Search the Community

The Pumpkin Prince: Prologue A/N: Hello again! This story will be my next pet project on this site and it's an idea I've had since October. It's taken me this long to put it into action. but I hope you'll enjoy it. This story focuses on our Main Character Nathan who finds himself in a mysterious world where he must masquerade as the child of a prestigious Count. It's a bit weird, I admit, but vampires and supernatural creatures are my special interest and I've been wanting to write this story for months. It won't contain much of a horror element as much as the Halloween tag may fool you. It will contain semi-forced regression, coercion, intimidation, breastfeeding, bondage, and despite all of that, a lot of fluff. This is just the prologue and while it may seem like a lot so far, I promise we haven't even gotten to the best bit. Without further ado, let's get into it! Nathan hit the bottom of the chasm with a harsh thud. He had no time to prepare himself as the ground had crumbled beneath his feet while walking through a simple pumpkin patch; practically picked clean by patrons the previous days. Groaning, he found he had landed on yet another pumpkin which broke most of his fall. Hissing, he pushed himself up onto his knees. There was a throbbing in his rib and it was with no light amount of disgust that Nathan found he was covered in pumpkin goop. “Fuckin’ hell,” He tried to comment but a rustling of leaves nearby halted him. He finally noticed his predicament as he absorbed his surroundings. He was deep in a cavern, the walls arching up some 30-40 feet up. Lanterns hung down from the ceiling along with a multitude of simple floating candles. He found himself in the middle of a bountiful pumpkin patch. Very Charlie Brown-esque. The rustling grew nearer and was soon accompanied by a voice. “Fibby, Tibby, is that you? You know your mom said she’d ground you if you two picked my pumpkins again-” Time seemed to stop as the figure revealed himself and Nathan felt his stomach drop. Standing in front of him was a tall, lanky figure. It towered over him and was dressed in well-worn overalls; the kind with patches on the knees and one strap broken. It wore gloves that had to have been white at some point but were now stained a dark brown with time. A simple threadbare flannel under the overalls and worn black rainboots finished the ensemble. However, what shook Nathan was the burlap sack over the figure’s face. Bits of straw poked through the bag forming a patchy beard while the bag conformed to the shape of a face. The eyeholes were wide and expressive and looked down at Nathan with what he was sure was a faux concern. “Oh, you poor thing-” The Scarecrow cooed as he leaned down toward Nathan, finally forcing him to act. “AHHHH!” Nathan screamed, scrambling away as quickly as he could. Which wasn’t very quick mind you. He found himself slipping in the pumpkin goop until his back hit a large white fence. Pain shot through his side and leg at the moment, but Nathan was more focused on the scarecrow now approaching him quickly. Another scream tore through him. “Shhhh!” The scarecrow hushed him quickly. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, little guy. Honest.” Throat now burning from exertion Nathan could only whimper as the scarecrow shuffled closer. Its gloved hand reached up toward the bag on his head and pulled it off slowly. With the bag off, Nathan balked at a very familiar sight. “M-Mister Myles?” He stuttered looking into the soft wrinkles of Mr. Myles Patch, the sweet and kind middle-aged man who kept his minuscule town stocked with award-winning pumpkins every fall season. Mr. Myles nodded slowly, seemingly emboldened by Nathan’s waning fright. He snuck a bit closer, gently placing a hand on Nathan’s leg causing him to gasp in pain. “You bumbled yourself quite a bit.” He muttered worriedly. “We need to get you inside so I can call a doctor before anyone sees you here.” Nathan opened his mouth to speak but had to bite down on his lip to fight a wail as Myles lifted him from the remains of the pumpkin. He was swiftly carried inside what looked to be a cozy cottage. Mr. Myles wasted no time carrying him towards a living room that looked like something out of a granny’s dream home catalog. However, the couch was more comfortable than it looked as Mr. Myles laid him down. “Sit tight, kiddo while I call a doctor.” ‘I’m not a kid.’ Nathan wanted to comment as he was 17, about to be 18 come next season. But he was more focused on trying not to cry what with his throbbing leg and side. There was quick mumbling coming from the tiny kitchen. Mr. Myles saying something about ‘-An emergency. Come quick and come alone.’ When he returned, he held a glass of clear water, a thin straw sticking out the top rim. “Come on,” He encouraged as he held the straw to Nathan’s lips. “Have a sip.” The water was cool and refreshing to Nathan’s sore throat, but it didn’t erase his questions. “Where am I?” He demanded. “What happened?” Mr. Myles bit his lip before putting the glass down and sitting on the armchair nearby. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It sounds crazy.” Nathan huffed out an annoyed breath. “I fell through the ground into a pumpkin patch owned by a scarecrow who just so happens to be the friendly old man who lives up the street.” He summed up. “I’m in pain and I want to go home. Just tell me what’s going on!” Mr. Myles seemed to be battling with himself for a moment longer before he sighed. “This is Autumn Hollow…A village that’s existed below yours for centuries…It’s another world, of sorts. The hole you fell in was a portal. I don’t know how you found it, usually, it’s closed.” “I was walking through your patch…” “I closed up yesterday morning, though, son. Shouldn’t you be trick or treatin’?” Nathan shrugged and winced. “I was passing through. Clearing my head.” It was definitely more than that. But he wasn’t about to dump his whole home life on what was essentially a stranger. Luckily, a quick knock on the door saved him from having to explain. Mr. Myles got up to greet the doctor and soon he was leading in an elderly woman in a black apron. She looked nice enough with her grey hair curling around her ears under a wide-brimmed black hat. When she saw Nathan tense with pain on the couch, her face fell. “Oh you poor dear,” She set a heavy bag down on the coffee table with a thud and pulled a square cloth from her pocket. Nathan could only lay there as she dabbed at the pumpkin goop drying on his face. “Ma’am, are you a doctor?” He asked hesitantly. “Oh, sweet child. I’m better than a doctor,” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m a witch!” “Can you help me?” Nathan pleaded. He had seen so much already and frankly he wasn’t in the mood to dispute the logistics of an old woman being a witch while laying on a couch belonging to a scarecrow. “I’m in a bit of pain.” Immediately, the witch nodded. “I’ll fix you right up, baby. We gotta let the cauldron boil.” What followed was a series of terrifying events all leading up to an anticlimactic finish. As the unseen cauldron started to boil, the witch disappeared into the kitchen with Mr. Myles leaving Nathan a mere 20ft away. “Myles hand me your eyes of newt.” “Lucky I picked some up not too long ago.” “Now we add the spider legs…” “We need the plan to get him home. You know I can’t tote him through town.” “Spider. Legs. Myles.” “Right, apologies.” “I could have sworn I brought some snake fangs…” “Right here. So what do you think we should do?” “Hmm…You have a half-sister, don’t you? The one married to the Count?” “So?” “Say he’s your nephew. Problem solved.” “You’re missing the moon drops-” “Don’t tell me how to brew!” “Well- I can’t say he’s my nephew! Nobody would believe that even if he could pass as their son, why would she let him visit now?” “It’s none of their business. Just say he’s your nephew and move on.” “But he can’t pass for Hollow Folk, Debs.” This bickering continued until Nathan felt as if his stomach was turning inside out. After all, goat’s tears?! No way he was drinking that. He’d rather suffer. But when Mr. Myles and the witch returned, she wasn’t holding some disgusting concoction in a glass bottle. Rather, she held a plain white mug with a mountain of what looked like whipped cream and chocolate shavings. The cherry on top was a cookie wafer straw sticking up through the foam. “Okay, baby. I made you some nice hot cocoa to help you feel better.” Immediately Nathan looked at her with mistrust. There was no way that came from those ingredients. But she only looked at him with gentle regard. “Come on, son. You don’t want it to get cold.” Very hesitantly, he took the mug, wincing as Myles propped up pillows behind him to sit up. Nathan sniffed the mug, but only smelled sweet chocolate and whipped cream. He licked the whipped cream peak and found it to be exactly as he remembered it to taste. His reservations slowly disappeared when he took the wafer straw into his mouth and took the tiniest sip. It was hot chocolate. Warm, sweet, creamy even. Not even burning hot considering how quickly they had brought it out to him. As he took another, deeper sip, he realized his aches and pains were starting to melt away. Breathing was getting easier. His knee throbbed less and less before halting completely. Each sip of the delicious liquid made him feel warm and soft. Before he knew it, the mug was empty. Even the whipped cream had melted into the cocoa and he crunched the softened wafer straw before putting the mug on the coffee table. “Feel better?” The witch asked and Nathan nodded. “Thank you, ma’am,” Because he had manners. “Oh, please,” The witch sat down on the couch beside him, ignoring the pumpkin goop smeared on the cushion. “Call me Debbie.” Nathan gave her a gentle smile before Mr. Myles’ throat cleared. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, son, but we have to get you home before nightfall.” “We’ve already discussed it, Myles. He’ll play your nephew and you can get him to the return portal!” Debbie groaned. “I can make him look like Hollow Folk if it makes you feel better, but it’s not as big of a deal as you say.” “Whatever gets me home.” Nathan agreed readily. Myles ran a hand over his face, somehow ditching his gloves when Nathan didn’t notice. “What if my sister hears?” “Then you can explain. She’d understand. She’s not as uppity as you make her seem. She was a small farm town girl at one point.” Debbie seemed determined, rooting through her heavy bag. “I have just the thing too.” As she was searching, Myles pulled on his burlap sack once more. It was a strange sight to see as it contoured to his face looking identical to him now that Nathan wasn’t panicking. Debbie hummed triumphantly as she pulled out what looked to Nathan to be a set of plastic vampire fangs. The kind that came with a cheap vampire costume and made it hard to talk. He wasn’t sure of the intelligence of the Hollow Folk, but a simple set of plastic fangs couldn’t possibly fool them. Debbie, understanding his confusion, pointed to Myles. “It’s like his mask, son. This will disguise you well enough to fool anyone in town. Pop them in, and bite down as hard as you can. Be prepared to adjust.” Nathan had no idea what adjust meant but he took the fangs anyway and slipped them into his mouth. Before he bit down, Debbie stood. “I’ll get the sink ready for a bath.” He dismissed her words as more magical nonsense and bit down as hard as he could. A rush of warmth overtook his body. It almost felt like the drop of a roller coaster and his back met the soft pillows. Opening his eyes that he didn’t know he closed, Nathan took in the sight of the cottage. What was originally a dimly lit, the worn-down cottage was now a rich, homely environment. There were motes of light casting soft shadows around the room and he couldn’t help but stare. “The improved eyesight is a pretty good deal,” Myles noted and Nathan was startled upon realizing Myles towered over him so harshly. ‘Give me space!’ He tried to say, but what came out was a high-pitched slur. “Spay!” “Spuh-” He stuttered. “Spay!” “Easy there, son,” Myles reached for Nathan and lifted him off the couch by his underarms. “The magic goes by your spiritual maturity. Relax and let me get you home.” Nathan ignored him. “Me dow’! No!” He squirmed as he was carried to the kitchen, just as cozy and lit as the living room. And Debbie had filled a large farm sink with sweet lavender-scented suds. “Let’s get that pumpkin guts off him. I’ll bathe him while you find him something to wear?” Nathan was stripped much to his protest and deposited into the sink. To his horror, he fit inside. He felt tears fill his eyes as he looked up at Debbie. “Noo!” He warbled. Looking down at his hands. They were small and chubby, little clumsy sausages gripping the edge of the sink. “Baby,” Debbie cooed, running a warm cloth down his back. “The sooner we get you clean the sooner you can go home.” “No’ baby!” Nathan pouted, pushing the suds in rebellion as tears started to dribble. “Wan’ go ‘ome!” “You will,” Debbie promised. “Trust me.” He cried through the entire fiasco that was the bath and even harder as Debbie wrapped him in a fluffy red towel to dry while Myles hunted for clothes. “That man,” Debbie huffed the longer he took. “Grab anything and I’ll shrink it down!” Myles returned soon enough with a handful of garments. First was a billowy nightshirt in impeccable condition. Not a spec of dirt or wear which happened to be a sharp contrast to the entire home. The second was a rectangle of fabric. “This was my sister’s growing up,” He held out the nightshirt. “And I figure this…Is necessary.” He held out the fabric. “Oh, my my,” Debbie said with a pleasant smile. “He’ll look so adorable. Like a little Pumpkin Prince should!” She grabbed the garments and held a squirming Nathan over to Myles while she shrunk them to size. Myles bounced Nathan slightly, trying to cheer him up. “You’re gonna go home, kiddo. We’ll go right after we get you dressed.” Nathan’s cries ceased from exhaustion once the clothes were ready. Debbie slipped the nightshirt over his head and tied the neckline in a neat bow. His humiliation increased as he realized the strip of fabric was in fact a diaper. But it was an old-school sort. The kind that was done up with safety pins Debbie had no trouble conjuring out of thin air and secured the diaper on. “There we go, Viscount Dracul.” She spoke in a heavily accented tone before scooping him into her arms and encouraging him to lean against her shoulder. “Let’s go then.” And Nathan watched as Myles packed a small canvas bag with various items. A blanket, a stuffed pumpkin plush, and an umbrella which most definitely shouldn’t have fit in the bag but did. “Remember, Nathan. I’m your uncle. Your mommy and daddy let you stay with me for the day and now we’re sending you home. You are 18 months old and you’re very tired after a long day of playing.” “M’tay.” Nathal gave a shuddered breath. It wouldn’t be too hard to pretend to be exhausted, he thought. Boy was he wrong as they stepped out into the front yard. If the inside of the cottage was straight out of a movie, the outside view was an otherworldly vision. Myles’ cottage sat on top of a large hill overlooking an entire village. The village was abuzz with sights. Quaint little houses all as cozy and homely as Myles lined up along a grid of walkways. But the further out the walkways went, the more the town changed. It was as if it were one big carnival. The music carried through the air, wrapping around Nathan’s mind and luring him in. He could smell the sweetness of caramel apples and kettle corn. “Head down, baby,” Debbie instructed softly. The trio walked (well Nathan was carried) down the hill to the entrance of the town. Chatter could be heard all around. They didn’t make it far before a chirp-like voice called out to them. “Mr. Myles! We’ve been looking for you,” Nathan turned his head to see a rather short creature with the head of a raven approaching. “We need another judge for the pumpkin carving contest!” “I wish I could, Cork, but I need to get this little guy home.” “Oh?! Who is this?” They asked stepping up to Debbie. “My nephew,” Myles said quickly. “Really we have to go. His mother wants him home before nightfall. And he’s already so sleepy. You know how babies are-” The bird creature gave a pleasant tweet as it held its hands-wings? Up to Debbie to receive the child. “Let me get a looksie!” Nathan watched Mr. Myles give Debbie a look as she bent over and handed Nathan over. “He doesn’t look so sleepy to me,” Cork trilled while looking Nathan over. “What’s his name?” “Uh..” Myles’ eyes shifted back and forth to get an idea. “Nathaniel.” Cork nodded and Nathan felt a delicate feather pressing his chin down slightly. He let out a noise of discontentment and Cork let him go quickly. “Such a strong name. And I can see his fangs poking through he’s gonna be a heartthrob for the ladies. I can already tell!” Cork handed Nathan back to Debbie as he started to squirm. “You should bring him ‘round to Martha. She’d love to meet him!” “I would, but-” “Martha!” Cork cawed through the air. Pretty soon a whole horde of Hollow Folk came to get an eyeful of Mr. Myles’ nephew Nathaniel. And with them came gifts. Nathan couldn’t help but preen at the attention even if some of the Hollow Folk made his tiny heart clench at the sight of them. They were all quite nice from their first impression. He didn’t know which one had deposited a sunflower crown on his head, but it made him feel special nonetheless. One woman in a similar, newer-looking, black apron compared to Debbie’s came up with a small spoon food of orange-tinted puree. “Let’s see how the baby likes my pumpkin pie.” Nathan wasn’t one to turn down treats, especially if they were as delicious as the hot cocoa he was served before. The tiny spoon slipped into his mouth and he mushed the paste around with his clumsy tongue. It was miles better than the store-bought pies his mother tended to buy at the last moment for Thanksgiving. The filling filled his mouth with warmth and as he swallowed his bite, he couldn’t help but let out a gurgled giggle. “‘Ummy!” He tried to tell the woman who visibly melted at the sight of his joy. “Oh my stars, he loves it!” She cheered triumphantly. “Now, wait a minute,” A sweeter voice chimed in from the back of the crowd. “I want him to try mine!” “And mine!” Several more voices piped up and Nathan found himself the sole judge in a pie-baking contest. Debbie sat down on a bench made from woven fibers and a line of women wanting their pie judged filled in front of her. When each pie was tasted, and each woman gave a word of praise from his limited vocabulary (because each one, he swore, was the best pie he had ever tasted) he was handed a large blue ribbon. “Which one was the best?” Debbie encouraged him to pick. She even set him down on his feet to choose despite his bare feet. The ground was soft even for a child, tufts of grass not too long to trip, but long enough to cover the soil. He took one step forward towards the group. Nathan blinked at the group of women eagerly waiting to be chosen for the ribbon. This attention was as far different than before. He was the center of attention, but rather than doting on him, they were waiting for him to do something. It was all too familiar to his parents. Waiting for him to decide on a college, waiting for him to graduate, waiting for him to do something impressive. Eager to just get it over with, Nathan rushed over to the first woman, the youngest of the group, and handed her the ribbon. He didn’t wait for their response before he rushed to the nearest adult he recognized which just so happened to be Myles. Myles of course wasted no time scooping him up into his arms. Nathan buried his face into the rough texture of the flannel on Myles’ shoulder and held onto him tightly. “‘Ome. ‘Ome.” The revelry of the group seemed to dissipate as they realized their judge wasn’t as enthusiastic as before. “Oh no,” One baker cooed softly. “Did we scare him?” “No, no,” Myles was quick to assure. “Poor baby isn’t used to such a large crowd. He’s really looking forward to seeing his Mommy and Daddy again.” “Well, if Mary would bring him by once in a harvest moon he wouldn’t be so jumpy,” Someone scoffed. “But she’s pretty busy up in her ivory tower now, too busy to say hi to us hicks, huh?” “That’s my sister you’re talking about,” Myles warned. “She’s just been busy what with her work and now the baby-” Debbie took it as a great time to step in. “You all forget how old-school the Count is. He was around before we folk started to spread out. It took him and Mary a great deal of thinkin’ before they decided to let Myles keep the baby overnight.” She lied flawlessly. “Now instead of judging a first-time mom, we should all be thankful and show her her faith was not lost on us to show her baby boy a good time.” “But that can wait til the next trip!” Myles stepped in once more. “She only let me watch him for a few hours so we should get him back about now-” “Awww can’t it wait just a little longer?” Cork lamented. “We haven’t had a baby around since Tibby and Fibby were born!” “And that was over a decade ago!” “Next time,” Myles swore. “If I don’t get him back by nightfall, she’ll be so angry she won’t let me watch him again.” A gasp overtook the crowd as if he admitted to some heinous crime. And then it wasn’t so hard to walk through the village. People waved and cooed at Nathan but didn’t try to halt their path. A few times, they would hand the boy small trinkets and gifts which he accepted happily. A hand-carved wooden dog, a necklace with a bat on the end, and even a woven bracelet slipped onto his chubby wrist. Despite his fright from before, Nathan felt his heart sink the closer and closer they grew to an old white building with purple light emanating from stained glass panes. Was he ready to go home? Wouldn’t it be better to just stay here where people clearly wanted him around? He made a small noise of distress and Myles patted him on his back soothingly. “We’re almost there, bud. You’ll be home soon.” “Wha…” The baby stuttered, fingers dipping closer to his lips in nervousness. “I ‘tay?” He asked. “What is it?” Myles asked, pausing in his steps and looking at Nathan’s hidden face. “Wan’ ‘tay.” Nathan spoke clearer. Debbie chose then to pipe up. “I think he’s asking to stay, Myles.” At once, Myles’ face fell. “Oh, son,” “Wan’ ‘tay.” “You gotta go home, son. Your parents are probably wondering where you are. I already told the town you’re going home…Your place is up there,” Myles motioned to the dirt ceiling. “You’ll go home and eat dinner and…this will all just seem like a weird dream.” Tears sprouted in Nathan’s eyes as his lip quivered. “Nooo!” Myles didn’t know what it was like. Myles could just disappear down here where people liked him and forget about the outside world. His fists struck, thumping against Myles’ shoulder without force but the man kept walking. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he stayed,” Debbie piped up. “Just for a little while…” “Time moves differently up there, Debs,” Myles sighed. “Each night here is two months up there. He has a life and family up there. And we can’t keep him. Especially if my sister heard that I’ve been toting around a topsider as my nephew.” Nathan sobbed heaving breaths. If he went home, he’d have to go back to a family who barely cared about him. To friends too busy deciding their own futures to even spend the day with him. To the stack of transcripts and pamphlets on his desk demanding he decides what he was going to do when there wasn’t anything that interested him in the world. He wasn’t an athlete or a genius. He was just Nathan, a small-town boy who sometimes bagged groceries at the EZ Mart on the corner. What was there in the world for him when there was something so homely and soft right under his feet? Myles kept walking until he opened the door to the white building. He set Nathan down on the ground and Nathan found himself in a small room. The purple light came from an arched portal in the wall, swirling and glowing with energy. “Now all you have to do is walk through that portal and you’ll be home…” “Wan’ ‘tay!” Nathan said once more but Myles shook his head. “No, you don’t, buddy. You have a life you need to live…And I’ll still see you around occasionally. Maybe even come back to my patch next year and I’ll share a cup of cocoa with you.” Nathan looked up at Myles, his face crumbled and pleading. “You’re breaking my heart here, kid.” Myles sighed… “Go on…” Hands balled up in the fabric of his nightshirt, Nathan turned to the portal and ran through. Clearly, he wasn’t wanted… Nathan woke up on the cold hard ground with a gasp. Shooting up, he turned his head around to see that he was once more back in the pumpkin patch. He was in his old clothes free of any pumpkin guts and part of him wondered if he had just dreamed the entire thing. Tears bubbled in his eyes and he took a moment to cry at the loss. But as he went to stand, several things caught his eye. There in the grass was a sunflower flower crown, a hand-carved wooden dog a bracelet…and a plastic set of vampire fangs. Fishing around his neck, he felt the cold chain of a necklace as well. So it had happened… Gathering his trinkets, Nathan stood and had no other choice but to head home…He walked into the back door hoping to not be noticed, but his luck had always been terrible. “Nate? Is that you? Where have you been?!” His mother called out from the kitchen. “I haven’t seen you all day!” “I was over at Mike’s house…we were…looking at scholarships…” He lied quickly, already heading for the stairs and going up. “Well, we already ate dinner.” She called up to him. “Your plate’s in the fridge.” “Thanks, mom…” She left him alone after that and Nathan was free to hide away his new trinkets on his nightstand. He would lay in bed that night and dream about a world underground. People who looked odd, but had hearts made of gold. Being doted on. Being loved. He’d shed tears on his pillow, hoping one day he could go back.

This is not my first story but I'm hardly a prolific writer and this probably isn't the best story, but it aims to be fun at least: After a long day at work I find myself sitting alone at a table in an upscale restaurant, patiently waiting for my date to turn arrive, sipping on a delightful cocktail I checked my phone, she had already messaged to say she was running late and that i should get seated and have a drink. I skim through her profile again. "Angelique" 32, 6' 2" doesn't smoke, drinks socially, omnivore Enjoys good food, cooking, cocktails, twilight strolls, good conversation, reading, philosophy travel, design, architecture and art. Dislikes assholes, asparagus, snakes and churches. Tucked away at the bottom "prefers miss our ma'am unless otherwise instructed" While reading this and committing it to memory I hear some heels clicking across the stone floor of the restaurant, glancing up i see a woman looking very much like the photos on the internet, dressed to the nines in a perfectly fitting red dress, I resist the urge to pinch myself to ensure i hadn't drifted into the realm of fantasy. As she walks to the table i can't help but notice that she doesn't so much walk as glide, walking with an elegance and poise I've not quite seen before. As the waiter escorted her to the table I stand to greet her, now somewhat awestruck. Usually when you met people the photos are an idealized curated representation here it was quite the opposite. she had dark hair and milky white skin that almost seemed to shine, silver and diamond jewelry complemented the effect. We sit again and I have to force myself to get some words out: "Good evening Miss, I hope this isn't too forward of me, but you look absolutely stunning" Immediately Angelique smiled "Thank you sweetie, you're looking adorable yourself" I'm wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a red brocade waistcoat. "Dress smart, wear something red" was one of her instructions when we were setting this rendezvous up. "So, I see you can read and follow instructions" Angelique beamed "this seems to be a rare quality in boys these days, please call me Angelique" I feel myself blushing both at the tone and the very fact I'm was being complimented, it's not something I'm particularly used to. "Thank You, Angelique, I do my best" We peruse the menu for a moment "have you been here before?" I ask " do you have any suggestions?" "yes, absolutely this is one of my favorites, you can't go wrong with anything, they're known for the steak but the seafood dishes are great too and the brussel sprouts here are amazing" "Thanks, I was leaning towards the dry aged rib eye, and brussel sprouts are literally my favorite" as i say this i also shuddered slightly at the price of it. If the choice of restaurant was anything to go by Angelique certainly had expensive tastes, in the back of my mind i hoped she'd volunteer to split the bill, while spending a couple hundred dollars on a meal wouldn't break the bank it was far more than i would usually spend, especially on a first date. Angelique looked up from the wine list "do you like red wine? They have one of my favorites if you'd like to split it?" "Absolutely, I'm not the biggest wine connoisseur but I definitely enjoy it" Exactly on queue as if summoned the waiter appears. "Are you ready to order madame or do you need some more time?" "No, we're ready. We'll start with the scallops, I'll go for a New York strip, rare, he'll have the ribeye, medium rare and we'll split the brussel sprouts. Also the 2016 reserve Cabernet" After taking the menus we're left alone again. At this point I'm a little flushed, I've never had someone order for me in a restaurant especially not on a first date and I'm really liking where this is going. I run though a the profile in my head trying to think of something to talk about. "So, I read on your profile you're into philosophy, do you have any favorite philosophers?" Maybe a little heavy for a first topic but we'll see where this goes "oh absolutely I've always been partial to Nietzsche, I love what he has to say about exceptional people and how we should seek to be truly exceptional and live by our own internal code" For the next 2 hours the conversation flows we span multiple subjects and I can't find a single subject that she doesn't seem extremely well versed, with a depth of knowledge that I wonder where she finds the time to learn all of this, we go on journeys down rabbit holes I don't even know exist. The meal as promised was exquisite with everything being perfectly cooked and seasoned, eventually with the wine gone and having polished off a cheese plate it comes time to leave. The waiter brings the check and curiously hands it's directly to Angelique. I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. Angelique smiles again "don't be silly sweetheart, I've got this" she says Again I find myself blushing "are you sure? I could get this? Or we could split it?" "Do I look confused?" She retorts in a stern but still caring tone "now put that away and let me get this" The restaurant is a short walk from my apartment but she had mentioned getting driven here. "Can I wait with you until your car arrives?" I ask, hoping to prolong the evening just that little bit longer. "Of course you can sweetie" we walk outside the restaurant but again exactly like with the waiter a black Mercedes pulls up as if summoned out of the ether, I haven't seen her touch a phone or anything. "This is me" she says "I really enjoyed our dinner" before giving me a chance to reply she pops a single kiss on my cheek and jumps into the car. At this point the walk home is a daze, I'm almost floating. Drunk on infatuation and excitement (and a bottle of wine for good measure) Arriving home I mix myself an old fashioned and sit on the sofa to reflect. My phone bings telling me I have another match on the dating app, I would normally be taking a look, but it no longer seems worthwhile. I glance at my profile. Alex Evans, 30, 5' 11" It goes into some depth but the gist of it is I'm a nerd and an engineer who enjoys making things (food, beer, trebuchet etc) I wonder what made me catch the eye of this incredible woman, do I deserve her and while she might have paid this time, I can't afford that kind of restaurant every day. As fun as the evening has been, all things must come to an end and I head to bed and collapse face forward into it, falling asleep almost instantly.

So, I had a little bit of a time getting things out, but I'm back at it. There are a few other posts on my WordPress if you want to catch up, but this is the first page of my new story. Hope you all enjoy! I will be posting the rest of Displayed and Future Derailed I have out as well soon. https://toofplaypen.wordpress.com/2021/11/13/first-moon-forever-1/ Where do I even start? Hi, my name is Rachel. Oh, gross… that feels so forced… how about… As long as I can remember, I’ve always been obsessed with werewolves. What started as terror, grew into a fascination and even desire. I wanted to be a werewolf. As a kid I remember Winnie in ‘Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School”. I always thought she was really cool. Then I started reading and found books like ‘Werewolf of Fever Swamp’, ‘Night in Werewolf Woods’ and ‘Werewolf Skin’ were always my favorites, but my Goosebumps books seemed to vanish. Turns out that was from one of the school bullies hiding them in a closet, but as a kid I was convinced I was learning too much and the werewolves were trying to stop me. When I found ‘Cycle of the Werewolf’ at the library, I had to check it out and… let’s just say it was an eye opening experience. Possibly the first time I’d seen so much blood in a picture book, not to mention the entirety that was the February entry. But even with how intense it was, my little fourth grade mind just loved it. Over the years I saw movies like ‘An American Werewolf in Paris’ (I don’t want to hear how it isn’t as good as London, it’s just the one I saw first.), ‘The Howling’ and the ‘Ginger Snaps’ series. Hell, I lost my virginity when a girl I was dating at nineteen put on ‘Dog Soldiers’ and her strap-on. All that to say, I was obsessed. That obsession led me to dive into the legends, then the history surrounding those legends. I started looking for sightings, confessions, anything that could possibly lead me to become a werewolf myself. So far as I can tell, they usually have packs. Sometimes those packs end up in places of power for their area. I’ve even heard a rumor that there’s a werewolf mayor somewhere in the US. Over the last month, I’ve stumbled across rumors of one of the most powerful alphas, if not the most powerful, in the country living less than an hour from me. From what I can tell on the hunter sites, this alpha keeps their pack well under control and even has helped the hunters in the city. I plan to make a trip next week to see if I can find them. <Edited by @Aliceko_chan over on Twitter!>

My name is Ben Brown, yeah I know not very imaginative! If you really want to know I am Benjamin David Brown III. I am an Investigator for Fairfield County Sheriffs Office. In the great State of Arizona! It had been so damn long since I had a vacation I was getting to the point of having a psychotic episode. That means basically I was getting to the point if I ran into another dumbass stupid person I would probably shoot them myself, basically become Judge Jury and Executioner, in my book "To stupid to live" should be grounds fo execution! Most people think they are being so smart when they kill somebody else. They think that "I'm not going to get caught! I am sooo much smarter than everybody else!" They always leave something incriminating behind. One guy that killed his grandmother for his inheritance was in such an all fired hurry to get away he left his bumper behind tore it off his car. It still had his License Plate attached he had gotten maybe 5 miles before he was pulled over by an alert Deputy. His alibi was he was supposed to be miles away about 200. He was sited for a vehicle with no plates. He started to come back and his grandma had been discovered deceased and he was getting there the same time as our Deputies were arriving. One of the Deputies was one of the the ones that had written his ticket. He was also the one I let take him to jail. I so wanted to put a bullit through his head, dumbass! I guess the only thing keeping me from doing that was I have a little way to relieve the stress in my life. When I get home I change out of my suit that I wear and put some other things on. I have diapers, a onesie and baby bottles with huge nipples and an adult pacifier. I play baby. It keeps me somewhat sane I haven't shot anyone yet but those urges are still there. Sometimes I have wore adult pullups to work. I have my onesie on underneath my suit and over my pullup and my pacifier is in my pocket. I have prayed that I don't get shot or in some kind of accident, I think I would rather bleed to death than be discovered wearing those. I was lucky one time we got called out for an investigation and some guy hit my car. Tboned me I got bruised ribs and my shoulder was bruised from when the seatbelt kept me safe but broke my collar bone The guy had ran a red light. Dumbass! At least that day I was in my boxers, I had actually thought about being diapered that morning. How did I get interested in diapers you ask? Well let's just say I wore them at night until I was almost 16 years old then every so often after that if I had wet my bed I was put back in them until 4 Days had passed that I stayed dry. I discovered my budding sexuality in diapers. Like most 12 and 13 year olds I discovered masturbation, in diapers. I started dreaming of girls that were diapered and wet their beds like me. One girl I never knew who she was, she was a girl I dreamed about. Problem was I didn't even know who the hell she was but I loved her. She was the girl of my bedwetting dreams her name was Jillian just a name I gave her I guess. After I graduated high school where I lettered in Football, Wrestling, Baseball, Track and Field. I received a Scholorship to play Football at Fairfield University. Now this was not ASU, or U of A. This was a smaller 4 year University in the State of Arizona. After graduation where I majored in Criminal Justice. I decided to become a Deputy for Fairfield County. I became a Road Deputy I was out catching the speeders and shoplifters, drunk drivers. I did that for 8 years then I tested for Detective I didn't think that I had a snowballs chance in hell. All the people who tested were all long time Officer and born in this county I was an outsider. Low and behold I passed seems the guys that I was going up against were dumber than a box of rocks. I was told it wasn't even close! Then one night about 4 years ago I was asleep and when I awoke I had wet my bed. I hadn't had any alcohol, I had no dream of swimming or getting up to go pee or anything like that, and the fact I had slept through it concerned me. I went and bought some Attends or Depends one of those. I had decided to treat myself like my mother had and wear diapers for 4 days after a bedwetting episode just to make sure it wasn't a relapse. I made it three nights the night was supposed to be my last night. I will be damned if I didn't piss my bed, starting 4 more days! Was I having problems I am 30 years old a little old to be wetting my bed still. I looked up adult bedwetting on line. Holy Hell! I found out I wasn't alone. Plus I found thousands of picture of beautiful women wearing and wetting diapers. These were some of the dreams I had as a kid of 13 or 14 years old. I also saw that they were wearing diapers that put the Attends or Depends that I wore to shame. I was very surprised there were loads of them as well I ordered a case of M-4's if I woke up dry I wet them and then got up I found I liked wetting my bed again. Then I saw ladies acting like babies, how did that work I Investigated that and I got me a few onesies and baby bottles with adult sized nipples, I even got me a pacifier. Now I had to do this on my own I had no mommy to care for me. I couldn't see myself telling my mom this I'm sure she would of took my weapon and shot me! "To stupid to live!" I met a few others like me in the county. They told me about a hotel that catered to people like us it was called Sunshine Acres. It was way on the very outskirts of our county well that wasn't the end of the county but it was in the foothills of the Fairfield Mountains. I had seen the building, I had no idea what went on there but I had patrolled out around there a few times in my days. There had been an older lady that had been killed when she hit an Elk out there just about a year and a half ago. She lived there. This was no foul play the lady was doing about 35 and the elk ran right in front of her. The elk was killed it went through the windshield and landed on the driver and the weight of the elk suffocated her she couldn't breath she had been the owner of Sunny Acres. He didn't know who owned it now but from what I understood she was like me and liked playing baby. That's where I was headed for my long awaited vacation. I was wearing a thick diaper and a onesie over that and regular clothes over that. I had my pacifier in my mouth just sucking away. If I encountered anybody in another car it was placed on the seat beside me. I had to pee something fierce I was diapered and I let it flow. I pulled into the front gate of Sunshine Acres there was a wooden banner that proclaimed that. I got to the front and a girl of about 12 came out. "Can I help you?" "Yeah you can, I'm Ben Brown your guest for the next two weeks." The girl smiled exhibiting a mouth of braces. "Mr, Brown we've been expecting you! Moms up cooking supper. Come on in!" I entered the door and there was a lady that has kneading dough. "Mom Mr. Brown is here!" "Mr. Brown, good to...." When she turned I realized I had known this woman almost my whole life, though I had never met her, she was the girl that I had dreamed about all those years ago when I was a bedwetrer. The girl of my dreams. "You?" We both said together!

This is another story that was posted on another site but never here. (1) New School I don’t think anyone will try to kill me this time. Not here. I mean, as school entrances go, it really doesn’t even look all that imposing: just a medium sized stairway leading to a white double door under an archway with some sort of Latin inscription. I have no clue what it means; I don’t really care either. As long as it doesn’t mean Carly isn’t welcome here it’s fine by me. And I don’t think it means that. I’m pretty sure there’s no reason for anyone here to hate me. Not for who I am or what I am or what I may bring with me. At least not yet. Mom let me help pick out this town. I think she felt it would give me some ownership in the move or something. I know that’s what my therapist said, anyway, and it sounded good in theory. You’re taking a teen out of school and moving across the country, uprooting her during high school: a traumatic experience, right? She’ll have to say goodbye to friends, move away from places she feels comfortable and get used to everything all over again. And she’ll be that most awkward of things: the new girl. Truth be told, though, I was ecstatic. I suppose I used to have friends—well, a couple, anyway—but we’ve moved so much that I never really feel settled anywhere. And this move? It couldn’t come fast enough because the very last thing I was back in Elmdale was comfortable. If I had really explained to Dr. Sessions (what a name for a shrink!) what was going on at Elmdale High and why I started skipping school...and why I did what I did, not that I can even recall most of it...I suspect the only move I’d have made would have been into a padded cell. But Dr. Sessions is behind me now too, like Elmdale High, like Marissa, like… It isn’t good to dwell on this. Picking the new town was interesting. Mom’s new job was going to be in LA, so we had to be in commuting distance, though the fact is that she’d actually be working from home most days. So we sat with a map and a computer and wandered through the towns we had as options. The hundreds of towns we had as options. She suggested we go somewhere near the ocean, and at first I thought that really didn’t matter to me anymore, but she talked me into it. And when it came right down to it, what difference did I really think it would make? “You’ll regret it if we don’t,” she said, and I had to agree she was probably right. And that’s how we ended up in Corona Bay. It just ended up checking enough of our boxes to pass the test. So now I stand here staring at some Latin writing on the door of Corona Bay High School (Go, Sea Lions!), needing only to walk up the stairs to start my first day, a week after the year began for everyone else here. Joy. I examine the entryway carefully, searching for any sign of anything that might seem odd, but there’s nothing. Kids file past, normal enough looking kids, not even noticing me, many dressed in the school colors of red and grey. I look down at my red skirt and white top: it will do, I think. Raising my head, I notice a teacher at the top of the stairs looking down at me with a helpful look in his eye. Oh God. Please don’t. “Miss?” he calls to me. Damn. “You look a bit lost. May I help you?” You might have begun by not calling everyone’s attention to it. But I give him my best smile. “I’m fine. My first day.” Now he returns the smile. “Ah, I understand. Well, come on up here and I’ll show you where you’ll need to go.” Nothing for it now but to go with him. He seems all right. “I’m Mr. Benson,” he says, his smile seemingly stuck to his face. “I’m one of the Deans, but I hang around in the cafeteria and student commons a lot, so you’ll probably see me there.” “Nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Carly Lannigan. Just moved here from near Chicago.” Mr. Benson is around forty, trim, with short hair graying around the temples. He doesn’t look at all severe though; not like a military kind of guy. More just like someone who takes care of himself. I know exactly what I look like to him: a long-haired redhead in that red skirt and white blouse, no makeup which I should have put on to hide the freckles that are already appearing from the sun, and inexpensive sandals. In other words, I look like every other teenage girl, at least up north. In California, if the kids I saw entering the building are any judge, the girls are all fashion models. My problem, though, is that I’m most definitely not. Either a fashion model or normal. I can wish for it all I want, but it just ain’t going to happen. Which is why I’m standing here in the main office of a new school thousands of miles across the country from my old one, in a town where I know no one and no one knows me. I’d say I intend to hide in the crowd here, but it isn’t true. No can do, amigos. That’s for some other chiquita. “But Carly,” Mom said, “it caused you such distress at your last school. We could at least try to keep it to ourselves, couldn’t we? It’s your life, but why does anyone else have to know anyway?” She was standing in our new kitchen surrounded by unpacked boxes, leaning over the breakfast counter on the opposite side from where I was sitting and eating a sandwich: my incredible “Welcome to California” meals were all pretty much like this before we unpacked enough to do some real grocery shopping. One box was open; there were glasses with random colors swirled on them sitting near the sink. “Your timing is perfect, Mom, to ask that question, as it happens.” “What do you mean?” I shook my head. “Breathe deeply, Mom. You’ll know.” She took a deep breath and suddenly screwed up her nose. “Oh.” I nodded. “Right. And that will happen no matter what. And happen and happen and happen. So they’ll know, all right, Mom. But this time, they’ll know on my terms.” Mr. Benson leaves me with a big, friendly blonde woman. The placard on her desk says her name is Mrs. Girard. She explains how my schedule will work, where I need to go to get books, and some other things. She tells me that if it had been the start of the term there would have been an orientation meeting for new students, but as that was last week I’ll need to start the day with my counselor. “Are there that many of us?” I ask with a smile. “You’d be surprised,” she says. “We always seem to have our share.” She’s laughing so easily with me that I almost hope she doesn’t scan too far down the schedule to see what I know will be there. But of course she does. The look on her face twists into a register of surprise, then almost immediately covers it back up. “I’m seeing here that you have some...medical issues? Maybe you’ll also need to know where the nurse’s office is?” My smile doesn’t fade; I hold it steady. Here goes. “That would be very nice, Mrs. Girard. I am in fact completely incontinent, and I’m in need of a diaper change right now. Could you show me the way?” I watch her eyes as I say that: she’s stunned, to be sure. She’s never heard a high school kid––or anyone, probably––acknowledge her incontinence or her diaper wearing so boldly and publicly before. Well, get used to it, Sister, because I aim to change all of that. I tried the “I’m ashamed so I hide it” route at my last school, but they found out anyway and it was terrible. “Carly?” Daria taps me with her pencil and I turn around at my desk, hoping Mrs. Garcia won’t notice. Not that it matters; we’re the two best students in her class. “What?” She glances downward, in the direction of my chair. At first I have no clue what she means. Then I do. I can feel the wetness on my outer thighs and along my lower back: places it isn’t supposed to be. Shit! Daria’s a good friend, but she’s staring at me, looking for some explanation for something I have no explanation for. Suddenly I feel something running down my leg: I’m still wetting! And I know instinctively what is happening below me: it’s running down my pants leg and, since I don’t feel it in my sock, that means it’s ending up–– “Did you just wet yourself?” Tricia’s voice, behind me and to the right. She has a great view under my desk, and she really doesn’t like me. I see her pull out her phone, keeping it under her desk so the teacher won’t see. I’m done for. I don’t need anything weird to get me; I’m going to do a great job doing myself in. Not this time. I’m calling the shots. And as embarrassing as it is, I’m in diapers and I intend to freaking own it. No one can use against me what I openly admit to. I honestly don’t know how this is going to work out, but heck: it’s worth a try. And if anything else...any other problems...have followed me here...well at least the diapers won’t be a distraction this time. If that had been the case in Elmdale, maybe Marissa would still be alive.

The day started out like any other, Dean and Sam were looking over some information on a case, when Cas popped in out of nowhere, and smiled. He walked over to Dean, and sat down beside him on the couch. "Hello, Dean. I have a question.... do you think I would make a good father? Because, I think you would make a very cute baby." Cas says, as he pushes Dean down onto his back, and starts undressing him. "Cas! What are you doing?!" Dean asks, covering himself, as Cas takes off his underwear. Cas digs around in his bag, and pulls out a diaper, wipes and baby powder. He smiles as he lifts Dean's legs, and slides the diaper under him, adding powder, before pulling the front over his privates and taping it on. "Cas! I'm not a baby!" Dean yells. Then, he dresses Dean in a soft, baby blue onesie with crotch snaps, and large booties, and clips a pacifier to his collar. "There we go, my baby's all dressed. Aww.....he's so cute." Cas cooes, as he pulls Dean into his arms, cuddling him. Dean growls, his face turning bright red.