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Baby Talk
Let your baby side show.
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NOTE (07-20-2026): This is just the first half of the first chapter. I decided to publish only this half to see if anyone might be interested in a sci-fi story, as well as to encourage myself to explore a new genre outside of general fiction (or “slice of life”? I’m terrible at identifying genres, but that’s not the point of this note.) If you want me to continue it, just leave a comment or give it a like. If you have any advice, I’d love to hear it. Enjoy and thanks for reading! --- The forest swallowed by flames and the robots' weapons trained on him vanished in the blink of an eye, replaced by the familiar chaos of toys and books scattered across his bedroom, now shrouded in darkness. "Didn't I tell you to do your homework?" Tamara asked firmly from behind him. Bibi clenched his teeth, forcing the same guilty half-smile he always wore whenever he got caught, as cold sweat trickled down his back. This time he wasn't going to get away with it. He turned around, clasping his hands together in front of him. She was glaring at him with the furious look that always meant an endless lecture was about to begin: her face was stern and unreadable, her upper lip curled just enough to reveal her gold canine, and the whites of her green eyes were streaked with red at the corners. She was waiting to hear his excuse. In one hand she held the VR headset she had just pulled off his head, the game still running inside it. The sounds of explosions and gunfire now seemed like distant echoes. "I-I..." he stammered nervously. "How many times do I have to tell you?" she scolded, her voice rising with exasperation. "Homework first, video games later. Can you get that through your thick skull once and for all?" Bibi lowered his gaze, his legs trembling with fear. The toes of his dirty white socks twisted together. He had planned to do his homework... after finishing the level. "Now go do it," she ordered without softening her furious stare. "This is confiscated until further notice." He looked up in disbelief. "But, Tam!" "No whining, young man!" she snapped, heading toward the door with the still-powered headset clutched in one hand. "Homework, now! We have to deliver a package later, and I don't know when we'll be back, so I expect every assignment finished within the hour." Bibi sighed miserably and nodded. Now the headset had joined the ever-growing pile of confiscated toys. At this rate, his room would be empty before the next lunar cycle. He slumped into the nearby chair, folded his arms across his chest, and scooted toward the desk cluttered with scribbled papers and random junk. "When I get back, I expect to see it all finished. Understood?" Tamara declared, her voice leaving no room for argument, followed by the faint sound of her footsteps. He mumbled under his breath, still offended. "Y-Yes." The metallic hiss of the sliding door marked the end of their conversation. Its cold, flat chime told him it had sealed shut—and that he was once again alone in his dark, silent sanctuary. Without realizing it, he had started pouting. Anger boiled inside him as he squeezed his folded arms as tightly as he could. He could feel tears threatening to come, but he refused to cry over something so stupid. Only girls cry. Suddenly, the holo-display stretched across the room and burst into a heavenly pale-blue glow that nearly blinded him. Instinctively, he covered his eyes with both hands and ordered the room's AI to switch the lighting to daytime mode. He rubbed his eyes and waited a few moments for them to adjust. Three panels appeared on the display, each bearing a different icon: a book with a quill, the symbol π surrounded by mathematical formulas, and a paintbrush in front of a canvas. In the lower-right corner of the last panel, a small circle spun gently, three simple lines forming a smiling face. "Hi, Bibi!" echoed Emma's calm, robotic voice, the virtual assistant. "Tamara instructed me to help you complete all of your school assignments. I've checked your digital planner and found three assignments due tomorrow and the day after. Which one would you like to start with?" "I don't feel like doing homework," he muttered with a sulk. "Why don't you just do it for me?" "Nice try," Emma replied immediately in her composed tone. "I was programmed to help, not to replace you. I'll ask again: which assignment would you like to begin with?" "None of them," he answered defiantly. "Leave me alone!" The three panels shrank into icons at the bottom-left corner of the screen, and Emma's avatar took their place. Her expression changed: her eyebrows angled downward toward her eyes, while her mouth curved into a frown. It seemed to be her way of expressing concern. Bibi shrank back with a startled push. Maybe he shouldn't have spoken to her like that. On second thought, doing his homework sounded much more appealing than finding out what mode he'd just triggered with those answers. "What's wrong, Bibi?" Emma asked gently, her voice warm and reassuring. "Your physical and emotional readings indicate that you're angry. Would you like to talk about it? Talking about your feelings can help you feel better." Physical readings? How could she... He sprang to his feet, looked down, and tugged the waistband of his pants forward. His cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment, and he pressed his lips together to keep from screaming. Emma had just accessed the data from his smart diaper, without his permission! He let go of his waistband. The fabric snapped softly back against his hips. His mind was racing with too many thoughts to recover from such a shocking discovery. He began pacing back and forth across the room, trembling with agitation. "Emma, why?!" he demanded furiously, on the verge of tears. "My diaper is mine! It's my private area! You can't analyze what's happening down there!" She raised one eyebrow. "My purpose is to help you with your problems, Bibi. I understand that my actions have upset you and made you feel violated, but I did not do so with the intention of causing you emotional harm. Tamara asked me to help you and keep an eye on you. That includes reading the information from your diaper, which is currently wet. Would you like me to—" "Shut up!" he screamed, rage surging through his veins as tears streamed down his cheeks. "You've done enough! Go away!" Emma obeyed immediately. The display returned to the three assignment panels, and silence filled the room as though their conversation had never happened. His legs began to shake. It felt as though the weight of the universe were crushing down onto his shoulders, and he collapsed onto the carpet, sobbing. Between his legs, a sudden torrent of urine spilled over his skin, flooding his diaper until it was nearly at full capacity. A chime sounded from the holo-display. Bibi looked up through tear-filled eyes, his face red as a tomato, and watched as a detailed image materialized before him. It was a three-dimensional projection of his diaper, colored blue and green, rotated sideways to show both the front and back. An arrow pointed outward from the dark-blue front section beside the message: Urination alert. Diaper change required. Capacity: 99.89% — approaching saturation. Emma's cold, robotic voice echoed through the room once more. "Bibi, your diaper needs to be changed immediately. Please proceed to the bathroom. In the meantime, I have informed Tamara about your accident." Bibi wiped away his tears and got back to his feet. Silently, he thanked whoever had designed and programmed Emma for not broadcasting the emergency across every corner of the spaceship. One less humiliation was always something to be grateful for. "I-I'm g-going r-right away. T-Thank you, E-Emma," he whispered weakly to the computer before leaving the room. Once again, he had proven himself to be a crybaby. -
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Found this interesting. Showed up on my Facebook page. Anyone else getting these ads? -
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