The Rehabilitation of Kylie

Written by Max Harper

Part One: The Process

The room was bland and bleak, empty save for the singular twin sized bed. The bed was back against the far wall and was bolted to the floor. It had a wooden frame, similar to a four post bed, and the posts were simple in design, wooden poles essentially. There were conical holes drilled into each post that went six inches deep. They didn’t seem to have any purpose but it appeared that they were made intentionally. There was a line that separated the room, two inches wide, that split the room cleanly in two. The line, an indented depression into the floor and walls, looked as if something was meant to slot into the space that had been cut out. The back wall, above the bed, had two metal looking circles, 6 inches in diameter, that were flush with the wall. They were three feet above the mattress and were roughly two and a half feet apart. Smooth to the touch, they stood out as the only truly significant shapes in the room. It was a sterile, depressing place, designed to put the occupant on edge.

Kylie Gillis stood on the threshold of the room. It was intimidating and she was having second thoughts about going through with her plan. Kylie had spent the past few weeks slowly falling into a regressive state in order to cope with several traumatic events that had manifested themselves through an uncontrollable bladder. Her mother, Lorianne, had taken it upon herself to help her daughter by first forcing Kylie to wear pull ups and eventually, diapers. Her regression had accelerated in the past week, with Lori no longer trying to punish her for her wetting issues, but instead, attempting to help her. There was still a tension between them and it came to a head at a formal ball. Kylie’s shame was exposed by a cruel girl she had gone to cheerleading camp with, who had recorded Kylie getting her diaper changed in a public bathroom. While the humiliation had been terrible, it had been a stark reminder that Kylie needed a better, more structured means of dealing with her trauma.

The answer, tossed in her lap as an offer, was the Institute. The Institute was a covert society that operated within the confines of high society. Operated by the mysterious Professor Moira Vale, the Institute took in all sorts of trouble individuals that were troubled and reformed them into responsible, respectable adults. They did so through various means, but the offer to Kylie was a place in the First Step program. Her mother had gotten a job offer from Moira as well and Kylie truly believed that she was making the best choice for both of them. Kylie could get the help that she needed and Lori could get a jumpstart on a much better and more lucrative career.

Orientation, as they called it, was the first sign to Kylie that she was in over her head. She had been in a group of perhaps a dozen people, from all walks of life. Some were there because, like her, they chose to be, others were there by court order, and there were whispers among them that there were others in the program that were being forced to be there. Kylie had signed some forms, a nondisclosure agreement, power of attorney, and a few others, essentially saying that the Institute had her permission to treat her as they saw fit, with little Kylie could do as recompense.

Once all the documents were signed, each of them was given two wristbands, one colored red, the other blue. Once fastened on, there seemed to be no way they could be taken off. They were led to a large room where they were instructed to sit. Here was the first time that Kylie had a chance to look around and see the diverse group she was tossed in with. She sat at a table with two guys, both looking just as scared as she felt even shyer. They were looking around as well and would quickly dart their eyes away or hang their heads down to avoid any eye contact with anyone. Kylie wasn’t sure what she had gotten into. Everyone seemed to be on edge and paranoid. A few people looked pale, as if they had just realized that they had made the wrong choice. Kylie had expected things to be more one on one, and not to be thrown into a mix with a bunch of people. It was unnerving and made her seriously think about trying to find a way to back out of all of this.

An older man, in his fifties at least, walked into the room. He had an intimidating presence and walked with rehearsed grace. This group wasn’t his first rodeo and certainly wouldn’t be his last. He stood in the middle of the room until everyone had turned their attention to him.

“Welcome, boys and girls! Today begins the first day of the rest of your life. All of you here have made a commitment to better yourself through behavior adjustment. While many, if not all of you, are here for different reasons, you are all here for the same purpose, to become the best you that you can be. I’d like you all to take a moment and, if you haven’t, secure your wrist bands to your wrists. Red to right, blue to left. These are for your safety and as an identifier to any of the staff to which program you belong to.

“We understand that this is a very strange and scary time. There are many things that you don’t know, and many things that may come as a shock to you, but rest assured, we have your best interests at heart. This program, and the staff involved, is one of the best programs from behavior rehabilitation that has ever been created and as I’m sure that you have been told, this program is one hundred percent effective. We don’t fail to help anyone who comes through these doors and puts their care in our hands.

“From here, you will be divided into small groups of three for personal interviews and a medical examination. We implore you to be as honest as you can with these processes. The more we know, the more we can cater our program to your care. Afterwards, you will be directed to your rooms until the selection process, in which you will be assigned a staff member who will facilitate you into the program.

“I am sure that you have many questions, but there is a time and a place for them. That time is not now. For now, breathe, relax, and prepare yourself. You have taken your first step to the new you. There are many steps ahead, and we will be here for you every step of the way.

“So, in a few moments, you will be taken by the table to the personal interviews and on behalf of Dr. Moira Vale, myself, and our staff, we welcome you to the Institute!”

He quickly walked out of the room and within moments, there were several staff members in white coats, looking a lot like doctors, walking around the room. One of them, a quiet, but large woman, came over to Kylie’s table. She asked the three of them their names and looked down the list on the clipboard. She looked at the two boys that sat with Kylie, raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She motioned for them to follow her and led them to a hallway of offices. In front of each door were two chairs. Kylie had noticed as they walked down the hall, strange metal looking circles on the walls, sitting just high enough to be in line with the seats of the chairs that were bolted to the floor. It all looked suspicious but when she and one of the boys sat down by one of the office doors, nothing happened. She had no idea of what to expect but knew enough that the metal circles were meant for something.

They sat quietly while the first boy went into the office. There were a few other people in the hall but they were too far away to talk to and the general tone was solemn. Kylie was starting to feel the trembles of anxiety and fear. The same trembles that, if left unchecked, would lead her to wetting her pants where she sat. She looked up and down the hall but didn’t see any signs labeling a bathroom. She was sure that she wouldn’t be allowed to use one anyway, but as she had arrived that morning with her regular adult clothes on, she wasn’t as protected as she would have liked.

The boy who sat next to her noticed her fidgeting and tried to engage her in conversation.

“Hi. My name is Callum. What’s yours?”

She looked at him, trying to get a read on the type of person he was before divulging any personal information. His face seemed just as anxious as hers and it was slightly soothing to know that she wasn’t alone in her feelings.

“Kylie. My name is Kylie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kylie.”

“Likewise.”

“Are you getting cold feet, too? Like, the more we get into this the more I’m thinking that I shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah. This all feels off, somehow. Like, I don’t know. Like-”

“Like we are walking into a trap or something. With all the paperwork that we signed, I’m sure that there isn’t a way for us to walk away from this anyway.”

“They can’t legally keep us here. That’s kidnapping.”

“Perhaps. We did sign our rights away of our own volition though.”

“True, but for proper, ethical care.”

“Ethical care? Did they tell you what they do here?”

“I have an idea, yeah.”

“Total regression to an infantile state. It’s phase three on their list. Total regression.” Callum shook his head in disbelief. “It means that they are going to turn us into babies.”

“I suppose so.”

“And you want that?”

Kylie paused, unsure of how to answer the question. “Don’t you?”

“I...I suppose that I do. In some way, I think I have always wanted it.”

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Because...well...because of a lot of things.”

“If you’re not comfortable talking to me about this, it’s okay.”

“No. No. It’s fine. I guess that I’ve never really had to explain myself to a girl before. My therapist was a guy and there was no way that I could ever tell my mother about it.”

“Oh. I…”

“The short part of it is that I’m looking to only get partway through the program. They say that the care can be altered to fit each client’s needs and I don’t need to go all the way through with it.”

“How come?”

“Because I don’t want to come back out of diapers. I want to be in them forever, free from the stress of maintaining an adult persona.”

“You want to stay in diapers? Forever?”

“Yeah. There is just something so liberating about them. But, more importantly, there is something liberating about not having a choice anymore. When I wear one on my own, there is always a choice. When to put them on. How long to wear them. When to change them. When to take them off. There is always a decision to be made. I don’t want that decision anymore. And I don’t want to feel so ashamed about wanting to wear one. So I’m looking for that choice to be taken away from me.”

“So why don’t you just put them on and never take them off?”

“Because there is always that social stigma that comes with wearing diapers. You never want to be the one caught wearing them and everyone, no matter what, turns their noses up at you for being some kind of freak.”

“I don’t think you are a freak.”

“I appreciate that. I do. I just don’t think you realize how hard it is for someone like me.”

“I haven’t exactly had it easy myself, but what do you mean?”

“I mean that it’s hard enough trying to fit in normally without people judging you but to add something like this on top of it, makes it almost impossible to function in normal society without looking over your shoulder every five minutes.”

“So what would being regressed do? And it’s not like I don’t worry about being judged too.”

“But you’re a girl. The standard is different for you.” “What standard?”

“The double standard. I hate it. For girls, it doesn’t seem to matter what the kink or fetish is, it’s always accepted. If a girl wears a diaper or a pull up, she’s seen as expressing herself and being cute. If a guy does it, he’s a pervert or a pedophile. It’s sickening. But I get it. Sex sells. It always has, always will, which is why girls can get away with practically anything, and because most of the true audience, or, at least, most of the real people in the kink are guys. They want to see girls with the same interests so that they don’t feel so alone and don’t want to come off as gay or whatever if they meet another guy in the scene. It’s terrible how one sided it all is. We make post after post on social media about how we claim to accept everyone, no matter what, but the like to ignore ratio on girl’s content versus boy’s content says otherwise.”

“So you think that everyone accepts girls no matter what they do? Then you should talk to my mother. She had no concept of accepting what’s happening to me until she tried to punish me with diapers. And even then, I'm not sure that she fully understood what she had done.”

“At least you had someone that cared. I have never had that. And that’s what I want. I want someone to take the choice away from me. Permanently. Not just here, in a therapeutic sense, but to control my life in such a way that I would never think about using a toilet again.”

“You want someone to keep you in diapers?”

“Exactly…”

“I guess I’m having a hard time understanding why.”

“Because I want someone to love me enough to know that diapers are what’s best for me. No matter how much I may whine or protest, that I need to be in them to be myself. To be the real me.”

Kylie sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what Callum had said. 

“And you are sure that diapers are a part of the real you?”

“Yes. Wearing diapers is the only way that I feel truly happy. I wish I could explain it. If I could, maybe my therapist would have been able to help me instead of sending me here, but I can’t. All I know is that I want to be able to give myself fully, truthfully to someone and I can’t do that unless they and I can accept who I truly am.”

“Someone who wears diapers?” “Among other things.”

“Other things?”

“Things I’d rather not talk to a girl about. Sorry. So what’s your story?”

“It’s fine. Me? I have an overactive bladder brought on by stress and direct conflict aversion. In short, I wet my pants if someone gets in my face or I get too worked up. I’m not sure where it started or why it keeps happening, but my mom tried to help me sort it out by making me wear pull ups but after sneaking a pair of underwear to a party, she put me in diapers as a punishment. Turns out, wearing them helps me deal with all the confusion in my head, makes me feel a lot better about myself, causes my mother to actually care about me for a while, but it’s too much for her to take on and so I’m here. I’m hoping that this program will help me get rid of my confusion and help me get to the bottom of what’s causing me to want to regress to being a baby.”

“Huh. Isn’t that something?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no! Not at all. It’s just that most bedwetters don’t admit it, much less openly talk about being put back in diapers, or needing to. I frequent a lot of forums and chat rooms looking for like minded people and it’s one of the trends I’ve seen.”

“You do know that there is a whole world outside of the internet, right?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m an IT specialist in a corporate office building. I make 80K a year and have my own house and everything. But what I don’t seem to have is a lot of honesty. With the anonymity of the internet, most people are able to truly say what they feel, even if it’s contrary to popular opinion.”

“You can’t believe everything that you read on the internet.”

“No. This is true. But who would bother to make up some of the stories that I’ve heard? Like yours for instance. Most normal people would never say that they have openly wet themselves unless they were drunk and even then, it would be a punchline. But you have an actual problem that you are seeking help for. That’s not something that you should be ashamed of.”

“Who said I was ashamed?”

“We are all ashamed. Do you think I would ever spill my guts about my desire to wear diapers to anyone who’d never worn diapers outside of infancy? I’m definitely ashamed. I’m ashamed that I have these urges but at the same time, I’m ashamed that my urges are looked down upon so harshly. It’s not like I’m harming anyone. But the shame is still there. It’s there for you two. You remember the worst day you had in diapers? I do. It was one of the worst days of my life. And one of the best. When I look back on it and take the emotions out of it, I always get the feeling like it was meant to be.”

“Meant to be?” Kylie thought back to her worst day in diapers. It was in the pharmacy when she had messed herself because she was locked in her diapers because of the plastic pants. She tried to look back on it without the emotion like Callum said. It was strange. Beyond the disgust and revulsion, she felt...strange. It had been the first time that her mother had shown her any real care or concern for her situation. Also, the whole ordeal, being confined in diapers and forced to use them like a real baby would be...liberating. Sure, she had done her best to avoid the same situation, but the second time she messed her diapers, she felt none of the same emotions she had before. It was like the first time was the shock of actually messing had altered how she handled the event. She had given in to being a baby and she found that messing herself was one of the most babyish things that she could do. The more babyish she acted, the better she felt.

“I can see that you did what I did. You looked back and took the emotion out of the memory, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. That was really strange.”

“Because you viewed it all differently, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. It was amazing. And when something similar happened, I dealt with it entirely differently.”

“So did I, which means to me that what happened to me was meant to be. It was meant to show me what my path really is. For all the shame I felt, I also felt the closest to real acceptance of who I am and I only hope that I can find a Daddy who can help me reach my goals.”

“A..?” The realization hit her that Callum was not what she thought he was. She chastised herself for assuming that people all fit into easily identifiable boxes. It made sense why he was so opinionated about the stereotypes of genders.

“I hope we all find what we are looking for.”

The office door opened and the first boy came out. He looked much the same as he did when he entered, perhaps a little more sullen. He stood off to the side, wringing his hands and looking like someone had stared into his soul. The doctor stood in front of him, looking at the list he had.

“You’re next young lady. Let’s go.”

That was all he said before he returned to the office.

“Good luck.” Callum said as Kylie stood up, the trembles that had passed during their conversation had returned. She still had the urge to pee but was trying her best to hold it. The office was simple, there were several certificates on the wall, plaques and pictures on shelves, and a modest desk in the middle with a high backed chair behind it. There was a chair, simple, made of plastic, very similar to ones out in the hallway. The doctor sat in the high backed chair and motioned for Kylie to sit in the less luxurious chair.

“Welcome, Ms. Gillis. I can assure you that this is just a formality. I’ve received word from upstairs that you are exempt from the typical policies and procedures that would normally exclude you from this program. You have made friends in high places, young lady and someone has taken an interest in your case.”

“Uhhh, okay. What does that mean?”

“That means that for the next thirty minutes or so, you are free to sit there as you are. You may ask me any question that you may have and I will do my best to answer them. As we are on a schedule, I can’t just skip ahead to the next person, so we wait.”

“Oh. I see.”

“You seem intimidated. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess so. I was just wondering what is going to happen now?”

“Well, after the selection process, which, by your file here, has already been decided, I will take you to your room and you will wait there until they come to get you.”

“Come to get me?”

“Yes. While this building is well suited, we have found that a more personal approach brings the benefit of a more lasting resolution. Therefore, we have developed our program to work in a more real world setting.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means that our clients tend to stay at approved locations outside of this building. Therapy and healing are not practices to be taken lightly and when the patient feels the most comfortable, they can heal properly.”

“Like, a safe house?”

“Correct. A house deemed safe. This program requires around the clock care, and we can’t expect our staff to spend all of their time here.”

“That makes sense.” Kylie said, her voice uneasy. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“This all seems like it’s too much. I don’t even know what’s going to happen to me.”

The doctor sat Kylie’s file down on the desk and looked at her. His job was to keep as much information away from the clients as he could. It wasn’t an easy task. Most of the people that sat across from his desk were like Kylie. They were all scared and uneasy. He understood why there needed to be such secrecy. If they really knew what would or could be involved in their treatment, then they would reject the care. Any sort of rejection made it harder on the client and the staff. That meant that every new step was introduced slowly, based solely on the client and not on a rigid schedule. The client had to be open to the next stage well before it was introduced to ensure a smooth transition. It was crucial to keep the client in the dark, at least, those that didn’t know what they had signed up for. This young girl was different, however, as she seemed to know a lot of what was in store for her.

“This program goes in steps, hence the First Step moniker. A lot of the steps are small half steps to the major steps that the program is outlined to be. Typically, a client goes through several of these steps without any knowledge or intervention by the Institute. Your case is rather unique in that you have made it through several of the steps prior to coming here. Steps that would be milestones for a client in our care.”

“Like?”

“Well, step one is what we call the Introduction. In this step, the client is introduced to the main tools of their treatment, diapers and caregivers, with the goal of total regression. You have bypassed that step with the aid of your mother. You know what to expect from this step and a few others.

“Step two is Routine. This step, which can take a great deal of time, is where the client needs to come to terms with the program, in that what would seem like a fad or a craze or fun for a while, becomes the norm. A lot of the resistance comes from this stage when something that seems fun or interesting every now and then becomes an everyday affair. The desire and urges are no longer there and the need for consistency comes into play. Step three is Exposure. Which is where you are at, roughly. Exposure is where the shame or stigma is exposed and dealt with. This stage is very tumultuous. A client can either push through this step and move on, which generally leads to an understanding of where their issues are coming from or they could revert back to step two or even step one, where all the previous progress is tossed out the window. Starting over adds time and adds steps, designed to slow down the process in order to make the transitions between steps more bearable.”

The doctor fell silent and stared off into space for a moment. He knew that he was toeing the line and that any more divulging could cause damage to her care and cost him his job.

“And? Is that all?”

“No. There is more to it than that, but I’m not allowed to say what they are. Our program and the level of care that we offer hinge a lot on our ability to gauge when and where a client gets to know the next stage.”

“Doesn’t my want to get better seem like a commitment enough to know what I’m getting into?”

“No. And I only say that because you can be resolute now but falter later. If you know what’s coming, you can push or demand to move on to the next step without getting the true care that each step is designed to give. That mentality can be dangerous and lead to irreparable damage to the client and the caregiver. And I can see the confusion on your face, but yes, our caregivers are also at risk if a program goes sideways. They put a lot of effort and care, true care, into their clients that when problems do arise, it's harmful for both of them. This is why our caregivers only take on two or three clients a year. This type of care takes time. A lot of time. And that level of commitment to the wellbeing of another person leads to emotional connections. With our staff in mind, we do our best to prevent any disruptions in the program, so the secrecy of the steps is best kept from the client.”

“I see. I mean, it makes sense. Can you at least tell me the end?”

“The end of the first phase is Acceptance. Acceptance of what is causing the behavior, what can be done to prevent any further problems down the line, and of the client's new state of being.”

“A baby?”

“Correct, in every sense of the word, save for their mental wellbeing. You will still be an adult in your mind, capable of adult thought and discussion, but emotionally and physically reliant as a baby would be.

“While that may sound easy, let me assure you that it isn’t. To truly and fully let go of everything that you carry with you, mentally, emotionally, and physically is a lot harder to accomplish than it sounds. We want you to be free. Free from doubt, free from fear, free from judgment, free from anything and everything that keeps the adult you from being happy. Many who get to that step have a tendency to stall their progress because the adult mind, the one part we will not regress, has to be willing to accept the program as it’s been put before them. It’s not just the physical regression, but the emotional rehabilitation that makes this program so successful. When you are able to accomplish that, you will truly be free.”

“Have...have you done it?”

“The program? No. I haven’t. I don’t...qualify.” “Wha-”

“It’s time to go. I may have already said too much but if you want some advice, be honest with your caregiver. They may start off as acting like they don’t care or something like that, but they know just as much about you as you know about them. It’s a rough transition but once you get over being shy and scared, you find that they want to care about you as much as you want to care for them.

“Now, if you will follow me.”

He led her out of the office and down the hall, leaving Callum and the other boy to sit where they were. He led her down many halls and eventually to one labeled Transitional Hall 7. Kylie wanted to ask what the sign meant but the doctor was no longer in a chatting mood. He arrived at room number 4 and opened it with his keycard.

“Good luck, Ms. Gillis.” A last formal goodbye before the door clicked shut and Kylie was left alone.

She had walked around the room before returning to the door. Everything seemed to be far too strange for her to relax and the bed had an air of mistrust about it. She couldn’t quite figure out why the bed made her feel so uneasy but it did and to quell the twisting knots in her stomach, she huddled in the corner of the room by the door.

Kylie didn’t know how long she waited. She knew that she was facing the problem that had ultimately led her to this point. She had to pee. And badly. She didn’t see any other rooms or means of relieving herself. She had tried the door several times but it had no handle and was sealed firmly shut. She had slowly been resigning herself to squatting in a different corner to ease the pain in her bladder. Convinced that she could hold it no longer, she walked to the opposite corner of the room, on a diagonal path, to do her business. She had just pulled her panties down and was crouching when she heard a clicking noise and a solid pane of clear plastic slid down from the ceiling. It followed the track on the walls that cleanly cut the room in two. It stopped moving with barely a sound and the clicking noise faded away. Startled, Kylie pulled her clothes back up, her heart racing and the need to pee fading into the thudding of the heartbeat in her ears.

The door on the other side of the room opened and the lights dimmed, all but the ones that shone on Kylie’s side of the room. A person entered, pushing a cart. Kylie heard the click of high heels and knew that the doctor that had seen her before was not returning. The woman stepped into the light and looked at Kylie. There was a tense silence between them as they sized each other up.

“Hello, Kylie. My name is Dr. Duncan and I will be your caregiver. I’m sure that you have a lot of questions and a lot of concerns but let me assure you that I mean you no harm and if you are ready, I would like to begin the Introductory process. I know that you may feel uneasy and trepidatious. Those feelings are completely normal so, before we go any further, I want to give you the chance to ask or say anything that is on your mind. Anything at all. Don’t hold back. I will be honest with you if you are honest with me.”

Kylie didn’t know it, but it was a test. The first of many. Everyone brought into the program was placed in a similar situation, locked in a room with no way to find or use a bathroom. It was a simple test, but a crucial one. Many, who were not accepting of the program, would resist the urge to say anything about their discomfort, but those that knew what was coming and what was to be expected of them, would behave otherwise.

Kylie did know that Dr. Duncan’s voice and words were calming. She was trying to be as soothing as possible to the girl behind the glass. This was their first chance to build a little trust.

“I really need to pee!” Kylie said, crossing her legs and starting to bounce.

“Like, really, really bad! I don’t know how much longer I can hold it!”

“Would you like me to take care of you?”

Kylie nodded with urgency. She wasn’t truly ready to be exposed to a stranger, but she didn’t want to wet her pants.

“Lie down on the bed with your arms above your head.”

The instruction sounded strange but Kylie did what she was told. Dr. Duncan waited for a moment and then pressed a button on a device she pulled from her pocket. Kylie heard a faint buzzing noise and her wrists were pulled by the armbands into the metal discs above her head.

Magnets! Those are magnets!

Kylie tried to pull her arms away from the wall but couldn’t. They wouldn’t budge and she was now helpless. Another press of a button and the plastic partition raised back into the ceiling. Dr. Duncan pushed the cart over to the bed and Kylie. Kylie could see the woman more clearly now, but her urgency to pee was overwhelming her memory retrieval.

Dr. Duncan was professional and efficient. She undid Kylie’s pants and with Kylie helping by lifting her hips into the air, Dr. Duncan was able to slide the tight jeans down the young girl’s legs. Kylie was anxious about what would happen next. She wasn’t ready to have her private area exposed or touched by this woman. She wanted to protest and complain, but she needed relief. Dr. Duncan pulled a plain medical style diaper from the car and quickly unfolded it, fluffing it for a second before sliding it under Kylie’s raised bottom. Kylie looked at her confused as Dr. Duncan pulled the diaper up between Kylie’s legs and began taping it to Kylie’s waist.

“Normally, I would take my time to remove all of your adult clothes, but I can see the urgency on your face and I want to spare you the embarrassment of wetting your panties. Since we have plenty of time, we can take a few moments to get to know each other.”

She finished securing the tapes and stood back. “Would you like me to pull your pants back up?”

They both knew that Kylie’s pants wouldn’t fit over the bulk of the diaper but the gesture was endearing. Kylie nodded just to see what would happen. Dr. Duncan did what she could, but couldn’t get Kylie’s pants to even cover half of the diaper. She understood that Kylie was nervous and would prefer a little privacy. She shuffled through some articles on the cart before pulling out a small nursing blanket and laying it over Kylie’s diaper.

“Best I can do on short notice. We will have to see what we can do about getting you some better fitting clothes. I’ll be back shortly.” She moved the cart off to one side and stepped back from the bed. She pulled the device from her pocket and pressed another button. From the ceiling, a panel slid to one side. A four walled structure slowly descended from the ceiling. The more the light hit it the more Kylie could see. Running vertically up the structure were thin bars, like slats and each corner had 4 conical points. A quick glance told Kylie where they were going and what they were meant to do.

As the structure descended into place, Kylie had to be amazed at how nefariously efficient the Institute was. The crib slats, spaced far enough apart to not endanger Kylie’s arms, were made of polished metal, most likely aluminum. They stretched from the four posts that were just above the mattress to the low ceiling. She could see that one side of the crib walls was designed to slide down farther and allow the occupant to be retrieved or cared for. All in all, it was the first time that Kylie truly felt trapped. Her anxiety skyrocketed and within moments, she was wetting herself. It felt strange to wet her panties, inside of a diaper, in a gushing torrent. She was grateful for the blanket, more than she was willing to let on.

Dr. Duncan pressed a different button and Kylie felt her hands drop. They were starting to go numb and it was a pleasant reprieve. She pulled her hands through the crib walls and rubbed them to increase the blood flow.

“I’ll be back in a little while. I urge you to just relax and when you are ready, I will change you. If you want.”

“If...I want?”

“Some prefer to stay in them longer while wet. Mostly to get the maximum use of them, others, for different reasons.”

“Will you be gone long?” Kylie asked, sitting up and feeling the squish of the expanding diaper between her legs.

“Would you rather I stay?”

“I...yes...I don’t want to be locked up in here.” “Is there someplace you would rather be?”

“Yes. And no. I just don’t want to be alone.” She didn’t know why she was feeling sad and she didn’t know why she was trying to cling to this woman. With her mind free and her diaper soaked, she could remember where she saw this woman and her familiarity was solace in this bleak room.

Dr. Donna Duncan was the woman who had spanked her tormentor, Lucy, last week at the debutante ball. Kylie wasn’t sure if the woman knew who Kylie was as she made no effort to show it. Kylie could vividly recall how Donna had pulled Lucy over her knee and could remember the screams of her tormentor as she was being spanked. Donna didn’t look that imposing, standing perhaps five foot and ten inches without her heels. She had a modest build, not unlike a mother in her early forties, with dark hair that came down to breasts. She commanded respect with her presence normally, but in that dark, foreboding room, Kylie could feel a softer side to the woman.

“I see. Well, if you are to come with me, then there are a few things that we need to discuss. One, we are still early in the selection process and part of that is a positive response from you. I am willing to be your caregiver, but you have to choose me to take care of you.

These decisions are not to be made lightly, as they are irreversible. Once chosen, it cannot be changed. But if you are ready to make that choice, then we can go down to the Transfer department and fill out the forms.

“Two, I am a fair but strict caregiver. I do not appreciate or will not allow any sort of misbehavior. When under my care, you will follow my rules as I set them, without question, no exceptions. For example, if I say that you are forbidden from touching your diapers, you are expressly forbidden from doing so and if need be, I will ensure that you can’t.

“I have read your file and I have talked with your mother. It is my belief that I can help you in all the ways that you need to be helped but I will not tolerate games. Many people come here thinking that they can get their way or get out of their treatment when things get tough and they always find that the hard way is not the best way.

“So, I ask you, unofficially, do you want me to be your caregiver?”

Kylie sat there, looking at Donna through the bars of her crib. If she were just to take her predicament into account, the answer would have been an obvious and resounding yes. Trapped in the crib with a wet diaper, the answer was easy, but when she took everything into account, she was less sure. She knew that Donna was an imposing figure who didn’t hesitate to take matters into her own hands. Kylie also knew that she needed help, she needed someone to care for her and Donna was offering to do just that. She knew when she signed the release forms that she was going to end up back in diapers no matter what. She also knew that she didn’t want to press her luck with these people. So far, they had all been accommodating and rather pleasant. If she were to deny Donna, what kind of person would she get next?

The great unknown stretched out before her. With so much riding on such a simple decision, she felt lost. Her emotions surged and her eyes watered. She felt so helpless and alone and wanted nothing more than her mommy. A mommy. Any mommy. She looked at Donna through the bars and saw someone who was offering to care for her, to wipe her tears, and hold her close. She didn’t know if Donna would really do any of those things, but she was willing to try.

Kylie nodded yes as the tears began to fall. She didn’t know why she was crying, her emotions were just that out of whack. Donna walked over to her as the crib walls raised. She wrapped Kylie up in a hug, pressing the young girl’s face into her bosom. Kylie was crying openly now, an emotional catharsis.

“Let’s get you changed and we can go finish the rest of the paperwork.” Kylie nodded, her face smothered by Donna’s soft flesh. “Yes, Mommy.”

Donna pulled back from Kylie, startling her. She took Kylie by the chin, tilting her head upwards so their eyes could meet.

“I am not your mommy, nor will I ever be. You may call me Aunt Donna or Aunty, but not Mommy. Am I understood?”

Kylie could barely move her head but she nodded as best as she could. Donna’s voice had run cold in a second and it was unexpected.

“Good. Now let's get these pants off of you. We don’t want you tripping on them.”       Donna said, reaching for Kylie’s pants. Kylie pried her shoes off and her socks went with her jeans. She tried to pull her shirt down to hide her wet diaper but Donna slapped her hand. Not hard, but enough to let her know. “Don’t be modest, babies don’t hide their diapers.”

“But everyone will see them!”

“And?”

“I’m wet!”

“And?”

“Aren’t you going to change me first?”

“Ahh, and now we are on to rule number two, you do not get to ask when or where your diaper gets changed. Now stop fussing and let’s go.”

Kylie pouted. Exposure, especially when she needed to be changed, was something that she had a hard time with. Beneath Donna’s stern tone was a hint of sincerity. She knew that her latest charge was going to struggle in that area. Donna couldn’t blame her, many of the clients she took on had the same anxiety, but Donna felt it best to ignore their pleas and carry on. She would have to mark a note in her files at home to find as many ways as she could to have

Kylie’s diapered state exposed. It was part of the therapy, part of Acceptance. She needed to no longer be shy or afraid of anyone seeing her diapers, and, eventually, of anyone changing her diapers. She had a long way to go, but as she took Donna’s hand and they walked towards the door, Donna felt confident that Kylie’s hang ups wouldn’t take too long to go away.

Donna fished a name badge from her blouse and it to a piece of glass near the door and the lock clicked open. Kylie hadn’t recalled feeling anything like that when she was pressed against Donna’s chest but she quickly waved the thought aside. She pushed it open and felt Kylie’s hand tighten around hers. Kylie’s apprehension was palatable. She eased up slightly when she stuck her head out the door to see that the hallway was empty. She stayed tense all the way down the hallway but practically locked up the second they came across anyone else. She hid behind Donna the best she could as people passed them, trying in vain to hide her diaper. Nothing was said to her or at all, the unknown people just walked by without so much of a pause.

Kylie paled when they left the series of hallways that spilled into a large cafeteria. Along one wall were various fast food stands. The whole thing looked like the entrance to the local mall. There were round tables organized in lines across the open floor and there were people everywhere. Kylie pulled her hand from Donna’s grip and froze in place. There was no way she was going to pass by or through such a large number of people. She shrank towards the closest wall, trying her best to be invisible.

“Kylie?” A boy’s voice startled her. He was behind her and Kylie did her best to not turn around and expose herself. Callum came up next to her. He was in a tee shirt, a pink diaper, and a harness. Behind him, a burly man held the end of what looked like a leash. Kylie tried to speak but only squeaked, utterly embarrassed. She waved him away but he didn’t move.

“It’s okay. Look, I’m in a diaper just like you! You have nothing to be ashamed about!” “Go away!” She muttered, a pitiful attempt to get his attention off of her.

“I can’t. I can only go where I’m told to go. But you should do what we talked about. Look at all of those people without your emotions and the picture will be clearer.”

The burly man gruffed something and pulled on the leash, tugging Callum away from Kylie. Kylie tried to find some courage but was too self-conscious to do anything. Donna picked up on this and kneeled next to Kylie.

“Are we having some trouble, Kylie?” The question was rhetorical and they both knew it. “Are you afraid that everyone will see your wet diaper?” Kylie nodded, her body shaking from fear and the trembles. She shook more as she wet herself again, clenching her legs together as much as she could and trying to cover herself with her hands.

“Do you want to know a secret? If you look close enough, almost everyone you can see is wearing diapers. The only big people here are the ones with a badge like mine.” Donna produced the badge again, hidden somewhere in Donna’s bra. Kylie looked at it, noticing the distinctive symbol that marked nearly everything she could see around her. She looked back at the crowd of people, analyzing them with her adult mind instead of her babyish tears. She wiped her eyes and focused. Donna was right. Of the thirty or so people spread around the room, there was maybe a third of them with badges similar to Donna’s. She ignored them and looked at the rest. She had spent so much time of her adult life looking at a person’s face, as all respectable people made eye contact, that she didn’t notice their attire. Everyone without a rectangular badge wore a different badge. A padded badge.

Twenty plus people, grown adults every one of them, stood or sat around these tables in diapers as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The closer Kylie looked, the easier it was to see. Those that sat were sitting in high chairs. Those that were standing wore harnesses similar to Callum’s. She recognized a few of the people that were in her group earlier in the day. Her apprehensions and her fears were all based on first sight, clouded by emotion.

“Are you ready to continue, or would you like me to take you back to your crib?” Donna asked, standing up and tucking her badge into her blouse.

Kylie was still awestruck by the sight of so many adult babies that she didn’t answer so Donna took her hand and led her through the crowd. Donna had expected Kylie to be resistant, but the girl just stumbled behind her, following along but consumed by her fascination with the group before them. She straightened up on the other side of the cafeteria and walked normally. There was nothing of interest for her to look at so she waddled along, the second wetting having caused her diaper to swell, pushing her legs apart. She could feel the mushy mass between her legs and how it shifted back and for with each step. It made her feel small and childish but not enough for her to start regressing. She was too on edge to relax or unwind and the tension she held was giving her a headache.

They stopped at an office with a list of names on a plaque to one side and a sign that hung above the door. The sign simply said Transfers. Donna knocked on the door tentatively and waited. Kylie could tell that Donna was on edge, which was strange to witness. The door beeped and they heard a lock click. Donna pulled open the door and led Kylie inside. The office was made up of smaller offices. There was a row of chairs on the right side and a potted plant on the other. They sat down in silence and Donna bounced her leg across her other.

They didn’t wait long. After all, they were the only ones there. A man in a suit, a man whose presence made Donna stiffen at the mere sight of him, stepped out of his office and addressed them.

“Dr. Duncan, are you ready to join me?”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” She stood up sharply and practically dragged Kylie behind her to the man’s office. They sat down opposite the man and Kylie quickly looked around the room. The only thing that struck her of interest was how the walls seemed to be made of something different than every other room she had been in. If she could have touched them, she would have been shocked at how they felt, but Kylie had never seen anything like it.

The nameplate on the desk read Dr. Micheal Theroux and the man ruled the conversation like he ruled the room. He asked Donna several questions and only accepted short, precise answers. He was quick to cut off Donna when she prattled on. The interview, if that’s what it could be called, was over far quicker than it seemed. Within a few minutes, they were sitting there, looking at Kylie. She had spaced out with all of the adult talk, mainly, the exaggerated way that doctors or lawyers talked. Huge words, convoluted statements, and general attempts to sound more important than they needed to be.

“Dr. Duncan, if you would wait in the lobby, I wish to speak to Ms. Gillis alone.”

Donna didn’t say a word, but promptly left the room, leaving a very frightened girl sitting in her soaking wet diaper, in front of a man that seemed to intimidate anyone near him.

“Ms. Gillis, do you know why you are here?”

“No?” Her voice projected a question, a reflection of her confusion at what was going on.

“You are here because Dr. Duncan believes that you are ready to choose your caregiver and begin your integration into the Fresh Start/ First Step program. Would you say that you are ready to make that choice?”

“I-”

“I want you to think very carefully about this choice. It can not be undone and any problems or concerns would have you both brought back in here to clear the air. You, and your care, are my priority and no matter what, I will be on whatever side is best for you.”

“Umm-”

“I warn you against making any rash decisions. This is an important step and to make it in a day, without any other time spent with staff is, in my opinion, problematic. That doesn’t mean that I don’t value your opinion or want to hear it.”

“Do you?”

Dr. Theroux paused and his brow furrowed. He was not a man that was used to being challenged. “I beg your pardon.”

“Do you? Do you really want to hear what I have to say or are you going to keep rudely interrupting me? I can’t answer a question if you won’t let me speak.”

He sat there for a moment, sizing up the small girl. He jotted something down in the file on his desk and leaned back in his chair. He motioned to her and said, “The floor is yours.”

“I don’t know. That’s my answer. I don’t know because I haven’t been told enough about what’s going on and what is going to happen to me. What I can guess is that I would be going somewhere with Donna to start in the program but even that can’t be confirmed. What I do know is that this is all very overwhelming for me, I’m hungry, and I want to be changed. If Donna is the person that is willing to do that for me, then she is the one that I will pick.

“You say that my care is your top priority and I want to believe you, but all of this is too much for me and probably many others like me. I’ve signed all the papers. I want to go through with this treatment and I just want to say that everything would go a lot easier if you all stopped trying to talk over me and just talk to me!”

“Very well.” He said, making another note in the file. “You are here to choose Dr. Donna

Duncan to be your caregiver. She has already expressed interest in taking you on as a client. If you are ready to choose, you would need only to sign this form and you will be released into her care. If you choose not to sign this form, you will be returned to your room and another staff member will be assigned to you to start the process over again. We tell everyone that this choice can’t be undone. That’s a lie and we tell you that lie to make you more compliant in your care. Should a serious enough problem arise that you feel Dr. Duncan’s care is no longer in your best interest, you need only to invoke Clause 13.”

“Clause 13?”

“Put simply, you need to tell Dr. Duncan or anyone at the Institute, I want Clause 13, and you will be brought here to see me.”

“Okay…”

“I urge you to only use this clause in the direst of circumstances. Clause 13 is a serious matter and will not be taken lightly. That said, do you wish to make your choice?”

Kylie sat there and pondered for a moment. Donna had been sincere, at least as far as Kylie could tell and she didn’t want someone who wasn’t.

“Yes. I’m ready to choose.”

“Excellent!” He shuffled some papers around and slid three of them towards her.       “This is the last step before the program begins and we like to have it in triplicate. Go ahead and sign where I’ve put an X while I retrieve Dr. Duncan.”

Kylie scribbled her name on all three sheets as he brought Dr. Duncan back into the room.

“Dr. Duncan, it is my duty to inform you that Ms. Gillis has been made aware of Clause 13. She has also opted to be in your care for her treatment. Should you wish to continue, please sign your name on these forms.”

Donna looked at Kylie, a sweet girl, and clearly smarter than she appeared. She was in dire need of a fresh diaper and even though they hadn’t gotten off on the right foot, Kylie had chosen her. Donna was touched, wary, but touched. Clause 13 was something she didn’t want to think about but if Kylie was willing to give her a chance, then she had to reciprocate the gesture.

She signed her name with flair as she always did. Dr. Theroux stamped all three forms, wished them luck and sent them on their way. Kylie was exhausted from too much excitement and wanted a nap but she was too curious to settle down, there were things she still needed to know.

“Aunt Donna?” “Yes?”

“Can we talk? Like, grown up talk?”

“Of course. Anytime you want, we can talk like grown-ups.”

“Good. Cause I just wanted to know if you are having second thoughts.” “No. Why would you think I would be having second thoughts?”

“Cause that guy was scary.”

Donna smiled. “Yes he was. And he can be much scarier than that.” “I bet. So what happens now?”

“Well, I’m going to take you back to your room, get you changed, and then we will go to my house.”

“Your house? Like, your actual house?”

“Yes. My actual house. You can’t expect me to properly care for my baby here, now can

you?”

“Your baby?”

“Yes, Kylie. You are now my baby and I’m going to take the best care of you!”       “Pwomise?”

Donna stopped and knelt in front of Kylie. “I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, our pinky swear is our bond, and even in the great beyond, you will always be my baby!”

Kylie leaped into Donna’s arms and clung to her tight. She needed someone to care and to mean it. The rapid thudding in Donna’s chest and the swell of emotions that they both felt was a sign. This was meant to be, Donna the Aunty, and Kylie the Baby.

Part Two: The Nursery

Donna and Kylie returned to Kylie’s room. It hadn’t gotten any more comforting to be in, but with Donna to care for her, it was less intimidating. Donna helped Kylie onto the bed and prepared everything required to change her. Donna knew what she needed to do, but also didn’t want to damage the rapport that she had been able to gain. However, she knew that her interactions with Kylie were being scrutinized. Kylie couldn’t know but there were cameras covering every angle of the room and because of them, Donna had to follow the rules.

“Raise your hands to the circles, Kylie.” “Huh? Why?”

“Because I told you to.”

“Don’t you trust me? I won’t get in the way, I pwomise.”

“Now, Kylie. I won’t tell you again.” Donna’s voice went cold and the joy was sucked out of the room. Kylie trembled and raised her wrists to metal discs. Donna pressed the corresponding button and Kylie’s wrists were locked in place. Donna pulled open the tapes on Kylie’s diaper, peeling the wet mush trapped in plastic away from the young girl’s skin. Kylie tried her best to not feel upset. She didn’t like being forced to be helpless.

“Honesty and trust. That is the first pillar of our time together. Honesty comes from truth and obedience. Trust comes from obedience and understanding. That is why both honesty and trust are in the same pillar. I need you to understand that you are entrusting me to know and do what’s best for you. In doing that, you need to do what I say. The more I believe that you are understanding, then the more that I will trust you.” Donna said, pulling the sopping wet diaper from under Kylie. “Lift up.” She grasped Kylie’s panties and as the girl propped her hips up, Donna peeled them off her body. “And the more I trust you and believe that you are following the process and the program, the more freedom I will allow you to have. These aren’t rules that I have just made up, these are guidelines that we all have to follow. I want to trust you, I really do, but trust takes time and commitment.”

She pulled a few wipes out of the package and set about cleaning Kylie’s body. She was coldly efficient, nearly completely insensitive. Kylie wasn’t sure how a proper diaper change should have gone. Her mother always seemed to be holding back, unsure of where and what to clean. Donna, on the other hand, treated her body like a job, thoroughly cleaning each crack and crevice with callous efficiency. She unfolded and rustled a clean diaper before sliding it under Kylie’s bottom. She grabbed a bottle of baby oil and squirted a dollop into her hand before rubbing her hands all over Kylie’s diaper area. She wiped her hands clean with some wipes before she sprinkled baby powder into the seat of Kylie’s diaper and onto Kylie’s private parts.  pulled the diaper up between Kylie’s legs and with expert precision, taped it closed around Kylie’s waist. She slid Kylie’s legs into the center of the bed before lowering the crib bars into place and releasing Kylie’s hands.

“I have a few other things to do and then we will go. It won’t take me long so why don’t you stay here and take a little nap. I’m sure you are tuckered out.”

“Okay, Donna…” Kylie said, a pouty tone in her voice.

She was crestfallen at the detached, irreverent approach to diaper changes. She missed her mom, who, despite having her own reservations of what she was doing, seemed to at least care about Kylie’s care. Donna was restrained and it left Kylie feeling like a burden instead of someone in the care of someone else.

“I’ll be back in a little while and then we will go home. I know that this wasn’t what you were expecting but I can assure you that things will get better. I promise.” She rolled the cart to the door. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart. I’ll be back before you know it.” She said over her shoulder before she disappeared into the hallway and was gone.

Kylie sighed and sat up in her crib. She absentmindedly played with the bars to see if they were as solid as they appeared. They were, and any hope she had of escaping were quickly dashed away. Her clean diaper crinkled audibly to her every movement and even though it had been fluffed, it still felt stiff. Donna, to her credit, was a master at the tapes though. As stiff as it felt, it was comfortably secured around her waist. She poked it out of whimsy and it reminded her of the first diaper her mom had put on her. She wondered how her mom was doing, if she was happy now that she didn’t have to take care of her daughter, and if she liked her new job at the Institute. Kylie had doubts that she had made the right decision. Donna was a hard person to read. In one moment, she seemed to be everything that Kylie was looking for, and in another, she was almost robotic. Kylie was concerned that she would be unable to form any sort of lasting bond with her. At least, any bond that would help her heal. Trapped and unable to really do anything in the crib, Kylie fell back onto the pillow and stared at the bars surrounding her. She tried everything she could to hold back how she felt. Despair crept into her mind and her eyes burned with tears. She turned to her side, away from the door and curled into a ball. She hugged her knees as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Alone. Abandoned. Forgotten. A prisoner. She closed her eyes and tried to wake up from the terrible dream she was living in.

Donna left Kylie’s room feeling apprehensive. She had only behaved the way she did because she knew that she was being watched. She wanted nothing more than to be more caring and nurturing to Kylie but that was one of the first warning signs with any new client. Showing too much care and emotion was a sign that the caregiver was too emotionally involved and would jeopardize the program as the caregiver would be less inclined to follow the program as it had been laid out. She had only felt such a sudden connection once before and it was weird feeling it again. She wasn’t sure why she felt such a pull towards Kylie but she knew she had to be careful.

She left the cart of changing supplies outside the room and headed deeper into the facility through several keycard locked doors. She was behind the scenes of the Institute, places that few on the outside would ever see. No client was allowed in these areas. What she found funny though was that the introductory tour walked right by the main hall to the restricted areas. It was lined on one side with a one way glass. As she walked down the hall, she watched a tour group being led by Anna, Dr. Vale’s personal assistant.

Donna found the hall she was looking for. Each client and caregiver are given a package of various items in order to help in the transition between life at the Institute and life in the caregiver’s care. Donna had most of the items at home already, but there were a few things that she had to take, no matter what. As part of the transition, each client had to be taken to the caregiver's home in locking mittens, a harness, a pacifier gag, and a collar. The collar was the main ticket and a point of contention between management and the caregivers.

Designed by Frank and Darla Summers, the collar was part fashion accessory, part restraint, and part shock collar. Its purpose was to record and memorize the wearer’s voice patterns and pick out selected words, usually curse words, that was inappropriate. Once a database was built, it would pick up on the patterns of the forbidden words and deliver a deterrent shock each time they were said. The contention was that the collar could be programmed to cut out all normal speech altogether, leaving the client to babble nonsensically. While it helped with the regression, it was deemed to be too cruel and unfit for any real use within the program. Such a feature was limited by the Institute but the rumors were that the collar had found great success in other programs the Institute offered. The potential was there but for the Fresh Start/ First Step, it was going too far.

Donna ran into a colleague of hers, and not the one she was looking to see. Mark had mentioned that he would be by to check out the group. He was a part of the second half of the program and he got to select who he allowed into his part of the program. Donna was sure that her Kylie was a shoe in to her program but as he often took in up to four clients, she was sure to see him. Instead, she ran into Penny Carver, a voracious woman in her mid thirties. Penny and Donna had attended a lot of the same classes, funded by the Institute, to get their certifications to be caregivers. Where they differed was in care. Donna, while strict in her own right, was more nurturing and caring in her care, where Penny was known as a hard ass. She had garnered a reputation of taking on the worst of the worst and getting them through the program. Her success was mired by her methods and some referred to her as the Dommy Mommy, a nickname created out of Penny’s reputation for being more dominatrix than a caregiver. She had never gotten any complaints, not had anyone in her care claimed Clause 13, but she was ostracised by the greater collective of caregivers. Donna was neutral in the discussion. She was friends with Penny and they often had play dates with their clients. Donna wasn’t one to care much about another caregiver’s methods, as long as the client was safe and whenever Donna was around one of Penny’s clients, she hadn’t seen any reason to be concerned.

“Donna? Hi! I didn’t recognize you for a moment! I love what you did with your hair!”

“Penny! It’s great to see you!” They embraced in the awkward way women do, leaning forward so that their breasts didn’t touch. Donna knew that Penny was bisexual but had never that Penny would ever cross the friendship line.

“This old mop only has a few good styles to it. I was glad to find one that stuck.”

“It looks good on you. Real good. How’s your new little?” Little was the term caregivers used for their clients.

“She seems good. I’m excited to get started with her.”

“I heard that she was fast-tracked through the system. Orders from upstairs. That true?”

"Can’t say. She was quick to accept her room if that is any indication. What about you?”

“Oh, I’ve got myself a little firecracker. Very uptight, very vocal. It may be a few days before I get to take them home. If it’s true, it’s someone you’ve run into before.”

“I’ve run into a lot of people in my day.”

“Ever put one over your knee at the boss’ ball?”

“Ahh.” Donna said, remembering the week before. “I wondered what was to become of her. Moira was most displeased.”

“Turns out her father was sick of her shit and forced her into the program. He’s one of our benefactors and word is he has a lot of pull and asked for me directly.”

“Really? How come?”

“His words: She needs to learn respect for authority.”

Donna chuckled. “Well, if anyone can teach respect, it would be you. Well, respect, or fear, depends on who you ask.”

“Both work. Sometimes you need one to get to the other.” Penny said with a laugh,       “But no matter how much they fight, they all give in. They always give in. Sure, I could have the softer touch that most others have, but I prefer the direct approach. The hands on, in your face approach. Nothing makes my job worth it more than seeing their eyes as they finally give in.”

“There is more to this job than the submission.”

“Very true. And a lot is the journey to get to that point. Each one is different and the thrill of finding the right tactics to get them to the tipping point.”

“Do you have a plan for this one?”

“Not yet. But I have my ideas. The first few weeks are always the most uneasy. Gotta find the right angle to push and getting them to accept the start of the program is always a hurdle. How about you?”

“Mine’s diapered and ready to come home with me but she’s had some time already to get used to the idea.”

“Lucky you. Mine has no idea about what the program is so I’m going to have a fight on my hands the entire time.”

“Isn’t that what you live for?”

“Ha! You know me too well!” They had reached the end of the hall and headed down towards Requisitions, where any and all supplies were held.

Kyle, the soft spoken boy at the desk asked for their credentials. Penny sneered at him, making the boy squeamish. He was an owned entity, as they were referred to. Collared, caged, and diapered, he was the property of Eric Miller, chief requisitions officer. There was a story there, perhaps for another time, but in short, Kyle was courteous as he could be to people labeled his superiors. Eric’s office was simple and he sat behind his desk, typing away at his computer. He barely acknowledged Donna and Penny as they entered the room. As one of the fastest typists that Donna had seen, his fingers moved in a flurry across the keyboard.

“A little early for you, isn’t it Dr. Duncan?”

“I have already talked to Mike. The paperwork has been signed and filed.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yes. It’s early, but we all know how great jump starts can lead to a long term of attrition.”

“Indeed. Ms. Carver, I see you are up to your old tricks.” He must have been looking at Penny’s requisition order. “Get yourself another difficult one?”

“Do I get any other kind?” Penny retorted jokingly.

“It seems not. It will take me a minute or two to get these things together.” He pressed a button on his desk. “Boy! Bring me a Care Package.”

Kyle appeared behind them and headed through the side door of Eric’s office.

Everything had to go through Eric and he had taken his job almost literally. Penny and Donna could see that Kyle was messy as he walked by, his dirty diaper on full display. If the sight wasn’t enough, the smell was.

“I see that I need to send the boy to be taken care of.” He looked through his calendar while they waited. “Perhaps not. I have no other engagements for an hour. He’s due for another public display.”

Kyle returned and carefully handed Donna a box. Inside were all the things Donna would need to take Kylie home. Donna was feeling as if she had wasted more than enough time with her colleagues and was eager to get back to Kylie. She hadn’t been gone for more than thirty minutes but she didn’t want Kylie to feel as if she had been abandoned. She bade farewell to Penny and Eric before quickly walking back to Kylie’s room. Donna had almost made it when she was stopped in her tracks by the last person she had expected to see. “Professor Vale! I didn’t expect to run into you!”

“Dr. Duncan. It is a pleasure as always. May I ask where you are headed off to in such a hurry?”

“I’ve just picked up my Care Package and was headed back to my client.”

“Ahh, yes, the Gillis girl. How is everything progressing with her?”

“So far, so good. I have diapered her and changed her so far today. I took her to see Mike and she has agreed to have me as her caregiver.”

“That’s excellent news. Have you been in contact with her mother?”

“No. I wasn’t aware that I should be.”

“You aren’t. At least, not yet. I’m taking a personal interest in this one and want to see weekly progress reports.”

“Very well. Is something the matter with my level of care?”

“Goodness, no! The debacle at the debutante ball is what landed her in your care.       With her mother joining us in the Prospectives division, I want to make sure that her daughter is getting the best care we can offer. Your abilities and track record are not in question, Donna. I just hope that you both can gain from this arrangement.”

“Both, Ma’am?”

“Yes. Both. I am not blind to the struggles of my people, or the heartache. You have done well to not let it affect your work but we are a company that is invested in more than our clients. We care for our staff as well and I think this young girl is just what you need.”

“With all due respect, Ma’am, I am fine.”

“I’m sure you are. You remind me of me when I was a younger gal. Strong and resilient but guarded. Now, I won’t tell you how to do your job. I just want you to be aware that everyone of our clients that you help, is one more that helps you.”

Moira spun on her heel and walked away. She had said her piece and wasn’t one to let the conversation drag on into discomfort. Donna continued on her way back to Kylie’s room, mulling over what Moira had said. She wasn’t ready to face what had been alluded to. A young girl was in need of her care and Donna focused all her energies on making that her only reality.

Kylie was, as expected, still in her crib. She was still dry from appearances and was softly snoring, her thumb hanging from her lips. She looked almost angelic. Donna raised the bars on the crib and set about organizing the contents of the Care Package.

The rustling woke Kylie and she turned over to see Donna and the various items she was spreading around. Her apprehension and anxiety shot through the roof almost immediately. She recognized most of the items as things she saw on other clients in the cafe and she knew that they were meant for her.

“Mo- I mean, Donna, what are those for?” She asked trepidatiously.

“These are for you. For when we leave. I know these all look scary but they are a necessity.”

“Why?” She sat up, tucking her knees under her chin.

Why was it always the dreaded question? There was no real answer that seemed to placate anyone when they heard the answer.

“Well, it’s to make sure that you are ready to accept your place in this dynamic.”

“But I already said that I did. We signed the papers.”

“I know. Saying something is different than following through, though. Trust and honesty.

That’s what these things represent. Trust that I know what’s best for you and honesty in the belief that I wouldn’t do anything to bring you harm.”

“For how long?”

“I beg your pardon.”

“How long do I have to wear this stuff?”

“That depends on you. Your compliance dictates your length of time with these items. But you have been cleared to go home with me, so, if you are ready, we can begin.”

“I...I’m scared...I don’t want to feel like some sort of prisoner. This room, the crib, all of these things, they make me feel like I don’t have any choice in my care.”

“You can walk away. That option is always there.”

“To what end? I’m stuck here and you know it. If I walk away, I don’t get the care I need, but if I want the care, I have to give up all of my freedoms.”

“Not all of your freedoms.”

“Really? What freedoms do I have? You have mittens for my hands, anklets for my legs, a harness, and a pacifier gag! That takes movement and speaking out of the picture, and I’m already in a diaper so I can’t even use the bathroom when I want!” Kylie was trembling worse than she ever had before and within moments, Donna could see the front of her diaper darken. She knew that Kylie was prone to wetting herself when she got upset.

“This is only temporary, I promise.”

“How temporary?!” Kylie protested. “And don’t tell me that it depends on me. I won’t be able to take any of those things off and you know it!”

“And would you if you could?” Donna challenged. “You know well enough what this program involves. How did you think things were going to work?”

"I thought you were going to be compassionate!”

“I am being compassionate! I’m trying to be as caring as I can!”

“This doesn’t look like compassion! It looks like control! You want to control me!”

“That’s what you signed on for.”

“No I didn’t! I signed on to be helped! This isn’t you helping me! This is you taking over my life!”

“Enough! I’m not going to go back and forth with you on this. I’m not arguing with a child. This is the way things will be and the longer you protest, the longer you can expect your freedoms to be taken away!”

“I am not a child! I’m a grown woman!”

Donna’s voice leveled and calmed. She had expected resistance and she was getting it. “You are a grown woman. A grown woman who needs help. I am here to offer you that help. This is the way my help starts. Now, we can either do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Your choice. So what will it be?”

Kylie stared at her defiantly. She clenched her teeth and tightened her stance.

“Hard way it is then.” Donna grabbed Kylie’s wrist and pulled her off the bed. Kylie’s grip on her knees slipped and she stumbled to her feet to prevent from falling on her face. Donna was quick to twist Kylie’s wrist behind her back. She grabbed Kylie’s other arm and did the same. She bent Kylie over the bed and held the device in front of her face. She pressed a button and Kylie felt her wrists snap together as the electromagnets polarized. Donna held Kylie down with one hand, barely exerting any effort. She pulled at the tapes of Kylie’s diaper until it dropped down to Kylie’s feet.

“This will be the first of many spankings you could receive. Or the last. That will be up to you. Doesn’t affect me either way.”

Her hand came down with lashing force. She wasn’t anything like Kylie’s mother. Each swat was as ferocious as the one before and Donna’s hand was like steel. Donna had a blistering pace to her punishments and Kylie was hopping up and down, squirming from side to side, and wailing profusely. When Donna’s arm got tired, she switched stances and was just as vicious with her off hand. Kylie had never been spanked as hard or as long as Donna spanked her and when the beating finally stopped, Kylie could barely stand. Donna pulled her to her feet and pointed to the nearest corner with a snap of her fingers. Kylie sobbed as she gingerly walked where she had been instructed. Her bottom was afire with burning agony and each step made it worse. Donna followed behind her and when Kylie stopped, Donna made sure to push her closer.

“Nose touching the wall until I say otherwise or you will be across my knee. I will not tolerate insubordination and you will learn your place, little girl, one way or the other.”

Donna returned to the bed and unpacked the rest of the items she would need. She took the anklets and mittens over to Kylie and put them on her as Kylie sniffled and sobbed. She let Kylie stand with her nose pressed into the corner for ten minutes before she figured that they better get a move on.

“Come here Kylie.” She said, her tone cold. There was no compassion to be had at the moment and Kylie trembled at the sound of her voice. Kylie hung her head as she returned to the bed where a diaper lay, fluffed and ready to go, along with the harness, the gag, and a collar.

“I am very disappointed in you, little girl. I thought we were going to start off better than this. But I understand that this is a strenuous time for you so I’m willing to let this be the last time I have to punish you. Crawl up on the bed so I put a fresh diaper on you.”

Kylie obliged when Donna freed her hands and she lay there with no complaint. Donna got a fresh diaper taped on her and sat her up, threading her arms through the harness that she snapped closed behind Kylie’s back. The collar fastened shut with barely a noise and Donna reached for the pacifier gag. Kylie’s eyes watered and her bottom lip quivered as Donna brought it to her mouth.

“I’m s-sorry for being a bad girl.”

“Shh. It’s okay, Kylie. I’m not mad at you. I only did what I did because I care.” Donna pressed the rubber nipple to Kylie’s lips and it slid between them with ease. “When I get you home, I will run you a bubble bath before you go down for a nap. Won’t that be nice?”

Kylie nodded as Donna fastened the gag around Kylie’s head.

“There. That’s all I have for you right now. Let me get everything together and we can go home.” She hastily packed everything into the Care Package box and tucked it under her arm. With her free hand, she held the leash attached to Kylie’s harness and walked her to the door. A few swipes of the key card and some quiet, twisting hallways later and Donna led Kylie out into the afternoon sun. It was near blinding from being trapped in that dark room all morning. Donna didn’t hesitate to lead Kylie over to her van.

It was an older style American van, built for soccer moms with massive families. It could seat seven comfortably, got substandard gas mileage, and was showing its age. It was a far cry from the sports car that Donna normally drove, but for her needs, and specifically, for her clients, it was a good “family” vehicle. Donna unlocked it and opened the side door to reveal a car seat, made for adults, secured in one of the passenger seats. Donna helped Kylie into it, even as she looked mortified by the sight of it, and was quickly fastening the five point harness together. She checked Kylie’s diaper before pulling the belt between Kylie’s legs and fastening it to the rest of the safety belt. She slid the box she had down father into the van before pulling the side door closed. She got in the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirror to be able to see Kylie.

She was pouting, noticeably distressed but there wasn’t anything Donna could do about it yet. She had her hand forced while in the Institute and had to play her role. At home, in a more controlled environment, she would be able to better accommodate Kylie’s need for compassion. She kept her eye on Kylie while she drove, glancing at her through the mirror as she rove out of town. Kylie looked out of the passenger window, erratically sucking on the pacifier. Donna would make sure that the gag was packed away unless it was truly needed. She didn’t want Kylie to associate a pacifier with being gagged. Gagging was a punishment, and not one that Donna cared for. Treating a pacifier like a mute button was fine, but using it as a punishment when it is meant to be a soothing device was something else.

The same would be said for the harness. It was unnecessary and in public, caused too much attention to the client than was needed. Little, Donna told herself, Kylie is a little. Stop referring to her as a client, it’s impersonal! Harnesses drew immediate attention and ridicule which was too disruptive to the program’s purpose. Donna’s goal was to regress Kylie to a baby-like state in order to help her deal with the trauma that manifested in her overactive bladder. This process didn’t need to be put on full display for everyone to see. There would be times when Kylie would be taken out into public settings, staged at first, but with gradual integration into normal, everyday gatherings of people. Kylie needed to know that she could be around people as a baby and that her being a baby wasn’t a bad thing.

She was far from that goal, as that was late in the program, near the final step, Acceptance. For now, Kylie was entering step three, Routine, where she would learn her place, her expectations as a little, and how her life would be managed from here on out. The first hurdle and one of the hardest was the full use of her diapers. For many littles, wetting themselves was not too terrible of an event and would even become second nature the longer they wore diapers. Messing was a whole mountain in and of itself. Messing was a psychological as well as a physical hurdle. From the time they were potty trained as toddlers, messing was the biggest challenge to overcome. A vast majority of people had an aversion to the idea of soiling themselves, understandably so, but for the program and the routine to work, that control, that hurdle, had to be overcome. Donna would monitor how Kylie behaved when she had to mess and if she fought it for too long, Donna would intervene with an enema. Most littles hated the thought of enemas but their efficacy could not be challenged. Sure, there were suppositories or castor oil, but the psychological aspect of being subjected to an enema and still having to mess oneself had a longer lasting effect. Plus, it was more healthy. Kylie had a laundry list of struggles to go through, some more daunting than others, but primarily, she needed to learn her place. Most importantly, she needed to want to be in her place.

Donna drove on, returning her focus to the road. She lived in a gated community on the outskirts of town, at the far edge of the suburbs. It was a growing place, but a quiet and secluded one. She never mingled much with her neighbors and everyone kept to themselves. Her community housed a few other employees of the Institute, namely Penny Carver, so arranging playdates or public outings was a breeze.

The gatekeeper, Lloyd, was a friendly, elderly black chap. He and his wife lived in the community, supported by the other residents. He watched the gate and did some yard work, his wife, Henrietta, offered her cleaning services to whoever was interested. They got by thanks to their more wealthy neighbors and were a cherished part of the community. Moreover, they were able to stay because of their tight lips, saying absolutely nothing about the comings and goings of the community.

“Well hello there, Ms. Duncan. It’s nice to see you home early on such a fine day!” LLoyd said, tipping his cap. He greeted everyone the same, respectful and polite.

“It’s wonderful to see you today, Lloyd! How’s the missus doing?”

“Oh, you know her, feisty as ever. I’ve been meaning to give your shrubs a trimming, thought I might swing by this weekend.”

“That would be fantastic. They are getting out of hand it seems. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t even had time to weed my flower beds.”

“I reckon I could get them weeded for you if the weather holds out.”

“I would appreciate that. I’m afraid I’m going to be busy this weekend.”

Lloyd glanced into the backseat at Kylie who was trying to shrink into oblivion. He smiled and waved at her but didn’t say anything. Other people’s business was none of his.

“I’ll be by for those shrubs and flower beds tomorrow morning. You have yourself a wonderful night Ms. Donna.”

“I will do that, and tell Henrietta that I may have some laundry and we need to settle our monthly tab.”

“I will. She was talking about making some pies for the neighborhood. Pumpkin is your favorite, am I right?”

“You know me too well. Take care of yourself, Lloyd, and I will see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Ma’am.”

Donna continued into the community, taking a left turn down Strawberry Lane. All of the roads were named after fruit. Fitting, as the complex was named Peachtree Gated Community. Donna pulled into the drive of her house, a two story, Colonial. The single car garage had her sports car in it so she would be parking the van outside. Kylie looked around frantically, trying to make sure that no one would see her as she was dressed. There was no one around and after a quick scan of the nearby windows, there was no one watching Donna’s driveway.

“Here we are. Home sweet home.” Donna said, undoing Kylie’s safety harness. “I’m sure that you are eager to get inside so that no one sees you but I can assure you, you aren’t the first person I’ve brought home looking like this. They don’t even pay attention anymore.”

She helped Kylie out of the car seat, noted how sweaty Kylie’s back was, and led her to the front door. Once open, Kylie dashed into the entryway, out of sight of any potentially nosey neighbors. Donna went back to the van to get the box and when she returned, she shut the door. Next to the doorknob was a keypad and after a few button presses, it beeped, and the door locked.

“What a day, huh? Let’s get some of that stuff off you.” Donna undid the harness and the pacifier gag, allowing Kylie to breathe better. She looked around anxiously, trying to take it all in. The floor was tile from the entryway and down the hall. The living room was hardwood, the dining room linoleum. There was hardly any carpet to be seen, save for the staircase leading to the second level.

“What would you like to see first? Your room?” Donna asked, rhetorically. She led Kylie down the hall and to the right was a door with a keypad on it. “That’s the bathroom. It will only open for me. Your room is across the hall.”

Kylie’s room was modest. A full sized bed. A dresser. A trunk that said toys on the side, and a rocking chair. It was simple, unisex decorated, and cozy.

“When it’s time, this is where you will stay.”

“When it’s time?” Kylie asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Yes. For the first little bit, you will be staying in the nursery and when I feel like you have earned it, you will be moved into your room. At that point, you can decorate it however you want.”

“Nursery? I have to stay in a nursery?”

“Yes. That’s where the crib and changing table are. As well as the playpen, bouncer, and swing"

Kylie paled. Bouncer and swing? Playpen and changing table? A crib?!

“Do I hafta?”

“Yes, you do and I don’t want to hear any whining about it. Remember what I said.”       “Trust and honesty?”

“Good girl. Now, let’s go see where you will be staying tonight.”

The nursery was everything Kylie expected it to be. The crib had high rails that locked and the mattress was near the floor. It looked like she could stand up in it and not be able to climb out. The changing table nearby was just as imposing, sitting about waist high with straps and fasteners to connect to her anklets and mittens. To one side, by the window, suspended from the ceiling was the bouncer. Anchored to the reinforced rafters, it was far enough into the room that no one could see it from outside and yet, hung high enough that the occupant would be suspended off the floor. Perhaps the most intimidating part of the decor was the playpen, or rather, the mesh collapsible wall that cut a third of the room off from everything else. From corner to corner, it was the size of a small bedroom in and of itself. Within, was a myriad of stuffed animals, children’s toys, pillows, bean bag chairs, and blankets. The wall went from floor to ceiling and had a rigid metal pole that followed the tracks in both floor and ceiling. Kylie recognized the setup, it was secured by the same electromagnets as the institute broadly displayed.

“What do you think?” Donna asked as Kylie looked around. She could tell that Kylie was nervous about spending too much time in the room, but it couldn’t be helped. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Is that all? And I need you to be as honest as you can be.” “I...I’m scared…”

“Okay. About what?”

Kylie looked at everything in the room again. She couldn’t find anyone thing that frightened her but she did have a knot in her stomach. And then she saw them, two items that, put together, set her on edge. One was nothing really that awful. It was just a high chair made for adults. Nevermind the wrist and leg restraints, that wasn’t really that off putting. What was, was what hung behind it on the wall. A list titled, Mommy’s Rules. It was a checklist and it hammered home just how far into the rabbit hole Kylie had fallen.

Mommy’s Rules (Seven rules of Heaven)

1. Mommy knows best.

2. Baby wears whatever Mommy decides.

3. Baby eats what Mommy decides.

4. Babies are not allowed to touch or remove their diapers.

5. Naptime, bedtime, and playtime are all decided by Mommy.

6. No back talk, bad words, or rude gestures.

7. Misbehavior will be dealt with accordingly, time, duration, extent, etc.

All in all, the rules weren’t that bad. A pretty standard affair, but they were a stark reminder of just how much freedom she had given up to feel better. It was a hard concept to come to grips with and it showed on her face.

“Oh, you mean the rules? They are just a reminder of what is to be expected from you.”

“Go along with everything, it seems like.”

“For the first little bit, yes. That’s as honest as I can be about it. There is a routine here that you have to learn before you can have a say in how things operate.”

“Wait. I can have a say in all of this?”

“Of course. This is your care, after all. When I feel that we have established our roles, then you and I can talk about changing things to make your time with me easier.”

Knowing that she had some semblance of control left in her life made Kylie feel more at ease. “So, what is expected of me to get to that point?”

“Well, there are a few things. Some I won’t tell you because I want you to reach those milestones naturally.”

“So, what can you tell me?”

“For starters, there are a few things that you have to get used to, no matter what. Your day to day schedule, like naps, feeding times, changes, baths, bedtimes, and all that type of stuff plays a part in it. There are important things like understanding that you are to use your diapers for their intended purpose and in no way are you allowed to use a toilet. That one is always a hurdle.”

“You mean that I have to poop in my diapers? All the time?”

“Yes. And if you don’t, I will have to help you to do so. Messing is one of the hardest milestones for babies like yourself to hit, but it’s all a part of the program. But don’t worry, I’m quick to deal with messy diapers for your sake and mine.”

“What about my period?”

“What about it? You are wearing the best maxi pad money can buy. It’s just like anything else. I will change you more and you will get more baths during that time, but nothing changes.”

“Do I have to eat baby food?”

“You will eat whatever I put in front of you. And yes, I will be feeding you, by spoon and by bottle and eventually, by breast.”

“Huh?!”

“I didn’t stutter. It’s one of the milestones.”

“But-”

“Rule number one and two. I know best and you will eat what I give you.”

“I-”

“That’s enough talking for now.” Donna pulled a pacifier out from the closet next to her. It was new in the package and she tore it open before popping it into Kylie’s mouth. Kylie wanted to protest, her head was reeling from being told that she was going to be breastfed, but she didn’t want to risk another spanking. Donna led her over to the highchair and strapped her into it.

“I will be back shortly with your lunch, and then it will be time for a change and a nap. Chicken nuggets sound good to you? With ranch or ketchup?”

Kylie turned her nose up at the thought of ranch and Donna laughed before disappearing downstairs. Kylie hated ranch dressing and everything associated with it. Chicken nuggets, however, sounded great and she eagerly sucked on her pacifier while she waited, her tummy growling at the thought of lunch. She did everything she could to get the notion of Donna’s breasts out of her mind. She didn’t mind dressing like a baby, but in no way, shape, or form was she going to be fed like one. The irony wasn’t lost on her, but she had a room full of other things to occupy her mind.

Downstairs, Donna slid the plate of frozen chicken nuggets into the microwave. She pressed a few buttons and the machine whirred to life. She preferred to bake the chicken, but she needed to get Kylie fed and down for a nap. She didn’t want anyone to know, but she really needed to go pump. She had worked for a long time to be able to produce milk and she wasn’t willing to let it all go to waste. She would mix it into Kylie’s drinks slowly, but at some point, there would be a time when she would be latching on and drinking from the source. Every little had their apprehensions when they were first told about being breastfed. A lot fought their first few times, but after a while, it became second nature to them. It didn’t help that Donna started mixing it in immediately and by the time it got to the point where they were ready to be breastfed, they had already been drinking her milk with very little mixture. She was one of the few caregivers that went to such an extreme and she found that she was able to get deeper, more complete regression this way.

When the microwave beeped that it was done, Donna pulled the plate out and shook the nuggets onto a separate plate, with its own compartments. She poured some applesauce into a partition and squeezed some ketchup into the other. She had already filled a sippy cup with juice and grabbed it as she headed back upstairs. Kylie was excited to see her and practically spit her pacifier out at the sight of food. She saw the sippy cup and hesitated, the thought of breastmilk still fresh in her mind.

“Let’s see, we have some chicken nuggets, some applesauce, and some mixed berry juice. What would you like first?”

“Can I feed myself? Just this once?”

“Well. I don’t know. I shouldn’t let you because you need to get into the routine but I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you feed yourself if you go straight down for a nap, no fussing or backtalk.”

“Deal.”

Donna smiled and undid Kylie’s wrist restraints. She handed her a spoon for the applesauce and stepped back. Kylie dug in, clearly more hungry than she let on while Donna pulled out a fresh diaper and the rest of the changing supplies.

“All done!” Kylie chirped. Her mood had drastically changed with food. Typical for littles.

“Okay. Let me get you out of there. Goodness me, you didn’t get any of it on you! What kind of baby are you?”

“A good one?” Kylie asked sheepishly.

“The best one. Though, you could stand to be a bit more babyish. In time. It will all come in time.” She checked the front of Kylie’s diaper and found it to be wet, but not wet enough. She lowered the bars on the crib and helped Kylie into it. She pushed the pacifier into Kylie’s mouth and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Have a nice nap, baby girl. I’ll come to wake you up in a few hours.”

“Nighty night.” Kylie said, yawning. She was tired, more sleepy from food than from exertion, and she had a lot on her mind. She curled up into a ball as Donna raised the bars on the crib. Donna took one last look at her before retreating downstairs.

Kylie laid in her crib for a while, looking at everything in her new room and working over everything in her mind. I’m a baby. I wear diapers and sleep in a crib. This is my life now. Changes and bathtime and a playpen. What have I gotten myself into? Breastfeeding? Is she really serious? What would it even taste like? And why do I want to find out? It’s gross and wrong. No adult woman should be breastfeeding from another woman. But I’m not an adult woman. Look at yourself, Kylie. You are a baby in a wet diaper being put down for a nap. It’s it the most logical final step?

Kylie didn’t have any answers. What she did know, was that the food she ate would become a problem in a few hours. She wasn’t anywhere near comfortable messing herself on purpose but Donna had made it clear that she was going to have to. As her eyes drooped and sleep overtook her, Kylie had a panging need to hold Quackers. She wished so much to have him near. He made everything better and she could use his support. She sucked slowly on her pacifier as she drifted off to sleep.

Part Three: The Routine

The girl startled herself awake. Her situation hadn’t changed or improved. It was another day in hell. Like the ones that had come before.

"How many days has it been? I can’t remember! I hate him! I hate him so fucking much!"

She tried to move but couldn’t. Her arms, legs, and head were still strapped down. What she could see wasn’t much. The ceiling above her looked the same as it always did. A large rectangle cut into the ceiling, like an outline. The little bit she could turn her head didn’t change her perspective much. She was surrounded by bars. She could barely brush them with her fingers but not enough to grasp them. Hour after hour, day after day, she lay there, secured to the bed, unable to move or do much of anything.

All of her protests, screams, or complaints were met with utter silence. She didn’t know if her voice was heard by anyone and the longer she was stuck as she was, the more foul and vile her words became. It was her nature. Whenever she didn’t get her way, she lashed out like a spoiled, petulant child.

Perhaps the most grueling and humiliating part of her day was that she was never let up to use the bathroom. Or to eat, or to do anything. She wasn’t sure how long she had been stuck in her predicament, but she did know that whomever had her in captivity was going to great lengths to torture her.

She remembered a few things prior to her captivity. She had been at some party with a bunch of stuck up twats. One of those pretentious gatherings where a bunch of women pretend that they matter to the world. She had only gone because her bitch of a mother had whined to her father and he had forced her to go. If it hadn’t been for a few of her friends also forced to go, she would have blown off the whole ordeal. She wished she had. The night had gone on with little issue until she saw an old classmate of hers. A pathetic girl, homely and underdeveloped, Kylie Gillis was not a girl the boys would ever chase after, unlike herself. She had stumbled upon them one day at a diner and couldn’t believe what she had seen through the crack in the bathroom stall door. Kylie’s mother, an arrogant, forceful woman, had brought Kylie into the bathroom and helped her up onto the table where women would change their babies.

In a stroke of vicious luck, she had recorded what transpired on that table on her cell phone. If anything would forever cement her status above Kylie, the video of Kylie’s mother changing her diaper like a baby would. Not that she was at all worried about Kylie’s pitiful attempt at competition to attract the cutest boys, but enemies are made to be crushed into oblivion, not given chances to supplant the queen. She and her friends had cornered Kylie in the bathroom at the ball and she had shown all of them the video she had taken. The humiliation was absolute and Kylie was left crying in a puddle of her own pee. Victory, it had seemed, was assured.

Her so called friends had ratted her out, however. Ungrateful swine. Her mother, in a last ditch effort to save face, confronted her about her actions and in a public show of discipline, had pulled her over her mother’s lap and given her the first real spanking of her life. It hadn’t hurt as much as it had shocked and embarrassed her, especially having her panties pulled down and her butt beaten in front of all of those strangers.

Everything got worse when her mom had gotten tired. The host of the ball had demanded that the punishment continue, much to her dismay, and another woman was quick to take her mother’s place. Her spanking was the worst that she had ever received. There was no sympathy, or restraint, just full on force and she was brutally beaten until she was a blithering, bawling mess.

Her mother had been approached by the host and they talked for some time while she was being spanked, her cries and pleads falling on deaf ears. The spanking didn’t stop until her father came, driving from the office he worked at across town. When she was finally free from the cruelty of that woman, she was immediately taken by the arm by her father and drug from the party.

Her father, a well to do businessman, was a man of principle and integrity. Every action that reflected poorly on him or the family name was dealt with immediately. He had claimed that he was tired of lecturing her, tired of protecting her, and tired of her misbehavior. He forbade any discourse from her. She had spent all of her chances at apologies.

“-from this point forward, young lady, you will do exactly as you are told and behave exactly as a young lady of your upbringing should. There will be no more of this malice and cruelty that you seem to gravitate towards. We are a proud family of good people, and it is time for you to learn your place in this world.”

He was a pompous man, more full of threats and gravitas than actual action and she had gone to bed that night, her ass still sore from the spankings, not thinking much of it. She would just put on her charm, bashing her eyelids, and selling how sorry she was to him in the morning. It had always worked before, no matter how much he had been angry with her. Wrecked cars, bad grades, exceeding her limit on the credit cards, it didn’t matter. She had always gotten her way by wrapping him around her little finger. An only child and a spoiled daddy’s girl, Lucy knew how to manipulate all those around her.

At least, she thought that she did. The next morning, she had woken up like she had so many days after, tied to the bed, unable to free herself. She didn’t know how she had gotten there, just knew that he was somehow responsible and with every breath in her body, she vowed to make her father pay.

A noise, like a click, startled her, and she heard the sound of a confident stride. Heels clicked on the floor and a woman came into her peripheral view. She was older than Lucy, with shoulder length dark hair and round, black framed glasses. She wore a smile that unsettled Lucy.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? It’s good to see that you are finally awake.” Her voice was slightly higher pitched, forced, and full of cruel subtlety.

“Who the fuck are you?! Let me out of here! You can’t do this to me!”

“Oh my, what a mouth you have on you. Tsk. Tsk. That won’t do at all!” She lowered the bars as Lucy kept talking.

“I’m not fucking kidding you dumb skank! Let me out of her right fucking now! I demand to know why mphgg!”

“There, that’s better.” The woman said as she held her hand over Lucy’s mouth.       The young girl tried everything to dislodge the hand but to no avail. “All quiet now. That’s right! Shhh.” She said, pulling something from her pocket. Lucy wasn’t sure what it was. It was an oval shaped thing with what looked like a rounded bulb on the end and four long straps hanging off of it.

“To make sure that we understand what’s happening, let me explain something to you. This-” She jiggled the device in front of Lucy, “Is to make sure that such outbursts never happen again.” She lifted her hand off of Lucy’s mouth and Lucy immediately started screaming. The woman smiled and simply pinched Lucy’s nose closed. The young girl’s face flooded with fear as the woman brought the device close to Lucy’s lips. She clamped her mouth shut just as the rubber bulb hit her lips.

The woman smiled broader as Lucy struggled to keep her mouth closed, quickly running out of air. Lucy parted her lips but kept her teeth clenched shut. The woman just pressed the device slightly and waited, humming to some unheard tune in her head. Lucy struggled, pulling at her bindings, vainly refusing to let the woman win but the more she struggled, the more tired she became and after a few more minutes of whining, she at last unclenched her teeth. The woman was quick to push the bulb into Lucy’s mouth, unpinching her nose, and using her free hand to fasten the straps together. Two went around Lucy’s face, meeting behind her head, and two went up her face, on each side of her nose, partially covering her eyes, and over her head. They fastened to the other two and once tight, the bulb was firmly secured in her mouth. The woman squeezed something on the front of the device a few times and Lucy felt the bulb expand in her mouth. She was utterly horrified at it’s design and purpose that once inflated, made it near impossible for Lucy to breath through her mouth.

“Now that I have your undivided attention and you are quiet, let me finally explain what’s happening here.” She undid the strap that held Lucy’s head to the bed and Lucy was finally able to look around, her peripheral vision completely obstructed by the device on her head. She could see that the woman, who was dressed as a nurse, had brought a cart with her into the room.

“You have been assigned to me, by your father, to be reeducated. He is most displeased with your behavior of late. I can tell by the look in your eyes that you and I are in for a long time together, but rest assured that I have never failed to properly train a disobedient youth. But I’m getting ahead of myself, so let’s start with the basics. What do you know?"

“Well, because you can’t talk and I was being rhetorical, you know that I am in charge and I will control every single little thing that you do from here on out. You will speak when I allow it, you will move when I allow it, and anything else that you may need, want, or desire, will only happen if I allow it. Are we clear?

“Now, I’m not sure if you are aware, but there are a few caveats to keeping a person tied to a bed until they learn to behave, and that is their biological urges.” She reached into the cart and pulled out something that was pink and folded. “Thankfully, I hear that you have a certain affinity for cruelty, which is remarkable, because so do I.” She unfolded the pink thing and Lucy’s eyes widened in horror. It was a diaper. A diaper!!!

She shook her head as furiously as she could and only garnered a chuckle out of the woman.

“What’s the matter? Is this not what you were expecting? Well, I’d hate to burst your little bubble, sweetheart, but this isn’t the first time you’ve worn one of these.”

Lucy looked down and sobbed. Around her waist was the same pink horror that the woman was holding was taped around her waist. From her limited perspective, it looked to be wet as well. She fervently pulled and strained at her restraints in an effort to get free but it was hopeless. It was all hopeless.

“We will see how you do over the next couple of days.”

“Mmph!”

“Oh? You have something to say? More nasty words slipping out of your pretty mouth? Or do you want something? It doesn’t matter. We aren’t there yet. Where we are, judging by the look of your pretty pink diaper, is another night before you get a change.”

Lucy looked at her with utter disbelief.

“There is only one thing you need to learn right now, and it’s pretty simple. I am in charge. That’s it. Simple, right? And if you ever want to get off that bed, you will learn to mind your manners, mind that mouth of yours, and mind me. So, pumpkin, you have yourself a fine rest of the day, and I will see you tomorrow.”

“MMMMMMPPPHHHH!”

Lucy watched her leave, struggling against the restraints. The door clicked shut and Lucy was left alone, frustrated, terrified, and with tears running down her face. She was literally in a hell of her own making.

Kylie was woken up in the late afternoon by Donna checking her diaper. Her mind was still hazy as Donna’s fingers slid inside her diaper through the leg holes. She stirred briefly, trying to push the disrupting fingers away with her mittened hands. Her hands were pushed away and her hips turned, putting Kylie on her tummy. The back of her diaper was pulled back and inspected. With nothing of interest to be found, her bottom was patted.

“It’s time to wake up baby girl. Let’s get you changed into a fresh diaper and you can have a snack. Dinner is in the oven but it will be a little bit before it’s ready.” Donna said, moving over to the changing table.

Kylie groggily sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. As they focused, she was initially shocked to see her hands covered in mittens. Her mind caught up to her reality and she remembered why her hands were covered. She looked around the sunlit room and for a moment, she couldn’t remember how she had gotten there.

“Still sleepy, baby? It’s okay.” Donna moved in front of her and took Kylie by the hand. Kylie was led to the changing table and helped to lay down. She heard the tapes rip open, the comfortable mush pulled back, and the cool air hit her private regions.

“Someone is a tired little girl. That’s fine by me. Maybe we will go downstairs and you can cuddle up on the couch with me. Or maybe you need some play time. So many choices, it’s hard for a baby to make up her mind, huh?”

Kylie twitched as the cold wipe hit her skin and felt horribly self conscious as it moved over her privates. Her legs were lifted up and a new wipe slid between her cheeks. The whole thing was humiliating. Being changed was always going to be humiliating to me, she thought as a dry diaper was slid under her still raised bottom. I’m nineteen years old and I’m getting my wet diaper changed. How else could I feel about it? At least I wasn’t messy. God, I don’t want to have to go through that.

“No messes yet, but you haven’t eaten much today. Do you like baked ziti? That’s what’s in the oven. It’s going to be super yummy!”

Kylie could feel every ounce of forced fakeness that Donna was putting out. She was sprinkling powder into the seat of the diaper and Kylie wanted nothing more than for her to shut up.

“Aww, is someone grumpy? Well, I think someone needs some time in the bouncer to work up an appetite.”

Donna taped the diaper closed and checked the fit. She was a professional diaper changer but still a perfectionist. Content with her work, she helped Kylie to her feet and over to the bouncer, sliding one of Kylie’s legs in at a time. Like Kylie had surmised, it was just high enough with her in it that her tiptoes were the only things touching the ground if she stretched, otherwise, she was suspended there, unable to get out.

“I’ll be back when dinner is done, you have fun now.” She pushed down on the bouncer’s seat and gave Kylie a good bounce. Donna smiled to herself in a cold way and left the room, closing the door behind her. When the springy motion of the bouncer settled, Kylie took inventory of her predicament. She was irritated and frustrated.

Ever since I became a teenager, I have always hated being woken up. It generally puts me in a foul mood and even though it hasn’t even been a day, I’m already sick of being babied. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew when this would be over. With Mom, at least I had a limit. When the diapers were gone, I could be an adult again. With Donna, there is no choice. She’s going to keep me like this for who knows how long. Why can’t they all just be upfront with me? Why do I have to mess myself? Why do I feel so alone? God, I miss Quackers. I miss Erica. And even after all of our problems, I even miss Mom. She didn’t force me to mess myself. She always gave me an option. At least, she did for a while. I could have argued for a chance to use the toilet. She would have let me. But not Donna. I don’t think I can convince her of anything. And she’s so fake! Like she’s hiding something. I can’t believe that she wants to breastfeed me! That’s so gross!

Kylie didn’t realize it but her angry thinking had her bouncing away in front of the window. She used gravity’s momentum with each bounce to push off from the floor with her toes. She hadn’t noticed she was even doing it until her calves got tired.

"What is she doing to me? I was so angry before! And now...I’m kinda enjoying myself. She hasn’t been so bad to me. Yet…."

Kylie’s suspicions that her treatment would go from okay to unpleasant weren’t fully realized until dinner. She was released from the bouncer and led downstairs to the kitchen where another high chair was sitting. She was helped into it and her wrists and ankles were tied down. She noticed a pot on the stove that didn’t seem to have anything in it but she could see the trails from the steam snaking up towards the ceiling. Nearby, on the counter, was a foil pan that Donna was scooping dinner out of. Kylie didn’t want to be spoon fed, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She had very little choices anymore.

“Who’s hungry? Are you a hungry baby? You seemed to really enjoy yourself in the bouncer so I hope that you have worked up an appetite.”

Kylie didn’t say anything. She was still wary of Donna and her motives. She knew that she was in this woman’s house for therapy, but she didn’t understand how any of what had happened to her so far to be anything close to therapy. She did understand that this was just her first day and there was a long road to recovery in front of her but in the moment, having been tied to a high chair with an older woman getting ready to spoon feed her baked ziti, the long road ahead of her seemed not like a road, but an unconquerable mountain.

“Not very talkative after your nap, I see. Is everything okay?” Donna said with concern in her voice.

Kylie shrugged and said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. Or what to do. She felt so small and not in the way that she was used to. Small in a helpless way. She felt like a captive in a strange place, her every action or need decided for her. It was what she had come close to experiencing at home with her mother, but here, with Donna, she didn’t feel anything remotely close to it now. She was scared and alone, intimidated and overwhelmed. She knew that Donna had many means and permissions at her disposal and that Kylie herself had allowed the transfer of power to occur, but no logic made anything she knew help her feel better.

“Kylie?” Donna asked, pulling a chair up to the high chair. She set the bowl on the high chair’s removable table, but didn’t scoop anything out of it.

Kylie whimpered, her emotions rising as her mind raced to accept her situation. It couldn’t and she burst into tears.

“Hey hey, shhh, it’s okay. We don’t have to go so fast if you aren’t ready!”

Donna stood up and undid the restraints that held Kylie’s wrists. The young girl covered her face as she sobbed into her mittens. Donna removed the tray and undid Kylie’s leg restraints. She placed her hands on Kylie’s shoulders and did her best to console the young girl.

“There, there. It’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you are not ready. We will always go at your pace, you just need to tell me what you need.”

Kylie sniffed and sobbed. “I don’t know what I need. I don’t know what is going on anymore! This is all too much!”

“Too much? What’s too much? What can I do?”

“I just...I don’t know! There is so much that I don’t understand. This morning, I woke up a normal girl and now, I’m being forced to act and dress like an infant. What happened to me?”

“Forced? You are not being forced. I don’t do force, not in that way. I am not trying to bend your will to my own.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. Not when you say some of the things that you have said.”

“Such as?”

“What do you mean?”

“What have I said that makes you feel like I’m forcing you?” “You know, there has been some stuff.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know, and we need to talk about these things before we can move forward. So, we can sit here all night until we get this worked out.”

“It’s stuff like that. The way you talk as if I don’t have any say or ability to change your mind. It’s overbearing and hard to deal with. With my mother, there was at least some room for compromise, and I could tell her how I felt and receive some form of compassion. With you, there is none of that. You order and demand but you don’t take into consideration how terrifying all of this is for me. I don’t know why this is the only way I can get better and I don’t understand how any of what you have shown me is supposed to help. All I know is that when I can let go of all of my adult mentalities, I feel better and I can’t do that here. I don’t trust you and I don’t feel as if you care for me. I can’t expect you to on the first day as you can’t expect to have my trust so soon, but these are things that we need to figure out or this isn’t going to work.”

She stood up from the high chair and crossed her arms across her chest. She felt ridiculous and knew she looked as such. She was wearing just a shirt, her wet diaper, and her mittens. The bracelets, collar, and anklets were sullen reminders of how quickly her world had spun out of control.

Donna sat down at the table and took pause. For adults, there would always be a clash of wills. She knew that she was overwhelming Kylie with everything that her world would become and the transition was a shock to nearly everyone that she had cared for. She had hopes that Kylie would be different and Donna wondered if she hadn’t pressed too far or too hard. She could dial some things back, but, there wasn’t much give as of yet.

“For starters, I am sorry that I come off as commanding or authoritarian. As your caregiver, it is my role to come off as such. That doesn’t mean that I can’t be more compassionate, however. You are right, though, you don’t trust me and I have yet to care for you as you require me to. I can’t help that just yet. What I can say is that I am here for you and although there are rules and expectations, that doesn’t mean that we can’t come to a compromise on a few things.”

“You sound so clinical. And I guess that’s what I should expect from something like this.”

“If you are that upset to speak to me so cruelly, then perhaps this is not a good arrangement for either of us.”

“I’m sorry. It didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch. My emotions are running out of control right now.”

“I will accept your apology, but your transgression will not be forgotten. So, what do you wish to change about our arrangement?”

“I don’t want to feel like a prisoner for starters. It makes all of this harder to accept because I can’t relax.”

“Is there a request in that statement?”

“Can I have the restraints off? The collar and bracelets and anklets?”

“Yes. Under one condition. You will have to obey any order I give you. If I tell you to lay still for a change, you will do so or it all goes back on. Any time we have to visit the Institute, you will be required to wear them for that purpose. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Next?”

“I am not okay with breastfeeding.”

“Non-negotiable. It will happen at some point. What I can say is that you don’t have to worry about it for quite some time. I mentioned it because I was trying to gage your response. You are quite far away from having to deal with something like that. Months, if not longer, depending on your progress. Next.”

“Messing…”

“Also non negotiable. Messing is one of the milestones of your care. Think about it this way. Controlling your bladder and bowels is one the first steps in a person’s maturity. It signifies that you are ready to stop being a baby and start your journey to adulthood. I am not expecting you to give up all control of your bodily function. That could take years and in some cases, would be irreversible. Neither of us want that. What I do want, is for you to not have that worry at the back of your mind. Can you remember any time when your focus was pulled away from what you were doing because you needed to use the bathroom? We all have memories of times when we were faced with that kind of emergency or the embarrassment of not making it in time. My goal is to teach you that you don’t need to worry about those memories or that kind of embarrassment. If you need to go, just go, and I will take care of you.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you do and therein lies the crux of your treatment. You have spent so much time trying to take care of yourself that you have shut yourself off to people caring for you. You found peace when your mother put you back into diapers because she took care of you and in doing so, cared for you. You yearn for that in a way that you are not ready to realize and my goal is to get you to that point. You have built up this wall around how you really feel and while you can say that you don’t need someone to care for you, you want nothing more than to have someone genuinely love you.

“Cleaning you, whether it's by changing your diapers or bathing you, will chip away at that wall and help you to truly feel as if someone really cares.”

“But it’s so embarrassing!”

“It is. And it makes you feel vulnerable but that’s where the healing begins. You need to feel vulnerable so that you can peer behind that wall and see the person you are on the other side. I don’t really know how else to explain it. I know that you have messed yourself a few times before coming here and I know that it’s a very difficult thing to get used to, but I want to assure you that there will be no judgement for your body doing what comes naturally.

“You mentioned force and here is one of the concessions that I am willing to make. I will not force you to mess yourself. I was going to, but I won’t. Your body knows how to take care of itself and I can be patient. The deal here is that you don’t try to hold the natural process back. It’s not healthy and will make you sick. If that happens, then I will be forced to intervene and I don’t want to do that.”

“Will you change me immediately?”

“If it is possible, then yes. If we are out and about, then you will have to wait.”

“Really?”

“Yes. A large part of this hurdle is the self awareness a person has about pooping.       They have been groomed to believe that it’s a disgusting, naughty thing and should be taken care of privately and discreetly. That is the mentality that we need to break.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, and you will. It’s about time and mindset. But don’t worry about rushing to that point. This is a process and takes time. Is there anything else?”

“No. Not at the moment.”

“Okay. Well, since we are on the subject, we need to discuss your punishment.”

“My punishment?”

“Yes. I warned you before that I won’t tolerate any type of insubordination and your remarks are unacceptable. I will not be talked to in that manner.”

“I said that I was sorry.”

“You did. And I accepted your apology, but that doesn’t mean that you are off the hook. After dinner, you will be punished for your behavior, am I understood?”

Kylie nodded, feeling a bit numb. She didn’t know what she had accomplished for standing up for herself and it felt like she was being punished for doing so. She didn’t know how or why, but she knew that Donna was a person of her word.

“Okay, then. Hop back up in your high chair so you can have your dinner.” Donna secured Kylie in the chair with the tray but didn’t restrain her legs or wrists. Donna removed Kylie’s mittens and handed her the spoon.

“I will go prepare things for your bath. Eat up.” Donna left the room Kylie could hear her rummaging around in the bathroom, just down the hall. Kylie ate as quickly as she could, finding that she was far more hungry than she thought she was. She was still hungry when Donna returned.

“Can I have more?”

“Of course, baby. I’m glad that you like it.” Donna offered her another helping while she sat at the table to eat herself. Kylie ate like an adult, not very fitting for her station in life, but all things would change. When she was done, Kylie pushed the bowl away, her stomach full of delicious pasta.

“Are you ready for your bath?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Donna helped her out of the high chair and led her to the bathroom. “Now, do you remember what I said about doing what I tell you to?”

“Yes, Donna.”

“Good. I want you to face the wall and put your hands out so that your palms are flat against the wall.”

Kylie was confused, but did what she was told, placing her palms against the wall where Donna pointed. She heard a click and felt the pull of magnetism on her bracelets. Alarmed, she looked around at what Donna was doing. Donna shut the bathroom door and behind it was a metal pole, like a coat hanger, with a wheeled base. Hanging from one of the arms, was a reddish bag with a thing tube running from it.

“What is that?!” She exclaimed.

“This? This is your punishment. And a learning experience. This is an enema bag full of water. I am going to give you this as a punishment for talking to me as you did, as well as teach you what will happen if you choose to not use your diapers as you are expected to, and, finally, to teach you what it’s like to mess yourself.”

“I already said that I was sorry! Please don’t do that to me!”

“Enough, Kylie. I don’t want to hear it. Keep quiet or I will gag you. This is happening whether you want it or not.”

“But...but…”

“Last warning! Shut your mouth, little girl.”

Kylie sobbed as Donna pulled down the back of her diaper. She felt Donna push her legs apart and the squirting sound of a liquid pushed from a tube. Donna’s fingers pushed her cheeks apart and she felt something foreign press into her. She wanted to fight, to claw and fight her way away from such a degrading experience. She had never felt so violated in her life as the foreign object entered her. She groaned as it slid further in. She was unable to determine how long it was but felt infinite in length. It stopped moving and Donna’s hands disappeared.

She watched in horror as her diaper was pulled back up and she could feel the tube press between her cheeks.

She looked over her shoulder as Donna moved the back closer and fiddled with something. Donna looked at her briefly as she played with something plastic that was attached to the tube. She stared at Kylie’s face as the water began to flow. Within moments, Kylie’s face went from fear to surprise and shock as her bowels flooded with water. She moaned as the water kept flowing and no matter how much she clenched her muscles, she couldn’t stop the water from pouring into her body. She was already feeling full from dinner and the water made her feel bloated almost immediately. The water, graciously warm, seemed to flow forever and after an eternity, it finally stopped. Donna pinched the tube closed as the first wave of cramps shook Kylie’s body.

“...Please…” The only word Kylie could utter. She had to go, it had to come out and she needed it to happen now. “Please what?” “Please...can I go?”

“I don’t know. Can you? Can you use your diapers like the good little baby you are? Or do I need to do this to you every day?”

“Every day?”

“Every day. If you choose to fight me on messing yourself, I will administer one of these every day.”

Kylie groaned as another wave of cramps hit her. She needed relief. She needed release.

“I won’t.”

“Won’t what?”

“Won’t fight. Please. I’m begging you. I can’t hold it.”

“So you will use your diapers?”

“Yes. I swear!”

“Everyday?”

“Yes!”

“Like a baby?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what?”

“Yes! I will use my diapers like a baby! Please! Please!”

“Very well.” She reached into the back of Kylie’s diaper and with a quick pull, removed the applicator from Kylie’s bottom and diaper.

With a whimper and a grunt, Kylie’s bottom exploded into her diaper. Her face reddened as she pushed, doing everything she could to get it over as quickly as possible. The noise was humiliating and she buried her face into the crook of her elbow. The water, mixed with her mess, filled the back of her diaper, running down between her legs. Her diaper sagged under all of the water and mess and she slumped against the wall as the last of it squelched out of her.

“Good girl.” Donna said as she cleaned and put everything away.

Between sobs, Kylie managed to get out a request.

“Will you change me now?”

“No.” Donna said. She pressed a spot on the wall and a thin door popped open. It ran from the floor to the ceiling and all Kylie could see was a lever on a track. Donna pushed the lever down and Kylie’s hands slid down the wall to the point where they almost touched the floor, bending Kylie over. Donna pushed on Kylie’s lower back and gently guided the girl to the floor. Her mess smeared around the inside of her diaper as her bottom hit the floor. She sobbed at the torture.

“Your punishment ends in thirty minutes and all will be forgiven. Take this time to reflect on the rules and my expectations of you.” Donna said, her voice level and indifferent. She left Kylie crying on the floor in her own filth.

Back in the kitchen, Donna cleaned up dinner. Humming to herself as she washed the dishes. She tried not to feel sorry for Kylie. Her heart hurt for having had to resort to such measures but it couldn’t be helped. For some littles, they had to experience the worst of their new lives. In that way, they could do everything, by their choice, to avoid such outcomes. She sincerely hoped that one experience would be enough for Kylie.

When the thirty minutes was up, Donna returned to the bathroom. She didn’t say anything as she turned off the magnetism holding Kylie’s hands to the wall. Using a special tool, she removed the collar, bracelets, and anklets from the girl’s body. She would pack those away later but for the moment, she helped Kylie to her feet.

“Baby girl?”

“...yeah…?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t like having to do stuff like that. I don’t think it’s helpful to the healing process. I don’t want to ever have to do something like that again, but I will if I have to. Let’s get you cleaned up and we can talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“Are you upset with me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to leave?”

Kylie paused. She hadn’t looked at Donna since she returned to the bathroom. Tears had dried in streaks down Kylie’s face. Donna’s face reflected the worry and sorrow that she felt. Kylie could see that Donna had not wanted to put her through such an ordeal. There was care and concern in Donna’s eyes and Kylie felt that Donna had those emotions for Kylie, not herself.

Kylie shook her head. She had broken a rule and had been punished for it. Donna’s mannerisms reflected her previous statement. All had been forgiven.

Donna smiled.

“I’m glad. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She started the shower and helped Kylie into it, naked save for her diaper. As the water ran down her body, she watched as Donna ripped the tabs open on the diaper and the overflowing thing hit the tub with a splat. Donna quickly removed it and detached the showerhead from the wall. She aimed the stream around Kylie’s diaper area, removing all remaining traces of Kylie’s punishment. Content that the girl was clean enough, Donna plugged the drain on the tub and poured bubble bath into the clean water. Kylie slowly sank into the warm water, turning the temperature up to get it warmer. Donna smiled as Kylie laid back in the tub, letting the rising, steamy water wash over her.

The tub was much larger than a normal tub and Kylie could comfortably stretch out as she practically floated in the soapy water. Donna set a few products on the edge of the tub and dropped a loofah into the water.

Kylie played with the bubbles while Donna washed her. She tried to block out the more humiliating aspects of it, like spreading her legs or turning over so that her private areas could be cleaned. The hot water did wonders to wash away the tensions in Kylie’s body. She was more relaxed with Donna during her bath than she had been with her mother. It still felt weird, but not as bad as it sounded in her head. Donna’s hands were gentle and soothing. Although there was a hidden strength to them, their power to make her feel comfortable was beyond anything her mother had accomplished.

Clean, Donna let her soak in the water while she went upstairs to gather some fresh diapering supplies and pajamas for Kylie. Her intention was to dress Kylie and let her sleep in her downstairs room instead of the nursery. She felt that a goodwill gesture would help ease the impression of the punishment.

Dried and out of the tub, Kylie stood wrapped in a towel waiting for Donna. She had gotten out by herself, something that was probably wrong, but she wanted to have a chance to show that she was ready to face the routine of her new life. She felt that Donna was going to do some gesture to show that she was remorseful for what she had put Kylie through. When Donna returned with her hands full of diapering supplies, Kylie’s suspicions were correct. She was starting to figure out this woman and although she had stumbled upon a way to manipulate her caregiver, she didn’t want to take advantage of it.

“Donna?” She asked as Donna set things down on the bathroom floor. “Yes, Kylie?”

“Can we not do this here?”

“Do what?”

“I...I want...I want you to dress me in my room.”

“Well, okay. We can go across the hall. I was going to let you sleep there tonight anyway.”

“No. Not there. My real room. Upstairs.”

Donna cocked an eyebrow at Kylie’s statement.

“Okay. Follow me, I guess.” She picked up the things she had brought and led Kylie up to the nursery. She stood at the door and waited for Kylie to walk into the room on her own.

Kylie looked around the room as if she was seeing it for the first time before she dropped her towel and crawled up onto the changing table. “Donna?”

“Yes, Kylie?”

“I’m ready.”

“Ready?”

“Yeah. I’m ready to be your baby. Will you please put me into diapers?”

Donna was apprehensive and caught off guard. She hadn’t expected such a reverse in course from Kylie. It was almost as if being punished had flipped a switch in the young girl.

Donna crossed the room and stood at the foot of the changing table. She unfolded and fluffed the diaper. Before she could say anything, Kylie lifted her hips into the air. Kylie seemed to anticipate Donna’s actions, as if getting put in a diaper was something that was automatic for her.

Within moments, Donna was helping Kylie into her one piece footed pajamas. They were pink with Disney princesses on the front and once Donna had pulled the zipper up from the foot to under Kylie’s chin, the young girl bounded into her crib and flopped down.

“Is someone ready for bed?” “Uh huh!”

“Does someone want a bottle before she goes to sleep?”

“Nuh uh. Want Quackers.”

“Quackers? Crackers? You mean crackers? Are you still hungry?”

“No. Quakers. My stuffed ducky. He’s my bestest friend in the whole big world and I wuv him berry much!”

“I...I don’t have your stuffed duck.”

“We can get him tomorrow. I pwomise to be the bestest baby! I weawwy pwomise!”       “Okay! Okay. I’ll make a call and see if I can get it for you. You just try to settle down and go to sleep.”

“Otay! Nigh nigh Mommy!”

Donna wanted to say something against being called Mommy, but she let it slide. She really wanted Kylie to be able to get on track. Donna’s personal objection to the word and the pain of the memories, weren’t Kylie’s fault. She slid the rails up on the crib and locked them into place. Kylie curled up into a ball before tossing and turning from side to side, restless.

“I’ll bring you a bottle of warm milk. Be right back, sweety.”

It took less than five minutes for Donna to go back to the kitchen and warm up the bottle she had made for Kylie earlier. When she returned to the nursery, Kylie was asleep, snoring softly, a small dribble of drool forming at the edge of her mouth. She looked utterly adorable through the crib walls. So much so that Donna set the bottle down on the stand next to the crib, within Kylie’s reach before retreating out of the room. She shut off the light and slowly closed the door, like a parent would to an infant. It was a stupid habit, but Donna wanted nothing more than to end Kylie’s night on a high note.

Downstairs, Donna sent some messages to Mark. She was forbidden from contacting Kylie’s mother directly, and had to use Mark as an intermediary. Their conversation was brief and when it was done, Donna sat on the couch, her eyes closed, as the machine attached to her chest pumped. While never comparable to a real person, it did its job to relieve the discomfort in her breasts. She daydreamed of the day when she could look down at her baby as they nursed from her.

Someday, she thought, I will leave this life behind and just have a baby of my own. No more clients, but a baby that I can hold forever.

Part Four: Socialization

Lori had barely gotten in the door from her workday when her phone went off. It was a text message from Mark. She glanced at it as she set her purse and keys down and darkened her phone for the moment. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She had just completed one of the longest days she could remember. Her new job at the Institute was far more than she had realized it would be. Placed high on the chair of review personnel for new clients, Lori’s job was to evaluate who was qualified for the Fresh Start program. Many were just people that needed to seek normal, professional therapy. She wasn’t sure where her opinion on others was knowledgeable enough to make such decisions. What she had done with her daughter hardly made her an expert, but after she had read over the contract and spoke to Human Resources, the money she was going to be offered was far more than she had anticipated.

Her first day was paperwork and shadowing Shannon, who did little to explain what metrics the applicants would be measured by. Today, her second day, she was given a stack of applicant files and an office. Shannon told her to go with her gut and mark any applicant as a potential and she would review them at the end of the week. What started as a small stack of maybe a dozen files, turned into hundreds and Lori was quickly overwhelmed by looking through psyche evaluations and other recommendations.

She slipped out of her heels and felt the world raise up three inches. She chastised herself for dressing to the nines for her second day. Most of her coworkers wore more leisurewear and tennis shoes. What dress code may have been mentioned in her copy of the employee handbook, Lori had seen that many weren’t following it. Still, she was raised to always look her best in a professional setting so nothing would change, no matter how bad her feet hurt. She softly walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of red wine and returned to the living room. Sitting in her recliner, she propped her feet up and finally read the entirety of Mark’s message.

His request was simple, but a painful reminder of how quiet her life was. He was asking for Kylie’s stuffed duck, Quackers. She felt a tinge of regret for everything that had happened between her and Kylie and she wondered how her daughter was doing. Kylie had stated that she wanted to apply to the Institute’s regression program as a way to get the most benefit while taking the pressure and responsibility off of her mother. Lori knew that she was barred from seeing Kylie or having any direct communication with her. Parents or friends were viewed as a distraction and could be detrimental to her treatment.

Sipping on her wine, Lori wondered what she should do. She could respond to the text and leave it at that, or she could call Mark and have a conversation with someone other than herself. She had cleaned Kylie’s room after she had left, and Lori found herself already missing her daughter. She had packed away all of the baby stuff that she had gotten for Kylie and left the rest of the room looking as if a normal adult lived in it. Perceptions and imagery. Falsehood and facades. That’s all that Lori had left now. She wasn’t sure if the Institute was a viable solution to Kylie’s issues, but Lori had her reservations that anything that would really change for her.

Her wine glass empty, Lori went back to the kitchen for a refill before working her way to Kylie’s room. Quackers was still where she had left it, between Kylie’s double pillows. Lori recalled how innocent Kylie had looked sleeping in her bed, clutching the stuffed toy. There was a moment when Lori had the epiphany to look past Kylie’s issues and just enjoy being needed. The memory faded and Lori was left with a hollow feeling.

She grabbed the toy and closed Kylie’s room back off. There was nothing there for her anymore. She gulped down the rest of her second glass of wine before she fumbled for her phone. She hastily dialed Mark’s number and did her best to compose herself.

“Hello?”

“Greetings, Mark. It’s Lori. I thought it best to call.”

“Absolutely. Texting is so impersonal. How is the new job going?”

“Fine, I suppose. I’m not sure that I’m making the right calls but I’m doing my best. Shannon oversees anything I do, anyway, so hopefully, I can learn from her.”

“Shannon is great at her job and a wonderful person. She will show you all of her tips and tricks, I’m willing to bet.”

“That’s great to hear. I want to show everyone that I can do this job.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about other people’s perceptions. Moira chose you specifically, and everyone in that branch knows that. They will all do their best to help you out. They want to show nothing but absolute faith in her and her decisions.”

“I don’t want preferential treatment because of this, however.”

“You won’t. Moira is strict but fair. No one gets special treatment from her. Your placement in the company is a direct result of your ability to read into the situation you have in your own home and make the calls that fit in best with our company focus. Sounds like a bunch of PR bullshit, but it’s true. What you did with Kylie was nothing short of remarkable, from our perspective and you have earned your place with us because of it.”

“I don’t see what I did as being that remarkable.”

“You don’t. But we do. Don’t shortchange yourself, Lori. There are very few people that could have pulled off what you did.”

“I just wanted to help her.”

“And that’s the point! All we are here to do is to help individuals like Kylie to become the best of themselves that they can be. Sure, our methods and tactics may not be what the normal public would see as proper, but our results speak for themselves.”

“What results? I don’t mean to sound critical, but I’ve heard about all of these so-called results, but I’ve never met someone who can personally speak to their efficacy.”

“Would that put your mind at ease?”

“Is that possible?”

“It is. There are several people that I can think of whose own experiences would do much to lessen your concern.”

“Who said that I was concerned?”

“Your tone of voice does. You are worried about her and worried that she may have made the wrong decision. A decision that you forced her into and you are feeling guilty about it. It’s normal.”

“I wish that I could see her or talk to her.”

“You know that’s not possible.”

“I know. It’s not easy being helpless in these types of situations. What I can say she is in the best care that she can get. Dr. Duncan is one of the best in the business and I have worked closely with her on several occasions.”

“Duncan? You mean Donna? That woman we met for lunch?”

“The very same.”

“Is she...you know...good?”

“You mean to ask if she’s kind? She is. Donna’s approach comes from care and patience. She’s helped quite a few people and she will be the best thing possible for Kylie. There are other approaches, ones that are best not discussed right now. But I can arrange for you to talk to one of our successes.”

“I think that would be best. Just to help ease my mind.”

“I will make some calls. Meet me at the pharmacy after you get off work tomorrow. And bring the stuffed toy. You would be amazed at how a little piece of home helps the therapy stick.”

“I will do that. Thanks again, Mark.”

“Always here to help, Lori. Goodnight.”

Lori hung up the phone and stared at Quackers. She hoped that he was right and this little piece of home was enough to console Kylie. She hoped that everything she had done would work out well for her daughter. Even more, she hoped that she would be able to have a relationship with her daughter when all of this was over. She remembered what she had said and her ultimatum. She hoped that she hadn’t pushed Kylie too far away. She hoped for a lot of things.

Lucy had lost track of time. It was easy to do these days. She had been moved one night from the room she was tied down in. She didn’t know where she was or how much time had passed. All she knew was an overwhelming sense of fear and dread mixed with despair. Her situation just kept going from worse to terrible. Now, instead of being tied to the bed, she was secured with strange things that she couldn’t identify. She was blindfolded, still gagged, and her hands were covered. There was something around each of her knees, folding them at a ninety degree angle, making her unable to walk. There was also something like a bar tied between her ankles, keeping her legs from fully closing and something wrapped around her neck. It jingled every time she moved around. The final humiliation was that she was still diapered. She could touch it with her covered hands and could hear it crinkle. She didn’t know how often it was changed, but each time she woke up, it was new and dry.

She had little to do with her time, save for flopping around. Whatever room she was in, it offered her more freedom than she had previously, but there were hard, rail like boundaries that kept her from going too far. She hadn’t eaten in days and was weak from hunger. She had cried herself to sleep far too many times to count. She was miserable and she was breaking. Her will, dulled by the hunger, was fading fast. If she could somehow reason with the woman that kept her hostage, she would comply with whatever order she was given, provided she could eat.

A door opened and Lucy heard the menacing click of heels. Her captor had returned.

“Now, now. There you are. I hoped that you would be more settled in by now, but you have proven to be quite a tough nut to crack.” The woman said. She messed around with something before Lucy felt her pull on something. Blinding light burned through Lucy’s eyes as the woman removed the blindfold. Lucy clamped her eyes shut before slowly opening them, adjusting to the harsh light. The woman was on the other side of some bars that ran vertically. She had set a tray of food down on a small table and was daintily sitting down on a table chair.

Lucy looked around the room trying to get a bearing on where she was. Pastel colors covered practically everything and the whole room looked like one of those nurseries that she had seen in her mother’s magazines. The bars ran around a large mattress and it took a moment but Lucy finally realized what she was in. A crib, large enough for several adults.

Outside the bars, there were several pieces of furniture that looked like enlarged versions of items used to care for babies. Changing table, playpen, high chairs, the works. The room looked set up to handle up to four persons at once but there was only Lucy. She took inventory of herself. Her hands were bound with mittens with rings around the wrists so that they could be secured down. Her feet were bound by a spreader bar, something she had seen in one of those horny movies her friends watched. She was indeed diapered, but with what looked like plastic pants covering it and a small lock hovering just under her navel. Her knees were wrapped up in what looked like pink tape. It kept her from stretching her knees out and therefore, she was unable to stand. Kneeling on the soft mattress and well aware that the woman outside the bars held all the chips, Lucy stared down her captor. The woman was wearing an older style homemaker’s dress. Something that Lucy expected to see from the old retro shows that her father watched. Prim and proper, the woman carried herself with an elegant dignity.

“Are we ready to listen? I see that you have taken a moment to realize where you are and what sort of situation you are in. I have also noted that you have spied the food I have brought. It looks quite yummy if I do say so myself. Are you hungry?”

Lucy nodded fervently, inching closer to the bars.

“Good. I’m sure that we can reach an understanding then. Now, before you get it into your head that I’m torturing you, let’s be clear that I’m not. It has been only twenty four hours since you came under my care. That’s not nearly enough time for your health to be at risk or for you to suffer any long term starvation.

“With that said. I want to take this time to offer you a truce. You have clearly seen that I have the upper hand. My concern is that I don’t want our time together to continue this way. It can and it will, should you so choose, but I would prefer the easier approach.

“Therefore, I am willing to offer you a compromise. Food for compliance. You do and behave how I say and you will eat. Simple as that. That’s my compromise. Everything else stays the way it is. Understood?”

Lucy glared at her but the audible growl in her stomach curbed her defiance. She nodded defeatedly.

“I’m glad we have reached an understanding. Now, I will take off the gag, but I’m warning you, any sort of talk like last time and you will be fed through a tube. If you wish to speak, it will be with respect, am I making myself clear?”

The smell of the food hit Lucy’s nostrils and weakened the fight in the young girl. She needed to eat and the rules were simple. She nodded again with tears running down her face. “There, there. There is no reason to cry. I’m not as bad as all of that. I’m sure that you will find that I am quite agreeable once you get to know me.” She rose from her chair and took a few steps to get closer to Lucy. She reached through the bars and slowly undid the clasps that held Lucy’s gag in place. Before releasing the last one, the woman pressed one finger to Lucy’s gagged lips. She looked at Lucy sternly before undoing the last clasp. She kept her gaze as she slowly pulled the rubber bulb from Lucy’s lips.

Every fiber in her being wanted to scream as many vulgarities and insults that she could muster, but Lucy kept quiet, stretching her jaw and moving her tongue around. Her anger and rage were being pushed down the best that she could. She didn’t want to be gagged again, the muscles in her face were sore from being gagged for so long and all she wanted was to eat.

Something, anything more than her own saliva.

“I see that we have reached an understanding.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Penny Carver and for the time you are in my care, I will be your caregiver.”

“In your care? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means that for the duration of your time in the Institute, I am responsible for your Rehabilitation.”

“And my father put you up to this?” “No. Your father requested this.” “Because of that night at the ball?”

“Among other things, yes. He has been most displeased with your behavior and has enrolled you in our program to correct such.”

“All of this...because of Kylie Gillis?”

“No. Not because of Kylie. The incident at the ball was the last straw, but you have been on our radar for a long time now.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“That I’m your prisoner in some sick, fetishistic way.”

“I see your wit has not been dampened. You are not a prisoner. Not in the terms that you are used to. Can you leave this place? No. Can you change how you are presented to the world each day? No. Did you commit some great crime? No. These are the ideals of criminal prisoners. What you are, is something entirely different. You are a prisoner within yourself.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“What that means is that the only way you get out of here is with true reform. The person that you are now, the person that got you into this situation, is no longer acceptable in modern society. That vulgar narcissism will not pass for cute anymore. And I fully understand how you got this way. Young girl, hot body, rich daddy, it’s all easy to put together, but you can’t go through life on your looks or your father’s money. All will fade in time. What you need, is a new outlook on life and the tools and knowledge to obtain your goals without such superficial means.”

“True reform?”

“Yes. You see, I don’t sugar coat things like other caregivers do, so here is the brutal, honest truth. You have been enrolled in the Fresh Start program. What that is is a form of behavior therapy in which a caregiver, me, will use all the tools of my trade to regress you back to an infantile nature so that you can be rehabilitated from the prissy, bitchy brat that you are, into a respectful, caring, and compassionate individual who can function appropriately in modern society.

“I will accomplish this by treating you like the baby you are. Diapers, pacifiers, bottles, you name it, I have it, and I will use it. The adult version of you is no longer acceptable.”

“But I’m not a baby. I’m a twenty year old woman!”

“Physically, yes. Maturity wise, not so much. You must understand that this can go one of two ways. I can restrain you to the point where you are as helpless as an infant, feed you through a tube and change your diapers as needed. In a few months, you will lose all sense of bladder control, in a year, bowel control, and you will be as physically capable as a baby, with muscle degradation setting into the point where you will no longer be able to walk. In essence, a complete and utter baby, totally self reliant on the care of others for your most basic of needs. A physical shell of who you used to be.”

Lucy gulped, her eyes widening at the horrible thought of being reduced to nothing.

“Or, you can make it your prerogative to change yourself. This program is not intended for such cruelty, although it could be used as such. The easy road involves your direct participation. You have to want to get better by truly understanding what needs to happen for long lasting, permanent change.”

“What if I don’t want to change? What if I don’t think that there is anything wrong with me?”

“Then we have nothing further to discuss. Although I think you are just kidding yourself. If you want me to believe that you are happy with the way you are and how your life is turning out, then you best convince yourself of that before trying to convince others. With that being said. I will give you till morning to make your decision.” Penny stood up and headed for the door.

“Wait! What about the food?”

“That? Oh, that was for the good girl that wants a better life, not the spoiled, rich cunt who thinks she’s perfect.”

“I-”

“I don’t deal in sass and attitude. Clearly twenty four hours wasn’t enough for you to do some personal reflection. We will try again tomorrow.” She pulled out a small device and clicked a few buttons just as Lucy’s temper went off. The young girl started screaming as soundproof glass descended from the ceiling, encompassing the crib and cutting off the racket. Penny walked over to an intercom and held a button, speaking into the microphone.

“I also don’t deal with temper tantrums. Cry, scream, carry on, I don’t care. There isn’t a person in this world that can hear you. Do you see the clock over here on the wall? It’s 9 A.M. I will be back this time tomorrow.”

Lucy stopped screaming. There was no point. Penny couldn’t hear her and didn’t care. She ran on her knees as far as she could to the side of the crib, reaching through the bars with her mittened hands, trying in to show her remorse. Penny held down a different button and Lucy’s pleas for clemency filtered through the small speaker. She promised change and promised to do whatever she was told. Penny smiled. They were mostly lies. They always were. But they were also a sign. Lucy didn’t want to fathom the alternative so she was willing to give in to avoid that grim fate.

Penny released the button and silence filled the room. She debated letting Lucy stew in her own juices for a while, to make sure that the girl wouldn't go off on another tirade. She turned to face the enclosed crib. Lucy was leaning against the bars, trying her hardest to continue to plead her case. She would have a long way to go to fully realize her potential, but Lucy had at least learned where her place was. Penny had a lot in store for the girl and was eager to get started. She smiled and raised the glass, Lucy’s pleas finally reaching her ears without being filtered. The device in her hand told her everything that she needed to know. It was an insurance policy, one that others had never fully adopted.

“And now we can begin the journey to the new you! But first, who’s hungry?”

Kylie’s first real morning began with her waking up in her crib. She stretched, splaying her fingers and toes out as the familiar crinkle of her diaper greeted her. She reached for the bottle that Donna had left for her but was saddened to find that it was empty. Oh well. Empty bottle means a full diaper. Such is my life now.

Her diaper was clearly wet and she pawed at it with her mittened hands. She wasn’t wet enough to get a full sag on, but the warm dampness felt good in a way. She couldn’t explain how or why, but it did. Kylie felt content as she rolled around in her crib. The traumatizing events of the night before were still fresh in her mind, but she couldn’t be bothered to worry about it now. As Donna had explained it, messing herself was a hurdle that she had to overcome and she had rightly needed to be punished for her behavior. The bath and change back into baby Kylie was enough to teach her that such things were not indicative of the long term goals. They were moments, nothing more. She wondered what lay ahead of her. What new wonders were yet to be discovered.

She didn’t realize it but she was grinding her hips against her mittened hands, pressing down as hard as she could. She felt twinges and tingles that she had never felt before and when her eyes snapped open, she curled up into a ball, ashamed at what she had been doing. She didn’t know what it meant but something about rubbing her wet diaper against her body had felt good. Amazing even. And she wanted more, so much more, but the door swung open and Donna walked in, a fresh bottle in her hand.

“Good morning, baby!”

“Hi Donna! Looky! My bottle is all gone!”

“All gone? Where did it go?”

Kylie pointed at her belly. “In my tummy!”

“Was it good?”

“Uh huh!”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes pwease!”

Donna handed the full bottle to Kylie and she crammed it into her mouth as Donna lowered the bars to the crib. She did a quick check of Kylie’s diaper and led her to the changing table. She hadn’t expected Kylie to be wetting at night already but she figured that the bottle had something to do with it.

“My my, someone is a wet baby today!”

“I had to potty! I couldn’t hold it.”

“That’s okay, baby, that’s what your diapers are for. Let’s get you changed and then we will go downstairs for breakfast. How does oatmeal sound?”

“Sounds yummy!” Kylie crawled up on the changing table and drank her bottle while       Donna changed her. She was getting less and less embarrassed about being changed each time it happened. She still had a lot of those hesitant emotions, but Donna was kind to her and it was over quickly. Wet diapers were one thing, messy, however was a whole other thing. Donna helped her into a onesie and tickled her inner thighs as she snapped it. Kylie giggled and blushed behind her bottle.

Changed and dressed, Donna held her hand and led her downstairs. Kylie’s other hand kept the bottle in her mouth. The warm milk tasted surprisingly good. A little different from the milk that her mom made for her, but still good. She got up in the high chair and kept her hands up as Donna locked the tray in place, dropping some children’s toys on the hardened plastic. Donna set about making breakfast while Kylie played in her chair.

“So, I wanted to ask you something, Kylie. Something important.”

“Otay.”

“Can you big girl talk for me?”

“If I hafta. What’s on your mind?” She stopped playing and set the bottle down. It was mostly empty.

“What kind of little do you see yourself as?”

“Little?”

“Baby.”

“Oh. I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it. I just kind of go with what feels right.”

“I see. Can I offer my evaluation?”

“Sure. You’re the boss.” Kylie said. Donna spun around from the stove to see a big grin on Kylie’s face.

“You aren’t truly a baby.”

“I could have told you that!”

“No. No. That’s not what I meant. What we have found is that all littles, that is, people like you, have an age range that they operate in. Some go back as far as infants, some don’t. You are the latter. If I had to make a preliminary diagnosis, I would say that you are a toddler, roughly around the age of three or four.”

“Preliminary diagnosis? Sounds so clinical.”

“Well, I am a doctor after all.”

“Yeah, but you are also a mommy. And mommies don’t talk like that to littles.”

“I’m not a… Nevermind. The point is, I want to alter your care around your little age.”

“Okay? What does that mean?”

“Well, not much. Some things will change but not a whole lot. And no, that doesn’t mean that you get to get out of your diapers.”

“Who said I wanted that?” Kylie quipped.

“Huh?” Donna said, confused.

“What? I didn’t say nofing.”

“Uh huh. Keep it up, little girl, and it’ll be nap time for you!”

“No! No naps! Not tired!” Kylie exclaimed, playfully beating on her tray with one of her toys.

“Settle down or it’ll be straight back to bed, little girl.”

“Otay.” Kylie said, calming down. She was testing the limits and although she knew Donna wasn’t serious, she still wanted to mind. She wanted to be a good girl.

“So what changes?”

“Well, for starters, I think that you are capable of feeding yourself. I will decide what you eat, but I won’t feed it to you unless it cuddle time.”

“Cuddle time?”

“Yes. One of the steps to help build a bond between us. It’s a special time where we will sit on the couch or something and I will feed you a bottle or sippy cup and tell you how amazing you are.”

“Amazing?”

“Yes. You are amazing. Anyone who is willing to reinvent themselves like you are doing is amazing.”

“I’m not doing this. You are. You change me.”

“Physically, yes, I change your diapers, but you are the one doing all the changing. I’m just helping. And speaking of help, do you want to help me make a cake for Lloyd and his wife?”

“Absolutely!”

“Good. Now, how do you like your oatmeal?”

“Milt, and, and brown sugar!” She messed up the pronunciation of milk, but, otherwise, her toddler talk was pretty spot on. Donna took the bowl of mushy oats over to the refrigerator and poured a little bit of her mixed milk into it. It was going to be a slow process of weaning Kylie from the store bought milk to her milk, but like others before her, Kylie wouldn’t know the difference until it was too late.

She set the bowl down on Kylie’s tray and handed her a baby spoon. Kylie looked at her incredulously but dug in. Donna took the bottle and refilled it, setting it in a pot of warming water. She watched as Kylie worked her way through the bowl, struggling to get any meaningful amount on her spoon. She would give Kylie a different spoon further down the line but for now, the baby needed to eat as babies do.

Donna wiped off Kylie’s face when she was finished and helped her out of the high chair. She directed Kylie to the living room where she was given another bottle and some toys to play with. Donna cleaned up the kitchen while Kylie played and there was a lull in their lives. About an hour went by before Kylie walked back into the kitchen, bored.

“So…” “Yes?”

“Is this it?”

“Is this what?”

“Is this all that there is to do?” “What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know. I just thought…”

“Thought what? Being a baby isn’t about activities or having lots of fun. Being a baby is about existing at the moment. Not the moment that adults live in, but what’s good and fun for now. To an adult, playing on the floor isn’t fun. For a baby or toddler, it’s the best thing ever. There is still some time before we will make the cake so I suggest that you find some way to occupy your time.”

“That’s what I thought. This is it. This is the routine.” “I’m sorry that it doesn’t meet your expectations.”

“It’s okay. It’s just that when I was with my mom, we went out and did stuff. Shopping. Restaurants. That sort of thing.”

“You aren’t there yet.”

“Yet?”

“Correct. All things in time, Kylie. You haven’t even been here a full twenty four hours and you want more than what’s in front of you. Patience. Get acclimated to the way life is here.”

“How? I mean, what else is there?”

“Well, you can work on our deal we made last night.”

“Messing.”

“Yes.”

“I...I don’t have to go right now.”

Donna turned from the sink and looked Kylie up and down. Her toes were pointed inward and there was a timid, weakened poise to her stance.

“I know. Your battle isn’t out here.” She said, taking Kylie by the hand. “Your battle is up here.”

She motioned to Kylie’s head. “You have to learn to let go of everything. Be the little you are inside.”

“How?”

“I can’t tell you that. You have to figure it out for yourself. Let’s say we try a little bit of cuddle time, see if that helps put you in the right mindset.”

Donna led Kylie back to the living room, scooping up the untouched bottle from the floor.

She sat down on the couch, off to the far right side, and patted the spot next to her.

“Come lay in my arms and I will feed you for a little bit.”

“I...I don’t want to be breastfed.”

Donna smirked. “Just the bottle. I promise. Everything comes in steps.”

Kylie cautiously sat down and allowed herself to be pulled into Donna’s lap. Donna’s large breasts loomed ominously next to her face. Donna pulled Kylie close so that she could be held comfortably.

“See? Isn’t this cozy?” Donna asked. “It’s okay.”

“I know that you are still uneasy about being this close to me but I assure you that we are only going to go as fast as you are comfortable with.”

“Otay.”

Kylie was secluding herself back behind her walls. She was scared and the closer she got to her boundaries, the worse she got. What little control and confidence she had when she woke up was gone. Her trembling was coming back and she could feel her sense of self slipping away.

Donna held the bottle to Kylie’s lips, longing for something more intimate. Time would heal all wounds, both her’s and Kylie’s. Kylie’s blue eyes sparkled as her lips parted, allowing the nipple to pass. She suckled from it slowly, trying to find a place where she could let it all go.

“Everything in time, Kylie, everything in its time.” Donna let the bottle rest between her breasts as she rubbed Kylie’s tummy. It was soothing and Kylie felt herself snuggling closer to the warm bosom of her caregiver.

“Do you know what I think? I think you need a friend. Someone who will go on this journey with you. I made some calls last night. A good friend of mine will be bringing Quackers over later tonight. What do you think about that? A little friend that you can talk to and bond with? Won’t that be nice?”

Kylie nodded, sleepily. Something about belly rubs and warm milk made her super sleepy. She didn’t want to nap, not yet. Donna didn’t want it to happen either. She helped Kylie groggily sit up and rolled her over. She produced a pacifier and slipped it into Kylie’s mouth.

“A little tummy time will be great for you.” She said.

She spread Kylie’s legs a little and checked her diaper.

“Not wet enough yet.”

She put some toys on the couch and turned on a kids program on the tv.

“I will get some things ready to bake a cake, you lay here for a little bit.” She patted Kylie’s diaper and left the room, leaving the bottle within arm’s reach.

Donna returned not long after to find that Kylie had left the couch. The bottle was empty and the toys were left strewn about. The tv was still on but no one was there.

“Kylie?” She called, looking around the room. Kylie wasn’t there to be found. She walked around the house, checking each room. The nursery was empty, the bathroom door was locked, and Donna’s room was locked.

“Kylie?” Donna called again.

“Where are you baby girl?”

Donna went from room to room, checking each corner that she thought that Kylie might have gone into.

“I’m here! I’m in my room!”

Across from the bathroom, Donna found Kylie. The young girl was crouched in a dark corner, behind the bed, crying.

“Baby? What are you doing in here?”

“I…” She said sobbing. She stood up and walked strangely around the bed. Her back was arched and her legs were apart as if something was stuck to her.

“Are you okay? What is it sweetheart?”

“I...I had to go...you know...I had to...I couldn’t help it!” She exclaimed. It took a moment, but the smell finally hit her. Kylie had pooped.

“Oh, sweety! That’s okay! Everything is just fine! Let’s go get you changed!”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

“Shh. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is expected. It’s what is supposed to happen. There is no need to apologize.”

She led Kylie up to the nursery and onto the changing table. Kylie groaned and whined, whimpering as the onesie kept everything tight to her skin. Donna set about cleaning her baby up, not dwelling on the smell or the shame the young girl had. It was not a milestone yet, but it was a start.

Cleaned and smelling much better, she pulled Kylie into a hug, burying the young girl between her breasts. Donna’s skin smelled heavenly and Kylie whimpered the rest of her sobs into her soft, warm flesh.

“This is it, baby girl. This is the routine. You let it all go and use your diapers like a good girl and you are that much closer to healing. I will be here every step of the way.”

“Weawy?”

“Yes, really.”

“Can I have more cuddles?” “Absolutely. Then we make cake.”

“I love cake!”

“I love that you love cake.”

They went back downstairs to the couch and Donna just held her. Sitting side by side, Kylie’s head rested on her chest and Donna’s arm was wrapped around her. It was comforting. The big bad scary that was messing seemed not so bad, or so scary. It was a thing that she needed to do, as all people did, only she could do it wherever, whenever she felt like it. In its own way, that resembled some level of control. She wasn’t forced to do so by someone else, just like being an adult, she could choose when to let it happen. Donna had been there to take care of everything and for the few moments of discomfort that wasn’t all that uncomfortable, Kylie got to have another moment where Donna took care of her.

Her emotions were swirling. She didn’t know what to think about all of it. Her mom had forced her the first time and the second time, she had just been in the right frame of mind to let it happen. She didn’t die from it, no one ridiculed her or made fun. Her mom just cleaned her up, got her into a fresh diaper, and went about her business.

What does this all mean? Can I really be doing this? Messing myself on purpose? Because that’s what I’m supposed to do? It’s still super gross but is Donna right? Is it only gross because I was raised to think it was? Raised to believe that all of that only happens on the toilet? No one makes fun of a baby when they poop. They may comment on the smell and laugh but it’s not at the baby’s expense. And I feel good. It was super weird to go off into a room by myself and I don’t know why I crouched down, but I feel good. My tummy doesn’t hurt, my butt is clean, and here I am, being told I was a good girl. That I was supposed to do that. I like being a good girl. God knows that I didn’t hear it enough from my mother growing up. She always said that I should do better. An A in class isn’t as good as an A+. There was always room for improvement. God I’m messed up. But you know what? Donna doesn’t treat me that way. She treats me like a real person. She even thinks I’m brave for doing this, for making such a drastic change in my life. She’d make a great mother someday. To a real baby. I’m a real baby…

No. I’m a toddler. I can walk around and feed myself. I just have problems making it to the potty. Yeah, problems because the door to the bathroom is fingerprint locked shut. Bet no one else can say that they have that kind of problem. Of course, who can really say that they wear and use diapers? I can. I wouldn’t. I would never tell another living soul about any of this. Life was hard enough when I casually wet the bed. Could anyone, even Leah or Erica understand what I’m going through?

What am I going through? This is supposed to be therapy, right? There is supposed to be some great reflection of my inner self to figure out why I’m so fucked up. When does that start? Do I even want to know what’s caused all of this? Probably my mother. She’s fucked up enough other people that I could just be the next one on the list. But my brother is fine. He’s got his own family and a wife and his life is great so why am I the messed up one? I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. But do I need to? Not right now, I don’t think. Donna seems to have everything planned out for me. Naps, bottles, baths, and changes. That’s it. That’s the routine. Why does it sound so dull and yet, so inviting? Why do I just want to shut my brain off and be in the moment? Why does her brand of milk taste different? Why do I want to just be held by her? Why do I want to cry?

The doorbell rang as Kylie’s eyes watered. She jumped up from the couch and ran up the stairs. There was no way that she was going to let someone see her diaper clearly sticking out of the leg holes of her onesie. She may be okay with being dressed that way, but she was not okay with others seeing it.

Donna knew those trepidations well. Every little went through them. It was so early in the program for Donna to enforce social interaction so she let Kylie go. She went to the front door as the doorbell rang again, unlocked it, and pulled it open.

“Hello there, Henrietta! Do come in! How have you been?”

Kylie had just rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and froze. There was a stranger being invited into the house! She leaned slowly around the corner, keeping the bulk of her body hidden behind the wall, to peer down the stairs. Henrietta was a small black woman, dressed like she was straight out of the ’70s, apron and all. She was carrying something round, a pie, Kylie presumed, and looked as friendly as she sounded.

“Oh, you know me. I’m still kicking around. Thought I’d bring by this here pie for ya. Lloyd said that you were back from your business trip.”

“Oh, yes. Indeed. I just got in yesterday afternoon. It was only a weekend away. Nothing major. Tell Lloyd that he did a fantastic job on the shrubs, the whole front of the house looks great!”

“I will, Ma’am, I will. He does what he can to keep everything going for you folks.” “And we appreciate all that you do. Come into the kitchen, I’ll make us some tea.” “That’s mighty kind of you. I’d like some tea.”

They moved from the entryway into the kitchen and Kylie was left standing at the top of the stairs, unsure of what to do. She was curious about this woman and about Donna’s interactions with others. She slowly crept down the stairs to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“-and I see that Miss Penny is back home too. I thought she would have been home when you were. That pretty young thing is always getting herself into something or other.”

“From what I’ve heard, Penny has a knack for tough nuts to crack. It keeps her busy, for sure.”

“She’s a fighter, no doubt about it. My Aunt Delores was a fighter. The toughest woman you’d ever meet. She didn’t take no lip from no one.”

“Kind of like you, Henrietta?”

“Just like me! What have I been telling you all these years? A man’s gotta treat you like a queen or he ain’t worth it.”

“Well, as you can see, there is no man here treating me like I’m anything.”

“That’s 'cause you are too busy with your work. A single career focused woman isn’t a bad thing, but you’re gonna miss out on your chance for a family if you keep this up.”

“My work is my life. My work needs me.”

“No doubt about that. You’re doing God’s work. Helping folk like you do. How’s the newest one? Lloyd said she was quite the cutie pie.”

“She’s shy. But I think she will turn out just fine.”

“Shy, huh? Well, who can blame them, going through what they go through, poor things. I hope she likes pumpkin pie.”

“What do you say, Kylie? Do you like pumpkin pie?” Donna said, a little louder so her voice would carry into the hall. Kylie had snuck all the way down the stairs and was slowly peeking around the corner. Donna had caught a glimpse of her and outed her presence to Henrietta.

The older woman turned around in her chair to look but Kylie was too scared to come into view. She was shaking in fear but frozen in place. To her right, the stairs and anonymity, to the left, the kitchen and exposure. The trembling got worse as Donna rounded the corner and crouched in front of her.

“Would you like to meet Henrietta?” Donna asked, and followed up with a whisper,       “I won’t force you to, but she’s really nice and knows what I do.”

Kylie tried to turn her head from side to side but was unable. She clenched onto Donna’s arm, waves of anxiety crashing over her. Donna stood and pulled Kylie close, Kylie buried her face into Donna’s body as they walked around the corner and into view. Kylie was shaking so bad that the mere touch of the linoleum floor on her bare feet made her bladder give out and she wet herself in a rushed torrent.

“There, there, Kylie, it’s okay. Henrietta is such a nice lady, you’re simply going to love her! Come on now, say hi.”

Kylie managed to wave her hand slightly in front of her as a gesture of hello and was shocked when a pair of soft hands grabbed it and held it firm. Something was pressed into her hand, something round and hard, but thin and flimsy. She turned her face towards her hands to get a glimpse of it.

Henrietta was smiling, sipping on her tea. She had deposited the universal sign of acceptance into Kylie’s hand. A sucker. A grape, bubbalicious sucker at that. Kylie loved grape.

“What do we say?” Donna asked.

“Fank you.” Kylie muttered.

“A little louder please, Kylie, so that we can understand you.”

“Fank you.” Kylie said, louder this time.

“You are very welcome, Kylie. My name is Henrietta and it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Would you like me to unwrap that for you?”

Unsure of what to do but wanting to be polite, Kylie handed the sucker back and nodded.

Henrietta unwrapped it and handed it back, holding the stick with two fingers. Kylie took it and promptly popped it into her mouth. Like her pacifier, it soothed her emotions and helped her calm down.

“Let’s get you up in your high chair and when you are done with your sucker, you can have some pie.”

Kylie flushed red with embarrassment as Donna pulled away from her and her diaper and onesie could be seen. Henrietta said nothing about it but watched as Kylie got up in the high chair. Donna clicked the tray into place and went back to her conversation.

They talked about all sorts of topics, none of them being Kylie or her condition. It was as if Kylie didn’t exist or wasn’t important to Henrietta. Donna was on point though, delivering a small slice of pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top and a sippy cup of water to Kylie’s tray when the sucker was gone. It was a great change of pace for Kylie to be around adults and not feel self conscious.

Time went by and Kylie lost track of the amount of things they talked about but near the end, as the afternoon sun was starting to fall behind the trees, Henrietta finally stood up.

“Well, these old bones and I have to get on home. I have a roast in the oven and Lloyd likes his dinner on time.”

“Yes. I’m sure I have a little girl that needs a change and dinner to put on myself. Let me get my checkbook.”

“It’s of no matter. We can catch up later.”

“Nonsense. You two do such great work that I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage.” Donna went to grab her purse from the bedroom, leaving Henrietta alone with Kylie.

“That’s a great woman you have taking care of you. She’ll do good by you. She always does.”

“Uhhh, thanks.”

“And don’t you pay no mind. Your secret is safe. Your business is your business. And it appears as if you are setting in quite nicely, unlike that brat that Penny has.”

Donna reappeared with her checkbook in hand, talking to herself about the state of her purse. She set back down at the table and filled out the archaic payment method.

“Was it five hundred this month, Henrietta?”

“I do believe so.”

“Six hundred it is, then. You can’t argue, check is written and signed.” Donna said, tearing the page from the book. She handed it to Henrietta who, for the first time in Kylie’s experience, looked to be on the defensive.

“You are too kind, Ma’am. Far too kind.”

“It’s Donna, Henrietta, you can just call me Donna. And I take care of those that I care about.”

“Bless your sweetheart. I must be going though. Can’t be wandering these mean streets in the dark.”

A joke between them, as the gated community had zero crime. Henrietta was from the boroughs of New York City and had to grow up quickly. Donna was from the upper class segment of Chicago and knew little but the pampered life of the city’s elite. Different worlds made them great friends.

Donna and Henrietta hugged goodbye and Donna led her out the door. The old lady waved goodbye at Kylie who reciprocated the gesture and then she was gone. Donna pulled off the tray and helped Kylie to her feet, leading her upstairs for a change.

Laying on the table and staring at the ceiling, Kylie was full of questions. Mostly about her own fears and concerns, but one that was nagging her.

“Donna?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Does Penny live nearby?”

“Yes. Just down the road in fact. A few streets over.” “Does she work with you?”

“She does.”

“Does she do what you do?”

“Yes. What’s with all the questions?”

“Something Henrietta said. Penny has someone at her house like me. I was just curious as to who.”

“I don’t know, to be quite honest. We don’t talk much to each other at the start. It’s not until our littles are ready for socialization that we get together.”

“Will that happen?"

“Of course. But in time. She always has littles who are difficult to get into the routine so it takes longer. Why are you so interested?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if I knew that I wasn’t so alone in all of this, things would be better.”

“Isolation is one of the many problems this program has. Littles need social development. It helps them grow as littles to be around others that are going through the same things.”

“Yeah…”

“So, what you're telling me, is that you want a friend?”

“...yeah…”

Donna smiled and finished taping up Kylie’s diaper. “I think that’s terrific! And I will reach out to Penny to see how she’s doing with her little.”

“Thanks, mo- I mean, Donna.”

“You’re very welcome, baby, no let’s go make a cake!”

Part Five: Perspective

The end of Lori’s shift had come faster than she had anticipated. Buried in her purse was Quackers, Kylie’s stuffed duck. The afternoon had passed with little fanfare as she perused through applicant after applicant. Most weren’t what she was looking for but a small handful of them were. She marked them for review by Shannon and slid them over to the corner of her desk. The rejects were filed away on the cart just outside her office. Her office was one of many that lined the walls around the large office space that her department was in. Shannon’s office was not too far away, the largest of all of them and the only corner office. It reflected her status within the company and was the envy of all of those looking to move up. In the middle of the office space were the cubicles for the slew of clerks that helped the people with offices. Lori had never had an assistant before and for the most part, had no idea what to do with the young man. He was always quick to respond to her pages and she struggled to find things for him to do. She had intentions of talking to Shannon about not needing his services when he gently knocked on her door frame. She was used to leaving her door open as to not appear shut off or stuck up.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“You have a message, Ma’am.”

“How many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

“A few, Ma’am.”

“And yet you persist.”

“It’s part of the job, Ma’am.”

“I doubt that. What’s the message?”

“Dr. Vale wishes to speak to you in her office, Ma’am.”

“Me? Directly?”

“Correct.”

“When?”

“As soon as you are able, Ma’am.”

“When did she call?”

“A few moments ago, Ma’am.”

“Wonderful. Take these files to Ms. Shannon would you?”

“Of course, Ma’am.”

Lori left him to take care of her busy work and headed for the elevator. She glanced at his cubicle to try to get a glimpse of his name. It had only been a few days, but she hadn’t been bothered enough to learn who he was or anything about him. She was so used to being a solitary worker that having help was too strange and unusual for her.

She used her key card to select the top floor. Moira had an open door policy for the most part, but an employee needed to go up the chain of command before they were allowed to speak directly with her. Only a few people had access to her office without an invitation, though few would dare uninvited. Moira Vale was an imposing woman and was intimidating to practically everyone.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open silently and Lori stepped out into the entry room. Elegantly decorated, there was little to no furniture in the room. One simple chair sat a few feet from an ornate wooden desk. Waiting for her was a young woman who had to be in her mid-thirties. Makeup covered her face, perhaps a little more than Lori would have preferred. The woman looked uncomfortable though Lori couldn’t tell why. The desk protected the woman from any peering beyond the professional level.

“Hello, Mrs. Gillis. Dr. Vale is expecting you.” The woman was courteous and professional, pressing a button on the desk in front of her and Lori watched the double doors near the desk swing open. Lori wanted to thank the woman but thought best of it. Everything seemed too sterile and highly controlled. Lori moved through the doors and they swung shut behind her. Lori walked down the hall, heading in the only direction she could. Adorning the walls were various pictures of what looked like board members or high ranking figures in the company. Each portrait had dates etched into the brass plates at the bottom stating the individual's names and their years of tenure. The last portrait, the one of Moira Vale, held the longest tenure of anyone on the wall. She had been with the company since its inception and remained the primary figurehead.

At the double doors at the end of the hall, Lori found nothing to signal her presence. It seemed odd in such a high tech building to resort to such a basic form of communication such as knocking, but without any doorbell, Lori had little choice. She reached up to rap her knuckles against the high grade wood, but the door swung open and the tall figure of Moira Vale shocked Lori.

“Ahh, Mrs. Gillis, you’re right on time.”

“Oh time? You were expecting me?”

“Of course. I judge all my employees by how quickly they answer my summons. And, I watch.” She pointed to the corner above the doorframe and Lori quickly spotted the dome shape of a camera. She mentally kicked herself for not seeing it as she approached the doors. Moira was a constant surprise to her and she didn’t know if she was ever going to get used to this woman.

“Come on in, let us talk.” Moira said, stepping aside so that Lori could enter. Lori entered the office and took pause at how lavish it was. She had expected the office to be the best looking room in the building, but she was ill-prepared for just how stark of a difference there was between the entryway, hall, and the office.

“How are you adjusting to things around here?” Moira asked, forcing Lori’s attention to the conversation and not the room.

“It’s going well, I guess.”

“You guess? Are you not finding your place here?”

“I am, as far as most things go.”

“I see. And do you plan on explaining things, or are you just going to keep attempting to bullshit me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t care for the small talk. When I ask questions, I want straight answers. Honesty means more to me than your ability to file paperwork. So, I ask you again, how are you adjusting to things here.”

“To be frank, I’m not.”

“An honest answer. Good. Now, why?”

“Because I don’t understand the job that I’m doing. I sit at a desk all day and I look at applicants for your program and somehow, I’m supposed to know who is worthy and who isn’t. I don’t know that I am qualified for this job.”

“What qualifications do you think your job requires?”

“If I knew that, I would know what I need to do to be better at my job.”

“You don’t think that you are good at your job?”

“I can’t really say, nor is it my place to say. Everyone answers to someone.”

“And here you are. What I will say, as far as your job performance, I have little to say. Your job is based on the one thing that no amount of training can imitate.”

“I’m not sure that I understand. Rather, I don’t understand.”

“Instinct. Motherly instinct. I can’t buy that, it’s a learned trait. I can’t expect anyone who works for me to have that level of prerequisite skill but when I do find it, I am more than willing to pay for that experience. This is why you have such a position in this company and so far, I have not been disappointed.”

“Motherly instinct? There are many mothers out there.”

“Quite a few of them and many work here, but not a single person on my payroll last week had done anything like you have.”

“I didn’t do anything that spectacular.”

“On the contrary, you sell yourself short. You recognised that your child was in need of drastic change in her life. Whether you knew what you were doing or not isn’t relevant. What you did was find a way to help someone outside of the typical norms that society would accept. While you weren’t fully on board with the answer that you found, you knew that once you set down that path, you needed to commit to it.”

“You sound a lot like Mark.”

“I should, he got his knowledge from me. That’s not my point. Shannon has been in close contact with me and the work you are doing is near exemplary.”

“I feel like I’m just guessing.”

“Why is that?”

“I would have to say that because I don’t know the entire situation with these applicants.”

“Would that help?” “I’m not sure.”

“I see. While Shannon has overseen your work, I don’t feel that it is necessary anymore. You are ready to stand on your own.”

“After a few days?”

“Yes. I hire successful people, not people that wish to be successful. What I feel you need to do though is search yourself.”

“Search myself?”

“Yes. Do you know why you are feeling so disconnected from your work?”

“I am not sure.”

“You don’t believe in yourself. You can’t see the big picture or the final stretch.”

“I do believe in myself. As an independent woman, I have had no one but myself to rely on.”

“Relying on yourself is not the same as believing in yourself. Far from it. If you believed in yourself, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to rise above your station and be a part of elite society. You knew little to nothing about the group you were trying to infiltrate and fell by accident onto the right path. You could call it providence but I call it blind luck. A strong woman who believes in herself would never need to seek the approval of others.”

“I don’t need to seek the-”

“You do, and you know it. That’s the rub. You know where the path is, you know what you need to do to walk down it, but you can’t. Your daughter is not the only one on a journey, nor is she the only one who needs our help.”

“I don’t-”

“You know what I mean. I’m not here to convince you to join our program, it wouldn’t work for you. What I am saying is that this place offers more than a specific type of help to people. You seek the approval of others, you will find it here. But like all roads, it’s the journey of self discovery that is what’s most important, for you, and for your daughter. In the end, Acceptance is your true goal. What you seek in approval, you need to find within yourself. The opinions of others mean very little. You need to be happy with who you are, where you have come from, and who you want to be. As Kylie discovers herself, so must you, only then, can your paths Reconcile.”

“You sound like a therapist.”

Moira laughed, “Well, it was my first degree! Serious conversations aside, let’s go for a stroll. I have some things that I want to show you.”

Lori glanced at her watch. She needed to meet Mark to hand off Kylie’s stuffed duck.

“I do have other obligations this afternoon.”

“Mark will understand. Come, let me give you a tour.”

Moira led Lori back to the elevator, saying nothing to the desk woman. Moira pulled a key from her pocket and inserted it into a slot in the control panel. She turned it and pressed the first floor button. Lori cocked an eyebrow at the motion but said nothing.

“It’s an override key. Allows me to go where I want without being interrupted. Perks of being the boss.”

The elevator door pinged but the door did not open. Moira turned around and pressed a small section of the detailed wood panel. The section depressed into the wood, something clicked, and the detailed wood split down the middle, revealing a second set of doors to the elevator. The secrecy reminded Lori of the spy movies that her son used to watch and imitate. This world she had fallen into was stranger than she had initially observed. The hall they stepped into was plain and sterile but along one of the walls were panels and panels of glass.

They stopped by one of them and looked through to a group of people that we're collecting. They didn’t seem to notice that they were being watched and Lori guessed that the glass was a one way mirror. From what she could remember from the morning was that there were no reflective mirrors on her way to her office.

“Yes. Before you ask, the answer is yes. I can see by the puzzled expression on your face that you are wondering how the glassworks. It’s one way glass. We can see them but they can’t see us. The trick is a bending of the light. Small projectors along the top of the wall lay a detailed image onto the reflective glass, tuned to make the casual observer think that the wall is just a wall, nothing more.”

“It’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?”

“Not at all. You see, this hall is part of many, where the beginning groundwork is laid for our clients. Many of whom will pass by this glass on a regular basis. The average member of the public doesn’t need to see any of this but at the same time, we want to invite them to put their minds at ease before making a decision to enlist our services. Hence, the tour.” She motioned to the group of people on the other side of the glass. A strikingly beautiful woman appeared from further down the hall and gathered the group together. Her mannerisms were well rehearsed and she seemed to be able to win the group's trust within a few moments. She motioned for them to follow her and Moria nodded. The group, Moira, and Lori followed the woman, a wall of glass separating them. As they walked, Moira recited the words the tour guide was saying.

“This Institute was founded many years ago with the sole purpose of helping those that society couldn’t. We have found that normal means of therapy or rehabilitation don’t work for every individual, so other means had to be found. For over 3500 years, mankind has helped its members through the term “healing through words”.  While successful to a point, it wasn’t until the mid 1900’s that a new approach was found. Behaviorism. Behaviorism looked at therapy as not just a healing of the mind, but with an emphasis on healing behaviors or the actions of others.

“What is a crime but an outcry for attention? Morally, we all know that theft, assault, and other crimes are wrong. We are taught from a young age not to hit, to take, or to hurt others. Somewhere in our lives, we begin to find ways to justify these actions and their moral ambiguity. Is it wrong? What if the means justify the ends? If I steal food to survive or to feed my children, is it truly wrong? Who is to say that the gray area between right and wrong can be easily defined?

“Here at the Institute, we don’t punish crimes or criminal behavior. We look at the individual and the circumstances from which the so-called crime takes place and determine if the individual needs our type of care. Crime is crime. Rape is incorrigible and not something we can help. Murder is reprehensible and needs to be punished.

“With various means and methods, the Institute has successfully helped every single person that has come to us, from people off the streets, to people at the highest levels of government. Our work is one hundred percent effective at finding the source of people’s behavior and curing it.

“I know, it sounds too fantastic to believe, but I can assure you that no matter the person, no matter the behavior, no one that walks through these doors ever leaves the same as they came in. I also know that our reputation needs not the praise of myself or others. You are here because you are at your wits end. Conventional rehabilitation or any of the other 60 plus types of therapy have not been successful. Many of you appear stressed, lacking sleep, and at your emotional limit. I am here to assure you that you can put your faith and trust in us. We have never met a person that we can’t help.

“No, if any of you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them.”

The tour had taken them down many hallways where the group had been shown various rooms with “clients” talking to “therapists”. Moira was quick to point out that it was only a facade.

They were actors, paid to sell the story to the public.

One person, who had not seemed impressed by the rehearsed speech, was quick to raise their hand.

“This sounds all well and good but you can’t actually expect me to believe that you are the end all, be all solution to our problems.”

“Your skepticism is natural-”

“My skepticism is that I have been to so many of these introductions and meetings and it seems like all of you people say the same thing, just spun differently. What makes you think that any of us would actually believe you?”

The woman smiled, as she had been smiling throughout the whole tour.

“Well, I can assure you, with first hand knowledge, that this program works.”

“And what does that mean? First hand knowledge? That you watched someone get so called saved?”

“Watched? No, this is not a spectator’s journey. I am personally one of the success stories you seem to doubt.

“My name is Christina Mills and this place saved my life. I grew up poor to a single mother who did what she could. Living in the inner city of Detroit, I ran the streets, getting into trouble, vandalising, stealing, you name it. I ran with a rough crowd and by fifteen, I was pregnant. I aborted my child because I was too young to be a mother but regretted it every day. I got depressed and started using drugs. It started with marijuana, slowly got heavier, and before I knew it, I was addicted to crack cocaine. So addicted that I dropped out of school, ran away from home, and sold the only thing I had to get my fix. My body. You heard me. I sold my sixteen year old body to men for drugs. But the crack wasn’t enough. The high had worn off. I tried anything and everything that I could get my hands on. Meth, acid, heroin. If it could be gotten, I was determined to get it.

“I can see your disbelief. Looking at me now, you would never know that at eighteen, I let an unknown number of men have their way with me for a shot of heroin. I got pregnant again. Hard to keep track of the birth control you don’t take when you're high. My son was born in a crack house. I tried to be a good mother. I tried to get clean. To say no. To be a parent. But you don’t know the curse that is addiction. And I didn’t know the cost.

“Late one night, when I was nineteen. I was driving home from a friend’s house, my baby boy in the backseat. I had just gotten off working a twelve hour shift and I had picked up a small little pick me up from my friend. I hadn’t taken anything. I was as sober as I could be. But exhaustion and drugs are strange bedfellows. So I pulled over. Smoked some meth. It was just a few hits.

“Two miles down the road I got distracted by my baby waking up and drove right into the side of a police car. The officer wasn’t hurt and neither was my baby but my lifestyle had finally caught up with me.

“The judge didn’t care about my story. Didn’t care about my history. Didn’t care about another black girl addicted to drugs. Didn’t care about anything. He gave me twenty years in prison for intent to distribute meth, attempted violence against a police officer, and the reckless endangerment of my child. He took my baby from me and gave him to someone else.

“On the day of my appeal, the judge overseeing my case wasn’t interested in anything I had to say and I thought that all hope was lost until Dr. Moira Vale stood up in my defence. I had never seen her before in my life and she convinced the judge and panel of sentence review to alter my sentence.

“Instead of twenty years, I had to agree to three years of drug and behavior rehabilitation here, at the Institute. And let me assure you, she saved my life. I got off the drugs. I turned my life around. She gave me my life back. A career. And the means to fight for the custody of my child.

“That was fifteen years ago and I’m proud to say that my son is an all state athlete, salutatorian, and looking to become a physical therapist. We have dinner every night in our home and I thank God every night for what this place has done for me.”

The crowd had been at rapt attention through the story, except the naysayer, who scoffed at the end of her story.

“You honestly expect us to believe all of that?”

To her credit, the woman was completely professional and with a flair for the dramatic. She stuck her thumb in her mouth and with a wet pop, she pulled out the top plate of her dentures. Her gum line had seen severe damage from drug use. She rolled up her sleeves to show the scars from the track marks.

“I survived a life of addiction and although I don’t normally mind talking about my story, the last thing that I need is to be called a liar. For further proof, if that is what you need, please, follow me.”

She led them around the corner to a hall filled with before and after pictures. There were so many that it was awe inspiring. Near the end, with one of the oldest dates was the before and after picture of Christina Mills.

“This place saved my life and the life of my son. I was hopelessly addicted. I had lost or damaged all of my teeth. And now, I’m a healthy, responsible, and highly regarded member of society.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. The wall of faces, each picture worth a thousand words, told a story of an unknown length. The group was silent as they looked over the many, many faces. Each face had a plaque under it that said what they had come to the Institute for Drug addiction was a popular reason, but there were many, many more.

Behind the glass, Lori was astounded. “You’ve really helped all of those people?”

“Of course. Our pedigree is built on our success, not some fictional notion.” Moira said.

“Did you personally help her?”

“I did. She was one of my first. And one of my hardest.”

“How? With the same program that Kylie is in?”

“Not exactly. I was working on the program when I found Christina. Let’s continue on and I’ll tell you the story.”

They walked away from the wall of mirrors and deeper into the complex. Moira led Lori to a staircase. They headed down, their heels clicking on the concrete. The hallways lost their decor and were plain concrete and steel construction. “What’s down here?” “The beginning.

“When we started, we had very little idea of how to apply what we knew to a larger client base. I had been successful in rehabilitating my husband. He was a drunken, abusive man, arrogant and cruel. I had tired of his adultery and poor upbringing and decided to remake him into a man I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be around. Physically weaker than him, I couldn’t do it by force, so I used my wit. I withheld sex and any intimacy that I could from him, pulling away whenever he tried. He loved the chase. The more I didn’t want him or showed interest, the more he tried. Eventually, he gave up on chasing other women, convinced that I was his only true conquest. Yes, he called me a conquest. He was still a pig.

“I weaned him into his new role slowly. I would let him lay on my chest, fully clothed, and slowly I would groom him. I would tell him in those moments that he was my good boy. It took months, but eventually, I wore him down. I told him that I wanted him to be my baby. A role play, as it were. I said that if he was willing to do what I wanted and be a good boy for me, I would let him have some of his mommy.

“At first, I was disgusted at calling myself that. I hated his mother. He did too. She was a vile woman. But in our nights together where I would hold him to my chest, he would tell me how his mother was never there for him. He had grown up neglected and abandoned by his mother, who had always wanted a daughter instead of a son.

“Unaccepted by his mother, he had tried to please her by dressing and behaving like a girl. It had worked for a little while, but he wasn’t willing to fully commit. He was too ashamed of wearing girl’s clothes out in public. She scorned him and refused him any sort of maternal care afterwards. Mind you, he was six at the time.

“His mother passed away when he was in his forties and her passing brought his animosity towards women back out into his daily life. That’s why he cheated on me, that’s why he hit me, and that’s why he drank. He even admitted that he should have done what she wanted just to feel something close to her love.

“Nothing he could say could excuse what he had done but it did explain some things. I asked him one night if he had ever thought about starting over. I asked him if he felt he could find peace if he relives his past. He hadn’t answered at first, but about a week or so later, he told me that believed so. His trauma of being discarded by his mother had affected nearly every facet of his adult life. He didn’t know what it meant or how it could be resolved, but he wouldn’t be able to be the man I deserved with her cursed shadow hanging over him.

“It took him a while to admit it, but the months of grooming I had done had made him better appreciate me. He wanted my attention, my love, and my affection. He understood that I wasn’t his mother but he felt that I was the only way he could reconcile his past and repair his present.

“I asked him how. Specifically, what did he want me to do about it. I wasn’t prepared for his answer. He wanted me to fix him by letting him relive his trauma and choosing a different path.

“She’d always call me her little sissy baby. He would say. I asked him what a sissy was. The baby part was obvious, though I doubt he understood what it had meant at the time. A sissy, he said, was a boy that wanted to be a girl. Back in those days, a sissy was an insult to any boy or man. We didn’t know back then that it was more in reference to gender confusion. I remember the day that I boldly asked him if he wanted to be my sissy baby. Behind the anger and rejection was a glimmer of hope. He had barely nodded his head as an answer. He was too scared to admit it out loud, but he wanted it. I told him that this was his last chance. He would either be a better man, or I would leave him. Either way, this was my last sacrifice to his issues.

“I kept the rules simple. I knew that he couldn’t live his trauma all day long so every night, after work, he would come home and I would make him my sissy baby. He would do everything that I told him to do, wear what I told him to wear, and behave how I told him to behave. In return, he could deal with his issues in his way and decide what kind of person he wanted to be.

“And so our secret life began. Every day he would come home from work, I would have him strip, lay down on the bed, and I would diaper him. Back then, we only had cloth diapers and rubber pants, but they worked. He was banned from the bathroom. If he was going to be a sissy baby, he needed to embrace all aspects of it. He fought me on the idea at first, but once the dresses and bonnets came out, he changed his tune. I had spent most of our marriage buying his clothes so I knew his sizes pretty well.

“His nights were spent playing on the floor with dolls, wetting his diapers and being my little baby girl. He accepted it all, piece by piece and I found him to be changing. He was more attentive to me, respectful and kind. The mindset I had him in made him the best husband he had been in years. So I increased my efforts.

“During the day, I sent him to work in my panties. Old ones that I never wore. He hated it at first but went along. Then I added tights. Then a training bra. Slowly, I was introducing all the feminine things his mother had wanted him to wear. Clothing styles changed in the years since she was a boy and more and more things could be viewed as unisex.

“But one thing remained constant. Each night, when he came home, the diapers went on. It didn’t matter how girly he looked, he remained my baby. He stopped calling me by my name, instead, just calling me Mommy. He stopped fussing at anything that I wanted him to do or wear and stopped drinking.

“I had him as my sissy baby for two years when he finally told me that he was at peace. He had put the animosity towards his mother away, she couldn’t hurt him anymore. He stood before me, the prettiest girl I could make him and thanked me for saving him. He got undressed, putting all of his girl's clothes away and showered. When he emerged from the bathroom, he was a new man, a real man, and he made love to me like he never had before.

“I was skeptical at first, but the change I had seen in him was permanent. I had fixed him by breaking him down to his base elements and letting him rebuild himself with respect for me in mind. He was and remained a new man, a loving husband, and a successful businessman.

With his help, I started the Institute and began recruiting.

“I loved him until the very end. The man I’d made had been everything that I hoped he could be. He passed away from a medical condition four years ago but in that time, he helped me to help all of those faces that you saw on the wall, especially Christina. You may doubt how we help our clients, but your doubts are the same doubts that I had all those years ago. There is no quick fix for a human being. Everything we do takes time. Every hurt we have heals at its own pace. If I can teach you anything, I hope to teach you patience.”

They had reached the end of the hall. There was a single door at the end that they stopped at.

“That was an amazing story. Did your husband ever go back to dressing like a girl?”

“No. He had put that part of himself away. It wasn’t needed anymore. It happens to some people. Some find that their lives are only complete when they can live out their inner desires.”

Moira opened the door and stepped through. Lori was floored, struck silent by what she saw before her. They were standing on a catwalk over a massive room. Giant pillars of concrete held up the building above her and the room stretched on far longer than the building was wide.

Below them were what looked like cages, cubed rooms with clear plastic roofs one after another, running down the length of the room. Like a warehouse, the room held hundreds of these rooms and in each one was a person, laying or tied down in enlarged cribs. Every person she could see was diapered and in some form of infantile clothing. Between the rooms were walkways. Aisles upon aisles where workers were pushing carts. One would be pushing a cart of diapering supplies, another, of bottles.

“Wha- What is this?”

“This? This is one of our fantasy wards. Everyone you see is an adult baby or diaper lover. They come here to live out their desires in a safe and controlled environment. Some just want to spend the weekend, others plan longer stays.”

“These are all voluntary?”

“Absolutely. Every person you see wants to be here. Chooses to be here. Where society would shun them, ridicule them, and demean them, we accept them. In this long and twisted life we live, everyone needs a way to be happy. For these people, this is it. And they are not the only ones. In other places, there are warehouses like this where people can live out their most secretive sexual desires, anything and everything you can think of, as long as it’s legal, we will accommodate. For a fee of course.”

“And people are willing to pay?”

“Do you need any other proof? We do a lot of pro bono work, but the bulk of our income comes from fulfilling people’s desires. Can you say to me, honestly, that all of these people are wrong for giving in to their desires?”

“I...No. I don’t know.”

“You want to judge them from a moral standpoint. Most do. But if personal pleasure is a sin, then we are all doomed to perdition.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing. You don’t need to say anything. All this little tour was intended to do was to show you perspective. The files you look through everyday play a big part in our job. Those that just need to blow off some steam or find a way to unwind generally end up in a place like this. Your job is to find the ones that truly need our help, like Kylie, whose journey is not so black and white. I understand your motherly concern, but as I say to every person who brings a loved one to us and entrusts them to our care, they are in safe hands. Like you, they are a valued member of my family.”

“Your family?”

“I take a personal interest in every person that is granted a caregiver. I require weekly updates on their progress and am in touch with their caregivers almost daily. She will be well cared for and loved.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“No. But I will make you a deal. We will meet once a week and I will share with you what updates I have. Her journey is of great interest to me. But, if my watch is of any indication, you have to meet Mark in a little bit. We should return to your office.”

“I would like that.” Lori said as they headed back upstairs. She was overwhelmed by everything that she had experienced and was barely able to carry on a conversation with Mark. She had passed off Quackers to him and nodded numbly at his promise to get it to Kylie that night. She felt like a tiny minnow in the Pacific Ocean, barely a speck in the infinite expanse.

Somehow, she trusted Moira. Kylie would be safe, and that’s all she cared about for the moment. She would come to grips with the entirety of it all at some point, but in the weeks that followed, she found it hard to get that warehouse out of her mind and stem her curiosity.

Happiness was not something she was on good terms with, true happiness.

Don’t lie to yourself. It’s not the happiness you want. It’s pleasure. You haven’t had any real pleasure in years...

Part Six: Exposure

Kylie Gillis awoke slowly, much like she did every other morning. She stretched as far as her body would allow, her toes splaying out and finding the vertical bars. It used to bother her everytime she felt her crib but it didn’t anymore. She felt around the mattress for Quackers, grabbed him and pulled him close. Three weeks had passed since Mark, the guy that her mom had been talking to when she first put Kylie back into diapers, had stopped by and dropped off Quackers.

The time had gone by so quickly. Like Donna had said, it was all about the routine, and for Kylie, there was nothing but the routine. Every morning she would wake up with a big stretch, find her stuffed duck, and lay there. She was always sent to bed in just her diaper, no longer an embarrassment to her, but an extension of who she was. Diapers were an everyday part of her life, like Quackers, and the more time she spent with Donna, the less she thought about her life before diapers. She hadn’t said it yet, but Donna had become the mother that Kylie had always wanted, caring and consistent. There. Perhaps the biggest indicator of her affection towards Donna was that Donna was always there. Day in and day out, Donna was always there. The notion seemed silly to Kylie at first. However, being there was more than just physical proximity. Where Kylie was in routine, so was Donna.

Every morning, Donna would come into the nursery, chipper and excited, ready to face the day with her baby, and Kylie, by that time, would be awake, ready for a diaper change, and ready to face the day. Kylie’s language and mannerisms were slowly regressing back to a toddler state. She wasn’t going to go back to an infantile state. She could walk and talk, feed herself mostly, and be the carefree little girl that she wanted to be. They would talk a little during the change before they went downstairs for breakfast. Kylie hadn’t really minded the highchair from the start, so she sat in it every day, for every meal. She started breakfast with a bottle of milk, mildly warm, while Donna made her cereal, or oatmeal, or eggs. Donna’s repertoire of culinary delights never seemed to get old.

After breakfast was TV and tummy time. Kylie was given another bottle and sent to the living room to watch cartoons. While Donna had insisted on Sesame Street or other children’s programming aimed at Kylie’s age, she soon relented when such programs wouldn’t keep Kylie’s interest. Reruns of classic Nickelodeon shows like Danny Phantom, Fairly Oddparents, and Spongebob Squarepants would have Kylie laying there for hours and there were times where Donna could hear her sing along to the theme songs.

Flexibility was Donna’s strongest characteristic. While giving in on some things would raise red flags, the results, however, made any objections obsolete. A few hours of TV and tummy time, mixed with breakfast and the bottles ensured that there would be a dirty diaper for her to deal with. She hadn’t had to enforce any messing since the first enema and although Kylie still had her shame and humiliation about the act, she wasn’t resisting or holding anything back.

The messy change led to her morning bath where she was cleaned and made presentable to the world. Kylie wasn’t allowed to wash herself but she was allowed to brush her teeth. It was the only time where she was allowed to be without a diaper, but, for Kylie, she never tried to take advantage of it. After her teeth were clean, she was marched across the hall and laid down for a fresh diaper. It was in her toddler room that she would be getting dressed. Donna allowed her to apply deodorant as Donna picked out her clothes.

The rest of the day would be whatever Donna wanted it to be, and with Quackers in her arms, Kylie went along with it all with no complaints. There wasn’t anything to complain about, she hadn’t left Donna’s house since she got there. Groceries and everything else were delivered to Donna’s doorstep by a service. Kylie never saw anyone else. All of the outside windows save for the one in her nursery were blocked with curtains or blinds and she wasn’t allowed to go near them. Donna had told her that she wasn’t ready to be seen by other people. Henrietta was the only one that Donna had trusted. Although she had stopped by once or twice, Kylie hadn’t seen another person besides Donna.

That quality time had allowed a deep bond to form. Kylie loved Donna, or rather, what Donna represented. A caring motherly figure, Donna was the closest thing to a mother that Kylie had ever known and Kylie looked forward to every time they could be close. Cuddle time was her favorite. She had been wary at first, but now, whenever Donna would say it was time, Kylie would practically jump into Donna’s arms, wiggle in close, and love every second of it.

Sometimes she would sit next to Donna, sometimes sit on her lap, but others, she would lay in Donna’s arms and let Donna feed her a bottle. Gone from her mind was any notion of breastfeeding. She had forgotten all about it, and she didn’t mind drinking from the bottle, inches away from Donna’s breasts. The bond was strong and Kylie was readily dependent on Donna for practically everything. Diaper changes notwithstanding, Kylie didn’t do anything for herself to further her own existence. Donna cooked for her, cleaned her, cared for her, dressed her, and pretty much everything else. Kylie played with her toys, crammed food in her mouth, and used her diapers. That was it and that’s all she needed.

As far as her progress went, Kylie had never been happier. There were so many little things that brightened her day, from being handed a bottle or a pacifier, to random diaper checks, to being told that she was a good little girl. Donna was always attentive to Kylie’s mood. She was a good person and a great mother.

“Morning baby!” Donna said as she entered the nursery. Kylie quickly flopped over from her back to a sitting position, not caring about the damp squish of her diaper.

“Hi Mommy!” Kylie’s calling of Donna as mommy had taken some getting used to, but as Kylie’s affection for Donna had grown, so had Donna’s for Kylie.

“Did you sleep well, princess?”

“Berry much!” Kylie said, bouncing a little. She had Quackers in one hand. The stuffed duck had been a godsend to the both of them, as Kylie had accepted her routine with earnest as soon as she had her stuffed friend.

“Someone is awfully happy today. Did you have a good dream?”

“The bestest! I was a fairy princess! Then a space walker! And the pwesident! And then I was the bestest mommy like you!”

“The bestest Mommy? You really think I’m the best Mommy?”

“Uh huh! There is no one better!”

“What about your mother?”

Kylie stopped bouncing. Her expression went from happy to stoic. The adult in her took pause, contemplating the question.

“Kylie? Are you okay?” Donna said, lowering the crib bars. Kylie stepped out of the crib and got up on the changing table, the routine kicking in. She crossed her arms across her chest, a clear sign that she was upset.

“Kylie? Answer me.”

“No.”

“No? No what?”

“No.”

Donna sighed. She took Kylie by the arms and pulled her into a sitting position. Kylie averted her eyes but Donna took Kylie by the chin and forced Kylie’s gaze to meet hers.

“Kylie? I want you to listen to me and hear my words. Over the past few weeks, I have seen you make great strides into your therapy and I have never been happier. Both with your progress and with you. You are an amazing person and a fantastic little girl and...I...I love you. I love you like a mother loves her baby and I want what’s best for you. I didn’t mean to upset you but your progress can continue if you plateau here. You have a lot of pent up emotions towards your mother and I understand that, but right here is where you can’t bury those feelings. They have to be dealt with, one way or another. Do you understand?”

Kylie looked at Donna’s face, full of worry and emotion. She couldn’t believe the words that she had heard. They sounded so real!

“Y-you love me?”

“I do. I’ve tried to keep my feelings to myself, but these past few weeks with you have made things difficult for me. And I know that it is against protocol and I could be fired for it, but I can’t help myself. I love you as if you were my own child and I would do anything to see a smile on your face. Even if I have to tickle you!”

Kylie’s face cracked into half a smile. “I wuv you too, Mommy, more than I have ever loved someone before.”

“So why the sour face?”

“Cause.”

“Because, why, sweet pea?”

“Because my mother never loved me like you do!” Kylie shouted, bursting into tears.       “She’s never cared for me like a mother should care for a daughter! Even when I needed her the most, all she wanted to do was punish me! I hate her! I hate everything about her! And then you come along and you are everything that I ever wanted in a mother and I never want to let this feeling go. I never want to go back to being ignored or ridiculed for never being good enough.”

“You won’t. I promise you. I will never make you feel that way. It’s good that you got that out, but now you need to work on understanding. Most parents don’t go out of their way to ignore their children and I’m sure that your mother wanted what she thought was best for you. Parents...have their ways of making more mistakes then they are willing to admit. No one is perfect. I hope that with understanding, can come forgiveness. She loves you, in her own way, and she wants what’s best for you, just as I do. And what’s best for you right now, is a diaper change. So lay back, sweet pea, and I will get you all cleaned up.”

Kylie laid back, her posture relaxing. She knew that Donna was right, but she wasn’t ready to understand or forgive. Her mother’s actions had left scars, deep ones, and no single talk was going to be enough to heal them. She raised her hips as the routine took over, her adult mind fading away. She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her. The crinkle of a fresh diaper being fluffed, the feel of it slide under her bottom, the soothing feel of the baby wipes as they danced across her skin, the trickling tickle of the powder as it fell across her skin, the telltale smell as it hit her nose, the soft touch of Donna’s hands as it was spread across her area, the tug of the diaper being pulled up between her legs, the pressure of Donna’s hand as she held it in place as she secured the tapes, and the gentle pat on her thigh marking Donna’s completion of the change. Each sensation marking another layer of the regression that buried adult Kylie back down where she belonged. Little Kylie was the shield that protected hurt Kylie from her memories and the outside world. Little Kylie was her hero.

“Now, how’s my baby? All better now?”

Little Kylie couldn’t help but smile. Donna’s tone was full of the love and care that she normally had and it helped to ease Kylie’s mood.

“All better...Donna…”

“Are you sure?”

“I...I don’t know…”

“What don’t you know?”

“Things feel weird now.”

“Because I love you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to not love you?”

“No. I…I...I want to be worthy of your love.”

“Worthy? Such a big feeling for such a cute little girl. I’ll tell you what, I, Mommy, will always love you, my baby girl!”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear!” They crossed pinky fingers and Donna pulled Kylie back into sitting position.

“You don’t mind me calling you Mommy?”

Donna paused, her hidden hurt had lessened over the past few weeks. It was still there, but she wasn’t ready to face it. The hopeful look in Kylie’s eyes melted her resolve. “I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do. I would never lie to you.”

“Can you hold me, Mommy?”

“Of course!” Kylie slid off the changing table, her diaper crinkling loudly. Donna wrapped her arms around Kylie as Kylie buried her face between Donna’s breasts. Kylie was crying again, burning warm tears running down Donna’s chest. Kylie sobbed slowly, unsure why she was so emotional, but comforted by the arms of someone who loved her.

“There, there. Mommy has you and I will never let you go.” Kylie said nothing, just burrowed her face more into Donna’s chest. She wanted to stay in that moment for as long as possible, until her stomach growled. “Sounds like someone is hungry. Are you ready for some num nums?”

Kylie nodded and Donna let her go. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

“Then some cuddle time. Pwease?”

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

“Fank you, Mommy.”

Donna made them breakfast. French toast sticks and warm milk for Baby, proper French toast and coffee for Mommy. Mommy wiped the syrup off Babies hands before taking her into the living room. She turned on the TV to one of Baby’s cartoon shows and sat on the couch. Kylie lay in her lap, her head in the crook of Donna’s arm, her hands down by her diaper, and she suckled from the bottle while she listened to the cartoons. When the bottle was empty, she made no indication that she was ready to end cuddle time so Donna set the bottle aside and turned Kylie’s head toward her breast. She pulled Kylie’s head close and just held her there. Kylie turned her body towards Donna’s, laying on her side to be more comfortable. Donna knew that Kylie was close to being able to breastfeed, but the day had been emotional enough. Fully giving in and being fed like a baby was a highly pivotal moment and Kylie could either go with it or lose all of the progress that she had gained. She rocked her baby slightly and patted her diapered bottom.

The show ended and a new one began. Donna closed her eyes and leaned back, the rocking motion was cathartic for her. In her dreams, she did this everyday, rocking her baby as they fed from her. While she didn’t have the whole kit and kaboodle, she was gracious for what she did have. She continued to pat the baby in her arms, reaffirming the dynamic. Kylie had pooped halfway through the first episode and the continued pats were reinforcing the behavior. The second show ended and Donna stopped rocking to look down at her baby. Kylie’s eyes were closed, her face in a state of hypnosis, and her mouth was making a suckling motion. The fabric near her mouth was wet and for a moment, Donna feared that she had leaked through her bra. She stopped patting long enough to reach into her shirt and check her breast. It was dry, so the dampness had come from Kylie. Puzzled, Donna watched Kylie’s face as she started rocking again, patting Kylie’s diaper as she went. Kylie had stirred a little bit when the comforting motions had stopped, but as they returned, she settled. As Donna rocked, she tightened her arms, pushing Kylie’s mouth into Donna’s breast. The rocking and the patting caused Kylie to suckle, even on the once dry fabric.

Donna assumed that Kylie was deep in a state of regression, that the suckling motion was involuntary, and that it wasn’t something that could be repeated. She kept rocking and patting, just enjoying the sight. She was in a state of bliss.

The cartoons ended and some teenage show came on. Kylie stirred from her trance and sat up. She grimaced as she spread the mess around in her diaper, rubbing her eyes as if she had been asleep.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I made a messy!”

“I know. Are you ready for your bath?”

“Uh huh!”

“Well, then, let’s get you into the tub.”

Donna stood up and Kylie noticed the wet spot on her shirt. “Did I drool on you?”

“Yes, you did. You really needed some cuddle time, huh?”

“Uh huh!”

“Mommy will get you in the tub and then change her shirt. Would you like to go outside today?”

“I dunno.”

“I think it’s time. Mommy will dress you up super cute and we will go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yeah, just down the road. Nowhere major. And I promise that no one will see your diaper.”

“Otay. Bath first.”

“Of course, bath first, stinky girl. We don’t want you going out like that now do we?”       “No! No stinky!”

Donna cleaned her up as best she could with Kylie in a standing position, and then got her in the tub. She added plenty of bubbles and Kylie’s bath toys. Kylie soaked in the warm water as Donna peeled off her blouse. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Donna undid her bra and tossed it into the hamper. Donna’s breasts were engorged and for a brief moment, Kylie wanted to nuzzle them. Donna put on another bra and left the bathroom. Kylie put her thoughts out of her mind and played with her toys. She was confused about what she was feeling but knew that laying in Mommy’s arms was where she wanted to be.

Mommy returned with a clean shirt on and rolled up her sleeves. She washed Kylie, laughing as the girl played with her toys. Kylie kept sneaking glances down Donna’s shirt unsure how to handle the emotions and desires that swirled in her head.

After her bath, Kylie brushed her teeth and followed Mommy across the hall to the toddler room. She laid down on the bed for her diaper and tried to sort her thoughts out. She paid little attention to how Mommy got her dressed. A white shirt, black skirt, and white contoured tights that went up and over her diaper. Mommy helped her slide into her flats, simple shoes that went well with her clothes and then she sat on the floor as Mommy brushed her hair into two pigtails. She used pink ribbons to keep her hair in place.

“There! Aren’t you the cutest thing ever!”

Kylie walked over to the mirror, looking herself over. The black skirt hung low enough that she couldn’t see her diaper unless she bent over. As she checked herself over, Mommy clipped something to her shirt. There was a little plastic cover on the clip of a duck and a ribbon that hung down. Mommy clipped a pacifier to it and gave it a tug. It didn’t pull off Kylie’s shirt and Mommy smiled. She removed the pacifier but left the ribbon.

“Just in case.” She said. “Are you ready to go?”

Kylie nodded and took Mommy by the hand. She followed Mommy to the entryway and waited as Mommy grabbed her cell phone and her purse. She could see the plastic cap of a bottle sticking out of the purse but didn’t say anything. She was so enthralled by Mommy that public exposure wasn’t a scary concept. Mommy put in her code and the front door opened.

Fresh air and blinding sunlight bathed Kylie’s face. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she took several deep breaths. She clenched her Mommy’s hand tightly as she gingerly took a step out of the door. The warmth of the sunlight flooded over her and warmed her soul. Embolden, she let go of her Mommy’s hand and took a few more steps. Her apprehensions melted away. There was no one around to laugh at her, to point and mock, or to ridicule. She could be outside, in the wide world, and no one would know that she was secretly a baby. Secretly?

Mommy caught up with her and took her by the hand. They walked down the street, the quieted crinkle the only sound that could give her away. Mommy led her down the street, over a few more, and down another street. Kylie was too busy looking at everything that she could to take any notice of where they were going. She was in Mommy’s care and Mommy knew best.

They walked up the drive a house that looked fairly similar to Mommy’s house. Kylie didn’t know why they were there, but didn’t really care. Mommy knocked on the door and after a moment, the door opened and a woman appeared. She was tall like Mommy but younger. She had a stern expression hidden behind her dark hair and black rimmed glasses. Mommy and the woman exchanged pleasantries and then they entered the woman’s house.

Mommy let go of her hand and she gingerly stepped away to look around. She looked back at Mommy for approval and Mommy nodded. Kylie walked slowly around the living room, just off of the entryway. There were toys strewn about the floor. Baby toys. Puzzled by this, she looked at the pictures on the walls and saw no sign of a baby. Confused, she returned to Mommy and tugged on her hand.

“Yes, Kylie?”

“Mommy? I see toys but I don’t see no baby.”

“That’s because the baby is upstairs.” The woman said, pointing down the hall.       “She’s due to get up from her nap. Why don’t you go and see her?” “Can I, Mommy? Pwease?” Kylie asked.

“Sure. If Ms. Carver says it’s okay, then it’s okay. Thank you for asking so nicely.”

Kylie headed down the hall until she found the stairs. She carefully climbed them, one step at a time, like a child would, her hand on the banister. She had picked up a lot of toddle type mannerisms in her time with Mommy.

She found the baby’s room thanks to the word logo B.A.B.Y. in large letters on the door. It wasn’t shut all the way so Kylie slowly pushed it open. The room was a nursery, similar to hers, though organized differently. The play area was on the left of the room instead of on the right. The crib, to the right, was in a corner. In the crib, lay someone. They were facing away from Kylie so Kylie slowly stepped into the room to get a better look.

There was a girl in the crib, judging by the long hair that came down to the middle of her back. She was wearing white socks with pink frills and a diaper that clearly needed to be changed. She still wore the ankle restraints and collar that Kylie had since forgotten about. Her upper body was covered with something that had many straps and buckles on it and it took Kylie a minute to recognise what it was, a straightjacket. The girl also had something strapped around her head. Kylie had an idea of what it was and felt sorry for the girl. A pacifier gag was not comfortable to wear.

She crept closer to the crib. The girl didn’t seem like she was asleep but didn’t know that Kylie was there. She got all the way to the crib and reached her arm through the bars. She tapped the girl on the shoulder. The girl flinched and twisted her body around to face Kylie. Both of their eyes went wide from the shock of recognition. The girl in the crib’s face paled as Kylie uttered one word.

“Lucy?!”

Lucile (Lucy) Hernandez had been in near constant torment for weeks. While she had given in to Penny Carver’s demands, she had found little respite in her capitulation. Penny had been cruelly steadfast. For every liberty Lucy got, like eating, she had to submit to Penny’s dictatorial rule. She was gagged on a near constant basis, always diapered, and always restrained in some form or another. Lately, it was ankle bracelets, the straightjacket, and the collar. Lucy hated Penny with every fiber of her being. When she was allowed out of the crib, she had to crawl on all fours, a leash secured to her collar, led around like some kind of dog. She ate pureed food off of a baby spoon that Penny fed her with, or drank out of a bottle. She was miserable and defeated, any act of rebellion met with unflinching, unapologetic discipline.

She was tortured by her captor with this infantile nonsense.

The third week, and everything that came with it, finally broke Lucy. She stopped fighting, stopped back talking, and stopped everything that could be construed as resistance. Penny had relented in some of her cruelty, but not by much. Lucy still wasn’t allowed to walk or have any real freedoms, but the more she consented to the treatment, the less it seemed to bother her.

When Penny had changed her, gagged her, and put her down for a nap, Lucy had cried herself to sleep. She hadn’t slept long, it was hard to sleep in the straightjacket and pacifier gag, but she had slept a little. She was giving up on her life, slowly coming to terms with the harsh reality that she was now living in, and the regrets that came with it. She regretted having treated Kylie how she did, and how that one bad choice had led her down this path. She didn’t know what she would say if she ever saw Kylie again or how she would ask for forgiveness, but she also felt as if she didn’t deserve she didn’t deserve to be forgiven. Her life of bullying others to make herself feel better had put her in the hands of the baddest bully she had ever met. She, in some twisted way, felt as if she deserved her comeuppance. Resigned to her fate, she lay in her crib and waited.

She had heard the door open and the soft footsteps. Penny always wore heels. She didn’t know what fresh hell was about to befall her so she pretended to be asleep. Her shoulder was jabbed by something and when she turned over, she was astonished by the face that looked at her through the crib bars.

Kylie Gillis looked through the bars of Lucy’s crib and Lucy never felt lower. If there was a more humiliating was to be exposed to her worst enemy, she didn’t know it. Hell, she would take being stark naked as opposed to diapered and restrained in a crib.

“Lucy?!”

Kylie’s voice was like glass cutting her mind. While the tone was of surprise and concern, all Lucy heard was exclamation and laughter.

Kylie stepped back from the crib for a moment, making sure that what she was seeing was real. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Lucy, the girl that had exposed and embarrassed her at the debutante ball, was now seemingly in the same position as she was. Was this luck or was this providence? Kylie didn’t know. Lucy looked terrible, like she had spent the entire time crying or miserable. It tugged at Kylie’s heartstrings. She was not happy with what Lucy had done to her, but she didn’t hate Lucy.

“I see that the little baby is awake. Did you have a good nap?” Penny and Donna had appeared behind Kylie and Lucy seemed to shrink away at the sight of Penny.

“Did you know?” Kylie asked, her toddler self cast aside.

“Know what?” Donna asked.

“Did you know that she was here?”

“No.”

“No? Then what is this?”

“This is a reminder of how you should behave. I don’t appreciate your tone, Kylie.”

Penny walked around Kylie as the young girl stared down her caregiver. She unlocked the crib and helped Lucy to her feet. She led Lucy over to the diaper changing table and helped her onto it. Kylie watched the whole thing, feeling angry and betrayed.

“Why is she here?”

“She’s here because her father wants her here.” Penny interjected. “And it’s not for you to ask who, where, or why someone is in the program.”

“Kylie,” Donna carefully said, “I know that you are upset, and it’s understandable. How about we go home and talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it! There’s nothing to talk about. There’s nothing to…” Kylie looked over at Lucy who was trying as hard as she could to appear invisible.       “...say…”

“I am having a hard time believing you. It looks like you have a lot that you need to say, just not to me.”

Kylie was distracted. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Lucy. Penny was undoing the straps around Lucy’s thighs.

Donna walked over to her and took her by the hand. “I think the two of you have more in common than you know.” To demonstrate her point, she turned Kylie around and lifted her skirt, showing Kylie’s diaper to Lucy. “You don’t need to be changed quite yet, but it never hurts to check.”

Kylie whined and pulled away from Donna. She felt like she was being mocked, paraded around in front of the one person who had made her life miserable.

“Well, someone here needs a change. Such a messy baby!” Penny said in a mocking tone. Lucy whined as hard as she could behind her gag.

“Aww. Does someone not like being called a baby? Well, I’m not sure what you call someone who messes their diapers other than a baby. But don’t you worry, I will get you all cleaned up and then you can play with your little friend.”

Lucy’s eyes went wide as Penny pulled open the tapes on her well used diaper. She paled and then flushed red from embarrassment. Tears ran down her face as she shook her head slowly, trying to silently plead for mercy.

“Behave yourself, Lucy, and I will let you out of the jacket. You need to be changed and it’s going to happen right now. An audience is the least of your problems. I’m sure that Kylie has had to have her messy diaper changed.”

“This morning, in fact. She’s on a pretty good routine so far.” “Shhhh!” Kylie said.

“Don’t shush me, Kylie, it’s disrespectful. You wear diapers. You use your diapers. I change your diapers. End of story. There is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“No one needs to know!”

“A hurdle we will start dealing with today. Penny, do you mind?” Donna gestured to a secondary changing table.

“Help yourself!”

Donna pulled the table over to the other one, tucking it up close. She grabbed Kylie by the hand and lifted her up onto the table, pushing her onto her back. She pulled Kylie’s pacifier out of her pocket and shoved it into Kylie’s mouth.

“You’re wet, and I was going to let you go a little bit longer, but you and Lucy here need to get over being so shy and embarrassed about being changed. So, little girl, you're going to be changed, right here, right now.”

Kylie pouted but didn’t resist. She didn’t want to look at Lucy, but found that staring into Lucy’s eyes, the mutual shame and embarrassment bonding them in that one traumatic event. Kylie tried not to crinkle her nose as the smell of Lucy’s diaper hit her, but as the tears of shame rolled down Lucy’s cheeks, she reached over and put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. Neither had anything to lord over the other anymore. Both were on the same level now.

“There,” Donna said, “The Pampered Princesses are all cleaned up!”

Penny helped Lucy sit up and started taking off the straightjacket. “Remember what I said, Lucy. Behave yourself. I don’t want to hear any screaming or fighting or anything like that.

You know what happens when you misbehave.”

Lucy nodded, slowly. Harsh lessons learned the hard way. Penny removed the straightjacket and unbuckled the pacifier. She covered Lucy’s hands with mittens and locked them to the wrist restraints.

“Now, we want you girls to get along. We are going to go downstairs and have some grown up talk. We will come get you when it's lunch time.” Penny said.

“I want you to be on your best behavior, Kylie. I don’t want to have to give you a spanking when we get home.”

“At home? No, you would be best to blister her little bottom right here. Direct actions after deliberate insubordination.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Donna said. “Will it?”

“No. I’ll be good.”

“You will be good, what?”

Kylie blushed, “I’ll be good, Mommy.”

“That’s my girl. You two have fun now.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Donna followed Penny out the door and the two younger girls heard it click shut. They sat on the changing tables, the air full of awkward silence. Lucy stretched her jaw and her shoulders but when she twisted her back to ease her muscles, her diaper crinkled and she froze.

Kylie didn’t know what to say about any of it. She hadn’t expected Donna to change her in front of her nemesis. She sat in silent, running her hands down her skirt to get the wrinkles out. She slowly reached up and pulled the pacifier out of her mouth and clipped it to the ribbon hanging from her shirt.

The two girls looked at each other as if to size the other up. Their emotions and their memories washed over them like waterfalls. There was nothing but tension in the air.

The door swung open unexpectedly and Donna walked back in.

“I warmed up your bottle of milk, baby girl. And I brought you a bottle of juice, Lucy. Lunch won't be for a little bit still, so you have plenty of time to play. My little baby is already having her first play date! I’m so proud of you! I wish you girls could see how cute you look together. Almost like sisters.”

Donna smiled at them, handing them each their respective bottles before closing the door behind her, leaving them alone once more.

Part Seven: Peace

“Sisters?” Lucy scoffed, “Not on your fucking life you psychotic bitch.”

Her voice was low so that only Kylie could hear her. She hopped off of the changing table and set the bottle down. She tried in vain to push the diaper off her hips but she couldn’t get a grip on it with her hands covered in mittens. Frustrated, she gave up and tried pulling the mittens off of her hands. Tied to the bracelets, they wouldn’t budge either. Lastly, she tried to get the cap off of the bottle of juice. Her fingers kept sliding off the plastic and in a fit of frustrated rage, she slammed the bottle down on the changing table and stomped away.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not fucking okay. My life has officially ended. I’m trapped in this house being tortured by some twat under the guise that it’s all for my own good.”

“What do you mean by tortured?”

“Are you blind? Do you not see where we are and what we are wearing? I mean, I’ve done some bondage before but I’ve never had someone make me wear diapers!”

“They aren’t all that bad.”

“Says you, I’m sure you like wearing them, but news flash, we aren’t all sickos like you.”

“I’m not sick, Lucy. Not like that.”

“Oh sure. You’re not sick. You’re mentally deranged! No rational adult has ever wanted to wear diapers on purpose.”

“Why do you have to be so mean? Why can’t you just accept that other people may be different from you?”

“Different? There is a big difference between different, and perverse. This little game that you are playing is perverse, sick beyond comparison. You need serious psychiatric help!”

“I’m getting it. With Donna.” Lucy stopped ranting and looked at Kylie. Kylie slid off of the changing table, loud crinkling coming from under her skirt, and walked over to Lucy’s bottle. She pried off the protective cap and held it out to Lucy. “I can only imagine what you think of me, Lucy. You’ve been nothing but cruel to me since we met at cheer camp, but I’m not some irrational person that wears her bullying on her sleeve, or carries that baggage around with her in any literal sense. Despite what you may think, my world doesn’t revolve around you and this,”

She gestured to what she was wearing, “wasn’t caused by you.”

Lucy tentatively took the bottle from Kylie’s hand. She could drink from it at least, it wasn’t how she wanted to drink it, but it was something. She wasn’t willing to have Kylie see her drinking like a baby from a bottle.

“I’m here because I chose to be. I’m dressed like this because this comforts me. I don’t really care what you think about me or how I live my life. When I don’t have to worry about being my mother’s perfect angel, I can be happy. I don’t expect you to understand what I’m going through but before you set it in your mind that we are all sick people, I’d urge you to reconsider.”

“Reconsider? Reconsider what? Wearing diapers? What is there to think about? It’s not normal, it’s not hygienic, and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting. I don’t want to be someone’s twisted fantasy, trapped in this house, and being treated like some weird sex slave.”

“Has she hurt you?”

“She’s tortured me. She kidnapped me. And she won’t let me leave.”

“But how? What has she done?”

“Did you not see me gagged, in a straightjacket, and wearing this ridiculous thing?”

“Yes. But that’s not technically torture. I’m sure she told you about the rules and why you are here.”

“That’s not the point.”

“That is exactly the point, Lucy. You’re projecting your anger onto her. She’s just doing her job.”

“Her job? This is a job for her? Someone is paying her to treat me like this? It’s inhumane! You all wait until my father hears abou-” Lucy went silent, remembering what Penny had told her.

“Your father wanted you here, didn’t he?”

“He couldn’t! How could he?! I was his only child!”

“You still are his child.”

“Then why would he want this to happen to me? What did I do so wrong?” Lucy cried, dropping her bottle and running to a corner and slouching in it.

“I don’t know, Lucy. I don’t know hardly anything about you. But I do know that this program we are in is supposed to help us deal with our issues and make us better people.”

“I am a good person. I am…”

Kylie grabbed Lucy’s bottle and carried it over to where Lucy was. She sat down next to Lucy, setting the bottle down nearby. She wrapped her arm around the crying girl.

“Can I tell you a secret? Something that I’ve never told anyone ever?” Lucy sniffed and wiped the tears off her cheeks. She nodded at Kylie, too distraught to care about being held. “I know exactly why I’m here. I’m here because my parents screwed me up. My dad left me and my brother when I was very young and my mom tried to compensate for his absence by trying to do everything herself. When he left, I lost everything and the longer my life goes on, the more that wound hurts. My mother stopped loving me and in some way, blames me for him leaving.

“I tried to deal with it on my own but I haven’t been successful. I’ve never been able to confront my mother about any of this, especially face to face, and all that pent up emotion has had a physical effect on me. You and Cassie Briggs found that out that day at camp. You locked me in the boy’s locker room in just my underwear until I peed myself. Ever since then, any time when I get too stressed out, I wet myself. I wanted to blame you for all of it but the cause runs deeper than some mild bullying. When my mom found out, she tried to force me to stop, and when force didn’t work, punishment and humiliation were next. So, when she couldn’t get me to stop, she put me back in diapers.

“I hated her at first, like I hated you, but the more time I spent not having to worry about making it to the bathroom in time, the less stressed I was. I was happy, even. I knew then and I know now that this isn’t normal, but I’m at my happiest when I don’t have to be that scared girl that can’t get through a single day without wearing a pad to keep my pants dry.

“Why am I telling you this? Because I want you to understand me. I want you to understand that what you see, isn’t all that I am. Am I wearing diapers? Yes. Do I like to wear them? Yes. Do I think that I will wear them forever? No. My time with Donna is helping me understand what happened to me and how it’s affecting my life. When I can come to terms with all of that, then I can move on from this place and you can too. I believe that you can and if there is anything that I can do to help you, I will. The hardest part of finding help is understanding that you are not alone.”

Lucy had stopped crying. She was resting her head on Kylie’s shoulder, listening to the story. Kylie was not the person that Lucy had thought she was. She didn’t want to admit that she deserved to be here. She wasn’t ready to look into herself and see her hidden truth. After being alone with Penny for so many weeks, she was grateful just to be held.

“I...I’m sorry, Kylie. For what I did to you. At the ball.”

“It’s okay. Turns out that I wasn’t the only one there in diapers. All of those girls that were paraded in front of us wore them too.”

“What kind of world did we fall into?”

“A world that we never knew existed. But, at least we look cute!”

“You look cute. I’m just in a tee shirt and this thing.” She tapped her diaper, making it crinkle.

“It looks good on you. You should see how it hugs your butt.”

“Stop trying to make me feel okay about all of this. It won’t work.”

“Okay. I won’t say anything about it. I promise.”

“Making promises with your enemy now? Doesn’t that seem foolish?”

“You are not my enemy. You never were. My enemy is in here.” Kylie tapped her head. “Admittedly, you are the last person I thought I would see in this program, but I’m glad you're someone that I know.”

“You don’t know me. No one does.”

“You sound so lonely.”

“Don’t give me that typical lonely rich girl schtick. I’ve heard it all before.”

“Then let me get to know you.”

“Why?”

“Because. No one should have to go through this alone.”

“Why? Why help me? After all that I’ve done?”

“Because everyone deserves forgiveness and compassion. I don’t know your story. Or your hurt. Who am I to judge who you are? Or who you could be?”

Lucy sat there quietly for a moment. Forgiveness and compassion were not things she was used to getting from people she had picked on. Hatred and scorn, those were things familiar to her. Her soul felt so dark, even surrounded by all the bright pastel colors.

“I’m scared, Kylie. I’m scared of being left alone with her. You don’t know what she’s like.”

“I don’t. And I’m sorry. But if I’ve learned anything, it is that they act based on our behavior. Everything they do is a direct reaction of what we’ve done.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“I did, once.” Kylie said, not believing Lucy. “I talked back and said some mean things and I was punished for it. I learned quickly that they are in charge, no amount of fighting them was going to make anything better.”

“Did she hit you?”

“She spanked me. Once. It hurt a lot, but it was because I didn’t do what I was told.”

“We aren’t children. They can’t treat us like this.”

“I think that’s the point, though. We are children. Sure, by age we are adults, but we have both shown how immature we really are. I wet my pants and my bed. At nineteen. That’s really immature.”

“And being put back in diapers and treated like a baby is the answer to that?”

“For me, maybe. I don’t know how to really explain it. It sounds weird and maybe I am weird, but I like this. I like being treated like this. Because although it’s not ideal, I know that Donna cares for me in a way that my parents never did. I need to start my life over. And this is how I’m going to do it. Maybe if you stopped fighting it and just let her take care of you, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“You want me to let her treat me like a baby?”

“I want you to try. It has to be better than being tied up and forced. They aren’t allowed to really hurt you, or do anything permanent, and there is a way out if she isn’t able to help you.”

“A way out? What way? How do I get out?”

“There’s more to this than just saying that you want out. They try a lot of different things before they would say that you can’t be helped. They could move you to a different house and the next person could be worse than Penny. All I’m saying is that you should give being a baby a try. It’s not as bad as it sounds and a lot of your hesitations are in your head.”

“There are people worse than her?”

“There could be. I know that they have never given up on someone and no one has ever failed out of this program.”

“I just want to go home.” Lucy said, exasperated, her emotions were running high again.

“And I want something to drink.” Kylie said, looking around for her bottle. It was still sitting on the changing table. “Are you thirsty?”

Lucy nodded, but shook her head when presented with her bottle of juice. “Not like that.”

“I can’t get the nipple off. I tried. And even if I did, I’m sure we would both be punished for it.” Kylie got up and went to get her bottle off the table. She popped the nipple in her mouth and began suckling from it. The milk was cooling down but still tasted as she expected. Lucy looked at her in amazement.

“You are awfully cavalier about that.”

“Girls gotta eat.”

“How do you do it? How do you just accept all of this?”

“By letting it put me in the right mindset.”

“What mindset?”

“The mindset of being at peace. I know how all of this looks and sometimes, I feel ridiculous, but it’s how it makes me feel that matters most to me. I feel like everything outside that window or that door doesn’t exist anymore. It all goes away and it’s just me, in this moment, and it leaves me at peace with my life. And in those moments, I’m safe. Nothing can bother me, and no one can hurt me.”

“And this happens a lot?”

“Every day. I spend more time like that then I do being the grown up woman that I’m supposed to be.”

“And you think that I could do that too? Feel like you feel?”

“If you are willing to try. You have to cast off the grown you, and just be in the moment.” “How?”

“Well, let’s see. How about we climb up into the crib and lay down.”

“...okay.”

“Bring your bottle.”

Lucy was hesitant, but brought it. She was unsure about where this was all headed, but she felt compelled to at least give it a try. Kylie crawled up into the crib first and patted the spot next to her. Lucy followed her. She hated the crib but at least it was more comfortable than the floor.

“Okay, now what?”

“Now, let’s lay down.” The girls laid down. The ceiling above them was decorated with fairy princesses and unicorns. There was a mobile hanging just out of their reach.       Kylie stood up on her tiptoes and managed to turn it on. It spun slowly and played a calming tune. She laid back down and looked at Lucy.

“Bottoms up!” She said. She stuck the nipple back into her mouth and waited. Lucy tried to follow suit but couldn’t quite go through with it.

“It’s all too weird. I don-”

“Shhh.” Kylie said, taking the bottle from Lucy’s hand and pressing it against her lips. “You’re thinking too much. Just let it go. It’s juice. It’s safe. You are safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She slid her arm under Lucy’s head and rubbed the nipple across her lips. “It’s okay. I promise, everything will be okay.”

Lucy’s lip quivered for a moment. She locked eyes with Kylie and Kylie smiled.       “That’s it. Look at me. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Lucy’s lips parted and the nipple slid into her mouth. She was parched from being gagged for so long and was very thirsty. She never took her eyes off of Kylie as she began to drink from the bottle.

“There you go. That’s a good girl. Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Lucy drank more from the bottle, Kylie’s soothing words coupled with the hypnotic properties of drinking from a bottle calmed her. She lay in Kylie’s arms and for the first time in weeks, felt safe.

“Is that good? My, you were really thirsty!” Lucy sucked air and her focus returned.       “All gone!”

“Gone? How?”

“You drank it all, silly.”

“But...it’s only been a few minutes!”

“It’s been longer than that. Half an hour by the clock over there.”

“It went by so fast!”

Kylie laughed. “It does when you let it all go. You would be amazed at what can happen when you free your minds from such grown up thoughts.” She pointed to Lucy’s diaper and the darkened area between her legs.

“I peed?!”

“Yes. Yes you did. And you didn’t even notice that it was happening.”

“Oh my god! What is happening to me?!”

“You are letting go. Now lie back down and I’ll give you my bottle.”

“Your- Why?”

“Because you are still thirsty.”

“What about you? I thought you were-”

“Shhh.” Kylie said, gently pulling Lucy back into her arms. She held the bottle of milk to

Lucy’s lips. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

Lucy nodded, accepting the bottle. Her head was swirling in confusion and wonder, but her belly was filling. She didn’t understand what was happening to her, but in the moment, she felt better than she had since she got to this place. Her eyes drooped and she listened to the melody being played by the mobile. She looked at the butterflies spinning around slowly and felt entranced by all of it. The milk tasted slightly weird but she didn’t care. Her diaper was wet, a fact that she hadn’t been aware of happening, but it didn’t matter. She was warm and cozy in Kylie’s arms and for the moment, she finally felt safe.

Kylie watched Lucy’s eyes droop closed and the girl fall asleep. It turned out that the human connection was what was missing from Lucy’s treatment. It was something that Penny and Donna may not have known, or perhaps they did, and that was why Kylie was there. She didn’t know. What she did know was that Lucy needed her and for some reason, Kylie needed her as well. She didn’t know what it all meant or how it would all play out, but she felt connected to Lucy in a way that she never thought possible.

She rested her head on her arm as the nipple slid out of Lucy’s mouth. The bottle was empty and was no longer needed. She let it fall from her hand and it rolled out of the crib and fell with a thump onto the floor. She tossed the other one out of the crib and settled in. It wasn’t her crib and she didn’t have Quackers, but Lucy needed her. She listened to the melody of the mobile and closed her eyes, letting herself slip back into her little space. Warmth spread as she wet herself. Content and comfortable, she slipped off to sleep.

Penny and Donna were sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying cups of tea. Donna had just come back downstairs from dropping off the bottles as the water had come to a boil.

“So, how’s it been going with Lucy? I see you are still up to your old ways.”

“Old ways? My ways have always been the same.”

“I can tell. No matter how often you have been told that your methods are…”       “Different?”

“Some would say cruel.”

“They would, and they would be wrong. My results speak for themselves. And I don’t do anything without proper justification.”

“And what was the justification for what I saw up there?”

“Why do you care?”

“I care because of Kylie. I worry about her seeing more than she is ready to handle. Lucy was a tormentor of Kylie’s and I don’t want her thinking that such treatment is acceptable.”

“It isn’t. I am not stupid or reckless. It was a temporary thing to hammer home her new reality.”

“Like the leash? And I bet if I go down the hall, I’ll find that the cage has been recently used.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I don’t like your methods.”

“And coddling them is the answer?”

“Positive reinforcement is.”

“You haven’t had to deal with the kind of people I have. I appreciate your concern, but I’m not going outside of protocol.”

“I hope not. I would like to bring Kylie around more often. I think it would be good for the girls to spend some quality time together.”

“We will see. I’m still not sold that Lucy is a willing participant of the program. Until then, I can’t trust that her motives are pure.”

“Maybe she needs an example to follow.”

“I take it then you are here to gloat?”

“Gloat? Why would I ever gloat?”

Penny smirked, “Because that’s what you do. You always have. You are a natural mothering type and have proved time and time again that your littles are the best behaved across the board. They are also the quickest to move on to phase two. Meanwhile, us lonely plebes back here in the trenches have to do some actual work to get some results.”

“And that is somehow construed as gloating?”

“Well, when you parade her over here just three weeks into her treatment and she’s practically attached to your tits, then yes.”

“She’s not...we aren’t there yet.”

“But she will be. And like all of the others, she will have her moment, her great breakthrough, and she will begin to heal.”

“I’m not sure that there is any great breakthrough to have. I think she already knows what caused her to come down this road. I think she just enjoys being cared for.”

“You think she’s a keeper?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe someone who will always have an affinity for this, but not one to stay in our care forever.”

“Still trying to fill that hole in your life, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure that I will ever have what I had.”

“You will. Give it time. As for me, I’m in this for the thrill.”

“You always did get some kick out of being in charge.”

“Always will.”

They drank their tea, reflecting on their lives. Penny got up to boil some water for macaroni and cheese for the girls.

“Penny? Do you think that you can help her?”

“Who? Lucy?”

“Yeah.”

“No. I don’t think so. That’s not really what I do. I break people. I get them to finally go along with the program and then I get pulled off their case.”

“How do you deal with that?”

“By not getting attached. It’s easier to put them through what I do when I don’t care about them.”

“Has Moira talked to you?”

“You know she has. She has talked to you as well. You know her, she has to have her fingers in everything. So I guess we just have to get the story straight.”

“Story?”

“Yeah. The story. The same story that we’ve done for years. You file a claim that I’m abusing my clients. I get hauled into Mike's office and my client gets taken from me. And you think that’s where it ends. But it doesn’t. You don’t know the kind of person that Mike is or what he can do.”

“I can’t tell if you're afraid of him or turned on by the thought.”

Penny laughed. “A bit of both, actually.” She went over to the counter and grabbed a file off of it. She slid it across the table to Donna.

“What’s this?”

“Lucy’s file. Including the deposition by her father as to why he put her in the program.”

“Why are you showing this to me?”

“No particular reason. I figured that if anyone can reach that girl, it would be you.”

“That’s not how this works. I have a little already. They don’t like to group them up.”

“I know, but this wouldn’t be the first time that they’ve made an exception for you.”

Donna read through the file as Penny poured the macaroni noodles into the boiling water. She stirred them slowly as Donna flipped the pages. There was a lot in the file. Lucy had been in and out of trouble since becoming a teenager. Her father admitted to not disciplining his daughter when it could have made an impact. He had tried counselling but it hadn’t lasted long. Lucy had refused to go most times and when she did go, she wouldn’t participate. Although Mr. Hernandez had the money to keep paying, he found that there was no point if she didn’t want to change.

His deposition felt more like an admission of guilt. He blamed himself for how his daughter behaved, how she had been so cruel, and how she had embarrassed him in front of the debutantes. Towards the end, in his final few paragraphs, he authorized the Institute to regress Lucy back to babyhood, as far back as they could go, before bringing her back to adulthood. He believed that she needed a full restart as it would be the only way to rid her of the entitlement that she walked around with.

Donna closed the file and sighed. She had seen something similar with another client. Although she normally dealt with troubled girls, one of the few cases where she took on a young man was just like this. Spoiled rich kid, crying out for his parents’ attention, had gotten himself into more trouble then money could get him out of. His parents worked with their attorney to get him assigned to the Institute and after he had been broken by someone like Penny, he was sent to Donna. She had worked with him for three months, getting him into the routine and accepting the person that he had been before he had expressed his hidden truth. He had been assaulted by his uncle when he was a boy and when no one believed him, he started acting out. It was a sad tale, and she had cared for him for another four months until he was ready to move on. The last she heard, he was back out in the world, a successful young man at his family’s law firm.

“You see the similarities, don’t you?” Penny asked, stirring the last of the ingredients into the pot.

“Do you think she was abused?”

“No. Rather, I don’t know. I’m not as well trained as you are on that. But there is something there.”

“She needs a lot of work.”

“Which is why I don’t think that I’m right for this job.”

“So option out.”

“You know I can’t do that. I never quit and I never give up.”

“So what do you want me to do about it?”

“I could use your opinion.”

“I would need some time with her, to see how she behaves when you are not around. She seems a little gun shy of you.”

“So take her home with you.”

“I can’t just-”

“You can and you know it. I have another conference coming up that I need to go to, and I could use a babysitter.”

“Short term?”

“The weekend.”

“Fine. But you have to ease up on her a little but first.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” She bounced the spoon on the rim of the pot before setting it down. “Their lunch is ready. Shall we go see what they have been up to?”

“Absolutely. And no word about our little arrangement.”

“My mouth is shut.”

“I doubt your mouth has ever been truly shut.”

Penny smiled again, shrugging flirtatiously. She was a knockout and got around or so the office rumors went.

Upstairs, they were surprised at the sight. The girls looked as if they were asleep in the crib, wrapped up in each other's arms. The bottles lay empty on the floor. Kylie’s head lifted up at the sound of the slight gasps from Donna and Penny. She groggily looked down at Lucy and at her surroundings.

“Did you have a nice nap, sweety?” Donna asked.

Kylie nodded, rubbing her eyes. Lucy stirred and sat up, her hair matted from sweat. She yawned and stretched, and proceeded to whine at her mittens, tugging at them the best she could. Her gestures were futile and after her whining got to be annoying, Kylie pulled the pacifier off her shirt and pushed it into Lucy’s mouth. Lucy stopped whining and sat there, sucking on the binky.

Kylie gently pushed Lucy out the way so that she could crawl out of the crib. She unsteadily walked into Donna’s arms. Donna rubbed her back and checked her diaper. Kylie was wet but not soaked. Penny went over to Lucy who wasn’t fully awake and helped her lay back down. She checked Lucy’s diaper as well, and debated on changing her. She thought better of it as Lucy still needed to get used to being wet for longer periods of time.

“Are you hungry, baby?” Donna asked Kylie.

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Let’s go downstairs and get you some lunch, then we will go home.”

“Otay.”

Donna led her sleepy baby down the stairs and in a few moments, Penny and Lucy followed suit. Donna had set up a second high chair in the kitchen and was locking the tray in place for Kylie. Penny followed Donna’s lead. Where she would have normally secured Lucy’s hands and feet and spoon fed her, she was trying to show how compassionate she could be.

They gave the girls their bowls of macaroni and watched in silence as the girls ate. The more they did, the more awake they became. They didn’t talk about what happened to them in the crib and barely looked at each other. The more Lucy woke up, the angrier she felt. She had enjoyed her time with Kylie and was angry that it was over. She was also upset at how soothing having a pacifier in her mouth was.

“All done!” Kylie exclaimed suddenly, holding up the empty bowl.

“Was it good?”

“Uh huh. Weawy good.” Lucy looked at Kylie, puzzled. She had talked earlier like a normal person and now, she was talking like a small child.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes, pwease!”

Kylie bounced happily in her high chair, far too perky than Lucy had ever seen her. With her bowl refilled, Kylie went back to eating, playfully bouncing around and picking up the noodles with her fingers. Lucy watched the whole thing with great interest. She had never seen someone act like Kylie was. She looked so happy, so free.

When Kylie was done eating, Donna washed her face and her hands and helped her down from the high chair. She thanked Penny for the company and led Kylie to the door.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I say goodbye to Lucy?”

“Of course, baby. Thank Penny for a wonderful time, too.”

Kylie skipped back into the kitchen where Lucy and Penny were. She stopped in front of Lucy’s high chair and looked at Penny.

“Ms. Penny?”

“Yes, Kylie?”

“Fank you for having me over to play. I had so much fun.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Do you think I could play with Lucy again?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Tomorrow?”

Penny smiled, “We will see how Lucy behaves tonight, but I will let your Mommy know.”

“Otay.” She turned back to Lucy and picked up the pacifier. She dipped it in the macaroni before pushing it into Lucy’s stunned mouth. “Be a good girl so I can come play wif you again!” She spun on her heel and skipped back Donna. “I’m ready Mommy!”

“Let’s go home, baby.”

“Bye Lucy!” Kylie yelled as they walked out of the door into the early afternoon. The door shut before they could hear any reply.

In the kitchen, Lucy sucked the cheese of the pacifier before pulling it from her lips. She was astounded at Kylie’s behavior. Astounded and intrigued.

“Penny?”

“Yes, Lucy?”

“Is that normal?”

“Is what normal?”

“How she was acting. Is that normal?”

“It’s normal for good little girls that don’t get in trouble.”

“I see.” Lucy grabbed the spoon and scooped up a few noodles. She chewed them slowly, thinking things over. Penny cleaned up the cups used for tea and the high chair that Kylie sat in.

“Penny?”

“Uh huh.”

“Is that what I’m supposed to do?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“I...I don’t want to be punished anymore.”

“And I don’t want to punish you. It's something I have to do, when you deserve it, but I get no pleasure from seeing you like that.”

“I want to be better.”

“Then don’t fight me on things.”

“If I don’t, can I see Kylie again?”

“That’s up to you. If you are a good girl, then good things will happen, like seeing Kylie.”

“Okay. I will be good.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Finish up your lunch so I can change you.”

“Then can I watch some TV?”

“As long as I approve of what you are watching.”

“So we can compromise?”

“Yes. Give and take. If you accept the rules, then your life will get infinitely easier.”

“Promise?”

“I don’t make promises. But remember what I said. You are going back to being a baby.”

“Like Kylie?”

“Similar, but not quite. Kylie is a toddler, able to do some things herself. You need to go back to basics before you can get to that point.”

“Basics? Like being spoon fed and drinking from bottles?”

“Yes. Without the fight.”

Lucy thought for a moment, remembering how it felt to have Kylie feed her. She looked at Penny and then at her bowl. She thought about where she could be if she hadn’t fought so much, about how happy Kylie was, and how she wanted that.

She held out the spoon to Penny. “I’m still hungry, Penny.”

Penny smiled and pulled up a chair, scooping the macaroni out and dumping it into Lucy’s mouth. Lucy let herself be fed, trying to get back to feeling how she did with Kylie. Something was missing and they both knew what it was, but they went through the

motions anyway and for the first time in a long time, Lucy was a good girl.

Part Eight: Freedom

Lori had a new outlook on her job. Her tour and talk with Moira had done a lot to open her eyes about her place within the company and just how small her personal issues were. The world was a much bigger place than she had thought and while she had been shown a glimpse of it, she had still no idea just how far the influence of the Institute spread.

As a small cog in the machine, Lori knew now that many things were beyond her influence now. All she could do is the task assigned to her and her best to not think about everything that she knew. Some things, like the warehouse, were harder to get out of her head, but in time, she had all but pushed it out of her mind. She excelled at her work, as she had approached it from a new perspective and because of such, she had flourished. Shannon had moved (been moved?) to another department and Lori inherited her office and position. Shannon’s old office was the best on the floor and allotted Lori a great deal of privacy. Now with a slew of her own underlings, she oversaw the decisions made by her old position. Everything was going quite well. Everyone under her command had taken to her leadership with respect and her department’s proficiency had improved. Emboldened by her success, Lori had taken her role as a matriarchal boss to a new level. She cared about her employees and did her best to solve their personal problems, or at least be understanding. To the vast majority of them, Lori was just a great, caring boss. But to Isaac, her old assistant, she was something else entirely.

Isaac Summers had fallen into his job by his own misgivings. As a young man, he had bounced from employer to employer for years, unable to find a job that he was good at, or that he liked. A solitary person, Isaac lived with his grandmother and did his best to keep to himself. A strict woman, Isaac’s grandmother was not overly fond of excuses or supporting a thirty-year-old man. Isaac did what he could to help out, mowing the lawn and contributing to the financial needs of his grandmother, but he could tell that she was growing tired of having him in her home.

His parents had divorced when he was a young teen. His mother had disappeared into the wind after the separation and his father had done his best to get back on his feet afterward. The separation was hard for him and he worked many long hours to support his son and the mounting alimony bills. On his way home from work one night, he was struck by a speeding car while sitting at a traffic light, dying on impact. Isaac’s care was awarded to his grandmother not long after and for the past sixteen years, he lived in her care. Abandoned by his parents, Isaac grew up feeling isolated and inadequate.

He had landed this job after his grandmother had finally had enough of his failures. She’d sent him to the Institute to beg for any sort of employment after losing his twelfth job due to middling performance. She had wanted him to be a janitor thinking that cleaning some toilets for a while would show him some sort of pride in the simplest things. Unable to do janitorial work to their specifications, he was reassigned to being a gopher, an office worker’s assistant, who did everything that they demanded. Too timid to stand up for himself, Isaac took all sorts of verbal abuse from everyone, especially the women.

When Ms. Gillis got promoted to Shannon’s old position, things got better for Isaac. The ridicule lessened and while he appeared to not miss it, he secretly wanted more of it. Any attention from the opposite sex was attention that he wasn’t getting any other time. He had never had a girlfriend or any girl that bothered to give him the time of day. He had cowered his way through high school, and in essence, his whole life. Constantly being told what to do, Isaac was lost without someone with a stronger personality in charge. Lost, and irritable.

“Isaac? Lori wants to see you in her office.” Sherry said. She was a nice lady, but not nearly as authoritative as Isaac was used to.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And for the last time, Isaac, stop calling me Ma’am. You’re older than me!” Sherry said, curtly. She was politer than she needed to be, but it couldn’t be helped.

Isaac headed for Lori’s office. It wasn’t the first time he had been called there, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. While part of him hated getting scolded, he also needed his life to have some form of validation. Even if all he could do was subpar or wrong, at least someone was paying attention to him.

“You needed to see me, Ma’am?” He asked, tentatively. He stood just at the threshold of her office.

“Yes, Isaac. Come in and have a seat.” Lori said, without looking up at him. She was busy typing away at her computer and like everyone else, paid him little mind. “Shut the door behind you.”

Isaac complied, knowing by her tone that he was in trouble again. He didn’t know how he was going to face his grandmother if he lost his job. She had already given him so many chances to get his life in order. He sat down at one of the two chairs that faced her desk and looked around the room. He hadn’t been in that office since it had been redecorated. The only windows the office had were behind Lori with a pleasant view of the city.

“Do you know why I called you in today, Mr. Summers?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Well, I’ve been going over your performance evaluation and looking at the notes from your other supervisors, coupled with the notes that I plan on adding. Do you want to hear some of them?”

“I-I guess.”

“Isaac, who has an exemplary attendance record, fails to meet all other expectations in every other field. It is, therefore, my opinion, that Mr. Summers would be best suited in another position.

“That was your custodial supervisor. Here is another.

“Mr. Summers works best when given point by point instruction, and, having no incentive or will of his own, operates more like a drone than a free-thinking member of this country.

“That was Shannon. Do I need to continue? I don’t. The point is, Isaac, that your performance is subpar in every aspect that matters. And while your obedience is commendable, your lack of demonstrable skills has led you to be less of an asset to this company than you should be given your time here.”

Isaac sat still, knowing full well what was coming. He’d been fired from enough jobs to know her next statement. So many in fact, that he knew when to cut them off at the pass. It helped him secure another job if he quit his job rather than being fired, at least as far as the paperwork goes.

“I’ll clean out my desk then.”

“Clean out your desk? And do what? Quit? Take the easy way out?”

“You are going to fire me. It works out better if I just quit.”

“I haven’t said anything about terminating your employment, nor do I approve of your carefree tone in the matter.”

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

“What I’m trying to do is get through to you that you are in serious jeopardy of losing your job if you continue on this path.”

“I understand, Ma’am.”

“Stop calling me that. And I don’t think you really understand. I don’t think that you really care and that’s a problem for me. I expect everyone who works for me to care about the job they do and how that job reflects on this department.”

“Sorry, Ma’am. I will do better.”

“Will you?” Lori stood up and began pacing around her room. “Do you know what is expected of you?”

“Doing what I’m told, Ma’am.”

“There is more to it than that, and even that I don’t think you understand.”

“I do, Ma’am.”

“But don’t you see? You don’t. I’ve told you already to stop calling me Ma’am , in fact, everyone in this department has, and yet, you persist. You’re like a child that doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no .”

“I’m just trying to be polite.”

“There’s a big difference between politeness and obedience. What you lack is obedience. You can do what you are directed to do when it comes to working, but not when it comes to verbal commands.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Are you really? Do you know what it’s like to be sorry? To be repentant for your actions?”

“I- I guess.”

“You don’t sound so sure. Have you ever been punished?”

“I’ve been fired before.”

“Not at work, at home. Have your parents ever punished you?”

“I live with my grandmother.”

“My question still stands.”

“I would have to say no, then. Most people just yell at me.”

“And therein is the problem. You tune people out when they yell or talk down to you because that’s all you know how to do. You’ve never been truly punished by your parents so you don’t have any concept of respect for authority. That’s something that can be fixed.”

“How?”

“By teaching you what repentance is. By giving you something to be sorry for.” “I don’t kno-”

“I don’t care. It’s this, or I file the termination papers right now, your choice. You need to start taking a stand in your life and face up to your choices. Finish out your day and, if you so choose, report to my office and we will go over this matter further.”

“After hours?”

“Yes. I have work to do and so do you. Make your copies, file your paperwork, do what you’re being paid to do. You’re dismissed.”

Isaac stood, his knees weak. He was used to being talked down to, but never had someone so completely controlled the direction of a conversation as Lori. He left her office, his hands trembling. He returned to his work, completely distracted, and didn’t notice anyone looking at him or taking notes. Had he been more aware, he might have been more prepared.

His shift ended and Isaac sat at his desk, unsure what to do. Part of him wanted to just go home and bury his head in the sand. The other wanted to see what lay beyond Lori’s words. As his supervisor, she was a domineeringly authoritative figure on any normal day, but today, she had been something out of dirty fantasy. No one knew about his collection of explicit materials hidden under his bed. DVDs, adult magazines, and even books of various sexual preferences lie in a box far under his bed that his grandma would never find. Everything he knew about sex was in there, but it all amounted to no real-world experience.

Sherry was the last one to leave. A newer employee, she wanted nothing more than to impress her bosses. She often worked late, filing as many folders as she could. She, at last, collected her purse and coat, doing one last scan of her cubicle to make sure that she hadn’t forgotten to do something before she headed for the elevator.

“Isaac? What are you still doing here?” He shrugged, unable to formulate words.       “Well, don’t stay too late or you will be in trouble with the boss. Goodnight!” Her perky tone did little to brighten his mood. As the elevator doors dinged closed and Sherry disappeared from sight, Isaac sighed.

He stood up from his desk, grabbed his things, and looked longingly at the door to Lori’s office. Whatever promise Lori may have to help him, he was too much of a coward to let anyone in. He walked to the elevator and pressed the down button. Sherry was on her way to the bottom floor, and his press bought him some time.

“Ahem!” Isaac froze. Lori’s voice, as crisp and sharp as ever, cut through him in an instant.

“Going somewhere?” She asked. He turned slowly to see her standing in the doorway to her office, her hands on her hips. He choked on the word home , unable to find the spine needed to deny her offer.

“I didn’t think so. March yourself over here right this instant.” Isaac’s legs were jelly. He could barely stand, much less walk.

“Do I have to collect you?” She demanded, relaxing her arms but rising to her full height. She wasn’t taller than him, but her presence was. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked over to him. He felt his body cower as her presence got closer and he let out a small whimper when she stopped in front of him.

“I thought as much. You are nothing but a scared little boy who has been coddled by everyone for far too long. That ends tonight.” She grabbed his ear and pulled him to her office. He dropped his things along the way as he clawed at her arm. Her grip was unbreakable and she pulled with no remorse. In her office, she snapped her fingers and pointed to a corner of the room. “Go, and stand until I say otherwise, and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you!”

He looked at her in disbelief until she took a fistful of his hair and pushed him by the head until his nose was pressed into the corner. He whimpered again, unsure what was going on. He wanted to run, to cry, to do something, but he couldn’t move. She gave his head a shove into the corner and left him to stand there. He heard the click of her heels retreat and the creak of her sitting down at her desk.

“Of all the things you have to explain, I didn’t expect this. But I guess that I shouldn’t be surprised. Dirty boys will always be dirty boys.”

“I-”

“Shut it! I didn’t say that you could talk! But since you are in such a good mood to listen, then you can listen to this. I got a voicemail today. Can you guess from who? Someone found your dirty little secret. It turns out that your grandmother doesn’t take too kindly to this kind of filth being hidden in her house.

“So tell me, is it Pussylickers Volume 3 or Hardcore Boss Bitches that gets you off the most?”

Isaac stiffened at the names of the videos that he had kept under his bed. He had never imagined that his grandmother would find them, much less that she would tell anyone else about them. The only way she would know what they were would be if she found them, and watched them. He shuddered at the thought of his grandma watching his porn.

“And what about this, Panty Wearing Pussies Series Ten. Ten! This implies that there are at least nine others in this series! Is that what you are? A panty wearing pussy? Do you get off wearing women’s underwear? Or is that the only way you get off?

“The point here, Isaac, is that your grandmother is most displeased with you and your sick habits. She sent me these in hopes that I can talk to you about being more discreet. And if I can’t, then she wants you to move out of her home and take your filth with you. So we need to find a way to elicit some real change from you and judging by your taste, we have a long way to go.

“Or maybe we don’t. Maybe what you really need is to have your sick little fantasies brought to life. Would you like that?”

Isaac shook his head, more terrified of being homeless than of Lori.

“Do I need to be a hardcore boss bitch for you?” He heard her stand up from her chair and the click of her heels on the floor.

“I don’t even know what a hardcore boss bitch is, but I’m sure I can find out. Let me google it real quick.”

Isaac shook his head harder, more frantic. Even a simple search would lead to a rabbit hole of women dominating men in an office setting, much like now.

“Oh. Oh! Oh my. So this is what gets you off, isn’t it?” She played a video clip, one he knew well, of a woman talking down to a sniveling man and slapping his face every time he tried to deny her questions.

“This isn’t it? This doesn’t do anything for you? What about these panty pussies? What’s that all about?” She switched to another video of a man being told to put on various articles of women’s clothing, from brassieres to corsets and a multitude of panties.

“This one isn’t so bad. Everyone plays dress-up at least once in their lives. Usually, boys grow out of it quicker than girls, but hey, I’m not here to judge. Though, I’m not sure what makes these people pussies.” She paused for a second, and Isaac tensed up. He knew what was coming and he could feel her reaction before she said anything. “I guess that would do it, then.

And it brings us along neatly to the last one.”

She was right behind him, and he could practically feel her breathing on the back of his neck.

“So it all comes down to this, huh? Turns out that your lofty goal in life is to be a panty wearing pussy licker. Personally, I’m not too fond of the term pussy, it’s a crass, vulgar term, normally used by filthy little boys who want to fit in with their social group. But that’s me. And we aren’t here to talk about me.

“Which leaves me to wonder what am I supposed to do about all of this? Your grandmother sounds like she is at her wit's end and judging by what she’s discovered, I don’t exactly blame her. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Isaac was numb and dizzy. What Lori didn’t know, and Isaac couldn’t believe, was how aroused he was. He was rock hard and more embarrassed by this fact than other things he should be. He wasn’t prepared for her to grab his ear and spin him around.

She looked at him with amused disgust. Even with him trying to cover his groin, he only brought her attention to his situation. He flushed red with what little blood he had left in his face.

Her hand still grasping his ear, any attempt he made to turn away from her was pointless.

“Trying to hide your shame? Why? What do you have to hide? Or are you embarrassed by the confirmation of your sick desires?

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t think about the consequences of your actions. You just do, relying on your base impulses, and with no concern for how your actions could affect others.”

She pulled him over to her desk and pulled his face towards the tablet laying on her desk.

“Look at the amount of filth you have! Look at it! Your degenerate urges and desires will leave you homeless, unemployed, and worthless. Is that what you want? Is that what you are? Just a purveyor of filth?”

“N-n-no….”

“Then what?”

“I-I don’t-”

“You don’t know? What do you know? Is this what you like? Looking at women like this? As tools for you to please yourself? Is that how you look at me? Do you think about me like this? Bossing you around or making you wear women’s underwear? And don’t even get me started on the last thing. I doubt you have any idea or experience on how to do that.” Frustrated, Lori let go of his ear and threw her hands up in frustration. “And now, because of all of this, I have to figure out how to have you on my team and in my employ. How am I supposed to trust you or anything you do when your head is filled with all of this degenerate filth. I can’t have you walking around thinking about all of your coworkers like they are portrayed in these so called films. So what am I to do? I could fire you and validate your grandmother’s view of you, or find a way to make all of this work.”

Isaac stood there, his hands on Lori’s desk, unable to think of anything beyond the lecturing. Everything had gone far too fast for him. Cornered, exposed, and humiliated, Isaac was lost. He was numb except for the pounding of his heart, which thudded so hard that he felt his body shake. He was crippled by his weakness and was hanging on Lori’s every word. His fate was in her hands and even with his world falling apart, he was wondering how he was going to face his grandmother.

“I’ve reached a decision. Since your limited, degrading view of women is so unacceptable, we are going to have to do something a bit more drastic. It’s Thursday, so for tonight, we will keep this to ourselves. Tomorrow night, I want you to bring all of this filth to my house. Every last bit of it! It will get it out of your grandmother’s house and prove to me that you want this job and to be a better man.”

“Ummm. Okay?”

“You don’t sound so assured, but trust me, young man, you will be. Now compose yourself and get out of my sight!”

Isaac fumbled to gather himself and his stuff before rushing out of Lori’s office and to the elevator. Nothing had really happened other than the verbal humiliation and yet, as he hid away in his room later that night, he couldn’t get the night’s events out of his head.

He couldn’t face Lori the next day. Not directly. Whenever she talked to him, he always looked down or away. He couldn’t admit to his shame, couldn’t admit to masturbating to the thought of Lori berating him, or how intense his release was. He kept his eyes down when around any of his female coworkers as well. He didn’t know if Lori had said anything to them but he couldn’t take the chance of exposing himself to them. Every time he had thought about being put into the corner like some child, he got aroused and once aroused, he blushed every time he was around a woman.

In the trunk of his car was every last bit of the filth that Lori demanded that he bring. He didn’t know what was going to happen when she saw the extent of it but he knew that it was going to change the way he lived his life. He debated keeping some of it. Hiding it away better and not being so obvious about it, but change wasn’t going to accept shortcuts. He needed to go through with it, no matter what.

The day passed slowly for him and he started to dread each hour that went by. Fear crept into his mind. Fear and excitement. He could think of nothing but the possibilities and hoped that she hadn’t forgotten. She hadn’t acknowledged anything that had happened the night before or had reminded him of what she had said. By lunch, he had started to feel rejected, that was until he returned to his desk to find a note taped to his monitor. It didn’t say anything and he was wondering if someone was playing tricks on him until he turned the Post-It over to see an address written on the back and the words Don’t be late!

Isaac Summers stood on the porch with the box in his arms. He was trembling. He had just pressed the doorbell and was nervously glancing around to make sure that no one saw him or what he had in the box. He didn’t know what compelled him to do what she had said, but he was starting to get cold feet at the whole idea and just as he turned to go back to his car, the door swung open.

“Ahh, just in time. Come in!” Lori was still in her work clothes, holding a glass of wine. “Is that all of your filth?”

Isaac stumbled on his words and more on his steps, but he did manage to nod. He stepped into her house and the door shut with a resounding thud, sealing his fate.

“Bring it in here.” She said, swirling her glass of wine, and leading him into the living room. “Let’s see it all, then.”

“All?”

“Yes. All. I want to see every little bit of your sick desires. I need you to know the extent of your depravity. So pull it all out and show it to me.”

Isaac set the box down and rifled through it. He didn’t know where to start or what to say about each item. He figured that he could start with the movies. At least the ones she knew about.

“Yes. Yes. The videos. We know all about those, don’t we? And what is it that you hope to get out of them now? Hmm? They can’t all be as good as the real thing, right?’ Isaac shrugged.

“Or is it that you don’t know what the real thing is, so you have nothing to compare it to?

I guess I should let the cat out of the bag, then, shouldn’t I? I know exactly what’s in that box, Isaac. Your grandmother was very thorough. And more importantly, I know the bits that you don’t want me to see. Like the red ones. What were they? Satin? Polyester like? What did you have to go through to get those I wonder? Did you buy them yourself, or did you order them off the internet?

“It doesn't matter. What matters is what we are going to do about all of this. I spent most of last night thinking about it and I think that I have an idea. You see, you aren’t the first troubled young person that I’ve had to deal with, but your case is different. Sexual deviance is a completely different beast to behavior problems.

“As I’ve said before, what you lack is discipline. You seem to think that you can behave a certain way and that there will be no repercussions, but you are wrong. I will not allow, or tolerate you viewing women in such a way, is that understood?”

“Is what I’m doing so wrong? It doesn’t hurt anyone. I watch this stuff in the privacy of my room and I treat everyone I see with respect, so what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is that you have a very twisted and shallow view of women. You view these things and think that this is the normal way to look at things. At us. At me.”

“I don’t-”

“Furthermore, I think that your proclivity for certain behaviors is troublesome.”

“What do you mean?”

“To be frank, how can you know what it’s like to service a woman if you’ve never been with a woman? You watch these things and look at these magazines and you think you know what it would be like to have these things happen to you in real life. And in doing so, you assume that you would know how to handle yourself should it really happen and that’s simply not the case.”

“Says you.” Isaac said indignantly.

“Yes. Says me. And I can prove it. You seem to like authoritative women bossing you around, but do you really know what it's like to be bossed around?”

“I thin-”

“Go put those panties on right now!” Lori barked. “The red one’s! What are you looking at? Do you need instructions?!”

Isaac stood there, stammering. He didn’t know how to react or what to do. He couldn’t tell if she was serious. Her tone and delivery sounded serious, but he couldn’t tell for sure.

“See what I mean?” Lori asked, sipping her wine. “I gave you a direct order, one that I’m sure you’ve fantasized about, and you just stood there like a deer caught in headlights.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Did I not sound serious? Did I not say exactly what you wanted to hear? In a way that you wanted to hear it? Or do I need to call you a panty wearing bitch who’s about five seconds from getting your ass beat?” Her voice grew stern at the last bit as she rose to her feet. Isaac was frozen in position as his boss walked purposefully towards him. She kicked the box over, spilling its contents. She spread it all out with her foot until she found the red panties that she was looking for.

“There they are. Pick them up like the good little bitch you are. Go on.” Lori said, pointing at the undergarment on the floor. “I don’t have all night.”

Isaac didn’t move. He couldn’t move. It was all too unreal for him, but it became real all too quickly when Lori downed the last of her wine. She set her glass down with measured control before grabbing Isaac by the ear and letting loose all of her pent up frustrations.

“I don’t remember giving you a choice! Your hesitation is perhaps the most irritating thing about you! So let’s fix that, shall we?” She pulled him down to the floor by his ear and pointed her finger at the panties on the floor. He reached for them, his arms shaking in fear and intimidation.

“You have a lot to learn, young man. A lot to learn!” She pulled him by the ear to her bedroom.

She was lost in the moment, not thinking about anything but Isaac and the stirring in her loins. She took her time with him, making him strip naked while she berated him for being aroused. She made him slowly pull the red panties up to his waist while making him tell her how much he liked to wear women’s underwear. She made him apologize for being such a sniveling little wuss and made him beg her for his punishment. She pulled him over her knee and spanked him, first with her bare hand, then with her hairbrush. She wailed on him until his skin matched the color of his panties and he was sobbing in her lap. Content that he had been thoroughly punished, she laid back on her bed, hiked up her skirt, and enjoyed the next few hours of his tongue pleasing her. She kept her fingers locked in his hair and directed him with ridicule and scorn, keeping with his desires of being humiliated by bossy older women.  When she was finally seated, she tossed a pillow on the floor and pointed him to it. She didn’t give him a blanket or anything. She just rolled over and went to sleep, years of pent up sexual frustration being released in one long moment was exhausting.

That was three weeks ago.

Lorianne Gillis finished scanning the document in her hands. She read it over one last time, making sure that she had worded everything in the most professional manner. It wasn’t the first time she had tendered her resignation, but this time, it was far more personal. Moving on from job to job hadn’t been that big of a deal, but when she had to admit her own faults, she took it harder.

Her guilt had overwhelmed her. For the past three weeks, she had been using and abusing Isaac as her personal sex slave. He spent most of his free time at Lori’s, answering her every beck and call. No matter how well he behaved or served, she always had some reason to punish him and he loved it. He would do things wrong on purpose, either at her house or work in order to get a response out of her. He loved it, every degrading and humiliating aspect of it. She would watch the porn he had for ideas and feed into his fantasies, using them for future punishments.

Her conscience caught up to her though, as it was becoming more and more obvious to their coworkers that there was some form of relationship going on. She knew that it had to end and that she needed to take responsibility. It was her fault, after all, and she had to bear the consequences, hence the letter of resignation.

The office was empty. It was late on a Thursday night. She had sent an email to Moira requesting a meeting. She felt that it would be best to state her case before turning in her resignation. She left her office and headed for the elevator. The way to Moira’s office was automatic in her mind.

Before she knew it, she was knocking on the inner door to Moira’s office, paper in hand.

“Come in.” Moira’s voice sounded through the elegant wood.

Lori entered the office and promptly sat down in one of the available chairs. Moria was typing away at her keyboard. When she was finished, she turned away from the screen to address Lori.

“Good evening Lori, how are we doing today?”

“I...I’m..uh...good. I guess.”

“Oh? You don’t sound that convinced.”

“I am...it’s just that there have been some recent developments that I need to notify you about.”

“Recent developments?”

Lori handed the paper to Moira, who took her time to read it. Lori had worded it well, covering the pertinent information without overexplaining the situation. Moira was stone faced as she read, her years of managing people had taught her to be hard and unemotional. She neared the end of the paper and set it down on her desk.

“This is certainly some form of development.”

“I do have to apologize for my indiscretions.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary.”

Lori was taken aback, completely caught off guard. “I beg your pardon.”

“This paper, while well worded, is pointless. I do not accept your resignation.”

“But I violated who knows how many rules and regulations.”

“According to who?”

“I’m sorry. Isn’t there a rule about fraternization among employees?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“I’m afraid that you have me at a disadvantage here. I’m trying to resign from my position due to grossly abhorrent behavior.”

“And as I’ve stated before, I don’t accept.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew that this would happen. Well, not this exactly, but something like this. That was the point of the tour so long ago. I needed you to find a way to break the ice, so to speak. To awaken yourself, so that you can finally begin to heal.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple really. Ever since we met, I’ve been watching your progress, as I’ve been watching your daughter’s. You both have needed a way to express yourself and you, specifically, needed to see the other side of your mother/ daughter dynamic.

“While you have come to me, shoulders weighted with guilt, you have mirrored the journey that your daughter went on. She had something that you deemed perverse and unacceptable. She brought it to you for you to understand and help her through her journey, but you couldn’t accept what she had become, or what she needed, and so you turned your back on her. Likewise, you have come to me, bathed in your guilt, but instead of wanting acceptance from me, you expect rejection, and here is where the cycle of blame and abandonment needs to stop.

“I accept that you have found the means of unlocking your inhibitions and finding a new calling. Emasculating young Isaac for your own sexual pleasure has given you an outlet for all of your pent up sexual rage.

“So look upon yourself, Lori, and see what you have become. The world is a much larger place than you knew, and the road to self-discovery is fraught with inner turmoil. Would you want your daughter to turn away from you, knowing what you’ve done? Would you prefer her nose be turned up at the thought of your happiness? Will you be able to sleep at night with that level of disapproval? Can you accept that the way things were simply won’t work for you anymore?”

Moira handed Lori back her resignation.

“Take the weekend to think about it. Reflect on things. Acceptance leads to       Redemption. Accept who you were, who you have become, and who you shall be. Only then can you find the peace you have been searching for and only then, can you truly repair your relationship with Kylie.”

Part Nine: Reward

Penny Carver moved around her room in silence. Going from drawer to closet, she packed her suitcase for the weekend of conferences that were coming. While she always exclaimed that she was taking advanced courses to further her career, it was a lie. She neatly lay two nightgowns into the case, folded neatly, like everything else was. While most of her attire was to be expected, her lingerie was not. Overtly sexual, her thongs, crotchless, and edible panties were not things she would normally take on business trips, nor would her goodies bag. Her bag, filled with lubes, vibrators, clamps, and various other adult oriented tools for intimate pleasure. The cuffs, whips, and insertables were for added excitement, but for Penny, was just the normal. Her conferences, for the lack of better term, were weekend retreats for BDSM events. She had a very popular website where she sold her pornographic material. It had started as a means to supplement her income and fulfill some of her dark desires, but it had quickly turned into a second job, one she enjoyed more than her current job.

Being a caregiver had its own rewards and perks. She was allowed to practice her dominating tactics, with great restraint, but it didn’t have the financial potential that her more adult themed works did. She was debating resigning from the Institute, or at least from the B.A.B.Y. branch, and move over to another department more fitting of her tastes. She liked both, however, and it left her undecided. The domination of regressing someone to an infantile state was a hell of a rush, but she was limited by her methods and severity. While in another branch, she could go all out, it lacked the hands on personal touch of being a caregiver. Stuck between both, she lived one life in secret, while pretending the other.

Penny had made arrangements for Lucy to spend the weekend with Donna. It was unorthodox, but they had developed a good system. Penny relied on Donna’s trained opinion on her clients, as Donna’s degrees helped her better determine if Penny’s efforts were making progress. While close friends, Donna wasn’t willing to discuss Penny’s proclivities for abnormal sexual desires. Penny appreciated the gesture, once telling Donna that she wanted a friend, not a shrink.

She still had to go upstairs and pack Lucy’s bag. She hadn’t told Lucy yet that she was going to spend the weekend with Kylie. She wanted to see how Lucy would behave without a reward and she had been seriously surprised. After Donna and Kylie’s visit, Lucy had made great attempts to alter her behavior in order to be better behaved. She still had some things she was resistant to, all of which revolved around being changed, but the rest was slowly falling into place. Penny had been in contact with Donna about Lucy’s progress and they both agreed that Lucy was close to full regression. She needed a push, a trigger, to get her to fully accept the program. They both hoped that the trigger would be more time with Kylie Penny headed upstairs and into the nursery. Lucy was still asleep in her crib. The young girl seemed to get much more sleep when not restrained. It was an obvious deduction, but one that Lucy herself needed to realize. Penny had stopped forcing Lucy into the straightjacket but the mittens, collar, and ankle restraints stayed. They were a fail safe, one that Penny didn’t want to ever have to use.

She pulled a diaper bag out of the closet and began packing diapers into it. While the wipes, powder, and creams were things that Donna would have in ready supply, it was just polite to send diapers with a baby when someone else was taking care of them. Donna didn’t have any baby food, but she knew enough to stick within the guidelines of Lucy’s program.

As Penny packed the diaper bag full of diapers and a few restraints, she heard the soft rustling of her baby waking up. Lucy always seemed to whine whenever she woke up and found herself in the same place and position. Today was no different. Lucy whined a little as she came to terms with her situation but quickly settled down. The whining was abating with each passing day, but it was still there.

Penny turned to face Lucy, watching the girl groggily stir into alertness. She looked down at the state of her diaper and whimpered. She was wetting more frequently at night and in larger volumes. The psychological impact of regression was still something that was being debated, but the manifestation of accepting one’s fate was another.

“Good morning, Lucy. How did you sleep?”

“Tch. Fine, I guess.”

“Are we cranky today?”

“I...I’m wet. Wetter than I was before.”

“You did sleep longer last night than before, it’s only natural that you would have to go more.”

“I didn’t even know that I had to go this bad. I’m practically leaking. I think I’m losing control.”

“That’s to be expected. It’s part of the program.”

“But I don’t get it. I don’t understand how this is happening.”

“You’re comfortable. When you're comfortable, your body tends to do what comes naturally.”

“Wetting myself is natural? That doesn’t make any sense! What’s next?”

“I think you know what’s next.”

Lucy’s face paled and she glanced down at her diaper. “You mean? I’ll...do that too?”

“Yes. In time. But that’s under extreme circumstances. We don’t want to get to that point as it’s very difficult to return control once it’s been lost.”

“I can avoid that?”

“Yes, if you continue progressing the way you have. Speaking of which, I have a little surprise for you. I have to go away for the weekend so I have arranged for you to stay with someone for a few days.”

“Kylie?!”

“It’s a surprise. I’m going to drop you off later today so that I can catch my flight. If you are a good girl for me today, I’ll take you there sooner.” “Okay!” Lucy exclaimed, excitedly sitting up.

“Good. Let’s get you changed and find some breakfast. I expect you to need a change before your bath. And you know what I’m talking about.”

“Uhh...okay…” Lucy said, her excitement waning. Penny was expecting her to mess herself, practically on command.

“Marvelous. I’ve finished packing your diaper bag and we can pick out a cute little outfit for you. So hop out of that crib and onto the changing table.” Penny lowered the bars and helped Lucy get situated on the changing table. The mittens made it difficult for Lucy to do much on her own.

Lucy twitched at being changed, like she normally did, but Penny didn’t press the issue. She wasn’t sure what was going on with the girl, but she knew that she wasn’t skilled enough to figure it out. Lucy would have to admit it to herself first, and then the world. She wasn’t ready for that yet.

Cleaned and crisp, Lucy crawled downstairs behind Penny. She hated being degraded in such a way, but she wasn’t being led by the collar today, so it was a small victory. She sat unrestrained in the high chair and didn’t object to being spoon fed fiber enriched oatmeal. While she was supposed to eat and drink like a baby, she was fed proportions that fit her adult sized. When Penny wasn’t looking, Lucy attempted to do what she was expected to do. It was difficult, extremely so, for her to consciously try to soil herself, but she was willing to do pretty much anything to spend a weekend away from Penny.

Her stomach hurt from all the attempts, but by the time Penny announced that it was time for Lucy’s bath, she had been successful. She hated having been reduced to someone who obeyed commands like that and forcing herself to do something so sordid was revolting. But the carrot had been dangled in front of her and it wasn’t the first time she had done something unseemly for personal gain.

Penny was amused at Lucy’s attempts. Her submission to Penny’s demands was a good sign, Lucy had been broken. She let Lucy crawl to the bathtub, taking the lead. It was an act of cruelty and dominance when Penny grasped the mess through the diaper and smashed it into Lucy’s bottom, causing the young girl grimace in disgust.

The bath went well. Even as Lucy pouted, she didn’t fight back or resist. She was diapered on the bathroom floor, allowed to brush her teeth with one hand out of the mittens, before having to crawl back upstairs to be dressed. Penny dressed her in a pink bonnet, and white and pink baby dress that barely hung down to Lucy’s waist, a pair of frilly panties, large enough to cover her diaper, and white socks with pink frills. Lucy both looked, and felt ridiculous, but she didn’t say anything. Inside, she was seething, but outside, she was as calm as she could be. She kept telling herself that it would all be worth it in the end. She was going to be away from Penny and all the degradation, if even for a weekend, and that was all that mattered.

Penny slung the diaper bag over her shoulder and led Lucy back down the stairs. Lucy hadn’t noticed, but earlier that morning, Penny had pulled out a very public form of humiliation and shame. Looking absurdly huge, the stroller was large enough for Lucy’s frame. Only about twice the size of a normal stroller, it was heavily reinforced to endure an adults weight. A company unconnected to the Institute had designed an adult stroller, a garishly gigantic abomination that wasn’t economical at all. Moira had ordered one, sent it to her R&D department, and ordered it shrunk to be more manageable. Like the car seats, high chairs, and training potty, shrinking it was a matter of using stronger materials and practical use in mind. Plastic wheels were replaced with air filled rubber, the frame was replaced by high strength aluminum tubing. While the added size and bulk was difficult to manage, it’s worth as a regressive tool was unmatched for social outings.

“What’s that?” Lucy asked, apprehensive.

“What does it look like?”

“A really big stroller.”

“You are correct.”

“And you want me to ride in that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Umm, does it cover my face?”

“Does it need to?”

“I would like it to.”

“It can, under one condition.”

Lucy sighed, expecting some humiliation beyond anything that she’d experienced yet.

“What is it?”

“This.” Penny said, pulling a strange looking pacifier out from the diaper bag. “See? I can put little candies or fruits in here and you can suck on it, giving you the flavor of a treat without the risk of you choking on it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. You’ve been such a good girl lately, that I thought you deserved a treat.”

“Really?” Lucy said, sounding hopeful. “What’s in it?”

“Chunks of strawberry. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“Strawberries are fine.” Lucy said, crawling up into the stroller. Penny smiled at Lucy as she buckled the girl in place. Lucy let Penny push the pacifier into her mouth. She laid back, sucking on it as Penny extended the sun guard, blocking Lucy’s face from anyone who wasn’t directly kneeling in front of her.

“Let’s get you to the babysitters!” Penny exclaimed, entering her code to open the door. She pushed the stroller out into the daylight and with the diaper bag over her shoulder, she pushed Lucy down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. Lucy tried her best not to think of all the people who might see her. The bright sunlight was warm on her bare legs. She needed to shave but knew that such things were beyond her now.

Penny didn’t acknowledge anyone, much to Lucy’s surprise. She wondered briefly if there was no one out there for Penny to talk to but she wasn’t brave enough to check. She knew how she looked and she didn’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to herself.

They didn’t go far, or at least it didn’t feel far, before Penny steered the stroller up a driveway. Wherever she was going, it was at least close to Penny’s house. Penny locked the wheels on the stroller and knocked on the door. The door opened and unfortunately, Lucy was unable to see who was at the door. There wasn’t any talking between Penny and whomever was in the house and within moments, Penny was pushing Lucy into the house. Lucy tried looking around to see where she was or who she was with, but couldn’t tell much beyond the fact that the TV was one playing some old Nickelodeon show. Lucy was starting to get concerned until a voice rang out from down the hall.

“Mommy!!! I’m ready to get out!!!”

“Just a minute, baby, Mommy is talking to Penny.”

The shrill shriek that echoed down the hall was near deafening. “Lucy!!!!! Are you there,

Lucy?!!”

Lucy about leaped out of her stroller and would have if not for being buckled in. She flung her pacifier to the floor and tried to push the cover back so that she could see.

Kylie kept screaming in excitement, impatiently waiting for Donna to get her out of the tub.       “Mommy?! Are you coming?! I want out! I want out! Pwease?!!!”

Donna chuckled and spoke to Penny. “You get yours and I’ll get mine?”

Penny nodded and Donna headed for the bathroom. Lucy was trying to undo the buckles with her mittened hands when Penny slapped them away to do it herself. Nearly free, Lucy was getting impatient until Penny grabbed her chin with her steel like grip, forcing Lucy to stop and pay attention.

“I am only going to say this once, so listen up. You will be on your best behavior for Donna this weekend. I’m talking perfect little angel, or so help me, you will spend the next week in your cage with your ass so red you won’t be able to sit down. Am I understood?”

Lucy paled and nodded slowly. Penny was scary when she talked like that and a week in the cage was near unfathomable torture.

“You will be the best little baby in the world or you will never see Kylie again.” Lucy nodded again, tears forming at the edge of her eyes.

“Good!” Penny said, her tone going back to the bubbly fake voice that she used around Donna.

“Let’s get you out of there. Do you need a change? Turn around and let me check.”

“I don’t need-”

“Hush now.” Penny said, turning Lucy around and pulling at the back of her diaper. She leaned towards Lucy and whispered in her ear. “Don’t push me, little girl.”

“S-sorry Penny.” Lucy stammered. She was still dry but it was the show of dominance that Penny was going for.

She pushed it out of her mind as Penny moved to the side as thudding footsteps headed for Lucy. Lucy was barely able to turn around before the topless Kylie slammed into her, wrapping her in a big hug.

“I was barely able to put her diaper on before she wiggled out of my grip.” Donna said to Penny.

“Kylie, you need a shirt sweety.”

Kylie was still clamped onto Lucy, who was struggling to breathe. Donna grabbed her by the arm and peeled her off of Lucy. She had a bunched up shirt in her other hand and she pushed it over Kylie’s head. She fed Kylie’s arms through it and pulled it down the girl’s waist. It was a onesie and she had to push Kylie’s legs apart to get it snapped.

“I'm so happy to see you, Lucy! Wait till you see my room. We can play dollies and watch      TV and have the bestest time ever!!”

“I can see that someone is excited to have a friend over. I brought Lucy’s diaper bag. I didn’t want you to burn through your supplies.” Penny said.

“Oh, thank you. I have plenty of diapers but you know how babies are, could go through four or five one day, ten the next.”

“C’mon Lucy, let’s go play!” Kylie pulled on Lucy’s arm. Lucy stood firm and looked at Penny.

“Can I go play with Lucy?”

“Yes you may.”

Lucy took two steps before Penny snapped her fingers. Lucy froze, clenched her teeth, and fell to the floor on all floors. She was too excited to play with Kylie to remember the rules. Babies crawl, not walk. She crawled after Kylie, trying to get away from Penny as fast as possible.

“She will be in good hands, Penny.”

“I know. It’s just one of those things where she needs to be reminded of her place.”

“You think that crawling is really necessary?”

“I think that it reminds her of her place, just like the diapers.” “There is a line between reminding and punishment.”

“Yes, and I’ll be the judge of when she needs to be pushed.”

“Okay. It’s your call, but just be mindful of creating a rebellion. You will lose all the work you have put in.”

“I’m sure that I’ll be fine. Anyway, I think that I’ll leave the stroller here, just in case you need it and I will be back to pick her up on Sunday. You will let me know if you have any troubles, right?”

“Of course, but only if I think that it’s necessary. My house, my rules, and all of that.”

“Fair enough. Well, I need to head back to the house to grab my suitcases. My flight is in a few hours and I don’t want to get stuck in line.”

“Have a safe flight and a good weekend. Relax and unwind. I’m sure that I can handle things from here.”

“I hope so. Lucy can be a handful.”

“Won’t know if you keep loitering around. Get out of here, Penny, and enjoy your weekend.”

“Thanks again for watching her. I’m overdue for some R&R.” Penny gave Donna a quick hug and was out the door. Lucy watched Penny walk down the street at a brisk pace from the window in Kylie’s nursery. When Penny turned the corner and was out of sight, Lucy could finally let out a sigh of relief.

Kylie, who was still too excited to see Lucy, hadn’t been paying attention. She was too busy talking about all of the things in her room. She had many of the same things that Lucy had, but they were far more interesting now than they had ever been. Lucy was tensed up, still staring out the window when Kylie tapped her cheek with a stuffed duck.

“This is Quackers. He’s my best friend in the whole wide world. He keeps me safe from the bogeyman who lives under the crib.”

“Wha? Huh? Oh. Your duck. That’s cool. I don’t have a stuffed animal of my own. Kinda grew out of them when I was a little girl.”

“You are still a little girl, silly, and we are going to have so much fun together!”

“Yeah, sure. Lots of fun.” Lucy said despondent. She turned away from the window and looked at the room she was in. From one nursery to another, not much had changed, except for Kylie’s beaming face.

“What’s wrong, Lucy? Don’t you want to have fun with me?” Kylie asked, trying to get Lucy to smile.

“It’s not you.” Lucy said, fumbling with her mittens. “It’s Penny.”

Donna had just gotten to the top of the stairs when she heard Lucy talking and the hurt in the young girl’s voice.

“I hate her.” Lucy continued. “I’ve tried to do what you said. You know? I play along and I don’t fight and nothing ever seems to be good enough. Even today. Everything started off good but she just has to get that last jab in. Making me crawl in front of you and threatening me with the cage if I don’t behave while I’m here.”

“Cage? What cage?”

“It’s a dog crate that she keeps in the backroom. She puts me in it when I’m not doing what I’m told. It’s super uncomfortable. And I hate it. What does treating me like a dog have to do with therapy? I’m not some kind of furry or something that gets off on that shit. I’m a human being! No one in their right mind would put a baby in one of those. A real baby, not someone like you or me.”

“That’s terrible!”

“And you know what she told me a while ago? That all of this could be so much worse. The gags, the straightjacket, and the restraints? That’s all easy stuff. They have a way to make a person be truly helpless and it’s near permanent! And I think that bitch would try to do that to me! I don’t get why she has to be so cruel.”

“I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s hers. And my dad’s. Everyone keeps trying to tell me who or what I should be. No one wants to listen to me anymore!”

“I’ll listen. I’m listening now. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Mommy and she will talk to Penny.”

“Don’t you get it? Donna is with them. She’s a part of it all and don’t think for a second that she wouldn’t do the same to you!”

“She would never! Mommy loves me!”

“Kylie, you need to wake up. They don’t love us. We are a job to them. A task. A paycheck. When this is all over, they won’t even remember our names.”

“Nuh uh. That’s not true. Donna cares for me.”

Lucy scoffed. “She takes care of you. She doesn’t care for you.”

“Dont’ talk bad about Donna! She actually cares about me, she’s the only one that ever has!”

“And how sad is that? How fucked are we that the only people that want to care about us are the ones that are paid to?”

Sensing that the conversation was going to get too heated, too quickly, Donna rounded the corner and stood in the doorway.

“Lucy, I want you to know that I don’t care for Kylie because I’m paid to. I care for Kylie because I want to. I’m sorry that you are having such a hard time with Penny, and let me assure you that I will be having words with her about using dog kennels as a punishment. But I do have to step in and put a stop to this conversation. You are upsetting Kylie and are upset yourself. While it’s normal to have these feelings, they are detrimental to your care.”

“Like anyone cares about me or my care.”

“I do, Lucy.” Kylie said between sniffles. “I care.”

“Why? Why would either of you care about me?”

“Because I want you to be my friend.” Kylie replied. “And friends don’t say mean things like that.”

“Stop acting like such a baby.” Lucy retorted.

“I am a baby!” Kylie snapped, “And in case you missed the memo, you are too!”

“And both of you are in need of a nap.” Donna said, stepping into the room, her aura stamping down any further dissent. “Lucy, let’s get you into the crib. Kylie, you can sleep in the room downstairs. I don’t want you girls fighting anymore.” “But I don’t want to take a nap!” Kylie said.

“And I will remind you to read the rules on the wall, little girl.” Donna said with commanding authority. “Now, Lucy, how about we put a smile on your face and take those mittens off?”

Lucy looked at Donna flabbergasted. “Y-you mean it?”

“Certainly, with one caveat. You will read and follow my rules.” Donna pointed to the large letters on the wall.

Lucy looked around Kylie to the wall, but knew immediately what Donna meant. “I will leave my diaper alone, Donna.”

“Good. That’s all I ask. You will find that I’m a lot easier to get along with that Penny is. So crawl up into the crib.”

Lucy dropped to all fours to crawl to the crib and stopped when Kylie and Donna looked at her perplexed.

“She didn’t mean literally. You can walk when you are here.” Kylie joked.

Lucy looked up at Donna, who simply nodded with a smile on her face. Lucy blushed and got to her feet. “Sorry. Old habit.”

“Forced behavior isn’t corrective behavior.” Donna said. She didn’t elaborate, but helped Lucy into the crib. She took the mittens off Lucy’s hands and raised the bars until they clicked.

“Have a good nap, Lucy. I’ll see you in a bit. Come, Kylie. Let’s get you tucked in.”

Kylie went over to the crib. “Can we play later? I’d like to play with you.”

Lucy stretched and interlocked her fingers. It felt like she hadn’t touched anything in ages. She nodded absentmindedly while staring at her hands. Kylie followed Donna out of the room and Lucy sat alone in the crib. She touched her face, her arms, her legs, her chest, and even her diaper. Everything she touched had a different sensation and for the moment, Lucy felt alive again. She laid back, not immediately tired, but entranced by her fingers that she didn’t notice feeling sleepy. She had received more kindness from Donna in a few minutes then she had gotten the entire time she was with Penny. Confused and dreading the weekend being over, Lucy focused all of her effort on trying to be happy. Kylie wanted to spend time with her, and she wanted to enjoy all that she could while she had the chance.

Lucy Hernandez fell asleep with her fingers wound in her hair and for the first time in a long time, slipped into a pleasant dreamland.

Part Ten: Admission

Donna had put the girls down for their naps, in separate rooms, to help them calm down. Lucy was rather upset and the things that she was saying were equally upsetting. She knew that Penny’s methods were harsher than most would tolerate and she wondered why such measures were necessary. From her perspective, Lucy was not that dissimilar to Kylie. Emotional, but with the right motivators, accepting of the program. Her angry outbursts were troubling and were a clear indicator that the program wasn’t working. Lucy was demonstrating obedience due to coercion instead of gradual acceptance of the program.

Force should only be used when the client is unresponsive, not as a primary means of rehabilitation. What Penny is doing is more harmful than good. I have to say something. I should go to Moira with this, but Penny is my friend, and I owe it to her to hear her side of the story.

Donna sat on the couch and scrolled her phone. Something in her gut made her feel uneasy. There was something about this situation that didn’t seem to sit right. The girls hadn’t been down for their naps for very long and Donna already missed the noise in the house. She had the weekend to think about what she was going to do and tried to put it out of her mind. She checked the time and thought about what she was going to make the girls for lunch. She hoped that they would be in better moods and less combative.

She knew the risks of having two littles in her care. It was forbidden by the Institute for various reasons, namely, that it was too difficult to help more than one client at a time and that they were harder to control. Moira and the board had been insistent after the last incident, many years ago, that no caregiver was to ever take on two clients at once. Donna hoped to be able to prove them all wrong but didn’t know what she could do. To have two in her care was against the rules, so to prove them wrong, she would have to jeopardize her job.

Unsure of what to do, Donna went upstairs to check on Lucy. She was sure that Kylie was fine, possibly upset, but not to the degree that Lucy was. As a professional therapist, Donna felt that it was her duty to see if there was anything she could do to help Lucy.

In the nursery, Donna lowered the crib bars and gently shook Lucy awake. The young girl was groggy and on edge, panicking that she was going to be tormented by Penny again, but as her eyes cleared and she saw Donna, she calmed down. Donna helped her sit up while she rubbed her eyes.

“Wha-what’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry that I woke you up. You haven’t slept long but I wanted to give you a chance to have some one on one time with me before Kylie wakes up.”

“...why?”

“So that we can talk. You have said some things and are feeling a way that is concerning for me.”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“It isn’t. And yet, it is. I’m a licenced therapist and I love my job. I would be betraying both of them if I didn’t try to help you.”

“If you want to help me, then let me go home to my parents.”

“Is that really what you want? Is going back to the way things were the only answer?”

“It’s better than this. By a long shot. I’m not someone’s prisoner when I’m at home.”

“But you aren’t happy.”

“Happiness is a vagary of perception.”

“Your happiness is the whole point. It’s why you are here.”

“I’m here because I’m forced to be here.”

“And yet I’ve seen some true happiness within you. While you may not like everything that comes with being in the program, you are not hating all of it. Isn’t that right?”

“Is that relevant?”

“I think so. I think that you have been completely miserable with Penny, but then, something changed. Or, rather, someone changed you. Speaking of which, would you like me to change you?”

“I...I’m fine.” Lucy said. She was clearly wet, but was too hesitant to have someone other than Penny change her. It was still too embarrassing for her.

“Well, when you are ready, let me know.”

“Why are you trying to be so nice to me?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? It’s my job as a caregiver to help a little become more comfortable with their surroundings. I’m supposed to care and nurture them while paying attention to how they are feeling or coping. This program...it isn’t easy for a person to go through, especially when they’ve had a start like yours. I understand that you didn’t volunteer for this, but even with that, you should still be treated with respect.”

“I...I thought that you were all the same…”

“Oh?” Donna said, ignoring how scornful Lucy sounded. “I can understand how you would feel that way, but you need to ask yourself something. Do you think that Kylie would behave the way she does if I treated her in such a deplorable manner?”

“I...No. I guess not.”

“First and foremost, we caregivers are here to help you become the best version of you that you can be. We are here for you, not the other way around, and I think that Penny has lost track of that.”

“I hate her.”

“I know. Many do. And I won’t give you any excuses for her. I know what she was trying to do, but she went too far.”

“What was she trying to do?”

“I’m not really supposed to say, but… Penny’s job is to break people. Her job requires her to use tactics and tools in order to squash out any resistance than a client might have so that when they move on to another caregiver, they are willing to participate in their care. It’s not something that we all support, but it does have it’s uses.”

“So you are okay with this?”

“No. I am not. I believe and I fully support a more compassionate means of rehabilitation. I want to get to the root of the problem and show my clients that they can change for the better.”

“Why couldn’t I get someone like you?”

“Would it have changed anything? You would still need to reach the same point that you are at.”

“What point is that?”

“Admission. Where a client understands why they need to be in or were put in the program. While our methods differ, I can’t really step in until a client has reached that point.”

“What happens then?”

“For you? You will be assigned to a caregiver like me and you can start your therapy. The hardest part for anyone is admitting that they need help, or more specifically, our type of help.”

“That’s it? That’s all that I have to do?”

“That’s all that you need to do. It isn’t as easy as it sounds, but yes.”

“And then I will be free of her?”

“With her consent, yes. She has to sign off on her portion of your care before you can be moved on to the next stage.”

“Oh.” Lucy said, her hope fading quickly. She didn’t believe that Penny had any intention of letting her go.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No...it’s just that...I don’t know…”

“You don’t know? What don’t you know?”

“If I really belong here. Or if this is really what would help me.”

“There is something that I agree with you on. I don’t think that your treatment plan would really help you. Regressing someone back to full babyhood is a laborious task that, in my opinion, hasn’t been all that successful. Not when compared to the effort needed before therapy can even start. Like I’ve told Kylie, a client is more likely to go along and support a therapy plan when they feel like they’ve had a say in how the therapy works. I also told her that there are some things that a plan can bend on, but there are some things that must remain constant.”

“So she can have a say in how you treat her?”

“Absolutely! It makes her more likely to do what I say and be a willing participant in her own care. Nearly every caregiver I know is that way. Which is why we have such a high success rate.”

“Like what? What did Kylie want?”

“Well, we did have an issue with pooping. I had a solution that she didn’t like, so we compromised. As long as I felt like she was going regularly, I wouldn’t force her to go.”

Lucy blushed. Pooping was something that Lucy was never going to get used to, nor was it something that she was comfortable talking about. But it did show that Donna was willing to compromise as needed.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” Lucy said, turning away from Donna. It was embarrassing to think about.

“It’s a normal bodily function and as long as you are in diapers, it’s something that is to be expected, even while you are in my care.”

Lucy looked down. She didn’t want to think about it and she still had two days with Donna. At some point, she was going to have to do the unthinkable.

“It’s not as bad as you think, Lucy.” Kylie said, surprising them both. Her hair was matted from sweat and she was teetering on her feet, clutching Quackers in her arms.

“Goodness me, Kylie, you startled me.” Donna said.

“Sorry, Mommy. I woke up and you weren’t there so I came looking for you.”

“I was just having a nice conversation with Lucy.”

“About pooping?”

“About compromise. Remember when you and I had to reach a compromise?”

“Uh huh.”

“And things got better for you, didn’t they?”

“Uh huh.”

“And now you don’t fight me anymore.”

“Nuh uh.”

“That’s right. Do you need to be changed?”

“Yeah.”

“Good girl. Get up on the changing table and Mommy will get you cleaned up. Can you show Lucy how to be a good girl for Mommy?”

Kylie nodded, sleepily walking over to the changing table. She got up in it and laid down, holding her stuffed duck.

Donna peeled open the tapes on Kylie’s diaper as Lucy moved closer to watch. She wasn’t interested in the contents of the diaper, but more in how complacent Kylie was. She enjoyed getting changed and proving that she was more mature about being changed then Lucy was. Lucy felt some form of rivalry with Kylie over it. It was her nature to feel superior over others and yet, Kylie was being a better baby than she was. Lucy had her hang ups over it but she didn’t want to feel like she was holding herself back.

“Your turn!” Kylie said, clean and in a fresh diaper, she hopped off the changing table.

“Now now, Kylie. When Lucy is ready, she can get a change, but it has to happen at her pace.”

“I...I’m alright for now.” Lucy said.

“But you're wet.” Kylie said, “You need to be changed. Don’t be scared, Mommy is the best at diaper changes.”

“Kylie, don’t pester. Now what would you two like for lunch?”

“Sketti O’s!!” Kylie exclaimed. “Wif grilled cheesy!”

“Grilled cheese and spaghetti o’s? Is that okay with you, Lucy?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Okay. I’ll get right on it then. You two have fun playing and I will come get you when lunch is ready.” Donna said, heading for the door. “And Kylie? Don’t tease Lucy about her diaper. That’s not being a good friend.”

“Okay Mommy!”

Donna left the two girls to play and headed downstairs. Kylie watched her go, now fully awake. She turned to Lucy and smiled.

“You have a good nap?”

“I didn’t sleep much. Donna wanted to talk.”

“About what? Mommy likes to talk a lot.”

“About me. About Penny. She told me some stuff that I didn’t know.”

“She does that. Do you want to play with my dolly?”

“Not right now. How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Just shut it all out?  You laid there and let her change you like it was nothing.”

“It was nothing. I don’t think about it because there is no need.”

“But isn’t it embarrassing?”

“It used to be, but honestly, I’ve been changed so many times that it doesn’t faze me anymore. What’s the worst that could happen? She sees that I pooped? She wants me to, so I do, and she takes care of me.”

“But she’s touching your...private parts.”

“And?”

“Doesn’t that feel weird?”

“No. It’s not sexual. There is no attraction to me like that.”

“But doesn’t it feel strange?”

“What do you mean?”

“I...nevermind…”

“Lucy? What is it?”

“It’s nothing…”

“It’s not nothing. Why are you so hesitant to be changed?”

Lucy turned away from Kylie, ashamed. She couldn’t say the words. They were too confusing. She didn’t know what she was feeling or what it meant.

“I...I’m not. It’s just that…”

Kylie moved over to Lucy, taking her by the hand and pulling her into the play area to the side of the room. Amid all the toys and dolls were several large stuffed animals. Kylie pulled Lucy down into a sitting position.

“Okay, listen up. As you are a guest in my room, I want you to know that here, right here, is the Truth Zone. This is where best friends meet to be honest with each other. Okay?” Lucy looked around incredulously, but nodded.

“Great, I’ll go first.” Kylie said. “I swear that I will always tell the truth to my best friend in the whole world because best friends don’t keep secrets from each other! Cross my heart, hope to die, pinky swear that I will never lie!” She held her pinky out to Lucy.

“Best friend? You want me to be your best friend?”

“Of course, silly! In the Truth Zone, I can never lie.” Kylie said, smiling. “And besides, who else would ever want to be a Pampered Princess with me? It’s not like I have many other friends.”

Lucy looked Kylie in the eye and saw no deception. While Kylie had every reason to hate her for everything she’d done, she had put all that aside to instead want to become friends. It was touching. Lucy reached out and took Kylie’s pinky with her own.

“I solemnly swear that I will always tell the truth to my best friend in the whole world because best friends don’t keep secrets from each other! Cross my heart, hope to die, pinky swear that I will never lie!”

“You mean it? You promise?”

“Forever and ever!”

Kylie shrieked and wrapped Lucy in a hug. “I’m so happy! I pwomise to be the bestest fwiend evar!”

“Me too! I’m sorry for being such a meany to you for so long!”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Kylie said as they parted.

“I didn’t want you to go through all of this alone. It’s been hard for me not having anyone to talk to.”

“I feel the same. I’ve never felt so alone. So confused.”

“And now you don’t have to be.”

“I don’t even know what to say. Where do I start?”

“You don’t. I’ll start. I have a secret that I want to tell you, and no one else.”

“Okay? What kind of secret?”

“The naughty kind.” Kylie whispered. She leaned close to Lucy. “Sometimes, when I wake up from my naps, and I’m wet, I touch my diaper. You know, on the outside, right where…”

She stopped talking, her face flushing red. Lucy was astonished. She had never thought in a million years…

“Me too! Oh my God! I thought I was the only one!” She blurted out, and then clamped her hands over her mouth. She couldn’t believe that she admitted it out loud.

“Shh! Keep your voice down! Mommy might hear us!”

“Sorry! I was just so surprised.”

“And sometimes...I...lay on Quackers...and…”

“Move your hips?”

“Uh huh!”

“And get the tingles...down there?”

“Uh huh!!”

“Kind of like this?” Lucy asked. She laid a large stuffed bear down on it’s back and straddled it. She started gyrating her hips, grinding herself into the warm mush of her wet diaper.

“Exactly!”

“But you’re not wet. You can’t do it too.” Lucy said, stopping.

“It’s okay. You can have fun without me.”

“No, it isn’t.” Lucy said. “You need to pee. Right now.”

“I can’t, I don’t have to go.”

“You're a baby, you always have to go!” Lucy jeered with a smile on her face. “I’m just playing around, Kylie, I’m not trying to be mean.”

“I know. But...I’ve got an idea…” Kylie said. “I want you to be mean to me. Like that time in the bathroom. You made me pee when you were mean to me. Maybe you could do it aga-”

“Stupid snot nosed baby! Look at you! So pathetic in your diapers! And what’s this, a stuffed toy? Could you be any more of a baby? I bet you sleep in a crib and drink from a bottle, too! Do you need your binky little baby? Do you need your Mommy?”

Kylie shrank back and trembled, Lucy’s cold, cruel tone doing exactly what she wanted. Within moments, Kylie flooded her diaper. Lucy reached out and poked it, feeling the warm liquid spread as it was absorbed.

“Holy shit! You weren’t joking! You really do pee when you are teased.”

“It’s not funny! But yes. Whenever I get too anxious, I pee.”

“And a lot, by the looks of it. Should I call your Mommy so you can be changed?”

Kylie sneered and cupped the front of Lucy’s diaper, pushing the damp material into Lucy’s private area. “I think you need a change more than I do. At least I’m not afraid of admitting that I like being in a wet diaper!”

“Shut up! I don’t need to admit any such thing!”

Kylie reached for another stuffed animal and tucked it between her legs. “Can you show me...how to…” She trailed off, admitting her inexperience and her desire.

“You’ve never?” Lucy asked, putting the pieces together. “Are you a virgin?”

“I...I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Kylie said, standing up.

“Wait, Kylie, don’t go. It’s the Truth Zone, you have to be honest with me.”

Kylie stopped. Outplayed at her own game, she slumped back down, unknowingly straddling the stuffed animal. The extra pressure between her legs felt good.

“Yes. Okay? I’m still a virgin. You happy now?”

“I...No. It doesn’t matter to me, but it makes a lot of sense.”

“I don’t want to be. I mean. I’ve tried to talk to boys, but I always get so nervous and I can’t be wetting myself in front of them.”

“It’s okay. Most boys aren’t worth it. But you at least need to know how to make yourself feel good.” She leaned forward, putting more pressure on her diapered area. “Lay forward like this.” Kylie mimicked her.

“Good. Now move your hips like I do. You want to put the pressure in the right spot.

Yeah, right there! Feel that? How that seems to spread everywhere? That’s what you want.

Slow down. Work it slow. Just let your hips do all the work. God, you should see your face! No. No! Don’t stop. That’s it. Keep going. Slowly. Think about how good it feels. That’s it. That’s a good girl. Hump that bear in your wet diaper. Listen to it crinkle. Such a good baby. That’s it. Little faster now. That’s it. Such a good baby. Such a good ba- ba- Oh God!!!”

Lucy convulsed as she orgasmed, shuddering from head to toe. She panted and collapsed, breathing heavy as waves of pleasure washed over her. Kylie’s face was frozen as her hips ground against the bear. Her pace quickened and before long, her face contorted and she let out a long, satisfying moan before collapsing herself.

Both girls lay there, breathing heavy, coming down from the high. Lucy was the first to collect herself, having experienced an orgasm before. She got off the bear and put it back where it used to be. She sat on the floor, her knees pressed together, getting one last dose of the great feeling. Kylie was a little slower to get moving again. Her knees were weak. She had never felt anything like that before, and Lucy’s words sent a mixed message. Had she been talking to Kylie, or herself? Kylie wasn’t sure. She finally picked up her stuffed animal and grabbed Quackers. She was a little unsteady on her feet, but she quickly recovered.

“Hungry?” She asked.

“Famished.” Lucy said, standing up.

“One more thing. Before we go downstairs…”

“Yes?”

“Who were you talking to?”

“I…I guess I was talking to myself. Why?”

“No reason. I’m just guessing that the conversation meant something different in your head.”

“Yeah. It did.”

“Can I ask what?”

Lucy sighed and stretched. “I was just trying to work out what you and Donna have said.

And I don’t know. I think you guys are right. I think I’m supposed to be here”

“It’s not about where you are supposed to be. It’s more of where you want to be. I want to be here and I think that you do too.”

“I think you are right. I mean. At first, this was all too strange and too disgusting. But the more I think about it and the more time I spend with you, the more I think that I’m just putting my own apprehensions in front of everything. I haven’t been willing to give this a real chance and it’s made things so much harder. I just...I know it’s weird and I know that I shouldn’t like it, but, part of me...wants to. I see how happy you are and I want that. I want to be happy. I want-”

“To be a baby?” Kylie said with a smile.

“I want to be with my best friend.” Lucy said. “And if that means that I have to be a baby, then so be it.”

“You know that you don’t mean that. Being a baby isn’t as bad as you make it sound.”

“You’re right. It’s not. If I can just get used to...God it’s so hard to say…”

“Wearing and using diapers?”

“Yes. That. Then I think I can be okay with this type of therapy.”

“You know that it’s more than just being okay with therapy. You have to recognise and admit that you need a change in your life, and not just of your diaper.”

“Don’t make fun of me! I’m being serious!” Lucy said before sighing. “But you are right. I do need a change in my life and of my...diaper.” She paused, looking down. “I don’t want to be that mean girl who bullies people around because I think that I’m better than them. I’m not. I’m not any better than anyone. If anything, I’m probably worse.”

“You aren’t all that bad. You have been a bully, but it’s not a permanent defect.”

“Defect?”

“I mean that in the nicest way possible. We all have things that we need to change about ourselves. I think it’s important to be able to recognise the faults in ourselves.”

“And what faults do you have?”

“That I hate my mother and I don’t know how to stand up for myself, that's why I was such an easy target for your bullying.”

“I am sorry about that.”

“I know. But standing up for myself is no easy task and I’m not sure how much therapy is going to help.”

“Have you talked to your Mommy about it?”

“No. Not yet. I don’t know what to say. How do I stand up for myself when I’m her baby? What am I going to say? No, I don’t want to wear diapers! Some things are non negotiable.”

“But you want to wear diapers. You said so yourself.”

“I was giving you an example.”

“I know. I was making fun. Let’s go see if lunch is ready.”

“Okay.” Kylie said. “And Lucy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being my friend.”

“Thanks for believing that I could be a good friend.”

The girls came downstairs, giggling about something. Donna had let them play for a while before starting lunch. She wanted them to be able to get along and the best way was for them to talk it out. She had moved the stroller into the living room and thought about how best to spend the day with the girls. Kylie had shown a lot of improvement and wouldn’t be long before she was ready to go out into the world. Donna had enough normal clothes to hide something like a diaper, so whatever shame she would have could be minimised. Donna was feeling a little pent up from being stuck in the house for weeks as it was. Her only hurdle would be to convince Lucy that she needed to be changed before they could go anywhere. Hygiene was important, after all.

“Mommy?”

“I’m in the living room, baby.” Kylie and Lucy walked into the living room, both looking like they had gotten a great weight on their shoulders. “We hungry, Mommy.”

“And I have lunch ready. Can’t you smell it?”

The girls sniffed the air and sure enough, the smell of pasta sauce was coming from the kitchen. The girls nodded and headed for the kitchen and Donna followed them. She had pulled up a spare high chair from downstairs so that the girls would be on even footing. One of the many things that mattered most to her was equal treatment. With the girls seated and trays locked in place, she served them. As they ate, she wondered how best to approach the idea of going outside. Being blunt seemed like the only rational idea.

“How would you girls like to go out shopping with me after lunch? We could make a day of it.”

Kylie looked at Lucy for a moment before cramming her sandwich in her mouth. Lucy seemed hesitant about the matter.

“It’s fine wif me, Mommy.” Kylie said around her sandwich.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Kylie. It’s rude.”

“Sowwy.”

“Apology accepted. How do you feel about it, Lucy?”

“Well...ummm….I guess so...but uh...I need...ummm.” Lucy was trying to talk through her sandwich, using it as a shield.

“Lucy. Look at me.” Donna said. Lucy put the sandwich down and turned her eyes up to Donna. “That’s better. Now, what were you trying to say.”

Lucy stammered and stuttered on her words, clearly embarrassed. Kylie reached over and took Lucy by the hand. “It’s okay. Just say it.”

“I...I need my...d-diaper changed. P-pul-please.”

“Oh, Lucy, I’m so proud of you! Of course I will change you. As soon as you are done eating, we will go get you girls changed into something more fitting to go out in.” Donna said, smiling from ear to ear.

“See? I told you she’s the bestest ever.”

Lucy tried to hide her embarrassment behind her sandwich. It was difficult to tell someone about the state of her diaper. Penny had always been forceful when it came to changes. Forceful, and rough.

When lunch was done and the girls were full, Donna led them upstairs. She picked out two pairs of cute outfits that the teenage girls wouldn’t mind wearing before readying the supplies needed to change them.

“Okay. Who’s first?” She asked, patting the changing table. Kylie stepped forward but paused. She looked at Lucy. Lucy was still unsure, trying to hide the soggy state of her diaper.

Kylie took Lucy by the hand and pulled her to the changing table.

“Here. Take Quackers. He’s brave and bold and he will protect you.” Kylie said, handing her favorite toy to Lucy.

“But..he’s yours.”

“He is. But you need him more than I do. And it’s just for the change. Mommy will get you your own stuffy. Right, Mommy?”

“Absolutely! Go on and hop up on the table, Lucy. I promise that it will be over quick.”

With Quackers in hand, Lucy got up on the table. She held the stuffy tight as Donna pulled at the tapes. She stared off into the distance, trying to hide her shame and waiting for the unpleasantness to be over. She smelled the powder, and felt the coolness of the wipes, and before she really knew what was happening, Donna was taping the fresh diaper closed around her waist.

“Wait. It’s over?” She asked, sitting up.

“Yep. Quick and painless. You’re such a good girl, laying still for me like that.”

“See? It wasn’t that bad. Me next Mommy, me next!”

“Hold your horses, Kylie. This is a big moment for Lucy. How do you feel?”

“I..I feel fine. That was...not too bad at all. Are all changes like that?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice with Miss Pee Pants over there. I’m joking, Kylie. But a change is supposed to be an intimate ordeal. You are placing a lot of trust in me to take care of you in a very personal way, so how I care for you is a reflection of how I feel about what I do.

“When you are ready, we can get you dressed. I’m sure you don’t want to wear that ridiculous outfit out in public.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“While I am supposed to treat you as a baby, I have found that being a baby or a little is a state of mind more than it is a look or design.”

“A little?”

“That’s what we are, Lucy. We aren’t really babies. Not in the way someone else would see a baby. We are just people who like being little. Like a kid. A little kid.”

“Then why do we have to wear diapers?”

“Because,” Donna said, “diapers are a constant reminder of your place in this dynamic. They make you feel little all the time. They say to anyone who sees them that you are a little/ baby.”

“And they are super cute!” Kylie added.

“Yes they are. And they remind you that you have someone to take care of you, at all times. They are a reminder that you don’t need anything to do with the adult world, that even something as simple as using the bathroom is taken out of your control, allowing you to be fully free. In freedom, you can find clarity. In freedom, you can find peace.”

“Peace?”

“Peace.” Kylie said. “Nirvana. It goes by many names. You keep asking me how I do this, how I do all of it, it’s for peace. I’m free here, like this. Here, I don’t hate my mother because I don’t have to deal with her. Here, I don’t hate the fact that I can’t stand up for myself. Here, I don’t get embarrassed when I wet myself. Here, I’m loved. I’m cared for. And I have my best friend to share my journey with. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“Now move your pampered butt so that I can get changed!”

Lucy smiled, filled with hope and love. It seemed like everything was finally starting to fall into place. She hopped off the changing table and pulled the ridiculous dress off her body. Penny had terrible taste and it seemed like everything that woman did was to demean Lucy. She pushed Penny out of her mind as she got dressed. Donna changed Kylie as quickly as she changed Lucy and was helping Kylie into her clothes. Lucy couldn’t help but check out Kylie’s figure. The extra padding did wonders for her butt, Lucy’s as well, and although Lucy had more than enough self esteem when it came to her own body, a little extra boost couldn’t hurt.

She had trouble getting her pants on as the diaper was too thick and Donna had to help her get them buttoned. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was surprised at how good she looked. Even with the added bulk, it wasn’t really noticeable as to what she was wearing. Donna was right, however. It didn’t matter how she moved, she could always tell that she was wearing a diaper, and therefore, was a baby.

“Okay! Let’s get going!” Donna said.

“I’m ready, Mommy!”

“I’m ready, too.” Lucy said.

Outside in the driveway, Donna had to stop them. “So, normally, I would have my little in the car seat, but I think, today, that my girls would be okay to have a little big girl time. So, no car seat, but I need you to promise me that you will be good.”

“Yes, Mommy. We will be good.”

“Yes, Donna.”

“Good. Now hop in the back and we can get going.”

The girls got buckled in the back, both of them noting the travel sized diaper bag that sat at the foot of the car seat. Donna pulled a pair of pacifiers from her purse and handed them to the girls, who giggled and popped them in their mouths. She kept an eye on them as she drove and was touched by how well they got along with each other. She knew the risks of having two littles, but maybe, just maybe, this pair could prove them all wrong.

Part Eleven: Rebellion

The weekend with Donna and Kylie was the best weekend Lucy had ever had. She hadn’t felt so good, so carefree, or so unburdened in her entire life. Donna had taken them out shopping and even though she was constantly self-conscious about what she was wearing, no one noticed. A large part of that was that Lucy was trying to let it all go.

Since puberty, pretty much, Lucy had gone out of her way to look the best, feel the best, and be the best. It was part of the abnormal psychology of modern humanity. Humans were the only species that she could think of where the females were competing for a mate instead of the males. She thought of all of the birds and mammals that she could name and all of them shared the same trait. The males were the ones that pursued the females, that performed or stood out to win a female’s favor, but not humans. While society would love to make it appear so, men did little besides clumsily spew pickup lines or brandish their wallets to win over potential mates. And men settle. It never mattered how many times a man was rejected, there was always someone farther down the ladder who would accept it. Women don’t have that luxury. Women are told never to settle, to sleep up, as it were, as the value of a man was gauged by what he could provide. So all of the girls did everything they could to win the best of the bunch and Lucy was no different. With such pursuits came the inevitable disappointments. When love is decided by committee, there is little room for what the heart wants. She’d been victim to such hive thinking many times. Her circle of friends would say that a guy is really cute and that she should date them, but it would always end up the same. Pretty and wealthy made her a trophy and not a pursuit. Guys treated her as a conquest instead of a person and she had to accept it all.

Babied, and with her new best friend, Lucy didn’t have the pressures to turn heads anymore. She hadn’t honestly thought about her old friends and she was sure that they hadn’t thought much about her. The hive was quick to replace fallen drones. Kylie didn’t treat her like her old friends did. Kylie walked with her, arm in arm, and pointed out all the things that she thought were cool or cute. Lucy had to admit to herself that her tastes were more in line with Kylie’s than what she would normally go for. Slutty chic she called it. Show enough to get them interested, flash it to keep them coming back for more. Kylie was far more conservative. Her being a virgin had a lot to do with that, or her mother, Lucy wasn’t sure which, but Kylie acted genuine around Lucy.

Donna held their pacifiers in her purse as they walked around the mall. She let the girls walk in front of her so that they could enjoy themselves as they wandered around. Donna didn’t have a game plan, she had just wanted to get out of the house. She hoped that her experiment of taking the two of them out together wouldn’t blow up in her face. There had been previous examples of little going out into public too early and not coping very well. A lot of the time, it was that first taste of freedom that often pulled them astray. Other times, it was running into the familiar, be it a friend or acquaintance that would derail their progress. The Institute had therefore decided that such excursions were better left for later in the program when the client had reached the final stages of segment one and were well indoctrinated into needing their caregiver. The pull towards their old life was easier to resist when they relied on someone else almost entirely. Donna felt that Kylie was close to that point. What little resistance she may have was drowned out by the routine. She was nearing diaper dependency to control her wetting and within the next few months, she would be fully incontinent. It was easier for Kylie to stay on that path, as that’s where she wanted to be. Lucy, however, was far from that point and Donna doubted if she would ever get there. The walls and barriers that Lucy had around her psyche were hardened by Penny’s mistreatment of her and Donna felt that Lucy’s portrayed happiness was a shallow feeling. She wasn’t there yet. She wasn’t willing to let it all go.

Donna bought them a few outfits, Kylie wanted more skirts and tights, claiming that they helped her feel little and would provide Donna with ease of access for changing. Lucy was shy about her clothing, trying to find pants that were larger than she needed to hide her shame. She put on a brave face about all of it but Donna could tell that she was feeling uneasy. Donna did let her choose her own stuffed toy though, a Huskie dog that she named Paws. She held it in her arms the rest of the day, doing her best to ignore the strange looks she got from passersby.

They ate at the food court and Donna let them ride the carousel. They behaved much like sisters and the longer the day wore on, the more Donna felt that her wishes had some merit. She wished that the powers that be could see how Kylie and Lucy behaved together. If the goal was to get them to act as if they were hiding some embarrassing secret, then Donna had been overwhelmingly successful. Kylie behaved as if she were oblivious to her situation and even Lucy didn’t seem hindered much. Donna watched them with interest and recognised the signs as they spun around on the carousel. They would both slow down for a few moments as if they were pretending to concentrate on something, and then they would be right back to giggling and horsing around. Donna had seen the act enough times before to know that they were wetting themselves and then carrying on as if nothing had happened. They were making huge strides in their regression and Donna couldn’t be more proud.

She waited to change them until they got home. They weren’t ready for a public change. Lucy was still hesitant but with Paws in her arms, she was less resistant than before. They played with the toys in the nursery until dinner and after they ate, Donna led them into the living room for their bottles and cuddle time. She laid their heads on her lap, their bodies going to opposite ends of the couch and she held their bottles for them. It was here, again, that Lucy was apprehensive, but she went along with it at Kylie’s behest and quickly found that she loved the idea. There was something so intimately pure about it that she almost wished that she had Donna all to herself.

Donna tucked them in together in the crib. Their bonding was important to Lucy’s care and as long as Donna could live the dream, she would. She wanted a baby of her own, for sure, but daughters held a special place in her heart.

The girls awoke Saturday morning in each other's arms. There wasn’t any sexual tension, just warmth and peace. When Donna came up to get them, they both opted to play for a while before they got changed. Kylie had wet during the night but Lucy hadn’t and they wanted to be changed together. At least, that’s what they told Donna. What they really wanted was more gyrating time in the Truth Zone. Once they were both spent and wet, they went downstairs for breakfast. Donna was putting Lucy’s little age at a little under Kylie’s. Where Kylie was a functioning toddler, around 4 or 5, Lucy was closer to wanting to be 2 or 3. Lucy was amazed and entranced by Kylie’s grasp of being little and looked to Kylie as a mentor or bigger sister. She followed Kylie’s lead through breakfast, their morning change, and tummy time. Kylie, who was far less ashamed about the state of her diaper, stayed in her routine even with Lucy around. Not long into the second TV episode had Kylie filled her diaper as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Lucy couldn’t follow suit as she was still too embarrassed of messing, but she was curious as to how Kylie could let go. Donna let them play in the bath until they were shivering before getting them dressed. She kept an eye on them throughout the day, but only bothered them to give them bottles or to perform diaper checks. Even with the sparse monitoring that she was doing, Donna could tell that Lucy was having a much easier time regressing. She had found means in which to let go, and she was doing so with positive results.

Her mood soured as Saturday turned to night. The impending dark cloud that was Penny loomed closer and closer with each passing hour. Lucy was trying her hardest to not let it affect her but Donna could sense that she was getting uneasy.

After dinner and cuddle time, Donna put them down for the night. She made sure they were dry and clean. She gave them a bottle apiece and tucked them in the crib. She kissed them both on the forehead and bade them goodnight.

Lucy wasn’t at all tired and she tossed about in the crib. Kylie was worried for her and did her best to be supportive.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Lucy said after rolling over for the umpteenth time. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“I know. I want you to stay here with me but I don’t think it’s allowed.” Kylie said, laying on her side and propping her head up with her hand.

“That’s a stupid rule. We aren’t hurting anything or anyone.”

“And you’ve made a lot of progress this weekend.”

“I have. I am even starting to like all of this, but with her, it’s just rules and punishments.”

“Maybe we can plead our case or something.”

“To who? I said this before, Kylie. No one cares. We are a job. A task. A paycheck.”

“To some, maybe. But we are still people. Paying clients. And I think they would rather keep their perfect record than fail.”

“You know what they say about good press, it’s as good as you are willing to pay for.”

“We can’t just give up, though.”

“You said there was a way. Remember? You said there was a way that I could get out of this.”

“Well, yeah, there is, but I don’t know what happens if you try.”

“You think that I shouldn’t?”

“No. I think that you should but only after exhausting all other methods.”

“I don’t have anything else Kylie. If you were really my friend, you would just tell me what to do.”

Kylie sighed. She laid her head on her arm. Clause 13 was not something that should just be thrown around. And she only knew one side of the story. She didn’t know if Lucy was exaggerating the circumstances. She wanted to believe Lucy, and for the most part, she did, but she knew that Clause 13 was meant to be taken seriously. Her adult mind battled with her little mind and she was confused as to what to do. Lucy’s face was hidden by the darkness of the room but as the clouds passed from blocking the moonlight, Kylie could see that Lucy was crying. Big or small, Lucy needed Kylie.

“It’s called Clause 13. From what I was told, you say these words: I want Clause 13 and you will be taken to see Dr. Theroux. I don’t know what happens after that but Mommy is very tense around him. I’m guessing that he’s someone of great power and that Clause 13 means that they did something bad.”

“That’s it? It’s that simple?”

“From what I was told, yes.”

“Why wasn’t I told about it?”

“Would you have given all of this a chance if you had been?”

“No, but-”

“Exactly. Listen, Lucy, I’ve known you for a long time and I’ve never seen you as happy as I have now. This program, for all that is weird and crazy, does work. And if you had known that there was a way out, you wouldn’t have given it a chance and we would be best friends.”

Kylie flopped her head onto Lucy’s chest. “And I wouldn’t have you in my life anymore.”

“I…” Lucy started but trailed off. Kylie was right. It was hard to admit, but Kylie was right. In Donna’s care, Lucy had started to accept the program and the reasons why she was in it. The sexual pleasure she got from grinding in her wet diaper was the icing on the cake. Lucy wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but she liked being taken care of. As much as she was adverse to the means, she had never been treated with this level of care and respect with her own parents, or the nanny that raised her. Donna was beyond what Lucy knew was possible from a maternal figure and like anyone who had been deprived of that human connection, she wanted more.

She patted Kylie on the head. Kylie’s forgiveness and acceptance of Lucy’s actions had shook her to her core. Lucy had never seen such compassion and never felt like she truly belonged. Kylie saw past her mistakes and flaws and still wanted to be her friend. They like a lot of the same things, from toys to clothes to food. Lucy was amazed at how much Kylie and her had in common that she felt guilty every time she remembered the cruel things she had done.

“You’re right.” She finally said. “I would have never gotten to this point if I had taken the easy way out. You’re also right to say that I’m the happiest that I’ve ever been. And I want to continue to be happy. I just don’t know how to make Penny see that what she’s doing isn’t what works for me.”

“The only way to let her know is to talk to her. You have to convince her to listen.”

“How?”

“I-I don’t know. I can’t even say what I would do in your shoes.”

“Wet your diaper.” Lucy said with a grin, “Duh.”

“Hey! Why are you picking on me?”

“Because it makes you smile when I do it and your smile makes me smile.” “It never used to make me smile.” Kylie said with a forced pout on her lips.

“Because I was trying to hurt you before, now we both know that I’m not being serious.”

“And that suddenly makes it all better?”

“It does.”

“How?”

“Because now you’re not the only one who wets herself!”

“So, wetter is better?”

“With my best friend, everything is better!”

As long as we are together. Each of them thought it but neither could say it. From one side, it sounded depressing, from the other pretentious. They lay next to each other, each with their stuffy in their arms. They didn’t know what they were feeling. Was it kinship? Was it love?

Was it the unbreakable bond of sisterhood? Romance? It was hard to tell. What they did know was how they felt tied together. For better or for worse, they were in it together.

Donna finished filing her paperwork on Kylie from the desk in her room. She had put the girls to bed a little earlier than normal because of Lucy’s behavior and her need for a break. Lucy wasn’t misbehaving, but her dour tone was exhausting. Donna understood why and that knowledge was also concerning. She made some notes in her weekly report, stared at them for far too long, before deleting them. She sent the report in and sat back in her chair with a heavy sigh. Penny’s business was no business of hers but Donna knew that Lucy’s progress was beyond phenomenal. The influence Kylie and her had on Lucy was enough to see significant gains and all of it within a short period of time. Donna knew that most if not all of the progress would be lost not long after the end of the weekend and Lucy would be at risk of relapsing entirely out of the program.

Donna typed out a long message to Penny in a text. She knew that she would end up in an argument if she were to voice her opinions in person. Her thumb hesitated over the send button. She didn’t feel like it was her place to say anything and yet it was her responsibility to speak up for those in her care. Penny entrusted her with Lucy, if even for a weekend, and Donna felt that she had enough moral ground to voice her opinion.

She closed her eyes and sighed. She didn’t know what she should do and then, suddenly, her phone started vibrating in her hand. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at the incoming call for a second. She sighed again, this time out of exasperation and answered the call.

“Good evening, Ma’am.”

“Donna! How good to be able to talk to you!”

“Likewise, Ma’am. How can I help you this evening?”

“Well, for starters, you can drop the formalities. We’ve worked together far too long to be caught up on such things.”

“As you wish.”

“And the reason that I’m calling this late is that I was reviewing your weekly report and had some questions.”

“Did I forget to fill something out?”

“Heavens no. Your reports are the template I use to base all others upon.”

“Then what is the issue?”

“Issue? No issue, just more of a concern. While detailed, it read like you were omitting something.”

“I don’t think that I am.”

“Are you sure?”

Donna paused. Moira Vale always acted like she knew more than she let on, usually because she did, whether through deception or subterfuge.

“I’ll cut the small talk. I know you deleted things off your report and I know what those things are, my question to you, then, is why?” “Relevance.” Donna said.

“You don’t think they were relevant?”

“To my client, no.”

“And what gave you that impression?”

“Well, as socialization is something that we push all of our clients towards, I believe that at this juncture, it’s too early.”

“Which didn’t stop you from taking on another charge, so do you not believe your own opinions or are you compromised on your convictions?”

“Neither. I believe that what I have seen runs contrary to how we operate and further noting of it would make matters complicated. I feel that my client has come a long way.”

“And you are worried about stagnation?”

“No. I’m worried that her faith in our program hinges on more than my ability as her caregiver.”

“Because of this other client?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“They have a bond. A close one. Mine was tormented by the other in the outside world but here, they have become best of friends. Kylie’s growth I fear is tied to the growth of Lucy, of whom she feels responsible.”

“You know how we feel about more than one client to a caregiver.”

“I do, which is why I erased some of my comments. I do feel, however, that this specific instance requires more observation than critique.”

“Noted. However, it’s not your little that I’m concerned with. Your thoughts on this matter betray your feelings. You worry for someone not in your care. Why?”

“Because I fear for her safety. Some of the things she’s said have me worried about the type of care that she’s getting.”

“A horse must be broken before it can be ridden.”

“I know. But I also know that after the initial shock of the program, we have seen cases where further attempts to break end up costing more than they help. I feel, and this is solely my opinion, that Lucy needs a different kind of care. She’s been broken and she’s making great strides to fall in line with the program. But I also know that there is more to all of this than just the program. There needs to be care. A bond between us and our clients that builds the trust needed for therapy to work. I don’t see Lucy getting that if she stays in this part of the program.”

“Are you sensing something that I should know about?”

“I’m not sure. I know that when I brought Kylie home, she had been made aware of Clause 13.”

“That’s potentially problematic.”

“I think with proper intervention, perhaps on your behalf, things could be changed.”

“And why should I intervene?”

“Because it’s what right to do. I feel as if the board would view this differently if it becomes a problem.”

“Potentially. However, I feel that you’re too close to this situation to have a clear view of what’s going on. I will take your concerns into account and investigate the situation. I do recommend that going forward, you don’t omit anything from your reports.” Cold, callous, and calculating, everything that Donna knew about Moira summed up in a quick exchange of conversation.

The line went dead and Donna sighed again. Moira was always a hard person to deal with and Donna felt as if she had shot herself in the foot saying as much as she had. It couldn’t be helped, however. Donna had her suspicions that the Institute spied on its employees. It wouldn’t be too hard to install a keylogger program to track what she typed. She hoped that it would all be worth it in the end and that Lucy got the help that she truly needed.

Donna deleted the wall of text she had planned to send to Penny. She didn’t know how to argue her gut instinct and Lucy’s claims. They were, after all, mostly unsubstantiated. She set her phone on her nightstand and changed into a maternity nightgown. She pumped her breasts as she watched some mindless program on the tv. In the closet of her room was a chest freezer that was nearly full of breastmilk. It had been so long since she had been able to nurse anyone that she was considering letting her supply dry up. Kylie had come close and was getting more than half of her bottles as breastmilk, but as a toddler and not a baby, Kylie wasn’t getting nearly the amount of bottles to keep up with the supply.

Drained and exhausted, Donna packed away the supplies, stored the milk in the refrigerator, and quietly snuck upstairs to check on the girls. Lucy was sound asleep, her legs splayed slightly apart and her diaper was wet. Kylie was turned away from Donna and between Lucy’s light snoring, Kylie’s soft, rhythmic breathing could be heard. Their bottles were empty so Donna carefully retrieved them before stealthily heading back downstairs. They were a lot of work, but Donna was happy to have them. Something about it just felt right.

Sunday morning found the Pampered Princesses awaking to being soaking wet. Wet enough that they both left small wet patches on the mattress of the crib. It had been the first time that either of them had leaked and it was a stark reminder of how dependent they were on their diapers. Still locked in the crib, they looked around for something that they could put between their legs to grind on. Without much but their stuffies, which were too small to be of any use, they had nothing but each other. It took some convincing, but eventually, Kylie agreed to have Lucy straddle her thigh. It was weird and awkward at first, especially as they faced each other, but as the sensations grew and Lucy began panting, Kylie held her close and Lucy ground her pelvis into Kylie’s thigh until she shuddered in orgasm.

Keeping quiet enough to not be heard was the hard part, and when they switched spots, it took everything Kylie had not to be loud and boisterous. It didn’t help matters when the more experienced Lucy seized upon the opportunity to deliver some well timed swats to Kylie’s padded rear. Collapsing into Lucy’s arms, Kylie spasmed for a few moments before regaining her composure, and just in the knick of time as they heard Donna’s footsteps ascend the stairs.

She changed them, fed them, and let them have their morning tv time before she gave them their baths. She wasn’t in any rush but she did want them to spend as much time together as they could before Lucy had to leave. Donna had gotten a text from Penny that morning saying that she would be landing in the early afternoon and would pick up Lucy as soon as she got back. Donna decided to keep the times to herself so as to not disturb Lucy but as the morning wore on, she thought it best to make the transition as easy as possible.

“Well, girls, what would you say to some fresh air? I think we should take a walk around the neighborhood.”

“A walk?” Lucy asked.

“Would you prefer a ride in the stroller?”

“I-”

“It’ll be fun, Lucy! We can go down to the park!” Kylie said excitedly.

The park she referred to was barely used as a vast majority of the kids that grew up in the community had reached adulthood and moved on. Kylie had seen it on the way home from Penny’s house and wanted to play there.

“A park?”

“Yes, there is a park not far away. I know you have your reservations about being seen but       I think we have already jumped that hurdle, don’t you?”

Lucy fidgeted, twisting one ankle to look sheepish and shy. “I guess so. But…”

“I’ll tell you what. You can ride in the stroller on the way there and if you still don’t feel like playing, you can watch us play.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Good.” Donna said. “I’ll get the stroller ready, you two go get your little furry friends.”

She smiled as the girls ran up the stairs to get their stuffies from the crib. They giggled and laughed. She heard them fall over each other to get their friends from the crib and one of them squealed in joyous delight. She unfolded the stroller as they came rushing back down the stairs, practically tumbling over each other.

Donna grabbed the diaper bag as Lucy crawled into the stroller. She didn’t think that she would need it, being so close to home, but it did serve as a visual reminder to the girls.

Everything was about repetition. Hammering it home.

With the girls giddy and ready, she entered her code into the keypad and pushed the stroller out into the warm summer day. Kylie had a hop to her step as Lucy and her giggle talked their way down the sidewalk. Donna didn’t really pay much mind to what they were saying, but more to how they interacted. She wished that she could record them for Moira to see and perhaps be able to sway some opinions.

The walk went uninterrupted and it wasn’t long before Kylie squealed and ran ahead. The park was about twenty yards away and by the time Lucy and Donna had gotten there, Kylie was already reaching peak momentum on the swingset, her skirt blowing up, showing her pink diaper through her white tights. She behaved as if she didn’t have a care in the world and for Lucy, it was refreshing. She leaned forward to look around from the safety of the crib and upon seeing no one, she cautiously crawled out.

“C’mon Lucy! Swing wif me!”

“Go on, Lucy. I’ll keep watch.”

Lucy looked at Donna, her eyes full of hope filled trust, before tentatively heading towards the swingset. With each step, her courage grew, and the more Kylie egged her on, the braver she became.

Kylie and Lucy played at the park for hours. They had no semblance of time, all they knew was joy and fun and happiness. The sun had reached its zenith in the sky and was slowly falling before the girls began to feel signs of exhaustion. A few people had passed by the park but no one paid them any mind. They didn’t seem to notice the fact that anyone ever lived in the neighborhood until Kylie crested the steps of the biggest slide and froze. She tried to play it off like she had to potty real quick, but she knew that her time with Lucy had run out.

Lucy saw Penny and immediately felt her stomach drop. All at once, her fears and anxieties came rushing back. Donna hadn’t put any of Lucy’s restraints back on and Penny was tapping them against her thigh as she talked to Donna. The girls had no idea how long Penny had been there but it didn’t take long before they were called over.

“Did you have fun playing with Kylie?” Penny asked as the girls got close to their caregivers. Lucy nodded but didn’t say anything.

“We had the bestest time ever!” Kylie said, still wound up.

“That’s good. But I’m sure you need a change and it’s almost dinner time, so let’s get you back in the stroller and head home.” Penny said. While her words seemed caring, her tone had a hint of displeasure. She spoke to Lucy, seemingly indifferent to the presence of Donna or Kylie.

Lucy silently obeyed. She gave Kylie one last heartwrenching look before pulling the sun shield over her face. Penny exchanged curt pleasantries with Donna before briskly walking away, pushing Lucy towards the direction of her house. When they were out of earshot, Donna sighed and shook her head.

“Mommy?” Kylie asked, tugging on Donna’s shirt.

“Yes, baby?”

“Is Lucy going to be okay?”

Donna paused. Her quick conversation with Penny hadn’t gone well. “I’m not really sure, sweetie. It’s not our place to intervene.”

“Lucy won’t be hurt, will she?”

“What makes you think that Penny would hurt Lucy?”

“Just a feeling, I guess. I’m hungry, Mommy.”

“I know, baby. You really need a change, too, don’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, let’s head home. Can you be a good girl for Mommy and wait a little bit?”

“Yeah. I can wait.”

“Okay. I just want to take a different way home is all.”

“Otay.”

Donna gathered her things and took Kylie by the hand. She had the same gut feeling that Kylie had, only worse. She hoped she was wrong. She prayed that she was just being paranoid.

Lucy’s hell started the moment they got in the door. She hadn’t even been able to get out of the stroller before Penny started berating her, bitching about how she had gotten her restraints off, how she wasn’t acting like the baby she really was. Penny had attached the restraints again, and was furiously ripping Lucy’s clothes off.

“Babies don’t act like that. Babies don’t dress like that. Babies are supposed to do what they are told!” Penny kept repeating as she pulled Lucy’s more mature clothes off. “And what’s this I hear that you didn’t mess your diapers at all this weekend? Do you want to end up with a belly ache?”

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” Lucy said. “I was scared.”

“Stop fussing or I’ll gag you. I didn’t ask for your opinion. You know the rules, you know what you are expected to do. It seems that you need to be reminded of your place again.”

“No! I was a good girl. Ask Donna! I was good!”

“If you were so good, then why did I see you walking around? Do babies walk? I don’t think so!” Penny sharply pushed Lucy to her knees, forcing the girl on all fours. “Let’s see how a week in your cage with one change a day does for you!”

She attached the leash to Lucy’s collar and pulled her down the hall. Lucy was crying and barely moving but the harder she resisted, the more Penny choked her by pulling on the leash. Slowly, Penny worked her down the hall and into the punishment room. Lucy pleaded and begged, but to no avail. When she reached the doorway, she dug her heels in, bracing herself on the doorway and pulling back on the leash.

“Don’t resist me you little babied bitch! You want to go down this road? Huh? You want to see just how bad it can be? Fine!”

Penny dropped the leash and in two steps, had Lucy by the hair. She slapped Lucy repeatedly about the face and as Lucy struggled to get to her feet, kneed Lucy in the stomach. Lucy gasped and clenched her midsection and Penny pulled her by the hair, dragging her into the room.

Lucy cried out the only thing she could readily think of. “Clause 13! I want Clause 13!”

“Clause 13? Ha! Like I give a shit! No one can hear you in here, you spoiled cunt! You’re mine! And you will never see that little skank Kylie again!”

Lucy snapped, the pain in her abdomen turning to white hot rage. She reached both hands behind her head and dug her nails into the first thing she could get her hands on, Penny’s wrists. No one could tell, but Penny’s wrists were horribly bruised from her weekend of BDSM restraints and Lucy’s nails cut into already sensitive skin. Penny cried out in pain and let go of the fistful of Lucy’s hair. Lucy seized the moment, spinning around and shoulder charged Penny into the metal dog cage. The welded steel corner dug into Penny’s back and Lucy followed it up by bashing her elbow into Penny’s face. Penny’s head snapped back and she slumped forward.

Lucy let her fall to the floor before she kicked Penny in the ribs a few times.

Seeing an opportunity, Lucy ran for the front door, stumbling around the stroller. She pulled on the door, trying the latch several times but it wouldn’t budge.

“Now you’ve done fucked up.” Penny growled. She was leaning against the hallway wall, blood running down her chin from the gash on her lip. “Where are you going to go now? Huh? You think this is me hurt? I’ve had the shit kicked out of me far worse than anything your pom pom cheering ass can do.

“So now what? Nowhere to go. Can’t get out. It’s just me and you, bitch, and I’m just getting started! But hey, I think when I’m done with you, I’ll invite Kylie over, this way, you won’t be alone in that cage. Teach you two to threaten my job.”

“You leave Kylie the fuck out of this you psycho!”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I bet you’d both look great on all fours, like the worthless dogs that you are.”

Lucy roared in fury and charged down the hall, her veins coursing with adrenaline and hatred. Penny thought that she was prepared but the cage had done a number on her back and her muscles had stiffened. Lucy’s punch was wide and would have been easily blocked but Penny couldn’t react in time and with a dizzying clap, the punch to her cheek sent her head into the concrete wall. Penny saw stars as she tried to blink away the disorientation. Lucy grabbed two fistfuls of Penny’s hair and violently slammed Penny’s head into the floor.

“What’s the code?! What’s the fucking code?! You let me out or I’ll fucking beat you to death!”

Penny choked on blood and nausea. She hadn’t expected Lucy to be so aggressive and her wounds were quickly adding up. Lucy paused long enough for Penny to cough out a few words.

“Four...eight...nine...seven…”

Lucy let go of Penny’s head and rushed to the door. She punched the numbers in and the magnetic seal broke. She bolted out of the door, completely oblivious to the fact that she was naked save for her diaper, and ran out into the street. An elderly black lady was tending to some flower beds just down the road when she heard Lucy’s cries for help. She got to her feet the best she could and as the barely clothed girl ran towards her, she heard a name being called out.

“Lucy?!”

Henrietta turned just in time to see a familiar young girl bolt past her, heading towards the girl in distress. Lucy ran into Kylie’s arms, crying and distraught.

“Not so fast you little bitch!”

The three of them turned to see Penny, hobbling down the street with something in her hand.

“You leave her alone! Clause 13!” Kylie screamed.

“Enough!” Penny shouted, pushing a button. Lucy tensed immediately as an electric current ran through her body and into Kylie’s.

“Penny! No! Stop it! You’re hurting them!” Donna yelled, finally catching up to the excitement.

“No! They need this! They need to know their place!” Penny bellowed. She let go of the button and then held it down again.

“Not like this! This is cruelty, not therapy!”

“You were always too soft. Too quick to worry about feelings.”

“Because we are supposed to care for them, not hurt them!”

“Care? For these spoiled little shits who’s parents couldn’t be bothered to raise them properly? Why? For what? For a measly living spent wiping asses and padding egos?”

“To help them.”

Penny let go of the button and the two girls lay trembling on the ground. “Help? Do we really help them? Or anyone? This world is so full of degenerates that it’s hard to tell what’s normal anymore. This isn’t normal. This isn’t therapy. This is a perversion of what we set out to do.”

“I disagree. I’ve seen real change in these girls. They were enemies and now they have become friends. What’s perverse is your predilection to inducing pain. You can’t heal by hurting, not like this.”

They turned towards the sound of a vehicle rolling towards them. It was a black panel van. Inconspicuous, but menacing. It stopped next to them and two rather large men got out, followed by a thin woman. The men opened the side of the van and picked up Lucy and Kylie.

The girls were placed carefully inside and the door shut behind them.

The woman approached Donna and Penny, disregarding Henrietta altogether.

“It has been made aware to us that a Clause 13 has been requested, is that correct?”

“Before-” Penny started.

“A simple yes or no is required.” The woman said, cutting Penny off.

“Yes.” Donna said.

“Very well. Dr. Donna Duncan and Ms. Penny Carver, you are both hereby suspended from all Institute affairs pending a ruling by the council. Your hearing date is tomorrow at 9 a.m. sharp. That is all.” The woman spun on her heel and returned to the van, which promptly drove off, taking the girls with it.

Donna felt her heart break as the van passed out of sight. Kylie was probably terrified, isolated and alone, and it was all Donna’s fault. If she hadn’t gotten her to see Lucy, had she not rushed the program, had she not wanted what was best for the both of them, and had she just taken Kylie straight home, then none of this would have happened. Wracked with guilt, Donna headed home, the diaper bag hanging from her shoulder a monument to her sins. In trying to do what was right, she had lost it all.