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Baby Talk
Let your baby side show.
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Richard is at the Designation Office and is asked to step to the side where we learn a little more about the society and the people in it. --- I am only able to write as much as I do thanks to the generosity and support of my subscribers. Writing is my only source of income and it is because of these people that I am able to do that. It allows me to keep the lights on and puts food in my fridge. My subscribers get early access to all my stories, and access to around 30 EXCLUSIVE stories that are only available for my subscribers along with other benefits. If you are interested in supporting me and getting these benefits please consider checking out one of my subscriber pages. Thank you ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- “Next!” The woman who had just helped the young man, now sitting at the far wall and talking to another stranger, looked up and smiled Richard’s way. “Hi.” Richard said with what he hoped was a friendly smile. “Name please.” The woman replied. Richard didn’t take offence, she was clearly very busy and needed to be as efficient as possible. “Richard Divey” Richard said. The young woman started tapping on the keyboard. Richard was hoping for that same smile that greeted the last person she had seen, but it wasn’t forthcoming. Instead of waving him off to the side, she kept typing, frowning a little, and then typing some more. The longer she remained silent the more anxious Richard was becoming. Richard was about to ask if everything was alright when a door at the side of the lobby slammed open. There were shouts and exclamations, the sounds of feet dragging on the floor and a struggle as two burly men appeared, pulling a smaller man into the lobby. The room fell into a hushed silence as it seemed everyone turned to look. “Get off me! No! There’s been a mistake!” The man was being practically wrestled into the lobby. Richard finally got a good look at him through the crowd and gasped. The young man was thickly diapered with nothing but an infantile red shirt covering his upper half. He was still swearing and lashing out as the doors opened again and a man and woman walked out. The woman was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue whilst the husband had an arm around her waist looking very stoic. “Mom! You know this isn’t right!” The young man yelled. “I… Baby…” The mother didn’t seem to know what to say and fell into more sobbing. The man and his parents were soon dragged out of the lobby and to the front door. Richard heard him pleading and begging for a second chance all the way until the door closed. He swallowed and turned to face forwards again. “Apologies for that.” The woman at the computer said, “As I’m sure you can understand, some people are less than pleased about their designation.” “Yeah…” Richard was shaken. He just wanted to get his Big designation and leave. He didn’t even want to stick around for the certificate, they could mail it to him. “One moment, please.” The woman said as she picked up a phone and pressed a few numbers. “Is there a problem?” Richard asked. The confidence he had walked in with had eked away the longer he remained in the building. “Yes, I’ve got a Divey here. Richard Divey… Yeah, just asking about the numbers on his file because… Uh huh… Yeah…” The woman was talking on the phone and clicking around the screen occasionally, “And they’ve been double checked?” Richard tried to ignore the anxiety that was twisting at his guts. She might’ve needed to clarify the numbers for any reason, he tried to convince himself, maybe they’re surprisingly good or something… “OK, thank you.” The woman put the phone down and turned to face the computer again. She typed a few things and Richard waited, “Alright, Richard, could you go and sit over there please.” Richard turned to see where the woman was pointing. It was the opposite direction to the young man who had been given the easy pass. The area the woman pointed to was where most of the young men and women were ending up, sitting and waiting to be called forwards through the doors beyond. “I… haven’t failed, have I?” Richard asked. A lump forming in his throat. “There is no passing or failing.” The woman’s professional smile was back, “Please, take a seat and you’ll be called in shortly.” “It’s ju-…” Richard started. “Next!” The woman called out. Richard backed away from the desk. He looked over to where the young man had been sat, he was already gone. Turning to face forwards, Richard took a deep breath and walked over to the bigger waiting area. There were a dozen people already sitting in the area that was screened from most of the lobby by cubicle dividers. Richard walked to an empty seat and sat down opposite a large television. He felt a little more at ease when he saw how many people there were, and how many of them weren’t too concerned. This was the usual process, not many people were designated Big or Little right away, most had to have at least a little testing and checking. At least he hoped that was the case. “Quite a scene, huh?” A woman said to Richard. She jerked her head back to where the Little had just been dragged out of the building. “Yeah…” Richard replied. He gave the woman his name. “Sandy.” The woman replied, “Well, at least it gives us a better chance, right?” “Does it?” Richard asked. “Yeah.” Sandy replied. She put her feet up on a table that had a pile of magazines on it, “Not many are made Little…” “Two percent, I think.” Richard muttered. “Exactly.” Sandy stretched out and yawned, “So they should see fifty of us before there’s another one.” Richard knew that odds didn’t work like that. However, it was a comforting thing to believe so he let himself fall into the comforting grasp of math that didn’t really make sense. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to his parents saying that he might be a little while. They had to tell Kate, Richard’s fifteen-year-old sister, what was going on. After the text was sent, Richard continued talking to Sandy for a little bit, he learnt that they shared the exact same birthday. “Sandy Freeman.” A bearded man had opened the door and called at the name. “That’s me.” Sandy said as she stood up. She looked down at Richard, “Good luck.” “You too.” Richard replied. Another person offering him luck… With nothing else to distract him, Richard turned to the television which seemed to be playing a dull informational video about what was going on. It had just looped to the start and a man in a suit, standing in front of a blue background was smiling at the camera. A graphic popped up showing his name to be Frederick Kline, apparently the Minister responsible for Designation. “Hello, I hope you are having a good day and an enjoyable experience in the Designation Office.” Frederick said. Richard scoffed, “This department has existed for over twenty years now and has resulted in the reduction of unemployment, a reduction in wastage and, most importantly, a reduction in crime.” Richard sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. These were the same justifications he had heard many times before, he knew there were opponents of the system that disagreed, but he didn’t care about politics. Any time someone started discussing anything vaguely political his eyes would glaze over. They started doing it right there in the waiting room, but he stared at the screen regardless, it wasn’t like he had much else to do. “When the government of the time published the Case Review, named after the Review’s organiser, Hattie Case, it sent shockwaves through society. It showed that certain behaviours could be predicted by looking at things such as grades and childhood behaviour. Furthermore, it suggested that some people benefitted from a reduction in responsibilities to make them happier, and their community safer.” If there was one thing Richard was aware of, it was that the Case Review wasn’t necessarily all it was cracked up to be. He knew the government relied on it and referenced it often, but he also knew that people had long held that the Review was flawed or biased. He didn’t know the reasons for the arguments though. “The government decided that radical action was required. After much debate, the Designation Department was opened up as a new office of state. It was charged with making society safer, a job it has taken very seriously ever since it’s formation. Thus, we have developed tests that can decide where best to categorise everyone when they reach the age of eighteen.” Frederick’s smile was strangely unnatural in the way that all politicians looked like they had to be taught how to do it as an adult, “If you are watching this, chances are you are currently in a Designation Office and soon to find your own place in our society, either as a Little or a Big.” Another man, with grey hair and bushy eyebrows, opened the door and called another person through to an office. Richard watched him go and wondered if the same thoughts that were occupying him was also going through the others’ heads. “It is important to remember that whether Big or Little, you are still considered an equal citizen. There is no…” Frederick paused, apparently looking for the right words, “Wrong way to be. Being designated a Little shouldn’t be viewed as a failure or bad thing, the same way that being designated a Big isn’t a success. It is simply who you were meant to be…” Richard’s mouth twisted in a small wry smile. He looked around and saw some of the others having similar reactions to the last piece of information. Richard shook his head and stopped paying attention to the TV. Everyone wanted to avoid being designated as a Little like the plague. It was for good reason. Frederick Kline may have said that everyone was still considered “equal”, but it seemed very much like some were more equal than others. Littles were forcibly stripped of their adult responsibilities. They weren’t allowed jobs, or to live on their own. From the moment of their designation, they were no longer considered an adult. Richard had seen documentaries and government produced propaganda showing Littles and it made his skin crawl to think about it. Kept in a permanent state of babyhood for the rest of his life, with no chance at appealing the decision or getting a reprieve. It would surely feel like getting a life sentence in prison. Many of Richard’s friends had spent a lot of time over the previous few years trying to sus out how the system worked to make sure they were safe. The simple fact was that nobody knew exactly what factors were taking into account, what numbers were plugged into the algorithm, or anything else. There were just rumours and suggestions. Their teachers would always stress how important grades would be to your designation, commercials for local sport would talk about how important those activities were to have on record. It felt like as long as Richard could remember he had been hearing people tell him how to get designated as a Big. “Strange…” Richard muttered to himself as he looked up at the ceiling, “How being Little is apparently fine and yet everyone is trying to tell you how to avoid it…” “Richard Divey.” The voice made Richard jump as he quickly stood up. Standing at the door with a clipboard was a young woman who seemed to be only a year or two older than Richard. As he approached, he saw that she had a nametag that said her name was Zoe. She gave him a professional smile and held the door open for him to step through. “Third door on the left, Richard.” Zoe said. --- If you liked this update and want to see the next update RIGHT NOW you can do so here: https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/mozb40hx8a1381/chapter/mpjlffindc0b642 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2506320 -
It's 5:15am Sunday morning and I wet my Little Kings diaper multiple times during the night followed by a mess in my diaper just now. -
By Kitty Angel · Posted
52. My Lapse in Judgement Since Tess’s arrival, my life had been marked by a number of little milestones. She was slowly adapting to being my little, coming closer to accepting how she was going to live. The next one had come that Wednesday night; the first time she had the courage to ask for me to say the trigger phrase while Ffrances was there. We’d both been there the first time, obviously, but that barely counted because Ffrances had told her she would have an accident that night, and so she’d been unable to remember it. This time, she had come down and asked us to tell her that she wouldn’t have an accident because she was thinking about an upcoming music exam. She said that she didn’t want to be restless, waking up in the night. Ffrances complimented her then, for having the courage to ask for what she really needed. But I was pretty sure Tess didn’t quite understand why the response was so positive. To Ffrances, I was sure, the little girl who really wanted to relieve some of her tension by wetting her bed like a toddler knew that it would be better if she was feeling her real age in the morning, and was taking precautions against her urge to ask for the other trigger later. In the morning, of course, she was lively and ready to start the day. And a lot less reluctant to talk about the problems she’d been having, as a result of the pride that a young girl always felt on waking up dry. Thursday, during the day at least, was a day devoid of anything noteworthy. I read a new chapter of The Baby Button on my phone, to preserve my privacy, and speculated that Little Sister had been updating her magnum opus a lot less frequently in the last few weeks. I spent several hours in video conferences, and on hold with various companies that we were working with, but the most I actually achieved was a whole string of appointments the following day to speak to the people who I really needed to do their jobs. That was why, by the time I arrived home, I was already feeling a little frustrated. Sitting with Ffrances in front of the television made me feel a whole lot better. There wasn’t anything new that we particularly wanted to watch, and it didn’t seem fair to break out one of the ancient video CDs based on MK’s comics when Tess was busy upstairs with her homework, so we settled for rewatching a bunch of old episodes of Live From Palmerston!. I think it was me who said that the show could have been a metaphor for our lives, which sounded like a very deep and philosophical insight. Right up to the moment where Ffrances asked what we had in common with a group of comedians on a road trip. I didn’t actually have an answer to that. “Well Lysette is clearly a fictionalised version of me,” I speculated, half an episode later. On the screen, Lysette was screaming abuse at the world in general, although most of her anger was devoted to a station wagon as old as she was, which was yet again refusing to start. “You blame your problems on everybody else?” “No!” I pouted theatrically. “Because I’ve got an awesome fiancé and a shitty car.” “Valid,” Ffrances nodded. “Although to have a fiancée, you technically need to be engaged. And that requires a ring, doesn’t it?” “I guess,” I mumbled. It was one thing we’d never particularly bothered about, and it didn’t bother me that much whether we were going to end up married or not. I knew we would be together forever no matter what. “You could get me a collar? I mean, that’s almost the same thing.” Tess joined us a few minutes later, the dreaded homework monster slain for another day. Much to my annoyance, she didn’t object when I said that I shared more than a few qualities with Lysette; instead speculating about which characters she and Ffrances might have some symbolic link to. We got so deeply into that conversation that I barely paid any attention when we got around to the new episode for this week, and couldn’t remember afterwards what new obstacles were thwarting the journey to Palmerston, Oregon this week. But then again, that might have been because I’d been drinking a little more than I otherwise should have done so early in the evening. I told myself that it wasn’t because I’d had a stressful day. I was enjoying spending time with my girlfriend and my little, and there was nothing at all wrong with being just slightly tipsy. It was a decision I was free to make, and I certainly didn’t have any urge to drink to get over my problems. We carried on chatting, even after Ffrances declared that she would have to take an early night because she had a long day ahead of her. I was expecting I would have a lot of work tomorrow as well, but I couldn’t sacrifice the opportunity to spend time with my little. After we switched the TV off, we talked a little more about the comic series that Ffrances had gotten us both addicted to. We were enjoying different parts of a huge franchise, and it turned out that both of us knew some details we could tease each other with, becoming interested in finding out more about the parts that the other was currently reading. After a while, I started to realise that Tess was marking time. Like there was something she wanted to say, but she was having trouble coming out with it. But eventually she got there. “Listen, I know I only asked yesterday. But could you… like…” I nodded slowly. She wanted not to wake up to a wet bed again. I knew that before she said it, but I wanted her to hesitate a little more. If she was asking too often, Ffrances would begin to suspect that she didn’t actually enjoy waking up wet, and that would make it so much harder to get the hypnotic suggestions reinforced. Tess had to remain just a little nervous about asking for help, and I thought that two days in a row might be a little too much for her. Still, she seemed to be genuinely concerned, and I would much rather have a happy little. So I thought about what I was going to say all the time while she mumbled her way through the request. “You won’t have an accident in your sleep tonight,” I told her. “But you’re going to have an accident after you wake up in the morning.” I took a deep breath and watched her face carefully; or as closely as I could in the circumstances. I still had no idea about the precise wording Ffrances had used to give the suggestion, so my mind was racing to make sure I had an excuse ready. Just in case she wanted to know why I had said that. “Thanks,” Tess nodded and smiled. “I’d best get to bed, I think. And you should read the Martyr’s Glove arc next, if you have the time. Don’t forget.” I said I would, and waved after her. I was sure I must be grinning too broadly, but she didn’t seem to have noticed. When I’d told her to have an accident, she had acted like I said nothing. Like I’d just said what she expected to hear. Just like the first time she’d been triggered to have a little accident in the night. If that was how her subconscious interpreted the suggestion, I thought there was a good chance she would be waking up wet. But I couldn’t congratulate myself too much just yet. I glanced at the clock, and realised that I really should have been in bed a couple of hours before. I climbed the stairs slowly, hoping there was still time to be fully rested before the morning. “What kept you?” Ffrances mumbled when I climbed into bed. “I thought you would be asleep already. Didn’t you have a busy day tomorrow?” “No, you do,” she answered, giving me a moment of confusion. “You’re drunk, babe. You needed to get to bed, you already told me how much you have to do tomorrow.” “But you said you wanted sleep.” “No, I said I wanted bed. I gave you enough hints, if you’d been able to pick up on them. I hoped that might get you up here sooner, without having to feel bad about leaving Tess to her own devices.” “Oh. I… missed all that, sorry. But she wanted a trigger, anyway. She… I think she’s getting embarrassed.” I found that as soon as I started talking, my imagination kicked in, and I knew exactly the right thing to say. “She wants to wake up wet, let her relax and feel childish after being a big girl for her violin exam. But she’s embarrassed again, because it’s not been too long since last time. She made me promise to tell you that she’d asked for another dry-night trigger if you asked.” “I won’t mention it to her,” she said. “If she knows to be cautious, I think she can regulate herself. Better than you can. But it’s probably easier if I sleep late tomorrow. I get a long weekend, I think, so I might stay in bed until after she’s gone to school. You’ll have to wear me out so I sleep deeply. I was going to question that, but then I felt her index finger resting in the centre of my forehead. The post-hypnotic trigger that would make me helplessly obey my Mistress’s commands. And I knew that we were both going to sleep very well tonight. -
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I'm curious to see what all this is about. That sounds interesting. -
By Kitty Angel · Posted
53. Grown-up Responsibilities “Morning, baby,” Gabby said with a smile. She was using that greeting more and more often; Tess almost felt like she had to start believing in intuition. She couldn't be sure, but it seemed like the word ‘baby’ came out a lot more often on days when she‘d woken to a wet diaper. She couldn‘t argue, anyway. If she denied it, there would always be some way Gabby could tell. And getting caught in a lie was a hundred times more embarrassing than a single word that she had almost learned to ignore. The best she could hope for was if Gabby assumed it had been the same as every previous time. She didn't even want to think about what had happened this morning. “Did you sleep well?” Gabby asked while she was serving up breakfast. Tess was about to answer when she realised that it could be a trick question. Gabby had been so nice, and tried to help her, but she still had to try to keep her secret. There was no way she could let an adult know about the latest speed bump on her road back to normality. “Well enough. You?” “Pretty good. I’ve got a lazy day today, so might try cleaning the house this morning. Less rush later in the week. Do I need to empty your bin and let the vacuum in?” “No,” Tess shook her head, and went back to eating. And that much was true; there was no urgent need to empty the bin in her room. But she was starting to think she hadn’t been as clever as she had thought in disposing of a wet diaper. Gabby would notice from the weight if she went to empty the bathroom bin today, and there were bound to be questions. “No, my room’s fine. But you should empty the bathroom bin. Sorry.” “Nothing to apologise for. So long as I know what needs doing, it will be done. But I gather from that blush that my baby didn’t quite sleep soundly last night. Or… a little too soundly, I think you said.” “Yeah. It’s still embarrassing.” “I said the trigger last night, didn’t I?” That was when Tess froze, the fork stopping halfway to her mouth with its payload of delicious fried mushrooms. She hadn’t even thought about that. Would Gabby stop telling her not to have accidents, if she thought that the trigger phrase was no longer working? That was one consequence that she hadn’t even thought about. “I suppose it can’t work every time,” Gabby continued to muse. “But I was thinking that it had proved pretty effective for you. If it doesn’t always work, I guess that opens the possibility that there might be a physical problem. Would you like me to sort out an appointment so we can tell a doctor all about this?” “No!” Tess gasped. The thought of sharing her shameful secret was still terrifying; and she knew that the hypnosis had worked perfectly, even if she couldn’t share that with Gabby. She had to come up with some alternate explanation, if she didn’t want to say what had actually happened. “No, I mean… I think it might be my fault this time. I drank too much last night. I wasn’t paying as much attention, and I think I had more wine than you realised. That can cause… problems even for adults, right? Hypnosis works with the mind, so it can’t overcome problems with your brain. I just need to show more restraint.” “That’s a very responsible thing to say. And I think I know you well enough to know you don’t make the same mistake twice. But promise me, if the hypnosis lets you down again, you’ll let me know? I don’t want you to be relying on something that doesn’t really help.” “I promise. But…” Tess took a deep breath. After all the problems she’d had, she wondered if this might be a valid excuse to experiment with the hypnosis a little more. She knew that she couldn’t let her cousin know what was actually on her mind, but as soon as she opened her mouth a believable explanation came spilling out: “Actually, could you let Ffrances know I’d like to… talk to her about that again? I’m wondering if it might be possible to… I don’t know, change the suggestion so that it helps me to notice when I’m drinking too much. I think there’s a way it might be improved, but I don’t know how good my understanding of the science is. So I’d like to talk to the expert, when it’s convenient.” “Of course. If there’s anything we can do to help you, you know we will.” Tess nodded, and didn’t say anything else. She still wasn’t sure if she needed help, but she knew that it would be better to ask, just in case. If this happened again, she would be consumed by embarrassment so much that it would be difficult to talk about it at all. And, right now, there was no way for Gabby to guess at anything out of the ordinary. “Thanks,” she said again, finally polishing off the last of her breakfast. She wasn’t in any real rush to get ready for school, but she was glad to have avoided completely embarrassing herself. And then she remembered one of the messages she had seen on Clatter this morning, just before she’d been distracted. She should probably talk to Gabby now rather than later. “Is it okay if I’m late back tonight? It’s a friend’s birthday.” “A friend I know?” Gabby snapped back, and Tess didn’t know how she was supposed to answer that. She should have given a name right away, and the fact that she hadn’t made it pretty clear that she knew Gabby would disapprove. “Let me guess… you’re going to visit a boy. This Spike guy?” “No… yes. Well, we’re going to the cinema. He asked a bunch of friends. It’s not like we’ll be at his house or anything. It’s not like…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence with ‘a date’, because there was still a part of her that didn’t want to completely rule out the possibility. “Well, I’m not going to stop you having a good time with your friends. But let me know where you will be, understand? And what time to expect you home. And I hope you’re not letting your hormones run away with you. Emotions can make you careless, you know? If he tries to kiss you or touch you, you’re going to have an accident, and I know that’s not what you want.” “Gabby, you’re not my mum. And Spike isn’t like that, he’s a good friend. Okay?” “It’s hard for me to trust that kind of boy, but I’m sure I can trust your judgement. So don’t let me down, okay? And let me know when you expect to be home.” By then quite a few minutes had passed, and Tess knew she needed to rush to get everything ready before school. Ten minutes later she was out of the door, feeling a whole lot better about the day. She knew that some things had gone wrong, but she had kept her secret and she had Gabby’s reluctant approval for her plans. There was nothing else she needed to worry about.
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