Dear Diary - Chapter 6 (Patreon)

"No, no," Morgan smiled, having a hard time keeping herself from laughing at the sight of Ryan, tucked into bed with the sun still peeking out ever-so-slightly beyond the horizon, knowing he had a girls' Pull-Up on under his PJ pants. "You've had a long day... You need the rest. I'll be in a little later, okay?"

He didn't answer at first; it was only once she was almost out of the room that she heard a small, timid voice, so different than what she was used to from him. "You believe me, don't you?"

"I know you don't want to wear them, honey. You saw the prescription, though... And it's better to be on the safe side, isn't it? You've been having a lot of accidents lately, but we'll see how you do in a couple days, and then..." she told him, of course not about to let on that she certainly had no intention of letting him prove he didn't need training pants.

"No, not that," he sighed. "I-I mean, I don't need them, but... Y-You do believe I didn't put those clothes on, don't you?"

"Well, how else did they get on you?" she asked, sitting down next to him on the bed, brushing his now longer hair out of his eyes. "If it makes you feel better about your Pull-Ups to dress that way, it's okay with me. Whatever you need."

"I-It didn't!" he insisted, blushing. "That skirt was so short... I-I was afraid everyone would see my Pull-Up..."

Morgan was tempted to point out that the girls had, although they hadn't gotten a good enough peek to know for sure that's what it was, but that would have revealed she was watching much longer than she'd pretended. "There were longer skirts there, too," she pointed out. "I don't know why you picked that one."

"I didn't!" he whined. "It was..."

He went quiet again, aware of how ridiculous his excuse sounded; Morgan had made sure he knew that when he'd tried to explain it all to her in the store, after she'd asked if he'd paid for his new clothes. "What?" she pressed. "The mannequin did it?"

"I wish you would have gone to look at it," he pouted. "Then you would've seen..."

"I'm sure I would have," she said condescendingly. "I'm just glad we didn't get stopped by security."

She watched him squirm, almost wishing she'd gone for it. Seeing him get dragged away by some big, strong security officer while dressed as a little girl for shoplifting the clothes he was wearing would have been a blast, but she'd decided he'd been through enough. She had, however, mentioned it to him to plant the idea in his head that, if he had stolen that outfit, he might get arrested, then, with the diary, ensured both that there would be an officer standing near the door as they left, and that Ryan would get so nervous at the sight he would wet himself.

She had no clue if the final thing she'd written had worked or not, since she'd allowed him to change himself - after 'spotting' the wet Pull-Up under his skirt as soon as they were home, to make certain he didn't try to hide the evidence - although there was no reason to doubt the diary's effectiveness at this point. He probably didn't know the exact moment his penis had shrunk even more was when he'd gotten so scared by simply spotting another man that he'd peed his pants, but she did, and it made her happy, anyway.

She wondered, idly, if just her bringing it up again had made him have another accident, if the memory of thinking he was going to be caught was enough... It was almost a pity she was going to use the diary to force him to wet the bed, and erase any evidence of an older, smaller wetting by the next morning. She couldn't come up with a good justification for checking him right then - and wasn't about to let him wake up dry - so she supposed she would have to live with the mystery.

"You'd better get to sleep," she told him. "Night-night."

Considering her resolution to use the diary less - and the consequences she'd suffered herself, presumably for how much she had used it - she'd written an awful lot on their trip. Maybe she should take a break, find out how his trainers had fared without any outside interference... He'd already had enough accidents for her to point at as to why she was keeping him 'safe' with the extra padding.

She wanted him to feel helpless, though, like he couldn't even trust his own body anymore, not even to stop itself from peeing while he was asleep, something it had been capable of for decades. She debated for a minute whether to just write that he was a bedwetter now, so she wouldn't have to do this every night. At some point, she reasoned, she might want to let him have a dry night, to give him the tiniest glimmer of hope... But, if she did, she could write that happened; most nights, she'd want him to wake up wet, so that might as well be the default.

And, after seeing him with those teenagers, she couldn't resist the temptation to shrink him a bit more, too. She was lucky some of them had been taller than him already, yet it would have been even better if they all had been, if he'd really had to crane his neck to look up at the tallest one. So, with a few strokes of her pen, she knocked off another couple inches.

Telling herself she'd tormented Ryan enough for one day, she turned the page to the entry she'd started the previous night about his girlfriend. She had no idea if what she'd written had worked on the other woman... If it didn't, though, then it would surely be even safer to write about her, since there couldn't be any magical kickback if the diary didn't do anything. And she liked to imagine the woman's reactions... It wasn't as good as seeing them herself, but it was an acceptable substitute.

With an evil grin, she decided it was only fitting for the two lovebirds to develop a matching bed-time problem. The woman wouldn't even have warning, or protection... She'd just wake up wet, for no apparent reason. She'd likely think it was a one-time thing, a fluke, until it kept happening every night, until she had to go to the doctor for an exam. They wouldn't find anything, of course, no way to help her, except to put her back in diapers. 

The thought of doctors gave Morgan an even better idea, and a way to find out, eventually, if she was doing anything with these entries targeting the person having an affair with Ryan or not. The woman's regular doctor was going to be replaced by Stephanie, starting the next day, to ensure she would be there when the woman made the call... She felt bad for Stephanie, having to switch practices again, though she had a feeling, if the doctor knew the whole story, she'd be happy to help. Stephanie had Ryan's number from his file, so when the woman showed up, she'd feel compelled to call him, who would, if he wasn't near Morgan, would feel compelled to call her, and she'd rush over to see the fruits of her labor.

And, while she was at it, she mused, why not give the woman something else to worry about, another reason to potentially visit her doctor. It was only fair, considering what she was doing to Ryan... From what she recalled seeing that fateful afternoon, she did have bigger breasts than Morgan, anyway. A filthy cheater like her didn't deserve that. She didn't care as much about this being subtle, since she wouldn't get to see most of it, so she immediately knocked her down a few cup sizes, morphing her double D's into C's, making certain there was no way she wouldn't notice, or think it was her imagination.

Satisfied with a job well done, she went to make herself a cup of tea and watch TV for a little while before heading to bed. Ryan was already fast asleep by the time she climbed into bed, and she couldn't help reaching over, into his pajama pants, and giving his training pants a squeeze, grinning at the warm squish they made. Everything was going perfectly, she thought as she drifted off.

She woke up in a puddle; it wasn't the first time, of course, since Ryan had wet the bed a night earlier, too, without any protection. As much as she didn't want to have to do laundry again, she was, for a moment, delighted, knowing his accident had been too big for his Pull-Up, that she had an excuse to get him into full-blown diapers, at least at night... However, as she moved, it began to be quite obvious she was much wetter than she had gotten the night before, almost as if Ryan's padding hadn't worked at all, or made it worse, somehow.

But that didn't make sense... Unless he'd had way more to drink yesterday than the day before, there shouldn't be this huge of a difference, right? And, the longer she thought about it, the more she realized the wetness seemed to have soaked right through her nightshirt, and even into her panties, which were positively drenched. If she didn't know better, she might have thought she...

She blushed, reluctantly reaching under the sheets and navigating her hand to Ryan, still fast asleep, sliding her fingers inside his PJs. The Pull-Up beneath was definitely wet... It didn't feel like it was leaking, however. In fact, his pants were barely wet at all, the worst of the puddle being centered on her side of the bed...

"No way," she whispered, cheeks darkening. Was this the magical cost for turning two grown-ups into bedwetters? Becoming one herself?! Her mind and heart raced, wondering how she was going to explain this, how she could spin this into her plot to humiliate him. The answer was obvious, really; she blamed her own embarrassment for why she didn't come up with it right away.

Carefully, she climbed out of bed, not wanting to wake Ryan, then rolled him over, closer to the wet spot. Then, carefully, slowly, she began to slide his pants down, shimmying them over his slightly swollen Pull-Up, freezing as she saw his eyes flutter open. "Wh-What are you doing?" he yawned.

"Sweetie, it happened again," she said, as sincerely as she could, fighting not to let her anxiety rise to the surface while she yanked his pants all the way off to keep him from discovering they weren't as wet as they ought to be. "I guess we need something a little more absorbent for nighttime, huh? I'm just trying to get a head start on getting everything ready to be washed."

"I'm sorry," he blushed, looking around, brows furrowing. "Why am I on your side of the bed?"

"Y-You must have rolled over in your sleep," she shrugged. "You were over there when I turned in last night, so I slept over on your side."

He nodded sleepily, thankfully buying the story. Despite everything, Morgan was pleased to see how cute he looked, sitting up in his wet Pull-Up, his PJ shirt too big for him, almost as much as Morgan's intentionally oversized one. "Wow, I really got you, too, huh?" he said, getting a good glimpse of her. Her eyes darted to his side of the bed, the one she'd supposedly slept on, wondering if she'd made a mistake, if he noticed how dry it was, compared to her. "Sorry," he told her instead. "I-I didn't mean to..."

"I know," she smiled at him. "Don't worry about it... Just get your shirt off and toss it on there, and I'll put it all in the washer while you get cleaned up, okay?"

He nodded, did what he was told like a good little boy. He was still embarrassed enough not to put up a fight when she insisted he wear a Pull-Up to work, under his clothes, which were almost comically large on him now. He looked like a little kid playing dress-up as she sent him out the door and to work.

As soon as he was out of the way, she hurried to the diary. She wanted desperately to keep herself from wetting the bed again, and yet, as she hovered her pen over the page, she realized she might not be able to do that. If this was a punishment, visited on her for over-using the diary's magic, would using the diary more to undo it actually work? Or would it make it worse?

The diary, obviously, didn't come with instructions, so there was no way for her to know. It felt too easy, to be able to wish away the consequences of what she'd already done, like it shouldn't be possible... But it wasn't as if she knew, for a fact, it wasn't. There was a chance the bedwetting hadn't even been caused by that, at least not in the way she thought; perhaps she'd done it because she'd spent so long thinking about it before bed, and the concept had wormed its way into her mind.

Honestly, it seemed unlikely, and a bit silly, but she couldn't rule it out. It was also possible this was a one time thing, that she had to endure it this one day, and she'd be done, as opposed to Ryan and his lover, who would be doing it the rest of their lives, or until she got bored with them. That was an acceptable trade-off... Although, it felt a little like gambling, going to bed that night without protection, unless she snuck one of Ryan's Pull-Ups on after he was asleep - if they'd fit her. If it happened again, and especially if Ryan woke up before her the next morning...

This was, she thought, probably what it was like to be a real bedwetter, which made it all the more humiliating. Unless it happened when they were very little, fresh out of potty training, it usually came out of nowhere, and there was no way to know, for certain, if it would happen more than once, or if the cures they tried would help or prove useless. Of course, in most cases, none of those were likely to make things worse, whereas she had a feeling that was a very real possibility for her.

She decided to wait, to think about it a bit longer, maybe make the call that night before bed. She wasn't planning on taking any naps that day, after all... There was no reason she had to jump into anything right away. She put her pen down, then started to slide the diary into the drawer for safe-keeping, only to pause halfway in.

She didn't want to take the whole diary to work with her, and she did want to make sure she didn't use it any more than she had to - she'd set things up now so that, at least until she got that call from Stephanie, she probably wouldn't need to do anything else - yet there was still the matter of her promotion. Why were the higher-ups hesitating? They needed somebody to take Diana's place... She was right there, so obviously qualified, and able to do it, since she'd already, basically, been doing it all along...

She wanted them to make the decision themselves, but the longer it took, the more she worried they'd find another candidate. If she had to take somebody else out of the position to clear the way for herself again, she could, and would... That meant using the diary even more, however, not less. 

All she needed was one little scrap to jot that down on... Did it work that way, though? Could she rip out part of a page, and have that work the same way the diary as a whole did? As she flipped through the diary, to the very end, she saw somebody had apparently had the same idea, at some point; a few pages, at least, had been torn out. She hadn't noticed that before, but she also hadn't had any reason to look that far into the otherwise blank notebook.

The journal had been in a thrift store, so it made sense another person had owned it before her. She assumed they'd bought it, then decided they didn't need it after all and got rid of it. What if they'd started writing from the other side, however, then ripped out everything they'd done to hide the evidence before passing the notebook on to somebody else? It meant there was another person, at least, who knew about this thing, who might even be able to tell her what she wanted to know, about the consequences... If they'd left something this powerful behind intentionally, there had to be a reason.

Or they might have ripped out those pages, used them for something innocuous - or, the pages, removed from the book, were useless - and never found out the true power of what they had. Maybe it had been some dumb teenagers at the thrift store. Whatever the case, she wasn't going to be able to discern what happened now, and she needed to get moving. If nothing else, it showed her she wouldn't accidentally destroy the magic of the diary by doing this, which was comforting. If she got her promotion anyway, she'd find another little thing to test with her scrap of paper, to see if a piece of the journal worked the same as the whole; if they hadn't called her in for a meeting by that afternoon, she'd test the scrap with that, and if it didn't work, she'd use the diary once she was home to ensure it happened the first thing the next morning.

She tore off a corner of the last page, just enough for what she needed, and stuffed it into her purse as she headed out the door, and to the office. She waited the whole morning, hoping for the best, that her phone would ring, and her biggest concern for the rest of the day would be deciding what silly thing to test her piece of the diary with...

It didn't come. She even gave them another hour after lunch, but, when she hadn't been summoned up to the top floor by then, she dug through her purse and grabbed the scrap of paper. She deserved this... She wasn't sure why they couldn't see that, yet she absolutely did. They'd realize it once she was in her rightful position... She wouldn't be surprised if she got promoted even further before long, although she'd be happy have Diana's job for the time being.

She'd judged the rip pretty perfectly, having just enough room to write what she needed. She had to use both sides, but that was fine with her; no sense in wasting any of the diary. She folded it up once she was done, sliding it back into her purse, and turning her eyes to the phone on her desk. She hadn't written that the promotion would happen immediately, only by the end of the day, so she didn't know exactly when it would ring. The work day wasn't much longer, however...

Finally, it happened. She nearly leapt on receiver, trying to act surprised when the secretary asked her to come upstairs. Grinning, she hopped to her feet and rushed for the elevator, so thrilled that, despite feeling something was off, she wasn't worried enough about it to try and figure it out, until the doors had slid shut, and she was alone in the tiny room as it slowly rose up the building, staring at her reflection in the gleaming metal.

At first, she thought she was seeing it wrong, that the reflection was being twisted somehow, like a funhouse mirror. Maybe the doors needed to be washed, polished... Yet, they seemed as clean as ever, and she'd never noticed this before... Anxiously, she glanced down, letting out a squeak when she realized it was real, that what she'd seen was perfectly accurate.

"What the hell?!" she growled, hands shooting up to her breasts... Or, rather, where they should have been. Perhaps as a way to make up for what had happened in bed, or maybe to emphasize that she was now more endowed than that cow Ryan was seeing on the side, she'd dressed a little more provocatively than usual, in a shirt that really showed off her cleavage... Cleavage which, to her horror, now no longer existed.

The front of her shirt, previously so tight it had almost looked ready to burst, or slide down, now flapped loosely, exposing her equally empty bra, and what was left of her breasts beneath. They hadn't been that small since middle school, possible even longer... These were A cups, at the very best. She raised her purse, frantically digging for the piece of paper, but there was no way there was enough room to write a fix to this on there...

This was another punishment. Probably for shrinking the girlfriend's breasts, or maybe for what she'd done to Ryan's penis... Or a combination of the two. Unlike her other punishments, however, she wasn't sure how she was going to hide this. She'd already answered the phone, told the secretary she was on her way... Was she going to pretend she'd gotten sick in the two minutes since then?! Even if it was the diary's magic prompting them to promote her, she didn't want to leave them waiting if she didn't have to... That was no way to make a start as the newest executive...

Maybe she could stop by the bathroom, stuff her bra, like she'd made fun of so many less-endowed girls doing in high school, when they'd bought dresses they clearly weren't built for. This wasn't boosting her bust size a bit, though... It was rebuilding it completely. Even if she used up all the toilet paper in the bathroom, she couldn't disguise that was what she had done, not when the shirt was cut as low as it was...

Her eyes darted towards the numbers, telling her she was approaching the top floor. Nervously, she tugged on the front of the shirt, raising it up as high as she could, trying, briefly, to figure out how to tuck it into her bra to keep it in place, and hope the bra alone would make it look like she had something... The bra was far too loose to help with that, causing more problems than it was solving, so she wound up yanking it off and stuffing it into her purse.

She was tying the back of the shirt into an awkward knot when the elevator doors opened, right in view of the secretary's desk. "Oh, good," the woman smiled. "Right this way!"

Morgan was definitely glad she hadn't waited to sneak into the bathroom. She wasn't sure her solution was perfect, but it did raise the neckline up enough to keep her from flashing anyone in front of her, so long as she was careful about how she moved. From the back, she had no doubt the knot looked weird, and would raise some questions... By the time she left, however, she'd already have her new job, and hopefully the execs would be distracted by something else, and not watching her leave.

It should have been a triumphant moment, sitting there in front of the bigwigs, listening to them tell her how they'd noticed her hard work, and appreciated it, and thought it was time she was rewarded for it. Mostly, though, she was more concerned they'd wonder why she'd chosen to wear a shirt that fit her so poorly, and terrified the knot might come undone without her realizing it and she'd wind up showing off her newly flat chest. 

"We can't give you too many details now," she was told, "but we think you're going to be perfect."

"Huh?" She blushed, knowing how dumb she must sound, as if she hadn't been paying attention... Which, to be fair, she hadn't. She shouldn't have needed to. "I-I think I've been working with Diana long enough to know all the details I need."

"Oh, no, I think you misunderstand," he said. "You're being put in charge of the new department."

"New..?" She didn't recall hearing anything about the company adding a new department.

"That's right," the bigwig smiled. "Like I said, we can't give you too many details about it... We don't even have your new office ready, so you're free to go home early today if you'd like, and tomorrow, you can really get started."

At last, something was going her way. Part of Morgan wondered if it was a test, if she should say that, no, she wanted to stay and finish out the work day, but she was quite eager to get out of there and back home, to her diary. 

She honestly had no idea if her own test, with the piece of the diary, had worked or not, whether this promotion was good, or potentially another punishment. It was a promotion, yes, though not the one she'd asked for... Perhaps it had nothing to do with what she'd written, and they had planned on giving her this, anyway, and that was why they hadn't said anything about Diana's position... She had a bad feeling, whatever was going on, she may have gotten herself in too deep. And, unfortunately, the only way she could think to fix it was by going even further, using the diary even more, and hoping that didn't make things worse.