134.)

The bottle was gone. We made it through a few more episodes of Bluey and I was sure I'd have to watch them again. Blossom sat me up and ran her thumb over my lips, wet from a few stray drops of juice. I looked at her like she was the beginning and the end of the world. She sure felt like it.

"Doing okay, little one?" Blossom cooed. But her tone was different. She was asking.

I nodded my head. I was okay.

"You sure?" Blossom asked again.

I nodded my head. I was okay.

"Okay, good." Then, after a pause. "What are you thinking?"

"I dunno..." I admitted. Usually my thoughts were a swirling mass of contradictions, but I didn't feel that way. I wasn't sure what I felt. Baking was really the only comparison, but it didn't feel the same at all.

There were a lot of snappy retorts that Blossom could have made here – something like "well that's good because thoughts are for people, and not for Candies" – but this was post-scene aftercare time, and that meant some more seriousness and tender love.

"Did you had fun? Is there anything you need?"

I shook my head. I didn't need anything else. She had given me so much, and all those feelings... all these feelings...

"Come here, okay? Cuddle with me a second."

Blossom paused Bluey and helped me into her lap. She leaned sideways, so her back was against the chaise where I usually sat. Then she pulled me into her lap, so my head was on her chest. I let my eyes flutter closed as she played with my hair again. This close to her, so close to her... I was overwhelmed. But in a good way. In a way I hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

Blossom was a tall girl, and she was a well-endowed girl, and she was muscular and fit. All of those things were excellent co-conspirators when it came to holding an adult woman in her lap and making her feel like she was less than an adult. She played her fingers through Amy's hair as the quiet, submissive baby girl rested her head on Blossom's boobs, and she felt a certain kind of peace that no amount of money could buy.

"You did so good~"

I kept waiting to feel stupid about the whole thing. I kept waiting to feel ugly or disgusting. I kept waiting to hate myself for something I did. But the way I was sitting, my butt tingled a little. A reminder of my spanking. And whenever I moved, I crinkled. A reminder of my diaper. And whenever I looked at Blossom, she smiled. A reminder of her love for me. That, even if I thought I was stupid and ugly and disgusting and I hated myself, she didn't.

She said some other stuff. I wasn't sure it mattered; it was the tone she used. Calm. Nice. Safe.

I turned my body a little, leaned up, and kissed her on the lips. I don't know why, really. I just wanted to.

The kiss was gentle and soft, not the romantic kind of passionate kiss that people liked to do on TV. But it was a kiss that Blossom would remember forever, because it was the culmination of so many wonderful feelings. It was the first time that Amy had kissed Blossom, instead of the other way around, and it made her well up with warmth like geysers.

It was a kiss that, while simple, left Blossom a little breathless and pink cheeked and speechless for a moment afterward.

"Goodness gracious. You’re so adorable, cupcake."

I rolled my eyes, but I smiled all the same. I wanted very badly to kiss her again, to keep kissing her and not stop kissing her, but a bit of Real Life Amanda was catching up to me and I felt a little silly about the whole thing. So I got out of Blossom's lap and passed her the remote.

We re-watched a few episodes of Bluey - the ones I hadn't paid attention to - and she went to the kitchen to get me another bottle. I held it this time and drank it myself. I admit, it wasn't half as nice as when she did it for me, but it was still a very nice experience. I guess I really liked baby bottles; who would have guessed?

"How was the scene?" Blossom finally asked, late into the night. Amy actually looked pretty tired.

"I really liked it," I admitted sheepishly. "The spanking was... unexpected."

"Was that okay? We didn't plan for it, so..."

"No! Uh. I really liked it. And... I dunno. I have never really acted like that before. Kind of rude?"

"Bratty," Blossom corrected. "And it was cute."

"You sure? I still feel kind of bad about it..."

"You feel bad for the thing I encouraged you to do, that made me happy, that made you happy, that's an overwhelming large part of the Little Experience for many people?"

Blossom grinned, silly and lopsided, and winked.

"You were adorable. You make a really cute brat, and you make a really cute subby-broken-in-Candy too. You did so good."

I smiled a little and looked down. I pushed my fingers together, my index finger and my thumb. I was wiggling just a little on the sofa, and the rustling of the diaper was obvious, probably even to Blossom. Did I really look cute like this? When I looked in the mirror, it seemed like it. But now, I wasn't sure.

"Bedtime?" Blossom asked. "You can lay in bed with me."

I could tell she was tired. I was kind of tired too, but I didn't want the night to end. I knew the scene was over, but I wanted to hold onto this for as long as I could. It was like the time when Blossom and I were sitting on the porch, my first time at the beach house. But if I stayed there, then I would miss out on all the other moments waiting for us. I couldn't risk that, so I got up and followed Blossom to her bedroom.

I hadn't even made it to her bedroom when I paused. Blossom turned around curiously.

"Potty," I muttered, shifting from one foot to the other. I'd been holding it for a while, and I'd had two whole bottles. And that bottle was pretty big too!

"And do Candies use the potty, cupcake? Do they even remember how? Or do they wet their diapers in their sleep and have their busty babysitter change them in the morning?" Blossom was playing cutely, but she was also playing softly; an invitation, not a mandate.

"I thought the scene was over," I said with a pout, but Blossom smiled that mischievous smile. Maybe scenes weren't so black and white?

"I thought with all that Good Girl Juice you'd be more accepting of your new life," Blossom said wistfully. "But if you wanna use the potty..."

My Mommy and Daddy loved me better this way. Blossom loved me better this way. I bit my lip and looked away, a blush on my cheeks.

"No, I'm... fine..."

"There's my good girl~" Blossom grinned and winked, and when the moment presented itself, she whispered in Amy's ear a little amendment to that.

"If you get too self conscious, let me know yellow and you can use the potty, okay?"

Rules and safewords were important, after all.

"Sure," I muttered, still a bit pink in my cheeks. Blossom left me alone to turn down the bed and I stood awkwardly, swaying side to side.

If I went to bed now, I wouldn't be able to sleep. If I did, I'd wake up to use the bathroom. No, I had to get this over with. But Blossom was in the room, and... I wasn't sure I could do that.

Luckily she pulled out her bag and started to change into her pajamas. I used that as an opportunity to slip out - which was really just taking a few steps backwards - into the hall.

I could see the bathroom door from where I was standing. I could just walk up to it. I could take off this diaper and use the toilet like a big girl. But I had to go, and without Blossom's eyes on me, it felt so much easier. Before I could take a step - that's what I told myself, anyway - I felt the heat on my skin. Wetness soaked into the diaper and pooled between my legs. I just stood there, frozen in place. So close to the restroom, so close to adulthood, and I had another accident.

I tried to stop myself. To spare myself the humiliation. But I didn't really try to stop myself at all. It just kept going. The diaper grew soggy and heavy, sagging between my thighs. My knees felt a little weak and I leaned back on the wall for support.

Then it was done. The relief was palpable, but embarrassment was quick to replace it. So close, Amanda... so close to wearing panties again and proving to Blossom I didn't need diapers anymore. Maybe I could even get out of this silly Academy.

But maybe she was right. Maybe this was inevitable. Maybe I was sick...

When I came back into Blossom's room, my cheeks were pink and I was pulling my shirt down a little bit over the top of my diaper. I wasn't sure if it was obvious just by looking at it, but I felt like I had to hide what I'd done.

"All ready for bed, Candy girl?"

Blossom had changed into pajamas that were booty shorts and a crop top made of flannel - a very Blossom Brixley expression of weather defiance. She knew that Amy had stepped out into the hall to wet her diaper, but kept those comments to herself.

"Mmhmm..." I nodded and Blossom led me to the bed. I crawled under the covers and sat down on the seat of my very wet diaper. Immediately, a fresh heat washed over my face. I scrambled to pull the covers up over me and tried not to wiggle as much as I wanted to. My thighs begged to press themselves together, knowing full well they couldn't.

Blossom crawled into bed next me. She pulled me into our usual position, the position I was always in when we cuddled: my head on her chest, my leg over hers, and the front of my diaper up against her thigh. But when the soggy diaper pressed up against my skin, a little shiver ran up my spine. Not a cold one, but a very warm one. Without thinking, I tried to squeeze my legs shut. Instead, I squeezed Blossom's leg between mine.

"Oh that's right, cupcake; squeeze tight and cuddle in. It's cold outside and we both wanna stay as warm as can be, right?"

If Blossom hadn't been sure that Amy was wet before, the warmth of her padding made it 182% certain.

I was tired. I thought maybe with Blossom's arms around me I would fall asleep without any trouble. But my head was slow and sticky and my thoughts were on one thing. So it wasn't even a minute later when I leaned up and kissed Blossom again on the lips. Not once, but twice. They were in reverse order: the first one was intense and rough, and the second was soft and nervous.

"Sorry," I mumbled. My glasses were on the nightstand and I couldn't even see her in the grayscale bedroom, lit only by moon beams and ambient light from the universe around us.

"You better not be~"

Blossom followed up the two kisses with another, initiated by her this time, and she put one hand on Amy's cheek to direct her and guide her, to keep Amy under her whims and wishes. There wasn't a lot in this world that Blossom Brixley wanted more in that moment than to keep kissing Amy, so she intended to do just that.

I wasn't good at kissing. Not like Blossom. Blossom's kisses were hypnotizing. They were an art form. They led you in. They tantalized. They made you want more. They felt like a craving, like eating only a single Pringle. They were soft and hard at the same time. They were gentle and passionate at the same time. I never let her kiss me that much, and now I knew why. Because I just never wanted to stop.

My back hit the bedsheets and I felt her weight on my thigh. We hadn't switched positions so much as she was now hovering over me. Her hand brushed my stomach, along my side. I wanted to push her away from my body, away from the worst of me. But before I could, she kissed me again.

"You've got hands," Blossom whispered. "Don't forget that."

Hands? Oh, hands. Right. I had one arm under her, so I raised it and put my hand on her back. The other one... I wasn't sure. I just kind of left it there.

But her hands were busy. One was under my head, holding me in place. Giving me room when I needed it. Pushing me into her when I needed it. I felt like a puppet. Her other hand slid under my t-shirt, along my side. She pushed the shirt up, just a little, and squeezed me close to her. I squirmed and shifted my weight so I was almost on my side.

I had to move my free hand. It was awkwardly behind me, so I let it fall on her hip. On her short pajama pants, near the waistband. It just stayed there, but it felt more natural. It felt like it was supposed to go there.

"Good girl~"

Blossom whispered encouragingly, a little bit breathlessly; it had been a long time since she'd had the pleasure of coaching someone through any of this, but with Amy it felt like it was as much of a privilege as meeting royalty. She continued to kiss Amy, and with her own hands she continued to explore her; one hand on her head in one way or another, and another that slid its way down to her diapered bottom, crinkling the plastic with her fingertips.

Blossom. Was. Really. Horny.

Blossom's hand glossed over my diaper and a warm shiver ran up my spine. The butterflies in my stomach were throwing a birthday party. Then she cupped my butt and pulled me close, so that I was on my side entirely, and pressed her thighs to mine. It was a little harder to kiss in this position, and I found my head tucked into her shoulder. Her lips were at my neck - I felt the slight pressure, followed by the soft and unmistakable sound of a kiss.

I was entwined with her. Our legs side by side, then her leg, then my leg. Her arm under my neck. My arm pressed between us, the only thing separating our stomachs. My other arm wrapped around her side, hand on the bare skin of her back. Her other arm draped over my hip, over the wing of my diaper, and squeezing my padded butt. Her lips on my neck, kissing. My lips on her neck, trying to remember how to pass air in and out of my lungs.

It was sexy. Intrinsically sexy. Objectively sexy. It was the kind of thing that anybody could look at and deem it indecent. But there was something more to it, more than just arousal and passion and a biological urge to cum. There was something in her embrace, in the way she held me. And there was something about the safety of a diaper. Even though it was sexy, it was - more than anything else - comforting.

She rubbed my butt, crinkling the plastic, and squeezed me close. The warm, wet padding pressed into my skin and I let out a sound I don't think I'd ever made before. If I were a hot summer day, it would translate to a breeze. If I were a cat, it would translate to a purr. I felt a little embarrassed and pulled away, managing to disentangle myself from Blossom.

I was hot. Blossom was hotter.

"You okay?" Blossom whispered.

"Mmhmm... just a little overwhelmed. Not in a bad way."

"Wanna cuddle?" Blossom asked, already regretting the words.

"Yeah, I think so..."

It might have been easy to frame this as being a form of denial; boys that Blossom had stopped at this point had accused her of being a tease, of giving them blue balls, or whatever else. But this was special. This was progress. This was magical. And every small step was a victory when it came to navigating Amy's insecurities. Baby steps had a whole new meaning in this case.

So though Blossom was pent up and horny, she wasn't mad about it. She was proud of Amy for what she could do. Blossom laid on her back so that the blushy girl could cuddle up against her like she always did.

"In you get, muffin~"