Diaper References

Mattie's life in petticoats part 1 By derry. by the author This is an old story i wrote about 20 years ago which i found hidden onv my system.  i need to change it to get the italics and bold and underlining on this forum Do people want more of it, MY FAMILY: It was not easy being a girl in 1951. For me strangely it got easier in 1952. Life changed for a couple of boys I knew as well. I am Frances, known as Frankie. I was the oldest in the family. I was a 20 whole minutes older than my brother. Both of us were born December 16 1933. There were six of us in all- five girls and a boy. I remember feeling it was very unfair that I had to share a room with Lesley (16) and Toni (14). Matt got a room to himself. Jo (13) resented sharing a small room with Sophie who was not yet 6. We were poor. I know it was supposed to be the age of affluence. Well it was not for our family. Nor for Westford as a whole. Lots of men were without work. I liked my dad. We were always pretty good children. However we seemed to be especially well behaved when he was at home. He listened to us. I didn't think about it at the time but I even remember him helping mum with housework. In fact I had spied in them almost simultaneously cuddling, kissing and hugging whilst washing dishes and drying up together. I now think that it was a strange kind of fore-play. My dad was also a hero. He never shot at anyone. Instead for 6 years he stoked the boilers that drove the ships that kept us all fed. On May 4 1945 his ship struck a mine. My mother was, in her way, a heroine. She managed to keep all of us during that time. During the war she also worked in a factory making parachutes. I am proud of both of my parents. MY SCHOOL: The school I was at was unusual. It was a co-ed High school. These schools were set up to give a very good education to children who passed an exam at 11.Perhaps teaching boys and girls together should have been good. But at that time the headmaster, Mr Pringle, was an evil piece of work. He also seemed to pick on the girls. Sometimes he ordered Miss Smart to hit us. That was painful and humiliating. Often it was for quite small things. At 18 I would now be considered an adult. Not then. I wore socks which were the right colour but which were not quite right for the uniform. This was because mother could only afford three pairs of uniform socks. She had been nursing Sophie with flu and I had been managing the other children. I was ordered to write 500 lines. "I must attend school dressed properly." That would have been bad enough. However at 3 O’clock on the last day of   term I had to stand in the play-ground and read out those lines. Jim: Jim Hay was an evil boy. He was always "accidentally" pushing at girls. He was also lazy at school. He did get caned quite often but he thought this was an honor. For some reason he did not like me. On my way back from that humiliating experience I met him. He blocked my path. I tried to get away but he tripped me. Now I was five foot eleven and quite broad and strong for a girl. However Jim was six-two and strong for a boy. He got on to my back. He pulled up my skirt and pulled down my grey school knickers. He hit me a dozen times with a ruler. His younger brother saw it. "I'm only giving you the hiding you deserve!" He smirked. He also made the mistake of boasting about it. I did not complain. I told my mother and she hugged me. She did not complain either. There did not seem any point Jim's PUNISHMENT: However in those 2 weeks things had changed. Whilst I was experiencing one humiliation Mr Pringle was experiencing another. The governors had compared our academic performance with similar schools and with how things had been before he came. He agreed to retire- at 49. They also decided to make the head of the most successful department headmaster. They were surprised when they checked things over and found it was the Maths department. Miss Hoffman became headmistress. In those days a headmistress of a mixed Selective School was a very unusual thing. Miss Hoffman might have been the only such headmistress in England. Before Pringle left in disgrace Miss Hoffman had found out about my official punishment. In early January she found out about my unofficial punishment. She did two things. She wrote a letter to the National Assistance board. These were the people who paid Mum's pension. She got a grant for more clothing. It was unbelievable. She did something else. She said that Jim had to be properly punished. I later found out that Jim Hay had been given the choice between accepting a school punishment or facing charges of indecent assault. I was allowed to watch and help with the preparation of my tormentor for his punishment. He lived ten miles away and had to get two busses to school. However he was very frightened of Police involvement. So he arrived at eight in the morning- as per instructions. Miss Hoffman took him by the hands and led him into the nurse’s room. "Prepare Master Hay for his punishment." Jim was very surprised when the school nurse started undressing him. "But you can't this is crazy!" Miss Hoffman was very insistent. "Of course it is up to you. If you withdraw your consent to my punishment you can leave the school. We will put the matter into the hands of the Police." He did not actually resist. The nurse told him about he next thing. "You now need some injections. I will go upstairs to get my things." He had to wait, with nothing on for about ten minutes. He was hating it. I was loving it. Finally the nurse came down. She produced a hypodermic. It seemed to have a longer than average needle. She took a very long time pumping the drug into the syringe. "Please don't- I hate injections." The nurse was not sympathetic. "Don't be a baby. I know it is hard for you but do TRY not to be a baby." He was very embarrassed. The nurse was enjoying her role. "Now lie on the table on your left side and make sure you look at the mirror." There were in fact two mirrors one on each side of the medical table. The nurse wanted to make sure that Jim could see her pushing the long needle into his arse. "Ow ah!" A second injection was given to his right buttock then he was told to lie on his right side. Two more injections were given. Miss Hoffman then addressed him. "At 9:45 you will be expelled from this school. You will no longer need your uniform. I have therefore donated it to our charity department in case there is a boy who NEEDS uniform. "I know that your parents are quite rich. You had 19 shillings and eight pence in your pocket. You will give all of that to Frances as Compensation." That was nearly a pound. It was a lot of money in those days. Miss Hoffman continued her explanation. "Of course you will have to get home. There will be a bus to Darrington at half past ten. If you then wait there for an hour there will be another bus to your home village just after 12. It is market day I believe. "I have made out a travel warrant. The bus company will honor it. "I note that you favor hitting naughty children on their bare behinds. I will do this to you- in front of the whole school. "Finally you show a real fascination for correct girl's uniform. You will wear one during your punishment. That is how you will be attired when you are expelled." I then smiled. "It is going to be my job to get you dressed. Sit down." He sat on the medical table. I first put on his green regulation socks. Grey knickers followed. He was really embarrassed by the bra. This was stuffed with Kleenex. Mind you I knew lots of Girls who did that with their brassieres. Then came his blouse. I took my time buttoning this up. Next a white waist slip. The slip was not compulsory but I liked the idea of him wearing an actual petticoat. Then his skirt. Next his tie. Finally his dark green cardigan. Of course Jim was bigger, especially taller, than most girls. It was hard for him not to show his panties and very hard not to show his petticoat. The nurse then gave him some unwelcome information. "You may have wondered what those injections were for. Well I will explain. You have heard of a local anesthetic. There is also a ‘Local Stimulant’. It can help where there has been some nerve damage. "In a case where the nerves are not damaged it will of course amplify the effects of any stimulus- for instance pain. Oh yes and you will find your inhibitions weakened. If you feel like crying- you may well cry." The first assembly of the school was set up differently to the usual one. The girls were at the front and boys at the back. We had our short religious service then Miss Hoffman told us what her plans were. She was in favour of self expression. But she was also in favor of hard work. She would not tolerate misbehavior. Especially if stronger people hurt of upset more vulnerable ones. Then she described Jim Hay's crime. She did not name his victim. Finally she told them something of his punishment. "Because Jim was so interested in the girls' uniform we thought it good he should wear it on his last morning. He will be expelled in a few minutes. "He also favours corporal punishment on the bare bottom. It will be interesting to find out his views from a more direct experience. "Because his behavior, like that of other bullies, was childish that will be the style of his punishment." A soft chair with no arms was put onto the stage. Miss Hoffman sat down. "Across my knees, child." Jim obeyed. Up came his skirt. Up went his petticoat. Down came his grey panties. His punishment was to be administered as if he were a child of 6 or even two He received six heavy hairbrush blows. These blows really were VERY heavy. Miss Hoffman was 41, but very fit. Although her specialism was maths she had been a sportswoman. She had played cricket for England ladies. It was said she could send a cricket ball down the pitch at 80 miles an hour. That may have been an exaggeration but she certainly had an extremely strong right arm. By the fifth blow Jim was crying. Boys at the back and girls at the front were laughing. He had a nasty surprise coming. After six blows he stood up. "Now, Miss Smart will deal with the other side." Miss Smart was the Games teacher who usually ended up being told by the previous head to carry out corporal punishment on girls. She happened to be left handed. Jim Hay’s left buttock received the same treatment. Then he was expelled. His journey home took 3 hours. He had no chance of getting out of his humiliating clothing until he got home. Lots of people saw him. One of them was my brother Matt. MATT: My brother is not as clever as I am, but he's not stupid. Unfortunately at least since Dad's death he was amazingly lazy. He did nothing to help in the house. I kind of resented that. Of course few other people even noticed it. He was a boy. Girls were the ones who did housework. He was also lazy at school. He failed his eleven plus. He also twice failed an examination called an "O" level. There was one other exam he failed three times which had an even greater significance. This was the "Western Insurance Company" exam. The Insurance Company was by far the biggest local employer. Of course this was before the age of computers. They had lots of jobs. They recruited very strictly according to an exam. About two thirds of their workers were girls. Even so it was the biggest local employer of males- not excluding agriculture. The truth was that Matt could have passed the eleven plus. He could have passed the "O" levels. He could have easily passed the Company exams. He could even have got to University. He would have got a grant to pay for his studies and his keep because Mum was so poor. The Insurance Company exam was not that difficult. The papers were published. I did one of them at age 11. I passed. Dad was very proud, although even then he thought I should set my sights much higher. He was determined all his children would have the chances he never got Instead Matt lazed about. Officially he was still at school. He missed about half the days. Mum did not want a fuss made. If he was treated as her dependent she got extra money. It certainly did not seem likely that he would get a job. He read comic books. He listened to the radio. He sneaked into the picture house without paying. He hung around with other unemployed lads. He was getting more and more unpleasant to live with. Some people have suggested he may have had a complex about his size. Dad had been short and fat. Mum was tall and thin. I was tall and broad. Matt was short and thin. He was five one. That is not a midget. However Jo at age 13 was as tall as he was. MATT’S STORY: When I got home I met my brother. Mother was busy ironing. Matt said. "You'll never guess what I saw today in Darrington. Hay, that horrid boy at your school. "Saw him. He wore his school uniform, only it was the girls' uniform. And it was even funnier. He kept trying to hide the waist slip, petticoat whatever you call it, but he couldn't. And a lot of the time you could see those grey knickers. "He was standing at the bus shelter for over an hour. I don't know why he didn't sit down." I chipped in. "I know why he didn't sit down. His botty was VERY sore. We all watched it get sore. He has also been expelled." Matt laughed. He had not been told of what had happened to me but he knew a great deal about Jim's reputation. "Bet he deserved it too." I added something else. "And it was on his bare skin." Matt’s attitude changed a little. "Hay really is a nasty bit of work. But I don't quite think anyone really deserves treatment like that. I mean I'd do anything not to be put in girls' clothes and have my bare bum...” Mother heard the conversation. "Don't use that word, it's rude. And what were you doing at Darrington?" His reply was not very coherent. "I was err..." Mother's comment was very clear. "I do not know what you were doing, but you can't have been at school. You'll not get a job next year. But you'll stop being able to pretend your at school. And they'll stop your money. And I can't keep you. "I'll have to do something about you." FINAL WARNING: The next morning was Tuesday. An urgent letter arrived. It was from Matt’s form teacher. He was very worried about the number of classes Matt was missing. He was also concerned about his behaviour when he did actually turn up. Mother was very angry. She was also frightened. As she saw it her boy was throwing away his life. She spoke loudly and clearly. "Mat, this is your last warning. If you do not from now on attend every class, do every bit of homework, and act properly in class, I, I'll deal with you." The truth was that Mother did not know what she would do. She had thought of hitting my brother. Somehow that did not seem the right thing to do to a boy- a young man of his age. Matt was 18. I don't mean that she was frightened of her son. The truth was if it came to a physical contest mother would have probably won on her own. She would certainly have won with my help. That help would certainly be available. We had all been hit occasionally when we were younger. This had not happened often. We had not been naughty often. Mother had only hit us when were really awful. Looking back I do not think that dad had hit us at all. Matt went off to school. He even stayed there all that day. Mother wrote a letter to Matt’s form teacher. Matt did LOOK as though he was doing some homework. He did not want people to see it though. We were not sure what was happening. I sincerely hoped that he had changed. WHAT CAN WE DO ABOUT MAT? Now I was legitimately home early that Friday. As part of our history study we went to a local churchyard. It happened to be near our house. I saw mother in a waiting line for the public call box. I said hello. Then about ten minutes later mother came home. She was really upset. She was also livid: "He missed Wednesday mornings lessons, all of yesterday and all of this afternoon. My warning has done no good at all. I'll have to get a strap... "I don't want to hurt him. I never like hitting you. It was just that, everyone said that was how we could do something about misbehavior. "I don't want to do it, but what else?" Jo was doing her homework. She was at the same school as Matt. This was the Secondary school- for kids who had failed the exam. She was not as clever as he was but she worked MUCH harder. And although she was not academically bright she did notice people. Her comments were very helpful. "Mum, maybe Matt deserves to be hit. But I don't think that will make him good. They hit him at school. It's at school he's worse. "What we need is something that will change the way he acts." Then the crazy idea came into my head. The more I thought about it the less crazy it felt. Something else happened to make mother cross. Matt did not come home for tea. He stayed out. Mother stayed up. I kept her company. I kept on brooding. Finally I told her. "Matt has told us what would change his behavior. Remember he said “‘I’d do ANYTHING not to wear girl’s clothes.’” I think Matt felt this was the end of the World. His mother would walk him to school as if he were very little. His sister, five years younger than him, would be allowed to supervise him. I think he imagined nothing in the World could be worse. He had several more surprised to come. "Four, I have checked that there is no school uniform. You will wear short trousers to school. "Five you will move in with Sophie. Frankie and Lesley will have your room. Toni will share a room with Jo." That was the selfish bit. Every girl would prefer a room of her own. But having to share a small room with two others was really difficult. Mother had not finished. "Six, from now on you will do a share of the housework." "Seven, if you act like a naughty child you will be treated as such- over my knees with a hairbrush.” Matt was in shock. He had a bigger shock waiting for him. "The last punishment was inspired by what you said. You said you would do anything not to wear girls' clothes. We will see if that is right. "Until you pass some exams you will wear girls' clothing all the time you are at home. You remember Frankie did the insurance exam as a bit of fun at age eleven and passed. You failed at age 17. "I think you will fit in the clothes she wore at age TEN." Matt was furious: "No! NO! NO!" The news for my brother was even worse than he thought. Dad had liked girls to be girls, and little girls at that. Even though there was a war on at the time of my 10th birthday he had smuggled some clothes for me. They were very well made in America. They were very frilly. I remember not being too happy when I got them. They made me look younger. Except they were in my size- so they just made me look stupid. When Jo finally inherited them she liked them a lot. But of course she was now too big for them round the waist. Mother offered my brother a pair of knickers with Minnie Mouse on them. "I won't wear those bloody panties." Mother was very cross. [/i]"Right child, across my knees."[/i] He tried to run away. Jo grabbed him. I took hold of his feet. Jo kept firm hold of his hands. We lifted him onto mother's lap. "Sophie, go to mummy's room and get my hairbrush!" Matt protested. "Let me go you bitches!" Mother told him what would happen. "I am going to spank you twelve times. And for the next two evenings I am going to supervise you in making a VERY soapy drink of water. Then at seven o'clock, just before you go to bed you are going to drink it. "If you want to use nasty words again you can drink soapy water three times a day, every day, until June." He shut up but still struggled. He did not cry when mother hit him. I think it hurt a bit. The main point was humiliation. He certainly DID feel humiliated.  His spanking was finished but we still held him. Mother addressed him again. "I can see that someone else will have to dress you. Would you dress your new little sister Frankie?" Jo then piped in: "Can I dress him- err her?" Mother agreed. "That's a good idea. Now Mattie don't Minnie mouse knickers suit you?" He answered very quietly. "No." Mother asked him. "Do you think Minnie mouse knickers are a good idea for little Mattie. Speak up so I can hear you." This time his reply was audible. "No!" Mother had another threat "Perhaps you would prefer napkins." Mattie was not quite sure what she was talking about. He may have had an idea. He still felt scared by its confirmation. "What?" His fears were confirmed "Napkins, diapers, didies NAPPIES. Maybe you need them anyway judging from last night." He surrendered: "I'll wear what you make me wear." We allowed Mattie to sit down on a chair. Jo fitted the childish panties over his feet. They went up to his knees. Jo gave her instruction "Stand up little Mattie." The panties were pulled up around his bottom. He then allowed Jo to lower a full length petticoat over his head. Then came another. On this the skirt was very full. Next came white ankle socks.  His sandals were black Finally came the Dress. It was covered in flowers. The sleeves were very full. The petticoat pushed the skirt right out. It had a great big pink bow at the front. Except for his size he looked like a six year old. One thing that stopped him being a convincing girl was his short hair. In those days boys did NOT wear long hair. Girls rarely wore short hair. Mother however explained something. "I don't think you should have your hair cut until June." She then added: "If you fail your exams would you prefer a pony tail or pig tails?" WASHING DISHES: We had our lunch. In the kitchen there was a pile of dishes to wash from breakfast and as well as the lunch things. "Mattie, you will now be doing the dishes." Mother hung a pinny over him. I guess he was pleased that it hid his dress. Mother carefully showed him how to do the dishes. She washed three plates. Then we left him to it. An hour later Mother went back in. "Mattie, this is not good enough. You'll have to do it again." In fact it took a third try. MOUTH WASH: I was really looking forward to that evening. My brother was going to learn not to use horrid words. Mother watched whilst he carefully cut up a whole bar of soap. Then he gradually stirred it into a saucepan half full of water. The heat on the gas cooker helped it to dissolve. Then it was allowed to get cold. At half past six the punishment began. Mattie was already in a night-dress ready to go to bed. I think he thought he would be able to get it over quickly. Mother had other ideas. She took an egg cup and filled it with soapy water from the saucepan. Mattie wore a pinny over his nighty. The Saucepan was right in front of him. "Now little Mattie. I want to make sure you remember this. So don't swallow until I tell you to. Open up." The soapy water was poured from the egg-cup into the child's mouth. Then mother talked to Sophie. "Sophie, would you please count to thirty, very slowly." Each installment of his mouthwash was given in the same way. Finally mother said. "Mattie, it is half past seven. That is half an hour after your bed time. So what we are going to do is start giving you your mouthwash tomorrow at half past five. Then you can go to bed at half past six. "Sophie because you have been such a good girl you can stay up until eight o'clock. "And Mattie, remember you sleep in the bottom bunk."

After Amy had finished burping her niece and getting her to stop coughing she gently lowered the little teen in her arms, putting her back in a cradle position before getting the bottle and gently putting the nipple in her mouth. "now drink it slowly so you don't cough again." Amy said as she gently rocked her niece and getting her more relaxed.

72. My Week’s Highlights Everything I tried was a failure. I had half a dozen ideas of who might be the mystery little I had introduced Ffrances to, but I couldn’t figure it out. And Ffrances wouldn’t help; her concern for someone else’s privacy outweighed even her own comfort. I tried asking around discreetly, and searching for every hidden clue I could think of; but every possibility I considered turned out to be a dead end. I knew there was time to investigate more, but it would be pretty tight. We were planning on having the party as soon as Tess got back after Christmas, which meant there was almost no time left to convince another little that we were serious, even once I knew who she was. I just had to keep on trying. And when we got a few minutes together, we were still refining some of the details of how this session was going to work. It was still about giving the little a Christmas gift, but a lot of other things were changing after Tess’s demands. I still wanted to believe that we would find a way around forcing Ffrances to join in the scene, but the other things I would probably have to live with, and that meant I needed to understand how it was going to work so that I could find the best way to use it to further encourage her into her headspace. The big problem this time was that I wouldn’t be able to trigger Tess. I couldn’t believe that when Ffrances told me, but now I was coming to understand. Tess still didn’t quite trust me, and she wanted to take control out of my hands. She would feel safer regressing, perhaps, if she was the one making the choices. So now, she would have to kick off her regression by telling us how old she was. Once she said that, I was free to suggest how she should feel, and how she should act, but she would have to say the trigger phrase herself to make it happen. “I’m that little,” Ffrances had said with a giggle. “You don’t have to be. We can find –” “No, I mean as the trigger phrase. You tell Tess how a kid of her current age would behave, and she says ‘Yes, I’m that little!’ to make it happen. If it’s something that’s completely appropriate for the age she chose, and something that she’s excited or curious about experiencing, it will be natural to say it without feeling embarrassed. But it still won’t affect her until she actually makes that choice. The power’s always in her hands.” I nodded, and thought about it. I could already see how I could use that; I’d seen more than Ffrances had how easy it was for Tess to sink into a real little headspace. Like when I’d given her a pacifier the first time, she hadn’t even thought to take it out. If she was feeling like that again, she could easily be talked into things she might not otherwise have considered. And because of the permissive nature of the suggestions, it would seem like her own idea. That would make it easier to accept those things in future. I didn’t know how well that would work, but I could think about it more as the week passed. One thing that I was less enthusiastic about was the second change Ffrances made to that trigger. She was still talking as if she would be little alongside Tess, which I assumed meant she would play along as if she had the same trigger. But no; Ffrances said she would be recording a hypnotic induction for herself, and then listening to it in the car. So she didn’t have any power over Tess that she might be tempted to abuse, and so that the little one could clearly see that everything was fair. I understood why that made sense, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. Especially when she told me how she planned to make the triggers work: I could suggest things that a child might do or feel at a certain age, and that was good. But picking their ages in the first place, as well as deciding whether to turn my ideas into triggers, would be entirely in Tess’s hands. For both of them. She would be able to agree that she was that little, or say that Ffrances was, or that they both were. “Why would she be able to accept a trigger for you without enjoying it herself?” I asked. “Why would she even want to? And why would you–” “Because I’m her little sister, remember? Because she wants to have some degree of control. And because I want to see what it’s like. I want to know what you’re putting her through.” I tried to dissuade her, but she was clear that she had decided. I wasn’t going to argue with her when she was in that mood, and I knew the only way I was going to save her now was finding another little, but without the faintest clue who it might be I didn’t know where to look. Ffrances had hypnotised Tess again during the week; while I was out at work on Monday. I didn’t like to think that I didn’t know everything about what was going on in my baby’s life; it seemed strange that she was home but I wasn’t. But I could understand that kids in school would have more vacation time than me. It was one of the worst things about being an adult, and one that I really wished I could leave behind. I would have missed out, but I’d had enough forethought to leave my old laptop in the lounge recording audio. Ffrances was a creature of habit, and she knew that the coffee table was the most comfortable place to set up her metronome. I took the recordings with me to work the next day, so that I could skim through them and check for the sounds of hypnosis during any dull moments in the office. The suggestions weren’t far from what I had expected, which I found reassuring. She did the initial parts of the setup for the Christmas party, but I knew she would want to repeat that to make sure the triggers were potent enough. And then she half woke Tess and took her back down into trance again, making sure to emphasise that these were completely different suggestions that weren’t related to the Christmas party. She reminded her that if we told her she wouldn’t have an accident, she would be unable to do anything that would make it happen. And then she moved on to the other suggestion. It was everything I could have hoped. Tess was going to have an accident if we told her she would; that much hadn’t changed. But now we would have more flexibility. I knew that was a logical progression; it was a lot easier to add variation to a trigger once the basic concept was working. So I would be able to tell her that she would have an accident, just as before. And I could also tell her that she would have an accident despite being a big girl, so that it wouldn’t feel childish to her and she wouldn’t find it any more natural to slip into her little headspace. That might actually be useful in some circumstances, because it would help to separate the suggestions from each other in her mind. She would never suspect that her wetting was entirely caused by the hypnosis, so she would be more eager to keep reinforcing those suggestions any time they started to fade. And on the other side of the coin, if I told her she was going to have an accident like a baby at a specific time, the littlespace would come on hard and fast, helping her to feel as childish as she ever had and only getting stronger if others treated her like a child. And along with either of these variants, I could tell her that she would be surprised if I wanted to guarantee she wouldn’t realise she had been triggered. The other side of the coin for that one was telling her that she had to have an accident, like it was a command rather than a prediction; in that case she would be fully aware what was happening, and could try to resist it all she wanted only for her efforts to further weaken her control. That sounded like fun, but I knew I wouldn’t have the opportunity to use it until Tess was a lot more comfortable with having accidents. Right now she needed to believe it was caused by stress, and not by us. I was happy to hear that session, and got so caught up in listening to it that I almost missed out on this week’s chapter of The Baby Button, along with an accompanying note from the author about the frustration of trying to write during her breaks at work. Apparently she’d taken longer to complete the latest chapter because her flow was interrupted by a nosy boss prying into what she was doing. I left a little comment back saying that my employer had a policy of allowing employees to do whatever they wanted, so long as their work was completed on time. I said she should check with HR if they had any similar protections, and perhaps check if there was anything she could do to complain about a colleague who wouldn’t mind their own business. And if not, to seek out companies with more liberal policies the next time she was thinking about a change of career. I hated to think that such a creative artist would be limited because her workplace didn’t recognise real talent. But the story was as good as ever; disruption to her writing hadn’t reduced the quality at all. So I was on top of the world as I walked back to Ash Crescent where my truck was parked. It was only on the way home that my good humour started to fade. That boy was going to be here today. The one who wanted everyone to call him Spike, and would point blank refuse to give the name he was born with. Did he think a pseudonym made him seem tougher? A young man from a broken home, who had been exposed to a culture of crime and drugs from an early age. The last possible person I would have wanted near my little, but I knew she trusted him and it was my duty to make sure that she saw his true colours as soon as possible. Cooking was a long and slow process. We were having a whole roast chicken, which wasn’t something we did often. It was about the only thing I’d learned to cook while my mother was still around, and I’d shown Ffrances how she did it when we were in college. We were used to both doing our bit when it came to getting everything ready, but it was still pretty time consuming. It was so easy to lose track of the times that different things needed putting into the oven or turning around. This time it would be a little easier for me, because it had already been slowly cooking for more than an hour when I got home. But I knew that the next part of the work was mine; Ffrances was going out to pick up “Spike” from whatever bridge he was lurking under. “I’m proud of you,” Ffrances said, patting my ass as I started the complex process of recreating my mum’s country gravy. “You are?” “Being open to new ideas, and giving the boy a chance. You’re maturing, growing wiser. Maybe Tess has been a good influence.” “Let’s hope I don’t grow up into a toddler then,” I tried to crack a joke, but it fell flat. I still didn’t really understand why Ffrances thought this was a good idea, but I knew that it would earn me some brownie points, as well as earning Tess’s respect again. That was worth it for me. “Do you want to take Tess with you? You’re only going down to Raybridge aren’t you? But she’s been home all day, she could use some fresh air.” “And you don’t want cold drafts blowing through the house from the door opening while you’re cooking,” she guessed. “You’re right, though. It would be good if the kids have a couple of minutes to talk before the chaperone joins them.” I turned around to give her a long kiss before she went out. The gravy really was a little temperamental, and I would need ten minutes to stir it without letting it cool too much if I didn’t want it to go all lumpy. But that wasn’t the real reason I’d suggested the two of them go out together. As soon as the door was closed, I hurried into the lounge and picked up my old laptop. It was still recording, so I paused it for a moment and emailed the files to myself. I would need to check them, to see if the hypnosis plans for Tess’s second full regression day included any surprises I wasn’t aware of this time. Then I walked over to the window and looked out in the direction of Lenora Avenue. They were certainly gone. My laptop could just about have picked up the audio from a trance in the kitchen, even if the quality wouldn’t be great. But there was still a possibility that Ffrances might want her to lie down if she was doing something more relaxation focused. There was no way I would be able to set up a recorder in the nursery without Tess noticing; she’d even unplugged the baby monitor shortly after arriving. But nobody would think twice about a laptop. Of course, the app on Tess’s computer was a bit different from mine. It was named SystemVideoPropertiesUpdateManager.dll, and the control panel to download the recordings was buried somewhere on the filesystem. I could thank Matt for letting me know things like that existed, when he’d been double checking that nobody was spying on me through my office computer. I checked on FriendSpace while I was there, as well. Tess had barely interacted with anything, although I noticed that there were a few ABDL companies and support groups showing up under the heading “You Might Like…”. She must have been looking at them, then. I clicked ‘Join’ and ‘Upvote’ a few times. I knew she would like to see more content about things she was interested in, and having cute pictures in her feed would just make it easier to accept how normal this is. Not to mention, of course, that now I knew which companies she was following, I could suggest that Ffrances take a look at them. If she had any doubts that this was what Tess really wanted, seeing that they had mutually upvoted a certain specialist retailer would be one more reason to believe what I said our little girl really wanted. With that done, I hurried back down to the kitchen and continued my preparation of the sauce. I was rushing now, but I was sure I would still have time.

Chapter 11: Contacts Tales of the Sanctuary: Book 1 - Denial – LittleFallenPrincess     “Little girl… you’re in so much trouble later…” Vic growled at Nia, as we returned to the group who were all still just standing about, unable to do anything about our current situation, just waiting for any kind of news or update. “Vic… it’s okay… she… she actually ended up helping me a lot. It was nice… telling someone…” I interrupted, to the defence of my demonic (and apparently now somehow also angelic) friend. As I looked at my friend and former employer… I could see she was torn. But the relief in her smile told me she was proud of Nia… which made my heart feel warm again. “See! I’m good! I help!” Nia whined. I walked over to Nia, stood right in front of her, smiling, staring directly into her eyes… not blinking. “And you also teased me. I swear, little demon… I will get you back for that…” I growled through gritted teeth. “Don’t forget who I am…” Nia’s face froze in fear. She knows full well what I am capable of, as does her backside. “I… umm…” The whole group turned around to the doorway to see my sister standing there, looking pretty dejected. “I take it there’s no luck?” I sighed, knowing full well what that face of hers was saying. “I… I’m sorry…” Beth replied, walking over and wrapping her arms around me. “I promise… I will do anything I can. But so far… I can’t find the cause of what is keeping her between planes of existence. She’s not dead… but she isn’t alive. I can’t use necromancy to bring her back or anything similar because she’s not technically dead… but I can’t heal her because she’s not technically alive. I’m at my wits end… I don’t know what to do. It’s not like I can just call a phoenix specialist…” “What about…” Lucy interrupted, before her cheeks turned red as she realised she was now the centre of attention. “No… nevermind…” “No, go on…” Beth encouraged her, trying to sound comforting to help ease the poor girl into talking in front of everyone. “I… umm…” Lucy began mumbling to herself, as if she was unsure as to if she should say whatever was on her mind or not, before waddling over to my sister, reaching up so her mouth was close to my sister’s ear… then whispered something to her. Nodding along, my sister seemed to be really interested as to what Lucy had to say, before my sister looked directly at Nia. “Nia… come with me, please…” Beth said. It was definitely more of an order than a request, it seemed. “Lucy, you come with me too, and you too, Bea…”   “So what’s all this about Nia being able to heal?” Beth asked as she sat down on her stool, facing the three of us. I noticed Sera laying on a table behind her, her body covered up by a sheet, leaving only her head visible. And I so desperately wanted to go hug her… “Sorry…” Lucy said to Nia. “Look… I… umm…” as Nia ‘umm’d’ and ‘ahh’d’ her way around the topic, my sister was clearly having none of it. “And Beatrice…” she growled at me. “Yes, sis?” “You’re not surprised by this revelation…” Lucy looked at me in shock. “Wait… you know?” “She literally just told me about it all like twenty minutes ago… well… showed me,” I replied. “ISN’T IT SO COOL? TELL HER IT’S SO COOL! SHE KEEPS WHINING ABOUT THEM, BUT THEY’RE FREAKING WINGS! HOW CAN SHE NOT BE EXCITED ABOUT FREAKING WINGS?!” “W… wings?” Beth asked, before clutching her forehead. “What are you keeping from us, Nia?” “I… umm… may be… part angel now…” Nia mumbled, nervously. “What do you mean by that? I thought you already wer-” Nia’s angelic wings unfurled themselves, seemingly out of nowhere, as the poor little demon looked embarrassed. “I…”  For once, my sister was speechless. So I quickly made a perfect recreation of this moment in my memories so I could enjoy it at a later time… and ideally make fun of her for it. “That’s not all… show her!” Lucy said, cheering on our friend to share more. Nia’s red skin turned a pale shade of pink, just like her glamour, and her hair turned blonde… which wasn’t the same colour as her usual glamour. “I… maybe… umm… am able to look like I did before the fall… umm…” Nia mumbled. No horns, no tail, new heavenly wings and a slightly different face and hair… Angel Nia was actually kinda fucking cute. Pre-Sera me totally would’ve fucked her. “Nia… why didn’t you share this part too?” I asked. After all… I had only seen the wings up to this point. “I… look… I was struggling with the whole ‘turning back into an angel thing’ already…” “You’re… turning back into an angel?” Beth asked. “What does this mean? What… What exactly does this allow you to do? Could you heal Sera?” “I mean… look, I don’t know what’s causing it… and I don’t know what the limits to it are just yet. All I know is that I managed to bring Fiona back from the brink of death, and I protected Vic from the blast in Lucy’s apartment. I don’t know if I can resurrect the dea-... Fuck. Sorry Bea…” “Could you at least try?” my sister asked, sounding pretty desperate at this point, which kinda scared me. “I… can try…” Nia shuffled awkwardly over to my girlfriend’s body, standing beside it, looking down awkwardly as a lingering silence filled the air. “Well?” Beth asked, crossing her arms, looking more impatient than I had ever seen her. “Well… here goes…” Nia held out her hands over Sera’s body and closed her eyes. It took a second before something finally happened… and her hands began glowing. “This is so cool…” Lucy whispered to herself, excitedly. I waited with bated breath, hoping to the Goddess that Nia would be able to bring Sera back from wherever she was. But at the same time… if she’s not in there… is there anything to heal? Or would whatever this thing Nia is doing bring back her soul to her body? At this point, we were just throwing options at the wall and hoping one of them stuck. “Is anything happening?” Nia asked, too afraid to open her eyes. “Nia, just stop,” Beth ordered. “This isn’t working. I can’t feel any pull on the tether between her soul and her body. You’re just healing a healthy body right now…” “Wait… a tether?” Lucy asked, as if an idea had popped into that adorable little head of hers. “Could… you trace it?” “Tried that, sweetie. But I can’t even get a direction, let alone an actual destination as to where Sera’s lifeforce is. I’m afraid I’m out of options.”   I collapsed into the chair nearby, my shoulders slumping as I sighed heavily, feeling the hurt of defeat deep within my heart. “We’ll get her back, I promise,” Lucy said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep…” I replied, sighing again. I felt so lost. The love of my life was gone… and I couldn’t do anything about it. And it wasn’t like she was actually dead… so I can’t even mourn her. She’s… wait… “Nia…” I blurted out. “Yeah Bea?” “Earlier you mentioned ‘our deathly associate’...” “Yes, and?” “I think we need to get some outside help…”   -------------------------------------------------------   “You sure this will summon them?” Vic asked as we all stood around a runed circle that Nia had drawn on the dining hall floor. Everyone had gathered for this, as it would need a lot of magic to accomplish. Even those not magically inclined were acting as batteries for us, allowing us to tap into their lifeforce to fuel this summoning. “Definitely. I had to summon them once for a night out a decade or so ago. So I know it works,” I replied, smiling at my friend and ex-employer. “And you think… they… have the answer?” “If they don’t have the answer… then they’ll at least know where to direct us to someone who does. This is the only option we have left right now. We need an expert on all things dead, even if Sera isn’t technically dead. Who better than the Lord of Death themselves?” “I… don’t feel comfortable summoning-” “Oh don’t worry, they’re like super cool with us all,” Lucy shrugged. “Wait…” Vic asked, realising something, “You’ve… all… had dealings with them?” “Yeah. Haven’t you?” “Well… yeah… but I thought I was…” “The only one? You know Susie is technically undead, right? Nia is from Hell. Even I’m technically undead.” “I know that… I just… Look, the last time I saw them it was a pretty traumatic time for me. What with the whole ‘being sacrificed and sent to Hell’ thing… It didn't help that they wore my ex’s face…” “That’s just a trick-” “I know what it was… I just… What appearance will they take on if we’re all here? Will they pick one of us? Pick someone close to the person who summoned them? Or maybe because it’s to do with Beatrice and Sera… maybe…”” “White hair, fit, great tits… that’s their default appearance,” Nia said, interrupting her fiancée , before realising who she was talking to. At that point she quickly shut up so her fiancée didn’t turn her butt a completely different shade of red. “Okay. Fine. Let’s do this then…” Beth took that as a signal to start, so as everyone shut up, she began focusing, drawing on the power within each of our souls, as we all held hands, completing the circle we were standing around. Nia was about to speak, probably to say something snarky whilst there was complete silence in the room, but one look from me and she quickly backed down and shut up. Beth needed complete silence and I wasn’t going to allow Nia’s inner brat ruin this. I know she doesn’t mean to and she means well… but that girl is so destructive. And as my sister began chanting the words to the spell, written in a language older than any human knows… I felt the tug on my core… on my soul… as it connected with the others, channelling just a bit of energy towards my sis. Not enough to weaken, hurt or kill us… but enough to give her the energy needed to complete the summoning ritual. And as we all closed our eyes, channelling our lifeforce out… a voice called out… “You could’ve just called. I have a phone, you know…” We all opened our eyes in shock, turning to the source of the voice. But… it wasn’t in the runic circle like we expected. I took one look at Death, then quickly looked back to my sister, who just shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t get to complete the spell…” she whispered over to me so the others didn’t hear. “Dee…” I called out, unlinking my hands and running over to them, wrapping my arms around them and giving them the biggest hug. “Trix…” they replied, hugging me tightly. “What’s so important you wanted to try summoning me?” “How… Did you know? We didn’t complete the ritual…” “Sweetie, I’ve been hiding out in the background for a little while now… I’m surprised your little angelic friend didn’t say anything… I would’ve thought she would’ve been able to see me.” This caught Nia by surprise, who began blushing. “Nia… What are they talking about? Is one of your siblings nearby?” Vic asked her, making Nia feel put on the spot, as she casually shrugged her shoulders and pretended to not know anything. “Wait… but why?” I asked Death. “Sera and I are old friends. And as soon as she didn’t meet me at the crossroads between life and death like she normally does when she’s about to be reborn… I got worried. So I got here about half an hour ago.” “WHY DIDN’T YOU MAKE YOURSELF KNOWN?” “I wanted to see what was going on. And I didn’t want to disrupt any plans your sister made. She has a habit of… ruining mine…” Beth stood at the back of the room, looking everywhere but our direction, trying to pretend we don’t exist. “Meddling necromancers aside… I was worried. So I held back, waiting to join… then I stepped outside for two minutes and you started to bloody summon me! Obviously I had to step in before you wasted all that magic…” “Well I’m glad you’re here anyway. Have… have you not heard from Sera then? Wait… you said you’re old friends?” I asked, confused. “She didn’t tell you? She’s one of my ‘special cases’. I meet her once a month, like I have always done with phoenixes, and I guide them back to their bodies.” “Why didn’t you guide her back to hers this time?” “There was no one there to guide. Trix… she never showed up.” Death was one of the few people who was allowed to give me a nickname. Sera, Death, Lucifer… my partner and my best friends. Best friends with the Devil and Death… I sure know how to pick ‘em. Anyone else who tries… well they get the fury of ‘Beatrice’. Maybe now my other close friends know my most vulnerable side… maybe… just maybe… I’ll let them call me nicknames. Well, except for Sera’s special name for me. That’s reserved for just her. “Do you know what happened?” I asked them. “That’s the thing, I have no idea. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to find the poor girl. But I’ve looked everywhere. Every afterlife.” “Except…” “Yes, I know, but I can’t see her slipping past into the monstrum afterlife… I can’t go there but I’m sure I’d be able to tell if she had slipped past me into that… whatever it is.” “Then where the hell is she?” I asked, frustrated. “Sweetie, I’ll continue looking, I’ll even double check everywhere. I’ve also got a couple of contacts I’m going to get in touch with, see if they can help. Just… be patient.” “I CAN’T! Dee… you know I can’t live without her…” “Oh I know. She always loved telling me all about you. I always pretended to not know you, just so she could get excited about bragging all about you as we waited at the crossroads, waiting for her rebirth.” “She… told you about me?” “Trix… she loved you more than anything. And you love her more than anything, as you never shut up about her to me and Lucifer. It’s like you were bound by fate to be together. If that existed. Which it doesn’t, trust me. Imagine two people being tied up together by fate, to be destined to meet… that’s just fantasy in silly made up stories. But looking at you two… you two nearly make me want to disregard the truth.” “I…” I didn’t know what to say for a moment. “Wait… so you’re going again?” “Yes, sweetie.” “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?” “Wait. I’ll be in touch, I promise. Just… let me give you my phone number again so you don’t have to go about summoning me again…”   Once Death had gone, leaving us all shocked, Vic especially, we all collapsed into the nearest chair we could find, not knowing what to do next. But before we could relax… the power went out. Completely out. Everything went pitch black. Couldn’t see a thing. I could hear someone shuffling about. Followed by the sound of two people struggling. And that’s when the lights came on.           ===================================================== There's the end of the first book. Next book is from the perspective of a certain little bratty demon... Hope you enjoy that on Sunday! (Will still be posted in this topic, I split it up into 'books' but they're all part of one big story.   If you want to read a month in advance (that's 8 chapters), or just want to support me and my writing, you can do so through Subscribestar! Subscribers get 4 weeks (8 chapters) early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want four weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories, why don't you check out my SubscribeStar?  Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. 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I was at a school Halloween party my 8th grade year. This really cute girl came dressed as a baby. Hoo boy!