here is a story about secrets, about first impressions and about lasting ones.
Nursing on her pacifier as she always did when overly-nervous or overly-excited or overly-talkative, Trisha pinched her knees together – folding her hands politely and placing them on her lap. Sitting straight up, she was fairly certain that this would be the position she would be in for most of the night to come.
Diapered, she was dolled up in a flouncy burgundy skirt and a white v-neckline Chiffon blouse. Nibbling on the rubber nipple of her pacifier, she wandered if the outfit she was wearing was a bit to risqué for where was headed. Though she had chosen comfortable dress shoes, she was also a bit uncomfortable about not having worn nylons. Oh my, the worries of fashion. It simply wasn’t easy to find the right look that also gave her the right amount of solace. But looking over at Derrick in the driver’s seat, she smiled warmly – softly whimpering once at her happiness. Derrick was her Daddy and her lover and her soul mate and her everything. And if he said her outfit was appropriate for meeting his family on that night, then she was going to believe.
In all honesty, wearing the diaper was far more risky than anything else she had on or didn’t have on. That thought pretty much went without saying. The crinkle beneath her skirt as well as the bulk would eliminate any and all comfort she otherwise would’ve benefited from … at least until she grew accustomed to being in his parent’s house and being around his family.
But not going diapered seemed just as chancy – twisting her insecurity into a knot as her thoughts bounced back-n-forth between her life with Derrick and her dynamic relationship with him. However, as a few short months had shown, her life with him was truly inseparable from the dynamic. And this made her quite happy. He was her Daddy and she – his BabyGirl. And though neither of them announced this openly to the world, they were hell-bent on keeping it a constant – no matter where they were or who they were with.
But above and beyond everything else, Trish just wanted this night to go well – for him, for her, for his family. This was the night of her introduction. She wanted his family to approve of her. Moreover, she wanted his family to like her.
“I know you may be feeling a bit nervous right now, Trisha. But you really don’t need to be,” Derrick said, reaching over to her and placing two fingers under her chin as he turned her head to look at him. “You are not only stunning, you are absolutely breath-taking. And my family is going to love you.”
How heart-warming to hear, but how easy it was for him to say that. He wasn’t padded, powdered, pacified, dolled up, made up and readied to be presented as a trophy. He was a guy. All he had to do to get ready was to put his shoes on.
But still, the fact that Derrick not only noticed the trepidation in her posture and the steady nursing of her pacifier, but saw its severity and effect on her poise enough to try to calm her nerves – that was a wonderful gesture on his part and one that made her feel like the most important thing in his life.
That was a very good feeling, indeed.
As Derrick signaled right and turned the car into the residential area where his parents lived, Trisha took in a deep breath through her nostrils and exhaled just the same. For as much as they could’ve turned around just then, they really couldn’t have. It was time for her to meet his parents. It was actually an introduction that was well past due. And sooner or later, she would have to face them. But with one or two turns left on their journey, Derrick gave her the run-down of what to expect, last-minute information that was necessary but did nothing to take the edge off her nerves.
“Okay, let me review with you who is who before we get there,” Derrick said, signaling left and turning onto the next road in the residential area – Trisha nursing on her pacifier and bracing for the grim truth. “Dad will meet us at the front door. He’s a traditionalist but is also a practical joker. And Dad will break wind at the dinner table. So be ready for it.”
Trisha snorted with laughter, then covering her nose and pacified mouth, her dark red fingernails catching Derrick’s attention.
“Aunt Florence is a bigger woman and she is very affectionate,” he explained. “She will give you a full-breasted hug. So make certain to keep your chin up so she doesn’t smother you.”
Trisha snorted again, though having covered her nose and pacified mouth in prevention. Perhaps it actually was a good idea she was diapered because if he kept explaining his relatives like this, she was going to start peeing herself with laughter.
“Uncle Samuel is just as inappropriate as can be, but he has no clue about this,” Derrick explained, signaling right and turning onto his parents’ street. “He will pat the middle of your back as he hugs you. He loves to pat females. Don’t be offended. He’s harmless and quite honestly, as dumb as a brick.”
Trisha rolled her eyes, having dealt with that kind of guy before – the ones that were super-nice but super-awkward.
“Mom is skeptical about everything and she will likely ask you a lot of questions that seem a bit rude, but this is simply her way of deciding if she likes you or not,” Derrick said, slowing down and turning into the driveway of a huge Victorian-style house. “But relax. Mom will like you. She’ll simply be the last person in the room to let you know.”
Great. Trisha took the pacifier out of her mouth and put it on the console between the two front seats as she lowered the passenger’s visor to use the mirror. His mother was the relative she was most worried about impressing. Getting a tube of dark red lipstick out of her purse, she looked at her appearance in the tiny mirror. Smiling, she remembered what Derrick said about her – stunning but also breath-taking. And it was that compliment that made her happy she had decided to go to the salon that afternoon to get her details touched-up, from her eyebrows to her split-ends.
“Jasmine, my cousin, will also be here, Sam and Florence’s only daughter. She goes by the nickname Minnie,” Derrick said, Trisha pausing from applying lipstick to look over at him in horror. “Relax. She’s the same age as us. Actually, she has a daughter of her own. But her daughter is with the babysitter tonight.”
Trisha breathed a sigh of relief. Oh my, that would’ve been weird. Derrick turned the car off and he got out, Trisha taking one last moment to check her make-up and hair before opening her door and standing up out of the car – right into the waiting embrace and hug of her Daddy.
Resting her chin on his sternum as to not get her make-up on his shirt and looking up at him, she smiled – taking in a deep breath of the scent of him and feeling the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped around her completely and made her feel small, like she was a little girl … his BabyGirl. Oh, did she love him – not just for how he physically made her feel, but also for the mental nourishment of being cared for in a manner she never believed she would find from any guy.
“I know you want this night to go well and that you want to be perfect for my family. But don’t be so nervous about things. They will love you, Trisha. They will love you for who you are and also for how clearly they will see that you make me feel,” Derrick said, his right hand reaching up under the back of her skirt and patting her thickly-diapered bottom – Trisha’s knees nearly giving way as she tingled between her legs. “Be a good girl for Daddy, tonight. And show all of these crazy relatives of mine what I already know about you … that you are perfect for them.”
He buttoned up the front of her coat and tapped the tip of her nose. Being pretty, powdered and pampered was certainly a pleasant feeling and always put her in the right mood. But sometimes, it felt so good that she didn’t want to come back out of that mindset – even when she knew she had to. Walking up to the front door of his parents’ house was one of those moments.
Her strides were slow and elegant … well, as elegant as her waddle would allow her to be. But from practice, she had learned of ways to move to keep her waddle to a minimum. Hearing Derrick ringing the doorbell, she stood behind him – hiding there in shyness as she looked up at the front of his parents’ house and then to the front lawn. They must’ve made good money to live in such an enormous house in such a ritzy neighborhood. And hopefully, they wouldn’t see Trisha as being too poor for their son.
But the idle moments that gave her time to think of new things to worry about came to an abrupt end as his father opened the front door.
“Derrick!” his father said with animation.
“Dad!” Derrick said back, shaking his father’s hand.
“So where is she, my son’s little lady?” his father asked, not realizing the effect the name had on Trisha’s now heavily-beating heart.
Derrick stepped out of the way and presented his BabyGirl to his father.
“You must be Trisha,” his father said, an aged version of Derrick – sharing strong family resemblances with his son. “Please come in.”
Taking small, graceful steps forward, Trisha walked into the house – taking notice first to the huge wooden staircase that led to the second floor. Graceful or not, she felt the bulk between her legs and lowering her chin, she hoped the crinkle she was hearing from under her skirt was only at a level of ear-piercing noisiness to her. Oh, trepidation indeed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. And my, oh my, what an intense situation this might become.
“She sure is shy,” Trisha heard Derrick’s father whisper to him. “Not like your other girlfriends before.”
Oh, my. Trisha didn’t need to hear that – that Derrick had brought past girlfriends home to meet his family. Great! Now she was going to have to worry if she was living up to his past. What if his father had a favorite from his son’s past sweethearts – one that he really wished Derrick had married? But no sooner did another second of time tick on the grandfather’s clock in the sitting room that Derrick led her into than his entire family came walking in from the kitchen.
“Joseph, you let Derrick bring her over to meet us now,” a large-figured woman said to Derrick’s father – opening her arms and walking towards Trisha.
The poor girl’s eyes bugged out of her head as she saw the woman’s enormous breasts wobbling all over the place as she approached. Those things had to be DD cups at least, if not E. Derrick wasn’t lying at all. And from the way this lady moved, Trisha wondered why the woman didn’t have back issues.
“Hello, baby,” the woman said, wrapping her arms around Trisha and engulfing the poor girl’s body in the full-breasted hug.
Trish lifted her head up just in time to prevent a smothering from the woman’s chest. Trying not to be awkward about it, Trisha hugged the woman back.
“My name is Flo. I am Derrick’s aunt,” the woman said, rocking Trisha’s tiny frame back and forth. “And if you need anything, Trisha, you have but to ask me for it. I’m now your aunt, too.”
Oh my. Though Aunt Flo was certainly affectionate and sincere about it, Trisha instantly got the impression that this woman was not only physically too much but also too much personality-wise, as well. Trisha felt her elbows being smashed into her ribs and her thighs being smashed together by the squish of Aunt Flo’s embrace. Yet, she could hardly be upset with the lady. After all, Trisha had been in plenty of awkward situations before where she wasn’t made to feel welcome by anyone. And here was this super-loving woman, doing everything to make the poor girl feel comfortable. Trisha certainly appreciated that.
“Now, come meet my husband,” Aunt Flo said, releasing Trisha from the full-breasted hug and giving the girl a moment to breathe freely again. “Samuel, come in here!”
Entering from the kitchen was a bald-headed man of more than six feet in height. He appeared to be the same age as Flo.
“This is your nephew’s new girlfriend. She’s very sweet!” Flo said to her husband, directing Trisha to walk over to him.
Trisha took a small step forward, the crinkle under her skirt sounding like a new bag of chips being opened. At least that’s how it sounded to her. Horror-struck by this, Trisha slowly continued moving towards Flo’s husband – hoping her diapered waddle wasn’t obvious to anyone.
“So you’re with Derrick, huh?” the guy said, hugging her and beginning to pat the middle of her back.
“Um, yeah,” Trisha said nervously, hugging him back and resting the side of her face on his chest.
When she did this, she saw a girl of similar age to she and Derrick, standing next to Flo’s husband. She must’ve been the cousin Derrick had told her about. The girl was looking down at the lower hem of Trisha’s skirt, making Trisha’s heart pound even more heavily. Had this girl figured it out?
“Well that’s good. Derrick’s a good guy,” the man said, patting lower and lower on Trisha’s back. “I’m Sam, his uncle. So I guess I’m your uncle, too.”
Then Uncle Sam patted at the back of her waist line. And when he did so, his enormous palms connected with the top of the back of her diaper. He broke the hug off and stepped back, looking at Trisha with confusion. Trisha stood there, trying not fidget as she tried to think of a way out of the awkward moment. But nothing was coming to mind and the atmosphere of the room had suddenly grown uncomfortably silent. Involuntarily, she shifted her hips for search of comfort in posture. Oh, what a mistake it was to do that. And as a few more crinkles filled the otherwise silent room, Trisha nearly passed.
Blushing, the hue of her face grew closer to the color of her red hair. The room sudden grew small around her, almost giving her a sense of claustrophobia. Trying to discreetly pinch her knees together in defense of the probable, she swallowed a lump in her throat as she looked up at the six-foot tall Uncle Sam. Her thighs trembled slightly. In fact, her whole frame began to shake and it would’ve been undeniably obvious if she hadn’t still been wearing her coat.
“You alright?” Uncle Sam asked, taking notice to Trisha’s nervous posture.
Trisha nodded, her mouth having run too dry to speak.
“What was that noise?” the girl next to Uncle Sam asked.
And that was all it took. Trisha lowered her chin and clenched her groin muscles, but it was too late for any more measures of prevention. She felt the front of her diaper growing warm in a rapid and gushing fashion. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be escorted to walk anywhere because if she was, she would likely leak or just not be able to move at all. Her bladder began to empty itself and though she felt relief from the urge, she also felt the tightness of the tapes at her hips as her diaper began to sag from the weight of her wet release.
Oh, my Blue Heaven, did her face turn beet red. And this was only made worse when the girl walked up to her and stood directly in front of her. Trisha tried to smile sweetly through the blush she didn’t apply to her face. But even if she looked like she felt comfortable, she was anything but that.
“Let me take your coat, baby,” Derrick said, walking up behind Trisha, unbuttoning her coat and lowering it off her shoulders-n-arms.
Thankful for the removal of her coat for how warm it was in the house, Trisha was also petrified at the same time by the removal of a layer of clothing that was making it easier to hide her crinkly condition. But always thinking one step ahead, Derrick reached into the front left pocket of her coat – taking out the empty plastic gummie bear bag that was in that pocket. And without a word of explanation, his uncle and everyone seemed settled with now knowing what that noise likely was.
But maybe not the girl yet.
“My name is Minnie,” the girl said. “And if my Mom is now your aunt and my Dad is now your Uncle, then I’m now your cousin.”
Minnie smiled warmly and Trisha smiled right back, finishing her pee and sharing a cautious hug for how drenched her diaper had become.
“I hear you have a daughter,” Trisha said, raising small talk with Minnie right away.
“Yep,” Minnie said, grinning brightly. “She’s my bouncy little bundle of joy. My little Princess. And since her grandparents refuse to stop giving her absolutely everything she wants, she’ll soon be my spoiled little Princess … if she isn’t already.”
“It must be wonderful, having a little girl to take care of,” Trisha said, keeping the small talk going as it seemed, initially at least, she and Minnie were hitting it off very well.
Then Derrick’s mother appeared at the kitchen entryway and Trisha froze in horror. By the way the lady was standing there, the light from the kitchen made her partially silhouetted. From the woman’s confident stance, the way she dried her hands with a tea towel and how she wasn’t approaching Trisha to say hello, Trisha’s first impression of Derrick’s mom was that she was a dead-ringer for the Monster-in-Law label.
But that was no intelligent way to think of his mother. It was already kind of obviously that Trisha and this lady would be battling over who had more control of Derrick’s attention. Declaring war made no sense at all.
“Mary, this is Derrick’s little lady,” Derrick’s father said to his wife.
“I can see her, Joe,” Derrick’s mom said, throwing the tea towel over her right shoulder and walking into the room – towards Trish.
Well, at least Trisha wouldn’t be made to waddle her crinkly, sagging diapered bottom over to his mom. But from the eyeing-up that Trisha received, she quickly realized she wouldn’t need to move at all to still possibly be discovered by the one person she didn’t want to mess things up with. His mother moved with slow yet deliberate steps towards Trisha, allowing each stride to complete itself with the tapping of her heels on the hard wood floors. The heel clicks seemed to echo off the walls, then reverberating right back into Trisha’s conscience.
“And Trisha is your name?” his mother asked with such a judgmental monotone to her voice that Trisha had to force herself to smile and nod affirmatively.
But when his mother smiled, Trisha knew she had at least passed the initial test. Or so it logically seemed. If his mother didn’t like her right away, there wouldn’t have even been a thoughtless obligatory smile shared. But there would be many more tests before this night was over. Trisha was sure of it.
“I’m Mary,” his mother said, embracing Trisha in a normal manner, quite contrary to the manner her sister Flo had used. “Please come in. Dinner is waiting.”
Mary took hold of Trisha’s hand and led the girl into the dining room, Trisha feeling quite self-conscious for being diapered, for having wet herself and for everything she knew this night would hold for her. But walking through the kitchen and into the dining room, Trisha paused in worried thought – watching his family members take their seats around the dining room table.
There was Aunt Flo and Uncle Sam, Father Joseph and Mother Mary. The names couldn’t have been coincidence, but Trisha didn’t know what to make of it.
In the midst of that contemplation, her thoughts shifted quickly again when she saw the wooden dining room chair that Derrick had slid out for her to sit on. Oh my, sitting on polished wood with a drenched and diapered bottom. This could be disastrous.
Everyone settled into their seats, Trisha trying to find courage to sit as well. But that was easier said and thought than done. Yet, Derrick stood there behind his chair, the only perfect gentleman in the room who had waited for his lady to sit before he did. And the longer she hesitated in sitting, the more attention would be drawn to her. She had plenty of attention already.
Lowering her chin slightly, she positioned herself in front of her chair, touched the insides of her thighs together and fluffed out the back of her skirt as she sat down slowly – trying to keep a grace about her that would hopefully also keep her padded condition a secret. Luckily, Derrick’s seat was to her left and Minnie’s seat was to her right. So the people beside her weren’t who she was most concerned about discovering anything. It was Mary – Derrick’s mother and, from the woman’s stare being sent across the table, also Trisha’s would-be executioner, it seemed.
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Trisha sat straight up, trying not to show the unpleasant discomfort of sitting in slight wetness. Thankfully, Derrick had padded her thickly. But though the wooden chair was protected from her, she wasn’t protected from the interrogation that was but a few seconds from beginning – just enough time for her to drain half the glass of Pinot Noir set in front of her at that dining room table.
The wine was good. Pinot Noir had a flavor she liked, but it wasn’t the taste she swigged to find, just then. Instead, it was the buzz she needed, to take the edge off her nerves and hopefully mellow her out.
“A little thirsty, are we?” Mary asked, giving a raised eyebrow to Trisha as everyone began to pass the food around the table.
“She’s not thirsty, Mom,” Derrick said, coming to Trisha’s aid as he picked up his glass of wine and swigged half of it down. “She’s awake her taste buds and cleansing her soft palate. After all, you made this meal for her, didn’t you? Why wouldn’t she want to enjoy it fully?”
Trisha wanted to smile from ear to ear, but thought better of doing so. Instead, she smiled on the inside. Derrick had just shut his mother up and was able to do this without being a jerk about it. He was definitely a keeper. That much Trisha was certain of. The rest of his family, however, well … that was a different decision altogether. But Trisha had made the conscious choice to not be one of those girlfriends who stole a guy away from his family and wouldn’t give him back. Yes, Trisha was his priority. And she felt this in his actions, in his words and in the intentions she could see in his heart. But being a priority didn’t mean that everyone else in the world who loved and needed Derrick were to be alienated from his life.
Not only was that a foolish way of reasoning, if it could actually be labeled as reasoning. But it was also cruel and stupid. And Trisha vowed to never be that kind of girl.
Shifting in her seat, Trisha tried again to find comfort, but movement wasn’t going to help – not with a crinkly condition. Thankfully, she had opted to not sit on her skirt. So it wouldn’t get wrinkled and hopefully, it wouldn’t get wet either. Looking around the table, she wondered if Flo, Mary and Minnie ever felt so uncomfortable – certainly caused by reasons other than wearing a diaper. But she marveled over how calm and collected they seemed. It must’ve felt good to be that relaxed. Ah, relaxation – perhaps even feeling normal more than comfortable … that was the greatest fantasy of all for Trisha.
But even if her comfort had been found, just then, court was but a single syllable away from being in session.
“So, Trisha tell us about yourself,” Uncle Sam said as he mounded his plate with mashed potatoes.
And thus began the questioning.
Where do you work?
What kind of food do you like?
Where have you vacationed to in your life?
Do you have any brothers or sisters?
Is your family close to one another and are you a tight-knit bunch?
Do you gather together and have meals?
Are you religious?
Does your family live nearby?
When can we meet them?
Trisha kept her answers short, trying not to sound like a chatterbox or being long-winded. She was saving her poise for the obvious question to come. And, of course, it was Derrick’s mother, Mary, who finally dispensed with the easy questions and dug in deeply.
“So how did you and Derrick meet?” Mary asked, cutting into her steak without looking down at her plate.
Both of Mary’s eyebrows were raised. This one question was apparently what she wanted to know the most. Where on Earth did Derrick meet such a girl as Trisha? This was clearly what Mary’s expressions were conveying. Trisha was sure of this.
“I … um … met him at a club,” Trisha said, lowering her chin and putting several pieces of au gratin potato into her mouth.
“And what kind of club did you meet him at?” Mary asked right away, not even allowing her a few seconds to chew her food in peace.
Trying to chew with grace and swallowing slowly, Trisha collected herself. This was the sort of thing that just sucked the essence of every bit of enjoyment out of her. And this had been the case countless times in her life. No matter where she went, there was always someone she would run into who would wind up being her kill-joy. Every blasted time, Trisha fell for it … taking the bait and getting dragged down.
“A dance club,” Trisha said, answering his mother’s question with as little detail as possible and as little cooperation as possible.
“We met at The Chameleon, Mom,” Derrick said, speaking up to come to Trisha’s aid again. “And I’ll never forget that moment when I first saw her.”
Derrick reached over and took hold of Trisha’s left hand, Aunt Flo audibly aww-ing as tears came to her eyes right away at the sappy story to follow.
“She was wearing a dress that was shorter than this one,” Derrick recalled, then looking directly at his mother to cut off her scoff before she made it. “And she looked beautiful in it.”
The weeping Aunt Flo had already picked up her purse and was digging through it for tissues.
“Unlike a lot of the girls in the club that night, Trisha wasn’t looking to stand out and be noticed. But she also wasn’t waiting quietly and expecting the attention to come to her anyway. She carried no air about herself that she deserved anything,” Derrick continued, recalling that night as he smiled. “Instead, she was there at that club to do something that really grabbed my attention right away. She was there to be herself, to be beautiful and to have a good time. And that is what made me walk over and talk to her.”
“Ohhhhhhh!” Aunt Flo cried out, replenishing the rain forest with her tear flow as she blew her nose so loudly into a tissue that she could’ve been a party favor.
“And when I walked over to her,” Derrick said, turning to face Trisha as he reached up and gently drew his fingers down the left side of her face. “… I caught first glance of her electric eyes and I simply had to know the girl behind them.”
Minnie picked up the wine bottle and filled Trisha’s glass again, knowing that once the girl stopped welling with tears and was able to control her affection, she would need a bit more of the edge taken off.
“It’s really cold to be wearing a skirt, isn’t it? Without anything covering your legs?” Mary said, breaking into the sweetness of the moment with a sledgehammer.
Derrick looked at his mother and opened his mouth to speak. But before he was able to say anything, Trisha reached under the table and placed her left hand on his right leg – sinking her nails gently into his thigh. This was the moment of truth. Trisha needed to stand up for herself. She was very capable of doing so – especially since she knew that if she were knocked down, Derrick would be there to catch her. But she had to find a way to gracefully getting her footing. That was the trick and that was the game that had to be played.
“That’s fashion for you,” Trisha said with a competing smile, trying to be respectful to Derrick’s mother without being an easy target for her anymore. “Just another bit of sacrifice that we make sometimes to look our best.”
Mary lowered her eyebrows. Oh my. Trisha had just nailed a truth that Mary couldn’t refute with judgmental comments. And for as attuned as Derrick was to the situation, both his father and his uncle were completely clueless to the daggers being tossed across the table. They were guys and guys didn’t ever pick up on squabbles of such.
“So do you want kids, Trisha?” Joseph asked, Derrick laughing and looking at his father. “What?”
“Okay, Dad. Hold up on the grandkid train,” Derrick said with a broad grin. “… at least until you learn her last name, alright?”
“What’s your last name?” Joseph asked Trisha, both she and he smiling at each other.
“McCarthy,” Trisha answered, knowing exactly what Joseph was going to ask again.
“Okay … McCarthy,” Joseph said, committing her last name to memory. “So do you want kids? Because I want grandkids.”
“Trisha, you’ll have to forgive him, but he’s been jealous since we became grandparents first,” Uncle Sam said, rubbing his wife’s back as she still worked diligently to regain her poise before all the tissues in her travel pack ran out. “Speaking of which – Minnie, we’re gonna come by tomorrow morning to pick up Jeanie. Is 9 am too early?”
“Oh my, no,” Minnie said, laughing. “Jeanie will certainly have me awake at 6 am. She’ll be ready to go by 9.”
“What is the meaning of the name McCarthy?” Mary asked, taking control of the conversation topic again. “It’s good to know something about your family heritage.”
Geez! This woman didn’t let up!
“McCarthy means Son of Cárthach whose name meant loving,” Trisha answered with a far less defensive tone.
“I’m impressed,” Mary complimented her.
Well, thank God for that! It was about time!
“So what does the name Trisha mean?” Mary asked, inquiring further.
“Trisha means loving person,” Trisha answered, returning to the meal on her plate.
“Brandt is a German last name and it means burning. It can also mean fiery torch,” Mary said, giving the book report on their family’s last name. “And we chose Derrick for our son’s name as derived from the German Theodoric, which means ruler of the people.”
“So, Derrick Brandt and Trisha McCarthy would mean The ruler of the people who holds a fiery torch will protect love and people who love,” Minnie summarized.
“Is everybody taking notes?” Joseph asked jokingly. “There’s gonna be a quiz later on.”
“Maybe after dessert,” Mary said, pushing her chair back. “Trisha, would you like to come to the kitchen with me to get dessert?”
Was this a literal question she was asking or was she being facetious? Trisha tipped her glass of wine and drank it all straight down, then carefully standing up.
“I’d love to,” Trisha said, trying to nonchalantly walk backwards to avoid crinkling too much while also trying to nonchalantly look down at her seat to see if it was wet.
Thankfully, the diaper had held up and her chair was dry. She truly wished she could say the same for herself, just then. But walking into the kitchen with Mary was a lot easier than what Trisha thought it would be. And this was a little surprising to her. She thought she would be as nervous as could be. But suddenly, she seemed a lot calmer. It wasn’t until they got over to the kitchen counter and began to slice the pie that Trisha realized her sudden placidness was because the wine had gone to her head.
“Trisha, do you always dress this way?” Mary asked, her tone suddenly seeming far friendlier.
“Do I always dress what way?” Trisha asked, a little confused by the question but also a little worried that Mary may have picked up on something under the skirt.
“Well, I mean … in a dress, in a skirt … like a lady,” Mary clarified, her tone still seeming friendly.
“Well, no. Not always,” Trisha answered honestly. “I have my comfy clothes for certain days and my sweats for other days.”
“Oh, yes,” Mary said, understanding what Trisha was alluding to. “So, not to inundate you with my husband’s wishes, but just so we know … you are capable of having children – should you and Derrick get married and decide to have them. Is this correct?”
“Yes,” Trisha said, smiling. “I’m … fully functional.”
It was at that moment, that Trisha was reminded of another function of hers that seemed to be working just fine on that night. The tiny bit of pressure to her bladder walls slowly but steadily began to build its urgency. More suddenly than graces should’ve allowed, she needed to pee. The glasses of wine had not only gone to her head but they had gone straight through her frame. And though her diaper had held up wonderfully through the full-breasted hugs of introductions and the intense cross-examinations of dinner, her concern now was if her diaper would continue to hold up through the cutting of pie and the certainly wobbly steps back to the dining room table.
“I’m sorry if I didn’t dress right for the night. I was really nervous and I didn’t know what to wear. I just wanted to look nice for everybody,” Trisha admitted, trying to distract herself from the growing-need to double over from what was become a condition of desperation.
On top of this, she still needed to act as though there was nothing wrong – for fear that Mary would find out what actually was wrong.
“Sweetheart, you look very pretty,” Mary said, looking at Trisha’s outfit and then returning to cutting the last two pieces of pie. “But red is a color that sends signals out to attract men. Are you always so flirtatious?”
Trisha smiled softly, partially to prevent from grimacing at the pain and partially because she was beginning to realize that Mary’s standoffish tone was often just one of concern for her son – not necessarily a declaration of wanted war.
“I’m Irish, Mrs. Brandt,” Trisha answered confidently. “Red is our thing.”
“I thought the Irish liked green,” Mary said, lightly pushing the conflict on, both of them beginning to enjoy each other’s responses.
“We do. We do like green. A lot, actually. As a matter of fact, we like all colors of the rainbow,” Trisha answered re-tucking her red locks behind her ears. “But sometimes, it’s the red in us that gives us control.”
“Ah, control,” Mary said, changing the subject. “That’s another whole issue in itself, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Trisha asked quickly, tightening her groin muscles as much as she could – her urgency to pee now looming near definite arrival. It was only a matter of when.
“Let me give you some advice,” Mary said, beginning to fill Trisha’s arms and hands with the little plates of pie. “Derrick, like his father, will try to control you – eventually, if he hasn’t already. And if you let him, you will be submitting to him all your life.”
Oh, how wonderful that sounded. If Mary only knew how absolutely wonderful indeed that sounded to Trisha, she might well have kicked the girl out of her house, right then and there. And as Mary loaded up her own hands and arms with the little plates of pie, Trish finally smiled – fully and without any fear at all. Parting her legs ever-so-slightly, she gave up on the battle. Not the one with Mary, but the one with herself.
Just then, an obnoxiously loud bit of gas was heard being broken in the dining room. Uncle Sam began to laugh right away.
“Oh, Lord! No!” Aunt Flo said as the battle of winds began between Sam and Joseph.
Mary closed her eyes and sighed.
“Joseph! We have a guest in this house. Would kindly keep your gas to yourself?” Mary asked, walking over to the kitchen entryway and glaring her husband down.
“Well how about you stop making food that gives me gas?” Joseph asked, Uncle Sam cracking up even harder.
Trisha made her way over to the kitchen entryway, standing next to Mary as she continued to wet herself. Oh, what a confusing moment – but one that seemed as easy as pie.
“Derrick will control you, if you let him. Joseph is proof,” Mary said quietly to Trisha before walking back into the dining room.
Trisha followed behind her, trying not to crinkle too much but knowing her waddle was just a bit wider now.
A short while later
Everybody moved from the dining room back into the sitting room, the dessert having been consumed and Mary-n-Minnie getting drinks from the kitchen to bring in.
“Okay, Mary has coffee. And before you say it, Dad, yes. It’s caffeinated,” Minnie said, walking into the sitting room with Mary. “And I have water in this pitcher because I can’t drink caffeine this late if I wanna get any sleep tonight.”
“Well, you drink the water and I’ll drink the high octane,” Uncle Sam said, picking up the carafe from the coffee table and pouring Flo a cup – then himself.
Trisha had made careful steps into the sitting room, taking an even more careful seat in the middle of the couch. Derrick sat on her right and Minnie, her new bestie it seemed, sat on her left. At least her close company was the same as what it was at the dinner table as it appeared discomfort, otherwise, would be her circumstance, once again. The diaper between her legs was completely drenched at this point and completely swollen. And all Trisha really wanted to do was just go into the bathroom and take the thing off. She would also find that elusive dream of comfort in cleaning herself up. But it didn’t seem that the meet-n-greet night with Derrick’s family was going to end just yet. With any luck, the interrogations had.
“So where are you two headed tonight?” Joseph asked Trisha and Derrick, knowing the night was still young for them.
“Not sure yet,” Derrick answered, looking at Trisha. “We haven’t really decided, but maybe stopping out somewhere for a drink would be nice.”
Trisha lowered her chin, smiling sweetly and trying not to show her blush. What his family didn’t know was that Derrick was talking about one of those naughty out-n-about trips he and Trisha would take – sometimes to do sexual things in inappropriate places and sometimes to see how long her diaper would hold out before she leaked.
The mere thought of going to a bar that night made Trisha tingle all over. The mere fantasy of it was already more than her mind could handle. And she was quite happy to be able to let go and to tempt the fates because she knew that, if it unsettled her and broke her to pieces, Derrick would put her back together again. This was always the piece of the puzzle that she had been missing but no longer.
But as the sweetness of that thought melted her senses and turned her mind to mush, she was quickly drawn back to the moment as the feeling of wetness touched the back of her thighs. Sitting up with shock, Trisha placed her hands on the outsides of either leg – running her fingers under the back of her thighs and realizing that her diaper had finally leaked. Trisha closed her lips, trying not to lose control of herself as she fought back tears. It wasn’t just that her diaper had leaked that had upset her. It was also the fact that, when she sat down on that couch, she had neglected to fluff out the back of her skirt. So … not only were the backs of her legs wet, but the back of her skirt was wet as well.
Sitting forward, she contemplated the 50 possible ways of escape that flooded into her mind all at once:
Maybe she could sit there and wait until Derrick got her coat when they were ready to leave. Then she would simply stand up and slip herself into the coat, thus covering the wetness on the back of her skirt. But that wouldn’t explain why the couch was wet where she was sitting.
Trisha tried to shift in her seat without crinkling and alerting Minnie next to her. Slowly, she drew her thighs a little closer together – then placing her palms flat on either side of her legs in an effort to keep as much of her weight off the couch as possible.
Maybe she could remark right now that the couch was wet, standing up and feeling the back of her skirt. Perhaps his family would believe that the couch was wet before she sat down and that she hadn’t made it wet. But that option seemed unlikely to work since Mary was already primed to doubt even the most reasonable things. And besides, the longer she waited, the less realistic it was that she would suddenly have discovered the couch being wet after having sat on it comfortably for several minutes – only then to finally stand up and remark that the couch was wet.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she realized, all too late, that when she closed her thighs a little, she also forced the diaper to leak a bit more. Oh, for pity’s sake! Wasn’t there any answer that didn’t sound like a lie or didn’t exude the thought of certain doom?
Maybe she could fake some sort of illness or some sort of condition. She could tell everyone that she forgot she was lactose intolerant or had issues with gluten or something that had been a part of dinner. But Trisha was certain that this would anger Mary and destroy any hope of being friendly with her. And besides, those conditions wouldn’t have produced wetness. They would’ve caused Trisha to make a mess of herself.
Trisha felt the back of her skirt soaking through. It wasn’t just damp anymore and before too much longer, the surface of the cushion would begin to soak with her pee. Lowering her chin a bit more, she blushed a deeper shade of red, embarrassment setting into her much more deeply now. The idle chatter in the room didn’t include her and no one was asking any questions of her. Thankfully, she wasn’t engaging in any conversations just then. That would’ve made this whole situation even worse.
Maybe she could just tell the truth. Well, okay – not the whole truth about the diaper and all, but maybe she could simply say that she wet herself. Aunt Flo would certainly be sympathetic and probably want to hug her some more. Yes, it would be an overwhelmingly humiliating experience, but at least it would get her out of the situation.
“You want some water, Trisha?” Minnie asked, pouring a glass for her.
Trisha snapped out of her doom’s daze and returned to the moment. She reached for the glass of water. What further hurt could it cause? She was already drenched and so was her skirt and so was the couch. She may as well have not gone thirsty. She certainly would need saliva in just a minute to make some mortifying confessions. But when she reached for the glass of water, Minnie accidentally let the glass go before Trisha had a firm handle on it.
The glass of water fell onto Trisha’s lap, making her freeze in place as the ice cold water spilled onto the front of her skirt.
“Oh, Trish. I am so sorry!” Minnie exclaimed, picking up the glass but accidentally dropping it again – all of the water emptying out of it.
“Oh my goodness, it’s cold. It’s cold,” Trisha said with breathlessness, feeling the ice cold water trickle down her inner thighs.
“Yep. Minnie’s been dropping things all her life like that,” Uncle Sam said.
Trisha was trying to recover from the coldness of the water when Derrick and Minnie both stood up, each of them taking one of her hands and helping her to stand up. Trisha looked at Minnie in horror, to then receive a shock and a half. Minnie smiled slyly and winked at her.
And by the time Trisha got to her feet, she realized how that spilled glass of water had just saved her from her doomed predicament. Certainly a glass of water spilled on the front of a skirt would also drench the back of a skirt and the couch cushion beneath her. But this whole resolution was only made possible by action from Minnie. And the fact that Minnie had winked at her led to a whole new situation, but only one question … Did Minnie know something?
“Come with me, Trish. Upstairs. I’ll put your skirt in the dryer and it’ll be dry and as good as new in ten minutes,” Minnie said, taking Trisha’s hand and briskly heading for the big wooden staircase.
They headed upstairs. Minnie’s steps were quick and Trisha’s steps needed to be quick to keep up with her. The quicker Trisha moved, the more she crinkled and the more she waddled. But thankfully, they were out of the sitting room and she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else finding anything out.
Minnie was another matter, however.
“In here,” Minnie said, opening the first door on the left – the guest bedroom, and turning on the overhead light. “Take the skirt off and wait in here. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna make sure that the dryer isn’t loaded full.”
And with that, Minnie left the guest bedroom, closing the door as she went. Trisha sprang into action, already having thought ahead and realizing that she would need to find something to cover her diaper with until her skirt was dried. And she needed to find this before Minnie came back.
She tossed her purse on the guest bed, putting her hands on her hips for a moment to study the layout of the room. Waddling over to the dresser in the corner, she pulled out each of the drawers, looking for something to wear. But all the drawers were empty. A pair of shorts, another skirt, anything! She quickly waddled over to the closet, flinging the closet doors open and finding the shelves in the closet to be as empty as the dresser.
That was when she really began to panic, fearing that Minnie would be back any second. Turning to face the room, she caught sight of another door on the other side. Waddling over to it, she opened it – seeing it led to a guest bathroom. Geez, Derrick’s parents must’ve been really well off. There was a separate bathroom in this house for the guests. Quickly opening the bathroom closet, she saw stacks of towels! Hallelujah!
Not wasting a precious second, she unzipped the back of her skirt – allowing it to fall down around her ankles as she reached for a towel.
“Trish?” she heard Minnie say from inside the guest bedroom.
Trisha’s heart began to beat with the pace of a galloping race horse – so heavily that she became dizzy. But she had no time to spare. Grabbing a towel, she quickly unfolded it and wrapped it around her waist – tucking in the ends below her navel. Then she bent over to pick up the wet skirt.
That was the moment when Minnie walked into the guest bathroom.
“Oh, Sweetie,” Minnie said with kindness. “I’m so sorry that this happened. I feel horrible.”
“It’s okay,” Trisha said, picking up the wet skirt and standing straight up – the crinkle under the towel echoing off the bathroom walls and freezing her in horror.
Trisha handed the wet skirt to her, her electric eyes having become glassy, big and wide. Minnie also had a look of shock, but quickly looked at the tag of the skirt and made idle chatter to ignore the elephant in the room. Then Minnie looked at the back of the skirt, noticing how it wasn’t just water that had soaked it.
“You know, believe it or not, my Mom taught me a little trick as to how to get something to dry quicker,” Minnie said, setting the skirt in the bathroom sink and turning the faucet water on.
She drenched the entire skirt and took a few seconds to gently wring out the excess before turning to Trisha and walking over to the closet to take down a second towel.
“Mom said that if you want something to dry more quickly in the dryer, then you should make it evenly wet and throw in a dry towel with it,” Minnie said, looking down at Trisha’s waist. “I can wash your panties too, if you want.”
Trisha’s eyes welled with tears.
“No. It’s okay,” Trisha whispered, incapable of speaking any more loudly as she then swallowed another lump in her throat.
There was a moment of awkward silence they shared with each other and Minnie then softened to apology once more – seeing how embarrassed Trisha had become.
“Trisha, I’m really, really sorry about this,” Minnie said, not knowing how to make the girl feel better about the situation. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Minnie walked out of the bathroom and Trisha practically burst into tears, but she managed to hold it together – by a thread. Walking into the bedroom, she sat down on the end of the bed and buried her face in her hands. Oh, this was such a horrible situation and it just kept getting worse.
Minnie had obviously heard the crinkle under the towel around Trisha’s waist. And Minnie obviously knew that Trisha wasn’t wearing any panties. If speculation ran constant in this family’s genes, then all Minnie needed was a few more minutes to pieces together the facts and discover the truth of the matter.
Minnie’s declaration of being back in a few minutes turned into being back in a few seconds. Trisha sat up quickly from her slouch when Minnie walked back into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind her.
“I had to know,” Minnie confessed, just bluntly coming out with it.
“Huh? You had to know what?” Trisha asked, then seeing Minnie’s raised left eyebrow and deducing that nothing good was about to come from this conversation. “What? What did you need to know, Minnie? That I’m not stable. That I don’t have a loving family like this one? That I’m not good enough for Derrick? Is that what you needed to know?”
“Trisha, you are perfect for Derrick,” Minnie said, walking over to the end of the bed and picking up Trisha’s purse before sitting next to the girl. “And you are perfect for this family. The question you need to ask yourself is: Is this family perfect for you? That’s what you need to know. But that’s not what I needed to know.”
“Then what did you need to know?” Trisha asked with honest confusion.
“I needed to know if you are as kinky as my cousin Derrick is,” Minnie answered, Trisha’s face turning as red as her hair.
“What do you mean?” Trish asked, trying to hide the new sense of humiliation that was washing over her.
“Come on, Trisha,” Minnie said, smiling slyly. “If we’re gonna become good cousins, we have to be comfortable enough with each other to speak the truth – even when it’s hard to do so and even when it’s embarrassing.”
Trisha’s pulse began to race again. This was a tremendous moment of decision. And there would be no finer outcome than to spill the beans to Minnie about everything. But Trisha couldn’t make a sound – for fear that Minnie wouldn’t approve of what she heard. So Trisha sat there silently, petrified as to how she was going to get out of this situation with her secret intact.
The truth of the matter was: Trisha wasn’t going to get out of this situation. She didn’t understand that yet.
“Let me see if I can help you say what needs to be said,” Minnie began, placing the purse on her lap – between her folded hands. “I am a mother. I have a daughter at home who isn’t even one year old yet.”
“Okay,” Trisha said, not picking up on what Minnie was getting at.
“Inside of a few months with my daughter in my life, I have become an expert at a few things,” Minnie said, pausing to allow Trisha to put it all together but continuing when she saw the girl still hadn’t. “I’ve seen a whole lot of waddling, heard a whole lot of crinkling and can pick out, from across a room, the posture of someone who needs her diaper changed.”
Then Minnie opened Trisha’s purse, taking out the diaper that Trisha had rolled up so perfectly to fit in the purse. Trisha’s face turned as white as a ghost. Minnie stood up and took hold of Trisha’s shoulders.
“Easy, Trish,” Minnie whispered, steadying Trisha through the dizziness. “It’s okay.”
Though Trisha’s vision was very blurry just then, she could clearly see Minnie’s right hand – reaching into the purse again and taking out the pacifier Trisha always carried with her in reserve.
That was when Trisha’s brain began its slow-but-consistent journey to Mushville. Minnie placed two fingers under Trisha’s chin, raising the girl’s electric eyes up to look at her as she slipped the rubber nipple of the pacifier between Trisha’s lips.
“Be a good girl for me and lie back on the bed,” Minnie said with the sweetest and softest voice Trisha had ever heard.
Minnie placed her one hand behind Trisha at her lower lumbar and her other palm on the back of the girl’s head. Easing her down slowly, Minnie kept eye-contact with her.
“Down ya go,” Minnie said with such a playful tone that Trisha knew she truly was dealing with an expert.
And while watching Minnie unfold the new crinkly diaper, Trisha’s arms went limp – falling to her sides and her fingers curling up into soft fists. It was the beginnings of regression that numbed the girl in all different places, but it was Minnie who charged this reaction in her. As Minnie undid the towel ends from the front of Trish’s waist, the girl lifted her legs up and bent her knees – not giving a second thought to it.
“Aww, what a good girl you are – helping Mommy to change you,” Minnie said with a tone of maternal sugariness that coaxed Trisha further into a mushy-brained state. “I can see why you’re Daddy loves you so much.”
Minnie placed the new unfolded diaper flat to the mattress and pressed down a little. This enabled her to slide the back of the diaper underneath Trisha’s still-diapered bottom and in doing so, both waist lines of the diapers matched up. How clever indeed and yet another bit of proof Minnie was well-versed in completing the task at hand.
“You certainly did wet your pamper, didn’t you?” Minnie asked with an almost song-like quality in her voice as she unfastened the tapes at Trisha’s hips.
Trisha whimpered softly, then steadily nursing on her pacifier – her gentle reaction to feeling the cool air of the guest bedroom rushing over her mound as Minnie lowered the front of the drenched diaper.
“Aww,” Minnie cooed at the girl’s sudden fussiness. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy will have you inside a new pamper before you can count all the fingers on your little hands.”
Trisha smiled brightly behind her pacifier, not sure what to think or how to feel, but knowing that she was suddenly in a yet another situation she couldn’t get out of. This time, however, she really didn’t want to get out of it.
“Shoop!” Minnie said with playful animation as she quickly tugged on the unfastened wet diaper and slid it away.
Then Minnie reached into Trisha’s purse again, taking out the small travel pack of baby wipes and beginning to wipe Trisha’s raised bottom clean. Trisha closed her eyes, whimpering contentment at the gentle feel of caress and the return of cleanliness.
“What a good girl you are!” Minnie whispered softly as Trisha kept her bottom lifted so Minnie could find the little bottle of baby powder in the purse.
Then Minnie coated the girl’s bottom with powder, gently spreading it across her cheeks with fingertips that understood maternal care.
“You’re a little angel. Yes, you are. You’re a little angel baby,” Minnie said, distracting Trisha as she lowered the girl’s bottom into the soft nestle of the new diaper before take another baby wipe to her front. “And you look very pretty, tonight. Pretty for your Daddy and pretty for everyone.”
Minnie took the bottle of powder to Trisha’s front – from hip to hip and then down between her legs. Oh, how gloriously gentle. As the front of the diaper was brought up into place with a snugness that only another girl could understand the necessity of, Trisha marveled at the precision Minnie put into fastening the tapes to keep the snugness there.
Minnie put the powder and travel pack of wipes back into Trisha’s purse and then put the used wipes into the wet diaper before rolling the diaper up into a taped ball with record-quickness.
Oh, yes. Minnie was an expert, indeed. And as she sat Trisha up, helping the girl stand up and get her equilibrium back, Minnie took her by the hand and began to lead the crinkly, waddling girl over to the bedroom door. Trisha followed along, not thinking anything of where she was being led. And it wouldn’t be until Trisha was out in the upstairs hallway that she would startle back slightly to reality.
Nursing on her pacifier with need for soothing, Trisha heard Derrick’s voice downstairs in the sitting room. She crinkled her waddle up to the railing and looked down the staircase at the lights that were pouring out of the sitting room.
“No, no, no,” Minnie whispered to her, taking her by the hand and pulling her away from the top stair. “Come with me. It’s okay. Be a good girl.”
Minnie led the girl back the upstairs hallway to the laundry room where she got the skirt out of the dryer and helped Trisha step into it. Trisha’s shoulders shrunk up and she smiled from ear-to-ear at how warm the skirt felt. Minnie pulled the zipper up at the back of the skirt and reworked the bottom of Trisha’s blouse back inside it.
“All betters now,” Minnie whispered into Trisha’s ear while giving the girl’s freshly powdered and diapered bottom a few loving pats.
Trish turned around and embraced Minnie, hugging her for dear life and wanting to thank her for fixing the problem, but all Trisha could do was hug her new cousin. Moments like that didn’t require words for sentiments to be exchanged.
“Minnie?” Mary called from the sitting room. “Do you need any help?”
“No, Aunt Mary!” Minnie called down to her. “We’ll be right down.”
Minnie took hold of Trisha’s hand and led the wobbly, waddling girl out into the upstairs hallway again – taking her over to the railing and walking down the staircase with her slowly. Trisha’s senses were spun in circles. Her heart as now pounding for affection felt, not fear perceived. As she walked down those stairs, her new diaper was crinkling very loudly, but her brain had been made so mushy she couldn’t control the noise with her movements anymore. That was suddenly a task far too complex to compute for her.
And a split second before they came into view of everyone, Minnie quickly pulled the pacifier from between Trisha’s lips and slipped it back into Trisha’s purse before anyone noticed it. They walked into the sitting room and, as expected, everyone looked at Trisha’s skirt. But with Minnie’s assistance, Trisha spun in a circle to model the skirt for everyone and show that all was well.
Derrick had already put his coat on and was holding Trisha’s coat in his hands. Without wasting another second, Trisha walked over to him and slid her arms into the coat, fastening it up before anyone could hug her.
Then the goodbye brigade began.
“Trisha, it was a pleasure to meet you,” Joseph said, hugging her and stepping to the side for Uncle Sam to hug her as well.
Next, Aunt Flo gave her another full-breasted hug – Trisha lifting her chin up just in time to, once more, avoid the smother. And then it was time to say goodbye to Mary. Oh boy, here it was … the most important moment of the whole visit.
Mary walked up to Trisha, standing tall with her shoulders pulled back. Her elbows were bent and her hands were folded in front of her. There was only a second or two of silence, but for Trisha, those two seconds felt like an eternity.
Then Mary smiled, presumably hurting the muscles in her face as she had hardly used them to smile very much at all the whole time Trisha had been there. But then Mary unfolded her hands and embraced Trisha – a gesture that brought tears to Trisha’s eyes.
“I look forward to see you again soon,” Mary said to Trisha. “And I’m very happy that you make my son so happy. Having met you now, I can see why.”
Mary and Trish ended their goodbye hug, both now knowing that it was only the first of many to come. Trisha walked over to Derrick and hugged his side. Then Minnie walked up next to them, her coat also on and her left hand inside the left front coat pocket – holding something of size inside that pocket.
“You guys mind if I join you?” Minnie asked, sharing knowing-smiles with Trisha.
“The more, the merrier,” Derrick said to his cousin as they walked to the front door.
Getting in the car, Trisha waved to Derrick’s family who all stood at the front door of the house and waved back. Oh my. What other memories would this night yet hold for her?
Also read: “The Lasting Impression“
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