The Diaper Bag (Complete)

[Personalias]

Howdy howdy!  Welcome to Bastion, Florida.  You lost, friend? You’ve got that look about you.  Even though tourists don’t have to unfold big ol’ road maps and can just gaze down at their phones to try an’ sus things out, we still find a few stragglers from time to time.

Tryin’ to find Disney?  Maybe go to that Bucs game?  You wouldn’t be here. If you’re here to cheer on the Gators you’ve come too far South.  Can’t be headed to Miami.  No amount of roadwork or detours would have you this far off the interstate.  Or did you come to try some of the local cuisine? Real estate shoppin’? Yer a might young to be a snowbird.  More than a might young.  Maybe you’ve got somewhere to be tonight and just want to kill some time without racking up more credit card debt.

In that case, you’ve come to the right place, I’d say.  Nothing like a small town to people watch and gossip on and on about.  It’s free, anyway.  Here, have a seat.  Nope. Nobody’s gonna mind that we’re hanging around the gazebo. That’s what gazebos are for.  

Not what you expected, is it?  Most people, when they hear “Florida”, they think sunny beaches and palm trees.  Not here, though.  Not in most of Florida, truth be told.  Outside of the heat, most places around here you’d be forgiven for thinking you were in someplace like Ohio. Suburbs and stretches of flat farmland where cows and horses graze as far as the eye can see!  What ain’t that is just more forests, lakes, and swamplands.  Add in all the snowbirds that are constantly coming down here in the winter, and it can be joked that Florida is the most Northern state in the South.

Heard that joke, have ya?  Or maybe it’s just not funny.

Anyhoo..

Bastion’s a pretty big city, though.  Big enough.  Three highschools for a decent football rivalry com Fall.  Two movie theaters- the good one and the cheap one.  Plenty of chain stores; your McDonald’s, your Walmarts, your Starbucks, and what have ya.  

Decent number of Mom and Pop shops too:  Thrift stores; cafes; independent insurance agents.  That and we have the advantage of being just a little over an hour away from Disney and Tampa and Jacksonville and the Gators.  We get access to all the tourist attractions without having to deal with obnoxious tourists most of the time.  

No offense.

We’re in the middle of downtown right now, right on the edge of the Historic District and City Hall.  Most of the buildings are older than you and me combined.  Or at least older than you OR me.  It’s why everything here has that old 1950’s retro look like in that one time traveling movies; all boxy and such.  But this ain’t no Hill Valley, even if you’d be forgiven for thinking such.

Town’s changed a lot over the decades; on the inside, if not the outside. Like you see that one place over there on the corner?  The one with the steep steps and the fancy white columns?  Banner reads “Grand Opening”?

No, that’s not City Hall; too small for that these days.  Not a bank, either, though it was when it was first built in the early 1900’s. What is it, then? That is easily the worst spot for business in town if you ask me.  

Ever since the bank moved, that place has been through more refits than a rich lady who just got stomach staples.  It’s been a Christian youth group site; shame they went out of business.  Was also an improv comedy theater; no great loss there.   Even used to be a nightclub called “Eden”.  I didn’t know till after it’d already closed down that it was some kind of freaky swingers sex club or something.  

Imagine that?  A bonafide freaky deaky sex club. Here.  No wonder that didn’t last.  Most people are either too conservative or just not exciting enough to even dip their toe in such things; regardless of what they might think about when not in Church.

Besides them things, that spot’s been home to at least seven other businesses that either failed or had the sense to move to a better front when space became available. Can’t quite remember what them places were, but you get my point.  When it’s not being rented out, it’s left abandoned and picking up dust for longer than some of the businesses in it managed to run.  Some folks joke that it should be turned into one of those Spirit O’ Halloween stores. You ask me, that place is cursed.

What about now?  Based on the advertisements in the paper, the coffee news, and the radio, it’s gonna be some kinda thrift store..

“Lost Things Found” it’s called.  What else would you expect in a store like that?  Don’t quite see the point of it myself.  Bastion’s already got a Goodwill.  And there’s no windows up front.  Good for an old timey vault, or a theater or a sex club...them places need privacy.   But an old fashioned store?  Not so much. Hard to show what you’re selling with no display windows. Still; place might make for a few good stories, even if it just adds to the list of failed ventures in that spot..

That’s one of the other advantages of living in a place like Bastion.  Plenty of stories.  You get enough space from people that you can watch ‘em and gossip, and you don’t have to feel too bad because you’ll most likely never have to look ‘em in the eye.  Best of both worlds I say.  People can talk and gossip and you know who they’re talkin’ about, but then you don’t have to feel so bad when you end up talking more than two sentences to ‘em.

Take that lanky thing walking on down the street, the one with the ratty pink purse?  Kind of looks like Olive Oyle from those old Popeye cartoons?  That’s Lynn Gilligan. Nice girl from a broken home, but she’s got a couple of screws loose, I say.

She’s too young for me, obviously, but she’s a woman, even if she doesn’t quite look the part.  Some ladies just don’t grow into their own bodies till they’re closer to thirty than twenty.  Nothin’ wrong with that.  The problem with her is she’s either nutty or slutty.  

Why do I say she’s nutty?  It’s that bag of hers.  That’s not a purse, that’s an old diaper bag; filled up too.  Girl don’t have any babies though.  Not even a little brother or sister.  I know, I know, why does she carry a bag full of bottles and baby toys then?

Y’see, when she was still in highschool, Lynn got popular babysitting for folks out at the Country Club.  Rich folks love having children and buying ‘em toys to spoil them with.  Only thing they love more is paying people to watch their children for them so they can go and spoil themselves.

Skinny britches over there on the sidewalk is still sitting and nannying to this day; using the money to help pay for her tuition over at the community college.  I’m not gonna jaw on her about that; that’s just good entrepreneurship right there.  Old fashioned entrepreneurship an’ elbow grease.  Peculiar thing is that ever since that first summer Lynn’s been toting around that old baby bag wherever she goes.  Was probably her diaper bag back when she needed one.  Says she brings it to be prepared for whatever gig she’s got.

That don’t ring true, though, you ask me.  I don’t know about you, but I can’t think of hardly any instance when a body with a toddler wouldn’t already have bottles and diapers and wipes for their own kid.  Seems to me that for Lynn it’s less preparation and more pretense.  What’s she tryin’ to do being ready to swaddle a newborn in the unlikely event that she’s gotta deliver somebody’s babe in the backseat of a car?  I don’t think so.

Some people say a lady carrying around all that baby stuff is looking to get knocked up; got the fever; want a rugrat for themselves. But not me.  Call me old fashioned, but most boys her age see that kind of stuff and they think a little too much about the after effects of doing the deed to want to do it if you catch my drift.  

Nope. I see how she clutches it; more like a security blanket than anything.  Her papa split town when she was just starting Kindergarten, maybe a little before that.  The ol’ went out to get cigarettes save that he wasn’t a smoker.  I suspect something is broken in that girl that can’t quite be fixed.  And her carrying around that bag is just puttin’ a band aid over a much deeper cut.

Oh?  Well look at that.  Speaking about band aids and such, poor thing’s bag just broke.

[Personalias]

“Noooooo!” Lynn’s cries of distress came out high pitched and quiet; a pathetic mumbling carried away by the wind.  The well worn strap, all but threadbare, snapped off her shoulder tumbling onto the downtown sidewalk.  That hadn’t been when she cried out though.  That had only earned a well deserved curse of “Dang it!”  It wasn’t ideal, but she could have just tied the two ends of the strap together with a box-knot, or carry the bag under one arm.

The pathetic “Nooooo!” came out when she lifted the bag up off the pavement and the bottom dropped out.  Diapers, wipes, plastic toys, board books, coloring and art supplies  spilled out like salt through sieve.  Her diaper bag was now officially useless.  Lynn should have expected it considering how overloaded she tended to keep it and how much abuse had put upon it through the years.  She did expect it, in fact.  It’s just that the breakdown in her mind never explicitly happened in when it would be inconvenient.  Thing about breakdowns is they weren’t breakdowns when they were convenient.

This was possibly the worst time.  Lynn had a job in just a little over an hour, Wal-Mart was on a completely different bus route, and she didn’t have enough money on her to buy a replacement bag besides.  She was babysitting Bradley too.  She NEEDED most everything in her bag to deal with Bradley; the kid had the energy of a sugared up ten year old, the body of a two year old, and the attention span of a six month old.  

She NEEDED to be prepared for Bradley.

And now she was being a litter bug!

She had a job in just a couple hours, too.  What was she going to do?  Looking up at the sky in a form of desperate prayer,  Lynn saw the sign hanging from the old Not-Bank.  “Lost Things Found” and “Grand Opening”.  

Huh.  Another new store. It’d be lucky if it made it half-a-year in this spot by the corner, but maybe it was something she could take advantage of in the now.  Maybe she could ask for a garbage bag or something to lug all her supplies in.  A tacky garbage back was better than being unprepared, especially for Bradley.   Her arms overfull with baby supplies, Lynn climbed the steps and walked through the open, heavy wooden door.

It was dark inside.  Pitch black.  The only light was the one from outside.  “Hello?” Lynn called out.  Her voice didn’t echo back, but  that was the only sign that the place wasn’t completely abandoned.

CREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAK!

Lynn felt no gust of wind, heard no footsteps behind her, heard no vacuum or rushing of air.  All the same, the heavy door of the place slammed shut behind her.  “EEEEEEEEP!”  Her various supplies went clattering to the floor.  Completely blind, Lynn went to dash to the door; to push it or pull it  (which way had it been opened?  Lynn hadn’t paid attention) and rush back out into the open air.  In the stillness and darkness, the place seemed more like a tomb than a room.

The girl hadn’t had the time to properly turn around and run screaming when she was struck blind yet again by the sudden flashing of lights from above.

“Ahhh!”  A deer in the headlights, Lynn froze, holding her hands up to her face and blinking away the pain as her pupils undilated themselves.

“Terribly sorry about that,” a new voice said.  A new voice, but not a young voice.  Lynn turned back around to away from the door and into the shop.  Standing in front of her was an elderly, wrinkled man, in a clean white button up shirt.  He was bald on top of his head and was completely clean shaven but had patches of white hair wildly streaking out the sides and back, not unlike a certain politician.

Very much unlike a particular democratic socialist, this old man hunched himself over a cane, and his glasses were so thick they made his eyes seem bigger than his mouth.   The weather wasn’t nearly cold enough to merit the light brown, sweater jacket he had draped over his shoulders, but he stood there with a quiet shaking shiver all the same.

“Still working on getting the lighting fixed,” the old fellow said.  He was a grandpa of sorts, Lynn thought.  Elfish, and good humored.  She might be wrong, but her nose was picking up traces of caramel candy and she could swear it was coming from him.  “You know how these old buildings can be.”

“Y-y-yeah.”  Lynn stuttered.  She took a breath and collected herself.  There was nothing to be afraid of here.  “Yeah.”  The old man smiled.  His mouth was so jowelly and wrinkled, he looked like a kind of friendly dog when he did so.  An old basset hound that had long ago finished hunting and was now content to curl up by the fireplace and softly wag its tail for a pat on the head.

“So…” the elderly shopkeep said.  “How can I help you, young lady?  Is there something I can help you find?”

Her shock over, Lynn remembered why she had stumbled in to begin with.  “Yes, do you have a trash bag I could have?”

The old man adjusted his glasses and looked around the chess patterned floor of the old building.  “Trash bag?” he said.  “I suppose so.  But why?”

“To pick up my-” Lynn stopped and looked to the floor herself.  The bundle of diapers and baby toys and supplies that had gone smattering to the floor when she’d startled were now completely gone.  Vanished from existence.  “Oh…”  That was odd.  “I thought...it’s just.  Never mind.”  She turned around to go and open up the heavy wooden door back out onto the town square. “Thanks anyways, I guess.”

“Maybe I can help you find something…?” The old man piped up just as she reached for the wrought iron handle.  “This is a curio store.  Something for everyone.”

Lynn froze and turned around.  “A curio store…?”  She’d never heard the term before, but was too embarrassed to ask.

The fellow was quick on the uptake. “I’m a collector of sorts.  Many adventures.  Many artifacts.  Many strange discoveries.” He said, his voice gaining a kind of strength.  “I’ve traveled the worlds, discovered many fascinating artifacts lost to the ages.  And after I find them, I look to sell them.”

Lynn stuck out her lip and thought.  “So you’re a treasure hunter?”

“Treasure hunter, explorer, antiquities dealer.”  His blink was slow and his gaze friendly but fierce; like an owl in a children’s book.  “I’ve got a little bit of everything here. Maybe one of those everythings can help you…”

This was stupid, Lynn thought.  No way would an antique store have a diaper bag.  Even if it did, there was no chance he also had diapers or knick knacks for distracting bratty toddlers.  No way.  Still; maybe an old purse would work; she could at least prep for the future.  Diaper bags were almost more expensive than purses in some instances.   Worst he could say was ‘no’.

“I was actually looking to replace my old diaper bag,” Lynn said.  “It kind of broked.”  

The shopkeep adjusted his glasses again and peered at her.  “A little old to still be needing diapers, ain’tcha?”  

Lynn’s face blushed deep crimson.  She’d heard enough jokes whispered behind her back about wanting a baby.  Lots of snickering about putting the cart before getting the horse.  No one had ever gone the other way, before and suggested she might need the contents for herself.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!”  The old man’s laughter was high pitched and cawing like a crow.  “I’m just joshin’ ya, miss.  I’m just joshin’.  A bit of good natured ribbin’ is all.”  On quickly shuffling feet he turned and started around the store.  “Let’s see if we have anything in the baby section for ya.”

‘Store’ felt like a misnomer to Lynn as she followed behind the quick shuffling feet and the sure and steady cane.  The inside of this place seemed more like a museum.  Everything was in displays behind glass cases.   More foreboding to Lynn was the fact that nothing had a price tag.  Much of the items here had a feel of ‘if you have to ask you can’t afford it.’

“What’s an Aztec Chastity Fetish?” Lynn wondered aloud reading the plaque of one. It was a tiny little bauble that vaguely looked like a swaddled up infant.

“Oh you won’t be wanting that,” the shopkeep laughed.  “That one’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

Taking out a ring of keys out of his pocket the shopkeep unlocked another case.  “This though.  This might be more your speed.”  It was a plain looking grey satchel bag, made of rough hewn fabric.  Nice enough.  Rustic in a way.  In good condition.  Lynn wouldn’t have looked twice at it if she’d seen it at Wal-Mart though.  “Think fast!”

With surprising alacrity, the old man reached into the case and lobbed the bag at the young lady.  On reflex, Lynn caught it.  But when she looked down at what she caught, it no longer seemed quite so worn, quite so grey, or quite so rough.  “

”What the?” Now in her hands was a polyester tote bag, light grey on the bottom but aquamarine on the top and all sorts of strange, vaguely Asian looking symbols etched into it in gold; shimmering like stars. The inside was the stiff easy to clean waterproof plastic that didn’t soak anything in.

How did?  What did?  A trick of the light, perhaps?  “What do you think?” the shopkeep asked, his voice full of genuine genial sounding curiosity.

There’s no way she could afford something this nice with what little pocket money she had on her.  “It’s very nice, but-”

“Now close it.”

Lynn looked up from the bag.  “Excuse me.”

“Close it,” the old fellow repeated himself.  “Go on.  See for yourself?”

Lynn closed the bag.  Simple enough.  “Okay…?”

“Now before you open it,” the shopkeep said, “whisper something you’d get from a baby bag like that.  It doesn’t have to be too loud, just loud enough so the bag knows you’re talking to it.  It can be a toy, a diaper, wipes, anything.”

Lynn frowned, thinking this was some kind of trick.  “Anything?”

“Anything?”

“Okay…” Lynn closed her eyes and  whispered, “Target Brand Up & Up diaper, Size two.” Something just specific enough to invalidate whatever trick this might be.  Yet when she opened up the bag, laying there waiting for her was a Target Brand diaper, Size 2.  The blood that had turned her cheeks red rushed in the opposite direction. “What the?!”  She picked the diaper up and shook it open with her free hand.  “How?!  This is exactly..-?”

“Keep going,” the shopkeeper encouraged.  “Don’t just do diapers.”

Lynn closed the bag again and did so.  “Teething ring?” Yup.  “Bottle?”  Yup.  “Sippie cup?”  Yup.  “Plastic keys?”  All colors of the rainbow.  Rational thought was giving away to pure astonishment.  “What is this?!”

That same friendly smile returned, now a little more knowing; a little more mischievous.  “It’s the equivalent of a diaper bag from the Lost City of Shangri-La.  Every baby gets one.  Kids need taking care of for a lot longer in a city where everyone is functionally immortal.”

“How does this even work?!”  Lynn was struggling not to shout like she was on a roller coaster.  It was a miracle, a gosh darn miracle!

Still leaning on his cane, the shopkeep managed a shrug.  “Beats me,” he said.  “I never asked.  I just know that it does work.  Try makin’ something up.  Has gotta be for a kid though.  It’s a baby bag, remember.”

Lynn blinked.  Down at the close bag she whispered, “A pink ball that bounces until somebody catches it.” Then added,  “No choking hazards, please.”   When she opened it, the bag now had a pink rubber ball squishy with inflation.  

Carefully she lifted it out of the bag, and then with much internal pomp and circumstance dropped it on the floor.

BOING!

BOING!

BOING!

The ball bounced.  And bounced.  And bounced.  And bounced.  Eyes like pinballs, they followed the ball as it bounced up and down in perpetuity.  Up and down.  Up and down.  Never gaining any speed or height, but never losing any either.  It was a rose colored spherical metronome.

It was physics breaking.  It was magical.  It was quite literally the perfect baby bag. “I’ve got to have this,” Lynn blurted out.  The moment she said it she regretted it because she knew it to be true.

“Thought you might like it,” the shopkeep said, self-satisfied.  

She didn’t have a cane, but Lynn’s shoulders slumped anyways.  “I can’t possibly af-”

“Ah-ah-ah!” the old fellow interrupted.  “There’s a reason I don’t have price tags.  I’m a practitioner of the age old art of haggling!  I love me a good haggle!  The bag isn’t yours until we agree on a price or until we agree that we can’t come to one.”

“But-!”

“Ah-ah-ah!”  Again she was cut off.  “I’ll start, I’ll start.”  His glasses had started to slide down his nose and he pushed them up.  “Bidding starts at one hundred smackeroos!”

One hundred?  That was a steal for a miracle such as this.  It was also twenty times the amount of money that she had on her.  “I only have-”

“No no no!”  Tufts of wild hair shook furiously.  “Don’t tell me your limit.  That takes the fun out of this.  Low ball me!”

A bit of bile, a sour burp, threatened to explode out of Lynn’s mouth. “Low ball?”  It sounded vaguely sexual.  Meanwhile the pink bouncing ball wasn’t getting any lower.

The fellow must have read between her lines.  He smacked his forehead.  “People today!  Lowball!  Make me a counter offer that’s far too low.  Insult the bag!  Make me lower the price because I want to sell it more than you want to buy it.”

Living her whole life in a corporate retail world and never having been to so much as a flea market, Lynn didn’t miss the point as much as it was a completely foreign.  “But I DO want to buy the bag.  Really badly”

Tiny feet scuffled forward, and a bony finger shot up.  “I know that,” the old man whispered.  “You know that.  The bag knows that.  But the price doesn’t.  So go on.  Make me a counter offer.”

This was ridiculous.  But if it got her the bag… “One dollar,” Lynn said.  “No! Fifty cents!  This bag isn’t that good.”

Like an overacting theater kid, the shopkeep made an exasperated scoff.  “Fifty cents!  You’re trying to rob me, you are!  This bag is one of a kind!  One of a kind!  Try fifty dollars!”

“One of a kind?” Lynn said.  “You told me that every baby in the Lost city of whatever had one of these. I’ll give you two dollars.”

“Oh-ho!” The shopkeep laughed.  “You’re getting the hang of this!”

“Thank you!”

“Welcome!”  They returned to the ritual.  “Fine, it’s one of a kind HERE!  In this city!  Twenty dollars.”

Still out of reach.  Lynn made a show of curling her lip.  “I don’t know if I’m going to get twenty dollars use out of this diaper bag.  It only makes baby stuff!  Three dollars.”

“Ten dollars,” he play spat back.  “It’s magical. Can take care of any baby forever.”

“Four dollars,” Lynn countered.  “Kids grow up.  Nature of my business changes once they don’t need baby stuff.

“Seven dollars,” the shopkeep replied.  “Lasts for ages in Shangri-La.’

She was running out of money.  “Four fifty.  We’re not in Shangri-La.”

“FIVE DOLLARS” he hollered.  “FIVE DOLLARS, A HANDSHAKE, AND A PROMISE TO REFER CUSTOMERS TO ME!”

“DEAL!”  They shook on it.  Lynn gave the strange little man a five dollar bill, and walked out of the now re-opened door with the most miraculous thing she’d ever found.

[kerry]

Such a fun opening and premise!

[Personalias]

“Bradley!  NO!”  Lynn let out a shriek and pivoted  as a poop filled diaper came right at his head. Instead of hitting her in the face, the literal sack of shit splattered against the lower back of her shirt.  

“POOPY! POOPY! POOPY! POOPY!”  The two-year-old shouted in some weird mixture of bawling and laughter as he ran around the room, little bits of brown trotting out beneath him.  “NO NO NO NO NO!”

Likewise, Lynn had equally mixed emotions; those emotions being disgust and anger.  She heard the sick pudding like sound mix with the papery crinkling of the Luvs as she peeled it off her back.  So gross...so gross!

Bradley was what his parents called a “precocious” little boy, and at closer to three than two he had three factors that made it so that his favorite sitter was sorely tempted to double her rates just for the “pleasure” of dealing with him.  

Factor 1: Bradley was very much in his Terrible Twos.  He’d learned the word “No” and used it liberally.  When “No” didn’t work, screaming and tantruming did just fine.  Just because he was tiny and young didn’t mean that big people got to tell him what to do.  Not if you asked him.

Factor 2: Bradley’s parents were incredibly permissive and often tanked the kid up on junk food.  Besides the lack of discipline from the former, the latter made it so that he regularly had stomach problems up to and including extremely irritable bowels.

Factor 3: Bradley had recently figured out how to take off his own diaper.  He’d wear it until it was wet enough or dirty enough so as to be uncomfortable, and then throw it at the tallest person in proximity.  Hence the absolutely vile Luvs that had been peeled and now plopped on the carpet.  In Lynn’s semi-professional opinion that totally meant Bradley should be potty trained, but his parents just wouldn’t put forth the effort. Bradley was still their “little one” and “wasn’t ready”.  “Maybe next year”.

It was all the young lady could do not to scream as she ran down the toddler, scooping him up and plopping him on the changing table so she could wipe him down.  Then she thought about her self and had to do her best not to vomit.  Bradley, for his part, seemed to think it hilarious.  “NO NO NO NO!” he giggled.  

Beneath his changing table, the young woman reached for another Luvs Size 6, and then sighed, wearily.  What would the point even be?  He’d just pee or poop in that one and then rip it right off.  Then, Lynn remembered her new bag.

Bending over to the side, she picked up her newest treasure.  The bag was still empty, but it wouldn’t be for long.  “A diaper that Bradley can’t take off by himself,” she whispered. “Luvs.  Size six.”   Just like in the store, she opened the bag, and laying neatly inside was a single diaper. Luvs. Size 6.  “Here goes nothing.”  She slid the diaper underneath the toddler’s bottom as she had done countless times before, pulled it up between his legs, and then fastened it on.

Bradley looked down at his new diaper, poked at it.  Then shrugged as he toddled off to play.   His sitter was left with cleaning up his mess.  Anger was giving way to nausea.  Changing a dirty diaper was one thing.  Cleaning toddler poop out of carpet (and yourself) was a whole new ballgame; and Lynn wasn’t good at sports.

Fortunately, the worst of it was still contained in the messy diaper.  The rest were little clumps that had dribbled off and were easily requisitioned with more wipes.  Five minutes clean up time, all told.

Five minutes was all the time Bradley needed.  He stopped running around in circles.  Looked down, and then giggled as he sucked his thumb. “PHEE-PHEEEEEEEE…..”  Bradley smiled. Bradley sighed.  Bradley looked down at the tapes of his diaper.

Lynn braced herself.

“NO! NO! NO! NO!  OFF! OFF!”  The tabs wouldn’t budge.  Bradley pulled and pulled, tugged and tugged at the front of his diaper.  “PEE PEE MEANS  AAAAAAAAWFF!”  Even as he fell backwards on his behind and then rolled onto his back in some attempt at leverage, the Luvs would not budge.  “DIAPER OFF!”

“No,” Lynn said quietly.  “Diaper stays on.” It worked!

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!”

A passerby would have thought the child was being given a death sentence. Kids were weird.  “Maybe ask Mommy and Daddy to let you use the potty next time.  Or you can at least ask nicely for a change like a good boy.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”   

The brat was still trying the impossible as she sashayed back into his nursery.  “More,” she said.  “More diapers that Bradley can’t take off.  Luvs. Size six.”  Upon opening the tote bag, Lynn felt it practically inflate.  Stacks and stacks of the special diapers were inside.  Thing was stuffed to the gills; couldn’t hope to fit any more or anything else inside.  

Quickly, the babysitter took the old, non-magically influenced diapers and stuffed them into a large box in the closet.  The new ones-good for at least a couple of days- took their place on the changing table’s shelves.  “Maybe potty training will look better to him after a few days where he can’t strip his Luvs off and chuck ‘em,” she chuckled grimly to herself.

Lynn sniffed.  Something was still off.  The smell of feces and urine yet lingers.  Then she remembered her clothes.  The back of her shirt was still smeared with not-so-fresh poop.  “Ugh!” she almost gagged.  “Gross!”  

What was she going to do?  She didn’t have any spare clothes with her.  She supposed she could borrow some clothes from Bradley’s mother, but both of his parents were decidedly much bigger than her.  A dress would be a circus tent.  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!  Why didn’t she ever think of this eventuality?!  

Now she’d have to stay in soiled clothes or else be caught stealing or indecent.  In bizarre way she wasn’t that different from Bradley.

Idea!

Pulling the magical bag close to her, Lynn whispered “An outfit I can wear.” She sniffed.  “And a discreet  garbage bag for my dirty clothes.”  The bag was full when she opened it, but not stuffed.  The garbage bag was black and folded up on top.  She took it out and unfolded it.  

Perfect!

With extreme care, Lynn took off her disgusting shirt, being careful to tuck her hair back underneath her collar before pulling the whole thing over her head.  Inspecting the shirt, she saw the wet brownish stain on the back, and her upper lip curled up in revulsion.  Gingerly, she patted the back of her jeans and felt a similar wet spot.  “Good thing I asked for a whole outfit,” she said more to herself than anyone else.

With a sigh and a shimmy, she kicked off her shoes and slid dirty jeans off of her and into the waiting garbage bag.  A quick inspection of her panties showed them to be clean; her denim pants thick enough to absorb the second hand diaper stain.  That was something, at least.

The small garbage bag contained the smell of Bradley’s stink marvelously; even sealed like a ziplock so nothing would leak out. The garbage bag on the floor and her old garments taken care of for the moment, Lynn dumped the rest of the magical diaper bag’s contents onto the floor.

The light green t-shirt with a purple and yellow flower stenciled on the chest wasn’t bad.  The purple shorts would do the job.  But the frilly socks and bright pink light up shoes with velcro on the laces were wholly unnecessary.  “I did say ‘outfit’,” Lynn sighed to herself.  She opened the bag and placed the shoes and socks back in it.  

When she put the rest of the outfit on however, Lynn concluded that something was a little off.  The shirt came down to her waist but it was just short enough to where if she moved the wrong way- bent over or raised her hands above her head- she shirt would slide up and she’s flash some skin.

Likewise, her new purpose shorts were a little too short for her personal tastes, stopping just above the knees.  The elastic waistband didn’t make her feel any more secure, and they were oddly baggy; which was odd since short-shorts usually showed off the legs.  The color palette was a bit garish for Lynn’s taste, too.

Looking down at her knees, something else caught Lynn’s attention. Lying in the middle of the floor where the shorts had laid was a Huggies; Size 8. She recognized it from the Disney patterns inlaid on both sides of the diaper.  Thing was, Huggies didn’t make a Size 8.  Lynn picked it up and examined it closely.  It would fit her perfectly...

A moment of realization dawned on the babysitter.  

“Oh yeah!” she laughed to herself.  “It’s a baby bag.  So it can only make stuff for babies.”  It was all so much clearer now.  Her outfit, while very modesty preserving, was still toddlerish at best.  The dimensions of the clothing made a lot more sense to her, now.  The room in the shorts would be much more comfortable if they had to accommodate some poofy padding.  The elastic waistband would make accessing the Luvs that much easier during change time, too.  And Lynn knew from experience how often the tops of diapers peaked out from shorts, so the not-quite long enough shirt would have only revealed the Luvs’ waistband  “I did say a whole outfit…” she repeated to herself.

“Ah well,” she muttered, putting the diaper, shoes, and socks back into the magical bag.  “Um.  Nothing?  Go away.”  She opened the bag again.  The extra baby garments remained there intact.   She closed the bag again. “Vanish,” Lynn commanded.  “Disappear.  Back where you came from!”

Opening the bag revealed zero progress.  Darn it!  She’d made plenty of objects out of the bag before she’d bought it, but the elderly shopkeeper hadn’t said anything about getting rid of them. What was she supposed to do now?

The only logical recourse, actually.  Piling the near hermetically sealed garbage bag on top, she closed the bag shut.  She’d just have to get rid of these things later; that and promise to be more precise with her wording.

“NOOOOO!”  Bradley was still screaming when Lynn returned to the nursery.  Thank goodness he hadn’t accidentally hurt himself or broken anything while he raged.  “Pee-pee!  No pee-pee!  No potty!”  

Lynn rolled her eyes and looked back down at her closed bag.  Bradley already had a diaper he couldn’t take off.  Maybe a pacifier that he couldn’t spit out…?

“MOMMY!”  

Lynn pivoted and saw Bradley’s parents return.  “Bradley!”  The large woman got down on one knee and opened her arms.  Bradley went toddling into the arms, giggling all the way.  As per usual, he was a perfect angel whenever the two adults in his life were watching.

“How was he?”  Bradley’s dad asked.  

Lynn scratched the back of her head.  “He threw one of his diapers again,” she reported tactfully.  “I think he’s about ready to potty train.”

“I don’t think so,” his mother cooed, tickling his tummy.  “He’s wet now, but he seems perfectly comfortable.”  

Wet...but perfectly comfortable...that hit a nerve Lynn hadn’t known existed.  She shuddered a tiny bit. “That’s because…um..”

“Because what?” the father asked.  “Didn’t you have a different outfit when you came over?”  There was no hint of suspicion. No accusation.  “Maybe I just didn’t notice or something.”  No mention that she was basically dressed like one of Bradley’s potty trained peers.

And yet…

Guilt.  Secrecy.  Jealousy.  If she told them about the bag they’d want it for themselves.  Use it to keep Bradley from potty training.  From growing up….

“Because-boys-are-harder-to-potty-train-and-their-behavior-will-fluctuate-over-time,” she blurted out..  “I-read-it-in-a-book-somewhere.” A cold sweat broke out over her brow.  Something deep down inside her did not want to confess to what she’d done; to the magic.  They’d take the magic from her if they knew...take her diaper bag from her.

Her excuse seemed to land.  “That makes sense,” Bradley’s dad laughed.  “My parents almost couldn’t get me into the boy scouts.  Maybe we’ll look into it.”

“Uh-huh…” she agreed.  “Maybe I”ll bring some training pants with me next time.  To help!”  Another lie.  Another nicety.  The mention of training pants wasn’t as important to her as the ‘next time’.  This time was over.

If there was further conversation between the parents, Lynn didn’t absorb any of it.  She just took her money, slid it into the bag, and got out of there and to the nearest bus stop as quickly as her legs would carry her.

“PEE-PEEEEE!  DIAPER OFF!”

But he wouldn’t be able to take that diaper off by himself.  Lynn had made sure of that.  And if, on her way home, she’d been honest with herself, the emotion she was most feeling wasn’t guilt as much as it had been envy of the toddler.

[Brutal_Ink]

This is really interesting so far! It's a great premise, and very well executed; I'm excited to see where the story goes. Although I have  a hunch that there's more to the bag than the old man let on...

[Personalias]

Later that night, Lynn Gilligan sat on the edge of her bed, eyeing the bag nervously.  The dirty clothes-the dirty ADULT clothes- had been put in the washing machine.  In an hour or two, she’d have to switch them out to the dryer; then it would be time to shower, get in a pair of fresh pajamas, go to sleep, and wake up for another day of Community College, and checking to see if she had any new offers for babysitting job.

Except…

Except she still had the extra large, the ADULT sized Huggies- to dispose of; never mind the little girl socks and shoes that were still in the bag.  How strange.  How paradoxical.  The sizing star on it; Size 8.  Big enough to fit her.  If the little pastel star had had a 2 or 3 or a 4...a number that would have popped up on a normal sized diaper; she wouldn’t have thought about it too much.  It would have been an adorable costume piece.

But Size 8?  She unfolded it in her lap and refolded it.  Turned it every which way.  Size 8.  It didn’t exist, but if Huggies really did make a Size 8, it would have fit Lynn perfectly. In a weird way, this could be her diaper.

Her diaper.  Her diaper bag.  Fuck it, her cute little toddler outfit.

No.  That was just silly.  Ridiculous even.  Adorable...atrocious.  Stil...it would be a waste not to see how the diaper had turned out.  Earlier today she’d created a ball that could bounce indefinitely. Not even two hours ago she’d made a stack of magically locked Luvs.  Yet it was a single Huggies that caused her brain to stir with anticipation and longing.

A new angle occurred to her.  She carried her old diaper bag around her most everywhere so she could be a better babysitter.  She could use the magic of this one to help take her to the next level:  See how it felt to be a little girl waddling around in a cute diaper.  Wonder at how it felt went wet and at what point did it need a change?  

The diaper bag made baby items that could be used by her; so wouldn’t it be in everyone’s best interest if she used the magical clothes to develop a kind of empathy for her chief clientele?  See the world through their eyes?

Of course it would!

With that in mind, she slid the diaper bag onto the floor and doffed her pants and panties.  Carefully, she unfolded the impossibly large Huggies and laid it out on the bed.  This was going to be tricky.  She couldn’t conjure a giant adult to help her put the diaper on...could she?  Best not to risk it.  

“Baby powder,” she commanded the bag just as she closed it.  Now, there with the socks and shoes, was a bottle of white lavender scented cornstarch. She emptied the bag and sprinkled some of the sweet smelling stuff on the inside on the inside of the Size 8 Huggies.

Her body trembling, Lynn laid down on top of the diaper and sprinkled some more powder directly on her skin. “Here. We. Go.”   She reached forward and pulled the front up between her spread thighs.

It wasn’t pretty.  There’s a reason her charges didn’t change their own diapers.  Even after she had the front left side neatly tucked in and taped over, it didn’t feel quite right.  When the other side was taped up she stood and looked down.  The diaper still felt a little too loose.  A little saggy despite nothing being um...deposited yet.  “Aim higher on the hips next time,” she told herself.  Thankfully, the two large velcro tabs were easy enough to adjust now that she was standing up.  It only took her a few extra seconds to get it nice and snug around her waist.

“Not bad,” she thought.  “Not bad at all.”  The last minute adjustment made her feel better, too. If she had gotten it all right on the first try, she would have thought the diaper a little too magical.  This though?  This was just right. Like a real baby.

She looked at the frilly socks and shoes and decided to put them on, too.  “Might as well,” she told herself.  Herself, or the bag…

After she was fully dressed, (sort of, she’d chosen to leave the shorts where they’d landed in the hamper), Lynn took a moment to admire herself in her full length bedroom.  A lime green t-shirt with a pastel purple flower on it that barely covered the top of her Huggies, frilly socks that stopped just past her ankles and pink shoes that lit up every time she took a step.  She wasn’t sure which she liked better: The blinking pink lights she kept seeing on her periphery or the papery rustle that she felt and heard with every step.

Both?  Both was good.  Both.

She looked at herself.  It was odd, but she liked her decision not to put the shorts back on over the Huggies.  Even though she wasn’t going to dare to leave her room with this getup on, the shoes and socks made her feel like she was dressed for the day; a baby ready for a night out on the town.

Mickey and Minnie were playing on the front of her diaper between her legs.  She turned around and saw the mouse himself giving another big thumbs up on her behind.  How odd it felt.  It was like underwear, but not.  Like a pad or really thick granny panties.  But not.  Like a towel wrapped around her loins.  But not.

She tried several more movements:  Walking around her room.  Sitting down. Standing up. Laying down. Lifting her legs to the ceiling so she could grasp at her ankles. Even a bit of crawling.  Her mind was marveling with every miniscule movement.  So much different than her big girl panties.  Other than the split second when they were pulled on, her panties felt like a second skin.  The diaper she wore both clung to her but never quite felt like a part of her like panties did; much in the same way that a pillow never quite felt like it was part of the bed.  “So this is what it feels like...”

It was a familiar feeling.  The ghost of a memory.  Far away, but pleasant enough in how it felt.

Speaking of feeling, a new sensation, one from the inside was starting to creep up on Lynn.  How long had it been since she’d peed?  Reflexively, Lynn stood up and went to turn the knob on her bedroom door.  She froze and looked down at herself.  She couldn’t go out looking like this!  Mom would be home any second!

She supposed she could just take the diaper off, go to the potty, then come back and tape it back on.  That’s what velcro tabs were for.  But was it what diapers were for?  Did her charges (besides Bradley) really have a choice when it came to using their diapers?

If she really wanted to know how they felt…

Lynn stared at herself in the mirror, looking and feeling ridiculous.  She tried to force it, tried to somehow push and relax her bladder at the same time, but to no avail.  She’d been too well potty trained.  Maybe if she sat down?  Or squatted?  Maybe laid down?

No.  Something about that didn’t feel right either.  She was thinking about it too much.  Babies; real babies, didn’t think about using their diapers.  They were too preoccupied with other thoughts.  Baby thoughts.  They didn’t think about wetting. They just wet.

Lynn turned away from her mirror and started looking for something to distract her; something to make her think of something beyond the creeping ache in her bladder.  But what? Scrambling for fresh ideas, she looked at her hands.
Her hands!

Babies sucked on their fingers!  Without further debate, Lynn plunged her fingers in her mouth and began sucking on them.  Salty at first, then bland.  Bland...but good.  It was oddly soothing actually; both her oral and kinesthetic senses were occupied; her auditory senses too if she sucked and slurped hard enough.

Lynn didn’t look at her reflection; that would have made it all too real in the worst way, but she did see her shadow.  The way the light cast it on the floor, how short and chubby it looked compared to the real here.  It almost looked like…

It was easy after that to just relax. For the first time since she’d learned to use a toilet, Lynn wet her diaper.  Her hands and tongue and ears and eyes all occupied; gently overwhelming her self-consciousness, Lynn just relaxed her bladder; another bit of sensory stimulation just thrown on the pile.

She barely noticed the warm wetness blossoming between her legs, or how her bladder sang out with relief in equal measure with the spreading squishiness.  She just kept slurping on her fingers and marveling at the myriad of old-is-new sensations filling her brain.

The warm wetness in her diaper (and it was hers now) persisted long after her bladder had given out, and Lynn finally took the time to take her fingers out of her mouth and look down at herself.  She’d done it!  She’d actually done it!  She’d had an accident!  

No. Not quite right.  Babies didn’t have accidents in their diapers.  It’s what their diapers were for.  She’d had a supposed-to!  Cautiously she felt long the inside of her thigh.  Not a trace of wetness; the absorbent core and leakguards had more than done their job, and the firm grip of the velcro had held the diaper securely to her waist, even if it did sag a bit at the bottom.

The babysitter looked up from herself and to the mirror. Oh god.  She really did look just like a baby!  Fingers and lips dripping with saliva, and with a wet diaper.  It wasn’t even that wet.  A less experienced caregiver might not even know Lynn needed changing.  A more experienced (or more jaded) sitter might recognize that she was wet at a glance but decide that Lynn didn’t need changing quite yet; even if being allowed to play in a wet diaper might inhibit her future potty training.

And no wonder all the blogs said this kind of thing might inhibit potty training.  Of course, Lynn had had accidents before.  All kids have accidents.  One of the young lady’s earliest memories was of her accidentally peeing her pants.  The shock, the feeling of wetness eerily trickling down her legs, the forming puddle at her feet. The cold wind bringing a dreadful chill within seconds to everything touched.  Just the absolute feeling of physical insecurity.  It was awful!  

Combine that with the teasing and taunting from the other kids in her Kindergarten class.  It was enough to give a girl a complex!
This though?  It was nice.  Everything was contained.  Everything was neat.  Easy to clean.  It somehow felt cleaner too.  Or if not cleaner, then just more right.  More secure.  

“One more test,” Lynn whispered to herself.  With trembling knees Lynn sat back down on her bed.  And smiled.  It was a little like sitting on a wet bench after a rainstorm, but better.  Even at room temperature the diaper still had some warmth.  Even fully absorbed, there was still a bit of pleasant wetness to her skin.   It was kind of like a sponge bath, she imagined.  A nice warm sponge bath caressing her.

She stood up and felt herself all over.  Wet on the inside, but completely dry on the outside.  And if she were a real baby, the actual sponge bath would happen later.  What else could a diaper change be described as then a type of bath?  A bath where nice cool moist towelettes cleaned you up, and then powder was added to keep you feeling dry and smelling nice.  And then a nice new diaper would be put on you and taped up, all while the person cooed and sang to you; talked to you and told you it was going to be okay.  

And all Lynn would have to do is lay down and let it happen.

Oh God! If she wasn’t careful, Lynn would make her diaper wet in more ways than one.  

But what would be wrong with that?  Squishing lightly she rolled over and crawled to the foot of her bed.  “Pacifier,” she whispered to the closed diaper bag.  “One that I can suck on.”

The diaper bag did not disappoint.  The pink pacifier was out of her bag and in her mouth in a flash, with Lynn crawling back over to her bed so she could set her head to the pillow.  

Carefully, slowly at first, Lynn started to rub the outside of her diaper.  She felt the squish, both within and without while she rubbed herself.  Her eyes popped open just as she planted her feet on the mattress

This...this was too real.  Was she masturbating?  In a diaper?  Just suck.  Suck on the pacifier.  Babies didn’t think.  They just acted.  

So she sucked.   Suck. Suck. Suck.  The rubber nipple felt good between her lips.  The slight resistance that the shield gave only made her want to pucker her lips more.  In a way it was like a kiss; her lips working gently with the rubber.

A low moan could be heard from without, mumbling from behind the pacifier, as her hands started to busy themselves.  Such good feelings.  Such squishy, wonderful, pleasant, natural feelings.

She’d read that it was natural for kids to play with themselves at a young age.  It was just parents freaking out that stopped them and broke them of the habit.  But Lynn had no Mommy here.  So like a good baby...like a naughty baby...she played with herself.
Suck. Suck. Suck.

Suck...and buck.  Suck...and buck.

Faster….slower...faster...slower...Lynn tried her best to tease it out, to picture herself in a crib wit ha wet diaper; a wet diaper...but not one that needed changing.  Nope nope nope.  Not this baby girl.

Faster...faster...faster...her hands developed a mind of their own.  As much as her mind wanted to make this last longer, her body was building up steam and losing patience.  She thrust her hips, instinctually, rubbing herself through the wet padding, pressing herself again and again and again

Until…

“MMMMMMMMMMPH!”  Lynn’s orgasmic scream had been muffled- pacified- by the rubber teat and plastic shield guard in her mouth. The fantasy in her head gave way to postcoital darkness.  Time to stop fantasizing.  Time to dream. Her limbs feeling heavy, and her skin warm and glowing,Lynn GIlligan passed out

[aldl4811]

Loved this last chapter!!

[Sir Stinkypants]

This is very cute! Is it a coincidence that it reminds me so much of Stephen King’s “Needful Things”?

[Personalias]

8 hours ago, Sir Stinkypants said:

This is very cute! Is it a coincidence that it reminds me so much of Stephen King’s “Needful Things”?

It is not a coincidence!  It goes in a very different direction than Needful Things but the style of the opening was a tribute to that particular novel.

[christi]

Well done, thank you for sharing.  ?

[Personalias]

The door to Lynn’s room opened with nary a creek.  Fresh off her late shift at the hospital, Laura Gilligan peeked in, ready to tell her daughter to go to bed.  Turns out she needn’t bothered; poor thing was already passed out.   

Her little girl must’ve been tired:  She’d passed out on top of her covers with the lights on.  Lynn hadn’t even managed to put any kind of pajamas on, instead she lay spread eagle in the bed, still in her…

In her…?

Her flower t-shirt?

Her frilly ankle socks and sneakers?

Her diaper?

Laura opened her mouth to scream; to holler; to ask what the fuck was going on here.  Then she blinked.  She blinked and shook her head. Lynn had probably been so busy playing that she’d just passed out.  That and she probably hadn’t figured out how to take her shoes off.  Velcro or no, those things went on tight.  Good thing Lynn hadn’t, too; when little ones figured out how to take their diapers off, it was a new kind of havoc to deal with.  At least she hadn’t rolled out of bed again.

With tired, yet practiced ease, Laura slipped her daughter’s shoes off; placing them gently on the floor so as not to wake her little girl.  Gently, she checked Lynn’s diaper.  The girl was wet, but not in any danger of leaking.  No hint of brown or smell of anything too nasty.

That decided it.  No point in changing the girl.  Lynn didn’t sleep through diaper changes these days, and putting her in proper pajamas would just disturb her sleep even more.  Besides, Laura was plenty tired too.  Why put the baby to bed a second time?

As if Lynn were one of her patients she rolled the sleeping girl gently over to one side so she could peel back the covers.  Just in case she gave her daughter one last check. Yup.  That diaper would definitely make it through the night. Then she rolled her daughter over and tucked her in; all snug as a bug in a rug.

“Oops,” Laura whispered when she noticed the pink binky laying by Lynn’s head.  Skillfully, she took the pacifier and brushed it lightly against the girl’s cheek.  Lynn turned her head accepted the paci in her mouth as naturally as if she were latching onto her mother’s teat.  A contented hum, almost like purring came out of her while she suckled anew.  

With a final kiss on the forehead, Laura turned out the lights, closed the door behind her, and retired to her own room, mentally counting down the hours until dawn.  Thank whoever invented blackout curtains.

[kerry]

Looks as if the magic is spreading out...

[Sir Stinkypants]

Yes, her mom certainly does seem to be taking her daughter’s regression in stride! It’s as though twenty years were suddenly forgotten... Interesting...

[Personalias]

Like Frankenstein’s Monster rising from the slab, Lynn sat straight up out of bed.  She had been cozy and warm; tucked in even!  But she shouldn’t be!  She’d passed out sprawled on her bed.  She hadn’t been sleeping had she?  

She’d only meant to doze. To nap.  To relish the feeling of... of….of victory...of getting away with something...of being naughty and clever! She’d planned to just rest her eyes. Then she would have hit the shower, cleaned up, ditched the diaper and changed into some clean pajamas before hitting the hay.  Okay, she’d never exactly formulated that plan, but that HAD been the plan, because why wouldn’t it be?  

Common sense dictated that that would have been the plan.  Simple as that.

The sunlight flooding her room and the morning birds chirping outside her window told her that she’d rested her eyes for more than a few minutes.  The diaper was nowhere near as warm as it had been ,but it remained almost as squishy.  Not unpleasant at all.  

It was a wonder that kids like Bradley tried to take their diapers off at all, it was so comfortable.  Truth be told, though, Bradley was more of an outlier among her clientele.  Bradley took his diapers off because he could.  Not anymore though.  Not for a couple of days at least based on the Luvs she’d left on his changing table.  

Crawling out of bed, Lynn pulled the sheets back and checked her mattress with one hand, while squeezing the Huggies Size 8 with the other.  The diaper had held! No leaks!

A strange thought: But why had she woken up under the covers?  Lynn didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Still possessed of a certain morning lethargy, and a twinge of modesty, Lynn picked her discarded shorts off the floor and wriggled them over her hips. Gazing at her reflection, Lynn saw the obvious bulge underneath her shorts. The waistband sneaking out the back did nothing for subtlety, either.  The only thing that would make people think she wasn’t wearing a Huggies was the assumption that people her age didn’t have Huggies that fit them.

The professional sitter shrugged. “I can toss the diaper later,” she said to herself.  Like the tinge of alcohol in a fruity drink, she could only barely taste the lie she’d just told herself. “Got more experimenting to do.”  In its own way, that much was true.  She’d slept in a wet diaper, but she’d yet to eat or drink in one.  What better way to continue to relate to her charges?  

This was going to be the last diaper she wore for a while, so she might as well get the full mileage out of it.

“Time for some coffee.”

Her steps to the kitchen and past her sleeping mother’s room were broken only by the continued crinkle from under her shorts (even if the crinkle was far less crisp than it had been a few hours ago).  

It wasn’t a chore to put some coffee on in the kitchen, or pop some bread in the toaster; more of a routine, really.  Still, it was an annoying routine, like brushing one’s teeth or wiping one’s ass.  

Something about toast didn’t feel right, either.  Too bland.  Not exciting.  Not special enough.  A quick inspection of the freezer showed Lynn what she was really craving.  “Waffles…”  They weren’t as good as the homemade ones that Mom whipped up on special occasions, but a couple minutes in the toaster and they’d hit the spot sure enough.

For some reason, Lynn found herself getting extra cream and sugar for her coffee, too.  Rationally, Lynn knew she needed the coffee to wake up, but her tongue was absolutely craving sweetness.  A more babyish wardrobe required a less refined palette evidently.

Pouring herself a fresh mug, Lynn added in as much cream and sugar as she could before taking a sip.  “Bleh,” she grimaced. Too hot.  Not enough sugar.  Caramel syrup stirred in and some ice to cool it made it better.  Not great.  But good enough.  STILL too much coffee, which was odd.  Lynn normally liked her coffee black.

The waffles popped up, steaming hot and crispy. Just like Pavlov’s dog, Lynn started to drool.  Just as she was plating the waffles, Lynn realized something else: Her bladder still ached, and now that the initial adrenaline rush from awakening in a most unusual manner had dissipated, she needed to relieve herself. Badly. She’d wet and fallen asleep. But she hadn’t wet while asleep.  Her tank was full.

Closing her eyes, Lynn tipped the coffee mug back and drank.  At the same time, she relaxed her bladder, filling the diaper even more.  Cold coffee going in one end, warm pee-pee coming out the other.  And still the diaper held.  It was quickly becoming a bloated sagging thing, but no stray droplets were making their way past the leakguards.  It just took them a little longer to splash around before being absorbed by the core.  

“Good,” she said.  Taking her plate of waffles, Lynn smothered them in butter and syrup and sat down at the kitchen table.  She paused briefly, feeling the wet squelch beneath her. Checking her shorts, she neither saw nor felt any of the telltale signs of a leak; no wet patches or half-moons on the back of her thighs or trickles on the inside of her legs.   

Digging into the waffles, the world blanked out for Lynn as her tongue luxuriated in the breakfasty goodness.  She was a tad over half finished when her stomach started rumbling. The coffee was having another effect, besides waking her up.  

Without breaking her stride, Lynn knew what she had to do.  Might as well get the full experience, she rationalized to herself.  Still forking in bits of waffle, Lynn lifted her seat and began to push, filling the seat of her pants like a natural.  For whatever reason, focusing on her breakfast made it easier to overcome her potty training. Wasn’t that what potty training was, anyway: Learning to prioritize going to the toilet over other, more interesting things?  That’s why toddlers tended to be so hard to potty train.  They had far more interesting things to worry about that going to sit on some dumb chair with a hole in it.

Speaking of chairs, Lynn sat back down on hers the moment she was done pushing, giggling nervously as the mess spread around her backside.  It’s what a real baby would have done. She wiggled her rump a bit, trying to get comfy.  No blowout, it seemed. This diaper was magical in more ways than just size, she deduced.

If a grown-up had checked her, Lynn knew she would have been whisked away and made to lie down to be changed right then and there.  She’d changed kids right on their living room floor or in their cribs for less. Sometimes picking a baby up and taking them to a changing table was just tempting fate (and more cleanup)

Maybe it was the caffeine hitting her brain, or the peculiar feeling of not-quite-leaking, but the little hamsters started to run on the wheel of Lynn’s memory..  Something enough to make Lynn spit the rest of her coffee back into her mug. That’s when Lynn realized.   “Mom…”  Her mother had seen her like this… in her bedroom.  She only vaguely remembered it, like a half awake dream, but she remembered it all the same.  Mom had seen her. Mom had CHECKED her.  Mom had tucked her into bed!

But why?!  The answer didn’t come to Lynn because of her diaper, but because of the rest of her outfit.  Besides the Huggies which were threatening to fall down her hips if she moved the wrong way, she was wearing the same exact shirt and shorts she’d been wearing when Bradley’s parents had come home.  They’d been curious about the outfit, but only passingly so.

They hadn’t seemed all that concerned to see their child’s babysitter in something more suited for a preschooler than a college student.  “Maybe there’s more magic to this than I thought,” she supposed.  “Maybe this makes baby clothes AND makes it seem normal for me to be wearing them.”

In a twisted backwards sort of way, it made sense.  If the magic baby bag only made baby clothes, then the person wearing them must be perceived as a baby...otherwise the clothes wouldn’t be “baby clothes” anymore.  Had Lynn not bought a magical bag that could manufacture such things, she would’ve thought it ridiculous.

But she had...

[aldl4811]

Love the progression!

[Personalias]

Her morning shower had been less than pleasant.  Wearing the diaper and baby clothes had been fun last night and at breakfast, but the playful veil of research and experiencing things from her charge’s point of view had faded the moment her clothes and very full Huggies Size 8 had plopped to the bathroom floor (doubly so where the diaper was involved).   

Diapers were less much fun when you had to change yourself. Plopping down on her poopy bottom and wriggling around in her kitchen chair had only made more work for Lynn to clean up.  Not all of it had stayed near the back.

Lynn was grimacing as hot water and a rough washcloth scrubbed every inch of her skin below the waist and above the knee caps. She no longer felt silly or squishy or messy; no such infantile words to cushion the disgust.  Lynn simply felt unclean.

Even when her children were so disgusting that a simple change wouldn’t do it, Lynn was there with them; plopping them in the tub and telling them it’d be okay after a quick rinse and a fluffy towel.  Just then she was wishing the same for herself; hoping that her mother would burst in and start telling her more of the same.

No such luck.  Mom wouldn’t be up till at least noon the way she slept after a late night.  More independence and agency for less contact and reliance on others; that was the tradeoff with growing up. (A bad trade, at that.)  Now that she was fully grown, she barely saw her mother anymore: They were two people living two very different, very separate lives who just happened to live in the same house.  No more Mommy to kiss boo-boos or tell her daughter everything was going to be alright when she was embarrassed or sad or hurt.  

Just Mom.  
Just Laura.

The water had gone cold by the time Lynn stepped out of the shower.  She stepped over the discarded shit filled mass like it was a landmine. Teeth gritted, she shuffled the wretched thing into the garbage bag she’d smuggled in from the kitchen.  She’d almost tossed in the cute shorts and shirt, but it didn’t seem right to throw away a set of perfectly good clothes.

Dried off, but naked, Lynn dragged the trashbag and clothes back to her bedroom.  She’d dispose of the black Hefty after she was dressed more appropriate.  The purple shorts and shirt went into her hamper.  They’d pass at a glance.

They’d pass.

Lynn opened her dresser drawer and grabbed a pair of panties.  But she didn’t put them on.  The shorts and shirt had passed. For some reason, Mom hadn’t freaked out about the diaper either. Maybe she had though...maybe it was just a quiet freakout. A “we’ll talk about this in the morning” kind of anger. Being a nurse, Mom was in fact good at holding her temper for unruly patients.  Part of triage was addressing the most immediate need before everything else.

That didn’t explain everyone else. Not even the people on the bus had given her anything more than a cursory glance. Maybe the toddler outfit wasn’t babyish enough? They’d just thought she was a raver?  Maybe the popular girls were already wearing short shorts and toddler tops?  Lynn wouldn’t have known.

She looked at the diaper bag still by her bed.  How to test her theory? She’d need two things: A friend who could keep a secret if something went wrong, and a new outfit.

[therende]

The start of a new AB? I can hope, and perhaps Mom/Laura will enjoy the closeness that a little in diapers can bring.

[kirababy]

Very interesting premise, and well done so far, love all of the rationalizations etc. she is using.  Quite realistic.

[Personalias]

“What do you think?” Lynn asked.

Marie adjusted her glasses, stroked her chin, and nodded approvingly.  “Cute. Is it new?”

“Cute?” Lynn echoed.  “That’s it?”  Granted, the outfit WAS cute, but that hadn’t been the reaction Lynn had been expecting from Marie.  

“Yeah,” Marie confirmed. “It’s cute.  Is it new?”

“Very new.”  The denim shortalls hadn’t existed until about half an hour prior to Marie’s arrival.  Dyed pink, it popped against the plain white t-shirt that stopped just above Lynn’s belly button. The sneakers from last night and a new pair of pink frilly ankle socks and matching scrunchies keeping her hair up in pigtails should have it obvious what kind of look she’d been going for.  “Cute” was a word she’d expected (specified to bag, in fact), but it wasn’t the only reaction she’d expected from Marie.

Like a runway model (or a toddler in a pageant), Lynn walked around her kitchen, positive that her friend noticed the crisp crinkling from beneath her clothes and distinctive waddle with which she walked  (how could she not?).  Yet no comment came.  

Marie had several classes at the community college with her.  They’d become study partners and shared notes, the latter was more of a courtesy to Lynn.  Marie took excellent notes. She could almost be a stenographer, her ear and eye for detail was so great.  That meant that either Marie didn’t notice, was being oddly polite...or found nothing out of place worth remarking on.

“What do you think of the snaps?” Lynn asked.  She gestured to the metal snap buttons that ran from the inside of her leg all the way up to her crotch.

Marie pouted out her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes.  “Oh yeah.” She said. “They’re almost the same color as the rest of your outfit.  Very cool so they don’t stand out as much.  Practical too.  Makes it easier.”

“Easier…?”

“To change you.”  Marie might as well have just said that water was wet.  Regarding wetness.  “Why?  Are you hinting that you need to be changed?  You don’t look it, but I can check if you-”

“Marie!” Lynn all but screeched.  “I’m wearing a diaper!”

Her study buddy cocked an eyebrow.  “Yeah. I know.”

A new warmth flooded Lynn’s body, and this time it wasn’t inside the giant Pampers she’d chosen to conjure up. It was all in her cheeks as her face flushed bright red.  Just hearing it said out loud like that made it so much more real!  “You know...I’m wearing a diaper?”

Marie nodded.  Once again water was wet and ice was cold.  “Yeah. Don’t you always?”

Lynn’s mouth made for to go “no”, but her throat wouldn’t cooperate.  No sound.  Just puffed out lips, like a newborn puckering up for a warm bottle. “It’s not what you think,” she started to say. She reached under the kitchen table where she’d stashed her magic purchase.  “See? I went to this store yesterday, the new one downtown- the old bank- and I bought this.”

“That’s good,” Marie replied.  “Your old diaper bag was getting kind of worn out.”

“Yeah,” Lynn explained.  “And this bag is a magical bag from the lost city of Shangri-La or something.  Can take care of a baby, forever.”

“Cool.”  

“And it can make anything you ask it too, as long as it’s...y’know...for a baby.  But the clothes can be bigger and stuff,” Lynn explained just in case she wasn’t crystal clear about where her new outfit had come from.  “So...there’s that.”

Again, Marie said, “Cool.”

Cool?  Cool?!  Lynn was telling Marie that she had an honest to goodness mystical artifact!  And the best she could manage was “Cool”?  This was magic!  Breaking the laws of physics and reality!  That settled it, in Lynn’s mind. The magic of the bag and the items it created really did affect people’s minds.  

It was the only reason she could fathom. “Okay.  Cool.  Thanks.  I needed to check something.” With that she turned around to go back to her bedroom.  Phase one of her experiment had concluded.  Time for phase two:  Would Marie act any differently after Lynn got dressed in big girl clothes.  Would she remember things differently?  Important to know.  

“Wanna go to the duck pond?”

Lynn stopped so suddenly she swore she heard her sneakers skidding like tires on the pavement.  “Duck pond?”

“Yeah.” Marie said.  “Feed the ducks...?  They’ve got a playground too.  I could watch you play if you wanted.”

The diapered girl felt her heart thud through the bib of her shortalls. Was she being offered to be taken out in public?  Where everyone could see her?  Could the magic of the baby bag affect that many people at once?  She dry swallowed.  “Okay,” she rasped.  “Just let me get something to drink.”

“Don’t you normally keep a big bottle of juice in your diaper bag?”  Marie suggested. As soon as the words had come out of Marie’s mouth, Lynn felt a side pocket in the bag inflate; right where a baby bottle might go.   Marie stepped up and opened the side pocket, handing it to Lynn.  “Here you go.”  

Lynn took it in both hands and held it to her mouth.  Again, her lips made the “no” motion, all so she could taste the bottle a fraction of a second sooner.  Still cold and the sweetest orange juice she could remember tasting, it took everything the girl had not to smile and risk some of it dribbling out the corners of her mouth.  Mustn’t do that when she didn’t have her bib on.

So much better than coffee. “Wow…”

“You drink it in my car on the way,” Marie told her.

“Alright.”

Time for more experiments.

[Personalias]

“We’re heeeere.” Marie parked and cut the ignition.  Just beyond the parking lot a tiny little pond, locally known as the Duck Pond, even though Goose Pond might be a better descriptor considering the water fowl present.  On the far right side, farthest away from the street was also a sizable playground.  “Ready?”

Lynn stood up out of the car and stared.  She was not, in fact, ready.  The yonder playground was crawling with tots using the equipment.  “I’m not ready,” she whispered. “Not ready, not ready, not ready.”   

She couldn’t get a closer look at them, lest they get a closer look at her.  Good thing she was wearing a diaper, otherwise the not so tiny spurt of pee that came out of her might have been embarrassing.  “Can we feed the birds?” she asked Marie, timidly. Some of them might have even been kids she sat with and their parents!  

“Do you have any bird food?”

Crud!  Why hadn’t she gotten any bread or anything?  To give herself some more time, she sucked down the second half of her bottle, having finished the first half on the ride over.  Food!  If the bag could make orange juice, it could make other edibles, too.  “Something to feed the ducks,” she said, loud enough for Marie to hear even if it was addressed directly towards the bag.  “Something to feed the ducks…”  If her diaper bag was filling up, it must not have been with something particularly heavy..

She opened the main flap.  She very much doubted that ducks could eat the adult sized Pampers that had manifested inside. “What are you doing?” Marie asked.  “Food usually goes in the side pockets, remember?”

“Oh yeah…” Lynn said.  How was it that her friend knew how to use her diaper bag better than she did?  How was it that Lynn didn’t think to check any of the side pockets?  Diapers, wipes and extra clothes went in the main compartment. Bottles and snacks had their own compartments.  So did tiny toys.  That was babysitting 101.

Those concerns went away, when she pulled out a baggy of cut up grapes.  Great for toddlers and waterfowl alike.  “Perfect!

The geese seemed to think so, too.  As soon as it was out, geese started to crowd around the pair, honking and demanding that they share their juicy bounties.  They fed the birds a handful at a time.  Sometimes the geese would catch one tossed in the air right in their mouths.  Other times they’d snap at each other, getting into squabbles over the bits of morsels.

Marie would toss a few towards the back and the geese would race each other for a chance to peck at the ground.

It made Lynn giggle to see.  At least she wasn’t the only one waddling here. She felt herself letting her guard down; relaxing even, until her bladder started relaxing.

The feeling of the padding warming up made her feel extremely self-conscious.  “No one notices,” Lynn told herself.  “No one notices.  I’m just a girl...with her hair up in pigtails...in shortalls...no one can tell what I’m wearing underneath...no one but me...”

“Why do you keep looking over at the playground?” Marie asked.  “Do you want to go play on it?”

“What?” Lynn asked. “No!”  Once again, like the sting of rum in a pina colada, Lynn could barely taste the lie.  

But Marie could certainly hear it.  She tossed the last fistful of grapes behind her and a few in the pond, sending the flock frenzying into the background. Grabbing Lynn by the wrist, Marie led Lynn away from the shallow pool of water and towards the tangled mazes of metal, wood and sand.  “Come on.  Go play on the playground.  I’ll watch you.”

Lynn didn’t put up much of a fight.  It wouldn’t have been much of an experiment.  And if the magic failed her and she looked crazy, then maybe she wouldn’t be recognized.  Lynn Gilligan, sitter renowned around downtown, would surely never be caught doing so patently childish...not without a kiddo to entertain anyways.

Getting closer, Lynn’s walk started to loosen up, and not because her legs were becoming wobbly with fear.  None of the kids were ones she’d babysat before. Bastion was still a big enough city to have people who didn’t know each other on site.  The next thing she noticed was that in terms of dress, she was the littlest one there.  All the other kids...the kids...all the kids….all the kids swinging on the monkey bars and going down the slides or playing tag looked to be somewhere between five and seven, well past potty training age.  That meant that Lynn was the only one around diapered.

That didn’t stop Marie.  When she felt Lynn start to tense up, she gave Lynn a playful swat on the bum.  “Go on,” she said.  “Go play.  Enjoy yourself.”

Much like saying “No”, Lynn didn’t object, at least not verbally, but she breathlessly mouthed the words, afraid that this fantasy of hers would come crashing down on her ears the moment her sneakers hit mulch.  She needn’t be, she quickly realized.  The kids looked up at her, acknowledged her presence, and then went back to playing their games.  One or two even favored her with a quick little wave.

There was no laughter beyond the giggling soundtrack of the playground.  They didn’t think her strange or silly at all.  They didn’t talk to her, either, but little kids didn’t tend to talk toddlers...not that Lynn thought herself a toddler; she was just trying to.

No red flags were raised by the adults, either.  The ones sitting on benches looked up from their phones and gave passing nods of approval. The ones actively playing with their children didn’t seem terribly bothered, either, beyond having to be conscientious of yet another person playing.  “Do you wanna go play on the swings?” one woman asked her daughter.  “Maybe give this little girl and her Mommy a chance to use the slide?”

“She’s not my Mommy,”  Lynn corrected.  The words were out of her mouth before she’d even thought of it.

“Sorry,” the woman said, looking to Marie in stead of Lynn. “I meant babysitter.”

“We go to school together,” Lynn volunteered, wondering just how far the magic would let her push.

Again, it was Marie was looked to for confirmation.  “It’s true,” Marie said.  No more clarification was asked for or given.  The mother just took her child over to another part of the playground, leaving the slide to the not quite twenty-somethings.

That proved it was magic.  Kids could always be naive.  That many grown-ups willing to play along, and at that level?  No.  The only word for that was “ensorcelled”.  A dumb, giddy smile spread out over Lynn’s face.  She was a kid who’d just been given the keys to the candy store.

“Hold my bag for me?” she asked Marie.

Marie slipped it off Lynn’s shoulder and onto her own.  “Of course. I’ll be waiting for you over by the-”

Lynn didn’t hear her.  She was too busy running, her pigtails whipping behind her as she toddled around in exhilaration.  This was great!  Better than great!  She whooped and screamed and yipped and shouted, just running to each piece of play equipment, touching it as if she were uncertain of it’s reality.

It was like being normal. No, it WAS normal.  It was better than normal, in fact.  It was magical. She had purchased more than just a bottomless bag of supplies.  She’d also purchased a magical disguise, one that would let her play and laugh and no one would think twice.  All she had to do was be willing to wear giant baby underwear.  That was definitely a fair trade.

Having done her gleeful perimeter check, the sometimes-babysitter climbed and crinkled up to the top of the playground’s slide. She felt a slight squish as she sat down, but gave it little thought.  

From atop her perch, she saw a little boy, maybe closer to four than five holding himself, dancing in place and hopping from one foot to another while he begged to go on the monkey bars.  His father wasn’t having any of it, though; taking him by the hand and leading him to the nearby public restroom.  The kid looked back over his shoulder all the way to the bathroom, longing to play even as he held himself.  

As if in quiet mocking response, Lynn felt a twinge in her bladder and let it go, emptying even more into her Pampers before sliding down.  That poor kid had to choose between peeing and playing.  Lynn had no such dilemma forced upon her.  As far as she was concerned, this was more than a fair arrangement for her.

The time went by in a blur. Lynn couldn’t honestly say how long she’d been playing, but it was both a lot longer than the actual children- her stamina being greater- and much shorter than she might have liked.  Actual children came, played with each other or their grown-ups, and then went.  Then more.

Lynn didn’t care.  In this moment, in this world, she had few cares, if any.  She slid down the slide at what felt like maximum speed, flattening herself out like a missile and not carrying that it resulted in a giant “plop” when she hit the ground.   She rode on the mounted ponies, not carrying that the back of her head was dangerously close to the ground each time she rocked back with all her might.  She swung on the swings, chortling with glee she swung so high that the chain would go slack letting her free fall for a moment before jerking back into position.

As for her diaper: Lynn didn’t know how many times she used it.  If she felt the need to go, it would register to her, but then she’d just relax her bladder into the thirsty padding and be on her way back to play.  She didn’t lose count as much as she barely bothered to try.  In a short amount of time the act was as easy and forgettable as swallowing her own saliva.  She didn’t know how many times she used it, but wasn’t that kind of the point?

The only time she halted her own play was when Marie stopped her.  She’d been digging in the sandbox for buried treasure and making sand angels when her friend’s shadow fell over her..  “Here,” Marie said, handing her the baby bottle, now refilled with warm fountain water. “Don’t want you getting dehydrated.”  It was nothing for Lynn to take the bottle and suck the water down.  “That juice must’ve gone right through you,” she remarked, looking at the swollen bulge beneath her shortalls.

It was true.  Her diaper was puffed out and about to pop.  One of the snaps had already opened just from the strain. Earlier today such a comment would have made Lynn want to shrink down into a puddle of nothing.  Lynn didn’t care at present.  She was safe.  Protected.  Carefree.  She couldn’t believe she was getting away with this!

Her cares returned, however briefly, going back down the slide.  It was either the seventeenth or eighteenth trip down, when she landed on her bottom with a squelch instead of a squish or a poof. As she stood up she felt the slightest bit of moisture on the back of her legs and knew it wasn’t sweat.  “About to leak,” she moaned to herself.

That was a bummer. Still, it had been a fair trade.  If she’d held it in, the playtime wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.  Going to the toilet would have severely cut in on her playtime, too. Going to the bathroom to change once instead of trotting off to go potty five or six times? It was a much better trade in Lynn’s mind.

Her gait was completely bowlegged as she walked over to Marie by the water fountain.  “Can I have my bag back?” she asked. “I need to go change.”

“You need a change?” Marie took Lynn’s hand “Okie dokie.”  Not looking back, she led a waddling and toddling Lynn into the Ladies’ Room.  

Lynn sucked in her breath- unwilling more than unable- to see where this was going.  Too much, too fast.  “Okay...that’s fine.  This is fine.  Everything is fine.”  Her own words might have as well been a Moscow Mule.

Marie took her to the handicap stall at the end of the restroom; the big one with its own sink and mirror.  Between the sink at one end and the toilet in the other was a changing station. With no cue or preamble, Marie pulled it down.  “Okay.  Hop up.”

It was here that Lynn decided to put on the brakes.  For one, much as she might look the part, she was still fully capable of caring for herself. For another, she was positive that the mounted changing station wouldn’t hold her weight, skinny as she was.  For yet another, she and Marie were close, but not THAT close.

“Um. I can change my own diaper,” Lynn said. (File that under words she never thought she’d have to say.) Her words were so soft that they didn’t even echo off the tile and concrete walls.  “Thanks.”

Marie took a knee. “It’s cool.  I don’t mind.”  Lynn knew she should have done something when Lynn unpopped the first snap along her inseam.  She should have said “no” or shrieked, or skittered backwards, or smacked her classmate upside her head.  “Ooooh, that is wet.” Marie told her.  You were really close to leaking.  Good thing you came to me when you did. Arms up.”

“Arms up?”

Without warning and lighting quick hands, Marie yanked the unbuttoned shortalls up over Lynn’s head like t-shirt.  Her vision filled with pink denim, Lynn d let out a tiny shriek, one out of surprise and astonishment more than fear.  Two strong hands around her hips, Lynn felt herself jump a little while the hands lifted.  

A fraction of a second later she heard and felt the sopping wet squelch of her diaper on the rough industrial plastic of the changing station. Meekly she wriggled like a caterpillar in its cocoon as those same strong hands, Marie’s hands, guided her back into a lying position.

 “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” Marie told her in hushed, gentle tones.  It was the same kind of thing Lynn had told so many fussy two year olds who were just starting to experience shame.  Lynn didn’t feel any shame, not until she felt her friend rip off the tabs on her Pampers.

“MARIE!”   Her heart was pounding.  She could feel the damp air of the bedroom on her urine soaked privates.  She’d gotten away so far with acting like a baby...but that was bad, right?  People didn’t “get away” with good things, did they?  Would Marie normally have done this for her, or was it the magic of the bag compelling her?

“It’s okay.” Marie told her. “ I’ve changed plenty of diapers before.  You don’t have a monopoly on babysitting, y’know.”  Lynn was about to say more, to argue, to fuss, but then she felt the first cool baby wipe caress her skin.  She felt the baby wipe, and melted, every inch of her body relaxing.

This was happening.  This was happening.  But how? Even as her friend lovingly wiped her down as Lynn had cleaned up so many babies, she could not help listen for the creaking of hinges straining under her full weight and heard nothing . So closely was she listening that she could hear and feel Marie cross the girl’s legs and lift them up to wipe her bottom and ball up the used Pampers.  What she didn’t hear was any groaning from mounted changing station.

“Bottom’s a little red,” Marie commented.  “Can’t tell if it’s the start of a rash or just the heat.”  Lynn’s bottom came down on a fresh and dry Pampers.  More oddly, her feet no longer dangled, but rested comfortably.  Had she shrunk or had the station somehow grown?  “Baby powder?” Marie said.  “Where’s the baby powder.  Ah! There it is!”  Without realizing it, Marie had figured out how to use the bag.

An extra sigh of contentment wafted out of Lynn’s mouth as a cloud of perfumed cornstarch coated her front backside.  Its cool dryness was a balm on her sweaty skin, so good after playing in the sun for so long.  Her knees locked and she tensed up as her friend pulled the fresh diaper up between her thighs.  It felt so different, feeling the diaper get fastened around her waist with hands that weren’t hers.  A new kind of magic.  Speaking of magic, she was immensely thankful that there was a visual barrier- her upended shortalls- between her and her friend’s face.  Magic or not, she didn’t want her friend seeing her exalted expression.

“Okay, hop on down on three. One….two...three!”  Marie guided Lynn off the table, her sneakers landing gently back on the floor.  “There ya go!”

Her shortalls stiff and caked with sand and mulch, they  fought against gravity.  “A little help?” Lynn asked.

“Just a second,” Marie said.  For the first time, Lynn heard a creak as the changing table was stowed back up against the wall.  “Okay. I’ll help.”

Marie helped, just not in the way that Lynn had intended.  The shortalls came away from Lynn’s torso, releasing her arms, but they went UP, not DOWN!  Marie had pulled the shortalls right off of Lynn, leaving the skinny girl in just a short t-shirt and clean diaper.

“MARIE!”  Lynn was beginning to feel like a broken record.  “WHAT THE HECK?!”

Marie was already folding up the short overalls.  “This thing is filthy, it’s bad enough you’ve got all the sand in your hair. Your Mom will kill me if you get much dirtier.”

“Kill you?”

Her friend shrugged.  “Kill one of us, that’s for sure.”  She turned her attention down to the diaper bag.  Before opening it.  “Let’s see if you got a spare outfit in here.  Maybe a light and airy sundress.”

“PINK!” Lynn yelped.

Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, Marie reached in past the adult sized Pampers and drew out a pink sundress, just as described.  “Oh! You remembered.”

“Sure,” Lynn lied.  “I remembered.”  No point in explaining the magic to Marie.  She wouldn’t believe it.

Okay, arms up.”   Lynn obeyed and allowed herself to be redressed, first her top being taken off followed quickly by the new dress.  Her torso felt just as loved as her bottom, with the light airy fabric settled around her shoulders.  “Much better.”

Just like in her room, Lynn went over to the stall’s mirror and.  “Not bad. Not bad at all.”  She gave a little twirl and paused.  “Um...I think something’s wrong.”

“What?”

“I think the dress is a little...short.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  She’d seen more than a flash of puffy padded white when she’d done that twirl. Gingerly, she felt hem of her new dress.  Then went down further and felt the bottom of her diaper.  She didn’t need to lift the dress to do it.

“I think you look cute.” Marie promised.  “That, and it’ll keep you much cooler, while you play.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  

Lynn looked at herself one last time.  “Okay.  Sure.  Let’s keep playing.”

[kirababy]

Wonderful, just wondering how powerful is this bag, and where might one acquire one?

[Babyjustin25]

Looks like Lynn really needs that diaper bag now for herself... Love the story... ❤️❤️❤️

[therende]

Lynn needs a playmate who is similarly attired?

[kerry]

Really enjoying this story. The bag seems to work in much the same way as the one in Posterchina's "The Traveler," and it is such fun! I think that Lynn may never come back from all of this, though. ?

BTW: I can't believe it took me eight chapters to realize the number of cocktail metaphors you are using here. Lynn may well have to think of them as fond memories...

[Personalias]

“Oh my god!” Lynn crooned between mouthfuls of spaghetti.  “That was great!”  She bounced in her chair, feeling only a slight squish as she did so.  This particular diaper had a ways to go before it’d need changing.  “Best! Day! Ever!”

They were back home, in the kitchen. While it took everything for Lynn not to just use her hands and shovel the noodles directly into her face, Marie used a fork and spoon to carefully wind each tangle of spaghetti into an elegant spool before sliding the fork between her lips.   “I’m glad you think so.  I really enjoyed it, too.”

Lynn had trouble believing that, but didn’t care to refute.  How could Marie have enjoyed it when Lynn had done all the playing for herself?  Marie just watched from the sidelines; that and checked her diaper and changed her if she’d needed it. And give her food and drink.  And tell her what a good job she’d been doing.  And talk to the grown-ups so she didn’t have to.  Honestly, it felt like Marie had been doing all the work while Lynn played all day.

First the playground, then a lunch break at McDonald’s. Then playing in the play place!  Then a movie (a cartoon of course), and then back home where Marie cooked spaghetti.  She hadn’t had that much fun since she couldn’t remember when.

Making sure to wipe her fingers on the napkins, Lynn lifted the hem of her sundress..  “You were right about this dress, too.  It’s so cute!  Everybody said so!”  She’d been nervous at first about showing off her diaper, but the magic of the bag had held strong. So she’d been able to bend and tumble and hang upside from the monkey bars with no worries about silly things like modesty.  People who dressed like her typically didn’t have to.

In fact, the only comments about her padding had come from Marie when it was decided Lynn needed a new one.  That was another benefit: much easier to check and change her.

“Don’t thank me,” Marie chuckled.  “It was in your diaper bag.  Either you or your Mommy picked it out.”

Lynn looked at herself.  “Oh yeah…I guess so!”  Due to the magic or common sense (which never mixed well with magic) Marie had yet to figure out the exact nature of the diaper bag and instead just assumed it was well stocked instead of infinitely stocked.  

That was why they’d come home for dinner.  “Only one diaper left,” Marie had said after changing Lynn at the theater.  “Never stay out with just one diaper.”  As a babysitter herself, Lynn had to agree, albeit reluctantly.

Marie finished her pasta and stood up from the table.  “Whelp,” she said.  “This was fun, but I gotta go home and get some rest.  See you tomorrow?”
The young lady in diapers was about to nod when her own brain and sense of responsibility kicked in.  “Sorry,” she said.  “Can’t.  Would love to.  But can’t. I gotta babysit tomorrow. It’s an all day thing, too.”  Her head bowed in disappointment. A great day of play ruined by an upcoming day of work.  “Today was my only day off.”

“No biggie,” Marie said.  “I’ll help.  I’ll sit with you.”

The babysitter’s head went up along with her hopes. “Yeah?  You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.”

Lynn started doing calculations in her head. “Could you give me a ride?”  A car would mean quicker travel time than taking the bus.  That meant she could sleep in.

“Yeah.  Sure. Why not?  I’ll be here.”

With that, the pair hugged, said their goodbyes, and Marie showed herself out the door while Lynn finished licking spaghetti sauce off her plate.  Her mouth rimmed red, she let out a long, loud yawn.  “I must be more tired than I thought,” she said.  “Playing all day will do that to ya, I guess.”

Putting the dishes in the sink, Lynn walked into the living room.  The T.V. was on, but she couldn’t tell from the commercials what channel.  Probably not Nickelodeon or Cartoon Network.   She was about to go to her room and change into some pajamas but stopped as a light cramp rocketed through her.  She clutched her tummy. This morning’s waffles had finally caught up to her.  

Lynn bit her lip.  She really should stop this.  Time to grow up as it were.  But no one was around.  And after today she might not ever have the guts to do this sort of thing again. “Awww, what the heck?”  Might as well binge before she purged.  

There in the middle of the living room floor, Lynn Gilligan bent her knees a bit, closed her eyes and started to grunt.  She exhaled as she felt the first bit exiting into the back of her diaper.  She was a literal Pampers Pusher now.  No doubt about it.  Guiltily and giddily, she grinned as she continued squeezing the mass into the back of her baby pants.  She loved hearing the slight crinkle as the back of her diaper ballooned out to accommodate her mess.  It was even better than the slight his she heard whenever she peed.

“I’m doing it,” she whispered to herself.  “I’m really doing it!”  She was doing it alright.  She was in the middle of the living room floor and pooping.

Just.

Like.

A.

FLSHHHHH.

Her eyes went wide as the bathroom door opened.  “Mommy…”  She’d forgotten.  Mom was home and awake.  That’s why the T.V. was on!  Lynn wanted to run, wanted to full out sprint to her bedroom, but her body wouldn’t cooperate.  She was more than halfway done and her legs and bowels were officially on a kind of autopilot.  Besides, the bathroom was on the way to her bedroom.

Soft footsteps signaled Mom’s approach.  “Hey honey,” Lynn heard.  “You poopin’?”

Beads of cold sweat broke out on Lynn’s forehead.  “Uh-huh.”  She could barely speak, only push the last of the mess into her not-so-underwear.  It wasn’t even pushing by this point; more a matter of gravity and biological momentum dragging the last of it out of her.

Her knees buckled the moment the last of it was out of her, sending her tumbling to the floor, cushioned by her now filled up backside.   “Yikes,”  Mom said.  “That’s gonna make it harder to clean up.  Do you want help?”

With tears starting to form in her eyes, Lynn nodded, but said nothing.  

“Okay,” Mom said, helping her up.  “Let’s go hop in the tubby.  I’ll help.”

The following shower was everything Lynn had been missing in the morning: Nice warm water.  Someone else to do the (literal) dirty work, all while telling her things were going to be okay.  No disparaging comments. Mom was a nurse.  The sweet smelling soap and shampoo felt and smelled so much better when someone else was rubbing it in and rinsing it off.

Lynn quietly sighed a thousand times- all relieved- as her mother rinsed her, washed her, and toweled her off.  She didn’t refuse as she was led back into her room and laid down on the bed.  Mom reached into the diaper bag.  “Last Pamper,” she said, unfolding the massive diaper and slipping it underneath her.  There was plenty of baby powder in the little white bottle.  “Will have to go to the store and get some more.  Maybe Luvs.  Same company.  Less expensive.”  Lynn smiled, meekly.  Next time someone opened the diaper bag, she knew, there’d be more than a few Luvs Size 8’s waiting.

The young lady yawned as she was powdered and diapered, the deep heat of the water having relaxed her muscles to the point of feeling almost drugged. But something was odd.  Not missing.  Just off.  And she couldn’t put her finger on it.  

Was it Mom?  No.  That wasn’t it. Mom was a nurse.  Magic or not, it was unlikely that Lynn was the first adult to be bathed and diapered by Laura Gilligan.   More importantly, Mom was well...Mom.  She’d literally changed Lynn’s stinky pants an uncountable number of times. That wasn’t the weird part.  But what was.

She was still wondering it when Mommy tucked her in and wished her goodnight with a kiss on the forehead. Just as she was about to drift off, it hit her: Where had Mom gotten Lynn’s diaper bag?  She could have sworn it had been left at the kitchen table.

Weird.  

Just not weird enough to keep her from dreamland.