The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Sarabeth wasn’t sure what possessed her to venture down the diaper aisle that day. It was a pretty routine trip to Walmart with Desmond, her little brother. He was after some new game or another for his PS4, and as he was only fifteen, Sarabeth was his unofficial chauffeur. It was a pretty even arrangement, so she couldn’t grumble; their parents paid for her car insurance and gas in return for her carting him all across the small town of Waldron, Ohio. And Desmond was actually pretty great, as far as little brothers went. He was still such a guy sometimes, but he was a real sweetie, and as lame as it sounded, Sarabeth considered him her best friend. Still, she couldn’t understand his obsession with video games sometimes, preferring a good book or a blank page in her sketchbook to sink hours into. Usually, when Desmond immersed himself in the electronics section of the store, she found her way over to the art supplies, just past the baby supplies.

For whatever reason, today she had made a little right.

Maybe it was the sign advertising a new line of Pampers called Pampers Growers. A nice cardboard display of the product in question bore a life-size picture of a girl about Desmond’s age wearing a pink sundress and smiling brightly. A slogan next to her read ‘For kids that are having some trouble growing up!’ Next to the slogan a little diagram showed what looks for all intents and purposes to be children’s diapers, complete with childish Disney designs and kitten patterns and whatnot, but if the little annotations next to them were to be believed, these diapers were meant for older kids, all the way up to teenagers. Well past the age of toilet-training.

Strange….

Tearing her eyes away from the display, Sarabeth continued her path to the arts and crafts section. She needed a new sketchbook, not a package of diapers. Even entertaining such a thought was humiliating, given past events.

Sarabeth had always been a heavy sleeper, to the point that she had to set a whole sound system as her alarm clock because the tinny beeping of normal alarms just never woke her. The doctors had once diagnosed her with a mild sleep disorder, but it was nothing life-threatening, just mildly inconvenient. At night, if the need to pee ever arose, she often didn’t wake up until her bladder was aching with a need for release, sending her hurrying to the bathroom down the hall.

This had all come to a head during her first and only sleepover, when she had been twelve. Awakening to an unfamiliar darkened room and desperately needing to relieve herself, she hadn’t quite made it to the bathroom and wet herself in the hallway. Heather Mitchell’s mother had still been awake and helped spare her the social suicide of wetting herself at a middle-school slumber party, but ever since then, Sarabeth had rather distanced herself from her friends, and anyone, really. She still had school acquaintances, but the only person she was really close to otherwise was her brother.

She reached the arts and crafts section, making the trek down the familiar aisle to the section with her favored choice of sketchbook. Mom and Dad were fairly well off, even if it meant spending most of their time tending to their travel agency. At least Sarabeth and Desmond never had to worry about spending money, as long as they didn’t try to drop several hundred dollars in one sitting or something.

Snatching up a sketchbook and some new pencils, she tucked them under her arm, her hand clumsily knocking over a little decorative mirror as she did. She picked it up and replaced it, sticking her tongue out at her reflection as she did. Dark hair to her shoulders, dark eyes, pale skin, and a somewhat prominent nose courtesy of Jewish ancestry on her mom’s side. Sarabeth didn’t consider herself a looker, but she also didn’t think she was hideous. She’d even been asked out a couple of times, but she just didn’t really have the desire for a boyfriend most girls her age did. She was about to go into her senior year in high school in September; she had bigger things to focus on.

She found her way to the registers, choosing a self-checkout simply to speed things up. Passing by a cooler full of Gatorade, she slid the door open and pulled a blue cherry out, and in minutes, she was rung up. She popped the lid on the Gatorade as she headed from the store, stepping out into the balmy afternoon. It was an Ohio summer, which meant humidity and the constant threat of either a horrific storm system or a weeks-long drought.

Those were the only two options.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her exercise pants, a relic of her short-lived membership to the track team, and she pulled it out, seeing a text from her brother.

‘Checking out now, where r u?’

Tapping out a reply, she told him that she would wait in the car for him, crossing the warm parking lot to do just that as she pulled a key from her pocket. Sarabeth’s parents updated their vehicles every few years, and they were well-off enough that Sarabeth had been given a hand-me-down for her sixteenth birthday. Thus, she was the envy of a few kids at school when she drove up in a 2010 Passat station wagon. Sure, it was a station wagon, but it was a nice-looking one, and it sat like eight people, meaning lunchtime runs to Taco Bell were usually conducted in her car.

At least she never had to pay.

Shutting the door with a clunk, she turned on the engine and quickly set the air-conditioning to full blast against the wave of humidity, plugging her phone in and opening up Spotify. An Indie-Folk mix filled the air, and she had to turn the volume up extra high against the rushing sound of the air vents spilling out cool air.

As Sarabeth relaxed, unbidden, the image of the Pampers Growers display came to mind. The happy, smiling girl in her pink sundress. Under such an innocuous garment, something hid that was at odds with how old the model was. Sarabeth couldn’t believe that someone her age would voluntarily go back to diapers, and if they did, how they could smile so beatifically. She would be so embarrassed, she wouldn’t be able to set foot outside.

Well…okay, she couldn’t deny that there would be some utility to wearing them at night. She often ended up sprinting for the bathroom, as heavily as she slept. A diaper would take the edge of panic off of the trip. Heck, she wouldn’t even have to get out of bed, really. She could just let go.

She shook herself, taking a drink of her Gatorade. There was no sense to be thinking like that; she was seventeen and certainly not any sort of incontinent. Her morbid fascination was just due to how strange such a new thing was.

The rear hatch opened, startling her from her musings, and Desmond tossed his purchases into the back of the car.

“Hey, girl,” he said, his trademark greeting.

“Sup,” Sarabeth said in her deepest toughest voice, which was neither, really. Grinning, Desmond shut the hatch with enough force to gently rock the car, hurrying to climb in.

Tall and gangly, Desmond was only imposing as far as he was tall. Both siblings were on the scrawny side, though Sarabeth had at least filled out a bit over puberty. Desmond was fast going the way of their father, doomed to be a bean pole with little in the way of definition. It didn’t help that he wasn’t involved in any sort of sports, preferring going straight home and sinking hours into his video games. He matched Sarabeth’s dark hair and pale complexion, though he’d been blessed with their grandmother’s bright green eyes, a fact he was rather proud of.

“Let’s get the hell home, it’s fucking sweltering out there,” he griped, reaching for Sarabeth’s phone with obvious intent to change the music, but she slapped his hand.

“Nuh-uh,” she said sternly. “My car, my phone, my music.”

“Aw, c’mooon,” he groaned. “I can’t stand this mopey indie bullshit.”

“I have to suffer your classic rock blasting through the wall while you play your video games at full-blast all the time,” Sarabeth said as she pulled out of the parking lot, not looking away from the road as she held a finger up at him. “Let me at least have the car ride.”

Desmond chuckled, and she could tell he was rolling his eyes, but he leaned back in his seat with a theatrical sigh.

“Alright, fine,” he said in a long-suffering voice. “My dear little sister wins again. I spoil you, you know.”

“Excuse me, which one of us is driving the other around because he’s too young?” Sarabeth asked, earning another chuckle from him. “Just because you shot up like a weed.”

“Yo, speaking of which,” he said. “Stuart’s gonna be stopping by with some supplies tomorrow. If you still wanna have plausible deniability, maybe stay upstairs or something.”

“You hippie,” Sarabeth smirked back at him, pulling to a stop. “You better hope Dad doesn’t find your stash.”

“You kidding?” Desmond asked with a snort. “I’m pretty sure he borrows from it sometimes.”

“Why don’t we just move to Colorado?” Sarabeth mused with a shake of her head, and Desmond cackled.

The two reached home in about ten minutes, pulling into Ironwood Estates, the gated community the Paxton family called home. It was a nice enough place, and a beautiful neighborhood, but Sarabeth sometimes found the neighbors to be a bit snobbish. A lot of these people were from old farming families or doctors carrying on the family business. Old money. Desmond and Sarabeth’s grandparents, on the contrary, had been military members that had socked away every penny to put their father through business school, and he had put his education to good use, starting a travel agency that made enough money to let his whole family live comfortably. Their mother only worked at the travel agency as Dad’s secretary to spend more time with him, lest his business become his “other lady”. This left the two kids alone with each other a lot, but they were long used to it.

Pulling into the small turnaround that had been appropriated as her parking spot, Sarabeth killed the engine and climbed out, leaving her empty Gatorade bottle behind to worry about later. Snickering, Desmond simply grabbed it and toted it along.

“Lazy,” he teased her, and she simply stuck her tongue out at him as she hurried for the house, keen to be back in the air-conditioned interior. “Yo, pop the hatch!”

Huffing, Sarabeth held the key fob up and held the hatchback button, waiting until she heard the distant clunk of the release before hurrying in the door. She heaved a happy sigh as the chilled air washed over her, making her shiver in delight. Kicking off her shoes she made her way to the living room and flumped onto the huge curved sofa, sinking into the huge cushions and reaching for the remote to turn on their sixty-inch TV.

Yeah, she was privileged and she knew it.

She heard Desmond coming in and making his way upstairs, but she was already browsing Netflix, settling on watching Parks and Recreation for the twentieth time while she broke in her new sketchbook. As the lovely theme tune filled the room, contending valiantly against the boom of Desmond’s stereo from upstairs, she started to scrawl out a drawing of a character she had dreamed up after reading The Hobbit and binging on the entire Lord of the Rings anthology. Were she not so comfy, she would probably get up and put The Fellowship of the Ring in, but she was already settled in. Netflix needed to get those movies already. Settled into a nice comfy couch with a good show on and the distraction of drawing, she soon relaxed, her eyelids getting heavy….

[HR][/HR]

When Sarabeth awoke, she became aware of a few things at once.

First, she’d been asleep for an hour or so, as evidenced by how low the sun was in the sky. Her parents were even home; she could hear her mother in the kitchen, unpacking groceries.

Second, she needed to pee, rather badly. The Gatorade she’d had earlier was now fully digested and pushing insistently against her bladder.

And finally, something was…off, between her legs. There was a heavy thickness, like a small pillow had been pressed between them, wrapping up over her abdomen and encasing her butt in thick softness. It crinkled softly as she sat up, and she was momentarily distracted from the fullness of her bladder long enough to pull up the waistband of her pants, gasping and feeling her face flush at what she saw.

She was wearing a diaper. Rather than the blue thong she’d started the day with, it had been replaced with a fluffy pink Pampers Grower, and most embarrassingly, it was Frozen-patterned. It was secretly one of her favorite movies, and that meant that there was only one person who could have done this.

“Desmond!” she shouted, standing and fixing her shirt. The diaper made it feel strange to walk, and it crinkled quietly with every step she took. She stalked for the stairs, seeing her mom peek out from the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she said with a smile. “I think your brother is in the bathroom, sweetie.”

Uh-oh. That did it. Even mentioning the bathroom brought Sarabeth’s attention back to her full bladder, but she fought it, hurrying past the stairs to the downstairs bathroom. She rapped her knuckles sharply on the door, trying the knob but finding it locked.

“Desmond Allen Paxton, get out of there,” she said in a voice loud enough for only him to hear. “What the hell is this?”

In response, all she heard was the flush of the toilet, and the sound only intensified the push on her bladder, a dribble sneaking out and soaking into the padding. She stood there, legs pressed together and squirming, until she finally couldn’t stand it. Seizing a longshot, she hurried away, intending to hobble upstairs and use that bathroom, but she realized that Dad always showered right after work. She could even hear the distant sound of it from here. Not that it would have been any use.

She wouldn’t have made it.

“Oh…” she gasped out, slumping against the wall as she felt her bladder giving in and releasing. For a long moment, she just stood there, feeling the rush of urine pouring forth, at odds with her current location, the hallway outside the bathroom. She wasn’t even sitting down, just standing there, feeling warm wetness pooling between her legs as the padding swelled up a bit. “Oh, man….”

She heard the bathroom door open, and Desmond stepped out with a little smile at her. It wasn’t a mocking smirk or laughter, just a warm, genuine smile. He moved closer and wrapped her up in a hug, resting his chin on top of her head. Why did he have to be so much taller than her!? His hand came up and gently rubbed circles on her back as he spoke softly in her ear.

“All finished?” he asked, and she shook her head, feeling her eyes water with embarrassment. “You’re fine, alright?”

“Why did you – “

“Let’s talk later,” he said as the flow of urine finally tapered off, leaving Sarabeth a little frightened. She had just wet herself, and it was difficult to reconcile to herself that she was wearing a diaper, so it was okay. She was safe.

She felt really safe, actually.

“But I – “

“Later,” he said. “Let’s get some food, alright? You hungry?”

She nodded, feeling herself hunch shyly.

“All done?” he asked with a light tap to the front of her diaper, causing her to blush darkly as she nodded again.

“I can’t go in there like this,” she said. “Mom’ll notice.”

“No she won’t,” Desmond insisted, taking her hand. “C’mon, you don’t trust me?”

“You think about what you just did to me and ask that question again,” Sarabeth challenged him, and he snickered.

“Fair point,” he said. “Look, I swear I have an explanation for this, and I’ll tell you when we get upstairs. Okay?”

He pulled her along, and she sighed, letting him lead her into the kitchen, a large affair with top-of-the-line appliances and a curved island bar in the middle. Mom was standing there, opening the oven and reaching in with a mitted hand to pull out a Stouffer’s lasagna. Five cheese, Sarabeth’s favorite. She allowed herself a small moment of delight at the surprise before going back to terrified. Here she was, standing in the kitchen like it was the most normal thing ever, like she wasn’t wearing a used diaper, one that she herself had used. The diaper felt even thicker and heavier between Sarabeth’s legs now that she had wet it, and it crinkled ever so softly as she walked. She looked down, wondering if there was an obvious bulge, but the athletic pants she wore were loose-fitting enough that she couldn’t even tell at a glance what strange manner of underwear she had on.

“There you are,” Mom said, sticking a spatula into the lasagna and serving them both up a heaping plateful. Mom was the spitting image of Sarabeth plus about twenty years. Sarabeth took comfort in the fact that she would at least age gracefully, if her mother was any kind of evidence. She had the same brown eyes, the same dark hair, and only faint laugh lines around her mouth signified that she was nearing forty. “So, how was your day? Did you get that game?”

“Yes, and I already kick ass at it,” Desmond said, setting his plate on the kitchen island and cutting a bite while he smiled up at their mother. She smiled back but raised her spatula threateningly.

“Watch your language around your mother,” she said with a rueful smile.

“Yes, Mom,” Desmond replied with a roll of his eyes, taking a bite of the lasagna. “Mm! This is some of the best frozen lasagna you’ve ever made, Mom. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“You are cruising,” Mom said as Sarabeth took a bite of her own lasagna, moving over to scoot onto a stool at the bar. Her diaper crinkled softly as she settled onto the padding, her own personal wearable cushion. She could feel the warmth of the soaked padding still drying under her, could faintly smell a tinge of diaper rash ointment and baby powder. Thankfully, it seemed only she could smell it over the delicious aroma of lasagna.

Sarabeth ate quickly, trying not to make it apparent that she was rushing through her meal. At least she could disguise her eagerness to be out of here as enjoyment of the lasagna. Her mom grilled them about their day, but Desmond fielded most of the questions, as he tended to. Desmond was the outspoken sibling, the spoiled younger brother that was the apple of their parents’ eye. Sarabeth didn’t even have the honor of being a daddy’s girl; their father was distant, often lost in his work or wishing to be left alone after a rough day at the office.

“Boy, you really inhaled that,” Mom said with a smile. “Is my cooking that good?”

“Delicious,” Sarabeth said, passing her plate to Mom and climbing to her feet. “I’m off to my room. Thanks, Mom.”

As Mom turned and headed for the dishwasher, Desmond took hold of Sarabeth’s wrist, leaning down to mutter into her ear.

“Just leave it on for now, okay?” he asked, and Sarabeth shook her head vehemently.

“I’m taking it off – “

“C’mon,” he said. “Just for two seconds, think about it without getting all wrapped up in how embarrassing it is or whatever. You’re safe.”

She shivered a bit at that, huffing and hurrying from the kitchen. Her diaper crinkled a bit with each step as walked, feeling the thick padding clinging tightly to her. As she reached the stairs, she saw her father walking down, wearing sweats and a t-shirt. His blonde hair was still wet from the shower, his perfectly-trimmed circle goatee hiding the way his chin looked a little too small for his face.

“Hey, pumpkin,” he said, and as usual, Sarabeth fought back a grimace; she hated pet names, and Dad called her almost exclusively by them. “Did you eat already?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m gonna go draw in my room.”

“Have fun,” Dad told her, patting her head and strolling off to the kitchen. Sarabeth hurried up the stairs to her room, shutting the door and locking it before yanking her pants off. Standing there with just her diaper and shirt on, she stared at her reflection in the mirror on the back of her door, holding her shirt up to get a better look at her padding. It was a soft, pale blue-gray with pink and purple snowflake designs and an image of a smiling Elsa and Anna. It felt strange, knowing Desmond probably picked out these for her because she was a fan of Frozen. That she could have a preferred diaper design just seemed…weird for a girl her age.

And really, what was he thinking? Just because she’d had one honest accident as a result of her heavy sleeping, now she belonged in diapers? That had been years ago. Why was he suddenly all about this now?

She knew she probably should have just ripped this thing off already, told Desmond firmly that she wouldn’t be buying into whatever weird game he was playing, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment her bladder had given in, when she had reached the end of her ability to hold it in and wet herself out of pure desperation. It had brought back fresh waves of humiliation, vivid memories of that night at Heather Mitchell’s. Normally, wetting herself meant cleanup, it meant laundry, ruined panties, maybe even mopping up the floor if it was a big enough deal. Thanks to this thing, she had wet herself and simply continued about her day, gone and eaten dinner.

It had made her feel safe.

A soft knock came from her door, and she jumped, hurrying over and placing her hand on the knob.

“It’s me,” Desmond said. “You left your sketchbook in the living room.”

Sarabeth sighed and opened the door, stepping back to let him in and quickly shutting it. Desmond smiled at her, tossing her sketchbook onto her bed and turning to gently pat her swollen diaper, making her squeak when he pulled the waistband away from her back to peer down at her butt.

“What are you doing?” she asked, scandalized.

“Checking to see if you need a change,” he said as though it were the most obvious and normal thing in the world. “You’re good for now, though.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sarabeth asked, stepping away and placing her hands on her hips resolutely. Desmond nodded at the sketchbook on her bed.

“Who’s the hobbit?” he asked. “Her name is Aria?”

“She—I wanted to make my own hobbit,” Sarabeth said. “She’s the daughter of an apple farmer, Farmer Macintosh. Why are – “

“Does she go on adventures like Bilbo?” Desmond asked, making his way over and sitting next to the sketchbook, picking it up and peering at it. Sarabeth hurried over and snagged it away from him, plunking down next to him. “Or is she just a simple farmer?”

“She wants to go on adventures,” Sarabeth said, peering down at the page. “But she’s the only child of her family, and her mom can’t have any more babies. So her dad wants her to marry a nice man that can help take over the family business. She wants to run away, but she’d feel so guilty if she did, so she’s stuck.”

“Living a life she doesn’t want to,” Desmond said, rubbing her back. Sarabeth felt the mattress shifting under her, and she looked over to see him reaching for a hairbrush on her dresser. Soon, she felt the gentle scrape of the bristles along her scalp, sending relaxing tingles up her spine. “So, if she was an adventurer, what would she do? Does she know any magic?”

“She wants to be a wizard,” Sarabeth said in a soft voice, disarmed by his gentle brushing. She could feel the beginnings of an insistent push of the second half of that Gatorade bottle making itself known on her bladder. Tilting her head down to let Desmond have better access for brushing, she couldn’t help but notice her bare legs and her diaper. She could just hear Elsa’s words in her head.

“Let it go, let it go….”

Not exactly the intended message of the song, but she didn’t want to spoil this relaxing moment either. Sighing, she let herself relax, and the flow began, wet warmth pooling under her as she soaked her diaper. She couldn’t believe she was voluntarily using it, but Desmond was actually being sort of sweet, brushing her hair and talking to her about her fantasy character.

Sort of like a big brother would….

“What kind of magic would she use?” Desmond asked, and Sarabeth gave the tiniest of shrugs, still peeing a bit before it tapered off to a little dribble. “I bet she would use conjuration. Like, summoning elementals and stuff. Just this big monster made of dirt running around beating things up for her.”

“That would be pretty cool,” Sarabeth admitted. “Oh! And she could give them all really girly sounding names, like this big stone monster, and she calls it Pebbles, or an ice troll named Snowball!”

“I love this character,” Desmond said with a grin. “Aria Macintosh, the Halfling wizard that loves summoning huge monsters and giving them adorable pet names.”

Sarabeth giggled softly, her eyes fluttering shut as he continued his gentle brushing motion.

“And she actually hates apples!” she said, the idea suddenly occurring to her. “She loves…mangoes. And oranges and citrus fruits. If that ever got out, she would be disgraced and exiled!”

Desmond chuckled at that, shaking his head and setting the brush aside. As he stood, Sarabeth pouted up at him.

“Where are you going?” she asked, and he turned, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I just got a new video game,” he said, “and I’ve only spent an hour playing it so far.”

“Of course,” Sarabeth muttered. “How could I forget?”

He reached out and gently tousled her hair, smiling warmly at her.

“Wanna come with?” he asked. “I’ll try to keep the volume down, and you can draw while I play, hm?”

Mulling it over for a moment, Sarabeth stood, hearing a soft crinkle as she reached down to pick up her pants, pulling them on and hiding her diaper away. It was even heavier now, sagging a bit with the weight of her pee, but Desmond apparently thought she could go a bit longer, and for some reason, she felt reluctant to just yank it away. She didn’t want to disappoint her brother when he was being so sweet. She trotted along behind Desmond with her sketchbook clutched against her chest, peering up at him. He was so tall now, and he was being so kind. Not that he wasn’t always, but something had changed in his demeanor. Instead of acting like her dorky little brother, it was almost like he was trying to play the part of indulgent older brother.

It was sort of nice.

Both Desmond’s and Sarabeth’s rooms had televisions in them, and they both had full-size beds, all the better to sprawl on when they slept. That was where the similarities ended, however; while Sarabeth’s room had an artist’s table stocked with all kinds of pencils and whatnot, as well as a seldom-used computer, a Roku for the sake of Netflix, the aforementioned alarm clock/sound system, and a few well-stocked bookshelves, Desmond’s room was a teen gamer’s paradise. He had one of those ridiculously-expensive gaming chairs that couldn’t possibly be comfortable, an Alienware computer (whatever that meant) and a Playstation 4 hooked up to his television along with a surround sound system consisting of no less than eight speakers and a subwoofer. He adamantly refused to get an Xbox One, apparently calling himself a “loyalist”. He also had a set of shelves, but rather than books, it was stacked with sci-fi and fantasy figurines, as well as some paraphernalia from the numerous Collector’s Editions he bought of his video games. It was a cozy room with lots of personality, and Sarabeth felt immediately at ease.

“Wanna drink?” Desmond asked, ducking into a mini fridge and emerging with a Dr. Pepper, Sarabeth’s favorite. He tossed it to her, and she popped the top as she crawled onto his bed, opening her sketchbook to a blank page. She was dimly aware of Desmond starting his game back up, hearing the generic din of video game sounds, shooting, blasting, magic, whatever. She was focused on the page, however, sketching out a new design of Aria, this time flanked by a frost troll and a large rock monster.

She lost track of time, but by the time the bottle of Dr. Pepper was empty, she was nearly finished with the drawing, and the sun was down. Knuckling back a yawn despite the caffeine of the drink, she nestled into the huge pillow on Desmond’s bed, and just as she decided to maybe add a third minion, perhaps a fire tiger named Sparky, her eyelids were already drooping.

2 Likes

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Welcome to the forum. If this is an indication of what you bring, you are very welcome here.

I like the idea of the siblings getting along so well. The quality of the writing is good, good enough that I don’t have any errors to mention. I’m looking forward to this continuing.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

I liked this a lot. Very comfy reading, and all that detail about the characters’ hobbies really fleshes them out. Sarabeth comes across as a girl who’s “having some trouble growing up”, but in a nuanced kind of way. Desmond is a caring ‘big’, but he has a life and quirks beyond filling that role. Siblings are a pretty rare theme in ABDL stories, and this story makes me wonder why.

With the premise of Pampers Growers and the instant transition to diapers, I was expecting this to be an Alternate Reality story, where Desmond literally becomes the older brother. But it seems the world is normal and Desmond is just orchestrating this? I’m curious about his motivations and how he ‘knew’ Sarabeth would like this treatment. Anyway, I’m looking forward to more!

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Lovely so far, keep it up.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Maybe it’s just me but I feel like I’ve read a whole lot of stories centered around sibling relationships. Most of them seem to be about two sisters, though. But that’s probably got more to do with the heavy favoring of female protagonists in the genre in general.

[QUOTE=donbiki;68104]
With the premise of Pampers Growers and the instant transition to diapers, I was expecting this to be an Alternate Reality story, where Desmond literally becomes the older brother. But it seems the world is normal and Desmond is just orchestrating this? I’m curious about his motivations and how he ‘knew’ Sarabeth would like this treatment. Anyway, I’m looking forward to more![/QUOTE]
It may seem that way for now, but I’m definitely not ruling it out. I think explaining the situation with mundane reasoning could prove tricky. Perhaps he saw her staring at them and knew that she sometimes had trouble making it at night, but that’s still quite a large leap.

Plus, I feel like Desmond is a pretty common name for demonic or sorcery-based characters. Maybe not quite in the league of Damien, but probably pretty close.

On a mostly unrelated note, am I the only one who always likes the “Pampers started making bigger products” trope? Even though it’s frankly been done to death, every time somebody uses that I eat it up. I guess there’s something about the idea of real world brand name diapers for big boys and girls right there on the grocery store shelf that always helps draws me in even though I know it’s so common.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Welcome to the board. This is, as ally said, a highly auspicious debut. Your writing has me enthralled, though I am not at all sure where you intend to take the plot that will keep it interesting and original. I agree with the issue that has been brought up that there seems to be no motivation for Desmond to do what he does, nor any motivation for Sarabeth to accept it beyond a fleeting one-time thought in a market. And there is no prior indication that either of them has ever considered their age relationship inverted. I hope this is all clarified as you continue. :slight_smile:

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Tried to explain some motivations with this one. Hope it satisfies. Thank you all for the positive feedback.
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Sarabeth didn’t really dream often, and when she did, they were usually little snippets, short bursts of moments and context that she couldn’t begin to unravel before she was waking up. That night, she dreamed of a shire, of endless green hills and fields of potatoes, carrots, and whatever hobbits grew. She was standing on a long dirt road that ran out of the village, and she was on her way to an adventure. Her diaper was thick and heavy under her travelling cloak. Maybe she should go back home for one last change before –

Her eyes snapped open, and she was in her room, nestled into her blankets against the chill of the air conditioning. Outside, the sky was gray with a post-sunrise glow. It had to be only five or six in the morning; why was she awake already? Oh, she realized, as she felt the pressure of a critically full bladder. Shifting around, she felt her diaper crinkle as much as she heard it, but it wasn’t nearly as swollen as before. Desmond had to have changed her into a fresh one when she conked out. Too tired to even muster the indignation necessary to crawl out of bed and go use the toilet anyway, she slumped back into her warm, cozy covers and released with a soft sigh, enjoying the simplicity of being able to relieve herself without even getting up. Hugging her pillow, she fell right back asleep.

Several hours later, she blinked her eyes open once more, feeling much more rested. It was probably ten or so now, a much more reasonable hour for a teenager to be crawling out of bed. Mom and Dad had gone to work hours ago, leaving the two children home alone until well into the evening. Sarabeth rolled onto her back, stretching and relishing in the feeling of yet another lazy summer day. She reached over, grabbing her phone off her nightstand, and swiped to unlock it. No texts, no calls, no Facebook notifications, and definitely no Snapchats.

She wasn’t even sure what had possessed her to download that particular app.

Stretching again, she slumped into the blankets, dropping her phone onto her bedside table again and considering if she wanted to get out of bed or not. Now that the urgency of needing to go to the bathroom soon was subverted by the diaper Desmond had put on her, she could relax and take her time. Embarrassing as it was to admit to herself, wearing diapers was awfully convenient. Speaking of which, she could feel the beginnings of another pang on her bladder, so she went ahead and released what ended up being a small gush of urine.

Was she giving in too easily to this? Obviously, Desmond wanted her to wear diapers, and just as obviously, he was willing to treat her with the loving, nurturing care more typical of an older brother from some kind of manga or something. She could cause a fuss, maybe even go to Mom and Dad and get him to stop, but something about that felt wrong. Desmond was doing this out of some misguided kindness, and to return that by getting him potentially grounded forever and branded a creep in the eyes of their parents seemed a little overboard. But he was also deflecting her attempts at calling him out on this with expert ease, distracting her with loving and tender affection.

Sarabeth didn’t see much of that in her life.

She could continue to attempt to call him out, but she was the farthest thing from confrontational outside of her playful little spats with Desmond, and even then, she only got into those when she knew she would win. Desmond was happy to concede small defeats, but he was stubborn as a mule when it was over something he really wanted.

And he really wanted Sarabeth to spend some time in diapers.

Sighing once more, she sat up, pulling her blanket back and shivering a bit at the chill of air as it washed over her bare legs. Desmond had put her to bed in nothing but her shirt and a diaper, leaving the padding exposed. Curious; today’s pattern was Mulan, another of her favorite Disney movies. The diaper itself was yellow with some green accents on the large decal on the front. Mulan and Mushu the dragon were in some kind of pose, smiling all dynamically, like they were pleased about the darkened diaper that was their backdrop.

How many different kinds of Pampers Growers had Desmond bought?

Sarabeth clambered from her bed, stretching and feeling the pillow-soft embrace of the diaper following her. It was so thick, way thicker than her panties, clinging to her everywhere it touched. She reached back and pressed her hands into the seat, hearing it crinkle softly.

“Weird,” she muttered to herself, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and pulling them on to hide her diaper, just in case she walked by a window and someone was peeking in. She made her way across the hall to the bathroom. Whether or not she was going to be using the toilet for a little while, but she still needed to brush her teeth.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, she had to admit that she couldn’t tell she was wearing a diaper, even when she was looking for it. And it would probably be convenient to not have to get up to use the bathroom, possibly interrupting a good movie or TV show, or a sudden rush of creative flow that she didn’t want to cut off. Actually, the fact that she was already trying to talk herself into it meant that she was probably going to humor Desmond for at least a few days and let him keep her in diapers. Of course, she was also going to reap the benefits of being his precious little sister, as much as she could. It was only fair, after all.

Although, judging from the smell of bacon now wafting upstairs, she wouldn’t have to talk him into spoiling her. Grinning, she rinsed one final time and hurried from the bathroom, making her way downstairs and into the kitchen to see Desmond in a pair of comfy-looking shorts and a tank-top, expertly turning some bacon over in a frying pan on the stove. He spotted her entrance and smiled, gesturing her over.

“There’s my sleeping beauty,” he said affectionately, reaching out to pull the waistband of Sarabeth’s pants out and check her diaper. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a boulder, as usual,” Sarabeth said, squeaking when he let her waistband snap back against her. “Ow, abuse!”

He chuckled, reaching out to poke her on the nose.

“I see you’re feeling better today?” he asked. “Realized how relaxing summer can really be for you?”

He seemed reluctant to allude directly to this little setup of his, preferring to keep it cryptic. Sarabeth could play along.

“I think at least the next few days can be relaxing,” she said with a little pout up at him, dropping her voice to a shy whisper. “It’s just a little weird, too.”

“Give it time,” Desmond told her. “Wanna eat breakfast in the living room? Lord of the Rings marathon?”

“Okay,” Sarabeth said. “Lemme go get my sketchbook so I can doodle while I watch.”

She turned and headed from the kitchen, making her way upstairs and into her room. As she sought out her sketchbook, she noticed for the first time the three packages of diapers at the foot of her bed, out of sight of anyone passing by but fully visible to anyone searching her room. Her first instinct was to be embarrassed, but really, no one ever went in her room except for the cleaning lady on her weekly visits, and she didn’t ask questions. Moving closer, Sarabeth crouched and examined the packages. One was the Frozen diapers from yesterday, ripped open and missing one. The next was the Mulan ones, missing the diaper she was wearing right now. There was a third, unopened package as well, this one containing diapers adorned with Marvel characters. At first, Sarabeth thought Desmond might have gotten her boy diapers, but there was a girl of about fourteen on the cover, tucking herself into bed.

Who did they get to model for these things? Sarabeth would hate to be recognized as “that girl from the diaper packaging” at school. Maybe they were children of Pampers executives, goaded into doing it for their parents. Sarabeth remembered the time when she was seven and Desmond was five, and their parents had taken them to work to pose for a summer travel brochure. They’d gotten to dress up in swimwear and shoot on-location at the beach, which was nice, and Mom had even bought Sarabeth a funnel cake at some stand on the beach.

It was the closest thing to a vacation she had ever had; for the children of travel agents, she rarely got to go anywhere.

Standing, she collected her sketchbook and her phone, grabbing her tablet as well, just in case she felt like reading a book. She made her way back downstairs, passing by the kitchen on her way to the living room and sticking her tongue out at her brother when she saw him.

“Put that thing away!” he called out to her with a grin, and Sarabeth just giggled to herself, plunking down on the couch with a soft whump sound coming from her diaper.

She was checking Facebook on her phone when Desmond strode in and placed a plat of bacon and eggs in front of her. She laughed when she saw that the two fried eggs were acting as eyes, the bacon strips arranged in a wide-mouthed smile. To drink, Desmond had prepared a cappuccino on the tedious machine Dad had gotten Mom for Christmas last year. It was an arduous thing to use, and Mom had made one attempt before leaving it as a decorative piece and conversation starter. For some reason Desmond was a natural with it, though he never let Mom know, as she would designate him the official barista of the family and have him churning out five or six cups a day every weekend.

“Your breakfast, madam,” Desmond said. “And an extra-strong cappuccino. Double-shot of espresso.”

“Yum!” Sarabeth said, bouncing happily in her seat. Summers usually meant cereal for breakfast, simply because they were both too lazy to commit to cooking anything, and on the rare occasion they did have anything, it was Sarabeth getting talked into it by her little brother.

Not today, though.

“Did you put the movie in yet?” Desmond asked, and Sarabeth huffed, sticking her tongue out again.

“I sat down and got comfy, and I didn’t wanna get back up,” she said.

“Brat,” he chuckled, making his way to the large entertainment center that housed their TV. He dug out the DVD, an old relic that the family hadn’t seen fit to update to Blu Ray, and put it in the tray without complaint.

Sarabeth was surprised; normally, Desmond would have ribbed her a bit, maybe even made her get up and put it in while stealing a bite of her bacon. Deciding to push her luck, she leaned over to his plate and snatched up a piece of bacon, stuffing the whole thing in her mouth and chewing. When he sat down and noticed the piece missing, he turned to see her with her mouth full and quirked an eyebrow.

“Did you – “

“No,” Sarabeth said, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You little….” With that, he lunged and dug his fingers into Sarabeth’s side’s, and she shrieked, squirming away from the tickling hands.

“Ah! Noooo, why you do thiiiiis?” she squealed, twitching and wriggling out of his grip. “Okay, you can have a piece of mine, I confess!”

She huffed as he gave her a triumphant grin, popping a piece of her bacon in his mouth. Sitting up, she saw that her attempted escape had caused her pants to slide down her thighs, exposing her diaper. She fixed her little wardrobe malfunction and settled back into her seat, pouting him.

“Jerk-face,” she groused, and he bumped her with his shoulder.

“Brat,” he said again.

They dug into their breakfast, Sarabeth munching hers down with gusto and chasing it with most of her cappuccino. Desmond took the plates into the kitchen and started to clean up a bit when they were done, and Sarabeth nestled into the couch, pulling her legs up and curling against a large cushion. Midway through the movie, she wet her diaper again while she was scrawling out a sketch of Aria.

By the time the credits were rolling, she was alone in the living room, the sketch was finished, and Sarabeth was experiencing a different, uncomfortable pressure in her tummy. Coffee, especially strong cappuccino, always had her rushing to the bathroom within a half hour or so, and not just to pee. It wasn’t to say it had a full-on laxative effect and made her go against her will, but her stomach definitely started to cramp up a bit if she tried to hold it, and it was doing so right now. Compounded with the coffee shooting right through her to fill her bladder, it was a downright tense situation. How could she not have thought of this part? Peeing her diaper was easy enough after a bit of mental coaching, but…messing one? Could she do that? Where was Desmond?

She could hear him playing his video game upstairs, having probably gotten tired of the Lord of the Rings movie, so she stood, intending to at least tell him that she had to poop pretty bad, hobbling a bit toward the stairs. It would be a simple matter to just relax and let her diaper fill up; that was how on the verge she was. Stupid Desmond and his delicious cappuccino.

Halfway up the stairs, she lost the fight. Her stomach gave a particularly painful lurch, and she found herself peeing to see if that would relieve any of the pressure. All that did, though, was relax her enough to empty everything. She felt the push, felt herself open up, and then something long, warm, and soft was sliding out of her, mushing against the seat of her diaper and causing it to expand and tighten around her. She couldn’t stop a small noise of relief at the sensation, her diaper sagging quite heavily between her legs now. Despite the weighted padding, she had never felt so light and empty.

And humiliated.

She paused on the step, awash in embarrassment at what she had just done. She consoled herself only with the fact that at least it wasn’t a full-fledged accident; had she gotten up and gone straight for the bathroom, she would have been fine. But she hadn’t. She’d pooped her diaper instead. She could feel the warm mass pushing against her cheeks, shifting as she finished climbing the steps and crossed the landing to knock on her brother’s door.

“Desmond?” she called, aware that her voice was a little throaty with emotion. Her eyes stung, and she reached up to wipe away a few tears that were trailing down her cheeks. Oh, no. Was she crying? Desmond peeked out his door, peering down at her and smiling in understanding.

“C’mon,” he said, stepping into the hallway and taking her hand. “Let’s get you changed.”

Quietly, she let him lead her to her bedroom, wondering if maybe the short-lived novelty of wearing diapers was already wearing off. While Desmond bent to get a new diaper from the packages at the foot of her bed, she tried her best to speak around the lump of embarrassment in her throat.

“Um…couldn’t I just wear my – “

“Ssshhh, just lie down on the bed, okay?” Desmond shushed her with a finger to her lips.

“But Desmond…” she trailed off, and despite her protestations, she found herself sitting on the bed, which already had a changing mat unrolled onto it. She winced at the mushy feeling of her messy diaper under her butt, shifting to lie on her back. She was about to have her diaper changed, by her younger brother, no less. She still couldn’t understand what was in her head that was letting him do this to her. She was too passive, unable to argue even when it was something as wild as being put back into diapers. This morning, she was all for the experience, but the realization that she would have to do everything in them was…jarring.

She felt Desmond undo the tapes, and the diaper flumped open under the weight of its load, letting the smell waft outward. Her brother was ready, though, spraying a thick mist of air freshener. It helped, but the pungent undertones of her work still lingered in the air. Desmond grabbed a wipe from a package of baby wipes he had procured and then set to work wiping up the mess. It was a lengthy task; every time she thought he was done, he would grab another wipe and slide it along another nook or cranny. Soon, though, her skin was glistening and clean, the dirty diaper packed with spent wipes. He rolled the padding up and dropped it into a plastic bag to deal with later.

“Nice and clean,” he said, poking her nose. “Feel a bit better now?”

“Yeah,” Sarabeth admitted. Now that she knew a clean diaper was just around the corner, maybe…maybe using it for the messier side of things wouldn’t be so bad? Plus, Desmond was being such a sweetie through this whole thing. She just wished she knew why he suddenly wanted to do this. She wondered, as he lifted her butt from the bed and slid a new diaper under her (Frozen again), if he had seen her eyeing the display at Walmart and mistook her curiosity with fascination, maybe even longing. If so, she had made it abundantly clear that that was simply not the case, and whatever strange curiosity she was developing now, it was only after the fact.

That, howver, brought up the point that there was a strange curiosity developing. Embarrassing as it was, there was also a certain comfort and safety to be found wearing diapers. She had never had accidents (outside of the one when she was twelve), but ever since that accident at Heather Mitchell’s, there had been a certain latent anxiety about making it to the bathroom on time, and maybe she was only just realizing it now that it wasn’t there anymore. She felt more relaxed than she had in years, and it was because she was simply giving up the notion of making it to the bathroom and time and taking it with her. While Desmond lathered her up with diaper rash ointment, she reached up to poke his nose.

“Why?” she asked him, and he blinked.

“To protect you from a rash, dummy,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel before reaching for a canister of baby powder.

“You know what I mean, Desmond,” Sarabeth said. “Why?”

Desmond sighed, dusting her with some powder before pulling the font of the diaper up, smoothing it over her tummy and pulling it snug. With a startlingly loud ripping noise, he pulled the tapes free from their backing and fixed them tightly in place, and Sarabeth was wearing a fresh diaper. For some reason, this made it feel much more real. She hadn’t just been wearing a diaper, she was wearing diapers, plural, going from one to the next with nothing in between. Only after helping Sarabeth to her feet and hugging her did Desmond answer her question.

“It’s your turn to be cherished,” he said. “Growing up, I could tell Mom and Dad sort of favored me. I remember them mentioning at Christmas one time that they always wanted a son, and like…I think that’s where I realized that I was kinda the…the favorite, you know? I mean, they have you, and a year later, they try for me? You never got the spoiled treatment, you just had to be a big sister, and I don’t think that’s fair.”

“Oh…” Sarabeth trailed off, “well, okay, but….”

She gestured at her diaper, and Desmond nodded at the unspoken question.

“I saw you looking at the display yesterday,” he said. “I figured there had to be something there, even if you were too afraid to admit it, so…. Was I off base?”

“I guess not,” Sarabeth admitted. “I mean…it’s embarrassing. And confusing. And….”

“Look, give it a few days, like I said,” Desmond told her. “You said yourself, you’d give it a shot. It’s too soon to make a call yet, right?”

“A few days,” Sarabeth repeated, tugging her pants back on over her diaper. Downstairs, the doorbell chimed, and Desmond checked his watch.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s my guy. You stay up here, alright?”

He hurried from the room, leaving Sarabeth to stand there and pull her waistband away so she could peer down at her diaper once more. Despite her apprehension, she couldn’t deny that she felt more relaxed than anything. Even the most urgent need to use the bathroom was no longer urgent. She could just go whenever she needed and let Desmond worry about it later.

Maybe…this could actually be a good thing.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Thanks for the quick update. I like how this is going. It seems Desmond got lucky with the bathrooms being unavailable until too late when he first put the diaper on her, or I imagine this might have had a very different direction. Of course, in that case there might not have been a story of interest to us, so it’s fine.

I do like how Sarabeth is coming to find that diapers are not as bad as she feared. I’d have expected her to find it hard to let Desmond clean her during the first diaper change she’s awake for, but that’s a minor detail. There was a typo there, with Desmond dropping the used diaper into a plastic “back”.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Nice clarifications as you continue to build a solid relationship between these two. :slight_smile:

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Thanks for the tip! I will fix that!

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

You’re very good at peppering detail/reflection into the flow of action.

Desmond sighed, dusting her with some powder before pulling the font of the diaper up, smoothing it over her tummy and pulling it snug. With a startlingly loud ripping noise, he pulled the tapes free from their backing and fixed them tightly in place, and Sarabeth was wearing a fresh diaper. For some reason, this made it feel much more real. She hadn’t just been wearing a diaper, she was wearing diapers, plural, going from one to the next with nothing in between. Only after helping Sarabeth to her feet and hugging her did Desmond answer her question.

A lot of ABDL authors would write that without the colored text, then write separate paragraphs for purple prose and self-reflection.

Anyway, I’m curious about how this story can continue. It seems like dramatic tension (Sarabeth’s resistance), mystery (Desmond’s motives), and progression (underwear to diapers, peeing to pooping, etc) have been mostly resolved. Are you sure you haven’t jumped the gun?

On that note, here’s a little tip. When feedback says a detail is weird or confusing, that doesn’t always mean you should rush to explain it. Unraveling the uncertain is, after all, a major joy of reading. You just need to assure the reader that the detail is supposed to be a mystery, so they don’t think they’ve missed something. For example, some lines like this in Chapter One:

Sarabeth couldn’t believe what Desmond was doing. What could possibly explain this strange behavior?

Then you can hold the mystery over the reader’s head, and drip-feed them the answer. For example, maybe in this chapter Desmond could say something enigmatic like “I saw you looking at them in Walmart and thought they’d suit you. But you’ll need some time in them to understand why.”

To clarify, the way you handled the question is fine (as long as you still have a route for the story to progress). But you don’t have to explain so quickly or completely. Readers can enjoy a little uncertainty if you present it in the right way.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Sorry for the long absence and admittedly short results. Minor personal turmoil crept into my life. On the plus side, I got the chance to try diapers out myself, and they’re as great as I thought they’d be. Anyway, I won’t launch into a blog post or something, so enjoy.

[HR][/HR]
The bookstore was way too quiet. Or Sarabeth’s diaper was too loud. Or maybe it just sounded that way to her because she was conscious of even the slightest little crackle that seemed to sound with every single movement. Either way, it only made her that much more aware of the thick padding clinging to her, filling her jeans out a bit and making her butt look a bit rounder. At least her shirt was nice and baggy, hiding the plastic waistband that tended to poke out.

She wouldn’t want anyone at the store to see that she was back in diapers.

It had been terrifying even getting into the car (leaving the house was actually a five-minute ordeal), but walking amongst the crowds at the mall was an exercise in managing what felt like a near-constant anxiety attack. Desmond had assured her that no one had any idea what she was wearing, and she was finally beginning to calm down, ironically as she drank an expensive cappuccino from Starbucks. It was her second one in a couple hours, and she had already wet her diaper a few times since they’d arrived. At least it was nice not having to fight the crowds to get to a bathroom.

She meandered down the comic book aisle while Desmond spent some time browsing a rather large part of the store devoted to tabletop RPGs. Reaching back to make sure her shirt was low enough to prevent a wardrobe malfunction, she crouched and peered at a collection of comics devoted to a superhero calling herself Ms. Marvel. There were a few issues, and skimming through some pages, she found that she actually rather liked the art style, and the story seemed interesting.

“Paige, look at this one,” a voice said nearby, and Sarabeth looked over to see two younger girls she recognized from school. They’d been freshmen last year, now going into sophomore year. She thought their names were Paige Collins and Mariah Andersen. Both were standing near a display of vinyl Pop! figurines, picking them up and examining them occasionally. Paige, a bottle-blonde girl with tight low-rise jeans, bent to look at another figurine, the white whale-tail of her thong peeking out of her pants. Maria, a brunette with a ponytail piled on top of her head, adjusted her own panties through her tights, a loose shirt hanging nearly halfway over her round little behind.

Not that Sarabeth was staring.

“Oh my gosh, it’s Groot!” Paige said, snatching up the box she’s examining and holding it up to Mariah. “I’m am Groot!”

“No!” Mariah said, snatching up a Rocket Raccoon figurine. “That’s the button that’ll blow us all up!”

Paige giggled and put the figurine back, blinking over Mariah’s shoulder, and Sarabeth realized too late that she was making eye contact.

“Sarabeth?” Paige asked, making her way around Mariah and over to Sarabeth, who stood, now all too acutely aware that she was wearing a slightly-soaked diaper that crinkled as she stood. Damn it, she had to pee right now.

“Hey, Paige,” she said, smiling. “Reenacting Guardians of the Galaxy?”

Paige giggled a bit as Mariah strolled over as well. While she spoke, Sarabeth wet her diaper once more, her heart thudding in her chest as she nervously took a drink of her cappuccino.

“Well, we have to freshen up for the sequel,” Paige said. “Can’t wait. We’re actually about to go see Logan. Have you seen it yet?”

“Nah, I’m not really too into comics, and Desmond doesn’t like the X-Men all that much,” Sarabeth said, trying to keep her voice level as she peed. This was a long one. Coffee always did that to her. It also did something else, which was becoming an apparent need….

“Yeah, the movies are a little…weird,” Mariah admitted. “Logan looks good, though, and I’m a total Marvel geek, so I’m just watching it out of kinda loyalty.”

“Plus, Hugh Jackman is just a sexy grizzled old man,” Paige added with a smirk. “If they make a Last of Us movie, I want him to play Joel.”

“Oh! Hey, Paige, it’s almost noon,” Mariah said, checking her phone. “We should go if we wanna get popcorn and stuff.”

“Yeah, true,” Paige said, and Sarabeth smiled as she finished wetting her diaper, only to clench down. She couldn’t do that right in front of these two girls in their tight pants and sexy not-so-age-appropriate underwear.

Not that Sarabeth’s was any more age-appropriate, just in the opposite direction. She waved to Paige and Mariah as they left, finally relaxing and feeling her bowels give a little push, aided by the hot coffee. She took a deep breath as she felt the familiar sliding sensation, trying not to get discouraged. Desmond had told her there would be embarrassing moments and to just power through. But seeing Paige and Mariah, who were both two years younger than her, wearing such cute undies while she wore a diaper….

Taking out a little can of Axe For Her, she gave herself a quick spritz to hide the scent of her mess, taking another calming breath. No one could see, and with luck, the smell would be masked enough until she could get changed. Don’t panic. She had to just think about how nice it felt to not have to go anymore, to not even have to worry about making it. All she’d had to do was relax and let it happen. With one last little dribble from her bladder, she bent and grabbed a couple Ms. Marvel comics, intending to give Desmond every opportunity to spoil her in return for this little ordeal, before heading through the store to find him.

She was still getting used to walking in a full diaper, and though this was only her third time dealing with a mess, she managed to look mostly normal. No one looked at her for longer than she thought most would glance at a stranger, at least. Sarabeth knew she was attractive, if only in an average sort of way, so a few heads would turn in her direction. She was even more of a strange commodity today, being an averagely attractive girl holding comics, which despite the blurring lines between gender roles was still a novelty in Ohio. She had no reason to suspect that anyone knew that she was wearing a rather used diaper. She saw Desmond thumbing through a hardcover book, making her way over and reaching out as she approached him. She took one of his elbows in her hands, and he jumped before turning, smiling when he saw her.

“Hey, cutie,” he said, peering down at the comics tucked under her arm. “Kamala Khan? Nice choice.”

“Um…” she blushed and looked around shyly, stepping closer. Taking the hint, Desmond sniffed the air gently, probably getting a whiff of her perfume spray.

“C’mon, let’s pay for these and we’ll get you changed, okay?”

……

“So, what were you buying over there?” Sarabeth asked, turning a page in her comic as Desmond wiped her clean. It maybe should have been awkward, her little brother getting so intimately acquainted with her nethers, but between maintaining her modesty and letting herself be cleaned up after a blowout, the choice was pretty obvious. She simply couldn’t afford to be shy at this point. She felt the cold wipe traveling up her crack, scooping away the mess bit by bit. It was sort of nice to just lie here and read this new comic, and with the barrier between her and the embarrassment happening below her waist, it was a lot easier to deal with mentally, too.

“Oh, Paul wants to start a D and D group, and he wants me to play,” Desmond said, lifting Sarabeth under her knees and sliding the used diaper from under her before lowering her onto a fresh one. “I figured it’d be good to have my own Player’s Handbook.”

“Isn’t that game like really complicated?” Sarabeth asked, peering over the comic at him. He shrugged, coating Sarabeth’s diaper area with a layer of ointment, wiping his hands and picking up the powder canister.

“It’s a lot to wrap your head around, but it’s a lot of fun once you learn it,” he said, dusting her with the powder before pulling the diaper up.

Sarabeth was starting to get used to the feel of the thick cottony padding embracing her, but it was still a little surreal to believe that she had (at least temporarily) traded toilets for diapers. She hadn’t used a toilet in nearly four days, come to think of it. With a ripping sound, the tapes were snugged into place, and Desmond helped Sarabeth to her feet, taking her pants and crouching to hold them open so she could step into them. Sarabeth blushed a bit but shrugged and placed her hands on his shoulders, stepping into the pants so he could pull them up her legs and fasten them in place over her diaper. Desmond patted her head before gathering up the old diaper and wrapping it up with the wipes in it, tossing it into the garbage.

“Getting a little less weird?” he asked her, and she shrugged.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Wanna think about maybe going for a little longer-term commitment?” he asked, washing his hands before leading her from the bathroom. “Couple weeks?”

“Two whole weeks?” Sarabeth asked, and Desmond nodded.

“Plenty of time for you to enjoy how relaxing it can be to just…let go, you know?” he said. “I’ll help you the whole time, you’ll never have to deal with your own diapers.”

“Not so loud!” Sarabeth hissed, walking with him, feeling more than hearing her diaper crinkling around her. “Let’s just do a week, okay?”

They made their way out of the mall and into the parking lot, Sarabeth smoothing her shirt a bit to make sure that it wasn’t snagged on the waistband of her diaper. She reached into her purse and pulled out her keys, pondering the irony that Desmond had taken over as the big brother of their duo, yet Sarabeth was the one doing the driving. She settled into the driver’s seat, starting the car and glancing over at her brother, who was smiling back at her.

“Are you at least enjoying it behind all the embarrassment?” he asked. “I’d hate to find out I was just forcing it on you.”

“No, you’re not,” Sarabeth insisted. “It’s…still really embarrassing, yeah, but you were right. It’s really relaxing and nice to not have to worry about…making it. It’s like…I didn’t know it was something I was scared of until I didn’t have to be afraid anymore.”

He reached out and gripped her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Glad you’re liking it,” he said. “So, a week? Take a vacation from potty-training?”

“Sure,” Sarabeth said, blushing as she backed up and set them off toward home.

……

Once the pair were home, Sarebeth went straight for the couch, flumping onto the cushions. Desmond dropped his bag of purchases next to her as he walked by on his way to the kitchen.

“Kool-Aid?” he asked.

“Cherry!” Sarabeth called with a smile, reaching for the bag of comics, but she found herself instead drawing out Desmond’s Dungeons and Dragons book. She opened it and skimmed a few pages, humming thoughtfully.

“Hey, they have hobbits in here,” she said as she heard Desmond make his way back in, settling two glasses of Kool-Aid on coasters on the coffee table before grabbing the remote and booting up Netflix.

“Yep, they’re a real common fantasy race,” he said. “They’re usually called halflings, though. Tolkien popularized the word hobbit. I think. Don’t quote me on that.”

“Too late, quoted,” Sarabeth said, paging through the book. “So, what’s the point of this game?”

“It’s…hard to explain,” Desmond said, slouching into his seat. “There’s a Dungeon Master that decides how the story’s gonna go and kinda writes the game as the players play it. The players do something, and the DM decides how the world reacts to it, and it’s basically like a bunch of people collaborating on a story.”

“And Paul’s gonna be your Dungeon Master?” Sarabeth asked, her voice a little faint as she wet herself and felt a warm spot growing under her.

“Yeah, he’s way into fantasy stuff like that,” Desmond said with a nod. “I’m gonna play a dwarf fighter, because dwarves are the best.”

“Oh, what’s your dwarf’s name?” Sarabeth asked.

“Grod Deepcask,” Desmond said proudly, pulling a regal pose for a moment. “He’s the son of a prestigious dwarven brewer, but his true passion is justice. He’s on his way to join the royal guard in the dwarven capital of Jungenwuuld when he finds himself mixed up in a plot to destroy the world.”

“So, an average Tuesday in a fantasy story,” Sarabeth said, and Desmond snickered, nodding. “Who are the others?”

“Well, Andrew’s gonna play, too, you remember Andrew?” Desmond said.

“The one with the hideous Sim family you showed me?” Sarabeth asked. Desmond snickered with a nod.

“Yeah, the Bubbles family,” he laughed. “I forgot about them. He’s already got this idea for this little gnome character called Wigglenuts.”

“Oh, that can’t possibly be a raunchy name at all,” Sarabeth muttered, and Desmond cackled. “So, it’s just you three?”

“Well, there’s this girl from school that heard us talking about it and asked if she could get involved,” Desmond says. “She’s in the Facebook group, so she knows we’re meeting today, but I don’t know if she’ll show up. Her name’s Natasha.”

“Wait, meeting today?” Sarabeth asked. “Here? Today?”

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” Desmond asked, and Sarabeth shook her head, feeling her face heat up.

“Desmond, I can’t be around that many people like this,” she insisted, gesturing at her diaper.

“Oh, relax,” Desmond said. “You were just in a crowded mall. In fact, I seem to recall you had a bit of a blowout and walked through the entire mall to the restrooms.”

“Well, I can just stay in my room, and you can come…you know, change me when I need it, right?” Sarabeth asked, and Desmond grinned, shaking his head.

“No, I have a better idea. You’re gonna play with us.”

……

Sarabeth tried not to shake nervously, untying and retying the drawstring of her sweats once again to make sure they adequately covered her diaper. She was waiting for the sound that would signal her descent into levels of embarrassment and humiliation that would be virtually unrecoverable.

Ding…dooong.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the front door, squaring her shoulders and reaching out to take hold of the doorknob. She twisted and opened it, revealing a short, scrawny Latino boy with close-cropped hair. He wore a heavy-looking backpack and had a box tucked under his arm.

“What’s up, Sarabeth!?” Paul Alvarez said happily as she stepped back to allow him in. “I heard you’re gonna be playing, too, right on.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be a halfling,” Sarabeth told him, and he nodded.

“Hell yeah,” he said. “Let’s get upstairs and get you set up.”

Sarabeth followed him upstairs, and maybe it was just because she was listening for it, or maybe it was because she had wet it just now, but her diaper sounded even louder than normal, crinkling noisily as she mounted each step. Paul didn’t seem to hear, too busy grilling Sarabeth on character details. Where is Aria from, what does she do, what does she want to do, is she on good terms with her family, any siblings. It felt like Sarabeth was signing her halfling up for a dating site or something.

“Paaaauuuul!” Desmond sang out as Paul strode into his room. Sarabeth saw that he had been hard at work setting up a rather large card table in the middle of the floor, having haphazardly cleared out a space by tossing his gaming chair onto his bed. “Your office, sir.”

“Good, good,” Paul said in a deep voice, unrolling a mat onto the table. It covered nearly the entire top in a grid of squares. He plunked down a box on top, and Sarabeth caught a glimpse of books similar to the one Desmond had bought, though there were more, along with a massive bag of what looked like dice, though with way more sides than she had thought possible.

“So, I’ve got a few feats I want you to look at,” Paul said to Desmond. “I’m letting each player take one at level one, and if Grod takes the right ones, he’ll be a beast.”

The doorbell rang again, and Desmond looked up at Sarabeth.

“Can you get that, please?” he asked, and Sarabeth smirked, shaking her head.

“You boys have your confusing D and D talk,” she said as she turned and left the room. She paused on the landing for a half second, wondering if she could sneak back to her room and swap her diaper for a pair of panties, but she took a deep breath and continued downstairs. She needed to stick this out; Desmond was here for her. She headed for the door and pulled it open for the next guest, seeing two new arrivals waiting on their porch. One was a ginger boy with a heavily freckled face and bright green eyes, the other a scrawny blonde girl with a bright pink streak in her hair. While the boy was dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt, the girl looked fresh out of a Hot Topic circa 2004, wearing skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black hoodie a few sizes too big.

“’Sup?” she said with a smile at Sarabeth, who now wished she had gone for panties when she’d had the chance. “I’m Natasha. This is Drew. You’re Des’s sister?”

“Sarabeth,” she said. “Um, Desmond’s upstairs.”

Andrew hurried past them, apparently enough of a nerd to be nervous around girls. Natasha rolled her eyes, smiling at Sarabeth.

“Sorry, he actually didn’t say a word to me the whole way over,” she said with a snort. “I definitely caught him staring at my ass, though. Like…bro….”

“It doesn’t get any better when they get older, either,” Sarabeth told her. “They just grow up past you, and then they can be bullies.”

Natasha smirked at her. “You are pretty tiny,” she said. “You’re, what, fifteen?”

“Seventeen,” Sarabeth said, pouting a bit. “Are you gonna tell me you’re fifteen?”

“In two months,” Natasha said triumphantly, and Sarabeth sighed at how much taller the blonde already was. “Hey, c’mon, short girls are cute, too.”

“So, you’re into D and D?” Sarabeth asked, deciding to change the subject. “Or are you just being dragged along, too?”

“Paul’s been my best friend since we were in diapers,” Natasha said, and Sarabeth tried not to react to openly to the word “diapers”, though her face did heat up a bit. “He kept going on and on about how fun this game was, he’s got a really sick story written out, I could bring a lot to the party, so I’m like ‘Fuck it, let’s get this over with.’ At least I won’t be the only girl in a sea of testosterone and hormones. So, what’s your character?”

They reached Desmond’s room, where the three boys were neck-deep in some discussion about the game. Sarabeth caught the word “Demogorgon”, and Paul burst out yelling.

“I’ve seen Stranger Things, too, but I’m not throwing the Demogorgon at you guys in the first session!” he said. “That fucker will eat you alive. Literally. I think whoever wrote that thing’s bio had a vore fetish.”

“Um…” Sarabeth said, meeting eyes with Desmond who was just laughing. He smiled at Sarabeth, giving her a little thumbs-up. “I’m a halfling, I guess? Her name is Aria, and she’s the daughter of an apple farmer that wants to strike out on her own.”

“Sometimes you gotta keep it simple,” Natasha nodded. “My character is a homebrewed zombie named Bob who just got revenge on his cheating bitch of a wife Karen from beyond the grave, and now he doesn’t know what to do with his unlife.”

“…Oh,” Sarabeth said, shrugging. “Well, that’s creative. What’s his class?”

“He’s a warlock, and his patron is some kind of ancient undead being beyond life and death,” Natasha said with a shrug. “Paul bought a new Swords of the Coast book that added some stuff. What about you?”

“Aria’s a wizard,” Sarabeth said, shifting around in her seat a bit as she felt a pressure on her bladder, causing her voice to falter a bit as she peed. “She, um…wants to be a summoner so she can have friends from other realms.”

“Oh, is that her?” Natasha asked, pointing to the stack of papers in front of Sarabeth’s spot. Her character sheets had been appropriated by Desmond to show to Paul, who was checking it to make sure everything was in order. This left Sarabeth’s most recent sketch of Aria flanked by her two minions visible. “Wow, you’re a good artist.”

“Thanks,” Sarabeth said with a sheepish smile, shy as always about receiving compliments on her artwork. “I’m not the best, but I just do it for fun.”

“Did you take any classes?” Natasha asked her, and she shook her head.

“Mostly self-taught,” she said. “I looked up some online tutorials on deviantART.”

“Oh my God, I had a page there for like two weeks, but they’re such a bunch of aging pretentious fetish artists,” Natasha cackled, shaking her head. “I just put my stuff up on Tumblr and just stick to a few circles.”

“What do you do?” Sarabeth asked, and Natasha reached into the bag she had brought along, emerging with a worn but well-cared-for camera, which she held up and snapped a candid of Sarabeth.

“I take pictures,” she explained needlessly. “Self-taught, like you, but I’m figuring it out. I’m even on the school newspaper. Or I was. I’ll have to see if I can stay on in high school.”

“I know the girl that’s gonna be editor-in-chief next year,” Sarabeth said. “I could put in a good word for you.”

“Yeah?” Natasha asked with a sweet smile. “That would be pretty awesome. Friends with connections.”

“Alright,” Paul said loudly, plunking into his seat. “This inaugural session of Legends of Arthoria is now in…session. I just used the word session twice. Everyone ready?”

He looked around, and they all nodded, Sarabeth doing a quick shift to check the state of her diaper as covertly as she could, but her last two wettings had been light. As long as she didn’t make a mess, she should be fine, and that only became a concern if –

“Drink?” Natasha asked, passing her a bottle of Dr. Pepper. “I picked some up on the way over. Des said that’s your fave?”

Ugh. Hopefully this wasn’t going to end in disaster.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Can’t go wrong with a D&D session, every story should have one of these.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

I enjoyed the comic scene and its pointing out interesting ironies (age inappropriate underwear, the ‘little sister’ driving). You sometimes pile on a few too many pop culture references, creating a “Greetings, Fellow Kids” vibe. For example, the second part of:

“Plus, Hugh Jackman is just a sexy grizzled old man,” Paige added with a smirk. “Like Joel in the Last of Us.”.

Good setup for the following chapter.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Nice going on this latest update. As eager as we are for an update, we understand personal life comes first.

I’m starting to wonder if there’s a bit more interest in diapers on Desmond’s part than he’s let on. Either way, I tend to like stories where someone ends up in diapers and is treated decently or nicely.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Thank you for your advice. I changed that line to make it seem more conversational and less ham-handed. Hopefully it flows better.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

The new line works better in the context of the conversation, good editing I’d say.

1 Like

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

This is the first time in recorded history that a story with a game of Dungeons and Dragons in it has held onto my attention. I don’t hate the game, I just don’t care enough about it to have an opinion of it, positive or negative.

I do hope that this story doesn’t die. This was the story that got me interested in reading literary works again a month or so back, so it’d be a shame to see it get dropped…

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Just a quick note that I have not forgotten this story. The muse left for a short while, but it’s back. You guys should get a new chapter in the coming days.

Re: The Ballad of Miss Paxton

Posting this one raw and unchecked because I can’t bring myself to proofread at the moment. I will most definitely come back through in a day or so and fix it up, but until then, you guys are my editing team.
[HR][/HR]
The trees were dark, foreboding, and most disconcertingly, silent. Aria knew that a forest, especially one so close to a swamp, should be a riot of noises this late at night. But there wasn’t a sound around the halfling, who kept the darkness at bay with a ball of fire hovering over her palm.

“Grod?” she called softly. “Bob?”

There was no response.

“Great,” she muttered and kept walking before a booming voice startled her enough to cause her to shriek.

“Does the young lady care nothing for Wigglenuts!?”

Aria rounded on the source of a voice, a flamboyantly-dressed gnome with a grin that was just a little too big for his tiny face. He had his hands on his hips, clearly trying for an impressive pose but just looking like he was mid-pelvic-thrust.

“I was hoping you’d just stay lost,” Aria grumbled, turning and trudging through the fallen leaves. This forest boasted some tall trees, the foliage not starting until well above their heads, so it was simply a sea of trunks that seemed to loom out of nowhere in the darkness. She slowed for a moment when she heard a soft rustling in the distance. “Do you hear that?”

……

“Andrew, roll a Perception check,” Paul said, and Andrew snatched up a die, tossing it at the table. He glanced at it and smirked.

“Four,” he pronounced.

“You hear your footsteps,” Paul told him with a matching smile. “You’re not even sure if they’re yours.”

“Something is following us!” Andrew said grandiosely.

“Hush!” Sarabeth said, standing and leaning over the table to move her character’s figurine through forest drawn on the mat that Paul had unrolled. She felt her diaper sag a bit, the padding soaked with a few Dr. Peppers’ worth of pee, and Desmond met eyes with her.

“Hey, how about a bathroom break?” he said. “And I can order some pizza.”

“Dude, finally,” Natasha said, hopping up. “I don’t know how you do it, Sarabeth. I’ve gotta piss.”

“Race you!” Paul challenged her, bounding to his feet and hurrying after a shrieking Natasha. Andrew stood and exited the room at a more sedate pace, leaving Desmond and Sarabeth alone in his room. He grinned at her.

“See, you made it,” he said softly. “Let’s get to your room and change you.”

Sarabeth pouted at him talking about it so openly, but she stood, feeling the waistband of the diaper pull just a bit, straining against how loaded it was. They’d been at it for a couple hours, and her padding was paying the price. Desmond led her into the hall and down to her own room, shutting the door and locking it.

“Um…I was thinking after you cleaned me up, I could just go back to my panties for the rest of the night?” she asked, and Desmond sighed with a roll of his eyes.

“Alright, fine,” he said. “Go get some out.”

Sighing in relief, Sarabeth made her way over to her dresser, opening up her panty drawer—to reveal an assortment of diapers. Desmond had unpacked as many of her diapers as he could and packed them into her underwear drawer, presumably while she was napping downstairs. She stared at them for a long moment, pouting and heaving a little sigh.

“Problem?” Desmond asked with a knowing tone, and Sarabeth rolled her eyes, taking a diaper out and making her way back over to him. He took it and gestured at the bed for her to lie down on the diaper changing mat he’d unrolled. “Hey, don’t pout. This is part of the reality of wearing them.”

“But I don’t wear them,” Sarabeth insisted, climbing up and dropping onto her back. Desmond immediately set to work sliding her sweats down to her ankles and spreading her knees to undo the tapes. “I’m just trying them out.”

“Yeah, but you’re trying out the reality of wearing them,” he said as he wiped her up. “C’mon, no one’s even noticed.”

“But it’s…embarrassing, still,” Sarabeth pouted, and Desmond chuckled softly, unfolding a new diaper and scooping her up under her knees to lift her and slide it into place.

“The only way it’ll stop being embarrassing is if you keep at it and get used to it,” he said. “Lots of people wear diapers at your age and even as adults. Some of them need them, some just like them. It makes no difference.”

“Well I don’t need them,” Sarabeth grumbled as Desmond smeared some ointment onto her. He looked pointedly at her, quirking an eyebrow curiously. “I just…like them. I really do. And I just can’t get past that little voice that says it’s…weird.”

He gave her an understanding smile as he dusted her with some powder and folded the diaper up, taping it snugly, and Sarabeth was wrapped up nice and tight again. She couldn’t deny the amazingly safe feeling diapers afforded her. She could relax, and if anything even snuck out, it would be absorbed harmlessly into the padding. The rub to that was that no seventeen-year-old girl in full possession of her faculties should have to worry about that sort of thing. She stood and pulled her sweats up, glancing toward her dresser, where more diapers lurked in her underwear drawer, like they belonged there. But would it be so wrong to pretend that they did?

“I think you’re overthinking it,” Desmond finally told her. “You like them, just wear them. If anyone notices, we can just tell them you need them.”

“But I don’t,” Sarabeth said again, and Desmond sighed, smiling at her.

“Let’s just get back to the game, hm?” he said, rolling up her old diaper and tying it into a plastic bag before tossing it into the large trash bucket he had added to her room just for her spent ones. “I think Paul’s about to drop a monster on you and Wigglenuts.”

“Oh my gosh,” Sarabeth muttered, shaking her head. “His character is completely ridiculous.”

“Hey, he got us into Faeroden without having to pay a toll,” Desmond told her as he led her from the room. “Are you having fun, though? You seem to be getting into character no trouble.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot to figure out, but it’s fun,” Sarabeth said, following him downstairs. She could hear Paul and Natasha chatting on their way to the kitchen, and they passed by the stairway, Natasha wiggling her fingers in a wave to Sarabeth.

“Okay, pineapple on pizza,” Natasha said. “Gross or not?”

“I’m…not a fan,” Sarabeth said, and Natasha grinned triumphantly, turning to point at Paul.

“Ha!” she said, reaching over to wrap an arm around Sarabeth and pull her in. “Sarabeth agrees with me. I win.”

“Fine, I’ll just get a small for myself!” Paul said with a dramatic flail of his arms, muttering as he plodded back upstairs. “People don’t appreciate fine cuisine anymore.”

“We’ve been playing D and D for a few hours, and that was the most intense debate I’ve seen all day,” Desmond said flatly, and Natasha cackled.

……

“Someone’s following us!” Wigglenuts shouted as he spun in a wide circle, attempting to spot their pursuer. Aria shushed him, yanking her sword from its scabbard and reading it in her off-hand while a dancing ball of flames flared up in her right. For a moment, the forest was silent again except for the soft rush of the fire feeding off of Aria’s magical energies.

Then an arrow whizzed right by her face, and a clattering of bones sounded.

“Skeleton!” Aria said, whipping her hand to send a ball of fire at the creature as it shambled from behind a tree and nocked another arrow. The fireball connected, and boney beast staggered back. Aria was just readying another ball of flame when she saw two more of the undead monsters fade into view nearby. “Get the other two!”

“You’ve been…thunderstruck!” Wigglenuts shouted, holding a hand out, and a burst of sound sent the other two skeletons shambling in opposite directions. The skeleton firing on Aria released another arrow, but it lodged in her armor, only jabbing half an inch into her arm. She pelted it with another fireball, and it burst into a pile of bones and meal. Turning, she saw Wigglenuts effortlessly dodge two more arrows from the other skeletons, casting that same thunder spell and crushing them to a pile of broken bones.

“Wonderful job, young lady!” Wigglenuts said, prancing over. “We’ve done it!”

“Aria!” a hoarse voice shouted, and Aria turned toward it with a smile.

“Bob, thank goodness!” she said, sighing with relief as the undead man made his way over. She canted her head to the side, pointing to an arrow protruding from his shoulder. “Um….”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, reaching back and yanking it out. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine,” Aria said with a roll of her eyes. “Wigglenuts has saved the day again. Where’s Grod?”

“I’ma comin’,” Grod said in his thick dwarven accent. “Fer a zombie, yer hard teh keep up with.”

“Well, at least we all got out of that palace okay,” Aria said, smiling at her dwarven pal. “So…now what?”

“We need to get to Valheim and warn King Redgar about the dark elves,” Bob said. “Where’s the wagon?”

“Um…” Aria trailed off as they all looked around.

……

“Did no one tie the mule down?” Natasha asked, looking around at the group, and they all shrugged. “Fucking great.”

“Alright, hold on,” Paul said from behind his DM screen, and they heard the telltale clatter of dice being rolled. “Hm…okay, the mule has wandered off, but you might still be able to find it. Roll a perception check if you wanna look.”

Sarabeth reached for her dice, her hand hovering briefly over the collection before Desmond pointed at the one she now remembered was called a d20, because it had twenty sides. She picked it up and tossed it at the table, watching it clatter right off the edge.

“Oh, great,” she muttered, leaning over in her seat and hearing her diaper crinkle a bit as she reached for the die. She felt her shirt ride up a bit and reached up to pull it down, finding it unnecessary as another hand was already tugging her clothes back into place. She almost bumped the table in her haste to sit up, blushing when she saw Natasha smiling at her. The blonde girl winked and placed a finger to her lips.

“What’d you roll?” she asked. Natasha blinked and looked up at Paul.

“Um…eighteen,” she said. “My modifier’s two, so twenty.”

……

“There it is!” Aria said, pointing toward the east, where the cart was trundling along, rolling behind the mule as it searched the barren landscape for the occasional tuft of grass. She rushed ahead, Grod hot on her heels. Bob ambled along at a more sedate pace, and Wigglenuts…ate a snack. Apparently, he wasn’t keen on running. Bob was the best with animals, so he strode up and calmly led the mule back toward the rest of the party.

“Thing’s strong but dumb as a box of rocks,” Bob muttered, climbing into the driver’s seat of the wagon. “Head ‘em up, move ‘em out.”

“All aboard,” Aria said, climbing into the wagon, and Grod bodily tossed Wigglenuts in before joining them. “Let’s move.”

“Alright, so we’re going to Valheim?” Bob asked, the cart taking off in a slow roll. “Warn the king about the dark elves?”

“They’re planning some kind of attack,” Aria said. “Lots of people could die if we don’t. We should make sure we’re not tailed, though.”

“Aye, I’ll keep an eye out,” Grod said, shuffling over to the back of the wagon. “You lot get some rest.”

……

“So, Grod’s taking first watch?” Paul asked. “And you two are gonna rest?”

“Yeah,” Sarabeth said, shifting around and relaxing to wet her diaper. “Um…do I roll the thing to get my health back?”

“Yeah, you roll two of them now, since you leveled up,” Paul said. Sarabeth reached for two of her six-sided dice and tossed them. “Alright, you get ten HP back, not bad.”

“I’m back to full health, then,” Sarabeth said. Between her legs, the diaper soaked up the latest emptying of her bladder, and she sighed at how…wonderful it felt; there was no holding it, no realizing that she would eventually have to get up and go to the bathroom, just relaxation and letting go. “Is there a way to sleep, like…alertly? Can I wake up at the first sound?”

“It wouldn’t be a very restful sleep,” Paul cautioned her. “I could probably dock you some health restoration.”

“Nah, sleep soundly,” Desmond said, grinning at her. “Grod’ll wake you up if he sees anything, don’t worry.”

Don’t worry. Whenever Desmond said that to her, she felt he really, truly meant it. If it was something as silly as a tabletop RPG or something as life-altering as giving up her potty-training and surrendering to diapers for a while, Desmond would help her.

“Alright,” she said. “I guess I don’t have to worry.”

……

That night, after everyone had left, Sarabeth sat on Desmond’s bed while he was playing one of his games (he had quickly grown bored of his new one, citing irreconcilable differences with the combat mechanics), her sketchbook open over her lap. The subjects of this evening’s drawing were none other than Bob the Zombie and Aria staring down a pair of overzealous royal guards outside the Valheim royal palace. Aria wasn’t really the staring-down type, but she wasn’t too much shorter than a dwarf, so it had been a rare treat.

“Did you have fun today?” Desmond asked, and Sarabeth nodded, smiling up at him. She frowned at one memory, though.

“I think Natasha saw my diaper, though,” she said. Desmond pursed his lips thoughtfully, shrugging and leaning back in his seat.

“Well, she didn’t say anything, so I think you’ll be alright,” he said. “She probably didn’t even know what she was looking at, just thought it was like a weird lace pattern or something.”

“I dunno, it seemed like she knew it was…well, something not really normal for a girl my age,” Sarabeth said. “Do you think she would tell anyone?”

“Nah,” Desmond said immediately, shaking his head. “Natasha’s been on the wrong end of a lot of rumors. She’s not the type to start one herself.”

“Well, that’s…a relief,” Sarabeth said, blushing as she felt the familiar push on her bowels. She shifted onto her knees, lifting her butt and taking a deep breath. Her insides flexed, and soon, her diaper was ballooning under her as she filled it with a messy load. She prepared herself to fight back the usual wave of shame, but this time, it was just a mild bit of embarrassment. It was normal for her to do this. She needed diapers. That was what she was telling herself, right? And so, when she looked up and saw Desmond looking at her knowingly, she just stuck her tongue out.

“Did someone make a stinky?” her brother asked, and she huffed.

“Maybe,” she pouted. Desmond quirked an eyebrow.

“Just ‘maybe’?” he asked. “Well, I guess I could check later – “

“Noooo,” Sarabeth whined. “I did, I…made a…a stinky.”

Desmond smiled as he made his way over, tapping her on the nose. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about using your diapers, okay?” he said. “You need them, right?”

Sarabeth blushed a bit as she shifted to lie on her back.

“Yeah,” she said in a timid whisper as Desmond undid the tapes on her diaper. “I…I need them.”

The diaper fell open, and Desmond nodded. “You do,” he said. “Look at this mess.”

He set to wiping her, and Sarabeth reached for her phone, opening up Facebook and seeing a friend request from Natasha herself. She smiled and quickly accepted it, tapping her icon and scrolling down her page. Natasha had posted a slew of pictures from their session earlier. Sarabeth hadn’t even seen her taking them, but she was in a few, usually talking to someone else or just staring thoughtfully at her character sheet. She blushed as she spotted one picture, remembering the way she’d been holding her drink glass and staring out the window as she had wet her diaper.

“Hey, Desmond?” Sarabeth asked after a moment, peering up at him. He turned his gaze from his work up to Sarabeth, his hands still deftly wiping away the mess. “Um…do you like…girls wearing diapers? Is that like a…kink or a fetish or something?”

Desmond paused briefly before stuffing a used wipe into Sarabeth’s diaper and drawing another out, swiping it along her skin. His expression was thoughtful as he bunched up the old diaper and unfolded a new one to slide it under Sarabeth’s butt.

“It’s…not so much a kink or something like that,” he said. “I just…this is gonna sound a little messed up, I think.”

“Hey, talk to me,” Sarabeth said with a little pout, wiggling as he smeared a fresh layer of ointment on her. A quick coating of powder came next, and with a soft crinkle, she was encased in soft, comfy padding. She sat up and peered up at Desmond, who sighed and tied the old diaper up in a plastic bag and dumped it into the diaper pail he’d gotten.

“I like the idea of a girl being able to just let go and be safe,” he said. “Of…giving up control, basically. It’s kind of…the trust of the whole thing, and the sort of innocence of it all. You’re sort of…relying on me, and I wanna take care of you, and I want you to know I’ll take care of you.”

Sarabeth giggled softly at him. “Are you gonna put Natasha in diapers, too?” she asked teasingly, and Desmond grinned at her.

“She could probably use the relaxation,” he said, shrugging and heading back over to plunk into his gaming chair. “Anyway, you gonna stick around or go to your room? Either way, I’m gonna be gaming it for a while, so if you need a change, just ask.”

“I’ll stay and draw for a bit,” Sarabeth said with a smile at him, looking down at her diaper. “Oh, we’re onto the Marvel ones?”

“Yeah, we need to head up to Walmart tomorrow and get you more, though,” Desmond told her. “We could stock up, set you up for about a month or so.”

Sarabeth blushed but shrugged. “If you wanna,” she said. “I could…see myself going that long, I guess.”

“Don’t bite off more than you’re ready for,” Desmond cautioned her. “But…yeah, I could see that, too.”

Sarabeth took a deep breath, trembling a bit when she thought about such a long stay in diapers, but at the same time, she wasn’t so much afraid as…apprehensive. Could this really be a thing she took on long-term?

Her phone buzzed in her pants pocket, and she reached over to dig in them (she had dispensed of them upon entering Desmond’s room, so he could have better access to her diaper) and pull the it out. She had a text from Natasha. She’d given the other girl her number after the session, wanting to keep in touch.

hey girl. sleeping?

Sarabeth smiled and texted her back.

Nah, I’m a night owl. What’s up?

Two minutes later, she got another text, gasping at what she saw.

just wondering something and stop me if i’m being like way inappropriate. can i borrow one of ur diapers for the next session?

Well…this would be interesting.