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  1. The Rules for Tabitha: If Tabitha is in a permission window, she may use the potty. Otherwise, she may not. If a permission window ends and she hasn’t used the potty, and Tabitha is not in front of a stranger, she must pee immediately. If she is in front of a stranger, she must seek privacy and immediately pee her pants. Tabitha must wear a diaper to bed, since she won’t know when to wake up to pee. That’s it. Those are the rules. The app: if (windowtimer == 0) { current_timer = pottytimer; pottytimer = random_range_minutes(15, 30); } if (pottytimer == 0) { play (ringtone_pottypants); current_timer = windowtimer; windowtimer = random_range_minutes(120, 480); } draw string (current_timer); It’d been simple enough to program–a randomized timer, a simple UI, and a notification sound. Anita had put it together in twenty minutes; the hardest part was installing it on Tabitha’s phone. Permission windows would last between fifteen and thirty minutes, and appear every two to eight hours–simple. Tabitha had gone along with it, too, despite all the potential pitfalls–she was confident that she’d win out against her girlfriend, and get back on top. Cocky, even–’Just you wait, in a week you’ll be the one in potty pants’. There were no tricks, no ‘gotchas’ built in. If Tabitha checked her phone regularly, watching for permission windows, making it to the potty would be trivial–but without a notification chime to signal the start of a window, only the end, she’d need to be constantly vigilant. A window could pop up at any time, and she desperately wanted to avoid missing them. If she went the whole week without a single accident–not counting the mandatory bedwetting–Anita would have to wear diapers for a month. If, however, Tabitha at least managed to keep it under three total daytime accidents, they’d call the bet a wash. For every accident beyond the third, though, Tabitha would be the household baby for two days longer. “You’re ready, potty pants?” Anita giggled, grinning at her girlfriend. “I’m going to keep my pants perfectly dry, thank you very much,” Tabitha retorted, sticking out her tongue. “The potty pants here is you, just you wait.” “Mhmm,” Anita gloated. “I’m not the one practicing her potty training.” As an act of defiance, she’d worn pale white jeans, so that any accident would stand out starkly. She wouldn’t be losing, after all. She’d put timers on her phone to remind her to check for permission windows, and her drive to win would see her through the week. They’d deliberately started on a Sunday–So that their bet would start and end on the weekend. Anita wanted to see Tabitha’s first scrambles to get to the bathroom, her desperate rush when she realized she only had a couple minutes standing between her and a soggy bottom. She got her first thrill of pleasure a couple hours later. Halfway through making lunch together, maneuvering around each other in the kitchen, one of Tabitha’s reminders beeped. Anita watched with a smirk as her girlfriend checked her phone, canceled the timer, and swiped over to the potty app. “–fuck,” Tabitha blurted, all but dropping her phone onto the counter and tearing across the kitchen, eyes huge. The bathroom was only about fifteen feet away, but Tabitha crossed it in less than a second, trying to fumble the door open and strip out of her pants at the same time. Anita burst out giggling, watching her girlfriend half stumble into the bathroom. Tabitha didn’t even shut the door, throwing herself onto the toilet instead, the sound of splashing water sending Anita into laughing fits. Not ten seconds later, she heard the pleasant chime notification she’d chosen, indicating how narrow the margin had been between success and pants-ruining disaster. Tabitha sulked out of the bathroom a minute later, blushing profusely. “Not funny.” “Aww, did you dribble into your panties?” Anita teased. “Maybe you should just start wearing diapers right away.” “The app cheated!” Tabitha fumed. “You programmed it wrong. “I did no such thing. How regular are your reminders?” Anita asked. “Every fifteen minutes,” Tabitha replied. “So there’s no way I can miss a window.” “There is, though,” Anita pointed out. “If you get the shortest possible window right after your reminder goes off–you’ll never see the window until it’s too late.” “Ugh,” Tabitha groaned, resetting her phone timer to give her alerts every twelve minutes. Anita giggled all the way through the afternoon. Tabitha had two more potty trips, and though neither of them were so dramatic as the first, she still enjoyed watching her girlfriend’s eyes widen in alarm before the inevitable rush to go. “What?” Tabitha demanded, after catching Anita’s nearly-permanent smirk yet again. “The timer,” Anita explained. “It’s just like one of those potty training watches. Y’know, the ones they make for toddlers.” “Ugh,” Tabitha said. “I am so looking forward to seeing your face when you lose.” Anita strongly doubted that would happen, so she just smirked. She knew Tabitha, and could guess how long Tabitha’s focus would last. And–maybe, if she were pressed, Anita would admit to cheating a bit. At the very least, she put a thumb on the scale when she picked out a long movie and turned up the volume. It didn’t quite drown out Tabitha’s phone alarm, but it came close–and, more than once, Tabitha missed her personal reminders. What she didn’t miss, near the end of the film, was the chime that cut through the on-screen hero’s stirring monologue. Tabitha blinked, looking down at her phone. An ignored timer languished, and the notification on screen read, ‘POTTY TIME.’ Her mouth opened, slack-jawed. “Uh–” “Oh noooo,” Anita said, feigning shock. “You didn’t make it!” Cheeks flushing, Tabitha started to stand, but Anita grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down onto their old thrift-store couch. “Oh no, you’re going right here–and you’re doing the cleanup, too. Just be glad I scotch-guarded your side of the couch.” “But–” Tabitha started. Anita shook her head. “You know the rules.” Balling her hands into embarrassed fists, Tabitha shut her eyes and kept her promise. A brilliant yellow stain flowered on the crotch of her jeans, quickly spreading down her thighs, pooling around her butt. The water resistant spray held up admirably, so that more urine ran down her white jeans onto the floor than got on the couch cushions, though it’d still need a round of cleanup to get it back to good. “Awww,” Anita cooed, reaching over to pause the film. “It’s alright, potty pants–you just didn’t make it in time!” “I–” Tabitha stammered. “This isn’t fair.” “Well, you get to wet yourself two more times before you’re in real trouble,” Anita warned. “And there’s only six days left–so I’m sure you’ll be fine, right?” Getting to her feet, the shocking yellow all the more visible around her butt, Tabitha stamped her foot in petulant annoyance. “Yes.” Neither of them believed it. And especially not when the weekday rolled around. Tabitha hadn’t been completely dumb about things–she worked at a tiny cell phone repair store that typically had her in front and a coworker working the front counter, and on the off occasions where she had to man reception, it wasn’t for long. She typically had schematics and instructions open on her phone anyways, and rushing off to the bathroom wouldn’t get in the way. She got through work just fine, with nary an accident in sight. But the commute–that caused a problem. Her drive to work had gotten lucky; even with a lengthy stint in traffic, she never had a potty window open up. The drive home, though, went differently. She checked her notifications before she left and ensured no potty window opened up, but what she couldn’t account for was the rush hour traffic on the way home, turning a fifteen minute drive into a thirty minute slog. Parking behind Anita’s motorcycle, she took out her phone and– (Fifty seconds?!) Scrambling, she threw open the car door and ran down the sidewalk to their home, grabbing the handle, reaching to her pocket for– Her keys were still in her car; she’d forgotten to take them out of the ignition in her mad dash. With thirty five seconds to go, she ran back to her car, but the driver's door was locked. She’d need the spare key, which was inside, and– She had no time for that, and she knew it. Running back to the front door, she tried the handle, desperately, then ran to the window. Both locked. Panic rising, she looked around–nobody was outside in their neighborhood, at least not that she could see, except a dog walker a block and a half down moving away from her. At a loss for what else to do, she hooked the waistband of her pants with her thumbs, jerked down, and squatted next to the door, barely saving herself the embarrassment of wet pants before she heard the chime. As she watered the flowers, she heard a knock on the window, and looked up to see Anita smirking down at her. Voice muffled by the glass, her girlfriend called out, “That still counts as an accident!” If Tabitha hadn’t been so mortified, she might have argued, but all she could muster up the strength for was a meek nod. Two days in, and she only had one accident left before she’d start accruing diaper time. And, just to rub things in, when they watched TV that evening Anita made her sit on the floor–”In case of little baby accidents”. Tuesday was better. She was diligent–she never missed a window, always caught it right away, and even loitered after work a bit to ensure she wouldn’t hit rush hour traffic again, hitting up the grocery store near the shop to kill time. What she failed to account for was not that she’d miss a window, but that one simply wouldn’t appear–by the time she got home, it’d been six hours since she’d had a window to pee, and her bladder was full to bursting. Anita misread her expression when she walked inside, taking the desperation on Tabitha’s face as embarrassment. “Aww,” she cooed. “Did you have an accident at work?” Tabitha shook her head, thighs pressed together, shifting her weight. “No, it’s just…whatever.” It was her subtle dance that tipped Anita off. “Oh, you can’t hold it much longer, can you?” Cheeks puffing up in indignation, Tabitha nodded. “Yes. You set the maximum time for too long.” “You can’t even hold it for eight hours?” Anita asked. Tabitha shook her head. “Um…it’s only been six, I just had too much to drink.” Anita snorted, walking over to greet her with a hug and a kiss. “Well, I promise not to play any waterfall noises to make your situation worse.” Shifting in her partner’s embrace, Tabitha smiled and hugged back, arms wrapped around each other. “Thanks.” “But I never said anything about tickling,” Anita said. It was too late for Tabitha to escape, Anita already had her. Hands sliding up, her fingers tickled beneath Tabitha’s armpits, her touch just gentle enough to be excruciatingly tickly, pulling giggles from deep within Tabitha’s soul. She fussed and stomped her feet, but it did nothing to keep her bladder in check, control bursting at Anita’s touch. Her pants flooded, and for the third time in as many days, she peed somewhere far, far away from the potty. That’s when Anita proposed the deal–while Tabitha was still blushing and humiliated, hot pee freshly staining her trousers. “You know,” she said, “since you’ve clearly failed your potty training, you can just be a potty pants for the rest of the week. I’ll even change your diapers for you, and then you can just pee whenever the timer tells you, or when you need to, and you won’t even have to do any laundry.” It was said so matter-of-factly, so evenly, that Tabitha just nodded. She’d lost the bet, she could see that, it would be better to cut her losses and admit defeat. If she kept this up, she’d have four more days of wet pants, and at least that many days in diapers after the fact. She missed the hidden meaning in Anita’s words. From the tone, Tabitha assumed that they were calling the bet off, but Anita had never said those words, never made that promise. Every accident would still add to Tabitha’s time in diapers, per their promise to each other, whether she peed in her jeans or went full-time potty pants and peed in diapers. Too humiliated to think straight, Tabitha said, “Okay–that’s…that’s okay. I’ll wear diapers.” In her head, she was agreeing to four days padded, give or take, but those weren’t the rules she’d agreed to–the rules were a simple algorithm, and they didn’t care if Tabitha peed into her pants or a diaper. All that mattered was whether she made it into the potty or not. Anita just smiled, and led her upstairs, before sealing her girlfriend into diapers for weeks. ... This story features my favorite pair of switchy diaper girls, who've appeared in several other stories of mine - Including an exclusive over on Patreon. If you like pants wetting and power play like this, "The Holding Challenge" features these two girls in a battle for dominance - whoever keeps their pants dry the longest gets to be the Big for a week. Subscribers can read it over on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/posts/holding-patreon-52901536 Or on SubscribeStar! https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling
  2. Please help! Recently I purchased rearz alpaka diapers as I haven't had a chance to wear diapers for the last 9 months, I'm planning to have a crazy fun diaper day. I do have a upcoming day in which, I will be alone in my house for 3 full days. Does any one have any challenges or experimental methods that I should try out. I had an idea of putting ice cubes in the front and back of diaper or even bananas or drinking sprite and eating bananas. If you do have more interesting / fun / clever ideas please let me know, dont be shy as I'm open and willing to try every thing atleast once.
  3. Henry is seven (Not to be confused with any of the Shakespearian Henrys) The paediatric nurse Ellie is eighteen and able to leave school to pursue a career close to her heart. Ever since she was little she’d always wanted to take care of children and, when an opportunity came up to take a course in paediatric nursing she jumped at the chance. She’d already been a volunteer at Saint Clare’s the local hospice and of course, what also helped was being ten years older than her brother, so had, over the years, taken care of him when their mother was otherwise engaged. Ellie was a young woman full of care, consideration and love, all of which she displayed to those she was charged to look after. She loved the work. Her brother Henry had been born ten years after Ellie, same mother but from a different father. Her own dad, Michael Warren, had married his childhood sweetheart Debra Gold, when, at the age of twenty-five, they could see no reason not to. He’d got a well-paid job at the local quarry straight from school and she’d been a top honours student but wanted to work rather than pursue further studies. She quickly established herself in the financial accounts department of a legal firm and made quite a reputation for herself. With the birth of Ellie, decided she’d cope with child and career from home and set up her own freelance financial advice/accounts company. Unfortunately, eight years later an accident at the quarry had left the wonderful Michael fatally injured and the small family unit almost fell apart. They managed the best they could, the compensation pay-out helping alleviate the financial worries a little. However, eighteen months later Daryl Woodhouse met and dated Debra. He was a funny, slim man, almost the exact opposite of her first husband, and he brought a much-needed breath of fresh air into the household. Alas, he was a freeloader and Debra only realised her mistake when, as the money run out, so did he. By then she was three months pregnant but thanks to her daughter and close-knit family, managed to get over him. She wasn’t going to let her resentment of his father cloud the view of her new son, Henry (named after Michael’s father) and so put the name Warren on the birth certificate. Although Ellie and the family knew he was from a different father, Debra insisted that he be treated as if he was Michael’s son and he was never to know who his real father was. Keeping this lie proved easier than expected because baby Henry was a little treasure. Everyone, including his older sister, doted on this smiling bundle of joy and he instantly slipped into being an important part of the family. Brother and sister were inseparable; he adored Ellie and she was always there to help and teach him as he grew up. # With Ellie already having helped out at the children’s hospital and the attached hospice she knew that paediatric nursing was not an easy job. Not only was she helping children from babies to teenagers, she also had the emotional journey of all that entailed. Babies that needed almost twenty-four hour care, young boys and girls who from some accident or disease needed help or supervision, the job was as much about sensitivity as medical care. Ellie was determined to get it right from the off and throw herself into it with gusto… she didn’t want to get anything wrong. To this end she decided to enlist the help of Henry. He was a robust, noisy, exuberant seven year old, who enjoyed all the pleasures a second grader could appreciate. However, when asked by his adored sister if she could practice on him, he approached this request with some apprehension. He wasn’t sure what it entailed but she promised it wouldn’t involve any ‘medical’ procedure. She said she just didn’t want to harm kids who were already suffering in one way or another simply because of not knowing how to do something quickly, carefully and with a degree of professionality. Henry had always done as his sister wanted but now, at seven, he felt he liked his independence and was weary of committing himself to do anything. Especially as the summer break was here and he planned to be out and about playing with his group of school mates. Ellie promised she would only practice on him when he was home our before bed and that nothing she did would impose on his fun. His mother encouraged him to ‘rally round’ and had a private word with him saying how pleased she’d be if he helped his sister attain the job she so desperately wanted. He loved his mom and loved his sister so… how could he refuse? # Ellie explained to her brother just what her job would entail. He wasn’t aware she would have to look after kids who were nearly as old as she was and who needed help with even the most basic of tasks. Even though she’d changed Henry’s nappy when he was a baby, he was potty trained by his third birthday, and she really had no idea how to go about changing someone older. She knew she’d be taught how to cope with a larger body but there were other considerations to think about. Most of the paediatric staff was female but they would be required to attend to older boys as well as girls, she wanted to get it right. So, on that first night of ‘Henry practice’ the bandages and other medical kit she was going to employ to begin with had been left in a separate bag at the hospice. Thankfully, the actual bag she had brought had all the things she needed for other training purposes. She nappied him. He was embarrassed throughout the entire procedure and had been reluctant to let it happen. However, she’d insisted that some kids needed help even getting undressed so he should let her do everything and that included seeing him nude. Not that his sister hadn’t seen his naked little bum racing around the house ever since he could crawl but at seven years old bashfulness was becoming a thing he was aware of. Any unwillingness was overcome by a word of encouragement, and promise of some future wish granted from his mother, which meant Ellie could get on with the exercise and Henry would simply comply. She stripped him and applied the wipes and creams she’d been told were needed to keep that particular area free of ‘the nasties’. She let out a schoolgirl giggle when she described it with those words to her brother. He looked horrified that such areas should even have ‘nasties’ around. She explained throughout the procedure what she was doing and why. Despite the awkwardness he realised just what a hard job his sister was undertaking. The idea that older kids might need nappies had never occurred to him and, after giving him a couple of examples of the problems some of her patients had, Henry was a little less anxious. “Don’t you use disposables?” Henry wondered. “Most of the time, but some kids are allergic or have different needs so we have to learn to be able to do everything… and that my dear, sweet little brother, is why I need to practice on you.” She smiled as the soft but thick fabric was pulled up between his legs. “So feel free to wriggle around a bit.” Once fitted in the nappy and plastic pants she asked him to walk around and give his opinion of fit; tightness, looseness, comfort, etc. Henry looked at himself in the mirror and burst out in embarrassed laughter. “I look, I look like a big… a big… “ “Maybe, but think of the poor kids who HAVE to wear that all the time?” Ellie looked at him in the mirror and patted the padding down a bit. “Erm, yes, er, it fits well.” For a moment guilt swept through his seven year old body when he realised some unfortunate kids had no alternative. After all, no one else knew or could see him wearing a nappy so why should it bother him? He knew his sister only wanted what was best for her patients and decided that if he could help, even in just this most simple of ways, he would. The padding wasn’t hurting him and Ellie had laid it on pretty thick (just like the nappy) he would be helping her help them. He paraded around the bedroom for a short while. “It does feel strange having all this between my legs… but it’s not uncomfortable.” “That’s reassuring,” she said relieved. With each unfamiliar step Henry could hear the tell-tale rustle of the plastic. The plain white vinyl cover really not hiding the fact of what lay beneath. “This,” he said rubbing the slippery cover, “doesn’t hide anything…” “It’s not supposed to,” Ellie confirmed. “It’s to keep from any leaks happening.” She slipped her finger between the tight elasticated legs and gently felt the soft fabric underneath. “This can get absolutely soaked so, like when you were a baby, it keeps the rest of your clothes and bedding dry until someone can come and change you.” He looked at her as if she thought he was stupid. “I know that.” # She patted his padded bottom. “Okay clever dick, let me try a different way of folding the fabric and see how that feels and then…” After a brief sigh he let Ellie get on with the second change and again was positive about a job well done. She explained that some kids were simply incontinent; whilst others had medical procedures that meant different techniques of protection were needed. Henry looked at the pile of disposable, fabric nappies, plastic covers and other assorted items she needed for her job and was glad he didn’t require any of this stuff on a permanent basis. Ellie was thorough as she manoeuvred the dense material under his bottom, pulled it through his legs and pinned it into place. As if on cue, his mother popped her head around the door to see how things were going. “Oh sweetheart, you look… lovely.” Although this had been said in a friendly way, Henry, who was laid out on the floor, and all but naked, wriggled in embarrassment. “Moommmmm.” “Sorry, sorry… but you do look cute.” She teased. “Mom!” There was no doubt about it, seeing her seven year old son wearing nothing but a nappy had made her go all gooey inside. She was shocked at just how much the feeling of maternal pride and love swamped her body just from seeing him look so sweet and vulnerable. She swallowed a gulp of emotion and smiled. “Okay. I’m making a hot drink… do you two want one as well?” “Yes please,” they chorused. “But not in a baby’s bottle.” Henry added. “Owww but sweetheart… you’d look…” She couldn’t help herself especially when she realised she wasn’t just teasing him. “MOM.” She disappeared just as Ellie pulled him to his feet. “For the last time tonight… how does that feel?” He stood up and walked around and gave a little jump. The nappy was soft, thick and fleecy and it did feel slightly different to the others. “A bit loose… I think with the plastic pants it would be alright.” He gave another little jump as if to prove his point. They didn’t fall down so he jumped again but the nappy stayed steadfastly in place. Not for the first time a smile appeared on Ellie’s face. “Mum’s right, you do look very cute in those.” “Look, if you’re gonna make fun I’m…” “No, sorry, you’re correct. Thank you for all your help. Let me take it off for you… unless you want to keep it on?” She chuckled to herself at the idea, whilst Henry simply pulled at the pins to dispose of the thing as quickly as possible. …to be continued
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