Ginny’s Incontinence Procedure — Part 13

The following story contains adult content and is intended only for adult readers over the age of 18. Any characters depicted in adult situations are over the age of 18. This story is entirely fictional and has been written and shared for entertainment purposes only.

The door to the dark pediatric exam room closed behind them with a massive clank, as if being locked like a prison cell, as Dr. Mallory rolled Ginny back into the childish pediatric exam room.

Even while still being tightly bound sitting in her thoroughly messed in and stinky diaper, Ginny could still detect the scent of past dirty diapers and baby powder in the air as they entered.

“Alright, hon. I know I said first thing’s first, but now, we have to do first thing’s really first, before I change that diaper. Which is, I have to have you sign the paperwork officially admitting you into the Home-Based Regression Rehabilitation program, ASAP, so we have an explanation for when the hospital calls asking where the new diapered patient is they were supposed to be receiving right now,” Dr. Mallory explained.

Ginny hardly thought anything of it as Dr. Mallory pushed a large stack of legal paperwork in front of her. Ginny was eager to do what it took to finalize her not going to the mental hospital. She was also just thrilled to be treated like an adult enough again to be asked to sign things… let alone finally have at least her hand free from the web of restraints still confining her in her wheelchair.

Ginny squinted for a moment at the dense legalese on the paperwork. It all seemed extremely serious and official. But it was too hard to read in the dark. Or at all, really.

“Wow, you must really like sitting in that poopy diaper, if you’re wasting time trying to read a bunch of boring ol’ grownup legal documents that you’ll still have to sign, either way,” Dr. Mallory teased her.

The comment made Ginny embarrassed enough to just start signing. Maybe some part of her remembered her vow not to sign things without looking, after what happened last time she didn’t fully read her paperwork…

But that part was a long distant memory now, after being diapered, punished, humiliated, and infantilized again and again and again so methodically there at the clinic that day, Ginny barely even remembered the day before last.

Besides, she was truly willing to do anything to stay out of jail or the mental institution. The doctor was right. She hardly had a choice, at this point. Besides, if the paperwork was for Ginny to officially join the ‘Home-Based Regression Rehabilitation program’, which it seemed to be, that’s exactly what Ginny wanted. To just go home already.

Finally, after several long, boring minutes, Ginny got through signing every last piece of paperwork. As Dr. Mallory promptly collected it, Ginny was filled with relief just to have it over with. After all, her bottom really was getting quite itchy before she started, and doing boring paperwork in a poopy diaper somehow only seemed to make it a hundred times worse!

Dr. Mallory smiled as she saw that everything was in order with the signed paperwork, then she swiftly filed it away in a nearby locking file cabinet.

Then she started to undo Ginny’s restraints. “Alright, cupcake, let’s get you up on the diaper changing table to get you cleaned out of that awful mess. We have to get going soon. And I don’t want you in the car in a poopy diaper,” she explained.

Ginny found the comment a little strange, because she didn’t know why the doctor would care about Ginny driving herself home in a poopy diaper. But she did have to admit, it seemed diaper rash was imminent. Especially as she slowly got to her feet and her whole midsection let out a giant shlorp, as her massive squishy poopy diaper mess drooped down in her plastic pants.

As Ginny looked up at the changing table, it finally occurred to her that she was being asked to let Dr. Mallory change her diaper, rather than be allowed to change herself.

Ginny felt a sting of confusion. She realized she hoped the ‘third program’ meant she wouldn’t be subjected to the humiliations of a mental institution, like getting her diaper changed by someone else. Or at least, she thought that’s what the doctor had been implying since the start of their discussions about her different options. Ginny decided to try to say something.

“Um, thank you for the offer, Doctor. But I think I can change myself, really,” Ginny said.

Dr. Mallory spun around. She looked Ginny up and down with a stern face. Then she burst into laughter.

“Come on, silly. Up on the changing table,” Dr. Mallory coaxed.

Ginny blushed. She couldn’t help but kowtow to the doctor’s intense condescension. She obediently climbed up on the changing table and laid back, cringing as she felt her filthy diaper bellow with another perverse squish.

She blushed wildly as she watched Dr. Mallory put on a pair of gloves and come over to change her.

First, Dr. Mallory pulled Ginny’s childish hospital gown clean off, balled it up, then threw it in the dirty linen’s bin, leaving Ginny naked on the changing table in her dirty diaper and plastic pants.

Then, Dr. Mallory carefully worked the thick, crinkly plastic pants down Ginny’s legs.

Finally, Dr. Mallory reached forward, undid the tapes, and pulled the front of the diaper open, revealing the horrendous, poopy mess.

“Oh, pee-ew!” Dr. Mallory shouted, holding her nose and bursting into giggles. “You are by far the stinkiest diaper girl I’ve ever seen on this table!”

Ginny blushed in horror, equally aghast at the sudden stench. She suddenly wished she’d put up more of a fight about letting the doctor change her. But at least she would still be changing her own diapers at home, Ginny thought. Surely, it wasn’t much longer until she was finally able to get out of this nightmarish clinic.

The doctor began slowly and carefully wiping the poop off Ginny’s bottom with cold baby-wipes. Ginny shivered in humiliation and disgust at the sensation of her own mess being looked at and cleaned up for her like this, and she felt mortified to be subjecting someone else to it. But to her surprise, Dr. Mallory merely smiled and hummed while she worked. Truthfully, Ginny didn’t even know why Dr. Mallory, a doctor, was changing her, instead of one of the nurses.

“Oh, darling girl. I can’t ever let you get this poopy ever again. From now on, it’s hourly diaper checks. And right into the bath with you when we get home tonight,” Dr. Mallory said.

Now, Ginny was alarmed. She had no idea how to make sense of what she just heard.

Finally, she worked up the courage to ask, “Ummm, Dr. Mallory, when am I allowed to finally get my keys back and head out? Is it right after this change? Because you’re right, it’s getting late.”

Dr. Mallory looked down at Ginny on the changing table in shock. Like she was staring at a two year old who just cursed out Jesus.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Mallory asked.

“Oh, uh, I was just asking when I can finally get going home,” Ginny nervously stammered.

Dr. Mallory stared at her… then let out another laugh.

“Home? Your home? Oh, no, dear. You’re not going back there. Not anytime soon. Probably not for a long, long time,” Dr. Mallory said.

Ginny’s eyes shot open. The doctor’s word sent a sudden chill down her spine. “What-what-what do you mean?” Ginny asked.

“I mean, you’re now officially enrolled in your new discharge, long-term supervision program, silly. I thought that was more than clear,” Dr. Mallory answered. “Now, feet up!” she directed as she pushed Ginny’s foot way back, in order to better really scrub Ginny’s caked-on poopy bottom.

“I don’t understand. I thought you said I agreed to be part of the Home-Based Regression Rehabilitation program,” Ginny stammered, cringing and freezing while she felt Dr. Mallory scrub her sensitive parts.

“You did!” Dr. Mallory said as she worked.

“Then, why can’t I go home, then?” Ginny asked in frustration.

“Oh, silly baby. Yes, you’re now enrolled in the Home-Based Regression Rehabilitation program. But it’s not your home you’ll be staying at,” Dr. Mallory giggled. “That would be ridiculous. But it will be a home.”

Ginny started to turn red, flustered and overwhelmed. “Whose home then?” Ginny asked, her heart pounding as she was forced to also endure Dr. Mallory vigorously scrubbing and invading her dirty bottom while they spoke.

Dr. Mallory finished cleaning the part of Ginny’s butt she was scrubbing, dropped the dirty wipes in the trash can, turned back to Ginny and smiled.

“Mine!” Dr. Mallory beamed.

* * *

Ginny stared up at Dr. Mallory from the changing table, speechless for several moments as she tried to make sense of what she just heard.

“I’ll be living at your home?” Ginny stammered.

“That’s right!” Dr. Mallory nodded.

“But… why?” Ginny asked.

“Well, that’s the nature of the exclusive, pilot, Home-Based Regression Rehabilitation program. I’ll be functioning as your new, 24/7 caregiver,” Dr. Mallory explained. “That way, you’ll both be under the enhanced, long-term supervision of a qualified clinician, and I can tailor your new care and lifestyle regimen to exactly what we now know you need, both physiologically and psychologically, given your assortment of complex infantile syndromes and maladies.”

“You’ll be my… caregiver? But I don’t need a caregiver…” Ginny answered.

Dr. Mallory stood up, putting her task of cleaning Ginny’s bum on hold, the dirty diaper still under the girl’s bum.

“Naughty girl!” Dr. Mallory said, suddenly delivering a stinging slap! to Ginny’s bare thigh, making her yelp in shock. “I don’t have time to play games with you telling fibs right now. Don’t play dumb. What did you just confess to being? What did you finally just admit in a long, tearful, diapered speech in front of my whole office out in the lobby just a few minutes ago?”

Ginny looked up, then looked away, too ashamed to admit it.

Smack! Dr. Mallory delivered another sharp blow to the side of Ginny’s naked behind, making her yelp on the changing table. “Don’t make me give you a spanking already, on just your first day under my care. Answer me when I ask you a question. Say what you explained to everyone that you were,” Dr. Mallory scolded.

“A… a baby,” Ginny stammered with bright red cheeks, terrified by the threat of a spanking, shocked already by the unexpected and surprisingly painful blows she just received.

“That’s right!” Dr. Mallory said. “A baby. And so, from now on, medically, behaviorally, and legally speaking, you are going to be treated like a baby. And medically-behaviorally-legally-speaking, in addition to plain old common sense, a baby needs to be under the care of a qualified caregiver at all times. So yes, you very much do need a caregiver.

“And in fact, that’s exactly what the lengthy legal paperwork you just signed established. By acknowledging your medically serious infantile-disorder in front of dozens of witnesses out in the lobby, then signing the paperwork attesting to such, you have officially declared yourself incapable of caring for yourself.

“Further, you have thus officially submitted yourself for care to the clinic’s exclusive pilot Regression Rehabilitation program. Which means that in the eyes of the law, you are now under the program’s total guardianship and authority. That is, my authority.

“Therefore, whether you believe you need a caregiver or not, you have one now. In the eyes of the law, I am your legal guardian now. Your parent. Your Mommy. I’m in charge of you, because as you yourself explained in front of everyone… you are otherwise just a helpless, pathetic baby. And as a helpless baby, I’ll be caring for you and treating you as such,” Dr. Mallory explained.

Ginny’s eyes went wide with horror, barely able to believe what she was hearing. She thought back to her desperate, eleventh hour confession, where she explained that deep down, she was really just a baby.

Ginny had been so desperate to avoid getting dragged off to the mental institution, the moment she thought of some possible explanation for the cause of her diaper dependence, she eagerly pleaded it to Dr. Mallory with all her heart.

But now, Ginny was realizing that her confession, in Dr. Mallory’s hands, might have effectively just obliterated what little adult-hood Ginny still had left… whether Ginny believed there was still truth in the confession, or not.

“What do you mean… you’re going to treat me like a baby?” Ginny managed to squeak, now trembling in terror.

“I was going to give you a little time to wind down after today’s events before I got into the nitty-gritty details of your new behavioral program,” Dr. Mallory said with a sigh. “But since you’re asking, I might as well give you a few bullet points so you can start trying harder to cooperate with me in preparation of what’s to come.”

“First of all, now that we know the extent of your diaper dependence, bathrooms will be off limits, and you’ll rely on your diapers for all your toileting needs 24/7. It’s obvious that you were almost totally diaper dependent before, anyway, despite your state of the art medical incontinence surgical assistance, but we can finally dispense with the pretense that you have any ability to make it to the potty on time for your number ones or number twos, which will be a lot less stressful for your little baby brain. Which will hopefully help you start focusing on your behavior, which needs the most work right now.

“Of course, there will be all sorts of new rules and expectations for you while you are enrolled in the program, and living under my roof as my legal patient and legal ward, and when we get home tonight, we’ll have more time to go over all of them.

“But for starters, just know that you are absolutely forbidden from ever taking off or changing your own diaper, under any circumstances. You’ve had plenty of time trying to manage your own diapers as a chronic diaper wetter, as well as now a diaper pooper, and it’s clear that hasn’t worked out. It’s time for someone else to be in charge of monitoring the state of your diapers and changing them for you, like the baby you are.

“In addition to the diapers you’ll always be wearing from now on, you’ll also be wearing clothes that are determined to be more suitable to your state of maturity. Mainly, clothes that will make checking and changing your diapers easier and more accessible, like skirts or short-alls with the appropriate crotch snaps. They will also signal to those around you your level of behavioral maturity, in order to avoid any awkward situations, where a stranger might mistake you for a functional adult.

“Bed times will be at 8pm when you’re good. Earlier when you’re naughty. And you’ll be sleeping in the adorable nursery and crib I’ve just had assembled in my guest room, in anticipation for the start of this pilot supervision program.

“And while I’ll of course be spending more hours at home looking after you as part of my participation in this regression rehabilitation program, I’ll still be needed at the clinic about three days a week, and a babysitter will be enlisted to look after you as needed. The details have yet to be decided, but I suspect Nurse Sunshine and Nurse Roberts will happily babysit for me when needed, as a means of extra income. After all, they already have a pretty good handle on your particular… needs… as a patient, don’t they?

“And finally, while I don’t intend to enforce this rule today or anytime too soon, eventually, I expect you to warm up to me enough in your guardian role, that you can call me ‘Mommy’. Again, it is totally natural to wait to do that for longer than the first day, but I do expect the behavior to happen eventually, and I won’t be afraid to motivate the behavior on threat of discipline, when the time comes, if needed.

“Which of course brings me to that oh so necessary corollary to any list of rules… punishments.

“A few moments ago, I mentioned the possibility of giving you a spanking if you didn’t cooperate by answering a question I asked you. As troubled as you appeared to be by just the prospect of a spanking, I promise you, a spanking under my care will be just the beginning when it comes to teaching you to respect discipline, if needed.

“If you try to resist my authority, I will punish you. Not because I enjoy punishing my patients. But because the first and foremost important part of your regression rehabilitation program is that you finally learn to behave. Which for patients who are as severely hampered by their regressive tendencies as you are, that means applying the most stringent discipline if necessary.

“And secondly, with the legal agreement now in place, I have a responsibility to secure your safety and cooperation with the program by all necessary means, including punishments. I am just as legally obligated to punish you for your misbehavior, as you are legally obligated to behave for me in the first place.

“As far as your punishments themselves, they will consist of every way you can imagine that a child, and / or an adult, can possibly be punished. And so many more, I assure you.

“Spankings, time outs, and early bed times are only the beginning. As a doctor, laxatives, enemas, and even catheters are all but trivial means for me of enacting memorable behavioral correction for an especially naughty patient. But I assure you, for the recipient, they will all feel anything but trivial.

“And while I have no desire to subject my adult-baby patient to a period of long-term secure psychiatric confinement while under my roof, I am more than willing to, should such a patient ultimately still refuse too cooperate and properly behave their new behavioral age.

“That is to say, your ability to walk, talk, even move your fingers—you should consider these privileges, that can be taken from you through all the psychiatric restraints systems we have at our disposal, permanently, if necessary. The wheelchair straitjacket system you experienced before was only but the lightest application of the medical restraints we have at our disposal.

“So, to conclude, I’m sure you have many more questions. And I assure you, we will have many, many hours to spend together during your rehabilitation, during which I’m more than happy to talk more with you about the details of your new diapered supervision program. But for now, I hope I have impressed on you the nature of the expectations I now have for you, while you are under my care. And I hope this persuades you to finally be a good girl for Doctor, lay back, and be a quiet baby for the rest of your poopy diaper change, please,” Dr. Mallory said in a terse tone.

Ginny’s jaw was on the floor. Her heart was pounding. The room was spinning. She suddenly felt like she was in a nightmare.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. Everything the doctor explained just kept getting worse and worse. Ginny couldn’t even mentally keep up with all the gravely humiliating, mortifying ways the doctor apparently intended to treat her in this new ‘behavioral program’. Ginny suddenly felt frozen in terror, utterly powerless, utterly… babyish.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Ginny finally managed to squeak, putting her head back in shattered submission, and re-presenting her naked, poopy bottom for cleaning, still atop her open, stinky diaper.

“Good girl,” Dr. Mallory said, her tone suddenly artificially cheery as she gave Ginny a condescending head pat.

Then, Ginny squeezed her eyes shut as she felt Dr. Mallory getting back to work cleaning up her filthy, poopy bum, crotch and thighs with the cool baby wipes, making sure to scrub her every delicate nook and cranny…

* * *

As Ginny laid back on the diaper changing table, and Dr. Mallory resumed wiping her bottom, just a moment later… a single tear fell from Ginny’s eyes. Then another. Then another.

Suddenly, Ginny was sobbing. And despite everything she’d just heard about the terrifying discipline measures at the doctor’s disposal, Ginny still couldn’t help but speak yet again. This time… through tears.

“I trusted you!” Ginny squeaked, suddenly sitting up on her open, poopy diaper, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Once again, Dr. Mallory was forced to stop her work wiping Ginny’s bottom. She stared back at Ginny with her hands on her hips, her expression simmering with terrifying, mounting parental fury. But Ginny didn’t seem to notice… or care.

“I trusted you!” Ginny repeated. “You said being discharged through this third supervision program was the only way for me to ever have a chance at getting my potty training back. Where I wouldn’t be helplessly going peepee and poopy in my pants anymore. But now… now you’re saying I’m going to be forced to act like a baby. To only use my diapers from now on, and that I’ll never even get to use the toilet at all, even if I want to! That means you lied! That means you’re forcing me to go back to wearing and using nothing but diapers forever and ever and I’ll never even get to try to use the toilet like a big girl ever again! You lied to me!” Ginny bawled.

Dr. Mallory stood there for a moment, looking back at Ginny as she sobbed on the changing table, her open poopy diaper still under her butt.

“You lied… you lied!” Ginny repeated, crying and crying and crying. But despite Dr. Mallory’s furious expression in response to being interrupted a moment ago, as she watched Ginny cry, she not only didn’t react with anger… but her expression slightly softened.

Dr. Mallory quietly listened to Ginny bawl uncontrollably on the changing table for about another minute. Then, sensing a lull in the girl’s tears, Dr. Mallory spoke up again, her voice calm but authoritative.

“Ginny? Listen to me,” Dr. Mallory said. “Take a deep breath and listen to what I have to say.”

Ginny did her best to try to calm down, wiping tears and snot off her face with the back of her hand. “What?” She asked.

“I didn’t lie,” Dr. Mallory said.

Ginny screwed her face, went quiet for a moment as she caught her breath and tried to understand. “But… but… you said I have to wear diapers only from now on, and I can’t use the toilet,” she said.

“That’s right,” Dr. Mallory said.

“But you also said if I got into the home rehabilitation program, the one I’m in now, it would be my only chance of ever learning how to go potty like a big girl again. On the potty, instead of in my diapees,” Ginny said.

“That’s right,” Dr. Mallory said.

“Which is it? I don’t understand!” Ginny blurted in frustration.

“I know, honey. I know,” Dr. Mallory said in a calming voice. “And that’s because you’re just a baby. And part of your rehabilitation in this program involves you learning that there’s a lot you don’t understand, and can’t understand, because you’re just a baby. And that’s okay, because instead, you’ll learn that you just need to trust Mommy and that she knows what’s best for you.”

Ginny gave a cautious, skeptical nod.

“But since you’re so upset, I’ll make an exception, and I’ll try to clarify, to see if that helps you understand, so you’ll be less upset. Okay?” Dr. Mallory said, suddenly coming over and sitting next to Ginny on the changing table. Ginny nodded again.

“Ginny, you will get another chance to become potty-trained like a big girl while you’re under my care in this program,” Dr. Mallory explained.

“I will?” Ginny asked.

“Yes. But in order for that to happen, you have to start living like a fully diaper dependent baby, who never ever uses the potty no matter what, and fully relies on your diapers, and your Mommy changing you, for all your weewees and number twos, at all times,” Dr. Mallory explained.

“I don’t understand!” Ginny whimpered, clearly in psychic distress, like she was being asked to solve college-level math as a first-grader.

“I know, sweetie, but it’s really not that hard,” Dr. Mallory smiled, then put her arm around Ginny, the affectionate touch taking Ginny by surprise.

“You said it yourself,” Dr. Mallory continued. “Deep down inside, some part of you knows you’re actually still a baby, not a big girl, right?” Dr. Mallory explained. “That’s why you’re still wetting and pooping diapers, no matter what anybody else does to try to help you.”

Ginny gave a cautious nod.

“You see,” Dr. Mallory continued, “the problem you’ve been having all along is that you’ve been fighting that part of yourself. Your true self. The part that knows you’re still a baby. You’ve been resisting it. Pretending it’s not true. Pretending you’re an adult instead of a baby.

“And that’s why you’ve been so unhappy… and why you’ve been acting out in dangerous ways… and that’s why the world class incontinence surgery I performed on you didn’t work, and why your potty training has only gotten worse and worse, no matter how hard you try to use the toilet like a big girl. To the point that you had a big poopy mess in your diaper today, that’s still under your bum right now,” Dr. Mallory said, pointing to the open, poopy diaper still between Ginny’s legs, making her blush.

“You’ve been having so many problems because you’ve been fighting the truth of who and what you really are. A baby. But now that you’ve come under my care, you can finally stop fighting it. You can finally stop pretending to be a big girl altogether.

“That means you can finally stop trying to make it to the potty, knowing you’re a totally diaper dependent baby 24/7. You can stop getting into all sorts of scary trouble with adults, like when you did all that scary lying on those grown-up contracts about your medical history, because you’ll have your Mommy looking after you and making the big girl and big boy decisions in your life for you instead from now on. And you can start living exactly like the baby you are in every other possible way, from drinking baby bottles before bed, to sleeping in an adult-baby crib that let’s you know you’re totally safe in your nursery every night.

“Which means you can finally stop fighting your true self, and finally start living your true self, like you were really meant to do. And that’s very important, because guess what happens next after you do that? What happens after you truly begin to live like the baby you are?” Dr. Mallory asked.

“What?” Ginny replied.

“You finally start to grow up. But actually grow up, this time. It won’t be quick or easy, but real growing up never is. And so that’s what I mean when I explain to you you’re still going to get the chance to become potty-trained like a big girl again some day. But in order for that to happen, what do you have to do first?” Dr. Mallory asked.

“Become… a baby?” Ginny nervously answered.

“That’s right. Become a good little baby. My good little baby. And I know you can do it, because I know you know that’s who you are. That’s why you weren’t eligible for this special long-term rehabilitation program until you came to that conclusion yourself, and I heard you admit it out loud. Because I knew it was crucial for your success that you truly understood that you are just a little baby. And that that revelation about the true cause of your problems came from inside yourself. Does all that make more sense now to your little baby noggin?” Dr. Mallory asked.

Ginny scrunched her face and stared off, deep in thought. But then finally nodded. “I guess so…”

Dr. Mallory smiled and started to get back up.

“But wait! When does that mean I get to be potty-trained again, then?” Ginny asked.

Dr. Mallory smirked knowingly and shook her head. “That’s the thing, Ginny. You can only start truly growing up again, after you’ve truly become a baby again. And as a baby, the only real answer I can give you as to when you’ll be ready for potty-training is… ‘someday’.

“Because just like a real baby, exactly when you’ll be ready for potty-training won’t be up to you. It can’t be up to you, because you’re too little. Instead, it can only be up to your Mommy. Up to me. And I can’t tell you before the day you’re actually ready.

“And more importantly, if you’re still thinking at all about wanting to become potty-trained, that means you haven’t even started actually living like a true baby yet. Because a real baby doesn’t want to use the potty. They don’t even know about the potty. All they know about is what it feels like to have a dirty diaper, and how much they love their Mommy for changing them.

“And similarly, instead of thinking about things like potty-training, or growing up, or any of that other big girl stuff, the only thing a real baby thinks about is how to be a good baby girl for Mommy. And I promise, the more you focus on that, on being a good baby girl for me, the better everything will be for you. And all the sooner you’ll get the chance to one day actually grow up, and finally get the chance to get actually potty-trained again like a big girl, which I know is something you feel you really want right now.

“So, does that feel like something you can do for me, sweetheart? Can you be a good little girl who lays back on the changing table and cooperates while Mommy finishes cleaning up and changing her poopy diaper?” Dr. Mallory asked.

Ginny looked back at Dr. Mallory with wide eyes, her head spinning. But finally…

“Yesh,” Ginny meekly nodded with an accidental babyish lisp.

“That’s Mommy’s good baby girl,” Dr. Mallory said, giving Ginny a light hug. “Mommy knew she wasn’t going to have to punish you on the first day. Now go ahead and lay back so Mommy can finally finish getting her little girl’s poopy bottom all cleaned up. Then we can finally get going home. I can’t wait to show my baby her amazing new nursery. I just know you’re gonna love it, my wonderful little stinker bell.”

Ginny nodded and slowly laid back down on the changing table, her bottom settling itself on to the top of her poopy diaper again.

She closed her eyes, and once again succumbed to a swirling daze of impossibly confusing and conflicting emotions, while she felt Dr. Mallory get back to work cleaning her poopy diaper butt, just like she were changing a toddler.

TO BE CONTINUED

IN PART XIV — FINALE