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A Naughty Christmas Update 6-24

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Since the malware attack ate all the stories, I've finally gotten some spare time to start reposting a few. 



C.K.  Cute Kitten

"I'm not wearing this damn thing!" Reila swore under her breath as she pulled her cobalt jeggings back up. She wiggled around the tiny bathroom in her fur trimmed Ugg boots. The soft, stretchy fabric of her jeggings- the bastard love child of jeans and leggings- felt weird as it rubbed over her bare crotch and butt. Finally, the tight material settled just right on her slender frame. She tugged down her bright turquoise sweater-tunic and smoothed it in place. She turned, checking herself in the mirror above the sink. The thick, knitted wool covered her butt, hiding her freshly un-padded bottom from view. 

"Perfect. The old hag will never be able to tell." She smirked and tossed the unused purple with pink butterflies printed pull-up into the garbage, hiding it under layers of used, balled up paper towels just in case her mother decided to check the bathroom in suspicion of just such a stunt. 

Reila put her hand on the door, hesitating for a second with a nagging sense of guilt. What if her mother lifted her shirt to make sure she still had her protection on? Given the last few months, Reila wouldn't have put it past her. But in a crowded airport? No, not even her mother was that insane. She pushed the door open. 

Eight hours was a long flight. What if she fell asleep and wet herself, as she had been doing every time she dozed off? She bit her lip, tempted to go back in, fish her pull up out of the trash and put it back on. Planes had toilets. She'd just have to remember to go a lot so her stupid, malfunctioning bladder stayed empty. 

She stepped out and was immediately accosted by her mother. 

"Took you a while." Sonja stared at her daughter, pursing her red lips in displeasure. 

"I had to take a shit." Reila fired back at her mom's suspicious accusation. She crossed her arms defensively. "I'm eighteen, not two. You can trust me." 

"Yet you wear the same undergarments as a two year old and act just like one. After your recent escapades, you've lost my trust. You're doing a poor job of earning it back. Even the judge saw fit to strip you of your adult status. Need I remind you that just days after court. One more screw up and it's straight up the river for you." Sonja's eyes narrowed at the back talk as she stared Reila down. 

Reila's defiant glare gradually withered to a sulky pout under her mother's cool, firm disapproval. 

Sonja was at her wit's end with the girl. Barely an adult, yet she'd racked up a laundry list of misdemeanors and law violations long enough to do any hardened criminal proud. Just like her absent father. Sonja encouraged Reila's spunky spirit, knowing it would help her get through tough times in life. Sonja could have used a little more spunk and backbone in her own childhood. Maybe then she wouldn't have married young to a man who turned out to be a murderous loser that ended up in prison for life. 

Reila had gotten into fights in preschool and elementary school. Middle school saw her skipping school and taking up smoking. High school was full of underage drinking, unsupervised parties, and smoking pot. Reila progressed to breaking and entering , vandalizing school property for a senior prank. Even though she was not a senior. She should have been, but all that hookie and sleeping in class led to her flunking junior year. This year she should be graduating, but she was repeating her junior year instead. Then came the sex tapes on the internet. The proverbial cherry on top was her getting arrested for shop-lifting lingerie at the mall. 

The judge, being lenient with youth offenders and in the spirit of the Christmas season, gave Reila one last chance to clean up her act. He gave Sonja legal custody of her, declaring Reila unfit to run her own life Next stop for her was prison or one of those new Regression Therapy discipline camps for youth offenders designed to turn troublesome youth into moral, upright citizens. 

"There's a line of people waiting for the bathroom." Reila said sulkily, lowering her gaze to her mother's scuffed, off brand boots. Sonja, a single mother, did her best to give Reila the name brand things she liked. Right now, she just wanted her mother to stop staring at her. 

"Because you were holding it up. You'd better still have your diaper on." Sonja hissed in a loud voice then swept past for her turn in the bathroom. 

"They're pull-ups, not diapers!" Reila retorted just as loud as the door closed in her face. She was suddenly aware of eyes on her; her eyes scanned the airport crowd. Those nearby stared incredulously at her- the pretty, fashionable young lady loudly proclaiming her pull-ups were not diapers. Meeting her gaze, most on lookers looked away in embarrassment but some continued to stare. Few smirked in amusement. 

Her cheeks flamed red as Rudolph's nose and she ducked behind a nearby pillar. Why did the airport have to be so damn crowded? It was only the first week of December. Not holiday travel time, even though that's what she and her mother were doing. Her mother with the embarrassingly loud mouth. Life just loved to take a big, steamy shit on her. 

All she wanted was to have a little fun, to live her own life. She never hurt anyone. Yet the judge saw fit to turn her back into a child just for a little harmless pick-pocketing. Her mother had breathing down her throat ever since she was arrested and released. 

On top of that, her bladder had been acting up since she woke up in the hospital several months ago. She'd gotten her stomach pumped after passing out due to a cocktail of various alcoholic drinks and funny shaped pills. Maybe a line or two of cocaine, she didn't really remember. Those were the best parties- the ones she couldn't remember. Pure bliss. Now, her life was pure piss. Wet bed every f***ing night since she'd woken up in the hospital. Pissing herself during the day, too. Like when that cute cop handcuffed her. Or when she peed herself standing in front of that bastard judge. In a bizarre way, wet pants, along with her baby face, had helped convince the judge to be lenient with her. 

All these accidents were just flukes. Nerves. Stress. The doctor had said something about street drugs being laced with other shit and unpredictable side effects, but what did that stupid bitch know? Reila did NOT need diapers. Pull-ups. She'd show them all she could keep her pants dry.


"NOO! LEMME OUT! AAAHHH!" The loud, prolonged screams made Reila jerk her head in the direction of the sound. A girl around her size and age thrashed, strapped in an over-sized stroller. A special needs stroller. A five point harness securely strapped the screaming girl in place. Heavily padded, yellow baby booties covered her feet, which were strapped into the leg rests to prevent her from kicking. Matching mittens covered her hands. A pink, plastic bib hung around her neck, covering her chest. It shined with dribbles of her slobber, which also coated her chin. Her blue jumper dress was pushed up by the thick straps restraining her. Under her dress was a long sleeved, yellow onesie. The crotch snaps were open, revealing her voluminous, bulging disposable diaper. 

She slammed her mitten covered hands down on her legs, occasionally thumping off her thick diaper. The front of the once-white plastic was lumpy, soggy and yellow-tinged brown. The diaper was obviously well used. The girl had shit and pissed herself and had been left to stew in her own juices for quite a while. 

Reila stared in fascinated horror. The poor girl more resembled an over grown baby a disabled person. Her eyes zeroed in on the dirty diaper on prominent display between the girl's spread legs. An impending sense of dread washed over Reila; she felt as if she was staring at her own future. That could be her. She'd fit in that stroller. In that horrible, thick diaper full of piss and shit. Suddenly her despised pull ups were much more appealing. 

The attention of the crowd was now on the spectacle of the screaming, big baby and the woman in a neon pink, velour track suit pushing the stroller. 

"Rachel, sweetie. Shh. Mommy will get you out of that icky poo-poo diapee soon. You've been so backed up. You're just full of big poopies, yes you are!" The woman cooed loudly, but the girl only screamed more, helplessly throwing an enraged tantrum. 

The woman finally noticed all the eyes upon her. She looked around and said loudly. "Nothing to see here, folks! Just the face of severe autism!" At that, most people looked awkwardly away, yet a few continued to stare. Rachel was one of them. It was too much of a spectacle. 

The lady pushed the stroller towards the family bathroom right behind Reila, so Reila ducked behind another side of the pillar. Hiding so the woman would not see her. The stroller and screeching, red-faced big baby in it suddenly stopped besides the pillar. The lady bent down, digging through a yellow diaper bag with carousel horses on it. 

"Rachie. Shhh. It's okay, sweetie-baby. Your tum-tums must really be bothering you. Such a constipated baby. I guess that suppository didn't get all the poopies out of you. An enema will get the rest out and you'll feel all better!." The woman cooed as she fished around the diaper bag. 

Reila peeked out at the woman, her neon pink tush up in the air for all to see. She ducked back behind the pillar and peeked around the other side at the girl in the stroller. Puffy, red rimmed eyes in a snot-covered, red face stared pleadingly back at her. 

"Help! Please! She's crazy! I'm not autistic! I'm normal! She turned me into a big baby! Help! My stepmom's evil! Call 911! Call the cops! You have to help me!" The girl whispered frantically. Her wild eyes bore into Reila's. 

Reila stared in shocked horror. She did not know what to make of the situation. Surely there had to be something wrong with the girl. Who in the hell would turn a normal girl into a big baby and humiliate her in public like that? Suddenly, a warm, wet spurt spread along her bare crotch. 

Reila's eyes widened and she forgot all about the girl. How? She just went potty! Pee! Peed on the potty like a big girl. Went to the bathroom to urinate like an adult. She was an adult. With a wet crotch. 

"Here we go!" Rachel's stepmother beamed as she stood up, holding the enema box up like a trophy. Rachel whimpered helplessly, her body sagging into the stroller cushions in defeat and dread of what was to come. 

Before Reila could hide, she found the smiling lady suddenly smiling down at her. She wondered if the woman had overheard her daughter pleading for help. "Thank you for entertaining my silly baby. Is your mommy here, little girl? Does she know you had a little accident? I saw pee-pee stains on your pants." 

Reila's face paled. Didn't her long sweater cover her crotch? But the woman had been kneeling down. And she knew Reila had been spying on her. She was too shocked to even register how the woman was talking down to her. 

"Oh, don't worry, dearie. Only a mommy used to spotting leaky diapees would notice. Your pants are dark, it hides it well. Now, did you take your diapee off? Or did your mommy run out? I've done that before." 

Reila was shell shocked. Not even Sonja talked down to her like that. Did this deranged woman just assume Reila was retarded because she stood there in wet pants, staring at the woman's freakshow daughter and the shitsack of a diaper on prominent display?

Reila's face flushed red as Rachel's, and she opened her mouth to give this crazy bitch a piece of her mind. "I'm not a little girl, you daffy old-"

"Reila! What's going on?" Sonja cut her off before she could even get started. Sonja stormed over from the bathroom, assuming her daughter was causing trouble again. She paused, blinking in surprise at the large diapered girl in the stroller. Just what was going on? 

"Oh, you must be this little girl's mommy. She was so helpful, entertaining my autistic baby while I got a new diapee out. The girls were playing hide and seek! Oh, and your little girl had a little accident in her pants!" The woman added in a loud whisper. 

Sonja stared in disbelief and confusion. No one ever complimented Reila's behavior. "I-um- Reila…was…helpful?"

Just then, Rachel got her second wind. She brought her mitten covered hands up then slammed them down angrily on the huge bulge of her dirty diaper. She howled and thrashed once more. Causing people to stare once again, including Sonja and Reila. 

"Rachie, shush, baby." The woman looked at Sonja. "I got to change Rachie's diapee- but here. Take these, I insist. Your little girl needs a new diaper, and it's always good to have an enema on hand. Us moms of autistics got to stick together, you know! Toodles! Have a blessed day!" The woman waved and disappeared with the screaming Rachel into the family restroom. 








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Sonja turned to Reila with a questioning look on her face. 

Reila did not want to have any conversation regarding the weird woman, her wet pants, or her missing pull up. Which she needed to replace before mom recovered her wits and started bitching. "GOTTA PEE!" She shouted, not caring who overheard as she darted for the ladies room in a mad dash, cutting in the line. Women jumped out of her way before she bowled them over, then shot Sonja scathing looks for her daughter's behavior. 

Stalls were occupied, but luckily no one was in the outer part, by the sinks, hand dryers, paper towel dispensers and trashcan. Reila's hands shook as she desperately dug through the trash. She dug past crumpled paper towels and a few cardboard coffee cups to the very bottom. Her knees trembled with relief as her reaching fingers brushed over the cloth-like cover of her pull up. Sonja hadn't found it. The wet spot was growing cold between her slim thighs, destroying her short lived triumph at getting something over on her mother. 

A toilet flushed then the stall clanged open and a lady stepped out. She barely even glanced at Reila as she went straight to the sink to wash her hands. Reila blushed, tucking the pull up under her sweater and slinking into the empty stall before someone else could get in. She pulled her pants down and knelt, hovering her bare bottom over the germ-infested public toilet seat. No pee came out. She didn't have to go. They why had she spurted in her pants? 

Reila scowled and examined the damage to her pants. She sniffed- it didn't smell too bad; only faintly of urine. Drinking water was good for more than just staying slim, trim and beautiful as opposed to a soda-guzzling, disgusting porker. It also diluted her urine, so her pee didn't smell that bad. Standing up, Reila pulled off a boot and jeggings off one foot. She was not putting one sock covered foot on an undoubtedly germ covered public restroom floor. She leaned against the metal stall wall for balance, slid her sock covered foot through the leg hole of the pull up, back into her pants and boot, then did the same thing on the other. The pull up was thicker than panties. She could feel it pressing against her, squished from the jeans. She ran her hand over her pert butt; she loved it when guys checked her out. She could feel the pull-up though she could barely see it. 

She was tempted to rip it back off again. But after that little pee spurt, she was not taking any chances. Not that she NEEDED the pull up. She was going to wear it just in case. Keep it dry and show her mom. She was an adult. The pull-up did protect her from feeling the cold wet spot on her crotch. 

"Reila! Let's go! We need to get to the gate! they're boarding now!" Sonja's voice echoed off of the small bathroom. 

Reila's face went red in embarrassment. She tugged on her jeggings one last time, trying to get them comfortable over the pull up's padding. 

"Reila!" Sonja shouted again, making Reila wince. 

"Coming!" She hollered back in annoyance. The stall door banged open as she dashed out. Her jeggings were not fully fixed and her sweater tunic flipped up; the top band of her purple pull up was visible. The women in the restroom stared at her, gazes fixing on the pull up. 

"She's a little old for diapers, isn't she?" One lady muttered to another; Reila didn't hear her. 

"Probably a medical condition. Maybe she's special needs? Her mother was shouting for her, after all." The other lady answered back. 

Soon as Reila set foot outside the bathroom, with women in line staring at them from Sonja's shouting, Sonja started walking to the gate. She didn't care who was staring- they needed to get to the boarding gate right now. Reila rushed after her mother, not having time to even notice the pull-up band she was showing to the world. She huffed, catching up to Sonja's side. 

"That weird lady said you had an accident."

"No. I had to piss again. Besides, she's batshit crazy." Reila panted, tugging at her jeggings. 

"Language. I can see how dealing with a difficult daughter makes a mother lose it. She's not crazy, she's frazzled." 

"Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes. 

"I found your diaper in the trash. I was coming out to make you go get it." 

Reila almost stumbled, her stride thrown off in surprise. "I did not! I have it on right now!" She denied. 

"You rushed back in to fish it out and put it back on. I also see a wet spot on your pants that's not from a diaper leak." 

"IT'S A PULL-UP!" Reila howled, temper flaring. Her mother was so fucking stupid. "IT'S A FUCKING PULL-UP, NOT A GOD DAMN DIAPER!" She howled in frustration. People stared, but mother and daughter were too intent on each other. 

Sonja slammed to a halt. "You know better than to swear. Don't you talk back to me like that! Maybe you need this diaper if I can't even trust you to keep your pull up on and your pants dry! Or maybe that lady was right, and you're miserable and fussy because you need an enema! " She pulled the huge, crinkly white rectangle out of the purse she'd hastily stuffed it in, brandishing it in Reila's face. 

Reila's entire face flushed, mouth going slack in horror. How dare she pull that out! And everyone would know it's hers! She glanced around, suddenly aware of everyone staring at the strange spectacle. She paled, anger draining, replaced by horrified embarrassment. "Put that away." She ordered hoarsely, glaring at her mother. 

"Let's go." Sonja snarled, shoving the diaper back into her purse with a loud crinkle. She stormed off. Reila paused, glaring mutinously at her mother's back, before following at distance to keep as much space as possible between them. She tugged at her pants. One side slid further up, but the other side slid down, exposing more of the pull up. Her tunic stayed flipped up, giving the entire airport a good view of an eighteen year old in a diaper. Err, pull up.

Sonja leaned into the cushiony seat and turned another page of her thriftstore paperback romance, then took a sip of her complimentary cinnamon sprinkled eggnog latte with a liberal helping of rum. If this was business class, she could not imagine what first was like. Already she felt like a spoiled princess or movie star. This was a whole different world from the cattle cars of economy. 

She glanced out the small window at the puffy clouds floating by. Reila sulked in her spacious seat, arms crossed, staring out the window and sticking her lower lip out like she'd always done since she was two. She wasn't appreciating the creature comforts at all. Her sweater covered her crotch, so Sonja couldn't see if the wet pee spot had dried. 

They'd been in the air for several hours now, so she assumed it did. She wondered if Reila's pull-up was dry, but she doubted it. Reila had only gone to the bathroom three times, and one of those did not count because she'd come back grumbling about the bathroom being occupied forever. She hadn't gone since. Any attempts to encourage her were met with bitching about having to climb over the fat slob in a suit at the end of the aisle. Sonja ended up reprimanding Reila, ordering her to apologize to the older man with the scruffy white beard, Reila telling her to fuck off, and Sonja apologizing to the man when Reila refused. 

What was she to do about that girl? Spank her? Many times, the idea was tempting but Sonja had never raised a hand to her in all her years. She grounded Reila, took way toys and electronics, lectured and hollered, but drew the line at physical discipline. Some child psychologists advocated it, others said even a light, gentle swat could emotionally scar a child for life. She knew there was a big difference between discipline and corporal punishment, but she feared giving in to the temptation of putting Reila over her knee. 
Sonja's own mother had occasionally spanked her, and Sonja's grandmother had been a devout believer of 'spare the rod, spoil the child.'. Sonja felt like she'd screwed up somewhere with Reila. Maybe she'd spoiled her? Too soft? Too hard? She didn't know; she'd never been very good at the motherhood thing. She had Reila young- too young, when she was little more than a child herself, and not ready for parenting.

"It was very generous of Great Grandma Uschi to pay for our tickets." Sonja leaned over, speaking low so she wouldn't disturb the other passengers. 

Reila glanced sideways at her mother, barely turning her head. "Uschi? What kind of fucked up name is that?"

"Watch your mouth. It's an old, traditional name. A diminutive of Ursula." 

"Hah! Like the sea witch from The Little Mermaid? So what, the old bat has tentacles or some shit?" Reila laughed mockingly. 

Sonja frowned. A name that carried tradition, culture, and meaning. A fine, old, respectable name. Not a trendy moniker from a song title just because the vocalist was hot. A pang of regret shot through Sonja. She'd been too damn young to be a mother. "That's disrespectful. Uschi is a fine name. The family wanted me to name you after her, you know. "

"Thank God you didn't." Reila rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Why are you dragging me to this backwoods shithole anyway? Is the old fossil on her deathbed or something?" She was far from pleased about this trip. She'd never even met the old bat. Her own grandmother and great-grandmother were rotting in their coffins. How was great-great Grandma Uschi, a relic from the stone age, still alive? Maybe she was a vampire? Reila snorted in quiet laughter at her musings. 

"We're going because she's family. You do for family- you should know that by now. I've tried teaching you. And it's the holidays. She asked us to come. This is the perfect time to get in touch with our family roots. She lives in a lovely little town. You'll love it. The houses of southern Germany are so pretty. And you're surrounded by snowy Alps. The last time I was there, I was just a little girl. I wonder how much has changed…" Sonja sighed, talking more to herself. 

Great grandma Uschi's invitation was more of a summons, and Sonja had no mind to refuse. This invitation had been a lifeline. Sonja recently had been laid off from her job, due to budget cuts and downsizing. Her savings had disappeared quite rapidly, dwindling down to nearly nothing. If it wasn't for great grandma Uschi, they wouldn't be having much of a Christmas at all.

"Whatever." Reila turned back to the window, barely listening to her mother's sentimental blather. She snagged her pop can, swigging the bubbly Mountain Dew. It was her sixth one already; she was bored and she had to conserve her iphone's battery. Her bladder twinged, causing her to squirm. The dry padding of her pull-up brushed over her sensitive mound, teasing her. 

She had to pee, for over an hour now. If she got up to go, she'd just get into another fight with her mother over the fat fool blocking the aisle. People that fat should be required to buy an entire row of seats so their lard would not inconvenience anyone else, Reila thought sourly. She needed to keep her damn pull up clean to prove to her mother she did not need them. So her only option was to hold it until landing. 

Fuck saving the battery; she was desperate. Reila dug out her earbuds and iphone from her carry on as Sonja became lost once more in her trashy romance. 

Two hours later, Reila squirmed in agony. Rap music blared in her ears, but it didn't even register in her brain. Her bladder spasmed painfully, ready to burst. She glared at her mother's empty seat and the snoring fat man past that. The tub of lard reclined in his seat, taking up even more room. She assumed her mom was at the bathroom. 

Reila wanted to kick the fat man, tell him to wake the fuck up and get the hell out of her way, then storm to the bathroom and pound on the door, barge her way to the toilet. She needed to piss, bad. She didn't want another row with her annoying, bitchy mother or another fight with the fat man just to get to the fucking toilet. 

She did have a pull-up on. She bit her lip. She wanted to keep it dry…but if she wet just a little, it would help her bladder feel better….And she could always sneak a new pull up out of her mother's carry on. Hide the pull up under her sweater, and go change in the bathroom. She could trick her mother into believing she'd kept herself dry. Yes, that was her best bet. 

Reila took a deep breath, held it, and concentrated on forcing her bladder to let loose, just a little. The pee would not come. Her bladder twitched but her muscles welded shut. She breathed out, shifting around and trying to force it. Nothing. She pissed herself accidentally all the time, but the one time she willingly wanted to use her pull up, her stupid bladder rebelled. Fucking figured. 

She closed her eyes, struggling to force some urine out. She was going to pee in this fucking pull up, damn it! She grunted a little, but her bladder muscles remained tight and uncooperative. 


On her way back to her seat, Sonja could not help but overhear a conversation between a girl who looked around Reila's age and the girl's mother. 

"Mom, this pull-up feels gross. It's all cold and clammy. Are you sure you don't have another one in your purse? Maybe…maybe a pad or something?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You're wearing the only pull up we have. Our carry-ons were too big, so they sent them to luggage." 

"B-but what if I have another accident?"

Sonja's heart twisted. Too often had she been in the mother's shoes. Their dilemma wasn't any of her business, but she had two of Reila's pull ups in her carry on. Indecisively, she looked at the miserable girl shifting around uncomfortably in her seat. She looked around Reila's size; the pull ups should fit…

"Yes?" The girl's mother noticed Sonja staring. The girl blushed and looked down, tugging at her soft, fuzzy pink skirt as if trying to hide her already hidden pull up. 

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help overhear. My daughter has …similar problems. I have some pull ups in my carry on if you'd like…your daughter looks about the same size as mine…" She trailed off awkwardly. 

The sharp look on the mother's face softened into one of cautious hope, both relieved and disbelieving in this strange coincidence. Someone overheard them talking about pull-ups, and that person just happens to have pull-ups of the correct size? "….Are….you sure? Doesn't your daughter need them?"

"She's fine. Our flight's almost over and she's managed to keep dry so far." Sonja peered down at the blonde girl, whose gaze was firmly locked on her purple boots. Her pink skirt had ridden up. Her cream woolen leggings bulged out slightly around her exposed crotch, revealing the puffy, soggy, saggy pull up. Her cheeks blazed in bright apple embarrassment. She wriggled around, tugging her skirt back down, clutching the hem with her fists. 

"Please…ma'am…" The girl mumbled softly. Hope had won out over her embarrassment. "We have a connecting flight to catch. I…I sometimes fall asleep and..and…" And wet herself. One more wetting, and her saturated pull up would leak. Their carryons would be transferred by airport staff along with the rest of their luggage. 

"That settles it. I simply must insist. My daughter's been in the same boat, so let me help. In the spirit of the upcoming holidays." Sonja finished with an awkwardly forced smile. 

The girl's mother hesitated a second longer before nodding, seeing no other option. 

Sonja wished Reila could be as polite as the blonde girl. Sonja went back to her seat, gingerly climbing over the dozing large man just enough to drag her carry on out from under her seat. Reila slumped against the window, eyes squeezed shut. Sonja thought she was asleep. She'd told her daughter to pack some pull ups in her carry on, and Sonja had packed a few extras in her own in case Reila didn't listen. If Reila, as per usual, did not listen, then….well, lesson learned the hard way. 

Sonja made her way back to the mom and blonde girl. "Here. There's pull ups in here…" She held the carry on open so the mother could pull the pull ups out without showing all and sundry what she was removing. 

The girl eyed the purple pull ups her mother pulled out, then her eyes widened when she saw the thick, white rectangle. "Th-that's h-huge." She mumbled, horrified by the thickness. 

Her mother eyed the diaper, too. "Looks very absorbent. We have another long flight ahead, then a bus to catch…" 

"M-mom!" The girl whispered, her horror growing, her face paling under her embarrassed blush. 

"You can take whichever you like. My daughter has extra diapers in her own carry on." Sonja generously reassured them. 

"I'll go to the bathroom even more, and I won't drink much!" The girl shivered, her wide eyes fixated on the white, plastic, puffy, padded doom.

The mother hesitated, then took just the pull ups. "Thank you so much. And thank your daughter. These are a little big, but they'll do just fine. It's a very strange coincidence. But thank you." The mother elbowed her daughter, who flushed even redder and looked down at her toes again. The tips of her purple boots smacked together as she tugged at her pink skirt again. 

"Th-thank you, ma'am." She whispered, fidgeting bashfully. 

"You're welcome. I suppose it is a little weird, but I was just in the right place at the right time. " Sonja waved off their thanks with a gentle smile then bailed back to her own seat, feeling as awkward about the whole thing as the family had looked. She was tired of bailing her own ungrateful daughter out of trouble. This polite girl was more deserving of the diapers. If Reila peed herself and wasn't prepared…well, that was her own problem. Maybe some tough love would teach Reila to be prepared or grateful for help next time. 


Reila could not take it anymore. Stupid bladder. She was just going to have to climb over the alpine mountain of lard and risk a confrontation with her loud mouthed harpy of a mother. She stood up and tried to squeeze past the reclining fat man. She pressed into the seat in front of her, earning a harsh, "Hey! Quit pushing my seat you little brat!" from the man seated in front. 

"Bite me!" Reila snapped back, pushing the seat even harder. 

"Damn brat!" The man waited a few seconds, and slammed the seat back. Reila wobbled, knocked off balance. Her arms pinwheeled but she was tipped too far forward to catch herself; she fell, right onto the man's ample belly. "OOF!" She grunted. Warmth suddenly spurted over her crotch in a steady flow upon impact, stealing the tirade of insults she wanted to hurl at the fat man and the bastard up front. The warm, wet flood ran down her legs in a waterfall, overflowing the pathetically thin padding of her pull up. It instantly swelled, doing little to stop the damage of a full-bladder-flood. 

She froze in horror, staring wide-eyed. She stared with baited breath. The snoring man never woke, never even stirred. Slowly, with stiff, jerky movements, she stood up. Her pee was everywhere. On the bariatric, sleeping man. On her pants, boots, socks. Her soaked leggings stuck to her swollen pull-up. The thin, swollen padding was a visible lump on her soaked crotch. Her leggings clung, saturated from the waterfall of urine. Reila curled her toes; her socks were wet and the fur lining of her expensive Uggs squished. A yellow puddle pooled at her feet. The sleeping man's pants and abundant belly were wet where she'd landed on him. 

Not only had she peed herself- just like in class, in jail, in court- but now she'd pissed on a stranger! A stranger she had previously ridiculed. Reila remained frozen, brain unable to process what she'd just done. Her thoughts shut down; all she could do was stand and stare. 

"Reila! What have you done?" Sonja came back to her seat, halting at the unexpected sight of daughter and the huge wet spots on the sleeping man, on Reila's pants, and the puddle at her feet. 

Reila cringed. "It's not what you- that asshole in front! He pushed me!" Said asshole was suspiciously quiet, vindictively enjoying the little show Reila and her mother were putting on. His muffled snickers floated back to make Reila's ears burn. "He's an asshole! It's all his fault!" 

Sonja glanced briefly at the man peacefully playing mahjong on his tablet. The man met her questioning gaze and just shook his head then went back to his game. Most of the other passengers covertly stared, pretending to be preoccupied but secretly eavesdropping. 

Sonja's eyes snapped back to her wet, cowering daughter. "You peed your pants! Right through your diaper! I've been telling you to go to the bathroom, but you wouldn't listen! Now look what you've done!" 

At her angry voice, the large man jerked, waking with a loud snort. "I say, what's the racket?" He blinked bleary eyes, just becoming vaguely aware of his wet pants. "Did I spill something? Did my diaper leak?" As the seconds ticked by, he woke up more fully, gradually becoming aware of what was going on around him. Reila and her wet pants standing practically on top of him. In a yellow puddle. He stared at Reila's wet crotch in horrified shock. "No. You did. You peed yourself. You peed on me!!" His voice rose as he pieced the puzzling pieces together. His tone was incredulous. 

Sonja's face paled in humiliation at the stranger's accusation. An odd hush fell over the onlookers, but she did not notice. She switched gears from angry at having to deal with Reila's mess to excusing Reila's poor behavior. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I'll pay for the dry cleaning. It was an accident. My daughter, she's…she's incontinent. Recently. We've been trying different diapers and I'm so sorry. I'll pay for it, I really will." 

"Lady, I'm appalled." The man banged his beefy fist down on his armrest. "That girl has been the most obnoxious brad this entire flight and that's including the screaming two year olds! I've been biting my tongue, but she needs popped a good one!" He glowered up at Sonja, as if blaming her for Reila's bad behavior. 

Sonja's back stiffened. "Sir, I've apologized. I offered to pay for your clothes. There's no need to verbally attack me or my daughter. As I just told you, it was an accident. She's…she's…" Her mind reached for an excuse. She remembered the lady in neon pink velour with the screaming daughter in the huge stroller. "Special needs. Autism. She pees herself. A lot. She's….she's …incontinent! And autistic!" 

"I'm not buying that bullshit excuse. I'm incontinent myself. I have on a brief myself right now. While I'm not pleased with this situation, I understand better than most. But that has nothing to do with her horrible attitude. It's not why I'm pissed off. Lady, this is the village calling to say your girl is a rotten monster and you've done a piss poor job raising her." 

Reila shifted awkwardly. The wet padding squished from her damp jeans, urine squeezing out against her crotch. She winced. The wet patches were growing cold. Her pee soaked boots splashed and squished in her pee puddle. She wanted to die. To jump out the window. Her cheeks flamed. She did not listen to what the man or her mother said; her thoughts were consumed with her own turbulent, humiliating feelings. She peeked out through her stylishly frayed bangs. Other passengers stared at the loud, obnoxious fat man and her equally obnoxious mother. At all the wet spots. At her. She winced, closing her eyes tight. 
"Madam. Sir. Please allow us to assist." Two stewardesses in curve hugging, bright blue uniforms and shiny brass buttons descended. One was armed with a mop and bucket; the other held towels, wet wipes, and plastic garbage bags. 

"Perhaps madam would like to take her daughter to the restroom and clean up?" One stewardess politely but firmly order-suggested to Sonja. 

Sonja bit down on her her lip. She didn't want to deal with any of this. After eighteen years of bullshit, she was just about done. She wanted to throw her hands up and say fuck it. Let Reila deal with her own problems. She'd tried that, though- and it had landed Reila right in jail and her stuck posting bail that sucked up most of her savings. Any more fighting or arguments on this tin can would result in an emergency landing and them getting kicked off. Pissed off passengers and crew. Possible police interrogation. 

She did not want to explain any of this to her great grandmother. Authority figures she was used to dealing with. Uschi was a different story. The last time Sonja had seen her, Sonja was just a small girl. Perhaps that childhood fear of an imposing authority figure still lingered deep in her psyche. If they did get kicked off this flight, Sonja could not afford any other plane tickets. This was their one chance only trip.

Sonja forced a tight, strained smile. "Yes, thank you." She knew the stewards had been sent to diffuse the situation. Their polite suggestions were thinly veiled commands. "Reila, come." She ordered sternly, expecting an argument. But Reila followed her quietly, head down as if afraid to look at anyone. Her pee soaked boots squished as she walked, leaving wet footprints behind. Sonja winced- those had been expensive. More expensive than she'd been able to afford, but she'd bought them anyway. No way she'd be able to replace them, and Reila would surely bitch about that, and it would just be another fight between them. 

"Sir, after you've cleaned up, the captain insists upon upgrading you to first class. We have an open seat left from a last minute cancelation. Would you prefer steak or lobster for your meal?" The large man took the offered bag, towel and wipes. The offer of a first class seat- well away from the pissing, screaming brat- cooled his ire off. "Yes. Lobster. Thank you." He added as an afterthought. He wiped at the pee stains with the moist towelette wipes, grabbed his carryon from under his chair. He was glad he packed a spare set of clothes for just in case his diaper leaked. He never imagined he'd get pissed on by a stranger.

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Reila could not believe she'd pissed on a stranger. She was NEVER coming out of the bathroom. "I'm NOT wearing that damn diaper, either!" She shouted to the closed bathroom door. She had no doubt her mother stood just on the other side of it, waiting with a verbal tirade. Reila rolled her eyes at the mere thought, then huffed at the huge, thick white rectangle that sat on top of the closed toilet lid. Maybe she could flush it down?

Her pee-soaked socks, pants, and boots sat on the sink edge, right under the running hand dryer. Hopefully once they dried, the materials would not smell too bad. 

That horrid diaper was her only option. She could go commando…but what if she peed again? She had no pants…but she could dry hers under the hand dryer. It would still smell like pee. But it was better than going naked, wasn't it? One round of humiliation was enough. She just needed to get a handle on the situation. Get her bearings and ground herself. Then she would get control of her wayward bladder. She wanted a pull-up, but the stupid bitch gave her pull-ups away to another pants pisser. 

Reila growled at the very thought. She had almost screamed at her mother until two more flight attendants had come over, causing her to storm into the bathroom and lock the door behind her. Not that her last pull-up had done any good. Maybe she was lucky to have the diaper? It looked thick enough to handle a flood or two….

"The fuck am I thinking?" Reila stomped her foot as if it squash her thoughts. But the diaper was the only smart choice…. She glared at the white, folded up rectangle for several long moments. The dryer quit running. She slammed her palm down on the metal button and it started loudly humming once more. 

"Reila, did you get your diaper on yet?" Sonja's voice called through the door. 

Reila glared at the door and refused to answer. She bit back the urge to kick the door, curse at Sonja. She angrily snatched up the diaper, flicking it open with a sharp snap of her wrist. It unfurled with a loud crinkle to reveal a luxuriously soft inside. She grimaced then spent another several agonizing minutes recalling how the nurse in the hospital after her alcohol and drug binge taught her how to change an incontinence brief just before she was discharged. Reila hadn't paid much attention at the time. She had not cared, and had been still in the throws of de-tox. 

"Reila?" A pause, then, when she still did not reply, "Reila. Answer me. Do you need help with your diaper?"

She would not need help if Sonja had not given her pull-ups away. She spread the diaper out against the wall. 

"Reila, answer me now, damn it. Don't play these childish games. I need to know if you're diapers on properly so you don't pee everywhere again." 

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Reila snarled in exasperation. 

Sonja pounded on the door. "Reila! Don't you dare talk back to me like that! I'm your mother! You're making a big scene and the pilot is ready to call an emergency landing!" She threatened. 

Reila was getting too wound up to care. "I need to concentrate. The stupid bitch nurse in the hospital showed me. So leave me alone. I don't need a damn diaper." 

"The man you peed all over, and the puddle the attendants had to clean up say otherwise." Sonja's tone was strained and clipped. 

Reila jerked her head away, biting her lip. She had no argument against that. Maybe she really did need a diaper? It was the only thing she had, anyway. "Whatever…" she muttered.

Silence followed. Sonja didn't answer. Switching tactics; trying to make her feel guilty. Make her say something. But that always backfired. Reila liked her mother quiet- not lecturing her or harping. She turned her attention to the diaper, placing her butt against the padding up against the wall. The diaper fell down to the floor with a loud crinkle; her butt hit the cold wall. She cringed. "Fuck it!"

This time she held the diaper by its unfolded tape tabs, pressing the back of the diaper against her butt. She moved it up and down. "Where the hell does this damn thing go, anyway?" The damn diaper was so big it was confusing what went where. Tapes went in the back; that much, she new for certain. She vaguely recalled the nurse mentioning something about absorbent padding on the butt. "Whatever." She gave up, squishing the diaper and her butt against the wall. The front of the padded monstrosity dangled down, almost touching the floor. 

At least the stupid diaper stayed in place this time. She kept her bottom firmly pressed to the wall, then bent from the waist, reaching down and yanked the diaper front up. She had to spread her legs to accommodate the thick, bulky crotch. The front came up too high on her stomach, much higher than the back. 

When the nurse had diapered her for discharge from the hospital, she'd said some shit about the back being higher. Or was it supposed to be even? Reila shrugged, tugging the back up so it was higher than the front by a few inches. Whatever, the fucking thing was on. Not like she was gonna piss in it. She tugged so the fat fucker was snug against her crotch. The thick padding forced her legs further apart. She slid down the wall, making the padding pull even more snug. She splayed one hand over the crinkly, slippery smooth plastic front to hold it in place. Her other hand tugged a sticky tape open. She yanked the wing tab around her hip, consequently making it snug as she attached it haphazardly to the front panel, then did the same with the second, lower tape. She switched hands and did the same on the other side, engulfing herself in the thick padding. 

She ran her hands over the smooth, slippery plastic, unable to feel her crotch and butt through the bulk. She shuddered. No way in hell was she going out like this. She was just going to stay in the fucking bathroom the rest of the flight. 

The dryer clicked off. Her jeggings were dry, and so were her socks. But her boots were still damp. She took an experimental step forward. The jumbo padded bulk of a crotch forced her legs into a cowboy waddle. The monstrosity was as noisy as it was thick. She rustled and crinkled like an army of angry plastic bags as she waddled the few steps over to the sink. She sniffed at her cloths then recoiled, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Everything reeked like piss. 

"Fuck. I can't wear this shit. Fuck my life. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!" She slammed a fist down on the sink." 

"Reila!" A knock on the door. Reila cringed, her diaper crinkling. 

"Shut up! I've got the damn diaper on! Leave me the hell alone!" She shouted hoarsely, feeling the tension in her body snapping tight and strained as her mom's voice. 

She had nothing else to wear. Sonja had told her to pack extra clothes in her carry on. She'd ignored her. Her mother should have had extra clothes for her instead. That was her job, wasn't it? Fucking stupid cunt…

Reila slammed her palm on the dryer, starting it up again. She tugged down the hem of her long sweater dress, which thankfully had miraculously survived the carnage of her bladder. She'd worn dresses and skirts shorter than the tunic…..maybe she could wear it as a short dress? There was no full length mirror in the bathroom; she turned and twisted and tugged on the sweater. It had easily hidden the slight bulge of her pull-up. It should hide the diaper, too. Right? She ran her hands over the thick padding and groaned. The sweater covered her ass, but there would be no hiding the bulge. The thick, knitted Aran wool could not hide the shape of her diaper, merely cover the white plastic from sight. It did nothing for the horrible noise. And she was stuck with pee-smelling boots and bare legs in the winter. 

"I'm screwed. Thanks, you stupid cunt." Reila cursed her mother under her breath. If only the bitch never gave away her pull-ups… Her eyes welled with frustrated, angry tears that she angrily wiped away. 

"Well, fancy meeting you here, honey! Such a small world! But the Lord knew what he was doing, putting both of us on the same flight. I couldn't help but overhear. Took me a while to get up here from coach, and I had to convince one of these dear attendants to watch my Rachel sweetie-pie, but now I'm here to help, Lord willing!" 

Reila froze in horror. Just when she thought things could not get any worse. She knew that high-pitched voice, could picture that tacky neon pink velour suit in her head. Rachel's mother. The one who gave her this horrible diaper in the first place! Indirectly, the reason she no longer had a pull-up.


Sonja stared at the closed, locked bathroom door. She felt like she should barge in there and shove a bar of soap in Reila's mouth. But the parenting books she'd read said physical punishment did not correct a child's bad behavior, did not help them understand what they did was wrong nor teach them why it was wrong. All physical punishment did was teach a child that if they did that thing again, they would be in pain. Children needed patience and understanding. She was supposed to reason with her daughter. Eighteen years of reasoning and explaining and talking had not worked. So now what? Sonja sighed, tired and wanting another strong drink .

She saw the woman before she heard her. Neon pink velour attracted her gaze like a glowing beacon, the color almost more attention grabbing than the screaming, diapered girl in the adult-sized stroller had been. "Huh? Oh, you're the lady with the stroller girl. You gave me a diaper for Reila." Her tone was bewildered and defeated all at once. 

"Emma Jean, sweetie. We didn't get to exchange names last time. Pleasure to meet you." Rachel's mother smiled. 

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Visiting my husband's cousin. She lives in Munich. She's been having troubles with her little boy and his tantrums. Puberty seems to bring out the worst in them. All those hormones, you know. With him, it's real bad. Since I've worked wonders with my special Rachie- not that I like to brag, dearie. It's all God's work, I'm just the instrument- my in-laws wanted me to come and help the boy for a bit. Teach them the same techniques I used on Rachie. I just couldn't say no.They're family, and it is the season of giving. I'm here right now because I heard all the commotion and came to help."

Emma Jean practically radiated calm and confidence. A neon pink sun to warm Sonja's wintery cold depression. Sonja forced a weak smile. "Thank you, but we're okay. I've got everything under control. It's fine." 

Emma Jean brusquely brushed aside Sonja's feeble protest with a sunny smile. "The spirit inside me insists. You look like an overstressed mother, ready to fall apart. My heart went out to you the moment I saw you in the airport. I was in your shoes once, when my poor Rachie was undiagnosed. She swore, she bit, she peed everywhere. She ripped her diapers off. She once took her diaper off at an amusement park. She'd been so fussy that day, so I gave her an emema and she exploded all over a carousel horse. I didn't know what to do. But the Lord provides and works miracles. A kind stranger gave me a hand up and taught me a few things. So, honey, what do you say? Let me give you a hand up?"

Rachel waddled and crinkled to the door, listening with bated breath. What the hell was that psycho up to? Didn't she have to care for her overgrown baby? 

"Alright." Sonja agreed, sounding like she'd just been offered salvation. Let Reila be someone else's problem for a bit. 

There was a knock on the bathroom door. Reila scowled, stepping back awkwardly with a loud crinkle. "Riley, sweetie, please open the door. I've got some of Rachel's extra clothes you can wear." 

For one golden moment, hope shined. Reila was tempted at the mention of clothes. Clean clothes that did not smell like pee. Clothes that would hide her diaper. Rachel, the over grown baby. Big baby clothes. "It's Reila, not Riley. Fuck off, you nosy bitch." 

"Reila! Watch your mouth! That's disrespectful. Apologize immediately! Emma Jean, I'm so sorry." Sonja's voice was angry and strained, full of tension. Reila was all to used to it; she just rolled her eyes. 

"Shush, dearie. She can't help herself. You have to be a strong mommy and take control no matter how fussy they get. Stay calm, follow your path. No matter what, you must always follow through so they know who is in charge. Special needs babies need extra attention." 

Emma Jean cleared her throat and spoke softer yet firmer. "Riley-honey, you either open this door right now and let your mommy check your diapee, or this plane will make an emergency landing at the nearest hospital because some autistic girl kept taking her diapee off, peeing on people, and locked herself in the bathroom. Possibly drowning herself in the toilet or drinking the toilet water. An emergency stay in a psychiatric hospital would be mandatory. Do you really want that to happen?" 

Reila froze. Surely the bitch was not serious? She wouldn't dare. Sonja often threatened, but her mother did not have the balls to ever follow through. Hell, she'd never even spanked her. How could some strange woman dare to raise a hand against her? Wouldn't Sonja stop her?

"Reila's not autistic." Sonja spoke up in a confused tone. 

"I used to think that about my Rachie, and now look at her! Of course, your Riley needs diagnosed by a doctor, but she's behaving almost as bad as my Rachie was. I know several excellent doctors, I'd be happy to give you their numbers. There's no shame, honey. Mommies have to do what is best for their babies." 

"You're insane! You wouldn't dare!" Reila called in horrified disbelief. 

"Okay, Riley-baby. Have it your way." Emma's voice rose. "Excuse me, miss? Flight attendant? There's an emergency with the autistic girl. The one who took her diaper off and peed all over that man? It seems she's locked herself in the bathroom-" 

Reila's blood ran cold. The hag really was going through with it. And trying to label her as a retard! Her mother wasn't any help, as usual. She was not mentally retarded, but who would authorities believe, the crazy pink velour lady, or the girl who'd peed all over another passenger? Panic twisted in her gut, and she reacted without thinking, in blind desperation. 

The door flung open. "NO! DON'T! STOP!" She hollered, voice echoing around the spacious cabin of the international flight. Sonja, Emma Jean, and two flight attendants stood, staring at the screaming teenage girl in just a teal sweater, legs splayed, and the huge white diaper peeking out from under her sweater. 

The flight attendants smiled awkwardly, eyes flicking to Emma Jean and Sonja, but focusing on the teenaged girl with her puffy diaper on display. Reila's face flushed; she dropped her gaze, yanking her sweater down, stretching the knit material out. No matter how she squirmed and tugged, the shape of the huge diaper remained on display, the bulky white crotch peeking out. 

Sonja stared, the depressed part of her wishing she could be surprised. But after an arrest for shoplifting, going down to bail Reila out, seeing her in handcuffs, watching her in court…..numerous occasions of wet pants, calls from the school….that huge diaper was almost a positive image. No way her daughter could leak in that. She found herself more in awe of Emma Jean. So calm, composed and steady, able to deal with anything Reila dished out and counter it. Emma Jean got the wayward girl to listen to her. What magic was this?

Emma Jean beamed. "Good baby! Now, let your mommy check your diapee! Good girl putting your diapee on all by yourself! Just like a good, big girl! But it needs fixed a little. You don't want to go pee-pees on anyone else, do you?" 

"Fuck you!" Reila snarled, stamping one bare foot in humiliated anger. Her thick diaper crinkled audibly. Her head snapped up, blazing eyes locking with Emma Jean's in challenge. 

Sonja winced at the rage bubbling in her daughter's gaze. "Reila!" She scolded. 

Emma Jean laid a placating hand on Sonja's forearm. "She can't help herself. It's mental- they just don't have the self control of a neurotypical person. You really, really should consider getting her diagnosed, dearie." 

The flight attendants looked bewildered and frightened at the idea of an out of control, mentally ill passenger. They inched away at the hostility radiating off of Reila. "P-perhaps I should t-talk to the c-captain…" One hedged. 

"A moment, please, dearie? I know it's unnerving, but I deal with this everyday with my own daughter. She's severely autistic, you know. Special needs and mental illness can be very scary if you're not used to it." 

The flight attendant hesitated then nodded warily. Emma Jean beamed at her. 

Sonja tried pleading. She needed to diffuse this situation before they got kicked off the flight. She could not afford another ticket, let alone two, and more importantly, Great Grandmother Uschi would be displeased. "Reila. Please cooperate. You're making things much more difficult. This nice lady is even offering you a change of clothes." Perhaps pleading would succeed where sternness failed. 

"Maybe she doesn't want to wear pants?" Emma Jean looked at Reila thoughtfully. She tapped one polished nail off her chin. "My Rachie loves to crawl around in just her diapees. Or maybe she's constipated. Rachie gets super cranky when she's all backed up. Sonja dear, when's the last time little Riley made poopies?"

"W-what?" Sonja's eyebrows rose at the unexpected question. Emma Jean was a very strange woman; she talked down to Reila like she was a child. Or mentally ill. Could that be? Maybe…Reila did have problems? But then, wouldn't a school counselor or psychiatrist have caught it by now if she was? This whole situation was absurd, and Sonja just did not know how to get this circus under control. She really was not cut out to be a mother….maybe there was something to Emma Jean's method. She seemed to be handling Reila much better than Sonja. 

"A bowel movement, dearie. When's the last time Riley pooped?" Emma Jean clarified. 

"Um….back at the airport? She told me she did…but that was when she took her diaper off." Sonja shot an accusing look at her grown child. 

It was too much for Reila. Emma Jean's deranged threats had cowed and scared her. Now her temper reared its ugly head at the mention of her bowel movements in front of strangers. People just needed to mind their own business, and leave her the hell alone. She was not the one causing problems, they were. "PULL-UPS! THEY'RE PULL-UPS AND I'M NOT RETARDED!" 

The flight attendants flinched at her thundering, looking ready to bolt and call an emergency landing. 

"Of course not, sweetie. That's such a nasty word. You're a very special little girl, just like my Rachie. Now, sweetie, you need to calm down. Just let mommy check your diaper and you can go sit quietly in your seat. Or you can go to the hospital and let the doctors calm you down with some nice medicines. " 

Emma Jean looked at the attendants, who appeared even more nervous. "Riley, everyone's very worried. Maybe you do need a doctor." 

"NO!" Reila blurted, panicking once more. This situation just kept getting worse with each passing moment. She'd stop fighting if people just stopped humiliating her. 

"Riley, this is your last chance. You will be a good girl? Let your mommy fix your diapee? Then you can go sit down and we can forget all about this little incident." Emma Jean cooed. 

"No." Reila's anger died from a defiant boil to a steaming simmer. She growled deep in her throat, still defiant but terrified of being admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Getting arrested had been scary enough. As a criminal, she'd still had rights, had still been thought sound of mind. Who would listen to her if they believed she was crazy, out of her mind? No one. 

"No, what? No doctor? No, you will not be a good girl?" Emma Jean's voice took on a sterner yet still syrupy tone. 

"Reila, please. Everyone can see your diaper. Just…just let me …fix…it and you can get dressed and it will all be over." Sonja pleaded again. 

"Maybe I really should call the captain, she's not calming down. We have the safety of the other passengers to think about…" One of the flight attendants piped up. 

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"Fine! Fix the fucking diaper." Reila hissed venomously, barely restraining herself from shouting. She grabbed the sides of the doorway, raising her arms up. The sweater rose up as well, exposing more of the huge, brilliantly white and super noisy diaper. The bulk of it already forced her legs apart. 

Sonja bent, fingers shaking in her nervous hurry. Laundering wet sheets, scrubbing a wet mattress, washing wet clothes, she was used to. Bringing Reila a fresh change of clean clothes. Buying pull-ups. Never putting them on her. The last time she'd changed a diaper was when Reila had been small. She bit her lip, struggling to remember what to do. The nurses at the hospital had showed her, when Reila lay in an unconscious stupor on the hospital bed from her drunken overdose. She'd tried to pay attention, but her mind had been full of other worries. An expensive copay, all those papers from the police and the court, attorneys, trying to find another job….

"Here, honey, let me help you." Emma Jean piped up when Sonja fumbled with the diaper tabs, tugging gently. The misplaced tabs barely budged. Without waiting for a reply, she darted in. Her nimble fingers expertly ripped the tabs open, tugging, pulling and re positioning the diaper in seconds then replacing the tabs. She was done and standing back up before either Sonja or Reila fully processed what happened. 

"There we go, all done!" Emma Jean beamed. "I'm so used to changing a squirming Rachie's diapers. Riley held still like such a good girl!" She cooed proudly, praising Reila. 

Reila's eyes were screwed shut, her face beat red in humiliation as she mentally cursed her mother to hell and back. She winced and cringed at the loud ripping of the tabs, the tugging of her diaper. She assumed it was Sonja; opening her eyes, she saw her mother still partially crouched, eyes wide in shock. She still assumed Sonja had fixed her diaper. Upon realizing they were done embarrassing her, Reila yanked her sweater down to cover the bulge. She shifted, still crinkling just as loud. But the diaper felt tighter, more secure. More suffocating. She was trapped in padded hell. Her fingers squeezed the hem of her sweater as she fought off the urge to rip the diaper back off. 

"Thank…you…." Sonja muttered through shocked, numbed lips. 

"Anytime, honey! Now, Riley, would you like pants? Or no pants?" Emma Jean sweetly held out a plastic blue grocery bag to her. 

"Pants." She hissed venomous and low, voice brimming with suppressed hatred as she reached out to snatch the bag away. 

"No no. You don't just take. That's naughty. Say please, and I will give these to you." Emma Jean chided in a singsong voice like she was scolding a two year old. She yanked the blue grocery bag away just as Reila's fingertips brushed it. The bag swayed in her hand, plastic crinkling just like Reila's diaper. 

"Lady, just give me the damn pants." Reila growled, barely resisting the urge to shout, to reach out again and punch the crazy bitch and take the pants herself. The presence of the flight attendants and Emma Jean's repeated promises of authorities and hospitals caused her to check her temper. 

Emma Jean stared at her patiently but firmly not backing down. Ask nicely for the pants, or go diapered. Reila swallowed her anger, her stomach churning with a sour feeling. 

"Please." Reila growled again humiliation burning her face and ears a brilliant Christmas red. 

Emma Jean smiled. "Good girl." She cooed and held out the bag again. 

Reila's hand trembled as she snatched the offered back before Emma Jean could change her mind or pull another crazy stunt. She went to slam the door from some privacy, but Emma Jean stepped forward, a hand grabbing the door, forcing it to stay open. 

"Hey! I'm just putting my damn pants on! What's the big idea?" Reila snarled indignantly. 

"Riley sweetie, leave the door open. We need to make sure you don't get in any more trouble. We also need to make sure your diapee stays on." Emma Jean cooed with a smile. 

They were all going to watch her get dressed. Reila scowled, opening her mouth to argue. The flight attendants hoovered nervously behind Emma Jean, watching Reila like a hawk. One phone call to the captain. She'd been so focused on her own emotions, her diaper on display, on Emma Jean and her circus of bullshit, that she had barely paid attention to the flight attendants. She just wanted to ignore everyone, to get dressed in peace. She looked at her mother. 

Sonja just shrugged at Reila's imploring gaze. "Just put the pants on, Reila. Get it done and over with and we can go sit down." She said tiredly. 

Reila scowled. Her mother, Emma Jean and her obnoxious neon pink velour, the flight attendants, all had seen her diaper. Had seen her mother adjust her diaper. Putting on pants was minor compared to that. Her mother was right, for once. Emma Jean was not going to go away. Just put the pants on and then she could go sit down and get away from that psycho.

"Whatever." Reila tore into the bag. At this point, she just wanted to cover up her diaper and hide in her seat. 

"Reila, that's rude. Tell Emma Jean thank you." Sonja scowled, but the tiredness and emotional exhaustion on her face sucked the fierceness out of the expression. 

"Pardon the interruption, dearie, but it's best to pick and choose your battles. Remember, special babies need lots of patience. One thing at a time. I must say, Rachie's diapee fits Riley perfectly. So I'm sure the pants will, too." Emma Jean gently smiled at Sonja like a patient teacher. 

"Are you sure about this? If you give me your address, I'll wash and mail the pants back to you." Sonja promised, feeling a bit weird about accepting clothes from a stranger she barely knew. Disposable, one time use diapers were one thing, but clothing? 

Emma Jean patted her hand. "I'm just following the Lord's teachings. You keep the clothes. They're old ones, anyway, and I have another spare set. My poor Rachie gets a lot of diaper blow outs, so I've learned to carry extra sets of changes. Back up clothes need back ups with all of Rachie's diaper blowouts." She giggled. 

The flight attendants looked disgusted with that statement and shot Reila wary looks, as if fearing her bowels having a diaper blow out, too. 

"A change of clothes is a good idea, especially after today. I can't even trust Reila to carry her own diapers. I'm really tired of her peeing everywhere. I can't thank you enough. May I ask where you get such absorbent diapers from? There's no way Reila could flood those."

Reila paid no attention as the two women chatted while watching her dress. Humiliation burned her face and ears a brilliant scarlet. Events were starting to penetrate her layer of indignant rage that numbed her brain. It was a protective shield; she only focused on her anger and blocked out the full reality of the unpleasant events going on around her. It had served her well in the principal's office, getting processed in jail, in the courthouse. Now, she wanted to just get the hell out of there. 

She opened the bag, staring down at the pastel pink contents. Her upper lip curled in disgust at the babified color. Only little girls and blonde Barbie bimbos wore bubblegum pink. She shuddered in distaste as she lifted the pants out of the bag, which crinkled as loud as her diaper. Sweat pants. No babified snaps in the crotch or along the legs. Just regular, ugly pink sweatpants. 

She breathed a sigh of relief. Here she'd been expecting big baby clothes, and instead she was presented with normal pants. She was lucky, even if it was a hideous color and would clash with her pretty, stylish sweater. Between the pants and just a diaper, she'd take the ugly pants. She looked to her dry jeggings, taking a few crinkling, waddling steps to the sink edge and gave them an experimental sniff. She jerked back in disgust. They reeked of piss. 

These pants were all she had. Reila bit her lip to stifle a groan as she held the pants out and lifted one leg then the other, putting the pants on. Every little move caused the diaper to crinkle noisily and made her grit her teeth. She really wanted to rip it off, throw it in Emma Jean's face. Suffocate her with it. Reila smirked darkly at the satisfying mental image. 

"Are you sure it's okay if we keep the pants?" Sonja worriedly chewed her lip as Reila was strangely quiet and cooperatively getting dressed. No shouts, no threats, no tantrums. 

"Of course, dearie. They're old clothes, from before Rachie was diagnosed. She only wears special adaptive clothing now. Makes changing and dressing her so much easier on me. I only kept the pants as a backup change, otherwise they'd have gone to charity along with the rest of Rachie's old clothes. So, really, you're doing me a favor by taking them off my hands." That seemed to set Sonja at ease; Emma Jean smiled. 

Reila yanked the hated pink sweatpants up. The huge bulk of her diaper stretched the would-be-loose crotch out to its max. She grunted as she tugged, struggling to get the monstrous diaper fully covered. The elastic waistband of the pants squeezed her stomach and scrunched the bulky, soft padding against her genitals. It almost felt nice in a suffocating sort of way. She wrinkled her nose and waddled a few steps, crinkling all the way. 

She glowered at the uncomfortable sensation and pulled the pants down to just above her hips. The front diaper panel and tapes poked out. The pants were loose and a little long in the leg; Rachel apparently was taller than her. The diaper made the crotch balloon out in a huge, unmistakable bulge. 

Reila scowled, her displeasure simmering under the humiliation. She pulled her thick, warm, knitted teal sweater down but it did very little to hide the gargantuan diaper bulge. 

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It's a really well written story but I find it hard to get invested when I find it difficult to sympathize with any of the characters. Also as a person on the spectrum I'm kinda uncomfortable with the term just being tossed out as panicked attempt to justify a girl who seems neurotypical's bad behavior. I mean I take two different meds for my shit and I've never almost caused an emergency landing.

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YourFNF-  There's still a few more characters who will enter the frey.  None of the ones so far were designed to be likable.  Both Sonja and Emma Jean were using the autism label as a bullshit excuse- basically, a means to justify their ends.  With Sonja, she was just aping Emma Jean.  It's not right, but for them, it's effective, so they used it. 



Reila poked through the rest of the bag, finding frilly white socks trimmed in pink lace. She sneered and threw them back into the bag with a rustle of both bag and her diaper. Along with the socks were a pair of scuffed, plain white sneakers with velcro closures. Either oversized toddler or geriatric old lady. The shoes were just as hideous as the pants, but it was either ugly old lady shoes or urine smelling boots. 

"Good baby girl." Emma Jean cooed. "See how easy things are when you're a good girl? Keep it up and Santa might bring you something special this year." 

Reila turned from the shoes, looking at Emma Jean as if the deranged woman had lost her mind. "You're certifiable. I'm not retarded, and I'm not a baby." She retorted in a hot, firm tone despite her urge to shout. Shouting had gotten her nowhere. She wanted to tell the crazy bat to fuck off, slam the door in her face. She could feel the rage simmering in her veins. Only Emma Jean's constantly repeated threats of an emergency stop and psychiatric hospital held her in check. After the ruckus she'd already raised, the two bitches in flight attendant uniforms looked all too eager to be rid of her. Even if they did not believe Emma, they would go along with it, just to get her out of their lives. 

Was that what happened to Rachel? Reila shivered at the sudden sense of dread that washed over her at Emma Jean's beaming smile. 

Emma Jean raised a plucked eyebrow. "Of course you're not a little baby. Santa and his companions are real. They represent the spirit of the holidays. Santa is everywhere you go this time of year!" 

"Your nuts." Reila sneered, turning with a crinkle to sneer at the ugly white shoes. 

"Like peace on earth? Good will to men?" Sonja asked in a somewhat confused tone. 

"Yes, exactly. Time to open our hearts. Repent of evil and our selfish ways. Just like Scrooge in a Christmas Carol." Emma Jean beamed at Sonja. 

Reila rolled her eyes at both her mother and the crazy lady. She tried to ignore them once more as she unvelcroed the shoes and pulled the tongues out. She leaned against the sink and bent with a loud rustle from her padded behind as she put her bare foot into the shoe and velcroed it shut. She did the other shoe, both feeling weird with bare feet. She glanced back at the bag, tempted to put the warm socks on. Frilly baby socks. She sneered and turned her nose up in the air. 

"Well, dearie, you should be able to handle things from here. I need to get back to Rachie before she gets too fussy." Emma Jean picked up her puse from where she had sat it on the floor when she had come over. She fished around in her purse. 

"Thank you again for all you've done. I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't here." Sonja gushed. She'd probably have fallen to pieces; Reila would have gotten them kicked off the plane and they'd end up stranded in some foreign country that did not speak English or German. Sonja shuddered at the thought. 

"Praise the Lord, dearie. Not me. He's the one who arranged all this. I'm merely His tool." Emma Jean fished out a neon pink gel pen and an old scrap of receipt, scribbling on the blank back. 

"Geeze, can we go yet?" Reila was sick of this shit show. She watched her other and Emma Jean chatting and her scowl deepened. She was so done, so over it. She was dressed. "I'm going to sit down." She declared then flounced out of the bathroom with a loud, crinkling waddle. The huge bulk of her diaper forced her legs apart. Her gaze remained fixed to the airplane floor. The awkward, crinkling waddle destroyed her indignant walk, making her look like a sulky toddler. She didn't know what was worse; the bulge or the waddle? 

Emma Jean glanced at Reila as the humiliated girl toddled past with a red face. Sonja looked concerned, as if torn between staying here and chasing after her wayward offspring. Emma Jean placated her with a reassuring smile. 

"Here, dearie. Do keep in touch." She handed the scrap of paper to Sonja and put her neon pink pen back in her purse. 

Sonja squinted at the messy, bright scrawl. "Kringle?" She read off Emma Jean's last name. Emma Jean Kringle. 

"My husband's last name. Rather unusual, isn't it?" Emma Jean laughed like she was used to receiving that reaction. "Took me a while to get used to it. They're a very big family, and very close. Cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces everywhere. Kringles all over the world." She chuckled again, as if at some private joke. "And then there's the extended family relations- the Klauses, another huge, old family. Jolliest souls you'll ever meet. Ah, and the Ruprechts." She sighed heavily, as if she'd rather not think about that particular branch of the extensive Kringle family tree. "Rotten to the core, every last one of them." She shook her head mournfully. 

Sonja just stared, stunned. Kringle? Klaus? Could that be pronounced like Claus? Ruprecht….that name sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place it. 

"Before my Rachie was diagnosed, I used to think she got her temper from that side of the family."

"Wow. That's….a…big family…" Sonja floundered for words, partially wistful. Her only living relations were Reila and Great Grandmother Uschi. 

"Oh, it is! You should see the family reunions. Last time, we rented out an entire amusement park. They usually end with a Ruprecht or two in jail." Emma Jean scrunched her nose up in distaste. 

"Sounds like quite the party. Oh, here, let me give you my email?" Sonja stuttered out, not sure if she was expected to reciprocate or not. 

"Not necessary, dearie. Just title your e-mail 'From Sonja and Riley' and I'll know it's you." Emma Jean giggled. "Well, I must be going now. Ta-ta!" With a wave, the lady in neon pink velour went back to her seat, leaving a flabbergasted Sonja in her wake.

Sonja watched as Emma Jean and her retina burning pink left. She folded the slip of paper and put it in her pocket.The tension in her snapped and all she wanted to do was collapse bonelessly into her seat with a strong drink to take the edge off. The flight attendants stared at her; she stared right back, still reeling from the entire episode. She forced a tight smile; their eyes slid away, into the open bathroom. She followed their gaze and groaned, shoulders slumping a little. Reila had left her pungent pants behind. 

Sonja waited, eyeballing the flight attendants, who did not move. Their eyes slid from her to the bathroom and back again. She sighed, going in to clean up Reila's mess yet again. She grabbed the discarded blue grocery bag that crinkled like Reila's diaper, then put in the dry-but smelly pants and socks. The Ugg boots were still damp and reeked of piss. Reila would never wear the expensive boots again and no doubt expected unemployed and nearly broke Sonja to buy her another pair. 

Sonja apologized to the flight attendants, who just smiled tightly and nodded graciously, then made her way back to her seat. She soon caught up to Reila, who waddled down the aisle ahead of her. That huge diaper slowed the surly teen down. Under her pink pants and teal sweater, her butt ballooned out in an unmistakable bulge. Passengers on the end aisles looked as Reila waddled past, tugging at her shirt hem uselessly. Reila's head was down, cheeks scarlet. 

Several steps behind, Sonja could hear the faint crinkle. Reila's hugely padded behind and awkward, bow-legged waddle held her full attention. Her lips twitched with the faint urge to giggle. Watching Reila toddle along was almost cute. It reminded her of happier times- not that Reila had been an easy baby, but she'd been smaller then and easier to control. Sonja found herself wishing for those good old days again. 

The fat man's vacated seat was already cleaned, the urine puddle long gone. The passenger in front of Reila, the one whose seat she had shoved, stared at her crotch as she passed him with a huge, vindictive smile on his face. He silently enjoyed her agony; Reila never even noticed him as she crinkled and shuffled along. She twisted awkwardly, maneuvering into her seat before plopping down with an audible crinkle. She stared resolutely out the window, not noticing Sonja either, blocking the entire world out. 

Sonja shook her head as she waited for Reila to sit and get situated, then she sat down herself. Reila always did have a nasty temper, just like her father. Sonja winced at that thought. So much like her father, despite Sonja's best efforts to raise her right. Would Reila's fate be the same as her father's? A life behind bars. 

Sonja sighed heavily, her soul sinking with those heavy thoughts like a cement block tied in a noose around her neck. She never wanted to be a mother, especially at eighteen, a senior in highschool. A broken condom changed all that. Her one night stand did the socially responsible thing at the time and shacked up with her. Neither of them were happy; it was a tumultuous on again, off again relationship. As time passed and their child grew, it became more off than on and finally went cold when he landed a lengthy prison sentence. 

Sonja looked over at Reila; her daughter's profile was sharp against the little round window. All she could see was Reila's father. So much of him in his baby girl. Reila ignored her, not even glancing at her. 

Sonja rubbed her face with her hands, fighting the urge to cry. Maybe this trip could be a good thing. Maybe Great Grandma Uschi would have an answer for Sonja's hopeless situation. It was a last, desperate hope. 

Reila shifted in her seat. She felt like she was sitting on a very noisy pillow. She scowled. The soft padding enveloped her sensitive private parts in a warm cocoon, squeezing her whenever she shifted. She shifted her weight around, crinkling with every muscle twitch, unable to get comfortable because of the thick bulk. 

This diaper was ridiculous. Part of her still wanted, after all that happened, to rip the diaper off. That indignant part insisted she did not need a diaper. The horrid pink sweatpants argued otherwise. 

Pissing her pants in a flood not even her trusty pull-ups could handle. Pissing on a stranger. Her heart beat fast; she scrunched her face up, eyes squeezed close. She'd wear the damn diaper just….just in case. To protect her from another accident- not that she would have another accident. She was done with excuses. No more. She was going to potty a lot and keep her diaper dry. 

If she stayed quiet, kept her diaper on, she wouldn't have to see that pink nightmare again. Reila shuddered at the thought, sinking down in her seat with an audible crinkle. The movement pressed the thick padding against her crotch. So soft, like a lover's caress on her mound. Thick, soft, protective. This diaper could handle a flood; she didn't have to worry about that again. 

She sighed, relaxing for a brief, flashing second. Then she sneered and snarled at her reflection. Diapers were neither desired nor required. She just had to prove it. Show her mother she was an adult; she did not need her. Especially after siding with Emma Jean. If her mother had just kept the extra pull-ups, the whole sordid episode would not have happened. 

The pull-ups had not saved her from flooding. Now, if she had had this thick diaper on, she would not have peed everywhere….. Reila growled at the thought, wanting to punch the window and her reflection until her knuckles bled. Instead, she just scrunched in on herself, shifting around with a loud crinkle, and gripping the armrests so tight her fingernails dug into the plastic. 

Maybe the senile old bat they were going to see would treat Reila like the adult she was. Would make Sonja realize just how much she screwed up, get her off Reila's back. Only babies, geezers, tards, and disabled wore diapers, and Reila was none of those things. Her great-great grandmother was her only hope. Otherwise, she saw no way out of this. She closed her eyes, depression washing over her. 

"Hans, there they are. And she's wearing a diaper, just like me." 

"Are you sure, Nicky?" 

"Yup, look at how poofy her butt is. That's a diaper butt." A giggling voice answered. 

"I meant you sure that's them. And get your thumb out of your mouth. People are watching."

"Sowwy." Nicky smiled up at the huge man from his wheelchair. 

Hans Trapp paused in his scan of the crowd coming through the train station to glance down at his charge. Nikolas Klaus was such a pretty boy; he was usually mistaken for a girl. At eighteen, he was still more boy than man; no growth of facial hair, voice high, clear and sweet- which only added to his femininity. Hell, his balls hadn't dropped yet; Hans recalled from changing Nicky's diaper. Some freak medical condition? Someone tampering with his body? Hans had no idea, and no inclination to pry. He was just asked to babysit the boy, so that just what he did. 

Already Hans had gotten numerous compliments on how pretty his daughter was, people mistaking Nicky for a girl and for Hans' daughter. Hans was just the emergency babysitter. Nicky's usual caretaker, Az, had dumped Nicky on him at the last minute, forcing Hans to take the boy with him on his errand for his neighbor, old lady Uschi. 

"Yes, Uschi's great granddaughter and her daughter." Nicky giggled again. "Right there." He pointed as people passed. "See? Next to the lady with the flower hat." 

Hans leaned a little and saw the mother and daughter. "Right. Let's go." He pushed Nicky's red wheelchair forward. Nicky had shiny green ribbon woven throughout the spokes on his wheels, along with tiny silver bells that jingled and tingled merrily. The boy loved Christmas, a little too much, Hans thought as the jingling tingling caused people to look. 

All people saw was the smiling face of a pretty "girl", the wheelchair belt pushing her sparkly red sweater up to reveal the unmistakably humongous diaper bugle through "her" sparkly white leggings. Most people automatically returned Nicky's joyous smile, though their smiles were tinged with pity. 

"Where the hell is that stupid mother fucker at?" Reila huffed, arms crossed as she looked around at the crowd. 

"Be quiet! Watch your mouth!" Sonja quietly snarled. Her palm itched to backhand Reila's face. Apart from the late arrival of their plane and a miserable train ride, the rest of their long trip had been uneventful. Reila sulked, bitching about her diaper and threatening to take it off. Sonja harped on her and would not let her go to the bathroom by herself, resulting in Reila not going at all. Reila had tried repeatedly to run to the bathroom and rip the damn thick, horrible, noisy padding off, but Sonja always got up and followed her, catching her before she could waddle to the bathroom. She'd grab her hand and drag her along like a toddler.

Reila had fought at first until she realized that just garnered more attention. The train was too crowded and too confusing for her to slink off and find the bathroom on her own. A new country she'd never been too- the home of her ancestors. Where they spoke a language she barely knew, had never wanted to learn. Sonja spoke just enough to get by, but it made her even more short tempered and snappish. That irritated Reila almost as much as the wet diaper she was trapped in. 

That huge diaper certainly held a lot of fluid. Reila had fallen asleep on the plane and had woken up wet just as it was time to rush off the plane for the train. And now the man who was supposed to pick them up was late, leaving her in the damned wet diaper longer. 

"Just get me a fucking pull up from the luggage and I'll go change." Reila hissed. People passing talked in a language she barely understood, caught only a few words of. Reila's grandmother, before she got sick and passed away, had tried to teach Reila German. Reila had not been interested at all in her heritage. All of the writing was in German, with very little English at this station out in the alpine boonies. She had no idea where to even begin to look for a bathroom. 

People passing by stared at the thickly diapered girl. Some spoke English and knew what she said, but for those that did not, they did know a bad attitude and angry tone when they heard one. Passers by looked as if they'd like to spank the girl themselves and shot Sonja judgemental looks for not controlling her daughter. For raising a rotten brat. 

Sonja ignored her, peering anxiously through the crowd. Bells merrily jingling caught her attention. The man pushing the festively bedecked wheelchair, not the pretty girl in it, caught her attention. Tall. Rugged. With dirty blonde hair peppered with gray streaks and an easy air about him. She idly wondered when was the last time she'd been on a date….

"Great. A festive attention whoring gimp." Reila rolled her eyes at the sight. 

"I'm sure she's more pleasant to be around than you." Sonja snapped back, tired of her daughter's constant complaints. The man and girl came within speaking distance. 

"Sonja? Uschi's girl?" The heavily accented English rolled off his tongue and Sonja blushed despite herself. The man's smile was like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. She was tired from the long trip, stressed from struggling with a language she hadn't spoken since her own mother died, and frustrated with Reila. His smile directed at her melted all that away; she could lose herself in those blue eyes. 

"Yes, that's me. Sonja." She answered in German.

"You're even prettier than the picture Uschi showed me. Just like the last time we met."

Sonja paused, translating to English in her head. The more she used her German, the more rust fell off, though her brain was still sluggish. She blushed when she finished translating. Did she have that right? Could he really have said what she think he said? She stared into that beguiling smile and warm eyes…. 

"We've met? Surely, I'd remember you!" Sonja would have fallen for him at first sight. 

"We were just children. You fell out of my father's pear tree." His deep, husky laughter melted her bones and stirred old, forgotten childhood memories. 

"When I stayed with great grandmother Uschi. We spent that whole summer together. Hans. Hans Trapp." Sonja had only visited, had only met great grandmother Uschi once, when she was a small child and had stayed with her for a summer. She had played everyday with the neighbor's son who was her age. 

"Every day until you had to go to America." Hans switched back to his heavily accented English after listening to Sonja's struggling German. He was impressed she had tried on her own accord to speak it and this was his way of thanking her for the effort. He grinned, pleased she'd remembered so much. The longer she stayed here, the more her German would come back. He spoke as if Uschi's house was her true home. 

"How could I have forgotten such a wonderful time?" Or such a gorgeous hunk? Sonja's cheeks reddened with natural blush. She was inwardly relieved when he switched back to English. His English, though heavily accented, flowed much easier than her stuttering, faltering German. 

"Time passes. We grew up. Forgot childhood. But it is good to have you back. In time for old traditions, too." Hans grinned. 

During this entire exchange, Reila shifted irritably. The soggy padding shifted with her, warm and wet, tickling her crotch. After hours in it, she still was not used to it. She wanted to scratch her urine-soaked privates but the diaper was so damn thick any discrete rubbing and pressing could not be felt. It only made her diaper crinkle louder. 

She rolled her eyes at Sonja; her stupid mother was giddy as a love-sick schoolgirl. Reila strained to listen, to figure out what was going on, but she could barely understand the bastard's accented English. She missed when they switched from English to German and back again. She glanced at the girl in the wheelchair, scowling at the girl's thickly diapered crotch, then blushed heavily when she realized she herself probably looked like that. Was her own diaper really that visible? She tugged on the hem of her long teal sweater, trying in vain to hide her own gigantic diaper bulge. 

The girl in the wheelchair watched her and giggled, not bothered at all by her own exposed diaper bulge. 

Reila sneered at her. "Just great. Fuck my luck. Looks like I'm stuck with you." 

The girl ignored her hostility, speaking in a high voice like the chime of bells. Her sweet notes were as heavily accented as Han's. "I think they're cute. Hans is single. Is your mom?"

"Of course the Cheerful Christmas Cripple would. What's with all those fucking bells?" Reila ignored her question, gesturing with a jerky swipe of her arm at the girl's wheels.

"Jingle bells. Silver bells. Sounds of the season. Helps get people in the Christmas spirit." The girl giggled. "I'm Nicky. You're Reila." 

"You're bells are annoying as hell. Like you. You're giving people migraines. "

"Most people seem to enjoy them. I've gotten a lot of smiled." 

"Because people pity you. Stupid gimp. Is your brain damaged, too?"

They were interrupted by a hand touching Reila's shoulder. "This is my daughter. Reila." Sonja introduced her to Hans. 

"Kid's got a mouth on her." Hans watched Sonja's frown deepend. "And your eyes. Her father must be proud." 

"Oh, no. No. It's just me. Her dad's not in the picture. I'm a single mom. Raised her myself." Sonja stammered. 

Hans' lips quirked in a half smile and Sonja blushed. 

"I'm not a kid! I'm an adult!" Reila insisted in a rising tone. Her temper was even shorter after the harrowing trip. Her nerves were frayed and her soaked diaper was itchy. she was marinating in her own urine and even if she dared to scratch her crotch in public, the huge diaper swaddling her had such a thick layer she would not feel the scratches. No relief. 

"Right." Hans said flatly, looking at her obviously diapered crotch. He sniffed the air. "Does anyone else smell pee?"

Reila flushed red and tugged on her teal sweater, trying futilely to hide her diaper. 

Sonja bit her lip, not sure what to say. Maybe some embarrassment would be good for Reila? 

The wheelchair 'girl'…who was really a beautiful, effeminate boy….Nicky…giggled again. "I'm dry. I think." He did not protest when Hans swiftly bent over, one huge hand going between Nicky's legs and squeezing the obscenely obvious, monstrous diaper bulging against Nicky's white tights. 

Reila stared in horror, eyes wide and face huge as she witnessed the diaper check. Sonja stared as well. That was something she could see Emma Jean doing…

Nicky just smiled serenely as if he was used to it. Reila shuddered. 

"You're good. Just a little damp." Hans stood up. 

"Your child?" Sonja asked after an awkward pause. 

"No, no. I don't have kids. I'm just babysitting." Han's accent deepened as he grew flustered. 

"It was a last minute emergency. Things were hectic with the family business and Grandpa needed Az's help. Christmas is our busiest time of year. It was very kind and generous of Hans to help out by looking after me. I'm sorry for intruding on your reunion. I'm Nicky. It's a pleasure to meet both of you." Nicky smiled sweetly up at Sonja. 

"You can't take care of yourself? How much of a tard are you?" Reila rolled her eyes. She'd kill anyone who tried to humiliate her with a diaper check. Even that hulking gorilla Hans. The soaked bulk of her own diaper pressed against her and she winced. She was jealous of Nicky's "just damp" diaper. 

"Reila, enough! I think you'd be more understanding given your own diaper! And your accident on the plane!" Sonja scolded in an exhausted, feeble reprimand. 

"Moom!" Reila whined, flushing in embarrassment . 

"Nicky is a very special boy. You'll see. You could learn a lot from him." Hans frowned at Reila. Nicky blushed at the praise. 

"A boy?" Sonja and Reila exclaimed in surprised unison. Reila then glared at Sonja, as if Sonja had spoken at the same time on purpose. 

"Yes, a boy. A weird, girly boy. But still a boy under his diapers." Hans shrugged his huge shoulders, as if he didn't think Nicky was much of a boy. 

Nicky blushed. "You can call me a girl if you prefer. I don't mind. They're just labels, and I'm….just me." He shrugged in an unconscious imitation of Hans, as if he didn't think much of gender or labels. 

Reila made a disgusted, gagging sound. She shifted her weight; her diaper crinkled noisily and the soaked padding pressed against her. She wanted out of this diaper! Disgust for the cross-dressing freak turned into disgust for her own diaper. 

Sonja just smiled awkwardly. She thought boys should be boys and girls should be girls. She'd thought Nicky was a girl- he looked and even sounded like a girl. A very pretty girl. Prettier than her own daughter. A boy, pretty in a girly way…the wrongness of it made her head spin. So she just stood there and smiled. 

"You're one of those tranny freaks who are too stupid to know what they are. Guys have dicks and chicks have these." Reila motioned at her breasts. Not large at all, even without the thick sweater minimizing the small twin swells on her chest; just enough to know they were there. 

The smile fell from Nicky's pretty, effeminate face. "I know I'm a boy. But I still like pretty things. I just…want to be myself. I'm not hurting anyone." He said softly, looking right at Reila as he spoke. 

"Nicky's fine." Hans cut it. "I still smell pee. It's not Nicky's diaper. So it must be your diaper, little girl." He spoke loudly. Loud enough to catch the attention of passersby. He looked right at Reila's puffy, visibly diapered crotch, causing onlookers to look, too.

Reila's face blazed cherry red and she suddenly tugged harder on her long sweater, desperately trying to hide the bulge of her soggy protection. 

Sonja folded in on herself, the long flight and drama taking it's toll on her. All she wanted was to quietly get to Great Grandma Uschi's without further incidents. "Reila, please. Maybe you should go potty…but I don't have any more pull-ups."


Sonja winced. "Reila. Lower it. You were almost out of pullups, and I was busy packing. I didn't get time to get more from the store before we had to leave. But I phoned great grandma; she said she'd pick some up for you."

"I'M STUCK IN THIS FUCKING WET DIAPER?" Reila thundered, rage pounding in her ears. Anger and indignation swept her up; she did not care who heard, who was listening. She forgot they were in a train station, surrounded by strangers. All she saw was her mother through a hazy film of blood red. No more pull ups at all. Nothing to change into. Stuck in an itchy, wet diaper.

Hans stepped close to Reila, towering over her. He moved so fast, so quick and silent she didn't notice until he was suddenly lumbering over her with a stern look on his face. She jumped, spurting a little more into her diaper. "EEP!" She took a deep breath, readying to launch into a verbal tirade once she recovered herself. 

Before she could, Hans thrust a finger mere centimeters from her nose. "Nice little girls do not swear. You're upset because of wet diaper. This I understand. That is *not* how a good girl acts. Little girl should learn before it is too late." 

Reila backed up, glowering at Hans. She hated the stupid bastard. Now he was trying to parent her? Just like Emma Jean had. He needed to get his nosy nose out of her business. And he had nerve, especially after he was late getting here. 

"Reila can have one of my diapers." Nicky piped up, shivering a little at Han's strict tone. That was his "you're close to a bare-bottom spanking" tone. But Reila was not his child, and he was not watching her. 

Hans turned, smiling at Nicky. He backed off of Reila with one last warning look; he came over to Nicky's wheelchair, patting Nicky on the head. "Now, that is a good boy. Nice children share." He fished in the blue and white striped diaper bag hanging off the back of Nicky's wheelchair. He pulled out one of Nicky's diapers. He held it up in the air, so people passing by could easily see it. Nicky blushed, tugging his own sweater down while Reila stared, face paling and eyes widening in horror. People stared at the thick diaper, then at Reila's obvious diaper bulge, putting two together. 

It was even thicker than the horrible, sodden monstrosity currently strapped to Reila. How could anyone even walk in that? Not that Nicky needed to worry about that, she thought with a glance at Nicky's festively decorated wheelchair. She snorted. The diaper Hans held up high in the air was red and white striped just like a candy cane. A fucking Christmas diaper. She stared for several horrible heart beats before she realized that obnoxious, festive monstrosity of a heavy duty diaper was the only change she had. 

"Oh, hell no." Reila stared in horror at the cheerful Christmas diaper. She backed up; the back of her legs bumped into her and Sonja's luggage. Luggage. More pull-ups! She whirled, right there on the train station floor, flung open Sonja's battered suitcase and tore through it. "Where the fuck are my pull-ups?" She flung neatly folded but faded clothing. 

Sonja immediately knelt, gathering up the balled up garments. "Reila, stop it! Enough! I already told you, there are no pull-ups. STOP IT!" She hollered, voice cracking in tired frustration. 

Hans looked at Sonja, her tired and worn expression; she was more battered than her suitcase. Sonja felt his stare; she looked back at him and gave a helpless little shrug, as if her daughter were beyond her ability to control. 

Hans shook his head. "I wish cousin Emma was here. She's very good with kids." He
squatted down, thrusting the candy-cane striped plastic diaper right in Reila's face. 

"What the hell?" She smacked the wretched diaper; Han's huge fingers held it firmly, preventing it from flying into the passing, staring crowd. His other hand shot out and firmly grabbed her wrist; Reila jerked, trying to free herself. Han's grip tightened around her stick-thin wrist; his huge hand was ready to crush it. He pushed the diaper back into her face. 

"Little girl, knock it off. Now. You only have wet diaper, or this diaper. You pick. " He growled. 

"LET ME GO, YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" Reila tried to pull free, jerking her torso backwards. Hans let her go; she fell flat on her back on the train station floor. People stopped walking to stare at the spectacle. A spurt of pee trickled into her soaked diaper. Her legs were splayed, sweater up; the huge bulge of her diaper was on display. 

Hans shrugged his broad shoulders and looked at Sonja, who had gathered up all the clothing Reila had thrown. "She's even worse than Emma's Rachel was." 

Sonja forced a brittle, apologetic smile. "Reila! You're-you're-" She stuttered, feeling the judgemental weight of all the gazes on her. She spun, slipping a little on the tiled floor. She froze, wide-eyed, heart speeding up. She didn't know what to do . She didn't want to deal with this. She wished Emma Jean were here. Emma Jean and her autistic daughter……Emma had thought Reila was autistic, too…..

"MY DAUGHTER'S AUTISTIC! NOTHING TO SEE HERE!" She hollered in German, eyes wide. The staring crowd looked from her to Reila to the diaper in Hans' hand. They backed away nervously, thinking the mother was as unhinged as the daughter. Sonja breathed heavily, body stiff. Calm. Emma Jean said she needed to be calm. Patience. She closed her eyes, breathed in, breathed out, slowed her pounding heart. Most people moved on, glancing back over their shoulder at the spectacle. "This is just the face of extreme autism. Nothing to see here." She insisted calmly to the lingering onlookers. She stared them down, doing her best to channel calm, unflappable Emma Jean. Believe in herself. Reila obviously had problems, and she needed her mommy. Sonja held her breath, refusing to give into her instincts and look away. The rest of the crowd continued on their way, still shooting curious glances. 

Sonja turned to Reila and crouched down besides Hans. "Thank you for trying to help. I'll take it from here." She gave him a little, confident smile, then turned to her daughter. "Reila, sweetie. Your diapee is full of pee-pees. You need a clean diapee. Come on, let mommy change you. " 

Reila scooted backwards, away from Hans' huge frame. Her soggy diaper squished and crinkled under her as she moved. She wanted to take that horrid diaper and smack him across the face with it. She glared at him, then at her mother. "W-what? I want my fucking pull-ups, you bitch!" 

Sonja winced, torn between either hollering or just ignoring Reila. No, she needed to stand firm…. She closed her eyes, mentally praying for strength. "Riley. People are staring. So are the clerks behind the counter there. I'll….I'll go tell them my autistic daughter won't let me change her diapee. She's…throwing a fit, trying to take her diapee off. An ambulance needs to be called; she needs a psychiatric doctor." 

Reila's eyes widened as she stared at her mother in disbelief. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She sounded just like that deranged pink velour nightmare! "Y-you wouldn't!" Surely Sonja was bluffing. 

"I don't want to. But you need it. You….you can't stay in that pee-pee diapee. You'll…..you'll get a…a diapee rash. Yes. Mommy needs to change her baby's diapee." Sonja said, wavering in her resolve but still ploughing on. 

Reila's lips twisted in a mocking sneer. "You wouldn't dare! You don't have the money, anyway!" 

Hans stared at Sonja with a newfound admiration. Sonja somehow reminded him of his cousin, Emma Jean. The exchange between mother and daughter was in English, and he had some problem keeping up, but he'd gotten the gist of the argument. "I'll help with the bill. Uschi would cover any medical bills her great great granddaughter has, I'm sure. I…can give her a call." He offered, staring down at Reila. 

Her defiance crumpled. "I want my pull-ups." 

"I know baby. But your pull-ups can't hold your pee-pees. You need a diapee. It's just for now. Mommy will try to get you some pull-ups later. But right now, you need a new diapee. Then we can get to great grandma's." Sonja cooed, growing more sure of herself as she spoke. She felt more confident the more she committed herself to a course of action. Emma Jean was right; she could do this. A step at a time. Firm. Patient. Don't waver. 

"It's not so bad. They're very comfortable diapers." Nicky finally spoke up quietly. He held two pieces of clothing on his lap; ones that had fallen near his wheelchair. He'd been able to bend over and pluck them off the floor. Then he'd folded them and sat them in his lap. 

"Maybe little girl likes her wet diaper?" Hans offered. "My cousin's daughter likes to stay in her poopy diapers." 

Reila's face flushed red. "I don't like staying in this pissy diaper!" She snapped, loud enough to snag the attention of more passers by. 

"Then quit fighting Mommy. Let me put you in a clean diapee." Sonja cooed sweetly. She took the diaper from Hans with a small smile. "Nicky is so nice to share his diapees with you! Now, come on. Let's get you into a clean diapee. Or the doctor. You pick." She stood up, walking over to Reila and held her hand out. 

Reila realized she had no choice. She'd never seen this side of her mother before. Sonja usually crumpled under her relentless tirades. She was…just like that horrid woman. Had that bitch infected her mother with her craziness? 

"Reila? Come on, sweetie." Sonja held her hand in front of her daughter's face. 

Reila stared in growing horror. "N-no. I…I don't need a new diaper." One change in the airplane had been bad enough. "I can do it myself!" 

Sonja hesitated. She really didn't know how to diaper her grown daughter. The situation seemed solved; Reila had given in. Relief washed over her, followed by travel induced exhaustion. "You'll put your diapee on without any more problems?" She raised an eyebrow, not ready to trust Reila yet….and also not wanting to diaper her daughter. 

"Yes, I'll change! I'll change! Just stop the bullshit already!" Reila blurted out, latching onto her mother's momentary hesitation. She lurched forward, getting awkwardly to her feet with the huge, soggy bulge pushing her thighs apart. Her diaper crinkled noisily as she moved around. 

Sonja watched her get up, still wary and ready for her daughter to go off on another tantrum. Reila snatched the festive monstrosity from her hand and shoved it up under her tunic in a futile attempt to hide it. 

"Where's the damn bathroom?" Reila turned, looking through the crowd but everything was in German. She had no fucking clue. Sonja just pointed to a door partially hidden by a large potted plant. Reila squinted, bending a little. The soaked diaper rubbed over her privates. The door had the word "Damen" on it; under that, hidden by a large shiny green leaf, was the universal picture for women's toilet. Reila hadn't seen it from her previous position because of the leaf. 

"Whatever." Reila muttered under her breath, stomping off to the bathroom with her arms crossed, holding onto the diaper hidden under her sweater. 

Sonja replaced the clothes in her suitcase, thanking Nicky for his help, as she cleaned up her daughter's mess. 

"She knows how to put her own diapers on?" Hans asked dubiously as he watched Reila waddle off. Her heavily padded posterior swayed with her awkward waddle. 

"It'll be fine. I think." Sonja waffled with a tired sigh. 

"Perhaps you should check her diaper's on right? So it doesn't leak in my truck?" 

Sonja's shoulders slumped; she didn't have enough energy for a second battle. She'd gotten lucky with just getting Reila to stop fighting willingly put the diaper on. 

Hans stared at her then just shook his head. "She can sit on one of Nicky's underpads." 

Bundled up in her thin but trendy coat, Reila slumped in the backseat of Hans' truck. The world outside the window was awash in white as heavy snow fell, so she couldn't stare out at the passing landscape. It was just lumps under a thick blanket of white. Not that she had any clue where they were. In the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, Germany. 

"How much longer?" She groaned to herself. Her legs splayed on the seat, forced apart by the ridiculous diaper. The thick diaper lifted her bottom off the seat; she felt like she was sitting on a pillow. It was much higher than the soggy one she had on before, too; her ugly pink sweatpants could not cover it. They were stretched tight; she'd barely been able to pull them up over the ridiculous bulge, and the diaper came all the way up nearly to her chest. It crinkled even louder than her last one, too. She wished she'd stayed in the wet diaper; at least that one was smaller, even if it was squishy, itchy, and uncomfortable. 

"We're passing MittenWald now." Nicky spoke up softly. He sat up higher than her, firmly strapped into a special needs carseat. It was clearly a contraption for a pants-shitting tard instead of an overgrown baby. A five point restraint harness strapped him into the thickly padded, large carseat. 

"Mitten World? The fuck is that?" Reila turned her head to sneer at him. she would fit right into that huge carseat; she shuddered at the thought. 
"No, Mit-ten-vald." Nicky enunciated the word slowly in German, as if he was teaching a little toddler how to say a word. 

"You're the tard, not me. So stop talking like I'm stupid." Reila narrowed her eyes, her cheeks glowing red. Just because she needed diapers didn't make her anything like Nicky. She could walk and she didn't need a babysitter, she didn't need anyone to help with her diapers either. Never mind her mother had to tape her diaper on the plane. The pink velour nightmare made her do it. Reila could put her own diapers on. In fact, she didn't need diapers. She just needed pull-ups. She wouldn't have flooded her pull-up on the plane if her mother hadn't been such a bitch about being polite to the fat slob blocking the aisle. 

Nicky's cheeks colored and he lowered his eyes. "I didn't mean you're stupid. I was just trying to show you how to say it." He shifted a little in his carseat, diaper crinkling noisily in the truck. The harness and padding held him tight; he could not move much. His sparkly red sweater was pushed up, leaving his white tights to display the gigantic bulge of his diaper, and the festive candy cane print showed through the white cotton. The harness buckle pressed the thick padding of his diaper tight against him. 

He was used to it, but he wished he had Reila's freedom of movement. She was still a big girl, for now. Rachel had been a big girl, too, and she had never made fun of him for his diapers or his disability. Or that he dressed girly. Now Rachel needed strollers and carseats; she was a baby just like him. He wondered if Reila was going to end up a baby, too. 

"I don't need a gimpy tard who can't even change his own diaper to teach me anything." Reila spat. She shifted her weight, changing position and tugging on her seat belt. Her diaper crinkled as loud and noisy as Nicky's. She tugged on her sweater, trying to hide her obvious diaper bulge and the noises the gigantic, festive diaper made. She was humiliated, tired, and Nicky was the most convenient whipping post. Lashing out at him made her feel less frustrated. 

"You should see the town in summer. It's very pretty. And old. It's famous for its violins." Nicky offered in a softer voice, looking out his own window, but all he could see was the white of falling snow. 

"Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes and looked out her own window, ignoring Nicky's peace offering. She was not home; that's all she cared about. She knew they were somewhere in the German Alps, heading to great-great Grandma Uschi's farm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Probably populated by in-bred locals incapable of speaking English. 

She wished she would've asked her mother about where they were going. She glanced up front; Hans was focused mainly on the snowy road and talking with Sonja, who occasionally giggled like a schoolgirl. Her mother would just get pissy if she interrupted now. She wished she asked about the great great grandmother they were visiting. Shouldn't the old bat be dead by now? Both Reila's grandmother and great grandmother were dead. 

She shifted again, diaper crinkling some more. She was bored; her phone battery had died on the train. She tried to listen in on Sonja and Hans, but they spoke in German. She could only catch a few words and phrases. She snuck a glance at Nicky, who still looked out the window. He sucked quietly on his thumb. Overgrown baby indeed. 

Up and down steep, windy roads and over bouncing, rocking, jarring uneven dirty and ice roads. Her bladder stayed under control though; she kept her diaper dry. Her stomach rolled; quite a few times she came close to blowing chunks. How the hell did Nicky look so relaxed. 


Uschi was a shrivelled, ancient prune with wispy white hair, a penchant for woolen shawls, and a bright blue cane. She was spry for a relic from the stone age, Reila thought. Hans took his good, sweet time saying goodbye to Sonja after carrying in their luggage. Nicky stayed out in the truck. 

Uschi's house had two stories; it was a mix of old and modern. Old-fashioned, thick cream walls with heavy support beams. Dark panelled wood on some of the walls. Doors between every room; that made the house feel smaller than it actually was. Warmth wafted out of the kitchen along with the smell of a delicious, hearty home-cooked meal. Uschi showed them to their bedrooms where they put all their luggage. 

Uschi said they could unpack later; supper was ready and surely they were hungry. Sonja immediately agreed with her. Reila would have argued, but she was more hungry than tired at that point. Reila did try to argue; she wanted to go to the bathroom and rip off her diaper, but Sonja had to translate for Reila, and Uschi quickly herded them along to the kitchen. 

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YourFNF-  There's still a few more characters who will enter the frey.  None of the ones so far were designed to be likable.  Both Sonja and Emma Jean were using the autism label as a bullshit excuse- basically, a means to justify their ends.  With Sonja, she was just aping Emma Jean.  It's not right, but for them, it's effective, so they used it. 




Personally I would have called rather than folded. Twenty four hours max before they figure out what's really going on. Then again I'm much more familiar with the workings of psychiatric medicine both from an academic and patient perspective.

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Personally I would have called rather than folded. Twenty four hours max before they figure out what's really going on. Then again I'm much more familiar with the workings of psychiatric medicine both from an academic and patient perspective.

None of the characters in that scene were familiar with it , hence them being able to use it and get away with it. 

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None of the characters in that scene were familiar with it , hence them being able to use it and get away with it. 


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Personally I would have called rather than folded. Twenty four hours max before they figure out what's really going on. Then again I'm much more familiar with the workings of psychiatric medicine both from an academic and patient perspective.

Meh.  Reila going apeshit every 5 minutes would be enough for them to want to keep her there and get her on some sort of antipsychotic meds.  Not to mention her previous criminal history.  And yes, they'd have her in some sort of diapers at the hospital, as much as she leaks.

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Meh.  Reila going apeshit every 5 minutes would be enough for them to want to keep her there and get her on some sort of antipsychotic meds.  Not to mention her previous criminal history.  And yes, they'd have her in some sort of diapers at the hospital, as much as she leaks.

I mean yeah they'd probably want do an involuntary hold but if it's anything like it is here in the states before they can do that you have to show not just that their unstable but that they actually seriously intend to hurt themselves or someone else and you can't do that for more than 72 hours before you have to have a court hearing. I mean if self destructive behavior was all it took I probably would have been in and out of inpatient several times over the past couple years.


Although honestly she could really use the help.

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"What the fuck is this?" Reila sneered down at her plate. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn't want this weird-looking, strange smelling shit. She'd found the old fashioned bathroom and ripped the diaper off first thing. It had felt weird, so wonky and bulky; probably because she hadn't put it on very well. But she'd kept it dry. Reila had smiled to herself as she sat down and actually peed on the toilet. Her bladder problems were from stress, that was all. She was sure of it, now. Here she was, at her journey's end, diaper dry and peeing in the toilet like a big girl. 

She had smiled happily, not even fighting when her mother had called her for dinner. She'd been in a happy mood, elated at keeping her pants dry. She was not like Nicky or Rachel at all; she did not need diapers. As she had skipped down the stairs, she had felt a pang of guilt. She didn't need diapers, but they did. Maybe….maybe she shouldn't have lashed out at Nicky? The boy couldn't even walk, after all….But if she was nice to him, befriended him, wasn't that the same as admitting she was just like him? 'Hey, we both need diapers, so let's be friends?!" No, she was not like Nicky at all, so she could not- would not- be his friend. 

Now Reila sat down to dinner, still in those ugly pink sweatpants and her teal sweater. Uschi hadn't given either one time to change; supper had been ready and on the table when they arrived. It had annoyed Reila, but she was so happy to be out of that fucking monstrous diaper she didn't care about the sweatpants. She was panty and diaper less and it felt wonderful. Like a big, sexy girl. 

Her stomach growled with hunger; she'd only picked moodily at the airplane food. Yet staring down at the pungent plate made her miss the airplane food. Her bowl was filled with some goopy, soupy bright red-purple broth and red-purple chunks with something that vaguely looked like shredded meat and a few green leaves. Next to it sat a plate with thick slices of toasted homemade bread topped with…..Reila didn't know what the hell it was. Slices of..some kind of meat she'd never seen before. The meat looked like it had gelatin in it; it was reddish pink with darker red bits and thick chunks of white. LIke some kind of gelatin loaf with meat bits instead of actual meat. And what was the white stuff? It looked too solid to be fat. 

"Reila, please. Just try it. You might like it. Great grandma went to all this trouble to make it. You should show her you appreciate it." Sonja cajoled. "Just a few bites now and I'll try to make something you like in a little bit." 

"What. Is. It?" Reila crossed her arms, refusing to touch her utensils. She glowered at her mother, demanding an explanation. She watched as Sonja took tentative bites of the red soupy goup, ignoring her own toast and meat-jelly topping. 

"It's…it's traditional food. I know it looks a little weird. And smells funny. But…it's really not that bad…" Sonja pleaded with a tired sigh. what little backbone she'd had was gone; they'd arrived safe and sound and she just wanted to relax. To eat, bathe, sleep. Just once, she wanted Reila to behave. 

"Borscht. Russian dish. I learned from my first husband." Uschi spoke up after swallowing a mouthful. Red juice stained her puckered, thin lips. She smacked them in satisfaction. "Reminds me of him, everytime I make." She spoke in heavily accented English and stared at Reila. Her English was not that good, but she knew a smart mouth when she heard one, regardless of language. "Headcheese. Is other. Little girl will try." 

Reila wrinkled her eyebrows, face scrunched up in confusion. She looked to her mother for explanation. She'd never heard of either dish. "Borscht? Headcheese?" The head cheese sounded as gross as it looked; she looked down at the loaf of meat chunks on the bread. Just what was in that stuff?

Sonja winced, but she knew Reila would only fuss if she didn't explain, and Uschi would not tolerate that, so Sonja tried to straddle both. "Borscht is mostly beets and some seasonings. Really, it's good. You should try some. It would make great grandma happy." 

"And the head cheese?" Reila's tone grew snippy; she knew her mother danced around the subject for some reason. 

"Just…It's made with…with different parts of an animal. It's kind of like eating any lunch meat. You like lunch meat. So you'll probably like this, too." Sonja could barely stomach the stuff, and her head hurt just imagining the fit Reila would pitch if she knew. 

"Is from pig. Cow. Sheep, sometime. Made from head. Tongue. Heart. Feet, too. Sometime. No worries. Take out brain. Eyes. Ears. Is okay. You try." Uschi spoke up, overriding Sonja's verbal evasion and dithering. 

Sonja slumped in her seat, waiting for the emotional fireworks. She wanted to duck under the table and hide until it was over. 

Reila's eyes widened as her brain processed Uschi's broken, accented English. Her empty stomach roiled at the head cheese. Not a cheese at all. A meat jelly made from the crushed head of an animal. Disgusting. The white gunk was probably cartilage. She glanced down at the meat and was sure she could see eyeballs in it, and bits of skull, despite Uschi's claim those parts were removed. 

"I'M NOT EATING THAT SHIT!" Reila shoved her plate and bowl away in disgust. Bits of red juice slopped over the rim, splashing onto the lacy tablecloth. She jumped up from the table to storm off to her room. She'd rather go hungry than eat that! Her chair scraped loudly on the polished, dark wooden floor. 

Uschi's blue can slammed on hard on the table, making the red borscht jiggle in the bowls. She may not fully understand Reila's fast English, but she knew attitude and backtalk when she saw it. "No. Little girl sit down. Eat. Or she get no food. Hungry belly teach you thankful for food. In hard times. During wars, was no food. You eat what you could, when could. Little girl will learn ancestors' hunger. Know the bad to appreciate the good." She finished her last sentence in German. Sonja shakily translated after a harsh glare in her direction from the diminutive, geriatric woman. 

Reila got most of what the shrivelled hag said, but it was that stern, reprimanding tone that resonated with her. Once in awhile Sonja got close to that tone. But never as fierce and challenging as Uschi. It was like the old bat WANTED her to rebel. 

"G-grandma, Reila's not used to this kind of f-food. Please. It was a long trip. Let her lay down and I'll fix her something later." Sonja tried to defuse the situation, thinking Uschi might be more pliable than Reila. She pleaded her case in German.

"No. You spoil her rotten. You're her mother. Not her friend. Not her servant. Bah, Americans. You make the rules. Not her. You teach her how to behave. You're in charge, not little girl. Little girl eats now, or she goes hungry." Uschi didn't give an inch. To her descendents, her word was law. She shifted her gaze to Reila, then back to Sonja. "You tell little girl. Now." She spoke in German. 

"Whatever the old bat said, she can kiss my ass!"

"Reila! This is Uschi's house. we're guests here. You really need to eat what she made. Or..or you get nothing. I won't make you anything later. I mean it. You'll…you'll go hungry." 

"Mom!" Reila whined. 

"Reila. You eat what Uschi made. Or you get nothing. You pick. Uschi says so." Sonja finished, her tone growing more confident as she spoke, as if using Uschi as an excuse somehow gave her the back up she needed to parent. 

Reila was used to bullying her mother into submission. Into doing what she wanted. She glared. Sonja winced, looked away, caught Uschi's disproving eye, and looked right back at Reila. Uschi's gaze never wavered. Silence progressed. Reila stood glaring at her mother; Sonja frowned right back. Uschi calmly sat down as the moments stretched out. She tucked back into her meal and calmly ate. 

Sonja chewed her lower lip, unsure what to do. Force Reila to eat? But that would only result in Reila screaming, maybe flipping the table over. She winced at the thought. She glanced at Uschi; her great grandmother stared back at her, motioned to her chair. Just…sit back down and eat? But what about her daughter? 

"Little girl can eat with us. Or little girl can go hungry." Uschi repeated in German, more to Sonja than to Reila. "You sit down and eat. Let little girl choose now." So Sonja hesitated then slowly sat down and ate as well. Reila just stood there while both ignored her. Uschi ate with ease while Sonja fidgeted, her spoon clanging against her bowl unnecessarily, as if the noise would somehow encourage Reila to sit back down and eat as well. 

Reila glared. They ignored her. Nothing. No reaction. Like she wasn't there; like she had up and left the room. No noise in the small room save for the clanging of metal spoons against porcelain bowls. The sounds of crunching and chewing as Uschi bit into her head cheese and toast. 

"FUCK OFF, BOTH OF YOU!" The rage bubbled up, boiling over. If they wouldn't pay attention to her, hear her out, then she would make them. Reila snarled and swept her plate and bowl off the table with an angry arm. Porcelain shattered on the wooden floor; red beets spattered in puddles, arcing through the air and up onto the nearest wall. Toast and head cheese were mostly unharmed; just toast crumbs mixing in with white shards and chunks of red beet and red juice. 

Uschi moved so fast Reila never saw the blue cane coming until it was too late. 

Reila's defiant triumph was short lived. Fiery pain exploded on her backside. She yelped, stumbling sideways from the force of the blow. Another blow knocked her completely off balance. She crashed to the floor hard as yet another blow rained down on her backside. Wave after wave of pain washed over her. Uschi timed her blows perfectly; the hand of an experienced disciplinarian. As the pain from one swat of the cane faded, another swat followed fresh and hot. 

Tears ran down Reila's face as sobs tore at her throat. She wailed wordlessly, trying to scream for Uschi to stop. Pain consumed her, swallowed her words and drowned her anger. She tried to roll, to kick out with her feet, knock the cane away, but tears blurred her vision and the pain coupled with repeated blows caused her to jerk and twitch, wriggling on the floor. Helpless and unable to escape. 

Uschi finished with one last swat, breathing heavily. The girl's backside would be tender and bruised; lingering pain to remind her to watch her mouth. Every movement, every flash of pain would bring back memories of her getting beat, which in turn would remind her why she was beat. 

Through it all, Sonja just stood, staring miserable at the spectacle. She knew Uschi hit; when she'd been here as a child, she'd felt the wrath of Uschi's wooden spoon and metal pancake turner on her young, tender backside. But….to hit her daughter with a cane? Wasn't that abuse? Uschi was so old and looked so frail, so surely she wasn't hitting Reila *that* hard? And Reila was a drama queen; she'd never been spanked before, so her cries were probably more from the shock of it all than actual pain. Still, Sonja should stop it, right? All those parenting books said how awful and damaging spanking was….

Once the punishment was over, Reila lay in a sobbing heap on the ground and Uschi stood over her, panting from the exertion. "Um…..that's not….I….I don't believe in spanking. Parenting experts say it's wrong to hit a child. Reila's my child. So you…what did you think you were doing?" Sonja stuttered in nervous German. Her stern great-grandmother had always intimidated her. But she had to stand up to her; had to start being a better mother. Or trying to, anyway. 

"Doing what you failed to do." Uschi's blue cane swung up; the rubber tip stopped an inch from Sonja's face. Sonja took a hasty step backwards. Well did she remember the bite of Uschi's blows; her backside tingled in sympathy for her daughter. 

"Hitting a child will damage them? Bah! Rubbish! Look!" She jabbed one gnarled finger of her other hand down at Reila on the floor. "She's already a rotten little monster. Spare the rod and spoil the child. You created that mess. Now I brought you here to clean it up. Teach you to fix your mistakes." 

"Maybe spanking was okay when you were young. But the world is different; times have changed. If…if you keep…hitting my daugher…I'll…I'll…w-we'll leave…" Sonja's bravado was brief, her threat just empty hot air. 

Uschi smiled sweetly at her great granddaughter. "The door is always open. I didn't force you to come here, child. I invited you. You chose to come, knowing full well what it's like here. Remember that. It's a long, expensive way back to your America." 

Each word was spoken without malice; straightforward and matter of fact. Yet that only made them cut deeper into Sonja. Uschi gentled her words and lowered her cane. "You have nothing in America. Not even family. You came here to stay. Start over. That little girl needs a strong mother. Tough love. Little Reila is paving herself a road straight to hell." 

"She-I-" Sonja stuttered weakly, the strength of Uschi's words seeming to steal what little vigor Sonja had. She leaned against the back of a chair for support. 

Uschi turned, heading towards the dining room door. "Be a dear and clean this up." She opened the door, paused with her hand on the knob. "Reila's still young. She still has hope. She needs you to be a mother. Otherwise….well, it's the holiday season, and this is an old land. Blessings are abundant, but so are curses. Old yuletide spirits run amok. Maybe Krampus will come to visit." She smiled an eerie, crooked smile, then left, closing the door behind her softly. 

Sonja sank to her knees, Uschi's parting words washing over her. She brushed that off as senile old lady talk. Her thoughts tumbled and jumbled about like clothes in a dryer. No job. No money. Not even on a government wait list for assistance. Desperation had driven her here, across the ocean, to the only family they had. The only one to extend them a helping hand. A sturdy, beautiful house- unlike their rundown, roach infested apartment in America. Delicious home cooked meals made from scratch. Sonja had never been much of a cook herself; most of the things she made came out of boxes or frozen. Here, local law enforcement did not know Reila's background. No criminal record. A clean, fresh start. 

Even if great grandma was overly strict and senile. It was just her age, and the way she had been raised. She couldn't help it, and she meant well. Sonja would just have to learn to be more assertive with her geriatric relative. 

Reila's soft, pain filled sobs banished that thought as quickly as it came. Uschi may be old, but she could still give a good thrashing with her cane. 

And Krampus? Sonja snorted, recalling her own mother scaring her with bedtime Christmas stories about the cloven-hooved, horned anti-Santa. St. Nicholas rewarded the good, nice children with toys and sweets while Krampus, with his chains and long red tongue, punished the bad, naughty children with beatings or dragging the really naughty ones off to hell. Sonja's mother- Reila's grandmother- had passed away when Reila was still a baby, so Reila never heard the tales of Krampus. Sonja considered them too morbid and damaging for young, innocent, tender ears. 

A faint scent tickled her nose under the lingering aroma of Uschi's cooking. Urine. Sonja automatically looked at Reila, who lay face down on the polished, dark wooden floor. A yellow puddle formed under her waist and hips. Her daughter looked like a giant lying in a small urine lake. Reila still sobbed, hiccupping interspersed with teary, snotty, gasping breaths. Oblivious to having peed herself. Or perhaps she knew and cried all the more because of it. 

Just another mess for Sonja to clean up, as always. She sighed. 

Snow fell gently in huge, flat flakes that glowed in the evening gloom. The setting sun and rising stars were blocked by heavy dark gray clouds that seemed to press onto the land. The only source of light seemed to be the thick blanket of snow that coated the rural, small alpine village. Several big bonfires roared merrily on the village green while small festival stalls sold beer, cider, hot chocolate, mulled wine, pretzels and little spicy sausages on sticks The main road through the village was cleared of traffic, as if for a Christmas parade that ended in the center of the village, on the village green. The few local constables stood by at key positions, on duty to keep the peace. 

Reila hung as far behind Sonja and Uschi as she could without garnering Uschi's attention. She was vigilant to stay out of striking distance of that horrible blue cane. 

It had been two days after the incident at supper, and her backside still throbbed. She had spent most of those days sleeping in bed, laying on her stomach. Uschi had ordered pull-ups for Reila ahead of time, from corresponding with Sonja before the trip. Reila had been doped up on over the counter pain meds that hadn't helped much. She had been able to keep her pull ups dry during the day; she only wet when she was asleep at night and when she'd nap during the day. That was the only thing that cheered her up. She viewed it as proof her bladder was getting better. 

Reila had wanted to call the police, have the old bat arrested for assault. She'd never been hit before, and she would not stand for it. Part of her was indignant, but a larger part feared it happening again. For two days, she had been quiet as a mouse, doing all she could to avoid great great grandma Uschi. 

Sonja had refused to call the police. "Uschi is a well respected member of this community. It's not like back home. We're far out in the country. In this village, they do things differently. More old-fashioned in their thinking. She's one of the village elders. We're not in a city. You can go to the police if you like, but they'll just say you deserved it. You'll have to speak to them in German; I'm not sure if they speak English. They'll probably just say you deserved it." She had hesitated, then added, "Which you did." 

Reila grit her teeth at the memory, feeling hurt, betrayed and abandoned all over again. Especially right after the beating. Sonja had left her laying there on the floor, sobbing in her own urine while Sonja cleaned up the broken crockery and spilled borscht, suzle the German head cheese, and toast crumbs. 

Only after dinner leftovers were put away, the kitchen clean, dishes done, Sonja finally came to her daughter. Sonja said nothing to Reila, merely pulling on her wrists, helping her stand up. Leading her into the bathroom, pulling off her pee-soaked clothes then letting Reila shakily climb into the tub to wash off. 

"You should have kept your diaper on." Sonja had finally spoken as she left her daughter alone in the bathroom to cry some more. To wash herself with shaking hands, unable to sit in the tub due to the fiery pain on her backside. Reila had to squat on her feet; she'd been able to do little more than squirt herself off with the detachable shower head. She cried through drying herself off; her leg and back muscles shook, sore and aching from the blows, not wanting to cooperate with her. She'd stumbled, dripping wet, to her new bedroom. 

Sonja had found the pull-ups; she had at least laid out a clean pull-up, clean pajamas, and had set a small cup of milk and small plate with a thick slice of Uschi's homemade toast slathered in a dark purple jam. 

The pull-ups were all white and thicker than the thin, pretty purple ones Reila was used to wearing. But they were so much thinner than those horrible, awful diapers she had been wearing, and they pulled up just like underwear, so Reila hadn't cared. She'd almost smiled when she put it on with jerky movements. So wonderfully thin, quiet and discrete. The toast and milk- Uschi had said no food for Reila, but Sonja defied her anyway. Maybe her mother had not fully abandoned her.

Now, Sonja and Uschi walked ahead of Reila down the snowy path into the village. The sidewalks were heavily salted; Uschi was surprisingly stable in her boots and with her blue cane, while Sonja hoovered uncertainly besides her, as if she was afraid the old woman would slip and fall. She kept trying to reach out and hold Uschi's elbow, only for Uschi to wave her off. 

A blast of sharp, frigid wind whipped up, biting right into Reila. She shivered, her breath misting every time she exhaled, like smoke curling from a dragon's nostrils. It was so much colder here than back home. Here was now home. 

Reila grimaced at the thought, tilting her head back up at the night heavy with lead colored clouds. The huge mountains surrounding them were invisible in the snowy gloom. Winter here was like a giant who slumbered all summer atop the distant snowy peaks, then upon waking swooped down on frigid wings to devour the land. 

Her thin, trendy and name brand winter jacket did little to keep her warm. Back home in the States it had been just fashionably fine. Uschi had offered her a heavy, puffy coat that was decades old and reeked of mothballs. Reila flat out refused; Uschi had just shrugged, said, "Little girl likes to learn hard way." In thick, broken English. Now, Reila froze her ass off and wished she had worn the hideous coat. 

"How much longer?" Reila spoke up, practically shouting to be heard over the wind. She spoke to her mom, but her eyes fastened on Uschi's back, just waiting apprehensively for her to whirl around and swing that damned evil cane at her again. 

Sonja glanced over her shoulder. She had worn one of Uschi's old coats; it was ugly yet toasty warm. "The Krampuslauf hasn't even started yet." 

"I'm cold. This is stupid. I wanna go back to the house." Reila whined in a shrill voice, hoping her mother would cave just to avoid a scene. She stared hopefully at her face; she could tell by Sonja's frown and scrunched eyes she was considering letting Reila go back to Uschi's house. 

"Please Mom! It's cold. I'm tired. I don't wanna go to some stupid parade. This sucks." Reila whined some more, watching her mother's expression waver. 

Uschi coughed pointedly and gave Sonja a sharp look. Sonja winced, withering under that stern gaze. Finally, she spoke, spitting the words out as if she had something sour and unpleasant in her mouth. "Reila, enough. We went over this already. You should have worn the coat great grandma gave you. The Krampuslauf is a very old tradition. You're just….just going to have to suck it up. Next time, take grandma Uschi's advice. Besides, this is supposed to be a fun event. You could learn a bit about your heritage." 

Reila stomped her foot; Uschi's head whipped back to her. Reila's sharp retort died on her tongue; her eyes immediately flew to the blue cane in Uschi's hand. Her bruised, swollen butt twinged; she cringed at the pain and the memory of the beating. "Hard way." Was all Uschi said in German. 

Reila swallowed her venomous retort. The words burned her throat; she longed to hurl them at Sonja and Uschi. She glanced away in a snit fit, glaring. At least she didn't have a diaper on. Or even a pull-up. Reila had kept her pants dry two whole days when she'd been awake. Sonja had wanted her to wear a pull-up, just in case. Reila had taken it off just before they left. 

She smiled at the rebellion, feeling her jeans brush over her sensitive, bare privates. She would finally prove, once and for all, she did not need diapers. She would keep her pants dry throughout the entire night. Ahead, the brightly glowing bonfires beckoned, sparks dancing in the dark like fairies of yore come to play. 

Reila tugged uselessly on her thin coat; it was more of a jacket than a coat, and did little to protect her from the winter chill. The people gathered near the bonfires looked toasty warm. Her mother looked warm if horrendously unstylish in one of Uschi's puffy, old coats. Uschi and Sonja talked in German, still walking ahead of Reila. 

Some people in the noisy crowd called out Uschi's name as they approached, beckoning the trio over. Sonja crinkled her nose; the last thing she wanted was to be around any country bumpkins who actually liked Uschi. Seeing Sonja and Uschi absorbed in a conversation she could barely understand and had no interest in, Reila slunk off towards the nearest fire, weaving her way between the crowd. 

People carried steaming paper cups, cheeks pink from the winter chill and, for the adults, the festive spirits in their cups. They chattered in excited voices while children ran about, prancing in nervous excitement as if something both very good and very bad was about to happen. 

Reila just wanted to be warm. She'd much rather be back at Uschi's big house, wondering if her unemployed mother had managed to buy her any presents this year. She suspected not. The huge fire crackled merrily and Reila staked her spot just inside the circle of warmth. She sighed happily as a wave of warmth washed over her, chasing away the cold bite of winter. She was at the front of the parade route, and stood her ground with sharp elbow jabs to anyone who jostled her. If she had to stay out in this frozen hellhole, she'd damn well have a prime view of all the hubbub. 

It was nice to be away from her nagging mother and the violent, deranged old bat. On her own, she felt like a grown up. Not a pants-wetting, diaper-needing little kid tagging along at her mommy's side. She sneered at the humiliating thought. 

What the hell was the point of this stupid nighttime parade anyway? Reila listened to the chatter surrounding her, a sea of gibberish noise. She caught very few words. Krampus. Krampus. Krampus. The horned, goat-faced satanic Santa. Saint Nicholas rewarded good children, and Krampus punished the naughty ones. 

Tonight was the Krampuslauf. Sonja had told Reila about it at dinner; Reila had barely listened. She thought it was stupid. A bunch of drunken young men running around in demonic goat costumes. It sounded more akin to a Halloween thing. Some dark, pagan ritual that had somehow survived through the ages and became entwined with Saint Nicholas. 

Alcohol and senseless inebriation sounded great; Reila hadn't been drunk since the last time she'd been arrested. Closer to the fire, she caught the admiring glance of a glassy-eyed drunken man, his hazy gaze focused on the tight fit of her jeans, hugging the curves of her backside. She smirked at him, glad she'd taken off her pullup. She didn't plan on being here very long. 

"Pardon! Pardon! Make way! Disabled coming through!" A female voice called out. 

Someone jostled Reila; she stumbled but kept her balance, and her spot. "Watch where you're going, stupid fuck." She snarled. She was not giving up her place by the fire for anyone. 

"Sorry! Please, excuse us." A sweet voice followed the shout of the female voice. 

Dread curdled in Reila's stomach at that voice. She looked around then groaned at who suddenly stood beside her. "Nicky." 

The girly-looking boy was standing, his face near Reila's. The shiny aluminum of his forearm crutches glinted with flickering reflections of red, yellow, and orange flames. His red, feminine wool coat flared out at the waist like a dress and was trimmed in fluffy white fur. Heavy, sturdy plastic and metal braces encased his slim legs, partially hidden by his knee-length coat and fashionably fur trimmed snow boots. He leaned forward, all his slender weight balanced on those crutches, as if they were the only things holding him up. 

"Hi Riley." Nicky smiled, speaking in accented English. His pale cheeks colored as Reila continued to stare at his braces and crutches. He shifted his weight to one hip, leaning on his crutches. Under the noise of the crowd, this close to him, Reila heard a faint crinkle and knew he was diapered like he always was. 

"Don't ever call me that. It's Reila." She snarled, head snapping up to glare at his smiling face. A white fur hat perched at an angle on his head, and a matching scarf wrapped around his neck. He really looked like a beautiful girl. Her lips sneered, sickened. 

"Oh, sorry. I thought it sounded cute. Have you been to a Krampuslauf before?" Nicky's happy smile never faltered. 

His constant joy grated on her nerves. Why couldn't he just fuck off and leave her the hell alone? She looked around; the crowd was dense as if the entire fucking village crammed in. If she moved, she'd have to leave the warmth of the fire. She narrowed her eyes, tempted to push him over. The crowd left her no choice but to tolerate him. 

"No. It's fucking stupid. My mom made me come." Reila crossed her arms, looking away from him, into the empty, snow covered lane. 

"I think it's fun. A little scary, too. You should give it a chance, you might like it." Nicky deftly ignored Reila's sniping tone. How did he brush that off so easily? She scowled at him. 

"Where's your wheelchair? And those fucking annoying bells?" Fat snowflakes started drifting down from the purple-black clouds as dark as the bruises on Reila's backside. 

"It doesn't go very good in the snow. Salt and snow get stuck in the grooves of my wheels and I track that through the house. It just makes a mess to clean up and annoys Az." 

"So your babysitter let you run loose in your gimp get up?" Reila motioned towards his leg braces and crutches, causing him to blush some more. The smells of roasting cinnamon and sugar coated nuts and sizzling mini sausages on sticks filled the crisp air as people coming from the vending stalls with food worked their way through the crowd. She was suddenly aware of people all around her sipping from steaming cups and munching and crunching on hot candied nuts. She wished she had some money- Euros, Marks, whatever the fucking hell these hillbillies used- to get some roasted nuts and cup of hot mulled wine.

She licked her lips, spying her mother and great great grandmother in the crowd further down the line, in the cold away from the crackling fires. Sonja held a steaming bag of nuts and Uschi held two styrofoam cups; her drink and Sonja's. For a wild moment, Reila regretted slinking off. If she'd stayed with her family, she could have had warm food and hot drink in her belly. Uschi and Sonja chatted, Uschi saying something that made Sonja laugh. In that happy, carefree moment, Sonja looked years younger. Almost like a stranger. She wondered just how well she knew her mother. 

She stared then abruptly jerked her head away. 

"I just gotta be careful. And Az is with me." Nicky gazed down at the rubber covered tips of his crutches, buried in the snow, and at the tip of his snow dusted boots. His coat and boots covered most of his leg braces, hiding them from view. They were called HKAFO braces, or hip knee ankle foot orthotics; they went from the bottom of his feet, up his legs, to around his pelvis. They gave strength and structure to his numb, limp legs that he could not feel and could barely control. The crutches let him balance and walk. Using his braces and crutches tired him out, but he liked using them; they allowed him to stand up. 

As if his words were were a summoning, a girl appeared behind Nicky, one arm snaking around his waist to hold him steady as she kissed the back of his neck above his scarf. "Mm. This is some of the best mulled wine in the world." The scent of warm oranges and spice filled the air. 

Reila turned to look at Nicky, licking her lips at the scent. That voice was the same one that had shouted for her to move earlier. She stared at the newcomer. The girl was tall- a full head taller than Nicky and Reila. Loose black curls tumbled from her pink woolen hat. The hat was stretched and stuffed, as if the girl had a lot more hair tucked up under it, like she was hiding something up there. Her coat was dark gray and the same style as Nicky's, minus the fur. A long, heavy woolen skirt dragged on the ground, hiding her feet. The hem was wet and dusted with snow. 

Bright, icy blue eyes met Reila's own, freezing her down to the marrow of her bones. Reila shivered, those eyes holding her captive. The girl smirked, holding the cup out. "You're Nicky's little friend, the diaper girl. Want a sip?" 

"I don't need diapers you fucking bitch. Give me that." Reila's face flushed red with remembered humiliation, recalling the plane incident and the huge, soft diaper forcing her legs apart in an embarrassing waddle. She snatched at the cup of steaming mulled wine. 

The girl in the pink hat pulled it away just as Reila's fingertips brushed the warm styrofoam. "Just kidding! Babies who take their diapees off and go pee-pee everywhere aren't ready for grown up drinks like this." She took a long drink of the wine, eyes dancing in mirth over the rim of her cup. 

"The fuck you just say? How the hell you know that?!" Reila demanded, fists balling as she stared at those mocking eyes. She wanted to punch the bitch in her smiling face then cram the damn up down her fucking throat for making fun of her. The fact that this stranger knew of her humiliation burned, adding more fuel to the fire. 

"Enough! Azrael, be nice!" Nicky hollered, his big, dark eyes round as if he even surprised himself with his outburst. Both girls stared at him, surprised at the timid, disabled girly boy speaking up. He blushed when he realized two sets of eyes focused on him; he shyly lowered his gaze to the snowy tips of his boots and crutches. "Reila, this is Azrael Ruprecht. Az, this is Reila." He spoke softly, not looking up as he introduced the two. "She knows because of Aunt Emma Jean." 

That name and the haunting memory of neon pink velour smothered Reila's anger under a thick blanket of humiliation. Her cheeks went from angry fire engine red to the rosey pink of shame. So, the diapered gimp was that awful woman's niece. Nephew. Figures. Would she treat Nicky just like she did her own daughter Rachel? Reila shivered at the thought. That wretched woman probably told all and sundry about her plane ride and the autistic girl who ripped her diaper off, peed on another passenger and locked herself in the bathroom. Reila wanted the ground to open up and swallow her at those memories. 

"Good old Aunt Emma Jean, the mayor of Crazy Town." The girl in the pink hat, Azrael, curled her upper lip in distaste. 

"She's…she means well." Nicky softly countered with a grimace. Aunt Emma Jean had come down from Munich with some other family members for the holidays. After the bathroom incident on the plane, Emma Jean hadn't seen Sonja and Reila at departure due to a large crowd and they travelled in different directions. But now Emma Jean was down here in the same small rural village. 

"She's a fucking psycho. I didn't rip my diaper off. Pull-up!" Reila blurted, momentarily forgetting about her fight with the other girl. She was overjoyed someone else finally shared her view on the neon pink nightmare. 

Az smiled at her outburst, but said nothing. She held the warm wine up to Nicky's pink lips. "Baby Nicky want's a sip?" The styrofoam rim pressed into the soft flesh of his lower lip in teasing invitation. 

Nicky turned his head away from the cup, pouting up at her. "Be nice." He chided. 

She rolled her eyes and took another drink. "You're no fun, baby boy." He blushed at the endearment. 

"Azrael's not a German name." Reila glared at the wine cup. Bitch wouldn't let her have any, but she'd share with the cripple? 

"German on my father's side, only partially German on my mother's. She named me." Az grinned, delighted Reila had noticed. 

"She's named after the angel of death." Nicky supplied in a low mumble. 

"That's fucked up. Your mom worship satan or something?" Reila stared in shock. Nicky winced at her blunt rudeness. 

Az just laughed. "She's a demon. Mostly. Little bit of Krampus in her bloodline, too." 

Reila glared, realizing Az was having a joke at her expense. "You're a bitch." 

"It's the Gospel Truth." Az snorted, raising her cup up in a silent toast to Reila before taking a long pull of the spicy brew. "Ah, yeah. That's the stuff." She licked her lips appreciatively. "Worth coming here every year just for this." She drained the rest of her cup then tossed it into a nearby garbage can. 

"Let's try to get along?" Nicky asked in exasperation. He shifted his weight on his crutches, snow crunching under his boots along with the loud rustle of his diaper. 

"Reila's not a German name, either." Az said, lips pulling back to reveal very white, very sharp looking teeth. A dentist's wet dream, right before she bit his fingers off. 

"My stupid mother named me after a fucking lame song. So what?" Reila crossed her arms in challenge. 

"It's not much of a name, is it?"

"Az." Nicky chided softly like a child trying to reprimand his mother. 

"What?" Az replied sweetly. 

"It's a perfectly fine name!" Reila stamped an angry foot. She felt her jeans brush over her bare privates and backside. The coarse material agitated the bruises on her buttocks and she winced. 

"It's nonsensical. No tradition, no heritage. You've clearly lost touch with your heritage." Az spoke this part in German. 

Reila narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?" 

"Exactly." Az grinned, using English this time. 

"You're both incorrigible." Nicky rolled his eyes. 

Az laughed. "This truly is the best night of the year." She turned her head to the empty lane lined with people on both sides. The wind blew her long, dark curls about her. 

"It's fucking stupid. I'm freezing my ass off just to watch drunk morons in monster costumes run around." Reila stomped her feet. Her legs stung from the cold wing, flesh tingling despite the waves of heat from the roaring bonfire. Fingers of icy wind punctuated the fire's warmth, creeping through her pants to her bare crotch. For a fleeting moment, she wished she had the padding of a pull-up as a barrier. Even those horrible thick diapers would have kept her privates warm. 

Thinking of diapers made her remember her bladder; she looked around the crowd but could not see a bathroom. She was just going to have to hold it. Reila scowled. She didn't have to go that bad. Not yet, anyway. She wished she'd worn a pull-up. Just in case. Not that she needed one. How long could a stupid parade last? She'd be fine. 

Az snorted as if Reila said something stupid. "You don't get it, do you? It's the spirit of the people." She swept an arm out, gesturing to the crowd around them. "Look at their faces. Feel the excitement. Tonight, we revel in darkness. Celebrate sinful wickedness." 

"Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes at Az's melodramatics. "That's Halloween, fucking idiot. This is Christmas crap." The girl was getting on Reila's nerves. She'd rather keep company with overly cheerful, jolly, crippled, pants shitting, cross-dressing Nicky. Reila thought she was prettier than Az, but the bitch had bigger boobs and curvy hips. 

"Well, both do have roots in the same spiritual systems." 

"The fuck you talking about? Crazy bitch." Reila sneered. 

"Old, pagan Celtic and Christian beliefs coupled together. Some Christmas traditions have pagan roots. Blasphemous, yes?" Her eerie eyes danced, momentarily flashing brilliant blue with the flames of an eternal hellfire. 

Reila blinked, shuddering, suddenly cold all over. She stomped her feet some more, crunching snow, trying to get warm. She felt cold from the inside out, despite the wall of heat from the fire. Surely the brief glow in Az's eyes was a trick of the firelight, the night and surrounding snow. 

"Az. Christmas Eve is the best night. This time of year is all about the Christmas spirit. Joy, love, forgiveness, salvation, hope. Redemption." Nicky's gaze flicked to Reila on that last word. "It's what Santa and children's joy represent. We should embrace life as a child does Christmas morning." 

Az and Reila both rolled their eyes, saw each other doing it, then sneered at one another behind Nicky's back. 

"Yeah, yeah." Az said in a dismissive, bored tone as if she'd heard that lecture countless times before. "How's your diapee?" Without waiting for a reply, she lifted the back of his pretty, girly red coat to expose his visibly well-padded backside. The metal on his leg braces reflected orange flames of the bonfire. She cupped the bulging padding with her whole hand, squeezing the obvious diaper bulge. His thick diaper crinkled loudly; the red and white candy cane striped waistband of his diaper peeked out of his pants, leaving no doubt about his diapered condition. Az pulled the back of his diaper and pants out, peering down into his diaper. 

"Nope, no poopies yet. You're just a little wet." She cheerfully announced. Nicky blushed, looking around. People nearby were staring at the disabled boy getting his diaper checked. Nicky stared at them; upon meeting his gaze, they hastily looked away in embarrassment. 

Reila stared as well. Part of her wanted to gloat at Nicky's public diaper check, but she remembered the horrible ruckus Emma Jean had caused her on the airplane. She knew Nicky's humiliation all too well. Temptation to tease him danced on the tip of her 
tongue, but then the demonic bitch might make comments about Reila's diapers and pants-wetting. She blushed just thinking about it. 

"Az." Nicky whined softly in protest while the girl fixed his coat once more. She patted his padded backside. Because of his braces and crutches on the uneven snow, he couldn't even squirm away. 

"You're a good baby, Nicky." Az kissed his pink cheek. "How about you, Riley?" She leered at Reila's waist in imitation of the drunken man who had checked Reila out earlier. "Looks like some naughty girl didn't wear her diapees. Do you need to potty? Or you just gonna go pee-pees in your pants again? Maybe you do it to get mommy's attention?"

"Fucking cunt. You're as fucking crazy as Emma Jean," Reila snarled, anger flaring up at the taunting. 

"You're wrong about tonight!" Nicky spat out quickly to interrupt before a fight could break out. "This is an old tradition about encouraging goodness. A warning to turn from sin. Punishments for being naughty." Again, Nicky looked at Reila as he spoke even though it was Azrael who was provoking her. 

"Fuck you. Whatever. Who gives a shit? Just a fucking lame excuse for the village idiots to run around like drunk frat boys playing dress up." Reila ignored Nicky, her glare focused on Azrael. 

She wanted to punch the bitch's smug face and make her shut up. Kick her fucking cunt ass a good one. Doing that would only land Reila in jail and in front of a judge. Again. She didn't know how different the German court was from American court. And Uschi would undoubtedly beat her again. She cringed, suppressing the urge to rub her abused butt; more scared of great great grandma Uschi and her blue cane than she was of any police officer with handcuffs. 

"The parade should be starting soon." Nicky piped up, trying to break the tension. "Saint Nick gives candy to the kids and Krampus gives birch branches." 

"For old fashioned spankings." Az chuckled darkly and Reila shivered, thinking of Uschi's blue cane. Her bruised bottom twinged; she reflexively covered her butt. Az smiled at her as if knew what Reila was thinking. 

The icy wind picked up. Nicky shivered, leaning closer to Azrael as if searching for warmth. Az wrapped an arm around his tiny waist, pulling Nicky close to her. Reila shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her bladder twinged faintly and she thought of looking for a bathroom. 

"Traditionally, Krampus dragged the really naughty kids to hell. Sometimes he ate them." Azrael bared her teeth then playfully pretended to bite at Nicky's neck; he squeaked softly in protest. 

"That's horrible." Nicky was appalled. 

"Hey, it worked. Scared the rotten little shits into behaving." Az laughed, delighted. 

Reila ignored them both

"So, Riley baby, are you afraid of Krampus? Of being on the naughty list?"

"Whatever." Reila rolled her eyes, brushing the teasing off. She would not let that uppity bitch get her into trouble. 

Bells suddenly rang out in the noisy night.

Heavy, clunky cow bells clanked chased by the dainty chime of sweet silver bells. Mixed in was the dull clank of thick metal chains. The clanking, chiming and clunking mixed together in a raucous, off-note cacophony. The crowd suddenly jostled one another, all turning their attention to the empty lanes in anticipation of the pagan parade. 

"Here they come!" Nicky exclaimed as the bells grew louder, drowning out the chatter of the crowd and the sharp crackles of the bonfires. The holiday parade appeared around a bend in the lane. Reila looked as well, swept up in the anticipation of the people surrounding her. 
Saint Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra, led the way. He was garbed in the traditional vestments of his station; a richly embroidered robe and warm cloak, a red mitre had that rose to a peak and was embroidered with cross in gold thread, and a curled, wooden shepherd's staff twisted with dainty silver bells. His red cloak and white, curly beard fluttered in the winter wind. His white robe was bright in the dark night and bonfire glow. At his side hung a red velvet bag trimmed in gold rope. Kids in the crowd squealed with delight at the sight of him. He reached into his bag, drawing out handfuls of candy and tossing them to the children, who scrambled around the feet of adults to grab as much candy as their little hands could hold. 

Behind St. Nick trudged an ambling, haphazard march of furry, horned monsters. They came in a wide variety; white, brown, black, beige and burlap sacks hung from their sides. Horns twisted high into the hair. Some carried chains they rattled in the air and smacked off the pavement while others swung large cow bells. Maybe it was the noise, the atmosphere, or the dark of night, but the realism of the costumes would do a Hollywood horror movie proud. They looked like a legion of demons freed from the bowels of hell. 

Children scrabbled to pick candy up from the snow or catch it in mid air as St. Nicholas threw it. The Krampuses were waiting; they jumped forward, huge claws extended. The kids screamed in terror, dashing behind their parents' legs for safety then giggling madly. Some boldly darted back out to snatch up dropped treats before other children could. Only to find another Krampus there to tease them with monstrous claws. The Krampuses tossed little bundles of gold painted birch twigs to parents and at the children cowering in the crowd. Treats for being good and rods to remind them what awaits for naughtychildren. 

The monsters staggered drunkenly about. Some of them tilted their heads back and howled at the newly risen moon. They darted all over the empty lane, ping-ponging madly between both sides of the crowd and randomly tossing out birch bundles. Saint Nick, on the other hand, calmly walked down the procession way tossing out candy. 

Reila stared down the snowy lane at the approaching, strange spectacle. She was not sure what she'd expected- certainly nothing like this. She hadn't given it much thought. Maybe something like an American parade with floats and crappy costumes as they calmly, orderly marched past, waving to the crowd and tossing out candy. Certainly nothing like this! Halloween horror led by a priest. No fat man in red suit, no "ho ho hos". Not American at all. 

Next to her, Nicky squeaked softly in excitement like a shy little girl. "Az, save me!" He giggled as she wrapped her arms around his quivering body. He shook, partially in excitement and partially in fear. Az just smiled and stayed silent, basking in the festive glow as if she thought the procession was held for her, like the honoree at a party. 

Reila crossed her arms and sneered, trying to escape from the atmosphere around her, threatening to swallow her. Maybe it was the cold, snowy darkness, being alone in a small, weird alpine village and barely able to speak the local language, the cheers and screams of the crowd, but those costumes seemed so real. She shivered, clutching her legs together to suppress the dull urge to pee.

She could easily believe those drunken morons in furry horned suits were real monsters as they howled, clanged their chains, chased little children and pretty young girls who screeched and giggled. Parents laughed and shoved their small children into the monsters' path; the children screamed and darted away from outstretched claws. Helter-skelter chaos with St. Nick as a calm center point. 

The weirdest looking St. Nick she'd ever seen. He looked like some kind of priest. Aside from the flowing white beard, he had nothing in common with his fat, red-suited American counter part. As the bizarre procession drew closer, the people surrounding her bursting with barely held anticipation. Styrofoam cups were raised in a raucous toast, their gutteral foreign words buzzing in her ears. 

The Bishop of Myra held her full attention as he paused in his serene stroll amid the dancing and hooting horned monsters. Reila stared as he approached a woman. Her heart thumped oddly when she realized it was her mother. St. Nick extended a hand full of candy to Sonja, who warily stepped back and stared at his bearded face. After a moment she smiled and warmly accepted the candy. 

Reila scowled, squinting into the darkness, suspicion curling in her stomach. There had been no mention of Hans on this parade night, and Sonja had been mooning over him like a love sick schoolgirl. St. Nick leaned in close, saying something that made Sonja throw her head back in her flirty horsey laugh. Like she did every time Hans was around. 

"That bastard." Reila growled, anger burning through her veins, heating her up from the inside like an inferno ready to burst. She was too incensed to feel the bite of the cold. That bastard was dressed up as Saint Nick and shamelessly flirting with her moronic mother. She knew it was him, down to the core of her being. She wanted to storm over there and rip his fake beard off and ram it down his throat. The last thing she needed was her mother to get involved with another dick-of-the-month, especially one that went around saying she reeked of pee and insisted she needed diapers. 

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"Oh, hey, it's Hans!" Nicky chirped, following Reila's glower. If he didn't have to hold on to his crutches, he would have raised a hand and waved. 

"He makes a convincing St. Nick. The kiddies just love him." Az's lips curled up with mischief. "So does your mom. She's the one next to Uschi? By the blue cane?" 

"Yes, that's Sonja." Nicky confirmed. Reila shifted, squeezing her thighs together to quell the gentle insistence of her bladder. She was going to have to pee, and soon. She could hold it; she'd kept her panties dry for two whole days. In Uschi's house, always near a bathroom. Maybe she should've worn a pull-up? Doing so would only prove that bastard Hans right; she really did need diapers, just like Nicky. Her eyes narrowed as she watched her mother and great, great grandmother laugh at something Hans had said. 

"They look good together. Even Uschi likes him." Az's voice whispered in her ear; she could smell the mulled wine and spices on her breath as the girl leaned down, their heads almost touching. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Reila jerked away with a snarl. 

Az stood back up to her imposing height while Nicky tilted his head back, frowning up at her. Az grinned at Reila. "Temper, temper. Somebody doesn't want mommy dating." 

"I'm fucking sick of that whore always dragging home a new dick of the week every time I turn around. She brings me to this fucking frozen hellhole and she still doesn't change." Reila stomped a foot, wishing she had stayed with her mother and great great grandmother so she could chase Hans off. Sonja's attempts at dating consisted of going out to bars and bringing home one night stands. Then she would lecture Reila on her promiscuous clothing. "Fucking hypocrite." 

"Aww. Poor baby." 

"Azrael! Enough, please. It obviously upsets her." Nicky shifted on his crutches with a loud crinkle of his diaper, then leaned back against Az as he started to grow tired. She tightened her hold around his tiny waist, her taller body supporting some of his slight weight. 

"My mother was never around much, yet I'm not hell bent on making her life miserable." Az rolled her eyes at what she considered to be Reila's immature antics. "Your mother didn't want you, either, and you don't throw tantrums like an overgrown toddler." 

Nicky closed his eyes, wincing as if she'd physically jabbed him. "It's….she..it…was just…hard with a kid like me…." He mumbled softly, pressing his slender, feminine body further into Az, seeking comfort as he weakly tried to excuse his mother. 

"She left because of you, Nicky. She ditched cuz she didn't wanna be saddled with a sickly kid." Az's voice was flat and matter-of-fact. Nicky winced again, each word hurting like a physical blow. His long, inky lashes trembled against his alabaster skin. He bit his soft, pink lip, trying to stop himself from crying. He turned his head to the side, wishing he could turn around and bury his face in Az's shoulder. 

Reila partially listened, turning her attention away from the asshole flirting with her rutting slut of a mother. Az's words hammered into her; her father unexpectedly popped into her own thoughts. He had been in an out of their lives when Reila was little, before landing himself locked up for life. It was her fault he never stayed. As a little girl, she was not good enough, not pretty enough to make him love her enough to stay. She had chased her daddy away. As a budding preteen, she had stopped caring about being good. Being good, trying to please others got her nowhere. So, fuck them all. She'd look out for herself and fuck everyone else. 

"I-I'm s-sorry." Nicky whispered, his soft, trembling voice was drowned out by the clanking bells, hooting monsters and shrieking crowd. 

"Nicky." Azrael hugged him tight. She grimaced, realizing her ill-chosen words had wounded the fragile boy. "Shh. I'm sorry." She gently wiped his tears away with a gloved hand. She leaned down to press a kiss to each soft cheek. "I didn't mean it like that. Her problems are her own, and nothing you did. But I'm glad she left you." 

"A-az?" Nicky sniffled a little, swallowing his tears and wiping at his eyes. 

"If she stayed, you'd never have come into my life." 

Nicky blushed, closing his eyes again. He said nothing, but a small, shaky smile tugged at his plump, pink lips. Az saw and she smiled as well, nipping playfully at Nicky's ear, making him giggle and try to squirm. 

"Go get a room. You're as disgusting as them." Reila jerked her head in the direction of Hans and Sonja. 

Az raised her head, annoyed at being interrupted. "Still upset about mommy? You wanna talk about it, baby pants?" 

"It..it might help you feel better." Nicky offered with a sweet smile, trying to salvage goading, to turn her teasing into an actual offer of help. 

Reila's face flushed at the term. "Shut up! He's the pants shitter, not me!" 

"And you're the pants pisser. Nicky's a good baby who keeps his diapers on. Unlike someone else." Azrael bared her sharp-looking teeth in a feral smile. 

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Reila snarled, raising her fist threateningly. 

Nicky's eyes widened in fear. "Please." He spoke softly, wishing he could run, but he was trapped between the two females and only had Azrael for protection. He looked into Reila's burning eyes, seeing that defensive hatred blazing. He shrank back, pressing into Azrael. "Don't you want your mother to have someone special in her life?" He asked boldly, trying to distract her. 

"I'll take that as a no. How very selfish of you." Azrael cooed in a mocking sing-song voice, taunting her. "Baby pants gonna punch me? You really should stop and check that childish temper, or you're going to wind up on the permanent naughty list." 

"SHUT UP! I don't care about that whore!" Reila turned her attention to Nicky, aiming for his face and swung. Instead of defusing her, he'd only managed to set her off and redirect her anger onto him. He was smaller than Azrael, and he would not be able to dodge. A perfect punching bag for her anger. She could hit him then knock Azrael over. Besides, he was a boy and it was okay for girls to hit boys, but he couldn't hit her back.

Azrael moved unnaturally fast, moving from behind Nicky to in front of him and catching Reila's fist mid-swing. Her hand was bigger, covering Reila's own. She squeezed, crunching Reila's clenched fingers, trapping her hand. 

"What the fucking hell? Let go!" Reila snarled, trying to jerk her hand free but Az's grip was like a metal vice. 

"You were going to hit Nicky." Azrael stared down at Reila incredulously. "You were really going to hit my helpless baby." 

Azrael bared her sharp teeth in a silent, threatening snarl as she glowered down at Reila, towering over the shorter girl. "You were mad at me, and you took it out on Nicky. He can't fight back." Her voice deepened to a guttural growl as she leaned down, face close to Reila's. 

Fear washed over Reila, drowning out her anger. Her eyes widened at the promise of violence and retribution in Az's eyes, and at her increasing need to pee. Her bladder twinged more in urgency. Even not drinking much, her body still produced urine. After a period of time, she would have to pee. She never planned on being gone this long. Her inner thighs pressed together, squeezing her bladder muscles to prevent herself peeing her pants. She tugged, trying to free the wrist Azrael held, but the bitch's grip was like iron. "Let me go!" She snarled right back, her ferocity undermined by a high pitch tone of fear and desperation. 

"You're a selfish, childish little bitch who is to stupid to check your infantile temper. " Az's snarl curled into a feral, mocking grin. "Grow up, little girl, or you're going to end up on the permanent naughty list-" 

"LET GO!" Reila tugged, desperation growing. She leaned backwards; Azrael merely raised her arm, pulling up on Reila's arm, forcing her up onto her tiptoes. Reila yelped at the sudden, jerking motion. She teetered, off balance. She managed to regain her footing in the snow just as her bladder twinged. She hunched forward, legs squeezed together to stop the flow just in time. 

Az tilted her head back and laughed as if she knew Reila was struggling not to pee. The sharp, taunting bark of her laughter was louder than the mingled shouts, squeals, jingling bells and rattling chains of the approaching parade. 

"Az, please. It's alright." Nicky pleaded tugging on Az's coat. She stopped laughing, but she didn't let go of Reila's hand. 

"FUCKING BITCH!" Reila found secure footing, legs squeezed together. She swung with her free hand, punch aimed up at Azrael's face. If the psychotic cunt wouldn't let her go, Reila would make her let go. 

With a sneer and roll of her eyes, Azrael easily caught Reila's swing with a casual flick of her wrist. "I've had it with you. Right here, right now, I'm going to-" 

"Azrael! It's not time!" Nicky hollered, tugging insistantly on Reila's sleeve as if eh was fearful Az was going to let something very important slip. 

"Nicky." Az whirled, sneer plastered to her face as if her patience strained. Nicky flinched, dainty hands dropping from Az's coat. "Does somebody want his binky?" The snarl made her coo sound mocking and menacing. Nicky lowered his head. He balanced on his crutches, unable to take a step back. One of Az's hands slipped under Nicky's red coat, squeezing his thickly padded rump through his pants. His diaper crinkled softly. "I don't feel any squishies yet. You didn't go poopies." 

Nicky's face flushed red. "Az!" He whined softly. 

Reila rubbed her sore wrists. Her first instinct was to laugh at the freak girl treating the gimp crossdresser like a big baby, but Azrael sounded so much like an evil Emma Jean that Reila's face paled with memories of that awful flight and that horrible nightmare of a woman in neon pink velour. When she had been the big baby in a big baby diaper, painted as mentally disabled. The cheers and squeals of the crowd, roars of the Krampuses, the clanging of bells and rattling of chains smacking off concrete, all the noise faded as Reila drowned in remembered humiliation. Her heart quickened, face as red as Nicky's. 

Hands shoved her a step backward. Reila's bladder clenched, almost letting loose. "I'm tired of waiting. We'll settle this here and now. You want to punch me? Go ahead, free shot." Azrael towered over her once more, face close. 

Reila backed up several steps to put distance between them. "You're fucking crazy!" 

Azrael laughed, sharp teeth flashing. Her attention suddenly focused on something over Reila's shoulder. She suddenly sneered, pulling back. "We're not finished yet." 

Before Reila could turn and look, figure out what was going on, huge hands suddenly grabbed her around the middle, lifting her into the air, jerking her from her thoughts. 

She caught a swift glimpse of Azrael's sneering face. Hands swung her up and through the air. She glimpsed Hans, dressed up as St. Nicholas. He stood not far away, in the middle of the road, staring impassively at Reila in the clutches of costumed monsters. 

"AHH! LET ME GO! FUCK OFF! LET ME GO YOU FUCKING PERVERTS!" Reila roared, squealing and screaming as she thrashed, struggling to free herself. Her fists pounded on the hairy costumed arms holding her. Her snow crusted boots struck out wildly; she felt them make contact with someone, either her captor or another Krampus. Then hands grabbed her ankles. Her bladder flipped and flopped, the pressure mounting but she clamped down hard and managed to stop the stream. 

The noise of the parade was deafening; a hurricane of sound. Clanging, jangling, and tinkling of bells and chains; the hooting, hollering, roaring drunk young men in monster costumes; the clapping, chattering, laughing, shouting of the crowd, punctuated by the high pitched squeals of children and young women. 

Held aloft in the air for a brief moment that felt frozen in time and chaos, Reila could see out over the chaotic crowd. She had a clear view of Hans, his eyes twinkling merrily at her over the fake white beard. He smiled serenely. Right at her. In that second, Reila knew he was behind this, had somehow put the drunken fools up to it. She snarled, rage turning to raw, unbridled fear as the hands holding her suddenly dipped and flipped her. She felt like she was flying through the air. She screamed and squealed, adding to the raucous cacophony. 

Then, it happened. The huge, furry costumed hands pressed hard right on her straining bladder. She had been successfully fighting the urge to pee throughout her terror and anger. Now, urine cascaded down her legs, soaking her inner thighs and crotch. The warm wetness quickly turned cold in the winter night. Just a little urine flowed from her partially full bladder. Her shoes didn't even get wet. 

Reila froze as she peed, then she squealed, frantically kicking, punching, and twisting her torso, desperate to get away. She needed to get down, get away, get to a bathroom, go home and clean up. The hands held her firm. She was trapped. 


The costumed monsters merely hooted, either ignored her, didn't understand her English, or never heard her. Her cries were lost in the cacophony of the Krampus Run, the Krampuslauf. 

"She pissed herself! The stupid bitch pissed her pants!" The Krampus holding her ankles suddenly dropped them. He spoke in German, too fast for Reila to catch any words. She could hardly concentrate in her upset state. Coupled with all the noise it was hard to concentrate. All she knew was her feet were finally free; she automatically started kicking. She quickly found herself dumped back on the cold, snowy ground so abruptly she stumbled backwards. 

The young men moved on. One of them loomed over a little boy who stood nearby. The boy squealed and darted to the safety of his mother's legs. Another Krampus crouched low and leapt at him. The mom laughed and shoved her child forward. He squealed again, shaking, as the Krampuses howled, jumping up and dancing back to their fellow monsters. Reila wasn't the only one who peed herself; the boy sported wet spots on his pants, under his coat. 

Reila blushed at the sight. She felt like an overgrown baby. Maybe she should have worn a pullup after all. Or even a diaper. Her pants would still be dry then. She was just like Nicky and that little boy afterall. She shrunk in on herself, sinking back through the dense, riotous crowd. Her wet pants quickly turned cold in the frigid night air. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering and drifting from the warmth and light of the bonfires. 

She was glad Hans had moved on. Humiliation and damp, icy pants doused her blazing hatred into soggy ashes. He was a bastard and this was all his fault, but she couldn't deal with him at the moment. She needed to get home and change. What would Azrael say? She stiffened at the thought, raising her head and looking frantically through the throng of people. The two were gone. Maybe they'd moved? They couldn't have gone far, especially with Nicky's braces and crutches in the snowy, icy street. She glanced around; no sight of them. Yet none of the crowd had moved into their spot. It stood vacant, a strange hole in the crowd, right at the front of the parade. 

Frowning, Reila wove her way back to the strange gap in the throng of people. It was as if Azrael and Nicky had just poofed, vanishing into thin air. She pushed people out of her way, but no one seemed to mind. They were too busy cheering and jostling each other, swept up in the noise and excitement of the Krampuslauf. People barely noticed the girl in wet pants. 

There, in their vacant spot, Reila found two sets of footprints in the snow. Nicky's bootprints with the awkwardly placed feet coupled with round holes from his crutches. Behind the, where Azrael had stood, was a set of cloven hoof prints, as if from the hindlegs of a very large, bipedal goat. 

Quick note- my computer was being a butt (or I was being an technological noob)- but long story short, in gluhwein, the umlauts over the "u" have been left out. 

The old bat was bat shit insane. Reila stared with wide eyes as her great great grandmother poured yet another bottle of red wine into a huge copper pot on the stove. That stove looked as old as Uschi, like everything else in the old house. Reila shifted on the hard wood of her chair; pain flared, fire burning every nerve ending in her tender, freshly bruised backside. The thin pull up under her jeans offered little padding. She sat at a small corner table in the kitchen, well away from Uschi's blue cane. 

Several weeks had passed since the Krampuslauf, and she was still reeling from it. Her whole life had changed dramatically since moving here. She missed America. She'd had friends- sort of. Girls she hung out with, even if they were always sticking knives in each other's backs. More than that, Reila had the freedom to do what she pleased when she pleased, which had frequently led to her getting in trouble; underage drinking, experimenting with drugs, shoplifting from the local mall. Petty things; things any normal teenager would get into. Sonja and the American legal system had not seen it that way, but they just didn't understand Reila or her needs. 

Here, Reila had chores. Uschi insisted. Reila had refused, resulting in a spectacular clash of iron wills and a bounty of bruises on her butt. Reila has thrown laundry soap all over the floor when Uschi and a stuttering Sonja tried to teach her how to wash clothes. Retaliation via Uschi's cane came swift and hard. Instead of washing dishes, Reila threw them on the floor, breaking several plates. Uschi beat her hard and long until both of them were exhausted. Then she made a sobbing, shaking, pee-soaked Reila clean up the mess. After that, a compromise of sorts had been reached; Reila shadowed Sonja, helping her mother out- which meant Reila half assed it, forcing Sonja to do the actual job. Sonja said nothing of it to Uschi, keeping her mouth shut so Uschi's cane stayed off her daughter's backside. 

Reila winced in pain. Even now, she could barely sit. A super thick diaper like Nicky wore would have saved her backside some serious bruising. After that horrible, awful night at the Krampuslauf, Reila had been diligent about keeping her pull ups on. Just in case. They stayed dry, for the most part. Sort of. Okay, so she'd had several accidents and maybe she really did need them. When sleeping, she always woke up wet. During the day, when she was scared or nervous or angry or anywhere near Uschi's cane, her bladder let loose. 

Reila's bruised backside burned as the unyielding wood pressed her soft, dry pull up against her discolored flesh. She winced, shifting around again. The pull up made no noise. The myriad of vast bruises from her multiple beatings were a rainbow of colors, in various stages of healing. The first ones from the borscht-suzle incident were yellow and fading. Others were freshly swollen, angry and red while others had turned shades of plum and blueberry. She moved slow, stiff and sore, which had helped curb her instinctive rebellious bite. 

Sonja sat across from Reila, stirring a mix of spices in a big bowl. She saw the look on her daughter's face as Reila watched Uschi pour another wine bottle into the pot. "Uschi's making gluhwein." She said in a low voice. Over the weeks, a German accent had creeped into her throat when she spoke English. Her German became more quick and fluent the more she used it. Even Reila had picked up more words, didn't have to concentrate as hard when people spoke to her in German. 

"Glue wine? The fuck is that? More weird shit like that horrible head cheese?" 

Sonja sighed, wooden mixing spoon tinging off the side of the bowl. Reila's tongue was sharp as ever, even if Uschi's cane had slowed down her physical tantrums. Sonja still did not approve of Uschi's discipline, but she no longer argued against it. It had gotten better results than her own numerous verbal lectures had. So maybe Uschi was right after all? Uschi had old fashioned, old world discipline; she did not negotiate or reason or explain. She gave an order once and expected to be obeyed. "Because I said so" was reason enough. But Sonja still felt like they weren't getting through to Reila. Was there any way to reach her? Was her daughter as broken as her father was? 

Sonja looked longingly at all the empty bottles of wine, wishing she could pour some of it down her throat. "Gluhwein. It means glow wine. It's mulled wine." 

"And that is?" Reila raised an eyebrow with an exasperated look on her face because Sonja was not explaining things clearly enough for her. 

"A traditional Christmas drink. Wine mulled…cooked…with spices." Sonja tilted her mixing bowl towards Reila so she could have a better view. "Cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg. Things like that." She went back to mixing, letting Reila's snippy attitude slide. It was disrespectful, and Uschi would never tolerate it, but Reila had been through so much these past couple weeks. Moving to another country, culture shock. Her increased wettings were surely a sign of all that stress. Sonja tried to be patient, understanding, and forgiving. Things a mother should be, right? 

"Oh. That…actually sounds good."

Sonja said nothing in reply. She just kept mixing the spices to Uschi's standards. Telling Reila she was not allowed to drink would only spark a tantrum. Technically, Reila was allowed to drink over here. In America, she was still too young. In Germany, Reila may have been of legal age, but given her track record, Sonja thought- legal or not- it was a bad idea. 

Uschi shuffled over to the table and Sonja handed her the mulling mix. Uschi checked Sonja's work, making sure the spices were evenly mixed. She nodded her approval. "Good girl. Yes, just like this." She smiled, speaking in German. She carried the bowl to the pot, lifting the lid. Seeing the wine boiling, she dumped the spices in and stirred. "You see? It's very easy to make. Trickier to make just right." She smiled at Sonja then added. "My gluhwein is Hans' favorite." 

Sonja blushed, cheeks glowing, and she suddenly became very interested in studying the grain of the wooden table. 

Reila missed most of Uschi's German words, but she caught Hans' name. Her head shot up and she saw Sonja's reaction. She scowled but dared say nothing. Not with Uschi in the room. 

"Homemade wine is the best, of course." Uschi stirred and explain to Sonja, teaching her. "You can vary the spices to change the taste. None of those lazy, modern shortcuts. Pre-mixed spices. Pre-made gluhwein. Bah! Lazy, lazy! Not as tasty." Uschi snorted in derision as she kept stirring the spices. 

"It doesn't look hard…I might actually be able to do it." Sonja joked weakly. Uschi had been teaching her cooking from scratch, and so far it had been a disaster. The scent of spices wafted into the air as Uschi lifted the lid on the bubbling brew. Helping Uschi cook over the past weeks had helped her kitchen skills improve marginally. 

"A good skill for any good, traditional German woman. Especially around the holidays. The better the gluhwein flavor, the better the skills of the hostess." 

Reila scrunched her face up, listening and straining to make out the words. Her listening skills had improved somewhat, due to being immersed and surrounded by German, but her mental translation was still slow. Times like now made her wish she would've let Sonja teach her German. What were they talking about now? Hans? She hadn't heard his name mentioned again, unless she'd missed it. Uschi kept gesturing to the pot, so maybe it was that yummy smelling wine? 

She wanted to demand they tell her, but Uschi got pissy when Reila interrupted. Said she didn't know her place. Reila thought it was rude of them not to tell her. Leaving her out. But Uschi was not open to arguments or reasoning. Reila's bottom bore testament to that. So she stayed silent, frustration curdling within her. She was in no hurry for more bruises. 

"Oh. That reminds me. I meant to tell you earlier. We're invited to Hans' house tomorrow." Uschi said offhandedly as she sipped at a sampling on mulled wine from her stirring spoon. She smacked her lips appreciatively, nodding in approval to herself.

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This Christmas was going to suck. Stuck in a strange country, strange house, and an old battleaxe fond of hitting people with her cane. Uschi's house was much nicer and bigger than their tiny, run down American apartment, but it didn't feel like home. Reila doubted it ever would. She probably wasn't going to get any presents, either. If she did, it would be something sucky like socks. She could use some new Uggs. Maybe a coat- something stylish yet warm. 

"W-what? H-Han's house?" Sonja squawked, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. 

Torn from her thoughts, Reila's head popped up. 

Uschi smiled. "The holidays can be lonely on your own. I've been spending Christmas with his family for many, many years. It's become something of a tradition. They invited you and Reila this year, too. We'll be bringing the gluhwein since they like my recipe."

Sonja just stared at her great grandmother. She had thought it would be a quiet Christmas- just her, Uschi, and Reila. She'd never thought of how Uschi spent previous holidays all alone. Apparently, the old lady was less alone than she sheemed. 

"Oh, I don't know what to wear!" She fretted. 

"Something pretty for Hans." Uschi smiled. Sonja's face went red at that. 

Reila watched the exchange in German; she took in Sonja's flustered state and Uschi's amusement. Was the old lady teasing her mother? She sighed, shifting her weight and wincing as her bruised bottom protested. She pouted, poking at a spilled bit of cinnamon on the table. Maybe she could get hold of some of that wine? That would improve her Christmas. 

"Hans has a big family. Many relatives. Little Nicky will be there, too." Uschi added. 

Reila scrunched her nose up, scowling. One glance at Uschi's blue cane made her think twice about voicing her displeasure out loud. Great, so she was going to be stuck with the gimpy, cross-dressing diaper boy. What about the freaky bitch that had been with him at the parade? She clenched her teeth. That bitch. Thinking of Azrael conjured up an image of cloven hoofprints in the snow. 

What the hell was that? Boots specifically designed to leave such a mark? An alpine prank to scare little children with? It had been at the Krampuslauf, after all. So obvious and stupid. She snorted; she wasn't falling for it. She rolled her eyes; a joke like that was something Nicky's crazy bitch would do. 

Reila felt a tap on her arm; she shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts. Uschi and Sonja stared at her. "What?" 

"Uschi wants you to go wash up and get to bed early. Tomorrow will be a busy day. She says to make sure you stay in bed since it's Christmas Eve. Santa Claus comes tonight." Sonja smiled a little, speaking in English for her daughter. She knew she had the translation correct, and just chalked the Santa Claus bit up to a joke on Uschi's part, even though Uschi had spoken seriously. 

"I'm not a little kid." Reila sneered. "I'm an adult." Her purpled butt argued otherwise, aching and hot in her pullup. 

Uschi frowned in disapproval at Reila's tone and expression. She scooped the spices out of the steaming pot of mulled wine with a small sieve. 

"Reila, please. Uschi's old and it's been a long day. Just humor her. Give Mommy an easy night for once. Uschi sees you as a child. You really haven't been acting grown up." Sonja's tone was leaden with defeat, expecting an outburst any moment from her daughter. 

'Go to hell' was on the tip of Reila's tongue. She shifted ono the chair, her weight rolling onto a particularly fresh bruise. Hot pain burst over her backside like fireworks exploding. She winced and glanced at Uschi, who stirred her mulled wine. Reila didn't want another round with the old bat's cane. She was surprisingly strong and nimble for a fossil. Weren't geriatric people supposed to be slow and fragile? Her blue cane hung nearby in easy reach. Fear strangled her anger. 

"Whatever. Tomorrow's gonna suck dick, so I don't give a shit." Reila stood fast then cringed as her buttocks spasmed in protest. A few drips of warm pee spurted out. She hunched over, legs squeezed together, clenching with all her might to stop the unexpected, sudden flow. Instead of flouncing out with her head high, Reila shuffled out, hands clutching her crotch with her thighs squeezed together. 

As the kitchen door swung shut behind Reila, Uschi clucked her tongue and spoke in German. "Little girl's been behaving better, but it might not be enough."

"Enough for what?" Sonja asked in confusion, wondering if she'd misunderstood. 

Uschi just smiled and shook her head. 


Reila woke with a start. She tensed in the warm cocoon of her blankets, ears straining in the silent night. Only the creaking of the old house in the winter wind could be heard. Uschi and Sonja were sound asleep The window panes rattled and the house groaned its advanced age like an arthritic old man. Thump, thump, thump went something large and heavy across the roof along with a faint jingling. 

She sucked in a sharp breath, hands fisting in the blankets. What was that? A robber? She recalled all the stories on the American news of burglars who killed their victims to leave no witnesses. Hot urine spurted into her warm, swollen pullup but she barely noticed. 

Several more thumps then silence. A robber on Christmas Eve? On the steep, snowy and icy roof? Maybe it was just a stray branch from one of the big trees blowing in the wind and hitting into the roof. She looked out the frosty window; branches swayed, but nowhere near hard enough to thump off the roof that hard. It had to be a robber. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She should get up, call 911. What was the emergency number for Germany? Did this backwater shithole even have one? She could call the police station, but she didn't know that number either. 

The wind died down and the house settled. All was calm. Her heart eventually slowed and she started to think she just imagined the noises. Just part of the house settling down, right? A faint scratching, scrabbling sound echoed from somewhere inside the house, something hard scraping against stone. The robber coming down the chimney. That fucker would be inside any moment to kill them all. 

If she screamed, she'd give herself away. No time to wake her mom or great great grandmother up. No time to fuck with the phone and wait for help, if she could even get any help. That mother fucker was in the chimney; if she moved fast enough, she could get the drop on him. She could take him out and prove just how much of an adult she was. Then, Uschi and Sonja couldn't bitch about her attitude or her pullups anymore. 

Her heart lodged in her throat, but she forced a smirk and swung her legs to the floor. The wooden boards were cold under her bare feet and her sodden pullup sagged down her hips, pulled down from the weight of her pee. Cold air slipped between the saggy gaps in the waistband and leg gatherings, brushing over her pee-wet privates. She shivered, yet more pee spurting out. A few drops trickled out of the pull up and down her thighs. She didn't notice; too intent on gathering her courage to stop the murderous robber. 

The faint scratching in the chimney increased, like mice startled into a scurrying frenzy. Her heart sped up in time with the scraping. Her fingers fumbled with the bedside lamp. She pulled on the small chain with a click then soft yellow light flooded the room. She squinted as her eyes adjusted. 

She needed a weapon…she cast frantically about the room cluttered with antiques and junk older than Uschi; clutter from the past generations that had called this house home. This wasn't her room; it would never feel like hers. Here, she had no sanctuary, no safespace filled with her familiar, comforting things. 

Her partially unpacked suitcase lay open, spilling a mix of dirty and clean, balled up clothes on the floor by a dresser. An owl statue perched on top of the dresser next to an old cigar box. She had knocked the owl over in one of her tirades; it was solid and heavy. Perfect for bashing a skull in. 

Reila tried to tiptoe as quietly as she could, but the heavy sag of her saturated pullup forced her into a wide waddle. Scowling, she lifted her mint green nightshirt and yanked the pullup off. It plopped to the floor with a squishy thud. Cold air washed over her now bare, pee-damp privates; she shivered. A few more drops of pee trickled down her thighs as she rushed to the dresser. 

The owl felt like a heavy block of cement. Solid and reassuring. The scraping sounds in the chimney started up again, sounding lower this time. The burglar was working his way down; soon he' be loose in the house and she'd be screwed. She hurried through the darkened house, her nightshirt fluttering around her hips, inner thighs sticky with drying urine. She clutched the owl statue to her chest as she fumbled in the dark, stumbling and bumping into walls, doors, and furniture in her rush. 

Weak moonlight spilled through the windows, providing her with a little bit of light to see by as she fumbled through the house. The living room was dark and silent as the rest of the house. Even the dark shadows cast by the moonlight were still. The Christmas tree in the corner loomed like a giant, shaggy monster. 

Odd green and red lights shone from up in the chimney. A weird flashlight? The light spilling out from the chimney cast sharp shadows in the gloom. Bits of soot, dust and brick rained down into the clean fireplace. A cloud of dust swirled up. The scratching grew louder and louder as the intruder drew closer and closer. More dust and bits fell. 

Reila's heart thudded. Her legs trembled as she slunk to the fireplace. The muscles in her arms ached under the owl's heavy weight as she struggled to lift it up over her head, ready to bash the would-be burglar. So close to the fireplace, dust tickled her nose and she struggled not to sneeze. She bit her lip, eyes watering. 

A faint jingling could be heard underneath all that scratching and scraping. The noises were right above her head. "HO! HO! HO!" A vaguely familiar, feminine voice boomed out. The hem of a long, red skirt trimmed in black fur appeared. Legs kicked, making the hem flutter and revealing two huge, polished cloven hooves. 

"Up on the housetop, click click click. Down through the chimney with good Saint Nick!" The feminine voice sang out sweetly. The jingling of bells grew louder, chiming along with the melody. The hooves landed with a thump, skirt fluttering and dust cloud billowing out of the fireplace. 

"Well, not exactly. But I've got his grandson with me. Gruss von Krampus! Greetings from Krampus! That's more appropriate." The smug, goading voice suddenly clicked. Azrael.


Reila opened her mouth to scream but choked, coughing on the dust and ash stirred up from the fireplace. The weight of the owl statue she held above her head pulled her off balance; she wobbled as she coughed. One deep, chest wracking cough sent her sprawling to the floor with a crash and jarring her bladder. She soaked her nightgown. The statue rolled away from her. Pain radiated from her bruised derriere and her skull. 

"Merry Christmas, Baby Riley! What a naughty little girl you are, sneaking out of bed. And you took your diapee off and pee-peed all over yourself! Naughty, naughty!" Azrael's voice radiated pleasure.

Reila groaned, still unaware she'd wet herself when she'd fallen. She blinked several times to clear her blurred vision. Azrael loomed tall and imposing over her sprawled body. The long red velvet skirt covered her hooves. Curly black hair tumbled in thick waves to her waist, held back by a festive green ribbon. Polished horns curled out from her skull. So that's what the bitch was hiding under her hat during the Krampuslauf. 

Horns and hooves. Reila stared in a surreal haze, not quite believing what she was seeing. Her mind was sluggish and numb.

Strangest of all was the bright Christmas green, oversized baby carrier holding Nicky bundled to her chest. His legs dangled limp and useless in the air. He wore a red velvet sleeper with padded green mittens and booties. A green bib trimmed in white hung from his neck while a red infant's bonnet drowned in layers of ruffly white lace obscured much of his pretty face. He sucked on a red and white pacifier. He looked like an overgrown infant, helpless and vulnerable swaddled to Azrael's chest. 

Nicky whimpered softly as he sucked on his paci. His large doe eyes shone with sadness as he gazed down at Reila. She'd never seen the disabled, girly boy look so miserable, as if his heart overflowed with sorrow. 

Her head throbbed and she moaned. The dust settled and she could breathe freely again. The strange red and green light that had flashed from the chimney grew brighter. Red and green sparkles fluttered down the chimney like a horde of Christmas fireflies. She tried to raise her hands to rub her eyes, but her body would not cooperate. Her body tingled, feeling numb, as if her appendages had fallen asleep. Had she hurt herself when she fell?

Her eyes flew wide open in panic. Her heart sped up and another spurt of pee squirted out onto the floor, warm and wet on her thighs. This time she felt it. She whimpered. 

"Aww. Don't be scared, baby. You didn't hurt yourself. It's just an effect of my Christmas magic." Azrael grinned, revealing shark sharp pearly whites. Her smile was not reassuring at all. She tapped her chin thoughtfully; her eyes were fervent with excitement. "On second thought, considering what I'm here to do, maybe you should be scared. I do so enjoy that expression on your face." Nicky whimpered again, louder this time. 

"Shh." Azrael soothed him in a gentle coo, pressing on the shield of his pacifier. She kissed the top of his bonnet covered head. "You know she has this coming. She's had multiple chances and blew each one spectacularly." Her eyes glinted, almost seeming to glow in the gloom as they locked onto Reila's own. "Baby Riley here has been a very, very naughty girl. Soo naughty." Azrael almost moaned. "The fat man himself said so." 

Nicky shook his head as if to deny Az's words. He looked right into Reila's eyes, too, as tears welled up in his own. He sucked noisily on the rubber nipple filling his mouth; some drool dribbled down his chin and onto his bib. Gone was the fragile, disabled girly-boy, replaced by a big baby girl. Just like Rachel. 

"The fucking hell is going on? You're mental! What did you do to me, you fucking bitch? Fix it! Help! Mom! Grandma! HELP!! MOOOM! GRANDMA! HELP! MOMMY!" Reila still had control of her mouth and she used it, screaming in growing, blind terror at the top of her lungs, head thrashing from side to side and banging off the floor in her growing panic. She would have thrashed her arms and legs, gotten up and ran if her body would obey her. 

No one came. Reila screamed and screamed until her lungs ached and her chest heaved. Her face was a red, ruddy mess from er exertions, streaked with snot and tears. 

Nicky winced, his own tears falling. He looked up at Azrael with pleading eyes. She kissed his forehead and rubbed his mitten covered hands. She smiled as she watched Reila. As Reila screamed on, Nicky squirmed, whimpering softly and crying. Throughout it all, Azrael remained calm, her smile jolly. Once Reila finally ran out of energy to keep screaming, Az unstrapped Nicky. She removed him from the infant sling and set him down on the floor. She took off the sling and shook out her red skirt. The long hem fluttered, revealing her hooves once more. Then she bent over a small, red Santa sack she unslung from her back. 

She dug through the velvet bag. What she pulled out seemed too large to fit in the bag; it was like Mary Poppin's carpet bag, or Hermione's purse. She pulled out a large cloth and metal contraption. She unfolded it with a series of metallic clicks to reveal an oversized baby bouncer. 

Nicky watched her work with big, teary eyes. His legs splayed awkwardly on the floor, flopping limply when she set him down. He covered his ears with his thickly padded mittens and sucked hard on his binky. Az picked him up as if he weighed no more than an actual infant. She kissed his wet cheek and wiped away his tears. "Nicky. You knew she had this coming. She won't be allowed to continue on like this. And you and Rachie will have a new baby cousin to play with!" She cooed as she laid him in the bouncer, strapping him in securely. His diaper bulged against the snaps of his onesie. He gazed up at Az, whimpering softly one last time, his eyes begging her.

For just a moment, her face softened with a maternal look. "Sweetie. My baby." She bent in for more kisses on his soft cheeks. He relaxed under her affections but didn't smile. "You know the head tub o' lard himself gave me the greenlight for this." He nodded sadly in resignation as she chuckled darkly. She stood up, turning and focusing on a panting, snot covered Reila. Her grin turned feral, lips pulling back to bare her teeth like a predatory animal. 

“Are you finished with your wittle tantrum, Baby Riley? Get it all out of your system? As much as I enjoy your screeching, you’re upsetting the baby.” Azrael grinned down at Reila. 

The whites of Reila’s eyes showed in the gloom, heart thudding in her ears. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt swollen, stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her throat burned from all the screaming. She was too terrified to register the teasing, degrading taunts in Az’s voice. 

“Now, I’m sure you have many questions. The ones I visit on Christmas usually do. Where would you like to begin? Oh, I see. Yuck. Some naughty girl took her diapee off and made piddles on Uschi’s lovely floor.” Az’s voice was sickly, sugary sweet. Her cloven hooves clopped on the hard wood floor softly as she approached. The bells on her horns jingled softly. 

Reila wanted to scream all over again, her mind numb with terror. A sense of surreal washed over her, like she was trapped in a nightmare. This could not be happening. Her wide eyes focused on Az’s face. On her feral grin and sharp looking teeth. 

“You don’t want me to touch you. You’re scared of me. Smart baby. We can wait a little longer- it’s not like you’re going anywhere, and there’s already a pee puddle on the floor.” Az shrugged. “I guess we should start with proper introductions, anyway.” She rolled her eyes.

“Azrael Ruprecht, Christmas Spirit.” She curtseyed low in a mocking bow with a flourishing sweep of her skirt, soft clop of hooves, and jingling bells. “Eldest granddaughter of Krampus. Got a dash of Kringle on my father’s side, and a whole lot of demon on my mother’s.” Her grin widened eerily at the last part, as if she were particularly proud of the demonic part of her heritage. That explained the horns and hooves. 

Reila’s gaze focused on the curling, shiny horns hung with tiny silver bells. The polished metal reflected the glowing green and red sparkles that still filtered down through the chimney and lit up the living room. They made Azrael seem to glow with an unholy light. She shivered reflexively, more pee squirting out but she never felt it. Az watched the drops of fresh pee ripple into the yellow puddle around Reila’s hips and buttocks. She threw her head back and laughed in delight. 

“I’m gonna take care of your piddles, baby. Just like I take care of my own baby. Well, Nicky’s not really my baby. He’s a few years younger than me. But I take care of him. Kind of a surrogate mommy since his real mommy’s a lazy cunt who didn’t want to be burdened with a pants shitting, crossdressing tard. That’s what you like to call him, isn’t it, Reila?” Az’s tone went from taunting to vicious and malevolent. 

“Enough!” Nicky cried out in German. His pacifier fell out as he spoke. Liquid sparkled in the corners of his big, dark eyes. “Azrael. Please.” He softened his tone, squirming with a loud crinkle of his diaper. The bouncer swayed gently with his movements. His puffy pink lips shimmered with drool, looking like they were coated with lip gloss and making him look even girlier. 

Az crossed her arms under her voluptuous breasts. “What? I’m just schooling the brat. She deserves to know the score, don’t you think?” She bared her teeth tauntingly at Nicky. Reila whimpered helplessly. 

Nicky’s eyes flicked down to Reila, then up to Azrael. “You’re gloating.” He spoke even softer, more statement of fact than accusation. “And I don’t like being called a tard.” He mumbled, barely audible. 

Az scrunched her nose then sighed, arms falling to her side. “Fine. I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I went too far.” 

Nicky snorted softly then looked sternly up at her. His glare was ruined by his lacey bonnet, bib, pacifier, mittens and obvious diaper bulge. He tried to look intimidating and reprimanding but all he could manage was a cute pout. 

Az laughed, a deep-belly, warm Kringle laugh of delight. “You’re precious, baby.” She took a soft clop forward toward him, momentarily overcome by the urge to scoop him up and cuddle him. 

Nicky blushed, squirming some more shyly. His diaper rustled and crinkled while the bouncer swayed. “We should get this over with. Poor Riley’s scared.” 

“She has a right to know what’s going on. It’s so much more fun when they understand.” 

“You’re going to drag this out and torment her.” He pouted up at Az some more. 

“What’s wrong with that? I’m working on Christmas Eve.”

“We always work on Christmas Eve. It’s our night.” 

“Exactly! So, I should be able to have a little fun. It’s not like I get to drag her down to hell.” Az sounded particularly disappointed. 

“That’s barbaric! I’m glad Grandpa stopped that horrible tradition.” Nicky shivered. 

“Bah, it cut down on the crime rate.” Az defended. 

Reila listened, barely comprehending the rapid German let alone the meaning behind the foreign words. Her bewildered mind was as numb as her body, lost in a fog of shock. She stared dumbly up at Azrael’s horns. This couldn’t be real. Any moment, she was going to wake up from this nightmare. 

“Az. Please. Hurry. I don’t like this. I really don’t. “ His voice warbled, thick with tears as he looked down at Reila. “I’m sorry.” He whispered to her, seeming to crumple in on himself. 

Azrael snorted derisively and sneered down at Reila. “This little baby-” She lightly pinched one of Nicky’s pink cheeks “is grandson of the fat man himself. The head honcho of Christmas. You’ve certainly heard of him. Kris Kringle. Santa Claus. Saint Nick. Father Christmas.” She grinned at the disbelief in Reila’s eyes. “Oh yes, the fatso in red is real. And Nicky here is from the most powerful line if Yuletide spirits. Even if he’s a defective disappointment.” 

Nicky whimpered in protest, making Azrael flinch and look guilty, as if her mouth had run away with her again. “Sorry! Alright, alright. I’ll get on with it.” She pouted at Nicky’s watery gaze, tenderly brushing his tears away and pushing his pacifier back into his mouth. 

She turned back to Reila. “Now, where was I? Oh, yeah.” She circled the prone, helpless girl on the floor. Her hooves clopped and the tiny bells on her horns jingled, making her almost sound like a reindeer. She leered down at Reila, teeth bared in a feral grin. “This is quite real, I assure you. Reila, you’ve been a very, very naughty girl. So naughty you’ve left the Great Bearded Butterball no choice but to put you on the permanent naughty list. Which results in the presence of yours truly.”

Azrael picked up the red velvet Santa bag and pulled out various items; a travel tub of baby wipes, a tube of diaper cream, a bottle of baby powder, and a huge candy cane striped diaper like Nicky wore. She frowned, still feeling around in the bag. The more she reached in, the more the bag stretched unnaturally until she was poking her head in. 

Reila blinked as she watched the bag expand more than it should have been capable of. The bag was too small to fit that much Christmas demon in it. That was the same bag Azrael had pulled the adult sized baby bouncer out of. This was some crazy Mary Poppins shit. 

“Ah, here we are. Now the fun starts.” Az crowed triumphantly, holding aloft a pair of pliers like a trophy. Nicky whimpered, shutting his eyes tight. 

Confusion clouded Reila’s gaze. What was she going to do with those? Do something so she couldn’t take her diaper off herself? She heard Nicky’s diaper crinkle loudly as he squirmed in his bouncer. Her eyes flew to the plastic backed, candy cane monstrosity. Nicky’s damned diapers. She remembered the suffocating, waddling bulk and deafening crinkle. Now she was going to be imprisoned in one. She snapped. “Oh hell no! You’re not diapering me, you fucking psychotic bitch!” She snarled, trying to move her body. It wouldn’t obey. Her head wouldn’t even turn. The numb, tingling sensation from when she first fell and inhaled the Christmas magic still spread all over her body. It crept up from her neck, making her face tingle. As if it was growing stronger, not wearing off. She screamed in frustration. 

“Scream all you want, Riley baby. No one will hear you. Christmas magic muffles all sounds. It’s how the Fat Fart goes unheard. I let you hear me, but Uschi and Sonja are fast asleep. Dreaming of sugar plums and festive shit like that.” Az smiled and flapped open the gigantic diaper. The thick plastic rectangle crinkled like an army of grocery bags. 

Reila’s voice was still hoarse and sore from her earlier screaming. Her mouth was dry and she panted heavily, no longer able to scream but still full of fear and anger. The tingling numbness spread up from her throat, all along her tongue and teeth. Like her mouth was full of novocaine. She glowered up at Az for all she was worth, trying to scare her. Nicky met Reila’s gaze once, stared at her for several long seconds as if he was seeing what was in heart. His pretty doll face crumpled and he looked away. 

“Finished with your tantrum already? Such a noisy baby. Diapees are the least of your worries.” Az paused, fluffing out the diaper and stroking the soft padding inside just waiting to swaddle Reila. She laid the diaper down on the floor, well away from Reila’s pee puddle. She came closer to Reila, locking gazes with her. “You’ve done a good job fucking up your life. You were on a very bad road. Just like your daddy. Think of me as the construction crew here to reroute you. Fix you up. Though from your point of view, I really will be fucking things up for you.” She laughed. 

“Feking bish!” Fucking bitch. Reila croaked. If her mouth wasn’t so dry, she would have drooled. Anger boiled over her fear at the slurred speech but her body was too tired, too sore from screaming to voice her raging emotions. She couldn’t move her body, and now she couldn’t talk. She ignored the fear, blocked it out with anger by focusing on the cause. On Azrael. 

“Tsk, tsk. Such a potty mouth. I was going to be nice and clean you up. Diaper you first...but screw it. Let’s start with the fun part. Where did I put those pliers?” She felt around. The metal bells on her horns reflected the twinkling red and green sparkles filling the air with Christmas magic. 

At the word pliers, Nicky whimpered. “Az. Please. Is that necessary?” He trembled in his bouncer, padded mittens waving helplessly like he wanted to pull Reila away from Azrael. Like he wanted to stop Az, but he was stuck, secure and helpless as a baby in his bouncer. “Please. Az. Don’t do it. Please. Rachel didn’t have it done. “

Az stiffened at Nicky’s soft, desperate pleading. She turned to look at the big, girly baby. “Nicky. We’ve discussed this. Emma Jean screwed up with Rachel. Your grandpa even approved of my plan. It’s happening.” She snatched up the pliers from the floor by the other diaper supplies.

Nicky deflated, tears trickling down his cheeks in distress. He glanced once at Reila. “I’m sowwy.” He covered his eyes with his mittens as if he couldn’t bear to watch.

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Oh shit.... I'm basically an atheist leaning agnostic, but if this shit was going down I'd probably try the roman right if only because it would be the only thing I could think of in terms exorcism/abjuration. Obviously hit a with a paralytic I'm not getting a pentacle sketched.

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Oh shit.... I'm basically an atheist leaning agnostic, but if this shit was going down I'd probably try the roman right if only because it would be the only thing I could think of in terms exorcism/abjuration. Obviously hit a with a paralytic I'm not getting a pentacle sketched.

I think it would be a case of "any port in a storm will due."  :) 

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I think it would be a case of "any port in a storm will due."  :) 

Like Reila's an asshole but honestly she needs anger management courses and cognitive/analytic therapy not whatever torture session is in store that's only going to further destabilize her. Which is what that judge should have done if they had had any sense

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Like Reila's an asshole but honestly she needs anger management courses and cognitive/analytic therapy not whatever torture session is in store that's only going to further destabilize her. Which is what that judge should have done if they had had any sense

I agree- those would be the treatments more appropriate for Reila but much less fun for me as a writer.  The judge thought he was doing Reila a favor by being lenient with her. That didn't work out too well, and here we are, with Reila squaring off with a..well, not *the* Krampus, but a creature from his family tree. xD 

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Isn't this where the story was before the repost?   Not sure I can read the upcoming chapter.

Yeah I'm bracing for my anxiety disorder to go ape shit. Also It's not going to take long for Reila to be reported missing and it's not like their moving her out of town so I wonder how much difficulty the cops will have finding her. Does rural Germany have an equivalent to the "good old boy" system? I mean in Germany the police seem to be primarly under state control instead of municipal so one would think that would make them less vulnerable to anything like that.

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  • Cute_Kitten changed the title to A Naughty Christmas Update 6-24

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