It started in Japan. I was living and working there, doing what the majority of English speakers do while in Japan. I was teaching English. Nice work if you can get it. Pays well, and if you don't mind the fact that sometimes your students could care less about what you are trying to teach them, the work can be satisfying. I was part of a rather large programme that I won't mention by name out of respect for those who run it and those taking part in it, the programme.

I was teaching at a Girls Senior High School up in the northern part of the Main Island. Compared to some people I had a very nice situation. The school was in a good sized town on a train line so it was no difficulty to get places. One of the most important places to get was out of the town. Sure, I liked the place, but sometimes it is a joy to go someplace where no one knows you.

Also, I had fairly good students. It was a mid to high level academic school, so most of the students were pretty serious. They may have cared less about what I was trying to teach them, English as a living language, the art of conversation, but at least they were polite about it. Ultimately they were more interested in what was in their text books, what they would be tested on for their University entrance exams.

That was a little depressing, but only a little. While the students might not have had much time for me during English class, they loved me outside of it. I usually had a full calendar each day with students wanting me to eat lunch with them, or for me to come to their clubs, or to sit in on other classes, or to play with them after school. I suppose it was lucky that few of the teachers I worked with needed me to do anything because I was kept busy by my students.

That was fine with me because I really liked them. I suppose hanging around with a bunch of teenage girls was allowing me to revisit my own teen years. Sometimes I felt I was more of a student than a teacher. The fact that I was not much taller than many of my students helped in that feeling.

I suppose no is a good time for the prerequisite description of yours truly.

As I said, I'm not particularly tall. One hundred and fifty five centimetres, that's a little over five feet for those of you still using the Imperial system, and I've always been a little too slim. I never much liked the word skinny. I'm also terribly cute. Yes, I know, aren't they always. Well, in this case, were I not as cute as I am, what was to happen later never could have. So bear with me. My eyes are a shade of brown, close to green. Or so I like to say. The truth is that they are mostly brown, as much as I wished otherwise.

And those stupid contacts made my eyes itch! I so wanted to have green eyes. You see, I'm a redhead.

If you are thinking, 'so', well, you don't know Japan. Don't ask me why, but Japan, well, at least many of the men, have a thing for redheads. I don't know how many times I've been hit on, even by some of the male teachers at my school, who really should know better.

I sometimes think that the reason I was sent to a girl's school is that they were worried about what effect I might have boys were I teaching them. Of course I had the same effect on some of the girls, but that is another story, and one that ended in a boring manner in all but one case.

Anyway, cute, short redhead, teaching in a girls high school in northern Japan. Got that?

Right.

So, back to my students since they were my best friends while I was there. As I said above, being with them gave me a chance to be a teenage girl again. That's not a chance everyone gets. My students, most of them too smart for their own good, seemed to pick up on this and treated me as a friend rather than a teacher.

That was fine with me.

I looked more like one of their friends anyway rather than their teacher. One time I was riding home on the train, this was in my first few months there, and I was approached by a group of young men. I think they were university students. We started talking and I told them what school I was teaching at, though I never used those words exactly. I was shocked when they asked me what year I was in. One of them suggested second year.

They thought I was an exchange student of some sort. I was really kind of funny. When I told them I was a teacher they refused to believe me until I took out my gaijin card and showed them just what my profession was. They were quite shocked.

Well, that more of less puts it all into place I think. There are plenty of stories I could tell you about the three years I taught there. Like how some of the girls got me a school uniform then took me into the city dressed as they were on a Saturday when they were supposed to be in school (I didn't work on Saturday).

But I won't.

Suffice it to say that when I finally left after three years (the maximum time you can be in the programme) it was a very sad time. I was crying along with a number of my students, and a few of the teachers, which was nice. I knew I was going to be missed as much as I would miss the place. Still, I would not be leaving Japan, so it was very possible that I would see them again. I promised to show up for the third year's graduation in March.

Now, let's jump back a few months.

As I knew that my time at the school was finishing up, and that I wanted to stay in Japan, I decided to start looking for other employment.

While there are a number of possibilities of where to work in Japan, if you are there on a visa, the type of work is pretty limited. Teaching English is the big thing, mostly in small English schools; teaching middle-aged housewives, and helping kinds pass their entrance exams. It was not quite what I wanted. I guess I had been spoiled at my last school.

So I went looking for a similar set up. I had sent out letters to a number of schools but there was one in Tokyo that I was hoping to get a job at. The kochou sensei, the principal of my school, had gone there as a student and had set up the interview for me.

The interview went quite well, but they did not want to bring in a new teacher in the middle of the school year. I was told that they would likely hire me with the start of the new school year in April. It sounded like a good deal, they were basically hiring me to do the same work as I was doing in the school I was working at at that time. The exact same work basically. Help the English teachers and hang around with the students.

If the students liked me it was more likely that they'd be willing to speak English to me. Of course by that time I could speak Japanese quite well, but I pretended otherwise in the school.

So that was all well and good, but what was I going to do between August and April?

I considered going home, but I really did not want to.

That left taking a job at one of those small English schools until April came. Well, perhaps there were some other options.

I went to a modelling agency, small nickel and dime place really, but they told me they could offer me work every few days, but they would not sponsor me for me visa renewal. Actually, about the only place I could get my visa renewed was if I went to work for one of those English schools.

I was about to leave when I first met Ristsuko, not that that was her real name.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help notice that you seem to be looking for a job," she said, smiling at me.

She was a model there, part time, like I was going to be. She was a little taller than me, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Very cute.

I smiled back, Ritsuko is like that, she has one of those so-called infectious smiles. "Well, yes. I'm kind of thinking about getting work at an English school." It was easy to be open in Japan. Everyone is really nice. It's a place where I can walk down a dark street a night and feel safe.

"They kind of suck," she told me.

"I know."

"Come on, let me buy you a coffee."

I agreed and we left the agency, walking to a near by café. I liked her already and I had a hunch she was about to tell me about a great job.

We took seats at an outdoor table and she ordered to American coffees.

"I'm S…." I began.

"No, don't tell me your name," she said, interrupting me.

"Pardon?" I was more than a little confused by that.

"It's kind of hard to explain. First, I know of a place you can work. Real good pay, easy enough work, and it will take care of all your visa problems."

"Okay, sounds interesting, but what's with the names?"

"The work is at a hostess bar and there is a lot of confidentially involved. They call me Ritsuko by the way, not my real name of course."

"Of course," I said to her. "A hostess bar?"

"It's not like prostitution you know."

"I know," I said nodding. In fact I knew a lot about hostess bars. In my first year I had actually considered taking a part-time job at one with one of the other foreigners. I had decided against once I decided that the other woman was an idiot. Who would want to work with someone like that?

I had not given hostessing a thought since then, but it was a viable job option. And the money was bound to be good. "I suppose it would not hurt to at least give it some thought, Ritsuko-san."

"Good."

"What sort of place is it?"

"Well," Ritsuko's smile turned a little hesitant. "I'm not allowed to really say. It was the confidentiality I was talking about. You'd have to talk to Mama-san."

"Mama-san?"

"The owner."

"Of course."

She looked at her watch. "I could give her a call, arrange for an interview, if you want."

I was no longer so sure about this offer, it sounded a little off. Still, I had a good feeling about Ritsuko, and she was offering me what I wanted, a chance to stay in Japan. I agreed.

While I was drinking my coffee Ritsuko had taken a cellular phone-everyone in Tokyo has one almost-and called up Mama-san. It was a very simple conversation on her part, she told Mama-san that she had found a potential employee, and then there were a lot of Hais and Iies.

Finally the conversation ended. She folded the phone close and put it into her bag. "Are you free right now?"

"Well, I had planned to visit some English schools in the area, but I can put that off."

"Great. Mama-san will see you in an hour, if you are still interested."

"Sure," I said, still feeling a little worried.

As Ritsuko took me to the interview location I was getting a little worried. Perhaps I was walking into a sex ring of some sort, or white slavery, or a mugging. Well, the mugging idea did not seem too likely. I was sure Ritsuko was going to lead me to a dingy back alley somewhere, but instead we ended up in Central Tokyo, walking into the lobby of a very modern office building. Mama-san was making use of an office there, though it was not hers. A friend of hers, or a friend of a friend more than likely. Mama-san was like that, she was deeply concerned with confidentiality and made it hard for anyone to find her that she did not want finding her.

It was not as if she needed to be that careful. No one was after her or anything. It was just the way she was. Truthfully, I think she enjoyed all the cloak and dagger stuff.

So, in a short time I was seated in front of a Japanese woman. She was taller than I was; she'd be a little taller than average height for a North American woman. She was probably in her mid forties, a little white shot through her black hair that she wore in a severe bun. I don't think you'd ever call Mama-san beautiful, handsome perhaps, or striking. She had an intensity that could reduce you to tears if she ever turned it on you.

She was wearing a kimono when I met her. She almost always wore a kimono, usually darker colours. She was seated behind a large desk. When I had come in she had told me to take a seat then had asked for a copy of my resume. As I was job hunting I did have one on me. I sat there as she read through my resume, wondering what she was thinking.

She finally put the resume aside. "You know what this job entails?" she asked me.

"It's a hostessing job," I said.

"To an extent. My clientele is very select, and they are all women."

"Is it a lesbian place?" I asked.

She paused, a slightly cross look passing across her face. I suspect that Mama-san has been asked that question a lot and has begun to tire of it. "Not as such. While I am sure that some of them are, I suspect most are just there because they like my girls."

I nodded, thinking I understood. The women were comfortable with other women. It made sense.

She looked at me for a moment, then said, "Stand up."

"Pardon?"

"Stand up, turn around."

I got to my feet and did what she said.

"Take of your clothes."

I looked shocked.

"The uniform you wear will be showing quite a bit of skin. Please, remove your clothes. You can keep your underwear on."

Maybe I'm just stupid. Maybe I was more desperate for a job than I realised. Maybe I had realised, on one level, that I could trust Mama-san. Whatever the reason, I stripped down to my underwear.

Mama-san looked me over. "You're a little skinny," she said.

I fumed at that.

"It should not matter though. Please, put your clothes back on."

I quickly got dressed and took my seat again.

"When do you finish up at the school you work at?"

"The twenty fourth of July," I told her.

"And when would you be available for work?"

"Well, I was thinking of travelling a bit, so I was thinking the first of August, but I could start sooner if you wanted."

She shook her head. "The first of August will be fine. If you decide you want this job, call this number. You will get a recording. Leave a message saying that you want to job, use the name Akiko."

"Akiko?" I asked, looking up from the card she had given me.

"Yes. For purposes of confidentiality you will not use your real name. If you come to work for me you are Akiko. It is not really necessary, but it is how I like things to be done."

I nodded and got the feeling then that if Mama-san wanted something done in a certain way, it was done in that way.

"You may go now. Talk to Ritsuko, she will tell you exactly what the work entails."

Recognising the dismissal for what it was I got up and left the office, bowing and excusing myself as I left.

Ritsuko was waiting for me, looking all excited. "So, what happened?"

"If I want the job I can have it," I told her. "Oh, and you can call me Akiko," I said, smiling.

She smiled back. "Akiko-san. So, she ask me to fill you in?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let's go. I know a nice place where we can talk."

Ritsuko's nice place turned out to be a karoke place. We got a booth, which of course was sound proofed. Ritsuko really likes karoke. I personally could live without it.

After several songs we got down to business. She explained the entire thing to me. To say I was a little shocked would have been an understatement.

"We dress up as babies?" I asked.

"No, we wear diapers. Now, admittedly, that might not sound like much of a difference, but trust me, it is."

"That's crazy!"

"Of course it is," she leaned back on the lounge and smiled. "It's just one of many crazy things in this life, but this one gets you some serious cash. Sure it is a little gross in some ways, but a lot less than, say gutting fish for a cannery, or having fat drunks drool and paw you. All things considered, this is a cake walk."

We continued to talk after that, but the conversation was mostly similar to what had been said. In the end I left, telling her I would think about it. The way that Ritsuko described it did not make it sound too bad, but for all I knew at the time Ritsuko may have been crazy.

I spent a few more days in Tokyo after that, and then headed back home and back to work.

Over the next few months I started packing things up, sending a lot of stuff back to my place in North America. I got replies from a number of the English schools I had dropped a resume off at. They would give me an interview if I wanted, some even offered to hire me right away. So I was not at a lost for a job.

Still, the position with Mama-san continued to intrigue me.

It paid very well. I was told that I would not have any problems renewing my visa. Ritsuko's description did not sound too bad, after I had a few weeks to think about it. If I really did not like it I could always quit and take a job at one of the English schools.

So, just before the end of June I called the number that Mama-san had given me. I wanted to job.

I must admit, I was feeling rather intrigued by what Ritsuko had told me, and I was kind of looking forward to it. Even if I decided to quit, it would be interesting.

July was very sad. A lot of farewell parties, saying goodbyes, packing everything up. The town had been my home for three years and I was going to miss it. Even the things that I thought I'd never miss I was going to miss. I did not have a lot of time to think of the new job during that time.

Goodbyes, and then a short vacation, and then I was in Tokyo.

Mama-san had arranged an apartment for me, as well as a few other things, so I was all set. A few of the other girls, including Ritsuko, gave me a basic run down on what was expected and what I'd run into. To be truthful I almost quit right then. It seemed rather extreme, but I was just curious enough to go through with it.

The first night was a blur, and I was very self-conscious of the way I was dressed and it was not a good night, but Mama-san had expected that. For the first few weeks I worked on very slow nights, giving me time to get used to it.

By the end of August I was a pro, and had decided to stay.

How can I tell you about the place and my work? Okay, let's just give you an example of a night at work. I'll pick a pretty standard night.

The club is in Shinjuku. I would not be of much use to tell you where it is. Finding it would be difficult, even if you knew where to look. And even if you did find it, the boys would never let you in. The boys, by the way, are members of the Yakuza. Mama-san pays them a protection fee. Pretty standard really. Actually, the Yakuza are nothing like the Mafia, no matter what anyone says. They are pretty decent really. Sure they are criminals, but they are honourable ones.

But back to the story.

The club opens at nine in the evening, we, the girls, show up at about eight. We come up through the back entrance and enter the changing room. So, I showed up at eight exactly. I was the first there that evening.

I undressed at my locker and put my clothes away, a rather stylish dress with a long, beige raincoat. Once naked I closed the locker door and walked over to the shelves on the far wall.

That was when the two hairdressers came in. I never knew their names, but I did not have to. When I had first started working there I was a little embarrassed in walking around and seen naked, but I had got used to it. Mostly.

"Konbanwa Akiko-chan," the older of the hairdressers said.

"Konbanwa Obaasan," I said to her as I reached up onto the shelf for a diaper. They were an institutional green in colour, thickly padded.

"Want some help putting that on?" the younger of the hairdressers said asked me.

"Thank you oneesan, but no," I told her. She always asked me that if she came in while I was getting dressed. I often wonder what she might do if I said yes?

They went to set up while I put the diaper on. I did it while standing, pressing the front of it up to my stomach, then reaching behind me and between my legs, drawing the back part up between my legs. It is easier when someone else puts it on me, but whenever possible I enjoy the dubious dignity of putting them on myself.

With a little work I got the three tapes done up on each side, then readjust the diaper so it fits fairly well. I'm always aware of the thickness between my legs, pushing them apart ever so slightly. Even when standing there I can feel the padding about me, as well as the slightly rough feeling of what is basically paper. It was not really that bad, but different from the silk and cotton panties I normally wear.

From a box on another shelf, a box with my name on it, I remove a bra. Because of the wide variety of bras available Mama-san bought, or more likely had made, matching bras for all of us. They were very simple, white, with a simple pink ribbon between the cups. Juvenile looking really. It almost looked like a training bra, but did not fit like one. Fortunately. I may be only be an A cup, but wearing an actual training bra would have been uncomfortable.

Dressed in my diapers and bra I go to another shelf and look through the diaper covers stacked there. Since the diapers themselves are institutional, the diaper covers are anything but. After looking through them I removed a pink one, with ruffles and a flower print. It was rather pretty really.

I placed the diaper cover on one of the benches then sat down on it. I pulled the cover around me, doing up the snaps in front of it. There was a ribbon that ran around it the waist, like a belt. I tied the ribbon into a bow, pulling the waist opening tight about me.

So now I had my undergarments on, it was time for the rest of the clothing. There is nothing really immature about anything else that we wear. A white blouse and a pink skirt. The skirt has these straps (wide ribbons, a little like suspenders) that go over the shoulders, crossing in back. Actually if the skirt weren't so pink, and so short, I'd wear it outside of work. Actually, I do have a similar skirt, but it is red, and a little longer.

Short as it is, you'd have to be careful not to expose your panties. When you are wearing a diaper and a diaper cover, there is no hiding it, which is the point.

On the night in question I had just put the blouse on and was doing it up when Biko showed up. Most of the girls who work for Mama-san do so because of the money, like me. Biko did it because she enjoyed it. She enjoyed it a lot. She is one of those few people I know who comes off a completely helpless. I don't think she actually is, but who knows.

She came in and walked over to me as I was doing up the buttons on my blouse.

"Akiko-chan," she said, using a diminutive and speaking in a very high voice, "can you help me get dressed?"

I wanted to tell her to do it herself, but she tended to pout and make you feel if you had just kicked a puppy if you were in any way mean to her. I sighed. "Get undressed and I'll help you with the diaper," I told her.

"Okay," she said, smiling.

Biko had taken off her outer clothing by the time I had put on my skirt. She was, not a surprise to me, wearing an absorbent undergarment already. Disposable bedwetting pants, that's what they were called. They had a brand name of Oyasumi. I had her stand up and pulled them off her and tossed them into the garbage, not that she had used them. Then I had her lay down on the padded bench and proceeded to put the diaper on her I taped it up tightly, it was on better than the one I had put on myself, and then I put a diaper cover over it. It had a picture of cute bear on it.

"You take care of the rest," I told her as I turned and walked over to where obaasan and oneesan, the hairdressers, had set up. I guessed that they worked at some salon somewhere during the day. I also guessed for the hour of work they did each night here, they made about the same they did for a day's work at that salon.

I sat down beside the younger one, oneesan.

"So Akiko, should we cut it today?" she asked me smiling. "A short cut would make you look very cute, and younger."

"I think I'll leave it long," I told her, smiling. It was a bit of a running joke she had with me and a few of the other girls. She was right. A short cut would make me look younger, which is why I avoided it. I wore diapers, wasn't that enough?

She took out a brush and ran it through my hair, parted it in the middle, then proceeded to weave it into two braids and the back of my head. She tied each off with a large, pink bow.

I looked at myself in the mirror. As usual the juvenile hairstyle took a few years away from me.

I thanked her and then went and put my lace socks and shoes on, a shiny red pair of mary-janes I suppose.

By this time the changing room was getting busy as the other girls came in and began to get ready. Biko was having her hair styled by obaasan. Her hair was cut short so obaasan tied it into a pair of short, kind of messy, pigtails. She looked adorable.

I waved to Ritsuko as I headed out of the change room. I stopped before leaving; checking myself in the full-length mirror to make sure everything was as Mama-san wanted it. It was. I pushed open the door and walked into the club.

It was, and is, a nice place. A soft, deep pile carpet on the floor in a dark light shade of brown that brought out the colouring in the wooden panels on the wall. Sturdy, yet at the same time graceful furniture filled the room, not so much to be cluttered, but just enough that it did not seem to open.

It looked a little like I thought those gentlemen clubs back in the nineteenth century must have looked. A very warm, rich room.

Surprised? Thought it might be a big nursery or something? Well, if so, I can't blame you. I thought the same thing as well when I first came here. But that is not the look Mama-san was going for. And think about it, in such a room. A young woman dressed in bright clothes, wearing an obvious diaper, kind of stood out. It was all a matter of contrast.

I walked over to the bar, a wonderful piece of darkly stained hardwood with a marble top. Behind it was Ojiisan. That's what we called him. The only man I ever saw in the club. He was blind. It was just so perfect. In this private domain, this women's country, the only man allowed was a blind man.

"Konbanwa ojiisan," I said, picking up a cup of green tea from a tray on the counter.

"Konbanwa Akiko," he replied. He knew us all by just our voices.

I drank the tea, then placed it down on the tray. I looked over at the front door where Mama-san stood, looking over some notes. She was always there when we came into the club, waiting for us.

I went to a closet near the bar and opened it up. Inside was cleaning equipment. I took a dusting cloth and a can of furniture polish. The club did not need to be cleaned, I'm pretty sure that cleaners come in during the day, but before the place opens we clean it. Working together is the important thing, not the actual work.

By the time I had wiped down most of the tables, picking up a little dust in the process, the rest of the girls were out as well, cleaning with me. There were six of us there that night. On nights Mama-san expected things to be really busy there would be ten of us.

It was about ten minutes before the club was to open when we put the cleaning supplies away and then lined up for Mama-san to take a look at us. She walked by us, stopping to adjust a piece of clothing, perhaps brush some hair out of the way. That night she reached down and gave my diaper cover a gentle pull to straighten it.

Once that was done we remained where we were, waiting for the first customers to come it. At nine, exactly, three women walked in. We all bowed to them, welcoming them.

We paired up; I ended up with a woman named Toshimi, not her real name of course. Toshimi was a regular. I saw her most nights I worked. She'd come in when the club opened, stay an hour, maybe two, then leave.

She took me by my hand and led me to one of the tables, sitting down on the bench and then pulling me onto her lap. She bounced me a little, making sure we both knew that a diaper was between my bottom and her legs. Of course while I might be a little on the short and skinny side (I'm not sure if waif might sound better?) she could only keep me on her lap for so long.

Soon I was lying on the bench, my head in her lap, she holding a baby bottle from which I was drinking out of. She had a drink as well. Hers was a glass scotch that probably cost as much as a single bottle. That's the way it is any hostess bars. Terribly expensive. I was drinking a mixture of coffee and water, to give it the colour, with a very little whisky for taste. I wasn't there to get drunk. Of course my bottle, which she was paying for, cost as much as her drink.

In true hostess fashion I have to get her to order as many drinks as possible. To do that, I drink a lot. Toshimi did not mind. She liked feeding (though drinking is a more apt description, though not grammatically correct) me.

Now, with all that water and coffee I was drinking the inevitable had to happen.

When Mama-san hired me she gave me a bunch of videos to watch. The tapes had featured on a bunch of pre-school children, going about their day to day lives, such as they were, in a day care centre of some sort. I was told to watch, and copy as many of the behaviours as possible, and to use them. Being a hostess is about entertaining after all, and we needed a repertoire to work with.

So when I felt the pressure in my bladder build I just did not let it go knowing the diaper could soak up a few heavy wettings without a problem. No, I began to fidget, the 'pee dance' I've heard some describe it. All part of the entertainment I guess you could say.

Toshimi smiled and asked me if I was all right as she took a near empty bottle from my mouth. I told her that I was fine, which was a lie and we both knew it. She shifted me around so I was sitting beside her, then she began to feed me little treats from the bowl on the table.

I continued to fidget, telling Toshimi that everything was fine when she asked me. Just a little game. She was enjoying it more than I, but then again, she is paying for this, so I had to make sure she enjoyed it.

Finally I let it go, feeling the urine splash about a little and run along my skin for a moment before it was absorbed by the padding. I never really liked doing that, it always embarrassed me, but I used that embarrassment as I dropped my eyes and felt my face grow hot with a blush.

"What's the matter Akiko-chan?" Toshimi asked me.

"Nothing Toshimi-oneechama," I said.

"Akiko-chan, did you have an accident?" she asked in a light, carrying voice. She was enjoying it. She always did.

I nodded, getting my lower lip to quiver, as if I was about to cry. It was a nice touch.

"Oh, that's all right Akiko-chan," she said, hitting that 'chan' a little hard. "You're such a little girl after all." The she looked around. "Mama-san," she called out. "Akiko-chan has had an accident," she announced. I flushed even more. It looked as if I was the first to wet herself that night. A dubious honour I'm sure you will admit.

Mama-san walked over to me and held out her hand. I took it and let her pull me up. Toshimi, satisfied, sat back to finish her drink.

Mama-san led me to the changing table. It was kind of hard to get something like a changing table to fit into the decor so Mama had not even tired. At the far wall was a credenza, well, a mock up of one. It was a sturdy piece of furniture, more and enough to hold our weight. I climbed up on it, laying back, raising my hips so I could pull my skirt back and out of the way. Now my diaper was completely exposed, though it is not as if it was hidden before.

Mama-san opens the drawers and takes out the things she needs. The top of the credenza is not padded, so I want this over as quick as possible and raise my hips again. She removed the diaper cover first, placing it into a nearby shoot. It will be dumped into a hamper in the changing room. Then she removed my diaper, un-taping it and pulling it off. It goes into another shoot, that one leads to the garbage.

So now I am partially naked. Sometimes people will gather around to watch us being changed. When I first came to the club my changings drew a crowd. The women there wanted to see if my red-hair was natural.

While I suppose it would have been easier if I had shaved my pubic hair, Mama-san did not want that. She did not want us to look too young. The last thing she wanted was for her customers to start feeling uncomfortable. They might have liked us looking young, but they had no desire to be snuggling up to children.

Mama-san quickly cleaned me up with a baby-wipe, then put me into a new diaper, taping it up tightly. This is how I know that a diaper fits better if someone else puts it on. Mama-san is the only person who diapers me. She changes us when we need it, and only her. Some of her customers would love the chance to do it, but Mama-san will not let them. She is in charge of us, and no one would forget that.

Next she produced a new diaper cover. This one was brand new, a white that almost glowed. And it was a little tight. Not uncomfortably tight, but tight enough to clearly define the diaper. No ties on it either, Just eight snap-fasteners on the front the cracked with their newness as she snapped them close.

Changed, I got off the credenza and was taken back to Toshimi.

Toshimi did not stay long after that. Once she left I got up, planning on going over to sit with Biko, who was with Natsumi and Satsumi. Oh, just in case you are wondering, all of the hostesses' names end in 'ko' which means, child. The customers names end in 'mi' which means beautiful. Getting a 'ko' with a 'chan' is kind of like a double barrel blast of diminutives.

Before I could join them (I liked Satsumi, she was there to talk about her problems, and it was fun to make her feel better) Mama-san waved me to the bar. Obviously she wanted me to be free in case anyone else came in. Or she knew someone was coming in.

So I went to the bar and sat down at it. Ojiisan put a glass of water in front of me. While I did not need to drink from a bottle, I still had to hold the glass with two hands. Maintain the illusion, as Mama-san said. I drank it even though I was not thirsty. We have to keep ourselves properly hydrated if we are going to wet enough.

About a minute later a newcomer came into the club. Mama-san welcomed her. I had to keep myself from cringing on the sight of her.

Chisami is, well, how to describe her? Some people might say she was ugly, but that's not really true. She is, for the most part, a rather handsome woman. She is big though. Real big. At this time Japan had started pushing sumo wrestling for women. If it was going to be a demonstration sport in the two thousand olympics, they had to ensure that women could participate.

Chisami looked as if she was interested in being on the olympic team. She was tall, over two meters, and large. She looked fat, but under that generous layer of fat were muscles. Big muscles. The way she moved, there was a grace to it that you would not have expected.

She looked about, her eyes coming to rest on me where I was sitting alone at the bar. 'Thanks Mama-san,' I thought. I could have been safely sitting with Biko and the others, but now I was going to spend time with Chisami. I was not looking forward to it.

She walked over to the bar and grabbed my arm, then, with almost no effort, picked me up as if I was a little child. I did not like the feeling of being carried by this woman, of being in her arms. I was, truth be told, a little afraid of her. I got the feeling, and was not alone in this, that Chisami would have liked to hurt me, or any of the other girls, if she could.

This big woman was afraid, or at least wary, of Mama-san. She followed Mama-san's rules, though she skirted them on many occasions.

She put me down by the table she had chosen, then reached behind me and gave my diaper a squeeze, checking to see if I was dry. It gave her a chance to put her hands on me in a way that Mama-san allowed. Then she picked me up again and took a seat, putting me on her lap. Unlike Toshimi, Chisami can easily keep me on her lap.

She called out for a drink, and one for me as well. As soon as both her glass and my bottle were placed on the table she shifted me around so I was partially lying on her lap. This made it easy for her to use the bottle. Now we were in for a fun game. Well, fun for her I guess.

She did not drink much herself, but she kept ordering drinks for me, making me drink them. I don't think Mama-san cared much for what Chisami did, but it was not enough for her to ask the big woman to leave.

After my second bottle, in fairly rapid succession, I felt the pressure in my bladder build and began the pee dance. It was the same as with Toshimi, but when I finally let go, wetting my diaper, Chisami did not call for Mama-san to change me. She put her hand over my diaper cover, pushing down on it, just enough to feel it grow warm, and to push the damp padding tight against my skin.

Then, smiling, she called for another bottle.

She stayed for almost four hours. I drank so much that I felt bloated, and I felt as if I was swimming in my diaper. And still Chisami held me, bouncing me on her knee when she saw I had to pee, just to make it worse.

I have a theory that Chisami is hoping that one of these days, if she holds one of us long enough, that we'll soil our diapers. Her way of humiliating one of us completely. I can't think of anything worse than sitting on this woman's lap while I had to shit my diaper.

Okay, I can think of worse things, but not in context of the club.

Usually I don't have a bowel movement while at the club, but at those times when I have to, I go to Mama-san and ask to use the potty. It's part of the entertainment. She says yes, and then I go into the change room to use the toilet and take a short break. Most of the girls use the potty excuse at least once a night to get a break.

I'd have done it with Chisami, but we are not allowed to leave our customers. That's what Chisami's plan hinges on.

Well that night, finally, Chisami decided to call it a night. She suddenly pushed me off her lap as she stood. I managed to keep my balance. "Mama-san," she called out in a loud voice. "You should change this girl, she stinks." Then she turned and walked away. I felt so embarrassed.

Mama-san looked at me, then used her head to indicate the change room door. He knew how soaked my diaper would be and did not plan to change it there. So I went into the change room, took of my shoes, and then stepped into the shower stall and began to remove my diaper.

When I took of the cover a small trickle of urine ran down my legs and stained my socks. I cursed softly for being so stupid as to not take them off, and then I attacked the tapes that held the soaking, sagging diaper around my hips. It fell from me to land between my legs with a wet 'squish'. The thing was absolutely saturated with my urine.

I took of my socks, then got a plastic bag into which I put the wet diaper before throwing it into the trash. The socks went into the dirty laundry hamper and I then washed my legs clean.

Once I had a new diaper and diaper cover on I went back out into the club.

I spent the rest of the night, what little there was left, with Emi. Emi was all right. She just held me, and stroked my hair while I nursed on a bottle, and told me about her daughter who she always fought with. Therapist in a diaper, that's me I guess.

Then Mama-san began ushering the patrons out of the club as she closed down. Once the last one was out we began to clean the place up a little, working together again. We only spend about ten minutes at it; just enough to straighten everything up a little. Then we head into the change room. Diapers come off, mine was wet but I kept that from Emi. She would not have minded.

There is only one shower stall, so showers are not really an option. We make do with quick sponge baths, perhaps a little ointment and baby powder, then back into wonderful panties. Ah, the feel of the silk as it slides over places so recently trapped within a diaper. Luxury.

Then the six of us file out the back way, dressed like just a group of young women heading out to club. Of course all but a very few clubs are closed by now. Sometimes we go out to hit one of those after hours places, but not that night.

We head around to the side of the building where we can get a taxi-Mama-san, or maybe the boys arrange so that they are around, even at such a late hour.

Back at my small apartment I strip down then put on a large, white shirt. I collapse to my futon, exhausted.

I'll get up at maybe eleven or twelve, shower, get dressed, and go out and have some fun. The usual.

It's not bad work. Mama-san only has the place open five out of every seven days, and I only work three or four of those days. It gives me a lot of time to do other stuff, like practice kyudou (archery) or kendou.

Now why do I have such work in the first place?

Good question. The other girls and I have often talked about it. I mean, this is not something you'd ever think of, right?

Himiko thinks that this is revenge based. The women enjoy seeing the daughters, well, granddaughters really, of those who conquered them in WWII serving them, in such a humiliating way. Himiko really does not like Japan, or the Japanese, and is here for the money and nothing else. I take any thing she says with a grain of salt.

After talking to Ritsuko, and a few others, here is what I think.

In Japan, women still get treated in sexist ways. It is changing, but not terribly fast. Office ladies still serve tea to their male counterparts, and people still talk about woman as being Christmas Cake, no one wants it after the 25th. A number of women really don't like it.

I guess Mama-san picked up on that and decided to set up a place where women could feel in charge. She chose other women for hostesses because she did not want it to be about sex, or maybe she just did not want any men in her establishment. Women country, as I called it.

Now, she needed her patrons to feel in charge, so her hostesses were going to have to be in some obviously subservient position. I suppose we could have been dressed like slave girls, or in office ladies uniforms, or sporting ears and tails and wearing collars-perhaps less embarrassing than diapers. What Mama-san chose were diapers.

But why foreigners? Is Himiko right and they want to see the daughters of the Western world laid low in their wet diapers? Maybe, but I kind of doubt it. If Mama-san were choosing Japanese girls to do this, there would be a chance that the patrons and customers might know each other. Can you think of anything more embarrassing than finding the diapered girl you've been bottle-feeding and leering at is the daughter of your best friend?

We're, for the most part, safe.

For the most part, the night I described above it pretty common. That night was fortunate that there was very little Karoke. Karaoke in the club usually means the patrons will pick a song for us to sing; though they often sing as well, especially after getting a few drinks down. When they pick something for us it is usually immature, the kind of thing I think that a six-year old would feel embarrassed singing.

Yep, standing in the middle of the club, working your way though a song that often requires lisping to sound right, wearing your diaper. What fun, not embarrassing at all.

And sometimes we end up with different uniforms. Schoolgirl outfits, stewardess uniforms, a few times a police uniform, all with very short skirts. It all adds a little spice, and I think it makes us look like little girls playing dress up. Still, it is not as bad as T-shirt night.

What is T-shirt night you ask? Well, I'm glad you did.

Basically, Mama-san announces this about a week in advance, and gets the number of patrons who are attending. Then on that night there is exactly that number of girls there. Each patron gets a T-shirt, buys them, has them made, whatever, and comes to the club with it.

Then they bid on us, to see who is going to wear which shirt. Sometimes it goes as high as one hundred thousand yen. Then the shirt is handed into the change room and the lucky girl puts it on before going out to spend the rest of the night with the bidder. T-shirt, a diaper, and the shoes. That is it. And its not like these are just plain, white T-shirts. No, they are often exceedingly cute, to the point of causing diabetes or cavities. Pink, with little kittens, or maybe the word baby written on it, and of course they are not long enough to cover the diaper in anyway.

Thankfully this does not occur too often.

I should not make it all sound so bad. Sometimes it could be a lot of fun, especially if no one like Chisami shows up. And there was a special person who made it a little more fun.

Akemi-san, well, that was not her real name of course, but what did it matter. She was so beautiful, and smart, and funny, and confident. I always enjoyed it when she came to the club. She also liked me, or so I thought at the time. While Mama-san frowned on the idea favourites, she could not really stop it. She just made sure that we all, the hostesses and the patrons, kept the confidentiality of the club in mind.

I enjoyed spending time with Akemi. Oh, she did not treat me that much differently from the other patrons, happily calling attention to the diapers I wore, and making me drink from a bottle until I wet myself. With her it was not so bad though, because I knew she liked me.

So, in February, when I learned she wanted to take a trip with me, I was thrilled. Of course Mama-san did not like that, but she was willing to give me the time off. Of course she told me to remember that I still had to maintain confidentiality. I suspect that she told Akemi the same thing.

We met at the hotel at the central station. She had a room for us, we'd be leaving the next morning. I did not know where we were going, but she assured me that I'd enjoy the trip.

Soon after we were settled in the room Akemi made the first move. I let her. Soon after we were in the bed, making love. It was most enjoyable. And it was probably because of that that I allowed things to happen as they did.

The next morning she presented me with the first surprise. A schoolgirl uniform. I would be travelling as her ward, godchild I guess. Had it not been for the love making of the night before I might have said no. As it was I put the uniform on, which fit very well.

We left the hotel and boarded the bullet train North. We spoke in English. Akemi had told me to pretend that I could not speak Japanese. I was not sure why, but went along with it. We got off the shinkansen at Kyoto and continued on to Nara, where we were going, on the Kinki Nippon line. I had always wanted to visit Nara, so I was quite excited. The scenery is really beautiful and I was entranced as we made our way to the ancient capital.

We actually weren't going to stay in Nara, but in an Inn some distance from the city, in the mountains. Akemi told me that there were many hot springs there and that the Inn was very beautiful.

It was probably because I was so looking forward to getting there that I was not paying much attention and as a result, when Akemi arranged for me to sit in a puddle of water, I was taken by surprise. She laughed and continued to the Inn. I followed, with the seat of my skirt soaked.

Then when we arrived Akemi told the staff that her ward had had and accident and asked if the arrangements had been made. The arrangements, as it turned out, was a room with diapers waiting. I wanted to scream at Akemi for doing this to me, but I did not want to make a scene.

For the four days we spent there I was basically treated like a small child by the staff. After all, I could not speak Japanese, and was still suffering from the loss of my parents. And Akemi let the maids take care of me more than once. Having a young woman changing my diapers as she talked to her friend about me was very embarrassing. You couldn't get that kind of service in North America. Normally that is something I'd be happy about.

I might have left, if not for the nights with Akemi. They were quite enjoyable. I somehow convinced myself that Akemi did care for me, as a person, and not just some young looking woman wearing a diaper. I did not realise the truth, that she just liked playing with me like a doll, until we were heading back to Tokyo.

She did not let me sit near her on any of the trains, ignored me the entire way back. I suppose I could have chalked it up to that confidentiality thing, but I doubted it. Plus, a minor case of diaper rash was bugging the hell out of me.

I did not stop in Tokyo, but continued up North to my old School, using the last few days of my vacation to see some friends.

It was then that I got a good view, from the outside as it were, of my life. It was not bad mind you, but no one really cared for me, beyond some mostly superficial friendships with some of the other hostesses. It kind of gave me a stark, hard view of my so-called 'relationship' with Akemi. Pretty empty really.

I went back to the Club of course, it was still a job, and continued as I had before. I tired not to act cold towards Akemi, but I might have failed, not that she noticed. Now that I was not seeing her though love-sick eyes, her treatment of me in the club did not seem much better than any of the other patrons.

So when the school I had applied to all those months ago got in touch with me, telling me the new school year would start soon, and asking me if I was still interested in the job, I said I was.

A few interviews later and I had the job. As soon as I knew for sure I told Mama-san I would be leaving. She did not seem to be overly concerned. I had been a good employee, but she could, with a little work, replace me.

None of the Patrons knew that my last night was that. The other girls did, and after the club was closed we changed back into our 'adult' clothes and had a short party in the club.

And that was it.

I recently started working at the school, and it is just like my other school, more or less. I enjoy the work very much.

I saw Ritsuko-san once, but we did not talk. What were we going to say? 'How's the diaper wearing thing going?' and 'Has Chisami made anyone soil their diapers yet?'?

Now that I have an eight to five, or six job, I don't keep the hours that are conducive to me running into any of the other girls.

I've passed through the area where the club is a few times when I've been in Shinjuku, but I've never felt the urge to go and take a look. It's a part of my past now, and I think it will stay that way.

My days of wearing diapers are over.

Well...

Recently it occurred to me that, seeing as my picture has been taken for my Gaijin Card, and is on file with the government, it might not be too hard to find Akiko. Someone with the right connections, maybe a little money, could find out who I really was without too much trouble, and where I am.

I don't know why I am thinking something like that. It's not like anyone is going to be trying to find me, right.

Right?