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  1. 18-year-old Benjamin has just been evicted from the college dorms after he has failed out of college for the semester. He sits in the student lounge with his bags while he figures out his next moves. His former professor Megan is talking to her faculty friend and sees him sitting alone. She is confused because he is supposed to be in her class for the semester. "Hi Ben. I missed you in my class this semester. Are you okay?"
  2. The one thing Madelyn desires most in the world is to wear diapers again, and she is prepared to do anything to make that wish come true. As inexplicable as that desire is for a twelve-year-old girl, it is one she has obsessed over for the past three years. Ever since Madelyn tried on a pull-up that a distant cousin had used for bedwetting, the thought of what it would be like to forego her underwear for that padded, crinkling sensation between her legs has been a desire she has been unable to shake. Every other plan to get her hands on diapers or pull-ups has failed up to now. But this time it is going to be different. This time it is going to work. This time she isn’t going to back out at the last minute. The plan is simple. All Madelyn has to do is intentionally begin to wet the bed at night. Then, her parents will have no choice but to get her the diapers she so badly desires. What could possibly go wrong? Chapter 1: Daydreams in Class I will not chicken out this time. That was what I had told myself two days ago. That was also what I had told myself yesterday. Third time was the charm, right? It was easy to put a bold face to my latest harebrained scheme to acquire diapers from the safety of my daydreams. It was much harder when the time came to actually carry out the plan that had been brewing in the back of my mind for the past year – one I had finally decided to put into motion this week. Why would a 12-year-old girl want to wear diapers in the first place? I don’t know. All I know is that for the past three years, nothing I have done has been successful at getting this obsession out of my head. I certainly didn’t have any interest in being a baby. My younger brother, Jackson, is only six years old. I discovered where Mom kept all his old baby stuff long ago. I’ve tried his old pacifiers, bottles, and sippy cups. None of those items held any appeal for me. I can’t stand kids’ TV shows. I can’t color to save my life. And don’t get me started on dollhouses, barbies, and whatever other toys babies like to play with. In every aspect of my life other than this strange desire for diapers, I wanted to act my age. My latest plan all started a year ago with a magazine and a desire to procrastinate on my homework. There had to be some level of irony to the fact that this latest idea came about when I was seated on the porcelain throne. Mom had almost a dozen different magazines she subscribed to. Most of them found their way to the bathroom, which was also probably the only circumstance where I would have even considered reading them in the first place. I was already finished doing my business, but leaving the bathroom meant needing to continue a homework assignment I’d been slowly picking away at for the past hour. The only reason I even bothered to pick up a copy of the Reader’s Digest on that day about a year ago was for the few sections where it had funny jokes and stories. That, and I had left my smartphone in the bedroom. I really didn’t know how my parents managed when they were my age. I skimmed through the first section of jokes. Whoever had put together this edition of the magazine had totally mailed it in. There was a completely unoriginal one about redheads and souls that had me tempted to toss the magazine in the garbage. I mean, with how many magazines Mom had, would she even miss it? Redhead jokes get old really quick when you’ve had people telling you them your whole life. It has been forever since I’d been told one I hadn’t heard before. And even longer since I’ve been told one that was actually funny. Maybe I would have better luck with the second humor section toward the back of the magazine. I flipped through the pages casually when one of the advertisements caught my eye. I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. There it was. Right on the page. An exact replicate of the pull-up I had briefly stolen from a cousin two years ago. But there was more. That pull-up from two years ago had been the boys’ designs. This ad showed that there were ones for girls as well. And even though I’d had a pretty good growth spurt in the past two years, the product info indicated that I wasn’t even close to being too big to wear them. I didn’t tuck the magazine in the trash, but I did take it with me from the bathroom, burying it deep inside my box of miscellaneous things in my bedroom. I’ve looked at that page at least once a day for the past year. “Earth to Maddy. Earth to Maddy. We’re calling in.” My head jerked upright from the hard wooden desk in my math classroom to the sound of laughter. “Here!” I called back to our math teacher. “Well, thank you for joining us again, Maddy. Now,” he said, pointing to a cluster of numbers, letters, and symbols on the whiteboard, “that we’ve isolated ‘x’ on this side of the equation. Can you tell us what it is?” I had enough trouble paying attention in classes that I liked. For ones I hated? The temptation to daydream was hard to resist. And I hated math class. It was hard enough when we were dealing with regular numbers. I would be lucky to scrape by with a “B-” on my report card. But now, with the end of the school year in sight, my math teacher had ever-so-helpfully decided to give us a sneak peek of some of the things we got to look forward to learning next year in eighth grade. I sucked at long division. But it at least made sense conceptually. The numbers were real, even if doing the work to get the answer was tedious. But now there was this thing the teacher called Algebra, where we were supposed to be adding up letters as well as numbers, which was beyond my ability to comprehend. Every “x” and “y” on the whiteboard seemed designed to taunt me. May as well put a “D” or a “C” on the board, as that was about what I could expect on my report card next year if this was what was in store for me. I stared blankly at the whiteboard with the sinking feeling that even if I had been paying attention for the past five minutes, I wouldn’t be any closer to understanding what was going on. “Um,” I said, picking at my nails while I continued to stare ahead. I had to at least give some kind of guess. But my brain and my mouth sometimes aren’t exactly in sync with one another. “The spot.” “I’m sorry. What was that?” Mr. Thompson asked. “You know, the spot. Like, ‘x’ marks the spot.” The classroom was full of laughter again. This time with me rather than at me. I made eye contact with one of my friends, Angie, who turned to look back at me from the front row. We shared a smirk at the joke. Mr. Thompson sighed. “Everyone settled down, please.” He gave me a look that suggested he might be once again telling my parents about how I had apparently been disruptive in class. “Now, Maddy, if you had been paying attention as we worked through this problem, you would know that the answer was actually…” I didn’t even manage to pay attention long enough to get to the answer to what ‘x’ happened to be or what sorcery had been used to arrive at that conclusion. I fixed my eyes on a spot on the whiteboard, a method I had mastered to trick teachers into thinking I was actually paying attention to their nonsense when I’d rather be daydreaming. My thoughts slipped back toward my plans for this evening. The third time had to be the charm, right? It wasn’t really my fault the first two attempts at wetting the bed had failed. The first night, I had simply been too tired. We’d had an exhausting soccer game that evening that had gone on to overtime, and we’d been shorthanded, so I hadn’t spent almost any time on the bench. I had fully intended to stay up past midnight but had used the excuse of being tired to back out of it. Instead, I let myself drift off to sleep without wetting the bed. During the second night, I’d managed to stay up until 1 a.m., but I had found it impossible to make myself pee. I simply hadn’t had enough to drink. I had considered simply pouring water on my bed, but I was worried that might not be convincing enough should my parents make a closer examination of my bedding. I could have snuck off for a glass of water in the kitchen and stayed up another hour, but again, I chickened out and pushed the plan off to another night. But tonight was going to be different. I was going to be drinking as much water as I could tonight, and I would skip going to the toilet before going to bed. Plus, tonight was Friday, which meant it was pizza night, so as long as I picked out a caffeinated soda, I should be able to keep myself up late enough for this plan to work. I realized that I was likely going to have to keep this up for multiple nights. One random night of bedwetting — after having never wet the bed since I had been potty trained at the age of two — wouldn’t be enough to convince my parents to take action. But if I could have the courage to keep it up long enough, they would have no choice but to purchase the pull-ups shown on the magazine page for me. I would make sure to leave that old magazine out in a way that would get Mom to see the advertisement. It was a desperate move, but I couldn’t wait any longer for the pull-ups. I knew from other advertisements I’d seen that these pull-ups were sold in stores. Had there been a store close by that I could bike to, I might have considered going out and purchasing some for myself on a day when I had been left at home on my own. But that wasn’t an option for me. I still had over three years to go before I would be old enough to get my own driver’s license. I had already waited three years for this. I couldn’t possibly wait three more. “Maddy. Earth to Maddy. Hey!” There was the sound of hands clapping together a single time. More laughter. I blinked rapidly, adjusting my gaze over to Mr. Thompson, where he was standing at the front of the classroom with his palms still pressed together from making the noise he had used to so rudely interrupt my daydreams. “Maddy, please just take one of the homework sheets and pass the rest behind you.” I looked straight ahead, where Chloe was holding a stack of papers with her arm stretched out toward me. She rolled her eyes at me as I grabbed them from her. In a rare moment of self-control, I did not stick my tongue out at her. I took one of the homework sheets and passed the remaining one behind me to where one of my two best friends was sitting. The three of us had initially been seated next to each other. But Mr. Thompson decided a few weeks into the school year that doing so was too much of a distraction. Emma, who had been seated to my right, was switched to the seat behind me. Angie, who had been on my left, had worse luck. Not only was she moved to the front of the class, but she had to sit next to Ryan, who had the disgusting habit of picking his nose in public. But that was OK. We’d have the whole weekend together. Tonight was the beginning of the playoffs for our U13 soccer team. We’d had a moderately successful season, meaning we’d managed to somehow win more games than we lost over the past several months. It was disappointing that the spring soccer season was so close to coming to an end, but we had the opportunity to keep it going this weekend if we could manage to string a few victories together. The bell rang as the final class of the week came to an end. Mr. Thompson belted out more instructions about the homework as I slid the piece of paper, with all its archaic symbols and equations, into my backpack. I’d just ask Angie and Emma later to see if there was something I’d missed in his instructions. I joined my two friends in the hallway. We all lived in the same neighborhood, so we rushed off to catch the bus together. They chatted excitedly about the game tonight, but I walked alongside them in silence. My thoughts were somewhere entirely else. My mind settled on the image of the pull-up I had held in my hand three years ago. The few minutes where I had examined it thoroughly, my fingers tracing over its whole surface. How it had felt to wear it for a couple of minutes before I was forced to set it aside, not knowing the opportunity was one I wouldn’t get again for years. Should everything go as planned, I would be wearing a pull-up again in less than a week. But to accomplish that, I needed to wet the bed tonight – on purpose. <><><> Three years ago If there was a single moment that perhaps best defined the last three years of my life, it was that day three years ago when it all began. The day I first laid eyes on a simple object that would become an obsession I would never be able to shake off. I didn’t cry at the funeral. I knew, intellectually, that this was what people were supposed to do. But even the sight of my aged great-grandfather lying in the open casket hadn’t moved me to tears. It wasn’t as though I wasn’t sad, but it was a more abstract kind of sadness. That kind that has someone thinking heavy thoughts about what happens after death, not that kind that leaves someone bawling on their knees. I had no memories of the man lying in the casket. My parents said I had met my great-grandfather three times. But I had been too young to have any memories of those visits. My older sister, Grace, on the other hand, was devastated. It was her first funeral as well. She had memories of her great-grandfather. The man in the casket was not an abstract concept to her, but the ghost of someone who had played with her and held her in his arms. Jackson cried as well, but that was just because he was a baby. You could never exactly tell what it was that they were upset about most of the time. The three-year-old boy likely just needed a nap. But the funeral home wasn’t where that pivotal event in my life transpired; it was merely marked the event that gave cause for all my distant relations – grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins – to join together from where they were all scattered across the country. The reception after the funeral was where the fateful moment occurred. The adults ate, drank, and smoked while kids split into playing games with others of their age. There was a cohort of preschoolers huddled around a TV, watching stupid kids’ shows. On the other end of the spectrum was a collection of angsty teenagers Grace had abandoned me to hang out with. They weren’t particularly welcoming of youngsters, and my normally friendly sister had shooed me off after I attempted to tag along with her. Not that I cared that much. Other than my sister, teenagers made me a bit apprehensive. Besides, there were a half-dozen other kids my age to hang out with. My mom introduced me to two boys shortly after we arrived at the house for the reception. One of them, Alex, was eight. Though he made clear he would be nine in a few weeks, which would make him as old as me. His younger brother, Timothy, was seven. The boys were distant cousins from half-way across the country. There was some technical term Mom used for exactly what type of cousin they were to me — second cousins, twice removed. That didn’t mean anything to me. All that mattered was that they were my age and more than open to finding some way to play in order to pass the time while the adults did whatever adults did. We hit it off immediately. We did what kids that age normally do. We fell into the habit of playing simple games with each other as if we had been friends all of our lives. The two brothers were staying at the house where the reception was being hosted, so it was only fair that they gave me a tour of the massive building. We explored the expansive backyard, winding our way through the adults in the garden until we were shooed away. We played in the basement for a while, which had foosball and ping-pong tables before the teens decided that was where they wanted to be hanging out instead. But there was still plenty of house to explore. Alex and Timothy led me up a winding staircase to some rooms upstairs, where they had been sleeping while their family stayed with the relatives who were hosting the reception. That’s when I stumbled across a stunning revelation. One that would shape my life for the next three years. Haunt my dreams. Hound my thoughts. Practically drive me crazy as I was often left incapable of thinking of anything else. There was something out-of-place sitting in the corner of the room on top of a pile of discarded laundry. I tended to usually say the first thing that came to mind without regard to whether it was socially appropriate to do so. I wasn’t any better at that at the age of nine. I pointed at a blue undergarment in the corner that didn’t exactly look like a normal piece of underwear. It was not as though I didn’t have a good suspicion of what it was. But I wanted confirmation. “What is that?” Timothy walked casually over to the corner and picked it up. “Oh, that’s my pull-up.” I looked at the item in his hand. He was seven. That couldn’t possibly be his. I felt sure I was the subject of some kind of joke. “Don’t be silly,” I said. “You’re too old to wear pull-ups.” “Older kids sometimes need to wear pull-ups,” he said, still holding the item in his hand. His defiance left me no less confused. I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that even fits you.” I hadn’t intended in any way to dare them to put the pull-up on. But that must be how that statement had come across. Alex snatched the pull-up out of his brother’s hand and tugged it on over his dress pants. “See,” he said. “It fits. We wear them ’cause we still wet the bed.” They were bedwetters. And they weren’t the least bit ashamed of it. That was at least a topic that I understood. I had no intention of teasing or bullying them. While neither my brother nor I were bedwetters, my older sister had wet the bed up until a year or so ago. Why hadn’t I put together a connection between pull-ups and bedwetting? Come to think of it. I wasn’t even sure if Grace had worn pull-ups during her bedwetting phase. She had her own room, which I was very much forbidden from going into, so if she had, there wasn’t any way I would have known about it. When I had first learned of my older sister’s predicament, my parents had sat down with me and calmly explained what bedwetting was and how I was to never shame or tease her about it. And given how privately they had handled her condition, and the fact that it hadn’t ever impacted my life at all, I truthfully hadn’t ever given her bedwetting much of a thought. Alex mistook my pensiveness while considering my sister’s bedwetting to mean that I was still confused about the topic. He launched into a long explanation with words like enuresis, explaining how bedwetting was just a medical condition that he and his brother would grow out of. “Do you wet the bed?” Timothy asked me. “No,” I replied. I came close to continuing my reply and accidentally outing my sister, but I would never do something that mean to her. Alex still had the pull-up around his waist, completely unconcerned with how silly it looked. The pull-up had a picture of Spiderman, my favorite superhero, on the front. I pointed that out, which led to another conversation about which Marvel superheroes we liked best. Timothy was big on Iron Man. But Alex insisted that Batman was better than any of them. My eyes kept glancing down at Alex’s waist. I found myself unable to look away from the pull-up for long. The sight of the pull-up around Alex’s waist raised another thought. That pull-up would fit me just as well. My distant cousin and I were both about the same size, after all. I didn’t question the desire to wear the pull-up. Once the impulse had taken hold of me, there was little else I could think of as I distractedly continued the conversation with my cousins. Our parents called us down for dinner. Alex ripped the pull-up off and tossed it back in the corner of the room before we retreated down the stairs. I was unable to concentrate during dinner. Alex and Timothy were across the table from me, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut about what I had just witnessed. I was filled to the brim with questions, most of which I would have to keep inside unless I were presented with another chance to have a private discussion with those two bedwetting cousins. But there was one question more important than any of them. One perhaps best answered on my own rather than by asking them. What did it feel like to wear a pull-up? While the adults were content to sit and chat around at the table long after their plates were clean, that wasn’t the case for us kids, and soon we were back to running around; Timothy, Alex, and I were joined by another four cousins. Big houses and hide and seek go hand in hand together. We agreed that hiding upstairs in the house was against the rules for the game of hide and seek. That meant that the upstairs room where the pull-ups were waiting for me was technically off-limits. But I didn’t care one bit about the game. Anyway, making the upstairs rooms off-limits had been my idea. An absolutely brilliant stroke of genius for a then nine-year-old girl. In one move, I’d ensured that no one would be up there when I went looking for the pull-up and that I would be safe from anyone following after me. I took quick glances in both directions as I stood at the base of the stairway. Perfect. There were no other kids in sight. I leaped up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time with each upward lunge until I was safely around the corner and out of sight. I encountered my first problem when I made it to the bedroom where Timothy and Alex had been sleeping. I had somehow assumed that the pull-up Alex had ripped off could be fixed. I seemed to recall that the pull-ups my brother had worn a year ago had Velcro sides. But that wasn’t the case with these bedwetting pull-ups for some reason. But there had to be additional pull-ups elsewhere. There couldn’t be any way that the boy’s parents would risk them peeing all over the bed while they were spending the night as guests. I didn’t have any luck in the first suitcase that I looked through, nor the second, but the third one was where I struck gold. There were more than a dozen pull-ups tucked into the side of the suitcase. Surely, they wouldn’t notice if one of them happened to go missing. I grabbed a pull-up and bundled the pull-up into a ball, tucking it into the waistband of my skirt. I was sure that was not nearly as discreet as I thought it was at the time. But, to my good fortune, I was able to make it to a nearby bathroom without being caught. The adults were busy downstairs, and my cousins, who were playing hide and seek, were doing a better job than I was at abiding by the rules. I locked the bathroom door behind me. I double and triple-checked to make sure the door was actually locked. I removed the pull-up from under my skirt and held it in my hands. I didn’t stop then to think through how bizarre the whole situation was at the time. I think I must have stood there looking at it for several minutes. Feeling how it crinkled beneath my touch, testing out the sides to see how far they could stretch, rubbing my fingers down the padded interior. I was completely and utterly fascinated by it. The desire was no more explainable than a moth being drawn to a flame, a kitten to catnip, or a raven to a shiny object. I cautiously slid my arms through the leg holes, stretching the pull-up out in front of me. Not only was it more than stretchy enough for me, but it could probably fit a kid twice as wide as I was. Now came the moment of truth. I removed my skirt and underwear. The pull-up had a side that was helpfully labeled as the back, so I knew which way to put it on. As I brought the pull-up into place around my waist, it was like sliding the final piece of a puzzle into place. I turned around so that I could look at my reflection in the mirror. I lifted up the front of my skirt so that the whole pull-up was in view. It practically came up all the way to my belly button. There was something about the way it hugged my sides, the way the soft padding pressed against my skin as I sat down on the toilet lid and the way it crinkled quietly as I paced across the bathroom that left me completely enamored. There was just one thing left to do. And I didn’t have much time before everyone noticed that I was missing. I lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and sat down while still wearing the pull-up. One of my deepest regrets was that I had went to go potty right before the game of hide and seek began, meaning there wasn’t anything waiting to come out of my bladder at the moment. I tried. I really did. I wanted to know. I had to know. What would it feel like to pee into a pull-up? It couldn’t be bad. Alex and Timothy hadn’t seemed to be put off at all by waking up in a wet pull-up every morning. But nothing happened. The timing was off. My bladder wouldn’t cooperate. And time was up. I needed to be out of the bathroom in a couple of minutes. I considered it a radical idea. What if I put my underwear and skirt over the top of the pull-up? I could continue to wear it until I actually needed to pee. I nearly did it. I really, truly, honestly nearly did it. But then I chickened out. The same way I would, time and time again for years afterward. It was too risky. A small trickle of shame was diluting my euphoria. I knew that despite how ecstatic I was at my discovery, the reality of anyone else discovering this secret — and the relentless shame and teasing that would follow — would be devastating. I wasn’t like Alex or Timothy. I didn’t have the veneer of bedwetting to hide behind as an excuse for wearing a pull-up. I slid the pull-up off of my legs. I intended to put it back in the suitcase. Then it would be like nothing had ever happened. That’s when I encountered a second problem. Apparently, I had gone potty in the pull-up after all. Not a lot, just the teensiest of tinkles. But it was enough to leave a tiny yellow patch the size of a quarter smack dab in the middle of the pull-up. I breathed a sigh of relief that I had even noticed it in the first place. That would have made for an awkward situation for Alex and Timothy had I put the pull-up back in the suitcase. I peered into the trash can. I was in luck. I could make out two pull-ups at the bottom of the small trash can. One had been turned inside out, the color of its interior leaving no doubt as to the truthfulness of Alex’s description of his and his brother’s bedwetting. I bunched up the pull-up and tossed it in the trash can. I didn’t think it was likely that anyone would be paying too much attention to notice the addition of one more pull-up in it. My curiosity sated, I returned to the game of hide and seek, pretending that I had been expertly moving in between hiding places to avoid being spotted. I didn’t think anymore about the pull-up until later that evening when we were lying in bed at the hotel. Jackson was little enough that he could sleep on a padded mat and sleeping bag on the floor while Grace and I shared a bed – an experience that hadn’t gone well the past couple of nights, as it had been interrupted by midnight accusation of blanket theft. If it had just been Grace and me in the room, if Mom, Dad, and Jackson hadn’t been around to overhear it, I might have worked up the courage to ask my older sister about her bedwetting. I wasn’t even sure if she knew that I knew about it. But I had to know. Had she worn the same pull-ups as Alex and Timothy? Was there perhaps a style that came in colors and designs for girls? But we weren’t alone, and those questions went unasked. The drive home wasn’t any easier. I didn’t touch my tablet, which had been my constant companion on the trip here. Instead, I stared out the window. But I wasn’t paying any attention to the passing cities and landscapes. Instead, my mind was replaying the events of the previous day, in particular, the few precious minutes when I had my hands on the pull-up. I was filled with a deep sense of longing and regret. Why had I thrown the pull-up in the trash? Why hadn’t I put it back on beneath my skirt? I would have had it with me now. I could have been wearing it now. Of course, I did know better. I would have had no issue wearing the pull-up out of the house, but once we had gotten to the hotel, there wouldn’t have been any realistic way for me to have kept it concealed. But the acknowledgment of that reality did nothing to lessen my longing for the pull-up. I had nothing but time as I began to scheme up all the different ways I could get my hands on another one, or better yet, an actual diaper. What would I have done if I had known the wait was to be measured in years rather than days, weeks, or months? --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/
  3. Grace was 4'9" and only weighed 90 lbs. She was 30 years old. She had brown hair and brown eyes. She was married to her wife for 10 years now as they got married young. They found out early on thay they could not have kids. Grace had a little secret she never told her wife. She was an abdl baby girl. She liked to be treated like a 18 month old babygirl. She liked to wear diapers and use them. She didn't plan on telling her wife anytime soon as she was scared of what she would think. Grace had a box of little stuff. Diapers in her size but baby style, wipes, baby powder, baby toys, adult pacifier and bottle, baby clothes like dresses, diaper covers with ruffles, onesies, shortalls with snaps at the crotch, rompers, bonnets, even locking mittens and baby booties. All in her size. She had it hidden in the guest room closet where her wife never went. She worked from home while her wife didn't. So she tended to use some of the time her wife was at work to be a baby. Grace had to go to a work training today in person for the first time in a long time. It was her wife's day off tho. Little did she know her wife planned to clean the guest room today. Grace was dressed for work and went over to her wife and kissed her on the cheek. She said, "bye babe I am heading to work."
  4. This will be my first story that I have written on DailyDiapers. I don't consider myself a writer and most of my writing experience over the last ten years has been scientific papers. I welcome any constructive criticism and feedback to make the story better. This story is something that I have been thinking about writing for around a year and I think I have all of the major plot points down with an ending planned and epilogue. I don't know exactly how long this story will be but it will be a novel length. I plan on averaging a chapter a week at this point. The story will center around our main character William Gauss, who is an applied math graduate student at Arizona State University. The story is centered around an illness that Will gets in the beginning. This story will be a slow burn in the beginning, as far as ABDL content goes, but if you stick with the story, our main character will be in the deep in of diapers soon enough. Since I am new to writing, I did base all my characters off of people in my life but all the names and relationship types are changed. I also am trying to make this story as realistic as possible, so I will use real places in the US. I plan to draw a lot from my own experiences for this story, but I have never lived in the places or attended the universities in this story. The only science fiction of this story will be Will's illness, but I will do my best to make it as realistic as possible from a medical standpoint. Saving Grace Chapter One I leaned back into my chair, stretching my arms above my head. It was getting close to 5 pm and after a long afternoon of grading 60 calculus II student's homework, I had finally finished for the day. Shutting my eyes for a second, I contemplated the lowly life of an applied mathematics Ph.D. student and Teaching Assistant. Don't get me wrong, I love the classes I am taking, and I discovered that I love teaching the calculus recitation classes and working at the tutoring center. Even my students tell me that I make a great teacher. But out of all my responsibilities, there is one thing that I have the hardest time motivating myself to do; grading 4 to 8 hours a week. With 60 students, it can be very mind-numbing. I open my eyes and look around my small office. I share this office with two other Ph.D. students, but unlike them, I use our office. They like to do most of their work at home if they can and I usually only see them briefly a few times a week. Not that I don't mind, it's nice to pretty much have my own office. I shut my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack and grabbed my bike that was leaning against the wall opposite of my desk. Opening my office door and pushing my bike out, I turn around and lock my door for the day. Pushing my bike down the corridor, I make my way to the elevator. As I get halfway there I hear someone behind me shout out, ``Hey Will.'' I turn around to see it is one of my friends and fellow grad students Steven walking down the corridor toward me. Steven is a guy of average height, maybe a little shorter, with an average build. He has shaggy black hair, a full beard that is kept neat and trimmed, and brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. We have been friends since starting at Arizona State University almost two years ago. We met at in-service week, the week before classes started. As he made his way to me, I said, "What's up, Steven.'' "Getting ready to leave for the day; have you started on the Abstract Algebra homework yet? I am stuck on the proof dealing with factor rings,'' Steven told me. I said, "I started all the proofs for each problem but have not really delved into trying to solve them yet. I plan on spending a few hours tomorrow trying to get the homework done.'' "Cool, hit me up tomorrow when you get done with classes and we can meet up and work on the homework together,'' he said. "Will do, I will shoot you a text when I am walking out of my last class tomorrow. See you tomorrow.'' I made my way to the elevator and hit the call button. The doors open up to reveal no one inside, so I push my bike into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. After a short ride, the doors open up and I push my bike towards the exit. Hitting the handicap button by one of the exit doors. I push my bike through the exit and say a silent prayer to myself, thanking God for the Americans with Disabilities Act, or it would be a hassle getting my bike in and out of the building. Walking out of the Wexler Building, the eight-story building that has been my home during the day since moving here, I push my bike to the end of the sidewalk. I hop on my bike and begin my two-mile daily commute to my apartment just off campus. It is early March and even though I am in the desert climate of Tempe, Arizona, just outside Phoenix. The temperature can still get chilly and thankfully, I have my hoodie on to protect me from the slight chill in the air on my bike ride home. As I am riding my bike through campus, I think to myself how different Arizona is compared to my home state of Georgia. The place I called home until moving here a little over 18 months ago. The high temperatures never bothered me too much because of the lack of humidity, but the lack of humidity did take me some time to get used to. I definitely had to start using lotion and lip balm regularly to keep my skin from peeling off my body. Looking off into the distance, I can make out one of the sights that make me love this place, the mountains that surround a third of the city. After a short 10-minute bike ride, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, passing by my parked silver 2011 Toyota 4-runner that I rarely drive during the week. My apartment building is a two-story building, with a stucco exterior with multiple light colors adorning the walls. I hop off my bike at one of the stairwells that lead to my apartment on the second floor. Hoisting my bike over one of my shoulders, I make my way up the stairs and down the catwalk that runs along the front doors to all the apartments. Standing at the door of my home, I unlock the door and push my bike inside. Walking into my one-bedroom apartment, I lean my bike against one of the chairs of my dining room table. My home is not the most luxurious, but as a single student in my twenties, I made it a very cozy place for me. Furnish by mostly thrift stores and use items off Facebook. The main open floor plan of my apartment has a desk on one side of the front door facing the window, made using two old filing cabinets with a one-inch thick piece of stained hardwood to form the top of the desk. Beside my desk is a large whiteboard mounted on the wall for writing reminders and working on homework. My office area is complete with a nice leather chair. Beside my office area is my living room area complete with a cloth couch with two end tables on either side with lamps and family pictures on top of the tables. In front of my couch is a nice used area rug with a hardwood coffee table stained a dark brown. On the wall opposite my desk is my large flat-screen TV. mounted on the wall itself. On the other side of my front door is the dining area with a white wooden table and four white chairs with wicker seats. The kitchen area consists of a large island with a stove in its center, and cabinets below the counter, and a breakfast bar on the other side. There are three hanging light fixtures above the island. Running along the wall are floor-to-ceiling cabinets with counters and a sink, dishwasher, and refrigerator. The walls are painted off-white with an accent light green painted on the kitchen wall and island. The floors are a composite light wood pattern that runs throughout the apartment. There is an alcove behind the kitchen that leads to the bathroom and the bedroom. I kick my shoes off by the door and I am greeted with the smell of pot roast that has been cooking in the crock-pot all day while I was at school. I walk through the kitchen into my bedroom. My bedroom consists of a queen-sized bed in its center with a nightstand on one side with a lamp and my wireless phone charger sitting on top. To my right is a large dresser with a lamp and a middle-size flat-screen TV. on top. All the furniture is made of hardwood and stained dark brown to match. Beside the doorway is a closet that runs the length of the wall with large light green sliding doors. Tucked away on one side of the closet is a washer/dryer combo. Walking to my dresser, I pull out one of the drawers to grab a pair of gray sweats and a white tee shirt. I strip my clothes off from the day and throw them into the hamper beside my dresser. Quickly slipping on my sweats and tee shirt, I can now put the long day behind me. Walking back into my kitchen, I take a small pot from one of the cabinets by my stove and set it on the stovetop. Turning around I reach into my pantry cabinet and grab the half-empty large bag of white rice. Turning the stove on, I mix enough rice and water into the pot to make 4 cups of rice. With twenty minutes to spare, I walk over and collapse on the couch, and grab the remote to turn on Netflix. Flipping through Netflix for about 10 minutes, I could not make up my mind and decided to re-watch Taylor Thomson's latest special. A few minutes into the show, my rice is now done and I get a bowl out of the cabinet by the sink and a fork out of the drawer next to the sink. I serve myself half the cooked rice and take the lid off my crock pot to ladle in a big helping of pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I sit back down on my couch with my dinner and a can of sparkling water and continue watching my show. I take a bite and savor the flavor of the roast and how tender it is after slow cooking all day. I may not be a chef, but when I set my mind to it, I can always put together a good home-cooked meal. After finishing the bowl and taking a few sips from my beverage, I decide on seconds and finish off the rest of the rice with another helping out of the crock-pot. With my stomach full and my show wrapping up, I go to the sink to rinse out my bowl, and the pot and load them into the dishwasher. Turning my attention to my pot roast, I slid the pot with the lid out of the crock-pot and set it into the refrigerator to heat up and eat off later this week. With it only being 8 pm I lay back down on the couch and turn on Shane Gillis' latest special. As I lay there watching t.v., I notice that I am getting tired and having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I think to myself, that the day must have taken more out of me than I thought. Deciding to call it an early day, I turn off the TV, throwing the now empty can in the trash, and walk into my bathroom to get ready for bed. Walking into my small bathroom, with a small white vanity with a sink and a cabinet mounted on the wall above with a built-in mirror, a toilet right beside it, and a bathtub/shower along the wall opposite the door. The bathroom is completed with white walls and light brown tile for flooring. I look into the mirror and see a young man looking back. I am tall, at 6 feet even, with a slim build. I have dark brown hair, a full beard that is kept neatly trimmed, and hazel eyes that seem to change from an almost brown to an almost green color depending on the lighting. I begin my short nightly routine by brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with mouthwash. After spitting a couple of mouthfuls of water from the sink faucet, I look back into the mirror, taking note that my hair is starting to get shaggy. I make a mental note to get a haircut this weekend. I take a pit-stop over to the toilet to empty my bladder and with a quick wash of my hands I move towards my bedroom. Crawling into bed under the covers, I set my alarm for the morning, noting that it was only 9:30 pm, and set it on the charger. Turning over in bed it only takes me a few minutes to succumb to sleep. I wake in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, with the immediate need to throw up and throw up now! I bolt from my bed and rush to the bathroom. I make it over the toilet just in time to projectile vomit all over the bowl. My stomach is twisted in knots and feels like it is turning inside out as I throw up the contents of my stomach. When I finally stopped, I took some toilet paper to wipe my mouth with and flushed the toilet. Before the toilet could finish flushing, I was hit with another immediate need. I need to poop and I need to poop now! Turning around and jerking my sweat pants and boxer briefs down, I plant my butt on the toilet seat in time for a massive wave of semi-solid poop to exit my rear. After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I can finally take stock of what is going on. I notice that all my joints ache and I feel like I am coming down with either the flu or a stomach virus. After wiping, I turn around to flush and notice that I pooped a lot. The amount suggests that I have not gone in a few days, even though I had a normal bowel movement the morning before like I do every morning. Stepping over to the sink I wash my hands and wash my mouth out with mouthwash. I step into the kitchen and grab a glass of water to sip on. I walk back to my bedroom with the glass of water. Looking at my phone, the time is shortly after 1 am. I hope to myself that I feel better by tomorrow morning. I crawl back into bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I pass out. Waking again, I notice that it is still dark outside and I feel nauseous and I have to poop again. I jump out of bed, run to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet to have my bowels explode into the toilet. As I sit there, I get more nauseated and I have to lean over to the bathtub to throw up what consists of stomach bile into it. Again, my joints ache, and I now have a headache to add to the list. I sit for a moment to collect myself. I wipe, flush, and rinse the tub out. I go to the sink to wash my hands and mouth out and go back to bed. As I am lying in bed, I think to myself that I am glad I don't have any teaching responsibilities tomorrow, I will definitely need to stay home from school. No less than 5 minutes later I fall back to sleep.
  5. 21-year-old Jillian Jenners is down on her luck and accepts her younger twin sister Jennifer's invitation to stay with her at her cozy three-bedroom apartment in Philadelphia. Having just finished college and earned her degree, Jillian is still jobless and desperate to find a new start in her life. When Jillian begins to have her nighttime accidents, she turns to diapers as a solution to her embarrassing problem. A new opportunity presents itself when Jillian discovers the world of streaming and begins to build a sizable following. When a "wardrobe malfunction" happens during one of her streams, it further boosts her fame in the streaming community. Does Jillian keep wearing diapers to please her fans, or does she stop altogether? And what part does her twin sister Jennifer have in this whole story? Find out in this original tale of discovery, acceptance, and, of course, diapers. Foreward: The JJ Diaper Twins - How it all Started Hi! First of all, thank you very much for purchasing our book! I am Jillian Jenners (but you knew that already!). I am sure that you are all very much aware of me and my sister Jen. Whether you stumbled across our YouTube channel, our Tiktok, found us on Instagram, our Facebook page, X (twitter), JustForFans, or happened to catch one of our many exciting Twitch streams, you all know us as the JJ Diaper Twins. The two J’s consist of me, Jillian Jenners and of course my identical twin sister Jennifer Jenners. We are basically diapered celebrities and have even caught attention of the mainstream media. But how did it all start? That is just what this book is going to tell you. Consider this book as a biography of the lives of me and my twin sister getting our exciting start in the city of brotherly love: Philadelphia. Home of those delicious cheesesteaks, tastykakes, and tomato pies. My aim for this book is to very clearly tell all of you my story and how the JJ Diaper Twins even became a thing in the first place. Now, I am sure that some of you will want to come and bother us with requests to be our caregivers. Just to be up front, both I and Jen are already taken. We will take no requests, but feel free to support us on our Crowdfunder (the very reason why this book exists) or buy our branded pacifiers, bottles, bibs, blankets, stuffys, and clothing made for every one of you JJ Littles. We have footed sleepers, onesies, cute frilly dresses and skirts, shortalls, socks, changing mats, plastic pants, and even our very own line of diapers coming very soon! The JJ Cozy Crinklez (coming soon!) will be the comfiest, most absorbent diaper on the ABDL market. We assure you that these diapers are able to handle the most destructive floods that you can unleash on them. My sister and I agree that these diapers are the best ones that we have ever worn (and believe me, we have tried them all!). Keep supporting us through your donations as each donation helps to keep the cost of these diapers affordable and competitive with the other brands. We are working on getting proper supply channels so that you won’t be waiting too long for your next exciting order. The JJ Nighty Nites are just a little more absorbent and can handle the heaviest of your overnight super soakings. Jen and I have tried them a number of times before bed and we both agree that there has yet to be a leaky diaper. We are both excited to bring this new addition to our J&J Merchandise. We are also working on a documentary and our first show on CuriosityStream, so be on the lookout for that. Why CuriosityStream? This platform will grant us greater freedom to tell our story to all of you JJ Littles, without the restrictions that YouTube would place on us. Besides our current projects, I will get back to the most current project that we have just recently completed: this book. Both Jen and I would like to thank you for all your help and support for without it, we wouldn’t be the JJ Diaper Twins that you know and love today. Now, how will this book be structured? To get the full story, both Jen and I have devoted sections to this book to each tell our own story of how this all started. It’s a crazy story, but every bit of it is true. My story will be told first in “Jillian’s Story” so I would recommend starting with that one. Following that one will be “Jennifer’s Story” and everything there will be told from her point of view. The next section of this book will contain a thank you message from my twin sister, so don’t forget to read that before you get to the table of contents! This whole book has been a labor of love and we devote this book to every one of you who purchased it. So to all my JJ Littles out there, stay diapered! Live full, laugh long, play strong! Love You Always, Jillian Jenners July 21, 2028 Foreward: A Very Special Thankies to All of You! Hi hi everyone! I’m sure that you have all read my twin sister’s previous section. Knowing (and trusting) that you have, you know that we are both very excited that you have picked up this book to hear the full story of how Jill and I became the JJ Diaper Twins that you know and love today. So thankies very muchies for all your help and support! Prior to my sister Jill’s meteoric rise to fame, I was a CPA working at one of the leading CPA firms in Philadelphia: Conway, Phillips, & Associates. Prior to Jill’s fame, I provided her with a place to stay at my apartment. You all know the rest of the story, but the purpose of this book is to fill in all of those details in between my sister’s anonymity and our now shared fame that is celebrated by all the JJ Littles. I will be honest, everyone. I at first was hesitant to follow in my sister’s footsteps. Due to the stigma of this kind of lifestyle, I wasn’t at all comfortable to join my sister in all the facets of her lifestyle of infantilism. But after seeing all the benefits that she reaped and seeing the endless stress and anxiety that came from the continual demands of my CPA firm, the initial experience that I had with diapers proved cathartic to me. How did I go from my insistent reluctance to join my sister to combining with my sister to become one of the biggest names in the ABDL community? That is the purpose of this book. I will not reveal anymore, as you will have to read my side of the story (Jennifer’s Story) to get all of the replete details recounting the genesis of the protection that “changed” my life. I will be honest again. As a result of taking that padded red pill, it has cost me relationships that I will never be able to rekindle again. But as a result, I have a wonderful and supportive community of the most caring and loving people that I have ever met. At every meet and greet, you all have never ceased to amaze me with your kindness and support. My sister has already detailed you on our future projects, so that redundancy will be avoided here. Just know that we have both mutually discussed every project together and I (thanks to my stellar financial background) have reviewed everything financially before moving forward with each project. Each project benefits all of you, and is FOR every one of you lovely littles. As is this book that you are now holding. Consider this miniature tome a passion project conceived by both I and my twin sister (who I love with all my heart) Jill. We want to share with you the story on how we both became the JJ Diaper Twins. How we can now wear our diapers proudly everyday and help out our ever-growing family of JJ Littles. To satiate your curiosity, yes. Both Jill and I are fully diaper dependent now with no sign of ever returning to urinary or fecal continence. Also (as she already told you), we already both have wonderful caregivers that are sweet and wonderful to both of us. With that knowledge in your possession, please refrain from making any solicitations to be our caregivers. You are all a wonderful community and neither of us could’ve ever made it this far without all of you. To address the needs of both Little and Caregiver alike, my sister and I are in the process of creating a network to match you JJ Littles to a wonderful caregiver that will care for all of your needs. We want it to be a good system so we are taking our time on it. Please be patient. Whether you’re the little or the caregiver. Please be patient. Again I would like to say thankies very muchies to all of you! The movement that my sister started has allowed me to discover and fully embrace my inner little. A side of me that I prefer to keep mostly private, but for your sake show it every now and then. Remember. Littlespace is nothing to be ashamed of. It is therapy for every one of us to escape from the overwhelming difficulties and challenges of everyday life. Love every moment of that littlespace, but take care of those adult things that need to get done (ESPECIALLY if you don’t have a caregiver!) Well, my sister and I need to get this final draft to the publisher so all of you can see our curious and interesting tale from full anonymity to full blown ABDL stardom. It’s surprising, embarrassing, exciting, and rewarding. This experience has taught me so much, and I hope that it will teach all of you as well. I will close with the closing that both Jill and I use to close out our Twitch Streams that served as a foundation of Jill’s career: Live full, laugh long, play strong! Stay diapered, all you JJ Little besties! Love You All Sincerely, Jennifer Jenners July 21, 2028 I. Jillian's Story Chapter 1 : Down on my Luck Hi! I know that all of you already know who I am, but here it goes. In case any of you just skipped the introduction or for some reason have not heard of me yet, I will tell you again. My name is Jillian Marie Jenners. And before you’re left wondering, yes. The same Jillian Jenners that’s part of the Jenners Twins, or the nickname that’s more familiar in the community: the JJ Diaper Twins. I’m the one “J” and my twin sister Jennifer is the other “J”. We are identical twins, but we couldn’t be anymore different! Yes, we shared the same egg and womb at birth, but that is where the similarities end. And to address your comments on the tabloids and fake news, don’t believe any of the fake stories that the media conjures about us. None of it is true (as I’m sure that all of you already know). Their agenda is solely there to silence us and our cause. A cause that they for some reason see as a threat to their agenda. What? Do they not want us to share the spotlight with the other celebrities? It’s clear that the Hollywood Elites write all the rules of who stays and who goes in Hollywood and it’s very clear to them that a pair of ABDL twins are not allowed to have any of the spotlight as they want it all to themselves. What gives them the audacity to try to silence or cancel emerging icons representing a cause that they don’t even understand? They don’t want to, so they’ll make up fake stories to keep us from becoming stars. Well you know what, Hollywood? Your attempts are not working. Our movement is stronger than ever, and it’s about to tear down the walls of your Elitest club of yours. But anyway, I digress. Now for the most intense burning question that any of you ever gave me. And believe me. I hear this one every time when I stream with my twin to this day: “How did you and Jenny become the JJ Diaper Twins?” I get this question every single stream. Every. Single. Stream. Well, question no more my fellow JJ Little Besties! I am about to tell you everything. How my life was changed forever. How my sister’s video game console launched my career. How an embarrassing accident and mishap during a stream transformed my career. All of you are responsible for making my career the success that it is, and I thank every one of you. Now after I tell you everything, please help the mods in answering the question. All of you will have the answer now, and you’ll be able to share it with every person that doesn’t know about this story yet. So, you wanna know how Jillian Jenners (that’s ME!) went from a nobody to a big YouTuber and streaming celebrity? Hang on to your diapys (and make sure it’s a fresh one) and listen to my story. This is my humble beginning and I hope that it can inspire you from wherever you are to achieve your dreams and aim for the very best. How did I get into wearing diapers in the first place? To answer that question, we have to go all the way back to June of 2023. Yes. Five years to get to the very beginning. I was a fresh college graduate from Cleveland State University while my twin sister chose Penn State to get her Master’s Degree in Accounting and earn her CPA. Yes, we went to different schools. As I said earlier, we may be identical but we couldn’t be more different! It was only one month since I graduated. But since my sister was in an accelerated program (that, and she used all her free time to take extra classes), she graduated one year ahead of me and went on to earn her CPA license. She just celebrated her fourth month at Conway, Phillips, & Associates (one of the leading accounting firms in Philadelphia where she lives now). What was I doing? I was starving. My emergency fund was starting to dry up. My sister’s numerous scholarships (plus her firm paying for her Masters Degree while she interned there) got her a full ride through all of her college education. On the other hand, I was sacked with debt from the Bachelor’s of Science Degree in Communication that was doing nothing for me at the time. And my parents couldn’t help me with my schooling either since my sister and I came from a poor family. I mean, $145,000 in college debt? Everyone, all I did was cry that entire month after I graduated. Failed interview after failed interview. My grades were really good, but the market was competitive. Who would hire me as a news anchor when so many other candidates had better qualifications than me? Wasn’t the news station that I interned at in Cleveland good enough for all of you? Well laugh it up, because my sister and I are making more than all of you now! Five figures? Try seven! But seriously. The economic times were really tough in 2023 (and they still are now in 2028). After spending a solid month of dried-up job leads, failed interviews, and zero job offers, I drowned my sorrows with a pint of Mint Chocolate chip ice cream. It was my guilty pleasure, but the refreshing mint at least tried to sweeten my rotten month of failed prospects. I was crying in the kitchen halfway through my pity pint of minty goodness. “You still crying, Jill pill?” My roommate Natasha asked me. What else could I do? Everything that I tried led to a dead end. And now, I was about to run out of money… “Yes, I’m still crying!” I told her. “You would be too if you had over $100,000 in unpaid college debt and no job prospects…” Natasha placed her hand on my shoulder. I didn’t know why she did this, as it DEFINITELY didn’t make things any better. “Jill? I know that you’re going through a rough patch right now. I know that I can’t do much to help you, but do you have anyone else that can help?” I sighed as I repeated the question in my mind over and over. “Well, I know that my parents can’t help me,” I told her matter-of-factly. “I already told you that they’re poor. My sister on the other hand is in Philly, rolling in money from her CPA job…” “Just ask your sister!” Natasha told me. I ignored her and dug up another generous scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I shoved the heaping spoonful into my mouth in my futile attempt to numb the pain of my miserable existence. Why did I ever go to school to be a news anchor? Who would ever want to hear a loser like me? Besides, most of the candidates that got the job were men. So much for gender equality… The explosion of sweet mintiness filled my mouth and I quickly swallowed it. “My sister?” I said in a forlorn sigh. “She’s got her own life now! What would she want with me?” That’s when I heard a knock at the door. “Miss Jenners!” the voice boomed, sounding like a crotchety old lady. It was the landlady. My rent was due. Aw shoot! I thought I already paid it! I KNOW I did last month! “Your rent is due, miss!” the voice repeated. “$950! Do you have it?” I opened the door and sighed. “Mrs. Steinbeck, just one second…” I woke up my cell phone and opened my banking app. I checked the balance and my heart sank. $20.89. I only had $20.89 in my account! “Well, I do have $20.89…” I told the landlady, my sheepish voice beginning to choke. The landlady shook her head. “Cash dear. I need it all in cash. You have until tomorrow night to give me the money. Give me it or you will be evicted. I will seize all your property as collateral and will return it once the rent is paid in full. I WILL do this if you don’t have the rent tomorrow. Do I make myself clear, Miss Jenners?” “Crystal…” I choked. The landlady slowly but firmly closed the door. I then started crying again. Natasha looked at me and sighed. “Girl, I can give you $100, but I still need to pay for my half.” I half smiled when I heard her say “girl”. This was a Natashaism and her favorite word to use before beginning a sentence. I guess it’s more common with her being from the Dallas-Fort Worth Area of Texas. I have nothing against any of you Texans (your accent is AMAZING!). It’s just that my accent is very boring compared to yours. And Natasha’s accent was Texas Golden. I grabbed my pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream (which was now starting to turn into a melty mess) and began to shovel the next melty mouthful. Natasha opened her purse and pulled out five 20-dollar bills. She firmly placed the money in my hand and gestured me to place my spoon down. “Set your ice cream down and look at me.” Natasha said firmly. “Both eyes, Jill…” I fixed my gaze on Natasha and ran my fingers through my brown hair. Okay. I’m staring at her. What now? “And stop playing with your hair!” she ordered. “I need you to act like a proper lady.” Proper? Lady? What is this, finishing school? I let go of my hair and sighed, placing both hands to my side. “Okay. No nervous fidgets or stims. What?” Natasha smiled, happy that I have her undivided attention. “Take the money. You need it, girl…” There she goes with that “girl”, again! Even after a year of living with her, I’m still not quite used to it… “Now,” Natasha continued. “You told me that your sister is ‘rolling in money from her CPA job’…Why don’t you just ask her for help? She’s your sister and I’m sure that she would love to help you if she knew that you were in need. She seems like a pretty cool girl, too. I saw you two at graduation…” “Yeah,” I muttered. “She visited me a month ago to watch me graduate. At least my parents congratulated me over the phone…” Natasha nodded. “She seemed pretty nice, though. You’re both twins, right? You get along with her?” I slowly nodded. “Yeah. We both grew up together! Then we grew apart during college…” “But she visited you! Your sister actually cared enough to fly from Philadelphia all the way to Cleveland to watch you graduate. Girl, don’t you think she still cares?” I folded the $100 and stuffed it in my pocket of my grey jogging pants. I then shoved another now liquidy spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream in my mouth. “My sister only did that as a polite gesture,” I told her. “If she really cared, wouldn’t she check in on me now and then?” Before I could even finish saying the word “then”, my cell phone vibrated with the song “Shallow” playing. (This song was both I and my sister’s favorite song in high school) The caller ID read “Jen” with a picture of her happily smiling below it. At this moment, I totally lost it. I began crying again. Knowing that my sister has heard me cry many times, I answered the phone. “Hello?” “Are you crying again?” Jen asked me. “I just wanted to check in on you since it’s been a couple weeks now. Now what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I sighed. “I thought that you didn’t care! Didn’t you just visit me as a polite gesture?” “Aw Jill…” she said in a voice that seemed to explode with sympathy. “You know that my level of concern for you far exceeds what you may think it does. Now I visited you last month because I love my twin sister and that’s what loving sisters are supposed to do.” “Why didn’t mom and dad come to the graduation?” I asked her. “Jill, we already discussed this. They didn’t want to come to your graduation. They didn’t come to mine either. I offered to pay both times, but they refused my offer. I don’t know what they have against either of us. Despite that being the case, we have to love them back. After all, they were the ones that raised us!” I sighed. “I think it’s the money…We’ve always been poor…” “But look at us, Jill! We both have college degrees and I am now on my fourth month at an amazing accounting firm.” “So you’re just going to gloat about your new job? Jen, I thought you were going to check up on me!” Natasha gasped and left the room. I guess she wanted to give my sister and I some privacy. Thanks I guess? “Jill, I am not gloating. I am very happy about the success that I achieved. And I want you to be happy about your success too! You graduated Magna Cum Laude from Cleveland State University!” “Sis, you graduated Summa Cum Laude! A year ahead of me with a Masters that your cushy accounting firm paid for. That same firm that you interned at! And now you got a cushy job there! Meanwhile, I am having failed interview after failed interview. They are favoring men over me! I guess an anchorMAN is better than an anchorwoman, huh? I thought we were past all the sexist crap…Besides…” I lost it again and burst into tears. “Jill, you’re crying again! What is pulling you into despair?” “What is pulling me, Jen? I’ll tell you!” I raised my voice. “My landlord…um lady…knocked on the door and wanted the rent tonight. I thought that I paid it! But it looks like that I didn’t. $950! I checked my banking app. All that I had was $20.89. She didn’t want it. She wanted it all in cash. Now if I don’t give her the money tomorrow, she will evict me and seize all the belongings in my apartment. She will only return them once I pay the rent in full. So go back to your perfect life!” “Perfect? Jill, you have no idea of the tribulations that I experienced today. Work was very stressful…” “Work? It must be a lot of stress to make all that money…” I sarcastically retorted. “You’re absolutely right Jill! It is! Now, I had no idea of the financial turmoil that you’re going through. And before you reiterate your crackpot sexist theory back to me, I have the perfect rebuttal. On four out of the five local news channels that I perused, I saw women news anchors. Not men, Jill. Women! You need to come out here, Jill. The northeast is more progressive and liberal. They don’t see any glass ceiling for us. Plus, most of the CPA’s that I work with are women. There are a few men in our group, though.” “So, how do you propose I come out?” I whined. “Earth to Jen! I’m broke! I have $145,000 in college debt and owe the landlady $950. How do you expect me to come out there with a plane ticket to move to Philadelphia. And the other problem would be a place to stay. Now, where would I stay.” “Jill, you would stay with me! My apartment is a 3 bedroom. I’m not using the other two rooms for anything. They are still empty. Okay. Not quite. Just a few of my extra belongings…I will take you in. You need to get out of Cleveland!” I sighed as I looked at the Mint Chocolate chip ice cream. “Just two more problems, Jen. One: my rent. And two: a plane ticket to Philadelphia? Now my roommate had pity on me and gave me $100, but that’s not going to be enough for either expense.” “Jill, just let me help you! I will pay for your rent and your plane ticket. I will buy a round trip ticket for me and a one-way ticket for you. You’re going to get a job out here, Jilly Bean. I will be out tomorrow afternoon, with $950 to pay your landlady for another month. Sound good?” I was now crying my eyes out. I never knew that my sister could be so loving and kind! “Oh, thank you!” I joyfully weeped. “You don’t know how much this means to me…” “Oh, but I do Jill!” Jen told me. “I’m your twin sister, remember? We’re two halves of one whole. I could feel that something was wrong with you tonight before I called you. That’s a twin thing. It’s like having a best friend, only waaaaaay better…See you tomorrow! Love you!” “Love you, too.” I told her. The call ended and I wiped the rest of the remaining tears out of my eyes. I then guzzled the rest of the thick and syrupy mint chocolate chip ice cream liquid and wiped off the sticky residue with my hands. Natasha came out of her room and smiled. “I heard some of the conversation but not all of it. Now girl, look at me again…” Well, I’m in a better mood now. So okay…I looked at Natasha and stared at her. “Yes Natasha?” “I was right!” she told me. “Your twin sister really does care about you and love you! And she just proved it!” She then proceeded to pat me on the shoulder. “It looks like the good Lord is looking out for you…” I shrugged my shoulders. I guess he is…I dug into my jogging pants pocket and pulled out the $100. “Do you need this back? My sister is paying my rent tomorrow and taking me to Philadelphia to live with her.” “Keep it!” Natasha pleaded. “It’s the least that I can do in your situation. Now, are you just going to have ice cream for dinner? I can order us some food. You don’t have to pay me. I got this, girl…” I nodded. “Thanks Natasha.” The rest of the evening was okay. Natasha ordered a pizza with my favorite toppings. They happened to be her favorites, too. Either that, or she was just being nice. A supreme pizza cooked to perfection. We were both so hungry that we ate all but two slices. As I was finishing my last slice, Natasha gave me that stare again, so I stared back. “Jill,” she addressed me. “Or Jillian?” “Only my mom calls me that,” I sighed. “Jill is fine…” “Jill then…” Natasha continued. “It was very nice having you as a roommate. Granted we were busy and we didn’t see a lot of each other, but I wish you the best. I have an interview in Columbus next week and if I get the job, I’m moving down to Columbus. This apartment will be vacant again. You will have to sign a release and pay another fee to get out of your lease early. I believe that our lease doesn’t come up until August.” “I will just have my sister pay it,” I told her. “I don’t want to take advantage of her, but I’m broke right now…Oh. Good luck on that interview! I hope you get it!” Natasha smiled back at me. “Thanks Jill Pill!” “Ha…” I grinned. “I can remember a few friends in high school calling me that…” To those of you still following the story, not much more happened that evening. I shed my t-shirt and jogging pants and slept in my bra and panties. And I just…slept. Yeah. That’s it. if you think you’re going to get more information than that reader, sorry. This is my story, and I will spare some of the unnecessary details, like my snoring or anything else that you don’t need to know about. You’re probably wondering “Jillian, when are you going to get to the diapers?” Doncha worry, my little besties. I will get to how I started wearing them very soon. I just needed to get to my departure from Cleveland first. I can actually remember sleeping really well that night. I felt so happy that my sister really cared about me. But finding a job was something that I really needed to do. Now my sister TOLD me that female anchors were more common in Philadelphia. I closed my eyes and fell asleep, hoping that she was right…
  6. Chapter 1 Abby stumbled through the dense woods, following a faint trail that led her to a dilapidated house. Its wooden shutters hung loosely on rusted hinges, its roof sagging and covered in green moss. She hesitantly stepped closer, her eyes scanning the peeling paint and broken windows. Despite its appearance, the house seemed to call out to her, a glimmer of hope in the dark forest. “God what am I doing out here I know this is on the far end of the property, but I have no idea why it’s even here, it wasn’t even listed on the land plot, and I can’t find any record of this place.” Abby thought out loud. Abby's heart raced as she approached the weathered porch, its boards creaking beneath her feet. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her, its gaze piercing through the shadows of the surrounding trees. Her small frame shivered, not from the cool forest air, but from a sense of unease that crept along her spine. She reached for the tarnished doorknob, her hand trembling. As her fingers brushed against the cold metal, a whisper seemed to float on the breeze, incomprehensible yet somehow familiar. Abby froze, straining her ears to catch the sound again, but only silence greeted her. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, trying to steady her nerves. "It's just an old house. There's nothing to be afraid of." But as she turned the knob, a soft click echoing through the stillness The door swung open with a haunting creak, revealing a musty interior shrouded in shadows. Abby hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the grimy windows. Dust motes danced in the air, stirred by her entrance, and the floorboards groaned beneath her feet. She moved cautiously through the front room, her gaze sweeping over faded wallpaper and tattered furniture. An ornate mirror hung crookedly on one wall, its silver surface tarnished and clouded with age. Abby caught a glimpse of her reflection, her thin face pale and eyes wide with apprehension. As she explored further, she discovered a narrow staircase leading to the upper floor. Each step seemed to whisper secrets as she ascended, her hand trailing along the weathered banister. The upper landing stretched before her. She comes to the top and notices a bright pink door on one side of the room, she slowly walks over to it her Curiosity overwhelming her. Abby approached the bright pink door, its vibrant hue a stark contrast to the rest of the house's muted decay. Her hand hovered over the tarnished brass knob, hesitating for a moment before grasping it firmly. With a deep breath, she turned the handle and pushed the door open, wincing at the loud creak that echoed through the empty hallway. As the door swung wide, Abby's eyes widened in surprise. Before her lay a nursery, frozen in time like a faded photograph. Soft, muted light filtered through a dusty window, casting long shadows across the room. The walls, once a cheerful yellow, were now peeling and stained with age. Faded circus animals danced along a tattered border, their painted smiles eerie in the dim light. In the corner stood a white wooden crib, its paint chipped and flaking and falling off to the other side an old toy chest seemingly filled with toys and the like. She looks around but can’t find anything she would want in here, so she slowly backs out of the room and leaves the door behind her letting the room be lost to time forever. “Ok enough of that this is already creepy enough I don’t wanna be in here any long time to gtfo.” She hurries as fast as she can down the stairs and to the main room, she does one more look around before she heads out the front door closing it behind her. She stops quickly and looks around, everything around her looks different and flat. She remembers there being woods everywhere but now it’s all flat land, she quickly turns around to grab the doorknob and the door and house are gone, she’s all alone in the middle of nowhere and has no idea where she is at. Abby's heart pounded in her chest as she spun around, her eyes desperately scanning the barren landscape. Where once stood a dense forest now stretched an endless expanse of featureless, sunbaked earth. The sudden transformation of her surroundings sent her mind reeling, unable to process the impossible change. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she stumbled forward, her legs weak and unsteady. The air felt thick and oppressive, pressing down on her like a physical weight. The sky above her, once a patchwork of leaves and branches, now loomed vast and empty, a pale, sickly yellow that seemed to pulse and writhe. Panic clawed at her throat as she tried to call out for help, but her voice emerged as little more than a strangled whimper. The silence that enveloped her was absolute, broken only by the sound of her heart. As Abby's initial panic began to subside, her racing thoughts slowly coalesced into a singular, urgent realization: she needed to find shelter. The oppressive heat of the barren landscape beat down upon her, and she could feel her skin beginning to prickle with the first signs of sunburn. With no landmarks to guide her, she made an arbitrary decision to head east, hoping that direction might lead her to salvation. She set off across the desolate plain, her feet sinking slightly into the parched earth with each step. The horizon shimmered in the distance, a mirage-like wavering that made it impossible to discern where the land ended, and the sky began. As she walked, Abby noticed strange plants and trees after a while, and she saw birds bigger than she could ever believe. “What the hell is going on? Why are the birds so freaking huge?!?! And holy shit! Is that a squirrel it’s massive.” Abby ventured deeper into the bizarre landscape; her senses overwhelmed by the strange sights surrounding her. The trees towered impossibly high, their trunks as wide as houses and their leaves the size of cars. Vines as thick as her arm snaked across the forest floor, their tendrils reaching out as if trying to grasp her ankles. As she pushed through the dense undergrowth, a rustling sound caught her attention. She froze, her eyes widening as a rabbit the size of a medium sized dog hopped into view. Its long ears twitched, each one nearly as tall as Abby herself. The creature's nose quivered as it sniffed the air, its whiskers swaying like thick ropes. Abby held her breath, afraid to move. The giant rabbit's eyes, each as big as her fist, locked onto her for a moment before it bounded away. Abby breathed a sigh of relief and kept on walking her journey long and hard before she finally found a small cave underneath a large tree that she could stop and rest in. She looked down at herself, happy she had worn sweatpants and a shirt with a hoodie over it, thinking it was one of the smartest ideas she had ever had now. She pulled her knees close to her and pulled the hoodie over them to try and keep as warm as possible knowing it was getting dark and would soon cool off, she just hoped she could survive the night at this point As night fell, the alien forest came alive with a symphony of unfamiliar sounds. Eerie whistles and low, rumbling calls echoed through the darkness, punctuated by the occasional rustle of massive leaves. Abby huddled deeper into her makeshift shelter, her body trembling from a mixture of cold and fear. Eventually, exhaustion overcame her anxiety, and she drifted into a fitful sleep. When dawn broke, shafts of golden light filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Abby stirred, her eyes fluttering open to a world transformed by the morning sun. She attempted to stretch but winced as pain shot through her body. Every muscle ached, a testament to her arduous journey the day before and her uncomfortable sleeping position. Despite the discomfort, a wave of relief washed over her. She had survived the night and was alive. Abby slowly rose to her feet, her joints creaking in protest. She stepped out of the cave, blinking in the dazzling morning light. The forest around her seemed even more vibrant and otherworldly in the golden glow of dawn. Massive flowers, their petals as large as dinner plates, unfurled to greet the sun. Dew droplets the size of marbles clung to blades of grass that towered over her head. Determined to find water, Abby set off through the undergrowth. She pushed aside ferns with leaves broader than her entire body, their delicate fronds tickling her face as she passed. The air was thick with the heady scent of unknown blossoms and rich, loamy earth. As she walked, Abby noticed strange, iridescent insects flitting between the enormous plants. Their wings shimmered with colors she had never seen before in her life. After walking for hours Abby could hear water in the distance and grew excited, she started running at full speed, reaching a small stream she got down on her knees and started drinking the water by the handful. “Well, that’s water solved but I’m starving and need to find something to eat soon or I’m going to have more than one problem.” Abby took off her clothes and got in the water for a small swim and to pee, knowing it would just go downstream she knew that she had to head that way after she was done. Refreshed by her swim, Abby reluctantly climbed out of the cool stream. She wrung out her long hair and slipped back into her clothes, grateful for their familiar comfort in this strange world. As she laced up her shoes, she took a moment to marvel at the scene around her. The stream gurgled merrily over rocks the size of cars, creating miniature waterfalls that sparkled in the dappled sunlight. Dragonflies as large as small birds darted above the water's surface, their gossamer wings refracting the light into prismatic rainbows. With a deep breath, Abby began her journey downstream. The riverbank was a riot of color and texture. Moss as soft as velvet carpeted the ground, interspersed with mushrooms that stood taller than she did. Their caps were mottled with swirling patterns that seemed to shift and change as she stepped. Abby set off downstream, her steps more purposeful now that she had a direction to follow. As she walked, the landscape gradually shifted. The dense, jungle-like foliage gave way to more open terrain, with rolling hills covered in grass that shimmered like spun silver in the breeze. Massive flowers dotted the landscape, their petals a riot of colors she had never seen before - deep purples that seemed to glow from within, blues so vivid they hurt her eyes, and reds that pulsed like living flame. Strange creatures scurried through the grass, some resembling oversized rodents with iridescent fur, others more like insects with too many legs and eyes that glowed like tiny stars. In the sky, creatures that looked like a cross between birds and bats soared on leathery wings, their necks twisting as they called to each other in haunting, musical tones calls echoing across the vast expanse. As Abby crested a particularly steep hill, her breath caught in her throat. There, on the distant horizon, rose a sight that defied belief. A colossal city sprawled across the landscape, its spires and towers reaching impossibly high into the sky. The structures seemed to be made of a material that shimmered and shifted like liquid metal, their surfaces reflecting the light in dazzling arrays of color. Massive bridges spanned between the towering edifices, their graceful arches adorned with intricate patterns that appeared to move and dance as she watched. At the heart of the city stood a central tower that dwarfed all others, its peak disappearing into the clouds above. Pulsing beams of light in every hue imaginable shot from its apex, creating a mesmerizing lightshow that painted the sky. Abby was shocked, she knew at heart she was no longer on Earth anymore, she just had no idea where she was.
  7. Hello everyone! Long time lurker but never poster. I've mostly written D&D campaigns, but after reading so many of Elfy's stories I wanted to try my hand at one myself. English is not my first language so I hope it's not too bad. Title might be a work in progress. I have more chapters planned out but I'd like to see the reception and perhaps get some feedback if possible. Thank you! I'll also provide i link to a google docs if the formatting doesn't work. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Z4dphIOARgEWAGIGvfLsoi6k5P6mERzskRKdbOnhGMQ/edit?usp=sharing A Dependent Model Alicia Eriksson wasn’t your normal 19-year old girl. She stopped measuring up to her peers several years ago, in height that is. Standing only at about 3.1 ft and weighing roughly 30 pounds created many vertical challenges in her life. It didn’t help that her natural, curly brown hair that dangled down her shoulders gave her a certain youthful look. She had to assert herself against many concerned mothers that tried - with good intentions - to help her out thinking she was lost while shopping in the supermarket or going for a stroll in the park. Sitting in said park Alicia scrolled through the jobsection of the local newspaper app. Across her sat the local playground, some trees, bushes and a flimmering billboard that never seemed to get fixed. Alicia had tried several times to find a job as her mother felt uncomfortable sending her off to college since she believed Alicia didn’t always ‘think things through’. Alicia had also tried several times to keep a job but time and time again her short stature proved a worthy adversary in getting her fired. She tried waitressing, but she would constantly have to watch out not to be bumped into, which happened, a lot. She abhorred selling tickets at the cinema as people either ridiculed her or thought she was just someone else’s kid playing pretend. Data entering…well that was just boring really, but still! “Come on,” she said to herself with slight frustration, “Somewhere there’s bound to be a job just for me. Where I don’t need to struggle all the time.” Her eyes then landed on a particular small section of the app. “Huh, ‘Stars Modeling Agency now searching for new talents. Please apply by this afternoon’,” she read out loud. She pondered for a bit. “I guess it’s something I haven’t tried yet, but would they have clothes my size?” Scrunching up her face in thought she decided, “Well I can at the very least try. What’s the worst that could happen? Hmm, I should get there quick before applications close.” Happy with her decision Alicia signed up for an interview on their website, took down the details of the place, and put it into her phone’s map. “Oh, it’s a bit across town, but closer than expected. I should be able to walk from the house and get there in 15 minutes or so. Alright, let’s get this bread!” Alicia confidently started to walk towards the Modeling Agency. Making her way across town, passing the cinema, an icecream parlor and several houses on the way. In a small alleyway she could read out the starry sign of the agency. Inside she spotted a waiting room which was painted pastel blue, a counter with a receptionist and two other - what Alicia thought- prospective models. “Huh, weird that they are both here with their kids,” she remarked as she saw two toddlers playing with some dolls in a corner, but she didn’t pay any other attention to them. Alicia went up to the receptionist, a middle-aged woman wearing a cream-coloured cardigan. “Excuse me,” Alica said. The receptionist looked around for a bit before settling her eyes down on the diminutive woman. “I’m here for an interview with,” Alicia looked at her phone, “Sofia Juarez?” She looked at Alicia quizzically. “Hi sweetie, are you here with your mo-” “I’m here by myself, ma’am,” Alicia interrupted already knowing where the lady was going with her questions. “Here’s my ID card, I’d like to speak with Mrs. Juarez if I may?” The receptionist took Alicia’s ID and looked it over. “Well, certainly, Ms. Eriksson. Please have a seat in the meanwhile.” The woman gave Alicia back her card with an amused look on her face, but Alicia didn’t care for the woman’s expressions. Alicia grabbed a seat and started looking through her phone in the meanwhile not noticing the odd looks the other two women in the waiting room were giving her. After waiting an hour for her turn she was called into the office where Sofia Juarez was sitting. She wore business casual attire and had long raven-like hair sitting tightly in a ponytail in the back. “Ms. Eriksson?” she said with a professional tone when Alicia entered. “That’s me Mrs. Juarez. Thank you for taking your time seeing me,” Alicia said. The latina woman looked at Alicia with interest on her face. “It’s just miss for me as well. Please have seat, Ms. Eriksson, pardon if it’s not adjustable.” “I can manage it. Thank you,” Alica assured her and climbed up on the chair. “So, Ms. Eriksson,” Ms. Juarez began, “ have you ever modeled before?” “Honestly, no I have not. To be perfectly frank I’m quite jobstarved at the moment and I’m looking for any kind of opportunity I can get,” Alicia said believing that honesty would be her best bet. “I see, thank you for your candidness, Ms. Eriksson,” Ms. Juarez said and wrote some things in a document, “well we all have to start somewhere.” Alicia smiled, maybe she had a chance? “I assure you, ma’am that I’m a quick learner and even though I’m short I’ll try working really hard.” “Oh your height is of no issue, dear,” Ms. Juarez replied. “So you do carry clothes in my size? That’s very forward thinking, Ms. Juarez.” Alicia couldn’t believe the good news. “Oh yes of course. Don’t worry we have a large sortment of clothes for a woman of your stature. Now a few more questions before we conclude this interview.” Ms. Juarez proceeded to ask Alicia general questions, whether she grew up in town, where she sees herself in a few years etc. Alica answered all of Ms. Juarez’s questions to the best of her ability and looked on nervously as she looked over her clipboard, hoping her lack of experience wouldn’t be an issue. “Well Ms. Eriksson,” Ms. Juarez began, “I think Stars Agency have found their new talent.” “Really?” Alicia beamed. “Oh thank you, ma’am. I promise I won’t let you down.” The latina handed over a contract that Alicia was more than eager to sign without looking too closely at its contents. “I’m sure you will be an excellent addition to our little family, Ms. Eriksson.” “You can just call me Alicia, ma’am,” Alicia said beaming with energy. “Oh, then I insist you call me Sofia. ‘Ma’am’ makes me feel old," she said. Alica took a brief look at Sofia who appeared to be in her late 20s. “Of course, thank you for this opportunity, Sofia.” “You’re welcome, sweetie,” Sofia said with a genuine smile. The ‘sweetie’ comment didn’t even register in Alicia’s mind as she was too busy writing down her details in the contract. “So when should I start?” Alicia said eagerly. “Can you come in tomorrow Friday already? Our photographer Michelle will be available in the afternoon around three o'clock and I could give you some pointers and assist with clothing if necessary? There won’t be any other models in at that time so we could take some time for you to learn the ropes.” Alicia thought it seemed a little odd that the hiring manager would help with clothing, but maybe Sofia was a ‘hands-on’ type of person. Yet that thought did nothing to damper her mood. “Tomorrow afternoon three o'clock, I will be there!” Alica said, hopping off the chair. “Excellent, well Alicia I will see you then. And again, welcome to the family.” Alicia felt like she traveled on air while going back home. Even an inexperienced model could earn a lot in comparison to other professions at the current job market and she couldn’t wait to earn some money to increase her independency. I mean it’s not like living with mom is a bad thing, but a girl gotta spread her wings, right? She thought to herself as she passed the trees in the park with the flimmering billboard acting up as usual. Alicia paused for a bit to take in the nice summer’s breeze. “From here on out my life is going to change,” she said before continuing back to her house.
  8. This story takes place a couple of months after Mission Improbable, and about half a year after Keeping Secrets. It's hard for me to tell, but I don't think it's strictly necessary to read the previous stories to enjoy this one, but they do contain quite a bit of background information. And as always, I will be updating the tags as the different parts are posted to avoid spoilers. The same thing applies to the title. I just haven't been able to come up with a good one yet. (Suggestions are welcome) Updates for this text will be less regular than my previous stories since I'm still in the process of writing this one. ----------------- "Damnit, damnit, damnit!" Tracy gave her office door repeated kicks as she tried to turn the key. The humidity-warped door frame finally surrendered and the key turned in the lock with a metallic scrape. Pushing the door open with her shoulder, Tracy backed through it, pulling the suitcase containing her drones and the remote control systems over the threshold. She kicked the door closed and glared out of the window across the room. The rain was pouring down outside and even the quick run across the street from the parking garage had soaked her to the bone. Tracy hated rain. At least she hated rain when she had to be outdoors in it. Being curled up with a good book or a movie while the rain was beating against the window was a near-perfect afternoon. Also, the rain made her short hair frizzy. Usually Tracy's hair would refuse to be anything other than straight, even if she used ozone layer-ruining amounts of industrial-strength hair spray. So Tracy considered the damp, unmanageable half-curls a personal insult. Tracy opened the suitcase and removed all the drones, leaving them on her desk to dry. Then she headed for the bathroom, every squishing step leaving wet footprints on the floor. Tracy kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her jacket, hanging it to dry over the top of the door. The jeans were more of a struggle to get off. Even though Tracy favoured baggy trousers, they still seemed to cling to her legs, resisting every effort to be removed. After finally managing to pull the wet denim down past her hips along with her underwear, Tracy tried to step out of the pants, only to lose her balance and almost fall face-first against the door. She caught herself at the last second and sat down on the toilet to peel off the stubborn fabric. Her t-shirt was next, landing with a splat next to the inside-out jeans. Tracy stood and leaned on the sink for a moment, staring at the woman in the mirror. She looked wet and miserable; like a kitten after a bath. Tracy reached into the shower and turned on the water. It cycled through its customary three seconds of lukewarm before proceeding to glacial, then boiling, before settling at a somewhat comfortable temperature. She stepped into the shower, feeling the water pound down on her scalp. Her entire body felt gross and greasy. I guess that's what I get from having a three-day stakeout above a fast food joint. She poured a generous amount of shampoo into her hand. As she massaged it into her hair, a flowery smell filled the room. Hopefully it would get rid of the smell of deep fryer fumes. She couldn't wait to put the entire case behind her. It had started out innocently enough: A husband suspecting his wife of cheating on him. When he left town, Tracy had followed the wife to a no-tell hotel. Something in the building next to the hotel had made her small drones go completely haywire. So after having retrieved the drones, Tracy had had to resort to renting a room below her target and using an old-fashioned borescope through the ventilation system. The wife had not been having an affair. She was either having eight different affairs, or she was working as a prostitute. Five men, two women, and one person who had arrived dressed as Richard Nixon and stayed in costume the whole time. She hadn't left the room for three days. On the second day she had taken a break from having sex to run a five-hour high-stakes poker game. Tracy had to admit she was impressed with the woman's stamina. Over the entire three days, she hadn't slept or eaten anything, consuming nothing but copious amounts of alcohol and drugs that Tracy couldn't identify. Tracy had taken pictures of everyone she could, but only to document what went on. The woman's husband hadn't paid for identification, so she would have to ask him if he even wanted that after having seen the pictures. She hoped he would, since that would mean extra money for very little actual work. Tracy would mostly be waiting while the computer did all the heavy lifting. I'm going to sleep for a week. It had been almost sixty hours of watching people having sex through a fish-eye lens with no sleep and only rushed bathroom breaks. Usually Tracy would wear diapers during stakeouts, and not just for the convenience of fewer bathroom breaks. But after having taken one look at the shower in the room she'd rented, she had decided that there was no way she was going to risk tetanus and seven other diseases by using it. Tracy rested her forehead against the wall, watching the soap suds being rinsed off her body and spiralling down the drain. She let her hand wander down her stomach. She scratched the stubble she found and sighed. I guess I'll have to fix that. She grabbed the razor and soap and carefully shaved. She didn't actually need to, but she preferred to be clean-shaven when wearing diapers. It was less itchy, and the smooth skin felt better against the diaper. It also had the added bonus of getting praise from Kat. Tracy turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, drying herself before wrapping the towel around herself. She picked up the clothes and hung them all to dry over the shower curtain rod, on the sink or wherever she could find room. The bathroom would stink of old fry oil, but at least the rest of the tiny apartment wouldn't. She opened the tiny window ever so slightly before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. I guess I'm doing laundry as well tomorrow. Tracy checked that the front door was locked then headed for the bedroom. She pulled the curtains closed and let the towel fall to the floor. What she wanted to do most of all was just to lie down and go to sleep. However, there was still one thing she needed to do. Reaching into the large plastic box under the bed, she pulled out one of her thick overnight diapers and unfolded it on the bed. Kat had picked out the overnight diapers using some very clear criteria. They had to be so thick that Tracy would have to waddle while wearing them. They also had to be big and noisy enough that they'd be pretty much impossible to hide. And finally, they had to be absorbent enough that Tracy could wear them for an entire night without risking a leak. Tracy sat down on the diaper and lay back. When she sprinkled baby powder on herself, she smiled as the fine white powder tickled her freshly shaved and sensitive skin. Spreading her legs far apart Tracy pulled the diaper up between them and held it to her stomach with one hand while taping it in place with the other. The thick material felt almost like a giant gloved hand cupping her entire crotch. It was a little too stiff to be comfortable, but Tracy knew that how to fix that. She scooted herself to the corner of the bed and sat there, rocking back and forth, using the corner to soften the material. It also had the added benefit of feeling good, but Tracy was too tired to even masturbate. She just wanted to sleep. Pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head, she punched her pillow a couple of times to give it the right shape, pulled a thin blanket up to cover herself and fell asleep almost instantly.
  9. Hi everyone! Here I am again, starting a new series. I have 18 chapters written and plan to post once to twice a week. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I did writing this. If you're a fan of my past stories, you can expect twists, turns and tension between the MMC and FMC. Teaser trailer: Emma Marie Rose is a cutt-throat and well-trained data thief, the top of her agency that is contracted to expose and blackmail their clients victims. She is given one assignment that she knew going in was risky, possibly the hardest assignment yet but the largest payout she'd ever see in her career. She was assigned not one, but four targets to blackmail and expose their deepest, darkest secrets. Like always, she'd plan to destroy a company from the inside out and then disappear. Little does Emma know, things would get much more complicated as she discovers her own deepest darkest secrets in the process and meets the CEO of a company who flips her world upside down. What starts as a mission of destruction quickly spirals into a high-stakes game of deceit and revelation, where Emma's own secrets threaten to unravel her carefully fabricated life as she knew it. Trigger Warnings: Mental health, ED, smut The Data Thief Chapter 1: The Assignment Emma fixed her makeup in the brightly lit marble lined bathroom, popping on her pink lip gloss and fixing her long soft wavy brunette, almost blonde hair, tied up in a ponytail with her bangs drifting messily to her left above her brow. “Gabriella Simmons, you can call me Gabby. Nice to meet you.” She said in the mirror softly, moss green eyes saying with conviction and a bright smile that was playful, maybe a hint flirtatious. Her face fell flat, her mask disappearing as she was happy with her look to go into the interview with. It was cute, girly and flirty, all to charm her hopefully soon-to-be victims. She was walking into an office full of white corporate assholes, her favorite specimen of male to cyber bully and embarrass, one by one. Some would quit. Some would deny everything she revealed of their personal chats and messages. Some would have a midlife crisis and buy an expensive car when their wives broke up with them. Emma flashed a wicked smile to herself in the mirror before swinging her purse over her shoulder, knowing she was going to quietly slow-torment an office into the fiery flames of corporate self-annihilation, just like she had many times before. She got paid a nice commission by her agency to do so and it was a rewarding job. She was the top of her agency, after all, no one was as fast nor as skilled in hacking as she was. Her targets didn’t even question or bat an eye as she tore their businesses apart, employee by employee. Emma took in a breath before leaving the bathroom, knowing this assignment was different than the rest. Usually, Emma didn't break a sweat, she barely even felt nervous. Exhilaration and excitement was all she felt yet, since the moment she was given this assignment, something felt off. Maybe it was because it was the highest commission she'd ever get on an assignment or maybe it was because her agency was losing it's star players left and right before she accepted it. She really couldn't pinpoint it and chalked it up to the higher payout which typically meant higher stakes. All she could remember vividly was when her coworker and best friend, Graham, announced this assignment and she confronted her manager about it. To say the least, that's how she ended up in this predicament as she was convinced by her boss to accept it, against her better judgement. “Emmaleeeeeesi! Here ya go, smoke show.” Graham smiled large with a mocking tone when he said ‘smoke show’ referring to what a past target called her on her prior job. He held up a file folder as Emma walked into the office with her iced coffee, passing him as she plucked the file from his hands. His soft brown eyes bouncing at the assignment. “Emmaleesi, queen of corporate fire, chaos and dragons is here, late as usual.” Bailey, her manager, muttered as she looked at her gold watch, waiting in Emma’s office as Graham followed behind. “Thank you, I will take all the compliments and bonuses that come with the title.” Emma smiled, setting down her iced coffee on her desk and dropping her bag in her desk drawer. “Your client wants to meet tomorrow at Starbucks around the corner at 9AM. Just make sure you’re on time.” Bailey said, going back to her own office, “I’m putting it in your calendar.” Graham closed the door and raised his eyebrows to Bailey, “Think the boss is mad about your tardiness.” Emma shrugged, “First off, I’m a contractor technically, not her employee. Not to mention, I was gone for 5 months on that last assignment and almost got sexually assaulted by the last target. Bailey can lay off me for a second, I didn’t ask for a higher commission. She’s lucky, considering I’m bringing in almost half of our clientele and getting her more referrals.” Graham smiled, “Bailey is dealing with losing Kiara over the weekend. I don't think it’s you.” “What happened to Kiara?” Emma asked, confused. “She got caught by her target. He found her in his files. She had to resign from our team, in case she is turned into the police for breaching private data. Worse, if her target finds out about our agency, we can get sued and exposed. Bailey is paranoid.” Emma rolled her eyes, “Well, I told Bailey that the assignment she gave Kiara was a suicide mission, hence why I didn’t even humor it. The target had fingerprint access to most of his encrypted data." Graham nodded, pausing a moment as he looked at the file on Emma’s desk, “Speaking of suicide missions…” Emma deadpanned Graham a look, “You’re not messing with me, are you?” She opened the file folder he handed her earlier and logged into her computer, looking at her email and the files Graham emailed for her new assignment. He stayed silent as she clicked through the notes, “Penn & Williams Consulting Agency, 4 targets in one office.” She scrunched her face in a cute way that if Graham was straight, he’d probably find her attractive, “What in the fuck is Bailey doing? You know what-” Emma got up, storming out of her office and across the building, passing coworkers who whispered to each other as Emma’s face was blatantly irritated. Bailey was on her phone, pushing back a stray hair in her light blonde hair into her tight pony tail. Her blue eyes widened seeing Emma storm in and close the door. “I’ll have to let you go for a moment here, Brittney.” She said goodbye and crossed her arms and looked to Emma, “Yes?” “Excuse my language, Bailey, but, what in the fuck type of assignment is this?” She held the file folder up, “I said I’m not doing suicide missions or attempting them. Thought I told you that loud and clear last time.” “It’s not a suicide mission, first off. Second off, you used to love assignments like this, why isn’t this enticing you? Thought you’d like a challenge since you’ve been taking the easiest assignments lately.” Bailey said, going to her desktop and typing an email, slightly ignoring Emma. “That was until I almost got caught a year ago, Bailey.” Emma said, her jaw tight. A silent anger bubbled in her chest, going to her neck, "And I'll have you know that last 5 month assignment was not easy in the slightest. I almost got sexually assaulted." Bailey crossed her arms with a sigh, “Well, we don’t have anyone else who could be up for this job. The target likes hiring petite and stunning mid-twenties women. No offense to our office mates, but we have too many guys on staff and mid-thirties women. It was either you or Kiara and, well, Kiara isn’t an option anymore.” Bailey said, sighing, “You have to pull your weight again, there’s not much we can do here. After this assignment you can take a month off. I’ll even throw in 10% extra.” She said, eyes sliding to Emma, knowing she was easier to persuade with time off and money. “Four targets and only ten percent? 30% extra and 6 weeks.” Emma sneered. Bailey turned to Emma, setting her hands together on the light brown desk with a sigh. After a pause of thought, she said, “20% extra and 5 weeks. Take it or leave it.” Emma stared hard at the desk wood, it wasn’t an impossible assignment… but, it was high risk. This was possibly the hardest assignment she’d ever get but could mean the biggest payout she'd ever see. “What’s the payment and contract length?” Emma asked, eyes meeting Bailey’s even stare. “400K and 6 months minimum.” Emma almost choked on air, “Who even has that type of money?” Her eyes widened. Emma got a 10% split on her assignments payouts as commission. 30% meant a whopping commission of 120K. She'd never seen a six figure payout, Bailey was desperate it seemed. Emma wouldn’t need to work for a year after that if Bailey would let her. “The client had a multi-millionaire family member pass away who owned a large company and got a considerable life insurance benefit check. She’s desperate to take down the whole company for what they did to her and heard of our work.” Bailey said, going back to her desktop, “Is that enough for you to move forward?” Emma’s mouth was dry from being open as she stood, “Sure, but-“ She shook her head, “what did the targets do to her?” What was bad enough to pay for $400,000 in revenge? That thought would keep Emma up at night, although it really wasn't her business. Bailey’s mouth fell in a line, “You’ll talk to her tomorrow.” The next day, Emma walked into Starbucks a bit hesitantly. She ordered her iced oatmilk latte and sat down in a unoccupied corner, awaiting her new client. The client walked in and Emma waved, with a friendly smile. A girl with warm brown eyes and blonde long hair walked over after getting her coffee. “Brittney, nice to meet you, uhm-“ “Gabby Simmons, nice to meet you.” Emma nodded, already in code name. This was a risky assignment and she wasn’t faltering, not even with the client. “Gabby, pleasure to meet you and no offense, but-“ She blurted, “you are just nothing like I expected.” Her brown eyes apologetic immediately following her words. Emma smiled, “You are fine, I get that all the time.” She didn’t know what it was, but a lot of clients thought she would be ugly or invisible, yet Emma was starkly visible and memorable. She had a charm to her that made her such a good asset to her assignments. She was quick-witted and undetectable, none of her clients knew what her true intentions were until she left them vulnerable and exposed. “Can I just ask a question?” Brittney asked, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. “Sure.” Emma nodded. “How did you get into this- uh, profession?” Brittney asked, curious. The girl was Emma’s age and, if not for being a client, Emma would have been friends easily with this girl. Emma licked her lips as her smile faded, “High school bullies. Sounds stupid but, ah, fuck them. They can all fuck off.” She said, with a confidence in her voice as a tinge of pain flashed in her eyes that Brittney caught. Brittney smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Only a shared sadness and sympathy reflected in Brittney’s eyes, “Then it sounds like I have the right person for this job.”
  10. Hello All! It's been a while since I've posted a new story, but I'm back with a project I'm very excited about! "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" is the story of Rei Akiyama, a young girl trying to navigate through life in a near future dystopia where the age of majority has been raised to 28 for girls and regressive behavioral therapy has become popular to help girls adjust to these new laws. The world this story is set in is very strongly inspired by/based on the world building of Alteredstates, so a lot of credit goes to him! For those unfamiliar with Alteredstates, he does world building through ad copy and other cultural artifacts. While you don't need to be familiar with his work to understand and appreciate this story, I strongly recommend you check it out! Not only because it will help you immerse yourself in this world, but also because it's genuinely really good! You can find him on Tumblr, Twitter, and Patreon! Without further ado, I give you the prologue and first two chapters of "You Know What They Do to Girls Like Us in Brighter Days?" Prologue The night of Wednesday, October 4th, 2028, was unseasonably cold in the city of Greenham; snow was in the forecast for the next day in a city that rarely saw a snowflake until at least January. By 7:28PM, there were already flurries dancing through the cold wind that whipped through the dumpsters behind City Hall, where John Bennet, the head of City Hall security, stood with his foot propping open the emergency exit of the east stairwell. He blew out a lungful of smoke as he dropped his cigarette on the pavement below and crushed it beneath his shoe. John was nothing if not a creature of habit; so much so that, if one cared to be so observant, they could predict exactly what time John would take the last smoke break of his shift before he did his final sweep of the building. He would then go home to his shabby apartment. That night, however, was different. That night, John wouldn’t be going home; he would be meeting a 28-year-old girl he had met on the internet. That night, John’s phone rang just as he was about to go back inside. He fished his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he saw his date’s name on the caller ID, and swiped his finger across the screen as he raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, trying to sound smooth, “I can’t wait to see you.” On the other end of the phone, a young-sounding voice poured honeyed words into his ear as he turned and walked back into the building. Another night, under less distracting circumstances, John would have almost certainly noticed that the door never clicked closed behind him, but the telling silence was lost amongst the words that sent his blood pumping. In a bar a few miles away, Edward Cook was ordering a drink for a girl who looked too young to be there. The girl blushed as she slid her ID and emancipation card across the counter at the bartender’s request, brushing her blue hair behind her ear to look coyly at Edward out of the corner of her eye as she did. Edward never even noticed the girl on the other side of him, or her hand as she slipped a hard plastic card at the end of a black lanyard out of his suit jacket pocket. The card, printed with Edward’s picture and the seal of the Office of Juvenile Affairs, disappeared into the girl’s clutch purse as she quietly slipped away from the bar. She checked the time on her phone as she stepped out into the frosty night: 7:34PM. Elsewhere, the number 9 county bus was pulling over for an unscheduled stop due to a disturbance on the bus involving three young girls. The driver, Richard Lawson, broke up the altercation with the help of another passenger and removed the girls from the bus. That taken care of, an exasperated Richard reported the incident to dispatch, who noted the number 9 bus was running ten minutes behind but was resuming his route at 7:47PM. Back at the courthouse, John, having finished his final sweep of the building and found nothing out of the ordinary, put the finishing touches on his security logs for the night and leaned back in his chair, eyes sweeping over the bank of CCTV monitors that showed snapshots of the interior of the courthouse. It was, however, the clock that John was truly focused on, his eyes constantly flicking between it and the monitors. The moment those numbers turned from 7:59 to 8:00PM, John pushed himself out of his chair and jabbed his finger at the button that caused all of the monitors to wink out simultaneously. Had he waited just a minute longer, he might have seen the black garbed figures slip in from the emergency exit in the east stairwell. He could have watched as they crept up that staircase and slipped into second floor hallway. Another camera would have shown the figures slink down the hallway, past the Permits Office and the Office of Parks and Recreation. On a third camera, the figures stopped in front of a frosted glass door with Office of Juvenile Affairs printed across it in thick, black block letters. One of the figures swiped a card by the panel next to the door, the light turned from red to green, and the figures quickly disappeared through the door. Later, security logs would be pulled showing Edward Cook had accessed the office at 8:04PM; the subsequent investigation would find Cook was not guilty of any direct involvement but would still lose his position on the grounds of gross negligence. By 8:15PM, Greenham City Hall was silent and empty. At 8:17PM, the number 9 county bus blew past the empty bus stop at the far end of the City Hall parking lot. On an ordinary night, Richard would typically idle at this station for a few minutes, but he was working hard to make up for lost time. The next few stops were just as empty, which wasn’t unusual for this time of night on a weekday. It was 8:34PM when the bus pulled up to the stop at Greenham Community College, where three girls and four boys boarded the bus, all of them in their late teens and early twenties. Richard Lawson wouldn’t even think to mention this to investigators later, though they likely would have made nothing of it if he had. By 8:50PM, the city of Greenham, a suburb of the nation’s capital city, was settling into its slumber. A few bars and restaurants were still pouring drinks for late night clientele, but curfew was quickly approaching and all those affected were either already home or else rushing to get there. At 8:54PM, the electric engine of the number 9 county bus was humming along through the streets of one such sleepy neighborhood, empty but for Ricard Lawson and a small handful of passengers: a young girl with black hair and tawny skin carrying a bookbag tight to her chest, two boys with their feet on the seats laughing raucously in the back of the bus, and a mother and a daughter riding together. Richard glanced up at the passengers in his rearview mirror and caught the eye of the daughter. She had bright blue eyes, a practical waterfall of golden curls, and looked to be in her early twenties. Richard smiled at the girl in the mirror; he had to admit, she was adorable in her pink shirt and plaid skirtall. She smiled back at him from behind the shield of her pacifier. The mother turned away from the book in her hand and leaned over the girl, slipping one hand up the girl’s skirtall. Richard quickly averted his gaze, suddenly feeling like he was invading their privacy. “Oh, Rebecca,” the older woman sighed quietly, but still loud enough to be heard easily on the otherwise silent bus, “your pull-up is soaked; did you even know you had to go?” The girl’s smile disappeared into her blush as she mumbled some words from behind her pacifier. The mother chuckled. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she ruffled her daughter’s hair, “we’re almost home! Then we can get you changed into your nighttime diapers and feed you a nice bottle before bed, would you like that?” She booped her daughter’s nose and sent the girl into a fit of laughter. The black-haired girl shifted in her seat across from the mother and daughter, obviously trying to avoid looking at them. She glanced at her phone, 9:52PM. Richard Lawson shifted in his seat and tried to ignore the cooing and giggling going on behind him. Little single-family homes passed by as he made his way down Ridgemont Street, and only more in sight as he turned right down Wrighton Square. The bell dinged and Richard slowly pressed the brake, bringing the bus to a stop at the corner or Wrighton and Central Lake Drive. Richard wished his passengers a good night, stay safe, as they all got off. Glancing back in his rearview mirror to confirm the bus was empty, Richard slowly accelerated into the night. Peter Grant watched the bus pull away from the front seat of his Greenham Police Department Cruiser. He scanned the passengers leaving the bus stop. Two young men cross the street and kept walking up Wrighton Square while three women started walking up Central Lake Drive and toward his cruiser. He checked his clock: 9:56, damn near too late for young women to be out alone. “Let’s check it out,” he said to his partner, Dave Clusky, as he stepped out of the cruiser and started crossing the street towards the trio. As Peter approached, the women were backlit by a streetlamp, but he could make out the vaguely feminine shapes of three women. Two of them walked side by side as the third, at least a few inches shorter than the other two, walked a couple of feet behind. Peter raised his flashlight, “Excuse me, ladies,” he called out officiously as the beam of light cut through the night, bringing the slowly drifting flakes of snow into heavy contrast. The three ladies stopped in their tracks. The shorter of the two in front whimpered behind her pacifier and clung to the older woman next to her as they both blinked against the light. The girl behind them gasped inaudibly and stared ahead like a deer in headlights for a moment before raising a hand to protect her eyes from the worst of the light. “Evening, ma’am,” Peter nodded to the older woman, “these your children?” The woman glanced behind her, then back to Peter, “just this one,” she replied, squeezing Rebecca close to her. Peter nodded, “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. Best get your little one inside, it looks to be about her bedtime.” The mother laughed politely, “yes, we’ve had a very long day, thank you, officer.” She tugged on Rebecca’s hand and quietly urged the girl on. Peter swept his flashlight over a few degrees to focus his beam on the girl in the white button up shirt and plaid suspender skirt. “Could you lower your hand, miss? How old are you?” “Uhm, nineteen,” she replied nervously, “I know it’s—” “It’s almost curfew,” Peter interrupted her, “you allowed to be out past curfew?” “Um, no, sir, I—” “Yeah, didn’t think so. What’s your name? What are you doing out so late?” “Um, Rei, sir, and I’m coming home from college, sir, I was—” “College?” Dave chimed in, “you got parental permission for that?” “Yes, sir, and I—” “What were you doing at college this late?” Peter asked. “You go to Greenham CC?” “Yes, sir, I was studying—” “Studying,” Dave scoffed, “yeah, right.” “I was, sir, I have—” “You got a pass from your professor?” Peter asked. “Yes, sir, it’s—” “Well?” Dave said impatiently. “Let’s see it,” Peter demanded. “Yes, sir,” the girl reached into her backpack and produced a folded sheet of paper that was immediately snatched out of her hand. “Professor Lewis? English?” Peter read key words off the piece of paper before handing it off to Dave. Dave looked the sheet over, made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, then handed it back to Peter. “Looks legit” “You know it’s almost curfew, kid?” Peter turned back towards the girl, thrusting the paper back at her. “Yes, sorry, I was—” “Yeah, you were at college, you said. You live close by?” “Yes, sir, I—” “Where at?” “Just up the street,” she raised her hand and pointed behind Peter. “Uh huh,” Peter sounded skeptical. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: 9:59PM. “Think you can get home before curfew hits, little girl?” He smiled maliciously. The girl’s knees went weak; she clutched her bag to her chest as if it could protect from him the malice in his smile. Her vision tunneled in on the face of Peter Grant and the world around her sounded like it was moving through water. Tick. 10:00PM. As curfew went into effect all over Greenham and it’s surrounding townships, the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall exploded outward, raining fire and rubble into it’s expansive parking lot. The sound of the explosion tore through the still night air, audible as a low rumbling miles away on Central Lake Drive. A portion of the horizon of the night sky lit up. “The fuck…?” Peter cursed. “Fuck me!” Dave swore. The girl let out a quiet yelp and resisted the urge to make a break for it. Silence filled the air in the aftermath of the explosion, and then the radios on Dave and Peter’s shoulders started squawking. They completely forgot about the girl as they scrambled back to their cruiser. Chapter One Snowflakes were melting in Rei Akiyama’s hair as she slumped against the front door of her house. She was still shaking and trying to steady her breath. “You’re late,” a voice said from the living room. “I know, I’m sorry, Mom,” Rei said, still panting slightly as she took her shoes off before entering the room. “The bus was running late; I ran all the way here from the bus stop.” Ms. Akiyama made a sound in her throat as she looked her daughter up and down. “You were studying? Let me see your pass.” “Yes, Mom,” Rei said as she pulled out the now slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her bag and handed it over. “You’re working too hard in school,” Ms. Akiyama said matter-of-factly. “Well, whatever, I’m glad you’re home,” she discarded the paper on the end table, “I was starting to get worried when I heard that rumbling. Did you hear that?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei nodded and chewed on her lip, unsure what else to say on the topic. “Rei, stop chewing your lip, it’s a bad nervous habit.” “Yes, Mom, sorry.” Rei forced herself to stop and instead just looked down at her shoes. “Well?” Ms. Akiyama asked expectantly a moment later. “It’s almost bedtime; shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? The news said we were supposed to get a few inches of snow, so school will probably be cancelled tomorrow, but I want you in bed on time just in case, okay?” “Yes, Mom,” Rei replied. She tried her best not to turn and run up the stairs, but instead walked casually up them as if it had just been a normal night of studying. Her mother watched her go, sensing something was off about her daughter, but she was unable to put her finger on what, exactly, she was sensing. Rei stopped briefly at the top of the stairs, turned back, and gave a small smile and wave when she saw her mother was still watching, then disappeared around the corner. Ms. Akiyama sighed quietly: what was she going to do with that girl? She was worried what kind of ideas her school was filling her head with, and Rei being out all-night studying didn’t do anything to allay that worry. Picking up the pass Rei had given her, Ms. Akiyama turned and settled back down on the couch. According to the pass, Rei had been working on her midterm essay for English with Professor Lewis. Sighing once more, she set the note aside, making a mental note to ask Rei what she was writing her essay about (maybe that would give her a clue on exactly what kind of idea’s the school was filling Rei’s head with), and turned her attention back to the TV where a mature looking woman was smiling back at her while holding a colorful package. “That why I decided to try new Pampers Overnight Diapers! They are expertly designed for girls who wet the bed,” as the woman delivered the line, she reached her free hand out the side and pulled a young girl of about eight or ten into the frame and into a side hug, “and those who don’t,” the camera pulled out and panned over to reveal an older girl about Rei’s age staring distractedly at her phone seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, “yet,” the mother added after a beat and punctuated it with a wink. Upstairs, Rei leaned against the wall, just out of sight, focusing on getting her breathing back to normal. The night hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but, so far, nothing had gone terribly wrong. She could only hope it stayed that way. Rei pushed herself away from the wall and made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom, closing her door behind her just as downstairs the TV alerted her mother to breaking news. As Ms. Akiyama was stunned to hear of the bombing just a few miles from her, Rei was tossing her backpack on the floor next to her desk and throwing herself face down on her bed. She was slightly dazed and more than exhausted. Part of her couldn’t believe the events of the night. Yes, they had been making plans for weeks now, she had known this night was coming, but now that it was done…it felt surreal. She was terrified of what would come next. Still, there was one more thing she had to do before this night was over. Rei crept back to her bedroom door, listened carefully, then cracked the door ever so slightly. The distant sounds of the TV still drifted up the stairs and the hallway was empty. Closing the door silently, she rushed across the carpet in socked feet to her desk, which, looking back over her shoulder towards the door, she inched away from the wall. Kneeling down, Rei reached behind the desk and pried off a piece of the baseboard to reveal a small crevice between the wall and the floor from which Rei produced a cell phone at least a decade old. It was black with a silver lined screen and a numeric keyboard. Rei brought up the messaging app only to be greeted with over a dozen texts; each was from a different number, but they all said the same thing: “home safe.” She sighed with relief, painstakingly typed out her own missive (“home safe”) on the numeric keyboard and pressed send before immediately replacing the phone in its hiding place and putting everything back in order. Now, Rei thought, it was time to get ready for bed. Chapter Two “It was confirmed early this morning that there were no casualties or injuries in last night’s explosion at the Greenham City Hall, which occurred at exactly 10PM and destroyed most of the building’s eastern half. While authorities have yet to make any statements regarding the cause of the explosion, many are already speculating that this was an act of domestic terrorism committed by the radical leftist feminist group Rebel in response to recent social policy legislation restricting the rights of women under twenty-eight. Supporters of this theory have been quick to point out that the offices of the newly established Office of Juvenile Affairs, which was formed to enforce these new policies, was located in the eastern wing of the Greenham City Hall. We’ll be sure to bring you all the breaking details on this story as it develops. Back to you in the studio, Steve.” As the news switched back to less interesting stories, Ms. Akiyama turned her attention away from the tablet propped up on the kitchen counter and back to the cast iron skillet in front of her where the pancakes were beginning to form bubbles along the edge of the batter. She flipped them with the kind of perfection that only came with years of practice and shook her head, it was just terrible what had happened. She knew some people thought the new laws were going too far, but surely bombing buildings was going just as far, if not further. No, it wasn’t the proper way to go about voicing dissent at all. And if this was the kind of stuff feminism was preaching these days, maybe there was some sense to these new laws. Certainly they didn’t teach girls to behave that way when she was younger. Ms. Akiyama just prayed Rei’s head wasn’t being filled with this kind of stuff at that college she had begged so hard to go to. Maybe it wasn’t too late to put her in a vocational school; with a little discipline, Rei could make an excellent secretary. Or maybe she could get Rei a job working at a daycare; Rei always liked children, and maybe tapping into Rei’s maternal instincts was just what was needed to make sure she stayed on the right path. Or, there was always… No, no, Ms. Akiyama shoved that thought away. Rei was a good kid; a bit headstrong, but a good kid, surely that option was too drastic. Ms. Akiyama sighed as she stacked the pancakes on the steadily growing pile; she just wanted Rei to be safe and have a nice, happy life. She didn’t want her daughter falling in with the wrong crowd and getting herself in trouble. It wasn’t easy raising a daughter in such complicated times. Ms. Akiyama was still musing on such matters when Rei shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, almost instinctively following the smell of pancakes. “Pancakes?” Rei asked hopefully. “Does that mean school is canceled?” Mom typically never made pancakes on weekdays. “It sure does,” Ms. Akiyama replied cheerfully, trying to hide the somber mood the news had put her in. “Have you looked outside? We got quite a lot of snow!” Rei grinned and rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room and its bay window overlooking their front yard and the street beyond. Everything was white and brilliantly bright in the morning sun, covered in what must have been at least five or six inches of snow. Even the road was covered; it seemed like the snowplows hadn’t made it to their neighborhood yet. Rei couldn’t help but stare out the window in wonderment; she had always loved the snow. There was just something magical about it. Behind her, Ms. Akiyama leaned against the door frame and grinned. When it came to snow, kids were always kids. “Come on,” Ms. Akiyama said after giving Rei a few moments to take in the wintery spread, “the pancakes are getting cold.” She turned and headed back in to the kitchen without checking to make sure Rei was following her. The news was once again talking about last night’s incident, so Ms. Akiyama quickly turned it off as she grabbed the plate of pancakes; she didn’t want to upset Rei with such terrible news first thing in the morning. “So,” Ms. Akiyama said as she set the plate of pancakes on the table and Rei settled into her seat, “you were working on an essay with your professor last night?” She grabbed the syrup from the fridge before settling into her own seat. “Um, yeah,” Rei responded simply as she loaded her plate with pancakes, “my midterm essay,” she added after a moment. “Oh, that’s nice,” Ms. Akiyama passed the syrup across the table and took a couple pancakes off the stack for herself. “What’s it about?” “Um,” Rei was drenching her pancakes in syrup, “well, it’s…well, our professor gave us some articles to choose from and we just have to like respond to one of them.” “Interesting, what kind of articles?” “Just, you know, current events stuff.” “Uh-huh, and what article did you choose?” Sure, Ms. Akiyama was testing the waters, trying to see what kind of stuff Rei was learning at school, but, to her credit, she was genuinely interested in her daughter’s life. Rei, on the other hand, was getting nervous. Her mother didn’t usually ask her this many questions about her schoolwork. Rei liked that her mother didn’t ask her about her schoolwork. Rei thought the less her mother asked about her schoolwork, the better. Why was her mother suddenly interested? She thought about lying, but if her mother asked to see the essay, she’d be caught immediately. “Well, just about…about the passing of The Hayes Act…” “Oh, I see.” Rei shoveled a too large bite of pancakes into her mouth to avoid having to respond. Oh, I see? What did that mean? Rei tried to smile around the bite of pancakes, but her eyes were searching her mother’s face for anything that might hint to her true reaction. Ms. Akiyama worked to keep her face as passive as possible, raising her cup and taking a long, slow sip of coffee to help her efforts. She had barely discussed the act with her daughter since its passage six months ago. She hadn’t needed to much, and it had always felt like such a…touchy subject. “Why did you choose that article?” Ms. Akiyama asked, trying hard to sound casual but interested and definitely non-confrontational. Just a mom interested in her daughter’s schoolwork. Rei speared a hunk of pancake with her fork and cut it away from the rest with her knife, “Um, I just thought the article was interesting,” she spoke with her head down, giving her voice a muffled quality. “What was the article about?” Ms. Akiyama knew Rei had strong feelings about The Hayes Act, and she couldn’t blame her. Rei had turned nineteen a month before the law had passed; she had been an adult for thirteen months when she once again became a child in the eyes of the law for another nine years. Of course, Ms. Akiyama understood why her daughter felt so strongly about it; she respected Rei’s passion, but she wished Rei could accept that there was nothing that could be done. She wished Rei could just accept that the world wasn’t what her mother had promised it would be she told Rei she could grow up to be whatever she wanted. “Just,” Rei shrugged, “I guess the author was talking about how it shouldn’t have passed and stuff…” The two were in a minefield; they both knew it. Neither wanted this to end in an explosion, but one couldn’t leave, and the other couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Oh,” Ms. Akiyama said, “do you talk about that kind of stuff a lot in school?” The last time they had discussed The Hayes Act had been when it had come time for Rei to enroll in her second year at Greenham Community College. With Rei then legally a child, she needed Ms. Akiyama’s permission to continue attending college. Ms. Akiyama could have stopped her; she had certainly been tempted to do it. Rei shrugged, “What do you mean ‘that kind of stuff’?” “Stuff like The Hayes Act? Politics?” “I guess, sometimes.” “What kind of stuff do they teach you about it?” Rei shrugged, “I mean, they just like…explain how it came to be. Historically, you know?” “I see.” Ms. Akiyama could sense her daughter getting…defensive? Evasive? She was certainly becoming something. Maybe it was time to pump the brakes. “I just worry,” Ms. Akiyama said, genuinely thinking it would help defuse the situation. “Worried?!” Rei said a little too loudly, “there’s nothing to worry about, Mom!” “It’s just…I hear a lot these days about what kinds of things colleges are teaching and—” “Mo-om!” “—and I don’t want them filling your head with the wrong kinds of ideas, that’s all!” “Mom, they are not…brainwashing me, okay?” “I didn’t say brainwashing, okay? I just hear what kinds of things colleges teach these days, that’s all,” Ms. Akiyama repeated. Rei slumped in her chair. Her mom had managed to ruin pancakes. “I just want you to be happy,” Ms. Akiyama said after a long, awkward pause. She reached across the table to take her daughter’s hand. “College just makes things harder for most girls these days, and, besides, you study so much, it’s not good for you.” “But I like school, Mom. It makes me happy.” “Well, why don’t we sign you up for one of those extended high school for girls programs?” Ms. Akiyama smiled, genuinely thinking it would be a good suggestion. “Ugh, Mom,” Rei withdrew her hand and shot her mother a withering look, “those are just housewife classes.” “There’s nothing wrong with that, Rei!” “I’m not saying there is,” Rei protested, “it’s just not what I want to do.” “I know, you want to be a teacher, but I just don’t…well…you can’t be a teacher for another nine years, what if by then they don’t let women be teachers anymore?” A silence fell over the room as both mother and daughter felt the weight of that thought. It was a legitimate concern. “I don’t know, Mom,” Rei said at last, sounding crestfallen. “But what am I supposed to do?” Ms. Akiyama frowned. Like most mothers, deep down she just wanted her child to be happy. Part of her really wished her child could have her dream, but most of her knew it simply wasn’t meant to be and there was nothing that could change that. Most of her just wanted to help Rei find another way to be happy. Without a word, Ms. Akiyama rose from the table and cleared their plates. Breakfast was clearly over. On her way out of the kitchen, she lightly ruffled Rei’s hair, “Go on,” she said, “enjoy your snow day, okay? But just…think about the extended high school program?” Rei nodded.
  11. Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to a break with social normities. These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Chastity and forced crossdressing Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults Punishments (often unfair, degrading, and/or humiliating) Experimentation on humans Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of expletives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Political themes associated with revolutions or desires of change or freedoms Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific acts to anything overtly sexual; however, some fetishes maybe touched on in this story more than my previous ones. Still, as usual, this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list here is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be warranted later if needed (though may not be added). If I deem any chapters to be too ‘triggering,’ I will issue another separate warning beforehand. Hey everyone! Welcome back to my little story corner on here. As I noted last time, this story is all about a maturity reform center for boys in a sort of alternative future from our own. Everything basically gets explained in the first chapter, so don’t worry there if you might be confused at all about this notion. It’s pretty easy, but for those of you wondering, I’m not going to lie… the phrase ‘girls rule, boys drool,’ is pretty apt for this story. Keep that in mind with this society’s mindset and a lot of things here will make more sense at least. Fair or logical from our own viewpoints may not always be accurate. Moving on, I do have to give credit where credit is due though. I saw this idea from a post that has been long deleted from ‘nomorepantsforme.’ I’m not even entirely sure it was their original idea either, but I want to give the acknowledgement where I can at least, since I really just couldn’t pass up the framework that I saw that day. I would gladly link the website where I originally saw these images posted, but it was a Tumblr account, and well… I’m pretty sure you all know what happened to it at this point. Still, I’ve expanded the story a lot since those initial postings, and everything pretty much takes on a life of its own after chapter three basically. Considering there are at least 36 chapters right now and this story takes place across a period of over three years during the plot, I would say buckle up, but I guess in the case for most of you, maybe get someone else who you trust to do that for you. All joking aside though, this story will take a bit of time to completely finish and put out on here. I definitely don’t have as much time as I used to, and that’s unfortunate, but I will work on this story as much as I can. I’ve already completed several sections, and I’ve got the plot all mostly ironed out by now, so that should make things easier, but I would just ask for your patience at this point. I can’t stick to a schedule, so I would just suggest staying vigilant for further updates. Looking ahead though, I will post another poll with the next chapter for the story you wish for me to write next. While some of you expressed a desire to move on away from the Strawpoll website where I posted the last poll, I think it was just too successful to stop it completely. I am still curious though about everyone’s continued thoughts, so I have left this poll up (which can be found at https://strawpoll.com/05ZdzWkrbn6). All that being said, if any of you wish to privately message me or post directly on here regarding your desires about polling or even my next story, I would count and read those responses/comments as well. Still, improvements to this system can always be made and I’m pretty open minded, so if any of you have a suggestion for polling in a different way for future stories, I’m very open to any ideas. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter of this next story of mine! Chapter 1: Departure Day I clicked the recording the device, cleared my voice, and spoke up. “I’m an average guy in an average city who once lived an average life. I obeyed the law, never stood out from the crowd, and minded my own business as much as I could. I followed the rules and stayed out of trouble. For all intents and purposes, I never expected myself to be at the center of a sweeping change and then be asked to talk about it.” I paused and stopped the recording. Shuffling in my seat, a slight crinkle could be heard, but that was just everyday life for me now. I strained and looked back at Laura. “Is that okay? Do you think that’s what they want?” She smiled and nodded. “Of course. The people interested in how this whole thing went down just want to have a record of what happened. Lots of changes and all and your experiences should be recorded for future posterity. With everything that happened, someone is bound to ask questions about it all one day. So, my suggestion… there is no right and wrong. Just say what you think, sweetie.” I smiled back at her, her help through all this a constant in my life still, sighed, and then turned back to the recording device. I knew someone else would already be condensing my thoughts down later. Especially considering what had happened to me, Laura had suggested the recording device rather than me writing everything down. Writing everything down like that was just a bit too hard timing-wise these days… plus how I got here in the first place wasn’t helping matter either. I was already getting hungry for my midday snack... Still, I had to press on while everything was still fresh in my head. So, taking Laura’s advice, I pushed the recording button once more. I sighed again and leaned back into my chair. “Well, I could start earlier and explain a bit, but I suppose ‘Departure Day’ was where everything truly changed for me…” * * * The day is here at last and now there’s no more waiting. I’m 18, graduated from high school, and now it’s late August. Before everything changed a few years back, for someone like me, that meant a job, travelling the world, or college. It was a mark of maturity for everyone in this country or at least a sign that one’s life was moving forward. Now, however, being a guy, this time of year in my life can only mean one thing for me. I’m headed to a center, or what the government calls a ‘Juvenile Evaluation Center for All Males,’ located somewhere within 100 miles of me right now. Each had a different name and even reputation, but my fate to at least one of them was already sealed. And here I was all this time in my life over the past year, thinking that stupid law would be repealed by the time I reached 18 and then hit the beginning of the term in late August of the same year. I think every guy my age hoped the same thing… I mean, forcibly take a bunch of 18-year-old males and test their maturity as a barrier to enter society as an adult, or if they fail… then something else. A law like that in the ‘land of the free’ just had to be repealed. ‘Right?’ Wrong. Apparently fifteen years of a law enacted was just the right amount of time where most were still happy about the perceived benefits of the law, and any who weren’t, could still be told to ‘just give the law some more time to sink in’ and hope that later, it would become more normalized. Anyone told that last part wasn’t holding their breath… including me, especially now on ‘Departure Day.’ See, before fifteen years ago, no one had ever been to one of these centers, but now, every year after a male turned 18, they got sent off to a center and evaluated for their maturity the following August, whether they wanted to or not. Refusal meant an outright failure, so rebels against the law had almost altogether disappeared in the past 15 years. It was a harsh punishment and sentence for even those of us who went willingly, but everyone knew that if the given male candidate could pass, they would leave the center with a wealth of new information, a career path to a near guaranteed success, and a continuance of education or an already lined-up job fitting with the passion or vocation that they had chosen at the center. It was a mighty reward that ensured society’s continued success, here and even all around the world in most countries now, but for the less optimistic, rowdy, or fortunate bunch regarding their fate, they always knew about option B. Like an axe waiting to strike above our necks, option B always lingered there. A sudden breeze jostled through the open window in my family’s modest house located out in the suburbs. My parents, Henry and Emma, had married a year after college and found two successful jobs: a structural engineer for my mom and a landscape designer for my dad. They raised three kids as normally as possible, and we all lived perfectly normally until four years ago; a picture in the hallway still marked that day, which is where I now found myself lost in thoughts. “Are you tired and need a break from your regressed little one…” I quickly blocked out the noise coming from the family room where my dad was watching the last few minutes of the football game, now interrupted by an all-too-familiar commercial of the past 15 years, highlighting just how common the practice was now. I still found it weird that they hadn’t changed it since the law was first enacted, but by now, it was really more of a PSA than a strict commercial to convince people to comply with the law. Still, despite society’s more or less compliance these days and that the law might have even been seen as a common practice these days, it was an almost unmentionable topic in most households that had one son under 18… including this one. After all, the potential regression of a member of the family could be touchy for everyone involved. So, my family never talked about it… well, except for that one time… * * * My older brother, Ben, had gone to the center himself on his ‘Departure Day’ over two years ago. Like before, he had come back from the center to celebrate Thanksgiving with us, but unlike his usual upbeat and positive self, this time, we could all tell he was worried about something. Mom had been pestering him the whole time about his experience at the center, but he had remained continuously tight-lipped about it in front of anyone who dared ask. His face would darken for a moment, he would snap at us, and we would all move on. Two minutes later, it was like it had never happened. Still, I was just starting out in high school and a morbid curiosity burned within me to know more. Seeing the PSAs and the like about what was potentially going on there, I didn’t want to ask too many questions myself out loud. I was going in four years whether I liked it or not and knew I would find out then. Despite the questions buzzing around in my head, I didn’t need Ben to add to them to my steadily growing fears. Right after we gave our usual beginning thanks, we were just passing around the turkey and mashed potatoes, when he asked the question that we had all been dreading since he had first left. “Are you all actually okay with this whole regression law?” Mom’s face went white. Katie, our younger sister, forcibly busied herself with her cranberries, and Dad seemed sad all of a sudden. Again, fearing my own fate, I made sure I took a quick bite of stuffing to keep from saying my own feelings on the subject while also keeping an open ear to maybe slake one of the questions in my head. Regardless of the palpable tension though, no one spoke, so, the room remained quiet for an uncomfortably long period. Already starting to form a bit of an attitude towards these things though, Katie finally spoke up. “I think it can be sad but maybe also a good thing?” I wanted to break every one of her Barbies right then. She was a good kid, annoying, but kind in her own younger sister kind of way. ‘But this?’ She was a girl, which meant she could go and do what she wanted whenever she wanted to do it. The world was her oyster, but for me and Ben… it was a different matter altogether. “I agree with you sweetie,” my mom then interjected. “If it’s done right, and everyone’s happy, in the end, does it matter how?” My heart formed a tiny pencil-width crack. She had always supported Ben, Katie, and I in whatever we did, but now… I wasn’t so sure if she was on our side anymore. If this stupid law went the wrong way for either Ben or I, she would essentially be losing the sons that she and Dad had raised. If the worst happened, anything that had happened before would have just felt more like window dressing… ready to be removed and forgotten about forever when the time came to revert back to how we once were. Hayden down the street was a year ahead of Ben and seeing him as I went to school this year… my fears had started that night. “Darn right it matters!” My dad obviously had an opinion about the whole thing, and I felt a little justice on Ben and I’s side for once tonight in this whole matter, but the room quickly filled with a mounting argument on either side as well. “In my day, you grew one way, and that was toward the sky and then down to the grave. Not this grow up, grow down, then grow sideways business.” No one dared argue with him when he got like this. He was the best dad, but his stubbornness in certain matters was legendary. Finally, though, Ben broke the silence that had persisted since Dad had shouted out his opinion. “Good to know, Dad. Hard to argue with that logic I guess.” Ever the peace maker, I could tell that Ben just wanted the conversation to move on. Still, he then shifted his gaze toward me, “What about you little bro? You seem awfully quiet over there.” Everyone’s gaze suddenly fixated on me, and I shrunk back instinctively. I hated being the certain of attention, but I knew that the sooner I answered, the sooner all this could just be over with. “I… I guess I just don’t know,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. “I guess if you’re happy with it, being in it yourself, then that’s what matters now. Honestly though… I just try not to think about it. Why worry about something that’s far off in the future for me, right?” I was lying through my teeth, but I didn’t want to admit to my family that I was outright terrified of the day I would leave for the center as well. I think Ben could tell I had just lied, but he didn’t push the matter any further. So, the conversation ended quickly after that, and it took a dirty joke from my sister and scolding from my mother for the family to begin to crack a smile again that night. * * * It wasn’t even the longest of conversations in the family, but that short period of time had lingered in my mind ever since then. It popped into my head every once in a while, but since I had graduated a few months ago, I could barely think of anything else. Even while we were all at the beach last month, it was hard to pull my eyes away from all the guys who had obviously gone through option B. Waddling around and looking no better than… ‘I just can’t say it…’ But I could see them clearly and I dreaded to think that one day, I could be just like them. ‘Shit! Stupid option B. Friggin’ crappy law!’ I tried to distract myself from thinking about that day at the beach again, but in this house, my averted gaze proved useless. Unfortunately, one only needed to view our neighbor playing in the front yard across the street to know just how bad things could get if one failed the program. Fortunately, though, after his three years at the center, my brother had apparently managed to avoid every outcome of option B, left the center, and then had never looked back or even talked about his time there. My mom had asked once for more details once he had graduated fully, but based on his own dirty look, she knew well enough to never ask again. Still, he had graduated. Determined to make the most of his life, since he had graduated from the center, he had taken his training at the center in stride and then took the remaining required courses at college and became a chemical engineer at a major company in the city. He didn’t live with us anymore but would still visit occasionally; like birthdays, holidays, and the occasional pre-planned stop and say ‘hi’, eat dinner with us, quickly catch up on everything, and then leave once more type of visit. My thoughts of my older brother’s success were soon interrupted by a loud screech outside. Knowing that sound anywhere by now, I quickly rushed to the front window. Of course, for Ben, he would also come on specialty days…like today, now commonly known as ‘Departure Day.’ As I quickly looked out into the street where I saw he had stopped and parked his used 2028 blue glow metallic Chevy Trailblazer, I could see him exit his pride and joy once more. Our parents bought that car for him in high school, I think honestly as a way for him to help with errands more than his own amusement at the time, but back then I honestly cared more about riding in the front seat at that point than the logistics of why. Further, I had even saved it and maintained it with Dad for him when he left the center. It was a symbol of hope of better days and its arrival her couldn’t have come sooner. Despite my feelings toward the car, our parents had been worried during those three years that he was away at the center, especially where they had noticed… changes, but through it all, that car stood as a testament to his success and our hope of him passing. So, him coming back, it was a wonderful feeling when he finally pocketed the keys after so long and then took off for college with a noted swell of happiness all around him. Since then, our family had always joked and been curious if he cared more about leaving that place or just seeing his old car again. Still, my thoughts quickly shifted back to Ben today as he trudged through the lawn and wore his usual khakis and button-down shirt, a lanyard now hanging and bobbing off his neck and body with each step from his job in the city. His normally neutral, or at least reassuring face, stood grim and lost in thought. It was an unusual look for him after the center and the subsequent posting to his new job, but I quickly recognized it as his typical reaction to anything to do with the center. Intrigue had run rampant through my mind before with what had happened to him there, but now, being less than an hour from my own ‘Departure Day,’ that look on his face only twisted up my stomach in fear as I opened the door to greet him. Upon seeing me at the door, however, his expression soon changed to the softer and more welcoming expression I had come to know since he had graduated. For today, though I still questioned his previous look, his usual demeanor was a comfort to me in a way I could never fully explain, but gladly accepted, nonetheless. “Hey there bro! You waiting for your older brother to give you one last nuggie for the road?” Not having time to mount an objection from me, he lunged, bolted past the door, and quickly grabbed me, and proceeded to ruffle and give me his usual annoying but loving nuggie to my hair; a tradition of ours since I had at least tried to start competing with him after I entered middle school. “Ah, quit it, you big loaf!” I growled, trying to swat his large hands off me and away from my head. He stood at a decent and even six feet tall, while I had inherited my mother’s side genes and stood just shy of only five foot eight inches without much chance by now of stretching any higher. “What’s the magic word?” he lovingly but mockingly asked. “Please,” I gasped. With his usual chuckle, he let me go and semi-twirled me to face back at him. Sputtering for a second, I tried to motor my way through our greeting to think about anything else other than the center. “It’s good to see you, bro. How’ve you been? It’s been a few weeks now since we last talked. Work? Date? Is she hot? Does she have a younger sister or some younger friends who don’t mind vertically challenged company? Spill. Come on, don’t leave me hanging!” Ben quickly took on a defensive posture. “Woah, woah, woah there. Slow down.” We both grinned at each other. “It’s nothing really. Honestly, it’s just work for me, buddy. I’ve been working on a project for a new government contract, and it’s been taking all my time up lately.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in toward me, “I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, but if this thing works, dirty fuel emissions will be knocked down another 30% in a few years’ time and run at least 80% more efficiently without being more dangerous or resource dependent.” “Woah,” I whispered back, reciprocating his lean in. “That’s really cool. Did you find some alien tech or something?” Ben gave me his usual crooked smile whenever I made one of my cornier jokes. My brand of humor annoyed him when we were younger, but ever since the institute, he seemed to not mind as much anymore. “Nah, we just took some of the existing fuel, ran it through a mesh fiber we just developed…” Ben continued on like that for a bit. Science was always his strong suit, even before the center, high school, or even middle school for that matter. He was the kid who asked for a microscope for Christmas and then proceeded to actually use it, rather than just collect dust in a closet somewhere like mine had done when I was ten. Still, despite my lack of scientific talent, I was proud of him for what he was doing, and further on a day like today, it gave me a bit of hope I would be just as successful in my own way after the center, rather than be doomed for option B. “…and that’s it. Nothing else to it,” he finally finished. “Right… simple,” I mocked. “Let me just call Curie or Einstein to translate for me, and we’ll call it simple then.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Haha. Well, maybe you’re right for just this once about what I’m doing lately.” His eyes shifted and his crooked smile returned. “Who knows? Maybe little green men did lend me a bit of a hand this go around.” We both got a good chuckle out of that. It reminded me of how much I missed having my brother around, and maybe it was the prospect of me leaving for three years with few visits to my family in between, but I was feeling his absence more lately. His subsequent return today had elevated that feeling even more. See, I tended to close up around new people unfortunately, but I compensated for it later by usually being far more outgoing with people once I got to know them. It wasn’t always easy, but I never really had to try too hard with Ben. I had always known my brother, and despite a few arguments now and then, I knew I could always count on him and that had been a safety net for me for years now, even when he was at the center. Unfortunately, the back of my mind rationalized that after today, I was about to go to a place where few of those longer-term relationships could even be possible. I knew, especially without seeing my brother very often, I would have to try even harder with anyone I met at the center. “Earth to John. Earth to John. Calling John Clark,” my brother echoed, trying to get my attention and even going so far as to snap his fingers in front of my face. I quickly saw his snapping hand wave in front of my face, and I quickly exited my previous thoughts. I hadn’t realized I had been drifting away so badly. “Huh? Oh… yeah… crud, you say something?” Ben rolled his eyes again. “Nothing really.” He sighed. “I was just seeing if I had lost my brother in some kind of trance or whatnot. I mean, you were really in the zone there for a minute. Where’d you go? Everything okay?” “It’s…it’s nothing,” I shuffled my feet and averted his gaze. My lying game was not on point, and I knew Ben could see right through me… he always did. Still, I didn’t want him to know I was terrified about what was about to happen to me. Luck was never one of my strong suits, and in a place like the center… from what I could find out, I knew you needed a hefty chunk of luck in your back pocket to get through it. “Right… and Dad’s not going to burn anything he puts in the oven this year.” His sarcasm practically screamed at me. We both knew full-well that our dad was infamous for burning anything and everything he ever put in the oven at least. He was a master griller, but at one point, the fire department knew us by our first names growing up when mom ever went on one of her business trips. Despite some of those dinners being ruined, I looked back at that time and by now it was almost comforting to know some things would never change. At the same time though, with his sarcasm, I knew that I had been caught in my lie. “Come on, John. It’s me here. What’s up?” Ben asked, now placing a hand on my shoulder. Again, I didn’t want to show my fear, but I knew that of everyone in this house, Ben might be the only one who actually got what I was feeling and going through today. “It’s… it’s the center.” Ben’s hand dropped from my shoulder and his face clouded over again at the mention of that place, adding further knots to my already twisted stomach. I didn’t want to tell him, knowing that would have been his reaction, but I also knew my time was running out. I almost tried to take it back, but Ben sighed and then took a big breath. “Look, about that place... There’s something you should know...” I leaned in closer. “The heads of the departments, the guy in charge, anyone who can move some minds there… they’re important.” It was an odd way to put that, but I leaned in, wanting to know more. If I could have an advantage going in, I knew I needed to exploit it as soon as possible. “Why? What do you mean, and why them?” “That place is…complicated.” His eyes briefly looked like they were miles away and I wondered what he was thinking back on. “I don’t know which center you’re going to exactly with all the new ones they’ve been building around here lately, but they’re all about the same, at least with their end goals. To get out of there, all you need to do is…” “Eeeeeeee! He’s here! He’s here!” a voice shouted from above us. I didn’t need to see a face to know where that sound came from; I had lived with it for the past 15 years and two weeks. It was my baby sister, Katie, and she still was at least excited to see Ben when he came over. To be honest though, while Katie and I were closer when we were younger, we had both drifted apart during the past few years. I think she was still too immature for me, and I was probably too overbearing for her, but she was still family… which made some of her new views even harder to cope with though. Digging deeper, I knew part of the tension between us had come from her being a girl and me being a boy. That argument probably sounded stupid and even immature, but like I had thought on Thanksgiving, it meant a great bit of difference in the modern age. Those not strictly identifying with one gender or another were given tests in the years leading up to their own ‘Departure Day.’ A few guys even tried to ‘fake’ identifying as girls initially, but after they were caught, they were sent straight to the center and were ‘deemed perfect for one of the punishments there,’ or at least that’s what made the papers from a statement the judge had made at the end of their trial. No one but the accused and their families knew what that meant exactly, but the government had assured everyone that ‘they had gotten what they deserved.’ Regardless though, gender mattered in this new world of ours. “I can’t believe he actually made it!” She sounded so triumphant, and I briefly wondered if she was looking forward to essentially being an only child in this house for the next few years. Being the youngest, she didn’t have it the easiest growing up with two older brothers, but her life was infinitely easier than Ben’s had been and mine was about to be, so I never felt guilty when Mom or Dad took Ben or I’s side when we were growing up. “You think you would have learned some timeliness when you were at the center, huh?” I could hear Ben’s clenched fist crack a bit, but I could also see he was desperately trying to not make a scene with her on my big day. Still, her comment struck me hard as why this whole mess had started in the first place. Simply put, males had been deemed too much of a problem for society as a whole, call it genetics or hunting instincts or whatever, but the government decided that it was best for the new generations to be put through a test of sorts. If they passed, they would be ahead of where they might have otherwise been, but if they failed, society could deal with them accordingly and ‘neutralize the threat.’ Or that’s at least that’s how they justified the law initially. It was a close vote, but the law had passed. Women, like my sister or my childhood crush and neighbor, Laura, could do anything they wanted after they graduated high school. Most ended up in prominent positions and few ever thought of repealing the laws once they were in power. For the men who eventually passed, they had the same opportunities, but oddly, they never seemed to want to repeal the law either. I always wondered why, but being my ‘Departure Day’ already, I knew I couldn’t fight what was coming. “Oh, hush Katie! He’s here and that’s the important thing.” My mom shuffled from the back of the house where she had been preparing cookies for my sister’s bake sale tomorrow and looked at us with a wide smile, as if she was relieved to know we were both still here. I glared at the mixing bowl in her arms, as I felt my sister should have been making her own cookies for the sale, but not wanting another argument with her about her apparent immaturity again, I had simply removed myself from the equation. Instead, I had tried to take the day to try and calm myself down, but with everything ahead of me and all my questions still, it hadn’t worked. “Henry! Henry!” my mom then called out to the backyard where my dad had been the sky, I knew it was likely just had to do with the rain coming later this afternoon. Another person might have gotten upset that the patriarch of the family would grumble about seeing his wife or his children, but it was just on brand for him. He loved us all in his own way, but as he had told us countless times before, rain and gardening were only good together if one didn’t have to weed in a downpour. As if thinking the same thing, Ben and I just scoffed under our breath over his delay in seeing us both, Ben for just arriving, me for leaving soon. Our mom turned back to us. She might have made an excuse if we were other company, but she just rolled her eyes and ran to hug Ben quickly. It was a nice little moment and not even my sister’s entrance and continued distance from both Ben and I, and then our dad’s grumbled annoyance could hurt that. We were all together today, and as my mom pointed out, it might not be like this for a while. I knew I was the reason for that, and my stomach ached a bit in fear over what was coming for me. “How about we take a picture?” Mom suggested. We had done the same thing with Ben, and as if to confirm her reasoning, she pointed to a nearby picture that we had taken on the day that he had left as well. It might have been a bit of a morbid tradition, but most families took one last photo nowadays… just in case. One only had to look outside at our neighbors across the street, the Killian’s, to understand just how much things could change from one’s ‘Departure Day’ to the end of it all. “Alright everyone,” Dad said after setting up the camera on top of the tripod. He liked things old school sometimes, and his 2019 camera was a perfect example of that. Mom always suggested the digital camera on her phone instead, since it was much faster, but he always insisted for moments like these that an ‘actual camera’ was better. “I’ve got a five second delay and… Ben.” Mom and I shot our looks to my older brother. He was playing around with Katie’s hair, clearly trying to get a rise out of her. “You stop that right now,” Mom scolded to him. “You know better than anyone that we don’t have much time today.” Ben’s hand snapped back to his side, and his head drooped down slightly. “Right. Sorry…” Again, I could see that same look of repressed pain on his face. ‘I’d give anything to know his thoughts right now…’ Still, our dad just grumbled a bit and then clicked the photo before running over to the other side of our mom. “Alright. Chins up and smile this time everyone!” Not wanting to waste any more time, we all behaved perfectly and made sure one shot was all it took. Running back, our dad gave a thumbs up and the family dispersed for a moment. Looking at the time myself, I knew the bus would be here soon for my ‘Departure Day.’ I saw it pass by every year, but I knew that today was my turn. So, wanting to make sure everything was packed, I went back up to my room. Not ten minutes later, I heard a knock at my door. “Come in.” I was hoping it was Ben so that maybe I could ask him some more questions like I was going to before our sister interrupted and alerted everyone that he was here, but it was only my mom. “Everything packed already?” she asked, her worried expression coming through clearly. She had already gone through this before and she probably knew the statistics weren’t on my side. It was estimated that at least one of every three guys that went into the program failed it. My brother had passed, and while I could still be the one that made it, my odds weren’t as good now. Zipping my single suitcase, I nodded. “Yeah… I just wanted to check I had everything that was on the list again.” I gestured to my bed where a single white paper was, listing the school supplies and what I should bring or not bring. It was just one of the questions I had for Ben… I wondered why things like clothing had to be kept at home. “Doesn’t seem like much, huh?” My mom had helped me a bit with the list, but I had insisted on maintaining some independence with it and purchased most of the things myself. I could tell that her seeing my packed bag now was already starting to get to her. “Yeah… but it’s not forever, right?” I wanted to stay hopeful for her, even if I wasn’t myself, but my mom’s expression still remained fearful and full of worry. “Right… right. It’s not forever…” She and Ben had gotten closer during his time at the center, and for the first time, I wondered if she actually knew more about his time there than the rest of us. I wanted to ask today again, but when I first did on the day I got my acceptance letter, she had quickly shut me down, calling their moments ‘private.’ She didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night, so not wanting to repeat that, I remained silent. “Well, let me help you bring your bag downstairs at least,” she offered. Seeing it as allowing her to be part of this day in her own way, I let her do that much at least. Downstairs, Ben and Dad were already waiting by the front door and were debating about postage and a forwarding address. “No, he’s going to be the one near Dawsonville,” Dad argued. “No way. I was sent there and that was already a few years ago. There’s no way he would be sent to that one.” Ben seemed supremely confident in his answer, but I knew that neither really knew. “Way more likely to be near Judgeton.” “But that’s on the other side of the city!” my mom shrieked, now clearly listening in, nearly dropping my suitcase from the shock of me being even further away than Ben had been. “Maybe it’s Smacktown,” my sister calmly suggested, flipping through another page of her teen romance novel while sitting nearby in the living room. “I think you mean Smeckton, Katie…” my brother corrected. “Whatever…” Our sister quickly dove right back into her book, not caring if she was right or wrong. “You don’t really think he’ll be sent to that one, do you, Ben?” my mom asked worriedly. Ben hesitated, Mom seemed petrified, and Dad stayed eerily silent. The silence was nearly killing me, and I had enough with the questions already bubbling up inside of me. I wanted… needed to know why everyone was acting so strange about Smeckton. I needed one less question in my head before I left. “Hold on… what’s wrong with that place? Is there something I should know?” Everyone squirmed for a moment, but Ben ultimately sighed and came over to me before placing his hand on my shoulder like he usually did to comfort me. “I’m not sure I should even be telling you this… probably not even going there, but because you asked… the Smeckton center is one of the original locations. It’s far away from pretty much everywhere except the town of Smeckton. It’s…” Ben quickly looked distant as if recalling an old painful memory. “Well, it’s strict.” I could then see the flash of panic in his eyes, and I wanted to know more, but by then, I knew my questions would either kill my nerves or only lead to more questions. Truth is though, no one knew where I was headed until I sent them a letter the first day. For all anyone knew, I could be sent to the center up North by Suttonburg, or the one to the west beyond the mountains in Diana City, or one of the several others within 200 miles of here, the max radial distance as required by law now. Looking down at my feet now, I was reminded by how little I actually knew going into the center. Seeing my single suitcase next to them, all I really knew was that I could pack it and a single backpack with whatever non-banned items, such as the usual cadre of weapons, drugs, and all, that I could stuff in there. Further, no cell phones were allowed, and the school would provide a tablet with a keyboard to be used for the duration of my time there that they would heavily monitor. Normally, if this was some horror movie, that would have been a giant red flag and I would be screaming at the main character to bail as soon as possible, but going to the center was the law now, so my red flags had to be damned. Regardless, I lastly knew that before 1 PM, a bus or van would show up and take me away. Everything else I knew was only rumors, mostly pertaining to option B, and I didn’t want to dwell on those for very long. It turns out I didn’t even have long to dwell on my thoughts even if I wanted to. Just as the clock chimed to announce that it was 12:30, the screeching of van tires could be heard outside. All jokes and conversations going on around me instantly died. We all looked to the front of the house with dread. While my brother’s tires an hour ago now had screeched and seemed to represent a hope or a sense of life and joy, this screech seemed more like the pained echo of the death of all hope, like some wailing spirit from the bowels of all that was bad in the world. Gulping, I went to the window first and pulled back the curtain to confirm that my greatest fear so far in life had now arrived and was waiting to take me away. The tiny bus was white and painted with the official logo for the ‘Juvenile Evaluation Center for All Males’ organization. Like the pale horse of death, it was coming to take me away to my ultimate doom. Though it was never actively talked about, that van was the source of nightmares all around the world for any guy who had just turned 18. With its arrival at their house, the horrors of fate of every guy out there now came as well. Even the guys who eventually passed had to go through this particular gauntlet and whether they admitted it or not… doubt crept into everyone’s minds who stepped onboard. What awaited us on the other side when we eventually exited that van was a mystery to anyone who hadn’t lived it. For those that made it, like my brother, they never talked about it. So, for someone like me, it only made things worse. “It’s here…” My words tumbled out of my mouth like I was announcing that the executioner had just arrived and was ready to lop off my head for committing treason. My family looked equally pained… almost as if they were never going to see me again. Still, our mom quickly launched into me and gave me a huge hug. Our dad soon followed, and even Ben and Katie joined in as well. It was supposed to be comforting, but not even remembering the last time every single member of my family hugged me… it didn’t help my nerves. Finally, though, the bus honked, and everyone let me go. “I guess I’ll see you all at Thanksgiving, right?” I wasn’t even sure about that at this point. Apparently, some didn’t even last that long in the program. “We will, but until then, keep your chin up, John,” my dad said with a swill of pained emotion in his voice. “Listen to them but don’t let them get to you.” “He’s right,” Ben added. “Just follow the rules, and before you know it, it will be done and will just seem like a bad dream.” His old look of pain resurfaced again, and I felt that blasted queasy feeling in my stomach bubble up once more as well. My mom, tears beginning to form in her eyes, gave me a small plastic bag full of homemade cookies. “For the road,” she said, seemingly only seconds away from losing it altogether. “Share them with anyone on there. Try and make a friend early…” she dabbed her eyes briefly. “But we’ll see you soon, okay? We love you.” Not able to form any words at all anymore, I just nodded and turned to my sister. For once in a long time, I didn’t see annoyance in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, but she then finally spoke up at last. “Just make it home again, okay?” Abrupt and not really comforting but caring in her own way. It was something, so not really sure what else to do, I simply nodded again and tuned back to everyone else. I cleared my throat and finally found my words again. “Well, wish me luck and see you all soon… I love you all…” It felt like such a weak goodbye, but I could feel my fear gurgling up in my body already and another honk signaled my need to leave anyways. I needed to keep it together, and by now, even if the driver hadn’t just honked again, I knew that I just needed to get on the bus and leave quickly. Prolonging the goodbye was just painful now. So, I donned my previously packed backpack, grabbed my single suitcase, and headed out the door. I then quickly rushed to the bus handed the driver the pass that had been sent to me in the mail last month along with the checklist of what I could, couldn’t, and had to bring with me. “John Clark?” the bus driver asked gruffly as I stood in front of the open door after giving him my ticket. I quickly nodded my head and kept my mouth shut. “Good.” He then placed my ticket in a bin next to him and turned back to me. “No funny business once you’re on board, ya’ hear? One step out of line and you start the center with one giant demerit.” His eyes glared for a moment and then oddly became softer. “Trust me, kid. You don’t want that. Those who start off with that almost never make it to the end.” I gulped but still nodded. “Y… yes, sir. No funny business from me. I swear.” A small grin appeared on his face, and he used his thumb to point to the back of the bus. “Good. Now, wave bye to your family and find a seat in the back. You have 30 seconds.” Not even thinking, I turned back to my family, all still huddled on the front porch, and gave them one last goodbye wave. I knew that it was the last time I was going to see them until the first holiday break over Thanksgiving. It was the longest stretch of time away from home at the center on average, but still, I couldn’t help but drift away from all that and feel a little strange about not seeing Laura or any of my other friends here to wave me off like Ben’s had. I was comforted in the fact that I had said goodbye to each of them already. I also knew Laura had already headed off to college and per the law, my friends were going to their own separate locations, but all this still felt strange. It didn’t feel like my life or that all this was even real, but as soon as I neared the bus and saw a few passengers already seated there as well… somehow, everything began hitting me all at once that all this was very much my new life and not just some horrible dream. Coming out of my thoughts and seeing my family still, I could already tell that mom was starting to break down and that Ben and Dad were trying to comfort her. It wasn’t the cheeriest of goodbyes, but still, it felt nice when each, even Katie, waved back to me and flashed me symbols of love and luck. It was a nice moment, but with the clock counting down and the bus already humming back to life, I waved one last time and then found a spot in the back. A sputter and a small screech later, the bus was off, and my old life was left in the dust behind me. About 20 minutes later, we had picked up two other guys and were now headed into the mountains to the west of the city. ‘Definitely not Dawsonville then…’ I sat back and tried to put my own fears out of my mind as buildings and main highways soon gave way to trees, hills, and valleys. “Name’s Bill.” The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, but I then saw a red headed guy looking right back at me. I then saw his hand arched back over the seat and extended right to me. “Oh, uh, I’m John.” I quickly shook his head. “Good to meet you.” “Hey,” another voice to my left called out. “I’m Luke.” Bill and I turned over to him. His letter jacket seemed an odd choice to bring, since everything would either be burned or shipped back to our houses, but admittedly, there was a part of me that wondered if it was almost like his safety net against whatever was coming or a reminder of better times. Still, Bill and I smiled and quickly welcomed another into our midst. Likely sharing the same apprehensions about where we were headed, we quickly bonded, though admittedly, Mom’s cookies also helped smooth things along. “So, any guess as to why the roommate agreement we signed said, ‘until graduation or one of you departs?’” I had wondered the same thing myself, but it had been a question I was definitely too nervous to even attempt to ask Ben about. “I don’t know… kind of didn’t want to think about it.” “Fair enough,” Bill noted. “I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. I’ve seen some of the older guys in my neighborhood and well…” Luke and I nodded. We both knew what he was implying. “Same here,” Luke said quickly. “This one guy still wets the bed in my neighborhood. Apparently, his parents still consider him a ‘good’ outcome. How messed up is that?” “Very,” Bill agreed. Both turned to me, waiting for my answer, but I couldn’t help but feel differently… As if fate was stepping in, I quickly saw a sign for products to help caregivers with those who had failed the program and were doomed to option B. It was a cheery and even gaudy display of their products with a guy posed off to the side seemingly enjoying them. It stood in stark contrast to the dark and swirling clouds behind it. “Well, all things in perspective, I think it is actually…” I said, turning back to the two guys who I hoped would be my friends. Unfortunately, both looked at me like I had bugs crawling from my ears. “Still messed up, definitely, but… it could be a lot worse.” “Worse than bedwetting?” Luke seemed shocked, but Bill remained quiet for a moment. I thought back to his earlier reference to the older guys in his neighborhood. I nodded. “Much worse.” I sighed and specifically remembered the Killian’s. “My neighbors… we were really close with them. My older brother, Ben, was about as old as their only kid, Franklin, so they became friends pretty quickly growing up. Got even closer when Ben was there for him when his dad died.” “So, what does that have to do with this whole thing?” Luke asked impatiently. “Well,” I continued, “they went to the center together. Lasted over two years even, but then, one day, Ben came home… Franklin didn’t.” “What happened?” I could already hear the nervousness in Bill’s question. He had every right to be and I suspected that despite his question, he already knew the answer. “Ben graduated,” I said, with a feeling of hope that maybe I could as well, but that hope was also dashed because of Franklin. “Franklin didn’t. And now… he spends his days like any other diaper-filling and drooling toddler out there who went with option B… and that’s on his good days. So yeah… considering what could happen, bedwetting isn’t too bad.” Ben and Luke seemed horrified about that outcome and sat back in their own seats, too shocked to say anything more. I had forgotten that outcomes like those weren’t exceedingly common everywhere, but it was a reality that I knew everyone on the bus would have to come to grips with it sooner or later. As if on cue, lightning thundered in the distance as we rounded a corner, and my eyes turned to the distant rocky peaks and curving road we were now on. Staring out, a sign soon came into my view. It was hard to see at first, but a closer flash of lightning illuminated the wording perfectly; Smeckton – 14 Miles… Smeckton Institute and Juvenile Evaluation Center for Males – 15 Miles. I gulped hard at the realization of where the bus was now headed. My pulse began to race, and I closed my eyes, trying to shut out this new piece of bad news. This blasted program was bad enough, but from the little of what Ben had told me about Smeckton… my odds for passing, if its apparent reputation was anything to go off, had just plummeted. I hadn’t even made it to the center yet and already my luck was turning sour. I couldn’t imagine lasting another three years, but I knew that I had to try at least.
  12. Four-year-old Macy is a big girl who just about mastered the potty. The only thing standing in her way are the diapers that she still needs to wear every night. But when she has a huge accident during New Year’s Eve, this got her thinking about wearing diapers more often. Macy’s potty training begins to get flushed down the toilet as she begins to have accident after accident. With the return to diapers eminent for Macy, how does she handle the adjustment in going back to diapers? Will she try to get her big girl underwear back or give up potty training forever? Chapter 1: Use the Potty Hi! I don’t think that I have seen you before, but my name is Macy Robbins. I would like to share with you how I spent my childhood wearing diapers, and all of the things that I experienced when I was growing up. Now I know that when I was growing up, most kids my age did not wear diapers. They wore big boy underwear if they were a boy and big girl underwear if they were a girl. So, how did I end up wearing diapers? It’s a very crazy story, and a rather long one, but I promise you that it’s good. Pinky promise. I will start my story where it all started when I was two years old. Back then, I lived with my family. I lived with two older brothers. An eight-year-old brother named Jake and a four-year-old brother named Randy. I liked Jake better since he was always nice to me, and he played with me sometimes. Randy on the other hand was a meanie. He always took my toys when I wasn’t looking and blamed me whenever he got in trouble. Jake always stood up for me whenever Randy was in the room, but Randy always tried to argue with Jake. I didn’t like the arguments, so I usually tried to stay away from them when they argued. I lived in a nice house with my mommy and daddy in Cincinnati that was right next to a golf course. I never understood golf growing up as it was just a game that grown-ups play by hitting little white balls with metal sticks. We also lived near a nice park that mommy and daddy took us to all the time. Mommy used to sell houses to people before my older brother Jake was born. My daddy makes a lot of money as a brain doctor. Another word for it is surgeon. He basically helps a lot of people with owwies in their head get better. I like how daddy is able to help so many people and it makes me happy. So how did I start wearing diapers? Well at this point, I have been wearing them since I was born. But this whole thing called potty training changed everything. And just two days after my second birthday, my mommy got me a little chair called the potty. I was supposed to pee in that, instead of my diaper. Now why did she want me to do that? She told me that it was all part of me becoming a “big girl”. I can vividly remember my first day of potty training, thanks to a journal that I kept when I was nine years old. “Macy dear,” my mommy told me. “Now that you are two years old, you are going to be potty trained. Be a good girl and use the potty.” I can remember just sitting on the seat while I still had my diaper on and looking back at my mommy with a pouty face. “No!” I told her defiantly. But my mommy knew the best way to motivate me. She gave me a smile. “Macy, for every time that you use the potty, I will give you one M&M…But you have to use the potty and not your diaper, okay?” That did it. M&M’s were the best thing in the world for me, so I wasted no time in using the potty whenever I could. Now I didn’t successfully use the potty right away. It took almost a week before I successfully used the potty. Mommy then gave me my first M&M. It was a red one and it was good. The other motivator for me using the potty was that my mommy took away my diapers and had me wear pull ups instead. This made me feel uncomfortable if I peed in my pull up, so I wanted to use the potty more and more. After six months of using the potty, I finally had no accidents in the daytime. So, about a couple of weeks after New Year’s Day, my mommy gave me my very first big girl underwear. They came in two colors: Bubblegum pink and blackberry purple. I was so proud of being able to wear my big girl underwear. I definitely felt like a big girl. Plus, my mommy kept giving me an M&M every time that I used the potty. However, I still needed to wear diapers every night. Even though I could hold it during the day, I always peed my diaper in my sleep. While I remained accident free during the day, a year later, I was still regularly having nighttime accidents in my diaper. It was mostly pee but was occasionally poop on occasion. When I got frustrated, my mommy told me not to worry about it and that I would grow out of it when I got older. At around this time, my mommy’s belly was huge. A few days later, we were in the hospital. My mommy gave birth to a new baby. It was a girl, and she named her Phoebe. I was so excited. I was going to be a big sister! But all of that excitement wore off two weeks later, when I discovered that my mommy was paying less attention to me. My little sister cried all the time and my mommy always had to feed her, change her diaper, or put her down for a nap. I was beginning to miss the attention that my mommy was giving me, so I began to pee my underwear on purpose. This happened for a couple of weeks before my mommy decided to put me back in diapers again. But this was only for a month. One month later, my mommy had an appointment with my pediatrician. She recommended that I get potty trained again and to pay more attention to me as my regression was caused due to the jealousy that I had towards the attention that my baby sister was now getting. About two months later, I was potty trained again, as my mommy doubled the M&M’s every time that I went both pee and poop in the potty. The reward for just going pee was still one M&M. I enjoyed my M&M’s as I successfully began to use the potty again. But I still kept peeing my diapers every night. That was something that hasn’t gone away. Even after my fourth birthday, I still needed to wear diapers at night. And as I began preschool, I began to make a lot of friends. When I had my first sleepover in the fall, I discovered that most of my friends were fully potty trained. I only knew about two or three that still needed to wear diapers at night. But by Christmas time, two of those three friends were fully potty trained. Christie and Susie both got to wear underwear at night while Cassie still needed to wear diapers at night like me. Christmas was a fun time that I spent at my grandma’s in Indiana. I had a lot of cousins, including two of them that were twin girls that were way older than me. After Christmas, it was now New Year’s Eve. My mommy cleaned the area between my legs and picked out my outfit for me to dress myself. At this age, I could finally wear all of the fun underwear that most kids get to wear when they are at the potty-training age. But since I was so small at two, I had to wear tiny underwear that fit my petite size. I put on my Anna and Elsa Frozen underwear and my pink dress. This day was going to be great, but I don’t think that I can stay up until midnight. My older brother Jake was playing a video game while Randy just watched. My little sister Phoebe was in her bedroom, taking a nap in her crib. I was about to go to my room and play with my dollhouse that I got for Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?
  13. Katie Ann What do you do when you look 7 years old, but you're actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen's entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn't the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her how she looks, 7 years old? By Becky Anne ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter One: The Website Nineteen-year-old Kathleen sat staring at her laptop, working on the courage to create an account and profile on the website she just found. She had found this website after taking out her frustrations on the Google search engine. Frustrations she acquired by rage quitting her multiplayer roleplayer game. Baron, her master in the game, turned out to be like most guys she has met online, only wanting sex, cybersex in Baron’s case. Submissive Match, the name of the website, kept staring at her from her purple laptop. It was distracting her from figuring out what she needed to acquire for her return to Mountain College. Not realizing she was doing it, she clicked the yellow create account button. Moving some of her auburn hair out of her view, she flipped back to her list of supplies needed for her return to college next month. “Hmm, most of these things I already have…” she thought. “Oh, I better buy some more notebooks. While I am at it, I will buy that new book by Percy Jackson, ‘Sea of Monsters.’” “It is too bad that Stephanie had financial aid issues. I wonder how this Allison is? Is she going to have a problem with a college roommate who is short enough to be her little sister?” She continued to herself as she looked at her roommate's information pamphlet. Flipping back to the website, “Let's see what they want… I am a submissive… oh, that pulls up a whole new form… some of the standard stuff … Kathleen … Why do they want my middle name … Annabelle Telgenhof … March 16, 1987… I guess the owner's choice for a submissive name … Email… Don’t send me spam from your sponsors… Don’t share my email with suggested owners... Password… I am not sure why they want this information… Weight… 55 pounds soaking wet… Height ... 4’5” rounded up... their selection doesn’t even go that small. I guess I have to choose less than 5’... Location… Pennsylvania… I guess I am looking for an online owner. Oh, what the hell, an offline owner, too... Let’s see, a short questionnaire, a short description, and a recent picture will finish it off.” Looking at the time, “Wowser, that took longer than I thought it would,” Kathleen thought as she put her laptop to sleep. She meets her mother, Marlene, in the kitchen after walking out of her bedroom. “Hello, sweetie. Do you want some ice cream?” Marlene asked as she was scooping into a bowl. “You know I can never turn down cookie dough, Mommie.” "We can watch AFHV as we eat it.” “Sounds like a plan.” “What are your plans for tomorrow while I am at school?” “I told them I would do some volunteering at the zoo since time is getting short until my return to college. I need to stop for college supplies before or after; I just hope I don’t get pulled over for underage driving this time,” Kathleen mentioned. “That still happening?” Her mother asked. “Usually once a week, Mommie.” “Not much we can do about that, unfortunately, sweetie, except for you to grow a few inches,” Marlene pointed out. “Or afoot? Neither an inch nor a foot is going to happen, Mother. That ship sailed ages ago,” Kathleen said crossly, turning her eyes towards the TV. Marlene nodded and watched the television in silence. ~o~O~o~ Rolling out of bed at about 7 o’clock the following day, Kathleen booted up her laptop as she got dressed and ready for a day of volunteering. Coming back to the computer, she started her everyday morning computer habits, email, MySpace, Yahoo Messenger, and a few websites… before logging on to Submissive Match. “Let's see if I got any hits from my profile.” She discovered after she was finally logged in that there were three messages waiting for her. Looking at the first, “Eww, I really didn’t need to see that guy’s dick, this might of been a big mistake. … Oh, there is an ignore feature, thank god.” “Here goes nothing for the second, … interesting name… I seriously doubt his name is really Beast…” “Hello, Little Girl, you’re just the kind of young girl I would really like to meet. You would be perfect kneeling in front of me …” Other than the nickname for herself and himself, this guy isn’t too bad so far, Kathleen thought. “... with my legs spread wide open, and pants zipper down …” “EEEWWW,” Kathleen said out loud, “Spoke too soon!” and she couldn’t click the ignore button fast enough. Leaving the third message for later, she went to get a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Looking at the time, “I will have to leave the third message and college supplies ‘til after the zoo.” ~o~O~o~ “Hello Kathleen, thank you for coming. Why don’t you take the hedgehog and sit down on a bench just inside the entrance to the zoo? You should get plenty of exposure there,” Mr. Cooper, the zoo’s volunteer coordinator, instructed while thinking to himself about that also places her in a place where we can watch her. I am always worried she may be kidnapped, being so small and easy to be confused with an actual grade school kid. Kathleen nodded and headed to where the educational animals were kept. Continuing the thoughts, Mark took a memory trip back five years. “I first told her she was too young to volunteer. She had to be 14. I could have sworn it was a five or six-year-old asking to volunteer. I am kind of glad she pleaded her case and produced proof of age since she has been one of my best teenage volunteers.” He continued to himself, “I will never tell her, but that outfit is custom-ordered for her. I also purposely took the tags off to hide the fact that it is a size 7/8 girls' polo shirt.” Looking out of his office window towards the entrance plaza that it overlooked, he noticed Kathleen was setting up right where he requested her to. “I have never discussed it with her, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she were self-conscious about her height. I would be if I were her,” he thought before returning back to his volunteer hours spreadsheet. ~o~O~o~ “Riiinnnggg” “Susquehanna Valley Zoo, Volunteer department, Mark speaking, how can I help you?” … “How old is your daughter?” … “Sorry, she is a few years too young. She has to be 14 to volunteer.” … “The one with a hedgehog today? She is actually 19 years old.” … “Unfortunately, a common misunderstanding with her. Have your daughter give me a call in a couple of years.” … “Talk to them then.” Hanging up the phone, he looked out the window at the object of the confusion. A group of grade school kids currently surrounded her. The only thing that set her apart from the other kids was the green polo shirt, which signified that she was a volunteer. ~o~O~o~ “OK, Mr. Cooper, I have returned the hedgehog to the education department.” “Thank you, Kathleen, five hours today?” Mark said, looking at the clock. “What was your driving time?” he continued. “Yes, that is correct, and it takes me twenty minutes each way to get here.” “When do I expect you back?” “Unless you have a better idea, I should return Wednesday at the opening,” Kathleen said, thinking of her plans. She had agreed to go out with some high school friends tomorrow. “Works for me. When do you return to college?” “My parents and I are going in a convoy next month, August 13th.” “You will be missed again this year.” “Aww, I will be back again next year,” Kathleen said as she felt her face color up. Showing her to the door, Mark turned his attention to entering Kathleen’s hours in his spreadsheet. “That girl is the closest thing to a little girl I would ever have. I can’t seem to produce the required X chromosome for a girl,” he thought, thinking of his three boys currently in daycare. Meanwhile, Kathleen started driving to a bookstore to buy her prize book and required school supplies. Seeing a cop tailgating her in her rearview mirror, she checked her speed. Noticing she was actually under the speed limit, she thought, “Not again. Can I ever drive without being pulled over for underage driving?” After five minutes and no lights, she wondered what was taking him so long to pull her over. Five more minutes later, the cop slowed and made a U-turn. Kathleen thought that was strange. He tailed me and didn’t pull me over. ~o~O~o~ Pulling into the driveway, she couldn’t get in the house fast enough to check that third message that had been calling her all day. After booting up her laptop, she went to the kitchen to get a glass of peach tea. “Let's see,” Kathleen said, entering her details on the website. “Oh, two new messages. I must have received another today.” Opening up the first message, the third from this morning, she began to read it out loud, “Dear Buttercup, I was inspecting the new profiles and happened to notice yours. I am intrigued by your profile, and I hope to hear from you. Master Adam” “Well, that was short to the point and not creepy,” Kathleen said, going to the second message... “Not another dick picture,” Kathleen screamed, going to the ignore button. After returning to Master Adam’s message, she checked out his profile. “Adam Dale, 25 years old, Pennsylvania, Looking for online/offline submissive, oh he isn’t bad looking.” Hitting the reply button, she typed, using the submissive name he gave her, “Dear Sir, Buttercup is intrigued by your profile too and interested in communicating with you. I am not sure how to go about the next step. - Buttercup.” Putting her computer to sleep, she went into the living room to watch some television. ~o~O~o~ Author's Note: Comments, and questions are always welcomed. I am currently writing chapter 69 of this story. -- Thanks Becky
  14. Long time lurker. This is the first story I have written. Writing isn’t my strength, and It takes me forever to write, re-read, and rewrite. I have already written 20 chapters. I hope everyone finds this story different but interesting. This is a slow burn, but it does get into the diapers and regression. It will take a few chapters to really get into it. I can see this going for at least another 20 chapters on top of the twenty chapters already written. Chapter 1: The New Intern Avery let out a deep sigh of relief as he read the email he had just received from the biomedical technology department. He was finally being recognized for his hard work and dedication. His complex calculations and programming to demonstrate the interactions between a relatively new drug and a person's DNA had proven correct and valuable, leading to him being hired over a month ago - despite the doubt and ridicule from his colleagues. He leaned back in his chair, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. On the one hand, he was elated that his efforts were beginning to be acknowledged, but on the other hand, he felt uncertain if this would lead to further respect or more challenges from those who never believed in him. A sense of pride mixed with apprehension began to stir within him, thoughts of the potential applications of this research tumbling through his mind. Ever since Avery Sage was a little boy, he has experienced problems with keeping his pants dry. Maybe it had something to do with the car accident that claimed the lives of his parents. Perhaps the foster homes he cycled through caused him stress, or maybe he would have always had this problem. All he knew for sure was that he needed to wear protection when out in public because when he got stressed, his bladder gave way. As a result, whenever he left the security of his home, he wore pull-ups, which made him feel like a little kid and dampened his confidence. His confidence wasn't helped because he was only five foot and one inch tall for a young man. These anxieties certainly didn’t help his mental health. He suffered from depression, anxiety, and insomnia. He regularly saw a psychiatrist and was on medication, but life could still be a struggle. He thought back to his first week of work. Avery graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Mathematics and Biochemistry at the age of 18. A year later, he was offered an internship while working on his master's in Biochemistry and Genetics. Avery stepped through the doors of DNA Pharmacia, feeling equal parts nervousness and excitement. He had been preparing for this moment his whole life – the chance to finally earn some respect and prove all those who had doubted him wrong. Flashbacks filled his mind of all the running between foster care families he had endured; it had made his self-confidence falter, but nonetheless provided the motivation for him to finish high school years early and break free from the wings of his current foster family. Now was the time to show what he was made of. As Avery sat in the HR office, he wore his dress clothes for his first day, which was saying much– a little too large for his slim, small frame – but still managing to make him feel small and helpless against the world around him. People seemed to look through him everywhere he went as if he were invisible, yet he couldn't shake off the nagging sensation that all eyes were upon him. His shoulders sagged under the weight of defeat that shrouded his self-confidence. His wavery, untamed hair was combed back the best it could be. “Ok, Avery.” Julian, the HR representative, said. “You're done. You're officially an employee of DNA Pharmacia.” “I won’t let you down. I promise.” Avery smiled as he stood up and reached across the desk to shake Julian’s hand. Julian's expression was warm and encouraging as he shook Avery's hand. Julian was a tall, distinguished man in his late thirties, wearing a navy blue suit and a striped tie. His brown eyes twinkle with kindness, and he has a slight, friendly smirk while speaking to Avery. His handshake was firm but slightly frail, making Avery feel nervous that he had no idea if he could uphold such a promise. Doesn't everyone think that on their first day at work? Avery thought to himself. Julian just smiled back at him from his kind face, like he could read Avery's mind. “Great, I am hoping for good things from you. Shall I show you to your new desk and department?” Julian returned the smile. “Yes, please,” Avery followed Julian out of the room. They took two flights up in the elevator to a department called “Chemical DNA Sequencing Department.” and walked side-by-side down the long corridors of the main building. They passed glass panels on every wall and Avery marveled at how modern this building was. He watched sensors scanning vials of chemicals and equipment, feeding data into computers across the room. It was clear no money had been spared in making DNA a cutting-edge company. Every window they passed made him want to stop and ask what was happening; it all looked so exciting, and he couldn’t wait to start. All this made him forget that he secretly wore a pull-up underneath his clothes as protection was needed. It was down one of these corridors that Avery met an older man. The man had a strong jawline and sharp features, aged but wise. His eyes were a deep blue, crinkling at the corners when he smiled. His gray hair was neatly trimmed, and his beard was flecked with silver. He wore a crisp white shirt with black trousers and polished black shoes. He towered over Avery with an air of authority, yet his demeanor was warm and friendly. Avery recognized him from some of the interviews he had gone through to land this job. “Welcome! You must be our marvelous new intern. I am Bryan Wells, and you'll report directly to me! At your desk we have a laptop and a corporate iPhone with the works waiting there for you. From your resume and job interviews, my colleagues have noticed your peculiar knack for math and biochemistry, so we have an exciting task ahead for you! On your desk is a folder that outlines our challenge: debug a computational logic program that looks at DNA to determine designer drugs for fighting cancer. It's a riddle waiting to be solved - think you can do it? Report back any bugs as soon as possible, and we'd be grateful!” Bryan said cheerfully as he led Avery to his desk. “Yes, sir,” Avery replied. He would have agreed to do whatever Bryan needed. He was eager to impress. Bryan continued to talk to Avery. It was a one-sided conversation. Avery was too in awe of everything he was seeing to really contribute much. For him, this place was like a dream—top-level research with some of the smartest people in the world where his work could actually help people. Avery looked around the room. A long row of cubicles ran down one wall with a dozen or so scientists already hard at work on their projects. Avery's desk was tucked into the corner by an emergency exit. The light blue walls were sparse, containing only a few motivational posters and pictures of animals from Earth. Bryan led him to his chair and showed him how he could adjust it to fit him since the chair was probably to tall for him. Avery blushed a little but said nothing about it. Bryan reviewed with him how to log in to the server and the IT policies on using company-issued equipment. Bryan also went over where the relevant programs were located; he would review the folder with all the notes on the development of this program. “If you need anything, come to find me over there,” Bryan pointed to his private office. “The other scientists and engineers should be coming around to introduce themselves to you today.” “Ok, sounds good… And thank you for this opportunity,” Avery said as Bryan returned to his office. On that first day, he met a few scientists and a few engineers. They all seemed friendly enough, even though Avery didn’t have much to say. He wanted to just focus on the task at hand. He felt he had something to prove. Avery had been dealt a tough hand; growing up in the foster care system meant that he was constantly met with obstacles and negative comments. He was told time and again what he couldn’t do, but instead of accepting those limitations as his fate, he used them as motivation. Everyone’s doubts about him only strengthened his desire to prove them all wrong. The rest of the day was slow. Avery needed help concentrating on the program he had been asked to look at. Quite frankly, it was dull, and after seeing all the other scientists and engineers doing much more exciting things, Avery was keen to do something that felt more meaningful. This need to do something drew him to the thick handbook about all the research involved with this program and more. He was fascinated with it. Avery brought the program to his apartment that night. He abstained from indulging in his usual nightly video game escapades. Instead, he spent hours poring over the computational intricacies of DNA's involvement in cancerous growths, absorbed in deciphering the energy states of cancer cells. The realization that this program was an amalgamation of these complex calculations completely captivated him, particularly as he examined how the drug had to be manipulated to match the energy state of the cancer cells so that it would interact effectively with them. It was nothing less than astounding. As he delved deeper into the notes, he discovered a vexing inconsistency in one of the mathematical formulas that disrupted the programming and prevented it from reaching a conclusion on what drug was needed for treatment. Avery closed the notebook for the night, satisfied he knew what he could start looking at and he was glad to be out of the pull-up for the day. As he lay in bed, his mind kept running through what he had read. His insomnia medication meant he wasn’t awake for long, but even in sleep, it felt like his brain was searching through everything he had learned the previous day. The morning came too quickly as his alarm went off. “Ugh, I hate mornings,” Avery muttered as he hit the snooze button repeatedly. The alarm kept ringing, and every time it did, Avery reached out a hand and hit the snooze button again. It was an almost instinctive reaction to the annoying noise. His brain wasn’t clicking into gear. All he knew was that he wanted more sleep. At one point, as the alarm went, Avery pawed at the snooze button yet again but only ended up knocking his phone off the bedside table. “Oh shit,” He said as he looked up at the clock. It was 7:30 a.m. He was supposed to be at work at 8:00 a.m. His alarm had been going on and off since 6:00 a.m. this morning. Avery quickly removed his boxers and slipped on new pull-ups, light gray tan dockers, and a maroon golf shirt. He quickly wet down his hair and combed it back, knowing it would still look like a mess when his hair dried. Avery quickly left to grab the bus to work at 7:30 a.m. and hopefully be at work at 8:00 am. It was a rush, and Avery didn’t feel particularly ready, but as he walked out of the front door into the early morning air. He didn’t know how anyone could be a “morning person” when he always felt… tired. That morning, when Avery got to work, the first thing he did was get a large cup of coffee. Afterward, he sat down at his desk and began to take a look at the code. The code wasn’t easy to follow. It didn’t follow too much of a logical path in his mind. Two hours later, John Taylor, the most Sr, Engineer on the project and project lead, stopped by his desk. John was a 45-year-old engineer with a commanding presence and an ego to match. He stood at an imposing 6'2" and had a burly build that spoke of years of physical labor. Despite his advancing age, his muscles were still firm, and his torso remained taut, reflecting an unwavering commitment to physical fitness. Avery thought John's walk exuded confidence, each step resonating with a deliberate thud. His posture was impeccable, with his chest puffed out and his chin held high. He had a square jaw and piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore through any obstacle in their way. This made Avery very anxious to be around him. He was very much the opposite of Avery, who was dressed in a pair of tan dockers and a collared maroon shirt That he had quickly thrown on minutes before leaving the house. If someone were to judge Avery. They would say he dressed not to cause a stir and just wanted to blend in. The differences between the timid Avery and John, who exuded machismo and confidence, couldn’t have been starker. John wore an expensive suit that hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his chiseled physique, a testament to his attention to detail and his love of the finer things in life. “Impressive work on one of my projects, huh?” John scowled as he snatched the notebook off his desk. “I wouldn't waste your time with all the irrelevant data scribbled in here. It'll do nothing but distract you.” He flicked it to the other side of his desk like an afterthought. Avery noticed John's hazel eyes were framed by creases that spoke to years of meticulous research studies and calculations. “I tried to get a grip on it, but honestly, I stumbled over the complex calculations necessary for developing designer drugs. Despite that, I was still captivated by the work yesterday." Avery sighed, not convinced of his own abilities to do this kind of research but determine to make a difference still. “Well, just weed out the bugs and get the program working. My team and I will take care of the rest.” Johns said with a condescending smile. “If you do that, you will do good here, kid!” “It’s just….” Avery started. He wanted to prove his knowledge by suggesting a change to the handbook. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.” John cut Avery off with ease. Avery felt a little put out by this overconfident man. He had been hired to be equal to all the other scientists, and yet John was acting like he was somebody hired to do data entry. He knew he could make the program run better and make the handbook better; he just needed John to listen to him. “I’m just thinking that if we…” Avery tried again. “If you have any suggestions, just write them down and slip them under my door,” John said as he started walking away without looking over his shoulder. The rest of the day went on without a hitch. A few people came by and tried to introduce themselves to him, but he kept the small talk to a minimum and just wanted to look over the program. Avery took a lot of notes that day. At the end of the day, he decided to retake the notebook home and leave the laptop at the office. He left the office at 4:30 p.m. to catch the bus at 5 p.m. If he missed the bus past 6 p.m., there wouldn't be another bus till morning. He was hungrier than normal because he skipped lunch all day to work on debugging the program. He stopped by a McDonald's and ordered a Big Mac. As he stood in line, he couldn't help but notice the Happy Meals on the counter, offering small Lego kits to children. It was a cruel marketing strategy to exploit parents and make them buy more Lego sets for their already spoiled kids. He knew this well, but it only reminded him of his own childhood, one filled with deprivation and lack of affection. He watched as the children played with their toys, ignoring the food in front of them - something he would have cherished as a child. But no, he was never allowed such frivolous things growing up; his foster parents made sure to remind him how unworthy he was of such luxuries. The memory brought back painful emotions that festered deep within him.
  15. Okay, I know I should be working on many other stories...but I love Helluva Boss, and after someone already did a Loona de-aging fanfic (that sadly had very few canon things there, but it was still a very good story despite that), I had to get on mine, since Loona's my favorite. For those paying attention to Helluva Boss, a fair warning: this story occurs a bit after Loona gets her Hellbies shot, so some of the other things that have happened aren't going to happen in this story. I've taken a few liberties with some of the Sins that haven't appeared and Loona's past as well (as we don't know exactly what happened), so take that into account as well. Anyway, as a warning, this is Hell, so there's going to be a lot of complicated content warnings for this story that I urge you to take heed of in the tags. I promise to warn you when they come, but I do want to warn you ahead of time. Anyway, on with the show! - Chapter One: Expectations. - Octavia was tired of hearing her parents fighting, especially when it involved her. Stolas and Stella - her father and mother - were screeching at each other like homicidal demonic barn owls (don’t ask her how she knew that; some things weren’t meant for living human minds), barely paying attention to her, and yet…custody. Fucking custody. Over her. Just…why? It wasn’t fair. Yes, Loona had said that families were complicated, but this right after she had run away the last time… The owl-like Goetia heiress froze. Loona. The hellhound was definitely a bit rough around the edges, definitely sarcastic and rude, but she could talk to her, maybe? The last time, when she was lost on Earth, looking for a meteor shower she had waited years to see, it had been Loona who found her…and unlocked a side of her she thought was missing. Octavia felt like - in Loona - she had a sister, an elder sister she could confide in, someone braver than she was, someone whom she could…look up to, maybe? Her fucking emotions were getting the best of her, maybe, but hell with it. Lucifer, what if I’m being…no, time to be brave, Via, show Father and Mother what a mistake they’re making. She was going to go to I.M.P., maybe read from the Grimoire, maybe find a way to placate her parents, somehow, maybe talk to Loona, see what she thought. She had no idea Loona was already having a bad day. - Loona was pissed at Moxxie. Fucking fatass (he wasn’t really fat, she admitted to herself, but she needed another reason to hate the smug little prick.) imp was beyond late to work along with Millie, his wife. Bad enough she had five fucking years worth of her yearly Hellbies shot (She hated shots. Shots in the pound usually meant…euthanization for the hellhounds who aged out…like she had nearly been before Blitzo - known to all as “Blitz”; the “o” was silent - had adopted her. Blitz had lied to her twice, by the way: it was not “one little prick”, and her ass was still sore from it, so he lied about not feeling it as well. Thank Lucifer the cone was off, at least.) a week ago, but now he was pacing the halls, trying to figure out where they were. “Goddammit, if you could be any later, Moxxie, I’d need a fucking stopwatch to fucking time you…” Blitz muttered. If his voice didn’t clearly show his annoyance, the tic of him scratching the white and black, curved horns on his bald head certainly did. Loona knew that if the imp paced any more, he was going to wear out the floorboards - and they had survived a fire from hellectric eels (don’t ask), so she personally knew how tough they were to destroy and/or wear out. She flicked her bluish-gray hair fur to one side, her red eyes firmly focused on her most prized possession: her H-Phone 666 LX, a gift to her from Blitz for her twenty-first birthday a year ago. Then Moxxie and Millie broke down the door - quite literally. “You know that’s coming out of your paycheck, fatass,” Loona said, not even looking up from her phone as it played VoxTube videos. No response. She raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Moxxie to not defend himself from her taunts. “Okay, why are you two fucking hours late?” Blitz demanded. “We were supposed to be using the Grimoire for our target, and-“ “Sorry, Sir, but…” Moxxie twirled a strand of his white hair nervously (not that Loona was paying any attention or cared what Moxxie thought; it was clearly phone time). “We’re expecting!” Millie finished excitedly in her Wrathian drawl, her yellow eyes gleaming as Moxxie brushed her glistening black hair. “What, like a prize for being late?” Loona snarked, not even looking up from her phone. “No, silly: a baby!” Millie giggled. Blitz’s eyes went as wide as full moons, as he looked at them, doing a double-take at them. “Wha-WHAT?!” he stammered. “So, you were-“ “Well, I took the test, showed red, then went to the doctor who confirmed it!” the female imp gushed with excitement, as Moxxie wrapped his small, gentle arms protectively around his wife’s stomach. “Oh, that’s, uh, congrats!” the head of Immediate Murder Professionals (hence the name “I.M.P.”) said, his eyes gaining a semblance of…warmth? An unfamiliar emotion was growing in the pit of Loona’s stomach. She didn’t know what to call it, but she didn’t like it one bit. “So, Sir, we all have a lot of back pay from our jobs, so…” Moxxie began. “First kid’s always worth a break,” Blitz said with a jovial laugh. “Loony-Toony might have to join us later on while Millie handles the Grimoire, but-“ Loona barely heard the excited imp talking because she recognized a different, yet all-too familiar emotion bubbling up to the surface: anger. The hellhound had a nice job as the secretary of I.M.P. Yeah, going out in the human world for occasional work was fun and all, but her job was simple: open a portal to the human world, listen for when the three imps needed to get back, reopen a portal back. She had a routine. She had time to go on her phone, go to the latest Sinstagram pics and VoxTube videos, get a cup of coffee, and wait by herself, with no one’s problems but her own bugging her. And now this…this was threatening the entirety of that safe routine. And she was realizing the unfamiliar emotion was very familiar, after all: envy. A fucking imp baby with Millie replacing her job, and judging by Blitz’s expression, replace his affection for her. That’s all she was, when it came down to it: replaceable. Even after she told Blitz that she’d be there with him, she was still replaceable. The next words tumbled out of her mouth before she could take them back. “How do you know that they’re telling the truth? I mean, are you sure Moxxie can even have kids?” Loona immediately realized she had said something wrong with the immensely hurt look in Millie’s eyes, a pulsing vein throbbing dangerously in Moxxie’s temple as he drew his pistol, pointed it at her and shouted furiously, “YOU TAKE THAT BACK, YOU BITCH!” But the worst was Blitz looking…disappointed, as he said, “Now, Loony, you need to apologize to Moxxie and Millie.” “How about he apologizes for calling me the b-slur?” Loona snarled at Blitz without even thinking, her rising anger taking over. “LOONA, you will apologize to Moxxie and Millie.” Blitz’s voice was surprisingly stern, even a bit angry - a tone that, to her knowledge, he had almost never taken with her. “Oh, so you can replace me with the little brat, huh, Blitz, be a real dad as you stalk them in their private lives like you usually do? Well, guess what, Blitz: you aren’t a fucking real dad! You aren’t their kid’s dad, and you aren’t my fucking dad either!” She felt a vile concoction of satisfaction and guilt course through her as Blitz looked as if she had hit him. It almost would’ve felt better to her if he had hit her back, if he said anything at all. Even Moxxie was stunned into lowering his gun. “I-is this a bad time?” a new voice asked. Octavia Goetia had made her appearance, all four of them looking at her in simultaneous shock, the same look the demoness had on her face. Loona took the Grimoire from the safe, and Blitz didn’t even protest, the hurt look in his eyes saying all that needed to be said. “C’mon, Via, we’re crashing at my place,” Loona said darkly, as she held the Goetia heiress’s clawed hand to the demoness’s shock, leaving the job, the silent absence of a protest echoing in her heart. - Hope y'all enjoyed~ I don't know if I'll have a regular schedule for uploading; I never do, but I'll do my best every week, I think.
  16. Chapter one A soft spring sun promised a beautiful summer. The kids were back outside after the long winter. It was still chilly but the direct rays of the sun were lovely and the coats had been left at home. Quietly two boys were busy with each other, with their sleeves rolled up, hidden behind a garden house where they sat out of sight of the house, sheltered from the wind and unwanted looks. “Well, then we're blood brothers now.” Dries said, pressing his bloodied wrist against Jasper's. They looked at each other with joy. It was Dries who had taken the lead in the whole thing, but Jasper was happy to go along with it. They had been best friends for a long time and shared all the joys and sorrows. If they weren't at Dries' house, they could be found two blocks away at Jasper's house or on the playground between the two families. Often an extra place was covered at the table if Jasper or Dries lingered in one of the two houses. When Jasper or Dries went on holiday, and they couldn't see each other for more than three days, they both felt a big knot in their stomach because of the loss. “Now that we are blood brothers, we should never keep secrets from each other and share everything.” Dries continued. “And if you reveal a secret to someone else, your hand falls off.” he also said. Dries meant what he said, but Jasper wasn't so sure about the latter. But it made no difference to him, he would never betray the trust of his best friend. It had been Dries who had made the whole thing up. He had read about it in a book about how they used to do it and brought it up to Jasper. He wanted to become blood brothers and Jasper went along with it. At Dries's request, Jasper had brought a pocket knife from his big brother and together they hid behind Dries's garden house. Dries had thought out the ritual completely. First ask the great spirits to be witnesses. Then they vowed about what it meant to be blood brothers. “I swear I will protect my blood brother from now on. I will share all my love and all my grief with him. I swear that I will always protect him. My secret is his secret, and his will be mine. I swear I will never do anything to betray my blood brother's trust.” Then they blessed the knife. “O great spirits, behold this knife with which we shall seal our bond.” Dries said, holding the knife up in the direction of the sun. Dries took the knife and cut his forearm with it. Not that it mattered much. The knife was rather blunt and there was no more than a scratch showing a small drop of blood in two places. Dries decided that was adequate. It was painful enough, and nothing Dries had read about it said how much blood it took. Jasper repeated the ritual to himself and offered his wrist to Dries, after which he placed his on it. “Well, then we're blood brothers now.” Jasper wiped the knife on his pants, closed the knife and put it back in his pocket. The two friends sat down next to each other and both sucked on their wounds to wipe off the blood. “I'm glad we're blood brothers now.” Dries said. Jasper nodded convincingly yes. He had never been much of a talker, but that wasn't a problem for their friendship. They understood each other. “Dries, come and eat!” called Kathy, Dries' mother. Quickly Dries and Jasper rushed to Dries' house. “Ah, are you there Jasper?” Kathy said. “Does your mum know?” Jasper nodded quickly yes, he had indeed shouted something like that to his mother this afternoon before he left. “Slide on Jasper, I'll send your mum a message. Which of your two mums is home?” Kathy then continued. “Mommy Helga is home.” said Jasper. “Mommy Celine has to work today.” Kathy quickly took her cell phone and sent a message to Helga. << Your piggy gets his food here today. 😉 >> and Helga's answer came quickly. <<Thank you, send that monkey of yours here tomorrow, and he will get his ration here.>> they had known each other since their children started school, but they got on well. While Kathy was exchanging messages with his mom, Jasper took an extra plate and cutlery and put them on the table. Dries meanwhile took another glass and the five of them quickly sat down at the table. Heleen, Dries' big sister, and their father were also there. “Oh Dries and Jasper. Your hands are still dirty. Are you coming to the tap? I'll help.” Heleen was thirteen, five years older than Dries and Jasper. She was such an overly caring type of sister who was very protective of Dries. Having Jasper around only made her happier, because it meant she had two 'victims' for her good intentions instead of one. Jasper and Dries usually let her do it. It could be useful if they needed help for something, but sometimes this mothering was quite disturbing. The time at the table was filled with conversation. After dinner, Dries and Jasper continued to play inside. Dries took the Lego from his room and in the living room they started to build a castle that hopefully could withstand the attack of a dragon. Jasper used to ask if they couldn't just go and play in Dries' room, but that was never allowed. After a while, Jasper stopped asking. Different house, different rules, he thought quietly. After an hour of building, Kathy's cell phone rang. <<That piggy of mine can go to the stable. It's early morning training for him and he has to get up early. Are you sending him? Grtz Helga>> Kathy immediately turned to the boys. “Come Jasper, it's time to go to sleep sends your mother. Better at home in your own bed than here. Right?” “Of course,” Jasper replied sadly. On the one hand, he would have liked to have played a little longer. (the castle was not finished yet) and on the other hand he really wanted to spend the night with Dries. He had asked that several times, but it had never happened. There had always been a reason. (It's school tomorrow, there's training tomorrow, Dries is tired from last night and should definitely sleep well now,... ) Reason after reason every invitation or proposal was declined and it never happened. Finally, Jasper had given up asking. “Hey Jasper. Put on your coat and shoes and go home. Your mama is waiting.” urged Kathy Dries said goodbye to Jasper as he put on his things. “Come on Dries. Leave upstairs now. Then you can go straight to bed as well.” Dries' mom finished as she quickly helped Jasper tie his shoelaces. Kathy checked on the street whether Jasper was crossing properly, after which she went inside to put her son to bed. Jasper came home in a good mood. “Nice play at Dries?” Helga asked her son as he came in. Jasper nodded cheerfully yes. “I'm always sad when it's over.” Helga took Jasper upstairs to get him ready for bed. Pyjamas, brushing teeth, toilet and finally a story. Jasper can of course already read himself, but being read to (with mummy who does those loverly voices) makes it even more fun. Chapter two A week later, Dries and Jasper were again sitting behind the garden house in the afternoon. "Remember last week?" Dries asked Jasper. Jasper looked up at Dries in surprise. He remembered what they had done here last week, something important that he would not forget easily. A blood oath is something for life. Jasper believed in sharing the whole message with joy and sorrow, keeping no secrets from each other. But why did Dries have to sit and shift so uncomfortably? Jasper became worried that something bad was happening. “Remember when we swore we weren't going to keep any secrets from each other?” Dries continued, blushing slightly. “Of course I remember that Dries. You and me. We are blood brothers. You can tell me anything and I swore I would never tell anyone else." Jasper replied. Jasper didn't have to hesitate about his answer. He meant it with all his heart. Dries looked sharply in all directions to make sure no one was around. When Jasper saw what he was doing, he looked nervously around the corner of the garden house, but no one was there either. "Come here." whispered Dries quietly. Jasper moved his buttocks a bit and came forward with his ear to be able to understand Dries. Jasper was afraid of what was about to come. Dries had never been so ashamed to say something. "I still do pee in bed at night and you promised not to tell anyone." Dries whispered urgently and hurriedly into Jasper's ear. Jasper looked in surprise at Dries. Was he still wetting the bed? Babies only did that, didn't they? Jasper wasn't sure what to do with this information. He was going to keep it to himself, Dries was his best friend, after all, but what was he supposed to do with it? Why had Dries said that? All these questions were running through Jasper's mind. Dries looked anxiously back at Jasper, waiting for an answer. The silence, short as it was, was painful and made him fear the worst. "Now that you know that, you can sleep here." Dries added quietly. That turned the dime in the right direction for Jasper. "Really, can I sleep over? Yay! at last!" exclaimed Jasper. "I'm going to ask your mum if she sends a message to mine to ask if that's allowed." Jasper chattered away. Forgetting the bed-wetting, the two children rushed in to get their parents' permission. "Mommy, can Jasper sleep here?" Dries asked. Dries's mom thougth for a moment. They had to get up early tomorrow to visit grandpa and grandma, so it wasn't really a good idea. But it was the first time that Dries had asked a friend to spend the night. She knew why, he was ashamed of wetting the bed. It didn't really work out, but she didn't want to discourage the first step. "that's fine for me, but we're also going to ask Jasper's mum first." Kathy said. "Know Jasper that you have to go home quickly tomorrow morning, because we are leaving. Go on playing, I'll send a message to your mom." << Hey, my monkey has asked your pig to spend the night here. Is that possible? Greetings Kathy>> << That's good for me. Does my pig know about your monkey's problem? Greetings Helga>> <<I don't know. I'll talk to them soon. K>> <<Are you going to send my piggy home afterwards? Then I give him a bag with some sleeping stuff. H>> <<Okay, that's good. I've got a spare pillow and sheets here, he don't have to bring that. K>> << That's good, how long can he stay? H.>> << I'll send him back between nine and ten am. My in-laws are expecting us tomorrow afternoon. K>> << That's good, I'll see him coming.>> After the messages were exchanged, Kathy, Dries' mother, went looking for her son and Jasper. "I've just exchanged a few messages with Helga. Jasper, it's good for her too, your mom allows you to sleep here." "Yippee!" the two boys shouted in unison. They were really looking forward to it. Dries was a bit worried about how the evening would go. He had told Jasper that he wet the bed, but not everything that went with it. "Jasper, there is something else I have to tell you about Dries." Dries blushed because he immediately knew what was coming. "Dries just told me that he wets the bed at night." Jasper told Kathy. Kathy smiled. "That is indeed true. Did he also tell you that there is nothing he can do about it?" "No, not yet, what do you mean?" Jasper then asked. "For some children, the wetting goes away quickly on its own, while for others it takes longer. That is quite normal. There are many children who wet the bed, but no one knows about it because no one says anything about it. In your class there are probably be two or three other children besides Dries who also wet the bed." "I didn't know that, I thought only very young children did that." said Jasper carefully, not wanting to offend his best friend. "Of course not. Some big kids, even bigger than you, have that problem too." Dries' mother assured Jasper. Dries looked a bit puzzled. He didn't like his mother discussing his 'nocturnal problem' with anyone else, even if it was his best friend. Assured that Jasper had understood that Dries could not help it, and Dries assured that he really had nothing to be ashamed of, she sent both children to Jasper's house so that they could collect his things. Armed with pyjamas, a cuddly toy, toothbrush, toothpaste and a change of clothes for the next day, Jasper and Dries returned to Dries' house. "take those things upstairs right away. I'll help you make your bed." said Kathy. Jasper followed Dries carefully upstairs. He had never been upstairs before and did a curious look around the room. He saw the boxes of toys, a desk with his schoolwork, the bed, bedside table and two large closets. "Wow, so big and beautiful." Jasper said as he slowly turned around and then sat down on the bed. "Why was I never allowed to come here?" he asked, feeling with his hand on the mattress that strange thing that made such a strange noise. "So you wouldn't feel the plastic over the mattress." said Dries with red jaws. "It protects the mattress in case I wet the sheets. You would have known that I wet the bed." "That's all right, don't worry about it." Jasper said. "I'm so glad I can stay with you now." Dries' mum came in with a folding bed and a set of sheets. "Here Jasper, will you put your pillow in the pillowcase?" she asked, fiddling with mattress protectors and sheets herself. A few minutes later the bed was nicely set up. Dries displayed Jasper's stuffed animal nicely on the headboard and afterwards they went downstairs towards the living room. With everything in order now, the boys set to work on the Lego castle where they had been working on the week before. There were still a few walls to go and a tower that had to be built as high as possible. That way, the catapult would be able to protect the castle from the dragon. After dinner the boys worked and played for a while, until it was time to go to bed. "Here Jasper. Take your pyjamas and go to the bathroom. Dries, which pyjamas do you want?" Jasper went to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. While he was busy brushing his teeth, he heard the toilet flush next to the bathroom. A little later Dries came in in his pyjamas and grabbed his toothbrush. He had apparently changed into his pyjamas in his room. Jasper went to the toilet and then to Dries' room. Dries' mum was already waiting with a story book in her hands. Jasper's eyes started to sparkle. He loved stories. "We are waiting for Dries, and when he's ready we'll start." Dries came out of the bathroom a little later and settled on the other side of his mum. Kathy opened the book and started. "The Knight Princess. Once upon a time there was a princess, who was stronger and tougher than…" The boys enjoyed the story from start to finish. They each got another 'good night kiss' and the lights went out. Jasper tossed and turned in his bed. It wasn't just him, another room, another bed. And now he was also curious about Dries' bed-wetting. What would that look like? Jasper's head was full with questions, but he didn't dare ask them. It's because Dries' dad had been very strict. If he had to come upstairs to the bedroom once because they were being too noisy, this would also be the last sleepover. And Jasper hoped there would be many more could follow after this first one. It took a while before he found his peace, but Dries's calm breathing was somewhat contagious and eventually he too also fell asleep. Jasper woke up to the light coming through the curtains. At home he always had to lie down until it was eight o'clock, but here he didn't see a clock anywhere. Carefully he tried to look at Dries to see if he was awake yet. Because the guest bed was so much lower, he couldn't see anything. Carefully he tried to sit up, but the bed made a terrible noise when he moved. Jasper so stopped and lay still. He thought that the noise of that bed would certainly wake Dries' parents, and he didn't want that. He wanted to behave as well as possible so that he could certainly do more sleepovers. Jasper remained lying there for another five minutes (according to his feelings). "Dries, are you awake?" he asked finally Jasper listened for a moment as he whispered, but heard nothing. Maybe he was not whispering loud enough. "Dries, are you awake?" followed again, this time a bit louder. Now Dries must have heard it. Jasper did indeed hear movement in Dries' bed. Dries turned around and everything rustled. There was also a low murmur coming from the bed but is wasn't clear enough to be understood. "Dries, louder, I didn't understand you." Jasper said now more than he whispered to Dries. "Yes, what is is, is it time already?" said Dries again. "Are you still asleep?" Jasper asked Dries. Quietly, Jasper began to see his mistake. But Dries was awake now and they started to play. Not much later (or so it felt) Dries' mum came in and it was really time to get up. Kathy had a busy schedule and urged the children to hurry. "Jasper, go downstairs and start eating. Helga will pick you up in half an hour. Dries has to come with us, we are going to visit his grandparents." Heleen was already eating at the table downstairs. "Sit down. I'll make you a sandwich. What do you want on it?" she asked Jasper. Jasper chose the strange blue and white crackling spread. He had only eaten it once before and thought it tasted good. While Heleen was busy smearing, the rest of the family also came down. Dries even had already all his clothes on! Jasper was just nibbling the last of his sandwich when his mother came to the door. "Go and get changed quickly Jasper, we will leave then too." Kathy said. In no time at all Jasper was upstairs and in his clothes. He quickly said goodbye to the family and walked home with his mother. There was a quick honk and wave as Dries drove by with his family. "Can Dries come and stay overnight next week?" Jasper asked his mother longingly as he watched the car pull out of the streat. Chapter 3 The next school day was started with making plans for the following weekend. The family was going on a day trip to a nearby forest and Dries was going along. Jasper knew the perfect secret spot to build a camp, and no one else would be able to find it in the play forest. Jasper was sure of it. During the lesson, they made a minute-by-minute plan on a scrap of paper from Dries when the teacher called them to order. When the construction plans for the camp were taken away the next day at school, Jasper and Dries were furious. All their ideas gone! On the third day of school they lost their list of materials and on the fourth day of school, to their surprise, the map they had made of the area around the camp was taken away. Did their teacher really not understand where the priorities lay? All the work they had done for the past week was thinly redone on Friday afternoon during playtime. "At least now they have no reason to take away our work." Dries growled between his teeth. Jasper nodded softly. He was redrawing the map with the tip of his tongue between his lips. "Jasper. That's your calligraphy book you got there. What are you doing now!" a weary teacher bellowed over the heads of the two children. All week they had been more busy with each other than with the lessons. "Why didn't you just ask for some paper? Give me that notebook here." Disappointed, Jasper handed over his calligraphy. All their work for nothing again. But as determined the children wanted to make their preparations, so unpredictable is the weather. When Dries rang Jasper's doorbell from under his umbrella in the morning, instead of the promised spring sunshine, there were clouds, rain and a lot of wind. The forest was closed because the risk of trees or branches falling was too high due to the stormy weather, so the trip was therefore cancelled. They discussed the craziest punishments they could give the weatherman while playing a board game called Hotel. In the end, they came up with a fake marriage proposal between their teacher and the weatherman. In the end, they were the ones who ruined their weekend. The board game was alternated with electric racing cars, Monopoly, making a bed, Playmobil, normal cars and a game called Gold Diggers. The only strange moment was when Dries made his bed. As usual, the careless Dries scattered and threw everything around, for example he bounced his cuddly toy off the ceiling into the bed. He aimed his toothbrush and toothpaste from three metres at the sink and remained at one-half metres and thirty cm from the target respectively. But just as he picked up his pyjamas and was about to throw them at the bed, he changed his mind. Cautiously, he walked to his pillow and carefully slid his pyjamas under his pillow like the nice package they were. Then the clean clothes for the next day flew towards the chair. Jasper looked surprised for a moment, wondering where this break in Dries 'normal' behaviour had come from. But soon his attention shifted to the next activity and the moment was forgotten. A couple of hours and one figuratively exploded house later, the boys were lying paralysed in their seats, on the verge of boredom. "Come and slide on you snot noses." Gert, Jasper's big brother came in and, as always, immediately asserted himself. He always wanted the best seat on the couch. And that was exactly where Jasper was sitting. Jasper knew he had to leave Gert his spot, but on one or another way, Jasper always seemed to sit in Gert's 'best spot'. Jasper rolled out of the seat and quickly scrambled out of the way towards Dries so to avoid being crushed under Gert. The 'move on' was the only warning he received and Jasper knew he had to hurry if he didn't want to face any consequences, big or small, from his brother. Gert was twice as old, twice as strong, twice as heavy,... He enjoyed the power he had over these two 'little buggers.' or 'snot noses' as he sometimes puts it. Clicking on Helga, Jasper's mum, would help for a short while, but later that day or the day after, Gert would always make it clear why clicking was an 'unwanted behavior' and what the consequences were. For Gert, this 'unwanted behavior' had to be suppressed as quickly as possible, preferably in the most original way possible. Originality to Gert usually meant a combination of hands or feet and pain. Gert lived by the standard that small, cute and sweet by definition did not belong to little brothers. He had a few life motto's that Gert lived up to as best he could. 'The strongest rise to the top' 'If you can't win, you have to cheat.' and finally: 'Growing up and grow tall is the cure for everything.' What he thought was perfectly normal when he was still eight years old, he now thinks as a sixteen years old, that all these things are for toddlers and babies. No one is allowed to say that as an eight-year-old he still had fun with Lego, Playmobil or playing on playgrounds. In short: Gert and Jasper preferred to deny each other's existence and their live together was based on a fragile and above all unequal balance of power. Gert would turn off the children's channel, which the two boys used to try to combat their boredom, and he switched to a series about the most uninteresting subject there was. Slowly, they trudged from the sofa to the kitchen in search of something else. Helga made the final preparations for dinner. “Good to have you boys. If you'd like to put your pyjamas on now, you can play Mario Kart after dinner. Otherwise it will be time to go to bed almost immediately after dinner." Dries and Jasper did not hesitate. Dries didn't have a Nintendo at home and Jasper's parents didn't usually let them play electronic games when Dries was around. The two boys stormed upstairs. Jasper pulled out his favourite onesie. Dries left a trail of clothes from the door to the bed and was already pulling on the top of his pyjamas when Jasper came in. Jasper sat down on the bed to take off his stockings when he saw Dries picking up his pyjama bottoms. Excited as Dries was, he had forgotten which 'package' was still folded between his pyjama bottoms. While Dries jerked the pants, another piece of clothing and something white came out between the pants. Red-faced, Dries dove after it and quickly muffled them both under the sheets. Of course, with Jasper sitting right next to him, the attempt to do it in secret was doomed from the start. "What's that?" Jasper asked as he pulled back the covers. "My nappy for when I wet the bed." Dries stammered as he tried to pull the covers back up. "Isn't it too small for you?" Jasper asked, ignoring Dries' attempt to hide it and grabbing the diaper. "Does it fit? I didn't know it existed that big?" Jasper's interest was aroused. He looked closely at the front. There was a picture of a lion with a blue-green stripe at the top... Dries watched with tears in his eyes as Jasper discovered his secret. "I didn't know you wear that," Jasper said, turning the diaper around to all sides to feel and see. Dries let out a huge sigh of frustration. "Yes, I wear it. As the only one in the whole world out of everyone who is eight. Mum says there are some more, but I don't believe her. I've never seen anyone else wearing a nappy!" Jasper looked at Dries doubtfully. "Neither have I," he replied after considering for a long time and not thinking of anyone else. Dries was the only one he knew who was still wetting the bed. Dries let the tears of humiliation flow freely down his cheeks. He felt so unhappy. He felt alone in the world. Jasper looked at Dries uneasily. He noticed the tears and tried to retrace his steps. "Would you really be the only one? Do they make those nappies just for you?" he asked quietly. Dries shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know anyone. I've never seen anyone as big as me wearing one." Dries sobbed, taking long breaths in between. Jasper couldn't stand it, Dries' sadness, and he wanted to do his best to cheer her up. "There must be someone." "No, I've never seen anyone else wearing it. I'm really alone!" "You're not alone. I'm here, aren't I?" Jasper said as he held Dries to comfort him. Jasper hadn't quite understood yet. “But you never wear nappies," Dries cried. Jasper was silent. He indeed never wore a nappy. The boys continued to dress in silence. Dries sobbed over everything that had happened, Jasper thought about everything he had just seen and heard. It was a lot to take in. Dries quickly tucked his nappy and what looked like a T-shirt under the blanket and together they walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Helga looked at the boys in surprise as they returned. The usual chatter was much less than usual and Dries' eyes were a little red and puffy. "Are you all right?" she asked Dries. Dries nodded quietly as he sat down at the table. Helga was curious as to what had been going on between the children, but as they seemed affected but not actively arguing, she let it go. The meal went smoothly, except that Gert was asserting himself. These little children had nothing important to say to him, so the only one worth talking to was himself. After dinner (ribs, oven fries and applesauce), a few games of Mario Kart were played. Jasper usually won the most, because he obviously could have practised a lot more. But this time Dries had a much better chance. Jasper's mind was elsewhere. Dries' exclamation that he was the only one, and that was why he was so unhappy, echoed in his head. And Jasper, sweet and sensitive boy that he was, wanted to see Dries as happy as possible. He tried to come up with various plans, but they are not always realistic or feasible. There are certainly other eight-year-old children who wear nappies at night. But where do you find them? And once you've found them, how can you convince them to admit that they wear them too? Organizing a survey in the football/classroom/friends group might do the trick, but who will be brave enough to admit it? Hide in the shop and see who buys nappy's? Most of the time it will be mums and dads buying them, and you don't know which child it's for or how old they are. And how would Jasper persuade his parents to let him spend half a day in the supermarket doing 'a bit of research'? If not by the boss of the supermarket being thrown out on suspicion of criminal activity. And a tour of the village, ringing bells everywhere, was probably as successful as the chance to win Euromilions. Jasper was calm as he lost round after round of the game. He was quiet when they had to stop playing and were sent upstairs. His head kept spinning and he hadn't noticed that Dries had gone into his room alone with his mother. Until Dries was standing next to him, brushing his teeth. Then Jasper saw that the outline of the nappy was clearly visible in Dries' pyjama bottoms. When Jasper rinsed his mouth, he could hardly take his eyes off it. Dries saw that and the tears came back to his eyes. "I'm sorry," Jasper said, looking away in embarrassment. “I don't want to hurt you," Jasper whispered softly to him. Chapter 4 The children were read a short story by Jasper's mum (The Amazing Tree House with 13 Floors), and with the message that she did not want to come up again to silence the children, she closed the door. “Dries?” Jasper whispered as he heard his mother going down the stairs. “Yes, what is it?” Dries replied. “Shouldn't we be quiet?” “If we whisper it will work. I've been thinking,” Jasper said. Because you feel so alone, because you don't know anyone else who also wears a nappy. I want to help you and I've been thinking about how to find someone else, but I'm not quite sure how...” “See I'm the only one. I'll never see anyone else I know wearing a nappy,” Dries sobbed. “But I know a solution,” Jasper said. “If I put one on right now. Then you won't be so alone anymore.” “Really?” Dries asked. “Are you serious? Would you do that for me?” “Yes,” Jasper whispered back softly. “I'll do anything for you.” Dries' eyes watered again, but this time not from sadness. He knew he had a good friend in Jasper, but he had no idea he would go to such lengths for him. “Give me one and we'll do it right away,” Jasper whispered, curious to know what his friend went through every night. But he also wanted to do it now, before his courage failed him. Now he had enough courage for it, tomorrow during the day he might feel differently. “I can't,” Dries said. “I only have the one I'm wearing. I can't give you another one.” “Then next time at your place.” Jasper said before he knew it. What did I promise now? he asked himself. “Thank you,” Dries said. “You're the best friend anyone could have.” “Don't mention it,” Jasper replied. “Sleep well.” “Sleep well,” Dries whispered before laying his head down. Jasper turned around soon after, both children far away in dreamland. The week passed quickly and the following weekend they had an appointment at Dries' house. Dries had asked several times during the week if Jasper was really going to put on a nappy for him. Sometimes Jasper doubted whether it was a good idea to secretly put on one of Dries' nappies, but the look on Dries' face every time Jasper confirmed immediately knocked all doubts out of him. He would make Dries extremely happy by putting on a nappy as well. Jasper was worried about what would happen if they found out. Would Dries' mom see that an extra nappy was missing from the bag? Would she come into the room at night and see it? Would she then tell his own mothers? What would they say? Jasper was very nervous and afraid of being discovered. He wasn't really afraid of wearing a nappy once, after all he made Dries very happy with it. He was dreading a possible discovery and everything that would come with it. Jasper had gone to Dries' house after lunch that Saturday. He put his luggage in the room and then got ready with Dries to catch reptiles together. Armed with two buckets and two nets, they headed for the stream. After catching one Dries insisted they were salamanders, but Jasper was sure they were lizards. They didn't really know the difference. When they asked Heleen for a definite answer, she only gave them a third option. Heleen joined in and told a whole story about knights, dragons and magic. According to her, these creatures were the distant descendants of ferocious dragons that had been reduced to their present form by the combined strength of two knights (a certain Jasper and Dries), a few elves, wizards, fairies and a whole lot of magic. Jasper and Dries enjoyed the story Heleen had told them, but they were still wondering whether it was a lizard or a salamander. While preparing the beds, Dries and Jasper had secretly taken a diaper from the bathroom and placed it at under the duvet at the foot of Jasper's cot. Kathy, Dries' mother, realised that they were busy with 'plans', but that happened so often. Kathy was not worried, because the next day usually brought stories of great adventures. The evening went well. After dinner, Jasper, Dries and Heleen played another boardgame of Hotel until it was time to go to bed. After Dries and Jasper had gotten dressed and gone to bed, there was a brief moment when there was a close call. Kathy opened the beds so that the children could crawl under the covers, and the diaper that lay at the foot of Jasper's bed was barely exposed. The children lay in bed, listening carefully as Kathy went downstairs. They quietly counted to the agreed hundred, after which Dries declared it safe to carry out their plan. Jasper dug out the nappy from the foot of the bed. It took a while. Finding the front, trying out the tapes, sticking it on again, and after a few well-intentioned tips, explanations and help from Dries, it was more or less fixed. Dries had even pulled down his pyjama bottoms, with red cheeks, then opened his body and pulled it up to show how it should look. When Jasper compared it to himself, it wasn't quite as nicely centred and mirrored, but it didn't fall off as soon as he stood up, so it was good enough. This time Jasper zipped up his second favourite onesie and crawled back into his sleeping bag. Dries beamed with joy. Jasper really was his best friend. There was no one in the world who had a better friend than him. He gave him a quick hug in gratitude. Jasper also felt a little lighter and happier under Dries' positive attention. They were best friends, and the good bond they already had got a huge boost. After some more careful whispering back and forth, Dries fell asleep with a blissful smile on his face. Jasper tossed and turned a little longer. The sensation of the nappy between his legs was exciting, exhilarating and soothing all at the same time. He was still enjoying the smile on Dries' face and he regularly ran his hand between his legs and over his bottom to feel the nappy and listen to the sound it made. He was not very comfortable. It sat a little crooked, pinching one groin more than the other, and he felt that it was all a little too loose. He turned restlessly and fell asleep a little later, lulled by Dries' calm breathing. Jasper woke up a little later in the middle of the night. He had forgotten to pee before going to bed. Nature called and he stumbled across the room, more asleep than awake, towards the door. He turned left towards the toilet and took two steps forward. By the third step he was wide awake and suddenly remembered several things at once: One: He was not at home, but at a sleepover with Dries. Two: The toilet was on the right side of the hall, not on the left. Three: What was on the left was the stairs. Four: When his foot failed to land where he thought it would, falling instead into an empty space, he knew he was on the Staircase.
  17. Hollywood Baby This will be more of a slow burn story, it does involve MDLG, ABDL themes. This is my first story, so please keep criticism constructive. If I can improve my story writing, I am open to critique. I hope that you will enjoy this book. As a general warning there are a few scenes that could be triggering for some folks. There is a scene involving SA, I don’t go into great detail but it is present. There is also Negligent Homicide, again nothing terribly gruesome but it is present. If this was a movie, I would guess it would garner a PG-13 rating. Prologue “It’s good to have money and the things that money can buy, but it’s good, too, to check up once in a while and make sure that you haven’t lost the things that money can’t buy” -George Lorimer “Rich People Don’t have problems, they have inconveniences.” -Kevin Kwan- “Rich People Problems” When you grow up in a wealthy family, it's much much harder to feel that what you've achieved is on your own. And it's much much harder for people to think that what you've achieved is on your own. -David Rubenstein “Growing up rich must be so cool! You can do whatever you want,” “I wish my Mom and Dad were famous!” -General Public Quotes like these are things I’ve heard all of my life from those who idolize being rich and famous, and while yes, it is nice growing up wanting for nothing, it’s not everything. I have experienced my own hardships, maybe not as much as those with less but hardships none the less. In this book, I will recount my experiences growing up as the child of two of Hollywood’s biggest stars, and how my life began again at eighteen. The passages of this book are a combination of summarized journal entries and the best of my recollection. I have tried to be as accurate as possible.
  18. Hello, this is another idea I've had for a fair bit. It may be slightly influenced by French Whines (kudos to the author of it; probably one of my favorite stories I've read on this site), except...well, this is more supernatural than anything. And now, for WARNINGS: there will be political undercurrents in this story. If you're not a fan of Israel or Arab countries, well, I will say this story probably won't be for you (as I am ethnically Jewish from my mom and have the utmost respect for all religions - so long as they aren't hurting people - including Christianity and Islam, my feelings, as much as I want to be an impartial observer, may spill out. I apologize beforehand, but this story is something I feel I had to write from the bottom of my heart after all that's happened). But I PROMISE beforehand, there will be a good ending to this; I may be cynical about our irl chances if/when another huge war spills out, but that doesn't mean this story has to be. Of course, politics and the bigotry (portrayed in antagonists INCLUDING THIS CHAPTER, JUST SO YOU'RE WARNED) are there, but I promise to be respectful in that regard. Violence is there, given the subject matter. Language is a given with any of my stories. And of course, gender-swapping is a major thing, and I promise to be respectful in that regard as well. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Thank you in advance! Now, to start the story: - Chapter One: Death is Not the End. - Lieutenant Lavi Zingel’s calm brown eyes were constantly aware of their surroundings, for danger was close by. He was deep undercover in Sayeret Matkal’s operation in Egypt; if he was found out, Israel could deny any involvement. Operation Rebirth was risky, but he had been the first to volunteer for it. It was all he could do for his country, was it not? Ten top Israeli scientists had been captured by a shadowy Iranian-proxy organization, and it required a delicate touch; only one man could be sent to infiltrate, and he was perfect, as he was of Arabic and Jewish descent (from his father and mother, respectively), and looked the part with dark olive skin, and a full dark-brown beard. Mossad was worried that Alraabitat Almunahidat Lilsihyuniati (Anti-Zionist League, honestly, couldn’t they think of a more original name than that?) was forcing the scientists to build nuclear weapons in Egypt, which would then be shipped to Syria and Lebanon. Zingel was as skilled a combatant as had ever gone through Sayeret Matkal; everyone in the secretive unit knew it. He had aced every test, physical, medical, psychological, had been pushed to his limits and beyond, and he had come out of it stronger than ever before, a weapon who could kill a man hundreds of different ways. But the main thing that separated him from the others was his mind. He was an omniglot, fluent in over twenty languages and dialects. He had graduated top of his class in high school, a 750 on the Psychometric Entrance Test, summa cum laude in all classes, with a bagrut certificate. He was knowledgeable about how nuclear weapons worked, having had his Egyptian-Israeli father and Israeli mother working on them. It didn’t surprise him that he was the first choice for the mission. What did surprise him, as he looked at the weapons, was that they were far from nuclear armaments. Quite simply, as he looked at the manifests, saw the tired scientists working (not just Israeli, but Egyptian as well), it was far from nuclear. This was a weapon of which the likes had never been seen on this planet before, something he had as much a clue about as the workings of God: in other words, none. Then there was shouting, and he turned around to see a large Arabic man hit a short, heavyset Egyptian woman, who took the hit with stunned disbelief. “I don’t want excuses!” the man roared. “I wanted Project Rebirth to be up-and-running a week ago! I should kill you all, you worthless piles of shit!” “But…what you’re asking…” one of the Israeli scientists, a woman, spoke up timidly. “It’s impossible. This is God’s work, not-” “I DON’T GIVE A DAMN WHAT PIGS LIKE YOU SAY!” the man shouted, closing the distance and shoving a gun in the scientist’s face. “I wanted this to be done long ago! It should’ve been sent to Lebanon and Syria long ago! It should’ve detonated in Tel Aviv, the city of rats like you, long ago!” Zingel was torn. On the one hand, nothing could compromise his identity. Mossad specifically said that the weapons were the priority. But compassion had been instilled in him as well from his parents, and he wanted to rescue the hostages - for clearly the Egyptian scientists were just as much hostages as the Israelis. He took a chance. “Excuse me, sir,” Zingel said politely. “Yes, what is it?” the man snapped. “If we kill them, all hope for Project Rebirth is lost.” The operative was using all of his silver-tongued charm to both keep his cover and spare the lives of the hostages. “And the Zionists would attack us without recourse. Wouldn’t it be better to spare them just a day?” The man gave the operative a cold look. “Who the hell are you?” he snapped. “Dr. Mourad Slimani,” Zingel said in a perfect Algerian Arabic dialect. “I’ve been on this project since day one.” The man gave him a smile. “Well, Dr. Slimani, I suppose there’s no harm,” he said with a shrug. “It’s mostly finished anyway. All that’s left is to shoot them.” Zingel didn’t even blink, didn’t give anything away. “And once the weapon has been tested? What’s stopping the Zionists from attacking? You have to know that they’d send someone?” “I’d be surprised if they didn’t, my good doctor. But I suppose a heretic is as good as an infidel for this purpose.” He holstered his first pistol and grabbed the heavyset Egyptian woman - who had surprisingly dark skin for an Egyptian - by the hair with one hand, a second gun in the other, as she pleaded, “Please, please, I’m a mother, I have children!” “Shut up, you warped whore!” The man hit her in the face with the pistol. “I’ve killed many mothers and their children; don’t think you can negotiate that way with your life on the line!” A cruel smile played on his face. “But I’m not going to shoot you. He is.” He flipped the gun to offer to Zingel. “You can’t be serious! I’m a doctor, I swore not to take lives!” he protested. “You can shoot her…or I can. I can give you five seconds to decide, Dr. Slimani.” Zingel was trapped, and he knew it when he felt the weight of the semi-auto pistol. There was only one bullet in the chamber, which could only mean one thing: he was burnt. Who did it didn’t matter; he knew his cover had been blown. What he did next was impulsive as hell, but he didn’t feel like he had an option. He took the gun…and dropped it, proceeding to draw a hidden knife from his lab coat, grabbing the large man by the throat and backing them both against the wall, as armed guards went in the room, aiming their weapons at them. “You know you don’t have to shoot any of them,” the operative said calmly, as more guards had arrived and had drawn their weapons, shouting at him. The scientists were cowering on the floor…except for the heavyset Egyptian, who was looking at him…curiously? “You know damn well that these aren’t nuclear weapons.” “Of course not!” the man laughed. “Is that what your precious Zionist special agency said, ‘Dr. Slimani’ - or, should I say, Lieutenant Lavi Zingel? They’re not infallible.” “Then what are they?” “Something that will end the lives of all Zionists, purge the Western infidels, and-” “Shut up!” Zingel spat, drawing a tiny bit of blood from the man’s throat. “I asked what the weapons did, not the overarching goal.” “Why should I tell you anything?” “We’re both dead men either way. Feel free to state what you were planning on doing. I don’t have a wiretap, on my oath to God.” “The oath to your god?” “No. It can be yours if you wish. But I have no reason to lie. You’re the leader of this project. So spill.” The man laughed. “You should’ve been born a merchant, not an Israeli pig with that tongue of yours. Devil’s tongue. You think I’m the leader of this project? You think I’m in charge? No, this reaches far beyond your limited comprehension, into the heart of your supposed ‘allies’.” Zingel’s heart dropped. “The United States.” “Very perceptive of you. That is correct: there is an element in the United States who wants this weapon and would pay us by knifing the Zionist regime in the back. I don’t care what the hell they do with this weapon; they’ve paid us with nuclear armaments already. Israel will soon be no more!” “Not if I have anything to say about it!” The man stabbed the Israeli operative in the leg with an odd stone knife and shouted, “Praise be to God! Open fire!” Zingel felt the pain from the stone knife lance through his leg, felt shots nail him in his torso, passing through the man to get to his heart, as the knives from both slipped from their grasps. He slumped against the wall, tearing out the knife he had been stabbed with - it had hit his femoral artery, and he knew he was a dead man anyway, no matter what - breathing ragged gasps. The Arab man was dead, a sadistic grin permanently etched on his face. “That. Is. Enough.” The Israeli looked in shock as the Egyptian woman, now twice as tall as any man and bearing animalian features all over her body: the paws and limbs of a lioness, a crocodilian tail and back, the breasts of a human woman, and the face of a hippopotamus. A very angry hippo. The scared guards aimed at her, but she merely waved a paw, and the guns melted away, the armed guards in the room shriveling into mummies in an alarmingly-short time. The Israeli and Egyptian scientists had their eyes closed and were seemingly sleeping before they vanished into thin air. “Wha-” Zingel coughed up blood, as the creature turned to him. He cowered; he knew enough about Egyptian mythology from his father to know who this…goddess was. But he saw her eyes soften when they saw him. “Shh…it is okay, little one,” she cooed. “I am here.” “But…Ta-wa-ret…” His eyes were tinged red, darkness slowly slipping over them, as he hacked up blood from his ruined lungs. “Yes.” Tawaret’s black eyes were warm, and a sense of security washed over the dying man. “The scientists are safe, away from here, their memories of these horrors gone. But you…you have been hurt with the weapon, my own powers. I cannot heal you, but there is another way I can keep you alive. You, the bridge between worlds, the one who does what is right, must stay alive, must find the ability to stop the world from warring once again, for it will be the end of all. Do you understand, little one? Just nod if you agree.” Lavi Zingel nodded once, as the last breath left his body and darkness swallowed him whole. - I will explain what all of the Israeli things mean (I hope Google Translator did okay with the rare Arabic...): Sayeret Matkal = Israeli special forces, equivalent to British Special Air Service and United States Delta Force. Specializes in deep reconnaissance for intelligence gathering, but also does black operations, combat search-and-rescue, counterterrorism, hostage rescue, manhunts beyond Israel's borders, etc. Mossad = National intelligence agency for Israel, responsible for gathering information, counterterrorism, and covert operations. Much like United States' CIA. Psychometric Entrance Test = Israel's standardized test/entrance exam, based on quantitative reasoning, verbal reasoning, and English. Scores range from 200 to 800. Basically, that means that Lavi's a genius. Bagrut certificate = A certificate that says a student passed the matriculation exam for Israel. High scoring ones like what Lavi had are necessary to go into higher-leveled jobs.
  19. JE PUNK

    Magic Pjs

    Rei was a small 10 year old girl sighed as she entered her room and opened her drawer to grab her pjs to get ready for bed “Huh what are these I’ve never seen these before
  20. I have started writing a new story. I hope to finish this one. I'm sure there are grammar and mistakes because I'm not a professional writer. Hope you enjoy. Emily stood still as her soon to be Step-Aunt and Step-Grandmother made sure her dress was just right. Emily hated the dress. Her dress was exactly the same as her soon to be step-sister. Now you would think 'whats the big deal'. Well, the big deal is, her soon to be step-sister is 8 years younger then Emily, not that you could tell if you seen the pair standing together today. Emily had just turned thirteen two months ago and here she was wearing the very same thing her five year old, soon to be step-sister was wearing. Well, almost the very same thing. 2 weeks ago...... Emily and her mother Beth stood in the baggage claim area of the local airport waiting for their two bags to come around. Beth held onto her daughters hand as they waited. Emily hated that her mother still insisted she hold her mother's hand when a large crowd of people were around them, but today was not the day for arguing. She knew her mother was stressed and arguing about having to hold her hand would most likely not turn out good for her. Beth was wearing a pair of jeans and sweater. She had dressed for comfort today, not style. She had taken the two hour flight from Winnipeg to Hamilton many times in the past year to spend time with her soon to be husband and knew it was better to be dressed for comfort. Emily was small for her age but then again so was her mother. The average height of a 13 year old girl is 5'4", Emily stood at only 4'7" and weighed just under 80lbs. She was a very cute girl, with long blonde hair like her mothers. Emily probably had no chance at becoming very tall, as Beth only stood at 5'3". Emily also had on a pair of blue jeans but she decided on a t-shirt instead of a sweater. Their bags finally made it around and Beth keeping a hold of Emily's hand, grabbed both bags. She pulled out the handles and placed Emily's beside her. Emily took a hold of the pink suitcase, with a picture of Cinderella on the front and back. Emily had not traveled for many years and this was the only suitcase she had. She tried to get her mother to buy another one but Beth told her it was fine. They had shipped all their other belongings a few days ago. The two made their way out of the baggage claim area and Beth looked around for her soon to be sister-in-law Kim. Kim stood watching for Beth and Emily. Kim had on a summer dress and looked very sharp. Her long, toned and tanned legs were very attractive. She spotted Beth and walked around a couple that were in front of her, holding her hand up. "Beth. Over here." Kim yelled out. Beth heard and spotted Kim. She pulled Emily towards her. Kim meet them and smiled. She reached out and hugged the much smaller women. "it's so good to see you again Beth. Did you have a good flight?" Beth didn't let go of Emily's hand or her suitcase as Kim wrapped her arms around her. "Nice to see you. The flight was good." Kim let go of Beth and then looked down at Emily. "Ohhhh and this must be Emily." Kim bent down. "It's so nice to finally meet you sweetheart." Kim gave Emily a big hug, almost picking her up off the floor. "Emily this is Peter's sister Kim." Beth said. Emily waited for Kim to let her go before saying. "Hi." "My, you're way cuter in person then the pictures your mommy has shown me." Kim said, still bent down so she was looking into Emily's eyes. Emily wasn't keen on Kim calling her Mom, mommy but didn't give it too much more thought. "Uhmm..Thank you." Kim stood back up, straightening out her dress. " Are we all set then? No one needs to use the potty?" Beth said looking at Emily then Beth. Beth looked at Emily. Emily looked at her mom. They were both not sure who Kim was talking to. They looked back towards Kim and both said, "No." at the same time. Kim smiled. "Then I guess we're already then. I'm just parked out there." Kim pointing out the glass window. "Follow me." Beth and Emily had to walk pretty fast to keep up with the clicking heels of Kim. They all made it outside. The sun was shining bright and there was not a cloud in the sky. Kim slowed a little as she looked back and notice her two followers were a little behind. Kim stood before the road in front of the airport and waited. Kim got between the two and took ahold of both their hands. Both Emily and Beth looked up at Kim when she took their hands. When Kim started walking they had no choice but to start walking themselves. It didn't bother Emily to much about holding Kim's hand but Beth was very confused as to why Kim had taken her hand. They came up to the back of a big black SUV and Kim opened the back. She took Emily's suitcase and set it in. Then she took a hold of Beth's and placed it beside Emily's. Kim pushed a button and the back closed. She took Emily's hand and walked her to the door behind the drivers seat. "All set then. Up you go." Emily took a step back when she saw the car seat. She was confused as to why there was a car seat . "I will go around to the other side." Beth had already opened the passengers door and was just going to sit down when she heard Emily. She turned and looked in the back seat at the pink and purple car seat. "No honey this is your side. Sarah's car seat is on the other side." "But..I don't need a carseat, I'm 13." Emily whined. "I'm sorry sweetheart but that's the law here in Ontario. Any child under 4'9" have to be in a carseat." Kim stated. Beth quickly got back out of the truck and made her way around to the other side. She could see Emily was upset. "Kim. I don't think a carseat is necessary for Emily. She hasn't rode in a car seat for a very long time." "I'm sorry hon. I thought you knew about this." Kim said placing her hand on Beth's shoulder. "Did Peter not mention it to you?" "Mention what?." Kim pulled out her phone from her purse and typed. She picked up her phone to show Beth and then quickly pulled it back up. "Here is what the law states.'Car seats are required for children under 80lbs and stand less than 4'9". Kim left out the last part as to Peter's instructions. 'and who are under the age of eight'. "So as you can see, that's why Peter bought the seat for Emily." Beth was a little taken back and wasn't sure what to say. "Peter never said anything to me about this." Kim placed her phone back into her purse. "Are you sure, because I remember him asking you about Emily's size just a few weeks ago." Beth thought back. She does remember Peter asking her about Emily but she doesn't remember him mentioning anything about a car seat. "Well, I do remember him asking about Emily. But..." Kim stopped Beth from continuing. "Anyways. We need to get going. You have a busy day and I still need to pick up Sarah. Come on Emily. Up in your seat." Emily couldn't believe what was happening. She heard Kim state the law but she couldn't believe it. She took another little step back. Before she got too far, Kim grabbed her hand. "Come on honey. I'm sure the seat is comfortable and I know it's safe." Kim pulled Emily forward. "Can you jump up or do you need a lift?" Emily just stood there not wanting to get into a car seat. "But I'm 13. I don't need to sit in that." Kim's patience was running low. She took control by taking Emily from under her arms and lifting into the truck. She turned her and then quickly lifted the girl into the car seat. "No. Please. I don't need to ride in this." Emily yelled. Before Emily could even try and got out, Kim pulled her arms through the harness and then pressed each side into the strap between Emily's legs. In just a few seconds the 3-point harness was pulled tight, trapping Emily in. Emily kick her legs and in doing so, her feet hit the back of the drivers seat, leaving a little dirt from her shoes. "Now Emily, please behave." With out warning, Kim pulled Emily's sneakers off both her feet and sat them on the floor. Kim shut the door. Beth looked up at Kim. "I'm not sure about this. Is it really necessary? She is 13 years old?" Kim leaned down. "I'm sorry Beth but I'm not getting a ticket because Emily isn't in a car seat. Do you want to pay $250, maybe more?" "Well no but...." "Well then. She is going to have to get use to it until she grows a little. Now come on. We have lots to do." Kim took Beth's hand and lead her around the other side of the truck. She opened her door. "Buckle up." Beth didn't have anymore to argue and when Kim took a hold of her hand again. She just followed her around and slowly got into the passengers side. Emily kicked her feet once again, hitting the back of Kim's seat just as Kim was backing out of the parking spot. Kim stopped the truck and looked in the rear view mirror. "Emily please don't kick my seat again." Emily threw her head back into the car seat and closed her eyes. She so wanted to kick the seat again and again and again. Kim waited for a few seconds and then began to pull out of the parking spot. She looked over at Beth once she was out of the parking lot. "It's a good thing you're not any shorter." Beth turned her head. "Pardon?" Kim smiled. "I was just thinking. Peter likes to have things equal and if you were any shorter he might have had to buy two car seats." Beth didn't know what to say but Kim started laughing so Beth joined her. "Very funny." "I thought so." Kim replied.
  21. Chapter 1: “Abby, is this really necessary?” A whine sounded from her throat. Dani crossed her arms over her chest, pouting at the ceiling as her legs were held up by the ankles. A warm wipe made its way over her nether regions, cleansing every inch of her dirty bottom and between her legs. “Yes, Dani, this is necessary. It’s necessary when you willfully disregard all instructions not to eat gluten. Really, Dani, what were you thinking?” her voice was firm, not angry, but the disappointment was clear. She’d only had a tiny bite of cake left on the counter and it was only too tempting dipping her finger into the frosting and biting into the yummy sweetness. The doctor said she had Celiac disease but Dani hadn’t believed a word they said. These Amazon’s were on a power trip and the only thing the doctor believed she should be having was milk straight from an Amazon’s tit. But now her tummy ached and the messy explosion down below was the result. Abby stared down at her with the same condescending look given to all Littles trying to prove they were bigger than they actually were. “Just because you are a Little does not mean we are all out to get you. Believe it or not, Doctor Heany actually wanted to help you. This is all your own fault, Daniella. You have no reason to be upset.” Okay, she did have a point, the Little reluctantly agreed. But, that didn’t mean she had to diaper her! Dani squirmed, wiggling around on the table as the Amazon woman reached down below, pulling out the thick padding. “NO!” She cried out, anxious to get away from the monstrous article of clothing, if it could even be called that. Dani knew she had been extremely lucky the past several years. The apartment building she used to live in decided they’d no longer accommodate unadopted Little’s after her neighbor had left the sink faucet running and fell asleep which resulted in the flooding of the entire apartment. The damage wasn’t extreme but the Landlord was not pleased. The Little was adopted not even a day later and the Landlord refused to rent to Little’s any longer. It wasn’t that Dani didn’t understand the Landlord’s frustrations but everything in this world was Amazon size, meant for those eight feet and taller. They had step stools and ladders and accommodations were made for the regressed but the average unadopted Little hardly stood a chance, especially when they couldn’t even reach a sink faucet - a task that would be simple if she wasn’t so short. And she’d gotten lucky, finding an Amazon that would even rent to her in the first place because most places wouldn’t even entertain the thought. A Little pretending to be an adult, no more mature than a toddler, yeah that’ll go well… Knowing she was about to be booted out on the street, tears welled up in her eyes. She was the prime candidate for any Amazon. They just couldn’t ignore their parental instincts, seeing a Little in distress (or any Little in general). The urge to smother them with “love” back into diapers and turn their brains to mush was too strong. But Abby wasn’t like the other Amazon’s - not really, well, kind of - she was different. Abby had saved her. But it’s not how she saw it at the time. Dani had been arguing with the Landlord, a grumpy ten foot tall man who never had time for Little’s and their whims (as he liked to put it) about just needing another day or two to move out her stuff. Her best friend said she could stay with her for a while until she was sorted. But she had too much stuff to move in twenty-four hours coupled with the fact there were about fifty other Little’s moving out the same day, it was an impossible task they were meant to fail at. Look at all the Littles, too immature to follow directions correctly. Too tiny to even lift and carry out all their items. That is why instead of them doing the carrying, they need to be carried by a big and strong Amazon. He’d all but laughed in her face as she continued to argue her case, not only for herself but other fellow Littles. However, it wasn’t until after, she’d realized she’d gone a bit too far. “I’m half tempted to call the adoption center!” The man exclaimed. “Not even able to follow proper instructions, disrespectful and talking back? This is a serious case of Maturosis.” Oh god. Her heart had dropped to the bottom of her stomach, unable to do anything as she watched him pull out her phone. “Please!” She pleaded. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry-” “What’s going on here?” They’d both turned around at the sound of the voice. An Amazon, one of the tallest she’d ever seen, came strutting over across the lobby. The woman must have been about thirteen feet and that was tall for Amazon standards. Unconsciously, she backed up, eager to be rid of both Giants because while one was worrisome, two was a nightmare. “Miss Brady!” The man’s voice turned jovial at the site of his fellow Amazon. “Nothing to worry about here. Just the standard case of Maturosis, I’m dialing the adoption center as we speak.” Tears poured down her cheeks and the Amazon stared down at her, blue eyes shining with an expression she couldn’t make out. The Amazon was beautiful and blonde with curves she could only dream of having. “Oh don’t do that,” the woman smiled, waving her hand. “I’ve been searching for a Little for myself actually! I think Little Miss -“ “Daniella Avery.” Said the man with a Cheshire cat grin as he hung up his phone. “Miss Avery would be absolutely perfect! You don’t have to worry about her apartment. I’ll take it over as well.” The Little didn’t have time to run as she was quickly scooped up and swung over her shoulder. The girl let out what could only be described as a tantrum. Kicking and screaming and pounding on the Amazon’s back, that should have been the end. At twenty-one years old, this should have been the point where her life drastically changed forever and any happiness she contained disappeared. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was quite the opposite. OoOoo Abby won in the end, like always, and could only smile at the pouting Little who couldn’t have been any more adorable in her puffy pink diaper secured tightly around her waist. Honestly, she’d be content making her go out dressed in only that but Abby really didn’t have the energy to deal with the tantrum that would surely ensue. “Why can’t I at least wear a pull-up?” “Do I really need to explain this Dani?” She did not. The Little stayed silent. “You know what we agreed on. Say it.” Her hand landed down on her pale thigh tainted pink, having been slapped one to many times in response to her poor behavior. Dani frowned, rubbing at her wet eyes. “Mommy knows best and Little girls need to learn that their naughty behavior has consequences,” diapers being it. All Abby really required was obedience and a companion to watch over but not regress. The Amazon, unlike most others, did not desire a baby to look after or to be called Mommy or diaper full-time. She wanted a Little she could snuggle up with at the end of the night, a Little that would still maintain their adult mind and could have normal conversations yet acknowledge their place in an Amazon's world. Dani could handle that because her Mommy, for all-intents and purposes, always said, it could be a lot worse. She had freedoms, too many to count and it just came over the small price of being fussed over and treated at the most like a five to six year old. However, the times she was diapered, dressed up in humiliating garb and made to nurse were her own fault. It was her own stupid actions having landed her in this position. Like now. But Dani knew, if she even voiced a desire to be regressed, Abby wouldn’t hesitate. Instincts always won over in the end. “Very good,” Abby smiled, patting her head. “Arms up.” The Little complied, allowing the sparkly blue dress to be slipped over her head ending just past her knees. Abby would’ve had her permanently dressed in pink just like her nursery and about every babyish outfit she owned but seeing a diapered Little in pink and alone in public was a recipe for disaster. Hands under her armpits, she was lifted to the ground. Her legs wobbled attempting to catch her balance having been on her backside for way too long. Her head didn’t even reach halfway up to the changing table just like every other item in Amazonia and while Dani was proud to be Little, she wished she were just a few feet taller. Only at 4’8, she was short even for Little standards which made her even more delectable to the Amazons and absolutely impossible to be taken seriously, more so than her fellow Littles. Now, Abby hummed a tune, something familiar from her childhood as they stood at the mirror, brushing her red curls back into a low ponytail. “All my friends are going to see that I’m wearing a diaper,” Dani sulked looking down at the ground because she couldn’t bear to stare at her own reflection. “You don’t have to play with your friends. We can always stay here and have a Baby day. We can watch your favorite movie and cuddle and have bathtime. I know how much you love bubbles.” Her cheeks turn pink at every word, worse than the last. Dani was mortified to admit how much she actually enjoyed herself during those times. It was maybe only a year after she’d been adopted that she truly let herself relax and indulge in the lack of responsibilities, realizing she wouldn’t be taken advantage of. Being taken care of for once instead of having to worry about her every little move, was a nice change. Still, Dani couldn’t help but feel guilty, knowing this was exactly what so many Little’s were fighting against, what she had fought against, and here she was enjoying it. Even now, Dani wouldn’t mind a cozy day in her favorite fuzzy pajamas. But the Little knew it was more of a punishment and there was no fun in being reminded of how stupid she’d been. “What if they say something? What if they laugh at me?” “Then they are not your friends.” Finished tying the black ribbon at the top of her hair, she was lifted into her arms. “My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore though. I don’t need a diaper, really. I’ll be fine.” “But we can’t be sure, can we?” The woman gave her a look. “Besides, you don’t have to go to your friend's house at all but I know how much you were looking forward to the, what was it… bachelorette party?” No! She couldn’t miss it! Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she carefully considered her next words. Abby would keep her home if she really wanted too. She didn’t even have to let her keep seeing her friends and that’s what Dani appreciated the most. But like everyone, the Amazon had her limits and Dani was inching dangerously close to crossing the line. “You’re right.” The Little finally muttered in defeat. There was no arguing her way out of this one. “Of course I am!” She bounced her in her arms. “Mommy is always right!” OoOoo It was a sunny August day as they made their way outside from the third floor and out onto the busy street. Surprisingly, Dani had no fight as she was strapped into the pink stroller (which was always a problem). Abby watched as she laid her head back, soaking up the sun and her eyes closed. A hint of a smile appeared on her lips at the very visible sight of the puffiness beneath her dress, pulled up by the strap between her thighs. She’d fussed at the frilly white socks and Mary Jane’s but really, it was the least of her concerns. Even just the tiniest argument allowed her to maintain her sanity, showing that she still had a voice to fight back against her imprisonment. She closed her eyes as to not see all the cooing Amazon’s, pretending she was somewhere on a warm island sipping a Mimosa and not stuck in this horrible contraption they called a stroller. It was a quick walk, about twenty minutes away yet it couldn’t have felt shorter as they came to a stop in front of the five story building. Tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, the area was predominantly occupied by Littles and Inbetweeners, not quite as big as Amazons but still tall enough that they were ignored by the Amazons. “Here we are!” Abby chirped. Leaning down to undo all the belts, Dani didn’t hesitate to hop out, seeing that they were alone on the street. “Here is your phone and gift for your friend,” she reached down into the bottom pocket of the stroller. “Are you fine to go in on your own?” “Yes!” Dani said eagerly, grabbing the wrapped present and tiny flip phone. The last thing she needed was her friends seeing her Mommy walking her inside like a baby. “Very well. Do you remember our rules?” Abby bent down, taking her chin in her hand so she couldn’t look away. “Yes,” she sighed. “No drinking, no dirty behavior and no boys.” Dani struggled not to roll her eyes. It was the tiny restrictions like this that got her the most fed up. She was twenty-one years old for crying out loud and the girl had needs! “I will be back at six pm but text me if you need me beforehand or want to come home early. I will be here in a jiffy.” “Six?” Dani sputtered, doing her best not to stomp her foot. “That’s only five hours! The party is going on all night -!” “Daniella!” She said sharply. “I’ve been very patient all morning with your little fits. Do you want me to make it shorter? Do you want to go at all? We can turn around right now and go back home. We could also go upstairs and spank your little bottom in front of all of your friends.” A dark look had settled over her eyes, warning she was on her last straw. “B-but,” tears just about welled up in her eyes. “I hardly see Carly and it’s her most special day! Can I stay until ten at least? Pleaseeee?” “Absolutely not. Six o’clock.” “What about nine?” Abby paused, seemingly considering her words. After a pregnant pause she said, “eight o’clock.” “Eight-forty five-“ “Daniella…” her hand warningly grasped her bottom. “Fine.” She relented. “Eight o’clock.” The Amazon sighed. “That’s your bedtime so I don't want any whiny girl later on and don’t even try to argue for overnight since there is no adult present.” “Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I’ll be good!” Dani couldn’t help but squeal, knowing this was the best she was gonna get. Attacking Abby with a hug to the neck and a thousand kisses to the cheek, really she was grateful. How sad was that… happy for just another two hours… oh how much she’d fallen. Her reaction was adorable, melting the Amazon’s heart because all she wanted was for her Little girl to be happy. She didn’t want to leave her alone with a bunch of other Little’s, especially with the very grown up behaviors they still presented, but it was a necessary sacrifice if she didn’t want Dani to despise her forever. Unlike other Amazon’s, she actually cared how her Little felt which was not a popular sentiment. “Now run along,” she sighed, disentangling her arms and patting her bottom. “You don’t want to be late.” OoOoo The receptionist knew her by now, a kind Inbetweener who really didn’t care if she was Little or not just as long as no trouble was caused. She said hello, practically skipping towards the elevator that for once was placed at the right height so she could press the button. The only reason Dani hadn’t moved in here was because the complex had reached their quota for Little’s allowed. Only thirty-five percent could be occupied by Little’s in order to accommodate the Inbetweeners so they wouldn’t feel upstaged. Not that it really mattered in the end, but still, it made her pissy just thinking about the stupid rule. It was a quick ride up to the fourth floor and the party was already in full swing. “Dani!” Squeals broke out throughout the room as she walked through the unlocked door. She was embraced with hugs from her already tipsy friends, not only drunk on happiness. “Congratulations!” She exclaimed finally seeing the blonde bombshell of her best friend. She embraced the bride to be in a short white dress meant to show off her boobs and ass in the best way possible. Abby would have a stroke if she saw what she was wearing right now. Dani couldn’t help but think. “Wha-what are you wearing?” Carly stepped back, finally taking in her appearance. Her face heated up, realizing all eyes were on her and the room had gone quiet. It wasn’t a secret that she was adopted but it was embarrassing knowing she was different from everyone else. Sometimes, the energy was just off. There was them and then there was her. It was almost as if they were weary of her, as if her Littleness would rub off on them somehow. They were still her friends, nothing would change that, but these days she felt even more insecure. “Abby.” Is all she said. Hums of realization went around the living room. “I’ve got clothes and makeup in my room,” said Carly. “Go change and for fucks sake, take off the diaper. No Amazon is ruining our night.” Oh, she didn’t have to say that twice! A smile lit up her face as the energy resumed and she rushed off. A few minutes later, there are large exaggerated bangs on the bedroom door. “Knock knock knock! Open up bitch!” Olivia. She smirked. “I’m naked!” “Even better!” The door opened to reveal the girl who had been with her through thick and thin. The girl who’d contemplated begging Abby to adopt her just so they could remain together before Dani had told her what a stupid ridiculous idea that was. But that’s who Olivia was. Crass, confident and unequivocally lovable. Her caramel skin positively glowed, hair pulled up in a crown of long braids in a short midnight black dress and don’t even get her started on her long tanned legs. She’d always been the hot girl in college. The one all the boys chased after and every other girl wanted to be. “You look hot. Is that a new brand of diapers? Gucci? I heard they’re making them extra absorbent nowadays.” “Oh shut up!” They collapse into a fit of laughter, jumping on their friend’s queen size bed. Olivia was the one person she didn’t need to hide around, the one person who could turn any awkward situation into a joke and who didn’t really seem to care about her new status in life. “Help me choose an outfit before they start wondering where we are. Jesus, she’s got so many clothes.” She walks to the closet, pulling out a blood red corset dress with a dangerous slit up the side. “Too slutty?” Oliva’s brows wiggled in a suggestive manner. “Not enough!” “Perhaps, we should consult with Mommy dearest. I wonder, does she have any matching red diapers?” “Don’t give her ideas,” Dani shuttered at the thought. “Now help me into that thing and do my makeup. I want to look our age for once.” OoOoo Bachelorette parties were supposed to be sweet and wholesome, celebrating the start of a new chapter in the woman’s life. For Carly, there would be none of that cutesy crap. As Littles they already dealt with it enough. Early marriage wasn’t uncommon for Littles in Amazonia because one day you could be free and the next day stuck in a crib. You never knew how much time you had. Dani hadn’t even gotten to the point of finding a boyfriend before being adopted and the thought of marriage was a faraway dream. That’s why she couldn’t have been any more happy for her friend, getting to live out all of her fantasies. “Are you staying the night?” Olivia asked as she carefully applied her eyeliner. “Until eight.” Dani sighed. “Let me guess, Abby?” “You bet.” She muttered. ”Good thing you’ll be here for the stripper then.” “Stripper!” Dani gasped, eyes flying wide-open. “Shhh!” Olivia put her fingers to her lips. “It’s a surprise. We planned it for Carly. Don’t say anything to her!” “H-how’d you even find one?” “The Underground, duh. How else would we?” It was no surprise that any raunchy, sexual activity including drinking were off limits to Little’s. Anything that threatened the innocence of a Little was outlawed. That’s why there was the Underground. Anything a Little needed could be found there. Alcohol, Lingerie, certain activities… you just needed to know where to look. “We figured you couldn’t stay the night so they’re coming at half six.” Dani was grateful for the thought, yet her face still turned as red as her hair. They shouldn’t have to make decisions like this in the first place or change the plans just to accommodate her. Often she wondered if her presence was more of a hindrance. “Don’t be like that,” Olivia nudged her playfully. “I love you. Carly loves you. We all love you. Let loose, have some fun before you go back to baby jail. Perhaps you’ll just meet the love of your life.” Dani barked a laugh. Imagine. A stripper and a diapered Little. That would make one hell of a story. OoOoo A/N: Hey all! I know it’s been such a long time since I’ve posted but I’ve been so busy with school. I’m coming up on my last year of college, I’m in the middle of an internship and getting ready for Masters programs so literally I’ve had no time for anything else! I just wanted to post a little something because I need a break from everything. I know that I have so many stories going on but when something pops in my head, I’ve got write it down! I’ve got about one hundred drafts of different stories written but I’m still working on Baby Dolls and whatever else is posted right now. I’m not really sure how long this story will be but please stick with me! This is my first time writing a diaper dimension story so please share your thoughts and as always, I love reviews! Also, I had no clue what to title this so any better suggestions are welcome!!!
  22. Part 1: Paige hitched her backpack up onto her shoulder as she hefted two black garbage bags off the passenger seat of her car before easing the door shut with her hip. She was 20 and short, barely 5 feet tall, and she had wavy light brown hair that frizzed out around her face unless she held it back with clips or bands, or like today, sunglasses perched lazily on top of her head. She might not look it, based on the number of times she was carded for R-rated movies or given children’s menus at restaurants, but she was soon to start her junior year of college. She was living back home for the summer break to save money on housing, and to “bond” with her soon-to-be stepfather and 18 year old step-sister. Though she hated that idea and saw much more than polite small talk with either of them unlikely, she was still looking forward to the summer at home. Paige knew that she should really look for a job or at least an internship and that many open spots were already filling up, but at the same time she felt like she deserved a little bit of a break after such a hard semester. Working on the whole new-family thing would be work enough, anyway, she reasoned. Or at least that was what she had told her dubious mom when Paige had confessed her failure to secure summer employment. Having a roommate at college, nice as she was, had also meant that Paige had little alone time and made indulging in her ABDL interests basically impossible save for some late night online reading and photo browsing and the couple of weekends where the girl, Tess had gone to see her boyfriend. It would be nice to be able to have the house to herself during the days and her own room with a lock on the door at night. And for as long as she didn’t have a job, she would have the house to herself, despite the two new inhabitants who had moved in this year. Jake and her mom both worked weekdays and from what she had heard, went out together most nights or invited friends over to the house. Her mom’s social life had quickly dwarfed Paige’s own. As for Mia, the girl was equally gregarious, it seemed. From what she had heard and experienced in her brief meetings with the girl, Paige thought that she was nice enough, but they didn’t have many shared interests. Mia loved to run, hike, and cook, woke up at the crack of dawn to get laps in at the community pool, went out with friends and her boyfriend all the time, and this summer, she had not one, but two jobs lined up already, on top of her full social calendar. Paige would much rather watch nostalgic cartoons and eat pop tarts and captain crunch on the couch than do a 5k for childhood diabetes, and she was perfectly fine with that. Mia on the other hand, would come down to the sight of this during winter break, having already swam miles and miles, showered, and changed, only to whip up egg white omelets for herself and her parents, getting a full-mouthed mutter of “no fanks” from Paige. And before the two lovebirds had come downstairs, she would have the table set and the dishwasher loaded, counters sparkling. It was like the girl never stopped moving. During the last such impromptu family breakfast that Paige had been a part of, which turned out to be a daily routine for the house now, she had felt so out of place, munching on her multi-colored crunchberries with her bare hands while the other three had a lively conversation about the local mayoral candidates, some fundraiser, and the current situation in the middle east. Clara knew the gist of what was going on, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough in her knowledge of any of it to really engage in the conversation. Add in that the three of them knew many of the same people, many of Jake and Mae’s friends the parents of Mia’s classmates, and Paige often felt like a fourth wheel being talked over more than an equal contributor to the conversation. The idea of ever seeing Mia as a little sister seemed laughable. They would put up with one another for family dinners once or twice a year until they started families of their own or until Jake and her mom fizzled out. But there wouldn’t be the sisterly bond that her mom went on and on about. Tossing her bags down on the floor in the foyer and kicking off her bright yellow flip flops next to a cubby of neatly stacked sneakers and sandals, Paige called out to the empty house to see if She was alone. “Mom? Jake? Mia? Anybody home?” There was no answer, save for the clicking of nails and high pitched whimpers from the kitchen. Making her way through the house, Paige took in the subtle changes even since she had been here for winter break. It was weird to think that even though this had been where she grew up, other people had been making this their own home in the time that she had been gone this year. The fridge was covered in swim team and bake sale schedules, a straight ‘A’ report card, and an acceptance letter to Princeton. A few photos from her childhood were now mixed in with others of her mom and Jake at the beach, at a concert, on a cruise, and then a few of the tall, smooth dark haired Mia. In one, her red, school-issued swimsuit is stretched across her ample breasts, skimming down along her curves to the high cut outs above her shapely hips. She looked like a supermodel or an extra on bay watch more than a high school senior. As if to contrast this, one of the photos nearest that one is of Paige from middle school the one summer she tried the swim team. In the photo her bright purple and turquoise bathing suit clings loosely to her flat chest, slightly off-centered for being too large, follows her square midsection straight down to her non-existent hips, and sags down below her butt a bit, worn thin and pilled from sitting on the rough pool deck outdoors. Her bright orange goggles are pulled up on the top of her head and her face is pink from sunburn with reddish raccoon eyes from the overly-tight goggles. Her hair is wet and frizzing out around the bands of the goggles, off to the sides and down below her pigtails. The worst part of it is that she was barely 3 years younger in that photo than Mia was in her own. Reasoning that she could probably “spill” something on the photo some time this summer, Paige looked away from the starkly contrasted photos and towards the whining and wagging fur ball across the room. “Hi Lox!” She said, sliding open the crate door and immediately being knocked onto her butt by the small jumping Beagle’s furious kisses. She still couldn’t believe that her mom, after refusing her desperate pleas for a puppy her entire childhood, sucked in so quickly when Mia had made the same request. If he wasn’t so damned cute and friendly Paige might resent the pup. As it stood, he didn’t help with her resentment towards her step-sister-to-be. When she had asked her mom why she caved now with Mia when she had said no so often to Paige, her mom had said that Mia had “shown how responsible she is”. Whatever that means. As if Paige weren’t responsible. Whatever kind of revisionist history that was, Paige didn’t know. She had kept a cactus alive for five years on the bathroom window ledge, thank you very much. Sure, she had forgotten it’s existence for the better part of two of those years, and fine, cacti do best when you basically forget about them, and okay, it had ultimately died when she had dropped it into the sink and then overwatered it, upon remembering it one day, but still! Paige scratched Lox’s ears again and filled a glass with water before heading back to the living room for her backpack. She didn’t feel like lugging the two heavy garbage bags she had shoved her clothing into up the stairs just yet. Maybe if she left them long enough her mom would just do it. She had tossed every article of clothing that she had with her at school into the bags at the last minute, mixing clean and dirty together, not worrying about it since her mom was sure to rewash all of it anyway. She had never really let Paige do the wash since she had flooded the kitchen with soap bubbles and she commented on every break about the way Paige was laundering her clothes at school, pointing out the coffee spills and food stains on blouses and dirty seats of her pants from sitting out by the lake. Paige’s mom had seemed dubious about those stains, pointing out that some of her underwear had large brown splotches as well, but Paige had blushingly sworn up and down that it was from the lake. And it WAS from sitting by the lake. Paige would sit there wiggling in the wet and muddy grass and read and write ABDL stories for hours, the dampness of her pants only adding to the excitement. Would someone think she had had an accident? It would be easily explained away, especially when she showed the bottom of her muddy shoes, but no one ever stopped or asked her, never seemed to give her a second look. Not except for her mom who didn’t seem to accept the excuse. Now that there wasn’t the mud itself to prove her point, having washed her things, she felt like a little kid lying about an accident… or more than one. Not that there wasn’t some amount of thrill to that. It certainly added to the fervor of her writing those winter nights here at home. But as much as she was interested in the subject matter in her stories, she still bristled at the idea that her mom would honestly believe she was having accidents-and of that type-during the day no less. And it hadn’t helped that she had felt it best to have this conversation during one of those family breakfasts during her last visit, holding up a stained pair of her panties and jeans and asking about it in front of Mia and Jake, the three of them inevitably talking over and about her, suggesting stain removers that worked with toddlers Mia had babysat for with similar stains on their onesies and pants… despite Paige’s refrain that it wasn’t that kind of stain. It was with a strange and intoxicating mix of humiliation and arousal that met these memories. Paige didn’t fully understand them, but she did know, from the stories she read online and those she wrote, that she wasn’t the only person out there like this. It was confusing knowing where the line was though, where it became too much. And yet, even now she could feel a heat and dampness between her thighs. Like in one of Paige’s favorite stories where a girl pretended to have night time accidents to get her mother to buy her Goodnites and then to spank her as a means to “train her body” to stop wetting the bed. Paige often imagined herself in this same position, but it was always with some faceless mom figure, not her own actual mother. When she imagined her own mom it seemed wrong. And while it had been exciting at first that her mom thought she had been having accidents, she wasn’t sure she liked the way she started hovering after that, her constant refrains about using the bathroom before they went out growing frustrating. And yet, Paige thought, shimmying out of her leggings in her own room and kicking her now slightly damp underwear, (the memories aside, she still could enjoy the fantasies. Riffling through her backpack to the zippered inner compartment behind her laptop, Paige’s fingers found the soft open plastic of the goodnites bag and eased one of the pull-ups out with a smile. Pulling the goodnight on, she turned to the mirror on the back of her closet and imagined that her mom, or some faceless mom figure, to be more accurate, had checked her panties and found them damp, not from arousal as they were, but from a near miss at the potty. She would be marched upstairs to her room and the woman would pull a goodnite out of, not her backpack, but her underwear drawer, where they would be prominently housed next to her few childish and stained panties. She would be scolded for her accident as her mother-figure would place the pull-up on her bed, then leave to retrieve a towel and hairbrush before beckoning Paige over to her lap as she sat in Paige’s own desk chair. Paige’s protests that it was an accident and only a small one, that she had mostly made it to the potty in time, would be met with chiding about how big girls went potty before it was such an emergency and that this was her third accident this week. Paige would then be summoned forward where the woman would pull her leggings down to her ankles, followed by her damp panties with a “tsk” and a disappointed shake of the head, before guiding her over the towel on her lap and lifting the brush to- “-re you up here?” Paige’s fantasy was brought up short, her hand pressed against a now vaguely damp spot in her goodnight, her whole body wanting to continue while her brain kicked back into control. Shit, her mom was home! She shouldn’t be home for another hour, Paige thought with a grumble as she grabbed her leggings quickly off the floor, pulling them on just in time for the door to her room to open after just a cursory knock. How had she forgotten to lock that!?
  23. Well, this is a different sort of story. I had the idea of combining a babyfur story...with the Golden Age of Piracy. Weird idea, but I've researched a bit, figured out how things worked, and it just...took hold. It's a lot less mature than most of my stories, actually (surprising for me), buuut I maaay include some things that are a lot more AB and regression themed than I normally do (which is normally a lot). Also, there will be a bit earthier stuff, like a brothel and tavern wenches (as was in the times. Don't worry, no sexual themes aside from...motherhood themes.), so consider that the warning. I'm also admittedly not sure where the story's middle and climax are, but I have an idea about the end; I just don't know where it'll go before then. EDIT: About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Okay, here's the first chapter: Chapter One: Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls The ocean in 1595 was a treacherous place, especially when one didn’t know what they were doing, and even more so when it was an area rife with danger already; the broken ships, names long since lost to the pounding waves, howling winds, and sea spray proved that without a shadow of a doubt. Fortunately for Florence Goodluck, the feared - at least, she hoped she was - black-furred fox captain of the seven seas, she and her small crew knew exactly what they were doing...or so they hoped. She wore few fripperies; while she and her crew were regarded as pirates, welcomed at Tortuga by fellow pirates, they weren’t a very wealthy or successful crew, having gotten few prizes over the time they were active. She and her crew wore simple, short, homespun dresses, ragged and torn from years on the sea. “Tack to port!” she called out in a high soprano, as she took the lookout point, seeing her crew of big cats maneuver the Catastrophe (her idea to let the crew, having known her lifelong friends since they all lived on the docks of Dover, England as orphans, know how much she appreciated them, especially since they unanimously voted her captain.) with Emma Everard, the stoic snow leopardess helmscat at her customary spot at the wheel. Not that the fox minded the lookout and rigging jobs; she never ordered her crew to do anything that she wouldn’t do, and she knew that Emma was better at the wheel than she could ever be. “Move port, bring the riggings up!” Grace Wythinghall, the powerful pantheress roared out, as was her right as quartermistress, helping the crew move away from the bow of a half-sunken ship, the stench of rotting wood in the air as a cold, heavy mist began to roll in. Florence sniffed the air, with most everything, even the familiar sea spray scents, fading into the furling mists. She realized that it could be a quest that ended all of their lives. No pirate had ever gotten this treasure, mostly because of silly and stupid superstitions that the older folk believed in. But she truly believed that she and her crew would be the first, and it would propel them to fame, glory…and mostly peace. Maybe because we’re the most desperate, that we have absolutely nothing to lose, she thought to herself. They were all veterans of the seas for a decade, and yet none of them were over the age of twenty-three, having lived hard lives as pirates, spending almost all of that decade in the bosom of their small frigate, rocked to sleep by the waves, avoiding privateers (those damned hypocrites, no better than they were…only with a letter of marque by the kings and queens of countries allowing them to prey on those weaker than them), fellow pirates, and legitimate navy ships that could’ve sunk them and sent them straight to Davy Jones. All Florence wanted was to retire. She was tired of the sea, tired of the dangers, tired of starving, and she wanted to put down roots somewhere on an island where the most she’d see of the ocean was occasional fishing, with more money than she knew how to spend. “Florence, I can’t see anything in this mist!” Agnes Coulthurst cried out, the cougaress’s tail lashing in annoyance, bringing her back to the moment. “Hold steady!” the black fox called. “Are you absolutely sure, Flory?” Denise Parkham called out; the lynx boatswain's voice tinged with terror. This was not a natural mist; the conditions for mist weren’t there; hell, it was far too cold for the normal spring weather of the Caribbean, and frost began to creep on the sails. “Do NOT call me ‘Flory’!” Florence snapped. “Hold steady unless I say!” A cheetah was scratching her claws on the ship deck, whimpering, “We’re going to crash into one of those ships-” “AVIS, WE ARE NOT GOING TO CRASH! TRUST ME!” the black fox shouted. “That goes for everyone! We are going to make it through! Have I ever led you wrong before?! Hold - damn - steady!” “You heard the captain!” Grace roared; the fox had to admit that the vocal cords of the quartermistress was a much louder sound that almost seemed to cut through the mist. “Hold steady until she says!” All eleven animals held their breaths, as if the very act of breathing would cause the water to hear and consume them. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword. Then Millicent Huchenson and Winifred Daundelyon, a serval and caracal as close as twin sisters (even though they weren’t actual sisters like the Rowes) heard a faint roar coming in front of them, their especially keen ears pounding with blood, and both of them screamed in terror, holding each other. Florence heard the faint roar as well, heard the sailmaker and cooper scream, and immediately bellowed, “DROP ANCHORS AND FURL SAILS RIGHT NOW!” Her crew reacted quickly, knowing that their lives depended on it. Whether Lady Luck existed or not, they knew one thing: they were lucky, for the roar was coming from a waterfall that plummeted down into nothingness - the anchors had managed to cling to rocks just in time to save them from going over. “This has to be the goddamned end of the world…” Isabel Hornboldt moaned pitifully, the jaguaress who served as the navigator unsheathing and sheathing her claws. “There’s nothing on my maps that says anything about a goddamned waterfall!” “That means we’re close to The Dying Night!” Florence shouted, her eyes alight with recognition. “Don’t you girls remember what the legend said?” “Other than some voodoo witch that cursed the pirates who killed her husband?” Sybil Rowe asked curiously, the tigress carpenter looking straight at her lioness sister, Cecily's eyes. “And they were never heard from again? And that everyone who tried to find this treasure died?” the gunner finished in a dour tone. “Cecily, Sybil, curses aren’t real!” the fox captain snorted to herself. Curses? Ridiculous. And they were a much better crew than those that had died; hadn’t they proved it by surviving until now? “Anyway, it’s at the bottom of the waterfall.” “Well, unless you plan on jumping off, I’d love to hear ideas, Flory!” Agnes snapped. “Always grumbling, Agy, always grumbling about something!” Florence retorted, inwardly seething about the childish nickname uttered by the cook. “Don’t you know that there are tributaries that lead downward? Or did you forget about the legend entirely?” The cougaress’s face flushed in annoyance, but Avis Ballett was quick to say, “But we can’t see anything in the mist!” Florence sighed, quickly wrapping a rope around her paw and stepping off of her perch, down to her crew from the crow’s nest, using her weight to counterbalance and land safely on her paws. Her crew had seen her do it so many times that they were no longer afraid for her safety…but they didn’t dare try it themselves. They would follow her anywhere…except with that; some things were just a death wish. “That’s why the legend is called ‘The Dying Night,’” the fox explained, mostly to the cheetah musician, but to the rest of the crew as well. “We wait until dawn; that’s night’s death, that’s when the mist will clear up and reveal the tributaries. Then we go down to them, find the ship, get the loot, divide it, and get out as rich women.” “You’re placing an awfully big bet on a mere legend, Flory,” Denise mused, her paw drumming on the side rail. “Enough with that stupid nickname! We know it’s real, Denise, there’s enough evidence to prove it, especially since it's here in front of our eyes.” Florence’s green eyes were desperate. “You’re my crew; I’d go down with and for you any day, and you know that, but we can’t be pirates forever. This could be the one. This could be the treasure that we could retire with and live like queens.” “I’d settle for a family.” All heads turned to face Isabel, who looked sad. “We’re family, Izzy,” Grace gently coaxed. “No, I meant…we stole this ship from the privateers together, and we're as close as we can get without being blood…but I want something…tangible,” the jaguaress said with a sigh. “No insult meant to you girls, but we see each other every day, every time I wake up on this ship. I’ve heard every argument we could ever hear. I want a different voice.” “Get enough money, and you could buy a family,” Florence said with a smirk. “Florence, not everything’s about scoring that big loot.” To the black fox’s shock, it was Emma that said those words, the normally quiet snow leopardess having a faraway look in her eyes. “I’d love a family myself. We all grew up as orphans; I wanted to know my mum for years. She died, you know. Died in childbirth. Dear ‘Dad’ left me on the docks. We all have similar stories, Florence, even you. Haven't you ever wanted someone to hold you, to love you, no matter what?” Florence sighed angrily. “Look, you want a mummy to feed you, pay a damn wetnurse. Those times are done, and you can’t ever go back. What’s done is done. We’re here right now, so let’s focus on our goal right now." She took a deep breath and rubbed the fur on her temple - a tic that she had when she was trying to calm herself down. "Anyway, we’re all tired, so get some sleep until dawn. Millicent, Winifred, take the first watch.” The fox’s crew looked at her…and let out collective sighs, knowing they weren’t going to change her mind; she could be quite stubborn. It was the trait that brought them this far, and the trait they loved and hated. But she was right, in a way: she had never steered them wrong, had always kept them safe. “Yes, Cap’n,” they chorused. They gathered their ragged blankets, shivering as, one by one, they fell asleep in the cold mist, their dreams right in front of them…one way or another. - Okay, quick explanation about the specific jobs of this crew on their frigate (a smaller ship used in the Golden Age of Piracy): Captain - Democratically elected on pirate ships, believe it or not, although they could just as easily have command stripped of them. In most cases, the captain was the brains, the one who got the ship through fair or foul means. The most successful captains could install rules on the ship. Quartermaster (quartermistress, in this case) - Also democratically elected, the quartermasters were the seconds-in-command of the ship, unlike the various legitimate vessels (even though the pirates had first and second mates). They were the crew's answer to the pirate captain, sharing their concerns, and being an intermediatory for the captain to give orders to the crew. If the captain had taken another vessel and wanted to start a fleet, the quartermaster would be the captain of that ship. Navigator - Even though the captain and quartermaster often had knowledge of navigation, a pirate ship might have a dedicated navigator. With a good navigator, the captain would know where merchant ships struck, could navigate islands and shallows, that sort of stuff. Boatswain (bosun) - The supervisor of the various seamanship stuff around the ship, monitored the stores, and ensured sails, anchors, and rigging were in good condition. On larger ships, they'd have people under them. Carpenter - The carpenter was the one who was responsible for fixing leaks around the ship, making various repairs, and refitting captured vessels for the purposes of the pirates. They were also responsible for a lot of the, ah...immediate surgeries (i.e., amputations) in the absence of a surgeon. Cooper - The cooper was responsible for assembling barrels, used to keep wet stores, dry stores, gunpowder, water, rum, etc. from spoiling, making them airtight, fixing buckets, etc. Normally on larger ships, but I figured I could make a slight exception. Sailmaker - Sailmakers were basically the chief engineer on a ship, used to stitch and make sails, which, without them, ships went nowhere. In the absence of a surgeon, sailmakers were also responsible for stitching wounds shut. Gunner - The gunner was responsible for the cannons, how much gunpowder was necessary for to hit the target, who shouted the order to fire. Gunner teams (four to six men) were required to be accurate and speedy, and they were outfitted with a lot of guns. Cook - Yes, even pirate ships had cooks. Normally, they were ones with amputations (not here), but while they stole food stores from the ships they captured, and ate from taverns, yes, cooks were needed to prepare food and rum. Musician - Yes, pirates had musicians like fiddlers and trumpeters. Like in others, they created rhythms for shanties, to aid in manual task, and to entertain, but they also contributed to a cacophony of noise during attacks.
  24. Prologue 19 Years earlier. "Sarah, I know you don't want me to leave but I want a better life for my child, I don't want her to grow up thinking bad about little's." "Liam little's have it better now then when we were kids, I know you still don't like how some are treated but there is not much we can do." "REALLY SARAH? DAD OWNS THE BIGGEST COMPANY THAT MAKES LITTLE DIAPERS, TOYS, CLOTHES, AND FURNITURE. WE ARE RICH WE CAN MAKE CHANGE BUT YOU AND DAD REFUSE TOO!!!!!" "Liam please calm down I don't need the stress we both know you mean well, why do you think I had the idea to go?" "I'm sorry Ella, I am trying not to yell anymore." "Ella, Liam I will make you a deal when dad gives me the company, I will save your share of it. Liam as long as you bring your new son or daughter to see me that's all I ask please?" Liam sighs knowing his sister means the best but is still too young to fully understand. "Ok deal once our child turns 18 we will come back and stay here if all parties want too." "That is fair Liam. Then I guess Liam and Ella its goodbye for now I'll miss you both." "Bye Sarah I'll miss you." "Bye my great sister in-law we will both miss you. bye for now but not forever." Both having said their goodbyes walk through the portal to Earth to start their new life. Present day. Chapter 1. 12 Hours earlier before the trip to see Sarah. "Mom where is my suitcase I need to pack some more clothes before we leave." "Amelia really? You have three so far you don't need anymore, we don't have a lot of room as it is." "Amelia listen to your mother, we can't take that much stuff we have a limit to what we can take with us to see your aunt Sarah. She said she will come pick us up once we get to her Dimension and take us out to eat. Remember Amelia once we get there, we will be a lot bigger, I was 13 feet before I left, and your mom was 12 almost 13 feet too and we were taller than most bigs. Both me and your mom think you will be maybe 12-13 feet, but we don’t know." "I know dad I just can’t believe you have a sister in the other Dimension, why didn't you tell me before?" "Me and your mom wanted to wait tell you were 18 before we took you to see her." "I know I'm a big, but you didn't have to wait to tell me you know." "sweetie we didn't think you would be ready tell you were older, but we are sorry we didn't tell you." "It's ok just please don't keep secrets from me." "We won't keep anymore secrets from you, from now on Amelia does that sound fair." "Totally." Amelia and both of her parent's pack their bags in the car and go grab some breakfast getting ready to leave in a few hours. "Mom can we have pancakes before we go?" "Sure, let me make a few you want anything on them?" "No mom I'm fine with plan." Amelia mom gives her and her dad some pancakes with butter to eat for breakfast, then sits down herself and starts to eat hers. "Mom can we get a few things from town to give to Aunt Sarah as a gift please?" "Sure, once your father and I are ready ok, go meet us in the car we will be out soon." "Ok mom you and dad hurry up." Amelia heads to the car and gets in the backseat to wait for her mom and dad. God, I hope they don't take forever I really want to get aunt Sarah something but what would she like? Hm I'll have to ask dad she is his sister after all. "Liam are you sure this is a good idea? I mean she has never been there, and we only told her about her aunt a month ago." "Ella it's ok I think she is at least old enough to know who my family and your family are. even if your family are bad people." Ella sighs loudly. " I know Liam that's why I hate my family. What they do to little's should be illegal." "Let’s just try and not be around your family too much ok Ella, lets meet them at the mall or somewhere public." "Sounds good dear you ready." "Yes, dear let’s get going to town." All Liam can think about now is how Ella's family will react when they find out she has a kid now. Ella can’t help but think to herself how her parents will react to Amelia, and to the fact we are visiting Sarah more then them. Ella and Liam make their way to the car and hope in and buckle up. "ok Amelia where do you want to go?" "Well um dad what does Aunt Sarah like?" "Well get her something that means a lot to you I'm sure she will love it cause it's from you." "How about I get a photo of us and fame it and give it to her?" "That sounds perfect dear let’s get her that." "Thanks for the help dad." "No problem Minnie." Liam says has he laughs a bit to himself. "DADDDD don't call me that I'm not 10 anymore." "Minnie be nice to your dad." "Not you too mom. I can't win, can I?" "Nope dear me and your dad always win." Ella says as she chuckles As the car takes off dad drives them into town to get a good family photo and get it famed he stops by the photo studio and asks how long the wait time is for one photo and gets told it can be done right away. Liam Ella and Amelia walk in and are sat down right away. "Make sure you smile. Now say cheese." "Cheeseee." all three say at once. After its done Amelia finds the perfect frame for it. "Mom Dad can we get this one? It says it can't break." "Sure, that way no matter what Sarah will always have it." "Ok get in the car Minnie." "Mom pleaseee. At least don't do that in front of Aunt Sarah." Both Liam and Ella laugh knowing she hasn't seen the back of the photo. The amazing family jumps in the car and heads home to finish getting ready for the trip tonight, knowing it will take about an hour to get to the portal and that they will be arriving just when it's just starting to turn night, so they can meet Sarah then head to her house to sleep and hang out in the morning. Amelia thinks to herself on the ride home about meeting her Aunt. I wonder what she is like or how tall she is dad has not told me much about her other then her and dad are rich on the other side of the portal. Guess I'll find out tomorrow morning not sure I'll be able to stay awake tonight. The family gets home and Amelia heads to her room to chill for the rest of the day waiting for 10 pm when they leave to go to the portal. "Ella I'm worried about Amelia she has never been on the other side of the portal, I don't want her to think different of us for leaving it." "Liam calm down please she will be fine no matter what she won’t change just because it has little's, if she is anything like me, they won’t affect her. Hell, they didn't affect your sister too. That reminds me did your sister ever get a little. I know the CEO of the biggest company that sells little stuff should have a little too." "Honestly honey I don't think she ever did get a little she thought they might slow down her work and she wanted to takeover dad's work after I left, and he told her she would be CEO." Liam and Ella spend hour's talking about Sarah the other side and Amelia hoping everything goes well. Amelia sits in her room excited to go to the Portal and see the United States a group of 60 country's that hate little slaves but have laws to protect everyone. As the hours roll by she cant stop thinking about her aunt and where she lives hoping her aunt likes her and the present she got her. 8:45 pm rolls around and Liam and Ella get ready to leave. "Amelia are you coming sweetie we got to leave so we can get there before 10 pm. We need to beat the traffic so we can get there on time." "Coming mom! Don't leave me I really want to go." "Sweetie we are going for you so we won’t leave you." "Ella Amelia you both ready?" "Yes dad." "Yes dear." Amelia and her parents get in the car and start the hour-long drive to the portal to go to the U.S on the other side. "Mom is it ok if I take a nap?" "Yes, go ahead you might need it, I'm not sure what your aunt has planned but it might be a good idea." As Amelia takes a nap her parents talk about what Sarah might have planned when they get to a stop light, they go once it turns green but both of them never see the drunk driver in the semi before he hits them cutting the car in half killing both her parents instantly, then slamming the seat into her face breaking bones waking her up for a split second before her half gets tossed into the pole break the car more and causing her seat belt to fail and toss her from the car back first into a tree. Amelia starts to come to in the back of the ambulance. "Wha....." She passes out and her blood pressure drops low and she goes into shock before the Ambulance works knew what happened. "Give her fluids to increase the amount of fluid in her body QUICK!! We need to keep her alive tell we can get to the hospital. She’s going into hypovolemic shock!! Drive as fast as you can to the one by the portal it has the best tech go 100 MPH if u need to just drive faster!!!" "Quick pass me some saline and some large bore needles we need to keep her alive tell we get to the hospital!" "Quick use the anti-shock pants. We need to keep the blood up near the heart as much as possible." "Mack she’s losing too much blood and I can't tell what is broken and what’s not." "Jimmy breath ok? we need to just keep her stable. GORGE DRIVE FASTER GET A ESCORT IF YOU HAVE TOO!!!" " We got one Mack and we can’t go faster I'm topping the speed. We only got 5 miles tell we get there, I already radioed them and told them to get the ICU team ready and get the best tech." The ambulance pulls up to the hospital and there are over 20 doctors and nurse's waiting to help. they get Amelia out of the ambulance and into the hospital and up to the ICU and start to work on her the best they can. "Dammit do we have any info on her anyone?" "Sorry Dr Howard both her parents were killed on impact and all the info we can find is she has a Aunt in the U.S." "Your shitting me? Crap get me the hospital director and call the lawyer and tell him to meet me in the director's office quick. Keep that girl alive while I'm gone do whatever you can." Dr Howard runs as fast as he can to the director's office hoping they can save this girl. "Jean I need your help Sally is on her way too we need to make a call and now." "Shawn what have I told you about calling me Jean?" "Find out who Amelia Holloway's aunt is quick we don't got much time." "Was she the one that just came in?" "Yes, now hurry!" "Jean Shawn I'm here what did you want?" "Sally get a transfer order ready to move a patient though the portal to U.S." Both Sally and Jean scream what at the same time. "You’re kidding, right?" "No, I'm not now find her aunts number." "I already did once you said her last name, I knew who it was...." Sarah Holloway sat on the top floor of her building look at quarterly reports seeing a 7 increase in sales this quarter. "Miss Holloway, we have a hospital from Earth on the line. What do you want me to do?" "A hospital from Earth? put them through I'll take it in here." "Umm is this Sarah Holloway? "Yes, may I ask why you are calling?" The director sighs hoping this goes well. "Well I'm Director Jean I have my chef Doctor Shawn Howard and I also have our hospital lawyer Sally. We have a problem here and we need your help and it is a matter of life and death." Sarah starts to get really worried knowing what might be coming next. "Who is it? Who is in the hospital?" "It's your niece Amelia. She was in a drunk driving accident and sadly I'm sorry Miss Holloway. But she’s the only one out of both her parents and her." Sarah can help but break down crying knowing her only family may die. "Miss Holloway?" "It's fine tell me what needs to be done money is not a option ok?!?!?!" "Miss Holloway, we need you to sign some papers or give us a verbal ok while its recorded so we can send your niece to the U.S. to get help. Her only hope is the Nantes now." "DO IT NOW I DON'T CARE WHAT IS NEEDED OR HOW MUCH JUST DO IT!!" "Yes Miss Holloway goodbye for now." "You heard her Shawn get her to the portal now!" Shawn runs back to the ICU and gets ready for chaos. "EVERYONE LISTEN UP! Get her and everything we need we are running to the portal to get her to the hospital in U.S!" "Umm jean." "Yes, Sally I know I'm calling the other hospital now to give them the heads up and to get a team ready and normal Nantes." "I wish Amelia and miss Holloway the best of luck they will need it." "Me too Sally Me too." Howard and his team wait at the portal door for them to be given the go to push he through it. At last they are given the green light and they push her through to the other side hoping she may live but knowing she has at best a 10% chance to live. Everyone hopes she can come back and bury her parents soon. "Jessica tell the pilot up time to start the helicopter up now I'm going to the hospital by the portal and tell him there are no speed limits today." Jessica has never seen her boss like this and is scared but does what she says. "Yes boss" Jessica gives the pilot the heads up as Sarah leaves to head up to. "Joe top speed to the hospital now I don't care about any rules I'll fix it my niece might die so MOVIE IT." Joe knows he needs to go stop speed fearing the worse for Sarah's niece. "Yes, boss right away." Both Joe and Sarah head to the Hospital as Amelia gets taken inside to the waiting team of doctors trying to save her life.
  25. Now for something entirely different. This is another babyfur story of mine (one that actually got inspired by @Panther Cub's stories, actually; if you are a fan of babyfur stories, check them out), but it's got very heavy themes. I promise to warn you when they come up. EDIT: About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Now, on with the show: Chapter One: Guilt and Shame - Constantin Tremblay woke up with a large yawn, the American ermine stretching his limbs, his tail and whiskers twitching with anticipation for the first week of August, the first week of his sophomore year of high school. Then he smelled something funny. He took off his blanket and gasped. No. No, it can’t be! He had unmistakably wet - no, soaked was more like it - the bed. His thoughts were frantic. It’s just got to be a bug. A summer bug. Can’t be FIID. It can’t be that, no, summer bug, it’s just a damn bug. Fallout Incontinent/Infancy Disease, the hidden scourge of the weapon known as Project A, the weapon that turned the world’s then-humans into humanoid animals way, waaay back in the time of, like, the dinosaurs (technically in 1963, during the Kennedy administration, but still) affected about a tenth of all middle and high schoolers. It was a horrible disease, turning those kids into what basically amounted to teen toddlers. No, he was not going to have that. He was already hiding being trans from his parents; he couldn’t have that as well. Already cost me friendships. Can’t have it cost my family too. With those thoughts, Constantin gathered his night clothes and sheets, quickly putting them in the washing machine with a lot of bleach, before turning the bleach toward his bed. Then the shower. The thing he hated the most, his dysphoria clearly showing there. His breasts, unmistakably showing his outward sex, hiding the powerful man he knew he was. He hated them, hated them. The ermine made sure to take a longer time in the shower than normal, washing every single part of his awful body to get the smell off of him. He put on his clothes: baggy black jeans, a loosely-fitting black T-shirt, and combat boots. Thank whatever gods existed - not that Constantin believed in a god; if there were any, they wouldn’t have made him like this - that there wasn’t a school uniform for anything other than basketball; it would’ve sucked if he was forced to wear a skirt or dress. Then he did the gel in his short hairfur, spiking it up. Then his glasses. He hated that he needed glasses; it made him look nerdy. Yeah, he got decent grades, but it was his basketball career that he cared about. His parents were fine with it because they were former jocks (Dad played soccer; Mom was a former cheerleader.), but… He shook his head furiously. He was going to have a good day at school, damn what the morning wanted him to think. Constantin let out another yawn, making a small breakfast for himself (his parents were off on their high-paying five-to-five jobs, so he was fairly self-sufficient.): just regular cereal and orange juice (breakfast of champions!) before he got his stuff packed and ready for school. He noted the silver coin on the countertop with Mom’s signature (payment for lunch and a thinly-veiled demand for “Marie-Claire” to join cheerleading) telling him to take the coin (which he did), and let out a sigh, exiting into the morning light. The ermine was early for the school trolleybus (it was rare for animals to have a car, since the gas-guzzlers had stopped being produced after the Fallout, and electric cars were only used by the rich...like his dad and mom), getting on with a nod at the driver, an elderly gorilla who nodded back at him before the trolleybus sped off. Constantin sat at the back, relaxing and almost nodding off with rock-n-roll music, before a familiar voice woke him up. “Hey, you’re taking my spot.” He opened his black eyes to see an ocelot, her amber eyes appraising him cautiously. He knew her. Allyson. Allyson Blood, his former bestie before…stuff happened. Mainly because Constantin never came out as trans to her (to anyone, really), and felt uncomfortable around girls nowadays (he was definitely attracted to girls, which made things…complicated.)…but partially because Allyson had gotten FIID, along with…his other two former friends. She was wearing a pink onesie with cartoon cats that did nothing to hide the fact that she was wearing a very thick diaper, and had a pink pacifier clipped to the neck area of her onesie. Her spotted tail flicked nervously, as she clutched a stuffed saber-toothed tiger in her paws. “Then take it from me if you can,” Constantin said in a bored tone. “It’s my spot. I’ve had it all of last year, Marie.” He looked at her, her eyes watering with tears, and a guilty feeling gnawed at his heart. “I…fine, take it,” the ermine muttered, shifting over so Allyson could get her body into the seat. “Thank you, Marie,” the ocelot said gratefully, popping in her pacifier and sucking nervously. “Whatever, I didn’t know it was your spot,” he muttered, hating his high-pitched tilting female voice. “Sho…I shee you’re doin’ bashketbaw?” The pacifier muffled her words, almost cutely. Not cutely. She’s just a damned overgrown baby now. Your friendship with her is over, let alone anything more. And yet… “Yeah, I figure that since I’m on the girl’s team…yeah.” “I’vf sheen your gamesh. You’re reawy good.” “Eh, I’m decent.” A lie. He had already gotten scholarship offers - women’s, of course, but one or two men’s teams as well - from high-profile colleges all across the United States, despite starting this year as a sophomore. “Don’t wie. I’m onwy FIID, not shtupith.” He looked at Allyson, seeing her glaring at him. Still intimidating, even though she was dressed as a baby (especially since she was bigger than he was). “I said I was decent. What’s there to lie about?” “Whatever.” The ride continued in stony silence, as more and more students - and teachers - got on the trolleybus. Constantin noted with dread that the ride had picked up his two other former close friends: Haylee Kilgallen the black-backed jackal and Krysten Peppers the long-eared owl, both of them sitting on the opposite side of him, both clad in similar attire to Allyson (only with a stuffed unicorn for Haylee and a stuffed roc for Krysten). “Hi, Marie!” Krysten said excitedly. “It’s been a while…” “Krys, she made her choice,” Haylee said coldly, her paw on Krysten’s wing feathers, as Constantin felt another gut punch of guilt. It’s not like they’d be your friends anyway. You’re not a girl, never were one. There’s too many issues, too many problems, and they’d stop being your friends if they knew the truth. So why did he feel so guilty and ashamed? “Hey, MC!” a voice cut through. The ermine looked up (way up; the speaker was a giraffe) to see his fellow basketball teammate (and fellow superstar), Xenia Chaconas. Xenia had a smirk on her face, as she said in mock sympathy, “I didn’t know you were FIID, MC. You wearing a diaper, too?” “I’m not,” Constantin huffed. “I’m just sitting with them, that’s all.” “You don’t have to sit with them, you know,” the giraffe continued. “You could sit with the big girls and talk with us.” “Yeah, but I just wanted to listen to my music, not talk,” Constantin growled. “Then sit somewhere else!” Haylee snapped at him. “We don’t want you here.” The words cut straight to the ermine’s heart. Haylee was someone who would fight off the legions of hell for someone if they were her friend. To hear that from her… “C’mon, Lee, you don’t mean that…” Krysten twittered nervously. “I do, Krys. She’s not welcome to sit with us anymore.” “Aw…you hear that? It’s almost like they’re talking!” Xenia cooed mockingly, as Constantin reluctantly got up and walked with the giraffe, who sneered, “I’ll come by the nursery to see you three later.” “Hey, MC!” “Yo, MC, what up?” “Howzit goin’, MC?” The words of Constantin’s fellow basketball teammates felt hollow to him; using the initials of his deadname as a nickname was almost too much to bear, and yet…he knew they meant no malice with it; it was all they really knew. They don’t know you. Your old friends did. And they don’t ever want to see you again. The guilt and shame grew in his heart, so much so that he almost wanted to cry. But he couldn’t. Not in front of his teammates. He felt a large arm snake around his shoulders, the hoof grabbing on to him, as he turned to see…Dragan. Dragan Lazarov. The superstar of the soccer team…and his wannabe boyfriend. The impala planted a kiss on the ermine’s cheek, to his inner disgust. “Hey, MC,” the soccer player rumbled. “You doing okay? Xenia’s not giving you too much grief, is she?” “She’s fine,” Constantin said, wanting Dragan to get the hell away from him, he wasn’t interested in boys, he was never interested in boys. “You know, I was thinking about a date, you know?” “Dragan…” “A date it is, then! How about we see that R-rated movie, huh?” Constantin squirmed under Dragan’s gaze. “I’m a little busy…” “Too busy for me? Blasphemy.” A smirk. The ermine hated that smirk. “C’mon, your dad, my dad, we know each other. It only makes sense.” He looked at the impala. Just because their dads played soccer on the same professional team didn’t mean he was interested in Dragan. Not. One. Bit. “I’ve got a lot of other things to do,” Constantin said, a hint of finality in his tone. “It’s a date then! You know where I’ll be.” The school - Frederick Frost High, the biggest public school in Chicago’s suburbs - came into view, and Constantin could not wait to get off, which he did…but out of the corner of his eye, he saw his three former friends get off as well, along with a fair few other obvious FIIDers, saw the two feline caregivers, what were their names, oh, right, Colleen and Carolina Cross, give assistance, and something drew him over to them, as he hid behind the school tree (a blooming oak tree, one of the few trees left after the Fallout), watching Allyson start to cry as her diaper was checked. “Aww, it’s okay, Ally, you’ll get potty training down eventually,” Colleen the caracal cooed, wiping the ocelot’s tear-and-snot-covered face with a wet-wipe in her paw. “Uh oh, looks like we have a couple of other stinkypants on our paws!” Carolina the serval announced as she checked Krysten and Haylee, who both looked embarrassed and on the verge of tears. I…they were my closest friends. What have I done? What the hell have I done? Was this really worth it? Don’t be a pansy. Of course it was! You and them…it wouldn’t have mixed. You’re on the girl’s basketball team. You’re a top basketball recruit in the nation. They’re going back into their second toddlerhood. And you didn’t have a choice. No, you ALWAYS had a choice! YOU chose to leave them when they needed you the most! YOU chose to hide everything about yourself! YOU chose to live a damned lie every day instead of being honest! You deserve EVERY bad thing that comes your way! You don’t deserve true friends! The feelings of guilt and shame tore him up, and he slumped down the tree, starting to silently cry. - Well, here's hoping for the best for Constantin~ Feel free to review, tell me what I did right, what I can improve on, or even something you liked; that helps me, as an aspiring authoress, more than just blind praise.
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