Bottoms Up, Part 12 (Patreon)

Twelve: Gin

Somewhere else, Effie was imagining herself tightly wrapping a diaper around Layne’s face until he was no longer able to breathe.

But the truth was that she was a little more upset at herself. She felt like a fool. It could’ve been worse - at least she was the only one who knew she was a fool - but that didn’t make her feel much better about it. She had sacrificed and made herself incredibly vulnerable for the sake of Layne and the store. And how could she not have seen this coming? Of course Layne would stumble into an answer on his own. Such was the Layne Stanlan Story.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything to Layne as she stormed from the store. She probably didn’t actually want to have to look for a new job. And so that meant calling Layne back tomorrow and apologizing.

Her imagined diaper-strangulation intensified.

She needed someone to talk to. But someone who could understand where she was coming from. Someone who wouldn’t divert the conversation the moment that Effie brought up the fact that she had expelled an enema into a diaper.

And there was only one person that she could call.

--

The fact that she had crumbled so easily suggested that she never had that tight of a grasp in her beliefs in the first place.

When she traced back through her relatively short tenure with CALM, she saw herself rising to the role of spokesperson only on account of the fact that nobody else wanted it. CALM hadn’t been about action previously - it had been a breeding ground for frustration and contempt. Someone would complain about something, rile everybody up, and then they’d start showing up in local government assemblies.

For a while, it made complete sense to Grace because she was caught in the echo chamber.

But, wouldn’t you know it, this guy - who she once referred to as a diaper-peddler - would crack open the lid to the echo chamber by just asking a few basic questions.

It was just a little personal crisis. Who am I? What do I believe in? Etc.

And there she was, once again in the parking lot of Bottoms Up. It’d be the third time she’d walk into that store. She’d never admit aloud how many more times she had just sat in the parking lot after hours, staring up at the building. It was a strange temple that hosted a group of people who were willing and ready to sacrifice all of their adult-ly agencies for the sake of feeling things that society strongly discourages.

That certainly didn’t seem so bad.

If there were creeps and monsters who bought things in Bottoms Up, she figured the ratio was no different than the number of creeps who were shopping at the local grocery store or, hell, an ice cream stand.

All that to say - she had wet herself while wearing a diaper and she was rather fond of it.

This wasn’t completely unexpected. The night after her lunch with Layne at The Schoolhouse, she fell down a wine-fueled rabbit hole of videos and stories. And for as much as it pained her to admit it, she didn’t hate what she saw.

The moment she had gone into Bottoms Up and mentioned the word ‘research’ to Layne, she could see what would happen next. And she was right - she came home with a diaper. She put on the diaper - poorly, but she still did it. She wet the diaper. She...really enjoyed that diaper.

And now for the return to that temple. She had been telling herself, most of the day, that this would still be research. She was still tallying up positives and negatives, as if it mattered when she picked the arbitrary moment when ‘research’ ended.

This wasn’t research anymore. She didn’t know what it was, but it probably didn’t matter.

The first thing she observed, as she walked to the front door of the shop, was that there were two people on the salesfloor - neither of which she knew. She could deduce that one was the supposed ‘Mommy’ promised by Layne, but the other was a complete unknown. It made her a little nervous. Was this not the private introduction to babyhood she thought she was getting?

The woman inside yelled something back to the stockroom before charging forward to unlock the front door.

“Hi, you must be Layne’s friend?” the woman asked.

“Is that how he’s described me?” responded Grace.

“I might be putting words in his mouth. But we wouldn’t be here if he didn’t like you.”

“I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Hi Grace. I’m Harper, I’m Layne’s...uh…”

“She’s his wife,” said the other person, the one with the semi-purpled hair. “And we all agree that it’s weird, but it probably won’t be the weirdest thing that happens today.”

“Oh,” Grace said, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her. “I had no idea that…”

“Seperated,” Harper said. “But friendly. At least for the past week we have been. Oh, and behind me, here, is Syd. They’re my current partner.”

Syd looked to be blushing a little. Swooning too, Grace thought - but that was just speculation.

“That was the first time you called me that,” they said.

“Is it?” The two squealed in glee.

In the back of the room, at the window in the swinging doors that lead back to the stockroom, there’s another feminine face - the other employee of the store. Her cheeks look excessively red - though it’s hard to say if she actually saw that or not in the moment the face is there. The face is gone as quickly as Grace sees it.

“How many people are actually going to be here?” she asks the other two.

“Just you and me,” Harper says. “And Syd. And Layne.”

“Effie isn’t staying?” Syd asked.

“I doubt it,” Harper said. “She’s not really into this stuff at all.”

“I guess that’s already more people than I anticipated,” Grace said, almost feeling bad that she was interrupting the banter between Syd and Harper.

“Layne will not be an active participant,” Harper said. “In fact, I’m going to ask him to go get us some dinner later so that he’s out of our way. Do you like Indian?”

Grace just nodded politely, for lack of desire in getting too off topic in a discussion about the Indian meals she did and didn’t like.

“Oh, and there’s me,” Syd said, seeming to remember that they had yet to reveal how they played into this. “I’m, uh, also getting indoctrinated into the baby cult tonight.”

“So you’re not alone,” Harper quickly added, as if swallowing up any potential silence would prevent Grace from second-guessing herself.

“That sounds nice, actually.”

“Yeah? Are you sure?” Harper asked.

Grace nodded again.

The swinging doors opened, and Layne entered the salesfloor. Everyone else - in various stages of knowing him at all - could tell that he was trying to look happier than he was actually feeling.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Harper said, playing a drum roll on her air-drums, “our sponsor for this evening.”

“Our figurative Daddy to your Mommy?” Syd asked.

“No,” Harper quickly said. “He’s no Daddy. He’s just a…”

“Can I get y’all anything to drink?” Layne asked. “I have some water in the back. Maybe soda? I definitely have at least half a bottle of gin. But it’s cheap gin, so don’t get too excited.”

“Alcohol?” Harper asked Syd and Grace. “Would that help?”

“Probably,” said Syd.

Grace just nodded.

“We’ll take three glasses of your finest gin, my good man.”

“I have two coffee mugs…”

“Just bring out the damn bottle. We’ll share.”

--

Somewhere else, Effie had placed a call.

“You know, I was spending some time with Baby Hammy this morning. And I was very clear about the stances he’d need to take in his upcoming council meetings. He was, I must say, very receptive to them.”

“Oh?” Effie couldn’t bring herself to tell Margaret the truth. And even if she could’ve, she still might not have.

“It was easier than I thought it’d be,” Margaret said. “I simply dangled the key to his chastity cage over the toilet.”

“When can I see you again?” Effie asked.

Margaret offered a single shrill “Ha!” in response. And for a moment or two, that was it. She eventually followed it with: “I knew that you enjoyed it - it was quite obvious. But I didn’t think I was going to be hearing from you again.”

“No?”

“You’re prideful. Well, when you’re not in a diaper, at least. We had completed our transaction, and regardless of how much you liked it, I suspected that I wouldn’t hear from you again.”

“I want to see you again,” Effie said. Margaret hadn’t been wrong about anything she had just said. She had convinced herself that she probably wasn’t going to call Margaret again. But that was before her little explosion at the shop.

“You do realize I charge my little babies for my time, yes?”

“Do I need to pay to see you again? Because…I would.”

“No, my darling Buttercup. I wouldn’t charge you a penny.”

--

“The thing about hypnosis is that the recipient has to want the effects of it, right? You will never be hypnotized if you stubbornly reject it. The more you allow yourself to be affected by it, the more you’ll get out of it.”

“Are you a hypnotist too?” asked Syd.

“It’s somewhere on my kink bucket list,” Harper said with a shrug. “But I may have spent time with a hypnotist once or twice. The point I’m trying to make is that this really isn’t that different. You get out of this what you put into it. If you go into it thinking that you’re going to hate it, you’re probably going to hate it. I can’t magically make you embrace diapers if you don’t want to.”

Syd and Grace both nodded. The bottle of gin had made its way around their little circle a few times. It was just as bad as Layne had warned them it would be. But the stinging warmth in their bellies was also a little comforting. It was a shared stinging warmth.

“This might all be pretty obvious, but let’s just get the important stuff out of the way. We can all agree that whatever happens here stays here? Between us?”

“Yes,” said Grace.

“Of course,” said Syd.

“And, look, we’re going to be getting pretty, uh, intimate with each other. Clothes are coming off. I’m going to see all your bits. And, you know, I’ve seen some of the bits in this room. Some I have not. I just want to make sure we’re all good with that.”

“I’m good with that,” Syd said. “I’ll take off my pants right now if you want me to.”

“Grace?”

Grace sighed before shrugging and laughing. “You know…I’m already here. I’m already...invested. So, yeah. Whatever you need from me.”

“Any questions before we get started?”

Syd turned to Grace. “Care to make a friendly bet?”

“A bet?”

“We see who uses their diaper first?”

Grace laughed again, blushing a little. “When you say ‘use’ you mean…”

“Well, pissing yourself, I think,” Syd said. “But, I mean, bonus points for making a truly epic mess for Harper to clean up.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harper said.

“I don’t think I’m quite there yet,” Grace said. “Though, when you say ‘uses their diaper first,’ is that person the winner or the loser?”

“Uh, winner,” Syd said.

Grace blushed a little while nodding at these terms, though not entirely believing that being first made anyone a ‘winner’ or ‘loser.’

“Look,” Harper said, clapping her hands together. “Anything in the store. Anything you want. Onesies. Dresses. Pacifiers. Particular diaper style. Whatever you want to try, we’ll try it. We good? We ready to go?”

She was met with mostly-assured nods. Which was good enough.

--

Somewhere else, Layne was watching alt-rock music videos from his youth on his phone while he ate cookies at his desk in the stockroom. He didn’t actually believe he’d get to be up close and personal to the action, but he didn’t think that he’d be dismissed. Now he just waited until they needed something.

He wasn’t really watching the videos though, they were just distracting noises and lights. His cock was throbbing, thinking of Harper babying the two guests. He was jealous. Jealous that he wasn’t right there with them. He was so close - he could hear the murmur of their conversations.

Really, he was jealous that he might not get to see the end results.

--

“Who’s first?” asked Harper.

“You?” asked Grace, finger pointed to Syd.

“Yeah, me, I guess,” replied Syd with a shrug.

“I think there are some diapers in the Nursery already,” Harper said. “But if there’s anything special you want we could go and grab some.”

“No, that’s okay,” Syd said. “I’m not sure that I care much about aesthetics right now.”

“Suit yourself. C’mon, baby.”

Syd blushed, and then Grace blushed - a second-hand blush from the knowledge that she’d be ‘baby’ next. Syd followed Grace into the small room and the door closed behind them.

Grace was tempted to meander across the stockroom to talk to Layne, but she stopped herself. She was here for, if not ‘research,’ herself. She liked Layne. Liked? Well, she felt some sort of way about him. But she also wondered if she felt the same way about Layne as she felt about a fast food hamburger on a day where she had somehow been too busy for breakfast and lunch. It was probably the most appetizing thing in the world, as anything else would’ve been if she looked a little more.

She had been single for a long time. So long, in fact, that this was just The Way it Was. She worked a lot, and when she wasn’t working, she was volunteering. Or taking care of her mother. Or neglecting herself. Usually at the same time. The concept of romance sounded nice, but it also felt like a lot of work. Dates and texting etiquettes and whatnot. And here was the diaper-peddler, plopping right into her lap. And he had been, mostly, nice to her. Patient, at the very least.

Grace wondered what would’ve happened if her band of angry citizens had targeted a store that sold costumes to those people who dressed up like animals and had sex with each other...or whatever it was that they did. Would she have developed a crush on a guy who dressed like a bobcat at night? Would she be waiting for his wife to put a dog mask on her?

No, diapers seemed good. Somewhere in her skull there were reasons for that. Old memories and triggered nerves that made the concept of diapers resonate more. Someday she’d dig into that a little, but the reasons seemed unimportant now.

She tried to imagine what it was like on the other side of the closed door. It made her excited. It made her wet in a way nothing had in a while. She even, briefly, contemplated, fleeing the building and getting back into her car to drive away. The obvious stimulation was a heavy weight on her, and she feared that Harper wouldn’t like what she saw. Cooler heads prevailed, and she let out some tension with a nice long sigh. Harper probably knew damn well what to expect.

Time passed, and she stared into space while her brain flipped through the channels. She imagined herself getting put into a diaper. She imagined herself wearing the diaper. She imagined what it would be like to squat down and force a poo into the back of her diaper. She imagined needing to stand before CALM to explain why she not only thought that they should drop their protest of Bottoms Up, but that she’d also be stepping away from the group - all while she wore a diaper under her slacks - slowly and steadily wetting them as she talked to everyone.

The door opened and Syd emerged. Near nude, save for a white undershirt and the thick space-themed diaper around her midsection.

“You’re up,” they said with a smile. “Don’t keep Mommy waiting.”

She smiled and nodded politely as she stepped towards the now-open door.

“Are you ready?” asked Harper, stepping out from within the nursery.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Come on in.”

The room looked bigger than she remembered it looking before, in the half-completed state she observed a few days prior. Odd considering that there seemed to be more things in the room now - two people included. With little context for what a proper adult-baby nursery would look like, this seemed to be just about what she had expected. There was the changing table. A well-stocked shelf of diapers, wipes, and other assorted bottles and tubes. The colorful foam flooring. The pastel walls with floating shelves holding things like stuffed animals and pacifiers.

Grace immediately began shimmying out of her pants and panties, letting them slide down her slender legs.

“Oh, we’re not going to waste any time, I see,” said Harper.

“I’m worried that if I give myself a moment to think about it, I’ll freeze up.”

“Fair enough. But we can’t go any further until I look at these.” Harper bent down and plucked Grace’s panties off the ground. A bold royal blue with yellow trim, they featured a single cartoon rubber-ducky on the front of them. “These are very cute. Did you wear these especially for tonight?”

“I...don’t really own many ‘cute’ things,” Grace said. “I had to go buy these at the store today.”

“All that just for them to be replaced by a diaper.”

“I bought them from the, uh, kids section. Honestly, it was the biggest size in that department - which I don’t think is far off from my usual size.”

“Very cute,” said Harper.

“I just thought that…maybe I’d try wearing something more juvenile.”

“I almost hate to see the panties go to waste then. Alas, you’re wearing diapers tonight, because you’re too small for actual panties. Even if that might not actually be too far from the truth.”

This was exactly what Grace wanted - needed - to hear.

“Lie down on the changing table, baby.”

A small “muh” escaped Grace’s lips - an infantile muttering that she didn’t know she was capable of. She stepped atop a small folding stool at the end of the table and climbed onto it, sprawling out onto her back. She had reservations on what the comfort of this table would be, and was pleasantly surprised by the feeling of the thick padding beneath her body as she lay there.

“Someone is very excited to get their first diaper, huh?” asked Harper, looking down between Grace’s legs.

“It would be my...second.”

“Oh?”

“Layne...he gave me one the other day.”

“Ah, I see,” Harper said with a smile. “And you liked it so much that you needed more?”

“I...wasn’t sure if I did it right.”

“I’m not sure that there’s a wrong way to use a diaper.”

Harper put her hand on Grace’s thigh, slowly grazing it across her flesh, slowly sinking into her inner-thigh. Harper watched as Grace started to moan, before biting her lip.

“It made you feel good, right?” Harper asked.

Grace nodded.

“It made you feel so good that you can’t help yourself from dripping all over the changing table now, yes?”

Grace nodded.

“Then I don’t think you did anything wrong. But I do think we can do it better now. Would you like that?”

“Uh huh,” more of a soft moan formed into the shape of words than they were actual words.

Harper’s hand had reached the wetness between Grace’s legs. She carefully ran her fingers up Grace’s labia, catching the moisture on her fingertips.

“Do you see?” asked Harper, showing Grace her glistening fingertips. “This is what being a little baby does to you.”

Grace found her hands reaching up into the air, trying to grasp Harper’s hand. When she grabbed it, she pulled it towards her mouth, licking the fingers clean.

“Well damn,” Harper said. “I can see you’re going to be trouble. Maybe you need some extra reminders of how small you are now.”

Grace cocked her head to the side in curiosity as Harper bent down to the floor. When she popped back up again, she was holding Grace’s little ducky panties. Grace’s eyes grew big, nervous about what Harper was going to do with those. They barely fit her as it was - they wouldn’t fit over the diaper.

Without a word, Harper shoved the panties down the front of Grace’s diaper, tucking it all the way down to the bottom, between her legs.

“There we go, that’s much better. I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to keep your panties dry. It’s a good thing you’re in diapers.”