Baby Talk

I’m honestly super curious how the conversation between Amber and martini went when she got back that night before the school  scene

This was pure sugar and warmed my heart thank you for being an awesome author.

Maybe it will be this chapter! Will it be important? Will Brock respect her? Who knows!   112. Daddy’s Girl Stella pouted at the screen. The penguin was pushing a red ball, but the hole in front of it was blue. She’d been so sure that she did it right this time, but somehow she’d made a mistake again. She pounded on the carpeted floor beside her with one hand, but her frustration didn’t make any difference to the game. She glanced around to make sure Daddy wasn’t there. She didn’t want him to see her making silly mistakes like this. And straight away she felt a little wave of embarrassment. Of course he wasn’t here. If he was here to look after her, she wouldn’t be lying on the nursery floor in a wet diaper, playing silly games to keep her busy while she waited. But even as she thought that, she heard the gentle ping to tell her that the front door was open. Daddy! Stella rolled over when she thought about that, sitting up eagerly. She couldn’t wait to see him after she’d been waiting so long. But the change in posture made her realise she needed to wet again, and she immediately felt a new wave of warmth spreading through her diaper. She didn’t even think about holding it until she’d finished; it felt too natural to question. She felt a little ashamed of her helplessness, but she knew that it wasn’t something she would get in any trouble for. It was all what Daddy wanted. And then finally the nursery door started to open. As it swung back, Isadora found herself worrying whether Brock would be disappointed in her, or if he would laugh. It even seemed possible that he would decide to use her like a toy; giving up any pretense of treating her as an equal partner. And she was even more ashamed to realise that Stella, the person she imagined herself to be when the hypnotic influences were strongest, was excited by the prospect. She could feel her heart starting to beat faster when she thought about it. Would Daddy feel sorry for her, getting stuck in a state like this? Would he be nurturing and protective? Would he look down on her for making such a careless mistake? Or the worst case, would he think this was what she really wanted? And if he did, how would she ever show him the truth? Brock stopped in the doorway, and for a moment she just looked up at him, waiting to see what he would do. She didn't miss the slight pause; the surprise as his eyes took in the scene, and then settled back into something neutral that told her absolutely nothing. She was glad that she didn’t see shock or disgust there, but she couldn’t read his real feelings at all. "There she is," he said quietly, in a sing-song voice perfect for greeting a small child. Stella felt her shoulders drop about an inch. She hadn't known they were tense. He crouched down beside her, bringing himself to her level, and looked at the game on the screen. The penguin was still waiting patiently for her next attempt. “Have you been playing some cute games, sweetie?” he asked. “Have you been here all day?” “I dunno.” It seemed a reasonable answer. She’d gotten carried away with the penguins, and she wasn’t quite sure now how long it had actually been. Her brain felt like it was filled with fog again, just like the endless progression of days in the Pink Room. “Long time?” Stella nodded. Brock glanced at her briefly, just a flicker, and then away again. He wasn't going to ask now, he wouldn’t make her admit her mistake. And he knew what she needed without being asked as well. “Okay,” he said simply. “Looks like somebody might need a change. Let’s get you sorted out, and then we can play some more. Okay?" She tried, and found that her legs had gone that particular kind of numb that came from sitting on the floor too long. She made a face, and he was already offering a hand before she could decide whether to ask. She took it, and he pulled her up easily, steadying her when her feet felt weak underneath her. She knew that should tell him she was fine. She should explain that she'd been doing a good job holding herself together, and that this was just a momentary lapse of judgement. She should tell him that she had actual information to share with him, and that he had to treat her like a partner at last. Isadora had all of those things ready, standing in the back of her mind in an orderly line. But big talk now didn’t feel right. Her diaper was wet and she didn’t want to delay getting a change. And it would be so hard to keep a straight face when she was in this state; it would surely be better to wait until she was back in her regular clothes, and didn’t have the urge to put on a childish lisp, to maximise the odds of her partner taking her seriously. She followed him out to the bathroom without saying any of it, watching him run the water to warm it before he turned back to her. He sat her on the edge of the tub and kept a hand at her shoulder while he adjusted the taps. Then she was lying back on a changing mat on the floor, while she stared at a spot on the ceiling, trying not to think too much about what was happening, which she felt was a reasonably dignified compromise. Brock cooed over Stella like she was a baby while he untapped her diaper, and she found herself giggling and smiling at all the attention even as she wished there was some way out of this situation. It just felt so right when he was there giving her his full attention. She did her best to ignore the indignity, and thankfully he seemed to understand what she needed. He got the job done as quickly as he could; took off the soggy diaper and disposed of it, and then quickly and efficiently cleaned her up using a sponge and suds from the bath. And all without asking any more questions. She appreciated that. She wasn't sure she could have stood sympathy right now, or cheerfulness, or anything that would have required her to respond with something other than looking at the wall. And then there was a long pause, while Brock whispered little meaningless bits of small talk like speculating about how he imagined his little one could have spent her day. Stella wondered for a few moments whether she should have answered; whether it would be worth trying to tell him what she had found, but she didn’t think she could bring herself to be serious. But then he folded a towel over her, and his voice became a little firmer. “Now, little one,” he asked, “do you need a fresh diaper? Or would you like to be a big girl now? It’s your choice, and I’m not going to judge you.” “I don’t need diapers!” she squawked indignantly, and only realised once the words were out in the room that she sounded more like a child than ever. “I didn’t mean to… I mean…” She realised that she was starting to panic. If she didn’t manage to explain right now, she wouldn’t have a way out of this strangely confused space in her mind, and the pressure made it almost impossible to get her words in order. “Calm down,” he said. “Breathe. Okay? I know that a wet diaper still makes it hard for you to think clearly, so I wanted to give you a few minutes out of one before I asked. So just tell me which you want. I can bathe you, or you can do it yourself. And then you can have diapers, pull-ups, or big girl clothes. There is no expectation here, no obligation. And you don’t need to explain yet. Just say which you would prefer. Can you do that?” His voice was so soothing, and that made it even easier for Stella to keep thinking of him as ‘Daddy’ for a moment. But it was also the question she needed. And the one he really needed an answer to, so that he could avoid making things worse for her. “I just…” she stammered. “I need to tell you things. I need to be grown-up now. Please?” “Okay, sweetie. Be a big girl for me, and get yourself all cleaned up. I’ve run the bath now, with that lilac and bergamot cream bath. I’ll fetch you some clean clothes, okay?” And then he was gone. Isadora sat up, and saw the bathroom door was still standing ajar. She could have gotten up to lock it, but there didn’t seem to be much point. There was nothing to hide from her partner now that he hadn’t already seen. So she pulled off the rest of her clothes, tossed them into the corner, and lowered herself into the bath. It was exactly the right temperature; just a little warmer than body temperature. As she quickly tried to wash herself, removing any trace of the smell of pee, she realised that he’d done everything right. The floral-scented bubbles seemed like a childish addition, and she was sure that if she’d been in a childlike place in her mind she would have had a whale of a time splashing around with them. But these ones weren’t marketed at children; they were luxurious bubbles with the name of a luxury spa on the bottle, talking about relaxing herbs rather than smelling like flowers, so choosing to wash herself didn’t make them any less appropriate. They were relaxing too, but maybe that was just a placebo. She let herself soak in the tub for quite a while, all the stress from her mistake slowly dissolving in the warm suds. She looked up when there was a faint creak from the door, and saw a disembodied hand reach into the bathroom to put down a bundle of clothes. Brock didn’t come in; and she was still grateful for that. She let herself rest a little longer, but after a while she knew that she would have to get up soon, before she shrivelled up like a prune or the water became too cold. Not to mention, she needed to pee again. She remembered the first bath on her graduation day. She had peed in the bath, she thought, like a little baby who didn’t know why she couldn’t. And maybe it would have been easier to do that again; nobody would ever know. But she told herself that she needed to have some standards. She needed to comport herself as an adult, even when she had complete privacy, or she might be on a slippery slope leading right back to being Bernard Klein’s helpless baby wife. And that would clearly be terrible, even if she wasn’t entirely sure why. Was her subconscious mind trying to tell her something? Was there a part of her that was missing the relaxation she’d had back when acting like a child had been her own choice? She didn’t know if she could do that now without setting off the hypnosis again, without losing control. But maybe it was something to look into again. She shook her head, brushed away all those unproductive thoughts, and climbed out of the bath. She dried herself off, used the toilet like an adult, and then got dressed. And when she felt all traces of childhood had been purged from her mind, she headed back downstairs to find Brock busy in the kitchen. A few seconds thinking told her that it must be time to eat, though she had no idea how much time had really passed. She stood in the doorway for a moment watching him. He stood in front of the stove with one hand on a spatula and the other shaking what looked like a sieve over a pot. She didn’t have any guesses what he was making, but she could identify the smell of garlic, something floral, and maybe just a hint of seafood. She had been too caught up in her own worries to notice what he’d been wearing when he got home, but she was sure it wasn’t the worn brown slacks and college polo shirt he was wearing now. He’d found time to deal with her problems, get changed, and start cooking as soon as he came home; showing yet again how he took every aspect of this double life in his stride. She didn’t recognise what was in the pot, but she was sure it would be delicious. And he wasn’t challenging her to explain herself, so she didn’t need to feel defensive today. Eventually, she decided that pulling out a chair and sitting at the kitchen table would be the best way to announce her presence. He must already know that she was there, but deliberately making a little noise would make it clear that she was ready to talk. “I did enough for two,” Brock said. “And a little to save for tomorrow. I assume you’ve not already eaten? I can bring some through to you if you want, or we can eat here.” “Here's fine,” she said, not trying to make any guesses about what it might mean if she returned to the nursery after what had just happened. She knew that she needed to explain; to make it clear that this wasn’t something she’d done by choice. But the lack of questions made it feel too easy; like there was some hidden gotcha waiting to catch her out. She kept on watching Brock cook, but she was too tense now to offer any help. She went over one scenario after another in her mind, desperate to find any kind of story she could tell, any excuse that was less embarrassing than the truth, but she couldn’t find any. “The diapers were right there,” he said, and then went back to adjusting the heat for a few seconds. “It’s not like I set you any rules against it. You don’t have anything to apologise for.” Isadora’s mouth opened and closed, but she still couldn’t find anything to say. “The idea was to give the hypnosis time to fade,” he continued, with just a brief glance over his shoulder. “Not to make you feel like you couldn’t try it. I have no problem with doing any of this stuff again, as long as you feel like you’re safe with it.” The kitchen was silent for a long moment. He wasn’t asking a question; he didn’t care. He was creating a space where she could tell him if she wanted to, but he wanted to make it clear that he didn’t have any objections if she wanted to be a helpless baby again. It was the most understanding, welcoming response she could imagine; but it just made her realise even more that she needed him to understand. While she thought, he turned off the heat and served out two bowls. He carried them over to the table and set one down in front of Isadora, and then took the other to the counter, leaning against it rather than joining her at the table. She didn't mind that. It felt like the right amount of distance for this particular conversation. Dinner was something with the consistency of dark-green jelly served over rice, with a side dish of a red-brown sauce and a little side salad. Isadora didn’t recognise it yet, but she was getting used to the different things Brock prepared for her to guess that this might be Korean in origin as she took her first bite. “The floor was hard,” she said, unable to keep silent any longer. Brock nodded and raised his own bowl to his mouth, picking up a bite-sized portion of rice with his chopsticks and dipping it in the sauce. “I mean… I’m sitting on the floor in the nursery. I was working on…” There she hesitated. If she told him what she was doing and then her investigation fell apart at the last step, it would be a huge disappointment. It was still possible that all the candidates her algorithm had found were false positives, so the final phase of whittling down the results would leave her with nothing. “I was doing some analysis,” she corrected herself. Vague enough that it wouldn’t seem like she’d failed if she couldn’t produce some specific result when she was finished. “And the floor was hard, it was distracting me from my work. I thought that… I mean, I never felt uncomfortable sitting on the floor in Lorenzo’s nursery. So I wanted to know if… if some padding in my clothes might make it more comfortable. I didn’t think that… I haven’t acted like a little kid in so long, I guess I kind of thought it was in the past. I didn’t expect it to kick in like that.” “And then you couldn’t change yourself?” Brock asked, and Isadora almost dropped her fork when she realised. She’d spent an hour waiting for him to come back and change her diaper; and the thought of taking it off herself, so that her adult thoughts would return, hadn’t even occurred to her. How could she have been so oblivious? “I guess,” she answered, unable to get her voice above a whisper now. “I really didn’t mean to…” “It’s okay,” he said. “And it has been a long time since we did anything like that. I think that’s probably proof enough that you are still able to choose what you want. So it’s your right to choose now. If or when you want to. And there’s no reason to feel guilty about any enjoyment, if you–” “I might!” Isadora answered quickly, and then immediately froze again, wondering if she had gone too far. “I mean… after a stressful day, maybe I could play being a kid again. Like we did those weeks in my apartment.” She corrected herself at the last minute; not mentioning the word ‘training’ in case Lorenzo might be listening to them again. Bernard visiting her home before they were officially together fit well enough with their cover stories, didn’t it? “And that’s fine,” Brock’s voice was soft and reassuring. Like he really understood her. Like he was comfortable with whatever worked for her. But she knew that she couldn’t take that at face value, because she also needed him to respect her as a partner. She needed to be an adult. “I can’t…” she stammered. “You can. And if it helps you function, you should. This isn’t something you’re being forced into now, this is going to be your choice. So a baby, or a toddler, or a little kid. Just be honest with me, and let me know. Not what you think you should want, but what makes things easier for you. Okay?” “Yeah. I… I think maybe just the childish stuff, for now. Not baby. I want to be… I need to be in control of it. But I’m not too proud to admit that it made me feel better sometimes.” “Then we’re a step closer to this being something you can properly control,” he said. But before Isadora could even think what she wanted to say, he was glancing at the clock. And he explained quickly: “Look, there’s someone I need to call tonight. Would you mind if I go in the lounge to do this? I don’t want to leave you alone if you need any support, but…” “I’m fine,” Isadora said, trying to sound as firm and confident as her partner did. But then, she felt like that didn’t entirely fit the character of Stella for any eavesdroppers. Not that most of their previous conversation would have fitted with what Lorenzo was expecting, but she felt like she should give Brock a little pushback on something, so she added: “You’re not calling your mistress, are you?” “Don’t worry,” Brock gave a half shrug, and then walked towards the lounge with a bowl of fishy spicy stuff in one hand and his phone in the other. “She’s just a stripper. Nobody for you to worry your head about.” Isadora felt a little frustration rise up for a moment. He still wouldn’t tell her what was really going on. Was that a hint about some line of investigation? Was a stripper from Violent Lace going to be the source who would get her partner investigating the real villains around here, or was this just another layer of pointless investigations focused on Lorenzo and his family? It was so frustrating, not knowing what her partner was really looking into. She tried to push her own feelings to one side, and think how Stella would respond to that. Would she be angry and tell her husband not to talk to strippers? Or would she have been so deeply conditioned by the Pink Room that she couldn’t disagree with whatever he wanted to do? Isadora felt herself torn between the two options, and by the time she realised that she needed to decide between them, Brock was already talking quietly to someone on the phone. Isadora didn’t know how to react; which probably fitted perfectly for Stella too. She sighed theatrically, picked up her bowl, and stomped frustrated back to the nursery. She swept the room for bugs, doing all the usual procedures, and then she could feel a little more secure because it was only her own insecurity she needed to worry about, not that of the fictional trophy wife she was playing. And that barely seemed to make any difference. She wasn’t going to be completely helpless, though. She was going to show that she could solve her own problems, even while waiting for her laptop to give some results. For example, sitting on the floor was uncomfortable. She knew that, and she’d told Brock. But rather than falling back on a diaper, which apparently made her think and feel like a baby again, she could get an actual cushion from the lounge and sit on that. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that before. Brock was still talking when she returned from the little room under the stairs, but she told herself that it wasn’t a big deal. So long as she didn’t distract Daddy from his call, everything was fine for Isadora and for Stella too. “…no, doesn’t suspect a thing…” Brock was saying, pacing over by the window with his phone in his hand. “…thinks we’re just into the baby thing. Completely in the dark about… well, you know. But, well, it’s going to be a big surprise when…” Isadora didn’t realise that she had frozen, trying to decipher the meaning behind those words, until Brock stopped right in front of her and handed her a giant plush shark. It would be as good as any cushion for sitting on, she was sure, but it was also yet another reminder of how many steps ahead her partner thought he was. As she took the shark, he just stood there listening to the phone in his hand until Isadora turned and walked away. Finally, with a shark to sit on, maybe she could be a little more comfortable in the nursery. She set up the laptop in front of her, and checked the status again. That last piece of processing was at 74%. Almost done now; maybe it would be ready before bed and she could show it to Brock right away, or maybe she would have to wait until morning. But either way she was sure that she could finally answer his question, and prove that she was worth confiding in. There were other things she needed to do, though. Like liaising with other monitors, checking that she wasn’t out of the loop on anything, and trying to keep her partner up to date. The sun was probably setting outside already, but she didn’t care. She was going to show that she was a good partner. And that she wasn’t completely in the dark about anything that mattered. She forced those worries out of her mind and got back to work.

Oh Anna I think depending on the author you might both end up in that nursery.

Here's the final part of the story. Again, a big thank you to Daymare for help plotting this story. Hope it lives up to your expectations, and I hope all of you like it. 😄😏😁😠😡 The next morning, after the Nurse Maids had put the five back into their respective walkers, and Ryoko and Ayeka continued to glare at each other, another of Washu's inventions arrived. It was a slim, blue robot with a blonde wig and silver mechanical arms with white hands, similar to the Robot Nurse Maids. She had a permanently smiling face and one light bulb for an eye, just like the Robot Butler. "Who you?" Kiyone asked nervously. "I'm the Robot Nanny, dearie." The Nanny said. "I'm here to care for the five of you for the rest of the week." "Yeah?" Ryoko asked moodily. "Yes, Little Ryoko." The Nanny said sweetly. "It’s so good to see you again. Now let’s get you little cuties your lunch." The Nanny picked up Kiyone and Mihoshi and held them in the crook of each arm. Just then, her chest opened up to reveal a pair of baby bottles. Already resigned to the fact that this was the rest of her week, Kiyone began drinking the milk inside of the bottle, only taking a moment to bemoan how far she'd fallen. Mihoshi, however, drank the milk without any hesitation, viewing this as a bit of a bizarre vacation by this point. Just then, six more arms came out of the Robot Nanny's back as three of them picked up Washu, Ryoko, and Ayeka, and the other three held baby bottles to them. Already used to such feedings after almost a week of being babied by her own inventions, Washu accepted her bottle without fuss. Kiyone and Mihoshi's arrival had really spiced up her time there. She had the chance to test out all of her upgrades and got even with Ryoko and Ayeka for getting even with her. Ryoko was resistant at first, but one of the arms of the nursery came down and tickled her stomach, making her laugh, and allowing the Nanny to put the bottle into her mouth. At that point, Ryoko had no choice but to drink. She'd never say this, but a part of her was actually enjoying being babied again. After all, Kagato had ruined her first childhood, and this was a surprisingly nice compromise. Ayeka reluctantly accepted the bottle, willing to accept this second adult infancy as penance for what happened to Kiyone and Mihoshi. However, that hardly meant she was happy about the situation. It was as if the various machines were channeling her mother in their efforts to make her feel like a helpless child, and that annoyed Ayeka to no end. Eventually, the feeding stopped, and Kiyone and Mihoshi were drapped over the Nanny's shoulders as the extra arms patted all five girls' backs until they all released loud belches. This caused Ayeka and Ryoko to spit up a little, and the Nanny smiled and began carrying off, continuing to hold all five girls. Ayeka began crying over this as she wanted out of this nightmare even though she knew crying wouldn't do her any good. "There, there, Little Ayeka." The Nanny said soothingly. "Nanny's gonna get you and your sisters all clean." The Nanny brought the five to a decently sized bathtub and stripped all of them naked. Kiyone attempted to resist, but Nanny simply subdued her with some tickling. Once the five were in the tub, Nanny got to work. First, she gently poured water onto them. She then took a loofah and rubbed some wet soap onto it. After that, she gently scrubbed the girls clean, getting into every nook and cranny, embarrassing everyone but Ryoko and Washu. The Nanny then applied shampoo to Ryoko, Kiyone, Mihoshi, and Washu's hair, and her extra arms began massaging and cleaning their hair respective to how much was left. Ayeka just pouted, largely due to her bald head. Noticing this, the Nanny gave Ayeka a rubber duck that she glumly played with. Before too long, Ryoko was finished and also got a rubber duck. Kiyone got one soon after, and after a bit longer, Mihoshi got one. However, when Washu's hair was cleaned, the Nanny picked the five up again and made sure to dry them before they each got powdered and put in new cloth diapers. They were then put into new bonnets, bibs, booties, and mittens before the Nanny picked them all up once more and headed back to the nursery. "Nap time." The Nanny said soothingly, embarrassing Ayeka while Ryoko was already getting bleary eyed. The Nanny then brought the girls to the Robot Nurse Maids and set the five down in their respective ones. As such as she did that, the Nurse Maids began singing Rock-a-bye Baby and gently swaying back and forth. Already conditioned to go to sleep upon hearing lullabies throughout their troubles with Washu's inventions, each of the girls fell asleep almost immediately. The Nanny then put the girls' pacifiers into their mouths and tidied up the nursery. After an hour or so, the girls woke up, and the Nanny wasted no time in putting them on the playmat to crawl around. Their walkers seemed to have been put away. Washu shrugged and was about to mess with the coding of the automatic bathtub to make it gentler when she felt a familiar pressure in her bladder. Before she could even summon her laptop, she wet her diaper. Knowing there was no other recourse, Washu immediately began crying. She also heard Ryoko, Ayeka, Mihoshi, and Kiyone follow suit, which really caught the Nanny's attention. "Aw..." The Robot Nanny cooed. "Did the babies have some accidents. Don't worry. Nanny makes it better." The Nanny produced innumerable extra arms that turned each girl onto their back. This time, the Nanny's main arms were focused on Washu. Each of their diapers were removed and dropped down a chute before they were all thoroughly cleaned by a wet wipe, making Ayeka cry even harder, and Ryoko just giggled at the sensation. Next, the Nanny set down two of the extra large diapers for each girl and used her extra arms to rain baby powder on everyone's butts, groins, and stomachs. Once their midsections and pelvises were practically covered in baby powder, the Nanny wrapped each girl's pelvis with two of the extra large cloth diapers, which caused their legs to jut out and away from each other, giving each girl a bow-legged appearance. The Nanny then put each girl in their respective robotic baby walkers, but this time, thanks to the extra diapers, they had difficulty doing more than moving it from side to side. "Now you girls be good." The Nanny said. "We still have four and a half days together." At this, Ayeka immediately began crying and desperately trying to get out of her walker, but she was clamped in, and her pacifier was shoved back into her mouth, causing her to stop crying and go back to sucking on it. With that, the five girls continued fooling around with the arms of the walkers, Ryoko using hers to pinch Ayeka, which in turn got her spanked again. Kiyone sighed. She already knew that this was going to be her routine, and she had already stopped fighting it, so instead she decided to see what she could make with the blocks. Four and a half days later, Mihoshi was wiggling her fingers. It felt good to be fully adult again, except for the fact that she, Kiyone, Washu, Ryoko, and Ayeka were still wearing their diapers under their clothes to avoid any accidents. Kiyone, in particular, seemed nervous about this, probably because these diapers were big enough to make a subtle impression on her and Mihoshi's pants. However, other than that, their hair, teeth, figures, and teeth were perfectly normal again, thanks to Washu. "Well," Ayeka began. "I think we would all do very well to call it even all around." "That sounds fair." Kiyone agreed. "Otherwise, we'd need Nanny to follow me and Mihoshi to work." "Yeah," Ryoko sighed. "But all in all, I'd call the past couple weeks a success." "Me too." Washu added. "Now let’s get out of here! I have a hankering for actual food!" "Oh yes!" Mihoshi said excitedly. "Me too!" The five arrived out of the lab as Ayeka's little sister, Sasami, looked at them with her pink eyes and her long teal hair. She seemed both worried and confused by their sudden arrival. Ayeka blushed and hoped Sasami didn't notice anything compromising at dinner. "Where have you been doing all week?" Sasami asked in confusion. "Learning how to care for babies from Washu." Ryoko said simply. "Oh." Sasami said. "Well, I'm glad you're done. It's lonely here with Tenchi away." "Don’t worry, Sasami." Ayeka said, smiling. "We're all here and ready to have a nice civil meal together." The six sat down and began eating talking about old times and laughing. Washu looked at her lab as the Robot Nanny poked her head out. Washu winked at her, and the Nanny smiled and waved. The End?