off, if I applied my skills elsewhere. I was given a letter of recommendation and promised my back pay would be mailed at the next payroll date. For someone who, for all practical purposes, just got canned, I felt great when I cleaned out my desk. Kathy got concerned when she came home and saw the box with my possessions by the door. "What happened?" "I got fired," I said brightly. "Well, 'mutual separation' is what they wrote down in the file." I gave her a blow by blow description of what happened that day with full color commentary. I may have embellished my part a little. "Dave, I'm so proud of you. You did the right thing. I just wish that son of a bitch got what was coming to him." "Not my problem anymore. His file is flagged. He'll get his someday. In the meantime, and for the foreseeable future, you have yourself a little housemaid." "Don't give me ideas. You might look good in a French maid's uniform. I'm just glad you are out of there. Let's go. I'm taking you out to dinner." "Shouldn't we be watching our pennies? I am out of a job now." "We will, but tonight, we celebrate. This is a new beginning." And we did, a great meal, some nice wine, and it didn't end there. We practically ran up to the bedroom, clothes flying as we went. It was the most passionate we had been in quite a while. Afterward, Kathy got me diapered and curled up next to me. "So, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you have all this time on your hands?" "I don't know. I haven't really had a chance to think about it." "You should, you know. Idle hands and all that." "I'm sure I'll think of something." "I hope so. Little boys left on their own can get into all sorts of mischief." She was rubbing the front of my diaper. "I'll be fine." "I hope so. We wouldn't want Mommy to have to spank, would we?" I chuckled. "Would we?" The question wasn't rhetorical. "No." "No, what?" "No… Mommy?" "That's right," she said, rubbing me harder. "You need to be a good boy for Mommy, or Mommy will spank." I moaned, getting my second wind. "Maybe I should get a babysitter to keep you out of trouble. Maybe Auntie Sharon would be available. She could make sure you're a good boy and change you when you are wet. I know you like that. But Auntie Sharon spanks hard; so, you'd better be good." That was it. The diaper came off for round two. I was barely awake when Kathy re-diapered me and kissed me goodnight. The first week as a stay at home husband was great. I cooked, which I enjoyed but never had time for. I did some minor repairs that I had been putting off for a while. I cleaned the house and did the grocery shopping. I didn't enjoy those so much, but they had to be done and weren't as bad as I imagined. Most of all, Kathy was really happy with me and lavished me with praise. The second week was not as good. It was harder to find things to do. Kathy noticed and brought my attention to some things that needed taking care of. By the third week, I was really starting to get bored. Kathy and I were doing some gardening that weekend, when Mrs. Travers, our neighbor across the street, a sweet older lady, came over. I never talked to her much, but she and Kathy were friends. She took Kathy aside, but I couldn't help overhearing their conversation. "I noticed David's been home a lot lately. Is everything alright." "Oh, yes. He's taking some time off, maybe thinking of a second career." "I was just concerned, the economy being the way it is and everything." "No need to worry. We're fine." "Well, if there is anything you need…" "Same here. I'm sure Dave would be happy to help you out, if you need anything." "Well, there are a few odd jobs I need done. I'd pay him, of course." "Nonsense. What are neighbors for? Dave, come here a minute." "Oh, that's all right." "Dave, Travers needs your help. You'll do that, won't you?" "Sure." "What is it you need, Mavis?" "Well, I have a leaky faucet, and the gutters need tending." "No trouble at all Mrs. Travers," I said. "Is tomorrow okay?" "That would be fine, dear, if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble at all. Ten o'clock?" "That sounds fine. Thank you so much." "It's settled then," Kathy said sealing the deal. "He'll be over at ten sharp. You remember to be a good boy for Mrs. Travers, Dave." Mrs. Travers thanked us again but gave us awkward look as she went back to her house. "You didn't need to say that." "I was just having some fun. Can't you take a joke?" I kissed Kathy goodbye the next morning, and she reminded me to be a good boy and be at Mrs. Travers' house at ten. I was there right on time, toolbox and ladder in hand. I decided to start with the gutters, before the day got too hot. They were worse than I imagined, and it took till past noon to get them cleared out. Mrs. Travers insisted on feeding my lunch. The leaky faucet turned out to be a nightmare. It was an old fixture in the guest bath. I don't think anyone had worked on it since before I was born. There was a slow but steady drip that, judging by the calcium deposits on the fixture, had been going on for a long time. It was a chore just turning the shutoff valve and getting the handle off the valve, but when I tried to take out the stem to change the washer, the whole thing snapped. I informed Mrs. Travers and told her I would buy her new hardware. After a bit of an argument, I accepted that she would pay, I insisted on doing the installation. We went to the hardware store together, so she could pick out what she wanted. On the ride she told me all about her children and grandchildren, including the fact that the middle one was still wetting the bed. I set to work on updating the sink. I soon wished that I hadn't offered my assistance. Every nut was frozen. Nothing was easy to reach. The room was so tiny, I couldn't even lie down comfortably to work. As is so often the case with plumbing, I was swearing at it under my breath. Then the wrench slipped. I hit my hand hard against a pipe. I sat up to grab it and bashed my head on the sink. I was loudly cursing a blue streak when Mrs. Travers came to check on me. I was seeing stars and didn't resist when she helped me up. She led me to the kitchen and fixed an icepack for my head. She tended to my wounded hand, applying a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid. "Sorry, dear, that's all I have. I keep them for the grandkids." The room was still spinning when Kathy came over to check on me. I had no idea it had gotten so late. She gasped when she saw me. "It's just a bump on the head, dear, but I think you'd better take him home. He's had a rough day. I'll just call a plumber to finish." "No. I can do it myself." "David, be quiet. Mavis, I'm sorry he was so much trouble for you." "Oh, no trouble. I've tended to more than one skinned knee and bruised ego. But such language!" "David, apologize to Mrs. Travers, right now." "Sorry." "I'm sorry, Mavis. It won't happen again. But please, don't waste your money on a plumber. David will come back tomorrow and finish the job." She turned to me. "And he will watch his language, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." I meant that for Mrs. Travers, but I don't think either of them took it that way. "Good. I'm sorry. He is usually much better behaved. Please let him come back." "Alright," she said reluctantly. "If it means that much to him. But it's no trouble to get a plumber." "I won't hear of it. David will be back first thing in the morning to finish what he started, and he'll be on his best behavior. If he's not, please tell me. Now, I'd better get him home and put him to bed." I handed back the icepack and stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Travers, and thank you for lunch." "It's alright, dear. Get some rest, and you'll feel better in the morning." Kathy took care of the goodbyes, and Mrs. Travers walked us to the door. I hoped she wasn't watching as Kathy gave me an earful crossing the street and landed a couple of hard swats on the seat of my pants. She took me straight upstairs. She got a diaper out and set it on the bed. She got her hairbrush and put it on top. She started undressing me and gave me a real dressing down. "I'm ashamed of you, talking that way in front of a sweet old lady. What were you thinking?" "I'm sorry. I hit my head, and it really hurt." "That's no excuse. You should know better. I have a good mind to wash your mouth out with soap." "You can't do that!" "Try me. If I ever hear something like that again, that's just what I'll do. As for right now, you're getting a good spanking to help you remember." "What? You can't." "You know very well I can. And unless you want me to use your belt on you, you'll get across my lap right now." I remembered the bite of the belt and chose to follow her instructions. She didn't start easy, and she accompanied her task with nonstop scolding. But that was nothing compared to when she started in with the brush. I wouldn't have been surprised if Mrs. Travers heard my cries from across the street. When I was bawling, Kathy told me to get up and marched me to the corner. "You stay there and think about what you did." I kept my face wedged in the corner, not wanting to incur any more of her wrath. I could hear her milling about the room, muttering. Then there was silence. "David, why is your underwear wet?" "What!" "You heard me. Why is your underwear wet?" "What? I didn't." She turned me around and held them where I could see. They were clearly damp. "Did you or did you not wet your pants?" "I don't know." "Of course, you know! Look at these!" "I guess, maybe a little. I don't remember. Maybe when I hit my head?" "That's no excuse. You can't go around wetting your pants during the day. It's bad enough you do that at night." "You said you didn't mind." "You know what I mean. But daytime accidents are a different story. Do you need to be in diapers all the time? Do I need to hire a babysitter? Maybe Mrs. Travers would like the job." "I'm sorry," I cried. "It won't happen again." "It had better not, or I'll have to rethink leaving you home alone. Lie down. You're going to bed right now." "I have to go to the bathroom." "Then go. At least, you remember some of your potty training." I lay in bed thinking about what Kathy said. She wouldn't make me wear diapers in the daytime. It was just that I hit my head. But she did it before. That didn't work out well. Seriously, she couldn't really get a babysitter. I didn't know what to think. Between conking myself and what followed, I was exhausted and didn't last long. I had strange and fitful dreams. I was soaked the next morning. Kathy was laying out clothes when I came back from the shower. "Put these on." She handed me something I didn't recognize. "What are these?" "Training pants." I turned the puffy object over in my hands. "I'm not wearing those." "Yes, you are, unless you'd prefer to wear a diaper. Of course, you'll have to bring a spare, incase Mrs. Travers needs to change you." "You wouldn't." "Would you like to discuss it with Mr. Hairbrush?" "No." "Then get dressed. You have work to do." The disposable underwear wasn't as thick or noisy as a diaper, but I still felt very conspicuous. I was feeling very contrite when Kathy rang Mrs. Travers' doorbell. "Good morning, Mavis. I brought David over to finish his work. He's going to be on his best behavior today and not give you any more trouble. If he does, I'd appreciate it if you told me. And if he needs it, you have my permission to spank him." "I'm sure that won't be necessary, dear," she said with a nervous laugh, no doubt hoping that was a joke. I knew it wasn't and blushed hotly. "Be a good boy, David. I'll see you tonight. And no swearing." It took me all day and another trip to the hardware store for new shutoff valves, but I finally got the sink done. I even managed to keep from swearing out loud. I did end up quietly crying at one point from holding it in. When it was all done, I was quite proud of myself, and Mrs. Travers was pleased. I was finishing the snack she made me, when Kathy came to take me home. "How was he today, Mavis?" "Good as gold, dear. Good as gold. I don't know what you said to him, but it did the trick. And such a good job he did. The new faucets are just beautiful." "I'm so glad to hear that. David, say thank you to Mrs. Travers." "Thank you," I mumbled, my mouth filled with cookie. "David, don't talk with your mouth full." "It's alright, dear. He deserves his reward. If I could borrow him again, I might have some other jobs for him to do?" "Anytime, Mavis. Anytime. I'm happy to have him here where somebody can keep an eye on him. But now I think it's time I get him home and fed, unless he's spoiled his appetite with your cookies." "I only had two," I complained. I saw Mrs. Travers hold up three fingers. "Well, we'll see if we can get some real food in him anyway. David, finish your milk; it's time to go." I downed the half full glass and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. I thanked Mrs. Travers for the cookies, and we headed home. Kathy told me she was proud of me for being a good boy. That made me feel good. But, she warned me, she expected no more bad behavior reports. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Then she stuck her hands down the front of my pants. "Just checking. Seems a little damp down there. Drop 'em." "I didn't. I swear." "You'd better not swear. Now, let's see those training pants." She unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants to my feet. She pulled the disposable underwear—I preferred the euphemism—inside out and down where she could get a good look. "Hmm. Definitely a little damp, but maybe it's just sweat. You could do a better job wiping though." She pulled them back up and went to make dinner. I was left standing with my pants at my ankles, wondering what just happened. The evening was business as usual. At bedtime, she said her little boy deserved a reward for being so good all day. I got it too, and how. Kathy had another pair of training pants out the next day. "Why do I have to wear these? I stayed dry yesterday." "I think you know why." "No, why?" "Because Mommy says so." She wrapped her arms around me and gave my bottom a squeeze. "And little boys who do what Mommy says get rewarded." She gave me a smack. "And you know what happens to little boys who don't." I quickly put on the paper pants. "Good boy. Get dressed. Mommy has to go to work." I tidied up around the house and puttered in the garden a little. I couldn't help but think about the night before and what Kathy implied that morning. I went to the store and bought a roast, hoping a nice dinner would earn me another of her rewards. With dinner in the oven, I was at a loss for what to do. I sat down to watch some TV and was soon asleep, dreaming of "Mommy." "Oh, David!" I sat straight up. "Get up, quick." I stood up, and that's when I felt it. The training pants were leaking. "Go change. I'll take care of this." I could hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice. I came back to find her laying towel over the cushion. I told her I was sorry. "It wasn't too bad. I think I got it in time. Let's just eat. It smells wonderful." It was good, if I do say so myself. Kathy's praise for it was effusive. Then she turned serious. "David, what we going to do? I know you can't help your bedwetting, and that's alright. It really is, and we're dealing with it. But what are we going to do about this wetting in the daytime? It's obvious the training pants aren't up to the job." "I'm sorry. I wasn't even planning on going to sleep." "That's my point. If you're going to drop off like that, you could end up ruining the furniture." "I'll just stay awake. That's all." "You didn't today." "But now, I know I have to." "David, I don't want to deprive you of your sleep. If you need a nap, you should be able to take one." "I could put a diaper on myself," I suggested. "Yes, I do think we need to teach you to do that. But that's only going to help if you know you are going to sleep. What about days like today, when you just drop off?" "I don't know." "I think there's only solution that's really practical." I didn't like the sound of that. "You're just going to have to have a nap every day. That way, you won't just be nodding off unprotected." "But I don't need a nap every day." "I'm sorry, but I don't see any way around it. Unless you prefer I get a sitter who can make sure you stay awake or gets you diapered?" "No, I don't want that." "Then you'll just have to start taking naps. Do the dishes, and we'll see if we can teach you how to put on a diaper by yourself. And use the potty. We don't need any accidents in the middle of the lesson." That was it; the discussion was closed. I met her upstairs when the dishes were done. She had several diapers stacked up on the bed. "Why so many?" "It might take you a few tries to get it on right, and the tapes on these don't take repositioning well. If you mess up, we'll have to start from scratch. Here, let me help you get undressed." She kissed me while she unbuttoned my shirt. I thought we'd get to the instructions part later, and it showed. No such luck. "Okay. The first thing is to unfold the diaper and lay it out like this." "I could have guessed that." "Don't get smart; just listen. Now you lie down on top. You know how to do that already. Well, go on; I can't very well teach you this while you're standing up. Good. Now, lift your bottom and take the bottom two tapes. That's it. Now, move the diaper so the tapes are at the bend in your hips. No, a little higher. Let me feel. That's it. Good boy. Put your bottom down. Now, pull the front up and put the tapes on, snug as you can without stretching anything. Don't let the diaper move, or you'll have to start again. No, no, don't pull the front over so far; keep it centered. That's it. Good job. Now, tuck in all of the side flaps. That's right; we don't want those sticking out. Now, we do the top tapes, nice and snug. Very good! Stand up and let me check you. My goodness, you did so good, and on your first try! We'll just tuck these parts under to make sure nothing gets out. There, all ready for bed." I don't know what the all the fuss was about. It's not like it was brain surgery. Still, she managed to make me feel proud of myself. I reached to undo the tapes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I'm taking it off." "Why? It's on there so nice." "It's early, and I'm not sleepy." "Well, there's no sense in wasting it. If you take it off, we'll just have to throw it away. Just leave it on. Mommy will make it worthwhile," she teased. "Really?" I said hopefully. "Uh huh," she said, unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay." She knew what I liked. She didn't often let me spend much time with her titties, but that night, she let me suck and play with them to my heart's content. Meanwhile, she pleasured herself. "Oh, baby!" she cried out after her third orgasm. "You make Mommy feel so good." She brought my face to hers and kissed me deeply. I was looking forward to the main event. "We'll have to let you nurse more often. That was fantastic. Are you ready to go night-night, or do you want to watch some television?" "Aren't we going to… you know?" "Baby, what did I say about wasting diapers? That's not coming off until morning, unless you need a change before. So, what's if going to be, bed or TV?" I would have wet myself if I could have, but the state she had me in prevented it. "TV, I guess," I said with a pout. "Aw, don't be that way. If you're a good boy, maybe Mommy will let you nurse some more before bed." That cheered me a little. We put on our nightclothes and went downstairs. Even though Kathy picked out a movie that would appeal more to me than to her, I was still a bit sullen. Kathy noticed. "What's the matter, sweetie? Do you still want Mommy's titty? Come here, baby." She had me lie down with my shoulders in her lap. She supported my head with her arm, braced by the arm of the sofa. She pushed her nightgown out of the way. "Be gentle. Mommy's still tender from before." It wasn't what I really wanted, but it was still nice. I had seen the movie several times before. I could see it in my head just from the dialogue. Kathy was idly rubbing my chest and belly. It was very relaxing. I felt a twinge in my bladder and figured, what the heck? It wasn't like she was going to let me go to the bathroom anyway. It took some effort, but I did manage to overcome my resistance and let the liquid flow. Kathy must have noticed a change in me. She stuck her had inside my pajama pants and squeezed my diaper. "Good boy," she murmured, and she continued to rub down there. I was actually getting turned on. I was starting to squirm, trying to get a little more pressure on the front to the diaper. My suckling became more passionate, and I reached up to play with the other breast. I felt a slap on my padded behind. "Mommy said 'gentle.' If you can't be nice, I'm going to put you to bed." That brought about a definite pout from me. "Don't be like that; you were told. Let's get you turned around and you can have the other side for a while, but be nice." "Okay," I sighed. "What was that?" Yes… Mommy." "That's better. You just nurse nicely while we finish the movie. Then Mommy will get you tucked in." I was more on my side this time, and Kathy rubbed my back and bottom. I think I must have drifted off, because Kathy was telling me it was time for bed. I got my bearings and sat up. I didn't think I had been that wet when we switched breasts. Kathy took my hand and led me upstairs. She took off my pajama pants and said she was right; I would need a change before bed. She laid me down and untaped the used but not soggy garment. I asked to use the bathroom. "Really? I wouldn't think you had any more in you right now." "For… the other." "Oh, yes, of course. Go make poopies, and then we'll get you set for night-night." She patted my naked bottom as I went. She didn't really have to put it that way, I thought. I wasn't gone long, but she had a new diaper laid out, as well as some powder. "What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the powder. "It will make you more comfortable, and it will make you smell nice." "It'll make me smell like a baby." "Exactly, is there anything that smells better than a freshly changed baby? Besides, at the moment, you are acting like one. You may as well smell the part." "You know I can't help it. It's the stress. And those pills make me so sleepy, I don't know…" "That's not what I meant. You've been cranky and moody all night. Lie down, so Mommy can get your dipee on." I lay down, but not without telling her I didn't appreciate the baby talk. "You liked it well enough when we were playing here a while ago." She took a wet wipe and ran it up my butt crack. "And if this is the kind of job you do wiping yourself, maybe you are one. Does Mommy have to help you when you make a stinky in the potty?" "Kathy!" I complained. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding… for now, but make sure you do a better job in the future. If I'm going to have to clean your poopy bottom anyway, I may as well keep you in diapers full time." I gasped. "Relax. I didn't say I was going to do it…. I just haven't ruled out the possibility," she said with a grin that was either playful or threatening. I couldn't tell which. She powdered me nicely, but I was disappointed that she stopped when I started to stir. She finished the rest of the process efficiently and soon had me tucked in. She got in beside me and had me face her. "Unless we run into some problems, here are the rules from now on. I want you to lie down every afternoon around one o'clock. A little bit earlier, a little bit later, doesn't matter, as long as it's not past two. Whatever you might be planning that would take longer than that can wait until after you rest. I want you in a diaper when you lie down. You showed me you can do it yourself, and I feel better knowing you are protected. If you wet while you are napping, go ahead and put your pull-ups back on. If you don't, I want you to keep the diaper on until you use it; that way it's not wasted, and I know you aren't cheating. If you don't sleep at naptime, I want you in a diaper until I get home. I can't have you falling asleep without one on. If you have to change once or twice before I get back, that's okay, but no wasting. If I find you aren't taking your naps or you are running around without a diaper when you should have one on, Mommy will spank, understand?" I nodded, wide eyed. For some reason, I was getting aroused. "Say, 'yes, Mommy.'" "Yes, Mommy." "Good boy. And remember, good boys who do what Mommy says get rewards." She kissed me. "Night-night, baby." "Night-night, Mommy," I yawned. I started to plan out my day for tomorrow, but I was off to dreamland. I had finished mowing the lawn, and working on pulling some weeds, when I heard a car pull into the driveway. I wasn't pulling weeds anymore. I was pushing trucks around a sandbox. "Mommy!" I yelled. "There's my little man," Kathy beamed. But her face turned cold. "Davey, just look at you." I looked down. My hands were filthy, and there was sand stuck to the wet front of my little shorts. I looked up surprised. "David, did you take your nap today?" "I wasn't sleepy." "Where's your diaper?" "I forgot," I said sheepishly. "You forgot? What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" "Um…" "I said I wanted you to go down for a nap at one o'clock and to make sure you put your diaper on." "I didn't know it was so late." "Is that so? Did you not know you need to go potty either? "I…" "Davey, I'm very disappointed in you. Get in the house this instant." I ran in the house and was almost through the kitchen. "Stop right there, mister. Take off those filthy clothes. You're not going track sand all through the house." I didn't want to. Getting undressed in the kitchen meant I would have to walk right past the picture window to get upstairs. "But…" "No buts," she said, striding over and pulling my shirt right over my head. She made quick work of my sandals and shorts and left me standing in a drooping pull-up. She shook her head and started pulling it down. She gasped when she saw a small, firm poop inside. She got it off me and balled it up "David, you naughty, naughty boy. Get upstairs right now. You need a bath." She turned me around and planted a stinging slap on my damp bottom. I ran up the stairs, no longer caring if I was seen. Kathy was not far behind. "Sit on the potty and try to go poopy." She started the bath and added some sweet-smelling bubbles. "Honestly, I thought you were a big boy. I thought I could trust you. Did you go?" I shook my head. I was getting teary, because she was mad at me. "Get in the tub. This discussion isn't over, but you're just too filthy to deal with at the moment." I jumped in the tub, hoping compliance would earn me a few points. She scrubbed me from head to toe. "I have no idea how one little boy can get so dirty? How did you get sand in there?" I didn't know either, and I felt bad I was making work for her. She was hardly gentle, and I was glad when she finished. She dried me just as roughly, then ordered me into the bedroom. "What have you got to say for yourself?" she demanded. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry is not an excuse. Did you deliberately disobey me, or are you too much of a baby to leave on your own? I think I'm going to have to have Mrs. Travers come over and watch you during the day." "I don't need a babysitter," I whined. "I'm a big boy." "Then you are a naughty, disobedient boy, and I know just how to deal with that," she said, snatching up her hairbrush and hauling down across her lap. "I told you what would happen, if you didn't listen to Mommy. You have no one to blame but yourself." "Mommy, no!" My bottom was quickly ablaze. I was screaming out apologies and promising to be good. I was bawling my eyes out and shaking. No, I wasn't shaking. I was being shaken. "David, David, Wake up." I shouted something incoherent. I looked around. It was dark. I saw Kathy. I threw my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry! I won't wet my pants again. I'll take my nap. I'll wear my diapers. Don't spank me. I'm sorry!" I sobbed and sobbed. Mommy… Kathy held and shushed me. "There, there, baby, it's all over now. It was just a bad dream. Mommy loves you. You're Mommy's good boy; yes, you are. Let's get you changed, so we can go back to sleep." I was soaked, but Kathy took care of it like it was nothing. She made such short work of it; I didn't even become fully conscious. I just followed her instructions, lifting up when she asked, and I was soon dry and nuzzling her. "No, baby. Mommy's sore. Try to go back to sleep. Mommy will see about buying you a baba and a binky tomorrow." That thought didn't register enough to consciously think about it, but it did sink in enough that I dreamt of nursing from a giant bottle. My thumb was wrinkled when I woke up. The night must have been harder on me than I realized. I had no trouble putting on a diaper and taking a nap the next day or the day after. Kathy made me show her the used diapers when she saw I was wearing pull-ups. She praised me for being a good boy. The day after that, try as I might, I just couldn't fall asleep. I went ahead and wet the diaper, so I could show Kathy I hadn't wasted it, but then I put on a pull-up and went about the rest of my afternoon. We sat down to watch TV after dinner. I was nodding off before the first commercial. "David?" "Hmm?" I asked groggily. "David, did you have a nap today?" "Mm-mm," I acknowledged. "Is that a no?" I nodded. "Then where's your diaper?" "Used it." "I know that, but why don't you have one on now?" "Don' need one." "That's not the rule, and you know it. Get up. You're going to bed right now." "Wanna stay up with you." "Nothing doing. You get upstairs right now, unless you want to go to bed with a sore bottom." That woke me up. "But it's early," I whined. "David, I'm warning you for the last time." "Okay, I'm going," I huffed and all but stomped out of the room. "And use the potty. I'll be up in a minute to put your diaper on." I did as I was told; I did have to go. Kathy came in and laid out a diaper while I was getting undressed. Before I knew it, she had me squared away and tucked in. Seemingly out of nowhere, she stuck bottle in my mouth. "Leave that there. I bought it as a joke, but maybe it's appropriate after all. You know the rules, David. It was very naughty of you to break them. I feel like you lied to me. I'm very disappointed in you." That stirred up memories of my nightmare. "We will talk about this in the morning. In the meantime, drink your baba and go to sleep. I expect it to be empty when I come to bed. I'm very upset with you right now." I was upset too, as much with myself as being made to drink from a baby's bottle. Still, I was tired and didn't last long. I woke up briefly to find the bottle being replaced in my mouth and held there. The next thing I remember was Kathy's waking me to get changed and "have a talk." I came back from the bathroom to time a diaper waiting on the bed. Kathy was sitting next to it, hairbrush in hand. I immediately protested. "I get it. I'm sorry. If I don't take a nap, I'll wear a diaper till you say so. You don't have to do this." "You'll get it alright. And I do have to do this, because it seems the only time you listen to me is when you're face down over my lap. Get over here now." I reluctantly went and climbed into position. She didn't waste any time in starting to warm my seat. "You deliberately disobeyed me, and then you pretended like you took a nap. You thought you were real smart, didn't you? Thought you could fool me into thinking you took a nap, didn't you? What do you think would have happened if you fell asleep before I got home? I'll tell you what would have happened; you would have wet your pants and made a royal mess, that's what. You are a naughty, naughty, little boy. Lying to Mommy, Mommy is so angry with you. Are you going to make me have to hire a sitter for you? Is that what I have to do, because Mommy's little boy can't be trusted?" "No! Please, don't! I'll be good. I promise!" She stopped spanking. "Alright, fine, I'll give you one more chance. Get up, and let's get your diaper on. You are in diapers all day, and I do mean all day. I'm going to call you from time to time, and you had better be wearing your diaper, because you are going to send me a picture to prove it, and if you aren't wearing one, or it takes longer than I think it should for you to send it, you won't sit down for a week, and I will find you that sitter. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes." "Excuse me?" "Yes, Mommy. Yes." "Good. Now, get your nose in that corner." She left for a few minutes. "I set up your computer with the webcam on, and I set an alarm. Don't you dare move until the alarm goes off. I may not be able to watch you all the time, but you won't know when I do. So, you'd better be on your best behavior and do exactly as Mommy says, understood?" "Yes, Mommy," I said dejectedly. "I do love you, baby, but you have to be a good boy and do what Mommy says, okay?" "Okay." "That's my good boy." She kissed and hugged me. "Okay, nose back in the corner, and don't move till the alarm goes off. Remember; Mommy's watching." She turned me around and patted my behind. I was left with my thoughts. I hoped not for too long. That hope didn't last. With no frame of reference but my own world, which was defined by the two walls I got to stare at, the seconds ticked slowly. I got to dwell on why I was standing there. Because Mommy, I mean Kathy, was mean. No, she wasn't; I did this to myself. Why couldn't I have handled things better? I could have stood up to my boss. I could have gone to HR sooner. I could have quit. Why didn't I? Because I was afraid. What good would that have done? I'd have just been out of a job sooner. Why did I have to start that again? And why wasn't it stopping. I got rid of the stress. I quit. But I still couldn't keep dry. It's no wonder Kathy treated me like a baby. Why did she do that? Why wouldn't she, when I was in diapers every night. Some Man. But it was kind of nice. It felt good to be snuggled. It felt really good to be suckled. She was actually being really nice… when she wasn't spanking me. Why did she have to do that? And why didn't I stop her? What was I supposed to do, hit her back? I couldn't do that. And it's not like I didn't bring them on myself. I didn't listen. Why should I have to listen? I'm a grown man. But I was acting like a little boy. A little boy who can't keep his pants dry. And so, it went on until the alarm chimed. Less than a minute later, Kathy called. "You stayed in the corner the whole time. Good boy. I knew you could listen when you wanted to. The webcam is still on. Show me your diaper." I positioned myself and the camera so she could look. "Still dry. Good. I have to get back to work now. I'll call and check on you a little later. Be a good boy for Mommy, and get your chores done. I'll talk to you before naptime. I love you, sweetie. Bye-bye." She hung up before could get a word in. There was nothing for it but to get on with my day. I wasn't very hungry, but coffee was welcome. I puttered around, taking care of what I had to, making the bed, doing the laundry and dishes. I wet myself a little; there didn't seem any point in holding it. Kathy called around eleven. "Hi, baby. How's your day going? Are you being a good boy?" "Yes, Mommy. I'm almost done with my chores." "That's my good baby. Speaking of which. Send me a picture of your diaper." I snapped a pic and sent it to her. "Just a little wet. You'll be fine till nap time. Mommy needs to get back to work. I want you to find some more things to do around the house. You're still on punishment; so, no TV or computer till Mommy says so. But make sure the webcam is facing the bed. I may want to check in on you during your nap. Be a good boy. I love you, baby. I'll talk to you later." Now facing a day of boredom, I looked for things to do. I vacuumed the carpets and washed the floors. That kept me busy until lunchtime. I had a sandwich and a soda. By that time, I was looking forward to a change. When the phone rang, I thought it was Kathy. "Hi, Mom…" "David, it's Mrs. Travers across the street. Could you come help me, please?" "I'd be happy to Mrs. Travers, but right now isn't a very good time. May later this afternoon?" It was getting close to one o'clock, and Kathy was going to want me in bed. "I'm sorry, David. It really can't wait. The toilet is backing up, and I can't stop it. Please help." She sounded desperate. I was torn over what to do. "David, are you there?" "Yes," I said stupidly, coming out of my head. "Yes, Mrs. Travers. Let me just grab some tools, and I'll be right over." "Thank you, David. You're a lifesaver." The first order of business was to call Kathy. I needed to tell her what was going on. Her cell went straight to voicemail. I didn't want to just leave a message; so, I called her office. "Ms. Henderson's office. May I help you?" "Hi, Mandy. It's David." "Oh, hi, David. I hear you're taking some time off. That must be so great. I wish I could do that." "Mandy," I broke in. "I need to speak to Kathy. Could you put me through please?" "I'm sorry I can't. She's in a meeting, and she said no interruptions, unless it's life and death. It's not, is it?" "No… um… just have her call me, will you?" "Sure thing. Is everything alright?" "Um… fine. You have her call. Thanks." I put on my baggiest sweats and hoped they'd hide what was under them. I threw my snake, a plunger, some wrenches, and a couple of kinds of pliers in a duffle and headed across the street to Mrs. Travers. "David, hurry, hurry. It's getting worse!" I followed the sound of running water until I saw it. How did she let it get this far? The bathroom was flooded, and it was flowing out into the hallway. I stuck my phone in a pocket of the duffel and set the bag down in a spot near the door that was still dry. "Get me all the towels you can. Clean, dirty, doesn't matter. Quick!" She brought me a couple of kitchen towels. "No, bath towels. The bigger the better. And as many as you can carry." This time, she understood. I tossed them around the room, and they were saturated as soon as they hit the floor. "Have you got more?" She nodded. "Get them. All of them." I squatted beside the toilet and tried to turn the shutoff valve. Nothing. I grabbed a pair of channel locks from my bag and tried to muscle the knob again. Before the valve finally budged, I was afraid the strain would make me poop my pants. I did pee them a little. Thank heaven that didn't happen. I was making some headway, when my phone rang. I had to get the water off; so, I ignored it. Was it really necessary to put so many threads on these stupid valves? The phone rang again. Again, I ignored it. I could hear the flow slowing. I was getting close. Like the sink, this valve was long unused and heavily corroded. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to turn that last little bit without breaking it off. The phone was ringing again. "Mrs. Travers! Could you answer my phone for me? I kind of have my hands full." I could see her looking at it like it was a snake in her hand. "Just slide your finger up the screen. That's it. And hit the button that says 'Answer.'" "David, where the hell are you," I could hear Kathy's voice all the way across the room. "You're not in your bed, and I've been calling and calling. What is going…" "Kathy, dear." Mrs. Travers found her voice and near shouted. "It's Mavis. David can't talk right now…. No, he's fine. It's my toilet. It was flooding the house. David was a godsend, coming over to fix it…. Is he what? Well, yes, he is. There was quite a lot of water on the floor…. Oh…. Oh my…" I didn't hear any more. Mrs. Travers had wandered down the hall. I still needed to get the water shut down. The valve finally did close, and I shouted for Mrs. Travers to let her know. Nothing. I threw the soggy towels into the bathtub and used the last couple of dry ones to make a relatively dry spot to work. I took the lid off the tank to see why it was running like that. The arm on the old ball float had corroded right off. Always when there's a clog, I thought to myself. I got my snake to start working on the clog. It didn't go very far. It hit an obstruction almost immediately. Whatever it was, it was hard. I pulled the snake out, and a fair amount of toilet paper came with it. I went back it and hit the object again. I tried to dislodge it with the snake, but it wouldn't move forward, and I couldn't get the spring to snag it. There was nothing for it but to do it manually. I pushed up my sleeve, knelt down, and plunged my hand into the cold water. I tried really hard not to think about where my hand was or what it might find. I pulled out more toilet paper and gagged a little. In again, I felt the object. There was more paper around it, but I able to get my fingers around it. It was wedge in pretty tight, but it broke free, and the water in the bowl quickly went down. I swished off the paper and found a toy car. "I found the problem," I shouted. No reply. Where did she go? "Mrs. Travers?" I yelled. "I'm going to have to go to the hardware store. You need a new float valve." "You got it fixed. Thank heaven." I must have jumped a foot. I wasn't expecting her to be right there. "Almost," I said, trying to get my heart back where it belonged. "I'm going to need some parts." "Dear, oh dear, look at you. You're soaked to the skin. Come with me. I have some dry things you can change into." "That's okay. I can just run home." "Nonsense. You'll catch your death. Come." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bedroom. I stopped short, when I got to the door. There, on the bed were some my clothes, and sitting right on top was a diaper. I almost didn't hear Mrs. Travers speaking. "Kathy told me about your little problem, dear. I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry about taking you away from your nap. How about we get you into something dry? Then you can have a snack and a little lie down before you go to the store." Before I knew it, Mrs. Travers pulled my sweats to my feet. "Mrs. Travers!" I shouted. "My, you are soaked to the skin, aren't you? Don't worry. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy." She was guiding me toward the bed and pushing me down. "What's that you have in your hand? Oh, Matthew, that boy! You can keep that, if you want, Davey. Matthew won't be getting it back. But let's give it a wash first. We know where it's been." She gingerly took the car and set it aside. Then she reached for the tapes on my diaper. "Mrs. Travers, no! I mean, I can do this myself." "No need to fret, dear. Mr. Travers had the same problem toward the end. I'm an old hand at this." "But…" "It's the least I can do, dear. And I told Kathy I'd take good care of you this afternoon. Just lie still, and we'll have you nice and dry in no time." I tried to squirm and push her hands away. She slapped mine. "We'll have none of that nonsense. Kathy gave me permission to spank you the last time you were here. Don't make me have to do it." I looked at her wide-eyed. She gave me a look that said not to tempt her. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was someplace, anyplace else. That didn't work very well, since I had to lift while she got everything adjusted. She did make short work of it after that, and she was pulling my shoes, socks and sweats off my feet. I sat there dumbfounded, as she changed my shirt, put socks on my feet and had me step into my pants. "There," she said, satisfied, "all dry. Come on down to the kitchen. You can have some cookies and a nice glass of milk." She thanked me profusely while I ate. She made very good cookies. I reached for another. "Uh-uh," he said, as she took away the plates. "What would Kathy say, if I spoiled your appetite? Finish your milk, and we'll put you down for a nice little nap." "But I need to go to the hardware…" She cut me off, wiping my face with a damp cloth. "Plenty of time for that after your nap. I promised Kathy, and there won't be any more discussion about it. Come along." She took my hand and led me to a different bedroom, one she obviously kept for the grandkids. There was a wide assortment of toys and cartoon bedding. Whether very young, a bit older, girl or boy, whoever stayed in this room would feel comfortable and loved. Mrs. Travers pulled back the covers on the twin bed and told me to get in. I reluctantly did as she asked and immediately noticed the crackle of a waterproof cover. She tucked me in and, out of habit, pulled up a side rail. She tittered realizing what she had done. "Oh, well, better safe than sorry." She kissed my forehead. "You have a nice sleep, and when you get up, maybe Nana Mavis will let you have that cookie. Sleep tight, Davey." With that she was gone. What had I gotten myself into? I wanted to talk to Kathy, but I didn't know where my phone was, and she probably arranged this anyway. How was I going to look Mrs. Travers in the face after today? And what might she tell the other neighbors? I needed to get out of this predicament. I needed to get over this stupid wetting problem and find a new job. At least I'd be away from home more. I yawned. The morning was catching up with me. A little nap wouldn't hurt, and I was kind of stuck for now anyway. "Wakey, wakey," Mrs. Travers sang cheerily. "Time to get up." "Huh?" I tried to get my bearings. Why was I in a child's room? Oh yeah. "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked, letting down the rail. She shocked me by sticking her fingers in the waistband of my diaper. "Not too wet. You should be fine till your Mommy gets home." "I need to get to the store." I needed to get out of there. "That will have to wait. I talked to Kathy, and she should be here soon. You can finish up tomorrow. How about that cookie? It will be our little secret." It turned out not to be a secret. I was biting into a second one, when Kathy came in. For some reason, I felt guilty. "How was he for you today, Mavis? I know how he can be when there's plumbing involved." "A perfect angel, Kathy. Weren't you, Davey? He's just having a little snack as a reward for coming to my rescue." "I'm glad to hear that. I just hope he hasn't spoiled his dinner. A growing boy can't live on milk and cookies." "I expect he'll be fine. I'm sure he worked up quite an appetite." "Well, we'd best be off. I'll send him over in the morning to finish up. You don't mind watching him, do you?" "Not at all dear. He's my good little helper." "Thank you, Mavis. Come on, Dave. Let's go make some supper." "Oh, Davey, don't forget your car. It's all clean now. He can have it, can't he, Kathy?" "Of course. What do you say, David?" "Thank you, Mrs. Travers." I didn't need to be reminded, for gosh sake. "You're welcome, Davey. Maybe tomorrow, we can make some cookies together?" She winked. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. We'll talk to you tomorrow." Kathy took me by the hand and led me home. "That was very nice of you, helping Mrs. Travers like that. I was so worried, when I couldn't find you." "I did call." "I know. I should have checked my messages first. That's my fault. Do you like your toy?" "What? Oh, yeah, I guess," I said, setting it down. "It was very nice of Mrs. Travers to give it to you." "I know. But can you stop talking to me like I'm a child?" "I'm just saying it was nice." "But you told me to say thank you, and you're talking about my working over there like your dropping me off at daycare." "Still a bit cranky after your nap." "I'm not cranky! And I don't need naps. I'm not a baby, damn it." "Don't take that tone with me. And no more potty mouth, unless you want it washed out. How's your diaper holding out, by the way?" "It's fine. Why did you make me wear it all day anyway? Now Mrs. Travers knows, and she'll probably tell everybody. It's not like I don't have enough problems. I don't have a job anymore, and I can't stop wetting the bed, and now everybody's gonna think I'm a big baby, just like you and Mrs. Travers do. It's not fair!" Tears were running down my face. "Why does it have to be like this?" Kathy took me in her arms, and I sobbed. It was all too much. I felt a warm wetness gather around my bottom, and I cried all the harder. "Shh. Shh. I know, baby. I know. It's all overwhelming, isn't it? It's going to be okay. I promise. I had a long talk with Mrs. Travers this afternoon. I explained the whole thing, and she understands. She just wants to help, and she won't tell a soul; I promise. I don't want you to worry about a thing. I know you're not a baby. But you've been through a lot lately, and I want to take care of you. I want you to let all the hurt go. I think that bully of a boss did more damage than you realize. And trying to put up a brave front and hide what it was doing only made it worse. I think you need to let go of everything and let me handle things for a while. Can you be a big, brave boy and trust Mommy to look after you until you're better?" I nodded. "That's my little man. You just let Mommy be in charge for a while, and she'll make it all better. You just be Mommy's little helper, and don't worry about the mean people anymore. You can help Mrs. Travers too. She needs lots of help now that her husband is gone. She doesn't mind that you are having potty problems any more than Mommy does. We know that even big boys have trouble with the potty sometimes. You just do what we ask, and we'll take care of the rest. Can you do that for me, baby? Will you do that for Mommy?" "I guess." I was emotionally drained. I couldn't fight it anymore. "Promise me, baby. Promise me you'll listen to Mommy and Mrs. Travers and let us take care of you." "I promise." "I promise, what?" "I'll listen." "Listen to who, baby?" "Mommy and Nana Mavis." I sat up at hearing that name come out of my mouth. Kathy looked shocked, but her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "That's right, baby. Mommy and Nana will take good care of you. Are you hungry?" I was caught off guard by the question, but I was, in fact. I nodded. Kathy squeezed the front of my diaper. "Then let's get you fed, but first somebody needs a change." Kathy took me upstairs, then made a detour into the bathroom. When she was down to the diaper, she asked if I had made poopies that day. I hadn't. "Sit on the potty, and try to make a boom-boom for Mommy. I'll be right back." I was getting ready to wipe when she came back… naked. She turned on the shower. She took the paper from my hand and told me to stand up. "Good job! Turn around." She bent me over and wiped me. "Okay, get in the shower. You've been playing with toilet water all day and not the good kind. Mommy needs to clean you up." It was nice showering together. It had been a long time since we did that. All that soaping and scrubbing led to other things, and we had to start over. We basked in the afterglow under the water. "I'm confused. One minute, you're wiping me like I'm three years old, the next you're…" I grinned and pulled her closer. "You may need a mommy right now, but you are still my husband, and don't you forget it. I haven't. But now it's time to get the baby dressed and fed. Get out, and Mommy will dry you." I had the best night's sleep in many weeks, wet but restful. Kathy woke me lovingly, and she was laying out my clothes when I came back from the shower. "No diaper?" "Of course not, sweetie. Your punishment is over. It's back to the regular rules. You'll wear your training pants until naptime, unless you'd rather a diaper. It's okay if you do." "No, training pants are good. But what about Mrs. Travers? What if she notices a difference? How am I going to explain why I was wearing a diaper yesterday but not today?" "Don't worry, baby? Mommy already talked to Nana, and she knows all about it. That's the other reason you can go back to wearing training pants. Nana will be there to make sure you don't fall asleep without your diaper on." "Does that mean I have to go back to wearing diapers when I get finished with her bathroom?" "I expect you'll be busy with her all day. We'll just see how it goes. Okay, sweetie?" "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "Don't pout, honey. You're going to have lots of fun with Nana. I promise." I went to my workshop and got a tubing cutter. I was going to replace that old shutoff valve as well as the float. Kathy was waiting by the door with an overnight bag. "What's that?" I asked. "Just some extra supplies, you never know." We went out, and I started to turn toward the car. "No, baby, this way. Nana will take you to the store." Mrs. Travers was waiting for us. The door opened as we approached. "Why, hello, Davey," she said, a little too brightly. "All ready to get to work?" "Yes, ma'am." "Oh, don't be so glum. You did the hard part yesterday, didn't you? You're such a good helper. You'll have it all fixed in no time, won't you?" "Yes, ma'am." "Now, now. No need to be so formal. We're good friends now, aren't we? What did we agree my name was?" I hadn't agreed to anything, but I knew what was expected. "Nana Mavis." "That's right!" she beamed. "And Nana's going to take very good care of you. And if you're a very good boy, Nana has a big surprise for you later. Won't that be fun?" I looked at Kathy, hoping she would intervene on my behalf. Instead she gave me a small nod and a look that said go along with it. "Yes, Nana." "That's my good boy. Come in. come in. Have you had breakfast yet? Nana can't have you working on an empty stomach." "I'm sorry, Mavis. I didn't have time to feed him this morning. I really am running late." "That's alright, dear. He can eat with Nana. I'm just sorry you can't join us." "Me too, but I do have to run. Here's his bag. It should have anything you might need. David, you be a good boy for Nana today, and I'll see you after work. Thank you again, Mavis." Kathy kissed both me and Nana… Mrs. Travers on the cheek and took her leave. "Well, Davey, we've got a big day ahead of us. I think that calls for pancakes. How about you?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Then have a seat. They'll be coming right up. But first, maybe you should go potty." I blushed and mumbled, "I don't have to right now." "I think you should try anyway. For Nana?" "Alright." I headed off to the sill working guest bath. "That's a good boy. Don't forget to flush and wash your hands." I don't know what Kathy told her, but Mrs. Travers was taking to her role as Nana more enthusiastically than I was comfortable with. I suppose it wasn't hurting anyone, maybe my pride a little bit. On the other hand, she was being really nice. It's not every day I get someone to make pancakes for me, and bacon from the smell of it. I made an honest effort of it, but I didn't have to go. I flushed and washed anyway. "Just in time. I have your plate all ready for you." I half expected it to be already cut up. Instead, she had poured one large and two small circles of batter, making the shape of a famous mouse. I had to smile at that. She set the plate down in front of me, tucked a napkin into my shirt, and kissed me on the forehead. "Be careful with the syrup. Use both hands." That annoyed me a little, but I bit my tongue and used both hands. I don't know if using only one would have made any difference, but the syrup did pour faster than expected, and my pancake was fairly swimming in it. "Oh, somebody has a sweet tooth," she said, setting a large glass of milk in front of me. "Eat up, there's plenty more where that came from." "May I have some coffee, Nana?" "Coffee? Are you sure? Oh, heavens, of course. But drink your milk too. It's good for you." She made excellent pancakes, light, crispy around the edges. I had seconds and bacon and thirds. I had to soak up all that syrup after all. I was stuffed. "Such a good eater," she said, astonished. "Aren't you going to have some?" "Oh, no, dear," I had something earlier. Is your tummy full? Would you like something else?" "No, thank you. I couldn't eat another bite. It was delicious." "You're welcome, sweetheart. It's nice to cook for someone again. I suppose you'll be wanting to go to the hardware store?" "After that meal, not so much. But I do need to get some things to finish fixing the toilet." "I'll go freshen up and then we can go. Do you need to use the potty?" "No, Nana," I sighed. "I'm fine." "Okay," she said uncertainly and went about her business. I poured myself another half cup of coffee. I was wondering what was taking so long, when she came back with her hair a little spruced up and a touch of light make up. "You're sure you don't want to use the potty before we go?" "Yes, Nana," I said, rolling my eyes. "Watch your tone, young man. Alright let's go." Before long, we were back, and I set right to work. I had the old shutoff replaced and the main water turned back on. The corroded float mostly out, when I wished I had used the toilet before starting. I was close to finished; so, I forged on. All parts attached and feeling tight, I opened the shutoff and promptly got sprayed in the face. I turned off the water and had another go at the loose fitting. That did it, tight as a drum. I closed the door and christened the job. I noticed that the training pants were more than a little damp. I flushed and watched all the parts work as they should. I put away my tools and wiped everything down. Proud of myself, I opened the door and shouted, "Nana! I'm done!" "Nice job, Davey! I'm so proud of you. Thank you so much. It's beautiful! Come along. I have a nice lunch and a big piece of cake with your name on it." Lunch was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Again, she stuck the napkin in my shirt. She wasn't kidding about the cake. It was a two-layer yellow cake with gobs of homemade chocolate buttercream and enormous. It was all I could do to finish it. I didn't object the big glass of milk she gave me, even though I would have preferred coffee, and I didn't really need to use two hands, as she insisted. I thanked her with all my heart and said I would be on my way. "Oh, no, David. I have something I want you to do after your nap. Come up stairs and lie down. Nana has a big surprise for you when you get up." "I really should be…" "Now, David, you've been so good all day. Don't start giving Nana trouble now. I told your Mommy I would put you down after lunch, and that's what we're going to do." She took my hand and led me back to the grandkids' room. I think she would have dragged me, if I had put up any resistance. She put the bag Kathy had brought on the bed and pulled out pajamas and a diaper. She did a double take and took something else out of the bag. She turned around and wagged Kathy's hairbrush at me. "Don't make me use this," she warned and put it back. "Let's get you changed, and you'll have a nice nap and be all rested for your surprise." She came over and started unbuttoning my shirt. I backed away. She asked if she needed to get the hairbrush. I let her undress me. If I wasn't nervous before, I certainly was when she had me down to the pull-up. She started to take it down and stopped halfway. "Oh, David, when did that happen? I told you, you should have used the potty before we went to the store. You have to tell Nana when you have to go. Oh, well, I guess that's why we have you in trainers. At least your pants stayed dry. But let's get your diaper and jammies on, so you can go beddy-bye." I was soon tucked in and sulking. "Don't be that way, sweetheart. Nana's not mad. Accidents happen. But I want you to promise me, you'll tell Nana the next time, okay?" "Okay," I sighed. "That's Nana's good boy." She pulled the blankets up under my chin and kissed me on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Honeybunch. You have a good rest, and then Nana has something really special for you. Ni-night." She shut the door and left me to wonder what it might be. Tucked in and toasty, with a full tummy, I didn't last long. Nana jostled me awake. I knew from the shadows; I had been out for a while. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Time to get up. If you sleep any longer, your Mommy will never get you down at bedtime. Do you want to see what Nana has for you?" I nodded, curious. "Good. Let's just have a check then. Oo, I think Nana shouldn't give you so much milk before naptime. No worries, that's what it's there for." She got the bag and pulled out a diaper and a pair of training pants. She seemed to weigh her options for a moment ad put the diaper back. "We'll try these again, but you have to tell Nana when you need to use the potty, understand?" "Yes, Nana," I said, blushing. "Good boy." She got me changed and was pulling me the hand again. She had the biggest grin on her face. She took me down to the basement. I wondered what she wanted to show me. I had been down there earlier to turn off the main water line and hadn't noticed anything unusual. She turned me off to the left and opened a door. Before me lay the most elaborate train set I had ever seen outside and exhibition like the one we went to at Sharon's house. It wasn't nearly as big, of course, but still. It had everything, tracks winding all over the place, tunnels, trestles, crossing gates, people and animals. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. "Do you like it?" "Do I like it? It's beautiful!" "It was Harold's. He made it for our boys, but he could never get them interested in it. They just wanted to crash the trains. When they discovered girls, even Harold didn't play with it anymore. He never had the heart to get rid of it. I guess he always kept hope. It's been sitting down here all these years." "That's terrible. Something like this should be loved." "It was. It was, but not for a long time. Would you like to play with it?" "Would I? Do you mean it? That would be awesome! Are you sure it's okay? I mean…" "Yes, sweetheart, I mean it. It would do my heart good to know it wasn't down here just gathering dust. I think it would make Harold very happy too." There was a tear in her eye. "Oh, Nana, thank you!" I hugged her so tight. I think I might have lifted her off the floor. I gave her a great big kiss on the cheek and looked back over the display. I approached the layout with reverence, lightly touching it, following the track with my eyes. I found the controls and studied them carefully. I wanted to be sure of what each one did before I went any further. I never laid my hands on anything like this. I was lost in its intricacies when I made the first tentative turn of the transformer knob. An engine came to life and slowly started to move. I felt something placed on my head, then a hug from behind and a kiss on my cheek. I could take my eyes off the train, but I'm sure I felt a little wetness there. I was lost in wonder. I carefully tried each control, only for a second at first, just to make sure it did what I thought it would. After a while, I had two trains going and track switches working. I was thrilled, and I had barely scratched the surface of what it all could do. "Davey, you're Mommy's here." I almost whined for five more minutes. I really wanted to keep playing. Instead, I called back, dejectedly, "Okay." I carefully shut everything down, reversing the order in which I started them. When I stood up, a shiver ran through me. There was wetness on the backs of my thighs. I froze. How was I going to get out of there without them seeing? "David, come on," Kathy called. "It's time to go home and leave Nana in peace." "Coming," I lied. Now she was waiting at the top of the stairs. Was there a back door to this place? "Now, David. Don't make me come down there." There was nothing else for it. I slowly climbed the steps. There may as well have been a gallows at the top. "David! What have you done? I'm ashamed of you. Apologize this instant!" "I'm sorry, Nana." I meant it too. "You and I are going to have a talk about this when I get you home. I'm so sorry, Mavis." "It's alright, dear. I shouldn't have left him alone for so long. I should have known better after this morning." "This morning? You wet your pants twice in the same day? What am I going to do with you?" "Don't be too hard on him, Kathy. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure he couldn't help it. I really should have made him sit on the potty more." "It's not your fault, Mavis. There's no excuse for his wetting himself in the daytime. He should know when he needs to go potty, shouldn't you? If he doesn't, well we'll deal with it. But I think he was just being lazy and not wanting to stop playing. Get your bag and thank Nana. We're going home." "Thank you, Nana, for everything, especially for letting me play with the trains. That was so awesome." "You're welcome, sweetheart. You can play with them anytime you want, as long as your Mommy says it's alright." Kathy took the hat off my head and handed it to Nana. "Thank you, Mavis, but I think he's lost his engineer's license for a while. We'll see if he earns it back. I'll call you later." She pushed me out the door and scolded me all the way across the street and into the house. "Go upstairs, take off your clothes, and sit on the potty. Don't move until I tell you. I'll come up when I'm calm enough to deal with you." I don't know how long I was left to sit there, long enough for my legs to fall asleep. Kathy was calmer when she came in but still visibly upset. She picked up the saturated training pants. "For heaven's sake, David, what is wrong with you? I thought by now, you'd be getting better, but your just getting worse. I so want to spank you right now, but I don't trust myself to do it. Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me? I've tried to be patient with you, but it's wearing pretty thin. I know you need a mommy right now, and I'm trying really hard to be that for you. I even told you, you could wear diapers all the time, if that's what you wanted. You said you didn't need them. You said you wanted training pants. You wanted to be a big boy. Then you go pissing your pants, not once but twice, the second time, so much you leaked. Well, mister, you listen to me, and you listen good. You want to piss your pants like a baby? Fine. You've got the whole weekend. You're going back into diapers right now, and you can piss and shit yourself to your heart's content. On Monday, if, and I mean if, I think you've learned your lesson, and you still want them, I'll consider letting you have your training pants back. But that's only going to happen if Nana will help with your toilet training. You'll sit on the potty on a schedule, you'll be supervised, your pants will be checked, and if you wet yourself, your going to be spanked, put back in diapers, and we'll start all over again the next time one of us is available to try and teach you to be a big boy. And don't think I'm going to be grounded just because you are being a baby. I have shopping to do this weekend, and you'll be coming with me, diaper bag and all. Do I make myself clear?" I had long since started crying. I sobbed, "I'm sorry." "I didn't ask if you were sorry. I said, do I make myself clear." "Yes, Mommy. Crystal." "Good. Get up and go in the bedroom. I need to get a diaper on you. You can clean up this mess afterward." "I can't," I wailed. "Are you defying me? After what you've done? Why the hell not?" "My legs are asleep." "Then I guess you'll just have to crawl like the baby you are acting like." I slid off the toilet and onto my knees. At first, I could hardly move my legs. Then the blood started to flow back into them, and that was much worse. Pins and needles only begins to describe the electric burning that flared with every movement. Kathy slapped my behind, and I screamed. Halfway to the bedroom, enough feeling had returned that I tried to stand. Kathy told me to stay where I was; she would let me know when I was allowed to walk again. I crawled up on the bed and lay back to be diapered. Kathy told me to roll over. I was sure she was going to take the belt to me, and I started bawling. Instead of fire on my bottom, I felt cold stickiness. She was slathering me with Desitin. It felt like she was using enough for three of me. I heard the rustling of diapers and saw two of them laid open next to me. She told me to roll over, and she applied a layer just as thick to the front. She covered me in a cloud of baby powder. It took her several wet wipes to get her hands reasonably clean. She taped up the double diaper and looked dissatisfied. She went away and came back with a roll of clear packing tape. She told me to stand, and she wrapped the tape around me three times. "That ought to hold you. Get in bed. From what I heard, you had more than enough to eat today. If you're quiet, and I feel like it, I might bring you a bottle later. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. Understand?" "Yes, Mommy," I squeaked. She looked down at me for a long time. Finally, she sat down on the bed. She brushed the tears from my cheeks and the hair away from my forehead. "Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. I know that this has all been hard on you. The thing is, this is all hard on me too. Shh. It's okay. I can deal with it, but you have to deal with it too. You have to decide what is going on and how you are going to handle it. What's happening isn't working. If anything, the situation is getting worse. I need you to think really hard about this. Do you think there is something wrong with you that you are losing control of your bodily functions, something physically wrong? If you do, I'll call Margaret on Monday. We'll get all the tests and specialists we need to make you better." I started to speak, but she put a finger over my lips and shushed me gently. "Don't answer now. I want you to think hard about that over the weekend. I don't know how your body feels inside. Margaret didn't find anything wrong with you before, and I don't think there is now. But you can tell me in a couple of days, after you think about it. As for me, I feel like you are trying to live in two worlds at the same time. A part of you wants to be a little boy and be taken care of. A part of you wants to be a big strong man. Both of those things are fine. But I think trying to both is hurting you. I think it's causing problems for me. I think you have to choose. If you can't handle the responsibility of keeping your pants dry, or just don't want it, you have to tell me. There are things we… I can do to prevent it from being a problem. It would mean some big changes for both of us, but we can deal with it, I promise. But you can't go around just wetting your pants, like you did today. That hurts us both, and it hurt Nana. It's all forgiven now, but you need to make some decisions. "You need to decide if there's something physically wrong with you and if not, which world you want to live in. Do you want to be a grown up, or do you need to be a little boy for now? I want you to take your time and really think about this. It's very important, and you should not make your decision quickly. I want you to take your time, and I won't ask for or listen to your answer until Monday. I'm not going to push you in any direction, and I'll respect any decision you make. But I think, and I hope you agree, that what you did today was not the right way to handle what's happening, and that it deserves some consequences." I was sniffling, but I nodded. "Good. So, until Monday morning, you are going to be in diapers. You will use them when you need to, and you will do what I say. You can learn just what it's like to be Mommy's baby and whether that's right for you. Do not ask to be let out before we discuss your decision. I am not going to change my mind. And if you think this is easy for me, think about what changing one of your dirty diapers is like for me. Now, I want you to get some sleep. It's been a trying day for both of us." She stood up, tucked me in, and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, my baby-husband, no matter what." She turned out the light and left the room. I tried to think about what she said, but it was just too much, and I drifted off into a less than peaceful sleep. I felt Kathy curl up against me, and I slept better after that. I was suddenly cold and flailing for the blankets. "Wake up, sleepyhead," Kathy sang merrily. I was still in a fog. "Let's check that dipee. Oh, yes, all wet. Let's get you changed." She was cutting through the tape she had wrapped around me before I could fully comprehend where I was, let alone what she was doing. I was more or less awake by the time she taped up the fresh diaper. She told me to put on some pants and come downstairs for breakfast. I was greeted by a spread of pancakes and sausage. This was not unheard of on a Saturday morning, but it was usually me cooking it. I sat down, and Kathy placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of me. I looked at her curiously. "Yes, I know what I said last night about your being Mommy's baby this weekend, but I don't think we have to go overboard. You do need to wear and use your diapers, and you have to do as I tell you, but I'm not going to make you drink from bottles or talk baby talk… unless you want to, that is. Oh, and unless we go out in public, you will call me Mommy, okay? I don't have any plans to go anywhere, but you never know. And public does not include Nana's house." I figured I could live with that, and I was already tucking into my pancakes anyway; so, I nodded. "Oh fay." "Don't talk with your mouth full. Then it's agreed." I'm not ashamed to admit I was stuffed when I finally put down my fork after my third helping. Okay, maybe a little ashamed, but it was really good. Kathy had long since finished and was tidying up. She brought a wet cloth when she came for my plate. "I know I said you wouldn't have to use a bottle, but maybe a bib might have been in order." I looked down and saw a number of places where syrup had dripped on my shirt. I blushed. Kathy chuckled and wiped them off. Then she wiped my face and my hands. She said I could do the dishes. I thanked her, sarcastically, for the privilege, and she gave me a warning look. I laughed. She checked my diaper, which deflated me a little, even though it was dry, and I took up the task. I don't mind washing dishes, especially when it's not many and somebody else did the cooking. The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, other than the diaper checks and changes, our normal Saturday routine. The first was a little traumatic. I felt the urge to pee coming on while I was washing up from breakfast. All the coffee I drank wanted out, but I didn't want to just stand there and wet myself. Kathy noticed my little dance at the sink. She told me I may as well get it over with, because the diaper wasn't coming off until I needed a change. I did manage to hold off until I finished and got out of her sight, but by that time, I was desperate, and it all came out in a rush, and I ended up with a very noticeable leak. Kathy just shook her head with an "I told you so" expression when I went to her but said nothing more about it when she changed me. After that, I didn't resist so much. Sunday was shaping up to be more of the same. Kathy reminded me over breakfast, just cereal and coffee, that I had a big decision to make the next day and asked whether I had thought about it. I told her I had—I'd thought of little else—but hadn't made any decisions. I puttered around the house and spent some time on the computer. Kathy spent a lot of time on the phone. Then we realized we hadn't anything in the fridge to make for dinner. Somebody was going to have to go to the store. Kathy told me to put on something decent; sweats and a t-shirt were not her idea of appropriate shopping attire. "Do I have to go?" "Of course, you have to go. I can't leave a baby home alone." "Can't I stay with Nana?" "No, we've been imposing on her enough. Just get dressed, and stop whining." "But I don't want to go out like this." "You are going out. No one is going to notice. The only question is whether you are going to go with a sore bottom, because I'm this far from spanking you." "Okay. Okay. I'll go." Kathy was right. Despite the fact that grabbing something for dinner turned into a major shopping trip, nobody seemed to notice my condition. All in all, there were no problems, at least until we were on the way home. That's when not pooping for the last couple of days decided to catch up with me. I was really trying to hold out until Monday, when I was sure I could get Kathy to let me use the toilet. No such luck. We were barely out of the grocery store parking lot when the first cramp hit me, hard. I passed some gas and felt better. Kathy cracked her window, and I apologized. A few blocks later, it happened again. It wasn't long before the cramps started coming in waves. I was holding my own, but now I had to pee. I was very uncomfortable and starting to sweat. The last wave passed about the time we pulled in the driveway, and I felt I was home free, if you'll pardon the expression. I got out of the car, and another cramp hit me so hard I nearly doubled over. I clamped down hard on my back door but forgot about my bladder. I started to pee. Shaken, I tried to stop that and lost control of my bowels. I was standing in the driveway, filling my pants front and back. I was mortified and scanning the neighborhood to see who might be watching. Kathy rushed me into the house. She took me straight to the bathroom and got my shoes and pants off. No damage was done. She asked me if I was finished, and I admitted I wasn't sure. She told me to stay there; she would unload the car. In the eternity that followed, it turned out to be the right thing to do; I wasn't finished. My diaper was a saggy mess by the time Kathy returned. She held me for a long time and shushed away my attempts to apologize. She had me lie on the floor, and she started a bath. She toughed her way through removing the diaper and a cursory cleaning. She told me to soak while she put the groceries away. I think I was starting to doze when she came back and began washing me. The bath was a tender time, and she acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I felt better, and Kathy showed me that dirty diapers or not, she was still interested in me as a husband. I was very content, and probably could have used another bath, by the time she was putting a new diaper on me. The evening passed quietly. Kathy asked me if I might want a bottle before bedtime. I told her that depended on what was in it. She smiled and told me to stay put. She came back a few minutes later with a bottle filled with wine. A baby bottle is not the best way to drink wine. It's really too much at one time, especially when one is being encouraged to drink it all up. The nipple doesn't do anything to improve the flavor. But lying with your head in the lap of your lover while getting quickly inebriated certainly makes up for it. I slept very well that night. Morning came way too early for me. The sun was barely up, and I was having a nice dream. "Get up, honey." I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. Kathy pulled them back down. "It's decision day, and I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Let's get you changed." Kathy had me sorted quickly and let me have enough coffee to bring the world into focus before starting our discussion. "Sweetheart, it's time," she started. She seemed as hesitant as I felt. "I guess the first question, and the one that kept me up a lot over the last few days, is: do you feel like something is wrong with your body? I mean with your accident yesterday; I have been really worried." "No," I assured her. "I was just hoping I could make it till today. I didn't want to do that in the diaper. If I had been able to use the bathroom, it wouldn't have been a problem." "So, you held your poopies in until you had a big accident in your diaper anyway." "I guess." "Not very mature, was it?" "I suppose not." "So, you feel like you are healthy? Nothing wrong?" "I don't think so." "Well, that's a relief. The bedwetting is one thing. There are lots of reasons that can happen, and we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. But it doesn't explain your daytime accidents. Are you sure there's nothing going on inside?" "Yes, I'm fine." "Then why have you been peeing your pants? Can you feel when you need to go?" "Yes." "Does it hurt to go? Are you having a hard time going? Can't you hold it?" "No, no, and no. I'm fine, really." "Then why are you wetting your pants?" She didn't seem concerned anymore, more irritated. "I don't know." "Are you just trying to get my attention? Do you feel like I'm neglecting you?" "No, of course not." "Then what is it? Are you just being lazy?" "I… I don't know." "David, we both know that you can't go around wetting your pants all the time." "It's not all the time." "Don't interrupt. The way I see it, you are just being irresponsible. Like I told you before, if you don't want the responsibility, there are ways I can handle it. But if you want to be a big boy, you have to get a grip on this and stop wetting and pooping your pants right now. You've had all weekend to think about this. There are two choices left. You can be a responsible grown up, or you can be a little boy. So, what's it going to be?" "What happens if I choose to be a grown up?" "I'll expect you to act like a grown up. You look for a new job. Until you find one, you'll be expected to take care of the house. And I will not tolerate wet or poopy pants. There will be consequences, if that happens. That might be spanking you the first few times, but I will not put up with it indefinitely." "You'd leave me?" I asked, visibly scared that she might. "I'm not saying that. I don't plan to; I don't want to. I just can't say it's out of the question. I guess it depends on how hard you push me." "Please, please don't. I don't want to lose you. What about the other choice? What if I was a little boy?" "Sweetheart, I don't want to lose you either. I love you, no matter what you decide. But to answer your question, little boys are different. They can't be expected to be responsible all the time. Little boys have accidents in their pants. That's why they can't wear big boy undies. Mommies understand this. But little boys who wet themselves can't really be trusted to change themselves when they need to, can they? That means that they can't be left alone. They need to be watched to make sure they get changed regularly and don't get diaper rash, which means you'll have to stay with Nana while I'm at work. We have already discussed this, and it's all decided. On the other hand, because you can't expect too much from little boys, they get to play a lot more. Sure, they'll have some chores, but not like a grown up." "You mean I'd have to wear diapers all the time? Could I maybe be a little boy and still wear regular underpants?" "Sweetie, we discussed this. I think it's this half in, half out attitude that is causing your problems. I think that, for right now, you need to be a little boy, that it would be good for you, and that it's what you really want too. But I also think you are fighting it, trying to act like a grownup sometimes and not others. I think you are being pulled between what you want and need, on the one hand, and what you think you should be doing, on the other. I think it's that tension that's causing a lot of your problems. For your own sake, if not for mine, you need to pick one or the other, because not choosing is hurting both of us." "But I don't want to wear diapers all the time." "Don't whine, honey. I've thought about this a lot. I think it would be a lot easier if you did, but if you really don't want to, we can try you in training pants during the day. Nighttime is non-negotiable for now; so is naptime. But understand, your wearing training pants comes with a lot more responsibility for everyone. For you, that would mean telling me or Nana when you have to go potty. No, you cannot just go by yourself. Nana and I will each decide whether you need to be supervised, but I want you to tell us when you have to go, so we can keep track. Nana and I would also be telling you, from time to time, that we want you to sit on the potty and try. You said you are not sick; so, there should be no excuses for having accidents in your training pants. If you do, Nana and I will each decide whether it deserves a spanking. I've already given her permission to spank you for this or any other disobedience. You do not want to find out what will happen if you give her any trouble about it. If you have two accidents in one day, you'll go back to diapers until I decide you are ready to try again. If you can live with those rules and promise to try really hard, we'll try you in training pants for the time being. Nana and I will also decide whether you should be in diapers if we have to take you somewhere, and there won't be any arguments, understand?" "Yes." She looked at me expectantly. "Mommy." "Alright. That's one way to go. Your other choice would be to just wear diapers all the time. You wouldn't have to worry about when you had to go potty. We'll check you and change you when you need it. If you want to make poopies in the potty, you can tell us. Let's face it; changing your dirty diapers is not fun. You don't have to, but you can. But we'll decide whether it's convenient to put you on the potty; so, no whining. We may still tell you to try making peepee in the potty, but you are not to ask. If this is the way you want to go, I want you to relax and not be concerned about keeping your pants dry. Let us worry about them. No one will make a fuss over a wet or dirty diaper; that's what they are there for. You can play or do your chores and not worry about wetting your pants. "So, you have a couple of choices to make, and I need you to make them now. There are no wrong answers here. I love you and will support you whatever you decide. I want you to do what you think is best for you. First, do you want to try being a grownup, or do you want to be a little boy?" I tumbled the alternatives in my brain. I had been contemplating it all weekend but didn't have this new information to work with. Kathy waited patiently, but I caught her checking her watch. "Little boy," I finally gave in. "I really think that's for the best. So, diapers or training pants?" "Can we do training pants, please?" I whined. "Are you sure? You know the consequences, if you start having accidents." I hesitated, asking myself whether I was making the right decision. "Uh huh." "Alright then. You had fair warning; so, you had better not abuse the privilege. Now, I need to get to work. Let's check your diaper." She came around and put her hand on the front. "Still dry. That's fine. Just tell Nana when you need the potty, and she'll put you in your training pants. Now, go get dressed, or I'm going to be late." "I don't get them now?" "I told you before, I'm not wasting perfectly good diapers. Now, go get dressed; or would you prefer to discuss it over my lap?" "I'm going," I sighed. By the time I was back downstairs, Kathy was waiting by the door with, what I could only assume, was my diaper bag. She took me by the hand and led me across the street. Nana opened the door as we approached. "There he is," she sang. "That was a very grown up decision you made. But the last one for a while, hmm? We're going to have lots of fun together while you get all better, okay?" I found myself shyly nodding my head and trying to slip behind Kathy. Kathy defended me, saying, "I guess he's feeling a little shy this morning. Here's his diaper bag. He can help you bring more supplies over after he gets settled in, but that should hold you for now. He still has his diaper on from this morning, but we're going to try him in training pants for a while. We've discussed the rules. He can have his pull-ups after he goes potty. I guess that's it for now. I think we discussed everything over the weekend, but if you run into any difficulties, you have my cell." She kissed my cheek. "Be good for Nana. I don't want any bad reports. I love you, sweetie. Have fun today." She took my hand from hers and gave it to Nana. Then she was off. Nana raised my hand and waved it for me. When Kathy's car was headed down the road, Nana took me inside. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. I told her I ate already. She filled a sippy cup with apple juice anyway. "Why don't you just take that and go play with your trains. We can talk when you're a little more awake, okay?" I was relieved to be off the hook for a while and welcomed the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I nodded and headed for the basement. Nana called after me. "Don't forget to come find me when you have to go potty." That caused me to stop and cringe for a second. I guess that was enough acknowledgment for Nana, because she said no more. I blushed and continued on my way. I had planned on brooding over my new life, but once I got started with the trains, all other thoughts left my head. Sometime later, a voice invaded my play. "Davey," it sang. "Davey?" "David! Stop that train." Nana was standing at my shoulder. I cut the power and the train slowed to stop. "You answer when Nana calls you, young man. You've been down here quite a while. I think you had better take a break and sit on the potty, don't you?" Now that she mentioned it, I did, more than I realized. "Uh huh." "Come on then. I'll get you some more juice too." I practically ran up the stairs to the bathroom. She shouted after me to slow down. I was in the bathroom trying to get my pants down when she caught up with me. It was difficult to do while dancing. "Let's get that diaper off." She pushed my hands away and undid the tapes herself. She pulled it from between my legs and pushed me back to sit. A stream hit the water almost immediately. "Just in time, I see. Well, almost in time." There was a small, but not inconsequential wet spot on the diaper. I was mortified. "That's alright. I shouldn't have let you stay down there so long. We won't mention this, okay." I nodded gratefully. "Stay there, and I'll be right back with some dry pants." She wasn't gone long but long enough for me to berate myself for not paying more attention to my bladder. I told her I could dress myself, but she insisted on helping. She suggested we take care of a few chores before lunch. These included going to my house to bring over more supplies. I said I didn't think we needed so many pairs of training pants, and I begged her not to bring the diapers. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, you'll need them for your naps." I didn't plan on taking any naps, but it seemed pointless to argue with her. So, I trudged back across the street with a big cardboard box of what would be my underwear for the foreseeable future. It was lunchtime, and Nana fixed us sandwiches. I was pleased she didn't try to make me wear a bib, but she did insist I use the sippy cup. Afterward, she had more chores for us. True to her word, she frequently asked me if I needed to use the potty, several times insisting that I try. I couldn't tell whether she was smiling or smirking when I produced. Late in the afternoon she suggested I watch TV until my mommy got home. I was happy to oblige. I must have nodded off, because Nana was pulling down my pants. "Shh. Calm down, sweetheart. You're very tired, and I think we should get a diaper on you, just in case." "I'll stay awake, I promise." "Don't worry, honey. It's okay if you don't want to take a nap. Nana will feel much better though, if we put your diaper on. Do you want to use the potty first?" I shook my head. There was no arguing with her. "Alright; if you're sure. We'll just put this on, and you can rest." Safely wrapped up, she let me return to my movie. I didn't see the end. The sun was much lower when I heard Kathy's voice. "I hope he wasn't any trouble today." "Nothing serious dear. I left him to play too long this morning. He mostly made it in the potty. That was my fault, and you shouldn't say anything about it. Otherwise, he was a very good boy, hardly any fuss. He might be a little wet now. He didn't want to use the potty before I put him down for his nap." I stretched, making it known that I was awake and giving me an opportunity to check my pants. I was disappointed to find Nana was right. I was a little wet. "Hi, baby," Kathy beamed, sitting down next to me. "Did you have fun with Nana today?" Other than the trains, I wouldn't have called it fun, but it wasn't bad. "Uh huh." "And were you a good boy for Nana?" I looked up at Mrs. Travers; she was smiling back at me. "Yes, Mommy. I was good." "He sure was. He helped me a lot," Nana praised. I nodded in agreement. "That's my good boy." Kathy hugged me. "But now it's time to get you home and fed. Thank Nana." "Thank you, Nana," I said automatically. I pushed back the blanket she must have covered me with and stood up. Kathy felt my crotch and appeared to come to some decision. She picked up the diaper bag and kissed Nana on the cheek. "Yes, thank you, Mavis. I don't know what I'd do without you. Say bye-bye, Davey." "Bye-bye, Nana. See you tomorrow." "Think nothing of it, Kathy. It's my pleasure. Bye-bye, sweetheart. Maybe we'll make cookies tomorrow. How does that sound?" My face lit up. "Don't get him thinking about cookies. I need to get dinner in him. Thanks again. I'll see you in the morning." Kathy took me home and immediately started to take things out for dinner. I tried to help, but she insisted I sit down and tell her about my day. I did and watched her cook while feeling bad that she had worked all day and was now working again. I told her I was going to wash up and use the potty. I couldn't stop calling it that. "It's alright, honey. Just use your diaper. It's already damp, and I'm going to have to change you for bedtime anyway." I sulked back to the bathroom. I wet myself while washing my hands. Dinner was up to Kathy's usual standards. I would have made a pig of myself, if she'd have let me. She left the washing up to me, which alleviated my guilt. Kathy came back as I was drying the last dish. "Okay, baby, bath time." "Already? I don't want to go to bed yet." "I didn't say you had to go to bed, but if you're getting cranky, maybe you should." "No. Sorry." "That's better. Come on then." Bath time was fun. Kathy had picked up some bath toys. It took some encouragement on her part for me to try them out. After pushing a boat around tentatively, she left me alone. Without an audience, it was easier for me to try playing. I was really getting into it when she came back. I didn't want to stop, but she said I was already pruning up, and she needed to get me clean. Her ministrations were fun too. Dried and back in the bedroom, I saw a large cloth diaper on the bed. "Where did that come from?" "I picked those up today," she said, as if she were talking about a new pair of socks. "The lady at the store said they were much more effective for nighttime, especially for side sleepers. She told me they are very comfortable too." I wasn't at all sure about this. Arguing with Kathy is rarely productive, but maybe I could distract her. "But it's still early. I'm not ready to go to bed yet." "It's not that early. You'll be going to bed soon. You may as well get ready now." "But what if I need to pee?" "Well, we'll just have to take it off. Anyway, you just went, and it's not like it would be the first wet diaper you slept in, would it?" "I guess." "Then lay your butt down, so I can get your diaper on, and we can watch TV for a while. Or would you prefer I give you a spanking and put you to bed right now?" I made the only sensible decision. Instead of closing the diaper up right away, Kathy started smearing sticky, white paste on my bottom. "The clerk said it's important to protect against diaper rash when using cloth." Lots of powder followed. Kathy's rubbing everything in overcame any displeasure I had with the experience. All too soon, Kathy brought the front of the diaper up and pinned it in place. She threaded plastic pants over my feet and had me stand up. The cloth diaper—or diapers I should say; there were obviously several—felt entirely different, the plastic pants even more so. The diaper was pleasantly soft, although it inhibited my movements, much like the double disposables had. The plastic pants were scratchy around the openings. They came up well onto my abdomen and ballooned out. They were somewhat stiff and made a soft, almost crackly sound when I moved. I caught sight of myself in Kathy's chevalier mirror. Let's be clear; there is nothing mature looking about a man in an adult diaper, except perhaps the knowledge that old people wear them. However, there is something vaguely clinical about them, and under the right clothes, they are relative discrete. On the other hand, a thick cloth diaper covered by billowing plastic pants is nothing short of infantile. It would take a lot to overcome the impression that the wearer is a big baby who can't control himself. I stared at my reflection for a long time, pondering what I was becoming. "I think you look adorable," Kathy said, hugging me from behind. "Here, let's put your jammies on, and then we can go watch some TV, okay?" I tore my eyes away from the mirror and let Kathy dress me. I was still stunned and had no will to resist. As I walked down the stairs, I felt I was moving as I looked, like a baby. The swaying of my hips and the rustling of the plastic pants confirmed with each step the road I was on. "What's the matter, baby?" Kathy asked when she saw my tears. "That," I said, pointing at the mirror. "That's what's the matter. I'm turning into a baby. What's wrong with me?" "Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with you. You're still my big strong man. It's just that you're my adorable little baby too. And I love you so much!" "How can you love me like… this?" "Sweetie, sweetie, I love you like this, or any other way. This is what you need right now. There's nothing wrong with it. You're having a bit of rough patch right now, and we are dealing with it the best way we know how. You're just feeling vulnerable, and that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay; it's attractive." "You find this attractive?" "Yes, I do. You may not realize it, but you have been far more open than you have been in a really long time. I feel I am able to get closer to you than I can remember. You are letting me in on your feelings, where you have been hiding them for years. It feels good to be needed. If what you are wearing helps with all that, I'm more than okay with it. Truth be told, I find the fact that I'm 'in charge' of some things very sexy." As if to prove the point, she snuggled closer and rubbed the front of my pants. She placed my hand on her own crotch, which was noticeably hot and damp. "I love you, baby, and I always will. Now, how about a smile for Mommy? Can you do that? Would you like Mommy's titty? Would that make you feel better?" Let's just say I was feeling much better by the time we went to sleep. Over the next several weeks, after some trial and error, we settled into a routine. Kathy would drop me off at Nana's house. I would have breakfast and some time to wake up with the paper or internet. There'd be some chores to do before lunch. Afterward, I would be put down for a nap. At first, I fought this, but after getting spankings from both Nana and Kathy, I stopped resisting. After my nap, I'd help Nana with whatever she wanted to do. Sometimes, it was chores; other times, it was baking or shopping. Then, I had playtime; that usually meant the trains. The reason I disliked the naps, and why I fought them the way I did, was that Nana and Kathy insisted that I be diapered, just in case. That wouldn't have been so bad, but they also insisted that throwing away a dry diaper was just wasteful. I did not get my training pants back until I was wet. I think that contributed to my increasingly frequent naptime wettings. I mostly enjoyed my time with Nana. She was sweet, always made me feel special, and often gave me treats. I was starting to put on weight. The downside was her approach to "toilet training" me. She made me try to use the potty far more frequently than necessary. I wouldn't have minded so much, but it always seemed to be at an inopportune moment, and she insisted on taking me and helping me with my pants. I told her I could just go myself, but she would have none of it. She said she had to make sure I hadn't had an accident and that I did something in the toilet. If I didn't produce, the look of disappointment on her face was deeply disheartening. If several attempts did not result in anything, she would make be sit there until something happened. She would get very cross and tell me she was not going to let me wet my pants just because I was too lazy or obstinate to use the potty like a big boy. My protests that she was just making me try too often, and that I always made when I asked to use the potty, fell on deaf ears. This poor timing came to a head one day when I was playing with the trains. I had been very wet after my nap, and Nana made me use the potty a couple of times while doing my chores. I didn't need to go when she took me up a while into my playtime. About fifteen minutes after she let me go downstairs, I started to feel the urge. I was sure she would be back to get me soon, as that had become the pattern. She didn't, and I continued play as my bladder became more insistent. I was getting toward the point of desperation when I went to find Nana and tell I needed the potty. I found her on the phone. I stood and watched her until she took notice of me. She excused herself and covered the mouthpiece. She asked me what I wanted, and I told her of my need. "I just took you a few minutes ago." "I didn't need to go then." "If that's true, you shouldn't need to go that badly now. I'll be with you when I'm off the phone. Go play." "Sorry, about that," she said into the receiver. "I'm watching the neighbor's boy, and he wanted my attention. ... He says he needs to go potty, but I just took him five minutes ago.… No, no, I'm sure he can hold it for a couple of minutes. He needs to learn that he can't just go the moment he feels like it.… Yes, boys are always more difficult to train.… Ha, ha, ha, yes, men too. Davey, go play. I'll be with you as soon as I'm off the phone." I ducked back downstairs, muttering to myself that it had been a lot more than five minutes, and she should have just let me go by myself. I tried to play some more, but my need was growing stronger. A few minutes later, I was back upstairs and making gestures to indicate that time was of the essence. She wasn't paying attention. "Nana," I whispered. Nothing. "Nana," I said a little louder. "Nana," I whined, louder still and fearful I would be heard over the phone. "Davey, don't interrupt. I told you I would be right with you. If you can't behave yourself, you can go stand in the corner. Go on, march." Her look left no doubt that she was serious. I stomped my foot and went to the corner the indicated. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" Her conversation went on and on. It wasn't long before I was clutching myself and shifting from foot to foot. "What? Yours too? I guess you had better be going. Goodbye, Debbie. Give my love to Tony." She must have been talking to her daughter-in-law. She hung up the phone and walked up behind me. She gave a hard swat to my behind. That was more than I could take, and a large squirt erupted into my training pants. "David, I'm very disappointed in you. Don't you know it's rude to interrupt when someone is on the phone? I bet you don't interrupt your Mommy when she's on the phone, do you?" "No," I conceded. "But…" "But nothing. Whatever it was could have waited. I told you I wasn't going to be long." "But I had to go potty," I whined. "You're a big boy, you can hold it for a couple of minutes, can't you?" "Yeah," I said tentatively. "Let's get you to the potty then," she sighed. Once in the bathroom, I started to undo my pants. I was really hoping she would go away. Instead, she brushed my hands away and took over. "David! How could you? You said you could hold it. I thought you were a big boy." "I am. I can. But… you spanked me." "That little slap on the tushy? That's your excuse? Well, we'll just see about that. I'll show you what a real spanking is, after you finish on the potty. If there's anything left, that is." She pushed me down firmly onto the seat and, much to my embarrassment, pushed my pee pee down between my legs for me. She would usually leave me alone to do my business, but not this time. She hovered, glaring at me and tapping her foot. I forced myself to overcome my bladder shyness and peed a still considerable amount. I felt the rumblings of a bowel movement coming on, but with Nana standing there, it wasn't going to happen. When she decided it was done, grabbed my wrist, pulled me up, flushed the toilet, and dragged me to her room with my pants still around my ankles. She grabbed a hairbrush off her dresser and sat down on her bed. I was over her knees in a trice. She put the hairbrush to work right away and had me blubbering out excuses, apologies, and promises before I could think. She kept up a steady barrage of scolding. "I just can't believe it, a big boy like you, interrupting me on the phone, peeing his pants, blaming it on one little slap, can't wait a couple of minutes to use the potty. I've known toddlers better behaved. Just wait till your Mommy hears about this. I'm sure she won't be happy. I can tell you this. You' won't be wetting your pants again in my house, not today. You're going right back into diapers where you belong." I'm not sure those were her exact words, but they were the gist of it. I'm not even sure she heard my protests that I tried, and she was a lot longer than a couple of minutes on the phone. I hadn't realized she stopped when she made me stand up and dragged me to the room I napped in. She pushed me down on the bed and got a diaper out. My blazing behind was wrapped up before I knew, and she was telling me I would be staying in bed the rest of the afternoon. "And if I hear one peep out of you, you'll think that spanking was playing pat-a-cake." She left me sobbing, while she muttered about the earful my mommy was going to get later. I willed myself to sleep, anything to avoid thoughts of what Mommy was going to say when she got there. I felt a gentle shaking of my shoulder, drawing me back to the land of the living. I was grateful to escape my troubled dreams, but when I saw Mommy sitting beside me, my eyes began to fill with tears again. I opened my mouth to beg her forgiveness, but she placed a finger over my lips. "Not now, sweetie. We'll talk about it when we get home." She helped me to sit up and put on some pants. "Let's get you home and fed, and we'll have a nice long talk, okay?" She didn't seem mad. That worried me. It wasn't like Kathy to restrain her feelings, and when she did, it usually resulted in a real blowout. She took my hand and led me downstairs. I followed with trepidation. Nana was waiting. She appeared considerably calmer too. I didn't understand, but I was not unhappy when she gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, with promises to see me tomorrow. Kathy was crossing the street leisurely, but my stress level went up with every step closer to our house. I was sure she would lower the boom as soon as we were behind closed doors. Instead, she pulled me into an embrace and rocked me. Without letting go, she made a quick diaper check and announced I would be fine until after supper. She took me into the kitchen and had me sit, while she prepared our meal. I asked if I could help, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was a simple supper, which I would have enjoyed more if I hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sweetie, about what happened at Nana's today," she began. Here it comes, I thought. "Nana wanted me to apologize for her getting so upset with you. After she put you down and had time to think, she realized that she really was talking for a long time, and she should have listened to you and taken you to the potty sooner." "If she'd just let me go by myself…" "Shh. It's okay. We know you are having trouble making it to the potty in time, and we shouldn't keep you waiting." "But I can," I protested. "Honey, are your pants wet now?" Without thinking, I put my hands to my crotch, and blushed when I felt the squish. "Come here, baby." I stood and walked around to her. She unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down. She squeezed the front of my diaper and looked at me. "Sweetie, you are more wet than when I got you up from your nap. Did you know that?" I didn't, and I felt another cry coming on. "There, there, sweetheart. Don't worry. Mommy's not mad. I know you can't help it. I think your worrying about keeping your pants dry is getting to be too much for you. You're just not ready yet." "I am," I whined. "No, honey, I don't think so. That's why Mommy got you some new diapers today. They're cloth and have Velcro. You'll be able to feel if you wet them, and Nana will be able to get them off in a hurry if she has to. I don't want you to worry about making it to the potty in time. Nana will take you when she thinks you should try, but if you wet your diaper, nobody is going to be mad. No more spankings for wet pants, doesn't that sound good?" Something in her logic felt wrong, but I found myself nodding in agreement. "We can try potty training again after a while, but for right now, I want you to relax and not think about it, okay? You just play and help Nana and Mommy when we ask. Will you do that for Mommy?" Kathy was being so nice about the whole thing, I just sniffled and nodded my ascent. She stood up and drew me into a hug that I could have stayed in forever. "Let's get you a nice tubby and then you can go night-night, okay?" Do I have to? by nautybaby ©2019-2024

Good Morning! I have been working on a game for three weeks and I would like you to see what I have done so far, I have been working on the map design and soon I will be able to dedicate myself completely to the story, which I plan to be very long, I have many ideas! If you want to follow this project more closely I will leave you a link to the patreon in which I am publishing it, in addition to the fact that once the map finishes well and has some history, I will publish a totally free Demo. I hope you give me a lot of advice, since I am a little newbie creating video games, and finally I can tell you that right now the game is only in Spanish, although I have thought that for the first version outside of Alpha, it will also be in English! Kisses~ and thanks for reading me n.n Links: https://www.patreon.com/ABDLMiah Links: https://abdlmiah.itch.io/a-whole-week-in-diapers [Alpha 0.21] [Game Update 07/22/2021] In this version, the “potty system” has finally been implemented. I have been working on this update for a long time, now the pee meter works together with the system, when you almost reach the limit the character will pee a little and if it reaches the limit limit will not be able to hold and will let everything out. This update brings 45 different phrases depending on the mental age of the character and how much he wants to go to the bathroom! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Trinket By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Hunter Chapter One The Will Hunter sighed as his mother, who he was currently on the phone with, continued to drawl about the contractual obligations he now had to abide by. His great aunt, or now his late great aunt, had left him a few things in her will that came with a few specific rules. The fennec fox had barely known her, other than seeing her at a Christmas party and once during Thanksgiving when he was very young. She was not really even his aunt, being an in-law and a cheetah to boot. He had heard a few stories about her, some from his mother who had always spoken about her with a degree of awe mixed with disapproval. Whether or not she was even really his aunt in-law was in question sometimes, but her presence in the family was nevertheless appreciated, if not coveted. She had been an Egyptianologist, but not the kind that mostly stays on the campus of a university. Accused several times of being no better than a bounty hunter with a college degree, she would often beguile whoever cared to listen at the taverns and bars she was often found at about her great adventures in the middle east. There were usually many stories told and drinks bought during such evenings. Her alcoholism aside, she had apparently kept up her taste for adventuring into abandoned tombs and caves right up until the very end. They never recovered her, but enough time had passed where her body had been declared lost and her vast collection of artifacts reclaimed by the museums and universities. Judging from their hasty reclamation of such items, they had been waiting for exactly such an opportunity as her disappearance. They had claimed most of the artifacts, at least. “So like, dumb it down for me a bit, Mom?” Hunter asked, a slight note of exasperation coloring his tone of voice as one of his large ears flicked to the side in irritation. It was his mother’s turn to sigh, which was followed up by a response. “You just can’t sell any of the stuff. You’re supposed to keep it as if it were a family heirloom. There’s some evidence to support that this does belong to us give or take a hundred generations.” Hunter replied back. “Right, don’t sell. Just keep it. Anything else?” “Not until they go through the rest of her possessions and check her records. You might be getting some money too, but that’ll take a while.” Right… After the state takes its hefty cut… Hunter thought to himself, but he did his best to keep his sense of sarcasm out of the conversation. “Great, thanks Mom.” “Of course honey, was there anything else you wanted to know about Auntie Tare?” Hunter, knowing that this would probably prolong the conversation for another good hour, shook his head before realizing that his mother could not see his reaction. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hrm… No, no. I think I’m good for now, still… Processing and all that. I’ll talk to you later Mom.” “Okay sweetie, let me know what’s in the box. It looks mysterious!” “Yeah, I will. Love you Mom.” “Love you sweetie, bye bye now.” The line went silent, and Hunter put his phone down on the table with a sigh of relief. As silence enveloped the apartment, interrupted only by the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the fennec’s gaze drifted over to the box that sat in front of him on the dining room table. The word that could describe the wooden container could only be described as ornate. Carvings of Egyptian hieroglyphs laced with what he suspected was gold lining on the borders of the miniature crate gave the appearance of a most valuable item being stored inside. The wood had been treated with oil, and with great care as well. Part of him wondered if the box might be empty, as the container itself looked relatively valuable. Whatever it was, he was not surprised that his aunt had mentioned that he was not allowed to sell it. I’d probably make a pretty penny off of it too… Hunter mused to himself, as he pushed his chair back and stood up, only to crouch in front of the box in order to more closely examine its decor. He was not literate in Egyptian hieroglyphs, nor was he particularly interested in learning more about them. History had always bored the little fox, and despite having a renowned, though estranged, Egyptologist in the family it never sparked the same fascination and excitement as it did in Aunt Tare. Well, might as well have a look then. Reaching forward, he undid the clasp on the front of the box and pushed the lid open. Its hinges worked silently, and Hunter immediately noted that the entire inside of the box was laced with a vibrant, purple velvet. Amidst the swathes of cloth, Hunter beheld a palm sized brooch made of a mixture of dulled copper and gold. Marveling at it, the fennec’s eyes widened as he scanned its surface. The fennec picked it up with a paw and noted its significant weight. Equipped with a pin which Hunter presumed was intended to keep a cloak around a traveler’s shoulders, Hunter turned the brooch over and let out a surprised breath. The ornament had been placed upside down in its container, and it was studded with several small jewels with one large piece in its center. Peering closely at them, it took Hunter a moment to realize that they were opals. In the center of the metal disk, the largest of the opals was oval in shape. It gleamed as if freshly polished when it caught the last of the afternoon sun streaming from Hunter’s half shuttered window. A small scratch in the center of the opal was the only blemish on the piece, revealing the rainbow colored insides of the gem that refracted in ever changing patterns of color as he turned it over. Strangely, despite the fact that it had been sitting in the box ever since it had been delivered to his doorstep inside of its own, discrete cardboard container, the brooch was warm to the touch. And it felt like it was getting warmer. “It’s… pretty…” Hunter said lamely, to no one in particular. His initial curiosity had been sated, and he was now coming to the conclusion that he really had no use for the gem-encrusted display piece other than to perhaps show it off for his friends. The more he thought about it, being the owner of such a valuable piece now might mean that he would have to take insurance out on it. Great… Another responsibility… The fennec thought grimly to himself. Hunter was about to set the artifact down, when the opal flashed catching his eyes. Blinking, he looked down at the gem and wondered if he had imagined the sudden luminescence that had come from the piece. Gingerly, he brought it back up to his eyes and peered closely at the scratch on the gem’s surface to see if he had missed some refractive angle inside of the opal’s crack. Seeing that there was nothing he could immediately detect, he placed the brooch back down in its comfortable bed, this time right side up with the opal facing the ceiling of his apartment. He thought about where he should put the box, glancing around his apartment and seeing now apparent free space where he might rest it. I’ll probably just chuck it into my closet or something… His stomach rumbled, reminding him that his mother’s phone call had caused him to miss lunch at a reasonable hour. Closing the box, he decided to put his inheritance out of his mind for the time being. Padding over to his closet, he picked out his jacket and fumbled the keys to his apartment out of the bowl they rested in. I’m kind of hankering for some chicken… He thought to himself, his mind already beginning to drift away from the strange set of rocks that were now his, now and forever. He did, however, check twice that he had locked the door to his apartment before bounding down the staircase leading to the lobby of his apartment complex.

So an online kink video game maker "Jenna D" made a video game based off one of my older stories. You play as a babysitter who finds a genie's lamp, and accidently wishes herself into the care of her (now grown up) ward. Will you end up back in charge, or permanently in diapers? See it here https://jennad.itch.io/wish-of-the-babysitter Or https://www.patreon.com/posts/wish-of-84535115 Special thanks to JennaD