Once Chastity had emerged from her shower, been diapered and had the opportunity to get dressed, she was remarkably cheerful. Even Jack’s anxious report about the institution of ‘regular policy’ failed to dampen her spirits. It was almost to Jack’s chagrin that this was the case, since he’d hoped to at least provoke some sort of negative reaction to his news, or maybe another round of brainstorming into what their hostesses were about. Chastity apparently wasn’t having any of it, and Jack was obliged to give up, at least for the moment. “So, now that we’re all squeaky clean, what should we do with our abundance of free time?”
Chastity shrugged. “Don’t know, and actually don’t care.”
Jack arched an eyebrow. “That a fact.”
“It is,” Chastity affirmed.
“Or maybe you’re getting into your baby mode again,” he pointed out.
She shrugged again. “Maybe I am.” For emphasis, she fished out her pacifier and popped it into her mouth and gave Jack a doe-eyed look.
This time around he was nonplussed. “That only works so many times, you know,” he said, but there was a blush sneaking into his cheeks. Chastity smirked at him from around her pacifier, but apparently hadn’t given up the fight just yet. She began acting the part, cooing and making other baby-like noises, leaning way back in her chair and becoming enraptured with her feet as she sent them above her head. Her skirt fell away and revealed her trim waist and the thick—could it be even cuter?—diaper ever so snugly taped around it. She had him then. “Awe jeez,” he groaned and looked away, barely able to disguise the fact that his face had gone completely red.

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