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    • I know I’m not the only one. Keep it up, looking forward to more!
    • Thank you. At least some think I made up for it. I appreciate the fact that my efforts have not been in vain. I put a lot of effort into both stories, but this one lives on.  As I get back to travelling I will be adding chapters into Sally’s new growth. A new chapter coming up soon.
    • Sorry this response took me so long… tried to post last night, but couldn't access the site. And now I'm uncertain on the timeline… does Isadora know who the right people are yet? I know I've hinted a few times and then written a full explanation, but I don't recall where in the timeline that is. Not entirely sure, so I can't really answer this without risking spoilers. I do love that trope  Hope I'm not becoming too predictable. There's still plenty of tricks in my bag.   95. Skill Check Isadora read carefully through the text on her laptop screen, trying to remember how it had sounded in person. But she couldn’t recall any of it. She could clearly remember how warm and friendly Dr Renalt’s voice had sounded, and how obvious and intuitively right his words had seemed, but not anything he had actually said. Now that she was looking over the same words as harsh lines of black text, they seemed more clinical, more calculated. It was like there was an extra layer of separation keeping her from getting lost in her emotional responses, and that made her see the whole conversation in a new light. Or, more accurately, the whole hypnosis session. She read along line by line as the psychiatrist praised her for being able to count so far, and told her what a good girl she was. He asked if she could imagine being a good little baby, treated kindly by all the grown-ups around her. And then he asked her if that was a feeling she would like. Of course, there was nobody who could say ‘no’ to that. And when she tried to look through an analytical lens at the text in front of her, Isadora saw that Renault wasn’t really telling her anything; he was asking her questions with obvious answers, leading her to make the right deductions for herself. Looking over the conversations now, Isadora couldn’t see a single moment where she could imagine disagreeing with Rennie’s suggestions. Everything he said seemed to flow naturally from what had come before; an obvious continuation. But somehow he got from how she would like to be praised, to how happy she was being a baby for her Daddy. The logic was flawed, surely, but the gaps must be hidden between the lines somewhere. The kind of subtle wordplay that many politicians excelled at, presenting the facts in a way which made some desired answer a foregone conclusion. Despite herself, Isadora was very much impressed by Rennie’s skill. When she had agreed that she wanted to be good, Rennie had moved on to asking more questions. He didn’t tell her to feel anything, he just said he wanted to know what she really wanted. He asked her to imagine Baby Stella lying there, safe in her crib, and he asked if that was a situation she could have liked. Isadora nodded slowly, and then realised that she might already have slipped up when it came to that part of the hypnosis. Rennie had asked her to imagine being Baby Stella, while she was already doing her best to play the role of Stella. So maybe she’d been focusing on imagining how Stella would feel, rather than her own emotions. Did that mean that she would have been more receptive to hypnotic programming, if she imagined Stella as someone who was already curious about these topics? Had she sabotaged herself by deciding that Stella would be the one representing them, mounting a defense against Dr Rennie’s insidious persuasion techniques? Next, he asked her to imagine that Baby Stella was talking in her sleep. She was just a baby, he said, who didn’t yet know all the nuances of grown-up thought. She didn’t need to think about her reputation or what was expected of her; she could just answer honestly, with what she really felt. Baby Stella could tell the truth, even if Estelle sometimes lied to herself about the depths of her desires. Setting two minds against each other seemed an ingenious trick, and as she read the transcript back now Isadora was slowly becoming sure that the girl in the Pink Room had been answering based on her imaginary Stella persona. But apparently that didn’t make a difference; the consent she gave still made it easier for the hypnotist to plant suggestions in her mind. He asked her if she could imagine being a toddler, and if she could imagine being a baby. He asked which one she liked most. Stella hadn’t been sure, but Dr Rennie said that was all okay. Then he’d asked more specific questions. He asked her to imagine trying to read a book, and struggling to make out the letters. And then he asked her to imagine a baby looking at a page and only seeing the pictures, so caught up in the bright colours and shapes that she barely noticed there were words there as well. She could visualise both of those scenes, and then he asked which one she would prefer. It was almost disturbing how many times Stella had preferred to imagine herself as a perfect baby for her Daddy, with no control at all. Maybe that was the way Isadora had imagined her, eager to please her husband even if she did a good job of hiding it. Or maybe it was the way Dr Rennie was so good at describing the situation, making it sound so warm, and soft, and comforting. Like it was a way to escape the harsh realities of adult life for a while, and she was showing her strength by admitting that she wanted those things. He phrased every question in a way that made it easy to say yes, and when she did Dr Rennie would always respond by offering a way to make that fantasy come true. Some of the language was manipulative, she was sure. Some of it led her thoughts down a path she was sure she wouldn’t otherwise have taken. But the more of those transcripts Isadora read, the more she noticed that Dr Rennie stuck very strictly to a script. He always asked her first. He always tried to describe a situation in the best possible light, and then asked if she wanted to try it. He never told her what she should feel, or what she should do. He was always asking permission, and on the rare occasions where Isadora had thought Stella wouldn’t actually approve, when she actually shook her head, his response was always to reassure her that it was okay to know what she wanted. He would tell her that she was very clever for knowing what she wanted, and he would say that he was proud of her for being able to tell the truth. And then he would drop that particular detail, never returning to the subject. When she had first read over Rennie’s description of how safe and protected Stella would feel when she her diaper and needed a grown-up to change her, Isadora had wondered if the drugs in her system were making her agreeable or something; if she’d zoned out and started answering ‘yes’ to every question. But then he asked her to imagine a baby’s instinct to put things in her mouth and taste them, and the Isadora in the recording had said ‘no’. Dr Rennie had accepted that and moved on, never going beyond what she said she was okay with. Isadora had read through another session or two before she understood that decision. She could remember how hard it had been to find toys which were big enough to help her feel like a small child between them; and she knew how expensive they were. Everything in her secret toy box, back at home, was a precious unique treasure with a swarm of stories attending to it. And she could imagine that Stella’s toy chest had the same level of attachment. She knew that gnawing on toys was something babies tended to do, but it was something that neither Isadora nor Stella had any desire for; and so she had said so. On the other hand, wetting herself was something she had thought she would never be willing to accept. But before she met Dr Rennie, Isadora had already been through the experience more than once thanks to the muscle relaxants they had given her. So she knew that there was no real physical discomfort from the act, and she knew that so long as someone was treating her like a baby, being changed would be proof of how much they cared for her. It was a strange feeling, but somehow wholesome as well. She would need support from a grown up but she would have it; like diving from a high wire when she knew the strength of the safety net below. Or letting herself fall so that a coworker could catch her, in some teambuilding exercise. Losing control was a way to convince herself on a deep, emotional level that she didn’t always have to be strong. She still wasn’t entirely sure whether she had bought into all the reasons Dr Rennie gave, or whether she had played along because she’d been sure that Stella would do so. But she could see the logic, see the heart behind that chain of decisions. And she knew, from the transcripts in front of her, that she had clearly voiced her agreement. If she’d let herself get conditioned by that on the basis of Stella’s imaginary repressed desires, then it was her own fault. She knew now that Dr Rennie would never do anything without his subject saying she was comfortable. With that established, she resumed reading through more transcripts than she could easily remember. She wasn’t looking for techniques this time, but for instructions. She wanted to know what Rennie had told her to do, and to feel. There was a constant flow of comments praising her for imagining what he told her to think about; and to trust that he would only take her to places that she was comfortable with. So she tried to compile a list of what he had actually told her to do, and to feel. As far as she could tell, it matched up pretty closely with what Bernard had asked for, and with the little Lorenzo had been willing to tell her for that matter. She was supposed to feel naturally safe and childlike whenever she was dressed as a child, helping to make the ‘headspace’ feel more real. She should trust Brock whenever she was in child mode, and be eager to please her Daddy. And, though this suggestion was buried within a dozen other fantasies she’d been asked to imagine rather than phrased as one on its own, she thought that Dr Rennie had encouraged her to think of Brock as ‘Daddy’. All of that just felt so natural. It wasn’t like things they were making her do, but allowing her to shut off her worries and enjoy the things she wanted to feel. But there was one more suggestion, often repeated, that she felt was making a much larger difference to the way she thought. Unfortunately, it was also vague enough that she found it hard to work out what effects it was having. Dr Rennie had encouraged her to be honest with him. To tell him what she really wanted, rather than giving the answer she might have expected him to want. And over time, he had worked on enhancing that suggestion. He used it as a foundation to chip away at her inhibitions. When she was feeling like a child, he said, she shouldn’t think about what she  was supposed to do, or what was expected of her. Instead, she should focus on what would feel good in that moment. And that was easy to imagine, because she was sure that was how every baby behaved. So once she was feeling small, in a place and situation where she was allowed to act like a child, she would find it easier to do what she wanted. She would be able to ignore her inhibitions; act on her impulses without ever thinking about what other people might think, or what social implications those actions might have. Her adult knowledge of which things were appropriate would just fade away, allowing her to do whatever she really wanted deep down. Whatever Baby Stella wanted, Isadora corrected herself. She would be able to do whatever an imagined character might secretly want. But she couldn’t blame Dr Rennie for that. As far as he knew, he was opening up Stella’s mind and giving her the option to act on her own desires without worrying about what other people might think, or about the rules of society. He couldn’t know that Stella was just a person she had made up. Still, everything he had done seemed to be focused on giving her what she really wanted. What she would have asked for, if she didn’t feel obliged to lie to herself in the name of normalcy. Those suggestions had all been vague, though. They focused around doing what felt right, or imagining how a baby should act. They didn’t deal with doing a specific thing when she heard a certain word, which was the part of the training she had been aware of. And maybe it was the more obvious, explicit instructions that she would find it easier to resist. She could remember fighting the word ‘babygirl’ several times, after all, and maybe soon she would succeed. She had to believe she was getting a little better at holding it each time. If she wanted to understand how easy it would be to resist hypnosis in general, she needed to look at specific scenarios, for which she could assess how long she held out each time. The trigger phrase was direct and specific. But Dr Rennie spent much more time on ensuring that it was safe than on what it was supposed to do. He had asked her to imagine the nannies in the Pink Room – or ‘Caregivers’, he called them sometimes – telling her to do something. And he asked her to imagine times when she felt more childlike, and times when those feelings were diminished. And he asked her to imagine the realisation that Daddy wanted her to be a baby now. There were people she could trust. Bernard was always there, because he was her Daddy. And anyone else she wanted to be small around. And, as long as she was in the Pink Room, the staff there. Claudine, Rennie, Selma, and Lorenzo. Dr Rennie was very clear in explaining that those people could use the trigger phrase when she was in the nursery, because it was their job to look after her. But after she went home, it would only be Daddy who could turn her into a baby girl at will. Isadora felt a little tingle each time she read the word ‘babygirl’ in the transcripts. A reminder of just how good it would feel to let go, and how much she wanted it. But she knew that it wasn’t the right time now; she wasn’t in a comfortable place to be a baby, and Daddy wasn’t saying it to her. Any time Daddy called her a babygirl, she would wet herself. That was how the suggestion had started. She would let go of all her control, and let Baby Stella take over. She would go completely into her childish headspace, and do everything she wanted to do without any hesitation or inhibition. And that would only happen as long as it was Daddy saying the word, or one of the people she trusted within the pink room. He never told her exactly how to feel as a baby; he just asked her to go to the fantasy that Baby Stella wanted more than anything. And Isadora had apparently found that easy to imagine, even though reading through it was hard to imagine as she read through all of these transcripts. Out of sheer curiosity, she tapped the keys to listen to some of the audio. “Yes,” her voice on the recording sounded breathless and excited, eager to please. The thing that got to her most was how eager she seemed. This wasn’t the voice of a drugged-up little girl reciting the words they wanted to hear without taking them in, or an operative saying whatever was necessary to get the reaction she wanted. There was genuine enthusiasm in her voice, and as she listened Isadora knew that whatever she thought about Stella’s preferences, that personality had become real in a way. “I wanna be a –” She turned the recording off quickly, because it was too hard to hear the genuine enthusiasm dripping from every syllable. She didn’t want to know that she could even imagine feeling like that. She tapped another key to search for another conversation with Rennie, and read on in silence. The trigger changed a little, she noticed. She tried to remember if Lorenzo’s explanation had briefly touched on that, but in either case it was something she could take note of. The first few times Rennie had taught her how to act like a babygirl, and trained her to react to that word, he had simply told her to wet herself. And each time, she had fought against it for as long as she could. But from the things she said while she was fighting, the questions Rennie had asked her, it was clear that she thought Stella didn’t really want to win this fight. She wanted to feel helpless, like she had lost a battle, so that there would be no guilt in giving in. In later conversations, though, Rennie had asked her to imagine a toddler struggling to control her bladder. He’d talked about feeling the desperation growing, and her awareness that she would become a baby when she lost. And he’d asked her to imagine a toddler doing a potty dance before she lost control. And when she admitted that Stella enjoyed the fantasy, he had told her to live out that scenario each and every time Daddy called her “babygirl” in future, and for the staff at the Pink Room as well. Why had he changed? Was he adapting the scenario based on what seemed to be Stella’s preferences, or had Brock had some input into that? She thought she could remember Lorenzo mentioning it, perhaps, that her daddy had wanted her to try to fight. Maybe this was the full detail in what he had meant. Isadora shook her head. That might tell her something about the interactions between Rennie and Lorenzo, or something else about the way the Pink Room worked. But it clearly wasn’t going to tell her anything about how much hypnosis had influenced her thoughts. On the other hand, she had been unable to find anything at all that would make her trust Lorenzo more. Not unless his actions justified it. The childishness was all about ignoring her own learned inhibitions and living in the moment; doing the things Stella really wanted to do without worrying about being normal. And she didn’t think that would skew her judgement when it came to whether Lorenzo was a criminal. But was there something subtle? Something she could pick up on a subconscious level even if it wasn’t a direct instruction? Would the way Rennie talked about Lorenzo, or his tone as he compared Lorenzo to Daddy, have any influence on Isadora’s subconscious decision-making process? That was where Isadora was at a loss, because her own study of psychology didn’t have anything like that much depth. She wouldn’t know where to start in looking up those things, and she was sure that if she tried studying the subject, there was no way she could reach an answer in time to convince Brock that her judgement was sound, and then close the Arrencani family case, and then start investigating the ULF threats before the equinox. There just wasn’t enough time to learn those new things. Isadora sighed and closed her eyes, not wanting to see anything that would remind her of the things she didn’t know enough about. She was the monitor here; understanding the science behind their case was supposed to be her job, so that Brock could focus on spy work and violence. In a way, by not knowing enough psychology she was letting the team down. And even if she could enjoy feeling incapable at times, that was when she was taking a break from her responsibilities. Pretending to be a child was very different from actually being unable to help.
    • Hibiya giggles although she didn't intend to turn the search light on herself Kai must've noticed she ain't dressed normally under her white coat.  Hibiya: look it's not supposed to be about me, I was gonna ask you exactly whams bugging you lately. that said you seem to want to know what's up about me right?    Hibiya spoke in a sincere and calm tone. No ulterior motive, she was clearly honest. If Kai wanted the truth first, she would tell him.
    • Back zip jammies and diapers are such a wonderful thing
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