It's a Ma/d/ Ma/d/ Ma/d/ World! Pt.3

For those who came here wondering why the last section only got posted part way, I was banned.  For banned text, but I don't know what that would be.  Regardless, I'm not pissing in the face of the mods. It's their site.  Whole thing is here.



D.)  As you are carried across the food court, your mind begins to return to you and you realize how embarrassed you should be, being brought to orgasm in a public place.  Your cheeks do indeed go red and your stomach begins to flutter.  And yet, you do not freak out like you might have two days ago. Perhaps you suspect that in this world, what you did was not all that strange.  Maybe you're finally starting to crack after two days of constantly feeling awkward and you cannot summon the ability to care anymore.  Regardless, as your mind tries to reel at what you have done, you find yourself instead focusing on Crystal's voice as she hums.  You feel it as her chest resonates with the pleasantly slow tune.  You want to hear more and lean your ear against her chest.  You cling more closely to her as she carries you, apparently a great deal stronger in this dimension.  Although, you had to admit, you had always been on the small size.  You let yourself be carried.  You'd get a fresh diaper soon and then you would feel a great deal better.  You suppose there was some truth to what they kept telling you when they changed you.  Whatever, that was just logic.
	You don't notice it until you enter the room, but Crystal takes you into the women's bathroom.  And you two are not alone.
	“Oohhh, that's just precious,” Your mother is washing her hands and looking up to see the two of you enter.
	“Yup, a regular magic moment,” Sam chuckles as she leans against the wall by the door.
	Now the embarrassment catches up.
	“Shut up, Sam,” You try to stutter something more but instead just bury your face in Crystal's shoulder.
	“Aww, I don't mean nuthin Nony,” the redhead replies, “You look cute is all.”
	“Samantha,” Crystal's curt, polite voice cuts into the argument, “You and I will be having words later.”
	Sam balks at her roommate’s tone and sputters, “Come on Crissie, I was just trying to help.  I even left the remote for you!”
	“You did what?” Your mother reminds the punkish girl she was listening.
	Sam's face goes white at your mother's question, “I, well, I thought it would be kinda fun to, uh-”
	“And did my son agree to such a treatment?  Did he agree to you doing that to him in public?” Mom is crossing her arms now, a familiar pose assumed when any of you three had gotten in trouble in the past.  She looks to you, and you cringe at her demanding expression.  You softly shake your head no and prepare to explain, but your mother does not wait.
	“Samantha Esteban Rodriguez,” Sam flinches as your mother growls her full name, “I think we need to have another talk about teasing and respecting my son's personal boundaries.”
	For all Sam's bluster, she had never once been able to stand her ground in the face of your mother's wrath for long.
	“It was just a joke,” the redhead gave a valiant effort, but your mother's hand shot out and snatched her ear in a death grip.
	“Now,” Mom says, leading the girl out the door, Sam following in a desperate attempt to preserve her cranial symmetry.
	Crystal allows herself a brief smirk that any sibling would after watching their sister get their just desserts before looking back at you, “Right, I believe you still have a messy nappy that needs some attention.” You bashfully nod, and the blonde smiles serenely before taking you into a large stall.  Inside is a much larger version of the foldout changing tables you would see in most public restrooms down to an enlarged cartoon Koala sticker.  Crystal leans over and thumbs a button.  The table immediately folds out to reveal a thin changing mat and cloth buckle laying where your waste would be.  The blonde gently hefts you onto the table and you lay down without being told.  She quickly buckles you around your stomach, though you don't see why.  Whatever made it go faster you supposed.  Crystal begins to softly hum again as she unpacks the changing bag.  She then pulls down your plastic pants and you lift your bottom to help her do so.
	The tapes are popped on your diaper and she folds it back.  Evidence of your recent elicit activities is painted along the extra pad inserted into the diaper and glistens on your bare skin.  The smell of sex mixed with baby powder wafts out in an odd combination.
	“Oh my,” Crystal whispers to you, a familiar look in her eye, “You really let out a lot didn't you sweety?  You must have really enjoyed yourself.”  You cringe at the words and avoid making eye contact.
	“Oh come now darling,” the blonde continues as she places the wet wipes on the table, “Are you saying you didn't enjoy yourself at least a little bit?  I think I have proof.”  She reaches down and grasps the pink cord still leading out of your rear.
	Your girlfriend gives it a gentle tug and you almost yelp at the feeling, “I am serious Anonymous.  If you really aren't comfortable with this sort of thing, I will never force you.  I appreciate you going outside of your comfort zone for me, but I want both of us to be happy.”  You meet her eyes and realize that despite her playful tone, she is quite serious.  You could tell her to stop right now and you'd never hear another word of it.  You ponder that for a moment.  Did you want her to stop?  Before now, you'd never have even tried this sort of thing, but could you say you didn't enjoy any of it?  The more odd parts of it aside, Crystal seemed genuinely happy, and well, she DID have proof you'd enjoyed some of it.  Except for the diaper nonsense, you can't deny that part of you likes having her in charge, enjoys having Sam in control, and feels safe whenever the two of them hold you.  There was also the quick rush of knowing what you were doing and not stopping, regardless of who was around.  You could do without so much teasing from Sam or coddling from Crystal, but maybe you shouldn't throw out the baby with the bathwater.  Heh, there was an apropos phrase.
	You slowly smile back at Crystal and place your hand around hers as she grips the toy, “I didn't say I wanted to stop.  Let's just... take it slow.  And gentle?  I'm, ah, new to this.”
	You blonde friend beams down at you and nods, “Nice and slow Anonymous. I promise.  Now, deep breath sweety.”  You do as you are told and slowly, she pulls the toy loose.  You feel your rectum stretch as the egg gently exits you and plops onto the padded diaper.  Your manhood gives one last jump at the feeling before resting back against your stomach.
	“There, nice and easy,” she practically hums as she takes the toy in a wet wipe and cleans it thoroughly before sealing it in a plastic bag and burying it in the bottom of the diaper bag.  She then gently cleans your bottom, careful not to irritate your sore nethers.  After that, your privates are wiped clean until you feel completely fresh.  The whole time, you let your thoughts drift and try to get used to the treatment.  You will need to to survive the coming days until you felt safe telling them you'd rather not spend the rest of your life in diapers.  You do your best to relax and treat the process like sort of a massage.  As Crystal replaces the pad in your diaper, an entire change being unnecessary, you ponder this strange world.  After two or three days, you realize you still haven't a clue about how it all works.  You wish you knew more.  It might help you avoid trouble in the future.  The soft sounds of the changing disappear and a silence you recognize fills the room.  You look up to see Crystal frozen in mid change as she lifts the diaper up to be folded over your crotch, the nappy vertical in the air.
	Oh great.
	“Hiya fella!” Harvey announces as she pops into existence on your chest, still the size of a small doll, “I hear someone's been getting curious.”
	You have a brief moment of panic that she can apparently read minds now before you growl, “Go away.”
	“Aww, is that any way to talk to your teacher?” she squeaks back, “And here I was going to give you a crash course on this dimension's kinky little underbelly.”  The diminutive djinn crosses her arms and puffs a bit of air past her lips to lift her bangs.
	“You aren't going away until I humor you are you?” you ask her.
	“Nope!” she replies, “And who says I'm ever going away?”
	You blanch at that declaration, but she continues before you can argue, “Luckily, your teacher is feeling lazy today, so it's video day in class!”  Harvey snaps her fingers and an actual miniature film projector appears on your stomach like a relic from the fifties.  The device whirs to life and a small picture is projected against to bright white of the inside of the diaper being held in front of you.
	“What is this, a movie for ants?” you mutter, but the genie swats your chest.
	“Quiet! This is gonna be good,” she says as a bucket of popcorn poofs into existence in her hands.  The picture slowly comes into focus in the form of a black and white film resembling an old PSA.  Harvey appears on the screen giving a military salute before opening her mouth and letting out a sound like the scream of an eagle.  The words 'A Patriotic Pervert Picture' appear in bold letters over the screen before it fades to black.
	“Nice alliteration,” you mutter.
	“Thanks,” comes the reply, “I was going to go with 'A Kickoff for Kindred Kinksters Production' but you can imagine how awkward that got.” You nod.
	The film opens up on what looks like a laboratory with a woman in a white lab coat standing with her back to you.
	With a flourish, she turns to reveal the genie wearing a pair of thick spectacles and a fake mustache to shame Magnum P.I., “Hallo mein young proteges in perversion, I am Doctor Klaus Kinkster, PHD in S.E.X.”
	“This is ridiculous,” you grumble.
	“Yeah,” Harvey garbles through a mouthful of popcorn, “My uncle's been in America for years and he still has that accent.”
	“You may recognize me from such films as 'So I've Been Turned Into the Opposite Sex', 'Why is Her Dick Bigger than Mine?', and 'How to Date a Centaur and Keep Your Pelvis Intact.' ya?  Vell, today we will be talking about being sent to another dimension by a meddling, but rougishly sexy Djinn.”
	“Aww, thanks Uncle Kink!” Harvey shouts at the screen.
	“You are velcome,” the scientist seems to reply before adding, “Is what I would say were said Djinn watching.  Now, this film deals vit the universe 'AB2016' a fascinating universe vere the human race views the act of potty training as optional.  As the more uptight among you might surmise, this has had interesting affects on Society.”
	“I am not uptight,” you mumble.
	“Yes you are,” the movie shoots back, “Is what I would say if some uptight, but still really cute young man tried to insist that he vasn't.  Zi roots of this universe's habits begin when somewhere along zi time of zi Romans, women began to develope a new type of muscle, one more efficient than any found in males that allowed them more strength than the normal male of the same build, ya?  Because of zis, the female population began to be able to demand more from society and the Roman Empire began to resemble a Matriarchy. With zis change, the place of the nurturer became venerated in culture and the period of childhood began to baloon.  As with many cultural changes, zis eventually evened out, but a subsect of the culture still celebrated the idea of the nurturer and the young vone as a relationship between consenting adults.  Today, because similar events took place across the globe, this idea lives on in a number of subcultures, although those that practice are only a handful in a number of thousand.”
	“That makes no damn sense,” you roll your eyes.
	“Ya it does,” the movie argues again, “Is what I would say to that same boy if he did not shut his pretty complaint hole.”  Magnum P.I. Genie then reached off screen and pulled down a large screen with a series of cartoons on it.
	“So here ve have a set of the more common subsects of the culture,”  the djinn points to a picture of a young woman walking around in normal looking clothes save for a bulge around her bottom, “You can see here a girl who remains mostly self sufficient save for placing her bathroom needs in ze hands of another.  Even if she cannot find her caretaker, she will most likely easily find someone willing to change her should she require it.  Zis is common curtesy in this world, ya?  Though most men are not expected to do so, it is not seen as a bad thing either.  Gender roles and all dat.”
	The instructor's finger drops to a picture of a young man wearing childish overalls and casually chewing on a pacifier, “And here ve see an example more towards the center of the spectrum.  Ze man here favors the accutraments of a young boy and likely requires a bit more care from his chosen nurturer.  That said, he has less control over certain things such as his wardrobe. Some enjoy this due to the carefree mindset that comes with it, while the caretaker enjoys the feelings of being needed and caring for another without the dangers or commitment of an actual child.  Also, romantic feelings still exist between the pair.  It is often mistaken for a maternal or paternal outlet, but studies have shown the relationship is more often built on a sybiotic system of trust mixed with genuine atraction.  And because that was too much science in one sentence: Boobies!  Zere, we have that out of our systems, ya?”
	“I refuse to believe you have a doctorate,” you sigh at the screen.
	“Still mit the complaining diaper boy?” the doctor snaps, “I am not the one getting his nappy changed after making ze big mess, am I?  Is what I would say in the oddly specific circumstance that ze boy from before would be watching this vile being changed.”
	“Uncle Kink really likes being prepared,” Harvey notes as she slurps from a large soda.
	The instructor's hand finally falls to the picture of a pair of lithe adults, a man and woman, in babyish onesies being pushed along in an enlarged stroller, “And finally we see the other end of the spectrum as a pair of cute little ones has given up most of their responsiblities to their chosen caretaker.  This is the most rare subtype due to the increased pressure on both members of the relationship.  That said, those who feel safe in it report a very comfortable lifestyle.  All three of these ideas are accepted by the world at large.  Zis has also mixed with a more libertine attitude toward sexuality than what your home universe has likely exibited to create a world where an individual who 'Goes Back' may entertaine other fetishes such as bondage, gender role or clothing reversal, or any other kink to their perverted little heart's content, provided their partner is cool vith it.”
	You cock an eyebrow at this, but you aren't able to comment before the film continues, “And now I am sure you have many qvestions.  However, I am a movie you idiot and can therfore not answer any of them.  So good luck vith dat.”  Vaguely patriotic music then plays the doctor off before the film ends, the last of the filmstock spinning onto the second reel with the tounge slapping against the machine until it sputters to a stop.
	“So,” Harvey says, tapping the last bit of popcorn out of the bucket and into her mouth, “Any questions?”
	“Many, but I've got one that's bugging me,” you reply, “If this is only a handful of people, well, like me in a few thousand, why do I keep getting eyes from women?  Shouldn't it be more rare?”
	“The percentage of caretakers to those going back is pretty skewed in favor of the former,” Harvey shrugs, “But even then, a lot of those women are into the idea of it when they couldn't really deal with changing someone in real life.”  Your thoughts go to Sam's hesitant nature earlier.  She seemed to want to be more involved, but you could tell the redhead was having trouble.
	“Think of it like yaoi manga,” the djinn offers, “Lots of girls read it, but not so many want to see it in real life.”  That... made a kind of sense you supposed.
	The djinn wipes her hands clean on her sashes and pops onto her feet, “Whelp, gotta go.”
	“Wait,” you argue, “That was only one question!”  But the Djinn just rolls her shoulders and snaps her fingers.  She's gone, along with the projector.  Fates forbid she be useful for once you suppose.  You are snapped out of the thought as the diaper is folded shut by Crystal, a fresh set of pads in place.
	“There, all done,” the blonde notes as she unbuckles you, “Feel better?”  You nod, not looking to argue.  And it did feel better with the warm dry padding between your legs.  No sense being contrary for the sake of it.  With your plastic pants back on, you sit up and follow Crystal out of the bathroom.


	A.)  You follow Crystal out of the washroom and find your mother and Sam waiting for the two of you at the booth.  The redhead is cupping her ear tenderly and you can see the red mark where your mother's grip had been.  The young woman also fidgets in her seat, shifting her weight back and forth.
	“All done you two?” your mother asks.  You both nod, you a bit more sheepishly.
	“Well then, I hate to break us up, but Anonymous still needs to see his boss if I recall,” Mom points out.  Crap!  She's right!
	“Oh darn,” Crystal sighs, “I had a few more things to shop for and I have to hit the pharmacy before it closes.”
	“No problem,” your mother replies with a warm smile, “I can take him.  We'll meet up for dinner.  Is that alright with everyone? Samantha?”  Mom's voice drops an octave at the last word and the redhead nearly jumps at her name and nods furiously.
	“Perfect,” the perky tone is back like it was never gone.  Your mother stands and you fish some nice clothes out of the shopping bags.  Crystal gives you a hug goodbye and Sam pecks you on the cheek before they both leave.  As you watch her go, you could swear you see Sam gently rubbing her bottom.  Mom couldn't have...
	“Shall we dear?”  And you're off.  You make a brief stop by the bathroom solo in order to pull on a nice polo and a new set of stretchy khakis.  The work pants fit snugly, but comfortably over your diaper.  You notice that their elastic design means that they could conform to a smaller diaper if need be... or a much larger one.  You exit the bathroom and then the mall.
	As you drive, your mind shifts to work.  You'd had such a hard time finding work after graduating.  You quickly came to regret your English degree and learned all too quickly how much your love of art and writing mattered in the real world.  But you weren't the type to sit on your rear and feel sorry for yourself. You'd worked any job you could get your hands on in the mean time and saved what pennies you could, all while busting your chops for a position you might not hate.  Then you finally nailed it: assistant editor to an online magazine revolving around science fiction and fantasy stories.  The Black Cat's Inn's bread and butter was reporting on the newest fan craze to hit the stands, usually pre-teen tripe.  But on the side, a number of quality pieces found a platform with the magazine they wouldn't see elsewhere.  The pay wasn't staggering, but you had benefits and you had enough to finally move out on your own.  And all thanks to Ms. Garde, the owner of the site.  You look down at your cast.  That was going to be difficult to type with.  You clench your other hand into a fist and take a deep breathe. You would manage.  This job was worth it.
	“It's alright dear,” you jump at your mother's voice, “You have the job.  They wouldn't call you in to fire you on a Saturday.”  You look into your mother's warm eyes and feel yourself untensing.  She was right, and with the practiced comfort only a mother could offer, she'd helped you see it.
	The car pulls up to the office building where your boss had rented space and you hop out.  Your mother goes off to park as you go inside.  Only a single security guard is at the desk and he waves you on without looking up from his magazine.  Protect and Serve, huh?
	As you reach the seventh floor, you step out into the hall and hear the deafening sound of your diaper crinkling.  Your nerves dance up and down your back and you find it hard to take another step.  Now that you remember it, Ms. Garde was one of the more... imposing people you'd met.  You'd done your best not to break out in a sweat most of the interview as she stared you down from behind her desk, rarely saying a word until you were certain you'd run out of things to say before she threw another question at you.  She didn't strike you as mean, or petty.  Just... intense.  And now you had to face her with what you are quickly realizing is a full bladder.  Shouldn't have drank so much at lunch.  What are you going to do?  You ponder this, almost beginning to pace before you remember the changing room.  With the pads in your diaper and the khaki pants, you could probably wet and not even show.  Then you wouldn't be trying to hold it the whole time.  You look around and see no one in the hall.  No one.  You sweat the idea a bit longer until your bladder reminds you that it would be easier to hide a wet diaper than an embarrassed face while pissing yourself.  You sigh and try to scrunch into an alcove between offices.  You take a deep breathe, and slowly let go.
	You feel your bladder begin to drain and the familiar warmth spreads between your legs.  Standing up, the urine pools right between your thighs before being quickly absorbed.  As your nethers begin to warm up, you find yourself relaxing.  At least one thing less to worry about you suppose.  You snort at the idea that wetting yourself would calm you down, but you dismiss the thought.  It was only to make the next part easier.  You weren't enjoying the actual event.  You straiten up and are thankful for the quality of the diapers your friends bought.  The nappy barely feels damp and the last of the moisture is being whicked away each moment.  You straiten your clothes, psych yourself up, and go to the office across the floor, the new weight of the diaper shifting between your legs with each step.
	You walk past the twin glass doors of the small office space and are greeted with a chipper, “Welcome to The Black Cat's Inn, how may I help- oh! Hi Anonymous!” Sitting at the receptionist's desk is Penny Stockings, the secretary.  The pleasantly plump woman stood a little shorter than you, but made up for it with a permanently friendly demeanor.  When you'd walked in for the interview, a nervous wreck, she'd tossed you a hard candy and told you you'd do great, her mop of blonde hair bouncing as she nodded the entire time.  The woman's perpetually smiling mouth pulls back in a happy grin, her bubblegum lipstick a perfect match for her personality.
	“I heard you had an awful wreck,” she offers as she turns to you, “And here you are reporting for duty.  You look great sugar-cube.”  You can't help but smile back at her softly southern charm.  You assure her that you are feeling much better and you don't manage to get past her until she'd confirmed that neither you or your family were hurt too badly.
	In mid-conversation however, she froze and for the first time you saw the woman frown as she stared just to the side of your head.  Then you saw her canines as her upper lip pulled back in a scowl and you swear for a split second Penny actually growls.  You take a step back from the woman and she seems to remember where she is as her happy smile pops right back onto her face.
	“Sorry darling, sorry,” she backpedals, “I just remembered I left the stove on at my apartment.  Bad Penny, bad!” she giggles and jokingly slaps her own hand.
	“Go on ahead dearie, I'll buzz ahead for you,” the blonde waves you back and you slowly take her invitation, throwing a cautious glance back her way.  That was... off.  Well, you didn't have time or motivation to push it further.  Everyone had odd little moments, right?  You certainly weren't the picture of sanity as of late.  You shrug the matter off and make your way to the back.   You pass a few cubicles and the occasional office before reaching Ms. Garde's door.  Okay.  You can do this.  Say hi, talk, leave.  Easy.  She probably won't even care about the diaper.  Even if she does, that makes her the weirdo in this dimension, right?  Fuck, this place was getting to you.
	You raise your fist to knock, but are beat to the point, “Come in Mr. Doe.”  You give a small jump at the words, but open the door and walk in.  Ms. Garde waits for you inside.  Sitting at her large desk, the dark skinned woman gives you a neutral look as you walk in. Her ebony hair, a mix of strait lengths mixed with a small number of tight dreads for decoration.  What would look like a mess on most women looked clean and attractive as the dreads framed her face nicely.  She wore a coal black business suit with a skirt and had immaculate nails painted a deep crimson to match her lips.  Decorating her desk were a small set of trinkets.  A small statuette there, a toy skeleton there.  You suppose they came with the job.  All of this made no impression on you as you were busy noticing the big difference between your world's boss and this one.  Differences.  Two.... Ms Gravel's chest had had a significant upgrade.  Her suit was clearly engaged in a dire conflict to keep your boss' gifts in check and you wondered how long it could hold out against such a well armed foe.  You should probably not stare... but that was a tall order.
	“Mr. Doe?” Ms. Garde speaks up and quickly force your eyes to her face, “Have a seat please.” You give a quick nod and make your way to the chair in front of her desk.  You are about to sit down when you remember your manners.  You extend a hand toward your superior and give your friendliest, totally not terrified smile.  For a fraction of a moment, Ms. Garde looks at your hand with a hint of surprise before reaching out with her own hand to take yours.  Her long fingers wrap around your hand easily and accept your gentle grip before you let go.  A good handshake was something you'd always practiced; a small but valued part of your demeanor when showing respect.
	Slowly, a faint smile pulls back the corner's of your boss' mouth, “A good handshake Mr. Doe.  An improvement over last time I would say.”  The words roll from her mouth in the charmingly exotic accent you'd come to expect from her.  Her words held an almost french inflection, but resembled more the curling vowels of the Caribbean or New Orleans rather than the nasal note of a Parisian.  You'd never asked where she was from.
	“I always try,” you answer back, wondering what the previous version of you had done upon meeting her.  You ease into the chair and feel the warm diaper form around your bottom.  You do your best to ignore it.
	“Hmmm,” Ms. Doe hums, “I suppose so.  Regardless, I invited you in today so that we could smooth out the details of your work schedule.”
	You nod and she continues, “Obviously, the workload will be a bit lightened due to your injuries.  My sympathies by the way.”
	You thank her and she only gives another smile before going on, “We are an online magazine, so you will be able to work from home mostly anyway.  There will be weekly meetings in person in order to keep everyone strait on where the site is going and I expect you to be able to come in at any time during the work week and even on the weekend should it prove necessary.  Am I understood?”  You fight the urge to lean back from the imposing woman as her tone leaves little place for argument.  Still, you knew these things when you signed up.
	“I understand,” you reply, “That won't be a problem.”
	“Good,” she leans forward a bit, clearly the taller of the two of you, “When do you think you can return?”
	You almost gulp, but consider the question before answering, “Monday, if you need me.”
	“Are you sure?” she asks, a thin eyebrow lifting as she watches you.
	“A job's a job ma'am,” you assure her to the best of your ability, “I have one good hand.”  Once again, the woman looks at you as if she doesn't know what to make of you.  The eyebrow stays raised as she leans back again and just watches you for a moment.
	Then another, wider smile, pulls perfectly across her ruby red lips, “Thank you Mr. Doe.  That is exactly what I want from my employees.  You may pick up your laptop from Penny on your way out.  The instructions for your first day will be in the case.  Let me know if you are unable to work on Monday.  I will not hold it against you, considering your recent troubles.”
	“Thank you Ms. Garde,” you grin back at her and stand up, “I won't let you down.”
	“I doubt that you will,” she replies as you begin to head toward the door, “But one more thing.” You turn to give her a confused look.
	The woman eyes you just below the waist, “I would be happy to change you before you go.”
	Now the nerves start to roil again, “W-what?”
	A long finger extends toward your bottom, “You require a change, do you not?”
	“Well, er, I think it's not too bad ma'am,” you stutter, “I can make it home.”
	“Diaper rash is nothing to court lightly Mr. Doe,” she shakes her head, her braids swinging back and forth, “Please have a seat on the floor.”
	“Honestly Ms. Garde,” you try to argue.
	“Sit,” is her one word rebuttal.  More rapidly than you would think possible, you find yourself on the floor, the warm, wet nappy surrounding your nethers.
	Ms. Garde gives you an approving smirk and places another long finger on the intercom on her desk, “Penny, please bring me a diaper bag.  Mr. Doe requires a fresh change.”
	“Right away boss!” comes the reply.  Your face lights up at the announcement and you cross your arms.
	“There's no need to be upset young man,” your superior assures you as she stands and walks over to you, “We are a very forward thinking company, and the offices windows only go one way.”  The already tall woman towers over your current place on the ground and her long legs bend to bring her coy smile closer to you.
	“Now please lean back while I get your pants off,” what you would give to hear those words from her in another context.  Any other context really.  You awkwardly assume the position and she undoes your belt before rolling the khakis off of your legs.  Your diaper is exposed to the air and the pink nappy is darkened where your urine has soaked in.
	“There, I was right, wasn't I?” your boss' voice softly chides you, her accent making the words oddly appealing.  A quick set of knocks at the door grab both of your attentions.
	“Come in Penny.”  The door opens and the blonde bustles her way in with a small cloth bag.
	“Here you go ma'am,” the secretary announces in a singsong voice, “Now be gentle with him.”
	She then looks at you and gives her friendliest grin yet, “Don't worry little guy, she's a real sweety when you get to know her.”
	“That will do Penny,” Ms. Garde announces, her tone clear.  Penny nods and bounces out the way she came, closing the door as she goes.  Your superior gives a one note chuckle and unpacks the bag.  A padded changing mat goes beneath your bottom and a set of cleaning items is set up on either side of you.  The last thing to leave the bag is a large, folded diaper.  And it's black.  The onyx nappy is decorated with a series of cartoon skulls with a number wearing tiny bows or ribbons.  You both look at the diaper and then to one another.
	Your boss shrugs, “Penny buys them.”  You find yourself shrugging too.
	“Lets get started shall we?” Ms. Garde reaches forward and pulls the tabs of your nappy loose.  The front is folded forwards and your nethers laid bare.  Your hands shoot to cover yourself.
	“Now Mr. Doe,” your superior chides you, “We are going to be in this position a lot over the coming years.  No need to be shy.”  She reaches for your wrists and easily pushes them back.
	She then gets a good look at you and adds, “No reason at all by my reckoning, hmm?”  You blush at the compliment.  The diaper is pulled out from underneath you and set aside.  She then plucks a wet wipe from the pack and begins to clean.  Where Sam had been quick and agile, and Crystal was practiced and gentle, Ms. Garde was different.  Her long, dextrous fingers carefully ran the wipe over your privates in a fashion that was almost agonizing.  The wipe ran over your bottom and nethers slowly, with attention spent at each point.  Her motions made circles across your flesh that made goosebumps rise.  The whole process became more intense when she reached your privates.  Already beginning to react to her motions despite yourself, your manhood felt every movement of her fingertips as she brought a fresh wipe up and down your shaft.  You held your breathe and tried to think of anything else as she worked, but you were certain that was the opposite of her intent.
	You dare a look up at her and her dark, grinning eyes look back at you, “Are you alright Mr. Doe?”
	You do your best to nod, “I-I think I'm clean ma'am.”  A lovely note of agreement rumbles in her throat as Ms Garde puts the wipe aside and reaches for the lotion.  Oh come on.  That was unfair.  Her hands return to her work and no amount of baseball or England can keep you from noticing how heavenly her hands are.  She notices your rising interest in her work and gives a soft sigh through smiling lips.
	“You know I cannot get the diaper on with you like this Mr. Doe.”
	“S-sorry,” you mumble, “I'll stop.”  You should be struggling, not apologizing.  But damn, it was really hard to fight a woman when you were quite literally in the palm of her hand.
	“On the contrary young man,” your boss corrects you, “It is quite natural.  Your gift is as part of nature as mine.”  She motions to her abundant chest and your eyes can't help but follow.  And your manhood can't help but react.  She feels it twitch in her hands.
	“Ahh, I see,” she chuckles in a low voice, “I think I know a solution.  It is only fair after all.  You have shown me yours as the old saying goes.”  To your shock, she reaches with one hand and unbuttons her blouse to reveal her stunning breasts being held in check only by a black, silken bra.  With a grip at the center of the garment, Ms. Garde pulls the cloth down to free her ample gifts to you.  The marvelous mamaries push out and dare gravity to claim them.  The universal force fails to give a rebuttal as they hang between your legs, delightfully round with just enough slope to deny accusations of man made beauty.  Her dark areola and nipples top the luscious mounds and seem the perfect climax to nature's argument for the perfection of the female form.
	Speaking of climaxes, her other hand is now moving in a motion devoid of all pretense to the  rubbing in of lotion.  You feel your breathe getting faster, but your earlier exploits buy you some time and you manage to resist.
	“I-I think you should stop,” you try to argue.
	“Relax young man,” Ms. Garde's pace quickens, “This is perfectly fine, common courtesy in some cultures.  Just let yourself go, hmm?”  You somehow find the will to shake your head.
	Your superior cocks an eyebrow, “Hmm, a hard bargain I see.  Very well, I think I know what might complete the deal.”  Your boss leans forwards and your manhood comes in contact with her warm bosom.
	You moan at the new sensation and Ms. Garde's smile widens, “Yes, I thought that might do it.”  She takes both hands back and places them on her chest.  With another small lean, your shaft finds itself sandwiched between her marvelous chest.  Sensuously, she begins to massage your manhood, squeezing you more tightly every time she nears the head before backing off as she goes down the shaft.
	This was heaven.
	This was hell.
	You couldn't do this.  You rally your last vestiges of strength, and pull yourself forward.
	You reach out with both hands and grip her wrists, “I'm serious ma'am. I can't do this.”
	“Why?” she asks, letting the word out slowly so that her breath tickles the head of your manhood.
	You suppress a groan and force yourself to look her in the eye, “Because I'm with someone.  I'm with them, and I care about them, and... and I just won't do this to them.  Please. We need to stop.  I can't let go of that.”  The sultry air of Ms. Garde evaporates in a moment as her face falls.
	“I-I see,” she says as she pulls away, freeing you from her bosom's embrace, “You already have a caregiver.”  Rapidly, she pulls her bra up and closes her blouse.  You begin to shrink in the now frigid atmosphere.
	“I'm sorry,” you find yourself offering, “You're, ah, very beautiful, but I can't hurt them.”
	A forced smile pulls back the corners of your boss' mouth, “I understand. I would never have made such... advances had I known.  You... have a stronger will than most Mr. Doe.”  You do?  You can't imagine cheating on Sam or Crystal.  You thought most people wouldn't be able to either.  It just seemed, you don't know, natural.
	You have a brief moment to also ponder workplace etiquette in this world before Ms. Garde straitens herself and looks back at you, “You know Mr. Doe, you seem like a very different person than what I first met.  For the better too.”
	What the hell did the last you act like for YOU to come off as strong willed?
	“Allow me some advice if you can ignore my most recent actions,” she continues, “Do not over-complicate things.  The only thing one person owes another in a relationship is honesty.”
	You cock your head at this, but she goes on, “I was married once.  Did you know that?”  You shake your head.
	Ms. Garde nods, “I loved him, and I think he loved me back in his way, but we had two different hearts.  He wanted to be like you. He wanted to go back.”
	Ms. Garde seems to sag as she spoke, “But he wanted more.  He wanted to place all of himself in my hands... and I could not hold him.  I wanted to be there for him, but I never shared his desires.”  A sad smile plays across her lips, “I could enjoy it to a point, but after a time, I wanted my lover back, not what he wanted to be.  But I tried to force myself to stand by him, to encourage him.  I ended up resenting him because I could not simply be honest with him or myself.  I lost years to that lie Mr. Doe.”
	“I'm sorry Ms. Garde,” you offer.
	She shakes her head, “It was our own mistake, but one I have learned from.  I hope wherever he is, he is happy.  So understand me when I say you should be honest with them.”
	You weigh the words and think them over, “I will.”
	Your boss gives a soft chuckle, “I think you should be honest about disliking the diapers as well.”
	You jump at that, “I, how?”
	“It is obvious,” Ms. Garde smirks, “You wear yourself on your sleeves.  Some would call it nervousness, but I see a bit more.”
	“I don't think they're ready for me to stop,” you explain, examining your stomach and not meeting her gaze.
	“I didn't say stop,” your superior corrects you.  You look up again.  That made no damn sense.
	She grins slowly down at you and reaches for the baby powder, “You cannot hate what you won't try.  You're fighting it, so of course you do not enjoy it.”
	She begins to sprinkle the powder over your nethers, a white cloud forming over your bottom, “Take my advice.  Try it.  Throw yourself into it if only for a few days.  No more finding excuses or making a fuss.  Just see what there is to it.  Then, you can be honest with yourself.  And then you can be honest with them.”
	She places the new diaper in place and folds it over your stomach, “Besides, there is always something to be said for the feeling of letting go, one way or the other.”  She gives a final chiding smile as she tapes you shut and slides you pants back on.  She helps you to your feet and motions to the door.
	“Off with you Mr. Doe.  I expect great things from you,” she says as she opens the door, “And one more thing.”
	You turn to hear her ask, “Your caretaker.  You have more than one yes?”
	You blush and nod, “Yes ma'am.  Two.”
	She hmms and replies, “Two? I thought it might have been three.”
	You furrow your brow.  What did that mean?
	“My mother is helping out, but I wouldn't consider her the same as the girls.”
	“I wasn't speaking of her,” Ms. Garde says, her dark eyes hiding something, “But regardless, you will let me know if there is room for a fourth, won't you?”  You are dumbstruck at the suggestion and end up mumbling nonsense.
	Ms. Garde gives a lovely little laugh and closes the door, “Goodbye Mr. Doe.”

So, what now?
A.) Dinner with the group
B.) More errands (which ones?)
C.) Consider Ms. Garde's advice (yes/no/a mix)
D.) An event of your own suggestion

E.) Also, was the comedy of the last bit tolerable?  I have trouble telling how a joke comes across in written context.  Let me know where I can improve.

	A/C.) Laptop bag over your shoulder, you make your way down the hall, pondering Ms. Garde's words.  Just let it go?  Throw yourself into it?  You couldn't do that.  Could you?  After all, how could you relax when you were wearing this thing around your waste?  A bit of certainty drains when you remember how calm you were when you were watching the movie with Crystal and Sam, or when you fell asleep in their arms.  You can't even remember the feeling of the diapers then.  And you did sleep pretty soundly on the first night.  Then again, you were drugged weren't you?  That said, the girls had seemed just as happy as you at those points, and mom was definitely carrying herself differently.  The elevator door opens and you step in, careful to press the button with your free hand.
	If this made them happy, you should at least consider it.  Not seriously convert, but, well, you could admit to yourself that the extra attention could be nice.  Hell, you might not be with Sam and Crystal if you hadn't been in that, er, position.  Maybe a few days seeing what this could be like without all the kicking and screaming wouldn't kill you.  If you were going to be doing this anyway for a time, why stress so much?  Then you can walk away with a clear head like your boss said.  You find yourself shrugging to no one.  It would sure make Mom and the Girls happy, and no one really cared.  Why not take a vacation from your self-imposed ulcers and just let go?  No pun intended... you hope.  Stepping off the elevator, you made a decision: whatever came over the next day or two, you'd do your best to give it a shot.  Yeah! No more freaking out.  No need to tense up.  Screw it! You could do this.  Hell, you'd cheated death two days ago, what can diapers do to you? What can anything after all this?
	Well, a door is still solid, and your arm is still broken, so using it to open the heavy glass door at the front of the building turns out to be a bad idea.  You probably should have been paying more attention to using the correct hand than the pep talk.  Pain shoots up your arm and you yank your hand back.  However, the door has little patients for your agony and promptly closes.  On your face.  The glass swings back and bonks you right on the noggin.  You yelp a curse and push the door back, this time with the correct hand.  You stumble through the exit and out into the sunlight, practicing the plethora of swears you had gained from half a lifetime around Sam.
	“Oh Anonymous,” you hear your mother call, “Are you alright baby?”  You look up to see her concerned face manning the driver's seat as the car idled.  You put on a grimace and wave her off.  You walk over and plop into the passenger side seat.
	A bottle pops into view, “Here sweety, only take one. The doctor's gave us a home supply of pain killers.”  The prescription might as well be for ambrosia at this point and you begin to fumble with the top.
	Your mother chuckles and gently takes the bottle back, “Let me.”  She removes the cap and shakes a single tablet of relief out.
	She holds it between her fingers, “Say ahh.”  Your reflex is to just take the pill with your fingers, but you remember your decision.  No fighting it.  Why make a big deal out of something this small?  You open your mouth and even manage a small 'ah'.  She pops the pill in and lifts a bottle of water to your lips.  You gulp the medicine down and lay back in the seat.  Soon.  You glare at your arm.  Soon mother fucker. Your mother puts the car into gear and you are off.
	“I was talking with the girls on the phone,” she announces, pulling into traffic, “We decided that we'd eat out, my treat.  How does Italian sound?  Anna Maria's?”  You nod happily.  You'd always loved the often pricey restaurant.
	“Thank you,” you reply, suddenly feeling a lot better with the prospect of good food on the horizon.
	“Good.  I'll drop you at the door and the girls will meet you inside when they get there.  Take my credit card.”
	You look back to your Mom, “You aren't staying?”
	She gives a soft laugh, “I thought you and the girls might enjoy another sleep over.”
	You blush a bit and scratch at your cheek, “Well, maybe, but you don't have to-”
	Mom reaches over and brushes your hair, her nails softly scratching your scalp, “Don't worry sugar, you're still my little Anon.  I'll catch up later.”  You lean into the hand briefly and the two of you share a brief moment of familial love.  The car goes into a pleasant quietness as you drive until you reach the restaurant.  You get out and your mother blows you a kiss before driving off.  You straiten up and look around.  You know the diaper is quite visible beneath your pants and can't help but survey the area.  However, as has become usual, no one gives you a second look. You quash the feelings in your gut and lift your shoulders.  If they don't care, you don't care.  Right?
	You enter into the front door and see a brunette hostess waiting at the front.  She looks at you and her eyes widen in an expression of pleasant surprise.
	The hostess announces, “Welcome to Anna Maria's Sir.  Are you meeting someone, or will you be dining alone?”  Her voice raises a bit at the last part and she seems almost hopeful that you are on your own.  You've never been a Lothario but her posture and eyes seem like she is interested in doing more than serving you.
	“I'm meeting someone,” you reply, “A blonde and a redhead.”  You describe them, but the hostess shakes her head, still keeping her smile.  They must be late.  You ask for a table for three and the young woman happily leads you to the back.  You carefully follow her, your waddle still present.  You were a bit faster than this morning though.  Maybe you're getting the hang of walking in a diaper.  'Well, it was bound to happen', you force yourself to admit, 'No biggie'.
	You are seated and the hostess asks you for a drink order.  You ask for a coke and she scribbles it down before reading off the specials.  You thank her and before she leaves, she steps closer and in a soft voice says, “Also sir, if you need any special attention, any of our female staff would be happy to attend you.  My name is Tammy by the way.  You can ask for me if you like.”  You stifle your first reaction and instead thank her.  As she leaves, you find yourself staring at your napkin.  That... was easy.  And you feel fine.  Sure, your gut still wanted to somersault over the idea of what you were doing, but you'd yet to face a consequence.  It wasn't exactly shocking by now, but you knew that you felt a lot better not letting it get to you.  As much.  Maybe.
	You sat for a few minutes, examining the menu, when you suddenly go blind.  Two hands reach around you head and cup over your eyes.
	“Hey crinkle-butt,” a voice announces in your ear, “Waiting long?”
	“I actually just finished,” you reply, reaching up to grip the hands' wrists.
	You pull the hands down and see Sam staring down at you as she leans over your head from behind, “Aww, Crystal was hoping to feed you too.”  She leans down and captures your mouth in an upside-down kiss.  You feel her tongue take a quick poke at your lips before she pulls back.
	“Samantha, I said no such thing,” Crystal clucks her tongue at her friend and follows up Sam's kiss with her own on your forehead.
	“So what have you two been up to?” you ask as the two sit down.
	“Shopping mostly,” Crystal replies.
	Sam grins like the cat who ate the canary, “Oh yeah.  We bought things Nonny.  We bought so many things.  Oh the things we bought!”
	Crystal's cheeks tint red and she leans over to the redhead, “Sam! Not hear.”
	“Alright, we'll keep them a surprise,” she holds up her hands and pacifies the blonde before throwing you a wink.  You find the hairs on your neck rising at the thought of what they could have bought while you were gone.  The three of you chat all the way until your food arrives and a plate of pasta is placed in front of you.  You reach for your fork and begin to make an awkward go at the plate.  With your off-hand, you manage to slowly cut the pasta but make little progress.
	Crystal's well manicured hand gently rests on yours and you look up into her green eyes, “Would you like some help Anonymous?”  Well, it was going to take forever at this rate anyway.  You nod and Crystal happily takes the food and begins to cut it up for you.  You feel a bit childish watching her do so, but at least you'll get to eat.
	“There,” Crystal announces as she finishes.  However, she doesn't offer your fork back.  She looks back up at you and you can guess what she is about to ask.  Before either of you can say anything however, you hear a familiar giggling behind you.
	“Oh my, what are the chances?” comes a bubbly voice from behind.  You turn to see a pleasantly plump blonde standing there, her purse over her arm.
	“Penny?” you ask.
	“I know!” she laughs back, “I thought I'd be getting some dinner on the way back from work and look who I find.”
	“Anonymous?” Crystal gives a confused look, “Who is this?”
	Penny's eyes shoot up to your friends and she doesn't miss a beat, “Oh you must be his caretakers.  My name is Penny, Penny Stockings.  Your friend works with me.  Well, little old Penny is just the secretary, but we're all family at the Cat's Inn!”
	The girls introduce themselves.  Crystal is pleasantly polite, but Sam gives Penny a skeptical look.  This is cut off however when Penny grabs her hand and shakes it furiously.  The redhead seems to warm to her when she realizes it's not an act.
	“Well, I just wanted to say hi darlin',” she eventually says, “I'll be on my way.”
	“No need Ms. Stockings,” Crystal replies, “Please join us. I'd love to hear more about Anonymous' work.”
	“Oh, well, I couldn't impose.”
	“Nah, have a seat,” Sam insists.  You even find yourself nodding along.  That was Penny for you.  Weaponized happiness.  She scoots into a seat next to Crystal and picks up the conversation right where she left off.  You see your chance and reach for your fork.  Penny and Crystal continue to hit it off like gangbusters and Sam scarfs her food and watches with the occasional comment of her own.  You carefully balance some food on your fork and bring it to your mouth.
	“So Nonny, who's the boss at your job?” Sam asks.  You look to her and a string of pasta slips free onto your shirt.
	“Oops,” the redhead notes.  Crystal looks over and sighs.  She snags a napkin before you can grab your own and begins to wipe down your chest, “Honestly Anonymous, if you need help you only need to ask.”
	“I got it,” Sam adds, snagging an extra fork and skewering a bit of food, “Open wide Nonny.”  Well, you had agreed you'd let them have their fun.  And you were apparently all thumbs.  Even more than usual come to think of it.  Maybe the pain pill was a bit of a drastic measure.
	You surrender to your circumstances and open your mouth.  Sam shoves the fork in and you chew.  She giggles at the act and you actually snicker along with it. The redhead is making the motions over-dramatic and the levity actually makes the process feel less embarrassing.
	You suspect she is about to make air plain noises when Penny comments, “Oh you three are precious. Ms. Garde would love you.”
	“You mentioned she was head of the newspaper,” Crystal says.
	“Yup,” Penny pipes up, “She's a sweetheart.  She's thrilled to have your little Anonymous on board.  The boss even changed him today.”  Both of the girls exchange a look, subtle trepidation in their eyes.
	“You don't say,” Sam says, halting the fork midair.
	“Oh yes,” Penny replies, oblivious to the tone in Sam's voice, “I got to choose the diaper and it is the cutest thing too!”
	“I see,” Crystal nods before looking to you, “Did she do alright Anonymous?  Are you comfortable?”
	All eyes are on you now and you try to stutter a reply, “Yeah, er, she did great.  No, uh, leaks. Comfortable diaper?”
	“Thank you!” Penny chirps.
	Sam and Crystal seem to relax and the blonde looks to the secretary, “I have to apologize Ms. Stockings.  We're just very protective of our Anonymous.”
	“Yeah, he's our squirt,” Sam adds, “Has been since we were all little.”
	“Ohoho, I can certainly understand,” Penny chuckles, “He is very special.  I can already tell.”  You are the only one to raise an eyebrow at the comment.  Not because of the words exactly, but the way her eyes darted to just beside your head once more.  Odd.
	“Well, it's good to know there is someone at the office he feels comfortable with,” Crystal notes as she begins to eat again.
	“Oh yes sugar-cube,” the other blonde agrees, “She'd make a wonderful caretaker for him.”
	“Uh, well,” you begin to stutter, unsure of how the girls would take that.  You still weren't sure what it meant.  While you do, Sam misses a bite and smears marinara across your cheek. You give her a perturbed look and she feigns innocence.
	“Hmmm,” Crystal weighs the suggestion, “It would be nice to have a dedicated person available for him.  What do you think Anonymous?”
	“Well,” to sputter, cheeks going crimson, “She is very, um, nice?”
	“Would you be cool with her changing you all the time then?” Sam asks, taking a jab at making your cheeks match.  You pull back from the fork and think for a moment.  You couldn't exactly have the girls stop by at lunch to give you a fresh nappy when you were in the office.  And it would mean you didn't have to hope for a stranger to change you when needed.  And she had that amazing set of – NO.  Not going there.  But the first two reasons stood.
	“Yes, I think so,” you eventually answer before snapping forward to catch the fork between your teeth and give yourself a reason to stop talking.
	“Ohh goody!” Penny bounces in her seat, “And I can help too.  And babysit!” What?
	“I'm sorry?” Crystal asks, echoing your thoughts.
	“If you two are busy, I can watch him!” the secretary goes on as if she'd struck a note of genius, “I promise I'll be gentle and use good lotion and make sure he's just as happy when you get back as you left him.”
	“We do have jobs Cryssie,” Sam points out, “And we can't always trade him off.”
	“I suppose we can try it,” Crystal admits, “Do you have any experience?”
	“Lots! Trust me,” Penny replies, “I chose that cute number he's wearing right now and he just said he loved it.”  There was a paraphrase if you'd heard one.
	“Well, I guess we can exchange numbers,” Crystal agrees.  Conversation continues for a time, and Sam continues to feed you, sticking her tongue out and trying to make you laugh as she spoons pasta into your mouth.  Your chin was a bright red now, but you were trying too hard not to laugh to notice.
	Crystal and Penny are speaking in hushed tones at one point and you try to split your attention to catch a few words.
	You hear 'Are you sure it will work?  The ones I'm taking aren't-' followed by a 'I promise.  It's surefire from the bosses lips!'.  The last one distracts you enough to miss the meatball being pushed at your face and the ball of protein slips from the fork to hit your chest.  The sphere sticks and slowly rolls down your shirt, leaving a bright red stain.  Now you have Crystal's attention.
	“I swear Samantha,” the blonde scolds, “You're more child than any of us and Anonymous is in diapers!”  You both shrink at the statement and Crystal reaches to grip your chin.  She takes her napkin and begins to clean your face, causing you to fidget as she works.
	Crystal clucks her tongue, “He's going to need a bath now.”
	“Hey,” Sam finds her voice, “I'll do it.  I can give him a bath just fine.”
	“Have you ever bathed anyone Samantha?” Crystal raises an eyebrow.
	“We all used to bathe together,” the redhead points out, “How hard can it be?”
	The blonde sighs as she wipes the last sauce from your chin, “I was going to stop by Penny's place too.”
	“Then do it!” Sam snaps, “I'll take him back myself.  I can handle him Crystal.”
	“I'd be happy to give you a ride back,” Penny chimes in, oblivious as usual.
	Crystal falters, “Well, I.”
	“Cool,” Sam huffs, “Problem solved.  Lets get the check.”  Before you can offer any opinion of your own, the bill is paid and you find yourself sitting next to Sam on the ride home.
	The redhead is driving with a heavy foot and grumbling as she goes, “Can't trust me she thinks.  Not responsible.  I'll responsible the shit out of him, then see what she says.”  You cringe in your seat and keep your head down.  Not because of Sam's attitude. You'd seen her on a tare before.  No, it was dinner that wasn't sitting well.  Come to think about it, your legs felt a bit loose.  That pill must still be processing.  You always were a lightweight.  Thankfully, you aren't passing out or about to vomit, but you felt it a good idea to bow your head for a bit.
	You eventually feel the car stop and the engine cut off.
	“Coming Nonny?” Sam asks as she gets out, still a bit miffed.  You nod and try to get out of the car.  As you rise though, your knees wobble and you fall back against the car.  In a flash, Sam is next to you.
	“Whoa there little guy,” She says softly, all anger gone, “You alright? What's going on?”
	“Just, just a pain pill from before dinner,” you mumble, trying to find your balance.
	“Ahh,” Sam replies, getting a shoulder underneath yours, “You shouldn't take those on an empty stomach Squirt.  They'll fuck you up.  Especially you.”  You nod. You know that now, thank you.
	“Come on, lets get you inside,” the redhead offers, “A nice bath for my little guy and then bed, kay?”
	“Sure,” is your answer and Sam slowly leads you to the apartment and lets you both in.  You're laid on the sofa and you hear the water start in the other room.  Sam makes a phone call and you try to clear your head.  You were doing a lot better than the other night with mom, but that had been a cocktail of drugs at the time.  You still felt woozy though.
	“Okay,” Sam returns to your side, “You remember my cousin, the nurse?  She says you'll be cool.  Shouldn't last much longer.  Ready for a bath?”  You give the redhead a smile to show her you were okay and start to get up.  Not skipping a beat, Sam is under you and leads you to the bathroom.  You stand next to the running tub and start to take your shirt off.  You find your motor skills lacking and the shirt tangles on your head.
	“Oh jeez Nonny,” Sam chuckles softly, “At least you aren't drunk again.  C'mere.”  She pulls you free and then undoes the buckle of your pants.  Normally you'd try to stop her, or in other circumstances you'd encourage her, but you just decide to let her work as she pulls your pants down.
	“Damn,” Sam snorts and you look to see her staring downward, “That... That really is friggin' adorable.  I gotta ask Penny where she got that thing.  Shame to take it off. Ah well.”  Sam fiddles with the tapes and you feel the diaper fall away.  Now naked, and with pale privates from the remaining baby powder, you stand in front of the bath.
	“Okay, um, okay,” Sam looks to you and then the bath, “I got this.  Just need to... Alright no way you're stepping into the bath without breaking your neck.  C'mere.”  Much to your surprise, your girlfriend steps forward and scoops you up in her arms.  You realize women really were stronger in this world as Sam carefully lifts you over the bath and slowly lowers you into the water.  You jump when your bottom comes in contact with the hot water.
	“Hey hey,” Sam scolds you, “No squirming.  Just relax.  I won't burn your cute little tushy.  It's my tushy now.” She winks at you as you very slowly slip into the water.  You hitch your breath at the sudden change, but you soon acclimate.  You realize Sam kept a grip on your right arm, the one with the cast.
	“Hold on darlin',” Sam says, picking up a plastic trash back.  With a rubber band, your cast is sealed from the water.
	“There we go.  Macguyver'ed that shit,” the redhead sighs as she finally pulls back.
	“Thank you Sam,” you reply, “I think I can manage from here.”
	“And miss the fun part?” Sam gives a soft laugh, “No way am I missing naked time with my Nonny.”  She reaches for soap and pours it onto a washcloth.  You notice he Johnson's No Tears formula label and fight the urge to roll your eyes.
	Sam pulls your free arm to her and runs the cloth along your arm, raising suds as she rubs, “Gonna get you all clean babe.”  Her hand grazes your armpit and you jump.  Your girlfriend gives a sly smirk and keeps rubbing.  Each spot she goes to, from your arm, to your chest, to your stomach and legs, she takes her time to find your ticklish spots.  She doesn't dig at them without mercy, but the whole affair leaves you playfully on guard for the next attack.  You find yourself giggling as she works and she starts laughing as well.  You eventually splash her and she returns the favor, the two of you going back and forth.  You almost succeed in pulling her in when she dunks a hand underwater and prods a finger up your rear. You jump and let her go as she pulls her hand back.
	She barks a laugh at this, “That's my Nonny. The way to his heart is up his bum!”
	“Oh shut up,” you pout, sticking out your lip.
	“Ah come on short stuff, you like it.”  You are about to attempt a rebuttal when Sam takes a bucket and dumps bathwater over your head.  You sputter and thrash, your wet hair in your eyes.  Before you can pull it aside, you feel lips on yours and a hand cupping your cheek.  You suddenly have no motivation to struggle anymore.  The lips pull back and you are suddenly drowned again.
	“There, I think that should do it,” Sam announces.
	She reaches down and pulls the plug, “Feel good enough to stand?”  You find you do, the medicine finally starting to wear off.  You get to your feet and Sam produces a large beach towel she uses to rub your entire body down.  She then wraps the whole thing around your now shivering form.  You hug the towel to you and make to get out of the tub, but the redhead beats you too it.  Snatching you up again, she cradles you in her arms and pulls you to her chest.  You look up into her eyes and Sam stares affection back down at you.  You aren't cold now. You feel quite warm really.
	“Come on.  Let's get you back in a diaper.”  With no attempt to put you down, Sam carries you to her room.  She had apparently cleaned as you two do not have to climb over piles of laundry to get to the bed.  Sam stands to the side of the bed and simply falls onto it, you collapsing into her lap as she does so.  She leans against the headboard and for a moment, neither of your move.  Then, instead of moving for the diaper bag, she hugs you to her.  You lean against her chest and try to share more warmth.  For a few minutes, the two of you just lay there, you in her arms.  To your surprise, Sam was a snuggler.  And you find you are too.  The entire apartment is silent and you hear each other breath in a calm rhythm.  With your ear to her chest, you hear Sam's heartbeat and grow warm to it.
	“We- ah.  We should get you in a diaper Nonny.”  You look up to into Sam's eyes as she tries to talk you into getting up.  Instead, you pop your head up and kiss her, your tongue darting out to taste her lips before you pull back.
	“Oh,” Sam says ruefully, “Now you're the instigator?  Come on, Crystal will be home later and she'll kill me if you aren't padded.”  You find yourself feeling more mischievous than that.  All you do is tilt your head back and softly part your lips, your eyes closed.  In most movies, you'd be the damsel waiting for her hero.  But the invitation was the same.  You know you've won when it's her tongue looking to even the score.  She grips you to her and deepens the kiss.  You can feel her pulse quicken and both of you begin to breathe faster.  Your body lights up and you can feel more than see the blush creeping over both of your skin.
	Sam pulls free for breathe and whispers, “Oh now you're going to get it.”

Are you?
A). You and Sam continue
B). Crystal returns home
C.) Crystal returns with Penny
D.) Shenanigans!
A/B.) You two continue a battle of will over your respective lips.  You're most certainly reacting to the exchange of affection and warmth and if the peaks appearing through Sam's shirt are any clue, she is too.  You feel the redhead shift and you notice out of the corner of your eye as her hand slowly reaches under your towel.  You think you know what she's looking for.  You are wrong, however, when she finds your hand beneath the cloth and interlocks her fingers with yours.  She squeezes and you squeeze back and whimper into her mouth, taken aback by her tenderness.
	Sam pulls back with lidded eyes and short breath, but she doesn't throw out a line or try to tease you.  Instead, you feel the arm holding you wrap around your shoulder and pull the towel down enough to expose your shoulder.  The tender punk then kisses you briefly on the lips before planting another on your cheek and another on your jaw.  In a painfully slow fashion, your girlfriend leads kisses down the length of your jaw and then, over a lifetime, leaves a trail of warm marks down your neck.  You quiver in her arms at each caress of her lips and find yourself moaning softly as she finds the crook of your neck and settles into a loving rhythm.  You want to rise and embrace her, but you find yourself simply melting at her touch.
	“S-Sam,” you breath, “Oh that's-that's.” You're struggling for words as you can't seem to find the mental acuity to praise her. To your relief and regret, Sam stops.
	She straitens up to look you in the eye, some of that familiar cockiness in her eyes, “Sure you wanna keep going Nonny?”  You realize she is serious.  She was offering a chance to back out.  The redhead would stop right now if you said so.  Too bad you couldn't.  At least you didn't intend to try.
You want to invite her to continue, but the words stick in your throat.  You never thought you'd be the blushing virgin quite like this.  Instead, you grip the towel in your hands, and do your best to pull it away slowly.  You watch Sam's eyes lock with the edge of the towel as it slowly reveals your nude form.  You catch her eyes again as she looks back up and slowly nod.
	It's Sam's turn to be speechless as she sputters what was probably supposed to be a romantic line, but it dies in her throat.  She eventually manages, “G-great,” and hugs you to her.  You feel the world tilt as she rolls with you on the bed until you are underneath her.  The redhead pops up onto her hands and knees and grins like a kid on her birthday.  Once again, her lips begin to blaze a trail of ecstasy  down your throat and chest, moving at a glacier's pace by your impression.  You watch her as she works and realize she is leaving lipstick marks behind.  Sam, SAM, had put on makeup for you.  How could you not have noticed?  You reach down and caress her hair, running your fingers through her crimson bangs, pulled back in a pony tail.  Her lips place themselves just above your waste and stay there.  She angles her head up and locks eyes with you as she slowly removes her lips from your skin.  She props herself on her hands and then fully sits up between your legs.  You watch her eyes as they run up and down your body, lingering on her favorite parts.  You feel like you should coyly cover up with the way she somehow manages to undress your nude form with her eyes.
	A low, borderline growl rumbles in Sam's chest and she softly utters, “Mine.”  She looks like she is about to pounce on you, but instead pops backwards and onto her stomach, placing her head right between your legs.  She grins at you from behind your own twitching member and brings her hand up to grip you gently at the base of the shaft.  You squirm at her touch and her fingers tighten almost imperceptibly.  Sam's hand loosens and lifts up, dragging her fingertips against your skin and you instinctively try to move against them.  The hand tightens again and you whimper.  Sam lifts a finger on her other hand up and waves it slowly to scold you.
	“C-can't you stop teasing me for once in your life?” you almost moan.
	“Not in the contract sweetie,” she smirks back, but then opens her mouth.  Her tongue snakes out and you watch intently as she leans forward, and gives you a small lick.  You jump at the shock of warmth and do let out a moan this time.  Sam licks again, slightly longer this time and all you can do is writhe in agonizing pleasure.  Your lover continues to take her time, leaving longer and longer licks over the length of your manhood.  She experiments, licking one place and watching you react before prodding another with the tip of her tongue to see if it affected you more.  You're caught up in her ministrations when you feel a familiar prodding at your back door.  You tear your eyes from the ceiling and catch her mischievous look.  Instead of complaining, you just let your head fall back and try to relax.  This was one thing you wouldn't pretend you didn't enjoy by now.  The finger, slick with saliva, slips easily inside you.  The tip of her digit pulls back out before plunging back in a little farther each time.  The invading finger matches it's master's tongue in agonizing pace, grazing your preferred spot, but never lingering.  Sam's techniques should be used in interrogation.  Maybe torture.
	Without warning, you feel your manhood engulfed, and a loud moan bursts from your lips.  You nearly sit up as your instinct is to try to curl your body around Sam's head.  Her finger slides in to the base and dances on your weak spot.
	“S-Sam,” you force out between whimpering moans, “That's.  Oh no.  You n-need to slow down.”  Sam ignores you, bobbing her head in a now rapid motion as she takes you into her mouth again and again.
	“I'm, I'm serious,” you plead, “I can't-oh deeper- I can't keep this up.”  Her only reply is to prod your backdoor more deeply and you arch your back and fall back onto the bed.  You writhe and desperately try to not let go.  You grip the sheets until your fingers are white at the pressure.  You feel yourself coming to a boil and know what's coming.
	“I'm- I'm going to-” you sputter, but just as you feel the final moments, Sam pulls her lips off of you with a loud smack.  Her finger pulls out from you, leaving you feeling suddenly empty.  Your whole body seizes and you freeze, looking at her to continue.  But, like you should have known she would, Sam just grins back.
	“Not so fast small fry,” she purrs, gently cupping your twitching manhood, “I want all of you tonight.”  The arches her back in a feline pose as she sits up and then pulls her legs over yours to straddle your waste.
	“Having fun so far?” she breathes down at you, locking eyes with you as you try to calm down.  You look back up at her and put on your best mimic of her smile.  Your hands slide up her legs to settle on her waste.
	“Your turn,” you manage to say, “I want to see you too Sam.”
	Your lover actually blushes, but tries to keep her cocky attitude, “All you had to do was ask.”  She reaches for the hem of her shirt and pulls the cloth up her stomach, revealing a carefully maintained six pack that you'd always enjoyed catching glimpses of.  The shirt continued its accent, gliding over her stomach to expose her entire chest to you.  She wasn't wearing a bra and her pert, lovely bosom bounces as it is revealed.  She may not have Crystal's gifts in the area, but Sam's made up for it with perk and lovely dark nipples. Sam continued to remove the shirt, flexing her stomach in a delightful way you were sure was no accident.
	She tosses the garment aside and puts her hands on her hips, “Tadaaa!”  Sam gives you a confident smirk, but you know she's watching you for a reaction.  You give her one when you sit up and wrap your arms around her.
	Face level with her chest, you look up, “Not bad, but I think I need a closer look.”  You pull your eyes down again and lean into her chest, planting a kiss on her right breast.  You feel as much as hear Sam stifle a reaction.  Pleased with yourself, you begin a karmic revenge by trailing kisses across her chest, flirting with her most sensitive points, but never lingering.
	You stop and blow softly on her nipple, causing Sam to stiffen and mumble, “Come on Nonny, don't keep me hanging-” but she is cut off by her own yelp, followed by a long low moan as you place your lips around her weak spot.  Your lover tenses as you work, twitching each time you run your tongue over her nipple.  You circle her breast's peak, enjoying it as she mutters your name between breathes, and pull back to blow again, shocking the redhead with the sudden cold.  You then wrap your lips around her and draw her into your mouth gently.  Sam leans forward to bring you closer and weaves her arms around you to hold you tight to her.  Your own hands lift to caress her back as your mouth busies itself with her front.  You run your fingers up and down her spine, trying to mix the two different pleasures.  Sam's reflex is to arch her back away from your dancing fingers and grip you tighter to her as you switch to her other side.  As you massage and pay lip service to your lover, you can feel her body getting hotter and her voice higher.  She begins to reach a peak when her arms pull back and wedge themselves between you and her.
	Pushing you back, she breathes for a moment and gets out, “Whoa Nonny...just whoa.  Slow down there. Heh.  Ha.  Alright then.  You are- you have a thing of beauty in your mouth there darlin'.”  You smile up at her with lips flushed from their work, letting her reactions speak for you.
	Her hands go down to her left side and she quickly unzips her skirt before pausing to give you her best eyes as she pulls the skirt away from herself, dragging one end of the cloth so that the garment had to travel back around her body to be free of her.  A tease to the last.  The cloth finally lifts away and Sam is left in her baby blue panties, the cloth now transparent with her affection.  Your lover inches herself backwards until you feel your manhood leaning against her tight bottom.  Sam reaches behind her and toys with you, laying your shaft between her cheeks as you rest your hands on her hips again.  The two of you stay like that for a moment, simply feeling what is coming and perhaps both collecting yourselves for it.
	“Been waiting a while for this Nonny,” Sam eventually states as she runs her fingers up and down your member, “Never thought I'd...”  The words catch in her throat and you lift your hand to caress her cheek.
	“I know.  Sorry I was so dense,” you say, brushing a few hairs behind her ear as you cup her cheek. For a moment, she leans into the hand, but then tuns it into a quick nod.
	“Right,” is all she says and she lifts herself off of your waste.  She grips you tenderly and positions herself.  She pulls her panties aside and guides your head to caress her.  You whimper at the sudden heat, but try to lift your hips for more. Sam's free hand places itself on your chest and you take the message, lying back down.  She slides along your shaft again and again until you glisten in the low light of the room.  The redhead gives a small gasp at each passing, but finally stops and you feel yourself being placed just at her entrance.  Carefully, Sam flexes her knees and you feel your manhood being taken into her.  You feel tightness and warmth, a slow yielding as Sam lowers herself onto you.  An inch in, she stops and lifts herself again.  You are both breathing heavy from the brief contact and your lover begins again.  You want with all your body to push back, to seek more of her, but you know better.  You wouldn't hurt Sam for all the pleasure in the world and you let her take her time.  It is not an unpleasant wait.  The wiry, sensual young woman continues the pattern, going down further each time, each time entwining the two of you more.  You both gasp, writhe, and whimper as you make love for the first time.  No music plays or candle burns to accent the moment.  The only sounds you hear are your own breathing and exclamations of pleasure.  You two move awkwardly, slowing at times or shifting for better balance.  You have to bite your lip to keep from climaxing early and you feel Sam tensing and stopping at points as she has to slow down for her own comfort.  You are both new to this, but neither cares.  This awkward, halting moment was heaven for you both.
	Finally Sam takes all of you in and leans forward and over you.  Her hair hangs loose, her scrunchy having been taken off at some point, and falls in sheets around your head.  You both meet eyes and to your surprise, Sam laughs.  Short, halting laughs begin to bubble over her lips and soon you find yourself unable to keep from joining in.  You both sit there and giggle at each other, feeling your tensions finally starting to melt away.  Something hot and wet strikes your cheek, and you open your eyes.  Small tears are collecting in Sam's eyes and are starting to drip down.
	“Sam?” you ask.
	The girl's elbows buckle and she falls against your chest.  You try your best to cushion her and wrap your arms around her.  Still taller then you, she buries her face in your scalp and hiccups.
	“So damn long Nonny, you asshole,” she mumbles into your hair, “And now we... we.”
	You rub her back and do your best to comfort her, “Shhh.  I know.  I'm not going anywhere.”  You'd never considered yourself good at calming a crying woman, and this was certainly not the place you'd expected to need the skills.
	Sam mutters softly into your head, “I love you Nonny.”
	You don't even hesitate, more sure than you'd been of anything these past days, “I love you too Sam.”
	“G-good,” she says with a bit more voice, “I'd kick your ass if I wasted my first on some jerk.”  You give another small laugh and kiss her shoulder.  You make your way to the crook of her neck and do your best impression of her.  Sam is appreciative.
	The redhead rolls her back and abs and lifts her hips before bringing them down on you again.  Then she does it again and you moan at the treatment.  Her back arches enough to bring her face to yours and you both look into each other's eyes as she builds a rhythm.  For the first time, you feel safe moving with her and your hips begin to mirror her sensual thrusts.  Still, Sam is in control and your movements are all following her lead.  Your girlfriend is making love to you and you love letting her.  You lean your head back again and offer your lips to her.  She takes them with an almost guttural growl, claiming your mouth with her tongue.  Your movements pick up as you both finally find a common rhythm.  Sam reaches down and finds your hands, pulling your arms over your head and pinning them there.  She entwines her fingers with hers and lifts herself up to get a better angle to thrust down at you.  You whimper and moan underneath her, arching your back and whispering her name between breathes.  You loose yourself as your lover takes you and embrace every feeling.  Every thrust, every note of flesh against flesh, every friction against the sheets assaults your mind.  Both of you are coming to a boil and neither are stopping.  Sam is moaning as well and gasping as she comes down on you harder.  Both of your voices raise and melt together as you finally reach a climax.  Together, the two of you cling to each other and release.  You erupt into your lover as she tightens and screams your name.  The pair of you stay in that position, writhing against each other and making the moment last as long as you possibly can.  Shaking and whimpering, you hold each other, riding the waves of ecstasy as they begin to peter out.
	Slowly, ever so slowly, you collapse back to the bed, finally parting as Sam rolls off of you to catch her breath. Neither looking to move, you both lay there, trying to rest your lungs as much as any other part of you.  Eventually, Sam's arm worms underneath you and pulls you to her.  You roll onto your side and lay against her as she begins to idly play with your hair.  You lay there for a time, only exchanging body heat.
	After a bit Sam looks down to your head resting on her chest, “We really need to get you in a diaper little guy.”
	“Oh, I would say that is the least of your worries at the moment,” a voice announces from the door.  You both jerk your heads back and see Crystal standing there, her arms crossed and her temper looking to match.
	“Crissie!” Sam blurts, “This is- I can explain.”
	The blonde lets her arms drop to her sides and stomps her foot, “I cannot believe you Samantha.  You promised.  We talked about this.”
	Your new-found lover untangles herself from you and gets out of bed, “I know. I know!  It just happened!”
	“We-We talked and we both said we wanted him,” Crystal pouts and you can hear her voice beginning to thicken, “And we always said we'd share if one managed to- that we'd wait for the other.”
	Sam rushes to the door, still nude and holds out her hands, “I'm sorry! I know we promised.  I was going to wait 'till you got back, but we just got-”
	“It's my fault,” you finally find your voice, “I started it.  She tried to get me to stop.”
	The blonde turns away from Sam's arms, “You didn't know Anonymous.  She did.”  Crystal was digging her heels in.  The girl usually hated conflict, but when she did lock onto something, she rarely gave ground.
	“Look, look,” Sam says, trying to get her best friend to turn back to her to no avail, “I'll do anything, anything you want.”
	“Me too!” you announce, not sure what you are agreeing to.
	“See,” the redhead asks, “We both mean it.”
	Crystal gives you a sidelong glance, “Anything?”
	“Come onnnn,” Sam prods, “I know you have some things in the shopping bag.  Why not?  I'll give you two the whole night. Promise.”
	The blonde considers the words, but crosses her arms and gives a pout, “I will not have our first night together be an apology.  I don't want him to be with me because he is sorry.”  You crawl across the bed and onto your feet, forgetting your own nudity.  You stand in front of Crystal and take her hand.
	She lifts her eyes from your body and meet yours, “Don't then.  Lets have tonight because I want to Crystal.  I want you.  I mean that.”  The blonde keeps eye contact and her face softens.
	“You mean that?”
	“Like I said before,” you grin softly, “I trust you Crystal.  You'll take good care of me, right?”  The blonde puts her other hand to her lips and blushes profusely.
	Eventually, she nods her head, “Okay Anonymous.  I'll forgive you.”
	“He's such a charmer when he's naked,” Sam grins from over Crystal's shoulder.
	The blonde turns around and points at her friend's chest, “You.  Go get the brown bag from the shopping.”
	“Ooohoo,” Sam crows, “You're going to get it Nonny.”
	“Now.” Crystal reminds her.  Sam gives a mock salute, her chest jumping with the movement, and hurries off.
	The blonde turns to look back at you, “You're certain, right?”  To answer her, you step forward and warp your arms around her waste.  You get on your toes and give her a peck on the lips.
	“Don't you want me?” you flutter your eyelashes coyly and grin.  You'd never have thought you'd be seducing any woman quite like this, but hell, you were getting into it.  Crystal gives a sharp intake of breath and wraps her hands beneath your bum.  She lifts to into a kiss and you wrap your legs around her as she carries you to bed.  She collapses onto you, never breaking the kiss.  The two of you giggle through entwined lips at the fall.  Though not with the same speed as before, you feel your skin getting warm.  Crystal's hands begin to roam your body.  She seems to want to touch every part of you as you lay beneath her, he tongue as eager to explore as her hands.  In particular, you feel her fingers once again linger on your abs and chest.  You were never built like an athlete, but your wiry muscle and runner's physique seem to be to her liking if her hands are anything to go on.
	You two are interrupted as a brown paper bag is plopped next to the bed, “Delivery for Mrs. Kinky and her pet.”
	Crystal pulls away from you to give her friend a withering look, but can't manage it for long as her eyes are drawn to the bag.  You try to lean up to look, but she pushes you back, waving a finger in your face and smiling as her cheeks go crimson.  You take the hint and inch backwards onto the bed.  Still, you watch intently as Crystal reaches into the bag and withdraws, to your surprise, what looks like a silken scarf.  She motions for you to back up more and you eventually reach the cast iron bars of the headboard.  The blonde follows you onto the bed and crawls up to your side.  With no words, she takes your hand and ties the scarf around it.  She then takes the other end and carefully ties it to one of the bars.  Another scarf is produced and this time, you offer your other wrist.  Crystal takes it and kisses you as she attaches the scarf to your arm.  Your limb is drawn away from your body as she ties the other end to the opposite end of the headboard.  You can barely move your arms now as you lay against Sam's pillows.
	Crystal backs up and stands at the foot of the bed.  Her face red, she does her best to look alluring as she reaches for the ties of her dress on her shoulder.  One strap and then the other are released and she catches the front of the garment.  The blonde gives an adorable attempt at bedroom eyes as she lowers her hands and reveals her strapless bra.  She tries to let the dress fall, but it bunches at her waste.  She looks down and fidgets as she tries to slip it past her lovely hips.  She pushes her curvacious bottom out as she works and wiggles it as the last of the dress passes her waste, grumbling softly at her troubles.  She then straitens up and pushes her bangs behind her ears.  She gives you a self concious look over the whole affair as she stands there in her bra and panties.
	You aren't lying when you say, “You're beautiful Crystal.”  Her attempts at a sexy pose dissolve as she sheepishly covers her mouth and smiles.  She collects herself and reaches behind her back.  The clip snaps open and her bra falls off.  Crystal's breasts might not quite have matched Ms. Garde, but they were still the envy of most women.  With a delightful bounce, they fall free and her pale, pink nipples meet the cool air.  You manage to keep your jaw where it is, though your eyes have broken free of any master.
	Crystal notices you staring and brings her arms forward to push her breasts together, doing better at giving you a sultry gaze.  You give her a goofy grin and you notice your nethers beginning to wake up again.  So does Crystal, and she draws one more scarf from the bag.  She climbs up the bed to you and much to your chagrin, places the dark cloth over your eyes before tying it behind your head.
	“Be a good boy,” she whispers in your ear, “And keep this on for me okay?”
	“Yes Auntie,” you breathe back.  You hear her shudder at the words.  Blind to the world, you lay there, waiting.  Crystal starts slow.  You feel breathe spilling over your stomach and goosebumps rise.  The breathe tingles along your body, jumping from place to place as you can only lay there.  The breathe is replaced by fingers, sometimes barely dragging against your skin, other times slowly massaging your arms, or your stomach, or even your feet.  You jump at each new feeling as they come closer to, but never reach, your most sensitive spots.  Your whole body comes alight as she finds erogenous zones even you didn't know you had.  The blonde's lips linger a particularly long time just behind your ear, with you eventually moaning and writhing from just the grazing of her teeth on your earlobe.  You hear the headboard creak as you struggle against your bonds, helpless as she works.  She only giggles at this and occasionally re-tightens the scarves to your dismay.  You give out a yelp as your find your backdoor invaded.
	“Samantha!  Get off the bed,” you hear Crystal's voice.
	“Aww, come one.  Nonny loves it up there,” comes the reply.
	With a great deal more authority, the blonde commands, “Go to the corner. Sit!”
	“But-”
	“Corner!  And don't you dare touch yourself.  This is punishment.”  To your surprise, you hear someone stomp to the corner and Crystal returns to her work.  You feel it as her whole body aligns with yours on the bed and her breathe begins to flow over your ear.  Fingers begin to circle the base of your shaft, nails grazing the length.  Your manhood is completely recovered and very receptive of the treatment.
	“Well Anonymous,” she whispers, eliciting a moan as she teases your ear again, “It looks like you're a bit stuck.”  You only nod.
	“Why,” she continues, “I could do anything to you right now, and you couldn't stop me could you?  How did you get into this mess?”  She nips at your ear and you whimper.  You shake your head to show you didn't know.
	“I'm beginning to think you wanted this to happen,” her voice is thick with arousal as she drips each word into your ear, “Is that true?  Do you like being in your Auntie Crystal's hands?”  You shudder at the accusation.
	“Y-yes,” you mumble.
	“Why?” the word slithers past your sensitive earlobe.  You consider the answer, knowing it would mean something to her. You want to blurt something like enjoying her being in charge or being her pet.  But that wasn't it.  Not for you and not for her.
	“Because I trust her,” you say carefully, “And she'll take good care of me, won't she?”  There is a pause as you hear your partner give a soft sigh.
	“Yes she will,” is the eventual reply, “As much as her Anonymous needs her.”  Her hand tenderly begins to work your shaft and you twitch at the change of pace.
	As she caresses you, Crystal begins to speak again, “Okay Anonymous, I'm going to try something.  You can say no, but please consider it.  Okay?”
	“I'm in your hands,” you chuckle and you hear her give a soft giggle at the phrase.  The blonde withdraws from you and you feel her leave the bed.  The paper bag crinkles in the background and you hear Sam whistle.
	“Oh, nice,” she comments.
	“Quiet you,” comes the reply.  You hear the sliding of cloth against skin and Crystal taking a deep breath.  The you hear her whimper and gasp a few times.  You wonder what she could be doing as you lay there, unable to find out.  There is a plastic click followed by another and then her weight returns to the bed.  You feel her crawl on top of you and then fingers grab and lift your blindfold.  Your eyes adjust to the meager light of the room as Crystal quickly draws back to stand at the foot of the bed.  Your vision clears and you see  her standing there in front of you, arms folded behind her as she awkwardly smiles at you.  Crystal's panties are now gone and while you might usually be celebrating, it is their replacement that grabs your attention.  Long, thin, and a pale lilac, a plastic phallus juts from between your lover's legs to stand proudly in front of the both of you.  The toy extends backwards as well and you can see it disappear inside of her.  Two cloth straps with plastic buckles wrap around her waste and hips to keep the pseudo-member in place.  Your partner looks at you bashfully from beneath her bangs.
	“Well?”
	You can only stare for the first moment. Not horrified, but certainly surprised.
	The blonde rubs her right arm with her left behind her back and begins to stutter, “It's just, I always thought it would be romantic you know?  It was my favorite part from the books and it always just seemed so sexy for both parties to be experiencing pleasure, but, you know, differently and special for them, and like an exchange of rolls and transfer of power but in a loving way and, and, and...”
	She continues to sputter on until she sighs and mumbles, “Too soon?  I went for this too soon didn't I?”
	You look at your lover, standing there as naked as you'd ever seen her regardless of clothes.  You wanted her to feel as safe as she said she wanted for you.  You wanted to be with her this night, regardless of method.  Odd as it was, that was still the same Crystal standing there, looking at you to tell her if she was a freak.  You'd be damned if you were going to do that, that was for sure.  And maybe, a very small part of you wondered if, you know, you could handle it.
	But it was mostly love that made you say, “If we do this, we're going to need to go slow.  Okay?”  The blonde's head snaps up again and her face lights up like you'd told her she got an extra birthday.
	She actually bounces and gives a small clap, the toy bouncing with her.  She notices this too as she bends over a bit at the feeling of the toy inside her.  She catches her breathe and crawls back onto the bed with you.  Quickly the scarves attached to the bed are undone and you take a moment to flex your shoulders.  Crystal cutely pokes you in the chest to get your attention and makes a rolling motion with the same finger.  You take the hint and roll onto your stomach.  The blonde grabs a number of pillows and places them under your stomach, chest, and head.  Extra go under your waste, lifting your bottom slightly into the air.  You feel your arms being pulled back behind you as your partner grabs the scarves and uses them to tie your wrists together behind your back.  You now lay in front of your be-dildoed lover, trussed up and unable to go anywhere.
	“Have I ever told you just how adorable your bottom is Anonymous?” you hear from behind you.  A hand grazes your cheeks and you jump at the feeling, clenching on instinct.
	Crystal giggles, “Shhh, shhh it's fine.  I'm going to go slow.  And before I can do anything, you need to relax.”  You don't know what that quite means until a cool liquid drips onto your back.
	You twitch at the feeling as more is pored on, “It's okay darling, it's massage oil.  It'll warm up, I promise.”  Strong, tender hands reach your back and begin to massage the flesh.  Another one of Crystal's classes pays off as she carefully finds every tension in your back and begins to remove them.  She works along your back and up your shoulders, eliciting a new kind of moan from you as she works.
	“There,” she says as she works, “You always carry so much tension Anonymous. You need to learn to let it go.  Maybe you could meditate with me some time.”
	“Would it include this part?” you mumble into your pillow.
	“It could,” came the teasing reply, “If you ask nicely.” Her hands begin to work on your cheeks and she pays special attention, taking her time to get you used to her hands being there.  The lotion warms on your skin, releasing heat as she rubs it in.  You don't jump nearly as badly when her finger begins to probe your rectum.  She gives a soft laugh at this, but continues.  Crystal is careful to go slowly however, only prodding at first, and then very carefully inching her finger in.  Your manhood twitches beneath you and you give a soft, approving moan.
	“Does my little sweetie like this?” your partner comments as she works, “Does he enjoy having his cute rump played with by his Auntie?”  You find yourself nodding at her words.
	“Then would he maybe like another finger then?  I can do that for him.”  You hesitate, but the first finger finally goes in deep enough to probe your weak point.  You gasp and then nod again.
	“Such a naughty boy,” Crystal comments as a second finger begins to prod at the edges of your backdoor, “Asking for more up his adorable little bottom.  If he really likes this, would he want more?”  You can only pant as the second finger begins to go as deep as the first.
	“If he did want more, he could have all he wants,” your lover draws the words out as she fingers you, “I think I have just the thing for him actually.” You finally feel the dildo as it rests on your bottom, nestling between your cheeks.
	“All he would have to do if he wanted to really feel something special,” Crystal emphasizes her words as she slowly slides the phallus up and down your crack, “Is ask for it nicely.  And Auntie would really give him a treat.”  Weight settles against you as Crystal lays her body on top of yours.  You feel her breasts rest on your back, her stiff nipples poking you from behind.
	“Well?” she breathes against that same ear.
	You shudder and whimper.  Your rosebud twitches at the offer and your face is red realizing you want it and what you have to do to get it.
	Collecting your last strength, you force the words, “Auntie Crystal, you can, ah, please, please take me.”
	The blonde shudders at the words, but doesn't relent, “Where would you like me to do that sweetie?  You have to be more specific.”
	Your manhood twitches as you say, “My... My ass.  Please give me my treat there.”
	You wonder if Crystal hadn't reached her limit then and there as she trembles on top of you for a moment.  However, she then hugs you tightly and gives a small squeal before popping back up onto her knees.  She has you completely spread your legs and nestles herself between them.
	“Well,” she announces as you hear more of the lotion squeezed out, “Such language.  I didn't know my Anonymous could have such a filthy mouth.”
	The plastic manhood returns to your crack, much more slick than before, “But since he was so sweet when he asked for his treat, I'm inclined to forgive him.”  The toy slides down between your cheeks but does not go up this time. You feel the molded head of the phallus rest against your rosebud.
	In a softer voice, you here her add, “Deep breath darling.”  You do as you are told and do your best to relax.  You feel pressure against your back door.  The feeling builds and you are certain that you had overestimated yourself.  There was no way this thing would fit.  But then there is a release and the head is in.  A long, low note rumbles from your throat as you are penetrated.  You aren't sure it could count as your first time, but you felt a certain virginity disappearing.  You found you didn't mind as long as it was Crystal.  The toy stops moving.
	“Are you okay Anonymous?” you hear Crystal's genuine concern in your ear.
	“I'm-I'm alright.  I think,” you reply.
	“Are you ready to keep going?” she asks after another moment.
	You take another deep breathe, “Yes.”  The toy begins to go deeper.  With the penetration passed, the rest is a great deal easier, but not easy by any stretch.  The blonde is careful to go slow and to pull out a number of times to give you time to adjust, but you still have to ask her to stop on an occasion or two.  She is quick to do so and begins to massage your back as you catch your breathe.  A constant stream of encouragement is whispered to you as she goes deeper and deeper.  The discomfort begins to decline even as she goes deeper, and your member starts to harden again.  You notice Crystal's own breathe picking up and remember that the toy is in both of you.  As her massage reaches your shoulder, you grasp her hand and give it a loving squeeze.  You feel her own body relax a bit at the caress. Finally, after an eternity, you feel her skin against yours as she bottoms out.  Slowly, she withdraws and then enters you again.  Then her hands pull back from your back and settle on your waste to get a better grip.  She continues the slow rhythm of withdrawal and thrust and genuine pleasure begins to run through you.  Your member is now at full attention and as, Crystal pulls you onto your knees, it begins to swing between your legs with her movements.  As you begin to push back, she quickens her pace.  You cease to whimper at all and instead give a full throated moan as your partner makes love to you.  The sound of flesh on flesh is heard as she bottoms again and again inside you.  Crystal's voice matches yours as she begins to loose herself in the experience of taking you.
	“Oh sweetie,” she manages to mutter between moans, “Oh darling, this is just- I just. Oh damn you are amazing!”  Now there was another first. Crystal cursed.
	You however, were not able to be as subtle, “F-ff-ffuck!  That's it.  Don't-don't-just keep going!”
	“Gladly dar-hmmf!,” You here your partner cut off and glance over your shoulder to see her lip locked with Sam.  The redhead was now behind her, reaching around to grope her chest with one hand and the other reaching down to the toy with the other.  The still-naked punk breaks the kiss and gives a shit eating grin.
	“You!” Crystal tries to sound scornful, but is interrupted by a moan as Sam's fingers find her button again.
	“Sorry Cryssie,” Sam replies, “Nonny wasn't the only one I've been waiting on.  No time like the present!”
	She pinches Crystal's nipples and the blonde gasps, “You-you were supposed to not move from-”
	“From the corner, I know,” the redhead finishes for her as her hips match her partners in rhythm with penetrating you, “But I couldn't pass this up.  And seriously, are you saying you've never thought about it?  I remember a few cold nights that would say otherwise.”
	Your partner is under attack from three points and barely able to speak, 'W-well maybe.  B-but you're still being punished.  And-and Anonymous is still mine right now.”
	“Deal,” Sam grins to make the Cheshire cat jealous, “He's all yours.
	Crystal breathes and reaches forward.  She grabs your wrists and pulls back.  You are lifted and are soon on your knees with Crystal behind you, thrusting into you as she reaches around to pull you against her.  The new angle puts the toy right against your weak spot and you feel it as your manhood begins to reach its limit.  Then your lover's hand travels down and grabs hold of your member.  Slick with massage oils, Crystal's soft hand glides up and down your length.
	“Come on sweetie,” she moans into your ear, “Almost there.  Be a good boy and come.”  You move your hips against her hand as much as her phallus and feel yourself getting close.
	Another hand reaches up and pinches you nipple, “Anonymous if you do not cum when told, I will be very cross with you.  Now f-finish.  Do it now!”  You nearly roar as your member erupts across the sheets.  You feel it too as Crystal's whole body stiffens and trembles, her own voice reaching a high pitch and singing out your name.  Your back door spasms and grips Crystal as hard as it can, dragging out your release even longer.  The two of you hold each other as you both see white and collapse forward.  Regardless of restraints, you aren't moving soon.  Crystal lays on top of you, still inside of you as you twitch against each other.  Crystal's breath flows over your shoulder as she desperately tries to rest.  Between gasps for air, she can only mumble out random words of praise and thanks.  You slowly tilt your head to look over your shoulder.  She looks back at you.
	“Thank you,”  she finally says, “Thank you for-for letting me just- be, um.”
	“I love you too Crystal,” is your only reply.  She buries her face in your shoulder.  The toy slips from your bottom and you finally relax completely.
	“Whelp!” announces Sam, “My work here is done.  Imma grab a shower and camp on the sofa.  Join me later Nonny.”
	Crystal rolls off of you and glares at her best friend, “What you will do is shower and report to my room to watch Anonymous while I shower.  Is that understood?”  Sam actually hesitated at that before shrugging and nodding.  On shaky legs, but solid pride Crystal gets to her feet and picks you up with no warning.  She hugs you to her and walks right out of the room calling over her shoulder that Sam had better put the sheets in the wash before she showers.  Being in no shape to walk, you cling to your lover and happily let her carry you.  The two of you go directly to her room and right past the bed.  	She sets you down on the changing table, “Right.  Lets get you diapered my darling.”  Ah, well.  All good fun and all that.  You are way too tired to even think about objecting as she pulls a set of wipes out and begins the job of cleaning you all over again.  She takes her time and you both enjoy the post-coital contact as she gives you the wet wipe equivalent of a sponge bath.  You find yourself grinning like a fool thinking about everything that had just transpired.  Not a bad night.  Crystal finally finishes and goes to get a diaper.
	Without thinking, and as a joke, you add, “Make it a special one.”  Man. Sex was a hell of a drug.  Crystal seems to light up with genuine affection and immediately brings out a thick, purple beast of a diaper.  On the front is written 'Mommy's Favorite' surrounded by cartoon animals of a popular kid's show.  Well, fuck you too mouth.  Whatever.  You pop your butt into the air and let the cushion be placed underneath you.  Crystal coos at you as she applies lotion and you both have a brief laugh when she warns you to take a deep breath.  A lovely smelling cloud of baby powder paints your privates white and she reaches to close the diaper. Then the blonde pauses and grabs another pad.  To your dismay, even more thickness is added before she seals the diaper closed.
	“All done Anonymous,” she announces as she picks you up one more time and sets you on the bed.  The diaper gives a crinkling noise as you rest your weight on it.  The thing is so large, you have trouble sitting up at first as gravity wants desperately to have a laugh and roll you backwards.  How are you going to walk in this?
	“Cool, me too,” Sam announces as she walks in, drying the last of her hair.  She's now wearing a t-shirt and boy-shorts.
	“Not quite,” Crystal corrects her, opening a drawer on the table, “Drop your sorts.”
	Sam snorts at the order, “I admire your recovery time babe, but I need sleep.  I'm only one, admittedly awesome, gal.” Her friend only keeps her level look and then points to the table.
	“What?” Sam blurts, “No way!  That's not my game Cryssie.”
	Crystal only crosses her arms, “I told you there would be a punishment, and frankly you've teased Anonymous enough to warrant it anyway.  If you want me to forgive you, Get. On. The. Table.”  Sam looks to you, but you just shrug and then correct yourself to not fall back again. The blonde taps her foot.
	“Ugh, fine,” the redhead relents, “But only for tonight.”  She walks over and drops her shorts.  You admire the view as she pops onto the table and lays down.  Crystal begins to clean her.
	“This is bullsh-Ahh!” Sam's complaint is interrupted when her best friend swats her on the bottom.
	“Language,” she says calmly.
	“Like fucking hell-AHH!” the debate repeats itself.  This continues until Sam's lovely rear is a bright red and tears are in the corner of her eyes.  Never let it be said Sam knows when to back down, or that Crystal doesn't know how to handle her after so many years.  Crystal pulls from the drawer a small bit of plastic with a strap.  She places the pacifier at Sam's lips and the redhead refuses to open them.  Another spanking and the nuk is slipped in when her mouth is open.  Quickly, Crystal wraps the strap around Sam's head and buckles it in place to form a childish gag.  The punk glares at her, but makes no more move to argue.  She couldn't if she wanted to.
	She relaxes a bit when soothing lotion is put on her red cheeks and powder over that.  A pink, flowery diaper with the words 'Little Angel in Training” is wrapped around her waste and taped shut.  Then a length of cloth with a buckle is taken from the same drawer as the pacifier and locked around the diaper with a bloody key.
	Crystal shows Sam the key as she puts it on a cord around her wrist, “Now that stays on till morning at least, understand?”
	The blonde doesn't wait for an answer and picks her up as easily as she had you and deposits her on the bed next to you, “I'm going to go take a shower.  You two play nice.  And Sam, if that diaper isn't on when I get back or you spit out your paci, it's two more days in nappies.”  Crystal then walks, still nude as the day she was born, to the bathroom.  You look at Sam who is fuming with her arms crossed.
	You can't help it, “Well, she did warn you, you know.”  The gagged punk just flips you off.
	You give her a shit eating grin, “You know, I don't think Auntie Crystal would like it if I told her you were saying dirty words in sign language.”  Sam's eyes go wide and she gives you a pleading look.  You just smile and finally let gravity topple you as you fall back onto the comforter.  Thinking you'd won, you didn't see it coming when Sam pounces on you and begins to tickle you mercilessly.  You burst out laughing and attempt to return the favor.  The two of you wrestle as awkwardly as diapers will allow until you lay there out of breath.
	Crystal comes back in and gives you both a soft smile, “I think you two are ready for bed.”  She climbs into bed and once again the two girls sandwich you.  Nestled in there arms, you are just about to go to sleep when your bladder kicks in, demanding a trip to the bathroom.  You listen to the soft breathing of both girls as the cling to you.  Then you feel the warmth spread between your legs.  You can deal with it tomorrow.  Right now, you're fine right where you are.