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This is a story that I hope will be relatable to some of the older members of the board, but not being older myself, I may have greatly missed the mark here. Please feel free to tell me how wrong I am in my assumptions about what it feels like to be an older person in this community. Too Old By: RambleLamb She rolled over in bed and sat up slowly as she draped her legs over the edge of the bed, the plastic sheet over the mattress crinkling loudly performing a duet with the rustling of her diaper as she rubbed her left hand with her right and then the right with her left, cursing her Arthritis mentally as she reached over to the bedside table and retrieved her glasses from their case and put them on. She'd been dreading this day for some time, much the same way she had dreaded this day the year prior and the year before that in the slow march toward her own inevitable demise. She was sixty today, and that was not okay with her. Looking down at her wrinkled hands, and the pale, wrinkled legs protruding from beneath her nightgown she sighed. Her right hand pulled the hem of her nightgown up to display the bulky overnight diaper beneath, the outer surface sharing the yellowy brown of a healing bruise from use in the night. She ran a hand over the surface and sighed heavily, reminiscing about a time when performing that simple action would have sent a pleasant tingle up her spine and been the catalyst to a far more intimate release, but now she was terminally dry in her lady parts, the ravages of time eroding her sex drive and making achieving orgasm an all day affair that she most certainly never had nor made time questing for. Rising from the bed, her knees and ankles popping at the introduction of her weight onto them, she straightened up a little, the muscles and joints in her back and hips straining and groaning as they struggled to get up and running. She shuffled slowly to the bathroom, leaning against the countertop as she worked to release the tapes of her diaper, cursing her Arthritis again as she winced and fumbled with the small swatches of tape on either side of the front of the sodden garment. She managed, like she always did, and the diaper plummeted to the floor with a heavy slapping sound as it hit the linoleum. She'd always enjoyed that sound, recalling the pride she'd felt in her younger years at hearing how heavy her diaper had become by the sharpness of the plop as it bounced off the porcelain and glass surfaces of the bathroom walls and fixtures. Slipping her nightgown off over her head, she turned and looked in the mirror. She saw the thinning silver hair on her head, the age spots and wrinkles that were now a part of her skin, the shriveled blobs that her breasts had become. She saw these things with her eyes, but her mind wasn't able to comprehend them. In her mind she was still that younger woman that would doll herself up in cute little baby outfits and crawl around without a care in the world, the one that would achieve sexual gratification from having her caregiver cradle her in their arms and rub the front of her diaper while she nursed a bottle or pacifier, her cute little squeals and grunts adding to the scene and to her role as the naughty baby. She pushed those memories from her mind, coming back to her current role of an older woman, twice widowed and alone, her play clothes and paraphernalia in a box somewhere in the attic, hidden away from the world never to return, a description she glumly assigned to her libido as she moved to the shower chair she'd had to have installed and set about starting her day. When she was in her twenties she'd been a free spirit, promiscuousness and fluid with her sexuality, not caring what parts her partner came equipped with, just that they were good to her and treated her the way she wanted to be treated. She'd had Daddy's and Mommy's, big brothers and big sisters, babysitters of all sorts, and had even devoted time to being a caregiver herself. Her first foray into the lifestyle had been with a man. She was still subscribing to the antiquated notion that she was supposed to only be with men at this point in her young adult life, that that was the only acceptable pairing because her parents had spoken quite negatively at length about the disgustingness of homosexuality and she certainly wasn't going to disappoint them by exploring that life, though she did quite enjoy the sight of women in diapers, she convinced herself that it was just her imagining herself as them and not being attracted to them. Bruce was her first Daddy, and he had been very much the wrong fit for her. They'd chatted for a while and agreed to meet and he'd forced himself on her and hit her a number of times when she didn't agree to do what he wanted her to. She'd left that relationship very quickly, fleeing in the night while he was out at work and going back home to nurse not only her physical wounds, but her emotional ones as well. She'd taken time away from the lifestyle after Bruce, skittish that he was the rule and not the exception, but the lifestyle was ingrained in her and she couldn't stay away for long, and unexpectedly found herself talking with a girl slightly older than herself at that time, finding that the girl fulfilled her emotionally far better than Bruce had. When they met she'd achieved her first orgasm in her life as Jane, the girl, licked her most intimate area and played with her breasts. Convinced she was gay, she fell in love with Jane quite quickly, attributing her sexual awakening as a sign that Jane was the person she was meant to be with for the rest of her life, but that was just her being naive, and when she'd come home to find Jane in bed with one of their friends she'd felt so hurt and betrayed and was told that she was being ridiculous, that her feelings weren't fair to who Jane was and she'd left with her head spinning and filled with dark thoughts that closed in on her and pushed her to try and take her own life. Over the years she learned about the myriad of sexual identifiers, gay and straight were the obvious ones, but she learned about bisexuality, polyamory, and asexuality and the more she learned the more she saw the mistakes she'd made in her past and grew emotionally and saw that her relationships were more healthy because she was better able to articulate her own wants and needs and understand better those of her partners. By the time she was involved with the man that would be her first marriage, she was feeling like she'd advanced emotionally by leaps and bounds. She and Charles were married in a small park near their apartment, her parents and a few friends in attendance of the brief ceremony. She wore a simple dress, nothing fancy, but it made her feel beautiful and the way he looked at her when they exchanged their vows made her feel like she was the only person in the world as far as he was concerned. They'd gone to the aquarium for their honeymoon, neither having the money to go on a trip, but both being content with Daddy and his little girl walking hand and hand in the aquarium, the dress she'd worn for the wedding being replaced with her shortalls and a cutely patterned diaper beneath. Charles taught her that she could be what she wanted whenever she wanted, allowing her to explore her desires out in the world while also being respectful to those around them that weren't a part of their game. She'd assumed prior to his education of her that playing baby in public would be like things she'd read in the stories on the internet, caricatures of reality with grown adults waddling around in full diapers on complete display as if nothing was wrong with that. With his help, she discovered that she could wear a diaper and cute clothes and no one would know, she could be in public as baby with her Daddy and feel safe and happy and the worst that would happen would be that a few people would give her odd looks. She was with Charles for three years before he was killed by a drunk driver while coming home from work one night. Her world had fallen apart after that, understandably so, and she'd tried and failed once again to take her own life, being institutionalized by her parents for her own safety. In the hospital she'd learned to handle her emotions, worked to come up with solutions to her problems that were less drastic and permanent than suicide or self harm in general, and left the hospital with a more hopeful outlook on her life after it had been restarted with Charles' death. Her second marriage came a year later, a wife this time, and Mary had taught her that she wanted to be forced into things. She'd been afraid at first, memories of Bruce and his abusive treatment of her filling her with doubt and trepidation, which she discussed with Mary and found that they quite easily worked together to find a comfortable way for both of them to get what they wanted and ease into the things she was concerned about, finding that her fears were unnecessary because Mary was not Bruce, and she could force her out of her adulthood and into her babyhood without hurting her or making her feel like she was less than a person outside of the confines of a scene. Her parents had disowned her when she'd told them that she was marrying a woman, and that had greatly upset and disappointed her, but she'd weathered that sadness and stood with her wife to be on the day and felt nothing but love and contentment, her feelings toward her parents shifting to pity for their narrow mindedness instead of turning them on herself and feeling like she was somehow wrong for going against their idea of what she should be. Over her years with Mary she explored other things outside of just baby play, trying pet play with her, occasionally trading her diapers and baby clothes, or clothes in general, for a litter box and a plug with a tail attached to it. She'd spent many nights cuddled next to Mary on the bed or the couch with her head on her lover's lap having her hair stroked as she closed her eyes and purred softly, blushing when she'd crawl off the couch and to her litter box to squat and pee while she and Mary looked at each other, this usually led to Mary taking her to bed and pleasuring her in a variety of ways, forcing her to please Mary in ways that she commanded and ending with the two asleep in each other's arms spent and happy. When Mary got breast cancer they'd discussed her options with the doctors, but found that there really weren't any given the aggressiveness of the cancer. A few months later, in her own bed with her wife holding her hand, Mary passed peacefully after a carefully crafted cocktail of pills was ingested, washed down with milk to keep her from throwing them up. Before she'd called the paramedics, she'd laid there with Mary and cried, wanting to join her wife on the next leg of her journey, but knowing that Mary wouldn't approve, and throughout their time together she'd never disobeyed or disappointed her wife, her Mommy, or her Master and wouldn't sully her final moments with her by going against her wishes. The loss of Mary had forced her to examine herself as a person, to look within and find that part of her that could be comfortable with either being alone or with only enjoying companionship in platonic ways or in the form of one night stands. She was in her forties now, dangerously close to being half a century old, but she still felt young and still wanted to play with other people but she found that the world had gone and gotten faster and less concerned with meaningful relationships in her time contented and away from the scene. She'd spent many nights reading people's posts online looking for playmates and partners, noting how few of them wanted anyone beyond their twenties with resentment and feelings of inadequacy. She often felt like the chaperon at a high school dance, the designated adult in charge of quelling lusty thoughts of fun and frivolity with here mere existence. She indulged in her fantasies alone save for the random encounter with someone that had a fetish for older women in diapers. She wasn't allowed to be a baby in those times, that was deemed unacceptable by those people, they just wanted her to wear the diapers and pleasure them or herself for their enjoyment and she found herself unfulfilled, feeling like she'd regressed socially and emotionally to a point in her life where she was repressed and compromising her own wants and needs just so she wasn't alone with her thoughts at night when the memories of her setbacks and losses decided to plague her. As the years went by she found herself becoming less and less able to relate to the people she was talking to online, having to look up terms they used just to be able to respond but feeling less than confident in her ability to successfully carry on conversations or relate awash in a sea of people that were half her age or more, and she eventually gave up trying and stuck to playing alone entirely. She briefly entertained the idea of trying to meet vanilla people her own age, but reading the profiles on the various dating sites geared toward older people made her feel like she was too wild for anyone she looked at, and she abandoned that endeavor as well. Out of the shower and freshly diapered, a simple outfit of stretchy waisted pants and a floral blouse to cover her, she sat down at her desk and worked on her application to the assisted living facility she'd seen on her trips to the market. She'd been reluctant to resign herself to the fate of being stuffed into a waiting room for death, but then she'd thought about the fact that with nurses and doctors around to take care of her she could simply focus her energies on being a fun old lady, making friends and filling her remaining time with something other than failed human interaction and bitterness at the lives not fulfilled that she'd had to let go of because of forces outside of her control. She knew she wouldn't be able to play baby anymore, that would be forcing her kink onto others, but she felt like at the very least she wouldn't be the only one in diapers and she could pretend that she was somewhere else in her mind. Over the weeks she hired college kids to come and take her boxes from the attic and pack up her belongings so she could move. One of the boys had brought his girlfriend along one of the days and she'd spent the whole day talking to her, having tea and looking at photo albums, and for that day she didn't feel alone. The girl had offered to help her when her diaper had unfortunately leaked after a great amount of laughter listening to a story about a Halloween party where the girl had ended up drunkenly trick or treating with her friends, not realizing in her inebriated state that she'd walked home and stood in front of her parents with a pillowcase half full of candy exclaiming "Trick or treat" like she was a little girl again. She'd excused herself, flushing hotly with embarrassment when the girl explained that she was a nursing student and helped take care of her grandmother, dashing the notion that she was connecting with the girl on a peer level and reminding her once again that she was just an old woman and rather than friendship she was garnering pity from the girl. The girl ignored the declination and hooked arms with her, helping her to the bathroom and finding some dry clothes for her to change into before taking the initiative to remove her pants for her and her diaper, allowing her to stabilize herself on the girl's shoulders as she gently wiped her clean and put a new diaper on her quickly and efficiently, conducting herself in a clinical and professional manner before helping her into the dry pants. The girl had washed her wet pants for her and offered words of compassion as they sat back down. The girl had told her that her grandmother was incontinent as well, and up until she became so senile she couldn't really comprehend what was happening, she'd been embarrassed by having to be cared for like a baby, but the girl explained that she always felt that life was cyclical, we start off unable to feed and dress ourselves and need to have our every need met by someone else and that's how we finish our lives and it was kind of beautiful to her in its simplicity. She'd told the girl that she didn't mind, over sharing that she enjoyed the security and comfort that her diapers brought to her, garnering a raised eyebrow and a slight smile and blush from the girl before she told her that she was proud of her for being so brave and accepting of her age and infirmities. The girl had exchanged contact information with her when the boys were done for the day and they'd hugged and she felt like she genuinely had made a connection with the girl after all and went to bed that night feeling truly happy for the first time in a long while. After finally moving into the assisted living facility, she contacted the girl on a whim and began an online pen pal relationship with her which quickly blossomed into the girl coming once a week to visit her and spend time with her. The once a week evolved into several times a week and the girl began to open up to her about her personal life, talking to her about her failing relationship with her boyfriend and the pressures of school and the prospect of moving out of her parents house and the worries she had about her ability to survive on her own in the big scary world. All of this culminated in the girl expressing her desire to go back to being a little girl again, safe in the knowledge that she was loved and taken care of and only had to worry about cleaning her room and eating her vegetables. She'd put her hand on the girl's knee and smiled at her warmly, telling her that she didn't have to feel like she always needed to be an adult, that she could explore the feelings and desires of returning to a younger and simpler time in her life while also juggling her adult responsibilities. The girl had relaxed noticeably after that and the conversation turned to other things but the subject had tentatively come up the following week with the girl explaining that she'd stopped on the way home at a playground and sat on the swings for a while, and how it had been surprisingly very fun just to feel young and carefree for that short amount of time. Over time the girl had inched further and further into exploring the feelings she was having, showing up one day with her hair in pigtails and a cute little sundress on, standing before the older woman with arms outstretched as she twirled in place to show off her outfit like a proud little girl that had dressed herself for the first time. Throwing caution to the wind, she'd patted her lap to beckon the girl to her, and swelled with happiness when she'd carefully gotten up onto the chair with her, her weight mostly supported by the plush arm of the chair rather than the calcium deficient bones of the aged woman. The girl smelled like bubblegum or something else youthful and sweet, and she smiled and rested her head on the older woman's shoulder as she was hugged and had her back rubbed softly. The girl had quietly confessed, mostly into the space between the two as she had her face pointed down with her head on the older woman's shoulder, that her grandmother had passed a few months earlier and that she felt the same bond between herself and the older woman she was currently with that she did with her grandmother, but not in a blood relation way. The conversation had stopped there, the girl blushing hotly and excusing herself, making an excuse for why she had to suddenly depart, leaving the older woman to write a very long and personal email to her young friend. Dearest Samantha, You left today very abruptly and I'm worried about why that is. I want you to know that if you're feeling something about our friendship that concerns you that you can talk to me about it. I promise you that there is nothing you could say to me that would make me cherish our friendship any less. As I've told you before, I was married twice before, once to a man and once to a woman, and both of them taught me a lot about who I was and what I could be, they helped me to see that what I choose to be and do in my life is no one's business but my own and that of my partner and I'd very much like to be able to help you in that same way if you're struggling with trying to understand yourself. When you were here today you looked very cute in your sundress and pigtails, you retained your wonderful personality while also allowing yourself to let go of the misconception that you need to dress and act your age, you seemed very happy, like you'd stumbled upon a profound personal secret that gave you a deep satisfaction and fulfillment for a need that you may not have been entirely aware was so strong within you. If I'm not being too forward, I think you're discovering that you're little, which is to say that you're someone that finds enjoyment in indulging in simpler or cuter things and behaviors, like stopping at a playground and swinging on the swingset or wearing your hair in pigtails. I believe that if you explore these desires you'll find that there's a whole world out there that will provide you with pleasures that satisfy them and give you something that keeps you balanced in the times where you're required to be a responsible adult. I hope that you read this and continue to explore these feelings I believe you're having and if you decide to come for another visit I hope that you'll feel comfortable asking questions that may make your tummy feel like it's doing summersaults. If you don't decide to come back I understand, I will miss you greatly, but I also don't want you to feel like you need to force yourself to be uncomfortable for my benefit. You're a very bright young woman and I know that you'll have a successful career and a very happy life and I will always cherish meeting you and every second we've spent together. Thank you for being a bright spot in my life when I needed it the most. Yours always, Sylvia P.S. If I'm at all correct in any of my assumptions, I advise you to search "Ageplay" and see if anything in those results speaks to you. Several days went by without a response from Samantha, and life went on for Sylvia, it wasn't as exciting or interesting as it would have been had the younger girl come to visit, but Sylvia knew that the girl needed time to process everything and that maybe she wouldn't come back, that she'd been scared off by the older woman and her strange email and would tell the story to her girlfriends and they'd all laugh at the silly old woman and her bizarre advice and predilections. A full week after Samantha had rushed out and Sylvia had sent her email the younger woman showed up for a visit. Sylvia smiled when she saw the girl wearing a pink corduroy pair of overalls, her hair again in pigtails, and her fashionable sandals replaced with pink velcro secured shoes. The girl looked like a large toddler as she stood in the entryway of the room and Sylvia took a gamble and patted her lap again to beckon the girl to her. Samantha had nervously shuffled closer after closing the door to the room, her cheeks pinkening as she moved closer, once again taking a place on the older woman's lap and once again resting her head on her shoulder as the older woman hugged her and gently rocked them both in the chair. "Did you look at what I suggested?" Sylvia asked, knowing that the girl being there dressed as she was meant she absolutely had. Samantha nodded but didn't say anything. Sylvia smiled. "Good girl." she praised, daring to kiss the top of the girl's head as she rubbed her back in small circles. "Did you learn anything?" she asked. Again, Samantha nodded but said nothing. Sylvia pulled the girl away from her and gently lifted her chin with two of her fingers. "Did a kitty get your tongue on the way over here?" she asked, her smile warm and her tone soft and sweet. Samantha smiled and let out a small giggle as she shook her head. "No-" she paused and her face flushed again before she continued. "Nana." she added, her eyes beginning to water. Sylvia's heart melted and she hugged the girl to her again, shushing her as she began to rock them both again. "Hush now, sweet girl, Nana's here." she cooed softly. As Samantha began to cry tears of happiness her thumb slipped into her mouth, and Sylvia felt her heart fill with love and a sense of completeness she thought she'd never feel again as she realized she wasn't too old to be in this kind of relationship, she just needed to adapt her role to find something that fit her best and that role was one of a loving Nana to an adorable adult little girl.

The Challenge By: RambleLamb Selene had made quite the name for herself on the internet in a short time. She'd started a Youtube channel dedicated to doing challenges suggested by her viewers. In the few months she'd been live she'd completed over a hundred challenges, she'd shaved off her hair and eyebrows, gotten a tattoo on her butt of the outline of a hand that read "In Case of Bad Behavior, Smash Hand Down Here" beneath it, which had taken a lot of time and had meant a lot of pain to get the white of the tattoo to show up on her dark skin, she'd streaked through the busiest park nearest her, and she prided herself on never once turning down a challenge. The rules she'd established in the beginning had kept her undefeated streak protected, she was allowed to decline challenges that could seriously harm herself or others, were blatantly illegal, not that streaking through a public park was legal, but no one got hurt and she ended up with a few hours of community service once she'd explained to the judge the circumstances of her public display. Her channel had hundreds of thousands of subscribers and her lowest viewed video still topped out at over a million and a half views. She'd been featured on various blogs and was praised for her bravery with only a handful of haters chastising her for debasing herself for the entertainment of others. Recently, her channel had found its way onto the radar of the myriad fetish communities online, she'd been challenged to attend a Furry convention in a very well made suit of an oddly attractive lady leopard, challenged to go to a professional rope bondage session, have a leather clad domme lady spank her while she was locked in a pillory. The kinkier things she did, the more subscribers she got, sure, some of her more uptight followers threw shade at her for devolving into a sex channel, but she argued that she was empowering herself by taking part in all of these things, owning her sexuality and not dropping her opera glasses into her fancy soup because of nonconformist sexual activities happening on the internet. The newest challenge she'd received was "Wear and use diapers 24/7 for a week" and the suggester, "Daddy_Hank_Hill" had sent her several cases of absolutely adorable adult diapers, they had pastel elephants on them and the note in the box indicated that the amount should be more than sufficient for a week's worth of full time use and any remaining could be sold online for a tidy profit she could keep for herself. Also written on the note was a list of rules for the challenge and several bonus objectives should she feel like undertaking them. The overall rules were simple, replace her underwear entirely with diapers for a full seven days including sleep time, the diapers were to be used for all bathroom functions during the challenge period, the offer was made that she could use the honor system and just say she was using them or she could make a single video showing her wetting and a single video showing her messing to prove her adherence to the rules. The bonus objectives were to make a video having someone of her choosing changing her diaper, a video of her playing with baby toys with her diaper visible, and a video of her eating babyfood with a bib on and her diaper visible. Selene felt the familiar pleasurable tingle run up her spine as she looked at the terms of the challenge, knowing that agreeing to it would be completely embarrassing, but would definitely make for some interesting content for her channel. She'd already decided in her own mind that the bonus objectives were totally going to be done, but she had to convince someone to change her, though she was certain she could wrangle one of her friends to do it if she offered them something for their trouble. A few days later she'd packed up her underwear and replaced the empty drawers with the diapers. She'd gone ahead and made a trip to the store to get wipes, powder, babyfood, a bib, a few cute little baby toys, and a pack of pacifiers, the challenge didn't ask for the pacifiers, but she imagined that no one would mind if she used them and she thought it would add to the cuteness of the whole thing if she were sucking on one in her update videos throughout the week. With the new week starting the following day she got into bed resolute in her commitment to completing this new challenge. *********************************************************************** "What is going on, everyone, it's your girl Selene here with another weeklong challenge!" she greeted her audience with her usual warmth and excitement, showing her teeth when she smiled and conducting herself like she was actually addressing a room full of people rather than talking to a camera. She held up one of the diapers and pointed at it. "This is a diaper." she said simply. "Babies wear them, adults that have trouble with their "functions" wear them, and I've been challenged to wear them for a week." she explained. "This challenge comes from the amazingly named 'Daddy_Hank_Hill'," she dropped her voice to impersonate the animated character speaking, "I tell you hwhat, diapers are great and you can believe me because I sell propane and propane accessories." she said before giggling at her own joke like a complete nerd. "The rules are simple, I am not allowed to wear underwear at all for a week, and the toilet is off limits, so yeah, I probably should have bought like a diaper pail or something, but we'll just wing it for a week." she explained. "Umm, in addition to the base challenge, Daddy_Hank_Hill has offered bonus challenges, which as you all know I am a sucker for bonus challenges, in the form of uploading a video of me getting changed by someone I deem capable of cleaning my perfect little butt, a video of me playing with baby toys while my diaper is visible and one of me wearing a bib and eating babyfood again, with my diaper visible." she explained. "As proof of my actually doing this challenge and not just faking it for views, I will be uploading a video of me using a diaper once for number one and once for number two, but we're gonna do it super classy like, not gross, well, not any grosser than it has to be." she added. Her editing had cut from her sitting in front of her camera to her standing in front of it, the pastel elephants on the front of her diaper peeking out beneath the bottom of her shirt which she lifted up slightly before turning around to show off the back. "As you can see, I am now ready to begin the challenge!" she declared as she walked back to her chair, her diaper rustling lightly as she walked, and sat down. "First off, can I just say that these things are mad comfy, y'all!" she said with a wide and genuine smile. "It feels like I'm sitting on a cushion and there's no part of that I don't like, also, I smell like baby powder and that's just delightful." she added with a light giggle. In contrast to her rich, ebony skin, the white of the diaper really popped, making it stand out above all else. She wiggled a little on her chair and wondered why this simple little garment was bringing her so much joy, but pushed those thoughts away to address her audience once again. "Okay, guys and gals, I'm going to have more videos throughout the week here, but I'll be keeping the constant updates going on my twitter, so if you want to know how this whole thing is going be sure to check there regularly. See you real soon!" she blew a kiss to everyone and stopped her recording, leaning back in her chair so she could look down at her diaper. "Why are you so comfortable?" she asked the diaper, gently prodding it with her fingertip. Sitting forward she began to type a search into her browser and as her eyes danced across the results she became entranced with what she was seeing. She'd gone simple with her search, 'adults in diapers', expecting to find medical things mostly, but with a few more relevant results peppered in, adults wearing diapers like the one she wore now were welcome, but not expected, but she got more than she thought she would when the images of adults not only wearing diapers, but also wearing baby clothes sized to fit them littered her screen. She knew that Adult Babies were a thing, she was a Youtube personality after all, but she had no idea what that entailed, not fully anyway, and she was actually blown away by what she was seeing, knowing now that the challenge she'd agreed to was less designed to be something comedic for its silliness and more aimed at something sexual for her challenge giver. ************************************************************************ "Hey, everyone, it's your girl Selene!" she chirped to the camera. Her heart was beating quicker in her chest now as she steeled her nerves for what was to come. "I know I just did a video an hour ago, but I figured we should not waste any time knocking things off the list for this challenge and I'm feeling the need to pee, so we're gonna just go ahead and take care of that right now." she explained before standing up and positioning herself in the center of the frame as she lifted her shirt and took a few deep breaths before focusing on relaxing her body enough to override her decades of toilet training. "This is so much harder than I thought it was going to be." she said nervously to her viewers. She thought she was going to have to scrap the video and try again later, but then she felt herself start to go and once that small trickle started, it quickly grew into a flood and before long she was empty and her once pristine white diaper was swollen and yellowed in the front. She was filled with so many emotions as she sat back down on her chair, the sodden padding squelching beneath her and pressing against her womanly parts pleasantly. "Well, that was," her brain struggled to find the right word for it, a word that wouldn't indicate that she was finding herself more than a little turned on at the moment, "different." she said finally. "I hope this is acceptable proof that I'm indeed committed to doing this challenge, and I'll see you guys again soon!" she said before stopping the video. Alone again, she found herself compelled to prod the front of her diaper now that it was swollen with her own pee, that led to running her fingertips over the warm and squishy surface, which tumbled down into her rubbing herself to climax in the humid confines of her wet diaper. She smiled at the thought of posting a video of herself doing that again, but knew that would put her on the outs with many of her loyal fans, and tanking her viewership was not at all what she was after. Still, after the challenge was over she could look into using the remaining diapers to make some more "adult" videos and sell those for way more than the leftover diapers would be worth. Pleased with her business savvy, she stood up and went to change her diaper, marveling at the expansion of her gait with the now soaked padding swelled up between her thighs. ************************************************************************ Later that same day she made her video showing her eating babyfood with a bib on and her diaper showing. She played the part of baby to a tee, using her hands to scoop out the goopy orange paste with her hands and slathering it on her mouth and cheeks as she attempted to eat it off. When her stomach rumbled she stopped eating and decided to roll with the momentum she'd built, setting down her bowl and getting up on all fours, her messy hands soiling the blanket she'd laid out beneath her before starting the video. Something in her mind told her that she shouldn't break character, and she turned on a higher and much more infantile sounding voice as she told everyone what was happening. "My tummy is awl wumbly and I fink I needta do poopy." she declared as she positioned herself with her butt facing the camera and began to push, making babyish grunting sounds and giggling as she farted a few times. When she felt herself start to actually produce something more solid, her body panicked and she stopped pushing, her mess retracting back into her before she doubled down on her attempt and resumed pushing. The diaper expanded slowly, a little lump forming in the center of her seat and blossoming out slowly as she forced her mess out millimeter by millimeter, her bladder emptying once the larger job was done, leaving her diaper a mix of wet and sticky that she was very conflicted about. The whole thing was over in a minute and a half but it felt like infinitely longer to her and when she was finally done she found herself unable to think of what to do next. She decided to crawl to the camera and get up into a squat before pointing the camera down to her sagging diaper, wiggling it so that it swayed with the weight of her business and then turned the camera back up to her babyfood smattered face. "Uh oh's, I needs a baf! Bye bye's!" she declared, blowing her audience her signature kiss before stopping the video. She masturbated again after feeling the now lumpy seat of her diaper and crawled to the bathroom on weak and wobbly arms and knees where she took a long look at herself in the mirror while she thought about how to best clean herself up. Her face and bib were smattered or altogether coated with dried babyfood and her diaper hung heavy and discolored between her thighs and something about the sight of herself made her happy. She felt cute and innocent and found herself yearning for someone to take care of her and clean her up but pushed those thoughts out of her head with a heavy sigh as she set to cleaning herself up before bed. ************************************************************************ By the last day of the challenge she'd completed all the tasks but one, having someone else change her diaper. She'd thought of all the people in her life and could only come up with one person she would trust to do the job but that person was her sister and she knew that she'd never live it down if she asked her to do that for her. Over the course of the week she'd gotten so much more comfortable with using her diapers that she was wetting herself without hesitation the moment she felt a twinge in her bladder. Messing was still a chore but she'd found that becoming easier as well, even putting up a video of her struggling to control herself as she walked through the mall after eating a questionable meal at the food court culminating in her having a massive accident in the dressing room of Macy's and the subsequent tweeting to her viewers as she had to waddle out of the store and the mall proper with a dangerously full diaper on, sharing her very real fear that she was going to have a blowout in her car and have to set it on fire to destroy the evidence of her humiliating act. "Last day of the challenge, and we're waiting for my sister to show up." she said to the camera on her phone, her heart and mind racing with nervous anticipation as she sat on the blanket she used as her baby mat. She was getting pretty desperate to use her diaper, holding out on wetting herself for when her sister arrived to show her that she was serious about needing to be changed, hoping that her sister would limit her laughing at her and change her out of pity or maybe just to humiliate her further, it didn't really matter what her motive was, so long as she did the deed and put the final part of the challenge to bed. As the front door opened and Selene put her phone away, relying on her desk camera to capture everything for her to edit it together before she uploaded it. "Selene?" her sister called out. "In the living room!" Selene replied, a little spurt of nervous pee escaping into her diaper. Selene's younger sister burst out laughing when she saw her older sister on the floor in her diaper. "What the fuck, Selene?" she asked. "I swear to God if this is another one of those dumbass challenge things you like to do-" she started but was silenced when she saw her sister pick up the purple pacifier beside her and put it into her mouth before getting into a squatting position and start to wet her diaper, the quiet room filling with a wet hissing sound and a bubbling as her diaper struggled to absorb the liquid she was creating and her stream hit the pool she'd created. The room became deathly silent once she'd stopped peeing, and she and her sister just stared at each other for what seemed like forever until she finally managed to speak. "Hadda assident, sissa, pease change me." she said around her pacifier, her head swimming and her pulse pounding behind her eyes. Her sister shook her head. "No way, not fucking happening, Selene!" she yelled, actually startling her older sister. Her anger faded quickly though as she pulled her phone from her back pocket and snapped a picture of her sister and typed away on her phone, moments later the phone began to ring and she answered it. "Hey, mama!" she greeted warmly. Selene's blood ran cold, hoping her sister was just joking but then her sister put the phone on speaker and her mother's voice filled the room. "Selene, have you lost your damned mind?!" her mother shouted. "No, mama." Selene mumbled softly, forgetting she still had the pacifier in her mouth. A heavy sigh came through the speakers. "Janae?" her mother asked. "Yes, mama?" her sister said, smiling devilishly at her older sister. "I want you to pack a bag for your sister and bring her here." their mother said. "Selene, you help your big sister out and show her where all your little diapers are so she can make sure to pack them." she commanded. Selene remained in squatting silence as her sister agreed to their mother's demands and hung up the phone. "Now, baby sister, before we get you all packed up you're going to say goodbye to all your little friends that I know you're recording this for." she said in a mock sweet tone as she set down her purse and went to her sister, taking her by the hand and leading her to the computer. Tears were forming in Selene's eyes as the reality of her situation set in and she stared blankly at the camera and sucked her pacifier. Her sister sighed and gently rubbed her back as she leaned in and whispered into her ear. Selene looked up at her sister pleadingly but had her head turned back to the camera with her sister gently cupping her hand beneath her chin. "My name is Selene Harrison and I am a big baby." she said, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "I have to go now so my mommy can change my diaper, I'll ask her to let my big sister post videos for me so you all can see how my new life is going." she reluctantly said. Her sister patted her head condescendingly and whispered one final thing causing Selene to burst into tears and blubber like a mournful toddler. Janae sighed and moved her sister aside so she could address the audience. "Hey, y'all, as you can see, it's way past time for this little girl's nap, but don't worry, I'll be sure to keep her channel updated for you." she said. "Now, the challenge stuff she's been doing is going to go away, unless you count the challenge of potty training somewhere down the line," she said with a hearty laugh at her sister's expense. "this channel will become more about the daily life of my new baby sister. I'll also be sure to update her Twitter and Instagram pages and maybe you guys can send her mommy some presents for her baby shower." she said, laughing again as Selene to wail off camera. Janae reached over and pulled Selene back into frame and grabbed her wrist and forced the girl to wave at the camera and then blow her signature kiss, urging the sobbing girl to say 'bye bye' to everyone before stopping the video and uploading it. Somewhere in the world, Daddy_Hank_Hill watched with satisfaction and began adding items to his online cart in preparation to send them to his new online baby girl.

I'm gonna put on my sweater of realness and "rap" with you guys for a second, kids say that still, right? Whatever, not important. Here's the deal, the contents of this story are all personal accounts and feelings, this is all me, no hiding behind a vague amalgamation of me that's been cobbled together through personality traits and defects, this is real. I may have fudged the ages a bit to make a bit better timeline, but that's all, oh, and I never had a dad, but that isn't really important, he just went out for smokes, he'll be back soon... Anyway, this is what @Wannatripbaby voted for on my status note, but since he was the only person that voted, he wins, so here's your prize...don't gloat to the others too much about your win, it's not that big a prize. Rumors Of This Story's Dire Importance Have Been Greatly Exaggerated By: RambleLamb Many years earlier, a similar dilemma was quite the common occurrence. Times long since buried beneath the decades of time and emotional growth that comes with it came rushing to the forefront as if no time had passed at all. The small clips of her past played out in her mind like a video being skipped forward to get to the good parts, but those good parts were nowhere to be found in this playlist, only shame, embarrassment, and the reminder of her repeated failures glowing like a beacon, signaling to everyone that she was less than what she presented herself to be. She remembered being four or so, playing in the park during her family's annual get together. The air was warm and the smell of fresh cut grass filled her nostrils as she capered and cavorted with the other children. Freeze tag was the game of the hour, and her little legs pumped as fast as she could make them go, the lingering awkwardness of toddlerhood still not completely removed from her coordination at speeds like that, coupled with the almost exhilarating feeling of fear that she'd be tagged by her cousin who was currently "it" as he used his much more practiced and longer legs to chase her down. When his hand touched her shoulder she screamed, not from terror, that was obvious as her scream morphed into shrill peals of giggling, but scream she did and then she dutifully froze in adherence to the rules of the game and watched as the other kids, the unfrozen kids, flitted about to escape "it". She watched and waited, hopeful that someone would come and unfreeze her so she could run and play again, but every time she swelled with hope as an unfrozen person came close she was let down as they passed by without tagging her. It wasn't all that uncommon for the other kids to overlook her or leave her out, she was new to the fold of active kids after all, having only recently graduated from the playpen or the gated off room where the babies played when the family gathered. In this very park the year earlier she'd been seated on her mother's lap while the older kids played, her eyes growing heavy as the heat and her full tummy threatened to abscond with her to dreamland, her mouth working the teat of her pacifier rhythmically as her mother gently bounced her ever closer to the nap she required to keep her from becoming an unholy terror. Being new to the games with the older kids, she felt, even if she didn't comprehend the intricacies of the reasons behind it, like she needed to prove to the others that she belonged with them. She paid extra close attention to the rules of the game when they were explained, keeping her hands at her sides to keep from sucking her thumb, a habit she still practiced quite frequently to the chagrin of her parents, worried that doing so would send her back to the small cluster of playpens beneath the metal awnings where the picnic tables were. She'd stolen a glance that way before the rules began to be explained, and saw one of her cousins looking over the railing at them, she knew from seeing him when everyone had begun arriving that he was clad in only a shirt and diaper, and she didn't want to inadvertently be lumped in with him and his infantile ilk because of something as silly as her thumb sucking habit. As she stood in place like a good frozen player, watching the small swarm of giggling kids of various ages and sizes flit hither and thither she felt the call of nature and began shouting for someone to unfreeze her so she could head to the restrooms on the edge of the park. Time passed and she remained frozen, tears welling up in her eyes as the need to relieve herself grew more and more urgent and the fear of shamefully proving herself unworthy of her newly assigned station crept into her mind as she pleaded to be unfrozen. When the warm trickle formed beneath her sundress she lost her battle to prove she wasn't what she obviously was, and her mother had to come and get her from where she remained frozen, soaked panties and socks and her thumb in her mouth as she was carried away to have her unfortunate situation resolved for her. She'd spent the remainder of the day with the mothers and babies, forgotten by her older playmates as she busied herself with a toy that had caught her eye when her mother was cleaning her up and getting her into a diaper she'd had to borrow from an aunt, apologizing profusely to the woman for the imposition before chiding her for having to be put back in a diaper in the first place. ************************************************************************ Remembering that long past shame made her blush and she closed her eyes for a moment to try and regain her composure but only succeeded in bringing another memory into view. ************************************************************************ It was the night of her school's Christmas pageant, something a little Jewish girl knew nothing about, but her class had worked on the song "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" for several weeks, and she was eager to show her parents what she'd been working on. She was six now, the family gathering where she'd ended up back in diapers and going down for a nap with the other baby's before the fireworks show was far behind her, she was a big girl in real school and was going to be on stage for the first time and she was beyond excited. Being at school at night was strange to her, everything outside was lit by the high pressure sodium bulbs and all the corridors looked different filled with shadows instead of sunlight. She'd squeezed her father's hand as they'd walked down one of those outdoor corridors on the way to her classroom where her parents dropped her off and gave her instructions to wait there for them after the show, to which she nodded her agreement and understanding and was brought into the group of her classmates to put the finishing touches on her antlers and little smudge of black on her nose so the audience would know she was a reindeer. Walking in the single file line with her classmates, no adult hand to squeeze as the shadows encroached on the walking path, she felt her body signal to her that she needed to find a restroom, but when she tried to get her teacher's attention she found that they were at the side door to the auditorium already and were ushered through and up the small set of stairs onto the stage where she saw the sea of faces and camera flashes and camcorder lights staring back at her. As the piano started, she swallowed hard and focused on her performance, making sure to keep the lyrics in the correct order and sing so she could be heard despite several of the boys in her class practically screaming the lyrics. She couldn't see her parents in the crowd but she knew they were watching, they'd told her they would be, and she wanted to make sure they were as proud of her performance just like she planned to be. The applause filled the auditorium as the class took a bow and scuttled back off the stage, down the little stairs, and through the door back into the shadowy corridor where her bladder again, and more insistently this time, alerted her to its fullness. She waited until they'd arrived back at the classroom before trying to get her teacher's attention, but the teacher was busy with a fight between two of the boys that had been acting up on the stage, so she slipped out the door and to the bathroom. Slinking in and among the shadows, she reached the bathroom door and pushed against it, but gaining no entry to the room beyond, the door was locked and she felt herself spring a little leak as she began to panic and wonder what she was going to do. She saw the light coming from the auditorium door and decided to go find her parents and have them help her find a restroom, creeping through the shadowy corridor and coming to the door, finding herself looking up at the backs of countless parents, none of whose faces she could see, thus rendering her search fruitless. The feeling of hopelessness began to flood in as she began to cry and wet herself, screaming as a hand clamped down on her shoulder and she was spun around to see her mother and father looking down on her with unhappy faces. The whole way to the car and the whole drive home she was lectured about leaving the classroom after being told not to, and then wandering around in the dark alone and putting herself in danger. She'd resorted to sucking her thumb to stop her tears minutes into the car ride, and when her mother turned on the overhead light in the car to turn and look at her when they'd stopped at a red light, she'd had her thumb yanked from her mouth as the lecture turned to the state of her pants and her thumb sucking, the question of her maturity being brought up in tandem with the reminder of how she'd ended up at the family gathering. Her mother had pointed out stores along the way home asking if she'd like them to stop and get her some diapers, bringing more tears and the return of her thumb to her mouth. By the time the last store on the way loomed in the windshield, her mother wasn't asking her what she wanted anymore, she was telling her father to pull into the parking lot and sending him into the store to get some diapers and a pacifier for their apparently infant daughter. When they'd finally arrived home, she was given a bath, diapered and sent to bed without supper, her new pacifier stuck into her mouth to quiet her crying as she was tucked in and left to cry herself to sleep and stew in her feelings of humiliation and remorse at disappointing her parents on what was supposed to be a proud and important night. She shuddered inwardly at that memory, knowing that she'd had to wear each diaper in the pack to bed until the pack was empty, feeling only slightly better at the thought that she'd at least managed to avoid having to wear them to school as her mother had threatened many times. ************************************************************************ Her bladder sent her an urgent message to her in that moment and she winced and chided herself for drinking so much coffee that morning, but another memory allowed her to push those thoughts aside. ************************************************************************ She was ten and was annoyed that she was having to spend the day at the discount store with her mother instead of being with her friends. Shopping with her mother was an exercise in trying to keep one's sanity in the face of walking up and down each aisle of the store and making absent smalltalk about the items they saw on the shelves. She rolled her eyes for the dozenth time since they'd walked into the store some fifteen minutes earlier, and as they reached the end of the aisle, she grimaced at the realization that they'd only seen two aisles in that time with another forty or so remaining to be seen. By aisle six, she felt the need to use the restroom and asked her mother if she could go find one. With her mother's blessing she moved through the store to find someone to ask for directions to the bathroom. When she found someone, a cute boy that was older enough than her for her to feel incredibly self conscious about having to ask about the bathroom but not close enough to her age for her to feel comfortable with being able to pass off the request with nonchalance despite the need growing with each passing moment. She'd returned to her mother and lied, telling her that the store didn't have a bathroom, asking instead if she could go to the larger clothing store next door to try and find one. Her mother was otherwise occupied with a set of picture frames that she thought would look nice in the guest room, and waved her away to do what she needed to do. Making her way out of the discount store and over to the clothing store, her search became more frantic as she scanned the areas she walked by for someone to ask or a sign to guide her, after making two complete laps and finding neither of the things she was searching for, she trudged back to the discount store and rejoined her mother on aisle nine, lying once again when asked if she'd found a bathroom okay. Three aisles later the pain became too much for her and she flooded her jeans right then and there, her mother not noticing with her back to her and shopping occupying all of her attention. Two aisles after that was when the wet denim began to dry and become itchy and uncomfortable, and she finally had to summon the courage to tell her mother what had happened. Her mother fell into her old routine with ease, loudly chastising her for lying and for having an accident, dragging her through the store to the aisle full of off brand diapers from other countries and getting even more angry when it was obvious that those wouldn't be an option for her preteen daughter. They'd left the store with her mother dragging her by the hand like a scolded toddler, making her sit on a blanket in the back seat, threatening her with diapers and spankings from her father the whole way home, none of which came to pass, though she was grounded and sent to her room after her clothes were put in the wash. That was the first time she'd felt disappointment at not being punished. She'd never intentionally wet herself, but she'd had enough accidents in her time that the routine was known, she'd be talked down to and threatened with diapers, asked if she'd like to wear them to school and have all her classmates know that she wasn't able to control herself like some kind of toddler still trying to master the potty. When she was asked things like that she'd briefly entertain the idea of having that happen and become confused when the thought both embarrassed her, as it should, and made her a little happy. She was still years away from learning the truth about herself, but this moment would definitely prove to be a key one in her womanly development. As an adult she'd return to this day in her mind and wonder what would have happened if her mother had stopped the cute older boy she'd been reluctant to approach about her need to find a restroom, and asked him for help finding a diaper that would fit her larger than normal baby. The fantasy would play out with her on the floor of the diaper aisle having her mother opening pack after pack of diapers to try each of them on her, the cute older boy watching as she sobbed and sucked her thumb until finally a fitting diaper was found and she was picked up by him and placed in the seat of the shopping cart which was then loaded up with packs and packs of the winning diaper. This fantasy usually brought her to completion by that point, but sometimes she'd go a step further and have her mother, wheeling her through the store in the shopping cart, happen to bump into a friend of hers from school and have to sit in the cart with her diaper on display while the mothers talked, culminating in her messing her diaper there in the cart and having her old pacifier, which had inexplicably found its way into her mother's purse, shoved into her mouth to stifle her infantile wails. By the time that scenario played out in her mind she would feel like she'd need to bandage her aching fingers before passing out. ************************************************************************ In the present, her mind was reeling from the sudden inclusion of sexual ministrations creeping into the mix of her humiliation highlight reel, and she felt her face flush again. She looked around and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief that no one was paying attention to her. She squeaked quietly as she felt her bladder spasm and squirt a little bit causing her to bite her lower lip. She knew it was only a matter of time now, and she knew that there wasn't any escape from that reality, but she couldn't help but feel the familiar shames wash over her, a lifetime of accidents and degrading lectures, threats and punishments, all of it reaching a fever pitch in her mind as she gave up, letting herself go right there, surrounded by all these people, people she didn't even know. Her diaper swelled with the introduction of this onslaught of liquid and she closed her eyes and savored the warmth as it tickled her most intimate areas and gave her the relief she'd been looking for for the last several minutes. As she finished peeing she looked around again and noticed that no one was paying attention to her, and she smiled as she began moving through the crowd again, her secret accident still a secret, the way it was always meant to be.

Parent Teacher Night By:RambleLamb Her heels clicked on the linoleum and reverberated in the small corridor of the school hallway. She was still dressed in her smart cream colored business suit, her gray peacoat tied loosely closed to defend against the cold outside, as she walked down the hall with her daughter's hand in hers. The little girl worked hard to keep pace with the long, elegant strides of her mother and was more or less being dragged down the hall to her classroom. The handwritten sign on the door read "Ms. Malford, Kindergarten" and below that, a second handwritten sign read "Welcome, parents!" that sign being adorned with pastel smiley face stickers. The woman sighed wearily and pushed the door open, entering with her daughter and releasing her grip on the little girl's hand to remove her own coat while she watched her daughter do the same, taking both coats and looking for a place to put them. "You can hang them up in the cubbies at the back of the room, dear." a kindly older woman's voice said from nearby. The woman gasped, not seeing the woman behind the desk at the front of the room until she'd suddenly spoken. The woman looked at the teacher and then at the coats in her arms and nodded her understanding before clip clopping to the back of the room to hang the coats up on the little hooks inside the tight cubbies and then walked back to the front of the room, looking puzzled as she scanned the area for a place to sit. The teacher rose from behind her desk and gestured with her open palm to the small, brightly colored chairs in front of the desk. "I know they're a little small, but I feel that it's important to have the children be on equal ground with their parents during these meetings," she explained. "it's been my experience that if we treat them like smaller versions of adults we'll see them reach and exceed that expectation sooner than if we coddle them or speak like they're not a part of the conversation." she added. The woman desperately wanted to roll her eyes, but she maintained her demeanor and nodded silently before taking a seat on the small yellow plastic chair, her ample bottom finding the fit to be less than ideal, but not as bad as she'd expected. She turned to see her daughter cover her mouth to suppress a giggle at the sight of her mother on a child's chair, but a sharp look brought the girl to the other chair to sit quietly with her hands folded in her lap. The teacher raised an eyebrow without either of the pair in front of her noticing and sat down in her own chair, a decidedly more adult chair, and opened a file on her desk. "It says here that you're a single parent, is that correct, Allison?" the teacher asked, adjusting her glasses as she read the document in front of her. The woman bristled at the informality of the teacher using her first name rather than addressing her by "Ms. Grey" like other adults would, but she chalked it up to the daft old bat being surrounded by little nose pickers all day and decided to let it go. "Yes, that's correct." she replied demurely. Ms. Malford nodded. "I think it would be a good demonstration for you to address me as "Ms. Malford" or "Ma'am", don't you, Allison?" she asked. Allison felt her face flush at the insinuation that she show this woman respect but not be given it in return but held her tongue. "Yes, Ma'am." she said through clenched teeth, producing another small giggle from her daughter. Ms. Malford smiled and looked back down at her file. "Do you find it difficult to be a single parent?" she asked. Allison shook her head. "No." she said bluntly and immediately added "Ma'am." when Ms. Malford looked up at her. Ms. Malford smiled again and nodded her approval. "Well, Lydia is one of my brightest students, she's often helping the other children after completing her own work, and offering her assistance with various things I need to do to ensure the children are taken care of." she explained. "To hear her tell things, she didn't learn that from you though." she added. Allison looked to her daughter in surprise and then to Ms. Malford. "I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I assure you that I-" she began petulantly but stopped when Ms. Malford held up her hand to her. "I've heard many excuses over the years, Allison, and I'm in no mood to hear more of them tonight." she said. "The simple fact is that, if Lydia is to be believed, and given her behavior in class and her maturity, I do, you're not quite the mature and proper parent you present yourself as." she explained. Allison went red with anger and shot up from her little chair, hands on her hips defensively. "Listen here you old bitch!" she began. "Sit down, Allison!" Ms. Malford commanded with an empowered voice that her slight and almost frail frame hid the existence of. Without hesitation, Allison plopped back down onto the chair, her face red from embarrassment now over anger. Ms. Malford rose from her seat and put her hands behind her back as she walked around the desk, looking at Allison with the practiced eye of a teacher. "That's a perfect example of what I'm talking about, young lady." she said. "Not only are you incapable of handling the slightest bit of constructive criticism, but you're also disrespectful to your elders, short tempered, and you have a potty mouth!" she said, narrowing her gaze as she listed off Allison's shortcomings. "Look, I've been very stressed at work, I have a very important job and-" Allison began to explain but stopped when Ms. Malford again raised her hand toward her. "I believe that I explained already that I'm not interested in excuses." she said simply. "Though, I didn't really expect you to listen to that and avoid wasting my time with them anyway." she added. Allison shifted uncomfortably on her little chair, feeling ridiculous perched on the colorful plastic thing as she was berated by this woman in front of her daughter. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, please, if you'll just let me explain about my situation, I'm sure you'll see that-" she was cut off by Ms. Malford before she could finish her sentence. "In my class, I like to encourage productive dialogue by having the students use other means of communication to illustrate their thoughts and feelings." she explained. "I find that if a student draws a picture of what they're thinking or feeling it helps them to better articulate their points when speaking about them." she added as she walked over to the small circular table near the other side of the classroom and produced a sheet of construction paper and a box of crayons from the nearby shelf of art supplies, laying the items on the table. "I want you to come over to the table, Allison, and draw me a picture of your house and the people in it." she said matter of factly. Allison once again flushed, looking at the small table and imagining herself sitting in one of those chairs coloring a picture like her daughter might. "Ms. Malford I-" she began to protest. "Lydia, would you be a dear and help Allison to the art table?" Ms. Malford asked. The little girl shot right up from her seat, "Of course, Ms. Malford!" she chirped obediently, moving behind her mother's chair, taking her mother's hand and leading the way to the table as requested, her mother shuffling behind her in much the same way Lydia herself had done on the way into the classroom as her mother led her by the hand. After staring blankly at the table for a moment Allison watched her daughter pullout the little chair in front of the paper and crayons and gently guided her mother down onto it before taking a seat nearby and folding her hands politely on the table. "Thank you, Lydia." Ms. Malford said to the little girl with a warm smile, one that quickly faded when she turned her gaze back to Allison. "See, she's quite the mature girl, very helpful with the more," she pondered her next word for a moment, "sluggish students." she finished, satisfied with her description. The implication that she was a sluggish student somehow developmentally below her decades younger daughter wasn't lost on Allison, but looking up from her tiny chair at Ms. Malford made her reluctant to correct the assertion. "Now, as I said before, I'd like you to draw a picture of your house and the people in it." Ms. Malford repeated. Allison reluctantly reached out and picked up the box of crayons, opening it and looking at the colors inside. The smell of the colorful wax brought her back to her childhood, she'd of course smelled crayons since then, but the combination of being in the Kindergarten classroom, seated in the small plastic chair at the little art table preparing to color a picture for a much older woman in a position of power within these walls culminated in a strong feeling of diminishment in her adulthood. She knew she was still the same successful businesswoman she'd been when she walked in the room, but for some strange reason she also felt like she'd somehow shifted back to an earlier, younger version of herself and the feeling made her head feel like it was floating as she pulled a purple crayon out and began drawing on the construction paper. Several minutes passed with Ms. Malford and Lydia watching as Allison created her picture, and when her crayon went back into the box, Allison looked up at Ms. Malford. "All done, dear?" she asked. Allison nodded but remained quiet. Ms. Malford walked around the table and stood behind Allison, placing a hand gently on her shoulder with one hand while the other plucked the paper from the table and held it up so both of them could look at it. "Tell me what you've drawn, Ally." Ms. Malford said sweetly. Allison felt an odd tingle run up her spine and to the base of her skull at hearing the nickname she'd had through elementary school being invoked here in the present. She pointed at the drawing. "This is our house." she explained, pointing to the slightly off kilter box in the center with skewed windows on the face and a wonky door in the center. "Who's this?" Ms. Malford asked, pointing to the larger stick figure in the drawing, a crudely scribbled hourglass over the body to serve as a dress. "That's me." Ally said timidly, the smell of Ms. Malford's perfume filling her nose, reminding her of her grandmother. She remembered playing at her grandmother's house in the Summer, free from school for three wonderful months without a care in the world, but now she found herself back in school and felt a pang of longing for that freedom again. "And this?" Ms. Malford asked, pointing to the smaller stick figure that appeared to be holding a ball or maybe a giant jellybean, the drawing really wasn't very good. "That's Lydia." Ally said, looking over to her daughter who was smiling approvingly at her. Ally felt a swell of pride at Lydia's approval for some reason. Ms. Malford patted Ally on the head softly. "You did a very good job, Ally." she commended. "But, I think maybe you got a little confused when you were drawing, didn't you?" Ms. Malford asked. Ally looked up at the now standing woman, amazed at how she was towering over her, feeling suddenly very small and unsure of herself. "I don't understand." she said, her puzzlement written on her face clear as day. "Well," Ms. Malford began, "you said that this was you, correct?" she asked, pointing to the smaller figure. Ally felt the tingle again, her memory of playing at grandma's house coming back with the smell of Ms. Malford's perfume. She remembered her mother taking her over there for the Summer, but not because she was out of school, that was silly, she wasn't even in school yet, was she? Ally sat in silence as she tried to straighten out her muddled thoughts and memories. "Ally!" Ms. Malford said sharply to draw the girl from her stupor. Ally jumped in surprise and turned to Ms. Malford, suddenly very concerned that she was in trouble and also that the slight wet tickle in her panties meant she'd had an accident when she was startled. Her hands went below the table and clamped between her thighs, feeling the tiny warm spot she'd created there. "Sorry, Ms. Malford, what was the question?" she asked. Lydia rose from her seat and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Malford asked if you'd gotten confused with your drawing because you said this was you." she explained patiently as she pointed to the little figure. Ally tried to remember which figure she'd identified as herself, but she was still struggling with her memory of playing at grandma's and with the dampness in her panties. "Yes." she finally said absently as she wondered if the dampness was growing or not. Ms. Malford nodded. "I see, so you're this one." she said, pointing to the little figure. "And Lydia is this one?" she clarified, pointing to the larger figure. Ally remembered now that her mother had brought her to her grandmother's house when she was little. She remembered being carried and playing outside, but not all the way outside. The attention shifting from the situation in her panties allowed her to focus better but also allowed the situation to spill out of control, creating a little puddle beneath her chair. She remembered looking at the yard through a fence, and then everything clicked, she'd been in a playpen outside, because she wasn't a girl out of school for the Summer, she was a baby! "Baby!" she exclaimed with pride. Lydia was gently rubbing Ally's back and nodding. "Are you a baby, Ally?" she asked softly. Ally looked at Lydia and then at Ms. Malford and then felt the clammy wetness on her bottom and struggled to understand what was happening. "Ms. Malford, Ally had an accident." Lydia said, continuing the reassuring rubbing of Ally's back. Ms. Malford clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "This is precisely what I was talking to you about earlier, Lydia." Ms. Malford began as she moved back to Ally and took the girl's hand, gently pulling her to her feet. "Ally exhibits clear indicators that she's simply not ready for school yet, and I think would benefit from some time in our daycare to more properly cement the elements in her development that are clearly lacking." she explained as she placed Ally's hand in Lydia's and led the way to the door, Lydia moving behind her with Ally in tow as they moved through the door and down the hall. Ally looked down at her feet as they stumbled along clumsily behind Lydia, she wondered absently where they were going, but the cold wetness in her panties reminded her that she'd had an accident and she knew that the grownups were taking her to fix the problem. Standing outside another door, Ms. Malford unlocked it and entered, flipping on the lights as she did. Lydia pulled Ally along inside, Ally looking at the brightly colored sign on the door and giggling at the cartoon sun and flowers but not seeing what the words near them said. As they entered the room Ally saw the toys and immediately raced forward to them only to be stopped in her tracks by Lydia's firm grasp on her hand. "They'll be time enough for play in a moment, Ally, but first we need to get you cleaned up, don't we?" Ms. Malford asked rhetorically. Ally looked to Lydia and saw the warm, reassuring smile on her face and felt a calm wash over her. Ms. Malford and Ms. Grey weren't mad at her for having an accident, they were going to make it all better and then she could go play. The prospect of playing with the brightly colored toys on the soft and colorful playmat made her happy and she obediently followed behind Ms. Grey as she led her to the back corner of the room where the changing tables were. "Now, because of Ally's size, I'm afraid she won't be able to use all of the things the teachers have available to them for caring for the other little ones, but I'm sure they'll manage just fine." Ms. Malford explained as she grabbed a plastic mat from beneath the top of the changing table and handed it to Lydia. "I'm afraid I'm not quite as spry as I used to be, Ms. Grey, but I'm confident you can handle things here perfectly well." she said. Lydia nodded and got down on her knees to spread the plastic mat out and gently but commandingly guided Ally down onto it before beginning the process of disrobing her charge. Ally had decided that the brightly colored things hanging from the ceiling were overwhelmingly fascinating and reached her hands up to grab them, the concept of distance eluding her as she jostled back and forth at Ms. Grey helping her out of her clothes. Ms. Malford had gone to the small desk on the other side of the room and returned with a pink and white bag which she set beside Ms. Grey. "I had hoped we wouldn't need this, but prepared it in case." she explained. Lydia set the wet clothes aside and went into the bag, pulling something out and leaning forward, placing it to Ally's lips. "Open up for your binky, sweet girl." she cooed. Ally felt a rubbery material on her lips and opened her mouth instinctively, allowing the object to enter and fill her mouth. As she probed it with her tongue and tentatively tried to chew on it, she found herself beginning to suck and was again filled with a wave of calm. "See there, she's clearly much more akin to a toddler or infant." Ms. Malford declared. Lydia nodded. "I feel like it's my fault for not seeing the signs sooner." she said. "I hope that she'll be able to catch up to where she should be soon." she added as she went back into the bag and produced the container of baby wipes that she began to use to clean Ally's wetness from her. Ms. Malford nodded approvingly. "I'm still so impressed with how mature you are for your age, Ms. Grey." she stated. Lydia was finishing her task of rubbing the powder into Ally's skin and wiping off her hands before she pulled the pastel pink diaper from the bag and quickly affixed it to Ally's waist with the tapes firmly and patted the front of it gently. "My grandmother always said that age was just a number, that some people were wise beyond their years." she said as she watched Ally roll onto her side and crawl away to the toys on the other side of the room, plopping down with a crinkle and her legs splayed out in front of her as she sucked her pacifier and pulled the colorful plastic items from the little basket containing them. Lydia smiled as she watched Ally play, "Then others are older on the outside than they really are on the inside." she said. Ms. Malford nodded. "It's getting late, Ms. Grey, perhaps you should call your grandmother to come and pick you both up." she offered sagely. Lydia nodded as she bagged up Ally's wet clothes and put them into the diaper bag. "My phone is in the other room, would you mind keeping an eye on her for a minute?" she asked as she rose to her feet. "Not at all, dear." Ms. Malford assured her. Once Lydia was out of the room, Ms. Malford approached Ally and looked down at her. "Lydia told me that you weren't quite up to the task of being a parent, dear." she began. "Tales of late nights out with clients that resulted in you stumbling home and passing out on the couch, often wetting yourself in your sleep and shamefully allowing your daughter to clean up after you while you showered, at her insistence no less. Eating meals prepared by her and balking at something as simple as attending a parent teacher conference because it wasn't a desirable task." she explained disappointedly. Ally looked up at the woman and though she wasn't quite sure what she was saying, she knew she was disappointed in her, and that didn't make her feel very good, it made her tummy feel like it was spinning and she began to fuss behind her pacifier. "I know you're not going to comprehend any of this, that's why I'm sharing it with you, but I'm a very powerful witch." she said. "One of my favorite things to do is balance the scales when they're nearing their tipping point, in this case, the inequity of your relationship with your daughter." she said, smiling down at Ally. "All of the changes are already beginning to take form, but tomorrow morning will be a fresh start for your family, you'll wake up knowing that you're too little even for Kindergarten despite being an adult, Lydia will wake up knowing that she's now the more mature sister in your relationship despite being twenty odd years younger than you, and your mother will wake up knowing that she's got two daughters, one poised for greatness and academic pursuits while the other one is destined to repeatedly fail the simple task of keeping her diapers clean and dry." she explained. "If you can master potty training before Lydia finishes school here then everything will go back to normal." she added. Ally furrowed her brow and felt herself sit forward to allow something to enter the seat of her diaper and that made her tummy feel better and she sat back and giggled at the silly old lady talking to her before a yawn escaped her. Ms. Malford chuckled to herself. "I half expected that to be your answer." she said. Lydia returned with the coats and purse left in the other room. "Grandma will be here soon." she said as she set the items down and went to Ally and Ms. Malford. "Did she give you any trouble?" she asked. Ms. Malford shook her head. "I'm afraid she'll need a clean diaper before bed, but aside from that, she was a perfect angel." she said. Lydia sighed teasingly and looked down at Ally. "Did you make a poopy after I just changed you?" she asked rhetorically. "Honestly, Ally, sometimes I wonder if you'll ever grow up!" she joked. Ms. Malford laughed knowingly and admired her handiwork.

Greetings, fellow deviants! I come to you today with a brand new story! "But RambleLamb, you still haven't finished your other story!" - many someones, probably. To that I say shhhhh, I'm doing things and that should be good enough. Before I submit this thing I'm undertaking, I want to thank @bbykimmy for providing the names for our two leads, they're very pretty names and all credit goes to her for them. <3 My hope with this story is that I'll be able to tap into some raw and real emotion to elevate the story to something better than a fake Civil War documentary. I touched on something when I wrote one of my very dark short stories, but that emotion was angry and cathartic whereas I hope to touch on something weepy and fulfilling for this particular story. I plan for this to be a very long story, and that obviously means it won't be jumping into the realm of "OMG lesbian diaper sex!!!!!1!!!" until much, much later, but there will be lesbian diaper sex and by that I mean there will be diapers that identify as lesbian unfolded and touching padding, spoiler alert, everyone now needs a towel. Okay, I think I've properly set the bar for expectation and given the people what they didn't ask for, so if everyone is ready, please enjoy the story and be sure to comment if you have time or desire to let me know how bad/good I'm doing, if you have any likes to give and @bbykimmyhasn't posted anything to claim them, I'd very much appreciate one or more floating my way. A.B + D.L. = <3 By: RambleLamb Part One: About a Girl Chapter One: New Kid in School "Numbers, letters, learn to spell Nouns and books and show and tell At playtime we will throw the ball Back to class, through the hall" The White Stripes - "We're Going to be Friends" Beginnings are always the hardest part of storytelling, at least for me they are. When I sit down to write I'm filled with a near limitless number of ideas about where things could or should end up, and the myriad of branching pathways that can lead my characters to those ends makes me hopeful that something special can be achieved in my writing. When I set to kicking everything off though, that's when things become difficult and the pressure to produce coupled with the fear of failure leaves me staring at a blinking line on my computer screen for hours on end. I've tried writing the ending first and working backward, but that's counterintuitive for the way my brain works, and everything just ends up being a muddled and unfinished mess. The truth is that that's the most true representation of what I'm trying to achieve though, because I can't think of any words more accurate to describe life than 'a muddled and unfinished mess'. We can never write the ending to our own life stories, time or disease or even freak accident does that for us. Someone writing about our life after we're gone may know every last detail about our history, but they can't really capture our personality or the deeper innermost thoughts and subtle nuances that made us the person that we are. I can tell you that my name is Alina Benez, but that won't mean anything to you at this point because you know nothing else about me. I'm just a name to you right now, a static pairing of monikers that does little to nothing to create a fully realized human being that has a life, dreams, hopes, fears, all the things that make me who I am. More to the point, you have no reason to care about me or my story right now, and that's where we have to begin. We have to give you a reason to want to read my story, something to make you invested in me enough to want to go on a journey with me to discover what I'm about and where I'll eventually end up. I can give you the long, sordid history of my family, and that would certainly give you an accurate picture of why I am the person I am today, but to do that would take up an entire novel's worth of story, but this isn't Harry Potter, and we're not going half a dozen books or more to tell you that I'm a girl and I'm unequivocally in love with another girl, and have been for as long as I can remember. In a weird way, I don't feel like I can tell you my story without telling you parts of her story, I mean, it's not like either of us had lived very long before we met, though I know that time doesn't always give an accurate indication of maturity. In truth, even though we were only in first grade when we met, we were both pretty far along when it came to life experience, but we'll get to that a little later. For now, let's talk about the first time I met Dawn Lassiter, and how the random chance of assigned seating changed both of our lives forever. ****************************************************************************** The din of the other children discussing their weekend adventures filled the room as everyone entered and made their way to the back of the room to put their coats and lunchboxes away in their assigned cubbies. I waited patiently near the middle of the room to avoid the crush of the other little human beings carrying on about the cartoons they'd watched or the places they'd gone while paying little attention to their surroundings, regularly bumping into one another as they babbled on. I held my plain red lunch box with both hands as I watched each child put remove their coat and or hat and put it on their designated hook, dropping their lunch container of choice in the little box below either with care or apathy depending on the student, or perhaps depending on the contents of the container. Amber Barrington, for example, carefully placed her pink lunchbox adorned with princesses of various animated features in the box so as not to disturb what was most certainly a very gourmet lunch inside. Conversely, Danicka Lane practically hucked her lunchbox into the cubby, clearly unconcerned with whether her PB&J on white remained intact for the designated eating period. Once the majority of my fellow students had moved on to their desks I made my way to my cubby, setting my lunchbox down carefully in the lower compartment, removing my hood from my head, allowing my chestnut hair in its tight ponytail freedom to breathe once more before unzipping my red hooded jacket and hanging it on its hook, taking a moment to smooth out my uniform with my olive toned hands before shuffling over to my own seat. Being in the back of the class meant I got a good view of the back of everyone else, giving me a chance to see them all without having to be seen myself. In the few months since school had started, I'd come to know most of the other girls by the backs of their heads more than by their faces. I knew that Cynthia Mckinney hadn't mastered the fine art of brushing her own hair just yet, the frizzy sand colored mop on the top of her head usually threatening to seize up in an explosion of tangles not helped by the fact that she had a penchant for wrapping her hair around her thumb to suck on it when she got nervous or was overly tired. I knew that Hazel Grant would probably be bald by the time she hit thirty given how brittle and strawlike her blonde hair was even at age six. One thing I didn't know, and couldn't learn from staring at the back of a girls head was, was what kind of girl they were, and that's what kept me back while everyone else rushed in in the morning, what made me stand with one foot turned inward as I gripped my lunchbox for dear life, what kept my hand from raising when I knew the answer to a question the teacher asked. I wanted to be part of their conversations, like any other child wants to be a part of a peer group, integrating successfully and moving from "classmate" to "friend", but I never knew what to say or how to act around them. On the first day of school we were made to stand up in front of the class and say our name and one personal thing about us, and some girls chose to share their love of ponies or a favorite color, others shared how many toys they had and how wonderful it was to have a Summer home in some distant part of the world where money buys the time and labor of other people less fortunate than yourself so you can have ice cold juice by the pool. I chose to share that my dad had died two years prior and that I listened to his extensive record collection every chance I could and that I wanted to grow up to be a musician like he had been, in hindsight, this is not the kind of information that makes other six and seven year old girls think you're friendship material. No one really talked to me after that bit of sharing. It wasn't that they actively avoided me or anything so harsh as that, they just didn't even try. My mom told me, after I'd come home crying and begging her to move us to another place with a new school so I could have a clean slate to try again, that people my age didn't know what to do with certain information and that the other girls not talking to me didn't mean they didn't like me, it just meant that they weren't really sure how to talk to me since they hadn't experienced the death of a parent and didn't listen to and enjoy music written decades before they were born. She assured me that one of them, or more, would come around eventually and everything would work out for me. My mother is many things, but it's that assurance that cemented her as a liar in my mind. My salvation from a childhood of eating lunch alone and reading on the bench outside while hops were scotched and ropes were jumped came in the form of a little girl with jet black hair and ice blue eyes. She couldn't, at that time, show off her individuality given the strict dress code at St. Abigail's Academy for Young Girls, but she was instantly someone I knew I wanted to be friends with. When she arrived in our classroom, accompanied by the Vice Principal, she was wearing a purple hooded sweatshirt similar to my own, the hood down allowing the ladybug barrette adorning her shoulder length hair. "Ladies, quiet down please." Mrs. Thomasson said, clapping her hands three times in succession as she made her way from her desk to stand beside the newly arrived girl and take the note the Vice Principal was holding out for her. The room quieted and everyone turned their attention to the front of the room, a few small whispers ending the excited chatter as Mrs. Thomasson took her place next to the new girl, placing a hand on her shoulder to show the Vice Principal that custody of the girl had officially been transferred. "Class, this is Dawn Lassiter," Mrs. Thomasson said, reading the girl's name from the paper in her hand. "and she'll be joining our class going forward." she added, her horn rimmed glasses sliding down the longish bridge of her nose to be pushed back into place by her bony index finger. "Why don't you tell us a little about yourself, dear." the older woman urged with a reassuring pat of her hand on the girl's shoulder. Dawn shifted her backpack from her shoulder and set it down on the floor in front of her, taking a deep breath before looking up at the class and plastering a broad and friendly, if not forced, smile onto her face. "My name is Dawn and my family just moved here from Las Vegas." she said. The class began to hum with individual conversations at this information, the possibilities of all the depraved debauchery this girl could have witnessed in a den of sin as notorious as Las Vegas. Ridiculous things were whispered, including whether Dawn's mother was a stripper, if her father was a mobster, even if Dawn herself had been a prostitute. That last wondering had come from Tiffany Alvarez who regularly let everyone know that she had HBO and that her parents didn't care if she watched it. Dawn's smile remained despite the rudeness of the other girls, and after a few more claps from Mrs. Thomasson the room returned to its polite quietness. "I'm really happy to be here, and I hope we can all be friends." the young girl added, forcing excitement into her statement for the benefit of her peers. "Thank you dear, and welcome. Why don't you find an empty cubby in the back for your coat and other things and take a seat at the empty desk in the back." Mrs. Thomasson urged, giving the girl one final reassuring pat on the shoulder to send her on her way. Hearing that Dawn was to take the desk next to mine filled me with happiness, my clean slate had arrived and she seemed nice and interesting and I'd get to have the first opportunity of everyone in the class to befriend her. I watched her walk to the back of the room and remove her coat and put it on the hook before she opened her backpack and pulled out her lunchbox and put it in the cubby below. I turned my attention away as she made her way to her desk and waited until she sat down to turn toward her and smile, jutting my arm out toward her with my hand open for shaking, because I'm a very well mannered dork. "My name is Alina, it's nice to meet you, Dawn!" I greeted in a hushed tone to not alert Mrs. Thomasson. Dawn looked at my hand and then up at my increasingly nervous smile, and then her face lit up as she placed her hand in mine and shook it enthusiastically. "It's nice to meet you too, Alina!" she declared in a similarly hushed tone. ****************************************************************************** You never know the moments that are going to change your life forever, apart from the ones that end your life or devastate it immediately, like losing a limb or something. We always see our lives as these long roads that stretch outward into years beyond comprehension when we're younger. We may think randomly about being an old person straddling the line between life and death, but then we remember that that's not going to happen for decades and push it out of our minds. We rarely take into account the pitfalls of everyday life that can take that old age from us and squash our plans for the future without giving us a chance to do anything about it. I didn't know that when I was four my father was going to be involved in a fatal car accident caused by a drunk driver. My mother didn't know that had she let my father take the extra twelve minutes he needed to finish the work he was doing in his studio that he would have gotten home from the store without issue and we would have continued being a complete family unit for who knows how long. The drunk driver that took my father's life that night didn't know that he'd had just a little too much to drink during his celebrating his wife's pregnancy announcement with his friends from work and that getting behind the wheel that night would destroy two families forever. That was a bad moment in my life, but it strengthened me as a person for having experienced it, and even though I would trade anything in the world to have my father back, I'm not sure what kind of person I would be without that experience. In that regard, meeting Dawn Lassiter that day in first grade set me on a path that has made me the woman I am today. We obviously wouldn't know our true feelings for one another until much later in life than our Elementary School days, but that first day she appeared in our class started a friendship that lasted a good long while, but we'll get to that later. ****************************************************************************** "So what was it like living in Las Vegas?" I asked Dawn as we sat on the swings together during recess. She shrugged nonchalantly. "It wasn't as crazy as all the other girls think." she said. "We lived in a house away from the city, so it was actually pretty quiet, but I could see the lights from my bedroom window and my dad took me there a couple of times when he had things to do there, and he let me ride on his shoulders when we walked past the casinos and I could see people gambling and having fun, so that was kind of cool." she explained. I nodded. "Those girls are dumb." I told her, not actually meaning to be as blunt as I was. "I mean, they were saying things that were silly about your family just because you lived in Las Vegas." I corrected. She nodded. "I heard someone say she wondered if I was a prostitute." she said. "I don't know what that is, but I don't think I was one." she added with an embarrassed smile. "That was Tiffany Alvarez, she watches HBO and thinks she's so smart and knows all this grownup stuff, but she was my bunkmate at camp this last Summer, and she cried like a baby when her parents dropped her off and when we told ghost stories around the campfire, and when we went swimming and everyone laughed at her because she wouldn't let go of the dock." I told her, trying my best not to laugh thinking about it. "Basically, she's a big baby that pretends to be so grownup so people think she's cool." I added. Dawn giggled at the stories about Tiffany and smiled at me. "That's good to know, thank you." she said warmly. I nodded and returned her smile. "You're welcome." I said. "Don't let any of these girls try and make you feel like they're cooler than you, they're all just scared little girls pretending to be something they aren't." I told her. "What about you?" she asked as she stopped herself with her feet in the worn rut beneath her swing. I stopped myself the same way and looked at her confused. "What about me?" I asked. She shrugged. "I mean, are you as cool as you seem to be or are you just a scared little girl too?" she asked. My heart skipped a beat that she'd vocalized her thoughts of me being cool to her, and I shook my head to get my thoughts back under my control. "I'm not cool." I confessed. "I read books by myself while the other girls play, and apart from you, I don't have any friends." I told her quietly, ashamed that the embarrassing truth about me was spilling out to someone I desperately wanted to like me. "What kinds of books?" she asked. "I'm reading The Phantom Tollbooth right now." I told her. Her face lit up. "I love that book! We'll have to talk about it after you finish it!" she exclaimed excitedly. I was so surprised that I'd found another person my age that read at a higher grade level that I sat with my mouth open for longer than was socially acceptable, and only managed to close it when it registered to me that Dawn was giggling at me. "Are you shocked that I'm able to read?" she asked. I shook my head vehemently. "No!" I exclaimed. "I just was surprised that you had read that book, it's like a grade four or five book." I told her. She nodded. "My dad read it with me last month." she said. "He helped me with some of the words." she added with a small blush. "Does your dad read with you too?" she asked hopefully, maybe thinking she'd made herself seem stupid in my eyes because she wasn't entirely as independent in her reading as I was. I lowered my head and shook it. "No." I told her. "Um, my dad died two years ago." I added glumly. She gasped and put her hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know!" she declared apologetically. I nodded. "There's no way you could have known, it's okay." I said quietly as I looked over to her and forced a smile. The genuine feeling of compassion radiating from her hand into my shoulder put me immediately at ease. A moment passed to allow the awkwardness to fade and Dawn gave my shoulder a small pat. "Would you like to come over to my house this weekend?" she asked. "You can help me figure out how to decorate my room and maybe sleep over!" she added excitedly. My little heart swelled and I nodded eagerly, the awkwardness and hurt forgotten completely. "I'll ask my mom tonight!" I told her to which she made a happy squealing sound as she bounced on the seat of the swing. *************************************************************************** To this day I don't know why I put myself in the position that I did, I mean, I could have easily declined her invitation to sleep over, or lied and said my mother had told me no, but I think some part of me never wanted to lie to Dawn, that she was too important a person in my little world to jeopardize our just beginning friendship by building it on a foundation of lies. Maybe I wanted her to know everything about me and keeping my nighttime secret from her wasn't an issue because I felt confident that she wouldn't judge me or mock me or tell anyone. Whatever the true reason was, I took an unknowing step into a future relationship with Dawn because of that sleepover, and knowing what I know now, maybe that wasn't the best idea after all.

The Next Day: Pastel Friday "Can we please go home?" I whined. My wife sighed, looking up from her tablet at me with incredulity before reaching out to the pacifier dangling from the clip on the front of my coat, grabbing it and pushing the bulb gently but firmly into my mouth. "I told you this was what we were doing, and I told you what would happen if you got overly fussy, now, are you going to be a good girl and let Mommy finish reading or are we going to have to show the rest of the people in line how a proper spanking is given?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow. I sullenly sucked on the pacifier and shook my head, sucking my body in tight to my coat to stave off the cold. I looked up to see a man my age kneeling on a camping chair looking at the long line of people behind his place in line. He was sucking on a bottle of something dark, probably hot chocolate, certainly not coffee, unless that was his Daddy's secret weapon for this outing, an overly caffeinated little monster that could destroy the competition with flailing limbs and limitless energy. I looked away when our eyes met and he popped the nipple of his bottle from his mouth and stuck out his tongue at me, what a brat. At several areas in the line behind where we were camped the wails of complaint similar to my own but handled much less maturely began to rise up over the line and hang their until dealt with by the parent or guardian in charge of the tantrum throwing little. One girl was screaming that her diaper was stinky, another person, I couldn't discern whether they were a boy or a girl, was crying like an actual infant, the sound cutting right through my various layers and freezing my blood. I imagined they were probably so far gone into their regression that they were toothless and swaddled up to keep them from flailing about and unable to make any conscious protest outside of the wailing they were doing. I thanked my lucky stars that Mommy hadn't wanted a newborn when she'd decided to restructure our lives. I could live with being more of a toddler if the alternative was being so far gone that nothing I said or did mattered to anyone. There were actual moments of genuine happiness in my life as an adult toddler, I still had the ability to walk and talk, I was allowed solid foods, I could read and watch television, aside from the endless diapering, life wasn't all that different from what it had been when I was a proper adult. Beneath my pink and purple footed pajamas, worn because of the low temperature outside the store, my bottom and pubic area swelled with three overnight diapers, one taped over the next. Walking was a near impossibility, hence being relegated to my stroller, the strap coming up the front of my diapered crotch to the three-point harness around what may or may not have been my waist given the added bulk normally pressed just right into my often sodden diapers to give me a little bit of grownup enjoyment, but with all this padding I was completely numb down there and was getting pretty cranky about it. I stuck out my leg and tapped Mommy's knee with the tip of my pajama clad toes, pointing at the pacifier in my mouth with an amorphous mittened hand. She reached over and plucked the pacifier by the small strap from my mouth. "Yes, sweetpea?" she asked. "How much longer until the store opens?" I asked, doing my best not to sound like I was whining. Mommy looked at the screen on her tablet. "Another two hours, baby, why don't you try and take a little nap." she suggested, though suggestions from Mommy were often just commands in a razor thin veil of free will on my part. She went into the diaper bag beneath the stroller and pulled out my pink fleece baby blanket, the one with all the little yellow stars on it that made me so warm and cozy that I'd never managed to stay awake beneath it for more than a few minutes. I waited for her to drape it over me, but instead she put the pacifier back into my mouth and unbuckled the harness holding me in the stroller, pulling me up and out onto my feet and laying the blanket down inside the stroller. My eyes opened wide with fear at the realization of what she was doing, and I tried to plead to her but I had to do so without removing the pacifier lest I show all the people in line my cute little butt right before it was spanked. Ignored, I was lowered back down into the stroller and the blanket was spun around me like a spider's web, pinning my arms and legs within the tight cocoon, leaving me on the verge of a tantrum, that, if I'd had to guess given my tiredness and the feeling of complete helplessness at having been swaddled in my stroller like some adult newborn, would have quickly devolved into the same infantile wails I'd heard earlier. My breathing quickly calmed and my thoughts slowed like the cold was freezing them over as they tried to race to a point where I could find a way out of this predicament. As my eyes began to droop I heard Mommy talking to another parent in line about me, the other woman commenting about how cute I was and how much she loved newborns but couldn't imagine having one as little as that herself, as sleep overtook me I missed Mommy's response but hoped it was one correcting the woman's assumption that I was a newborn. The store, the first "big box" of its kind, one that dealt solely in toys and furniture for adult babies and littles had opened a few months after the lifestyle craze of spouses, significant others, and even older children being brought back to the simpler days of toddler and babyhood had exploded almost overnight. Some argued that the rumblings of the movement had been going on in secret for some time, finally gaining ground and rushing to the forefront of society once it was believed that the overwhelming number of people willing to join this lifestyle was high enough that no one would be able to stop it and society itself would have to change to accommodate the new normal many had adopted. The reasons for these people from all walks of life joining the movement varied as much as the backgrounds, some went into it willingly, agreeing mutually that whatever relationship once existed wasn't right and a parent/child relationship made more sense. Others were forced into it, having their rights and adulthood stripped from them for reasons like infidelity, poor performance at work or school, unsatisfactory providing for the family, things that would normally spell the dissolution of a marriage or the removal of financial support by a parent for a child now meant a reduction in status within the household to that of a small child or infant. For Mommy and I, it was a mix of the two. I'd lost my job and couldn't manage to secure another one for quite some time. I would do chores around the house to help out, but my fetish of ageplay often meant I would rush to get the chores done so I could play, resulting in shoddily completed tasks that Mommy would often have to redo to get them satisfactorily completed. When the news reports started coming in of people being spotted out and about being treated like babies we were both entranced, seeing our fantasy world playing out en masse out in the real world with less and less concern or outrage as the days and weeks went by and the number of sightings increased tenfold. When she'd broached the subject of making the change, she'd picked my most vulnerable moment, a time when I really had no way of arguing with any real authority why I shouldn't be the toddler of the house on a permanent basis. I was flat on my back on the changing pad on the floor of our bedroom, my training panties struggling to contain the brown lump I'd let enter them because I was so engrossed in the game I'd been playing. The thighs of my denim shortalls were dark with the wetness of my full bladder releasing as the more infantile act carried out in the back. Her argument was sound, and all my protestations, had I been able to think of any, would have come out slurred from behind my pacifier. Rather than argue, I simply nodded my agreement and suckled my pacifier as she cheerfully cleaned me up and replaced my usual training panties with one of the cutesy adult baby diapers reserved for nap and bedtime or when the scene of the day dictated that I was no longer expected to use the potty. As the diaper was taped on I felt the pang of loss, not for my use of the potty, but for the life I'd just agreed to abandon. After that things had moved quickly, had I thought about it, I might have wondered how long she'd had this planned before bringing it up to me, but I wasn't supposed to worry about things like that anymore, so I just sat in the playpen and watched her change the guest room into a full nursery. I watched as box after box of my grownup clothes were filled and taped shut and moved out the front door to be donated to charity while box after box of adult toddler and baby clothes were brought in and stored in the nursery closet. I sucked on my pacifier as she opened countless boxes filled with countless packages of diapers of colors, patterns, and thicknesses that made trying to discern how many years of being in diapers she had planned for me. The government, in response to the overwhelming influx of newly infantilized citizens had declared that in order to keep the economy from falling apart due to the drastic decrease in working individuals, they would offer each affected family a monthly stipend based on the number of adult babies in the household and the developmental level of the person with regards to how they were treated. Adult daycare's and nursery schools began to pop up all across the country around this time, and after a number of high profile celebrities made their public debuts as adult babies the markets for adult baby care items, fashions, and anything else you could think of reached critical mass and the economy exploded with people buying up huge ticket items to outfit new nurseries or retrofit businesses. The new normal was here to stay and had ushered in a new era of prosperity for the world. Jobs payed higher wages because of the decreased workforce, robots were more mainstream for labor intensive jobs and that increased productivity and reduced costs to manufacture goods, science moved forward on things that had been shelved for far too long because of the concern for what impact it would have on society, like electric cars replacing fossil fuel powered vehicles, agriculture became something where super foods became the most common item sold and so many other advancements. Once the first holiday season began to loom on the horizon everything had settled into status quo. Life had changed for the world and it had changed for the better. No one had any complaints, and if they did they were more than likely silenced with a bottle or pacifier because the only people that had any lingering issues with the state of the world were those that had been unwillingly forced into their new lives. We'd had our families over to our house for Thanksgiving, leading to the discovery that both of us had family members that had made the change and the need to expand the kid's table to accommodate a few more rugrats than we'd initially expected. I watched with bugged out eyes as my nineteen year old nephew was breastfed on the couch by my sister and Mommy watched with similar fascination as her brother scooped up his wife from the floor and carried her back to the nursery to deal with the stinky diaper she'd created as she played with some soft toys on a blanket next to a few of the biological children of the family. The whole day and evening was made up of events like that, Mommy and the other adult parents discussing things and events in the lives of their bundles of joy while said bundles played on the floor in the other room. My nephew lay on the floor beneath a baby play station that dangled noisy and colorful bits of cloth above him as he kicked his legs and gnawed on his fist with his toothless gums. Before the world had become what it was, he'd been well on his way to an early grave from drugs and alcohol, but now he was a very happy and well behaved baby in every regard. My sister had explained to Mommy that they'd gone to a special clinic the specialized in helping people accept their new lives and that after the first session they'd been so impressed with the difference in their son that they'd opted for the full treatment, bringing him down to the newborn level, inducing lactation in my sister to accommodate her new babies needs as well as to strengthen the bond between baby and mother. When the subject of the Black Friday sale at "Rockabye AB" had come up, my ears focused in on the conversation and I immediately felt a tantrum begin to bubble up inside me, the idea of going out into the cold night to stand in line outside for gods knew how long to get whatever Mommy wanted for me was totally unacceptable to me, I wanted to be in my warm crib snoozing away, not bundled up for warmth surrounded by strangers. When Mommy woke me up, she did so with a bottle, not uncommon, and I began to nurse it slowly, expecting the warm milk she usually gave me when it was chilly or maybe even hot cocoa, but this was sweeter than the milk she normally gave me, creamier and so wonderfully delicious that my slow nursing became a greedy sucking as she held the bottle for me in my fleece cocoon. Once the bottle began to whistle air as it emptied completely and the bottle was removed, I could see her smiling down at me. "Well, Mommy will have to thank your big sister for the bottle later today, I don't think you've ever finished a bottle that quickly in your life!" she declared with a grin as she rolled me onto my side and began to pat my back, producing a large burp from me after a few swats between the shoulder blades. I looked up at her in confusion for a moment as she wiped the bit of drool and milk from my lips and chin and put my pacifier back into my mouth. "Maybe Mommy should go to that clinic and make it so she produces milk, then you can have bottles like that all the time. Would you like that, baby? Mommy's milk all the time?" she asked rhetorically. My stomach began to flip flop as the realization that I'd just greedily downed a bottle of my sister's breast milk hit me. I squirmed in the stroller, trying to break out of my cozy confines, the strain and struggle tiring me out and forcing the previous evening's meal into the seat of my diaper effortlessly. Mommy reached down and put her hand gently on my chest to stop my squirming and smiled at me before leaning forward and kissing my forehead just below the pastel pink knit cap I wore. "Would you like to see what we're here to get?" she asked, again without any expectation that I'd answer. She grabbed her tablet and held it up near my tummy so I could see it and clicked on a tab at the top I couldn't read because of the smaller font and as the page loaded I felt like had I not just filled my diaper I would have at the sight before me. The header read "Wishlist" and below that were images of the items we were here to get. The first item was a bassinet. "So you can sleep next to Mommy's bed so she doesn't have to go all the way to the nursery for your new feeding schedule." she'd explained. The next item was an adult sized version of one of those play stations that you set the baby down into and they can spin around to play with everything on the hub around them but can't go anywhere. "So Mommy knows her baby girl is safe all the time." came the explanation. The last item was an assortment of teething rings and soft toys dubbed the "New Baby Box" that also came with the choice of a year's supply of "Newborn" diapers, touted as "the thickest" diapers on the market, capable of holding the near constant dribbles and messes of even the tiniest adult baby or a year's supply of treatments and sessions at an adult baby conditioning center to "ensure that your baby's mindset matches your view of how little they should be". I felt the tears forming in my eyes and tried with all my might to spit the pacifier out to protest but found that my struggles only resulted in more feverish sucking which soothed me to the point that I was just crying and squirming futilely like the baby she wanted to turn me into. "Shh, Mommy knows this isn't what you agreed to, baby, but Mommy has always felt that you needed a more structured life and you've shown so much improvement with your behavior and attitude since we started this whole thing that she believes a fresh start overall will be just the right thing for us." she told me as she gently wiped my tears away. She set down her tablet inside the diaper bag and pulled me out of the stroller and onto her lap, cradling me in her arms and looking down on me with love in her eyes. "If you do this without a fuss, Mommy will make sure that you're the happiest baby in the whole wide world." she told me as she gently bounced me on her lap, the thickness of my diapers only allowing me to know what was happening because of the movement of the rest of my body. I looked up at her and met her gaze, her eyes were filled only with love, no resentment or malice, nothing to make me feel that this new life was designed to be a punishment or a way to humiliate me, it was simply her want in life to have me be her baby in mind as well as life. I thought about it, wondering how much of a change this whole thing would actually be for me. I thought about my nephew, completely happy and content as an infant minded adult, I thought about his parents being happy to take care of him and how content my sister was with her life in comparison to how she'd been just a year earlier. I thought of how Mommy had yet to make any outing or activity embarrassing or degrading for me like some other parents we'd seen and I thought of how much I loved her and the promise I'd made when we got married to do everything in my power to make her the happiest she could be for the rest of our lives. I also thought of losing my teeth, becoming completely incontinent, and having every bit of what made me me stripped out of my mind by a process I had no idea of how scary or painful it may be. My mind wandered to the mush in my diaper and the feeling of wetting for probably the hundredth time since we'd gotten in line hours ago. "What's it gonna be, baby?" she asked, seeing how deep in thought I was and had been. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Breast milk was amazing, but so was solid food. Diapers were fine, but mostly because of the tingles I got in my naughty parts when I used them, would that feeling be gone if I agreed? Would I always be a newborn or would I be allowed to grow back up at some point? I wanted to ask her these questions but the pacifier was so soothing and I couldn't manage to spit it out. "Ladies, gentlemen, and babies of all ages and stages, welcome to Rockabye AB's first ever Black Friday sale!" someone in charge at the store declared before I could give her my answer. I was moved back into the stroller as Mommy busied herself gathering everything up and took her position behind the stroller to push me into the store as the line began to move ahead of us and I wondered whether she would take the time to get my answer or if she'd decide for me before the crush of people bought what she wanted before she could. Maybe she would buy the things she wanted and then we could talk about it more once we got home. As we hurried into the store I began to feel sleepy again because of the blanket I was still wrapped up in and smiled at the thought that newborns did sleep a lot, and I did love a good sleep.

"Breaking news here at the top of the hour, America's favorite hero, Lady Justice has been exposed as a sexual deviant." Not true. "-the photos and videos making the rounds on the internet and news outlets around the world provide shocking proof of her disgusting behavior." None of your business. "Once named "Hero of the Decade", Lady Justice now finds herself facing irrefutable proof that she's nothing more than a common pervert." Wasn't hurting anyone. The video clip that had played several dozen times over the last hour began again, the talking heads and analysts discussing the same points over and over again as it played. Lady Justice on all fours in a hotel room, her costume puddled behind her, leaving her completely naked save for the ludicrously thick diaper taped around her waist. Her breasts were blurred for the television version, but the end result still played normally, the costumed hero arching her back and moaning loudly as the pristine whiteness of her diaper took on a more bruised fruit coloring in the seat and swelled and drooped as she defecated herself noisily. Her usual tone of confidence and commanding presence melted away as an infantile squeal emanated from her mouth and she began to whine and bawl to her "Mommy", the woman seated on the edge of the bed in the hotel room, the one with her hand between her legs working her panties off as she beckoned her messy baby over to her. The video continued, though the deeply passionate sexual activities the two proceeded to engage in never aired on television, but the internet saw it all and shared it with everyone possible, making "Naughty Baby Justice" the most viral video since some cat doing something cute had happened the previous day. Janet Kincaid, the secret Lady Justice, sat in her kitchen watching the news. Her fiery red hair was still up in messy pigtails from the night before, her overnight diaper had long since cooled and warmed several times over as she sat in disbelief, watching the career she'd built over the last twenty plus years crumble into a humiliating pile of nothingness right before her eyes. "I know this looks really bad, baby, there's two things that are positive here." her secret Mommy said as she gently rubbed the dumbstruck woman's back. Janet looked up at her, eyes puffy and red. "What could possibly be positive about this?!" she exclaimed angrily. The much younger woman took her baby girl's chin in her hand gently and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. "Watch that tone, little one, or you'll be watching the news from the corner with a very sore bottom." she cooed calmly. Janet nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Mommy." she said sheepishly. "Thank you, sweetheart." her Mommy said. "What I was going to say was you managed to keep your mask on, so you're secret identity is still a secret, and my face never showed up in the video, so no one will be able to come to me for information that could eventually lead them to learn about your secret identity." she explained. Janet pouted and slumped forward, burying her face in her arms on the countertop. "I'm a billionaire, why did I do something so stupid in a hotel?!" she wailed into the marble surface. "Oh, now Mommy's stupid, is she?" the younger woman asked teasingly. Janet's head shot back up. "This isn't a fucking joke, Klara!" she screamed. "My life, my actual life, not this fake as fuck one I keep to bankroll my real life, is over and I'd appreciate some goddamned sympathy!" she cried, her words sounding more and more like an overly cranky toddler was trapped in her body and wanted to be recognized. Klara took Janet's hand in hers and gently stroked it. "What would you like me to say, Jan, that I'm sorry for indulging in your fetish? Because I won't. You want me to apologize for being happy that I won't have to worry about you getting yourself killed because you just had to play hero? Because I won't." she said. "You're not invulnerable, Jan, you can die just as easily as anyone else and you go out and risk your life without a care in the world about what it will do to the people you leave behind in your "fake as fuck" life." she continued, her voice rising with her emotions. "You know, when we first got together I told you I would gladly do anything for you, but that was a lie, it was the only time I ever lied to you, but it was a big lie because I will not bury you because of this stupid and reckless other life you lead." she spat, her eyes brimming with tears. Janet pulled her hand from Klara's and pushed herself up and away from the counter. "You did this, didn't you?" she accused. Klara stared at her in disbelief, a look of hurt on her face. "Unbelievable." she said flatly. "I can't be here when you're like this." she said as she got up and grabbed her purse. "Call me when you get your head screwed back on." she said as she moved to the front door of the penthouse apartment. "Oh, and change your fucking diaper, it reeks like piss in here." she called out as the door closed behind her. Janet picked up the remote from the counter and heaved it at the television that was still analyzing her fall from grace, shattering the screen as she dropped to her knees and began to throw a very unflattering tantrum. ************************************************************************ After a long cry, a leaking diaper, more crying, a too hot for normal human flesh shower accompanied by that weird shower crying where the water running down your face makes it look like you're crying comically hard, and a change of clothes, Janet still wanted to hit something, to hurt someone, to make this ripping pain in her heart go away through the pummeling of others. She'd been thinking about how all of this had started, her first year as a hero, getting a little too overzealous in bringing down a deranged villain that called himself "The Hypnotist", spending the better part of the rest of that year under his power until a small group of heroes managed to thwart him and free her. She'd read his file after the dreams persisted weeks after her release, learning that his abilities to manipulate people were claimed to simply heighten desires already within a person. Learning this sent her to visit him in prison, making up a lie about her mother being a victim of his, sharing that her mother was having vivid dreams where she was once again what she'd been when under his thrall. He'd laughed at her. He'd actually thrown his head back and laughed like a stereotypical super villain. Once he'd composed himself, he'd leaned close to the bulletproof partition and whispered into the phone to her 'your mother will never escape her feelings and will only find peace once she's given herself up to her desires and accepted her destiny', and then he'd left, dying in prison a few weeks later, leaving Janet without any hope of breaking the effects on her. The dreams continued and the bedwetting started. She'd gone to the doctor and left without anything to fight, nothing was physically wrong with her. Back in her penthouse she shopped online for incontinence aids for when she was sleeping and that's when the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. She'd looked at all the simple and very clinical looking diapers, feeling a pang of disappointment at the lack of something cuter, stumbling upon adult baby diapers and feeling so overwhelmingly happy when she saw how thick and adorable they were that she didn't even notice that she was peeing until she felt the hot tickle of her stream running down her leg as she sat at the counter. Things had moved very quickly from that day, the guest room of her penthouse transforming into a fully stocked nursery, her days filled with hours playing with soft toys and using her diapers for their intended purpose, and then Klara, her assistant had shown up to have her sign some papers ahead of an acquisition of a rival company, finding her boss sitting in an oversized highchair in only a very well filled diaper with babyfood splattered across her face, chest, hair, every nearby surface in the kitchen. Janet had frozen in place, strained bananas in her fist, dripping down her arm as she stared at Klara and Klara stared at her, the silence in the spacious penthouse continuing on uninterrupted for what seemed like forever until Klara clicked her tongue and set down her things, wetting a dish towel in the sink and beginning the task of cleaning up her infantilized boss's mess. After everything had been cleaned up, Klara had gone looking for Janet's diaper supply, expecting to find a small box in a closet somewhere only to find the nursery and be so completely stunned and dumbfounded that she actually jumped when Janet started wailing loudly from the kitchen to be let out of her highchair. From that day forward their roles as Mommy and baby were cemented and shortly after their romantic relationship began to blossom. Shaking her head to clear the fog of her memories, Janet looked down the alley to the group of rough looking young men laughing and drinking while they taunted a homeless man that they'd clearly attacked. Slipping her mask down over her face she crept to the fire escape and moved silently to the ladder, triggering it to come down and riding it to the alley below where she jumped off the ladder near the men. "Alright, guys, I've had a bad day but it's gonna seem like a trip to an amusement park compared to the day you're about to have." she threatened through gritted teeth. The men stood up, knowing smiles creeping over their faces. "Yo, that's that whore baby chick, the one from the internet!" one said, slapping his buddy on the arm. The men began to laugh. The blood rushed to her face and she growled angrily as she began running toward them, diving forward and rolling, pushing herself upward with her hands mid roll and driving her boots into the chest of the largest of the three men, sending him flying backward into the group of trashcans they'd been sitting on. She felt a deep satisfaction in feeling the man crumple against the force of her blow, but then she felt a sharp blow to her leg and dropped immediately in a flash of pain and confusion. "Stupid bitch." the man that had hit her with the pipe spat before he drove his boot into her midsection. She cried out in pain as the blows rained down on her. She'd gotten distracted, she wasn't in the right mindset to be out on the streets and now she was paying the price. By the time she lost consciousness, she was mumbling apologies to "Mommy" and wishing she'd just stayed home in her nursery and given up this hard and painful life, choosing to remain her her warm and soft life with Mommy. ************************************************************************ She'd been beaten nearly to death in that alley. The men had taken turns raping her, leaving her to die with her soiled costume torn off of her. She'd crawled out to the street and collapsed on the sidewalk crying for her Mommy from her broken jaw and mouth full of shattered teeth. When she woke up days later, she was in the hospital and Klara was sleeping in the chair beside her bed. Everything hurt and her mind was slow and foggy from the drugs she was being given for her pain. The television was playing, but had been muted, and the headline at the bottom of the screen declared that "Billionaire Janet Kincaid revealed to be Lady Justice" and she knew that everything was over. She smelled the familiar scent of a messed diaper and wondered absently whether she'd done it during her time of unconsciousness or if she was now incontinent because of her injuries. She felt tears forming in her eyes and she let out a mewling whimper through her wired jaw and gave into the feelings she'd been grappling with for so long, she let herself take the final step to become what she truly was, a helpless baby and began to cry for her Mommy to change her. ************************************************************************ A year after she'd been beaten and broken, laid to rest her heroic alter ego, and been forced to sell her controlling interests in her company, Janet reflected on her life as she sat in her stroller in the park. Her bones had healed, but she'd sustained such extreme damage to her internal organs that she was now completely incontinent. The trauma she'd sustained to her head, coupled with the lingering effects of Hypnotist's powers had rendered her a nearly permanent infantile minded woman, only allowing her very fleeting moments of adulthood that were so infrequent that neither she or Mommy paid them any attention. Klara was on the bench next to the stroller with her new girlfriend, a reformed villain that had retired from her life of crime and started up a very successful private security firm. The pair was enjoying coffee together, talking about things that little Jan had no interest in anymore and couldn't really understand even if she was interested. Janet sucked on her bottle, her toothless gums sliding back and forth along the surface of the bottle's nipple top. Her eyes were feeling heavy as she nursed and looked at her Mommies, her tummy gurgling and emptying itself into her diaper without her knowledge or consent. The mentally regressed woman fell asleep with her bottle clutched in her hands and a mess in her diaper and the city bustled around her, forgetting all about Lady Justice and Janet Kincaid altogether, moving on to the next big story because there's no interest in a news story as obvious as "Baby makes a stinky, naps, and is changed by Mommy" after all. Klara looked over at her little girl and smiled. She hadn’t planned on this being the final outcome when she’d recorded the video in the hotel room and leaked it to the news outlets and internet, she just wanted to keep her baby safe and not worry about her getting hurt playing superhero, but now she was completely dependent on her for everything, a true baby for her to love and protect like a good Mommy should, and since Klara had been given power of attorney over Janet because of the baby minded woman’s inability to think and care for herself, she wanted nothing more than to take care of her sweet little baby for the rest of her life. Klara snapped a photo of her darling angel and returned her attention to her girlfriend, well, fiance as of the previous night and her ideas for the perfect flower girl dress for their little girl to wear for the wedding ceremony.

I'm trying something out, an anthology of short stories where we join our protagonist after the events that would have been the larger story. These are probably just going to be scenes and nothing too fancy. I figured Halloween might be a good place to start since magic and witches or whatever, but I don't plan on that being a common thing, so if you're anti magic maybe the next one will be better for you. I really just kind of like the idea of joining characters already in or done with whatever main event had happened and seeing what their lives are like afterward. Maybe it's a dumb idea or maybe it's a great idea, I dunno but I got the urge to write something and I did. The Next Day: Tricked and Treated The familiar pounding in my head signaling excessive consumption of alcohol woke me up, well, it brought me around to consciousness at least. I opened my eyes slowly, my lids resisting like old rusted out garage doors pleading loudly with their mechanical screeching against the disruption of their infinite slumber. The world blurred and tilted as my newly regained sight struggled to recalibrate itself after the previous night's events. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the party from the night before, the images fluttering through my mind enshrouded in a thick haze to the point that the only thing that stood out was my girlfriend. I remembered her hovering around me the whole night, being a part of everything I was doing despite our normal routine of separating and having our own fun, meeting periodically throughout the night to touch base and then coming together at the end of the night to leave. The whole thing allowed us to experience the same party completely differently and have things to share with one another that weren't already known. Thinking on our normal routine and the breaking from it for the prior night caused me to remember an argument we'd had, no, it wasn't an argument, I didn't say anything to her, it was more of a lecture, but I couldn't remember the reason for it. I could remember standing in front of her and she was talking to me, yelling at me? We weren't in the main room with everyone else, we were somewhere else, a room that was quieter, I remembered the music being muffled through the door behind me and remembered being thankful that no one outside that door could hear us, but why did I care so much that someone overheard us fighting? My vision finally came into focus and the room had found a stable axis to rest on and I sat up slowly, rubbing my throbbing temple as I propped myself up with my other hand. I sighed and worried about my vision again as the sight of pink flooded my field of view. I wasn't seeing pink elephants though, I was seeing pink everything else, bedding, walls, carpet, my shirt, everything had been drowned in Pepto and it did little to help my aching head. I sighed as I had to assume that I'd found a child's bedroom to crash in at the party and for whatever reason had changed shirts with someone, my skeleton bone bodysuit was obviously nowhere to be found amid the torrent of little girl decoration. I threw the princess sheets off myself and saw more pink in the form of the bottom of my shirt held together with buttons and stretched tightly over a massive bulge with pink plasticky material peeking out either side of the shirt. A tentative poke confirmed that I was indeed wearing a diaper, and the feeling of it led me to believe that it was less than pristine beneath the surface. The argument, or lecture, began to clear up in my mind. I remember standing in front of my girlfriend, looking down at my feet and feeling very ashamed and very sorry. She was chiding me for embarrassing her, my skeleton bodysuit in her hand, shaking at me as she yelled. I remembered seeing my underwear and the large wet spot on the front of it and then I remembered that I'd wet myself waiting outside the bathroom. She'd come from nowhere almost as soon as I'd started peeing and dragged me into the bathroom that I thought had been occupied, hence the waiting, like I was an overgrown toddler. A warmth down below brought me back to the present and I realized I was wetting the diaper I was currently wearing, no feeling other than the warm tickle on my sensitive flesh, which was followed by the sight of streams of yellow liquid coming out from beneath me, soaking into the sheet and pooling where I sat. Freaked out, I shot up from the bed, my knee banging on the short rail on the side, sending me tumbling to the floor face first. Everything was white for a brief second, and as I pushed myself up from my stomach I saw the door to my left open and as I got up onto my hands and knees I saw my girlfriend standing in the doorway with a look of concern on her face. "Baby, did you fall out of bed again? Mommy really should put you back in a proper crib, shouldn't she?" she asked rhetorically, talking to me as if I were too little to comprehend what she was saying to me. The memory of her going from being called "girlfriend" to being called "Mommy" flashed into my brain. She had thrown the skeleton bodysuit into the corner and had removed my underwear and the tub was running. I remembered thinking it was strange that she wanted me to take a bath in a house that wasn't ours while people had a party downstairs, but she was so disappointed in me for having an accident that I didn't argue with her. I remembered that fear shifting from her breaking up with me to her spanking me and then my thumb was coming up to my face, entering my mouth as I fought back tears. She was kneeling next to me now, I was still on all fours, my mind not concerning itself with standing up at the moment, but working on something else entirely. I could hear myself grunting, my hands clutching the carpet as I bore down and pushed. Her hand was stroking the top of my head and moving down the length of my body, stopping on my padded rear as she gently patted the crinkly garment beneath my button connected shirt. "Oh, is Mommy's little girl making a special present in her diaper?" she asked in a singsongy voice. I remembered her helping me out of the tub and wrapping a big, fluffy towel around me as she hugged me. The warmth of that embrace continued to calm me as the bath had, and I felt safe and loved as she dried me off and took my hand to lead me out of the bathroom, my concern about my nudity forgotten as I walked behind her with my thumb once again in my mouth. She picked up a diaper bag that was next to the bathroom door, one I hadn't remembered seeing before, and dug into it, producing a pacifier that she replaced for my thumb, continuing to lead me by the hand down the stairs to the party. I remember the people in the room moving back from us as we entered, clearing a path for us as we went to the center of the large living room and she set to pulling items from the diaper bag, the first being a pink plastic changing mat that she laid out on the floor and guided me down onto my back in the center of it. I looked up at the surrounding crowd of faces and sucked nervously on my pacifier as Mommy set to the task of getting me into my diaper so we could go home. Phones were held up and flashes went off as I was powdered and taped into a thick pink diaper with little princesses on the outside of it before I was sat up and a pink onesie was pulled over my head and unfurled down my body to be stretched over the diaper and snapped shut. "Alright, everyone, now that my little girl is dressed for bed we'll be off. Wave bye bye to everyone, sweetie." she insisted. I was noisily sucking on my pacifier and waving passively, a warm tickle in my diaper making me feel calmer and more sleepy that I had been a moment prior. By the time I was strapped into the carseat in the backseat of the car and we were at the end of the block I was so close to sleep that Mommy's words didn't even make sense to me. My task completed, my body was able to focus on moving again, but instead of standing up, I pressed my bottom against her hand and she followed me down as I sat onto it and the newly deposited contents of my diaper spread across my bottom. I smiled dumbly at her, drool running down my chin as I moved my butt forward and back slowly on her hand. "There we go." she cooed. "I was wondering when everything was finally going to hit you." she said, her doting, sweet tone replaced by a normal speaking voice. "I was worried I hadn't done the spell right when I saw your confused look when I walked in here." she told me. I was struggling to understand her, but that concern was superseded by the growling of my now empty stomach and I whimpered and started to cry as I pawed feebly at her now ample chest tucked away beneath her shirt. "I know," she said, "Mommy will give you a nice full tummy in a second, but before you're totally gone, I want you to know that all of this is for you." she told me. "I found your box of, I guess they were drafts of suicide notes, I couldn't stand reading more than one because of how badly they made me hurt for you." she explained, her eyes brimming with tears. "I've known for a while about your baby side, but I didn't want to bring it up because I didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed and I figured that once you felt comfortable enough in our relationship that you'd talk to me about it and we'd try some things and have some fun, but you didn't and I got worried because I knew you were keeping a big part of yourself from me and I couldn't understand why." She was crying in earnest now, and her hand had come out from beneath my bottom and she was hugging me to her and I was crying because she was crying and also because I was hungry and that equal partnership was beginning to become less and less equal as the more instant gratification centric baby side of me took over more and more of my thoughts. "I did this to you to save you from doing something terrible to yourself and to me. I didn't feel confident that you could keep yourself safe so I took that worry from you and now you'll be my happy baby forever and ever." she told me, her tone returning slowly to that soft motherly one she'd started with. "Now," she began as she removed her top and undid the clasps on her nursing bra, guiding me backward into the crook of her arm as she held her nipple to my lips, "be a good baby and drink all your milk and then we'll take care of that yucky diaper." she lovingly commanded. I latched on and looked up at her smiling down on me as I began to nurse, the warm, sweet liquid hitting my tongue and rolling down my throat as the world began to close in and become a warm, fuzzy cocoon of love and calm. My life was complete, and it would be forever onward.