Diaper Lover ;)

hiding from my new roomie to wet my PullUps in the bathroom 🤫💦 but my soggy diaper matched my nail polish perfectly! ✨

hi, im so glad you liked the video!! 💕 there are a few reasons why I can't just post the whole thing here, but I made it available for purchase on my JFF store and C4S for just $3.99, no subscription needed! 🫶

there's also an extended version of the compilation preview currently pinned on my X and Bluesky (I feel like I can get away with more there lol)

I bite my lip and close my eyes as I slide into her. She tenses and squeezes around me, sending waves of pleasure shooting through my being as I fill her up.

"Fuuuuuck," I moan, "You're so fucking… tight!"

She whimpers and groans beneath me, her hands working their way to my waist, where she wraps her hands around my hips, and starts pushing me back.

"Baby," she moans as she presses her palms against my waist, gently forcing me back out of her, "It's too much."

Hey there! So, as it turns out, my little break from posting lasted approximately nineteen months, which is obviously a completely normal and reasonable amount of time to disappear for, haha. I’m sure older readers are starting to look at their calendars like, yep, it’s about time Serah showed up again. Listen, I kept meaning to come back sooner, but then enough time passed that coming back started to feel like A Whole Thing, and apparently my solution to that was to keep not posting because surely making the gap even longer would help with the awkwardness eventually. Outstanding strategy, honestly.

I’ve had quite a few people ask me how I’m doing, whether I’m still wearing diapers, whether I’m still using cloth, and whether I ever planned on posting again, so I figured I might as well do what I’ve done after previous little (big) disappearances and put everything into one large life update! That way I can answer the most common questions, catch everyone up, and pretend this was all definitely planned from the beginning.

So firstly, life-wise, quite a lot has changed!

I’ve actually moved to Thailand now, which has obviously been a very large change, and I’ve also gone back to teaching after my office-job era! I know, the complete lack of surprise from anyone who knew me before I announced that I was taking a break from teaching, haha.

I did genuinely enjoy trying something different, and I think stepping away for a while was good for me, but apparently teaching and I were only ever on a temporary separation. I’m back into it now, I’m enjoying it, and I have once again accepted that my natural environment involves being surrounded by small people asking me too many questions at the exact same time.

Moving countries, building a new life, returning to teaching, and generally working out how everything functions over here has kept me very busy, as you can imagine, but honestly, things are good! Really good, actually. Thailand is lovely, the food is amazing, my partners moved with me, I’m very happy here, and the weather is wonderful right up until I have to be outside for more than about eight minutes while wearing a thick cloth diaper, haha.

So yes, as far as the part most of you are actually here for goes, I am still wearing diapers full time, and cloth diapers are still my main setup (and have been for almost two years at this point!). I know, the disposable diaper industry is in shambles about it. Tragically, I was right, and continue to be right, and cloth diapers are still an extremely good choice for me.

When I last properly wrote about them, cloth was still somewhat new for me right. I had gone from using cloth boosters inside disposables, to trying full cloth diapers, to suddenly realising that I liked them enough to make them my main protection.

At the time, I talked a lot about the practical side of that change, like the comfort, absorbency, laundry, bulk, upfront costs, clothing, liners, and everything else you need to think about when completely changing how you manage your incontinence. Now though I’ve had much longer to actually live with them, and honestly, I think switching to cloth full time has probably been one of the most mentally important changes I’ve ever made in managing my incontinence.

That sounds very dramatic, haha, but let me break it down a little!

I don’t think I fully understood how much the cost of disposable diapers affected my relationship with my incontinence in the past until that pressure disappeared. Disposables are expensive right, like legitimately expensive, especially when you need reliable protection every day, wet heavily, and aren’t going to just accept dealing with wearing thin medical diapers and simply hoping for the best.

When I was still wearing disposables, every change reduced my stock. Every heavier day cost more money. Every time I ordered another case, it was a reminder that yes, I was spending a lot on premium diapers every month. Sometimes I would then put on a fresh diaper, be comfortable and ready for the rest of the day, and then end up inevitably messy not long afterward, which meant that barely used premium diaper had to get changed again.

Obviously, it had still done exactly what I needed it to do. It had protected my clothes, contained everything, and made the whole situation much easier to manage, so logically it was not wasted at all, right, but emotionally it could still feel like, fantastic, there goes another expensive diaper because my body chose truly impeccable timing. That resentment definitely added up more than I realised.

There have been a couple of points in the past that I’ve talked about on this blog where I definitely got into a bad headspace about my incontinence and decided I should try to stop wearing diapers (recorded here, somewhere, listen it's a long blog). I did not successfully stop being incontinent, obviously, as anyone who has followed me since then may have noticed, because my bladder and bowels were not particularly interested in accepting that suggestion despite my occasional insistence that they really ought to, haha, but since switching to cloth full time, I genuinely don’t think I’ve had one of those bad headspace moments again.

Cloth removed the feeling that every accident came with a receipt attached. If I need to change, I change. If my body decides to make a freshly changed diaper messy, that is still inconvenient, obviously, but the diaper has not been permanently used up. I wash it and use it again. There is laundry involved, yes, and cloth has its own inconveniences, but I no longer feel like my body is forcing me to throw money away every time it decides to be annoying about timing.

Anyway, cloth fundamentally changed my relationship with diapers way more than I had initially realised, and not just because they are comfortable or absorbent or because I can get cute covers for them, though listen, those are all very good reasons too, haha, but because it took away any last sense of financial guilt I had left with my diapers. The bigger question that leads into though, of course, is how am I actually doing with it?

These days, I’m doing really well.

I still like waking up wet in the morning. I still like putting on thick, comfortable protection and knowing I am secure for the day. I like that my bladder can leak or bowels can empty whenever they want and I do not have to stop what I’m doing or give it much thought at all. I love my cloth diapers particularly. They are soft, incredibly absorbent, reassuringly thick, reusable, and they feel very right for me.

That does not mean total incontinence is always a delightful walk in the park, haha. Sometimes diapers are hot. Sometimes my skin gets irritated. Sometimes laundry is annoying. Sometimes protection leaks for no obvious reason despite behaving perfectly the previous fifty times because alas, betrayal is always possible, and sometimes my body picks the least convenient moment imaginable to do something dramatic, but those things do not cancel out the positives for me.

I think people sometimes assume that if you admit incontinence can be frustrating, that means you must secretly hate wearing diapers, or if you say that you love your diapers and enjoy aspects of being incontinent, that means you are pretending there are no inconveniences, but no, we are going to do this scary thing called nuance again (my favorite word on this blog), haha.

I can love bedwetting and still be annoyed when protection leaks onto my sheets. I can enjoy the freedom of not having to worry about toilets and still dislike skin irritation. I can be comfortable with my bowel incontinence as part of my life and still think my body has the worst timing imaginable on occasion. None of that is contradictory. It is just real life. Most of the time, my diapers just work, and I really appreciate them for that.

I leak much more than I consciously notice now. Occasionally I’ll feel a vague little drip while I’m out, but most of the time my diaper is already wet and warm, so slightly more wet and warm is not exactly breaking news, haha. I generally notice the accumulated result later rather than every individual wetting or leak, and even when I do notice, it is usually just a quiet little, oh, my body is wetting again, okay, and then I continue with whatever I was doing.

Honestly, I really like that. I like that my body can do its thing in the background and it does not have to become an interruption. I like that wetting usually feels ordinary and reassuring rather than urgent or important. I like that I can wake up in a very wet cloth diaper and think, yep, everything worked exactly as intended, instead of having to get out of bed in the middle of the night because my bladder demanded immediate attention.

There is a lot about incontinence that can make life harder, but there is also a lot in my current reality that I actively enjoy, and I do not think I need to pretend otherwise just to make my experience sound sufficiently serious, haha. That is a huge part of why I feel so settled now, I think. Incontinence does not constantly interrupt me emotionally. I don’t need to remember exactly when it happened, how much it was, whether I could have stopped it, or what it supposedly means about me. Most of the time, it blends into the background, and my diapers turn it into something comfortable and manageable enough that I can simply continue living my life with incontinence and not constantly think about it.

I also recently realised that I’ve been wetting the bed for more than a decade now, which wow, that was a slightly alarming thing to calculate, haha. From what I can work out from my old posts, it began around late 2015, so bedwetting has been part of my life for roughly a third of it and basically my entire adult life. Time really does fly when you are waking up wet every morning, apparently. No wonder memories of being continent have become so fuzzy.

I can remember the hard facts about my prior continence. I know there was a time when I woke up to use the bathroom, noticed my bladder filling, held on during inconvenient moments, and planned around toilet access like everyone else, but trying to remember what any of that actually felt like is a bit like trying to recall a dream. The information exists somewhere, but it does not feel instinctively connected to the person I am now.

I wrote an entire big rambling draft post about this phenomenon before I disappeared, because past me was a bit unsettled by how much those memories of continence and control were fading. They feel like they should be important right. These days though, I think I just mostly find the whole thing interesting, because continence does not feel like something I am actively missing. It is not a treasured former ability I keep looking back toward. It is simply not part of how my current life works. My life works with diapers, and honestly, I really like that it does. So I suppose that is where I am now.

I’m still very incontinent. I still wear thick diapers full time. I still prefer comfort, absorbency, and reliability over pretending nobody could possibly notice what I’m wearing. I still like cute covers, probably to a degree that has become financially dangerous in its own separate way, because apparently saving money by switching away from disposables just creates more opportunities to think, well, this cover has bunnies and the other one only has kittens, obviously these are completely different and necessary products and I need to buy every single one that gets advertised in my inbox because variety of cuteness is essential, haha.

I still become extremely opinionated about diaper design, laundry, hydration, or why a product marketed for severe incontinence seems to have been designed for someone who wets approximately three tablespoons per calendar year, but I’m also more settled, confident, and genuinely happy with my diapered life than I think I’ve ever been. Cloth did not solve every inconvenience, it just removed one of the biggest sources of resentment I had toward managing my incontinence, and that gave me much more space to appreciate my diapers for what they actually do and what they actually mean to me, which is a lot, who could have guessed.

As for the blog, I’m not going to make any dramatic promises about posting every week or returning with a perfectly organised schedule, because we now have approximately nineteen months of evidence demonstrating how reliable those promises would be, haha.

Digging through my old posts though has reminded me how much I still care about talking about this stuff, and how much I genuinely enjoy doing it when I am not placing some enormous imaginary expectation on myself to produce the perfect post that answers everything for everyone forever, despite my hopes and dreams for such.

Sometimes incontinence is frustrating, and yet more often than not I am deeply grateful for it, because I feel that this is how I'm supposed to be. Sometimes I am standing in the Thailand heat wearing an extremely thick cloth diaper and wondering whether absorbency is worth the fact that I am slowly baking, even though the answer is, and will always be, yes. Both of those things can be true at once.

Anyway, I’m still here! Still teaching, still incontinent, still wetting the bed, still wearing extremely thick cloth diapers, still choosing cute covers with the seriousness of meeting an imaginary dress code, and still occasionally discovering that my body has made a decision without inviting me to the meeting.

Honestly, things are pretty great.

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, painting everything in soft golden light.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror, turning slowly from side to side. Her long brunette hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves, a pale blue bow clipped neatly in the centre. The yellow sundress hugged her delicate frame perfectly, it was feminine, flirty, and just short enough to make her feel a little daring.

It’s been so long since Daddy and I had a proper romantic date, she thought, smoothing the dress over her hips. Just the two of us doing regular couple stuff. Like grown-ups.

She studied her reflection with a hopeful, determined smile. Big Disney princess doe eyes, plump pink lips, and her adorable tiny button nose Daddy always loved to kiss. She'd made sure to apply her make up carefully, highlighting all her best features. Today she looked like a proper girlfriend.

No diapers today, she told herself firmly. The thin lace panties underneath felt light and freeing. I can do this. I’m going to be his big girl all day. No accidents. Just a real date like old times.

She was smart, capable, and mature… and today she was determined to prove it!

One misty afternoon, while searching for moonbloom petals, Elara stumbled upon a small, ornate chest half-buried beneath a cluster of glowing fungi. The chest was carved with playful symbols—stars, rattles, and smiling clouds. Inside, nestled on velvet, lay a single pacifier. It was beautifully crafted: the shield was silver etched with swirling runes, the teat made of some soft, luminous crystal that pulsed with gentle pink light. A faint hum of enchantment surrounded it.

“Strange,” she murmured, picking it up. It felt warm in her palm, comforting even. Without thinking, she brushed the crystal teat against her lips, testing its strange allure. A spark jumped from the pacifier to her tongue.

The world tilted.

A wave of tingling magic rushed through her body, starting at her mouth and spreading outward like warm honey. Elara gasped, dropping to her knees as her limbs softened and her height began to shrink. Her simple tunic and trousers shimmered, transforming into a fluffy, pastel-pink onesie with embroidered stars and a snap-crotch that appeared with a soft pop. Beneath it, a thick, padded diaper materialized, crinkling gently with every tiny movement.

“No… what’s happening?” she whispered, but her voice came out higher, softer, with a childish lilt. Her once-athletic frame rounded into the chubby, adorable proportions of a baby—plump cheeks, tiny hands and feet, and a smooth, innocent face framed by bouncy curls that had replaced her long brown hair. She couldn’t have been taller than three feet now, sitting in the moss with her legs splayed out helplessly.

The pacifier, still in her hand, floated up on its own and gently pressed into her mouth. She tried to resist, but the moment the crystal teat touched her tongue, a profound calm washed over her. Sucking instinctively, she felt her worries melt away. Adult thoughts—bills, responsibilities, the pressure to prove herself—faded into a happy fog. In their place bloomed simple joys: the softness of her new clothes, the secure hug of the diaper, and an overwhelming desire to be cared for.

Elara (or Ellie, as the magic seemed to whisper she should be called) crawled forward on all fours, giggling around the pacifier. The woods, once mysterious and slightly dangerous, now felt like a giant playground. Fireflies danced closer, forming playful patterns above her head. A nearby stream babbled invitingly, and she splashed at the water with her pudgy hands, laughing delightedly as droplets sparkled in the air.

As evening fell, a kind traveler—a tall woman with silver hair and a traveler’s cloak—happened upon the scene. She had been following the same old legends of the Enchanted Chest.

“Oh my,” the woman said, smiling warmly. “It seems the Pacifier of Eternal Youth has found a new little one.”

Ellie looked up with wide, trusting eyes, sucking contentedly. The traveler scooped her up effortlessly, cradling her against her shoulder. The magic pacifier stayed firmly in place, its enchantment ensuring Ellie would remain safe, happy, and regressed for as long as she wished—or until someone removed it with a willing reversal spell.

Back in the traveler’s cozy wagon, Ellie was changed into a fresh diaper scented with lavender, fed warm milk from a bottle that never emptied, and rocked to sleep under a blanket of stars. Deep inside, a tiny spark of her old self remained, content and grateful for this unexpected escape into pure, magical innocence.

Enema? Pee? Messy?

No problem, my Pampers is the best Potty 🙈

See more on L*nk 💞

lips locked, adrenaline rushing, completely oblivious to their potty signals until they feel warmth spreading and being sucked away from their skin

or maybe they really do know they need to go but don’t want to ruin the moment. they’ll be ok, they can hold it, just one more minute, this feels so good…all is well until cg catches them off guard with a nibble of their ear or grab of their crotch. they gasp and all off a sudden the floodgates open, or they unclench and a mound forms in the back of their padding

panting in between kisses, grinding their hips into cg’s lap, wet diaper stifling any real sensation for the little. cg on the other hand is getting a crotch full of warmth and weight and loving every minute of it.

I went ahead and wrote a abdl themed story! hope yall enjoy! feel free to repost or share! ________________________________________________________________

Emily had told herself a thousand times that she was too old for this. Twenty-three, fresh out of college, living on her own... and yet here she was, cheeks burning, standing in the middle of Mrs. Harlow's living room while the older woman inspected her like she was still sixteen.

"You know the rules, sweetie," Mrs. Harlow said calmly, arms crossed over her ample chest. "When I watch you, we do things my way. No arguments."

Emily tugged at the hem of her too-short sundress—the one Mrs. Harlow had insisted she wear when she'd shown up for what was supposed to be "just helping with some chores around the house." The truth was far more humiliating. Emily's landlord had threatened eviction over late rent, and Mrs. Harlow, her old neighbor from childhood, had offered to cover it... on the condition that Emily spent the weekend "under her supervision." Emily had assumed it meant cleaning, cooking, maybe some light yard work.

She hadn't expected the diaper.

It crinkled loudly with every tiny shift of her weight. Thick, white, taped snug around her hips, the kind with the babyish prints of smiling teddy bears marching across the front. Mrs. Harlow had produced it from a drawer like it was the most normal thing in the world, cooing about how "big girls who can't keep their promises need a little reminder of who's really in charge."

Emily had protested—loudly at first—until Mrs. Harlow had simply lifted the front of the dress and patted the front of the padding with a firm hand. "Shush now, princess. You're already leaking a little just from the embarrassment. See? This is exactly why you need it."

That had shut Emily up fast. Because she had felt the first warm trickle escape when the woman had taped her in, her body betraying her in the most mortifying way possible.

Now, an hour later, Emily stood frozen while Mrs. Harlow circled her slowly, adjusting the dress here, smoothing the ruffles there.

"Arms up," Mrs. Harlow ordered.

Emily obeyed without thinking, letting the woman lift the dress higher, exposing the bulging diaper completely. The tapes were still pristine white, but the padding between her legs already felt suspiciously warm and heavy. She clenched her thighs together instinctively, only to hear the telltale squish.

Mrs. Harlow clucked her tongue. "Already? Goodness, Emily. I thought college girls were supposed to have better control."

"I-I didn't mean to..." Emily stammered, voice small. Her face was on fire.

"Of course you didn't, baby." Mrs. Harlow reached out and gave the front of the diaper a gentle pat-pat-pat, right over the soggy spot. The wet sound was unmistakable. "But that's why we have these, isn't it? To catch all those silly little accidents."

Emily whimpered. She wanted to sink through the floor. Instead, she felt another small spurt escape—hot, unstoppable—and the diaper drank it up greedily, swelling just a fraction more.

Mrs. Harlow smiled, pleased. "There we go. Good girl. Let it all out. No potty for you this weekend, remember? Only your diapee."

Emily's knees wobbled. She tried to protest again, but the words came out as a pathetic whine. Mrs. Harlow simply scooped her up under the arms like she weighed nothing and carried her over to the oversized changing mat laid out in the center of the living room rug.

"On your back, legs up," she instructed, laying Emily down with practiced ease.

Emily obeyed, cheeks flaming as her dress was flipped up and the sodden diaper exposed fully. Mrs. Harlow untaped it slowly, deliberately, letting the cool air hit Emily's damp skin. The used padding sagged heavily between her legs, proof of just how little control she'd had.

"Look at that mess," Mrs. Harlow murmured, almost fondly. "Such a soggy little baby. No wonder you couldn't hold it."

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, mortified, as Mrs. Harlow wiped her clean with cool baby wipes, powdered her generously—way more powder than necessary—and slid a fresh diaper underneath. This one was even thicker, with extra padding in the seat. The tapes were pulled tight, sealing her in with a series of loud rips.

"All done," Mrs. Harlow announced, patting the freshly padded crotch. "Now, let's get you something to drink. Babies need their bottles, after all."

Emily opened her mouth to argue... but the pacifier was already being pressed between her lips. She suckled automatically, too overwhelmed to fight.

Mrs. Harlow lifted her again, settling her on her hip like an oversized toddler. "There we go. My sweet, helpless little girl. You're going to spend the rest of the weekend just like this—crinkly, padded, and completely taken care of."

As Mrs. Harlow carried her toward the kitchen, Emily felt the inevitable pressure building again. She squirmed, trying to hold it, but the thick diaper and the gentle bouncing motion made resistance impossible.

A moment later, she gave up.

The flood came in a long, warm rush, soaking into the fresh padding with a soft hiss. Mrs. Harlow felt it immediately—the sudden warmth spreading under her hand—and chuckled.

"That's my good baby," she cooed, giving Emily's padded bottom a loving squeeze. "All nice and full already. Don't worry... Mommy Harlow has plenty more diapers where that came from."

Emily buried her burning face in the woman's shoulder, suckling harder on the paci, resigned.

Deep down, in the most secret part of her, a tiny voice whispered that maybe—just maybe—she didn't hate it as much as she pretended.

And the diaper crinkled happily with every step as Mrs. Harlow carried her helpless charge deeper into her weekend of babyhood.

Mrs. Harlow carried Emily into the cozy kitchen, the thick diaper crinkling loudly with every gentle bounce on her hip. Emily's face stayed buried against the woman's shoulder, the pacifier muffling her soft whimpers as another warm wave slowly spread through the fresh padding. The new diaper was already starting to feel noticeably heavier between her legs—warm, squishy, and impossible to ignore.

"Such a good little baby," Mrs. Harlow murmured, rubbing slow circles over the back of Emily's dress where it covered the bulging seat. "Mommy can feel how full you're getting already. No holding back now, hmm? That's what diapees are for."

She settled into one of the tall kitchen chairs, shifting Emily effortlessly onto her lap so the girl's padded bottom rested directly against her thigh. The pressure made Emily squirm instinctively—the soggy bulk squishing audibly with the movement.

"Shhh, settle," Mrs. Harlow said firmly, reaching for the warm bottle she'd prepared earlier. It was oversized, the kind meant for "big babies," filled with sweet warmed milk. She popped the pacifier out with a gentle tug and replaced it with the bottle's wide nipple.

"Open up, princess."

Emily hesitated for just a second—long enough for Mrs. Harlow to arch an eyebrow and give the front of the diaper a single, warning pat that sent a fresh crinkle and a tiny spurt escaping.

Emily's lips parted immediately.

The nipple slid in, and she began to suckle automatically, the warm milk flowing in steady, comforting rhythms. Her eyes fluttered half-closed despite herself; the combination of the full, heavy diaper pressing against her, the gentle rocking of Mrs. Harlow's lap, and the rhythmic sucking was almost hypnotic.

Mrs. Harlow watched with a soft, satisfied smile, one hand supporting the bottle while the other rested possessively on the front of Emily's padding—fingers occasionally giving little encouraging pats right over the teddy bear prints that were now starting to fade slightly under the swelling.

"Look at you," she cooed. "All tucked away in your nice thick diapee, drinking your baba like the helpless little girl you really are. No big-girl potty this weekend, remember? Just lots and lots of accidents for Mommy to take care of."

Emily's cheeks burned hotter with every word, but her body betrayed her again—another long, slow release hissed into the diaper as the milk hit her system. The padding drank it up eagerly, swelling further until it forced her thighs apart just a little more. The tapes pulled tight against her skin.

Mrs. Harlow felt the warmth bloom under her palm and chuckled low. "There she goes again. Such a leaky baby. Good thing I stocked up on extras."

After the bottle was finished—Emily sucking the last drops with soft, needy whimpers—Mrs. Harlow popped the pacifier back in and lifted her once more. This time she carried her into the living room and set her down gently on the thick, soft playmat in the center of the floor.

Surrounded by pastel blocks, a few stuffed animals, and a colorful activity gym, Emily looked every bit the oversized toddler.

"On your tummy now, sweetie. Time for some playtime while Mommy checks how soggy we really are."

Emily obeyed slowly, lowering herself onto her padded belly. The thick diaper forced her legs apart in an awkward frog-like position; every tiny shift made the wet padding squish audibly against the mat. She buried her face in her arms, humiliated... but also strangely calm.

Mrs. Harlow knelt beside her and lifted the back of the short dress without ceremony. Cool air hit the exposed, swollen seat of the diaper.

"Oh my," she said with mock surprise, pressing two fingers firmly into the sagging padding. It yielded with a loud, wet squish. "Completely soaked through already. And it's only been—what?—an hour since your last change?"

Emily whimpered around the paci, hips twitching involuntarily at the pressure.

Mrs. Harlow gave the seat a few firm pats, making the soggy mess shift and squelch. "Don't worry, baby girl. Mommy's going to let you marinate in this one a little longer. Builds character... and teaches little girls exactly where they belong."

She reached for a nearby rattle and placed it in Emily's hand. "Play nicely now. Shake it for Mommy. Show me what a good, helpless baby you can be."

Emily's fingers closed around the toy almost automatically. The soft jingle filled the room as she gave it a tentative shake—then another, stronger one. The motion made her padded bottom wiggle, crinkling and squishing with every movement.

Mrs. Harlow sat back on her heels, watching with fond amusement. "That's it, sweetie. Just like that. No big-girl thoughts, no potty training, no pretending you're anything other than my padded little princess."

Emily suckled harder on the pacifier, the rattle jingling in rhythm with her tiny, involuntary squirms. Deep inside the warm, swollen diaper, another small accident trickled out—unresisted, unstoppable.

And somewhere beneath the burning embarrassment, a quiet, secret part of her started to relax into it completely.