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InkuHime

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  1. Consider this a Halloween treat. I also created a Deviant Art Page, InkuHime, with some new art on it. Here is the next part of the story The Duke of Threes’ office was designed to project power. In the Mundane World, Kristine had seen a few offices like that, College Deans, CEOs, one or two judges. Everything about the offices seemed to be saying, ‘I am powerful and dangerous.’ Then there was the Duke himself. Almost beautiful, tall and slim, dangerous and powerful. As she stood in front of his desk, guard behind her, Kristine looked at this man who had upturned her life, at least twice. She wanted to be angry, well, she was angry, of course. She wanted to show that anger, to rail against him, to perhaps even pull out her mace and lay about the office. She enjoyed the fantasy for the moment, but buried it immediately and damped down her anger. As a lawyer, she might be passionate, but never overemotional. The dangerous man was observing her as she was observing him. Kristine wanted to pull down at the hem of her ridiculously short dress’ skirt, to make sure it covered her diaper. She wanted to, but she did not. He spoke first, and Kristine could not be certain if that meant he won or she did. “You invaded my castle, abducted a guest and attacked my subjects.” Trespassing, maybe breaking and entering, kidnapping, not abduction, and assault with a deadly weapon, perhaps manslaughter. It sounded pretty bad. Kristine wondered if Gorgeous had the Magical World equivalent of a warrant? Well, she was not in court, she had not been sworn in, and she was not going to argue her actions. “I’m here to see the other Nursery Knighth,” she said, almost getting it out lisp free. He might have looked surprised for a moment. Because of what she asked? Because she had not reacted to his accusations? Or maybe he was not surprised at all. “If you had accompanied my agents who came for you in the Mundane World you would have already met them.” His tone was Patronizing. Kristine tried not to react, but she felt her fist clenched tight as she answered, “They did not make their intent clear.” He nodded after a moment. “Well, you are here now, and I can understand your confusion and I am willing to forgive you your actions.” “I am not theeking your forgiveness. I am here to see the Nurthery Knights.” Behind her, the guards shifted about, perhaps nervous. The Duke did not react, at all. A good poker face that showed nothing, Kristine thought, but the very fact he was maintaining such a deadpan look told Kristine she had surprised him. It was an advantage if she could find a way to use it. The blank countenance was gone, and the Duke of Threes smiled. “Well, you are of course Welcome to meet with the Nursery Knights, you are one, after all, they are like your sisters.” And you are supposed to be our daddy? She did not voice that question. “While you are in my land you will be confined to the Garden I have prepared for people from the Mundane Realm.” There was no room for refusal in that statement. It was either accept it or leave. “Of courthe,” Kristine replied. “Very well.” The Duke stood. Even before her transformation, the Duke would have towered over her, at least by two heads. He moved with a smoothness that Kristine associated with great cats or high-performance sports cars. It was inhuman. “Please,” he said in a manner that made it clear it was not a word he often uttered, “come with me.” The guards were nervous and uncertain as they parted, letting the Duke pass. Kristine followed after him, having to run to keep up. Behind them, the guards formed up and followed. “I will be going down to the Garden,” the Duke told the clerks in the outer office, not slowing to acknowledge them as they all jumped to their feet. Kristine had been escorted under armed guard to the office, and then the guards had taken her through what Kristine assumed were servant corridors. The way that the Duke led her was through grand hallways, filled with artwork and light. As they passed people, they would turn and bow their heads to the Duke, calling him, ‘Your Grace.’ Following as she was, Kristine was the focus for those peoples’ attention. In her rustling diapers, with the slight waddle, she knew she looked ridiculous. Especially in the Duke's wake as he was anything but ridiculous. He did not moderate his pace for her but instead stopped so she could catch up. It made her feel ridiculous, and like a little girl. She assumed he was doing it on purpose but could not discount it was simply an unconscious action by someone who was a master at manipulating people. When she caught up to him the sixth time, he did not continue, but stood, a window at his back. “You know Kristine, I don’t want you to think of me as an enemy.” She looked up at him. “I’m not thure how I could not.” He looked down at her. “I could not know that Derrypiz would take my musings and do something with them.” Entirely true, but he would have believed, would have hoped. If she had him on the stand proving his guilt would be a matter of two or three questions demanding 'yes' or 'no' answers. She imagined saying to the judge, ‘Permission to treat the Duke as a hostile witness’. She also imagined doing so while in a thick diaper, so the fantasy was ruined. Kristine nodded and said nothing. “But while I am not at fault, I am responsible, don’t you think?” Kristine did not answer right away, considering the Duke's statement. “I think you are right.” “That is why I have brought the Nursery Knights here Kristine. They are incapable of taking care of themselves, and would be trapped in a world that would not understand them.” “Motht Magical Girlth are living in a world that would not understand them.” “And are they happy?” Telling, Kristine thought, remembering the night she had met Tac. Magical Parfait on the TV. Kristine remembered calling her a joke. She did not want to answer, but silence would be taken as agreement. “I can’t say.” He nodded as if she said exactly what he wanted to hear. “I brought the Nursery Knights here so they could be happy, taken care of, and not looked at as if they were freaks.” Freak. A strong word. But not an unfair way to describe the oversized toddlers that the Nursery Knights were created to be. “Mr Bear could take care of me,” Kristine said. “Mr Bear?” “My Plushie animal,” Kristine said and regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. The Duke smiled. “Yes, the toy golems. I think you would find out soon enough that the golems are more suited to fighting than taking care of special little girls like the Nursery Knights.” Special. There was another strong word. But she did not believe what the Duke was saying. Mr Bear had changed her, cleaned her, mended her clothing, treated her wounds, and held her. As annoying as Mr Bear’s presence was, Kristine was quite confident in the plushie’s child care skills. Maybe the other Knight’s toy golems were not as good at it, but Kristine doubted it. The Duke was full of shit. An unfortunate train of thought though, as it made her aware that her diaper was probably a little messy. The Duke turned and started walking. Kristine had to run once more to keep up. “I want you to keep in mind that I am looking out for your interests and the interests of the Other Nursery Knights, Kristine. And keep in mind that the magic that has transformed you will continue to do so. You are going to need someone to take care of you.” He looked over his shoulder and smiled. Kristine ignored the smile, for her attention was on his eyes and the strange hunger within them. What did he want? What was the reason for that hunger? “You’ll excuthe me if I would rather it not be you.” “I think you’ll change your mind.” He looked away from her. He sounded confident. Kristine wanted to kick him in the back. They reached a steep stairway. He offered her his hand. She did not bat it away, though she wanted to, but ignored it and started up the stairs. The high stairs were difficult for her smaller legs, and she knew the Duke, who followed her, was possibly looking up her short skirt at her diapered bottom. Thankfully the stairway was not too long, and she stepped out onto a flat rooftop. A strange chariot sat upon the roof, a set of empty traces laid out in front of it. The duke stepped around her and walked over to the chariot. He stepped up on the deck of the carriage. “Come along,” he said. After a moment Kristine walked over and stepped up into the chariot beside him. Taking up the reins the Duke of Threes made a flicking motion. Three winged tigers formed in the traces and leapt into the sky. Kristine grabbed the railing and just managed not to scream. Smiling the Duke of Threes directed the team out of the city. Kristine looked over the sides of the chariot, at the city that rose up on either side of a valley. “Quite the sight is it not?” Denying it would be churlish. Kristine nodded. “It’th beautiful.” “Everything in my land is beautiful Kristine. You would be happy here, I promise.” “But I could not leave the garden you made.” “I might make an exception.” “Don’t bother. I don’t plan on thtaying.” He did not answer immediately. “You should at least give it a chance.” She did not answer that. No point in arguing it. “What does the Mundane World offer you?” The question surprised Kristine. And no answer came to her immediately. What did it offer her? She could live comfortable enough, make herself useful through magic, but what else? “I have not decided yet,” she answered. He smiled as if he had suspected such an answer. It made her angry, but she said nothing, ignoring him as they flew down the mountainside. The stretches of wild forest and bare rock of the mountain were broken by the appearance of buildings and tended gardens, all surrounded by a wall. The Duke of Threes directed the chariot towards the ground, touching down near an open gate. He stepped down from the chariot, offered her his hand. She could not decide how to not take the hand without seeming childish, so she let him help her down. “This way Kristine,” he said, indicating the open gate.” It was on Kristine’s tongue to ask that he call her Miss St. James but she held back, knowing her lisp would make that demand ridiculous. Beyond the gate were manicured grounds and elegant buildings in pastel colours. It was like something out of a dream, which Kristine supposed was the point. Then she saw the ogre. Alarm faded as soon as she saw the giant wore a long dress, like some 19th-century maid. A female ogre? Or was that creature no different than the ones that she had fought in the station not that long ago? Perhaps they took off their armour and put on dresses? Her attention was drawn away from the ogre, who was walking away, to a woman who stood awaiting the Duke. She wore a dark blue dress, with a blue band around her eyes. She looked pretty, with long, black hair and delicate features. She dipped into a low curtsey. “Your Grace.” “Colleen, this is Kristine. She is the sixth Nursery Knight.” Perhaps she was surprised, it was hard to tell with her eyes covered. “It is as you said, Your Grace.” Kristine frowned when the woman said that. As if her actions count be predicted. “She is here as a guest,” The Duke said. “A guest?” “An honoured guest, but a guest none the less. Keep that in mind.” “Of course your Grace.” Kristine was certain more was being said than she was aware of. She guessed it was the equivalent of ‘keep her on the outside of things’. The outside of what was, of course, the question. Kristine did not know if it was a question she wanted to ask. She shifted from foot to foot for a moment under Colleen’s gaze. She made herself stop. Her diaper felt damp, heavy. She hoped she had not messed it very much. “Where are the girls?” the Duke asked. “They are in the rose garden, resting up.” “Then let us go and introduce Kristine to the Nursery Knights.” The Duke sounded quite happy. Kristine was not sure what she felt. “This way,” Colleen said and set off deeper into the garden. For a blindfolded woman, she seemed confident in her steps, leading Kristine and the Duke past buildings, through a small hedge maze, and out into a spacious glade surrounded by roses, with a tall oak in the centre of the clearing. There were several of the ogre nannies there, tall and broad-shouldered in their blue dresses. The Nursery Knights were seated on small cushions, though one in the lap of an ogre, being bottle fed, and another on her back, having a diaper changed. A messy diaper. Kristine recalled squatting on a roof, in a messy diaper, bringing herself to orgasm. Of course, it was not her, but the magic. She hoped. Still, a small thrill ran through her as she imagined herself on her back, an ogre holding her legs up as her messy bottom was cleaned. It is just the magic, she told herself again, looking away, fixing her attention on the other Nursery Knights. They were dressed similarly to how she was. Dresses, with hems high enough that their diapers were visible. In different colours than her blue. The Nursery Knights noted the Duke of Threes first. Four of them sprung to their feet and rushed at him. The one having her diaper changed had to be held down by the ogre as a new diaper was taped on. The twelve foot tall, muscle-bound nanny looked as if she was being challenged. Good to see the other Nursery Knights were strong, Kristine thought. Probably explained the choice of a nanny. Soon the Duke was surrounded by a group of girls, all crowding around him and begging for attention. They all looked a little younger than Kristine currently looked. If you put them in regular clothing and had them walking along a street back in her world, she would probably put a guess of seven or eight, maybe nine to the ages. The Duke appeared a gentle, doting uncle type of person, patting them on their heads and having kind words for them all. And the Nursery Knights obviously adored him. Not just the Knights. The nanny ogres looked on respectfully, and Colleen gazed on the Duke with naked love and lust, so much so Kristine grew slightly uncomfortable being in the presence of that raw emotion. “Now girls, quiet down for a moment. I have a guest I want you to meet.” Kristine was reminded of the scene from the Sound of Music when the von Trapp family lined up in an orderly manner to meet their new governess. The Duke started off by introducing the other Nursery Knights, all of whom who were now regarding Kristine with open curiosity. Mandy, with long brown hair held back from her face by a green Alice band the same colour as her dress. Betty, with a pixie cut of fine blonde hair that was like a halo around her elfin face. She was dressed in bright red. Annie, the tallest (though still a bit shorter than Kristine) with black hair cut tomboy short and wearing bright yellow as her primary colour. Fiona, who had been having her diaper changed, with light brown skin and black hair in pigtails, was dressed in a dark blue that was almost purple. Vicky, auburn hair, long and braided, dressed in a pale pink that was almost white. Once they had all been introduced the Duke of Threes presented Kristine to them. “Girls, this is Kristine, she was supposed to be a Nursery Knight and fight the Nightmare King with you. She only recently became a Magical Girl, like you, and she has come looking for you.” “Why didn’t ya help us fight the Nightmare King,” Annie demanded. “Becauthe my Liaison wath late,” Kristine told Annie. “Late?” “Drunk apparently.” That actually got some giggles from the girls. “We didn’t need your help anyways,” Vicky said, standing up straight. Kristine could not help but notice the way Vicky’s diaper sagged. She wondered how the girl could look so proud standing there in a sodden diaper. “Why did you come looking for us?” Betty asked. Betty had only the slightest of lisps, and that pissed Kristine off a little. The answer was that she had needed to find out who one lived as a Magical Girl like a Nursery Knight, but seeing how the girls lived, in this nursery garden, she did not want to voice that. “I wanted to make thure you were alright,” she told them. “Of course we’re alright,” Mandy said. The other Nursery Knights all nodded and agreed. Betty had bent at the knees a little, almost squatting, and Kristine realised she was filling the back of her diaper. In front of them all. While professing that she was all right. Chronologically she had to be in her mid-twenties, and there she was, messing her diaper without thought. Kristine felt a shiver that she hoped was fear when she pictured herself in Betty’s place. “Now girls,” the Duke said, “Kristine is here as a guest, and I want you to be on your best with guest behaviour with her.” “Yes Duke,” the girls chorused. Kristine knew there was more to that statement, but she did not know what it was. “I will leave you in the company of your fellow Magic Girls and the staff,” the Duke of Threes told Kristine. The other Nursery Knights sounded their disappointment that he was leaving. “You are of course welcome to leave the garden whenever you want Kristine, but you will leave my lands when you do so. Understood?” Kristine nodded. “Understood.” He nodded, and then said, “On your best, guest behaviour girls.” Then he left. Everyone was silent for a few seconds before questions started. “Where were you?” “What did you do?” “How long have you been a Magical Girl?” “Why do you have a lisp?” “Do you like tag?” “Do you like dolls?” And more questions. Then Colleen stopped them with, “Girls, be quiet for a moment.” They did as told. “Kristine just got here and needs a little time to get used to the garden. Now I want you to all run off and play in the orchard and give Kristine some time to herself. There will be plenty of times for questions and games later.” “Yes Colleen,” the girls chorused out almost as one. They were led away with a series of 'bye byes'. Their nannies directed them from the glade, leaving Kristine with Colleen and another of the ogres. “Is there anything you need? Something to eat or drink or a rest?” Colleen asked her. “I would like a toilet,” Kristine said, aware of the pressure in her bottom. She half expected the woman to say something like ‘you are wearing your toilet’ or ‘just use your diaper like a good little baby’, but all Colleen said was, “Please show her to the bathroom.” She actually made a strange sound before saying that. Kristine assumed the odd noise was the ogre’s name. “Of course, come this way,” the ogre said. Her voice was deep and flat, the big teeth in her mouth giving her an odd inflection of speech. The ogre led Kristine through the maze, back out towards the gates. The nanny opened the doors in one of the buildings, pointing to a passage and stairway far too narrow for her broad shoulders, and said, “It is at the top of the stairs.” The narrow stairway smelt of stale air and piss, the stairs were thick with dust, the walls looked grimy. It was dark, hard to see, no windows. It was like something out a slasher flick. At the top of those stairs was a small door. It opened into a windowless closet that turned out to be a bathroom lit by a dim, flickering mage light. It looked like Kristine assumed a toilet on a construction site might look, and smell. She was not certain she wanted to put her naked bottom on the seat. If there were more room, she might summon Mr Bear to clean the bathroom, though, in all honesty, she felt it would be cruel to make Mr Bear clean such a mess. In the end, she removed her very wet and slightly messy diaper and sat down on the seat. Gross, she thought. There was, to her amazement, toilet paper. A roll of it, the paper looked old. It was a little brittle and not the softest thing with which she had ever wiped herself. That done she went through the complicated process of putting on a new diaper. Difficult in the small bathroom. As she walked down the stairs, carrying her wrapped up, used diaper, feeling as if there were a layer of grime on her, the ill-fitting diaper loose around her hips, Kristine wondered if it would not be simpler just to mess her diaper freely and change it. She supposed it was the point of such an unpleasant toilet. Had the other Nursery Knights tried using it when they had first got there, before giving it up and just using their diapers? She stepped out of the building, feeling better to be in the bright sun and fresh air. It made her feel as if that coating of grunge evaporated. “Let me take that for you,” the ogre said, holding out her hand. It took Kristine a moment to realise she was talking about the diaper. She knew she was blushing as she held out the used diaper for the ogre. As the ogre disposed of it, Kristine took a moment to pull up her skirt a little and refasten her diaper. She had not taped herself up as well as Mr Bear might, but it no longer felt as if the diaper was going to slide down her narrow hips to her knees. The ogre came back, smiled with those large, pointed teeth, and asked, “Would you like to see where the girls live?” “Thank you, yeth,” Kristine said, curious. There were several buildings there, some redundant, all dedicated to the Nursery Knights. They were all bright and clean, and if there was a faint scent of messy diapers, Kristine did not really notice it over scents of baby powder and soap. The Largest building was an airy, two-story structure, all pastel colours. On the second floor, a room that took up nearly half the building was where the Nursery Knight’s slept. There were six cribs, each almost the size of a queen sized bed, with high railings of polished woods. Gauzy drapes hung around each crib, and within them were a small collection of toys and blankets. One crib stood empty, the curtains tied back, the mattress bare of sheets. “This is your crib,” the ogre said. “Thurely there must be a bed or thomething I can sleep in?” The ogre shook her head. “No, I am sorry. The Nursery Knights must be in their cribs, for safety, when they sleep. It is a rule.” Kristine could leave, the Duke had said as much, but she would have to leave his lands. So if she wished to stay, to find out what was going on, she was going to have to live by the rules here. “I underthtand,” Kristine told her. “Would you like a nap?” Kristine shook her head, wanting to put off sleeping in that crib for as long as possible. The Ogre smiled again. “Let me put some sheets on the mattress for later then.” Kristine did not seem to have a choice but watch as the ogre made up the crib. She put a rubber sheet on the mattress first, smiling at Kristine as she did it, then what looked like flannel sheets in light blue and yellow. She finished it off by putting a few toys in. “You can have your favourite toys in your crib, once you have picked some.” Kristine tried to smile even though she felt as if her stomach was turning over. The ogre continued to tour, pointing out the room where the Nursery Knights took most of their meals, with large highchairs waiting. She pointed out a few potties, perfect sized for Kristine, near the changing tables. None of the Nursery Knights used them, the ogre informed her, but she was welcome to. Kristine wondered if it would be better to continue to use that dirty toilet or if she would prefer the humiliation of using a swan-shaped potty that sat out in the open. Finally, she was brought to the orchard. There she found the Nursery Knights laid out on blankets, napping. One of the ogres was changing Fiona’s diaper, holding the girl's legs up as she wiped her messy bottom. Fiona looked as she might be asleep. Kristine again flashed on an image of herself in Fiona’s position. “They will be napping for a while,” the ogre told Kristine. “Would you like a nap as well?” It looked peaceful, under those trees, among the brightly clothed nursery knights who slept peacefully. “No, I’m fine,” she said. There was a bench nearby, too big for her, but she climbed onto it and sat, her legs dangling. How soon after the Nightmare King had been defeated did the Duke of Threes bring the Nursery Knights to his lands? He probably waited until the liaisons had moved on to their next job. And he would have gotten away with it had it not been for Tac’s laziness. Kristine almost laughed as she thought that, and she did smile. As she sat there, she got a feeling that someone was watching her. She looked around. Colleen appeared to be staring at her, and Kristine felt she could feel that pointed gaze even through the blindfold around the woman's eyes. Kristine jumped down from the bench and walked to where Colleen stood. “How long have they been here?” She looked around that the Nursery Knights. Colleen did not reply immediately, her gaze seeming to take Kristine in, from her feet to her head. “Close to eighteen years.” Kristine almost swore, but she felt as if such language had no place there. “That’s a long time.” Colleen shook her head. “It is not, not really.” Kristine was about to ask Colleen how long she had been there, but the question died on her tongue. She did not want to know the answer. Instead, she asked, “What about their families?” “Their families,” Colleen paused, “they have forgotten about them. And they have all been well compensated.” “Forgotten but compensated?” The lawyer in Kristine wanted to understand that. You did not compensate people who did not know they needed to be compensated. “It is to make sure things are fair and right. The families might not remember, but the Duke of Threes does.” Like he was some kind of Saint, but Kristine doubted it. Something about the man seemed off. “What if the Nursery Knights want to leave?” “Why would they? The girls are happy here.” She sounded so certain, so confident. Perhaps she was right. “Maybe I’ll convince them to leave.” Colleen smiled in a patronising way. “You can try.” Her tone was insulting, and Kristine nearly ground her teeth at it and the unvoiced ‘baby girl’ that she believed was implied. “You should realise that the Duke of Threes only wants what is best for you. Right now you have a mind full of big girl ideas, but those will fade.” Kristine bristled at the term ‘big girl’ being applied to her adult life. “And when they fade you’ll need to be taken care of. You are a Magical Girl, and you could really hurt someone when your way of thinking gets simpler. Do you really think you are safe in the Mundane World?” “Of course I am thafe.” “Safe for other people to be around?” What a stupid question, Kristine thought, but after a moment she thought about the fight on the mountain and the man on the train. What sort of damage might she do in the Mundane World if her emotional maturity were to regress even a little? What might happen if she got mad? “I see you understand,” Colleen said, apparently taking Kristine’s silence as agreement. “I am not a danger to anyone,” Kristine said. Colleen gave her a doubtful look. “What if you are and you just do not realise it yet?” Again Kristine was at a loss for words. “Be very certain before you leave here Kristine. Think about what might happen if you are overestimating your maturity.” Colleen walked off to speak to one of the ogre nurses, giving Kristine no opportunity for a rebuttal. The question bothered her. What if she was dangerous? It preyed on her mind, and she was so focused on that she did not notice the other Nursery Knights waking from their naps. It was only when Annie grabbed Kristine's hands did she realise. “We’re going for our music lessons,” Annie said with a smile. “Come on.” Kristine let Annie lead her along a garden path, just behind the rest of the waddling girls, until they reached a small amphitheatre near the wall. There Colleen had the girls take their places on the stage. Kristine took a seat close, watching. All five the girls were examining her, in between taking instruction from Colleen. Then, her instructions delivered, she had them sing. It was beautiful, their voices, high and pure, weaving around each other with a resonance one usually only heard with siblings. They sang in a strange language that Kristine did not recognise, but it pulled at her. Looking at the smiling, singing girls she wished, for a moment, she might be part of that group. After a time, perhaps half an hour the Nursery Knights paused. Then Annie opened her mouth as if she was going to start again, but her gaze shifted towards Kristine and she suddenly shut her mouth and an audible ‘click’ of teeth coming together. The Nursery Knights looked a little, well, nervous. Colleen clapped her hands. “Good enough girls.” The Music lesson ended, and Kristine was certain something was being hidden from her. After the music lesson, there was dance, which seemed equal part performance and martial art. Dance led into active running about and roughhousing, with the girls climbing trees and dashing around an area near the gates. Then Colleen read the girls a story, an adventure that Kristine found herself interested in spite of herself. Bettie took a seat close to Kristine and whispered that they always heard the best stories. Kristine watched as the girls calmed down after all the physical activity while listening to the story. Apparently, there was a method to that, as when Colleen closed the book she was reading from she announced it was time for dinner. Calmer and obviously hungry the Nursery Knights went obediently to their home and the dining room. There each of the Nursery Knights was picked up by one of the ogre nannies and placed in a highchair. Kristine was worried that she would be treated the same and was not quite certain to do if she was, but instead, a place was set for her at a table. The food looked like something an elementary student might be served, but the baby bottle set next to the plate and bowl was another matter entirely. The utensils were strange, seeming far too large. Then she saw while the handles were scaled for the ogres the fork tines and spoon bowls were sized for people her size. The handles were clumsy in her hands, and it was something of a pain to use them. It would be easier to eat with her hands, or even easier still to let one of the ogres feed her. She did her best to make do with the utensils but ended up a messy eater in spite of herself. "Would you like a bib?" Colleen asked, watching as Kristine dabbed another spill from the front of her dress. "No, thank you," Kristine said in a tight tone. Deciding not to play along with things any longer she grabbed the bottle and tried to twist the top off. However, it turned out the bottle was all one piece, and her action caused the entire thing to shatter, spilling milk all over the place. She sat there, with some broken shards of a plastic-like material in her hands, milk all over her and the table in front of her, stunned for a moment. If the Colleen or the ogre nannies had snapped at her, had been angry at her, that would have been for the best. If they had called her stupid and told her just to drink from the bottle, she could have easily dealt with that. However, when one of the nannies was at her side, keeling, cleaning up the mess and asking if she was okay, all Kristine could feel was guilty. Guilt was not easy to deal with. Guilt made her feel like crap, and she desperately wanted to do something so she would not feel like crap. She tried telling herself that it was all a setup, and it probably was, but looking at the ogre kneeling there, cleaning things up, it was hard to think that way. So when the mess was all cleaned up and a bib placed around her neck, she did not object. When a fresh bottle was put on her table, Kristine picked it up and drank from it, sucking on the nipple. It pissed her off. The meal was exhausting, and she supposed if she remained there long enough then she might simply let the nannies take over feeding her. It looked easier for everyone involved. She hoped that she would not be there that long. Various activities had kept her busy after dinner, and when Kristine climbed into the crib, she was exhausted. “Damn,” she said softly, “this mattress is so soft.” She did not object when one of the nannies pulled the side of the crib up, locking the door into place. She almost drifted off to sleep. From the sound of things, the rest of the Nursery Knights were already asleep. Kristine stood and carefully climbed out of the crib, her thick nighttime diaper making her feel clumsy. Gently she lowered herself to the floor, feet touching down silently. She was no more than two steps from the crib when one of the ogre nannies was suddenly close. “Did you fall out of your crib?” she asked in a soft tone. As that would have been even possible, Kristine thought, but she said, “I need to use the bathroom.” “Come on then.” Kristine did have to use the bathroom, though it was not an immediate thing. Not quite yet. She had hoped to look around, but apparently, she was being watched. By the time they got to the washroom Kristine actually had to use it and climbed the narrow, dirty stairs quickly. Once she was finished and back down with the nanny, she decided that she would get some rest, but starting tomorrow, she would do her best to find out what was happening here.
  2. It took Tahc a few days to get back to the lands of the Duke of Threes. She could not just go straight back to him, not if subtlety was required. And even when she returned to his kingdom, it was not as if she could go right into his office. She was an ‘off the books’ asset. In the city, she paid the owner of a large inn to fly a bright blue flag over his building and then waited at the arranged meeting place, often in the form of a small, black cat that disappeared in the shadows. It was about two days before the Duke of Threes came to the out of the way section of his castle. He paused and asked, “What do you have for me Tahc?” Tahc jumped down, flowing from the form of cat to woman between the ledge and the floor. She bowed respectfully. “My Lord, I am sorry that I cannot tell you where Gorgeous is. However, I believe that the sixth Nursery Knight you are seeking is in the Magical Realm.” He stared at her for a few seconds without saying anything. She wondered what was going on behind his eyes. He maintained a deadpan look so often when they spoke. The emotions, if they appeared on his face, were schooled to show Tahc what we wanted her to see. “And how did you come to that conclusion?” “Gorgeous pulled in a Liason named Gwens to help her with something. She, Gwens, was recently wounded. I suspect during the events on Mountain Seven.” He did not say anything. Tahc continued. “Gwens was one of the Liaisons for the Nursery Knights, for Betty. It is not impossible that Gorgeous just wanted to know more about that project, but it is possible that she brought Gwens along because she, Gorgeous, was dealing with one of the Nursery Knights.” “So the Magical Girl with Gorgeous is one of the Nursery Knights?” “I believe so.” “Which means she may come right to me,” he said, and for a moment Tahc thought she saw something in his eyes. Something not schooled, something he may not have wanted her to see. Desire, lust, hunger. It was gone before she could be certain. “Assuming you are correct.” “I believe I am.” “I do not think a single Nursery Knight could defeat a War Titan. Pretty things, they are not particularly strong nor bright.” It was an unfair assessment, though not an unjustified one. Tahc nodded. “Yes my Lord.” “So, you still do not know where Gorgeous is, and you really don’t know who the Magical Girl with Gorgeous is.” Tahc nodded. “I am certain that she is travelling with a Nursery Knight my Lord.” He smiled. “Well then, if you turn out to be right I will commend you then on your analytical skills.” Tahc did not ask what he might do if she were wrong. “Should I continue to seek out Gorgeous?” He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head. “I think not. You have not found her yet, I take that is an indication of her skill at travelling unseen. We will wait for her to come here, as it seems certain she must.” “Yes my Lord.” “Watch those ways in which Gorgeous might try to enter my lands. Inform me immediately of anything important you might learn.” She nodded. He said nothing else to her and left her. Tahc stepped back into the shadows and wondered how Gorgeous might enter the Duke of Threes’ land unseen. The Ebony Zephyr was a strange train or train like thing. The stations it stopped at were often out of the way, not really hidden, but more forgotten. Except by those that had the desire to ride the train. In the lands of the Duke of Threes, the station was found beneath a mountain. A long set of stairs led up from the station into a small forest village at the base of the mountain. Kristine, Tac and Gorgeous left the train, a few other passengers disembarking at the same time, a handful boarding. Kristine looked around at the darkly elegant station, with walls of polished black stone and checkerboard floor tiles. It was starkly clear and empty. There was a small ticket kiosk with a single bench, both looking tiny in the cathedral-like space. This was not a place where people were supposed to spend any time. Already the passengers who had disembarked were climbing the stairs, and the Black Zephyr’s engine was beginning to tremble and hum. Surely it would leave soon. “Well, we’re here,” Tac said, hands shoved into her pockets as she looked around. “What now great leader?” Gorgeous seemed thoughtful. “I suppose we’ll need to head up top, try to keep a low profile, start a search for Umon.” “Or we could have Kristine search for him magically,” Tac said. “What?” Gorgeous asked as Kristine said, “I can do that?” Tac, hands still in pockets answered Kristine, “Probably. Let’s give it a try.” “She has access to Clairvoyant magics?” Gorgeous asked. Tac only shrugged her shoulders as she took her hands from her pockets. “Okay Kristine, like everything, it is all about visualisation. So, I need you to think about multiple things, assuming you can keep more than two different thoughts together in that small head of yours.” “Thut up Tac.” Tac smiled as she stepped close to Kristine. “Okay, think about the magical energies all around you leading off to cameras.” “Camerath?” “Like security cameras. You tune into them and peek through.” “Okay,” Kristine said as the idea began to form in her mind. "So you look through those cameras and try to find Umon. And you got to let the magic handle things, it’s like,” Tac thought for a few seconds, “software, that does it for you. You’ve heard of that?” Kristine blew out an exasperated breath. “Facial recognition thoftware. Of courthe, I know it.” “No one likes a smart ass little girl Kristine. So keep those ideas in your head and add this one. You can’t let anyone know you are doing this. So you got to hide as you do this. You can’t let anyone know that you are watching them. That will give away the game.” “I underthtand,” Kristine said as the different ideas began to gel in her head. “Okay, so you want to find Umon, who is probably being shielded in some way, so you’ll need to look around those shields without disturbing them.” Kristine nodded again. “Umon is middle management, middle-aged type, all full of himself.” “He is probably scared right now, uncertain,” Gorgeous added. Tac and Gorgeous followed with a detailed description of the man, sometimes arguing over details. Kristine listened and after about ten minutes said, “Okay, let me try thith.” She walked over to the bench and took a seat. Closing her eyes, she let the magic form. She spread her hands. “Nurthery Camera Peek a Boo,” she said, felt her cheeks heat up at the words. She added the next part of the spell, “Blanket Fort Hide Away.” There, she was hidden. “Gentle Chwistmath Pwethent Shake.” “This is the baby crap I have to put up with,” Tac said. “Shut up Tac,” Gorgeous told her. Kristine kept her eyes closed as the multiple magical creations wove together into a single spell. She gasped softly, information overload like a stabbing headache. She wet her diaper a little, hardly aware of it. Ignoring the sharp pain, Kristine focused on filtering out what she did not need. The description of Umon, the fact that he was warded in some manner, that allowed her to start ‘shutting off’ different Nursery Cameras. The more she did it, the faster it went. The pain receded. The condition of her diaper made itself felt. She sighed and continued. Gently she bypassed the wards she found, not really giving what was behind them much attention unless they were Umon shaped. How long she was at it, Kristine was not sure. She heard Tac and Gorgeous talking but had no time to focus on what they were saying. She opened her eyes. “I found him,” she said. “Really?” Gorgeous asked. She sounded surprised. Kristine wondered if she and Tac had been talking about her ability to find Umon. “Really,” Kristine said, more bite in her tone that she intended. “He’th in a castle, but he ith protected, like I am theeing his reflection, but through many mirrorth.” “Redirect wards, pretty common,” Tac said. “That you can see through them means you can get him.” She nodded. “It will take theveral teleports.” “Tic Toc,” Tac said. “Faster you grab him faster we leave.” Tac was hopeless. “She is right,” Gorgeous said. “The longer we stay, the more likely we will be found out.” “I underthtand,” Kristine said, trying not to sound angry. She was the one doing all the work. No point in arguing. Kristine stood, ignored the crinkling of her diaper, brushed her hands down her skirt, felt the damp diaper beneath her fingers, and then visualised the first point on the path of the redirect wards. She teleported. After Kristine had left Gorgeous said, “I am amazed that she could scry like that. And see through the wards.” “Sure you are.” Tac’s tone was thick with sarcasm. “What?” “Don’t play dumb with me Gorgeous, I got it figured out.” “Got what figured out?” Tac stared at her for several seconds and then nearly shouted, “By all the powers. You really are stupid. You don’t know.” “Don’t know what?” Gorgeous said with a growl as she stepped up towards Tac. Tac took a step back. “Just cool it Gorgeous. I figured you had put this all in motion.” “Put what in motion? Your riddles are making me cranky Tac.” “Chaos, primal magic, doesn’t follow the rules, but does have an internal logic and consistency.” “I am aware,” Gorgeous said in a snippy tone. “Well then Miss Aware, what do you think happens if you contract a magical girl and none of the other magical girls, potential or contracted, are around?” Gorgeous opened her mouth, to say what she did not know, but she closed it as Tac’s question sunk in. “It would assume, as much as it could, that the other team members were gone.” Tac smiled and nodded. “Gone, defeated, but either way, the one magical girl…” “Would have to be as powerful as the entire team all by herself.” “Oh Fuck.” “You really didn’t know?” Tac asked. “This really was not your plan all along?” She shook her head. “Well, aren’t you just lucky. Team class Magical Girl. That’s you in the,” Tac smiled and laughed, “dog house.” “This is not funny Tac.” “You see, that is where you are wrong. It is funny to me.” “You contracted with Kristine.” “On your orders.” Tac continued to smile. Like the fucking cat that swallowed the canary, Gorgeous thought. “When did you know?” “Figured it out when Kristine took out that War Titan. I mean, she was pretty damn good and all before that. Figured she was a prodigy, but taking out the Titan was something you’d need a team for. So, stands to reason.” “I can’t believe this. And we…” “What do you mean we?” Gorgeous narrowed her eyes, locked her gaze on Tac. “We,” she said firmly, “dumped her in the primal chaos.” Tac did not reply to that. “What am I going to do?” It was a rhetorical question, but Tac answered, “Get a job in a hostess bar? I mean you’re not my type, but I’m sure someone would find you attractive.” Gorgeous sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose as if in pain. “Tac, let me point out that if this goes pear-shaped, you are going to be caught up in it, no matter what, seeing as you did not do your gods and goddess damned job twenty years ago. And even if you are not, a new broom sweeps clean, as they say. If you somehow manage to avoid all that, no one new is going to let you get away with the shit I have let slide.” “When you put it that way I suddenly have an opinion on this,” Tac said. “Oh? You do, do you? Pray tell, what is it?” “That we cover this up. Sell Kristine to the Duke of Threes for money and the Duke’s help in making Umon go away too.” Gorgeous stared at Tac for several seconds and then shook her head. “You are evil.” “I am self-centred and amoral.” “You sound proud of that.” “Good. So, how do we sell Kristine? I’m still her kill switch, so I want the lion’s share of whatever we get.” “Tac, you are going to shut the hell up. We are not selling Kristine out. We are going to find a way to deal with this within the system, and when it is all done, I’m going to oaky your expense account and pretend you don’t exist for a few decades in the hope that you will drink yourself to death during that time.” “Deal!” Tac said happily. Elsewhere in the Duke of Threes’ land Umon Derrypiz wandered the private, enclosed garden of the Duke’s castle. Part of the water that came off the mountains was diverted to flow through the glassed-in hall. It was as cold as the water that exited the base, and the air within the garden was frigid. Small pine trees grew among frost covered ground, and the hoarfrost on the glass walls gave the light that passed through a glacial feel. It was beautiful as it was cold. Umon did not care much for the beauty or the cold, but it was often the closest he got to being outside. He was not alone in the room. There were two ‘assistants’, a man and a woman, who trailed him wherever he went. They were guards, more so to keep him from leaving than to protect him. He paused near a glass wall, looking at the opaque, frosted glass. Blinking he thought he saw his reflection in the dull frost. Then, as if she had stepped from the glass, a small girl appeared in front of him. In her pale blue dress, and with her pale skin, he thought she might be an ice nymph. Leave it to the Duke to have something like that in his garden. He did not feel any alarm until the girl reached out and grabbed him. There was a crinkling sound, and a sour smell, like piss. He felt his stomach twist as he was carried away. It was rare that anyone disturbed the Duke of Threes when he was working. It did happen when something important happened. An invasion, or news of an attempt on his life, that kind of thing warranted such a disturbance. A guest slash prisoner being spirited away in the middle of his castle, that rated as well. He ordered the guards to begin searching for Umon and then cleared his office. The summons he then sent was answered in less than a minute. A small cat appeared outside his office, on the window sill. He opened the window, and Tahc leapt in, her form changing to that of a slim woman. “My Lord?” “Someone grabbed Derrypiz. The guards said it was like she came out of the glass and then pulled Derrypiz in.” “Teleportation,” Tahc said. “The Magical Girl.” The Duke nodded. “Yes. Of course. Where could she go? Where could she have come from?” Tahc looked thoughtful. “If it is a place that she knows, a Magical Girl of average strength can cross thousands of miles, but I don’t think she could have known your castle. She probably had to come here, somewhere close to make the attempt. However, she could be far away now.” “She could be, but she isn’t.” He turned and looked out his windows. “If she came here than she came here with Gorgeous, and perhaps others. The Magical Girl would have taken him to them. There will be questions. They will think they are somewhere safe. We have minutes. How did they enter my lands?” As he turned his gaze on Tahc, she took a step away, eyes wide, going pale for a moment. She trembled, and her form grew indistinct as if she were about to shift back to her cat form. Then, with a gasp, she said, “The Ebony Zephyr.” For a few seconds he did not know what she was talking about, then he remembered. “Damn that train,” he hissed. “Where is the station?” She asked him. “In the mountains, nearly on the other side of my kingdom.” He looked out the windows. “I will have a gate created. You will come with me.” He turned and strode from the room, calling for his guards. Tahc ran after him. Kristine appeared in the nearly deserted station. The single station employee in the ticket booth ignored her as she pushed Umon, so he ended up sprawled at Gorgeous’ feet. Gorgeous knelt down, looking down at the prostate Umon. “Well, hello there Mr Derrypiz. I think you have a lot to explain about your misuse and misappropriation of the organisation’s resources.” Umon pushed himself to his knees or tried to. Tac put a heeled shoe between his shoulder blades and pushed him back to the floor. “Bit miffed about you lying to me, pretending not to know what I was talking about, being rude.” “What do you think you are doing,” Umon grunted. For a moment Kristine thought he was angry, but she realised he was scared. She knelt down beside Gorgeous, trying to pull the short skirt of her dress down so it would cover her diaper. It was a pretty fruitless endeavour. Gorgeous looked at Tac, still standing on Umon, shook her head, then looked back to the man. “I’ll need you to tell me just how the Duke of Threes has influenced the organisation.” Umon stopped struggling to get up. He started making a sound. It took Kristine a moment to realise he was laughing. “You idiot. You think the Duke did something you can prove. He has arranged things so he can honestly say he did nothing wrong. It's all been set up, so he was never in any danger.” The laughter was bitter and sounded near tears. “Tac, get off him,” Gorgeous said. Tac frowned but took her foot from him. Umon pushed himself once more to his knees, hunching his shoulders as if expecting another kick. “What are you talking about?” Gorgeous demanded. Umon knelt there, gaze on the floor. “I didn’t notice, whenever we talked, whatever the communication, he never once acknowledged that what we were doing was wrong. Never used the word bribe, never asked if I was breaking rules. He can state clearly under the influence of a truth spell that he did nothing wrong.” Umon laughed bitterly. “All wordplay, but he will walk away guilty of nothing.” “What are you talking about?” Gorgeous demanded. “That the Duke of Threes is not stupid. He used me. I thought we were in it together, but I was really just the sacrificial lamb from the start.” Gorgeous frowned. Kristine shook her head. “That thort of thing would never work in a real court of law.” Her voice was soft, a complaint meant for only her ears. “Can’t we just ask him if he knew it was wrong? Nail him down to a yes or no answer?” That she asked louder. Gorgeous looked over at her, an expression of surprise. “You don’t get to ask a Duke yes or no answers,” Tac said. She said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “That’s thtupid.” “Is this the Nursery Knight?” Umon asked, looking at Kristine. “Shut up,” Gorgeous told him. “You are not the one asking questions here.” “That is her, in all her infantile glory,” Tac said. Gorgeous looked crossly at Tac. Tac only smiled with a shrug of her shoulders. Umon said, “Give her up to the Duke.” “We’re not giving her up.” “Not unless there is a suitable economic compensation.” “Tac shut up.” Kristine was not joining in the conversation. Something else had caught her attention. “We’re not alone,” she said. Tac became a cat and jumped up onto Kristine’s shoulder. “What?” “Coming down the stairth, trying to be quiet I think.” “The Duke of Threes' people,” Umon told them. “Give them the girl, make a deal.” “Be quiet,” Gorgeous told him, her tone sharper. Kristine had her mace in her hand, the huge, rattle shaped weapon ready. “There are a lot of them.” “Hey Kristine,” Tac said softly into her ear, “I’ll split any reward with you if you let me hand you over.” “Do you ever lithten to yourself?” “Not really.” “It explainth so much.” Umon continued to counsel surrender while Gorgeous kept telling him to stop talking. “Big Baby Thilence,” Kristine chanted. A pacifier gag suddenly appeared in Umon’s mouth. “Thank you,” Gorgeous said. “Pervert,” Tac accused. “Too bad I can’t gag you,” Kristine said to Tac as she stood ready. Looming figures, twice the size of a man, came lumbering down the stairs. They were made bulkier by the heavy armour they wore, and they all carried strange weapons that looked to Kristine like cannons. “Ogres,” Gorgeous said. “Dangerouth?” Kristine asked. “More so than Redcaps, not even close to a War Titan.” Kristine nodded. The ogres reached the bottom of the stairs, formed out in a line, weapons held out, pointed towards Kristine and the others. More soldiers followed the ogres, tall, slim people who marched down the stairs in suits of armour that shone like polished silver, muted in the shadow of the platform. They each carried a long, curving sword. Among them walked a tall man, dressed in white and gold, carrying a sword likely as long as he was tall. Even at a distance, Kristine got the feeling he was beautiful and powerful. She knew that he was the Duke of Threes. The Duke and his honour guard reached the platform, the ogres moved slightly to the side, providing a space for the Duke and those with him. The Duke’s voice filled the cathedral-like space when he spoke. “Free your prisoner and surrender to me.” Kristine was about to shout an angry denial, but Gorgeous spoke fire, her voice unnaturally loud. “Derrypiz is under arrest for misuse of organisational resources. I am taking him with me.” The Duke did not answer for a few seconds. Kristine was not sure, but she felt as if he was staring at her. It was a hungry presence, and it made her shiver slightly. Her diaper felt wet, but she was not sure if they were related. She hoped not. “Do you have a warrant to that effect?” The Duke called. He sounded bored. “I don’t need a warrant. I am the Senior Supervisor of Magical Liaisons and have the authority to make an arrest as part of any investigation.” “And if I don’t recognise your authority?” The ogres shifted their cannons to a ready position. “I don’t give a damn what you recognise,” Gorgeous snapped angrily. “He’s trying to distract us.” Tac’s soft voice was a tickle in Kristine’s ear. Kristine did not ask what and did not look about. A soft whisper, “Nurthery Camera Peek a Boo.” Scrying the area around them Kristine sought out any other threat. She found them. A small group coming up the mismatched tracks behind them. Gorgeous and the Duke of Threes continued to argue jurisdiction as the stealth attack closed on them. Kristine took a breath, then called out, “What did you do with the other Nurthery Knightth?” It was almost as if Gorgeous and the Duke had forgotten that Kristine was there, but Kristine knew that the Duke was only making a pretence. He had never forgotten her. After a few seconds, the Duke said, “The other girls are my guests and wards, under my care, as you should be as well, my dear Kristine.” Kristine bit down on an angry outburst and just said, “I am not interested in being your guetht.” “Poor Kristine, don’t you realise your ability to take care of yourself is failing? I accept responsibility for this, though of course, I had no idea that my musings would lead to this. You can lay that at the feet of Umon Derrypiz there.” Umon tried, unsuccessfully, to speak around the pacifier gag. She supposed the Duke was making a truthful statement. He could not have been one hundred percent sure that Umon would follow through on his ‘musings’. Behind them the stealth group crept onto the platform, sticking to the shadows at the edge of the room. “Why would you even want thith? The Nurthery Knightth are ridiculous!” “I find your helplessness endearing.” Kristine felt as if she should be furious, but there was something there that pushed anger down. It was like when a witness was being cross-examined. She knew that with the right question she could catch him in a lie, though as to what he was lying about she did not know. But there was no time. The stealth group was almost one them. Kristine swept out her mace, casting her spell of protection, putting a wall of crib bars between the soldiers and her. Then she spun and brought her mace crashing down on the head of something that looked like a scarecrow covered in oil, its shape uncertain and liquid. Gorgeous shouted out in surprise, seeing the new attackers. The ogres charged forward and tried to break Kristine’s shield. Kristine drove the scarecrow-like creatures around, smashing two more. Tac on her shoulder said, “We should…” Then something small flashed by Kristine’s shoulder and carried Tac off to the floor several feet away. Kristine drove more of the attackers back with her mace. She looked away from them for a moment to where a ball of hissing and yowling fur resolved itself into two black cats fighting. “Tahc,” Gorgeous called out. One of the scarecrows was trying to grab Umon. Kristine stepped close and pounded the thing into the ground. Standing over Umon, she called to Gorgeous, “Let’s go. There are more of them coming.” What was more she felt the Duke of Threes working his own magic against her barrier, working at bringing it down. Gorgeous reached into the fighting cats, earning several scratches on her arm for her effort. Yanking Tac free she then kicked the other cat, Tahc apparently, away. Carrying a still yowling Tac close to Kristine, she reached out and put her hand on Kristine’s shoulder. Kristine looked across at the Duke of Threes. The hunger had grown. She did not understand the mad desire she felt rolling off him. But there was no time to figure it out. As the barrier began to fracture and a small army of the scarecrows poured out of the tunnel onto the platform, she teleported away. Tahc rubbed at sore ribs from Gorgeous' kick as she limped back towards where the Duke stood, “She can’t have teleported far. We should search…” “Are you sure of that?” The Duke asked, interrupting her. Tahc blinked at the question. “The Nursery Knights were not that powerful, I would doubt she could jump more than…” The Duke interrupted her again. “I am the Regent of this land, my power here is nearly unassailable, and yet I had to work at breaking her barrier.” He paused and looked around, then lowered his voice and said, “And she was not even focusing on maintaining it.” Tahc had to think over what the Duke had said twice before she was certain she had heard it clearly. “She could not be that powerful. Magical Girls that powerful are almost unheard of.” “Then how would you explain that barrier?” Tahc chewed at her lip for a moment. “I can’t.” The Duke looked around the station platform, the bodies of his slaugh, smashed on the floor, and his ogres who had been useless against the barrier. “I do not think we will find her close, but we will find her.” Tahc took a step back, surprised by the vehemence in the Duke’s words. “I will have that girl, I must.” Tahc held her breath. The Duke’s whisper was not for her, and she did not want to remind him that she stood close, that she had heard him. The four of them appeared on the high tower station of the Mountain Seven. Gorgeous dropped the still hissing Tac to the ground. Tac looked around, then, after several seconds, began to groom herself as if nothing was the matter. Her still fluffed up fur made the nonchalant behaviour a lie. Gorgeous knelt down and pulled the pacifier gag out of Umon’s mouth. “Where are we?” Umon asked. “Mountain Theven,” Kristine said. “That’s impossible.” His eyes were wide. Kristine ignored him. While Gorgeous continued her interrogation of the man, heedless of the people who looked on, Kristine walked to the railing around the platform, looked out at the mountain. Why did the Duke want her? Tac jumped up onto the rail. Her fur was smooth again, though damp in places from blood. “Who is Tahc?” “My little sister,” Tac said. “Used to be a Liaison herself. Stupid little bitch quit.” Tac lifted a paw and gave the pads a lick with her raspy tongue. “Little sister? And her name is Tahc?” “Mom had no imagination,” Tac said. Kristine had to rush out of the room or mess her diaper. The questioning of Umon had not been really going anywhere, but leaving like that felt so wrong to her. As am inspiring lawyer, she would have never left such a session. But as a Nursery Knight, her bladder and bowels had different opinions. When she came back, a fresh diaper on, she found the room empty. “What the hell?” she asked aloud. “There you are,” Tac said, coming out of another room further down the hallway. She was holding a tumbler and a bottle of whisky. “Where ith Umon?” “They took him away,” Tac said as she drank back the contents of her glass. “Where? Why?” Tac filled the glass from her bottle. “Truth spell, punishment, you know, bout what you’d expect. Well, maybe not you.” “But, what about the Duke.” Tac knocked back her whisky. “What about him?” “Oh, Kristine,” Gorgeous said as she walked out of door different from the one Tac had exited from. “Where’th Umon.” Gorgeous shook her head. “Sorry, they just showed up.” “Who?” “Gorgeous’ boss, gonna sweep all this under the rug,” Tac said, pouring herself yet another glass of whisky. “They are not going to sweep it all under the rug.” Gorgeous walked to Kristine. “Umon is going to be dealt with for what he did.” “What about the Duke of Threeth?” Gorgeous did not meet Kristine’s gaze. “He’ll be asked a few questions, under a truth spell of course.” Kristine shifted to the side, so she could look up into Gorgeous’ face. “Yeth or no quethtions?” Gorgeous swallowed. Tac drank again and then asked with a laugh, “What do you think?” “I don’t think so,” Gorgeous said. She was flushed, with red in her cheeks. “How does thith thtop him from hunting me? How does it punith him?” Tac burped. “We’ll find another way to deal with him,” Gorgeous assured her. Kristine took a step back from Gorgeous. She shook her head. “I’m going to have to deal with this mythelf.” “What do you mean.” “Who cares what she means.” “I mean that if you can’t deal with the Duke of Threeth I will.” She teleported away leaving Tac and Gorgeous behind. Kristine appeared in the enclosed glass garden, where she had captured Umon. It was deserted. Well, she could change that. There were warding alarms all over. She had avoided them in teleporting in. Now she reached out and tripped them all. Kristine was certain she would not be alone for long.
  3. The story is not dead. I've just been focused on other writing projects and drawings... and its summer. Who wants to sit in front of a computer where there is so much else to do?
  4. Within the Magical Realm, it was possible to travel great distances in short times. There were the airships that speed people between different regions and even arcane devices that would teleport individuals from one part of the realm to another in but a blink of an eye. However the faster the method, the less likely one might pass unnoticed. So Kristine had been told. Which was why they were taking the Ebony Zephyr, which was a ‘dark ride’ according to Tac. Whatever that meant. When they had reached a central station, someplace that looked like it was underwater to Kristine, Gwens had left them. Kristine thought she might miss her. Gwens was the only decent Liaison. Tac was Tac, and Gorgeous was fixated on Umon, and only tangentially interested in Kristine’s problems. So Gwens concerns and kindness had been welcome, though she often had treated Kristine as if she were a child. All things considered, as she walked down a long staircase, at that moment, Kristine would not have minded if Gwens had come along. The staircase descended below a floor and Kristine could see the Ebony Zephyr’s platform. She came to a stop on the stairs. At that moment she had her pacifier in her mouth, so she was invisible to all the people around her. Usually stopping on the stairs like that might have had someone bump into her, even if she was not invisible, but she was also wearing her cloak. People just avoided her without knowing they were doing it. “Move your fat, diapered ass before someone accidentally trips into you,” Tac said from Kristine’s shoulder. Kristine almost said that her ass was not fat, but as it was diapered, she was pretty sure that would just give Tac an opening for another insult. She resumed her descent down the stairs. The reason that she had stopped was that seeing the platform allowed her to see the Ebony Zephyr, and the Ebony Zephyr was like nothing she had seen before. Well, that was a lie. It was a lot like a train, which of course she had seen before. The engine was neither the sleek diesel electrics she knew nor even the blocky steam engines of an earlier time. It looked nothing so much like an enormous metal spider. Or at least a spider that had more legs than eight. Many more legs than eight. Each of those many jointed legs ended in a wheel. Only some of the wheels were currently on the steel tracks. The rest were lifted into the air. It made her wonder of the path they were to travel that would require so many different wheels. Then, once she could tear her attention from the engine, there were the cars. All in all, they looked like train cars she was used, though there were odd angles that disappeared and new ones appeared as she walked. And down on the platform, she could see some connections were not the simple single link that she knew, but multiple linkages, some not, at that moment, connected. And then there were the wheels. It was not just a collection of single wheels that rode on the track. Behind each wheel, canted at a slightly different angle were several wheels. Like shark’s teeth. A new wheel ready to pop into place. Again she had to wonder about the tracks they would travel on. A dark ride, Tac had said. She might have dallied on the platform, just to look at this thing that was almost a train, but then was not. However, Gorgeous walked ahead of her with a no-nonsense stride, and there was no opportunity to simply stand and stare. So Kristine, other than pauses, had to follow, with her diaper crinkle and waddle unnoticed by those around her. About six cars down Gorgeous entered the train like thing. Kristine followed after her. There were six compartments in the car. Gorgeous entered the second compartment down from the entrance. The space beyond the door was much larger than one-sixth of the car. It was perhaps even larger than the car. Kristine supposed that was why the angles seemed odd and had changed. Kristine was getting used to the fact that structures in the Magical Realm were not constrained by simple three-dimensional geometry. “Well, here we are,” Gorgeous said, tossing her small bag to the floor before walking across the room and sitting down in a love seat near the windows. Tac jumped down from Kristine’s shoulder, becoming a woman upon her paws, feet, touching the carpeted floor. “Couldn’t even spring for a first class cabin?” “I am not spending agency money just so you can have some servants,” Gorgeous told Tac. “This is more than enough.” “It’s tho big,” Kristine said as she took off her cloak and let her pacifier fall from her mouth. Tac snorted as she lazily dropped into a club chair. She ran her finger across the arm and said, “Nice leather, you shouldn’t sit in these Kristine. In case your diaper leaks.” “My diaper ith not going to leak,” Kristine snapped and hated that she just said that. Tak smiled and leaned back in the chair. Gorgeous just shook her head, looking exhausted, perhaps disgusted. Was it Tac, or her, or the both of them that engendered such a look, Kristine wondered. Kristine crossed the to the curtains and twitched them to the side, so as not to reveal herself to anyone outside the train. She was surprised, no, she was shocked, so much so she let the curtain drop and took a step back. Maybe she peed a little. What she had seen out the window was not the other side of the train, but the platform she had just left. She turned, looked at the cabin door behind her, which she was certain was on the same side as the platform. Gorgeous must have guessed the reason for her consternation for she said, “The windows look out at the most interesting side of the train.” “Oh,” Kristine said. “Not that there is much interesting to see,” Tac got up from the chair. “I’m going to get something to eat. Want me to bring anything back Gorgeous?” “Whatever the lunch special is.” “What about me?” Kristine asked as Tac reached the door. Tac looked back at Kristine, smiled, “You got your magic bag full of your bottles and baby food. Eat that.” She left the room before Kristine could reply. Kristine gritted her teeth and before she could stop herself stamped her foot hard on the floor. “Don’t let her get to you,” Gorgeous said. Kristine looked at Gorgeous, still angry, and asked, tone harder than Gorgeous deserved, “And do you keep her from getting to you?” Gorgeous frowned, then shrugged her shoulders. “I try.” The Ebony Zephyr had left the station, departing so smoothly Kristine was hardly aware they were moving. When she realised that they were in motion, she pulled back the curtains, sat in one of the chairs beside the windows, and looked out. The scenery beyond was strange. Uncertain, Kristine thought after several minutes of watching. She saw a forest in the distance but was struck by the sensation that it was not quite a forest, and as a result, might stop being a forest at any moment. Only the terrain directly beside the train seemed stable. The ballast and the cess, though she could not see the rails. When she thought that she found herself looking down at the rails and the sleepers and she fell from the chair to the floor. He diaper squished under her bottom. Tac, who had returned, said, “The windows show you what is most interesting, or sometimes what you want to see. Stupid.” Kristine bit back an angry retort, recalling what Gorgeous had said. “I thee, thank you,” Kristine said as she stood. Her diaper felt heavy, hanging heavy on her slim hips. She tried not to waddle as she went to the bathroom where she had Mr Bear help her with a diaper change. As she lay on the changing pad Mr Bear had put on the floor Kristine looked at her plushie caretaker. The patchy places on his fur, where his seams had ripped, seemed a little less patchy. Hopefully he was healing, or however, it was that plushie golems recovered from damage. Back in the sitting room, she returned to her seat. She hated that she paused for a moment, looking down at the leather, worried that she would see a stain on it. She sat and looked out the windows again. Once more the strange scenery captured her attention. “Most people cannot look at it for so long,” Gorgeous said some indeterminable time later as she came to stand at Kristine’s side. Kristine looked away from the windows, noticed Tac was not there, wondered if she had left, decided she did not care. “Why?” she asked. “Out there is the primal magic that the Magical Realm came from. Infinite possibility bubbling up to form the world ad the people.” Kristine looked back out again, a sense of wonder gripping her. “For people from the Mundane Realm, it would be like floating next to one of your stars. As beautiful as it might be it is also destructive and so very bright.” “Is it becauthe I am from the Mundane Realm I can look out at it?” “It is because you are tied to it.” Kristine looked up at Gorgeous. “Normal magic would not last in the Mundane Realm. The power of Magical Girls is collected out there, in its most primal form, so chaotic it can even survive in the Mundane Realm.” “Collected?” “By Liaisons. We go out there and absorb it, incubate it, so we can pass it into Magical Girls.” Kristine looked out again. “Does anyone elthe go out there?” “Not unless they are suicidal. No, not suicidal. More that they do not want to continue existing as they are. You have to be very powerful, or made to survive out there, to not be changed by that land.” “Is that why we are taking thith route?” “With all the chaos around us, it is difficult to track anyone, once they are down here.” “Tho does anyone put agents on thith twain?” “Probably, but I doubt that should concern us.” Kristine nodded but said nothing, her attention once again caught by the scenery outside the window. She would stare out them until later, when she suddenly rushed to the bathroom, a moment away from filling the seat of her diaper. Afterwards, she was careful not to let her attention be so captured by the strange landscapes the Ebony Zephyr travelled through. Kristine did not want to stay in the cabin all the time. She did not really enjoy spending time with her travelling companions. She wandered the train, with her cloak on and hood up, no one really seeing her. Sometimes she would slip out of the cloak so she could interact with people. It was subtler than being invisible. She found the passengers odd. She knew why she and the other two were on the Ebony Zephyr. Why anyone else was, she could not really figure. No one else seemed to care for the view, and almost every window she saw had the curtains drawn, so no one had to look outside. And what Tac had said about the train being the choice of old people seemed true as well. While she could not be certain of some of the passengers, the human appearing ones did indeed look old, for the most part. Was this what retired people in the Magic Realm did? She wanted to ask but did not want to express ignorance that might give her away. And she was not about to ask Tac. So she let herself be curious, and watched people, trying to figure it out. Watching people, and the fact she went unnoticed most of the time thanks to her cloak, let her pick up on things. Get a feel for what her fellow passengers and the crew were really like. It was how she was able to spot the man, or at least man-shaped, attacker when he tried to corner Gorgeous. Kristine had spotted him the day before, two days into the trip. He had been in the dining car, which was huge, sitting alone at a table. Kristine, seated at the bar, drinking something that was like coffee, had noticed he was watching Gorgeous. As he did not do anything more than watch she discounted it. Gorgeous was an attractive woman and if some man was watching her the most innocent reason was probably the right one. However he stuck in her mind, and the next day when she saw him slip from the dining car as if attempting stealth, shortly after Gorgeous had left, she decided to follow. She hoped she would not come upon them making out. That would be embarrassing. Instead, she found them between cars, the man wrapping Gorgeous up in flexible bands dispensed by a flying device that looked like an extra large tape dispenser. The bands had gagged Gorgeous, and she could not call out, and her ability to struggle was limited. The man said to Gorgeous, “Don’t fight them or you’ll just hurt yourself.” Kristine acted quickly. Unseen she rushed up to the man, calling her mace as she did. She smashed the tape device from the air, shattering it as she knocked it to the ground. The man drew a long knife, looking around him for the source of the attack. Kristine did not want to fight on the train, or near Gorgeous. She grabbed the man by his shoulder. He was fast and slashed her across the back of her hand. He cut her, but the wound looked minor. Dismissing her mace, she pushed a curtain aside with her now free hand and looked out at the land the train was passing through. Then she teleported the man and herself out of the train. They ended up a few feet above a rocky plain. Kristine was ready for it and landed well, calling her mace back as her feet touched down. Her opponent was not so lucky, and fell onto his back. He was quick though and was back up on his feet. He slashed around himself with the long bladed knife, and spoke something guttural. Green flame erupted along the edge of the blade, dripping and splashing from the steel like gel. Where the green fire hit it hissed and burnt holes into the rock. Kristine did not want to be hit by either blade or dripping flame. She came around on his inside and slammed her mace into the hand holding the knife. He grunted in pain, and the knife fell from his hand. It was not anything approaching a fair fight. She swept his legs out from under him and then dropped the mace head on his chest. As she had learned with Cassar, the weight of the weapon was a useful tool. Kristine pushed her hood back so he would be able to see her. “Who are you?” she demanded. The man tried to twist out from under the mace. Kristine let it settle some more. He grunted in pain. “Bounty Hunter. I’m trying to capture that Gorgeous woman,” he said. “Help me and I’ll split my fee with you. I can get you more money than she could be paying you for protection.” “Who thent you?” “I can’t…” Kristine added her own strength and started pushing the weight of the mace against him. He gasped. “Cassar Red. He’s put a contract out on the woman.” “He knew she wath on the Zephyr?” “No,” he told her. “I spotted her.” “Does Cathar know.” The man shook his head. Kristine asked again, “Does Cathar know?” She shifted the mace, so a smaller surface area was pressing against him, resting on a rib. He cried out. “No. I was going to capture Gorgeous and not say anything, wait for the bounty to go up.” Kristine let up with the mace and looked around. The Ebony Zephyr had continued on, was some distance away. She took the mace away from the man and walked away. “I’ll leave you here.” “Wait! What? You can’t…” Kristine teleported back to the train, to the space between cars where Gorgeous had been, not waiting to hear anything else the man might say. She found Gorgeous in her canine form, working her way out of the wrappings. Kristine helped her, tearing them away. “Thank you,” Gorgeous said. “That man, he…” “Let’s talk about it back in the cabin. Come on.” Kristine nodded, took a moment to hide the wrappings and the broken dispenser, then followed after Gorgeous. Gorgeous opened the door to the sleeping compartment Tac used. “We need to…” she stopped. Kristine heard Tac say, “Close the door or get naked and join us.” Gorgeous closed the door. She was blushing as she turned to Kristine. “Tac is entertaining,” she said. Kristine sighed. She walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into the compartment. Grabbing the woman in bed with Tac Kristine dragged the woman from the bed, shoved her clothing into her arms, and over Tac’s angry outburst she pushed the woman out of the cabin. When she turned back, she saw Tac striding out of the sleeping compartment, naked. Kristine had never seen Tac without clothing and found herself staring at the woman’s beautiful body, hardly listening to what Tac was saying, which mostly was just insults. “Tac, shut up,” Gorgeous told her. “I was just attacked.” That seemed to get through to Tac, who ducked into the compartment and came out a short time later, once more dressed. “What the hell happened?” Gorgeous told her part of the story. Kristine told hers. “Do you think he told you the truth?” Gorgeous asked. Kristine nodded. “I think tho. He didn’t tell Cathar.” “At least we don’t have to worry about being attacked again. Unless another of Cassar’s agents gets lucky.” Kristine nodded. “So you just left him out there?” Tac said. “That’s pretty cold.” “What?” Kristine asked, then remembered what Gorgeous had told her. Tak’s lips settled into a smirk. “Might as well have killed him.” “Let it go Tac,” Gorgeous said. Kirstine, who had been standing, sat in one of the chairs as if she was a puppet whose strings had been cut. Her diaper’s padding was wet. She had not even thought about what might happen to that man when she had left him. It was not that he might die or be changed so fundamentally that he might as well be dead that bothered Kristine. She had killed a few of the Red Caps, and that War Titan, but those actions had been in the middle of battle, and with no other option. And she had not really even thought about what might happen when she had left the man. She stood, walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. “I should go and get him.” “It’s too late,” Gorgeous said. “But…” “He’s beyond help,” Tac said. “You must have left him in an unsettled area. It affected you, even after a short time. Idiot.” “What? But it does not affect Magical Girls.” Tac laughed. Kristine turned towards Gorgeous. Gorgeous shrugged her shoulders. “It has made you more of a Magical Girl, more powerful, more a Nursery Knight.” Kristine ran to the bathroom, to the mirror over the sink. For a moment she thought that Tac and Gorgeous had been playing a trick on her, for the face in the mirror was the one she had grown used to. But then Kristine noticed the lines of her jaw were softer, her eyes appearing a little larger. There had been hints of adolescent in her face, but those had been smoothed away. Her limbs were a little skinnier, and just maybe she was shorter. And her uniform had bits of lace that had not been there before. A far more babyish effect, she thought. “Looks at the bright side,” Gorgeous said from the doorway. “You are more powerful now.” Kristine turned to look at her. Perhaps another year had been erased, and Gorgeous wanted her to look on the bright side? She almost started crying. She swallowed back the tears. “Hopefully when we find Umon I will have a target for this new strength.” Tahc had once been a Liaison before she had quit. She still had friends and acquaintances in the department, and they liked to gossip. Gorgeous ran too tight of a ship for those people to tell her anything confidential, and whatever Gorgeous was doing fell under that category. Tahc had to be careful. It would be too easy to ask the wrong question or press a little too hard. If she did that, then her friends and acquaintances might start to wonder why their old friend Tahc had shown up at this time. And she could not stay too long, or try to see too many people. She had to be precise and careful. Stopping by her old office to say hello she ran into Ushima. Tahc suggested they go out for lunch and Ushima agreed. Ushima was, in animal form, oxen. She was a large, robust woman, and Tahc had to remind herself that she was not slow and dumb, because it was easy to think that she was just that. And when you let yourself believe that Ushima was an easy mark that was when you became the mark. However, she was not a predator like Tahc, and she tended to see those she worked with as part of her herd. Over lunch Tahc did most of the talking, telling Ushima what she had been up to. Most of it truthful cause she needed to prime the pump, as it were. Ushima was, in fact, one of the office’s intelligencers and collected rumour and whispers and distilled it to information. And as Tahc helped her, by giving Ushima the information she needed, Tahc’s position moved from outside of the herd to the inside of the herd. Tahc felt the change and decided it was time to strike. She made her attack carefully, simply asking, “How is everyone anyways? It has been months since I last had a chance to talk to anyone.” Relaxed, Ushima smiled and said. “Well enough. We’ve got some of the Liaisons out in the Mundane World, but things are quiet enough there. Penelope got hurt in a fight with the newest Nightmare Queen but she should recover, and Gwens is taking some recovery time.” Target acquired, Tahc thought, but it was important to distract attention from what she did not want Ushima thinking more on. “There is a new Nightmare Queen?” “Oh yes,” Ushima said with a smile. “Minor nobility from out beyond the Blood Seas, trying to prove she should inherit. Took off to the Mundane Realm to try to build up a power base. They never learn.” “You should be glad, You’d be out of a job if they did.” Ushima laughed and raised her glass. “Cheers.” Later, after lunch, Tahc went to look at some records. There was no reason why she could not ask to see them, except it would be noticed. So she had to go through a back channel, and pay a lot for confidentiality. The next day she had a copy of Gwens' records. Any Liaison who had been on Mountain Seven and had met with a War Titan might have been hurt. The records, of course, had nothing about any of Gwens recent work. Tahc would not have expected them to. She was more interested in what reason that Gorgeous might have had to include Gwens in the hunt for Umon. And then, in a list of previous missions, she found it. Or at least she thought she did. Gwens had been one of the Liaisons on the Nursery Knight Project. So that tied it all together. Though she still did not know who the possible Magical Girl with Gorgeous was. Unless Gwens was there for more than information on Umon’s part in the Nursery Knight project. “I’ll be damned,” Tahc said as she got to her feet. The Duke of Threes would be interested in this. Very interested if she was right.
  5. A great plain, covered in forests, rivers, and fields, surrounded by a vast range of mountains. These were the lands of the Duke of Threes. It was a wealthy Duchy, the peaks surrounding it were full of precious magical materials, and the enormous forests of the plain and mountains provided a never-ending resource of enchanted plant matter. Halfway up the tallest of the mountains, the three peaked ‘Crown Mountain’, just below where the tree line ended, was the seat of the Duke of Three, Crown City. The city was built up the sides of a cleft in the mountain, with bridges that arched over a fast moving river. At the end of the cleft, a waterfall several hundred feet tall roared down from the higher parts of the mountain. The Duke of Three’s castle was built near the base of the waterfall. The water entered the castle, rushing through it, turning magical gears that drove strange clockworks in the bowels of the castle. No one knew what the clockworks did, but the water that exited the base of the castle was so cold that chunks of ice floated in it. The Duke of Threes’ office was set near the top of his impossible castle. Its exterior wall was transparent, looking out over the entirety of the Duchy. When the Duke worked, he sat with his back to the vista, and it was those that sat in front of his desk that looked out at the impressive sight. The Duke of Threes was a tall, slim man, with fine, almost feminine features. Dressed often in white and gold, long blonde hair neatly styled, he was always well turned out. It was the nature of the type of being he was. His gaze swept over the people seated in front of him. His eyes were dark, like a stormy sky, none of those that sat there could meet them, and they all dropped their gazes. He was a fey creature, unearthly beautiful and in the Mundane Realm they had named his kind Sidhe, the Fair Folk. He smiled. “Well then, I think that takes care of the day’s business.” “Yes my Lord,” the senior ranking official, the Master of the Duchy’s Finances, said. There were four of them, and they stood, bowing as they stepped away from their chairs. He waved them off as a dismissal. They all left, each wishing him a good day as they passed out the door. The Duke of Threes sat back in his chair, closing a ledger in front of him. After a moment he again stood and walked to the door of his office, opening it. Beyond it was another office, bright and cheerful, with three desks neatly arranged. His personnel clerks worked there. “Brenz,” he said. The most senior of the clerks, a strange looking creature with a head like a bird, stood. “My Lord?” “Let Umon Derrypiz know I would appreciate his presence in my office, at his convenience.” His words were easy. His eyes were not. Brenz bowed. “Yes my lord.” The Duke of Threes returned to his desk, satisfied that his wishes would be carried out. He sat there, listening to the sounds of his castle, feeling the vibrations of the clockworks that spun deep within the structure. Not long after there was a knock at his door. “Enter,” the Duke of Threes called. The door was opened by Brenz who ushered Umon Derrypiz through. Brenz closed the door behind him. “Sit,” The Duke of Threes said. Umon crossed the room and took a seat. The man pulled at the lapels of his suit jacket for a moment, then put his hands on the arms of the chair, knuckles white for a moment as he gripped them hard. “Is there anything you need?” The Duke of Threes asked. Umon’s eyes widened. He quickly shook his head. “No Your Grace.” “Are you sure? You are my guest here. I would like to know that you are comfortable.” “There is nothing I need. You’ve made me quite comfortable.” “Good, good,” the Duke of Threes said with a nod. Umon shifted in his chair, unable to meet the Duke of Three’s gaze. “Your Grace is there…” “My Minister of Foreign Affairs had an interesting report for me today,” the Duke of Threes announced. Umon nodded, eyes wide. “It seems that there was some trouble at Mountain Seven. That is where your broker operates from isn’t it?” Umon nodded. “Cassar Red.” “Yes, that’s the name,” he said as if he had not already known it. “Perhaps you know something that my Minister did not? Something that ties to your problem.” The Duke of Threes smiled and leaned forward. Umon swallowed. “Yes. I was planning on telling you, after…” The Duke of Threes held up his hand, silencing Umon. “I am not accusing you of anything, just explaining. Now, tell me what you might have learned.” Nodding Umon said, “Gorgeous, she escaped the mercenaries sent after her and apparently came to Mount Seven. Cassar Red did not come out and say it, but I think he may have connected us to him.” “And why do you think this?” “Because he sent a War Titan to try to kill those that came to him.” “That seems like overkill. Not that I am necessarily against overkill.” Umon nodded, eyes still wide, face paled slightly. “Oh, do relax Umon. That is not a threat.” The Duke of Threes’ eyes did not echo his smile. Umon nodded, not looking convinced. “I was trying to confirm something before I came to you.” “And that was?” “Gorgeous might have brought a Magical Girl into our realm.” That was something that the Duke of Threes had not known or guessed, and for a moment he let the surprise show. He schooled his features and asked, “Really?” “I am not sure, it is just that it is possible. And perhaps one of the more powerful of the girls, if she could defeat a War Titan.” That was interesting, so the Duke of Threes asked, “Who is the most powerful Magical Girl in the Mundane Realm?” “That would be one of the Army Girls.” “The Army Girls?” Umon looked around, as if suddenly nervous, and then, in a low voice, he said, “Each one is powerful enough to defeat an entire army on their own. There are eight of them together, and as a group, they might be an irresistible force.” The Duke of Threes paused as he thought about that for a few seconds. “There was an enemy that required that level of force?” “No,” Umon said, voice still low, “they are a special project, almost certainly backed by the Council of Eleven, at least that is what I think. Maybe in case there is some great threat to the Mundane Realm.” “What a ridiculous thing, such powerful magic,” the Duke of Threes said with a scowl that matched the darkness in his eyes. “To provide such a thing to the Mundane World, not at all needed, I would…” He noticed that Umon had pushed himself back in his chair, fear openly on his face. The Duke of Threes calmed himself. “Not to worry. So, you think that one of these Army Girls has come here.” Umon shook his head. “No?” the Duke of Threes asked, maintaining a calm tone. Umon relaxed slightly. “Gorgeous would not bring an Army Girl here, even if she were desperate. If she did have a Magical Girl come to the Magical Realm, it would be one of the others.” “Perhaps you can find out if she has and who it is.” Umon nodded. “Good. It will be useful to know.” Umon relaxed more. “If Gorgeous has brought a Magical Girl here she may have the support of the higher-ups. That could be bad for us.” The Duke of Threes smiled. He supposed he had been waiting for a statement like that. “For us?” he asked. Umon was quiet for a few seconds, brow creased. “If this is found out, we’ll both…” “Stop right there,” the Duke of Threes said, raising his hand. “You seem to be operating under a misunderstanding. Please keep in Mind Derrypiz that I have done nothing wrong.” Umon stared, open-mouthed for a few seconds. “You bribed me,” he finally managed to say. “I did no such thing.” “But you paid me for the Nursery Knight Magical Girl Project.” “I asked for a favour and offered a gift afterwards. Did I ever use the word bribe?” “No, but…” “I had an idea, I asked you if it would be possible. I gave you a gift afterwards.” “But…” “Did I ever use the word bribe?” Umon paused, and then said, “No.” “And did you ever tell me that you were abusing your authority by creating that Magical Girl Team?” “No, but you had to know.” His tone was still polite, but there was a hint of anger. “I had to? I assure, there is no reason I had to. And, if asked under the effect of a truth spell, I can honestly say I never said the word ‘bribe’, and you never told me that what you were doing was wrong.” “You can’t be serious.” The Duke of Threes smiled. “I am offering you shelter, while you sort this unfortunate occurrence out. But if you are not able to deal with it, well, I’ll suffer a little embarrassment and nothing more. So, be sure that you do not assume that I have anything to lose and that my patience for your attempts to clean this mess up will last forever. Do we have an understanding?” “Yes Your Grace,” Umon said, biting each word off. “Good. I expect you will try to deal with Gorgeous and this possible Magical Girl?” Umon nodded. “Very good. Let me know if there is anything you need. and keep me abreast of your inquiries.” The Duke of Threes stood, and Umon had to stand as well. The Duke showed him from his office, then took his long, swallowtail coat from a hook by the door and put it on. Like his pants, shirt and cravat the coat was white and gold. Leaving his office, he dismissed the clerks as he departed. “I’ll be heading down to the Garden,” he told them as he passed out into the hallway. He headed upwards, towards the castle's roof. Just short of the stairs that would take him outside he paused and looked towards a patch of shadow. “What do you have for me Tahc?” A woman stepped from the shadow. She was slim, with a boyish figure, pretty enough. A pair of cat ears sat among her short, curly brown hair. “Nothing much my Lord. Gorgeous is smart, she’s got things tied up well in the department, little news, not even much in the way of rumour getting out of it.” “A formidable woman you would say?” “Gorgeous runs that place with an iron fist, as it were. Everyone follows the rules,” Tahc paused and added, as if thinking aloud, “Well, almost everyone.” “I would like to know what she knows, what she is planning, what she has done.” “She wants Derrypiz. He broke the rules, he has to pay. Gorgeous is fairly straightforward if you ask me.” “And I do, which is why you are here.” He paused, then asked, “Would Gorgeous bring a Magical Girl from the Mundane Realm to ours?” “Gorgeous? I wouldn’t think so. It’s not against policy, but it has always been unofficially discouraged.” “And if she did, would she bring the most powerful?” Tahc frowned. “I can’t say for sure. If she were going to break an unofficial rule, she might choose to break it right open, as it were. Or she might try to mitigate things and bring a Magical Girl of middling power. I am sorry I can't offer you more.” “Interesting,” the Duke of Threes said. “Keep looking into this. I would rather my private activities remain that way. If Derrypiz goes down, it will be somewhat embarrassing for me. If we can keep Gorgeous from making noise about this, I would appreciate it. “I will do everything I can my Lord.” “See that you do.” With that dismissal, he climbed the stairs, onto the roof, wet and misty with the spray from the waterfalls. Droplets of water fell on his hair and lashes and sparkled like gems. A chariot of ivory and gold rested on steel wheels atop the castle's highest tower. The Duke stepped up into the chariot and grasped the golden reins. In the traces in front of him, light gathered, becoming a team of three winged tigers, each the size of a draft horse. He flicked the reins, and the winged tigers of light jumped into the air, pulling the chariot up with them. He directed the tigers out of the city, passing above the city where his citizens might see him. Beyond his city he descended the mountain, flying to where the trees were thicker, and it was warmer. Down below on the lower slopes was a sheltered valley. Within the valley was a walled compound. The compound was made up of several buildings and an immaculately maintained garden. His chariot descended to a flat area of packed dirt, just beyond the wall. As it touched down on its wheels, the tigers faded way, the traces falling empty to the ground. The Duke climbed down from the chariot and walked through the open gate. Almost immediately he was nearly bowled over as a small girl charged him and wrapped her arms around him. “Duke,” she squealed, dancing from foot to foot, her diapered bottom shaking back and forth. The Duke of Threes smiled and patted the girl on her head, gently ruffling her short, black hair. “Hello Mandy, you look well.” The girl was still a child, with only the tiniest hints of the woman she would never be. She looked up at him, smiling a gap tooth smile at her. He gently took her chin, lifting it, looking at her teeth, or the one that was missing in front. “Been roughhousing with the other girls Mandy?” he asked her. She giggled and lisped, “Wufhouthing.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Well, I suppose that it will grow back soon enough.” She giggled again. “Where are the other girls?” “Pwaying hide go theek,” she said. “Well little Mandy, you had better hide or seek, shouldn’t you.” She smiled up at him. Shaking his head, he turned her about and gave her a swat on her diapered bottom to send her running off. It felt like she needed a change, but the girls were used to being in their dirty diapers. Laughing she ran off. Nearby he saw one of the nurses, a woman shaped creature nearly twelve feet tall. In the mundane realm, they would call her an ogre. He nodded to her, and she dropped low into a respectable curtsey. He knew that someone was coming up behind him before the woman spoke, “Your Grace, your presence is a pleasure.” “I recall when the girls first came here. How terrified they were of their nurses,” The Duke of Threes said, still looking after Mandy. “That is understandable Your Grace. Magical Girls are the enemy of monsters.” “Yes, I suppose. They have gotten used to them. I suppose being changed and nursed by a monster breeds fondness.” “And they are very kind, terrible as they look.” He turned towards her. “You look on the bright side of things, Colleen.” Colleen had once been human, he supposed she still was. He had kidnapped her long ago. She had been lovely, and again he supposed she still was. However, the energies in the Magic Realm had left her changed. It had changed her to something that could survive there, a process that had left its marks on her. It had taken her eyes, leaving shallow depressions and featureless skin behind. She had sight, of a sort, though the Duke did not know what she saw. So as to not disturb the girls, she wore a cloth band across where her eyes had been, in a dark blue that matched her dress. She lowered herself into a curtsey, far more graceful than that of the ogre. “How may I serve you Your Grace?” she asked, head still held low. “Stand up,” he told her, after a few seconds. “I came to look in on the girls, to let you know that the six Nursery Knight might join us soon.” “The sixth, after so long?” She sounded surprised, though without eyes to provide some clue he could never be certain what she was thinking. “Yes.” He stepped closer to her. She started breathing faster. At least he understood that. “I will need you to see to her education when she is brought here.” “Of course Your Grace, I will teach her…” He moved closer, silenced her with a kiss. He wrapped his hands around her as her knees buckled, and pushed his thigh between her legs in a tangle of skirts. She moaned against his lips. He smiled and picked her up, carrying her like a princess, across the short grass, into a nearby building; The girls’ playroom. Empty as the day was sunny and warm. There was a changing table there, of course. He bent Colleen over it, pushed her face into the diaper scented padding. She moaned again. He pushed her skirt up above her waist. She wore thick panties of a childish design. They were for him, he knew. Colleen thought that he liked children. Certainly seeing any of the girls left him hard, but it was not their youth that aroused him. It was that his power was made evident in the condition of the Nursery Knights. He thought if himself like those that kept bonsai in the Mundane Realm. Or one who might make women bind their feet. He drew Colleen's panties down her thighs and left them around her knees. It was that he denied things their growth and becoming. Releasing his belt, he undid his trousers, pulled out his hard penis. He thought of the poets and other artists that he had taken, who had never achieved their greatest works. Young lovers, separated before their love could fully blossom. Colleen was pushing her bottom back towards him in a lewd display. Colleen had been one of those young lovers. He wondered if she even remembered the boy’s face? The Duke slid into her. Colleen let out a cry like a sigh. And the Nursery Knights denied the opportunity to ever become women, to become powerful Magical Girls, to become anything other than the living dolls he had turned them into. That was what excited him. What inflamed his desires. Not their infantilised state. He brought Colleen to orgasm several times before finally allowing himself his release. As he cleaned himself up with changing supplies, Colleen slid down until she was kneeling on the floor, holding the edge of the table. After putting himself to rights, his clothing still perfect and unstained, he crouched down and gently took Colleen's head in his hands. He kissed her on her forehead. “I trust you to see to the education of the girls. No need to ever tell me what you are teaching them. Because it is you, it is the right thing.” She smiled, said in a breathy voice, “Thank you, Your Grace.” Had she eyes she might be crying. He kissed her again and then straightened and left her to recover and clean up on her own. As he stepped outside, he saw one of his girls, Betty. Likely she had been watching when he and Colleen had made love. He wondered if there was a suppressed adult in them that understood the world they would never be part of, or if they watched with the frank curiosity and innocence of children. Would that he had time to spend with the girls. Their childish antics always amused him, and the fact that it was his power that had arranged it, well, Colleen had been and was always the willing recipient of those feelings. However, things were happening faster than he liked. And there was much to do. He left the walled garden, circled around it on rough paths. A quarter way around from the gate a man waited in a clearing. He had blue skin, was dressed in grey and red and silver. He dropped to his knee. “Your Grace.” The Duke of Threes looked at him. “How goes the hunt for the sixth Nursery Knight Lotts?” “Badger and Rat are on her trail right now,” Lotts said. “On her trail? I would have expected you to have found her by now.” “There were complications Your Grace.” “Complications?” The Duke of Three pulled Lotts up to his feet, then wrapped his fingers around the man’s throat, and deadlifted him into the air with one hand. “You are my Huntsman Lotts, my Baron of the Hounds, and yet you tell me that there were complications.” “I am sorry Your Grace,” Lotts rasped out. The Duke of Threes dropped him. Lotts landed lightly, rolled back onto his heels and kept his balance. “The girl ran when Badger and Rat went to get her.” “Badger and Rat? You set Badger and Rat? Where were you?” “I was otherwise engaged, Your Grace.” “Otherwise engaged?” The Duke of Threes moved forward, grabbing Lotts’ head between his hands, placing his forehead against the other man's. It was not gentle, as it had been with Colleen. “Lotts, I understand as well as anyone the temptation that mortal women impose on a being such as we. The transient beauty and fragility is a powerful call.” He began to push in with his palms against Lotts’ temples. “But not when you are working.” “Yes Your Grace,” Lotts said in a pained tone. The Duke of Threes released him. “How close are you to finding my finial Nursery Knight?” “Badger and Rat have engaged a tracker, they are seeking her even as we speak.” Lotts rubbed at his temples. The Duke of Threes wanted to strike the man but restrained himself. “Very well. Return to the Mundane Realm, oversee this. Bring me that Nursery Knight.” “Yes Your Grace. And the packages?” “Collect them before you leave and take them with you. Deal with them as you always do.” “Yes Your Grace,” Lotts bowed low away. “Remember, I want that sixth Magical Girl. Do whatever it takes.”
  6. I am glad people liked the picture. Mr Bear was supposed to be leaning against Kristine's ankle reading a law book. Will have to update. I've tried reducing the number of 's' replaced with 'th' to make the sentences easier to parse, while maintaining an in text artifact of Kristine's lisp. Let me know what you think. No one stopped them from leaving Cassar Red’s residence. They found Tac and Gorgeous waiting for them. “Let’s go back to the inn; we can tell you what we found out,” Gwens told the other two. Kristine did not mind. She wanted to change her wet diaper. It felt a little saggier than she was used to. Mr Bear was much better at putting diapers on her than she was herself. Later, after Kristine had changed, the four of them sat around a table in a back room at the inn. “So, you find out anything useful or has this been an incredible waste of my time,” Tac asked. “Not that I am not used to Gorgeous wasting my time.” “Thut up Tac,” Kristine said. “Cassar Red told us that he was paid in True Gold.” Tac sat up straighter. “Damn.” “What ith tho thpecial about True Gold?” Kristine asked. “It’s not gold,” Gorgeous said. “True Gold is created by an alchemical process, and is one of the most magical of materials.” “The weaponised plutonium of out world,” Tac told her. “And therefore easily traceable,” Gorgeous told her. “But what if thomeone is counterfeiting it, or whatever?” The three women stared at Kristine as if she had just said the stupidest thing ever. She was seized by a desire to pop her pacifier in her mouth and disappear. She took a deep breath. “Why wouldn’t anyone?” “The Great Eleven,” Gwens told her. “Last time someone tried they killed him, his family out to three relations, his friends and their families out to three relations.” “That’th horrible.” “They are deadly serious about True Gold. No one but an insane person would try to counterfeit, and there is no way an insane person could.” Gorgeous’ tone made it clear she believed what she was saying. “Sound mind, sound body if you want to make True Gold,” Tac told her, leaning back in her chair. “So if Red told you he got paid in True Gold, we can find out where it came from.” “That is certainly going to make him look bad.” Gwens did not sound as if she was talking to them and more like she was thinking out loud. “I would not think he would ignore it.” “What’s he going to do? You already kicked his ass,” Tac said. At that moment it was as if the room exploded. Kristine was tossed through the air, her ears ringing. She bounced hard, things crunching under her as her armoured clothing smashed what was softer than it. Finally sliding to a stop, Kristine was lying face first in the dirt, her butt sticking up in the air. She hurt. Like a too hard day of physical labour hurt, with every muscle in her body protesting. She pushed herself up, rolled over onto her padded bottom and looked around. Perhaps a hundred feet from where she lay she saw the inn, but a large part of it had been smashed open. Something impossibly tall stood close to the destruction, looking around, its eyes glowing like searchlights. Its foot, easily the size of an SUV, kicked at the walls of the inn, destroying more of the building as the light from its eyes fell upon the wreckage. She had no idea what the giant was, other than a giant obviously, but she did not take well to being attacked. After calling her mace to her hand she teleported across the distance, appearing near one of its feet. She swung the heavy weapon out, figuring she would smash its feet so it would fall and put its head where she could reach it. Once, when she had been a kid, Kristine had taken an old wooden baseball bat and swung it as hard as she could against a tree. She did not recall why she had done such a thing, probably for a stupid, childish reason, but she did remember how much it had hurt her hands. The childhood sting in her palms now seemed like a gentle caress in her memory. Pain shot up her arms to her shoulders and she would bet a few of her fingers broke. The giant kicked her. No, to say it kicked her would suggest some intent on its part to hurt her. The action seemed more careless, even harmless, like a flick of a foot to chase off a kitten licking your toes. However, that flick sent Kristine flying again, this time crashing through at least one or two other buildings before she slammed into another and came to a stop about two hundred yards away. The light from the giant’s eyes fell on her. “What the hell are you doing? You really are a stupid baby,” Tac said from nearby. “I’m fighting the giant, and I am not a thtupid baby.” She pushed herself from the wreckage of the wall she had hit. She shook out her still stinging hands. The giant took a step towards her. That one step easily covered fifty feet. She was sure the ground should have shaken with that step, but it did not. She guessed it could not have snuck up on them if every footfall had been like an earthquake. Really unfair. “That’s not a giant you idiot,” Tac told her. “That is a War Titan. Its probably the most powerful thing on this mountain.” The War Titan took another step. “Teleport us out of here. Down to the station.” “Where are Gorgeouth and Gwenth?” She looked around. “Dead, probably. Who cares? We’re alive. Let’s stay that way miss pissy pants.” The War Titan took another step. It was much closer now. It looked down at Kristine. “I am not leaving them,” she told Tac, and ignoring the pain in her fingers she gripped her mace again. She teleported. This time high up, close to its head. It would be sure to feel this, she thought, slamming the weapon down onto a nose larger than she. And maybe the War Titan did feel it. But to Kristine, it looked as if she had not even hit that nose. No blood, breaks or bruising. But it did snap up a hand and slapped her down really hard, so it must have noticed. Kristine hit the ground hand, bounced, crashed through more buildings, was pretty sure some ribs broke. Her head was ringing even louder, and for several long seconds, she could not breathe. “It is going to kill you if you stay here any longer,” Tac said, leaping up onto a wrecked wall that had stopped her tumble in a bone bruising manner. “You’d need a team of combat focused Magical Girls with another team of support Magical Girls to take that thing down. Kristine was tempted to believe the Cat. “So let’s get out of here before it kills us.” Kristine got to her feet. She almost collapsed when a stabbing pain in her knee threatened to fold the joint under her. This was worse than when that monster had beaten her up when she had been purely mundane. “I am not leaving them,” she said. She wiped some blood from her face, probably from her nose. “You are an idiot,” Tac told her. The area around them lit up. The War Titan had crossed to them unheard, was staring down at them. Kristine spotted Gorgeous hobbling from a wrecked building nearby, supporting an insensible Gwens. “I’m not leaving them,” she said again, but as she stared up at the War Titan, she was not sure what she was going to do. Tac was right, it was the most powerful thing on the mountain. The War Titan pulled back its arm and lowering itself by dropping to one knee; it fired the punch at Kristine. Or maybe not the most powerful? “Mr Bear!” Kristine shouted. The teddy bear appeared in front of her, between the War Titan and Kristine. The bear stood about twenty feet tall, as large as Kristine had ever seen it. It was still smaller than the War Titan. The punch that hit Mr Bear drove the plushie back almost to where Kristine stood, snapped its seams and forced stuffing out of those rips. “The bear will never hold it back,” Tac shouted from some distance away, having already fled. Kristine knew that but ignored Tac. “Teddy Bear Pi’nic,” she shouted. Bears of shadow appeared all over the War Titan, grabbing it and punching at it. They were not doing it any real harm. However, it was, for a moment, distracted. Kristine Teleported up behind the War Titan’s head. She dropped upon the nape of its neck. She believed the War Titan was not aware of her for it did not react to her presence. Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, Kristine visualised what she wanted to do and then... She Pulled. It was the only way she could think of what she was doing. Her magic was like a muscle, and she was straining it for all it was worth. Kristine felt as if she was lifting something heavy. Too heavy for her and if she kept trying to lift it than something was going to tear. She did not stop though. Kristine was straining so hard she started to wet her diaper without noticing. Then, just as it felt something must inevitably rupture, Kristine, in effect, lifted a great weight. She teleported herself and the War Titan far into the sky above the mountain. The air around them was frigid and thin. Kristine released her hold on the War Titan and kicked away from it. The War Titan lifted its head, raising its chin until it was looking back at Kristine over its forehead. The two of them fell through the thin air. Kristine raised her hand and, with numb fingers, raised her hand and gave it the finger. Somewhere nearby there was a flash if light and a rumble. Kristine teleported back to the ground. When she landed, she fell hard to her knees. “Ow.” “What did you do?” Tac asked. Kristine lifted her hand, pointed up. There was a flash of light that lit up the clouds above them and then a boom that rattled windows. “What the hell?” Tac asked. There was another flash and a boom. “The Storm Eagles,” Gorgeous said from not too far off. “Tearing apart anything that flieth above the mountain,” Kristine said. She tried to smile, but it hurt too much. “Well shit,” Tac said as another flash lit up the area around them. Kristine pointing arm fell to her side as she passed out. When Kristine woke, she was one something soft and warm. Eyes still closed she snuggled up against it, ignoring the twinges of pain. She heard talking nearby. Recognised the voices Tac and Gorgeous. They were talking about what had happened, about any other threats that might appear. Kristine opened her eyes. She was in Mr Bears large, soft arms. He rocked her gently, and she felt tiny and very safe. Mr Bear looked down at her. She noticed a few patches of thin fur on him, likely were his seams had split and his stuffing had escaped. “Thank you,” she said softly. Mr Bear said nothing. He never did. He did however jam the nipple of what was easily a gallon sized baby bottle into her mouth. Kristine at first tried to spit it out, but Mr Bear held her and shifted the bottle around, so the nipple stayed firmly in her mouth. Then, as she tasted the bottle’s contents, which was like milk, but so much better, she found herself sucking at the nipple. At first to get a bit of a taste, to see if it was as delicious as she thought, and then, well, then she was just nursing without really thinking. She closed her eyes, sucking on the nipple, as Mr Bear gently rocked her. As her tummy filled the myriad of little pains faded and she started to feel energised. When she finished, Mr Bear had her up on his shoulder, patting her back and rubbing the back of her diaper until she burped with a blush. However, Mr Bear was not finished with her. Putting her back on his lap he proceeded to spoon feed her. Skillfully and without pause he pushed the baby food into her mouth. Again, she wanted to resist, but the taste and the way she almost craved it, had her eating each spoon-full. Finally, she had been fed to Mr Bear’s satisfaction and, after wiping her chin, he took her off his lap and placed her on her feet. Her tummy was almost painfully full, but all her injuries were healed, and her clothes neat and presentable. Mr Bear patted her on the head and then popped back to plushie size before falling into the diaper bag. Kristine closed the bag, which she had not summoned, and then dismissed it. “So the baby is all fed,” Tac said. Kirstine told Tac to, “Thut up.” Tac laughed. Gwens was sitting nearby, she was holding a bandage up to her forehead. “Are you all right Gwenth?” Gwens nodded. “Should be fine soon, thanks for saving me.” “Yes,” Gorgeous said. “That was quick thinking.” “Thank you,” Kristine said. For the moment they were treating her seriously. “Can you get us out of here now?” Tac asked. “Now that you’ve had your nap?” Kristine saw no point in yelling at Tac, so she instead just held out her hand. “Back to the tranthit station?” “Yes,” Gorgeous said as she helped Gwens up. Tac turned into a cat and jumped up onto Kristine’s shoulder. Gorgeous took her hand, her other arm wrapped around Gwens’ shoulders. Kristine envisioned the station’s platform and teleported away. One moment they were on the mountain, the next on the station's raised platform. Gorgeous released her hold on Kirstine’s hand and directed Gwens over to a bench. Tac jumped down and became a woman again. “I’m going to get us tickets on the first ship out of here,” Gorgeous said as she walked towards the ticket booths. Kristine took a seat beside Gwens. Her diaper crinkled under her as the padding compressed a little under her bottom. She pulled furtively at the hem of her baby dress, as if she could hide her diaper. “Were the other Nurthery Knights really that helpleth?” Gwens looked at her. She smiled sadly and nodded. “I suppose the magic made it difficult for them to develop. They always seemed much like they were when they became magical girls.” Kristine looked around to make sure Tac was not close. “Do you think I am going to regress.” She spoke carefully and through sheer act of will kept the lisp out of her words. Gwens shook her head. “I don’t know.” Kristine wanted to ask Gwens so many questions, and she wanted to pour out her worries out to the woman, but there was no time. Gorgeous was walking towards them, tickets in her hand. Tac was walking back towards her. Kristine stood, offered a hand to Gwens. “I got us a ride out of here. Leaves in two minutes.” “Where does it go?” Tac asked. “Who cares,” Gorgeous told her. “Fair enough,” Kristine said. “Not like I would know where we were going anyway.” They had a small, private compartment to themselves on the airship. Crowding in the four of them sat nearly knee to knee. Gorgeous spoke first. “Well, before we were interrupted…” Her matter of fact tone set Kristine, Gwens, and even Tac laughing. The three other woman, without their own Mr Bear to take care of them, still looked a little rough. Small scratches, bruises, damaged clothing. Gorgeous waited for them to stop laughing before continuing. “I suspect that Cassar pulled out his most powerful weapon. I would not be surprised if the news her had a War Titan working for him might even come as a surprise to people who probably feel that they should have known.” Kristine wondered who those ‘people’ were. Gwens and Tac seemed to accept the statement, so Kristine did not have an opportunity to ask. “He has some competitors that will be looking closely at him,” Gwens said. “Especially if we give them a reason to, all for a modest finder’s fee,” Tac said. Gorgeous shifted her attention to Tac, fixing her with an unblinking stare. Tac responded with a lazy shrug. “Girl’s got to have options.” Gorgeous seemed to give up for she turned away from Tac. “I suppose if he had sent out a War Titan and won that would have been one thing, but to send one out and lose…” “Ith he going to thwear revenge or anything?” Kristine asked. “I suppose he is not pleased with you, but him swearing revenge and him being able to do anything about it are two different things. I suspect that his resources will be being spent mostly to keep his competitors from his throat.” “Does a squid have a throat?” Gwens asked suddenly. No one answered her. “The real issue is Derrypiz, who is bound to hear that we met with Cassar and may have learned something as to where he is.” “Becauthe of the True Gold,” Kristine said, “and that it is eathily traced.” Gorgeous nodded. “So we may be very close to finding him, and he will know that.” “And he will try hard to do away with Gorgeous cause she is meddling,” Tac said, “so we still have time to abandon her.” “Shut up Tac,” Gorgeous, Gwens and Kristine all said at once. Kristine, of course, said ‘thut’. “Impressive and creepy at the same time,” Tac said but did not offer any other suggestions about running away. “How do we twathe the True Gold?” Kristine asked. “I have contacts that I could ask,” Gorgeous said, “but we already have a line of investigation.” “We do?” Kristine asked. “The Crown and Sword, the Duke of Threes,” Gwens said to Kristine in the same tone one might use to say to a toddler, ‘the cow goes moo’, and she made it worse by adding, “Remember?” Kristine was careful not to sigh. She could not really blame Gwens. “I remember.” “Even if the Duke of Threes did not give those coins to Derrypiz, he will be interested in learning that someone has used his coins to pay for something like this. He can track his coins far better than anyone else. However, I think the trail will end at the Duke.” She shook her head. “Why?” Kristine asked. “The Duke of Three likes mortals,” Gwens said. “So he liketh humanth? That doesn’t thound so bad.” The three looked at Kristine. “He likes them in the way a crazy cat lady likes cats,” Tac told her. “Oh,” Kristine said. “I am sure you heard stories about fair folk kidnapping humans and taking them away under their fairy hills?” Kristine looked towards Gorgeous and nodded. “The Duke of Threes is likely the one who is behind that.” “It was always considered rather pointless,” Gwens said. “Kidnapping ith pointleth?” “No,” Tac said, “that he thought he could keep humans alive here.” “The energies of the Magical Realm are not particularly kind to mortals,” Gorgeous told her. “Regular humans tend to die, wasting away, or they are changed into something that is not really human any longer.” “And then the Duke of Threes ith not longer interethted in them?” Gorgeous nodded. “That’th sick.” Kristine pounded her fist against her arm rest. The material cracked. “He’s all Catherine the Great and her horses,” Tac said lazily. Gwens and Gorgeous did not seem to understand the reference. “Figureth you would have heard that thtory,” Kristine said. “And who are you to thay that when you were going after Olivia?” Tac’s smile grew lazier if such a thing were possible. “Are baby’s diapers still in a knot cause this kitty got some?” “You are a bitch Tac!” Kristine yelled as she shifted forward, nearly putting her nose next to Tac’s. “Little girls get claw out spankings when they talk like that,” Tac told her, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’ll take you up in the sky above Mountain Theven and let the Thtorm Eagleth play with you.” “I’d sink my claws into you and take you with me bitch,” Tac told her, barring teeth. “Will you two just either fuck or fight already?” Gorgeous told them. “This thing between you, what ever it is, is getting exhausting. Grow the hell up!” Kristine turned towards Gorgeous, opened her mouth, to defend herself. After all, she was the victim. But Gorgeous just raised her hand. “I don’t want to hear it. We have some planning to do, and unless you want to end up with the Duke of Threes zoo, you might want to take it seriously.” “Baby got scolded,” Tac said softly. Kristine noted Gorgeous did not say anything to her, but she supposed Gorgeous had been banging her head against that wall that was Tac long enough that she might want to take a break from it. Kristine sat back down, not noticing the slight squelch from her diapers. “Do we just go to the Duke of Threeth lands?” “He will be watching for us, if he is behind this. We may have to take a more circumspect route.” “What about the Ebony Zephyr?” Gwens asked. “Only old retired people with nothing better to do and the painfully dull take the Ebony Zephyr,” Tac said. “My class took a school trip on the Ebony Zephyr.” Gwens' tone was defensive. “You just walk right into these things, don’t you.” Tac was sneering as she looked at Gwens. Birds and cats, Kristine thought. “It’s a good idea,” Gorgeous said. “You are painfully dull I’ll admit.” “Tac, you are the only one in love with the sound of your voice.” Tac sat back with a rude noise as if offended that anyone could not be in love with her voice. “Old and retired is true, it also means powerful and influential. Even if the Duke of Threes thinks to have someone watching the Ebony Zephyr he won’t do anything about it. It will give us a clear run into this lands.” “What about when you are in hith landth?” Kristine asked, who thought it sounded a bit like walking into the lion’s den. “Once we are in his lands he is accountable for anything that happens to us. And I am an official of a moderately important organisation. He will think twice before he will do anything.” He will think twice, but he might still do something, Kristine thought. “I’ll admit that the Ebony Zephyr is the best option.” Tac did not look pleased to be admitting any such thing. “When this airship reaches its destination we’ll go dark as we can. Get a ride to the central station and then get on the Ebony Zephyr,” Gorgeous said. “Perhaps I should go back to the office,” Gwens suggested. Gorgeous nodded. “You did take a harder hit than the rest of us. Rest up and little and make sure we’ve got some backup if we need it.” “I know who to talk to." “You’re just assuming I’m coming along?” Tac asked. “As long as Kristine is coming you are coming,” Gorgeous said. “You’re still her liaison.” Tac made a disgusted sound. Kristine did not like it that Gorgeous just assumed she was coming, but at the same time, she could not fault her. It was not as if she had a choice. And it would be childish to argue. She did not want to do anything that might make her look childish. More childish. “I think,” Gwens said, “that Kristine was perhaps a little to focused on our talk.” There was a moment of confusion before everyone in the compartment realised what Gwens was getting at. Kristine was the last to recognise that she had messed her diapers. She was shocked that she had done it without noticing. “It’s all that milk and food Mr Bear fed you,” Gwens said with an understanding smile. “It heals you up, but it has to go somewhere.” She stood. “Let’s go find some place where your Mr Bear can get you cleaned up.” For a moment it looked like she was going to take Kristine’s hand like Kristine was a little girl who had to be led around. Which was likely true for the other Nursery Knights. She stopped herself just short of her fingers closing around Kristine’s hand, and Gwens drew her hand back, a small, apologetic smile on her face. “Right,” Kristine said as if it was perfectly reasonable and she was not humiliated. As she left the compartment she heard Tac say, “Gorgeous, next job you set me up for, make sure it is not a glorified babysitter and that my Magical Girl does not shit her pants every ten minutes.” The compartment door closed before Kristine could respond.
  7. Thanks for writing. The lisping effect might be too much. I could just remove it and occasionally just mention she is lisping. "Well this is crap," she lisped. I could use the effect a little less. Maybe no more than once per sentence. "Well this ith crap." And then just keep it like it is and hopefully it won't turn anyone off. Thanks for all the feedback everyone has sent and the comments offered, happy to hear it.
  8. The creatures that came into the old warehouse were strange to Kristine, terrible looking. Grey skin, and long, beak-like noses. They all wore pointed, red hats, with slim chains hanging from them. Each carried a blade, similar in design to a butcher’s knife, but much longer. “Lucky you,” Tac said softly into Kristine’s ear. “Redcaps. Don’t hold back with them, they’re not protected by any treaties and will kill you if they get the chance.” Kristine did not answer, she slid her pacifier into her mouth. She waited until she knew that all the Redcaps had entered. As she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, she teleported behind the last of the Redcap. She hit him with her mace, knocking him to the ground at the same moment she teleported away. The Redcaps spun on the sound. Panicked jabbering as they looked at their fallen comrade. Then the biggest bellowed, “Enough. Spread out, watch each other’s flanks.” At his orders the panic was gone, or at least not being openly displayed. Kristine next teleported above their heads and dropped upon the leader, her mace catching him hard across the shoulder. He roared and spun, his knife cutting out at his attacker. Kristine was already gone, teleported away to the far right of their line of advance where she took out another of the Redcaps while their leader provided her with a distraction. “Someone’s playing with us, playing games,” the leader snarled. His right arm hung limply at his side. “Back to back, no one takes us unawares!” “Bergons is dead or out,” a runty Redcap said, looking at the sprawled form of Kristine’s latest victim. “Blood and guts! Have they sent us up against a Paladin or something?” “A Paladin?” The Redcap that spoke had a quaver in his voice. “Shut your gob! It was just a thought. No one would send us against Paladin.” Once more the angry tone of their leader quieted the voice of fear among the Redcaps, and they advanced into the warehouse. Kristine watched them, heart beating fast, trying to control her breathing. It was terrifying, but exhilarating at the same time. She felt strong and powerful. She forgot her wet diaper. Teleporting just to the side of the leader, she swung up with her mace at the Redcap to his side. The weapon caught the creature hard, snapping its head up and back, lifting it off of its feet. Kristine was gone before the leader’s sword-sized knife cut through where she had been. Behind them, she hit another Redcap twice before teleporting again. She listened as their leader barked angrily at the Redcaps that still stood, bullying and threatening them back into a defensive line. “You’re really doing a number on them,” Tac said, jumping up beside where Kristine hid. “They’re gonna bweak thoon,” she lisped. “Uh huh.” “Gotta time it jutht wight.” “Time what?” Kirstine did not answer. She teleported once more, her mace sending another Redcap spinning in a boneless heap to crash into another. Another teleport and she poked one of the bigger Redcaps in its chest with the end of her mace, hard enough to dent the armour it wore. As the air whooshed out of its lungs, she grabbed it and teleported away. The leader was swearing and cursing. Kristine knew he was near breaking. She hung up in the rafters above them with one hand, holding the wheezing Redcap with the other. She spat out her pacifier, which fell to dangle on the end of its ribbon. The Redcap looked up at her, the cloak making his gaze slide away from her, not wanting to see her. Kristine shook her cloak's hood away. When she saw his eyes widen she let him go. The Redcap screamed, “Magical Girl,” as he fell, and then landed with a crash on top of his leader. They broke. They screamed. They ran. Kristine put the pacifier back in her mouth and then went after them. Trying not think of the ones that she had killed Kristine secured the remaining Redcaps, locking them up in magically summoned, adult-sized car seats, gagged with pacifiers and hands secured in locking mittens. “See what sort of a pervert I have to deal with,” Tac said to Gorgeous and Gwens. “Hey!” Kristine snapped. “Thith ithn’t what I want.” “It is the nature of the magic of the Nursery Knights,” Gwens explained. “Thank you,” Kristine said. “We need to get them to talk,” Gorgeous said. “Kristine can sit her messy diaper on one their faces until they talk,” Tac said. Kristine was about to snap something angry, but she paused, wondering if her diaper was messy. “Don’t be disgusting Tac,” Gorgeous told her. “You have any ideas how to make a Redcap talk?” The two, Gorgeous and Gwens looked at one another as if looking to see if the other had an answer. Kristine sighed. “They’re bullieth.” “Yes, a little.” Gorgeous nodded. “A strong leader keeps them in line.” Turning towards where the leader was trussed up Kristine regarded him for several seconds. She walked towards him, then grabbed him and his seat up, lifting him to her shoulder. It was amazing how strong she was. She supposed it was not surprising, considering that she easily lifted a mace as big as she was. It might look like an oversized plastic rattle, but it whatever it was made of was as robust and as heavy as hardened steel. “What are you doing?” Gorgeous asked her. “A little thidebar dithcuthion.” Kristine walked up a set of stairs towards the upper level of the warehouse. She summoned her magic bag and was not surprised to find it had what she wanted in it. Calling Mr Bear, she got the Redcap hung up in a baby bouncer. Then she dismissed Mr Bear and the bag. Alone she gave the bouncer a spin, so the Redcap was hanging upside down. Satisfied she had things set up Kristine slapped the Redcap hard on the face until it finally woke. Gagged as it was by the pacifier, it could only make noises at her. She waited until it went silent and then she walked closer and pulled the pacifier from its mouth. “Hi,” she said. “I will kill you. I will soak my cap in your blood.” Kristine felt a shiver of fear go through her. This creature was a monster under the bed, the thing that hid in shadows. She should be terrified. And she was scared. It would be stupid to not be. But she also felt confident. “Do you think you could work againtht a Liaithon and the Magical Girlth in the Mundane Realm would do nothing?” She was sure she saw some doubt in his expression. You never lied, but you could let someone’s imagination work against them. And it was harder to reject a question than a statement. “And don’t think that they would thend the motht powerful Magical Girl to deal wif it?” More doubt, but it was followed by bluster. “I don’t care how powerful you are! I’ll kill you.” “Weally? Kill me? I jutht waid out all your men in like thirty theconds without bweaking a thweat. Tho I can’t thay I am weally afwaid of you. And I don’t even haf to beat you up.” She stared at him. “I could change you into a doll. That’th what a Magical Girl who lookth like me doeth. An ugly doll that I will put up on a thhelf and bwing down when I am bored to pway tea party wif.” Her lisp seemed to be getting worse. The thought seemed to lodge itself in his brain. Toxic masculinity, Kristine thought. Before he could bluster at her some more, she lifted her skirt. “I’ll keep the ugly dolly in diaperth juth like thethe.” She hoped she was not blushing. The Redcap, hanging upside down, went pale in the face. Odd as the blood should be rushing to his head. “I’ll…” “Kill me, yeth, I know, you thaid it tho many timeth. But wittle dolly Wedcap won’t be doing anything but thitting up on a thhelf in a cute wittle diaper.” He sputtered and stuttered, eyes wide. Kristine was a little surprised that the Redcap seemed to be believing it, which made her wonder if she could actually do it. She was almost tempted to try it. She reached out and pulled the Redcap’s cap off, having to give it a yank as it did not seem to want to come free. She ran her fingers through the stringy hair. “I’ll put thith up in cute pigtailth.” That seemed to be the breaking point. She poked at the battered Redcap's psyche some more and soon had a name. Pushing the pacifier back into the Redcap’s mouth she said, “Jutht hang around here and be a good wittle Wedcap, or you’ll be an ugly wittle doll.” She left the Redcap trussed up and walked back down the stairs to where Tac and the others waited. “He thaid he wath hired by thomeone named Cathar Red.” “He gave up his employer?” Tac was wide-eyed with surprise. “Did you sit your dirty diaper on his face after all?” “Got to hell Tac!” “Cassar Red?” Gorgeous asked. Kristine looked away form Tac to Gorgeous and nodded. “Who’s he?” Tac asked. “A broker.” “A bwoker of what?” “Of everything. If you want something, he will get it for you, or at least try. A band of Redcaps would be easy. This is useful.” “How?” “Because Derrypiz had to have arranged this so Cassar Red will be able to tell us where Derrypiz is.” “Weally?” Kristine was doubtful. “He deals in favours. We are going to not kill any more of his Redcap mercenaries, and we are not going to tell the world that a Magical Girl defeated them and got their leader to talk. For that, he is going to let us know what we want.” “I’m doubtful,” Tac said. “Do you have a better idea?” Gorgeous countered. “Lots, but I suppose hiding out in a hostess bar until this all blows over is not one you are going to go along with?” Gorgeous shook her head. “Hey, let’s go see this Cassar Red guy so he can murder us all then.” “He’th not going to murder uth all,” Kristine said. “Oh?” “I mean, I’ll let him murder you, jutht cauthe.” Tac held out her right hand, her fingernails looking more claw-like than they had a moment before. “Does someone want another spanking?” Kristine decided not to push it. The Redcaps were locked up and left behind. Gorgeous did not seem to be worried. ‘Cassar can send someone to free them. It’s not like they will starve anytime soon.’ Tac rode on Kristine’s shoulder, Gwens on her other, Gorgeous, in the form of a long-limbed desert dog walked at her side. They were protected by Kristine’s cloak. No one looked at them. They had to walk widdershins around a transit station three times before they could board an airship. “Express Clipper,” Gorgeous said once they had reached the cabin and she had taken her human form. “We’ll outpace any news of ourselves on our way to Cassar.” Kristine thought to ask how that was possible but decided she would just be told magic. “Can I maybe go back to being mythelf?” she asked. Training panties and her regular clothing were a much better option than diapers and her ridiculous magical girl outfit. “Sure, if you want to be ripped apart by the magic here,” Tac told her, still in cat form. “It would solve all our problems.” “Can I get a new companion?” She asked Gorgeous. Gorgeous did not answer but instead asked Tac, “Why do all your magical girls ask for a new companion.” “It’s a gift. I have a low tolerance for their shit. In all cases before Kristine here that has just been a metaphor.” “Oh fuck you.” “Watch that mouth little girl or Mr Bear might be shoving a big bar of soap into it.” “Tac is right you know. The plushie guardians do seem to want a certain kind of behaviour. You really should not push it.” Gewns had taken her human form and a seat. “You’d think Mr Bear would have an issue with me killing Redcaps then.” “Well, your job is to fight monsters,” Gwens told her, tone making it clear she expected Kristine to know that. What a bunch of magical bitches, Kristine thought. “Excuse me,” Kristine said as she got up. Their cabin had its own bathroom, and Kristine entered and locked the door. She wanted a moment alone before she hit any of the magical liaisons. She also needed to change her diaper. She summoned the magical bag and pulled Mr Bear out of it. A moment later the bear assumed its larger size. Kristine did not have to tell Mr Bear what she wanted. He rolled out the changing mat and lay her down on it. His clumsy looking paws were surprisingly adroit, and as always he soon had her in a clean diaper, back on her feet, and smoothing her dress down. “Thank you, Mr Bear, wuv you,” she said. Mr Bear shrunk back to his plushie toy size and fell into the bag. She dismissed the bag and left the bathroom. In the cabin Gorgeous, Gewns and Tac were arguing. “You are kidding yourself Gorgeous,” Tac told her, “if you think this mess will just stop at Derrypiz.” “You honestly think that his superiors, our superiors knew what he was doing?” “That is exactly what I am saying. They all just need to get their beaks wet, only some offence Gwens.” “You’re an asshole Tac.” Gwens was reading a newspaper and did not look up from it. “Umon Derrypiz is a lone operator who had gotten away with it, until now.” Kristine took a seat, fresh and clean diaper crinkling under her bottom. “I bet you a cushy desk job that Umon rolls over on at least three higher ups when we get him.” Gorgeous did not answer. “So you are not so confident,” Tac had a canary-eating grin on her face. “And what do I get when it turns out I am right?” “What do you want? Sex. I’m really good at it you know.” Maybe Gorgeous blushed. Maybe not. Sounding like she was growling, she said, “Your resignation.” “What?” Tac asked. “I can’t fire your ass, but you can resign.” “Now wait a moment…” “So you are not so confident,” Gorgeous said in a tone that mirrored that Tac had earlier used. “Meh, what do I care about a desk job.” “Maybe you two can just kill each other and get it over with,” Gwens said, shaking the paper with a snap and then turning a page. “Tho,” Kristine said, interrupting, “how doeth thith all affect me?” “Always all about you,” Tac said. “The grownups are taking here.” “All it theems the grown… all it theems you are doing is arguing.” “If Derrypiz is working alone we hand him over and find out who paid him and why. We remove the threat to you in the Mundane World. No more hunters.” “And if he ith not working alone?” Gorgeous did not answer. “Than we don’t know who to trust,” Tac told her. “And maybe a decision is made to make us all disappear.” “Dithappear?” “Euphemism for killing us. Oh a euphemism means…” “I know what a euphemithm meanth,” Kristine snapped. “No need to throw a tantrum.” Kristine was about to swear a blue streak at Tac but recalled what had been said earlier about Mr Bear and soap. “Will you both shut up,” Gorgeous said to them. Into the silence, she continued, “If there are more people involved we’ll take this to one of the Great Eleven.” “The Great Eleven?” “They are the most powerful beings in the Magical Realm. So powerful they are beyond petty politics and graft. All they care about is that things in the Magical Realm do not get too chaotic.” “Tho why don’t we go directly to them?” “Because they solve problems by making them go away, literally,” Tac said. “If we haven’t made an effort to sort things out ourselves then we are part of the problem. We’ll be lucky if they don’t turn us all into frogs, or magical baby girls like Kristine here.” Kristine’s jaw firmed, and her eyes narrowed. She wondered if she could wipe that smirk off Tac’s face before the Liaison got a hand on her. Knocking Tac down might be worth the spanking. “Shut up Tac, you are not helping,” Gorgeous told her. “All Powers Forfend that she actually be helpful,” Gwens said. “We will talk to Cassar Red. We will find Umon Derrypiz,” Gorgeous told them. “And then we will understand the situation. There is no arguing this.” Tac sat back in her seat, with a ‘hmph’ sound. She looked like she was pouting. Kristine sat back in her seat and looked across at Gwens, still behind the paper. She started reading the stories on the front and back pages. When Gwens was finished, she asked to borrow the paper. “Oh,” Gwens said, handing the paper over, “you can read.” “Ith that tho thurprithing?” “None of the Nursery Knights ever managed it last I had heard.” Tac giggled. The express clipper docked at the top of a tower station that had to be more than a thousand meters tall. But the tower was dwarfed by the mountain on which lower slopes the station was built. Kristine stood at the railing, staring up at the incredible sight. The forest-clad slopes of the mountain swept up, into the clouds. “Holy thit,” Kristine whispered. “It’s called Mountain Seven,” Gorgeous told her. “Mountain Theven?” “The Seventh Member of the Great Eleven makes her home at the summit. We shall not be going there.” “Thank all the Powers,” Tac said. Kristine looked down, saw the tiny forms of people, a path that led up the sides of the mountain, under the trees. She looked up, for some sign of a ropeway, or the magical equivalent of helicopters. “How do we get up there?” “Most people walk,” Gorgeous told her. “They don’t fly?” Kristine did not like the idea of walking, well, she would be waddling, up the mountain. “You don’t fly up the slopes of Mountain Seven,” Gwens said and shivered. “The Storm Eagles pick off any fliers and shred them.” Kristine was about to ask what a Storm Eagle was, it seemed important, but Tac interrupted, saying, “You’ll teleport us up the slope.” “The Thtorm Eagleth won’t attack?” “As long as your feet start and end on the mountain when you Teleport the Eagles won’t react,” Gwens told her. The three Liaisons took their animal forms and crowded around Kristine. Tac said into her ear, “See up the slope, to the left, the brown looking patch in the green?” “I thee it,” Kristine said after a moment. “That is the third rest stop. Teleport us up there.” Kristine narrowed her eyes, setting the place firmly in her mind. Then she stepped. It was suddenly cold around, more so than it had been on the station tower. A biting wind went right up the ridiculously short skirt of her magical girl outfit. Around her were many beings. Some looked human, and many did not. She supposed they were resting. It reminded her of a campsite, with small, cabin-like huts around the perimeter, and fire pits and benches towards the centre. There were also food booths set up, and others that sold a wide variety of things, from walking sticks to rain hats. “Doeth anyone live here?” Kristine asked aloud around her pacifier. None of the beings around her noticed or heard her. “There are villages and towns built on the slopes,” Tac told her. “You come here if you are looking for something that is only made on Mountain Seven. The only good stuff is above the mist line.” Kristine looked up, to where the mountain was obscured by clouds. “Take up to that scar, just below the where the clouds come down,” Tac told her. Kristine nodded and made her next teleport. It was even colder up there, and the air was damp. Kristine pulled her cloak tighter around herself. “We’ll be walking for a little bit now,” Gorgeous said, back in her human form. Kristine stared up in the clouds, looking for a break that might give her a new teleport target, but it was too thick. She followed after Gorgeous, waddling and crinkling as she went. A damp and cold hour later they came to the next rest stop. Kristine sat down upon one of the benches, feeling the wet padding of her diaper squish beneath her. “We can get ahead,” Tac said, looking up. Kristine looked up as well and saw the clouds had blown away over the clearing, giving her a view of the sky, and some of the mountain. Kristine picked another area and teleported them farther up the mountain. Then ended up on an area of the mountain, bare rock, as if there had been a recent landslide, overlooking the trail. “We’re close,” Gorgeous said. “We walk the rest of the way.” Easy for her to say, Kristine thought, as she was not wearing a chafing diaper. The path had a noticeable grade, and while Kristine did not feel the burning in her thighs from lifting her feet to make the climb, she could have done without the wet diaper on her ass. Gwens rode on Kristine’s shoulder, not taking a chance at flying even a few feet above the ground, while Gorgeous and Tac walked ahead, shifting their forms in places were four legs were more convenient than two, or vice-versa. Kristine felt a pressure in her bottom as she climbed. Before becoming a Magical Girl, she would not have worried. Holding a bowel movement for a few hours might have been uncomfortable, but she had been quite capable of it. Now she knew she could not trust herself to avoid filling the seat of her diaper. And as bad as that would be she did not want to end up pawing her dirty diaper like she had on that rooftop. “Ith there a plathe we could retht up around here?” Kristine asked, trying to keep her tone neutral as if the answer really did not matter to her. “There is a town called Steel ahead, it is where Cassar Red lives, I think. We could rest, but I would rather go straight to his home, just to be sure we will arrive ahead of any news.” “Don’t you get it Gorgeous,” Tac said from a few steps ahead, “Little Kristine has to go potty before she makes a big mess in her diapers.” Kristine flushed as Gorgeous said, “Oh, well I suppose a stop would be in order.” Gwens jumped down from Kristine’s shoulder and took her human form. She put a hand on Kristine’s shoulder and said to the others, “Show some compassion. It is not her fault she lost her potty training. Don’t worry Kristine,” she smiled, “we’ll get to Steel soon. Just hold out a little bit more, okay sweetie?” Kristine nodded, of two minds about the thing. While Gwens was treating her kindly, she was treating her as if she was a little girl. Maybe Gorgeous’ indifference and Tac’s cutting remarks were better. But she clenched her buttocks as best she could and continued up the trail. Her mind was taken off her bottom when she smelt something in the air. Smoke, metal and fire. “What ith that?” She sniffed obviously. “Your diaper?” Tac said, not looking back. Gorgeous ignored Tac and told Kristine, “The forges. They make magic weapons in steel. The smiths only sell to people willing to climb four or five days to get here.” “Four or five dayth?” Kristine asked. “We moved a lot faster thanks to your teleporting of us.” Kristine nodded. Close to Steel Kristine could see the glow of forges, and hear the sound of metal on metal as the smiths made their weapons. Close to Steel’s main gate was an inn where Gorgeous got them rooms. Kristine ran up the stairs, clutching the room key tightly in her hand, unable to keep her other hand from pressing against the back of her diaper as if that would hold back the mess. In her room’s bathroom, she pulled off the wet, and little messy, diaper and sat down on the toilet. She let out a sigh of relief. The soiled diaper lay on the floor, the shorts streaks of brown indicating that she had not been entirely successful, but at least it was not as bad as it could be. “Fuck,” she said softly. “I’m happy that I only pooped my diaper a little.” Standing Kristine grabbed some paper and wiped herself clean. She called her magic bag and took out a clean diaper, put it on herself as best she could. Mr Bear, of course, would do a better job, but always letting Mr Bear take care of her seemed a little like giving up. Down in the common-room, the three liaisons were sitting around a table, drinks and finger foods in front of them. “Hey stinky, need a sippy cup?” Tac asked as Kristine approached the table. Kristine gave Tac the finger and then sat down. “Tho what are we going to do?” “Cassar Red’s home is apparently near the far edge of the town,” Gorgeous said. “We’ll go there and see if we can talk to him. Once we meet him, I suppose we’ll see what he does.” It did not sound like a great plan to Kristine, but she supposed she could not offer better. She nodded. “I underthtand.” “Unless someone has something to say.” Tac opened her mouth. “Something intelligent and useful to say.” Tac closed her mouth. “Then let’s go,” Gorgeous said. The four of them got up, left the inn, started walking across the town. The night was often lit by the glow of forges, and the sound of metal on metal, outside of the inn, was loud. Kristine saw people and monsters, though she supposed the monsters were people, working in and around the forges. She and the other stepped to the side of the road as a thing like a minotaur came by, pushing a heavy cart full of metal. The far side of the town was more residential, the sound of work grew fainter, the citizens around were more often out for relaxing walks, perhaps on their way to some entertainment. The structure that Gorgeous led them to was made up of five cubes, four balanced on the corners of the one which sat on the ground. It was like some sort of cubist flower. Tac asked, “We just all going to walk in there?” Gorgeous seemed to think about that. “Perhaps that would not be wise.” “Kristine and I can go in,” Gwens said. “They might recognise Gorgeous, and Tac is useless.” “Tell me about it,” Kristine said softly. “Sounds good,” Gorgeous told them. “What did you say?” Tac asked, but everyone ignored her. Kristine and Gwens approached a set of tall doors on the base cube. Gwens reached out and tapped on the door. The doors opened inwards, beyond the threshold was a room of white tiles and wall panels. There was a desk and chair, the only piece of furniture. Behind it sat a woman, red skinned with a pair of horns growing up from her forehead. “Can I help you?” she asked, looking up as they entered. “We’d like to speak to Cassar Red,” Gewns told the woman. “I see. What would you like to speak to Cassar about?” “The current status of some of his employees.” “The current status?” “Tied up,” Christine supplied. The woman seemed to consider that, then asked, “Which employees would these be?” “We would like to discuss that with Cassar Red.” “You are seeking some sort of reward?” Gwens and Kristine nodded. “I understand,” she said, then got to her feet. “Please come with me.” One of the wall panels was actually a door, which opened to a set of stairs. They climbed it, Kristine wondered if her diapers were crinkling louder than usual and hated the thought that she thought of the rustle as ‘usual’. The stairs let out on the top of the cube, the woman leading them to one of the cubes balanced on the base. There was a mirror on the corner, reflecting them and the area behind them. “Through here,” the horned woman said, stepping up to and then through the mirror. Kristine, who had been following close, paused in front of the mirror, the idea of trying to step through glass clashing with her understanding of a logical world. Though of course, she was no longer in a logical world. “Hurry up,” Gwens said, giving her a gentle push on the small of her back. She sounded like she was talking to a child. Kristine stepped forward. She did not bang her face on a glass pane, but passed through, feeling for a moment tingling on her skin. It was as if she had stepped into the reflection. The space around her exactly as it had been reflected in the mirror. She stood atop a cube, four cubes around her balanced on the edges. Around her were the town and the mountain. The only difference was the two people who stood there. The horned woman and a thing that looked a little like a flying, pink squid about the size of a cow. Kristine knew she should be stepping forward, introducing herself, perhaps taking one of the squid’s tentacles in a firm handshake. Instead for a few more seconds she just looked at the area around her. It had to be some sort of illusion, but could it be that she had stepped into another world, an exact copy of the one she had just left? With magic, it could be possible. And what would that mean? Had a reflection of herself stepped out of the mirror into the world she had just left. She was rudely shaken from her thoughts by Gwens cupping of the rear of her diaper, giving it a light squeeze. Kristine looked over her shoulder at the other woman. Gwens, for her part, looked a little surprised. “Sorry,” she said softly, “when one of the Nursery Knights got a faraway look it was often because they were…” she trailed off. Kristine knew she was blushing. She turned back to the woman and the squid. The woman who wanted to be a lawyer knew they had just entered this negotiation in a position of weakness. On the other party's property, her staring around like an idiot, Gwens checking her diaper, the evident fact that she and Gwens were not used to working together. She was going to have to be on her game. Stepping forward, as if the last ten or twenty-seconds had not happened, Kristine said, “Cathar Red?” “I am.” The voice came from the squid, so Kristine assumed it had spoken. “My name is Krithtine, and this is Gwenth. We had a recent dealing with thome Redcapth that were in your employ.” “Miss Villis, you may leave us now,” Cassar Red said. The horned woman dipped her head politely to the squid and then left, passing out through the mirror. Kristine was relieved that a copy of the woman did not step back to replace the one that had left. So, no mirror image copies to deal with, that was one less worry. Realizing she had no time to indulge in such fancies, and worrying for a moment that her ability of focus on things was suffering as much as her toilet training, she took the lead and said, “The Redcapth have been detained in a location that we will provide you. I apologithe in advanthe for the condition of thome of them.” “And what condition would that be?” “Dead,” Gwens said. Kristine nodded, pleased with how Gwens had come in like that. She noted that the colour of the squid changed to a deeper pink. Anger? Surprise? Am undigested bit of hearing? Forget a poker face, the squid did not have a face at all. Kristine would have to be careful not to assume anything. “You come here and tell me that you killed my employees?” Cassar Red demanded. At least the tone of voice sounded like he was demanding. “In thelf defenthe,” Kristine said. “They were trying to kill uth.” “Do you think that makes a difference?” The squid’s colour darkened further, perhaps getting closer to a red. “It doeth to me,” Kristine said. “And it would to any arbiter that was asked to look into it,” Gwens added. Cassar Red’s colour faded back to a lighter pink. “You will tell me where these Redcaps are?” “Of course,” Gwens said, and then provided the location of the warehouse. Kristine might have liked to ask for something before giving out that information, but she could work with the situation. That first piece of information would be the bait. “I suppothe you might value our dithcretion.” Kristine tried to take a relaxed posture. Hard to manage in a diaper and a toddler dress, but she liked the think she managed. “Oh?” The Squid drifted closer. “Discretion about what?” “That your Redcapth were thpanked like naughty children and provided jutht as much of a challenge.” The squid’s colour darkened again. “And what would that discretion cost?” “We know that Umon Derrypiz hired you, we don’t care if you deny it. Let us know where Derrpiz is, and we won’t say anything about your Redcaps.” Gwens had taken a step forward, closer to Cassar Red. “Giving up a client, if this Derrpiz is even a client, would be bad for business. There are agreements after all.” “What ith the agreement?” Kristine asked. Cassar Red’s body turned toward Kristine. “What does it matter?” “Humour me,” Kristine said. Maybe they did not have a legal system as Kristine might have studied, but verbal contracts were still a type of contract. “If Redcaps are involved than it is the death of the target, and then making that target disappear.” Kristine recalled the teeth in the mouth of the Redcaps and thought, ‘Ouch.’ “Nothing elthe? No obtaining any pothethionth? Not bringing him anything?” “Redcaps are simple creatures. They are sent on straightforward jobs and are cheap for it.” “So you can afford to have their skills called into question? That seems unlikely,” Gwens said. “It would be a problem.” Tentacles snapped out like whips, deadly bone razors at the ends promising an unpleasant fate if hit by them. Kristine supposed she should have expected something like that. Anyone who hired out mercenaries to kill people would probably have no problem with killing people themselves. However, she had no intention of being killed. Her rattle mace in her hands knocked the tentacles aside, stepping in close and slamming the weapon down on the squid. It was knocked to the ground, bounced off the surface. Its colour faded to a pink so light it was almost white. She hoped that meant it was scared. “Cwib time thafe thpathe,” Kristine called out. Around them, the crib like bars appeared. She was not about to let Cassar Red run. Cassar Red did not seem to see it that way, for it rose into the air and flashed towards the mirror that Kristien and Gwens had entered through. However, the crib bars were up to stopping a high-speed squid the size of a cow. It hit the bars and then bounced off them. The squid went a dark red as it rose and spun on Kristine. “Release me!” it screamed as its tentacles speared out towards Kristine. Kristine moved like a dancer, like a woman who did not have a thick diaper taped around her bottom. She knocked tentacles aside and stepped around the shorter arms. Closing on Cassar Red she hit him a glancing blow that sent him spinning off. “Todayth the day the teddy bearth haf their pi’nic,” Kristine sang out. Around her shadows began to clump together. With a pop, those clumping shadows became giant teddy bears, about twelve of them. The bears gambolled across the roof, eight of them grabbing Cassar Red’s suckered arms, another two his tentacles, and the last two wresting the body to the surface. It only took moments, and they had the squid locked down. Kristine walked over to the struggling squid, looked it over, and then gave it a hard kick in its beak. It made strange sounds and thrashed uselessly. The angry red faded to an almost perfect white. She lowered her mace gently, placing the head on the squid, then slowly letting the weight settle on its body. “Tho, do you want to tell uth anything?” With a voice that trembled Cassar Red said, “What are you?” “I’m the pithed off girl with the mathe and the bearth that are about to thee what it taketh to rip one of your tentacleth off.” One of the bears, obedient, began to pull on one of the squid's arms. “No, please, stop,” Cassar Red cried out. Kristine squatted down, aware of the bulk of her diaper and how it spread out her knees. She looked the squid in one of its black eyes. “Tho, let’th be fair,” Kristine said. “I don’t want you to bweak your contract. How can you tell uth what we know and thtill thay you kept your word?” “I can’t. There is no way.” Kristine nodded, and the bear gave the arm a twist and harder pull. It did not tear off, but there was an unpleasant sound. “Ever heard of thuthhi? Cometh from the mundane world. I’m quite a fan.” “I can tell you how he paid,” Cassar Red said, voice panicked and pained. “Theems of little uthe. Do you think I could find thome wathabi around here?” “He paid in gold. True Gold. Minted with the crown and the sword.” Kristine looked over her shoulder at Gwens. Gwen nodded. Kristine straightened with a crinkle of diapers and a slight squish of her padding. She lifted her mace and then snapped her fingers. The bears all faded away. The squid remained laying on the roof. “Let’th hope we never have to meet again,” Kristine told Cassar Red and stepped over him, treading on two arms and a tentacle. The crib bars faded away, the way to the mirror clear. Gwens gave Cassar Red a wider berth and followed Kristine through the mirror. “How did you do that?” Gwens asked as they came out on the roof of the cube they had started on. “Do what?” “Fight like that. The Nursery Knights were, well, pretty useless.” “Maybe if you had waited until they were a little older,” Kristine told her and caused her mace to disappear. “What is the point of True Gold, with the crown and the sword?” “Only the dukes and more powerful leaders can mint True Gold coins, and they keep them like misers. The crown and the sword belong to the Duke of Threes.” “Tho we jutht follow the money. Thith is juth like my world.” Gwens looked at her for a moment, her expression suggesting confusion. “Yes, I guess. Come on, let’s hope we are not attacked. We should tell Gorgeous and Tac about this.”
  9. If I were going to sit down and work seriously with the Diaper Dimension and wanted to introduce how aging works with Littles I might try giving Littles a circular life span. For whatever reason, recessive gene, magic, something else, Littles start aging backwards after they hit a certain point. It does away with questions of elderly littles being abandoned (which is a perfectly fine theme to explore but does not interest me) and offers a reason why Amazons and Inbetweeners believe that Littles should be treated like babies. After all, once they hit thirty or forty it is all regression back to that state anyway. To a Little they might figure they can live an adult life from later teens to early forties and then back to their early teens. That gives them about 40 years of adult hood and contributing to society, and then maybe fifteen year of regression/retirement. To Amazons why bother, you're cute now, lets just put all that silly idea of a life aside and keep you in the nursery. And Littles, who know the nursery is their fate for the last five or six years of their life would be more pissed (no pun intended) about having those 40 years of maturity taken away. YMMV
  10. YourFNF, thank you for taking the time to read and comment. And another nice picture ausdpr. I certainly would not be opposed to anyone who wanted to illustrate the story Ellie52, but I don't see it happening.
  11. I have always liked this story. It is fun to read. In the back of my mind that was the school that Chase sent Emily to.
  12. InkuHime

    Just a Picture

    Not only can you stay up late, I insist. And you will be able to drink champagne from the bottle, and I have a special New Year's outfit for you. It is going to be so fun and you'll be certain to enjoy it. And here's something for the year of the dog. Now say thank you. (Looks like there is a limit to the size of images I can post here so I'll be deleting older images to upload ones in the future)
  13. InkuHime

    Just a Picture

    Looks like some pictures I posed disappeared, so reposting a few May be limited in how many images I can post, so deleted some to test
  14. A Too Late Magical Girl - In the Magical Realm All around her were impossibilities. An inverted pyramid, many times grander than anything in Egypt, balanced on its point, spinning slowly. Buildings (what else could they be?) floated overhead, like clouds. A lake with water so clear that Kristine could see the buildings far below the surface, as well as the people passing between. Tac had muttered, ‘Damed kelpies.’ There was too much to see in this impossible city. Kristine could not help herself as she stared up at it, and down at it, and all around at it. She was not really watching where she was going and should have been a hazard to all the other foot traffic, but people avoided her. Kristine was not offended by that, because the people, the denizens of the Magical Realm, were not aware that they were avoiding her. She was invisible, for her pacifier was in her mouth, but she was also wearing a magical cloak. Tac had shown her how to make the cloak, to tie the magic of the exclusion field into the object. She was not actually sure if Tac should have taught her how to make magical items. She got the feeling that Tac was just too lazy to do it herself. However, with the cloak people just avoided her, and with the pacifier, no one saw her. When not staring at the buildings she was instead looking at the people. Some of them looked human, for the most part, though many, like Tac, had ears or tails or some other feature that marked them out as not really being human. Many of them did not look human at all, much taller or much smaller, animal-headed, or quadruped, hexapod or more legs than she could count quickly. Some were beyond anything she understood. There were slimes, and balls of gas, and glittering lights that bobbed along at head level and people talked to. “I think my mind thould be bweaking,” she muttered around her pacifier when she and Tac walked up a set of narrow stairs, and no one was around to hear them. Her thick diaper made walking up the stairs a little more difficult, and she knew she was climbing with a pronounced waddle. She had a desire, not too strong, but there, to drop down to all fours and crawl up them. “Magical Girls have their minds toughened up with their bodies. They often see terrible things.” Tac’s tone was light. “Thouldn’t thome people be able to thee me? Morw powaful magic people?” She recalled what Oscar had told her of truth spells and powers. Tac stopped at a landing, looked out over the city. The stairs had taken them higher than the number of steps they had climbed. “Everyone in your world can run, right?” Kristine nodded, but did not know if Tac could see it, so she voiced a lisping, ‘Yeth.” “But not everyone can run really, really fast. You’re running really, really fast so not many people can catch up to you.” “Wait, you mean Magical Girlth are weally powaful?” Tac nodded and started walking up the stairs. “But why?” Kristine followed with her wide, waddling steps. “I don’t really know,” Tac told her, “but if it were me, then I would have done it because it is pretty funny.” “Funny?” “Well, each Magical Girl is kind of like a magical weapon of mass destruction. That’s funny right?” Kristine stopped her waddling climb, watched Tac continue climbing, with a smooth step and the almost hypnotic sway of her hips. “You're a weal bitch,” she said. Not looking back Tac said, “Watch your mouth little girl, or you might get a bar of soap shoved up your ass.” Tac stopped and looked back, smiling. Her teeth were cat teeth, and they looked somewhat dangerous. “Mouth.” Kristine shuffled nervously. “Thoap goeth in the mouth.” Tac was still smiling. “Oh, silly little girl. It would end up in your mouth, eventually.” Turning way Tac continued walking up the stairs. Kristine followed, wondering if all magical liaisons were as bad as Tac. She had to doubt it. Madness lay in assuming they were all like Tac. At the top of the stairs, Tac turned and looked out at her favourite view in all the Great City. It was her favourite view because it was the view from the area in the city with the greatest concentration of hostess bars. Though there was only one hostess bar that Tac wanted to visit. The Naga’s Nest. Knowing Kristine was following her, Tac pushed through the doors. “Mama-san, I’m back,” Tac said. “It’s Tac, it’s Tac,” several bunny eared girls squealed happily. Some of them were sitting with customers who looked confused or even displeased by the fact their table mates were paying attention to someone else. However, their excitement was dampened as Mama said one word. “Girls.” They all calmed down. Mama entered the room from behind the bar, her lower snake body slithering in a manner Tac often thought was seductive. She moved up to Tac. “If you have a method of payment, welcome. If not, there is no charity here.” “Oh Mama-san, you know I would never expect charity.” though Tac would certainly welcome it considering how much money she had spent there. She reached into her jacket and removed her card. The naga took the card, looked at it. “This is limited, and only for official business.” “I am here on official business.” Tac smiled. She was not at all surprised that Mama-san knew the status of the card just by looking at it. Mama-san nodded after a moment. “One bottle and one girl.” Tac could not hide her disappointment. “Just one?” she asked, pouting ever so slightly. Mama-san’s look was severe as she nodded. “Oh well, as long as the girl is pretty.” “All my girls are pretty. Clover.” A girl who was indeed pretty and who Tac had never seen before appeared as if by magic (quite probably magic). “Mama-san?” she asked. “Please escort Tac to a table and show her a good time.” “Yes, Mama-san.” Clover took Tac’s arm, pulled it into her ample breasts as she pressed herself against Tac. “This way please.” “It is good to be home.” Clover led her to one of the smaller booths. Not a booth where Tac might sit among six or more of the pretty bunny girls. Three would be the best that might squeeze in. Clover slipped up tight against her, all smiles and pretty words. Tac knew that Kristine had seated herself opposite. She could not see Kristine, but as a liaison, she always had a sense of where her girl was. A bottle of catnip whisky was placed on the table with two glasses. “Would you like a drink Clover my dear?” “Yes please.” Mama-san’s girls could handle their liquor. They drank a lot of it to make sure customers ordered a lot. Tac pulled the cork free of the bottle and then lifted it up, putting it in her mouth. With a mouthful of whisky, she turned her head towards Clover. The bunny girl parted her lips and Tac moved in for the kiss. As they shared a whisky flavoured kiss Tac’s hand slipped between the Clover’s legs, and soon skilled fingers elicited a moan from Clover as a trickle of whisky ran down the bunny girl's chin. It was at that moment Tac decided to put a little show on for Kristine. Let the Nursery Knight know precisely what she was missing. Leaving her one hand between Clover’s legs Tac grabbed the bottle with her other and took another drink. Bottle back on the table, she pulled the bunny girl’s top down, began placing whisky wet kisses across the top of her breasts and on her nipples. Mama-san’s girls did not have to put up with the sort of thing that Tac was doing, but they could if they wanted to. And for all of Tac’s many failings (and she had so very many), she knew how to give pleasure. As she drew more moans from Clover, she hoped that Kristine was soaking her diapers with something other than piss. The girl had been a whiny little bitch from the start, as far as Tac was concerned. Learning what she was missing would be a good lesson for her. “Oh, Tac, please,” Clover said. “Does my little bunny want to cum?” Tac whispered into her ear, gently nibbling on it, resisting the urge to draw a little blood (it was the cat in her). Mama-san did not stand for her girls bleeding. “Yes, yes,” Clover begged. “Well then, let me see what I can do.” She started pulling the short little skirt up when someone hit her on the head. Hard. “What the fuck?” she wondered if Kristine had finally gotten too hot and bothered, or maybe Mama-san was putting a stop to it. However, it turned out to be Gorgeous standing there, looking pissed off. Clover, seeming unaware, begged, “Please Tac, please.” It would just be cruel to leave the poor girl like that so Tac, ignoring Gorgeous, finished Clover. Then, because Mama-san did not like things to get too loud, kissed her, stifling the bunny girl’s cries. And when Clover finally slumped bonelessly on the booth’s bench Tac stood up. “What the hell Gorgeous?” “What are you doing here?” Gorgeous hissed. Tac noticed Mama-san was hovering close, so she waved her off and then grabbed Gorgeous by the arm. “Mama-san, put that whisky away for me, and thank you very much.” The Naga nodded as Tac led Gorgeous from the bar. Outside Gorgeous again demanded, “What the hell were you doing in there?” “I think what I was doing in there was obvious. I was keeping the package hidden in a place no one would ever look.” Gorgeous looked surprised, then suspicious. “Is sh.. the package here?” “Yep. Now, let’s go back into the bar and continue to keep the package out of sight.” She started directing Gorgeous back. Gorgeous dug in her heels, as it were, and pulled Tac to a stop. “No, you’re coming with me. We have things to discuss. I already have a safe house set up.” And reversing the hold Tac had on her Gorgeous started dragging Tac away. “You’re such a cock blocker Gorgeous.” “You don’t have a cock.” That was said between clenched teeth. “You don’t know what I might have in jars at home,” Tac replied. Watching Tac bring the bunny girl to a climax reminded Kristine of Olive. Of their last night together, or Tac saying she was going to seduce Olive, or Tac telling her that she had sex with the magical girls under her care. She was squirming in her diaper, fighting the urge to spread her legs and start rubbing the padding against herself. And then the woman appeared who hit Tac, which surprised Kristine enough that she forgot how horny she felt for a few seconds, long enough to get some control of herself. The woman looked about, and Kristine thought the woman might be able to see her but then her gaze passed over Kristine without acknowledgement. The muffled cries of the bunny girl brought her attention back to Tac and her conquest. As Tac stood, the bunny girl slid down on the bench, legs spread, skirt up around her waist, top down around her waist, lying there with a dreamy look on her face. Kristine pictured herself there, dressed in a more mature magical girl outfit. She almost moaned. But Tac had already told her that Kristine’s youthful form was of no interest. Maybe if she begged and promised to be good? God damn, she hated Tac at that moment, really hated her. How dare such a selfish, incompetent idiot be some sort of master of pleasure. She got up and waddled after Tac and the other woman, hating and loving the way the padding of her diaper rubbed against her. Outside, as Tac and the woman talked Kristine managed to get her feelings in order. She still wished she had some privacy, but she no longer felt like begging Tac for a similar attention that she gave Clover, or not as much so. Then Tac and the other woman, who was named Gorgeous, were walking off and Kristine waddled after them. She wished she knew where they were going so she could just teleport there. She listened to Tac and Gorgeous argue in low tones, mostly about the fact that Tac was pretty terrible at her job. This was not a surprise to Kristine. They did not talk about anything significant, or any mention of the package, which Kristine was sure meant her. Gorgeous led Tac, and Kristine who was following close, onto a train, and Kristine took a seat. The padding of her diaper felt squishier and thicker than it had at the hostess bar, but at least it did not feel messy. The car was not very crowded, but she kept an eye out in case anyone tried to sit on her. She thought that no one would, because of the cloak, but it was better to be safe than sorry. After about twenty minutes on the train, Gorgeous led them off, into a part of the city less built up, and lower than the area they had been in. “We’re in here,” Gorgeous said to Tac as she stopped in front of a building that looked something like a small warehouse. When she opened the door, holding it open for several seconds so that Kristine could enter. The empty space within reinforced Kristine’s idea that it was a warehouse. “She is here, this isn’t some half-ass job of yours again, is it?” Gorgeous asked Tac. “Of course she is here. Kristine, you can show yourself.” Kristine removed the cloak first and then spat out the pacifier. Gorgeous was looking away from where Kristine was but must have caught Kristine appearing out of the corner of her eye. She turned, eyes widening. “That is the most ridiculous magical girl outfit I have ever seen.” Gorgeous suddenly shook her head. “Sorry, I should not have said that. I was just surprised. I did not think the Nursery Knights would be so literal.” “You’re not forgiven.” Kristine was more than a little pissed off. “Yes, I understand. My name is Gorgeous, I am the supervisor of all magical liaisons. I apologise for my behaviour. I do not have any say in the themes of the Magical Girl teams but should have taken the time to look into it. My statement was unprofessional.” “You don’t need to waste an apology on Kristine,” Tac said. Kristine noted that she was not the only one looking at Tac with a scowl. “Tac ith terrible,” Kristine told Gorgeous. “I know.” “Hey! That kind of hurts.” “But Tac’s many shortcomings are secondary to this,” Gorgeous continued. “We need to understand what is happening here. I have called for someone else who should be able to help us. She should be here soon.” Kristine nodded, then, cheeks warming up just a little, she asked, “Ith there a bathwoom awound here I can uthe?” “You mean a changing table,” Tac muttered, Kristine almost missing it. “Back there.” Gorgeous pointed. “Thank you,” Kristine said, trying to walk as fast as she could without a diaper waddle. For a moment she was worried that a bathroom in the magical realm would be some crazy thing, but opening the door she was presented with something that looked normal enough. Her diaper came off, and she sat down on the toilet. As always she did not really know well if she needed it, but she figured she would take advantage of it. After almost two minutes with nothing happening, she got up from the toilet, summoned her diaper bag, and pulled out a new diaper. She put it on, taping it up awkwardly but it was good enough. Dismissing the bag she left the washroom. Tac and Gorgeous were arguing, but it had the sound of an old argument, probably about the fact that Tac sucked at her job. Gorgeous turned to Kristine as she approached. “I have not had an opportunity to say it yet, but thank you for coming to help with our inquiries.” “I did not think I weally had a choithe, theeing ath there were people coming to the mundane wealm to kidnap me.” “Yes, I suppose so.” “Can you do thomething about it?” “I am, what I can. We need information now.” There was a scratching sound at the door. “That would be Gwens.” Gorgeous walked to the door. She unlocked it and then pushed it open. A large, black raven hopped in. Gorgeous closed the door, and the Raven became a young woman with hair as black as the Raven’s feathers. “Gorgeous. I am here.” “Gwens, you, of course, know Tac.” Gwens nodded. “And this is the Nursery Knight Kristine.” Gwens shifted her attention to Christine. She stared and blinked several times. “You made an adult person a Nursery Knight?” She asked the question of Tac. “I think it is pretty clear I did.” “How could you?” “Hey, it was Gorgeous that told me to.” Kristine looked towards Gorgeous. Gorgeous raised her hands. “I needed Tac to learn a lesson.” “You sentenced an adult to that," Gwens looked at Kristine, "so Tac could learn to be more responsible?” “Wait, wath there an option?” Kristine demanded. “See, don’t shoot the messenger. Shoot Gorgeous.” “Not helping Tac,” Gorgeous said. “And I did not realise the Nursery Knight was,” she looked at Kristine, “well, so extreme.” “Thon of a bitch.” “Listen, we can place blame later. Right now we need to understand what happened here.” Kristine and Gwens mumbled an agreement after a few seconds. Tac complained there was nothing to drink. “There’s a conference table we can all sit at in the back.” Gorgeous led the way deeper into the empty warehouse. Once they were all seated and, full introductions had been made Gorgeous asked Gwens to tell them more about the Nursery Knights. “I was sent to be the Liaison of girl named Betty. Four years old and the most helpless thing you could never have envisioned. I mean, if it was not for Mr Bunny…” “Mr Bunny?” Kristine asked with her lisp. “Her stuffed animal helper.” “Oh.” “If it was not for Mr Bunny I think she would not have been able to accomplish anything. All the Nursery Knights were like that. Immature and childish for their age, and seeing they were four, five or six that is saying a lot.” She looked at Kristine. “Sorry.” “I thuppothe I wath like that when I wath a little girl. I grew up and got mature.” “Well, as far as I know, Betty never grew up or became mature. None of the Nursery Knights did, at least when I was with them.” “How long was that?” Gorgeous asked. “A little more than a year to defeat the Nightmare King. And I looked in on her a few times after that, until my next job.” “Did the Nursery Knight program require the Knights to go dark?” “What?” Gwens looked at Gorgeous, obviously surprised. “No. I mean, to what point?” “All of them went Dark, sixteen years ago.” “What?” “It’s true,” Tac told her, “talked to the embassy. All of them just disappeared.” Gwens looked at them all. “What the hell?” “And thome men came and tried to kidnap me.” “I believe that someone wanted the complete set,” Gorgeous said. “I have been asking around. Looking into it. Umon Derrypiz…” “Bastard,” Tac said. “…looks like he was given some large bribes,” Gorgeous continued as if Tac had not spoken. “I suspect he created the Nursery Knights for someone.” “Where is he?” Tac asked. Kristine wondered about that. What sort of person would want the Nursery Knight concept? “He went to ground after you met with him. I suspect he contacted whoever bribed him, to let that person know of Kristine’s existence.” “And then that perthon thent the kidnapperth to get me,” Kristine said. She then told them of Mr Rat and Mr Badger and the blue man. Gorgeous, Gwens and Tac (though Tac looked bored) listened. When she finished, Gorgeous asked, “This blue huntsman? Does he sound familiar to anyone?” “Blue sounds trollish.” Tac sounded bored. “Not helpful.” “The colours, grey and red and silver, do they mean anything?” Gwens asked. “Hunting colours, House Balor uses them, and before you ask,” Gorgeous said, “there are over three hundred sub houses in House Balor, more than half of them ruled by a noble claiming the title of Duke.” “Why do you even know something that useless?” Tac put her chin on the table, staring across the surface at Gorgeous. “It’s not useless, and I don’t want to that from you.” “Useless,” Tac said softly. Kristine looked between the three women. “No way you are going to be able to look into all of those houses,” Gwens said. “Perhaps we start with Mr Rat and Mr Badger.” “Seems pretty nothing to me, bottom of the barrel kind of things.” Tac closed her eyes. Gorgeous looked cross. “Do you have better ideas?” Tac was quiet for a moment. “You know, maybe we look into Mr Rat and Mr Badger.” Gorgeous opened her mouth, Kristine could only assume she was going to yell at Tac. Kristine knew that she herself wanted to. Then she got a far off look. “My wards have been breached. Someone is coming.” Tac was suddenly a cat. She jumped onto Kristine’s shoulder. “Teleport us back to the Naga’s Nest. See you later Gorgeous.” “Wait.” Gorgeous stood. “Fine. Kristine, we’ll take Gorgeous too.” “No.” “Okay, we’ll leave Gorgeous.” Kristine looked between the two. “Tac, shut up. We need to turn this around. Capture whoever is coming after us, get them to talk.” “Great idea. Kristine, take me to the Naga’s Nest and then come back here to get killed.” Kristine grabbed Tac and dropped her to the table. “Why me? You’re stronger than me.” “What. No. You are much more powerful.” “But Tac…” Kristine blushed, not about to say how Tac spanked her. “Tac showed herself stronger than I.” “That’s because Magical Girls are always vulnerable to their Liaisons.” Gwens had turned back to a Raven at some point. “In case we need to kill them.” Tac jumped down from the table. “What?” “Tac, shut up. And yes, in case we need to deal with a rogue Magical Girl, but that's not important.” Gorgeous had stepped close. “We need to know if these are mercs sent after me because of the questions I have been asking or hunters after you. We need to know where they came from and if they know it who hired them. This could be an opportunity, and we can’t afford to pass it up.” Kristine looked up at Gorgeous, then she nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
  15. InkuHime

    Just a Picture

    So I decided to try some different colouring with this one. Instead of flood filling I painted in the colours with different brushes... I might go back and redo this with flood filling.
  16. Tac is great. Sure, I'd not want to have her as a friend, and if I was a magical girl she would be the worse companion, but it's fun to write someone selfish who is too lazy to be evil
  17. Here's the third story, Games of Skills, Games of Chance. I have added a few paragraphs to it, but the story is the same and not worth reading again if you already have done so in the past Games of Chance Games of Skill by Inku Hime The back room of a bar, cases of liquor and glassware stacked against the wall or upon the shelves. In the middle of the room, space had been made for a card table which sat upon the bare concrete floor. Above the table, an extra set of fluorescent lamps cast harsh white light down on the card players. Seven people, six of them firmly in the category of inbetweeners, one of them, at a sliver over five feet, a little. The little was a fine-featured woman, with long brown hair and soft golden brown skin, dressed in a flattering little-black-dress. A few other people were standing around the room, or sitting on cases of booze, watching the game, acting as runners if anything was needed, and those that called the game’s results to bookies. People would bet on anything. Three of those at the table still had cards and chips, and therefore were still playing. The little was one of them. Three watched. One time players that had gone bust but could not pull themselves from the table. One, a woman in a suit, was the dealer. The little had her two hold cards, and four face up. Two aces, a two and a five were showing. Another of the players, an older man, dark hair greying, a little doughy, leaned back in his chair, looking at the large pile of chips in front of the little. “About time you start going mad Kelly girl. Bet is to you.” Face up in front of him were two queens, a king and an eight. The little, who had been sorting her chips, looked up. “Is it? Well, I’d rather be loosing having fun than win being bored. I’ll see your two thousand and raise it four.” She pushed six piles of chips into the middle of the table. The furniture was scaled to inbetweeners, so she could sit on the chair with her bare feet on the cold concrete, but had to shift forward to the edge of her seat to slide the chips across the felt of the table’s surface. The third active player, younger, taller, more handsome than any of the men at the table, peeked at his hold cards as if perhaps they had somehow changed, then called, putting six thousand into the middle of the table. He was showing a jack, a ten, a six and a four. The dealer looked at the active players. A few people moved closer to the table. She burned the top card, putting it aside, face down, then dealt the three players their last card. Kelly got a jack. The young man scowled for a moment, gone when he was next dealt a jack himself. The older man got a second king. He smiled. “Mr Ivanhoe has the highest showing,” the dealer said. “Bet is to him.” “Eight thousand,” he said, then paused, “if we are all agreed on going over table limits?” He smiled. “Fine with me,” Kelly said, high, slightly burred voice. “Yeah, whatever,” the younger man said. Mr Ivanhoe pushed the chips forward. “Call and raise sixteen thousand,” Kelly said and moved twenty-four thousand in chips into the middle of the table. “Kelly girl is chasing rainbows,” someone said from the crowd. Someone said into a cell phone, “The little got a jack and has raised.” The pot had grown large in the earlier betting, and the chips on the table represented a small fortune. There had been eight players when the game had begun, long hours before, and the buy-in had been ten thousand. The young man, looked between the two players, his gaze passing over Kelly as if he was discounting her, then holding on Mr Ambrose for several seconds. He put his chips into the pot. “Call.” The dealer looked at Mr Ambrose. “Call.” He put the sixteen thousand into the pot. The pile of chips in front of the men were diminished. Kelly had a significant number of chips remaining. She was in for at least another round. “Your cards gentlemen and lady,” the dealer said. The young man moved quickly, turning over another jack and a ten. “Full house, jacks over tens,” the dealer announced. Ambrose, with a smile, gently turned his two cards: A six and a queen. “Full house, queens over kings,” the dealer told all those listening. The young man stared daggers at Mr Ambrose, and in the crowd who had gathered close someone said, “Lucky Robert’s got a horseshoe up his ass.” There was a soft sound of a pair of cards turning over. “Quite appropriately,” the dealer said, “a baby straight.” Everyone turned to look towards Kelly. She had turned over her hole cards, a three and a four. “You’ve been betting on a straight since the third card?” Robert asked. She smiled. Kelly stood up, looked at the scant number of chips that remained in front of the two men. “Thing about chasing rainbows is that eventually, you catch one.” She slipped her feet into the heels she had earlier kicked off. “I am going to cash out. A good evening to you all.” “Wait a second,” the tall, young man said, standing, reaching for Kelly. A big, knobby hand came down on his wrist. He looked to the hand's owner. A man, about six a half feet tall, with a misshapen nose that looked as if it had been broken so many times it no longer knew what shape it should heal into. He was broad across the shoulders, it made him look stocky. Dressed in a suit, bowler hat pulled low on a big, round head, he seemed to dominate the room. The tall man took a step back or tried to, but the grip on his wrist stopped him. “Yous got a problem?” He had a harsh voice, low, grinding. “Who are you?” the tall man asked, almost stammering. “I’m Kelly’s daddy, and I don’ts like it when some mook threatens my baby. Yous got a problem with the game?” “She won.” A few people laughed. “Someone’s gots to win, and mores gots to lose. Maybe you don’ts want to lose to my girl you ought to play in other games.” He released the man’s hand. “Let’s go Kelly girl.” “Yes Daddy,” Kelly said, all smiles as the man in the bowler hat put his hand on her shoulder, engulfing a good part of her slim back, and directed her towards the door. Outside was an empty bar, but for a man behind the car counter, counting out money. “Cashing out Mr Gordo,” Kelly said. “You banked fifteen thousand earlier, and with your winnings,” he sorted through all the money on the table, “sixty-eight thousand, four hundred and twenty-five dollars. House cut is ten percent, I’ll round up that fifty cents in your favour…” “You’re the soul of generosity.” “…which gives you Sixty-one thousand five hundred and eighty-three dollars.” He put the money in the envelope and then handed it to the man in the bowler hat. “Thanks,” he said, putting the bulging envelope into his inside, jacket pocket. It made for a significant bulge in the jacket. “Going to count it?” “I knows you don’ts wants me coming back here if I find it short.” “True.” “Comes along Kelly girl,” he said, grabbing her again, leading her from the bar. “Did I do good daddy?” she asked. He did not answer for a few seconds before saying, “You did okays Kelly girl.” Outside the bar, he led her along the dark street, under pools of lamplight, to a black sedan parked on the side of the road, with eight other cars. The man in the bowler slipped a young man a hundred. “Thanks for watching the cars.” “Thank you,” the man said, stuffing the bill into his ratty jean pockets. The man with the bowler opened the passenger door, let Kelly get in and pulled her seatbelt across her, then closed the door and circled to the driver’s side. A few seconds later the engine rumbled, and the car pulled away. Kelly sat in the back seat, kicked her heels off, glad she was large enough to not legally require a car seat. At least not while she was in a car sized for inbetweeners. There was a thump as the envelope with all the money landed on the seat beside her. “Yours winnings Miss Fortuna.” “Thank you, Ken,” she said and picked up the envelope, pulling the bills, mostly hundreds, out of it, counting. “You’s got to stops asking me if you done good. Almost started laughing.” She smiled. “Sorry, Ken.” She reached under her seat and pulled out a zippered, canvas pouch. “Stop by the bank, I want to drop most of this off in the night deposit box.” Ken made a soft grunt of affirmation. Other players left shortly after Kelly did. No one liked following Ken too closely. One of them, a nondescript man who had lost early in but had remained for the whole game, wandered farther away from the bar than the others, walking several blocks, to a better neighbourhood, and a large, well lit, gated parking lot. There were a few cars parked there overnight, one of them a giant-sized, red coupe. The man opened the passenger door, had to grab a handhold to pull himself up into the seat. “The little is the one you want,” he said to the giant who sat behind the wheel. The engine started with a purr, and the driver pulled out of the spot. The sun was still minutes away from raising as the sedan crossed the bridge, leaving the city behind for the suburbs. Kelly leaned her face against the cool window, looking out over the water. “Gots any other games coming up?” Ken asked from up front. “Nothing soon, and nothing needed, not after tonight’s win. Gordo has probably got another ten thousand buy in coming up in two months. We could fly out to Vegas in a week or two, see how I can do at the tables.” “Sounds good Miss Fortuna.” Ken asked nothing else, and Kelly closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of cool glass under her cheek. She did not open them until she felt the car slow and turn. She owned a lovely house in the suburbs, not huge, but it had a good sized yard and privacy. Most of her neighbours were giants, but they never bothered her. Not with Ken and his smashed in nose and huge hands around. When they entered the house, Kelly asked, “Going to do anything Ken?” “Just watch some TV, until I falls asleeps.” “See you later then,” she told him and started up the stairs, which were just a little too high for her. The house had been sized for taller inbetweeners or smaller giants. Kelly could move about it, but it all seemed large to her, and she had never got used to it. She took a long, hot shower in the too big glassed-in shower stall. Then, with a towel wrapped around herself, padded into her too big room where she had to use step stool to get onto her giant scaled queen sized bed. It was far too big for her, but she loved all the space. Closing her eyes, she took in some long, deep breaths. She just wanted to sleep all day. She turned over, burying her face in the big pillow. It smelled fresh. The maid had been in yesterday so it would be two days before she came back. No one would be knocking on her door, asking her if she was in. She hated being woken like that. Hugging her pillow tight to herself she laughed softly. She had made fifty-thousand dollars that night. Like Robert has said, she usually went a little mad when the pots got huge, and the games were near their endpoints. She loved betting hight, she loved bluffing. Always she made sure to get back her initial stake and about half of that on top of it. Once that was secure she just wanted to play. She had lost small fortunes, in one case a large one. She had won them as well. No matter what she always had enough to pay back her debts. Flipping over onto her back, flinging out her arms and legs she thought back to the first person who had ever set her up with a stake. “Amelia,” she whispered, a smile on her lips. “What do you need the money for Kelly,” Amelia asked. Kelly looked down at Amelia. She had to. Amelia was a little who was not quite four feet tall, with long, blonde hair, and beautiful blue eyes and a sweet voice that sounded like it should be singing the ABC song. Kelly never said it, but when she was with Amelia, she understood why some of the giants wanted to baby littles. What she did say was, “I’m joining in the poker game that Dummy Diane’s father runs out behind his warehouses.” Amelia’s eyes went comically wide. “Are you insane?” “Maybe. Probably not.” “Diane and her clique of mean girl Amazons are bad enough, but her father is a total monster.” “Come on Amelia, no more of this ‘all giants will put a little back in the nursery’ stuff. You are beginning to sound like a crazy person.” Amelia frowned. Kelly thought it looked like she was pouting and it was so darn cute. “Well,” Amelia said, “they won’t even let a little play.” “Littles have played before. You pay the stake, and they let you in.” “Did any of those littles ever win?” “Well, not sure about that.” Amelia gave her a hard state. “Hey,” Kelly put up her hands defensively. “I’m not stupid. I got this worked out. I got back up.” She used her thumb to point behind her. Across the football field, near the fence that surrounded the school ground, an inbetweener was leaning against a tree. Amelia shaded her eyes. “Is that,” she paused, “Ken Dorchess?” “That is him.” “They kicked him out of school.” Her pure voice sounded alarmed, it was, as many things about Amelia were, cute. “I heard they were going to send him to prison.” Kelly shook her head. “Schoolyard gossip. He’s a decent guy. Likes money, likes fighting, makes a great bodyguard.” “But, Mr Combine and the others, most are giants.” “Ken’s like a rattlesnake. Sure, a rattlesnake might be smaller than you, but it is all bad temper and poison. Do you really want to hit it?” Amelia shook her head. She pulled an envelope out of her pocket and held it out to Kelly. “Two thousand dollars.” Kelly took the envelope. “Thanks, Amelia.” She bent at her knees to lower herself so she could hug the other girl tightly. “And don’t worry,” she said into Amelia’s ear. “You’ll get all this back and half again.” “I don’t care about the money stupid,” Amelia told her. “I just want you back safe. I don’t want to see you end up in a nursery.” Kelly released her and took a step back. “Why Miss Black, I do think you love me.” Amelia blushed, then shook her head. “Just shut up and go.” Kelly laughed and turned, striding confidently across the empty football field, overgrown with summer grass. “Good luck Kelly!” Amelia yelled from behind her. Kelly turned and gave her a wave. A loud thumping sound woke Kelly from her half remembrances and dreams. She crawled across her bed and then stepped down onto the footstool. There was another thump. Was Ken moving furniture around or something? She grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it on, leaving her room and walking to the stairs. At the top she found herself looking down at a scene that she could not comprehend immediately. It took her a few seconds to sort it all out. Ken was down there, in a fight, with a giant, a man who was near twice his height. Ken swung one of his big, hard hands out in a wild haymaker. Kelly had seen that punch catch giants just as big, right in the gut or the groin, and drop them. However, this giant turned, just enough, and dropped his hand, knocking the punch aside as he moved behind Ken and kicked the inbetweener in the back of the knee. Ken stumbled forward a step, but his knee did not fold, Straightening he drove the back of his head hard against the man. Ken had experience fighting giants, the giant, on the other hand, seemed at somewhat of a disadvantage against his smaller opponent. Or at first, Kelly thought. It was only a few seconds later after the two had exchanged a few more attacks and counterattacks that Kelly realised two things. The giant was going out of his way not to hurt Ken too badly, and he was also doing his best to keep the noise of the fight down. As if he did not want to be disturbed. Kelly ran down the hall, to her room, found her phone among her clothing. She stared incredulously at the screen and the fact that she had no bars. Letting her phone drop into the pile of her clothes she ran across the hall, to a room that served as something of an office, and where she had a landline. On picking up the phone, she discovered there was no dial tone. Whatever was happening it was no simple home invasion. She ran back to the top of the stairs where she watched the final moments of the fight. The two were on the ground, the giant had his legs wrapped around Ken’s throat, one of Ken’s arms in a lock. Ken was struggling, hard, but every second those struggles got weaker and weaker. The giant was choking the life out of him. Then Ken went still. The large man shifted around, onto his knees, pulled something from the pocket of a ripped sports coat. He secured Ken’s hands behind his back and then looked up at where Kelly stood. “He will be okay,” the man said in a surprisingly smooth baritone. “Bruises and sprains. Please don’t try to run away.” Kelly spun in place, thinking to do just that, but then she wondered where she would go. Climbing out of the window on the second floor was just going to leave her standing on a ledge with a drop that would probably break her leg. Likely some of her nosy neighbours would call family services if they saw her climbing out a window. She turned back, saw the big man lifting Ken onto his shoulder. “I can promise you that this is not whatever you think it is. We need to talk.” He walked away, towards the living room from where she could hear the sound of the TV. Kelly nearly fell as she rushed down the stairs, towards the front door. Pulling open the door she discovered an inbetweener man there. She recognised him from the poker game. “Please, just go back into the house,” he told her. Behind her, she could hear the heavy footsteps of the giant. The inbetweener smiled at her and then pushed the door closed. Kelly turned slowly. The giant man stood at the end of the entry hall. She noticed his head was close to the ceiling. He had taken off his jacket, wore a sweater and a pair of dark jeans, a shoulder holster apparent without his jacket. “I would like to talk to you, Miss Fortuna.” Kelly found her voice. “Why?” He looked at her, frowned. Perhaps not used to explaining himself to littles. A lot of the giants were like that. “I need your skills as a gambler.” “Excuse me?” He turned and walked away, deeper into the house. Kelly followed. In the living room, Ken lay on the couch, still out, looking as comfortable as a man who was trussed up could. “I gave him something to keep him out,” the big man said as he took a seat in a chair too small for him. The windows shades were back, and the room well lit with the rising sun. Kelly got her first good look at the man. Short, dirty blonde hair, cut neat, pale blue eyes, fair skin. He had a strong, straight nose and a strong chin. It was a very handsome face. And his build, suggested strong, lean muscles, an athlete. Her cell phone had been jammed, her landline cut or interfered with, and this man was armed. What’s more was that she realised that had that man wanted to hurt Ken, or had been willing to make more noise, it would not have even been a fight. She had not known giants like that existed. It was the first time she felt at a loss, that the natural confidence that she could get through life entirely on her own terms was somehow misplaced. Maybe Amelia Black had not been so crazy, not if there were more giants like this. Kelly shook her head angrily in a silent denial. “Who are you?” “You can call me Steven, Mr Artimage where formal address is required.” Kelly took a seat, choosing one of the smaller chairs, so she did not have to climb into it. “What do you want Mr Artimage?” “As I said, I need your skills as a gambler, as those are skills I lack.” “I don’t understand.” He said nothing for a few seconds. “There is a man I need to get to. That man is a gambler. Currently, my best way to get to him in the manner I wish is to keep him from winning a high stakes poker game. I need you to play in this game, to beat him. It does not matter if you win in the end, as long as he loses.” “What game? Where?” “The ‘Cartes D'or Triomphantes’ in Monaco.” Kelly sat back in her chair. For a moment she felt as if she could not breathe. “You know of it?” Again the angry shake of her head. “Of course I know of it. The game has a twenty-million Euro buy-in.” “I’ll cover it.” “You’ll cover it? Just like that?” “Just like that.” “It’s invitation only.” “I have an invitation, it is yours.” “They don’t let littles play!” “They don’t offer littles invitations. And who would give one to them? But if you show up with an invitation and the buy-in they will let you play.” “Why me? Why are you here?” “Four years ago you played in the Cartes D'or Petites.” She nodded. “By all accounts, you should have won, but apparently you…” “Chased rainbows.” “Yes, that is how they described it. You bet high and bluffed often.” “I enjoyed it.” “I am not surprised. Littles tend to lie.” She looked up at him, wondering if he was trying to pick a fight. He looked back at her with a ‘matter of fact’ expression. When Kelly did not say anything else, he continued, “I will need you to put that aside. You won’t be playing this game for fun.” “What do I get if I win?” “I’ll pay you five million dollars.” “That’s a fraction of the pot,” she said. “It’s not your money that is providing the stake.” “And if I don’t win, but knock your boy out of the tournament? What then?” “A free round trip to Monaco and a generous per diem.” “That’s it?” “Adults don’t reward failure Miss Fortuna.” Real nice, she thought, but said, “Fine.” “You didn’t ask about the third option.” “That’s because it is not relevant.” He smiled. “Who is it you want me to beat?” “A man named Conrad Revel.” “The same Conrad Revel that won the Cartes D'or Triomphantes last year?” “The same. Does that scare you?” “Are you,” she almost said stupid but went with, “kidding? A chance to play in a tournament with someone like him? If you’re not jerking me around, I look forward to it.” “I assure you, Miss Fortuna, that I am not playing some elaborate hoax.” “Why do you want Revel to lose?” “That is need to know Miss Fortuna.” “Is this something illegal?” He smiled. “You are just playing in a poker tournament. What could be illegal in that?” “Nothing I guess.” “You have a valid passport?” She nodded. “Yes.” “Can you travel tomorrow?” “Tomorrow? But…” “Yes or no?” It was not a tone that brooked explanations of the need to cancel newspaper delivery and arrange someone to pick up the mail. “Yes,” she said and wondered if, even as the words left her mouth, she would regret it. He stood, picked up his jacket from where he hung it. From a pocket, he produced a business card and held it out to her. In her hands, it was more a playing card than the business card it looked when he held it. “My contact information. On the back is the address of an FPT site, a username and password…” he paused and looked down at her. “You understand what those are?” “Yes, I know,” she told him, tone exasperated. “Good. You can download what information I have on the confirmed players. Look at it all.” He put on the jacket. “I will be here tomorrow at 9am. Be ready to go. Pack light.” She was about to ask what ‘pack light’ meant when he pulled a knife from his pocket, flicked it open, and moved towards Ken. “Wai…” she started, thinking he was about to kill Ken, so there would be no witnesses, but instead, quickly, he cut the bonds that held him. “What?” he looked over his shoulder at her. “Nothing, I just sneezed.” He looked doubtful but said, “9am tomorrow,” as he folded the knife up and returned it to his pocket. “9am,” she repeated. “Packed light.” “Packed light,” she agreed, sighing. He left her there. Kelly looked at the card. Neat lettering, Steven Artimage, Vice President Green Imports, London England. There was a phone number, an email address and a website URL. She flipped the card over. In neat, cursive script was the FTP site address and the login credentials. She sat back in her chair, wondering what she had gotten herself into. But, to play in the Cartes D'or Triomphantes… It was worth whatever trouble she ran into. Later Ken and Kelly sat in her office, Ken close behind, looking over her shoulder. She had four monitors set up, which was a little excessive as she really had a hard time focusing on more than two at any time, but it looked neat. On one screen videos of Conrad Revel playing were being shown. On another flight booking information and another showed the odds currently being offered on the tournament. However, the screen that she and Ken were focused on was the website for Green Imports. “Looks fake,” Ken said. “Looks real, but that a man like Steven Artimage would work there, that seems fake.” “It’s what I meants.” She nodded. “And no mention of Steven Artimage anywhere else.” “Fake name.” “Maybe, or a name that people are trying to hide.” She slumped in her chair. “I suck at this kind of computer research.” She moved the betting site to the monitor in front of her. “Looks like they figure that Izzy Aster is going to go out first. That will change once they know a little has entered.” “Should I bets on you not being the first out?” “Sure, it will be some easy money. The odds will be decent enough.” “And bets on yous to wins every hands that you plays.” “Catalina is the best bookie to be working with. That lady will never believe that a little can win. You’ll clean up. She’s gonna get so pissed.” She had already worked out the amounts that Ken could bet, based on how much his working capital grew. She would never win every hand, but with the odds Ken would get she only had to win one in four to make a lot of money off this. She moved the flight booking information onto the screen. “We’ve got your ticket. Maybe you’ll even be on the same flight as me.” “Once you sends me the informations on where you are in the city I’ll be close.” “Good.” She’d feel better knowing she had Ken as backup. Finally, she put Conrad Revel in front of her, watching the man play. “Hows you gonna beat him?” Ken asked. “I have no idea.” It was close to 9am the next day when Kelly had finalised everything with Ken. “I still don’ts likes this,” he told her. “I’m still not entirely certain of it myself, but I am willing to take a chance. To play in the Cartes D'or Triomphantes, and 5 million if I win.” “It’s a lots of money.” “It is. And we can make more.” She took a deep breath. “Wish me luck Ken.” “Goods luck Miss Fortuna, but you don’ts need it.” She smiled up at him, then opened the front door, stepped out onto the porch. Ken stepped out behind her. At 9am on the dot a large, red, sporty looking coupe pulled through the gates and rolled up the driveway. It stopped in front of them, the passenger door and trunk opening. Ken had to help her into the car, but he knew to do it by offering her a hand up as opposed to picking her up. She settled into the huge seat. Ken leaned into the car. “Yous better takes of her,” he warned Steven. “You don’t need to worry,” Steven told her, then reached across the car to pull the door shut, forcing Ken to jump back or be hit by the door. “Rude much?” Kelly asked. He did not answer. She heard a soft thump that she guessed was Ken tossing her bag in the trunk and then the sound of the trunk closing. A moment later Steven was driving away, following the circle drive at the front of the house and then back towards the gates. Not that Kelly could see where they were going. “Your bodyguard is waving.” Kelly raised a hand above the window that she could not see out of and hoped Ken saw her farewell wave. She asked Steven a few questions, but he was not forthcoming with answers, so she gave up soon enough. They spent an hour driving in what Kelly thought was an uncomfortable silence, made worse by the fact being unable to see where they were going made her feel a little car sick. Eventually, they stopped, Steven parking the car in a garage that, by the sound of things, was near the airport. He opened the door but did not help her out. It was easier to get out than to get in, and she slid down to the ground, glad she had worn jeans instead of a skirt. He was waiting, holding out her small, overnight bag. It looked tiny in his hands. She took it, noting his overnight bag would have been a duffle bag were she carrying it. She should have asked for a definition of ‘pack light’ because it was possible she could have brought more stuff. He led the way, probably taking shorter steps, but she still had to jog to keep up. They did not go into the main terminal but circled around out to where the private aircraft flew in and out of. The silver, private jet that sat on the tarmac seemed huge to Kelly, as it was sized to giants. The waiting attendant, a pretty woman probably around 9 feet tall, had to help her up the boarding steps, and into the plush, leather seats. She was kind enough but spent too much time telling Kelly where the bathroom was and encouraging her to ask if she needed any help. “These are leather seats after all,” she finished off with. Steven sat and showed no interest in the attendant's conversation with Kelly. Not long after, faster than any commercial flight she had been on, they were in the air, climbing. The captain, a calm sounding woman, announced when they had reached their cruising altitude. The attendant came back, asked if they wanted anything. Steven asked for a whisky and water. “A gin and tonic,” Kelly said. The attendant looked towards Steven. “Get her whatever she wants,” he told her. “Thank you,” she said to Steven. He did not answer. A short time later the attendant came back with their drinks and a booster seat. “This will make you more comfortable,” she explained to Kelly. Kelly suspected the sunken plastic seat which would hold an accident would make the attendant feel more comfortable about the safety of the leather seats. “Is the only way I get my drink is if I sit on that?” Kelly asked. “You’re so cute,” the attendant answered. Kelly let the woman set up the booster seat. It actually was a little more comfortable and gave her a better view. Finally, she could enjoy her drink. Being on the flight to Monaco, drinking a gin and tonic, reminded her of the last time she had seen Amelia. “This is where you are going to live?” Kelly asked. “What’s wrong with it?” Amelia asked back. “Its kind of, well, old, drab, out in the middle of nowhere, there is a blacksmith on the first floor… I mean you might as well have stayed back home in butt fuck nowhere and worked fixing farmers’ computers.” Amelia shook her head. “This is much better. Great internet connection and no giants.” “Cause every giant is gonna try to grab you.” “They are.” Kelly shook her head. “Listen, why don’t you put that crazy idea aside and get a new crazy idea. You could be a cat lady. This place looks perfect for a crazy cat lady.” “You’re pretty lippy for someone coming to ask for money.” Kelly laughed and hugged Amelia. “You know I’m just bustin’ your adorable chops.” “I have chops?” Kelly smiled. “Okay, I can give you forty thousand dollars.” Kelly blinked. “I was only asking for ten, and I felt guilty about that.” Amelia shrugged her small shoulders. “I’m actually pretty well off. Had some good paying work in college. And if I give you this much you have to ask fewer people for the rest. I’ll feel better. “Cashiers check okay?” Amelia asked as she produced the slip of paper. “That’s great Amelia, I mean… I don’t know what to say.” “Just tell me you’ll be safe. I can’t believe you are still doing this gambling, and around giants.” “Don’t worry. I got Ken around, keeping any grabby people away.” “He’s still with you?” “You sound surprised.” “I thought he would be in prison by now.” “Not nice Amelia,” Kelly said, angry and showing it. Amelia took a step back. “Sorry.” “He’s a good guy. We take care of each other.” “Are you…” “What? With Ken? No. He’s not my type, and I’m not his. He still calls me Miss Fortuna most of the time.” “Well, I’m glad then.” Kelly walked to the window, looked out over the mostly squat, old buildings. “Still, you went to that fancy college. Why aren’t you working for some big company in a nice office?” “You know why.” Kelly looked back at her friend and shook her head. “Amelia, you can’t hide away. You got to spread your wings, like me.” Amelia did not answer. Kelly sighed. “Fine. Any place around here where we can get a drink? We’ll toast our reunion and my guaranteed success at the tournament.” “There is a bar close by. The bartender is a weird blind guy, but he makes a good gin and tonic. Do you really think you are going to win?” she asked as she walked to the door. “I am going to try, but the sure money is on the side bets that Ken will be making.” “Side bets?” She opened the door to the hallway. “That I win the hand. Those odds are always going to be long, so I don’t even have to win the tournament to pay back all my loans and get enough money to buy my house.” She followed Amelia out of the apartment. “You’re going to buy a house?” Amelia closed and locked her door. “Yeah, got my eye on one in a nice neighbourhood.” “I hope you get it. Oh, in case you need some computer help, my card.” Amelia produced a plain, white business card from her pants pocket. Kelly took it. “Emily Black? Why did you change your first name?” “There might be some people from college who would look for Amelia Black. No one is ever going to look for Emily Black.” Kelly was startled out of her thoughts when Steven asked, “You looked over those files from the FTP site?” Kelly took a sip of her gin and tonic. Almost as good as the ones that blind bartender close to Amelia’s place made. “I did.” “What do you think?” “I’ve seen Izzy play before. He’s not as good as he thinks he is, and he pays to play in tournaments like this so he can be around great players. He’ll be the first one out.” “That is what the bookies think.” She nodded. “Lyle Redmond is good, but not as good as he thinks he is, and I am pretty certain he is never going to consider me a threat, even if I were to win every hand. He won’t believe that I can bluff him and he’ll assume he can always bluff me. A man more dismissive of littles I don’t think I have ever seen.” “Be careful around him. Apparently, he is thinking of adding another little girl to his nursery.” “Some people want big families I guess, but I’m not worried, Daddy. You’ll be there to protect me.” “Daddy?” He sounded shocked. Kelly looked over at him. “That’s part of Ken’s job, to make a pretence of being in loco parentis.” “I’ll have someone else take care of that. While you are playing, we don’t know each other.” She was a little surprised but said, “Fine.” “Continue.” “No idea about Charles Wright, he is sort of an unknown. Even the stuff you gave me did not tell me anything.” “What does that mean?” Kelly had thought about it. “He’s either an unknown ringer or he is someone who’s been prepped for this, in hopes he will be good enough. If the former he is a threat and if the later I expect him to drop out soon.” “When will you know?” “First few hands probably.” “And Conrad?” “I don’t know if I can beat him.” “The entire purpose of you being here is to beat him.” “I know, but he’s good. I watched those videos you sent me and was never able to tell when he was bluffing. It might be better if I am in the same room as him, but I think it will come down to skill and maybe a little luck.” “I don’t like counting on luck.” “And yet you sought out me.” He frowned, then shook his head. “You’re skilled, and you are unexpected. Those will be of benefit. That is why I brought you into this.” “I plan to win,” she told him. “I’m glad otherwise I’d have to find someone else.” They talked a while longer about the four players they knew, but it was a conversation quickly exhausted. Afterwards, it was just polite, filler conversation, and little of that. Steven started flirting with the attendant, and she was quick to start flirting back. Kelly slept for a bit, in her reclined chair, and when she woke she saw Steven was gone. Soft moans from the back of the plane suggested where he and the attendant were. She squirmed for a bit, picturing what was happening. She almost got up to go and peep but decided against it. It would just arouse her all the more with no option of release. So she closed her eyes and went back to sleep. Monaco was hot and wealthy. Almost everyone in the city was a giant, the few littles that Kelly saw were being treated like babies. She had never been in such a city, the Cartes D'or Petites had been held in Montpellier farther along the coast. They passed quickly through customs and outside the small airport a giant scaled, silver sports car awaited them. There was a booster seat in the passenger seat, and Steven lifted her up and put her into it. “We’re not going to do anything that would attract attention,” he told her before she could object. Then they were driving into the city proper. It was still early morning, though late night back home, and Steven drove them right to the hotel and casino. They checked in and were shown to their suite. “Would you like a crib brought in sir?” the bellhop asked Steven. “No, that won’t be necessary.” “Very good,” he said, and then left after Steven had tipped him. “Get some rest, we’re going shopping this afternoon.” “Right,” Kelly said. She saw Steven’s room, larger, with a king-sized bed. She did not begrudge him as he was a big man. Her room in the suite was smaller, but not by much, with a twin sized giant scale bed that would be more than big enough. The lack of a step stool meant she had to use one of the chairs to get up on the bed. The mattress was amazingly comfortable. So comfortable she slid back down to the floor and slipped the sheets aside so she could get a picture of the label. She would look into buying one when she got home. A useful thing to do with all her winnings. While she was doing that she had heard a knock on the door and then the sound of Steven letting someone in. She had just finished taking the pictures when a maid came in and with an ‘excusez-moi’ stripped the bed of its sheets and then put a plastic protector on the mattress before remaking the bed. “There you go sweetheart,” she said in accented English before scooping Kelly up and putting her on the bed. “Now be careful not to fall off, or your papa will have to have a crib brought in.” She then ruffled her hand through Kelly’s hair before leaving the room. That was annoying, Kelly thought, glad that the plastic protective sheet did not rustle when she moved about. She considered for a moment removing it, just to make a point but making the large bed seemed like more of a chore than she wanted to undertake. Still on the bed she stripped down to her panties and then climbed under the sheets. She grabbed her phone and texted a message to Ken, letting him know where she was. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep. Steven woke her around 1pm, knocking on her door. About thirty minutes later, after showering and brushing her teeth, she was ready to go in a pair of tan shorts and a green t-shirt, her hair combed back into a functional ponytail. Steven was dressed in a linen suit, clean shaven, painfully handsome. She smiled at him. He merely nodded and said, “Let’s go.” Not very talkative, she thought, but that seemed to be his way. If it was not about business, he did not engage in idle conversation. In the lobby, he checked with the concierge to see if there were any messages for him, and then to have his car brought around. The parking valet helped Kelly into the car as Steven got in, and then they were off. He pulled the car to the side of the road, just outside of the hotel. “Take this and keep it with you at all times,” he said, taking a key fob from his jacket pocket and giving it to her. “The keys to the car?” “Just to open the doors. It is not as if you could drive it.” Kelly did not know if he was being cruel or just pointing out the obvious. She nodded. “If you get in trouble, if you need help, just get in the car.” He pointed at the GPS screen set low on the dashboard. “Tap that twice, then press the red button that will appear and ask for help. Someone will be there to answer.” “A lot of support for someone who works for an import company.” He did not react to that, instead said, “Remember, I need you to blend is as much as possible. That will be hard enough for you playing in the tournament, but other than that I need to you look and behave like any other little in this city.” “I’ve seen a few littles in this city, and I don’t think much of that.” He shifted into drive and pulled away from the side of the road. “Part of the arrangement.” His tone told her that it was not open to negotiation. Again she supposed she could put up with a lot for five million dollars and the opportunity to play in the Cartes D'or Triomphantes. They drove into the city, old buildings and streets, to a stretch of shops with high fashion displayed in every window. Steven pulled the car into a small lot, then walked with Kelly back along that street to a store with windows filled with the dresses for children and littles, and in this city, Kelly thought, there was no real difference. “How can I help you?” one of the women asked Steven when they entered the shop, completely ignoring Kelly. “I need four party dresses for her. Conservative, in the latest fashions.” The woman looked down at Kelly for the first time. “Of course. What is the occasion?” “She’ll be interacting with adults in a formal event.” “Red would look nice with her skin tone and hair colour.” “I was thinking various shades of white.” “Of course.” No one was asking Kelly. Really, she wondered how those littles who chose to live as children or just were incapable of handling the adult world dealt with that sort of treatment. Well, she could put up with it for a short time. The woman helped her up onto a stand that was not quite as tall as Kelly herself, putting her at a manageable level to work with. The shop clerk brought out dresses, showing them to Steven and then holding them next to Kelly, commenting on how the colours flattered her. As they were all very childish, with empire waists and large bows in the back, Kelly would have chosen none of them, but after an hour Steven and the woman had picked out four. “I’ll need her measurements if we are to get these adjusted to her fit. And you’ll need them when?” “Tomorrow night, or the next day early.” She produced her smartphone and entered a few notes. “We can do that. It will be a little extra.” “That’s fine.” Kelly was tempted to ask if this was coming out of her five million but supposed that was the sort of question that would attract the attention Steven said he did not want. “Let me get her undressed and into a diaper so I can measure her.” “A dia…” she started to say, but she caught Steven’s hard glance, and the words were left unuttered. He asked, “Is that the current fashion?” The woman laughed good-naturedly. “Of course. No one would take a chance with such an expensive dress and a little or small child.” “As you say,” Steven told her with a smile. Kelly did not argue as the woman led her behind a folding privacy screen and then speedily and skillfully undressed her before Kelly even had time to suggest she could do it herself. Kelly tried not to act embarrassed, though she had a hard time not cross her hands over her small breasts. The woman was probably about eight feet tall, so she could not quite handle Kelly as if she were a toddler. She rolled out a changing pad and said, “Lie down honey.” Kelly did, the quilted plastic surface of the changing pad soft but a little cool. “Bottom up.” Kelly lifted her bottom so the woman could slide a diaper under her. She gently pushed Kelly down so her bottom settled into the thick padding, then spread her legs out so she could pull the diaper up around her. Kelly flushed a little at that. It was not that Kelly believed wearing a diaper made her a baby, or that she would be using one if it was put on her. As a little, diapers were sometimes demanded, and she rated them as just another impractical pair of panties, of the same kind but on the exact opposite scale as a thong. She had worn thongs before when the situation demanded, and the same with diapers. It just had been a long time one had been put on her as if she could not handle the relatively simple task herself. The woman fastened the tapes, then ran her fingers along the leg gathers, long fingernails gently grazing the skin of her thighs. “A perfect fit.” Then she pulled Kelly to her feet, patted her diapered bottom and then her head. Next came a white cotton vest that smoothed out her breasts a little, and a filly pair of bloomer diaper covers, which hid the shallow curve of her hips. So dressed she was led out from the privacy screen, with little concern that she was only in underwear (even though the underwear actually covered more of her than the shorts and t-shirt she had been wearing). No one really paid that much attention though, which she disliked more than the diaper and the bloomers. She was once more placed on the stand to be measured, and then the dresses that Steven had chosen were put on her, small chalk pencils used to mark where they needed to be taken in or let out. Steven had his phone out and took pictures of her in each dress. She suspected that she was blushing in each one. “We’ll need some casual clothing as well,” Steven said, “current styles, she can wear training pants with those.” “Are you sure?” the woman asked him. “Very.” “As you wish.” And there were more clothes brought out, though less attention was given to them than the dresses. Kelly left the shop wearing a white sailor style dress with black trim and a pair of thick cotton training panties under it. Everything else would be delivered to the hotel. “Do we really need all this?” “The tournament is broken up into two, five-hour games each day, with a four-hour break between each game,” he said. “Yes.” “Usually they end late on the second day, or the early the third day.” “Yes.” “So you’ll need at least three of the dresses, and everything else is a bit of a blind, though you’ll wear some of it before we are through here.” “I’m certainly not going to wear those twenty-five pairs of training panties she made you buy.” “One would hope.” She wondered if he doubted her. Was all it took was a little to put on a childish outfit for the giants to start questioning their ability to take care of themselves? She did not have much time to think about it for there was more shopping. Steven took her to a shoe store where he showed the clerk pictures of Kelly in the dresses and then got four pairs of shoes, all patent leather mary-janes with a small heel. The also picked up some other shoes to go with her more casual outfits, including the black leather t-strap ballet flats that she wore out of the shop; the clerk having enthused that they were the perfect thing for her sailor dress. Steven went to a shop where he picked up a tuxedo and two suits, with a lot less bother than it had taken for even one of her dresses. She wondered if male littles under care did better in the clothing situation. It was not something she had ever thought about before. In a small shop, he bought her two small handbags for her dresses and then he took her to a jewellery store where she almost forgave him. Three golden chokers and a pair of hair combs, tortoiseshell and edged in gold, were purchased for her. The chokers each had a small golden decoration on them, a heart on one, an angel on another and a star on a third. “Hold out your hand,” he said to her, kneeling down, so he was closer to her level. She held out her right hand. He captured it easily, her entire hand lost in his big one, and she felt him fasten something around her wrist. When he removed it, she saw a beautiful, gold wristwatch, the kind where you could see the movement of the action. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Just make sure you don’t take it off.” She was pretty sure he was telling her not to lose it and said, a little petulantly, “This is mine now.” He did not say anything for a moment, and then, “I think I heard that is one of the toddler rules of possession if they want it it is theirs.” Kelly blushed and found herself stammering as she said, “It’s just that…” He stood, cutting her off. “Let’s go.” She followed after him and for a moment felt as young as she was dressed. The shopping trip must have been finished for he took her out for dinner at a nice restaurant. She had to sit on a booster seat, and order from a child’s menu, which was designed not to give her any food which might make a mess. When they got back to the hotel room, he told her to go to bed. “Rest up, make sure you get over your jet lag.” “Okay.” Curious she asked. “What are you going to do?” He said nothing to her for a few seconds and then, with a smile, said, “That’s none of your concern to worry about.” The next morning, as Kelly padded out of her room, wearing a t-shirt she had brought with her, rubbing at her eyes, she found Steven, well dressed, sitting out on the balcony, finishing off his coffee. “I’ve asked for a maid to serve as your companion for the duration of our stay.” Kelly climbed up into the chair opposite to him and kneeling on it, reached for the bacon and one of the croissants. “Why do I need a companion?” “To keep someone from snapping you up. As you said, in loco parentis.” Kelly chewed on the bacon and then asked. “Companion or nanny?” “There’s not a difference between them as far as a little is concerned.” “Really? You drag me all the way here and then act as if I a mindless drooler?” He looked somewhat confused. “I’m not sure why you are upset.” “You’re not…” Well, of course, he was not sure. She sighed. “You’ve brought me here for an adult job, in so much as you are able to, would it kill you to think of me as an adult, and that maybe being told I need a nanny is a little insulting.” He stared at her as if she had done something shocking. “Mr Dorchess takes care of you.” “That’s different, he’s my bodyguard.” “And this woman will be serving a similar role.” “Ken doesn’t think he needs to change me!” Her tone got a little snappish. “And I am sure as long as you don’t wet your diapers this woman won’t think she needs to change you either.” He got up from the table. “Her name is Marie Frontè. She should be here in a few minutes,” he told Kelly as he walked to the door. “Listen to her, try not to attract too much attention.” Then he was gone. Kelly stared angrily at the door for a few seconds, then grabbed some more of the bacon and shoved it into her mouth, chewing it with gusto before stuffing the croissant in after it and reaching for the coffee decanter and cup. “Listen to her my ass,” she said through a mouth full of food. When she heard a knock at the door a few minutes and all the bacon later she got down from her chair and padded over to the door. The security lock was not latched, so she did not have to pull up a chair to unlock the door. A pretty giant stood there, with a smile on her face. “Hello Kelly,” she said in accented English. “I am Miss Frontè, and I will be your best friend while you are in Monaco. Won’t that be nice?” Kelly wondered about ‘best friend’ and almost asked her new bestie if she wanted to go and get drunk at the bar and then maybe go find a male strip club. Not that that was something Kelly did, but part of her wanted to shock the smiling Marie Frontè. However, recalling Steven’s instructions, she said, “Yes Miss Frontè.” “Good girl, now,” she entered the suite, shooing Kelly away from the door before she closed it. “Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed for the day.” Kelly had been able to persuade Marie to let her shower on her own, but only if she promised not to lock the bathroom door. She would not be convinced to let Kelly chose her own outfit for the day. ‘You want to look fashionable don’t you?’ she had asked. ‘Just trust me, I am French, and therefore fashion is as natural as breathing.’ It was a stupid reason, but not one that Kelly could come up with an argument against. So she ended up in a pair of training panties, white tights, and an A-Line dress with a short skirt. The dress was pink, with a white peter pan collar and stripe that went down her front and another that crossed it just below her hips. She thought it looked like a pink version of the Swiss flag. Marie put a matching hat on her head and declared Kelly ‘comme il faut’. With the same ballet flats she had worn the day before Marie took her hand and led her from the room, promising her a day of fun and admonishing her to say something if she needed to use the potty. ‘Training pants are a big responsibility’ she told Kelly in all seriousness, in what Kelly had to admit was a cute accent. The day was spent being a tourist in Monaco, with Marie leading her from various attraction of interest, to public restroom, to attraction, to restroom, in a cycle that continued even though Kelly never used the restroom in those enforced visits and instead only when she asked to go. Asking to go was annoying. Being praised for it was even more annoying, cute French accent or no. They saw many things, beyond the inside of numerous public restrooms. There was the Oceanographic Museum, and the Opera House, and the Jardin Exotique, and the Saint Nicholas Cathedral where Marie had her place some flowers on the graves of Prince Rainier and Princess Grace. Other than minor flashes of annoyance when Marie dragged her off to a restroom, it was actually an enjoyable day. They arrived back at the room late in the afternoon to discover all the dresses had been delivered. “Excellent,” Marie said when she saw all the outfits hanging from the top bar of a luggage trolley that had been wheeled into the room. She walked over to them and looked at them in the clear, zippered, plastic bags they had been placed in. “Comment adorable.” She plucked a cream coloured dress from the rack. “We shall check these for fit, oui.” It was not a question, and Kelly had little choice as Marie escorted her into the bedroom. “We don’t need the diapers,” Kelly said as she saw Marie take one from a package that had been delivered with other things. “Don’t be silly Kelly. It is how they are worn. It is tres comme.” “But…” “Hush now,” Marie said as she tossed the diaper on the bed and then picked Kelly up and set her beside it. Kelly realised that those littles that proved themselves incapable of taking care of themselves (and she knew she was not in that camp at all) really would have little ability to resist once a giant took them under their care. She could try to fight off Marie, but she was pretty certain all she would do was annoy the tall woman. Marie looked like a slim model, but she was all dense muscle, and she easily handled Kelly as if she were a kitten. Kelly was stripped naked and left lying blushing on the bed as Marie went to hang the dress she had been wearing in the closet, checking the state of the training pants at the same time. She returned to the bed with a smile as she grabbed the diaper and shook it out, the plastic rustling and popping. Unlike the woman at the store, she did not ask Kelly to lift her bottom, but grabbed Kelly’s ankles and lifted her bottom from the bed so she could slide the diaper under her. Marie pushed her legs apart so she could draw the diaper front up between her legs to be fastened securely with tapes. A quick check to make sure the diaper was on correctly and then Marie pulled Kelly to her feet and put her on a chair. “Stand up tall, hands over your head,” she ordered as she then drew one of the vests down her body. Next with the frilly bloomers, pulled up her legs and over the diaper. Finally, the dress was put on her, the sash tied into a big bow at the back. Marie turned her then so she could look at herself in the vanity mirror. An adorable little girl stared back at her from the mirror. “I could eat you up you are so cute,” Marie said and placed a kiss on the top of her head. She then fussed with the dress a bit before declaring it a perfect fit. “Now for the next one,” she said happily as she carefully removed the first from Kelly. After the impromptu fashion show, Marie took Kelly down to the hotel’s restaurant for dinner, then back to her room where she put her to bed. “I was told you need to get some rest, so I want to promise me you’ll go to sleep,” Marie said. “I promise,” Kelly said. “Good girl,” the woman said and kissed her on the forehead. She smelled nice, Kelly thought. Then she was out of the room, turning the lights off behind her. Kelly heard her exit the room. She untaped the diaper she had been left it and tossed it into the trashcan, then found a pair of regular panties from her carry-on bag. She was going to actually sleep, it had been a busy day, and she still had a touch of jet lag, but she was not going to sleep in a diaper. Sprawling out on her bed Kelly closed her eyes and breathed slowly, in through her nose, out through her mouth, until she was asleep. Hours later a knocking on her door woke her. She sat up, fumbled for a t-shirt, and then went and opened the door. Steven stood out there. “Where have you been?” she asked. “I have some more information on the others in the tournament.” “Show me.” He set up a laptop on the coffee table, pulled a chair up close. The giant-sized table was low enough that Kelly could kneel and see the computer. Caroline Jay, tall amazon, had entered a few small tournaments, won a few, no real details on her. Otto Kruugen, short giant, almost an inbetweener, she had heard of him. Old man, had been playing for years. She watched some of the videos of him playing for nearly thirty minutes before Steven asked, “Well?” “Caroline is either some kind of ringer or out of her depth. Otto was good.” “Was?” “Old man, losing his edge. This might be his last hurrah. I couldn’t have beat him when he was in his prime, no one here could, but now… Kind of sad really.” “Don’t let sympathy interfere with the job I brought you in for.” “I won’t,” she retorted. “Otto has class, he doesn’t want sympathy. He is here for a good game. I’m going to give everyone at that table a good game.” Steven regarded her for several seconds, then nodded. “Good.” He stood. “Read over that, then go back to bed and get some more rest. Tomorrow this begins.” “I understand,” she told him with a nod. The next morning Marie took Kelly out to a beauty parlour, to get her hair done. She was worried that the beautician, who was not listening to Kelly at all, was going to cut her hair very short and put it up in little girl bunches. She had seen some other littles with the style of hair. However she got a trim instead and then her hair was worked on, layer cuts to give it volume, and curled just enough to give it bounce. And how it shone once she was done. It was, with the curls, a little juvenile, but not terribly so. She could live with it. And then she got a manicure and a pedicure, which were a pleasant way to top things off. Her nails had been filed in a round shape, with pale, pink polish put on them. That was also a little juvenile, but she thought it looked better than if they were left plain. Back at the hotel room, Marie helped her into the pale cream dress, with the flouncy skirt and the sash and bow of a cafe au lait colour. Of course, the diapers and the bloomers and the vest were the foundation of it all, but Kelly had gotten used to the idea she had to be comme il faut as Marie often said. Her new watch and a choker with the angel on it were added, for a touch of colour, but Marie would not let her wear the hair combs. A pair of black mary janes finished off the outfit, and Marie handed her the small leather clutch purse that held everything she needed. “Are you ready?” Marie asked. She sounded nervous. Kelly smiled. “I am. Let’s go.” She was not nervous, she was anxious, like it was Christmas morning and there was a tree surrounded by presents awaiting her. Marie added one more accessory to her own outfit, a fancy looking bag that for all its designer roots was obviously a diaper bag. On their way to the casino, several people gushed over the pretty little, commenting Marie on her pretty little daughter. Marie did not correct them, but a wink she gave to Kelly said she was playing. They crossed through the casino, attracting less attention because most people were focused on their games, and entered a small, side venue. A man in a black tuxedo stood guard there, as it were. “Can I help you?” he asked Marie. Marie gave Kelly and unneeded nudge forward. Kelly opened her clutch and took out the invitation and the receipt that showed a deposit of the entry stake into the casino’s account. The man looked at the invitation and receipt for a moment, then placed them on the small lectern he stood behind and reached for his phone. He spoke to someone in rapid French that Kelly could not understand. Marie leaned close and whispered into Kelly’s ear, “He is making sure the ticket was not stolen.” “I don’t think I would be brazen enough to come here with a stolen ticket,” she told Marie, though she had no idea how Steven had gotten that ticket. The man put the phone down. “Welcome to the Cartes D'or Triomphantes Miss Fortuna. This way please.” He led her and Marie pass the barrier of velvet ropes into a small room, dominated by a bar and several card tables, only one of which was being used. Three men sat around it. She recognised them all. Otto, Izzy and Charles. “Gentlemen, May I introduce you to Miss Fortuna,” he paused and added, “the little. She will be playing with you.” All three men looked surprised for a moment, but Otto and Izzy seemed to recover faster. “Miss Fortuna, your fellow players, are Izzy Aster, Charles Wright and Otto Kruugen.” “I’m pleased to meet you,” she said and found herself curtseying for lack of a better response. All three stood as the man pulled out a chair, took a booster seat from a bellhop who had appeared at his elbow, placed the booster seat on the chair and then helped Kelly up into her chair as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do as a poker tournament. Izzy and the others sat once more. “This seems a little odd,” Charles said. He had a nasal voice, wore a white tuxedo jacket like the other men, though not as well as the other two. “Well, I’m not sure of that,” Izzy said as he sat back in his chair and picked up a glass of an amber liquid from the table in front of him. “Think I’ve heard of this Miss Fortuna before and figure she’s got as much right to be here if she’s paid up.” He spoke with a drawl and punctuated his statement by drawing a finger across a thick eyebrow. “I saw you play at the Cartes D'or Petites, was it four years ago?” Otto asked. “I recall thinking that if you were a more mature player, you would have won.” “Why thank you Mr Kruugen, and I hope to perform better.” “Please, call me Otto, if I might call you Kelly.” “Thank you, Otto.” Neither of the other men asked to be on a first name basis with her, but they regarded her as if she were more than just a child. None of them, not even Otto, were taking her serious yet. An attendant approached. “Would you like something to drink Miss Fortuna?” “I would like…” “Non, non,” Marie said, stepping forward. “Nothing to drink Kelly,” she said, sounding stern and unyielding. The three men laughed, though Otto at least tried to cover it up a little. Kelly felt her face grow warm, but she took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course Miss Frontè.” Marie moved back to the bar, taking a seat on a stool where she could watch. Kelly noted, sourly, that Marie ordered a drink for herself. Do as I say, not as I do. She had hated that kind of thing when she had been a little girl. The man in the black tuxedo approached them, with him was Caroline Jay. She was dressed in a red cocktail dress, wearing stiletto heels that made her taller than her escort by a few inches. Red hair, red dress, black heels with a red sole and smoke coloured stockings. Kelly had never managed to fill out her one cocktail dresses like that and decided that she would start to hate Caroline now. The three men stood. Kelly, being a woman, was not required to, which was good as getting down from the booster seat in the dress she was in would have been almost certainly embarrassing. “Gentleman, lady, Caroline Jay. Miss Jay, Otto Kruugen, Charles Wright, Izzy Aster and Kelly Fortuna.” Caroline offered polite handshakes to all the men first, then bent slightly to offer a hand to Kelly from across the table as the man in the black tuxedo slid her chair in for her. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, a puzzled expression on her face as if she was trying to figure out a joke. “Thank you, Miss Jay,” Kelly said, a fake smile plastered on her face. Lyle Redmond was the next to enter and to be introduced. “I was planning on arriving a little later, but then I head a most peculiar story,” he said as he took his seat (no one had stood for him as he was a gentleman). “And here she is, a little, sitting here ready to play.” He smiled at her. “You know this is not a card matching game don’t you sweetie?” Okay, she hated Caroline less now. She only had so much hate inside her, and now most of it was being directed at him. “Miss Fortuna if you please, Mr Redmond,” she said, as if she were not seated on a booster seat. “And I believe that I am aware of the rules, but if I have any questions, I am glad I have an expert to ask.” Lyle actually smiled, looking a little smug as he took the compliment for himself. She looked down the table. “I am sure Otto will help me if I need it.” Lyle frowned, not appreciating the implied insult. “Oh, I am sure I won’t need to explain the rules to the young woman who plays as well as you do Kelly.” Lyle’s frowned deepened, as if he was somehow offended that she and Otto were on a first name basis. Conrad Revel was the last to come in, a few minutes before the game was to start. Short black hair, slicked back, a nose just a little too small for his face for him to be handsome. He was introduced, offered his hand to both Caroline and Kelly, though he was just as perplexed as most of them by her presence. A moment after he was seated and had been served a drink a tall, bald giant approached them. He wore black pants and a white shirt, tightly buttoned at his wrists, narrow black bands cinching his shirt sleeves in about mid-forearm. He clicked his heels sharply together and bowed. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am Andre Fulover, your dealer, unless there are any concerns?” No one voiced any. He took a step forward to stand behind the chair he would be occupying. “We are playing seven card stud poker, standard rules, house limit on betting will stand, unless those players involved all ask that it be suspended. Are there any questions?” No one had any. “As we have a little at the table I must ask if she is properly attired.” He did not look at Kelly. “She is,” Marie said. “Very good, then…” “I think I would like to verify that. I could check,” Lyle said, shifting as if to get out of his seat. However Marie was there before he could even start to stand. “No need Mr Redmond.” She then picked Kelly out of the seat, turned her, so her back as to the table, and then before Kelly could even think of doing anything her skirt had been lifted, and the bloomers pulled down, likely revealing the white plastic of the disposable to everyone. “Well I am satisfied,” Lyle Redmond said. There was laughter around the table, and Kelly felt her cheeks grow how. Marie straightened her clothing out and then set Kelly back down in her booster seat. To the table and to Lyle, in particular, she said, “Please respect my professionalism in matters of child and little care.” Then with a sniff, she returned to the bar. Kelly took a few deep breaths to calm herself down and wondered if she could ask that they respect her dignity. “Well, I guess we’ve been told,” Lyle said with another laugh. The dealer nodded in thanks to Marie and then to the table said, “While in deference to littles and the length of the game a wet diaper will be ignored, this is a civilised game, and none wish to be inconvenienced by a messy accident. If that is to happen Miss Fortuna will forfeit her place in this game and her stake.” “Wait? What? What if any of the other players mess their pants?” Kelly demanded. The dealer looked shocked. “Miss Fortuna, as I said this is a civilised game, I will not hear talk like that.” Marie was once more at Kelly side. “She of course apologises, don’t you Kelly?” The last thing Kelly wanted to do is apologise, but that is what she did. “I am sorry for my language and insinuation of lack of control amongst my respected opponents.” “And I will see her properly punished later,” Marie said. “What?” Kelly asked. “Very well,” the dealer said as he pulled his chair out and took a seat. “Let’s begin.” Kelly watched at Mr Fulover dealt out the cards on the table. Meant for giants, each card was more than twice the size of her hand. She was glad they were laid out in front of her. It would prove difficult for her to hold them. Kelly took the first three hands and suspected the Ken had cleaned up as he would have started betting high on the first few hands. The first two pots had been small, her face up cards good enough the others players had folded early. The third one ended up with just her and Lyle Redmond, as she had suspected, he was disadvantaged when it was just him against her. He called what he thought was a bluff on her part and raised as high as the table limit would allow. She guessed he expected the little girl to fold when faced with his confidence. She called and raised again, suggested that perhaps they up the table limit. He refused, likely because she had suggested it. If she had just been a little patient, he might have asked for the increase in the table limits, and she could have taken him for a lot more. Three hands in and she was up two million. All the people around the table were looking at her with more respect, perhaps, but all of them, especially Lyle, looked as if they were trying to figure out how a magician had done the trick. As if my winning is an illusion, she thought angrily to herself. The game continued, she won and lost, won a little more than she had expected, but the game was far from over. Then, about two and half hours in, after they ended a hand that Otto took, the dealer said they would break for thirty minutes. Kelly stretched in her chair, thinking a break would be nice. Marie was there, helping out of the chair, and then to Kelly surprise, she was turned about, her skirt lifted, and Marie delivered five smacks to her diapered bottom. She then turned Kelly around again to face the dealer and said, “Apologise for your bad behaviour earlier.” It was more surprising and embarrassing than it was painful, but she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes. When Marie had said that she would be punished Kelly had assumed she had been joking or lying, but that spanking made it clear the maid/nanny was pretty serious about it. Kelly did as she was told. “I’m sorry.” The dealer smiled. “I appreciate your apology, I am sure we won’t have any more trouble.” Kelly could see people around them smiling, as if what had just happened was perfectly sensible. The dealer went off to wherever dealers took their breaks, and the other players drifted towards the bar. Kelly found herself being led by the hand to a nearby private washroom. “I’m sorry I had to punish you like that,” Marie said, “but you should remember to be polite and follow the rules. You do not want them dismissing you from the tournament do you?” Kelly shook her head. “No.” “Good. Now, let’s get you undressed.” “Undr…” was all she had the time to say before Marie loosened the bow at the back of the dress, raised her arms with a quick swipe, and then pulled the dress off of her. Then the bloomers and diapers went, and she was sat on a small toilet. “Alright, try to pee or poop if you can.” Kelly flushed again, this time she was sure her whole body was red. “Can you not watch me?” Marie made a clucking sound but turned away from Kelly to give her some privacy as she went to lay out a fresh diaper on the change table. Kelly managed to pee a little after a few minutes of embarrassment and Marie quickly had her in a new diaper, congratulating her on using the potty like a big girl. As she was dressed again, Kelly said, “I just won eight million euros.” “I know,” Marie said as she brushed out Kelly’s hair, making it neat once more. “But you congratulated me on using the toilet,” Kelly said, wondering if the woman might see how ridiculous it was. Marie smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re such a smart little girl, keeping dry and playing cards so well.” Apparently recognising the ridiculousness of the situation a little might find themselves in was a weak point for giants. From the diaper bag, she brought out a sippy-cup and a bottle of water. She poured about half the water into the cup and then offered it to Kelly. “Really?” Kelly asked. “I don’t want you to spill anything on your dress.” Thirsty, Kelly took the cup, though she rolled her eyes as she drank. Marie escorted her back to the table in time for the next hand. Another two and a half hours and Kelly was still eight million ahead, the last half of the game stagnating for her with her wins and losses being about even. The dealer called a four-hour break. Kelly found herself back in the hotel room, undressed and put to bed for a nap before the next round started. Kelly was beginning to think that she might have made a mistake agreeing to help Steven, if this was the way she was going to be treated. There was a knock at her door, Steven’s voice, “Are you awake.” She got up, remembered she was still in the diaper that Marie had put her to bed in. She grabbed the familiar t-shirt and pulled it on, glad it was long enough to hang down over the infantile underwear, then went to the door and opened it. “Where have you been?” Kelly asked. “That’s none of your concern,” he told her, not unkindly. “I need to know what your assessment of the other players is.” Of course, he needed her to tell him. She was the expert, and it did not matter if she was wearing a diaper, or had been spanked, she was a grown woman brought here to do a grown woman’s job. They sat at the table and Kelly gave him a quick rundown. “Charles and Caroline both come across as technically skilled, but they don’t have to feel for the game.” “What do you think that means?” “I think they both have been recently taught high-level skills by people who know what they are doing, but you can’t teach the gut level of understanding. They are not going to be able to hold on for long.” “Any idea who might have taught them?” Kelly shook her head. Steven looked a little disappointed, which bothered Kelly more than she would have thought. “What about the others?” “Izzy is no different from usual. I expect him to be out of the game tomorrow at the latest. Otto is good, but, he’s worn out.” She felt bad saying it. “I don’t think he can keep it up for more than another set or two. “As for Lyle, he’s better than I thought. He might hang on to the end. One on one I could beat him easily.” “And Revel?” “Nothing has changed in my opinion on him. He’s good. I can probably beat him.” “Anything else?” Kelly frowned. “What do you mean?” “Is there anything else you have noticed.” “Like what?” Again, a flash of disappointment. “Never mind, you’re supposed to be napping now, why don’t you go back to bed.” Just like that, he was dismissing her. “What was I supposed to notice?” He looked at her for several seconds, then shook his head. “No time to teach you. Go and get some rest. You’re here to win, getting tired or worried won’t help with that.” She wanted to argue, but he stood and walked away, leaving her sitting alone on the couch. “Damn,” she said softly, then sighed and went back to her bedroom. A short nap would do her some good. Four hours after the last hand of the first round had been played Kelly was seated at the table again, getting a new hand dealt out to her. She won four times in a row, small pots, but it put her up to nine million. Then Otto and And Conrad went back and forth for a few hands before Lyle Redmond took a big pot. Then Caroline won the largest pot of the night with three queens, and Kelly realised she had better not discount the other woman’s technical skills or her luck. The hands came and went, the better players moving ahead or at least staying even while the less able players had their stakes slowly bled away. The second round ended and Kelly felt exhausted. A bit of jet lag and a lot of demanding poker. She was glad to see she was not the only one looking tired. Marie took her up to her room, got her undressed and cleaned up, and then put to bed, in a pair of the training panties rather than a diaper. She was tired, and her head was full of games she had played. Things she should have done and things she should not have. Everything the others players had done, how they had looked when they did it. She fell asleep to dreams where she was playing poker, and the stakes were the players’ ages, where going bust meant returning to infancy. She woke to the sound of soft voices in the suite. One was Steven’s, the other, female, sounded familiar. There were only a few words that she could make out, but the conversation was intimate, private. She heard them go into Steven’s room. The soundproofing between the suite’s room was a little lacking, and she heard the sounds of soft feminine gasps and of the bed shifting under the weight of two. Kelly told herself just to pull the pillow over her head, but she was also encouraging herself to sneak out of the room and peak in on Steven and his partner. She wondered what Steven looked like naked. She knew he would be all hard muscle. What about skin? Did he have any scars? What would they feel like under her fingers? She imagined the two spotting her, inviting her to join them. The complexities of little/big physical relationships were smoothed over by the rules of fantasy. Her hands slid into the waistband of her thick panties, and she turned over in the bed, moving slowly, glad her slight weight did not make the mattress move too much. Face pressed into the pillow to muffle her own soft cries, bottom pushed into the air with her hands in her panties, she brought herself to orgasm twice, an unknown participant with Steven and his partner. She finally fell asleep, spent, though the sound of Steven and the woman were still in her ears. Her dreams took on a far more welcome more erotic cast. In spite of her dreams, Kelly has slept well and woke refreshed to a gentle shaking. Marie was sitting on the side of her bed, hand on her shoulder. “Bonjour,” she said with a smile. Kelly rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands and mumbled a sleepy, “Good morning.” “Time to get up,” Marie said with a laugh as she pulled back the covers and the with growing familiarity grabbed the waistband of Kelly’s panties and yanked them off. “Hey,” Kelly said, more surprised at the moment than angry. It was only as she saw Marie looking closely at the thick cotton garment that she remembered her late night, erotic activities. Of course, any giant finding a damp undergarment on a little would take an interest. “That… it’s not…” Marie looked at her and smiled. “Don’t be worried. I know some older littles get a special enjoyment out of their padding.” Kelly was about to object, but she could not bring herself to say that she had been listening to the activities in the other room and masturbating while fantasising being involved in a threesome. And she was still too sleepy to come up with a good lie. With a smile, Marie dropped the incriminating undergarment into the room’s laundry hamper and then came back to the bed, swept Kelly up off of it, swung her about and then placed her on the floor. “Come along, let’s get you cleaned up.” She hustled the naked little out of the bedroom into the suite’s main room. Kelly almost fell in the resisting, worried Steven, and even worse, his night guest, might be there, and Marie caught her up and pushed her along. The room beyond was empty, and relief made Kelly relax for a few seconds. Long enough for Marie to get her into the bathroom and on the toilet. It had been a long night, and she had to go, which earned her more praise from Marie. Marie let her shower on her own, after putting a shower cap over her head, as if she could not be trusted to remember. Well, to be fair to the giant, Kelly usually did not have professionally styled hair to care for, so she might have not worried about it. Marie had picked out an outfit, pink voluminous shorts with wide suspenders and a white blouse. They went down to the hotel restaurant where Marie ordered her a late breakfast—Kelly was disappointed she did not get any bacon, but the fruit and yoghurt were good. Then they had an appointment at the small beauty parlour in the hotel. Kelly was not in the chair long, all the beautician did there was restyle her hair, changing it slightly and making it completely neat, and her nails got a little buffing and colour touchups. Back to the room, Marie helped her get dressed, starting of course with the diaper. After she had that on her, she helped Kelly off the bed and to the floor, then gave her a gentle pat and rub on the back of her diaper before going to get the rest of the clothing ready. The dress was a warm, pale shade of yellow, and Marie put the hair combs into Kelly's hair, completing the effect the beautician had started. “Comme il faut.” Marie said with a smile as she clasped the choker with the star around Kelly’s slim neck. “Let’s go,” Marie said as she picked up the diaper bag. The second day of the tournament began without introductions. It also began with a realisation of who Steven had been with. Caroline, dressed in a smart, sophisticated pants suit, greeted the fellow players and Kelly knew she had been with Steven the night before. There was a moment of an erotic thrill as her fantasy from the night before had an identity for the giant female, but that was washed away with confusion almost immediately. (Which was fortunate because she did not need to have Marie to find her in an arousal dampened diaper) Why had Steven been with the woman? Weren’t she and Steven in this together? Was he trying to find out something about one of the other players? If so why hadn’t he told her? Was he looking for a new partner? Had she not played well enough the day before? Well, she would show him that that was a mistake. Confusion was easily forged into anger, and anger honed into razor-sharp determination. She was focused, she made no mistakes, and she played her cards and the others players as well. She would fold sooner than she needed to, or hold off, bet lower or higher. It had an effect on the others players, and they did not even recognise it, at first. Otto and then Conrad caught on after the first hour. Lyle and Izzy seemed to catch on but had not yet pinpointed what was causing the change in the game after the second hour. Kelly was not winning every hand, but she was pulling ahead of everyone else. There was a short break while a new deck was put in play. She looked at the other players, a few of them had stepped away from the table. Lyle and Caroline were speaking, Otto was talking to one of the servers and Conrad speaking to one of the spectators. Kelly looked around, returned a wave from Marie, but she did not see Steven. Was he not watching at all? Did he not see her dominate the game? Annoying. The dealer called the players back, and a new hand was dealt out. They played a few more hands, Kelly won them all, before the dealer called for a thirty-minute break. Kelly looked around, expecting that Marie would be at her side, ready to rush her off to the bathroom, as if she was only seconds from losing control. But the maid/nanny was nowhere around. She got down from her seat, stretched out a little. Playing so focused was exhausting and not much fun, but she had decided it was how she was going to play. “I am quite impressed.” She turned, looked up. Standing there was Conrad. “Thank you.” “I must apologise,” he said to her. “I was somewhat dismissive of you when I saw you would be playing.” Kelly was aware but she said, “You were polite enough not to say anything.” “Have a drink with me,” he said suddenly. “We’ll drink to each other’s skill.” “Well, maybe…” “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put you at odds with your nanny.” “She’s just a maid,” Kelly said, “and I would love to toast to your skill.” And why should she not have a drink? Lyle went to the bar, came back with two small tumblers. He presented one to her. “It’s top-shelf stuff, just enough for a taste. Neither of us wants to dull our game.” “Of course.” She took the tumbler her offered, the one with less liquor in it. That was fair, she had less body mass. Kneeling her held out his glass and said, “To skilled players who challenge us.” “To skilled players,” she replied, and they tapped their glasses together. She drank. It was like warm honey and fire. “I’ll have to get a bottle of this stuff later,” Kelly said, looking at the empty glass as if she wished there were more. “I’ll buy you one at the end of the game.” She knew she was there to make this man lose, but she did not know why, and she saw no reason not to be polite. “Thank you.” “Come for a walk with me. A little fresh air to clear our heads.” Kelly nodded and smiled. “Please.” Finally, someone treating her as a skilled player and not as if she were some sort of clever, trained animal. She grabbed the clutch she had brought with her, taking a moment to pull out her phone and check it. She set the alarm just so she would have ten minutes warning before the game was to restart. As they stepped out the glass doors, into a balcony overlooking the garden, Conrad said, “Would you like to look at the ocean? That path circles the parking lot and comes out at a lookout point.” “Thank you, that sounds nice.” They walked along the path, Conrad taking slower, smaller strides so she did not have to run. They talked about the game, or hands that had come up and other games they had played. After several minutes they came out on the high lookout point where below them stretched cliffs and parts of the city and the ocean. Kelly stepped up on a raised platform so she could lean out over the rail and into the ocean breeze. “This is beautiful,” she said. “Yes, it is. You present a very fetching picture yourself, quite adorable.” She decided to take that as a compliment and said, “Thank you, Mr Revel.” He walked up the railing, close to where she stood. “You play very well, for a little,” he told her. That she decided to not take as a compliment. “I play very well period.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I would ask that you drop out of the tournament. This is not something you should deal with.” “I am afraid I am going to have to say no.” He sighed, looked at his watch. “I was afraid of that. I did wish to spare you some embarrassment.” “I don’t think I am the one who needs to be worried about being embarrassed about losing.” He smiled and reached into his jacket, pulled out a glass vial with a light blue liquid in it. He looked at it for a second, then hurled it out into the air, over the railing. “What was that?” Kelly asked him. “A counter agent Miss Fortuna. You’ll excuse me now.” He turned and walked away, long, fast strides that set a pace that Kelly would have a hard time matching. “Counter agent for what?” she called after him. Then she felt her stomach cramp, and she almost fell to her knees from the pain of it. Her eyes widened. Had he poisoned her? Was she going to die? Her insides cramped again, and she felt a pressure growing in her bottom. Was she going to mess herself? If that happened, if she could not get cleaned up fast enough, it might get her kicked out of the tournament. She opened her clutch, she could call someone for help. Another cramp made her gasp. Could anyone get there in time? She did not have Marie’s number. She could call the hotel, see if they could put her in contact. She moaned with the pain. If any time she needed a nanny it was now dammit. There was something else in the clutch, besides the phone. A key fob. Her head snapped up. They had circled the parking lot, were close to it. There! Steven’s silver sports car. She ran towards it, breathing heavily from the pain in her stomach, one of her hands was pressed against her diapered bottom as if that might stop the hot mess that was threatening to fill her seat. Close. She pressed the key fob. There was a beep. She heard the click of the doors unlocking. “Thank god,” she gasped. As if someone had considered the very possibility she was in, the passenger door had swung itself open, a small set of stairs had unfolded from the rocker panel. That was good because she was positive if she had had to jump up to try to grab the door handle or climb up into the car she would have messed herself. Lying on the seat, buttocks clamped tight, she reached for the GPS screen, tapped it twice, and then when it lit up tapped the red button. “Help,” she begged, near tears. “What is it Miss Fortuna?” someone asked male and calm. “I drank something,” she did not feel up to explaining the complete details, “I think I am going to shit myself.” There was a hiss, and a small tray opened from the dash. “There are several white syringes, get the green tipped one.” She looked into the tray, grabbed the pen-shaped device with the green tip. “Got it,” she said as another wave of pain hit her. “Put the green tip against your thigh and press down. It will go through clothing.” She pulled her skirt back and jammed the green tip down against her bloomers. It felt like she had been stung by a bee and she let out a small yelp of pain. “Good,” the person on the other end said. “Now take the two small white pads with wires on them and put them on bare skin over your tummy. Hurry, you’re almost done.” She did what she was told, pulling her skirt up, thankful for the empire waist that easily allowed her to get it above her stomach. The pads went on the bare skin of her stomach. “Done.” “Deep breath," the voice ordered her. She took one. A strange tingly feeling spread through her stomach, and twice she felt all the muscles in her abdomen twitch hard. The feeling that was going to poop went away so suddenly she was worried she had, but patting the back of her diaper and then slipping a hand into it revealed she was clean still. “That should take care of it,” the voice told her. “My stomach still hurts,” she said, more of a whine in her tone that she would have liked. “I can’t do anything about that. It will get a little better in a few minutes and I will let Mr Artimage know what happened so he can arrange to take care of you.” “Do you have to?” she asked. A soft chuckle. “Sorry Miss Fortuna.” “And I won’t…” “You don’t have to worry about messing yourself. In fact, you will probably be badly constipated for the next week or two. Sorry.” “Better than the alternative,” Kelly said, rubbing her aching stomach. “You had better get back to you game Miss Fortuna.” “Right!” she said up, groaned, and then climbed down from the car. She watched, impressed in spite of the pain, as the small stairs retracted back into the rock panel, closing up smoothly as if they were never there, and the door closed itself. A beep and flash of lights told her the car had locked itself. She put the key fob back in her clutch and ran as fast as her pained stomach would allow back to the casino. She passed through the doors just as her phone started beeping, warning that she had ten minutes to get back. Plenty of time to spare she thought, though it had seemed much longer. Before the feeling of relief could fully settle on her, she was snatched up and hugged tightly by a scared looking Marie. Rapid fire french, sounding equally concerned and relieved as Marie petted her and stroked her, looking for any sign of injury. Finally seeming to remember that Kelly did not speak French she said, “Oh, where did you go Kelly? I was so worried about you. I was called away and then delayed and…” Then sounding cross, she said, “You should not go anywhere on your own.” She heard someone say, thought it might have been Lyle Redmond, “I’m a big fan of harnesses when I am out and about with my girls.” “I’m okay Marie. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” She did feel bad for the woman and remembered how not that long ago she had desperately needed her. Marie took a deep breath. “Let’s get you to the bathroom, we have little time.” She put Kelly back on her feet and grabbed her hand. “Now just a moment,” Conrad said. She looked towards him, that smiling face with his pudgy nose. “While I hate to embarrass her I would ask that the state of her diaper be checked. I thought I caught a whiff of something when she came in.” “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Marie growled. “This is the break, and I am taking her to the bathroom.” “Ah, I am sorry,” the man in the black tuxedo said. “However Miss Fortuna is in the play area, and the rules, well, they are the rules.” Marie muttered something softly, angrily that Kelly was certain was French swearing. Then she spun Kelly around, knelt down and pulled up her skirts, skimmed her bloomers down around her ankles, bent her forward slightly and pulled the back of her diaper away from her. “See. Perfectly clean.” Kelly wondered if the pain in her stomach might kill her before the humiliation of the current moment did. She heard the man step closer, then felt fingers on and in her diaper. “Clean as you say,” he announced. “Of course she is, of all the… as if I would not have…” she pulled the bloomers back in place and smoothed the skirt down. “Oh, there is no time to take you to the bathroom.” “I’ll be fine,” Kelly told her. “It’s okay. I really don’t have to go.” Marie had turned her back to face her, reached up and adjusted a hair comb. “Very well, but nothing to drink.” “That’s fine, I’m not very thirsty.” Her gaze sought out Conrad’s and when she saw him, she gave him a tight smile. She was pleased to see the look of discomfort on his face. Beating him had become very important to her because the momentary discomfort he felt was nothing compared to the churning in her own guts. The second part of that round of play was not as good for Kelly as the earlier one had been. The pain in her stomach made it hard to focus. She did not lose anything, but the flow of the game changed, Lyle, Otto and Conrad all moving ahead, mostly to the detriment of Izzy, Charles and Caroline. She was relieved when the round finally ended, with both Caroline and Izzy likely to be knocked out in the next round. Kelly just wanted to curl up in her bed and hope the pain in her stomach would fade. “You look a little pale,” Marie told her, brushing a bit of her hair back from her forehead. “I’m just tired,” she said, unable to explain why she felt so bad. Marie nodded. “We’ll get you to your room and you can rest up.” Holding Kelly’s hand firmly she led the smaller woman back to the room. Steven was waiting. “I’m sorry…” Marie said. Steven held a hand up to silence her. “It is not your fault Miss Frontè. In fact, we both know who is at fault here.” He stared down at Kelly. Kelly was seized by the desire to hide behind Marie. It wasn’t fair. She had been poisoned and her stomach was killing her. She did not need Steven staring at her like that. “She’s already apologised,” Marie said, coming to Kelly’s defence. “I’m sure she has. Come back in an hour please. Kelly will apologise to you again then, and you can be certain she will mean it.” “Yes sir,” Marie said. She put a comforting hand on Kelly’s shoulder and then left. Steven went and sat down in the couch. She stood where she was, certain she was not being invited to sit. “Are you stupid?” he asked her. “I’m not stupid.” “Well, you acted like it. Conrad Revel is not your friend. You don’t take anything to drink from him, you don’t go anywhere with him. That is basic!” She flinched at the volume of his voice. “I’m here to gamble,” she said, trying to sound sure. “And if you had not gotten lucky, if you had not had the support you did, that would be over. You’d have been kicked out of the tournament. That would cost me a great deal of money, but it would have likely meant that Conrad would win.” He stood up and came to stand over her. “I will not let that happen,” he told her. “I’m sorry,” she told him, eyes prickling, “my stomach hurts. I just want to get some rest.” She was whining, almost crying, but her stomach hurt and Steven was so damn intimidating. Steven shook his head, returned the couch and sat. “I don’t know how to deal with children or littles,” he told her. “I deal with problems, I am a blunt instrument. I am afraid I am out of my depth trying to sort you out.” “Then what are you going to do?” Kelly asked softly. “Wait.” “What?” “Wait,” he said again. Kelly realised it was a command. She waited, put her hands on her stomach, hoping that would ease the pain. Sometime later, just a few minutes at most, someone knocked at the door. “I don’t know how to deal with you,” he told her as he stood, “but I found someone else who is good at this sort of thing.” He opened the door. Kelly turned to see Caroline Jay come in. The two embraced for a moment, then Steven stepped aside. “She’s all yours.” “What?” Kelly asked. “Caroline is working with me now. She will help get you sorted out.” “What?” Kelly asked again. “Everything you need is in the bathroom,” Steven told her. “What is happening?” Kelly asked, then moaned softly as her stomach cramped again. “I can’t win,” Caroline said. “Steven here has told me you can.” She looked doubtful. “She was dominating that table today, up until she was poisoned. She’ll come through.” “Okay,” Caroline said to Steven. “What is she doing here?” Kelly asked Steven. “She,” Caroline said, “is here to get a naughty little sorted out. And you will refer to me as Miss Jay from now on. Now come along.” She grabbed Kelly and marched her into the bedroom. Kelly threw a desperate look Steven’s way, but just met his stony gaze and knew no help would come from there. In Kelly's bedroom, Caroline stripped her down to the diaper. She was nowhere near as gentle as Marie but was careful of the clothing, and the dress was off her and hung up in short order. Caroline holding her hand, she was pulled into the bathroom where Caroline released her hand then turned on her. “I have babysat littles and spent several summers working in an Etiquette School. I know exactly how to deal with you and were you not needed I can assure you that you Kelly Fortuna are the exact sort of little I would demote back to diapers and her ABCs.” Kelly took a step back, but snake fast, Caroline grabbed her. She pulled her off balance and then across her lap as she sat down on the room’s toilet. With a quick motion, the tapes of her diaper were undone and it fell open under her. “You do not go with strangers.” Every word was punctuated by a crack of a slap across her butt. “You do not go with strangers,” she repeated and this time it was the backs of Kelly’s thighs that felt the sting of Caroline’s hand. “You do not take food or drink from strangers.” Again, her bottom was warmed. “You do not take food or drink from strangers.” The backs of her thighs were again slapped. Caroline continued those two lessons for a time. Long enough that Kelly, whose stomach still hurt, was crying uncontrollably and babbling apologies by the time Caroline seemed to tire of teaching the lesson about strangers. “If you’re Nanny is not around, stay where the tournament organisers can see you,” Caroline told her, then spanked her five times. “I’m sorry,” Kelly sobbed, just wanting the spanking and the humiliation and the pain in her guts to end. “Use your phone to call someone if your Nanny is not around.” Another five spanks. “I will, I will, please stop.” She felt so powerless across the Amazon’s lap. “Think about that poor woman, looking for you, not knowing what happened to you.” Caroline gave her six hard swats and Kelly was bawling. Then Caroline stood and lowered the spanked and naked little to the floor, the diaper falling away. Kelly tried her best to get control of herself, but for a time all she could do was stand there and cry. Caroline left her to sob as she went about with something else. By the time Kelly had enough control of herself to pay attention to what Caroline was doing the Amazon already had an enema bag with its hose set up and hanging from the curtain rod. Kelly shook her head, sniffed, and said, “No.” Caroline looked at her, perhaps a little bit of pity in her eyes. “Do you want your tummy to stop hurting?” Kelly nodded. “Then you are going to have to have this. Now, on your hands and knees, bum up in the air.” She wanted to refuse, she really did, but her stomach hurt so much. She did as she was told. As she knelt there on the cold tiles of the bathroom, she was reminded of the night before, when in a similar posture she had masturbated to the sound of Caroline and Steven making love. It made her giggle, though any desire to find humour in the situation was gone a moment later when the enema nozzle was pushed into her bottom and the flow started. If anything it was even more painful and she found herself sobbing as Caroline simply lectured her on her bad behaviour. And when the enema was completely administered and then expelled into the toilet Caroline patted her still hurting stomach and said. “Just three more.” “Three more?” Kelly cried. “Three more. And you’ll be getting at least one a day until your bowels get themselves sorted out.” She left Kelly sitting on the toilet as she went to prepare the second enema. “What have you learned?” she asked. Kelly sniffed. “Not to go anywhere with strangers, not to take food or drink from strangers and to stay with my nanny.” “Good girl. Now get on the floor, bum in the air.” The next two enemas were just as unpleasant as the first, but the last one, with various medications added to it, finally soothed her stomach, the pain finally leaving her. She was humiliated, exhausted and naked, but at least she was no longer in pain. Caroline put her facing one of the bathroom’s corners, the discarded diaper between her feet, in case she leaked. She heard Caroline moving about, cleaning things up and then heard her leave the room. Leaning forward she put her forehead against the cool tiles of the wall. She was glad she was not one of those littles who could not handle the adult world because she knew she could not handle their world. Outside she heard a knock on the door, footsteps, the door opening. “Kelly, come here,” she heard Steven call. She looked around, wondered if it would be okay to wrap a towel around herself. Somehow she did not think so. She walked from the bathroom. Marie was there, as was Steven. Caroline was nowhere to be seen. “Do you have something to say to Miss Frontè?” Kelly sniffed, feeling tears start in her eyes as she thought about how scared poor Marie had seemed when Kelly had come back. “I’m sorry Miss Frontè,” she cried, “I’m sorry, I won’t be naughty again.” Naughty? She supposed Caroline had used that word during the spanking, and now it jumped to her lips as if the most natural thing to say. “Please take care of her Miss Frontè. She’s had an enema, so make sure to get her cleaned up and rested.” “Yes sir,” she said to Steven. He left the room. Marie came forward and enfolded to still crying Kelly in her arms. “There there, I’m not mad at you, you’re a good girl, I know it.” After Steven coldness and Caroline’s punishments, Marie warmth was irresistible to Kelly who pushed her face into the larger woman’s side and sobbed. She was aware of being bathed, patted dry, and then carried to her bedroom where she was diapered without complaint. Marie sat down in one of the chairs, held Kelly tight in her arms, and sang softly in French. Her head pillowed on the amazon’s ample chest, Kelly fell asleep. Kelly stayed close to Marie when they returned to the casino. She tried to tell herself it was nothing, but the woman’s hand holding her did make her feel better. However, when she took her seat at the table, she was all business. She could not forget what had happened earlier. While the padding of the diaper cushioned her bottom, the unpadded backs of her thighs were tender against the surface of the booster seat. She wondered if Caroline was aware of that. The smile she offered as she sat suggested she might be. However, the sting on her thighs was a minor thing, nothing compared to the pain she had earlier dealt with. When the cards were dealt the sting faded from her mind. It was a hard game, everyone at their best. Kelly, Otto, Lyle and Conrad took most of the hands, small pots, larger pots, slowly draining away the stakes of the others. The round ended with Kelly taking a big pot with a full house, kings over twos. That took Caroline out of the game. Kelly gave her a smile, feeling as if she had gotten some of her own back. “That is it for this evening,” the dealer told them. Izzy looked up from his small pile of chips. “Looks like I’ll be in for one at least more hand tomorrow.” Kelly was confident that it would be only one hand unless he were going to ante and fold, but she figured Izzy would go out fighting. Charles Wright would not last much longer either. Then it would be the four best players. A gentle hand touched her shoulder. “Let’s go,” Marie said. Kelly let Marie help her from the chair and lead her by hand through the casino towards the hotel. The earlier feeling of comfort she had derived from the woman’s presence had faded a little in the heady excitement of the card game and all her winning hands. Still, she felt glad enough for the hand that held hers. Steven was not in the room when they entered. Marie undressed her, Kelly had given up the attempt to help, and then took her to the bathroom. She was put in a fresh diaper before being put into the bed, and she felt too tired to argue and did not even know if she would be awake enough to take it off once Marie left. The day had been so exhausting. Marie did not leave immediately, but sat at the bedside, holding Kelly’s hand, singing softly in French once more. Kelly slept deeply, and if Steven and Caroline made love in his room again, Kelly did not wake. In the morning Marie administered another enema to Kelly. It was not pleasant, but it was better than when Caroline had done it. Marie had her lie on her side, on some towels laid out on the floor, with a robe draped over her. And she gently patted Kelly’s head and rubbed her stomach, telling her it would be okay. A bath afterwards, then dressed in a set of rompers, Marie took Kelly down for breakfast. Kelly was in a diaper, just in case there was still a little bit of enema, Marie explained. It was an annoyingly enough valid concern that Kelly did not protest. “I don’t want this,” Kelly said, looking at the meal of bland cereal and yoghurt placed in front of her. “We want to give your tummy a chance to get better,” Maire said. “You don’t want that bug you picked up coming back.” Kelly agreed silently that she certainly did not want to be poisoned again. Marie smiled and picked up the spoon. “I can feed you if you want.” Kelly took the spoon from her and ate one of the most uninteresting meals she had ever had. “It’s like eating cardboard,” she said, somewhere halfway through the meal. “You’ve eaten cardboard?” “It is like I assume eating cardboard would be like.” Marie laughed softly and gave her hair a quick pat. “I so like taking care of you.” Kelly almost said that she liked having Marie take care of her, but it would be a lie. At least she thought it would be a lie. “I enjoy the time we spend together,” Kelly replied instead. Marie smiled, and Kelly wondered what the woman had heard in that statement. They went to the hairstylists again to get Kelly’s hair put right once more. There they discovered Caroline in one of the chairs, having the finishing touches put on her hairstyle. As she was helped into the chair by Marie, the maid/nanny said, “I’m sorry you lost Miss Jay. I’m sure Kelly is sorry as well.” Did she really believe that, or was this one of those deals where she was supposed to show good manners for the sake of good manners? Kelly said, “Yes, it was too bad.” The stylist tilted Kelly’s chair back so her hair could be rinsed. “It is the nature of these things,” she heard Caroline say to Marie. “You never play a game unless you can afford to lose.” The sound of rushing water kept her from hearing anything else they said, and she had to close her eyes against the shampoo. When her chair was straightened up, Caroline was gone. A trim, a rinse, drying and curling, it did not take too long before Kelly left the beauty parlour with Marie and returned to her room to get dressed. Marie chose the pale pink dress, with the red shoes. “You will look quite fierce in red my card playing warrior,” she said, dressing Kelly for the day. She did not let Kelly face the mirror as she put the combs in her hair again, and then applied a little makeup on her face. “There we go,” she finally said, and let Kelly see. After the last few days of seeing a cute little girl in the mirror Kelly was surprised to see, well, she still looked young, what with the dress, but something closer to a beautiful, not so little girl. “I want you to look fierce today,” Marie told her as she patted the combs into place. “This is fierce?” “Of course. Girls always look fierce when they are pretty.” Kelly smiled. “And is it,” she sounded the word carefully, “comme il faut?” “For any other little in the city? Non. But for my Jean d’Arc of the poker table, it is tres comme.” Kelly smiled for a moment, then frowned. “Didn’t they burn her?” “They would not have if I had been there,” Marie stated confidently. She laughed, and it felt good to laugh. Kelly would miss Marie when she left. But that was not today. Today Marie would hold her hand when she needed it, and Kelly would play poker. Otto knocked Izzy out of the game in the first hand. Six hands later Otto took the remainder of Charle’s stake, and he was out of the game as well. They took a short break to rearrange the table for the four remaining players. Lyle Redmond suggested a drink, to celebrate the winners to that point. Even if Caroline had not spanked the lesson into her Kelly would have refused to take a drink from him or at his instigation. She was kept from having to tell Lyle Redmond to ‘piss up a rope’ by Marie who brought a bottle of champagne from behind the bar and four glasses. “A celebratory drink is a wonderful idea,” she said and opened the bottle, a towel around the neck and a slow twist to avoid popping corks. She poured Kelly’s drink first. “Just a little,” she said with a smile, then filled the glasses of the other three. “Well then,” Lyle picked up his glass. “To the best players at the table, and of course Miss Fortuna.” Lyle and Conrad drank. Neither Otto nor Kelly did. “Something wrong?” the giant asked. He looked honestly confused. Kelly was about to say something, but Otto spoke first. “You are a boor, Mr Redmond. A churlish and insolent robber baron and were I ten years younger after I beat you in this game I would take you out back and thrash you.” He knocked his glass off the table. “However I am an old man.” He sat down in his chair. “I believe you will be beaten, though not by me, and even if you do win, I will make sure every casino along the coast knows you for the boor you are.” Several people applauded the old man’s words. Kelly did as well. She was saved from having to knock her glass off the table by Maire taking it away. Lyle looked around, looked both confused and angry at the way people reacted. “You’re fortunate you are an old man,” he said as he sat. “We will have politeness at this table,” the dealer told Lyle. “What? What about what he just said to me?” The dealer shrugged his shoulders. “The truth is always polite.” Then he dealt their next hand. Kelly believed with all her heart that Otto would be remembered for playing well, for the skilful hands in which he had defeated Izzy and Charles, for his speech in defence of a fellow player. He would not be remembered for winning this tournament. Kelly herself took him from the game, playing hard to make sure that was the case. She fought for it. And as the dealer declared him out of the game he reached out and put his hand on Kelly’s. “Thank you for a challenge my dear, and for giving me a worthy opponent to lose to.” Kelly felt tears in her eyes that for the first time in days had nothing to do with being treated like a child. “You’re welcome.” He smiled, took his hand off hers, then stood and bowed to the dealer. “I thank you for your skilled work, Monsieur Fulover, it was a pleasure to have a dealer so skilled.” Andre Fulover nodded but said nothing. Kelly supposed it was to maintain a semblance of neutrality. Otto then bowed to her. “Were skill and size matched you would stand a giant Miss Fortuna. I hope you might come and see me one day if you are willing to share stories with an old man.” Stupid tears, Kelly thought, but she smiled and nodded. “It would be an honour.” He nodded politely at Conrad and ignored Lyle as he turned and left. “We shall have a thirty-minute break,” the dealer announced. Marie took Kelly to the bathroom, and Kelly was glad enough to go because she wanted a few minutes to get her head together. She could have done without being undressed and put on the toilet by her maid/nanny, but Marie gave her some actual privacy. When Kelly returned to the table, she was ready to do. The seats had been switched about. She had the dealer on her right and Lyle and Conrad across from her. She smiled as she put a large, square, ten thousand Euro chip into the pot, next to the chips that Lyle and Corand had already anted. “Something amusing Miss Fortuna?” Conrad asked her. “No more friendly targets I have to worry about.” “Pardon?” She did not expand as the dealer dealt out their first two face down cards and their first face up. Kelly looked at the Queen of Spades that landed in front of her, smiled. Conrad got a Four of Clubs and Lyle had a King of Hearts. “Mr Redmond,” the dealer said. “Twenty thousand,” he said as he put two chips. And so the next part of the game started with only three players. Kelly played as well as she ever had, better really, because she was playing smart. She discovered a new source of, well, not fun, but satisfaction. It was not crazy bets and bluffs, but being focused on beating people she did not like. Who knew improving her game required playing with odious people? She moved ahead, a little bit at a time, taking equally from both Lyle and Conrad. Those two seemed to focus on one another, as if only the two men were at the table, though they forgot Kelly at their peril, because she was always there, ready to turn over a card, with a smile, and reveal she was the winner. Still, she suspected they would play their second round of the game that day, and perhaps tomorrow as well, for while she was ahead of them both, no one was close to going bust. Then something strange happened on the last hand of that round. Kelly folded on the fourth card the dealer dealt to her, giving up the sixty thousand she had put in the pot after Lyle had raised by eighty-thousand. She expected that Lyle would fold right after Conrad called and raised, as she was sure he would. Conrad had a pair of fours showing, while Lyle just had an ace and jack of hearts. Conrad pushed his chips into the pot, then raised by one hundred and sixty-thousand. Lyle didn’t fold. Lyle called. Conrad stayed. Another two cards were dealt out. Lyle got a six of spades and Conrad got another four. Conrad opened with forty-thousand. Lyle called and raised eighty-thousand. Raised into three fours. Kelly stared at his two face down cards. Was he actually drawing for a royal flush? Even if the two hole cards were the queen, king and/or ten of hearts it was a crazy play. It was the sort of thing she might do. As a bluff, it was only good if Conrad fell for it. And he never would. Conrad checked and raised one hundred and sixty-thousand. People were gathering, watching, feeling the tension that was building between the players. Lyle checked, and the next cards were dealt. A queen of clubs to Lyle and a nine of spades to Conrad. Conrad looked over at Lyle. “Shall we increase the table limits? Starting bet a million?” Kelly was not the only one who hissed in a breath of surprise. Fold you, idiot, Kelly thought, as much as she did not like Lyle, his continuing to play was just embarrassing. She knew in her heart that Conrad had four fours, and suspected Lyle, if he was lucky, might have three jacks or three aces. “Agreed,” Lyle said. Kelly suddenly wondered, as Conrad opened with a million euros and then Lyle matched and raised to three million, if all the people she had played with had thought her that much of an idiot, when she had bluffed blind in the hopes of getting the right card. Looking at it from the outside she suddenly thought of it as childish. And with that thought came the idea that maybe she was one of those littles that was not ready to grow up. Or at least had been, she quickly assured herself. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Lyle saying, “Call, raise to 15 million.” He had gone crazy. What had Amelia said once to her, too much thin air up there? Conrad looked perhaps a little uncertain as he checked. Lyle was getting to him. Insane bets were rattling the otherwise cool man. The dealer laid out the seventh and last cards. Lyle got a queen of hearts and Conrad a six of diamonds. Kelly knew what cards she had had in her hand when she folded. It was not impossible that Lyle just had picked up that royal flush. Unlikely, improbable, but not impossible. Still, she thought, were it her, if she was in Conrad’s place, she would fold. If it was a bluff, it was masterful. Conrad took a deep breath and, still showing the high hand, Pushed forty thousand into the pot. “Suspend table limits?” Lyle asked. It took Conrad a few seconds to say, “Agreed.” Lyle nodded, looked at a pile of chips, a few million dollars, then leaned back and said, “I am all in.” Silence for several long seconds. Kelly almost told Conrad to fold. Not that he would have listened. The dealer spoke at that moment, “That will take all you have Mr Revel.” Conrad nodded. “Agreed. All in.” People were leaning in around the table as Conrad turned up his two hole cards. A four and a three; the four of a kind Kelly had been certain he had. All attention turned to Lyle. Kelly believed he would turn up junk, and then with a deprecating smile and a shrug of the shoulders, he would excuse himself. It was what Kelly had done in similar situations. Lyle’s cards went face up, smoothly, together (smoother than she could have achieved with the big cards); The king and the ten of hearts. He had been bluffing right up to the end. Right until the queen of hearts had fallen into his hand. Shocked expressions, soft applause. Kyle leaned back in his chair, smiling, accepting the congratulations as for a moment people seemed to forget the dressing down he had received from Otto. Looking pained Conrad stood. “An excellent game,” he congratulated Lyle. “You played well,” Lyle told him, magnanimous in victory. It still sounded like an insult to Kelly’s ears. Conrad nodded once at Kelly, then turned and walked away, towards the bar. “We will meet again in four hours,” the dealer said. Lyle looked surprised for a moment. He actually forgot about me, or maybe he just thought that if only ‘the little’ were left they would declare him victor by default. He looked at her and nodded. “In four hours then.” Kelly nodded as well, feeling empty. Cheated. Marie got her at that point, to take her up to her room. She looked back at the deserted table, saw Lyle taking a seat beside Conrad at the bar. Was he offering more consolations or needling the man for loosing? “What is the matter?” Marie asked a few minutes later as they rode the elevator up to the room. “Nothing is the matter,” Kelly said softly. “No fibbing Kelly.” There was a mock sternness in her tone. Kelly laughed softly as the elevator doors opened and they walked towards the room. “I was just hoping for a better game.” “Are you sad that Mr, Kruugen lost?” She stopped in front of the room door. “Yes, but that’s not it.” Marie knelt down, gently straightened the combs in her hair. “Then what is?” She sighed. “Lyle is an idiot, and he is going to be no challenge.” “Kelly, that is rude,” Marie said, though she did not sound angry. Kelly shrugged her shoulders. “I know, but it’s true. He doesn’t even remember I am in the game half the time. How can he beat me?” Marie smiled and stood. “Don’t discount luck Kelly, and play him with all the seriousness you would want him to show you. I know you can be the better person.” She opened the door. Steven was in there. “Come back in about ten minutes Miss Frontè.” “Oui,” she said, and then after giving Kelly a gentle push into the room and a pat on the head, she closed the door. “Revel is out,” Steven said. Kelly walked into the room, took a seat on the couch. “Yes. You got what you wanted.” “I still want you to win.” “I will.” “You were not sure you could beat Conrad.” “Conrad at least could conceive that a little might beat him, Lyle Redmond is incapable of thinking anything like that. He has already lost.” She said it morosely, disappointment obvious. “No one is going to remember this tournament as the one where Kelly Fortuna won against a table full of giants. All they are going to remember is that some churlish robber baron played like an idiot.” “I hope you are right.” Steven stood and left her alone in the room, going wherever he went when out. Probably to have sex with Caroline. She sat on the couch, staring at her red shoes for several minutes before she heard a knock at the door and Marie’s voice, asking to come in. Kelly got up from the couch and opened the door for the Amazon. Maira undressed her, told her she should take a nap. “Can you hold me on your lap, like yesterday?” Kelly asked her. “Of course my petit Jean d’Arc,” she said and lifted Kelly into her lap, once more singing softly. Kelly placed her head against the woman’s chest and closed her eyes. She sat down at a table, smaller than the one they had used earlier, directly across from Lyle, the dealer between them. Five hands in and she knew it was bad as she feared. She bluffed him, and he folded. She called his bluff, and he stayed in too long. She played better than him. The hands went faster with only the two of them. An hour in it seemed as if he was beginning to realise that he was not taking her seriously enough. His playing got better. Not good enough. After about two hours he was back where he had been when he had knocked Conrad from the game. The dealer called a break at the midway point. “Come on Kelly, let’s take you to the potty,” Marie said, helping her down from the chair. She as a little embarrassed at Marie’s words, but went without a complaint. When the game started again, Lyle was once more playing poorly. Was that all it had taken, Marie treating her like a small child to make him forget? And had Marie done it on purpose? She wondered if Marie had any money on the game. Lyle tried. She gave him that. He tried to get her to agree to go over the table limit. She politely refused most of the time, and when she agreed it was only when she was certain she would win. His chips diminished. Several times she had to force herself to not try and take him out in one, grandiose play. At one point she was certain she could draw an ace five straight, and the thought that she could win on one, like she had back at the bar several days before, almost made her go wild. However, she recalled the lyrics of a song, that if you chased rainbows, you were going to get wet. And no little wanted to get wet. The dealer let the game go over the five hours at both Kelly and Lyle’s agreement. He was desperate, and she was cool. And then he was out of chips. The dealer laid out the rest of their cards. And anticlimactically Kelly won the game with three of a kind to his two pair. “You are out Mr Redmond,” the dealer said. Lyle seemed confused by the words. “She’s a little,” he said. “You are still out Mr Redmond.” He took a deep breath. “Of course. Thank you.” He stood and offered his hand to the dealer. “You did an excellent job.” He left without acknowledging Kelly. It did not win him any friends. However, Kelly had no time to think about that as she was led from the table, onto a stand that put her eye level at about eight feet. She was able to take the offered hands of the giants and inbetweeners who came to congratulate her. There were no littles there. Otto took her hand, gave it a firm shake. “A most enjoyable game to watch Miss Fortuna.” “Yes,” she said with a weak smile. “You played well and gave your opponent every chance not to be a fool. It was a true victory.” She nodded again, but she did not believe it. “Consider this Miss Fortuna. Sometimes we don’t get the opponent we deserve, but often in those cases, you are the opponent the other person deserves.” Kelly smiled, then laughed. “Thank you.” “You are most welcome.” He gave her hand one last shake before moving aside for others. It was a little intimidating, all those people, all those giants, taking her hand in theirs. But Marie stood close by, and Kelly felt secure. Caroline stepped up to her, took her hand, and said, “Wonderful performance.” She was smiling, and Kelly could not help think that it was a smile of someone who had given her a spanking. Though perhaps she was reading too much into it. Then the owner of the casino and the hotel, Jean Noble, approached, holding a golden medallion. A knot had been tied halfway along the red, silk chord so that when he put it around her neck, it hung down around her chest rather than down by her waist. “A most well-played game,” he told her, and then kissed both her cheeks. When she had a moment, she looked at the medallion. It felt heavy enough that it could contain real gold. ‘Cartes D'or Triomphantes’ had been engraved in the surface, and the year, and with small flecks of metal from being recently cut, her name, ‘Kelly Fortuna’. She ran her thumb over the name, wondering if another name had been engraved there and then smoothed out so her name could be put on it instead. But no, it felt flat around her name. They had shown enough class to not assume that Lyle was going to win. And as the well-wishers began to thin Mr Nobel said, “If you come with me Miss Fortuna, we can take care of your winnings.” “Yes, thank you,” Kelly said as he helped her down from the stand. Marie followed close behind as Jean led them to his office. He seemed somewhat confused by her presence when they reached the door, but Kelly said it would be okay if Marie entered. Marie stood near the wall, away from the desk, as Jean helped Kelly into the seat behind his desk and turned the laptop to face her. He brought up a bank’s online site. Entered a password. “Your winnings, minus the casino’s ten percent. Simply change the password to one of your own choosing.” He moved away so Marie could enter the new password in private. And it was done. “Thank you, Mr Noble,” she said as she got down from the chair. “Of course Miss Fortuna. Will we see you next year? I will ensure you are sent an invitation if you are interested.” Kelly smiled. “Who knows.” She had no idea if she could get the stake together. “Perhaps I can let you know in a few months?” “Of course.” He took a business card from his pocket. “If you need to get in touch with me.” “Thank you.” He showed Kelly and Marie from his office. “So, do you want to go back and celebrate?” Marie looked towards where the tournament had been held. “Do you think it would be rude of me if I did not?” Marie smiled. “I am sure they will forgive you.” And she took Kelly’s hand to lead her back to the room. Steven was there, waiting. “Miss Frontè, thank you for taking care of Kelly, your services will no longer be needed.” “Of course sir,” Marie said. Kelly turned her head, looking between Steven and Marie, for a moment not understanding how he could say that. Then she remembered that Maire had been doing a job, and that job was no longer required. Marie knelt down to bring her face close to Kelly’s. “I enjoyed showing you the city and helping you, and watching you play. Bonne chance Kelly.” Kelly nodded slowly. “Thank you for all your help,” she said. And with that Marie stood up and left, closing the door behind her. Kelly still couldn’t quite accept that Marie had just left. However, Steven gave her no time to think of it. “I need you to give me access to the money,” he told her. Kelly nodded. “Right,” she said, walking over to the laptop that Steven had set up. He already had the bank’s site open. She paused. “I’m going to give you all the money, as we agreed, but, can you tell me what all this was about?” Steven sat down next to her. “It’s complicated, and some of it is confidential.” “I can handle the complicated part and tell me what is not confidential.” She typed in the password, opening up the account with all the money. She moved aside, and Steven took her place, but he did touch the laptop. “Conrad is an arms dealer, of a sort.” “Of a sort? Complicated or confidential.” “Confidential. He has used the money from such tournaments in the past to support his activities.” “So he’s lost so he’ll stop.” Steven leaned forward and typed across the laptop’s keyboard, made a few mouse clicks. “No, it will only slow him down. I needed you to win so that I can use the prize money as a way to get closer to him, so I can stop him and find out who he is working with.” “Who do you work for?” “I’ve moved your five million into another account for you. Enter your own password, and it will be yours.” He stood and walked towards the door. “Is there anything else you can tell me?” Kelly asked his retreating back. “You’ve done a good thing,” he told her without looking back, then he opened the door and left the hotel room. Kelly shifted over to the laptop, looked at the account that had been set up in the same bank as the prize money had been. She would have to move it to her own bank account, but that was for later. She typed in a new password, taking control of the account. She closed the laptop and slid off the couch. In her room she undressed, fiddling with the bow, and then pulling the dress over her head. She tossed it into a messy pile on the floor and undressed down to the diaper, which she pulled off and threw into the garbage. Next, she took a long shower before returning to her room. Later, dressed in her jeans and t-shirt, she sat on her bed and called Ken. “Heys Miss Fortuna, beens waiting to hears from yous.” “Good evening Ken. It all went well?” “Yous cleaned up. Just likes yous said. No ones thoughts yous could win.” She smiled and fell back into her pillows. “Good work. Can you see about getting us a flight out of here tomorrow? Come and pick me up.” “I will do thats Miss Fortuna. And congratulation ons winnings.” “Thank you, Ken,” she told him and hung up. Dropping her phone on the bed beside her she closed her eyes. “What a game.” She had been asleep, dreaming of something pleasant that escaped from her as soon as she opened her eyes. Someone was knocking on the room’s door. Looking at the bedside clock, she saw she had only been about asleep for about an hour. Maybe it was Caroline looking for Steven, she thought as she slipped off the bed, or Steven had forgotten his key, or someone from the casino, up to congratulate her. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. She did not expect Conrad Revel to be standing out there. “Can I help y…” He stepped forward and hit her, knocking her back. Kelly had been somewhat rough and tumble as a kid. She had fallen from the back of a horse and had the breath knocked out of her. She had broken her arm playing touch football when she had been tackled by an over-enthusiastic inbetweener. The point was that she had been hurt before, so lying on the floor, the breath knocked out of her, was not an entirely new feeling for her. But never had a giant hit her (well, besides spankings and those never counted). What left her lying there, doing nothing, was more the surprise that a giant would hit her than the actual hit itself. He stepped in after her, kicked the door closed. He was kneeling at her side, a roll of duct tape in his hands. He put a strip over her mouth, then used more tape to secure her arms behind her back and taped her feet together. He waved something over her, something that beeped. He reached down and grabbed the gold watch around her wrist, yanked it off her, tossed it away. Conrad had brought a duffle bag with him. He put her into it. It was padded with towels to hide her shape. He zipped it closed, leaving her in darkness. She felt him lift her and the bag up, then he was moving. She was bumped around, turned about in the bag, felt him almost running downstairs, the bag with her in it slapping against his side. Then she was falling, but only for a moment as the bag landed on something hard. A soft ‘clunk’ of metal on metal. She had been put in a car’s trunk. Not long after she felt the vibration of the car starting up. Where was he taking her? What was going to happen to her? Eventually, the car stopped, and she was pulled out of the trunk, walked somewhere, and then dropped to a hard floor. Even with the padding of the towels, it hurt enough to leave her stunned. The bag was unzipped, Conrad pulled her out, held her up. “No one is around here to hear you scream, but I don’t want to hear a screaming little, so keep it down, or I’ll hurt you.” He then grabbed the tape over her mouth and yanked it off. “Understand?” “Yes,” she said, the skin around her lips stinging. He took a knife and cut the tape around her arms and legs, then dropped her into a chair too big for her. There were other men around, standing or sitting near the edge of the room. “I want the bank code for the game’s winnings.” “I don’t have it,” she told him. He backhanded her, hard enough to almost knock her off the chair. She cut the inside of her cheek on her teeth. “Don’t lie to me.” “I didn’t have the buy-in, someone else provided it. They got all the money.” He grabbed her shoulders, fingers digging painfully in. “Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not. His name was Steven Armitage, and he was in the room with me.” He seemed to think about that for a moment. Then he slapped her again. “Don’t lie to me.” Kelly shook her head. “What do you want me to tell you?” she said, not wanting to be hurt again. “Give me the password for the account!” “I don’t know it.” He kicked the chair out from under here, she hit the floor hard. “Give me the password.” “Stop that Conrad,” a familiar voice said. Kelly looked up, mouth agape as she saw Lyle Redmond enter the room. “She’s not giving me the password. She says she doesn’t know it. Says she gave it to her backer.” “Do you think that is possible?” Lyle asked as he walked into the room to stand next to Conrad and over her. She tried getting up, but Conrad pushed her back down the floor with his foot. “You think a little would give up that much money, just like that.” Lyle looked down at her. “I will admit littles can be greedy things if you let them. I have to keep a firm hand on my girls to keep them from getting spoiled.” Conrad reached down and grabbed the front of her t-shirt, pulling her up. “I’ll get her to talk.” “You are treating a little like an adult Mr Revel. That will fail.” He righted the chair and took a seat. “You don’t interrogate littles, you punish them, and they realise they are wrong.” He plucked Kelly out of Conrad’s hands and laid her on his lap. “No, no, no,” Kelly said, struggling. Not that it did not do any good. Lyle lay six, rapid hard spanks against her jean covered bottom causing Kelly to let out a howl. Who would have thought she would look back fondly on being spanked by Caroline? “Little girls should not lie,” Lyle said and slapped his hand against her bottom five more times. “Little girls should answer truthfully when asked a question.” More spanks. “Little girls should respect their betters.” More spanks. Kelly was sobbing uncontrollably. She felt him loosen her jeans and then whisk them down to her knees. A minute or two passed and Kelly stopped sobbing, stopped gasping. Her bottom hurt so much. “What is the code for the bank account?” Lyle asked her. “I don’t know.” More smacks fell across her pantie covered ass, his large hand effortlessly encompassing her whole bottom. Kelly screamed, wiggling, trying to get away, crying, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know.’ Finally, it was Conrad who said, “Maybe she really does not know.” Lyle stopped spanking her. He stood, kept hold of her, turned around and set her on the chair. Kelly sobbed as her well-spanked bottom was placed on the steel of the chair. They ignored her until she had cried herself out. She looked down at her jeans and wondered if she should pull them up. Lyle leaned in. “Kelly, I want you to tell me what the passcode is.” His tone was soft, almost kind. “You’ve been punished, and if you tell me, I will consider you a good girl. You want to be a good girl, don’t you? Good girls don’t get spanked.” Kelly did not know if she wanted to be a good girl, but she knew she did not want to be spanked. However, she also could not tell him what she did not know. Sniffing she said, “I don’t know it. Steven changed it.” “I am inclined to believe her,” Conrad said. “Perhaps, but littles lie. It is in their nature,” Lyle answered him. He walked away from her, then turned and came back. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a smartphone. He held it out towards her. “Do you know what this is Kelly?” “It’s a sm…” Her attention was captured by flashing lights. “...artphone.” Something felt strange. Some of the men were laughing. She looked down. Her panties were soaked, a puddle of urine had spread across the seat, stinging tender skin inflamed by the earlier spanking. “What?” “A simple hypnotic colour pattern. Some therapists use it to help littles take the steps back they need but cannot admit to themselves.” She stared wide-eyed. “I care little for it myself. I prefer that my girls make those decisions on their own.” He smiled at her. “It is important that littles know they are not adults.” Conrad and a few of the others laughed again. “One exposure, just an accident, but multiple exposures, the effect lasts longer,” Lyle told her. “Eventually, without intervention, it becomes permanent.” “I don’t know the code,” Kelly said once more. “You’re one of those littles, the ones who have something special about themselves that make them think they are grownups. It’s sad. You see something special, but really, it is just something making you unhappy. “I now have access, thanks to my new partner,” he looked at Conrad, “to some interesting and advanced variations on this style of program, and some experimental medicines that make the effect take hold much stronger, and faster, with greater scope.” He walked a few steps from her then turned around. “Do you think you could play cards if you could not even count to ten Kelly?” For a second she did not think she had heard right, and her mind spun about with the implication of what he said. “You couldn’t” she whispered. He could not do that. Could he do that? “I suppose you could try. Perhaps something like, I have this many,” he held up three fingers, “of this kind,” he held up five fingers. More laughter from the others. “Perhaps you would have to play barefoot to better keep track.” With a sob, Kelly said, “I’ll give you the code.” The best way to bluff someone was to give them what they wanted to believe. A laptop was brought to her. She brought up the banking website. “She’s in the right place,” Conrad said from behind her, where he looked over her shoulder. Kelly typed in the password. “There. That’s it.” “Wait, there is almost nothing there,” Conrad said. “What?” Lyle demanded. “What?” Kelly asked, sounding shocked. “That’s five million dollars,” Conrad told them. Lyle put a large hand on her head, turned her to face him. “Where is the money?” “It was there. It was all there just…” she trailed off, made her eyes go wide. “Ken!” “Ken?” “I was working with him, this was all his idea.” The two men looked away from each other, to each other, their expressions changing like she had told them the secret of life. “Of course,” Conrad said. “I suppose he was coaching you over some sort of wireless device?” Lyle asked her. That was the stupidest thing that Kelly had ever heard, but it seemed to be what he wanted to hear, so she nodded and said, “Uh huh.” “Obviously this Ken person took all the money,” Conrad told Lyle. Lyle nodded, then frowned. “Why leave anything in the account though?
 Kelly was careful not to react, but she suspected her bluff was about to be called. “Who would leave a little completely helpless?” Conrad asked Lyle. After a moment Lyle nodded. He turned back to Kelly. “Where is he?” Kelly told him the hotel she knew Ken was staying at. She did not want to give him up like that, but the cards she showed had to be good. They checked, confirmed it. Conrad sent five of the men to go and get Ken. Five did not seem bad for Ken, as long as none of those men was like Steven. Ken might even enjoy the fight. Or she might be trying to make herself feel better. Conrad sent two men outside watch while he and Lyle remained in the room. She had bought herself some time, maybe. Ken might be able to find her if he made it through those five men sent after him. And she could hope that Steven would show up. He had brought her. He should be trying to protect her. The watch he had given her, the one he had told her to not lose. Not lose was just another way of saying ‘never take it off, keep it with you’. He must have put a tracking device in it. But Conrad had torn it away. Several minutes passed as Kelly sat there, trying to figure out what who might be able to help her. “What should we do with her?” Conrad’s voice made her turn her head, realising they were talking about her and wanting to know what they were saying. “I had thought that she would make a perfect sixth for my nursery, but, she’s too tall, and not very cute.” She could not see them and relaxed enough to let the anger show on her face. More like her face would remind him he was a loser… at least at poker. “So, we’ll need to make her disappear.” “Disappear?” Lyle sounded concerned. “We could scramble her memories, dump her in some place, or leave her with someone, where they won’t ask questions.” Would they really do that? “That sounds like a good plan.” It sounded like a terrible plan to Kelly. “The problem with that is whatever we do can be undone, if one puts enough effort and money into it.” “What are you suggesting?” Lyle asked. What was he suggesting, Kelly wondered. “Mr Redmond, you care about littles, want to see them taken care of. I understand that. Sometimes though, well, a few have to be sacrificed for the rest to be taken care of.” “You can’t be suggesting?” “Why not? Big picture wise, well, does it matter?” “It matters to me. I want to see littles looked after.” “And if your desire to protect this one means many others are not protected?” Lyle made an uncertain sound. They were going to kill her. No one was going to save her. So she was going to have to save herself. Quietly, carefully she reached down and grasped the waist of her jeans, pulled them up her, dragged them through the urine on her chair. She was careful not to make a noise as she wiggled her pained bottom back and forth so she could get the jeans up around her waist. She buttoned them, then took a deep breath. Pushing herself from the chair, her feet made a scuffling sound as her shoes hit the cracked concrete. She took off at a run, towards the dark doorway in front of her, away from the men behind her. She had to run, to keep running. She hated running. Heavy footsteps behind her, she tried not to picture the longer strides of either giant bringing them closer to her. All she had to focus on was the door. On getting away. Someone grabbed her long hair, hauled back and yanked her to a painful stop. Then she was lifted by her hair, which hurt a lot and made her scream out in pain. Swung around, more screams, then thrown back into the chair, which almost went over backwards and actually went up on two legs before falling forward again. Conrad, who had grabbed her, closed, put his palm on her forehead and pushed her head back. In his other hand, he had a gun. Kelly had never seen a real gun before. It looked terrifying. If Lyle’s phone had not made her wet herself earlier, she knew the icy fear that stabbed through her would have left her in soaked pants. “What are you doing?” Lyle shouted. “We don’t need her, we can get rid of her.” “No! Not like this! Not with her seeing it.” “Sometimes we have to be cruel to be kind Mr Redmond.” “I won’t let you,” Lyle said. She thought they were going to come to blows. Conrad pushed the barrel of the gun hard against the side of her head. Everything went dark, and for a moment Kelly thought she was dead, but it was the lights that had gone off. “What the hell?” A shout. Conrad. “Marcelle, why are the lights out!” Then there was a flash of light and an echoing boom that made Kelly cry and put her hands over her ears. “No, no, no,” she sobbed. Flash, boom. The sound of people running. The chair was knocked over, and she fell to the floor, once again having the breath knocked out of her. She lay there, trying to suck in a breath of air, wondering just when she was going to die. Then the lights came on, and a vast figure appeared over her, a gun in its hand. Kelly closed her eyes tight and hoped it would not hurt. She flinched away from the hand that touched her, but there was no pain, just a gentle almost caress as the hand ran from the top of her head, down the side of her face and over her shoulder and arm. “Es-tu blessé? Parle moi? Kelly, my petit Jean d’Arc, open your eyes.” She did not believe what she was hearing, thought it some kind of trick, but she opened her eyes. Marie was kneeling at her side, one hand running over her body, checking for injuries Kelly realised. In her other hand, she held a frightful looking gun. While she was speaking to her, examining her, she was looking elsewhere, all around, as if there was still some danger. “What are you doing here?” She looked down at Kelly for a moment, smiled, then went back to scanning the area around them. “I would be a terrible nanny if I let my pretty girl out of my sight more than once. Are you okay?” Was she okay? “Nothing’s broken… probably.” “Formidable. Stand up and put your arms around my neck, keep clear of my pistol.” Kelly got up, feeling bruises, but as she had said, nothing was broken. She wrapped her arms around the big woman, careful not to hold on as tight as she wanted to lest she choke Marie. Marie straightened, her free hand slipping under Kelly’s bottom so she could hold her up, pull her close. “Wet,” Marie said, with a small click of disapproval. Kelly almost laughed. “Who else was in this room?” “Conrad and Lyle.” “Lyle Redmond?” “Yes.” “Interesting. Hold tight, I will need to move fast.” Marie ran, her long strides and heavy weight booming on the floor, then outside, thumping on the ground. Each footfall jolted Kelly in her arms, reminding the little of all the hurts she had taken. She bit down on them and made no noise, not wanting to distract Marie. Then they slowed, and she felt the Amazon shifting her about, heard the sound of a car door opening, and then she was placed, gently into the car’s bucket seat. The door closed, a few seconds later Marie opened the driver’s side door and slid in. “I hope you don’t think too badly of me for not having a child seat,” she said and started the car, shifting into reverse, hitting the gas, rapidly spinning the steering wheel about. A shift into first gear and the vehicle sped away. Kelly started laughing, which turned into sobbing and she probably cried for nearly a minute before with sniff and hiccoughs she got herself under control. “Feel better?” Marie asked. Her attention was on the road. “No,” Kelly said, then, “yes.” “I would hold you and let you have a good, proper cry, but that will have to wait.” Kelly sniffed, then said, “Ken!” “What?” “I sent them to where Ken was, I had to…” Well, she had chosen to, cause she was afraid. “Use my phone,” Marie took one hand from the wheel and removed a phone from her jacket pocket, held out to her. She dialled, got Ken. “This is Kelly Ken, you’re in trouble.” “Trouble? What troubles Miss Fortuna?” It was too hard to explain it all. “Some people tried to rough me up for the prize money. I had to point them at you. Five giants.” “Oh, is thats all. Don’ts worry. Better you sends them at me. Wants me to break them?” “No, just go somewhere else…” “Wait,” Marie said. Kelly looked at her. Not taking her eyes off the road Marie said, “If your Ken does not put himself in danger, arranging to capture these men would be of use. We could arrange for the police to help, but that may take a little time, and it might scare them off.” “Did you hear that Ken?” she asked. “I heards it.” “Do you think…” “Don’ts worry Miss Fortuna. I’ll sees if I can gets these guys for your friend.” “Don’t take any chances, Ken.” “Don’t worries Miss Fortuna.” He hung up. “He seems like a nice man,” Marie said. “I’ve always liked having him around.” “Are you…” “No,” Kelly shook her head. It was not the first time she had been asked that question. “How did you find me?” “I followed Conrad. I’m sorry I was not able to get to you sooner.” She looked at Kelly for a moment. “Your poor face.” “Is it bad?” Kelly asked, putting her hand to her face, wincing slightly as she touched the swelling around her mouth. “It will fade soon, but I take offence at someone hitting a little.” “I’m not a fan of it myself.” Marie laughed. “I was waiting for some backup, but then those five men left, and I was preparing to go in carefully, but then I heard you scream…” “Thank you.” She paused. “You’re not a real nanny are you?” “Do you have complaints about the way I took care of you?” Kelly was hard pressed to find an answer to that, but after a few seconds she said, “It was very professional.” “There you go. However, one can be a perfectly skilled nanny and be something else as well.” “What is that something else?” Marie did not answer, remaining silent so long that Kelly assumed she would not. Then she said, “Mr Artimage, and Miss Jay and perhaps Mr Wright came here with complicated plans to take away Conrad Revel’s resources and get leverage on him. However, my superiors took a much more practical approach. If Conrad Revel had won, I was to kill him.” “Kill…” “Yes. Terrible isn’t it.” Kelly nodded, and then, because Marie was still watching the road she said, “Yes.” “Sometimes my job requires me to do terrible things, and sometimes it allows me to do wonderful things, like taking care of a pretty girl who plays poker. I am something of a spy, though with a French flair.” Kelly thought about it. She looked for some way to connect a woman who had been ready to kill Conrad Revel (terrible as he was) and the woman who had held her and sung lullabies to her. “Have I shocked you?” Marie asked. “Yes,” Kelly said. “My poor petit Jean d’Arc. Littles and such violence should never mix. Mr Artimage has much to answer for in my opinion.” “You’re not…” Kelly started to ask, alarmed. Marie laughed. “I am not going to shoot him. I am just going to give him a piece of my mind for letting you be hurt.” “Good.” “Have you fallen in love with him?” Marie asked. “He’s very handsome.” “Oui.” “But I’m not in love with him. I just don’t want him to be hurt.” “Littles, so gentle.” Kelly did not think it was a criticism, though she was not sure she could take it as a compliment. “What happens now?” Kelly asked. “We stop off at a hospital where I get you looked at…” “I’m fine.” “We will not discuss this. And then we return to the hotel to sort a few things out.” “Okay.” She wondered what ‘sort a few things out’ meant but guessed she would learn soon enough. It was still a few hours away from dawn when the four of them sat in the suite. Kelly was wrapped in a thick robe, warm and tingling from the ointments that the doctor at the emergency room had applied to all her bruises, from the ones of her face to the ones on her bottom. She had sat on the couch and listened to Marie give Steven a ‘piece of her mind’. She also included Caroline in that as, having partnered up with Steven, was equally responsible for ensuring Kelly was kept safe. “I admit,” Steven said when Marie had finished, “I made a mistake. I never thought that Conrad would waste his time on Kelly.” “Waste his time?” Kelly asked, offended. “You should both be glad that she was not seriously harmed,” Marie said, apparently ignoring Kelly’s statement. Finished with her dressing down of the other two giants she then filled them in on how she had spotted and tracked Conrad. Steven told Marie that he had left Kelly to find Conrad himself. “I assumed I would be the likely target.” “Kelly, can you tell us what happened?” Marie asked as she took a seat next to the little. Taking a deep breath, she told them the entire story, from opening the door (which had three giants all admonishing her for opening a door without seeing who was on the other side) to her rescue by Marie. When she got to the part about convincing them Ken had been in control Caroline asked Steven, “Did you teach her that? It was a good play.” Kelly, tired of the way the giants seemed to automatically stick her into a space labelled ‘child’ snapped, “I came up with that idea myself bitch.” Caroline looked shocked. Kelly felt a short, sharp pain across the crown of her head and looked up in surprise at Marie who had just smacked her on the head. It was not like it had been very hard, and cushioned by her hair had not really hurt at all. “If your poor bottom was not so bruised I would give you a swat on it right now,” Marie told her. “Just because people do not treat you the way you want is no reason to be rude to them. I believe Otto Kruugen congratulated you on remembering that fact not so long ago.” Kelly flushed and nodded and then looked over at Caroline. “I’m sorry.” “Apology acc…” “But I’m not stupid, I’m just small.” Caroline nodded. “Yes. You are not stupid.” Kelly wondered if she could bring up not being demoted back to diapers and her ABCs but decided not to push it. Finally, she finished telling them what had happened. “It was really Lyle Redmond?” Steven asked her. She nodded. “It really was.” The three giants looked to one another then back at her. “And he spoke of hypnotic devices and drugs.” “He threatened that I would not be able to count to ten, and he had that thing on his smartphone that he flashed in my eyes that made me,” she paused and swallowed, “wet my pants.” Not her favourite part of the story. “But he specifically talked about advanced and experimental applications?” Steven asked her. He seemed dismissive of the fact that an app on a smartphone could make her wet her pants. Kelly had heard there were places where a little who wet themselves was no longer considered an adult. And a smartphone app that made you wet your pants did not even engender the smallest bit of surprise from the giants. As a little Kelly had to wonder what other tricks the giants kept secret. However, she only said, “Yes, he said advanced and experimental.” The giants looked at each other. “We’ll need to find Conrad. What about Lyle?” Steven asked. “I’m afraid he had both alibi and lawyers, and the word of a little against a man like him,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I think he is already on his private jet over international waters. I am sorry Kelly.” Kelly sighed. “I’ll contact my government, see if we can work together on this,” Steven told Marie and Caroline. “What about me?” Kelly asked. The three looked at her. “What about you?” Caroline asked. Marie saved her, in a manner, from having to explain herself by saying, “There will be security watching over you, until you leave tomorrow. You already have plane tickets home, do you not?” “I do.” “Then you will leave and go home. You will be safe there,” she said with confidence. “Oh,” Kelly said. For a moment she had thought she was part of what they were doing. She had played her part after all. But that part was over. Marie stood and picked Kelly up from the couch. “We need to speak of things you cannot know of,” she told the little she held, “and you should rest up. It had been a trying ordeal.” “But…” “Hush,” Marie told her and carried her into the bedroom. She wrapped Kelly up tightly in the oversized robe, and then slid her under the covers and tucked them tight around her. “Just get some sleep Ma brave fille.” And she kissed her on the forehead and stepped away from the bed. Kelly wanted to say so much, ask so much, but it all got caught in her throat, and she was silent. On her way out Marie stopped and picked up the pale pink dress that Kelly had tossed to the floor earlier. She gave it a shake, then went and hung it up in the closet. Kelly watched as she ran her hands through the clothing hung there. She looked back at Kelly and smiled. “I will see this all gets to someone who will be comme il faut in them.” “Thank you,” Kelly said the only word that would escape the tangle in her throat. Then Marie turned off the light and left the room. When Kelly woke the next morning Marie and the others were gone, and she had not even come to say goodbye. The hotel had a doctor who worked there every other day for half a day. He gave Kelly her enema the morning she was to leave. Clinical, he gave her the privacy of a screened off bed. It did not make it any better, but it was not as humiliating as with Caroline or quietly embarrassing as with Marie. Afterwards, he wrote out some prescriptions for her and gave her the brand names of some enema bulbs she could use herself, a list of foods she should stick too for two weeks, and advised her to see her doctor if she had any stomach pains. He actually said 'achy tummy'. Then he wished her well and left her to get dressed. Her clothing from the night before had been laundered, so she was wearing the jeans and a blouse, with a ratty pair of running shoes. She knew were Marie to see her that she would pronounce Kelly anything but ‘comme il faut’. That thought made her smile as she pulled the jeans up over the training panties. Just in case there was a little enema left to expel. Those panties, the three chokers and the hair combs (along with over fifteen million dollars after all was counted) were the only things she was taking with her. Well, she supposed she should not use the word 'only' for fifteen million. As she walked from the small clinic, she wondered who Marie was going to give all the other clothing to. Perhaps Marie had a child, or a little, of her own. If so she felt bad for them, it must be hard with Marie gone all the time. Walking towards the lobby, it was impossible to not notice the men and women in black suits who trailed her. Obvious security, as promised by Marie. She collected her small overnight bag from the bell captain’s station. The man thanked her for staying with them and told her that all costs had been made complementary by the house then congratulated her on the win. Kelly smiled and thanked him and wondered if Steven had planned to stick her with the bill. She waited on the steps of the hotel for Ken. A few people came up to offer her congratulations, often saying how surprised they were that a little had managed to win. Like there was something miraculous in it. If someone asked her to touch them and cure whatever ailed them, she was going to boot them in the shins as hard as she could. Fortunately for such hypothetical shins, a taxi pulled up, and Ken got out. “Morning Miss Fortuna,” he called. She picked up her bag and walked down the too tall steps. “Good morning Ken.” He gave her a hand up into the passenger section and then circled around to get in the other side. As the taxi pulled away from the hotel, he asked. “You okay Miss Fortuna, yous gots some bruising ons your face.” “It will fade soon. What about you?” There was a strip of tape across his nose, suggesting it had been broken again, and at least five butterfly closures sealed cuts on his bruised face. His hands were bandaged. He smiled. “Me? I’m fines. Nones of those five you gaves to me were anythings special. That was real smarts of yous Miss Fortuna, sending them to me likes that. Any of thems the ones that did that?” He lifted a huge hand and pointed at her face. “No.” “Thats too bads, I liked to thinks that I got some back for you.” “You did more than enough. I am sure the information that those men provide will help someone get some back for me.” “Just have preferreds thats it was me.” Kelly smiled. “Maybe next time.” The first class tickets got them through check-in and security quickly. As Kelly was walking through the airport, she often looked over her shoulder. She delayed during check in, until the attendant insisted she get onboard or be left behind. As she stepped onto the boarding ramp, she looked over her shoulder one last time. Amelia had always told her that if a giant ever got their hands on a little that little was almost certainly caught. “You’re a crazy idiot Amelia Black,” she said softly and jogged down the ramp towards the open door with the attendant behind her, saying “Hurry, hurry.” In a bright and cheerful nursery, Emily Black lay on a play rug, a pink laptop computer with pony stickers on it in front of her. She wore a pale yellow and white striped dress with a skirt too short to hide her thick disposable diaper. She was squirming because she had to go to the bathroom, but the information on the screen was so interesting. It was the results of a new predictive algorithm she had written. Of course, she was in a diaper, so if she were going wet herself, it would be no big deal. But that was what they wanted her to think. But the information was so interesting, and surely she could hold it. She was peripherally aware of the conflict in her mind, but whenever she thought about it something else would catch her attention, all too often what she was working on. And why should it not? What she was working on was always so compelling, and surely she could hold her pee for a little while longer. Such decisions often led to a wet diaper, or worse, but at the moment such juvenile outcomes were chased from her head like she herself chased a new piece of data she had spotted. Like Alice after the Rabbit. She had just about puzzled out what she was looking at when she heard Chase call, "Emily, you have to see this." Emily looked up from her computer. Chase did not often call her Emily these days. That was something unusual, enough to tear her attention from her work and make her more aware of the building pressure in her bladder. Chase came into the nursery, a huge presence both in size and personality and in Emily's universe. The Amazon was holding a tablet, smiling brightly. It was on Emily's lips to ask for the potty when Chase scooped her up. Emily made a surprised squeak and started to wet her diaper. Only needing one arm to hold up Emily, Chase's hand cupped Emily's diapered bottom. Chase gave the diaper a gentle squeeze, making it clear to Emily that she was aware of its state. Instead of playfully teasing Emily as she often did she held up the tablet. "Look at this Emily." Emily wondered if it was some kind of trick, or perhaps a catalogue full of baby goods, but it was the webpage of some luxury hotel in Monaco. The hotel had had a recent poker tournament, the buy-in had been obscenely expensive. Emily did not understand what Chase was showing her until she saw a picture of some of the players. One of whom was Lyle Redmond. "Lyle?" "Now Emily, that is Mr Redmond to little girls." Emily ignored her and knew that saying 'mister' would make her lisp. "How did he do?" Chase actually giggled. Not the kind of laugh Emily had come to expect from her mommy. "Swipe the page," Chase told her. Emily reached out and swiped the screen to the next page. There were more pictures of the players, little bios on them. She swept twice more then suddenly stopped. "Kelly," she said, surprised, looking at the woman she had not seen in a few years. "Yes, Kelly Fortuna," Chase said. For a moment Emily thought Chase knew she and Kelly had been friends, but she said nothing else. She must have thought Emily was just reading the name out loud. "Isn't that an adorable little party dress she is wearing EmEm?" Emily knew that such a dress would be making its way into her wardrobe soon, and there would be an opportunity to wear it. She wondered how Kelly had ended up in such a situation. She was playing in the game, not some giant's little girl luck charm. It made her suspect that Kelly was in that outfit because it was required and not that she was some giant's adopted child. She swiped through some more pages, saw pictures of Kelly playing. Her old friend wore a deadpan expression in most of the pictures of her playing, all serious and focused. A few more pages and she got to the page with the results. "She won," Emily said. "Quite surprising, but look at the paragraph about the end of the game," Chase said, sounding excited. Emily did. "She played him last," she said, "and beat him." "She humiliated him," Chase crowed and spun about, bouncing Emily in her grasp. Emily grabbed tight to Chase, afraid she might fall. Chase stopped, cleared her throat. "Now, EmEm, it is not nice to take joy in other people's suffering. However, I'm sure you can forgive your mama." As it had been Chase's desire to 'one-up' Lyle that had brought them together Emily understood Chase's wish to celebrate and to include Emily in it. And Emily had to admit to not being too fond of Lyle. "Yes mama," she said. "I hope Lyle does not end up taking this out on his girls. He wouldn't of course, but maybe I will just have someone look into it." Emily did not say anything, but she did wonder who Chase knew who could find out how Lyle was treating his captive littles. "I would like to meet this Kelly Fortuna," Chase suddenly said. Emily felt her stomach flop at that pronouncement. Chase wanting to meet a little might bode ill for said little. And Emily did not want to meet Kelly. Not as Chase' baby girl. "Mama, I have to go potty," Emily said, in her sweetest tone, thinking to distract Chase from her new thoughts. Chase put the tablet down and then gave Emily's diaper a squeeze and a pat. "Silly bunny, you already have." She blushed and then said, "I have to poopy." "Just poopy in your diaper." Chase smiled and cradling Emily in one arm she tickled her tummy through the thin cloth of the dress. "It won't be the first time." Emily giggled in spite of herself, but shook her head and said, "Potty." "You're lucky mama loves you," Chase said, and then carried Emily to the nursery's attached bathroom. She took Emily out of her dress and then untapped the wet diaper. Naked, Emily was placed on rabbit shaped potty seat. Without being told Emily put her hands on the rabbits lowered ears, like she was riding it. "Now show mama what a birl girl you are," Chase told her, kneeling down. Emily blushed. As she made herself relax she asked, "Why was Lyle playing in that game?" "Mr Redmond EmEm, and he plays poker." "But never in that type of game," Emily said. "Maybe it means something." She had learned about the man when he had been trying to hire Emily Black. "If my silly bunny is not going to focus on her potty maybe I should just put her back in her diaper," Chase said. Emily did not pursue it. She did note a slightly distracted expression on Chase's face. And she hardly praised Emily at all when she had pooped in the potty. Emily supposed she had planted a seed. No doubt Chase would want to talk about it later. When she would act like it was her idea. Kelly Fortuna started receiving invitations to play in big buy-in games, mostly in Vegas, but several also other cities as well. Her winnings from the ‘Cartes D'or Triomphantes’ allowed her to afford the buy-in, and the skills she had learned let her win. Consistently. She played smart. Still had Ken make side bets that would guarantee, even if she were to lose, she would keep her stake and make some profit on top of that. But she did not lose. She could stake herself at next years Cartes D'or Triomphantes. All she had to do was ask for an invitation. She was gaining some fame, and with that reputation came more interest from giants. However, with Ken around any giant who seemed too interested could be chased off. Though Kelly had been worried he was going to actually have to punch one Yvonne Tanson, an old Amazon who had shown no doubt she was going take Kelly away with her. She still recalled the look of affront and perhaps a little fear as Ken had told her, ‘Yous best be leaving my Kelly Girl alone, unless you wants me to knocks you down and put you overs my knee fors a spanking.’ Most giants seemed to accept that the intimidating inbetweener was her daddy, or close enough, that they stopped bothering her quite so much. She leaned back slightly on her booster seat, staring at the substantial pile of chips in front of her. She suspected she was about to win another of these tournaments. They were on a break, while the dealer prepared a new deck. Kelly looked towards her opponents, all giants, all seeming a little off put by the little in their midst. She had yet to meet anyone as bad as Lyle Redmond when it came to discounting her, but there were always ones similar. Really, she sighed, it was getting boring. “You do not look like you are having fun my petit Jean d’Arc.” Spinning in her booster seat so fast she almost fell from it Kelly turned to face Marie. The Amazon was dressed in a white, tight evening gown, with a slit up the side that allowed her to kneel. “Ma… Miss Frontè. What… Why…” “I am happy to see you too Kelly. You are looking well.” “But what happened. What about Con…” Marie put a finger to Kelly’s lips. “Hush,” she said with a smile. “Heys, whats do yous think you are doings?” Ken had stepped away from the spectator seats, ready to defend Kelly. Kelly turned towards him. “It’s okay Ken, she’s a friend. I want to see her.” Ken stopped, then nodded. “Right Kelly girl.” He went back to his seat. “Kelly girl?” Marie asked. “It’s what people called me.” “Seems a little redundant to me. What else could Kelly be but a most wonderful girl?” Kelly suspected she was grinning like an idiot and blushing at the same time. “As I said, you are looking well Kelly, though your outfit…” Kelly looked down at herself. She was wearing a Chinese style dress, red with gold trim. “Is there something wrong with it? I thought it looked nice.” “Oh, it looks wonderful. You are quite fetching in it, but it is not comme il faut.” “I didn’t think that mattered.” Marie laughed. “That is because you do not have French sensibilities on fashion, but I think that is something you can achieve, with some work.” “Oh. What…” “But to come back to my original point, why do you look like you are not having fun.” “But I am having fun.” “Really? That glum face I just saw is the face of Kelly Fortuna having fun?” Kelly did not answer. “I had heard that Kelly Fortuna was always smiling, she could lose with a laugh. That she would chase rainbows, that is the correct term, oui?” “Yes, Kelly girl who chased rainbows.” “I thought that Kelly sounded quite pretty. I, of course, understood that at the Cartes D'or Triomphantes where she was not playing for her own enjoyment that she could not treat the game as such, but afterwards, I was certain that that pretty Kelly would show up. And I finally come to see her and what do I find? This is not my Kelly I think.” Kelly frowned. “It’s just, like the song said, if you chase rainbows you’ll get wet.” “I am sure that is true, but Kelly,” she leaned in close, “if you get wet, don’t you think I will dry you?” Kelly stared wide-eyed at Marie. Marie smiled, reached out and ruffled Kelly’s hair. She stood. “Chase your rainbows Kelly. I want to see my petit Jean d’Arc smile and laugh.” Then she walked away. Kelly might have gone after her but the new deck was ready, and the other players were taking their seats. When her fourth card was dealt out to her Kelly looked at it, considered her hole cards, and saw the possibility for an ace five straight. It was there. Not certain, but maybe… She looked over her shoulder, saw Marie sitting among the spectators, watching the game, watching her. When the bet came around to her, she turned and looked at the other players and the dealer. She smiled. “Call and raise one hundred thousand.” They all seemed surprised. It made her laugh. Kelly won the game. She got lucky at the end. She was okay with that. And during the congratulations from the other players (some given with a certain amount of grudging respect) and spectators. Kelly smiled and was polite, but all the time she was looking through the crowd. And then she saw her. Standing towards the back of the group, near the exit of the room. In her white evening dress Kelly wondered how it had taken so long to spot Marie. “Please excuse me,” she said as soon as the opportunity presented itself, then she got down from the chair she had been standing on and walked towards Marie. Ken was close by, but she waved him away. She came to stand in front of Marie, looking up at the woman. Her cheeks grew warm, and she realised she was blushing, feeling shy. She stammered just a little as she asked, “Was that okay?” Marie smiled and patted her on the head. “It looked like you were having fun, I enjoyed watching it. I was worried I was going to have to tell you to stop playing if you were not going to enjoy it.” Her tone was light, teasing, and yet there was a serious nuance which suggested that Marie might very well make that demand. Part of Kelly wanted to be defiant and say something along the lines of ‘you can try’, but that part was silenced by another part that wondered if she was not really enjoying it, should she be doing it? Marie held out her hand towards Kelly. Kelly looked at that offered hand. It was not trying to grab her, had not picked her up, was only there, and she now had to decide if she was going to take it or not. It surprised her how little she hesitated, perhaps she did not hesitate at all. She just reached out and took the Amazon’s large hand. Marie turned and led her from the room. Kelly wondered if there were some surprised looks from those that watched. Or maybe no one noticed. She was having a hard time thinking about anything else other than the hand that held hers, and the indescribable feeling of security she felt. A feeling she had first felt when Marie had rescued her, and that she had been missing ever since. Missing without knowing what it was. As they walked through the huge casino, lost among the crowds and the noise and the lights Marie asked, “What would you do if I told you I would not let you play poker again?” Kelly wondered. What would she do? “I’d tell you that I enjoyed it and still wanted to play.” “You would not simply walk away?” Kelly paused. “Could I walk away? I might have to crawl.” Marie stopped. She looked down at Kelly. She laughed. “What?” “I think you would look cute, crawling, but you would be dull if all you ever did were crawl.” She started walking again. “I suppose some giants do, to a greater or lesser extent, restrict the littles in their lives.” Kelly almost asked if Marie had met Lyle Redmond (though she might have used any giant as an example). “However, a nursery in my home would not be a prison,” Marie told her. “But it would still be a nursery,” Kelly said as they came to a halt in front of the elevator doors. “Of course, as it should be,” Marie told her. Well, that was now giants were, Kelly thought. And you either had to accept that or run away. Kelly did not want to run away. “I understand,” Kelly said. Marie smiled and pressed the elevator’s call button. They rode up to the floor where Kelly had a suite, complimentary from the casino. She was not surprised that Marie had a key card and opened the door. Marie was a spy after all. Inside the suite, Marie took a seat on the couch and pulled Kelly up on to her lap. “Now little one, we need to talk a little.” “Talk?” Marie nodded. “I am still working.” “Here?” Kelly looked around. “No. But I am. Which is why I have not been able to take care of you.” “Well, I’ve been doing okay,” Kelly said. “Except you were all grumpy.” “I wasn’t grumpy.” “Grumpy,” Marie repeated. Kelly did not further argue the point. “As I said, I’ve been busy, and will still be busy, but as it happens, things are occurring in which your presence would be of great use,” Marie told her with a smile. “A card game?” Kelly asked, looking up into Marie’s face. “No.” “Then what… Wait. This is not some sort of beauty pageant thing?” “You’re very smart.” “No. Not a chance.” “Oh? Really?” Kelly nodded. She was not going to enter some sort of stupid little beauty pageant. “Well, then it will be a few months before I can see you again.” A few months? “Well…” “I suppose I’ll need to find another little to help me.” Another little? It was not that she was jealous, Kelly told herself, but how could she trust that Marie would be safe with another little? Maybe they would say something stupid that would get Marie in trouble. So she said that. “You can’t trust some other little to keep any secrets.” “I suppose that may be true. And we both know that you have a good poker face.” Kelly nodded, frowned and then said, “Fine, I’ll go with you.” “Good girl,” Marie said and patted her on the head. “But I’m not wearing any stupid baby dress or diapers!” “Of course not. The baby dresses and diapers you'll wear will be quite smart and will flatter you considerably.” Marie smiled at her. Kelly realised she was doomed to lose any sort of argument about this, so she nodded. “Fine,” she said as if that had been what she had meant all along. “Tell me that you love me,” Marie said. “I love you,” Kelly said without any real thought. Marie kissed her on the forehead and then quickly on the lips. “Good girl.”
  18. Working on the Underground Railway by Inku Hime The apartment had been built with inbetweeners in mind, so at a little over four feet tall Michelle Rork had few problems keeping house. She needed a small step ladder for the higher cupboards in the kitchen, and for dusting, and had a step stool near the door so she could look out the security peephole. She was standing on the step stool right that moment, peering out at the woman in front of her apartment. Stepping down she unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Come in,” Michelle said. Her guest was an inbetweener woman. Michelle closed the door behind her then locked it. She turned towards her guest, looking up at the woman who was probably at least two feet taller than her. It was not just height that differentiated the two. Michelle’s brown hair was more delicate than the other woman’s curly blonde, and Michelle’s features were softer, less defined, making her look much younger than her guest, though both were probably close in age. “Do you have everything Claire?” Michelle asked, looking at the small, pink bag the other woman carried. “I do,” Claire said. “Can I have a seat?” “Please.” Claire walked over to the couch and took a seat, putting the bag on the coffee table. Michelle took a seat next to her. Unzipping a small pocket on the bag, Claire brought out a passport, a thick envelope and several plane tickets. “Your travel documents.” Michelle reached out and gathered them up, looking through the documents. She then opened the envelope, eyes widening as she saw all the cash within. “Oh, my.” Claire unzipped the bag while Michelle was looking over the passport. When she dumped the contents on the table, the little looked over. “What’s that?” “Your travel clothing.” She reached forward, sorting out the clothing, frowning. Then she found the thick disposable pull up. “I am not wearing these!” she snapped at Claire. She was surprised when Claire shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t care what you wear.” “Then why…” “Because my employer, the person who is paying me to help you, does think you should wear them.” “That’s ridiculous.” “Is it? Listen, I am not going to pretend to understand what goes on between littles and bigs. I’m not going to tell you I understand your issues. Let’s face it, I don’t, and to be honest, I think most of you littles are terrible at being adults.” Michelle sat back, making a noise of disgust. Claire shrugged her shoulders again. “To me, it looks like you’re pouting, throwing a tantrum.” “I am not throwing a tantrum,” Michelle snapped and wondered if maybe she did sound like she was throwing a tantrum. “Well, you look like you are to me, and you are going to really look like you are to a big, and for the first leg of your journey, you are going to be on a plane surrounded by bigs. Do you really want them to be thinking you are throwing a tantrum, being a naughty little?” Michelle sat up, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “No.” “So let me explain things to you, the way they were explained to me. If you put on those clothes, you will look like a well cared for little. If you smile and say, ‘yes sir’, ‘no sir’, yes ma’am’, ‘no ma’am’, ‘mommy works hard to take care of me’, ‘I’m going to grandmas’, ‘thank you sir’, ‘thank you, ma’am’ then you sound like a well behaved little. And if you are wearing disposable training panties, just a step above diapers, you don’t need to be put into diapers.” Claire leaned back. “Apparently bigs don’t often bird dog other bigs’ littles.” Michelle had to think about what that meant for a few seconds before she bobbed her head. “I understand.” Claire only nodded. “I’m going to go and put these on.” Claire nodded again, seeming uninterested. Gathering up the contents she went into her room for some privacy. She stripped off her jeans and blouse, then her panties and the bra she really did not need. She had a suspicion from what Claire had said that wearing a bra might not be a good idea. It was not easy to dress without it. It had always seemed like an adult piece of clothing. She pulled on the soft pink slip first. Then she grabbed one pair of training pants and with trepidation pulled them on. They were so thick, covered in babyish prints, crinkling softly. Would they really offer her the protection that Claire said? Or was this a trap? Would Claire lead her to Mr Orin, John, and hand her over. The childish outfit and the training pants there to prove that she was just a baby. Michelle shook her head. “Don’t be so stupid and paranoid.” Quickly she finished dressing, white sundress with an empire waist and a skirt that came about halfway up her thighs. White socks, black maryjanes and a pink cardigan that was suitable for the weather. Reluctantly she looked in the mirror. Any hopes that she would see a small adult dressed in a ridiculous outfit were dashed. “No wonder John wants me as his little girl.” But if she got away she would never have to wear anything like this ever again. So she’d do it right. She found a set of hair elastics and ribbons among the remaining clothing. She put her hair up in pigtails, tied the ribbons in big, stupid bows. There. No big on that flight would think she was not being taken care of. She shoved the remaining pieces of clothing and the extra training pants back into the bag. Then she walked out of the room, trying not to look as embarrassed as she felt. Claire’s head was leaned back against the top of the couch. She looked like she was asleep. Michelle coughed softly. Claire straightened and looked towards the small woman. “Ready to go?” “Yes. Can you help me with the rest of my luggage.” She looked towards the bags packed up in the corner of the room. “No.” “Pardon?” “I’m not going to help you with them. And you should just leave all of it.” “But,” she paused, knew that she looked confused. “Why?” “They’ll slow you down if you need to run. And a little with that much luggage? Do you really want some big offering to help you carry them, to stick close to you?” Michelle shook her head but still looked towards the luggage that held the most important things she owned. Claire sighed. “How long is rent paid on this place?” “Three months,” Michelle said, still confused. “Once you are settled, get someone to mail it to someplace you can pick it up and have them sell the rest.” She nodded with determination after a moment. “Right. Thank you.” Michelle paused on the threshold, looking back at her apartment. She hated being chased out of it. She would have hated being John’s little baby girl more she supposed. She reached up and turned off the light, locking the door behind her. Out on the street, Claire waved down a taxi and helped Michelle up into the booster seat in the back. The ride to the airport was quiet and the closer they got to it the more Michelle was rethinking her decision. She was giving up a lot. Her apartment, her things, her job… maybe she should just stay. If she only avoided John he might leave her alone. The taxi stopped a red light. Michelle saw an Amazon, holding the hand of a child… no, a little. The little’s tight shorts showed off the thick diaper underneath, which also peaked out from the leg and waist openings of the shorts. No. She would not stay. When they arrived at the airport, Claire walked with her up to the ticket and baggage check. Michelle presented her ticket and passport. The tall inbetweener took them and looked over the documents. “Are you travelling alone sweetie?” Michelle bit back the first reply she thought of and instead said, “Yes sir. Mommy works hard all the time, so I am going to my grandma.” “Isn’t that sweet,” the man said as he entered some information into a computer. “Any luggage sweetie?” “Just this,” she said, holding up her pink bag. “Well, that’s small enough to go as check-on, so you just keep that with you and show it to security.” “Yes sir.” He gave her back her ticket and passport, and Michelle walked, a soft crinkle coming from under her skirt, towards the security checkpoint. Claire watched the small woman head deeper into the airport, and soon she was lost from sight. She thought that Michelle, as long as she remembered what she had been told, would probably make it clear. She turned and headed towards the exit. Of course, she figured that most littles needed to be taken care of, and she was really not doing Michelle any favours, but she was being paid to help her. And Claire made a point of doing what her employers asked, as long as it was not entirely illegal. And at the moment helping littles get away from bigs was perfectly legal, but not something you wanted to put on your CV. She got into one of the long line of waiting taxis outside of the airport and told the driver to take her back into the city. Her office and apartment were in the same building, a modest six-story apartment building, in a block of similar structures. Her small office was on the ground floor, a frosted glass door proclaiming to the world ‘Claire Edgerson - PI’ that opened up into a single room large enough for a desk, some chairs for visitors and several filing cabinets. She went to that office first, just to make sure nothing had been pushed through the mail slot that needed her attention and then, after locking up, out to the alley around back to have a cigarette. Leaning against the brick wall, looking up at the stars between the roof lines above her, she blew smoke into the air. Her job was nothing like she had dreamed as a girl when she had been reading Sherlock Holmes and Nancy Drew. Little excitement, no smugglers in secluded coves, just a lot of sneaking around. Finally, she ground out the half-smoked cigarette against the wall and then returned to the front of the building, tossing the crushed cigarette into a receptacle. One learned early in life not to litter; it was considered immature. The small apartment she lived in was on the second floor. One bedroom, comfortable; like all the apartments in the building, it was scaled to inbetweeners. Her computer sat on a small desk near the windows. Sitting down she logged on and brought up her email reader. Sorting through the email threads, she found the one she wanted and replied to it. ‘Michelle Rork delivered to the airport. I think she will make it.’ She paused and then added, ‘Please let me know if she does.’ Claire did not always ask to know how the littles she helped did. She did not want to find out they had failed. She only asked if she thought they had a decent chance. There were several other emails threads she replied to, for the most part with a simple, ‘job done’, sometimes with a few more details. Then she read through the new emails. Some she answered with, ‘I’ll take the job’ and others with a ‘not interested’. One email asked if she was willing to help a little named Daniel Kine get out of the area, a job very similar to the one she had just finished with Michelle. She thought about it for a moment. It paid well. However, in the last few months, she had met too many littles who were beyond her ability to help. Whining children who thought they were adults. It was too depressing to deal with them. ‘Would like to meet Daniel first, will make the decision after that,’ she typed and then hit reply. Work done Claire got up, went and poured herself a glass of beer, then turned on her TV. A few hours spent making notes for the next days work, and then, exhausted after a long day, she went to clean up before going to bed. Claire started most mornings with a jog, she ran about three miles, stopped halfway at a park to use some outdoor exercise equipment, then a faster run back home. Shower, a good breakfast, she dressed before checking her phone messages and email. She got a reply from her employer, telling her she could meet with Daniel after he finished work at about 5:30 that evening, and provided an address. Working out her schedule, a few quick emails, checking her map software and about 9 in the morning she was ready to go. First stop was a rental place to pick up a panel van, then another stop where two men, friends of hers, got into the vehicle. They also picked up some boxes before their final stop, which was a fancy looking six-story building, closer to the more affluent part of town, as it were. “Just give me a few minutes,” Claire told them. The two men, Roger and Pete, nodded. Roger taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Sure,” Roger said. Claire put her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and walked up to the front of the building. It was one of those places that struck a medium between inbetweeners and bigs. Littles likely would be at a loss in such a structure, and the tallest of bigs would find it uncomfortable to always be ducking under door frames and having the tops of the heads close to the ceiling. She looked at the call buttons just inside the vestibule and then pressed one. It took several seconds before there was an answer. “Yes?” a small, high voice asked. “Miss Trent?” “Yes?” “My name is Claire. I think my employer told you to expect me.” “Oh yes.” Excitement in the tone. “Please come up.” The door buzzed. Claire entered the building, took the elevator up to the third floor. Not long after she was knocking on a door marked with 3C. Within seconds she heard the door bolt slide back and then the door was opened by a little standing on a chair. Lisa Trent wore her black hair in a ponytail, all her hair pulled away from the rounded features of her face, and wore a pink, party like dress with a too short skirt. “Thank you,” were the first words out of her mouth. Claire nodded, stepped in and closed the door behind her. Lisa stepped down from the chair. “You’re alone here?” “Yes,” she nodded, “Miss…. My roommate, Cheryl, she’s gone for the day.” Claire did a quick circuit of the apartment, looking for nanny cams or the like. “Okay,” she said once she was done, “let’s get you out of here.” She pulled her phone from her jacket and called Roger. “Get up here, I’ll buzz you in.” Roger and Pete were soon in the apartment, with a cart and the boxes they had picked up earlier. The two men began packing up all of the things Lisa indicated. “No, leave all those,” Lisa said when they had started to clear out a wardrobe. “Cheryl bought them, and I don’t want them.” They were done in a surprisingly short time, Lisa owning very few things. “I’m going to change,” Lisa said. She had been pulling at the hem of her skirt since Roger and Pete had entered as if that might hide the diaper she was wearing. “No,” Claire said. “Leave it on. You can change later.” “But…” Claire turned a hard gaze on Lisa, and after a moment Lisa nodded meekly. “Okay.” Claire felt bad for intimidating Lisa, but she did not want to waste any time. For all she knew Cheryl was on her way back. They left the apartment, all the boxes on the cart, Pete and Roger pushing it. They were on the first floor, making their way towards the exit when the door to 1A opened, and an Amazon woman stepped out. Her gaze swept all of them, locking on Lisa for a few seconds before she asked the inbetweeners. “What do you think you are doing?” Lisa looked nervous, eyes wide, and Roger and Pete looked a little uncomfortable, presented with a woman who had about two feet of height on either of them. Claire, relaxed, said, “We’ve been asked by Cheryl to take all of this one’s,” she looked down at Lisa, “stuff to storage, or to be donated to charity. All the things that are too adult, if you get my meaning.” The woman’s demeanour changed instantly; she actually smiled. “Well it is about time,” she said, looking at Lisa. “That one needed this.” Claire shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose. We’re supposed to take her with us so she can see all her stuff go. Seems a little cruel to me, think you could watch her for me?” Lisa let out a small squeak. “Oh no dear,” the woman said to Claire. “This is good for her. You take her with you just like Cheryl asked. Make sure you do your job young lady.” Claire sighed as if she was being put out. The woman gave her a hard stare. Claire pretended a little concern and said, “Yes ma’am.” And so they left, with the woman from 1A actually helping them carry some stuff out to the van. The woman lifted Lisa up and put her in the child seat Claire had been sure to get in the van. Once they had driven away, Lisa asked, “How did you do that?” “Just gave her an immature inbetweener to turn her suspicion on,” Claire said. “Give people what they want to see and they’ll let you do what you want. Now let’s get you to your new apartment.” After getting Lisa settled into a small, bachelors apartment, then dropping off Roger and Pete, and returning the van to the rental agency, Claire was on to her next job. It was a building, near the centre of the town, a large condo designed for the bigger members of the population. It was a little daunting as the place was designed with people much taller than she. Likely this was how Lisa had felt in her old building. How would Lisa or any little feel in a place like this? Insignificant maybe? She shook off the moment of empathy. There was a job to do. Fortunately, her destination was not the top floors, which might have necessitated her jumping up to hit the buttons, and she only had to reach to eye height to press the button she wanted. She looked around the floor, wanting to be sure no one was around, then walked down the hall until she got to apartment 1109. Another look around, then she reached into her jacket, removing a set of lock picks. For the most part, she did not break laws, but she was willing to skirt them if required for a payday. She slid the pick and a tension bar into the lock and worked the tumblers. With a turn of her wrist, she popped the lock, heard the sound of the bolt sliding back. Taking one more look around, just to be sure no one was watching, she thumped the door three times, then turned and walked away, back to the elevators. She did not know what was going to happen next, whether a little was going to escape the room, or someone was going to enter to help the little. She did not know, and it really did not matter to her. Afterwards, she spent about an hour shopping. Next, she escorted a little from her apartment to a taxi. As simple as that, but apparently important. She stopped off at an apartment and persuaded the superintendent to rent an apartment to a little (convincing being a bribe and then a suggestion that going back on his word might be unwise). Then it was across town, into the suburbs. She walked along a strip of undeveloped property that about fifteen large houses backed onto. The fences were taller than she, so Claire did not have to duck down to go unseen. She counted the gates as she went. Twelve gates in she stopped and held her cell phone up above the wall, taking a picture. Bringing it down she looked at the image on the screen. She was in the right place. The gate looked like it had not been used in a few years. It was overgrown with ivy, probably would be pretty hard to open. She brought a folding knife out of her jeans pocket and slashed it through the vines, freeing up the gate so it would be easy to open. A locking mechanism was near the top of the gate. Almost out of her reach, and easily out of the reach of any little. She slipped a simple device into place, dropped a wire down the other side. Lastly, she took the bag she had brought with her (a bag filled with a change of clothing, some money, toiletries, some tools with which tracking devices could be removed) and hid it in some bushes beside the gate. Maybe the little would be able to get close to the gate. Maybe they would be able to pull the wire and unlock the gate. Maybe they would push it open and escape. And maybe not. Claire had been paid to make it possible, not to ensure it happened. That was all the work she had scheduled for the day, except for meeting with Daniel, and that was about two hours away. She went for an early dinner, eating at a place that would have been outside of her price range a few months before. Afterwards, she took a taxi to the address she had been given. It was a decent enough neighbourhood, similar to the one that Michelle had lived in. Set up mostly towards inbetweeners. She was soon standing in front of Daniel’s door, knocking. A moment later it opened. “Miss Edgerson?” an average sized little man asked her. His voice was deeper than she would have expected. “Call me Claire, may I come in.” “Please.” She stepped in as Daniel closed the door. The apartment was neat, clean. She could smell something spicy. “Would you like anything to drink? To eat?” Daniel asked her. “No thank you. Let’s get down to business. Daniel showed her to the living room. He was a very pretty little, the sort of delicate features that probably had people tell him he would make girls jealous. She also noticed that he was well muscled. Not the ridiculous muscles that some littles worked on as if that would stop a big from picking them up, but muscles that suggested he worked hard every day. “Tell me about your problem,” she said to him. “Ai yai yai,” he said, running his hands through short, brown hair. “I’m a mechanic,” he told her. “I work in a garage about ten minutes from here.” “A mechanic?” she could not keep a hint of incredulity from her voice. He must have heard it, but he did not seem insulted. In fact, he laughed. “You want to pull an engine out of a car almost every mechanic is going to press a button on a hoist.” “Yes, of course.” “Plus, with cars having less and less room under the hood, a small set of hands is pretty useful. People larger than me sometimes have to pull the engine just to get at something I can fix just by reaching in. My boss likes that. I get things done fast.” “I see. It sounds as if things are okay for you.” “They were, until about two months ago. I make it a habit to avoid customers, especially the bigger ones.” Claire nodded. “But I was getting something out of the storeroom when this Amazon came into my boss’ office. She saw me… I thought she was going to grab me right there and then.” “She didn’t I take it.” “No, but she asked my boss to introduce me, asked a bunch of questions. I got out of there just by reminding my boss I had a rush job I needed to finish. Once out of there I stayed out of there and in the repairs bays where the customers are not allowed.” “That wasn’t it though.” He shook his head. “Two days later she shows up with an old classic, a beater, rusted out. Ask my boss to restore it. He says it will take a few months, cost a lot, but she’s fine with it. Paying top dollar for it. Comes by every other day to take a look.” “So you think she is stalking you?” “Yeah. And last week it got pretty obvious. Heard her ask my boss if I take a lot of bathroom breaks. I know where that goes.” “So, what do you want?” “I want out of here.” “To go where?” “There’s a small town called Wespolin, middle of nowhere. Guy owns a garage there. He offered me a job a few years back. Says that the job is still there if I want it.” “And you need help with that?” “I need a passport, for one thing. I sent a rush application, but without a big co-signing it is going to take a month.” “Anything else?” “Plane tickets. And I need someone to go and check the job out.” “Pardon?” “This guy seems okay, but I want someone to make sure he is legit. What’s the point of running there if it turns out the job he offered is a lie, that he just wants to put me in a nursery, or maybe sell me.” “I don’t think he could sell you.” “Fine, take a generous finders fee.” Claire looked at Daniel for a few seconds. He seemed smart, Sounded like he had given it the right amount of thought. Likely was not going to do anything stupid. “I can help you Mr Kine.” He nodded, relaxing. “Thanks. I’ve been feeling pretty desperate.” “Keep going to work. The Amazon likely won’t make a move until she can get you to prove to everyone you are in need of her care. Especially true if your boss values you.” Daniel nodded. She asked him a few more questions, gave him her number in case of an emergency then finished their meeting telling him that she would contact him soon. Later, back at her apartment, she sent an email to her employer about the job. The next morning Claire received an email that informed her that Daniel’s passport would be delivered in the next few days. She also had booking reservations for flights, hotels and rental cars. She did not know who her employer was, but they had money, and they were very well organised. Claire packed quickly, just enough for a day. Her flight was leaving in a few hours, which gave her just enough time to run one fast job. She stopped off at a speciality store that sold quality clothing in all sizes, which was something of a code for mature clothing styles for littles. An Amazon woman was seated at a nearby cafe, watching the door suspiciously. Or maybe that was just Claire’s imagination. Working with littles was making her paranoid maybe. Inside she bought a suit and some other clothing and then left the store. The woman at the coffee shop started at her for a few seconds, then looked elsewhere. Apparently, Claire did not interest her. She dropped the suit off at a house in the suburbs, hanging it on the inside of the front gate before catching a cab to the airport. Then she boarded her flight, plenty of time to spare. The flight was uneventful, as was the drive into Wespolin. Wespolin itself was pretty much as Daniel had said. Out in the middle of nowhere. There were massive warehouses on the edge of the town because being in the middle of nowhere still meant you were in the middle of things and the town was something of a distribution centre. Still, it was not the sort of place the generally more cosmopolitan bigs would enjoy. By the time she left the next day, she knew everything she needed. It was late by the time she got back home, and she was feeling pretty tired, but she made a point of stopping off in her office. She was a little surprised to find a business card in her mailbox. It belonged to a police detective; Olive Quaint. A neat note written on the back said, ‘Please call me at your earliest convenience.’ What would a police detective want with her? It was too late to call, so she went back to her apartment, and after checking her email went to bed. She had almost nothing to do the next day. A meeting with Daniel after he got off work, but nothing else. She decided she would call detective Quaint. The woman who answered it had the deep, yet still feminine voice Claire associated with Amazons. “Detective Quaint.” “Detective, this is Claire Edgerson. You left your card at my office.” “Ah, Miss Edgerson. Thank you for getting back to me. I was hoping you’d speak to me, help me in a case I am looking into.” “Always happy to help the police. What is this about?” “Could you meet me this afternoon? I could come to your office about 2pm.” “That would be fine.” “See you then.” And she hung up. Claire sat back in her chair. She did not have quite a bad feeling about the call, but it was odd. Detective Olive Quaint was as Claire had pictured her; a tall Amazon. She had to duck down to get through the door of the office, and there was something slightly ridiculous when she took a seat in the visitor chair across from Claire. It was so obviously too small for her. Not that Claire showed her amusement. That would not be professional. It might also be unwise. The larger members of the population did not have a sense of humour about such things. “Can I get you anything Detective? Water, coffee?” “No thank you Miss Edgerson.” “So, why did you want to speak to me?” “Do you know a little named Wendy Laire?” “Yes,” Claire said immediately, not wanting the large detective to think that she was trying to hide anything. “Assuming we are talking about the same person, Wendy Laire hired me.” “What for?” Olive asked, leaning forward slightly, the chair she was sitting in creaking softly at the shift in weight. “Most of my work is confidential Detective Quaint.” Before the larger woman could say anything, Claire continued, “However, in this case, I don’t think there is any harm in telling you. She wanted me to check on an apartment, to see if the owner was discriminating against littles.” Olive sat back, the chair creaking again, a look of surprise on her face. After a moment she said, “Pardon?” “Wendy had been looking for a place. She was told that there were no vacant apartments. I asked and found out there were vacant apartments.” Olive frowned. “I don’t understand?” “You are not allowed to discriminate on size. I reminded the owner of that.” “Oh,” Olive said, her tone of voice conveying the message of ‘you’re one of those people.’ “That was the last contact I had with her.” A lie. “Why are you asking about her?” “Wendy disappeared about three weeks ago. Apparently, she just left her apartment, the one you helped her get.” An accusation, not of a legal failing, buy a societal one. “And the owner of the apartment has complained to the police?” “No. The disappearance was brought to us by a woman who was going to adopt Wendy. It was obvious that she was not able to take care of herself.” Claire nodded. “I hope you find her then.” “Oh, we found her. Wendy is safely in her new nursery with her new mommy.” Claire had been worried that Wendy’s ultimate fate was to end up in a nursery, but she had been hopeful. “So, why are you here?” “Wendy told her mommy, after a good, long spanking, that you helped her leave the city.” “Really?” Claire asked. “Why do you think she would say that?” “Because you helped her to leave the city.” Claire nodded. “Or a scared, spanked little told her mommy that someone helped her, perhaps in hopes of deflecting anger or just to avoid telling her mommy that she, Wendy, snuck away all on her own, and thus might do so again.” Olive nodded after a few seconds. “That may be possible as well.” “Even if I did help her, that is not against the law.” “No, it is not. At the moment.” Claire did not rise to it. “So I’m curious as to why you even needed to speak to me?” “I just wanted to meet you. To let you know that I’ve become interested in you.” Was that a threat? A warning? “How flattering,” Claire said. “You might choose to see it like that. Thank you for making time to speak with me.” She stood, towering over Claire who was still seated. Not quite as funny as it had been. “Good day Miss Edgerson.” “Goodbye Detective,” Claire said, not standing and letting Olive show herself out of the office. She would have to let her employer know that she had attracted such attention. She wondered who Wendy’s new mother was that she could get the police involved. Claire left her office, careful not to make it obvious that she was looking around as she looked around. She did not see Detective Quaint, but a large car, in which a large man sat, was parked across the street from her office. Flagging down a cab, she got in, told the driver to take her across town. The car followed her. She changed her destination twice, the cab driver muttering as he had to turn around. The big car was always behind her. The cab dropped her off at a clothing store. Claire spent about an hour trying on clothing. When she left the car was gone. “Must have bored him,” she said softly. Another taxi, a few more double backs and she was sure no one was following her. She took an early dinner before having a cab take her to the area that Daniel lived, but did not have the taxi drop her off right in front of his building. The next day Claire had a reply from her employer suggesting, in light of the police interest, that once she finished up with Daniel, she take a break. Claire was going to miss the extra money, but she saw the wisdom in it. She’d be back to taking pictures of people cheating and the occasional lost person or item case. Well, they all paid the bills. However for the moment, there was still the work with Daniel, and her employer had arranged for a rush on the passport. It had already been delivered to a post office box, ready for pick up. She grabbed her stuff, taking some time to make some special preparations. Just in case. She checked her messenger bag and then headed out. Outside her building, she waited a minute or two before she flagged down a taxi and climbed in. As she leaned back in the seat, her gaze shifting to the mirrors. After a few minutes, she knew she was being followed again. Another big car, always there behind her. And she knew who it probably was. Well, she had prepared for it after all. The cab dropped her off in front of the big post office near the centre of the city. It was busy, and no one really paid her much attention. She walked along the marble corridors until she reached an area full of post office boxes, thousands of them, forming hallways of little doors. Her’s was just another among many, a tree hidden in a forest. A turn of a key unlocked the door. She reached in and took the courier envelope from within in, a few seconds to slide it into her messenger bag. When she looked up, she saw detective Quaint standing at the end of the corridor. She closed and locked the post office box door and walked towards the Amazon. “Good morning Detective, what a pleasant surprised.” Olive nodded. “Morning. Don’t have your mail dropped off at your office?” “Some things you like to be anonymous,” Claire said with a smile. “May I see it?” She held out her hand. “Why detective, do you have a warrant?” Olive’s eyes widened. Her lips parted. “Just joking,” Claire said and reached into the bag. “Always hear that on TV and thought it would be funny to say just once.” Frowning, Olive reached out and took the envelope. “No one likes a comedian,” pause, “little girl.” Ouch, Claire thought, hoping she had not pushed the Amazon too far. However, Olive seemed content with the warning and tore open the envelope. Within was what looked like a magazine with a glossy black cover. Frowning again Olive opened it and flipped through the pages. Claire was careful not to smile when she saw a flush appear on the larger woman’s cheeks. It was a catalogue full of various depraved bondage gear. Olive shut the catalogue and held it out towards Claire as if it were something disgusting. “You’re a pervert.” “I’m just curious,” Claire said, not bothered by Olive’s condemnation. “It’s why I didn’t want it delivered to my office.” She took the catalogue back. Olive stared at her, lips pressed into a tight line. Claire was happy she was over six feet tall. Any shorter and she was pretty sure she would be over Detective Quaint’s knee. “Those things are for adults, don’t order anything,” Olive warned, and then turned and walked away. And how would you stop me, Claire thought but did not voice. After all, there was probably lots of ways the Amazon could stop her. She slipped the catalogue back into the envelope and put it back into her bag, beside the real envelope which she had removed from the post office box. It never hurt to make preparations. She knew what was in the envelope, but as Daniel would still be at work, there was no point in trying to deliver it at that moment. Instead, she made the rounds, visiting old contacts and looking for work. She would need the old kinds of jobs once she finished with Daniel. And it would bore anyone who might be following her. That night she met with Daniel, handing him the envelope. He tore it open, spilling out a passport as well as several tickets and a few sheets of paper. “This is amazing,” he said, looking at the passport. “Your benefactor, my employer, does good work.” He nodded, looking over the tickets and the papers he had been given. “Do you think I can make it?” Claire shrugged her shoulders. “As long as you follow the instructions you should.” “I want to leave now.” “Don’t blame you, but if you leave at the start of the weekend, it's at least a few days before you are missed.” “I’m getting more and more worried about that woman,” he said. “I don’t like to admit it, but,” he paused, swallowed, “I’m scared.” Claire recalled her own, recent interactions with an Amazon. She was not willing to say she understood, but she did say, “I know. That’s smart.” He laughed, snorted really, and nodded. “I guess it is.” “Keep your calm. Continue you like you have. Don’t change anything you do, and if you need help, give me a call. You won’t need help though.” “Right. Thanks.” He shuffled the envelope contents into a neat pile. “You’re welcome.” He nodded. “Thank you, thank you. I can’t say it enough.” “Maybe one day you can fix a car for me.” “Deal.” Claire excused herself and left the apartment. Outside, a little distance from the building, she lit up a cigarette, smoked it slowly, looking around, wondering how many other littles were in the apartments, how many others might need help getting away from some big. She stubbed out her cigarette and tossed it into the proper receptacle. In a few days, it would be back to the divorce cases, serving papers, tracking down deadbeats. She had to admit, helping littles escape had been, well, not really exciting, but it had been satisfying. Perhaps in a month or two Detective Quaint would find someone else to hassle and Claire could get back to it. She flagged down a cab and told the driver to take her home. In another city, in a port, another private investigator was helping another little get free of a would-be Amazon parent. Patricia Frost, six and a half feet inbetweener was leading Rachael Green, four and a quarter foot little, towards a ship. “All you have to do is behave,” Patricia said. “Just be a good girl, and no one will give you any trouble.” Rachel nodded, and then said, “Thank you, Miss Frost. I really appreciate it.” Patricia smiled down at her. “No problem. Now, remember, good girl.” She walked Rachel up to the boarding stairs and then left the little to handle the rest. Patricia did not look back as she made her way off the docks. When she reached her parked car, she took out her cellphone and typed in a message. ‘Rachel safely onboard’. The acknowledgement came a short time later and was a simple ‘good work’. “Fool,” Patricia said softly. “Wasting all this money to help stupid littles who are just going to get caught anyway.” Putting the one phone away she fished a second phone from her pocket. The number she wanted was already in the phone’s memory, so a few swipes of the screen was all it took to dial. She listened to the other phone ring a few times before it was picked up. The voice on the other end replied with, “Peterson Residence.” “Let me talk to Amanda Peterson.” The person on the other end was silent for a moment and then asked, “Who shall I say is calling?” “Tell her it is about Rachael Green, getting farther and farther away from her.” “Just a moment please.” Patricia leaned against her car, waiting. Maybe she had overplayed her hand. Maybe she had been wrong about how much Amanda wanted Rachael. She never understood the desire of Amazons to claim littles. Then on the other end, “This is Amanda Peterson. What do you have to tell me about Rachael?” Snappy tone, a woman used to getting her way. “Rachael is going away. You’re never going to find her again. I’m not a kidnapper or anything. I just know where she is and where she is going. If you’d like to know the details, it will cost you twenty-five thousand dollars.” “Now listen here, whoever you are. I don’t know what you think you are doing but…” “Check her apartment. See if she is still there. Make it fast. You only got a few hours. Call me back when you made your decision. You got this number on your call display.” And then Patricia hung up. She had to admit, getting the last word with an Amazon was enjoyable. Patricia was about halfway home when her phone rang. She pulled off to the side of the road and answered it. “Where is Rachael?” was the demand as soon as the call was answered. “That information will cost you twenty-five thousand dollars.” “I can’t just give you…” “I’m not stupid Mrs Peterson. I don’t expect you to just give me the money. I will send the details for you to put the money in an escrow account, to be released to a numbered corporation as soon as you adopt Rachel. All nice and legal, and I don’t see a dollar until you have Rachel well and truly in your hands.” Silence for a moment. “And what if I choose not to adopt her?” Very sly, Patricia thought, but she said, “Then some other person could adopt her and take her, couldn’t they?” “Yes.” It sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth. “I am sending you the information. As soon as I see the escrow account has been set up, I’ll let you know where Rachael is. Tick tock Mrs Peterson.” And then she hung up again. Patricia was parking her car when she got a message telling her the account was set up. She called Amanda again. As soon as the phone was picked up, she said, “Rachael is on a ship, and in two days she’ll be beyond your reach, but the ship makes one stop in a jurisdiction where you might take control of Rachael, and no one will say anything. Or maybe you can contact someone on the ship and have them claim her. For all, I know you’ll just charter a helicopter to fly you out there. I am sending you the details. Good luck.” Then she hung up and sent an email. She figured that she would have the money in a week at the most. She might even have it by tomorrow. Patrica locked her car and walked towards her apartment building, whistling a cheerful tune: ‘I’m in the money’. The sunny tune died on her lips when she stepped out of the elevator, seeing two men standing outside of her apartment. They were dressed in suits, with thin overcoats. One was a tall inbetweener, the other a giant. “Miss Frost,” the giant asked his voice deep, almost a boom. “Yes?” she asked as she heard the elevator doors close behind her. There was that avenue of retreat cut off. Why was she thinking of escape? “Miss Frost we would like to speak to you about your reported income and your taxes,” the inbetweener told her. “You’re with the tax department?” she asked, somewhat relieved. “Why did you come here? You could have called me. I would have come down to your office. I’m sure there is not a problem.” “You think tax evasion is not a problem,” the giant said, loudly. “No, not at all, it’s just…” “Paying taxes is the mature action of an adult,” he told her. Patricia felt her stomach fall. Words like that, from a big, were never good. The inbetweener took a step forward. “We’d like to talk to you about your finances, down at the office.” He looked as if he was going to try to put his hands on her. She ducked to the side. “Wait. There’s something. Someone is helping littles get away from bigs, helping them set up in new places. I can show you the details.” “Miss Frost,” the inbetweener said, sounding a little exhausted, “that really has nothing to do with us, now please…” “Just a moment,” the big interrupted his partner. “I want to see this.” The inbetweener looked like he might argue, then shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” She would be able to cut some deals, she thought as she unlocked her door. She would pay the taxes she owed, and there would be no reason for anyone to consider her immature. She nearly ran to her computer, logging on. The computer’s desktop appeared. She brought up the mail reader. “Here, it is all…” Eyes widened. All the emails having to do with her work helping littles was gone. The records of months of work all just gone. How was the even possible? “I… I don’t understand.” The big, leaning over slightly to keep his head from brushing her ceiling, put a large hand on her shoulder. “What don’t you understand?” She swallowed. “The email records, they are gone…” “Lying is not very mature young lady,” he rumbled above her. Her phone vibrated. “Let’s go down to our office,” the inbetweener said. Patricia took her phone from her pocket. There was message. She opened it. It read, ‘Payback is a bitch.’ Then the message erased itself, taking so many other messages with it. “Look,” she said, holding the phone up, “someone is erasing all the proof.” Of course, by then it was too late, there was nothing to see. She argued with the two men as they escorted her from the apartment. She might have continued had not the big threatened to spank her if she kept telling lies. A silent Patricia was escorted from the building, wishing she had not gotten greedy, or at least had been greedy but still filed complete tax returns. In a three-story suite, in an old, tall, red brick apartment building, a group of Amazons were meeting for drinks, to talk. They were all well dressed, well presented, clothing and jewellery subtly speaking of money. “I just can’t believe that Annie disappeared like that,” Karen Past said. There was a bit of redness about her blue eyes, and her curly, black hair looked a little unkempt. “I had just gotten the nursery ready and as waiting for her to come to work so I could take her home with me.” “And her apartment was empty?” Evangeline Court asked her. Evangeline was the youngest of the women there, and the most fancily dressed. Trophy wife of an older man. “Just furniture left behind, a few other odds and ends.” “Did you go to the police?” the hostess asked. “I did, but they couldn’t help me. They said that there was no sign of foul play and that Annie was, at least when she disappeared, considered an adult.” “Ridiculous!” Yvonne Tanson said, before taking a large gulp of her red wine. She was the oldest woman there, brown hair gone mostly grey, a thicker build than the others. “How could anyone think a little is anything but a child? You should have told those police officers to get off their bottoms and get to work!” Karen nodded and took a sip of her wine. “I guess I should have made a bigger deal of it… You know, they say that Annie was not the only little who had apparently disappeared. They say it is like someone is helping them move to new places.” “Helping littles?” Yvonne said, scandalised. “That is criminal!” “Not yet,” the hostess said. “And perhaps some littles might be able to take care of themselves.” “That is easy for you to say,” Evangeline told her. “You have a pretty little all your own after all.” Chase Morgan smiled. “Guilty I suppose.” “It’s not like you ever thought tiny EmEm was able to take care of herself, and a good thing too,” Yvonne stated. “Pretty as she is stupid.” Chase was still smiling, taking a drink of her wine, perhaps hiding a laugh? “I suppose that is so,” she said, putting the wine down. “I don’t suppose,“ Karen said, “that you could let us look in on EmEm?” “I don’t know, she is asleep, I would hate to wake her.” Chase looked at the baby monitor on the table beside her. From it had come the occasional soft breathing sound or a tiny snore. “Nonsense,” Yvonne told her. Chase stared at the older woman, raising an eyebrow. Yvonne was quick to back down. “I just meant some littles are naughty and stay up when you think them asleep.” Chase seemed willing to accept the older woman’s retreat. “Yes, I have heard that,” she said, her tone suggesting that EmEm would never be so naughty. “But maybe I will look in on her, make sure she is still dry.” “…I will look in on her, make sure she is still dry.” Chase’s voice came from the baby monitor sitting close to Emily’s crib. Emily was seated in the crib, thick diaper spreading her thighs a little, dressed in a footed sleeper with a bunny ear hood. On her knees was her laptop. She looked towards the monitor. Probably it would be a few minutes at least before Chase ‘gave in’ to her guests and brought them up to show her off. The baby monitor, like everything that Chase had bought for the nursery, was of the highest quality, hooked into the wireless network so it could be controlled by a smartphone app. Emily had hacked it the first night, turning it into a ‘Chase’ monitor, and just letting Chase hear what she wanted her to. One ear on the monitor Emily finished off her work, doing what she could to help poor Rachael Green. There was not much Emily could manage for the betrayed Rachel, trapped on a ship as she was. She had turned in Patricia Frost for tax fraud, so there was at least some justice, but Rachael would not see it like that were she to be snapped up by Amanda Peterson. Emily had sent a telegram to the ship, for Rachael, warning her of what was happening. She had also purchased passage for a second, empty cabin, then hacked the ship’s reservation listing, making it seem that Rachael Green was now in the empty cabin and one Miss Smith was in Rachel’s cabin. If Rachel just stayed in her cabin and waited until the ship reached its ultimate destination, then she might just make it free. Without an agent on site, there was only so much she could do. “Well Rachael, if you end up getting caught I think I’ll tell Amanda about Patricia. If Amanda takes her in as a penitent ward, it might defect some of the crap from you.” It was not much, just like everything she did was not much. In truth, Emily was not really running her little escape system to help all the other littles. She was glad enough when she did help them get away, but what this really was about was learning. What escape plans worked. The best travel plans for going undetected. Places where a little might avoid bigs. Who could be trusted. Who could be trusted was the most important. Chase had power and money, and she could certainly offer a reward large enough that any of Emily’s agents (private detectives, bounty hunters, various independent specialists) might turn on her. Best to learn about people like Patricia Frost now. It, of course, made her feel a little guilty, but she was honestly trying to help them. She just was benefiting, whether the other littles got away or not. The conversation between Chase and her friends was coming to a point where Chase would agree to bring them up to the nursery, to look in on her. Emily turned off her computer and reached out of the crib to put it on a small table with other toys, nearly falling as she did so. Falling out of her crib was the last thing she wanted. She switched the baby monitor back to regular operation and slipped quietly under her sheets, pulling the rabbit-eared hood over her head. Now she had to decide if she was going to wet her diaper, and while that would result in being changed in front of the other women, at least she would be able to sleep in a dry diaper. Or she could hold it, and end up wetting it sometime in her sleep, spending the night in a wet diaper. Decisions decisions.
  19. The recent issue with the stories gave me the opportunity to repost this story after taking the time to fix grammar and spelling mistake that had been in the original. It is however the same story that I originally posted, just with less issues. I will be posting the the Chasing Emily side stories, 'Working on the Underground Railway' and 'Games of Skill, Games of Chance' once I have finished proofing them. I hope you enjoy this story Chasing Emily by InkuHime Emily loved her apartment. She loved the old brickwork, and the wood, polished by age, with a patina that was nearly impossible to reproduce artificially. Then there was the view, which most people would probably find nothing to praise, but Emily liked it. Old factories and squat office buildings, widely spaced, all of it built nearly a hundred years prior, and largely abandoned for the last twenty years. The way the morning and setting sun caught all the old architecture, she could stare at it for hours, or at least until the sun climbed too high or set. She liked the people or the fact that they minded their own business. And she really liked the fact that for whatever reason of reverse gentrification seemed to be at play that giants did not seem to want to live there. A few littles like her, but mostly inbetweeners, oddballs who did not quite fit into society. Artists mostly, a handful of people practising nearly forgotten trades, like the blacksmith who lived down on the first floor, or the man who made handmade paper in the factory across the street. She was a little out of place as she practised a highly technical trade. She was a programmer, a graphic designer, a bit of a hacker (that she kept extra secret), all freelance. Someone rang her doorbell. She got up from her seat, slipping down onto the floor from a chair that would have been a decent size for an inbetweener, and walked towards the door. She had a small flat screen monitor by the door displaying an image of the hallway. Standing in front of her apartment door was a young man, a tall inbetweener, a clerk at the organic market down the street. He carried two bags in his arms. Pressing the intercom button, she said, “Hey Ted, just leave them out there. I’ll get them in a couple of minutes.” “Sure thing Miss Black,” he said, then put the bags down and left. She waited until he had entered the rickety old elevator and the doors had closed before she opened her door and pulled both bags in. It was not that she thought that Ted was one of those that felt all littles needed to be taken care of, but the market he worked at was one of the few places that saw significant visitors from outside of the area. All she needed was him talking about the little who lived by herself. Say that to the right Amazon, well, the wrong one, and it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Bad analogy she knew, as bulls were colour blind. Carefully she picked up each bag and carried each one at a time to her kitchen. The place had been scaled towards the tall inbetweener crowd, sort of a safe size as even an Amazon could live there. As a little, she made use of a lot of step stools and put most things on lower shelves. Food unpacked she went back to her desk, did a little jump to get herself back on the chair. Her feet did not reach the floor. She was on the smaller size for an adult little, only a bit over four feet tall. Apparently, she was also ‘cute as a button’, which was not a phrase she liked. Back in her chair, she looked at the progress bar on her laptop. She was running a program of her own design, one that was converting an old banking program into a new web-based one. It was a specialised area of work that took most programmers weeks to do. Her program did it in a few hours, and then she would take a few hours to look for any problems before sending it back to the client. Not that she would send it back immediately. She would wait several days. No need to let her clients know how fast she really was. They might start making unreasonable demands on her time. She lost herself for a while, looking out her window at the late afternoon scene, the low buildings stretching out in front of her, off into the distance. There was a ribbon of undeveloped land between her neighbourhood and the city proper, where skyscrapers began to thrust up into the air. Some of her clients worked in those towers, paying her ridiculous amounts of money so that she could live her private life, on her own terms. There were times she felt like a prisoner, but she was content. And she reminded herself she would feel more like a prisoner in a crib. Her computer chimed. The program finished. She went to work, losing track of time, the apartment darkening as the sun slipped below the horizon. Emily was actually surprised when she looked up and found she was sitting in a dark apartment. Yawning widely she slipped off her chair and began to turn on lights, stretching out as she did so, wincing at a few tiny pains. Maybe she could get one of those standing desks, she thought, walking into her kitchen. Busying herself with making her dinner, she made herself stop thinking about her work. Eventually, dinner was made (she grilled up a steak, gently steamed some asparagus and broccoli) and then eaten. After cleaning up, she took a bath then, dressed in a terrycloth robe (made by the seamstress who loved two floors down), took a seat out on her balcony, a cup of coffee in her hands. The neighbourhood became a little livelier at night. Two of the factories had been converted to clubs, and people who would not live there came to celebrate. In the cooling night air she watched the expensive cars come in, park, saw the people get out. A lot of giants, seven and eight-foot men and women, a few even taller, dressed for a night out, laughing as they walked beneath her, unaware of the little who looked down at them. She liked it. When Emily finished her coffee, she left the balcony, put her cup in the dishwasher and then returned to her computer. Various emails had come in since she had last looked. Most of it was deleted, a few she read. There was one from Lyle Redmond, asking if she wanted to come and work for him. He made those offers at least once a month, and as always he asked if they could meet, or at least talk on the phone. Emily, of course, did not meet her clients, and she avoided the phone as her voice was high and apparently sweet. And Lyle Redmond--CEO of one of the largest entertainment companies in the country was nearly a ten-foot tall giant who had already ‘adopted’ five little ‘girls’ like they were a fashion accessory--was not someone she wanted to meet. Nor did she want him to hear her high and ‘sweet’ voice and start getting ideas. As always it took a bit of work to craft a polite refusal. Emily had no wish to send anything that would insult Lyle, He gave her a lot of work and paid her a lot of money, and he could have negative consequences on her career if he took it into his mind to do so. That done she shut off her computer and went to her bedroom to watch TV, carefully avoiding any show with bright colours and simple but catchy music. There was not a lot one could do in the neighbourhood. The artisanal shops tended to deal in bulk orders and did not handle walk-in clients well. The clubs opened later in the evening and were full of people Emily did not want to deal with anyway. She liked to walk around the old buildings, down the wide streets, during the early morning or later day, when few people were around. There was, however, one bar, a real hole in the wall, a place called Sharky’s, with windows so dusty anyone who did not live there would not know it was open. Sharky, Emily did not think that was his real name, was an old, blind man, who carded Emily every time she came in. Why she did not know. He could not even read the card. Once that bit of ritual was over he would make her a gin and tonic, she would climb up (literally) onto the barstool, and he would go back to his newspaper. “Why…” “I like the smell of the ink,” he told her. “God, your like some kind of mind reader.” “I can just predict stupid questions,” he told her. Farther down the bar Gus laughed. She turned to him and raised her glass in a salute. He returned the gesture with his beer mug. Gus was the blacksmith who lived and worked on the first floor of her building. He was about six feet tall, and Emily would swear nearly as broad in the shoulders. He worked part-time as a bouncer, able to handle even the giants who made trouble. She supposed if he spent his day forcing steel to his will putting a drunken amazon or giant in their place would not be too hard. “Sharky, give me a beer and a whisky chaser,” Candy said as she took a seat beside Emily. Candy was a mechanic, five and a half feet tall of grease monkey and attitude, with short black hair and oil in her blood. “Hey ya Emily.” “Afternoon Candy. Calling it early?” “Parts have to come in from the coast. Until they come in the car no go.” She nodded to Sharky (not that he could see it) as he put the beer down in front of her. “Client is going to bitch about it.” “They always do,” Emily said. “Amen to that sister.” She lifted her glass. Emily lifted her glass and tapped it against Candy’s mug. A musical chime filled the bar. “Don’t chip my glasses,” Sharky told them as he put Candy’s shot down. Candy smiled at Emily then took a pull of her beer. She put her beer on the bar and reached out, gently touching Emily’ short blonde hair. “You should grow this long.” Emily made a rude noise. “Long hair takes forever to take care of.” Candy ran her hand through her short hair. “That’s waste. Oh, Linda’s got this green fabric, make a great summer dress and go perfectly with those baby blues of yours.” Emily made another rude noise. “Don’t like summer dresses?” “For me, a summer dress is a skirt hike from being a toddler’s dress.” Sharky laughed. “Fair point. Make a nice, long skirt. Wear it with a white blouse. Look better than jeans and t-shirt.” “Maybe. Sometimes it is dangerous to look too mature.” “Not this again.” Candy sighed, then took a deep drink of her beer. “I’ll admit some littles end up being treated like children, but that is only the ones who can’t really take care of themselves.” Emily was about to argue that, but instead, she took a drink of her gin and tonic. She had gone to college and had been friends with three other littles. They had worked hard, putting up with RAs who were more like nannies, night time diapers, pull-ups, an almost complete lack of privacy; all because some littles ‘needed’ that level of care. The four of them had been in the top ten percent of their graduating class; Emily herself had been at the top. And four years later the other three were, last Emily had heard, in nurseries, spending their days in wet and messy diapers. “I’ll ask Linda about the cloth, have something nice made,” she said to Candy. “Good,” Candy said, smiling. In the city proper, the ballroom of the Grand Hotel was the complete opposite of Sharky’s. On the very top of the building, with three-story windows, large chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling, the room was brightly illuminated day or night. Polished marble floors, polished wooden accessory pieces, all clean, modern lines. It spoke of money. The ballroom was full of well-dressed people, moving about in various orbits, meeting and greeting. “Miss Morgan, a pleasure to see you here.” Chase Morgan turned towards the speaker. She was a handsome redhead, with dark brown eyes, and a dancer’s build. He was an inbetweener, perhaps a few inches over six feet. He was almost three feet shorter than her. “Mr Sands,” she said, nodding to him. He smiled up at her, apparently unconcerned by the differences in their heights. “I just wanted to let you know that my board is looking forward to the collaboration between your company and ours.” “I am glad to hear that,” she told him. Mr Sands was one of those inbetweeners who had what she considered the requisite level of maturity. If he had not, she would never have negotiated with him. They spoke a little more, discussing the evening, then he excused himself, moving off towards another group of people. The evening was a charitable event and an award ceremony for philanthropic acts of the local companies. It was all self-congratulatory and provided opportunities to network. Chase looked around. Most of the attendees were seven feet or taller, a smaller percentage six feet or a little higher. The staff members were all inbetweeners, except for the bartender who must have been ten feet tall. And then there was the one little. Lyle Redmond’s ‘daughter’. Not quite five feet tall, delicate, dressed in a silly little party dress, with a skirt puffed up so much her thick diapers were easily seen. She was an adorable thing, but at ten thousand dollars a plate, bringing a little was showing off. Though, Chase thought, if she had a little like that she might want to show her off as well. As if thinking about him summoned him Lyle approached her. “Chase,” he called all smiles. “Lyle,” she replied in kind. “I wanted to let you know I thought your presentation was great. Really, I think it was only that my company has more experience that we were awarded the contract.” “Thank you, Lyle,” she said, though she was thinking, ‘shut up you sanctimonious bastard.’ Some more small talk and then Lyle excused himself. Chase’s business partner, a man her size (though as she was wearing heels, she stood taller than him), young, well dressed, walked to her side, handing her a glass of champagne. “Thank you, Richard.” “What did Mr Redmond have to say?” “He was just rubbing it into my face, the contract we lost. All very polite.” She drank her champagne. “I’d like to get one up on him.” “Probably won’t be competing in the same arena again. Useful learning experience and got us a lot of contacts, but the board didn’t like it.” Chase nodded and then laughed. “Maybe I’ll find a little more pretty than his.” Richard only smiled. Eventually, everyone took their seats, and the food was brought out. There were speeches, awards, a nervous inbetweener man, the beneficiary of the charitable funds from that evening, who stuttered through a speech about how their generosity was going to help a lot of people. Everyone clapped politely. The most entertaining part of the evening, for Chase at least, was when Lyle’s little almost knocked a glass of juice over. Three tables away Chase watched as he pulled the girl over his lap, untaped her diaper, and proceeded to spank her. It brought the proceedings to a halt for a bit, what with the sound of the spanking and the little crying, ‘please stop Daddy’. No one complained, however. It was understood that such things had to be done. Some of the smaller inbetweeners seemed nervous, Chase thought. Later, after the dinner and the speeches were over, Chase had gone into the ladies restroom to freshen her make up. There she found the little being changed by Lyle’s personal assistant. She walked over, looking down at the little, laying on the change table, her puffy skirts pushed under her as the assistant cleaned her off. Her eyes were still puffy, and Chase could see the angry red on her raised bottom. “Poor thing,” Chase said. The assistant nodded as she looked to Chase. “Well, she promised to be good if she was brought along, so she should have been more careful.” She looked back to the little. “You were naughty, weren’t you Min?” “Yes Ma’am,” Min replied in a small squeaky voice that seemed more artifice than actual, which was a pity to Chase’s mind. “Min was naughty.” “Still,” the assistant said, turning her attention back to Chase, lowering her voice, “Mr Redmond was a little upset over getting turned down by Emily Black, again.” Chase did not like employees who gossiped about their employers, but as it was Lyle, she was willing to put that aside. “May I?” she asked, looking down at Min. “Of course.” Chase took over the position at the changing table, reached into the diaper bag for a tube of cream. She squirted some of it on her hands and then began to rub it into the girl’s soft skin. Min blushed and raised her hand to her mouth and began to suck her thumb. “Min’s shy,” the assistant said in a sing-song voice. Chase laughed as she wiped her hands and then sprinkled some baby powder over the girl’s diaper area. She lifted her bottom, pulling her up by her ankles, and slipped a new diaper under her. She skillfully taped it up and then patted the front of the thick diaper. “Little Min is all dry now.” “Say thank you Min.” Min slipped her thumb from her mouth and said, blushing, “Thank you for changing me.” “You’re welcome sweetie.” Letting the assistant take over she went to the sink and washed her hands, left the bathroom before Min and her caretaker. She found Richard and suggested they should go. Later, when they were in the car, she asked him, “Have you ever heard of Emily Black?” “Emily Black?” “Apparently she turned down Lyle, put him in a snit. Was wondering if she was some starlet or model.” Richard looked thoughtful. “I think there is a freelance IT specialist by that name. I could look into it.” Chase shook her head. “Just curious.” Later when Chase had returned to her apartment, she looked out her south-facing windows. They were the best views. To the South was a line of undeveloped and protected land and beyond that an old neighbourhood, with low, charming buildings. Nothing to spoil her view. She poured herself a shot of whisky and went to her computer. She did a search for Emily Black, added a few filter words. In a few minutes, she found a simple site for Emily Black. After looking through the website for a few minutes, she changed her opinion from simple to minimalist elegant. If she could hire this woman, she could rub it in Lyle’s face. But to even discuss that she would need to initiate contact. She clicked on the contact button and wrote an email. Emily woke early, went out for a quick jog along the empty streets, came back to her apartment and did some yoga. After finishing up, she showered and then had her breakfast. When she took a seat behind her computer, the area was waking up. She could hear the banging sound from Candy’s garage and knew that Gus would be working on his forge soon enough. All sounds she was used to. It was late in the morning when she read an email from Chase Morgan, asking for a check on her company’s security. She verified the email to make sure it was valid, then looked up Chase Morgan. A giant, an Amazon, but most of Emily's clientele were, and she tried to not hold it against them. She seemed a decent sort. No kids, real or otherwise. Always a good thing in her opinion. She was the CEO of a public relations/ advertising firm, one of the largest in the region. She was, Emily thought, looking at a picture, a striking woman. She looked at her calendar, decided she could fit in a basic scan later that day and sent an email to confirm the request. In the afternoon she started the work on the security audit, letting various programs she had written do the lion’s share of work. After dinner, she looked at the results, did some checking, and then put them aside to send off the next day. Chase read the report she had been sent, then cut away the preamble and the final suggestions before sending it to her IT manager. He came up to her office after lunch, holding a print out. He was about seven and a half feet tall, bit on the small side, but he was competent. “Where did you get this?” he asked her. “Any good?” He looked at the printout and then at her. “About half of it I knew about, problems we’re waiting on vendor patches for, but the other half, I missed that. No excuse.” “I’m not calling you on the carpet John, I just wanted to know what you thought. So it’s good?” “It’s excellent. Who did it?” “Emily Black. Heard of her?” “Yeah, if it is the same Emily Black. IT freelancer, near perfect.” “That sounds like her. What do you know?” “She’s been working for about three years, started small, built up a good reputation, now anyone in the know tries to hire her.” “Know anything else?” John shook his head. “I am thinking of hiring her, to do a full audit. If you are okay with that.” “That’s fine with me. But it is costly.” “How much?” “I hear she charges four thousand a day.” “That’s ridiculous.” “And yet people pay it. Apparently, she did one for Grantech two years ago. Found them over a hundred thousand in savings in the first year and plugged some holes that could have cost millions.” “I’ll have to think about it. If I go ahead with it, I will let you know.” “Thanks.” When he left Chase sat back in her chair. “Four thousand a day. Ridiculous.” Ten minutes later she was sending an email off requesting the audit. Emily went to see Linda after lunch. Linda was a seamstress who rented a large room on the second floor. She probably could have been working for any fashion house in the world, but the slim, bespectacled woman did not have the personality for such a job. She worked in the brightly lit room, surrounded by dressmaking dummies and shelves full of fabric. She made Emily a cup of tea, and they took a seat at a work table, Emily on a stool that gave her a bit of extra height, and talked about clothing. Someone knocked loudly at the door. “Just give me a minute Emily,” Linda said, getting up to go and answer the door. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Linda said, sounding a little nervous. “Weren’t you supposed to come here tomorrow?” “I know dear,” someone said, feminine, deep, a mixture that worried Emily as it usually meant a large woman. “However I had an opening in my schedule and was hoping you could measure the twins for those outfits we were talking about.” “Well, I suppose it is okay,” Linda told her guest, caving into the pressure, Emily thought, a little uncharitably as she took a drink of her tea. “Excellent.” The woman came into the room, and Emily got a good look at her. Probably eight and a half feet tall, smartly dressed, neatly bobbed blonde hair. She was holding (tightly) the hands of two girls, the ‘twins’ Emily supposed. They were probably related, but Emily did not think they were sisters, and she knew they were not actually children. The woman’s gaze fell on Emily. That look most giants had when they looked at a little, the one that was sizing them up for diapers; or at least that was what Emily thought when she was looked at like that. The woman looked to Linda who was following. “A customer?” she asked. “Just a neighbour ma’am,” Emily said politely. “Stopping off for a cup of tea.” The woman’s gaze did not waver until Linda said, “Perhaps you could get the girls’ clothing off?” The Amazon’s gaze left Emily and shifted to the littles with her. Both were dressed in identical denim rompers, white blouses, bottoms puffed out by diapers. Both were gagged by the pacifiers in their mouths. The Amazon set about stripping them down to vests and diapers. One of them looked towards Emily, her face flushing. Emily supposed she was still trying to fight against what was happening. The other one seemed unaware of Emily, or uncaring as if she had accepted her status. Emily knew that both of the ‘toddlers’ were littles, though the cotton vests and the thick diapers were doing an excellent job of hiding the subtle curves of a little. The woman, once she had each girl out of her clothing, made a big deal of checking their diapers, declaring both of them wet, and, after pulling back the diaper of the blushing one, that one of them had ‘made mommy a present’. A small part of Emily wanted to tell the woman to stop, to stand up for the littles, to tell her that they were not babies, but competent adults, or at least had been until the woman had got her paws on them. Of course, she did not. While she felt like a traitor for not doing so, she was not going to give that Amazon any reason to get angry at her. And she was careful about how much attention she paid to what was going on. If she ignored it, an Amazon might take that as shyness because maybe she had had an accident, and it was best that she check. It did not matter if you had not had an accident, and that you were not wearing diapers, giving an amazon and excuse to flip up your skirt or pull down your pants was a dangerous situation to be in. And she could not pay too much attention, in case that be taken as a desire to wear diapers also. She really wanted to leave but knew movement would attract attention. All right, perhaps she was paranoid but better safe than sorry. Linda measured the girls, putting the tape around their diapered bottoms. “They’ll always be wearing them,” the Amazon had said, “might as well include them.” Finally, Linda was done, and the Amazon was getting her charges dressed. Neither had spoken once, just sucked on their pacifiers as they had been measured. Emily could not help but shiver a little at that. “So, you’ll have the outfits ready in a week, with the extras?” Linda was looking at the paper pad she had taken notes on. She looked up and nodded. “Oh yes, not a problem. You will want the pink cotton?” “Yes, that will look nice.” The woman gave Emily one last look before Linda showed her out. Linda came back and poured Emily a fresh cup of tea. “Sorry about that.” “What did she mean by extras?” “Oh, that, well,” she paused, “she wants several outfits with straps, to restrict the movement of the arms and legs.” Emily’s eyes widened slightly. “So they will have to crawl?” “Yes,” Linda nodded. “That is why.” “That’s terrible,” Emily said before she could stop herself. “Oh Emily, don’t be silly. Sometimes it is just easier to take care of babies when they are crawling.” Emily wanted to say that they were not babies, that they were women, but as always she did not. The message would not get through. And more than once her angry statements had been described as ‘cranky’ or a ‘tantrum’ and those were words she did not want people associating with her. “Candy said you had some green fabric that would look good on me.” “Oh, I do. What are you thinking?” “A slinky, sexy pencil skirt with a tight white blouse.” “That will look wonderful on you.” She grabbed her measuring tape. “Let me get your numbers.” As she was being measured Emily thought she caught a faint diaper smell on the tape as it passed close to her face. Chase looked at the email she had received back. Damn, John had been right. Four thousand dollars a day, maximum charge of forty thousand dollars, and a flat sixteen thousand offer. Emily Black was suggesting Chase go with the daily rate, saying she could probably get it done in two days. “To hell with that,” Chase said as she replied to the email, indicating she would take the sixteen thousand deal. Two days later Chase received a full report back. She swore quietly for a good two minutes, then sent the report to John and set about writing an email. Dear Miss Black, Thank you very much for your hard and prompt work. I was hoping that we might meet, or at least talk on the phone, to discuss a possible position for you with my company. We are both women of the world so I will get right down to the facts. The fact is that I want to teach Lyle Redmond a lesson, and I can’t think of anything better than hiring you. Petty? Perhaps, but in all honesty, I can’t help but think of all the benefits my company would have were you to come and work for me. And I believe you would benefit as well. Please give my request some consideration. Thank you, She looked the email over and then sent it off. Up on her balcony, Emily watched a giant man get out of an SUV. From the rear seat, he brought out a small figure. Girl, boy, child or little, she could not tell. She guessed that he was going to Linda’s apartment. It looked like Linda was gaining some popularity for her ‘children’s’ clothing. Emily was glad for her friend, but at the same time, she would have preferred less of the larger people around. After finishing her tea Emily went back into her apartment, climbing up on her chair, taking a look at her computer. She had a new email, from Chase. She was not surprised to get a job offer, that happened fairly often. She was a little surprised as to the ultimate reason. And she was inordinately pleased to be called a woman of the world by an Amazon. That alone made her consider the offer for a moment, but she immediately discarded the thought. She was pretty confident if they were to meet Chase’s ‘woman of the world’ comment would be forgotten. She wrote her canned reply, thanking her for the offer and regretfully declining. She did add an extra line, agreeing that Lyle was quite dogged in the pursuit of what he wanted and how it made him a challenge to deal with. It was the closest she would come to criticising one client to another. She sent the email and went back to work. “Son of a bitch,” Chase said, louder than she intended when she read Emily Black’s reply. “Something up?” Richard asked from the other side of the desk. “Oh,” she said, cheeks growing a little warm. “I offered Emily Black a job, and she just shot me down. It is a little annoying.” “You trying to show up Lyle?” “Guilty as charged.” “Probably see why he was upset.” She nodded. “I suppose if I was caring for a little right now I might ending up spanking her a little harder than required.” “You ready for the meeting?” he asked. “Yeah.” She grabbed a file folder. “I need to get Lisa to print something out for me. Go ahead.” He stood up. “See you soon.” She nodded and got up from behind her desk. Lisa, her assistant, an eight-foot-tall woman, was working at her desk. “Lisa, I need a colour print out of the GBB file.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” she said with a smile, turning to her computer. “Bring it down to meeting room three when it is done.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” She turned to go, then paused and looked back at her. “Lisa, I have something I would like you to work on, as you have time.” “Yes Miss Morgan?” “Get me a list of the top ten percent of all female graduates from,” she paused, “the top fifty colleges and universities in the country.” Lisa seemed confused by the request, but she nodded. “When do you want it by?” “No rush. Just work on it as you have time.” “Understood.” Over several days both Emily and Chase were busy with work, and both had put the other out of their minds. Chase was dealing with several product launches, while Emily had been hired to help finish the CGI for several scenes in a movie. It was Chase who was the first to turn her attention back to the other when Lisa sent her an email with an attached file. The email’s subject was, ‘The Information you wanted’ and the body referenced the conversation they had had several days before. She wanted to open the file immediately, but Richard was calling her. They had clients to meet. In fact, she was busy the entire day and did not get a chance to open the file at all. Finally, back at home, she printed off the document, took a seat on her balcony, a glass of wine at her side, and read through the report. She found an Elizabeth Black, honours graduate in literature. Next was an Amy Black, graduate in engineering, near the bottom of the ten percent that Chase had indicated the cutoff. Near the middle of the report, in a list of graduates from the Women’s Institute of Applied Technology, she found an Aemilia Black, honours computers. Top of her graduating class, top of the entire school, four years ago. “Bingo,” Chase said happily. Then she told herself to take it easy. She would look through the entire list, just to be sure. There was an Emmiline Black, another graduate in computer studies, but again low in the placings, and from a small school. She’d check them all, but she had a good feeling about Aemilia. Sharky’s was busy. Emily, having finished several projects, had felt like celebrating. She had put the word out and was buying drinks. Most of the residents of the apartment building were there, as well as some of the people who worked in local businesses. Gus laughed as he tossed back a mug of beer. “You are a prince among men,” he told her. “Thank you,” Emily said from her stool and then, “I think.” “What he means,” Candy said, draping an arm across her shoulders, “is that everyone loves the woman buying the booze.” Emily smiled as behind the bar Sharky filled several more mugs with various beers. “They all drink when someone else is paying.” Linda walked over a tall glass of scotch and soda in her hand. “How about I pay for the next round?” “You got the scratch?” Candy asked her. Linda blushed under Candy’s scrutiny. “I’ve got some more business lately, and tips.” Her eyes went wide. “Generous tips.” “All those giants?” Linda nodded. Emily was not happy about Linda’s new clientele, but she wanted to be happy for her friend’s success. “If you are feeling generous I’ll happily drink to your triumph.” The gathering went on well into the night, and Emily and Linda stumbled back to their building, escorted by the surprisingly sober Gus. It was a good night. Chase had ordered online copies of yearbooks and alumni listings. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she sat down and began to look through them. Elizabeth Black, a muddy haired brunette who was working on her doctorate in romantic poetry. She crossed Elizabeth off her list. Amy Black, and inbetweener working for an overseas resource development company. Another name crossed off. Aemilia Black was a little, and Chase triple checked the names and information, sure that no little could have graduated top of her class, but no, there it was. She looked at the adorable blonde, wearing her university smock and uniform (only sensible to put littles in school uniforms). She could not quite accept that Emily Black could be a little. She started to cross the name off, but her pen stopped halfway through Aemilia. She would think about that one. Emmiline Black should have been the one, she was a tall Amazon, but when Chase read the notes on alumni, she gave up on it. Amazon or not, Emmiline was not the brilliant computer specialist that Emily was. She went back to Aemilia and read up on the details about the girl. Top of her class all four years. Got a gold star each year for potty use. Gold star each year for keeping her dorm bed dry. Surprising for a little, Chase thought. Never officially spanked. Top of her class, but she had not been the class valedictorian. Well, of course, a little could never stand up in front of a graduating class and the guests to make a speech. Even assuming the shy thing did not start crying the staff would probably have to stop the speech so she could run off to potty. Chase took a look through the notes about alumni, but it was like Aemilia had dropped off the face of the earth right after she graduated. It was always possible she was in a nursery somewhere, but something about the determined gaze in her yearbook picture made Chase think just maybe that Emily and Aemilia were one in the same. As ridiculous as that notion should be. She called Lisa into her office. “Lisa, find me the name of a good private investigator would you.” “Of course Miss Morgan.” Emily found a pair of Amazons in front of her building, one of them holding a leash attached to a baby harness that a little was wearing, the other pushing with a stroller--the occupant might have been a real child, she was not sure. As soon as she saw them, she was ready to duck away, but the one with the stroller saw her and said, “You girl.” Emily knew that running would only invite chasing, and the long legs of the Amazon gave her a distinct advantage if it came down to a chase. “Yes ma’am,” she said politely. Both women regarded her, as did the little on the end of the leash. The little on the leash looked positively gleeful, and Emily was sure the leashed girl was hoping that someone else was going to join her in enforced toddlerhood. The little fink, Emily thought, though it was an uncharitable thought. “We are looking for a tailor, named Linda Corda.” “She is on the second floor of this building ma’am. Apartment 201.” “This building?” the woman holding the leash asked. It was on her tongue to reply in a snotty manner, ‘yes, this building,’ but she did not. It was not easy to answer politely, “Yes ma’am.” Sure the place looked like it was a dump, but it was structurally sound and was much nicer on the inside. Don’t judge a book by its cover you cow, she thought. They both looked away from Emily and to the building, then the one with the stroller looked back to Emily. “Do you live here?” “No ma’am. Over there,” she said, pointing at the building that Candy worked out of. She did not want them asking her to escort them in. “Well, then you better go. You should not be alone out on the street.” “Yes ma’am,” she said, noting the look of disappointment that flashed across the face of the leashed little, apparently upset that Emily was not about to join her. You really are a fink. She turned and walked quickly to the garage, opening the door and entering, letting out the breath she had been holding. That had felt close. There was a banging sound coming from within, and she followed it to Candy’s work area. She was leaning into the engine compartment of a large muscle car, an old one, pounding away on something. “What are you doing Candy?” Emily called over the noise. The banging stopped. Candy lifted herself out from under the hood, looked back at her. “Hey, Emily. Just trying to get a cylinder to move, hoping it’s not seized up.” “This is a car for a giant, right?” Candy nodded. “You’d have to be at least seven feet tall to reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel. Come and take a look at the engine, it’s huge.” Emily used a stool to climb up and look, getting some grease on her bare knees (she as wearing shorts) and hands. The engine was indeed massive. “Seems a lot more of the larger types around these days,” Emily said. “Really? I didn’t really notice.” “Well, they are mostly coming to get Linda to make them clothing.” “Yeah, I’m glad that Linda is doing well. You get her to make you something?” “Skirt and blouse.” “Wear them to Sharky’s some time so I can see.” “Will do.” And Emily passed the time with Candy until the two Amazon women left and she could get back into her building without being hassled. Emily got busy over the following week, several high paying projects were offered to her. She spent most of the week working or sleeping, and ordered a lot of takeout, having no time to cook. When she finally finished, she ended up crashing, sleeping almost fourteen hours straight. Quite possibly she would have slept even longer had not the incessant buzzing of her doorbell woken her. She rolled out of her bed, hit the floor in a tangle of blankets, which padded her fall, and reached for a fallen pillow which she pulled over her head. Still, the doorbell buzzed. Crawling from the nest of blankets she got to her feet and stumbled sleepily towards her front door. Tired as she was she almost opened it without checking the monitor, but it was an ingrained habit, and she looked down at the screen as her hand reached for the deadbolt. Her hand stopped. Standing outside of her apartment was an Amazon and not just any Amazon, but Chase Morgan. She backed away from the door, eyes locked on the monitor. How long had she been standing out there, ringing the doorbell? Why was she standing out there, ringing her doorbell? Was she there for her? Emily wondered. Impossible, she thought. Her mind bounced around, seeking a reason. She could be there for Linda. And had gotten the wrong floor. And had stood out there on the wrong floor, looking at the number, 403, ringing the doorbell and not realising she was on the wrong floor. She would have to be pretty stupid. That she was stupid seemed unlikely. She stopped ringing the doorbell. Thank god. She started knocking, pounding on the door. Oh god! It was a nightmare. That Amazon as going to break in, and she had been asleep for more than twelve hours, and she had to pee really badly. She was going to be caught by an Amazon while she was pissing herself. It could not be worse. Then her more logical mind put a cap on the panic. Chase was not going to break through that door. And she could go the washroom. So she did. When she was finished, Chase had gone. She went out on the balcony, peeking out. There was a big, black SUV out there. She snuck back in. All she had to do was wait. Eventually, she heard the car start up, peeked out to see it drive away. “I won,” she said softly. Relaxing, she showered and then had her breakfast. She was just reading her email when her doorbell rang. The bagel in her hand nearly went flying. She was back! Checking the monitor she saw that it was not Chase Morgan at her door, but Linda. She opened her door. “Hi, Linda.” “Good morning Emily. I finished your outfit.” She held out a white cardboard box tied with a blue string. On top of it where a pair of black slippers. “Great,” Emily told her, taking the parcel. “Let me try it on for you.” “Thank you,” Linda said as she closed the door behind her. Emily went to her bedroom, stripped off her shorts and top and opened the box. She took out the panties and the bra first. Leave it to Linda to leave nothing unthought of. She put them on, then the silk blouse and the sheer white stockings. Slipping into the pencil skirt she did up the fastener. Not looking into the mirror she went out, to let Linda see the effect first. “You look great,” Linda said. “Sexy.” Now Emily took the time to look at herself. She had little in the way of curves, but Linda’s tailoring made the most of what little there was, drew attention to the very slight flare of her hips, focused on her slim neck, which helped draw attention away from her almost complete lack of breasts. “This is amazing.” Linda was smiling. “You never asked for sexy before.” “I’ll be asking for it more,” Emily told her as she posed in front of the mirror. “Oh, I was asked to give you this.” Emily turned, saw Linda holding a card. She took it. The embossed card spelt out ‘Chase Morgan’ and had a telephone number. “She asked that you call her, about a job.” Emily swallowed. “Thank you,” she said. “She seems nice. I was surprised, you usually don’t have any clients come here.” Keeping calm, not wanting to try to explain things to Linda (who would not understand) she said, “Miss Morgan is a special case.” “She seems nice. I showed her the outfit I made for you. She was quite interested in it.” “That’s nice.” Chase had to know she was a little now. “She asked me to make a few child style outfits, paid in advance, asked for the best materials, just like you.” “Oh?” Emily asked. “Did she have someone with her?” “No, but she said that they were for someone your size. Maybe you can be my model for them.” “What? No.” “I’m just joking,” Linda said with a laugh. “I’ll make something that fits a general size. If required I can let them out or take them in.” “Yes, of course,” Emily said. She looked at her watch. “I have to run. You really look great in that.” “Thanks. Maybe I’ll come by tomorrow to talk about a few other outfits. If you are not too busy?” Which was Emily’s way of making sure there would not be too many giants around. “Tomorrow should be good. See you later.” Once she was gone, Emily went and locked her door. She looked at the card, then ripped it up and dropped the pieces in the garbage. “Just leave me alone,” she told the torn up paper. The next time Emily heard Chase’s name was when she was down at Gus’s office, helping him with an issue with his internet connection. “Just need to reset the modem and the router, and you should be back up,” she told him. Gus laughed. “You know me, if I can’t hit it with a hammer, it is beyond me.” Emily shook her head and then tested his connection. “You are back up.” “You are a lifesaver. I am glad we have a computer expert in the building. That reminds me.” He went into his desk drawer and pulled out a card. “I was asked to give this to you.” With a sinking feeling, she took the card. ‘Chase Morgan’ was written on it. “She asked me to give you that card if I saw you.” “Why was she here?” Emily asked, her tone a little strident, apparently surprising Gus as his eyebrows rose. “I mean,” she let her tone shift back to normal, “why did she come to talk to a blacksmith?” “She as asking about some ironworks for her office lobby,” Gus told her with a smile. “She wants something unique.” “Well, your work is great, so I’m not surprised.” His smile grew wider. “Thanks. Got to admit, thought it was weird. I’ve never seen one of your clients come here before.” “Special case,” Emily said while thinking, ‘head case’. She was not even to be left alone in Candy’s garage. The big engines had interested her, so she made time to come by and watch Candy work. Candy joked about Emily becoming her apprentice. “Get me the torque wrench will you Emily. The metric one.” Emily had been perched up on a step ladder, looking down into the engine that Candy was taking apart. She jumped down and get the wrench. Candy looked at it and nodded. “Good eye my apprentice.” Emily smiled. “So you really want to learn engines?” Emily leaned in. “I need something to fall back on in case this computer thing turns out to be a passing fad.” Candy laughed, gave the bolt she as working on a twist. “That reminds me. I was asked to give you…” “Oh no.” “What?” a surprised Candy asked. “Nothing. Just remembered something.” Candy nodded after a moment, then walked over to one of her workbenches. She came back with an oil-stained business card. Emily took it with a nod. “Thank you.” “She seemed like a nice lady. Said she might have me restore an old war motorcycle she has, one of the big Valkyries the giants rode. Can you imagine the engine that thing will have? The history.” “I can imagine it.” “Going to start having more of your clients come by.” “I don’t think so,” Emily said with a shake of her head. “Miss Morgan is special.” A few days passed with no more cards left from Chase, and Emily was considering that just maybe the Amazon had given up. Early afternoon she had put on the outfit that Linda had made for her. There was only one place she could go dressed in such a manner, so she went to Sharky’s to have a drink. It was empty, so there was no one to show off to. She perched on her customary bar stool, with her gin and tonic, and wondered if she should move. Sharky put his newspaper aside, go to his feet, and a moment later said, “Don’t see many of your type in here.” Later she figured that Sharky had heard the sound of her footsteps, but at that time it was just one more fantastic thing about the man. “I can’t imagine why.” The voice was deep, feminine and sarcastic. It cannot be, Emily thought, slowly turning her head to look behind. It was like being in a horror movie, and a small part of her was yelling at the back of her mind, ‘don’t look, it’s not real if you don’t look.’ Of course, she looked. Chase Morgan stood there, dressed in a smart suit of a green material, almost the exact same shade as Emily’s skirt. She smiled at Emily. Emily almost said, ‘Grandma, what big teeth you have,’ but she bit down on the words, and turned back to her drink, trying to pretend she had no idea who the Amazon was. She wanted to run, but the pencil skirt, while giving an illusion of length to her legs, was not meant for running. Likely she would end up face first on the dirty bar’s floor. Chase leaned up against the bar (it was not like she could sit on the stool) beside Emily and said, “I’ll take what she is having.” Sharky made another gin and tonic and put it down in front of Chase. Then he went back to his chair and picked up his newspaper. “Why…” Chase said. “I like the smell of ink,” Sharky told her. Emily could not help but giggle. Stupid, stupid, she told herself. Don’t bait the bear. Chase picked up the glass that had been put in front of her and took a drink. “Gin?” she said to Emily. Not able to ignore her Emily decided not to say, ‘you think I should be drinking milk’ but instead said, “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” “Oh,” Chase took another drink. “Is that your bedtime?” It was, Emily admitted, a clever rejoinder. Instead of acknowledging that she said, “Happy hour.” “Ah, yes.” Chase drank, and Emily drank, and they did not speak again, and Emily kept hunching her shoulders up, sure something was going to happen. Chase put her empty glass down on the bar with a ‘clack’. Emily jumped a little. Chase put several bills on the bar. “I’ll pay for her drink as well,” she said. And then she left. She just left. Why had she just left? That made no sense to Emily. Maybe it was time to find out just what Chase Morgan wanted because she was acting in a way that did not make sense to Emily. Sharky gathered the money off the bar, sorted it and put it in the old cash register. “Minus my tip, if she is covering your drinks, you could drink all night.” Or maybe she would just put it off and hope Chase never came back. “Well, give me another,” Emily told Sharky. Chase got into her car. She took a deep breath. “No one should be allowed to be that adorable,” she said aloud. “And littles should not look so good dressed like that.” She admired Linda’s work, hoped that the tailor's more childish work would be equally effective. She looked out her car window, at the old bar, with the dusty windows. She wanted to go back in there, pick that little up, and take her away. No one would say anything. She could have Emily in one of the automated daycares, or send her to one of the more personal training schools by tomorrow morning. Soon she would be just another helpless little, her cute tiny tush padded out by a thick diaper. But, strangely enough, Chase did not quite feel like that was what she wanted. Of course, Emily needed to be taken care of. There was no doubt about that. And the best way to take care of a little was just to treat them like small children. That was a known fact. But she was too much a businesswoman to discount the girl’s abilities. “This is going to be tricky,” she said as she started up her car and drove away. Emily had a hangover the next day. It made the morning start slow and rough. When someone pounded on her front door, it went right through her head. She looked at the monitor. Saw it was Gus. She opened the door. “What?” She did a lousy job keeping her tone civil. He was holding a letter. He reached up and removed an envelope taped to her door. “Read.” She looked at the envelope. The name in the upper right corner was ‘West Management.’ Her name was typed in the centre. She tore it open, scanned the contents. “They going to turn this place into condos,” Gus said. Emily shook her head. “They are only saying they are doing an assessment.” “Which means they are going to turn it into condos, or even just make a handful of improvements and raise the rent.” Emily could not deny the possibility. “Look, we’re getting together at Sharky’s later today, to talk this out. Can you see what you can find out about this West Management place?” Emily nodded. “I will.” “Thanks,” Gus said, then left. She closed the door and then went to get some aspirin. Emily sat in Sharky’s, listening to everyone talk. Everyone was upset. Linda, who knew she would never find another place like her apartment again, sounded near tears. Gus, who was going to have a hard time setting up a new forge, even if he could find a place where it was zoned to allow it was angry. Nestor, Grace, James, Fred and Tony, all people who lived in the building and could not afford a rent increase. Candy and others from other buildings in the area were there as well because if it happened to one building, it would happen to all of them, eventually, or so they thought. Emily had told them almost all of what she had found out about West Management. A wealth management company, handling investments for people, for various tax benefits. She had told them it was possible if West Management did an assessment of the building they might do nothing, or perhaps just sell it again. What she did not tell them was that West Management was owned by Chase Morgan and that her arranging to have the building bought was likely a ploy against Emily. She did not tell them that because it would sound crazy. Eventually, the impromptu meeting changed to people drinking to drown their sorrows. Emily, still too fresh off her morning hangover, left. When she reached her apartment, she found another envelope taped to her door. She took it down. In it was a page that read, ‘Call me.’ And there was a phone number. Only one person that it could be from. She went into her apartment, locked the door behind her, and went to make a call on the phone she hardly ever used. “Hello Emily,” Chase said as soon as she answered. “Hello Miss Morgan,” she said, defaulting to polite. “A pleasure to hear your sweet voice, my dear.” Emily took a deep breath. “You seemed determined to speak with me,” Emily said. “You upset a lot of good people, Miss Morgan.” “Perhaps if you had just answered your door or called me it would not have come to this,” Chase told her. “Had you handled this in a slightly more mature manner…” “Why did you have to bring all my friends into this?” “Because they all like you, and I assume you must like them.” Emily realised she was gritting her teeth. She relaxed her jaw and said. “Of course I like them.” “Then you would want to help them, wouldn’t you sweetie?” No other option. “Yes.” “Such a good girl.” An oh so condescending tone. “Seeing as you have not handled this in the most adult of manners, I think I will dictate the terms. Come by my office tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it.” “Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly,” Emily said before she could stop herself. Chase laughed. “I promise not to bite, though wrapping you up in silk is not an impossibility.” “I’ll be there. What time Miss Morgan?” “Ten in the morning. And Linda finished the outfits I commissioned. I would like you to bring them with you.” “I would be happy to.” It seemed a little thing. “And perhaps you might model one for me. Not that you did not look nice in that outfit you wore yesterday, but I think something a little more suited for the tone I want to set for our business. Number three would be the best choice.” “Pardon?” “You’ll understand when you pick them up. I will see you tomorrow.” Emily was careful not to sigh. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up. Emily carefully paced the handset in its cradle, then went into her bedroom, pulled her covers over her head and then screamed into her pillow for several minutes. Finally, she sat up, tossed the covers aside and then flopped backwards among them. “Damn you,” she said quietly. She got up from the bed and went back down to Sharky’s. Linda, usually not a big drinker, seemed happy enough to leave with Emily to get the outfits. There were five boxes, wrapped in paper, tied with strings, each numbered. Seeing the ‘3’ written on one filled in the missing the information.” “Do you really think we’ll be able to stay here?” Linda asked her. Emily looked from the boxes to Linda. She was standing near the wall of windows, looking out. She looked wistful. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m not sure what I will do. This much room. This much light. Near people like Nestor who handles the leatherwork.” She shook her head. Emily wanted to assure her that everything would be alright, but she could not. And she knew she would be at Chase’s office the next day. Running away was not an option. Number three was a white, empire waist dress, with short sleeves, a sailor collar and pleats in the short skirt (but not too short, thankfully). There was black and red piping around the hem of the dress and the ends of the sleeves. As was Linda’s signature, she had included a pair of shoes (red maryjanes) and a small patent leather purse. The leather was probably Nestor’s work. Tony had likely made the shoes. They were, she thought, a surprisingly self-sufficient group of people. And undergarments had not been left out. A white cotton vest, thick white cotton tights, some petticoats, and a pair of voluminous panties of thick white cotton, embroidered with little black anchors. She had held the panties out and thought they barely stepped above training panties, but she supposed that step, as minuscule as it was, was significant. Dressing in the morning, Emily quickly noticed the vest and the loose panties with tight (almost uncomfortable) waist and leg bands removed any curves. And the lines of the dress drew attention to what she did not have. As always, Linda’s work was impressive. She stood out on her sidewalk, the boxes beside her, in her red shoes, holding her little patent leather purse. She hoped none of her neighbours saw her. The cab she had called for pulled up to the curb in front of her. The driver, an inbetweener about six feet and some inches looked down at her. “Your mother around kiddo?” Emily wanted to scream. “I called you,” she said. “You?” he looked doubtful. Emily opened her purse, took out a small bundle of bills. “There is a big tip in it for you.” Money talked, she thought. He helped her put the boxes in the trunk (which is to say he took the boxes and put them in the trunk) and then took a booster seat from it, placing it in the back seat. “Wish you had said something when you called, would have preferred a car seat.” Emily did not say anything and did not argue against the booster seat (though she would have preferred to do without it). He helped her into it, not even asking her, and then put the seatbelt on her. Emily accepted it, saving her energy for fights that mattered. The driver took her across the undeveloped land and into the city. Chase Morgan’s company was large enough to have its own building near the centre of the city, a twenty-five story tower sized for giants. She looked up at the silver steel and black glass of the building as the cab driver pulled up in front of it. It looked impressive. It had been years since she had last been in a city with such buildings, and she had gotten used to the less intimidating architecture of her home. The driver helped her out of the car, and while he got the packages from the trunk, she pulled his fee and the promised, generous tip from her purse. They exchanged parcels for money, and then the cab driver drove off. Balancing the boxes, she walked towards the front doors of the Morgan Tower. She was really out of place. There was not a single other little she could see in the area, and not too many inbetweeners either. Having gone so long avoiding such situations her mind was screaming warnings, telling her to run, but she pushed back her shoulders and walked straight to the door. She supposed that Chase had done her a favour, having her dress like this. It made her look like she was being cared for. It was protective colouring, a warning to other giants to back off, ‘this little is mine, and I have the money to see her properly attired’. God, she hated giants. No one accosted her, and the doors opened automatically for her as she approached. The lobby was, in her opinion, pointlessly large, and scaled for people seven feet plus. The two women sitting at the receptionist desk had to be at least seven and a half feet each, probably closer to eight, and Emily would not have been able to see over the desktop if she stood too close. Of course, the women noticed her. The blonde on the right leaned over the desk. “Well, hello sweetheart. Are you lost?” It was, Emily thought, intimidating to be dressed as she was. Careful to keep her voice even she said, “My name is Emily Black. I am here to see Miss Chase Morgan.” “Oh sweetie, Miss Morgan is too busy to buy any cookies from you.” “Cookies?” Oh, the boxes. “I’m delivering these for her,” she said and winced at how stupid she sounded. “Now sweetie..” The other receptionist, a brunette, tapped her companion on the arm, pointed to the computer screen. “Really?” the blonde said. “It’s right here,” the brunette told her. “Sorry sweetie, I didn’t realise you had an appointment.” “Yes.” The blonde clapped her hands together. “Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.” She came around the desk. “Let me show you there.” Emily was glad her hands were full of the boxes as it avoided having to take the blonde’s hand. She was led to the elevators, and she supposed it was a good thing the blonde had come with her or she would be jumping up to try to hit the elevator buttons. “Be good sweetie,” the blonde said, pressing the button for the twenty-third floor and then stepping out. The brunette had probably called up for when the elevator doors opened Chase Morgan stood there, wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously like the one that Emily had been wearing when they had first met at Sharky’s. Of course, Chase needed no artifice to show off her curves. It was done on purpose for it made Emily feel even more childish in her sailor dress. “Here, let me take those,” she said, taking the boxes from Emily. “Just a moment and hold still. Let me look at you.” She looked Emily up and down. “Linda does wonderful work.” Emily felt her face grow warm and tried to force the feelings of embarrassment down. “Come on Emily,” Chase said, turning and walking away, expecting Emily to follow obediently along. That Emily had no choice but to follow obediently along made it so much worse. There was not, thankfully, anyone in the hallway. Emily took a quick look around, it looked like the office suites on this floor were large, which meant less staff. When they entered one of those suites Chase said, “Lisa, this is Emily Black.” “That’s Emily Black?” Lisa (who Emily guessed was a secretary) asked incredulously. Emily bit back a rude reply. “Yes,” Chase told her, tone firm. “I’m sorry,” Lisa said. Emily thought she was apologising to Chase, but she supposed that it might be possible that the apology was meant for Emily herself. Possible but not likely. “Emily, this is Lisa Smith, my personal assistant.” “Miss Smith,” Emily said, one more falling back on politeness. “Lisa, go and find a booster seat for Emily.” “Of course Miss Morgan,” Lisa said and hustled from the office. Emily felt her cheeks warming at the thought of Lisa looking for a booster seat, perhaps saying, ‘it is for a little Miss Morgan has up in her office, maybe I should bring a changing pad as well, just in case’. Why couldn’t Chase have had the stupid booster seat there to begin with? She had known Emily was coming. “This way,” Chase said, entering her office. It was large, even considering its occupant, with a big desk set near a wall of windows. She would need a booster seat to see over that. “While we are waiting,” Chase said, and took the dress boxes over to her desk, placing them down. She used what Emily hoped was a paper cutter to cut the strings and then carefully unwrapped the first box and opened it. “Look at this,” she said to Emily, lifting out and holding up a short sleeved, pink princess dress. “Very nice,” Emily said with no real enthusiasm, for she guessed were she to wear that that the skirt would not cover up whatever undergarment she might be wearing. “Yes, it is,” Chase said, and carefully put it back into the box before opening the next one. “How sweet,” Chase said for the next one, a white and blue romper. Chase made sure to draw Emily’s attention to the snaps in the crotch. The third was a set of several shorts and blouses, all of the shorts with suspender straps and snaps in the crotches as well. Chase was showing off the last, a white dress with ruffles and lace that looked like something a toddler might wear to church when Lisa returned with the booster seat. “Oh, that is just so cute,” she gushed, and then looked towards Emily, “I want to see her in it,” she said, hungrily (or at least that is not how Emily heard it). “I’m not sure this is Emily’s,” Chase said as she put the dress back in the box. “The seat.” Lisa put the booster seat on one of the chairs in front of the desk. She then, without asking, picked up Emily and put her in place. “There you go,” she said. Emily never liked being grabbed by Amazons, but she managed a weak ‘thank you’, telling herself she might have actually needed a little help. Lisa left as Chase took a seat behind her desk. “So here we are,” Chase said. “So here we are,” Emily echoed. “I appreciate you coming.” “I did not feel if I had a choice.” Chase smiled. “You always have a choice.” “You might.” Chase frowned for a moment. “I want you to work for me.” “And what would I do Miss Morgan?” “I have not decided yet. I am sure we can find a position for you.” The position that Emily thought of was back on a change table, legs raised, but she did not say that. “And if I am not interested.” Chase did not answer immediately. Eventually, she said, “While I don’t want to seem like some cheap movie villain, your neighbours might not appreciate it.” Emily wanted to swear at her but kept her temper in check. “That does not seem to leave me much choice.” “Because you are such a nice girl.” If you could read my thoughts you would not think so, she thought, but said, “You are very kind.” “So, you will come and work for me?” “How much will I be paid?” Chase frowned, and Emily wondered if she had even thought of that. “You will be fairly compensated for your skill set,” she finally said. Which, Emily thought, could easily translate into all the diaper changes she needed. “What project are you bringing me on for?” Again Chase frowned, and Emily wondered if she was pushing too far, but what else could she do? “I will have you work in various areas of the business until we have found the best fit for you, and that is all I can say.” There was a sense of finality to that, and Emily knew she should not ask any more questions. “I want to think about it.” “What is there to think about?” “The commute,” Emily said tartly, knowing it was dangerous. It was a gamble, One that apparently paid off for Chase smiled. “Very well, but make your choice fast.” Emily slipped down from the booster chair, she felt her skirt, and the petticoats catch and get pulled up behind her, for a moment leaving her with her the back of her panties uncovered. No one could see it, but she knew it and could feel the cool air of the room on the top of her bare thighs. She quickly smoothed the skirt down over her bottom. Chase came around her desk, looked down at her. “That is my dress you know.” She smiled. “Pardon?” Emily asked. “You don’t seem to have brought a change of clothing.” Emily's eyes widened. Was she about to be stripped and sent away? A naked little, around so many giants? It was like throwing blood in the water with sharks. Chase put her hand on top of Emily’s head, gently ruffled her short hair. “Tell you what, I will give it to you as a gift.” “Thank you,” Emily said, relieved, and embarrassed at how grateful she was at that moment. “Is that a way to thank someone?” She took her hand from Emily’s head. Emily looked up at her, saw a displeased look on her face. “Thank you for the beautiful dress, Miss Morgan.” “In the future, you might want to add how much you love it.” Then she walked to her office door and opened it. “Lisa.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” Lisa said. “Please see Emily down to the street, and make sure she gets into a taxi.” “Pardon?” Lisa asked, surprise in her tone. When she stepped into Emily’s view, Emily could see the surprise mirrored on her face. “See that she gets into a taxi, make sure no one bothers her,” Chase said, tone firm. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” She nodded. “Emily, please come this way.” “I hope to hear from you soon Emily,” Chase said. “Yes Miss Morgan,” Emily said, getting out of the office as quick as she could. Lisa took her down to the lobby, and out onto the street. All the time Emily was sure Lisa was wondering why Chase was sending Emily away. Emily was not entirely certain herself. A black taxi pulled up in front of the building a few seconds before they reached the sidewalk. The driver got out, a tall inbetweener man, maybe almost seven feet tall. He looked at them and said, “Got a call to pick up an Emily Black?” “This is her,” Lisa said. The driver opened the passenger compartment door. A little-sized child’s seat awaited her. I hate you, Chase, Emily thought. Lisa picked her up, plopped her into the seat. The driver, with speed that spoke of skill, had the straps around her shoulders, and one up between her legs, the nylon edge of the belt against her bare thighs. There was a click as the buckles snapped together, and he gave the straps a quick, gentle pull that had her secured. The door closed. She heard Lisa say, “Bye bye sweetie.” Emily tried to undo the straps, but the buckles were somehow locked. When the driver got in, she said, “I am going to…” “I know where you are going,” he said. There was something ominous about that. The driver started the car and drove off. The seat had blocks of padded plastic on either side of her head, and she could not see past them. The straps were too tight for her to lean forward so she might look around them, and the seat was angled so she could not really see where they were going. They could be going anywhere. Chase had called for the taxi, told it where to go, Emily thought. Would she be driven to one of those schools she had heard of? Would the driver keep driving around until she wet herself and only then pull up to their destination? After years of working to avoid just this situation, she had walked into it. She tried to talk to the driver, to at least get an idea of what was going to happen, but he told her that he had to pay attention to the road and refused to be engaged. She lost track of time, almost panicking and when the car came to a stop, she had to bite down on a scream. The driver got out of the car. A few seconds later he had opened the passenger door. Reaching in, he loosened the straps, undid the buckles and smoothly lifted her from the seat and placed her on the ground. She was outside of her apartment building. “Have a nice day miss,” the driver said, leaving her there. He did not ask to be paid. Emily had to take a few deep breaths. Her knees felt weak. As the car pulled away, she walked slowly towards the doors of the building. Back in her apartment, changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Emily was able to relax slightly. She was still feeling a little panicked, and she was not happy, but she could think things through. She looked at the dress she had been wearing, in a pile on the floor. For a moment she thought to throw it out. However, she suspected treating a ‘gift’ poorly might come back and bite her in the ass. Plus she couldn’t bring herself to throw away something that Linda had made. She gathered it up and hung it in the closet, tossed the rest, panties, vest and stockings into her laundry hamper, then went to her computer. Think, she told herself. How did she get out of this? The panic in the taxi had almost sent her running. She had been looking for plane tickets, but she could not leave her friends behind, to be turned out of their homes by an angry Chase. Think, she once again told herself. If Chase did not own the building, then she would have no leverage. And Chase did not really own the building. Her investment management company did. That was the weak point. So she researched it. The trick was, she realised, to make the building seem unprofitable to the managers and, more importantly, their software. And she knew the software, had helped to write it, knew how to exploit it. As long as Chase had not directly instructed her managers to hold onto the building, it was possible. And Chase did not respect her; not as much as she should. She continued her research. She checked her finances. Four weeks. Maybe a day or two less, but four weeks. If it was even possible, she could do it in four weeks. She just had to stay out of diapers for four weeks. She stayed out of them (at least needing them) for four years in college. For twelve years before that in school. Four weeks would be a cakewalk she tried to tell herself. Emily did not really believe it. Chase Morgan was tough. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and asked herself if she could live with herself if she did not even try to help her friends. “God damn you and your noble spirit, Emily,” she said and reached for her phone, dialled in Chase’s number. She answered on the third ring. “Hello Emily dear,” she said. “I’ll work for you.” Chase was silent, and Emily pictured her in her head, smiling triumphantly. “I am so happy to hear that my dear.” “When do you want me to start Miss Morgan?” “Monday. I’ll send a car to pick you up at 8:30am. I’ll see that you get home after work. That way you don’t have to worry about the commute.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “I am looking forward to seeing you Emily,” she said, and then hung up. Emily put her phone down. Monday. That gave her an extra fours days. “Okay Miss Morgan, you have all the advantages, and I have to hope that it makes you sloppy.” She turned back to her computer. There was a lot of work to do. The four days that Chase had given to her passed by in a blur. Emily was working on setting the events in motion that would let her buy the building, and she also had a lot of projects that she had to finish. If she had to work for Chase, then she was not going to have much time to devote to her clients. She also, not that she wanted to, had to face the possibility that she could end up not being able to work at all. Of course, she could not tell her clients that she might end up in a nursery and would have a hard time getting work done between feedings and diaper changes. She got depressed just thinking about it. So instead she told them that something personal had come up and she would have less time to work for them. It would explain why she would be turning down jobs. Doing so did not make her happy. She had spent a lot of time building up her reputation as someone people could trust to get jobs done fast. She had sacrificed any real social life for her career. Going dark like she was going to do for the next four weeks would hurt that reputation. She would have to build it up again. Assuming she was able to. The least she could do was to make sure that were no jobs left unfinished. She hardly slept more than a few hours a night. When Monday came she stood on the curb in front of her building, dark circles under her eyes, dressed in a blue skirt, white blouse and grey blazer, a messenger bag over her shoulder. A professional enough looking outfit, and one that could be mistaken for a school uniform, though of no particular school. Her version of protective colouring, giants being less likely to snap you up if they thought you were going to school somewhere. At precisely 8:30 a large, black town car pulled up in front of her. The driver was a man about nine feet tall. “Miss Black, Miss Morgan sent me.” Emily nodded. “Thank you.” He opened the passenger door, revealing a child’s seat in the back. That came as no surprise to her. He picked her up, slipping his large hand under her bottom, and then put her gently in the seat. “Let me get you buckled up,” he told her, pulling the straps around her, and between her legs. It was always the strap that went between her legs that got to her, embarrassed her the most. It pushed the material of her skirt up between her legs, often left her panties exposed. “There we go,” the driver said, clipping the belts into the central lock, and she knew it was a lock. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, climbed in, starting up the car. The seat she was in, unlike the last one, actually let her see a little of where they were going. She watched again as they left the area of her home, passed through the undeveloped land and then into the city. This time the car did not stop in front of the building but pulled into the parking garage under it. The driver stopped the car and came around to release her from the child’s seat and help her out. He placed her on the garage floor, in front of a bank of elevators. “Miss Morgan is waiting for you.” He pressed the call button and then the button for the 23rd floor when the doors opened. “Have a good day, I will drive you home this evening.” “Thank you,” she told him as she stepped into the elevator, taking some solace in that she was supposed to go home that evening. The doors closed and the elevator rose to the 23rd floor. As before when doors opened, she found Chase waiting for her. “Emily, good morning,” she said sweetly. That was probably not how most bosses greeted their employees, she thought. “Good morning Miss Morgan.” “Come along, let’s talk in my office.” She turned and led the way, Emily following. So far it seemed very much like her first visit. She passed through the outer office where Lisa worked. Lisa was there, watching Emily as she walked past. “Good morning Miss Smith,” Emily said. Lisa nodded. “A pleasure to see you back.” They did not have to make any more conversation, for Chase went right into her office, closing the door once Emily was in. “Have a seat,” Chase said as she went to take a seat at her desk. A chair, with two small steps, had been put in the office in front of Chase’s desk. Design wise it was somewhat similar to a high chair, which Emily did not think was accidental. At least there was no food tray which could be used to lock her in, she thought, as she climbed into the seat, setting her bag in her lap. Once she and Chase were seated, Emily feeling a little ridiculous, Chase said, “I’ve given some thought to how to start you off. I am going to have you take part in an intern program we have.” Emily considered that for a moment, wondering if she had heard it right. “An intern? Seriously?” She regretted her incredulous tone as soon as it was out of her mouth. Chase did not really frown, but there was a slight downturn to her lips. “I am aware of your abilities, but have you ever worked in a company, as part of a team?” It was, Emily thought, a fair question. “In College there were team…” “Yes, I am sure there were,” Chase cut her off. “But that was school, this is real life. I will get the best idea of your ability to work for me and the best position for you by having you take part in the program.” There was a sense of finality in that statement that told Emily not to argue. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “As it happens I had an intern start the program just last week. You will be able to work together, you can show me examples of teamwork.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “Well then, let’s handle the introductions before I give you the quick tour.” She stood. “You should feel grateful, seeing as the owner of the company is handling your familiarisation.” Emily, who was climbing down from her chair, looked over her shoulder and saw an expectant look on Chase’s face. She recalled what Chase had said about accepting a gift. As she reached the floor, she turned and said, “Thank you, Miss Morgan, I am very grateful for your kindness.” Chase smiled. Emily wanted to scream. Chase took her back to the elevator and then pressed the button for basement level 3. “When I introduce you to people I won’t use your last name,” Chase told her. “What? Why?” Emily did not like the idea of being denied her last name. “I don’t want it to get out Emily Black is working for me, not until I think of the best way to rub it in Lyle’s face.” Emily took some heart in that, hoping it meant that ultimately Chase wanted her in the office, not in a nursery. “This is pretty far down,” Emily said, her early hope fading a little. The doors opened on a mostly featureless, grey corridor. “Before I bought the building a security company used the basement and some of the lower floors. All very secure. I use it as temporary office space now.” “So you have to earn windows?” Chase smiled and looked down at her. “I suppose that is so.” Emily did not know what to think of that. She was not sure if it was ominous or not. “This way,” Chase said, turning right and walking down the corridor. Several doors along she stopped and opened the door. Then stood aside and indicated that Emily should enter first. Emily did, expecting something bad. What she got was a rather mundane office, lit by fluorescent lights, two desks pushed together. Behind one of the desk sat an older teenager, as she was seated Emily did not know how tall she was, but it was apparent she was an Amazon. And she was stacked. “What are you doing here?” the teen asked. Chase entered. “This is the other intern starting here today,” Chase said, stepping in behind Emily. The girl stood up. “Miss Morgan.” She was probably eight feet tall, perhaps a little taller, standing there with her enormous breasts. That is completely unfair, Emily thought. “Jessica, this is Emily. Emily, this is Jessica King.” “Hello Jessica,” Emily said. “Emily,” Jessica replied. Emily guessed she was confused. “Both of you will be working together during the duration of this program,” Chase told them. “Emily, Jessica is taking a two-month break from high school. She is a straight-A student and the president of her school’s Entrepreneur Club.” “Impressive,” Emily said. “Jessica, Emily has gotten gold stars in potty training and keeping her bed dry.” “Impressive,” Jessica said in the same tone that Emily had used. I hate them both equally, Emily thought. “Take a bit of a break Jessica. I am going to show Emily around and then bring her back here.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “This way Emily,” Chase said. The tour was pretty basic. Emergency exits, the cafeteria, the building’s day care centre on the first floor (a sunlit, bright space) and finally a bathroom two floors above basement level 3. “I’ve had a stool put in the cleaning closet for you, and the toilet at the last stall is sized for inbetweeners.” “Thank you,” Emily said, keeping her tone even. “And that concludes the tour. You know where my office is if you need to see me.” Emily frowned. “Don’t I need to sign some things, for payroll or something?” “Not to worry. I’ll be paying you out of my own pocket, just to keep things simple.” “That sounds like an allowance.” Chase smiled. “It does, doesn’t it.” Emily took a deep breath. “That’s fine.” “I am glad you approve.” Emily bit back a reply. “Let’s take you back to your office.” They returned the elevator and Chase explained the nature of the job. “You and Jessica have a weeks worth of work each. You’ll be analysing some collected data, seeing if you can find trends related to advertising my company has done.” The elevator door opened and Chase ushered Emily in. “You’ll be trying to find out what gets the best penetration.” “I understand,” Emily said, who thought it sounded pretty simple. “Good.” She pressed the button to take them down. In the office she found Jessica waiting, as well as a new chair behind her desk. “Here’s your username and password,” Chase said, handing Emily a folded piece of paper. “An email has been sent to you with the location of your work as well as instructions. If you have any questions just ask Jessica. This is the key to this office.” She handed over the small, brass coloured key. “I’ll be happy to help Emily,” Jessica said, her tone all treacle. “Thank you Jessica,” Chase said, and then left. Emily noticed that there was a keyhole on both sides of the door, guessed it had something to do with the security company that had once used it. She did not give it too much thought for she was alone with the teenage amazon, which was not good. Jessica reached down behind her monitor and brought forth two large cups of coffee, marked with the logo of a local chain. “I bought you a coffee since we’ll be working together.” She smiled brightly as she came around the desk. How stupid does she think I am, Emily wondered as she said, “Thank you very much.” Jessica held the cup in her left hand close towards Emily. Emily reached for the right which Jessica pulled back slightly and then almost thrust the other cup at her. Pretending not to have noticed she took the offered cup. “I didn’t know how you took it,” Jessica said, “so I brought cream and sugar. I know you littles like that. I take mine black.” Her tone took on a superior quality. “Black is fine,” Emily said as if she was trying to prove herself to the teen. Jessica smiled condescendingly. What a piece of work, Emily thought. Emily took her seat, using the built-in step, hung her bag off the back of the chair. Jessica sat beside her, their desks were close together. She put her cup on the desktop. Emily put her cup down, as close to Jessica’s as she could manage, then looked at the paper Chase had given her. Her username was ‘emily’ and the password was ‘IMBaby’. Emily sighed, then logged on and changed her password. “Jessica,” Emily said. Jessica looked over at her. “What?” “I am not sure I understand this. Can you show me?” Jessica smirked. “Of course Emily, I know this is hard for you.” “Thank you,” Emily said, colouring her tone with false relief. Jessica moved over to work on Emily’s computer, showing her where the files were and what they had to do. While she was condescending, Emily switched their coffee cups. “Thank you Jessica,” Emily said in her sweetest tones. “You’re so kind.” The smile Jessica gave her was so obvious in its contempt she might as well have called Emily ‘useless’. “You’re welcome Emily.” Emily took her seat and went to work, downloading some programs she had written a few years back to do similar jobs. She tweaked them and set them to processing the data Chase had given her. Emily pretended to drink her coffee, but really dumped it, bit by bit, into her garbage can when Jessica’s attention was focused on her work. For all she knew Jessica could have doctored both cups and trusted her greater size to protect her. When the larger woman looked over at her Emily could see her eyeing the decreasing liquid in the cup, her smile growing. Jessica was drinking the coffee that Emily had switched with her, seemingly unaware of the change. Emily hoped. After about an hour and a half of work, Emily had all the tweaks made to the program and had run the first days work through it. Now she was going to see what Jessica was trying. Emily got out of her chair, grabbed her bag, started towards the door. “Where are you going?” Jessica asked, her tone making it sound like ‘where do you think you are going’. Emily looked at her, her nervousness not entirely feigned. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, voice small. Jessica shook her head. “Oh Emily, you can’t just leave your work undone. As an adult, you need to have self-discipline.” “Self-discipline?” Emily asked, knowing exactly where it was going. “Exactly. As good employees we should stick with our work until it is finished. We can’t just go off to the,” she paused, “potty whenever we have a little twinge from our bladders.” I hate her, Emily thought. “You mean stay here until the work is done. No matter what?” “Exactly. In fact, I think we should lock that door and not leave unless our work is done. I can hold your key for you, if you want, just in case you think you might need a little incentive.” “So we’re locked in until the work is done?” Jessica nodded with a smile. “Exactly. That is the mature, adult thing to do.” “Oh. Well, I finished all of the work I was supposed to do today.” Jessica blinked. “What?” Emily nodded as she returned to her desk. “Look,” she said, bringing up the files. Jessica came over to look. “That’s not possible,” she said once she had seen the completed work. “It’s not?” Emily asked her. “Well, I guess it is, but, how?” “I'm good at this, I suppose. So, I can go to the bathroom.” Jessica scowled. Emily was a little worried that she might have pushed too hard. “Fine,” Jessica said. Emily nodded, picked up her bag, started towards the door. She stopped and looked back at Jessica. “Do you want me to lock you in?” “What?” Jessica asked, her tone snappish. Emily cowered, not entirely faked. “You said to lock the door and not leave until the work is done.” Jessica frowned. She reached into her pocket and took out a key. “Fine,” she growled, almost throwing the key at Emily. “Lock the door.” Emily almost dropped the key as she fumbled to catch it, using the action to hide a smile. God, Jessica was stupid. Or maybe she just had so little respect for Emily she never considered she was being played. “What’s your phone number?” Jessica asked. Emily told her, Jessica wrote it down. “I’ll call you if there is an emergency.” Emily nodded. “Well?” Jessica said, looking down her nose at her. “Don’t you have to go to the potty?” Emily nodded, scurried from the room, closed and locked the door behind her. “Dumb ass,” Emily said, heading down the corridor until she found a quiet nook she could hide out in. She sat down and took her laptop out of her bag. She joined the wireless network and continued the work. It was about thirty minutes later when her phone rang. She answered it. “Hello?” “Emily, I need you to let me out.” “Okay, I just have to tell Miss Morgan,” Emily said, trying to sound eager. “You’re talking to Miss Morgan?” There was uncertainty in Jessica’s tone. “Uh huh. I’ll just let her know…” “No, forget it.” Jessica hung up. Emily put the phone aside and went back to work. It was about twenty minutes later when it rang again. “Emily,” Jessica said as soon as Emily had answered. “I think I smell smoke. Get down here.” “I’ll pull the fire alarm and tell Miss Morgan,” she said. “What? No! I mean, I was joking. Stupid.” She hung up again. Twenty minutes later the phone rang again. Emily let it ring for a bit before picking it up. “Hello?” “You better get down here. And don’t say anything to Miss Morgan. I found something wrong with your work, so you better get it fixed right away.” “Oh no!” Emily nearly shouted. “Jessica, you are really nice. Thank you so very much.” “Yeah, yeah,” she said, trying to sound calm, but Emily could hear the desperation in her voice. “Just get down here right away.” Jessica cut the connection. Emily went back to work. Five minutes later the phone rang again. Emily answered it. “Where the hell are you stupid?” Emily had to hold the phone away from her ear as Jessica was yelling. Breathing hard she said, “Couldn’t reach,” deep breaths, “elevator buttons,” deep breath, “couldn’t ask anyone,” deep breath, “to press them.” More deep breaths. “Running down the stairs.” “You idiot. I got to… Get down here.” It almost sounded as if she had slammed her phone against something. Emily worked for another minute, then put her computer back into the bag. She returned to the office. She unlocked the door, and while expecting it, she was almost hit by the door as Jessica pushed through it in her dash towards the elevators. Hand pressed into her crotch, taking small, quick steps, Emily did not think Jessica was going to make. Following at a distance, she caught a scent of flatulence in the air. She saw Jessica standing in front of the elevators, dancing from foot to foot, looking up at the indicators. Emily did not think the elevators were close as Jessica turned, still dancing, now two hands pressed between her legs, and pushed through the door to the stairs. Emily shook her head and went back to the office. “Idiot,” she said with a smile. Chase had had issues with her interns before, but Jessica had presented her with a new one. She pushed open the door to the first aid room and walked in. Jessica was sitting on the rooms cot, a blanket pulled around her shoulders. She had managed to soil all her clothing, except for her bra. It was a little impressive. “Miss Morgan, I can explain…” Jessica began as soon as she had entered. Chase fixed her with a stare. “Explain why you were sitting in your own mess, a few steps from the bathroom, crying?” “I wasn’t crying! I was yelling. I was angry.” “You should be ashamed.” Jessica flinched. “It wasn’t my fault,” she said in a small voice. Chase reached for Jessica’s purse. Jessica looked like she was going to try to grab it, but another glare from Chase made her withdraw. In the purse, Chase found a small bottle. She held it up, shook it. She also produced a credit card receipt that indicated the bottle had been purchased from a nearby pharmacy a few hours prior. “You’re lucky,” Chase said as she looked at the bottle, reading the writing on it. “Due to your size, there is unlikely to be any long-term effects. Someone smaller might not have fared so well.” “That was the idea,” Jessica said petulantly. “I am kicking you out of the intern program,” Chase told her. “What? It was that stupid little. She poisoned my coffee and locked me in the room and…” A single step brought Chase to stand over Jessica. Her hard gaze made the teenager scrunch back against the wall, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “You will not ever say that again, to anyone,” Chase told her. “What? But she…” “Never!” Chase snapped, and Jessica whimpered. “If you bring this up before a family court I guarantee that you will be the one sent off to a reform school. Do you understand me?” There were tears in Jessica’s eyes as she squeaked, “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase felt bad for a moment. Jessica was barely more than a child, and browbeating her like that was cruel. But she was not about to chance losing Emily. She opened the door, reached out to a shelf and grabbed a pair of pink track pants and a white t-shirt which she tossed to Jessica. “I will tell your school that you were a little too immature for this opportunity, and that is all I will tell them.” Jessica caught the clothing and began to slip on the t-shirt. “If anyone finds out what happened you're are welcome to tell them you were trying to slip something to a little but stupidly mixed it up, which is probably the truth anyway.” Having pulled on the shirt, Jessica looked at her, actually pouting. Chase shook her head. It always bothered her to meet an Amazon who was not ready to be a grown-up. Next, she tossed a tied up plastic bag at Jessica. “Your clothing. You’ll need to wash it. Or throw it out.” Jessica blushed. “Get out of my company,” Chase said in parting as she walked towards the elevators. Now it was time to deal with Emily. She was looking forward to that. She had been too lenient on the girl. By the time she was finished Jessica would not be the only one crying. Her resolve faltered slightly when she entered the office and found Emily over her keyboard, focused on her work. She coughed. Emily looked up. Chase was glad she looked a little uncertain. “I’m afraid that Jessica will not be returning.” “I hope it is nothing serious,” Emily said, face revealing nothing. “She said that you locked her in this room.” “She told me to.” “That seems highly unlikely.” “It does.” Emily brought out a smartphone. “But as it happens I have a recording.” “Of course you do,” Chase said, walking over to the desk. The phone played back a conversation between Emily and Jessica, and, as Emily said, Jessica did make the request. “You are far too clever.” “I don’t know what you mean.” Same damn dead-pan innocent look. “You’ll have to finish her work as well as your own. Perhaps I will keep you locked in here until you get it all done.” Chase leaned forward over the desk. Emily shifted back slightly, but before Chase could do anything else, she said, “It is all finished.” Chase straightened. “What?” “I finished all my work and Jessica’s work. I felt bad for her.” Chase did not contest that statement but came around the desk to look at the monitor. She took the mouse from Emily and clicked through the files. “Too damn clever by far.” She looked at Emily, caught a flash of a smile that disappeared as if it never was. Chase realised she had never seen Emily smile before. It as either the neutral expression, or one of dread, and she knew she often saw anger dancing in her eyes, but never a smile. Chase wanted to see that smile again, as often as possible. “You exhaust me Emily. Take the rest of the day off. I’ll call the car. In fact, take tomorrow and the next day off while I think of what next to do with your internship.” She pulled her phone from her jacket, paused and then said, “Without pay of course.” “Of course,” Emily agreed readily. Chase wanted to say more, but at the moment she would give the victory to Emily. She took her to the elevator and up to the garage. Chase put Emily in the car’s child seat, taking a bit of joy in making sure her skirt was pulled up, displaying her panties, just before she pulled the straps tight and locked them. She smiled at Emily’s blush. “Try to be a good girl,” she told her and patted her on the head before closing the door. “Take her home,” she told the driver. As the car drove off Emily tried to shift about so she could pull her skirt back down. She hated the idea of anyone looking down into the car and seeing her exposed like that. However, Chase had done too good a job and eventually, Emily gave up. One day was done, and two days off. That was not too bad. She was off to a good start. She did feel a little bad for what she had done to Jessica. Just a little bit. Jessica had brought on herself, but still… it had been like shooting fish in a barrel. Better her than me, Emily thought, sitting back in her chair, relaxing as much as she could. If no one asked for it back, she was going to keep Jessica’s key as a trophy. Chase sat at her desk, the work that Emily had done on her monitor. “Am I interrupting anything?” Richard asked. She looked up from her monitor, saw Richard leaning into her office. “Nothing vital, what’s up?” He came into the office, closed the door. “There are some details about the Jones deal I want to confirm, but I am curious about the incident with your intern.” “Which one?” Richard took a seat. “The real one.” Chase smiled. “Jessica was not as mature as I would have hoped.” He nodded. “I suppose that is one way to put it. Listen, I’m kind of wondering what you are doing with Emily Black.” “What I am doing?” “What do you want?” Chase sat back in her seat. “What I want is to wake up every morning, stretch, and hear Emily calling or crying in her nursery cause she needs her diaper changed.” He nodded. “Understandable, so I wonder why she isn’t in a nursery.” “I don’t have a nursery yet.” He laughed. She turned her monitor. “Take a look at this.” “What’s this?” He leaned forward. “My intern test.” He looked at the monitor. “The one that is two weeks of work that you give them a week to do?” “Yes. It is always a good way to gauge how they handle such things.” “You just like being cruel.” Chase laughed. “So what am I supposed to be looking at?” “Emily finished all her work, and Jessica’s. Four weeks of work, in less than half a day.” He looked away from the monitor and up at her. “Is it any good?” “Spot checking it, everything looks good so far.” “That is…” “Impressive?” “I was going to say creepy. Are you sure she is not a robot sent back from the future?” “I can’t discount it, but I think it unlikely.” “How?” “She probably wrote a program in the past for this type of work, then downloaded it and ran all the files through it.” “Okay, creepy but impressive.” “So, yes, I want her safely in a nursery, but I also want Emily Black doing things like this.” She waved her hand at the monitor. “You know what they say about having your cake and eating it too,” Richard said. “I prefer the Asian saying, that the person who tries to catch two rabbits will catch neither.” Richard seem to think about that. “Why?” he asked after several seconds. “Because while I can’t figure out how to have my cake and eat it too, I think if I am clever enough I can chase and catch two rabbits.” “I think you are wasting your time, but it is your time to waste. So good luck.” “Thank you.” “Now, about the Jones deal…” Emily had appreciated the time off. She was not able to do anything to speed up her plan to buy the building, but she did manage to take a few small jobs as Emily Black, jobs she could quickly turn over. Both good for her bank account (which was going to suffer due to her plan) and for her reputation. She received a message from Lyle telling her he was sorry to hear that she had personal issues and offering any help he might. He even invited her to a party he was having for his ‘girls’, sure she would enjoy it, At first, she was worried he might have heard something from Chase but discounted that. He probably just thought that any Amazon would enjoy seeing littles in such a situation. Jokes on you, she had thought as she had sent off a polite message thanking him and declining his kind offer. On Thursday morning she was outside of her building so she could be picked up and taken into the city. The driver pressed the elevator buttons for her, but when the door opened she was not presented with Chase’s familiar form. No one was awaiting her. She wondered if the change in the procedure meant anything. Then she told herself that this was only her third time there, and she could not make any generalisations. Walking the hallways, she made it to Chase's office and looked in. Chase and Lisa were leaning over Lisa’s desk, talking. Chase noticed Emily first. “Come in Emily,” she said. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “I was very impressed with your work the other day.” “Thank you.” “So impressed that I want you on my health insurance program.” “Normally you have to be working here three months before you are eligible for insurance coverage,” Lisa told her, a small sniff suggesting what she thought of Emily’s ‘jumping the cue’. “I already have health insurance,” Emily said. Chase smiled. “I want you to have insurance I know can take care of you.” Emily was about to say that she had never had a problem with coverage but realised the pointlessness of it. Chase wanted this for reasons Emily knew she was not going to care for them. “You’ll need a medical exam, Lisa has kindly offered to take you to the clinic.” Chase had put a subtle emphasis on the word ‘kindly’ so Emily thanked her. Then she asked, “Clinic?” “Just a facility that is familiar with the medical requirements of littles,” Chased told her with a smile. That Emily did not like. Perhaps it showed on her face, for she said, “It is just an exam, nothing else.” Oddly enough Emily suspected that part of that was directed at Lisa. She either had to run or see this examination through. If she was not on the 23rd floor, she might have run. “Take care of Emily,” Chase told Lisa. “Yes, Miss Morgan. Come with me Emily,” Lisa said as she picked up her purse from her desk. “Yes, Miss Smith.” “I will see you when you get back,” Chase told Emily. Lisa took her hand when they were in the elevator, holding it tightly when the doors opened on the lobby. She walked Emily across the floor towards the doors, pausing to talk to the receptionists. They were the same ones that Emily had met when she had come there the first time. “Well hello again sweetie,” the blonde said, and then asked Lisa, “Is she yours?” “No. Miss Morgan is looking out for her.” “Ohhh, I’m so jealous,” the brunette said. “Do you wish Miss Morgan was looking out for you too?” the Blonde asked her. She laughed. “Well, depending on the type of ‘looking out’,” she told her companion with a wink. Emily wondered if they thought this was going over her head. She supposed that Chase was an attractive woman. “I’ll let you two gossip, Emily has an appointment I need to get her too.” “Hope to see you soon Sweetie,” the blonde said. “Have a good day,” the brunette told her. Lisa took her out the doors, to the front of the building where a taxi was waiting for them. Of course, there was a child seat in the back seat. Lisa got her settled and strapped in and then circled around to get in the other door. She gave the driver an address, and in a few seconds they had merged with traffic and were on their way. Lisa took a tablet from her purse and started working on something. Emily did not necessarily want to talk to her, but it was a little boring to sit there in silence. About thirty minutes later, in a less urban area of the city, the cab pulled up in front of a single story building, next to a small park. When Emily was taken out of the car seat, she could see the sign in front of it. ‘Westburne Paediatric Clinic’ and just below it in slightly smaller letters, ‘Specialists in Little Medicine’. Again, Emily was seized with a desire to bolt, but Lisa had a tight hold on her hand. As she was led up the brick path to the front doors all, she could think of how embarrassing it was. Taken to a paediatrician; Chase was a jerk. There was a waiting room, about three-quarters of the chairs, occupied. There was about a half and half split between actual children (all of them giants) and littles. She felt her cheeks grow warm with a flush, for the littles were all diapered, all in embarrassingly childish and infantile clothing. With her red, knee length skirt and white blouse, she looked positively adult by comparison. “Chase Morgan made an appointment for Emily,” Lisa said to the receptionist. Emily was a little annoyed that her last name seemed to be unimportant (though Chase had already told her that she did not want ‘Black’ being used, but that was at the company) and she fanned that annoyance into anger. A carefully controlled anger, but anger nonetheless. She had no time to be embarrassed. She had to be aware, and careful. The state of the other littles should be a warning to her. The receptionist had looked up the appointment information for she said, “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat, a nurse will call for you soon.” Lisa, still holding Emily’s hand, walked to one of the chairs. She then pulled Emily up into her lap. Emily did not argue there were other chairs available, for the moment willing to put up with it. From her place on Lisa’s lap, she regarded the other patients, careful not to stare. She suspected about half of the littles there had accepted their new status, and the others, judging by the discomfort they were showing, the embarrassment, had not. Emily had done her best and was doing all she could, to not end up in that situation, but she wondered which would be better. As hard as it would be to live with the shame, at least she would be able to try to fight back (metaphorically of course) and escape that fate. But sometimes it seemed that the littles who had accepted their status were happy. Maybe some littles really did seek such a state, as the giants seemed to tell themselves. Well, not her. She noticed that Lisa had been bouncing her softly on her knee, probably for a minute or two. It was not as is she was a fussy child needing to be soothed. How very annoying. “I am ready for Emily,” a nurse said, coming out of the back. Lisa put Emily back on the ground, took her hand, and led her to the nurse. The nurse was a shade taller than Lisa, a pretty woman, probably in her late twenties, dressed in a white tunic and pants. “This is Emily,” Lisa said. The nurse bent down and gently ruffled her hair. “Hello Sweetie, I’m Nurse Brenda. Now don't you worry Emily, you have nothing to be scared of.” Her tone was patronising. Emily could have said some things, most of them bordering on rude, but she just said, “Yes Nurse Brenda.” Brenda straightened. “Bring her this way,” she said to Lisa. They passed through the door into the back of the clinic. There was a corridor that led to the left and right, and one that extended in front of them. There were lots of doors, opened and closed, and she could see children, no, littles, being led between those rooms, mostly waddling in thick diapers, wearing silly little gowns covered in cartoonish prints. She passed a few rooms, one or two open doors. She made it a point to take quick looks, to get a better idea of what the place was like. Brenda opened a door, let Lisa usher Emily in, then closed the door behind herself as she entered. It was an examination room, much like many others Emily had been in, though the low shelf by the examination table, filled with diapers, was not something she was used to. “Get her undressed please,” Brenda said to Lisa. Emily started to unbutton her own blouse, but Lisa knelt down and brushed her hands away. “We have to do what the nurse says,” she told Emily with a smile. This was another fight that Emily could not win, so she let Lisa undress her. When her skirt was slid down to puddle at her feet, Brenda said, “She’s not wearing a diaper.” Lisa nodded as she skimmed the panties down to Emily’s ankle. “She’s potty trained.” Emily felt her cheeks grow hot. Potty trained. Not, ‘doesn’t need diapers’. Wasn’t it enough that Lisa had her there naked? She knew the answer to that. “Well, we’ll have to put her in a diaper. Clinic policy.” “Of course,” Lisa said, gleefully. You bitch, Emily thought. Brenda grabbed Emily up under the arms, lifted her with dizzying speed, and without so much as a ‘by your leave’, lay Emily on her back on the padded top of the exam table. “Can I have a pink diaper?” Emily asked, giving Brenda a wide-eyed ‘puppy dog’ gaze. “Why of course sweetie. I know little girls like you like pink.” She grabbed one of the pink diapers from the shelf, shook it open with a soft rustle of plastic, and then took Emily’s ankles in her large hand and lifted her bottom off the exam table she could slide the diaper under her. “Even when you potty train them they still want their cute diapers,” Brenda said to Lisa, almost as if Emily was not there. “Yes,” Lisa said, sounding doubtful. As Brenda lowered Emily onto the diaper padding, Emily looked over at Lisa, saw her looking back with a puzzled look, as if she was trying to figure out what Emily was doing. Brenda lightly dusted her with powder, then pulled the diaper up between Emily’s legs, adjusted it a little, then tapped it tightly up. “There we go sweetie,” she said, patting the front of it. “Thank you, Nurse Brenda,” Emily said sweetly. “Oh, you are welcome sweetie. Such a polite little girl.” Brenda picked her up and put her on the floor, then got one of the gowns and had Emily raise her hands so she could slide it over her, before tying it off. While the gown had hardly covered the diapers of any of the other littles that Emily had seen, she was actually small enough so that the bottom of the gown dropped low enough to almost obscure her diaper. Almost. Lisa pulled Emily back onto her lap, bouncing her again on her knee, eliciting an almost inaudible crinkle from the diaper. Brenda picked up a tablet and began asking questions about Emily’s medical history. Lisa, of course, did not know, so Emily had to answer first, and Lisa repeated it. Brenda did not enter anything until Lisa had said it, almost as if Emily were not speaking. Of course, that was the point. The clear message was that anything she said did not matter. Emily wondered how long it would take before that sort of treatment began to make her feel as if she really had no voice. She really hated the place. Once the questions were asked, Brenda weighed her, measured her and then said that Emily’s vision would be tested next. They left the room, walking through the halls, the littles on display Emily thought, to another examination room. The ‘parents’ of the littles likely were paying extra for such treatment. Brenda left them the with the eye doctor, whose name Emily did not learn. He gave her a full eye exam, made notes, and then spoke to Lisa. “Her eyes are fine, she might need glasses in a few years, if she needs to read,” he said, the last with a soft laugh. “But as long as the letters are on play blocks she will see them fine.” He smiled down at Emily and ruffled her hair. She hated him. Next was the room for the hearing test. They paused outside of the room, while another patient finished up. In another exam room, close by, a little was sobbing softly, laying on her stomach on an exam table, and enema tube in her bottom. Emily tried not to stare, but she saw the red of the little’s bottom, suggesting a recent spanking. She shifted her gaze away, heard the nurse giving the enema saying something about crybabies needing to be punished. Another little passed, a man, probably in his mid-twenties, waddling by, his diaper crinkling loudly. He was blushing from his head to his toes. Lisa knelt down and patted Emily' passed bottom. She said softly, “This diaper is pretty thin. No waddle and hardly a crinkle.” “It’s pink,” Emily said innocently. Lisa frowned, lips pursed, then sighed and straightened. She might have said ‘too clever’, but it was too soft for Emily to hear. She had her hearing test, and then a dentist took a look at her teeth. “Remember to take good care of your teeth,” she told Emily. “Or maybe you’ll lose them.” Emily felt a little sick, wondered if some littles sitting in the very chair she was in had had their teeth taken out, for a more infantile smile for their giant ‘parents’. She hoped not. On their way to the next examination, Emily peeked into a small room that looked more like an office, saw who she assumed was a doctor talking to a man and his ‘child’. She could not take a good look, but she took in as much as she could without anyone noticing. In the next exam room, Emily had to endure a gynaecological exam, feet up in stirrups, opened diaper beneath her bottom. She might have taken pride in what was an adult exam, but it was too damn uncomfortable. Then the nurse, a big, heavy-set woman, lowered the stirrups and flipped her over on her stomach, sliding her and the diaper farther up the table, so she was still lying upon it. “We’ll take your temperature now,” she said, no-nonsense tone. Emily did not appreciate what that meant until she saw the woman take a thermometer, it’s size almost obscene, from a jar of Vaseline. She had a moment to try to relax, knowing it was going to happen even if she protested (and protesting would not stop it, likely make it worse). There was a tiny bit of comfort in that there were several other even thicker thermometers in the vaseline and Emily was getting the smallest. “Here we go,” the nurse said. She spread Emily’s buttocks and placed the end of the thermometer against her hole for several moments, long, long moments, then slid it in. Emily was not happy. The nurse took her time, gently patting her bottom, pressing the thermometer farther and farther in, almost as if she expected Emily to enjoy it. Was she supposed to enjoy it? What the hell was wrong with the woman? Did she really think that she was going to get off on being violated by a too large rectal thermometer? Later Emily would consider that some littles, with their genitalia sealed up in plastic and padding, with hands often imprisoned in mitts, might indeed find the embarrassing treatment pleasurable, having few other options. That thought would leave her depressed for hours when she had it. However, at that moment, lying on her belly, positioned on an open diaper that she had recently been wearing, a glass rod up her bottom, all she could feel was embarrassment bordering on complete humiliation. Eventually, the nurse seemed to think that the thermometer had been in her long enough, and she pulled it out, slowly. “A healthy temperature,” the nurse declared, before wiping the thermometer off with a tissue, the tissue going in the garbage the thermometer into a beaker of alcohol. “Now we just need a little blood. Let’s sit you up.” She did not give Emily a chance to sit up on her own, but lifted her, slid the diaper around, and then sat Emily atop of it. Emily was careful to keep the deadpan expression on her face, though it was hard, angry as she felt about her treatment, and about the superior smile she saw on Lisa’s face. Fortunately, the anger did not blind her to what the nurse was doing. She saw the woman look at two boxes of needles. She watched the nurse take a pair of glasses from her smock, put them on, then carefully check both boxes. Emily did not trust it. The nurse selected a needle, prepared a holder, then put a tourniquet around Emily’s arm. “Don’t worry sweetie,” she said, rubbing a spot on the inside of Emily’s arm with an alcohol swab. “It will just be a little prick.” Emily had had blood taken before, and she was not a fan of it, but she knew it would not hurt that much. But she still held herself ready, and when the needle slid in, feeling as if the nurse was trying to jam a blunt piece of metal into her arm, she did not cry out. She did not say, ‘what the hell are you doing?’ She did not treat the nurse to a blast of salty language that would put a sailor to shame. She sat there, careful not to grit her teeth against the pain, trying to look as if nothing was wrong. The nurse actually frowned. You god damned bitch, Emily thought. Still frowning, the nurse turned the needle ever so slightly — it hurt like hell — and slid the blood tube into the opposite end of the holder, drawing a vial full of blood. She put the tube aside and then pulled the needle free. Emily wanted to scream. Looking down at her arm Emily expected to see a bloody, jagged hole, but all there was was a small drop of blood on her arm, and that was quickly covered with a piece of gauze and a bandage. The nurse looked back at the boxes of needles, then at the needle itself a moment before she disposed of it in a sharps container. “Well, you were very good in not crying,” the nurse said, and then, like an actress who had flubbed her lines and was trying to get back on track, “but if you had been a crybaby, you would have been punished.” Emily recalled the little getting the enema. “Yes nurse,” she said politely. “Let’s get you back in a diaper and then you can see the doctor,” she said, reaching towards the diaper filled shelf, her hand going to another of the pink diapers. Emily had one more card to play, and she said, tone almost petulant, “I don’t want a thick diaper.” The nurse paused. “Well little missy,” her hand shifted to the side, grabbing a thick white diaper, “what you want does not matter.” She pushed Emily onto her back, lifted her by her ankles, swept the old diaper away, and proceeded to diaper Emily in the extra thick padding and loudly crinkling plastic of the new one. Emily knew it was not the same as having a pillow wrapped between her legs, but damn if it did not feel that way. The nurse lifted her off the table and placed her on the floor. Emily could see that Lisa was looking down at her, confusion on her face. She had apparently stumped Lisa again. Emily pulled futilely at the gown for a moment, but there was no way it was going to cover the diaper. “The doctor will want to speak with you,” the nurse told Lisa. “Please come with me.” Lisa took Emily’s hand, leading her after the nurse. Emily found she could not bring her thighs together and was forced to waddle. It would probably be easier to crawl, which she supposed was the idea. Lisa's hold on her hand helped her keep up, but more than once it was only that hold that kept her from falling. And Lisa knew it. The nurse showed them to a small office, and it was as Emily had supposed, the same room in which she had earlier seen the doctor talking to a man. “The doctor will be with you soon,” the nurse said, giving Lisa a smile. Then Emily and Lisa were alone. Lisa took a seat and pulled Emily up onto her lap. Emily did not appreciate it, but the clinic was a little cool, and the gown thin and Lisa was warm. Lisa began to bounce her on her knee again, but the diaper was crinkling loudly, and when she stopped Emily assumed it was because the noise was annoying her. Instead, she began to hum, gently playing with Emily’s hair. She had what Emily had dubbed ‘little fever’, and she felt bad for the next ‘unattended’ little that Lisa might meet. The doctor came in a few minutes later. She was an older woman, probably taller than Lisa, but she had a slight stoop, and it was hard to be sure. She introduced herself to Lisa as Doctor Green. “Well,” Doctor Green said, swiping her fingers across a tablet, “Emily is as healthy as a little horse.” She smiled down at Emily and reached out to gently squeeze her nose. “Just a little healthy horsie.” Emily did her best to look amused. However, it was a wasted effort, for Doctor Green had already turned her attention back to Lisa. “We should get the blood work back tomorrow. I don’t expect to see any problems, but I’ll let Miss Morgan know, one way or another.” “Thank you,” Lisa answered. “The only issue I have is with the amount of alcohol she drinks. Not that it is a lot mind you,” she said, fixing Lisa with her stare, “but as a rule, my patients don’t drink any, and I think that would be for the best.” “I’ll let Miss Morgan know,” Lisa said. Go to hell you busybody, Emily thought. The doctor folded the cover over the tablet. “That is it. You can get her dressed. I would like to see her again in six months.” She stood. “You can make an appointment now, or we can call Miss Morgan. Just let the receptionist know what you want.” Then Doctor Green was gone. Lisa slid Emily off her lap, and then reached for her clothing, which she had been carrying all along. It turned out getting Emily dressed proved a challenge to Lisa. She could not button up the lower buttons of Emily’s blouse, as the diaper was too thick, and no matter how hard she tried the skirt was a lost cause. With a sigh Lisa looked about the office, perhaps hoping to spot a thinner diaper, but as Emily had noticed earlier, the office had none. She looked Emily, frowned, and then tore the tapes open and tossed the diaper into the trash. “Get dressed,” she said, pushing Emily’s clothing at her. Emily was careful not to show any relief. It had been a risk, for it had been possible that Lisa would have just led Emily out in the too thick diaper wearing only a partially buttoned blouse. However, Emily had suspected that she would not. She was beginning to think she understood Chase’s plan. They left the clinic, Lisa telling the receptionist to call Miss Morgan when it came time for Emily’s next appointment. They waited for the taxi that Lisa called, all the while Lisa watching her with what Emily thought was a judgemental gaze. Another ride in a car seat, back to the office. Lisa paused in the lobby to talk to the receptionists. She learned the blonde was named Claire, the Brunette Kristen. They asked about Emily’s checkup when Lisa mentioned it, and Claire asked if she had gotten a needle and if she had been brave. “Yes Miss Claire,” Emily had said as she hoped one day Claire got blood taken with one of those needles. They arrived back in Chase’s office suite a little afternoon. Chase came from her office, smiled. “Someone is very healthy,” she said. “You’ll have full health coverage without a problem.” “Thank you,” Emily said. “Will it require going to that clinic?” Chase smiled. “It does specialise in little care.” Emily did not say what she thought that was worth. She also knew she would not be giving up her own health care anytime soon. “The doctor said she drinks too much.” Lisa’s tone was just as disapproving as the doctor’s had been. What a snitch, Emily thought. “Well, I am sure that Emily will think about that.” “I’ll try,” Emily said, and then to Lisa. “Thank you very much for taking me to the clinic. I know you are busy with your own work.” Lisa looked a little surprised, and Chase frowned. Emily supposed she had taken the wind from her sails, thanking Lisa before she was told to. Lisa got over her surprise and said, “You’re welcome Emily.” She looked over at Chase. She thought about Chase’s game. Chase wanted Emily Black to work for her, so she was not going to make the first move to step Emily back into a second babyhood, but if it happened…. Well, Chase would likely be happy to offer comfort and take charge. However, Chase did not seem to be really upset that Emily had returned, undiapered. She wondered if just maybe Chase had not known what kind of things happened at that clinic. “Emily, I want you to help Lisa out for the rest of the day, tomorrow as well. It will give you a good feel for the company.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” Emily said. Case sent Emily home a little early so she could talk to Lisa. “So, tell me how Emily did?” she asked, leaning on Lisa’s desk. “She got all the work done, she takes direction well, does not ask many questions, I have nothing bad to say about the job she did.” Chase thought that Lisa might not have liked admitting that. Nodding Chase said, “Yes, yes, but tell me about the clinic.” Lisa almost giggled. “She was wearing this one diaper that was so thick I thought she was going to fall over and have to crawl.” Chase realised clapping her hands together happily was not going to look so professional. She simply nodded. “She needed to wear a diaper?” “Well, didn’t need it, just a clinic rule.” “I would have liked to see that.” “Well,” Lisa said, “I did try to keep her in it… but I couldn’t get her clothes on over it, and you said not to let anything too overt happen.” “That’s fine,” Chase said, waving a hand to dismiss the concern. “She’s too clever you know.” “I suspect I know, but tell me.” Lisa explained Emily’s ‘trick’ with the diapers. Chase had to laugh. “She is smart.” “A little like that does not need to be smart when she is so cute.” Lisa was almost pouting. Chase nodded. “There is something to say about smart and cute.” Emily had not looked forward to a weekend so much since she had left high school. It was not so much that the Friday at work had been all that terrible. She had just worked with Lisa and Chase on various projects. The most challenging thing about Friday was the bathroom up on the twenty-third floor. None of the toilets had really been suitable for anyone under seven feet. Using them had required a little climbing and precarious perching with the real danger of falling, either off or in. Still, better than the alternative of asking for help. She was pretty sure that help would mean having Chase or Lisa sitting her on the toilet and remaining in the stall with her, and would eventually lead to a child’s potty. It was possible she was paranoid, but she did not think so. Plus she had also been going ‘commando’ on Friday, as it was as far from the diapers of the day before she could get. The evening after the clinic she had been bothered, no longer needing to be focused. Even a pair of panties had reminded her a little too much of a diaper. But now she had a weekend to herself. She spent the morning catching up on chores, in the past done in fits and starts over the whole week. She also had a few quick jobs and bug fixes for clients. It was early in the afternoon when she went down to Linda’s apartment (after looking about for any cars that might belong to bigs). Linda welcomed Emily in and one of the first things Emily noticed was the nine-foot-tall dress form in the corner of the room. “Some of your larger clients asking you to make clothing for them?” Emily asked. Linda put a cup of tea down in front of Emily. “Yes, not a lot yet, but enough that I needed to invest in that dress form. Actually, what I’ve started getting request for are matching outfits for the children clothing I am making.” “Matching outfits?” Emily suddenly pictured Chase wearing the sailor dress from the other day. She almost shot tea from her nostrils, which would have been unpleasant. Linda, perhaps seeing where Emily’s thoughts were going, said, “Not matching styles, but themes. Like,” and again it seemed Linda had some inkling about Emily’s thoughts, “those outfits I sent to Chase, did you see the sailor dress I made.” “I think I saw it,” Emily said into her tea to hide her blush. “Well, I might, say, make a white sundress with black anchor embroidery along the hem of the skirt. So it would be obvious the outfits went together. That reminds me, you are working for Chase now, do you think you could ask her something?” Emily had not been able to keep people from noticing that she was picked up and dropped off every day by a big, black car, so there had been no use in trying to hide she was working for Chase; though she had told her neighbours that it was possibly only temporary. “Maybe, what?” “Ask her if she would like some matching outfits for those I sent her. I think Chase is a bit of a mover and shaker. I think if she were to take an interest it would help things take off.” Emily really wanted to tell Linda that she did not think Chase would be interested, she almost lied and said Chase had bought the outfits for a friend and would not need any kind of matching outfit. She did not, mostly because she wanted Linda to do well, and partly because she figured a lie like that might come back at her. “I’ll let her know. She might be interested.” She actually probably would be, Emily could almost envision that telling smile on her face. “Thanks. You know, I was thinking about making you a sundress.” “I…” “Candy told me you don’t care for them,” Linda said, not giving Emily a chance to respond, “but I thought if I add a nice jacket to it, with a conservative cut, you could wear it to work. We are getting into the hot summer now. It will look good.” Emily thought about it, picturing it in her head. She supposed it would look nice. “Alright, I’ll give it a chance.” “Let me get my measuring tape.” Linda was smiling. Once she finished up at Linda’s Emily went out of the building, across the street, to Candy’s. She found the mechanic working on a motorcycle of giant proportions. Even though she knew who it had to belong to she asked, “Is that the…” “An old war Valkyrie, the thing has to be more than seventy years old, but all the construction is bulletproof, not literally of course. Had to be terrifying to ride on one of these when people were shooting at you.” Emily stepped up onto the stand the bike was mounted to. The seat was almost as tall as she. “How will you ride this?” Candy shook her head. “I won’t. You’d have to top seven feet, and even then your toes would be reaching. I got a friend who can ride it for me, I’ll ride along on the back when it comes time to test it out. Not the best way to do it, but I’ll be able to hear the engine and get a feel for the vibrations. Help me strip this engine down?” “Sure,” Emily said. Candy handed parts to Emily, who cleaned them and then laid them out carefully on a work table. Along the way she learned what each piece was called and what it did, as well as what it might cost to replace if it was damaged. “I can make some of the parts myself, if I have to, the original is better,” Candy told her. “Can you get originals?” Emily asked, cleaning the years of gunk from a piston ring. “If I can it won’t be cheap.” They worked for a few hours, had the engine completely stripped down and laid out on the table. “That’s a good days work,” Candy said, wiping her hands on a rag, leaving oily streaks on it. Emily nodded, looking at all the parts. “Gonna come to Sharky’s tonight?” Candy asked as she tossed the rag aside. Emily recalled the doctor from the clinic. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” “Good.” Candy smiled. “You better wash your hands, I got some soap at the sink that will cut that grease.” Emily looked down at her hands, saw how black they were. “Right. Thanks.” Not a bad day, Emily thought as she washed her hands. Chase was also busy on that weekend. She had called her realtor to talk about buying a new home. They met in Chase’s apartment, Maggie laying out various pages on the kitchen table. “So why are you looking for a new house? I thought you loved this place.” “I do, but, I think I might need a little more space.” She could not help but smile. “I think I might want a nursery.” “What?” Maggie looked up. “Are you expecting?” “No, but maybe adopting.” “Maybe?”
 “It’s complicated.” “Complicated? If you say so. I contacted the building’s management firm, in case you wanted to stay. You should have bought the penthouse when you had the chance, I don’t think the current owner is ever going to sell.” “I didn’t need the penthouse when I moved in. Anything else in the building?” “Not that is really much larger than what you currently have.” Chase sat back. “So I’ll have to leave.” Maggie nodded. “Anything close?” “The big red brick high-rise, about a block down from here, know it?” “I’ve seen it. Looks nice.” “It is. One of the biggest two-floor suites is open. You could put a nursery in there, small room for a nursemaid or nanny, a couple of guest rooms if you want to entertain.” “How long has it been on the market?” “About three weeks. Priced a little high, but it might sell. If the owner drops the price, it will probably be snapped up.” Chase chewed gently on her lower lip for a moment. “Can you arrange a showing?” “Not a problem.” “What else?” “Nothing in this immediate area. There are a couple of pocket mansions about a thirty-minute drive from your workplace.” She shuffled from printouts across the table. “This one is on the Two Pines golf course. Six-bed rooms, seven and a half baths, dining room, den, big deck, on about three acres of land.” Chase nodded. “Can you show me around these properties?” “Of course. Tomorrow good for you?” “Yeah.” “I’ll arrange things. Help if you can give me a time frame.” “No idea I’m afraid.” “Care to explain Chase?” Chase shook her head. “It’s both complicated and confidential, for the moment.” Maggie sighed. “Lyle is a lot easier to deal with.” “Lyle? Lyle Redmond?” She nodded. “He called me up, a few hours later we put in an offer on a mansion about two hours north of here. He wants to move his menagerie of little girls into the country, probably show off the new helicopter he bought.” Chase was careful not to frown. “Lyle and I have a different way of handling things.” “So I’ve heard. He’s having a big party there in two weeks. Afternoon for showing off his girls, evening for a regular party, housewarming kind of bash.” “Are you invited?” “Fraid not, though I’m hoping. You could probably get an invitation, or just crash.” Chase nodded after a moment. “I’ll think about it.” Monday, the second week of Emily’s ‘internship’ at Chase’s company. When she walked into the office suite, Lisa looked up from her phone, pointed at Chase’s door, mouthed, ‘go in’. Emily nodded and walked into Chase’s office. “Emily, have a seat,” Chase said, indicating the almost high chair. Emily climbed up into the seat, looked across at the sitting Chase. “Linda asked me to pass a message on,” Emily told her. “Oh?” “She wanted to know if you might want some complimenting outfits, for yourself, for those ones she made for you.” “Really? That’s kind of her. And I, of course, appreciate you telling me.” She smiled. “I suppose having something that would match well would be nice. Tell me Emily, which of those outfits do you think I should choose to have matched?” Emily swallowed, thinking about all of those outfits, and the possibility that she was going to end up in one if only to see if the clothes Linda made really was complimentary. “The sailor dress,” she said, thinking that out of all the others it was the most harmless. “I knew you liked that dress,” Chase said, teasing tone with a hint of eagerness within. Emily opened her mouth to deny it, then pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders in a noncommittal way. “Speaking of your neighbours, I think Gus told me that you’ve helped him with his network issues?” Emily wondered what Chase was getting at. “Yes.” “So you are good with networking stuff, routers and things?” “I know my way around a LAN,” Emily told her. “LAN?” “Local Area Network.” “Good. I need you to go down the to daycare and work on the network and computer issues they have been having.” Emily almost said ‘you’re sending me to daycare?’ but she knew Chase probably wanted that. “What issues?” she asked instead, trying to treat it as if it were nothing. “When I bought the building my IT people were busy getting the network for the business set up. I contracted out the work on the daycare,” she sighed, “which was a mistake. Nothing has worked right, and I think the children and teachers deserve better.” “I understand,” Emily said. “If you need any equipment talk to John, the IT manager. Tell him to bill any of it back to my department.” “Alright,” Emily said as she climbed down from the chair. She did her best not to be embarrassed, not wanting to blush. “Can I get someone to press the elevator button for me?” It was, Emily thought, a pleasant, bright daycare, insomuch as her (thankfully) limited experience told her. There were about five teachers, and maybe twenty children. The majority of them actual children, but Emily saw two male littles, one dressed like a toddler, another dressed as if he was only a few months old. She did not get close them, not wanting anyone to think she was interested. She also did not get too close to the actual children. For an adult little there was no worse bully than a giant child. The daycare was run by a friendly man, Emily guessed he was in his mid-thirties. He was all smiles when she came in, playing with a few of his charges. “You must be Emily,” he said, dropping down to one knee, offering his hand. “I’m Simon Pett.” That was a better greeting that she had hoped for and she took his hand, which enveloped hers, shaking it. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Pett. I understand you have some network issues.” “Do I ever,” he told her, standing. “Half the time we don’t have an internet connection, and I am pretty certain about half the computers need to be overhauled or whatever you do to them. I really appreciate the help.” “Why don’t you show me around?” Emily said, looking up at him. “This way then.” He showed her the computers, the wiring closet, which was a mess of cabling and routers, as well as a few other areas where network equipment had been set up. It was all done terribly, Emily thought. He also pointed out the playroom, the toy boxes, the bathrooms (with potty seats) and introduced her to the rest of this staff; a young man Kent, and three women, Tammy, Mary and Aby, all of them taller than seven feet. Kent almost picked her up when Simon had introduced her. “I’ll get her into some play clothes,” he had said with a smile, before Simon had intervened, saying “No, no, she’s here to fix the computer problems.” “Her?” Kent has asked, obviously disbelieving. Annoying, Emily thought. Tour and introductions out of the way Emily had gone to work. She plugged her laptop into the system and set about tracking down all the issues. It took her about an hour to find the faults, and another hour to get the IT manager to send down the replacements she needed. After that she was busy for most of the day, fixing hardware issues and running updates on all the computers, cleaning up a few viruses she found. Kent seemed to be following her, watching her, as if he thought she was about to wet her panties and start crying. At one point she was goosed by a five-year-old who was taller than she, and then the girl demanded of the nearby Mary, “Why isn’t she wearing a diaper.” Mary swooped in, quickly taking the girl’s hands. “Sorry,” she said to Emily, and then to the girl, “Becky, not all littles have to wear diapers.” With an incredulous look, Becky said, “That’s not what my mommy says.” Mary led Becky away before Emily had to hear more about what the girl’s mommy thought about littles. Emily knew she should not wish ill on children, but she often found it very hard. She went back to work. It was about an hour away from the end of the workday, and Emily had crawled into a cabinet to pull out a superfluous switch (probably put in to pad out the bill) when she felt someone slap her across her skirted bottom. Her head shot up and smacked into the shelf above her. “Son of a bitch,” she cried, for a moment she saw stars. Nearby she heard a childish voice say, “That’s a naughty word!” Emily pushed herself out of the cabinet, expecting to find one of the children. Instead, she saw Chase, kneeling down next to her. She was smiling. “Sorry,” she said, her tone making it obvious that she was not, “but your bottom, wiggling around like that, just needed to be spanked.” Nearby Simon laughed. “I know Miss Morgan. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself.” Emily looked towards her supposed ally, feeling betrayed. “Of course,” Simon continued, “you should only do it when a little is naughty. Otherwise, it is just cruel.” That was a little better, Emily thought, not much, but she was willing to forgive him. “Well then, we’ll just say it was proactive for your salty language.” Emily did not bother to argue that there would have been no salty language had Chase not struck her. “I’m almost finished here,” she said to Chase. “Excellent. How is it going, Simon.” “Wonderful. We’re finally able to stream shows for the children without them cutting out every ten minutes, and all our computers are working much better. Emily is a little miracle worker.” “You’ll need to run a bit of maintenance about once a month to keep everything working well,” Emily told him. “Well, you are welcome back anytime you want,” he said. “Do you hear that Emily? You can come to daycare any time you want,” Chase told her as if Emily had just not heard it. “Appreciated, but I’m sure I can handle most of it remotely.” “I’m sure you would enjoy visiting in person. Actually, I think you often look a little piqued in the afternoons. Wouldn’t you like to come down for an afternoon nap?” “Feel free,” Simon told her. “And don’t worry if you wet in your sleep, we can deal with that.” And just like that, he was her unknowing enemy again. Chase laughed. “Don’t worry about that. Emily got gold stars for keeping her bed dry.” “Impressive,” Simon said, and it seemed he really thought that it was. Emily nodded, did not say anything, wondered when Chase was going to stop mentioning that. Probably, she thought, when it was no longer true. Damn. “How long until you are finished up here?” Chase asked her. “Oh?” Emily said, reached up to rub the sore spot in her head. “Maybe half an hour.” “I’ll be back in about half an hour then. Keep up the good work.” “Okay… Wait? You’ll be back?” “I’ll give you a ride home tonight. I have to see Linda, so it is on my way.” “Great,” Emily, managing not to sound sarcastic. Chase winked at her and then left. Emily watched her go. She felt someone touching her head. Looking up she found Simon smiling down at her. “Just making sure you did not hurt yourself when you bumped your head. If you are feeling a little dizzy, we can lay you down.” “No, thank you, I’m fine,” Emily said as she got back down to crawl into the cabinet. Likely he would have her lying down in a crib if she took him up on his offer, though even one of the mats the children napped on would be bad enough. Strapping Emily into the child seat in the back of her SUV was an enjoyable feeling for Chase. She did not leave Emily’s panties exposed as she drew the restraint belt between her legs, as Emily had been well behaved. She did give the strap a bit of an extra pull, so the stiff material would gently rub against the girl. Chase was a firm believer in positive reinforcement. “There we go,” she said, patting the restrained Emily on the head. “Thank you, Miss Morgan,” Emily said, polite as always. Chase almost thought she meant it. She was hoping the gratitude would be genuine one day. She drove a little slower than usual, drawing it out, enjoying looking in her rear view mirror to watch Emily. Near the end of the drive, she thought that maybe Emily was a little fussy. She wondered if it was the strap, or perhaps if Emily had to go potty. For a moment she considered taking a long detour, but she decided against it. Had she not promised Linda that she would be there around 5:30 she would have made the detour, just to see what happened. Outside of the apartment building, Chase took a slightly flushed Emily out of the seat, confident that Emily had enjoyed the ride, for the strap that had been between her legs was warm with a touch of moistness. She almost lifted Emily’s skirt to get a look but chose not to. She did, however, ask, “Did you enjoy the ride in your baby seat?” “Yes Miss Morgan, thank you,” Emily said, apparently a little distracted. Chase leaned over and patted Emily on her bottom. “Run off to your apartment, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Damned if she did not actually run. Chase got a bag out of her car and then went up to see Linda. “Sorry if I’m a little late,” Chase said, ducking her head slightly as she entered Linda’s apartment. “Oh, that’s okay. I appreciate your interest.” She looked around, noting the tall dress dummy among the smaller ones. “Emily says you have an idea for making complimentary outfits.” “Yes,” Linda said, slightly nervous bob of her head. “Would you like some tea?” “Thank you, that would be wonderful.” Linda went to make the tea, and Chase took a seat, looking around. There were more outfits in progress than when she had last visited. Her gaze shifted towards Linda who was moving about her kitchen, preparing the tea. She wondered what the inbetweener might look like in some of her own outfits. Extremely fetching, Chase thought, but she shook that idea out of her head. Linda set the two cups of tea on the table and then took a seat. “What do you think you would like?” “Perhaps a skirt and blouse, a casual look you could go for a stroll in a park in.” Linda opened her notebook and began taking note. “Something lightweight, with a bit of flow. Silk would be good, but expensive.” She looked up at Chase. “Silk sounds very nice.” Linda nodded and began sketching in her book. Chase looked at what she was doing and said, “And a blazer perhaps, that I could wear for a business casual look.” Linda nodded once more. “That’s a good idea. In fact, I am making something similar for Emily.” “Oh,” Chase said with a smile, “you’re making Emily something?” “Yes.” Linda flipped back a few pages, then turned the book so Chase could see. Chase looked at it, then said, “Perhaps the skirt could be a little shorter, made of something a bit lighter, a little flappy.” “It’s meant for work,” Linda said. “But when she wears the jacket the weight of that will keep the skirt under control. When she takes off the jacket, well, then it is time to relax and have fun. And what girl does not like a playful skirt.” Linda nodded after a moment. “I suppose that is right.” She took the book back towards her and made a few notes. They returned to talking about Chase’s outfit. Once Linda had all her notes she told Chase it would take about two weeks to finish. “And if you can come in for a fitting next week that would be good.” “Do you think you could have it ready for the Friday after next? There is a party I might be going to.” “I should,” Linda said after a moment. “I’ll pay extra of course.” Linda nodded. “Thank you.” “There is one more favour I would like to ask.” “Oh?” Linda asked. Chase opened the bag she had brought. “I bought this off the rack, I think the fit is close, but I was wondering if you could make a few quick alterations. It’s for Emily.” Linda looked at what Chase had brought and then nodded. “I think I can.” Chase smiled. "And keep it a secret, I want it to be a surprise." On Tuesday Chase informed Emily that she would be working down at the reception desk for a few days. “With Claire and Kristen?” “Yes. They are both looking forward to having you with them.” I’ll bet, Emily thought. “And,” Chase said, “I got you a uniform just like theirs.” She opened a box that looked suspiciously like something Linda might have put together. “Here we go,” she said laying out the pieces of the outfit on the couch. “The fit should be perfect.” Emily walked over and stood up on her toes to look at the clothing. At least there was no diaper. “Let’s get you dressed.” “What?” Emily asked. “Well, if you want you can go down to the change room on the first floor, though you might need a little help reaching the locker, or you could go and change in the daycare, which is closer to your size, or you can change here. The door is closed.” “I guess I will change here,” Emily said, thinking it was the best out of a bad mix, and the outfit had not come with panties or bra or vest, so at least she would not be stripping completely. Emily managed to undress quickly on her own, but the receptionist outfit had a few extra pieces, and she could not pull them on fast enough to keep Chase from helping. Dark grey, knee length skirt, with a vest and jacket of the same material. The blouse was purple, with a frilly scarf that Chase tied around her neck. The pantyhose were nude, and the shoes closed toe slippers with a low heel. As Emily set the small, pillbox hat on her head, Chase pinned a brass coloured name tag over the left breast of the jacket. The outfit was almost an exact match of the one she had seen Claire and Kristen in, which of course was the problem. Wearing an obviously adult style outfit would likely make her look like she was playing dress up, especially with bigs wearing the same thing. More than a little embarrassing. “Come along,” Chase said. Emily took a moment to fold up the clothing she had worn and put it to the side before running off to follow after Chase. They took the elevator down to the lobby, a few other people getting on as they descended. Emily got a few, “Don’t you look professional,” from the other elevator passengers and one, “A little early for Halloween isn’t it sweetie?” Chase explained to them all that Emily was working down at reception. “Most of the interns spend some time there, to learn the company.” That statement got variations of, ‘isn’t that adorable.’ Down in the lobby, she found Claire and Kristen were expecting her, though not her clothing for Kristen said, “Oh my god, she’s wearing our uniform. That’s precious.” “Ladies,” Chase said, “Emily will be working with you, I expect you to take care of her and make sure she learns the nature of your job.” She shifted her attention to Emily. “Emily, there is a lot you can learn here. Don’t waste the opportunity.” All three, Kristen, Claire and Emily answered in the affirmative. Chase nodded. “Get to work.” She smiled. “This way Emily,” Claire said, indicating the receptionist desk. A stool with steps had been placed there for her. She climbed up it, the top of the counter coming to the middle of her chest. Claire took up position on Emily’s right, Claire on her left. “It is a fairly straightforward job,” Claire began, smiling at Emily. “But don’t think that means it is easy,” Kristen warned. “We are the first face of the company. It is a lot of responsibility.” They went on to explain the scheduling software, the phone system and the various procedures. Emily expected to be bored to death, but she soon realised that there was, in fact, a lot to learn about the company at reception. She began to see who was coming to the company and who they were seeing. Most seemed pleasantly surprised to find Emily there. Only one older man who had a meeting with a manager up on the fifteenth floor seemed to take offence at Emily’s presence. “Keep littles out of the way,” he had said. Emily actually apologised to him, though inside she was seething, and she made a point to memorise his name in case there was ever a bad-turn she could do him. Her apology seemed to defuse his anger, and he left muttering something about littles needing to be in daycare. “You handled that very well,” Kristen said, her tone not too condescending, though the head pat that followed was. The first day was not so bad. She felt like she was an animal in a zoo at times, both visitors and employees seeming to want to watch her. And when she went to the washroom at her break Kristen went with her, in case she needed any help. The Amazon wondered aloud wondered if the potty chairs in the daycare might be better. The restrooms on the first floor had toilets sized for inbetweeners, so Emily suggested that it should not be a problem. “Make sure to wash your hands,” Kristen had said as if she had not been about to do so. Being told to wash her hands gave her a sense of deja-vu, but she was too busy to pursue the thought. She learned that Kirsten and Claire seemed to have worked out a rotating schedule, one of them always going with her when she left the desk. It was of course annoying. Claire was a little worse, as she wanted to help Emily as much as she could. Kristen was a little better, but she wanted to talk about Chase. The next day, a Wednesday, Chase had her again at reception. Emily had known it was coming and had worn her uniform to work to avoid having to change in Chase’s office. She found the scheduling software lacking, so she made a copy of it on her laptop and began to fix it. Something to pass the time when things were quiet. “You know,” Claire said as she took Emily’s hat off to play with her hair, “you are the best intern we’ve ever worked with.” Emily looked up from her computer. “Have you worked with many?” “All of them,” she told her. “All of Chase’s interns do at least a few days of reception.” “Even the boys,” Kristen said. “Though they don’t get to wear the uniform.” Claire put Emily’s hat back on her head. “At least one wished that he could.” Kristen smiled and winked. “I was looking forward to working with Jessica,” Claire said with a sigh. “She was stacked.” Kristen nodded. “But you’re better,” Claire told Emily and wrapped her in a quick hug, lifting her off the stool for a moment. Emily took a moment to regain her balance when she was placed back on her stool. “Have you both worked for Miss Morgan long?” “I’ve been here since Miss Morgan bought the building three years ago,” Kristen said proudly. “About six months less. I was probably Miss Morgan’s first intern.” Claire reached out and gave Emily’s jacket a gentle tug as if to straighten it. “You like working for her.” “Of course we do,” Kristen said. “Great boss. Good benefits. Good work environment.” Claire listed the reasons. She smiled at Emily. “All the cute girls we can hug. That’s a new benefit.” “Can it, we got visitors,” Kristen told them. Emily shifted the computer to the side and smiled with the other two at the group of people approaching them. The following day passed similar to the others, though Claire was getting a little more difficult to deal with. She had not yet demanded the Emily use the potty chairs at the daycare, but it was getting close. The end of the day could not come soon enough. “Want to come out for dinner with us?” Kristen asked Emily as the security guards locked the front doors. “Pardon?” Emily asked. She had been looking towards the elevators, expecting her driver. “Claire and I are going out for dinner, maybe some drinks. Want to come with us?” “The place has a child’s menu,” Claire offered as if that was a selling point. “I’d like to,” Emily said, lying, “but I don’t have anything to change into, and housework has been piling up.” “Aww,” Claire said. “Well, I know what it is like to have to deal with housework. Must be extra hard for you, being so short.” It was hard to say if Kristen was offering heartfelt empathy or just making fun of her, so Emily took it as empathy and smiled and nodded. Not long afterwards her driver showed up, and Emily was able to leave. Chase was waiting down in the parking garage. “Give Emily and me a moment,” she told the man. “Yes ma’am,” he said and went to make himself busy. “Why didn’t you go out for dinner with Kristen and Claire?” “You’re watching me?” Emily said, a little shocked. “Of course I am watching you.” Emily frowned. “Now, why didn’t you go with them?” “Housework. A lot of it.” “Well, maybe you need someone to help you with that housework. A maid,” she paused, “or a nanny.” “I don’t need a maid,” Emily said, keeping her tone even. “And the nanny?” “No. Not a nanny either.” Chase looked down at her for several seconds. Emily had no idea what she might be thinking. She wondered if today was the day that Chase snapped. “You’ll be working in my office tomorrow. Showing me what has kept your head buried in your computer these past few days. Please take Emily home now,” she called to the driver. “Yes ma’am.” Emily watched her turn back to the elevators. Today was not the day, she thought, but what about tomorrow? She would be so glad when she could leave it all. If she could leave it all. The driver got her strapped into the seat while she was thinking such things. Chase returned to her office, considering Emily. She had been watching the little, how she dealt with her coworkers and visitors. Emily was smart, a little like a wild animal, always watching, always careful. Chase how gotten a little tired just watching her. Emily had, she noticed, never drank a cup of coffee offered. Usually, she had been able to come up with an excuse not to take it, and if she had to accept it, and Chase had watched, she never drank. And there were more things like that. It made a Chase sad, to think Emily was cutting herself off from things. So she would do what she could to help. The next morning Emily spent about thirty minutes showing Chase the alterations she had made to the scheduling software and then about three hours working with Chase’s IT manager as they planned a possible roll out. She liked John. He was so into tech that he often forgot she was a little and spoke to her like any other colleague. “We’ll need to write some documentation for this,” John told her as he set up an installer. “I can do that. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” “Better you than me. I hate that stuff.” He did not look up from the computer. “Am I interrupting something?” Both John and Emily looked to the door of John’s office. Chase stood there, smiling. “Nope. What’s up?” John asked. “Well,” she looked at her watch, “It’s lunch, and I’m taking Emily out.” “Sure. I forgot it was so late. I don’t want Emily to miss her lunch.” Often forgot, Emily thought but eventually remembered. “I was thinking of working through lunch,” Emily said. “I have a few energy bars in my bag.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Chase’s smile never faltered. “I’d be a terrible boss if I let you just live on energy bars, and this is the end of your second week. We can talk about how well you are doing.” “Take a lunch with the boss,” John said. “I got other work to take care of. We can pick this up after the weekend.” “See Emily dear, perfectly okay to take a break.” Emily considered the options, decided other than a flat refusal she had no choice. And she was thinking a flat refusal might make Chase stop playing her game and act. “Thank you for the invitation,” Emily said to Chase. “You’re welcome. Finish up here and then meet me in the lobby.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” Chase left, and Emily completed a few things, then saved her work. “Have a good lunch,” John told her, not looking up from her computer. “Thanks,” Emily said, trying to make her tone sound normal. Then she paused, sighed and asked, “Can you press the button for the lobby for me?” He looked up, smiled paternally, “Of course Emily.” She suspected he was going to take a little longer to forget she was a little next time they worked together. In the lobby, she found Chase in conversation with Claire and Kristen. “You’re going to lunch with Miss Morgan,” Kristen said to her. “I’m so jealous.” Her tone was meant to be light, but Emily thought there was a hint of bitterness in it. Emily hoped she had not alienated Kristen. Having an Amazon who was actively gunning for her would be difficult. “Come along Emily,” Chase told her. Not, ‘let’s go’, but ‘come along’. Chase’s big SUV was parked in front of the building. Chase put Emily in the back seat, in the child seat, though she did not pull the strap so tight up between her legs as she had the last time. As it did not take them long to reach their destination, five minutes at most, a tight strap between the legs would be less effective. Chase took her from the seat, then took her hand tightly and led her along the sidewalk lined with smaller, upscale looking buildings. “I don’t want you to get knocked over.” Emily might have discounted that, but there were a lot of bigs around, and they did not look as if they expected littles to be moving around among their legs. They entered the door of a restaurant called ‘The Modern Well’. As soon as they stepped inside Emily was presented with dark wood panelling, the smell of leather and old, sweet tobacco, soft conversation and faint smells of delicious food. A moment after they entered the host, a rail-thin man, easily ten feet tall, in a tuxedo, greeted them. Well, he greeted Chase. “Miss Morgan, a pleasure to see you.” His gaze shifted down to Emily. “You are aware we do not have highchairs?” Emily kept quiet, though there were so many things she wanted to say. “We won’t need one. Perhaps a booster seat,” Chase told him. “Of course,” he said, paused, and then, “We don’t have a child’s menu.” “I am sure Emily will be happy with that,” Chase said, tone suggested she did not want to hear what else the restaurant did not have that might dissuade anyone from bringing children or littles. “Of course,” he said, and led the way into the restaurant. There were people around, but the table and booth setup seemed to give diner’s privacy from each other. She heard them but saw few. The table they were shown to was near the back, in a quiet corner. There we four chairs, but Chase took a seat in the chair next to Emily. “It’s cosy,” she said. The table edge was at the level of Emily’s chin when she sat. The booster seat that was brought to the table about a minute later was needed. They ordered. Emily asked for the prime rib and salad, with a small glass of red wine. She noticed Chase’s ghost of a frown when Emily asked for wine, but she did not say anything. They both ate their salads, made a little small talk, discussed some of the things Emily had learned, all fairly standard. It was only when the waiter brought their entrees that Chase started playing. She took Emily’s plate from her. “Hey,” Emily said, careful not to be loud. Chase smiled, cut some of the meat, and then held it out towards her. “Open up from the steak train.” Emily frowned. “Really?” Chase, still smiling, said, “If you don’t like it we can go to one of those family restaurants. Get you some of the pureed cardboard they call children’s food.” She was good, Emily thought grudgingly. The food smelled delicious, and her stomach suddenly grumbled, loudly enough that Chase heard it. “Someone’s tummy wants some steak.” Emily opened her mouth. Chase put the steak in her mouth. Emily’s eyes widened slightly as she began to chew. It was the best prime rib she had ever eaten. It was nearly the best food she had eaten. Chase had cut another piece and held it out. “I can feed myself,” she said, more sullenly than she would have liked. “I’m worried you are not eating enough. Just want to make sure you get a good meal.” Chase’s tone and expression were innocent. Emily opened her mouth for the next amazing delicious morsel. Chase cut about five more pieces off, feeding each one to her. The sixth piece she darted to the side, leaving a smear of the au-jus on her cheek. “Someone is messy,” she said, wiping the sauce from Emily’s face before she could react. Emily blushed. Chase put the plate back in front of her. “Careful you don’t make a mess, or I’ll have to get you a bib.” As Emily took over feeding herself she wanted to be angry, but the food was so good she could not stay mad. And the wine had the double benefit of being extremely good and upsetting Chase. She felt quite full when she finished. Chase had finished her meal, a fillet of trout, and had spent some time just watching Emily eat. It was a little creepy, but Emily was not going to let it ruin her meal. “Shall we have coffees and deserts?” Chase asked her as Emily put down her cutlery. “I want to,” Emily said, “but that meal was so filling,” she said, for a second treating Chase as if she was just someone she was enjoying lunch with. “Maybe next time we’ll ask the chef for a smaller cut; we’ll tell the waiter that Emily’s eyes are bigger than her tiny tummy.” It was amazing how fast Chase could ruin the moment, Emily thought. Chase paid, and they left. The meat sat heavily in Emily’s stomach and made her feel tired for the first part of the afternoon. Once Chase asked if she wanted to go down to the daycare for a nap. She, of course, refused, politely. When the day was finally over, she was happy to go home. Two weeks down, she thought. Two weeks to go. Chase was ending the day by giving Lisa various instructions on the work they needed to get done in the next week. Her assistant was more brief than usual. Chase thought she must be angry, but did not know what might have upset her. So she asked. “What’s bothering you, Lisa?” She reached for her mug of coffee. Lisa did not answer immediately. She finally said. “It’s Emily.” “What about her?” “Do you know how many of your employees would love to go to lunch with you?” Looking over the rim of her coffee cup Chase asked, “Does that include you?” “No,” Lisa said, and then, “I mean, yes, of course, but I’m not upset about that. I just find it infuriating that she shows so little gratitude to you.” “Well, I suppose Emily does not think she should be grateful, but I can’t say I entirely blame her.” “She doesn’t realise how happy she should be that you have taken an interest in her.” “Well, that’s…” Chase thought about it. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps she does not realise that she should be happy.” “You see,” Lisa said. Chase nodded. “Are you willing to stay a little late tonight?” “Of course.” “Good, because there is something I would like to look into.” After a busy weekend (Emily had worked on several jobs, as well as getting things set for the eventual purchase attempt on the building) Emily came into work on Monday morning. She spent a pleasant enough day working with John, finishing off the work they had started on the previous Friday. She only saw Chase once in the morning. The next day she and John were looking at various software, discussing how some of it might be altered. At about ten in the morning, Lisa called, asking Emily to come up to the office. John was understanding enough to press the elevator buttons without Emily having to ask. However, as he did it, his expression was once again a little paternalistic. As the car took her up to the twenty-third floor, she sighed. Even John, who was a tech nerd, more interested in processors than pacifiers, still easily saw her as a helpless dwarf. When she came into the office, Lisa was shuffling papers on her desk. “Emily, good.” She took a thick file folder off her desk, carried it over to her. “Take this down to the meeting room on the seventeenth floor.” She pressed the folder into her hands. “Why?” “Because Miss Morgan wants it,” she said, then hustled Emily out of the office towards the elevator. “I don’t have time to answer every question you take it in your head to ask.” Her tone was exasperated as if Emily had been asking dozens of questions instead of just the one. Then Emily was in the elevator, descending towards the seventeenth floor, wondering what Chase was up to this time. She did not have time to examine the contents of the folder, though it looked too thick to be the sort of paperwork that might be needed to send her off to some training centre. Emily walked through the busier halls of the seventeenth floor, darting around the legs of the bigs who were moving about, all busy with something or another. She reached the closed door to the meeting room Lisa had described. She knocked. “Come in,” she heard Chase call. She fumbled with the folder and reached up to turn the doorknob. A push of her shoulder swung the door open, and Emily stepped in. The meeting room was large, and more relaxed than a regular conference room, with leather couches and low coffee tables. It was more like a coffee shop than a corporate space. Chase was there, and she stood when Emily entered. “Emily, good, you brought the folder.” Her tone had a hint of the same kind of praise one would use on a small child. Emily nodded, but her attention was drawn to the other woman there. She was probably as tall as Chase, though it was hard to be certain as she was seated on the couch. She was smartly dressed, and her features were sharp, her light blue eyes, locked on Emily, were a little like chips of ice. She wore her light, nearly white, blonde hair long. It contrasted sharply with her black suit. Chase took the folder. “Emily, this is Miss Caroline Oliver, she is the CFO of Three T Technology.” “Pleased to meet you, Miss Oliver,” Emily said politely. She had not heard the name Three T Technology since… “And her daughter Pipa.” Emily took her gaze from Caroline, dropping them. There was a young girl by Caroline’s feet, seated on a play mat. She had missed the girl, her attention so focused on the Amazon. She started slightly, realising the child was actually a little, dressed in a pink set of rompers and a white blouse. She was diapered. Emily started again as the other little looked up from the toys she was playing with. “Catherine?” Emily said, not quite believing what she was seeing. “Aemilia?” the other little asked, a tiny lisp blurring the ‘l’. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks might have reddened slightly. “Shit,” Emily said softly. Caroline looked down at the little at her feet, and then up at Emily. “How do you know each other? How do you know Pipa’s old name.” Old name? The woman had changed Catherine’s name Emily realised. “I believe,” Chase said, “that they might have gone to school together.” “Surely not the daycare,” Caroline said. She reached down and lifted Catherine/Pipa into her hands. “I would recall her.” She was looking at Chase. “Did she attend the Etiquette school?” “I believe they met in college,” Chase said. “Oh that,” Caroline said dismissively. “What a waste of time.” She bounced Catherine/Pipa on her knee. Emily found it unbelievable that Catherine actually giggled. “My little Pipa did not need to fill her head with such nonsense.” Emily had heard of people seeing red, but she had not experienced it before. She felt so angry. Every small indignity she had even ignored, pushed down and responded to with politeness, threatened to spill out of her, choke her unless she spewed forth a stream of invective at this stupid woman in her perfect clothing. Then she felt Chase put her hand on her head. Not hard, but firm, with just enough force that it brought Emily backed to herself. “Emily, why don’t you go back to work.” Emily swallowed, looked towards Catherine/Pipa. She was smiling as Caroline continued to bounce her. She caught Emily’s gaze, offered a shy smile, a tiny lift of her shoulders, almost as if saying, ‘what can you do’. Emily turned and nearly fled the room. “What do you mean work?” Caroline asked Chase. “Emily is in my intern program.” “What? How ridiculous. If it were I….” The door closed before Emily had to listen to what Caroline would do. She did not bother try to get someone to push the elevator button for her but pushed open a door into a stairwell. She sniffed, realised there were tears in her eyes. Wiping at them Emily ran up the stairs, each one nearly too high for her. Exiting on the 23rd floor she ran to the bathroom there, knowing it would be private enough. The last stall, once the door was closed, would give her a place to think without being bothered. She climbed up on the lid of the toilet, pulled her legs up, hugged them to her slim chest. She sniffed again, lifted her arm to wipe her tears away. Why was Catherine there? Had Chase known? Of course, she had, Emily told herself. Somehow Chase had arranged for her best friend from college to be brought there that day. Why Emily had no idea. She found herself thinking back to when she had first met Catherine. The four young women were starting their first year at the Woman’s Institute of Technology. Like most every other freshman there they had attended an assembly where they had been welcomed by the dean of students. Then those four, as well as several others, had been made to attend another, smaller meeting. All the littles had been informed that the school would do everything it could to help them with any special needs they might have. They were given a long list of services the school offered, all of which sounded like things a student just starting nursery school might need, rather than a young woman starting her first year in college. They were given their uniforms, black pleated skirts, white blouses, with blue smocks, and little hats. To identify them as students, the dean of students had said, and then laughed and said, “We would not want you to be mistaken for children.” For most of the littles there, it was not much of a danger, most of them possessing an adult figure, short as they were. For Aemilia Black, it might be a credible danger, but she knew the real reason they were being made to wear uniforms, and it had nothing to do with helping them. “Hurry up girls,” she said, “get changed.” So, in full view of the dean of students and some student volunteers, the littles stripped down to their underwear and changed into the uniforms. Aemilia was not impressed, nor was she surprised. Like the rest of the student body, they were taken on a tour, but Aemilia supposed the inbetweeners and giants were not forced to hold onto a long rope as they were led about. Finally, they were taken to the dorm rooms they would be occupying for their time at college. Littles were not allowed to live off campus at the Woman’s Institute of Technology. Aemilia had wished otherwise, but she had no choice, not if she wanted to study there. There were four beds in the room, each with bed rails around it, turning them into an ersatz crib. The mattresses were high enough up that Aemilia was going to need the small ladder attached to the bed to get into it. There was also a changing table, stocked with diapers, in pride of place, where in any other dorm room a TV might be. Three other girls would be sharing the room with her. There was Catherine, a pretty young woman, tall enough and developed enough that with heels she might pass as an inbetweener. Melody and Tammy were both taller than Aemilia, both of them a little over five feet, Melody somewhat chubby and Tammy more or less average. They had introduced themselves to each other and were just beginning to share details about where they had come from, their high schools, their plans for college when the door to the room was opened, and a young woman entered. Probably eight and a half feet tall, bright ginger, curly hair, pale skin, a spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Aemilia thought she looked like some sort of clown from a horror movie. She almost laughed but was not ready answer the questions as to what she was laughing about. “Hello girls,” the young woman said, looking down at them. “I’m your RA, Nelly Constaine. You can call me Miss Constaine, alright girls?” They all nodded, Aemilia said, “Yes Miss Constaine.” “Very good,” she pulled a piece of paper from her jeans pockets, took a quick look at it, then said, “Aemilia. Now, girls, you can call me Miss Constaine.” “Yes Miss Constaine,” they all said together. “Good,” she said with a smile, and the looked at each of them and named them. “Now that we are all friends, I can tell you that I will be taking care of you all for this year. If you need anything, I can help you with it. Won’t that be fun?” Four girls answered, “Yes Miss Constaine.” Nelly nodded. “Good. Now, clothes off.” Even Aemilia, who was used to going along with the Amazons, expressed some concern over that statement. Nelly held up her hand, silencing them. “Now girls, I am responsible for you. And I want to make sure that none of you have any nasty rashes of perhaps a boo-boo that needs to be looked at. So clothes off.” The last was said harder, each word bitten off. The littles stripped and soon four young women stood there, naked, as Nelly gave them all a look over. She had them turn around so she could get a look at their bottoms. She finally declared them all well. “Okay, it has been a busy day for littles. I want you all in bed.” “It’s only 6:30,” Melody said. Nelly smiled. “That’s right because the big hand and the little hand are on the 6.” Aemilia did not sigh. Melody seemed to realise there was no point in arguing. Nelly nodded. “Good girls. Now, let’s get you all diapered up.” Aemilia could not help but say, “I… We don’t wet our beds.” Nelly smiled. “Well, I’m sure that is true,” her tone saying it was not, “but some littles get a little too excited about one or two dry nights, so the school thinks it is better if you are diapered. Now not to worry. If you girls stay dry for five nights, you get to graduate to bedwetting pants. And if you are dry for a whole month after that, though I know how hard that will be, you get to sleep in your pretty panties.” Aemilia suspected that Nelly thought such a thing unlikely. “Okay girls, who wants to be first to ride the diaper train?” None of the littles volunteered. Nelly frowned. “Come along girls. If one of you does not step forward, I think four naughty girls will be taking a ride on the spanking train.” All four of the littles looked at each other. Then Catherine stepped forward. “Excellent,” Nelly said, and stepped forward, picked the naked Catherine up, and laid her on the changing table. “Let’s get a little baby oil massaged into your pretty skin.” Aemilia watched as Nelly filled her cupped hand with oil and then began to work that oil into Catherine’s skin. She took much more time than Aemilia thought was necessary, her hands too long between Catherine’s legs. When Catherine let out a little moan, her face flushing. Aemilia knew that Nelly was one of those bigs, the ones who used positive reinforcement when they treated littles like babies. Catherine was diapered and lifted from the changing table, placed down on the floor. “Now get into your bed kitten.” She looked at the others. “Who is next?” Aemilia knew that there was nothing she could do to avoid it, so she stepped forward. Better to get it over with. Nelly smiled and picked her up, laid her on her back on the table, gently moved her thighs apart. Then, after filling her hand with oil began to feel her up. Aemilia could not quite believe what was happening. She knew this sort of thing happened. She had even seen a nurse in her high school do it to another little, but she had not thought it would happen to her. She turned her head aside, making sure she was not looking at anyone else, she felt her cheeks warm. Nelly’s fingers gently traced across her vagina, slick with oil, never quite penetrating, and then between her buttocks, leaving traces of the slippery oil behind. Aemilia could not help let out a small moan, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment and arousal. “There we go,” Nelly said softly, then grasped her around her ankles to lift her bottom off the changing table. A moment later Aemilia felt herself lowered down onto the padding of the diaper. The soft material compressing as her bottom came down on it, a faint rustling of the plastic backing. She closed her eyes tight, not wanting to see anything that might happen. She felt Nelly push her thighs a little farther apart, felt her run her fingers between her legs one last time before the diaper was pulled up and taped into place. “There we go,” she said as she picked Aemilia off the changing table and put her down on the floor. “Get to bed now while I get your friends all diapered up.” She patted Aemilia on the bottom, hard enough to make the diaper crinkle loudly. Aemilia started forward, paused, unfamiliar with the material between her legs. It had been in nursery school that she had last worn a diaper, and at the time she had hoped it would never happen again. She was certain that she was waddling as she walked, and she desperately wanted to tear the diaper off. She almost did, but she knew that it would only make things worse. She reached her bed and started climbing the small ladder. Being naked but for her diaper, she was certain that her bottom was on prominent display. Almost jumping into bed, Aemilia pulled the sheets over her, hiding her diapers. Though she knew they were still there. Looking up she saw Catherine looking back at her, through the bed railings. Aemilia could see that Catherine was feeling the same way as she. Catherine smiled shyly, Aemilia took it as saying, ‘we’re in this together’ and she smiled back. Nelly finished up with Melody and Tammy, getting a small moan out of each of them before diapering them and sending them to bed. Finished she walked to the door, turned off the light and opened the door. “Make sure you get to sleep girls. I’ll be listening to the baby monitor, and if I hear any shenanigans, I’ll be back here to hand out some spankings.” Then she closed the door. It was dark, but a little of the late day sunlight managed to get through the curtains, leaving everything a little grey. She could hear the sound of other students, not being sent to bed, out enjoying the first night of college. She reached down between her legs and pressed on the front of the diaper, feeling the thickness of it, the slickness of the plastic cover. It was so wrong. She should not be in a diaper. She was not going to wet it. It made her feel so infantile. She pressed a little harder, felt the material pressed up against tender flesh, still tingling from Nelly’s fingers. She sucked a tiny bit of air in. “Are you horny,” Catherine asked softly. Aemilia blushed, took her had away from the diaper. Her back was to Catherine who lay in the other bed. “We should be quiet,” Aemilia whispered. “Do you really think Nelly is listening to the monitor? She’s out having fun like we should be.” Aemilia thought about that, then turned in her bed, looking towards Catherine. “I guess that’s right,” she said, voice low. “Are you feeling it, what Nelly did? I am.” Aemilia’s cheeks were warm when she answered, “Yes.” Catherine sighed. “I’m worried, scared. Is this going to happen every night?” “It will be okay. Stay dry for a week, then a month.” “Do you really believe that?” Aemilia nodded and said, yes. “How do you know?” “They charge us more, for tuition, dorm fees, all of that. You know?” “Yes.” “And the government grants they get are higher for littles, because we have so many special needs.” A sneer had pulled back Aemilia’s lip, and it showed in her tone of voice. “So?” “Most littles who drop out do it in their last semester.” “So?” “So the school makes more money off of us. I wouldn’t be surprised if Nelly were paying extra to be our RA. They want us to stay around to make more money off of us. We’re safe, at least until our last semester.” “Are you sure?” “I am,” Aemilia said. She had given it a lot of thought before choosing to attend this college. “But what about our last semester?” “I guess,” she paused, “we look out for each other.” After a moment Catherine said, “Agreed.” She paused. “I’m still horny.” Emily sighed, pulling her knees in tighter to her chest. She and Catherine had looked out for each other over the years in college and had kept out of trouble with all the bigs. They had both graduated. And somewhere along the line, Catherine had ended up in the situation the two of them had tried to avoid. She remembered the last time they had spoken. Aemilia, who had started going by Emily, took the bedwetting chart from the wall of her dorm room, carefully folded it up, and put it into her suitcase. “Why are you keeping that?” Catherine asked. She had earlier ripped up her chart and tossed it into the garbage. “I don’t want to give them any ideas, give them an excuse to say I obviously do not care about keeping my bed dry.” “Emily, you are going completely paranoid.” Emily turned to Catherine. “We spent the last two years keeping ourselves out of the clutches of some Amazon. Look at Melody and Tammy.” “Melody and Tammy were obviously too immature. Some littles are like that. We’re not.” Catherine shook her head. “You were the top student this year Emily. Do you think any of those bigs really think you need to be back in diapers?” “Of course they do,” Emily said, her voice raising. It was not the first time she and Catherine had had this conversation over the last month. Catherine signed and tossed her head. “No one wants to put you back in diapers Emily. People want to hire you. You’re brilliant. And you want to go off and do freelance work? That’s stupid.” “It’s not stupid. It’s safe. Come with me Catherine. I got an apartment where we will be left alone, and a client list we can build on.” “Emily, I am going to be working for a big company. TTT Technology. I got a 6 figure salary, benefits, and in a year or two, I’ll probably running their IT department. I am not going to give it up. You should come with me. They’ll hire you. I know they’ll hire you.” Emily shook her head. “No. I am going to work freelance.” She saw there was no point in arguing with Catherine. Somehow Catherine had convinced herself one could prove themselves to the bigs. Emily was not going to be able to make her think otherwise. “If the shine comes off corporate life, you have my email,” Emily told her. Catherine smiled. “Tell you what, in two years when I am running the department I’ll send you some big contracts.” “Yeah, that would be nice.”
 Catherine grabbed her suitcase. “Let’s make a point of getting together. Every year, no, every six months. Maybe we’ll go to a fancy hotel or something.” “That would be nice,” Emily said, thinking she might never see Catherine again. With a wave and a laugh, Catherine left the dorm room, dragging her suitcase behind her. Emily slipped down from the toilet, wiped one last time at her eyes, and left the stall. She wondered how long it had been before Caroline Oliver, CFO of 3T, had decided the little working in the IT department needed to be taken care of? Had Caroline perhaps suggested some sort of maturity test? Or maybe there was another clinic like the Westburne Paediatric Clinic that Catherine had been sent to. Or maybe Catherine had made a mistake a work, and someone decided a spanking was in order. Whatever had happened, Catherine had ended up back in diapers, the baby daughter of some amazon with too much money. Someone who was a lot like Chase. “Oh Catherine, why didn’t you come with me?” she asked softly as she took the stairs back down to John’s office. Not that she was doing so well at the moment, but she still had a chance. It was near the end of the day, she and John had gotten a lot of work done when he got a call. He picked up the receiver, listened for a moment and then handed it to her. Emily took it. “Hello?” “Emily,” Chase said, “please come up to my office.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up. Emily handed the phone back to John. “I’ll see you tomorrow if Miss Morgan wants me to continue working on this.” “Understood,” John said, giving her a wave. She managed to get into an elevator with a secretary. The woman seemed to guess where Emily was going and pressed the button for the 23rd floor without Emily having to ask. “Go right in,” Lisa said as soon as Emily had entered the office suite. When Emily entered Chase’s office, Chase had said, ‘close the door’. Emily was glad that nothing seemed out of place in the office. She had been worried that Catherine’s presence had been the signal of something. “Take a seat, Emily.” Emily climbed up into the high chair. Once Emily was seated Chase surprised her by saying, “I’m sorry about what Caroline said.” After a moment Emily said, “Pardon?” “Caroline should not have trivialised the time that Pipa spent in college.” “Catherine.” “It’s Pipa now, you have to respect that.” Emily did not think she did, but she kept quiet on that. “I does not matter that Pipa does not need what she learned in college, it is part of her life, what made her the person that Caroline loves, and it is where she became friends with you. Caroline should have respected that.” Emily did not know what to say. There was so much wrong in what Chase had just said. She doubted that Caroline Oliver actually loved Pi.. (don’t do that, she told her herself) Catherine. And everything Catherine had learned in college was valuable, and would still be valuable, if some Amazon had not decided she needed to be re-raised, stepped back to a baby. But that was not the way that Chase saw it. She suspected that Chase was incapable of seeing things that way. Still, she had apologised, and at least made an attempt. There was something in that. Something Emily respected, a little. “Thank you,” Emily said. She felt exhausted. “You know, Pipa was happy.” “What?” “Pipa was happy. She is well cared for, she smiled and laughed, played with her toys. She is a content little girl.” Emily almost called Chase a liar, but she modified her statement and said, “I don’t believe it. Catherine would never enjoy it.” Even as Emily said it she was thinking back to earlier that day. The small blush that might not have even been a blush, the lift of her shoulders, the giggle. There had not been a desperate cry for help in Catherine’s gaze, more a slight discomfort, as if meeting Emily again was somewhat disquieting. “Your college had quite a strict set of rules for littles, did it not?” Emily shrugged her shoulders. “Mandatory diapering for the first week, diapers during exams, which is understandable, exams are very stressful, required panty checks, set potty times… Other colleges were not so strict.” Emily had no idea what Chase was getting at. “It was one of the best institutions for what I wanted.” “So you went there in spite of those rules?” Emily nodded. “Perhaps Pipa went there because of them.” Emily opened her mouth, to deny that statement, but then she recalled Catherine volunteering to be the first diapered. She did not want to believe what Chase was suggesting. “Some littles really are not ready to grow up,” Chase told her. Emily shook her head, but it was a weaker gesture than she would have liked. Had Catherine really wanted that? “Would you like to take tomorrow off and go to a spa?” The non-sequitur took her by surprise, and it took a few seconds for those words to make sense to Emily, and even then she asked, “What?” “I usually do something with the interns, most often lunch, and usually after they have been here for a month, but we have already had lunch, and you are on somewhat of an accelerated pace. I think a day at a spa would be nice.” “This is not some sort of weird baby spa?” Emily asked before she could think better of it. Chase smiled. “No, but if you would like that I might be able to find one.” “No, a regular spa is fine,” she said quickly. “Good. It will give you the chance to relax. Now, why don’t you leave early today? Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Emily would spend most of the night unable to get any rest as she wondered if her friend Catherine had really wanted to be a baby again. The next day, about thirty minutes after she arrived at work, Chase was putting her in the child seat in the back of the SUV, and they were driving to the spa. It was about an hour away, and Emily was glad to see when they arrived that it was just a spa. Chase had already booked their appointments, had told them that Emily was a little, for the locker room had a step stool, and they had given her a lower locker to put her things in. Wearing a terry cloth robe that dropped below her knees (Chase’s robe hit the tall woman about mid-thigh) they were led by a beautician to some baths full of mud. ‘Good for pulling toxins from the body.’ After the mudbath, there was a shower, a soak in hot, herbal water, a skin scrub, then a 90-minute massage that left Emily feeling boneless. “Enjoying it?” Chase asked as they sat in a steam room after the massage. “Yes, very much, thank you.” It was true enough. “Light lunch next and then waxing.” “Waxing?” Emily could not help but make a face. “Not a fan?” “No.” “Can’t say I am either.” Emily almost told Chase that in college all littles had been required to get waxed, once a month, for hygiene reasons. It was either that or permanent hair removal. She remembered that after the first session Catherine had chosen permanent removal. Had that been a sign? She was still thinking about Catherine through the lunch (a garden salad with chicken) and when they were brought into the waxing salon. A nearly eight-foot-tall woman named Avril was taking care of Emily. As she helped Emily up onto the padded table, she asked, “Would you like me to mix a few things into the wax, so the removal permanent sweetie?” “What? No.” “Are you sure, you won’t have to go through this again if we make it permanent. You don’t have a lot of body hair anyway.” Big smile, tone a little condescending. “No thank you.” “Really?” She was not looking at Emily, but at Chase. “Her choice,” Chase said as she laid down on another of the tables. Avril shook her head, confused. Emily watched her carefully to make sure she did not take the initiative and mix up the special wax after all. The waxing was unpleasant as Emily remembered, but she was not very hirsute, and it did not take long before the procedure was done. Chase, being larger, and having more body hair, was still undergoing her waxing. Avril helped her down from the table. As Emily was doing up her robe, Avril said, “Why don’t you wait in the lounge outside until she is done.” Emily nodded and left, hearing the sound of wax being pulled off. She could not help but smile. She hoped that Chase found it as uncomfortable as she did. The nearby lounge had some reclining chairs, one or two at the inbetweener size that Emily could climb onto. She leaned back, did not bother to put up the footrest, and closed her eyes. The pain from the waxing was fading to a tingle, and Emily was able to relax. Her mind went back to the question about Catherine. As the night before she was able to recall many examples that could perhaps be taken as Catherine wanting to return to being a baby. There was the time Catherine chose diapers instead of restricting her liquid intake after several other littles had wet their beds, saying she wanted to drink when she was thirsty. Emily had accepted the answer then, even thought it made some sense (though she never wore diapers if she had a choice) but now, it made her wonder. Was this how the bigs see us? Emily wondered. No matter what the action it could be seen through a lens of a little needing to, wanting to be returned to babyhood. Mind going about as it was, and more tired than she realised, Emily fell asleep. She dreamed of Catherine, playing in a nursery. Come play with me Emily, she said in the dream. We can be babies together. Emily ran in the dream, trying to get away, but every door she opened led into another nursery, where another little she knew asked her to play with them. There was Tammy and Melody from the dorm room. Several other littles she had known in college. Littles from high school. Boys and girls, all diapered, all smiling, all asking her to play with her. Emily turned away from the latest nursery, in which a boy named George, who she had had a crush on when she had been in the first year of high school, was riding on a rocking horse, asking to her play. As she turned away, she was presented with the vast, ominous figure, leaning over her. ‘Let’s get these clothes off you’ the figure boomed in a voice that shook the hall. Emily woke, uncertain. Her dream seemed to have followed her, for she felt someone opening her robe. “See, I told you she was not wearing a diaper,” a woman said. Emily blinked, pushed away at the hands on her. “Get off me you crazy bitch,” she mumbled, still lost between dream and anger over what had happened to Catherine. “Do you hear what she said?” a second woman asked. Emily, now awake, found that two bigs were standing over her. Both were dressed in the same robes she and Chase wore, making it clear they were also guests of the spa. The one that had opened up Emily’s robe was a plain looking woman, who looked to be in her early twenties. She had short brown hair and an unfortunately too small nose. Her companion, the one that had just spoken, was a little prettier than her friend, looked about the same age. She had light brown hair, short and curly. “What did you say to me little girl?” the Amazon with the too small nose asked. “I was asleep, I was dreaming,” Emily said, not at all liking the situation she was in. “That’s no excuse,” the other said. “And she hit you.” The first Amazon looked confused for a moment, then looked down at the hand that Emily had pushed away. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. “You’re right. What a naughty little thing you are. No hitting,” she said sternly. “Big girls use their words,” the second Amazon said smugly. “And they don’t have potty mouths.” “Yes, that’s true. I guess I have no choice but to give this naughty little girl a spanking.” “What?” Emily said, suddenly in a nightmare turned real, “no, you can’t.” It was not the right thing to say because Emily knew fully well that the woman could. “Can’t? Little babies don’t tell adults what they can’t do.” This was the sort of situation that Emily had always tried hard to avoid. She could be smart and clever, but once a big got an idea in their head, Emily was in no position to do anything about it. As if to prove that the first Amazon lifted her effortlessly from the chair and stripped the robe from her. Struggle as she might, Emily did not delay the action in the slightest. “Now you naughty little thing,” the woman said as she sat down, pulling Emily over her lap, “you are going to get the punishment you obviously deserve. I’m going to spank the naughty right out of you.” “No, please, don’t. I’ll be good. I didn’t mean to,” Emily begged and babbled. She was afraid of pain, but more so pain she could not control, pain administered by someone else. She was scared of all the things that could happen. She would beg and babble all she could to avoid the pain, but she knew nothing that she could say would stop this woman from administering a spanking. Emily knew she would begin to cry, would sob uncontrollably. Already she could feel tears in her eyes from the fear and approaching dread. Would she lose control of her bladder? She had heard that happened sometimes. She sniffed loudly, almost crying aloud even though not a single slap had fallen on her bottom. She felt the woman shift, pictured that considerable hand lifting into the air above her naked ass. Squeezing her eyes shut she wondered if she could be brave enough to hold out for at least a few slaps. But the hand never fell, and she heard Chase, her voice so cool it went right through Emily. “What do you think you are doing?” “Who are you?” the woman upon whose lap Emily was on asked. “I asked you what you think you are doing.” The voice made Emily shiver, and the woman could not answer. Then Emily felt herself picked up from the woman’s lap and placed on the floor. She was beside Chase. Looking up at the faces of the two woman she could see what she could only assume was fear in their eyes. She did not look up at Chase’s face, afraid of what she might see. “That little girl swore at us,” the second woman said, pointing at Emily. Emily stepped in behind Chase’s legs, hiding behind them. It was humiliating to do so, but she did not want to risk either of those women getting a hold of her again. “Emily?” Chase asked, voice softening a little, but still cold. “I was dreaming, they woke me, I was surprised.” She still hid behind Chase. “I see,” Chase said, voice even softer. The second woman, perhaps not liking the way things were going, said, “She slapped my friend.” The other one nodded. “She did. Such a little brute.” Emily cringed, sure that the spanking she had hoped to avoid was coming, and probably from Chase. Chase surprised her. “Show me the slap mark,” she demanded. The Amazon with the too small nose hid her hands behind her back, looking for a moment like a naughty child. If Emily was not so scared and frazzled, she might have enjoyed that. “It’s faded.” “Hardly,” Chase said. Her voice grew cold again. “Would you like to see what a slap mark looks like?” Both women backed up a step from Chase, and shook their heads, looking, well, Emily had to think, terrified. Chase grabbed Emily’s robe and then delivered one, sharp smack to Emily’s bottom, causing Emily to let out a surprised squeak. Chase then put the robe back on Emily and said as she tired it closed, “Emily, apologise for your rude language to these two ladies.” She put so much scorn into ‘ladies’ Emily was surprised the women didn’t protest. “I’m sorry,” Emily said softly. “Well, I guess…” the first one started. Chase cut her off. “Apologize to Emily for disturbing her sleep.” “What? That’s crazy,” the second woman said, “I won’t…” “Apologize.” That same, cold tone. Emily hoped it was never turned on her. “We’re sorry,” the first woman said. The second one took a step back. “Sorry.” “Good. We’re done.” The two women nearly fled. Chase knelt down, and for the first time Emily looked up at her face. There was no trace of anger on it, thankfully. Chase gently ran her fingers through Emily’s hair. “I think in the future in places like this you should stick close to me.” Emily nodded. Chase stood up. “Let’s go. A manicure and a pedicure will make you feel better.” Emily followed after her, and as embarrassing as it was, stuck close to her. She hated it, but at the moment Chase made her feel safe. Emily had calmed herself down by the time they left the spa. She did not stick so closely to Chase as if afraid someone was going to jump out and grab her. She hoped she did not have nightmares that night. “Other than a little hiccough I think this was an enjoyable day out,” Chase said as she pulled out her key fob and clicked the doors unlocked. “Yes,” Emily agreed. Her skin had a healthy glow, her fingernails and toenails shaped and polished. Her short blonde hair had been neatly trimmed, and she was wearing a bit of subtle makeup. She looked nice, but Chase looked absolutely beautiful. Beautiful and powerful, Emily thought. If only she could see me as an adult, I would love to work with her. Chase picked her up, put her in the child seat, strapped her in, then closed the door and went to get in the driver’s seat. As she started the car up Chase asked, “You know Lyle Redmond of course.” Emily was a little surprised, and it was a moment before she answered, “I do, but not personally.” Chase drove away from the spa. “He’s having a party this coming Saturday. Would you like to go?” “What? I… I thought you did not want him or anyone to know I was working for you.” “Well, I would not introduce you as Emily Black.” Emily frowned. She felt she owed Chase for saving her, but only to a certain point. “Who would you introduce me as?” “EmEm,” she said after a moment. “And no one will ask your last name.” Emily made a little noise of displeasure at that. “I don’t want to go.” Chase said nothing for a short time as she navigated through some traffic. “I could have let her spank you, you know.” Emily stiffened in her child seat. Chase continued. “I could have simply let her spank you until you were sobbing and inconsolable and then come and saved you.” Emily did not answer immediately as she thought about that, what it would have been like. “You could have,” Emily agreed. “Thank you for not doing that.” “And,” Chase continued, “sobbing as you were, near panic, I would have taken you to my home, just to make sure you were okay. And you would not have argued.” “That’s probably true,” Emily admitted. “And once you were in my home, still sobbing and scared, clinging to me as you would be, do you think I would ever let you go back to that apartment?” Emily sighed. “I’ll go with you.” “Oh, will you? How nice.” “No diapers,” Emily said, thought she suspected she would not have a choice in that if Chase decided otherwise. “Of course,” Chase said. “You’ll wear that sailor dress you love. And I’ll send you home before the evening celebrations. Not that I think Lyle would not have a roll in crib ready if one were needed.” “I appreciate that.” “We’ll have fun,” Chase said. Emily knew Chase was smiling. Damn. Emily wished that the Thursday and Friday would drag by, anything to put off the stupid party. Chase, on the other hand, could hardly wait. However, Friday afternoon, a few hours before she would take Emily back to her Apartment (so she could pick up her new dress from Linda), she was presented with a somewhat annoying problem. Though she could not really call it a problem. She was seated at her desk, looking over several printouts. Someone rapped at her door, and she called, "come in." “Afternoon,” Richard said as he came in, carrying a file. “We just got confirmation from 3T. You made a good impression on their CFO it seems.” He was smiling. “We share common interests,” Chase said, with no real animation. “Something bothering you.” Chase handed him the printout. Richard looked at it for a moment, flipping through the pages. “A software vendor is offering us money?” “A lot of money.” “Why?” “John showed Emily, the customer relationship software we purchased last year.” “The software we spent a lot of money on and has never worked right?” “That’s the stuff. Emily wrote a patch and fixed it.” “Creepy,” John said, drawing out the ‘ee’ sound. Chase laughed, smiling. “A little. Anyway, John let the vendor know they could cancel the trouble tickets we had opened as the software was working.” “What did they think of that?” “Once he had shown them it was working they asked for the patches.” “And he said?” “They would have talk to me.” “And you said?” “I told them to piss up a rope.” Richard laughed. “Then they offered money. And, to forestall your question, I told them they had been maltreating us for the last year, and they were getting nothing from us.” “And now the licensing offer?” She nodded. “John suspects they have a lot of angry clients who are having the same issues as us.” Richard looked at the document again. “That is a lot of zeros.” “A lot,” she agreed. “You know, as hard as it is to say this, maybe you had better give up your idea of putting Emily in a nursery. I mean,” he gave the paper a shake, “she’s turning out to be the goose that lays the golden eggs.” “I know. And now you know what is bothering me.” “Most of the world would kill to have your problems.” Chase nodded. “What can I say. I’m a selfish woman.” “You going to Lyle’s party tomorrow?” he asked her. “I am. You?” “I got an invitation. I’m going to do some networking.” “Good.” “So are you taking Emily?” “She is my plus one.” “And you get to show her off.” Chase nodded. “I do indeed.” Saturday morning. Emily woke early. She was nervous. Felt a little ill. She wondered if she could claim the flu or something and beg off the party? No. That would not work. Chase would just have her at that stupid clinic, and that would be worse than the party. She assumed. Sitting at her kitchen table, drinking some coffee she had just made, Emily wished she could just go back to sleep. She had not gotten as much rest lately, with all her work, and she was having bad dreams since seeing Catherine and more so since the almost spanking. One more week, she thought, taking a gulp of the hot coffee. Just one more week and everything will be decided. One way or another. For a time Emily did some work, watching the clock. Chase was to arrive at 10, and Emily wanted about half an hour to get ready. At 9:30 Emily showered, afterwards dried her hair with a towel. The stylist at the spa had cut it so that, when dry, it seemed to almost float about her head, looking like a soft halo that begged to be touched. She like her old short hairstyle better, achieved using a pair of scissors and about ten minutes of her time. Next, she put on the sailor dress, which had been left untouched in her closet, except for the undergarments, which had been laundered. It was about five minutes to ten when she put on her shoes, grabbed her purse, and left her apartment, locking it behind her. Quickly down to the front of the building, just to make sure that no one saw her. She peeked out the doors, making sure the area was empty--she did not want to meet up with some random big. She had treated her neighbours at Sharky’s the night before, she assumed most of them were still asleep. Stepping out, she looked up and down the street, looking for Chase’s car. It was not the SUV that she saw a few minutes later, but a large, black limousine. It pulled up in front of the building. The large passenger door swung open, and Chase stepped out. She was wearing a sundress, with a jacket, similar in colour to the sailor dress Emily wore. Obviously Linda’s creation. “Emily dear, you look better and better each time I see you in that outfit.” “You’ve only seen me in it twice,” Emily said, a little petulantly. Chase smiled. “Well, now I want to see you in it more often.” Walked right into that one, Emily thought. The chauffeur had gotten out of the car, went to the trunk, made a big production of getting a child seat out. “Put that facing towards me, I want to talk to my little EmEm.” “Yes ma’am,” he said as he put the seat in place. Once it was in place the Chauffeur went back to the front of the car, and Chase picked Emily up, the sudden rush into the air making Emily cry out softly, and then put her into the seat. “Such a bother,” Chase said, “trying to keep your pretty outfit from getting too wrinkled.” Emily almost suggested they could eschew the child’s seat. As Chase did up the straps, she said, “Next time we’ll let you travel in your underwear and put your outfit on you when we arrive.” Emily blushed at that thought. Once Emily was strapped in Chase got in and closed the door, sitting directly across from Emily. She smiled down at her. “Off we go.” The car started forward. “Now EmEm, make sure you tell me if you need to go potty. Since you are not wearing a diaper, we don’t want you ruining your pretty dress.” Emily’s cheeks grew warm, and she said, “That won’t be a problem.” “I know,” Chase said, still smiling, “because you’ll let me know if you have to go potty.” Emily nodded. “Yes Miss Morgan.” They spoke during the drive, mostly about the business and the work that Emily was doing. It would have been a rather enjoyable drive if she had not been sitting in a child’s seat and Chase had not kept asking if she needed to use the potty every time they were about to pass a rest stop. They reached the mansion of Lyle Redmond a little after noon, the car pulling up into a line of similar vehicles. The chauffeur came out and opened the door for Chase. Chase released the straps on the child’s seat and lifted Emily out, putting her on the sidewalk leading up to the front of the enormous house. Chase reached into the car for both her and Emily’s bags. She handed Emily her bag and said to the driver, “Be back around 4 to pick Emily up.” “Yes ma’am,” the driver said. Chase took Emily’s free hand in her own and led her towards the house. They passed other people, some with children, and some with littles, all of whom were walking in the same direction. Most of the bigs and inbetweeners were dressed in business casual. The children and the littles were outfitted in variations of party clothing, play clothing, or some sort of semi-uniform looking type outfit similar to Emily’s sailor dress. Closer, Emily got a better look at the house. It was a three-story mansion, with tall columns in front of it, and many windows. The front of the house faced the south, a set of steps led up to the double doors. Close by, to the east, was a garage. To the west, farther from the house, were a few buildings; a barn and what Emily guessed was probably stables. No one, Chase and herself included, were going into the house, but circling around it, out into the back. There was a competition-sized pool, playground equipment, a sports field of some sort out back. There were also several large tents, looking to be recently set up, and through the gap of people, Emily thought she saw a small band. Chase, still holding her hand, led her towards where it seemed people were gathering. “Miss Morgan,” someone said. Chase stopped to look towards the speaker. Emily looked around Chase as well. The woman who had called her was dressed more business than casual, carrying a clipboard with her. “You’re Mr Redmond’s assistant,” Chase said. “Yes,” the woman said, looking pleased. “You helped me change Min.” “I remember,” Chase said. “How is little Min?” “Butterflies in her stomach and bees in her diaper,” the woman said with a laugh. “Nervous and spanked,” Chase said with an approving nod. It’s like she wants me to get angry at her, Emily thought. “She was acting up a little, so Mr Remond warmed her bottom a little. I’m Doris Mann by the way.” “Dorris,” Chase said, and then looked down at Emily. “This is EmEm.” Dorris looked down at her. “Oh, she’s so adorable.” Chase was smiling. “Perhaps EmEm could play with Lyle’s little girls?” Chase suggested. No way in hell, Emily thought. “Oh, I’m afraid that the girls are getting ready for… well, it is a surprise.” “And the cause of the butterflies?” Dorris nodded. “Well, perhaps another time,” Chase said. Dorris was looking Emily, and smiled and nodded, then gave herself a little shake. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot what I wanted to talk to you about. Mr Redmond was hoping you two could speak.” “I’d be happy to. Where is he?” “I’m afraid something suddenly came up. Business. He’s not going to be free until this evening. He hopes you will enjoy this afternoon and be able to speak with him later.” Chase did not answer immediately, and Emily noticed the slightly nervous look on Dorris’ face. Then Chase nodded. “That will be fine.” Dorris visibly relaxed. “Thank you.” Emily wondered why she was so nervous. Would Lyle punish her if Chase did not stay? Perhaps, even though a big, a spanking and a diaper was not out of the question? Emily could not help but giggle at the thought. The giggle made both Chase and Dorris look down at her. Dorris bent over to bring her head closer to Emily’s. “EmEm, if you want you can go and play in the playground.” She smiled. Emily looked over at the playground. She could already see the giant children were making life miserable for the littles there and was pretty sure that it would get worse. “No,” she said. Usually, a little flat out stating ‘no’ to a giant was a recipe for trouble, and Emily knew that, but she would not go into that playground willingly. Chase defused any potential problems by laughing and saying “EmEm is such a mommy’s girl. At her wits ends if I am not close. Isn’t that right EmEm?” Chase was looking down at her expectantly, and Emily knew there was only one response that would keep her out of the hell that the playground could become. “Yes Mommy,” she said softly. “Aw, so cute,” Dorris said and reached out to ruffle Emily’s hair. Straightening Dorris said, “Enjoy the party, Miss Morgan.” She left. Chase was smiling down at Emily. Emily felt her cheeks growing warm. “Sure you don’t want to go and play?” Emily shook her head and said, “Yes I’m sure.” Chase lifted an eyebrow. Emily sighed as her cheeks grew warmer, “Yes I am sure Mommy.” I really do hate her. Chase wondered if she could find a way to have Emily continue to call her mommy at work. It would be nice, but as long as Emily was an employee, it would not be professional. Which really meant she had to make Emily stop being an employee. She led Emily into one of the large tents, where tables nearly groaned under the weight of the food the caterers were lying atop them. “Would you like something to eat EmEm?” Chase asked. “No thank you, I’m not hungry,” Emily said, and then after a second added, “mommy.” Like pulling teeth with this girl Chase thought. Surely there had to be an easier way. Spankings and bottle feedings she guessed, but as enjoyable as that could be, she would wait on it. “Stay close EmEm,” Chase told her as she let go of her hand. She trusted the memory of the almost spanking at the spa would keep Emily on her figurative apron strings. Picking up a plate she moved among the tables, putting various delicacies on it, then filled a tall glass with a non-alcoholic punch. Emily was almost on her heels as Chase left the tent. She found a small table with a few chairs set around it, all currently deserted. She put the plate and glass on the table and then picked up Emily and took a seat on the chair, settling Emily firmly in her lap. Emily let out a small squeak in surprise when first picked up, and Chase asked, “Isn’t this nice EmEm?” “No,” Emily said softly. “No what?” “No, it is not nice Miss Morgan.” Chase sighed. “I really should have let that woman spank you.” Emily did not say anything. Chase reached onto the table and took a panini from the plate and tore a small piece off. “A piece for mommy,” she said, and the put it in her mouth. As she chewed and swallowed, she tore another piece off. “And one for EmEm,” she said, holding the food in front of Emily. Emily sighed and opened her mouth. Chase continued, and had gotten through about half the plate when someone said, “What an adorable little girl.” Chase looked towards the speaker, a pretty enough woman, a little chubby perhaps, a tall inbetweener or a short Amazon. She was well dressed, too formally perhaps, but Chase guessed it was an excuse to wear expensive jewellery. “Thank you,” Chase said, and then, “EmEm, what do you say?” “Thank you, ma’am.” “Oh so sweet,” the woman said, stepping closer. “Are you sharing mommy’s food?” “Yes ma’am,” Emily said. Chase could feel Emily tense slightly and knew that she was not enjoying the attention. The woman looked up at Chase. “I’ve heard it is better that they eat food meant specifically for littles. Breast milk is often said to be the best.” Chase felt Emily bristle. She answered with a smile, “I’ve heard that too. Do you have children…” she let the question trail off. “Kim, Kim Julian, and no, I don’t, but I am hoping maybe soon.” “Chase Morgan,” Chase said in introduction and kept Emily in her lap as she held out at hand. Kim took it for a quick, fingertip shake. Not a confident handshake at all, Chase thought. “Chase Morgan?” Kim asked. “Of Morgan and Stone?” Chase nodded. “Yes.” “Oh my,” she said, smiling. “My husband was just talking about you this morning.” “Your husband?” “Paul Julian, of Evertech.” Chase nodded, recognising the name. “Yes, I know of him.” “He was hoping to talk to you.” She looked about excitedly. “Could I impose on you to wait here for a moment? I’ll see if I can find him.” “Of course,” Chase said. “I will be right back,” she said with a dip of her head and then she rushed off. Chase tore a small pastry in half, ate one piece and put the other part in Emily’s open mouth. “What do you know about Evertech little EmEm?” Chase asked after she swallowed. “What would little EmEm know about a company?” Emily asked her tone a mix of innocence and bitterness. “Now EmEm, if you want to be Emily Black I’ll make a point of introducing you to Lyle as that. Let him know how you have been fooling him.” She thought she could feel Emily’s skin grow warm and in a more polite tone she said, “I‘ve done some work for them, I think they are looking to expand rapidly.” “What sort of work?” “Confidentiality agreement,” Emily told her. It was a fair answer, Chase thought. She would not want Emily doing anything illegal, anything that might result in her losing her hold on the little. “Anything else you can tell me that will not break that agreement?” Emily did not answer immediately, and Chase took a moment to pop another bit of food into the little’s mouth. “They are trying to buy resource companies, agricultural. That’s obvious if you look, nothing they told me. New pharmaceuticals if you ask me.” Chase nodded, took a drink of her punch, then held the glass to Emily’s lips so she could drink. For a moment she thought she might shift the glass, cause a spill on Emily’s white dress. She decided not to ruin a dress as lovely as the one Linda made. She had put Emily back on the ground in front of her and was wiping Emily's face with the cloth napkin (not that she needed it) when Kim returned with her husband. Chase stood to meet him. Paul had to be a foot taller than her, and she did not want to be looking up at him from a seated position. “See, I found her,” Kim said. Paul smiled at his wife. “Good girl,” he said, giving her a quick hug. Chase suddenly wondered about the tall big and his chubby inbetweener wife. Seeing them together she could suddenly see Kim in a dress, similar to Emily’s, calling her husband ‘daddy’. She had heard about relationships like that. Perhaps the reason they did not have children was that Kim was the child. Paul approached her, hand extended, and Chase put those thoughts aside. Chase took his extended hand. Confident handshake. “Miss Morgan, Paul Julian. Pleased to meet you.” “The pleasure is mine,” Chase told him. He let go of her hand, indicated the seats around the table. Chase took a seat, put Emily at her feet. Paul pulled back a chair for his wife and then took a seat as well. “We have a common problem, Miss Morgan,” he said, “and you apparently found the solution.” “Oh?” “Customer relationship program has not worked, but apparently you fixed it.” Chase smiled as she reached down and gave Emily’s head a pat. “That does seem to be the case.” “Damned impressive. We’ve been stuck with that overpriced failware for a year and a half.” He looked about and then asked, voice a little lower, “Don’t suppose you could send my people that fix?” Chase shook her head. “I’m afraid that I can’t. I am being offered a very generous fee to not do that.” Paul nodded. “Understandable. I would do the same thing in your place. Were you working with them on this fix?” “No.” “And would you be willing to state that, legally?” “I probably would.” Paul smiled and nodded. “I can probably go after them on that, complete failure to address the issues in good faith. Get some of the costs refunded.” “I wish you luck,” Chase told him. “Thank you. You know, I never really saw Morgan and Stone as a tech company. Is that changing?” Chase smiled. “Who knows?” He laughed. “Playing your cards close to your chest. I like that. I might be able to use your company, as a public relationship, advertising firm. Any tech you might bring after the fact would be a welcome bonus.” “I would certainly be willing to speak about that. Richard Stone is around here somewhere.” “Excellent. You know, you should come and visit Kim and me sometime.” His eyes shifted to Emily. “You are of course welcome to bring your little girl.” “Thank you, but EmEm can be naughty at times and does not always get to go on trips.” “Yes, I know how little girls can be naughty.” Chase noted his gaze shifted momentarily to his wife. If not for her earlier thoughts she might have missed it, but she was confident that she knew who wore the diapers in their house. Had Emily been a child, or even most littles, she might have been bored out of her mind. As it was, seated in Chase’s lap, listening to the business talk, was extremely interesting. She had to be careful not to show too much curiosity, or make suggestions, which she had a lot of. The two hours listening to Chase, Richard and Paul speak was great. If anyone seemed bored and fussy, it was Kim, and about half an hour into the talk Paul suggested she wander around. She left happily. Her chair as soon filled by another influential big, interested in the talk happening. Finally, Chase called the meeting to an end. “I need to take Emily to the potty,” she said, “and I think that Lyle’s entertainment will be beginning soon. I want to see it.” Thomas Aster, an owner of a computer company, a man who had joined them about an hour before, looked at his watch and said, “Have we really been talking this long?” “Good conversation makes things pass fast,” Richard said. Chase stood, placing Emily on the ground, taking her hand. “I am sure we will continue this conversation.” As they walked across the lawn, toward the house, Chased asked, “What does EmEm think?” “There is a lot of opportunity,” Emily told her. “There certainly is.” Just outside of the house a temporary but spotless and well-made set of bathrooms had been set up. Chase took her into one of the small rooms with a toilet, a duck-shaped potty chair, a change table and a sink. Chase picked her up and sat her on the change table. “What…” Emily started, feeling her heartbeat speed up with fear. Chase went to the sink, soaked some paper towels and then returned to wipe Emily’s face and hands. She stood back and looked her over, nodded, and then said, “Can you use the potty or would you like a diaper?” Emily realised that those were the only options she was being given. Suggesting that she might go into a bathroom on her own would not fly. “I’ll use the potty please.” Chase smiled and with a quick motion removed the sailor dress, leaving Emily in just her underwear. “We don’t want you getting your dress messy,” she said. She then put Emily down by the potty chair, pulled her tights and panties down, then put her on the yellow plastic chair. Standing there, looking down at her, Chase smiled and said, “Do your business for mommy.” Emily flushed, but this was not the first time she had been in such a position, and she was not going to let embarrassment let her end up in a diaper. So she did her ‘business’, but she was doing it for herself. Afterwards, Chase praised her, cleaned her and put her back in her dress. All quick and efficient giving her little time to protest or think about it. And she was glad she had no time to think about it because she did not want to, not then. Once more her hands were washed by Chase, and they left the bathrooms. Chase led her back towards the party, circling around the tents, towards the playground. There were a lot of people around, so Emily was not sure what was happening. Then Chase suddenly lifted her up into her arms, putting Emily on her hip, giving the little a much better view. There was a round stage set up off to the side of the playground, and several musicians were setting up around it. Emily supposed this was the entertainment. As she watched the musicians took their seats and began to play. The crowd grew quiet, more attention turned to the stage. Emily spotted Dorris walking towards the stage, and then the five small forms following after her. Lyle Redmond’s 5 adopted daughters, each wearing a leotard and a tutu in different shades of pink, with white tights, pulled up over thick diapers. Emily watched them, each waddling a little, as they were led up on the stage, put on display. Each of them a young woman who had been reduced to a ridiculous toddlerhood at the whim of a man who had money, power and size. Dorris stepped off the stage and the girls sorted themselves out. When the musicians changed the tune, the littles began to dance. The bigs around her seemed enchanted by the display, watching, condescending smiles and soft comments. Part of Emily wanted to look away, but part of her could not help but look on with rapt attention, It was like a disaster in that she knew she should not watch, but could not take her gaze from it. The girls, no, think of them as women, Emily told herself, danced well. Their movements spoke of a great deal of practice. The thick diapers made them a little clumsy, however, which made them seem uncertain, as if they were still not sure of their limbs, like actual toddlers. It was cruel. “They say,” Chase said into her ear, “the ballet is the best activity for littles. Do you know why?” “Because tutus and diapers are a combination bigs like?” Emily asked, tone more waspish than she had intended as her anger got the best of her. Chase did not seem upset. She smiled and said, “Very good, tutus and diapers do look very cute together.” Her tone was the same one adults used for children that had stated something so obvious that it was stupid. It made Emily feel stupid. “However,” Chase continued, “it is an excellent form of exercise, to help littles stay healthy and to keep them from getting fat. A little chubby is fine of course.” “Of course,” Emily said, tone sharp. Chase laughed. “And it is in no way competitive, and not a roughhouse activity. It is a nice, gentle pastime.” “And there is no way, no matter how good they get, they could become professional,” Emily said the last in a tired tone of voice as if she could no longer hold on to her anger. “I suppose there is that,” Chase said, but Emily knew she did not get it. Her thoughts were probably more on why a ‘properly’ cared for little would need to do anything in a professional capacity. After about a minute of watching Chase said, “You know what, I think you…” “I’m not taking ballet,” Emily said. “I think you should,” Chase said. “It will be good exercise.” “I already get enough exercise.” “Do you? Since you started working for me?” Emily opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. She really had not been exercising as much as she once had. “See. Ballet will be good for you.” “I’m not taking ballet,” Emily said again. Chase sighed. “Well then, perhaps you should go to the clinic, once a week, for vitamin shots and a full check-up.” Once more Chase was offering her two options, neither of which was particularly desirable, but one better than the other. “I’m not wearing a tutu. Track pants and a sweatshirt.” Chase frowned. “Tights, and a t-shirt.” “Leggings.” “I pick the t-shirt.” “Fine,” Emily said, knowing she would regret it but supposing she was winning as much as she could. “I’ll see if there is a studio close by, if not I’ll arrange for an instructor to come into the office.” Emily had to admit that Chase was pretty free with her money. It was almost flattering. The dance recital ended and each girl was made to bow around in a circle, flashing their diapered bottoms to everyone in the process. Emily watched, a sick feeling in her stomach as she realised she could be in a similar situation if her plan to win free of Chase did not work. Chase put her down, led Emily towards the stage where people were gathering to congratulate the girls on their performance. Chase put her in front of each of the other littles, so she could be introduced. Min, Tiffy, Kitty, Dot and Isa, were their names and she had to tell them each how pretty they had danced. Dot and Isa looked as embarrassed as Emily felt, while Min, Tiffy and Kitty seemed pleased by the praise and Min said she wanted a dress just like Emily’s. As Chase led her away, Emily wondered if Min had really meant that or if she was just a terrific actor. “They all seemed happy,” Chase said. Emily did not reply. She would be willing to argue that point for Dot and Isa (were those really their names?) but she supposed it might be true for the other three. That was not something she wanted to think on. Chase had led her into the playground and put her on one of the swings and began pushing her. Emily had always liked swings. The simple act of swinging back and forth, the small drop of her stomach at the top ends of the arc. It had been a long time since she had last swung on one. An adult inbetweener or big could swing anytime they wanted, and it was just whimsy, a little on a swing was something different. She stopped trying not to enjoy herself. Just because she liked a swing that did not make her a baby. Screaming, ‘higher, higher’ might have, so she did not. Chase seemed content to push her for a time, probably watching all the other littles and children playing. Chase eventually picked her off the swing and said, “Your ride will be here soon EmEm. Let’s get you something to eat and then we’ll take you to the potty before you leave.” “Yes mommy,” Emily said because there were people around. Chase strapped Emily into the car seat and then said to the chauffeur, “Make sure you stop at least twice so she can go potty.” “Yes ma’am.” “I don’t need potty… bathroom breaks.” Chase smiled and leaned into the car, kissed Emily on the forehead, smiled at the scowl that crossed her face. “I don’t want that dress ruined,” she told her. “If you had been willing to wear a diaper you wouldn’t need the potty stops. Now be a good girl for the driver, and I will see you Monday.” She stepped back and closed to door. “Drive carefully,” she told the chauffeur. “Yes ma’am,” he answered, and handed her a small bag he had taken from the trunk. She watched as the limousine drove off, joining a stream of other cars leaving, children and littles being sent home, a few bigs and inbetweeners departing as well. She walked back to party set up, noticed that a few tents were being taken down, a bar was being put out. Caters were setting out snacks for people, though the proper dinner was still a few hours off. She wanted to find a place where she could freshen up, and change into the clothing she had brought with her. There must be a lounge or something that was being made available. “Chase Morgan,” she heard the familiar voice of Lyle call. “Hello Lyle,” she said as she turned towards him. “Thank you for inviting me.” “You’re welcome, I like to show off after all.” Chase smiled. “Enjoy yourself so far?” “Yes.” “My assistant said you had a pretty little with you.” He looked about. “I’ve sent her home.” “Too bad,” he said with a smile. “It was getting late for her.” “I know. I’m having my girls put to bed right now. Would you like to see?” “Yes. I was quite impressed with their dancing.” “They’ve been practising.” “It shows.” He nodded and led her into the house, pointing out various rooms as they went. “I plan to entertain a lot.” “Like some kind of lord,” Chase said. He looked back at her, perhaps wondering if it was an insult. “A little, I suppose.” Chase decided she would never go for anything so grand. They reached a large nursery where Dorris Mann and two other women were getting the five little girls ready for bed. As soon as Lyle entered the girls waddled about, at least two of the giggling, to line up. All five wore footed sleepers, each a different shade of pink; their bottoms wrapped in thick diapers. One of the girls, Tiffy, stepped forward, looked up at Lyle. “Do we have to go to bed daddy?” Chase thought that, like Min, her high voice was sweet, but did not seem genuine. “Are you arguing Tiffy?” he asked. She shook her head. “No daddy, but we want to stay up for the party,” she said, nearly whining. Chase wondered if she was supposed to be winsome; if so she was failing. She thought that Emily would have done it better. “Is this true?” Lyle asked, looking towards all the girls. Chase was impressed that they did not turn over on Tiffy, though none of them said anything, just nodding. Lyle shook his head. “You had a busy day girls, and the party is for grownups. Now, do any of you think you are grownups?” Tiffy shook her head, but from the line, Dot looked defiant, well, as defiant as a little in footed sleepers could. Lyle stepped forward and scooped up Dot. “Does Dot think she is a big girl?” he asked with a laugh. The other littles relaxed slightly. Dot said, “I don’t want to go to bed so early.” Lyle popped the snaps on the crotch of her rompers and reached a hand into her diaper. “Do you think that someone who's in a wet diaper should be able to stay up as late as they want.” Dot blushed. “Well Dot?” She shook her head, and said, “No daddy.” “Good girl,” he said, and carried her over to a crib and placed her into it. “Give daddy a kiss,” he told her, leaning into the crib. She kissed his cheek. He kissed her on the forehead. “Sleep tight.” He then returned and picked up each of the littles, putting them in a crib, getting and giving a kiss. Chase thought it was sweet. When they left the nursery, the lights going dark behind them Lyle told Dorris, “Make sure Dot and Tiffy don’t get a diaper change tonight.” “Yes Mr Redmond.” He and Chase left the family wing behind, climbed the stairs to the second floor, opened the doors onto a balcony. “They are all adorable,” Chase said, because they were, but not as adorable as Emily. He nodded with a smile. “They are an important part of my life. But, let’s put that aside and talk business. I want to buy your company.” “It’s not for sale,” Chase said. “Does Richard think the same?” “I hold the majority control, but I’ll ask him. If he wants to sell, we’ll talk.” “I’ll leave you in charge if that helps.” “I’d be working for you.” “I’m a good boss.” “You would say that.” Lyle laughed. “Well, admittedly I do think highly of myself, but my employees seem happy enough.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” “You’re getting bigger, which means we might actually start competing. You’d not do well in that situation.” “Why Mr Redmond, that almost seems like a challenge.” “I suppose it does, but seriously Chase, you don’t want to swim with the big fish.” Chase nodded, but she was pretty sure she did want to swim with the big fish. She was even more certain she wanted to be the biggest fish. Lyle looked at her bag. “There is a lounge downstairs, close to where we entered. Washroom where you can change if you want.” “Thank you,” Chase said. She left him behind on the balcony, a lord looking out over his holdings. He was not taking her seriously. Chase planned to show him the error of his ways. It was getting dark when the limousine dropped her off. It had taken longer to get back as the driver had made several stops so she could ‘use the potty’. Now he escorted her up to her room, saw her safely within before leaving. Emily undressed, careful to hang the dress she hoped to never wear again up in the closet. Then, putting on a pair of ratty jeans and a t-shirt she went to work. She checked her plan first, transferred funds from her rapidly diminishing savings and then ran some transactions. Almost there, she thought. That done she turned her attention to new projects. She had spent a few hours sitting among several powerful people, all speaking about fascinating things, none of them, except maybe Chase, considering she was listening to everything that was being said. And most of them said more then they realised. Emily began to put together her notes, researched what she had, and ran some simulations. She had been working for about an hour when she sat back and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Why was she doing this, she wondered. Then she understood. She was doing it for Chase. There were times, not often, and never lasting more than a few seconds, when the Amazon forgot Emily was a little, when Chase treated her like an equal. Emily did not kid herself that that meant anything, that that somehow made her safe, but she had to admit, now that she thought about it, that she liked it. Her mind turned back to earlier that day, when Chase had sat her on the change table. She had been scared, still felt her heart speed up a little, for she had almost been sure that she had lost, that Chase was going to put a diaper on her and make her a baby. She had not, but after the potty, when Chase had cleaned her, touched her between her legs, as innocent as it had been, Emily had felt something. She had not thought about it then. She thought about it now. “I am attracted to Chase Morgan,” she said aloud. It was ridiculous of course. Chase saw her as a someone who needed to be cared for, who could not be trusted to take care of herself. In that relationship, Emily would always be the lesser. No matter in what intimate way Chase might touch her (even if it was like her old RA Nelly who had often played what she had called ‘making cummies in your diaper’) to the Amazon it would be positive reinforcement. Something to make a little like the treatment instead of anything even close to love between equals. But for what was hopefully her last week she was going to try to cultivate those moments, when she could pretend for a few seconds that there could be something between her and Chase. There was no harm in it. It might just be a crush, it probably was. There were a lot of reasons to be attracted to Chase, but an equal number of reasons to have nothing to do with her. It was complicated. She sat back up and returned to her work. A few minutes later someone knocked on her door. She thought for a moment it was Chase, come to see why she was not in bed, but Emily dismissed that. It was, in fact, Gus, standing out in front of her apartment. She opened the door. “What’s up Gus?” “Wanna come down to Sharky’s? We’re having a bit of bash to celebrate no news is good news.” His tone was light, but she could see that he was worried. Emily looked back at her computer. The work could wait until tomorrow. “Sure.” On Monday morning Emily came in, ready for the last week, to stand against any attempt on Chase part to put her back in the nursery. All she needed was a little more time to let her plan come to fruition. So she immediately handed Chase the report she had written over the weekend. “What is this EmEm?” Chase asked with a smile. “Some colouring to put up on my fridge?” Emily took a deep breath. “Keep it up, and I won’t give you the electronic research that completes it.” Chase frowned and opened the report. She flipped through a few pages. “Have a seat, Miss Black, we have a great deal to work on today.” Emily smiled smugly, though was careful Chase did not see it. They spent most of the day going over the report and the research, and it would have been a pleasant enough day, but Chase, of course, had to ruin it. About an hour after lunch (they had ordered in, Chase had eaten some of Emily’s pad thai to prove it was safe) Chase said, “I’ve had Lisa look into ballet studios.” Emily bit down on her reply and instead said, “Oh?” as if it had nothing to do with her. “Unfortunately there are none close enough.” “It is an expensive neighbourhood.” Chase smiled. “However I found a teacher who is willing to come by twice a week over the lunch hour.” “How fortuitous,” Emily said, her tone skirting sarcasm. “Fortuitous?” “It means…” “I know what it means Emily,” Chase told her, tone hard enough that Emily knew she had pushed things a little too far. “I’m surprised you do.” “Really?” Emily asked, exasperated. “You’ve been reading a report that I wrote, and you don’t think I know what fortuitous means?” Chase looked down at the report, a curious look on her face. “It’s different,” she finally said. “How is it different.” “This was written by Miss Black.” “I am Miss Black.” “You are, and you aren’t.” She reached out and ruffled Emily’s hair. “Understand.” Emily wanted to say ‘I understand all you bigs are insane, and I can only assume it is due to breathing so much thin air,’ but instead, she said, “Some things are too hard for me to understand.” Which gave Chase the opening to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you with all the things that make you all confusey woozy.” Emily shook her head and reached for the report. “Here are the details of the latest acquisitions and the patterns we can use to predict their next move,” she said as if the previous exchange had not happened. Chase laughed and then asked, “You have your leggings ready?” Emily sighed, realising she was going to have to play Chase’s game. “Yes.” “Are they pretty pink?” “They are black,” Emily told her. “Black?” “Lots of leggings are black.” “Pink is nicer,” Chase teased. “Black is fine,” Emily said, each word pronounced sharply. “You’re not going through a goth phase are you Emily?” Chase looked up at her ceiling. “I’m not sure where I could find black diapers.” “You don’t need to find black diapers.” “That’s right,” Chase said, looking back at Emily. “Lisa told me you like pink.” Emily put her head in her hands. “Kill me.” “Explain the patterns please,” Chase said all business again. Emily took her head from her hands, nodded and reached for a page. “If you look at the graphs…” Tuesday was the day of the first ballet class. Emily brought a small gym bag with her, within leggings, a change of undergarments and a t-shirt, packed in hopes that Chase would forget their ‘agreement.’ Chase was busy, so she ended up in John’s office, discussing how to package their patch. “You’re sure they won’t be able to decompile this, get their hands on your code?” “Trust me, they are not going to be able to get into it. It’s as perfect a blackbox as I can code.” “I’ll admit that I can’t get at it, but they will likely have some hotshot coders on staff.” “If they had hotshot coders on staff I would not have had to come up with a fix for their problem.” John laughed. “Good point.” There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” John called. Lisa came into the office. “Hello John.
 “Hey Lisa,” he said. Both of them speaking with a familiarity that spoke of a good working relationship. “What’s up?” “Emily’s ballet lesson is going to start in about ten minutes. I need to make sure she is going to be ready.” That might be the last time John was going to be able to look at her as anything other than a brilliant little, but still a little, Emily thought. “Of course. I’ll see you after your class, Emily.” “Sure,” Emily said. She did not complain about it, hoping she might yet salvage her working relationship with him. “You could change in the change room downstairs,” Lisa said as she let Emily towards the elevators, “but I’ll take you to Miss Morgan’s office. It will be a little quicker, and she left your t-shirt for you.” In Chase’s office, she changed into her stretchy, black, nylon leggings, and the t-shirt. Pink, with white lettering on the front. ‘Keep Calm and Carry Me’. “Real nice Chase,” she said, putting on the t-shirt. “Come along,” Lisa called, “I’ll take you to the class.” Lisa looked at her when she came out of the office. “Do you want me to carry you?” she asked with a smile. “I’ll pass.” “The shirt makes a compelling argument though.” “I can take it off. I have a plain white one. Will that help?” “You are no fun,” Lisa said, turning away from her. Emily left out a small sigh of relief. That could have gone wrong in so many ways. She should know better than to bait bigs. The class was in a large meeting room, almost an auditorium, on the seventh floor. The table and chairs had been pushed back, to give the students room to move. Emily was a little surprised when she came into the room and found out she was not alone. Three young women had come for the ‘exercise’, and there were some of the kids from the daycare, including Becky. Mary was there to watch the children, as well as the little male who had been dressed like a toddler when Emily had last seen him in the daycare. All the children from the daycare were dressed nearly identically, in short-sleeved leotards and tutus, including the little. She wondered if the daycare had had the clothing on hand or if the parents had sent it. She also wondered why there were making the little dress the same as the girls. It seemed pointlessly mean to her. He was already in a diaper. Part of her wanted to get close to him, not that she could help him, just to see if he was one of those littles that had accepted their new life. She did not, however. She did not want to discover he needed help she could not give. She did not want to discover he had given up and accepted it all. She did not want anyone asking if she wanted to wear pretty clothing like that. “Mary, can you keep an eye on Emily?” Lisa asked. “Sure,” Mary said. Emily was careful not to let her emotions show, because she knew it would look like she was pouting. “Thanks,” Lisa said to Mary as she left. A moment later Chase came into the room, escorting an older woman, about half a head shorter than Chase. “Mrs Evans, these are your students,” she said. Mrs Evans, dressed in a black leotard, with tights, a long-sleeved, flannel shirt over it, looked over the students. “Thank you, Miss Morgan,” Mrs Evans said with an accent that Emily was willing to bet was fake. “Mary, if Mrs Evans needs anything, please give her a hand.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Mary was being given a lot of extra duties, Emily thought. “I will see you later Mrs Evans,” Chase said, pausing before she left to look towards Emily. She winked and then was gone. “Get in a line students, tallest on the right smallest on the left,” Mrs Evans said. The three women laughed as they took a position on the right. Mary moved about, taking the children by their shoulders and putting them into their places. Emily was near the end of the line, between Becky and another actual child who was just a touch shorter than Emily (though Emily knew the girl would be taller soon enough, children grew fast). “Ballet is an art, and one I take seriously,” Mrs Evans said in her faux accent, walking down the line. “But it is also a fine form of exercise, and that is what I will be focusing on. Perhaps some of the younger students might one day…” She stopped in front of Emily, looking down at her. Emily looked back up at her, not liking Mrs Evans at all. “Why is she not in a diaper?” “That’s what I want to know too,” Becky said from Emily’s side. Emily enjoyed a quick fantasy of doing some ultimately harmless but somewhat painful injury to Becky. The three woman laughed among themselves, looking down the line at Emily. A few of the children laughed too. Mary stepped forward. “Ummm, Mrs Evans, Emily is not in the daycare. She’s an employee here.” “What?” Mrs Evans asked. “Who would want her to work for them?” Emily decided she would save time and start loathing Mrs Evans now. Mary seemed a little embarrassed as she said, “Miss Morgan.” Mrs Evans’ eyes widened. She then stepped away from Emily and said, “Very well. Students, make sure you have some space. We’ll do some stretching.” “Aren’t you going to put her in a diaper?” Becky demanded. “Hush Becky,” Mary said as she began to shift the children about. Emily had never thought that ballet was easy, and while she was not interested in dance, she knew the dancers worked hard. She experienced that firsthand that day. Mrs Evans was a real piece of work, finding fault in everything Emily did, expressing nothing but disappointment. She knew that the woman was picking on her. Jeremy, the male little, was clumsy and took time to catch on, but she had lots of praise for him. Emily was pleased when the class was over. Less pleased when Mary said she could shower with the other adults, or come to the daycare and get a quick bath. Emily hated showering with bigs, but she was not going down to the daycare and get bathed. The shower room was in the subbasement, actually close to the office where she had worked, for a very short time, with Jessica. Emily had to ask one of the women to help her with the shower controls. “Here you go Emily,” the woman said with a smile. “Want me to help you wash up?” She said it lightheartedly and was mostly joking. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be fine.” She gave Emily a pat on the head and went to her own shower. “I think you should be with the rest of the children,” Mrs Evans had come in as well, undressed, her thin, bony frame looming over Emily. Emily stepped into the spray of water. “Yes Mrs Evans,” she said. “I’ll speak to Miss Morgan about this,” she warned, turning to another of the shower stalls. The young woman who had helped Emily leaned over and said in a soft voice, “Don’t worry, Miss Morgan’s always gonna be on your side.” Emily nodded and wondered just what having Chase on her side meant. Later that afternoon Chase came into John’s office where Emily was working. She leaned over her and asked, “Did you enjoy your dance lesson?” Emily looked up at her. “No.” Chase smiled. “Mrs Evans says if you are properly diapered you will do better.” Chase patted her on the head. Emily thought about that. “Just how does she think that will help? If anything I think a diaper would make it harder to dance.” “It would make you cuter,” John suggested, “cuter makes you a better dancer. At least with strippers, I’ve found that true.” He looked up from his computer and smiled at Emily. Emily decided that John was more open-minded than she had hoped. Probably because he was a big computer nerd and they had that in common. A bond that knew no height. “That may be true,” Chase said, ignoring John, “but Mrs Evans believes you are spending too much time trying not to wet yourself, so a diaper would remove that worry. She said you were on the verge of wetting yourself the entire class.” “That is a lie,” Emily told her. “I agree with Emily,” John said. “Haven’t had a wet chair in here after all.” Chase looked towards John. Emily wondered if she was mad. If she was, she did not show it. “I do believe that Mrs Evans is” she paused “concerned about her students’ well being, perhaps that is colouring her observation.” Emily almost snorted but kept her peace. “Well, hopefully in the coming classes you two might come to an understanding. I am sure you’ll come to like Mrs Evans Emily. She’ll be here twice a week, so plenty of opportunity.” “Wonderful,” Emily said. One more class, only one more class, she thought. Wednesday passed quickly, she spent most of the day working with John. However, Thursday was the second ballet class. The t-shirt Chase had for her that day read ‘Loading Diaper… Please Wait’ with a progress bar that showed it at 75%. Everyone in the class thought it was adorable. The fussing over Emily must have made Rebecca jealous for she tripped Emily twice, and actually pushed into her a table. At that point Mary picked the child put and put her in a corner. Mrs Evans was at first on Rebecca’s side, until she noticed the displeased stares she was receiving from the adults. Emily thought it that they just did not want to get in trouble with Chase were she to be hurt, but even so, it was nice to have them side with her. Emily was never, ever going to miss those ballet classes. On Friday Chase took her out for lunch again, and again she fed Emily about half her meal before letting Emily finish the rest herself. When she left the building Friday night, she said a silent goodbye to it. If she succeeded, no, when she succeeded, Emily would miss the place a little, and the people, but she knew if she stayed much longer Chase would have her back in diapers and in a nursery. She ran up to her apartment as soon as the driver dropped her off. First, she went through her bug-out bag, made sure her passport and other things were ready, that she had forgotten nothing. Then she sat down behind her computer, turned it on and reached for her phone. “Showtime,” she said. Monday morning Chase came into the office, early as usual. She walked through the front doors, the security guard opening them for her. “Good morning Fred,” she said in greeting. “Morning Miss Morgan,” he told her. “Looks like it is going to rain.” Chase paused, looked back at the sky. “Maybe Fred.” She gave him a smile and walked to the elevators. In her office, she sat down and turned on her computer. There was a lot of work to do, nascent partnerships to hammer out, acquisitions to make, and deals to finalise. She smiled as she thought about the work she and Emily would be undertaking. She would take Emily out for lunch today, she decided. Italian. She could just picture Emily’s messy face. There might even be an opportunity to spill on her clothing which would make a bib necessary in the future. As Chase worked, she heard the sound of other people coming into the office, the soft susurration of far-off conversations. She went and got herself a cup of coffee and was just about to compose an email when her cell phone rang. She took it from her jacket pocket and checked the caller ID. It was the driver she had been sending to pick up and drop off Emily. Answering it, she said, “What is it?” “Miss Morgan, Emily was not waiting for me in front of the building this morning.” “What?” “I also went up to her apartment and knocked on the door, but there was no answer.” “Just a moment,” Chase told him, putting him on hold. She dialled Emily’s number, listened to the phone ring about twelve times before she cut the connection and returned to the driver. “You sure you knocked the right door?” “Apartment 403 Miss Morgan.” He sounded a little insulted. Chase thought about it, about what the driver could do. “Alright, come back to the office then.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” He hung up. Chase looked at her phone for a few seconds, then put it aside and turned to her computer. Emily had shown herself unwilling to answer phone calls in the past. Chase composed an email. ‘The mature thing to do if you are going to take a day off is to let people know. You owe your driver an apology, Emily. Respond back as soon as possible before I think you are acting willfully naughty.’ She smiled as she wrote the last part and hit send. Focused on her work, she did not really pay any attention to the time until Lisa came in to put some papers on her desk. “Where’s Emily?” she asked. Chase looked up from her work, at the time, and then her email. There was no response from Emily. “She’s taking the day off,” Chase told Lisa. “What? She’s only been here a month. She can be a lazy thing, just like a little.” Chase smiled. “In all fairness, she has been working hard, and she was working the weekend before last.” Chase counted attending the party as work. Lisa seemed somewhat mollified by that. Chase watched Lisa go and then turned back to her work. It was odd that Emily had not responded. Perhaps she was sick? Chase felt a little worried but told herself to calm down. After all, Emily had likely been sick before. She had her neighbours to lend a hand if necessary. Still, this was one of the many reasons Chase thought Emily should be living with her, where Chase could make sure she was always cared for. She suddenly wondered if perhaps Emily was not taking a day off, but not coming back at all. Ridiculous she told herself. Emily was loyal to her friends. She would not leave them to chance as long as Chase owned the building. She paused in her work. Ridiculous, she told herself again, then reached for her phone and dialled the number for her financial management office. She asked to speak to the senior manager, gave her name. A few seconds later she was talking to Izzy Aston. “Miss Morgan,” Izzy said, “what can I do for you?” “I wanted to speak to you about one of my investments. A building I had you purchase about a month ago. I would like to know its status.” “The status?” “Yes. I suppose I want to know if the company still owns it.” She felt stupid saying it. It was not as if it was something that could be misplaced. It was a building. “Just a moment,” he said, sounding somewhat confused. Chase heard the sound of typing. A pause, more typing. Finally, he said, “I’m afraid it has been sold, Miss Morgan.” “What?” Chase demanded. “I am sorry. But there was nothing said about not selling it.” From his defensive tone, Chase guessed she had sounded more than a little adversarial. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice even. “That is true.” She had never thought of it. Why would she? “But a sale like this, usually I would have been consulted.” “Yes, you should have been,” he answered, sounding a little uncertain. “Miss Morgan, can you give me about thirty minutes to look into this, so I can answer your question?”
 “Of course.” She wanted to demand immediate answers. “I’ll call you back in half an hour.” Chase hung up and sat back in her chair. It was impossible that Emily had managed to buy the building. Then who? Lyle. It had to be him, He had learned about Emily, had thrown a vast about of money at the management company to get them to sell him the building immediately. Now he had control over the apartment, and without it, she had no control over Emily. I should have never brought her to that party, Chase chastised herself. She wanted to get up, to go and find Emily, to save her from Lyle. Was she already in his nursery? Was he spanking that bottom that only Chase should be allowed to spank? Was he diapering her at that very moment? She found herself standing up behind her desk. Taking a deep breath, she returned to her chair. Wait, Chase told herself, wait until Izzy gets back to you. Wait until you have all the information. When her phone rang she almost knocked the handset to the floor as she grabbed for it. “Hello,” she said. “Miss Morgan, Izzy, I have the details.” Chase nodded even though he could not see her. “Tell me.” “Well, we use a piece of pattern predicting software to help manage the resources the company owns.” “Pattern predicting?” Chase asked, a sinking sensation in her stomach. “Yes, it is quite brilliant. However, it’s apparently not perfect. Over the last month, there have been several real estate purchases, made all over the country, properties similar to the one you had us buy. Each time they were sold soon after they were bought, and always at a loss.” “I see,” Chase said, beginning to understand. “Yes. The software saw those losses and predicted that there might be a future correction in similar real estate.” “Is there going to be a correction?” “No. I can understand why the software predicted it, but it was just an unlucky set of transactions, a perfect storm as you will.” “Yes, unlucky,” Chase said dully. “About a week ago the property was flagged as a possible loss, and a few days later it was flagged as something we should divest ourselves of as soon as we could.” “And then someone made an offer,” Chase said. “Yes.” “But, even if the software indicated it should be sold, shouldn’t you have checked things out before selling?” “Ah, yes,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “As it happens the employee who took the call was new. He did follow proper procedures but lacked some experience, and perhaps he was a little influenced by the commission bonus. The offer was time-sensitive, immediate sale required. The property sold for a thirty percent profit, which is not insignificant. If we could make thirty percent after a month on all our investments…” “Yes, I understand. Thank you, Mr Aston. Please review policy so we don’t end up again being misled by software, in case there is another perfect storm.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up the phone. “Oh Emily, you played me,” she said softly, confident that if she looked into it, she would find Emily Black had a part in the developing the software. Emily had dropped little financial bombs all over the country, their perfect placement setting ripples in motion that allowed her to influence the software and buy that building. And now Chase had no leverage against her. At least it was not Lyle. Chase leaned back in her chair. A smart little, able to go back to living her life the same way before Chase had ever found her. After a minute Chase got up from her chair, strode from her office. “I’m going out, for the rest of the morning, perhaps the whole day,” she told Lisa. “Yes Miss Morgan. Where are you going?” Chase did not answer, she nearly ran to the elevator, hit the call button hard enough that she almost cracked the plastic. Would Emily even still be there? She might have taken a plane anywhere in the world as soon as she bought the building. I might never see her again, Chase thought. Damn. Chase two rabbits and you catch none. Damn. The doors opened. She almost jumped in and nearly punched the button for the lobby. On the way down people got onto the elevator and talked to her but she hardly heard them. Someone asked her what cute shirt she would have Emily wear at the next ballet class. She turned eyes that must have been angry on the poor woman. The woman backed up, looking as she might flee. Chase mumbled an apology and nearly ran through the lobby. The drive to the undeveloped area seemed to take forever. She kept looking into the review mirror, at the back seat and the empty child seat. Was Emily getting into a cab right now? About to head to the airport? Should she call the police, report her as a runaway? But what if the police took her into custody? What if they sent her to an orphanage or a juvenile facility? Chase did not know what to do, and she hated that feeling. Fat raindrops began to fall, slowly. Chase reduced her speed and ground her teeth. After what seemed like an eternity she pulled up in front of the building. She hit her brakes hard enough to cause the tires to squeal on the wet pavement, splash water up from the road. Almost hit by that water was a big, holding a little in her arms, who gave Chase a hard look as she got out of the SUV. Chase returned it and watched the woman drop her gaze. She walked into the building, the building she had owned only the previous week. Now it was Emily’s building. Chase almost ran up the stairs, thinking she might try to kick in Emily’s door. Would someone call the police were she to do that? Making herself stand still and consider the situation Chase thought about what she could do, how she could find out if Emily were even still there, and if so was how to get her to open her door. That was when she heard the sound of iron on iron. She followed it to the back of the building, and out into Gus’ smithy. She saw the heavily muscled inbetweener working at a huge anvil, bare-chested except for a leather apron. The falling rain hissed as it hit hot metal. He stopped his work, looked at the piece he was working on, then put the thick iron bar he had been hammering into the forge. That was when he saw her. “Miss Morgan,” he said, politely. “Gus,” she answered, calmer than she felt. “I’ve almost finished your order, be about another week.” Chase nodded, then shook her head. “That’s not why I am here. Emily did not come to work today.” It sounded lame to her. Did he know what was happening? Had Emily told him? Did he know it was Chase that had threatened to raise his rent, kick him out? “Well,” he smiled, put a hand on the back of his head, looked a little embarrassed, “we did have something of a blowout last night. Emily was not drinking any heavier than she usually does so she is probably not sick, but well, try not to hold it against her. We’ve been under a bit of stress recently. I bet she just needed some time off.” “Oh?” Chase asked, trying to keep her tone neutral, but her heart was thumping, and she was shouting in her mind, ‘she was still here last night.’ “Emily did not tell you?” Chase shook her head. Gus looked back at the forge, grabbed a set of tongs and repositioned the metal, then leaned against the anvil. “About a month ago we found out someone had bought the building, was threatening to increase our rent or even kick us out to turn the place into condos.” “That would have been unfortunate.” Emily had not told them. She did not recall, however, threatening to turn the place into condos. Why had Emily not told them? Loyalty? Some sort of fondness on Emily's part? A desire to protect Chase's reputation? Gus snorted. “Tell me about it. Not a lot of places that have the space we have here. Where the hell would I find a place to set up another smithy after all?” She nodded. “So like I said, a lit bit of stress here, but late Saturday we found that the owner was not going to do anything like that. Was going offer us the opportunity set up a co-op.” “A co-op?” “We’d all have a share in the building. Not enough so that we share in the profits, but we would have a say in what happens to the building in the future. We can afford to buy into that.” “Fortunate.” “Damn right. So we’ve been celebrating pretty heavily since then.” “I’m glad you no longer have to worry,” Chase told him, feeling a twinge of a guilty conscience. “Thanks.” Chase looked about. “Are you sure that Emily is okay?” “She should be.” “I am a little worried about her. I would feel better if I knew she was okay. She is my employee after all.” Gus stood up straight, grabbed the tongs and once again shifted the metal. “I’m kind of the building super around here,” he told her, “I do have keys to all the apartments.” “Could I ask you to let me in?” She did not know if Gus would agree. She certainly could not force the inbetweener. “I guess it would be okay,” he said after a moment. Chase was careful not to smile but only nodded. “I would appreciate it.” Gus went and got a ring of keys and then took Chase up to the fourth floor. At apartment 403 he knocked on the door. “Emily, you in there?” Chase hoped he would get an answer, hoped that Emily would open the door for Gus. No answer came. Gus put the key the lock, turned it, then opened the door. Chase looked over his head into the room. It was neat and tidy, spotless. She realised it was the first time she had seen the inside of Emily’s apartment. Gus entered, calling, “Emily.” Chase followed, looking around. The apartment had been built primarily for inbetweeners. Chase could see a few step stools around, small modifications that Emily had made so she could live there comfortably. Chase’s head nearly brushed the ceiling. It seemed empty. She saw the envelope with Gus’ name on it about the same time Gus did. If it would not have been rude, and perhaps ill-advised, she might have tried to snatch it from him. As it was, she had to stand there as he opened it up and read it. A flash of concern, then a smile and a laugh. “What?” Chase asked. “She says she had to go, some kind of family issue, then she wrote that if I bothered to look at my email, I would already know it.” “Family issue?” “Doesn’t say what. Will be gone for at least two weeks. Maybe longer.” She could be anywhere, Chase thought. She should have had the clinic put a tracking chip in her, or was that only for pets? She should have not bothered with all the games and just taken Emily with her from the first. She could be safely in her nursery right now instead of god knows where doing who knew what. “Oh. there’s a message for you,” Gus told her. “What?” Her tone was a little too eager. “She said that if you were to come by that, I should tell you she left something of yours in the closet in her bedroom.” Chase looked about. Gus indicated a door. She thanked him and went and opened the door. Emily’s bedroom was amply sized, for a little. The bed looked tiny to Chase, but she supposed it would be a twin for most inbetweeners. It was low to the floor so Emily would be able to get in and out of it without dealing with a drop. Currently, it was stripped of sheets, just a bare mattress. She really should have had a rubber sheet on it, Chase thought, just in case. Opening the door to the closet Chase found it had been modified. The bar set to what was probably eye height for Emily, a few shelves above it, a small ladder attached to the wall. The closet was bare, but for the white sailor dress, hanging there, and on the shelf above it the other pieces of the outfit. A note was taped to the dress. Chase peeled it off. On it was written, ‘Thank you for letting me borrow your dress, Emily.’ “Polite as always,” Chase said softly. Taking the dress from the closet, she lifted it to her face, smelt the faint scent of Emily’s soap. Tears prickled her eyes, but she wiped them away, then grabbed the undergarments, the shoes and the purse, folding them into a bundle. “Get everything?” Gus asked as she came from the room. “Yes, thank you,” she said. He showed her from the apartment, locked the door behind them, then saw her to the building’s lobby. “Like I said, a week.” “What?” “Your order,” he explained, “it will be done in a week.” “Yes, thank you,” Chase told him, and then left. Apartment 317 was one of the smallest apartments in the building. Emily had rented it at the same time she had rented 403. At first in the hope that Catherine would come to her senses and come to work with Emily. And then she had kept it as a place to hide out, in case some big got a little too inquisitive. It was how she would have dealt with Chase if Chase had not bought the building, forcing her to deal with the monster directly instead of hiding from it. She had considered leaving for real, she had everything she needed to do so, but this was her home, and she liked living there, liked her neighbours. She saw no reason to let Chase drive her from it. That would have been at least a partial victory for Chase. She sat on the floor, surrounded by boxes of stuff (taken from 403 to make it look empty and deserted) and watched Chase leave. She was not so foolish as to stand by the window but had placed a webcam there, so she might see the comings and goings below. Emily had seen Chase come, and now was watching her go. It looked like she was carrying the dress, so she supposed Gus had let her into the apartment. She did not blame him. She was glad that no one knew that she was the person who rented 317. Most everyone probably thought it was empty, too small to be rented out. If they even thought of it at all. No one was going to bother her. She would be quiet for the next week, she had food to last that long, and make sure Chase was not coming back, believed that she was gone. When she returned to 403 her neighbours would have to be told a story to keep them from accidentally giving her away to Chase. She could say that the job did not work out, but that Chase really wanted to hire her back. That should keep them quiet about her when the Amazon was around. Assuming she ever came around again. She watched Chase leave. She thought that the Amazon looked sad standing in the rain. It made Emily feel a little guilty, but she quickly dispelled the guilt, reminding herself that Chase had threatened her friends to get Emily to work for her. The woman did not deserve her sympathy. That thought helped assuage the guilt a little. Chase took the rest of Monday off, and when she came in on Tuesday, she got little work done. She sat at her desk and wondered where Emily had gone. There were places were a little might avoid the larger people, though such places were in decline as the larger folk went where they would. When Lisa told her that Mrs Evans had come to teach the class Chase almost told Lisa to send the woman away. Without Emily what was the point? However she had promised the woman employment, and she had staff and the children from the daycare who were enjoying those classes. Chase told Lisa to deal with the woman and went back to her dark thoughts. That night she made going to Linda’s place an excuse to return to the building. Chase’s heart was not into discussing clothing, and she had left, telling the seamstress she needed some time to think. Then she had gone up to apartment 403 and listened outside the door, hoping to hear something from within. Wednesday morning Richard came into her office. “Snap out of it,” he told her, slapping his hand against her desk. “Pardon?” she asked, an edge to her voice. He did not back down. “It’s obvious to me that Emily’s bailed on you, that your chase two rabbits and catch both plan failed. Suck it up.” “Excuse me?” she demanded, suddenly angry. “I got both 3T and Evertech asking me why things have suddenly halted. You’ve got deals that need to be handled, and you have to handle them. I’m sorry Emily’s gone, but she’s gone. Stop sulking and get your ass in gear.” Chase’s anger evaporated, or more to the point she directed it at herself. She had been sulking. She had been moping around because Emily had slipped her leash. It was upsetting, but she had responsibilities, and she had been ignoring them. “You’re right,” she told Richard. “Damn straight. Now get your ass in gear before I kick it.” She smiled at him. “You’re pushing it, Richard.” He returned the smile. “A chance I am willing to take.” By the end of the day, Chase had repaired all the damage her funk had caused. Thursday she had things pushed ahead, well on track. She missed having Emily about, both Miss Black and EmEm, but she had built the company up on her own, she did not need Emily to grow it. She returned home Thursday evening, pleasantly tired. As she sat down at her kitchen table, glass of wine in her hand, she looked at some of the paperwork she had left there the previous week. She picked up the sales notice for a three-floor suite, only a few blocks away from where she currently lived. She would have put an offer on it, had Emily not left. It had a beautiful room on the second level that Chase had planned to turn into Emily’s nursery. No need to buy it now. She smiled as she recalled her plan to get Emily there. A housewarming party. Emily would have had to attend of course. And then Chase would arrange some reason for Emily to have to stay the night. She could just imagine the look on Emily’s face when Chase brought her into the nursery. She had already done some research and had found a perfect crib mattress. She imagined it would be the best night’s sleep Emily had ever had, and chase would get her to admit that. Sighing Chase shook her head. So much for that dream. “Where have you gone Emily?” she asked, but this time it was not a lament of loss, but just a simple question. She got up and walked to her windows, looked at the far-off lights of the buildings of the undeveloped area. “Where would you have gone?” She could understand why Emily had chosen to live there. The place had been built for inbetweeners, and being near the protected greenbelt made it nearly impossible to develop anything there. Likely few big people would ever go there; expect at certain times of the day to meet Linda or in the evenings to visit clubs. Set times like that would be easy for Emily to work around. Where would she find another place like that, one where she had the sort of infrastructure to continue her work? There could not be too many places like that. Perhaps that meant Emily would return. But likely Chase would never know. Chase frowned. Or perhaps it was not a question if she would return, but had she ever left? It would be daring. It would also keep Emily in a familiar place, and Chase thought most littles, deep down, wanted security. Clever. “Too clever,” Chase said with a smile. “Sometimes you can be too clever.” She got her phone, called Izzy Aston. Got an answering service. Got them to put her through to his personal line. “Miss Morgan,” he said, sounding a little surprised. “Mr Aston, do you still have copies of the financial information on that building?” He did not answer immediately and then said, “We should.” “Send everything you have to me as soon as you can.” “As soon…” “Tomorrow is fine.” She hung up. Perhaps she was kidding herself, but she had a good feeling. And it was the only possibility left that meant she could find Emily. She grabbed at it like a drowning person grabbed onto a life preserver. Busy with a deluge of work, it was not until midday that Chase was able to look over the records that Izzy had sent her. It did not take her long to find what she was looking for. Apartment 403 and 317, every month an automatic payment had come from the same bank. She could not be sure of the account, but it had to be the same. Chase would not accept that it could not be. Chase had to restrain herself from just going over and banging on the door to 317. If Emily found out Chase knew, then she would likely leave for real. Chase could not be positive Emily as in 317. Perhaps she had rented the second apartment just for storage. Or maybe it was a trap, a place Emily could watch, just to get a feeling for how much effort was being put into catching her. It seemed the kind of complicated trap Emily might set up. So she had to be sure before she tried anything. After a moment she opened her desk drawer and looked through a stack of business cards she kept. It did not take her long to find the name of the detective she had hired a month ago to look into Emily Black. She was going to have another job for him. Chase returned on Saturday. Emily might have missed it but for the roar of a big engine. She checked the webcam feed and saw Chase, sitting astride her huge motorcycle, revving the engine, talking to Candy. Hard to say from a distance and with the web cam’s quality, but she thought that Chase looked happy. She had only been back once since the Monday, and now that she came again it seemed it was just for her motorcycle. Emily told herself she was not upset, even though she was, somewhat. It had been kind of flattering, in a scary way, the way Chase had spent so much time on her. And less than a week and she was already over it. Well, good for her, Emily thought. And good for me. At least she won’t be bothering me anymore. I can go back to my old apartment sooner than I planned. Below Chase put on a helmet and after a quick conversation with Candy was speeding away, out of the camera’s frame, Emily ran to the window, peering out as Chase shot away down the road. That was one heck of a fast bike, she thought, watching until Chase turned a corner. She ducked away from the window, returned to her computer, worked while waiting to see if Chase would come back. She did. She spoke to Candy, then rolled her bike back into Candy’s garage. Chase really did seem happy. Probably already found a replacement for Emily. She wondered who was getting spoon (fork) fed prime rib and getting pushed on a swing by Chase now? Then she told herself she was not jealous, not even a little. Through the webcam she watched Chase get into her SUV and drive off. It looked as if she had not even come into the building Emily thought with a frown. Some distance from the building Chase slowed down, stopped and then unlocked the doors of her SUV. A man, about six and a half feet tall, got into the passenger seat. “Well?” Chase asked. He held an SLR digital cameral with a long lens towards her, flipping the display screen up. “Watched the window you told me to, got some good pictures. She peeked out just as you were riding off.” Chase looked at the screen, at Emily. She smiled. They were good photos. There was a look of wonder in Emily’s eyes, her mouth hanging open. “I wonder if there is some kind of child safety seat you can put on a motorcycle?” “Wouldn’t know. This what you need?” “Indeed it is.” After a moment Chase asked, “I need to get into that apartment.” “Not my area, not interested.” Chase took a roll of bills from her riding jacket pocket and dropped the cash into his lap. “Maybe you know someone?” He picked up the roll, bounced it in his hand. “Sounds like you want to do something illegal, so I can’t help you. But maybe I know a few names. And maybe on the drive back I’ll write them down on a piece of paper. And maybe that paper will accidentally fall out of my pocket onto the floor.” “And perhaps I’ll never see it because I’ll send the SUV out to be detailed and cleaned afterwards.” He nodded. “Maybe this person is a shade under six feet and cute. That going to be an issue?” Chase started the car up. “Not for me.” Emily woke up Monday morning, feeling a little groggy. She yawned, shifted over in her bed, stretching a little. She looked over at the clock sitting on the bedside table. Still early. “Almost like I still think I need to go to work,” she said to herself. “I guess you enjoyed it then.” Emily turned towards the voice slowly, afraid to look as if it would make it true. Just like that time Chase had come into the bar. Chase was sitting on her bed. “This better be a dream,” she said, hoping it was. Chase looked at her for several seconds, then smiled. “The best kind of dream or a nightmare?” Emily did not answer that, instead asking, “How did you get in here?” “Who knows. Maybe you wished me here.” Emily closed her eyes and sighed. “I was worried about you,” Chase said. “You left without saying goodbye. That was rude.” She opened her eyes. “I’m fine, and I’m sorry, so can you please leave?” “It was brilliant.” “Pardon?” “Your plan, It was brilliant.” She smiled. “I could count on the fingers of one hand the people in my company who could have made that work. I never thought that you would be able to buy the building away from me.” “Thank you,” Emily said after a moment, warily. “And then staying here, right under my nose, as it were. That was just a little too clever.” Emily did not answer. Chase smiled and said, “I do have one question though.” “What is that?” “How did you get the new guy when you made your offer?” Emily could not help but smile a little. “I called five times and kept hanging up until I got him.” Chase stared at her for several seconds, then began to laugh. “So simple.” “Simple is sometimes the best.” After several seconds Chase stopped laughing. She leaned back, the bed creaking under her weight. “You won.” “Pardon?” “You win. You played by my rules, and you beat me. I don’t know about all littles, but I know that you are mature and quite capable of taking care of yourself.” “Thank you,” Emily said once more. Hearing Chase say that made her feel victorious, but, she had to admit, a little sad. Not seeing Chase again, not matching wits with her, she was going to miss that. Not very much of course, but a tiny bit. She had realised that over the past week. Chase nodded. Sat up straight. “Of course it does not matter.” “What?” Emily asked after a moment. “I’ve watched you these past weeks, and I’ve realised something.” “What?” “It must be exhausting to be you.” “Pardon?” Chase looked down at her, grabbed the covers and pulled them off. Emily made an effort to hold onto them, but Chase easily pulled them from her hands. She lay on the bottom sheet in her panties and the oversized t-shirt she slept in. She sat up against the pillows, pulling her knees up against her chest. Chase stared at her for a few seconds and then said, “You’re always ready, always watching, always considering what you say and do. How can you live like that?” Emily did not answer. “And you are going to make a mistake you can’t recover from, sooner or later Emily.” “I won’t.” “Oh Emily, at least don’t lie to yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. And because you don’t have anyone to help you your mistakes are sure to be that much dire. Can you say paying for both the apartments from the same bank was not a mistake?” Emily shook her head again, but it was a weak motion. “You are going to drink too much at that shit hole you call a bar and end up pissing yourself on the way home, and then every one of your neighbours is going to say, ‘She’s just like all the other helpless littles, and she needs to be taken care of.’” Emily shook her head again but wondered if what Chase said was true. “I suppose Linda might make a good mommy, she would certainly be able to have you help her model all those nice outfits. I see Gus as a stronger daddy though, but I shudder to think he would probably make you a wrought iron crib.” Emily thought about how recently Linda had come up with a new outfit for her, instead of discussing it, like they had before. And Candy had told her to wash her hands, not pointed out the soap and left it at that, but actually to wash her hands. Her just spending time around an Amazon like Chase had changed how they viewed her. What Chase was saying was possible. “But maybe they won’t,” Chase said, surprising Emily. “They like you. They know you. They might ignore something like that, say that drunken pissing or whatever it might be is something that could happen to anyone.” Emily nodded. “That’s right.” “Yes, that’s right, but what about all the bigs who are coming around here for Linda’s clothing. Can you keep avoiding them?” “I… maybe… yes.” “And,” Chase continued as if Emily had said nothing, “one of them is certain to ask Linda, ‘That little blonde girl, who is her mother?’” Chase spoke in a nasally, high tone that Emily thought of as suburban posh. In any other circumstance, she might have laughed. “And Linda, bless her, will tell them that you live by yourself.” Chase shook her head. Emily could not deny it could happen. “Or perhaps you’ll run into a Jessica who is not an idiot, or the next time that you are about to be spanked no one will be there to stop it. Then what?” Emily did not have an answer. Chase did. “You’ll end up in some suburban nursery, or just a small room that someone has pushed a crib into, or maybe some intercity apartment with a teenage ‘mother’ who thought she was ready for the responsibility. Or perhaps a state orphanage.” It was a dark set of possibilities that Chase described. “You might end up being an object lesson for a child. Have you ever seen that? Some little being made an object of ridicule, so some child will see that they need to master their potty training.” Emily had heard of that, though she had never seen it. Or she assumed she had never seen it. For all, she knew that was what happened to all the littles in the care of bigs she had seen around the apartment building. “And you’ll certainly not enjoy the fine things in life, sadly few littles ever do. Hand me downs that never fit quite right, low-quality diapers, baby food.” Chase smiled and gave a little shudder. “Though I suppose if you are lucky enough to be taken by one of the Amazons who come here you may still enjoy having Linda make your clothing for you… maybe.” “That won’t happen,” Emily said, but she was surprised at how uncertain her voice sounded. “Really?” Chase asked, arching an eyebrow. Emily said nothing. Chase reached out and grabbed her by the ankle, began to pull her close. Emily made a halfhearted effort to stop her, caught at the sheet below her, but Chase easily overcame the small amount of resistance. She pulled Emily up, sat her on her lap, and wrapped her arms around the small woman. Emily felt Chase place her chin atop her head for a moment. “I would spoil you rotten,” Chase said. Emily supposed she would, and as much as the thought of being spoiled appealed, she did not want it in the way Chase meant. “Your nursery would be large, and well lit, full of beautiful things, and all your clothing would be made for you. And I’d make sure you got prime rib from the Modern Well at least once a week.” “Which you’d cut up and feed me,” Emily said softly. “Of course, I want to make sure all that yummy steak gets in your tummy.” She reached down and rubbed Emily’s belly, then she grasped the bottom of the t-shirt and yanked it cleanly off, tossing it aside, leaving Emily naked but for her panties. The room was cool, but Chase once more hugged her close, and Chase was warm. “I’d want you to be happy. As happy as I could arrange. Seventy-five percent happy, maybe even eighty.” “Not a hundred percent?” Emily asked a touch of sarcasm in her tone. “Oh Emily, so few people get to be one hundred percent happy.” Emily suspected that Chase considered herself to be a person who got to be one hundred percent happy. Still, she could not deny that seventy-five percent would be pretty good. “And most importantly,” Chase continued, “and that no one else will offer, I need Emily Black to work for me, so unlike everyone else who might take care of you, I only want your diapers full of mush, not your head.” Emily stiffened in Chase’s grasp. Of course, there would be diapers. For a second there she had been thinking to be in Chase’s care might not be so bad, especially compared to the alternatives Chase had laid out. But Chase still wanted her in wet and messy diapers, ultimately no better than a baby for all the others things she had said. “I brought the little surprise you left for me back in your other apartment. How about we get you dressed up in that sailor dress and we’ll go down, and you can thank Linda for making you such a pretty outfit and tell her how much you love it.” “No,” Emily said softly. She was picturing the surprise in Linda’s eyes, but she was sure there would be a bit of pleasure there as well, seeing the dress she had made being worn so well. Linda would accept it and from that point on Emily would just be another little whose ‘mommy’ brought her to have clothing made. That would hurt. “No?” Chase said, and she kissed the top of Emily’s head. “You don’t want Linda to be successful? I was thinking of making her my personal seamstress. It would help her, and there is some protection in that, just in case one of the bigs who visits her gets some ideas in their heads about taking care of an inbetweener.” Emily suspected that Chase herself had had such thoughts, and things like that were known to happen to some inbetweeners, And Linda was dealing with an increasing number of bigs. Dammit she thought, feeling more and more boxed in. “Make sure you smile and curtsey, so Linda knows you are happy,” Chase said, hugging Emily almost painfully tight for a moment. “And then we’ll go down and see Gus, and you can thank him for always helping you.” Gus! Gus who was all muscle. Gus who worked as a bouncer in the clubs. Gus who had put plenty of bigs in their place. Gus who would make sure no big gave Linda any problems. Gus would get her clear of Chase, in a second. All she had to do was ask. Chase had screwed up, lost in her thoughts of humiliating Emily in front of all her friends. Then Emily wondered what Chase would do. She might, Emily thought, call the police. She could tell them Gus had kidnapped her little girl. Emily had been working for Chase for a month. Plenty of witnesses would speak to that. It would be no problem for Chase to say she was Emily’s guardian. And if the police believed that then Gus would end up in so much trouble. She could not do that to him. Again, she would have to behave just like Chase said, give Gus no reason to think she did not want to be in Chase’s care. She suddenly pictured a look of betrayal crossing his face, as if all the time they had known each other Emily had been tricking him. And then acceptance, of Emily as just another of those littles who could not handle the adult world. And then dismissal as she was classed within a group of people he had no time for. That was going to hurt a lot. “We’ll be back here of course,” Chase told her, “and you’ll have an opportunity to tell all your other neighbours about how happy you are. Everyone except that bartender. He is strange, and I will not take you to a bar like that.” Emily almost laughed for she may have drunk her last gin and tonic. Unless she did something. “Can you give me a little time to think about it?” she asked, keeping her voice soft, guileless. Chase had given her time before. Emily would just need a few hours to disappear, to muddy her trail. “Oh Emily,” Chase said, sounding sad, “I told you that you were bound to make a mistake that you could not recover from. Do you think, now that I have hugged you so tight that I could ever let you go? Especially since you’ve already spent so much time trying to get away from me?” Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s not fair,” she cried and was amazed at how much a little girl she sounded. Chase laughed and whisked Emily’s panties down her legs. “I know the adult world often seems that way, but it is for the best.” She carelessly tossed Emily’s panties across the room where by chance or design they found their way into a garbage pail. “Now let’s get you dressed,” Chase said as she stood. “I know you don’t have any diapers here, but maybe Linda will have a few, stashed away for a baby who might need a change. Oh, Emily, we are going to be so busy.” Emily, helpless in Chase’s arms could say nothing. The fate she had so long tried to avoid had caught up with her. And she honestly was no longer sure if that was completely a bad thing. The hot days of summer had faded into the cold of fall. While the nights brought with them a chill that hinted at winter, the days could still be warm. It was on one of those warm, sunny days, around noon that Chase Morgan had taken a walk during lunch. She was dressed in a dark red skirt, with a cream blouse, a sweater of green tied around her neck in a jaunty manner. The modest heels of her oxfords clicked sharply on the sidewalk, and the stroller she pushed rolled along on silent wheels. People smiled at her when the passed, and Chase returned those smiles. A number of people who knew her said hello. She had just crossed the street and was beginning back towards her building when she heard someone call, “Chase!” She recognised the voice. Turned to see Lyle Redmond on the other side of the street, holding the hand of a little. Lyle looked both ways, then dashed across the street, pulling the little, Tiffy, along with him. The girl had to take three steps to every one of Lyle’s, but Chase could see that he had a tight hold on her, and was not going to let her fall. She could not fault him for how he took care of his girls. They were both dressed well, Lyle in a navy suit, Tiffy in a cute, dark brown dress. He gave Tiffy a lift as he stepped up over the curb. Her short dress skirt puffed up revealing the little’s diapers. “Chase, it’s been a while,” he told her, smiling. Chase returned his smile, looked down at Tiffy, then back at him. “I’ve been busy, you know how it is.” He nodded, still smiling. “I do indeed. You’ve made a lot of partnerships recently. I really wish you had agreed to sell.” She smiled. “Nothing wrong with a little competition.” He nodded, returned her smile. It seemed a little forced. “True enough. I’ve heard that you have hired Emily Black. Care to tell me how you managed that?” “Oh, Miss Black and I have a lot in common, a bond if you will. We’re women of the world.” From the stroller, it was possible the occupant made a rude sound, though it could have easily been a burp or a sneeze. Lyle looked towards the stroller. “Is this the little girl you brought to the party?” Chase smiled. “Yes, she is.” She smoothly spun the stroller around so the Lyle could see the occupant. “This is EmEm.” Emily was dressed in a short, pink skirt (a much lighter shade of the red that Chase wore), her thick, white disposable diaper in full view, and wore a pale green sweater. Her little black mary janes were similar in colour and material to Chase’s shoes. Chase was positive that she saw Lyle’s eyes move, his gaze darting from Emily in her stroller to Tiffy at his side. “She’s adorable,” he said. Chase smiled. She had gotten Emily’s hair long enough to do up in little girl bunches on either side of her head. She still was not sure if she wanted to grow Emily’s hair longer yet, the short styles were charming on her. Chase leaned down and pulled the pacifier from Emily’s mouth. “Say hello to Mr Redmond EmEm,” she said. “Hello Mr Redmond,” Emily said, in her pure, sweet voice, just the hint of a lisp in it. That lisp was so perfect, hard to get Emily to produce too, but worth the time. This time she was sure she saw him look from Emily to Tiffy. Chase knew that he was comparing their voices and she knew Emily would win that competition. Of course, there was no competition, and it was wrong to compare daughters because they were both lovely little girls. But Emily was the better. Lyle looked away from Emily, back to Chase as Chase put the pacifier back in Emily’s mouth. “She’s lucky to have you taking care of her.” His light tone seemed forced to Chase. “I’m lucky to have the opportunity. Little EmEm almost got lost from me.” “That would have been terrible.” He almost sounded genuine. Chase nodded. “As enjoyable as it is to speak about our little girls, there is some business I would like to ask about. I don’t suppose you could get Emily Black to find some time for some work for me, could you? I have a big project coming up, and she would be invaluable to it.” Chase smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid that Miss Black is far too busy. I am working on making an offer for the big contract that ‘Sugar and Spice’ has got out. Lyle’s smile actually faded. “My company is making an offer on that as well.” “Is it really?” Chase asked, faking the surprise in her tone. “Well, I am sure that it will be like you said that time, that all your experience will be a major factor.” He nodded, the fake smile back. “Yes, of course. Well, competition is good.” He looked between Chase and Emily. Chase was quite pleased with the feeling of victory. She would have to come up with a special reward for Emily. “I have to run,” he told her, seeming to get over his surprise. “You should come over to the house soon, our girls can have a playdate. We can talk business.” “That sounds nice,” Chase said, enjoying that the lord of the manor was making an entreaty to her. She supposed that made her a queen. He nodded. “It was good to see you. Come along Tiffy,” he said as he led the girl away. Chase watched them go, smiled, and spun the stroller back around, pushing it again towards her building. One of the staff held the door open as Chase came in, directing the stroller into the lobby. She thanked the man and walked towards reception. Claire and Kristen no longer worked there; Chase had promoted them, feeling their experience was of better use elsewhere. Two new young women manned the desk now, a recent hire named Amanda and (somewhat to everyone’s surprise) Jessica King. Jessica had gotten in trouble with her school and was in danger of being sent back a few grades. About a month after Chase had fired her the young woman had come back and literally begged to be given another chance. “Good afternoon Miss Morgan,” Amanda said, bright and chipper. She was a proverbial ray of sunshine and could make even the dourest of visitors smile. “Did you and little EmEm have a good stroll?” she asked as she came around the desk and knelt in front of the stroller. “Yes, most pleasant,” Chase said, smiling as she recalled the look on Lyle’s face. “And little EmEm enjoyed some fresh air in her pretty new outfit.” The soft giggle from the stroller told Chase that once more the ever bright Amanda had gotten to her daughter. “Jessica, come here and take a look at little EmEm’s new outfit.” Chase had told Jessica in no uncertain terms that completing her internship would require good reports from her supervisor, Amanda, so Jessica came out from behind the reception desk. Perhaps not as quick as she might have. Chase would mention that to Amanda. The terms of her second chance were not completely obvious, but if you knew to look you could see how the diaper she wore rounded out her bottom under the skirt, and you could hear the soft plastic rustle when she moved. ‘If you pissed your pants once you might again, I can’t have that,’ Chase had told her. She really had no concerns that Jessica would have such an accident, but she thought it would make Emily more accepting of her diapers if she knew Jessica wore them as well. And while it probably did not, the fact seemed to bring a smile to Emily’s face, which alone made it well worth it. “Yes, it’s very pretty,” Jessica said as she came to stand in front of the stroller. “And look at her bright white diaper,” Amanda exclaimed. Chase suspected that Emily was probably blushing a little, she knew for a fact Jessica was. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” Chase said, pushing the stroller towards the elevators. She spoke to a few more people on her way up, smiled as people expressed delight over Emily, and on the twenty-third floor pushed the stroller into her office suite. There Kristen was waiting. Lisa had been promoted, given a position as a liaison between Chase’s company and the other companies they were entering into partnerships with. She had promoted Kristen to her executive assistant and was so far quite pleased with the young woman. “Good afternoon Miss Morgan, did you and EmEm enjoy your walk?” “Quite pleasant, thank you. Any messages?” “Nothing important, though Mr Julian of Evertech called, he wanted to move the meeting thirty minutes ahead. Your schedule was clear, so I told him that it was okay.” “That’s fine.” Kristen knelt in front of the stroller. “Want me to change EmEm?” “No,” Chase said with a smile, “she’ll be fine.” Kristen stood, looking just a little disappointed. Chase was somewhat greedy when it came to taking care of Emily. She pushed the stroller into her office, swung it around and tucked it into a corner where it was out of the way. She knelt down and released the safety straps from that held Emily safe and secure, then slid a finger into Emily’s diaper. The flush of red across Emily’s cheeks was probably not wholly due to embarrassment Chase thought, smiling, her large fingers gently caressing Emily between her legs. “Still dry,” she announced, a little disappointed, but careful not show it as she drew her fingers from the diaper. She took the pacifier from Emily’s mouth and then lifted her from the stroller, swinging her up into the air. “So high!” she said. Emily looked a little alarmed, which was one of her many adorable looks. Chase brought her lower, so they were eye to eye, then she dipped her a little and kissed her on the forehead. “What an adorable little girl I have.” A tiny smile flashed on Emily’s face for a moment. Crossing the room in a few steps, Chase bent over and put Emily in her playpen, among the expensive plush toys scattered within it. The playpen was at the side of the room, the polished oak bars fitting in well with the rest of the room’s furniture. There was a change table in Chase’s personal bathroom. She had not brought a lot of baby furniture into her office. It was still a place of business. Still holding Emily under her arms, she looked down at the little. She suspected that Emily had not fully accepted her new place in the world, which was fine with Chase. It just made it more enjoyable. “Do you know why mommy calls you EmEm?” Emily looked up at her, a guileless look of confusion on her face that made her look so innocent. After a few seconds, she said, “No Mama.” Smiling Chase leaned in and kissed her on her forehead again. “Because EmEm is my two adorable little rabbits.” She began to tickle Emily through her clothing until Emily was giggling happily (and perhaps even wetting her diapers a little, Chase could hope). She then gave Emily a gentle push and lowered her onto her thickly diapered bottom with a soft ‘thump’. “You be good, and mommy will play with you once Mr Julian leaves.” She picked up a cheap, plasticky looking pink laptop, covered in decals of a popular cartoon with ponies. She placed the laptop on Emily’s lap. “Yes Mama,” Emily said. Chase turned away from her and went to her own desk. She took a seat, then looked towards the playpen, where Emily was already bent over the laptop, looking like a little girl playing at being an adult. Of course, Chase and a few others knew that was not the case, but it did not hurt to let everyone else think that Emily was just as she appeared. Emily may not have needed to be taken care of, but Chase was of the opinion that she benefitted from it. Less time worrying about paying rent, doing chores, even keeping her pants dry, more time focused on her work. Feeling content, she turned to her own laptop. She had some notes to review before her meeting with Paul Julian. The first thing Emily did whenever logging onto a computer was to make sure that no one had put a keylogger on the computer, or was watching her with some sort of spyware. Not that it had happened, but as Chase had taught her, she could not afford to make mistakes. The second thing she did was check her accounts. Chase had not tried to take control of Emily’s property, whether as a way to show some respect or that she just had never thought about it. She also had, likely unknowingly, given Emily Black access to Morgan and Stone’s bank accounts. Accessing money from them would be illegal, but Emily was willing to consider it. She could put things in place quickly enough to arrange for her kidnapping… rescue, to arrange for her rescue whenever she wanted. Though the people performing the rescue would likely think it a kidnapping…. That Emily had not was because she knew that Chase would come looking for her, and she was pretty sure that were she to find her (and Emily was giving it about a thirty-five percent chance at the moment) that there would be punishments for running away. That meant if she were going to arrange her rescue she would have to do something about Chase. Violence had never crossed Emily’s mind, but she thought she might be able to pass some evidence of wrongdoing on to the right authorities that could get Chase in trouble. Chase’s recent and rapid growth had led her to cut a few corners, nothing serious or really illegal, but it would require being addressed in court. If Chase was busy in court than Emily could use that time to make sure Chase did not find her. But she really did not want to do that to Chase. At least not yet. Chase had been good to her word. Emily was spoiled rotten. The playpen, with its soft, fluffy silk floor, and polished oak bars, was like all the things Chase had bought for her; beautiful and well made. Her clothing was all custom made (naturally, though visits to Linda were always a little embarrassing), with none of the silly little mobility limiting tricks that some littles had to deal with. (Linda had actually turned her old apartment into a complete studio and workroom and was living in Emily’s old apartment.) And her diapers were the best. So absorbent that Emily was often not even aware when they were wet (which of course was probably the point). She had met enough other littles in similar situations to know that she was pretty lucky. She had seen them in ugly clothing, badly fitting, obviously cheap diapers. Strollers of ugly plastics and plain aluminium. Likely the baby furniture in their lives was equally shoddy. And she had seen what they ate. Having Chase feed her delicious food was infinitely preferable to the other options littles dealt with. She was likely eating better than many gourmands. Of course, the doctor at that stupid clinic was telling Chase a blander diet, more suited to a little, was what Emily should be eating. Fortunately, Chase did not take well to being told how to look after her daughter. And she did not have a toddler or infant-like mind, as happened to many littles. The Etiquette school that Chase had sent her to had made her a bed wetter, but she had left the school after four weeks still able to get to the potty… most of the time. She had been humbled at that school, learned that while she might be a genius when it came to computers and tech, she was as a slow child compared to those bigs who had mastered the art of making littles accept their status as small children. She had known what was going to happen, had been sure she could resist, passively of course, and make Chase realise that her plan was not going to work. And then after barely six days she was not able to stay dry when she was asleep, and the circular logic word traps (as she thought of them) started going around in her head. It was okay for little girls to wet their beds, and she wet her bed, so she was a little girl.... How stupid, but it had stuck in her mind, and if she thought too long about it she ended up getting distracted, usually be her work. When she had left the school, she had figured she had been at the level of a preschooler. She mostly got to the potty on time and had only had one messy accident, and that was only because another girl had been using the potty and Emily had waited a little too long to ask. She had seen other girls become nearly infants in only two weeks, so she suspected her teachers were using kid gloves, as it were, on her. Probably because Chase needed her to be Emily Black as well as EmEm. She suddenly stopped typing on her laptop. “Something wrong EmEm,” Chase asked from her desk. “Do you need the potty?” “No mama,” Emily said, “I just got why I was two rabbits.” Chase laughed. “So smart.” It was condescending, but Emily had heard far worst being directed at other littles from their mommies or daddies, so she was willing to take it as a compliment. She returned to her typing. There had been a few more messy accidents since leaving the school, and she was not making it to the potty when she had to pee as often as she had before. Chase made sure Emily enjoyed when her diapers were wet and the subsequent diaper changes. Emily was only human after all and pleasure was a strong motivator. No, she had not given up the idea she might win free of Chase but wanted to be sure when she made her attempt. Failure was not an option. And for the moment she got to live well and do what she loved. And got to be with the person she loved, who loved her back, though not in the way Emily would have preferred. She had even talked Chase out of the ballet lessons in favour of yoga (though ballet remained a threat if her work was never up to the standards Chase wanted), Chase had promised her about seventy-five percent happiness, maybe eighty. It was close to that. Emily felt a bit of pressure from her bladder, and her bottom, and thought maybe she should ask for the potty, but the work she had started was so interesting. Surely she would be fine if she waited. And she was in diapers after all. As she worked, Emily was not aware that she was smiling. It was the same smile that Chase had wanted to see more of. A similar smile was on Chase’s face at the moment as little and big worked together, equally content. Well, Chase was more content, but if you had asked she would have said that was only fair. She was bigger after all. Author’s Notes When I had first decided to try to write a story about a little in the Diaper Dimension who knew what things were like and was trying to avoid ending up in diapers my little character was a Sherlock Homles style deductive genius. Because she was a little, she had to team up with a sympathetic (also somewhat lazy and greedy and with zero interest in children) big who would act the great detective while the little was really solving the crimes. It was an all right idea, but I am the pants when it comes to writing mysteries. As I played around with the various ideas, I thought about how a little living in secret might be discovered. I thought it might be interesting if she found out that someone was up to something illegal and had to go to court to testify. There were some fun ideas there, like the judge ordering the bailiff to ‘pull down that girl’s pants and make sure she is diapers!’ and then, ‘Training panties may be diapers by the letter of the law, but not the spirit and not in my court. Bailiff, take her and put her in proper court diapers!’ She might even be found in contempt of court for not keeping her pacifier in her mouth. Fun, but it did not quite get where I wanted. When I initially envisioned this story, I figured Emily would end up in diapers. After all, it is the Diaper Dimension, and she is a protagonist little. It’s like a universal law after all. And as I was writing in another person’s world, I wanted to respect that world. And a character who breaks the settings universal laws begins to shift into sueish territories. IMO. But when people started indicating a hope that Emily would ‘win’ I had to give it some thought. However, Ausdpr made a good point, that it is not so much if she will end up in a nursery, but the quality of that nursery. Which became part of Chase’s argument near the end. Plus, come on, 4 foot tall, waifish, cute girl with a messy, self-inflicted bob… I wanted to see her in diapers. I kind of skipped the entire ‘baby training’ part, but as there are lots of excellent stories out there that I did not think that Chasing Emily would suffer from not having such scenes. As a side note in my mind Emily was sent to Miss Fairchild’s School for Maturity and Etiquette. It seems like an excellent place for Chase to get the results she wanted. I hope you enjoyed the story. I appreciate all the feedback I got and found many of the suggestions interesting. Thank you.
  20. I noted their address was within driving distance so I decided to go to their store. It is a nice place. Their showroom is very well laid out, and it is nice to see the things, touch them, get a good idea of the size, and the staff is polite and happy to go into their warehouse to get anything not in the Showroom. As long as they don't move I will probably make a point of visiting every so often to stock up. I picked up their Inspire Plus diapers, which are great, the flannel pull up diapers, the cup cake training panties (so cute), several pairs of plastic pants and some cloth diapers.
  21. JUNE 20 - ADDED A HAND-FULL OF BREAK POINTS TO MAKE IT EASIER TO READ THIS FIRST PART Loose papers, file folders, thick books and numerous legal pads were scattered across the boardroom table. At the head of the table, an older man leaned on the polished oak, looking down at a small pile of documents in front of him. He reached down and flipped open one of the file folders, pulled a post-it note from where it had been stuck. Not looking up he said, “Miss St. James.” “Yes, Mr Cotton?” He looked up then, grey eyes seeking out the young woman. “Go down to the library, I need you to check all the cases from 1986.” Kristine St. James nodded at the tall Oscar Cotton. “Yes sir. What do you want me to find?” He looked at the post-it note again and then said, “You’ll know it when you find it.” Several of the other people in the room, all young men and women, rolled their eyes, and one dark-haired man gave her a sympathetic look. However, Kristine only said, “Yes sir.” Oscar nodded and then began to shift through the documents in front of him. By the door was a polished aluminium coat rack on which hung some expensive suit jackets, mostly blue and black. Kristine took a jacket of dark red, worsted wool and slipped it over a white blouse, open at the collar. Before leaving she grabbed a messenger bag, heavy with the laptop within. Beyond the boardroom was a large, open office space, the perimeter made up of other such boardrooms and offices for the lawyers. She paused, looked around, promised herself she would have one of those offices in two years. As she walked to the elevators the two-inch heels of her pumps clicked on the office's hardwood floor. Hardwood floors were just one of those things that the law firm of Cotton and Black used to set itself apart from the others. The elevator took her down to the lobby, and she crossed the tiled floors, towards the stairs. She was a young woman, looked more or less her twenty-five years, average across the board, maybe a little pretty. No one gave her any more attention than anyone else. She walked down two flights of stairs, into the sub-basement. Cotton and Black had space down there, for storage and the library. Her security key got her into the room. She reached out and flipped on the lights. The fluorescents came on with a quiet but pervasive ‘hum’ and a barely perceptible flicker. “Too bad the clients don’t come down here,” she said, walking over to one of the scarred wooden tables and placing her bag on it. The cases for 1986 occupied their own shelf. Books of past cases and the legal precedents set in them. She pulled several down, carried the heavy armful back to the table, placed them down on one end. From her bag, she brought out a beat up, old laptop, and several pads of legal paper. “Okay, let’s go fishing,” she said, and then pulled a book towards her, sat down, and flipped it open. Time passed. She ran numerous searched on her laptop, filled almost an entire pad with notes and photocopied nearly one hundred pages. Feeling she had found everything she (and Oscar) wanted Kristine put the books back in place and then left the library, snapping off the lights behind her. She had been there for almost four hours, and it was a little after seven in the evening. The offices of Cotton and Black were not empty, but most everyone had gone home. Kristine might have gone home herself, but she really wanted to get things finished up. She sat at her cubicle, a far cry from the office she wanted, logged into the desktop computer and then began to write up the document. It was almost ten when she finally finished putting everything in order. All the precedents neatly organised, from the ones that had the most relevance to the case to the ones that had the least. There were a few good ones there, but nothing that she would have considered a home-run in the case. She could only hope she got what Oscar Cotton had wanted. While the computer logged off, she stretched in her chair, arms above her head. Flopping bonelessly she slumped in her chair, eyes closed. So simple to just fall asleep in the chair. She would feel like hell tomorrow. Standing she took her jacket from the back of the chair, then slipped her arms into it, pulling it straight. Grabbing her messenger bag up she walked through the nearly empty room, towards the elevators. She almost ran into someone coming out of one of the offices. “Oh, sorry,” Kristine said, jumping back. The other woman started, took a step back, then shook her head. “No problem. Here late?” “Yes Mrs Kirk.” Linda Kirk looked at Kristine for a few seconds. “You’re working with Oscar.” “Yes Mrs Kirk.” “St. Just?” “St. James.” “Sorry.” Kristine smiled. “No problem.” Linda nodded and started towards the elevators. She walked slowly, and Kristine took that as an invitation to fall in beside her. Linda was a little taller than average, and her three-inch heels made her stand taller than Kristine. She was a beautiful blonde, blue-eyed woman, looking to be in her late thirties, but probably older than that. Married, as Kristine understood it. Not happily, according to office gossip. Kristine tried not to pay attention to such gossip. Linda was the kind of lawyer that Kristine wanted to be, minus the wedding. “You’ve been here for about six months,” Linda said. “Yes. Came in around April.” “Do you like it here?” She and Linda had arrived at the elevators and Linda reached out and pressed the call button. “I do,” Kristine said. “Are you hoping for a job?” Kristine knew what Linda meant. “Yes.” “Work hours like this and you’ll probably get it.” “Thank you.” “Don’t let it take over your life though.” “Pardon?” “You’re a young woman. I suspect some of the other people articling are out having some fun. God knows I did a few times.” “I’ll remember that, but,” she paused, “I like the job.” Linda looked down at her, not that there was that great of a difference in their heights. “I suppose you do, but still…” The elevator ‘dinged’ and the doors opened. They both stepped in. Kristine reached out and pressed the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, Linda said, “Just don’t burn yourself out.” “I won’t,” Kristine said. They ended up riding down in silence. Kristine looked at the muddy reflection in the dull silver doors. All she could really make out was her dark hair, brown, worn to her shoulders. Different from Linda’s long, blonde hair. “It was nice to speak with you,” Linda said as the elevator doors opened on the lobby, then walked out. “You too,” Linda said, following. Linda’s longer strides made it clear that their conversation was over. Still, she followed Linda across the lobby and out of the building. They went different ways a few steps later, with Linda stopping by the side of the road to hail a taxi while Kristine turned and walked down the block towards the subway entrance. When she reached the platform, she took a moment to check her phone. There was a message from Daniel, the dark-haired young man from earlier in the day. He and the others had gone out for drinks, wanted to know if she was going to come. She considered it for a moment but chose not to, sending him a text message telling him she’d go out drinking tomorrow night. Friday night. Tonight she’d get some sleep and be ready for a busy day tomorrow. In another place a busty woman with cat ears sat in a booth, several women with rabbit ears tight around her, hugging her, pouring her drinks, laughing with her, sharing kisses. The cat-eared woman laughed loud and drank deep. “Another round,” she called out. The rabbit-eared women cheered. “Tac is so generous,” a bunny girl with ridiculously huge breasts said. “Of course I am my sweet little hare, the party never ends,” Tac said. She was well dressed, in a tuxedo cut to flatter her feminine curves, her black hair cut in a short bob that called attention to a long, feminine neck. The waiter came by with a new bottle. He coughed, as if uncomfortable. “You’ve run out of money ma’am.” Tac produced a card from her jacket and handed it to the waiter. “Of course, put another fortune for my tab, and twenty percent for tips across the board!” “Of course ma’am.” The rabbit girls squealed happily, fighting to throw their arms around Tac as the waiter nearly skipped off. “Oh, my life is good!” Tac crowed. A new glass of alcohol (a catnip whisky) had been poured, and Tac was slipping her hands under the clothing of her table mate. “I’m a pussy that knows my stuff,” she told one of the rabbit girls as she slipped a hand between her legs. Someone coughed loudly. Tac looked over her shoulder. Behind her was an older woman, dressed in a severe but beautiful dress. Her lower body was that of a snake. “What is it mama-san?” Tac asked. “Do you have a new girl you want me to meet.” The woman smiled, though it did not touch her eyes. “I am afraid that your card has been denied.” She placed the card on the table. Tac straightened. “Impossible.” She reached for the card. “I am afraid it is true. Do you have another form of payment?” Tac looked at the card, then shook her head. “Only barbarians carry cash.” “Enjoy the bottle, it is your last. Girls.” “Awww, sorry Tac,” one of the girls said as she and the others slipped from the booth. Tac sighed and slipped the card into her jacket. “Share a glass with me Mama-san?” she asked, holding up the still mostly full bottle. “For old times sake,” she replied, slipping the upper part of her body into the booth, leaving her tail to the side. “To the good old days,” Tac said, lifting her glass after she had poured two full tumblers. “You have spent the good old days here,” the snake woman said as she tapped the rim of her glass against Tac’s. “You jest,” Tac said and took a drink. “Why I have hardly been here…” she looked at her watch. “Wow! No wonder they cancelled my card.” “I wish you well,” the snake woman said, finishing the drink. “When you are rolling in money again, you are of course welcome.” “You’ve got a heart of gold Mama-san.” “If that were true I would have cut it out long ago.” That said she slithered off, leaving Tac alone. She poured herself one last drink, then corked the bottle. She had paid for it so she would take it with her. After knocking back the generous measure, she got up and walked with the exaggerated and affected grace of one very drunk. Outside the bar, it was daylight. Bright daylight. Tac’s green cat eyes narrowed, and she raised her free hand up to shade her face. “This sort of day is obscene,” Tac said. “There is only one obscene thing here, and that is you.” Tac turned to the speaker. “Gorgeous,” she said as if the word tasted like ashes. Not entirely living up to her name, the rail-thin Gorgeous with soft brown skin, kohl-lined eyes and perked up Anubis ears seemed a pretty Egyptian princess. “You are an embarrassment,” Gorgeous said. “A sexy embarrassment, with cat class and cat style,” Tac smiled, taking her hand away from her brow to place it across her chest. Gorgeous’ lips twitched into scowl for a moment. “You’ve left your job undone.” “What? You told me to take a couple of years break before starting up work again.” Voice expressing insult as eyes widened in surprise. “A couple of years! Two! Like a married couple. You’ve been in that bar for twenty-three!” “Your definition of marriage seems both heteronormative and supporting only monogamous pairings. In some cultures I am easily married to many of the women in that club,” she took her hand from her chest and made a gesture, pointing behind her with a thumb, “and our ‘couple’ is much larger than two.” “Really? That’s your answer. Twenty-three years in a club and all you can do is argue that you have a different definition of a word? You aren’t even going to act embarrassed that you have been spending a fortune of the organisation’s money on a party?” “So it was you that got my card cancelled. That’s low even for you.” Tac took a few steps forward and stood nearly nose to nose with Gorgeous. “You owe me an apology.” Gorgeous seemed exceptionally off-put by Tac’s attack, and stammered out, “But it was you…” She took a deep breath, threw her shoulders back and puffed out her chest. “If you want your card reactivated you had better do your job. There is a candidate that you have to take care of.” Tac shuffled a step back, realising that she had lost the opportunity to claim the moral high ground. “But it has been twenty-three years, surely that is too late. Maybe it is time I got shuffled into an office job?” “Oh? Now twenty-three years seems too long?” “Well, for the job. The candidate is probably dead right? Humans only live about fifteen years, right?” “You know that is not true!” Gorgeous snapped angrily, taking a step forward. Tac skipped back several steps. “But you got to admit, it is like too late. I mean, what adult would ever accept the deal?” Gorgeous smiled. Tac did not like that smile. “Well, that is your problem now. You want your account reactivated, you get your candidate to accept the contract. And until you do, you are persona-non-grata at the organisation. And don’t expect to get any sort of reference from us if you just decide to quit and seek a new job.” “Well, shit,” Tac said. “Kristine, good work on that report,” Oscar Cotton said as he came into the boardroom. Kristine and the other people assigned to work with Oscar had come in earlier, had been working for about twenty minutes already. “Thank you, Mr Cotton. So I found the precedent you want?” “Not at all,” he told her, smiling. “But it was good work, and it reminded me of what I was looking for.” He held up a law journal and then tossed it onto the table. “I want you to all go through the marked pages,” he told them, “give me your impressions. That is what we will be basing our defence on.” With a focus for their work, Kristine and the others set down to get all of the details hammered out while Oscar put it all together in a cohesive whole. “Miss St. James,” Oscar said near the middle of the day, “would you like to join me in court on Monday?” “Me Mr Cotton?” A moment of modesty, just not to seem too opportunistic. “Yes. I would appreciate it.” But it helped to seem a little opportunistic. “Very good. Okay, let’s dot our i’s and cross our t’s,” he told the rest of the team, smiling. Kristine knew there would be a little bad-blood that she was going to assist Mr Cotton at the trial, but she knew it would not last. She had nursed short-lived grudges about the same thing. A little before six in the evening Oscar pronounced them ready. “Get some rest, have a little fun.” Dismissed they gathered up their things to head out. Daniel fell in beside her as they entered the elevator, Olivia Smoke on her other side. “Going to sit in the big seat,” Olivia teased. Dark hair, dark skinned, handsome, Olivia stood out in all the right ways. “Will you remember us little people?” Daniel asked her. “Just like you remembered us when Mrs Kirk had you help you on the Rafter case?” “I did enjoy lording it over all you peons,” he said, striking an arrogant pose. Kristine and Olivia laughed. “You heard the boss,” Olivia said as she hooked an arm through Kristine’s. “Let’s go and have some fun.” Daniel put a hand on Kristine’s shoulder. “You did promise me to go out drinking tonight.” Kristine laughed as the three of them strode out of the elevator as it opened on the lobby. “Then let’s enjoy a night of debauchery.” Close by were some upper-class bars, very expensive. They stopped in one for a few drinks, letting themselves enjoy the finer things. “For practice when we are all big shot lawyers,” Kristine said. However money did not go far there, and they piled into the subway, heading downtown to less genteel but much cheaper options. They drank heavily, in celebration, for another week done. Daniel handled his booze better than the other two, and watched over them, even when drunk, knocking over glasses that had been left unattended and sending them to get fresh drinks, staying close to them, so they were not bothered too much. Kristine liked him. She liked Olivia more. The two of them, she and Olivia, ended up in a stall in the woman’s bathroom, their hands in each other’s panties. Near last call, Daniel saw them both into taxi cabs. Sending them off to their homes. Kristine sobered up a little on the ride back to her apartment. She stretched lazily in the back seat, and the taxi driver kept up a stream of what sounded like meaningless conversation. One thought dominated her thoughts. On Monday she would be in court. It was going to be an excellent opportunity to learn. The cab dropped her off at a nothing special high-rise, close to the university. Not a bad part of town, but loud students made it less desirable for older people and those with families. Kristine could just afford the small bachelors apartment she rented, with a little left over after food to enjoy a few nights out each week. She passed through the security door, and into the lobby. Took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. She walked stockinged foot along the faded, slightly ratty carpet with the blue and gold pattern, her heels in her hand. When she reached the door to her apartment, a cat waited for her, sitting right in her way. “What’s up?” the cat asked. Kristine frowned. She was nowhere near drunk enough that she should be hallucinating. It was unlikely anyone had slipped her anything. Which meant she was facing a talking animal. “Get the hell out of here,” she told the cat, kicking at it. She did not think to connect, but the cat jumped away from the kick and from the door, and Kristine quickly unlocked it and slid inside. “Damn magic animals,” she said as she pushed the door closed and locked it. “That was hardly nice.” Kristine looked over her shoulder. That cat sat on the floor behind her. “Of course.” She turned and slid down the door, so she was sitting on the floor. “Don’t you have to be invited in?” “You are thinking of vampires.” She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. “What do you want?” “Become a Magical Girl.” “Fuck no!” She said, opening her eyes, straightening to her feet. The cat was gone. In its place was a beautiful woman in a tuxedo, cat ears upon her head. She understood, intellectually, that cat and woman were the same, but it surprised her none the less, and she swayed on her feet. “Come on, don’t be like that?” The woman stepped closer. “I’m Tac. You’re Kristine. Introductions over.” She put a hand on Kristine’s bare hand. “Now become a Magical Girl.” Kristine shivered at the touch and pulled back. “No.” She pushed past Tac and into the centre of the small apartment, between the couch and the TV. “Every girl wants to be a Magical Girl,” Tac told her. “Exactly, every girl. No woman. I’m a woman.” “Don’t I know it,” Tac said with a smile that made Kristine feel as if she were naked. And realise that she might not mind it if she were naked. “Then why ask me? Find some actual girl.” “You’re my target. Sorry. Become a Magical Girl. You’ll be a superhero. What’s so bad about that?” Kristine shook her head, then reached for the TV remote. With a beep, the TV came on. She flipped through the channels until she found what she was looking for. “There. That’s a Magical Girl.” There was some kind of panel show on the TV. One of the guests was a young woman in an extravagant pink mini dress, pink hair done up in an impossible style. “Hey, that Magical Parfait, one of the Baker’s Dozen,” Tac said. “Been forever since I saw them. She’s looking well.” Kristine nodded. “I know who she is. She or some other pathetic once was are always on late night TV, being an embarrassment. That’s what happens to Magical Girls, now that there is nothing left to fight. Why would I become one of those people? It would be embarrassing, becoming a joke, hell I think my employment contract says I can’t become magical.” “You make a few good points, but I don’t really care. Let’s fuck and then you can become a magical girl.” Kristine almost said, ‘Yes to the first part, no to the second.’ Instead, she said, “Get out or I am calling the cops.” Tac took a step back, holding up her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m going, but think about it.” Before Kristine could tell Tac that there was nothing that needed to be thought about, Tac was gone. “God damn magic,” Kristine muttered. BREAK POINT#1 Morning came. Kristine woke in her bed (a folding couch), looking up at her room’s ceiling. She wondered it a magical animal had actually offered her the opportunity to become a magical girl. It seemed like something that should be a dream. But it did not feel like a dream. Well, she had refused it, and that was what mattered the most. She went about her morning routines, then chores. The small apartment made it easy to clean. She held up her suit from the previous night. Partying and bathroom sex had done a bit of a number on it. The suit and a few other things got folded into a bag, to be dropped off at the dry cleaners, different clothes got stuffed in a mesh laundry bag. She would take them down to the building’s laundry room later. Dressing in faded jeans and a smart, cream, peasant blouse, she took up her purse and the bag of clothing and headed out. Standing outside of her door, waiting for her, was the cat. She looked back and forth, to make sure she was alone, then said to the cat, “Go to hell.” “Come on. Become a Magical Girl.” “Go to hell,” she said again, enunciating each word. Then she turned and walked towards the elevators. “You get magic, you’ll be really strong and fast. You won’t ever get a cold again,” the cat told her, following at her heels. “There is not really a downside.” “What part of go to hell don’t you understand,” Kristine asked, looking down at the cat she walked. “Is it the ‘hell’ part? It can’t be the ‘go’ part.” “The part where you won’t become a Magical Girl.” Kristine stopped at the elevators, she jabbed the down button then turned and grabbed the cat, picking it up by its scruff. “Hey, hands off the fur.” Ignoring the outburst she lifted it up, so it was hanging in front of her face, and they were eye to eye. “Get this kitty. I will never become a Magical Girl. Never, ever. If you keep bothering me, I’ll find a magical violin maker and tell them there is some magical catgut around here and they can come and get it.” “Oh real nice. How’d you like it if people were making things out of human organs?” “Don’t bother me again. The answer is and will always be no.” There was the sound of the elevator door opening. Kristine dropped the cat and stepped back into the, fortunately, empty elevator car. The cat did not follow her. Watching the doors closed Tac’s feline eyes narrowed. “If you want to play rough, I can play rough lady. Oh, I can play very rough.” Maybe once the room had been something more. Maybe once it had been clean, and sunlit, where decent people gathered. But that did not seem likely. A handful of lights made the shadows all that deeper. The walls and the floor were bare cement. It smelt of mould, stale vomit, piss and beer. The clientele often smelled just as bad. At the bar, a large figure sat. Swathed in a long overcoat and wide-brimmed hat, seeming to carry a cloud of shadows about itself. Every now and then the bartender would place a glass, filled from an unlabelled bottle, in front of the figure and the figure would throw some tattered bills on the bar. When Tac entered the bar almost every pair of eyes (in a few cases a single eye and in some more than two) was turned towards her. She was obviously out of place, with grace and style that was discordant with the general atmosphere of malignant neglect. A few watchers licked lips or gripped groins, but most identified Tac as bad news and looked away. Tac, after placing a handkerchief on the stool, took a seat beside the large figure. The figure was one of the few who had not looked towards her. “General Hemlock, the First Lance of the Rose Empress… how the mighty have fallen.” Slowly the figure turned its head towards Tac. The brim of the hat cast most of the face in shadow, buy toxic green eyes shone out. “You were with those bitches.” “The Charms, Princess Calliope. She was the one who killed Empress Rose at the end. She was the one that beat you, then left you. She thought she was kind.” The glass Hemlock’s hand shattered. “Yeah, it’s sad. You didn’t die in battle, and you didn’t protect your Empress. And you can’t go home, and you can’t do anything here, except drink.” Hemlock stood, towering over Tac. “Oh dear,” Tac said carelessly. “Are you going to kill me?” For a moment Hemlock stood there, then his shoulders sagged, and he seemed to shrink in on himself. He dropped back onto his stool, turned away from Tac, back to the bar. A few bills were tossed onto the bar, for another drink. “That’s what I thought,” Tac said with a smile. “Still, maybe there is an opportunity. You see, there is a brand new Magical Girl out there. Just maybe you could kill her. Kill a Magical Girl, and you could probably return home, little bit of honour instead of disgrace.” Hemlock’s head dipped, perhaps he was nodding. “Or she kills you, but you die like the great warrior you are.” The bartender placed a new drink in front of Hemlock. Hemlock picked it up and drank most of it in one gulp. “Tell me more,” Hemlock said. Kristine enjoyed a cup of coffee in a small cafe. She had a shopping bag on the seat beside her; her dry cleaning had been dropped off earlier. There was a little more shopping she needed to do but was happy to take a small rest. On Monday she would be in court. That was what mattered. Not some stupid cat who wanted her to become a ridiculous Magical Girl. She finished her coffee, dropped a handful of change beside the empty cup, then left the cafe at a leisurely walk. She looked around, trying to decide where to go first. She saw the people staring before she saw what they were staring at. She followed their gazes and spotted what had attracted so much attention. A ridiculously large figure, dressed in a trench coat, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Was it some kind stunt, she wondered? Her mind on how unbelievable the figure was it took her a moment to realise it was heading towards her. She turned, looked both ways, then dashed across the street as soon as there was an opening. Having a road between her and the strange giant in black made her feel a bit better. The sound of tires screeching and horns honking made her turn. The large figure had stepped onto the road, and even as she watched, one of the cars slammed into him with a metal crunching sound. Knocked forward the figure flew through the air for a few feet and then hit the ground, losing its hat in the process. Kristine’s mouth was open in shock. Then the figure got to its feet. Without the hat an inhuman face was visible, looking more like the rough bark of a tree, with small, glowing green eyes and a simple black slash across the lower part for a mouth. It got to its feet and, ignoring the car, continued forward. Right at Kristine. When she realised it was coming right at her, she turned to run. However, with impossibly long arms it reached out and grabbed her. “Where is she?” the thing screamed at her, drawing her close. Kristine stared at it, fear wide eyes showing white all around. “Where is she?” The words were punctuated with a shake that made muscles hurt. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Kristine almost babbled. It slammed her against the pole of a street light. Kristine was sure bones had broken. “Come out and fight me!” it screamed, then hurled Kristine through a shop window. She was certain something snapped when she hit the glass, then the glass shattered and cut her as she went crashing into a clothing shop. I am going to die. The thought was clear. “Things don’t look good for you.” Kristine shifted her gaze, towards the voice. Tac, as a cat, sat nearby. “What…” “Some monster is going to kill you, sad,” Tac told her. “Help…” “I’d love to, but I am a lover, not a fighter. But you could be a fighter. Want to become a Magical Girl? Better than dying.” There was the sound of glass being crushed, something breaking. That thing was coming after her. She knew this was wrong, but there was too much pain, and her head was ringing. She could hardly think. But she did not want to die. “Okay,” she said, giving up. The cat’s eyes glowed. “Say the words,” it said. The words? What words? Then she knew. The words that would seal the covenant. By the Power of Innocence, I am Nursery Knight Kristine. Those were the words. Those were what she said. She was almost certain what she heard was, ‘By the Powa of Innothenthe, I’m Nurthwy Knight Kwithy’. However at the moment what she heard was not as important as what was happening. The pain faded, the cuts closed up, and bruises disappeared. Her clothing changed, though she could not see, and it felt weird. Something was happening to her hair like someone was combing it and styling it. As she stood, she felt something weigh her hand down and looked to see she was holding some odd looking, giant plastic looking mace. It looked like… “You!” She turned towards the monster. “You are the Magical Girl!” “I guethh I am,” she said and wondered again at what she heard. The monster charged her. Without thinking she swung the mace out to crash into the monster. The blow lifted it from its feet and hurled it out the window. Wow! She was strong. “You better finish it off before anyone gets hurt,” Tac said. Kristine did not want to finish anything off, but if she did not then, it might very well hurt others. And it might come after her again. So she went out, leaping through the smashed window, onto the street. The monster was getting up from where it had landed, in the middle of the street. “I am the late Empress Rose’s General Hemlock, and I dedicate your death to her memory and honour!” it screamed. Words again flashed through her mind, “Innothent Wattle Thaker!” Leaping forward she swung the mace around, bringing it down on the monster’s head. The force of the blow drove General Hemlock to his knees, and the asphalt under it cracked. Its head was twisted over to the side. “Ah, still too weak,” it said sadly. “Finish me Mag…” Kristine hit it again, hard as she could. It did not move. Stepping back she thought she should be breathing heavily, thought her heart should be beating like a drum, but neither of those things were true. She felt perfectly fine. Perfectly calm. “Good job,” Tac said from where she had leapt up onto the broken windowsill. Kristine tuned towards the cat. She noticed people around her had lifted their phones, were taking pictures or videos. They seemed amused. “Don’t worry,” Tac said, “no one can get a good picture of you.” A few people started laughing, laughing at her. She moved, fast, faster than anyone might expect. She was not even sure how she did it, she just did. A man stumbled back from her, but she took his phone from him before he could stop her. He did not seem to think things were so funny. She turned it around and looked at the picture. The face was blurry, and there was something indistinct about the picture. Likely what Tac had meant when he said no one could get a good picture of her. But she could see enough to know why people were laughing. The girl in the picture was dressed in a ridiculous baby blue, child’s party dress, with a puffy skirt and puffed sleeves and a big bow in the back. And the puffy skirt was short enough to make it evident that the girl was wearing a diaper. Carrying a comically colossal rattle (her mace) with a pacifier clipped to the dress, hanging off a white ribbon. Oh, and her hair was done up in pigtails. “Cat, what the hell ith thith!?” “Magical Girl Nursery Knight Kristie,” the cat said. “What do you think a Nursery Knight would wear?” Kristine looked around. People were watching her, still taking pictures. She hated it, hated that they were looking at her like some kind of joke. Without thinking about it, she snapped up the pacifier and put it in her mouth. I just want this to all go away, she thought. It did not, but the people looked surprised. They lowered the phones they had been using to take her picture, looked around in confusion. “The pacifier makes you invisible to almost anyone but me, and probably soothes you as well,” Tac said, walking towards her. “No, don’t take it out of your mouth, not if you don’t want everyone staring at you. Why don’t you give the nice man back his phone and then we’ll take a walk.” Kristine nodded and slid the phone into the man’s pocket, as quick as she had taken it from him. He made a sound of surprise, looking around. “Come on,” Tac said. Kristine followed, the pacifier in her mouth, waddling slightly because of the bulk between her legs. It was humiliating. At least no one could see her now. And no one would be able to identify her from the pictures. The cat led the way down the street and into an alley. She jumped up on a dumpster and turned to give Kristine a look over. “Very nice,” Tac said after a few seconds. “Extraordinarily cute. Just what I would expect of a Nursery Knight.” Kristine wanted to take the pacifier from her mouth and swear a blue streak at the cat but did not want to risk becoming visible again. She shifted from foot to foot in agitation. “Well, let’s start your lessons. So, you have a mace, solid weapon, looks like a Silver 7 special version, so you can teleport.” “Tewepot?” she mumbled around the pacifier. “Right. Let’s start simple. Turn around, see that big building there? Look up at the edge of the roof, and just kind of will yourself there.” She turned, looked as she had been told. She felt Tac’s weight land on her shoulder. Well, it was magic. She focused on the edge and pictured herself appearing there. There was a momentary sensation of vertigo, and she felt as if she had just gone over the first drop of a rollercoaster. Then she realised she was standing on the edge of the roof, about twenty stories up. “Am’zing,” she said, the pacifier coming out of her mouth, dropping down to fall the length of the ribbon. She stepped forward, completely onto the roof. Tac jumped from her shoulder. “Excellent for a first try. With enough practice, you’ll be able to go anywhere.” Momentarily stunned by the wonder of it all she nodded, and then shook her head in denial. “I am dwethed like a fucking toddwer.” “Yes,” Tac said with a nod. “You are. Very cute too, thought the swearing ruins the effect really.” “I don’t care that thwearing… No. Not going to be thidetwacked. Magical Girlth are thupposed to look like thripper cheerleaderth, or hooker waitretheth, or bondage nunth, or naughty thchool girlth. They’re not thuppothed to look like toddwerth.” “Well one,” Tac said, “not all magical girls are short skirted stripper types, it’s rude to group them all like that.” “I don’t care.” “And second, you are a Nursery Knight. Nursery Knights were all girls six and under who fought the Nightmare King. What would you expect them to be dressed like?” There was a lot in that and Kristine had a great deal of difficulty processing it, but she said, “I am in diapeeth!” “Well, who knew if girls that age would be fully potty trained? Better to have them in diapers, just in case I suppose.” “Thith ith inthane.” The cat nodded. “Yes, somewhat. The entire Nursery Knight thing was ill-conceived if you ask me. A pet project of some middle management type I've heard. But here we are, you dressed as a toddler and wearing a diaper and me having to teach you to be a Magical Girl. Best we get on with this and then put it all behind us, right?” Kristine started at the cat for several second, gripping the huge, rattle/mace tight. She wondered if that cat would make a squeaking sound were she to hit it. “You thet me up,” she said after a second. “That is a serious accusation, and seeing as you killed the only possible witness, not one that you can prove.” Kristine found herself making a growling sound. “You’d have to prove it, right,” the cat said with a smile (a good trick). “If you could be certain you’d try to pound me into kitty pate paste, but you can’t, so you won’t.” She loosened her grip on the mace. “I learn what you teach. You go away, and I never have to twanthform again?” “You learn what I have to teach, I go away, and if you chose to never transform again that is your business, but you keep the benefits of longevity, durability and the ridiculous heath of those touched by this magic. A pretty good deal, don’t you think?” “Just thtart the lessonth cat. Thooner we finithh the thooner I can get back to my life.” “Okay, very well.” The cat turned into a woman. “Let’s start with banishing and summoning your weapon, Magical Girl 101.” Kristine sighed. “All right, what do I do?” “Just focus on your weapon and imagine it being somewhere else, a closet or a room, or under a tree you know well.” Kristine took a deep breath. She imagined the mace as being in the closet in her old dorm room. The weapon was gone. “Oh.” “Good job.” “Did it weally go where I ‘magined it?” “No,” Tac said, shaking her head. “It was just important you pictured it being somewhere else. Now for summoning, just imagine yourself reaching out and grabbing it.” Kristine could not help but be a little excited by this. While she genuinely had no desire to be a Magical Girl, there had been a time, when she was younger, when she had fantasised about that very thing. And now she was doing magic. Reaching out with her hand she closed her fingers around the empty air. The mace appeared in her hand as if she had just grabbed it. “I did it.” “You are picking this up fast. I’d say you’re a natural.” Tac’s voice and tone cut through the euphoria of magic, reminding Kristine that she had not wanted this, had been forced into it. Completely soured the experience. Tac, seemingly unaware of the change in atmosphere said, “Okay, let’s practice something a little more advanced.” “What?” Kristine hoped it was some offensive magic that would let her smash the grin off of Tac’s face. “Teleportation to a place you cannot see,” Tac announced. Kristine nodded. She could see the value in that. “Okay, picture your apartment, see it in your mind. Close your eyes if it helps.” Kristine closed her eyes, thought about her apartment. She could see it in her mind. She felt something land on her shoulder. Assumed that Tac was a cat again. Right in her ear, Tac said, “Once you can see it, just imagine yourself there.” She felt that sense of vertigo, of the roller coaster drop again, and then, when she opened her eyes, she was in her apartment, standing on her coffee table. The table legs creaked slightly beneath her. “Good job,” Tac said, jumping down from her shoulder. Kristine stepped down from the table. Again, there was that feeling of amazement. She had to keep herself from shouting, ‘This is Magic.’ “What next,” she asked as if teleporting was something that had already become old hat. “Well,” Tac the cat said, turning to look at her, “how about you change back?” “Finally. What do I have to do? Thout out thomething?” “Not for turning back. Just picture yourself untransformed.” “There ith a lot of vithualithation to this magic.” “It was made so non-magic types could master it easily. Very point and click, if you get my meaning.” Kristine thought she should be insulted, but she closed her eyes and pictured herself back to normal. Seeing in her mind the young, twenty-something woman in jeans and a blouse. The thickness between her legs disappeared, the sense of bare skin and fluffy petticoats, of hair, pulled back into pigtails, all faded. So much better. Then her jeans slipped down to her ankles, and her panties to her knees. “What the hell?” she said, eyes open, looking down. Her legs were skinnier than she recalled, smoother. “Well that was unexpected,” Tac said. She almost tripped on her pants as she ran for the washroom. Her panties were kicked off along the way. In the mirror she was looking at a familiar stranger. In the pictures she had seen the blurred out face and the ridiculous outfit had made it hard to notice. In the mirror was the child she had once been. She spun to stare at Tac, feeling the far too big bra shifting loosely on her. “What the hell?” “As I said, unexpected.” “What is this?” “Well, you were supposed to get this magic when you were three or four. You were about twenty-five when you did get it. I suppose the magic split difference.” “Split the difference?” “Split the difference,” the cat said with a nod. Kristine screamed. She reached down and snatched up the cat. “My life is ruined,” she yelled into its cat face. “Your life is ruined? What about me?” “What about you?” “I love to have sex with the magical girls I guide, and was looking forward to conquering you, but you’re right out of my strike zone now. It is a real disappointment.” Kristine made a few strangled sound of outrage before hurling the cat across the room. As soon as she did it, she felt terrible. She was not the sort of monster to hurt an animal. Tac hit the far wall with a thump, slid down to the floor. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she said, stepping hesitantly across the floor, afraid of what she would see. The cat bobbed up, leaping on the back of the couch. “I’m fine, take more than that to hurt me.” She dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry, that was terrible. I mean, you’re a jerk, but you did not deserve that.” Her earlier anger had all drained away leaving her exhausted. “I’m not a jerk. I am quite nice.” “Nice?” “Don’t shoot the messenger. The Nursery Knights were not my idea, and I certainly did not come up with the uniform.” She dropped her head forward. “This is a mess. My life is ruined. I don’t even have an identity anymore.” “Sure you do.” She shook her head, not looking up. “I don’t. I look like the little sister I never had. Kristine St. James might as well be dead.” “Okay, first, the identity stuff can be taken care of.” Kristine looked up. “And second, you’re pissing yourself.” She looked down. There was a puddle of urine under her. “What the hell?” she looked up helplessly at the cat. Tac seemed to shrug her shoulders. “I guess someone thought the Nursery Knights should be using those diapers.” “Fuck,” Kristine yelled, jumping to her feet, the socks on her feet absorbing some of the urine. The tails of her blouse were wet. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Am I going to be pissing myself all the time now?” She paused, eyes widening. “Am I going to shit myself?” Tac’s cat shoulders gave a shrug again. “Hell if I know. Maybe?” “Oh god.” Her knees went weak, and she almost fell onto the floor. “Okay, there is something we can do,” Tac said, jumping down from the back of the couch onto couch itself. “Really?” she felt her hopes soar. “Not that you won’t be wetting yourself, but we can manage it.” Her hopes plummeted. “Hey, buck up. Now, first thing lets summon your Magic Bag.” “Magic Bag?” She was still standing in her own pee, the inside of her thighs damp, but if there was something she could do… “All Magical Girls can summon their Magic Bag, it holds various things they need. And summoning it is a good lesson.” She stepped out of the puddle, shucking off her loose socks. If there were something in this Magic Bag that could help, then she would summon it. “How do I do it?” “Just like you called your weapon back to you,” Tac said. Visualize it and then picture yourself having it. Kristine nodded. She pictured a bag. She reached out for it. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. “It’s not working,” she said, blushing when she heard how winey her tone sounded, so close to tears. “You’re picturing the bag in your mind?” “Yes,” Kristine said with a nod. “What does the bag look like?” “Pardon?” “What kind of bag are you picturing?” Tac asked. Kristine looked over towards the apartment’s front door. “Like the messenger bag I use for work.” “Do you think a Nursery Knight would have a bag like that?” Kristine thought about it. “I don’t know?” “Well, they wouldn’t. Think of a colour that matches your uniform. Add some frills to it.” Kristine nodded, closed her eyes. She pictured the messenger bag, but in pastel colours, with a little bit of frill. She reached out, closed her hand on it. She felt something heavy settle in her grip. She opened her eyes. In her hand was the padded strap of a large bag, baby blue, quilted, big pockets on the outside, a kitty face appliqué on it. “This,” she paused, “is a diaper bag.” “Which is exactly the kind of bag a Nursery Knight would have.” Kristine held it at arm's length like it was a dead rat. “You have to open it,” Tac said as if Kristine were a little slow. Having a cat cast aspersions on her intelligence was a new low in a day of lows. Sighing loudly she put the bag on the floor, avoiding the puddle, and bent down to open it. It was filled with disposable diapers and training panties, powders and creams. There was a folded, quilted changing pad, plastic and rubber panties, wipes, bottles, a sippy cup, jars of baby food nested in a collection of bibs. And there was a teddy bear with a light blue ribbon around its neck and a few more things she could see but did not bother to try to identify. She made a grunt of derision. “There is a lot of things in there,” Tac said, jumping close and looking into the bag. “Grab a pair of training panties and put them off to the side. Kristine did, pulling a pair of the thick panties from the bag, there was a soft crinkling sound of the plastic under the faux material covering. “The bag will always have supplies in it, no matter how much you take from it, so at least you won’t have to buy diapers and stuff. That’s good, right?” She stared at the cat. The hand holding the training panty tightening into a first, making the plastic rustle and the padding squeak. “Tough crowd.” She threw the training panties onto the coffee table. “Okay, so I got a pair of training panties for the next time,” her face grew warm, “I piss myself, is that it?” She could not believe she had just said. “Of course not. This is magic. Pick up the teddy bear and say, ‘I need your help Mr Bear.’” Kristine looked at the bear, frowned, then reached in and took it from the bag. It had the solid feeling of a well-made thing, with incredibly soft fur. If she were the kind of woman, who liked teddy bears she was pretty certain she would like this one. “I need your help Mr Bear.” Nothing happened. She looked at Tac. The cat gave her another of those pitying looks that suggested she was slow. “Is that how a Nursery Knight would talk?” It took her a few seconds to get what Tac meant. She blushed. “I need your help Mithter Bear.” The bear twisted out of her hands, landed on the floor close by and then, with a pop of displaced air, became a stuffed bear, probably a little over six feet tall. Kristine made an expression of surprise and fell backwards onto her bottom. The bear looked around, glittering eyes pausing on the puddle of urine, and then on Kristine. “What is this cat?” “It is your Mr Bear.” “My…” she started, but suddenly Mr Bear had stepped close, grabbed her (somehow with those stuffed bear paws) and lifted her to her feet. With a blur of motion it had her blouse off, leaving her only in her ill-fitting bra. “What the…” The bear tossed the blouse and bra into her laundry hamper (she swore she saw it look at the laundry label first) then had a t-shirt from her dresser and was back by Kristine’s side before she finished her thought. With an upsweep of its fluffy arms its lifted Kristine’s arms above her head, and with a down sweep had the t-shirt on her. “…hell….” Mr Bear put a giant paw across her mouth. Kristine got the idea that it did not approve of such language. Then it was blurring off again, to the bathroom, coming back with a towel and some cleaning supplies. In a moment the urine puddle was cleaned up. She had to admit that was helpful. “So what, it cleans up messes?” she asked Tac. “Among other things.” “Among what…” Again she was kept from finishing her sentence as Mr Bear scooped her up, put her on the couch, and reached into the diaper bag for one of the very thick diapers. “How do I stop this?” Kristen asked as the bear secured her ankles and lifted her bottom off the couch. “Say ‘Thank you Mr Bear, I love you.’” “Tank you Mithter Bear, I wuv you,” she said, not having to be told to lisp. With another pop of displaced air the bear returned to its original size and then it, and the diaper fell neatly back into the diaper bag. Kristine scrambled off the couch, closed the bag, and without being told how sent the bag away. With a sigh she collapsed bonelessly to her knees. “What the hell?” “Your Mr Bear is your caretaker,” Tac said as she jumped back onto the couch. “Remember, the Nursery Knights were all to be pre-schoolers. They would need help. Mr Bear would clean up their messes, change them, feed them, comfort them and if they were bad punish them.” “Bad? Punish them?” “They were little girls given a stupid amount of magical offensive power. It was a pretty certain thing they would abuse that power. So, Mr Bear would deal with that.” “Great, I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman who looks like an eleven-year-old girl with a magical teddy bear that will treat me like I am two… that is the shape of things, right?” “More or less. Oh, Mr Bear can show up on its own.” She stared at the cat. “What?” “Well, you couldn’t trust a little girl to know when she needed help.” “So you’re saying I could just be walking along and suddenly a six-foot-tall teddy bear will show up and… what, change me?” “Or give you a bottle, or put you down for a nap, or spank you if you are naughty.” “Fu… Now I’m afraid to swear.” “Swearing is a bad habit. Mr Bear will help you deal with other bad habits if you have any.” “Just drinking to excess and bathroom sex,” she muttered. “Those are great bad habits to have,” Tac told her, “if you did not look like a child. I would suggest you avoid them as I am pretty sure Mr Bear would intervene.” “You think?” “Your lucky sarcasm is not naughty.” Kristine looked over at the training panty on the coffee table. She grabbed it, stood up, and pulled it on. It slid up her legs and over her bottom, the padding nestling up to her groin, feeling impossible soft, evident in its thickness. She placed her hands on it, noting it fit perfectly. Angrily she pulled down on the bottom of her t-shirt to make sure it was hidden. “Okay, now I don’t have to worry about making a mess.” She tried not to sound embarrassed, but the warmth in her cheeks told her that her body had betrayed her. “Now let’s hear about how I get my life back.” “Last time I was around here the internet was starting to take off. You still have that?” “Yes.” She wondered when the last time Tac had been in the mortal world. “Alright. So you can find stuff on that. You’ll want to search for government support of magical issues.” Kristine went and got her phone and took a seat on her couch. “Where’s your computer? What are you doing with that?” “This is my phone, and it can do everything a computer can.” “Really,” the cat moved in close to look. “Well I’ll be darned. You manage to do pretty well without magic.” “We try,” Kristine said in a snarky tone as she searched for what she had been told. It did not take her long to find a government site and a phone number for magical issues. She got a phone robot that asked her to state what she was calling about. “I became a Magical Girl, and now I don’t look like myself.” There was a pause, and then the system said, “It sounds like you have undergone some kind of transformation. Is this true?” “Yes.” A few more questions which she answered. Then it asked if she had a liaison. “Do I have a liaison?” she asked Tac. “That’s me,” the cat told her. “Yes,” she told the robot. “Please give your liaison’s code,” the robot asked. “Code?” she looked at Tac. Tac gave her a series of numbers and letters. She spoke them back into her phone. “Just a moment,” the robot said, and there was a click. Then a real person said, “Magical Issue Support, you have undergone a transformation?” “Yes, I have. I became a Magical Girl, and after I transformed back, I looked totally different.” “I understand,” the woman said as if she heard such calls all the time. “Can you tell me where you live?” Kristine did. The woman gave her an address, asked if she could make it there. Kristine checked and then said, “Yes, in about an hour I guess.” “Please go to that address, bring all the identification you have. Someone will be there. Ask for Mr Green.” “Mr Green, I understand.” She was given a case code, told to quote it if she had to call back, then the woman hung up. “That was not too bad for a government agency,” she said, hanging up. “The magical realm makes sure there is good support available.” She put her phone aside and got up, realising she needed something to wear. It did not take her long to realise there was nothing that would fit her. She found a pair of shorts, used a belt to cinch them up tight around her skinny waist. A pair of sandals, the straps pulled as tight as she could get them, gave her something for her feet. Then she gathered up her various ID cars, credit cards, bank cards, her passport and everything else she had that identified her. Tac watched her but said nothing. She had everything she needed. “Are you coming with me?” she asked the cat. She was a little nervous about some magic related government agency and though she was not going to say that she hoped Tac might take the hint. “Sure.” She left her apartment, Tac riding on her shoulder. BREAK POINT#2 The taxi that Kristine had called dropped her off in front of a nondescript government building in the downtown core. She stood there, looking about, noting that a few people were taking note of her. She told herself that was because she was dressed in a ridiculous manner and not because they knew she was wearing training panties. Still, it was hard not to think that they were somehow showing, or they were making her walk a little different, or there was a soft rustle of plastic, or that she had wet them and they were leaking. She could not stop herself from surreptitiously checking her shorts for damp spots. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the building. It had an old look, with clean but dull black and white tiles on the floor, and high ceiling of much-patched plaster. No one was in the lobby except for a single security guard sitting at a desk near the elevators. He did not look up when she entered, his attention on the book he was reading. When she got closer he looked up from the book and asked, “Can I help you?” He did not get up from behind his desk. “Uh, yes. I was told to come here, to ask for Mr Green.” “Take the elevator up to the ninth floor, third door on your right,” he told her. “Thanks.” She crossed the floor to the elevators. The guard had gone back to reading his book. The doors opened a moment after she pressed the button. She took a surprised step back, wondering how someone had known to have it waiting. Then she realised she was stupid. It was a weekend. No one was there, and likely all the elevators were just stopped at the ground floor. She stepped in and pressed the button for the ninth floor. The interior walls were polished, metal mirrors. Tac jumped from her shoulder and was once more a woman. “This place has a classic feel,” Tac said, looking at her reflection. She reached into the pocket of her suit jacket and took out a lipstick tube. “As do I.” She touched up her makeup. Kristine had already gotten a good look at herself, and the mirrored walls showed her nothing she did not already know (except for maybe making it clear how much a ragamuffin she looked). However, standing beside the sexy Tac, the changes were brought into stark relief. She was a child, well, she looked like one. When they had first met Kristine figured she was a near equal in the looks department to Tac. Now, of course, it was no contest. As she was there was no way she could compete. Before she could think on that much more the doors opened. She stepped out, leaving the mirrors and their brutal truths behind. Third door on her right. A slab of wood, no windows, old, metal doorknob. She tried it. The door opened. There was an empty reception counter behind it, beyond which a waiting room. Six doors, one an obvious bathroom. One of the doors opened. An older man stepped out. Thinning black hair, tanned skin, gold-rimmed glasses and a blue suit. “I’m Mr Green,” he said, looking her up and down. “Kristine St. James.” “You have your ID?” “Yes.” “Please.” He stepped aside and indicated that she should enter the office. Kristine walked around the counter and into the room beyond, Tac at her heels. It was an office, with a big oak desk and a single visitor chair. Kristine took that seat. Tac became a cat and jumped onto her knee. Mr Green stepped beside her. “Your ID?” She reached into her bag and brought it all out. Taking it, he went and sat down behind the desk. “That is a rather large change,” he told her as he looked through everything she had given him. “I know.” “Well, this is all simple enough.” “What?” She could not believe anything about what had happened was simple. “We’ll give you bridging ID, as well as new ID, all of it will allow you to prove to people who you are. Do you want a new identity?” Kristine thought about that for a moment, then asked, “What good would a new identity do me?” “Depends. If there is anyone after you, creditors, ex-boyfriends, that sort of thing, a new identity can be useful.” She frowned. “Do other magical girls get new identities?” “Not often at first, after several months it is more common.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Very well.” Mr Green stood. “This way.” In one of the other offices, there was a camera and several impressive looking printers. Mr Green took her picture and then printed out several pieces of ID. The bridging ID, as he had called it, mated her old ID with new, while the new ID just showed her as she now looked. It took about thirty minutes, then he handed the bundle of ID to her. “I’ve put in a request for a new passport, that should be delivered to you soon. If you need anything else call this number.” He handed her a card. “Like a new identity?” “Or legal assistance. It sometimes happens.” She did not say she was a lawyer (or almost one) but took his card. “Thank you.” “Good luck Miss St. James.” “Thank you.” She stepped from the room, then looked back at Mr Green. “Can I use the bathroom?” “Feel free.” She nodded. The washroom was small, with a toilet and a urinal as well as a sink. The tiling on the floor was old, faded and cracked in a few places, but the bathroom was clean. She reached through the leg of her shorts, felt the training panties. As she suspected they were warm, the padding swelled up with a wetting. “Damn,” she said softly as she loosened her belt. Summoning the diaper bag was easy. Kristine was a little worried Mr Bear might jump out, but the teddy bear remained a toy, and she took out a new training panty and dismissed the bag. Changed into a fresh pair of the absorbent panties she left the bathroom. Cat Tac was waiting for her. No sign of Mr Green. She left the office without looking for him. In the lobby, the guard was still reading his book. He did not look up as he wished her a good afternoon. Before going home, Kristine went to do some shopping. Tac came with her, in human form, though she was soon off in stores and parts of stores that Kristine knew she would look ridiculous were she to shop in. She had to try on a few things to get her new size figured out, and she needed to rethink her old style choices. That was made clear when a pair of tight jeans, which was just the kind of thing she would have bought before, made the padding of her training pants visible. She found a pair of denim overalls, lose enough in the seat to hide any puffiness from undergarments that she thought looked okay for her new body type. Paired with a white, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of running shoes she thought she looked good. Well, she looked like a girl, but at least a girl who did not dress too childlike. She bought a few more things, using cash. In theory with her bridging ID, she could use her credit cards, but she did not want to deal with that. Her final stop was to buy some training bras. She did not think she actually needed a bra, but she had been wearing one for long enough she was not willing to give it up. Tac came with her and seemed to make a point of looking at sexy bras in large cup sizes. The woman at the shop was kind and helpful, though from her look Kristine was pretty certain that she was of the opinion Kristine did not actually need one. Kristine walked out of the store with three training bras that were really just cotton vests with a bra like design. Like a little girl being sent out with some to salve a childish bit of vanity. Getting home, she dropped her shopping bags at the door and went to her bathroom to check her training panties. They were wet. Of course. “Fuck,” she said softly, then, with her coveralls and training panties around her ankles, sat on the toilet. Maybe she could re-potty train herself if she just made an attempt. “Hey, did you fall in?” she heard Tac call from the other side of the door several minutes later. “I didn’t fall in,” she retorted as she got off the toilet. She bent down and pulled up the training pants. The now cool, wet padding pressed uncomfortably against her, but she would put up with it. She was still buttoning the strap of her overalls when she came out to find Tac the cat sitting on the coffee table. “Now that you are finished in there we need to talk about work.” “Work? What does the law firm have to do with anything?” “Not your mundane and boring work that does not matter. Your work as a Magical Girl.” “What do you mean it does not matter?” “You said it yourself. No magic, and it is not like the little girl you are now can go to work after all.” “You’re asking to be picked up and thrown again,” Kristine said snapped as she went over to get her phone. “What are you doing?” Tac asked her. “Sending Mr Cotton an email. You’re right, damn it, I can’t go to work like this, but I have to let him know what happened.” She paused. How was she going to explain what happened? What could she tell him? The truth. Well, at least as much as the truth as he needed. The email was simple to write. Kristine told him she had encountered magic, had been changed by it, and could not be present at work, but would like to speak with him about it, to explain in detail. It was short and left so much unsaid, but it was good enough. She sent it and then tossed the phone onto the couch, dropped down beside where it landed. Her training panties ‘squelched’ unpleasantly around her bottom. “Finished with your pointless mundane job issues?” Tac asked. “Fuck off.” “Little girls that talk like that get their mouths washed out… assuming they still do that.” “Child abuse,” Kristine said, putting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “Well, your Mr Bear probably does not know that, so watch your tone. And I would love to fuck off, and I can say it because I am a mature adult, but until I finish training you, I can’t leave. So let’s talk about your real job, the one you accepted when you accepted your Magical Girl powers.” Kristine said nothing for a few seconds, then in a despondent tone said, “Fine, but what am I supposed to do? Didn’t you say the Nursery Knights,” she hated that name, “defeated their enemy?” “The Nightmare King, and yes, he was defeated, so I can’t train you fighting him and his minions, but there are always useful enough targets for you to focus on.” “Like what?” “Smugglers.” “Smugglers?” If you could line of sight teleport, you could move across the city quite fast. It was exhilarating, the roller coaster stomach drop of each jump, appearing on the top of some building’s roof, looking out over the sea of skyscrapers for the next jump, and then it repeated. For moments Kristine could forget she was outfitted as an overgrown toddler, with a thick diaper pushing her thighs apart. A diaper that for all she knew might already be wet. In those moments she felt powerful. Faster than any car might have covered the distance, perhaps as fast as a helicopter might have, Kristine reached the edge of the city, where the buildings became smaller but sprawled more, warehouses that took up entire city blocks. They were near the docks, though not close to the well lit, busy sections, where huge cranes moved cargo containers. They were on the edge, where warehouses gave away to empty factories, a part of the city where things had started to decay, where dreams had faded. “Down there,” Tac told her from where the cat rode on her shoulder. Tac held out a paw, pointing towards a warehouse on the water’s edge, where a ruined quay was half sunk into the water. “And put your pacifier in your mouth so you’ll be invisible.” She grabbed the pacifier from where it hung on the ribbon, popped it into her mouth and began to suckle on it. As before it made her feel better. She hoped it was not addictive. Focusing on the low roof of a warehouse below she once more crossed the distance in a moment, ended up standing on the edge of a roof, looking down at cracked asphalt apron in front of the shuttered loading dock. There were a large number of men down there, carrying travelling trunk sized crates out of the warehouse and loading them into several rental trucks. They worked by the light of red filtered flashlights, kept their voices down. “They have gotten armour from the magical realm. It’s old crap where I come from, but here it will stop even heavy armour piercing rounds,” Tac said into her ear. “Why do I haf to thtop thmugglerth?” she asked around her pacifier. “Well, the magical realm really should have stopped this stuff from being exported, so it falls on agents like you to deal with it. And this is good training. They don’t have any weapons that could stop you.” “Weally?” Kristine asked. “The armour of your outfit could probably stop a tank round. They are just going to have handguns.” Handguns? “Wiwl thith outfit weally pwotect me?” It left her arms and face and almost all her legs bare. “Trust me,” Tac said. She hated the fact she had to trust Tac. “Just jump down there and tell them you are here to punish them as Nursery Night Krissy.” “I don’t wanna. Can’t I jutht thtay invithible and walk awound hittin’ dem on da head?” “No. You are a magical girl, not some nocturnal mammal themed vigilante. You are a symbol of the power of innocence, and you don’t get to be a symbol by hiding. You don’t want to throw your magic off. It might not work.” “Tho, it might not pwotect me?” “Well, it won’t fail you completely, but it is likely to hurt a lot more.” “Fine,” she sighed through the pacifier, then she spat it out and jumped down onto one of the truck’s roof, calling up her mace as she fell. She landed with a creaking of heavy suspension and crunching of metal as the roof cratered and cracked around her. That was crazy, she thought, she just jumped down two stories. No time to overthink on that. Stepping to the edge of the truck’s roof, looking down at the smugglers, she said, “I am Nurthewy Knight Kwithy! Thwow down your weaponth and thuwender or I will punith you.” Punish? Ugh. What a terrible choice of words. The men below her swore and expressed shock, fear, confusion. Some looked like they were ready to run. Other pulled out the pistols that Tac had mentioned. She jumped down from the truck, landing on one of the crates. It shattered beneath her feet. She pointed the mace at one of the smugglers. “Thuwender.” The man shot her. Guarantee of protection or not, the sight of the gun being fired, the boom of the shot, it made her scream, and she fell backwards, landing on her diapered bottom. She did not have time to think about it, but she was certain that fear had ensured the diaper was well used at that moment. Something had touched her head. That was the best way to explain how it felt, a gentle touch. Something rolled down the side of her face. She looked. It seemed to be a flattened bullet. “What are you doing?” Tac yelled from the roof. “You can’t be scared of a little pistol.” “Fine,” Kristine yelled as she jumped to her feet, swinging the mace out, even as the man was shooting her. The heavy mace smacked into his hand, knocking the gun aside with a crunch of breaking bones. The man screamed in pain, falling to the ground, clutching his ruined hand. “What are you doing?” Tac yelled from the roof. “You can’t hit them that hard. Use a little control. You're an adorable Nursery Knight, not some bone breaking vigilante.” “Thith ith tho annoying,” she shouted, as several more men fired at her and several others made to escape. She moved fast, even though she was waddling, and struck with as much control as she could manage. She used the handle of her mace to knock weapons from hands, to jab into guts and sweep feet. No more broken bones, just bruises and pokes that took the fight and the flight out of them. When it was over about a minute later she stood among the moaning men who lay on the ground about her. Tac had jumped down onto the roof of one of the trucks. “Now secure them so the police can come and pick them up.” “Thecure them?” “Handcuffs or the like, Just envision it and then call out the magic that comes to you.” Handcuffs, okay. Just picture them all with their arms cuffed behind their backs, except for the one whose hand and wrist she had broken. She imagined more of a sling type cast on him. She held up her mace and called out the words the came to her. “Naughty Boyth thhut up and thtay thtill,” she yelled. Those were not the words she had expected to come out of her mouth. Around the men sparking light appeared, falling around them, lifting them, and then coalescing into… wheeled chairs with various restraint straps. Oh hell, they were all large strollers, she thought. Around their hands formed pink mittens that fastened the men's hands behind their backs with pink ribbons. And pacifier gags. Well, she supposed they were going to stay still and shut up, but really. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Tac asked. “I jutht did what you thaid,” Kristine yelled as she turned on Tac. “I pictured them rethtwained, with handcuffth. It ith the thtupid magic.” “What a mess. I mean, it’s like your some kind of bondage pervert.” “I’m not a bondage pewvert,” she yelled up at Tac. “Well, that’s not… Look out!” “What…” Pain. Like fire painted in a line across her back. She fell forward onto her knees. Behind her, the sound of metal scraping across the ground. No thought. She raised the mace above her head. Something hit it with a crash. The force of it feeling as if it would dislocate her shoulders. She rolled forward, her back flaming in fresh pain as it moved across the ground. Up on her feet. Facing her attacker. A man, in armour, holding a sword. “That sword is from the Magical Realm,” Tac called out. “It can hurt you.” “No thit,” Kristine said as she parried another sword strike. The man was relentless, coming at her fast, forcing her entirely on the defence. Several times the tip of the blade traced out red lines on her arms and legs, even cutting her clothing. The laceration on her back bled freely. She could feel the blood running down her back, likely into her diaper. What a mess that would be. Tac shouted out less than useful advice as Kristine tried to find a way to attack. What was some crook with a magical sword doing beating her? She was a Magical Girl. She was a Magical Girl. “Innothent Wattle Thaker!” Swinging out her mace she slammed it into the sword. The sword shattered under the blow. She swung the mace back, driving it into her attacker’s side. He was wearing armour, she was certain he would be fine. And if he was not, well, the pain in her back made it hard to care. The armour all but shattered from his body, and the force of the blow sent him into the air and then down, hard, onto the ground. Still, she was pretty confident she had heard no bones break. “Naughty Boy cowner time.” The magic again came in glittering lights that lifted the man up, and the coalesced out into the mitten restraints and the pacifier gag, but instead of a stroller, he was secured to a stool, pants around his ankles, his nose pressed up against a wall. “I mean really,” Tac said as she jumped down onto Kristine’s shoulder. “This is too much.” “It’th your thtupid magic.” “Just call the police and let’s go.” Kirstine scowled, but she looked among the smugglers until she found a cell phone she could use. She called 911, reported that she had heard shots, then dropped the phone without hanging up. She picked up one of the fallen pistols and fired several shots into the air. “Nice touch,” Tac told her. “Thut up.” A moment later both cat and magical girl were gone, teleported away. Tac told Kristine not to transform back when they arrived at the apartment. “Get your magic bag, have some of the healing food and drink.” She did so. She also got Mr Bear, who stripped her dress off her so he could mend it, as well as dressing her wound. He also changed a very soiled diaper, though she fought against him on that. Somehow in all that the fur on his paws remained clean. During all that Tac took her leave. She glowered at the big stuffed animal as she ate two jars of the baby food while watching as it stitched up the rip in the dress, cleaning the blood from the material at the same time. She had no idea how it did that. She was drinking from a sippy cup (she could not remove the top from it) when Mr Bear finished his work and quickly got her back into the dress. Then he pulled her down onto his big, soft lap, took the bottle from the bag, and proceeded to try to feed it to her. Keeping her lips closed and turning her head she did her best to avoid the nipple. She turned her head and said, “Tank you Mithter Bear, I…” And then he got the nipple securely placed in her mouth. When it became clear he was not going to give up until she drank she sucked on the nipple until the bottle was empty. It refilled itself, but Mr Bear put the bottle back in the bag. “Tank you Mithter Bear, I wuv you,” she got out quickly. Mr Bear returned to toy size and dropped into the bag. Kristine gabbed a couple of training panties from the bag and then dismissed it. “God damn I hate that thing.” She transformed back, thankfully losing the diaper, replaced by the training panties she had been wearing when she had transformed earlier. She dropped into the couch and reached for the TV remote, turning it on and flipping through channels until something caught her attention and she left it. Not really paying attention to what she was watching Kristine grabbed her laptop and turned it on. After powering up and logging on, she saw she had email. Oscar had sent her a message. She had almost forgotten the message she had earlier sent him. He wanted to see her. The next day, at a cafe she knew. She replied, said she would be there. Nervous fingers made spelling mistakes, it took twice as long to type it as it should have. She read it over and then sent it. That was done. Noise from the TV made her look up. A cartoon was on. She had been watching a cartoon? Grabbing the remote, she flipped channels until she found the news. She was presented with a shaky cell phone video of a girl in a short dress and a diaper. Her. Hell. Kristine turned the TV off and went to get ready for bed. The next morning Kristine woke to an orgasm that left her lying in her sweat-soaked sheets, breathing heavily. She could not recall the last time an erotic dream had left her so flustered. Probably when she had been a teen. For a time she lay there, breathing deeply as the warm glow faded. It was perhaps a minute or two after she had woken that she realised she was wearing a diaper. She knew she had gone to bed in a training panty. “Fuck,” she said softly, wondering if the training panty had magically become a diaper, or if Mr Bear had visited her in the night. Neither possibility pleased her. The diaper, she discovered, as she got out of bed, was quite wet. The sheets, except for the sweat, were very dry. She had to admit, given the options, she preferred the damp diaper to wet sheets. Though of course having neither problem would be most preferable of all. She walked to the bathroom, tearing the wet diaper off as she went. There where, Kristine noted as the diaper landed in the trash, several training panties already in the trash. Was she going to have the throw out garbage bags full of diapers and training panties every week? And shouldn’t the magic deal with them in a more environmentally friendly manner? Why was she evening thinking such things? Sighing she went into her bathroom to shower. Later, in a fresh pair of training panties and an oversized t-shirt, Kristine ate her breakfast at the small kitchen counter, while browsing the web. She was looking for information about herself. There were some pictures of her from when she had first transformed, various stories about her, all of them made up of suppositions and outright lies. There was a story about the smugglers she had caught the other night, but no mention of the way she had left them. Had the magic faded, or were the police just keeping quiet about how they had found them? At least no one was suggesting a connection between her Magical Girl persona and the smugglers. Not yet at least. For the morning she treated the day like any lazy Sunday. She read a book while drinking a cup of coffee, or she tried. The coffee tasted terrible. She made two more cups before she decided that it was not the coffee but her. Coffee tasted terrible to her now. That sucked. Instead of reading she went through her kitchen and tried different things. Some teas were all right, as was milk, and the almost expired carton of orange juice she could drink. However, she found that alcohol tasted unpleasant and several fancy kinds of cheese that she had liked no longer suited her. When she catalogued what she liked she found the menu options to be somewhat, well, juvenile. Really, it was bad enough she had to wear training panties and diapers, did she really now need to subsist on a diet of peanut butter sandwiches and milk? Getting a handle on her new palate took up much of the morning, and by the time she cleaned up, it was getting close to her meeting time. The day before while shopping, she had picked up a few more pieces of clothing than just the denim overalls and blouse. A pair of grey slacks and a light blue blouse gave her, well, not a professional look, she thought looking in a mirror, but at least a well turned out appearance. She had found a pair of shiny black loafers with tassels over the toe. They were cheap, she doubted that they would last longer than a month of constant wear, but they looked decent enough. So dressed she grabbed her work bag, shoved a few more pairs of training panties into it, then headed out. Just outside of her apartment building she was met by Tac who sat, lounging on a bench. “What are you doing?” Kristine asked her. “Enjoying the sun,” the woman said. “It’s a cat thing. You going to that work thing.” “I’m going to talk to a man I worked for.” “I’ll tag along,” she said, standing, becoming a cat, then leaping onto Kristine’s shoulder. “Why are you coming?” “Boredom mostly. This might be funny.” “I’m going to throw you into traffic,” Kristine muttered, but she let the cat ride on her shoulder. As she rode on the subway, she wondered what Oscar would say to her. She wondered if she could keep her job. She did recall the part of the contract that said no magical people could work at the law firm, but she hoped that they would make an exception. Being a lawyer was what she had wanted for years. Looking down at her small feet she wondered what sort of career she could have. Could she go to court, looking like a girl? She shifted on the seat, squirming a little, trying to judge how wet the padding under her bottom might be. It did feel a bit wet, but she thought likely just damp rather than soaked. What a thing to have gotten used to, she thought, and in only less than a day. How soon before she was just wearing the diapers that Mr Bear seemed to want her in? She shook her head, the action attracting Tac’s attention. “What is it?” the cat asked. “Nothing, just a thought I want out of my head.” “Weird.” “I don’t want to hear that from you.” Tac remained silent, and Kristine sat there for the rest of the ride, mind going around in unproductive circles. She got off one stop sooner than she usually did when going to work. The coffee shop was about two blocks away from the subway station. The area, mostly business office towers and the like, was quiet on a Sunday afternoon. The ‘Smart Bean’ was an upscale little shop, often crowded during the week but very nearly empty now. She saw Oscar Cotton sitting at one of the tables near the back of the shop. He had looked up from his phone when she had come in, looked at her, then went back to his phone. He did not recognise me, she thought. She walked across the floor, went to stand up beside the table that he sat at. “Mr Cotton,” she said. He looked up from the phone. He looked at her. “Can I help you?” He looked confused. She produced her bridging ID and handed it to him. He looked at it, the confusion in his expression growing. Finally, he looked at her. “Miss St. James?” “Yes sir.” “Magic,” he said, sounding disgusted as he handed her back the ID. “May I have a seat?” she asked. He nodded at the seat opposite to him. She sat, her feet not quite touching the ground. Tac jumped down from her shoulder and into her lap. “I got you a coffee,” he told her, indicating the cup in front of her. “Thank you,” she said, taking it. She loved Smart Bean coffee, the rich dark roast, of course, black. It was bitter and awful to her changed taste buds, but she kept her expression neutral as she took a drink. “What happened?” he asked her. She told him, most of it, leaving out the part about diapers and baby themed stuff, but covering the basics. Kristine finished with, “It was not what I wanted. I never would have made the decision, but I was going to die.” “I understand,” he told her. “I want to continue working with Cotton and Black. I’m a victim. I know that there is a clause in the contract about magic, but it’s not fair.” She blushed realising how childish she sounded. He did not answer her immediately, instead picking up his coffee cup and drinking from it. He put it down when he finished the contents and asked, “Did you study magical law in law school?” The question confused her a little, and she thought back to law school, not so much about the classes she took, but the ones she did not. “I don’t remember anything about magical law,” she told him. “Just some details about the nature of the treaties between the worlds.” “Do you know how the law works in the Magical Realm?” She shook her head. “If you are accused of a crime you are brought before one of the most powerful magic users in the area. They cast a truth spell and you are asked if you did what you were accused of. Once you answer you either go free or are punished.” Kristine did not say anything for a few seconds, and then, “But that is incriminating yourself.” “No such protection in the Magical Realm.” “But what if there are witnesses?” “No witnesses are ever called.” “What if the accused has magic powerful enough to trick the spell?” “Might makes right.” “But…” Oscar held up a hand, stopping Kristine’s words. “I am not here to debate the nature of the Magical Realm's law or lack thereof. That is how it works because that is how it has to work. Magic complicates things. Witnesses might have seen an illusion, or be under a spell of compulsion. Evidence may be summoned out of nothing. In a world like that, they use the simplest way to deal with it. That is why you never saw any courses concerning magical law. That is why you can no longer work at Cotton and Black. “In fact, I am going to have to call the opposing lawyers and tell them that a person articling with us has become a Magical Girl. Likely they will ask for an extension while they make sure nothing in our case has been magically tampered with, they might even ask that the judge simply rule for them seeing as the case is now tainted.” “But I just became Magical Girl yesterday.” “And you have a witness to that?” “Sure she does,” Tac said, speaking up. Oscar looked surprised for a moment at the talking animal, but only a moment. “That will help, I might need to call you to tell your story to the judge.” “Anything to help,” Kristine answered without thinking. Oscar nodded. “I appreciate it. Did you bring your work ID, keys, laptop?” “What? No. Why?” “I’ll need the keys and ID, and I’ll need to have one of our IT people take a look at your personal laptop.” Well, that was a sign that her time with Cotton and Black were over. “I’ll have to go home and get all that. It will take about an hour, maybe a little longer. I guess I can take a taxi.” “No need. I will drive you to your home. We can take care of all of that as soon as possible.” “As soon as possible,” Kristine echoed back. He nodded. She stood, dumping Tac from her lap. “I got to go to the bathroom,” she said and headed to the back of the coffee shop. She did not have to go to the bathroom, or maybe she did, she no longer knew, but she was not about to sit in someone’s car without checking to make sure her training panties were not about to leak. In the stall, the somewhat complicated task of getting her pants off made her decide it was possible skirts would be a large part of her future wardrobe. The training panties were wet, though not sodden. She would not to take a chance and changed into a dry pair. Fortunately, there was no one else in the bathroom to see her toss the wet training panties into the garbage before she washed her hands. On leaving the bathroom, she found Oscar at standing at the front door, talking to a familiar looking blonde woman. She was tall, Kristine thought, probably equal in height to Oscar, and in her heels, she stood taller. Long blonde hair, fair skin, pretty. Oscar noticed Kristine as she approached. “Kristine, this is Emily Black, of the IT department.” That explained why she had looked familiar. “Black?” she asked. “My Uncle is Oscar’s partner, but don’t worry, I did not get the job due to nepotism.” Oscar laughed at what was probably a private joke, then said, “Emily will have to check your laptop, you understand.” Not pleased, Kristine nodded. “Of course.” “Let’s go,” he said and led them from the cafe. His car was only a few blocks away, a dark blue Lexus, four doors. Emily took the front seat, leaving the back for Kristine. Seeing the leather interior, she was glad she had changed her training panties. In the front seat, Oscar and Emily talked business, the IT side of things. Kristine’s computer knowledge was not as in-depth as that of Emily’s, but she thought she might be able to join in. However, she got the feeling that she was not expected to take part in the conversation. Neither made any effort to include her. She sat quietly in the back, petting Tac who slept in her lap. About twenty minutes later Oscar pulled into her apartment’s visitor parking lot. His car looked a little out of place, and he parked some distance from the other vehicles. As Kristine got out, she looked at the building, suddenly feeling that she did not want either of these people to see how she lived. She knew it was ridiculous. She was a recent graduate, no one would expect her to be living in any sort of luxury. She squared her shoulders and said, “This way.” Kristine led them into the building and up into her apartment. Could they smell the used diapers she had been throwing out? Would they see them? “Where’s your laptop?” Emily asked, breaking Kristine out of her thoughts. “Here,” she walked across the room and got the laptop, bringing it back to Emily. As Emily set up Kristine went and got her work ID and various security keys which she presented to Oscar. “Can I get you to log in?” Emily asked her. She had the laptop on, and it had booted up. Oscar stood near the door, waiting patiently, as Kristine logged into the laptop. “This won’t take long,” Emily said as she went to work. “Just going to remove the VPN software and proprietary data, check for any files from the firm.” Kristine nodded. As promised it did not take long for Emily to finish up with the laptop. She plugged a USB key into the computer, fingers typing rapidly. Kristine looked towards Oscar, but he had his smartphone out, looking at that. He was not interested in talking. And what would they say to each other anyway? About a minute later Emily pulled the USB key out of the laptop. “It’s clean.” Oscar looked away from the phone. “Good. Thank you for working on a Sunday.” Emily smiled at Kristine and then looked to Oscar and said, “This was a special case, so no problem.” “Miss St. James, again, I am sorry. You might have become a good lawyer.” “Thank you,” Kristine said. It was the only thing she could say. They left, talking again about the firm’s IT requirements. She was no longer on their minds. She closed her apartment door and went back to the couch, flopping down and looking at her laptop. Shifting forward, feeling her training panties squelch under her, she worked on the computer, checking to see what had been removed, making sure that her pictures and a few other things she would not want to lose were still there. “Damn,” she said, slumping down. “What’s the problem there?” Tac asked, jumping onto the back of the couch. Kristine looked up at the cat. “There are so many answers to that.” “Got one that I might care about?” She mumbled something unflattering under her breath and then said, “I am out of a job.” “I am aware. Don’t care.” “Well, you should, cause I am going to be out on the street soon.” “I don’t see how you being out on the street is a problem for me, but I will point out that you are stupid?” “Stupid? That I need money is stupid? That I still got student loans is stupid? That I can’t even afford to buy new clothes is stupid?” “Those things seem more on the sad side than stupid,” Tac told her. “What is stupid is that you have forgotten you got a magic bag that has almost everything you need.” “What? It has money in it?” She could not believe that. “Why not summon it and find out,” Tac paused, “stupid.” She sat up straight, making certain to knock Tac off the back of the couch as she did not. “Not cool,” Tac said as she fell. Holding her hands out in front of her she pictured the bag and it dropped out into her arms. She placed it beside her and opened it up. She found the familiar diapers and training panties, food and drink and baby care products and Mr Bear, but no money. “Well?” she asked Tac, who had jumped up beside her. She grabbed a couple of pair of training panties, knowing she was going to need them. “Open up the zippered, front pocket.” She did. Inside she found an envelope. Written on it was ‘for clothes’. Opening it, she found a stack of twenty and fifty dollar bills, even some hundreds. Counting it revealed there to be about four thousand dollars. “Where did this come from?” she demanded of Tac. “Where do you think? Banks.” “Is it…” “Stolen? Don’t be stupid. There is trade between the Magic and the Mundane Realms. The Magic Realm enjoys a huge trade surplus, but we don’t have use for your money, so we leave it here. When an agent, like you, needs money, you get money.” She looked at all the bills. “I don’t have to work anymore.” “You don’t.” “If I want a bigger apartment? A house.” “You’d get it.” “A sports car?” “Can you reach the pedals.” “Shut up.” “You won’t be getting any mansions unless you need one, and probably not any of those fancy Italian sports cars,” Tac paused, “do they still have them?” After Kristine nodded Tac continued, “or diamond studded golden back scratchers, but you’ll have what you need for a comfortable, easy life. Magic Girls have it good.” She did not have to work. “I wanted to be a lawyer.” “I wanted to be a rich princess who never had to travel to the Mundane Realm. I did not get that,” Tac told her. “Life is unfair. Suck it up. We’re going hunting tonight.” “Hunting?” “I am going to teach you to track minor magical threats. An important skill for a Magical Girl.” “Yay for me,” Kristine said sarcastically. Several hours of hunting down, and in some cases killing, small magical beings (goblins and such) left Kristine tired and wet. Returning to her apartment, she dismissed her magical outfit and then went to take a shower. Clean, in a dry pair of training panties, she took a seat on her couch and turned on her laptop. She just wanted to stream some movies and relax, maybe check out some real estate as well. As the laptop booted up, she reached for her phone. There was a message. From Oscar. She played it. His recorded voice came from the phone. ‘Miss St. James, I want you to come to the courthouse tomorrow. Call me.’ She stared at the phone for a few seconds. It did not make any sense to her. She had been certain she would never hear from him again. After several seconds she hit the icon to call him back. After a few rings, it was answered. “Miss St. James,” Oscar said. “You wanted to speak with me Mr Cotton?” He was silent for a few seconds, then said, “I would appreciate it if you showed up at court tomorrow, at 9am. I have a meeting with the judge, and I want you to be there.” Her eyes widened as, for a moment, she imagined that he would be making a case for her to remain part of the case, but only for a moment. That was stupid. “Why?” she asked, sounding a little more bitter than she wanted. “I want to get the judge’s ruling as to whether your recent change compromises the case. The judge will have questions, it would be best if you were there.” “I understand. I’ll help.” She paused and then said, “I have nothing to wear for court.” Oscar did not tell her not to worry. He would never tell her that. The right clothing was an essential part of one’s presentation in court. After a short silence, he said, “I’ll bring something, Don’t worry.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, I will be there.” “Thank you Miss St. James, I appreciate it.” “I am glad to help,” she answered. “I will see you tomorrow.” He hung up. She looked at her phone for a few seconds and then tapped the hangup icon. Gently chewing on her bottom lip, she wondered what tomorrow would be like. Would she be a professional in the room, or would be she like some weird piece of evidence. It worried at her all night, and she crawled into bed early, setting her alarm before she pulled the covers over her head. BREAK POINT#3 Kristine woke not to the beeping of her alarm but to another orgasm from another terribly erotic dream. She lay on her bed, breathing deeply, squirming, slim chest rising and falling with each gasping breath. She finally got control of herself, wiping at her damp forehead. “What the hell,” she said softly. Her alarm started beeping. As she sat up, she felt something heavy and wet slide about in the back of the diaper that she was wearing. Eyes wide she reached behind her and put her hand on the back of the plastic. The mass within the diaper shifted and spread out as she pushed against the padding. “Oh no,” she said. She shifted forward, taking the weight off her bottom. The mess slithered forward as she got up on her hands and knees. How was she going to clean up that mess? She’d have to get into her shower, take the heavily soiled diaper off. And then what? Could she flush it? And she would have to clean herself up, the mess that she felt stuck to her bottom. Just the thought of doing so made her feel ill. She should just be able to magic this away. Then a thought occurred to her. “Mr Bear, help.” She blushed even as she said it out loud, not entirely certain about what she was doing. A moment later the giant teddy bear was at her side. She did not have to give any instructions, the bear grabbed her up from the bed, cleared some space, and put her on the floor. She blushed as the bear pulled her legs up and untaped her diaper, then began to clean her up. The bear was fast, efficient, in extremely short order she was clean, the area around her was clean, the dirty diaper and the wipes having disappeared, even Mr Bear was clean. Of course, the bear then proceeded to put a new diaper on her, acting so fast she could hardly resist. He creamed her bottom, rubbing it across her butt and between her thighs, sending a shock of unexpected pleasure through her that made her gasp. Then he rained sweet smelling powder across her before pulling a thick diaper up between her legs and tapping it snug around her. He lifted her up from the floor, grabbing her under her arms, then placed her on her feet and patted her head. She blushed at the gentle touch, then lisped out her ‘thank you’ sending him away. Standing there, in the middle of her apartment, in just a diaper and her t-shirt, she sighed. “What the hell,” she said, then sat down on her couch. “Tac?” she called out softly. The cat did not appear. Well, she supposed that was for the best. She was not really sure how to ask the cat why she was having crazy erotic wet dreams, waking up in diapers that were damp for reasons other than piss. Was it part of the magic, or, as she was afraid of, was she just some kind of pervert? It was probably the magic. She hoped. Thinking of magic and the cat she summoned up her magic bag. She opened the small zippered pocket she had found the money in the night before. Within were two envelopes, neither feeling as if it were stuffed with cash. In one was a letter, informing her that all her student loans would be paid off by the end of the business day. The other letter showed that all her credit cards, as well as her line of credit, had all been paid off. She was completely out of debt. “Well, that’s something,” she said, tossing the letters on her coffee table and then dismissing the diaper bag. Standing she tore the expertly taped diaper from around her waist and tossed it, heading into her bathroom. Tac showed up when she left her apartment. She was dressed in the same outfit she had worn the day before, the slacks and the blouse. “Where you going?” the cat asked. “To court. Oscar wants my help,” she said, feeling happy for saying that. “Your help?” Tac asked incredulously. “Yes, my help,” she said, sounding far more defensive than she had intended. “Some kind of monster thing?” “No, legal matters,” she said, tilting her chin up as she walked towards the elevator. “This I got to see.” Kristine paused, wondering if she should tell the cat it could not come. Of course, she did not expect that Tac would do something just because she had ordered, and she supposed having an obvious magical animal might help things along in some manner or another. “Do as you want,” she said, and resumed her walk. Seeing as she was debt free and flush with cash (she had the money for clothing in her messenger bag) she decided to take a taxi. “How much more do you need to do to finish with me?” she asked Tac as she did up her seatbelt. “A few more nights and you’ll have all the basics down. You’re not as stupid as what I was expecting.” “Is that one of those magical animals?” the taxi driver asked, looking back at her in the rearview mirror. “Is that a problem?” Kristine asked. “I can toss her out of the cab, no problem if we are moving fast.” “Rude,” Tac said. “No, no, just never saw one before.” He pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic. “So,” the driver asked, “you one of those Magical Girls?” “Yeah, I’m one of those Magical Girls.” “You look a little young for it.” She laughed loudly. “I say something funny?” “Hilarious, but don’t worry about it.” “We’re not going to get attacked by monsters, are we?” “I don’t think so.” She looked at Tac. “A monster attack against a mundane is a pretty unlikely thing,” the cat sat smugly. “Is it now?” Kristine turned her gaze on Tac. “I don’t think my statement can in anyway be used to infer any wrongdoing on my part.” “And if I got one of those truth spells Oscar mentioned?” “Well, you don’t have one.” “You don’t seem to be all that friendly,” the driver said. “Tell me about it,” Kristine answered. “Aren’t you magical girls and your talking pets supposed to be all friendly like?” “Pets?” Tac sounded offended. “I am beginning to suspect that is just PR.” “Pets?” “So how did you become a magical girl, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Desperate measures,” Kristine said. “Either that or I die.” “So you didn’t want to be one.” “Of course not. Why would I?” “I bet it beats driving a cab.” Kristine was about to argue that, seeing as she was pretty sure driving a cab did not require diapers, but she decided not to. And she thought about the letters from the morning, the money in her bag. Probably a lot of people would think the benefits outweighed the costs. “It still was not what I thought I wanted to be doing with my life?” “Oh, what did you want to do with your life?” “I was going to be a lawyer.” The driver was silent for a few seconds. “You ask me the world needs more Magical Girls than lawyers.” “Did I ask you?” she snapped at him. “Don’t be so catty,” Tac told her. “I don’t want to hear that from you,” she told the cat. “Listen, I’m just saying that society is too litigious as it stands and fewer lawyers might not be a bad thing. Maybe people would talk things out and not tie up the courts with nuisance lawsuits and real legal change could happen.” “What, are you a professor of sociology or something?” “Philosophy.” “A philosopher cab driver, this is getting good,” Tac said. “You’re a professor of philosophy?” “Masters degree. Working on my doctorate.” Kristine frowned. “Are you driving for money or is this your thesis?” “Welcome to my lab, Magical Girl.” “Oh, crap.” “Do you have a card? Cause I think I want to ride in your cab more often," Tac said. “So, do you think you can do more to make the world just if you were a lawyer than you could be being a magical girl.” “I did not get into law because of justice,” Kristine said, exasperated, and then, “No, wait, I mean, justice is important, but the law is complex and beautiful.” “Really?” “Well, it’s complex.” “So, if you were interested in justice, would you find it easier to make a difference as a lawyer or a Magical Girl.” Kristine squirmed in her seat, thought the padding of her training panties felt both warm and wet but was not sure. And she could not check. “I suppose if I was only interested in justice that a Magical Girl has more options.” “But Magical Girls are not agents of justice,” Tac said as she jumped up onto the back of the front, passenger seat. “At least not necessarily.” “But do they have the freedom to become so?” “Probably,” Tac said. “So Magical Girl, do you feel that if you cannot practice law that you are required to uphold justice? Does your power require you to act.” “Hell no,” Kristine said. “Power does not equate to responsibility.” “Interesting.” “Listen, can you just drive.” “Sure,” he said, and then asked Tac, “so you offer power to these girls?” “That is right.” Tac sounded pleased with herself. “And you don’t feel that there is a problem with that? It’s like you are creating child soldiers.” “No like about it. But young girls have the purity and innocence to wield magic. Their pure hearts and pure dreams protect them from the corrupting taint of magic.” “Bullshit!” Kristine said from the back. “I was twenty-five, and you still picked me.” “Twenty-five?” the driver asked, looking at her in the mirror again. Kristine wished she had kept her mouth shut. “You were immature for your age,” Tac said by way of explanation. She smacked the cat from the back of the seat hard enough that it hit the interior windshield. “Hey, watch it,” the driver said. “The cat’s fine.” “My feelings can be hurt you know,” Tac said, jumping down from the dashboard. “Good to know. I’ll try to be more emotionally cruel.”
 The driver looked at her in the mirror, then down at Tac. He asked no more questions. Kristine felt a little bad about that but did not want to start up the conversation again. When she was dropped off at the courthouse, she tipped the driver well, by way of apology, then walked up the steps towards the large entranceway. She was near the doors when she was met by Oscar’s assistant. Yvonne Clark was an older woman, brown hair striped with grey, dressed conservatively. She had some garment bags hung over her shoulder. “Kristine?” she asked hesitantly. “Yes. Mr Cotton wanted me here.” Of course, Yvonne had to know that. What a stupid and obvious thing to say. “Yes. Come on. I have some clothing for you.” He held up the garment bags a little higher. At least Kristine was not the only one stating the obvious. Yvonne led her to a bathroom where she could change. Kristine went in on her own, carrying the three bags. She left them on a small bench inside the room by the door and went right for a stall. Her training panty was not too wet, but she cleaned herself up and put on a new one, not wanting to take a chance of staining any of the clothing she was going to borrow. There were three dresses within the bags, as well as a few packaged sundries. She wondered if they belonged to Oscar’s daughters or granddaughters. Perhaps young nieces? She did not really know much about his family other than he did have children. One of the dresses looked like a little girl’s Sunday dress. A bit too much frou-frou and pink for her tastes. Another was a surprisingly mature looking dress in a pale blue, clingy. Kristine was certain the bulk of her training panties would be visible. She went with the third, a dark blue dress, with a pleated skirt that dropped below her knees and short, wide sleeves that fell just above her elbows. The skirt was loose enough that there was no chance of her training panties showing through and it looked conservative. There was a pair of white tights, still in the package, along with the dress. She tore the bag open and put them on. The cotton tights were a little too small, and the dress a bit tight across her slim chest, but, looking at herself, she saw that none of that showed. Good enough. She gathered up everything and left the bathroom. Yvonne and Tac were waiting nearby. Yvonne looked Kristine up and down and nodded. “Good. Come on.” Tac jumped up onto her shoulder. Yvonne led Kristine up the main stairs, where the too small tights and slightly too tight dress made themselves a little more obvious. She felt a little corseted as she could not breathe as deeply as she wished, and the tights were sliding down a little, and she had to resist the urge to try to pull them up. Down a hall, deeper into the building, to a small waiting room where Oscar, and to her surprise and no small amount of embarrassment, Daniel were waiting. Daniel was staring at her, shock obvious on his face. She noted two others, a woman and man, well dressed. The man she recognised as Wendal Pine, the lead lawyer for the other side. “Miss St. James, thank you for coming,” Oscar said to her. “You’re welcome Mr Black.” Daniel schooled his expression to something more professional and nodded a hello to her. “Kristine,” he said. She returned the informal greeting with a “Daniel. You’re assisting with the case? Good job.” He looked a little uncomfortable, for they both knew that she was supposed to be here. “Thank you,” he said, almost sounding himself. Wendal and his companion were openly staring at her. She ignored them, deciding she would let someone else handle introductions if they were required. “Is there anything else Mr Cotton?” Yvonne asked. “Not at the moment Yvonne, thank you.” Yvonne nodded and then left them. There were several seconds of an uncomfortable silence in the room before Oscar said, “Let’s go.” He walked to one of the doors, knocked and then pushed it open. Kristine started towards the doors, but the others, with their longer strides (not hampered by trying to keep cotton tights from sliding down over a pair of training panties), put everyone else in the room, and she had to wait to enter last. There was a small office beyond. The five of them filled it. A woman behind a desk was talking to Oscar. “Go in,” she said, “Judge Morrison is waiting for you.” They all filed through the secretaries office into the much more significant office of the judge. Bernard Morrison was a tall man, big, shaved head, wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He was standing, waiting for them. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing at a table in front of his desk. Everyone sat. Kristine found the chair too big for her, wished she could kneel on it, so she was not so low. Bernard went and sat at his desk. “Let’s make this fast.” He looked at Kristine. “Kristine St. James.” “Yes sir,” she said, hating how her voice seemed to squeak. “Papers?” She reached into her bag, pulled out her ID. She was about to get off the chair when Tac jumped to the floor and became the tuxedo-clad, cat-eared beauty that was her other form. There were a few expressions of surprise. With a smile Tac took the various documents from Kristine and walked to the judge’s desk, handing them to him. He looked through them, turning the bridging ID back and forth, staring at Kristine. She felt her cheeks grow warm under his scrutiny. He gave the documents back to Tac. “Thank you.” “Of course,” Tac said, and walked back, putting the documents on the table, in front of Kristine, just far enough from her that Kristine had to reach to get them. The cat-eared woman took a seat beside Kristine, smiling at the other people. “Tell me how you came to this position,” Judge Morrison said to Kristine. So Kristine told him of her meeting with Tac Friday evening and of her accepting the contract the next day. She kept it simple, to the point. Tac confirmed her story when asked. “When was the last time you worked on this case,” he asked her. “Friday evening, about 5pm.” “Anything since then?” “No sir.” “Have you had any contact with anyone involved in the case since then?” “Just Mr Cotton. I let him know what happened, and met with him yesterday too, well, officially end my employment with the firm.” “Did you talk about the case?” She shook her head. “No sir.” Wendal shifted forward in his chair. “Any witnesses to this?” “I was there,” Tac said. At the same time, Oscar said, “Emily Black from our IT department was there. She can be a witness as to our conversation. Shall I ask her to come by? I have a signed statement from her.” He brought an envelope from his jacket. “Give it here.” Oscar did so, and Bernard looked it over. “Good enough,” he finally said. “I would like a ruling now as to if Miss St. James unfortunate situation in any way reflects on this case,” Oscar said. The judge looked at Wendal and his companion. “Are you requesting a stay in procedures?” Wendal did not answer immediately, but finally said, “Not at this time.” “Your honour, if not at this time than if I may be permitted to say, than not at all,” Oscar said. “More information could come up later in the case,” Wendal replied, a little heated. “We may need to request a stay or delay later.” “If things start to go bad for you,” Oscar said. Kristine had suspected but now knew why Oscar had requested her presence there. “Enough,” Bernard said, loudly. No one else said anything. “Mr Pine, if you do not see a reason to delay proceedings at this time, based on what we know, I will not allow you to request a later delay. Unless of course, you put further evidence in front of me that puts into question Miss St. James' statement that she has had nothing to do with the case since her unfortunate transformation.” “Very well,” Wendal said. He did not sound happy about it. “All right, then this meeting is done. I will see you in court in,” he looked at his watch, “twenty minutes.” It was a dismissal that everyone recognised. They left the office. Out in the waiting room, everyone started walking away. Daniel paused, looked at her, back at the others who were all watching, and then said, “I’m sorry this happened to you.” He walked off. Not about to taint the case by being seen associating with her. She was alone. She found Yvonne, down the hall, waiting for her. She returned to the bathroom on the first floor, changing back into her own clothing. She held up the tights, making sure there were no telltale stains on the white cotton, then shoved them into the garment bag with the dress. “Thank you,” she said as she handed the bag back to Yvonne outside of the bathroom. “You’re welcome,” she said with a smile before turning and walking away. “Now what?” Tac asked from where she lazily leaned on a wall. “I guess I’ll go shopping.” “Good, I like shopping.” Kristine supposed some retail therapy was a way to not think of things. Or maybe not think that there was nothing left to really think about. She was a Magical Girl, and it seemed that was all she would be. All she could be. So letting her mind focus on buying a new wardrobe was welcome. She looked for quality, triple stitching, good materials, nothing that looked like it had been made in a sweatshop. Since training panties and, not that she wanted to admit it, diapers, were going to be a constant she looked for skirts and dresses mostly, to make changing easier. She bought some slacks and loose jeans, but they made up only a small part of her new and growing wardrobe. Quality and conservative were her watchwords. She soon had several bags full of clothing. Tac had to help her carry them. Some training bras were added to her purchases. As she had the day before Kristine got the idea that most of the salespeople who sold them to her were ultimately humouring her. What she did not need (assuming she was not going to chance a mess) were panties, but she bought them anyway. She did not want anyone thinking about why she would not be buying them. It was mid-afternoon when she decided to go home. She and Tac stuffed a taxi’s trunk full of clothing of all sorts, and the back seat was pretty full too. They did not get a driver who wanted to speak, so Kristine sat in the back seat, feeling tired and wet, hoping her training panties did not leak. Fortunately, she made it back to her apartment leaving the seat behind her dry. She and Tac hauled everything up to her apartment and Kristine went to change. She had leaked a little on her way up, small damp spots on the seat of her slacks. After changing into a dry pair of training panties, she tossed the pants into the laundry hamper and then, in only her socks, blouse and training panty, began to unpack her purchases. She was not sure at first what to do with all her old clothing, but after a few minutes of looking through her wardrobe, she decided it had to go. There was no point in keeping it around, other than to torture herself. She found some boxes and used the bags all her new things had come in and packed away all her old things. She would donate them to some charity, or better yet a woman’s shelter. Maybe her suits would do someone some good. As she finished boxing the last of the old things up, she felt odd, as if something were off. She found herself walking about the apartment, looking onto corners, opening things up. As small as the apartment was her actions did not go unnoticed. “What are you doing?” Tac asked her. Kristine looked at the cat. “Something feels off, but I don’t know what.” “Probably just because you are being watched.” “What?” Tac, in cat form again, stretched out. “Yeah. Not long after we got back.” “Where?” she asked, starting towards the windows. “Stop, don’t be stupid,” the cat told her. “Pardon?” she looked back at Tac. “You don’t want them to know you spotted them. That’s like tradecraft 101.” “Tradecraft?” She shook her head. “What should I do?” “Stop being stupid?” “Aren’t you supposed to help me?” “If I can make you stop being stupid that would help a lot.” “You make me want to kick you.” “Transform. Put your pacifier in your pie hole and teleport down there.” Kristine wanted to say something snide, but the cat was right. “Thank you,” she said softly. “What was that?” “I said thank you,” she snapped, and then before Tac might say anything else she transformed. Teleporting about, being invisible, it was all pretty amazing. It almost made being a Magical Girl worthwhile. Though not the diapers. She stood beside the car, not seen by the occupants, looking into the windows. It did not take her long to figure out who they were. There was a file, open in the back seat, with some stationary with the Pine law firm letterhead on it. So they were looking for proof that she was still somehow involved in the case. Good luck on finding that, she thought as she teleported up onto the roof of a nearby high-rise. She took the pacifier from her mouth. “Annoying.” “I will teach you a spell to chase them away,” Tac said. “Chase them away?” “Sure. Magic Girls need to make the mundanes scatter, stay away from dangerous places. Nice simple spell. You envision something unpleasant and focus it… Though with your weird ways of casting spells who know how it will work. Still, it is simple enough.” “No.” “No what?” “I’m not going to cast it. They are just doing their jobs, and it is not like they are going to see anything that will be a problem for Cotton and Black. I’ll just ignore them.” “But this is a teachable moment.” “I don’t care.” She teleported back to her apartment and ended her magical girl transformation. Tac had jumped from her shoulder. “Boring.” “I can learn that spell later,” she told the cat as she picked up the packed boxes and stacked them next to the door. Tac shook her cat head and then went and curled up on the couch. Kristine went and cleaned everything up, considering what she might do if she got a house. That all she needed to do was to want one and she would be given one seemed so unlikely. It was like she had won a lottery. And in a way she supposed she had. Just not a lottery that she would have bought a ticket for. She had everything sorted out and cleaned up when she heard someone knocking on her door. Not expecting any visitors she went to the door, stood up on her toes, and looked out the peephole. On her doorstep stood the handsome Olivia. “What the hell?” she asked aloud even as she unlocked the door. “Olivia, you can’t be here, there…” That was all she got before Oliva had her wrapped in her arms, her lips pressed against Kristine’s, her tongue slipping into Kristine’s mouth. It was like the night they had last seen each other. That was one of her thoughts at that moment. She also recalled that their hands had been in each other panties, and she worried that Olivia’s hands would slide down from her shoulders and discover what she wore instead of panties. That was another of her thoughts. She also was a little surprised at the tongue in her mouth. It seemed strange and well, the only word that came to her mind, strangely was, gross. It seemed a little gross. Then suddenly before Kristine could think of anything Oliva pushed her away, she herself stumbling a few steps back to fall against the door jamb. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Oliva said, crying. Kristine stared at Olivia, her mouth hanging open. She closed her mouth, then asked, “Sorry? What? Why?” “I heard, I thought, it didn’t matter. I was in love with you. I was sure it didn’t matter what you looked like, but it felt so wrong. I’m sorry.” “Olivia?” She took a step forward, then stopped. “You love me?” She was surprised. She liked Olivia, a lot, but in love? “Oh,” Kristine said. Of course, she loved Olivia as well. Why had she not seen it? “I…” “I don’t love you anymore,” Olivia cried and wiped at her eyes, smearing eyeliner. “What?” “You’re a child, when I look at you, I feel nothing. When I kissed you I just felt like a monster.” She straightened. “I never should have come here. I have to leave.” “Olivia…” Kristine took a step forward. “No, Kristine, I can’t be near you. It’s tearing me up.” Kristine stopped. “Goodbye.” She turned and fled the apartment. “Olivia,” Kristine said softly and took a step forward. She would just be torturing Olivia if she followed. “Well that was some nice drama,” Tac said as she jumped down from the couch. Kristine turned on the cat. “Shut up.” “That’s hardly nice. And here I am going to help you out.” “Help me out?” Tac saying anything like that seemed so foreign. She did not think the cat was capable of helping her. “I am going to take care of those guys in the car, so they don’t remember seeing your friend coming in here, cause that is probably important, then I am going to talk to your friend and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” “Oh,” Kristine said, suddenly feeling bad for her earlier thought. “And then I am going to get her on the rebound and fuck her until she can’t even remember your name.” “What?” The cat looked up at her. “She’s got a nice figure, and I am one horny kitty.” “Listen you damn cat I’ll pick you up by the scruff o the neck and shake the sh…” Tac was suddenly the buxom, tall woman in a tuxedo. She moved fast, grabbing Kristine and yanking the smaller girl across her lap as she dropped onto the couch. Skirt flipped up, training panties yanked down, she proceeded to wail on Kristine’s bottom, in the middle of the apartment, with the door to the hallway wide opened. It was humiliating. And it hurt a lot. “You Listen. I put up with a lot of crap from you cause you are cute, but you don’t get to tell me who I fuck.” Kristine was squirming, trying to break free, biting down on screams and sobs, worried someone could come and look into her apartment. Then suddenly she was on the floor, dumped from Tac’s lap, and Tac was heading out the door. “Don’t wait up,” Tac called back with a cruel smile as she left. Kristine watched her go, wiped her eyes, then stumbled to her feet, and with the training panties around her ankles, stumbled to the door and closed it. She bent down, pulled the training panties up. As they slid over her well-spanked bottom, she hissed at how much it had hurt. Had that bitch Tac used claws when she spanked her? Well, she would show Tac, she would… What would she do?
 Chase after Tac, tell her to leave Olivia alone? Scream ‘don’t have sex with my ex-girlfriend’? It was ridiculous. Olivia was not stupid, no easy lay. If Tac could seduce her, it would be because it was what Olivia wanted, at least at that moment. She sat down on the couch. Jumped up with a cry of pain. What sort of crazy magical spanking had Tac given her? She stood there, still sniffing, thinking about her friend and her life and her very adulthood which had all been snatched away for some stupid reason. She thought about how helpless she felt about it all. She thought about how there was nothing she could do about any of it. “Mr Bear,” she cried. And then the bear was there, and she threw herself into its warm, soft hug. She cried into the fur, and Mr Bear gently patted her bottom, easing the pain there. She felt completely pathetic, and at the same time completely safe. BREAK POINT#4 And now the new part that has not beeN posted yet Later, sprawled on her couch, in a too big t-shirt, the padding of a training panty a subtle but unforgettable presence, stared at the TV. She was not really watching what was on it, it was the background for her thoughts. Olivia, and what she represented. Things had been happening so quickly that she had not really considered what her life was going to be like. Saturday morning she had woken up, and everything was normal. It was now Monday evening, and she had lost her job, probably her friends, a girlfriend she had not realised was her girlfriend, her potty skills and her maturity. Things had been happening too fast. She had not really thought about it. Now that she was thinking about it Kristine did not like it. She sniffed, suddenly worried she might start crying. She rubbed at her eyes, took a deep breath. “I can turn this around,” she said out loud. It made her better to hear that, but what followed was the silent question, ‘how?’ Pulling her knees up to her chest she considered what she would need to do to fix things. She did not think she could break the magic that had changed her. She had, under duress as it had been, accepted a contract. There was something sacrosanct to that. Magical rules that had been established that would not be broken. The sticking point was that she was a child. It did not matter that she had a bridging ID, the fact that anyone who looked at her was going to see a little girl. And if she were not careful they would see a little girl in diapers. Jobs, relationships, even leisure activities would all be denied to her. Suddenly she was depressed again. She recalled, only a few days before, flipping through the channels until she could present to Tac a magical girl: Magical Parfait of the Baker’s Dozen she recalled. She could be, she realised, a joke. She could go on TV, or maybe get jobs performing. A cute little girl who was not really a little girl. Her knowledge of entertainment law was sketchy, but she seemed to remember that there was a limit on how much children could work. An apparent little girl, who was really an adult, would probably be useful. She supposed had she ever wanted to go into entertainment than this might be the best thing that ever happened to her. But while she had wanted to stand in front of a court as a lawyer, standing in front of an audience as a performer had never occurred to her. A professional joke, just like Magical Parfait, and other magical girls like her. No, she realised, she would be even a bigger joke because of the theme of her magic, and the diapers. Exhausted by her depressing thoughts, she turned off the TV, unfolded her couch, pulled her blankets over her head. She just wanted to sleep. Morning came, as it had since her transformation, with a wet dream and a messy diaper. She lay there, breathing heavily, waiting for the sensation to pass, and kind of wishing it would not. Then she called for Mr Bear so he could clear her up. It was just so much easier. After Mr Bear had her in a fresh diaper, she dismissed him. Sitting up on her fold out bed she wondered if all the Nursery Knights had to deal with that. And then she smacked her hand into her forehead. She could find them, talk to them, get them to tell her what the deal was, how they might have dealt with it. No dealing with Tac, who she really did not want to speak to, and certainly did not want to confide in. Staying in her diaper, she went to her laptop, turned it on, waited for it to boot up. It took so long. She summoned her magic bag, wrote a note that she wanted a new computer and a tablet. The message went into the side pocket, the bag dismissed. Once her computer was running, she opened a browser window and began to search. Terms like ‘Nursery Knights’, ‘magical baby girls’, ‘diaper magical girls’ got her some results, but she only found a handful of useful articles. There was a magical sighting page, with an entry on the Nursery Knights. It had not been updated in more than fifteen years. They had been active in Sacramento about twenty years prior. Kristine’s family had lived in Sacramento, but they had moved north to Seattle shortly before the Nursery Knights had been active. Had Tac shown up when she had been supposed to, would Kristine's family have moved? The Magical Realm certainly had access to money. Her father had taken them to Seattle because he had a new job there. She could envision Tac using the Magic Realm's money to keep her and her family in Sacramento. Or perhaps her teleporting power was to allow for the commute. Putting such thoughts aside she read what information was available. There was mention of a few battles, one in the downtown core. No record of any civilian casualties. Kristine found a few stories of people found asleep, unable to wake for a few months. She supposed that made sense for something that had been called the Nightmare King. Then the Nursery Knights all but disappeared. She spent about an hour reading through various sites but found nothing online that really helped her. Shutting her computer off she leaned back. Her padding felt damp on her bottom, and the diaper crinkled. Shaking her head, Kristine got up from her bed and went to the bathroom to clean up. It was still early when Kristine left her apartment. She had a small bag, loaded with a few extra training pants and an envelope full of computer money. Her outfit was all her new clothing, a black, designer A-line dress, with a skirt that hid her padding. She had paired it with a faded jean jacket. Out in front of her building, she decided not to call a cab but went for a walk instead. Kristine used to like going for walks. With school and the working at the law firm, she had had less time for that. Now she had nothing but time. She sighed loudly as she stood on a street corner, waiting for a break in the traffic. “Something wrong sweetie?” The person asking a question was a school crossing guard. An older woman with a kind smile. Kristine had not even noticed her, but it had been a long time since she had needed crossing guard’s help. “I’m just tried,” Kristine said, not even thinking to explain her problems. “You should get lots of sleep sweetie,” she told Kristine, then, a break in the traffic presenting itself, put her whistle to her lips, raised her sign, and stepped out into the crosswalk. Kristine mumbled a thank you as she crossed. Several other children, who Christine had not really noticed either, were louder in their thanks. There sure were a lot of kids around, she thought. Of course, because they were going to school. Kids were walking, almost always with an adult, though. Walking past a school, she noticed how many were being dropped off by parents. It looked like children had grown a lot less independent than she was a child. Kids a few years from being teenagers seemed to be treated more like they were children half their age, or so Kristine thought. It made Kristine rethink her earlier concerns about looking like a child. It was worse than she had thought if this was the new normal for children. “Goddamn depressing,” she said softly. No one tried to stop her, no truant officers or police demanding to know what she was doing, but she saw curious gazes turned her way. She really did not want deal with anyone asking her questions. The morning grew late, children and commuters disappeared from the streets. She watched the cars going by, supposed that people were out shopping, like her. Kristine had been walking for a while, but she was not tired, no ache in her leg muscles. Recalling what Tac had said she could only assume that she was enjoying another of the benefits of being a magical girl. Even untransformed it appeared she enjoyed a stronger body. Almost two hours after she had set off she reached the shopping mall she had wanted to visit. It had not been open for long, and it was not too crowded. In an electronic store, Kristine went to the computer isle and looked around. She had educated herself about computers, enough to know what she wanted. Before price had always been a concern, but now she had money waiting to be spent. It took her about twenty minutes to decide between the three computers she had been considering, and then she stood around for several minutes, waiting for someone to come up and ask to help her. She was a little surprised that the salespeople had left her alone so long. Then she remembered. She was a kid. Of course, they were ignoring her. They probably thought she was screwing around while her parents were shopping somewhere else. “Excuse me, I’d like to buy this,” she called to a middle-aged man who passed close by. He paused, looked around, and then, Kristine was sure he sighed, he walked over to her. “What is it you want young lady?” “This,” she put her hand on the laptop she had chosen. He looked at it, then her. “Is your mother around?” “I’ll pay for it,” she told him. He looked at her for a few seconds, she guessed he was trying to decide if she was serious if he was about to get a commission out of the sale. “Okay, we’ll ring it up.” He reached under the shelf, grabbing one of the boxes. She paused on their way to the cash registers and pointed at a tablet. “And one of those.” Again he looked at her, thoughtfully, perhaps taking in her clothing. Then he grabbed another box. When they reached the cash register, he said, “All right, so where is your mother, or father?” She reached into her bag and took out the envelope with the cash in it. She had already figured out the cost, so she put the hundred dollar bills and fifty dollar bills in front of him. “I am paying for it myself. I am really spoiled.” Kristine was not sure what the salesman had been expecting, but probably not a large wad of cash. She wondered why she had not used her credit card. It probably would have been easier. Had she wanted to flash her money around? Seemed more than a little childish to her. “I’m joking,” she told him and pulled her bridging ID out. “It’s really okay. I’m older than I look.” She smiled as she held out the card. He took it from her, looked at it, flipped it over, read what was there. “You’re from the Magical Realm?” “Well, not really.” She did not want to say she was a Magical Girl. “It’s complicated.” The ID fell from his hands to the counter. “You’re a Magical Girl,” he said, nervously, looking around. “Look, I don’t…” “Fuck, is some monster going to show up? You’re going to get us all killed.” He was not shouting, but he was loud, and a few people were looking towards him. She had heard that some people were afraid of all things magical. She had never seen it before. “Listen, just take my money and give me my receipt and my stuff and I will be out of here. I’ll never come back.” “Fuck you,” he said quite loudly. “Dan, is there a problem?” A middle-aged man in a shirt and tie had approached. “She’s a fucking Magical Girl.” “Dan, go, take your break.” “But…” “Go to the break room.” Dan stared at the man, shook his head, and then almost ran away. The manager, Kristine assumed, quietly rang her up, looked at her ID once, then took her money. He did not ask her to come again. No one asked if she had found everything she wanted. People were staring at her. “Fuck,” Kristine muttered as she left. She should have shopped online. Who knew she would have to deal with such crap. She had planned to shop a little more but had no stomach for it. Leaving the mall, she hailed a taxi. As she got in with her purchases, she said to the driver, “Take me to the downtown branch of the library.” The driver pulled away from the mall. He did not want to talk, which was okay with Kristine. Kristine had excellent research skills. However, she was in no way a professional. Librarians were professionals, which was why she had come to the library. An older woman, probably around fifty, looked down at Kristine. “The Nursery Knights?” Kristine nodded. “Yes. I want to find out what I can about them.” “I see,” she simply said, and then, “come along.” She led Kristine to her desk where she sat down and started her search. She did not invite Kristine to take a seat, there was not even a chair there for visitors. However, she was not left standing for long. Perhaps after a minute or two, the librarian scribbled down some notes and then stood up, once more asking Kristine to follow. It was a pleasure to watch a professional at work, Kristine often thought. They went to an old-fashioned card catalogue, though they only stayed there a few moments. Then there was a short stop at an old microfiche machine. Kristine was not even sure she would know how to use that device. That done the woman began to pull books and old periodicals from various shelves. In less than an hour, Kristine was looking at a stack of material sitting on a table. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re welcome. Most of that material cannot be taken from the library. Leave it on the table when you are finished, we’ll get it shelved.” She turned and walked away. Kristine began to read. There was a book on the various teams of Magical Girls who had operated on the West Coast for the past thirty years. There was a full chapter on the Nursery Knights, though much of it was the author’s supposition about why a team of little girls had been chosen, and that magic must be related to innocence. It was still interesting. She put that aside, picked up a book of photography, found several pictures of the Nursery Knights within. Faces were blurry, but she would make out the little girls wearing the same style of outfits she wore when transformed. The diapers were embarrassingly obvious. A scholarly book about magical girls in general mentioned the Nursery Knights a few times, and how as a group composed of small children they represented an example of how irresponsible the Magical Realm was. “Preaching to the choir sister,” Kristine said softly as she put the book aside. She read more books, magazine articles, even an interview done with Nursery Knight Becca. Not that Becca, probably Rebecca, had a lot to say. Kristine guessed that Becca was perhaps about eight at the time, but the person doing to story assumed an age of about half that. Christine had been making notes of when the Nursery Knights had first appeared and when they had disappeared. The interview with Becca was one of the last times anyone saw one of the Nursery Knights. She had been at her research for a couple of hours. Straightening up, amazed at the fact her back did not hurt, she was aware of the wet, squishy feeling around her bottom from a soaked training panty. Hoping that she was not leaking she nearly ran to the bathroom. The inside of her dress’s skirt was just a little damp, and it did not show, fortunately. Her training panty was heavy with her pee, and she tossed it into the garbage once she had changed. Back at the table she looked through the few remaining books and magazines but was not able to add to her knowledge of the Nursery Knights. They had been much like most magical girl teams, but for their youth. But unlike those other groups, when they had finished their fight they had disappeared completely. Where had they gone? She left the books and magazines on the table as she had been told. On the way out she paused near a donation box, a sign over it reading, ‘Help Support Our Library’. She had a few hundred dollars left after her purchase of the laptop and tablet. Most of it went into the donation box, but for enough left for her cab ride home. Tac came into Kristine's apartment in her cat form. It was early evening. Kristine had set up her laptop and told herself she was still doing research, but she was really just playing around with all the new features the better computer and OS had given her. The cat jumped up onto the coffee table. “Let’s go, we have some more training to do.” Kristine almost told Tac to go to hell, but instead, she stood up and lisped out her transformation chant. She stood in her uniform, suddenly feeling more embarrassed by it. Having seen pictures of the Nursery Knights wearing that outfit, the juvenile costume felt even more so. The short skirt, the puffy sleeves, the lace trim, the ribbon on which her pacifier hung, the rattle shaped mace, and of course the thick diaper. Tac jumped up onto her shoulder. “There’s a big park west of here, do you know it?” “Yeth, I know it.” “Teleport us there for the next lesson.” Kristine did so, appearing on the roof of a medium-sized building that looked down on several acres of green space. People were enjoying the end of the day, a soccer game and a baseball game was going on at either side of the park, and people moving around between. “Okay,” Tac said. “When a Magical Girl needs to fight she should do her best to keep people from getting hurt?” “What about pwopety?” “Property damage is not a problem. We got the money to pay for it.” Kristine supposed that made sense based on what she had learned that day. Tac continued. “You need to be able to make people leave an area, so they don’t get hurt.” “How do I do that?” “It was like I was telling you. If you want to chase someone away from a place you envision something unpleasant, though not frightening, and focus on an area, then push that feeling into that area.” “Thomething unpleathant?” “A feeling of being too cool, or too hot, or an annoying sound.” “Okay.” “Clear everyone from about a hundred feet in every direction of the fountain.” Kristine nodded, stepped to the edge of the building. She looked down at the space Tac had defined, she let the words come to her as they had before. “Dirty Diaper Diaper Pail,” she said, and then, “Fuck cat.” “Hey, I don’t make this crap up.” She wanted to be angry, but when she saw what was happening below, she could only be amazed. People were leaving the area she had envisioned. They were not running, they did not even seem to be aware of it, but they evacuated the space in an orderly manner liked it had been well planned and practised. It could not have taken more than twenty seconds before the space around the fountain was deserted. People had redistributed themselves around the park, apparently unaware of their actions. What was more was that people were walking the long way around, again seeming not to notice that anything was weird in they did. They were, on further observation, actively not looking towards the space around the fountain. “Weird.” “Jump down there,” Tac told her. Kristine judged the distance and then took a few steps back. She then ran up to the edge and leapt. She sailed across the distance between, landing close to the fountain, hitting the brickwork, her shoes leaving scratches on the surface. “Oopthieth,” she said looking back at the damage. Tac made a rude sound. “That’s not an oops level of damage, trust me.” She jumped from Kristine’s shoulder to the fountain side. “No one will care.” Kristine looked around and then walked towards the edge of the space she had envisioned. No one was looking at her, no one had seen her land, heard her land. She stood, about two feet away from a man who was talking on his cell phone. She could hear what he was saying, but he did not seem to notice her. “Weird.” She walked back towards the fountain. “But what happenth if the monthter weaveth the spathe?” “Why do you think Magical Girls are in teams? A few girls working together can contain the monsters.” “I thee.” “But let’s assume you need to keep a monster contained when it is really trying to get away. Or you want to avoid accidents and not just the type you have in your diapers.” “Hey!” Ignoring her outburst, Tac continued, “You don’t want someone tripping and falling into the area, or maybe a piece of a destroyed building goes flying out. If that is likely, you need to firm up the barrier, so it does not let anything pass through.” Kristine nodded. “So, now I want you to envision the barrier becoming something that will keep people out. Visualize it and say the words.” “Okay,” Kristine told Tac, then looked around. Prison cell. Sheets of thick plastic. Steel walls. Chainlink fences. Wood slats, gaily painted, safely rounded with no sharp edges. “Cwib time thafe thpathe,” she said aloud, and all around her appeared crib like bars. “Fuck,” she said again. “How cute,” Tac said in syrupy tones. She kicked the cat into the fountain. Splashing and sputtering the cat thrashed about in the water for a few seconds before turning into a woman. Tac, the woman, splashed out of the knee-deep water. She was soaked, so her ordinarily tight clothing was obscenely clinging to her. Kristine tried to tell herself she was not all jealous and was careful not to look down at her own lack of curves. Stepping out of the fountain Tac stood over her, glaring down at her. “Do you want another spanking already little girl?” Recalling the spanking of only the night before Kristine took a step back. Her lip trembled as she shook her head. “Don’t mix cats with water you overgrown toddler.” “I’m not…” she said, but looking up at Tac’s angry face killed the rest of the words in her mouth. Tac snapped her fingers. Water exploded away from her. A mist of it hit Kristine in the face, leaving her lightly drenched. Perfectly dry Tac stood there, imperious for a moment, then the woman was gone, and the cat was back. The cat leapt back up onto the fountain edge and stared at Kristine, almost as if she was daring Kristine to try something. Kristine did not take up that dare. Some water dripped from her hair. With the impossibly smug look that only a cat was capable of Tac said, “Now you have your safe crib space. That will stop most things from getting in and out, but a determined or a powerful monster might break it.” Kristine nodded, still feeling scared and not trusting her voice. “Or perhaps the monster has minions. Either way, you may need some extra help.” “What about the other Magical Girlth?” Kristine asked. “You might be fighting on your own, or they might be just as busy. Fortunately, you got Mr Bear to give you a hand.” “Mithter Bear?” “Consider if you had an army of your Bear? Each one ready to knock a monster away from the barrier, or form a wall of fur to keep the barrier safe.” Kristine nodded, seeing the point. “So, picture an army of your Mr Bears, and then, call them.” Kristine closed her eyes and did just that. She imagined an army of giant teddy bears. She opened her eyes. “Todayth the day the teddy bearth haf their pi’nic,” she called out. Well, that was not quite as bad as the other things she had to say. Around her formed shadows, and those shadows began to clump together. “Looks good so far,” Tac said. In seconds there stood about fifty or sixty shadowy forms all around her. Then, with a sound like a pop, those forms became giant teddy bears. They looked a lot like Mr Bear, though they lacked his more distinct features. They had an unfinished look to them. The close to sixty bear heads all turned towards her. It was a little creepy. “What now?” she asked Tac. “Now, think about what you want them to do.” Kristine started at them for several seconds. Then she giggled as every bear suddenly pushed its hip forward and grabbed its crotch with a big paw. “Real mature,” Tac said. Kristine ignored the cat as the bears started doing the thriller dance. “A magical army and thy best she can think to do with it is play,” Tac said. Kristine pretended the cat was not there, just watching her dancing bears. She could see that there was a lot that might be done with the bears. They could handle crowd control, probably lock enemies down she so could hit them, even just stand a perimeter guard as Tac had earlier suggested. Or she could make her very own teddy bear flash mob. The bears had been dancing for a few minutes (she felt sorry for everyone on the other side of the barrier who could not see the show) when Kristine suddenly felt dizzy. “Oh my,” she said, stumbling back a few steps before sitting slowly on the edge of the fountain. The bears all stopped moving. As she sat there, taking deep breaths, Kristine felt her diaper grow warm under her as she wet it without control. “Wha’ happen?” she asked. “It takes a lot of magical energy to summon and maintain your bears,” Tac told her in a tone that suggested she thought that Kristine should have known that. “Teddy bearth ta bed,” Kristine said, and the bears disappeared. As soon as they were gone, she felt better. “You need to work on your magical stamina,” Tac told her. “Magical thtamina?” “Your ability to channel and hold the magical power. The more magic you use, the better you’ll get. Normally, of course, you are working with a team, and each girl can handle a different thing. Still, a Magical Girl never knows when she’ll have to fight on her own.” “I would like to meet the other Magical Girls,” Kristine said, seeing an opportunity. “What?” “The other Nursery Knights. I would like to talk to them.” “I’ll see what I can do,” Tac told her. Glad that Tac had not asked why Kristine got unsteadily to her feet. Her soaked diaper sagged under the weight of her pee. “One more thing and then we’ll call it a night.” “One more?” Kristine asked. She wanted to teleport home and get a fresh diaper, or training panty. As long as it was dry. “If things are terrible, then you want to take the area you are fighting in out of the world.” “Out of the worl’?” “Think about it as moving the area to another dimension.” “Another dimenthion?” “Are you a parrot?” Kristine was about to say, ‘Parrot,’ but shut her mouth on the word. “How?” “Visualize it. Think about this space sinking away.” Kristine looked around, thought about the ground under her becoming water, the entire area sinking away, going somewhere else. “Into the dark toy box and clothe the lid,” she said, sweeping her hand out. The barrier went black. Suddenly all around her was darkness. It was as if the temperature suddenly dropped, and she shivered, her diaper growing cold and clammy around her hips. There was an indirect light, and there were long shadows all around her. Turning in place, she started open mouth. “I’m really somewhere elthe.” “You are,” Tac told her. “Did I leave a hole in the worl’?” “No. Its as if this space no longer exists, the space it took up no longer there.” Kristine thought about that and shivered again. “Okay, take us back out.” Kristine nodded. Without being told she visualised the area returning to the world and said, “Open the toy box.” It became warm and brighter, and around her, the park returned. “That’s enough for today,” Tac said as she jumped up onto Kristine’s shoulder. “Back up to the roof.” Kristine tried to teleport, but her concentration failed, and she felt as if the world stuttered around her. Her hand tightened on the mace, and she almost hurled it at the ground. She felt tears in her eyes. It was all so hard, and she was so tired. She realised her emotions were suddenly out of control with exhaustion and she had been about to throw a tantrum because of it. I am not a baby, she told herself and focused. Kristine successfully teleported on her second attempt. Standing on the roof she followed Tac’s direction, dropping the barrier and then the exclusion field. From above she watched as people began to move back into the space she had earlier driven them from. Again they did not seem to notice that they were returning to the area, just as they had not been aware they had been leaving it. Within a few minutes it was as if it had never happened. Magic was amazing, Kristine thought. She teleported back to her apartment. Tac left her for some other business. Kristine made sure not to ask if that other business was Olivia. She sat down on her couch, her diaper squishing beneath her. She just wanted to rest a moment, then she would change back, but she was asleep in seconds. BREAK POINT#5 Someone, probably Mr Bear, had unfolded her couch, undressed her, changed her, and put her in the bed, sheets tucked in around her. While the magical bear could do all that to her and not wake her up was a little disconcerting, there was something about it that her still sleepy mind found comforting. Knowing that there was always going to be something that would take care of her. Closing her eyes she tried to go back to sleep, but after only a few seconds she opened her eyes and turned her head towards the clock in the room. She had been asleep for a few hours, and it was not too late in the evening. Kristine did not think she would get back to sleep. Sitting up, the sheets slipping off her, she found herself dressed in one of the pyjama tops she had bought. Mr Bear had not bother putting the bottoms on her. She got up from the bed, felt too lazy to hunt up the pyjama pants or switch from the thick diaper to a pair of training pants. She got her new laptop and tablet, setting them up on the coffee table as she sat down on the sofa bed. At first, she was not sure what to do, then she decided to search for a house. She suddenly wanted a bedroom, with a real bed. That search kept her busy until she felt tired enough to go back to sleep. Morning. Waking up from an orgasmic wet dream. Messy diaper. Mr Bear cleaning her up. She doubted she would ever get used to it. At the very least the sweaty, panting, twitchy, wet and wonderful feeling of the wet dream was something that would never get dull. Well, she hoped. Tac was not around. She sat on her folded up couch, wondering what she was going to do. Kristine thought that there was nothing more she could learn in researching the Nursery Knights. She would have to wait until Tac got back to her. Shopping was out. Leaning back on the couch, diaper crinkling under her, TV tuned to a local news station, what to do with the day occupied her thoughts. Sitting around the apartment sounded dull. Tac had said she needed to work on her magical stamina. That seemed like a good idea. Lisping out her transformation phrase left Nursery Knight Krisy standing in the apartment. She grabbed her a bag for her tablet, hung it over her shoulder, then tucked her tablet into it. Looking at herself in the mirror she giggled at how incongruous the black bag looked with the baby style dress. Then she disappeared, teleporting away. Kristine looked at houses. She practised putting up exclusion fields, making everyone leave the house. Then she would teleport in and look around. After getting a feel for the place, she would teleport out and then drop the field, watching as people went back in. It was kind of fun. By the end of the day she was feeling tired. She had been using her magic pretty heavily. Still, she felt kind of good about it, as if she was making progress. Back in her apartment she transformed back to her regular self, changed out of the wet diaper and into a set of dry training pants. She looked over the list of houses, considered what she had seen, then wrote a note explaining that she wanted to know more about one of the houses. She summoned her magic bag, put the letter in it, then dismissed the bag. Afterwards, Kristine made her dinner and was about to eat it when Tac came into the room. “Eat up, we have more training to do tonight. We’ll be working on scrying and remote viewing.” “All right,” Kristine said, then asked, “have you found anything out about the other Nursery Knights?” Tac shook her cat head. “Not yet.” Kristine nodded, not yet wanting to push, not wanting Tac asking more questions. So she ate quickly and then transformed. She and Tac headed out into the night for more practice. The next day Kristine found a set of papers in her magic bag. They were what turned out to be papers from someone who had performed a magical inspection on the house. Without the property owner’s knowledge apparently. As a lawyer, well, as someone who wanted to be one, that seemed a little wrong. As someone who was considering moving into that house she found she did not mind much. Along with the inspection results were a list of spells that could be used to repair the problems that the inspector had found. There was a report on the neighbourhood and the neighbours. Finally, there were the details of the offer that might be made. She read it over. She was not going to have to spend the money, but it still seemed like a big deal. The house was pleasant, not a big home, but it was on a big lot a lot of privacy. It had three bedrooms, the master unusually large with an east facing window. She picked up a pen and scrawled on the bottom of the page that she wanted the house. Then she returned it to her magic bag and dismissed it. Now what, she asked herself. What was she going to do? She wished she could talk to her friends, but all her friends were working for law firms. She could not contact any of them. Kristine really wanted to contact Olivia, but she knew she could not. She was also afraid of what she might learn if she did. After several minutes of sitting there she knew she had to do something. Transforming she teleported from her apartment. Standing on a windowsill, pacifier in her mouth, so she was invisible, Kristine looked in at the classroom. Perhaps she could go back to school. Relive her childhood. People always dreamed of that. It did not take her long to decide it would be more a nightmare than a dream. Classes looked boring. Worse for her as she knew everything they were teaching, or at least vaguely recalled it. And she was pretty sure that being a student in training pants or diapers would not be in anyway fun. After about an hour of watching she teleported away. There were rumours that the police had magical girls on the payroll. Being a police officer would let her still be part of the legal system. She stood in a corner, invisible, investigating the city’s central police station, trying to see what it might be to work there. Being invisible offered her a lot of opportunities see how the officers behaved. It seemed the female officers were subject to a fair amount of low-level harassment. It was coached as good-natured ribbing, but the female staff took a lot more of it. She saw no evidence that there was any magical staff there. Kristine suspected if there were any they were made to keep a low key. Harassment and being treated like an embarrassment. Kristine teleported away. The fire department seemed like a better work environment. As long as you did your work it looked like they gave everyone the same amount of respect. Hard work, but it looked rewarding. And the fire engines looked cool. It would be something to look into. Later. She teleported away. There was one more area where Kristine thought that she might get a job, The entertainment industry. She had thought about that earlier and been dismissive of it, but there were reasons to consider it. Kristine had learned that there was filming going on in the city, she teleported over to watch. As she stood invisible among the crew, she considered what it would be like to work in such an environment. Magical Girls had a certain cachet, and she was pretty cute. If she was not going to grow older, and she hoped it was not the case, but if it was, she was the type of child actress that the industry probably wanted. One that would not get older and age out of the part. Honestly, after watching for a few hours, she thought it looked a little dull. However, she could not deny that everyone seemed to be working hard. When Kristine teleported away, she decided she was willing to consider entertainment. “Have you found out about the other Nursery Knights?” Kristine asked Tac. “I am working on it,” Tac said. She sounded cross, and her hair stood up along her spine. “Well, work harder.” “Why is it so important to you?” The day had given Kristine an answer other than, ‘I want to know if they wake up with orgasms and wet diapers’. What she said was, “I want to know what to do with my life. They might have some ideas.” “Fine,” Tac said. “I’ll look deeper, but tonight we have to practice.” “I want to work on repair spells,” Kristine said, and then named some of the spells she had learned of that morning. “Repairs?” “I can? Can’t I?” “Well, you can, but why?” “I want to, and how to shield people and place from heat and fire.” “The fire shields are useful.” “And the repairs.” “Fine,” Tac told her. “Let’s go.” Kristine had fun that night. She and Tac teleported around the city, fixing things. A street covered in potholes and cracks left like new. A large number of street lights shining brightly again. Graffiti wiped away. She especially liked cleaning the graffiti, a wave of her hand, a lisping command, and walls were left unmarked. She also practised fire shields, though that was a little harder because there were no significant fires to work with. When Kristine returned home, she felt tired but pleased. “Okay, tomorrow night you can practice on your own. Fill in some more potholes.” “What are you going to do?” “I am going to find out about the other Nursery Knights before you throw a tantrum.” “I’m not going to throw a tantrum.” “Which is exactly what I would expect a toddler about to have a meltdown to say.” “Just shut up.” “Make sure you practice,” Tac said, and then was gone. “Stupid cat,” Kristine said. A large number of countries and cities had asked that the Magical Realm set up its central embassy in their territory. The diplomatic branch of the Magical Realm had decided to ignore all those requests and dump their embassy in the middle of the Antarctic. Tac usually thought that was pretty funny, but when she had to make her way to the embassy, she had to admit it was a little inconvenient. Even for a cat who walked through walls and played the Schrodinger game to be where she should not, it still took some time to get there. Which was why she had told Kristine to practice on her own. Tac figured she’s be gone at least a full twenty-four hours. The Antarctic was cold, even for a cat with as fabulous fur as she had. One of the first things the Magic Realm had done on setting up was to chill the continent back down to its proper temperature. No global warming allowed there anymore. It was showing off to the mundanes in part, but the staff were the type to like the cold. As Tac glided into the embassy on two legs, wrapped in a thick fur coat, she was greeted by a pair of ice warriors who looked her up and down and then stood aside so she could pass. “Thanks, boys,” she said, walking further into the ice palace. She passed through public areas and moved into the offices where the real work happened. Down, several levels below the ice was a room that looked like a mission control sort of place. Staff watched floating crystal balls, staring at the events taking place. Scrying in a world where almost no one knew how to put up a ward was one of the easiest ways to gather intelligence. Tac looked about and then walked up to a woman with white skin and blue hair, wearing a black suit that did all the right things for her. “Hey sweet stuff, looking for details on the Nursery Knights, Magical Girl team. Got a location?” The woman smiled. “Nursery Knights huh?” She spun the globe in front of her. Tac could have sworn she saw snowflakes in it. “Hmmm, I think you need to talk to Controller White Out.” She looked up towards one of the highest levels of the control centre. Tac followed her gaze, saw that the woman was looking at another white skinned, blue-haired beauty. “Well, happy to talk to the Controller. Thanks, sweetheart.” She left the first woman behind and climbed the stairs to where Controller White Out worked. “Hey Controller, I need some help finding some Magical Girls. Got time for a fellow working girl.” The woman called White Out looked at Tac for several seconds. “You don’t look the type who actually works that much.” “Guilty as charged, it’s the cat in me.” White Out smiled. “Well, one can’t be blamed for their nature I always say. Magical Girls?” “A team called the Nursery Knights.” White Out pursed her lips. “That sounds familiar.” She turned to her globe, spinning it about. “Hmm, I actually have a recent spike.” “That would probably be Kristine. I recently activated her.” White Out looked away from the globe towards Tac. “The Nursery Knights were active about twenty years ago.” “Yeah, I was a little late.” “A little?” “The cat in me.” White Out actually smiled. “All right, let’s ignore the recent activity.” She went back to the globe, turning it, running her hands over it. “Okay, now I remember. We started getting activity on them about twenty years ago, pretty consistent for about two years.” “Sounds right. It took the Nursery Knights about two years to take down the Nightmare King as I understand it.” “After that, there was consistent, low-level activity, about what you would expect from Magical Girls who are no longer active.” “Okay. So do you have any recent activity from them?” “No,” White Out said. “No?” “They went dark almost sixteen years ago.” “Went dark? Like they never transformed again?” “No. Even an untransformed Magical Girl occasionally gives off energy.” “So they’re dead?” White Out shook her head. “No, we would have picked up their deaths.” “How does a Magical Girl go dark then?” “It’s difficult. The girls have to actively mask themselves in the world. It takes a lot of work.” “Does it happen often?” “No.” “Has an entire team ever gone dark?” “No.” Tac said nothing for several seconds. “Well, that is weird.” “Yes. It is why I remembered them.” “Well, I am going to have to speak to those in the know.” “Who is that?” “That,” Tac said and smiled, “is first the coordinator of that team, and then their liaisons.” “Ah.” White Out nodded. “But, that being said, are you like all cold, or do you think I can warm you up. I got a talented cat’s tongue, but I don’t want it freezing to anything.” After her usual morning wake-up pleasure and mess Kristine had planned on spending the day fixing stuff to practice her magic, and then she had planned on talking to someone in the fire department. There was a note from Tac in the front pocket of her magic bag, telling her to keep practising. That made the idea of popping around and repairing things seem even better. However, she ended up on the roof of a building across from the courthouse, pacifier in her mouth, using the scrying spells that she had learned to watch the court proceedings. Oscar was a pleasure to watch, and she could see that Daniel was working hard to keep up. He seemed to be enjoying himself. She could not help but feel a stab of envy. Sitting on the edge of the roof, sucking on her pacifier, watching the trial, hours passed before a recess was called. During that time her diaper had grown wet. Something she only noticed when she stood and felt it sag. “Thith ith getting ridiculouth,” she mumbled aloud. She reached under her skirt, checking the diaper. It did not seem too wet yet. How had the actual Nursery Knights dealt with their wet diapers? Had their Mr Bears been continually changing them? After another check of her diaper, she decided she did not need to change it yet. She teleported away from the court, to the roof of the building in which Cotton and Black had their offices. On the roof, she called up her scrying spell and scanned the office for Olivia. It felt a little creepy, spying on her ex, but she wanted to know how Olivia was doing. Kristine found Olivia at her desk, working. Through the scrying spell she watched Olivia as she worked, trying to discern how she was doing. The face that had grown so familiar looked much like it had in the time Kristine had known her. Was she looking sad, or happy? Were their dark circles under her eyes, as if she had not been sleeping? And if she had not been sleeping was that because she was spending her nights crying over love lost, or because Tac was keeping her awake. Was that far off look because she was thinking of Kristine, or Tac, or was she just wondering what she was going to have for dinner? Two other women came up to Olivia. Kristine recognised them both, though she only knew one of them, Wendy Davis, another articling student. The other woman was a secretary, but Kristine had never known her name. They asked Olivia for some help with research in the library. Olivia agreed and went with them. The same smiles, the same tone of voice, Kirstine would be hard pressed to find anything that suggested that Olivia was in any way distressed. What did it mean? Olivia seemed pretty friendly with the secretary, who name Kristine learned was ‘Bethany’. Was Bethany Kristine’s replacement? No, she told herself, Olivia would not just jump into a new relationship. Kristine was sure of that. However, after that every smile had Kristine wondering. Maybe Tac had done something? Maybe Tac had made Olivia forget about her. Though Tac had said she wanted to catch Olivia on the rebound, so she could not have made Olivia forget. Kristine ran her hands through her hair and let a small cry of exasperation around her pacifier. It was so hard. She just wanted to know what Olivia was thinking. Was there a spell for that? She would have to ask Tac. “No,” she growled. Bad enough she was watching Olivia, but to try to read her mind? That would push her well into the creepy territory. Kristine was somewhat aware that she needed to poop, but she ignored it. She could hold it, and she was still trying to understand what Olivia was feeling. Someone mentioned Kristine, wondering if it was true what they had heard. Kristine focused on Oliva’s face, trying to figure out what her expression meant. Was it a sad smile? A frown? Was she about to say something, tell them it was true? Then Kristine was distracted by the feeling in her diaper. The warm, bulky mess that was filling the seat. The scrying spell collapsed, and Kristine opened her mouth in an ‘O’ of surprise. Her pacifier fell from her mouth, jerked to a stop by the ribbon. She reached behind herself, put her hands on the seat of her diaper. There was a weight in the back, and she pushed at it, feeling the warm, almost hot, poop squish again her. She gasped at the strange feeling, kept pressing it against her, even as the continued to fill her diaper. She was squatting down, pushing more of the poop into her diaper. She could not stop herself as she continued to rub the mess against her bottom. What was she doing? What was she feeling? It occurred to her she was visible, for the pacifier was not in her mouth, rubbing the back of her messy diaper. “No,” she grunted, and snatched up the pacifier, putting it back in her mouth. She stood, the mess shifting. Envisioning her apartment, she teleported home. “Mithter Bear,” she cried out. Mr Bear showed up, with her magic bag over his shoulder. Within in moments, the bear had a changing pad on the floor and Kristine on her back. He had her messy diaper off in about twenty seconds and began to clean her up. Soon her bottom was clean, oiled up and powdered. Mister Bear had slid a new diaper under her bottom, lowered her onto it and taped it up around her. Kristine was so glad to be clean, happy that she was no longer tempted by a messy diaper. She thanked Mr Bear and sent him away. Lying on the changing bad, legs spread, the magic bag full of diapers and training pants beside her, Kristine wondered what she was going to do. Would she end up rubbing a messy diaper all over her bottom every time she messed herself? Was she going to mess herself more often? Kristine sat up and grabbed up the changing pad, folding it up and stuffing it into her magic bag. She checked the zippered pocket, seeing if there were any new messages. Dismissing the bag, she reversed her transformation. Back in her clothing from the morning, she realised she was still in a diaper. She had not taken it off from when Mr Bear had changed her that morning. “I should have put on the training pants,” she told herself. However, she did not change out of the diaper. She unfolded her couch, sat down on the thin mattress, and pulled the blankets over her head. Tac was glad to be back in the Magic Realm. She breathed in deeply of the air rich in magical energy. “Good to be home,” she said to herself. “Be better if my expense account was reactivated.” Around her was the Great City, built around the gate that led to the mundane world. Ever since she had started dealing with the Magical Girl program, the city had been Tac’s home. While she would have preferred to make her way straight to the entertainment district, the lack of an expense account would make such a trip nothing but depressing. Instead, she made her way across the city, forced to rely on public transport. Not that she paid for it of course. A cat can sit on top of a tram car, and no one ever notices. If you circled the city, always counter widdershins, after always twenty minutes, one would find themselves looking out at a lake that was an impossible blue. Above the lake was a vast globe of polished silver, the impossible colour of the water reflected in it. The globe was the Office of Magic in the Mundane and handled, among many other things, the deployment of Magical Girls. Switching back to her human form after jumping down from the tram, ignoring an angry call from the tram driver, she stepped up on one of the entry portals. There was a sense of movement for a moment, then she was standing in the central foyer of the Office of Magic in the Mundane. Tac did not bother talking to the receptionist golems (cute as they were made, they gave her a significant ‘Uncanny Valley’ vibe). Her job had brought her to the office many times in the past, and she knew where she wanted to go. In the admin section of Magical Girl processing Tac chatted up a pretty little filing clerk and got her to pull the information on who had been in charge of the Nursery Knight’s project. After a bit of bite (the clerk had some mouse in her, and as a cat, Tac had to nip) and tickle Tac was on her way to the office of one Umon Derrypiz. Umon was, unfortunately, as far as Tac was concerned, male. Tac was pretty good with getting on the right side of women. She had a knack for it. With Umon she was just going to have to be professional. That was annoying. She entered his office, decent size, midlevel paper-pusher type of place. There was a man behind a desk. She assumed Umon. He looked up from whatever he had been working on. “Yes?” “Umon Derrypiz?” “Yes. Who are you?” “Tac, Magical Girl liaison, second class.” “I see. How can I help you?” It seemed to be going well. With a smile, Tac crossed the room. “I’m looking for information on the Magical Girl team the Nursery Knights. I understand you are the coordinator of that team.” “I am the coordinator of a lot of teams. I don’t know why you would expect me to be able to help.” Tac was taken aback. She wondered what had happened that made him get all prickly. Maybe he did not like cats. “I suppose,” she said, “but this team was all little girls, around four or five, kind of unique.” “All Magical Girl teams are unique. That is the point.” Again Tac felt as if she had missed something. “Well, the Nursery Knights as a whole went dark about fifteen years ago, which is weird, so I was hoping to get some details about them. Maybe something about their mission required them to disappear?” “Why are you wasting my time with this?” he demanded, pounding a closed fist on his desk. Were they speaking two different languages that only sounded the same? Tac wondered if she was insulting him. She would have to explain things. “I recently activated the last of the Nursery Knights you see. And she wants to meet the other Knights, to get an idea of what is going on. Poor girl, all lost and alone.” Tac decided to play the sympathy card. “You activated the sixth Nursery Knight?” he asked her. He seemed surprised, maybe. “I’ll admit that I was little late,” Tac said, assuming that was the cause of his surprise. “The sixth Nursery Knight is active, has become a Magical Girl?” Same shocked expression. Tac could not figure it. “Yes. Nice girl. Named Kristine.” “I have to go,” Umon said as he stood up. “What? But what about the Nursery Knights?” “Look them up in the records,” he told her as he started towards the door, almost knocking Tac over. “When are you going to be back? I really wanted to talk to you about this?” “I don’t know, urgent business,” he called back to her as he left the room. “Well, that is just great,” Tac said as she left the office as well. “Now I got to look up records. Maybe mousey will help me.” With his quick pace, almost a run really, Umon left her behind. Tac ambled, as was her way, back towards the admin section. She was about halfway there when someone suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. Tac found herself facing an angry looking Gorgeous. Though as far as Tac was concerned Gorgeous could only look angry, so it really meant nothing to her. “What are you doing back here?” Gorgeous demanded. “Hi Gorgeous, good to see you. Did not miss me?” Gorgeous actually growled, showing teeth. Tac raised her hands. “Now Gorgeous, calm down. I’m here working, for my Magical Girl.” That gave Gorgeous pause, and she stopped showing teeth. “What do you mean?” “She wants to meet the other Nursery Knights, perfectly sensible right.” Gorgeous narrowed her eyes. “Why are you here then?” “Cause I can’t find them for her, and she's really a bitch about constantly asking.” Gorgeous frowned. “What do you mean you can’t find them?” “Just that I can’t. I talked to the monitoring station people at the embassy. I met a really nice lady who while looking like an ice queen melted rather nicely when I…” “Tac!” “Right, sorry. Anyway White Out told me that the Nursery Knights had all gone dark about fifteen years ago.” “What?” Gorgeous’ eyes widened. “Yeah, it is odd, right? I came here to speak to the team’s coordinator to see if I could find out anything, for all the good that did me. Acted like he had never heard of the Nursery Knights and then when I told him I was trying to find them for Kristine he was all surprised and then ran off. I mean, I admit I was a little late but…” “Shut up Tac.” Tac took a step back. “Well excuse me.” Gorgeous was frowning, there was a line between her eyes from concentration. “The team went dark, all at the same time?” “Yes. That is what I said.” Tac sighed. “And you came here, and the coordinator got defensive when you mentioned the Nursery Knights?” “I suppose that might be one way of looking at it.” “And as soon as you mentioned the sixth Nursery Knight was active he suddenly had to leave?” Tac nodded. “Yes. Do you want to state the obvious some more Gorgeous?” “Are you that self-absorbed or are you just stupid?” “I think we both know that I'm just that self-absorbed. It's kind of my thing.” Gorgeous shook her head. “Cats,” she muttered softly, and then said, “This coordinator was responsible for the disappearance of the Nursery Knights, or if not responsible played a part in it. And now that he has learned the sixth Knight is active he has run off to arrange her disappearance.” Tac’s eyes widened. “Hey, that makes sense. That bastard.” “Go, go back to the Mundane Realm. You have my permission to use one of the speed passes.” “But what about Umon, and the other Liaisons?” “I’ll look into that. You get back and see to the protection of your Magical Girl.” “Fine,” Tac said, “I’m going.” She paused. “Don’t suppose you might activate my expense account again? Just so I can get a little pick me up before I go?” “Get out of here,” Gorgeous almost screamed. “Man, calm down,” Tac said as she turned and walked off in the direction of the exit. “Don’t see why you are worried. Kristine is probably just fine.” Kristine was not fine. She was sitting on her bed, blankets pulled over her head, wishing she had never become a magical girl. The money and all the other things seemed little compensation for the fact she had been squatting on a roof, rubbing her messy diaper against her bottom. And just maybe she had enjoyed it. She shook her head angrily in denial. Hours had passed, and the room had grown dark around her. She might have sat under her blankets all night if there had not been a knock on her door. At first, she ignored it, but when the knocking turned to a louder pounding, she tossed off the blanket and stood. “What do you want?” she demanded loudly, walking towards the door, slapping the light on. She looked out the peephole. Two men stood at the threshold of the apartment. Both wore suits, the smaller one in dark grey, the taller, heavier one in dark red. “Hello Miss,” the smaller one said, appearing as if he was trying to look back through the peephole. “We’d like to speak to you about your little friend Tac.” Kristine frowned. Had Tac found out something and sent these two as messengers? She made sure the chain was in place and then opened the door, peeking out. “What about Tac?” she asked. She had a better look at the two men than through the peephole. Their suits looked cheap, smelled of mothballs. The smaller one smiled, showing a mouthful of pointy, yellow teeth. “Ah, your little friend is in trouble. Needs you to help her she does. Isn’t that right Mr Badger?” he looked towards the large man. “Most true Mr Rat. Mewling sadly she was, desperate need of saving. Said she loves you she did.” “You’ve never met Tac,” Kristine said, slamming the door closed, bolting it and jumping back. She had no idea who those men were, but if Tac wanted her help, she was pretty sure she would demand it, and there would be no statements of love. “Now Miss, don’t be like that,” Mr Rat said from the other side of the door. The doorknob rattled, and there was a thump as something heavy hit it. Kristine transformed into a Nursery Knight and jammed her pacifier into her mouth, becoming invisible. A moment later the door came free of its hinges and fell in. Mr Badger entered, followed by Mr Rat. Kristine stepped back towards the wall, ready to teleport away. Mr Badger looked around the main room from his place near the door. Mr Rat looked into her kitchen and then the bathroom. “It looks like she's done a runner Mr Badger,” Mr rat said. “Her profile pegged her a teleporter. She could be anywhere now Mr Rat.” “That is rather unfortunate I'm thinking.” “That is so Mr Rat, but were she a time jumper she could be anywhen. You got to look on the positive side.” “You are correct about that Mr Badger. Should we wait here, in case she comes back?” “I think Mr Rat we had best tell his Loftiness about this.” “He won’t be pleased about it Mr Badger.” “That is most certain Mr Rat, but we do ourselves no favours by putting it off.” “Then let us go Mr Badger.” The two left together. Kristine, still invisible, watched them walk down the hall, towards the elevator. She waited until she heard the elevator arrive, listened to the sound of the door closing. She then stepped into the centre of the room, waved her mace at the broken door. It swung up into place, the twisted hinges mostly righting themselves. Good enough for now, she thought and teleported to the front of the building. About thirty seconds later she saw Mr Rat and Mr Badger exit her building and walk to the parking lot. There they got into a beat up old muscle car and then drove away. Kristine followed them, teleporting from rooftop to rooftop. They drove towards the old manufacturing district. While much of the area had been gentrified, old manufacturing buildings turned to condos, the car stopped in one of the regions that had so far avoided renewal. Parking in the lot of an old foundry the two men left their car and entered the building. Kristine followed them. On the first floor was a room that had probably once served as offices. Now it was empty, but for a throne-like chair on which a man with blue skin, dressed in luxe clothing, grey and red and silver. There were several women there, fawning over the man. Kristine noted that all the woman had blank expressions and glassy eyes. “Where is the girl?” he demanded as Mr Rat and Mr Badger entered. He pushed the woman sitting on his lap to the floor as he stood. “Spooked, she teleported away,” Mr Rat said. “Hardly cared about her little cat friend it seems,” Mr Badger said. “What?” the blue man asked. “She looked older than the other Nursery Knights, didn’t she Mr Badger.” “As you say Mr Rat. Less trusting I would say.” “More mature.” “Damn,” the blue man said. “The Duke will not be pleased.” “One would expect,” Mr Rat said. “We’re returning to the Magical Realm. We’ll get a tracker. Best not to let the Duke know of this.” “Most wise, that is,” Mr Badger said. The blue man reached into his jacket, brought out a gem the size of a chicken egg. It glittered and shone with its own inner light. The light grew, Kristine had to look away. When the glow faded, the three men were done. The women all seemed to come to their senses, looked around, confused, scared. Kristine stayed close to them, waited for them to sort themselves out, followed them from the building and watched over them, still invisible, until they had got to the well lit and safer gentrified area. Satisfied that they would be okay, she teleported back to her apartment. There she found Tac, who looked a little relieved when Kristine showed up. “I saw the damaged door and was worried.” Kristine was a little surprised that Tac could be worried. She waved her mace at the door, completing the repairs to it. Then she told Tac what had happened. Tac told her what she had learned. “Thomeone kidnapped the Nurthery Knightth?” “It does look that way,” Tac said. “And now they want me?” “Complete set I would say. Collectors are like that.” “What the hell? What am I thuppothed to do?” “Ah, good question.” “That’th why I athked it.” Tac nodded. “Well, you could try hiding, but you did say they were going to get a tracker.” “That’th what they thaid.” “Right. Well, if they get a true tracker there is no hiding it. It will find you, but they probably won’t get a true tracker.” “Why?” “Cause they are expensive and most end up killing what they are tracking.” “What?” Kristine’s eyes widened. “Well, why else track something?” Kristine had no answer. “So they are probably going to get a lesser tracker. You might be able to hide from that, but you will constantly be on the move.” “I can’t keep running.” Though she thought about it and realised there was nothing in her life that really required her to stay in one place. That might have depressed her were she not worried about the things hunting her. “Well, there is a place you can go where they won’t be able to track you.” “Where?” “The Magical Realm. Whoever is after you might waste weeks hunting the Mundane Realm before they figure you ran to the Magical Realm. And you’ll be a lot harder to track in the Magical Realm. Plus, that’s where we can find out who is behind all this, maybe even stop it.” “Maybe even stop it? Maybe?” “You said they mentioned a Duke. Duke’s can be powerful. I’m not about to stick my tail into a mess like that.” “Thankth a lot,” Kristine said, the lisp taking the edge off the sarcasm. “Listen, Gorgeous seems to care about this, and while she is a pain in my most amazing ass, she does know her stuff. So just trust me. Come to the Magical Realm and maybe we get this sorted out to your benefit. And, most importantly, as I will be doing official work there, they will probably reactivate my expense account.” “Why thould I care about your expenthe account?” “I don’t understand the question,” Tac said after a few seconds. Kristine sighed. “Fine, let’th go to the Magical Realm.”
  22. InkuHime

    Just a Picture

    Yes, that is what I was thinking when I drew the picture.
  23. InkuHime

    Just a Picture

    Thank you very much. I am glad you enjoy it.
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