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Baby Bailey Bruhn

Part 1: Prologue

Chapter 1: Into Diapers

Bailey's mother Beth suffered from minor urinary incontinence ever since she'd given birth to Berkley, and complications had arisen. The family had never considered it an issue, as the two girls had grown up knowing their mother's condition. About the time Bailey had started high school, however, she developed diurnal enuresis. This is to say that she wet herself occasionally during the day.

After the first accident when Bailey had been only sixteen years old, she'd told her mother that it was a one-off incident, a total fluke and that it wouldn't happen again. Just two weeks later, however, she'd come home from school with a glistening patch about the size of a tea saucer between the legs of her jeans. Her mother had scolded her severely for this, but had Bailey change out of her clothes before her sister got home from school a few minutes later.

Bailey had tried to explain to her mother that she hadn't wet herself on purpose. She'd been halfway home on the walk from school when she'd been struck with a sudden urge to pee. She'd walked faster, but her bladder seemed to fill faster than she could walk, and soon enough she'd been spurting in second-long bursts. Even as she tried to explain to her mom that she still needed to pee terribly, her mom had said in harsh tones that if she felt like wetting herself, she might as well finish the job. She of course, didn't expect her daughter to actually do it, but that is exactly what happened. Bailey's mother watched in complete disbelief as the glistening patch began to spread at an alarming rate, all the way down to her socks and forming a puddle on the patio.

Over the next several weeks, Bailey had no fewer than ten more accidents. They were mostly minor ones, but every so often, Bailey would completely drench her jeans. Beth, who had always done her daughters' laundry for them, made up her mind to teach Bailey how to do her own laundry. It wasn't as though Bailey's accidents were frequent enough that she needed to constantly change her clothes, so she wasn't making much more of a workload for her mother than usual, but Beth couldn't bear to clean her daughter's urine soaked clothes in addition to changing her own protective underwear. It seemed to Beth that Bailey had much more serious accidents than even she did, and she herself had been incontinent for fourteen years.

Beth, having put it off for what she now realized was far too long, finally broke down and took Bailey to the doctor's office. The doctor made the diagnosis of diurnal enuresis, caused by a combination of stress and urgency. He'd also mentioned something about how the muscles that allowed her to hold in her pee didn't close tightly enough, so it didn't entirely stop the flow of her urine, and resulted in unintended releases. He questioned whether she'd been having nighttime accidents as well, but she shook her head. That was one thing she'd been thankful for; despite all of her daytime wettings, she hadn't wet the bed in living memory. At the end of the appointment, the doctor told them there was little he could do that would guarantee a fix, but that they should try to keep Bailey on a regular bathroom schedule.

Months passed and though Bailey's number of accidents had been reduced greatly, it was taking a toll. In order for her to virtually guarantee she'd make it through a day dry, she'd have to go to the bathroom as soon as she woke up, and try for a few minutes after every hour she was awake. More often than not, she'd sit on the toilet for five minutes and nothing would come out, and when it did, it was usually only a trickle. It was only when the urge hit that her bladder completely emptied, and that urge very rarely happened during a bathroom trip. It was as if her body would wait until her bladder was full to bursting before sending the message up to her brain.

A year after her doctor's visit, Bailey woke up for school, only to remember that it was a Saturday. She dozed off for a couple more hours and when she awoke, it was to her mom standing over her.

"I've got something for you," her mother said, pulling a large, plastic-wrapped package from behind her back. The package was light purple in color, with a prominent purple zigzag line taking up most of the front of the package, barely obscured by a white square with what appeared to be the brand name. Her eyes were blurry with sleep, but she could still make out the words, "Super-Plus" and "Medium."

It took Bailey all of two seconds to register what it was her mom was handing her. She had in fact, seen her mom receive a package in the mail, typically wrapped in un-assuming blank paper, twice a month for as long as she could remember. She knew what they were, but she couldn't understand why her mom was handing them to her. She didn't need them, they were for her mother. She was not incontinent; she had just had a few accidents here and there. Accidents happen, that's what her mom had always told her. But her mom just stood there, and what was more, she was smiling. Surely this was a joke. At first she thought it must be April fool's Day, but then she remembered it was the middle of October.

When Bailey made no sign of taking the package willingly, Beth pressed it into her daughter's lap.

"It's not a punishment, honey. You haven't done anything wrong. I've been thinking it over for months now, and I think this is the best solution," she said, the smile still etched on her face.

"They're really comfortable, just give them a try, and if you're not happy when the package is gone, or if you can get through the next two weeks without an accident, you can stop wearing them, I promise."

"Mom," Bailey began, in a tone she normally used when explaining something simple to one of her less intelligent friends, "I'm almost eighteen, I have school, I have friends. I can't be seen wearing these things, what will people think?"

Beth beamed at her for a minute without saying anything, obviously considering her daughter's arguments.

"Look, Bailey. Can you tell if I'm wearing one right now?" she asked, holding her arms out from her sides.

Bailey eyed her mom scrupulously, only to realize that she couldn't tell if her mom was wearing an adult diaper. There was a slight bulge, yes, but that could easily have been a crease in the fabric. She knew her mom was wearing one, she always did, but she also knew nobody had ever asked my mom if she was wearing one.

"What about Berkley? I can't exactly stake my reputation on her ability to keep this a secret? I mean, you have to remember that time I accidentally wet myself at the mall and when she brought me a change of pants, she shouted the whole way back to the car about how she couldn't believe I'd wet myself again. Everyone in the mall must have heard her!" Bailey argued, crossing her arms tightly.

Bailey's mother smiled again, "Which do you think is more embarrassing? Wetting your pants and having everyone stare, or discreetly wetting a diaper that nobody will ever see. Berkley doesn't even have to know. You can change yourself when and where you need it, you can keep it a secret from your friends and fellow students, and if you run out, I always have plenty handy. Heck, my order comes more frequently than I use them, so I have plenty extras." She patted the package that lay untouched in Bailey's lap.

"This is just one of my extras, it just arrived today."

Bailey looked down at the package and back up at her mom. Her face was beet red, but all she said was, "I guess you're right," before she tore open the package and pulled one of the light purple briefs out. She stood up quickly and swore under her breath as a stream of hot liquid began pouring down her legs. She buried her face in her hands, and though she tried desperately to stop the flow, the carpet under her feet was saturated, as were her pajama bottoms and several objects on the floor nearby the bed.

Beth got up and walked out of the room, muttering something about paper towels, and allowing Bailey time to change. Bailey stripped off her wet pajamas and used the dry parts to wipe herself off. She then unfolded the diaper, laid it down and pulled the font of the diaper up between her legs, frowning to herself and thinking how she'd hoped to be a grandmother by the time she needed diapers again. It took her a minute to get all the straps just right, and when she'd done this, she couldn't even bear to look at herself in the mirror, or even to look down. She was already unhappy, and she hadn't even used the diaper, merely put it on.

By the time her mother got back with a roll of paper towels in hand, Bailey was zipping up her jeans, which she realized revealed a significantly larger bulge than the pants her mom wore. The bulge was much more pronounced, but she was sure nobody would be able to tell, unless they stared at her crotch for too long, which she hoped was something that nobody ever did.

Beth looked her daughter over and decided that her daughter's jeans were just a little too tight, and that a size bigger might be better. Bailey of course, did not object, as she was eager to reduce the odds of discovery, not to mention it had been quite some time since she'd last gone shopping.

On the way out the door, the two of them passed up Berkley, who still seemed to be teetering on the border of sleep. Somehow, though, she had managed to find her way downstairs and had miraculously poured a bowl of cereal and milk without making a mess. Neither of them said anything to her as they headed out the door, or she'd ask questions.

When they got back a little more than an hour later, Bailey had managed to procure half a dozen new pairs of jeans. She took them upstairs to her room, and only then did she notice that her new package of diapers was still lying on her bed, opened. Berkley slept in the room just past hers. There was a good chance she'd have seen it. If Berkley had found out, surely all of her friends would soon know and then the whole school. The rest of the day passed and neither Berkley nor Bailey ever brought up the subject of diapers. When Bailey spoke to her friends over the phone, none of them mentioned anything strange.

By Monday morning, Bailey had convinced herself almost entirely that Berkley must have seriously not seen her diaper supply. When she got up for school, she sped down the hall to use the restroom, brush her teeth, wash her face and brush her hair. It was only when she grabbed the handle that she noticed something odd, the door was locked. The bathroom door had never been locked in their house, even before she'd begun wetting herself frequently. The fact that the door was closed did not bode well.

Bailey had already woken up with an exceptionally full bladder. She did this almost every day, and it seemed to be getting worse all the time. Today, she'd almost leapt out of bed because she'd needed to go so badly. She'd made every effort and taken extra precautions for the past two days so she wouldn't have to wet her diapers. There had already been several close calls and even one minor spurt, which she forgot about after a few minutes, as the diapers had absorbed the wetness so well that she felt dry.

Today was different, however. Today, her bladder was screaming for release and the bathroom door was locked. She hammered on it, but nobody answered. She began shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Every few seconds she would hammer on the door, begging to be let in.

"Berkley? Are you in there? I have to go! I really have to go!" Bailey shouted, one hand pressed firmly between her thighs, cupping her padded crotch uselessly. Still nobody answered the door. Bailey heard a muffled hissing noise and felt sudden warmth spreading between her legs. Simultaneously, the pressure on her bladder lessened and disappeared. She nearly dissolved into tears, knowing that she had been so close to the bathroom and hadn't been able to hold it.

She didn't cry though, as she realized her pants were still dry. The diapers hadn't leaked at all, but had absorbed every last drop of urine she could expel. Admitted, the diaper was now swollen to over twice its initial thickness, but that wouldn't be noticeable in her new, baggy jeans.

No sooner had she turned to go back to her room to change, than she heard a small click. Whoever was in the bathroom had now unlocked the door. She turned and of course, as she'd expected, saw Berkley there. She had a falsely meek smile on her face, as if she was only pretending she was sorry for taking so long.

Bailey nearly slammed her door before she changed. She gave a small thought to putting on one of her regular pairs of cloth panties, but remembering the bulkiness between her legs, she opted for a diaper instead. Besides, she'd promised her mom that she would give them a shot. She then slipped on a pair of her new, extra-baggy jeans and was pleased to see no sign of a bulge.

Bailey wore her diapers to class every day for the next two weeks. The first week, she wet herself once in class and three times on the way home from school, and only remained dry one day that week. The second week, however, she wet herself every day in class, as well as twice on the way home from school. Not all of these were major wettings, but on the days she'd wet in class and on the way home, her diaper had expanded so much that she waddled the rest of the way home.

When the package of diapers had run out, Bailey and her mother sat down in Bailey's room to have a talk. This talk was brief and very too the point. Bailey expressed no interest whatsoever in returning to wearing regular underwear. So far as she could tell, her accidents were getting more frequent. Whether this was as a result of her body becoming less able to hold in her urine, or because she tried less, knowing there would be no real downside to wetting herself, she didn't know.

The subject was then decided; Beth would begin to order Bailey her own packages of diapers, and she would wear them every day. Seeing no problem with this, Bailey emptied out her own underwear drawer and filled it with nearly twenty fresh briefs. She put her old underwear in a much smaller drawer, as they needed less room.

Bailey got the distinct impression that Berkley knew something was up, because nowadays, she no longer asked Bailey if she needed to go to the bathroom before getting in the shower or going in there herself. If Berkley did know, however, she had given no confirmation.

It was another few weeks before Bailey confirmed that Berkley knew of her diapers. Evidently, their mom had let it slip one Saturday morning when Bailey was sleeping in. Berkley had evidently promised not to make Bailey feel uncomfortable about her diapers, and surprisingly, she'd kept to her word.

Chapter 2: Growing Up? Growing down.

"Why do you still wear them?" Berkley asked Bailey one day as they both got ready for school. It was an unusual question, but Bailey had long since gotten over the initial embarrassment of having her younger sister know she still wore diapers at almost eighteen years old.

"I..." began Bailey, taken aback by the question, which had seemingly come out of the air, "I need them, Berkley. You know what happens if I don't. I end up wetting myself."

"You wet yourself anyways, the diapers don't stop that. The diapers just make sure nobody can tell, do you like wearing them or something?" Berkley argued.

"I need them. Be glad that you don't. Think about it, why would anyone want to wear a diaper? They're disgusting, they're unsanitary, and they're embarrassing. I'll be eighteen soon, and I'll still be in diapers. I'll probably have to wear them for the rest of my life, Berkley," Bailey replied, a slight edge to her voice.

The two of them didn't say another word to each other the whole way to school. When they arrived, and split off to go to their separate homerooms, Berkley almost shouted, "Remember to call mom if you need to be changed, Bailey!"

Bailey's face went scarlet. Quite a few people were now staring and a couple of them seemed to be scouting for a bulge under her jeans. One of them may have found one, but she didn't stick around to find out. She ran down the hall and took her seat in homeroom, her face still beet red.

Once again, by the end of the day, Bailey was wearing a thoroughly soggy diaper. She'd wet herself sometime around fifth period, with a little more than two hours left to go before the end of the school day. One of the people who'd been eyeballing her padded crotch in the morning sat beside her in her fifth period class and had looked over at her when a loud hissing noise erupted from her diaper as she began to wet herself.

After class, the boy who'd been watching her intently tried to stop her in the hall and she just pretended not to hear him. In her soggy diaper, it was difficult to maneuver through the clusters of students who lined the hallways as they talked to their friends, but she finally managed to shake the boy off.

The walk home seemed to take a lot longer than usual today. Around the middle of sixth period, she'd begun to feel the urge to use the bathroom again. This time, however, it was not her bladder that was aching, but her bowels. She managed, with little difficulty to make it to the end of class. With nothing to change into, she couldn't very well remove her soggy diaper and go to the bathroom before seventh, in case she needed to pee later. She'd come to rely solely on her diapers for peeing, but now she needed to poop, and that was something she simply would not do in her diapers.

She made it through seventh, but now the need was urgent. It was a thirty minute walk home, but she thought that with some luck, she might make it. She'd never had any problems holding her poop in, and that was something she took pride in, even after she was put back in diapers. Berkley had always been the one that needed to poop three times a day; she'd even had an accident in third grade, during a game of kickball in gym.

Bailey, however, rarely pooped more than once a day. It had, however, been nearly 48 hours since she'd last sat on the toilet at home. This was something that could be remedied easily, however, if she could only get home. She did not want to think what her mom would say if she found out she'd pooped her diaper. Her mom was tolerant enough of her wetting the diapers because she couldn't always control it. Bailey figured it would probably be a screaming match if her mom discovered she'd pooped herself.

She had to get her mind off that line of thought, however. If she worried what her mom would do if she pooped herself, she would almost certainly end up doing it. She had to take her mind off of her bowels. She tried to focus on the weather, the bright, warm weather, or perhaps the new movie that was playing at the theater. No, that wouldn't do. She had to think of something else, something that would take ALL of her attention. At present, her bowels were screaming. She could feel what she imagined as a torpedo-sized piece poking in and out at she strained to retain control.

She looked around, trying to find something to focus on as she walked. Unfortunately, the first thing her eyes fell on was a dog squatting in a patch of grass further down the road. She pressed a hand to her backside, knowing she must not look very conspicuous doing so, but not really caring. She walked a little faster, with every block she passed being another hurdle overcome, another green light.

She turned the corner onto her street, and could see Berkley walking with a couple of her friends just up ahead of her, about half-way between herself and the house. She wanted to try to overtake them, so she could get home before Berkley, but she felt that if she walked any faster, her body would lose what little grip she had over her bowels. Unfortunately, Berkley was already walking slightly faster than her and got home with her friends before Bailey could have hoped to.

When Bailey came in through the front door, she saw Berkley's friends sitting in the living room, but no sign of Berkley.

"Not good!" Bailey thought as her stomach rumbled again and she let out a hiss of gas into her diaper. She stumbled down the hall to the bathroom and groaned loudly when she saw it was closed. She tried the handle, but of course it was locked. She pounded on the door and shouted, "Berkley, get the f**k out!"

There was a pause and then Berkley shouted from the other side of the door, "I'm taking a s**t! You can wait! Besides, you've got a portable toilet, remember?"

"Berkley, I am not joking, get out of the restroom or I'm going to s**t my pants!" Bailey shouted, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot with both hands pressed to her backside now.

There was no response from Berkley for another minute, so Bailey hammered on the door, screaming as loud as she could, "Open the door or I'm going to do it on your bed!" Shortly after she shouted this, Berkley's friends popped around the corner to see the exchange between the two sisters.

"You better not, I'll kill you!" Berkley screamed in response. This was perhaps a bit over-dramatic, but so were her sister's threats. Berkley got off the toilet, having been unable to poop at all in the first place. She'd been constipated for three days now.

At the moment Berkley had shouted, "I'll kill you," however, Bailey had muttered, "Damn it..." as her body rebelled against her. To Bailey, it was perhaps the most embarrassed, yet most relieved she'd ever been. It felt as though she'd just expelled a five-pound rock into the seat of her pants. She patted her butt gingerly with the tips of her fingers and felt the mound of poop that now lay sandwiched between her skin and her already soaked diaper.

One of Berkley's friends was clutching at her own stomach, laughing hard enough that she had tears in her eyes. The other girl was holding her laughter a bit better, but looked appalled.

The lock clicked open, and Berkley made an, "All yours," motion, but Bailey just glared at her, tears in her eyes, and stormed back to her room to get cleaned up. She slammed the door shut and locked it. A second later, Berkley was pounding on the door to be let in.

"Bailey, open up!" she pleaded.

"Why? Because of you, I've just pooped myself for the first time since I got potty trained. Not to mention there were witnesses! This will be all over the school!" Bailey shouted, as she pulled off her jeans and began undoing the tapes. The smell was horrible. When she'd opened the diaper, her nose was met with a mixture of urine and poop.

It took Bailey several minutes to get herself entirely cleaned up. By the time she'd gotten a new diaper on, however, she was feeling much better about herself, and a lot of the initial embarrassment had faded. She was still furious with Berkley, but she would deal with her later. Now she just needed to get rid of her soiled diaper before her mom got home and try to convince Berkley not to tell her.

Both of these problems seemed to be more difficult than they should have been. It was nearly impossible to disguise the smell of the diaper, even after she'd sprayed it with air freshener and put it in a plastic bag, within a plastic bag, within another plastic bag. She could still identify, with no difficulty whatsoever, the smell of a dirty diaper. She eventually decided on stuffing the perfumed and triple-bagged diaper at the bottom of her trash can and home her mom didn't give it much thought.

Berkley seemed just as miffed at Bailey as Bailey was with her. Bailey couldn't understand why, after all, she had not done anything wrong. Berkley, however, just kept pouting whenever Bailey tried to talk to her. Evidently, Berkley had gotten upset at Bailey when she'd yelled at her for not leaving the bathroom.

As far as Berkley was concerned, she hadn't done anything wrong. She had to use the restroom just like Bailey. She'd merely gotten home before her sister, and had been attempting to relieve herself when her sister had demanded she be allowed to go. It wasn't HER fault that Bailey couldn't hold it. Besides, what's the big deal? Bailey IS in diapers after all, it's not like she really NEEDED the bathroom. Bailey would have needed to change herself anyways, she never came home dry.

It was this deep-seated resentment and occasional jealousy that had caused such a rift between them, and which refused to allow Berkley to listen to her sister's pleas not to tell their mother. Bailey pleaded with her for over an hour until they both heard their mom's can pull into the driveway.

"Please, Berkley, please! Don't tell her, I'm sorry, I get it! You had to use the bathroom and I was selfish, now please...don't tell mom," Bailey begged, almost in tears again.

The door swung open and their mom came in, carrying beneath one arm what was unmistakably another package of diapers, as well as what looked to be quite a bit of paperwork in the other hand.

"Hey, girls, how was school today?" she asked, putting the package and stack of papers down on the table and taking off her jacket.

"Mom, I-" Bailey began, but was interrupted at once.

"Bailey s**t her pants," Berkley blurted out, arms folded, looking sour.

There was a stunned silence as their mother processed this piece of info. At first, she just stared at Berkley, as if to ask if she'd heard her correctly. Without breaking eye contact with her mom, Berkley gave the smallest of nods. Beth turned to her oldest daughter with her mouth agape. She didn't look angry, but she looked shocked and in a state of pure disbelief.

"Bailey, come upstairs with me," Beth said, and rounded on Berkley, "Berkley, you stay here." She waved Bailey up the stairs and into her bedroom, which still smelled faintly of poop. She pulled the door shut and locked it, before turning to Bailey with her arms folded.

Bailey's stomach dropped, as she began trying to explain to her mom what had happened. She tried to explain how there was simply no way she could have made it to the toilet, but her mom simply wouldn't listen. As Bailey stammered through the various circumstances that lead to her messy situation, her mom just stared, shaking her head the whole time.

There was a long pause after the end of Bailey's explanation, in which Bailey simply hung her head, and tears started to form in the corners of her eyes.

"I don't want to hear it, Bailey. I am very disappointed in you, do you understand that?"

Bailey nodded and she felt the first tears streak her face. She just wanted her mom to understand; between school and Berkley, she never had the chance to use the bathroom. It astounded her how little consideration her mom gave to what she had to say.

Several minutes passed in silence, during which Bailey's mind was void of thought. She barely recognized her diaper growing damp as urine trickled from her before being soaked up. After what seemed like hours, however, her mom broke the silence.

"Why did this happen, Bailey?" she asked, shaking her head, still apparently in disbelief.

Bailey, who was confused and upset by the events that had taken place since she left the school, shouted, her face screwed up and wet with tears, "I told you! I couldn't help it, it was an accident! It's not like I meant to do it!" Her mom merely shook her head and turned around. She unlocked the door and left the room.

The next day at school, Bailey was much more conscious of the number of people staring at her. There were a lot of people who seemed to be eyeballing her pants, and she didn't like that. Nobody said anything to her face until her very last class of the day, in which a snobby looking girl asked if she needed her diaper changed. Bailey's face went beet red, as she had just finished wetting moments before the girl spoke to her.

Bailey endured another six weeks of near constant snide comments before the school year finally passed. By the end, several of her closest friends, who had defended her at first, began to taunt her after they became targets of ridicule themselves.

Bailey's birthday arrived just two weeks after the end of the school year. She was finally eighteen years old, an adult in the eyes of the law, but she did not feel like it. She had never imagined that she'd be celebrating her eighteenth birthday in diapers.

When she awoke on the morning of her birthday, she sat up and was immediately aware that she'd soaked her diaper. This surprised her because she didn't normally wet at night, or if she did, it was very lightly.

"Brilliant," she thought angrily, "Good job, Bailey, you're acting less like an adult now than you did when you were ten."

She grabbed a fresh diaper and changed out of the soggy one before heading downstairs. She immediately realized that something was wrong. The air smelled of baby powder and sawdust, along with a number of other intermingling smells. She heard her mom talking in the living room, and heard something along the lines of, "She'll be ecstatic, it looks wonderful."

Bailey didn't know for sure, but she got the distinct feeling her mom had either bought or made something for her, and something told her that she would not, in fact, be ecstatic. Cautiously, she tiptoed down the hall and peered into the living room. It took a moment to register what exactly it was that she was looking at. It looked like an over-large changing table. Upon closer inspection, she realized that is exactly what it was. There was a shelf below the table stocked with diapers, wipes, baby powder and anti-rash cream. What's more, there were packages, obviously her birthday presents, stacked on top of it. This thing was obviously meant as a surprise for her.

She sneaked back upstairs, as this was something she was obviously not supposed to have seen yet. The thoughts flooding through her head were confused. She glanced over at the bathroom door. It was closed, and what was more, it had a new doorknob and this one had a key-hole.

"That better not mean..." she thoughts, but was surprised by her mom shouting, "Bailey, honey, come down stairs!"

Bailey went red, as she turned to go downstairs. This day was turning out to be very bad, and it had only just begun. When she got downstairs and entered the living room, she feigned surprise.

"It's your new changing table," her mom blurted out excitedly.

Bailey turned to her mom, and grumbled, "I don't need a changing table, and I can change myself. Changing a soggy diaper is pretty simple, I can do it sitting, standing or laying down, all without making a mess."

Bailey hadn't even finished talking when her mom began to talk over her, "Ah, I know you can change yourself, but I wonder if you should. Besides, messy diapers are a bit more-" her mom began, but was interrupted at once by Bailey.

"Mom! That was one time, a few weeks ago, and it was an accident. It hasn't happen since and I'm not going to do it again," she explained.

"Ah, there's the snag. You will, in fact, be doing it again. From this point on, your diapers will serve as your bathroom," Beth explained, a strangely excited ring in her voice.

"You will find that the bathroom has a new lock on it. I have a key, as does your sister. Do not ask her to open the door for you or to otherwise leave it unlocked, because she will not do it. If I find that she has been helping you, she will be diapered alongside you. Do you have any questions?"

Bailey felt faint, but she tried to calm down. Perhaps this would not be so bad; perhaps she could get through this punishment quickly. When she'd been younger, her mom had never been able to ground her for more than a couple of day, even if she'd threatened a month. This raised a simple question, "How long will I be doing this for?"

Her mom, who seemed not to have given this question any thought when coming up with the punishment, thought for a minute, "Until Christmas."

Bailey's heart sank; Christmas was still six months away.

"Six months? You can't be serious! Mom, I-"

"Seven, then..." her mom shrugged, "It doesn't matter to me."

"Fine, six months," Bailey agreed, wondering how many diaper changes that must be.

"So, let me guess you'll be changing me?" she asked sarcastically.

"When I can't. Berkley will whenever I can't," Beth said, off-hand.

"Mom, no, I'm not letting Berkley change me. She is my little sister!" Bailey protested.

"Why don't you open your presents, honey?" her mom said, completely changing the subject.

Bailey hesitated, staring at her mom suspiciously before grabbing one of the presents of the changing table. She ripped it open, and her face went red. There was an over-sized, white onesie, with pink trim around the arm and leg cuffs, and embroidered with the words, "Mama's Girl" across the chest. She put the package down without a word and grabbed another one. This package contained a number of larger than average pacifiers and baby bottles. She opened the next one, and found a blanket. By the time she'd opened up all of her presents, she seemed to have an entire nursery full of baby stuff, all scaled to her size. She had two different onesies, four pacifiers, four bottles, a rattle, a number of stuffed animals, a blankets and a pair of fuzzy booties. The last present she opened even contained some specially designed diapers, which were pink and had the words, "Baby Girl" stamped on the front and rear.

Part 2: Enter Baby Bailey

Chapter 1: Adaptation

"Get changed," said Bailey's mom as soon as Bailey had opened the last present. Bailey wanted to protest, but knew that if she did, her mom would likely extend the punishment or else make it worse somehow. She grabbed the Mama's Girl Onesie and made to take it upstairs, "Think again, honey. Right here," her mom commanded. Bailey scowled but relented. Her mom at least did her the courtesy of turning around while she changed, but told her that would be a onetime thing.

Bailey felt distinctly baby-ish in the onesie, though she supposed that was the point. No sooner had she finished changing, when Berkley came downstairs. She giggled, with her hands covering her mouth. Her eyes were staring, as if to lock this memory in her mind forever. Bailey hung her head in shame. This was not how she'd imagined her eighteenth birthday party at all.

As soon as Berkley stopped laughing, she looked Bailey in the eyes and said, "I'll be right back, I need to go use the bathroom," and ran upstairs. Bailey didn't even want to follow her up the stairs with her eyes. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, and wake up to find this was all a dream. Then again, if this was a dream, what was her subconscious trying to tell her?

Bailey was told to take the rest of her presents upstairs to her room, with the exception of the changing table, which would be scooted into the corner of the living room. She did this without question; perhaps if she showed how responsible and well-behaved she could be, even while humiliated, her mom would shorten her punishment.

Bailey set all of her new things on her bed and began to open up their packaging. She picked up one of the pacifiers and eyeballed it unenthusiastically. Then, more out of curiosity than anything, she put the rubber end-piece into her mouth and began to suck on it rhythmically. The sensation was not a bad one, but it was strange. She supposed it would have been enjoyable if she had no teeth. Clearly, her mom bought them for her to use, and not to leave lying around or shoved in a drawer somewhere.

She put the blanket on her bed, though it didn't match the rest of her covers. It was a lot softer and yellow, while the rest of her sheets and pillow cases were a dark blue. The blanket was, however, very soft and fairly thick. She thought she might enjoy it in the upcoming fall and winter, even if she did get out of her baby-punishment by then.

She set her bottles and extra pacifiers, as well as her rattle on her nightstand, her booties by the door, her extra onesie in her dresser, and flung all of the stuffed animals onto her bed. Lastly, she put away the special diapers, tucking them away in her regular diaper drawer, off to the side.

When she was finished, she sat down on her bed and sighed, the pacifier still in her mouth. She felt her bladder release itself again, without ever trying to hold it in. She might as well get used to that idea, anyways. She'd been wetting herself for quite a while now, but she always hoped her body would get stronger and she'd be able to get out of diapers. She'd finally resigned herself to the fact that she'd always have to rely on them, as her bladder control had actually gotten worse since it started, rather than better.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she groaned. And to her annoyance, it was Berkley that opened the door.

"Come to gloat, have you?" Bailey asked, not looking at her little sister. Strangely, Berkley didn't immediately reply.

Berkley had paused for a moment before replying, "Not quite." Bailey finally looked over at her sister, who was now standing fairly close.

"I came to see if you needed changed. Mom wanted to teach me how to change your diaper," she added in a smug tone, edged with what Bailey could have sworn sounded like jealousy.

Bailey shifted uncomfortably on her bed. She had just wet herself and would need changing before too long. She never enjoyed sitting in a used diaper longer than she needed to. After a few minutes, the diaper started to cool down, and if she needed to move around a bit, the added bulk got annoying fast. She didn't want to admit it to her sister, but she knew there was no other option.

As soon as Bailey had grabbed a fresh diaper, Berkley snapped to attention, saying, "Oh! That reminds me; mom wanted you to bring all your diapers downstairs, so we can keep them in the cupboard below the changing table. She thinks you might try changing yourself if you keep them in your room."

Bailey went red again, she hadn't even thought of that. Obviously, her mom was going to be one step ahead of her.

"Right," she said, though in her mind she was thinking how cruel of a punishment this was for one single accident. When she'd had her first wetting accident, her mom had seemed so understanding. Perhaps that was only because she could sympathize, having wet herself so often. This was different though, something her mom could never understand, since she had never, to Bailey's knowledge, pooped herself.

Bailey scooped up the majority of her diaper supply, which consisted of nearly a hundred diapers, not including her special, "Baby Girl" diapers. Berkley grabbed the last of them, and headed downstairs. Berkley took a bit longer to maneuver downstairs, despite having less than half the diapers in her arms than Bailey did. They then stacked the diapers neatly inside the open cupboard of the changing station. Her mom then grabbed one of the "Baby Girl" diapers from the stack, shut the door, and using the same key as for the bathroom, locked it tight.

"Up here, honey," her mom said, patting the changing table. Bailey climbed up casually, and her mom cooed, "Such a good girl! Now, let's get that onesie off and see if Baby Bailey needs changed."

Bailey felt so much blood rush to her face, it was a wonder she didn't pass out. Her mom was actually treating her like a baby, as well as making her dress like one! Regardless of how she felt, she laid still as her mom removed her onesie, leaving her lying there in a t-shirt and diaper.

Berkley shouted, "Oh look, Mom, she's soaked!" Bailey thought she sounded a bit too excited about this. She wasn't sure what was up with her sister, but she didn't think letting her little sister change her was such a good idea. Imagine what she might tell her friends. Her friends obviously already knew she was in diapers, heck, her entire school knew!

Bailey's heart seemed to skip a beat when she felt her mom plunge a finger through the leg hole of her diaper, as if to check for wetness.

"This is how you see how wet she is," she began, looking over at Berkley. Sometimes the diaper will look wetter than it really is. If she'd just a little wet, it's usually safe to hold off changing her. If she's soaked, and this time she really is, then you need to change her. Her mom undid the tapes holding her diaper together.

She turned away from Berkley as she felt her mom open the diaper, exposing her personal area to her sister. No sooner had her mom slid the wet diaper out from under her, than she felt a fresh one being slid beneath her.

"You always want to do that part quickly, in case she starts to pee again before you can finish. This way, you can pull up the front," her mom explained, demonstrating as she did.

Her mom lowered the diaper again and she felt a cold, moist something being dragged through her cleft, and a sickly shudder ran down her spine. Obviously, her mom was putting those baby wipes to use.

"Be sure to give her a good wipe-down, especially if she's messy, so she doesn't get a rash," her mom continued, before grabbing the large white bottle nearby. She held it upside down and gave it a couple of quick shakes. White powder poured copiously into the seat of her diaper. This was something new and yet not unpleasant, as Bailey didn't usually powder herself but liked the smell. Her mom finally pulled the diaper back in place and taped it shut.

"And that," she began, "Is how you'll be changing your baby sister. Next time, I'll let you do it, so you can get some practice."

This was too much, diapered though she may be; she was not a baby and wouldn't stand to be called Berkley's baby SISTER, when just a few years back she had been Berkley's baby SITTER! "Mom, I'm NOT a baby!" she screamed, jumping off the table. She was suddenly quite aware that she looked very much like a baby.

"I didn't choose this, you made me wear this stuff! I only need diapers to pee, not to poop, and I certainly do not need pacifiers or bottles or onesies!"

Her mom remained silent throughout Bailey's tirade, but smiled broadly as soon as she'd gone quiet again.

"Babies don't choose to wear diapers, Honey. Babies go wee-wee and do poo-poos in their diapers because they need to," her mom said, and poked Bailey lightly on the nose, and completely ignoring the rest of Bailey's complaints. Bailey, still extremely embarrassed, went back upstairs, wanting nothing more than some peace and quiet, and perhaps to watch a little TV.

A few hours later, Beth called her daughters down for dinner. Bailey arrived downstairs over two minutes before Berkley. When Berkley did arrive, Bailey turned and asked, not even bothering to keep the jealousy out of her voice, "Let me guess, you were using the bathroom?"

Berkley didn't say anything, but blushed a little. Bailey was sure of it; Berkley had definitely blushed this time. Why, though? She couldn't think of why her little sister should be embarrassed about being able to use the bathroom. Heck, Berkley had never even had an accident and never hesitated to hold that over her head. Bailey on the other hand, had a couple when growing up, having once wet herself at the grocery store when she was five and pooped her pants at an amusement park when she was seven, after standing in line for an hour, and had lost it at the top of the first hill, despite it being the smallest roller coaster in the park. Both accidents had been minor though. She'd only let out a trickle when she'd wet herself before she got to the bathroom, and had only let out a potato-wedge sized piece of poop when she'd messed herself.

Just as she began filling her plate, Bailey was dismayed to feel the familiar pressure in her abdomen that meant she'd have to poop soon. She usually only ever pooped once a day, but when she did, it was usually a big load and usually came on strong. She knew she had forty five minutes, maybe an hour tops before she'd have to use her diapers in the most embarrassing way possible.

Dinner went on for another forty minutes, by which point she was getting rather desperate. Evidently her mom and sister hadn't noticed, despite how often she was shifting her weight. Finally, she tried to just push it out, but found this impossible to do while sitting, even though standing would draw attention to it. She was practically bouncing in her chair, but her mom and Berkley never said a word.

Her mom and Berkley both got up to rinse off their plates in the kitchen, and while they were gone, Bailey attempted to stand, so she might at least avoid the embarrassment of having them watch as she pooped herself. No sooner had she gotten to her feet, however, than Berkley slipped back into the room. Bailey tried to walk casually back upstairs, but the pressure was too much. She felt her sphincter relax a bit as she took the first of many steps that would bring her some place private. There was no way she could make it, and she knew it.

Blushing, and fully aware that Berkley was looking, she bent her knees. There was no need for her to push, her body did it for her. Bailey began to fill her diaper for the first time since the accident that got her the baby treatment. She felt the weight in her diaper grow and felt it sag and bulge.

Bailey, trying her hardest not to cry, tried not to look at Berkley. Suddenly, she felt somebody grab her hand and looked up. It was Berkley, and she was leading Bailey over to the changing table.

"Berkley, no, you're not supposed to unless mom is gone," Bailey moaned, feeling the weight shifting in her diaper.

"Mom said I got to change you the next time," Berkley argued. This was true, but Bailey didn't want her sister to change her messy diaper. She didn't even want Berkley to change her wet diapers. Heck, she didn't even want Berkley in the same room as her when she was changing herself.

Bailey gave a tremendous sigh and let Berkley lead her to the living room. She hopped up on the table, trying to avoid sitting in the mess, but failing terribly. She felt it spread against her skin, and thought for a second that it was like sitting in a pile of mashed potatoes.

Berkley helped her out of her onesie and without hesitation, undid the tapes and pulled the diaper open.

"Oh, looks like you made quite a mess, huh? We're going to need a lot of wipes to get baby clean this time," Berkley cooed. Bailey felt a surge of shame and anger, and was tempted to strike at Berkley, but decided not to. Getting into a fist fight while covered in your own poop is probably a bad idea.

Berkley got out a fresh diaper and the container of wipes. She slid the messy diaper out from under Bailey and held her legs up, seemingly with tremendous difficulty, and began wiping off Bailey's backside. Bailey blushed a little, being very self-conscious about her body, and not wanting anyone touching her personal areas but herself. It seemed to take Berkley forever just to clean her butt off. Berkley let Bailey's legs down, grabbed another wipe and ran it briskly through her cleft. The same, unpleasant shiver ran down her spine. Berkley then placed a fresh diaper beneath her sister, grabbed the baby powder and applied just as much powder as their mom had, before taping the diaper shut.

"Thanks," said Bailey, who had to admit that Berkley had been more professional about it than she would have otherwise thought. In fact, she felt less embarrassed after Berkley had changed her than when her mom had changed her.

"Anytime, sis," Berkley replied, visibly blushing. There was an awkward silence, as the two of them seemed to be in deep thought. She turned abruptly and left the room, and Bailey thought she caught a glimpse of something white, when her sister's shirt had fluttered briefly.

Bailey climbed off the table, still unsure of what she had seen. She was worn out, however, from all the emotional issues she'd gone through that day, and headed upstairs. Perhaps now she'd be able to watch some TV, or perhaps play some video games.

Chapter 2: Through Berkley's Eyes

Berkley stood outside of her sister's room just minutes after Bailey had taken her diapers and baby things upstairs. She took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in," she heard her sister groan. She opened the door and looked across the room at her sister.

"Come to gloat, have you?" Bailey asked, averting her eyes.

Berkley paused, her heart beating quickly, but her face remained cool and collected, "Not quite," she replied a moment later, hoping her sister hadn't noticed her hesitation. She took a few steps closer, hoping to get a better drawer, which still lay open, their cargo of diapers still exposed.

She'd just taken her eyes off the drawer when she saw Bailey look over at her.

"I came to see if you needed changed. Mom wanted to teach me how to change your diaper," she said nervously, perhaps putting a little too much emphasis on the word, "your."

She saw her sister shift uncomfortably. Was she wet? Berkley couldn't tell, but it wouldn't be the first time. She'd watched jealously every time her mom had brought a new package of diapers up to Bailey's room. It was a moment before she realized Bailey had already made to grab a fresh diaper from the drawer.

"Oh! That reminds me; mom wanted you to bring all your diapers downstairs, so we can keep them in the cupboard below the changing table. She thinks you might try changing yourself if you keep them in your room."

Bailey muttered, "Right," and grabbed almost three-quarters of the diapers out of the drawer, before heading out the door and downstairs. Berkley didn't hesitate, as soon as she heard her sister's feet hit the tile floor at the bottom of the stairs, she grabbed a single diaper from the pile and ran back to her room where she stuffed it in her pillow case before heading back to Bailey's room to bring the rest of the diapers downstairs.

Once downstairs, Berkley watched with interest as her mom explained the proper way to change a diaper. This wasn't particularly necessary, as she'd read enough stories online to know how to do it.

"Oh, look, Mom! She's soaked!" she shouted, as her sister's slightly yellow diaper was exposed. Her mom went through the motions, explaining the various details of diaper changing, though Berkley knew them all. She inhaled deeply as the room filled with the smell of baby powder.

Berkley didn't stick around for the entire argument between Bailey and their mom that followed. Instead, she slipped back upstairs and locked the door to her room. She reached one hand into her pillowcase and felt the diaper she'd snuck away from Bailey's supply. Even though she'd longed to be back in diapers since she was nine, and a friend had shown her some funny pictures on the internet, this was the first one she'd ever had in her possession.

She wasted no time in kicking off her own jeans, while her mom and sister bickered back and forth downstairs. She stripped off her underwear and unfolded the diaper on her bed. Shaking with excitement, she laid herself down on top of the diaper and pulled the front up between her legs. She'd stood up and walked around the room. She never imagined that the diaper would feel so bulky. This was a good thing, she thought; it made it more real to her. It took her a few minutes to stop waddling. She imagined after the diapers were wet, her heart skipped a beat at the thought of wet diapers, it would be impossible not to waddle in these.

Berkley listened intently as her sister stormed up the stairs and slammed her door. She could just hear the lock click into place. She pulled her jeans back on, hoping the diaper wouldn't be too noticeable beneath her jeans. It was hard to walk properly with both jeans and a diaper on. She pulled up at the waistband of the diaper, so as to pull the rest of the diaper closer to her skin and make it slightly easier to walk. This worked, but it left the brim of the diaper poking absurdly out of the top of her jeans.

She struggled to find some other way of keeping the diaper on, but being able to walk properly, but was unable. She simply changed her shirt to one that was slightly baggier, which covered the exposed brim and looked at herself in the mirror. Even she couldn't tell she was wearing a diaper.

A few hours passed, and though she'd felt the need to pee, Berkley resisted. Instead, she went down the hall, unlocked the bathroom door, and done her business on the toilet, somewhat disappointedly. She heard her mother call them down for supper and listened as her sister's footsteps passed by. She taped the diaper in place again before pulling her jeans back up. It took her a minute or so to get things just right, so that she didn't waddle, and when she'd finished up, she went downstairs.

"Let me guess, you were using the bathroom?" she heard Bailey ask sarcastically as she went to sit down. She felt herself blush a little, but hoped Bailey didn't notice. She thought, suddenly, of all the accidents she'd watched her sister have. In particular, she remembered the ones where they were little kids. Her earliest memory, for example, was of Bailey wetting herself in the grocery story. She guessed she must have been four, almost five by then. Then, a couple of years later, she'd been sitting with her mom when her sister had gotten off a ride at an amusement park, and announced that she needed to go to the bathroom, trying to hide that she had already gone.

Then, there were all the times in the past few years where she'd watched her sister wet herself, and how she'd longed for the same treatment. Diapers were simple, diapers were safe, diapers made her sister special. She'd always hoped that one day she'd wake up and find that she'd wet her bed, and that her mom would in turn offer her diapers, just as she had Bailey. She'd even tried forcing herself to wet the bed a couple of years ago, but couldn't bring herself to do it. There were any number of plots and schemes she'd come up with to get diapered, but had put absolutely none of them into effect.

As supper went by, with little to no conversation, she noticed Bailey starting to squirm. At first, she just thought her sister needed to pee, but the squirming continued for quite a while. As she very well knew, Bailey was incapable of holding her pee for this long.

"Does she need to poop?" Berkley thought to herself. She didn't stare at Bailey, as her mom had asked her not to embarrass her sister, but she could hardly help it. If wet diapers excited Berkley, then messy diapers made her ecstatic. To think that her sister, her role-model, was about to mess herself was just about the most exciting thing she could imagine, unless it was her that was messing herself.

Her mom and her got up at the same time to go rinse their plates off. Once they were in the kitchen, however, her mom took the plate from her and told her to check on Bailey. She went back around the corner into the dining room just in time to see Bailey look up at her with watery eyes and bend her knees. There was an indistinct sound, kind of a gurgling crackle, and a moment later the air was filled with the undeniable scent of a messy diaper.

She saw Bailey look down in shame, and before she knew what she was doing, she had taken hold of her sister's hand and was pulling her towards the living room, towards the changing table.

"Berkley, no, you're not supposed to unless mom is gone," Bailey protested. She seemed to wince with every step she took, as if walking was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Mom said I got to change you the next time," Berkley argued, hoping she didn't sound too eager. She was in fact, incredibly eager to change her sister's diaper. She'd read an infinite number of stories online of people who wet themselves, sometimes on purpose, sometimes on accident, and eventually had a messing accident. She'd always hoped her sister would eventually mess herself, but had, until a couple of weeks ago, been denied this exciting event.

When her sister had begun pounding on the door, begging to be allowed to poop, she'd wondered if she should just leave her sister waiting. Even though she'd decided to let her sister in, she'd apparently waited too long to decide, and her sister had messed herself anyways. Berkley had never intended for her sister's reputation in school to be flushed down the crapper as it had been. She admired her sister, and wanted more than anything to be put in diapers too, if only to show her sister how much she adored her.

Bailey finally stopped resisting and sat up on the changing table. She'd obviously wanted to avoid putting all her weight on the mound in her diaper, but had been unsuccessful. She lay down quietly as Berkley helped her out of her onesie. Immediately, Berkley undid the tapes, and without hesitation, opened the diaper. The smell wasn't entirely unpleasant to her, though it was distinctly more potent than the smell of her own poop, or maybe it just seemed so, because she was used to the smell of her own.

She quickly, but carefully, wiped down her sister, and even ran a wipe along her sister's cleft, though clearly neither she nor Bailey enjoyed this maneuver. She then placed another diaper, this time a plain white one, beneath her sister's butt, shook the bottle of baby powder a few times over the opened diaper and taped it in place.

"Thanks," Bailey had said. Clearly she had no idea that Berkley wasn't doing this because their mom had asked her to.

"Anytime, sis," she replied, hoping to convey at least some sense of understanding to her sister. She knew Bailey resented her and thought she was only doing this to embarrass her, but that was simply not so. She turned quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly, as her shirt had fluttered a bit, and went back upstairs to her room.

Her heart pounded quickly, both from excitement at having just changed her sister for the first time ever, and embarrassment at the prospect that her sister might have just seen what she was wearing. What would she do if her sister found out she'd taken one of her diapers? How would she explain herself? She didn't need diapers like Bailey or their mom; she had no reason to be wearing one except for her own feelings of security and self-satisfaction.

Berkley heard her sister coming up the stairs a minute later and wondered if she was going to come talk to her. Her heard beat loudly in her chest as she heard Bailey's footsteps come up the stairs and start down the hall. Luckily, her sister seemed not to have noticed, as her footsteps turned aside into her own room.

Bailey sighed with relief as she locked her door and turned on her computer, where she began, once again, browsing the sites that she had kept secret from her mom and sister for years. She browsed the countless stories and re-read some of her old favorites before turning off her computer several hours later, laying down, and falling asleep with her diaper still on.

Part 3: The Shift

Chapter 1: Submission

Bailey woke up the next day with her bladder throbbing painfully. This was very common, but unlike usual, she made no effort to get to the bathroom. Instead, she relaxed what little control she had over her bladder and felt the warm gush of liquid flood her diaper. She was embarrassed, yes, but more because she knew she wouldn't be the one changing it than because she'd wet herself. Heck, she wet herself almost every day as it was, and that was never going to change. She'd just gotten used to changing herself in private, which was out of the question for the next six months.

She heard her mom walking around downstairs, but knew she probably wouldn't be too thrilled about being asked to change her so early in the morning. It was hardly light outside, and her mom was probably just getting around to drinking her first cup of coffee. Bailey never liked sitting in a wet diaper any longer than she had to. Normally she'd wet herself, then change immediately, just as a person who'd accidentally wet their pants would do. It didn't matter to her that this might mean more diaper changes in the long run; her family seemed to have an endless supply of diapers.

Despite Bailey's dislike of sitting overlong in a wet diaper, it was not unheard of. Since she'd begun wearing diapers again a few years ago, there had been multiple times she'd wet herself, either out with friends or even while she sat in class, where immediate changes were impossible. This was especially troublesome at school, as she never brought an extra change with her, and would have to wait until she got home to change. Her mom had always wondered why she never brought a change, but Bailey couldn't quite explain her paranoia that one of her friends would open her bag to borrow a sheet of paper from a notebook and ask why she was carrying an adult diaper in her bag.

Bailey rolled over and felt what little of the liquid that hadn't yet been absorbed by the diaper trickle towards the back, and slowly disappear. She giggles to herself, as the sensation tickled slightly. She wondered if she'd ever truly get used to wearing a diaper. She supposed not, it had been several years already, and she still longed for the security that came with being able to decide when to go to the bathroom.

It was weird, she thought as she lay there in the early morning light, before her accidents had started so suddenly and so frequently, she'd always had such a strong bladder. She could hold it in for hours after the first need hit. Perhaps she'd damaged her bladder control muscles in some fundamental way by holding it for too long. She remembered vaguely when she was eleven, having gone several hours without a restroom trip, despite her bladder aching terribly. This had been because she was at a friend's birthday party, and was simply having too much fun to be bothered. As soon as her mom had picked her up, however, they'd needed to stop at a gas station so she could relieve herself.

Bailey nodded off again, despite her soggy diaper. She awoke a few hours later to find her mom standing over her.

"Looks like Baby could use a change," she said, and pushed the tip of one finger in between her skin and the diaper.

"Yup, that is one wet diaper!" her mom cooed, and tugged her out of bed. Bailey followed her downstairs, where she saw Berkley sitting, still half asleep on the couch, with a bowl of oatmeal in her lap.

She hopped up on the changing table and undid the buttons of her onesie, so her mom could remove the diaper without actually having her remove the onesie. She was a little embarrassed about how swollen the diaper was, but couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't exactly control how much she wet. Sometimes her bladder would throb painfully and yet only a trickle would come out, and others it would hardly throb at all and she'd flood her diapers so quickly and thoroughly that she was surprised she'd never had a major leak.

Bailey remained perfectly still as her mom changed her this time, which earned her a, "You're such a good baby!" comment from her mom, before producing a pacifier from somewhere and popping it into her daughter's mouth. After the initial unexpectedness had passed, she began to suck at the pacifier absentmindedly. It wasn't unbearable, being babied like this, though it was embarrassing as all Hell. She missed her friends more than anything, many of whom she hadn't spoken to since they abandoned her after news had spread about her diapers.

When her mom had refastened the buttons at the bottom of the onesie, and Bailey had sat back up, she realized Berkley had been watching them with polite interest, though she still seemed groggy. Bailey's eyes darted to her sister's waist, where last night she'd been so sure she'd seen the brim of a diaper. There was no bulge now, so either Berkley had taken it off, or her eyes had been playing tricks on her.

A few hours passed, which Bailey mostly spent lounging around the house, taking her pacifier out of her mouth, examining it closely, and popping it back in, and trying to convince Berkley to play a board game with her. Normally, she'd be spending this time watching TV in her room or playing some of her favorite video games, but her mom was doing something in her room and had forbidden her from coming upstairs until she was done. Bailey got the distinct feeling that whatever her mom was up to wasn't going to make things better for her.

At about three o' clock, Bailey's body was telling her that she'd need to poop before too long, and she groaned audibly at the thought. Once again, she refused to just go, even though she knew she'd have to soon. She hated the feeling of messing herself, and wanted to put it off for as long as she could.

About half an hour later, Berkley left to go hang out with her friends, evidently not wanting to stick around the house on such a beautiful day. Bailey envied her this, and wished she could go out too, but she didn't want anybody to see her like this. She hoped she wouldn't be stuck, cooped up in the house for six months straight.

Bailey's bowels were groaning now, and she hoped her mom would be finished in her bedroom soon. She'd been up there for at least three hours, and there were few things Bailey could think of that should take so long, especially in such a small room. She pressed a hand to her stomach, which was gurgling loudly every thirty seconds or so. Without even realizing it, she'd begun rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet.

Bailey could feel gas building inside her, which she reluctantly let out in loud bursts. She knew she couldn't hold out much longer, as her skin was now damp with the strain of holding it in. She groaned every time she felt her need intensify momentarily and she had to strain herself to keep it in.

After almost an hour of holding it in, she could no longer hold back the assault on her willpower, and she felt a warm, solid weight filling the back of her diaper, followed by the now familiar smell of poop mixed with baby powder. She blushed furiously, even though nobody could see her. She didn't feel like crying this time, because it wasn't exactly a new experience. Though this was only the third time she'd messed herself in the last few weeks, last night had brought the sensation home well enough.

Bailey waddled uncomfortably to the foot of the stairs leading up to her bedroom and listened. She could hear her mom moving something heavy around up there. Earlier, she was sure she'd heard her mom hitting something with a hammer. She was curious, but more interested in getting her diaper changed. She could tolerate lying in bed in a wet diaper, but wandering around the house in a diaper than bulged with its contents was disgusting. She could feel some of it clinging to her skin, while most of it sagged in a lump between her thighs.

She took the pacifier out of her mouth, so she could speak properly. She'd completely forgotten she still had it in her mouth, and had been sucking on it since before Berkley had left.

"Mom," she called in humbled tones up the stairs. There was no answer, but she thought she heard the sound of movement halt momentarily.

"Mom!" she said, a bit louder this time.

"Yes, honey?" her mom's voice came, rolling down the stairs.

"I, um...I need changed," Bailey said, embarrassed, as one hand found its way to the seat of her diaper and lightly patted the bulge contained there.

"Berkley will have to, I'm a little busy right now," her mom replied, followed by another loud thud, which sounded like she might have lifted Bailey's bed frame and dropped it.

"Berkley's not here, Mom," she began, "I think she went to go hang out with her friends." Bailey felt an agitated twinge at this. It was Berkley and her friends that were the reason her own friends had abandoned her. They'd gone and blabbed to the whole school that Bailey wore diapers and had pooped herself. Even if Berkley hadn't said anything, which Bailey had no way of knowing, it had been her fault she'd pooped herself in the first place.

Her mom remained silent for a moment. There was a soft grinding noise coming from upstairs and then, "Well, I'll be down in a little while, honey. I should be done in," there was a pause and a couple of soft thuds, "half an hour, maybe an hour."

Bailey groaned, thinking, "An hour! I might have to stay like this for an hour!" The thought almost made her sick.

"But mom!" she began, "I'm...not just wet," she finished, reluctantly. She knew she was messy and her mom would have known the second she got within ten feet of her, she just didn't like saying it out loud.

"You went poo-poo, honey?" her mom asked, casually, though Bailey got the distinct feeling she was trying to embarrass her.

"Yes," Bailey replied, simply yet firmly.

"What was that, honey?" Her mom asked, a distinct edge to her voice now.

"Yes, I went poo-poo..." Bailey said, blushing scarlet. The weight in her diaper suddenly seemed a million times more embarrassing. Was her mom going to expect her to start talking like a baby too? Maybe she was expected to become more like a baby as her punishment went on?

"Well, I can try to hurry up, up here, but it'll still be a while, twenty minutes at least, forty at most," her mom responded, in her usual tone, as if she hadn't just made Bailey talk like a baby.

Bailey went back to the living room and turned on the TV. Normally, she didn't like watching this TV, because it was an older type. The one in her room was a flat-screen, which her mom had bought for her last Christmas, and had been pretty much the only good thing she'd gotten. This one, however, had a glass screen, and always seemed to have a glare.

Bailey tried to avoid sitting, but after a few minutes of standing, with her diaper sagging pathetically between her legs, she sat down. She winced as the thought of sitting in a pile of warm mashed potatoes filled her brain again. The feeling became much less noticeable after she'd remained sitting for a few minutes. She supposed her brain must be ignoring the sensation, the same way that it ignored a wound that occurred hours ago, though it may have been extremely painful for the first few minutes, or the way it ignored a bad smell, if left in the environment for too long.

That last part seemed also to have happened, because she wasn't consciously aware of the bad smell she was sure must linger around her, though if she inhaled deeply enough, she still got a whiff of it. She just tried not to breathe in too deeply, and tried to keep her body as still as possible, lest the uncomfortable sensation return.

For the next half an hour, she watched the TV, though as usual, there was nothing really of interest. There had to have been at least three different court shows on, and at least a couple of shows where couples were arguing over whether the man was the father of their baby.

At long last, Bailey's mom came downstairs. As soon as she entered the room, she pinched her nose and remarked, "Somebody made a poo-poo in their diapee!" She swept across the room and pulled Bailey to her feet.

Immediately, Bailey's mind seemed to remember that there was something warm and squishy in her diaper. She could feel it sticking to her butt and her inner thighs, and she nearly threw up from the thought. It wasn't really helping that the contents had lost some of their warmth. If possible, she thought she liked the feeling of a lukewarm diaper less than a freshly messed one. Bailey's thoughts paused momentarily, and then she thought, "If I'm going to start deciding what kind of messes I like more than others, I know my mom's getting to me."

Bailey hopped up onto the changing table, where she undid the buttons of the onesie once again while her mom got out the fresh diaper, wipes and powder. The smell that filled the air when her mom opened her diaper was acrid, but not much worse than it had been when still contained. She sighed contentedly as her mom removed the uncomfortable waste, and she thought for a brief second, that she knew how a real baby must feel when being changed.

Her mom put her in one of the "Baby Girl" diapers, and took the onesie all the way off, "to let you breathe a bit," she'd said to Bailey. She folded it up and sat it on the table.

Bailey knew what her mom meant at once. Though her legs and arms had remained uncovered, as the onesie she'd been wearing was the type that snapped between the legs, and had no legs or sleeves itself, her chest and back were drenched in sweat. It was the middle of the summer, after all, and the onesie was worn over her regular shirt, almost like a sweatshirt. It was even made of the same, thick material.

Bailey began to stretch out on the sofa to watch some more TV, when her mom tapped her on the shoulder.

"Don't you want to see your room?" she asked, smiling.

Bailey, who had nearly forgotten why she'd spent so much time downstairs, hopped to her feet. She climbed up the stairs, eager, yet somewhat nervous about what her mom had done.

Bailey looked into her room and stood there, stunned for a full minute. There was simply too much to take in, it was like a sensory overload. The wallpaper now had cartoon duck and rabbit patterns, the carper was now pale pink, instead of the old green, and there was a mobile hanging over her crib. Bailey did a double-take. This thing couldn't possibly be a crib; it was big enough for a grown man to sleep in! It was even bigger than her old, twin-sized bed had been. She saw her old mattress folded in half and stuffed in her otherwise empty closet. Evidently, her mom was putting the finishing touches on what was sure to be a very embarrassing punishment.

Chapter 2: Berkley's Escape

Berkley awoke and smiled as she pressed her legs together and felt the resistance of the thick diaper there. She'd had pleasant dreams, though they were vague and more than a little hazy. Not for the first time, she'd dreamed of wetting herself, and felt excitedly the diaper, half expecting to find that she'd wet the bed. She was dry, however, and jokingly cursed the stories she'd been reading before going to bed, wherein the main character always wet the bed after having dreams of anything involving water.

She heard her mom stirring downstairs, evidently enjoying her first cup of coffee. She looked over at the clock, saw it was still quite early, and laid her head back down on the pillow. She nearly dozed off again, but couldn't. It had been her bladder that had woke her up. She swore under her breath, wishing that just once, her bladder would just go ahead and empty itself, allowing her to get a bit more sleep, and to enjoy the sensation of waking up in a wet bed.

Berkley had always hoped that she'd wet the bed, and left with no alternative, her mom would put her in diapers like her sister. She envied her sister greatly for her diapers and the attention her mom gave her because of them. Berkley had always looked up to Bailey, idolized her, almost. When Bailey had been put in diapers again, that feeling only strengthened despite how hard Berkley tried to hide it.

Berkley had never really wanted to be potty trained. Unlike Bailey, who could only remember back to age four, Berkley could remember back to age three, at about the time she was potty trained. She had vague memories of wetting the pull-ups that her mom would put on her, and remembered how her mom had, in soft tones, reprimanded her for not saying she needed to go. She remembered the feelings of shame that came whenever she'd wet her pull-up when they were out. Despite her mom's pleas and frustration, she never really made the effort.

It was Bailey that had finally convinced her to use the potty like a big kid. Bailey had taunted Berkley because she was nearly four years old and still went to the bathroom in her pants. Filled with shame, Berkley had tried harder than ever and after a few months, had finally mastered the toilet. She had, from that point on, envied anyone she knew, or saw was still in diapers or pull-ups.

Berkley had known a girl who wet the bed growing up. Though she secretly envied this girl, she'd made fun of her and called her a baby. She still felt bad about having done this, although it happened over a decade ago. The girl, after all, didn't want to wet the bed. Berkley, on the other hand, wanted to go back to diapers for daytime and night time use. Unfortunately, her body developed well enough that she never had a single accident after she'd mastered the toilet, which was something her mom was proud of her for.

Sure, over the last couple of years, she'd staged a few accidents when she was home alone or someplace secluded, if only to recall the feeling. It wasn't the same as a diaper though. She had to be extra secret when wetting her pants, or people would see, people would know. Diapers, though still secret, were passively so. You didn't need to sneak in diapers, people simply never saw them unless you were an idiot and flashed them at people.

Back in the present, she yawned and ran her thumbs through the waistband of the diaper. She tried to pee, even just a little bit, to see what it was like, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her bladder, curse it, was simply too well trained.

Defeated, Berkley climbed out of bed, undid the tapes of the diaper and rolled it up. She stuffed it, once again, in her pillow case. She then opened her drawer, let out a heavy sigh, and took out a pair of her cotton, ‘boy short' panties. She put them on, put on a pair of blue jeans, and grabbed the bathroom key.

Still quite groggy, she slumped down the hall to the bathroom, jammed the key in the lock, twisted it, pulled it back out, and let herself in. She unbuttoned her jeans, slid her panties down to her knees and sat on the toilet. As her stream of urine began to taper off, she heard her sister begin to stir in her room. She finished up, wiped herself, washed her hands and went downstairs.

She saw that her mom had made oatmeal for breakfast and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard. As she was doing this, her mom went upstairs. Berkley thought nothing of this, it was part of Bailey's Baby treatment; their mom would wake her up and check her diaper every day. Sure enough, as soon as Berkley had sat down on the couch and let out a tremendous yawn, Beth and Bailey came stomping down the stairs, with the latter in a very soggy looking diaper. Berkley estimated that the diaper, which was designed for all-day wear, must have been nearing capacity. She'd always been awed by how much Bailey could pee.

She sat and watched as their mom changed Bailey. She didn't really register the change, not being fully awake, but tried not to blush when she saw Bailey look over at her. By the time Bailey was changed, Berkley had finished eating her bowl of cereal, and had taken it to the kitchen to wash it.

Berkley's drive to be diapered was reaching critical mass. It was one thing to simply know she couldn't have diapers. It was another, quite another thing to know that the two people she lived with both had diapers, wore and used them, while envying her for not needing them. They didn't seem to understand that she did need them, but she needed them for her own peace of mind, and not for her bladder or bowels.

"Although," she thought, "that would be nice, too."

While Bailey was distracted, evidently examining her pacifier, as if it were some sort of marvelous creation, Berkley bolted back upstairs. Her mom met her near the top of the stairs, flailing her arms. She'd evidently thought Berkley was Bailey, and was trying to stop her from coming up the stairs. When she saw it was Berkley, however, she stepped aside and let Berkley enter her room.

She locked the door shut behind her and quickly took off her jeans and panties, unceremoniously throwing the latter into the corner of the room. She grabbed the rolled-up diaper out of the pillow case, and re-diapered herself. She sighed contentedly as she felt the bulkiness between her legs again. She then pulled her jeans back on and clicked the door open again.

Once downstairs, she slipped out the front door before she could risk Bailey seeing her padded posterior. She hopped on her bike, grinning slightly at the slightly odd feeling of riding a bike in a diaper. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she knew she meant to use her diaper if she could. She longed to know what it felt like, but she didn't dare ask Bailey or her mom. It's such an odd question, there'd be no way to ask it without essentially slapping an, "I want to try it," sign on her forehead.

Unfortunately for Berkley, she had the complete opposite digestive processes as her sister. While Bailey needed to pee relentlessly, but only needed to poop once a day, Berkley needed to poop a few times a day, but only had to pee once or twice.

Berkley realized this flaw in her plan, only after she remembered she'd already peed when she woke up. That had been the whole reason, more or less, that she'd taken off her diaper in the first place. There was, however, a pressure building in her abdomen. Berkley wasn't sure she wanted to mess herself, especially before she'd ever even had the chance to pee the diaper. That didn't stop her from proceeding with her plan, though. One way or another, she planned on using this diaper before she went home.

It didn't take long before Berkley was getting desperate. She had no way of knowing, though, that at that exact moment, back at her house, her sister was just as desperate for the same kind of relief. She pulled her bike up in front of a strip mall and chained her bike up in front of one of them. She winced as her stomach gave a spasm. She didn't lose control, but just barely managed to keep it together.

She threw the doors open and ran down the absurdly long hallway that she knew led to the bathrooms. She had no intention of using one of the toilets, but the stalls would offer some privacy for the deed. Even as she ran, she could feel her body trying to force her to let go, to let her body do what must be done.

She barely made it. She hadn't gotten into the stall, but she was at least in the bathroom before she lost control. There was a long, quivering grumble, which transitioned into a liquid gurgle as she lost control.

"Oh my," came a voice, much to the surprise of Berkley, who was still in the midst of her first real accident.

Berkley couldn't look up, her knees were bent and one hand was on her thigh, while the other arm bent over her stomach. The mess seemed to be semi-solid, very unlike the mess she'd just cleaned off of Bailey the previous night, which had merely been a solid mass, squashed flat. The last bits of her mess, however, were almost entirely liquid, which came out in burning spurts. She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there soiling herself, but she absentmindedly felt the seat of her diaper, and felt a massive bulge there.

At last, she looked up and saw a young woman. Obviously, it had to be a woman, this was the women's restroom after all, but why was she here? Berkley came to this restroom at least twice a week, as her favorite restaurant was located in the strip mall, but the restroom was so out of the way, she had never seen anybody in there.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked. Her eyes were wide, and she held her hands over her mouth in a shocked expression, though Berkley noted that the index finger of each hand was clamped tightly over each nostril.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm alright, I just," Berkley began, knowing there was no way of lying about what she just did. Heck, every sense gave away her deed.

The woman could see she'd pooped her pants, which housed an obvious diaper. She could smell it without a doubt, and it was so potent that she could probably taste it in the back of her throat. The noise at the time had been alarmingly loud, and if she were to run her hand lightly over the bulge, she would feel the bulge as clearly as she could see it.

"Had an accident?" the woman asked, her hands still pressed to her face.

"Y-Yeah, I had an accident," Berkley replied, her voice on the edge of breaking. She shifted her weight slightly and felt the diaper sag under its new weight. Berkley didn't think it felt unpleasant, but would have preferred her first diapered escapade to go more smoothly.

The woman was now staring at the exposed rim of Berkley's diaper, "Uh, do these...accidents...happen, um, often?" she asked, evidently trying not to seem disgusted, though her body language gave her away.

Berkley shook her head, and glanced over at the bathroom stall, where she'd originally planned to mess herself. The woman seemed to take the hint that she wanted some privacy and edged around her, obviously making an attempt to keep her distance.

Berkley waddled over to the handicapped stall. It felt distinctly odd to walk in a messy diaper. The weight in the seat of her diaper was unevenly distributed, and some of it was nearly liquid, but just solid enough that the diaper didn't absorb it. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as she opened the stall door, and pulled down her jeans. She could see that there were a couple of dime-sized dark patches, where the liquid mess had been soaked in.

She pulled her jeans down, paused, and took them all the way off. She did the same with her shirt. This was going to be a messy cleanup, and she knew it. She sat down and gently undid the tapes and with great care, opened the diaper. A little of the semi-solid mess spilled over the leak-guards, which no longer formed a seal against her leg, and plopped onto the toilet seat. She winced as the full unpleasant reality hit her. She lifted her butt and slipped the diaper out from under her, holding it as far from her face as possible. It smelled worse than anything she'd ever smelled before.

Using what seemed like half a roll of toilet paper, she wiped herself clean. Although there was nothing left that she could see, she still felt decidedly unclean. When she'd finished wiping herself down, she poked her head out of the stall door; there was nobody there. She grabbed the messy diaper and tipped most of its contents into the toilet. She grabbed a few more sheets off the roll and wiped off the seat, and used another few sheets to scoop more of the mess from the diaper, into the toilet. Once she'd gotten most of the mess out of the diaper, she rolled it up and used its tapes to keep it rolled. Then, for good measure, she used the rest of the roll of toilet paper to wrap it in a paper cocoon, before finally throwing it in the trash.

Once she'd gotten her jeans back on, sans underwear, and had made sure the toilet flushed, she walked out of there as fast as she could. Luckily she'd gotten cleaned up as fast as she could, because just a few feet down the hall, heading in the direction of the bathrooms, was yet another woman. Hopefully, she never guessed what was in the paper cocoon sitting on top of the trash in the trash can.

She biked home, perhaps a little flustered, but overall satisfied at having used a diaper for the first time since she'd been potty trained. She didn't care that she'd been discovered messing herself, because she didn't know the woman. She didn't care that it had been such a messy accident, because it had been a real accident. She'd only staged one messing accident before, and that had been when she was thirteen, and had pooped her pants in front of the bathroom mirror. Her mom had questioned her about the brown marks which she'd been unable to wipe out completely. Berkley, however, had told her mom that she must not have wiped herself all the way, and her mom had never been the wiser.

When Berkley got home, she could just make out her mom and sister upstairs, talking about her sister's punishment, going over a few rules, some of which Berkley had heard in many a diaper story online. Smiling to herself, she took the bathroom key out of her pocket and walked over to the changing table.

She unlocked the door and grabbed one of the regular diapers which sat on the top of the stack. She stuffed it up her shirt, just under her left arm, and went back upstairs, where she locked the door and took off her jeans again. She lay down on the bed, grinned widely, and taped the new diaper in place.

Chapter 3: Broken Streak

Summer break would be starting soon, it was little more than six weeks, and Beth was making a trip to the store to stock up on groceries. They wouldn't last the whole six weeks, but it would help fend off the hunger that such excitement always brought. She had two teenage daughters in the house, and that meant she needed lots of food. She usually didn't like to give then sweets, but always bought some anyways, as a simple way of showing them how much she cared.

Her oldest daughter, Bailey, was still in diapers. No, she was not a baby, but she had a medical condition that severely weakened her ability to control her bladder. Beth knew her daughter well and even understood what her oldest daughter was going through, having spent the last seventeen years in diapers after becoming incontinent following the birth of her youngest daughter, Berkley.

Beth pulled her car into the driveway of the local supermarket, opened the door and climbed out. She entered the store, grabbed a shopping cart and began to browse. She never carried a list with her when shopping, because she did not need to. She could recall, from memory, everything that they were either running low on or were completely out of back home.

As she walked up and down the aisles, tossing one thing or another into her cart as she went, she began to feel a bit gassy. She hurried up with the groceries which she knew they needed, and grabbed a few things she knew the girls would enjoy, before heading to the front of the store. The lines were long, but not too long. Some of the neighboring cities had already let out for the summer, so the lines were bound to be a bit longer for it.

She tried to find the shortest lane, so she could get through quickly. She really had to go to the bathroom now and wanted to get home to do it. If it were just her bladder, she'd just use the diaper she was wearing, not that she'd have a choice in the matter if it were indeed her bladder that was bothering her. No, she needed to poop, and in the last seventeen years, she'd never done so in her diaper. Heck, in her entire forty years of life, or at least the thirty-seven of which she'd been potty trained, she couldn't recall having a single messing accident.

She couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would be to accidentally poop her pants. Little kids might be fine, especially if they're fresh from their potty training days. Then again, kids that small have little understanding of shame, and might just think it funny.

Unable to find a line with fewer than six carts in front of her, she found herself in serious doubt that she'd be able to hold it in the entire half hour drive back to her house. Unwilling to risk an accident, she went to check the restrooms. The lines for the restrooms were worse than the check-out lines. There were no fewer than ten people standing, not in a line, but in a circle around the bathroom door.

Upon asking one of the patrons what the issue was, she discovered that somebody had clogged the toilet, which had a motion-activated automatic flush system. Unfortunately, every time somebody got close to the toilet to try to unclog it, it would flush and flood the bathroom. Evidently, the store manage had assured them that it would be fixed in a matter of minutes, but the women insisted that had been half an hour ago. Some of them were looking every bit as desperate as Beth felt.

Dismayed but ever resilient, Beth endeavored to try the grocery lines. If she could simply make it through the check-out lines, she could stop somewhere else on the way home and use the restroom there. It wasn't such an irrational idea. If she estimated each person in line took three minutes to check out, she could make it through the shortest line in less than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes still seemed an awfully long time, considering how bad she had to go, but she was a grown woman, and would be able to wait a mere twenty minutes to use the restroom.

Back at the front of the store, however, Beth was unable to find a single line with any fewer than ten people now. Slightly worried, she picked a random lane, thinking she couldn't afford to dawdle in the hopes of finding a better one. Several minutes passed, however, and Beth hadn't moved forward in line one inch. Not being a particularly tall person, she couldn't tell what the holdup was.

Beth had no way of knowing, of course, that there was an employee in training running the cash register, while the man who should have been training him was several registers away, chatting up a pretty blonde customer that was half his age. Twenty minutes passed, and Beth had moved forward a whole two places in line, and that was only because two people had gotten fed up and left, something she was beginning to think she should have done as well.

Beth noticed people looking around, sniffing sharply at the air. She'd been relieving some of the pressure in her abdomen by discreetly letting out little whiffs of gas. Unfortunately, her gas today wasn't exactly odorless, and was attracting unwanted attention. She stopped letting out gas, which made people stop searching for the source of the smell, but made the pressure in her bowels ten times worse.

Another person ahead of her left the line, and she scooted up a few feet. In that instant, she was sure she wouldn't make it to a bathroom if she had to go any further away than the one in the store. Even that bathroom, which was just on the other side of the store, seemed miles away with as bad as her bowels were bothering her.

She began letting out little bits of gas again, in the hopes that it might relieve some of the pain in her abdomen. She was quite aware that not only was she stinking now, she was making quite a bit of noise as well. The entire lane, it seemed was staring at her, though she knew it would be worth the stares if she could simply get out of the store without having an accident.

Even as she had this thought of reassurance, that she would be alright with having an accident, as long as nobody saw, it happened. It didn't happen all at once, as she'd thought it would. Instead, she'd been trying to let out another bout of gas, when she felt something else slip out as well. It was hardly solid, and stuck between her cheeks. She clamped a hand to her backside without a second thought. She was quite aware of the large number of people who were staring and taking a few steps back from her.

She tried not to let anymore out, but the pain in her abdomen was unbearable, and she hoped she might be able to let out a little more gas. Unfortunately, only more semi-solid poop came out, and soon she was filling her diaper with a mixture of brown mush and some that was a bit more solid. She knew everyone had seen what she'd done; there were probably even a few teenagers who'd caught her on their camera phones as well, not that they'd be able to see anything. Within moments, it seemed, Beth was the only person left in her lane. Red-faced and tear-streaked, she paid for her groceries and left.

She shuffled back to her can, trying her best not to think of what she'd just done, or how ashamed she felt. What's more, her daughters would see her like this if she didn't get home soon. She loaded the bags of groceries into the passenger side door of her can, and with a grimace, climbed behind the wheel. She thought it was perhaps the most repulsive feeling she'd ever experienced.

She drove home as fast as she could and took what shortcuts she knew of. Somehow, she managed to get home before either Bailey or Berkley and got herself changed. After she'd gotten herself cleaned up and re-diapered, she cast a disgusted look at the messy diaper. She picked it up, and with no better way to get rid of it, threw it in the trash can that she only ever used for used diapers.

She piled some of her older diapers and a few wipes on top of the messy one in the hopes it would disguise the smell. She even tried spraying air freshener around the room, and sprayed several blasts of it into the can itself. Underneath everything, however, she could still smell the messy diaper. Nothing she did seemed good enough to cover the smell completely.

Before she could think of a better way of disposing of it, however, she heard the door down the hall open and close, the excited chatter of teenage voices, and footsteps running upstairs. Soon, her daughters would come raid the refrigerator, and in doing so, come within ten feet of the messy diaper, which lay in the trash can just inside the door of her room, which was just off the kitchen.

Though Beth was certain her daughters would track the distinct smell to its source, perhaps drawn more by the attempted cover-up of the smell than the actual smell, but they did not. She wondered whether her daughters had noticed the smell but didn't want to say anything, or if they really hadn't noticed at all. She spent the rest of the night, right up until Bailey and Berkley had gone to bed, worrying that they might notice the smell. Whether they did or not, she never truly did find out.

The very next day was trash day in their town, and she didn't hesitate to get the foul smelling trash can out of her room. She took the bag out to the trash can by the side of the road and left it there for pickup. Hopefully this way, if her daughters really hadn't noticed the absolutely horrid smell, which she couldn't understand how they couldn't have, they would never find out about her accident. She couldn't bear to think what her daughters would think of her if they knew she'd pooped herself in front of a crowd of onlookers, many of whom she saw around town, and a few of which, she'd even spoken to before!

Beth went out later that day to buy a few more things which she'd neglected the previous day due to the unfortunate circumstances that befell her. She couldn't bring herself to go to the same store she'd gone to before; it might be months before she'd be able to work up the courage to do that, so she went instead to a different, mainstream store. This time, however, she made sure she used the bathroom before she went out. She spent nearly half an hour on the toilet, just to make sure she'd gotten everything out.

She stopped by her workplace on the way back and picked up various forms that she needed to look over and either sign them, or write a lengthy response as to why she thought the subject of the paperwork was not in the best interest of the company.

Beth pulled back into the driveway of her house at about half passed four that afternoon, groceries in tow. As she was climbing out of her car, however, holding the stack of paperwork, however, she saw a familiar square package, wrapped in brown paper, sitting by the door. She unlocked the door and went in. Bailey and Berkley seemed to have been in the midst of talking as they came downstairs, but had paused as soon as she entered. She thought she could still smell the lingering smell of yesterday's messy diaper.

"Hey, girls, how was school today?" she asked, as she placed the package of diapers and pile of paperwork on the table. She'd hoped that in asking this, her daughter's might not notice the day old and yet oddly fresh smell or a dirty diaper.

"Mom, I-," began Bailey, her oldest, though she was interrupted at once.

"Bailey s**t her pants," Berkley blurted, arms folded and looking sour.

It took Beth a second to register this, and she turned to Berkley, about to ask if they knew she'd pooped herself the previous day, but before she could even get the words out, Berkley was nodding. Paranoid out of her mind, Beth was suddenly furious. Obviously Bailey had messed herself to make fun of her! Obviously, Bailey had found the diaper, or else guessed from the smell that her mother had pooped herself.

She wouldn't tolerate that behavior from her daughter, however; her almost adult daughter. No, Bailey's behavior, her insistence on mocking her mother was not behavior befitting an adult; it was something a toddler would do.

Bailey, obviously realizing how furious her mom was, seemed to be coming up with excuses on the spot as to why she had messed herself.

"It was an accident," she'd said, "I didn't mean to do it!" Beth however, knew the truth. Bailey would admit to it, or she would suffer the consequences. Obviously, there would be consequences no matter what, she couldn't just let her daughter mock her, but the consequences would be more severe if Bailey continued to lie to her.

She'd taken Bailey upstairs, in the hopes that she'd be more inclined to tell the truth without Berkley's interference. She knew Bailey always tried to be brave in front of Berkley, and would never admit that she'd lied if she was around, so she had taken Bailey upstairs and told Berkley to remain downstairs.

Bailey still wouldn't admit that she'd discovered her mom's accident, and Beth almost believed her. The thought flickered into her mind that Bailey may be telling the truth, that she may have genuinely had an accident, but the chances were just too slim. In thirty-seven years, she had pooped herself only once, and that was yesterday. Then, after failing to completely hide the accident, Bailey just so happened to mess herself the next day? No, Bailey must have done it on purpose.

Beth spent the next few weeks planning and preparing Bailey's punishment. She couldn't definitively link Berkley to her sister's messing, so she only made plans for Bailey. She placed orders on several sites that offered adult-sized baby clothes, furniture, and accessories. The fact that such sites even existed was quite alarming to her, after all, what self-respecting adult would want to dress like a baby? The reasons behind the sites, however, weren't so important, though; she needed some of the things only they could offer.

The most important package arrived two weeks before Bailey's eighteenth birthday; a large package, containing all the stuff needed to assemble an adult-sized changing table. She hid the package in the garage until the night before Bailey's birthday.

That night, as her daughters slept, she installed a new doorknob with a lock on the bathroom door. She woke Berkley momentarily to fill her in and to give her the extra key.

"Do not tell your sister, or you'll endure twice the punishment," she'd told her youngest daughter in harsh, but truthful tones.

When she awoke the next morning, she quietly assembled the changing table in the living room, and stacked the other packages that had arrived over the last few weeks. She knew Bailey well enough, and knew she'd likely submit to whatever punishment was handed to her. The more embarrassing the punishment was, the quicker Bailey would submit, in the hopes that it would all be over soon.

Beth, however, had already placed delayed orders to have extra diapers and other things delivered to their house over the next six months. Bailey would not be getting out of this punishment early. In a couple hours, Bailey would become Baby Bailey.

Part 4: Resumption

Chapter 1: Confrontation, Retribution, Satisfaction

Bailey woke up on her back, and saw the mobile overhead. She'd been having a pleasant dream in which she was hanging out with her friends, but upon laying eyes on the dangling, pastel-colored ponies, reality whipped back to mind. The room was dark, but putting out her arm, she felt the bars. Yes, her mom's newest addition to her punishment was definitely real. That part had unfortunately not been a dream; she was lying in a crib big enough to hold a grown man.

She glanced through the bars, blinking sleep from her eyes. The clock on her desk told her it was nearly six in the morning. She had barely registered that she needed to pee when she felt the warm wetness spreading between her legs. She sighed, yawned and lay back down. She lay there for a while, the memories of the past couple of days twittering around in her head. One memory, however, stuck out; she was almost sure she'd seen a diaper when Berkley's shirt had fluttered two days ago.

"Why would Berkley be wearing a diaper?" she wondered ceaselessly. It was a thought that irritated her as much as it intrigued her. Had Berkley been having accidents and was too embarrassed to tell? Perhaps she'd been wetting the bed? That wouldn't explain why she was wearing it in the evening though. Maybe Berkley was just into that sort of thing; people, after all, have all sorts of weird fetishes.

Bailey couldn't be sure of any of this; due largely in part to the fact that she had no proof Berkley had even been wearing a diaper. She'd certainly not been wearing one when she'd seen her the previous day. Maybe she'd taken it off, or maybe she'd used it; Bailey had no way of knowing. Sure, Berkley may have snatched a few diapers or something, but Bailey knew her sister well enough to know that she'd hide something like that, and hide it well.

Bailey found that she must have fallen back asleep without realizing it, because her room was suddenly flooded with light. Her diaper was even more soaked than it had been after she'd wet it hours prior. She must have wet it in her sleep again; something that seemed to be happening with increasing regularity. The diaper was, indeed, swollen to near-capacity, and sagged between her legs as she stood up in her crib.

Minutes later, Berkley came into her room without knocking.

"Good morning," she said, smiling from ear to ear, "Looks like Baby could use a diaper change."

"So it would seem," mumbled Bailey under her breath, as her eyes darted down to Berkley's waist.

"It's possible," Bailey thought, "that Berkley might be diapered now. There does seem to be an outline of something there." Bailey tried, without drawing too much attention, to examine the crotch of her sister's jeans more closely, but it was just too hard to tell for sure.

Berkley unlocked Bailey's crib. Bailey had apparently not noticed that there was no real lock on it, just a pin that needed to be pulled that allowed the gate to slide out of place. The two of them headed downstairs, and a minute later, Bailey realized their mom wasn't there. She was going to be changed by Berkley again, but at least her diaper was only wet this time.

Berkley helped her up onto the changing table, and in what seemed like an instant, had Bailey's diaper opened. It was a good think Berkley knew to keep the old diaper in place until the new one was ready, because Bailey could feel herself starting to pee again, even as Berkley began wiping her down.

"Ew!" Berkley shouted. She'd just been reaching towards Bailey with a wipe in her hand when Bailey's stream of urine splashed her hand. Berkley's reflexes were good, however, and she managed to pull the front of the old diaper over Bailey before she could drizzle all over the table. She waited a few seconds until the hiss died down.

"Finished?" she asked Bailey as she finished wiping off her hand.

"I think so," she said, blushing and trying not to laugh. She hadn't, after all, meant to start peeing again. That was something she had little control over anymore, and they both knew it. In any case, she hadn't even noticed Berkley's hand coming towards her.

Berkley finished wiping Bailey down, finishing with that disturbing swipe through her cleft which always made Bailey shudder. She then grabbed one of the Baby Girl diapers, something Bailey hoped she'd done without looking, instead of intentionally, and taped it up, after adding ample amounts of baby powder, of course.

Bailey slipped on her onesie, which she'd neglected to put back on the previous day. She'd been fine with that at the time, and had been glad to let her body breathe, but now she was beginning to feel a bit exposed. She thanked Berkley again for changing her, and threw another glance at her crotch. There definitely seemed to be a bulge there.

Berkley turned to walk away, and in that instant, Bailey knew her sister must be wearing a diaper. The bulge was not noticeable from the front, but there was a clear-cut outline of a diaper underneath her sister's jeans when viewed from behind. Without thinking, without even stopping to think how she'd explain herself if she was wrong, she lifted the back of her sister's shirt.

Berkley was, without a doubt, wearing a diaper. She forced her shirt back down and rounded on Bailey, a look of pure shock dawning on her face. Her mouth was agape, her face was going pink, and her eyes swam with tears of unbridled embarrassment. Bailey's eyes widened in shock as her mind registered what she'd seen; white plastic jutting from the waist of her sister's jeans. She lifted her eyes and stared into Berkley's tear-filled eyes.

Bailey found it difficult to feel sorry for Berkley, when it had been Berkley who'd first told their mom that Bailey had messed herself, and had indeed been the factor that had resulted in the accident in the first place. She'd endured relentless embarrassment at school, and had been subjected to very demeaning punishments by their mom as Berkley had stood by. Now, here she was, standing over Berkley with the knowledge that Berkley, who had no bladder or bowel control issues, was wearing a diaper. What's more, she knew it couldn't be the first time. The odds that she'd suspected her sister of wearing a diaper one day, and her actually wearing a diaper a couple of days later for the first time were too improbable to even consider.

"Just wait until Mom hears about this," Bailey said, grinning mischievously. Now was her chance for revenge for when she'd begged and pleaded with Berkley not to tell their mom she'd accidentally messed her diaper.

"Please don't!" said Berkley, as tears streaked down her face.

"Oh, I wonder what she'll say," Berkley said, grinning ever wider. She was so pleased with this turn of events that she almost laughed.

"Please don't!" screamed Berkley, falling to her knee, tugging at her hair, and sounding hysterical.

Bailey felt a pebble of pity amongst an avalanche of satisfaction, as she watched Berkley breaking down. She couldn't wait to tell her mom what Berkley was wearing, and she sure as Hell wasn't about to let Berkley worm her way out of it.

Bailey had to stop Berkley from running upstairs, undoubtedly to change out of the diaper. She blocked the stairs, like a goalie tending the net. She wouldn't let Berkley through for anything.

Both girls had bickered themselves into exhaustion before their mom came through the door. Immediately, they both ran to her, screaming so loud and so fast that Beth couldn't understand much of what either of them said. She heard Bailey say something about, "wearing," and heard Berkley say something that sounded like, "believe," but neither of them made any sense. She held up both hands, palms towards her daughters, and silence fell.

"One at a time," she said with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. She had been having a rather good day, but it seemed like the good times had ceased as she'd opened the door. She pointed to Bailey, "You first."

Bailey tried not to sound too pleased as she began, "Berkley is wearing a diaper, Mom." She felt a wave of grim satisfaction as her mom let out a disbelieving shock, and looked toward Berkley's waist.

"I saw it earlier, after she changed me out of last night's diaper"

No sooner had Bailey finished the explanation, than Berkley began shouting in protest, "D-don't believe her, Mom! She made me wear it!" Her voice gave away the lie; it was the voice of one desperately trying to escape an inescapable situation.

"Shirt, up," their mom said, staring Berkley down. She sounded quite calm, like a parent telling their disobedient kid to go to bed, because it is long after their bedtime.

Berkley, her brow wrinkled, her face pulled into a grimace, and tears streaking down her pink cheeks, lifted the very hem of her shirt, and turned her face aside. There was no denying what that smooth, white material was. Even as Berkley felt her mom's eyes on her, she broke into fresh tears.

Bailey watched on, never bothering to say a word, as Beth hauled Berkley upstairs by her wrist. She smiled silently to herself, as she felt familiar warmth spreading between her legs, and knew that whenever her mom had punished Berkley, she'd need changed. She hoped, though she scarcely dared to think it, that her mom might even release her from her punishment.

She hoped that Berkley would have to endure six months of babying, though now that she had time to think, maybe Berkley would enjoy that? She had, after all, been wearing a diaper. Bailey had no way of knowing whether Berkley had a genuine need for diapers; maybe she'd been wetting the bed; maybe she'd just been really good at hiding her accidents, but Bailey didn't think so.

Bailey just could not understand why her sister would do it; she'd been potty trained for years. There were no real benefits to wearing diapers if bathrooms were readily available, and virtually no stigma attached to admitting you have to go. Berkley had even been more successful at potty training than she had been! Bailey had continued to wet the bed until she was six, no matter what her sister had thought. Berkley had never had such problems though; once Berkley had been potty trained, she never had a single accident.

Bailey heard various shouts and groans of frustration echoing from upstairs. She tried not to feel too happy, but at the same time tried not to feel too sorry for Berkley. Berkley had caused her a lot of grief, but she was still her sister. Whatever she'd done, no matter what she'd said, she was still her sister.

It was a while their mom came downstairs again. Berkley came down a while later and was really quiet. She refused to look at Bailey. She kept her head down most of the time, and whenever she needed to look up, she pretended that Bailey wasn't there.

The two girls seemed to regard one another as nothing more than shadows for the rest of the night. Supper passed without a word, and Bailey underwent her usual after-dinner diaper change without Berkley's ever-curious eyes. She went to bed that night without having spoken to Berkley since their mom had come home.

Bailey wondered if she'd been right to tell their mom about Berkley. Her sister had, after all, told their mom about how she'd accidentally pooped herself, which had led to her current predicament. She'd been mean to Berkley though; she'd even gone so far as to blame Berkley for making her mess herself, when in fact, Berkley had simply beaten her to the restroom. It wasn't Berkley's fault they both needed to poop at the same time.

A couple of hours passed, and Bailey was lying in her crib, quite awake. She wasn't tired, which was odd, because being babied usually tired her out. She'd hoped that her mom might have lifted her punishment, but if the thought had even crossed her mind, her mom had given no sign. Her mind wandered ceaselessly to Berkley, and wondered what her mom had said to her. There had certainly been a lot of yelling, but Bailey had been unable to make out more than a few strings of swear words.

Bailey had no desire to simply fall asleep; she wanted to know what was going on. Waiting around, simply wondering what words had been exchanged between her sister and mother was like having an itch that she couldn't scratch. She wondered what her mom would do to Berkley, or what she had done already.

Bailey lay there for another hour, questioning what might be, before she finally nodded off to sleep. As usual, her dreams were vague and uninteresting; though she thought she might have heard bits of the argument again, though she could still make out nothing of what was said.

When she awoke the next morning, it was to find her mother trying unsuccessfully to open the door noiselessly. Seeing that Bailey was awake, however, she entered as she normally would. She released Bailey from the crib, though Bailey could have easily done it by herself. There was no lock on it, after all, just a latch.

Without a word, Bailey followed her mom into the hall, but instead of turning right, towards the stairs, they turned left, towards Berkley's room. Slightly confused, Bailey followed her mom the rest of the way to her sister's door. She was consciously aware of her need to pee for a fraction of a second before a loud hissing noise filled the air.

Her mom looked at her and merely said, "I'll change you in a minute, honey, we just need to wake your sister up." She then turned back to Berkley's door and knocked, before trying the knob. Evidently it was locked, as it usually was. Berkley had of a habit of locking her door every time she closed it.

After a minute, the door creaked open, and Berkley stood there, wiping the sleep from her eyes, evidently unaware of how she was wearing only a grey t-shirt, and a sagging, yellow-tinged diaper. Bailey gaped at the display, but their mom simply said, "Let's get you two changed." At these words, Berkley opened her eyes just wide enough to see Bailey standing there, gaping, before going bright red and sweeping past her older sister.

Bailey's mind was all in a daze, having just seen her sister, not just in a diaper, but in a visibly wet diaper. Had this been Berkley's punishment? To be diapered, like their mom and herself were? That seemed likely to Bailey, as Berkley had evidently lost her bathroom privileges.

After a moment of stunned silence, in which confused thoughts fluttered through her mind, Bailey remembered her own diaper, which was sagging every bit as much as Berkley's had been, if not more. Remembering this, she went downstairs, where her mom would change her.

Chapter 2: Confrontation, Revelation, Satisfaction

Berkley locked her door as she closed it, just as always had, ever since she'd started browsing the sites she'd discovered years back. She sat down at the desk in front of her computer and pressed the power button. As she waited for the computer to start up, she removed her jeans and sighed contentedly. She smiled as she felt the white plastic. It was smooth, soft, and flexible. What's more, it was warm from her body heat.

When the computer had loaded, she instantly began browsing all of her favorite sites. Some were merely story sites, but others had forums, and some even had pictures, but she didn't care much for those. It was the stories that intrigued her, that drove her imagination.

She laughed to herself every time something struck her as funny, and gasped anytime there was a twist. It didn't matter how corny the stories were; they were about a subject she loved. Story after story she read; some long, some short; some well-written, some less so; some with colorful characters, some with no characters at all! It didn't matter to her, she read them all.

As the night crept on, and her eyes began to droop, she clicked off her monitor and climbed beneath her sheets. Unlike her sister, however, her dreams were vivid. She dreamed that night of many things. There were swirling colors and ballroom music. There were men in colorful suits and women in floating dresses, all dancing and blurred. There was light and darkness, and figures so real, she would never guess she was dreaming. She saw her sister and her mom, and the man she'd once called "Dad." She saw her friends and the people that had made fun of her when she was growing up. Everything was spinning in a beautiful ballet, even as she felt it falling away.

She awoke to find a beam of light falling across her face. She felt the diaper between her legs, and smiled. Her bladder ached, but she could not use it this time, it wouldn't be prudent to be discovered like that. She got up, walked to the bathroom and unlocked it. Shutting the door behind her, she lowered her jeans and went to undo the tapes on the diaper, but stopped, smiling.

An idea had occurred to her, something she'd wanted to try for years, but had neither the opportunity nor the nerve until now. Even before laying hands on a diaper, she'd wished she could try it. It would be simple, and not really a difficult cleanup. She prepped herself, and focused as hard as she could, telling herself that it would be alright.

Her bladder aching, and her body tingling, she kicked off her jeans and spread her legs. She'd never been good at convincing her body to do something it didn't want to do, but this time, she would be successful. She felt shivers going down her spine, as every nerve pulsed with excitement. Even so, her body was incredibly well trained.

She tried for several minutes, pressing on her bladder and trying to force herself to pee, but only a few drops came out. After a while, she tried relaxing, but still only a little bit of a trickle came. With the trickle, however, her body seemed to come to its senses and forced her to stop. This happened several times, as she would begin to trickle, and then stop, time and again.

Eventually, though she never quite reached a full stream, her bladder had completely emptied. She sighed with relief, and immediately reached to undo the tapes on the diaper. Before she could undo even the first tape, she heard her mom knocking lightly on the door. She quickly pulled her jeans back on, buttoned them and flushed the toilet, though there was nothing in it. She ran the sink for a few seconds, but had no reason to really wash them and opened the door.

Her mom was standing there; she was still dressed in her night clothes, though Berkley was sure she had work that day. She scooted Berkley aside and shooed her out of the room. The door thudded closed and Berkley could hear her mom pulling her own pants down, followed shortly by the easily identifiable sound of urination.

"Be sure to get your sister up before she gets a rash, I'm already running late," her mom said through the door.

Berkley inspected herself and was glad to see that the diaper didn't bulge too much. Yes, she could feel the warm dampness between her legs, or rather, she felt the warmth and felt the humidity retained in the plastic shell, but felt none of the actual moisture, for the diaper had done its job and done it well. It was bulkier between her legs, but she felt she could walk without a waddle.

She didn't dare press her legs together, even if it would allow her to walk more casually, as the diaper might leak. She'd never seen it do so on her sister, but that might be because her sister never fully wet. She trickled, as Berkley knew very well, but it was unlikely that she ever emptied a full bladder into a diaper.

Berkley stood outside the bathroom door, relishing the warm bulk between her legs, her mind drifting ever to the stories she'd enjoyed in private for so many years. She almost forgot that she was supposed to be waking Bailey up. That could wait though; it was still much earlier than when her sister would normally wake up. Bailey, she thought, could stand to wait just a little while longer to get her diaper changed.

Berkley crept silently back down the hall to her own room, locked the door behind her and clicked on her computer. She browsed her favorite sites, and read a couple of shorter stories. She barely registered the sound of the toilet flushing, the bathroom door opening, and the stairs creaking, as her mom went downstairs and off to whatever appointment she was running late for.

An hour passed, and Berkley snuck downstairs to grab another diaper. In the cupboard beneath the changing table, she saw several pacifiers. She longed to take one and to pop it in her mouth, but she didn't dare; there were dozens upon dozens of diapers, a few of those wouldn't be missed, but there were few pacifiers, and somebody might notice their absence.

She blushed furiously as she lifted up one of the ‘Baby Girl' diapers. She'd like some of those too, but like the pacifiers, there were too few of them; she couldn't risk it. Instead, she grabbed one of the plain white diapers, and placed it on the changing table. She could change in her room, sure, but what she needed to do now was simply remove her used diaper. She felt she could have wet in it more without too much risk, but she didn't need to go anymore, and threw it away into the diaper pail.

She didn't even bother to hide the white diaper underneath her shirt as she carried it upstairs, to her room where she would change. Before she changed, however, she was sure to close all of the windows she left open on her computer, lest somebody stumble upon them. When she'd done this, she lay down on her bed, pulled down her jeans and diapered herself. She hoped one day that she might find somebody who would diaper her, and maybe even treat her like a baby from time to time.

The idea wasn't a sexual one for her; no, she wasn't ‘turned on' by diapers, at least not in that sense. She enjoyed them, yes, she even enjoyed wetting and messing them, though her only experience with the latter so far had not gone quite according to plan. It was fun for her, using her pants as a bathroom, and the baby clothes and toys, she simply found adorable. These were the thoughts that fluttered through her head as she finished diapering herself, before pulling her jeans back up.

Once more, she examined the bulge in the crotch of her jeans. It was there, yes, but it wasn't noticeable. If asked, she'd blame it on the poor quality of her jeans, and how it made her look funny. When she'd finished examining herself, she clicked the door open, and walked down the hall to Bailey's room.

She didn't bother with knocking, Bailey might still be asleep, and was in a crib anyways. She was a little surprised, though not entirely shocked to find that Bailey was standing up in her crib, wide awake. She smiled and tried to sound casual, as she said, "Good morning." She paused briefly as her eyes found Bailey's obviously soaked diaper, which sagged noticeably between her sister's thighs, and thought, "I guess her bladder does get rather full sometimes." In a jealousy-soaked tone, which she hoped sounded more derogatory, even if it made her sister hate her, "Looks like Baby could use a diaper change."

"So it would seem," Bailey mumbled. Berkley felt a shiver run down her spine as she saw her sister's eyes seem to focus on her waist. Not willing to give her sister enough time to zero in on the bulge, she approached the crib quickly and let her sister out. Berkley then led her sister downstairs, and hoped Bailey wouldn't investigate her own padded posterior as she led the way.

Downstairs on the changing table, Berkley was thankful that she'd read enough stories to know how to change a diaper, because her sister evidently had less control than she thought. She'd been absentmindedly going through the motions of changing her sister's diaper, when she felt a semi-warm liquid splash her hand. She barely registered what her sister was doing in time to keep the table dry. Luckily, she knew to pull the old diaper up and held it there until Bailey was finished.

After the diaper change had been completed, all sense of obligation to help her sister was forgotten. She'd also forgotten, however, that Bailey was onto her; she knew Bailey would be keeping an eye out for any sign of a diaper, and in the instant she felt the back of her shirt being lifted, she knew Bailey had spotted. She whirled around and saw her sister's eyes widening in shock, and felt her own eyes filling up with tears.

"Just wait until Mom hears about this," Bailey said, a grin etched on her face, much to Berkley's horror.

A million terrible thoughts flooded through her mind all at once. Her mom would be so mad, she might kick her out of the house or something just as bad. What's more, what if her mom took away her computer and then went through her history, or browsed her favorites? She'd renamed the links, she'd even hidden them in misleading folders, but that seemed stupidly childish now. What would her mom do to her if Bailey told?

"Please don't!" she said, as tears streaked down her face. She'd idolized her sister, but had treated her so badly. How could she ever have hoped her sister would forgive her? Perhaps she would be the better person; perhaps she would be nice and not tell.

Oh, I wonder what she'll say," Bailey said, grinning ever wider.

"Please don't!" Berkley screamed, as all hope flitted away. She fell to her knees and grabbed her own head. She felt her fingernails scraping her scalp as she grabbed handfuls of her own hair.

She tried to run upstairs, if not to change out of the diaper she was now cursing, then to delete the links off her computer, wipe her search history, remove all traces of what she had been enjoying so much for the past several years.

Bailey, however, would not let her go. No matter how much she begged and pleaded, her sister, her idol, was going to make her suffer. When her appeal for pity had been denied time and again, she began to scream at her sister. She didn't even know what she was saying, and couldn't understand Bailey's retorts, which were equally loud.

Eventually the front door opened again, and their mom came in. Immediately, they both ran to her, screaming so loud and so fast that Beth couldn't understand much of what either of them said. She heard Bailey say something about, "wearing," and heard Berkley say something that sounded like, "believe," but neither of them made any sense. She held up both hands, palms towards her daughters, and silence fell.

"One at a time," she said with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. She pointed at Bailey, and said, "You first." Berkley felt her heart hit rock bottom.

Berkley was shaking violently as she heard her sister betray her, as she herself had once been betrayed. No sooner had Bailey finished the explanation, than Berkley began shouting in protest, "D-don't believe her, Mom! She made me wear it!" Her voice gave away the lie; it was the voice of one desperately trying to escape an inescapable situation.

"Shirt, up," their mom said, staring Berkley down. She sounded quite calm, like a parent telling their disobedient kid to go to bed, because it is long after their bedtime.

Berkley, her brow wrinkled, her face pulled into a grimace, and tears streaking down her pink cheeks, lifted the very hem of her shirt, and turned her face aside. There was no denying what that smooth, white material was. Even as Berkley felt her mom's eyes on her, she broke into fresh tears.

Her mother grabbed her by the wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough that she knew not to pull away. She didn't resist as she was led upstairs and into her own room. She cast a sideways glance at her computer, which could still incriminate her so easily. She came to a sudden stop as her mom let go, turned about and closed the door behind them.

Rather than yelling, as Berkley had expected, her mother turned to her, a slightly irritated expression on her face.

"Why?" she asked, simply.

It was a simple enough question, but Berkley didn't know how to go about answering it. She couldn't simply tell her mom, "Oh hey, guess what! I like wearing diapers; just thought I'd tell you." No, that would be stupid. She'd read stories where people had done that, and it had seemed to work out reasonably well for them, but those were fiction, and stuff like that didn't work in real life.

Instead of offering an explanation, she shrugged and remained silent. It seemed the more prudent choice, between offering the truth and offering nothing at all. She knew her mom wouldn't accept her response either way, her mom was just too narrow-minded.

"Berkley, look at me," Beth commanded, slightly louder than she'd spoken before.

Berkley, who'd been staring at her own knees, looked up. Her eyes were dry now, but were very red and puffy.

"Berkley, why are you wearing a diaper? Have you been wetting the bed? Have you been having accidents?" her mom asked.

Berkley thought briefly that she could lie to her mom, but knew that she'd have to make a visit to the doctor, who would tell her that there was nothing wrong. She might be able to claim she'd been wetting the bed; there were a million reasons why people do that, but decided against it. It would simply be too hard to keep up that particular charade.

"I can't tell you," she said in a strained voice, not quite daring to look her mom in the eyes.

"You can and will!" her mom said, louder still. She was now visibly angry, her cheeks were violently pink and her eyes were wide.

Berkley averted her gaze once more as new tears welled up in her eyes.

"I can't," she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. She wanted to break free, to go downstairs and out the door, where she could find some means of escaping this horrible nightmare.

What happened next, Berkley had expected, but was still not prepared for. Her mom burst into a tirade of angry yelling with a few swears thrown in. This reminded her momentarily of how she'd been arguing with her sister before their mom had gotten home. She could understand little of what her mom said, though she was able to pick up

Berkley didn't know that made her do it, but she found herself suddenly on her feet, almost nose-to nose with her mom, a difficult feat, given she was several inches taller than her mom. She was almost sure her mom would smack her, but the blow never came.

After several minutes of intense arguing and swearing, her mom ran a hand through her own disheveled brown hair, and sat down on the bed. Berkley sat down beside her, but said nothing.

"One year, Berkley. Your sister had a reason to wear diapers, but you do not. You like wearing them? Fine, let's see if you still like it after a year," her mom said.

"No bathroom for you, give me your key."

Berkley's heart skipped, both out of shock and a little out of eagerness. She'd dreamed of this day, though she was sure her mom had no idea of that. Her mom had evidently picked up on the fact that she liked wearing them, though that was pretty evident, given she had expressly mentioned that she hadn't been having accident or wetting the bed.

She reached into her pocket, felt the toothed edge of the key, wrapped her fingers around it, and withdrew her hand from her pocket. She handed it to her mom, and gave it one last look before it disappeared into her mom's own pocket.

Her mom stood up, walked over to the door, and turned to face her once again and said, "I hope you realize, you're wearing your bathroom now." She then turned back around, paused for half a second with her hand on the knob, turned it, and left, pulling the door closed behind her.

Berkley smiled, placed a thumb in the waistband of her jeans, beneath the diaper, and stood up. She clicked on her computer, browsed her favorite story sites one more time, and re-read a few of her favorites before deleting them off her computer and clearing her search history.

It was a while later that she came downstairs, though she felt a surge of anger and shame when she realized Bailey was in whatever room she wanted to be in. She avoided Bailey like the plague for the rest of the night. Bailey finally went upstairs following her usual after-dinner diaper change.

Berkley's bladder and bowels had been aching since an hour before supper, and she knew it wouldn't be able to hold it in much longer. She was therefore extremely thankful to see Bailey heading upstairs. In the dining room, she relaxed her bladder, though the task required quite a bit of coaxing on behalf of her body. She didn't have to pee nearly as bad as she had to poop, however, and as a result, only a short stream of maybe five second was all she could muster.

Her bowels were the main issue, however. She usually pooped a few times a day, and so far had not pooped once. It was true, however, that she hadn't had much to eat, or been nearly as active as she usually was, which usually loosened her bowels up. She didn't have to struggle so much to mess; she just had to go so badly. It began with a long hiss of escaping gas, which was cut off short by a solid mass. She felt her cheeks spread as the mess pushed them aside. She felt her diaper sag as much as her jeans would allow, before the warm mass began to spread, not out, but down between her legs.

She shuddered as the warm mess moved between her thighs, but kept pushing. By the time she was done, she could imagine how much strain the tapes holding her diaper together must be under. She placed a hand delicately on her padded butt, and felt the noticeable bulge. Come September when school started up again, she had to make a mental note not to mess during the school day. This would be difficult, as she usually pooped at least once at school, though the toilets were disgusting.

Her mom came out of the kitchen, sniffed the air and looked over at Berkley, who was standing there, legs parted awkwardly. She came up to Berkley, walked around her, and much to Berkley's surprise, tugged at the waistband of her jeans and diaper.

"Thought so," she said before taking Berkley delicately by the hand and walking her over to the changing table.

She didn't struggle or move as her mom changed her. She thought vividly of all the times she'd wished for this very thing to happen. This was much more embarrassing than she'd imagined, partly because she'd always hoped it would be a handsome man changing her, not her mom. It was fitting though, since it had been her mom that had changed her diapers up until thirteen years ago.

After her diaper was changed, her mom did not hand her back her jeans. Instead, she told her to run upstairs and bring her the rest of her jeans.

"I don't have a onesie for you; you're a little taller than your sister, so hers wouldn't fit you," she explained, "You're just going to have to go without until I can get one for you. You can have your jeans back when we need to go out."

Berkley said nothing as she went upstairs, crept past Bailey's room and into her own. She quickly removed every pair of pants from her closet, even her pajama bottoms, which she rarely wore anyways. She then took them downstairs; all the while hoping Bailey wouldn't come out of her room and see her in a diaper. She would know eventually, very soon in fact, but Berkley still wanted this to herself.

When she'd brought all of her clothes downstairs, she returned to her room, locked the door behind her and clicked on her computer again. She knew she'd just risked a much worse punishment, had her mom discovered her secret sites, but she couldn't resist. She found many of them again with no difficulty, and read a few new stories, before wiping her search history again and going to bed.

Berkley awoke once in the middle of the night, as she sometimes did. Her bladder was throbbing painfully, and at first she got up to go to the bathroom, but felt the bulkiness between her legs. She smiled sleepily; eyes still shut, and relaxed her bladder. It was easier this time, and within seconds, she felt warmth spreading between her legs, and the pain of her throbbing bladed fading away. She sighed contentedly and fell back asleep.

She awoke to rhythmic tapping on her door. Without thinking, she climbed out of bed, and opened the door. She wiped her eyes groggily and heard her mom say, "Let's get you two changed." She opened her eyes just wide enough to see her sister, standing wide-eyed and open-mouthed at her. She felt her face burn slightly and brushed passed her sister. She couldn't help walk a bit awkwardly, as she felt the bulky diaper sagging heavily between her legs.

She went downstairs, ahead of her mom and sister, not so much eager to get her diaper changed, because she, unlike Bailey, thought it a rather pleasant sensation. However, as much as she wanted to be diapered and maybe even babied, she had no desire to get a rash.

This was going to be an interesting year. Some kids might not think so, most in fact, but as far as she could see, this was all she had ever wanted, and she was going to enjoy every last minute of it that she could. The only problem that she could foresee was trying to explain to her friends that she wouldn't be able to hang out with any of them for an entire year.

Part 5: The Baby Bruhns

Chapter 1: Getting in the Groove

One month had passed since the Bruhn girls had been made to wear and use diaper. Bailey Bruhn of course had already been using diapers for one reason for years prior to this, but times had changed. Bathrooms were off limits, be they private or public. On the rare occasion that the girls were taken out to a store or restaurant, they were required to stay close by their mother at all times, lest they risk an extended punishment.

Berkley was adapting fairly well to her punishment, which she seemed to regard as a minor inconvenience at worst, and a fun game at best. She made little effort to hide her enjoyment of the situation, her family already knew. She had been punished as a result of being discovered in a diaper, and was now being made to wear them day in and day out for a whole year. Some might have called it harsh, but Berkley did not protest. Part of her even wished she could remain in diapers for longer.

The two girls hadn't fully resolved their conflict, but were now getting along well enough. Berkley was still irked at Bailey for ignoring her pleas, but partly thankful for inadvertently allowing her to explore her fantasies. Admittedly, her fantasies would be more enjoyably fulfilled if she could be changed by a handsome man that would laugh with her and not at her, and smile down at her, rather than smirk. These were romantic ideas, she knew, but they might still happen one day. If there was one thing she had learned from her favorite websites, it was that these fantasies would be with her all the days of her life, for better or worse.

Bailey, unlike Berkley, was still dreading every day that she woke up, knowing she'd be subjected to the same humiliating treatment she'd been subjected to for a little over a month now. She didn't like wearing a onesie, or sucking on a pacifier, or drinking every beverage she had from a bottle. She was fine with peeing herself, not happy about it, but not really unhappy. Pooping herself, messing her diapers, filling them, going number two; this was what bothered her more than anything. It only happened once, maybe twice a day, but it was, without a doubt, the worst part of her day by far.

Both girls had gotten used to getting their diapers changed by somebody else, namely their mother. Berkley was a bit shyer about it than Bailey was, perhaps because she felt it was an invasion of her fantasy world, perhaps because she was just naturally shy about exposing herself. In either case, both girls knew when to get their diapers changed, and both knew that they needed to wait for their mom if she was out or busy.

Trips to the outside world were few and far between. Bailey and Berkley, they baby Bruhns, had only been taken out once so far, and it had been the most embarrassing moment of either of their lives. Their mom had produced a couple of mismatched outfits that would look at home on a baby doll, but looked quite ridiculous on a real girl.

Bailey had been dressed in a white t-shirt with the words, "Big Sis" embroidered in bright pink on the front and back. Over her diaper, she'd been made to wear some sort of short green skirt with purple polka dots of varying sizes. The skirt was so short that it only came down to mid-thigh; she'd seen girls in school wear skirts shorter than this, but she was sure they weren't wearing diapers that might be exposed if she bent over too far, sat the wrong way, or wet themselves. Her shoes had been some sort of hard purple plastic slip-on, over white knee-high socks. What made the outfit absolutely terrible however, was her hair. Her mom had pulled her shoulder-length hair up into pig-tails, a style which she had always abhorred.

Berkley's outfit was hardly any better. Her shirt was the inverse of Bailey's; pink with white embroidering which spelled out, "Little Sis," Her skirt was just as short as Bailey's, but a bright, venomous green. Her shoes were white and adorned with frilly bows. Her hair was too long to put in simple pig-tails, so she was made to wear a denim cap with the familiar words, "Little Sis," embroidered over the duck-bill.

The place to which the girls had been taken had been a couple of hours away. Their mom had needed to meet somebody several cities away to discuss a business deal, and wasn't sure how long it would take. She'd brought extra diapers and, embarrassingly enough, an extra change of clothes for each of the girls, "Just in case," she told them.

The deal had taken less time than Beth had originally thought. Bailey was only a little damp, which was usual. They'd be home in a couple of hours, and she'd be able to get changed. Berkley was much wetter than her Big Sis, and what's more, she needed to go number two. There were a couple of problems with this; for one, she was sitting. She wasn't sure if it was even possible to mess herself while sitting, but she didn't think it was. There would be no room for the mess to spread. Perhaps if it was the runny kind, but this didn't feel like it. No, Berkley rarely had runny messes, which was somewhat of a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, runny messes smelled horrible and felt disgusting, even to her. On the other hand, he stomach kept cramping and her bowels kept trying to evacuate themselves, with little to no success.

Second on the list of problems messing herself would entail; even if she could relieve herself, they were in a closed environment almost two hours away from a diaper change. Over the last month, Berkley had messed herself no fewer than twice a day, with her record being five. In that time, she'd learned a valuable lesson: there are good times and bad times to mess yourself. Good times were at home, when their mom wasn't busy. Bad times were, so far as she could tell, any other time.

Berkley's need to relieve herself had not gone unnoticed. Bailey, who sat beside Berkley in the back seat of their mother's car, knew that Berkley had to poop as soon as the fidgeting started. They'd barely even gotten back on the road before Berkley began to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Though she said nothing, it was very evident from the pained winces and irritated shuffles what the problem was.

Half an hour passed, then forty-five minutes, and finally an hour. The three diapered Bruhns were halfway home, and Berkley was shifting side-to-side, back and forth constantly. She'd let out several muffled hisses and groans of expelled gas, a few of which Bailey could almost feel. She felt bad for her sister, and though she dreaded the smell, she felt obliged to help her Little Sis out.

She helped Berkley lift herself up far enough that she might be able to expel, perhaps not all, but a lot of her mess. She propped one hand under Berkley's arm and another under her thigh. Almost immediately, there was a strong, acrid smell, and the sound of crinkling plastic. Bailey could see the seat of her sister's diaper filling out, bulging and sagging. There were a few more muffled hisses from below, and a sigh from above as Berkley filled her diaper.

Bailey didn't want to think how badly Berkley must have needed to go, because by the time she was finished, there was a considerable bulge, which would have undoubtedly caused the diaper to sag below the skirt if she were to stand up. Bailey lowered her sister back down and felt her tremble as she placed her full weight on the mound she had made. Bailey noticed that her sister now seemed to be a couple of inches taller.

Their mom cracked every window in an attempt to diminish the smell, with moderate success. The smell lessened but didn't exactly dissipate. The windows stayed down for the remainder of the ride home. Berkley didn't seem the least bit embarrassed about having just pooped herself, though she may have been a bit more conscious than the other two about where the smell was coming from.

They got home a little less than an hour later and Beth had immediately changed Berkley. She checked Bailey's diaper however, which was just a little damp, and seemed to decide she wasn't wet enough to warrant changing. She allowed the girls to change out of their absurd outfits. Berkley had taken to wandering around in only a diaper, socks, and a t-shirt lately. Bailey didn't understand why, considering she'd received a onesie and a denim jumper almost two weeks ago, courtesy of their mom.

Bailey wasted no time in putting on a onesie. She felt baby-ish in it, but still felt less exposed than she did in just a diaper and t-shirt. Over the last month, she'd received a couple of new onesies, including a fuzzy white one that actually covered her legs and arms. This was the one she now wore, as it reminded her of what she knew as, "footie pajamas," which could be worn by adults as well. The thing that made the outfit baby-ish, however, was a cartoon pacifier stitched on the chest.

Sometime before supper, Bailey managed to soak her diaper. She didn't really acknowledge it at first, but noticed with some astonishment that Berkley had as well. She knew Berkley had been dry when they sat down to watch some TV, as it had been just after their mom had changed her. She'd even been dry when she'd gotten up to get a bottle, which seemed to be filled with soda. Berkley had evidently wet herself quite heavily without even letting on that she needed to go.

Supper time came and went, and sure enough, Bailey messed herself. This had become routine, and sometimes she'd make herself mess during or after supper, simply because it was when she felt most comfortable doing it. If something is expected, after all, there's little embarrassment associated with doing it. Her mom changed her immediately.

Berkley had her diaper changed shortly thereafter, after having messed herself one more time that day. She, unlike Bailey, didn't have a messing time worked out, as she did it much more often. Sometimes she'd mess shortly after waking up, then again before lunch, and another time after dinner. Other times she'd mess a couple of hours after waking up, then again after lunch, then after supper and once before bed. One time, she'd evidently messed herself in the middle of the night, and had the beginnings of a rash by the time she'd gotten changed. She'd yet to repeat that particular experience.

That day had been one of many so far, but all the days that had come and gone since the beginning of their punishments were only the beginning. From this point, there are many more to come, with Bailey having at least five more months to go, and Berkley having almost an entire year.

Beth had hoped that Berkley would show some sign of dissatisfaction with having to wear diapers all the time, but she gave none. Berkley seemed perhaps happier than she had ever been since the punishment began. She didn't fight as much with Bailey, call her names, or make back-handed remarks toward her or anything of the kind. Sure, the two had a falling out, that much was certain, but none of the bitterness that would usually have followed seemed to have stuck.

Beth wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation; she was even beginning to have doubts about the necessity. Berkley didn't seem to even acknowledge that there was anything wrong with a girl, who would be beginning her senior year in high school in little more than a month's time, wetting and messing diapers, sucking on pacifiers and drinking from bottles. Could she really think this treatment was fun? This was a tough thing for Beth to grasp, because there were few things she wouldn't give to stop being incontinent.

The idea struck Beth all at once and made her smile, though she didn't quite know why it should. It was because of her pregnancy with Berkley that she'd become incontinent at all, and yet Berkley was the only one in the household that didn't need diapers. What was more; Berkley was the only one who wanted them. The idea was vaguely humorous; though Beth was sure she would have found it funnier if she weren't one of the ones who needed diapers.

The night droned on and one by one the lights that shone out beneath every bedroom door; the two upstairs and the one downstairs, clicked off. The last light to click off was the one under Berkley's door. She'd had the light switch turned off for some time, but the dull glow of a computer screen could be clearly seen. When she'd read enough storied to satisfy herself, she turned it off and climbed beneath the covers, her eyes heavy with sleep.

Chapter 2: Back to School, Baby Berkley Bruhn

The summer passed. Berkley became visibly nervous as the weekend preceding her return to school began. Her mom had bought her clothes that were somewhere between childish and adult in nature. Among them, the ones she liked best were a couple of pairs of denim jumper shorts, which were baggy enough that her diapers wouldn't show, even when wet.

What was making her really nervous, however, wasn't that her diapers might show; she was sure her new clothes would prevent that, it was that she might have to do more that pee while at school. It wasn't uncommon for her to go number two during the school day; an issue made no more comforting by the thought of school food, which never sat right with her.

To make matters worse, she'd gotten so comfortable with being able to go to the bathroom whenever and wherever she wanted that she never gave it much thought. Sure, she took into account whether or not she'd be able to get changed soon enough to prevent a rash, but that was one of those things that might slip her mind if she didn't concentrate on it, and she had to be honest with herself, concentrating on anything at all in school was incredibly difficult.

She knew she'd mess herself at school eventually, she'd known it since she'd been told she'd be spending an entire year in diapers, but, "eventually" had always been somewhere far down the line, what seemed years and years away, but now school was just around the corner. She'd meant to give some thought to how she might cover up the smell or prevent it all together. She'd read stories of people taking some form of pill or vitamin or something that would make their poop not stink, or at least less potent, but she didn't even know if those things really existed, or if she could get her hands on some.

It was with graver implications still that she realized she'd been on the verge of messing her diaper while these thoughts ran through her head. She did it anyways, seeing as she couldn't very well go anywhere else, and continued thinking. Try as she might, however, she couldn't think what to do. Her mom had bought her some plastic panties in case of leaks, and had even sewn some thick, flannel-like material into the crotch of her jumpers for added protection. All these precautions, on top of her diapers gave her a noticeable waddle, but she was sure she'd be able to walk normally enough to get by, albeit a bit bowlegged.

As she finished filling her diaper for the third time that evening, less than thirty-six hours before she'd be back at school, she resolved simply to not let herself mess at school if she could avoid it at all. It was a simple plan, and that was what made it so terribly nerve-wracking. She'd spent years thinking around corners and was quite good at it, and if there was one thing she knew, it was that plans that should be simple were always the ones most likely to fail.

Several hours later, she went to sleep; later than she should have, but much earlier than usual. She regrettably couldn't get onto her computer to browse more stories before going to bed, as her mom had insisted she be in bed by eleven, so she could adjust her sleep schedule. The next night she'd be in bed even earlier, maybe by ten, so she could be up at six and at school by seven.

The next day, the last day before school started up again, she woke up at 7:30am. She'd slept a little more than she intended to, but not by much. She intentionally messed herself, filling her diaper as much as she could before asking her mom to change it. She would try her hardest to make it until 3:30pm without messing herself. It would be a bit different than in school, because there would always be that voice in the back of her mind telling her, "It's ok to mess; you're at home."

She'd made it the full eight hours, but only just. She knew that by the eight hour mark on a regular school day, she'd just be getting home after the long walk from school, and realized just how badly Berkley must have needed to go that afternoon she'd condemned Bailey to pseudo-babyhood. With a heavy sigh, she waddled her way downstairs and asked her mom to change her. Asked wasn't quite the right word, however, because her mom didn't always respond to her needs, evident as they might be, unless Berkley cooed at her and tugged at her mom's shirt, like the baby her diapers made her to be.

That night, she didn't mess before bed, though her bowels were already groaning somewhat. When she awoke in the morning, she'd barely returned to consciousness, and registered the alarm clock blasting her favorite rock songs at full volume, when her bowels let loose, filling her diapers with a mixture of solid and semi-solid muck. She almost began to cry, which was how she sometimes had to call her mom to change her. Her mom would sometimes scold her and sometimes say nothing if she let herself out of the crib that had taken place of her bed a few weeks ago. Crying wasn't necessary today, however; before she'd even finished filling her diaper, her mom threw open the door, opened the crib door and was tugging her by the hand down the stairs.

Berkley hopped up onto the changing table, and her mom immediately went to work with the wipes, powder and even a bit of baby oil, which she'd never needed to use before. Within two minutes, she was re-diapered, dressed in her favorite pair of denim jumper shorts, and on her way back upstairs to grab her backpack.

On her way out the door, her mom pulled her aside once again and told her that she'd stop by the school during her lunch hour to see if she needed changed. She then advised Berkley that if she needed to mess, to try to wait until lunch, so she could change her immediately. Berkley nodded, though what she really felt like doing was singing, as this was the best news she'd had in weeks, and ran out the door.

When she arrived at school, Berkley realized for the first time just how self-conscious she felt. She felt her hair, making sure it wasn't in the baby-ish pigtails she'd worn on her only trip out all summer. Her hair was down, as she had truly known it would be. Perhaps all the odd stares she was receiving were in her head, perhaps she was simply imagining them.

Perhaps, but she didn't think so. No, there were definitely more people looking her way than average, though nobody said anything. This was high school after all; nobody talked so somebody they didn't know. This thought offered her even less comfort, as a good many of the people staring she had known, they had been her friends, or at the very least, her acquaintances.

The reason people had been staring at her didn't become evident to Berkley until midway through her second class, when she noticed one of her pacifiers was hanging from a string around her neck. She tucked it in as quickly as she could, cursing herself for not remembering to take it off when she woke up. In the last few weeks, she'd taken to going to bed with a pacifier popped in her mouth; a decision she was now regretting. She hoped nobody in this class had noticed, as there were a couple of good looking guys in that particular class, one of which sat just two chairs away from her.

Luckily, she heard no whispers and saw nobody staring at her in that class, which eased her mind a bit. This brief reprieve was cut short however, as third period rolled along, and most of the way through the class, she felt her bowels groan. The feeling wasn't too strong, but Berkley was well aware that she'd never been really good at holding it in. Admittedly, she had never pooped her pants on accident before, but that was because she always knew to go to the bathroom. That was no longer an option for her, unfortunately.

By the end of fourth period, Berkley wasn't sure she could wait anymore, but she held on. Fifth period, she fought both the urge to mess herself, and the urge to squirm uncontrollably in an effort to keep the worst from happening. If she could just make it until the end of this class, she would be home free. She could mess herself as soon as the bell rang, and would be able to get it changed immediately.

She wasn't gassy in this particular case, but she could feel her body trying to rebel against her. Toward the beginning of class, she'd gone to let out what she thought was just some harmless gas, only to let a small chunk of poop slip on out. She couldn't smell it right off the bat, though she was sure she must be blushing furiously. A few minutes passed before the smell finally permeated her many layers of padding and plastic. It wasn't a powerful smell, and nobody but her would notice it unless they stood right beside her and took a deep whiff.

Despite the small amount of relief the small accident had given her, her bowels were still insisting that they be relieved. Berkley managed to keep it together until the bell rang, at which point she stood up and threw her backpack over her shoulders, and immediately began filling her diaper. She tried not to look too satisfied or too embarrassed, lest somebody start asking questions. She felt the contents of her diaper shift, not unpleasantly, as she walked. She was hardly aware that her backpack, which hung low on her back, kept tapping against the seat of her diaper.

Berkley had to do some quick walking to avoid being seen by a couple of friends she'd yet to talk to since the start of summer. She was nervous somebody might smell her and catch on to her predicament. In class, her small accident had gone more or less unnoticed, but her distinct waddle, coupled with the overpowering smell radiating from her pants would be more than enough to give her away.

At last, she reached the front door of the school, and saw her mom's car. She stepped outside and waddled over to it. Her mom motioned for her to hop in, and she didn't hesitate to comply. They circled around back of the school where the teachers and school buses were parked, and Beth got out.

Beth opened the trunk of the car, and motioned for Berkley to lie down. This wasn't quite what Berkley had been hoping for, but she knew it was at least semi-private; this was more than could be said about the school bathrooms, where many of the stalls had broken, missing, or poorly aligned sliding locks, and anyone could walk in on you.

Berkley lay down, just as her mother had asked. She blushed slightly as her mom slid her jumper off and undid the tapes of her diaper, exposing her secret place to the public momentarily. Within minutes, however, she was cleaned up, re-diapered, and dropped back off at the main entrance. Luckily, her school was pretty lenient about students going out and coming back in during their lunch time, or she'd have needed to go the rest of the day in a messy diaper; at least until ten second into her sixth period class, when somebody would immediately notice that the girl who walked like a baby also seemed to smell like one.

Berkley's last two classes went by reasonably well; a couple of her friends from last year were in her sixth period class, and one of them had even noticed she was walking strangely. Berkley had passed it off as having hurt her hip over the summer, and hinted that it might remain tender for a long time. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep this lie going, but hoped her friends would simply take her at her word and let it go.

After her final class let out, Berkley walked home. There was a bus that would have dropped her off several blocks away from her house, but she never rode it. There was a reason for this; in the time it took for the bus to finally get to her stop, after all the others, she could have easily walked. In addition to the saved time, Berkley wasn't exactly thrilled about the prospect of sitting in such close quarters in her situation.

Before she'd gotten home, she'd paused momentarily and relaxed her bladder one more time; relishing the warmth that spread rapidly between her legs. She sighed, smiled, and walked the rest of the way home. She half hoped her mom would be home, so she could get put in a fresh diaper, and half hoped her mom would be gone, so she could enjoy her newly wet diaper for just a little while longer. Perhaps she'd just slip on inside and hope her mom didn't check her diaper. Even as she had this thought, however, she knew her mom would likely check her diaper as soon as she got home, as well as change her diaper and outfit.

Berkley was therefore unsurprised when she walked into her house, and her mom immediately checked to see if she needed to be changed. First, she had Berkley remove her jumper, then tugged at the rim of her diaper, checking to see if she had messed. Berkley knew she wasn't messy and thus didn't think much of it. She did, however, try to shrink away when her mom wriggled her right index finger into the leg-hole of her diaper. She received a small smack on her padded posterior and allowed her mom to proceed with the diaper check.

Beth withdrew her finger, looked at it, rubbed it contemplatively against her thumb, and hesitated. Finally, she told Berkley that her diaper wasn't too soaked, and that she'd change it in either a few hours or the next time Berkley messed. In the meanwhile, she told Berkley to change out of her school clothes, and back into her baby clothes.

Berkley didn't want to argue; she relished the feeling of a wet diaper. To her, it was almost like being a real baby again. She knew, of course, that she was not a real baby, and never would be again, but this feeling was as close to the real deal as she was likely to get. To her, a wet diaper was a sign of lost control, not just over her bladder, but over all the things that bugged her about life. To some, this lack of control might seem frightening, but Berkley was all too happy to hand the reins of her life over to others, who were more willing and capable of taking control than she was.

After she'd had her diaper checked, Berkley did as she was told and went to the living room, where she saw a change of clothes folded neatly on the changing table. She picked up the top article of clothing, and smiled. It was a purple t-shirt with a picture of a red-haired mermaid in a purple shell-bikini top, swimming alongside a yellow fish. She took off the shirt she was wearing and slipped on the shirt with the mermaid on it. She then grabbed a pair of purple ankle socks off the table and put them on as well. There were no pants on the table, which was fine by Berkley. She liked for her diaper to be exposed; it allowed her to see it, and allowed her mom to be able to visibly assess the damage she did to it.

She removed her jumper, wondered if her mom had intended her to keep wearing it, and shrugged her shoulders. The jumper was semi-babyish, but adults wore jumpers sometimes as well. She figured that if she really wanted to look and feel like a baby, jumpers would have to serve as a choice of clothing only when she needed to make a trip out in public. For all other times, she would either wear nothing over her diapers, or a onesie. Perhaps she might wear something warmer during the winter, but that was all.

She then went back upstairs, pulled the pacifier stung around her neck out of her shirt, popped it in her mouth and locked herself in her room. She then sat down at her desk, pushed the power button of her computer, and waited for it to start up. When it had loaded, she began browsing her favorite sites again, most of which were story-based, while many contained pictures. These sites were usually adult-oriented, so she shouldn't even be browsing them, but she didn't go there for sexual reasons, she went there to read.

Part 6: Out and About

Chapter One: Bailey's Break

It was almost two months into the new school year, and Bailey was beginning to feel cooped up in the house. She'd never been a particularly social person, and had usually been quite content, even in these past months to simply stay at home and do nothing. Unfortunately, with Berkley coming in and going out of the house for school, Bailey was beginning to get a little restless. Non-social though she may be, she wanted to be out and about.

Before her babying, she'd been rather fond of going out to amusement parks and movie theaters, book stores and craft shops, arcades and restaurants. Now, it seemed, she was left home alone, day in and day out. Her mom was free to come and go, and Berkley could at least spend a little time in the outside world, and was undoubtedly making use of this luxury. After all, there were plenty of stores she could stop by between the school and home. True, Berkley had little to no money with which to buy anything, and would likely want to get home quickly to avoid scrutinizing looks from passersby, but she still had that freedom which Bailey had been denied.

A thought blossomed in Bailey's mind then; had she been denied that freedom? She couldn't really remember everything her mom had said to her when explaining her punishment, but she believed there hadn't been any restrictions on where she could go. After all, she, like Berkley, had several outside outfits, which would allow them, for the most part at least, to blend with society. What use would these outfits be, if she could not go out?

Bailey resolved to make a small venture to a nearby store, but to be back before her mother or sister got home. She knew her mom, who had just left a little while ago, would be back in about two hours. Two hours, Bailey thought, would be more than enough time to stretch her legs. She had, after all, been cooped up in the house for much too long.

She put on one of the jumpers she'd received for this very reason. It looked perhaps a bit more babyish than Berkley's, as it was more form-fitting, and showed what the wary eye could hardly mistake as anything but a diaper. In addition to this embarrassing feature, there was pink embroidery along the edge of the pockets, as well as a small patch of cloth, stitched onto the right leg, which read in very small print, "Remember: There's Never a Bad Time for a Change." This could be taken in any number of ways, but the words were flanked by two very cartoonish diapers. The tag was very small, and well below eye level for anyone old enough to get the reference, so Bailey didn't feel too embarrassed about it.

She grabbed her house key, checked her diaper, which was slightly wet, but manageable, gave herself a quick look in the mirror. She decided that as long as nobody noticed the telltale bulge of her diaper, she might be able to come off as an immature teenager, rather than an adult baby. At this, she swept out the door, into the outside world for the first time in weeks. She breathed in the fresh summer air, which was beginning to cool as the summer drew to a close, smiled and took her first steps across the yard, towards the street.

Minutes later, she found herself approaching a store she'd passed by innumerable times on her way to and from school. It was a small, Mom and Pop store, called "The Sincerity Shoppe." Bailey had never set foot in this store before, and felt safe that nobody she'd known in High School would see her there.

As she'd imagined, most of the employees were older women, who seemed delighted that anyone had come into their store. Bailey felt a little uncomfortable, as a couple of them came right up to her and began asking her if they could help her find anything. She declined, but the women began leading her around the shop, showing off the simple displays of homemade candles, baskets, and chairs on one side of the store, and then the homegrown tomatoes, carrots and strawberries on the other. It was with dismay that Bailey realized she had wet her diaper again, and that it had swelled considerably without her notice.

She backed out of the store, thanked the ladies for their time, and began walking briskly down the street. It had barely been fifteen minutes since she'd left the house, and she wasn't about to let a wet diaper ruin her time away from the house. She had, after all, been wearing and wetting diapers for years, and more often than not, she'd been in a public place when she'd done it. Now, if she had to poop, on the other hand, she'd be darting home as soon as she could. Some people might suspect a bulge, brought about by a thick diaper, and made thicker by a bladder's worth of pee. More often than not, however, they'd glance over her, and move on. If she messed herself, however, that is something people would notice.

Bailey was getting hungry; she'd not had a proper breakfast, and it was passing lunch time. She had a few dollars in the pocket of her jumper, so she looked around for a place to eat. It had been a while since she'd had fast food, unless you counted the Kid's Meal her mom had bought for her a week ago. She spotted a burger joint, went in and got in line. She recognized a couple of the worker in the back, working the fryers and sweeping up the excess salt, and hoped they'd keep away from the register. The woman working the register was a bitter-looking woman, wearing a manager shirt. Bailey could understand why the woman looked so bitter; she was at least forty years old and working in a fast food restaurant.

Bailey placed her order, handed over the money, and stepped aside to wait for her food. She looked around, and saw another couple of people she recognized from school, sitting in a booth, talking animatedly. She turned aside, and hoped nobody would recognize her from that angle. When her food came, she took a boot as far from the couple she recognized as she could get. It wasn't a large restaurant, so this still wasn't very far. She sat down and began to eat.

When she was nearly finished, she felt a hand drop onto her shoulder, and nearly choked on the food she had been about to swallow. She turned, coughing, to face the person who's happened across her. It just so happened to be an old classmate of hers, from about her sophomore year. How he'd recognized her when her appearance had changed so drastically since then, she had no idea, but she had other things to worry about. Among the pressing matters on her mind was the fact that she now had a very slight urge to poop. Fast food always had this effect on her; it may have just been a psychological effect, but fast food always seemed to make her gassy, and acted as a bit of a laxative for her.

"Hi there," the boy said, smiling.

Bailey tried to recall the boy's name, and thought she had it, as she said, "Oh, hey! You're...Tim, right?"

"Eric," the boy replied, his lips parting, showing some very straight, very white teeth.

"I was in your geometry class sophomore year, remember?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah! What have you been up to?" She asked, shifting slightly in her seat. She could feel her stomach churning as it swelled with gas, which would soon be making a rather unpleasant departure, whether she liked it or not. She tried to be pleasant enough; so far as she knew, Eric had never been rude to her, and was certainly not being rude now.

"Oh, not much; I got a job as a photographer just after High School. It's not much really, and they don't schedule me s often as I'd like, but it puts money in my pocket. How about you? What've you been up to, Bailey?" he asked, his green eyes flashing.

Bailey absentmindedly rubbed her stomach, and thought to herself, "What have I been doing? I've been sucking on a pacifier, drinking milk from a bottle, sleeping in a crib, and let's not forget the highlight of my day; shitting in a diaper, only to have my mom change me, like I'm a baby!"

"Nothing," she said.

"Ah, that doesn't sound like very much fun," he replied, giving a joking frown.

"Perhaps I should take you out to eat sometime, so that you can turn that ‘nothing' into a ‘something.' Oh, perhaps I'm getting a bit ahead of myself though; you are single, yes? You don't have boyfriend who'll track my down and manhandle me for asking you out, right?"

Bailey went very red, partly because of what was being said, and partly because she'd let a bit of gas escape, which he'd surely have heard, had he not been talking. She didn't really know what to say; this boy was quite nice and not at all bad looking. She, however, knew her mom wouldn't like it if she wanted to go out on a date.

"No boyfriend, but I do need to check a few things before I say yes, can I get your number? I can call you when I have an answer."

Eric smiled again, showing several of her straight, white teeth, "Of course, as long as I can have yours."

The two of them exchanged numbers, written on a napkin. Eric smiled at her, bowed dramatically and walked away, out the door. As soon as Bailey was sure he was gone, she allowed the built-up gas out in a very loud, very unladylike fashion. This was quite alright by her, as she'd never really considered herself a lady. Sure, she liked jewelry, and she liked make-up, but that was about as far as her girly side went.

She looked at the clock on the wall, saw that well over an hour had passed, and stood up. She felt her bowels moan and groan, and decided it would be prudent to head home. She cleared off the table, stuffed Eric's phone number into the pocket of her jumper, and walked out the door. She could feel her diaper sagging, looked down, and noticed that it was even more bulky than it had been when after she'd wet herself a little while ago in the store. She set off, trying not to waddle too much, and failing miserably.

As she approached her house, she was pleased to see that her mom had still not gotten home. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and re-locked it behind her. She removed the jumper, and looked down at her exposed diaper. She was semi-surprised to see how much it had swelled. Evidently, she'd managed to wet several times, and in larger than usual quantities without even realizing it. That was another drawback of fast food restaurants; she always drank way too much soda. Her meal had come with a large, 32 ounce drink, and she'd managed to down it all.

She tried to hold off messing herself, and managed to for about an hour. She thought her mom would have been home by then, and would be able to change her as soon as she got back. Unfortunately, she was still all alone when she couldn't hold back the mudslide anymore, and filled the seat of her diaper. As always, she was disgusted by the feeling and the smell, but by now she'd grown to expect it. She'd resigned herself to the reality of her punishment and all that it entailed a long time ago.

She sat down in the living room and began watching TV, hoping that her mom would hurry up with whatever it was she was doing, and get back. She didn't like sitting down in a messy diaper, but it was better than walking around the house for who knew how long, letting her sagging diaper shift uncomfortably with every movement she made.

It was another hour and a half before her mom got home, and frustratingly, she'd even picked up Berkley from school, rather than have her walk home. This irritated Bailey, because she was sure she'd be developing a rash before long, and her mom had taken the time to pick up Berkley. Sure, her mom had no way of knowing Bailey had been sitting in her own mess for nearly two hours, but it was the kind of thing that might be expected to happen from time to time, in a house where bathrooms were kept locked, and self-performed diaper changed were forbidden.

Beth had barely put down her purse, and Berkley had barely put down her back pack, when they began sniffing the air. Evidently, they'd noticed the distinct smell wafting from the living room. Beth sent Berkley upstairs, and walked across the living room to where Bailey was still sitting, watching TV and looking sour.

Bailey felt her arm being tugged, and looked up at her mom, who was standing over her. She got up, and groaned as her mom checked her diaper, as if it wasn't obviously yellow-tinted and reeking of the mess it contained. She followed her mom to the changing table, climbed up, and folded her arms tightly. Only after she realized that this was exactly how real toddlers behave when they're unhappy did she relax her arms and stop looking so stony.

It took longer than normal for the diaper change to finish, as there was a lot more than usual to clean; Bailey's messes were usually pretty solid, and very fresh. More often than not, she'd barely sat in it at all, but this time, it was quite runny, and she'd sat down and shifted into any number of positions, which had allowed the mess to find its way into every crevice of her skin, from back to front. She'd evidently been in the early stages of developing diaper rash, as the skin was tender, and somewhat pink. Her mom put some ointment on it, and powdered her extra well before taping her into her new diaper.

A few hours later, after supper, and Bailey's second messing of the day, Bailey got her mom alone. There she told her mom of her trip out, and how she wasn't sure if she was allowed these excursions into the outside world or not. She was therefore happy to hear that, since she had been honest, she was allowed, as long as she remained diapered and did not attempt to change herself; any attempt to break these rules would add another month to her punishment, minimum. Bailey was half-tempted to remind her mom that she would have needed to be diapered anyways, as she had no control of her bladder, but thought it best not to say anything that might upset her and remove this privilege.

Immediately following this conversation, Bailey went upstairs where she wasted no time in calling Eric. He agreed to pick her up that Friday, but not wanting sure how her mom would react, she told him to pick her up from the burger joint. They hung up, and she fell backward onto her bed, sighing. This would be her first date since her sophomore year, although she knew she had nothing more impressive to wear than her jumper shorts. Even knowing this, she couldn't help but to smile. This was the first thing that had gone right since before her birthday.

She was so happy and eager for Friday to come, and yet so exhausted from the day's events, that she fell asleep much earlier than she normally would have. As she drifted off, her mind was no longer thinking of how long her punishment had left, or of any other thing that had plagued her in recent weeks; she thought only of how things were going right.

Chapter 2: Blissful Berkley

Berkley was ecstatic. In all her life, there could be no question, that these were the happiest days she'd had so far. Her mood, in fact, was so good, and her outlook on everything was so positive, that she was doing very well in school, had completed every homework assignment splendidly, and had even managed to type up a few pages for a story of her own, which she would post on one of her sites in a few months, when she would be old enough to view them legally.

She didn't feel her story was nearly as good as some of them she'd read, but those stories, the really good ones, would serve as an aspiration. Someday, she hoped, she'd be just as good. For the time being, however, she had many months in which she may write, and rewrite her stories, and fine tune the ones she thought might be going somewhere. Aside from her stories though, she had more pressing matters.

She couldn't be sure, but she thought somebody might have guessed she was wearing a diaper. Earlier that day, she'd been careless, and had begun messing herself almost a full minute before the bell, which would mean lunchtime for most, and a change for herself, rang. She'd just managed to produce what she could feel was a decent sized mound, giggled slightly to herself and turned aside. She saw a young man staring at her with an eyebrow raised. A second later, his nostrils flared, and he began to look around before returning his gaze to Berkley.

Berkley could feel her face going red, and as soon as the bell rang, she clambered for the door. She gave a brief glance behind her, and saw a few people sniffing around, looking quite disgusted. Nobody except the one boy seemed to be able to guess the source, but Berkley had no intention of sticking around to let him or anyone else follow her. She made several detours through hallways leading away from the parking lot, in case the boy did try to follow. When she felt she'd moved around enough to shake off anyone, she made a beeline for the parking lot.

She didn't think she'd ever been happier to be put in a fresh diaper. For the rest of the school day, she kept an eye out for the boy, ready to take a sharp turn if ever she saw him. Unfortunately, the hallways were always so crowded, that she passed by him once or twice, and didn't register his presence until she was right up on him. Fortunately, she seemed to be more on the lookout for him, than he was for her, and he never looked at her for the rest of the day, let alone stop and question her.

Once her final class had let out, she began her long walk home. Along the way, she stopped by a couple of stores, including "The Sincerity Shoppe." Just a couple of blocks from her house, however, her mom pulled up beside her in the van, and asked her if she would mind coming along with her for some errands she needed to run. Her mom promised her the errands wouldn't take long, and would be to her benefit. Hoping to get some sort of reward for coming with her mom and helping out, Berkley agreed and hopped into the passenger seat.

Berkley hadn't imagined that the errands her mom needed to run were to simply pick up some more groceries and that the benefits she'd been promised were simply to pick out what snack foods they'd buy. Berkley couldn't help but to feel a little annoyed that she'd missed out on some good writing time, only so she could have some candy.

The whole way home, Berkley thought more and more of the plot of her story in progress, and barely spared a second thought as she soaked her diaper. It wasn't until they were all the way home, and she'd climbed out of the van that she realized just how much she'd wet. Her diaper must have swelled to three times the usual thickness, and now sagged heavily between her thighs. With a smile, she saw the distinct outline of her diaper through the jumper she wore. She patted it absentmindedly, relishing the heaviness and the warmth.

When the two of them got inside, she knew immediately that Bailey was in terrible need of a diaper change. Her mom seemed to understand this as well, and beckoned her upstairs. Berkley, of course, didn't hesitate. She absolutely loved the feeling, and the smell of a wet diaper. The smell of a wet diaper is much more subtle than a messy diaper, and it should go without saying, much more pleasant.

She went upstairs, put her school stuff down, and immediately sat down at her computer desk. She waited for it to start up, and when it had, she had to resist pulling up her favorite web pages. No, this time, she wanted to sit a write her own stories. There were one or two she'd begun writing already, but she didn't really see either of them going anywhere. Every scenario she could come up with seemed to have been done half a million times before.

There were stories of punishment, stories of secrecy, stories of incontinence, stories of domination, and stories of fulfillment. Though she knew these things, and knew them very well, she couldn't escape their presence. She'd start to write something, wanting it to be truly original and end up with an overly-used plot. It seemed there were only a few ways in which a diaper story might go, which disappointed her. She resolved, therefore, to write a short story with no particular plot, and slowly implement diapers into it. So far as she could tell, such a story was far from common, as most writers, for whatever reason, insisted on jumping straight into the diapers. This was all well and good, of course, but not something Berkley was overly fond of.

A couple of hours passed, and Berkley had gotten no further than the middle of the second page. Less than half an hour into her writing, she'd been unable to resist and had opened up her web browser, and begun browsing her favorite stories. Always the hopeless romantic that she was, her stories focused on a central character, who somehow wound up in diapers, and later discovered by someone else, who either immediately accepted them or came to accept them later on. It didn't matter to her if the main character was male and discovered by a woman, female and discovered by a man, male and discovered by a man, or female discovered by a woman. Berkley loved them all; the embarrassment, the secrecy, but most importantly the unconditional love.

After the couple of hours had passed since she'd begun her writing, Berkley began to feel the familiar rumbling in her stomach and bowels that told her that before too long, she'd need a diaper change. She knew that by now, her mother was in the process of cooking supper, and that Bailey would probably have first dibs on an after dinner diaper change, but she didn't care. Berkley was not as fond of messing as she was of wetting, though it was certainly the more frequently experienced of the two. She wish that, like her sister, she wet more frequently than messed, but knew there was nothing she could do about it.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Berkley knew that she now pooped more frequently than she had before being made to wear diapers. She'd always needed to poop more frequently than her sister, and more often than many of her friends as well. In fact, Berkley pooped more often than anyone she knew, sometimes was many as five times a day, though usually not as much as that. Her bowel movements were usually fairly small, but not much smaller than average. It was her metabolism that caused it, as well as her diet. She ate frequently, but never put on much weight, because her metabolism seemed to be in overdrive.

After another ten minutes had passed, and Berkley's story had progressed no further than a couple of lines, she made up her mind to relieve herself of her most pressing distraction. Never having mastered the ability to mess herself while sitting, though she'd read stories that seemed to imply this ability came easily, she stood up. She squatted, as a toddler who knows they need to poop, but has not yet been toilet trained might, and pushed. She sighed with relief as she felt the heavy mass of solid waste fill the seat of her diaper, which bulged and sagged. Berkley then felt her bladder release, as a fresh stream of urine hissed into the already damp material between her thighs. She hadn't really meant to wet, but thought nothing of it; that was what the diaper was there for, after all.

Berkley took her place back at the desk, and didn't even flinch as the mess she'd just made was flattened with her full weight on it. She could feel it, yes, but had grown used to the sensation. A couple of months ago, she might have felt a shiver run down her spine as the mess spread throughout the entirety of the padded area, kept in place by the leak guards, but now, over a hundred messy diapers later, it didn't matter to her in the slightest. With only the distracting presence of her favorite stories remaining, Berkley was finally able to make some progress with her story.

By the time supper rolled an hour later, Berkley had written almost four more pages. It may not have seemed long in comparison to some of the stories she'd read, which were many times as long, but to her, it seemed an awful lot. She stood up to go downstairs and felt the sticky contents of her diaper shift, as the mess that clung to her cheeks peeled away and dropped down into the seat of the diaper. She gave herself a quick look-over, and blushed crimson as she realized the entire seat of her diaper was brown, and the entire crotch, all the way up to the waistband was pale yellow. If ever her mom had thought her a baby, it was nothing to how she looked now.

As it turned out, Beth was so shocked by Berkley's state that she insisted on changing her before supper. When she asked Berkley how long ago she'd messed herself, Berkley simply told her that she wasn't quite sure. This was quite true, as Berkley hadn't really been too worried about documenting when she used her diaper, no more than a regular person might worry about jotting down the time they used the toilet. True as the statement might have been, Beth looked appalled. In all the time her daughters had been diapered, neither of them had been unable to recall with any degree of certainty how much time had elapsed since they'd soiled themselves.

Though Berkley had a vague idea of when she'd messed though without any true certainty, she'd not told her mom this. For whatever reason, she'd opted for what was little more than a shrug of the shoulders. Berkley didn't know this, but her mom had taken this to mean that Berkley hadn't noticed she'd messed until after the deed had been done. This would come back to bite her in the least padded part of her butt in the near future, but for now, Berkley would remain ignorant of her danger.

As much as Berkley enjoyed the sensations brought on by a wet and messy diaper, she couldn't help but to feel an overwhelming sense of relief as her mom changed her into a fresh, dry diaper. She took in the sterile smell, and the way the diaper fit the curves of her body like it was the first time she'd experienced them. That was far from the case, obviously, having used at least three diapers a day, sometimes more, over the last several weeks. It was just as Berkley got to her feet again that she realized she'd been in diaper for almost exactly two months. The thought excited her, but it was at this point that she wondered what would happen when her year was up and it was time for the diapers to come off.

This alarmed her slightly, as her mom was still at least semi-convinced that forcing her to wear diapers was a punishment, whereas Berkley thoroughly enjoyed it. Berkley knew her mom suspected she wasn't really feeling the punishment, but thought she might come around eventually. After all, no seventeen year old wants to wear diapers any more than they might want to go back to eating puréed vegetables. Berkley felt she could do without the vegetables, but she wanted to wear diapers a million times more than she wanted to wear her old, boy short panties. She could take or leave the rest of the baby treatment; it made no difference to her if she wore jeans and a t-shirt, or the short-all jumper her mom had bought for her, just as it made no difference if she drank her milk from a cup or a bottle.

Berkley was genuinely concerned that her mom might not let her keep wearing diapers after the year was out. She'd never read a story in which such a punishment had ever been taken to term, and knew that if such a story were to exist somewhere, as it doubtlessly did, it would likely be horrendously short or otherwise terribly written, else it would never be finished; it seemed all the best writers never finished their stories. She didn't know why this was the case, only that the best stories were the ones that just kept growing until they died, never having reached full maturity.

Part 7: Happy Days

Chapter 1: Dynamic Dating

It was Friday morning, and Bailey stood staring at her own reflection in the small square mirror that hung from a bent nail in her room. Normally, if she wished to make herself look pretty, or rather prettier as should be said, as she was not exactly an unattractive young lady as it was, she would spend an inordinate amount of time in front of the much larger mirror in the bathroom. Unfortunately, this simple pleasure was denied to her, and she had to make use of the resources available to her.

Bailey had awoken over an hour ago, and she had thus far only managed to brush the tangles out of her hair. This was a bit of a challenge in itself, as she hadn't brushed her hair in quite a long time. Pretty as she may be, it was something she simply never really cared about enough to put much effort into it, when she knew her mom would be along to shortly to put her hair in absurdly childish pig-tails. This day was special, however, and so she felt it might be prudent to at least make her look as presentable as may be, when all the most convenient means of doing so were locked behind a simple plywood door.

When she'd at last satisfied herself that her teeth were still white and even, and that her eyelashes were full and shapely, she set about the arduous task of altering the jumper in the only way she thought her mom might not notice; by removing the absurd the absurd embroidery which reminded her that, "There's Never a Bad Time for a Change." If she had tweezers or even a simple knife, she could have removed the threads which made up the embarrassing message easily, but she had neither. After trying for a quarter of an hour to pluck out a thread with her fingernails, she began to bite at it.

Another quarter of an hour later, she was disheartened, but not quite ready to give it up as a bad job. Instead, she removed the mirror from the wall, and tugged at the stubby nail that held it up. To her surprise, the nail came out easily, and a few seconds later, she'd loosened a few threads from the embroidery. Less than five minutes later, she'd succeeded in completely removing the message which would have easily given away her situation to the wary eye. She suspected that Eric might have such an eye for details, which was something she'd have to keep on her toes about.

Bailey spent the next few hours tidying up every last detail of her looks which she could manage. This would have been a lot simpler, if the better part of her makeup were not locked away in the linen closet of the bathroom, to which she had no lock. She did, however, managed to find a stick of her eye liner, as well as some lip gloss and even a hair clip, tucked away behind her dresser. Evidently sometime in the distant past, she'd sat the cosmetic products on the top of her dresser, and knocked them back behind it. It had to have been the distant past, because the eyeliner she now wore was a brand she'd not bought since the last time she'd been asked out.

Make no mistake; it was quite a chore for Bailey to keep clear of her mom whilst she cleaned herself up. Once or twice, she only just managed to avoid her mom's suspicious glare by pretending she was heading back upstairs to her room, when she'd been hoping to retrieve a bottle of lotion or some other necessity from downstairs. It was only by careful navigation, and on at least one occasion, a planned distraction that she managed to get everything she needed to make herself jump from pretty to downright gorgeous.

Bailey worried that she might thoroughly soak her diaper before it was time to meet Eric up by the restaurant and would need to ask her mom for a change, which would undoubtedly lead to uncomfortable questions, and may prevent her from meeting Eric at all. By some miracle, however, she managed to remain entirely dry. Admittedly, she'd just been changed shortly after waking, having woken up in a diaper that was very wet and still a little warm as well. That didn't guarantee, however, that she'd be dry come the bit hour, but she was, and she left the house with a smile on her face.

As promised, Eric met her up by the restaurant. He told her he'd just gotten there himself, but Bailey suspected he'd been there for quite a while already, maybe hoping she'd be early as well, and they could have a longer date.

Eric, it seemed, was just as excited for the date as Bailey herself. He was dressed up, looking as handsome as any man, so young that the stubble on his face might not rightly be called a beard, may hope to look. His short, dark hair was combed smartly, and he was wearing a grey, long sleeved, button-down shirt, a deep red tie, and even a vest, grey like the shirt, but darker. A look passed between the two in which each felt inadequate compared with the other, and both blushed a deep red.

Eric, in a display that might look goofy done by many others, but managing to look serious and impressive as he did so, put one hand across his waist, the other behind his back, and bowed. Then he stood up straight, smiled slightly, and bent his elbow, so she might take his arm. She did, and he led her to his car.

The car was a little less impressive, but not by much. The car was a simple four-door Dodge, and was dark grey, like his clothes. The car wasn't old, but it was clearly a far stretch from new. Eric tried to look every bit a gentleman as he opened the door for her, but failed to do so as the door stuck. He ended up using both hands to tug it open, which meant Bailey had to release his arm. She didn't mind though, and giggled as she watched.

Twenty minutes and a fairly long drive later, the pair of them pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant, the name of which was in Italian, which Bailey couldn't read, let alone pronounce. It looked impressive enough, though not overtly expensive. Bailey had seen expensive restaurants before, and had eaten at them once or twice, and this was not one of them, though she expected the bill would be far more than she'd usually pay for a meal. Bailey could only hope that she didn't embarrass herself, or moreover embarrass Eric, by accident.

Bailey wasn't worried that her diaper might leak; it was dry for the time being, at least for the most part. Slight warmth between her thighs and moisture that hadn't been there earlier told her that she was at least a little wet, though the wetness was far less than usual, and she might still empty a full bladder twice over without risking a leak. The odds of her wetting more than that in the time it would take her to eat a meal, even slowly as she might do in this case, would be slim.

By the time they'd been seated and their entrées had arrived, Bailey's diaper had taken one thorough wetting, as well as several extended spurts. It was not her diaper, however that had her attention; it was Eric. He'd begun talking about himself and the things he did, his family and his friends. If Bailey had questions, he answered with little hesitation, and if Bailey showed any sign of wanting to say something, he was all too willing to let her.

When the food arrived, the conversation took a back seat, and when it was gone and they were stuffed, Bailey took her turn at explaining herself. Admitted, she brushed over her incontinence as well as the punishment her mom had imposed on her and Berkley. She knew that if Eric and she got into a real relationship, she might be required to mention the former, though hopefully Eric would never know about the latter.

Bailey began to feel the first tingling that she might need to do a little bit more than wetting shortly after they'd placed their dessert orders. Luckily it was just a slight urge, which was manageable. Sure, her control might have slipped a bit since she was forced to use her diapers as her sole means of relieving herself, but she could still last an hour or so before the need became pressing, and maybe an hour and a half before the need became too much to bear, and she would inevitably mess herself. She suspected her control might not have slipped as much as it had if she'd not resolved to make the best of a bad situation, and not struggle when the need struck.

Ten minutes later their desserts arrived, and another twenty passed before they were both done. Bailey had virtually inhaled her own dessert in the hopes that Eric would follow suit, which he apparently felt unnecessary. Instead, he took his dear sweet time and the result was that almost forty-five minutes had passed since she felt the first tingle before they'd paid the check, or rather, Eric paid the check, and they were both off. Bailey could feel the storm brewing in her body and knew that by the time Eric had dropped her off, she would almost be bursting. With any luck, however, she wouldn't embarrass herself entirely.

The drive home was bad, as far as Bailey could remember it. Eric had apparently picked up that something was wrong within the first five minutes of pulling onto the highway. Bailey tried to claim she had a migraine and just wanted to get home so she could take some medicine, but Eric wasn't fooled. He wasted no time in pointing out that people with headaches, even migraines, were more concerned with the pain in their head and were less apt to clutch at their stomachs.

He asked if she felt sick, but backed off and went oddly quiet when she said she didn't feel well, but that she wasn't nauseous. Bailey couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she saw a slight smile on his face.

Eric dropped her off down the street from her house, but didn't stick around to make sure she got home alright. Under normal circumstances, she'd have invited him to walk her home, but under the circumstances of her punishment, she wasn't sure that would be a good idea. She wasn't sure if her mom was home, and if she was, Bailey was almost certain that she wouldn't approve of her "Baby Girl" going out on a date.

In any case, punishment or no punishment, Bailey was quite glad that Eric had driven off as fast as he had. She'd known from the time she'd left the restaurant that she'd be desperate to go by the time she got home, but she'd at least thought she'd get home before she messed. On that account, she was dead wrong.

Bailey knew her body well enough, as well as any adult does, and before Eric's tail lights had even disappeared around the corner, she knew she was going to mess herself. The need was so pressing and so urgent and so very crystal clear that she squatted in plain sight in the full light of day. She felt the terrible weight in her stomach disappear as a warm heaviness filled the seat of her diaper. It took several minutes to finish the deed, and by the time she was done, her thighs were sore, but the relief outweighed it all.

Unlike Berkley, Bailey didn't enjoy messing herself in the slightest bit; she hated the warm ball which caused her diaper to sag and which produced that all too nauseating smell which seeped through her clothes and up her nose and stayed there unless she kept moving, keeping the foul smell trailing behind her like a cartoon skunk. However, if there was a messing to be had, she would prefer to do it in the privacy of her own home. There at least, the only people who would see her do it and smell the aftermath would be her sister Berkley, who seemed to enjoy these things which Bailey herself detested so much, and her mom, who was the reason she had to mess her diapers anyways.

If it were not possible to reach her house and do her business there, Bailey thought, she'd rather mess herself a hundred times, squatting in the street, than have Eric see her do it even once. With this thought in mind, Bailey walked home smiling, despite the shifting weight which hung between her thighs.

When she got home, she was pleased to see that her mom was there. This meant she could get changed immediately, unlike the previous day where she'd been stuck for a couple of hours in a soggy, messy diaper. Her mom asked her where she'd been for the last two and a half hours, but Bailey simply replied that she'd been out, having fun. Her mom didn't need to check to make sure Bailey had remained diapered, as the evidence was in front of her eyes.

Bailey sighed contentedly as soon as her mom had removed the diaper, and again when the fresh diaper had been put in place. She'd rather have had no diaper for a change, she'd had it up to her ears with diapers, but knew that she'd still be wearing them for years and years, long after the punishment was over, simply because her stupid bladder released at random times, usually without any warning, and often without even being full.

Chapter 2: Being Berkley

October came and was drawing to an end by the time Berkley's diapered state finally caught up with her. It had been three months since the two girls had been made to wear diapers and dress as babies at home and as little more than toddlers when venturing into the wider world and Berkley had gotten a little careless. Nobody had seen her diapers exactly, but somebody had seen something.

Berkley had wet herself in class one day, which was something she now seemed to do every day. Much like how Bailey's bowel control was slipping, Berkley had gotten a little too accustomed to wetting when the urge struck, and now found herself doing it simply because she could. It might not rightly be called incontinence; she still had the urge to pee, and when she recognized this, could hold it for many hours. Instead, it might be more incompetence than incontinence, as she never really seemed to know when it might or might not be a good idea to use her diapers.

She'd wet herself with little to no thought; it was something she just did now, no questions asked. Then, when she stood up to leave class after that particular class was over, she felt something tickling her leg; something tricking down her leg. She looked down with dawning horror as her eyes fell upon a dark streak, no more than an inch wide that fell down the leg of her jumper, almost to her knees. Her diaper had leaked.

She waited for the rest of her classmates to leave, under the impression that this would make things easier; the thought that she might blend in better in a crowd had never crossed her mind. Instead, she had lingered, and when the teacher asked her if she had a question, she shook her head. Nervously, she got to her feet again, having sat down again when she realized her situation, and pulled her backpack on before heading toward the door. As she turned to face the door, however, her teacher said something that made her face burn.

"Berkley? Did you have an accident?" the teacher had asked with genuine concern in his voice.

Berkley had been hoping the teacher wouldn't notice the small patch of wet fabric dripping down her leg, but it was only now that she realized that she'd been sitting while she wet, so most of the wetness had not been concentrated between her legs, but pooled around her butt. She placed a hand absentmindedly over her rear and felt the damp fabric.

"Are you feeling alright, Berkley? Do you need to see the nurse? Maybe we can get hold of your mother." The teacher continued, as if this were something that happened every day.

"I-I'll be a-alright," Berkley replied, her voice weak and shaky. Her diapers had never leaked in the three months she'd been using them. In fact, she could only recall a couple of times in which Bailey's had leaked, and she'd been wearing diapers day and night for several years. Berkley's bladder was stronger, however, and in extreme cases, she could keep peeing for almost two minutes straight. She hadn't done that this time, however, though she had peed quite a lot very quickly. Evidently she hadn't given the diaper enough time to soak it all up, and it had leaked.

Berkley let her backpack hang a little lower than usual, which hid the majority of the dampness and walked down the hall to the nurse's office. She didn't know what to tell the nurse, who had no idea she was wearing a diaper. She remembered back in elementary school when anyone had an accident, how the nurse would have them wear a pair of the school's pants. This was high school, however, and that meant things had to be different. Then again, Berkley couldn't remember anyone else wetting or messing themselves in high school, and had no real idea what would happen.

She was glad to learn that instead of having to wear a pair of the school's pants, her mom was called and brought her a fresh jumper. She followed her mom to the van, where her mom removed her wet jumper. Instead of changing her immediately, her mom encouraged her to try to mess, as she didn't want to stop by the school twice, and it was simpler just to get on with it now, or else risk messing herself in the middle of class. After all, Berkley almost never made it through the whole day without messing.

Berkley did as her mom told her. It was easy enough; Berkley had already needed to poop as it was, but had been trying not to, seeing as the nurse was standing just across the room from her. She hardly even had to try before she felt the familiar, comforting weight easing its way into the soft padding that awaited it. She sighed with relief as she pushed the remainder out, and without thinking, placed a hand over the back of her exposed diaper, feeling the bulge with satisfaction. She caught her mom's criticizing gaze, and pulled her hand away fast.

Her mom didn't say anything as she changed her. Berkley simply lay there smiling; why shouldn't she? After all, Berkley was enjoying this punishment, if it could be called one. She thought if anyone was displeased about the whole situation, it must be the woman who was changing her at that very moment. Beth always looked so sour nowadays, when before she always seemed so happy. Berkley knew why her mom was trying to punish her; Beth was incontinent, Bailey was virtually as incontinent as Beth, and Berkley had been found wearing a diaper, despite not needing one. She was being punished for enjoying the same thing Beth and Bailey suffered from.

Berkley got through the rest of the day with no problem. For once, she was able to enjoy lunch without having to take a detour to the parking lot. Other than the leak, there were no more issues for the remainder of her day at school. She did wet herself a little bit more towards the end of the day, despite having wet more than enough to leak, but only a little.

She remained hopeful, if not completely convinced that nobody at school, aside from her teacher and the school nurse, had seen the wet spot on her pants. She had no choice but to hope, because the alternative, that somebody had seen her with wet patch on her but which took a distinct double crescent pattern, would be bad. It would be bad enough if somebody thought she'd wet her pants, but it would be far worse if somebody recognized the pattern for what it really was: a wet diaper that had leaked around the leg holes.

Berkley didn't need to worry about that, however, at least not for the time being. It was the weekend, and that meant she had two whole days, in addition to the remainder of this one, to work on her story. The story had progressed quite far in the past few weeks, and was now over thirty pages long. She'd have been a bit further, but she wanted to ensure everything was perfect. It was still almost five months until her birthday, when she planned to post the story in its entirety, but by then she was hoping to have over one-hundred pages.

Her story wasn't really an original one; she'd based the main character on herself, though she was sure most of the readers, who would undoubtedly be male, would never believe it. In the story, she'd been caught in a messy diaper by her sister, whom she'd made much younger, and switched around a few details. She'd made her sister, whom she named Haley, a four year old who was having trouble with her potty training, which in real life had been her own issue. She'd also changed her own name to Delilah. Like herself, however, she was a diaper lover, and had tried on one of her sister's diapers, used it, and thrown it away, and later on had been caught in another by her sister.

She planned to work on the plot a lot more before she posted the story online. That wouldn't be until early March, so she had time enough to work out the plot a bit and make it a bit more original. What she was really worried about was the story being discovered before it was written, edited and finally posted.

Once again, Berkley messed herself while working on the story. It wasn't a large messing, and didn't particularly smell foul, but it was noticeable enough for her mom to perform a diaper check before allowing Berkley to eat. Strangely, her mom didn't change her immediately, and said she'd do it after supper. This was virtually unheard of, as after dinner was Bailey's unofficial changing time, unless she'd already messed earlier. What struck Berkley as particularly odd was that until now, she'd always been permitted a change as soon as she wanted, unless her mom was busy. Never before had her mom expressed the notion that she could wait.

Even after supper was over, Beth didn't immediately opt to change Berkley out of her messy diaper. The reasoning for this was, "You can't expect to be changed at the drop of a hat; you'll have to get used to waiting sometimes." This seemed like something out of one of her stories, where the "Baby" would be made to sit in a wet or messy diaper for far too long. Admitted, Berkley's diaper was only a little damp and only had a small amount of poop squished between her cheeks, roughly the size of a fun sized candy bar.

Berkley went up to her room to wait for the time when her mom would feel up to changing her. It was probably a good thing her mom had waited, because within a quarter of an hour, she'd begun to once again fill the seat of her diaper. She couldn't quite explain it, but the urge had come on quite suddenly. It hadn't been entirely overwhelming, but if she'd already been changed, she had no doubt her mom would have been mad at her.

Berkley had barely finished her newest messing when her mom knocked on her door, which Berkley promptly unlocked and opened. Her mom's eyes darted down to her exposed diaper, which was now bulging a lot more than it had been just a few minutes prior.

"Good thing we waited," she said, as she motioned to Berkley to follow her.

Berkley followed her mom downstairs to the changing table, and was both a little happy and a little sad to be put in a fresh new diaper. Her mom had actually been humming while she changed her, which was quite out of the ordinary. Normally, Beth would remain quite silent, while making the occasional disappointed or disgusted face, depending on the state of the diaper she was changing.

When Berkley's new diaper had been secured, and she'd gotten to her feet, she thanked her mom, who was in the process of rolling the messy diaper up and throwing it away, and went upstairs. She passed by Bailey's room, and heard her talking to somebody, presumably on the phone, as nobody was likely to be stopping by while the house was full of oversized baby furniture. She knew Bailey had been sneaking out to meet a boy named Eric for the past month or so, but didn't think it likely that he'd be at the house.

She turned aside and went into her own room once again, where she re-locked the door and got on the computer again. She pulled up the word document where she'd been typing up her story, and began typing quickly. She already had a good idea of the next central plot point, and let her fingers do the talking as to how she would arrive at that point. Then she would go over it again, correct her spelling and tweak what details didn't quite match up.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, she was left to type on her own, without interruption for the rest of the evening. All the while, if she listened closely, she could hear her sister still talking to whomever it was, most likely Eric that she was talking to. She managed to get over five more pages written, had an idea what she'd write on for maybe another five, and miraculously managed to stop from browsing the story sites. In the past couple of weeks, several of these story sites had made some wonderful updates, and had posted a lot of new stories that Berkley absolutely loved, and might become too absorbed in them to write at all if she began reading them again.

At long last, as her eyes began to droop, and her head began to nod, she saved what she'd written and turned off her computer. She tugged at the covers and pulled them over her shoulder so as to shut out the cold and emptied her bladder even as she slipped from consciousness and into the world of dreams. And so she slept, and so she dreamed, without a care in the world. Even as she slept, she could still hear the distant voice of her sister, murmuring somewhere far away, in a different world to another who had entered their lives, though she did not yet know it.

Part 8: Misadventures, Mysteries and Monsters

Chapter 1: Baffled Bailey

It was the end of October, and Bailey was checking off one more day, counting down until she'd be free from this undeserved punishment. In a little less than two months, provided her mom kept to her word, she'd be free to live life as a regular, though still urinary incontinent, teenager. She'd managed to spend the last couple of months managing to hide the worst of her situation from Eric, though recently, after seeing that their relationship might depend on how honest she was with him, she'd talked to him over the phone late into the night, and had at least summoned the courage to tell him she was incontinent. Unfortunately, despite his seeming ability to know anything and everything without needing to be told, she had to explain to him what that meant.

Eric seemed to have a bit of trouble comprehending the situation, despite one occasion where Bailey had actually worked up the nerve to display her diapers to him. He still seemed to be laboring under the delusion that diapers were for babies and old people. He even suggested that she could just try harder to control her bladder, and that the problem might go away on its own. Bailey almost lost her temper with him, but managed to calm down enough to inform him that trying harder would yield absolutely no results.

Eric had remained quite quiet for the remainder of their conversation, but the next day had called her quite early on in the day. He still seemed embarrassed to talk about it, which Bailey did her best to fix. She didn't exactly want to flaunt her diapers at him, seeing as she wasn't exactly thrilled about having to wear them, but if she was going to have a meaningful relationship with him, she needed to know he was ok with having a girlfriend who would always be in diapers.

She tried to remedy the situation by making off-the-hand comments occasionally over the next several days about how she needed a change. She hit an unfortunate snag when he began to question why she didn't carry extra diapers with her and needed to return home every time she needed a change. Wanting to steer clear of how she wasn't allowed to change herself, she brushed his question off fairly quickly and smoothly, aside from a slight tinge of pink in her cheeks, by saying she just wasn't comfortable with changing in public, the same way some people aren't comfortable with using public restrooms.

Eric seemed to accept this excuse, and in another display of his odd way of perceiving things, he commented on how diapers must be both a blessing and a curse. He quickly added that he was sure they must be much more of a curse when he saw that Bailey was looking at him with one eyebrow raised.

Bailey knew what he must be thinking; anybody could potentially see the benefits of wearing diapers, though so few ever really seemed to consider the notion, even under the most dire of circumstances. Those that did consider the notion, even when the idea was a completely rational one, such as when waiting in line for hours and hours for concert tickets or anything else of the like, were often considered crazy by those that found out.

There had been many occasions over the past few years, particularly over the past four months, during which Bailey had been quite happy to have diapers on, simply because it allowed her to keep doing whatever it was that she was doing without needing to take a bathroom break. In this regard, at least, she agreed with Eric; diapers could come in handy occasionally. More often than not, it seemed, the diapers were more of a burden. Firstly, once used, the diaper would need to be changed, which often times took much more time than using a bathroom, since it involved a thorough clean-up process or she might risk diaper rash or possibly an infection.

After a few days of intermittent discussion pertaining to her diapers, by which time Eric had gotten a good deal more comfortable with the idea, she allowed him the chance to ask questions, since he seemed almost ready to burst with them. Much to Bailey's chagrin, however, the first question out of his mouth was one of the last ones she felt like answering. She almost lied to him, given it pertained to a subject she didn't really like in the first place, though she knew Berkley was quite happy about it.

"Have you ever, you know...dropped the kids off?" he asked, going a little pink himself.

Bailey tried to pretend like she didn't know what he was talking about, hoping he might get the hint that it was not a topic she wanted to discuss. The idea didn't take.

"I mean, have you ever...pooped yourself?" he asked, whispering, despite the fact that they were quite alone, parked several blocks from her house in a mostly empty parking lot. Upon reiterating his question, he went quite a bit redder than he had previously when using a euphemism.

Bailey went very red at this as well, perhaps more than him, mainly because it was her they were talking about. If she remained honest, which she would of course do, she'd be speaking of something very, very personal as well as very, very embarrassing.

At long last, she nodded, but didn't say anything more.

Eric seemed to have taken this silent response for what she meant it: the end of the topic. He had his answer and she would give him no more information on the topic.

The next question he asked was one she was quite a bit happier to reply to, as it involved more basic information on the cause of her incontinence. She tried to give as much information as she could, but this information was strangely limited, given that she didn't really understand the reason behind it herself.

Their Question and Answer session was cut mercifully short when Bailey took a look at the clock in Eric's car and saw that it was very near dinner time, and she needed to be getting back. Though she hadn't mentioned it to Eric, she was also eager to get back because she needed to poop quite badly and didn't want him to know.

Eric dropped her off as he had so many times before, and she continued to wave as he drove off. Once he'd disappeared, she hopped on up the steps to the front door, and went inside. It was quite cold out, and her very wet diaper had ceased to keep her warm a couple of hours ago and was now getting colder with every second she stayed outside. The weather was fine during daylight hours, but the sun was now gone and the temperature outside had dropped dramatically.

Once inside, she could immediately smell the food her mom was cooking and smiled. Then, she saw something that made her heart pause for a moment: Several unfamiliar jackets hanging up on the stand near the door. They had company, which was something Bailey would very much like to have been informed of ahead of time. She had to poop quite badly by now, and if their visitors didn't leave soon, there would be quite an issue.

Curious to see who was here, but not wanting to be seen, she peeked ever so slightly around the corner. There seemed to be both a man and a woman sitting at the table, opposite Berkley. They were turned away so that Bailey couldn't see their faces, but she thought they looked somewhat familiar. She glanced over at Berkley, who was sitting there quietly with her face directed ardently toward her own lap. She couldn't see it well enough to be sure, but she was quite certain that Berkley's face must be scarlet.

Bailey looked around for her mom, but evidently she was in the kitchen, still cooking. This was unfortunate, as the only way of getting into the kitchen was to cross the dining room. Deciding that this wouldn't be such a bad thing, since her diaper was still clean, if not dry, she stepped through the doorway. Only then did she realize who the two people sitting at the table were, by which point retreat was no longer an option.

Just as she'd stepped into the room, the man turned to say something to the woman, and must have seen Bailey's movement as she entered the room out of the corner of his eye. He turned and said, "Well look who finally decided to show up!" Bailey tried to make herself smile and couldn't. The man sitting at the table was one of the last people she wanted to know she was in a diaper, let alone on the verge of messing one. It was her uncle, Louis, and the woman to his right could only be her aunt, Claudia.

Louis and Claudia were nice enough people, but Bailey had never seen eye to eye with them. She hadn't seen them in years, maybe since she was thirteen years old, but in any case, it was before she'd started wetting herself and begun wearing diapers again. They were, so far as Bailey knew, blissfully ignorant on the subject of Bailey's diapers, and she'd like to keep it that way.

She managed to get through the dining room with a simple, "Hello, Louis, hello Claudia, long time no see." With that, she disappeared into the kitchen. Unfortunately, her mom wasn't in there either, which only left a couple of places she could be: She could either be in the bathroom, or in her room, maybe changing her own diaper.

She was reaching that point where she wasn't sure she could hold it that much longer, but she could tell by the way the table had been set up that Louis and Claudia were going to stay for supper. With another glance around to make sure her mom wasn't just on the other side of the refrigerator chopping onions or something, she stepped back into the dining room. At the same time, her mom came in through the other door, saw her, and motioned for her to sit down, while she brought out the rest of the food.

Dismayed, but still managing to hang onto her last shreds of control, she took a seat next to Berkley, since Claudia was currently occupying the chair usually reserved for her. She looked over at Berkley, who was now willing to at least look around, and saw with a mixture of satisfaction and a little bit of pity, that Berkley was every bit as desperate as she was. Beads of sweat speckled her face, and she was continually pressing and rubbing her stomach, as though she'd just eaten a large meal, though they still had yet to eat.

A couple of minutes later, they were eating, though Bailey didn't really feel like putting any more food into her system would be a good idea until she got the food that was in her system already out. Nevertheless, she cleaned her plate, though it took every bit of willpower she had to do so, and she knew that as soon as she stood up, she'd mess herself. Beside her, Berkley had completely stopped eating, despite having only taken a few bites out of the food on her plate. Bailey guessed her sister was in the same predicament.

After a few minutes, Bailey watched as Berkley got up and walked to the kitchen to rinse off her plate. She was astounded at the casual way that Berkley handled herself. Bailey, being in on the situation, could tell that Berkley was messing, even as she walked. It was an art that Bailey herself had never quite perfected. She watched as Berkley shuffled from side to side ever so slightly as she let go of the control she'd struggled to maintain throughout the meal. If you didn't know, you'd never be able to tell that a girl, almost eighteen years old, had just soiled herself like an infant.

Bailey then watched as Berkley disappeared into the kitchen, where she would undoubtedly finish what she'd been unable to stop in the dining room. A minute later, she reappeared in the dining room before speeding off through the doorway into the living room and up the stairs. Bailey envied the way her sister had adapted to diapers, being able to wet and mess her diapers like she had no idea it was happening, and being able to play it off like it really wasn't happening at all. Bailey was a master of not drawing attention whilst she wet herself, but messing was something that she could scarcely hide. She liked to think herself smooth, but in truth, she knew anyone who watched for even half a second would be able to tell she was doing it.

Normally this wasn't an issue; normally, the only people that would be around when she needed to poop were her mom and her sister. The fact that she always squatted slightly when pooping was something she'd only become aware of when Berkley had pointed it out one day, as she had begun messing herself as she put a couple of plates into the dishwasher. If not for Berkley's comment, she'd still probably think she looked perfectly normal while messing. Moreover, she'd had absolutely no success with trying to mess while walking. She always had to stop and squat, which in public she usually managed by feigning interest in something on the ground.

Not wanting to draw unwanted attention to herself by sticking around long after everyone else was finished, she decided it was time to risk it. She stood up abruptly and immediately regretted it; it was as if the weight in her stomach had multiplied tenfold after she'd eaten. She almost lost all control simply from standing up, and had to stop herself from squatting. She took a few careful steps toward the kitchen, and let out some gas that did nothing to relieve the pressure.

With great care, she took a few more steps and finally disappeared into the kitchen, where she quickly let go of all control, and grimaced as the felt the warm, mud-like substance explode out of her. She let out some more gas, which produced a muffled gurgle, and with it came a torrent of semi-solid mess, very unlike her usually firm masses. What was worse than the feeling of it all, like hot mashed potatoes, was the smell. It was worse than any mess she'd ever made, and perhaps worse than any mess Berkley had made either, and that was certainly saying something.

She felt her face burn as she wondered how she was going to get all the way across the dining room without drawing attention to herself. She knew that she would waddle, and she knew her aunt and uncle would be able to smell her as she passed by.

The problem was taken out of her hands, however, as she heard a chair at the table creak, and the clinking of silverware on porcelain as somebody got up to rinse off their plate. Not wanting to be caught like this, but with no other place to turn, she dumped her plate and silverware on the counter, and charged out of the room just in time to pass her uncle, who looked bewildered as she passed him. She didn't look back, and just as she reached the stairs, she heard a voice which could only be her uncle's say, "Whoa-ho! Something stinks! Beth, I think you might want to get your drains cleaned out, it smells like sewage in your kitchen!"

Bailey ignored her uncle's comment and ran up the stairs, trying to avoid thinking about the shifting, semi-solid mess that now occupied the space between her legs. She wondered briefly how much longer it would be until her aunt and uncle left, then pushed the thought out of her head, as she entered her room and pulled the door shut behind her. Then, in a flash of embarrassment, wondered what Eric would think if he could see her now. A good part of her thought he'd break up with her as he turned aside to vomit, but some part of her thought he might not mind as much as the rest of her thought.

Chapter 2: Berkley's Bad Business

It was now the middle of November, and almost three weeks had passed since the visit of Berkley and Bailey's aunt and uncle. The two had arrived almost a full two hours before Bailey had shown up for supper, and Berkley herself had been there to see their arrival. Her mom had been about to change her wet diaper when the two had arrived, evidently as unexpected by their mother as by Berkley and Bailey themselves. As a result, Berkley only just had enough time to re-dress herself before the two came in, leaving her in a thoroughly soaked diaper.

The two had stayed for yet another couple of hours after supper, by which point both Berkley herself, as well as her older sister Bailey had thoroughly soiled themselves, though Berkley hadn't stuck around to watch her big sister mess her diaper. She had instead, slipped on up to her room, and gotten onto her computer until she heard the departure of her aunt and uncle. During these two short hours, Berkley had actually managed to write a full five pages of her story; now that she'd gotten this far into it, the plot of the story and where it was going flowed from her as easily as the contents of her bladder now did, with hardly a thought.

Now it was the middle of November, however, and the last day before Thanksgiving break. Berkley was all too eager for the end of the day to come, but was more eager for her current class to be over. It was barely ten minutes into her fifty-minute long fifth period class, and Berkley already knew she wouldn't make it to the end with a clean diaper. It wouldn't be the first time; she'd pooped little bits before to ease the pressure when it was getting too intense, and hadn't quite gone unnoticed. In fact, she'd garnered a bit of a negative reputation in her fourth and fifth period classed because her classmates had mistaken the smells that sometimes surrounded her as farts. Sometimes, she'd even seen a couple of her classmates pinching their noses as she walked by and wave their hands theatrically, even when her diaper was quite clean.

Throughout the entire school year so far, there's only been a handful of times which she'd managed to not mess her diaper immediately after fifth period, and absolutely no occasions when she'd managed to make it all the way to the end of the school day. This was, at least in part, due to her mom's insistence that she at least try to poop before her daily change. In any case, however, she'd always managed at least a little discretion when she needed to use her diapers, even if it was just wetting, but today was different. Today, she was going to mess herself completely before the class was even half over, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

If she was honest with herself, Berkley knew she was in trouble from the time she woke up. When she'd awoken, her stomach had been aching, and in Berkley's case, that only ever meant one thing: She needed to poop. She'd tried to mess herself before school, but with little success, as only a few pebbles had been expelled, and with absolutely no relief from the pain in her stomach. Though she'd tried for at least twenty minutes, she'd been unable to expel anything more, and was forced to give it up, have her mother change her extraordinarily quickly, and go to school.

By the end of second period, her stomach had been aching fiercely, much more than it had been when she'd first woken up. It was at this point that she admitted to herself that the day might end very, very badly. With no alternative, she was forced to wait it out, hoping that she may just have a buildup of gas, and nothing more. By fourth period, however, she realized that wasn't the case when she began letting out muffled, though still audible farts, which drew a lot of unwanted attention her way, and did nothing to relieve the pain in her stomach. Then, towards the end of that class, she felt something in her stomach shift, and knew she needed to poop, and that her body wasn't going to listen to her mind's pleas for patience.

Now here she sat, less than fifteen minutes into her fifth period class, with beads of sweat running down her pink face, as gas escaped her body through the southern exit in wet burps, which had already drawn the attention of several of her classmates. She held herself tightly against her chain, hoping against all hope that her body wouldn't be able to expel anything solid as long as she gave it no room to do so. It would be painful, but she thought she might actually be able to last until the end of class, as long as she didn't have to stand.

To her horror, however, she felt a jet of warm liquid squeeze through her last bodily defense, and realized it would only be a matter of seconds before more liquid stench seeped from her, and seconds after that it would be gushing in torrents, until she was forced to abandon her defenses, when she would inevitably lift her butt, and in that very instant, expel a hot mixture of semi-solid and solid chunks, amidst a flood of steaming brown water, which not even her dimmest classmates could mistake for a fart. They would see, and they would know.

Berkley didn't even have time to think before the very thing she had just imagined so vividly occurred in reality, giving her a strange sense of déjà vu. It was almost as if a physical presence was forcing her to straighten her knees, lifting her butt up and giving the treacherous muck inside her just the space it needed to perform its escape. As the first heavy warmth settled into the padding and caused her diaper to sag, Berkley was suddenly very aware that the teacher had stopped talking, and almost every one of her classmates was staring, and many were snickering. A few looked appalled, and a few were dozing quietly, and were thus missing what would hopefully be a one-time occurrence.

Berkley's mind was racing now; trying desperately to maintain what remained of her dignity, even as the last of it abandoned her with a gurgle, and a cramp so painful that Berkley seized up, and expelled hot liquid from both her bowels as well as her bladder, which had let go with no without warning.

The pain subsided, and Berkley opened her eyes again, and she suddenly felt like she was going to faint. Without asking for the teacher's permission, she grabbed her backpack, and scooped up the papers off of her desk before running headfirst out the door, where she immediately heard her audience burst into laughter at the most embarrassing moment of her life.

In a daze, she stumbled down the hall, barely aware that she was stumbling as she ran. She could hardly see, as her eyes clouded with tears, which filled up her eyes and broke in fresh streams down her cheeks. Her throat closed up painfully as her chest began to heave, and she found herself sobbing.

She finally stumbled into a bathroom; not the one closest to her classroom, because as Berkley knew very well, if a student wasn't feeling well, the teacher would send another student to the nearest bathroom to check on them shortly thereafter. She thought she might die of embarrassment if she were found in her current state by anyone from her class, or anyone from the school for that matter.

She stayed in that bathroom, locked in the furthest stall from the door, until at long last, she heard the bell rang, and immediately burst from the restroom and out into the parking lot, where her mom was waiting for her. She begged her mom to take her home, and explained to her all that had just occurred. When Berkley finished her explanation, she was pleased that her mom had agreed to take her home for the rest of the day. Following school protocol, however, she had to inform the principal that she'd be taking her home.

Berkley waited in the car for what seemed like an hour, though the clock on the dashboard told her that only twenty minutes had passed. She couldn't believe how bad she smelled; between her and Bailey, she'd always had the fouler smelling poop, but even this was above and beyond anything she'd ever produced before, and though she normally enjoyed sitting in a messy diaper for maybe an hour or so before deciding she was overdue for a change, she'd been ready for a change the moment she'd messed. At long last, Beth came back, but the look on her face didn't make Berkley any happier.

Beth climbed into the car and looked over at her youngest daughter with her lips were pursed, and her eyebrows were raised. She sighed, shook her head in a, "What am I going to do with you?" way, and opened her mouth to speak.

"I told them you've been having some trouble getting to the toilet on time, like I had to with your sister a few years back when she started having trouble with her bladder control. There shouldn't be any trouble with the staff the next time you go to class. I'll take you home today, but I want you to know, you may have to convince them, if you get my meaning."

Berkley of course understood perfectly well what her mom was asking of her; her mom wanted her to have some more, "accidents" in school, so she could convince the staff that she really needed diapers. Unfortunately, this meant she could virtually say good-bye to her few remaining friends, and that she would be subjecting herself to numerous new taunts, jeers, insults and nicknames. It had been bad enough when the kids just thought she'd "let one rip" so to speak. Now, even if she does just "let one rip," they might as well assume she'd messed herself. Berkley loved her diapers, and knew she'd always love wetting and messing, but thought that the end of the school year, or at the very least Winter Break, couldn't come soon enough. At least she would get the next week off for Thanksgiving Break, when her classroom accident might fade into obscurity.

Part 9: Never the Same

Chapter 1: Bailey's Bonds

A few weeks passed, snow littered the ground outside, and Bailey was growing all the more excited. She wasn't excited for the snow, but because it was only a week until she'd be out of her punishment. She couldn't help but to think of what this would mean, however. Some part of her, however small, had changed in these last six months. She still had no desire to mess herself, but now understood that it was at the very least, a viable alternative in the event that a bathroom was not readily available. Her mom had stressed this point several times over the last few weeks, and Bailey was beginning to understand that this was her mom's way of trying to patch things up, after sticking her in a six-month long punishment for a genuine accident. What struck Bailey as odd, however, was that her mom seemed to be expressing these concerns while under the impression that Bailey either liked to mess herself, or that she might not be able to stop herself from doing it, after being given no alternative for the past half of the year.

Neither of these cases were true, however, as Bailey was perfectly happy that she'd be able to sit on the porcelain throne again before too long. The only times she'd been allowed in the bathroom in the past six months were to bathe, and only when her mom had been there to make sure she didn't use the toilet. If her mom needed to leave the room, bath time was officially over.

Bailey's mind often drifted to Berkley's scenario. Her younger sister would still be diapered for another six months, but Bailey didn't think she minded the treatment. A few weeks ago, she'd been sitting in the living room watching TV and talking on the phone with Eric when her mom had gotten back around lunch time with Berkley in tow, despite the fact that she should have still been in school. Evidently Berkley had been unable to keep herself from messing while in the middle of class, and their mom had been forced to lie to the principal, claiming Berkley had been suffering from reduced muscle strength and reflexes in her sphincter.

She worried about Berkley sometimes; she worried what it might mean for her younger sister to be in diapers when she didn't really need them. She knew that if she had the choice, she wouldn't wear diapers at all, with the exception of a few occasions, when a portable toilet might come in handy. What normal teenager, who would be an adult in a couple of months, actually liked to wear diapers? Was there something wrong with Berkley's head, or was this something that some people just did?

Nobody she'd ever met, perhaps with the sole exception of Berkley, actually enjoyed wearing diapers, at least so far as she knew. Then again, of all the people she knew, only her mom, Berkley and herself wore diapers, though she was sure she'd probably seen and maybe even talked to other incontinent people at some point or another, though she certainly had not have realized it. She supposed of those people, there might be a couple who didn't mind their diapers too badly, and maybe even one or two who genuinely preferred them to a toilet. Bailey herself would never be able to understand why, but she could see that there might be some reason behind it all.

Bailey's visits with Eric had diminished, but had by no means stopped. In fact, part of the reason for their decline in frequency was due to Eric working more, so he could have a little excess spending money for when the two of them did go out. Bailey had a little excess money herself from various jobs her mom had wanted her to do, as well as some money tucked away in her savings account from the last job she'd had, which she'd quit a little ways before the end of her senior year. Despite this, however, Eric insisted on paying for virtually everything, which Bailey would protest, but eventually yield .

She was happy that Eric was so accepting of her incontinence, and wondered what he might think if he knew of the punishment her mom had inflicted on her and Berkley. She thought he might be outraged, and might even call the police on the grounds of abuse, but then thought he might think it an interesting scenario, maybe even get ideas, and pushed it out of her mind.

She was vaguely aware of the fact that she needed a change, mostly due to the cool dampness and invasive bulk that pried apart her thighs. She had been in this state for what must have been hours, and knew that if she didn't get changed soon, she might get a rash. Even so, she knew that until her mom got home, there was very little she could do to remedy this situation. Now that she was so close to freedom, she wasn't willing to risk lengthening her punishment. A few months back, she might have disregarded that notion and attempted to pry open the cabinet that housed the only diapers in the house, but now she was too focused on getting what she wanted and what she wanted was freedom.

As it turned out, she didn't really have much to worry about in the way of getting a rash; her mom got home from the store with big bags of groceries in hand a few minutes later, and changed Bailey after a few more minutes after all the groceries had been put away. Berkley didn't help to put them away, as she was off somewhere doing God only knew what.

Bailey understood that her sister had been in a bit of a state over the last few weeks, when her school life had become a living Hell. Ever since one day when she'd had an accident in one of her classes, she'd been made fun of relentlessly. It didn't help that she'd gone ahead with their mom's suggestion and messed herself earlier in the day, during her third period class, in order to give some credence to the idea that she really was incontinent. After that, even Berkley's closest friends were finding it difficult not to laugh at her. Bailey thought their mom might have known that this would make things more difficult for Berkley, and thought she might only have suggested it to make Berkley more aware of the struggles of the truly incontinent.

Bailey felt bad for Berkley, but at the same time understood that what Berkley was going through was mostly her own fault. Berkley was not really incontinent, and thus did not really need to wear diapers, but had nonetheless been found in a used diaper. It was of course an overreaction on the part of their mother that resulted in this extended punishment, with herself being made to wear and use diapers as her sole means of relief for six months, and Berkley, who was made to wear and use diapers as her sole bathroom for a full year.

Thankfully, her own punishment would be over soon, though this meant little in the long run. Sure, she'd be able to go back to using the toilet for relieving her bowels, which had become less certain than they had been in the last few months, thanks to her prolonged use of diapers, but her bladed control was virtually shot. It had been declining steadily for years, but for the last couple of years or so, she'd been able to at least feel the buildup of urine before the imminent release, and sometimes she could even make it to the bathroom, but now the only indication was moist, spreading warmth and the increasing bulk between her thighs.

Bailey knew her life would never be the same after her punishment was over. She'd gotten kind of used to the idea of just being able to go to the bathroom whenever and wherever she wanted, and made a conscious decision not to fret over her lost bladder control. She had so little of it to begin with, and had lost so much of it before the punishment had even begun that getting to the bathroom just to pee when there was a perfectly good toilet positioned perfectly between her legs was just too much of a bother. She would, of course, still make every effort to go to the bathroom when she needed to do more than just pee. She had no interest in messing herself while Eric was around, for example, even though she thought he might not mind.

Over the next couple of days, Bailey was pleased to see the first signs that she was loosening her restrictions on her. She even allowed unlocked the bathroom for her to take a shower and allowed her to bathe unsupervised for a change. Bailey was sorely tempted to make use of the toilet while she was in there, but knew she'd regret the decision if she went through with it. Maybe her mom would even extend the punishment for another year! No, the risk was simply too much, and so Bailey simply messed as soon as she'd gotten out of the shower and her mom had put her in a new diaper, before her mom even had time to pull on Bailey's clean onesie. Following this, she thought she saw comical amusement spread across her mom's face for the first time in months, and knew that some things would return to normal, but that life as a whole would never truly be the same again.

That things had changed was something Bailey both denied and accepted all at once. Part of her saw the change, and part of her flat-out refused. She harbored a sense of distrust for her mom that she had simply lacked six months ago. Six months prior, her mom had instituted a punishment that crossed a line and could never be re-crossed. Bailey resented her mom for this and wondered what it had been exactly that set her off, but at the same time she loved her mom, and hoped that whatever it was that had upset her was gone, and would never come back.

Christmas Eve arrived a few days later, and Bailey was ecstatic. She'd been informed by her mom that at the stroke of midnight, she'd be given a key to the bathroom and the diaper supply cabinet housed beneath the changing table. After that, her mom promised her that she'd never punish her like that again. She'd be free to wet and mess her diapers as often or for whatever reasons she saw fit. Bailey didn't even bother trying to remind her mom that she didn't want to mess her diapers, as she knew that a slip of the tongue now would likely spell disaster. Besides, if she did mess by accident in the future, or encountered a situation where it would be more prudent to continue with her current action instead of going to the bathroom, she now had her mom's permission.

Bailey watched the clock throughout the entire day, which she knew would make the day go by more slowly, just as when children watch the clock on the last day of school, but she couldn't stop herself. Each time she'd look at the clock, thinking perhaps an hour and a half had passes, she was dismayed to see that less than half that time ad really gone by. Sometimes there would be skips, where she'd guess maybe twenty minutes had gone by, only to see that it had really been thirty or forty, but these were few and far between.

To make matters worse, her bladder seemed to be in overdrive that day, and she found herself wetting time and time again, sometimes almost to the point of leaking before she could get changed. She realized that this was because she'd been drinking a lot of water and soda, since she thought lots of time had gone by when really very little had.

After supper, her mom changed what, Bailey hoped, would be her last messy diaper. Her mom treated it just as every other messy diaper beforehand, and even put one of the "Baby Girl" diapers on her, presumably as some sort of joke, though Bailey didn't find it particularly funny. Afterwards, Bailey's mom handed her a fresh set of clothes that Bailey hadn't seen in almost six months. It was a pair of her old jeans, and one of her old t-shirts. Bailey couldn't help but grin, as she leaned forward and hugged her mom.

She ran upstairs to put them on. There was no particular reason why, she'd just never been particularly fond of exposing herself to her sister and mother. Admittedly, both of them had seen almost every inch of her there was to see over the last few months many times over, but she didn't care – changing was just something she preferred to do behind closed doors.

Luckily, despite her lack of exercise over the past six months, Bailey's clothes still fit. They were perhaps a bit tighter around her waist and hips, but that was to be expected, when she'd been cooped up in her house 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time she was usually out eating at a fast food restaurant. She estimated she'd put on about ten pounds, maybe a little more, but her metabolism was high and she was young, and that weight would be off in no time.

That night, she sat up watching the TV and occasionally glancing over at the clock. At a minute until midnight, she was so ecstatic that she hardly noticed the spreading warmth between her thighs, which had become so ingrained in her life over the past several years and even more so over the last six months. By the time she became aware of it, however, the clock had changed with neither chime nor cheer; her life was not changed greatly by this, but had merely gotten back on track. For the first time in half a year, she felt like a real adult once again, instead of the strange, half-child that she'd forced to be for some time now.

She didn't bother changing her semi-damp diaper before she fell asleep. She simply smiled, relishing the warmth that didn't seem to fade, and nodded off. When she awoke the next morning, it was to the sound of over-played Christmas carols being played over the radio downstairs, or else her mom was watching some holiday specials on TV with the volume turned up way too high.

She got dressed, and couldn't help but grin wildly as she sifted through all of her old clothes which now hung in the closet. She knew she'd put on a little bit of weight due to severely decreased physical activity since the beginning of her punishment, but no more than maybe ten pounds. She hoped now that she'd be able to go out and about with no more embarrassment that anyone else her age, despite still being urinary incontinent, that she'd be able to lose the little bit of chub that she'd gained. It didn't really matter to her, she was still fairly skinny and would undoubtedly fit into all of her old clothes, aside from her old prom dress, which she'd had to squeeze into even at the time of purchase. Luckily the guy she'd gone to prom with hadn't tried to get her out of that dress, or the news of her wearing a diaper wouldn't have remained secret for long.

After she'd changed, she went downstairs, where Berkley and her mom were both waiting for her. Now that she was out of her own punishment, she could fully enjoy the punishment that Berkley was going through. Her sister, who had always been the kind of girl who dressed in semi-short skirts with lots of lace, or pants with bulky aluminum chains, as well as obscenely tight t-shirts with the name of one of her favorite bands printed across the chest, looked positively awkward in the baggy pink and white onesie, which bulged noticeably around the waist and crotch. To make things even worse(or better), her long hair was done up in poorly done pig-tails, which must have taken some time to work out, she had an oversized pacifier protruding from her mouth and last but not least, she was holding a teddy bear under one arm that was almost half her size.

Life was good. She wasn't sure if Berkley considered her predicament a punishment or not, but she knew she'd heard her sister complaining multiple times over the past few weeks, ever since word had spread around the school that Berkley couldn't control her bowels anymore. Bailey of course knew that Berkley still had plenty of control over her bowels, but also knew that it was necessary for her to be thought of as incontinent, or their mom would get into a lot of trouble. Bailey didn't really think it was necessary to say anything, but she knew that her mom's punishment was probably illegal, and would most likely be considered cruel and unusual punishment, though she was reasonably sure that Berkley was enjoying it


Chapter 2: The Second Six of Berkley Bruhn Begins

Christmas came and went, and neither Bailey nor Berkley was disappointed. Berkley had received several new sets of clothing both for public and private wear. As was to be expected, her private clothing proved to be much more babyish than the public clothing. More often than not, the clothing was an oversized version of the clothing most often seen on infants and toddlers, while her public clothing was more of a young child design, though still made to fit a young adult.

Berkley had also received a package of holiday themed diapers; some new pacifiers, since her old ones had gotten rather chewed up; some experimental foodstuffs and pills which Beth believed would reduce the smell of Berkley's messy diapers, though Berkley had read online that those things almost never showed good results and usually just turned the mess green instead of brown; and several stuffed animals, which Berkley would have enjoyed immensely, even if she weren't being punished.

Bailey, in complete contrast to Berkley, had received a good haul of age-appropriate gifts; a new laptop, which she was ecstatic to receive, given that her old desktop computer was ancient and hardly even connected to the internet; several books from a series which she'd been reading, though lacked the money to buy for herself; some new shirts and jeans, which Bailey immediately fell in love with; some new headphones; and lastly a new backpack, since Bailey never liked to carry a purse when she was out and about.

Berkley felt a ping of jealousy as Bailey opened her gifts, especially the laptop, which Berkley had requested for every birthday and Christmas over the last several years and had continually been denied. She got the distinct feeling that her mom was trying to get the message across to her of how much more she could be getting out of Christmas if she didn't act like a baby. Berkley flushed with anger at this, but said nothing, and the anger quickly abated.

She knew she'd made her choice, but wondered if she might not one day be allowed to have both a grown up life as well as a baby life. Perhaps once she'd moved out, she might be able to find a nice guy who would baby her sometimes, yet treat her like an adult when she wanted. She knew from reading the forum posts on her favorite sites that most of the members were male, but didn't let that delude her; she was fully aware that the vast majority of men were not into putting diapers on their girlfriends. Simply because most Adult Babies or Diaper Lovers were male, didn't mean that most males were Adult Babies or Diaper Lovers.

Then, on the off chance that she did manage to find an Adult Baby or Diaper Lover boyfriend, she got the feeling that it would be something sexual for them, which for her it most certainly was not. Sure, wetting and messing was nice, and felt wonderful, especially that freedom she felt, being able to and moreover being allowed to relieve herself wherever and whenever she wanted, since she wore her bathroom between her legs. That, however, didn't mean it turned her on; quite the contrary in fact – She never felt less sexy than when she was sitting with a load in her diaper – the smell was more than enough to kill those fantasies.

By the time New Year's Day rolled around, almost all of Berkley's holiday diapers had been used up, despite it being less than a week later, and the package having originally contained two dozen diapers. Berkley had a tendency to mess far more often than Bailey ever had, and that meant a lot more diaper changes – almost four every day, only one or two of which had been wet. Not that this meant much to the family, as Beth seemed to have an endless supply of diapers for herself and her two daughters, and with Bailey no longer messing herself, she might be able to get by on one change a day, maybe two, but hardly ever would more be necessary.

School started up again a few days into the New Year, and Berkley was far from eager to return. There didn't seem to be a single kid in the school who didn't know she was diapered. She seemed to draw stares simply from walking down the hall, with many taking time out of their day to follow her making crude farting noises and waving their hands under their noses. To make matters worse, once or twice people had begun to follow her when she'd just messed herself, which had not gone unnoticed.

Berkley had been pulled aside by several school officials and offered separate classes from the rest of the school. At first this had seemed like a good idea, but then she learned that what they were offering was a spot in the Special Education classrooms, which she had no interest in. It was bad enough that all of her old friends had deserted her, thinking her some kind of freak simply because, so far as they knew, she couldn't control her bowels; she did not want people to think that she wasn't up to the academic standards of her classmates either.

With the new semester beginning, most of her elective classes had changed, and she now had many new classmates. If the knowledge of her diapered state had been an isolated thing, this might have been good, but it was basically common knowledge throughout the school that she pooped herself on a daily basis. As such, all of her new classes were half filled with people hell-bent on making fun of her, or shooting her disgusting looks, like she smelled bad, even when her diaper was perfectly clean. There were of course a few people who held their tongues, presumably because they simply didn't find her situation humorous, but she was no more happy to have people pitying her than to have them making fun of her, she just wanted people to treat her like they had before she'd pooped herself in class the first time.

Her new schedule also allowed her to have lunch a little earlier, since she'd now be going to lunch before fifth period, rather than after. This would have been perfectly welcome last quarter, but now she could hardly set foot into a bathroom without somebody pulling her aside to make fun of her, asking, "Why doesn't the baby use her diaper?" She knew her mom would be furious with her if it somehow miraculously got back to her that she'd tried slipping off to the restroom, and stopped trying, especially after the third time that day she'd tried and failed to slip inside the south unit girl's restroom and had almost gone inside when she saw the school nurse watching her suspiciously.

Throughout Berkley's entire high school career, she'd hardly ever had need to see the nurse. In fact, the only time before this school year in which she'd needed to pay a visit to the nurse was in her freshman year, during which she'd sprained her ankle during gym class whilst playing a game of badminton, when she'd tripped and fallen. Now, however, it seemed she saw the nurse everywhere she went, and knew that this semester was going to be a very embarrassing one, since the only place she was permitted to change was the nurse's office, since what she was disposing of was considered a biohazard and wasn't allowed to be disposed of with the rest of the trash. Berkley acknowledged that this was probably for the best, as this allowed her a degree of privacy that she wouldn't have in the school restrooms, by permitting her to change in a miniature bathroom usually reserved for kids who've taken ill.

Berkley's first day back in school was far from pleasant. Even without her several failed attempts to use the bathroom, so that she didn't have to mess herself in class, she had one of her most abysmal days yet, topped only by the days immediately preceding the holiday break. Her first indication that the day was going to be a bad one came early on in the day, when her bowels began aching before her first period class was even over. It was after this class that she tried to head to the bathroom the first time and had been stopped by a boy whom she recognized as one of the people who'd witnessed her first disastrous accident last quarter.

"Bathrooms are for big kids," he'd said with a mischievous grin and barking laugh. Berkley pretended to ignore him, but bypassed the restroom just the same.

Berkley had tried to set foot into another restroom, and actually managed to get inside, but was driven out by a group of stuck up girls who flocked around her, asking, "Why doesn't the baby use her diaper?" There was only one more bathroom between her first class and her second, and that was the one just outside the faculty break room, where she saw the nurse looking at her with narrowed eyes. Once again, she passed the bathroom up with clenched cheeks.

Berkley's second class was a new one for her; World Geography, and the class was seated alphabetically. A rather pretty brunette groaned audibly when she took her seat behind Berkley, who thought she heard the girl mumble something about how Berkley, "Better not." Whatever it was that Berkley, "better not," do however, was drowned out by the start of class bell ringing. Less than ten minutes into her class, Berkley felt she could no longer hold it in without making it too obvious that she'd known she needed to poop. Obviously, if she were really incontinent, she wouldn't be squirming in her seat for twenty minutes before messing herself, which she knew she would if she didn't just let it go by itself.

Luckily, Berkley had become a master of messing herself without alerting everyone around her immediately, which was something she knew Bailey had never learned to do. Berkley leaned over her classwork, which was a sheet of questions she was supposed to be answering from the textbook; she leaned over and pretended to ruffle through her backpack for the book, and discreetly pushed. There was a hiss of expelled gas as Berkley clenched her stomach muscles and pushed, followed by a warm heaviness in the crotch of her diaper as her bladder let go, even though Berkley hadn't really needed to pee. That was only the beginning, however, as a solid mass soon began to inch its way into the semi-confined space between her cheeks and the familiar, soft padding around them.

Less than a minute later, the brunette girl behind her was pulling her blouse up over her nose and fumbling about in her purse, before finally managing to extract a tiny bottle of perfume, which she sprayed vigorously in Berkley's direction, while mumbling, "Oh dear God!" over and over again in between series of coughs and gags.

The teacher had obviously been told that Berkley was incontinent, because she just told the class to quiet down, ignore the smell, and pay attention to their work, because, "The poor girl can't help it." Berkley blazed red with embarrassment. Before the start of the quarter, in the few weeks between her first accident and the start of Holiday Break, she'd only ever messed herself within the last few minutes of class, but this class was nearly an hour long, and she'd managed to wet and mess herself within the first ten minutes.

Despite the teacher's urging for the class to ignore what Berkley had just done and get on with things that were more important, the students in Berkley's immediate vicinity wouldn't stay quiet for long. Some jested lightheartedly, asking Berkley what she'd eaten that morning, and playfully pinching their noses, but the majority of them seemed to be very upset about having to sit near a girl who had just pooped her pants, and some of the more eccentric ones were even making retching noises.

Somehow, Berkley managed to get her work done, however, despite the embarrassment of having messed herself so early on in class. In fact, she seemed to be one of the few people in the class who'd been able to keep focused long enough to get through the entire sheet and even some of the bonus questions.

After class was over, she made her way as quickly as she could to the nurse's office, which was around the corner at the end of the hall in the direction she'd come from on the way to class. The nurse looked up as she stepped into the room, saw who it was and simply pointed to an empty chair beside the small bathroom. Berkley supposed that somebody must be in the bathroom, because the door was closed and she thought she could hear movement inside.

She took her place, and shuddered as she heard the unmistakable sounds of somebody being sick on the other side of the door. She shifted uncomfortably from side to side, never minding the fact that this rocking motion would only make it more difficult for her to clean herself up. Several minutes passed and the bell for third period rang before the person occupying the bathroom finally came out. Berkley looked up as the door opened and went scarlet when she saw it was a boy; not just any boy, but perhaps one of the most attractive boys in the school, despite looking pale and shaky – he was obviously not feeling well.

Berkley suddenly found herself wishing she'd been able to hold off messing just an hour longer than she had, because there was no way this guy, whoever he was, could mistake her situation for anything other than it was. For one, she was known throughout the school for her poor bowel control; two, she had the very distinct aroma surrounding her of somebody who was in desperate need of a new pair of underwear. To make matters slightly more straightforward, however, she'd just been reaching down to grab a new diaper from her bag when the door had opened, and though she hadn't extracted one completely, the one she'd been attempting to grab was sticking half-way out of her bag.

Berkley felt her pulse quicken as the boy sniffed the air briefly, glanced at Berkley, then at the half-exposed diaper in her bag, her crotch and back at her face, smirked slightly and walked away. She buried her face in her hands until he'd disappeared out the office door in the direction of the parking lot, where he would either be picked up or drive himself home.

When the boy was completely out of her line of sight, Berkley scrambled into the bathroom, where she removed her jumper, and assessed the best way to remove her diaper. It would have been easier if there was a place she could lie down, but the room was only a 3x4, with nowhere near enough room for her to stretch out. It took her several minutes to get herself positioned and cleaned up in a way that wouldn't result in her getting poop all over her clean jumper, but in the end it was done and she was cleaned up.

She redressed herself quickly, and couldn't help but feel that it wasn't going to be a pleasant day. The day was, after all, just beginning, and she'd already managed to mess herself quite embarrassingly. On top of that, the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on had seen her at what had to be the least attractive moment possible, with the small exception, perhaps, of when she'd actually begun messing herself. Sure, teenagers sometimes have accidents, this Berkley knew all too well. They are rare, and they are embarrassing to those who experienced them, but they happen. When a high school student has an accident, they may be teased for weeks or a few months, but people have a magnificent tendency to forget. Berkley, however, couldn't hope that by the end of the month, or even the month after, people would begin talking of other things. No, her frequent messings and wettings would ensure that it would remain a hot topic for as long as she was in school.

Berkley arrived late to her next class by nearly ten minutes, but after handing the teacher the nurse's note, explaining why, she was permitted to take her seat. Once more, this was a new class, and her classmates pointed and whispered and sometimes snickered as she found her seat. This class seemed to be seated alphabetically, so she was motioned to a seat in the very front row, just in front of the teacher's desk. She saw that there were at least one or two people from her second period class in this class as well, and heard them whispering to their neighbors the story of what had just happened, which seemed to garner what Berkley assumed to be gasps of disgust from the boys and a few giggles of amusement from the girls.

The class passed, though by the end, it seemed that most of the class was at least semi-aware of what had happened in the previous class, and shot Berkley disapproving looks as they all shuffled mindlessly toward the door. She wished the teacher would have at least said something to try to get them to quiet down, because the second half of the class had mostly been drowned out by harsh whispers, all too often directed at Berkley herself, asking how she'd forgotten how to use the toilet.

The rest of the day was much the same, as her fourth, sixth and seventh period classes were all carried over from the first semester. Her fifth period class, however, was new, and was by far her favorite class. It was an art class, which was a subject she'd always loved, but hadn't taken since the first semester of her sophomore year. Berkley wasn't really much of an artist, but it was the atmosphere she loved. In this class, she was allowed to get up and walk around if need be, which also meant that she could, if need be, move away from everyone whilst she filled her diaper, and that anyone who might smell it could likewise walk away, rather than being restricted to sitting right in her cloud of foul smelling air. In addition, the teachers were much more laid back, and she was allowed to leave the class to change in the middle if she needed, so long as she finished her projects on time.

The teacher called attendance, and all but a few people announced that they were indeed present. The class turned out to be every bit as fun as Berkley had expected it to be. The teacher told them how they'd be working on wire sculptures for their first project, and set them to work after a short, albeit uninteresting, demonstration. Berkley's sculpture was looking a tad shabby by the end of class, but not nearly as shabby as the diaper which sagged miserably between her thighs. She didn't bother to get another change, however, as she had been much wetter much earlier in the day, and knew there was only the slightest chance that she'd wet much more before the end of the day.

This turned out to be true, as she only wet once more, just a few small spurts, during seventh period which wasn't nearly enough to cause a leak. Most of the added warmth from her wet diaper had faded by the time she was done with the school day, which was unfortunate, but she could hardly call it uncomfortable. Sure, the additional warmth would have been nice, seeing as it was early January, and the temperature was in the high twenties, but the diaper was kept warm by her own body, and was held against it in close proximity by the jumper, through which anyone could clearly see the outline of her swollen diaper.

Berkley couldn't pretend that she wasn't ecstatic for the day to be over. The only good part of it, after all, had been art class, which had also been the only class in which most people didn't seem to be whispering behind her back, or shooting her odd or unfriendly looks. Everyone in her seventh period class, including the teacher, seemed much less warmly inclined toward her than they had the previous quarter. Avoiding bitter thoughts, and relishing the comforting semi-warmth which hung between her thighs, she made her way half-heartedly to her car, cleaned a thin layer of snow off the windows, and drove home.

Part 10: Blossoming Bruhns

Chapter 1: Eric and Bailey

Bailey had been out of her punishment for a little more than a week. She'd delighted in every opportunity in which she was allowed to unlock the bathroom door, close it behind her, drop her pants, and use the toilet like a normal adult should, with the only flaw being she needed to undo her diaper first. She could remember the days quite well when she still wore normal, cloth panties, and how quickly she used to be able to slide them down before sitting herself upon the porcelain throne. She didn't complain, however, as she'd gotten quite used to her diapers, and had perhaps even grown fond of them over the past six months.

She'd awoken this morning in early January, with the distinct urge to poop. Still groggy, and more than a little unwilling to get up just yet, she'd gone ahead and relaxed herself to begin filling her diaper when she remembered that she didn't need to do that anymore. She quickly stopped herself, which was a close call in its own right, and hopped to her feet. She opened her desk drawer, removed the key which lay therein, and skipped off down the hall, where the bathroom door stood resolutely shut. She forced the key into the lock, turned it with a casual twist of her wrist, and opened the door.

She placed the key into her pocket, and turned toward the toilet. She carefully undid her jeans. Now that she was back to wearing them, she had to remind herself to unbutton and unzip her pants slowly, or else run the risk of getting some of the plastic from her diaper caught in the zipper and ripping it. That, at least, had been one of the benefits of wearing jumpers all the time; the jumpers could be removed simply by sliding off the shoulder straps and stepping out of them.

With her pants unzipped, Bailey set to work untaping her diaper, while making sure not to tug too hard, which, like the zipper, might rip the plastic. Admitted, she hadn't had a problem with the plastic ripping since her first few months in diapers, back in high school, before she'd gotten used to changing herself. She used to try to undo them quickly, hoping to get to the toilet before wetting herself, and as a result, her diapers would rip in places, and she'd be forced to get a whole new diaper, even if she hadn't used the first one.

She finally managed to get the diaper untaped, but realized at once that she'd need to change her diaper anyways. The diaper was, after all, thoroughly soaked. Rarely anymore, did she ever wake up in a dry diaper, and today was no different. It was in quite poor shape, and the smell of stale urine hit her nose seconds after she'd undone the tapes. She'd gotten somewhat used to being changed on her back, where the smell of her used diapers didn't often reach her, but now that she was back to changing herself, she needed to get used to the fact that there would be downsides.

She put the used diaper into the diaper bin which stood between the sink and the toilet, and sat herself on the toilet, where she sighed contentedly as she began to empty her bowels not into her diaper, but into an actual toilet. Sure, it was something she'd done several times since Christmas, but she still felt her heart skip a beat as soon as she felt her body expelling the warm, solid masses of poop, and not having to feel it pressing against her skin. She smiled with each liquid "plunk" she heard, and even at the occasional backsplash that managed to reach her. When she had finished, she tried very hard to pee a little bit, but only a small drizzle came out. She gave it up as a bad job, wiped, and stood up.

She pulled a fresh diaper out of the cabinet beneath the sink and quickly, but proficiently put it on, in case her bladder decided it would be a good time to empty itself again, whilst she stood there, unprotected. She knew she didn't feel like she needed to pee, but that was no different than usual. If she could tell she needed to pee, after all, she'd likely never have needed diapers in the first place. A few years back, when all the trouble with her bladder had started, she'd more often than not be able to tell she needed to go to the bathroom, even if she couldn't make it there on time, but over time, that sensation that told her she should get her butt moving to the nearest bathroom had faded into nothing.

Bailey had barely gotten her jeans back on when she heard her phone going off back in her room. She grabbed the door, twisted the lock shut on her way out, and pulled the door closed with a resounding thud. She managed to grab her phone off of the charger by her bed before it stopped ringing, and was more than a little pleased to hear the soft, semi-melodious voice of Eric greet her from the other end.

"Good morning, my Love," he said happily, sounding much more awake than Bailey felt.

"G-Good morning," she replied, trying and failing to suppress a yawn as she spoke. She was pleased to hear from him, yes, but she had also been hoping to go back to bed and get at least another hour or two worth of sleep. They had, however, had so very little time to spend together lately, due to his relentless work schedule, that she was more than willing to wake up a bit early for him.

"Aw, you sound sleepy. Did I wake you up?" He asked, and Bailey knew he was smiling.

"Nope, I'd just gotten up a few minutes ago but am still dead tired," she replied, successfully suppressing a yawn as she finished the last word.

"You can go back to sleep then, and I can wake you up in another hour or so," he said, somehow sounding both unconcerned and a little put-off at the same time.

"No, no, it's alright. Did you want to hang out?" Bailey asked, as she laid back down on her bed, and rolled over onto her side.

"Well, yes, that's actually why I was calling. I have a few hours before I need to go to work, and wanted to know if you'd like to join me for some breakfast? I seem to have accidentally prepared just enough scrambled eggs, pancakes, and toast for two, and yet I am the only one here. Rather unfortunate, really, since I don't think I can eat it all by myself. Luckily, I've planned ahead, and am already parked outside."

Bailey didn't hesitate, but squeaked loudly, "Be right out!" and was immediately on her feet. She was down the stairs and out the door mere seconds later, having streaked right passed her mom, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table.

She grinned widely as she saw Eric's car sitting in the driveway beside the van, and hear the electric locks pop up just before she pulled up the handle and hopped inside. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek, and was pleased to see him smile.

Bailey pulled her seatbelt over her shoulder, clicked it into place and a moment later the two of them were off. Though they'd been together for a while now, she'd only ever been over to his house on a few occasions times, all of which had been whilst his parents were present, and she was more than a little glad that they were gone this time. She was sure her mom wouldn't approve of her being left alone in an empty house with a boy, however, but what her mom didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Besides, she wasn't ready for sex. Not yet, anyways.

Oh, it wasn't that she didn't think of it now and then, and Eric was certainly attractive enough – Hell, it wasn't even like they were completely platonic, but in the end, her diaper had always remained firmly in place, and Eric's underwear had never come off, though occasionally he needed to change them when they were done. Bailey just had a strong suspicion that Eric had some sort of weird fetish about her diaper, and she wasn't sure she liked that. Whenever they were getting into it, for example, and her jeans would come off, he'd immediately run his hands over her padded behind, and however aroused he'd been before, he immediately became ten times more so.

Now they were pulling into his driveway, and Bailey saw for herself that Eric's parents were indeed gone. Both his mom's car and his dad's truck were absent from the driveway. Eric was out and around to Bailey's side of the car before she'd even registered they'd come to a complete stop, and was helping her out of the car.

"Careful," he said, "The driveway's still a little icy. I salted it before I came to get you, but it doesn't seem to have done as good of a job as I'd hoped."

Bailey stepped out, and was immediately glad Eric had taken hold of her, because the ground seemed to disappear from under her as soon as she stood up. She bumped her head on the car, and saw lights popping in front of her eyes for a split second, but Eric pulled her back and stopped her from falling all the way to the ground. The two of them chuckled as they walked to the door, with Bailey trying to run the spot on her head that she'd bumped, and Eric trying to kiss it.

Once inside, they each kicked off their shoes by the door. Bailey followed him, hand-in-hand, into the dining room, where two plates, piled high with eggs and toast and pancakes, were waiting for them. Eric let go of her hand and pulled her chair out for her, and she blushed. Always treated her like royalty, something which embarrassed her occasionally. She sat down, and Eric joined her at the other set place a moment later.

The two of them ate greedily and managed to clear their plates within a few short minutes. Eric finished first, and as soon as Bailey had cleaned her own plate, he whisked it away to the kitchen, where a few clinking noises told her he'd put it in the dishwasher. He returned a moment later carrying a couple of soda's, asked if she wanted one, and passed her one when she said she would. He took her free hand and led her to the couch. He motioned for her to sit, to which she complied. He vanished for a couple of minutes before coming back holding a DVD case, and smiling.

Bailey grinned when she saw what movie it was that Eric held up, "The Princess Bride," one of her all time favorite movies. She relaxed a bit more after he put the movie in and sat down next to her. She even consented to rest her head against his chest. She didn't even care about the creeping warmth spreading through her diaper, or the slightly increased "thump-thump" of Eric's heart, pounding in her ear as her bladder's contents sprayed loudly into the absorbent padding.

Less than halfway through the movie, Bailey had fallen asleep and woke up just as the credits finished rolling. She'd awoken to Eric shaking her gently, whispering, "Wake up, my Love. The movie's over." She stretched and yawned, and gasped as she realized that her diaper was much bulkier than usual – she'd evidently wet quite a bit more in her sleep and she wondered if Eric had noticed. She hoped he hadn't, but wasn't really concerned if he had – it wouldn't have been the first time she'd wet in her sleep with him around, and it didn't look to be the last.

"Come on, let's head upstairs," Eric said, a mischievous grin on his face, as he helped her up from the overly comfortable couch.

Bailey looked at the clock – it was a little after noon.

"When will your parents be home?" she asked, knowing that Eric wanted to fool around for a while, both from the mischievous grin he'd given her and a quick glance down at his pants. She had no problem with fooling around with him, so long as her diaper remained on the whole time.

"Oh, Dad's on a business trip; he left two days ago, and Mom should be at the office until around 6 or 7pm." He said, and kissed her firmly in the middle of her forehead.

"Ah, alright then –" said Bailey, and she lunged at him, kissing every part of his face she could reach, though being a good deal shorter than him, wasn't saying much. She grabbed his forearm and tugged him toward the stairs that lead up to his room, and he followed without a shred of hesitation.

The two young adults stomped up the stairs with all the energy of children running to their parents room to tell them, "Mom! Dad! Santa came!" Bailey released his arm as they entered his door and leaped onto his bed, which bounced her back into the air a couple of times, then settled. Eric stopped as he entered the doorway, pulled the door shut and thumbed the lock shut – "Just in case; sometimes my mom comes home early."

It was only as they'd begun getting particularly physical that Bailey remembered that her diaper was soaked to the core, and really wished she'd gone to change before hauling him up here, because now that they were going, she didn't want to stop. Admitted, the only things that had come off so far were their shirts and her bra, but she knew their pattern, and within a few minutes, the pants would be coming off, and Eric would actually see the ruined diaper – something she'd managed to prevent up until now.

Sure enough, after a few more minutes of purely blissful make-out time, Eric began trying to undo the button on her jeans. She wanted to smack it away, to tell him, "Not this time," but couldn't. Some part of her brain didn't want to interrupt the fun time they were enjoying just to go change – it'd be like going, "Hold that sexy image of me while I go to the John."

Eric finally got the button undone, all the while kissing and stroking her passionately all over. He undid her zipper next, reared up and tugged at the waistband, which slid amazingly easily all the way off. He took one glace at her yellowed diaper and chuckled bashfully to himself, before unbuttoning his own jeans, and kicking them off haphazardly, almost knocking over a tall lamp as he did so.

Bailey knew she must look a sight – a grown woman, with shoulder-length brown hair and bright green eyes, dressed in absolutely nothing but an obviously wet, bulging diaper. Eric, oddly enough, didn't seem to mind, and from what Bailey could see of him as he stood over her in just his underwear, found it very sexy. There was no hiding it from her – Eric had been excited before just from making out, but it was seeing her like this – diapered and wet, that really got him going, and Bailey found herself oddly alright with this confirmed suspicion, completely contrary to how she'd thought before.

"If I have a problem, and that problem is a turn-on for my boyfriend, then it may not be a problem at all," she thought to herself, and Eric positioned himself between her thighs.

Several minutes of pure ecstasy for the both later, in which Bailey's thighs were burning like she'd run a mile, they were finished. Eric had asked only once if they could do anything more than "The dry stuff" as they both called it, despite the fact that neither of them was very dry anymore – Bailey's diaper was on the verge of leaking, her bladder having emptied itself again at the height of her pleasure, and Eric ‘s underwear now sporting a quarter-sized wet-patch from where he'd unloaded. Bailey had declined though, and she very dearly wondered how much longer either of them could wait. This time was the perfect example of what she was worried about – she'd wet when she came, and doubted it would have ended differently if he'd been inside her when it happened.

Bailey saw Eric fully naked for the first time that day; as he cleaned himself off with a couple of tissues right in front of her, he tried to wipe his underwear clean in a similar fashion, but couldn't quite get it all out. As a result, he had to grab a new pair of underwear instead, sparing the briefest of glances her way as he pulled on a clean pair of boxer-briefs.

Bailey was tempted just to change herself in front of Eric, both because she knew he wouldn't mind, and because he'd shown her all of him, and thought it would only be fair if she showed him all of her, but was just too embarrassed, and ventured to the bathroom to change herself instead.

They hung out for a couple more hours until it was time for Eric to head to work. During this time, Eric had prepared Bailey some more food, which she ate, despite the fact that she was still full from the amazing breakfast they'd eaten earlier that day. Therefore, by the time they were preparing to head on home, Bailey was already bursting to poop, but refused, knowing she was now permitted to use the toilet at home again.

Eric had taken notice of her desperate situation, but seemed unwilling to draw too much attention to this fact.

"Need to use the bathroom?" he'd said, after one particular moment of weakness, in which Bailey had bounced uneasily in her seat, one hand rubbing her stomach.

"Yeah," Bailey said plainly, not wanting to discuss it much. She'd knew Eric would like for her to mess her diaper, even if he wasn't there to see it, but she wouldn't. She'd convinced herself that it was ok to wet, but when it came to messing, that was something she'd only do if she couldn't stop herself, or if it was just too inconvenient to go to the bathroom. If her mom hadn't assured her at the end of her punishment that it was alright, she still wouldn't even consider it an option whatsoever.

Eric simply nodded attentively as he turned onto Bailey's street. He gave her a quick kiss and swatted her playfully on the butt as she went to get out of his car. The results of this were fairly unexpected, but very welcome to Eric.

Bailey had to pinch her cheeks together tighter than she could ever remember doing, as she stood up straight and placed both hands over her butt.

"Close one," she said a little loudly, as she took a few casual steps away from the car. Though she'd managed to avoid messing herself through sheer force of will – her bowel control was still very poor compared to what it had once been – she'd expelled a warm cloud of gas, and didn't want Eric to smell it. She waved Eric off, blew him a kiss and ran inside. She barely managed to make it up all those god-forsaken stairs whilst pinching her cheeks together all the way. Somehow she managed it though, and seconds later had unlocked the door, stripped off her jeans and diaper, and sat herself on the toilet, before expelling what seemed like a hundred pounds of hot mud.

Chapter 2: Trouble at School

It was the end of January now, and with blizzard-like snowstorms for the last few days, Berkley had been out of school for four days straight due to school being cancelled on Monday and Tuesday, following a very snowy weekend. Now, however, the snow plows had finally gotten around to clearing the bulk of the snow up, and the salt trucks were doing their best to keep the ice at a minimum.

Berkley had awoken early that Wednesday to see if school had been cancelled again, and would have been happy to simply lie in bed, relishing the warm wetness that filled her diaper. She still didn't wet the bed, but would usually wake up with a throbbing bladder and immediately empty it with hardly a thought. Sometimes she'd even go back to sleep, but not today. No, today she must get up, and check the news stations for school closures.

She fumbled around through the bars of her crib; eyes still closed with sleepiness, and finally unlatched the side, letting her out. Occasionally her mom would feign anger at how she was not to let herself out, but must be let out by someone else, but this was rare, and generally just something to keep Berkley on her toes.

After she'd freed herself from her crib, she crept downstairs, where she could already hear the television blaring news coverage about the weather. She stumbled on the last step, her heel slipping off the bottom step onto the hardwood floor with a loud and very painful thud. The noise from the television silenced immediately.

"You've got school today, Berkley," came the voice of her mother from the living room.

"Best get you changed now. I suppose you're already wet?" the voice came again, louder, and closer. A second later, Beth emerged around the corner, her feet having hardly made a sound, or perhaps Berkley's ears were still muffled with sleep as well. In either case, her mom took her by the wrist and dragged her gently over to the changing table still set up in the living room.

Berkley was always astounded at how good her mother, Beth, had gotten at changing diapers over the last seven months. She'd been a bit out of practice changing any diapers other than her own since Berkley had first gotten out of diapers so many years ago, and had helped Bailey a little bit when she'd first begun to lose control, though Bailey had always done most of the work then, and she'd only helped get the tapes snug, but comfortable. Now, she could change even the messiest of diapers on her near-adult daughter in a couple of minutes, and a wet one in about forty-five seconds, as she did now.

A minute after laying down on the table, Berkley was in a fresh, dry diaper, though she wished her mom had at least given her the chance to mess before dragging her off to be changed, that way it'd be almost the end of the school day before she messed again, or at least over halfway through. Now she'd almost certainly be messing by the end of third period, maybe even as early as second period. Though she knew it was for the best – it was either mess in school or risk losing her diapers forever – she still didn't much like messing herself in public, particularly around the more attractive of her classmates.

Berkley had learned about a week ago that the boy she'd seen in the nurse's office was actually a new classmate of hers in her art class who had taken ill on the same day the new semester had started, and was thus absent from class for a few days. His name was Oliver Krantz, though most people – teachers included – called him Ollie. So far, at least, Berkley had thus far managed to avoid direct eye contact with him, though she thought she'd seen him looking over at her from time to time out of the corner of her eye during art class. Usually, if she'd sneak a glance over at him when she'd been so sure he'd been looking, she'd see him turn immediately to the person working beside him and strike up a conversation. Berkley hoped their topic of conversation wasn't what kind of underwear she was wearing.

Berkley went upstairs to get dressed, as she felt it might not be in her best interests to head to school in a t-shirt and diaper, though it'd make for an interesting conversation starter. She rummaged through the various, yet similar clothes available to her and settled on a black denim jumper with red rose adornments over the snaps. She wore this over a plain red t-shirt, and was fairly pleased at the way it looked. All-in-all, she thought it looked very grown up for an outfit designed specifically to make her look babyish.

Since she'd gotten up early to check the weather, she was able to take her time and eat a decent breakfast for a change. Typically, she'd just grab some cereal, add some milk, and be done with it, but today she was able to enjoy a plate of eggs and toast with grape jam and butter. She wolfed it down, knowing full well that it would end up in her diaper late that evening. She didn't care, however, as that was what happened every evening, as well as several other times a day, and at least once during school.

When she'd finished eating, she looked over at the clock, saw that it was basically time for her to leave, and then headed back upstairs. She grabbed her backpack, and went downstairs, where her mom handed her a fresh diaper, as usual. Already feeling the first rumblings in her stomach, and knowing there was nothing more she could do about it, she headed out the door.

She got to school, and growled in frustration at the mismatched way everyone was parked due to the snow – it was as if nobody had the faintest idea how the lines in the parking lot were usually painted without a visual aide. Typically, the rows were divided into several one-way rows, but the parking lot, which hadn't been plowed very thoroughly, was a disaster area. There were a few cars parked diagonally, as usual, but there were a lot of people who'd just parked wherever they thought their car would fit. Some people had even had the nerve to park so that the side of their car was virtually two inches from the front or rear of another car – a position that Berkley knew must be taking up two or three parking spaces. She finally managed to park, and could only hope nobody blocked her in, as she was sure she'd be in desperate need of a change by the end of school, and didn't want to sit around for an hour whilst everybody tried to maneuver out of the lot.

The first bell had already rung by the time Berkley had gotten to her homeroom, and she'd barely had time to sit her stuff down and explain why she was late before the second bell rang, and it was time for her to head to her first period class. By the time her first class ended, Berkley was already feeling the gassy build-up that told her she'd be needing to make a trip to the nurse's office before long. She could only hope that this time, it would be between classes, as sitting through any part of a class in a messy diaper was just too embarrassing for her taste. She'd learned to cope with it somewhat, especially now that all the fuss had died down.

Admitted, Berkley still had that annoying girl in her second period class, whose seat was right behind hers, and who had to put up with Berkley's ‘poor bowel control.' This girl, whom Berkley had learned was named Kristen, never hesitated to express her disgust with Berkley whenever they were within whispering distance of one another. She'd stopped saying things allowed after she'd been given detention for refusing to quiet down following one of Berkley's lapses in control, though in truth, Berkley had messed that time specifically to tick her off.

Other than the girl in her World Geography class, however, most people had come to accept that Berkley had a genuine medical condition, though she didn't really, and though they kept their distance, they kept their comments to themselves. Berkley was thankful to this, because despite having a completely ruined reputation, she was able to have an almost normal school day, minus the trips to the nurse's office.

Unluckily for Berkley, however, it was once again second period when her bowels were becoming too agitated to deal with. She realized she'd been shifting uncomfortably for what must have been ten seconds, and knew if she kept it up, she'd give away the fact that she still had bowel control. She feigned a surprised look, as she pushed out an abnormally solid load into her diaper, having to lift up her butt a good amount to get it all out, before throwing a falsely apologetic look over her shoulder at Kristen, who looked scandalized once again.

This time, the mess in Berkley's diaper didn't smell nearly as bad as usual. In fact, it was only a faint scent lingering in the air, but Kristen didn't seem to care. After class let out, she followed Berkley down the hall, almost all the way to the nurse's office and kicked her in the butt. The kick wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was definitely hard enough to smash the mess in Berkley's diaper more than a simple sitting would have done.

Berkley whirled around and saw Kristen, who smirked, gave a malicious laugh, and turned on the spot to walk back down the hall to her next class. Without a second thought, Berkley reached out and grabbed at Kristen's hair and tugged hard. Kristen jerked back and stumbled before she came tumbling down. As she fell, her arm shot out and grasped the front of Berkley's jumper.

There was a ripping sound just before Kristen finally hit the ground, and the hall filled with laughter, jeers and whispers. Berkley was now standing in the middle of the hall with her torn jumper around her ankles. The straps which had held it up had both ripped at the seams. Berkley was petrified as she looked down at her fallen nemesis, then at herself – her diaper, complete with the bulge she'd just produced in her previous class, was on display for all to see. She quickly composed herself and pulled her jumper up to obscure her shameful state, before darting amidst the guffawing students to the nurse's office.

She managed not to cry as she cleaned herself up in the nurse's office – a process made all the more arduous by the fact that her mess had been squashed against her. Her mom stopped by to drop off a new jumper for her, and took the damaged one home to sew it up. As a result of having to wait for her mom, Berkley was nearly fifteen minutes late to her next class. She had to endure what seemed like relentless laughter when it had seemed like people were finally forgetting about her. She now had random people coming up to her, seemingly for no other reason than to make poorly thought out jokes about how babies don't belong in ‘big kid school.'

Luckily, by the time art class came around, some of the novelty of her attire had worn off again. By then, only a few people still seemed to find her situation humorous, and those few were usually silenced by the faculty with threats of detention. Berkley had expected some sort of backlash for the scuffle in the hallway earlier, particularly as she'd pulled the hair of another student, but it seemed the faculty were taking pity on her, and didn't want to punish her.

They were starting clay sculptures in their art class today, something that Berkley had been looking forward to. She'd been working on hers for quite a while when she heard a girl talking about how the clay looked "like it came out of Berkley Bruhn." Berkley felt her face burn at this through a combination of shame and rage. Several minutes later, however, she heard that same girl yell, "What the Hell!?" Berkley looked up and saw the girl with her head turned, trying to inspect her own butt. To Berkley's surprise, her butt seemed to be covered with some sort of brown liquid. At first she thought the girl had an accident, but then realized she must have sat in a puddle of over-wet clay.

"That ought to keep her quiet for a while," came a boy's voice from directly behind Berkley.

Berkley spun around in her seat without thinking, and ended up head-butting Oliver Krantz in the nose. They both simultaneously covered their faces – Berkley from shock, and Oliver from pain.

"I'm so sorry!" she yelped, and she was glad to see that as Oliver pulled his own hands away, his nose wasn't bleeding.

"My fault, my fault..." he said, touching the sides of his nose, as if to confirm that it was still attached to his face.

"Do you think you should go to the nurse's office? It looks a little swollen," Berkley said, and bit her lip. It was quite true; his nose was definitely a bit larger around the bridge than it had been before, and had a distinct red-purple tinge to it. Admitted, she'd had very little time to look at his face properly before, but she knew a swollen nose when she saw one, having sustained a couple herself over the years.

"N-Nah, I'll be fine, how's your head?" he asked, finally pulling his hand away from his now, though wincing as he did.

"Oh, it's fine. I barely even felt it connect," she said, at last lifting her hand to her own forehead, and rubbing the spot that had hit him. She then looked up, and grinned. She didn't know why, but she did. Then the best thing that day happened to her – he smiled back.

By the time school let out, Berkley's diaper was soaked, as she'd wet just after sixth period, when she realized her bladder had been aching for the majority of the time she'd been talking to Oliver. She hadn't wanted to risk wetting while she talked to him, for fear he'd take notice. She knew he must be aware that she wore diapers – after all, everyone knew she wore them, but she thought he must not be too put off by them, as he ignored all the odd looks people were giving them whilst they talked.

Berkley had just decided that, despite everything, the day hadn't been a complete waste, when she got out to the parking lot, and saw the trouble. Traffic was at a standstill, because too many people had parked incorrectly. People were boxed in, and others were screaming their heads off at other drivers for minor scratches in their bumpers from where other cars had slid into them, or else bumped them while trying to back out of their parking spot.

Berkley looked around frantically for her own car and spotted it, completely boxed in with a line of completely stationary cars both behind and in front of hers. Berkley could hardly get to her car, let alone get back into it. Even if she could get in, it would have been impossible for her to go anywhere, because of all the traffic.

With a groan of exasperation, she went back inside to keep warm, hoping that the bulk of the traffic would clear out before her body decided it was time for her to poop again. If she'd brought another diaper, she'd have gladly waited as long as reasonably necessary to get out of the parking lot; she could even change herself in the bathroom if necessary, or in the nurse's office was still open, she could change there, but she had nothing to change into. Unfortunately, however, her breakfast seemed ready to say good-bye to Berkley. She thought she could actually feel it drop into her colon, and hoped very strongly that the traffic hold-up would disperse.

Berkley kept her mind on other things in an attempt to keep her diaper clean for a little while longer, until she could be sure of a swift change. She liked messing, of course, and the bulk of the students had either caught the buses home, or were in their cars already, so there wasn't too much of an issue with messing, but it was the weather. With the cold snap they were experiencing, a warm, messy diaper quickly turned into the feeling of sitting on refrigerated clay, which was something Berkley didn't enjoy.

Sure, she could stay inside until the traffic dispersed, but inside the smell of a messy diaper was too noticeable. Admitted, most of the staff were already aware of who she was and what her situation entailed, but she didn't want to risk being approached and questioned. She knew there was always the risk that a teacher, smelling her mess, would ask if she was alright, and may try to lead her to the nurse.

No, messing simply wasn't a good option, though it was something she knew she'd have to do soon. Fifteen minutes? Maybe twenty? She couldn't be sure, but it would be soon, and certainly before she got home. She simply stood, leaning lethargically against the wall, staring out at the parking lot as one-by-one, the cars left, despite there being three different exits – two of them were completely blocked by traffic.

Ten more minutes went by, and Berkley was shifting her weight from leg to leg, right to left, then back to right, all within seconds of one another. She tried to think of Oliver, hoping the pleasant thoughts of him, and his brilliant blue eyes might drive the need to mess away – his presence had certainly staved off the need to pee earlier, but no such luck. When this failed, she turned to wicked thoughts of all the ways she'd like to torture Kristen for the humiliation she'd caused her earlier, but that yielded no better results.

Traffic had died down, and she was finally able to get into the driver's side door of her car, though the backed up traffic prevented her from backing out or pulling forward, and so she resolved to wait again.

Five more minutes passed, and though she was sitting, she was forced to clench and re-clench her sphincter, still unwilling to mess until she was sure she could get changed within a few minutes. She was shaking and sweating, despite the cold weather all around her. She could feel the build-up of gas and solid waste all throughout her abdomen, and knew it was a matter of minutes, perhaps only moments before she lost all control.

Then it happened; that all too familiar sensation of having insufficient strength to hold on. She squeezed one last futile time, and felt globs of warm, semi-solid mud squirt out of her, followed momentarily by a searing pain in her sphincter as copious amounts of poop pushed its way into the confines of her diaper, and by a terrible smell, worse than her usual messes by far.

Berkley groaned and banged her head lazily on the steering wheel of her car. Why did it have to happen now? Couldn't it have waited until she'd been some place more convenient? From the way it was looking, it might be another fifteen minutes before she could even get out of the parking lot, let alone get home and changed into a nice, clean diaper.

A few minutes later, the line of traffic behind her car had moved up enough that she could at least back out and join the line, instead of waiting miserably in her parking spot. She shifted uncomfortably in the mess she'd made, and thought it felt oddly like warm pasta sauce with chunks of tomato in it and tried not to retch.

At long last, after fifteen minutes in a messy diaper, she was out of the parking lot and on the road. Unfortunately, the snow had picked up again and she had to drive even more slowly than she'd anticipated. As a result, it was nearly a quarter after four in the afternoon by the time she got home and changed, by which point she'd been in a messy diaper for nearly half an hour.

Her mom had seemed surprised to see Berkley home so late, and while she changed her youngest daughter, she questioned her on whether she'd been hanging out with some of her old friends. Berkley replied listlessly that she didn't have any friends anymore, and remembered with a pang of sorrow that she'd once been very popular.

Berkley shuddered as her mom applied some soothing cream to her rectum, which did away with a lot of the pain that had resulted from the liquid mess, thanked her mom absently as she hopped down off the table, not even bothering to put her jumper back on, and went upstairs, thinking of her story for the first time in a week, and as images of Oliver flashed in her mind, she thought she might include a romance chapter, if it didn't come off sounding too corny.

Part 11: Progress

Chapter 1: Breaking Tension

Warning – For the first time in 100+ pages, this chapter will contain graphic sexual content.

As this story is on an adult-only website, I don't expect any real issues arising from adult content.

It was now mid-February, and though the weather was still bitter cold, Bailey was lying in her room, staring at the ceiling in only a t-shirt and diaper at almost three in the afternoon. Her mind had been hazy these past few weeks, ever since she and Eric had watched The Princess Bride at his house, and had some ‘private time' in his room. They'd yet to have sex, per se, though it had certainly been on both of their minds. Bailey actually thought about it a lot nowadays, and wondered if it would ever really be alright for them to go forward with it.

Bailey, like Berkley, had been reasonably popular when they were younger, though when she'd begun losing control of her bladder at the beginning of high school, she'd isolated herself, keeping only a few close friends. She'd had a few short-term relationships, but had never really had sex. In fact, Eric was the first person she'd even permitted to see her shirtless aside from her mother and Berkley. She was nervous; thinking of what sex would be like, wondering what it felt like to have part of somebody else inside her.

Bailey wasn't completely in the dark on matters of sexual practice; she'd gone through sex-ed twice – once in elementary school, and once in high school health class. She knew how condoms and birth control worked, and had even tried masturbating a couple of times, though she only ever ended up feeling awkward and quickly stopped. She blushed furiously just remembering the times she'd tried it, and without much thought, found the tips of her fingers sliding beneath the waistband of her diaper as her mind turned helpfully to Eric.

She pushed aside the small patch of hair there and felt for the cleft with her eyes closed and her door locked. She knew her diaper was already wet, and that she was getting her hands covered in her own urine, but didn't care. Her mind was focused on Eric, and all the things they'd done, and more importantly, all the things they would do. She'd seen the part of him that would enter her, and imagined what it must feel like.

"Like this," she thought, as one finger probed the cleft, and ran over a small fleshy node, which made her toes splay out and curl. She'd gotten a taste of that before, when Eric had gotten particularly vigorous and had thrusted himself at her diaper in just the right spot, but this was much, much better. She stifled a moan as she re-ran her fingers over the small node, which swelled ever so slightly at her touch, becoming firmer and spongy. Her fingers were wet now, though she knew she hadn't peed anymore.

Tingles filled her whole being as thoughts of Eric, naked and thrusting, mixed with thoughts of herself, also naked, also thrusting. Both moaning, both sweating, and both shaking with overwhelming ecstasy. Her mind seemed to fill with light as waves of pleasure coursed over her, filling her as Eric would fill her.

Bailey's back arched as she climaxed, moaning perhaps a bit more loudly that she expected, though she thought to herself that it was worth it. Pulling her hand carefully out of her diaper, she saw it glisten with some fluid, which produced a sweet, oddly pleasant aroma, like a mix salt and flowers. She wiped her hands shame-facedly on some tissues she'd taken from a box near her bed, and thought with a jolt of embarrassment, that if she and Eric didn't break the tension soon, she'd probably run out of tissues really fast.

It was only when Bailey stood up to go wash her hands that she realized her diaper was warm and soggy again, and that she must have wet herself just as she'd climaxed. Quite unhappy with how it seemed like her bladder was dead-set against her having a happy relationship, she let out a low groan, and with her clean hand she opened the door, and stormed down the hall to the bathroom.

After she'd gotten herself cleaned up and changed into a fresh diaper, she called Eric. Despite having successfully gotten herself off for the first time in her life, her mind was still darting to thoughts of Eric and what they must do soon, if she were to hope for any peace of mind. He finally answered his phone after a few rings, sounding thoroughly pleased to hear from her.

Eric was evidently at work, but said that he would be home in a couple of hours. Bailey asked him if his parents were home, and Eric immediately caught on that she wanted to have some private time.

"No, they've actually got plans of their own tonight – it'll be my dad's birthday this weekend, and my mom's taking him out to eat at some four star restaurant. They should be out for a couple of hours at least."

"Good," said Bailey, her face going red, though Eric couldn't see it. She struggled with her next thought, whether she should ask him. She wasn't sure if they were ready for that final act, but thought she might go insane if they didn't at least try it soon. She stammered over her words for a second, before managing to spit out what she meant to ask, "...and...could you some c-condoms, on your way home?"

She felt the heat in her face increase exponentially with each passing second as she waited for Eric's reply. Only a few seconds passed, though the pounding in her chest and the heat coursing through her body seemed like they'd gone on for hours before he finally replied.

"What? Oh! Oh, um...yeah, I suppose I could that," he said, not quite able to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Alright then," began Bailey.

"I'll see you when you get here. I love you!"

"I love you too," Eric said, less than a second after Bailey had stopped talking, "See you in a couple of hours, I'll pick you up."

The two hung up simultaneously, and Bailey could feel her heart beating rhythmically in her chest as she began playing one of her favorite games just to pass the time – the time until her big moment.

When five o' clock finally rolled around, Bailey anxiously awaited Eric's arrival. She knew he'd have to stop by the store on the way over to buy condoms, and when another ten minutes had passed, she realized she was in quite a desperate need to use the bathroom, when she'd certainly not needed it a few minutes before. She clenched her cheeks together as she unintentionally passed gas with every other step as she made her way down the hall to the bathroom.

As she sat on the toilet and relieved her bowels of their stringy, semi-solid contents, she also tried to relieve her bladder. She'd somehow not wet at all since she'd masturbated earlier, and as such knew she was even more likely to pee during her and Eric's most intimate moment. Though she tried to relax her bladder, all that came out was a short, two-second trickle, before the flow tapered off into solitary droplets and ceased altogether.

She wiped herself, flushed and taped her diaper back on just as her phone began to ring. She answered it, and told Eric she'd be right out. Immediately, she realized she hadn't been wearing pants at all, all day long, and ran back to her room, threw a passing glance at Berkley's closed door, behind which she could hear the fast-paced clattering of typing that always seemed to come from Berkley's room these days, and entered her room, where she grabbed a pair of vibrant green sweat pants and pulled them on, before running down the stairs, where her mom asked if she was going to eat anything before taking off.

Bailey grabbed an apple off the counter on her way out the door, and pulled the door shut behind her. She saw Eric's car sitting casually at the end of the driveway, behind her own car, as if nothing about this day was out of the ordinary. She climbed into the passenger side, blushed as he smiled at her, and put her seat belt on, as they drove off.

A few minutes later, they arrived at his house, having passed his parents car heading the opposite direction as they pulled onto the street. The two of them went inside, Eric clicked on the light, and Bailey immediately wished he hadn't. She could see, though he tried to hide it, that there was quite a, elongated bulge in the crotch of his jeans, like something was just bursting to get out. She felt her face burn once more, and as she turned away, trying not to look at that part of him, she felt his hand take hold of her own, and pull gently.

He took her in a close embrace, and in a moment he was kissing her cheek – her neck – her chest. Her shirt was off in seconds, before she even had time to register that they were still in his living room, where his parents, having realized they'd forgotten something, might barge in at any moment. Giggling, and red as ever, she kissed him all over his own neck and chest before tugging him toward the stairs which led upstairs.

Once in his room, their clothes came off alarmingly fast. Eric, lost in the moment, took off his pants and his underwear before Bailey even knew what was happening. Her eyes darted with wonder to the slightly curved thing which jutted out from a tangled dark forest of hair. A moment later, he was kissing her again, and she could feel that hard object pressing not unwelcomingly into her diaper. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed a small box from the pocket of his discarded jeans, and Bailey saw that it was the box of condoms Eric had bought on his way to get her.

He opened it clumsily, his fingers shaking with excitement, and separated two condoms wrappers, before cautiously ripping one open, placing it on the tip of that curved piece of him, the name for which Bailey was too embarrassed to think about, knowing it would soon be deep inside of her. She watched him unroll the condom from the tip of his penis, to the base, where that forest of hair grew.

Bailey felt a warm, wet tingling in her crotch that she knew at once was not her bladder releasing, but her own body producing more of that slippery, salt-flower scented fluid. She placed the thumb and forefinger of each hand on the tapes of her diaper, hesitated for the briefest moment as she wondered what they'd do if she began peeing, and ripped the tapes open, as she decided she didn't care – what she wanted right now was Eric.

Eric pressed himself into her again, and soon her hand brushed up against that hard part of him, and she wrapped her hand around it, pumping her hand backward and forward, backward and forward. Eric kissed her more, kissed her neck and her bare chest, caressing her nipples with the tip of his tongue. Bailey was moaning, and a second later, she was on her back: Her knees; bent, and her thighs; spread.

Eric clambered on top of her, and positioned himself between her legs. This would hurt at first, she knew that much, but she still wasn't prepared for it. As Eric moved himself forward, rocking and thrusting, Bailey felt a sharp pain, as something in her ripped. She let out a hiss of pain, but motioned for Eric to keep going, as he'd shown every sign of stopping. As they progressed, the sharp pain dulled to a small throb, but as her body relaxed, and her body produced more of that salty fluid, it subsided almost entirely, or was at least overwhelmed by the ecstasy that now filled her.

She felt him inside her, and moaned audibly as he thrusted in and out, and some part of him found that little fleshy node she'd been so eager to stroke earlier. She moaned louder still, and tried to cover her face to keep herself from screaming with sheer pleasure. Faster and faster he thrusted, as the bed frame banged against the wall – thud-thud-thud-thud-thud – Her eyes rolled back to whites as she let out an audible moan, which she forced into a squeak of pure bliss, and her toes splayed and curled time and again. For the second time that day, she had climaxed, and she felt Eric beginning to shake, as his stamina was coming to an end.

That was when Bailey felt it; there was a small pool of liquid forming under her, and her face flooded with shame as she realized she'd begun peeing while Eric was still inside of her. Eric, however, seemed undeterred and kept thrusting, though he seemed to be slowing. A few seconds later, he gave a series of spasms and a few muffled grunts, and pulled himself out of her. Bailey saw that the condom, covered in a small amount of blood, was half-filled with a pearly white substance, and knew at once that those spasms had been his kind of climax.

She stood up, her face burning red from having wet Eric's bed. Eric stood up a second later, kissed her neck and fondled her breasts again, before telling her that it was alright, and that he'd wash the sheets immediately. He then grabbed a roll of paper towels, wrapped one around his now slightly-limp penis, and pulled off the condom, wrapping it up in the paper towel as he did so. At the same time, Bailey used another paper towel to wipe the clear, slippery salty-smelling fluid which had begun to drip down her legs, and replaced her diaper, taping it firmly in place, though she knew now that it might be a couple of hours before she wet again.

As soon as they'd gotten dressed again, Eric took the sheets off his bed, and Bailey blushed crimson as she saw the wet spot the size of a large dinner place right in the center. Eric put the sheets in the washing machine immediately before washing his hands. Bailey felt a bit better now, knowing that Eric was not even disturbed by her lack of control enough that he wasn't able to climax. Indeed, she felt a strong sense of accomplishment, having successfully gotten Eric to finish, as well as finishing herself.

Chapter 2: Berkley's Birthday (part 1)

It was now early March, and Berkley was excited for her upcoming birthday just a few days away. She knew it was all too likely that she'd receive nothing more than a few more jumpers, some new pacifiers, a blanket, some rubber toys, and maybe a few custom-made diapers, which if would probably say something like, "Mommy's Princess" or something similar. What Berkley was really excited for, however, was that she'd now be an adult, and legally be able to sign up for those sites she frequented so often.

Over the past few weeks, she'd been typing vigorously away at her computer, adding page after page to her already monumental story – where she might finally wrap it up and call it quits, she had no idea. Even though she'd neglected her story for what seemed like a couple of months whilst her real life-issues had taken priority, she was now over ninety pages into it in very small font. She'd changed a few details around since the early days of her story – The names of the characters, the basis of the plot, how the main character, based on herself, of course, had come to be diapered in the first place. It seemed, in fact, to be a completely different story than the one she'd started so many months ago, but it seemed infinitely better – more original.

With her birthday merely a few days away, she was desperately struggling to finish up her story, though the more she typed, the more ideas she came up with and the wider her story spread, with twists and problems to become. Whole story arcs seemed to pop up every few pages, and with each new story arc came a new chapter. She wanted more than anything to finish it, but it seemed a goal which was completely insurmountable. By the time she went to bed that night, she'd topped her story off for the night at exactly one-hundred pages in length, and knew that there were at least a few ideas which she'd gotten as she lay in bed, which she must remember to tie into the story the next time she sat down to write.

The next day was a Friday, so she had to get up for school. Unfortunately, the snowy weather they'd been experiencing in later January, which had persisted on and off throughout the course of February, had ceased. There hadn't been any new snowfall in over a week, though there were still a few inches of snow on the grown, now turned mostly brown from the mud on the few semi-warm days they'd gotten so far. The weather was still bitter cold today, however, and she wished beyond all hope that she didn't have to get out of her warm, comfy bed.

She got out of bed, her diaper wet and sagging, though she couldn't remember wetting it consciously, and blushed slightly at the idea that she may be well on her way to becoming a true bed wetter. She shambled on down the stairs, where her mom changed her, and ate a quick breakfast before getting dressed and heading on out the door.

Her day went by much the same as it had before, with her art class being as enjoyable as ever, thanks to Oliver. Because of him, she was at least able to enjoy some part of her classes, though on one particular occasion, she'd been forced to mess herself right next to him because the urge to poop had gotten so bad, she'd have gotten caught shifting from side to side before too long. She was petrified the whole time, thinking she would never be able to look him in the eye again, but as soon as he'd caught on to what had just happened, he'd gone over to the art teacher and explained that Berkley needed to go to the nurse's office. When she'd gotten back a few minutes later, nice and clean, he'd simply asked, "Better?" to which she'd simply nodded, being far too embarrassed for words.

When Berkley got home that afternoon, she immediately began typing out the things in her story which had been building up all day, adding on to the things she'd come up with the night before but had not had time to type out. Little by little her story grew, and by the time she had to go to bed that night, she'd miraculously managed to type out five more pages, but had unfortunately come no closer to an ending. If anything, the plot had become even more muddled, with several main characters intertwined throughout various chapters, with disconnected plot holes that she kept meaning to fix, but kept forgetting about.

Thoroughly exhausted and more than a little miffed that her story writing had gotten her absolutely nowhere despite her efforts, she went to bed and was out like a light within minutes. When she awoke the next morning, she thought to herself, "Tomorrow's my birthday, and I'll be spending it in diapers..." The thought was both pleasing and displeasing at the same time. She loved her diapers dearly and had come to identify herself among the diapered communities online as an Adult Baby, despite not yet being an adult. She was close enough though, as he eighteenth birthday was less than twenty-four hours away. Despite identifying herself as an adult baby, however, she also longed for the life she'd had back before all of this had happened. She missed her friends, she missed her popularity, and sometimes she even missed using the toilet. This last bit was, however, the part she missed least of all the things she'd given up for a chance to be diapered.

Before her punishment had begun so many months prior, if she had to give herself a title in the adult baby community, she'd have called herself a diaper lover, or rather a diaper enthusiast, having never really had the chance to enjoy them personally. She'd relished in the thought of them, though, and had wondered for some time why diapers weren't widely accepted among people between the ages of two and eighty, when they were such a good alternative to impractical bathroom breaks. It wasn't merely a fantasy back then, she had genuinely been confused why nobody had thought of it, and after immersing herself however much she could in the diapered community, it had struck her that a lot of people HAD thought of it, but that they were viewed as weird and dysfunctional by the wider world.

Over the last few months, Berkley had come to identify herself not so much as a diaper lover though, and had begun to lean more toward the Adult Baby side of the diapered community. She thoroughly enjoyed her diapers, not because it was a sexual appeal to her, but because they were practical, they were comfortable, and as an added bonus, they were downright adorable. She didn't like to admit it, but she really loved her onesies and her jumpers, her rattles and even her crib. She even liked having somebody else change her diapers for her, her one previous experience of changing her own diapers having been tarnished by being found out by a random stranger. She'd prefer it if -Oliver- somebody else would change her diapers though, instead of her mom. Having her mom change her diapers had become slightly less awkward after nearly eight months of changes, though it did occasionally cross her mind, particularly when she'd had a bad day already, that there was something wrong with a mother changing her diapers.

Berkley lay in her bed with her eyes closed for several minutes after waking up a little before noon that Saturday morning in early March. Her bladder had been throbbing painfully when she'd first awoken, and without so much as a second's hesitation, she'd opened the flood gates. She was now reveling in the warm dampness, breathing deeply to catch the salty-sweet aroma of her own soggy diaper – the mixture of urine and baby powder was one of her all-time favorite smells. She needed to poop as well, but put it out of her mind for now – the need was there, but it wasn't urgent. If she'd been in school, she would have gone ahead and messed without a second thought, because it was a necessary part of her ruse.

Here at home, however, she still exercised some control, however little, over her bodily functions. She didn't know why – if her plans proceeded as she intended, she'd be in diapers for the rest of her life, day in and day out forever. No, Berkley Bruhn had no intention of going back to using the toilet after her year in diapers was up. She knew her mom had tried to use the overexposure tactic on her, like when a parent has found out their child has started smoking and forces them to smoke an entire carton non-stop, so the kid will get disgusted by cigarettes. In her case, however, the overexposure tactic had backfired, and she'd come to enjoy her diapers more than she'd ever dreamed she would.

After about ten minutes of lying in her crib with the sun beating down on her face, turning the insides of her eyelids a violent red, Berkley sat up and rubbed her eyes before yawning loudly. She looked over at the clock on top of her dresser, which told her it was a quarter past eleven in the morning. She'd slept in, but not as much as she'd expected to. Normally on a Saturday, she'd stay asleep for another hour or so. As it was, she opened the hatch on her crib and climbed on out. She poked her head out of the door to her room and heard the shower going at the end of the hall – evidently Bailey was enjoying her bathroom privileges again. Berkley had been forced to take baths instead of showers since the start of her punishment, and could only do so when her mom was present.

Berkley waddled downstairs and saw her mom sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper with the Five-Day Weather Forecast muted on the TV across the room from her. Her mom looked up over the newspaper as Berkley waddled into the living room, asked casually if Berkley needed to be changed. As Berkley had just wet and knew she'd be messing before too long, she said no. Her mother looked down as the bulge beneath Berkley's onesies, which was quite swollen and sagging as much as the onesies would allow, and cast Berkley a skeptical look.

"Well," Berkley began, "I do need changed, I suppose, just not yet. I can still get some more, uh...use...out of this diaper." She blushed ever-so-slightly at the word, "use" and what it implied. Berkley's mom, however, simply shrugged, gave an acknowledging nod, and went back to reading the paper.

Berkley got herself a bottle out of the refrigerator, popped the rubber nipple into her mouth and began suckling away at it as she made her way back upstairs. She got back to her room, turned her computer back on from the night before and sat down at her computer desk, thinking hard about what she could do with her story, how she could tie up some of these loose ends and finally resolve the plot which had dragged on for what seemed an unnecessary amount of time.

Twenty minutes went by and she'd hardly written two lines. Part of this was because she was genuinely clueless where to go with the story, but mostly it was because her bowels were in uproar. She wasn't sure what she'd eaten, but that semi-important urge earlier had gone from "This is your body speaking: please evacuate cargo load #2 as soon as you get the chance" to "Warning! Cargo load #2 has reached maximum capacity! We are currently venting auxiliary pressure! Total evacuation imminent!"

Berkley jumped to her feet just as a long, low sound issued from the seat of her diaper, followed by a burning jet of warm liquid, which shot out of her quite unintentionally. If she'd not been wearing a diaper, she may very well have had her first accident here today, when she was on the verge of adulthood. She thought, with no sense of humor, "This must be what people call ‘the squirts'." She pushed a little, hoping the liquid would just be a precursor to something solid. Berkley liked messing herself, but only when the poop was at least semi-firm. Liquid mess was very acidic and uncomfortable. Not to mention it smelled worse than solid poop by far. She pushed more and more, but with each push came only more liquid, as if the entire meal now escaping her intestinal tract consisted of liquid.

Before Berkley had even finished messing, she had to open the door of her room, simply because the smell was now so unbearable. At last, she finished up, her rectum feeling as though it were on fire, and tears streaking down her cheeks from sheer discomfort. She immediately waddled down the hall and down the stairs, the sloshing of her watery mess making her wince with every step. At last, her mom saw her, and rushed over to her to take her hand. She did a double-take as the smell hit her nose, making her eyes water.

"Whew-wee!" she almost shouted as Berkley hopped up onto the changing table, and the smell began to fill the room. Beth donned a pair of thick latex gloves and stuffed some cotton balls in her nose, but even prepared thusly, she had to turn away for a moment upon opening her daughter's diaper.

"Berk, in all the years I've raised you, I don't think you've EVER made a stink this bad before!" She shouted with a laugh.

Berkley blushed, just wanting her mom to hurry up and finish the change. She'd left her computer on, with her story open, and her door unlocked and opened. She'd been away from the computer for several minutes now, and had heard Bailey's shower shut off as soon as she'd gotten to the bottom of the stairs. She waited patiently, however, as she felt the cool, soothing wipes clear away most of the mess with their first pass. The messing was so bad, however, that it had gotten into easily infected places, and Beth warned Berkley that she'd need to just lie still as she cleaned her private regions extra carefully. Her face was burning; positively burning by the time her mom pronounced her clean, powdered her up and strapped her into a new, clean diaper.

When she was all diapered up once more, she didn't even bother putting her onesies back on. Dressed in only a diaper and a plain white t-shirt, she darted back upstairs, locked the door to her bedroom behind her, and sat down at the computer. She half expected to find it scrolled all the way to the top, as if somebody had been reading it, but luckily disaster seemed to have been avoided. She didn't even want to think what would happen if her sister or her mother found out about this story.

She spent the next few hours typing, deleting and retyping pages of her story. Several times she even went back to modify completed chapters just to make the new pages fit. By three o'clock, she'd gotten seven more pages added, and two hours later, an additional five. Her eyes burned, and her hands ached from so much speedy typing, but she finally felt she was getting somewhere. Inspiration had struck, it seemed, and she was finally tying all the plot holes together. No final ending was in sight yet, but she was at least getting the bulk of the problem out of the way and much more efficiently than she'd ever dared hope for.

She'd stopped typing by dinner, however, and eagerly counted down the hours and each passing minute until the clock struck twelve, and she'd be able to finally register at the forums which she'd been illegally visiting for several years now. Her heart beat faster each time she thought of the forums, and how she'd finally be able to share her story, longer by far than any other she'd stumbled across in her searches, with other people. Even in tiny print, the story was now over a hundred and ten pages long and with over sixty-thousand words it was almost the size of a small paperback novel.

Eight o' clock came and went...nine o' clock...She opened up her word document again, and began typing. She managed to type out another page as ten o'clock came and went. By eleven, she'd finished that particular chapter, and by twelve o' clock, she'd gotten in another two and a half pages. As soon as the little numbers in the bottom right of her computer screen changed from "11:59" to "12:00", she opened up her web browser and navigated her way to the sites she'd browsed for so long. She'd even set up a new email address just for this reason. One by one, she registered at her favorite AB/DL sites, waited for the confirmation e-mail of each, and activated the accounts. On one or two of the forums, she even bothered to post an introduction, though she knew all too well that she would receive numerous private messages from people that had seen her listed with the information, "Female – Adult Baby – Single." She had been tempted to leave most of that information blank, and on some of the sites she registered at, she had, but she had to admit it to herself – she liked the attention.

By three in the morning, she'd already racked up a dozen or so posts on each forum she'd registered at, including one story-oriented site, at which she'd asked people what they'd thought about the premise of her story, which was now so fundamentally different from the one she'd started writing so many months ago. All of the people that had replied to her inquiry sounded pleased at the idea of such a story, and requested that she post it in full as soon as she could. She had replied, saying she'd post the story as soon as it was done, but cautioned them that such a long story had been months in the making and still seemed a long way from completion. When Berkley finally went to bed that night shortly before four, she sighed contentedly, as if she'd just won an award.

Chapter 3: Berkley's Birthday (part 2)

Berkley awoke several hours later quite unexpectedly, and very grudgingly. Her mom and sister had come into the room blowing party favors and singing "Happy Birthday" at the top of their lungs. Evidently they thought that since she was still, "the baby" of the family, a title she'd held even before being diapered, she had to have the party brought to her on their schedule. Her anger with them diminished when she saw a large pile of presents sitting on her dresser and the floor around it. She knew they'd most likely be baby-ish, but she didn't care – she'd never gotten this many presents.

Before she was allowed to open them, however, her mom lit the candles of a small, rectangular cake, which had hopefully been decorated at home, as it said, "Happy Eighteenth, Berkley!" and was decorated with an icing diaper, complete with yellow icing in the crotch, which was evidently supposed to look like pee. Berkley blew out the candles, made a wish that she never had to give up her diapers, and took a slice of the cake for herself. Just to be funny, it seemed, her mom refused to give her a fork, saying, "Babies don't use forks, honey. Babies are messy and eat with their hands. Without thinking, Berkley picked up a big glob of cake and stuffed it messily into her mouth, covering a good part of her face with icing. The three women laughed, and a minute later Beth was wiping the icing off with a damp napkin.

At last, Berkley was allowed to open her presents. She wasn't the least bit surprised that the first few packages her mother handed her were custom diapers, which said things like, "Big Girl" and "Mommy's Sweetheart" across the padded posterior. The next few presents she unwrapped were some toys, and then a new set of delicately decorated rattles. These were followed by a new set of bright pink pajamas with tiny black skulls all over them. Berkley's style had sometimes bordered on ‘punk', so these were appreciated. She then opened some more lumpy packages, which proved to be more jumpers – constant wear and tear over the months had worn out some of her old jumpers. She also got a new hair brush, some larger pacifiers, and a small collection of decorative hair-ties.

It wasn't a bad haul, Berkley supposed, as far as baby-themed birthdays could go. She'd have liked some more adult-oriented gifts, perhaps a game or two for her computer or something, but she was happy for what all she did receive, as she was sure she'd get a reasonable amount of use out of all her gifts before too long. She was especially looking forward to the new pacifiers, as most of her old ones had gotten chewed up or gone missing.

Berkley wasted no time in opening the package of adult-sized pacifiers and popping one of them into her mouth. She didn't care that her older sister was looking at her with a mixture of pity and shame, for at that moment, she was happy with who and what she was. She had her pacifier, her oh-so-comfortable onesie, and her diapers. It was her birthday and she was going to enjoy it exactly how she wanted to.

Lunch time came and went, with Berkley enjoying another small slice of cake along with it. By two o' clock she'd messed, but Beth changed her right away, while Bailey watched TV. After her change, she'd gone back upstairs, where she got on her computer. Sure enough, when she went to the forums where she'd introduced herself, she had no fewer than five private messages on each forum, asking more about her. One person was evidently so dead-set on believing that there were no REAL women who were into the AB/DL thing, that he outright accused Berkley of being a man. She felt it would be best not to reply to these people – her profile on each forum said all she felt comfortable saying about herself. It mentioned she was eighteen and living in the United States, that she was female, that she was single(and not looking), that she was an AB, and that it wasn't sexual for her. Despite all this information, she got a few replies that were nothing but hook-up requests from men who lived hundreds of miles away that were twice her age.

She browsed the forums, reading responses to her posts and replying back to them in turn, and even welcomed a couple of new members that had joined along with her. She read a broader spectrum of threads than she'd ever dared read before, from life issues such as people with some absurd desire to come out as an AB/DL to their loved ones, to diaper-related incidents on TV or in the news. She read some more stories, found some more sites and joined up at a few of those as well. Soon, it seemed, she'd be a member of virtually every AB/DL site on the internet.

By five o' clock, she'd exhausted most of her favorite sites, some of which seemed to be having a slow day, and closed her browser. She then re-opened her word document, gazed half-bored at the last sentence she'd typed, and thought hard about what she could do to tidy up the story and finally end it. Throughout the course of the story, she'd jotted down and later deleted several plot devices which she thought she might use for more stories, provided her current one got predominantly positive reviews.

Inspiration didn't really seem to be with her tonight, when her mind kept wanting to go back and browse the forums she could now fully enjoy. She tried desperately to draw from her own experiences, her own past, her own ideas, but nothing would come. When nothing would come, she tried to think back to her favorite stories, what made them so very enjoyable to read, and though she could pinpoint exactly what she liked in a story: the use of diapers, obviously; a little romance here and there; not too many wettings and messings, but it was nice to have some occasionally; a clear plot; an occasional antagonist, though never a constant one. Constant antagonists were entirely overdone. She had all of these things in her story already and thought adding a bit more might make her readers unhappy. She tried not to include too much of any one thing in her story, but when the story was nearly a hundred and twenty pages long, it was difficult not to repeat things occasionally.

She popped the pacifier back in her mouth, tossed her head back and closed her eyes. She suckled gently at the rubber nipple as she thought. She opened her eyes just long enough to look over at the clock, saw that it was a quarter past five, and sighed. She thought briefly of Oliver and wished she could have him, like Bailey had Eric. She knew what those two did when they went to ‘hang out' or ‘watch a movie' over at his house. She knew it, and she was jealous of it. Eric was an anomaly though – he seemed perfectly happy to be dating a girl in diapers, even if that girl herself was not happy to be in them. Berkley thought Oliver wouldn't mind her diapers too much, but doubted he'd ever want to be more than friends because of them.

With jealous thoughts running through her mind, Berkley suddenly found that she couldn't stand to stay cooped up in her house anymore. She got to her feet, changed into one of her new jumpers, never minding that these still had a patch that read, "Remember: There's Never a Bad Time for a Change," stitched onto the right leg. When she'd finished changing, she clipped her pacifier onto a lanyard and hung it around her neck, only stuffing it down the front of her jumper when she remembered how silly she'd look otherwise.

When she was fully dressed, she waddled her way downstairs, waved to her mom and stepped out the door. The sun was now fairly low in the sky, but not quite low enough that a simple walk around the block, maybe a quick visit to the stores she used to visit on the way home from school, might put her at risk of getting home after dark. She intended to be home before dinner, after all, which would be at around eight or so, since her mom had been pushing it back a little over the past couple of weeks, so Berkley could get her usual dinner-time mess changed before dinner, so she wouldn't have to sit through her meal in a messy diaper. This was more for her mom's benefit than for hers, she realized, as she herself had never complained about sitting in a messy diaper aloud to her mom.

She made her way up the street, passed by "The Sincerity Shoppe" and near the end of the street, she turned into a slightly larger, though still family-owned store, called "Kim and Kenny's Used Books," where she used to stop by on the way home from school, though admittedly that was back in middle-school, rather than high school. Once upon a time, she'd come in here with Bailey, back when the store's co-owner, Kenny, had still been working here before retiring a few years back. That was way back when Bailey's accidents had first started, and one of them had taken place back in the Mystery and Drama section of this store. Berkley hadn't been back ever since, and missed the place dearly.

Now, as she stepped foot in the store for the first time in years, she saw just how much had changed. The store was now much better lit, had newer bookshelves, many more books, and even a few cases which held signed copies by very famous authors. The store now had quiet music playing over the sound system, and she smiled when she recognized the song as one of Bailey's favorites.

Other than the music, playing so softly that she needed to listen intently just to make out the words, the store was completely silent, aside from the cashier girl occasionally asking, "Would you like a bag for that?" Berkley could even hear the distinct crinkle of her diaper as she walked, a sound which she could usually only ever hear in the quiet of her room. She made an effort to walk in a way that didn't make her crinkle so much, then realized how awkward that must look, and resolved to hope that the sound wouldn't be noticed by anyone else.

She shuffled her way around the store, avoiding other customers as best as she could, but it seemed the store had grown popular in the last few years, though the store itself hadn't gotten any bigger. The aisles were still narrow and once or twice she was sure her diaper had brushed against somebody's hand as she attempted to scoot past them. She was glad she hadn't wet herself yet however; as she wasn't sure she'd be able to move around other customers at all with a swollen diaper.

The aisles nearer to the back of the store were wide enough that two people could stand back to back, and still have enough room to browse the shelve. She spotted a section on parenting in the non-fiction section, and began to browse. There wasn't much to interest her – a few books about toilet training, a few about tips on getting your newborn to sleep, etc, but nothing too important. Most of all, she was just trying to clear her head. Her mind still blazed with jealous thoughts of Bailey and Eric and the relationship they had that she so desired from Oliver.

Berkley flipped mindlessly through the pages of several books over the course of the next hour, before she realized she needed to both pee and poop. This would not normally have caused her great distress, but she was among a crowd of strangers, none of which could possibly know she was wearing a diaper. She thought she recognized the cashier girl from school, but she wasn't in any of her classes, so she would hopefully not recognize her as she left the store.

Luck prevailed, and the cashier was busy checking out another customer when Berkley finally decided she'd better leave. Despite needing to relieve herself so badly, Berkley still desired to walk. She'd hardly had a chance to make real extended use of her diapers, as she was usually changed immediately after she'd used her diapers, even if she'd merely peed. She felt mischievous, but at the same time a wave of shame coursed over here, "What if," she thought, "somebody stops me or realizes what I've done?" The thought was discomforting, and she wasn't sure she should go through with it. She knew she'd have to go soon – the pressure in her bladder was overwhelming and the pressure in her bowels was nearly as bad.

Berkley shifted uncomfortably as she glanced down the road to where the corner of her house was just visible several blocks away. She then looked up the road in the opposite direction, towards the rest of town. She knew she'd probably wet and mess before she even made it back home, even if she walked straight home. Fully acknowledging this, she began walking away, up the road.

When she'd gone about a block further, her bladder throbbed once more then released without consent from Berkley, who was quite surprised with the sudden loss of control – the urge to pee had been something she'd once been quite capable of controlling for very long lengths of time, but had diminished greatly over the last few months. It had been less than half an hour since she'd even realized she had to pee, and in the last ten minutes, that need had become so overwhelming that she'd wet herself quite unintentionally.

She waddled slightly as she walked another few blocks, stopping occasionally to seize control of her bowels, which seemed as eager to release as her bladder had. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd consciously willed herself NOT to mess. She vaguely remembered that she'd begun messing almost subconsciously just a couple of months ago, shortly after it became an expected thing of her in school. Recently, she'd only been vaguely aware that she had to poop in the first place before she found herself pushing – at this rate, she might really end up needing her diapers, instead of just enjoying them.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to hold it for too much longer, Berkley slunk off somewhere to the side of the road, hiding herself from anyone who might see her by slipping in between two large shrubs by the side of a store. She glanced around, trying to make perfectly sure she wasn't being observed on a security camera or something, and began pushing.

The mess which she pushed out now was not quite the hard pebbles she sometimes expelled when she was somewhat constipated, but it was far from soft. She felt her body attempting to expel it, and she even pushed as hard as she could, but the log inside her seemed reluctant to leave her, despite the discomfort it had been giving her since she left the bookstore. She squatted, grunting and sighing all the time, so that anyone who might stumble across her little hidden spot could hardly mistake what she was doing. Little by little, the log inched out of her, nestling itself into the soft, damp padding. After what seemed like ten minutes, but could hardly have been two, the log broke off. Berkley felt it drop heavily into the seat of her diaper – felt the warm weight pressing against her backside, and knew she wasn't done yet.

After the nearly liquid mess she'd experienced the day before, she was astonished at the magnitude of clay-like mess she was now producing. She was red in the face now, not from embarrassment, but from pushing so hard. She felt several spurts of left-over urine issue from her as she pushed. Another few minutes passed before the second log finally cleared itself out of her, piling itself on top of the first log. Berkley was surprised somewhat when she realized she still had more to go, but sighed with relief at the ease with which this log departed.

The third log that departed required almost no effort on Berkley's part – it just slipped on out on the tail of the second, almost as if Berkley's sphincter hadn't even begun to close. Berkley stood and felt the heaviness of her diaper shift and sag. She placed a hand delicately on the rear of her jumper and blushed furiously when she realized her diaper was so full and so swollen that it was actually straining the seams on the fabric. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she could even feel the lumps that were her mess through the jumper and the diaper.

Berkley decided at this point that she would be better off abandoning what she'd intended to be a long, enjoyable walk in a full diaper. It would have to wait for another day, when her load wasn't so massive. On her way home she thought she saw more than a couple of passersby stop and stare, and thought she heard a couple of people whispering.

When she got home, her mom saw the state she was in, and immediately changed her. Like before, when her mom had complained about the smell of her liquid mess, her mom simply couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Wow, Berkley," She began, "I think you've somehow managed to poop more than you've eaten in days! There's got to be at least five pounds of poop in your diaper. How in the WORLD did you manage that?" she chuckled lightly, but Berkley couldn't understand what was so funny about the situation. She used to have unusually large poops all the time as a kid – by the time she was twelve, they'd had to install a toilet with the largest size drain hole they could find, because Berkley kept clogging it. She'd been careful ever since not to eat too much, but she'd indulged over the last few days, since her birthday was around the corner. When Beth had finished changing Berkley's diaper, she playfully scolded her about making messes that big, and allowed Berkley to dismount from the changing station.

Berkley was glad to be back in a clean diaper – she liked them wet and she was content to be in a messy one, but for right now, she was content to be clean and dry. She then went back upstairs to work a little more on her story before supper, after which she would try to do a bit more before going to bed for school in the morning.

Part 12: Budding Romance

Chapter 1: The Interests of Eric

It was mid-March now, and Bailey was lying in Eric's bed. They had just finished making love again, and were both still naked. As always, Bailey had wet the bed when she'd climaxed, but it seemed so unimportant now. In fact, they lay even now in a large oval patch of Bailey's pee. Bailey didn't really care – it was her pee, after all, and she was usually sitting in a wet diaper anyways. Eric didn't seem to mind it either, and only ever complained when it started to get cold.

The two of them simply lay there, with one of Eric's hands gently stroking Bailey's face and hair, the other arm, curled under her waist, his hand on her back. Every now and then, Eric would plant a kiss on her forehead, and she'd turn her green eyes up to him, and kiss him on the tip of his nose. They both smiled, and Bailey positively grinned. Surely, this must be what heaven is like.

Several minutes later, they both figured it'd be best if they changed the sheets again – Eric was always very good about changing the sheets after every time they had sex, though the smell of urine had by this point sunk into his mattress, and he was forced to spray it down with room freshener occasionally.

They both got up, reluctant to even let go of one another, and got dressed. Bailey pulled a spare diaper out of the bag she carried with her now that she was allowed to change herself again. She let Eric diaper her – something she'd never really thought he'd want to do, until he'd offered one day. His first few tries were a disaster – being an only child of only children, he'd never had any young siblings or cousins to care for while growing up and thus had absolutely no idea how to change a diaper. Bailey had showed him the proper way to do it, and he'd caught on quite fast.

By now, Eric was a master of the art of diaper changing, and seemed more than willing to change her. Once or twice he'd even stopped her from changing her own diaper simply because it was something he said he wanted to do for her. Bailey had to admit, she actually thought she preferred Eric's diaper changes to her mother's. Eric was very gentle, almost as if he were afraid of breaking her. He always applied a bit more baby powder than her mother had, but that was alright by her, so long as he didn't over-do it.

Eric diapered her as lovingly as he always did, kissed her on the cheek and helped her up. Bailey grabbed a paper towel from the night stand beside the bed, smiled mischievously and wrapped it around the condom, still stretched over Eric's semi-limp penis. Gently, she tugged at it, and at last it slid off. She crumpled it up and threw it away, while Eric got himself dressed. He'd just gotten his pants on when Bailey returned, and grabbed her own pants. Once the two of them had gotten completely dressed again, Eric took her by the hand.

He lead her over to the bed, and Bailey was somewhat alarmed to see that he looked nervous.

"What's wrong, Love?" She asked, and smiled when he blushed slightly.

"Well, I'm sure you must have noticed that..." He began, but trailed off. He seemed to be struggling with something he both did and did not want to say.

"Go ahead, whatever it is, I won't laugh," she said, quite seriously. She turned his face towards hers, and stared unblinkingly into his dark eyes.

"I love you, and you love me. I didn't think I'd ever find somebody who wouldn't be disgusted at the mere thought of a girl who constantly wets her pants."

Eric smiled slightly at that last remark, took a deep breath, and said in a rush, "I-don't-mind-it-because-I-really-like-it." He blushed furiously all of a sudden, and looked at Bailey as if willing her not to get freaked out by what he'd just said.

Eric's fears were groundless, however, as Bailey replied, "Oh, is that all? I already knew that, I've known it for weeks and weeks now. Heck, any time you catch sight of my diaper, you get hard as a rock, and you never pass up an opportunity to change me. It's really not a big deal, Lover Boy, I made up my mind a long time ago, before we first had sex that if it made you happy, I would be okay with it."

Eric smiled wider than Bailey had ever seen him smile before. His face was half ecstatic and half bewildered.

"I've worried for so long that you might find out about f-fetish, that I've been working up the courage to tell you about it for weeks now. I knew I'd dropped some pretty strong hints when we'd first gotten to know each other and started hanging out a bit. All the questions I'd asked had to be a dead-giveaway..."

"Yeah, they pretty much were. It was back then that I first began to suspect that you had a thing for girls in diapers." Bailey said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Not girls, Love. Just you, only you..." He said, stroking her hair again and kissing her gently.

"I saw you in that restaurant; back when I first introduced myself to you. I didn't know then that you wore diapers, but when I found out, I couldn't believe what I was feeling. It didn't disgust me, it aroused me...I'd never thought about anyone wearing diapers before except babies and old people. The thought of you wearing one was just!" He barked.

"Ah," said Bailey, "but I do have one question, though I think I might know the answer already. Do you like it when I use my diapers or do you just like the thought of me wearing one?"

Eric hesitated, "Both, actually...I don't know why, I just do. I've tried to ask myself why seeing a young woman in diapers, wetting and messing herself would be attractive to me, and I just can't answer it." Eric suddenly blushed furiously, hoping Bailey hadn't been paying too close of attention to what he'd just said.

No dice, however, as Bailey wasted no time jumping on what he'd just said, "Wetting and messing? You've never seen me mess myself, and I think the subject was only ever brought up once."

"Yeah well, I have...thought about it, I suppose. I mean, I know you don't do it often, probably whenever it can be avoided, but I've wondered what that'd be like. I've seen you wet yourself multiple times; whenever we have sex, and sometimes when we are just lounging around, watching a movie, you almost always have a wet diaper before too long. I've never seen you mess though," Eric said, turning if possible, even redder.

"Well," Bailey said, going a little pink in the face herself, "did see me mess?" The thought was alarming her slightly. Something about messing was a lot more embarrassing to her than wetting. Perhaps because it made for a harder clean up or perhaps simply because she could stop herself from messing, but not from wetting, so the former was akin to a bigger, much more personal defeat.

"I-" Eric began, hesitating for a moment before going on, evidently praying that he wasn't being lured into a trap, "I think I'd like that," He admitted.

Silence fell between the two as Bailey wondered what would happen next. She loved Eric very much and was glad he'd finally confided his desires to her. She got no sexual gratification from messing herself, but knew Eric would be positively ecstatic. It'd be like Christmas coming early for him, if his embarrassment at admitting his desires was any indication of how bad his desire for the act was.

Bailey made up her mind to fulfill Eric's desire, knowing full well that her diaper was very fresh, having just been taped on her by Eric himself not ten minutes prior. She'd needed to poop for some time now, even before she'd come they'd had sex. She'd figured she'd simply use Eric's bathroom when the urge got too bad, and by this point, the urge was getting rather desperate.

She smiled meekly at him, "I'll do it for, if you'd like. I really have to go and I don't think I can hold it much longer anyways."

Eric smiled, "Really? Love, you have no idea how big of a turn-on that is for me, just hearing you say that."

"Well, Lover Boy, if you think that's a turn-on, just you wait." Bailey said, trying her best to sound sexy. She got to her feet, unbuttoned her jeans and dropped them around her ankles, exposing the white plastic of her diaper. She kicked her jeans into Eric's lap and turned around so that he'd get a good view as she filled her diaper. She had gotten quite used to messing during her six months in diapers, but it had now been three months since she'd been forced to do so. She'd messed a few times on purpose since then, when she'd been too lazy to go to the bathroom, though this had always been on days when she either wouldn't be seeing Eric at all, or would be seeing him much later. In addition, she'd messed herself a handful of times on accident, having become so accustomed to just letting fly whenever that she hadn't stopped to think that she didn't need to do that anymore.

She spread her legs apart slightly, and rubbed distractedly at her stomach. She felt the mess inside her churning and hoped it wouldn't be a particularly messy one. She didn't like messing, but even less did she like semi-solid or even liquid messes. When she did mess, she preferred the load to be soft, yet firm at the same time, about the consistency of fresh clay. She let out a little fart, and blushed. She had never farted audibly in Eric's presence before, but the embarrassment was encompassed by what happened next. She pushed ever so slightly, and all at once felt the entire contents of her stomach squeezing out of her, nestling cozily into her diaper. She heard the crackle of the poop and the rustle of the plastic of her diaper as it expanded to make room for the smelly contents it had just received. Bailey felt her face burning as the smell hit her and the full realization of what she'd just done hit her.

She turned around to face Eric, who had a giddy look on his face, like he'd just witnessed a miracle in action. She relaxed a bit when it became evident that Eric had thoroughly enjoyed what she'd just done. Eric then got to his feet and hugged her tightly, kissing her neck passionately.

Bailey felt the hardness of him pressing against her again, and knew that he was somehow ready for another round of sex, despite having just finished their last go not twenty minutes prior. She wanted him badly again as well, but wasn't sure how to go about it. Surely, a diaper change now would kill the mood for both of them. She supposed they didn't have to have real sex, they could just do a bit of dry humping, like they used to. She laid back on his bare bed, and opened her legs to him, despite the unpleasant warmth pressing into her backside.

Eric wasted no time before stripping off his own pants and underwear again. Bailey even had to stop him from grabbing a condom, as he was under the impression they were going to have sex again. She told him they might do that later on, if she got a bit more comfortable with messing for him, but for now they'd just fool around a bit.

Eric climbed on top of her without hesitation, thrusting into the spot that always gave her so much pleasure. Bailey's eyes rolled back again as her toes splayed and curled once more and the world seemed to fill with light. She didn't think of the mess in her diaper and how badly she'd need a change after this or how difficult the clean-up would be. She thought only of him and of herself and of the unbound bliss that passed between them as they both reached their climax. Eric slumped over beside her, grinning and kissing her ears and neck.

"Thank you," he said, reaching for the roll of paper towels again, so he could clean off the pearlescent fluid he's left on the crotch of her diaper.

"That was amazing, that's the fastest either of us has know..." she said, quite out of breath. She couldn't believe how amazing that had felt, even with a mess in the seat of her diaper – perhaps BECAUSE of the mess in the seat of her diaper.

Several minutes later, when the smell of the load on Bailey's diaper was getting a little nauseating, Eric offered to change her. At first, Bailey was tempted to decline, but then thought better of it. Eric must really love her if he's offering to change her messy diaper, knowing full well that it will be incredibly bad, and she'd be a fool to turn him down. She knew that if they stayed together, he'd come to be her primary diaper changer, and for some reason that was alright with her.

She had to walk him through it, explaining how to change her without getting poop everywhere. She had a portable changing pad in her bag for her usual changes, but didn't usually use, since she was so used to changing herself. She had him lay it out beneath her before untaping the diaper. When Eric opened it, his face went completely blank, and he turned away, looking sick. Bailey almost called the whole thing off right there, insisting he didn't have to do it and that she could change herself if it was too much. Eric waved away her protests and lifted her legs up like she'd showed him. With his spare hand, he grabbed a few baby wipes and cleaned off the bulk of the mess, though he still looked very pale. Then without warning, Bailey felt him slide a baby wipe through her cleft, right over that little node that he always knew how to arouse just right. He wiped her down so efficiently and so completely, that when he was done, he spanked her lightly on one dazzlingly clean butt-cheek, and pronounced her, "Clean as a whistle."

A minute later, she was in a clean, heavily-powdered diaper, and leaning her red face against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, told her he loved her, and thanked her once again for allowing him to indulge himself in her situation.

"Anything for you, my Love," she said as she kissed him and wrapped herself in his arms.

Eric looked over at the clock, saw that it was getting late and suggested that he take her home now. His parents would be home before too long and he needed to crack a window and dispose of the messy diaper and used wipes. Not to mention he still needed to wash his sheets.

Bailey agreed and the two of them left a few minutes later, when they'd both dressed themselves, opened his windows and started the washer. Eric drove her home and kissed her good-bye and told her he'd see her the next day, to which she happily agreed.

Bailey waved good-bye as Eric drove off, and went inside only after his car had disappeared around the street corner. She said nothing as she passed her mother, who was in the middle of preparing supper in the kitchen, or as she passed Berkley, whom she suspected to share either the same fetish as Eric, or something very similar.

Chapter 2: Bailey's Suspicions

A couple of weeks passed, during which Bailey and Eric had hardly had time to hang out together, due to his rigorous work schedule, which was now so much more hectic than it had been when they'd first met. Much to the surprise of Beth and Berkley, Bailey had begun messing her diapers again. Though they didn't know it, she'd begun doing it to please Eric – All throughout the time she'd been punished, she'd disliked messing herself, aside from towards the end of the punishment where she'd come to regard it as just another part of her daily routine. Now that she wasn't being coerced into messing herself, she felt much less shameful about doing it – in fact, when she'd hang out with Eric, she rather enjoyed having him change her.

Bailey acknowledged that when she messed at home now, she couldn't expect to have her mom change her, and that she'd have to take care of the cleanup by herself. This didn't bother her as much as one would think, though she did try to make it to the bathroom whenever she was having an upset stomach, which tended to happen for a few days in a row each month. Her messes during that period of time were usually very gassy and almost completely liquid – not at all pleasant in Bailey's mind. She thought she could handle the solid messes pretty well, and maybe even the semi-solid ones without too much complaining, but the liquid ones were out of the question.

Bailey woke up one weekday morning in mid-March feeling particularly refreshed. She knew that if she were to see Eric today, it'd be much later in the afternoon, probably around five o'clock or so, depending on how late his job kept him. She felt the vague need to poop, but held it off for the time being. She got out of bed and saw that Berkley's door was shut. This struck her as odd, since Berkley only ever closed her door when she was inside her room, and she should be in school at the moment.

Bailey walked down the hall to her sister's door and heard a low humming coming from inside. It sounded like it may be Berkley's computer, but she couldn't be sure. She knocked lightly on Berkley's door – no answer. Slightly uneasy, she opened the door.

The room was empty – Evidently Berkley was gone after all. Still her computer was on, and Bailey suddenly felt a strong urge to see what her sister might be up to. She moved the wireless mouse a fraction of an inch and the screensaver disappeared. Everything looked normal at first, until her eyes fell on the names of the minimized tabs at the bottom of the screen: One clearly had the words, "Diaper Lover Community" In the title. This virtually confirmed in Bailey's mind everything she'd come to suspect about her little sister, and yet it still seemed so strange – How had Berkley come to enjoy diapers in the first place, when she'd been out of them for years and years?

Bailey slicked her gaze to another tab and saw that it said "Adult Baby Support Community." This intrigued her slightly, as the concept of an adult being a baby seemed quite unusual. Sure, she and Berkley had both been treated like babies to a degree for some time, though this had mostly focused on their requirement to wear diapers all the time, not to mention using them. Their beds had been converted into oversized cribs, and their clothes had been somewhat baby-ish, she supposed, but that was about it. They'd both been given pacifiers and bottled to drink from, but they weren't exactly required to do either.

Curious to see what this, "Adult Baby Support Community" was all about, she maximized the tab. What she saw was a bit surprising, but nothing too absurd. It was the main page of a website, and had a picture of a man and woman, both dressed in infantile clothes, sucking on pacifiers. This seemed to be very much what their mom had intended for their punishment. Berkley, however, seemed to be positively thrilled with the idea. Judging by the link at the top of the page that read, "Sign Out?," Berkley had even created an account at this site.

Bailey felt a little ashamed of herself for having looked at her sister's computer and learned this most intimate detail about her. She couldn't exactly be mad at Berkley – if her sister liked diapers, then she wasn't so different from Eric. She didn't think Eric cared much for seeing her in baby clothes, or seeing her sucking on a pacifier, but the two seemed very similar in Bailey's mind.

Wanting to stop, wanting to leave with the knowledge she'd already gained about her sister and spare herself any more guilt, she minimized the tab, but saw one more open. This one was a word document, titled, "The Strange Year." That didn't sound too weird – she knew Berkley liked to write short stories in her spare time – she'd written a few page and a half to five page stories over the years, ever since she'd gotten her own computer. Usually, when they were finished, she'd come to Bailey and have her read them to see if they were any good – they always were.

When Bailey clicked the tab to maximize it, however, her eyes darted first to the page count. Her jaw dropped as she read, "Page 126 of 126." Bailey looked at the font and saw that it was tiny – size 10, maybe smaller. If the entire document was written in such minute letters, it must be a long, long story indeed. She scrolled all the way to the top and began reading.

About three pages in, Bailey got a sneaking suspicion that this was more than just any old story – it was a story about diapers. Bailey read on, page after page, until she had gone over twenty-five pages in, at which point she began to recognize things that had actually happened, altered to fit into the story. She realized the main character, a girl named Berlin, must be based on Berkley herself. She had an older sister, named Arianna, who was incontinent, though the age difference was greater, at around five years. Their mother had also been rendered incontinent after childbirth, but this time it had been the older sibling that had done the damage, not the younger. There were a number of differences between the characters of the story and the people they seemed to be based off of. Their physical descriptions didn't quite match up and Berkley's counterpart, Berlin, was much more prone to outbursts than Berkley really was, often bursting into tears any time she used her diaper. The mother in this story was also much less likeable than their own mother. She had punished Berlin for a series of accidents she'd had that had occurred due to circumstances outside of her control, as opposed to getting caught wearing a diaper, as had happened to Berkley.

Bailey looked over at the clock, saw that she'd spent nearly forty-five minutes reading, and stood up. She was very aware that her diaper was soaked, but paid no mind to that – her diaper could soak up quite a bit, and she knew it. What bothered her was that she needed to poop, but she wanted to see where Berkley's story was leading. She pushed the thought out of mind – if she intended to finish reading this very long story before Berkley got home from school in a couple of hours, she'd need to put her body's needs aside for the time being. A year ago, she knew she'd be able to hold it in for a couple of hours with no difficulty, but her prolonged used of diapers as her only means of relieving herself had greatly diminished her control, so she could hold it comfortably for only an hour or so, and uncomfortably for another half an hour. She was trying to build up her control again, and figured this would be an opportune moment to do so.

Bailey continued to read chapter after chapter of Berkley's story, becoming increasingly aware with each passing minute that her bowels were in uproar. Her stomach wasn't upset, so she doubted she'd have diarrhea, but knew that when she did poop, there would be a lot of it. She kept pushing the need away, however, as her mind was hell-bent on finishing this story. It was, after all, very well written, and almost biographical in the way it was written. The story was really about Berkley, or in this case, Berlin, but there were various chapters devoted entirely to Arianna, and as the story went on, the similarities became impossible to ignore. It was almost as if Berkley had somehow gotten into her head and copied her thoughts and feelings out in the word document. When she got to the chapter about her new boyfriend, a young man named Shawn, the similarities diverged slightly, due to Berkley having no real idea what the two of them did, but Berkley had at least pinpointed the uncomfortable revelation between Arianna and Shawn when she revealed she wore diapers.

An hour later, she could no longer ignore the uncomfortable feeling in her bowels and had to make a split-second decision – to mess or to go to the bathroom. If she waited any longer, the decision would be made for her. She didn't want to leave the story without finishing it – she was only thirty pages from the end, and was sure she'd be able to finish reading it before Berkley got home if she sacrificed her opportunity to go to the bathroom. If she took time to go to the bathroom, she might never get a chance to see how the story turns out.

Squirming and sweating, she opted for the only choice that seemed rational at the time – she got up and squatted. Seconds later, at the slightest push, she felt the all-too-familiar sensation of warm, solid waste inching its way out of her body, coiling into a single, monstrous pile in the seat of her diaper, and pressing against her skin. It wasn't an uncomfortable sensation to her anymore, as it once had been. Without a second thought about her situation, she sat back down at the computer. She shuddered at the feeling of the mess being flattened as the bulk of the mess was displaced. She had never enjoyed sitting in a messy diaper, though she'd done so on a couple of occasions for Eric, who sometimes, though not often, requested that she stay in a messy diaper for longer than she normally would.

Pushing thoughts of how bad the clean-up would be later out of her head, she went back to reading. She finished the story faster than she'd thought – fast enough that she had time to think with a little bitterness that she would have had plenty of time to go to the bathroom, come back, and finish reading and wouldn't be stuck sitting here in a messy diaper. She looked at the clock and saw that it was only ten minutes until three, and Berkley would be home in half an hour. She minimized the story and got up again, stretching her legs and shifting her weight to try to make the diaper sticking to her behind a little more comfortable. She realized with a touch of unease that the room must now smell terribly of her poop and she scampered out the door, hoping the smell would dissipate before Berkley got home.

She went back to her room and changed her diaper, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the smell – it had been a solid mess, but it had smelled much worse than usual, and that was saying something. It took her several minutes to get cleaned up and re-diapered, and when she was finished, she sighed with relief. She always felt much better after changing out of a messy diaper.

Twenty minutes later, as Bailey waited in the living room, Berkley arrived and Bailey crossed her fingers, hoping the smell had dissipated enough that Berkley wouldn't be able to smell it. As Berkley passed by her, however, Bailey noticed that Berkley was waddling, and that there was a distinct smell of poop lingering around her. Berkley seemed to have a messy diaper as well, which was all well and good to her, because it might help Berkley to mistake any lingering odor for her own.

That seemed to do the trick, as Bailey followed Berkley up the stairs, and watched as Berkley paused for half a moment in the doorway of her room, walked inside and dropped off her backpack. Berkley turned her head toward the computer for a second, then exited her room to go downstairs, where she would be changed into a clean diaper.

Bailey sighed with relief as Berkley passed by her on the way down the stairs without a word. She then finished her trek up the steps and took refuge in her own room, shut the door and turned on her own computer. It wasn't as new as Berkley's, who had spent all the money she'd earned from a summer of baby-sitting on a new computer, but it still ran well enough. She brought up her search engine and typed in, "Adult Baby Support Community" and recognized the first link as the one she wanted, and without any clear idea as to why, she created an account there.

Part 13: Winding Down for Berkley Bruhn

Chapter 1: Anxious Times for Berkley

It was now the middle of April, and Berkley was finishing up another page of her story, her eyes burning from having spent the majority of the day on the computer, typing away with extreme vigor. She'd been churning out page after page after page with ease all day after inspiration had struck her in the form of Ollie. After weeks of hoping he'd do so, Oliver, now known as Ollie in Berkley's mind, had asked her out. Over the course of the next few days, they'd spent much of their time together, and Berkley's mind had cleared of all distractions each night after they parted ways, allowing ideas to come flooding in.

Berkley yawned sleepily as she saved her word document and closed out of the window. She was suddenly aware that her diaper was wet – not quite soaked, but more than a little damp. This had been happening more and more frequently – evidently after nearly ten months of wearing diapers all day, every day with no access to the toilet, her bladder control was finally bordering nil. She didn't think of herself as incontinent, but rather as somebody who'd simply lost a major portion of their potty training. Based on many of the stories she'd read, she'd imagined that 24/7 diaper wear would have rendered her incontinent much sooner. She didn't know if she was just extra resilient to the decay of her muscle control, or if the stories were just highly inaccurate, but what she did know was that she often found herself in a wet diaper without ever having realized she needed to pee.

A similar, though far less severe deterioration had begun with her bowels. She always knew when she needed to poop, but the thought process that had once allowed her to get to the bathroom on time before she ruined her underwear seemed to have disappeared. Now, except in certain circumstances, she never really thought, "I'll hold it in for a bit, until I'm by myself." Nowadays, she simply thought to herself, "Oh, I guess I need to poop," at which point she invariably began filling her diaper, even while in unsuspecting company. This much more infantile state of mind had caused her a bit of embarrassment a few times, when she filled her diaper in public places, such as at the local bookstore, or when eating out at her favorite restaurants with Ollie.

Ollie, of course, took her messings in stride. He did, after all, believe that she really was incontinent, a fact that had been reinforced by her mother's brief meeting with Ollie a few days prior, during which Berkley had accidentally begun to fill her diaper and her mom sniffed around for a moment, darted over to Berkley and checked her diaper in plain view of Ollie who stood by the doorway, looking resolutely nonplussed. Her mom had then put on a rather convincing display of how it was such a shame that Berkley's condition didn't seem to be getting any better. She assured Ollie that the doctor had told both her and Berkley that her incontinence would most likely be a temporary issue and would resolve itself in due course. She went on to say that Berkley had only been expected to be within diapers for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months at most, but that the doctor had evidently been wrong, and that Berkley's control hadn't improved in the slightest.

She didn't want to relive her mom's disastrous proclamation that she looked like she'd be in diapers for a long time to come – disastrous only to Ollie, whom she was sure would quickly lose interest in a girl who constantly pooped her pants like a toddler. She herself was quite content to remain in diapers for the rest of her life. Many of the people she'd read about online who had attempted to place themselves into a ‘diapered 24/7' situation had expressed disdain for the difficulty of the lifestyle. Berkley had no such qualms. Despite her former popularity, she had never been much of a people person. She never did like most of her classmates, even the ones that had been in the popular cliques like she had once been. They'd been too loud, too interfering, too petty and too...childish. The thought made her smirk – a girl in diapers looking down on others her age as ‘childish.' She put it all out of her mind – her ex-friends, her moms remarks and intentional embarrassment, all of it.

Sleepy, but determined to get changed out of her sagging, yellowed diaper before going to bed, lest she wake up with diaper rash again – she'd experienced her own fair share of it over the last ten months. She waddled downstairs, her diaper on display for all to see, and shuffled into the living room, where her mom was sitting, watching the late night news and crocheting what appeared to be a colorful dishcloth. She waddled over to the changing table, climbed up onto it, and within seconds heard her mom getting to her feet.

Berkley fought off the desire to sleep as she let her mom change her. She had just jerked awake for the third or fourth time as her mom taped her new diaper in place and began to speak.

"Two months to go, Berk. Just two more months and you can go back to wearing big girl panties," her mom said, her voice sounding more sad than taunting. To be accurate, her mom's voice contained no voice of taunting mockery – she seemed almost upset at the thought of Berkley going back to wearing ‘big girl panties.'

"I don't want to," Berkley said, her voice sounding definitely whiny, like a little kid being dragged to the dentist's office.

"No mom, I don't want to go! They're going to pull out my teeth!" she could almost hear her own voice echoing back to her from many years ago.

Her mom looked dumbfounded, "Don't want to? How can you not WANT to go back to wearing regular panties, Berk? Big girls like you aren't supposed to wear diapers!"

"You and Bailey wear them!" Berkley said, her voice somewhere between indignant and pitifully whiny, and high enough that it would soon be out of the range of human hearing. She was vaguely aware as she screeched these words that she was bordering on tears – was she really so bent on remaining and diapers that it was worth crying over? It seemed so.

"Your sister and I wear diapers because we HAVE TO, Berkley! I don't want to be in diapers any more than anyone else, but I have to be because if I weren't, I'd be peeing all over the floor, ruining all of my clothes and the furniture, and I'd be banned from pretty much every restaurant in town! Bailey wears them for those same reasons, but it seems like you just want to wear them so that you can indulge in some...sick...fantasy.

The tears broke, and Berkley could feel their heat streaking across her face as her eyes blazed with anger and humiliation.

"I do NOT want to keep wearing them to indulge in so sick fantasy! Berkley screamed, her voice far from the indignant tone it had so recently taken. It was powerful now and more than a little frightening. The fact that she was a small, skinny girl in a diaper was somehow irrelevant now, when she seemed angry enough that the room around her may begin to crumble from the waves of fury that issued from her. She had leapt to her feet now and was now stomping menacingly toward her mom.

"Clearly, mother dear, you don't have the slightest idea of what goes on in my head – I want to keep wearing diapers because I LIKE them. I like the feeling of a nice, soft diaper between my legs as I go about my day. I like the feeling of being able to just let go whenever and wherever I want. I like the feeling of freedom they give me, the security they provide, the joy and the contentment. There is no hidden agenda behind my wanting to wear them – I've wanted to wear them pretty much my entire life! I've hidden the desire to wear them from everyone for years and years, but you know what, mom? I'm done with that! I've told you now and I couldn't take that back even if I wanted to, so I'm not even going to try.

Beth stumbled back a few feet as Berkley advanced, pointing menacingly and glaring with such fury that she felt ashamed of herself for the first time in months. She diverted her eyes away from her daughter, taking in the words Berkley had just uttered with such finality. Her punishment had been a bust, it had seemed, and quite unnecessary to begin with. She'd put her daughters in diapers to punish them for making fun of how she'd accidentally pooped her diaper at the grocery store, when it seemed that neither of her daughters had probably never known about her accident to begin with. She felt tears welling in her own eyes, but hardened herself against them before they'd even begun to flow. She smiled sympathetically at Berkley, whose anger seemed to be abating, but whose face was still rigid with unexpressed anger.

"I'm sorry," she said, and the need to cry strengthened in her once more. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Berkley...I never knew, I thought you just wanted to wear them to be like those sickos on the news that hire personal nurses to change their diapers, while they pretend to be mentally handicapped."

"Mom! Why would you even think that! Those people are fucked up in the head – I just want to wear diapers like you and Bailey, and to use them as I see fit. I'm not trying to make anyone uncomfortable or to force them to do something with me sexually under false pretenses..." said Berkley, thinking with a pang of Ollie, who still thought she was incontinent, although she admitted to herself a moment later that she was virtually incontinent – it's hard to look at a grown person who constantly soils themselves on accident and not label them as incontinent, albeit voluntarily in this case.

"Berkley, how would you feel if I told you your punishment were over and that you can go back to using the bathroom if you want?" Beth asked, smiling at Berkley.

"I'd thank you, but ask if it would be alright if I still use my diapers..." Berkley replied, blushing vibrantly, all anger ebbing away.

"And I'd tell you that you may, and that the lock on the bathroom door will be gone when you wake up in the morning, just in case you change your mind." She said, turning Berkley toward the stairway leading to the floor on which Berkley and Bailey both slept. She patted Berkley affectionately on the shoulders and bid her good-night.

As Berkley closed the door to her room, she turned back to her computer, where she'd begun writing the last few chapters of her story. She looked down at her diaper, the first diaper she wore as a free adult, and her heart filled with emotion. Such confusion she'd never felt before, and yet it all seemed so right. She was free to dress how she wanted now – free to sleep in a bed – to carry around a change of diapers for herself – to spend more time with Ollie than she'd yet been allowed. She was also embarking on a new stage of her life, where she wasn't going to be babied as her mom had been babying her for the better part of a year, but would be an adult in diapers.

A bit light headed from the sudden turn from anger to bliss, she climbed into her crib, wondering how soon she'd be back to sleeping in her old bed. She placed her head comfortably against the reassuring bars, regret infesting her thoughts, knowing she'd need to give up her crib if she ever hoped to have Ollie come see her room. Her thoughts fell on him as sleep overtook her, and her thoughts subsided into hazy dreams, wherein she did things with Ollie which her waking mind had scarcely permitted her to think of.

When she got home from school the next day, Berkley helped her mother dismantle her crib and move her old box springs and mattress up both flights of stairs, from the basement all the way up to her room on the second story. When this had been done and she'd put new sheets on the bed, she lay down on it, relishing it's cushiness in comparison to the rather stiff cushioning of the crib, to which she'd become so accustomed.

She did her homework, quickly but accurately enough, and hurried out to spend some time with Ollie before it got too late. For the first time, she brought along a spare diaper with her, so that she could stay longer with him than she'd been able to so far. She didn't know what he would want to do – whether he'd want to stay in and play some video games or watch a movie, or if he'd want to take her out, as he sometimes did, to eat or go bowling. She worried whether she'd have a decent place to change herself, but decided that if worse came to worst, she'd change in the ladies room and put her used diaper in either the trash can or the sanitary boxes. She supposed if she only wet, she may even be able to make do with putting the used diaper back in her back, and disposing of it properly when she got home.

Ollie picked her up at about a quarter after five that evening, and told her that he wanted to have dinner with his parents in a couple of hours. She'd spent a little time over there, and though they weren't pleased that the girl their son was dating had what they chose to call, "problems with her plumbing," they were at least satisfied that she was nice enough, and what Ollie's dad had called her upon their first meeting, "A real looker." Even so, Berkley didn't like to spend too much time around them – they were nice enough people, but they always talked to her like she was a bit slow, presumably because they categorized people who wore diapers into only a few categories: Babies, old people, sickos and the mentally handicapped. They'd laid off this somewhat after Berkley had mentioned that both her mother and sister were incontinent as well, at which point both of them had turned to one another with shocked expressions etched across their faces.

Ollie was only vaguely aware that Berkley was uncomfortable around his parents, mostly because Berkley put up a carefree façade in their presence. Berkley wanted them to get to know her, but at the same time was alienated by their constant tone of superiority, as if they were somehow better because their "plumbing" worked just fine, despite them both being nearly forty years her senior.

Berkley and Ollie passed the time between their arrival at his house and dinner watching a British romantic comedy. Berkley realized she was wet about halfway through the movie, but was so comfortable laying there with Ollie on the family's futon that she disregarded it. As the movie ended, she felt her hunger peak, and only at that point did she realize that she'd also messed herself. She began to panic slightly, as she couldn't remember when she'd done it. She wondered why Ollie hadn't said anything when he smelled what she'd done, because the smell was so obvious now, lingering in the air like a fresh fart. Hell, his parents had walked through the room several times within the last few minutes and they hadn't said anything either. Hoping they might not have noticed, that maybe she'd just messed a minute or so ago, she got up to go to the bathroom to change.

"Ollie, I need to um...freshen up a bit...I'll be right back," She said, her face and ears burning. She tried to be as discreet as possible, but couldn't ignore the fact that she was leaving a trail of stink behind her, making it completely evident to everyone what she'd done. She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, emptied the majority of her mess into the toilet, and buried her used diaper at the bottom of their bathroom trash can, hoping nobody would be able to smell it very well with so many tissues, paper cups and empty toilet paper rolls piled on top of it.

When she had finished up in the bathroom, she headed back to the living room, saw Ollie sitting at the table in the dining room and shuffled over to sit down. She wanted to tell him what had happened, but was too embarrassed. Besides, he probably already knew – how thick would somebody have to be to not realize that there was a distinct fecal odor lingering in the air after their incontinent girlfriend rushed off so suddenly to the bathroom?

Berkley avoided making eye contact with Ollie's family throughout the entire meal, instead keeping her head down as she cut of piece after piece of her meal, looking thoroughly put out. She responded whenever somebody spoke to her, and asked politely for the salt and pepper a couple of times, but throughout the entire meal, she was sure she had avoided looking anyone, even Ollie, right in the eye. She supposed she should be glad that she hadn't messed herself right in the middle of the meal, which she knew would have been slightly harder to get away with, but even so, her situation had been highly embarrassing as it was, even though she wasn't completely sure Ollie's parents had even gotten a whiff of her accident.

After dinner, Ollie took her home, kissed her good night, and promised he'd see her at school on Monday. She wished him a good night, told him to drive home safely, and went inside where she watched him drive off through the window. After his tail lights had disappeared around the bend, she went back upstairs, thought momentarily of how she ought to work some more on the conclusion of her story, and gave the idea a pass for the time being. It was only a little after eight, so the idea of going to bed that had flittered into her mind flittered right back out. She considered playing some video games or maybe even reviewing her homework, but passed on those ideas too. She sighed, laid down on her bed, and stared at her door, thinking.

Chapter 2: Dreams and Memories

Berkley wasn't sure when it happened, as nobody ever is, but sometime after she lay down on her bed, she fell asleep. The dreams she had, she was vaguely aware later, were a mixture of many things – Memories, fantasies, and even elements of her own, unfinished story.

Though she couldn't quite remember how she'd gotten there, she found herself lying in a crib. She was wearing a diaper, but aside from that she was completely naked. She looked around for something to cover herself with, sure that somebody would come into the room at any moment. Finding no clothes in the crib, she resolved to pull her blanket over her, like a cloak. She was aware that she was smaller than usual, but no younger. Her hair was still the same length, rather than baby fuzz, her arms and legs were still firm, rather than the slightly flabby limbs of babies. Most reassuring to Berkley, however, was the fact that she still had breasts, however small they may be compared to either her mother's or sister's. Even dream Berkley had never made it to a B-cup.

The side of the crib seemed to fade away, and she crawled out of it. Everything seemed hazy for a moment as her surroundings formed themselves. There seemed to be soft music playing from down the hall and she found herself dragged forward, almost against her will, because it just seemed like the right thing to do. The hall was larger by far than the hallway in her house, or maybe she was just smaller than she'd guessed. As she approached a set of stairs, she seemed to grow suddenly bigger, as the blanket she was covering herself with covered less and less of her. A moment later, it seemed hardly bigger than a dish towel. The music seemed to grow no louder or softer, no matter where she went in the house, as if the music weren't coming from any one place, but everywhere at once.

She kept the piece of fabric that had been her blanket pinned to her chest, covering the only part of her that seemed necessary to cover, and with her free hand she gripped the handrail of the stairs as she went down. The stairs seemed to morph from a straight set of stairs to a spiraling walkway, going down and down, further and further. The light seemed to swell and dim, as if there was a constant power surge, made stranger still by the haziness of anything more than a few feet away.

At last, she got to the bottom of the stairs, just as they morphed back into a regular staircase again. She now seemed to be in a huge empty room, and she was slightly alarmed to find that her blanket had disappeared, and that she was now entirely naked, without even a diaper to cover her most intimate parts. She covered the soft tuft of hair there with one hand and bend her other arm across her chest, covering her breasts again. She felt herself burning with embarrassment, knowing that at any moment, somebody would come in and rebuke her for walking around a house that most certainly was not her house naked. To make matters worse, she suddenly felt she needed to go to the bathroom, but she hadn't the slightest idea of where one was!

She looked around frantically, her mind filling with dismay as she realized there were hundreds upon hundreds of doors lining the walls of the room. Feeling her need to relieve herself growing stronger and stronger with each passing second, she tossed open each door in turn, finding at least a dozen closets, kitchens, dining rooms, bedrooms and living rooms, but not a single sign of a bathroom. What was she going to do? She was going to end up relieving herself on the floor of this massive room if she didn't find a toilet soon. She wondered vaguely what had happened to her diaper, but continued to look through door after door for a bathroom. Eventually she'd made her way all around the room, and not a single one of the doors had been concealing a bathroom. She suddenly felt a warm sensation trickling down her leg and realized with horror that she was peeing. Then she heard several strange thuds, as some brown muddy substance fell in large chunks onto the floor. She sighed with relief, but immediately filled with shame at what she'd done.

She opened one of the doors, hoping to find a kitchen so she could grab some paper towels with which she might clean up the mess she'd made on the floor. When she opened the door, however, her surroundings seemed to morph into something new. She realized now that she was wearing a fancy dress, but that she was diapered beneath it. She looked around and saw that she was in her own home, and that the spot where she'd had such a disastrous accident a minute ago was now a very peculiarly placed toilet, right in the middle of her living room, about where the changing table would usually be.

The doorbell rang, and she realized for the first time that the peculiar music had subsided. She went to answer the door, where there was a strange girl, who looked nearly identical to herself, but lacking in detail, like a background character in an oil painting. She was wearing what looked like a onesie, despite standing on the front porch in plain view of everyone.

"Come on, Berkley, we need to go," the girl said, tugging at Berkley's arm. Berkley didn't resist, and the world around her seemed to take some time to form, so that for some time, the two of them moved through blurry surroundings, only occasionally passing by something that Berkley recognized. At last they came to a stop, and the world around them seemed to sharpen into being. Though Berkley didn't recognize the place, she knew, as people often do in dreams, where she was. Though it looked nothing like its real world counterpart, she knew this was supposed to be her school, and realized the dress she was wearing was a prom dress. She was, for some reason, at prom in diapers.

There were hundreds of blurry-faced people here, who all seemed to know her. Many of the people just seemed to be copies of one another, all wearing the same dresses and same tuxedos, all wearing their hear in the same styles, and dancing with the same partners, as if her mind couldn't be bothered to fill in the details with something more original. She was suddenly aware that her diaper was very full, despite having just relieved herself so thoroughly all over the floor of the strange building a minute ago.

A man, taller than her by far, but looking oh so familiar, seemed to come out of nowhere and scooped her up. He carried her like a baby to a changing table right in the middle of the dance floor. Berkley panicked as she realized what was about to happen as she kicked and screamed and clawed at the man, whom Berkley realized with a shock was Ollie, and that he wasn't so much taller than usual, but that she'd shrunk back down to the size of a toddler as soon as he'd grabbed hold of her. She wailed at the top of her lungs for Ollie to let her go, saying that she didn't need to be changed, despite the fact that her diaper had swollen to comical proportions, so that it looked like she was carrying a beach ball underneath her dress.

Ollie took no notice of her cries though, and strapped her to the changing table, lifted her dress above her head, and removed her diaper. Laughter filled the hall as her messy privates were put on full display for the entire school to see. She screamed and screamed for Ollie to put a new diaper on her, or at the very least to clean up her poop, so that she didn't look so much like a little kid who'd soiled herself.

The world reformed itself again, and she suddenly realized she was back at home in her crib, naked again, with Ollie, her sister and Eric standing over her.

"Where's mom?" she asked, trying to pull a blanket over herself, not wanting any of them to see her naked any more than she could avoid. The, three of them looked at each other, smiling, as if she'd just said something incredibly adorable. Suddenly the room went dark, as if the lights had gone out, and Berkley felt somebody groping at her breasts. She didn't slap the hand away, but moaned audibly, knowing whose hand it must be.

"Ollie, please..." she said, not sure whether she was begging for it to stop or for it to progress.

She spread her legs, unsure if she'd done it or if the unseen figure of Ollie had done it, but she made no effort to close them again. She felt a hand part the small tuft of hair between her thighs and slip inside her. She moaned and began to grind herself against it, letting the finger go in and out, in and out. She felt her bladder let go, but didn't worry, because she was suddenly sure Ollie didn't care. The darkness seemed to lift, and she saw Ollie leaning over her, naked, his penis throbbing as his fingers went in and out of her. Just as he was about to enter her in a somehow more personal way, however, she woke up.

She saw that it was still dark out, and wondered to herself what time it could possibly be. She looked at her clock and saw that it was only half past five in the morning – several hours earlier that her usual wake-up time on a Saturday morning. She knew right off the bat that she was soaked, but that the messings she'd performed in her dream had luckily remained there. She had decided that, though she liked messing herself, she didn't really enjoy the clean-up when it was she that had to do it.

She got out of bed, grinding her balled up fists into her eyes and yawning lowly. Her sight was still blurred with sleep and her mind still lost in the dreams she'd had – those oh so confusing and yet not unpleasant dreams. She recalled the ending very clearly – recalled what she and Ollie had been about to do, and felt a slight tingle and a gentle warmth swell between her thighs. Though she was quite alone in her room, she felt oddly embarrassed at the feeling.

She sat down at her computer desk and nearly nodded off as she waited for her computer to start up. When it had, she clicked impatiently at the word processor program she used to write her story, typed in the password that kept the document private, and began to think. Her mind drifted back to when Bailey had first been put into diapers after she began wetting her pants at school. She remembered the very first time it had happened; Bailey and their mother had tried to keep her in the dark about it, but she wasn't stupid. She saw Bailey taking her single pair of jeans downstairs to the basement, where the laundry was done. She saw the dark stain that spread all down the legs. To make the evidence clearer still, she smelled the unmistakable odor of stale urine.

Bailey and their mother had been right to try to keep Bailey's accident from her, because she had found it hilarious – her older, oh-so-mature sister, had wet her pants at school. It was delicious gossip, which she could hold over Bailey for years, maybe even the rest of their lives. But were there perhaps some misgiving in her, some sour thoughts about how she had treated her sister? If there were, they were quickly pushed aside, so that she could have some small thing that she could hold over her perfect older sister – She, the younger sister, the overlooked, the constantly overshadowed sibling, had at the very least never wet her pants in living memory. She had, in fact, gotten successfully potty trained at an extraordinarily early age and had remained clean and dry ever since. She may not be as smart or as athletic, or even as good at video games as Bailey, but here at last, she was better than her at something.

Then, not long after, Bailey had wet herself again, and had been taken to the doctor to see if she might have some sort of infection. The doctor had deferred them to a urologist, who had given them the diagnosis that Bailey had become somewhat incontinent, presumably due to psychological issues, as her body seemed perfectly fine. This had been another gem to Berkley, who on top of being able to laugh at her older sister for wetting her pants, also got to laugh at her for having something wrong with her mind.

After another couple of weeks and several more wetting accidents, their mom had bought Bailey diapers, and Berkley almost exploded from trying to withhold her laughter – their mom had absolutely forbidden Berkley from making fun of Bailey for wearing diapers. Months passed, and those odd, shady thoughts she sometimes had crept in more and more often. She slowly began to see these thoughts for what they were – pure, unadulterated jealousy. She was jealous that her sister and mom were in diapers and she was not. The absurdity of these thoughts was undeniable, but there it was. To Berkley, it was almost as if she'd been excluded from a club.

It was also around this time that she'd begun to look into the phenomenon that was her weird fascination with diapers, and she learned that she was not alone. It disturbed her a little to learn that the vast majority of the people that liked diapers seemed to be men with a sexual fixation. She was at least old enough to know what did and what did not turn her on, and diapers most certainly did not turn her on. She quickly deleted her search history after browsing these sites, and even deleted the cookies off her computer, just in case the subject might crop up in a search bar in the future, at which point Berkley would have a lot of explaining to do. Bailey might be smart, but Berkley...she was very clever.

With these thoughts echoing across the years, Berkley put her fingertips to the keys of her computer and began to type, gaining in momentum until she was churning out paragraphs and pages once more, the writing becoming much better and easier to work into coherent thought as the end of her story loomed nearer and nearer. By now it was the size of a small novel – over seventy-seven thousand words in length, and all of it masterfully written, at least as well as an eighteen year-old girl could be reasonably expected to write.

By nine o' clock, Berkley had completely finished her story, and her eyes were burning from the time she'd spent staring blankly at the screen. Her fingers felt so very lively, as if burning to write more, but she dared not. She dared not. If she were to write even another paragraph, she was worried that she might go off on a frenzy and work in a few more plot details that she might convince herself needed to be cleared up a bit more, and before she knew it she'd be jotting down notes that would take another two or three chapters to work out entirely. No, it was simplest to leave off as it was – finished.

She sat up and felt her diaper sag. She'd neglected to change herself, and her inner thighs were starting to get a little itchy. She wasn't quite to the point of a full-blown rash, but she knew she needed to get changed soon. She realized she would have to do it herself – her mom would almost certainly be unwilling to help her change now that her punishment was over. She waddled down the hall and down the stairs to the living room, where she grabbed a clean diaper out of the pile beneath the changing table. She wasn't the least bit surprised to see her mom sitting up, sipping a cup of coffee, and watching the weather channel.

Part of Berkley yearned for her mom to look up and ask, "Need help, Berk? Hop up on the table and let me change you." No such thing happened though, and Berkley was forced to resign herself that she really would have to begin changing herself. She carried the fresh diaper with her up the stairs, closing the door to her room behind her. She laid the fresh diaper out on the bed and began changing herself. Though it was one of the few times she'd ever done it, she thought she did a reasonably good job. Unlike Bailey, who'd been adept at diapering herself for some time due to her incontinence, Berkley wasn't a master diaper-changer, but this time it fit snugly enough, and all the tapes were anchored firmly to the front of the white plastic, stopping just short of the color-changing strip that would show when she was wet.

She got up off the bed and sat down at her computer. She skimmed over her finished story, clicked the save button, and then opened up her web browser. One site at a time, she posted her story online. She wondered if people would like it – she hoped so, as she'd spent nearly an entire year writing it.

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