Story and Art Forum

I had a defecating proctogram which is a MRI where the give you an enema of 3 tides of ultrasound jelly and then scan you pushing it out. My legs were on cushions and I was wearing just a hospital gown with a pad underneath me. I was then instructed to push the jelly out while getting an MRI. As I usually pee when I poop I peed while in the scanner along with popping about 1/3 of the jelly. You could actually see the pee coming out on the video. 

I think Gabby has an "expecting everyone else to play out her fantasies" issue at times 😛 Listening isn't her strong suit. Ffrances, on the other hand, is very good at spotting which way someone else's instincts lie; but is less willing to try pushing anyone.   109. Unexpected Confidante Nearly a week had passed since Ffrances agreed that Tess was mature enough to explore an unorthodox style of relationship; but she still hadn’t found the courage to bring it up with Spike. Somehow it seemed an even bigger thing to talk about when she could be almost certain it would go well. She told herself that he had actually asked if he could be her Daddy; he’d said it was something she wanted, and she knew that she was already starting to get comfortable doing those kinds of things to satisfy Gabby’s demands. She knew that Ffrances thought it was a safe way to explore her identity, and now she had a time to plan for when there was no chance of Gabby being in the house. So why was she still so nervous to bring it up? She promised herself that after school today, she would find the courage to tell him. She had to say it sooner or later, and some time soon would be better so that there was an opportunity to plan before Gabby’s days of intense work came around. The last class of the day was music, which was never hard, so she would have some time to calm down. After school might be a little more difficult; she would be stopping at the pharmacy to pick up some more diapers. And this time, she was planning to ask them if they had any other brands, because she had already found that her first batch of medical ones had a disturbing tendency to leak overnight. Maybe she’d just got a bad pack, but if it was possible she thought that she would have a little more confidence trying something different. A little worry on the way home. She didn’t expect it to be such a big deal. Now all she needed to do was relax, and enjoy Miss MacManus’s unique style of tuition. However, she didn’t even manage to get to the music department before something distracted her from her plans. This time, the interruption came from Mindy Ciertowczki. Not sneering insults, or marching down the corridor with a retinue of hangers-on competing for her attention. In fact, Tess thought it might have been the first time she’d actually seen Mindy on her own. The girl was sitting in a little alcove; a place where the corridor had once branched, but subsequent renovations had turned this little corridor into a dead end. There were a couple of seats in the alcove, like there were in similar nooks outside the offices of senior staff. Some of those places might be where students would wait to receive discipline over some issue; but the offices here were only concerned with administrative trivia, and there was no reason for anyone to be there except the secretaries who had the keys. The chairs were probably old ones deemed too threadbare to remain opposite the principal’s room, if Tess was any judge, and they were half hidden by the protruding end of a bank of lockers. Which made it even stranger to see Mindy sitting there. There was no space for anyone to sit comfortably, and kids had been walking past for years without sitting there. So why was there someone sitting there, staring in silence at the wall? “Are you okay?” Tess felt like she had to ask. She didn’t really like Mindy, they weren’t friends, and she knew that she’d managed to upset the younger girl a few times recently. But in her mind, that just made her feel responsible. If Mindy’s mental health had taken a turn for the worse when she finally admitted that the world didn’t revolve around her, then Tess felt like she was at least partly responsible. Mindy wouldn’t have cared; she would happily walk past someone in crisis, or stop to laugh at someone else’s misfortune. She was typical of the bullies who had mocked Tess for her small size when she first moved to Raybridge; but that was irrelevant. Because Tess wasn’t that kind of person, and she didn’t want to walk past someone who looked upset regardless of who it was. “Who cares?” Mindy snapped, and Tess wondered if she had been crying. Her head was turned away, and her bangs hung down over the side of her face to hide her from sight. But she certainly didn’t sound like she was okay. “A human being. You seem upset, and I want to know if I can help. None of your friends are here right now, but sitting on your own thinking about it only makes it worse. If you’ve got a problem, you should talk to someone. Maybe it helps to know that somebody cares. Maybe once you say it out loud, you’ll realise that it doesn’t feel as big as it did echoing back and forth in your head. Maybe I can even offer suggestions. But I don’t like to see anyone suffering alone.” She looked up and down the corridor. The last of their classmates had already hurried to their lessons. It was quiet now, and there was nobody else going to walk past if Tess left. “Why would you talk to me? You hate me. Looking for a chance to laugh at me again?” “No. You tried to make me feel bad, and I was mad about that. But I hated the words, never you. It doesn’t look like you’re calling me a baby now, and I’ve learned not to let it bother me.” “I wish it was that easy,” Mindy snapped. “Look, I don’t want you laughing at me. Or pitying me. I’m not hiding in a corner crying or something, right? Everyone in the year respects me, they all want to be my friends. I’m not some charity case.” Tess didn’t say anything, but just listened. Mindy was still confrontational, but it felt like she was opening up a little more. And reframing herself into the queen bitch as well; the girl everybody loved. Even if it wasn’t real, it seemed like she was cheering herself up a bit. “Okay! I’m sitting on my own now. But not like a loser with no friends. I had to ditch them, right? Because it’s personal. There’s something I needed to say, and it doesn’t need an audience. You understand that much, right?” “You met someone here to talk,” Tess said, and then thought again. “Or you arranged to… no. You were waiting for someone to come past, so you could step out and say hi. Like casually bumping into him in the hallway. And then you can ask him to talk for a minute, step out into the courtyard. Feels so natural, and gives you a chance for a private conversation without having to come up and say you’re interested in someone. Right?” “Near enough. Sounds like you’ve got a lot of experience.” “I never had the nerve. But I know how it happens in romance novels. It’s always a chance meeting, but getting one of those in the real world needs a lot of effort. So… no luck today?” Tess’s mind was already racing, trying to work out what she could say next. She’d never really tried giving relationship advice, because she’d never even had a boyfriend before. She knew less than just about all of her friends, thanks to the constant cycle of moving home. But if someone had asked for tips in a situation like this, she would normally have suggested not giving up; hoping that things would go better next time. That wouldn’t be appropriate now, because there was a good chance Mindy was still thinking about Spike. She had such a possessive attitude towards him, such that anyone watching the way she talked about him could assume they were already together. That made the situation difficult, because Tess knew better than Mindy did that Spike would never be interested. And that wasn’t going to be an easy thing to explain. She was thinking about it so deeply that she almost didn’t pay attention when Mindy started speaking again. “I couldn’t do it,” she admitted, in a voice barely higher than a whisper. “Couldn’t ask him?” “Couldn’t even say hello. I just froze. And then there were other people there, laughing and joking. I figure everyone has friends, right, and I need to get on with them if there’s any chance of… but then I saw how close they were, laughing at the same moment. And when another girl put a hand on that person’s shoulder, it could be just a pat on the back but they looked so comfortable together, I could just see it as something more. So I kept sitting here, and they walked right past without even seeing me. I couldn’t believe it. Like, confidence is everything. Fake it til you make it. I know that so well, and I’ve got people eating out of my hand. And then the one time it actually matters I got scared. What happened? All the times with Spike, I never missed a beat. I had to be confident and attractive, even when I knew he’d pretend not to know what I was asking. But now…” “I think it’s because you have feelings for someone,” Tess answered. “You wanted Spike to be your boyfriend like a status symbol, because you know that would impress the people around you. Now… It sounds like you found someone you want with your heart, not your mind. You couldn’t bear to upset him, even if you don’t know why. So there’s always going to be that part of you that’s scared, terrified of saying the wrong thing.” “That’s right,” Mindy nodded slowly. “Sounds like you’ve been there.” “Yeah,” Tess thought about it again; and realised that it had taken more than a year between realising she had feelings for Spike and finding the courage to admit it. “It took me a very, very long time to get the courage to tell someone how I feel. Even though we were already friends, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be upset.” “I was looking for a friend,” Mindy said, and laughed briefly. “You were right, weren’t you? You told me I was only after Spike because that’s what everybody expects me to want. And I started doubting it. I wanted to ask someone who’s obviously, visibly happy in a relationship, not just making a show of it, how you know it’s real. I tried three times to find the nerve to ask what makes them so good together. And then I overheard… Well, a breakup. And you know, in any of those novels I read, that would be the sign that they’re both available now, that’s the time that rebound girl shows up and turns out to be the real love interest. But that’s not how it works in the real world, is it? I didn’t even think about what I wanted, I was just hoping they were both going to be okay, when I barely even knew them. And then the more time passed, the more I felt like… I don’t know. Before Christmas I was being a total bitch to them, now I apologised and already it feels like we’ve been friends forever. And the thought of losing that scares me. But then I wondered if that’s what it feels like when you’re falling for someone, instead of just wanting them. And since then I haven’t had the courage to say a word. And now I’m spilling my guts to the school baby, I started talking and there’s all these words coming out, even things I didn’t realise I knew.” “That’s what happens,” Tess said, forcing herself to overlook the baby jab. “Your heart isn’t good at letting you know what it wants. It’s confusing and vague. But talk to someone else, and maybe the truth comes out. That’s why good friends are always there to listen. And trust me, I know I’m not the expert, but if you tell him you’re all confused like this, and you’re scared of losing him as a friend, he’ll understand. Or he’s not the person you think he is, and you’re better off knowing that now.” “I wouldn’t have understood if somebody told me that. But then… I wouldn’t want to date me. I’m sure if I’d had a date with someone who didn’t see it as just a move in the popularity game, I’d have hurt them. So… well, damn. We’ve been underselling you calling you the baby, haven’t we? You’re worth listening to.” “Thanks,” Tess mumbled, not sure if she should be flattered or offended. “It’s like you got this maternal vibe, offering advice and being there to wipe away my tears. Not that I was crying! I mean, I could see you being the kind of big sister everybody wants. And you’ll be a great Mom someday. But you still look like a baby.” “I know,” Tess said, and almost laughed. After hating those words for so many years, she knew now that she really didn’t care. The people she cared about were the ones who knew her by her personality, not her looks. And there was no way those people would mistake her for a child. “Yeah, I know,” she said again. “Looks aren’t everything. If somebody really cares about you, they can see past all that. But right now, my maternal instincts are telling me that you should be in class, young lady. And so should I, for that matter. So cheer up, throw yourself into your studies, and know that you’ll get another chance. And you don’t need to set up cliche situations to talk to somebody who really wants you. Just chat, don’t stop yourself from sharing, and it might just happen.”

I think Andy and Paul will be great friends .  

Yes, Sally is beginning to do her own stuff. She is also getting a lot of attention. She is sheltered in Zurich, but in the US it's different. She has her own "champagne problems"! Thanks for the comments, they mean a lot.

The cacophony of skittering legs crept towards her, fire all around her, the sounds of people in pain stung the young witch’s ears as she crawled backwards. Cherise Vandervaal groaned, pushing her body up on her elbows just as the twisted visage of the creature descended on her. Half of its body of a lithe and lusty pale form that of an elvish maiden, torso naked and tangled, wild gray hair covering much of her torso, the other half the source of the skittering, the eight spindly legs of a spider making up the second half of the cruel parody of a centaur.   Its claws pointed toward Cherise, a voice both malicious and beautiful chittering at her, a mixture of elvish and hundreds of crawling, screaming spiders. It said, “No child can best me, come back when you are a more fitting morsel, when you have grown- again.” The sounds of its horrendous laughter filling void, waving its claws as the spell it weaved lit up the darkness the fire left behind in an eerie glow.   And Cherise woke up to the sounds of creaking wheels and the sense of dread and wrong, her body aching from the battle she fought several hours ago and the unease as the vicious magic wracked her insides.   The castle on the hill appeared through a shroud of fog through the window in the carriage, a great ancient behemoth of dark gray stone and looming towers overlooking the dark forest, its ramparts draped with tattered crimson flags with intricate symbols that glowed through the haze of mist and fog. A sight that once filled Cherise with excitement and thrill for the future, now seeing it through the windows of the rickety carriage that creaked over the dirt pathway towards the tall gates of cold iron separating the castle grounds and the forest made the young woman cringe in shame.   Onyxhorn Academy, the school for aspiring defenders of peace, where any who would stand against the forces of evil, a place that would safeguard young werewolves and warriors, vampires and vagabonds, warlocks and witches like Cherise, until she had graduated last year.   The last time Cherise had seen these venerated walls she had been on top of the world, the most powerful witch of her graduating class, ready to take on all comers, bold and brazen, brash enough to fight the toughest of opponents. And now she returned, tail tucked between her legs, all glory sucked out of her.   With a rusty squeak, the gates of Onyxhorn opened without the carriage stopping, a spell the founders had placed on the walls millennia ago detected the motivations of any who appeared at her gates and opened for those with pure intentions. For the carriage driver, to drop his cargo off, for Cherise, salvation and assistance.   In the distance, on the grounds, Cherise could see some students practicing, some casting spells, others using steel and claw, the 23 year old witch looked away, feeling a pang of envy, she tried to rub her thumb and middle finger together to feel that spark of mana that came so easily when she had first been discovering her abilities when she was 18, now she couldn’t even conjure a flicker. Face twisting in frustration, she noticed a trace of chubbiness on her cheeks.   A flutter of panic, her hands flew to her face, giving it a squeeze. Yesterday, her jawline was tight, features chiseled and sharp as if chiseled in stone, and now her face was round.   The curse is getting worse, dread creeping into Cherise.   The carriage pulled to a stop at the front doors to the castle, and the driver called out, “This is your stop!”   Swallowing her pride, calming her nerves, Cherise started to say, “Can I…” Her voice faltered as she found her words considerably more girlish than they had at the start of her journey back to Onyxhorn, gritting her teeth before continuing, “I need help...” She pitifully added, calling out through the thin slant in the wall.   “Help?” She heard the driver grunt as he got off his seat, the clopping of the horses as they stomped their hooves, ready to depart. The door to the carriage opened, and the man frowned, his wild, wirey white beard twisting as he gave Cherise a bewildered look. “When’d you get in that?”   With a deep of breath, Cherise forced herself not to curse at the man, looking down at herself strapped into a large booster seat, along with the clothes that she also hadn’t started the journey in, the black shortalls and long sleeved white with black striped shirt Cherise would have never been caught dead in. “No… I wasn’t.” About midway through the journey from the start of the journey to Onyxhorn, Cherise had stood to adjust herself, as the contents of her new clothes had decided to bunch itself up in rather embarrassing and uncomfortable ways, when she sat back down the spell that had been on course to completely debilitate her had decided that Cherise needed to be in a booster seat.   She avoided looking the man in the eyes, only to find her gaze drawing back towards her new outfit, trying to look anywhere else in the empty cabin in desperation, the driver asked, “If put yourself in that contraption, why can’t you get out yourself?”   “I didn’t put myself in it!” She whipped her head back towards the man and hissed. “It was-” She stopped herself from saying the ‘c-word’, knowing how cautious people were around curses, as if they were contagious, Cherise was well informed to know that simply wasn’t possible, but a simple carriage driver needn’t be bothered by that kind of knowledge. “It was a spell that was put on me. Can you please just- Press the button on that buckle there? I ca- It doesn’t budge…” Cherise felt her newly chubby cheeks going flush.   The driver’s eyebrows furled down, like fuzzy white caterpillars, “What kind of spell?”   “It was aaaa- Hex!”   “A hex, eh? And that wouldn’t be a curse?”   “Nope, completely different,” Cherise lied through her teeth.   “Fine,” The man grumbled, leaning into the cabin and squinting at Cherise’s crotch where the buckle was pressing into, gracious enough not to comment on how poofy the seat of her shortalls were. He fumbled with the buckle, Cherise’s shoulders tensed up as something particularly damp pressed into a very sensitive part of her, and she could swear the crinkle could be heard all across the courtyard, but the man was polite enough not to mention it.   In an instant, Cherise decided the uncertain, shaky feeling of standing up was because of sitting in the same spot for so long, and not because of anything the spell was doing to her, though she couldn’t help but notice her normally well toned legs not only layer of flab covering them as well underneath the newly formed striped stockings. As Cherise emerged from the carriage, she felt her vanity take another hit, warlocks and witches like her didn’t need to stay in great shape, many of her peers would just as easily teleport or ride a broom to wherever, Cherise had taken great pains to waking up early every day when she could to work out, and her hard work had been erased by that hag.   Cherise looked for anyone she recognized, failing that, anyone that would notice her, fortunately, save for the few students in the distance practicing, no one was around that she could see through the cover of fog. She blinked, her eyes feeling a little more sluggish and as fuzzy as the fog that covered the grounds.   She let a curse out under her breath. It wasn’t long after she had come to Onyxhorn Academy the first time, after she had learned the basics of her craft, Cherise had enchanted her eyes so she wouldn’t need glasses anymore, the curse was not only stopping her current attempts at magic, they were eroding her spells already cast. She considered the monsters she had put away in the confinement circles at local Guardian halls and shuddered at the thought of the havoc they would cause if Cherise’s magical binds suddenly vanished. Her own self-image be damned, she had to get this solved fast.   Wasting no time in waddling to the back of the carriage, pulling her bag out, trying not to notice her leather bag she had stowed back there was now made of cloth, and white with adorable pink hearts over. Now reading ‘Cherry’ in pink letters. It should have the sounds of metal scrapping together, or maybe the clink of potion bottles lightly bumping into each other, but those had been replaced by the sounds of rattling and crinkling.   Unzipping the bag, unwilling to look inside, Cherise felt around for the old glasses case she carried around in case of Silence spells or anti-magic fields, wincing as she felt the smooth plastic coating of the things she rather not think about, trying to ignore the smell of lavender that lingered in the air with the bag opened. “You gonna take your seat?” She heard the driver ask.   “Could you- I don’t know- Throw it out for me? Ahh! There it is,” Pulling out a hard case that she sighed at, her old glasses case covered in stickers, rainbows and kittens and children’s cartoons. There was a trace of nostalgia, she hadn’t seen a cartoon since she had discovered she was a witch, a little bit of her kind of wished she could watch an old Barbie movie like the ones she saw when she was small, uncertain if it was the spell talking or a bit of her that missed the days before she knew magic was real.   “Not sure about-”   “Just charge my account extra and do whatever with it!” Cherise snapped, flicking the case open and pulling the glasses out of it, hoping to see black instead pulling a soft pink framed pair and pushing it on her nose. The stagecoach grumbled again. Cherise walked around the carriage, pretending she couldn’t feel the wet feeling against her loins, pulling the strap of the bag over her shoulders, swishing her long, black hair over her other shoulder, and restraining herself not to cry out, “Pony!” When she saw the pair of skeletal horses pulling the stagecoach, rejecting the urge to run over and coo.   Behind Cherise, the carriage drove away, leaving her standing in front of the stone steps up towards the prestigious academy, remembering the first time she walked up these steps, a confused teenager, having just lost her mother and thrust into a world she hadn’t understood, yet, she still had her dignity, as she was reminded when her shoes lit up when she took the first step.   The sturdy double doors swung open for her, the heavy iron rings that took the place of handles making loud thuds, revealing the large hallway of the school to Cherise, almost immediately felt out of place. The students inside chatted while heading to their next class, some wearing robes with pointy hats, others in black leather armor with weapons slung at their back or belt, a few in more bestial forms, furry werewolves or medusai. No one took a look towards the doors that were always opening, people coming at all hours, until one witch pointed towards her, and the pale face of a vampire girl looked Cherise’s way, and then another face turned towards her, and another, there was silence and Cherise felt all the eyes on her.   Please, oh Maiden, don’t let anyone recognize me…   Her prayer went unanswered as she heard, “Is that Cherise Vandervaal?”   “It is…” Another answered, with more vicious whispers joining them.   Damn the Fiends! Why wouldn’t they know you? You saved this whole stupid Academy from destruction three times! Why would a pair of pink glasses keep them from recognizing you, who do you think you are, Clark Kent?! Looking down, Cherise walked down the halls where she was once a hero, once a villain, once a lonely, orphan girl with no friends, past the framed portraits of honored heroes, scholars, and teachers that once called themselves students, all memorialized as role models for the current student body, a place where Cherise had hoped to one day prove she belonged, stepping below their images covered in shame, sweat, and something worse.   All the way down the hall, up the stairs where she had her first kiss with the vampire Malfis Droca before he showed himself to be an amnesiac traitor, to the fourth floor, stopping at the spot where her friend Angelis Myr was thrown out the window by the dreaded Rodgers the Pirate who had managed to sneak in during the Glasphire tournament, looking around before revealing a secret passage behind a portrait that she had used when the whole school thought she was the reincarnated Fawn the Fiendblood prophesied to return and throw the world into the pits of Tartarus, now she was skulking through it so no one would see her waddle.   After a short period of trying to avoid detection, to Cherise’s dismay was in vain, she had arrived at her destination, in front of a door she would rather not be at, and knocked. The door, like so many others in the academy, opened all on its own, to the classroom of Cherise’s second most hated woman.   Professor Ingrid Caw stood in front of her desk, teaching a lesson Cherise had seen before, though at least she wasn’t using her students this time, Cherise still had the occasional nightmare where she had been the demonstration. With a statue like cat on the desk and a large iguana shaped lizard in her arms, with her song-like lilt, Ingrid announced to the classroom of distressed looking students, “The basilisk’s petrification may seem like an insurmountable condition, but there are two readily available options, basilisk dung is the base of the antidote, mixed with the vines of a newt-wither and you can free a stone companion in the matter of days, or if you’re magically inclined, a simple few words of ‘Shi N’mengaini’:” The cat glowed for a second, then tried to flee in panic, “There you have it! Now, it’s Mr. Whisker’s feeding time,” And she released the basilisk free who leapt towards the cat, scampering away. Cherise glared at Mr. Whiskers, she couldn’t stand that stupid lizard, for a moment caught in memories of her first class where she was the one sitting on that desk.   “Ohoho,” Cherise looked up to see the woman in black robes glaring at her behind her red glasses, her red hair tucked up in a bun kept in place by a serpentine pin, “Come on in dear,” Caw wagged a finger towards Cherise.   “Eh-hem- Could I possibly see you in your office?” Cherise managed to choke out.   “Nonsense! Its not often one of my favorite vic- students pops in for a visit,” She wagged her fingers again, and Cherise was compelled to walk forward, pulled towards the older witch. There was giggle among one of the dozens of students that started off a chain reaction. Cherise spun around, not sure if it was better that she didn’t know any of them, or if it was worse because she was standing in front of a bunch 18 year old witches and warlocks dressed like a goth toddler.   Professor Caw walked around Cherise, giving the padded rear of hers a big squeeze, grinning at her while she conducted her examination, “Oh my, someone really did a number on you, didn’t they?” Taking one of her long, red nails and lifting Cherise’s chin up, as if to see her face in a better light, though Cherise knew Caw just enjoyed manhandling whoever she could get her greasy mitts on. It took a momentous effort not to spit in the witch’s face, and it was the chant of she’s the only one who can help that made Cherise mind her manners.   Finally finished, Caw leaned back on the granite desk of hers, littered with scrolls, vials, and small apothecary bags, the sounds of a cat fleeing and a basilisk scurrying through a group of students who went from being amused by Cherise to distressed by the petrifying monster running over their shoes.   “Well, Cherise-”   There were quiet murmurs through the audience, ‘Wait, that Cherise?’, ‘That’s her?!’, ‘The girl who-’   Caw raised a hand, not looking away from Cherise, looking overly pleased, like her ‘popping in’ cursed was the best thing that had happened to her in 200 years. “Quiet!” Echoed through the hall and a hush settled in its wake. “Now, dear, why’d you come to Auntie Ingrid? Hmm?”   “Well,” Cherise collected herself, inhaling and exhaling before going on, knowing that the witch in front of her wanted, needed, it declared to the students, “You’re the renowned expert at curses and I need. Your. Help.” She felt dirty just uttering those words.   “Oh!” Caw theatrically looked towards the class, “But we don’t get along do we?” She made herself look and sound sad, a ruse Cherise knew too well, the only thing she felt was irritation and joy from other’s suffering. “No, I think you’d feel more comfortable if you got help from someone else.”   Cherise had battled greater fiends, terrible sorcerers, elder dracoliches, non linear beings, but forcing herself to say what she had to in front of Ingrid Caw was possibly her toughest challenge. Matching her volume, even if she hated how the maturity in her voice had been sapped away, Cherise made herself say, “But- Auntie Ingrid- You’re the only one who can help me. Please, please! Auntie, pwease?” Cherise let out a gasp and made herself shut up. That last word, that childish lisp wasn’t for dramatic effect.   Caw’s face lit up like Christmas morning. Cherise wasn’t the only one fighting to compose herself. “Oh!” Caw kept her lips thin and pressed together as much as she could, though the twitching at the corners were threatening to break as the witch kept herself from laughing. “I suppose I can help a local cele-bri-ty. Class is dismissed. Come with me Cherise- MR. WHISKERS!” She barked like a frothing cerebus, the basilisk came running back to his mistress jumping into her arms. “Come along, Cherise,” She continued in a saccharine tone, “Oh, and class, please don’t go around spreading any nasty rumors about Ms. Vaanderval, she’s under so much pressure already!”   Squirming, Cherise watched the students leave, several shooting her smirks and side eye glances, raising her anxiety. An itch was starting to spread where the slick damp cushioning pressed against her crotch, making the young witch wish for a change.   As the last of the students walked out, Caw, stroking her basilisk with a bit of calcified fur clinging to its mouth, mentioned off hand with glee, “Take that out of your mouth, you’ll ruin your teeth,” Flashing a toothy smile before walking away. Looking down, Cherise spat out her thumb, her mouth left wanting for oral fixation, trying to remember when exactly her hand had crept up to her mouth.   Swiftly following her former teacher, Cherise shuddered as she saw the tall Ingrid Caw looking up, and knew right away who she would be looking at. Cherise wasn’t a short girl by any means, the tall Ingrid Caw had always made her feel like the impetuous child Caw treated her like, her head only going so far as the older witch’s chest, very few at Onyxhorn Academy taller than her, the most notable exception standing in front of Caw’s door.   Any other day, Cherise would’ve been happy to see the Head Mistress of Onyxhorn, the half-giant Elesha Vile. Her large, kind face turned towards Cherise, masking the pity in those blue ponds she called eyes quickly but not quick enough for Cherise not to notice, her long white hair falling towards her midsection, covering much of the starry blue robes Cherise could’ve comfortably used as a comforter and bed-sheets. “Cherise,” The half-giant gave the witch a gentle smile, her tone as soft as she could muster, more than once Cherise had heard how deafening her bellows could be when Elesha wasn’t more mindful.   Elesha tried to keep her typical matronly upbeat positivity up as she addressed Cherise, “Ms. Vaanderval, it’s so- nice to see you again,” Her eyes shifting away from Cherise and her new wardrobe, mumbling under her breath, “Under the circumstances.” The difference between the size of Elesha and Cherise had never bothered her, only now that she resembled someone that was on her way to preschool did Cherise start to wonder how she looked to the half-giant when her head only reached her hips.   “Hewwo Miss Ewesha- Hmm!” Cherise stifled a gasp, fingers reaching towards her lips before they could humiliate her any more.   Looking down at her pupils, her blue eyes sorrowful, Elesha murmured, “A powerful curse. Poor child- But I am proud of you for putting aside your difference with Ingy-” She added, quick to put a positive spin on the situation.   Caw cleared her throat, Elesha corrected herself, “Professor Caw, I mean… In any case, you two go and see what you can do about the curse together, I happen to know the book we’ll need in the library, ‘The Complete Encyclopedic Volume of Niche Vexes’- Oh, dear, you can put your arms down, I’m not giving you uppies right this second.”   Cherise blinked, realizing her arms were pointed up towards Elesha. Caw snickered, catching herself just as Elesha gave her a look of disappointment. “Yes, I think we’ll find that I will be more than capable of handling this little issue on my own, thank you.” Caw said proudly as Cherise lowered her arms, wondering when she had started asking for uppies.   “Of course, I have the utmost faith in both of you, I’ll be by your office in just a little bit to come check on things, as soon as I find that tome.” Cherise breathed a sigh of relief, not only in having a shorter time alone with Caw, but also that Elesha was still looking out for her. A master of divination, Elesha always seemed to know exactly what to do and when to do it, always having Cherise’s back when things seemed dire, even when the whole world was against her, Cherise could always trust Elesha. “And change Cherise before anything else, Ingy, if you don’t she’s going to leak.” Before she turned to walk off, Cherise left mortified at the final comment, squeezing her legs together and feeling the cold squish between them, looking forward to that development.   “Thinks she knows everything,” Caw muttered under her breath, beginning to lead Cherise away.   “I do!” A voice boomed down the hallway.   Cherise’s legs started to ache and tire as they moved through the school. Her mouth opened, ready to whine and beg for a piggy back ride, the words dancing on the tip of her tongue, before shaking the thought away. She shuddered at the thought of asking Caw for a ride, asking herself why she even felt tired when it wasn’t that long ago she was running through these halls for both classes, excursions, and adventure, when the sight of her hair twisting itself into a childish braid on the sides of her head reminded her that her transformation wasn’t complete yet and made her speed up to keep of with the Professor.   Ingrid Caw’s office was just as it always had been, an air of noxious aroma permeated the dimly lit, dungeon-like space, dried herbs hanging from pots, corners filled with vibrant colored fungi, the pit Mr. Whiskers as a lair when not being used to make students afraid, a desk ahead of the bookshelves where Caw kept her private collection. More than once Cherise had to sneak in here to swipe something her stubborn Professor wouldn’t easily be parted with, between that and the times she had been in here to be chastised, she was well acquainted with the office.   “Well, go on,” Caw waved, turning towards her collection of spellbooks, “Get yourself changed and I’ll find a way to fix you. Do it quick! As much as the idea of you suffering from a well deserved rash appeals to me, I’d rather you stay clean just long enough for you to get out of my hair, then you can go roll around in your own filth for all I care.”   “Oh, ok,” Cherise fiddled with the buckle on her shortalls, the bag on her shoulder sliding down while she fidgeted until it hung on her elbow that she dropped in frustration on to the patterned rug on the stone floor. Uncertain whether it was her new sausage fingers losing dexterity or that the outfit was simply impossible for her to get out of on her own. She wrestled the buckle, resorting to trying to chew on it to get free, dropping to the floor, feeling the squish of her underwear cushioning her bottom.   Caw snarled, “By the Maiden, will you be quiet?! I am trying to concentrate!”   There was a pause in the witch’s thrashing, her brain computing what it just heard, and then the dam burst, Cherise began to sob, “B-but Auntie I can’t!” She raised her legs and slammed them against the floor as she bawled. “I can’t I can’t I can’t dowit!” Whining crept from the girl as she cried. Caw turned towards the witch is disgust, taking no joy in making her sob this time, the others were for sport, like the first day in class she had decided she didn’t like the witch, or the time she chastised Cherise for losing those two freshman in the Lost Woods, this time it was just pathetic and distracting.   Stomping towards the girl, Caw snapped, “If I change you will you stop that racket?!” The sobbing mellowed out but didn’t peter out completely. As Cherise settled down, her legs coming together folded up with her knees pointing towards the high ceiling of the dungeon, a trickle started creeping down the witch’s inner thigh from her shortalls. Caw caught on right away, screeching, “You blasted brat!”   “Huh? W-wha’ I do?” Cherise asked, oblivious to her accident seeping into her clothes and the rug beneath.   “Ugh!” Caw rolled her eyes, “There’s not even point in berating you. So irritating!” She said, manhandling the girl, easily removing the straps of the outfit, pulling it away showing the soaked onesie underneath, the snaps holding the long sleeved shirt together threatening to burst from the over saturated padding that poked through the edges.   With a groan of disgust, Caw pulled the snaps away, frowning at the intricate web like design of the diaper that lay below, “What kind of witch put the curse on you, did you say?”   Cherise blinked, she had lost focus on what was going on from the waist down, eyes glued to the shining necklace that hung from Professor Caw’s neck, a silver vial no bigger than a fingernail, she knew from past experience that the vial had a potent poison that could make a dragon fall, but at this moment she wanted nothing more than to put it in her mouth. “Huh? Ohh, dat mean wady! She wa’ umm doin’ bad, mean stuff to vili-vili- da boys and girls like turnin’ dem into doggies and kitties-”   “So you failed?” Caw concluded as she pulled Cherise’s bag towards herself, pulling out a diaper to change her into. “Hmmph! Pathetic.”   Shivering at the sudden burst of cold air hitting her nethers, Cherise continued, distracted, “Its ‘cause, I don’ know, da mean wady- Heehee dat tickles!” Cherise squirmed as a wet wipe was brushed between her red crotch in desperate need for that change. “an’ I sayeded stuff and she was like ‘You not weady for me, you justa big baby,’ or sometin’, I don’ know, it hard ‘member. She was’ scawy doe, she had like a pider for legs, an’ big mouthy fangs.”   “Hmmph! Sounds like a Drider to me, let’s see,” Caw raised Cherise’s onesie after taping her up, not bothering to put any ointment or powder on the girl, a small revenge for putting Caw into this situation and leaving her precious nephew. Seeing a large sigil on Cherise’s bloated belly, as she did so, Cherise’s breasts deflated and went into her chest, completing her look of overgrown toddler, “Hmm, I can’t say I really disagree with her though, you really are just a big baby. Drider magic shouldn’t be a problem for me, though, a simple matter for someone with a lick of sense,” She said, tickling the tummy of the girl, who’s sense of self was steadily getting obscured by the obliviousness of infantilized thoughts.   Outstretching her fingers and letting her magic flow into them while Cherise started to awe at the pretty colors swirling around the Professor’s fingertips, without any gentleness, Caw’s hand went down towards the girl’s belly the sigil was on top of, and with a sneer of confidence, reciting a few words, the intricate rune started to fade, before a surge of power made it glow brighter, a strong light emanating from it before the sigil jumped from Cherise’s body and up Caw’s hand. The Professor gasped at the pain from the burning sign moved, creeping up her arms leaving burned nerves as it made its path towards her shoulder, down her chest, Caw grasping at the pain wherever it traveled on her body.   “Shit!” She cursed, launching herself backwards, flailing, trying to get to the sigil before it reached its goal. Cherise watched with a mild interest as she sucked on her fingers as the teacher stood up, racing to her bookshelves to try and find some way of removing the curse that was afflicting her, gurgling as she saw Caw’s robes fold in, her heels momentarily visible before melding with the outfit, separating from the center and wrapping around her legs as they became black footie jammies. “Shit, shit, shit, sh-poopy poopy poopy!” The 237 year old witch swore to herself as she flung books off the shelf searching for anything that might staunch the flow of magic, the curse latching on to her in overdrive in retaliation.   Her backside ballooned outwards, and Caw’s hands stopped reaching for books and flew back towards the diaper that was appearing on her slender frame. “Oh, poopy!” She moaned right before filling the room with a fowl stench.   Ingy lowered herself to the floor, momentarily distracted by the discarded books around her, picking one up and staring at it before letting the intrusive thoughts win, and stuck some pages into her mouth. Her neat bun shifted, turning into a topknot and the rest of her hair thinning while the finishing touch of her outfit, her shining silver pendant turned to plastic and rubber, a pacifier that she would soon get a lot of use out of, the force of the retaliatory working full swing on her as her body rushed to meet the pace of the girl she had been placed in charge of, baby fat creeping into her skin, her chest becoming as flat as a chalkboard, legs becoming jellylike.   Through the door, the Head Mistress chose now to enter, not looking surprised in the slightest at the sight of her subordinate on the ground chewing on her priceless tomes. The half-giant hid a smile at the sight and made herself not giggle. “Aww, poor Ingy, sorry, I would have warned you not to try, but- I knew you wouldn’t listen.” The Professor didn’t seem to be in the position to care about any warnings, her basilisk had crawled out of his pit, curious of the commotion and crawled towards his mistress, only to receive a portion of her unfortunate fate as he crawled into her lap, becoming a plushie version of himself that Ingy immediately latched on to, cuddling the vicious killing machine and finding his head a much more suitable replacement for the icky pages in her mouth.   Shaking her head in amusement, Elesha stepped towards Cherise, wiggling her fingers in greeting at the adult baby, who once again reached out for the half-giant. “Yes, yes, now is the time for uppies, my dear,” She said, bending down to swoop up the girl.   “Hee, thhhbt!” Cherise was having a great time carried by her matronly mentor, legs dangling from her position on Elesha’s hips, discovering the joys of her tongue and the funny sounds she could make to amuse herself. “Ghhaa!” Baby Cherise wetly gurgled, pressing her face against the impressive mammaries of the large woman.   A brief moment of clarity came back to baby Ingy, releasing her basilisk into her lip, sniffing the air, fingers going towards her head, “M’ head feew funneh- Wha’ smells bad?”   “That’s just you, poopy pants,” Elesha cheerfully teased, kneeling down and poking the Professor’s cushioned crotch, making it squelch against her sex, Ingy following the pointed finger up towards the soft material of her onesie until it was tickling her chin. Ingy looked down, trying to figure out what that odd sensation that was warming her underwear was as she soaked her diaper. The plush toy was put back into Ingy’s arms, her body reflexively clinging to the basilisk as it released more of her adulthood from her hazed mind, questions disappearing where instinct reigned, her mouth finding purchase against the soft fabric once again. “Now, don’t you worry about any of your classes, cutie, I’ve already found a suitable substitute for you, a few of your more proficient upper-classmen, and they even offered to babysit you two! Won’t that be fun?”   The last vestige of Ingrid Caw’s mind let out a whimper, “Do’n- Do’n wanna baby- Noh in fwon’ of dem- Dey be mean-” She tried to croak out, words and their meaning slipping away before she could finish her thought.   “Shush, Ingy, I won’t let anyone bully you, at least, not until you remember why you might deserve it, as for you, my little Cherry,” Elesha turned her attention towards the fresh smelling graduate, “I think you could use just a eensy bit more education, yes? Someone of your caliber shouldn’t be put in a state like this so easily, not when you people are relying on you. I’ve already sent off some of my more promising students to go fix your mistakes with the Drider and rescue the villagers.” If Cherise had any understanding of what the half-giant said, she showed no signs of it, continuing to blubber on while clinging to the sizable breast, resting her head against the Headmistress, eyes growing heavy. “They should be solving the issue any minute now. The perks of being a divination specialist- Speaking of which, the nursery I have set up for you two should be just about ready now. I think by the time I’ve broken your curse, you two will get along much better.”   Elesha walked out of the office with the two adult babies on a hip, students and other Professors milling about taking just a moment to smirk and laugh at the sight of the two witches hanging off the Head Mistress before a disappointed look from the half-giant sent them scurrying away. The red haired viper of a witch had no more cutting remarks left, the only thing she used her mouth for was chewing on her dear pet. The younger witch that had so often been the hero of her own tale would have to wait some time before she could play that role again, until then, as she drifted off to sleep on the half-giant, she could dream, while the three witches made their way towards the nursery for a much needed nap.