Clarisse and the Broken Reality

Chapter 1
The only

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Chapter Description: If you go to a cheap clinic for something as simple as a cold, don't be surprised when the medicine has some... unexpected side effects.

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Clarisse sat in the waiting room, hands clutched around a cheap handkerchief in her lap, her eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. Behind the desk, it was fairly obvious the receptionist was playing some sort of game on the little computer, probably solitaire, which because of the relative emptiness of the room, annoyed Clarisse. In fact, she was the only one there. Checking the clock once again, she dabbed at her slightly runny nose with the handkerchief and sighs, wondering how long this is going to take.

Dr. Veronica grinned as she checked her excel sheets one more time. Things were looking good, products were rolling in, and the front was covered. She re-encrypted the files and opened up her calendar, frowning at the appointment. Well, the front had to be maintained... she pressed the com button. "Gloria, send in my 10 o’clock," she said, not bothering to care that it was 10:15. She got up from her desk and went to the examination room adjourning her office, putting on her ’doctor coat’.

Gloria didn’t even get up or look over at the girl in the waiting room. "She’ll see you, first door on your left," she said with a slight head motion to indicate the direction. She was doing pretty good at Bejeweled and didn’t want to lose her score.

With a little bit of a start at the sudden interruption in the otherwise silent room, Clarisse stands and gives a little nod, dabbing again at her nose. "Thanks." she says, though it’s a dead sort of sarcastic tone. She stepped through the doors and looked at the door with ’Examination Room A’ on the door, swallows and sniffles, and then opens the door, poking her head in to see if anyone is already in. Spotting the doctor, she stepped in fully, putting on her best business smile.

"Hello! Thanks for taking the time to see me. I hope this isn’t a big issue or something more serious, heh."

"Sorry about the wait this morning, and no trouble at all. I’m always happy to bring in new clientele," she motions for Clarisse to sit in a chair next to the table and pulls herself a rolling chair to sit in across from her, grabbing a clipboard. "All right, let’s get down to it, what’s brought you in today?"

The young professional takes the offered seat, feeling a bit better about this than she had been while sitting out in the lobby, and smiles. “Well," she starts, "I wasn’t too worried at first, but it’s been about three months now and I just can’t seem to get rid of this cold. It’s all runny nose and watery eyes and feeling tired all the time. I manage with the off-the-shelf stuff, but it just isn’t going away."

"Hmm... well has this led to sore throat at all? Fevers? Do you find its worse when you’re outside or sitting around at home?" She goes on with a few similar questions, trying to narrow things down. She is a licensed doctor, but even as she spoke she was already analyzing what ’medicines’ she could prescribe for this kind of problem. "Why don’t you lift your shirt a little, I want to take your vitals, make sure this phlegm problem isn’t causing any breathing issues."

The girl blinks, not expecting to be barraged by all of these questions, but she tries to keep up as best she can. "Uhm, no, none of that, really. It’s not any worse or better when I’m outside or inside, though sometimes it gets worse on the weekends." she explains, slowly un-tucking her blouse and raising it just enough to expose her midriff.

Dr. Veronica gets out her stethoscope and tries not to look bored as she goes through the song and dance routine. "Deep breathe, let it out... does it hurt to take a deep breath?" and a few other questions. After ten minutes of questions and non-invasive checks, she reviews her clipboard.

"Well, from what I can see it might just be an allergy or some lingering cold your body hasn’t been able to flush out yet. I’m going to write you a prescription for some basic anti-biotic, they should hopefully help your body get over the problem. It also might not hurt to give your home a good spring cleaning, get all the high dust and what not." she says scribbling some eligible notes on a prescription pad. "If you don’t have medical insurance, we can sell you the medicine here from my small pharmacy in the back. We don’t mark up so with most we can get you them wholesale."

Clarisse’s frown at the idea of having to shell out for a prescription suddenly changes as the mention of wholesale comes up, and she smiles brightly.

"Oh, really? Yeah, I just started my job here about half a year ago, and my insurance hasn’t fully kicked in yet. I’ve got some cash, but if you’re not charging any overhead, that would be really helpful." she chirps, looking over the pad to see if she can make out what exactly she’s being prescribed, but the handwriting is nearly illegible.

Dr. Veronica nods. "No problem, let me go fill the prescription and I’ll meet you back in the waiting room. It’ll be good for two weeks, but I want you to call again, no charge, so we can discuss if you’re doing any better. At the end of two weeks, and things are good, then we’ll just see each other again for your 6 month regular checkup." she said smiling, before opening the door for Clarisse and heading down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Her business was small, and on the ground level. She actually had more office then it looked like she had. The second exam room had a utility closet, which actually led to another small hallway with three doors in it. Two for ’overnight’ treatment, and the last for her more interesting ’pharmacy’. She let herself into the utility closet where some basic and normal medicines were, and then let herself into the other room, which from the way the closet was position looked sort of like it was going into the other exam room, but wasn’t. She hadn’t had an overnight patient for ’study’ in a little while, but she was fairly certain it wouldn’t be long. She checked her shelves...

She put on gloves, took out a sealed container and a small prescription bottle. She printed out a label for some mundane anti-biotic and then measured out a very careful amount of pills containing something she’d recently been asked to field test. The pill was an immune booster, but also a mild psychotropic that when taken in larger doses could induce hallucinations... not to mention an inability to retain water. Its effects were listed as ’mild’ as her medicines went, but the pills could be addictive, which was her favorite selling word. She bottled it up, put it in a paper bag, and closed the doors, heading back to the waiting room.

"Here you go, that’ll be $17. Take one at night, before bed. It can cause drowsiness, so no driving after you’ve taken one of these. Understood?"

Clarisse looks over the bottle and the little pills inside, nodding slowly. "Right, at night, no driving. Shouldn’t be a problem, I don’t have time for a social life these days anyway..." she mutters the last bit a little bitterly, then lets out a sigh. "You don’t have something that could be used during the day, though? I guess I can keep chugging day-quill." Then she seems to think about what she’s said, "Oh, is there any sort of things I should avoid while taking this stuff?"

"Drink lots of liquids, sleep more if you can afford the hours, and get some regular vitamins. Its standard fare really. Remember, I want a call after a week. Let me know how your cold is doing," she nods politely, and mentally makes a note to order a few more stock items to have ready.

With a good amount of thanks, Clarisse hands over a check for the drugs and the appointment before heading out the door, pocketing the pills and returning to work for the rest of the day. Later that evening, never being one to disobey a doctor’s orders, she takes out the little bottle and takes a couple of the pills and a large glass of water. With a deep breath and a little prayer of hope for getting over this god-forsaken cold, she downs them and continues going about her evening pre-bed routine.

Dr. Veronica does a bit of careful research that evening, checking up on Clarisse’s medical history and background. She was fairly well connected and it wouldn’t be too hard to find her Facebook, linked in and other business profile sights for a young professional. In particular, she wanted to hone in certain traits, such as how eager to please she was, how willing to self-indulge and she was happy that all signs pointed to her being more the shy type.

Checking her supplies, Dr. Veronica made an order for some adult sized ’youth’ briefs. They were a little expensive, but it’d have the best affect and she could sell them at a loss to her newest patient when she invariably came back. Part of her success as a doctor was knowing when to put a little money in, to get quite a bit more back.

It isn’t until about, say, three in the morning that Clarisse is woken up by a small tapping sound somewhere in her apartment. As she opens her eyes, the whole room seems to be tilting gently to one side, and there’s a steady drip of water coming from her apartment’s ceiling just over her bed, tapping loudly on her sheets. Woozily, she tries to roll over to figure out what’s going on, but things just don’t seem quite right. There’s a chipmunk sitting on one pillow next to her head, startling her immensely. Eyes flying open, the young professional jerks up in bed, breathing heavily and looking around wildly, the sounds of her alarm clock warning her of time to get out of bed, and no chipmunks to be seen, and the room seems to have returned to its previous orientation. The only remnant of what she can only describe as a very lucid dream is the wet spot on her bed from the dripping water, but from the size of the ’spot’ and its location, it’s fairly obvious that it isn’t water.

The rest of the day at work was fairly... weird as well. Clarisse had to send off a short email before she got even herself cleaned up, letting the office know that she’d likely be in a bit late due to personal matters, hoping no one would pry too deeply into the ’matters’. Getting cleaned up was an embarrassing affair, but halfway through her shower it occurred to her that her nose wasn’t quite as drippy as it had been, so there was at least some positive to come out of this whole affair.

Work itself seemed to be rather mundane, though a couple of times she could have sworn her phone was ringing, but was just a dial tone when picked up, or there was that weird email that vanished out of her inbox before she could check it. By the end of the day, ’annoyed’ wasn’t even the half of it, and Clarisse unloaded on Facebook immediately upon getting home, but ended her post on a high note of "Maybe tomorrow will be better." before numbing her mind on some television before taking her medicine for the night and wrapping herself up in some clean sheets.

Dr. Veronica did a casual check on Clarisse’s Facebook account laughing a little at her post, poor girl didn’t have a good handle on privacy settings. Still, it provided some interesting insight if she read between the lines. The medicine appeared to be working, and with that, she would have to shape the dosage much more carefully next time. According to what her supplier told her, it could adjusted to induce certain effects when cut right, and Dr. Veronica already had some interesting thoughts in her head on how she could sell off the results.

Later that night Clarisse found herself sleeping a bit deeper than the night before, although at one point she thought she might have woken up, she wasn’t entirely sure, she felt a little flushed, and rolling over, she fell out of bed... at least she thought she did. Clarisse realized she was up, and oddly, had nodded off at a business meeting... she wasn’t sure the company, but it made sense that she was there. She had an armload of print outs and everyone was looking expectantly at her as she stood before everyone else.

The girl quickly looked down at the papers in her arms, trying to figure out what she was supposed to be speaking on, and not getting anything from the esoteric title of the presentation, she cleared her throat. "Ahem. Ladies and Gentlemen, I first want to uh, thank you, for uh.. coming out to my presentation on..." and she looked at the papers again, which somehow seemed unreadable. "The topic at hand. I’d first like to start out by asking if anyone at the table has any preconceptions about what we’re doing here, and if so to bring them up so that I’m not just repeating what everyone might already know?"

A faceless woman spoke without raising her hand in a fairly booming voice. "What a sweet girl, yes, I think she’ll be perfect for that position, in fact, do we have anything in upper management?" There was a chorus of approvals and even a light applause... the only problem was Clarisse was suddenly feeling the effects of the water she’d drank before bed.

With a gracious smile, Clarisse decides that perhaps a joke is the best way out of this odd situation. "Uh, right, with a private executive restroom, eh?" she chuckles and looks towards the door of the board room. "Speaking of, if you all need time to discuss this sort of decision, I’ll just step out for a moment." She took a few steps towards the door, keeping her ’best polite smile’ plastered on, despite the quickly growing desperation.

Hurrying out of the room, Clarisse was seized up by a rather sharp sense of pleasure, running up from her toes and traveling all the way up her body till it caused her eyes to roll up and her body to crumple to the floor, the conference room disappearing, and everything going to a hazy black as she slept through the rest of the night... and her desperation.

Still feeling the pleasure released during the dream, Clarisse opens her eyes and stretches in the morning sun, aware after a moment that her alarm clock isn’t going off. Lazily, she rolls over and looks at the clock with a small smile on her lips and a tingle across her whole body, and she sees that it’s still thirty minutes or so before the alarm would go off.

Sighing and closing her eyes again to try and keep that strange, pleasurable sensation going, she shudders as the mild tingling takes on a much more warm and distinct center, a gentle cascade of warmth across her upper thigh and pool-- wait, what? Quickly she sits up and clamps down, stopping the unwanted release from her bladder into her bed, and realizing that once again she was waking up to a wet bed. So much for her euphoric high, but then again, waking up that way made this not seem so bad, but she would definitely have to call that doctor as soon as she had a chance to see if there were any side effects to that medicine that she wasn’t told about.

On the plus side, given how early she had woken up this morning, Clarisse didn’t have to send an email in to work or go in late while she cleaned up her embarrassing mess, and on the train ride into the city, she used her phone to put in a same-day delivery from a local store for some of those bed pad things. By the time she gets to the office, that pleasurable feeling from earlier in the morning is definitely starting to fade away, leaving her anxious and nervous.

Oddly, toward the end of the day, Dr. Veronica gave Clarisse a call, figuring it might be a little early, but with no post to go off of the night before, she had a good idea on how to draw out a little information.

"H... hello?" Clarisse asked, not recognizing the number, but actually surprised that it wasn’t just a dead line this time. Again, ringing phones, vanishing emails, notes not taken, and co-workers asking questions and then not remembering them. Slowly, Clarisse thought she was either very forgetful, or losing her mind.

"Hi Clarisse, this is Dr. V, I wanted to call and check up on you. I know I said a week, but since we weren’t completely clear on what was happening and today being a slow day at my office, I thought I’d ring you up. Have your symptoms gotten any better?"

It takes her a moment, but Clarisse realizes that, yes, her cold had started to clear up some today, and she hadn’t gone through half a box of Kleenexes during the course of the day. "Oh, well, the initial symptoms are getting better, yes..." She says quietly, looking around the office and spotting some people still working. "Look, Doctor, can I call you back or come in for an appointment sooner than a week? Maybe tomorrow morning early?" she asks, almost pleading, "There’s some complications I want to talk about, but I’m still sort of at work..."

"Clarisse, if there are complications, then this is important. Please, your health isn’t something you can hold off. What’s happening? Do you have any inflammation anywhere?" she asks, pressing the issue.

Clarisse shakes her head, though there’s no way the doctor could see it, "No, nothing like that. Look, I’d really like to discuss this in person, not over the phone." she says, biting her lip and hoping that she can get an appointment as soon as possible.

"I’m not available for another two days. Right now I’m available, and I’m on the phone, find a bathroom if you must, but I’d like to talk about this now. Let me help you, I am your Doctor," she said still more insistent. On the other end she was smiling.

Clarisse sighs, and looks around, spotting a small conference room that was open at this time in the afternoon, and she quickly ducks inside, closing the windows and door, locking it just in case. "Okay..." she says, then sinks into one of the chairs and explains the problem. “The last couple of nights I’ve been having very lucid, strange dreams, accompanied by... well, uh... Nocturnal bladder releases, I guess you could say." she says, her cheeks burning at the admission, "And I think I’ve been seeing and hearing things during the day, but that might just be me being way over worked."

Dr. Veronica sat up. "Seeing and hearing things during the day? Like physical manifestations?" she said making a note on her clipboard. "Those are a bit more worrisome... the nocturnal ’releases’ are most likely the stress, maybe the dreams too, but can’t be sure... you know what? This is too important to wait, if you’re available, let’s get you in here tonight, or tomorrow. I can hold irregular hours if you can make it."

Clarisse frowned into her phone receiver, but slowly nodded. "Well, even if I were to leave now, with traffic and the like, it’d be at least seven before I got to your office. Are you sure you can’t work me in early in the morning tomorrow? I’ll go out if you think it’s really important..." she is already typing up a message to Facebook regarding the day’s events, stating at the end that the doctor is worried about ’Certain Complications’.

"Tomorrow, first thing then. I’ll be in early." Dr. Veronica said penning the appointment. "Keep up with the medicine tonight, lots of fluids, has it at least been beneficial to your cold?"

"Yes, that part’s going well, thanks. It’s just this other that I’m worried about. First thing in the morning, yes, thank you Doctor." Clarisse hung up, and slumped back in the chair, longing a little for that bit of pleasure she had first thing that morning, and with a long sigh she stands and makes her way home.

The train ride is too long, and bus ride feels even longer, and by the time she gets back to her apartment, she’s so out of it that she nearly trips over the small box in front of her door. Dragging the package inside, she first covers her bed with a pair of the absorbent pads, frowning at the large dark stain on the mattress before putting more clean sheets on the bed. After that, she makes herself a sandwich, eyes drawn as she eats at her little island bar to the small bottle of pills nearby. Maybe they were responsible for her strange pleasure, and they were at least drowsiness inducing, so despite probably her better judgment, and looking for a little ’pick me up’, Clarisse downs a dose and a half of them before curling up on the couch for the evening.

The medicine put her to sleep on the couch, knocking her out heavy in just a short span of time. She swam in darkness and pleasant sleep for a little while, before slowly dreaming of herself... in a classroom this time... unlike any classroom she’d ever seen before. There were juvenile pictures on the wall, and the ceiling seemed way above her.

She was standing in this strange classroom, naked from the waist down, before her, and before the chalkboard were 4 colorful children’s potties and very tall woman whose face was obscured by the shadow of her long curly hair. “Sit down this instant Clarisse!" she commanded in a booming voice to the pants less girl.

Terrified at this turn of events, the whole thing feeling as real as anything else, even down to the feeling of the floor beneath her bare feet, Clarisse nearly jumped onto one of the potty chairs, cringing a bit at the tone. "Wh.. what’s going on here? What’s this all about?" She demanded, trying to keep her voice steady and assertive as she’d been taught in business school. “I want to know who you are. Where am I?" She kept on, her voice getting stronger as she kept talking, though her bottom stayed plastered to the plastic seat.

The woman said something but it came out garbled as she explained where they were and Clarisse’s reason for being there, but then as if someone were tuning the radio it came in clear. “And that’s why you’re going to get a little placement test..." before going fuzzy again. With the water she drank while downing the pill, she did need to pee, and the woman came to stand right over her, pointing at her watch and mumbling something again before it clarified, "15 minutes, you are going to sit there for 15 minutes, and we shall test to see how good a girl you are."

Clarisse raised a hand to her ear, trying to see if she was just not hearing correctly, or if something was causing interference. "I’m sorry, what? What am I supposed to do? I don’t get it." she says, starting to feel a bit frustrated and exasperated with this. It felt so real, but somehow she knew this couldn’t be anything other than a dream, but her dreams rarely felt this physically raw. "Just tell me what I need to do and let me go. I have to get to bed and wake up early for an appointment."

Looking around the woman was gone, but on the board, in morphing chalk letters was a 15 minute timer, cycling down just past 14:35 now. A seat belt flew over her tummy, holding her down to the plastic potty, the other three still visible as she sat at the front of the class... seemingly alone... until she heard a soft noise. Just over her shoulder a half dozen feathers fluttered on an invisible breeze, coming to dance slightly in the air before her.

Pulling lightly at the ’belt’, the young professional shakes her head. "This isn’t real. This can’t be real..." she repeats to herself, though her eyes track the feathers as they flutter around in the room. "And that can’t happen because this isn’t real."

One of the feathers floats toward her side, flipping and brushing against her, another shoots right between her legs, to flutter around in the pot below her... and tickle up at the spots just above it.

With a loud squeal, Clarisse tries to bat at the feathers, grabbing the one on her side, and reaching between her thighs to try and grab at the one below, but her hand can’t fit between the rim of the training potty and her own body, so instead she simply clenches her thighs together to prevent any access, to little avail. "Nnnnn! Cut that out!" she cries out, squirming on the seat as much as the restraint will let her, though the tickling in such a sensitive area is eliciting a dual response in her, one a growing urge and clenching of her bladder, the other a growing pleasure that seems to be building up slowly towards the same level of euphoria as the previous night. "Stop! Please, let me go! I don’t want.... This..."

The other feathers just swirl around her, not attempting to go for her sides or other visible areas as she already got one of them... but the one inside the pot continued to merrily flip about, teasing and tickling, fiendishly working on her. The chalkboard clock was barely at 13 minutes now.

As distracting as the tickling feather below her bottom is, though, Clarisse tried her best to concentrate on standing up, getting away from this cruel form of ’torture’, looking in vain for any sort of buckle or attachment keeping the belt across her lap and her butt planted on this child’s potty chair. Out of frustration, she swings her hands wildly at the feathers, trying to push them away, not to mention perhaps tipping the training toilet over so that she might get some relief from the bit of stimulation below her bottom. As the bit brushes against a particularly sensitive spot, she clenches her eyes and bites her lip, concentrating on keeping control of herself, and as her eyes open she finds she’s looking directly at the ticking clock on the chalk board, wishing that it would speed up or something, anything, to get this to end.

The toilet was rooted to the ground, just as her butt was rooted to the toilet. The clock was at 12 and then 11, the merciless assault continuing in such vivid lifelike detail.

Pressing her thighs as close together as she possibly could, Clarisse’s eyes watering to the point that she could barely make it out, she concentrated on that ticking number, her teeth leaving little imprints on her bottom lip as the pressure and feelings beneath her began to grow. Later, she’d like to tell herself that she remembered making it at least past the 10 minute mark, but at 9:43 on the ticker, she couldn’t take it anymore. Her body seized up, and once again wave after wave of pleasure shot through her body, same as the night before when she’d dreamed of the office meeting. Her release into a euphoric stupor was accompanied by the warm feeling of release from her bladder, the sound of liquid hitting plastic filling her ears as her head swam.

The chalkboard erased itself, and the same shadowy faced woman was suddenly back, but she sounded happy, almost congratulatory as she gave a few pats to Clarisse’s back. The last thing Clarisse remembered seeing before it faded was the woman holding up a pair of what looked like girls pull-ups, lined pink and with Disney princesses on the front, like she was going to give them to Clarisse. It was dark after that, and although still tingling, Clarisse was on the couch, where she’d fallen asleep the night before. It was still very early.

The apartment was dark, and the TV’s inactivity timer had long since turned it off of its own accord, and the young professional’s eyes slowly open, and again she feels that familiar trickle on her leg and the afterglow of the strange dream. However, instead of clamping down to stop the release, Clarisse simply tried to enjoy the post-dream pleasure, her addled and tired brain not tying the spreading warmth to anything bad. It’s not until a good five minutes after waking, though, does the idea filter through that she has once again made quite a mess, and with some reluctance, Clarisse starts to uncurl from the couch, frowning at the dark spot on her cushions and the streams running down the front of the furniture to pool on the floor there. Her business casual pants she’d been wearing to the office earlier clung wetly and rapidly cooling to her thighs and legs, and with a loud sigh, she began cleaning up and stripping down, wiping herself off with a wash cloth and throwing on some night clothes, leaving her wet couch and blanket for the morning proper, and crawling into bed, feeling the absorbent pads beneath her as she flops back to sleep.

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Veronica checked her office supplies one more time in the back wing. She had ’adult garments’ as well as more specialized fetish items that looked and were proportionally as thick as baby diapers. She smiled, the psychological effect they sometimes had on her patients was delicious. She double checked her ’pharmacy’ shelf and it was just as well stocked, and product trials were going well, especially from what she’d heard of Clarisse, who she was looking forward to checking up on today. She closed the supply closet and quietly left out of the secret entrance in one of her back exam rooms to head to her office

She took a seat, reviewed her schedule and double checking the list of effects she’d need to check over. By now, if she was on schedule, she should be having some mild hallucinations during the day, followed by some wild dreams at night, and a problem keeping her bed dry. The fun would be getting that information out of her, and also double checking it herself.

She prepared a foot peddle under her desk that when pressed would play just a few bars of a very soft nursery rhyme, and she set up her monitor to have a fairly bright and vivid screen saver. "Okay... should just about do it... all there is to do now, is to wait," she said. She turned on a direct feed of the lobby, it wouldn’t do to let Clarisse get grated by the receptionist, she needed to build a modicum of trust and feelings of relief whenever she came to the office... so she sat, and she waited.

Waking up later in the morning, though still rather early for most people’s standards, Clarisse’s attitude was already off to a bad start. Along with her freshly ordered bed pads being slightly damp, though not fully wet, she still had the couch and floor of the living room to clean up, which took her about an hour before getting cleaned up, dressed and out to the clinic. With nerves fully on edge, it was as if she couldn’t at all sit still on the bus over, fidgeting in her seat and looking around anxiously. She felt as if people were watching her, or whispering her name just at the edge of hearing, and by the time she finally stepped off at her stop, the poor girl was very nearly in tears or hysterics.

Taking a long moment to settle herself and breathe deeply, she entered the clinic, trying to look calm and collected.

Seeing her through the security cam, Dr. Veronica got a folder and walked out looking purposeful to hand it to her secretary. "10 copies if you could, oh, and good morning Clarisse, please, come in come in, right to my office," she said warmly.

She was already turning and walking that way without waiting much for a reply.

Clarisse started to wave, then greet the doctor, but instead found herself taking long strides to try and keep up with the other woman as she moved further back into the office. When she finally caught up, she put on her best ’Nothing Bothering Me’ smile and nodded politely.

"I really appreciate you taking time to see me this morning, Doctor. I... well, I think I’m having those side effects we talked about over the phone. Maybe there’s some other drugs or something we can try?" she tries at the start, hoping to take control of the situation and hopefully not seem so completely out of it.

"We’ll see, but first, please, take a seat, I want to go over, in detail, what’s been happening. You’ve barely started this set of pills, switching you to something new this fast could be risky, especially since you’ve apparently just gotten over your cold... so let’s start from the top, first night you took them, what happened?"

Taking a seat behind her desk and looking concerned, but caring, Veronica focused all her attention on Clarisse.

The young professional sits down across the desk, hands folded in her lap, and starts slowly, obviously not wanting to have to re-live the last couple of night’s events.

"Well, it started off okay. I took the normal dosage, and things were fine. I got a little drowsy and went to bed. Nothing really out of the norm, except for the dreams I was having. It was so... Vivid, you know?" she says, and then takes a deep breath, "But when I woke up, I found I had... well, for lack of a better way of putting it, I wet the bed."

After a moment’s silence, she nodded a little, "Then again last night as well. Then there’s all the little things, like hearing people talking when no one’s around, or missing emails that were never sent..."

The better part of her business was in funding for ’testing’ medicines and the supplies of other medical products she invariably sold from their lingering effects. She nodded, looked interested. "Hmm dreams? That’s an odd affect, usually medicine of this time doesn’t promote brain activity in slumber, it’ll make you tired, but that’s about it..." She peppered a few honest questions, but also a few business questions about comfort and drowsiness. "This may be a symptom of a larger problem. Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

She pressed the pedal and a soft 4 cords of "Bah Bah Black Sheep" played deceptively low. "The fact that you’re hearing things is especially disconcerting. Have you ever had a history of this in the past?"

"Uh, no, I haven’t..." the other girl shakes her head, looking around for the source of the noise, "No history of it. Not even when I was still little. As for stress, well, I just started a new job and maybe that’s causing some of it, but I wouldn’t think to this extent." she’s hopeful that perhaps there’s a chemical solution in the form of modified dosages or something similar.

"Do... do you hear anything? Like, music or something?" she asks, though, not wanting to sound completely crazy, but still very nervous. "I could have sworn..."

"Can you describe your dreams a bit then? I’m not much of a psychologist, but it might give me a clue into what stresses are manifesting. I really don’t think the medicine is at fault here for the dreams and bedwetting.. and no.. I don’t hear anything, do you?" she looks up tilting her head from her notes, obviously concerned.

Not wanting to rush things too fast, she thinks about halving the dosage, but then smiles and holds off on that suggestion, instead waiting for her reply.

With another shake of the head, Clarisse tries to remember the dreams, finding them coming back to her quite easily and readily. "Well, the first one was something about I was giving a presentation at a board meeting. I didn’t know what it was about, or why I was giving it, but apparently I did a good job." She says, then shifts in her seat again, trying to ignore the softly playing nursery tune.

"Then I left the board meeting, and it was like as if I were having a, well, an orgasm..." she almost mutters the word, "Just this intense feeling of ’feeling good’. That’s about when I woke up, right in the middle of uh, peeing."

With a swallow, she continues on. "The other one, last night’s, was a little more weird. I was in this classroom, and somehow strapped to a toilet of some sort. There was a woman, but I can’t remember anything about her, and she left. Then there were some feathers, and one of them was.... uh... it’s rather personal, y’know." She stammers, but this is her doctor, so she keeps going, "It was... touching me, in the dream. Again, that pleasant feeling, and again I woke up peeing, but was a little too drowsy to really ’get it’."

Writes ’pleasant feeling’ in quotes about how Clarisse described her dreams. "Would you say these were bad dreams then? Or did you on some level enjoy them?" she asks. "From what I see, right now it seems you have work and worries about your ability to go to the bathroom stressing you. Have you taken any steps on your own to combat the ’nightly’ problem since you started the medicine?"

"Uh, I wouldn’t say I ’enjoyed’ them, but it isn’t as if I woke up feeling panicked or anything." she tries to explain, again shaking her head. "They weren’t bad, and, to be honest, if I could get the end bits of the dream without the, eh, wetting, I’d be fine." she says, a bit embarrassedly, but again hoping full disclosure will help to find a solution faster.

"So far all I’ve done is bought some of those bed-pads to help with the clean-up." she admits, "But that’s it, really. Are you sure you don’t hear anything?"

Veronica takes her foot off the pedal. "Nothing, just you and me talking. This is very worrisome though. Here’s what I’d suggest. Continue with the medicine till the end of the week. Take it on schedule. If the problems get worse, I want you back here immediately and we’ll get you on different meds. In the meantime though, I think it might be prudent to look into some more protection at night. I have some sample ’adult garments’ I can give you free of charge."

The crease between Clarisse’s brows deepens a bit at the sound of that, and she shifts in her seat as the music fades away, though the melody is now stuck in her head. "Do you really think that’s necessary?" she asks, quietly, with a glance to the door to see if the receptionist out front may have overheard the conversation.

"And, I mean, I’d be grateful, but I’ve got to go to work right after this, and I’d not want to have to carry them around all day, you know..." she says, trying to think of a reason not to have to accept them. "it’s just, well, not something I’d want anyone to find out about."

Veronica tries to hide a smile while watching her squirm. "I’m concerned about rashes and your personal property. If you’ve wet the last two nights," she says adding a little bit of a raised voice to wet, "Prudence would be to wear something on the third. They’re not uncommon, plenty of people wear them and I can give you a brown bag if it’s not something you want on display... or, if you wanted, you could pick some up at a store on the way home. I can suggest several and either way I recommend you try something more then you have."

She began to scribble on a piece of paper. "I can write you a prescription, or you can get them here free. Up to you," she said smiling again and tearing the paper to hand over to her.

Veronica knew the dreams would continue, and so would the wetting. The hallucinations would be intermittent, but not crippling until the next type of medicine. The first week was important, it opened her mind to some infantile possibilities, the later type would set them loose. She’d need to start getting used to the idea of being diapered if this was going to work. Her dreams would likely pick up it, same as they’d done with her work and embarrassment at an accident. They were designed to tickle embarrassment centers.

She tried not to get too lost in her thoughts as she held the paper out for Clarisse, waiting on her answer.

At first, it seemed as if the girl might reach for the paper, but then the fact that she’d have to actually go into a store and fill the prescription seemed to dawn on her, and she put her hand back down, averting her eyes. "Well, if you think it’s best... and if I can get them discreetly here, that would really be better for me." she says in a bit of a rush.

"I’ll take them, if you have a bag. Probably no one will notice, right?" she smiles a bit, relieved that she’s not hearing the music anymore, despite having it stuck firmly in her head. Her eyes dart to the screen saver on the computer, and she blinks once at the bright colors, though it seems to lighten her mood a bit. "Really, thank you, I’m so glad to have found this place. You’ve been way too helpful, Doctor."

Doctor V gets up and walks around her desk. "I’m glad to be of help," she says opening her arms and giving Clarisse a hug even as she sat in the chair. "Just give me a call if you have any complications," she says in an almost motherly tone as she briskly heads out of the room.

She had a bag waiting in the back examination room, a nondescript grocery bag with paper handles and a small pack of 8 Molicares in a small plain purple plastic case. She looked them over, waiting a minute or two to make it seem like she actually had to look around for them and then went back into her office, leaving the door open as she said ’here you go, these should help with your bedwetting,’ to which there was a slight giggle from the lobby receptionist.

"Thanks..." comes the sullen response, with a somewhat rueful glance out the door. "I’ll be sure to let you know if things get any worse. Is there anything else I should know? If not, I really need to get to work. I’ve got a meeting later, and a conference call, and then I’m off for the day."

"Just keep taking your pill before bed, I’d still recommend lots of fluids, but try to pee before you ’pad up’ for the evening. Again, gets any worse, don’t hesitate to call. Either way, I want you in after a full week of the pills. Sound good?"

Clarisse nods, and tries to find a way to hold the package that doesn’t look conspicuous, fails, and instead takes her leave of the doctor’s office.

The package itself sits all day beneath her desk at work, as Clarisse nonchalantly kicks it about and tries not to let anyone see it. Several times that day, though, and even once during a conference call, she catches herself humming along to ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’, as the song is stuck in her head, even to the point of having to check her computer speakers to make sure the sound is turned off. By the time she arrives back at home for the evening, her nerves are a wreck again, having sworn the engine noise on the bus was playing the song as it trundled along the roadways.

Tossing the package on the bed without even looking at it again, Clarisse sat and hung her head on the couch, keeping well away from the still drying portion she had to clean that morning. Again, the she finds herself humming the nursery rhyme to herself for a bit of comfort, her eyes drawn to the bottle of pills that, with the doctor’s reassurance that her problems are not being caused by the medicines, have proven themselves to be quite good at getting her to sleep and forgetting, if for a brief time, about her problems.

Clarisse put off thoughts of sleep tonight, though, until after her evening meal and some ’down-time’. With some effort, and a bit of uncertainty, she went through the unenviable task of getting herself ready for bed, puzzling out the new ’adult garments’ she’d been given, and then taking her medicine. It felt odd in just her nightgown and... well, ’adult undergarment’, but soon the pills started to do their thing, again having taken the relaxing double dose, and Clarisse slipped into bed, and out of the waking world.

As Clarisse lay in her drug induced sleep, her mind began to churn and process the stimuli from the previous day... She was at her desk, at work, or what looked like work, but was really just a cubicle in a sea of cubicles... There was not a single sound around her and there was no ceiling, just a foreboding gray mass that was somehow above her.

As she sat at her desk, dressed in the same clothes she’d gone to work with. She found that the shopping bag that her legs had bumped most of the day was not there... and... slowly, building as if coming from far away, she heard the song ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’ followed by the sounds of something shuffling, coming from the cubical alleyway.

With a long blink, and a shake of her head, Clarisse reaches over and pinches her arm at first, actually feeling the pain and sucking in a sharp breath. The dream, if it was one, was far more vivid than even before. It’s just hard to wrap her head around this type of stimuli. Even so, the sound of the song that had been shifting through her brain all day brought her back to her surroundings, and with a bit of trepidation, she slides slowly backwards and peeks her head out into the cube farm, marveling at first at how vast the sprawling collection of work spaces seem to be, though she finds she can’t make out any other people working at any of the stations.

"Please, not more feathers...." she mutters to herself, trying to pinpoint the source of her torment for so long in the previous day.

Down the alley is a small parade. Teddy bears, almost a dozen, all black furred, one with a xylophone and playing their musical march were on their way to her. Two of them at the back were sharing the heft of her shopping bag.

One of them had a bottle of baby powder. Another had a bottle of baby oil. Another had a Sippy-cup that was sloshing around as he marched. Another had a pair of scissors that he was carrying in a ’safe carry’ manner, and yet another held a pacifier above its head like a like a torch in a race.

They plodded along at a steady pace, heading right down her isle.

"What the..." Clarisse mutters, but instead decides this is not the way she wants this dream to go, and slides back into the cubicle. Glancing up, she hops up on her desk and starts to go over the cube wall, ignoring how it may make her look to her co-workers, but a parade of animated teddy bears isn’t exactly normal either. Despite this, though, she does find herself once again humming along with the addictive tune as she negotiates an escape.

Climbing over the cube, she finds just an empty cube, and another and another, in a series on down the line. There’s not really a lot of room to hang out on top of the cube walls, since it’s just about a solid inch or two of cheap plastic and felt covering.

The parade continues merrily in the isle, following her as she climbs over the cubes... the walls are raised enough that should she try getting to another isle, they crawl on the floor and push and pull their objects with them to meet continue on down the next isle. They really don’t slow down much as they continue at a steady pace, their frozen semi-smile stitch faces.

Clarisse is panicking now, seeing the small, fuzzy, soft mob not deterred by her attempts to get away. Instead of climbing over the next cube, though, she turns and begins to sprint down the aisle, darting out just in front of the little group. She keeps looking back over her shoulder, and finding that despite her running, the scenery doesn’t seem to change. IN fact, it’s just more of the same bland, gray, boring cubes.

Not only does the scenery not seem to change, but the parade never seems to get proportionally far away from her. They don’t change their pace, but even at full sprint, they’re really only 10 or 15 feet behind her playing their happy tune in full and continuing toward her.

Clarisse reaches into a cubicle, taking the precious few seconds she could spend running to grab a rolling chair and spinning it out into the aisle, trying to block the path of the on-coming gang of cuddly stuffies, letting out a little yelp of something akin to fear mixed with anger and a splash of desperation, though that turns immediately into her singing full-on along with the nursery song as she continues to run from her pursuers.

The chair doesn’t deter them, they only side step and break formation with surprising ease as they continue on. Somehow... as the time in her escape attempt prolonged, their ranks had grown, behind the two carrying her paper bag was another teddy with a small white bandana on. He was carrying something that looked to be about the size of a hammer, only the end of it seemed to be white and some type of rubber.

Not sure how long this chase has been going on, and with no reference points or any sense that there’s even an exit, Clarisse turns, singing the song back at the little band angrily, clenching her fists and preparing to try and fight them off.

"Bah Bah Black Sheep, have you any wool!" she cries, and throws a punch at the lead bear.

The lead bear drops his supplies and takes the punch, him being a good two feet in height and his body quite fluffy and soft. His fingerless round paws come together at her wrists, his companions dropping their items to plod up behind him in the same ever-march pace.

The only one not to join them is the xylophone player.

Clarisse tries to shake the bear off, not at all expecting that to happen, and more expecting to see the animals go flying across the cubes like so much fluff.

"H.. hey! Get off! Get back!" she cries, though still in tune with the song, taking a few steps back to try and get some distance while pulling at the bear on her wrist. "Get away!"

The bears come up on her, although not exceedingly strong, they are somewhat forceful, and the pull at her arm she’d used to punch the first, the others going around her.

Tugging on her arm, and pushing on the backs of her legs, they try to force her to fall forward on her tummy.

Clarisse is off balance, trying to pull a tenacious teddy bear off of her wrist, and slightly panicked at her own inability to stop singing that damnedable nursery tune. Without so much as a comedic waving of arms to keep her balance, she suddenly finds the floor rushing up to meet her, and bends her knees, only to have her shins fall on one of the stuffed animals, sending her more off balance, but into a face-plant onto the floor, but much lighter than had the bear not broken her fall.

"UNF! What the hell?" she tries to scramble away, pulling at one of the cubicle walls to try and get back to her feet, or at least out from under the encroaching creatures.

The bear under her continues to move around, getting a little grope-y with her boobs, while the other bears work to hold her down. The bear who had been carrying the scissors goes back to where he’d dropped his parade item and comes back to her, starting with right behind her neck and snipping his way through her clothes.

The young professional squirms, trying to get away from the cushiony paws at her chest, and at the same time trying to bat at the bear with the scissors, but finds that even though individually they’re no big deal, an entire pile of stuffed animals on your arms can really impede your motor skills. Instead, she tries kicking her legs at the animals still coming up on her, still humming loudly along with the tune on the xylophone while biting her lip to try and stop herself.

With a loud gasp of air, trying to breathe in before the next verse starts, she lets out a desperate, "Three bags full!" while still thrashing about.

The bear starts walking on her shoulders as he cuts a steady line, shearing right through her top and working now at her waist. The other bears aid him by laying on her arms and pulling at the top to leave her back bear and the top slowly traveling off her body.

Her kicking legs give only a moment’s pause before the other bears dive onto them like they were cowboys on broncos, effectively squashing her to the ground, half in a cubicle, half in the alley as they work to undress her.

The feeling of the cool air on her back, rare if not unheard of for a dream, elicits a new round of struggles from the girl pinned beneath the stuffed legions of hell, her hands clawing at the carpet yet so useless under the combined weight of her attackers. With her legs pinned now, Clarisse can do nothing but try to squirm around, trying to buck off the one with the scissors but not gaining much leverage. She raises her head, trying to look back over one shoulder to see what the rest are doing, and wishing desperately that the playing of the song would simply stop, the song digging its way into her mind and forcing out nearly every other conscious thought at this point except the desperation of wanting to get free.

With a few final snips, and the help of the other bears, Clarisse’s clothes were cut to pieces and she was left naked on the ground with the exception of the lead bear still squirming around under her weight.

The scissor bear went to one leg and took the place of the bear that had earlier, been holding the pacifier above his head. He shuffled over in front of Clarisse, and made a show of carefully picking up the pacifier, careful as earlier not to touch the nipple but only the handle and came marching up to her face which was either chin to the ground or turned to the side, closing in slow like a power cord about to plug into an electric socket.

With horror, Clarisse jerks her head to the side, again biting her lip to keep the thing from entering her mouth as she still hums the stupid song over and over, unerringly, not stopping. She clutches her eyes tightly, not even wanting to see the oncoming, seemingly inevitable item held by the stuffed animal.

The bear pays her no mind, pressing the rubber nipple up against the outside of her lips, an odd tingling and numbing sensation immediately present from the area the nipple touches. Her lips cease to follow her commands and her teeth are forced open a little as the nipple slides home and she can just barely feel the plastic guard coming to rest around her mouth.

The tingling sensation spreads quickly from her mouth to her neck, her chest, her arms, her legs and all the way to her feet. Her body goes limp, the struggle stops and she finds she can’t move. The bears slowly let go of her, dragging away the last scraps of clothes and throwing them in a little heap on the floor. They work together to roll her over, the leader bear getting helped to his feet by one of the others as they successfully roll Clarisse on her back.

The song suddenly changes from ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’, ending the madness, but just as quickly is replaced by ’Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’, The bears moving together now and forming a line.

First the two bears break open the package with the help of the scissors and get a diaper out... followed by the oil bear, followed by the powder bear, followed by the Sippy cup bear... and finally, the bear with the bandana... all in plain sight of Clarisse as she’s on her back, only able to suck on her pacifier and watch them go to work.

The young professional, now as naked as the day she was born, lets out a sigh of relief for the ending of the song, even as she’s laid open and numb on the floor of the cubicle farm, squirming lightly but not really able to coordinate any sort of other movement. However, her relief is a bit short-lived as the new song starts up, and while not as maddeningly driving as the other song, she again finds herself humming along with it, her cheeks twitching her unfeeling lips up into an idiotic smile. The music, she realizes, is all she really has, and tries to lose herself in it, but as the bears go to work, she finds that she cannot tear her eyes away from their exceedingly coordinated efforts, moaning the tune, nearly at the brink of tears.

The diaper is unfolded, two bears lift up her legs and push them all the back till her knees are almost touching her chest. The padding is slid under her, and while she’s in such an exposed position, the oil bear takes his turn, liberally squirting oil on her privates and bottom, not seeming to care that it mats the fur on her rounded paws as he works it in.

The powder bear comes up next, sprinkling an ample amount of white dust on her, and walking around to do more not just her nether region, but most of her tummy and sides as well...

Oiled, and powdered, the bears ease her down onto the diaper, two of them working together to bring it up and tape it to her waist. Giving her a firm pat as its secured.

The bears work on moving her body, propping her back onto a cube wall and splaying her legs out in front of her. The bear who carries the pacifier follows up with Sippy cup bear at his side, yanking the pacifier unceremoniously from her mouth, and the other bear stuffing the Sippy cup in it and holding it for her.

The final bear with the white bandana picked up his parade object and fiddled a little with it. The device’s soft head began to hum and vibrate visibly as he marched over, holding it like a spear, and standing between Clarisse’s splayed legs.

With the Sippy cup being held up for her, the young woman has no choice but to suckle on the spout or, and with the vividness of what she is still trying to convince herself is a dream, suffer the real fear of choking on the liquid inside. The flavor is not easy to place, the only wrinkle in the otherwise perfect feel of these sensations. Even the light tickle of the bear’s paws, the smell of the baby powder on her skin, and the slick feeling on her bottom and other parts from the oil, even down to the slight cushioning of the diaper taped around her waist.

Immediately recognizing what the bear holds, Clarisse begins to moan the lullaby louder, trying desperately to kick at the bear, but managing only a meek and pathetic squirming of her legs on the carpeted office floor as she continues to drink from the seemingly bottomless toddler’s cup, keeping her eyes as much as she can on the approaching stuffed tormentor.

The bears who at this point no longer have a task, do not seem as menacing, they each look for a part on her, either leg, hip, or limp arm to hug. They’re soft and warm, and even as she’s force nursed, the music stops... and there’s quiet, except for the sound of her drinking and the hum of the device in the bandana bear’s hands.

He is gentle, almost like someone washing something fragile, as he begins to press it toward her, a loud crinkling as it goes right up against the outside of her diaper and recently oiled sex.

The feeling that comes over the office worker is unlike any she’s ever felt before, the soft padding of the diaper rubbing against her slick crotch, stimulating her even without any penetration, and suddenly her moaning takes on an entirely new pitch between swallows. Even in her numbed state, her hips react immediately, trying to rock forward against the device, even though deep down, she knows she should be trying harder to control this, to clamp down and ignore the pleasure, but she can’t. Even with just the light touch, the combination of the smell, the feeling, and the light sound of the crinkling of the vibrating diaper, mixed with the fact that she finds she’s still humming the gentle lullaby in her head begins to overwhelm her senses.

As she begins to react, and her hips work with the bear, things begin to change... the cubicle fades away, the wall she’s resting against gets softer, till she’s resting against the pastel colors of a kids playhouse. The bears change from black to a more soft pink color. She feels warmer, the sensations feel better... the moment that she stopped fighting it, the bears hugged her more tenderly, the Sippy cup tasted like sweet nectar, and the humming vibration on her diaper rocketed her right to the edge of orgasm.... not to mention the feeling of how much she’d already drank...

Here, in the very childish surroundings, the bears piled on her and the toddlerish walls of the kid’s play house, her attire and garment don’t seem nearly so out of place or strange. The pleasure of her stimulation at the hands of the gentle teddy bear driving her onwards, she smiles to herself around the spout of the Sippy cup as things reach a head, her mind reeling at the sudden softness of the surroundings, the lighter colors, she sighs and releases, falling into an orgasmic haze, feeling the pressure in her bladder releasing at the same time as she ones again loses her senses in the dream, everything going hazy as she moans loudly.

The dream washes out, even as the padding on her diaper soaks it up. Implanting itself in vivid glimpses of the scary parade chasing her, to the happy relaxed euphoria of just laying dopily on the floor. Its feels like hours and a good rest have come as she hears the alarm go off next to her bed.

Clarisse rolled over and slapped at her alarm clock, not quite yet remembering the dream, but realizing that she didn’t at all want to wake up from it. Again she had that all-too-pleasant afterglow flowing through her body, and she was warm and dry. Slowly, she slipped one hand beneath her covers, eyes closed, not realizing she was lightly humming ’Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ to herself as her hand brushed gently against the swollen, still slightly cooling diaper at her waist. At that point she woke up fully, not in a rush, but with a slow realization of what the dream had been.

Embarrassed by the pleasure she’d received in the dream at the near toddler-level surroundings and stimulation by stuffed toys, she tried to be more clinically detached from the whole thing. Getting up, she noted how well the ’adult undergarment’ had done its job, tossed it away, and got in the shower, trying to wash away the feelings of the lingering fantasy. Despite this, as she boarded the bus for work, she unconsciously began to sing ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’ once again, with a little smile on her face, and the whole bus was singing with her... but she tried not to let it bother her.

As the morning began and as Clarisse found her way to her office, she was struck again by glimpses of her dream last night, looking a bit unsteadily at the rows of cubes, maybe not as endless as they had been in her dream, but the dull sound of two different nursery rhymes played by teddy bears in a parade dogged her thoughts.

It was around midmorning, and almost noon when without any warning at all, Clarisse felt a spurt of pee escape into her panties. Just a tiny bit, but it was enough to make her feel damp, and realize she had a very sudden need to relieve herself.

She had been humming that incessant ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’ to herself at the time, and the sudden and unexpected squirt got her attention quickly, causing a little ’yelp’ of surprise at this. Cheeks red, and trying not to look completely ridiculous, Clarisse stands and checks first her chair, then the front and back of her skirt before silently and quickly heading down the rows of cubes towards the restrooms. Once inside, she quickly locked the door (even though that is strictly against company policy) and attempted to inspect the damage done.

"Shit..." she mutters, seeing the dark stain on her very professional cotton knickers, "Shit shit...."

In a moment of inspiration, however, she decides that the hand dryer in the restroom should be put to some good use, so draping her panties over the spout and hitting the ’on’ button, she retreated to the nearest stall to relieve herself fully.

While taking care of business, and since it’s a fairly busy office, there’s a jiggle of the door handle not but a moment or two later. It’s just a secretary trying to pee, but she needs to go and time is money, so finding a locked door does not go well with her. She bangs on the door twice, "Hello? The door is locked, that isn’t a private bathroom, please open and let others use the stalls!" she says, thinking that if this takes more than a minute or two, she’d go get the keys she has at the front desk for most of the inner offices and bathrooms.

Thinking quick, and with a wince at the lie, Clarisse calls back hurriedly, "OH! Sorry! I spilled something on my skirt and have a meeting in a few minutes, I’ll be out in a second, I promise!"

And she grumbles, flushing the commode (after wiping thoroughly) and grabbing her still slightly damp but still warm panties from the dryer before splashing a little touch of water on the edge of her skirt by one outer hip as if having just cleaned a stain off. Then she smiles as she rushes out past the impatient secretary and back to her cube, heart pounding. Once inside, however, she starts to calm down, and finds herself humming ’Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ to herself until her pulse returns to a normal pace.

The day goes on, TPS reports on this, triplicate with a copy to account on that. Towards the later part of the day though, while looking at her desktop computer screen, something odd happened. It was about that time of the afternoon where work slows down and a good lunch can be very hard to stay awake with. She wasn’t sleepy, but she was starting to space out...

As she looked at her screen, some of the words jumbled together and seemed to change in darkness, till she could swear that she could distinctly see a teddy bear made from bold text hidden in the regular text, and it was moving slightly, as if marching on the screen.

Quickly, Clarisse closed the document and pushed herself back from her desk, glaring at the desktop background as if the computer itself were trying to betray her. After a few more moments, and a couple of deep breaths, she slowly stood and grabbed her coffee cup, looking over the wall to the person in the cube next to hers.

"I’m going to the break room for a coffee if anyone’s looking for me." she says, smiling politely, "Shouldn’t be gone too long. There’s a pad of paper on my desk, they can just leave a message."

Besides a little more of the music, the rest of the day passed without incident. The bear on her screen must have been her just seeing things. As quitting time came and she got on the bus, the day seemed to be about normal.

After getting home, getting a clean pair of undies and a quick change out of her work clothes, she decided to relax a bit after her day with a bit of shopping at the shops a few streets over, and a nice little dinner that she doesn’t have to cook herself. A new business suit, some nice pumps, a plate of to-die-for pasta later, and the young professional was feeling pretty much herself again, except for the very uneasy feeling she got the four times she passed by that new trendy designer baby-furniture and supply store that opened next to the GAP down the street.

Back home, she put away her things, purposefully avoiding looking at the package of ’adult undergarments’ on the floor near the bed, and settled down on the couch for a bit with a glass of wine to wind down the evening.

Although she didn’t like how she was essentially needing the ’adult undergarments’ every night, she was starting to enjoy the way she woke up each morning. Her dreams were vivid, and ... unsettling... but just thinking about how she felt when she woke up made her tingle a little bit.

Even as she looked at the package near the bed she felt an odd stirring that made her blush.

Resigned, Clarisse finished off her glass of wine and once again retreated to her bedroom. The distinct odor of stale urine was present in the room, if a bit subdued, and a frown crossed the young woman’s face as she moved towards the bed. She’d have to do something about the smell, maybe open a window over the weekend or something. Definitely take the trash out in the morning.

Those thoughts, however, took a back seat to the sheer embarrassment of having to put on these silly ’undergarments’ before bed, the thick padding’s soft touch and smooth exterior plastic covering notwithstanding. It seemed a bit easier to get on the second time, though, and soon she’d downed another double-dose of the relaxing pills and rolled over in bed, the soft lullaby of ’Twinkle Twinkle’ in her head pulling her down into a deep slumber.

As she drifted off to sleep, her mind laden with the drugs and her sense of peace enveloping her... she began to dream again as she had the last few nights. Her dreams seemed to follow her waking life.

In more vivid detail then her previous night’s dreams, she was in the shops just a few streets passed her... She was still in her work clothes, but she didn’t have any of the bags she’d purchased that evening. Her arms were empty. She was standing just inside the doors of the designer baby furniture store.

Warm cream lighting lit a few rows of everything upscale parents would need for their baby... for their... big baby, as she saw the size was quite larger than a normal store.

Oddly it seemed there was someone at the register in the back.

The lack of bags, and the obvious size of the furniture itself was enough to register to Clarisse that this was definitely not a real store, nor did she believe she was awake, but... Something seemed off. If it wasn’t for the obvious inconsistencies, she could almost believe she were really there, though there was still the lingering ’floating’ feeling of being in a dream-like state. Still, though, something drove her forward, and she found herself standing in the middle of the store, calling out to the person behind the counter.

"He... hello? Are you real? Where am I?"

The person behind the counter looked real enough. When she was called she raised her head from some paperwork by the counter and waved politely. As she was waving, she seemed to come into focus. She had long blond hair that was draped over her right shoulder, and she wore a simple pink shirt under a long jean dress. She had on a navy blue apron over that with a few pen in the breast pocket and a few small boxy looking bulges in the big center pocket.

"Hi little miss," she said, as she looked up. "One moment and I’ll be right with you," she adds, finishing with her writing and coming from around the counter. It wasn’t till she got a little closer to the middle of the store that Clarisse realized she was huge... she had to be over 7 maybe even near 8 feet tall and the furniture looked like it might just work for a baby from somewhere her size.

Blinking and staring up at the woman, Clarisse tried not to look too stunned or idiotic, so instead she simply shook her head and tried to respond in kind.

"Oh, hi, sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, and it’s just ’Miss’ if you will." She says, correcting the ’little’ part, "I was just on my way... somewhere, can’t remember for the life of me, but I was wondering if you could point me to the nearest bus stop? Or maybe a payphone so I could call up a taxi would be great, thanks."

Smiling down at Clarisse the woman put her hands on her hips. "On your way somewhere? It’s all right, I bet you saw all our great stuff in the shop windows and just couldn’t resist coming to try it out? Hmmm? It’s not a problem at all, you can try out anything you like, in fact, I’ve got some fantastic recommendations," she adds, reaching down to take Clarisse by the hand.

"Uh, sorry, but no not really." She says, pulling back slightly to keep her hand out of reach, "Really, I don’t mean to be a bother, but if you could just point me towards the bus stop...?" she says, then as if not to hurt any feelings, "I’m sure all of your stuff is really nice and I’m positive someone will be happy to own it someday, but I’m not exactly in the market at this time."

"Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all, if I could just a moment of your time, you’ll want to buy everything in the store as soon as you’ve tried it out," she smiles, going into ’sale’ mode and ignoring the bus stop question. She reached a bit more determinedly for Clarisse hand, catching her by the wrist.

"You just HAVE to see our latest and greatest play pens. Easy to fold up and store, easy to take out and set up. Our floor model even has a dozen teddy bears in it for a little girl like yourself to play with!" she says... ... and there’s a soft bit of music that can be heard from the corner of the store the woman seems to want to head toward.

"Hey, wait!" the young woman proclaims, pulling back little against the larger woman’s grip. "I didn’t really want a sales demo, and I’m not a little girl. I have no need for any of your products, really." she tries to keep her cool and stay professional, but a bit of panic is starting to set in, as if this is all somehow familiar.

"Really, please, I probably can’t afford any of this anyway." she tries a different tactic. "Nor do I have any children who need anything like this."

"Who can’t afford a free demo? We have flexible payment plans and a lot of the stuff here can be bought with no money down!" she said merrily. She didn’t want to hurt the much shorter girl’s feelings by contradicting the obvious height difference. "It’s all right, really, you don’t need to make any excuses, boys and girls like you come in here all the time and it’s the best I can do as a shopkeeper to show you what you want," she said.

She pulled Clarisse along to the corner of the store where three different playpens where set up. The biggest was an off white almond color with a soft cloth mesh between its rounded soft walls. The inside had ABC’s and 123’s scattered across the floor, and... the teddy bear parade was inside, looking up at the two of them impassively. The play pen next to that one was a mint grin on the sides with the same white mesh. Inside it was simply a small childish looking cloth bag, sitting oddly out of place. The last playpen was bright pink and made completely of wood. The inside had a very thick and heavy baby blanket... that was moving slightly.

"Here we go, our latest products, which one would you like to try?"

One of the teddy bears was sitting politely behind the others, with xylophone playing ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’. The woman didn’t seem to think it was out of place.

Taking an obvious and instinctive step back from the teddy bear-filled playpen, and pressing a hand reflexively to her crotch to try and control the mixture of panic and the memory of the pleasure. Instead, she again pulls at the hand of the larger woman, and decides that, since it’s just a dream and she can’t break the vice-like grip at any rate, to go for the lesser of the three seeming evils.

"Uh, well, this one seems quite nice, I suppose." she says, giving a little nod towards the middle one with the bag in it. "All things considered, that is. Very nice. Maybe I’ll keep it in mind if I ever have any children."

The woman smiles "Oh yes its very popular," she says leaning down and sliding her hands up under Clarisse’ arms. "You really have to sit in it for a bit to understand though," she says as she lifts Clarisse off the ground, taking her surprise for acknowledgement as she sets her down next to the bag in the playpen. "You enjoy yourself I need to go make a call for a moment, but I’ll be back and we can talk about your opinions of it."

Blinking, Clarisse moves to stand by the rail, looking about the room from inside the playpen, feeling the bit of give under her feet as if she’s standing on a very thin mattress, or very thick carpeting. "Well... how rude." she says, starting to think about whether or not climbing out would be insulting or not.

The woman goes over to the phone and begins talking with someone on it. Due to the soft music from the teddy bears, which are all lined up looking at her play pen from theirs, Clarisse can’t hear what the woman is talking about, she just hears ’customer’ ’seems interested’.

The play pen itself is still sized very large to Clarisse. The mint colored walls are easily 6 feet tall. The bag seems somewhat large too, almost four feet across.

With a sigh, Clarisse turns towards the bag, looking it over a little bit. It seems odd to just have it sitting here in this playpen, especially one so large, so she moves over to it and peers at it, gently opening it slowly, as if whatever is inside might bite at her or something.

The bag opens with an unexpected ’poof’ of sparkly dust and baby powder, almost like a flower pod that had been ready to burst. Clarisse is dusted over her entire front upper torso and a good handful is settling about her sides on the floor of the playpen.

The rest of the bag appears to be empty.

"Hey, what?!" she exclaims, trying to wave the dust out of her face and brush it off her clothes as she takes a few steps back away from the booby trapped bag, sneezing a little bit at it. "Well...." she mutters, and eyes the now-empty bag cautiously, then turns to the collection of bears one pen over.

"I bet you little assholes think this is funny, huh?" she jabs at them, eager to take out her frustration on something, even if it is simply verbally abusing a collection of crazed psycho bears. "Now this crap is gonna be all over me for the rest of the day. Ugh."

The bears stair back, they’re little triangle noses and sown on expressions unable to show emotion. One of them continues playing merrily though. It’s only another minute or so before the woman comes back, looking surprised.

"Oh dear, what’d you get all over yourself?" she asks, seeing the powder scattered about the bottom of her showroom playpen and occupant.

Clarisse shakes her head. "Whatever it was you put in that bag, apparently. Do you have any idea how much it’s going to take to clean this off of me?" she asks, a bit angrily, "Not to mention the fact that now I have to go home and change clothes before I can go back to work. You’ve cost me a lot of time and money, miss, and I will not stand for it!"

The woman tilts her head. "Bag?" she says looking a little confused. "She can clearly see the customer is distressed. "I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but no worries, I’ll make sure you’re 100% satisfied, we can get you straightened up in a jiffy. I have some sample stuff I can give out to help with that powder you’ve gotten all over yourself," she says reaching down to get Clarisse under the arms again. She picks her up and carries her over to the other side of the room, where there are hanging racks of juvenile clothing.

Clarisse turns to point back at the bag, but finds herself hefted and carried off instead, nose still full of the sweet smelling powder. "H.. hey! Let me down! I don’t want any of these clothes, and I don’t want anything from your store!" she nearly shouts, feeling powerless and upset by that feeling.

"Really, just let me go, you can’t just do what you want because you’re some sort of giant or whatever you are!"

The woman rolls her eyes. "You’re quite the sparky little girl, but it’s all right, I’m a professional and before we’re through you’ll think this is the greatest store there is," she says as she puts her down next to the racks. She waists not time pulling off her office garb, undressing her and leaving the girl flailing around awkwardly till she’s left standing in nothing but her underwear... ... with an obvious yellow stain on the crotch of her panties.

"Oh honey... you seem to have had an accident today."

Clarisse looks down, and suddenly the memory of her little lack of control back at the office comes flooding back to her, and suddenly she can’t remember if it was a minor accident or a larger one or if she changed clothes before shopping. Self-consciously she covers herself with her hands, face getting hot at the thought of someone finding out about her little indiscretion.

"It’s... nothing, really! It was just a little bit. I think. Either way, I can handle it if you just let me go home!"

The woman switches from being a helpful sales associate to being something of a mother genuinely concerned for a young girl. "Covered in powder, wetting yourself. Poor thing..." she says, as she starts grabbing things off the shelf.

While Clarisse covers herself in embarrassment, the woman grabs a pink onesie and a few cloth diapers with a pair of clear plastic pants. "C’mon, we’ll get you taken care of," she says kneeling next to the blushing girl and setting the items she’d collected on the floor.

Clarisse takes a step back, still covering herself and she can feel beneath her palms the cold dampness of very wet panties. "I didn’t wet myself. Well, not this much." she says, though her voice is clearly unsure as to whether or not it was this much, her days’ worth of insecurities about the extent of her accident flooding back over her as she eyes the infantile clothing warily.

"Really, I’ll just run home and get cleaned up, and we’ll be right as rain." she says, trying to move even closer to the door and away from this overly caring giantess. "I’ll even come back and look at more of your stuff, I promise, really."

"I can’t let you run home like that," she says as she takes the girl and leads her to sit down, and then lay back on the carpeted floor. "Don’t worry, I won’t even charge you for these. It’s probably best we get you into some clean clothes anyways." she says as she pulls off the sodden panties and places three thick cloth diapers under the girl, reaching to a basket for some large ducky pins to go with them.

She efficiently gets Clarisse into a big and thick set of cloth diapers, followed by the pair of plastic pants. "There we go, that should cover against any more accidents," she says, taking a moment to playfully dust Clarisse’ hair of some of the powder which has her thoroughly smelling very babyish. She helps the girl sit up. "Now, arms up!" she says, getting the pink onesie.

The young professional is stunned at the quickness in which the change takes place, and finds herself raising her arms totally against her will, her body betraying her to the whims of this strange giant and her commands. "H.. hey! This isn’t... I don’t want... I’m not..." she protests, but her voice is muffled by the garment being pulled down over her without any sort of pomp or circumstance, and she sputters a little bit in the process, shaking her head as more of the sweet powder falls from her hair. She starts to kick her legs as her arms are occupied, trying to slide backwards or something on the floor, now that her bottom is encased in a somewhat smooth, rubbery shell.

With a little flourish, the woman has the onesie on her and is snapping the buttons closed around her thick middle. "There we go, all set." she said, the old powdered clothes disappearing when neither of them were looking. The woman picked up Clarisse again, carrying her back across the room.

"Now since you weren’t 100% satisfied, I really think you should try some of our other models," she says placing the girl into the bright pink wooden play pen. It’s fairly large and in the center of it is a heap of light pink lined white and polka dotted baby blanket.

The teddy bears strike up there music two playpens over, watching her once again as the woman releases her and smiles. "There we go, this is one of our most popular play pens, a real throw back model."

She leaves to go back to her phone, and as soon as she’s gone, the baby blanket.. .shifts... slightly, and Clarisse can hear a slight rattling noise.

Pressing her back against the side of the playpen as tightly as possible, Clarisse eyes the blanket, looking for any signs of movement that indicates that whatever is under it may leap at her, explode, grab at or attempt to molest her in any way shape or form. Slowly she inches around towards the back side of the playpen, away from the large woman at least, all the while keeping her eyes on that blanket....

The blanket seemed to shift... like it was... uncoiling... and at its corner it was wrapped around a light blue baby bottle filled with a white liquid, seeming to rise up like ’the head’ of a snake. At its other end, the corner was tied in a knot around a baby rattle, which is shook menacingly as it unfurled in the pen with Clarisse.

She couldn’t help it. It was terrifying and fascinating at the same time, like some sort of strange horror that a child might find appealing or non-threatening, but to a grown woman, it was downright unsettling. Clarisse tried to scream, but all that came out was a low groan, and her legs gave way beneath her at the sight of the animated .... thing. With a heavy ’thump’ she landed on the playpen’s floor, sliding a bit closer to the thing as she did so, entranced by the thing’s movements.

Slithering this way and that, it came up like a snake, striking out in a quick serpentine motion to coil around one leg, slowly moving to entwine the other in a hug, the bottle pointing the way as it did two loops around her lower legs and moving up. It looked scary, and yet its body was fuzzy and warm, the softest of baby blankets.

Clarisse kicked her legs at the thing, but entwined as it was about them, and as exposed as her legs were, all she succeeded in doing was rubbing her smooth legs against the soft material of the blanket. It felt wonderful, and after a moment’s struggle, she simply squirmed her legs to feel the fabric against them, her previous terror turning into a sort of panicked relaxation as she felt its embrace coiling around her lower body.

Snaking around both of her legs, and then over her padded crotch, the blanket-snake began its slow process of enveloping. Its baby rattle tail playfully shaking as it continued its progress, completely cover her lower half. The bottle at hits ’front’ led the way, zooming around and around her on its path up. Two play pens over, the teddy’s watched, one of them switching from ’Bah Bah’ back to ’Twinkle Twinkle’, the snake seeming to slow down in time with the music as it was just about up to her chest now. The woman who had dropped her in the pen was over at the register on the phone once more. She wasn’t bothering to look at Clarisse.

"Nnnn!" Clarisse whined slightly, looking over her shoulder at the apathetic or just unaware woman, trying to squirm out of the grasp of the soft and cuddly monstrosity that was very quickly cocooning her in a wrap of soft fluffy blanket. When it was obvious that the saleswoman wasn’t going to be of any help, she turned her attention back to the ’head’ of the thing, watching the nipple of the bottle warily and tightening her lips in expectation of the end intentions of the thing.

Fully cocooning her in its soft embrace, the snake’s head reared up right at the center of her chest, the bottle pointed nipple first at her mouth. It hovered, drifting a little to the left, then a little to the right, like a viper waiting for its’ moment to strike, but seeing that her mouth was closed, the blanket-snake constricted itself a little, tightening around her stomach and sides and hips, squeezing her.

Clarisse held out for as long as she possibly could, trying to flex back against the restricting cloth, but found it amazingly resistant to stretching, though still retaining its initial softness. Eventually, though, she could hold out no longer, and she had to open her mouth, gasping for air and trying to call out for help to the woman still speaking on the phone, or to at least bang against the wooden slats of the playpen’s side to try and generate some sort of noise to get some attention, some sort of escape from the cuddle monster.

Seeing its opening, the snake’s head struck, lashing out and stuffing itself into Clarisse’s mouth. The constriction of its body relaxed a little, but she was still cocooned with her arms locked to her sides as the blanket-snake began to force squirt the bottles content’s into her mouth. The liquid was chocolate milk, and it tasted sweet, if a bit creamier than normal.

With a plethora of muffled sounds of resistance, and being completely wrapped in a soft blanket, none of Clarisse’s attempts at grabbing the notice of the giantess sales woman went heeded, and she found herself lying half on her side, half propped against the side of the playpen as the strange creature attempted to force feed her this strange drink. A couple of swallows in, however, and Clarisse found herself actually enjoying the taste, like it was a warm, thin chocolate milkshake. Almost greedily, and to her conscious dismay, she began to try and draw faster off of the bottle while at the same time managing her breathing to keep from passing out from the squeezing and the liquid in her mouth.

Finishing her call and hanging up the phone, the woman walked back over. She found Clarisse, cuddled up like a pill bug in a baby blanket and nursing on a bottle. It didn’t occur to her that it might be weird that no one seemed to be holding the bottle up for the ’baby’, but that didn’t matter. She smiled warmly and let out a soft ’awwww’. "I think we found someone who loves our play pen so much she wanted to make herself right at home," she said. She bent over the side and reached down to pick Clarisse up, tucking her into her arms like a newborn and taking hold of the bottle to let Clarisse feed. As she was held, Clarisse could feel the blanket begin to warm and tingle around her, the feelings of infantile pleasures increasing. Being held, nursing, secure in a baby blanket... these feelings washed over her like waves. The milk she was drinking filling her tummy, and already making a quick journey through her system.

Again the young woman tried to squirm as she was lifted, but it didn’t do much good with the woman being so much larger than herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Clarisse knew she should be putting up more of a fight, and a tiny bit of her really wanted to do everything it could to bust out of this fuzzy prison, but the majority of her brain was too busy basking in the sensations that were flowing over her to care. Slowly, inevitably, she gave in, relaxing into the woman’s arms and letting the numbing, warm tingle overcome her until she was simply a limp form in the woman’s arms, wrapped in a blanket and suckling on the bottle complacently. At the same time, the worry about the fullness of her bladder no longer seemed to matter, and she simply shifter her weight slightly and let nature take its course, more concerned about the sweet nectar coming in through the bottle than what was going out between her thighs.

As the bottle drained and as Clarisse’s diaper warmed, the woman cooed softly to her. When the bottle was completely empty, the woman removed it and let it fall to the play pen, the grip on the blanket seeming to slack as it fell away. She hefted Clarisse up to lean on her shoulder, giving her nice firm pats on her back. With each pat, the infantile feelings seemed to draw into a center, almost to the point of a directional attack on her bodily system of sexual gratification.

She could feel it building, and as the woman patted her on the back, Clarisse squirmed against the pleasure overtaking her. At the same time, she could also feel a pressure in her chest and stomach growing with each pat, in time with the other feelings, until after just a few pats, it happened. At the same time the young professional woman opened her mouth to let out an infantile release, her body reached its maximum threshold for stimulation, and in her dream state she found herself simultaneously releasing a little bit of a belch mixed with some spittle and left over chocolate milk at the same time her body released its hold on the growing orgasm, a very strange coupling of feelings as she could feel the results of her spit-up on her chin as the world faded into a blur of sexual release.

Falling to dark, the woman’s voice echoed "That’s a good baby," as the dream slipped off and Clarisse fell into what was left of a very pleasant slumber in her bed... wet diaper and all.

Once more, she woke before her alarm clock in the morning. The pleasure from the dream was still with her, and without much thinking about it, Clarisse pressed a hand to her sagging diaper, still warm between her legs, and began to squirm in her bed, mewling lightly at the echoes of the sensation, her sheets standing in for the soft blanket in her dreams. The sound of her alarm clock rocked her from her half waking dream, and quickly she sat up in bed, pulling her thumb from between her lips and trying to blink in the morning’s first light. Despite the little shock to the system that the blaring alarm gave her, the woman found that the feelings from the dream didn’t fade nearly as quickly as before, and in fact, it wasn’t until halfway through her somewhat longer than usual shower that Clarisse was able to work the feelings completely out of her system, and as she sat on the bus on her way to work, she hoped that her neighbors had already left for work their selves, lest they be worried about the noise.

Getting to work and starting her day Clarisse was able maintain a steady rhythm, although occasionally she heard the soft notes of certain baby songs in her head. Somewhere around 10am, she had a meeting, nothing really important, just the same run of the mill ’Jeff wants to pat himself on the back and make sure that everyone knows what he’s been doing since meetings are a show off space’, but what struck her a little by surprise was that as they sat down for the meeting, the first slide projected on the wall for everyone to look at was a big wooden playpen like the one she’d remembered for her.

"Uh..." she said, blinking her eyes and shaking her head a bit, trying to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. “Something wrong, Claire?" one of the upper management asked, looking a bit concerned at the junior member of the meeting. "Uh, no, just couldn’t read one of the bits." she said, trying to cover for what clearly can’t be what it looks like, and the meeting carries on, though Clarisse finds herself chewing on one of her knuckles. Slowly, she slides back from the table, trying her best to be unnoticed and feeling somewhat exposed all of a sudden, vulnerable and paranoid.

The next slide seemed to be normal. And the next after that, and the topics and the meeting was about what you’d expect. She still heard the soft teddy-bear-drumming sounds of her new favorite songs, but her paranoia seemed to have slowly come down from its peak. Still no one seemed to have seen what she had, and no one seemed to think it odd if they. Just as the meeting was adjourning, she felt a sudden very strong need to use the restroom, and the upper management was usually the first ones allowed to leave and they were all crowding the door and glad-handing each other for this quarter’s profit margin and something about a yacht they bought with last month’s bonus (that no one under management had seemed to get).

Trying to use her ability to be completely overlooked by management to her advantage, Clarisse quietly and carefully tries to push past some of the upper management, mumbling something about having to get to another meeting under her breath and smiling as if nothing at all is wrong. It took all of her willpower to keep from doing a little ’potty dance’ in the board room while secretly wishing all of these upper-management types would simply get the hell out of the way and go back to their money counting or accounts wrangling or whatever it is they do while everyone else does all the real work to keep the business afloat.

With a slight ’toot’ Clarisse made known just how badly she needed to go to the assembled crowd. There were some furrowed eyebrows, but the seas did seem to part and give way for her.

With cheeks red, she made a b-line for the restroom, and secured herself into a stall, putting her face in her hands to try and not cry out of sheer embarrassment from that little slip up in front of everyone. After about fifteen minutes, and long after finishing up her ’business’, the young professional finally came to her senses, finding herself humming ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’, and feeling quite a bit better about the whole situation. These things happen, right, so no worries. As she wiped and cleaned her hands, she’s practically singing the song out loud, and for some reason it makes her spirits lifted.

Things seem to settle down. An hour later, she swears she sears teddy’s walking across her screen in form of random letter’s being bold and seeming to move, but blinking her eyes a few times and it was gone. Toward the end of the day, things have managed to be normal for Clarisse. Some of her other employees even mention that they’re going out for drinks after work, and its insinuated (although she’s not invited directly) that anyone is welcome to join if they so feel like it.

All things considered, it sounds like a wonderful idea, if for no other reason than to get her mind off of the crazy and stressful week she’s been having, and seeing as how it’s a Friday afternoon, Clarisse makes a few bits of polite conversation to figure out where and when the gathering is taking place, and soon finds herself headed that direction after work with a little spring in her step.

The bar is directly across the street from the furniture store not far from her place. It’s easy for her to take the bus home and get dressed won a little and wander over there... although taking a look at the furniture store window she can see the big play pen on display, easily as big from her dreams, to an unreal size. Some of her co-workers are already at some street tables with beers and call to her as she comes near.

She tears herself away from staring at the impossibly big playpen, chalking it up to stress and weird dreams, and instead heads over. She orders a glass of not-too-expensive, not-too-cheap wine and joins her co-workers, joining in on the office gossip and small talk, as well as laughing at appropriate jokes. She also tries to steer any conversation away from her personally, deflecting to other people and generally trying to keep from being the center of attention. After a couple of glasses, though, she’s starting to feel far more relaxed, happy that she was able to find a seat that puts her back to the street, and the store.

The mail room guy was fairly nice to talk too, and so was the spikey haired guy from sales. She was feeling better, a little social, happy that the work week was over, and then one of the accounting guys had managed to steer the conversation to talking about his recent twins that he and his wife had had. Clarisse didn’t hear it at first, she was drinking and thinking about the music, but when she zoned back into the conversation, all three of the guys were talking about babies, diapers, furniture from the store across the street, and one of them even looked at her and asked. "So which play pen do you think is the nicest?"

With a little startled expression, she shook her head. "I... wouldn’t know. I don’t have any kids, and don’t really know anyone who has any, so I’ve never gotten a look in.. AT any playpens." she says, trying to finish up with a bit of a smile. "Really, I hear the people who work at that store over there," she nods over her shoulder, "Are a bit overbearing and insistent, though."

The guys all look at each other a little confused. "Oh, well it was more a question of aesthetics, and I hadn’t heard that. I’ll keep that in mind," Accounting guy said, scratching the back of his head. The guys conversation shifted a little bit after that to sports, and then to which higher ups at their company were the biggest asses. Clarisse found when the group was breaking up and catching cabs that she was actually quite tipsy, but thankfully only a few blocks from home.

At home, having sung herself all the way up the elevator and into her apartment, Clarisse squinted at the label on the pill bottle, trying to see if there are any adverse reactions to alcohol that she should be concerned about, and finding none, took her usual double-dose, despite not being nearly as anxious as she usually was (due mostly to the drink). Then it was a bit of a sloppy job getting her night-garments on, and then she again found herself curling up in bed, alarm clock turned fully off, and expecting a good, long, sleep-in.

Clarisse was out like a light. Wine usually did that too her anyways, but combined with a double dose of a psychotropic drug and she was gone from the world. As her alcohol slowed brain tried to process the usual dreams, something kind of got mixed up. She was at the bar again, sitting on the stool, in front of the three guys, only this time, she was dressed in the onesie from the last dream, and an obviously thick diaper. The accounting guy looked at her once again. "So what play pen do you think is the nicest?" he asked once more. The bar was semi-real but everything was kind of hazy.

Feeling a bit tipsy and hazy, and all the chemicals in her system, Clarisse doesn’t seem to care. She waves a hand, "Well, the one that comes with the blanket thing isn’t so bad, except the bars are like, wood, so they’re hard if you bang up against them." she says, giggling a little at how ridiculous this all is, "But the ones with the mesh sides are the best. The bottom’s so soft an’ you don’t have to worry about falling and bumping anything." then she nods as if this is some sort of sage advice, then another round of tipsy giggles.

The guys all laugh and nod along with her as if she’s telling them just what they needed to hear. Her wineglass from earlier is apparently a bottle now, and its sitting fairly full in her hands. No one seems to think how she’s dressed is in appropriate or even out of the ordinary, even though what people she can see out the haze are dressed as she remembered them after work. The accounting spots that she’s already had quite enough to drink and looking a little concerned, "Hey, you should probably head home," he says, patting her on the shoulder.

With a shake of her head, she smiles, "No, I think I’m doing pretty good... uh... whatever your name is." she says with another little giddy laugh. "Really, it’s fine."

Clarisse’s talking slurs a bit more, to the point where she’s just giggling and pointing at or actively poking some of the other patrons and her co-workers. They’ve become increasingly away that she’s drunk (on her baby bottle) and the three of them start trying to find a solution on how to get her home. Their decision seems to come to a head, but before they can fully decide, the world shifts, and she’s back in the meeting room. This time, she’s not as drunk, and she’s in her business suit... and she’s in front of the slides once more.... but on the slides, are the complete product line from the furniture store... and her coworkers seated before her looking up expectantly.

"Um..." she says, looking around at all the eyes on her, suddenly feeling very confused and not nearly as confident as she was at the bar, "Did I miss something?" she asks, a bit confused as to why her company suddenly cares about the products from the new parents’ store.

The accountant sits up, looking her up and down. He opens his mouth to speak, but triply, the beats of her favorite song come out. Salesman joins in, his mouth somehow speaking in drum. The others nod approvingly and Clarisse is left looking confused, and suddenly feels the same urge she had earlier that day while in the meeting. They’re all staring at her, waiting for her to continue on about the product on the board.

With a little hint of fear in her eyes, she starts edging towards the door, taking short breaths as she tries not to repeat the same incident from before, hopefully keeping all of her gasses contained until she can reach the restroom. "Uh, and with that, I think it’s time we took a break for a few moments and let the impact of these, uh, numbers sink in a little." she tries, hopefully keeping her smile on her face, but somewhere she knows that she’s not. The singing of her coworkers has her worried, but at the same time it’s that same song she’s come to associate with relaxing and pleasure, so she’s trying to block it out on her way to the boardroom door.

She manages to get out of the boardroom, and into the office she’d visited in another previous dream. It seems so familiar, so strange and yet, she remembers it, and sure enough, up ahead at one of the cubes, the teddy bears come marching out, the group that had apparently been following her dreams from the start. They have with them the same variety of items they’d had when she first saw them and the final member of their parade began the steady drumbeat of ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’, almost in harmony with the talking co-workers in the meeting. She still very much needs to go, and she’s still a bit tipsy.

Surprised, she turns quickly to try and retreat back into the boardroom, finding it suddenly locked. "H.. hey! Break is over, let me in! I need to finish the presentation!" she calls, pounding on the door and jiggling the handle. After just a moment of this, though, another cramp hits and she turns to start down the wall, looking for any door, no matter where to, so long as it’s away from the office and/or towards a bathroom.

The walls seem to stretch on, there’s one door, locked, an office, locked, the bathroom, also locked... and the teddy’s just march on steadily after her playing her favorite song. Surely it’s not too bad? They haven’t been that mean to her so far in the times she’d seen them. After a few days, they’re almost acquaintances.

Despite past experiences with the teddy bears, Clarisse still finds that she needs to GO in a bad way, and that’s foremost on her mind in getting away from the marching brigade of plush toys. Unfortunately, keeping one foot out of the way of the other is NOT on her mind, and the young woman ends up taking a sudden tumble just a few steps past one of the locked doors, ending up sitting on her rear end and leaning against the wall. With a long sigh, she decides to not fight or run anymore, as her head is still pretty fuzzy, and she simply watches the bears getting closer impassively. Well, mostly impassively. She’s already starting to feel a twang of expectation.

As she sits and leans against the wall, her clothes change back from her meeting business attire to the soft sleeper and thick diaper that she’d had at her dream bar. It feels much nicer, and the office itself begins to fade as well, being slowly replaced by the colorful plastic playhouse and the hallway becoming the doorway to it. The bears marched their happy emotionless selves in through the door piling in a circle around her. Bottle bear gave her a pat on the side, before coming to push his bottle of wonderful juice into her mouth. Bandana bear followed behind him, coming with his large ’shaky’ wand. The other bears dropped their diapering supplies, finding her already dressed appropriately and helped pull her legs apart, hugging them with their soft fur. The bandana bear gave a salute and turned on his wand bringing it down to the front of her diaper.

Mouth full of sweet liquid and nipple, Clarisse could only give out soft moans as the pleasure returned, courtesy of the little wand the bear pressed against the outside of the thick cloth diapers, her legs squirming against the other bears’ grips as she fell into a blissful state much faster with the alcohol in her system than before. Forgotten is her need to go, so enraptured as she is with the feelings being ’forced’ upon her once again, though this time she doesn’t even pretend to fight it anymore, surrendering to the soft caresses and vibrations from betwixt her legs.

Clarisse, both in her dream and in real life, begins to relieve herself, feeling the warmth and relaxation wash over her and even feeling the tingling pleasure of a good orgasm as she used her diaper in a way she hadn’t before, the back crinkling as it expanded. The bears all hugged and pat at her, applauding that they didn’t need to chase her down and how accepting of this she was. She even began to sleep inside the dream, the feeling spreading out to all parts of her body and staying with her with the warmth of tipsiness all through the night and into the morning.

It almost still feels like a dream as Clarisse opens her eyes again. Being a little later in the morning than usual, the sunlight pouring through her window gives everything a very soft, too-bright look, and once again as she slowly wakes up, laying on her stomach, she lets one hand slip towards her diaper’s cover, squirming her hips against the sheets and her hand and reveling in the pleasure that’s still flowing through her body after the dream.

About twenty, very satisfying, minutes later, something hits her full on in the nostrils. A foul odor, wafting from somewhere near her in the apartment, and disrupting the fading afterglow of a very much more real orgasm than the one in her dream. Slowly, she rolls over and starts to sit up to try and figure out what’s causing her so much annoyance, only to stop mid-movement, feeling something completely unexpected. “Shit..." she mutters, frowning, and slowly, carefully slides out of bed, "I didn’t even think that was physically possible..." she complains, heading to the shower as quickly and bow-leggedly as she possibly can...

After her shower and having to deal with what she’d apparently done in her sleep, Clarisse found herself for the first time all week taking the morning to do absolutely nothing. She straightened up her apartment, took out the trash (which was making her room smell like a nursery at this point) and plopped down on the couch to find that Saturday morning cartoons were still on. Usually she wasn’t one to be for cartoons, but as she sat on the couch, she fell into a sort of daze like trance. Brightly colored shows, happy music; she felt some of her dreams swimming up to her mind and couldn’t seem to change the channel.

It wasn’t until the between-shows commercial break that Clarisse seemed to come back to her senses, finding herself sitting cross-legged on the couch, and feeling just a little more than upset that the show was going off. With a little shake of her head, she decided to just forget it, it was just a dumb kid’s show, and she got up, looking around for her purse and keys, intending to go out and pick up some stuff from the store before things got too busy out in the city here on the weekend.

Coming back through the room with things in hand, the young woman searched around for the remote for a moment, before her eyes were drawn back to the television screen, seeing that some new show was coming on, this one even more juvenile seeming than the last. With a huff, she tore her eyes away from the opening credits, intent on shutting the whole thing off as soon as she found the remote. However, in her search, she found her eyes continuing to slip back to the picture on the screen, and slowly, somehow, she finds herself sitting on the floor, as if entranced again, crossing her legs and letting her things lay discarded on the rug beside the coffee table as her attentions were once again drawn completely by the song and dance and colors.

There was something surreal about it. She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly fascinated by what she was watching, but she remembered her dreams and she remembered how pleasant juvenile things could be, and slowly, her thumb found its way to her mouth... and she began to feel a familiar pleasurable tingle between her legs. She wasn’t asleep, she wasn’t feeling the effects of the drugs, she was fully awake and she knew in her mind what she was doing and what she was watching, and she couldn’t seem to stop. She had just started to sneak her hand into her panties when suddenly her cell phone rang on the carpet beside her, booting her right out of the trance as if she’d been hurtling through car window after not wearing her seatbelt in an accident. She answered it a little flustered.

"Morning Clarisse, its (Accountant), I just wanted to make sure you made it home all right, you were pretty tipsy last night... and ... you kept babbling about the furniture store across the street." Clarisse didn’t remember doing this and wasn’t entirely sure what she’d said. The Accountant is a decent family man, and he seemed genuinely concerned.

"Oh, uh, oh..." she stammers, wiping her hand absently on the carpet to get the drool off of her thumb, "Right, that. Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it. I’m a light-weight, y’know." she chuckles, trying to play it off. Deep down, though, she was worried. Worried she’d said something really stupid. After the little incident at the board meeting, and the bears in the cub-- wait, that wasn’t real. Was it? Anyway, her position in the company was a little questionable, at least in her mind.

"And I live just around the corner, I was fine. Thank you for calling to check up, though." she says, sweetly, "But I’ve got to get going, need to run to the store and... get... stuff." she trailed off as the show started to return from its commercial break.

The accountant exchanged a pleasant goodbye before hanging up. Clarisse put the phone down, looking at the adult things she needed to do, her shopping, and then at the show coming back on. Not liking the stress, she blushed as slowly her thumb found its way to her mouth and she sat on the floor to watch the show.

It wasn’t for another half hour that the show was over and Clarisse realized she’d oddly enjoyed the simplicity and humor of it more than recent movies and adult sitcoms she’d seen. It was early afternoon now, and her tummy was a grumbling a little. Her gathered stuff from earlier still strewn on the floor nearby.

With an obvious feeling of regret, and a little pang of being actually emotionally upset at whoever decided on the weekend programming, since the next program coming on was (ugh!) golf, Clarisse gathered her things and actually headed out to grab some food and get the rest of her shopping done. Despite her better judgment, and since she needed a quick ’pick me up’, the McDonalds down the street seemed like the best ’guilty pleasure’ to perk her spirits, and with a giggle, she ordered a happy meal just for the hell of it. From there, it was to the local shops where, with some surprise, she found she actually had to stop every so often and focus on buying real food and not just junk. It was even to the point where at times she would find herself browsing certain parts of the store that she honestly had no business in. Cookies, chips, soda, baby products... Though this was the last section she found herself in before leaving, she somehow felt herself drawn towards the items, getting a little tingle down below at some of the ’familiar’ looking items, before tearing herself away and heading to the checkouts.

In line, a woman in front of her had a young toddler in the child seat on her cart, and it looked at her with an absent minded smile. Clarisse smiled back, humming ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’ to it and laughing a little in time as the toddler laughed back. The mother turned and smiled at her and she was caught for a moment, realizing she was making faces at a toddler and enjoying it way too much in the middle of a grocery store. With a blush she just faked a smile back and waited for her turn to purchase her groceries before getting in her car.

She got home and started putting stuff away. It was early evening now, and as she reached to put the cereal up high, she peed herself a little, and didn’t even feel it. She just kept putting things away in her pantry.

Halfway through the groceries, she pulled out, to her surprise, a small container of baby powder/baby oil two-pack. Slowly, she blinked, as if not believing how she could have blocked out paying for that, but sure enough the items were on her receipt when she went and looked again. So, with a strange occurrence like this, it’s completely understandable that she still hadn’t noticed the little warm wet stain on the crotch of her jeans. With a shrug, Clarisse goes and tosses the oil and powder onto her bed, then finishes up with the rest of the groceries before sighing a bit, grabbing a glass of apple juice, and slumping down on the floor again. It wasn’t even that late, but already she was feeling a little worn out, so as per her plan, she grabbed the TV remote and booted up her Netflix account, trying to find something to watch for a while.

After a bit of searching through new comedies, romantic drams, political thrillers, and even delving for a brief moment into the Sci-Fi category, Clarisse was very nearly at her frustration point. It was then that she came across the new releases, seeing that the show from earlier, the toddler’s learning show, had all of its back-seasons on the service for free. And that is where Clarisse sat, starting with the very first episode, trying to catch up on the show while the little wet spot on her pants went ignored, even while it cooled to what would normally be a point of distraction. The colors and shapes were far more distracting, it seems.

It was getting later in the evening by the time Clarisse managed to turn off the TV. She had been watching children’s program for two whole hours, and couldn’t seem to figure out why it was so much better then she remembered it being. She was vaguely aroused at the thought that it was ’wrong’ to be watching it, but mostly she just sat there, totally relaxed and content. It wasn’t till she felt a need to potty that she got up and casually turned the TV off, feeling more herself after such a lazy afternoon. Going into the bathroom though she pulled down her jeans and sat on the toilet, only to see that her underwear was stained a bit yellow, and her jeans didn’t seem quite right either.

"What the...?" she asked herself, reaching down to touch the stains as if not sure what could have caused it, and when her fingers come away slightly damp and smelling of urine, she frowned, wondering how long they’d been like that and she not noticed. After finishing her business and tossing her soiled garments into the washer, she went back into the living room, naked from the waist down, to see if the carpet was wet. There was a tiny spot, but not enough to really worry about, but it didn’t answer the question of ’when’ she’d peed herself. For a moment she considered watching more of the cartoons, then shook her head at the distraction, shutting down the Netflix and all, and gathering her pills and a glass of water, retreating to her room. She was still feeling that little twinge from the cartoons earlier still, and the mystery of the wet panties could wait. She had dreams to get to. So after getting herself properly attired for bed, taking her medicine, and laying down, a smile on her face, she didn’t even realize that she was wetting a little just as she started to drift off to dreamland once more.

A soft lullaby she hadn’t heard before began to play softly in her mind. She’d drifted off to sleep almost giddy with the feelings of the drugs, enjoying and to a point even anticipating that glow she got in the morning. Her dreams tonight didn’t come right away. She drifted in peaceful sleep for an hour or two, before the drugs pushed past the days memories of cartoons and happy shapes and sounds and brought her to a chair... she was sitting in a high chair, a simple wooden one, with a plastic tray locked in place over her arms and lap. A tall but pretty female came into the room, the lullaby played louder, and she could make out the features of this woman, but didn’t seem to recognize her beyond just blond hair and a pretty face. The dreams were getting realer. She could smell the kitchen, and she could feel the chair slightly cramping her arms together, and she could hear the woman as she approached with a big plastic bowl and wooden spoon. "Mmm! Bet someone’s hungry," she said putting the spoon in the bowl... And Clarisse could smell it. The bowl seemed to be filled with black tar and smelt like engine oil cut with nail polish.

Was she even in a dream anymore? This one seemed so vivid, and other than the surreal situation and setting, everything seemed so real that it was hard to tell. Dream or no, though, the bowl of crud in front of her on the tray was disgusting, and in response Clarisse could not help but cringe away and nearly gag.

"Ugh, what the hell is that mess?" she asked, feeling somewhat offended that anyone would put something like this in front of her to presumably eat. She swung her legs a little, and found them bumping against a padded foot-rest of some sort, tilted out slightly so as to remove any sort of leverage she might get from pushing against the frame of the high chair. Unfortunately, the tray also hid any way to see what she might be wearing beneath it, but she could tell that all she had on her chest was a large terry-cloth bib.

The woman dug with the spoon, and had to put some muscle into it to get a glop of the stuff onto the wooden spoon. She held it up with a smile, the sludge looking like a low level monster you’d fight in the starting area of an RPG. "Eat up, its chicken and mashed potatoes," she smiled, pushing the spoon toward Clarisse and seeing her reluctance, trying to push past, and only managing to dab at her right cheek and then on her top lip, none of it getting to her mouth, but this woman starting to smile like this might turn into a fun game of trying to feed ’the baby’.

With her lips pressed as tightly together as she could keep them, Clarisse kept turning her head to one side then the other, struggling to get her arms free of the tray. "Mmmon..." she mumbles, trying to keep her lips tight, "Oo an’ a’e e ea ah!" [Woman, you can’t make me eat that!]

"Awww come on, don’t be a fussy baby," she said trying again, and only giggling as her attempts ended up as splotches on Clarisse’s cheeks. "Just a little? For me?" she asked stopping her assault to steady the spoon. She reached under the tray to give the front of Clarisse’s diaper a pat. She was in nothing but her thick diapers and a bib at the moment, and the woman seemed worried that the state of Clarisse’s diaper could be the source of her fussiness. Finding her dry though, she gave her one more pat that was a bit more sensual then an actual mother would give and presented the spoon once more, finding purchase at Clarisse’s lower lip, and a tiny dab of the stuff reaching in for her to taste. It didn’t taste good, but it didn’t taste as dismal as it looked either. It was bland and sticky mush, from what little she got, and although edible, not entirely pleasant.

The little sensual rub did make her give out a little intake of breath, and thus found herself with a mouthful of the unpleasant flavor. It was edible, that’s for sure, so she slowly ’chewed’ the goop, and eventually managed to get it down, using all herself control to not gag it back up.

"Uh... bluh... what IS this stuff?" she asked, loudly, squirming in her seat and feeling the thick diaper beneath her bottom rubbing against her. "It ... uhg....."

Finding her mouth opening and her not resisting, another helping was quick to get pushed into her mouth, and another after that before she was even done chewing it. The taste had somehow slightly improved, it was still bland, but it was slowly starting to be bland like oatmeal, instead of just ’vaguely unpleasant’. As she squirmed in her seat, the tingle in her nether regions was getting a little better with the taste of the food, and she found that there was a strap running up between her legs to connect with the bar that supported the tray. As she moved a little, that strapped pressed against her. The woman smiled as she tried to chew, some of it rolling down her chin with how full her mouth was. "There’s a good baby," she cooed, "Eat up for mommy,"

In an effort to simultaneously get further from the spoon and closer to ’heaven’, the girl slumps heavily in the seat, trying to arrange that strap in such a way as to afford her the maximum amount of contact in the maximum amount of places, but even then she can’t escape the feeding. Changing tactics, and finding that the food wasn’t exactly unpalatable, she switched to trying to eat it as fast as she could instead, even if that meant covering her chin and bib with what couldn’t get down her gullet. As her diaper made direct contact with the strap and pressed against her, she couldn’t help but shudder a bit, and the little involuntary spasm caused more of her food to find its way out of her mouth and down her face.

As she got into and began to work toward the feelings of pleasure, the bowl of food slowly began to change with each spoonful. At first black tar, it was slowly turning gray, and then gaining color toward a pale orange. The food went from oatmeal tasting, to something vaguely resembling carrots, and finally something almost like sweet potatoes. She was chewing and swallowing, and building herself into a frenzy. By the time the bowl was just about empty, the food was actually pretty good, and although she wasn’t full, her body felt fantastic and she could feel close to what she wanted... but then... the woman took her out of her good feelings with a cold washcloth that was being dragged across her cheeks and mouth, cleaning up all the excess that had gotten her. Her bib was even a mess. Before she could find that feeling that she craved, the tray was removed, and this large woman lifted her up and out of the chair. "There we go, almost done with your feeding, just have to get you some milkies," she said taking the woman to the next room, which somehow looked like the living room of the old house that Clarisse grew up in. The woman sat on the room’s couch and pulled up simple shirt, showing a maternity bra. "Here we go, hope you saved room for momma," she said as she opened her bra and Clarisse found her breast presented to her. The woman was cradling her in such a way that her diaper seat was pressed against the woman’s thigh, and the tingling returned.

Without so much as a second thought, the young professional leaned forward and pressed her lips against the proffered teat, latching her lips almost instinctively to the flesh and starting to suckle greedily, but it’s just a ruse to gyrate her hips against the woman’s thigh. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the more she pleasured herself in this dream world, or was pleasured, the better things got and felt, and even tasted. Or was it the other way around? Regardless, Clarisse was starting to feel a little like a slut, giving it up to any dream that came her way, but it felt so GOOD and, really, what was the harm in a little dream here and there? In fact, her dreams were feeling so good this past week that even her little accidents fell to the back of her mind. Maybe she hadn’t really peed herself at work, or whenever she’d done it the day before. It was probably just a dream, anyway, so no harm no foul. Right now, the moment was all that mattered, and as she fell into the infantile feeding frenzy, the pleasure down below became just a constant little warm glow in a bigger sea of comforting release, emotionally and physically.

Clarisse nursed, and worked her hips, the woman giggling at how enthusiastic her baby had gotten. She bounced her leg a little, providing Clarisse just the stimuli she needed. The girl bit down a little, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise as she suddenly came hard in her diaper, a spray of milk from her rougher momentary nursing causing her to sputter even as her body went through a few nerve overloading sensations all at once. As she came off her high, she was still nursing, calmer now, relaxed, the woman gently singing to her as she finished the last of the milk offered. After a few minutes, or maybe a whole hour, Clarisse wasn’t entirely sure, she was taken off the breast, and held up to the woman’s shoulder. There were some firm pats at her back and with a feeling of bubbling gas in her tummy, Clarisse let out a burp, and could feel a complete lack of control as she heavily wet her diaper at the same time."Awww there’s a good baby," the woman said, patting Clarisse on the bottom. After dabbing her mouth again, Clarisse found she was immensely tired, her dream fading to black as she laid against the woman’s shoulder.

Upon returning to the waking world, she didn’t feel that urgent need to pleasure herself again, though Clarisse was very calm and relaxed, laying in her big soft bed, wet diaper clinging to her as she simply laid in the warm afterglow of the mental release. A small pressure in her rear didn’t even give her a second thought as she merely relaxed, beginning to let that flow out of her, so intent on not disturbing her ’dream’ as she was. But the rest of the world wasn’t quite so polite, and just as the girl’s bowels were starting to push their way out into her diaper in a leisurely manner, a horn outside in the street let out a loud honk, and Clarisse’s eyes bolted open, coming fully awake. In her surprise, she tensed, and thus pushed the mess more quickly into her waiting padding, and that’s the first thing she really remembered that morning was sitting up in bed and messing herself in what seemed like an uncontrollable manner. Shocked, it took her a few minutes to finally ease out of bed, and once again shower and clean up, upset about having to take the trash out for the second day in a row.

Two parts of Clarisse’s mind were at odds now. One part of her liked the dreams, and loved the way she felt. It was addictive and magnificent, and even naughty to feel this good... but another part of her didn’t like where this was going. She’d semi-consciously messed herself this morning and she knew it. She also worried about how much she liked these pills and their affects. The doctor said she didn’t want to attach any negative feelings to her charity and help with her ’problems’ as they were a week ago... but she couldn’t shake the feeling that her extra dosage was tipping her overboard... and that tomorrow she’d really need to sit down with the doctor to find out what was wrong.

All throughout the day on Sunday, Clarisse tried to keep herself focused and to avoid anything even remotely childish or arousing. Her awakening that morning had scared her more than anything else so far, even the two little wet accidents she’d experienced. Having a bit of a damp crotch wasn’t the same as waking up in the middle of shitting in one’s bed. Unfortunately, her current mental state, and the fact that she’d been double-dosing the medication every night was working against her, and by mid-afternoon, she once again found herself sitting in front of the television watching more old episodes of that children’s show, one hand down the front of her pants gently massaging the outside of her panties, the other hand’s thumb firmly in her mouth.

It was during commercial on one of her shows that things took an odd turn. She had been idly pleasuring herself and sucking on her thumb, when... out of the bathroom on the other side of the room, the teddy bear parade came marching, playing her favorite song. The music was easily discernible over the noise of the commercials to her.

She blinked, and shook her head, but the parade kept coming, as real as anything else she’d seen lately. They were between her and the front door, and again Clarisse had to question whether or not she was trapped in another dream, whether she’d dozed off while watching TV or if this was something entirely different. Having nowhere to run, however, she simply pulled her hand from her pants and tried to hug close to herself, hoping beyond hope that they’d simply go away on their own. She wasn’t afraid of them, that’s for certain, but at the same time she didn’t want them in her apartment. What if the neighbors heard and came to see what was happening? What if they called the cops? Worse yet, what if this wasn’t real and they simply locked her up? No, Clarisse clenched her jaws, and while staring straight at the oncoming fuzz train, mentally demanded that her brain tell them to get lost until she went to bed, at least.

The parade continued across the room, coming to her and circling like on tour of her. When they’d ringed themselves around her, the last one stopped his playing on the child’s xylophone and each of them stood still, looking impassively at her. They were in each of her dreams and seemed to be the same through all of them. There were about a dozen of them, each with a different item. The music bear, the diaper pack bear, the powder bear, the wipes bear, the bandana bear with the ’massager’, the baby bottle bear, the folded up onesie holding bear, etc. They stayed in a circle around her, looking like they were waiting for an order or something to do.

Clarisse blinked, not used to them simply waiting there for her to act, so tentatively she stammered a little, "Uh, jump?" she asked one of them, and it did a little hop. Then they started playing again, this time it was the theme song from the show she’d been watching, but somehow on their little instruments it sounded faint and thin, as if coming from several rooms away. Slowly, remembering how good it felt to just let these things have their way, Clarisse laid herself back and smiled. "Okay," she muttered, blocking out how surreal this was, "Do it, go on." she says, the mental stress of a waking hallucination was just not what she wanted to put up with today. The weight of the week was crashing down on here since this morning’s rude awakening, and she just wanted all this crap to go away, and if that meant letting the bears play themselves out, then so be it.

It was only later, after the bears had diapered, dressed, fed, and pleasured her did she finally open her eyes, finding herself laying on the floor of her apartment with one hand down the front of her... diaper? And it was wet? Slowly she sat up and looked around, the afterglow of her orgasm being brushed away by the questions in her head. She could see some of her clothes between where she lay and her bedroom, so either she had gone, diapered herself, then masturbated to the TV show unaware, or she really was going crazy. Unintentionally, she began to cry, just a little, and hugged her legs, rocking back and forth while humming a soothing tune to herself.

The more she looked around the more she worried. The powder and oil that she’d inadvertently bought the other day at the store were both on the floor near her, obviously opened, and apparently she’d used them on herself, but she couldn’t remember doing it. She slowly stuck her thumb in her mouth as she hugged her legs, taking at least some comfort in it. Had she been asleep? Had she been awake and just... not there? She needed to get to her doctor in the morning, she need to be looked at thoroughly because this was getting out of hand. Even as she sat hugging her legs in a wet diaper, she felt the front warming a bit again.

The young woman finally began to calm down after a couple of hours of trying to think things through, reassuring herself that the doctor would have a solution for all of this. Slowly, she unfolded herself, amazed at how wet her diaper was. Was it this wet when she’d come out of her little trance? With a calm, confident shake of her head, she pushed that aside, along with all the rest of her worries, and cleaned herself up in the shower, resolved to just relax the rest of the day. It had felt really good to simply have a good little soothing cry, though, almost cathartic, and a clean pair of panties felt good after she got out of the shower. The rest of the evening went without any incident further, though her entire apartment now smelled like the back end of a particularly well-oiled and powdered baby. She skipped the meds that night, just to be on the safe side, and with her thumb in her mouth and clean diaper on her ass, Clarisse fell into the first thankfully dreamless sleep she’d had since starting the medicine, though she still woke up wet and a little aroused the next morning.

With a feeling of trepidation, like she might be heading into a meeting of bad news, Clarisse found herself in the waiting office of her clinic. The same bored expressionist noticed her presence, and seemed to do nothing about it for a full fifteen minutes before calling the doctor. "She’s here," she said simply and unintelligently as she popped a bubble of gum. Doctor Veronica made her way out to the waiting room am moment later, putting on her winning smile. "Clarisse, come in come in, how are you feeling? No more cold? We’ll head back to my office and discuss your medication," she said as she led the way to not the first examination room, but the second, with an odd closet that Clarisse hadn’t been in before.

Clarisse nervously rubbed one of her biceps as she took a seat on the examining table. "Oh, right, yeah, the cold seems to have gone away, but... I’ve been having... other problems." she said, nervously.

Without waiting for an answer, she launched into an explanation, the words falling out of her mouth almost uncontrollably. She told about the dreams, the bedwetting, the two messes, the first in her sleep, the second the day previous, the bears, the loss of time from Sunday, the weird things she’d been seeing, and most embarrassingly of all, her body’s sexual responses to all of it. Even in telling she couldn’t help but feel herself get a little wet, but she clenched down, unsure if the warmth she felt just then was another tiny accident or something else. “So... that’s where I am." she said, at last, "I’m not sure if it’s the medicine or not, maybe it’s just work stress, but it’s all been really weird."

Dr. Veronica blinked at first, she’d been taking detailed notes the whole time, but the results had been better then she expected. The patient was showing excellent signs of conditioning and looked to be ahead of schedule. "Hallucinating during the day and the loss of time is extremely unsettling. This may be freak body reaction to the medicine or some perverse compound of symptoms from your recent cold and stress... I’d like you to consider staying here at the clinic overnight for observation. I live nearby and I wouldn’t mind taking over the front examination room to better document your illness," she said trying to hide the bit of excitement behind her eyes.

"I don’t think work would be a good idea today, especially the way you’re weekend went. I don’t want you falling into a daze that could potentially upset your standing in the workplace. Whatever is wrong with you, and I intend to do everything I can to find out, is probably something best kept quiet and not explained in full to your workplace."

Nervously, Clarisse looked around the room. "Stay... overnight?" she asked, a little bit uncertainly. "I mean, I could. I’d have to go home and pack an overnight bag, and I’ve got some time saved up at work so that shouldn’t be too big of a problem." She said, then sighed, her upbringing always having been ’trust in doctors, they are professionals’. "Alright. What time should I come back, then? If there’s anything you think you can do, Doctor, I’d really appreciate it."

The doctor thought a moment about convincing her not to go home, since she could just work some lie about having her stay in a hospital gown, but thought better of it and decided to ease her into it. "Be back by four. I’ll pick up some food for tonight. I’ll treat and we can go through some more thorough tests. I’m going to have you take the medicine tonight just so I can document your body’s reaction to it. Be sure to drink lots of fluids today, okay?“ The Doctor smiled, even as she tapped at her cell phone in her coat pocket... which she had programmed with a soft tone of ’Bah Bah Black Sheep’. She tried to hide a grin.

With a frown, and a little glance around the office to make sure there weren’t any teddy bears out to get her, Clarisse nodded, and got up from the examining table, unknowingly leaving a small wet spot behind her and a bit of a stain on the back of her skirt. "Thanks, doctor. I’ll... yeah, I’ll be back. Thanks again." she said, then hurried out to get packed and be back by four. It wasn’t until she got home that she discovered her little slip-up, and again just tossed the soiled garments into the hamper with the others. She’d clean them later. Instead she packed a spare diaper, some overnight clothes, the oil and powder (just in case) and then spent the rest of the afternoon within clear sight of the toilet before getting her things gathered to return to the office.

Back in the clinic the Doctor missed the spot on the chair at first, having gone to check her inventory one more time in anticipation, but coming back out it caught her eye and she stopped mid-step to look at it. "Is that..?" only her patient Clarisse had been sitting there and she looked at the spot as a smile grew on her face. She’d be a good subject indeed. When four rolled around the Doctor had assembled quite a few things in her hidden extra rooms. She also had a slightly more potent version of the medicine ready should she need it. "Welcome back Clarisse, I’m sorry again for all you’ve gone through, I won’t sleep tonight until I’ve gotten to the bottom of it," she said with a genuine smile as she led her back to the second exam room. She had the chair in the middle of the room with a piece of paper taped to its top. -Don’t sit, WET! And drying- it said in bold print.

Clarisse blinked at the chair, then shook her head and looked back to the Doctor, setting her overnight bag on the counter top. "Okay... So do we just wait ’till I fall asleep, then?" she asked, curious about the chair, but some part of her knew exactly what was going on there. "I’m not really tired right now, so are we going to do blood tests or anything?" she purposefully avoided mentioning urine tests, noting the little dark spot on the chair.

The doctor went to a bag she had on the counter, getting out a plain white, but much thicker diaper then the one Clarisse had been using. "First, I’d like you dress yourself in this. That chair over there is a bad indicator that some daytime protection might be necessary until this clears up for you. This is meant more for the nighttime and you won’t be able to conceal it under your clothes, but since it’s just you and me for the afternoon, I think it might be prudent."

The doctor also got a big glass of water and set it on the counter, next to what looked like the pill she’d been taking this week, but was a more concentrated dose (4x). "And please take this. I’d like to see the affects while you’re awake," she said showing the two to Clarisse.

Clarisse looks at the diaper trepidatiously, wondering about it, then her cheeks flush red a little as she looks back over at the chair with the sign on it. "Uh, can I get a little privacy, then?" she asks, shifting around where she sits, partially checking to make sure she didn’t accidentally ’go’ any more, and also just out of sheer embarassment.

Dr. Veronica nods slowly. "Yes, you may," she says, like she had a stake whether nor not Clarisse could undress herself. "I’ll be shutting up the clinic and locking the front door since it’s the end of office hours anyways, go ahead and change and take the medicine with water, I’ll be back shortly," she says going to lock the front door.

While Clarisse is changing she goes to her office, sitting at her desk and turning on a hidden camera feed. She also activates a soft bit of music just to watch her patient as she prepped herself for the evening.

The young lady obviously felt more comfortable being alone to get ’prepared’, and it doesn’t take long for her to get her skirt off and the diaper on. She doesn’t seem to immediately react to the music playing over the speaker, though she does take the concentrated pill without so much as a second thought. However, as she drinks, it becomes apparent that she was actually humming along with the music, and seems to be somewhat relaxed, easing herself back down on the examining table, since the chair is still wet, and swinging her legs slightly.

The diaper is quite evident on her, and she keeps her legs spread apart as she sits and waits, every so often a hand slipping between her legs to feel the outer covering there. She’s also a little squirmy, it seems, and the girl just can’t seem to sit still, all the while humming along with the nursery music.

Seeing that she’d finished dressing and approving of her reaction to the situation, Veronica went to join her, leaving the music on as she did to help with gentle reinforcement. She smiled as she found her sitting on the exam table. "There we go, protected against any accidents," Dr. Veronica said with an affection pat to the front of her diaper. "Now if you can, I know this medicine will make you a little sleepy, but I’ll need you to stay awake the best you can while I go through some tests," she said as she got out a flash light, checking for dilated eyes, and tapping her knee with a little hammer for response, and general doing a thorough and basic examination to see just how ’there’ Clarisse was.

After about 15 minutes of tests though, Clarisse was sleepy, and worse, the room she’d been sitting in was getting a little more colorful, the walls seemed to be painting themselves pastel and the doctor seemed to have the two of the teddies on her, one sitting on each shoulder.

Clarisse smiled at the now familiar bears, waving a little when she thought the doctor wasn’t watching, the enhanced version of the drug making her a little more easily accepting of these sorts of things. She’s also apparently a bit more ’feisty’ than usual, squirming about on the table, sneaking a quick rub of her diaper when Veronica’s back was turned, and generally being a little on the giddy side.

"Your walls are very pretty, doctor. Did you paint them recently?" she asks, her voice a bit lilting and slightly slurred. "And you should probably set the bears down." she giggles, "They look heavy. I can play with them if you want, to keep them busy." she suggests.

Dr. Veronica just plays along. "Oh? Do you like the walls? What color do they seem to you? I wasn’t really sure what it’d look like in this light," she asked, figuring the medicine was starting to affect her. The bear remark made her smirk. "Oh you can take them if you want, just reach up and grab them," she said not sure exactly where they were since there really weren’t any bears.

The fact she was having visual hallucinations and starting to slide was about what Doctor Veronica expected. It’d probably be a good time to move things along. "Why don’t you do something for me, you still with me Clarisse? I want you to close your eyes and take my hand, I’m going to bring you into the next exam room for another test."

As soon as the doctor said something about taking the bears, the girl reached for one, only to have it jump off of Veronica’s shoulder and hobble across the room, hopping a little as if saying ’Come get me!’. She was about to follow, when the doctor made the request, and suddenly she seemed to ’click’ back into what passes for reality. The walls were still that calming, juvenile pastel color that seemed to shift between yellow, pink and a light blue, but the other bear was gone.

"Oh, yes, sorry, I was just a little distracted." she says, covering for her lack of attention. With a bit of a frown, she slides off the table and takes the doctor’s hand, maybe a little disappointed that the bear ran away from her. "Okay.. .Just don’t bump me into any walls." she tries to joke lamely, closing her eyes tightly and wavering a bit on her feet as if drunk.

Dr. Veronica took a step toward the wall and opened the hidden panel, giving them access to the extra hall. She didn’t want the girl seeing it since it could be damning if she was lucid enough later to remember what happened. She brought her through the door and into a small but homely playroom, the walls were an actual pastel pink and there were teddy bears (albeit inanimate ones) on the floor near a pile of pillows in the corner. "Okay here we are," Dr. Veronica was counting on the things she’d hallucinated in the other room to just normalize this.

Clarisse opens her eyes onto the little room, and despite herself a little smile crosses her lips. Slowly, haltingly, and unsteadily, she totters over to the pile of pillows and the teddy bears, plopping down in the middle of them unceremoniously, and starting up a little conversation. From the outside, it looked like she was simply losing her mind, talking to the bears, but in her head, they were at least moving enough to carry on a ’conversation’.

"Oh, hello!" she says, addressing the unfamiliar animals, "Are you all friends of the other bears? None of you have any of their stuff, though." Then she giggles at one, "Well aren’t you cheeky?" she says, eyes drooping, and it’s quite obvious she’s struggling to stay awake. However, as she moves around, it’s easy to note that there’s a discoloration in the crotch of her diaper, just a small spot, but there regardless.

"Mmmm..." she says, still talking to the bears, "Can any of you tell me where the bed is?" she slurs.

Veronica waits at the door, watching the girl quietly and taking note that she was talking to the bears. She’d mentioned them in her talks about her dreams and Dr. Veronica smiled at the coincidence that her ’playroom’ had some and the poor girl’s mind just seemed to focus right on them. She felt a nice little spike of pleasure as apparently she had human putty to work with at this point.

She came up behind Clarisse, not wanting to distract her from her play, but rather looking to work with it. "Aww cutie, wanna answer a quick question for me hun? Do you know what your bladder is?" she asked.

The young professional stopped talking to the bears, looking up at the doctor with a bit of confusion in her eyes for a moment, and then she slowly nodded, as if the woman were speaking to her from a distant dream. "Of course." she says, squirming a little and hugging a bear tightly to her middle. "It’s that ... thing... here..." she says, pointing at her crotch, "That makes pee happen..." she smiles as if pleased with her own response.

As she spoke, though, she again swayed back and forth, that same little smile on her lips, seeming at peace and content in the large, soft playroom, all the edges made fuzzy by the chemicals in her system. She knew that something felt ’warm’ where the doctor was asking about, but it also felt really good at the moment. Not just there, but all over. A part of her wanted the woman to go away so she could see to that pleasure a bit more privately, but at the same time, she almost didn’t care.

Veronica smiled more, seeing the girl sway. She put a hand out, taking her shoulder and guiding her onto her back. "That’s absolutely right, it makes pee," she said, giving the front of Clarisse’s diaper a pat, finding it a little wetter. "Do you need to pee more?" she asked as she continued to pat, trying to make it a bit more sensual in her rubbing. It seemed this girl was already starting to associate a good stimulus with her need to go. "It’s okay, I’ll change you in a little bit if you just want to use your diaper," she said sweetly.

Clarisse found herself suddenly on her back, unsure how she’d gotten there. She’d been talking to the doctor, right? But now the doctor was talking to her softly, nicely, and rubbing her the same way some of the bears had. She was skipping time, and some part of her brain knew that something was up, that this wasn’t right, but that part was quickly silenced by the drug-induced haze and pleasure. With one hand moving towards her mouth, and the other reaching down to press against the doctor’s hand on her crotch, she started to make little noises. Nothing loud or strange, just a mix between a hum and a satisfied moan.

With her hand holding Veronica’s in place, though, it’s fairly obvious when her bladder fully releases, having just had a little bit of a spurt earlier, now it seems her bladder is just relaxing fully. The diaper becomes warmer to the touch, bulkier, and starts to sag some, but the look of pleasure on Clarisse’s face makes it obvious that she’s enjoying it.

Dr. Veronica just coo’s small reassuring words, "That’s a good girl," she says, rubbing her. "We’ll get you feeling all better. Uh huh, whose a good little baby girl, hmm? Who’s a good, wet little baby girl…" She teases her along a few minutes, letting the girl bask in the room, the feelings and the haze, not bothering to try and keep her awake for any of it. She had the info she needed now. This girl was addicted to the drug, and she was going to end up with some dysfunctional problems given her pattern of recent behavior.

For her part, after relieving herself into the thick diaper, Clarisse squirmed her hips against her hand, letting the doctor’s go, but she seemed too relaxed, too tired to do anything more than squirm at herself. Eventually, one arm found its way around one of the bears, and she soon found herself drifting in and out of sleep, though it was hard to tell which was which, with a bear in the crook of her arm, her thumb in her mouth, and a warm, wet, satisfying diaper around her crotch. She could hear the doctor saying nice things, but she couldn’t even remember what the words meant she was so ’gone’ on the drug, and after a bit, it stopped mattering, as she fell into a deep, squirmy, euphoric sleep.

----

The first thing Clarisse noticed the next morning, even before opening her eyes, was her headache. It felt as if she’d been out all night drinking and was now suffering from a mild hangover. It wasn’t debilitating, but it was a constant little throbbing. The second thing she noticed was the smell. Without opening her eyes, she shifted her hips from side to side, confirming that she had once again voided in her sleep.

With a groan, she opened her eyes, and was momentarily surprised to see not her bedroom, but the examining room at Doctor Veronica’s office. She was laying on her side in a small hospital style bed, the guard rail firmly up and in place, and for an instant Clarisse panicked. Then it came back to her, how she’d come in for an overnight monitoring session, and the putting on of her current, thicker diaper, but after that everything was a bit of a blur. The only clear memories she had were of the nursery rhyme songs she thought she heard, and something about different bears. It could have been a dream, of course, seeing as how her dreams had been along those lines anyway, but something about it seemed odd this time.

Tentatively, not wanting to cause any bigger mess on her bottom than necessary, she lightly called out. "Hello? D..doctor Veronica?"

Dr. Veronica had passed out in her office on her long couch. She had spent part of the night ’reviewing’ some of the tape. She had been a little surprised how much it excited her that as she carried Clarisse back to the exam room, the girl had unconsciously messed herself. Poor thing was likely teetering on incontinence soon.

She got up and off her couch when she heard Clarisse down the hall. "Be there in a moment," she yawned, fixing her coat and buttoning her shirt back up again. Her hair was a bit messy, but she didn’t care. She walked into the exam room and tried to hide a smile. "It smells like a nursery in here, did..." she looked at Clarisse putting on an air of surprise. "Oooo honey, are you okay?" she asked, suddenly doting mother as she came up next to Clarisse.

The girl on the bed actually had her thumb very close to her mouth in the time it took to get from the office to the exam room, but she jerks it away quickly as the door knob turns, though not fast enough for it not to be noticed. She obviously doesn’t seem too terribly bothered by the messy diaper, more wanting to avoid a bigger mess than anything. As she shakes her head at the doctor, one hand idly, as if even she doesn’t notice it herself, moves to Clarisse’s crotch, lightly stroking the soiled diaper’s sagging, sodden front.

"Oh, no, I’m fine. Do you have a shower I can use, though? I’m really sorry about the smell. I didn’t mean to go like that, but it just sort of happened the last few days." she says, maybe a little embarrassed. "I just need to clean up."

Dr. Veronica nods. "Well I’m glad we put protection on you then," she says like the accident is no big thing, and to someone not so loopy, it would probably be detrimental, but Dr. Veronica just smiles. "Sure, there’s a small shower connected to my office, I’ll get your things and leave them outside the door. Let me just get a trash bag first so you can bag up your diaper. Sound good?"

Clarisse agrees to this, and after the shower she gets her clothes back on, and deposits the used diaper into the trash bag. As she returns to the examination room, she’s blissfully unaware that her moans of pleasure were easily heard through most of the office, especially since she’d not even waited until the water was running to start, the thought of being in a childishly dirty diaper just too much for her that morning, though it did seem to work the last bits of the drug out of her system.

Back in the room with the doctor, however, she seems somewhat positive, very satisfied, and seemingly well rested. She swivels on her butt as she talks to the doctor, like a restless toddler who wants to get out and go play instead of sit here and talk to some boring adult.

"Well? Did you learn anything? Any suggestions on how to.. get better?" she asks, and after a moment of what seems like a private struggle, she eventually asks, "IS there anything you noticed that’s causing my... problems.." she says, as if she doesn’t really believe it’s a problem anymore. Besides, how could a ’problem’ feel so good, sexually and otherwise?

"I won’t know everything right away, I want to send my notes to the drug manufacturer, it looks like it can be cleared up. Mostly you just passed out last night and apparently had an accident. I think half of it is still your stress taking vengeance on you, and I think the other half is the cold you came to me originally with. Colds can have some.. digestive track maladies, so I’d keep the padding on at night," she said with a nod. "I’ll give you more of the same prescription for now, go ahead and keep up the regular routine," she said, trying not to sound like after this many problems it wasn’t absolutely ridiculous to continue.

"Go ahead and take this note though, give it to your boss to let him know you are having a bad ’cold’ and that you may need a few minutes some days to take your medicine. It has my number if he wants to call, this should explain things if you need to step away from your desk because you’re ’having a little episode’ she said with bunny eared quotes, again explaining a major problem as if it was a minor sneezing fit.

The young professional takes the note and nods. "Thanks. I was going to ask for more anyway, I’m almost out." she admits, though that’s far from true, but though she wouldn’t admit it, she was addicted to the euphoria, and had planned on taking a dose in the morning as well as before bed, just to get through the day.

"Anything else? If not, I should probably get to work today and sort all of this out." she says, waving the note.

Dr. Veronica nods. "Take care, you have my number if anything happens," she said as she went to fill the prescription. She wasn’t stupid, she knew how many pills she gave to Clarisse in the first bottle. She was just feeding the cookie monster at this point.

Dr. Veronica decided to take a gamble and gave Clarisse a hug as she was leaving. "Good luck, and no worries, we’ll kick this thing," she said smiling. Hoping that she’d made an impression as a likable and caring doctor who genuinely understood her problem.

After stopping off at work and dropping the note off with her boss, Clarisse decided to take the rest of the day off and do a little bit of shopping to calm her nerves and mind, having felt really out of place back in the office. Before heading to the shops, though, she took one of the pills, having quite the internal debate before doing so, but took the comments about taking her medicine during the day from the doctor as reassurance that this was the right thing to do. It started off normal enough, picking up some groceries and such, but by about the third hour of shopping, she was happily humming along with nursery tunes while searching through the little girl’s department for clothes in her size, led around the store by a trio of happy, marching teddy bears pointing out different jumpers and shortalls sets. She didn’t even care anymore if they were there, she just felt good about it, smiling and humming. Besides, they’d done nothing but make her feel good since that first encounter in her dreams anyway.

Five hours and four hundred dollars’ worth of wardrobe later, Clarisse sat on her toilet at home, staring down at the little damp spot in her panties, and the only thought she could muster was "I’m glad I picked up those My Little Pony undies to replace these." That night, after another double dose of the drug, she slept and again dreamed of the bears and their antics, only this time she didn’t even try to fight it, collapsing into a blur of infantile treatment, sexual pleasure and release, waking again to a soaked diaper in her bed at home. She didn’t need to pleasure herself that morning, the dream had been that vivid, but she did notice the small wet spots on the bed where she’d leaked.

Taking a bit of initiative, she called Veronica’s office and left a message on her machine asking if it would be possible to order some of those thicker diapers through her, then she dressed in her new thick cotton panties, a nice blouse, and one of her new sundresses, which as it was made for a younger girl, fit her across, but only barely covered her ass, and like that she left for work, taking with her the medicine, minus one pill she took before heading out the door.

Heading into the office Clarisse was already turning heads. It wasn’t exactly ’business casual’ that she was wearing. A few of the guys she’d been drinking with even let out a chuckle when they saw the hint of what she might be wearing underneath. Luckily she didn’t have any meetings this morning, but she did have a proposal to work on, and the bears were already waiting in her cube to help.

Word of her wardrobe eventually reached her bosses ear. He frowned, thinking maybe it was a joke, or some type of costume. He made a note to stop by her desk in a little bit to offer a reminder and perhaps another copy on the company memo for dress code.

At a little after two in the afternoon, Clarisse was happily typing away on her proposal, while on her second monitor reruns of Sesame Street were on Netflix, against company policy, though she was wearing headphones and the screen was turned so that no one walking up to her would see it. This is how her boss found her then, pausing for a moment before clearing his throat to get her attention. She was dressed how people said, in a bright yellow sundress with a white blouse beneath. It wasn’t exactly formal business attire, but he didn’t see anything wrong with it. That was, until he stepped closer and realized that if the girl so much as walked too fast, anyone behind her would get a good view of whatever she had on beneath.

"Ah, Clarisse... You’re looking, well, festive today." He started, getting her attention away from the puppets. She looked up at him, a rather bland, slightly off smile on her face.

"Uh huh. Decided it was too sunny outside to be stuck in a stuffy dress." she says, trying to suppress a giggle at how serious her boss was. If only he could see the faces Bert and Ernie were making at him over his shoulder.

"Ah, right. Well, we do have a dress code, and if you want to wear something this... cheery..." he said, and despite himself found her dress and way of acting distressingly erotic, "Well, just make sure you keep it decent. Don’t need anyone--" He was cut off, though, by the young professional hopping up, hands pressing her dress to her lap.

"Sorry, uh, boss...man." she says, suddenly in a hurry as she grabbed her prescription bottle from her purse, "I need to go potty, and take my medicine! I’ll wear pants next time tomorrow!" she says, giving him a wide smile before brushing past him and off towards the restroom, the back of her dress flaring with every other step giving the man a great view of AppleJack grinning widely.

In the restroom, Clarisse felt happy that she managed to get most of her pee into the potty, and there was only a dime-sized wet spot on her new panties. She didn’t want to get them wet. As she washed her hands and took another pill, she felt confused suddenly, something telling her that there was something seriously wrong with Elmo not having a reflection in the mirror. She would expect that of The Count, but Elmo? Reaching out, she could swear she felt his soft red fur, but the harder she looked, the less real he seemed, though she could still hear his words of encouragement to keep dry while in public.

Clarisse washed her hands. Elmo danced around on the counter and sang about the importance of washing your hands, and making it to the bathroom on time and told Clarisse that she was a good friend and a good girl as she left the bathroom.

Word of her clothing spread quick. In a boring sea of cubicles, festive colors and juvenile behavior is something of a welcome distraction (if maybe a little like a train wreck as some of the more uptight co-workers shook their head in non-understanding). With another pill down, and after having had a dose this morning, and a much larger dose last night, Clarisse wasn’t coming off her cloud any time soon.

The bears were still in her cube when she got back, they had piled around and two of them had her headset spread between them both to watch Sesame Street. They hung out with her the rest of the day, and as she turned her proposal in electronically... .... her boss was a bit concerned. What should have been a business document noting the company’s plan for a new contract option, was instead FILLED with word art, pictures, and what seemed like a stream of consciousness typed out while playing with the bears.

Late that afternoon on the bus home, though, Clarisse was suddenly hit with a little urge to use the restroom. She was already getting a few looks for her attire and giddy attitude, especially with the singing nursery rhymes to no one in particular. Sitting in her seat, she suddenly became really quiet, placing her hands in her lap and squirming her hips back and forth. It wasn’t much of an urge, but she could feel it building. Her apartment was still five stops, roughly twenty minutes, away, and though it would probably feel very good to just relax and let it out, she’d also have to sit in it for the rest of the ride, and in her new panties no less. Those stains would be nearly impossible to get out.

As the young ’professional’ woman looked over at the seat next to her for guidance from the tiny Big Bird who was riding next to her, across town her boss looked between the submission and the note. Once he’d filtered out all the crap, there was actually a good proposal buried within. Then there was the note from the doctor, stating that Clarisse was on "special medication" for stress, and that if any of her activities or behaviors became erratic, to please contact her physician at a number printed on the letter head. He debated calling the number now, but decided to give it one more day, as the next day was Friday, and hopefully the young girl would be a bit more herself after a night’s rest.

Almost to her place, Clarisse was nearing the point of no return with her potty need. Just a few streets over, her eyes caught the furniture store across the bar that she’d been in during one of her dreams. Big bird was standing on the seat next to her in all her bright hallucinations and looking out the window with her. "Doesn’t that look like a nice place?" he offered as she watched it go by. A few choice memories of two dreams had near there were in her mind for just a glimmer as the bus rolled on.

Lost in a daydream and being told by her pal Big Bird to just relax and think about how nice it would be to replace her bed with something a little more... secure for sleeping in, or perhaps a nice playpen to keep her bears out of trouble during the day; they were almost always there the last few days, and she loved them; Clarisse slowly shifted her seating so that she was up on her knees, facing out the bus’s window, her rear poking out for all the world to see, including the slightly damp spot right in the middle of her crotch, unfortunately a bit larger than it had been at the office.

As her distraction grew, and her mind became a little more insistent on worrying about.. something… Clarisse’s knees began to spread further apart until she was straddling two whole seats, one finger in her mouth as she watched the outside world go by, a tingle in her brain telling her something was amiss, and her looking all the world confused for what it was. Across from her, an older mother stared dumbfounded at the girl, having seen this stance in her own toddlers before, and knew what it looked like was about to happen, but she could not tear her eyes away from this girl and her strange attire.

Just a couple of minutes after passing by the shops, Clarisse suddenly felt a strange wave of pleasure and release pass over her, a large, warm, solid feeling of relief, and suddenly she couldn’t wait to get home, her worries mysteriously lifted, the strange anxiety dropped. Finally at her stop, and almost in a daze, the girl skipped lightly off of the bus, with the bus driver having to open the window as she moved past with a giggle, though without seeing the stain or bulging sag just under her rear; like the rest of the bus who had seen her bottom in the air as she passed her load did; he thought maybe she just had gas.

At her apartment, she found a small box with a note on it at her door, stating to be from "Doctor V." Inside was a pack of the thicker diapers, along with a note about making sure to change frequently to avoid rashes. Giggling to herself, she took the box to the bedroom and laid the pack inside out on her bed for later.

She then went immediately to the television and flipped it on, hoping that the special child’s programming channel she’d added to her service selections had activated already. It had been, and she eased herself onto the floor, feeling something soft and mushy giving way under her. Slowly, she eased up onto her knees and reached through her legs, feeling the warm mass there, and finding herself surprised. When had that happened? She couldn’t remember anymore. Was she so bad off now that she was shitting her pants without realizing? One finger traced over the bulge, puzzling out the extent of the accident and coming back with ‘pretty severe’. How long had she been walking around like this? Since the office? Wait, she’d only been a little wet at the office, and Elmo had assured her that it wasn’t a big deal.

She was about to start to panic, upset at her loss of memory of the event, plus at ruining her new panties despite the six other pairs she had, but then the TV caught her attention with bright pastel colors and singing. The little infantile whine that had been building in the back of her throat, a prelude to a full on crying bout of a toddler in messy panties, died before it could continue on, and Clarisse sat back heavily on her bottom to watch the TV.

Before long, even her memory at being upset at finding herself with droopy, poopy panties was gone, replaced with the slow pleasure of her sitting in her mess, slowly fingering herself through the ruined underwear as every so often she felt a little bit of warm wetness push through the fabric. She realized she was sucking on her thumb, humming along with the songs and rocking back and forth, her panties becoming more and more sodden as the program wore on, the smell of the urine mingling with the mess on her bottom, but she didn’t care. Every little urge from her bladder was ignored as it simply flowed through, but none of them large enough to constitute a full wetting. It was about thirty minutes until the program went off, at which point she calmly got up, cleaned herself up as best should could with some toilet paper, and then put one of the new diapers on, still 3 hours before bedtime.

After putting the diaper on, Clarisse took a look at her closet. Most of her new outfits were still waiting to be worn and she smiled as she spun around a few times looking at them all. A thought occurred to her that she should change clothes, as the front hem of her skirt had gotten a bit wet as she watched TV, she sorted through the various overalls, dresses, shortalls, party dresses, and even a very fancy, very frilly ‘tea party’ dress. Not able to decide just yet, she felt a rumble in her tummy. Dinner! She was totally hungry. She skipped still wearing the dress from earlier into the kitchen, crinkling all the way and happily enjoying the childishness of it as she opened her fridge. She scanned around, settling on milk and cereal. That was dinner right?

She quickly proceeded to make a mess of the counter. Cereal till the bowl was curved with it, followed by an equal amount of milk that sloshed cheerios over the side. She left the carton open and sitting on the counter as she got a spoon and dug in while she was walking back to see more cartoons, munching loudly and getting small spatters of milk on her dress.

She spilt a little more as she plopped back down on the carpet, idly wondering what that weird smell was (as she’d simply left her soiled panties wadded up on the floor of the bathroom, not to mention the little brown and yellow stain on the carpet) and continued eating as she watched her show. Eventually, long after the milk had been slurped up, she found herself getting a little tired, yawning loudly. Leaving her mess and the milk on the counter, she stood up, wiping her hands on her dress again and going back to the bedroom. She did remember to set her alarm clock, though the bears playing Braham’s Lullaby to her as she got ready for bed almost distracted her to the point of forgetting.

As she stripped off her dress and socks, she poked at her diaper, finding it still dry where she touched it, despite it being not where she didn’t, and took another pair of pills from her medicine bottle. Idly she wished she could bring a glass of more milk to bed with her, but that would be silly. It’d spill all over. Slowly, she drifted off, thumb in her mouth as she clung to her pillows with the other arm, sung to dream land by the many cartoon and learning show characters she’d seen that day. Oddly, she couldn’t really tell anymore when she was dreaming or awake, one slipping in and out of the other seamlessly.

Having taken a rather large amount of medicine in the last 24 hours, Clarisse woke up tingling from head to toe. Her diaper was soaked, and her thumb was planted firmly in her mouth. She yawned around it, grinning a moment later as she pushed her alarm clock off the counter. Oscar the grouch shook his head disapprovingly from her trash can and told her she should get up, but she ignored him and began rubbing the front of her diaper again. The walls of her room reminded her of the walls at the clinic when she stayed the other night, colorful and interesting.

After she’d reached the point of ’feeling really good’ and with her thumb still in her mouth, she got up to shower and change. At Barney’s insistence she ’cleaned up, cleaned up’ that not good smell in her bathroom, only cleaning just meant putting it in the trash with her diaper. She got a quick shower and wandered out into her apartment naked, looking around at the bowl on the floor and the milk still on the counter. She was a tiny bit lucid and knew something was amiss, but thinking on it, she figured it was work. She needed to dress and get to work, ignoring the tiny trickle of urine down her inner thigh as she turned back towards the wardrobe.

Heading back into the bedroom, she pulled out a new pair of panties, this one with patterns from the kid’s show she’d been watching over the weekend, and slipped them up her legs. They were a tad thicker than the ones she’d had on yesterday, but she barely noticed, adjusting the late-stage trainers so that the ’Gerber’ logo was on the back, just above the obvious stitching for the extra bit of ’protection’.

Next, she started going through her closet to find something to wear. The boss man had been pretty mad that she’d been wearing just a simple dress the day before, so her first thought was to pull out the full-frilled party dress she’d bought. It was pretty, and soft, and despite Dora telling her it was ’Muy Bueno’, she shook her head.

"No, I promised him I’d wear pants today, so..." she said, placing the fancier outfit back and pulling out a pair of bright pink overalls with little brass flowers for buttons on the front, and a cat on the back pocket. Before she struggled that on, however, she got out one of her professional work shirts and wore it beneath the overalls. Small as they were, any time she bent over there was an obvious panty line and slightly padded bulge to her rear. Satisfied with her look after pulling her hair back into a ponytail for ease, Clarisse gathered her purse, took another dose of her medicine, and held the door open for her teddy bear friends before getting on the bus.

To the average bus rider, a girl wearing something very ’retro’ and childish was seated by herself, humming along and nodding her head left to right. For Clarisse, she was seated with the entire PBS lineup having a song and dance routine like an old Muppets movie in the back of the bus as she rode to work.

Coming into the office, she got the same stairs and even a few giggles as her outfit yesterday had turned some heads and today they just chuckled with what was obviously a running joke. Her boss spied her as he was coming in with coffee and he sighed. Pants. Overalls were technically not pants. Especially that color pink. The purpose of the dress code was to look professional... not like she’d gotten lost on the way to pre-school. He could already see the outfit was causing a little bit of a distraction for other employees.

At her desk, Clarisse actually managed to get some work done, despite being constantly distracted by one of the little teddy bears poking and prodding at her elbow all morning. Thankfully, the bus she was on knew how to get to Sesame Street, and had taken the Muppets there after she got off. Emails and reports and proposals were boring, though, and she kept finding herself either humming, or sucking her thumb while reading a new spreadsheet, or simply spinning in her office chair out of sheer and absolute boredom.

Taking extra care to pay attention to her potty needs, the young professional was rewarded with two successful trips to the toilet that morning, and not a drop in her undies. Even though she knew she should be proud, a little wave of disappointment at having to interrupt her ‘playing big important office girl’ to use the bathroom washed over her both times she sat down on the toilet.

Over in his office, her boss was waiting for someone at the clinic to pick up the phone. Eventually he left a voice mail, asking for the Doctor to call him back regarding Clarisse’s medications and actions. He didn’t even realize it, but they were both scheduled to be in a meeting later that morning, just before lunch. Despite the fact that her work hadn’t really suffered, except on a cosmetic level because really, using a curvy font was just a bit far, he wanted to make sure that he was right in what he wanted to do, which was put the girl on medical leave until this cleared up.

Some part of her knew about the meeting, and that translated to Elmo looking at his little plastic watch as he sat on the side of her desk and telling her it was time to go the party. She smiled, this was going to be fun! She couldn’t forget the birthday present though, and she grabbed her presentation and proposal her boss had e-mailed back the day before.

Leaving her cube she skipped along the isles, drawing a few chuckles from those who saw her. At one point she put out her hand for a high five from the accounting guy who’d called her the other day. He was dumbfounded, but offered a high five back as she skipped by in her juvenile attire.

"Was she just humming ’Skip To My Loo’?" he asked watching her go. At least she looked happy with whatever she was up to.

Clarisse came into the meeting, all stress gone from her body and announcing herself "I’m here!"

Everyone turned to look at her, some surprised, others having heard about her attire and demeanor already this morning, and from the day previous. There were several chuckles, and her boss, who was leading the presentation, rolled his eyes and waved at the table, having not heard back from this Doctor Veronica all morning.

"Excellent, Clarisse, we were just about to get started, so if everyone could please, just take a seat and try to act professional." he said, obviously stressed and not wanting to deal with this today. "First on the agenda is the report that our dear little junior associate," he said, snarkily at Clarisse with emphasis on ’little’ and ’junior’, "presented yesterday..."

As the meeting drug on, Clarisse was already upset at not being able to give her present to the man, but he apparently already had it, so instead she passed the boring time by squirming in her chair, doodling, and counting the holes in the perforated ceiling to herself. About halfway through the meeting, though, she suddenly needed to pee, badly. Looking at the clock, she frowned, as it still had a bunch of... times..? to go before the meeting was over. Pressing her hands between her legs, she tried to hold it in, squirming even more in her seat. No one seemed to notice, or at least were doing a good job pretending that they didn’t.

As she concentrated on holding in her pee pees, she watched the bandanna wearing teddy bear wander into the room. He seemed to sense that she needed to go potty and he was carrying his wand that he’d used on her a few times before. She bit her lower lip, she knew how good that could feel and she knew what the bear expected. Her squirming slowed a little and as the bear approached, he seemed to disappear again, but it didn’t matter to Clarisse.

Still biting her lip, her eyelids half shut and her eyes seemed to roll up as she looked toward the ceiling, remembering the wonderful warmth and wetness of her dream. The feeling intensified as her dream bridged into reality and there was a slight hissing that was just below the noise of the meeting chatter. It was only a little at first, and the training panties did their job and held back the initial assault. However, as the pleasure and pressure increased, that little leak turned into a full release, and Clarisse’s trainers buckled under the flood and her pink overalls were nothing but a short speed bump as urine pooled in her seat and began to drip to the carpeted floor below.

In her own mind, Clarisse was just happy, feeling relieved and letting her pleasure spread through her body, but most importantly around her bottom and crotch, a warm feeling of excitement. It didn’t even register to her that she’d just peed herself in a board room, unsure whether her feelings were physical or mental, and with a little childish "Mmmmm..." she closed her eyes and basked in it.

The person sitting next to her noticed the sound, and turned to see what she was trying to say, and noticed the start of the accident, watching it unfold as the girl stared off into space like a toddler as the wet spot on her crotch grew and spread out across the seat.

About a half hour later, she found herself sitting on a towel on a seat in her boss man’s office. Her bit of reality was with her again, and she stared at her still sodden lap as the phone was dialed to Doctor Veronica’s office. How had this happened to her? She’d just wanted to feel good, not pee all over herself at work, and now she was being put on medical leave?

Dr. Veronica got the call almost sooner then she expected. Poor girl must jave upped her dosage a little. "Yes, that is terribly unfortunate. I know, I worry about her too, I think this will be for the best," she said in response to some of the boss’s comments. "Just keep her there. I know she takes the bus, so I’ll just swing by and pick her up shortly," the doctor said.

With a spring in her step and a smile, she walked over and grabbed the keys for her old van. It was a ’soccer mom’ type car, but useful in her ’supply business’ as it drew less attention then her Mercedes SLK. It also had a nice middle seat that would be large enough to diaper up Clarisse. If she took the man on the phone’s meaning, the girl really needed it now.

Twenty minutes later she was meeting the boss and taking Clarisse with her, offering the sobbing girl a hug. They might as well have been in the principal’s office with Clarisse the wayward 1st grader who’d just gotten a little too excited during class.

Things were a sort of a blur for Clarisse, though, as she only heard half of the conversation with the doctor. Once Veronica arrived, she nearly collapsed into her arms and walked with her out to the van, clutching her hand.

"I just don’t know what’s wrong." she was saying, "I was just sitting there, and I was feeling really good, and my bear friend came in to talk to me, and then next thing I know people were talking and pointing and I had to go to the bathroom and clean up." she says, though she seems more upset about the aftermath than the accident itself. Stopping, she looked up at the van, sniffling. "Where are we going?"

"Back to my clinic dear. Your boss is putting you on medical leave and I’ve got some results back from the pharmaceutical company. Don’t worry we’ll get this sorted out," she said as she opened the side door. Before Clarisse could have a chance to explain, she took a pacifier and stuck it in the girl’s mouth. She proceeded to unhook her overalls, letting the damp garment fall to the ground in the parking garage, showing her in just her wet trainers.

There was already a changing mat spread on the long middle seat, and Dr. V guided her too it, making a big show of ‘checking’ her training panties. "Oh, my, honey! I don’t know who ever put you in these thin little things. Let’s get you into something dry," she said as the girl was laid down. She pulled off her panties and proceeded to wipe her down with a baby wipe, powdering her and taping her in one of the cute and very childish diapers.

As her shortalls were dropped, Clarisse didn’t even seem to notice, her soaked trainers on prominent display for anyone walking by. The pacifier went nearly unnoticed, save for her crossing her eyes slightly to try and see what it was or what it looked like, but suddenly found herself propelled forward into the van, gently but firmly. Even so, as she was laying back, another, fresh wet spot appeared briefly to add to her already soaked panties.

Once back in a clean diaper, however, the young woman’s attitude changed drastically, and she pulled at the top waistband of the garment, looking at the cartoon characters printed on the outer covering with a little giggle. She looked up at the doctor from where she sat in the van and took the pacifier out of her mouth to speak.

"Can we go back to my place first? I got some really cool clothes I wanna show you, and if I’m going to a sleepover, I need something to wear." she says cheerily, as if simply being in dry pants was enough to completely reverse her weepy mood.

Dr. V smiled. "Of course hun," she said as she sat the girl up. "Wait here one moment," she said before going to the back of the van and bringing up an oversized car seat. She wasn’t sure it’d be all right when she’d packed it, but it seemed Clarisse was willing to go along with anything now. She set it up in the middle of the bench and then got Clarisse strapped into it.

Sitting in the front of the Van, Dr. Veronica smiled, looking up into the mirror. The childish t-shirt, a thick diaper spreading her legs apart, and the four point baby seat harness made the girl look adorable. Clarisse even sucked gently on her pacifier, seeming to like this kind of car ride as she watched outside the window with the car pulling out of the garage.

All the way back to her apartment, the formerly young professional swings her legs and bobs her head to music only she can hear, sucking on the pacifier as she looks out the windows as the passing scenery. As soon as they pull into the parking space out front of her building, she starts squirming incessantly, eager to get out and show off her new wardrobe.

"C’mon, we gotta go, c’mon." she says, pulling the Doctor’s hand through the lobby and into the elevator, despite the stares she gets, and then into the apartment.

The smell inside was pretty bad, but Clarisse doesn’t seem to notice, dropping Veronica’s hand and heading to her bedroom. There was a carton of milk left out and open on the counter and Cheerios scattered all over the counter top near it. In front of the couch on the floor, the carpet is stained a rather deep brown color with a large damp yellowish patch as well, from where Clarisse had been sitting watching cartoons the day before. However, the worst of the smell seemed to be coming from the bathroom, where the previous day’s messy panties are sitting on top of the trash over her soaked nighttime diaper.

Veronica frowned, she should have thought of this. This was almost a social worker case waiting to happen, although it wouldn’t apply for a girl her age. She thought about asking what happened, but decided not to stop Clarisse. She let herself get tugged, trying to smile and hold the back of her hand over her nose to prevent the worst of the smell.

Seeing the girl’s collection of clothing, though, made her giggle. She had excellent taste, and part of her wondered if this really was the medicine and hallucinations digging in deep, or if some of it was pre-disposed. "My, my, what adorable outfits!" she said. She let the girl show them off, and helped her get a bag to pack them. "Go ahead and pick out your favorite for now. I’m going to just clean up a bit."

The milk and the trash would need to be taken care of. Cheerios were fine, but the worst of the smells would need to stop if she was going to be gone a few days... or longer.

Her favorite? Clarisse stood in front of the closet then for a long while, trying to pick out what was her favorite outfit, and eventually, with a giggle, decided that Dora knew best, and picked out the fancy child’s party dress that she had almost worn to work. As Veronica made a maid of herself for a moment, the other girl took a bit to get herself into the new dress, pulling it down and managing to get the zipper done up in the back quite nicely. She did a little twirl in front of the mirror, smiling at how she could still see the colorful patterns of the diaper if she twirled just the right way.

Satisfied with this, she picked out a few more, less fancy sundresses out of the closet and packed them, as well as some shirts and overalls. Almost as an after-thought, she grabbed the last of the pack of My Little Pony panties and put them in as well before zipping up the duffle bag. Something on her nightstand caught her attention, then and she realized she’d missed taking her medicine that afternoon, what with all of the commotion about her at the office. So popping another pill, she grabbed her bag and went to show off her prettiest dress to the nice Doctor lady.

Veronica had just finished with a basic cleanup. The garbage was bagged, she’d toss it on the way out and the milk was down the drain. There were still some cheerios about but it wasn’t horrible. Clarisse would need assistance with even the most basic living it seemed now. She turned to see the girl in question come out of the bedroom looking dressed for an Easter party.

"Well aren’t you just the cutest baby girl in the whole world?" she beamed. She held her arms out for Clarisse, taking her into a hug and rubbing a hand on the back of her diaper. "Just simply adorable," she said a little more softly into her ear. With everything packed, and Clarisse somewhat more dressed, they left her apartment. Veronica tossed the garbage down the chute and held Clarisse’s hand as they took the elevator back down.

All the way down she beamed. She was on cloud 10 at this point, and the praise from someone she trusted and who was taking care of her ’problems’ was just the icing on the cake. Catching her reflection in the back of the elevator door did give her pause, though, and a moment of clarity shone through the haze and the fog, and she stared at the blurred reflection, wondering why she was dressed like this, and why she was holding this woman’s hand.

Two floors from the bottom, she was starting to feel more than a bit uneasy, shuffling from foot to foot and looking over at Veronica from the corner of her eye. She still had her pacifier in her mouth, but it wasn’t soothing anymore. The reflection of herself through the blurry polished metal of the elevator doors mimicked her movements, and in the back of her throat a small, distressed whine started to grow. Struggling, the logical, un-drug addled part of her was trying to surface, the longer she stared at that hazy reflection of a young adult in baby’s dress.

With a happy ’ding’ the elevator door opened and Dr. Veronica pulled Clarisse along, causing the girl to stumble cutely for a moment and interrupting the start of what sounded like a growing infantile cry. The last pill she’d taken hadn’t quite kicked in and as her sober portion recognized something amiss, she couldn’t help trying to suck her pacifier faster as people in her apartment lobby stared at her as she walked past.

Out on the street it was the same, cars even slowed, and as she stumbled awkwardly in her crinkly waddle, her dress flew up a little in the back and had there been any doubt, some of the passersby got a glimpse of either a really good Halloween costume quite a few months early, or a poor girl with quite a lot of problems and some growing up to do.

As her humiliation and nervousness grew, her mind sunk a little deeper, and by the time she was at the car and the door held open for her, she was almost about to say something.

Clarisse paused, seeing the car seat in the back of the van, and she looked down at herself, her growing nagging feeling of something being off driving her to open her mouth. She turned pulling her pacifier out of her mouth to look at Doctor Veronica, and as she was going to start with her protests, something else entirely derailed her train of thought.

And there, during the start of rush hour, the girl in the baby doll dress and diapers with a very upset look on her face turned to her doctor, and heard herself exclaim, "I need to go poopy!" loudly enough to attract a bit of attention while simultaneously pressing her thighs together as much as she could and bending a little over at the waist, giving some pedestrians a clear view of her infantile undergarment.

Surprising even herself, dislodging her fragile grasp on that moment of clarity, she again looked around confusedly, and clenched her teeth. She was about to say something, but she knew that making a mess was a bad thing, so she was trying to hold it. Concentrating entirely on not letting her poop into her panties-- wait, were they panties? They seemed thicker, and she remembered that she’d had panties before. Anyway, her panties needed to stay clean, and this effort drove anything else from her mind.

Dr. Veronica looked at her a little surprised, but then just smiled, taking the girls hand to guide the pacifier back into her mouth. She gave her a pat on the cheek. "That’s nice dear," she said trying not to make a scene for others around. She helped her up and into the van, securing the girl in her car seat and offering her a pat on her diaper bottom... perhaps a little less then friendly and more sensual pat as she leaned in and out of earshot from the street. "You can go in your diaper baby, mommy won’t be mad," she added with another rub on the front.

With a little moan and a squirm at the pat, she allowed herself to be fastened into the car seat without further protest, even that little sensual rub against the front of her diaper enough to completely bury her logical mind for the moment, though it didn’t completely ease her discomfort and anxiety over the growing urge from her bowels.

During the rest of the car ride, she just couldn’t muster enough control or focus to push the mess into her diaper, despite its thickness and the soft seat of the car carrier beneath her. Instead, she simply squirmed about, frustratingly stimulated by the pat, and sucked hard on her pacifier, one hand reaching for her diapered crotch but finding only resistance from the harness and the front her too-poofy dress. Instead of humming along with songs in her head, she simply whined gently all the way back to the clinic.

By the time they pulled up to the clinic it was almost the end of regular work hours. The pill Clarisse had ingested as she’d put on her dress had started to hit her. Her eyelids were droopy and her body slowly starting to act on its own. She sucked on the pacifier, and with a slight moan of pleasure, she felt a tiny bit of that mess she’d been holding back warm her bottom.

Veronica parked the van and got Clarisse’s bag out of the back. She went around to the side door, opening it and leaning in to undo the buckles and pull the girl up into her arms to try and lift her out. Clarisse leaned against the doctor, a slight moan escaping her lips. The rest of her mess suddenly pushed itself out of her in a rush, filling the back of her diaper. Her logical mind faded into quiet happiness there as her front got a little wet too, and she squirmed a bit, happier in Dr. Veronica’s arms.

Although a little too big to do a ’child carry’ with, Veronica took Clarisse’s hand, walking the girl with her, smiling at how she had a more pronounced waddle now.

The relief was immediate, but as soon as the young girl leaned forward, her body taking over and relieving itself of its own volition, she immediately forgot what she was anxious about, the warm heavy load weighting down the back of her diaper some, but not really a bother or a burden, and thus completely forgotten. As she toddled along behind the doctor into the clinic again, she didn’t even notice as her body continued to release a little bit more of her mess, nor did she pause in her walking.

With that release, though, came the feeling of pleasurable contentedness, not to mention the arousal that her mind had started to associate with it, and with one hand clasped in Veronica’s, and a pacifier safely and satisfyingly in her mouth, that left her a free hand. A free hand, she realized, that could be used to press against herself as she waddled, letting the simple motion of walking (though a bit awkwardly) continue to build on the stimulus from earlier.

The doctor noticed this and smiled gently. She led the girl through the halls of the building in which she had her practice, getting some awful stares from passersby at the smell and scene, and eventually into the office itself. She’d sent Gloria home for the day, but it really didn’t matter, as she’d find out soon enough regardless.

"Let’s get you into some clean panties, okay honey?" Veronica cooed softly into Clarisse’s ear, reaching behind the girl and gently rubbing the mess against the girl’s bottom, "Then we’ll lay you down for a nice little nap and you can just forget about all those adult worries you’ve been having. All those problems will just go away."

Clarisse let out a little moan at this new sensation against her bottom, the cravings for sexual release becoming nearly too much to bear at this point. Squirming, she allowed herself to be led further into the office, through the examination room and into the secret back room again. All the previous day Veronica had been a busy bee, setting up the last bits of the furniture she needed in here, as well as a few other things. She quickly led the squirming young girl over to the changing table and turned to help her up onto it, finding instead a girl with a distant look in her eye.

The girl didn’t even notice when the nice doctor lifted her skirt to watch her diaper sag under the weight of another little accident. No, she was too caught up in the room itself, all soft lighting, pastel colors and a very large, very comfortable looking crib. She was also caught up in the warm pleasurable sensation around her crotch again, much like the sensation she’d had earlier in the day when she’d been at that party. Was it a party? There were certainly lots of people being busy, so it must have been. And what happened to that outfit? She didn’t care, this one was much better. Suddenly she realized she wasn’t even standing up anymore, looking up from lying on her back at the face of the Doctor.

"Aww..." Veronica cooed again, moving the fluffy skirt out of the way as she eased Clarisse onto her back, "Someone made a little messy here. Who was it? Was it you? Hmm?" with each question, she slowly massaged the crotch of the girl’s diaper, seeing the euphoria in her eyes.

"That’s right, you did! You’re such a good little darling girl, Clarisse." she continued, gently guiding one of the girl’s hands to her own diaper, "Do you feel that? Do you know what that is?" she asked, trying to gauge how much of the girl was really left in there.

"Ahh... nnn..." Clarisse moaned, pressing her hand harder against the padding, not really able to respond. She was surprised to find a lump pressed against her rear, though, again something telling her she’d messed herself. Dazedly she reported, "Made... a messy..."

Veronica smiled, easing the girl’s hand back and forth on her diaper, "That’s right, honey, you made a good messy for mommy. A very good messy. It’s not even a problem to make a messy. Now relax, enjoy your messy, and forget about those silly big girl worries."

As the doctor took a step back, she watched with some fascination as the girl did just that, her hand rubbing on the outside of her diaper, then eventually slipping into it. Only several minutes later, when Clarisse had finished and lay panting on the changing table, did she come forward and start to remove the soiled garment. "Good girl," she cooed, changing her into a fresh diaper and easing her into a sitting position, holding her tightly and rubbing her clean bottom and the back of her head.

"Clarisse, dear..." she said, easing the girl off of the table and towards the waiting crib, half holding, half guiding her, "What time do I need to get you up for work tomorrow?" she asks lightly, quietly, not wanting to jar the girl too much from her afterglow.

"Mmm...?" Clarisse made a little confused sound, "No work...." she yawned, "Wanna have a playtime wif Elmo." she muttered.

Veronica smiled again, rolling the girl into the crib and picking up a bottle of juice from a supply stacker hanging from the headboard. It had been laced with the drug concentrate, and so long as it continued to work, she was going to keep feeding it to Clarisse. "Atta baby. Drinkies all up for mommies, then take a nice nap and we’ll watch some cartoons when you wake up."

Clarisse accepted the nipple of the bottle, feeling the sweet, tangy apple juice within as she nursed, used to the motion now, having learned it well in her dreams and practiced on her thumb and pacifier for the last few days, and slowly she drifted off into a contented sleep, absent of any adult worries, full of infantile pleasures.

----

It hadn’t been easy to arrange for power of attorney and medical custody, but Veronica had supplied many a lawyer with a ’fix’ in their day, and they owed her. As she sat in her office, one eye on the paperwork she was filling out, the other on the video monitor of the playroom, she saw something that brought her attention over there fully. Clarisse had taken to her new life easier than she’d anticipated, slipping easily into the role of a toddler after just a day with seemingly no worries about her previous life. She didn’t seem to have any more care over controlling her bladder, but the doctor always got a kick out of watching her in the afternoons. It was nearly a ritual at this point.

On the monitor, Clarisse was watching some afternoon cartoons while playing with some stuffed animals when she started to lean forward, her diaper poking out quite prominently beneath her short, olive green sundress as she got up on her knees, legs spread out. She fidgeted there for a while, looking around in distress as if something was amiss. It was obvious that something was bothering her, and that she didn’t have any idea what it was. Immediately her thumb went to her mouth, and as her cheeks reddened, bent slightly forward, the look on her face said it all. Here was a little girl who was about to, no wait, make that in the process of filling the back of her panties. It was plain what was happening, from the sag at her rear to the look of relief on her face.

And as soon as it had started, it was done, and the girl fell back to her hands and knees, crawling about the playroom innocently as if nothing had happened. Absently, Veronica let a hand drop below her waist. She’d seen it dozens of times now, but watching that confused look as the girl shat in her diaper was still precious. She knew she’d have to go in and clean it up, but today she waited, as she did some days, for the inevitable.

In the playroom, Clarisse had made her way over to a set of coloring books, and plopped down heavily on her bottom to try and match the colors on the page to that on television when she felt it. A wave of confusion and panic flooded her brain as she felt the hot mess under her. Slowly she shifted from side to side, making sure she wasn’t dreaming, and in the back of her throat a little whine started, culminating a few moments later into an all-out bawl. Again, in the office, Veronica smiled.

Yes, eventually she’d have to go change the poor girl, but that could wait. Later, she might even dress her in her favorite My Little Pony panties and take the girl out for a stroll to a nearby restaurant. Of course, by the time they’d get back, Clarisse’s undies would be soaked through, probably part of her clothes as well, but that didn’t matter to Dr. Veronica, and least of all to the oblivious Clarisse, who would simply smile and piss herself, not even aware if you asked her if she’d gone potty. She loved seeing other people’s faces as her little girl piddled herself like a child in public.

An hour later, Veronica was satisfied and Clarisse was clean, happily at play again and anticipating that evening’s going out to dinner when the Doctor received a call just before closing time.

"Hello, is this Doctor Veronica?" a young girl’s voice came through, "My name is Jan, and I was referred to your clinic by my regular doctor. I’ve been having some pain in my shoulder and was wondering if you could take the time to see me tomorrow?"

Glancing at the observation monitor again, Veronica smiled and got out her scheduling book. Gloria could watch Clarisse in the morning at her place. "Of course, dear, how does ten sound?" Unbidden, the old gum jingle entered Veronica’s head. "Double the pleasure, double the fun..."

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