Author's Note:

This chapter, no this entire story, is dedicated to Destiny. If there ever was a person who could deserve to have this monolithic achievement, a whopping 54,300+ words, dedicated in their honor it is she. She was one of the first people to critique the story, and soon, when we fell in love, she was my greatest inspiration to continue writing it.

If you like my works, if you love my works, or any part of them, thank her. She is my everything. She is my dark, diapered, bespectacled, emo, Lolita, plushie, perfect kitten. She is the reason and fire in my passion and desire. Nothing can compare to the "get up and go" she has added to everything I do. This is for you, love. Enjoy!

Wow, this has been a hell of a ride. I've NEVER experienced something like this before Karma and Repentance. All of the ups and downs, the false starts and stops, all of the losses and wins, all of your comments and praise, all of your hits, everything has kept me going. Thank you my fans, thank you my critics and my naysayer, thank you to everyone who helped in any way, even the most minute.

Chapter 18: Afterglow

From the foggy, hazy, effervescent malaise of the comatose, Orihime perceived little from the world around her. There was the sensation of being lifted from the pavement, the echoes of footsteps bounding upon rooftops. It must have been Matsumoto cradling her, comical as it would have been for shorter Rukia or Hinamori to attempt carrying Inoue from house to house on their way home. There was the din of nothingness; that ring, in the sleep-paralysis of exhaustion that covered Orihime. Finally, warm invaded her body, and she fell from semi-consciousness to earnest sleep, something inside telling her it was safe at last.

There was the briefest of intermissions, indicating it was more shock than fatigue, which had swamped Orihime in the wake of their harrowing battle. Still, as the eyes opened, closing immediately to shield from the glaring brilliance of the interior, Orihime did not yet know if she wanted to wake up. Now that Matsumoto had returned, many things were sure to change. Of course, she could not harbor two shinigami for as she had been, any longer, and that meant parting with the "babies" with whom she'd spent so much time. The return of boredom, and loneliness…it was a grim prospect to say the very least.

However, if she stood in that "slumber" any longer, she was sure she would awake to any empty house anyway. If there were goodbyes to be said, it was best they be said post-haste so that the chance to do so would not pass her bye. That would be the epitome of despair. What mother wants to miss the chance to watch her children leave the nest? None that cares, at least as far as Orihime was concerned, and she cared, she definitely cared!

"Good morning, everyone…" Orihime mouthed with sleepy sighs between her words, the ocular faculties straining against the light with which they were assaulted.

"Well, good to see you're awake, sleepyhead," dripped in syrup, the voice of Matsumoto slipped into the ear and reassured everything, with a motherly tone that even Orihime could not hopingly manage.

From the blurry dim Inoue could make out Matsumoto, knelt at her feet, observing with careful glance. Her gigai was lavishly embellished, much to Rangiku's own style. A woven aquamarine blouse did it's best to cover the large family inheritance upon Matsumoto's bosom. Form-fitting capris adorned her hips and thighs, ending above the calf, showing off even the delicate structure of Matsumoto's feet. Everything about her was stereotypically motherly, more enhanced than Orihime. Her shape and appearance stressed and strained a variety of motherhood, even if she was consciously unaware.

The room was bathed in an eerie mid-evening light, the lights were not all illuminated, as Orihime always had them, so the half-luminance created a multitude of shadows and dreary atmosphere. The chill that shook Orihime's spine was, no doubt, caused by the shade. However, lifting that depression a tad were the forms that were reclining in various spots around the room. Hinamori and Rukia were still there, looking incredibly relieved as it were.

"Thank goodness!" came a shrill cry, as a body bounced through the air and clamped around Orihime's waist with the power of a vice. "I was so worried when you collapsed, Mom…..Miss Orihime!"

Hinamori wearily held as tight as she could. Her body twisted in such a manner that it heaped her clothes in every which way, throwing every bit forward, this included the skirt. Orihime was shocked, it seemed as though nothing had been extensively changed, including Hinamori. Around her backside, the puffy whiteness protruded, along with the sogginess that had claimed the padding before they had left earlier that day.

"How…how long have I been asleep?" ventured the shy question from Inoue, whose voice held a bit of apprehension Matsumoto was in full view of this spectacle, saying nothing.

"Hmmm, about an hour, I wouldn't say any more…" Matsumoto reckoned, a finger touching to the mole on her cheek, a sign of her pensive contemplation of the matter.

"I'm very much relieved that you're better!" Hinamori whimpered, tears already growing in her eyes, not holding anything back now.

"Come now, there is no need for that much emotion, I'm quite all right," Orihime folded Hinamori into her lap, soothing her as she did.

A hand tried to brush the skirt down, back around Hinamori's back, but Orihime just couldn't manage it, not there was any way to hide it now, not that Hinamori seemed to care. Rukia managed to wiggle to her knees and get closer; the much unhidden crinkle signified that even Rukia had been too preoccupied in the wake of their fight to "redignify" her gigai. Maybe there were more important things than silly undergarments.

"It is a reason to get emotional. You saved us, the both of us…all by yourself too…" Rukia began to lower her voice at the tail end; her pride making outwardly admitting that neither could have possible done what Orihime had impossible.

"No, it was nothing…really," Orihime maintained, trying not to discourage them, knowing their pride had taken a considerable beating as it is.

"You're wrong," Matsumoto was stern, and placid, the ocean reverberated in the stillness but power of that voice. "You did something that not many shinigami could even do. You defeated a numeros level Arrancar. You should be proud!"

Matsumoto's voice grew in elation at the last of her words, and her cheeks regained their rosy sheen. She threw herself forward and held onto Orihime alongside Hinamori, running her fingers along Inoue's sides in a furious tapping movement, tickling furiously as she did whenever someone was down, whether or not they approved of it. Her transition from stern to comical was indeed marvelously quick.

"Come on! Big smiles! You too, Rukia come here and join in!" Matsumoto reigned Rukia in with a big hug, as Rukia's face displayed denigration and displeasure of the highest order only to melt into conjoined happiness after a moment of trepidation.

"I'm so glad to have friends like you guys," Orihime wheezed, squeezing in every direction she could manage.

Orihime gave her every being in the embrace, hugging each one of them as best she could, being squashed, and nigh suffocated by Matsumoto's lusciously sized bosom. Rangiku took the wheezing and coughs from below her as sign to vacate the already densely occupied cubic foot of the room for spaces more vacant.

With a flick of the wrist, tossing back copious curls from her shoulder, Matsumoto inspected the scene before her. Something, even to her eye, was out of place in this…she could not place her finger on it. She scooted a tad closer and inspected each and every one of them.

"Umm…is something wrong, Miss Matsumoto?" Orihime tentatively questioned, feeling a bit uneasy, sensing the same thing that Rangiku herself sensed.

After just another moment or two of looking upon them she was became aware of what was not "normal." Rangiku's fingers wiggled a bit, straightening her pointer and pushing it starkly against upon a certain body whose hind was thrust into the air as she continued to embrace her surrogate mother. The poking lasted three or four quizzical seconds before Hinamori became aware of it.

"I've never seen these kind of living world panties before….what are they…they sure are thick, not very flattering, unless of course you're trying to augment something you don't have." She continued to pester with Hinamori's pride until her hand shot back and covered the padding with her skirt.

"Nothing, just panties, normal everyday ones, yep!" Hinamori shot back, curling closer to Orihime, hoping to escape Matsumoto's investigation, sitting upon Inoue's lap, and shielding her middle from provocation.

"Okaaaay…" Rangiku responded, looking back at Rukia with a feline smile.

To this, Rukia did but quiver a bit, unnerved as it was. Matsumoto, however, was not convinced and took to sitting closer to the three of them, but not upon them as it had been, not wanting to asphyxiate them in her quest to learn more. Her hands shot out rather abruptly, catching Hinamori in a ticklish death grip, pushing her fingers into ribs, and beneath the arms, forcing Hinamori to loose her hold on Orihime, falling to the floor and wiggling about like a helpless babe.

"Shtop, stop!" she mouthed and mewed adorably, writhing till her skirt had risen just the right height.

"All right," Matsumoto resigned, sitting back up, using that bewilderment to examine the "panties" on Hinamori with a bit more scrutiny.

There was first to note the tapes, that which was unseen from the back view. This perplexed Rangiku. Why would you need to tape panties on? Then there was the fact that an entire bit of it was yellowed, as though stained, but it did not really seem stained as it seemed absorbed. Wracking her scatterbrain, Rangiku plodded through her memory of something she was sure was very much like this type of panties. Hinamori, huffing and puffing from all the excitement, remained unaware of Matsumoto's deep though. The other two disregarded it as well; for Matsumoto's "thinking face" more resembled someone off in a daydream than in thought.

"Aha!" was the cry; Matsumoto sprung from her knees and knelt over Hinamori with the lithe of a lioness. "Hinamori is pretending to be a baby!" she deduced, poking and prodding her now. "I've figured it out, all the slips at calling Orihime "mommy" and the fact that these are not panties at all!"

No one was impressed, they all regarded Matsumoto with queer enterprise.

"Way off…" Orihime said with a glimmering grin.

"Yep, miles," Rukia added with nonchalance and a bit of her own vocal cynicism.

"Uhh, then I got nothing, why is she wearing diapers?" Matsumoto questioned, poking and tickling Hinamori just for the fun of it now, Hinamori didn't protest this time, she was worried enough to allow this to proceed.

"The hollow was a poisonous, it did more than just poison the soul, the infection defected her gigai and caused it to…well among other things, void it's bladder at very unfortunate times, so under my care I asked her to wear the diapers so that caring for her would be a simpler process…" Orihime took a breath and glanced floor-ward at her little one, who nodded vehemently in accordance with this explanation.

"Oh, well that's totally different. Sorry for any undue embarrassment, Momo, wearing diapers in a situation like that is perfectly understandable. Though my explanation was a lot cuter, eh Rukia?" Rangiku nudged Rukia as she had a private titter to herself, imagining Orihime as a mommy, cradling Hinamori in a vision not so far from reality.

"Err, yeah, sure was," Rukia uneasily answered, closing the gap between her knees as best she could, the padding making it impossible despite the fact it was impossible to see her own diaper from under the skirt at that angle.

Remembering something obviously quite important, Rangiku needled on her knees to Orihime, and whispered gentle into her ear "Seems like Momo needs a change, though…" she nodded to herself afterwards.

"Well then, we will have to take care of that, won't we?" Orihime responded, not even needing to address Hinamori for her to blush intensely, knowing what that tone of voice meant.

Already standing, something inside of Orihime had clicked, she was once more the mother figuring, scurrying across the room getting everything prepared. She'd totally forgotten everything else. In her head, there was a job to be done and there was nothing else. She'd knelt before the diaper package and was already dissecting it, removing a fresh diaper from it, gathering her supplies. When all was ready, she pointed at the kitchen.

"All unneeded guests should grant Hinamori privacy now!" she announced, pointing, with an extra wiggle of the index, towards her kitchen.

Rangiku stood and meandered into the kitchen, Rukia sat firm.

"Rukia, is there something you need?" Orihime asked, not yet beginning the process of changing, to save Hinamori some dignity.

"What am…I…supposed to do about…you know…" Rukia whispered, her eyes falling to her lap, as low as she could, her gazing jumping from Orihime, to Rangiku's posterior, as she perambulated into the kitchen.

"Are you wet?" bluntly came Orihime.

"I…no…err…ummmm" Rukia paused, her hands collapsed into her lap, folding upon each other over and over; she turned a puce to rival Hinamori in the throes of being tickled, "…when we were waiting for you to wake up….I….yes,"

"Yes what?' Orihime asked, unfolding Hinamori's diaper in preparation.

Guests or not, it seemed that Inoue had not forgotten about Rukia's punishment at all. Rukia lost all semblance of calmness; she wiggled extensively. Her redness had not abated, if anything it had worsened.

"I'm…you know…wet…" Rukia mouthed the last word, forbidden to say it by the deepest measures of her pride.

One hand pushed tightly to the borrowed skirt, and the other rubbed the suppressing arm, as if bracing it against impact and tension.

"Well then, you'll have to lie down and get changed with Hinamori, I don't think there is a reason to send you out then," Orihime said quite hush, "you're still my baby for the time being," she added.

Not liking the idea of being changed with Rangiku right there in the other room, Rukia considered the alternative. And Orihime's words drove that to home quite nicely. It was apparent that Orihime was still the dominate force here, and a diaper change was a lot quieter than a spanking, so to opt for the former would most likely save her from the latter. She laid down, without much more internal debate on that matter.

Orihime was lost with words; Hinamori was mute, so the changing began. Peeling the tapes from their home against the plastic of the thickness, Orihime worked each crackle, four of them and finally released the front from the sides, letting the soggy material fall forward.

The cool breeze caught Hinamori suddenly; she mewed with quiet surprise, elating Orihime who'd grown fond of those little reactions with each change. Her hands were quite precise now. Wipes and Hinamori's body were familiarized, so the cool, damp sensation was more soothing and reassuring than anything else could be at this point. She turned her head towards Rukia's for a moment, getting a look of approval from Rukia, who had scarlet doused upon her cheeks.

Removal of the thoroughly soaked diaper was done, and before her bare bottom could even touch the carpeting, the fresh one was already betwixt her knees, ready to be taped, but not just yet. A fine snowfall of powder covered her bare loins, smoothed in with gracious and gentle fingers, making sure to touch only where it was appropriate. Still the color upon Hinamori's visage darkened still to the maximum possible if not beyond even that threshold.

With the folding of the opaque, pallid padding, there were four more tape crackles, and the deed was done. To perfect this treatment, Hinamori received a motherly kiss to the forehead as Orihime clasped a hand around her torso and righted her into a sitting position, readjusting the skirt to cover the diaper with expertise she could have only gained through the week's tried and true practice. With the ordeal over with, Hinamori breathed a deep sigh of relief. Orihime had already departed, intent on getting the second change done as quickly a possible, knowing Rukia's pride was nowhere near as resilient as Hinamori's, who had acclimated to this treatment.

"All right, all done, now…" Orihime was cut off drastically…

"Done? Does that mean I can come back in?"

Matsumoto ignored the good sense to ask her question without leaving the confines of the kitchen, she traipsed right in just as Orihime had shoved all of the denim skirt up into a bunch around Rukia's legs, exposing the mussed and soppy bunting between Rukia's knees.

"No, no, go back in!" Rukia screamed with fervent might, all too late.

Her hands tried to force the skirt down more, but it was all in vain, Matsumoto had already formed that gossipy beam, and the thrilled blush crept across her dimpled cheeks.

"Oh my, I understand Hinamori, but why is Rukia all pampered as well?" asked Rangiku, plopping her endowed rear upon the beanbag chair, despairing over the fact that popcorn was nowhere in sight, for this explanation seemed as though it would be much more poignant.

Relinquished from around Rukia's waist, Orihime lowered the skirt and sat Rukia upright. There was a moment where Rukia scrambled to her feet, Orihime followed.

Into her ear she could only whisper, "don't worry, you don't need a change," then there was facing Matsumoto.

There was a small pat to Rukia's backside. Her eyes turned into globes of shock, her face filled to the brim with blood. An indignant look of reprisal covered her, but she slowly waddled to the table and sat down. Orihime sat at the other side of the table, her eyes on Matsumoto.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Orihime inquired, her view shifting clockwise from Rukia, to Rangiku to Momo, and then back to Rukia.

"How did all of this come to be with Rukia, you have got to tell me how Miss Kuchiki managed to land herself into your care as well!" this was all said in the most trying babyish lisp one could imagine, if only because Rangiku had a thing for being nosy in an echelon all to herself.

"Do I tell it, or do you want to hear it from Rukia?" Inoue was careful to protect Rukia's dignity for the time being.

"You…should tell her Miss Orihime…" Rukia subserviently, and shyly, muttered, her focus was on a particularly interesting knot of wood in the grain of the table.

A deep breath was really the only preparation that could be taken for what was, indeed, a long explanation of sorts. Orihime fixed her hair and her shirt, making sure she was entirely comfortable before even taking her eyes to Matsumoto. When more than appropriate time was wasted on pandering around, Orihime lifted her chin.

"All right, it's not the simplest story, but it begins the other day, the day Rukia returned early from the convention in Soul Society. Hinamori was already in my care a good three days by then, but I was unable to think of a way to validate her being here. So on her own volition; she hid under the covers, pretending to be a lump of bed linens. Miss Kuchiki proceeded to sit down and have a drink with me. One thing led to another and we began a board game, I was desperately searching for a way to address Hinamori's presence. Nothing came to me,"

Orihime paused; she was beginning to tap her digits against her thighs nervously, already.

"Then what?" Rangiku demanded, on the edge of her seat as the drama unfolded.

"That was when…..things took a turn for the worse…"

"I got a leg cramp," Hinamori chimed in, feeling she should elaborate on her own problems. "It hurt so bad, couldn't help but cry out for Orihime. I had grown used to her care,"

"Mmhm, what happened after that?" Matsumoto was deeply engrossed now, hoping that something epic was about to occur, Orihime figured she would be disappointed.

"I noticed Hinamori was there…and couldn't help but poke fun at her predicament," Rukia admitted, all heads turning to her for the moment.

"I reacted to her provocation in a manner befitting my current state of dress," Hinamori guiltily added.

Taking the reigns of the conversation once more, Orihime explained, "That was when the two of them had a little fight, if you could call it that, considering Hinamori's state. The whole situation was caused by Rukia's childish behavior in regards to a sick comrade. I detained the both of them and decided on the best course of action for dealing with bratty children, taking into account how they both had acted," Orihime added a pounding motion of her hand to the end of her explanation for emphasis.

"Ooh, what did you do to them?" Matsumoto requested with devilish delight in her tone.

"When I was little…and sometimes a bit of a brat myself, my brother would spank me, if I was really bad, he'd use my hairbrush. I never did what I was punished for twice," Orihime giggled fretfully, not knowing how Rangiku would react to this.

"No…you didn't!" Matsumoto gleefully exclaimed, her laugh a bit sadistic in intonation.

"Yes, I punished Rukia, and then Hinamori befittingly for their transgressions." Orihime shakily put forth, placing open palms against her thighs, looking to the space between her folded knees.

"Aww, poor babies!" Matsumoto annotated; her giggles and titters filled the room with a queer air that was somewhere saddled between creepy and lighthearted.

"I thought that Rukia would be bettered by a little time in Hinamori's shoes, so I took the liberty of…umm…diapering her…" Orihime trailed off, thinking it was more than apparent now, what had happened.

"So, you're saying you captured, and punished Rukia, as well as treating Hinamori without making an effort to tell anyone?" Rangiku noted, placing her hands on her hips, looking a bit reproachfully at Inoue, the stare summoning the chill of an iceberg.

"I…well….yes," She didn't want to hide it, especially in front of Rangiku, whose stare bathed her in frigidness.

"What would have happened if you had not been able to stabilize Hinamori?" Matsumoto was following a train of though she'd waited quite a bit to address, if only to make sure that Inoue had recovered from her lapse earlier.

"I…don't know…" Orihime could only stammer, like a child, not ready for this line of questioning.

"So you admit what you did was irrational?" there was no turning back now, facing Orihime with the obvious childishness of her actions was necessary, "Sick people, especially shinigami, are not dollies to play mommy with, Miss Orihime."

More and more this was sounding like a trial rather than a discussion. Even Momo and Rukia looked considerably stressed and uncomfortable. Orihime's legs slipped out from under her bottom and were pinched to her chest; her distraught, lined face seemed terribly anguished.

"I didn't know what I was doing…I just thought I was doing what was right…" the shaking in Inoue's voice was the precursor to tears.

"Hey, Matsumoto, Orihime took really good care of me, there is no reason to be mad at her!" Hinamori interrupted indignantly.

"No, Hinamori, Miss Matsumoto is right, I messed up big time…" Orihime continued to fade at the end of her sentences, all of her might, visibly, directed into the strenuous ordeal of, holding back tears.

"I think it's time for babies to take a bath," said Rangiku, sternly.

"All right," Momo subserviently mewled, heading into the bathroom without another word.

Rukia was not so compliant.

"What?! Together?!" Rukia protested, as she was hoisted from her seat, the cascade of crinkles following her as she was forced into the bathroom.

The door was shut, and Rangiku made sure neither was going to waltz out before she was through with Orihime. Her placid step signified a mood much less abrasive than the one with which she had just scolded Inoue. Inoue turned not around to greet Matsumoto, and was taken particularly by the warmth and plushness of Matsumoto's front as it took hold of her, hands forming a bow around her midsection.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I've been so bad, please don't be mad at me anymore, Miss Matsumoto," Orihime stressed apologetically, still managing to keep from bawling, erratically hiccupping, slurring her speech.

Matsumoto's hands closed tighter, nigh on bonding her to Orihime's back, she reassured, "It's all right, as long as you know you were wrong…" Matsumoto did not get to finish.

"No, it's not all right, even if I know I was wrong, if something had happened it would have been my fault, not to mention how I totally disregarded Rukia's feelings and dignity in my motherly delusions!" Orihime was at a point of fevered anguish, little could calm her down now.

"If it's not all right…then what do we have to do to make it right?

"I don't think I know what is right, Miss Matsumoto," Orihime sniffled.

"No, I think you were on to something all along," the gears in Matsumoto's brain were grinding already.

Even with that jumbled head of hers, Orihime was not out of touch enough to fail Matsumoto's so familiar logic. Two daydreamers shared thoughts as few could, especially be it with Matsumoto or Orihime. Inoue's tear swelled eyes gandered upon Rangiku as she leaned her head backwards to confirm her notions. Matsumoto nodded, her lips pursed into a consoling kissy-face.

"You're not doing this because you're going to enjoy it…are you?" Orihime whined.

"You're not doing this because you're going to enjoy it, are you?" Matsumoto winked, her cheeks lifting high.

With resound, a congenial amusement was shared between the two of them, even as Matsumoto was slipping her feet beneath Orihime's backside. That sensation of toes pushing against her rear perked Orihime, who raised her behind off the ground, allowed Rangiku to position herself in a comfortable cross-legged position upon the floor. Not knowing whether to move herself or not, Orihime simply settled back into Rangiku's grasp.

"We're going to have to take this slowly, I'm not exactly used to 'punishment,'" Matsumoto dragged a single finger down Orihime's spine, causing shivers and shakes in its wake, "Someone with a little more experience might have to run me through what to do,"

Orihime's next breath included a moment of swallowing hard, nerve-wracked anxiety tingled into her veins, traveling into her core, causing the butterflies to take flight. The only easing factor to this was that her wards in the bath would not witness their "mother's" punishment. Orihime knelt, hands and knees, hovering over Matsumoto's pretzel shaped lap. The wide, inviting hips she rested herself on were definitely softer than her own; arms folded upon themselves to form a rest to prevent her face from getting acquainted with the carpet.

"Oh-ho, someone is very well made," that summation came with the very embarrassing, soothing, and all together borderline inappropriate palpation of Orihime's backside by one busty blonde.

The touchy-feely event lasted a lot longer than was reckoned, a lot longer than deserved, to Orihime. In her chest, that muscle of love heaved wildly at her walls, rising into her throat, sealing off breath, and thought, and reason. Cheeks heated, hands clenched, that rising action creating a low, anxious whine. Still, Matsumoto didn't move. This agitated, intense longing for her due recompense to begin brought words to Orihime's lips

"Please, please start…" her whisper so tepid, Rangiku felt it upon her thigh, the passion and yearning bidding to burst the valves.

"As you wish, little one," Matsumoto dreamily mused.

There was a squeeze, ending the massaging motions, then nothing, and abruptly Matsumoto's lesson clapped back down against Orihime.

"Ah!" this sudden stimulation started surreptitiously, its nip mild but lucid, Orihime bucked.

Unsure of her own skill, there was an interlude of silence before the second swat, but between that and the third, and then the fourth there was a shortening, until the rain of redemption was even upon the round of Orihime's posterior. This sensation was new, to say the least, it had been uncountable days and weeks, and years since the last time Orihime had felt the stubborn sting upon her rear. Curious, it was, that she was upon this gentle woman's lap, that her hand was striking her, that she was not struggling, or begging for her to stop, something her younger self was notorious for. For the pleading play that occurred before every spanking, the little dance that she was coerced into with the threat of each swat.

A string that had suddenly been pulled between two fingers, the building action propagated by the placement of hand on back again and again was tensing inside Orihime. She knew not if it was amorous desire to be punished, or shame and dignity butting heads down under her skin, but Inoue's lips pursed in pain, the tedious twinge crying out in steady intervals. The cessation of this was more unsettling than the action, Orihime's neck craned as far as it could; Matsumoto took her assaulting hand between thumb and forefinger.

"This is a lot different than I thought it would be, I'm glad you have such a soft, bouncy bottom…" this was punctuated with a pat that sent Orihime forward as if it were a full swat, from it's suddenness, "…I suppose we will have to do something about your little pants guarding this wonderful, yet terribly naughty butt, hmmm?"

There was a pause, Orihime forgot the most awkward part of this little commotion, she was still being relied on to guide Rangiku through it, pride flushed itself in the form of a wiggle that shot straight from neck to soon-to-be-sore rear.

"When you think It's right…you pull them down…" Orihime instructed, adding a long drawn out sighing moan.

"All right then, no whining now, we'll coax those tears out in earnest, don't feel obligated to force them," Matsumoto assured ominously.

Zipping the lip was harder than expected as the spanks picked up afresh, with vim and vigor, due to the confidence gained through the first portion. No longer, could it be dubbed a mere sting; this was a sting and a half, at the very least. Orihime languished, realizing this was a mirroring experience of what she'd performed upon Rukia. Her revelation simply made the ordeal feel much more obligatory than it had at the outset, her bottom would curse, and spite her, but her conscience would benefit from this uplifting experience as her bottom bounced with each smack.

Perverse enjoyment was overflowing in Rangiku's hand, against her will she had edged a finger into Orihime's waistband and tugged, this was slight but as her other fingers joined the tug of war against the elastic, Matsumoto exposed the lovely panties beyond the pants that had hidden them. Pink, frilly, very girly, Matsumoto coveted the only protection now between her hand and Orihime's discolored bottom. Through the pants there'd been enough interference to prevent distinct reddening, but of course that was about to be remedied. The areas of pink, matching to her underwear, would soon stand out deeper, with humility and regret to spare!

Sensation, not pain, rubbing, it began again, so much more intimate, between skin and skin at points, turned Orihime to butter, she loosed her stiffness, melting in Rangiku's lap, awaiting her punishment to resume. A million thoughts fought in Orihime, she looked around the domicile through carrot curls, bleary eyed, but not crying. Forgiveness surely wasn't easy, was it? Feeling the air on her back there, she could only envision Rukia that other evening, bared and ready for the hairbrush's embrace, which frightened her. Was she soon to be facing the hairbrush?

"Miss…Matsumoto…" came sheepishly, Orihime's voice like a repentant kitten.

"Yes, dear, you want me to start already?" Rangiku immediately linked this interjection to the first of its kind.

"No…I…yes, but I have a question,"

"Go ahead, but I'm going to start," Rangiku warned, Orihime had to turn her head, to frightened to face the guillotine hand if she was to watch it.

"Will…" there was a smack, nice and firm to the center of her backside, "…I get…" another three wallops, expedient as to cut through her speech, "…the hairbrush too?"

There was no reply; just the sound of spanking, the sound of rain on the roof, as it was, emanating heat enrapturing the body with fire and pain. Finally, coolness covered the heat with a voice.

"No, I think this is just fine, you simply made a bad decision, you weren't fighting like a naughty girl we both know,"

The laugh that Orihime tried to have was squashed by the next couple of spanks, but the humor was comforting, something she needed now, when she was vulnerable both physically and emotionally. The rain was cleansing away all the dirt and mire, all of the insecurity and doubt as well. Strengthening as it was, it was also breaking her down. The little child in Orihime wished to bawl, but she wanted to hang on just a little longer, for that intimate time of full skin-to-skin spanking, the torrential downpour that would wash all her sins away.

Pervading endlessly, it seemed, Orihime had shut her eyes against the pain, tears welling at the corners of each eye refused to bleed through, they were adamant at only breaking free when the punishment had been served, when justice was delivered, when the conscience was satisfied. Her hands ground into the carpet, working them raw, the cheek lying against them was red with impressions of the knuckles, the entire face flushed and moistened with bodily precipitation.

This struggle was the only performance that Matsumoto could observe as she worked her hand into the malleable dough that had become Inoue's tush. She thought it time enough to take down those adorable panties and create some solace in Orihime. The quicker those tears came, the quicker she could stop this heartbreaking scene of sniffles and whimpers that escaped Orihime with every swat of her plumping peach posterior that took on more of a poppy hue with each blow.

"Time to finish up, don't be alarmed," came the ultimatum, cool fingers pushing into flesh to grab hold of the panties' waistline.

They found a second home just under the curvature of Orihime's round and full bum, this did not upset Inoue, who gave out a long awaited sigh. Soon she could cry, soon this could all be over, at least this part. If Orihime had followed Rangiku's words well enough, she was sure there was more comeuppance to come up. But that was all right, it was what she deserved, all of her just deserts for being the little girl who thought shinigami, nay, who thought that two innocent ladies, were dollies for her to enjoy, even if against their will, in the beginning of Rukia's case.

Her thoughts came to an end with the promissory first swat, there had been no massage this time, there was no time for massage, the punishment needed to be quick and firm, the burning heat building in the bottom of the bratty baby needed to bring those clandestine tears to the surface. The howitzer hand that had been birthed of that palm upon Matsumoto's arm was working at peak efficiency, a machine built beyond jamming, delivering the hurting upon the bare battlefield that was Orihime's hind. Tomato fields could be inspired to jealousy at the sight of that glowing ground zero. And it was not over by a long shot.

"Oww, oww, owwie, ooh!" Orihime could not control the little outbursts now, but her hands did not move, did not dare obstruct justice as it worked tirelessly against her crimes.

"Shhhh, it will all be over soon," Rangiku soothed, her free hand rubbing the skin exposed by the shirt that had escaped the lower portions of Inoue's back during the thrashing.

Clad in a scald all its own, Matsumoto's palm could gauge Orihime's throbbing with her own. Not much longer, Matsumoto couldn't take much more, certainly that meant a certain fanny was soon to cause its owner the purifying tears of deliverance. The ongoing torment on both of them needed to come to an end.

Blitzing in opposition to its anxious protests, the attacking hand did not cease, nor did it desist, against the bare. The tirade had to continue, to liberate the soul from any grief. Inoue struggled, her eyes could not keep themselves closed, the hiccupping refused to cease, her hands, arms pulling them up and out, squirmed in front of her, swimming through the air but going nowhere.

"Owww…" a copious amount of sniffles ensued "…ooh oww…" more weeping, tearless still, "aah, owwie, aaaah!" something more akin to a cry, but nothing just yet.

Smacks at the lowest level of the bottom seemed to illicit the greatest reaction from her patient, so Matsumoto laid on the icing nice and thick at her sit spots, three slaps to each side before moving to the next, then peppering the remainder of Inoue's derriere. Hoping to sever that final bond, to let go the tears, to tear the string in twain and let go of all that yearning, desire, and guilt, Matsumoto quickened and steeled her pace to the most she could muster. On spanking overdrive, of all things, Orihime's emotional blockage crumbled.

A yowl came, it was terribly babyish, the sound of a wounded kitten, followed by copious sobs and whines. The tears flowed, they gushed; there was never a time in her life that Orihime had cried like this. Spilling around and down, to every direction gravity could pull them, the waterfalls seemed likely to dehydrate Orihime with their tenacious path to her chin, dripping to the carpet, drenched it with a large off-colored spot.

"Please…no more…" the voice was too frail, just about silent, not that it mattered, the throbbing remained, but the punishment had ended.

"We're all done, for now,"

"Rub, please….just a little," Orihime's hushed, battered, and beaten voice pleaded.

Matsumoto considered actions spoke louder than words, and began her handling of the crimson bottom without saying anything at all. She wondered if the two in the bathroom were really bathing, but either way it was likely they were fully aware of what was going on, they could wait a little longer for Orihime. Selfishly or not, she had indeed taken care of them well, despite her faulted actions. Rangiku could not dispute this, and so it was reward time for punished Miss 'Hime.

The moments faded away, everything melted into a blur, Rangiku snapped out of a rather delicious daydream involving her and a tall, strapping man from her past. Shaking the perfect fantasy from her tresses and curls, she glanced down at her charge, who whimpered still, but seemed considerably composed. Rangiku took the liberty to raise Inoue from her pitiful clump upon those thighs and hoist her into sitting. This was at first a mistake, for Orihime had been punished proper, and the mere touch of hind to thighs caused whining and struggling that dissolved into an embrace.

"You took that rather well, better than Rukia?"

"Better? I don't know, I blanked out with the pain, I'm sorry…"

"Not a problem, do you want to stay like this a little longer?"

"It would inconvenience my little ones if your little one took up any more time," Orihime shamefacedly conjectured.

"True, you are, then let's finish this up, shall we? Fetch me the diaper supplies, love," Rangiku gave a forward rub to the flaming behind that made Orihime skip towards her things piled in the middle of the room.

"I don't think these will fit me…"

"Nonsense, just bring them over,"

Orihime did as she was told. She brought over a diaper, the powder, the cream, all of what would be needed so she could be properly treated her to the same "luxury" she'd afforded to Rukia and Hinamori. Served her right, didn't it? She couldn't decide, all that was on her mind was repenting for this business and getting on with her friendship with everyone. She didn't want to be a burden of guilt and unhappiness upon them, she was not weak; Orihime had proved that.

"Hmm, this thing is even more confusing than spanking you…" Matsumoto giggled, unfolding the diaper and turning it over in her hands once, then twice, then a third time before putting together that the tapes go on the bottom.

"I lie down now, and you slip it under me," Orihime explained, before being asked to.

Inoue was already on her back by the time Rangiku was done having fun with her inspection of everything about the diaper. She managed to slip it under Orihime without much to do, removing the pants and panties, discarding them in a heap at her side. She even righted the diaper to be perfectly squared and in place. Despite her apprehensions, the padding perfectly covered all of Orihime rear, if but barely.

"It'll be a little snug, but these adorable pink diapers will definitely fit you. I guess I use this right?" Matsumoto held up the powder.

"Yes, sprinkle it….in the obvious areas…" Orihime blushed deeply, not entirely wanting Matsumoto's hands down there.

But, unbelievably quickly, the deed was done, and onto the cream.

"This says anti-rash, you don't need that now, do you?"

"It would do more than simply protecting against rash…" admitted Orihime, who'd brought it over for the sly thought of being soothed by it.

"Hmm, fine," Rangiku spread it thinly and expertly to every tomato-colored expanse of flesh, cooling the pain with relieving and moisturizing goodness.

A fumble of hand movements signified Matsumoto trying to pull the diaper through the valley created by the bent knees of Orihime. She managed to pull it into position with a little struggled, but otherwise, it was a perfect fit, any bigger of thigh or bottom, and it would not have fit, but even Orihime was surprised how it ideally fell into place.

Just the sensation was new, and oddly, a bit intriguing. She could feel the heavy padding, all that material, being fixed between her legs. It pushed upon the moderately well kept field of carroty bristle, making Orihime shake, but Rangiku ignored this, passing it off as simple post-spanking jitters. The tapes were not as difficult as they had presented themselves when she'd first seen them. Working bottom left first, then bottom right, then top right and top left, she affixed the plush with ease. Wiping her brow as though it were rivets she'd just been slaving over, Matsumoto looked over her work.

"Form fitting, and perfectly adorable, I think someone is entirely paid up," Rangiku picked up Orihime's panties, folding them and dropping them along with the other laundry in a heap in the corner of the room.

She dropped the pants into Orihime's lap. Blinking, Orihime then peered up, as though she was direly confused.

"Put them on, unless you want Hinamori and Rukia to plainly see,"

"But won't they anyway, the pants are very tight?"

"Don't worry, I think they're pretty much aware," and with that Rangiku traipsed back to the bathroom door and knocked twice, "everyone out, "bath time" is over,"

Orihime scrambled to her feet, shoving each leg in, tripping to her padded rear with a loud thud. She ignored this, placed her shoulders to the floor, lifted her pelvis into the air and shifted the pants right up, over the diaper just as the door unlocked and with the sound of unoiled metal, the two girls both meandered out, looking, easily, perturbed.

The brightest façade one has ever seen was exuded from Orihime, who had sat Indian-style, hands in her lap, to hide the obvious fact that there was much more underneath her pants that usual. Nervous hands pulled at the back of her shirt, while the other kept guard at the crotch. To no avail, she could not pull the pants up enough, or the shirt down enough to totally cover her bepadded self. Hinamori could not contain her laughter, she knelt besides Inoue and pulled on her arm, trying to dislodge it from her middle.

"You don't have to hide, mommy," Hinamori breathed gently, "it was quite loud enough," she insisted, Orihime caved.

"This is mortifying…" Orihime said, covering her face from scrutiny with her hand.

"No, it's not…"

"Yes, it is,"

"Yeah, a lot different when you get a taste of your own medicine," Rukia said headily, although it was obvious she was still quite diapered, and quite wet.

Everyone shot the haughty girl a nasty look. Matsumoto took her by the arm.

"Let's go for a walk, Miss Kuchiki,"

"But, what…about…and the diaper and…" but she was already pulled out the door, and it was shut behind them.

Momo and Orihime were alone, finally.

"I…mommy…err…Orihime," Hinamori stammered.

Orihime put a finger to those lips and took hold of her, falling backwards, embracing with such fury and passion that the whole world was beginning to shatter around them. The inky black from so long before, covered the room turning tile and carpet to nothingness, to floating, weightless in air of everything and nothing all at once. Orihime's breathing was short, labored, and erratic. Hinamori was hardly breathing at all, but opened their eyes, and all that was there were them.

"I'm going to have to go…" Hinamori began.

"I know, but that doesn't change anything," interrupted Inoue.

"This won't work; we both know it, as cliché as that sounds,"

"It already worked, there was the time we spent together, it has made us both stronger,"

"But…"

"No butts, except diapered ones, yours or mine…"

"What about spanked ones?"

"Those too…"

Hinamori's resulting giggle couldn't crack the loving darkness.

"Then what do we do now?" Hinamori asked, her weary eyes for once wide open, turned to spheres of love.

"Let's enjoy this moment, while we're still here,"

"What do you mea-" she was cut off, the lips were too fast.

Ginger hair flew in all directions as Orihime craned her neck up at the last possible moment. The waggle through her entire frame created crackling crinkles of every sound and tone. But that didn't stop them. Hinamori pushed down, her lips hugging onto Orihime's. She pushed her torso, pelvis, thighs, all of herself, into Hinamori as desperately as she could. The feeling of padded thickness rubbing, pushing on thickly paddedness created sparks and loving palpitations of the heart. Throbbing, bobbing, lips in a messy fight against the other, the two fought like that, bloody colored cheeks, for as long as time had time to spare.

It should have lasted forever, but the best things never do. The two enjoyed that moment for as long as it could last. Neither would forget the courage and confidence they inspired in each other. And for each of their happy endings, this memory would always remain. For friends create in us the power to be strong, the bravery to accept weakness, the good sense to know when we're in need of care, and sometimes discipline.

FIN