Sheltered [12/03/2023] CH46+47 [Important Subscribestar Update]

[YourFNF]

On 1/20/2019 at 11:21 PM, Mee said:

 

Grabbing five individual boxes, Amy slipped off the covers of each one and carefully folded and placed them in the boxes, putting the covers back on. To ensure not even the slightest mishap occurred, Amy even tied each in a ribbon and helped Joyce load them into the trunk of her car, and they both gave each other a final hug before Joyce departed

Those outfits are amazing!! Ashley want!!!?❤️

[YourFNF]

On 1/23/2019 at 7:24 PM, Mee said:

The door slammed shut, and Joyce was gone. The goddess he let get away. Emily was the last thing he could think about now; not when a prize as shiny as her just slipped away.

“Damn...” He spat out to no one. He sighed as he looked over to the wall. Bob’s music was starting to get loud again…

 

---

[YourFNF]

I honestly I don't what else to say but I'm loving being with these two as they discover themselves.....?❤️ Well that and to beg for more gay diaper cummies for this horny lesbo.... ???

[Mee]

14 - Every Minute Matters

Although it was cold, Emily’s face was at least much cleaner now. The chill wasn’t pleasant, but given that she was confined to a chair, it’s not like she could have done much to protest. The lingers of syrup from repeated near-misses and the much more blatant one from Joyce’s phone call had been done away with; from the waist up she was as good as new.

It was unfortunate the day had to come to an end so soon, though. Just when things were getting started, that unexpected surprise was announced over the phone...Joyce undid the strap between Emily’s legs, then unlocked the tray after clearing its top and finally released the girl from her confines.

Before Emily could slide forward and find her footing on the crossbar however, Joyce’s hands slipped underneath her armpits, and she was hoisted slightly higher than she already was, and then lowered onto the ground.

“I could have done that part myself, you know.” Almost poutily, Emily mumbled, despite appreciating the gesture.

“And risk having you fall? They call them high chairs for a reason,” She happily poked Emily’s stomach, causing her to jump a little, and in turn earning a crinkle from her diaper. “We’re not taking chances on boo-boos, got it?”

Giggling, Emily conceded while she patiently waited for Joyce to finish the remainder of the cleanup.

“Looks like I forgot one last thing, though,” Joyce speaking to no one in particular, came back to Emily with such mild momentum, Emily thought she was going to be smothered by her lips like before. Instead, while she was getting herself so worked up Joyce leaned her head past Emily’s shoulder, and she could feel the sliding of fabric beneath her nape and a knot quickly undo itself. Leaning back, Joyce in her hands held the bib Emily forgot was hanging around her neck. With an amused smile, Joyce flashed it back to Emily, showcasing the few stains brandished on the kiddy slogan.

“It’s a good thing we used one of these, huh?” Folding it, she set it by the sink. “Maybe you should use them when you’re a big girl too?” Snickering, she also slipped off the band holding Emily’s hair together.

“If I remember correctly, you’re the one who got it all over my face!” Defiant, Emily planted her feet firm, and balled her fists at her sides; the kind of defense equivalent to a toddler’s stubbornness. Joyce wasn’t 100% if she knew what she was doing completely, but Emily unknowingly or not was hitting all the right buttons, and she was slowly approaching an all-time high.

“Maybe for some of the syrup,” Joyce explained in a motherly tone, obviously trying to downplay the biggest mishap of the morning. “But that doesn’t explain all of it,” She poked her soft cheek. “And I gave you the last strawberry, too! But I know what Mommy did wasn’t very nice...I’m very sorry for making you icky, Emmy.”

Almost in a giggle fit, Emily couldn’t find it in herself to put up the front for much longer. She was too preoccupied with extracting as much sweetness from this as possible. It’d be fading fast as soon as they got to the nursery, and attended to the much more adult issues that were suddenly pressing against the glass; expectantly ogling their most private and sacred moments. Selfishly, Emily felt the smallest seed of wanting bloom within her. She felt cheated.

“To make it up to you, how about we finish getting you changed?”

“That’s fine, I guess...” The act was gone now, and she was back to her complacent self. As she started to walk, she became acutely mindful of the added bulk to her diaper, still warm from recent occurrences...It definitely was a weird feeling, but the cushiness was an enigma, at worst...And thankfully the absorbency had been doing its job, because 'wet' wasn’t the right way to describe how she felt below.

Along the way to the nursery, Emily could feel her bunches of hair be played with in the back, methodically brushed by a set of fingers and stroked in a gentle manner. Unconsciously, she must have adjusted her pace just to let the moment last even longer. Even with that, it didn’t take much time until her bare feet were soaking up the thick carpet to her much more age-appropriate room. One sensation was exchanged for the other, because the hands left her head of hair and the dominant figure took the lead yet again.

“So how about a new diaper first, then we figure out an outfit for you?”

“Diaper?” Emily’s state of pensive thought was suddenly broken, as she stared at the neutral woman with a puzzled expression.

“You do want to be changed, right?” Was she...was she really adapting that fast? Quietly, Joyce tried to decipher the girl’s reaction. Getting these diapers regularly was no issue, but even she was a little disappointed at the thought of wasting them over a single wetting...When weighing the facts more heavily than the feelings, they could hold a substantially larger amount of fluid...But again, Emily’s opinion mattered the most, so was she hallucinating? Hearing Emily suggest that so soon?

“I thought we were done with the babying?”

“What?” Joyce looked like she’d just been told firetrucks were blue; her nearing conclusions had been totally swept away. “W...why’d you think that? Do you...do you want to stop?” The thought was unexpected, and unpleasant to consider. It was completely out of left field, and their time for this was already strained.

“N-no,” Emily averted her gaze the slightest bit. “I just thought that because your parents are coming...”

“And? They’ll be here tomorrow.”

“But don’t we, you know, need to clean up some of the stuff?” The only things Emily had seen visibly outside the nursery were the high chair, bib, and bottle, but she suspected there was much more to be discovered. Stuff that needed to be put on hold.

“You let me worry about that stuff,” Casually, she lifted Emily’s pajama shirt and stripped her of it, leaving her in just a bra and diaper. Instinctively Emily almost went to cover herself, but gradually eased her arms back at her sides. “And like I said, they’re coming tomorrow. Why should that have to interfere with today? It’s your birthday, and I’ll be damned if anything’s going to put a damper on that.”

“Are you sure?” Respectfully, Emily tried to leave room for doubt. Deep down though, how protective Joyce seemed to be of her had the sensitive feelings inside of her igniting to euphoric levels. “I...I don’t mind if we need to postpone...” She somewhat did, but not being disrespectful toward Joyce’s parents was important too.

“Well I do,” Joyce folded the shirt, setting it on the dresser. “I worked too hard to see you this happy, and the chances of doing anything to ruin that are slim to none. Today is your day. Nobody else but you gets a say in that. That being said,” She raised a brow, as if she could see right through Emily, straight to her core, where her undying selflessness resided. “I better not catch you ignoring your own wants. Anything that’s done today is for your sake, and no one else. Got it?”

Quietly, Emily replied. “Okay...”

It was the one word that put Joyce into a splendid mood, and she was all sunshine and rainbows again.

“Perfect. Now, let’s forget about what’s going to happen tomorrow and focus on what we’re doing today!” She ran her hands up and down Emily’s arms. “Now up on the changing table, missy. The last thing we need is you getting chilly because I didn’t put you in something nice and warm!”

Her words reached Emily, yet despite turning to the table partway, she hardly moved. Strangely, Emily could feel herself voicing thoughts that’d been considered long ago, and even now. It was enough to even surprise herself.

“...Don’t these hold a lot more?”

A silent pause was Joyce’s first reaction. It was another one of those moments that had her completely blindsighted. The times when Emily would throw her for a loop were so far and between, which is exactly why it was always so pleasantly jarring. But by now, her flustered posture, hesitation in her words, the tinge of red on her face, the signs were all too obvious, and Joyce knew what she was seeing; a breakthrough.

“Well…” Trying to level her own emotions, Joyce started. “They can, but don’t you want a new one?” She tried to play the devil’s advocate; playing to Emily’s initial tendencies so not to seem like she was biased. Deep down she was, and Emily was willingly trying to walk right into it. For the sake of fairness though, she wouldn’t influence the outcome. None of it would matter if it was forced. She needed to know that this was mutual.

“Maybe...but aren’t these expensive?” Awkwardly, Emily looked at the diaper around her hips; decorated in the happy Sesame Street themes, containing her bodily fluids and allowing her the excuse to skip out on the much more traditional toilet...It was one less thing for her to focus on, and one more task for her caretaker to manage…”W...wouldn’t it be better if I used it more?” The idea was beyond strange; suggesting she pee in a diaper even more, but objectively...wasn’t that what she was supposed to do? Looking at it objectively, how spoiled could she have been? Wetting a diaper only once, then moving right onto the next?

“Emmy, you know you’re not supposed to worry about the numbers,” Lightly scolding, Joyce parted a stray hair from her face. “And you should be making choices based on what you want, not me. But if we’re talking about diapers in general, then yes, they typically are used more than once...Regardless, that standard doesn’t need to apply to you. It’s about what makes you comfortable. I don’t mind either way.” It was a half-lie. She did want Emily to use a diaper more than once, because it was more practical, and it did cut down on diaper consumption...and the thought of finding her in a used diaper stimulated the mommy in her...The most of all though, she wanted Emily to be happy.

“I...” The disconnect from her mouth and mind was large, and the request she was trying to process defied who she was entirely. Her idea was akin to taking a hammer to a load-bearing wall. She was obviously taking herself down by a peg, but she was okay with it? Or at least she wanted to be. The demand to please Joyce was even greater than to do so for herself. The thought was surreal; wanting more for someone else than yourself. And even if she framed it as that, she knew a growing part of her would derive a strange kind of satisfaction from it too…”I want you to change me when I need to be...” The words when put together as a coherent sentence was as foreign as a Polar bear in the Sahara.

“When you need to be?” They both knew fully well what she meant by “needed,” and a single wetting certainly didn’t classify as that. “Are you sure?”

Mutely, Emily nodded her head, still not fully onboard with herself. She was willingly throwing herself deeper down the rabbit hole, yet the whole reason she kept pressing on was because she knew who she’d find at the bottom…

“Besides...di-didn’t you say I’m supposed to use them?” The justification was outright strange, considering how she was trying to shift the blame, or cause of the situation. Each word came out shakier than the last. She didn’t know why she was trying to deflect the credit for her own bathroom habits, but it came off as easier to let someone much more capable shoulder the responsibility. “I want you to have more control...”

“More…?”

“W-well, you know...” Having to be the one who pushed the envelope for these sorts of things was usually Joyce’s job, so of course it made Emily uncomfortable. Given her lack of clothes and the role she was acting, it didn’t exactly seem to make much sense for her to be the one making demands. Then again, the demand was to lose to right to make such. “You’re in charge...right?”

The silence went on for a few moments, but what was first to disturb it was Joyce’s small laugh over the blatant irony.

“Hey…!” Almost offended, Emily whined as Joyce couldn’t help but laugh over what she was hearing.

“No...no, that’s not it. I’m not laughing at you, sweetie.” She wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist and pulled her close; the diaper being squished between the two of them. Obviously Joyce didn’t mind, though. She was far too giddy to mind, and even if she wasn’t already happy, the feeling of her baby girl’s soft, warm diaper was just another sign of a job well done. “I’m laughing at myself! Sometimes I lower my guard around you a bit too much.”

“Wh-what? What do you mean?” Emily tried her best to keep cool, but the affection was almost mind-numbing with the way she was dressed, or how she wasn’t.

“You’ve just done some stuff before I never expected, that’s all.” Finally, she let Emily go. “Even when it feels like I’m the one in charge, you always seem to be upsetting the pace in such...amazing ways!” Her eyes practically sparkled at the sound. “But, I won’t force you to speak on it, my little strawberry.” This time the laughs were fired in Emily’s direction, but they only added fuel to the fire which warmed Emily all over, more than her diaper, thankfully.

More control? A few ideas came to Joyce’s mind, but more importantly the gesture itself had her feeling fuzzy tenfold! The day was just getting started, but the fruits it had borne already were so rich in their senses of positivity, essence, and joy. She felt like they were progressing at such a rapid speed even she might need to hold onto something…

“But anyways~!” Finally clearing the fog, Joyce with her hands on her hips, looked down on Emily in a wonderfully condescending way. “I think we’ve kept you in just a diaper for long enough. No more stalling, baby girl.”

“Not just a diaper...” Emily tried to correct her teasingly, but with the bra or not, it did little for how she looked. If anything, it was an awkward contrast to the attire of an infant…

“Oh? Is somebody suggesting I take the bra, too?” Mimicking crab claws, Joyce rapidly pinched her hands, slowly motioning to Emily’s shoulder straps.

“No! No, no, no!” Giggling, Emily backpedaled into the corner, unknowingly crashing into the giant teddy bear behind her. Slouching on her feet, she crouched and leaned back into the fluffy bear, taking his puffy arms and using them as a shield. “The bra stays on!” Laughing through her pleas the whole way, she watched as Joyce closed in on her final stand.

“Well, last time I checked, someone told me to be much more watchful of my charge! Apparently I wasn’t taking enough control?” Her obvious allusions already had Emily feeling silly, and she could feel her toes curling into the carpet as Joyce knelt down in front of her; her eyes never losing the high ground.

“He might protect you from the mean monsters, but...” Joyce paused for a second, realizing the furry friend had no name. “Mr.Bear,” She quickly inserted a temporary one. “Knows better than to disobey Mommy.” She pretended to look worried. “I hope my little girl isn’t being a bad influence on him?”

“No, I’m good! You’re the one that’s bad!” Emily eagerly retorted, as Joyce wrapped her hands around her ankles.

“Oh?” She gave an unconvinced smirk. “And how’s Mommy being a meanie?” She dragged the helpless girl away from the clutches of her furry guardian, and now had her sprawled on the floor, with one of her feet in hand, raised in the air. Emily could only giggle nervously as she’d just been locked into a deathly torture device. “You’re saying ‘no’ an awful lot today...What’s got you so cranky?”

“B-because you got syrup on me…?” The facade was waning fast in the face of a genuine threat, and her trapped foot wiggled its toes with uncertainty packed into each and every little appendage. “A-and,” She tried to keep the explanation going, disillusioned that the argument would actually save her from certain demise. “And you were gonna eat my strawberry, so--!” As soon as the tickling started, Emily erupted into a shower of giggles, fighting desperately to wrench her foot from Joyce’s hold.

Speaking over her laughs and shouts, Joyce continued on, her fingers scurrying across the delicate skin no less. “I think it’s because someone didn’t get enough sleep last night. We’ll have to make sure your nap is extra long today!”

“N-no!” Emily managed the same word with un-failed repetition, as her grounds for negotiation had been totally lost. She would have liked to have slept longer, but now that she was up, the impending arrival of Joyce’s parents meant they had to soak up every ounce of time that was at their disposal.

“Are you gonna let me get you dressed now?” Her heart melted, watching Emily squeal with glee as she further and further resigned into her role; defenseless in just a diaper and bra in her very own nursery. It was yet again another perfect concoction which led to an indescribable pleasure! It was like living a dream that had been so distant for so long, and Joyce never wanted to wake up.

“Yes! Yes!” Emily would have kept shouting it a thousand times over, but her lungs had grown too restless from all the laughing that was being forced out of her.

With her magic fingers, through her foot alone could Joyce command and expend troves of energy from Emily’s entire being. Trying her hardest to wipe her involuntary tears from her eyes, she’d keep pounding her fists into the carpet; doing anything she could to express her body’s frustration from the tingling. As much as she was suffering, being at Joyce’s mercy was intoxicating. And finally, the tickle monster yet again returned from whence it came. She could only hope she was starting to build a resistance…

“Okay, no more games!” Joyce spoke with mild authority, partly directing the words to herself. “Off your tush, missy!” Like a lazy soldier reporting to their commander, Emily found her shaky footing; still working the tickles out of her.

“Now comes the most important question,” Guiding her over to the closed door, Joyce finally opened it, the one that had Emily theorizing since this whole adventure began. Half-expected, it was a small walk-in closet, lined with an array of shelves and two bars opposite of each other for hangers. Emily could already recognize the few things she’d worn before, and maybe a few new tidbits, but it was overall pretty empty. Joyce was painfully aware of this too, but she of course had plans to change that over time…“Are we feeling like today’s a lazy day, or do you want to have a play day?”

Her perplexing riddle was mostly lost on Emily, as she couldn’t even begin to imagine what either answer would lead to; how it would affect her appearance. Joyce guarded the entrance to the closet as well, so it wasn’t like she could have gone snooping on her own…

“Uhm...” The more she thought, a small warning in the back of her head signed that if she didn’t choose soon, Joyce might for her. Not that she minded, of course. In a way it was preferable, but for once Emily knew how she wanted the day to go.

“Play.” She spoke adamantly, earning a warm smile from Joyce.

“Okay, then close your eyes for me. Nice and tight!” Shrouding Emily’s eyes with her hand, Joyce held it there for a second until peeking through her fingers to see they were in fact sealed shut. “No peeking, got it? Otherwise I might need to give your tummy a few tickles next...”

Anything but that. Emily could feel the muscles in her eyes tighten. This mission had suddenly become do or die, and failure was not an option. Joyce choked down a giggle, watching her visibly stiffen at the sound of the playful warning. Satisfied, she turned back into the closet to collect the piece.

“You’re still not allowed to look!” Joyce warned, as Emily could suddenly feel herself being handled by Joyce’s soft, loving hands.

“I’m not gonna, but when can I look?” A sudden wave of surprise overcame her when she could feel Joyce work a small bunch of fabric over her head. Despite her most valuable sense being locked away, she could’ve sworn she felt the slightest sway around her hips. Almost like a skirt…? Either way, the shirt she’d been put in was a soft, short-sleeve just from the feel, but what struck her as a heart-racing afterthought was the snug feeling she was starting to feel around her crotch. With the sound of a few snaps, the diaper she was wearing suddenly felt pressed a slight bit tighter to her now; consciously aware of it being encased by something. But her thighs still felt bare? Clearly she wasn’t wearing pants...so then what? Once she lowered her arms, her hands accidentally came into contact with the exterior, which confirmed the skirt theory. It felt like...denim? She became aware of the extra shoulder straps over her shoulders too when Joyce lifted them for a quick adjustment, then set them back in place.

“And just to keep your feet nice and warm...” Emily still blind, was much more accepting of Joyce’s hold once she obviously slipped a pair of socks on her feet. Then, for a few uninterrupted moments, nothing happened. The only thing Emily could feel, or think she felt, was her sixth sense picking up on Joyce’s quiet presence.

“Come on, can I open my eyes now?” Slowly becoming impatient, Emily’s irrational side considered tapping its foot.

“M..mhmm..!” Joyce’s response was odd. As if she were holding something back...Emily didn’t know how to feel about that. Suddenly nervous, she cracked open an eye, starting with her gaze at her feet.

Certainly she was wearing a skirt...but it was connected to what was on her torso, and very short. It was a denim dress, and the large pocket sewn on its torso almost had Emily sweating. Oddly, she counted each and every thick stitch she could see around its lining, and where the dress ended up top she could see the pale yellow fabric, encased by the denim shoulder straps, connected to the front of the dress by fat, white buttons. Her cheeks slowly heated as she came to terms with what she was wearing. Before she even looked at Joyce’s reaction, she looked into the full-length mirror.

She blinked. For a moment, Emily almost side-stepped, because the reflection that was occupying the mirror clearly wasn’t her. A toddler was blocking it, and as cute as she was, Emily was a little bit more focused on seeing herself, as well as confused by the sudden stranger in the room...But that’s when she froze, letting a small sound of realization escape her, staring into the reflected image. Her own, reflected image...What she saw was something she couldn’t recognize; someone that she couldn’t say with confidence was Emily Sen, of 26--no, 27 years of age. Yet still, the mistake she’d made in her age was almost preferable, given the sight she was suddenly treated to reminded her of someone that was 2 rather than 27...From a mild blush, Emily watched her face rapidly shift in pigment from a pale pink to a mild red, just from seeing herself in the...the strangely alluring, and otherworldly adorable outfit…!

But, but who was she looking at right now? From a sliver of the mirror’s view, she could see a taller figure beside who she still had a hard time believe was herself. She looked so familiar, though. She was a lot like Emily; black hair, green eyes, small stature, same outfit, well-acquainted with Joyce...The biggest differences with this person though, was the denim dress they were wearing, and if Emily didn’t know any better, the slight spread in her legs suggested there might be a diaper underneath...Internally, she giggled just from watching the bashful girl trapped in the mirror. Yet, in unmistakable unison the person in the mirror giggled back? The fascination and mild confusion dissipated as quickly as it came, because her memory started to jog, and the person she was looking at became perfectly clear.

It was Emily. Emmy. Emmy Summers.

She could have likely stood there for a thousand years, trying to come to terms with the transformation she was doing her best to comprehend. How she could have become something she couldn’t even recognize was baffling. She didn’t feel like Emily anymore...she felt like...Emmy. Joyce’s baby girl, and there wasn’t a shred of physical evidence left to prove otherwise. Her body didn’t feel so synced with her thoughts anymore, because as embarrassed as she looked, her mind was busy making complacent observations. As if it were a delicate artifact, she lightly traced her finger along the denim hem, trying to make the distinction between fantasy and fiction.

“Do you like it?” After enough emotional overspills, Joyce finally found it in her to keep herself in check. On the surface she was the calm, collected mommy that she needed to be, but underneath was a raging typhoon of ecstasy and pleasure; overwhelmed with the limitless marvel from what Emily looked like right now. What almost had her squeal was when Emily leaned the slightest bit forward, likely inspecting the outfit further, and unbeknownst to the girl a small patch of yellow onesie on her backside peeked from the covers of the skirt.

“It’s...cute...” Gradually coming to her senses, Emily spoke as objectively as she could. What probably allowed her to be so honest was the silly truth that she hadn’t even recognized herself for a few moments, and admittedly felt like she was speaking about someone else altogether. She was a totally different person. “H...how did you get this?” Turning from the mirror to Joyce, her skirt swayed the slightest bit, causing the tiniest breeze to brush past her bare thighs.

Should she tell her? Joyce in the span of a few moments caught herself in an endless debate; reasoning whether or not it would be the best time to tell her...There was no way she could say it was Amy without Emily being able to put two and two together and realize she knew about the diapers...and likely what they were doing right now. Honestly, it was a mystery why she hadn’t already guessed Amy. Maybe it was something testing Joyce’s truthfulness?

Though, who was to say Emily wouldn’t be okay with it? Maybe after seeing just how hard Amy worked to make such exquisite clothes, realize the countless hours of well-intentioned effort each thread was infused with, maybe she could understand? More than anything, Joyce didn’t like the idea of keeping secrets. The sooner these sorts of things were rooted out, the better.

Trying to restrain herself from hugging Emily all over, Joyce carefully spun Emily back around to the mirror, holding her wrists, hanging the girl’s arms in front of her skirt. She set her head on top of Emily’s while they both looked into the mirror.

“Remember when we went to go see my seamstress? Our seamstress? Amy?” It didn’t take any more than that, as Emily suddenly tilted her head upwards, trying to face Joyce with a panicked expression.

“Wh-what?! You told-!” A finger was pressed to her lips.

“You have every right to be concerned, Emmy, but do me a favor a look back into the mirror.” Reluctantly, but trying her best to be convinced, Emily turned her head back to their reflection, obviously looking much more troubled.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how excited Amy was to make these clothes for you!” Joyce explained in an upbeat tone; encouraging and positive; chasing the negative emotions away. “She wanted more than anything to make you look as adorable as possible,” Joyce deposited both of her hands in Emily’s paw print pocket, minus the thumbs. “She worked very hard to make these outfits for you, and you’ve only seen one!”

Emily still shuffled uncomfortably; imagining just how exposed she was to the outside world. They had one golden rule, and it’d been shattered. Joyce had betrayed her! She’d been crossed, and she wanted to be mad, angry, and sad...so why didn’t she? She didn’t feel happy or comfortable (emotionally, at least), but that didn’t extend into any resentment for Joyce. Her mind could only think of the countless, terrible futures where Amy might use this dark secret against both her and Joyce. They were now pawns in any masterful scheme she might wish to exact in the future...Even with that in mind though...being forced to look at her own reflection, the denim dress and yellow onesie she figured it to be all looked splendid...This clearly wasn’t run-of-the-mill, and the effort in it was genuine; evidence that would suggest the opposite of ill-intentions. If there was care, how could it be malicious?

“And nothing’s changed,” Joyce explained while she briefly toyed with the onesie’s collar next. “Our secret is still safe, and no one else other than you, me, and Amy to a very limited degree I’ll add, knows. The only thing she knows is that I might like to dress you up a little bit.”

“But what about the-!” Emily couldn’t help herself but interrupt, dying with the questions which dictated life or death.

“Yes, she knows about those too,” Joyce asserted her verbal dominance yet again. “But so what? Joyce nonchalantly continued. What else is my little Emmy supposed to be wearing? If she didn’t know about the diapers, how else would she be able to make you such cute, fitting clothes?”

“You promised, though...” Emily quietly pouted. The sense of betrayal was beyond evident, and to Joyce the disappointment in her voice was like a spear run through her own heart. It’s not like she deserved any less, though.

“I did,” Joyce remorsefully spoke. “But, didn’t you say that you wanted to trust me more?” With almost every fiber of her being, Joyce hated using Emily’s own words against her like this, but the only thing that kept her pressing forward was the mutual net gain that’d be on the other side. She’d have to keep reminding herself that this was for them, not just her.

“There’s no way Amy will ever tell anyone anything,” She made a point to put heavy emphasis on the two most important words. “Not only does she have non-disclosure agreements with all her clients, but I can tell you something like this is a tiny blip on her map. From the sound of it, she’s handled much more off the wall stuff. Your wardrobe is something she really likes making!”

Joyce’s words were reassuring, but Emily knew she was really tripping over herself when it was clear her right to total protest was lost, considering she did surrender more control to Joyce. But didn’t it not count, seeing as this had to have been orchestrated before? Only recently did she start giving Joyce the verbal ‘okay’ on these things...The technicalities were too annoying to consider. Despite the turmoil, her instincts were still unashamedly telling her to be strut along by Joyce. But was there any sense of recourse to this? Did there need to be? All Joyce was telling her about were the positives, and the only negative Emily could find in the room was herself, which she had the power to change. The longer she looked into the mirror, Joyce hanging over her, while she was in a onesie, denim dress, all covering her wet diaper, a small, sudden smirk escaped her.

“Oh? Did something about that make you happy?” Joyce nudged, taking advantage of whatever giddy feelings she could spur within Emily. “I know what I did made you feel uncomfortable, but I want you to know nothing bad will come of it. Only good things,” Joyce squeezed a little tighter. “I’m willing to hear anything you want to tell me, though.”

“Going to Amy like that without my permission...it wasn’t nice.” Trying to sound glum, Emily spoke truthfully. The thick stitches in her front pocket almost looked like a toothy smirk to her, adjoined by the fat, white shoulder strap buttons like eyes.

“No...it wasn’t.” Joyce somberly agreed. “I knew our secret would still be safe, but that doesn’t mean you’d feel the same; regardless of the outcome.”

“...Right...” Emily nodded, thinking of how else she could do the proper thing and scold Joyce. She wiggled her hips slightly, watching the skirt move to and fro...She did her utmost to silence an oncoming giggle. She wanted more than anything to be mad, but how was it her place to chastise her own caregiver? “I want you to tell me when you do stuff as risky as that...I want to know what to expect.”

“Tell?” Not ask? “You mean you want me to ask before I do stuff like this, right?” Joyce fished for clarification, and Emily could only nervously watch her toes wiggle in their polka dot socks, squirming in the carpet.

“N...no. I want you to tell me,” All jitters, Emily confirmed her earlier words. “I...I can trust you, right? You said so?” Through the mirror, she stared into Joyce’s eyes with sincere purity, innocence and complete dependence. She was a frail and delicate little girl opening herself up to the one person who would do anything and everything to protect her. For once it hurt Joyce now to receive kindness in response to her own wrongdoings. She didn’t deserve it, which is why she cherished it all the more.

“Of course!” Forcing herself out of such a melancholic state, Joyce by Emily’s waist hoisted her into the air for a few moments before setting her back down. From the angle she lifted her, Emily too could catch the white snaps enclosing the round and padded crotch to her onesie from the mirror. The way the entire outfit hugged her and made her feel was a strange and unapologetic wave of childishness that was already taking root. Emily wasn’t sure how to feel. But Emmy? Emmy was right at home.

“But you still want me to take the lead, right?” Admittedly, the dynamic was a bit unorthodox. Emily wanted to surrender her freedoms, but she wanted the right to be aware of what was happening? She relinquished her power to do anything about it (within reason), yet she still wanted to be an attentive spectator…

“Yeah, I guess.” From the sound of it, even Emily was aware of her selfish requests; having her cake and eating it too. “If...if that’s okay?”

Snickering, Joyce embraced Emily with a small Eskimo kiss, and finally took her away from the mirror. Her laughter was enough of an answer, and Emily didn’t feel the need to press any further.

“And there’s one last thing to add...” Joyce rambled on as she turned her back to Emily and moved to the dresser. She opened the top drawer, clearly looking for something among a sea of many things, evident by the sliding of foreign objects. Emily could only watch with curiosity as Joyce’s audible searching came to an end and she came back with two small accessories in hand.

Emily stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to think at all. She really hadn’t been thinking of it...but it’s not like this was unexpected. “Is that a...”

“Pacifier? Yes, it is!” Joyce resounded in singsong praise, displaying the silicon teat attached to a plastic shield and ring, all proportionate for someone Emily’s size. As Joyce held it in front of her, it was easy to read the girl’s hesitation, but like always she did her utmost to ease her into it. “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, you know,” Joyce reminded as she dangled the childish item from her finger. “But I think you might be pleasantly surprised if you do~!” The aftertaste of suspense lingered in her words, and Emily the willing sucker she was felt herself being tempted by the bait.

As if she weren’t happy about it, looking at anything but the amused Joyce, Emily quietly opened her mouth the slightest bit, her arms crossed like she was in total protest, yet how bad of a liar she could be in times like this…

Joyce didn’t give her a chance for second thoughts, and no sooner than it took for Emily to open her mouth, it was filled by the firm, yet squishy material just as fast. Letting the foreign invader sit still for a few moments, Emily ceased all activity as if she were awaiting the big reveal; the surprise Joyce had been dangling over her head. But it was just a normal pacifier? She squeezed her teeth on it curiously. Just as she was about to call her out on her lies though, Emily’s tongue brushed across the nipple, and along the way picked up a sweet, fruity taste...Banana?

Her eyes focusing on the pacifier in her mouth, Emily inspected the sensation further; dancing her tongue all around the flavored bulb and receiving equally as pleasant banana-y responses. And the more she worked at it, the more she felt as if it were teetering on the line between not enough, and just satisfying. She loved the taste of banana, and wanted to feel that wave of flavor in full. Suddenly licking the pacifier wasn’t enough, and in a desperate attempt to try and stir a greater yield, the pacifier rhythmically gyrated the slightest bit, shifting to the front and back of her mouth; sucking on it.

“I take it that one’s a winner?” Happy to see it working as intended, Emily finally looked from the pacifier and back to Joyce. Blushing heavily over her distractions, she quickly yanked the item from her mouth (Demanded by circumstance, despite her tastebuds crying in protest), and without any real sensible place to put it, she shoved it in the torso pocket of her denim dress.

“Why did you stop?” Joyce looked the slightest bit disappointed, mourning for the sweet scene she had just been treated to. “Didn’t it taste good? If I remember correctly, someone can’t get enough of bananas, my little kitty-monkey.”

“I don’t know...” Emily aimlessly spoke, knowing exactly why she did stop, as well as why she should know better than to feel so ashamed...

“No embarrassment,” Joyce magically pulled the words from Emily’s mind, as she reached into Emily’s pocket and pulled the pacifier back out. “Remember?” Curiously, she gave it a suck herself, taking note of the pleasant taste herself. Needing to repeat herself less and less each time though, the first two words were enough to let the pacifier back into Emily’s mouth. She didn’t seem to suck it as eagerly this time, though.

“Enjoy it all you can for now,” Joyce passively warned. “Because if we don’t throttle that thing, you might become too attached.” Laughing at the thought, while Emily only shivered from imagining such a terrible fate. It didn’t seem to stop her sucking, however. “Either that, or it’ll completely ruin your craving for bananas.” Ushering her along, the two went back into the hallway.

“You take the lead, missy. Off to the living room we go!” Joyce cheered as their feet stepped over the polished, hardwood floors. Silently, she bit her lower lip, watching Emily’s skirt swish from side to side, and a small crinkle from underneath too. Everything right now was beyond perfect, and it would only get better!
Onto the next room, the floor beside the couch had been sanctioned off by a large, decorated mat, sending waves of old, distant memories back to Emily. Almost like a living memory, images of them, sitting on that old blanket, messing with logic puzzles echoed through her mind.

Motifs of suns and moons decorated the purple, plush mat, and checkered across it were the many toys and trinkets that would serve as the morning’s entertainment. She recognized a few things from last time, but what had her interested more than she’d like to admit was the return of those logic puzzles, the ones that had her sitting in Joyce’s lap…! More seemed to have joined the scene, and they brought along with them their stuffed animal friends, and didn’t skip out on the thick, picture books. A box of fat crayons freshly unwrapped from their packaging sat on a coloring book as well. Seeing the rainbow gradient illustrated on the front almost had her itching to give it a try…

For a brief moment, Emily removed the pacifier from her mouth. “You really didn’t hold back on the stuffed animals, did you?” She giggled, aimlessly nudging a furry dog with her foot onto its side. Between what was here and in the nursery, she couldn’t put it past herself as being the commander of an army of fluffy cuteness. She couldn’t help but snicker thinking about it.

“It’s very important my little girl knows that she’s loved very much!” Taking one of the stuffed toys, Joyce like a puppet master animated its movements over Emily’s shoulders. “You have a loving mommy,” She paused just to kiss her cheek. “And on top of that, you have lots of stuffies to make you feel comfy!”

The countless inanimate faces all pointed in random directions; mute and lifeless, yet reverberating a sense of warmth, as each and every toy was imbued with a sense of serenity which was tethered back to Joyce. Everything here was an extension of Joyce’s love, and Emily felt herself wanting to be smothered in it. More than she already was. It was all through a childish medium, infantile at that, but beneath the surface layer was the plentiful emotion; honey to a bee; irresistible, intoxicating, loving, and heartwarming sweetness.

“I gotta say though, I was almost expecting you to somehow get a playpen...” What an imagination it took to picture something like that. With fences almost as tall as herself, by no means would it have been practical, and it probably would have been jarring considering the size it’d be...It was strange to think about, but how Emily’s undeniable size was an important factor welled within her a strange feeling of sadness. She was small, especially compared to Joyce, but she wasn’t a toddler; far from it. Her words were meant as a fun joke, but suddenly it felt like she was hurting herself more than anything else.

“Maybe in the future...” Joyce spoke passively, giving it an actual thought. Turned away, Emily could only sit there in disbelief for it to be actually considered. She couldn’t be serious, could she? Get a playpen for a grown woman? Further and further the line which divided reality and fantasy was becoming an even greater, blurry mess. From Joyce’s perspective though, it was a perfectly viable avenue. It certainly wasn’t usual, but it wasn’t impossible. Well, maybe not for an apartment in the city, at least...Regardless, it’d need to be something she logged away for the books.

“That’s something for later, though,” Joyce continued with polite dismissiveness. “Until then, focus on what we have right now, my spoiled little girl!” Joyce sarcastically chided.

“I wasn’t asking for one!” Emily countered, slightly grimacing at the idea of becoming rotten from so much glimmer and glam. “It was a joke!”

“I know, I know,” Joyce consoled, giving her hand a squeeze. “If my Emmy’s ever spoiled, it’ll be mommy’s fault, and even at that I know you’ll be my good little girl!” She beamed with genuine pride, overflowing with joy at the thought; being able to claim someone else as your own, and have the other party be just as excited.

Flustered, Emily started to mumble in embarrassment, in a low, troubled whisper, “Of...of course I will...” Suddenly a convenient excuse to plug her murmurs and nervousness, the banana-flavored pacifier found its way back in between her lips, and the fictitious verbal strain which weighed over her shoulders seemed to have been erased completely.

Gently setting her hands on Emily’s shoulders, with a small bit of force she physically commanded Emily to take a seat on the playmat, and Joyce still remained standing. Unfortunately the diaper between her legs didn’t make sitting on her knees the most comfortable. For modesty’s sake, she wished she could have assumed such a position, but it was pretty clear that wasn’t in the cards. Reluctantly, she sat on her bottom (Certainly feeling awkward after the slight squish of the diaper), and with a white and crinkly mass between her legs, they spread the slightest bit outwards. The hem of her dress while standing was enough to cover the onesie’s crotch, but now that her own thighs prevented it from sinking any lower, a small window of visibility was now there.

“Okay missy, I have a very important job for you now,” Joyce’s face started to look serious, which started to restrain Emily’s flowery expressions. It took everything Joyce could not to break character however, when Emily gave a small nod and the ring of her pacifier dangled just slightly. “...I need you to find something extra fun to play with, okay?” She gestured her hand to the countless items scattered across the playmat. “I’m gonna go fill your bottle, so until I’m back I need you to be feeling extra happy and funny.”

For some reason Emily forgot the pacifier was in her mouth when she spoke. “Ohkahy.” In a muffled, drawn-out answer she spoke, and suddenly blushed just as hard as her speech was impaired.

Once Joyce walked into the kitchen, the idea of drinking from a bottle suddenly rung through Emily’s head yet again. She had already been using a sippy cup, but on the maturity meter this was a new low. It was another point of access to Emily’s already limited freedoms she had lost. Emmy’s freedoms, that is. Then again, Joyce regardless of the time or circumstances was often serving them both...In times like this though, the countless things which surrounded her and interacted with in various ways were all designed to service her as well as defer the sense of independence to someone else. The most glaring one was the portable bathroom hugging her hips, and now, there was a highchair to allow someone else to easily feed her, a bottle to prevent her from making spills, pacifiers to keep her soothed and silent, and a crib to keep her where she needed to be for sleepy time...Digesting it all was a little overwhelming, and as if to feel the demand of dependence personified, Emily lightly pressed a finger to the shield of her pacifier.

The pace things were moving at was rapid, and at times these situations could feel like Emily was being hit by a truck. That being said, what made it all so comprehensible and possible to digest was because this micromanaged baby lifestyle was all controlled by her most favorite person in the world: Joyce. The woman had proven she didn’t mind seeing Emily naked (Rather, encouraged it), wet herself, use the toilet, and do so many other countless, embarrassing things. She received it all with such happiness and gratitude, and returned an everlasting shower of love and affection for the girl. In some ways being small was nice, and Joyce only made it feel even more special. With a creeping happiness, she licked the banana-flavored silicon in her mouth.

A popping noise filled the room when a finger hooked around the ring of Emily’s pacifier gave it a small tug and the teat left her mouth. Clearly she’d been too focused on her own thoughts, because Joyce had re-entered the room with a filled bottle in hand.

“You can have it back later, but for now I want you on this.”

In exchange for the pacifier, Emily now held an adult-sized baby bottle in her hands, observing the light brown tint to it. It was her coffee drink!

“Coffee? But I thought I wasn’t supposed to...” She spoke hesitantly, questioning the rules she could recall from their very first breakfast. Right after the first morning meal, it was straight to milk and juice.

“Oh? Does that mean you’d like some juice instead?” Joyce asked, cocking a brow with a smirk. “Well, I suppose since that’s what you want...” As if she were reluctant, Joyce reached for the bottle which Emily promptly turned away with in order to protect her most prized possession. Playfully desperate, she did everything she could to deter her caretaker.

“No, no! I was just wondering! This is fine, really!” Following right after she stuck the bottle into her mouth and started to suck. Of course it tasted delicious, and it made her feel even more foolish for even questioning its second coming. Miracles were meant to be experienced, not analyzed. She stole a glance at Joyce who had ceased her advances, and seeing the smile on her face only made Emily grumpy because she knew that she’d given the exact reaction Joyce was looking for.

From Emily’s mild annoyance, it only made Joyce laugh as her intentions became quite obvious. Patting her on the head, taking advantage of the much thinner underwear between her legs she sat on her knees. “I think you keep forgetting that today’s your birthday, silly. I always want to make you feel nice and happy, but today I think I can make a few exceptions to our routine...”

As she continued to nurse, a small smile escaped Emily as the rhythmic petting continued.

“So?” Joyce broke the peaceful silence, rearing her face into Emily’s vision. “Did you find anything here you might wanna play with?”

Sheepishly, she shook her head no. She’d been so busy thinking that the time really flew by.

In a laughing fit, Joyce pulled Emily in for a hug while her hand scanned the playmat. “Do I really need to do everything for you? I don’t mind, but I’d really like some input here!” It was all in good fun, and the both of them knew it. Still, even Emily knew her incompetence over the most minor tasks was pretty laughable.

“Now come on, we have a nice big variety of things we can do,” Still in Joyce’s embrace, Emily was turned to face the greater portion of toys decorating the floor. “We can read a story,” Joyce lifted one of the thick picture books, printed with a happy-faced caterpillar on the front. “Maybe play with a few of those puzzles?” She lifted a logic puzzle Emily hadn’t recognized from last time. It was another mass of pieces that had yet to be taken apart. “Coloring?” She pointed to the box of crayons. “Stuffies?” She lifted countless different soft animals, all looking happy as could be with simple existence, just as Emily was feeling with Joyce. Gently rocking her shoulders, Joyce cooed and urged her to make a decision.

“Uhmm...stuffed animals, then!” Finally deciding, Emily threw herself at something blindly just to push them in some direction. It mattered little to her what they did, because she’d likely derive just as much pleasure from it compared to anything else.

“And we have a winner!” Joyce cheered as she corralled a handful within reach. Despite the excitement Joyce had spurred in her voice and leaving the iron hot to strike, a pile now lay before Emily and she somewhat watched them awkwardly…

Dumbly, Emily asked, “Well...what am I supposed to do with them?”

Joyce couldn’t help but snicker at the question, as her cluelessness made her all the more adorable. “What do you mean, ‘do with them’? You’re supposed to play! Haven’t you ever played with stuffed animals before? Dolls? Action figures?”

“Well...yeah...” Emily still spoke confusingly, recounting her genuine childhood which felt like light years ago. But now what? Quite frankly she was out of touch with her inner child...Joyce had aroused remnants of it, but this was still very much glued together by the love they had for each other. Finding direct substitutes for that was still very much a learning process.

“Let’s do it together then,” Joyce spoke as she’d already grabbed an ovular-looking one. Clearly it wasn’t an animal Emily had ever seen. Nevertheless the smile and two small black circles for eyes was cute in a simple way. It didn’t answer the question as to what Emily was looking at though. There were no distinguishable features on it other than it being white and incredibly soft-looking. Honestly, she could have mistaken it for a small pillow.

“This...” Emily tried her best to suppress a giggle, as she pressed her palm on the happy, soft ball. “Is a stuffed animal?” Taking it from Joyce’s hand and feeling a bit carefree at the moment she pressed her cheek into it and was rewarded by a soft and cushy response.

“Okay, okay, maybe they’re not all animals...” Joyce admitted as she sat on her own bottom and scooted Emily right into her lap. In Joyce’s arms, Emily seemed like a tiny package of giddiness and pleasant smells. With hair like silk and skin so smooth, Joyce wanted to hug her little girl tight and never let go. “They’re mostly animals,” She corrected herself. “But I thought that one looked cute too...” Joyce explained, trying to excuse her own blunder.

“I think it’s cute too, but what is it?” Inspecting, Emily kept turning it all over, looking for some distinguishable feature. Maybe that was its charm? That it wasn’t anything at all?

“It’s mochi, if I remember...Haven’t you ever seen them before?”

“Mochi? Really?” Emily looked at Joyce as if she hadn’t believed her for a moment, then back to the friendly face in question. Squinting her eyes as if it’d help, she restored her normal vision once it finally clicked. “I guess I see it,” Childhood memories started to return to her head in waves, and her teeth plunging into the squishy outer exterior just to snatch away some of the ice cream hidden inside was coming back to her. Although she was raised in America, her mom brought a good deal of her own culture too. “No, I definitely do.” A toothy smile formed across her face as she continued to poke and prod the squishy figure with her finger.

“Well, it can’t just stay as mochi forever, you need to name it, you know!”

“Name it? Why do I need to do that?”

“Wouldn’t it be hard not to call people by their names? What would I do if I couldn’t call my little girl Emmy?” She pointed her finger to herself, which was right where Emily was sitting. “What would you call me if I wasn’t named Joyce, or Mommy?” Her point was obvious, and factually sound, yet when used as the basis for naming a stuffed piece of dessert it was clear just how much a silly notion was being overcompensated for…“All important things need names, because that’s how we recognize them! Mr.Bear is gonna need one too, ya know.”

It’s funny how creativity always seems to be there when you need it the least, and as scarce as fire in an ocean when you need it the most. As Emily stared back at the fake piece of mochi, absolutely nothing dawned upon her. Every name she could think of wasn’t fitting for a squishy and soft piece of sweetness.

Sarah, Carol, Alex, Carly, Anna, Amy, Natalie, they were all incredibly basic, which is why she tried toning down the syllables.

As countless sounds rambled through her head, one along the conveyor headed straight to the bin suddenly slipped off its track and fell down the hole from her brain to her mouth, which stumbled out into the open.

“Pip…?” Even she didn’t sound sure of the name itself, if you could even call it that. But wasn’t that the point of names? Words only had meaning if you gave it to them...Without that, everything anyone ever said was all just senseless babble. As if for confirmation she looked back to Joyce. “How’s that?”

“Don’t look at me, silly! They’re your stuffie! It’s not about what I think, it’s only about what you want. But if my opinion did matter...I think it’s a perfect name.”

“Pip it is, then.” Almost serious, Emily gave her head a small nod to her new inanimate friend, as if a contract had then been formed. Then with an exaggerated sigh Emily leaned her entire body back into Joyce, who could easily handle the smaller girl’s weight. Doing her best to stare up at Joyce while holding Pip to complete the trio, jokingly she whined, “Playing with stuffed animals is hard. Can we do something else?”

“Such a lazy baby...” Fawning over her significant other who had managed to incite such pleasing emotions, Emily’s ability to lose herself to the process was beyond gratifying as was the extent it was being taken to was ridiculously funny.

“How about you color a pretty picture for mommy, then? Sound a bit more fun?”

“Is there gonna be time for other stuff, though?”

“I don’t want to see you looking at the clock, missy.” The countless windows in the house would be a dead giveaway, but it’s not like they’d say much until the later hours...It was obvious this morning’s incident was still having its ramifications, and it annoyed Joyce that Emily was feeling forced to choose her actions based on this. She wanted Emily to feel unrestrained, and unfortunately that total feeling couldn’t be realized. “Now march your butt over to the couch. I’ll get the crayons and coloring book.”

---

Hmm, this one seemed to have taken an extra day or two...or three...Sorry about that! Things have been busy. Nevertheless I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and look forward to hearing your thoughts!

[kirababy]

the tension in the background is still there about the impending visit.  love how Joyce is downplaying it for Emily, but I suspect it will be a struggle to host.

[BabySofia]

I'm glad you didn't go to instant panic and put stuff away mode here... I don't envy her putting the baby stuff away for the visit! I would love to have a crib... but I don't know what I'd ever do when family came to visit me...

[BabySiras]

This continues to be adorable and entertaining. I continue to await the next chapter after every release

 

[Mee]

On 2/24/2019 at 6:33 AM, kirababy said:

the tension in the background is still there about the impending visit.  love how Joyce is downplaying it for Emily, but I suspect it will be a struggle to host.

There might be some challenges along the way, but who knows? Maybe everything could go off without a hitch? Right? Probably? As for Joyce, she's pretty determined to make Emily's birthday special. Even if there's an impending doom knocking on the door, she doesn't want Emily to feel rushed. Today for them is probably guaranteed, but for what's to follow is a little more uncertain...Thanks for commenting!

On 2/24/2019 at 10:35 AM, BabySofia said:

I'm glad you didn't go to instant panic and put stuff away mode here... I don't envy her putting the baby stuff away for the visit! I would love to have a crib... but I don't know what I'd ever do when family came to visit me...

Bring it out to tease just to reel it back in? I think that'd be a little too cruel on my part ? Granted, with what's to follow I can't say I'm totally merciful either. I've heard from a lot of people that I've really kept a slow burn with this story. Personally, though, I think it's worth investing in all aspects of their relationship to round off an overall nice package. As for the family bit, it'd definitely be a bit dicey. Joyce has really pulled out all the stops for this and has gone all in, but at the same time, she's slipping closer to the danger zone. Maybe she's already in too deep?

Thanks for the input, and I hope you continue to enjoy!

On 2/24/2019 at 11:16 AM, BabySiras said:

This continues to be adorable and entertaining. I continue to await the next chapter after every release

 

Me too! Lol, but in all seriousness thanks a bunch! Real life things have been getting busier, but I still want to keep writing for this story. I don't have any plans to take a break, so I'd say it's fair to expect gradual progress on the quieter days.

[Mee]

15 - A Typical Day

“Ooh!” Joyce happily wowed as she watched Emily diligently work at the page in the book. A handful of thick, dull-pointed crayons were lazily strewn about the glass table top, and she had planted herself in between the coffee table and couch. Joyce was right beside her, only sitting on the couch. On top of this the band still held true to their new trio. Emily wasn’t sitting on the floor, and in fact on her knees. Somewhat, at least. The new third member, Pip, forced the image of not only just a dessert to Emily, but also a convenient cushion…Between her legs, the denim skirt to her dress was just barely covering the unfaltering smile sewn on its pudgy body. Her bottom was getting nicely acquainted with Pip’s entire body, and if visuals were any indication, he didn’t seem to mind.

“That birdy looks very cute,” Joyce commented as Emily with extreme care worked her blue crayon along the thick black lines; the kind that was forgiving for the countless aspiring artists who maybe got a little too excited with their coloring…

Emily was just as engaged as was Joyce enthralled through sheer spectatorship. A little handheld creative expression was always fun, because things like this were meant to point you down a path and all that’s left is to step on the gas. Playing with stuffed toys was oddly intimidating because there were no safety rails. The art of acting like a kid could certainly not be underestimated, and learning how to play wasn’t an easy job... 

The canvas like any other had been pure white; absent of influence and in a state of patience waiting to be disturbed. The brushes and tools of illustration caused ripples across the page, and despite being heavily regulated by the printers preceding Emily’s own unique touch, she breathed life into the commercialized blueprint. It was especially satisfying for Joyce watching it all come together. The most distinct pieces to the page were a chirping bird, her baby chicks sitting in their nest, perched high on the tree. The branch supporting the small family followed an expanding path into a much more girthy tree trunk, and beyond the foreground decorated in leaves was a distant field marked by a stream trailing off to the horizon.

The mama bird was the first and only thing Emily’d worked on, and Joyce always loved to see a big plan come together. When each and every individual aspect was treated with care and caution, once assembled it would yield an amazing product.

“You’re such a careful colorer, my little artist,” Joyce spoke in a syrupy voice, stroking Emily’s hair which only heightened the pleasant atmosphere the girl was immersed in.

“Well I don’t wanna mess it up...” Emily sheepishly explained, suddenly embarrassed by her own dedication. “It needs to look neat.”

“It needs to look like you had fun coloring,” Joyce corrected. “Nobody here expects anything of you but to have fun and be happy! If that’s what does it for you though, then I want you to take as long as you want. More importantly, why did you make the birdy blue?”

“Because it looks like a blue jay,” Emily shifted from outline work to a steady back and forth scribble, filling in the white space with an even stroke and pace. “Why?”

“No reason...” Joyce’s voice trailed as she continued to look on with just as much amusement. “What are you gonna color next? Tell Mommy how my little girl’s planned it out!” Her curiosity over the tiniest details had her on the edge of her seat.

In the middle of her small set of words, Emily had paused to take a sip--a suck, or two from her bottle. The drink was good, and even despite being in a bottle it hardly put a damper on the taste.

“I dunno, the leaves?” She briefly scanned the page, honestly unsure herself. There was no rhyme or reason to her approach or angle, and what her next plan of action would be spur of the moment. Whatever she felt like doing was what she’d do next.

The tv had been playing in the background which helped as a degree of white noise for the two, but the forefront of their attentions were either focused on the drawing or the artist. It was pretty clear who was watching what. Finally, the parental bird had been colored solid and the chicks would come later on. Emily felt like targeting something else right now, and the leaves were looking a little too lifeless for her tastes...As a mental memory, without looking over to it, Emily set her hand right where the green crayon should’ve been, and then her complacency was interrupted by stupidity when she’d only managed to press her hand against the glass.

Finally looking, Emily swept her vision across the table and crayon box, realizing the green had mysteriously disappeared. She looked around her knees, legs, and feet, but there wasn’t anything to be found. Nothing other than Pip, of course.

“Joyce, did you see where I put the green?” She turned back to Joyce, who looked just a neutral as she’d always been. Only...there was something that told Emily she was playing a part in this mischief…

“No? What do you mean?” Without moving from her spot, she looked to her own sides on the couch, finding nothing either.

“I could have sworn I left it on the table...” Passively, she explained whilst her mind wandered elsewhere, still searching for her tool.
“Did you check the floor?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see anything...”

“Your pocket?” Singular. The only pocket Emily had to keep watch of was the one sewn on the front of her dress. Still, she was pretty sure she would have noticed if a fat crayon had snuck its way in there...Nevertheless, although not expecting it, she didn’t pay much mind when Joyce leaned forward to open it for her. Peering inside herself, all there was at the bottom was the denim crease. Empty.

“That’s strange...” Joyce spoke simply, adjusting the front of Emily’s skirt.

Inflating her cheeks with mild annoyance, Emily gave a brief mumble.“Now I can’t finish the leaves...” Until the green runaway could be found, the remaining white space fell back into the forefront of her mind; deciding what she could color next until the green showed itself again.

“Why can’t you finish the leaves?” Joyce asked, breaking Emily’s concentration.

Mindlessly while she spoke, Emily wrapped her hands on Joyce’s knee and nuzzled her cheek into it. “Because I don’t have the green?” For some reason, this was starting to feel oddly repetitive.

Joyce grabbed the box of crayons and finished emptying its contents onto the table, saying, “Leaves aren’t just green, silly.” She organized them in an orderly line for Emily to see. “Leaves are whatever color you want them to be!”

Well, she wasn’t wrong...The brown, yellow, red, and orange crayons were all likely candidates as well. Who said it had to be summer or spring? Fall was perfectly viable too. Nonchalantly, Emily went for the red crayon, but was quickly shut out by a much more adult hand guarding the path.

“Joyce...” Emily whined in a pretending groan. “Why can’t I use the red?”

“Were you thinking about the Fall?”

“Y...yes?” What was she doing wrong? And how was her mindset that predictable? It was just a drawing! What’s the point in creativity if you can’t create as you please? The whole situation was starting to feel like some grand oxymoron the further Emily drowned in her one-sided conclusions. “You said they weren’t just green!”

“I know I did, and that’s true,” Joyce agreed, only mucking up Emily’s sense of clarity further. “But I think you’re missing the point, honey.” Watching Emily’s frustrations mildly boil almost had Joyce giggling the slightest, just because she knew how minor of a detail she was getting so hung up on. In that way Emily truly resembled a happy-go-lucky child. They’d never once known what it was like to encounter an adult responsibility, which is why even the smallest challenges or upsets to them was like trying to move a mountain. Her intentions were of course all good, but it was clear Emily wasn’t getting the fuller picture…

Before she responded, Emily paused to take another sip from her bottle, causing Joyce’s heart to flutter at the sight. And as more time went on, a feeling in Emily’s bladder she’d been trying to ignore had come knocking more frequently with each passing moment. It was a double-edged sword, really. At the cost of delicious drinks and wonderful caffeine, it was her toilet habits that had to pay the toll. The feeling though was just starting to reach the point of downright uncomfortable. She was becoming distracted though. She’d deal with the bathroom later, or quite possibly her diaper might…

“Why can’t I pick the colors I want?” She looked at Joyce questioningly. “I thought it was my drawing?”

“You can use any colors you want,” Joyce lifted her hand off the red crayon, and moved over to Emily’s head with a pat. “I just want to express yourself freely. Don’t think about how things should be.”

Truthfully, Emily was still lost, and she didn’t feel like she was any closer to the truth. “I still don’t get it...” Annoyed at her own incompetence, she mumbled right before taking another sip.

“Yes you do, pouty pants,” Joyce lightly chided as she slipped into the space right next to Emily and onto her own knees. Even with Pips support, Emily didn’t come close to being as tall as Joyce. “You just don’t realize it yet.”

“I’m not mad...” Emily sheepishly whined at the sound of the name “pouty pants.” Her cheeks burned and despite being the one who insulted her, she leaned closer into Joyce.

Chuckling, Joyce continued. “Then prove it to me. I want you to stop thinking logically. Color whatever you want with whatever color you want! Make the rivers green! Make the grass orange! Who said trees had to be brown? And there’s no need for the leaves to be green. I want to know what Emmy thinks they should be. Whatever color that feels right to you is what you should be using.”

Whatever feels right. Still puzzled, Emily looked down on the drawing, as well as to the crayons. On paper, what Joyce was saying finally made sense, but from how Emily understood it, she was supposed to detach herself from rational thought altogether and let her feelings dictate the canvas? What was she, some sort of mindless kid?

Oh, right.

Apprehensively she looked at the array of colors, as if she were about to cut the wrong wire. The more she sat there with her thoughts, the more frustrating it became. She couldn’t even play with stuffed toys, and now she couldn’t color? How pathetic could she be?

“I still can’t do it, Joyce...” With a slightly upturned lower lip, Emily slumped over in a defeated stature. More than anything she hated to fail Joyce’s expectations and second to that was her own inability to be creative.

“Yes you can, and you already have. You’re overthinking it!”

As much as she loved Joyce, it still didn’t change that it was annoying to be told she could do something when she was adamant she can’t. What was perplexing about her encouragement though was Joyce saying she’d already done it. How? This was the first time she’d ever picked up a crayon around her!

“All you need to do is simply...” Joyce leaned in close to Emily’s ear, and her following words tickled the surface of her skin with her warm, lovely breath. “Let go...”

She kept stroking Emily’s back as she continued to encourage her little girl and help her find her place yet again. “Just let yourself fall into things. You’ve been doing it all this morning. When you were in your nursery, when I fed you in your high chair, put you in your nice and soft clothes that Amy made for you? Didn’t all of that make you feel so fuzzy? Or did I not give you enough kisses? Is that it?” On cue, she started to assault Emily with countless pecks on the cheek, earning a torrent of giggles as Emily without moving from her spot tried to avoid them. With each peck and whisper though, her soft voice almost resembled the beginnings of a light hypnosis.

Finally the kissing stopped, and Joyce moved on. “When kids play they don’t think too hard about it, silly.” She playfully tapped her finger on Emily’s bare forehead. “And neither should you. It’s about living in the moment and having fun with it. There’s no one here to tell you how things need to be or should be. I’ll always love you whether you’re my big girl or baby, but whenever you’re my little girl, I think you’ll have a lot more fun when you start acting like it. And don’t tell me you can’t, because I’ve seen you firsthand already have giggle fits, and you’ve already done things like making a new friend, drinking from a bottle, using a pacifier?”
The countless things she listed off was suddenly trying to call her back to her adult mindset, where the embarrassment and shame was waiting on the other side.

“And I don’t mean that as a bad thing,” Joyce spoke almost sternly, as if to scare away the big and bad adult thoughts in her head. Only the happy, baby Emmy was allowed to come out and play. Mama Bear wouldn’t let anyone or anything affect that, even if it were Emily herself. “These are all wonderful signs that show you know how to relax; how to be my little girl...”

The reminder of a sense of ownership is what resonated within Emily the most. She belonged to Joyce, and she wanted to show it too. As she looked down at herself, clad in a diaper, dress, and onesie, it was suddenly becoming harder and harder to consider adult things at the moment. She started to remember the short banter she had with Joyce in the nursery; naked except for a bra and diaper whilst she was caught in a tickle attack. There wasn’t any shame in that moment, and here she was in more clothing than in that moment. Yes. She was starting to feel it.

The further she sunk, the more tangible it started to feel. That sense of playfulness she’d been continuously tapping into. It was coming somewhere from within, and she could feel it drawing closer to the surface. All she needed to do was push; push and it would make itself known! She could feel the pressure as such familiar feelings were ready to burst. Yes! She’d finally found it! Then on command, she couldn’t hold back anymore and let the feeling envelop her. It was warm, seemingly wonderful, and...and...and wet?

Despite having her eyes closed, that feeling of happiness she thought she’d taken hold of was suddenly feeling extremely limited from the waist down, and not as happy as she thought. It was almost like a liquid pouring out of her...No, it definitely was. It was like a stream; hot, wet, and something she couldn’t stop. Regardless, she let out an involuntary sigh as whatever she’d just expelled from within had taken some effort. But then she started to feel it; creeping all over her skin and in her diaper...Quietly, she could only look at anything but Joyce while she emptied her bladder. Frankly, what she thought was the answer was just her bladder calling...and she answered it. As it pooled in her diaper, she slightly panicked.

Without much regard for who was watching, Emily lifted her denim skirt, fearing the worst as stopping the pee was a hopeless cause. Thankfully as her seemingly unending stream did stop, she didn’t seem to have leaked...Leaning forward just a little bit, her friend Pip seemed to be alright too, though she could feel the pee that had yet to be fully absorbed slosh ever so slightly in her underwear. Her diaper though felt noticeably squishier and slightly heavier…

“J...Joyce, I...” Emily started with a quiet whimper, almost on the verge of tears, but a pacifier was suddenly between her lips. If anything, maybe the taste of bananas could calm her nerves.

“Shh, it’s alright.” Soothingly, Joyce guided Emily’s hands from her skirt, letting it fall back to her knees. With enough physical encouragement, Joyce eased the reluctant girl back onto Pip, the glorified bum-cushion, causing Emily to wince once she could feel the more prominent squish. “Don’t worry, you’re fine, see?” With much more sympathetic maternalism, Joyce was much slower with her next kiss, taking her time to convey as much serenity and security is possible. Emily while willingly accepting the skinship could only try and be comfortable with reddening cheeks and her posture.

“No leaks, you’re all good. All dry, see? Don’t worry about what goes on down there, okay?” It was unspokenly clear that her notion referred to what was beneath the pale, yellow onesie. “Let’s go back to coloring. That’s a lot more fun and interesting, right?” Meekly, Emily could only nod her head. Thankfully Joyce somehow made it all bearable. More than anything she was afraid of the mess she’d cause...It felt even worse knowing that this was one wetting on top of another. Twice she’d wet this diaper.

It wasn’t how Joyce wanted to ease her into things, but regardless of whether it was an inch or a mile, there were an awful lot of inches in a mile…

“You know you’re not supposed to be embarrassed about your diapers around me?” Raising a brow, she looked at Emily with a smirk, silent from the pacifier, but her cheeks burning even harder. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be, but breaking a habit to not be embarrassed was impossibly difficult. Just because birds had wings, that didn’t mean they knew how to fly from the get-go. It wasn’t so much that Joyce saw her do it, but rather she did the deed to begin with.

“Okay, come on,” Joyce sounding much more upbeat guided Emily’s hand over to the crayons. “Pick a color that makes you happy! Or maybe silly?”

Desperate for a distraction, Emily quickly looked the crayons over, and in a mildly frenzied state she had only but instinct to rely on which was screaming purple. Something about it called to her, and she couldn’t place a good reason as to why. It just felt...right.

“Now all you need to do,” Joyce grabbed Emily’s hand holding the crayon, and aimed it at the page in the coloring book. She pressed down for her, and not a moment later the purple had touched ground. “Is move that hand and have fun with it!”

Under normal circumstances, purple had no place in this drawing. There was no reason for it. The leaves were green, the tree was brown. The birdies were blue, the sun was yellow, the river was turquoise…

But...but why couldn’t the leaves be purple? Or the tree be red? The more she stared at the page, it felt as if Emily’s senses were heightened, and for real this time she was falling back into a familiar place. Between her lifelong absolutes and givens, much more illogical wedges slipped right in. The grass suddenly looked blue, and the idea of yellow birds seemed much more appealing now...With a new sense of creativity flooding in her mind like pee into her diaper, she dressed her canvas in a new blanket of inspiration.

---

A small clacking noise was the last thing to be heard when the piece was finally finished. Beside the page were countless crayons of varying wear; clearly used for scribbles and more detailed scrawls. Unorthodox in every sense, the image looked as if a rainbow had thrown up on it. The leaves were indeed purple, and the bark was a crimson red. The baby birds must have been stolen from their true home, because the yellow chicks clearly didn’t match their bluer parent.

As Emily looked at it, even though the color scheme had no rhyme or reason, an odd sense of pride filled her...As if she’d accomplished something greater than the drawing itself. Picked up the book, she pivoted on her waist and held it in front of Joyce, who was mimicking the toothy smile Emily now had, only her’s was partly hidden by the pacifier.

In a muffled cheer, Emily yelled, “Done!”

Suddenly with a spectator; a critic for her work, Emily started to become much more mindful of her efforts now. Letting Joyce take the book from her, she shuffled her knees slightly in anticipation for what the review would be. But as she watched Joyce observe the page, her smile never seemed to falter, and if anything grow wider.

“It’s beautiful, my little Picasso!”

Hearing her fawn over the drawing somehow made Emily feel irrationally well; proud of what she’d done. She had poured her heart and soul into something so trivial, yet Joyce acknowledged all of it and only sung with praise. That fuzzy feeling of warmth and being saturated in affection was what she was feeling, and she loved every second of it.

Finally removing the pacifier from her mouth, Emily twiddling her thumbs addressed the most glaring issue with the drawing.

“I...I was gonna make all the birds the same color, but I changed my mind and picked yellow...Now they don’t look the same...” In her mind Joyce’s happiness made the drawing perfect, but her personal blunder took it down just a level from that.

“I think I like it more this way,” Joyce spoke in a calm voice, as if her speech was secondary to pensive thought. Her eyes kept spanning the masterpiece whilst she made note of every little detail.

“What do you mean?” What did she mean? Wouldn’t it be better if all the birds were the same color? Or at least stick to a theme and make them all multicolored…

“Just because the Mama bird is blue, why should her babies have to be?”

“Well...because...” Such a simple question seemed to have stumped Emily. Wasn’t it supposed to be a given that they’d be blue? Blue birds gave birth to blue birds after all…“Because they’re her babies? Wouldn’t they look the same?”

“I don’t think so,” Joyce with her motherly tone continued while Emily watched from below like an attentive student during story time. “What matters is that the baby birds are loved, and love their Mama. It doesn’t matter if they look the same or not.”

It was true, but for some reason Emily still wasn’t fully convinced...She felt like there was an analogy here she wasn’t getting...Joyce could read her expression on her face, and finally unveiled the shroud to really drive the point home, or at least give a concrete example.

“Well, aren’t you my baby girl?”

Hearing those words put an involuntary smile on Emily’s face while she bashfully tried to look away. The glaring antithesis to her own thought process had been in front of her the whole time. How could she have been so stupid? She and Joyce both came from different walks of life, but here they were...Mother and her daughter…

Joyce set the coloring book back on the table, and grabbed a corner of the page with a firm grip.”I know exactly where I want this to go...” Excitement was evident in Joyce’s voice, and suddenly Emily grew a little bit nervous. Staring at the page now, the hidden connection was suddenly made as Emily could now see the perforated edge to the page. They were meant to be torn out…

“Joyce? What are you doing?” Emily tried to confirm her suspicions; her worst fears.

“Well we can’t leave something as pretty as this locked up!” Joyce happily explained, and with a quick tear the page in all its splendor had been removed from the book. “Now come on, sweetie, every good drawing needs its artist’s signature!” She leaned in for a playful whisper, “That’s how they’re worth lots of money!” Emily couldn’t help but snicker hearing Joyce elevate her work to the level of the greats, and seemingly make her feel like she was at the top of the world. Grabbing a black crayon, Emily conceded and signed a uniform, textbook ‘E’ at the bottom right corner.

“Now it’s perfect.” Joyce approvingly nodded her head, helping Emily up on her feet and walking to the kitchen. Awkwardly Emily waddled slightly now that the bulk between her legs had gotten a bit bigger…

Joyce rummaged through a drawer and found what she needed, taking the drawing and pressing it against the fridge, pinning it in place with a magnet. There as it hung on the door, there was very mixed reactions coming from the two as they stared.

“But won’t people see it?” Worriedly, Emily asked. She was okay with Joyce seeing it, but now that it was on public display for anyone in the house and she’d signed her first initial on it, who knows what could happen? She was starting to feel less confident about her coloring job.

“That’s the whole point,” Joyce said while smoothening Emily’s hair. “And when you’re like this, you can take credit for it all you want. And when you’re a big girl? Well...We can just say my friend’s niece made some art for me.”

Still uncertain, Emily watched the drawing nervously. “Can’t...can’t we just take it down instead? Put it somewhere more private?”

“Nope!” Joyce happily declined as she steered Emily back into the living room.

Not expecting a complete and total denial, Emily spoke with a bit of surprise. “Wh-What do you mean, no? But...but...” She tried to think of a way to retaliate, but Joyce was the one in charge…

“You said you wanted me to take a little more control, and I am,” Soothingly Joyce rubbed Emily’s back. “No one’s going to find out that it’s yours, unless you want to of course.” They both knew the answer to that. “But like you said, I should be taking charge a little bit more. You’re gonna need to trust me on stuff like this.”

She wanted to trust Joyce, really, she did, but it wasn’t so easy to put all your stock in some other person. With Joyce she already could a great deal, but it was still something to get used to.

Back in the living room, Emily picked up her near-empty bottle, asking, “Could I have some more coffee, please?”

Joyce took the bottle from her, but didn’t receive her with complete compliance. “Why don’t we try just juice or straight milk?”

“I thought you said it was my birthday?” Emily with a fake, laughable expectant tone interjected. At the same time, didn’t Joyce say she’d be getting some leeway today?

“It is, and if that’s what you want I’ll give it to you, but I just don’t want you to be too energetic right before you go down for your nap...” Joyce looked at the bottle for a moment.

Nap? She still had to take one today? Suddenly her mind was flashing back to the nursery, when Joyce threatened to make her nap longer… “But do I have to?” For once it was a wholehearted, genuine complaint.

“Yes,” Joyce smiled sympathetically, “You do.”

“But your parents are coming tomorrow!” Emily tried to defend her position; find some way to overcome the impossible barrier known as nap time. “Shouldn’t we be spending as much time together as possible?” She was a big fan of sleep, but she was an even bigger fan of playing with Joyce.

“Little girls need a little break to be nice and energetic for the second half of the day,” Joyce explained, as she walked back into the kitchen for the second time, with a complaining and protesting Emily as the caboose. She unscrewed the top of the bottle. “Birthday or not.”

Suddenly coupled by hanging her drawing, and being absolute about her nap, Joyce was starting to feel an awful lot like a...like a mother.

“But when they come, we can’t do this again until they leave!” Emily whined yet again, focusing her frustrations on the inability to maintain their play time. She harbored no ill will against Joyce’s parents, but she could feel herself wanting to cling desperately to what they had.
Joyce merely tutted her voice, opening the fridge. “Emmy’s already starting to sound a bit cranky...” She smirked looking back to the girl. “Maybe we should put you down a little bit early?” Visibly annoyed and distraught, Emily could only watch silently as Joyce continued her rhythm. “I know you’re having fun, and I am too,” Joyce was back to her calm, non-teasing self. “But having a routine is a part of the package. You may not like it, but that’s how things are. I’m supposed to be your Mommy right now, remember?”

Indeed, she was, and Emily could feel it so greatly. It felt impossible to defy what Joyce said, as it was law. She could try and struggle, but they both knew who would win in the end. It was admittedly part of why Emily was enjoying this so much…

“I know my parents are coming tomorrow and you’re feeling a little rushed, but there’s still a whole lot of time left for us to be together. And hey, how about this? Maybe an earlier nap time isn’t such a bad idea after all...Why don’t I put you down for your nap early so we can get started even sooner for the afternoon?”

Unsure of how to answer, Emily could only stare at Joyce helplessly. She wouldn’t be getting her way, that was certain, but she had the power to at least mitigate her frustrations. She was being a brat, and Joyce only continued to love her. Maybe taking a nap sooner was better...She’d be much too focused on its impending doom later on otherwise.

“Okay...” Meekly, Emily sighed as she accepted Joyce’s loving stares.

“It’s settled then. But for that reason, I think I’m going to make an executive decision and swap you over to juice...” Joyce had already put the milk away.

After the bottle was filled, Emily was escorted back to the nursery where two important pieces of furniture laid.

“First things first,” Joyce catching Emily by surprise hoisted her up and onto the changing table, pulling the strap over her. Powerless to stop her, as well as never intending to, Emily resigned herself to Joyce as she unsnapped the crotch of her onesie and flipped the denim skirt up for better access. Joyce silently noted the obvious discoloration, and pronounced bulk from the effective absorption. The diaper still looked like it could take a bit more, but Joyce figured it was not only enough for Emily’s efforts, but nap time should always earn a change if one was warranted.

The whole time while she set out to work, Joyce fell into her pacifying hum, which was almost enough to distract Emily from the new diaper being slipped underneath her bottom, and the powder over her crotch. Once she was all taped up, Joyce redid the onesie and set her back on the ground. Emily was happy to be dry again.

“Arms up like a ballerina, Emmy,” Joyce encouraged, while Emily lifted her arms straight into the air. Grabbing it by the denim straps, Joyce lifted the dress portion off of Emily and she was left in just a yellow, form-fitting onesie. Suddenly Emily felt a tad bit lighter, and was passively aware of how the swaying sensation of a skirt had left her.

Unlatching it, the crib’s side had been lowered, and with Joyce’s help placed Emily inside of it. She noticed the obvious difference in size compared to her normal bad; half the width and slightly shorter in length. She wasn’t in a tight space by any means; slightly bigger than maybe a college dorm bed. As she sat there, criss-cross, she nudged the small pile of stuffed animals guarding her pillow. The onesie was soft, her feet were covered in socks, the diaper’s interior was admittedly soft, and the mattress was cushy and foamy. The bars surrounding her provided an odd sense of security, and she didn’t seem to mind them as much as she thought she would. Everything surrounding her and what she was clothed in came from someone else. It was all put into place by another person despite it all being meant for Emily. She hadn’t a hand in even the food that went in her belly. Everything was done for her, and for a brief moment she could forget what it was like to be independent.

When Joyce raised the lowered crib side, Emily realized that there might be a small struggle in getting over it by herself...Not impossible, but not easy…

Setting the bottle in the crib beside her, Joyce helped Emily get underneath the covers and situated.

“Now you get all nice and rested up for me, got it?” Joyce spoke in a hushed voice, already trying to talk Emily into a sleepy setting. She closed the curtains to the windows for the most part, but the outer edges of daytime still bled through the cracks between the shades and outside world. She was doing her best not to be too energetic, lest that rub off on the girl who should be feeling fatigued and tired. Emily, however, had her heart beating a mile a minute despite being so comfy all over. Not only was she back in the nursery, but in her crib for the first time to boot. From head to toe she was dressed like an infant, and she’d been given a nap time bottle in case she got thirsty...Sometimes Joyce played her part too well, because Emily could find little distinction between herself and a normal baby. She’d have no trouble falling asleep with how comfy she felt, but she was simply too excited to calm herself.

“Joyce?”

“What is it, hon?”

“I don’t feel tired...”

“That’s because you’re not trying to sleep, silly.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just...excited, that’s all...”

“Well, I think I’d beg to differ.” Joyce happily hung her head over the top of the crib, and her face shined down on Emily like the sun. Or the moon, given the room had been made darker.

Seeing Joyce look so unconvinced strangely had Emily giggling for no reason whatsoever. “I’m serious, though!” Emily raised her voice a little, trying to master her own emotions as well as convince Joyce otherwise.

“I think it’s because you haven’t tried going to sleep yet.” With one hand, she laid it on Emily’s shoulder and gently pushed her back onto the mattress. Emily’s head collided with the feathery and fluffy pillow. She didn’t even know if the thing was stuffed with feathers, but it felt like a cloud nonetheless. “I’ll stay by your side until you’re off to sleepy land,” Joyce reassured, holding Emily’s hand through the bars.

“Joyce?”

“What is it, sweetie?”

“How come you picked me?”

“Picked you?”

Needing to elaborate further had Emily feeling a little nervous and awkward.

“Y...yeah. Ever since that night on the street, I’ve always wondered why you stopped for me...”

Dancing her thumb in Emily’s palm, Joyce pondered the question for a moment.

“It’s...hard to explain, but there was something about you. There still is.” For a brief moment, she looked into Emily’s eyes which were laying on the pillow. “When I saw you I thought to myself, ‘This person seems special to me. I don’t know why, but I want to chase that feeling.’ And of course you looked down on your luck, but...” She chuckled, realizing she had no real answer. “Maybe that’s what they call love at first sight?” She didn’t know what kind of love she had for Emily, but it was one that involved physical affection, and she was more than satisfied by discovering it as time went on.

Emily’s heart thumped heavily at the words, hearing Joyce relaxedly confess her emotions. But at the same time, the crib’s mattress, pillow, and blankets were feeling soft...In a way it was soothing enough just to hear Joyce speak, just like when she hummed. Everything about her seemed so calming, through and through.

“Did you plan to talk me into this when we first met?” The feelings behind her question were of a blank slate. She had no motive and was simply curious. It was clear by this point she’d acclimated to being Joyce’s baby girl, but it made Emily wonder if this was the plan all along.

“No...” Joyce answered simply, staring off into space. “Everything about you I found and still find adorable,” She brushed Emily’s cheek, who blinked her eyes heavily. “I think I started to fantasize though pretty early on, about us; enjoying some sort of relationship like this. I never thought it’d happen in a million years, though...” Her last sentence came off as thick, and almost shaky. “What I was so attracted to in the beginning was being able to let you feel so carefree; like everything being taken care of, not having to lift a finger. I don’t think I’ll ever know why I feel that way, but I still enjoy it despite not knowing why.” Memories of their earlier days resurfaced, and she could still picture the night she’d gotten Emily her first wave of clothes; the fashionista trying on every bit. Truthfully, she wanted to see her in some of the more revealing items, that being just underwear, but what it would symbolize to Joyce was a sign of acceptance, and a willingness to be unreserved around Joyce. Again, it was what the act represented, not so much the deed itself.

“And...what else…?” Her words were becoming more drawn out. Clearly she wasn’t as energetic as she’d thought. Everything around her was working against her, but at the same time towards her objective benefit. Her eyes slightly wandered about the room, catching Mr.Bear’s neutral, yet happy face, the thick carpet, the unoccupied changing table, the hanging paintings on the wall...Joyce. “How can I be a better baby…?”

Joyce let out a small laugh, stifled mostly to keep Emily from getting any of her energy back. There were a few things that came to mind which would make these experiences all the more genuine and amazing, but Joyce would never totally force something on Emily. Besides, things, as they were, were already perfect. Anything on top of this would have been a bonus. And if Emily didn’t discover it herself, there would be no mutual enjoyment. What she did eye though was the diaper bulge behind Emily’s onesie. There was still one last way she could use it and she had yet to try that it. Joyce wasn’t looking forward to it, either, namely because it would be certain to cause Emily a meltdown. She hated to see her girl be so distraught.

“In the short term?” Joyce brought a finger to her chin like she needed to give it some thought. “Going to sleep, missy! This isn’t 20 questions. It’s called nap time for a reason!” Her joke earned a sleepy smile from Emily. “But as for everything else, I couldn’t ask for more than you just having fun with it. A happy baby makes a happy mommy. You’re perfect just the way you are, Emmy.” Finally, Emily’s eyes had closed, and Joyce could just hear the slight, rhythmic breathing through her nose. She was a slumbering angel, and Joyce did everything in her power so as not to disturb it.

Nudging the bottle by Emily’s side for just in case, Joyce quietly watched Emily for a few moments longer, and the longer she stared, the blurier her vision felt. Between the moments of fog in her eyes, they briefly cleared for short moments as it seemed to fall from her eyes, and soon be replaced by a new glossy tint. Covering her mouth with a hand, she could only watch Emily in an attempted silence.

Thank you, Emily! Thank you for everything you’ve done. For being with me, for accepting who I am, reciprocating the feelings I have for you...With one last smile, she sniffled as she closed the door to yet again a near, but not complete, close. Almost frustrated, she practically hated nap time as much as the one who needed to sleep through it. Blinking the final tears out of her eyes, Joyce rolled up her thick, sweater sleeves as she bent over the coffee table to tidy up the pile of crayons. Her little girl had certainly made a small mess of her toys, and Joyce was more than happy to clean them up. Apart from setting a few logic puzzles aside, she grabbed a bundle of the stuffed animals next and transitioned her audible steps across the hardwood floor into quiet muffs over the nursery carpet. While Emily innocently slumbered Joyce arranged them nicely in her toy chest.

And when she bent over, Joyce suddenly felt something in her pocket. Pulling it out, it was a small stick of green she happened to forget about. She’d need to remember to put this back...

---

“Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,” Joyce’s voice rose and fell to the rhythm, “Baker man! Bake me a cake as fast as you…?” Like a doting mother, Joyce left her charge the easiest part, yet still letting her feel like she could contribute.

“Can!” Emily finished chipperly, responsible for a single, measly lyric, yet regarding it with the weight of the world. Between each small pause, the small slapping noise of skin to skin from their claps filled the kitchen. Emily’s legs swung back and forth, suspended in the air whilst her little song with Joyce devolved into a mutual giggle fit.

“Mmm mmm!” Joyce jovially hummed as she kissed Emily all over, contently restrained to her high chair. “Too delicious for words! Maybe I should eat you up for lunch instead, huh?” Joyce continued to tease as she grabbed Emily’s dangling foot, sending the girl into further, mild hysterics.

With a new bib already tied around her neck, all that was left was for Joyce to move the plate of sliced up fruit over to Emily. The bottle of juice from her nap still remained, halfway full, but Joyce gave it a quick refresher by leaving it in the fridge for a little bit. And each and every time she swung the door open, Joyce always had Emily’s adorable drawing to fawn over.

“Somebody think they’re ready for some yummy fruit?” Taunting, Joyce set the plate on Emily’s tray. Decorated as a small platter, it was filled with grapes, apple and orange slices, as well as a few pieces of cantaloupe.

Happily and hungrily, Emily nodded her head as the food was finally within reach. Without a moment’s hesitation, she nabbed one of the apple slices, freed of its outer skin, and munched on the fulfilling slice. As good as it was, there was of course the slight tinge of sourness to it; the sourness that made you crave for more.

With her eyes focused on her phone, Joyce massaged Emily’s scalp as she ate, and even Joyce paused to grab a piece of orange from the plate. Her eyes then wandered to the cabinets, suddenly longing for something with a little bit more variety to it...She liked sweet, but too much of it was simply overbearing. Emily was the exception, of course.

“And while you eat your yummy fruit, Mommy’s gonna make a sandwich,” Joyce explained in simple terms, like she was speaking to a genuine toddler.

Suddenly at the thought of a sandwich, Emily found herself finding the idea of meat, vegetables, cheeses and other condiments much more appealing than a singular platter of fruit...Guiltily, she paused in between her bites to ask, “Could...could I have one too?”

Joyce turned back to the plate of fruit, seeing a few more pieces had disappeared since she last saw it. There wasn’t any trouble making one for Emily too, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t be able to get the whole thing down, with the fruit included...Again, money was no issue, and so be it if food didn’t get finished, but the idea of consciously wasting any wasn’t ideal…

“Tell you what,” Joyce opened her proposition and continued to untie the package of bread. “You split the fruit platter with me, and I’ll split my sandwich with you? Sound good?”

“But doesn’t that mean you won’t get to eat your whole sandwich?” Remorsefully, Emily asked, wishing not to impact Joyce’s own meal.

“No, that means Mommy’s being forced to stop being such a picky eater,” She continued to unload various things from the fridge. “Besides, I think a good mix of everything would be better for you.”

Emily knew it probably wasn’t the entire truth, and Joyce was just making it seem convenient. Despite what the truth really was though, Emily did her best to cling onto Joyce’s fabrications, knowing well by now that Joyce wouldn’t like to see her be so moody...While she waited, a piece of cantaloupe from the plate had mysteriously vanished.

“Joyce?”

“Uh-huh?”

“What’re you parents like?” Even Emily knew it was a bit ridiculous to be asking this late in the game, but it was better late than never…

Based on Joyce’s reaction, she didn’t seem to think it was as stupid as Emily thought, or at least didn’t let on for it to be.

“My mom and dad are nice,” Joyce spoke plainly, not sure how to add much flavor to people she considered somewhat mundane. In reality that wasn’t the case, but Joyce knew them more as parents than anything else. “I think I already told you that my dad likes to cook? From the sound of it he’s still at it. He taught me just about everything I know.”

“What about your mom?”

“About her...” Joyce repeated, trying to dig for something noteworthy. Correction, something positive, and noteworthy. Their last few chats over the phone weren’t what Joyce would consider splendid…“She’s very sociable. She likes meeting new people, and I think she might be all over you,” Joyce snickered, imagining their arrival tomorrow. That being said, she’d need to throttle her mom for Emily’s sake as well…

“And...how much do they know about...”

“Us?”

Emily quietly nodded her head.

“Well...you may have been able to guess, but since that night when you were sick, my mom has known about you.” She continued to chop away at the tomatoes. “And...” she finally looked over to Emily who seemed to be listening intently. “She knows we’re in a relationship...”

Underneath her onesie, Emily could feel her heart beat heavy at the sound of the reveal, suddenly feeling herself be swept into a tizzy that made it hard to keep her head straight. At the same time, she was much more attentive of the crinkle in her diaper when she squirmed. It was as if she could feel Joyce’s mother watching now.

“She...she does?” Almost afraid, Emily tried to confirm. And what was coupled with their bond was the biggest question of all: how to identify it.

“She does,” Joyce swept the chopped vegetables over to the side, unpackaging the meat next. “But! That’s why she’s so excited to meet you. I don’t know how much my dad knows, but I’m sure he’ll be looking forward to meeting you too.”

“But Joyce...what...what are we?” It wasn’t meant to hurt Joyce or come off as negative, but it was an important question that had been swept to the side for too long. As great as what they had was, it’s not like it could be deemed conventional…

“It...it can be whatever you want it to, but I want it to be clear that I do have feelings for you.” Joyce as openly as she could declared herself. Just like Emily, she wasn’t sure how sexual it was, and wasn’t opposed to moving forward, but her initial feelings were already right about where she expected them to be.

“That’s no fair,” Emily pouted, blushing at the sound of her sheer honesty. “Why do I have to be the only one to decide?”

“Fair enough,” Joyce conceded, speaking in a tone that no longer regarded Emily as her little girl. She’d be lying though if she said seeing her in the high chair, diaper, and onesie didn’t hurt the serious image…“I like you, Emily. Do you like me?”

“W...well...yeah...” Emily fidgeted in her seat nervously, unusually overwhelmed by such raw emotion. The waters still had yet to be totally charted, and she was confident she liked guys, but...maybe Joyce was an exception? She already had such strong feelings for Joyce, but she didn’t know how to identify them. They were on similar wavelengths, only that Joyce knew much better how to express them.

“Then how about we call ourselves girlfriends?” Once again, calmly, Joyce suggested the heavy-handed conclusion. Was it as easy as that, though? Emily couldn’t help but feel they would’ve had a tougher pill to swallow. Being Joyce’s girlfriend though...from here, what they had would be absolutely official. Other people, namely Joyce’s mom already knew there was something between the two, so all that was left was to give it a name. Maybe in a way their pace was rapid, but the kind of emotional bonding they’ve engaged in thus far has more than substituted for long term relationship building. It already was long term, just on a shorter scale.

“R...really? I’d be your...girlfriend?”

“Why not? I think it has a nice ring to it.”

Emily wasn’t completely sure why, but the title had her feeling giddy all over, like when she could slip into the shower after a long day at work, or sleeping in on a winter’s day. Joyce always knew how to give harmless words such meaning and impact.

“I’ve just...never had one before. That’s all.”

It wasn’t a total surprise to Joyce, given their special circumstances. Jack was her former lover though, so maybe Emily’s tendencies were somewhere in between? Maybe she just had yet to realize it?

“Well, now you can say that you have,” Pausing her prep work, Joyce came over to Emily, leaning in for a much more tender kiss than all the others. Emily received it like any other, but was a little shocked when instead of the cheek, chin, nose, or forehead; any of the usual spots, her lips locked with Emily’s, and an unusual sensation sparked through Emily, unlike any other kiss Joyce gave her. Not that any of the past ones were bad...but with this one, there was some, strange passion to it. Nothing like Emily had ever experienced before. A woman, no less. Emily blinked her eyes, her only form of response as Joyce finally pulled away, the smile of a genuine lover never leaving her.

“But, that’s only when you’re a big girl,” Like a quick 180, Joyce’s entire demeanor and attitude had turned on a dime, and the new, romantic Joyce Emily had just witnessed was as gone as fast as the mommy in her came. “Behind closed doors let’s not forget you’re my little girl!” Joyce grinned mischievously, eating up every morsel of Emily’s frazzled reaction. Without another word, Joyce turned back to the counter, and Emily still in a muted state, bit her lower lip with more confusion than she’d ever felt before. In mere moments something had changed, and now her emotions were starting to feel conflicted in the most wonderful ways.

“And about my dad,” Joyce broke the silence, including Emily’s deep thought. “He’s got a big, booming voice.”

Still on the page of serious discussions, Emily couldn’t help but spurt into a laugh as she heard Joyce’s description.

“Booming? What do you mean, booming?” It wasn’t much to go on, and that made it all the funnier.

“You know, deep, resounding, and...loud?” With each adjective, Joyce tried to visualize a sense of magnitude with expanding hands, causing Emily to laugh even further. “He might come off as intimidating at first. He always used to around my friends when I was younger. But he’s a really nice guy when you start talking to him. He always had a soft spot for me when me and my brother were kids.” Joyce almost looked pretendedly smug, recalling all the brownie points she held over her younger brother. “I’m sure that’ll rub off onto you too!”

“Do you think they’ll like me?” Her nerves were getting the best of her, and the thought of being rejected by Joyce’s parents admittedly scared her.

“Don’t worry yourself over silly questions,” Joyce consoled, already confident with her answer. “It’d be harder for them not to like you.”

“I’m just nervous...that’s all.”

“Emily, even if there was the one in a million, billion, trillion, quadrillion chance that they didn’t? So what? That doesn’t change what we have. What we do is our business, and they have no right to intervene. We’re adults, right? Well,” She happily looked over at Emily, who was in the middle of much more suggestive circumstances. “At least one of us is.”

“Hey...!” Emily whined, suddenly wanting herself out of the high chair much more now. To prove a point Joyce was pretending to deny. But deep down, Emily knew she had nothing to prove.

“I know, I know...I’m sorry...” Joyce’s apologies sounded genuine, which made forgiveness the only possible route for Emily.

“Do you like yours without the crust?”

It was a question Emily wasn’t expecting...but seeing as the way she was being treated, it wasn’t totally unexpected…

“...yes please.”

[Guilend]

That was great, sorry I ran out of reactions today. I will try and remember to come back and give ya one.

[the diaper mike]

my God awesome continuing, please

[Sarah Penguin]

whee

[Bluebird67]

Definitely awesome. And wonderfully well-paced.

Best of all, even if you had to stop at this point, it’s a satisfying story as it stands. I certainly hope you don’t though: there are so many great paths you could take it along from here.

[Jellyfisherman]

So fricking good can't wait for more

[Mee]

On 3/4/2019 at 9:22 PM, Guilend said:

That was great, sorry I ran out of reactions today. I will try and remember to come back and give ya one.

Haha, don't worry about it! It's always awesome to hear feedback and comments. The reactions are just a bonus, I guess? Regardless, thanks a ton for the kind words!

On 3/4/2019 at 11:52 PM, the diaper mike said:

my God awesome continuing, please

Thanks for commenting! I'll try and post the next chapter when I can!

On 3/5/2019 at 5:08 AM, Sarah Penguin said:

whee

I'm not sure I completely understand, but thanks! ?

On 3/5/2019 at 3:44 PM, Bluebird67 said:

Definitely awesome. And wonderfully well-paced.

Best of all, even if you had to stop at this point, it’s a satisfying story as it stands. I certainly hope you don’t though: there are so many great paths you could take it along from here.

Happy to hear the timing pays off! Even I feel like it can be slow at times, but me sitting on it for a while probably doesn't help much either. As for a conclusion here? Hmmm...

On 3/6/2019 at 7:28 PM, Jellyfisherman said:

So fricking good can't wait for more

Glad to hear it! I can't appreciate the comments enough! I hope you continue to enjoy what I put out!

[Bluebird67]

Well, I know I said that the story _could_ end at that point, but I really hope you haven’t stopped writing it! But if you have, please don’t leave us in suspense: tell us it’s done.

[babytom2]

6 hours ago, Bluebird67 said:

Well, I know I said that the story _could_ end at that point, but I really hope you haven’t stopped writing it! But if you have, please don’t leave us in suspense: tell us it’s done.

It's only been 2 weeks since the recent chapter.

[CDfm]

Well I really managed to get myself Way behind again. That made catching up extra special though. I absolutely loved this. You can feel the love between Emily and Joyce growing stronger and stronger as things progress. This last chapter alluded to the possibly that their love may turn into a more physical thing between tow women. I think that could really be special as well and further their love for each other. I am looking forward to the meeting of Joyce’s parents and seeing how that goes. I am a little apprehensive about the possibility of them showing the full relationship they have to her parents but I feel as though mom would be very accepting and even wanting to participate. I am unsure of how dad would handle that though. It was impossible to not give this a like. I am almost disappointed that I hadn’t fallen even further behind because I really want to read more. 

[Little_Mouse]

Love this story. Excited to read what happens when the parents arrive. How will Joyce and Emily interact and handle the visit.

[Mee]

16 - Messy Milestone

A small, crestfallen whimper escaped Emily when she could feel a hot spurt escape her bladder, and soak into the inviting, thirsty pad taped around her hips. Trying the best she could to relax her breathing, the pitter-patter expanded into a river, as she started to flood her diaper. She stared off into space as the tingly feeling trickled in her nether regions, acutely aware of the raging battle in her pants; the struggle of her pee trying to pool whilst the diaper absorbed it. Strangely enough, she imagined it like pouring a bucket of water in the sand. At first there would be a tiny pool, but the dry, dry sand would eventually drink it all away. And in its place would be a much heavier, squisher form.

Without even realizing it, the corner of a crustless sandwich nudged the edge of her mouth. She looked over to the culprit, and of course it was the only other person in the kitchen.

“There she is!” Joyce cooed like it was a game of peekaboo. “I was afraid my little Emmy was petrified!”

“S...sorry...I...I just…-”

“Didn’t you ask for half of my sandwich?” Obviously jumping over Emily’s words, Joyce interjected with a stern voice. “This little guy still has two more bites to it, and I expect them to be coming from you.”

Emily, blinded by her own embarrassment, didn’t notice Joyce’s tactness and tried to press again. 

“But I just...” The words kept failing her, and her verbal shortcomings frustrated her even more as she shifted in her seat and felt the diaper squish.

“There’s no need to talk about it, silly,” Joyce spoke soothingly; not to express her own annoyance; far from it. It was all to calm Emily’s nerves. “We’ll take care of it when we need to. What happens down there is my business when I decide it needs to be addressed.” It was never a tone to belittle Emily, but to help shift any responsibility she might unnecessarily feel was hers. It was Joyce’s job to shoulder all the negativity, and in return for Emily to be her cute little self.

“Besides, what kind of mommy would I be if I needed my baby girl to tell me whenever she needed to be changed?”

As her role was further defined, and responsibility for her bladder relieved, Emily blushed harder, muttering, “Then how will you know…?”

“Mommy’s intuition, naturally,” she spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, figuring the sixth sense was a given. Though, truthfully, it wasn’t like any of Emily’s diaper habits were discrete. Joyce hated to exploit them, but even if Emily didn’t tell her what was going on, the muffled gasp or minor whimper was often plenty enough to tell what was happening. Whenever Emily seemed visibly distraught out of nowhere, it was likely the state of her diaper that was contributing to it. And now that Emily wouldn’t be directly helping her out anymore, Joyce’s eyes briefly trailed to the crotch of Emily’s diaper. She’d have the liberty of conducting some real diaper checks, now.

“So now let’s review,” Joyce ruffled the top of Emily’s head. “Who’s in charge of your diapers?”

“...You are,” Emily meekly replied, her mouth contorting into an awkward, flustered smile.

“And when you use it, you…?”

“Do...do nothing?” Emily answered with a slight bit of uncertainty.

“Bzzz,” Joyce sounded her error and crossed her fingers into an ‘X.’ “Wrong, my baby girl. You’re supposed to keep having fun!” Emily technically was right, but Joyce considered it another chance to reinforce positive feelings. “The only thing you need to worry about it having fun, and enjoying Mommy’s snuggles and love!” she eagerly rubbed their noses together, and sparked embarrassed giggles from the girl.

“Oh, but, I guess you do have an important job...” Joyce spoke with a sudden look of realization, like she’d forgotten something important.

“What’s that?” Emily answered with mild, yet genuine curiosity. It was conflicting to seek that sort of stimulation; legitimate responsibility while still trying to act like a baby…

But, it was pretty obvious the two weren’t on the same wavelength when Joyce finally revealed, “Mommy needs affection, too, you know?” With an exaggerated expression, she looked to be someone in desperate need of love herself, and though she was joking, Emily still started to feel a new sense of frustration as she couldn’t free herself from the chair to hug Joyce. Annoyed, she swung her legs, trying to at least fire her love like projectiles to the matronly figure instead.

Joyce then closed the distance again, but while staring Emily in the eyes, grabbed her fidgety ankles until they stopped moving. “Eat your lunch, then we can talk about getting you out of there.” Not waiting for a response, Joyce picked up the crustless sandwich and slipped the better part of it into Emily’s mouth.

And as if she had to instruct the process every step of the way, Joyce continued to jokingly explain as she motioned, “And then we chew...” she lightly tickled the bottom of Emily’s chin, nearly causing the girl to choke in a giggle fit, clearly infectious as Joyce fought hard to look serious too.

“T, then swallow,” she muttered, as if trying to hide the laughter on her face. The rolling ball in Emily’s throat announced a successful, and blissful bite, and there was only one more to go. A small amount of fruit remained too; all of which was Emily’s portion, but Joyce was finally feeling merciful as she stole another cube for herself too.

With enough coaxing, Emily did finish her food, and the rest of her juice. Satisfied, Joyce unlocked the tray after cleaning her up. And right before Emily could scamper off, Joyce halted her with a quick, “Just a second, hon.” Walking over to her confused girl, considering she’d already wiped her face clean, Emily’s heart skipped an awkward beat as the crotch of her diaper, hidden by her onesie was suddenly pressed closer to her groin, namely because Joyce’s hand was in the middle of feeling it.

Emily had moved her mouth, but no words came.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, you know?” It wasn’t something Joyce wanted to see in particular, because truthfully Emily was even cuter when she wasn’t and just falling into the natural flow of things. And as she pulled her hand away from the warm diaper, her face was filled with tenderness and compassion, and the diaper slightly crinkled as the heavy bulk of it suddenly sunk back to the ground, though stopped partway by the onesie.

“Maybe in a little bit,” Joyce answered the silent question gleaming in Emily’s eyes, turning back to the sink while she wiped her hands with a dish towel. And given that she’d just been told not to, Emily didn’t make as much as a comment. Not spokenly, at least.

The final step to Joyce’s cleanup was refilling Emily’s bottle, and she walked back into the living room to find the girl lounging about the couch, seemingly with little regard for the diaper around her hips; happily displayed for whoever might sneak a glance.

“Okay, so what are you feeling up to now?” passively, she tickled the bottom of Emily’s exposed and lazy foot; a mistake Emily would regret right then as it shot away from Joyce’s reach. “We can go back to coloring, playing games, stuffies?”

None of it sounded too exciting to Emily right now. Stuffed animals called for more creativity than she had at the moment, and such a high level of coloring like she did before was too draining. Really. Being a toddler wasn’t easy.

Joyce could read what was going through Emily’s head as it translated to her face, so she asked, “Maybe some tv? A movie? We could always get bath time out of the way...” Her last suggestion lingered as if she were thinking about it right then. “But, I think it’d be better to do that after dinner.”

“Uhm...tv?” Emily asked for confirmation, but Joyce snickered when she slipped the bottle into her mouth, as if a sign that negotiations were finished.

“Tv it is.” Joyce walked by the couch where the playmat used to be, grabbing one of the few puzzles she left out. Scooting Emily closer to the edge of the couch, she assumed her position as the bigger spoon and held her charge close. “But we’re not gonna watch too much, got it? Too much tv is bad for you.”

Emily almost groaned, but the whole scenario was too wonderful to disobey over something so tiny and insignificant. Curiously, she also eyed the puzzle in Joyce’s hands, who looked to be fiddling with it herself. Joyce turned her eyes from the puzzle to the staring girl, smirking.

“Think you can be my special helper?”

Quietly, but with childish confidence, Emily nodded her head assuringly.

It was certainly a struggle not to smother Emily constantly. Her forming mannerisms and overall attitude as the Emmy Joyce loved equally as much as her more grown-up counterpart were slowly taking shape, and they were all such encouraging signs. It told her everything they had done, and likely were going to do would be magical, and nothing but sweet, pure ecstasy for both of them.

With one arm wrapped around Emily’s waist, Joyce used the other to keep herself propped up; giving herself the perfect view of the tv, and her little tinkerer trying to crack the code.

Unfortunately, it was feeling a whole lot like last time, and Emily could feel herself wanting to defer to Joyce’s aid already. It was a mess of metal rods with balls fused into them, looking so intricately assembled, yet upon closer inspection finding just how much of a mess the combination was. Simple and pretty from a distance, challenging and intimidating up close.

The longer she spent on it, the less calculated and logical her attempts became. Before she’d inspect how a part was threaded into the rest of the jumble, but now she was just giving everything random tugs in whichever direction possible. And she knew that as soon as she gave it to Joyce, she’d make it look so easy; do the things Emily could not so effortlessly. Her power was limitless, and Emily’s own paled in comparison. But with that in mind...it was all the more reason why she should be confiding in Joyce…

“Now come on,” Joyce coaxed in a lightly disapproving voice. “I know my little girl is smarter than that,” she leaned back up so she could fit one of Emily’s hands into each of hers.

“But I don’t know what to do!” Emily explained, slightly annoyed once more by being told she could do something she knew she couldn’t. Then again, wasn’t she able to meet Joyce’s expectations last time? Coloring suddenly felt like eons ago. That’s what a nap and lunch could do to a person…

“Okay, come on,” Joyce gave her a quick kiss on the head. “No more pouting. Now with all these puzzles, there’s a pattern,” she started to pull her hands apart, and by extension, so did Emily’s which were holding a part. Of course nothing budged.

“See? I told you-” Emily started to ramble, but was politely silenced, though she didn’t expect to be muffled by her pacifier. The banana taste was nice, but she was a little ashamed to admit that she had forgotten where it went… Another factor she needn’t consider…

“And I told you,” Joyce chuckled, “give me a minute, okay? I’ll admit, sometimes for these puzzles I try randomly too. But, it works the same way as the last one, remember?”

Trying to recall their first time doing this, Emily envisioned herself sitting between Joyce’s legs, tinkering with an older logic puzzle, and then of course deferring to Joyce for help. But how did she do it? Why did it matter? They were both totally two different puzzles. Maybe even different manufacturers.

Taking Emily’s silence behind the pacifier as an answer, Joyce continued her explanation.

“You’re half right. Yes, you pull, but what you really need to do is,” letting her hands do the talking, they pulled again, only with a bit more rotation this time. Twisting. Pull and twist. “Pull and twist.” Suddenly, there was much more give to one of the complex metal pieces. It didn’t come out, but it certainly felt like a significant step was taken, and Emily felt like a fool for not realizing the trick any sooner. These puzzles made her feel dumb, and she suddenly didn’t like looking bad in front of Joyce.

Seeing this entire venture as a whole new avenue to express her stupidity, Emily dropped the puzzle to the floor and nuzzled back into Joyce.

Slightly frowning, Joyce called Emily’s attention when the pacifier was slipped from her mouth and she no longer had an excuse to not use her words. “Why did you stop?” She didn’t sound angry, or expectant for Emily to continue, just concerned about the reason.

“B...because it stopped being fun...” Emily answered in a way that made her to be a terrible liar, because even she knew that those words were hard to believe.

“And why did it stop being fun?” she rubbed Emily’s shoulder, who seemed to be choking on yet another bitter pill.

Although meekly, it was almost strange how easily Emily could let the truth flow out of her. When answering to Joyce, at least. She truly was her rock. Nothing slipped past her, and she made everything better. “Stuff like that makes me feel dumb...and, and I don’t wanna look dumb to you...”

“Honey,” Joyce spoke in a neutral voice; caught between mommy-mode and Joyce the tender lover. “Do you really think I’d judge you over a single puzzle?” The silence lingered for a moment. “Do you?”

“N...no...” The answer was obvious, but irrational thought still reigned supreme. “I just don’t want to feel inferior.”

It was a difficult, and complex desire. She couldn’t exactly be Joyce’s peer when she was having her diapers checked and drinking from a bottle. Not that Joyce minded, and hopefully Emily too. This was a specific kind of inferiority Emily was feeling, and it was in the intellectual sphere.

“You’re not inferior,” Joyce stressed. “If anything, you’re the one with all the power!”

The claim bewildered Emily, and truly did confuse her. Where were they right now? Doing what? Everything within sight was all on Joyce’s dime! The only thing Emily could call her own was the few cubic inches inside of her head, and even then she was practically leasing it out to Joyce at this point…

“Remember what I said? Your happiness is my happiness. When you’re sad, I’m sad. And when you feel troubled,” as if to match the mood of the word, Joyce said somberly, “then so do I.”

“But...” desperate to find a counterexample, Emily it was conflicting to find her well of thoughts turning up dry.

“But what? When we have adult conversations, you’re more than mature, respectful, kind, funny, and loving. What about that is inferior?” The question she ended it on was partly genuine. “And when you’re able to become a sweet, baby girl like this for me? That’s nothing but to show how strong you are.”

“S...strong?” What an oxymoron it was.

“Yes,” Joyce confirmed, “strong. Being able to recline yourself into such a wonderful mindset and enjoy such...different things from the norm. And to do it all for me? I’m the one who’s grateful to you, Emily. You’re willing to show me the most vulnerable parts about yourself, and I’m willing to do the same for you. So when we expose ourselves like this, how does that make either one of us inferior? Does it make me lesser to be your mommy instead of your girlfriend?”

“No...” Her logic never seemed to fail, and the coming conclusion did make sense. It nearly put a smile on Emily’s face. Joyce always knew how to make things better.

“So then why would it be any different for you to be my baby? It’s a sign of mutual trust, Emily. We love each other enough to drop our guard; be ourselves. Why should we feel worse because of it?”

“Because...” then she realized, she had nothing meaningful to say. Nothing that’d be sunk in mere moments by Joyce and her limitless arsenal. “I’m sorry...”

“For what?” Joyce lightly rubbed her back. “It’s important to talk about these things, because now we can make them better. Whenever you want to talk or share what’s on your mind, I’ll always be here, okay?”

With a small noise of satisfaction, Emily nodded her head.

“Good. Now,” Joyce leaned over, picking up the puzzle Emily once discarded. “Let’s do this one together. Mommy doesn’t remember the instructions on this one too clearly, so I think we’ll both be struggling...” To her pleasure, it earned a giggle from Emily.

For the next two hours it’d be the noises of a tv in the background, small talk, and small clinks and clacks of metal.

“Hey Joyce, how big is your office at work?”

“Hmm… Well, I suppose it’s somewhat like the office we have here, but maybe a little bit bigger. Why?”

“I dunno...” Emily’s voice trailed as she worked on the puzzle. It was just simple and baseless curiosity. Joyce was left with lingering ideas though.

It made her giddy to think about bringing Emily into work; being able to show her off to everyone. Under what lens though? Obviously as her partner, but…she’d be lying if she said she didn’t wish she could show off her adorable side, too. The company did have a bring your daughter to work day. Maybe then it’d be a good excuse to show her around? Then she chuckled, imagining the confusion they’d cause. Everyone would think that she was bending the rules, and they would be correct, but wrong at the same time.

“Speaking of work,” Joyce added, “have you heard from yours at all?”

“Sort of...” Emily glumly replied. “They said we’d be receiving some news either tomorrow or Sunday. I don’t know what to expect...” Sure, the unofficial vacation was nice, but being out of work for so long, longer than even last time wasn’t sitting well with her.

“It’ll be fine. Everything will work out in the end.” Joyce continued to soothe her, though, tried to keep her personal opinions on the reserved side. She already had certain ideas about what “temporarily” closing an entire department might entail. For Emily’s sake, though, she would stay optimistic. And she meant it when she said that everything would work out, one way or another.

Emily stayed quiet, watching the tv for a few moments, then visible shock crept on her face when she felt it. A pressure. A force. A small movement, or rather, a push. It was coming from the last place she wanted it to. The one forbidden spot; even worse than the bladder. Her bowels.

She was just about to excuse herself, but then she realized where she was, what she was wearing, and who she was with. It was a helpless cause, yet the thought of what Joyce would inevitably force on her scared her to no end.

Joyce could already pick up on her slight and awkward shuffles, though, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Emily’s mind raced a mile a minute, thinking how she could answer such a dangerous question. It potentially defined life or death. Her mind must have been solving quadratic equations in rapid succession, whilst deciphering the ancient texts known as Joyce’s personality while she computed a suitable answer; mentally reviewing all their past exchanges to have her personality figured out down to a ‘T.’ She had probably skipped over discovering the meaning of life itself just to find what words might keep Joyce at bay. And then it came to her. A godsend, words of wisdom, and divine will comprised into the vocal form. Intellectually enriched, and enlightened, she had discovered her profound words which Joyce could not bear to disobey, defy, or question.

“Uh...uhm...nothing.” After the slight crinkle and squish from standing up, she excused herself. “I...I need to check on something.”

Truly profound words.

“Emmy...?” Joyce leaned over in her spot, watching the girl disappear into the hallway. She was more perplexed than anything else for the first few seconds, seeing how unusual this was, but a sneaking suspicion was growing on her. She stood up and followed.

Meanwhile, Emily clasped her hands on the knob of the bathroom door, and as she twisted, the knob did not. Stunned, and trying to save herself from a breakdown, she helplessly turned the metal knob over and over, hoping that the locking mechanism would show mercy and let her through. Panicked whimpers escaped her as the sense of worry and distress only seemed to make the pressure on her bottom feel worse.

The worst part was she already expected this. She knew Joyce like always had taken the necessary precautions, and this time would be no different than the last. Well, it would, though the only thing different would be what she was doing in her diaper. It was the worst imaginable scenario possible.

A hand reached from behind Emily and it sought out her own. Knowing full well who it belonged to, Emily became sorrowfully limp as it handled her.

“Please...”

All she got as a response was a hug.

“I’m sorry, honey, but not this time.”

“But…!” Emily spoke with desperation; stuck in a frenzy with what time she had left. There was nothing she felt capable of doing other than skipping straight to the inevitable. Why torture yourself and watch the water rise than just drown yourself from the start? Tension certainly wasn’t good for the muscles, because she was feeling the strain grow on her by the second. It could have very likely all been in her head, but that didn’t discount from how real it felt right now. The need to go. Maybe it was but a second later and Emily was back to tasting synthetic fruit. It didn’t exactly clear the clouds and chase the storm away, but it at least gave Emily a roof to put her head under.

There wasn’t much Joyce could do other than employ all the comfort techniques she knew for Emily. This wasn’t going to be easy, and she knew that, but she could at least try and soften the blow.

Emily slowly sunk to the floor, still supported by Joyce’s arms whilst she tried her best to come to terms with an absolute fate.

“I know, I know...” Joyce cooed, even if she really didn’t, but she took a fair guess that Emily was too distraught to really call her out on that.

“The first time is always hard, but I know you’ve made it through to the other side each and every time. This is no different.” While she spoke, Joyce had turned Emily to face her. Emily had moved to take the pacifier out of her mouth, but she was stopped. “Hang on, I want you to be nice and comfy, okay?”

Genuinely frustrated, Emily looked at the ground with a sense of bitterness. This was the last thing she wanted! It was her birthday! So why did this need to happen?

It all came as a package. There wouldn’t be any cuddling and kisses without the messy parts too… She hated how literal the saying started to seem now…

Keeping in mind what Joyce said, she did try her best to stay comfortable. She was being comforted by someone she deeply cherished, was dressed in a soft fabric, and...and was tasting the pleasant flavor of banana…

“You know, it helps to have a friend, too?” Suggestively, Joyce added while behind her back she produced a familiar face.

“Pihp?” behind the pacifier, Emily questioned. The ovular mochi shape was unmistakable, as generic and nondescript as it was. Granted, that was exactly what made him so unique. His synthetic smile stared back at Emily, and although reluctant, she was suddenly warming up to Joyce’s comfort strategy. Trying not to wince as her diaper squished, she leaned forward to take Pip from Joyce’s hands. Suddenly holding him tight, all she could do was look at Joyce, standing over her with rays of affection.

Joyce rested her cheek on her hand, trying her best not to fawn too much over the sight. There she was, her little girl sitting on her knees, sucking on her pacifier, dressed in a onesie and holding her new, fluffy friend. It pained her to know that this was all for something even more significant though. She looked all buckled up for something that would certainly be more intense…

“N...Now whaht?”

The worst was that there wasn’t any magic Joyce could use to make what was to come any less worse. The sweet, relatively unperturbed innocence on her face wouldn’t last forever, and Joyce was the reason because of it. It was in times like these when it felt like she was kicking a puppy. The way Emily stared at her, it was complete, genuine trust, and Joyce was about to drag her through the mud. Like she told Emily: the first was always the worst.

“...Now you do what you need to do.”

It went easy through the ears, but not down the throat. Again, a window of freedom. She had complete control over her fate, and the only way she was going to pass her bowels was if she did it of her own accord. There was something oddly reassuring about something bad being done to yourself by someone else’s hand. At least then you had an excuse to claim no wrongdoing. You played nothing more than an involuntary role in the deed. But this was different. This was all done by Emily. It rocked her core to an uncomfortable point knowing she’d have no one to blame but herself.

How was she even supposed to start? In a strange, strange, very strange way, it almost felt like she was coloring again… No matter what comparison she tried to make, it was as confusing as it was jarring. It was like peeing...but out the back? It was like she was on death’s door; pushed to a brink where she suddenly had a sixth sense. She could feel it inside of her; this mass, waste, demanding to be released. Waiting to be caught and contained by her diaper… She hugged Pip tighter, and her breaths started to pick up the pace.

The gravity was setting in fast, and tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“P-please, d-dohn’t mahk me!” Her pleas muffled and slightly slurred around the teat.

“I need you to trust me, sweetie, okay?” Looking emotionally pained herself, Joyce leaned close next to her.

Emily continued to quiver, and suddenly shake as the answer she was desperately searching for wasn’t anywhere to be found. “B-b-but, but...”

“Once you’re done, we’ll get you changed right away, okay? Like it never happened,” she ended it on a content beat, and smiled a smile with the utmost confidence.

Emily could already think of a few ways to continue the verbal gymnastics, but they knew who would win in the end. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. Nothing other than push.

How she could even push herself this far was one of science’s greatest mysteries, or at least one of her own greatest conundrums. Joyce was the much better one at reading these things, but she’d certainly come far…

It felt wrong.

It felt like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Something irreversible. Like she was ripping a steel beam right out of a skyscraper. Everything about this had no objective logic. She was tearing herself down for the sake of someone else. Yet even with that in mind she still wanted to follow through? It pushed against her backside like a rude and intrusive guest. The shift in gear was obviously far too much for her body, seeing as her bowels were having just as tough of a time as she was accepting what was going to happen.

She grunted, and her face felt hot. From Joyce’s perspective it was red. Not the embarrassed kind of red, though. Clearly she was physically strained. She stood slightly off her knees, whether it was out of necessity or to prevent squishing from the aftermath…

She couldn’t do it. She tried and tried, but her body seemed dead-set on refusing her selfish desires. And that made her feel horribly conflicted. Feeling a bountiful joy that both she and her body were like-minded in their adultness, but also downright terrible for not being able to meet Joyce’s expectations. The idea of disappointment was enough to suddenly pop a screw, because she nearly gasped when she could feel just the smallest bit slip between the barrier defining what was inside her body, and what was the outside world.

No! No, no, no, no, no, no! There wasn’t a porcelain toilet waiting to receive her mess, and that’s what scared her the most. It was inconceivable to think it was going anywhere else, in her pants no less.

To her own dismay, she didn’t stop, but she stared either intently at Joyce for some form of support, or off into endless space. She probably was shredding through the pacifier with how hard she was biting into it, and Pip must have been two pieces by now with how hard she hugged him. Her cheeks were wet, and they were only becoming more damp by the second. It was all a jumbled mess of confusion as she kept pushing on her bowels, and more and more the mess was starting to poke through. She had already crossed the threshold. There was no turning back now. It was all or nothing.

And suddenly, the raging fire within her was rained upon by a heavy, yet wonderful shower. It tickled her ears in the most euphoric way possible. Arms wrapped around her shoulders, and she was pressed into the soft, familiar bosom of her dearest. The hums sang like the melodies of a goddess through her ears, and the sweet, gentle smells reminded her of peace and serenity. It was so sudden and so powerful, she forgot what had her so strained for just a moment. To forget how her bottom shook, fighting to release something so vile and disturbing. Something that tarnished and corrupted her mentality as an adult and grown woman.

The best way to explain the feeling is like pushing a big boulder up and down a hill. On the way up, the process is tiring, straining, exhausting, and taxing. It takes everything you have to just set the ball into motion, but once you reach the top, all control leaves you. Gravity takes care of the rest and it slips from your grasp, whether you like it or not. It picks up in speed, and the momentum accelerates to a frightening pace. So fast that it’s over before you can even realize it.

A long, uninterrupted gasp mixed into a sigh left Emily’s chest once it hit her. Rather, once it left her. She had stretched her sphincter to such a point that her body squeezed the rest out unaided. The poo left her so fast she nearly had a double-take. Even if she wasn’t proud, the relief she felt from finishing the grueling task was wonderful. Her diaper though felt dreadfully heavy, and her bum felt hot, like there was something close to it radiating heat. Probably because there was… What bothered her in a still shock-induced state however was the size of it all. Of course she couldn’t tell how big it really was, but it was enough to just creep between her legs, feeling the muck shift around inside of her.

In unintelligible murmurs she trembled all over, as the smell reaching her nose suddenly reminded her why she should feel so mortified right now. She’d finally done it. The one last thing she never thought she’d ever do, and she’d done it. She truly was a baby. If anyone thought otherwise, they need only refer to the current state of her diaper. It made her feel awful, clearly outshining the tiniest bit of pleasure from satisfying Joyce. Speaking of which, what was she--

Emily’s head slightly reeled back once Joyce’s lips with such force pressed against hers. It was so powerful that Emily’s weakened thighs finally gave up, and her lower half collapsed. This was the last thing she wanted to happen, because she was forcibly sat on the ground. Her eyes widened once her bottom hit the ground--correction, her messy diaper. It squished and squelched, and Emily was there every step of the way to feel it all creep and smoosh. The kiss was wonderful, but the consequences not so much. Joyce looked a tad bit shocked too, but she was still clearly riddled with enthusiasm and pride. Once again, she derived so much joy and pleasure from Emily’s infantileness, but the girl was beyond overwhelmed.

She didn’t know how to fully react, other than regard herself with complete and utter disgust. But once she found the words, she was suddenly a quivering mess, both literally and metaphorically. Her mind started to waver heavily, and her body all over felt extremely drained. Part of her could almost slump over on the floor and fall asleep right then. She wanted nothing more than to lean into a nice, big, soft cloud. And yet the sensation of a wet and messy diaper was too much to handle. Her lack of total expression was probably to express just how broken she was right now. She felt disconnected in some way. She was present, sentient, and capable of comprehending things, yet she wasn’t capable of any more than that.

“Ch-change?” With only one word in mind, Emily look desperately at Joyce.

“O-of course!” Hurriedly, Joyce stood Emily up and took extreme caution to help the wobbly girl back to the nursery. Each step was shaky, and she could feel the mess hang in her diaper heavily. Each step seemed to have charged some consciousness back into her, because she grew more upset with each and every footfall. By the time she was walking on the carpet, she was using Joyce for more than just physical support.

The whole way, Joyce was sure not to skip out on the positive reinforcement, because lord if she needed it more than ever now.

Before she even set Emily on the table, she undid the snaps to her crotch, and the diaper now unrestrained slumped a little bit lower. Emily could only whimper as it happened, and her nostrils contorted and squinched from the unbearable odor. Joyce was probably bothered by it too, but she gave no indication whatsoever.

“I want you to know how proud I am of you,” Joyce stole another kiss from her, then pulled her in for one more hug.

“W-w-wait,” tearily, in a thick voice Emily tried to stop her. She didn’t want to be smothered when she felt like this. She’d only feel worse. Joyce ignored her pleas though.

“No, I don’t want to hear a word of it,” Joyce spoke firmly, yet looked just as supportive. “Emmy, I’ll love you no matter what. Whether you’re messy, wet, clean, sad, angry, embarrassed, or happy, that’s not going to change how I feel. You can tell me whatever you want, but that’s still not going to stop me from cheering you up.”

Emily’s vision grew blurry as she was helped onto the table. She nearly gagged when the mess was spread once more upon sitting down.

“Besides, you did the hardest part!” Joyce spoke with an upbeat, encouraging tone. “If you need to cry, I want you to do what feels right. Whatever makes you feel better. But just keep in mind two things. One: it only gets easier. It won’t be as hard as it was this time,” and maybe she could passively work on making it easier, too. Anything to ease the stress on Emily’s part. “And I will never, ever, ever, ever judge you for what happens. You might think that this is your fault, but I promise it isn’t,” she spoke as if it hurt her to think Emily felt that way, which she did. “It’s what’s natural. I wouldn’t expect anything else, okay? It may sound strange right now, but I want you to find comfort with all of this. I want to grow closer to you Emily, as your partner and your mommy.”

Emily tried her best to smile and nod, but it was difficult when she was sitting in her own mess. The request was certainly strange indeed, but the idea of growing closer was almost always an immediate yes. Still, she wasn’t sure how she could get used to messing herself… That seemed like a definite no. Something impossible. And yet, Joyce always seemed to prove the exact opposite…

She could only let out a sigh, the first unashamed one all day, namely because it had nothing to do with expelling something from her body. Instead, it was Joyce undoing the tapes and pulling back the front of her diaper; allowing the cool air to touch her skin. It felt like centuries had gone by before she could feel the rest of the surrounding atmosphere once again. Even with the strap over her, she could lean forward the slightest bit to see what was going on, and unfortunately she caught a glimpse, and a whiff. If she thought it was bad when it was contained, it was pure liquidated hell now. She couldn’t understand how toilet water masked a smell so well compared to poop being just on its own, but the odor was downright unbearable. What had her nearly faint was seeing just the smallest amount of brown tinge in the diaper snaked between her legs.

She did that. It was her mess she made. A grown woman. Messing herself when she was perfectly capable of using the toilet. Before she could look any longer though, Joyce pushed her gently back down.

“I don’t want you looking down there one bit, missy,” Joyce tutted disapprovingly. “Only Mommy gets to work down there, got it?”

Her dominant assertion over Emily’s private parts actually made her giggle, surprisingly, considering how much turmoil she’d just been put through. She knew it was probably to protect her own sanity, and she was willing to go along with it.

“Just lean back on your comfy cushion, okay?” Joyce brushed a lock of Emily’s hair. “Look at Mommy instead of the silly old diapie.” She shined her pearly whites with a gleeful smile. “Don’t I look pretty? Huh?” Before Emily could clearly react, a rush of tickles attacked her left foot.

Squeals escaped her as she tried to wiggle, but it only made the mess she was sitting in worse. Thankfully Joyce realized that too, and the tickles stopped much faster than they usually would.

“Ready to be clean?”

Meekly, Emily nodded her head.

During the change, Joyce’s nose had an involuntary twitch here and there, because truthfully the smell wasn’t so pleasant to her either. But it was all part of the package. She wanted Emily at her best times, as well as her worst. She’d be there every step of the way to make it all pleasant, and if not that, then bearable. Besides, someone had to keep her baby pretty.

Wipes were applied liberally and even when Joyce was sure not a speck was left on her bottom, she ran through the motions once more.

“A..Are you sure it’s clean?” Emily asked nervously. She’d hate to be trapped in a new diaper just to get it dirty again… She felt clean, but it’s not like she could say for certain. Then she suddenly yelped when the cold hand using the wipes took a playful squeeze as her bare bottom.

“Clean as a whistle, and cute as a button!” Joyce snickered. “Anyways, I’ve been keeping that tush waiting long enough. Let’s get you into something clean.” A new, clean diaper was suddenly produced, and Emily was actually thankful to smell the powder rather than her own poop once again. She could for the moment regard her diaper simply as cushy and soft underwear. Nothing else. The strap to the table was undone and she’d been set back on the ground.

“Alrighty, free to go!” Joyce clapped her hands together, as if she were to send the horses off to the races.

“H...huh?” Awkwardly, Emily’s eyes gestured to her near-naked self. All she was wearing was a diaper, and Joyce planned to send her off?

Joyce either didn’t see what she was getting at, or tactfully played dumb.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can’t I wear something? Maybe the onesie again?” She started to grow sheepish, asking for such childish clothing.

“I think I want you to get used to just your diaper,” Joyce spoke simply, not so much as disturbing Emily, but throwing her into a senseless stupor.

“What do you mean? I don’t wanna be naked!”

“Remember you said you wanted me to have more control? I think this is what’s best for you right now,” she gave a reassuring kiss. “Besides, dinner might be messy, and I think you look cute right now?” Her casual tone made Emily’s heart skip a beat. Not only had she exercised the absolute rule Emily extended to her, but she so nonchalantly put Emily in her place. Put Emmy in her place.

Unwilling to protest any further, looking intently at the ground, finding the puffed crotch of her diaper impossible to notice, she nodded her head.

“Attagirl.” Emily with red cheeks looked back to Joyce, and suddenly felt caught off guard. It was the same look as before. Joyce’s eyes had narrowed, and her eyelids had lowered, as if she were trying to focus her view on her prey alone. She took a seductive approach; the steps of a creeping cougar rather than an affectionate mommy. Emily nearly gulped, and she was strangely excitedly ready for an intense and passionate kiss. Then what shattered such an intimate moment was when her diaper crinkled heavily, as Joyce gave it a fun squeeze. Looking back to her, the fire in her eyes had died, and Emily felt off-puttingly cheated, as well as embarrassed.

Emily puffed her cheeks annoyingly, and Joyce merely giggled and spun her out the room.

“Mommy’s a meanie, huh?” Her teasing even earned a smirk from Emily. “First she won’t let Emmy wear her clothes, and now she won’t give her kisses.” A finger tracing her spine then sent shivers down Emily’s naked back all over as the nail just touched the surface.

“You go have some free time, okay? I’ll only be a little bit. I need to make sure there’s a ride for mom and dad tomorrow.”

Walking down the hall, Emily yet again felt another need to cover up her chest, but the notion felt so useless around Joyce. She’d seen her naked time and time again. The efforts at this point seemed wasted. There wasn’t anything left to protect, and maybe it made Joyce happy seeing her like this… Emily was trying to find a way to enjoy this all, and in many degrees she really was, but she also wanted to please Joyce too.

Alone in her office, Joyce picked up the phone, already dialing the number in mind. Again, she hated bothering staff near or during the weekend, but it was an unfortunate necessity. She sighed not out of annoyance of others, but precisely because of herself. To anyone other than Emily and family, it was just business, but she respected timely boundaries as well. Work should overflow as little as possible. Being a CEO may cause those rules to bend a little, but she made up for it in the countless other benefits along with it.

The phone beeped silently for a few moments.

“Charles? I’m fine, and you? That’s good to hear,” during the brief paused, she slightly pivoted in her chair, moving the mouse to her business computer, bringing the tower to life.

“I’m sorry for calling you at a time like this, but would you be available tomorrow for a few hours?” Of course he’d say yes, but honestly Joyce wish he’d refuse. Charles was one of few workers she held with high regard. Probably because he worked so closely with her. She didn’t like to impose.

“You will? Perfect. I’m sorry about taking up your time like this, you’ll be compensated, of course.” A sudden smile crept on her face. Not from Charles’ compliance, but something else. Something far more adorable. From the angle the camera was facing, her monitor gave her a live feed of the next room over. Propped on the couch, A practically naked Emily occupied herself with the ongoing tv. The light from the monitor slightly brightened Joyce’s own face, and her joyful expression.

What really tied it all together though was her posture. Laying across the cushions, she laid her bare chest on top of her stuffed toy, Pip, and looked mildly content with what she was doing. It was everything Joyce wanted, and hoped it would someday be so for Emily too.

There would be such a wonderful mix of both adult and infantile moments. It wasn’t even Joyce’s birthday, but it might as well have been. She felt so selfish, deriving pleasure from Emily’s big day. The only thing that kept her happy was knowing that it was mutual. And besides, she knew Emily would never let her feel sad.

If only it could go on like this for longer… Her brief moment of thought was chased by the reminder of why she was calling. Why this moment couldn’t carry on into tomorrow.

“Thank you again, Charles. I’ll send you the details soon. It’s an airport pickup for my parents. Have a good night. Bye.” The phone beeped, and Joyce set it back into the receiver. She had to call her mom one last time to verify the details, but other than that her business would be finished. She happily watched Emily for a few moments longer, only able to pry herself from it by reasoning that the faster she worked, the sooner she could stop being a spectator and become a participant. She was already wanting to cuddle with her little Emmy again!

The emotional frustration though only made her heart flutter even more. Quickly, she dialed the last few digits.

.
..
…
“Mom? Is that you? Hi, so I just wanted to...”

 

---

The story's not dead! Promise. Will respond to comments soon. Sorry about the lateness! Please, as well, let me know your thoughts. I read all the comments, and appreciate them to no end! And again, just give me a little bit, and I'll give you all proper responses. Really, I can't thank you enough for the support and concern over the story's continuation. But just to be clear, it IS going to keep going. (I promise, not an April Fool's joke)

[foofybabykitten]

Yay for the update! I believed in the continuation and checked everyday! I think it's needless to say but, I can't wait for more Emily & Joyce; I'm incredibly curious as to how the parent's visit is going to go so I'll continue to stalk this thread until the next chapter, don't keep poor little ol' me waiting too long, I might explode with anticipation. ?

[Sarah Penguin]

[Little_Mouse]

Good stuff are worth waiting for ??

[Cya]

Beautiful bonding, well written and a solid update. Totally worth the wait!

[YourFNF]

I ran out of likes but just....

 

@Mee