69.)

I didn't know what to do next. We did what we were supposed to do, and I didn't have any other questions. I thought of a speech about like... the class seeing her wet herself, how she was just like the rest of the students, how being a good girl meant giving into all the humiliating things I demanded of her. But I couldn't say any of them. I swallowed to clear my throat. It felt so dry, and my face felt so hot.

"So... that was good...?" I tried to add an inflection. I tried to make it sound more ordinary. But fuck. I pulled at my fingers behind my back.

"Yes. Oh my god, yes. I want to… I feel so… god, my head's a mess. It's all fuzz up in here," she motioned to her temple, her cheeks flushed. "All I could think about, all I can think about, is how magnificent you are. How I wanna be your good girl, how I wanna impress you, have your eyes on me, oh my god, Amy, you were amazing."

"Mmhmm.." I faked a smile. I wasn't doing well. I don't know when all my thoughts turned in on me. Everything was so extraordinary and tingly, and then that tingling turned into numbness and the butterflies turned sharp and angry. I didn't want to make this moment about me. I didn't want to think about any of that. It was just a scene. A game! It was for fun. But it was just like that first time. All I could think about was Blossom and…

Blossom noticed it before Amy said anything; she noticed the forced smile, the slightly pained look, and the fact that Amy had her hands behind her back. She stood up, marveled in the sensation of the diaper - now a little heavier - and approached Amy with gentle steps. She put her hands on the girl's shoulders, and ran her fingertips down her arms, over her elbows, and then gently pulled her hands apart and back in front of her so that Blossom could hold them safely.

"Amanda. You did fantastic. I can see that you're anxious right now, and it's okay to be; you're not in any trouble at all." This speech may have been rehearsed. "I'm here. You're here. It's okay."

"I know... I know." I would have argued with her, said that I was fine. But my hands were shaking and I wasn't breathing right. I swallowed hard again and nodded my head. Her hands in mine didn't feel hot. They felt cold, like flipping the pillow over when you're half-asleep.

Blossom smiled and bit her lip; if she had use of her hands, she might have touched one to Amy's cheek, but right now those appendages had a more important calling. So she used her eyes, she used her words, and she did her best.

"Do you wanna go to the sofa with me? I can sit down and you can put your head on my lap? I can still hold your hands if you need me to, or I can play with your hair."

I shook my head. Each one of those actions sounded bad. Each one felt like they would make me feel a thousand times more guilty and a thousand times better at the same time. Maybe that was exponential. What was a thousand to the thousandth power? I needed to go back to Academy A math class. Fuck.

"I'm okay," I said instinctively, then I regretted it. I didn't want to say that. I wasn't trying to hide or make it worse. I was trying to listen to what Blossom and Lin said, but fuck it was just so automatic.

"No you're not, cupcake. And it's okay to not be okay. You're doing great right now: you're letting me close to you, you're letting me in, you're letting me help. And I'm so grateful to you."

I don't know what happened next. I was lying on the couch and Blossom was sitting next to me, her hand in mine. Her other hand played lightly with my hair, just the ends. If I thought hard about it, I might have remembered Blossom leading me here, but my thoughts were so loud in my head.

"I'm okay," I said again, but this time it wasn't instinct. I meant to say "I'm feeling a little better", but it came out as "I'm okay" instead. Habit. I shook my head in disgust. Damnit.

"Mmhmm, you're okay. And soon, you'll be even better than okay. And eventually, you'll feel like yourself. Right now we're not in any hurry, cupcake. There's no pressure, no expectation, no need to feel anything negative. And anything you do feel, you tell me. You can't always fight off your demons, but I might be able to give you a helping hand."

"I'm ruining the moment," I muttered. And I didn't even know why. Why now? Why this? I was supposed to be babying her! I made her wet herself for God's sake!

"You're absolutely not," Blossom reassured her. "You gave me an amazing, incredible moment that I'll remember for the rest of my life, and we both know it won't be the last. And right now you need some aftercare, and I'm more than happy to give you that."

I laughed, just a chuckle, because everything she said sounded so fucking stupid. Because I gave her something nice just to take it away. Because she was the one who wet her diaper in front of me. Because I didn't deserve any of this: she did.

"You should be the one getting aftercare," I sighed.

"And if I needed it, you'd be giving it. If I cried while I wet my diaper, if I fell apart, you'd sit me on the sofa and you'd feed me apple pie and you'd take care of me. But it's not just the Littles that need aftercare, okay? Sometimes the ones in charge do too. Right now, you do. I'm really proud of you for letting me give it to you. I hope I'm doing okay?"

"You're doing fine," I sighed, closing my eyes. My heart was racing as fast as my thoughts, but I didn't feel like it was out of control. It felt like it did when Blossom took my hand. Her hand, my hand. Our fingers weren't interlocked, like a couple. She was holding me around the palm, like a child in mittens. She was so concrete, so grounding.

There were a few truths to Blossom's life, and not least was the fact that she seldom said no to trying out new things. It meant that she had a lot of experience, and it meant that she sometimes chased that feeling of falling that came with stepping into the unknown. But here, with Amy, hand-in-hand, having just crossed such an important threshold? She didn't feel like she was falling - she felt like she was flying.

"Was that your first time making a former high-school bully who used to make your life hell wet her diaper in a role play scene based off one of your world-class novels?"

"You think that was my first time doing that?" I joked, trying to bring a sense of levity to the situation. Why? To prove I was okay. Even if I wasn't, I felt like it was my job to prove I was...

"More importantly," I deflected, "how was it?" Is it? I really wish I timed this panic attack better. What if she thought about this every time she wet her diapers from now on? That was the opposite of positive reinforcement. I'd never get her diaper dependent at this rate...

"Really fucking hot, cupcake. Like being inside your stories, like being inside your head. It was like getting to experience real and actual magic like the type they tell you doesn't exist when you turn twelve and the adults in your life decide for you that it's time for you to see reality as it is. That kind of magic, that's how it was."

"I think my first time, I had a panic attack," I reminisced. "I thought I leaked. I ran through everything in my head, like... when could I do my laundry? How do you scrub carpet? But I didn't leak, so..." I was starting to feel a little better, but exhaustion started to fill the empty space left by the anxiety.

"Well, on my first time you had a panic attack too, and I hope I helped you feel a bit better about it? Like, also, omg," Blossom spelled out oh—em—gee "I thought for sure that I was going to leak too, I flooded this thing."

I laughed a little. This one was more genuine. Maybe that was just a universal experience, worrying you were going to leak the first time. Maybe I could use that in a future story or something.

"You sure this is okay?" I asked, a little tentatively. I wanted to believe her, but my brain was so persistent. I needed an ounce of reassurance, even though I knew she would say yes even if it wasn't okay. I could never be completely sure she was telling me the truth, and my mind was louder than the decibels my ears could pick up.

"I'm sure that it is okay," Blossom answered, without a pause, without hesitation, "and I'm not sure it would have been if it hadn't been with you, Amy."

"Okay," I said quietly. My eyes were still closed. I didn't want to open them because I didn't want to see Blossom. She would smile, and it would put all my scary thoughts in a little box in the back of my mind. No, I'd rather let them rage around until they were all tired out. Then maybe they wouldn't spring out later, when I was lying alone in my bed. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

Blossom had her lips pursed, not quite in a smile. She was in her head, assessing her spheres and the pros and cons and the trust she was about to offer. And when the formula reduced down to its lowest values, she finally decided to go ahead with her proposal.

"Do you wanna… take a picture of me? To remember this by? Maybe I could be your muse~"

Several people had already filmed her having sex or sexual escapades without asking her permission, so someone actually doing so with consent seemed almost novel.

It was a weird offer, but I think it was a little symbolic. She wanted me to trust her. She wanted me to have a weapon if anything ever went wrong. But honestly, the offer was more than enough. And if I had a picture of Blossom Brixley in a wet diaper on my phone? Well, I don't see how that would help my productivity at all.

"Thanks but... I'll remember it. Don't worry." I faked a smile. I was starting to wonder if my eyes were closed on purpose or if I was really that tired. My heart was slowing down and I felt like I could breathe again. I didn't even cry.

"You know, cupcake, you might be one of the sweetest girls I've ever met." Blossom held Amy's hand all the while. "How are you feeling, cupcake? You can be honest, but you don't have to be."

"I'm okay..." This time it wasn't instinct. I thought about it first. I was okay. I was going to be okay, and I was already feeling better. So I took a deep breath and opened my heavy eyes. Blossom looked radiant in the halo of the living room ceiling lights. "How 'bout that pie?" I asked.

"You're so cute when you're domestic, cupcake~" Blossom laughed brightly. She got to her feet, squirmed a little as the unfamiliar and wet diaper settled into place, and then helped Amy to her feet.

We ate pie. It was pretty good, but I only had a bite or two. After anxiety like that, I was never really hungry; I just wanted to dodge out of the conversation, and I knew Blossom had too much of a sweet tooth to pass up the offer. So I sat on the sofa with my plate on my lap and watched her eat.

"So, should I go change?" Blossom asked, on her second-to-last bite of pie.

"Um. I guess that's personal preference?" Some boys on Twitter stayed in their diapers for what seemed like days. "I usually change in an hour or so, but my Attends don't last much longer than that." And I hadn't wet a Megamax yet.

"Hmm, well, let's play it by ear then. I feel like it might be a waste to change it so quick? Like what if I need to pee again?" Blossom savored a bite of pie, her last one, and pointed with her fork at nothing in particular. "Although I bet it would leak if I peed again. Do you think that people run experiments with this stuff?"

"Probably," I said, playing with my fork so it looked like I was still eating. "I hear good things about Megamaxes though."

"Have you ever leaked?" Blossom asked.

"Umm... once, because I was lying on my side. I wasn't very good at tapes back then either, so I'm sure it was my fault." Then again, Attends had nothing on Megamaxes.

"Huh. What's it feel like?"

Now that was a question!

"I think it's probably what an accident feels like when you aren't in a diaper?" I ventured. "Confused, scared, eager to fix it... it's like, wetting yourself on accident isn't the same as doing it on purpose. Leaking is the same way."

Blossom nodded her head thoughtfully.

"I see it in a lot of stories, like, when the CG wants to punish the little so they orchestrate it so they leak? Usually it's that, or they make them poop themselves. Both seem pretty effective, although my brain is always like 'okay, cool, hot, but aftercare where?' when that happens."

"Yeah, I don't think there are many stories out there that talk about caregiving from a very realistic perspective. But I don't blame them either; writing forced baby stuff is way more fun."

"True," Blossom said, putting her plate down on the coffee table.

It wasn't the most ordinary Thanksgiving, that was for sure. McDonald's for dinner, a homemade apple pie, and a scene where a grown woman wet her diaper in front of a classroom. But... well, it could have been a lot worse.

Blossom changed after a while. She said it felt weird, which was fair. That was the same reason I changed after an hour or so too. We watched a bit of TV before bed. She took a white diaper out of my room. I thought she might want to sleep together again, but she didn't even offer it. I was a little disappointed, but a lot thankful. After today, I just wasn't sure that I could handle it.

I thought it would take me a while to fall asleep, but it came rather quickly. Diapers always helped. I tried on one of the white ones - size medium - and found them to fit me way better than the larges. They were tight around my thighs and I had to move the tapes up to give myself some room, but they looked a lot better in the bedroom mirror.

I only slept five or six hours, but that was more than enough for me. When I was sure I couldn't fall back asleep, I pulled out my laptop and started writing. Every so often, between sentences, I would squeeze my legs together and a light crinkle would emanate from under the blanket. It helped me stay in Wendy's headspace, as a little diaper-dependent adventurer.