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I think what we are trying to say is:   Please do not continue.

Wow this is shaping up to be a great story can't wait for more

51. Tests of Confidence “Can you tell me to…” Tess mumbled. She was brave enough to actually say the words now. It had been two and a half weeks since Ffrances had originally done the hypnosis thing, although she’d done another session since then to reinforce it. And in that time, Tess had been asking for help half a dozen times. By now it had become kind of normal. She would come downstairs to pick up her flask from the fridge, and while she was there she would ask Gabby to tell her not to wet the bed. But it was different when Ffrances was there. Then she mumbled and stuttered, feeling weird. Like she was intruding on Gabby and her girlfriend. Today, she felt like she was crossing a new hurdle. Finding the courage within her to ask for the help she needed. She wondered if it might be easier if she explained why, so that Ffrances didn’t think she was overusing the suggestion. So she pushed herself, and once she started the words came tumbling out. She told them that she had a big test on Friday, and Friday had come from being a distant terror to the end of this week. And now it was tomorrow. Tess’s music class were each performing a solo piece, and their abilities here would count towards their final grade. She was always nervous before a big recital, and she knew that she would barely sleep tonight. That wouldn’t be good for her confidence, or for her breathing. And she didn’t want the day to be a disaster before she even got to school. Ffrances smiled, and nodded. “Of course we can. But which thing do you want us to say? You have to come out with it first.” Tess fought against her nerves for a few moments, and then sighed. It was embarrassing, but she had to say it. She was resigned. “It’s just because I think I won’t sleep otherwise,” she said. “I might wake up in the middle of the night, and not be able to get back to sleep. I know that midnight preparation before a test is really a bad idea, and I don’t want to be tempted into doing something… stupider than normal. So can you, please, tell me not to have an accident tonight?” “Of course we can, baby,” Ffrances said with a smile. “And we’re really proud of you for being mature enough to come and ask. There’s nothing wrong with saying it when you need it. Admitting your needs is a strength.” “You won’t have an accident tonight,” Gabby promised her, while she was still processing Ffrances’s reassurances. And as soon as she heard it, she knew that it was going to be true. “You’ll just have a good, deep sleep, and wake up refreshed in the morning.” “I’m sure I will,” she whispered, and then climbed the stairs to get ready for bed. * * * The test was relatively easy. For some reason Miss MacManus had wanted to see Tess play the violin, which wasn’t her first choice. But she was trying to have a reasonable skill with all of the common instruments, and she was sure that she played the piece almost perfectly. She would have a high mark for both technical skill, and her interpretation of the dots on the page. She was going to do well, and she knew it. She’d known it was a good day from the moment she woke up dry, but that was a secret she would never share with her friends. Not even her closest friend. So when Liz met her outside the auditorium filled with praises, she put her confidence down to a good horoscope. She didn’t believe in them, she said. But if she decided not to read it and things turned out well, then it had to have been a good one. “That doesn’t make sense!” an obnoxious blond girl popped up. “I mean–” “Just like horoscopes then,” Tess didn’t let her finish whatever the insult was going to be. “Buzz off, Mindy. Nobody asked for your opinion.” “But if your horoscope is right, that means that you would be–” “Who cares if it’s right? That’s the whole point. Oh, do you believe stars that were burning a hundred years ago can tell your future? Then I’ve got a bridge I’d like to sell you.” “That’s not what I–” “Do you still believe in the tooth fairy too?” Tess got in one more jab, and she knew that one would hit home. Mindy hated being treated like a child almost as much as Tess did. And the girl’s response was perfect: she turned and stomped away, knowing that there was nothing she could say without making it worse for herself. “That was…” Liz mumbled, looking after the younger girl. It was clear she didn’t quite know what to say. “Mindy Ciertowczki. Don’t know why she hates me so much, but any time she sees me, she has to find fault or try to cause trouble. I don’t like to be mean, but if I try to understand what she’s talking about, she just gets angrier and more obnoxious. She’s not interested in anything except scoring points in some imaginary contest.” “I know the type. Ciertowczki? I think I know her brother, but I’ve not run into her before. And congrats for not letting her turn it into a big deal, I guess. So, you were saying?” The rest of the day went pretty well. Maths homework was a lot less than fun, but Tess gave herself enough time to finish it before coming down to watch Live From Palmerston! with Gabby and Ffrances. They were very relaxed, and each of them gave a potted summary of their day. At some point, the conversation evolved into comparing their own experiences to a troupe of fictional comedians; trying to decide which of the group they would each be if they were all on the road to Palmerston, Oregon. Tess figured that using witty comebacks to thwart some kind of rival meant she had to be Sandy. Ffrances’s bureaucratic hassles with a system that seemed to have been designed without any human intervention were the kind of things that Klaus constantly had to deal with, and Gabby decided that she was going to be Lysette, if only because she had a perfect fiancée but was constantly finding excuse to complain about her car. “So who’s Donald, then?” Tess asked, and Gabby stopped short. None of them could answer that, and every attempt to pigeonhole somebody they knew into the role was greeted by a round of laughter. Almost as much as Donald’s appearance on the screen, in fact. This was a game they could play for hours, matching real people to fictional characters on the basis of their personality, worldview, or distinguishing features. And there was always one more joke to be made, right up to the point where Ffrances announced she was tired and needed to go right to bed. “I’ll come up with you,” Gabby said. “Are you okay with an early night, Tess? I noticed you’ve been yawning a little, so perhaps it would be good for all of us.” “I’m fine,” Tess shrugged. “It’s still pretty early. Mind if I stay up and watch something? I’ll be in bed before midnight, I just…” Then she bit her lip, trying to find the right words for what she wanted to say. She still didn’t know if they were going to laugh when they heard her real reason for being still awake. She knew that she had quickly drained a glass of Gabby’s favourite sweet wine, but when she’d picked it up to take another sip it had been full again. She’d not been paying attention, more focused on Donald’s antics with a pair of identical twin truckers and their respective bigamous nuns. But that meant that she had almost certainly drunk more than she usually did. And after her first experience with a hangover a couple of months before, she didn’t want to go through that again. So she planned to stay up a little longer, drink her flask from the fridge, and then go up to her room and straight to bed. She was aware that her routine with the flask was verging on superstition, and she didn’t want anyone to tell her that biology didn’t work like that. Even if it were true, it wouldn’t make her feel any better. And she didn’t want to make any noise, such as laughing at the things her friends decided to reshare, while Ffrances was trying to sleep, so it would be better if she stayed downstairs until bedtime, just this once. “You don’t need to come up on my account,” Ffrances said with a shrug. “I’m going straight to sleep anyways, and I’m not going to be dissuaded from that. Maybe you two should spend some quality time together, and you can joke about how I’m the little one today. Baby needs to have an early night.” “You sure, M–my love?” Gabby answered. “I think you know I’d never say something like that. I can’t even think anything bad about you. And it would probably distract you less if I’m–” “I’m sure. You just finished reading about Lamprey, didn’t you? I’m sure you two could compare notes on that. The whole Eighth Street Pilgrims arc reads completely differently depending whether you’ve already seen the Martyr in his other form.” “Yeah. I have to say I didn’t expect–” Gabby started, and realised that her girlfriend had already closed the lounge door behind her. “Dark Lamprey?” Tess asked, recalling one of the comics she had borrowed from Ffrances a month before. “I know what she means, that one was like nonstop action. But some of the ones since then, it’s like there’s a whole world of backstory that I didn’t realise.” “You should probably try reading it again,” Gabby answered. “I’ve only just finished that one, and… damn, she was right. We should talk about some of this stuff without waiting for her to remind us. But I don’t even know what you’ve read.” “Well, we’ve got enough to hold our attention. Just let me get another drink. And if Ffrances thinks she could get to sleep better without you, we’ll need to have something we can both talk about without feeling like we’re leaving her out.” And that’s exactly what they did. It was a little past midnight when the chat ended, and Tess was surprised to find out how much they’d had to say. Between them they’d already decided which of the terrible movies on the shelf they wanted to see next, as well as Tess deciding that she wanted to ask Ffrances to borrow one of the series that Gabby had mentioned. After everything that had happened since they started living together, it was that night that Tess started to feel like something had really changed. Gabby didn’t feel like a stranger anymore, but now she started to realise that a conversation with her didn’t feel like talking to family either. They were becoming more like friends. “I think it’s almost your bedtime, little one,” Gabby joked, and Tess started to chuckle before she realised that she could have taken offence at the comment. Because it wasn’t calling her a baby, she realised. Gabby was calling back to what Ffrances had said before, and a shared joke between the three of them just brought them all closer together. “Yeah,” she mumbled, and then all the nerves returned. She’d interrupted her own routine, by drinking her anti-hangover tea and then not going straight to bed. And by staying up later than usual, and by not keeping track of her wine consumption earlier in the evening. Everything Tess could think of said that it was unlikely to be a good night for sleeping soundly. “Listen, I know I only asked yesterday. But could you… like…” Gabby’s head tilted a little to one side, she was smiling, but she wasn’t going to make it easy. That was something else that would have bothered Tess, if she hadn’t known exactly why it mattered. She needed to be fully aware of what she was asking for, so that she didn’t fall into a habit of asking for help at any opportunity. She’d asked last night, and she already admitted that. So would Gabby think this was too much, and tell her the opposite of what she wanted? “Can you…” she mumbled. “Can you tell me… not to have an accident, please?” There was no option now but to try it and see if her trust would be rewarded.

50. My Epiphany I woke up with dreams of being a baby. I found that I was smiling, imagining just how much fun it could be. Becoming completely innocent, and having nothing in the world to worry about. Then my perspective shifted; I realised that I’d had the same dream a few times before. It was one of the fantasies that had kept me from going mad during many an interminable meeting. But the point of view was different; this time I was seeing myself as Tess, and it was more than a little disquieting. She would enjoy those experiences. She would love feeling like a child, no matter how much effort it took to get her there. But I wasn’t a natural little. My inner child had died long ago, beaten into submission by an older boy who had been so sure he knew what was best for me. Or how to get what he wanted. There was no way now that I could enjoy being a child again, and I didn’t want to. The thing that mattered to me was taking responsibility, and protecting Tess from going through what I had. The images in my mind showed her perfect existence, not mine. So why had my subconscious chosen to show me that perspective? I sat up sharply, and found that I was breathing quickly, shallowly. That dream had gotten to me more than I thought. Was Ffrances trying to push me into a headspace that I didn’t have? I glanced across at her, and I knew that wasn’t the case. She’d promised not to try regression again until I asked for it, and she was always fair and honest. There were dommes and mistresses out there who would think only of what they wanted, and would do whatever they thought was right even while denying it, but I was sure Ffrances would never act like that. She would only give someone what they had asked for, whether as friends or in a relationship. That was why it had been so hard to get her into a situation where she would help me to give Tess what the little needed. No, this wasn’t her doing. It was just a thought in my mind, I decided. It had been over a week now since Tess had the first posthypnotic suggestions created in her mind, and I’d spent so much of that time trying to guess how Tess felt, what her little age was, and how close she was to regressing. My mind was full of those considerations, so it was only natural I would be able to imagine it. It had shown up in my dreams because I had spent so long imagining how she must feel. That scene would be heaven for her, and it was only a nightmare for me because I wasn’t a little. I realised that Ffrances was saying something. She had taken my hand, still half asleep, and was mumbling words into her pillow. I could tell from the tone that they were comforting. “Don’t worry, love,” I muttered back, making an effort to steady my voice. “Just a bad dream. I was worrying about nothing.” “Nothing?” “Well, I was worrying about… about me, I suppose.” “Right. And you’re a long way from nothing. You’re my everything. Want to talk about it?” “No,” I said. But I knew that she wouldn’t want to imagine me hurting on the inside, so as she rolled over and looked up at me, I continued: “I imagined… I dreamed I was a little kid again. Like when we did that thing. Like I went back to being that little brat, and I had to watch Tess being… well, imagine the worst things that could happen to a little girl.” “You feel like it’s your responsibility to protect her?” “Yea– No, it’s not that. It’s that I want to protect her, and it’s what she wants more than anything. And that I feel so alive when I see her being just a little childish in the mornings. But I don’t want to see her go through what I did, not at her age. That’s why it’s different, I think. I said I couldn’t cope with being regressed, but it wasn’t really that. If you wanted to push me into that – just for a single session – I could probably cope. But Tess… I couldn’t bear even thinking that she’d end up a victim. That she wouldn’t have her littlespace, or wouldn’t be able to accept it. That’s the big thing, isn’t it? We both want exactly the same thing, so if it doesn’t happen it’s devastating. It’s not just missing out on something I want, it’s feeling that we’re both missing out on it. And if I was a teen again, or any age younger than that, I would be the kind of bully who couldn’t help her.” “How about if you didn’t need to help her? If you knew she was happy with changing roles?” I could see that she was trying to see a way around the problem. To gauge the shape of fantasies inside my head. But there was no point here; I already knew what my heaven would look like. “No. She might do it if she thought it would please me, but she wouldn’t enjoy it. We’ve talked about it enough to know that. She feels like she has to be a big girl, but it burns her up on the inside. And because I love giving people what they want, the people I care about… I’ll be the little one’s mommy. And I’ll love every second of it. The other side doesn’t appeal at all.” “How about if it were someone else? Like, if you were feeling childish, but you knew someone you could trust was still there to protect Tess?” I just shook my head again. That nightmare had seemed so real, it made it hard to think about anything even remotely connected. And I knew it wasn’t just about being helpless. It wasn’t just about wanting to protect Tess. It wasn’t just about the degradation. It was all of those things together; somewhere inside me, there was a heart with “Mommy” stamped all the way through. I was going to be a caregiver, and I was going to play with my little. It was one of the most rewarding things I could imagine, a dream I didn’t want anyone to take away from me. It was only confusing because there was another heart in there. The one that wanted the opposite; the side of me that needed Ffrances to dominate me, and to control me. A set of desires I couldn’t even explain. I told myself it was because I loved her so much, because I wanted to please her so much, and I knew that she was a natural dominant through and through. But I knew really that wasn’t the whole truth. It wasn’t something so easy to explain; it was just a part of me, something that I had to feel or I wouldn’t be me. Once those words formed in my mind, I knew what I had to say. I didn’t need to try justifying it anymore. I just said that was the way it was. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with being a baby; it just wasn’t something I was comfortable with. And Ffrances, of course, she was happy to accept that. When she smiled back, I knew that was what she’d been trying to tell me all along. I didn’t need to find excuses, or to explain why things were the way they were. Sometimes, an immutable piece at the core of your personality might be a certain need, and trying to justify it, or to find where it came from, would always be missing a piece of the bigger picture. Ffrances would always be a dominatrix, taking control of everything around her. It was one of the facets that made her unique. Tess would always be a little, needing to be cared for like the cute child she was inside. And then there was me, somewhere between the two. Craving to submit when I felt naughty, but also needing the control in a more wholesome relationship. Between us, all the bases were covered. And everything would turn out perfect in the end.

You should still be able to get hold of any toys you're nostalgic for, on the online secondhand market.  You have to be prepared for disappointment though, in a lot of cases. And plastic really doesn't age well.  Loads of toys I used to love wouldn't really rock my boat now, however much I remember them with fondness and memories of excitement. Toy cars and buses (Dinky, Matchbox etc).  Plasticine, Potty Putty (aka Silly Putty). I can still clearly remember the smell of both of those. Airfix and Revel plastic kits of cars, shops, planes. Back when the glue was real glue.  Scoop (the board game).  Painting by numbers. I could never paint creatively, but painting by numbers worked for me.  Riding a tricycle round the block. Fixing cardboard strips to the wheels so it made a racket as it moved. Whoops - I'm moving away from toys a bit here. And as for toy trains and construction sets, I'm back into them now in a fairly big way.