Bottoms Up, Part 9 (Patreon)

Nine: Around

Effie preferred spending her days off alone. She could be a social creature at times; when she needed to be. And it wasn’t like she was getting overloaded with human interaction while at the store. She just liked being home, surrounded by her things. No diapers, just books. No cardboard shipping boxes, just the warm glow of her TV.

But she was not home today - already a strike against it.

She knocked on the strange new door in her life. There had been times in the day or two leading up to this moment, where she had been overwhelmingly anxious. Others where she was curiously optimistic. And the rest were spent wishing she had never agreed to any of this.

It’s not my fucking store.

The door opened and Margaret was there to greet her. “Punctual, I see. I like that.”

Effie was punctual when she knew she had to be. Work was not one of those times. But she wasn’t able to disrespect Margaret McCrea.

“Euphemia,” Margaret said as she closed the door behind Effie.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s a Greek name. It is from where your name, Effie, is derived. You told me the other day that your name wasn’t short for anything.”

“Oh. Well…I can assure you that my name is ‘Effie’ on my birth certificate.”

Margaret laughed, walking into her kitchen with Effie trailing behind. “The Greek have a wonderful language. Like...pána.”

“Pána?”

“Greek for ‘diaper,’ I believe. More of an infant’s diaper, I think. Still seems fitting though.”

Effie had no clue if this was accurate or not, but she liked how worldy it made Margaret sound.

“May I get you something?” Margaret asked. “Coffee? A warm bottle of milk?”

Effie wondered how Layne would’ve reacted to a question like that. Would a question about a bottle of milk get his heart racing? Would he salivate uncontrollably? It did nothing for her. She had never experienced a longing for something so infantile.

“Maybe just some water?”

“I actually have some hot water on the stove - I was about to have a cup of tea. Perhaps I could make you a cup? I have a cranberry pomegranate herbal.”

She wasn’t incredibly interested in tea either. She didn’t dislike it, but it often seemed so boring. Effie felt the same way about cans of flavored seltzer water where the flavor had to have been added by someone waving a single piece of fruit around in a warehouse.

“Yes, that would be nice,” she said, just to be polite.

“Let’s get business out of the way first,” Margaret said as she tipped the steaming silver kettle to pour hot water into two cups. “You have my word that Hamish Bellencourt will help set the council straight on whatever fire this group tries to light.”

“I appreciate you saying so,” Effie said. “I suppose I’m a little nervous that there’s still a possibility that he could change his mind and…”

“I’m going to assume you haven’t met Mrs. Bellencourt.”

“No, ma’am.”

“An absolutely abysmal woman. Rude, snooty, and a broomstick shoved so far up her bottom that… Well, you get the idea.”

Effie nodded, understanding it enough.

“They have a relationship built on a foundation of need. She is the head of a major nonprofit. He is, well, a councilman. The status of each only empowers the other. And that is exactly where their relationship ends. There is no romance. There is no sex. And if he were to mutter the words ‘diaper me’ to her, she’d likely burn the entire city down as to eradicate any record of him having said it. In other words - Hammy needs me, and he cannot live without me. If I told him to go to a council meeting and tell them that the sky was green, he would do it - all the while daydreaming of getting his next dirty diaper changed.”

This was enough of a convincing argument for Effie.

Margaret placed the cup of tea down in front of her. “I have to say, I’m very happy that you’re here and that you’ve come around. Now then. I’m thinking that we’d start with you pulling your pants down and then crawling over my lap so that I could paddle you.”

--

“So how off base would I be if I asked you where you were last night?”

Even though Syd had seemed pleasant and in good spirits when they first came by the house this morning, Harper could tell that something was off. They seemed bothered or annoyed.

Harper was tempted to pry a little - as she would’ve if it had been Layne with a little pout on his face. But she thought she’d give them some space. Let them come to her with the issue if they needed to.

And they had, as it turned out. Within minutes of arriving at the house, Syd had launched into the bee in their bonnet.

“Are you...jealous? Suspicious? Help me out here.”

Syd stroked their hair - the meaning of which was still a mystery to Harper. “Sorry, I don’t want to sound crazy. I just texted you a few times last night and I didn’t hear from you. And I guess I… No, no, this is on me. I think I’ve just had bad experiences in the past. I don’t want to accuse you of doing something wrong.”

“I was with Layne last night,” Harper said.

Syd seemed unsure how to react to that, which made sense to Harper. In the relatively short time they’ve known each other, she had never really spent any time with Layne.

“Oh,” they finally said.

“We got to talking, and then we ended up taking a trip to the store so I could help with a project there.”

“I’m so sorry,” Syd said. “Here I am, practically accusing you of cheating on me with...your husband. God, I feel terrible.”

Harper sighed. There was obviously more to the story, and now she was the one who was feeling terrible. “Actually, no. I think I need to tell you everything.”

“Everything?”

“It’s not...bad. Per se.”

“Per se,” Syd repeated, clearly not liking the sound of that.

“Layne and I, we have  - we had? - this special kind of relationship for a long time. One that, you know, kind of turned into a business.”

“The diapers and all that?”

“Right. And, I don’t know, you and I had talked about it the other day. And then Layne and I were talking last night and I think we both just got hit with this wave of nostalgia. We wanted this...thing. This little ritual that we used to share.”

“So you guys did that sort of stuff? Diapers and baby-things?”

Harper sighed and nodded.

Syd didn’t seem to know what to make of that. They stood there in silence for a few moments while they stared off into space. There were a few times that Harper wanted to say something - chime in with more details. As if there was a way to make ‘I made my separated husband come inside of a diaper last night’ sound non-threatening.

“What does this mean? Are you two getting back together? Like, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Syd, I know this doesn’t make an especially compelling argument for the fact that our marriage is over, but...I think I know more than ever how sure I am about that.”

Syd scoffed. “I honestly have no clue what I’m supposed to think right now. I’m hearing: ‘Yeah, after putting my hands all over my ex-husband - while participating in our very intimate mutual kink - I realized that I didn’t want to be with him anymore?’”

“It sounds kind of crazy when you say it out loud,” Harper said, scratching her head. “But yeah.”

They threw their arms up in an exaggerated shrug.

“I want to live in a world where - even after our divorce - we’re still friends,” she said. “Friends with...strange benefits, I guess. Is that asking too much?”

She watched Syd process what she said, before finally exhaling slowly - releasing some built--up pressure within. “I guess it’d be a strange new world for all of us. But it means a lot to me that you’re saying this now, as opposed to months down the road.”

“I think honesty is pretty cool,” Harper said.

“Is Layne on the same page?”

“I gave him the book. Whether or not he read it is up to him.”

Syd laughed, seeming to lose some of the flustered edge they had before. This came as a relief to Harper.

“You know...if it’s a matter of wanting to, uh, be in a particular role...I’m game.”

Harper’s eyebrows raised.

“I don’t want that to come off wrong,” Syd quickly added. “I’m not saying that I want you to replace Layne with me. Or that you can’t have...whatever it is with him too. But. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me. And I’m curious.”

“Genuinely curious?”

“Genuinely curious.”

“That makes me happy,” Harper said.

“So. When do you think we’ll get around to it?” asked Syd. “Soon?”

--

He was conflicted on how he felt about the days he was running the store by himself. He had done it for so long, pre-Effie, that it wasn’t an especially difficult thing. But he did like the company. Even - though he likely wouldn’t ever say it to her - Effie’s company.

But these were also days for quiet contemplation, singing out loud to the radio without judgment, and ordering something ridiculous for lunch.

These were also days he had to answer the phone.

“Yeah, uh, do you like, uhm, sell...adult diapers? But, like, uhm, for...adult babies? With, like, colorful designs and stuff”

“What is the absorbency of the Mermaid Girls versus the Carnivals?”

“What kind of diaper should I get if I want to poop my pants?”

It was days like these he felt bad for Effie having to field these questions on the days she was here. He wondered how she answered them, or if she answered them at all.

“Mr. Stanlan?”

He had answered the phone in a sleepy deadpan, not expecting to recognize the voice on the other end. “Grace?”

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“You bother me by calling me Mr. Stanlan instead of just Layne. Otherwise, you’re not a bother.”

“If I could just have a moment of your time.”

He looked around the quiet store. “You may have as many moments as you’d like.”

“I was doing some...research.”

He laughed, being reminded of what he had given her when she was last at the store - and the guise under which he had given it to her.

“And how is that going?”

“I don’t think I’m very good at it,” she said, sounding exasperated. She almost seemed out of breath, speaking on the phone now just after having exerted herself in some way.

“I’m not sure if it’s the sort of thing you can be bad at,” Layne said. “We’re talking about the diaper, right? You can say ‘diaper.’ But if that is what we’re talking about, I’d say the only way that you could do it wrong would be if it was on your head. And even then...I’ve been there before, and it wasn’t that bad.”

“These tapes are all crooked,” she said. “The whole thing looks lopsided. It’s not on very tight, either, I feel like it could fall off at any moment. And I had tried to adjust one of the tapes, but I guess it’s pretty sticky and it just ended up pulling a little hole in the diaper as I pulled at it. The whole thing is kind of a mess, really.”

“Okay, well, none of those things seem that important.”

“No?”

“All possible user-errors aside, do you like it? Do you like how it feels on you? Do you like how it makes you feel?”

She sighed, a little bit of a hum mixed in for good measure. “Do I have to say?”

“No, I guess not. I mean, I’d love to know the answer. But it’s probably more important that at least you know the answer.”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t really know what you, or CALM, think it is that our store does, but I hope this is a small glimpse into the truth. We’re not dangerous predators, nor are we encouraging shady behavior. I’m selling escape. From adulthood. From reality. Do you feel like you’re escaping right now?”

“Escaping my sanity, maybe,” Grace quipped.

“Sure, sure. It’s all very silly and weird.”

“I fear that I’m not doing it right,” she said again. “But I don’t dislike it.”

“That makes me incredibly happy to hear.”

“I thought you would. If you’re going to go and touch yourself now while thinking about me wearing a diaper, I don’t want you to tell me.”

“Ms. Vander-frog, do you have reason to believe that I would be attracted to such a thing? To you?”

“Well…”

“Or, is it that you have thought about me wearing a diaper?”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“Your silence is incriminating. Surely that must come up once in a while in your profession.”

She laughed, a nervous and uncertain laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “Guilty as charged.”

“So, you don’t have to give me an answer right away - maybe think this over a little bit. But, if you really want to, uh, research this subject, I think I could arrange for you to get some real hands-on experience. We’re talking a guided one-on-one tour of all things regression. You’d be diapered and swaddled by the very best in the business.”

“The very best? You’re not very modest, are you?”

“Oh, I’m not talking about me.”

“No?”

“But she’s an exceptional Mommy. And I feel the odds are good that she’d be willing to show a new baby the ropes.”

“Just days ago,” she said, “I stormed into your store and suggested that it be obliterated from the city. And today you’re trying to convince me to be treated like a baby at the hands of a stranger?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Please do. Feel free to call back whenever you’d like. I’ll be around.”

--

“You have [ONE] new voice mail message.”

“10:47 PM: Uh, hi. This message is for Mr. Stanlan? Er, Layne? This is Grace Vanderhoeffen, following up on a conversation we had earlier today. The answer is yes. I am interested in taking you up on your offer.”

“There are no new voice mail messages in your voice mail box.”