She shifted her head some so that her right ear was directly over his heart; it beat with calming regularity and each beat seemed to chase the nocturnal demons of her mind further and further away, as if each thump were cannon going off by the numbers. It had been a great many years since Chastity had been so thoroughly troubled by a dream. The last time it had happened she had wet her bed out of fright, at the tender young age of five. Eleven—almost twelve—years later and it happened again, except whatever wetting there might have been was locked away within the plush of her diaper. Reflecting on the memory of that stormy night of her childhood made her grateful for her diaper now, but also made her hate it with a passion. Much as she enjoyed diapers and in some cases all that entailed, she was most emphatically not someone who needed them for anything more than her own personal entertainment.
Circumstances Scene 140
