The Baby Bet - Epilogue (Audiobook Kickstarter is live!)

[Bonsai]

Seems like both the betters don’t really find inconvenient to keep playing. Too bad for the others in the apartment that a time limit wasn’t defined for the bet duration.

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 10: A Rude Awakening

 

Grace woke up early.

While she’d never call herself an early bird, she reacted well to getting a full night’s sleep. Having dozed off at just past nine forty five, that gave her well over ten hours of sleep by the time she arose, stretching out her arms and bumping knuckles against the bars of her ‘crib’.

Right.

Reaching over, she checked her phone. It was eight twenty. If Pearce kept up his end of the rules, he’d have to come get her in the next ten minutes.

Dubious, Grace scrolled social media, trying to avoid the pressure in her bladder. She knew she’d have to use her diaper eventually, but she held it for two reasons–one, if she wet herself before Pearce came to get her, he’d inevitably tease her and call her a bedwetter. Better to show that she could still hold it, and give him less ammunition. Two, she suspected that once he failed to wake her up on time, he’d call it quits rather than cough up fifty bucks for the beer pool.

Minutes ticked past. Eight Twenty Five. Eight Twenty Eight.

At Eight Twenty Nine, she heard a stumbling crash from the room next to hers. Heavy footsteps fell, and Pearce waltzed in, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He had on only a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, which hung loosely around his waist.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” Grace asked, rolling her eyes.

“I’m within the rules,” he grumbled, still too drowsy to quip beyond that. Walking over, he lowered the bars of her cage and bent down, giving the front of her diaper a squeeze. “Still dry? Cool. I’m goin’ back to bed.”

Grace pulled her lips into a line. “What about breakfast? Heck, what about clothing, I’m not going to wear PJs all day.”

Pearce raised two fingers with his left hand and put his right hand over his heart, in a mock salute. “I, your caretaker, do declare PJs to be appropriate morning wear. And I’ll make breakfast in like an hour or two. You’ll still get your three meals.”

Turning, he scratched the back of his head and wandered to his own bedroom.

Grace knew Pearce, knew that he wouldn’t be waking up until she came to wake him up–or until the afternoon rolled around. That gave her an opportunity, then, to get him in trouble while playing perfectly within the confines of the rules.

He’d be totally out of it for at least an hour. Probably much longer. So all she had to do was crap in her diaper, and he’d get a guaranteed penalty.

Smirking ruefully, Grace settled on her plan. All she had to do…was use her diaper.

“Hmm,” she said. Wetting it the first time had taken a bit of effort. Overcoming the mental block to do the other thing, well…

She shut her door. The last thing she wanted was one of the wasters walking by and catching her ‘in the act’. That done, she squatted down, closing her eyes, pretending she was sitting on a toilet.

Her bladder released, flooding her diaper quickly and thoroughly, but that was all. She couldn’t compel her body to obey, too much mental resistance in place that repelled the commands to fill up her diaper.

Standing, she blushed, though nobody had watched her attempt. Settling on another idea, she waddled out of her bedroom and across the hall, to the unoccupied bathroom. Closing that door, she walked over and sat down on the toilet, in an attempt to trick her brain into forgetting the layers of PJs and padding she’d been dressed in.

No dice. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Grace gave up on that idea after about a minute, and crossed to the bathroom cabinet, checking the various pill bottles and prescriptions they had lying around. She located a bottle of laxatives, and almost popped one, but thought better of it and read the label.

(Okay, glad I checked.) The pills said they took four to six hours to kick in, which wouldn’t help her plan in the slightest.

Groaning, Grace gave up on the attempt and left the bathroom. Working within the strict confines of the rules wouldn’t get her anywhere, so she instead needed to appeal to authority.

She found Brains in the kitchen, opening a box of ‘Frooty Crumbles’ cereal from the bottom. “Hey, Brains.”

“Grace,” he replied. “Morning. Where’s Pearce?”

“He went back to bed,” Grace pulled up a stool, sitting down at the kitchen island.

“Huh,” Brains said. Slicing through the cereal bag with a pair of scissors, he fished inside and took out a plastic toy of a videogame character.

“I wanted to get your opinion on that, actually,” Grace continued. “The rules have a hole, they don’t say when he’s got to feed me. I’m hungry, but knowing Pearce he’s not going to be awake for a couple decades.”

Brains paused, using a piece of sticky tape to seal up the bag. “Hmm.”

“You agree it’s a problem, right?”

“Yeah,” Brain conceded, sliding the cereal back into the box. He closed the bottom, used another piece of tape to seal it, and flipped it back upright. “But it’s not against the rules as written, so we can’t penalize him until we change that.”

Grace frowned. “The rules were supposed to make sure we played fair, they aren’t the point. Pearce said he was a good caretaker, and this pretty much proves he isn’t.”

“We can ask Melody, she’s better at this sort of… peopling stuff.” Brains walked over to the cupboard, sliding the fruity cereal back into its place and taking another box of choco-puffs. With that cereal in hand, he poured himself a bowl, moving to the fridge to grab some milk.

“What are you doing?” Grace asked, appalled.

“Oh, Skip picked up groceries to share, but they always time it to get the toy first–”

“Not that,” Grace corrected. “Since when do you put the cereal in the bowl before the milk? It’s going to get all soggy. Everyone knows you do milk first.”

Brains reeled in revulsion. “What? No, then you just get sad dry cereal and bland milk. This way the milk gets all chocolatey.”

Before Grace could explain just how horrendously bad his cereal-preparation method was, Melody waltzed in, yawning her way to the coffee maker. “Morning, Grace. You’re still at it?”

“Yeah,” Grace said. “And we need your opinion.”

“Sure, just let me wake up a bit first,” Melody said, moving to start the coffee maker percolating. “Why does it smell like…pee. Right.”

Grace blushed. “So, it’s like this.” She explained the Pearce situation again, summarizing just like she had to Brains. “He’s violating the spirit of the bet, but it’s not technically against the rules.”

“You want to talk spirit?” Melody asked. “You’re playing the baby, right?”

“Right,” Grace confirmed.

“So, how many babies give their sitters step-by-step instructions on how to make dinner and do all their stuff? You’re practically coaching him,” Melody said.

Grace furrowed her brow. “Well, yeah. He was going to make crap for dinner and I don’t want–”

“I’m not saying don’t object,” Melody said. “I’m saying, make him hold up his end of the work. Don’t come whining to us because he’s not acting like a babysitter–act like a baby.”

Staring, Grace took that in. “So…”

“So don’t tell him how to make dinner, wait until he fucks it up and then make him redo it,” Melody suggested. “Or, hell, do whatever you want. It’s not my problem.”

Grace had the idea, and got to her feet. Melody was right, there was no need for arbitration and more rules–she just had to fight for the results she wanted.

Walking back to the stairs, she went up to Pearce’s bedroom door, rapped sharply, and called, “Hey.”

A groan. “What?”

“I’m hungry. Get up.”

“I’ll make breakfast later,” Pearce replied.

(Yeah, this works.) Grace rapped on the door again. “I’m hungry.”

“So I’ll–”

“I’m hungry!”

Finally, he got up, staggering over to the door. Opening it, he looked her in the eyes. “What’s your problem?”

“I’m–”

“Yeah, yeah. You aren’t going to give up, are you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Nope.”

“Fine. I’ll go make you breakfast.”

“And something to drink,” Grace said.

He wiped his eyes. “Okay. Coffee? I’m going to need coffee.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Grace beamed. “Thanks.”

She followed him down the stairs, smirking triumphantly all the while. It didn’t matter to her that her victory came by way of nagging, only that she’d pushed Pearce one step closer to quitting.

Pulling up a seat at the table, Grace sat back and waited while Brains munched on cereal and Melody waited on a toaster pastry. Pearce checked the coffee maker, but Melody’s only made enough for herself, so he started another brew, adding two extra scoops of grounds to make it extra strong.

While he got the milk out of the fridge, the back door opened, and Skip walked inside. “Hey–oh, wow.”

“Wow?” Grace asked.

“Just can’t remember the last time we were all up in the morning like this,” Skip said. “It’s like old times. A Wasters classic.”

“‘Cept we aren’t being carpooled to detention in half an hour,” Brains added, over a mouthful of cereal.

“Oh god, now I’m having flashbacks to my mom’s minivan,” Melody groaned. “Those were the dark days.”

“Hey, no dark days means no Wasters, and I don’t know anybody else I’d be happy to split rent five ways with,” Brains said.

Skip walked over to the cereal box, taking out the Frooty Crumbles. “There enough coffee to share?”

“Sure, I made it extra dark though,” Pearce said, wiping his eyes. “Might keep you up.”

“I’ll make it work,” they replied, grabbing the milk off the table to pour into a clean cereal bowl. Emptying the rest of the bag with a generous pour, they looked down the box. “Hey, where’s my toy?”

Grace glanced at Brains, smirking. He just said, “Must have been a manufacturing defect.”

Skip stuck their hand through the bottom of the bag. “Yeah? And they closed up the bag with sticky tape at the factory?”

“Weird,” Grace commented.

“Stranger things,” Melody added.

“Maybe the toy’s just invisible,” Pearce finished. “Look again.”

They fell into uncontrolled snickers, save for Skip, who just rolled their eyes good-naturedly.

Pouring three cups of coffee–one for himself, one for Skip, and one into a baby bottle for Grace–Pearce passed them out, downed his cup, and finally started to make cereal for Grace. He made it milk-first, the correct way.

“Airplane or choo choo?” Pearce asked, raising a spoon.

Grace snorted. “Surprise me.”

 

...

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And of course, you can also read Chapter 11, "She's a Mess" early over on Patreon or SubscribeStar!

[kerry]

I've never even heard of adding the cereal to the milk instead of the other way around. Interesting... I'll have to give it a try next time I have cereal, though it will be complicated by the fact that my bowl of cereal consists of three different brands plus berries, bananas, or raisins...

[D503]

Nice chapter. Strong coffee means strong result!

How do you know how much milk to add?

I always loved the scene in the "Cyptonomnicon" book where Randy had a spoon to inject freezing cold milk directly into his mouth as he introduces the cereal at the same time. Dedication.

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 4/10/2022 at 2:03 AM, D503 said:

Nice chapter. Strong coffee means strong result!

How do you know how much milk to add?

I always loved the scene in the "Cyptonomnicon" book where Randy had a spoon to inject freezing cold milk directly into his mouth as he introduces the cereal at the same time. Dedication.

I haven't heard of that story - who wrote it? I tried finding it but got mixed results! 

On 4/9/2022 at 3:13 PM, kerry said:

I've never even heard of adding the cereal to the milk instead of the other way around. Interesting... I'll have to give it a try next time I have cereal, though it will be complicated by the fact that my bowl of cereal consists of three different brands plus berries, bananas, or raisins...

It's the Bad Way to do it, but some people might disagree with me.

[D503]

@PeculiarChangelingCryptonomicon (1999) by Neal Stephenson, a real nerd classic.

[PeculiarChangeling]

58 minutes ago, D503 said:

@PeculiarChangelingCryptonomicon (1999) by Neal Stephenson, a real nerd classic.

Thank you! I'm adding it to my TBR now!  

[PeculiarChangeling]

Hey, so I finally went back and completed chapter one!

It's at the start of this thread, I just edited the original chapter one post to include the complete version.  

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 11: She's A Mess

Author’s note: Hey, I haven’t done one of these author inserts in a while!

I realized that in earlier chapters, I forgot to specify precisely how time-out works. I’ll be going back to clarify those rules when I do the final novel draft, saying that it has to happen in the living room, and that there’ll be a kitchen timer ready to count out the hour, and that she can’t speak during it. Leaving time-out, speaking, or otherwise breaking the rules resets the timer.

 

“What time is it?” Brains asked, leaning over to glance at the clock on Grace’s laptop. Before she could answer, ‘Six oh two PM’, he read the display and flashed a triumphant grin.

“What happened at six?” she asked, taking note.

“Eh…” Brains paused, pursing his lips and considering his words carefully.

“Okay, before you open your mouth and lie to me, just know that I can tell you’re hiding something,” Grace interjected.

Brains considered for a moment longer, then said, “I’m not going to tell you.”

A stonewall was about the best defense he could have given, since any other answer she’d have been able to see through in an instant. Still, she pushed. “Brains… C’mon. You don’t need to keep it a secret.”

He shook his head. “I promised–”

“Hah!” Grace declared. “A clue. So you told someone you wouldn’t tell me about it?”

“Yeah, but–ah, dang.” Brains said, realizing he’d fallen into another trap.

She thought aloud. “So you wouldn’t tell me, specifically, which means…something to do with Pearce? Is he planning something that happened right after six?”

Brains sat back. “Shut up. I’m not saying anything else.”

While he refused to answer, Melody came down the stairs, glancing at the two of them. “So, Pearce hasn’t given up yet, huh?”

(Oh, you’re kidding me.) Grace put the pieces together, between Brains’ standoffish refusal to answer and Melody’s sudden interest. “Do you two have a betting pool going?”

“No,” Brains lied, appending it quickly to be, “Technically.”

Recognizing that the jig was up, Melody added, “Skip’s in on it too. It was their idea.”

“Fucking hell,” Grace groaned. “You made a bet, on our bet.”

“We weren’t going to tell you because it would bias the results,” Brains said. “But it’s a few bets, technically. Who’s going to win, and how long it’ll go, y’know.”

“Ugh, fine. Deal me in,” Grace said, reaching for where she’d normally have a jeans pocket. Instead, she’d been dressed in shortalls and a pink onesie, so she didn’t have her wallet on her. “Well, I’ll toss cash in the pot later. Pearce is out by tonight, and I’m going to win.”

“No can do, Gracey,” Melody said, leaning against the couch behind her. “You’re already involved, we can’t have any insider trading going on.”

“Whatever,” Grace said, sitting back. She had to admit, that was probably the fairest way of arranging things. “Wait, you said, ‘a few’ bets. What’s the third one?”

“I didn’t say there were three,” Brains said quickly.

“No, but you said, ‘a few’, and you’ve lectured me too many times on how “‘few’ should never be used when ‘couple’ would be better”, so I know you didn’t mean two,” Grace said.

Brains glanced at Melody, who still stood behind the couch, and Grace felt Melody’s shrug more than she saw it. “She already knows the rest.”

“So we are split on whether or not you’ll give up before you, uh, use your diaper,” Brains said.

“Well I already did, so…” Grace started. “Oooh.”

As if on cue, her belly grumbled a little, a twitch that reminded her what she hadn’t done since yesterday morning.

“Yeah,” Melody confirmed. “And before you ask, no, we won’t tell you what we’re betting on either.” The second comment seemed directed as much at Brains as at Grace, but Grace just shrugged.

“Anyways, I’m gonna go rap on Pearce’s door, make sure he doesn’t forget dinner,” Grace said, as much to excuse herself from the conversation as anything else.

She’d been putting it out of her mind, but now that it’d been pushed to the forefront of her thoughts, she couldn’t really ignore the growing pressure any longer. She needed to poop, and Pearce wasn’t likely to just randomly resign in the next hour without an incentive.

Knocking on his door, she said, “Hey, I’m hungry. When’s dinner?”

“I’ve got it under control,” Pearce called back. He sounded distracted, and Grace almost pushed the issue, but another gurgle in her stomach called her away.

Blushing, she stepped into her room, shut the door, and sat down on the bed.

“Okay,” she said under her breath. “It’s okay. It’s no big deal, and it’s going to make Pearce give up pretty much instantly.”

She told herself that a couple times before she believed it. It was gross for her, but she wasn’t the one who’d need to clean it up. Surely, Pearce would give up the instant he had to actually change her.

Even with that in mind, Grace had to talk herself up to it. She paced, she put on music to relax, she chewed her nails uncertainly. Maybe there was a gambit, some way she could force Pearce to resign first, some ploy…

“No,” she said, finally, facing herself in the full body mirror. She looked juvenile and, regrettably, adorable in her shortall-onesie combo. “Just do it. That’s the point. Don’t cheat the system, just play the game and win.”

With that pep talk over, still facing herself, she dropped into a squatting position, held her breath, and began to push into her slightly-damp diaper.

The dominant sensation she felt was a burning in her face, embarrassment shining through while she used her diapers for their intended purpose. The shortalls kept everything contained and pressed close to her body, and after holding it for nearly two days, the output of muck into her diaper felt torrential, smushing between her legs.

It took her most of a minute before she felt empty, and her diaper tried to sag but couldn’t, not with stretchy fabric and denim all snugly against her body. While it contained the weight, though, it couldn’t contain the smell, which hit her nostrils a moment later.

(Ugh,) she thought, sticking out her tongue and screwing up her face. (Okay. Just go find Pearce and be done with it.)

Opening her door, she waddled two steps down the hall and rapped on Pearce’s door. “Uh, Pearce?”

No response. (He’s got headphones on again.) She knocked louder, taking shallow breaths, bracing herself for the barrage of teasing he’d be sure to bring down on her. “Hey, Pearce!”

Still nothing. Scowling, she threw open the door, and–

His room was empty. Well, not exactly–it was full of trash and disheveled laundry, but there was no sign of Pearce.

She glanced at the bathroom, but that door stood open. He wasn’t in there.

Glowering, she stormed to the stairs, toddling down them in a huff.

Brains and Melody had moved to the couch, along with some random guy with a bit of stubble and an arm over Melody’s shoulder. She paid him little mind, not even bothering to really memorize his face. Knowing Melody, he wouldn’t be around for more than a day or so.

“Oh, hey,” Brains said, looking up from the TV. “What’s up?”

Grace glanced hesitantly at the new guy, but he may as well have been a stranger. “Where’s Pearce? I, um. I need a change.”

“He said he had some errands to run,” Melody said.

“Uh,” Brains raised a finger, hesitantly. “Grace. You just…”

“Yeah,” Grace said, blushing. “I know. That’s why I need a change.”

Brains shook his head. “Oh, no. You just broke part of Rule Four. What do you mean–” Only then did the smell hit him. He wrinkled his face, raising a hand to pinch his nose. “Ouch.”

“What?” Grace asked. “No I didn’t.”

“Yeah. You asked for a change,” Brains said. “Melody, back me up on this.”

Melody rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “Jesus, guys, really? Can you not have this conversation while my brother’s visiting?”

Grace blinked. The guy was–she did a double take, finally getting a clean look at his face. He had more stubble, much shorter hair, and he’d lost about forty pounds, but it was definitely him.

“Um.” She turned pinker. “Hi, Devon.”

He glanced back at her, avoiding eye contact. “Uh… hey, Grace. New digs?”

New humiliation rushing into her, Grace sputtered and spun, almost tripping over herself on her way up the stairs. She fled to her room, slammed the door, and collapsed onto her bed.

Two minutes passed before a knock came on her door. She hoped for Pearce, come to at least get this over with, but instead Brains spoke up. “Let me in.”

She almost yelled at him to go away, but Brains wouldn’t intrude without good reason.

“What?” she snapped.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes. What?”

He opened the door, shuffling inside, a hand to his nose, making him sound more nasal than usual when he spoke. “So, uh. You should really go sit in time out now.”

She rolled over, glaring at him. “WHAT?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” he said quickly. “You broke a rule. If you don’t go do your time-out now, Pearce is just going to make you do it when he gets home. You can’t get out of it early, and technically speaking, he doesn’t have to change you until it’s over–so the longer you put off time out, the longer you have to go without a change.”

She rolled back over, burying her face in her pillow. “Not while Devon’s here.”

“Well…” he started.

“Brains, he was my first crush,” Grace whimpered. “I pined after him for like three years in highschool. I tried to kiss him when he graduated. And he just saw me with shit in my diaper, dressed up like a goddamned doll.”

“Um…” Brains said. “He’s spending the night. So you’re not really going to avoid seeing him.”

Grace screamed into her pillow, rolled onto her back, and let out a breath.

“Fine. It’s fine. I’m fine. This. Is. Fine.”

Brains took a step forward, reaching out to touch her shoulder, even taking his hand from his nose. “You seem really upset. Are you sure you don’t want to just quit?”

“What, so you can win your share of the pot?” she shot.

His face turned still, and he took a step back. His voice now monotone, he said, “Okay. Bye.”

Grace’s eyes widened, and she sat up. Her full diaper squelched beneath her weight, but she barely cared. “Wait, Brains, I’m sorry–”

He was already walking away, and didn’t respond when she said his name.

She let him leave. His feet fell heavily on the stairs, echoing up the hall.

She swallowed. “Fuck.”

Getting up from the bed, she set her shoulders and walked back downstairs, wincing at every squelch of her diaper’s contents, marching right past Melody and Brains and Devon on the couch, over to the stool set up in the corner. Holding her breath, she sat down, the seat so low that her knees came halfway up her chest, and pressed the ‘start’ button on the timer. Her nose in the corner, all she could do now was wait.

Partly, she’d been persuaded to get it out of the way. Mostly, she wanted to show that she thought Brains was right. It was the best way she could think to apologize.

“What’s her deal?” Devon asked.

“It’s this stupid bet,” Melody explained. “She and Pearce got into a catfight, long story short, she and him are in a pissing contest hoping the other gives up first.”

“And that means she wears diapers?”

“Yeah,” Melody replied. “And uses them. And she can’t feed herself, or go ten minutes without complaining about Pearce.”

Grace couldn’t interject, to explain her side. She was in time out. She just had to sit there while the grown ups talked about her, stewing in her own mess, taking shallow breaths. She pulled her arms closer around her chest, watching the minutes tick down on the timer.

When thirty minutes had passed, the front door opened. “I hope you’re hungry! And Devon, I got enough for you,” Pearce announced, waltzing inside. “So let’s tuck in, and…Ew, what’s that…Okay, what the heck happened?”

Grace couldn’t turn around to see, but the smell of cheese and pasta sauce mingled with the more stale stink in the air, and her tummy rumbled. She also couldn’t explain.

“Grace broke a rule,” Brains said, simply.

“Aww, someone’s in twouble,” Pearce teased. “Sitting in time out in her ‘tinky diddees?”

Grace’s face flushed, and she held her breath to keep from responding.

“Well, this is what naughty babies get,” he continued, leaning over to pat her on the head. “Oh, and still half an hour? Oof, let’s hope she doesn’t run out of air!”

She balled her fists tighter. Just leave me alone, for fuck’s sake.

“Just think, if she’d held it a little longer, she wouldn’t have to sit in her icky-sticky diapers, making the room all smelly for the rest of us–”

“Fuck you!” Grace shot to her feet, wobbling for a moment. Her feet had fallen asleep, and she had to catch herself on the wall. “Where the fuck were you? You just up and left without telling me?”

“Um…” he took a step back, caught off guard by her outburst. Lifting the box from DiMaggio’s, he said, “I went to get pizza. Are you okay?”

It was her favorite pizza place.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck–

She spun back around, plopping back down on the seat. “Just leave me alone.” Fuming and petty, she pushed at the timer, resetting it back to an hour. Then, she buried her face in her arms, curled up into a ball, trying to shut out the rest of the room around her.

“Hey,” Pearce said. At first, Grace thought he was still talking to her, but the sound was wrong. He was facing away. “I’m making a babysitter executive decision. Grace isn’t in time out anymore. I can do that, right?”

“Whatever,” Brains said. “It’s your stupid bet.”

“Here, Grace–” Pearce put a hand on her shoulder, but she shoved it away. “Seriously, you can get up.”

“I’m not cheating,” she shot. “So fuck off.”

Reaching out, she reset the timer one last time. That last outburst had only cost her a couple seconds, anyways.

“Um. Okay. Well I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Grace retreated deeper into her arms, shut out the world, and hoped they wouldn’t see her silent tears.

 

...

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[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 12: Amends

Grace found herself floating in space when the timer buzzed.

She’d lost all sense of time, all sense of herself in the corner. Her eyes shut, her body wrapped into a tight little ball on the stool, she’d successfully shut out every part of the world that could remind her just how deeply she’d fucked up.

When the bzzt bzzt bzzt of the kitchen timer rattled in her ears, the world came rushing back in with it.

Her knees hurt from sitting in such an awkward position, and her butt hurt from the hard stool. She’d gone mostly nose-blind to the odor wafting from her diaper, but Grace could still tell it was there, accompanied by a squelch as she started to sit up.

“Hey,” Pearce said, behind her in a second, taking her arm.

Grace almost jerked away, but her legs had fallen asleep beneath the knees, and she’d have fallen if he didn’t catch her.

“You did it,” he praised. Grace thought he might be preparing more teasing, but his tone sounded authentic. “Let’s go get you clean, okay?”

A scathing retort built in her throat. She let it die and nodded. “Okay.”

She needed his support for the first dozen steps, till they got to the stairs. Even once she could walk on her own, though, she stayed with Pearce, letting him lead her up the stairs, holding onto her arm.

He took her to the bathroom, where not only were the changing supplies all laid out, the tub had been filled with sudsy water as well. “I figured, since it’d be about bath time anyways…” he explained with a shrug.

Grace nodded, getting on her knees before laying down onto the mat. When she’d pictured her first messy diaper in her head, she’d imagined herself taunting Pearce, challenging him to give up rather than get his hands dirty. She didn’t have the energy for verbal sparring, so she only laid back and let him go to work.

He unbuttoned the straps of her shortalls and pulled them down, then did the same with the button snaps of her onesie, pulling it up over her head.

That left her only in her diaper, which clung to her bottom in a lumpy, saggy mess. Taking a deep breath, Pearce untaped her diaper, unfolding it and exposing the muck within.

Grace crossed her arms over her naked chest and braced herself for the cold touch, but when Pearce began to work with the wipes, she felt warmth instead. She sat up, slightly, confused.

“I, uh, heated them up,” Pearce said, simply. “There was a DIY tutorial I found with a candle warmer–it doesn’t matter.”

“Thanks,” Grace mumbled.

She noticed his shallow breaths while he got her roughly clean, but neither of them said anything. Pearce just got her clean, doing a reasonably thorough job to make sure there was no mess left on her skin.

“Into the tub?” he said, offering his hand for support.

Grace accepted his offer and got to her feet, cautiously stepping into the warm-but-not-hot water. She sat in the tub, knees pulled up to her chest, trying not to openly pout.

Pearce let her steep in the water for a moment, taking the time to move the old diaper into the bathroom’s pail, stash the wipes, and wash his hands in the sink. “How’s the water?” he asked, snagging a washcloth as he crossed the two steps back to the tubside.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Grace replied.

He hesitated halfway through picking up the soap. “I’m not sure what that means for the water, though.”

“The water’s fine,” Grace added, pulling herself into an even tighter ball. “I’m just such an idiot. I didn’t even notice Devon until–And Brains, I was shitty to him for no reason.”

“He texted me to explain what happened.” Pearce sudsed up the washcloth, scrubbing her back gently.

“He couldn’t just tell you?” Grace asked, weighing what that meant.

Pearce pursed his lips. “No. He wasn’t talking much in general.”

Grace shut her eyes and pulled herself even tighter, resting her forehead on her knees. “Fuck. I’m such an asshole.”

“No you’re not.” Pearce set aside the washcloth for a moment. “I mean, you can behave like a real jerk sometimes, but that’s not what you are.”

“Hmm,” Grace mumbled.

“Hey.” Pearce rested a hand on her shoulder. “I need you to open up a bit, okay?”

Grace rolled her eyes. “I’m not really interested in a heart-to-heart.”

“No, I mean. So I can wash you, you’re bundled up tighter than a ball of yarn right now,” Pearce explained.

“Oh.” Grace released her arms and let her body unfold, sinking back into the tub.

He washed her down, in no particular hurry, ensuring Grace got properly clean. When he brought out the shampoo in particular, it felt alarmingly close to a scalp massage, and Grace couldn’t help but sink into it and smile.

Cleaned, washed, and rinsed, Pearce let her soak a little longer before pulling the plug. “Now let’s get you in your PJs for the night, okay? It’s almost past your bedtime, and you still need to have dinner.”

“Is the pizza still warm?” Grace asked.

“I set the oven to super low and have it resting in there,” Pearce confirmed. “It’s still warm.”

“Thanks,” she said, sitting up and reaching to drain the water.

“I think I should be the one to do that, technically speaking,” Pearce chided, but he didn’t stop her. Grace rolled her eyes, pulled the drain, and got out of the tub.

Her PJs were, at least, not too awful. Pearce had found a footed sleeper in her size, with pink-and-white stripes and a zipper in the back. After applying a liberal quantity of baby powder, he taped her up into a nighttime diaper, helped her step into the sleeper, and zipped it up in the back. The material was stretchy and snug enough that the outline of her thick diaper stood out obviously beneath the stripey fabric.

Once zipped up, Pearce paused to fiddle with something at the top, and Grace heard a little pop sound. “What was that?”

“An extra button that goes over the zipper,” Pearce preened. “It’s tamper-proofed, so little babies can’t take off their diapers at night.”

“Wait, what?” Grace turned to glance at him, eyes widening. “That wasn’t–”

“Relax,” Pearce rolled his eyes. “It’s not like, locked or anything. It’s just a pain in the ass to try and get yourself. I tried to make sure. Taking it off requires a lot of stretching and awkwardness, but putting it on without help is impossible.”

“Right, okay,” Grace said. “You know I wouldn’t cheat, right?”

“Then it won’t be a problem,” Pearce said, giving the back of her padded butt a pat. “Now let’s go get you your dinner, okay?”

Grace smirked, leading him down the stairs. The bottom of the footed sleeper had a grippy rubbery material that kept her from slipping, and even with the waddle from her diaper, she had no trouble moving around. The intoxicating smell of DiMaggio’s pizza wafted from downstairs, and she could almost imagine herself floating in the air and hovering towards it on the smell trail alone like an old cartoon.

She passed Devon, who had some blankets and a pillow set up on the couch for the night, though he was still wide awake and talking to Melody. He glanced at her, she shrugged and marched right past, ignoring her anxiety in favor of food and eventual sleep.

Pearce got the pizza out and poured some cream soda into a baby bottle, passing the drink to her so she could suckle it while he cut the pizza into bite-size cubes. It didn’t have quite the same satisfaction as biting into a too-large slice of pizza and filling up her mouth with saucy goodness, but the individual bites were still pizza, and carried with them intense satisfaction.

As she munched her way through two slices, Pearce asked, “Are you feeling better?”

“I wasn’t sick,” Grace replied. “Just–mmph.” Another bite of pizza cut off her next words, and she had to chew, giving Pearce a moment to reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He ruffled her hair, then set the fork aside. “Well, let’s see. You’re fed, bathed, and clean. It’s actually a little past bedtime, but we’re calling that a wash because of timing problems, so…”

“Wait,” Grace said, wiping her mouth with her arm. “There’s one other thing I need to do before bed.”

Pearce pursed his lips, using a napkin to wipe her mouth more effectively. “It’s your bedtime, baby butt.”

“Please?” she asked. “I’m not going to beg, but… please?”

He considered. “What do you need to do?”

…

Grace leaned against the door to Brains’ bedroom, texting out her message. “I’m sorry about earlier. I behaved like a jerk and lashed out at you. I know you were helping me.”

After only a second, the ‘message received’ icon changed so she knew he’d read it, but no ‘typing’ icon appeared.

She waited. He needed time.

After two minutes, he finally started typing. ‘I should have known you were upset and approached you differently. It’s my fault.’

Grace had prepared for his defensiveness. ‘No it’s not, dummy. I hurt you. It’s my fault.’

‘I shouldn’t have reacted so badly either. It was just a few words.’

‘If someone blasts a hole in your boat, it’s not your fault if you were over deep water.’

No response, but he saw her message.

A couple more minutes passed. Finally, he sent back, ‘I accept your apology.’

She smiled. The reply might have seemed a bit cold and inauthentic from anyone else, but for Brains, she knew he meant it.

‘Goodnight, Brains. You’re a good friend. I owe you one.’

She pushed to her feet, waddling to her own bedroom, where Pearce waited by her crib.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “Ready. Let’s get this day over with.”

He tucked her in. Despite having a little time left before lights out, it was only a minute after he was gone that she fell into a deep, cozy sleep.

 

...

 

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[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 13: Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

 

Contains: Messing, Diaper Change, Feeding

Grace had learned her lesson after her first mess.

It’d been a day and a half since she humiliated herself in front of Devon, and things had…dare she say it, settled into a routine. Pearce hadn’t yet fucked up, much to her chagrin, it looked like she’d be getting used to using her diaper the other way.

This time, though, she made sure he was actually home first. Even though she couldn’t overtly ask for a change, she still had ways to ensure a swift cleanup.

Squatting down by her bedroom door, she pushed through the mental block that told her she should be on a toilet, letting out the muck until her body was empty and her diaper was full. Wearing a baby blue miniskirt and a matching blue blouse, it had to look adorable, but she wasn’t worried about that–it wasn’t as though she had an audience. The squelch between her thighs as she stood was still gross, but at the very least she wouldn’t be in it for long.

Getting up, she rapped on Pearce’s door. “Hey. I’m thirsty.”

That was her cover–get his attention with something innocuous. That way, he’d be aware she needed a change, without her having to ask.

He answered the door a second later. “Sure thing, just…” wrinkling his nose, he sniffed, and smirked.

(Here comes the smart response,) Grace thought.

Instead, Pearce just continued. “Sure thing, I’ll go get that for you.”

Grace opened her mouth to object, but there was little to say. They both knew he’d dodged the issue, only she wasn’t allowed to call him out on it.

Stunned, she crossed her arms and waited by the door while Pearce went downstairs. She could return to work while she waited, but sitting at her desk sounded unpleasant while her diaper was full, so she just waited.

Pearce returned with a bottle a moment later, passing it to her. “There you go. Bye!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

“What, did you need something else?” he asked.

Grace blushed. “Eh…”

Raising two fingers in a mock salute, Pearce said, “I hereby give you permission to tell me whatever you want.”

(He’s really going to make me say it out loud, isn’t he?) Grace fumed. “I…need a diaper change.”

“Oh?” he tilted his head, grinning. “And why’s that?”

“Because…” (Asshole) “I pooped in my diaper.”

Pearce tapped on his chin. “And when did this happen, stinky?”

“Like…five minutes ag–” (Wait, no, he’s not–)

“Then it sounds like I’ve got fifty five more minutes before I’ve got to go anywhere near your smelly bottom,” Pearce beamed. “Don’t worry, I’ll set a timer.”

“Jerk!” Grace protested. “You set me up!”

“And youuuu fell for it,” Pearce replied in a singsong, turning to waltz back into his room. “Enjoy your water, stinky baby.”

Grace balled up her hands into fists, and very nearly stomped a foot in annoyance, but that would only bring further teasing.

She fumed all the way into her room, sat down at her desk furiously–no longer caring about the smush–and opened her laptop to get back to work.

Only a minute later, Pearce rapped on her door, pushing it open. “On second thought, I can’t have you pouting. Meet me in the bathroom, okay?”

She blinked. Was that… mercy? From Pearce?

“Where’s the trick?” she asked, getting up.

“No trick,” he promised, offering his hand out to her. “I’d really just wanted to see your face when I told you no.”

Grace took his hand, allowing him to lead her into the bathroom. He set her down on the toilet lid, so she could wait while he spread out the changing supplies.

“I was thinking about takeout for dinner again,” Pearce said. “I’ll let you pick. Chinese or Tex-Mex?”

A quip about how Pearce just didn’t want to do dishes came to mind, but Grace squashed it down. Biting the hand that literally fed her would just be petty. “Uh, Tex Mex,” she decided. “I guess. I’m not really hungry right now.”

He smirked, making a show of wrinkling his nose again. “I can guess why. Lay down, let’s get your tush changed.”

Grace obeyed, and he went to work. He removed her skirt completely, sliding it down her hips and away so it wouldn’t get dirty in the process. Her diaper was only a little soggy, and she hadn’t moved around that much, so the cleanup wasn’t disastrous. Her thighs, butt, and crotch were quickly cleaned, and then powder was applied, and…

Blushing, Grace looked away while he rubbed in the powder.

“Aww, the baby’s shy,” Pearce teased. “I was hoping you’d still get blushy when you made another stinky diaper–it was starting to get boring.”

She nodded, a little, but felt glad he hadn’t noticed the real source of her blush. Grace felt wet, and not from having used her diaper.

Holding it together, Grace patiently as he pulled her skirt back on, and she definitely didn’t feel her blush deepen as his hands moved up her legs. Once she was dressed, she shot upright. “Yeah, thanks, gotta get back to work.”

Caught off guard by her haste, Pearce tilted his head, but he was too puzzled to ask. He took her hand and helped her up, and she waddled away before he could even start cleaning up the changing supplies.

(What the hell?) Grace shut her bedroom door behind her, heart starting to pound. She didn’t like this. It didn’t make sense–for one, it had been a diaper change. For two, it was Pearce.

Reaching down, she slipped a hand under her skirt and inside her diaper, testing herself with two fingers.

Yup. Wet. Frustratingly so.

Inhaling and exhaling, Grace rationalized, whispering to herself. “Okay, it’s just because it’s been a few days. You’re pent up, that’s all.”

A mental image flashed by, Pearce’s hand on her thighs, caressing her skin while he wrapped her in her diaper–

(Shut up, libido, you don’t get a vote here!)

It was just a matter of timing. She hadn’t had a chance to rub one out since the bet started, and her body expected a certain routine. That was all. There wasn’t anything else going on here. Just a problem which she could easily solve.

Checking to ensure her door was locked, Grace decided on a course of action. She didn’t have a lot of toys–certainly nothing like Melody’s absurd collection of side pieces–but she didn’t need much. Opening her dresser drawer, she glanced around as though someone might have snuck into her room in the last twenty seconds.

She felt anxious. If someone caught her–it wasn’t like she had to be ashamed of masturbating, but Pearce would tease her to death if he knew she’d done it with her diaper on. And, while she could take it off, that’d potentially get her in trouble. It’d just take one glance to confirm that the tapes had been moved, and if she tried to lie…

The diaper would stay on. Checking the charge, she crossed to her desk, sitting down in front of her computer. She didn’t strictly need porn, but she wanted something that would take her mind off the specifics, she she queued something up anyways–some generic video with a blonde hotty being railed by a scruffy-in-a-handsome-way mechanic.

It didn’t take much. Firing up the wand, she pressed it into the outside of her diaper, quickly working herself up. Knowing everyone else was awake, she covered her mouth to stifle a moan, riding to the climax, forcing herself to remain silent through it all.

Relaxing back into her chair, she caught her breath, momentarily powering down the vibrator.

(There,) she thought. (It’s out of my system.)

She hesitated, as the next video on the porn site began to auto play.

Clicking the wand back on, she thought, (Still, it can’t hurt to be sure…)

…

“Wow, you really soaked these, didn’t you?” Pearce teased, as he finished changing her before dinner.

“A lot of water, I guess,” Grace replied, dodging around what, exactly, had soaked her diaper. “When’s takeout get here?”

He tossed her sodden diaper in the pail, checking his phone. “Any minute now. Can I trust you to put on your skirt so I can go meet the driver?”

“Mmm,” Grace considered. “That sounds like dodging your responsibility to me…”

He scratched his chin. “Fair enough. It’s late, you don’t need your skirt anyways.”

She flushed. “Huh?”

“Babysitter decision–your new outfit for the evening’s just a shirt and a diaper.” He gave her a pat on the thigh, indicating that the change was done.

Grace hesitated, thinking if she could press the issue. It wasn’t as though she could argue that it was too cold–the skirt didn’t offer much in the way of insulation–but she’d been looking forward to that moment where he put the skirt back on her.

Unable to even parse her own disappointment, she just shrugged. “Sure. Want to watch a show while we eat?”

Pearce shrugged. “I guess you can put something on. Gotta go–delivery’s here.”

He half jogged out of the bathroom, leaving Grace to get up and follow him down at a more leisurely waddle. By the time she got downstairs, he’d returned from the porch with a plastic bag full of tacos.

She found something to put on the TV while he fetched a bottle, and in just a few minutes, he’d begun trying to feed her.

Trying, that is.

Turns out, crunchy tacos were a difficult thing to feed to another person. Grace’s first bite cracked the taco around the base, sending filling tumbling down. Pearce managed to catch most of it in his hand, though a little got on her shirt and diaper in the process.

Smirking, Pearce glanced between the loose taco filling in his hand and Grace, then in one motion opened his mouth and crammed it in, chewing for a moment and swallowing. “S’still good,” he mumbled.

Grace laughed. “Did you get any soft tacos?”

He shrugged, sheepishly, wiping down her shirt with a napkin. “You like the crunchy ones more, right?”

“I…yeah,” Grace said, surprised he knew that. “But soft might be easier to eat without a tacovalanche.”

“I got two,” Pearce said, digging in the bag. “Here, open wide!”

That went a little better–he had to fold it up almost like a burrito, but the food went in her mouth without a second Great Taco Migration down her shirt. She got the second soft taco, and that–plus some chips–were enough of a meal to make up for not finishing any of they crunchy ones.

“All full?” he asked, as he got her wiped down and clean.

Grace nodded, resisting the impulse to snatch the napkin and wipe herself off–he was missing so many spots. “Mhmm, thanks. That was yummy.”

“Great! I’m glad you liked it,” Pearce said, picking up the bag with his half of the tacos. Pushing up from the couch, he added, “Give me a holler if you need more water or anything, I’ll just be you-know-where.”

“Oh.” Grace felt something in her chest sink. “You’re not going to watch the show?”

He glanced at the TV. “I wasn’t even paying attention, I couldn’t tell you what’s going on. Plus I told a friend I’d be on for some gaming. That’s not a problem, right?”

“No, of course not,” Grace said. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

He shrugged. “Sure. I’ll come find you around bedtime, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Grace watched him go up the stairs, then reached for the remote, turning off the TV. Truth be told, she hadn’t been paying attention to the show either. She had no idea what was going on.

And she didn’t know why she felt so disappointed, either.

 

...

 

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[Bonsai]

It has all the stereotypes of a classic romantic comedy, but they work well and it feels really nice to read. Good work!

[Thad]

Love is in the air now lol or at the very least affection.

[PeculiarChangeling]

12 hours ago, Bonsai said:

It has all the stereotypes of a classic romantic comedy, but they work well and it feels really nice to read. Good work!

Exactly what I'm going for.

5 hours ago, Thad said:

Love is in the air now lol or at the very least affection.

Naaaah, Grace is probably just imagining things. Right? Right?!  

[Thad]

2 hours ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

Exactly what I'm going for.

Naaaah, Grace is probably just imagining things. Right? Right?!  

Who knows, not I! ?

[Sarah Penguin]

leaving a baby alone  most of the day is asking for disaster. she  could draw on the walls, fall and hurt herself, get eaten by the potty monster, or dump her full on a qcomputer so it dies.  

[D503]

Just caught up - excellent stuff- very interesting emotions now!

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter Fourteen: Stimulation

 

“M-hmm,” Grace nodded, listening intently. “Yeah, I can do that. No problem.”

The conference call had thus far gone swimmingly. It was far lengthier than it needed to be and incredibly tedious, but she’d long since resigned herself to just putting up with this part of her job. Feedback and commentary was a necessary part of the design phase, even if many of her clients were incurious jerk-offs whose only ideas boiled down to, ‘Make it look more generic, please’.

She smiled, as one of the men on the call suggested a more minimalist color scheme.

There was, at least, one new bonus she had for these calls. Normally, they dragged on so long that she’d be desperate to pee by the end, or simply have to excuse herself for a quick restroom break. Today, though, she could skip that process completely.

From the waist up, Pearce had allowed her a standard, modest, professional style of dress–her hair was straight with no bows or tails and her shirt was a simple button down top. Below the waist, though, she was almost naked, with the only garment being her puffy pink diaper.

“After all,” Pearce had pointed out. “It’s not like the webcam can see that far down, right?”

She had only felt a moment’s hesitation before releasing her bladder mid call. She’d end up using the diaper anyways, she’d already done so plenty of times over the past week, and it’s not like anyone could tell–holding it would simply mean that she was needlessly uncomfortable for the remainder of the conversation.

Her diaper grew warm as the dampness spread down between her legs, and she let out a tiny sigh of relief. “More minimalist?” she confirmed. “Sure, we can work that in–there’s only two colors right now, though. Were you thinking of cutting that down to plain white?”

Twenty more minutes of hemming and hawing went by before they decided to leave it as-is, thank god. If she followed all of their suggestions, the design would look like an AI-generated clone of MySpace, without any of the charm.

Eventually, mercifully, the call ended. They said their goodbyes, a couple awkward seconds passed before the call ended, and she sat back. “Hey, Pearce! Call’s over.”

She half expected him to ignore her call, and then she could claim to have done her due diligence and could get back to work in a set of fairly normal clothes–or at least half a set of fairly normal clothes.

Instead, Pearce appeared just a moment after she called, grinning widely, aggressively pink clothing draped over his arm. “All done playing dress-up?”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s the outfit for today?”

He shrugged. “Going back to the shortalls–my supply of baby clothes isn’t infinite, you know. First, though, I need you to stand up.”

Obeying, Grace raised her hands so he had direct access to her diaper. Smirking, Pearce stepped forward, reaching down to give the front of the sodden padding a squeeze–

Um–

“Yup,” Pearce said, smirking. “Someone’s soggy.”

“Whatever,” Grace spluttered. “I–whatever.”

“Wow, still shy about it,” Pearce added, a grin spreading across his face. “How many soggy diapers have you been through now? I was sure the blushes had all been changed out of you, but nope.”

Her heart was racing. Why is it racing? She shook her head. “Are you going to change me or no?”

Pretending to think, he gave her diaper one more squeeze before shrugging. “I think you’ll last a little while longer–maybe in an hour or two. For now, let’s just get you dressed.”

Unfolding the clothes, he set them out on Grace’s desk. Her pink elastic shortalls and a plain white onesie. Before she could begin unbuttoning her shirt, he stepped in and did it for her, fingers deftly removing the buttons, exposing her chest–

Grace swallowed as he undressed her, then raised the onesie. “Arms up?”

She obeyed, moving mechanically, her brain lost in a haze. Nothing made sense, the way her body was reacting had no logical explanation. She stepped into her shortalls, Pearce straightened the straps over her shoulders, and her outfit was complete.

“Alright, I’ve got to run a couple errands, I’ll be back in maybe two hours,” Pearce said. “I’ve asked Melody to check in on you while I’m out, to make sure you don’t take the opportunity to get me into trouble. You need anything from the store?”

She shrugged. “Eh–if I think of anything, I’ll text you.”

He nodded, winked, and left her room. Grace stepped up, shut the door, and pressed her back into it.

“What the fuck,” she whispered to herself.

Beneath her diaper, she was dripping wet–well, she was wet in a way that had nothing to do with her accident half an hour prior. It’d just taken a little touch from Pearce, and–

“Wait, no. That’s not it.” It hadn’t been Pearce. Of course it hadn’t, it was Pearce. But now, two days in a row, his touch had drawn this sort of feeling out of her.

She wasn’t pent up any longer. That couldn’t be the problem. She’d relieved that outlet already, hadn’t she?

Maybe one day wasn’t enough. Maybe the whole diaper-baby-Pearce thing was so negatively opposed to any sort of arousal that her body was fighting it by kicking things up to eleven. She wasn’t the most sexually driven person in the house–Melody made sure of that–but she wasn’t without her needs either. What she needed was a little more regular attention. She could get back into her regular routine of masturbating every day or two, and then with things more consistent and normal, her body would stop it with all these misplaced emotions.

That was it. It wasn’t anything to do with Pearce, it was just a coincidental touch in a particularly sensitive area. She’d just whip out the ol’ vibrator before bed and take care of the problem that evening.

Sighing with relief, Grace walked back to her desk and sat down, intent on returning to work and getting her mind off things. She had designs to mock up and send for approval, after all. Opening up her notes, she buckled down and began to focus.

Forty minutes later, she’d accomplished fuck-all.

It was one thing to decide to focus, and another thing entirely to actually do it. She’d just been shuffling between different notes, tabbing between pages and generally doing anything except be productive.

“God dammit,” she said, moving over to a browser and tabbing to her favorite source of erotic videos. She’d rub one out real quick, get her focus back, and resume work.

She wasn’t picky when it came to porn. It was just porn, she just needed something to get her motor going while she did all the work herself. And, in this particular case, she was so ready to go that some of the spicier banner ads nearly did it for her.

Picking a video at random of some chick being wooed and then thoroughly fucked by a fashionably-unkempt guy Grace slipped her hand down the front of her onesie. The fabric was a little restrictive, but she got her hand around the side of her onesie, slipping two fingers down the front of her diaper.

As she reached in, she heard the start of an adhesive rip, similar to the sound of peeling away scotch tape. She hesitated. She could always stick the tab back down later, but she wanted to avoid any accusation of trying to tamper with her diaper. Accusations could lead to explanations, and explanations would mean having to tell Pearce what she’d been up to. He might not have been much of a Sherlock, but even he could put the pieces together between her flustered reaction earlier and her masturbation just after he left.

Better to stay discreet. Withdrawing her hand, Grace wiped her fingers off on the shortalls and reached inside the bottom drawer of her desk.

Unwrapping the cable from around the toy, she plugged it into her desk, leaned back, and turned on the vibrator. Pressing it into her diaper–

“Oh god,” she groaned, quietly, biting down on her lip.

Her back arched with pleasure, and she wondered why she hadn’t already started doing this every day. The diaper didn’t matter, it was still fun. The porn on her laptop may as well not have existed, she didn’t need it, she just needed the vibrator and her own imagination.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back, pressing it into herself. She was already so close, and–

“Um…Grace?” Melody’s voice cut through Grace’s self-focused pleasure in an instant.

Eyes snapping open, she clicked off the vibrator and spun in her chair, shocked to see Melody standing in the doorway. “Jesus, Melody! Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Melody shrugged. “Cliche, much? Besides, you’re one to talk about privacy, you’ve walked in on me doing way worse–”

“In the living room!” Grace shot back. “You don’t get an expectation of privacy when you’re getting double teamed on our couch.”

“Hey, no judgment here, you do you,” Melody said. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need a change. Pearce asked me to.”

Pursing her lips, Grace shook her head. “Well I don’t. Thanks for checking. Leave, please?”

Melody almost started to leave, then paused. “Wait, I’m not supposed to take your word for it.”

“Okay, Brains,” Melody replied, rolling her eyes. “You’re not pulling the rules pedant card on me, are you?”

“No, I’m pulling the, ‘I wouldn’t put it past you to cheat,’ card,” Melody replied. “How much water have you drank since Pearce left? You could be trying to leak, and if that happens while he’s gone, it’ll turn into another stupid argument.”

Tossing her hands up, Grace stood. “Fine, whatever. You can check me.” She was prepared for the sudden heart flutter at an outside touch this time, and was ready to suppress a blush and any stammering.

Stepping forward, Melody felt her through her onesie and shortalls, giving a gentle squeeze. Grace steadied herself, and…

Nothing. Not even the slightest twinge of arousal.

“Uh…” she said aloud, caught off guard.

Melody shrugged. “Okay, that doesn’t feel flooded or anything. I’ll let you get back to it.”

“I’m not–whatever,” Grace said. “Next time, knock.”

“Have fun,” Melody replied, ignoring Grace’s discomfort as she turned to wander out of the room.

“Wait,” Grace called out, stopping Melody before she could shut the door.

Turning, Melody raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“What’s the longest you’ve gone without, like, sex?” Grace asked. “Once you moved out, that is.”

“Are we counting self stimulation?” Melody asked, tilting her head and thinking about it. “That’d be…six days, when I got my hood pierced, they said to wait a month, but…yeah.”

Grace pursed her lips, thinking again. “Did you feel out of whack for a while after that? Like, was your sex drive even higher than you were used to?”

Melody shrugged. “Not really. Why?”

“Just…don’t want to throw anything off, I guess,” Grace said, coming up with a quick lie. “I haven’t since…well, since the bet started. Kind of starved, if you know what I mean, so I didn’t know what to expect.”

“You should be fine, I don’t think you’ll morph into some kind of sex crazed maniac because you didn’t cum for a week,” Melody said. “Still, I’ll leave you to it just in case.” She didn’t shut the door, and Grace had to lean over and slam it shut instead.

“Ugh,” Grace said. She’d been so put off by the whole thing that, apparently, the arousal had left her. No longer interested in finishing, she turned back to her computer, where the porn was still playing…

Okay, maybe the arousal hadn’t left her completely. Regaining her drive, she reached for her hitachi, switching it on.

 

...

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[bobindiapers]

That was a fun chapter. I wonder if Pearce is developing the same feelings for Grace that she is for him? 

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 15: Out Maneuvered

 

 

“Inspection time!” Pearce declared, grinning sarcastically at Grace.

This was it. The day she’d been dreading, the make-or-break point in their bet.

It was clear that her plans had not panned out, not as she’d initially conceived them. Pearce had endurance beyond her wildest expectations. Minor mistakes aside, he’d proven to be able to stick it out through the tedium, the annoyances, the getting up at a reasonable time in the morning. He’d even proven himself capable of tolerating messy diaper changes.

Were she being honest, Grace would have to admit that Pearce had proved her wrong. He’d stuck it out, proved he could caretake–or, at least, that he could follow strict instructions for longer than a few days.

Grace didn’t need to be honest. She didn’t want to be honest, either, she wanted to win. Her initial summation of Pearce’s incompetence was no longer the driving force to this bet: Ambition and stubbornness drove her to outlast him.

But now she was being tested in a way she’d hoped would never come.

She had to leave the house.

For Pearce, this was a break. An opportunity to kick up his feet and take it easy for a couple hours. For Grace, it was the moment she had to risk being seen in diapers, not by friends or even by Melody’s various paramours, but by strangers.

Grace resolved that, if she made it through the day, she would find a way to put the pressure on.

“Let’s see,” Pearce said, hand lingering on her diaper while he ‘checked’ to see if she was dry. He knew she was dry–he’d changed her not five minutes before, but he liked how she blushed and squirmed. He still assumed it was embarrassment that made her cheeks flush, and Grace wasn’t about to admit any other alternative. “All dry–and you’ve got a change in your purse?”

“Mhmm,” Grace grumbled. She’d been allowed to dress herself for once, and gone with a business skirt and top. She had an in-person meeting with clients and wanted to look as professional as possible, while hiding her diaper as thoroughly as she could.

“And you’ll get permission before you change your soggy bottom, if it’s been four hours and you really have to,” Pearce added.

“Yes,” Grace replied. “Can I go? I’m going to be late to catch the bus.”

“Mhmm,” Pearce replied.

“I’ll be back later,” Grace said, holding up her phone to gesture with it. “If something comes up, I’ll text you. Please stay off my back, I need this meeting to go smooth. Okay?”

“Okay. Have a great time, crinkles.” Pearce waved her goodbye, and she left the house.

…

Pearce found himself, for the first time in a while, with no responsibilities.

It was an unusual sensation. For the past week he’d always had Grace on the back of his mind–or, well, he’d tried to. Reminders on his phone had been all but mandatory to keep him on track.

He wasn’t trying to slack off, it’s just that every time he made a mental note to do something, the proverbial ink seemed to run off the page and he’d forget in minutes. Practice didn’t seem to help, only clearly labeled notifications on his phone–which worked, except for the times he forgot to set those notifications.

But hey, for now, he didn’t have to worry about that. He had the afternoon to himself.

Shoot, I have groceries, right?

Walking to the kitchen, Pearce checked his section of the fridge. He had a decent amount of food, enough to last a couple more days, though he was low on milk. The supply of baby food he’d purchased to mess with Grace had dwindled, but he felt skeptical that replacing it would accomplish much. Clearly, she was stuck out for the long haul.

He wondered what would make her break first–he’d suspected that the lack of romance in her life might be a problem, but unlike Melody, Grace didn’t seem to mind not having a partner. Even if her hilariously puffy bottom and menagerie of embarrassing outfits didn’t quash her romantic prospects, she wasn’t too bothered about not seeing anyone.

There was always the option of making the food extremely unpleasant. Since Grace was mostly around just the wasters lately, she had grown resistant to the embarrassment of baby clothes, so that was the one dial he had left to turn to try and push her into quitting.

He checked the fridge.

Hmm. I need milk.

Making a mental note, he grabbed a soda, planning out what to do with his free time. There were some jobs he could work on–freelance graphic design work had been pretty good to him–and he needed to finish up those projects.

Since the time was all his to spend, though, he could relax a bit first. A quick break to play some video games, and then he’d buckle down and finish the important work.

Wandering up to his room, he fired up his gaming rig, booted up the most recent open world game he’d been playing through, and sank into the play session. He’d only play for a little while, but it was fun to let his mind wander.

Ding!

He checked his phone. A text from Grace. ‘I’d like to get a drink since I’m meeting my clients at a coffee shop. Is that alright?’

‘Sure,’ he texted back. ‘Get whatever you want.’

Was she at the meeting already? She’d just left, and… he checked the time and, no, she hadn’t just left. It’d been a solid thirty minutes since he sat down.

“Hmm,” he mused, pausing the game. That was as long as he’d intended to play, though it felt like he’d just started. Exercising his willpower, he saved, quit out, and tabbed over to his web browser to check client emails.

Instead, another tab he’d saved caught his eye.

Baby clothes he’d considered picking up for Grace. He clicked on the website, looking through what he’d saved.

It really depended on how well he could sell things to the others. Embarrassing clothes weren’t doing much to Grace, so if he wanted her to give up, he’d need to up the ante to impractical and annoying. One option he’d been looking at was this plastic and metal thing that’d make her crawl, but that would be a tough sell–it was very nearly just straight bondage gear, and claiming it was ‘clothes’ wouldn’t get him very far.

On the other hand, there were middle ground options. A onesie with extra padding between the legs, a literal pillow crammed down there to force waddling upon the wearer…that might be something he could fly under the radar. Similarly, locking mittens were going too far, but he might be able to win on a pair of booties with slick soles, designed to make walking tricky.

He smirked. With the right conversation, he could have Grace crawling around the house. It’d be cute–

Well, not cute. Humiliating for her. Enough to make her give up.

Okay, maybe still a little cute.

Either way, he needed something to compel her to quit. Just running with the status quo wasn’t going to work, and he doubted that she would just continue with things as they were. Grace was probably planning something. He had to plan back, or else the bet would never end.

He continued looking at options, until his phone beeped again.

‘Meeting went well–I’ve got to run a hard drive to the post office and ship it, then I’ll be on my way home.’

Pearce blinked. How had two hours gone by?

He’d gone down another rabbit hole, lost track of time.

Stupid, he thought at himself.

Grimacing, he turned his attention, finally, to work. He needed to accomplish something with the free time he’d been granted before Grace got home. Opening up a client email, he skimmed it.

He skimmed it again. The words were bouncing off his brain, refusing to stick.

He skimmed the email a third time, putting together what they were asking for. Easy. He could do a mockup in photoshop in twenty minutes and send it back to them.

By the time he’d booted up photoshop, though, he’d begun second guessing his plan for the mockup.

He skimmed the email again. No matter how much effort he put behind it, he just couldn’t direct his focus on the email. He wanted to yell at his computer–some days, he could sit down and just glide through designs for hours, but others, even the most basic tasks were like pulling teeth.

He sighed, sitting back. A break would help him focus, center him so he could direct his attention properly.

Sitting back, he fired up the game again, just for a few minutes–

“I’m home!” Grace called from downstairs.

Pearce rubbed at his face. He’d done it again. Blown off forty minutes without realizing it’d even passed.

At least it was dinner time, now–he couldn’t screw up making dinner.

Pushing away from his desk, Pearce ambled down the stairs. “Hi there. How’s the sog monster doing?”

“Very well, thank you,” Grace said, kicking off her shoes, barely even rolling her eyes while he reached under her skirt. She was barely damp–a surprise, given how long she’d been gone, but he didn’t think much of it.

“I’ll get you changed into something more appropriate after dinner, okay?” he said. “What sounds good–pizza or mac and cheese?”

She pursed her lips. “Are those the only two options? We’ve had both, like, three times this week.”

“I don’t even have to give you a choice, y’know,” Pearce said. “They’re easy to make.”

She shrugged. “Mac and Cheese, then.”

“Coming right up!” He smiled, turning to waltz to the kitchen and start preparing–

Oh right. He was out of milk.

“Uh,” he called across the house. “Gonna be pizza after all, sorry.”

…

“Fine, pizza, whatever,” Grace called back, smirking to herself.

Her plan was working flawlessly. She’d had four cups of coffee and a couple cups of water at her meeting, and she’d only used her diaper once. Her bladder was near bursting, but her padding was merely damp.

Operation, ‘Get Pearce in trouble’ was a go.

She’d made sure he checked her when she got home. That way, she couldn’t be accused of not changing herself when she’d needed it.

Her plan was downright machiavellian.

She released her bladder, flooding her diaper. Pressing her thighs together, she deliberately overloaded the padding, keeping it squeezed so it couldn’t absorb, so much urine rushing in that it simply couldn’t handle the deluge.

Her diaper leaked, urine trickling down her thighs. She’d taken off her shoes so they wouldn’t get wet–her socks, she was willing to sacrifice.

“Uh, Pearce,” she called, grinning, though she kept the triumph out of her tone.

“What’s that?” he called from the kitchen. “You need something?”

“Remind me how much you have to chip in to the beer fund when you break the rules?” she asked.

“I can’t remember, but… why… shit.” Pearce’s tone of realization and concern made Grace’s heart flutter.

She’d found the way to make him break.

 

...

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[Sarah Penguin]

Platypus Rex

[PeculiarChangeling]

3 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

Platypus Rex

I don't understand ?

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 16: Consequences 

 

“Forty seven, forty eight, forty nine… fifty,” Brains counted out, accepting the wad of cash Pearce had handed over. He deposited it into the house’s beer fund, a ceramic piggy bank with a plugged hole in the bottom. “That’s everything.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice,” Grace said, smirking at him. She’d been changed and dressed in a fairly plain outfit, by Pearce’s standard–just a baby blue dress that came down to her knees, something from her actual normal wardrobe. “I was practically dripping when I got home.”

“But–” Pearce said. He would have sworn on a bible that she’d barely been damp. He’d noticed it, and thought to himself that it was strange, and–there’s no way I missed that, right?

“What, I should have warned you and gotten myself a time out?” Grace asked, incredulous. “Yeah, right, get myself in trouble to keep you safe. This is all on you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely. His heart had started to beat a little faster, and he felt trapped by the eyes on him–Brains, Melody, who was mostly down to just use the kitchen, and Grace, whose smug smile burned a hole in his thoughts. “I…”

Seriously, how stupid am I?

Shaking his head, he silently berated himself for missing something so obvious. The discomfort made him squirm, made him want to–

“You were seriously close to leaking?” he asked. Desperate for an answer other than the truth, some indicator that he hadn’t missed something so obvious. He felt like an idiot.

“You seriously missed it?” Grace shot back. “My diaper was almost falling off. Do you really think you’re qualified to take care of anyone if you don’t notice something that obvious?”

Pearce looked between her, and Brains, and Melody–who was minding her own business, waiting for the microwave to stop whirring. He’d find no comfort there.

Retreating, he said, “Pff, whatever.”

Turning on his heels, he started walking away.

“What about dinner?” Grace demanded.

“Later,” Pearce replied. “Before bed. Just–later. I’m not hungry.”

“I am,” Grace said.

“Then whine about it. Later.” He rolled his eyes, threw up his hands, slumped his shoulders. His classic, ‘I don’t care, leave me alone’ posture.

Only he had historically used it on teachers and his parents, not on anyone in the waster’s club.

He shuffled up to his room and locked the door, found his headphones from his desk, and started blasting music. Loud enough to shut out the world.

It wasn’t that he’d made a mistake. It was that he’d forgotten about it. Normally he spaced things off, sure. Time slipped away. He was forgetful. But when he tried, really tried to think about it, he could remember what he’d forgotten, or at least find a vague hazy memory because he hadn’t properly looked.

It hadn’t been since highschool that he genuinely had a memory he couldn’t trust, and that’d been because the cloud of weed that followed him around whispered rumors in his ears that he’d made up on his own time.

Anxiety spiking, Pearce began to dig in his desk for an old friend.

…

“Jeez,” Skip said, pinching their nose as they stepped into the kitchen. “Dank up there, isn’t it?”

“Who’s smoking?” Grace asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, still basking in her small victory. Pearce’d had no idea she’d tricked him, and by the look on his face, he’d been just about to surrender right there. Victory was moments away, practically in her grasp. Maybe one or two more accidents, tops, and she didn’t mind trading a couple puddles for triumph.

“Pearce, I think,” Skip said, “There was almost a fog machine under the door.”

Grace began to grin. That could probably be used as proof of her victory even further–it wasn’t against the rules, per say, but getting baked while on caretaker duty was horribly irresponsible. Heck, even if she didn’t press that, it was a sure thing that Pearce would forget something.

But then her grin wavered, as a few thoughts hit her.

There wasn’t a person in the house who didn’t get high occasionally, but Pearce had somewhat a different relationship with pot than the rest of them. It’d very much been a coping tool for him more than just a recreational bit of fun. It’d been difficult to find him sober after turning in a report card, or having to explain why he’d gotten detention this time, or just generally stressed…after a failure.

Shit.

Shit.

His expression a moment prior reframed itself in real time while Grace stood there. She’d meant to push him into defeat, not into a panic attack.

“What’s wrong?” Skip asked. “You look, eh…horrified.”

“I’ll explain later,” Grace said, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the stairs.

She swallowed. There was only one ethical choice of action that she could see, and it made her feel stupid that she’d have to take it. She’d thought her plan through all the way to the end, and never once wondered how it might impact Pearce beyond victory.

That was going to take some self reflecting, later. For now, she had a mess to clean up.

First, she had to dig through her purse. Then, she knocked on Pearce’s door. The smell of old pot was pretty strong–he wasn’t going easy. This wasn’t ‘having fun’, it was trying to fix something.

“Later,” he said immediately.

“I’m coming in,” Grace said. “Sorry.”

She pushed open the door. He hadn’t locked it. A thick haze assaulted her, enough that she’d be hotboxed if she stayed in the room for too long, but she shut the door behind her and crossed the room, tiptoeing over piles of laundry and snack detritus.

Pearce lay on his bed, eyes bloodshot. She extended her hand, offering a wad of cash to him. “Here.”

He glanced up. “What’s that?”

“Fifty dollars,” Grace explained. “I–I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Pearce just looked confused. Grace didn’t wait for him to ask, ‘huh’, or ‘what’, she just pressed on.

“I didn’t leak because you weren’t paying attention,” she explained. “I wasn’t very wet when I got home, I just held it and then kind of…made the leak happen on purpose. It was my fault. Not yours.”

He stared at her, brow furrowed, trying to figure out what she was saying. She wasn’t sure where the confusion lay, but she let him puzzle it out.

Finally, Pearce said, “I didn’t screw it up?”

Grace had expected anger, or disbelief, but all she saw in his face was pure, placid relief. A man offered a stay of execution minutes before the gallows. “Yeah,” she said.

She thought he might cry, his face was such a mask of solace. “Why?”

“I–” Grace started. “Can I sit down?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling up his legs so there was room at the end of the bed. She wiped some crumbs off the sheet and sat, thinking how to explain. “I wanted to trick you, to make you give up by, I guess, forcing mistakes to happen. I was just thinking that you’d give up because it got expensive when I kept leaking, but, like…I didn’t know you’d react this way.”

He stared at the ceiling. “I was gonna, you know.”

“I know,” Grace said, resting a hand on his leg, a little gesture of comfort.

“You could have won,” he said. “I thought it was all me. I believed it. I never would have known.”

“I know,” Grace repeated. “But it wasn’t supposed to hurt you like this. You know I’m not that much of an asshole, right? I’m like… something less intense than an asshole.”

He chuckled. “Butthole.”

The word, out of the blue, made Grace giggle. Maybe it was the sheer density of smoke in the air, too, filtering into her lungs, or the endorphin wave of relief that Pearce wasn’t mad. “Okay, that’s a better word, right. Butthole.”

Pearce laughed again, snorting and sitting up. “Hole in a butt, butt in a hole.”

Grace fell back onto the bed, laughing. She didn’t feel high, but she did feel relief, and that rush was similar in intensity. “I know it’s up to you, but can we order burgers for dinner? I’d kill for a burger right now.”

“Sure, but you have to go downstairs and grab it,” Pearce said, reaching for his phone.

“What, me, the baby?” Grace put a hand on her chest, feigning offense. “I do believe that’s your job.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, but I’m stealing your fries.”

“Get your own fries!”

“They taste better stolen.”

“Really?”

“It’s the crime. Best seasoning there is for fries.”

They both laughed, and Grace scooted to a half seated position, her back against the wall. She eyed his bowl, sitting on his cluttered night stand, smoke still billowing off it like incense. “Ah, screw it. Can I get a hit off that?”

Pearce sat up and shook his head. “No.” Grace frowned, but he added, “Butthole babies don’t get to feed herself, remember?”

“Themselves, would be the word,” she said.

“Butthole babies don’t get to feed herself, themselves,” Pearce repeated, picking up the bowl. He held it up for her, and she had to lean forward, puffing off it in his clumsy fingers. She inhaled too much, coughed for a second, and then the two of them fell into fits of giggling.

After ordering, Pearce opened up Right Round, the popular short-form video app, holding up his phone so Grace could see.

Grace expected to cast a little judgment on his feed, but the algorithm largely seemed to bless him with exclusively funny videos, and before long the two of them were bursting into regular fits of giggles, passing the bowl back and forth, sitting close to one another and sharing the screen like a campfire.

Eventually, food arrived, and Pearce left briefly to go get it. While he was gone, Grace pulled the covers over herself, nestling into his bed like a bird in a nest, all warm and cozy. Pearce returned a moment later with two paper sacks, and when he returned, he pulled the blankets over himself, too, distributing the food. Sitting next to each other, draped in sheets and duvets, he passed her a ridiculously jumbo carton of fries, and produced one for himself, and then stole one from her.

Grace snickered, and took one from his carton. It was delicious, in the way that only greasy food seasoned by the munchies could be.

“See?” Pearce grinned. “Theft. The best seasoning.”

“Salt helps,” Grace snickered, stealing another fry.

The supply of starchy, salty potato seemed endless, but they chowed down on each other’s food, burgers languishing in the bag, watching funny videos and giggling like fiends, snuggled next to each other on Pearce’s bed. Grace had completely lost track of the passage of time, she just shared the moment, enjoying the company until her eyes started to grow heavy and her thoughts so fuzzy that she couldn’t follow the jokes, giggling simply because Pearce was giggling.

The transition to unconsciousness was a gradual one. They moved from sitting cross legged to laying, and then Grace rolled on her side, shut her eyes, giggling just from the sounds.

She wasn’t exactly planning to sleep, but she wasn’t not planning to sleep either, and when it claimed her, she was smiling broadly, her limbs entangled with Pearce.

 

...

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[D503]

Cute! I wonder if there'll be more repercussions than just stolen fries.

[Sarah Penguin]

mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo