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    • Made using Grok AI. New parts posted every Monday. Trapped In Babyland: Part One Part One: Strangers in Pastel  Raven—because screw anyone who called her Molly—stared at the approaching figures, her green eyes narrowing into slits. Five women, all decked out in those ridiculous poofy gowns that looked like they'd been stolen from a discount fairy tale store, waddled closer with that weird crinkling sound echoing their steps. Each one wore a glittering tiara perched on perfectly coiffed hair, their faces painted with wide-eyed innocence that bordered on creepy. The lead one, with golden curls cascading down her pink dress, clutched the oversized diaper like it was a peace offering.  "Oh, hello there!" the curly-haired one chirped, her voice like tinkling bells on steroids. "I'm Princess Liora. You must be so lost, poor thing. What's your name?"  Raven crossed her arms over her band tee, her leather jacket creaking slightly. "Raven," she snapped, her short fuse already flickering. No way was she giving her real name to these freaks; it sounded too... normal.  The others clustered around, their expressions lighting up with curiosity. A brunette in a yellow gown tilted her head. "Raven? Like the bird? I'm Princess Mira. Your clothes are so... strange! All black and torn. Are you from some faraway shadow realm or something?"  Next to her, a redhead in green fluff giggled. "I'm Princess Sienna. And look at those boots! They're so heavy and spiky. Don't they hurt your feet? In Pamperton—that's our lovely town over there—we have the softest slippers for skipping around the cobblestone paths. Everyone's always playing games and having nap times in the big nurseries!"  Raven glanced toward the distant buildings, noting the name. Pamperton. Of course it was something that lame. Her mind raced—how to get info without playing along? But the questions kept coming, now mixed with chatter about the town.  A silver-haired one in blue, Princess Thalía, leaned in closer, eyeing the tattoos on Raven's arms. "Ooh, what are those drawings on your skin? The bird and the vines—they're so dark and twisty! Do they wash off? And that necklace... it's all pointy! Doesn't it poke you? You wouldn't see anything like that in Pamperton; everything's soft and colorful, with the castle watching over us all."  The last one, with auburn waves in a lavender dress—Princess Vesper—nodded eagerly, her eyes dropping lower. She pointed at Raven's hips, where her ripped jeans rode low enough to show a glimpse of black fabric. "And what's that under your pants? It looks like a diaper, but so thin and dark. What kind is it? We all wear the fluffy white ones the Queen provides—they're perfect for our endless playdays in the town square, where we sing songs and share bottles under the Queen's kind rule."  Raven's face heated up, her temper spiking like a volcano. Panties mistaken for a diaper? These idiots had no clue about real clothes. "It's not a diaper, you pastel zombies! They're panties—underwear. You know, for adults who don't crap themselves?" She spat the words, her small frame tensing as if ready to fight, though she knew her threats were mostly bark. "And yeah, my stuff's black because pink makes me wanna puke. Now back off with the interrogation. Where the hell am I, anyway? And who's this Queen you're yapping about?"  But the princesses didn't back off; if anything, their confusion deepened, sparking a barrage of more questions focused on her "strange diaper." Liora tilted her head, holding up her own offering—a thick, white diaper with pastel star patterns and extra padding that crinkled loudly in her hands. "Panties? But... how do they absorb anything? Ours are so much better for accidents during tea parties! See, this one's got magic fluff that never leaks."  Mira chimed in, her yellow gown swishing as she pulled out a different diaper from a hidden pocket in her skirt— this one even bulkier, with frilly edges and a soft pink tint, designed for "extra comfort during naptime." "Yeah, does your thin one even have tapes? How does it stay on without help? In Pamperton, the Queen makes sure we all have the coziest ones for our daily romps in the playgrounds."  Sienna giggled again, waving her hands animatedly. "And why is it black? Diapers should be bright and happy! Don't yours get soggy? Ours change colors when they're full—it's like a game!"  Thalía nodded vigorously, her silver hair bouncing. "Exactly! If it's not a diaper, then what does it do? Does it sing lullabies like some of the special ones from the castle?"  Vesper leaned in even closer, squinting at the exposed edge of fabric. "It must be a diaper, though—maybe a skinny one for travel? But how do you change it without powder? We have the best powders in town; they smell like candy!"  Raven's patience was fraying thread by thread, but she grudgingly explained again, simplifying it like she was talking to toddlers—which, in a way, she was. "Look, panties aren't for... absorbing. They're just fabric. No padding, no magic, no nothing. Adults wear them because we control ourselves. No accidents, no changes. Got it?"  The princesses blinked in unison, processing this alien concept. Slowly, dawning realization spread across their faces. Liora's eyes widened. "Oh... so you're not wearing a diaper at all? That's... different."  Mira clutched her frilly diaper tighter. "But if you're thinking of going into Pamperton, you have to wear one. Queen's orders! Everyone must—it's the rule for staying safe and happy in town."  Sienna nodded solemnly. "Yeah, the guards at the gates check. No diaper, no entry. The Queen says it's for our own good, to keep everything playful and carefree."  Thalía and Vesper murmured agreements, their earlier curiosity shifting to concern. "You could borrow one of ours," Vesper offered. "We wouldn't want you getting in trouble with the Queen!"  Raven's boredom hit peak levels amid the relentless probing, now laced with these warnings. These airheads had finally gotten it, but their "helpful" advice only made her more determined. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll figure it out myself." She scanned the horizon, plotting her next move. Pamperton loomed invitingly in the distance, with its castle ruled by some mysterious Queen—probably the key to this mess. If she could slip away from these frilly pests, maybe she could infiltrate the town and find a way back home. But first, she'd have to ditch the diaper brigade.
    • Hey what’s up everyone just seeing if there’s anyone out there making friends and more. 
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