102.)

Blossom slid off the bed, in diaper and onesie and all, and took her leave of the bedroom to give Amy some privacy.

Once the door was closed, once I was alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Ordinarily, when I wet myself, I was sitting in my bed. I was usually writing Academy Works. However, out of necessity and a fear of leaking, I'd gotten really good at doing it standing up in my bathroom.

I looked around the small guest bedroom, at the messy sheets, and at the mirror. I wandered toward the latter, getting another good look at myself. My hair was brushed in a nice way. I pulled it into two sections, one on each side of my head, and twisted them until they held together as long as I didn't move. They looked like little pigtails. If it wasn't for my fat stomach stretching out the front of the onesie, I would say I even looked cute.

I ran my fingers down my fat stomach to the front of my diaper. The onesie was covering it, but I could see the contours of the padding through the fabric. I could hear the soft crinkling. I could feel the thickness. I wanted to unsnap my onesie and wet myself in front of the mirror. I wondered if it would look like it did when Blossom did it in front of the "classroom". But unsnapping the onesie meant snapping it back up afterward. I was too lazy.

So I stepped away from the mirror and leaned against the wall. It was so easy, now that Blossom was out of the room. A exhaled softly and let go.

It was different than last time. There wasn't space between my skin and the soft padding of the diaper; the onesie pressed it into me. The hot dampness spread up the front of my crotch, across the crest of my butt, and the diaper began to expand ever-so-slowly. I didn't stop once I started, and I could feel the warm liquid pooling higher and higher along my skin.

It would leak. I was sure of it. But it didn't.

When I was done, I was soaked. The soggy diaper was pulled tight between my legs and my thighs were forced apart. My cheeks were pink with embarrassment and I could hardly form a word. If I could, if someone asked me how it felt in that moment... maybe I would say: sexy.

Sexy. Gosh, it felt sexy. Soaking my diaper like a little girl. Every sensation between my legs - such adult feelings - were only made possible by such an infantile act. Every step I took in my sodden padding was converted into a waddle, like currency exchange at the airport. They took a cut, a small fee for their service. The fee for me was my adulthood. Every step was a step further away from my life as a big girl.

It must have been too long. I heard a knock on the door. My breathing was a little shallow, but I called out all the same: "Come in."

"I knew you could do it, cupcake!"

Admittedly, Blossom didn't have any way to know that the deed had indeed been done, but she assumed, from the blush on Amy's cheeks, that her little fascination of a girl was just as soggy as could be.

"C'mon, let's get in bed," Blossom urged, pulling back the covers.

"Huh...?" My eyes opened a bit wider. "Wait... I have to change."

"I gave you time for that," Blossom said matter-of-factly. "Now it's bedtime."

"But..." Oh, I had a million reasons why I wasn't going to be going to bed in a wet diaper with Blossom! But the heaviness between my legs and the heat in my diaper made it so hard to pull any of them from the aether. My cheeks were burning.

"It's late, stop fussing~"

It wasn't objectively late, but late enough and dark enough for Blossom to be able to make that as a point to further make Amy blushy.

Blossom crawled into bed, her diapered ass high in the air, pressing tightly against the seat of her onesie. She leaned forward, so her bottom was sticking out, and grunted. The back of her diaper began to expand, to balloon out, until the snaps of her onesie popped open. I watched as the seat of her diaper take on a brown tinge and she let out a sigh of content.

Okay, so that didn't happen. But her butt was on display as she crawled into bed and I was feeling warm all over. When I didn't immediately move toward the bed, Blossom's voice called out sharply.

"Amy. Bedtime."

I moved automatically, like I was baking. My feet stepped forward, to the bed, walked around, and I crawled under the covers on the other side. The seat of my diaper squished against my bottom when I sat down on it and I let out an audible breath. I almost took off my glasses, to put them on the nightstand, but a part of me was still wondering when I could get changed. I had to get changed before bed, right?

"Glasses~"

Blossom held out her hand expectantly, and when she wasn't handed Amy's glasses, she took them off for her, folded them gently, and set them on her side of the bed's bedside table.

"Snuggle down and get comfy, my little cupcake plush, I'm going to cuddle you all night and it's going to be amazing, I promise."

"I really should change," I tried one last time, but Blossom ignored it. She clicked off the light and the room was dark for a few minutes. I felt Blossom pulling me into her, into one of the two poses we usually came back to: my head on the side of her breast, my leg draped over her thighs, and the front of my diaper pressed against her hip.

The front of my wet diaper.

She held me so close, closer than usual. Closer than all the other times we'd cuddled.

Soon, my eyes adjusted and moonlight filled the room. Without my glasses, I couldn't make out anything but shapes, but Blossom was right there next to me. Under me, almost. Her chin was illuminated by a moonbeam. The side of one cheek. Her eyes were closed, and I only knew that because the shine off her eyelashes was curved the wrong way. Downward, not upward.

I moved. A mistake. The diaper found new places between my legs to press into, and her diaper crinkled under my thigh. Her chest was so soft, so plump. I couldn't feel her ribs at all, like sleeping on a water bed. A water bed that could unsnap its own onesie, lift up its top, and press its nipple between my lips. I could suck and wiggle and squeeze my thighs against hers. I could press the front of my diaper into her hip. Droplets of warm milk would splash my tongue, like Aya in Academy A. Blossom could whisper words into my ears, words that would be spun into truths like flies in a web.

Me. Lying on her. Nursing. Diapered. Soaked. The narrative of my life in my ear, not a life I had ever known, but the life I'd know forevermore.

It had to have been an hour. An hour, lying there, and wanting to kiss Blossom Brixley. And so, like any normal adult woman, I started to cry.