Rainbow Diapers

Chapter 38 Sometime in the hours of twilight, magic returned without fanfare or warning.  Since most everyone had gone the night without proper sleep, only getting fitful moments in the great hall, classes were cancelled and the student body were dismissed to sleep. They were told that the instability with magic had been due to a natural wellspring of power that surged out of control, like a solar flare, natural and unstoppable. Daniel didn’t believe that story, but he had other concerns.  “Just to be clear, this is just to take a look at things,” he began. “Right?”  “Professor Madrigal explained that, yes,” Doctor Cork agreed, offering a hand to help him up onto the exam table. “I am to identify that you are incontinent and suffering from a curse, that is all.”  He clambered onto the table, which had been covered with a layer of crinkling tissue paper that ripped as soon as he got on. Facing Cork, he wondered if he should pull his skirt down–he was acutely aware that by sitting up high, flashing his diaper at her, but she already knew it was there and his miniskirt wouldn’t do much even if he tugged it down as far as the material would stretch.  “Alright,” she said, trotting a circle around the exam table before coming to a stop. Though she was far taller than him as a centaur, the exam table was lifted and her size didn’t interfere with her examination. “Well, I can see that the incontinence is true.”  Daniel opened his mouth to ask, ‘What do you mean?’, but felt warmth spreading around his groin before the question could get out. He blushed and looked down, avoiding eye contact.  “How was the curse administered?” she asked.  “A potion,” he explained.  She nodded and reached forward, touching his belly through a layer of fabric. After a moment of concentration, she said, “I can feel it, woven into your aura. It would be a simple thing to undo, if you wish me to, but–” “Definitely not,” he interrupted.  “But, since you have expressed that you don’t wish to risk it, I won’t interfere.” She nodded. “It seems to be parasitic in nature.”  He nodded. “I think if I go a few weeks without casting spells, it will go away, but I can’t do that during the semester. I’ll go no-magic over the holidays.” Doctor Cork nodded and took her hand away. “Very well. I’ll let the dean know that what you reported was true, and make a note in your file.”  Daniel sat forward so he could hop down from the exam table. “That I’m cursed?”  “That you’re incontinent,” she replied, conjuring a notepad from thin air and marking it with a few scratched notes. “Daniel, you’ll recall that our school looks very harshly on harassment due to disability, even temporary disability.” “Assuming those rules are enforced,” Daniel shot back. “I’m not going to raise an issue about it.”  “Give this to the dean.” Doctor Cork shrugged and ripped off the page of the pad, passing the folded paper to him. “And, regardless of your reservations, I’ll make that note in your file.” Next came his trial. Madrigal seemed to be in a good mood when he entered her office, which already had him feeling optimistic. Rachel, on the other hand, also seemed to be in a good mood, waiting maliciously in the corner of the room.  Daniel hesitated in the doorway. “You already made up your mind, didn’t you?”  “Have a seat,” the dean replied, gesturing to the chair across from her.  Daniel reluctantly obeyed, sitting down with his body turned so he could keep Rachel in his peripheral vision. Leaning over, he passed the dean his note from Doctor Cork. She unfolded it, read it briefly, and set it aside before steepling her fingers and addressing Daniel.  “I have chosen not to expel you,” the dean explained. “But I can’t overlook your behavior. You put other students and faculty at risk by leaving during curfew, when you knew there was an emergency. The time we spent looking for you could have diverted us away from a true emergency.”  While he dreaded whatever Rachel had concocted, Daniel couldn’t really disagree with that statement. She wasn’t wrong, even if he thought the risk had been worth it. “I accept that. Just…please don’t take it out on my coven. If you were going to kick us off the Voxavin league because of me, it’s not their fault, I don’t want them to suffer.”  Madrigal shook her head. “Rachel had a suggestion for something more appropriate.”  “No more excuses, spark,” Rachel cut in. “You claimed you needed to change your diaper, that’s why you had to run–so I think the only fair thing is to take that excuse off the table for you.”  Daniel’s brow furrowed. “You’re…I don’t know what you’re implying.”  “Then I’ll stop implying it. You don’t get to change your diapers anymore.” Rachel’s gloating smirk was full of wicked mirth. “But don’t worry–I’ll take good care of you.”  Ice ran down Daniel’s spine as he remembered the humiliating diaper change Rachel had given him the night before. “What? But…this is a joke, right?”  “Rachel has made it very clear that she’s willing to make this time commitment, if it helps maintain discipline,” the dean explained.  “Mhmm,” Rachel chimed in. “Your butt is my responsibility now, Spark.” Daniel swallowed. He’d spent the past month avoiding any private situation with Rachel, and she’d just created an excuse to get him alone several times a day in a particularly vulnerable context. If she felt comfortable dunking him in his own diaper pail, she wouldn’t hesitate to make every change an ordeal. Racing for a solution, he said, “What if…what if I got someone else to change me?”  “Doctor Cork has too many responsibilities,” the dean said. Rachel laughed as she added, “Yeah, you’re not going to get anyone else to volunteer for diaper duty.”  “I mean…other students,” Daniel clarified. “I could at least ask, right?” Rachel began to shake her head, but the dean pursed her lips and nodded. “If you can find someone else willing to do that, I will allow it, but if you use that concession to sneak away again, you will be expelled immediately.” Daniel rubbed at the back of his neck. “Wow. No warning?”  The dean sat back and nodded. “This is your warning.” “Okay.” Daniel swallowed. He could always ask around and see if his friends would volunteer, and then quit the school if nobody wanted to help.  “Alright, Spark,” Rachel snapped, storming to the door. “We’re done taking up the dean’s time. Come on.” Daniel didn’t follow right away, first asking the dean, “Did you talk to her?”  Though she kept her face largely neutral, Madrigal nodded briefly and he caught a small smile. “We spoke. There was a lot to catch up on. That will be all, Mister Aster.”   Standing, Daniel followed Rachel out of the office, but as soon as they were in the hall his prefect turned to him. “Okay, let’s do this.”  “Do what?” he asked, confused.  “You didn’t think we were going to take this on faith, did you?” Looming over Daniel, she took out her ribbon wand and let the colorful ribbon unfurl to the ground. “Hands.”  Daniel didn’t obey immediately. “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to do magic. It’s kind of our whole thing here, magic school, y’know. Hands.”  When he didn’t immediately obey, she reached down and grabbed one of his wrists, pulling his hand up. Daniel yelped but didn’t even try and stop her.  With one hand raised, Rachel manhandled his other hand up, so that they were clasped together as though he were pleading with her. “You don’t get to say no to this,” she said. “Stop me, you’re expelled. Got it?”  He nodded meekly. “But what are you doing?” “Did I stutter, spark?” Whispering words of power, Rachel raised her wand and traced the ribbon over his hands, spiraling more and more quickly, until the ribbon twirled without touching his skin. He felt the surge of power conducted into his body and a tightness around one finger on each hand, and when the ribbon flew away in a final display of power, Daniel saw two dull pink rings, one on each of his hands. They weren’t tight or uncomfortable, but when he lowered his hands and fiddled with one, it wouldn’t slide free. “What the hell?”  “The staying spell’s pretty weak,” Rachel commented, “But if you break it, there’s no un-breaking it unless you’re confident you can remake my work exactly. Congratulations, you’re a jewelry guy now.”  “Okay…” Daniel looked down at his hands, at his paired rings. “But what do they do?”  “On their own, nothing, but that’s why we’re not done.” With a flick of her wrist, Rachel assaulted him with a second spell that came without warning. He stumbled back and felt the effect as a tingling on his skin, not impacting him directly, but impacting his clothing. His school uniform top grew at the waist, lengthening, winding under his skirt and between his legs. Three little pops sounded in sequence as the fabric met in the middle, and the magic ended.  Daniel couldn’t help himself, he lifted his skirt and looked down immediately, though the act set him up for more mockery from Rachel. His shirt wasn’t a shirt any longer, it was a onesie, with three dull pink snaps that sealed the fabric over his diaper.  “Awww, good boy,” Rachel sneered. “Showing off your diaper for me–but put your skirt down, I’m not the one who’s going to be changing you.”  His question came immediately. (What does the magic do?) But that would only earn him another quip from Rachel, and he was a warlock. He could figure it out. Extending his senses, he felt the connection between the rings and the buttons, a psychic repulsion like a pair of opposed magnets.  That told him quite a bit, but he tested it anyway. When he tried to reach for the snaps, his hands simply didn’t obey. The distance didn’t matter. If he raised a hand to his side then told it to reach for the snaps, the arm stayed outstretched, and if his fingers were lingering only a few inches away, he couldn’t cross that last tiny distance.  “Wow,” Rachel commented, watching him experiment. “You know, you could have just asked.”  “So the top is enchanted, and the rings,” he summarized.  “The little baby onesie is enchanted,” Rachel clarified. “And if I catch you wearing a grown-up top, you’re out of here.”  He felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. This pretty much aligned with what he’d already been told, but sealing it with magic meant he’d have few opportunities to search for loopholes or to simply cheat.  (You can always quit if it gets too bad, but this isn’t too bad yet,) he reminded himself.  Glancing side to side, Rachel said, “Oh, and one more thing.”  He raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”  She leaned in and whispered into his ear. “I know you told them about the curse. I know you tried to get me in trouble.”  He blanched, eyes darting to the door immediately next to them. “I–” She followed his gaze and rolled her eyes. “What, are you going to call for mommy? Go ahead.”  The ribbon wand prodded him in his belly, and he looked down. “What–” “Since they know you can’t help it anymore, it won’t be suspicious if you have accidents at inopportune times,” she explained. “Go on, spark. Try to stop me.”  He fumbled for the want in his pocket, but it was far too late. A lance of magic pulsed into him, and even with his arcane incontinence, he felt the cramp strike him as the magic took hold.  “I–” he stammered. “The fuck?”  “I think you must like this,” she commented, as he helplessly humiliated himself in front of her. “You do it often enough, and you haven’t even tried to undo the curse, so it must be because you just get off on making girls watch you humiliate yourself.”  There was no stopping the pressure that surged inside his bowels. His diaper crinkled as it expanded, but the snug onesie kept everything pressed tightly into his body, smearing the accident forward and back as he filled the diaper in front of Rachel. “Go on, find your girlfriend,” Rachel said, stepping away. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to help.”  Without any control over his potty training, Daniel’s accidents in the past couple months had all been modest, but Rachel’s magic was anything but. His diaper swelled and sagged, testing the limits of the onesie’s elastic, packed especially full, especially heavy. His nose wrinkled at the sudden smell that wafted up from beneath his skirt, and he had no words to try and regain his dignity in front of Rachel.  She beamed at him. “I’m happy to change you myself, if you’d prefer. We can go back to your room and I’ll make sure you get exactly the treatment you deserve.”  Daniel swallowed on a dry throat and tried to take shallow breaths, but his attempts at looking indignant only made Rachel laugh. Finally, even as the accident was still tapering off in his diaper, he turned on his heels and waddled away, legs spread wide to try and keep the mush from squelching and blowing out his diaper.  “I wonder who’s going to quit first,” Rachel called after him. “You seem to love your dirty diapers–but let’s see if your girlfriend feels the same.”    ... Took a bit of an unscheduled hiatus from writing, but I'm back, baby! If you would like to sponsor further writing, (and hopefully fewer unscheduled breaks,) support is always appreciated and comes with early access to future chapters! https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

Sooooo, my house guest has a migraine so guess who found time to do an unexpected burst of writing Friday after all!? I also got a chance to do some editing this weekend so earlier than expected, Chapter 4. Things are finally starting to look up for our Little runaway.   Chapter 4   Her second full night in the hospital was just slightly less unpleasant than the first. They had taken out her IV line and the sensors attached to her before the evening shift switch. It was more comfortable without all that but Arinae still struggled to sleep in anything beyond hour-long episodes.    There was too much activity and too much noise. The hum of the machines, the footfalls in the halls, the regular nurse check-ins that seemed to happen every time she’d actually started to doze off. She’d always been a light sleeper and it was only sheer exhaustion that caused her to briefly rest.   She heard crying and furious tantrums in other rooms from Littles insisting there had been a mistake. She heard a Code-L broadcast at one point. She had a feeling what that meant. She heard footsteps running past her room and then screaming and crying a few minutes later. Arinae rolled back over and curled into herself, knees against her chest and holding them tight.   Her body was still hurting badly but it was anxiety mostly that was keeping her awake tonight. Why did I agree to this? Why did I tell her I needed help?   It wasn’t a lie, no matter how guilty Arinae felt about it the days of her couch surfing and living in squats was over. In three more inches she’d lose her right to drive and hold entire categories of jobs. She never learned how to drive of course and she’d been fired from her last job a month before ending up here. It had been part time work at a grocery store and she talked back to her boss in what seemed increasingly like an early indication of the emotional volatility of Chrysalis. Still, even if she was unemployed already and didn’t know how to drive, it still made her bitter now she never could do either of those. The door was closed for good on any kind of independence.   At around just after midnight, Arinae woke up with a pressure in her abdomen. The medical diaper she wore was sopping wet but that wasn’t the biggest thing on her mind right now. There was absolutely no way this was about to happen. Wetting herself when she slept was one thing. It was gross and she felt disgusting and dirty when it happened but at least it was when she was asleep so she didn’t have to feel herself doing it. She was going to hold fast to her daytime continence as long as she could but she knew nighttime was probably already gone for good. She had to just mourn that and move on. This though? Absolutely not.   At least now she wouldn’t have to wait to call for a nurse. They had been helpful in getting her to the bathroom today when she pressed the call button. It took them a few minutes to come but Arinae had figured out she had at least a few minutes between first feeling the urge to get the toilet. She had no idea how much time she had for this though so urgency was of the essence.   Arinae scooted down the bed and past the rails. Every inch caused a dull ache in the muscles that had been so long neglected and only preserved through nano stimulation of the tissue. With every inch she winced as she wiggled her way down near the foot of the bed. She swung her legs down and felt the cold linoleum on the balls of her feet and was grateful that, for now, they weren’t dangling.   Arinae placed weight on her feet and stood up. The ache transformed as the familiar pain surged through her calves up through her thighs. Last time she used the toilet, she’d been able to walk supervised without holding on to anyone. The first step lit her left calf muscle on fire, the second step the right. Arinae started to sway and tried to steady herself.    Every step was agony. Arinae gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain, wobbling uneasily with eyes pooling with tears. One step, then another, then another. It was less than ten feet to the bathroom but it might as well have been ten blocks. Arinae was at most three steps from the threshold. She lifted her right leg. Almost there, come on girl, you can do it, you can-. Arinae felt a spasm run down her left leg and suddenly the ground was coming up at her quickly.    She just managed to brace her fall with forearms and elbows to avoid smashing her face into the linoleum floor. As soon as her body impacted, Arinae felt herself push out a loathsome mass into the hospital diaper. Arinae tasted blood in her mouth and she screamed. Arinae cried loud, wailing sobs that flecked crimson on the floor. Tears of disgust and self loathing and loss and pain all coming out in shrieking, wrenching sobs. It’s not fair! I was so close.   There was a commotion as one of the nighttime nurses came in and found her on the floor before calling for help. Arinae felt a pair of large hands cup under her arm pits and get her back to her feet. Gravity pulled her diaper away from her, leaving a sticky, vile mess on her backside as the mass plopped into the seat of the diaper.   “No! Stop, don’t touch me! I just needed the bathroom!” Arinae sobbed, her mouth tasted like copper. She felt the man’s arms swoop underneath her legs as she was lifted up into a princess carry and taken back to her bed. “PUT! ME! DOWN!” She screamed and kicked weakly but despite her fighting she effortlessly was taken a few steps to the bed before being deposited back onto the mattress. She wailed again as her bottom once again mushed against the mass that she’d expelled.   “Arinae, you need to calm down,” snapped at her. He was fairly young, just a little bit older than her with a light beard with dark, short cropped hair. There was no malice in his voice, but it was firm and final.   “No!” Arinae shouted back, “Let me clean myself off, I don’t want you! Where is Min, I want her instead!” She tried to scoot herself back up the bed and away from the nurse.   “She isn’t here tonight, and since you’re so fussy, I feel like I’m probably the best suited to this if you don’t want to do things the easy way.” “Fuck you!” She spat back at him, “I am not fussy!” He just smirked.   “OK, grumpy then. Whatever makes you feel more mature sitting there in a messy diaper.” Arinae didn’t have a comeback for that. She kicked her foot at him as hard as she could, which admittedly was still feebly. He smoothly grabbed her ankle on the attempt.    “Aw, thank you for giving me your foot. Now, I know you weren’t trying to kick Arinae. You’re still over 4’8 so that would be assault on a healthcare worker,” He squeezed her ankle firmly as she tried to pull her foot out of his grasp. “Now, I am going to ask you a very simple question,” his condescension abruptly ended, replaced by a cold harshness. “Did you try to kick me or did you give me your foot for a diaper change?”   Arinae huffed and glared daggers at him through tear filled eyes. The bastard had her. Little legal protections hadn’t fully kicked in yet. For now, she was still fully responsible for her actions. If she was honest, the outcome would be a fine she could never pay or staying in jail until she hit 4’8 and then a group home once she got out of here, pending an adoption she’d have no choice in. She flopped back on the bed, crossing her arms and looking away from the man.   “That’s what I thought.” The coldness in his voice diminished just ever so slightly. “Now, I know Littles throw tantrums, you can’t help it,” he said, untaping her diaper. Arinae refused to look at him and instead picked a spot on the wall just above the bedside chair where the paint had flecked off and kept her eyes fixed on it.   “But you need to understand, there are things that you can not do by yourself anymore. If you’d like a bedside toilet, you can ask for one. “Arinae’s legs went into the air and she flinched as the wipe touched her bottom. “Cold, huh?” Arinae wasn’t sure he expected a response. “What you can not do is get out of bed in the middle of the night. Look at your legs, Arinae, look at your elbows” she turned her eyes slightly to see her knees were scuffed up.    She also traced her tongue around her mouth and was relieved to find all of her teeth and only a busted lip. Thank Esvyra for small miracles. “You’ve made a lot of progress but you’re still too weak to walk on your own. You have to let others help you now.”   Arinae didn’t say a word as he finished cleaning her. The whole time she was holding back tears and looking at the little place on the wall where the paint was just starting to peel away. The nurse walked over to the counter and washed his hands before opening a drawer and bringing a tube of tissue repair gel back over to her.   “Here, let me take care of those.” Arinae refused to look at him as he spread the viscous blue liquid on her knees and elbows, “open mouth please, say ‘ah’” Arinae rolled her eyes but followed along with the instructions. At least by staring at the wall she made him come to her. That was probably as close to a win as being uncooperative was going to get her.    He probed a finger into her mouth. Arinae felt an urge to bite him and extract some small revenge but she’d already been given some grace once and it was probably not wise to push it. The taste and texture of the gel were both disgusting but Arinae knew it should heal her wounds by morning no matter how noxious it was.   “There we go, in a few hours you’ll be good as new. I’ll also put in that order for a bedside toilet for you. We can’t have you hurting yourself again. Anything else I can get you?” Arinae huffed but refused to answer. “OK, have a good night then and don’t get out of bed without help again.” She only looked away from the wall when he turned out the lights and left her all alone. She slept poorly for the rest of the night.   Arinae woke up on her second morning in Harborview to find that her thumb had migrated to her mouth in the night. The plucked the pruned digit from her mouth with revulsion as soon as she was aware of it. Arinae felt ashamed of herself. It had technically been four months that she’d lost recovering from the CDRD but to her it was only a few nights ago that she’d been taking the autobus across town to watch a basement show. She’d fallen so fast and she stared at her wrinkled thumb like it had personally chosen to betray her.   The day began with another parade of doctors and specialists and fortunately there were no comments made about her experience last night. They did bring her bedside toilet in as promised and her mouth, knees, and elbows were as good as new from the nanogel. The treatment plan today was getting her back walking with support. Her muscles were weak rather than atrophied so the hope was once she got started, she could progress exponentially. The time table for release was still approximately one week.   That time frame hung over her like a sword and compounded the anxiety she felt as visiting hours approached. As much as she hated the idea of having a guardian and eventually a caregiver. She really only had one shot to convince someone who’d been a random hookup to take a chance on her so she didn’t end up in a group facility and being bounced around from guardian to guardian by RECESS when each one inevitably didn’t work out.   You’re going to mess this up, Arinae thought to herself. She’s not going to want you. Still, this was her only shot at any sort of agency over her own future. She had to try. What if she was just a chaser? What if she really doesn’t respect who you are? Self doubt coiled and knotted tightly around her tummy. What if you’re just a fetish? A thing to her? She felt sick as the hours ticked by. What if she’s like mom? What if she’s like dad?   Arinae was startled awake at 10:21 by a buzz to her smart band. She lifted up her arm, there was less pain than yesterday, and took a look at the message:   Front Desk: Visitor for ARINAE EYFRING. To accept a visitor, please type Y or Yes, to decline type N or No. To request a nurse, type HELP.    She reached down and prodded the front of her diaper. Wet again, but not too bad. She had hoped she’d have been able to stay awake this morning but her sleep had been so chaotic since she got here. Drifting off at inopportune times was easier than it was to sleep at night. Arinae was stuck with the unenviable choice of having to decide to either meet the person she was pinning any hope of self agency on in wet underwear or delay the visit for a change.    There wasn’t really a good option so she typed ‘Y’ and pressed send. She wasn’t too wet after all. It could wait, best to get this over with while she still had her nerve. It was only a few more minutes before Arinae heard a knock at the door.   “Come in,” Arinae said. The hoarseness in her voice had worked itself out. Strong antiinflammatories and using her voice since waking up gradually whittled away at her laryngitis. She’d thought her pitch was higher last night but wasn’t sure given the fit she’d been having. It was only after calling out that she realized how small and childish her voice sounded. She couldn’t remember if this is what she sounded like before puberty but it wouldn’t surprise her if it was.    She’d have killed for a higher voice naturally at one point but it just triggered dysphoria now. Just another sign that she was moving further and further away from being the woman she wanted to be. The door slowly opened and a half-familiar face peaked into the door. Devrielle’s face lit up into a smile.    She was pretty but older than Arinae remembered. Probably on the other side of 30. She’d come to visit in a burgundy blouse and dark slacks with a large, expensive purse. Her wavy hair cascaded down to her shoulders and bangles on her wrist glinted in the harsh fluorescent light. Arinae wanted to feel attraction, longing, lust even but there was nothing, nothing save for an unexplainable pull she felt towards her former one night stand.   “Hey,” Devrielle said.   “Hey, Arinae said. Both were silent for a bit, awkward tension lingering between them. Devrielle closed the door gently behind her.   “May I sit?” She gestured to the chair on the right side of Arinae’s bed. Arinae just nodded. Devrielle moved slowly, like she was creeping up on some easily frightened animal. With each step Arinae felt the strange mental tug towards her. “Well, good to see you again.”   “You too.” The feeling was surreal. Like she’d known Devrielle for years instead of just hours. Like she had been Arinae’s best friend, or even closer than that. But they weren’t and she hadn’t been. Was it just desperation? Needing this to go right? Arinae had no idea but she knew she’d never felt this magnetism towards anyone else.   “I’m glad you’re OK. You told me just enough to be worried for you.” She had a faint accent but it made her speech almost lyrical. “How are you feeling?” What sort of question was that even. Her body still ached and everything was so uncertain that thinking about the future filled her with existential dread.   “I’m fine,” Arinae lied. Devrielle’s brow furrowed momentarily.   “Given the circumstances, huh?” Devrielle said. The corner of Arinae’s mouth turned up in what could vaguely be called a grin.   “Yeah, given the circumstances I guess.” At least she hadn’t died. Given the CDRD she was lucky to be alive. That probably counted as fine all things considered. Devrielle’s face was all kindness and empathy and Arinae felt drawn to her. She wanted that kindness, that empathy as much as she didn’t trust it. She’d lived four years on her own, surviving and taking care of herself. The feelings made her uneasy. They were intoxicating but confusing.   “”That’s good,” she said, “my Bayla, when she went through this, she was a mess. We got through it in time but the first year was tough. She was older when it all started. She also had some late detection too.” “Who’s Bayla?” Arinae asked. There was a rising fear in her that she already knew the answer. Devrielle smiled, her teeth were impeccably straight and perfectly white. She seemed like she was glowing when she smiled.   “She was my best friend. My roommate in college, before her classification. She’s my Little now.” Arinae’s heart sank. Her plan was dead in the water. If Devrielle already had a Little, there really wasn’t any hope for her. She’d never heard of anyone having more than one. She assumed there either was a law against or if there wasn’t that even one Little was so much work no one wanted a second.   I’m an idiot. I never should have messaged her back. I never should have got my hopes up.   “You remind me a lot of her, actually,” Devrielle continued. “She's so smart,” Devrielle was practically beeming, “she’ll talk your ears off about everything from theater to psychology to cartoons. She’s…” Devrielle paused, there was just such a look of love and pride on her face and Arinae felt a pang of grief, every moment of loving reflection for Devrielle was another second for Arinae to beat herself up, “Bayla is the best thing that ever happened to me.”   Arinae was completely despondent but did her best to hold it together. It was a stupid plan anyway and she felt stupid for even thinking it could ever work. You thought someone wanted you? Your friends won't even let you stay with them for more than a few months? Why would a stranger want you when they don’t even want you around?   “Hey, what’s the matter?” Devrielle asked, the look of parental bliss turning to one of genuine concern. She cursed herself for not doing a good enough job at hiding her sadness.    “It’s nothing,” Arinae shrugged, her voice actually trembling as she said the words. Devrielle gave her compassionate smile.   “It doesn’t sound like it’s nothing,” she probed. Arinae averted her eyes.   “I just-” her trembling voice caught again, “I-” she couldn’t finish. She knew if she said another word she’d start to cry and if she cried she’d need to explain her feelings and be humiliated and rejected and left alone. I’m an idiot.   “May I?” Devrielle asked, holding her arms up towards Arinae, the regressed girl only shrugged. Devrielle came closer and wrapped her arms around Arinae. Tears flowed easily and Arinae gripped Devrielle’s blouse and buried her head into the woman’s chest, just like she had months ago. The scene replayed in her head again. Alone together in the hotel room, being held while she cried.   “I don’t think anyone’s hugged you in a while, have they?” Arinae just nodded her head, Devrielle’s blouse felt so soft on her face. The affection made her plan falling apart feel all the worse.    “You sweet girl…” Devrielle said, giving her hair a stroke before pulling back. “Last time I saw you this was pink. Strawberry blonde suits you. Still has that cute wave though, Bayla’s looks sort of like that too. Have you seen yourself yet? I know you haven’t had much time alone?”   “I’m-” she sniffed again, “I’m afraid to look.”   ““You shouldn’t be.” Devrielle said “You’re very cute.” Arinae blushed.   “Stop it, no I’m not.” Arinae sulked.   “I’m serious.” Arinae doubted she’d be cute but Devrielle’s tone was absolutely sincere. There was no trace of mockery in her voice. “You should take a look when you have a moment.”    “Maybe” Arinae said shakily, “I mean, I’m going to have to get used to it. Shouldn’t get too attached though, not like I’m going to look like this for long.”   “I don’t know about that. Little’s don’t pass for children. No one is going to see your face and think you’re some toddler once it’s all said and done. Do you want to take a look?” Devrielle fished into her bag and held out her phone for Arinae.   “OK, yeah. Might as well. I can’t hide from this forever I guess” Arinae relented as curiosity got the better of dread this time. You’re going to look like a boy. Arinae couldn’t shake the thought as she activated the front facing camera. Her mouth went slack for just a second before she closed it again, biting her lip to keep her emotion at bay.   “I’m-” she started breathing heavily, a smile gradually spreading across her face. “I’m a girl. I don’t look like a boy, I'm a girl!” It was her first moment of genuine happiness since she woke up. The tears she felt were good tears. She still had her oval shaped face but her jaw line had softened, the blue undertone from her facial hair was gone, and there was a little bit more baby fat in her cheeks but she looked like herself.  “Of course you look like a girl,” Devrielle reassured her, “You are a girl, Arinae. You were always cute. I’m not surprised you're cute now.”   Arinae explored her face with her right hand, holding the phone in her left, watching herself as she touched her jaw and her cheeks and her nose. Her hand felt around her nose, searching for something she could no longer find.    “It’s fixed…” she traced the prominent, curved bridge of her nose and flashed back to the night she’d left home, “It’s fixed,” she repeated, her giddiness only growing into laughter. “Fuck you dad,” it came out high pitched and giggly. “Fuck you so hard!”   Devrille gave her a look that seemed to be equal parts concern for what Arinae’s joy implied and disapproving of Little's use of profanity. She held out her hand for her phone back and Arinae hesitantly handed it back.   “You-” It was the first time Arinae uncertainty in Devrielle’s voice. “You said you needed help. I offered my help to you in that letter that you didn’t read. What do you need, whatever you need so you don’t have to go to them again.”   “I-” this time it was Arinae’s turn to hesitate. “Nothing, I mean,” she sighed, “I just thought, and it was stupid but I just, I don’t, I don’t know. I don’t know what I need help with. Just this,” Arinae gestured with her arms, “this everything.”   “I think I may have an idea what you need help with,” Devrielle said, knowingly. “You’re alone, you’ve been alone for a long time. Everything right now just looks uncertain and I think I know why you replied to me.” Arinae braced herself for the inevitable ‘but’. This was it, rejection. I know you need someone but that someone can’t be me.    Arinae’s heart broke. Before Devrielle had just been a means to an end. Arinae’s plan had been cynical and just a way to avoid going home at first. Now that she saw what she couldn’t have, it hurt. What’s worse is she felt guilty for ever putting Devrielle in this position in the first place. She’s happy with her Little. She just wanted to make sure I was OK and I read into it and I shouldn’t have.   “Do you want me to say why I think you replied to me after all these months?”   “You do it,” Arinae said, feeling totally defeated. Serves me right for trying to manipulate her. For running away and only speaking up when I needed her.   “I wish you’d read my letter Arinae. You wouldn’t be so scared right now if you had.” Devrielle said, her voice sweet with sympathy, musical with kindness. “You need a guardian, don’t you?” Arinae closed her eyes and nodded, she mouthed ‘yes’ but no words came out while she waited for the emotional blow to land.    “I’m sorry,” Arinae whimpered, “I shouldn’t have replied, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. If I’d known you had a Little already I wouldn’t-   “Shushhhhh,” Devrielle whispered, “Sweet girl. When I met you, I felt an instant connection. Like I’d been waiting for someone my whole life and into the bar dances this cute trans girl with a septum piercing in ripped up jeans and a vest covered in patches. You were too young to be my type but still, for some reason I brought you back to the hotel with me.” Arinae could see that Devrielle’s eyes were becoming misty. “When I took you to the hotel and you just cried on me I felt so bad for you, I felt so much anger for the people who’d hurt you so badly. When I didn’t hear from you after that night, I worried for months that you were OK. It took you not replying to my messages for me to give a name to what I felt.”   “Only the Circle themselves know why I got a sitter for Bayla that night and decided to go out to a show like I did. It’s been two years since I went to see live music, but they brought me to Vilma’s that night for a reason, I know that they did. Arinae,” she heard Devrielle’s voice crack, “Do you want to come home with me?”

I am interested in finding others located in Johnson County, to meet and get to know.  Searching for a future caretaker or mommy.  I am a DL and wear 24/7.

ROZHANITSY. by Alec Leamus. Six women. Six abductions. Each unique in their style and completely baffling. Danielle Simmons, Helen Croush, Beatrice Dorner, Rachel Bidman, Camille Douglas, and Kelly Frank all taken for a period of several weeks and then returned. All unwilling or unable to speak of their abduction except to say that they had nothing to report. It was odd. None of the women knew each other and their only similarity seemed to be the fact that they were attractive and successful. Each worked in a key upper management position or owned their own company. Each was in good standing with the community and possessed an impressive financial portfolio. Money was not a motive. None of the women were coerced or threatened for payment and no ransom notes were ever sent. The women were not abused sexually. A few, under the pressing of the local authorities, even consented to a medical exam. There were no drug traces or marks. It was as if each of the women took an unwanted, sudden vacation. The only key difference seems to materialize in their behavior. The six women now seemed calm and quiet in direct contrast to their normal aggressive persona. Threatened with harassment the police eventually dropped their investigation. One by one the women stopped talking. A few women quit their jobs and moved away. However, local authorities feared the abductions were only the beginning. The perpetrator would escalate. This could manifest into a myriad of intense scenarios; all of which would translate into police failure. So, the police continued their investigation and concentrated exclusively on the evidence. Personal invitations to the victims; the calling card of the abductor. Helen Croush received a small, unmarked envelope. Mysteriously it appeared on her desk. No one knew how it had been delivered. Inside the envelope was an invitation to a private spa complete with complimentary massage and facial. This was not unusual. Many of the women due to their charity donations often received unsolicited offers. There was a telephone number to book your time and schedule a limousine pickup. In bold letters printed across the top of the invitation the words "Baby yourself" appeared. Witnesses remember seeing Helen step into a black limousine parked in the circle driveway. That was all. The driver opened the door, but no one remembered height, build or the slightest trait concerning his description. He had purposely parked adjacent to the stone columns to avoid the surveillance cameras. That was the last time anyone saw Helen until a patrol cruiser picked her up naked on the outskirts of town. The number on the invitation was a dummy cell phone number piggy backed on another account. That account was now dead. The address of the spa was an abandoned warehouse owned by the city. Crime investigators concluded the warehouse was not the site of the abduction. The limousine had been stolen and returned to the lot from which it had been borrowed. Unfortunately, due to the slow follow up any latent evidence was inconclusive. Still the crime lab poked and prodded through the limousine but found nothing. The invitation was printed on common stock and manufactured locally. The ink was from a Hewlett Packard desk-jet, probably a 9800. No hair, no fiber, no prints, nothing. He had been incredibly careful. Rachel Bidman received a two-night getaway at a nearby Bed and Breakfast. Her invitation offered her to "Relax". Beatrice Dorner received a dinner cruise with complimentary limousine transportation. Her message read "Time to sail away". However, to the investigators Danielle Simmons' invitation seemed to offer the most promise. She received six months free membership to a trendy new gym for her recent charity donations. She arrived, changed into her gym clothes, and vanished. The police were grateful for the break and felt that the kidnapper was close to capture; but the lead yielded nothing. All the employees were clean, and it became apparent that they were dealing with someone from the outside. The only lead was the description of an unknown maintenance employee. Frustrated the police listened to the conflicting descriptions of the mystery man. All the women turned up nude. Some materialized at their offices and others on empty roads. Unfortunately, none of the women seemed to have any knowledge of their experience. The only clear recollection they shared was useless. They all insisted they had never seen their abductor nor heard his real voice. When he did speak it was always altered and modulated. Only one incident evoked a raised eyebrow from the detectives. Officer Sharon Hanson was present during the Kelly Frank's session. Currently the police did not know the extent of the abductions and were leaning toward a more plausible scenario such as a jealous boyfriend or colleague. Despite the insistent questions Kelly Frank remained calm. She continued to stonewall. It was obvious that she remembered something but was not telling. Frustrated the detective in charge suggested a break. Kelly Frank's deadpan expression never wavered. Her beautiful features framed by her thick brown hair remained still. At twenty-eight she held a corporate position of immense responsibility. Confrontation was no stranger. To bond with Kelly Officer Hanson went to her purse to find some gum. Normally her purse would had been stored in her locker, but she was scheduled for court and did not want to trek all the way back downstairs to retrieve it. Procedure dictated otherwise but they were only taking a statement and not interrogating. Sharon moved a few items in her purse and lifted out her hairbrush. Kelly Frank's eyes transfixed on the wooden item and began to cry. It was assumed that the tremendous strain of her ordeal had taken its toll. She was released to be questioned later. No one connected the two events. When Camille Douglas was discovered on an access road nude and sobbing at three o'clock in the morning; the local authorities contacted the FBI. The escalation of violence theory persisted. The police were desperate. At the FBI, the case was assigned, reassigned, reassessed then reassigned. It was the dictate of bureaucracy. Special Agent Dana Scully brushed back the red strands of her hair and closed the case file. She reached for a travel requisition form. This was not a desk investigation. It required personal attention. It was exactly the kind of case that Agent Mulder would have relished. However, once again, in their combined efforts to conclude a case they had broken protocol and procedure. Now they were off the X-files separated and forbidden contact. Frankly, she was pleased as she clicked confidently down the halls of the Hoover building unaccompanied. Too long she had existed in Mulder's shadow. She missed him but lately felt superfluous as she filled in the spare pieces of their investigations. Her assignment on the X-files was challenging but she longed to take the lead and follow her own instincts. Their investigations into the paranormal had garnered them a dubious reputation, which is why Assistant Director Skinner had assigned her this particular case. "I know this seems like an X-file Agent Scully, but I think the locals are just seeking attention. The Chief of Police is a bit of a grandstander. I'd like our profile there to be low key. I don't want another media blowout. Just go up there and poke around and point them in the right direction. You'll be taking lead on this, but I want you to stay in the background.  You will be working with a Detective Tyler. I've been assured that they will give all the manpower needed. It's your case." Skinner rattled. Skinner leaned back and eased his large frame into the black leather chair. He adjusted the rolled sleeves of his crisp white shirt. Scully knew the signs. Skinner was busy and obviously bothered by the intrusion of this new case. Her reply was brief. "Sir, I don't think this is an X-file, but it does lean to the strange. I've reviewed the available evidence and worked up a profile. It's all in there. I do think the local detectives are correct that the kidnapper will eventually escalate to violence." "You ever seen anything like this?" "No sir. Victims of kidnapping are resistant but not to this degree. There is Helsinki syndrome, but I don't think that applies here." "Well, I don't mean to sound sexist Agent Scully, but a woman's perspective may be useful on this." "I agree sir." Agent Scully unceremoniously entered the Portland Police Central Precinct on Second Avenue. Cleared by the Desk Officer she made her way upstairs to the detectives. Scully had been in dozens of police stations. They melded together in a stereotype of thrift store desks and antiquated metal chairs punctuated by flickering florescent lamps. Scully never anticipated the reception of local law enforcement. Their attitude was often fickle, and she was aware of first impressions. Scully wore her long coat, blue blouse, dark pants, and high heels. A few officers paused to watch the womanly vision of understated sophistication. The squad room resembled a precision dance recital as officers weaved past each other. The name plate near Scully read "Det. Tyler". She studied the family photo and replaced it. As she turned to scan the room a large, uniformed officer knocked her elbow. "Watch it red!" the woman officer spat. She shifted the stack of files in her meaty hands. "Sorry," Agent Scully uttered softly with her eyebrows sarcastically raised. "Excuse me?" Scully called. "Yes?" the large woman replied sharply. She wheeled and faced Agent Scully. The woman officer was very tall and blessed with a breast line that strained the seams of her uniform. Scully involuntarily inhaled. "Yes?" she asked again. "As you can see, we're a little busy. What?" "Do you know where I can find Detective Tyler?" "There," she pointed to the corner office. "Thank..." Scully answered to the woman's back. "Don't worry about Herrick," Detective Tyler interjected. "She just got passed over again. Trying to make Sergeant. She's smart but she has... well, attitude." Agent Scully smiled but it manifested more as a smirk than the friendly open smile she imagined. "Don't worry, she's fine, just overworked. You're Agent Scully, right? So, what do you need?" he asked. "I want to start with the evidence." "Okay. But there's something you should know before you start. Kelly Frank committed suicide this morning. There wasn't a note or anything, she just checked out. I'll get back to you with the details." "I know it's difficult but let's see if we can get the family to agree to an autopsy. It might help." Scully said. Hours later Agent Scully's vision began to blur. She pinched the bridge of her nose under her glasses. Detective Tyler popped his head into the interrogation room. "Coffee?" "No thank you." "Anything?" "No, not really. Little things. Look at this." Agent Scully slid the plastic evidence bags toward Tyler. "The words on the invitations. "Baby", "Pamper", "Surrender", "Relax", "Time. They're all in bold. There is an obvious theme here. I think he views these women a certain way. Think about what he's doing. He's offering these invitations to them. He doesn't force them. He wants them to come to him of their own free will," Scully stated flatly. "You think he knows these women?" "No. I don't think so but he's obviously choosing them well in advance based on his careful planning. He knew where to park when he picked up Helen Croush. The maintenance uniform at the gym. He knew that the air conditioning was broken. I think it's more likely that the victims represent a woman or several women from his past. And all of them share similar characteristics. They average in height and build. They are older but appear young and they are all highly successful in their field." "Something that's bugged me from the beginning. Why paper? Why send hard evidence to the victims. Why not e-mail? It's not untraceable but it's not as obvious." "I think he wants us to know how clever he is. He wants us to have these invitations," Scully added. "You think this guy wants to be caught?" "Eventually yes. When he's caught the scope of his work be exposed and recognized. "What work? What is he doing?" Tyler asked. "I don't know exactly." Detective Tyler arranged the bags on the table. "You should get some rest," he suggested. "I'd really like to interview a few of the women." "Okay. I don't know how much you'll get out of them. Who do you want to start with? "Danielle Simmons." "Why her?" Tyler questioned. "Because she's the only one that drove to her own abduction. All the other women were picked up." "That's interesting. I'll drive. I know where it is," Tyler said. Rejuvenated by the new information he energetically rolled off the desk. Scully admired his new enthusiastic form. The streetlights rolled rhythmically over the glass as they glided across the glistening pavement of rain swept Portland. Scully rarely relaxed during a case but allowed herself a moment of fantasy. She glanced sideways at Detective Tyler. He was the kind of man to which she was attracted. He was serious about the work but exhibited a playful side. The Miles Davis music that originally filled the car was a clear indication that he was not uptight. He turned it off and apologized for the blast of jazz music and grinned. She pondered how he would measure on a real X- file case. Mulder crowded her mind and Scully was grateful when Detective Tyler broke the silence. "So have you ever seen anything like this before?" "A few times but it usually turns out to be a hoax. This is different. What can you tell me about Danielle Simmons?" Scully asked. Detective Tyler did his best to recall the data. Danielle was a striking blonde woman in her early thirties. However, her youthful bone structure and slim physique cast her more in the range of her early twenties. An advantage she played to its full potential. She started a small software company with a partner five years ago. Their innovative advances in corporate data entry immediately expanded. A few years later Danielle Simmons exercised her option and bought out her partner. Ms. Simmons socialized very little except with shareholders and clients. She frequently attended charity events and contributed generous amounts. She was single and there seemed to be no recent relationships or even brief affairs. She did not drink, smoke nor was there any indication of drug use. She worked out regularly at a semiprivate gym. They slowly eased to a stop before an elegant two-story home. A small porch light illuminated the brick walkway. The house was white with green shutters and the Victorian trim evoked a sense of nostalgia. It reminded Scully of summers in Maine with her father. The pair darted across the lawn anxious to avoid the sprinkle of rain that had returned. "It's open," Scully pointed. "Hello? Federal Agent. Ms. Simmons? We just like to talk to you." "Portland Police, Detective Tyler. Your door was open." "I'll check upstairs," Scully said. Tyler nodded and moved into the kitchen. Upstairs Agent Scully noticed a light from the bedroom at the end of the hall. The boards creaked as she slowly entered. On the floor a young girl in braided pigtails hummed as she scrawled in a coloring book. Her thin legs splayed out from under her school uniform. She did not acknowledge the intruder. Scully adopted the soft tone she often reserved for children. "Hi. What are you coloring?" She bent down next to the girl. "Nothing. Just a horse," the young girl answered. "Do you know where your mother is?" "She's gone. She went to get food. Do you like pizza?" She twisted on her side and faced Scully. "Uh, yes. Do you?" She resumed coloring. "I like cheese pizza." A low cough emanated from the hall. Detective Tyler motioned with his head to Scully. In his hand she saw the framed photo he had taken from the hallway.

Hi I’m new here to Edmonton area I’m looking for woman only to either be diapered or be mommy to me and or vise versa anyway feel free to message me