Time For Mommy’s Milk Again.

Incontinent

You are recently were prescribed Incontinence to address your hyper-chronic masturbation and rampant pornography addiction that was seriously affecting your life and livelihood. Your doctor and therapist signed off on it and once you arrived at the clinic and you signed in they would take your information and and brought to your room where you were undressed and dawned a hospital gown before they came to bring you in you did one last fap and made account going in and out until you felt it go . They would arrive and put you on the gurney bring you in and soon put you under . Not long later you would wake in your bed with a weird feeling your crotch it was a tick medical diaper soggy and moist and it surrounded your crotch .  as you lay there thinking about your decision up to this point and your problem you would feel yourself go filling it even more and you couldn’t stop yourself . Soon the nurses would arrive and told you the operation was a total success, and you were incontinent and happily they helped you change your diaper powdering your bottom and applying a new diaper they would tell you that we’re going to keep you overnight to watch you and tomorrow you would be going home . You would lay there Thinkingagain, only to be interrupted by a new spur out urine and then stool and then you fed. This is what your life became. Now home your life would change now having to wear thick diapers and carry around a diaper bag as you couldn’t control yourself now. At first not letting incontinence stop you you would attempt to masturbate taking it off and doing it but before you could go all the way, you would end up ruining your bedsheets with urine doing a number on it . After that, you slowly stopped attempting to do it since diapers weren’t your thing you would ultimately stop doing it with that now you you had to get on with your life being an Incontinent woman all because you couldn’t control your dirty habits .

“It’s okay honey… I know that you’re trying to tell me that your diaper is now soaked, but can’t find the words because you’re embarrassed. First of all, you don’t need to worry about telling me because I can always tell when you’ve wet yourself. Your body stiffens up and you freeze with a desperate look on your face followed by a brief look of relief. Secondly, your diaper swells up to at least twice it’s thickness and it shows through your pants. You know what? I don’t mind in the least little bit. Nobody is perfect. If the only thing about you that is flawed are your weak bladder muscles, then so be it… I still love you. It’s about the hottest thing in the world to me watching you squirm to hold it and then not be able to as you helplessly wet yourself. I don’t know what it is, but it’s super attractive when a guy is vulnerable. I would not change one thing about you, well… I’ll change your diaper LoL, but I won’t change anything else”

Easter is a time for celebration. For young 20-something Hester that meant going out with her friends for a wild night of reckless carefree partying since no one would have work or college to get up for in the morning.

The play bunny outfit had seemed like a brullent idea. Bunny ears at Easter time, it was sure to get a laugh, although the outfit was harder to finalise than she had anticipated. It came down to a question of commitment. At first she had been willing to wear bunny wears and dress. Then she swaped out for a shorter more hugging dress but it still wasn’t the right ‘look’. She just looked like a girl wearing bunny ears. What was it that made the playboy girls so eye catching? They were lingerie models. It was the most daring and exposing thing she had ever done in public but she steeling herself with the knowledge it was a ‘costume’, after all Wondermen essentially thought crime in a leotard. After getting her first 'up and down’ look from a grinning taxi man arrived to deliver her to the venue, she felt empowered by her bold choice and text her friends to let them know they’d soon get to see the outfit she’d been working on secretively.

Needless to say the next day was effectively written off with a horrendous hang over. She tried to sleep through most of it but while she lay in bed she frequently checked her social media feed which was ablaze with pictures and comments from the night.

The next day she had drive round to her Mom’s, it was a family tradition to get together and have a roast.

“Hi Mom. Hey am I early? We’re is uncle Stevie and his kids?“ she asked. Uncle Stevie lived just down the road and Mom was always babysitting his kids so it was surpprising they weren’t already here painting eggs.

Hester’s mother looked up from the breakfast counter with a troubled expression.

“No one is coming this year. I cancelled. Its just gonna be us this year.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. How come? ” Hester anxiously rubbed her arm. She could sense a subtle hostility, her mother was annoyed at something.

“Hester we need to have a talk. Let’s go sit in the living room. I’ll make some tea.”

Hester’s mind was reeling as she sat at one end of the sofa. She could hear the kettle froth and the tinkle of her mother stirring tea cups. She dreading hearing some bad family news but she thought it was stranger that her Mom hadn’t called her straight away.

It wasn’t too long before her mother returned with a tray and sat down beside her.

“Is everything okay Mom?“

"Not really hun.” her mother paused, exhaled and drowned. “Hester were you at a party on Friday night?“

"Yeah, all my friends went. Why?“

Her mother had taken her phone out and was peering down the end of her nose through her glasses as she scrolled and found what she was looking for. She passed the phone to Hester. It was the online version of the local paper. There was photo of Hester from the party. She hadn’t been named but she knew local people would recognise her. Hester felt her a lump rise in her throat as she read the defamatory comments in the article about how today’s youth were 'bad eggs’. The pun was bad but the rest of the visceral language effectively labeled her as a slut. It was really upsetting, all she had wanted was to have some fun, she hadn’t even gone home with a guy that night.

"Mom, I can explain.”

“No. Just drink your tea sweetie. I want to say something first.”

Hester’s mother rubbed her back but the lecture she rattled off was hard to stomach and Hester found herself in tears.

“Mum I’m sorry I disappointed you but its not like that…” she sobbed but her mother wouldn’t listen, she continued to berate her.

“… I love you and I know you’re a good girl at heart. Which is why i’ve decided you need a second chance. We both need a second chance. I’m going to be a good mother a re-raise you from the start.”

“Mom what does that mean?“ Hester asked but she noticed her words were slurred and she felt sluggish. "Mom, I don’t feel good.”

“Shhh sweetie. Just close your eyes. Why don’t you take a nap?“

By the time heavy eyelids opened again her mother had already carried her up to the spare room, now an adult sized nursery.

Hester didn’t need to repeat her earlier question about what her mother had meant. It was now obvious. As she flex her exhausted legs she heard a crinkle from the thick disposable diaper she’d been put in. She tried to protest but the blub of a huge pacifier sealed the words in her mouth. She couldn’t seem to think straight and simply spit it out.

Her mother smiled pitifully at the confused expression on her daughters face.

"I know this is confusing for you. How about we get you out of these adult clothes and into some of your cute new baby clothes. That’ll help you adjust to your new age sweetheart.”

A year of drugged regression passed.

To the outside world it seemed like Hester had had some kind of mental break down. There had even been a follow up in the local paper after she spotted at the supermarket being wheeled on a pushchair by her mother. Her close family knew the truth of course and so sometimes she received small kindness in acknowledgement that she was still an adult. Uncle Stevie for example would usher his kids and himself out of the room if Hester’s Mother decided to change her on the floor rather than up in the nursery. Her aunties however would usually just keep gossiping and talking over her even as she lay naked in front of them, limply kicking her legs.

Hester’s adult mind came in and out of what she thought of the 'fog’ the chemical concoction which made it hard to think straight and rendered her effectively incontinent.

Around Easter time, Uncle Stevie had come around with a present for her, a larges stuffed bunny to mark the season since she didn’t have the dexterity to sit patiently and paint eggs with her 'older’ cousins.

The easter period had stirred something of a rebellion in baby Hester. Over the course of the year she had gradually seemed to become more accepting and happy in her role as an adult baby, even when her adult thoughts surfaced, she deluded herself that she should continue to be a good girl and act like a baby for her Mommy. However with Easter came a clearer memory of what her Mother had done to her and a stronger sense of what she had lost.

Her mother had noticed her daughter sulked more, laughed less and refused her babas. She devised a solution.

On Easter Sunday Hester woke feeling particularly clear headed. She recalled that for whatever reason her mother had forgotten to feed her with her usual nightime bottle.

Her mother appeared shortly, lowering the crib bars and popping a couple of the snaps at the crotch of her onsie to feel the wetness of her soaked night time diaper.

“You look bright eyed today Baby…” she got to work setting out changing supplies. “Can you understand what Mommy is saying?”

Hester nodded behind the pacifier she rhythmically sucked on, whilst her mother wiped clean her mound and bare bottom with a cool wet wipe.

“Good… Do you remember what we talked about at Easter last year?“

Resentment burned behind Hester’s brown eyes. She remembered, that like now, it had been a onsided conversation. She nodded cautiously.

"Good.” her mother looked wistful maybe even reproachful but busied herself folding Hester’s clean nappy over her midrift and smoothing the strong adhesive tabs against her abdomin.

“You’ve been a good little girl. Mommy’s thinking maybe you are ready to be a good big girl again?”

Hester nodded vigeriously and moaned wordlessly behind her pacifier. Her mother smiled.

“First a little game to check that your not too far gone as my little baby girl to come back to being an adult again.”

Hester gulped.

The game was simple. All she had to do was find all the Easter eggs her mother had hidden in the room. Her mother even helped her out by reaching down any eggs from places Hester pointed at buy couldn’t reach because she wasn’t able to stand for very long without assistance.

“Hewy!“ Hester lisped as her mother cheekily ate one of her eggs in front of her.

"Don’t worry baby. It still counts as one you found. I think that must be all of them now. Why don’t you count them up for me?“

Hester’s mother changed the adult babys top, which had been drooled down the front, and left her to count eggs while she took the laundry basket down to the washing machine.

Hester frowned in concentration

'One. Two. Um?’

Her mind was clearer than it had been year but she was struggling to recount her numbers. Then she had a brillent idea. If she ate some of the eggs, there would be less to count.

When Hester’s mother returned after making a descreet trip to the bathroom. She found Hester has eaten only three of the laxative chocolate eggs but she seem could smeel the lumpy mess the adult baby had excreted into her diaper. The poor girl was in tears.

"Aww. I’m sorry little one, it looks like I was wrong about you being ready to be an adult again. Oh well, we can try again next year.”

Easter is a time of celebration. For two-year-olds like Hester that means being dressed in an adorable Easter dress and being fussed over by all the realitives at the Sunday roast.

————————————————-

I hope you all enjoyed my caption and have a great Easter break!

Please reblog.

I’ll try to do more of these long muti-picture captions but they are likely to appear around holidays or on patreon because they much longer than usual to plan, gather images and to write.

“It’s ok if you want to wear one. I was the same way. I’ll tell you a secret. Before I started wearing diapers again, I really wanted to, but I didn’t know how to ask. It would be so embarrassing to ask my Mom if she could put me back in diapers again. So I came up with a plan.”

“I started wetting myself on purpose. Pretty soon my Mom got tired of cleaning my sheets every night or mopping up the puddles I’d leave all over the house. She put me back in diapers. I acted like I hated it, but secretly I loved it. And now I wear them 24/7 and I’m basically incontinent again.”

“If you want to wear them, you should just let go. Pee your pants. It’s ok. My Mom won’t get mad. What she will do is put you in one of my diapers. They’re so cozy and secure. You’ll love them. Just let go and pee your pants and you can wear diapers too.”

a testimonial (or warning) for numbing gel 💕

ordered some lidocaine 5% and it finally came in the mail!!! bless online shopping. got sooo inspired by the numbing gel story, i just had to try it for myself

I was already edging getting myself so dumb and drippy when I used the gel, liike, probably 5-7 edges. i still have a problem with getting too close, and at this point I swear someone could just blow on my clit and that wouldve sent me over the edge

I applied a big, dime sized amount of gel on my finger and slowly circled my clit, my inner and outer labia, my opening, basically everywhere but inside my vagina. the first 20 seconds or so it got soooo hot and stingy, I would have came right then and there if I didn’t bite down my tongue to resist!!! it wasnt that bad though, and that feeling subsided as quickly as it came and it started to feel kind of cool, like going to the dentist and they numb your gums. i kept edging and circling my clit at this time using the gel as lube kind of, until I couldn’t take it anymore and gave myself a 5 minute break

15 min after the application I felt absolutely nothing. like my whole cunt wasn’t mine anymore. lifeless, nerveless flesh. i was edging so hard, tensing and grinding my hips into my fingers trying to get any sort of relief, but no relief came. it took away my orgasm.

at this point I started fucking my self with my dildo. I was going crazy, my pussy absolutely dripping with need. I fucked myself like it was my job, nothing on my mind but my need to cum. completely losing my sense of ego and self, my mind so far gone and broken that I was reduced to a dumb bitch in heat, running only on instincts. my mind just... broke. my pussy was so sloppy and wet, ready to take anything in it. if the mailman came by I would have tried to fuck him right there, I was so so so gone and stupid and desperate I would have fucked anything with a pulse.

after 30 futile minutes of trying to cum from penetration only, I gave up, defeated. I was a sweaty mess. it really solidified in me that i only exist for mens pleasure. i don’t deserve to cum. My orgasm serves no purpose, other than to entertain if men wanted me to.

I was so deep in subspace, I had to bask in my neediness and lie there for a few more minutes before I could climb out of that mental state and into reality. my labia was slowly gaining sensation now, but my clit was still a piece of numb flesh. I got on with my evening, cooking dinner and going for a run. It’s weird, it’s like I KNOW I need cum, everything about me was physically exuding sex. Face flush, eyes dialated, cunt so swollen and dripping through my panties, almost through my pants. But there was no feeling down there, and I knew that rubbing my cunt with my fingers or on my chair would be futile (but I know you would have loved to see me try)

but then my run. my fucking run. I started regaining sensation in my clit 3 miles into my route, and it was excruciatingly delicious, feeling my thighs and my shorts graze my clit with every step. I thought I was going to cum right then, at this popular running route in front of everybody. but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. Because good girls don’t cum, and I am a good girl. As I was running I dropped harder into subspace than I ever have before. Panting, drooling, running with static and mantras in my head.

I finally got home and edged my brains out for god knows how long. it just felt so good to give into my pussy and my training, to turn off my mind and float. I always read these kinds of stories, thinking that it wasn’t true. Just a fantasy. It was after this experiment that I saw the truth now, which is I am verifiably an addicted, stupid edgeslut. A fucktoy. A cumdump. I can’t deny it any longer. I wasn’t smarter or better than any other girls. I succumbed to my training just like they did, all in a matter of a few weeks. im like soooo excited to see where my training will take me in a few more weeks, months, and even years!

YMMV, but I will warn you that using numbing gel for your training may rewirr your brain just like it did to me. That’s okay, though. It feels good. I’m a good girl now. And good girls make more good girls.

Janette was being punished for being rude to her stepmother and throwing a tantrum. She had been forced into a short pink dress and diapers with pink plastic pants over them. Worst of all her stepmother wouldn’t let her use the bathroom and made Janette hold it in when she had to go potty. It was becoming ridiculous as she hadn’t been to the bathroom all day and Janette was becoming desperate when her stepmother announced they were going on a trip. Janette was made to sit in a child’s car seat in the back of the car and they were off on their trip. When Janette asked where they were going she was shocked to hear they were visiting her real mom. Her mom lived four hours away, there was no way she could hold on that long. She was right as half way through the journey Janette found herself crying as she finally had to let go and pee herself in the back of the car. It was so wet and warm and disgusted Janette. She was no better than a real baby now with a wet diaper on. But her pain wasn’t over yet as she didn’t just need to pee. “I’ve wet myself like you wanted, now can we please stop at a bathroom somewhere so I can get this diaper off. I need to go number two as well,” Janette said to her stepmother as they drove down the highway. “Silly girl,” her stepmother replied, shaking her head. “You aren’t getting changed until we get to your old mommy’s house and as for your poopy, you’re wearing a diaper aren’t you?” The answer terrified Janette who was left crying in her wet diaper. An hour later with another hour to go Janette couldn’t hold on any longer and proceeded to poop in her diaper. It all happened very quickly, one moment she was holding on and then she felt a hot mess slide out of her butt. It was very squishy and stank up the car really quickly. All Janette could do was cry more as her stepmother said, “Well who’s a stinky girl? Don’t worry baby, I’ll get your old mommy to help me change your dirty bottom when we get to her house.”

Advanced Dungeons & Diapers: Chapter 1

This is the start of a sequel to one of my longest commissions, "Dungeons & Diapers". It's written to work effectively as a standalone novel, but follows directly on the plot of the original work, which you can read here.

Also it's set in the Pathfinder 1e universe, not any DnD plane. Nyeh. You can't tell me what to do. ...

The smell of the Wizard’s destruction carried on the wind far past the edge of Verity, the eastern capital, long before the damage could be seen.

Sandra knew they were walking into trouble and danger of their greatest enemy’s doing. Her whole party knew it. The Wizard had caused them untold humiliations as an afterthought, and prolonged exposure to his magic had taught them the telltale signs. With one sniff of the air, they knew it was him.

The distinctive, sharp smell of baby powder left little room for misidentification.

Turning back in the saddle to look at her party, Sandra swished her tail, trying not to show any uncertainty. “If anyone wants to turn back, I understand. There’s no reason to throw ourselves into danger without cause.”

Quinn didn’t need to answer. The brawny half orc feared little, and even when he had trepidation, he kept it hidden for the others. His protective instinct didn’t break here, and he shook his head.

Tarja trembled on the horse next to Quinn, but not out of fear–rather, the curse that had degraded her fine motor control left her constantly shaking unless she could lie down, get on all fours, or briefly dispel the effects. Mounted on a saddle, she had to cling to the horn and let Quinn lead. She hardly looked like the most lethal Ranger Sandra had ever met, but when she was free of the curse, she could track, hunt, and aim a bow with legendary precision.

Even cursed as she was, she’d never back down from danger. Taking the effort to enunciate clearly, she said, “I’m no’ running.” Her words carried a slight lisp, like a toddler still struggling to make the letters come out right–another side effect of her curse.

Finally, Hadrian. The party’s own wizard, and their most thorough source of information on the Wizard’s magic. Clad in a latex bodysuit that bulged around his hips, and with a pacifier lodged between his lips that he couldn’t remove, he had the most visible curses of them all.

His gaze was on the horizon, hard and furious. He didn’t need to speak to communicate, not when his feelings were this clear.

They were going to Verity, no matter what had happened there, no matter the danger.

Sandra shifted in her seat again, noting a slight squelch beneath her pants. Her diaper was full–and now that she’d noticed, she picked up a slight foul stench mingling with the baby powder odor. The diaper would self clean before they got to the city, so it didn’t concern her much.

Still, it was a reminder of the Wizard’s lightest, least invasive curses–he’d stolen her potty training more than a year prior, and it had stayed stolen. If he led an assault against a city, she shuddered to think what he could have done to the populace.

It wasn’t long before they crested a rise and, finally, came into view of the city. Verity’s walls stood proud and unbreached, and most of the homes, businesses, and buildings seemed to be intact.

From one point, though, billowing clouds of white wafted up. Plumes of baby powder, shooting from a space where the great Temple of Calistria had once stood. Now, the structure seemed to be made of geometric pastels, twisted as a thousand child-safe squares of foam flooring had been frozen in the middle of an explosion.

Pulling up his mount next to Sandra, Hadrian gestured at his pacifier urgently. Reaching to the side, she pulled it free.

“Serendipity,” he said, “She’s–”

“In the temple,” Sandra finished. “I know.”

He didn’t wait for further words or confirmation, but spurred his horse onwards, galloping as fast as the mount would take him.

Sandra couldn’t blame him, even if she doubted there was much they could do. Hadrian had fallen head-over-high-heels with a priestess performer of the temple. He wouldn’t slow for anything while he knew she could be in danger.

The others followed soon after, matching Hadrian’s speed so they didn’t lose him on the road to Verity’s gates. As they grew closer, Sandra got a better look at the damage–she could make out distinct shapes, but the scale was all off. One side of a baby crib, bars painted pastel blue, seemed to be twenty feet long or more and hovered above the debris. An enormous mobile, so large that the plush toys dangling from it were to-scale with the animals those plushies resembled, spun slowly.

Contrasting with the openly juvenile elements, she also saw a large plug, tapered at the base, large enough that it could only be practically used by an elder dragon with a very particular set of kinks.

If Sandra had any doubts, that confirmed it. Only the Wizard of Paraphilia would mix infantile and erotic objects with such a tasteless disregard for dignity.

Hadrian was babbling at the gate–literally, his pacifier had returned in the fifteen minutes it’d taken to ride there–and Sandra had to pull up next to him and address the guards. “We’re working for the guild,” she said, leaning over to free her friend’s lips again. After removing the pacifier, she continued, “We have business with the Calistrians.”

“The temple’s…” one of the guards said, scratching his head as he looked them up and down, first at Hadrian’s pacifier and latex bodysuit, then at Quinn’s ample breasts, to Sandra, an elf with a dragon like tail that twitched to emphasize her impatience. At least they’d managed to clear up a couple of the more awkward things–Sandra could at least pull her clothes down to cover her diaper properly, hiding the perpetual peek she’d been stuck with for a while, and Quinn had managed to find a caster who could permanently revert his size back to normal. It could have been worse.

Shaking off his confusion, the guard explained, “Eh…the temple’s got wrecked like you all. Not sure you’ll be able to do any business there.”

“We can help,” Sandra insisted, sliding the guild seal from her pocket to show him. “Let us pass, quickly.”

Shrugging, the guard nodded and stood back, allowing the four of them to ride through the gates.

To Hadrian’s chagrin, they couldn’t just gallop up main street–Verity was a big enough city that, even with a crisis in plain view, life had to go on. Merchants had to sell their merchandise, beggars had to beg, scoundrels had to scound. Their horses helped them navigate up the streets more quickly, but she could see the frustration build on Hadrian’s face as they got closer and closer, stymied by the thick press of busy people in the streets.

Finally, they came into view of the temple, and Hadrian leapt free of the saddle. Stumbling on his heels for a moment, he ran across the cobblestone street, up to the place where the temple entrance had once stood.

The walls were replaced with the same pastel-painted slightly foam substance. Where there had once been grand doors decorated with symbols of Calistria, the Savored Sting, there was now a large flap, more akin to something an animal would use.

Sandra pulled up behind him, bringing her mount to a nickering stop, and said, “We need to use cauti–”

Hadrian ran in through the flap.

“Damn.” Sandra jumped down from her own horse, taking a moment to tie it off to the hitching post, dealing with Hadrian’s as well.

Quinn began to help Tarja down and deal with their own mounts as well, but Sandra stopped him.

“You stay out here.” Sandra said. “If this place has some effect on the people inside, we can’t all just rush in. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, start finding a way to get Hadrian and I outside without any collateral damage.”

“Be safe, ‘Andwa,” Tarja lisped, before Sandra slipped under the flap, conjuring an umbral knife in her hands–she’d be ready for anything.

Inside, the grand hall of the temple had once been home to a massive stage, where scantily-dressed clerics would flaunt their goods in exchange for tithe. Calistria was a goddess of lust, after all, it made sense.

Now, where poles and stages had once been, cages and hard points floated in the air, trapping priests and worshipers alike. The sky could be seen above–the roof was floating far too high to fully shield from the elements, and the various bizarre structures Sandra had seen from afar loomed above them.

A foul smell hung in the air, the results of the curses and time that had warped the former holy place. Diapers were everywhere Sandra looked, wrapped around people of all genders and ancestries, most soiled to the point of leaking. Pacifiers, too, were a constant–held in place with leather and magic, so that the victims couldn’t spit them out, mumble, or even speak.

Some priests had their hands tied far above their heads, leaving them standing, desperate, unable to rest or relax. Sandra met their pleading eyes, though their words got distorted into helpless mumbling beneath their pacifiers.

She approached one. “Hold still,” she whispered, “Let me try…”

Reaching up, she touched the clasp holding the pacifier in place. She could plainly detect magic on it, and knew it had to be enchanted, but perhaps–

Her brain fogged for a moment, and she staggered back, falling to the ground. Her brain fuzzed, befuddled by magic. When she blinked and regained full control of her thoughts, she realized she’d begun suckling her thumb, and that her diaper–which had self cleaned not ten minutes prior–was suddenly sagging and full again, not that it could make the room smell any worse.

Shaking her head, Sanda stood, staggering for a moment before regaining her balance.

“I…” she said. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

The priest’s eyes didn’t show understanding, just desperation to be free. Regretfully, Sandra looked around further, careful not to touch anyone.

Other priests were in their own predicament. Some, trapped in cages or cribs, were cuffed spread eagle. Still others sat on adult-sized rocking horses that never fell still, wrists tied to handles and feet to the base, forced to shift back and forth, squelching their diapers interminably. Going by the slight bzzz sound filling the air, Sandra guessed more than a few had toys inside their diaper, torturing them in other ways that couldn’t be seen as easily.

There were more restraints, too, in patterns and configurations she didn’t know. X-shaped crosses. Spanking benches–though, mercifully, she saw no enchanted paddles going to town. Two particularly unfortunate clerics were tied to each other, wrist-to-ankle, so that their faces were buried in each other’s diapers.

She counted dozens of people in the grand temple room, all bound, all unable to move or flee. Some were faces she recognized. Some were strangers. All were helpless.

“Hadrian?” Sandra called, picking her way through the helpless, whimpering victims.

“Back here!” he called, voice carrying from a rear door.

She followed the sound. In the former backstage, it was less populated, but the cribs and cursed people inside were just as helpless. Hadrian was there, but as she stepped in, he looked from face to face, crib to crib, then turned and ran out the room.

Sandra followed, urgently, chasing after him as he went to the once-and-no-longer rectory. Here, there were no people, only changing supplies and baby food stacked on shelves, piles and piles of each, a trove of necessities for anyone who’d been cursed into diaper dependence.

Hadrian continued to run, and Sandra chased after him. “Wait, Hadrian–”

“I have to find her,” he called back, moving down a back hall, to the priest’s quarters. More cribs, more faces, but not the face he wanted to see. Up, then, to the library–now a play room, with baby books and lewd folios, baby toys and vibrating wands all scattered around as though they belonged together. A few priests, glassy eyed, were going through the motions of stacking blocks or organizing rings onto a post, seemingly without any control over their actions.

More desperate than ever, Hadrian continued his flight. He checked the kitchen, now filled with high chairs, and the restrooms, now filled exclusively with changing tables.

Nothing.

“She’s…” Hadrian panted, leaning against a changing table for support. “She’s not here.”

“Maybe she was out on business,” Sandra suggested. “Gwyndomere relies on her for jobs.”

“Gwyndomere’s gone, too,” Hadrian said. “He took–The Wizard took them.”

Sandra looked back out the changing room door, to the open field of restrained worshippers. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Hadrian said, a growl building in his throat. “But we’re not going to let this sta–”

“Hey!”

A voice called from the grand hall. Someone who could speak, not bound up by the curses and restraints.

Sandra stepped out, looking for the source of the voice. A man in white and gold robes. Sandra recognized the colors, indicating a god or goddess of healing, but couldn’t remember the divinity’s name.

“We’re with the guild,” Sandra said. “I’m–”

“Sandra Cassidy,” the cleric replied, stepping closer. He was older, with a neatly trimmed grey beard and a weary expression. “I know who you are. My name is Barro, I’m a priest of Aesocar. You shouldn’t be in here.”

“These people need help,” Sanda gestured, while mentally snapping a proverbial finger. (Aesocar! That’s the god I was thinking of.)

“We’re finding ways to do that,” Barro said, “But it’s dangerous. The pacifiers provide food and water, keeping them alive, but we haven’t yet found a way to get them down safely. They could be like this for weeks, and unless you know how to dispel it, there’s nothing for you to do but fall into a trap or erase your own mind by mistake.”

“I know how to work around the Wizard’s cruelty,” Sandra said.

“And you know how dangerous he is,” the cleric replied. “But–”

“Wait,” Hadrian said. “How do you know it could be weeks? When was the temple hit?”

The cleric shifted, uncomfortably, looking back at the door. “We should step outside–”

“What happened?” Hadrian demanded, stalking forward. “How long has it been like this?”

“This temple was hit this morning,” Barro said. “Eight members of the clergy are still unaccounted for, but…”

Sandra understood. “This isn’t the only one.”

“Four temples in eight days. The Wizard has been busy. And…it could be much, much worse than this.” He looked down and to the side. “My order was hit. Aesocar’s great hospital–the wizard rendered most of the finest healers in the realm to sadistic torments, turning their healing magic into cruel sources of pain.”

“Let’s go outside,” Sandra finally said.

Careful and reluctant, they stepped around the helpless, moaning victims, out into the fresh air.

“Four temples,” Sandra repeated. “What’s he doing?”

“We think, trying to get something.” Barro hesitated. “He’s taken the high priest of each, and several of their highest ranked assistants.”

“Serendipity,” Hadrian whispered.

“Gwyndomere,” Sandra added, thinking of the high priest’s power. If the Wizard had taken Gwyndomere, rather than coming in and attacking the temple while Gwyndomere was gone, then that implied danger and power beyond what she’d already feared.

“What’s going on?” Quinn asked, seeing them walk out.

“Danger and trouble,” Sandra started. “We’re going to need to be careful and decide our next move cautiously, something big and complicated is coming, and–”

“No,” Hadrian cut in. “It’s not complicated at all. We’re going to find the wizard, and when we do, we’re going to kill him.”

...

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THE ADULT CLINIC: POST OP MESSING’S

Katie was have a nice and messy weekend off from work and she was loving every second of it . Katie recently became a diaper dependent after undergoing a surgical procedure to do so at The Adult Clinic and have been messing her diapers ever-since . Every morning she would wake up in a moist and soggy diaper and lay in it until she would eventually change it . She was of course aroused by wearing them and they made her feel sexy and so young . Her boss at work couldn’t care less about it and now that she has a Doctor’s note supplied by the Adult Clinic to wear them they couldn’t do a thing about it there and her boyfriend also finds them kinky and loves the look and even when asked changes it for her . The only drawback of wearing them are the smell of them after she messes and inconvenient times she goes but she found ways to accommodate for the changes and has adjusted to wearing them . Katie doesn’t even regret her decision of becoming Diaper dependent and prefers it this way and wonders why no one else becomes diaper dependent.