101.)

It was so easy to burn through episodes of Bluey, like tinder for time. We were most of the way through an extremely profound episode - sometimes this show just does that? - when I said:

"Do you think kink stuff is supposed to work like that?"

"Hm?"

"Whenever the kids are playing and someone does something wrong, they get corrected out-of-scene. Like just now, when Bluey told her mom that she was supposed to give bad news, not good news."

It went something like this:

Chilli: Good news!

Bluey, in a quieter voice: No, it's supposed to be bad news.

Chilli: You sure?

Bluey, still quietly: Yes, I'm sure.

Chilli, downtrodden: I'm sorry, but it's bad news...

Bluey: Oh no...

They did that a lot: corrected each others' play. Not just the kids with parents, but the kids with other kids too. It was almost every episode.

"Like little Producer-Asides? I think that's an important part of consent in scenes. Like if I were spanking someone, I'd whisper in their ear midway through, like oh hey are you doing okay?"

Blossom thought about it for a moment, reflecting on the topic before adding a more situation-appropriate example.

"Like if I were like 'Do you need to go potty, sweetie?' and you were like 'No!' then I could just whisper and be like 'You totally do, I have a great idea for this' and then you could adjust and be like 'Y-yeah…' or something like that?"

"I figure that would take us out of the moment, right? But it never seems to do that in Bluey..." Maybe it was because they had that good childlike imagination. I had a pretty good imagination, but I wasn't great at getting into scenes in the first place.

"Also," I added, "everyone always seems to agree... what if people disagree with the changes?"

"Her mom didn't agree right away in that episode," Blossom countered. "And remember that one where they were playing in the woods? They argued about who was going to play who the whole episode."

"True..." Though the scene prep took more time than the scene itself. It seemed like a waste.

"I don't have a lot of experience with this Little stuff but I do have a lot of experience in doing kink play in other areas, like BDSM, spanking, roleplay, general paraphilic attachment, et cetera et cetera. And it's always worthwhile to do regular check-ins and do scene planning."

"Sure, but in Bluey it's even a little more involved. It's editing the scene in the middle of it; not just checking in or pre-planning." I couldn't believe I was using a children's cartoon to inform my kink play...

"You're worried it would take us out of the moment, right? And it does, but I don't think it's in a bad way. It's kind of like calling a yellow; it's a chance to just correct things, make sure we're on the same page, and then go back into it. Because kink rarely plays out like in stories, but the way you remember it does. You never remember the asides, you just remember the experience."

That was true. I didn't think about all the times I messed up that first Academy K roleplay we did together - and there were a lot of times I messed up! - but rather the overall experience. Did she check in with me? Did we pause for something? I couldn't even remember.

"Worth a shot, I guess," I shrugged.

"Hey, you need more juice?" Blossom asked.

"Uh... sure." That was the third time she'd asked me in twenty minutes. She took my cup and got up. I watched her for a moment, then went back to the TV.

Blossom took a little longer to come back to the couch this time, and when she did, her cheeks were pink. She didn't make eye contact when she passed me the sippy cup. Had she spiked it or something?

I drank the sippy cup, then I started to feel sleepy. I blearily stumbled to my feet, but my knees felt weak. I slipped to the carpet and I felt the heat pool inside my diaper, tight against my crotch. I looked up through dizziness and half-closed eyes at Blossom who was towering over me with a smile. She said something about... something about finally getting everything she wanted. A pliable, submissive little baby girl. I would live out the rest of my life in her care. No matter how humiliated I was, there was nothing I could do now.

Alas, Blossom didn't spike my drink. You know, because she's not a total fucking monster. I sipped the apple juice and wiggled, rubbing my thighs together just a bit and squeezing the diaper between them. My cheeks were pink too.

"This is really lovely~"

Blossom's voice sounded a little bit quieter, a little more preoccupied, a little less focused. But no less serene. She thought about a lot of things, but none of them really mattered. They were just things. Like how time both seemed to go faster, and much slower, when she was spending time with Amy. Like how the onesie felt, as it pulled her wet diaper against her skin like a constant reminder. Like how she wished, for a moment, that she didn't need her circles because she really liked this girl.

"Hey, cupcake? You're a baby~"

"Rude," I said back.

We made it through another few episodes before the night got the better of us. Blossom was half-asleep on the sofa and I was chewing on the lid of the empty sippy cup. Finally, Blossom did what was necessary.

"We should get to bed," Blossom muttered, sitting herself up and rubbing her eyes.

"Mm..." I didn't want to, but the Littleness in me was fading into exhaustion. I wondered if that was how kids felt when they needed a nap, like all the energy was leaking out their fingers and toes. I didn't want to sleep, but I didn't want to stay up either. It was a mess.

"Come on, we can cuddle together; you wanna be my little spoon, don't you? My little plushie cupcake, for cuddling up to?"

Blossom had a cheeky streak to her tone, and a big smile to match. This wasn't cruel, bully, awful Blossom. This was fun and playful and a bit childish; a side few ever got to see.

I rolled my eyes, but Blossom had turned the TV off and the downstairs was dimly lit. She probably couldn't see.

We both got up and went over to the stairs, but I paused at the bottom. I bit my lip in the dark and looked up at her, five stairs ahead.

"Go ahead," I said quietly. "I'll be right there."

"And what does a little diapered baby girl need to do in private before sleeping? We can brush teeth and wash faces together, silly~"

I felt heat fill up my cheeks. She was so stupidly cute in her onesie, even in the dark. The frilly little sleeves were silhouetted by the light in the upstairs hallway.

"I just have to check something," I said, as vaguely as humanly possible. "I promise, I'll be right there."

"Alright! I'll be changing my diaper in the bedroom, then; I don't know how diaper rashes work, but I probably don't wanna risk it."

Blossom leaned over and kissed Amy on the forehead, and then continued on to the bedroom.

Changing? Wait, was she wet? I mean, we had been in our diapers for most of the day, and I really had to go, but I didn't realize...

Blossom was up the stairs before I thought of anything to say. She said she was going to change. Was she going to change into a new diaper? Or just into pajamas? She didn't bring pajamas with her; her bag was in the downstairs bedroom. I bit hard on my lip and leaned against the wall.

I didn't have to check anything: I needed to pee. I didn't want to do it with Blossom around, because... well, that was weird. But she did it with me around. Did she? Maybe when she went to get me juice...

Should I just use the bathroom then? I could change into another diaper, right? If I wet myself, I wasn't going to sleep in it anyway. I mean, I'd slept in a wet diaper before. It wasn't very comfortable. But these diapers were different.

Fuck, I felt stuck. I was just going to wet myself and not say anything, but now...

Well, now I could go upstairs and change after, right? Blossom admitted that she did it too. Maybe not wetting myself would make her more self-conscious? And I'd been in a wet diaper around her before, hadn't I?

When it came time for me to make a decision, I didn't. The nagging voice in the back of my head had convinced me that anything I did would be the wrong move. So, when I was sure I couldn't wait any longer without being rude, I made my way up the stairs and waited outside the closed bedroom door to my guest room. Maybe if I saw what Blossom chose to wear to bed, I'd have a better understanding of what to do. I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. I really had to pee...

Blossom suffered no such indecision or choice paralysis; she simply went into the bedroom, changed out of the wet diaper, used some wipes to clean her skin, and diapered herself in a fresh set of crinkly underpants. She actually felt really proud of how she was developing this skill, and although it may have been something she might never get to show-off to anybody else? This, in itself, was enough.

She crinkled up off the bed and adjusted herself gently in front of the mirror, before heading over to the bedroom door to re-open it… and she saw Amy standing right there, outside, doing a little potty dance.

"Hey cupcake~"

"Hey..."

Had she changed? Probably. She was in there a long time, but she was still wearing a diaper. Okay, so I could probably change too.

"Can I use the room?" I asked, a little nervously. I wasn't wet yet, but she didn't know that. I could just do it when I was alone. The toilet was twenty feet away, but I'd intentionally wet my diaper so I could change it. That was normal, right?

"Do you want me to change your diaper?"

Bam, just like that, rip the bandaid off, Blossom.

Well, if my face wasn't red before...

"I... what? No..." I almost said that I didn't need a change - which was true! - but it took me long enough to fumble for my words that I could correct my sentence. "I can do it..."

"I know you can do it, cupcake. I'm asking if you want to do it? I just changed one wet diaper, it's no big deal, and I like changing you~"

"N-no... I'm not..." I knew I could just say no. No, I didn't want her to do it! But that wasn't true. Every time Blossom changed my diaper, it was a fusion of literal Hell and literal Heaven. The kind of fear that people die of, and the kind of love that people live for. It had the disparity of a supernova and the mystification of a black hole. It defied reason. It was the kind of everything that gods couldn't manufacture.

So I stumbled into the truth, because it was the only excuse I had left.

"I'm not wet," I muttered.

"Then your poor bladder must be burning because we both had the same amount of juice and I soaked my diaper~"

There was definitely some degree of relishing that Blossom got to do when it came to saying lines like that. Maybe the novelty of it was more than enough to wipe out any level of shame or insecurity in what she'd done. Or maybe she just put on a strong face for Amy's sake.

"I was just gonna use the bathroom..." I muttered, which made no sense if I wanted the bedroom to myself. But I was still shifting subconsciously from foot to foot, just a little, and I couldn't meet Blossom's eyes.

"How about instead, you sit in front of me on the bed, I brush your hair, and if your diaper happens to be wet when I'm done, I can change you?"

"There's absolutely no way..." I tried to argue, but it came out weak and feeble. I hated my voice sometimes; it betrayed me when I needed it most.

"C'mon," Blossom said, taking Amy's hand and leading her into the bedroom. She sat me down on the edge of the bed and went into the bathroom to get a hairbrush.

I figured now was a good time, before she got back. It was my last chance to wet myself while I was alone. But even when I tried to make it happen, it didn't. Stupid potty training. Stupid conditioning. Ugh!

Blossom was back before long and I continued to sit there quietly. I was wiggling in place, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Wetting myself on command wasn't as easy as it was in the stories.

"Did I tell you that my Dad used to do my hair? He'd brush it for me every night, and then in the mornings he'd plait it for me before school."

As she recited that warm memory, she began to gently start running the brush through Amy's hair. Back then, she didn't know much about appearances; but today's Blossom was something of an expert.

"You've mentioned that, I think," I mumbled, playing with my fingers in my lap. I was anxious, but the need to use the bathroom was pulling me away from my thoughts. Whenever I was about to spiral into a panic attack, my body would quiver and I'd have to press my thighs together.

"Did your Mom brush your hair before bed? Like this?"

She used a deft and gentle hand as she brushed, mostly because she wasn't entirely familiar with Amy's hair or her hair routine and didn't know exactly what her limits and tolerances were yet.

"Not really... maybe when I was really young, but not since I started school." My hair knotted a lot in her brush. It was bouncy and heavy, whereas Blossom's was straight and fine. A lot of the time I didn't bother to brush my hair because it just made it frizzy at the ends. Blossom was having a hell of a time.

"Well, I'll just have to make up for that. You're far too little to be at school when you're still in diapers, anyhow, right?"

Mental note to future Blossom: buy a more suitable brush for Amy.

I rolled my eyes, but she couldn't see. The idea of not going to school, just because I was still in diapers... well, it would save me a lot of test anxiety.

When Blossom was done brushing my hair, I was still dry. Not that she could tell. How does one even know if a Little is wet? Diaper checks, right? There was a Twitter meme about that a while back...

"Need changing?" Blossom asked, choosing to bypass the diaper check step entirely. That was probably for the best: they hadn't really touched each other's diapers at all. Which wasn't to say that Blossom didn't want to check Amy; she was just respecting appropriate boundaries. A diaper was just like panties, and that required some explicit consent so far as she was concerned.

I shook my head shyly. I just couldn't do it with her sitting so close! I wasn't even sure I could do it with her in the room...

"Do you want me to wait outside?"

"Maybe just for a minute..." I tentatively stood up on my feet. The onesie pulled up between my legs, pressing the diaper to my skin. A warm shiver rushed up my spine and I bit my lip. Gosh...

"You got it, babes."