PeculiarChangeling

Chapter 23 - Power “Just like that–yeah, don’t you move, stay just like that.” Melody felt deep satisfaction as she railed the goth girl over the arm of her couch with a strapless strap. One end firmly inside her, held in place by strong kegel muscles, while the other end thrust into… (Bubbles, I think? Was that her name, or just her username?) It didn’t particularly matter. She was cute, and she made the best whimpering noises when she had her legs spread. Melody had expected this to be a more mutual exchange, scissoring and fingering one another, but she’d been struck with a surge of dominant energy on the drive to Bubbles’(?) apartment. Bubbles hadn’t seemed to mind–Melody had come in, top energy shining, and now she had an eager, moaning girl splayed out below her. She wasn’t thinking about Bubbles. Melody’s mind had thoughts only for Skip. (It must be humiliating, but they asked for it, didn’t they?) (To be stuck at home, waiting on me to get back, while I’m out fucking a stranger.) (Powerless.) “Fuck yes,” she whispered, riding another climax as the girl squirmed beneath her. … Melody wandered in the back door, high on post-coital bliss and a power thrill she’d rarely had the joy of experiencing. She found herself tempted to linger, just to draw things out for a few more moments. Skip wasn’t going anywhere, after all, not without her. She could hear the sound of the TV playing across the house, she could join them for a bit, then wander up to Skip’s room at her own leisure–so long as they knew she was doing it. Slipping her phone from a pocket, she shot Skip a text. ‘I just got home.’ The reply text came quickly, as she’d expected. She’d barely had time to get a cup of water before she read, ‘We’re all in the living room.’ (We?) She raised an eyebrow at her phone, then turned and walked to the TV sounds. The lights were on, a few candles had been lit on the coffee table, and some kind of youtube video played on the TV. Pearce wasn’t present, but the rest of the Wasters were gathered, half paying attention to the show. On the couch, sitting across from Grace, Skip had two blankets over their lap and a smile on their face. Melody’s first assumption was that they’d changed without permission, but a sniff disproved that guess–beneath the candles, a faint foul note hung in the air. Brains, sitting on a comfy chair next to the couch, leaned over to pick up the remote and waved at Melody. “Heya, we’re watching shitposts. Want to join us?” Melody surveyed the scene, her gaze ending on Skip. They locked eyes and Skip blushed faintly, wearing an expression with a distinct resemblance to someone who’d been caught masturbating. “I’d love to,” Melody said, “But it smells like someone needs a fresh diaper, so I’d better take care of that. Skip?” The subtle blush on Skip’s cheeks saturated into full color and they shrank back for a moment before nodding and moving the blankets off their lap. The smell grew a bit, though Melody was more interested by the snug jeans Skip had dressed in, which only emphasized their curves. “I–yeah.” “See,” Grace said, “It’s obviously not me.” “You can’t blame Pearce for assuming,” Brains interjected. “It’s usually you.” Melody waited a moment to be sure Skip was following, then turned and went up the stairs. “What was that about?” “I…” Skip started. “Just a mixup.” At the top of the stairs, Melody stopped and turned. Skip was normally taller than her, but just then, they were on a lower step and had to look up to meet her gaze. “Tell me what happened.” Skip looked down at their toes. “Pearce came down while we had the movie on, and…” Their blush completed the story, but Melody wasn’t about to let the moment go to waste. Crossing her arms over her chest, she asked, “And?” “And…he made Grace stand up and said she needed a change. She said she didn’t, it was me, and…” Skip’s flush burned all the way up to their forehead and they shrank away. “He got us mixed up.” Melody leaned in, so that her face was right in Skip’s. “Is that how you tell a story? Do it properly. What happened?” “I…” Skip started, taking a deep breath for courage. “He said, ‘Sweetheart, I could smell your dirty diaper from upstairs, there’s no use fibbing.’ She insisted it wasn’t her, and…he made her turn around so he could check her, and squeezed her diaper, and started to say ‘There’s no point pretending you’re not…’, and I think he was going to say ‘a baby.’” Melody grinned. “But she wasn’t lying. He didn’t know that it wasn’t a baby he was smelling, but a little bratty sub who couldn’t stay out of trouble.” Skip nodded, then their eyes widened at their own agreement. “I–” “Come on,” Melody said, taking their hand and pulling Skip up to her level at the top of the stairs. They followed, led like a reluctant puppy on a leash, and she got them into her bedroom. “Now…are you going to tell me how you’re feeling?” Skip hesitated, standing by the closed door. “What?” “I want to know what’s going on in here,” Melody explained, pointing to their head. “While you’re feeling it. Is this everything you wanted it to be?” “It’s…I didn’t want it to be anything,” Skip lied, the statement as weak and obviously false as if they’d said they were a space alien. Melody didn’t call them out on it directly. If they wanted her to push, she’d push. Stepping up to Skip, she wrapped her arms around their body in a hug and let one hand drift downward so that she could squeeze the seat of their diaper. She expected something more dramatic, like squeezing one of those water wiggler toys that’d been huge in middle school. Instead, it felt mostly like jeans, just with a bit more weight and bulk and a subtle squish behind it. Not impossible to tell, but not a blaring alarm either. What did change dramatically was Skip themself. They blushed and squirmed and a whimper escaped their lips like a submissive in the middle of being edged. Not the wriggling of someone handling something unpleasant, but a reaction to humiliating pleasure. “Be honest,” Melody said. “You didn’t really have an accident, did you?” Skip shook their head and chewed on their lip. “No.” “You waited until you heard me leaving, didn’t you?” Melody pressed on, forcing the confession out of them. Her hand still rested on the back of their jeans, ready to squeeze, fingers prepared to play Skip like a piano. Skip nodded. “Yes.” “So you didn’t just want to use your diaper,” Melody deduced. “You wanted to be trapped. You wanted to have to wait. You wanted everyone to know what a stinker you are, didn’t you?” Shaking their head quickly, Skip started to deny it, but when Melody tensed her fingers, their resistance melted. “Mmm…” Sliding her hand up, Melody hooked a thumb around the waistband of their diaper and pulled it out to check them, as though she needed any more evidence. “You think I can’t tell?” They shook their head, then nodded, then froze in uncertainty. “I…” Melody’s smile grew. “You?” “I wanted to ruin my night.” Melody blinked. She’d been prepared for any number of responses, truths, lies, in-betweens, but not that. Her eyebrows raised and she stopped trying to make Skip blush, instead using both arms to pull them into a tighter hug. “Oh,” she said. “Skip.” They tensed, then accepted the hug, melting into the embrace. “I…I had plans with Grace and Brains, and I thought…it was going to be worse than it is, and that I’d be stuck in my room, and…” Pulling away, Melody looked at them. “You know we all love you, right?” Skip nodded, and Melody saw that their eyes were shinier than they’d been a moment before. “Fuck.” Melody waited. She didn’t know what they would say next, but wanted to give Skip room to say it. “I didn’t…” Skip started. “I didn’t expect it to be fun.” Melody’s sultry grin returned. “Fun?” “I don’t know.” Skip pulled away and shook their head again. “I really don’t. I feel like I’m enjoying myself. I don’t know why I’m enjoying myself, it doesn’t make sense. This should be awful.” “You wouldn’t be the first person in the world with a diaper kink,” Melody pointed out. “You wouldn’t even be the first person in this house.” “I don’t have kinks,” Skip shot back. “I just don’t have that sort of feeling. This doesn’t make me horny.” “Kink play doesn’t have to lead to sex.” Melody stepped back. “It can, it’s common, but that’s not a rule.” Skip planted their feet and shook their head again, more confident. “It’s not a kink.” “Okay, it’s not a kink,” Melody agreed, nodding. “But…do you want me to change you right away, or should we do a little more research first?” Their renewed blush told her everything she needed to know. ... Support the author, and get early access! https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

Chapter 22 - The Dirty Truth Skip lay on their bed in the dark, listening to the sounds of the house as things bustled downstairs. With their fans off, they could hear everything, like a spider feeling the strands of their web quiver. They stayed in their tangled web, quiet and silent. Brains was in his room, they could hear the rapid tap-tap-tap of a gaming keyboard and occasional low speech in practical, laser-focused tones. Playing a game online. Probably winning. Grace and Pearce were in Pearce’s room, talking. Maybe arguing. Things had stabilized since the bet officially ended, but they still had conflicts, still fought. This didn’t sound like a disagreement, but also didn’t sound like giggling or playtime, so Skip could only speculate. Melody was downstairs, humming and pacing in the kitchen. Skip could faintly smell the coffee, though it was late afternoon on a weekend. A knot had formed in their stomach. Anxiety. They had a plan, a stupid plan, one that would earn them nothing except shame and self-recrimination. They couldn’t define why they wanted to act on the idea, but nor could they put it out of their head. (Nobody will know,) they thought. (They won’t even guess.) Their cheeks didn’t turn red, they would’ve needed light for there to be color on their face, but they felt the warmth bloom as they thought about what they were going to do. (You can always safe word.) (Why am I lying to myself? No I can’t. Not with what matters.) (Just don’t do it.) (Bleh. This is stupid.) Sitting up in bed, they swung their legs over the side and felt their area rug under bare feet. They had dressed light: their diaper sat between their thighs, snug and fresh, smelling faintly of baby powder, the central part of their outfit. Aside from that, a t-shirt and their favorite hoody wrapped around their upper body like a hug, and that was all. It’d been most of a day since Melody’s ultimatum, since they’d maneuvered their way into a far deeper punishment, and in all that time, they had remained fixated on Melody’s threat, or warning, or whatever it could be called. (Say goodbye to your potty privileges. All of them. For the next two weeks, the only thing you’re going to use is your diapers, and when the time is up, you’re going to beg me to let you out of them.) They’d looked over the cliff, realized they didn’t know how deep the water went, and jumped anyway. Now, they were going to do it again. Standing, they shifted their weight, ensuring the floorboards in their room didn’t even creak. They were a ghost, a phantom presence, nobody would know they were up and active. (Last chance to back out, coward.) (Fuck you, I’m doing this.) Closing their eyes, Skip turned and dropped into a low squat, balancing their arms against the bed for stability. They’d spent so long working themselves up that they were worried they wouldn’t be able to do what they needed to do, but their body did what it was told. Face burning hot, they waited a second longer, until they heard a thud, then they began to push. Skip had brought themselves to this, they’d all but asked for it. To be put in a situation where their dignity was gone, and where they could not possibly pretend otherwise. To be degraded. To lose their ability to lie, at least when it came to one particular thing. Now, they were running face-first into that. No starting small, no baby steps, they wanted to ruin themselves. Knees shaking, leaning hard on their mattress for support, Skip emptied the contents of their bowels, filling up their diaper for the first time in two decades. The initial sensation wasn’t so bad. Warmth, soft and firm, that spread inside their padding. A hint of relief as their body cleared itself out, a touch of tension as something in their mind said, (Hey, we’re not on a toilet, this isn’t how we do things!) They suppressed that impulse and kept going. No point in stopping, they had nothing to gain by being shy now. Redoubling their efforts, they pushed, filling the diaper until it sagged. Squatting low, they felt the seat brush against the floor as it drooped, packed with mush that clung to their skin. Physically, it wasn’t so bad. The smell that wafted up and hit their nostrils was unpleasant, an obvious, shameful reminder that lingered in clouds around them, but they weren’t going to gag or flee like a dad in a sitcom who’d been asked to change a dirty diaper. They stank, but they weren’t toxic. The heat that burned in their face, though, that made them want to curl up and hide. They were an idiot. They’d done this to themselves, and now there was no escape. For a long moment, they didn’t move. As long as they stayed in place, squatting low, they could ignore the consequences they’d earned. Once they moved on, they would have to pay the piper. Eventually, their knees began to hurt, and they couldn’t hold the squat anymore. Standing, they scooped up their phone, fingers trembling as they typed out a text. ‘Are you in your room?’ A minute passed, and again they stayed frozen, standing by their bed, staring at the app. When Melody’s text bubble began to move, indicating typing, they held their breath in anticipation. ‘No, I’m out driving, then I’ve got a date. What’s up?’ (Fuck fuck fuck–) Typing too quickly, they sent, ‘When wlli you be back>’ After noticing the typos, they corrected it, and sent a second message. ‘When will you be back?*’ This time, they only had to wait a few seconds, then their phone rang. Yelping, they almost dropped it, but swiped ‘answer’ and lifted the receiver before they could chicken out. “Heyyo,” Melody said. “Driving, didn’t want to wait for a stoplight. What’s up?” “I…” Skip started, uncertain how to make their confession. Fortunately, or not, Melody heard their voice quaver and cut through the conversation with laser focus. “You need a diaper change, don’t you?” She’d known. She’d just heard Skip say one word and she’d known. “I…thought you were home,” they said. “I wanted to get it over with, and…yes. I need a change.” A few seconds of silent uncertainty passed as the wheels turned in Melody’s head. “Wait, you pooped?” Cheeks burning, Skip said, “Yes. It’s…I thought you were in your room!” They froze, listening to the silence on Melody’s line. (Does she know?) “Well…okay. I’m heading to pick someone up, but I can cancel it and come back,” Melody said. “Just hold tight, ‘kay?” Skip’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to fuck with your work. Cancelling rides can get you in trouble with the app, right?” “Yeah, but like…most rides are going to be downtown, and then I’m meeting up with this chick, so once I’m there, I don’t want to loop back around, and–” “Don’t come back,” Skip said hurriedly, before they could make their mouth stop running. They were growing detached, numb with excitement and fear. “It’s my fault. I should have made sure you were home before I…went.” Another pause, silence that carried as much meaning as a speech. “Skip,” Melody began. “I’m going to be gone for like, six hours. I’m not going to make you wait that long for a change.” “I don’t want to cause problems for you that are my fault,” Skip insisted, barely aware of their own body. “Then just change yourself, I grant permission this one time,” Melody said. “Seriously–” “No.” (Shut up. What are you–) Melody interrupted before they could think any further on how to sink any further. “Yellow. Skip, what’s up? You’re being weird.” Skip wanted to lie, but standing there, numb, in a sagging, smelly diaper, they felt their ability to play coy vanish. The truth tumbled out of their lips without any chance of stopping it. “I heard you leave,” Skip admitted. “I knew you weren’t here.” Silence. Their heart hammered in their chest, the only sound they could make out clearly. Finally, Melody spoke up in a new tone, sugary sweet and laced with amusement. “Oh, sweetie. It’s too bad–I already left for work for the day, I can’t just come back and change you. It looks like you’ll just have to wait!” “I–” Skip started. In her normal voice, Melody interjected, “This is what you want, right? You can fuss and whine, I’m going to ignore you unless you safe word. ‘Kay?” (She’s…cool with it.) “That’s not fair,” they insisted. “What the fuck, Melody, you’re going to leave me in this?” “And now you’re sassing me?” Melody demanded. “You’re the one who went potty in their pants, that’s not my fault you couldn’t hold it. I don’t want to hear any more complaining, got it?” A surge of emotion washed down Skip’s body, and they again replied without first thinking. “Yes, Melody.” “Maybe this will finally make it sink in who’s in charge,” Melody continued. “If you had just been obedient, you wouldn’t be stuck in your stinky pants. Now, I have to go to work, and I don’t want to hear another word whining about your diaper until I get home tonight, unless you want to end up over my knee once you’re out of that diaper. Understood?” “Understood,” Skip repeated. “Good.” In her ‘normal’ tone, Melody added, “But seriously, if you need to just change yourself and clean up, I don’t want you to get a bad rash or anything. Safe, sane, and consensual, don’t hurt yourself.” “I promise I won’t hurt myself.” “Such a good doll–have fun sitting in your dirty diaper!” She hung up and Skip stood there, frozen. Melody had teased them, certainly, but only in the confines of the game. She’d seen through to Skip’s real intention–hell, Skip had blurted it out. Skip had practically admitted to setting this up, to deliberately creating a circumstance where they’d be in a dirty diaper for most of the evening, and Melody had accepted it and wrapped it into their game. Skip wasn’t sure how long they’d been standing by the edge of their bed, until their phone buzzed with another message. Grace: ‘Did you still want to watch a movie with me and Brains tonight?’ Skip hadn’t expected to make it this far. When they’d planned out their plot, they’d set up the most dire possible consequences, and expected it to melt down spectacularly. Instead, Melody had taken it in and given a metaphorical thumbs up, and now Skip would actually have to stink for the rest of the night. And they’d made plans with their friends. Face burning again, they wrote a message. ‘I am not feeling super well, I think I’m just going to lie down and hope I feel better in a few hours.’ They stared at the message, thought it over, and deleted the text without sending it, typing out something new. ‘Part of the thing I have going on with Melody, I didn’t realize she left for work and then I used my diaper. She says I have to wait for her to get home so she can change me, so I feel like I should just stay in my room.’ Grace replied quickly, with a brown swirly emoji and a laughing emoji next to the message, ‘You mean you used your diaper?’ Face burning, Skip sent, ‘Yes, I thought I could get cleaned up right away.’ They were grateful that Grace was Grace. She just sent, ‘Hah, okay. I really don’t care. I can check with Brains and make sure he doesn’t mind, but it’s no big deal.’ ‘You’re sure?’ ‘If it’s bad we can open a window or something, idc.’ Skip released a breath, relaxed, took a step towards their dresser, and fell over. They’d been standing in one place so long that their legs had fallen half asleep, and the sudden movement caused them to tumble, landing on the seat of their diaper with a squelchy thud as a wave of pins and needles washed up from their ankles. Wiggling their toes, they waited for the sensation to return before they got to their feet, turned on their bedside lamp, and waddled to their wardrobe and looked over their clothing. It didn’t really matter what they chose, since even if their diaper was covered, anyone within smelling distance would be able to detect what they were wearing. So, after digging a bit to get to the unused bottom of the dresser, they selected a pair of especially stretchy skinny jeans that conformed to the contours of their legs and the bulging swell of their diaper. Once the jeans were pulled on, the puffiness of their butt stood out even at a cursory glance. Raising their phone one more time, they sent, ‘Yeah, I’m still down for the movie. Start in twenty minutes?’ Grace replied without a hint of judgement. ‘Sounds good, I’ll make popcorn.’ ... Support the author! Several chapters are already up in early access for my subs, and the support helps me keep the lights on. https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

I don't want to be pedantic, but... Oh, who am I kidding, I do want to be pedantic. Isn't Harry Potter also a story where the protagonist is routinely tortured and abused? Every book features new and horrible cruelty inflicted upon actual children, sometimes by the characters we're supposed to believe are the good guys. (Also, Rowling is a TERF and can eat shit. I'm happy to discuss plot and theme and taste, but that's not up for debate.)

Yes. It *is* torture porn. I wrote porn where characters get tortured. Heck, I've written deeply pretentious work of meta-fiction about the exact tension you're talking about; the (literal) omnipotent higher power who relentlessly abuses the protagonist who cannot resist. This feels like a real, 'Dead Dove: Do Not Eat' situation. Not for you? Totally fine.

Chapter 39 Daniel burned red as he waddled down the hallway towards the common area. He braced his emotions for what would come next, but already he felt like he had begun to build a dam over quicksand, and no amount of preparation would be able to protect him from the upcoming humiliation. He needed to ask one of his friends for a diaper change. Quickly, he ran down his options: He could ask Jen for help, but he couldn’t imagine asking her for help with something so gross when he already smoldered with guilt over kissing another girl. Cassie had an equal, opposite problem. The source of his guilt, he could still feel her lips tingling on his own when he pictured her. And would it feel inappropriate if he asked her to change his diaper, given her recent confession? He needed someone more distant, someone he trusted implicitly but that wouldn’t carry baggage. Anyone in the coven would probably be fine except Cassie, but of all of them, he hoped that he ran into Asami first–she generally kept a level head, didn’t make a big deal out of things, and rarely engaged in diaper-related teasing when it came up. Nodding to himself, Daniel rounded the corner to enter the common room and– “Danny!” Jen called, sitting up and running over to him immediately. She turned pink and slowed her jog as she approached, self-correcting to, “Daniel. Sorry. ‘Danny’ is just stuck in my brain and–um.” Her nose wrinkled as she got within sniffing distance and her eyes darted down, taking in the way his diaper sagged heavily beneath the hem of his miniskirt. Her approach drew a little attention, but the common room was only half full and most of the students were exhausted, so only a few people glanced his way. Daniel stood there frozen, words stuck in his mouth. She returned her gaze up to him and frowned, though she didn’t directly address the source of the stink wafting off him. “What happened? Are you gonna be expelled?” He shook his head. “No, but…Rachel happened.” Jen groaned and adjusted her glasses in annoyance. “Are you–what did she do? Can we just go to the faculty this time, please?” “It wouldn’t do any good, this one’s school-sanctioned,” Daniel explained. “Since I ‘snuck out’ by claiming I would go get a diaper change, she convinced the dean that I should be punished.” “I mean…” Jen dropped her voice to a whisper. “You did sneak out by claiming you would go get a diaper change, so…what’s the punishment?” He struggled to say it out loud, still stewing in the humiliation Rachel had poured onto him. He managed to get half an answer out, one that lacked most of the words it needed to be sensible. “I can’t…anymore.” “You can’t…” Jen puzzled for a moment before recognition flashed in her eyes. “You can’t change your diaper?” Blush flaring up as bright as ever, Daniel nodded. “Rachel was going to be the only one who could, and I think she was just going to torture me until I quit, but…” “But…” Jen thought for a moment. “Well you came here, and didn’t go straight to the nurse, so she’s not going to change you…oh. Oh. Yeah, sure, I can do that, come on.” He didn’t even need to ask–she took his arm and began walking away from the common area, towards his room. Daniel dug in his heels and pulled his arm away. “Wait, stop.” “What?” she asked, turning in confusion. “Am I not allowed? Or is this one of those boy things?” He frowned in response. “‘Boy things’?” “Like, you’re embarrassed because we’re also hooking up,” Jen explained. “And to that I say, puh-lease, it’s not like I don’t already know everything you have going on down there, y’know? Seriously, it’s fine.” Even as she said it, Daniel caught the hint of hesitation in her expression. She could say it was fine all she wanted, but nobody relished having to be on diaper duty for anyone. She’d do it because they were friends, and they were dating, but that didn’t mean Jen truly felt the enthusiasm that she projected. Besides, his guilt ate at him. If she knew what he’d done, she probably wouldn’t be his friend anymore, and she certainly wouldn’t be his girlfriend anymore. Jen took his arm again and resumed walking towards his dorm room. “I’d change a hundred diapers before I let Rachel fuck with you,” she promised him. “I know this is super awkward for you, but what was your plan otherwise? One of your friends is going to have to help. Heck, we’ll probably have to take shifts like we do when we escort you to keep Rachel away–we could probably coordinate that and make a schedule so we all share the load, and…” She continued chattering, rambling on about a plan for Daniel’s diaper duty, but he could only hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest and the crinkle of his abused diaper rustling between his thighs. At the end of the hall that led to the prefect’s dorms, he stopped again. “I need to tell you something.” Jen looked at him and finally saw the guilt. Her face fell, surprise and confusion mingling. “No–Daniel, you can’t quit. You can’t let Rachel win.” (She deserves the truth, she’s a better person than me.) He inhaled through his mouth and steadied himself. On the exhale, he forced out the words, admitting his guilt openly. “When we were in Paris, I kissed Cassie.” Jen tilted her head and smiled. “Oh, cool! She’s super pretty, and…ooh. Did she ask about going steady?” Daniel blinked. Jen had, seemingly without realizing, done a verbal karate move and stolen all his momentum. “What?” “Look, I won’t be upset, whatever you pick,” Jen promised him. “I get that it’s not for everyone, and my goal is not to tie anyone down. You gotta do what you gotta do.” Shaking his head, Daniel said, “Jen, what are you talking about? I just admitted to cheating on you.” Jen stared, her brow furrowed, and then she burst out laughing. Daniel’s blush returned, but when he tried to ask a question, he could only make empty stammering sounds. She wheezed for several moments, ultimately leaning against the wall to support herself through the fit of giggles. When she had recovered enough to speak, she said, “That’s what’s had you acting weird since you got back?” “I…yeah,” Daniel said. “I…thought you should know. I’m so sorry.” Wiping tears from her eyes, Jen shook her head, a little sobriety entering her expression. “Danny, I thought I told you we weren’t exclusive–you knew that, right?” Again he blinked, baffled and uncertain what she was talking about. “Wait…” “Like, yeah, you should tell me, I appreciate it, but I’m not mad. College is pretty much designed for swinging, y’know?” She tilted her head, then a bit of worry entered her expression. “Wait–shit. You didn’t know about me and Becca? I thought I told you we hooked up.” Daniel thought back to what he had heard. “That’s the girl in your coven with the red hair, right? I thought…I don’t know, you were being metaphorical? Like when girls call each other ‘girlfriend’.” Jen rolled her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of learning to do, Daniel. Do you want to be in an exclusive relationship?” He didn’t have an answer. The whole concept was foreign to him, and the idea of dating two people at once struck him as…too big to think about. He shrugged. “I guess, I’ll have to think?” “Well, just to be super explicit, I really like it when we hook up, and I enjoy your company, and I have zero interest in anything more intense than that right now. I don’t know if I ever will, really. If you want to start seeing Cassie, that’s totally fine with me, just make sure she knows what you’re looking for.” Daniel felt like he’d been punched in the head, but in a positive, nice way. He reeled with relief, almost dizzy as his guilt from the past night washed away. “Also, Cassie asked permission first,” Jen commented, “So like, she knows about us, y’know? Now–seriously, you need a fresh diaper already, so let’s keep moving.” Trailing after her in a daze, Daniel followed Jen into his bedroom. She took charge quickly, retrieving a fresh diaper, wipes, and baby oil from his dresser and pulling the blanket off his bed so he’d just have his waterproof sheets to lie down on. “Alright, let’s see,” she said, producing her wand. “I don’t know a presto chango spell, but I should be able to cobble something together.” Daniel moved to lay down, gingerly trying to avoid sitting on his mess as he did so. It took a little gymnastics to go straight from standing to lying without sinking his weight into the seat of his diaper, but he managed, pulling up his skirt so Jen would have unfettered access to his onesie. She raised her wand and flicked it, chanting words of power, but nothing happened. Jen frowned. “Is the onesie–cute, by the way–did Rachel enchant it to be magic resistant?” “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “I can’t undo the snaps, though, so…probably?” Jen nodded and held her breath as she leaned in, manually popping the snaps. Immediately his diaper fwumped out, flopping onto the bed as the snaps no longer held anything back, and while pinching her nose, Jen raised her wand again and cast a second spell. Daniel felt the subtle ripple of energy, but his diaper remained there, limp and soggy, unmoving. Blinking, Jen turned and cast the same spell on the fresh diaper she’d set out. It immediately unfolded itself, spreading and even fluffing up a bit. “Well…shit, okay.” Jen tapped her nose with the tip of her wand and her voice took on a slightly nasal quality. “I guess we’re doing this the Mundane way.” Daniel laid back, staring at the ceiling and crossing his arms over his chest so he wouldn’t have to watch. This was plenty humiliating without a detailed view, and even the relief of finding out that he hadn’t cheated with Cassie could only get him so far before his threadbare dignity rushed back in to remind him what was happening. Jen popped the tapes on his diaper and it flopped open onto the bed, amplifying the smell as there were now no layers left to contain it. She winced slightly, but began taking wipes from the dispenser, gathering up a loose handful before she went to work. “Question,” she said. “I need to throw this away and get the fresh one under you…how do I do that?” Daniel sat up on his elbows. “Huh?” “Well…you’re kind of icky all the way to the back, and so’s the diaper, so it’s kind of a thing of I can’t do one without the other,” Jen explained, pointing. “If I take the diaper away, you’ll get your sheets all gross, if I try and wipe you up while you’re still on the diaper, you’ll just get yucky again.” Daniel pursed his lips. “Normally this always involved a shower when I do it…” After a moment of thought, Jen said, “Well, I can use a cleaning spell on your sheets, so…take the diaper away, clean you, cast a spell on the sheets?” “Sure, I guess.” Daniel shrugged and laid back down. “There’s got to be a better way, but…I don’t know what it is.” “Something to look up later.” The problem solving helped crack the tension a bit, and while Daniel still smoldered with embarrassment, he didn’t feel like he was about to die anymore. Jen followed her plan and pulled his old diaper away, balling it up and carrying it to his pail before she began with the wipes. She started low, wiping away the worst of the mess and piling old wipes on his old diaper, then began working her way up, cleaning his thighs, then… (No, no, not now.) Daniel’s blush was etched indelibly on his cheeks as he felt an erection begin to build, utterly unbidden, an automatic response to having a pretty girl’s hands near his cock. He squirmed and clenched his toes, trying to kill it, but couldn’t prevent the physical response from taking its course. “I’m not saying no,” Jen quipped. “But I’m gonna need you to be a little patient, okay?” “No, I–” Daniel began. “I know, you can’t control it,” Jen interrupted. Then a giggle escaped her and she covered her mouth with her arm. “Sorry.” Daniel took a stab at what she was thinking. “Something about me not being able to control it, right?” She snickered. “Yeah…I didn’t want to say it out loud, but–well, since we’re already here, ‘You can’t control it, that’s why you need me here to help you.’” A second passed, and Daniel’s blush deepened for reasons other than embarrassment. Jen caught the flash in his expression as she shimmied the fresh diaper beneath his hips. “Hmm?” “Nothing,” he replied. She looked down at his erection, then back at him. “Are you sure it’s nothing? You don’t want my help with anything else before you get snapped back up in your–oh. Oh. I just realized something.” He sat up on his elbows, arousal fading slightly. “What?” “You aren’t going to be able to jerk off,” Jen explained. “If you can’t touch your diaper, and you’re always wearing it…I guess this has to be my job, now, doesn’t it?” “Uh…” Jen picked up the baby oil tube and squirted a little into her hand, going with the flow. Daniel knew he could tell her to stop, but those words were as far as they could have been from his mind as she touched him, gently stroking his cock. “That’s kind of hot,” she mused, fingers tracing up and down with slick desire. “You’re going to need to come to your babysitter for all your needs, won’t you?” Daniel whimpered, and any reticence he had vanished as his libido took over. “Ahhh…” She stroked faster, grasping the shaft with her full hand, and Daniel found all words vanish from his mind. “Good boy,” she praised. “Just let me take care of you, and–” He began to spurt into her hand, twitching in climax as she pulled the orgasm from him. Jen grinned in delight and kept her hand moving, aiming him down so that the trickle of cum dribbled down her hand and into his waiting diaper. Daniel panted for breath, exhausted and delirious in a good way. “Fuck.” “Yeah?” Jen asked, wiping her hand off on the interior of his fresh diaper and then using a couple baby wipes for the detail work. “That wasn’t where I expected this to go, but I’m not going to lie, it was very hot. You liked it too, right?” “Oh, yeah, definitely,” he assured her. “I mean…couldn’t you tell?” Jen smirked. “I thought you couldn’t control it?” They both chuckled, and she moved to finish the change, wrapping the slightly cum-stained diaper over him and taping it down. “There you go–all fresh. Or, mostly fresh.” Breathing deeply, unwinding from the intensity of the sudden sex, Daniel said, “Do you want me to…I don’t know, something?” “Right now, I’m happy to make you feel happy,” Jen said. “But I’m going to remember this for next time and come prepared.” The imaginations that her comment sparked in Daniel made his eyes widen, and he laid back as she finished doing up his snaps. “Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all.” ... Support plz! My writing is enabled my my subscribers, and I reward them in turn with early access and compliments. (Seriously, they're awesome!) https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

Chapter 38 Sometime in the hours of twilight, magic returned without fanfare or warning. Since most everyone had gone the night without proper sleep, only getting fitful moments in the great hall, classes were cancelled and the student body were dismissed to sleep. They were told that the instability with magic had been due to a natural wellspring of power that surged out of control, like a solar flare, natural and unstoppable. Daniel didn’t believe that story, but he had other concerns. “Just to be clear, this is just to take a look at things,” he began. “Right?” “Professor Madrigal explained that, yes,” Doctor Cork agreed, offering a hand to help him up onto the exam table. “I am to identify that you are incontinent and suffering from a curse, that is all.” He clambered onto the table, which had been covered with a layer of crinkling tissue paper that ripped as soon as he got on. Facing Cork, he wondered if he should pull his skirt down–he was acutely aware that by sitting up high, flashing his diaper at her, but she already knew it was there and his miniskirt wouldn’t do much even if he tugged it down as far as the material would stretch. “Alright,” she said, trotting a circle around the exam table before coming to a stop. Though she was far taller than him as a centaur, the exam table was lifted and her size didn’t interfere with her examination. “Well, I can see that the incontinence is true.” Daniel opened his mouth to ask, ‘What do you mean?’, but felt warmth spreading around his groin before the question could get out. He blushed and looked down, avoiding eye contact. “How was the curse administered?” she asked. “A potion,” he explained. She nodded and reached forward, touching his belly through a layer of fabric. After a moment of concentration, she said, “I can feel it, woven into your aura. It would be a simple thing to undo, if you wish me to, but–” “Definitely not,” he interrupted. “But, since you have expressed that you don’t wish to risk it, I won’t interfere.” She nodded. “It seems to be parasitic in nature.” He nodded. “I think if I go a few weeks without casting spells, it will go away, but I can’t do that during the semester. I’ll go no-magic over the holidays.” Doctor Cork nodded and took her hand away. “Very well. I’ll let the dean know that what you reported was true, and make a note in your file.” Daniel sat forward so he could hop down from the exam table. “That I’m cursed?” “That you’re incontinent,” she replied, conjuring a notepad from thin air and marking it with a few scratched notes. “Daniel, you’ll recall that our school looks very harshly on harassment due to disability, even temporary disability.” “Assuming those rules are enforced,” Daniel shot back. “I’m not going to raise an issue about it.” “Give this to the dean.” Doctor Cork shrugged and ripped off the page of the pad, passing the folded paper to him. “And, regardless of your reservations, I’ll make that note in your file.” Next came his trial. Madrigal seemed to be in a good mood when he entered her office, which already had him feeling optimistic. Rachel, on the other hand, also seemed to be in a good mood, waiting maliciously in the corner of the room. Daniel hesitated in the doorway. “You already made up your mind, didn’t you?” “Have a seat,” the dean replied, gesturing to the chair across from her. Daniel reluctantly obeyed, sitting down with his body turned so he could keep Rachel in his peripheral vision. Leaning over, he passed the dean his note from Doctor Cork. She unfolded it, read it briefly, and set it aside before steepling her fingers and addressing Daniel. “I have chosen not to expel you,” the dean explained. “But I can’t overlook your behavior. You put other students and faculty at risk by leaving during curfew, when you knew there was an emergency. The time we spent looking for you could have diverted us away from a true emergency.” While he dreaded whatever Rachel had concocted, Daniel couldn’t really disagree with that statement. She wasn’t wrong, even if he thought the risk had been worth it. “I accept that. Just…please don’t take it out on my coven. If you were going to kick us off the Voxavin league because of me, it’s not their fault, I don’t want them to suffer.” Madrigal shook her head. “Rachel had a suggestion for something more appropriate.” “No more excuses, spark,” Rachel cut in. “You claimed you needed to change your diaper, that’s why you had to run–so I think the only fair thing is to take that excuse off the table for you.” Daniel’s brow furrowed. “You’re…I don’t know what you’re implying.” “Then I’ll stop implying it. You don’t get to change your diapers anymore.” Rachel’s gloating smirk was full of wicked mirth. “But don’t worry–I’ll take good care of you.” Ice ran down Daniel’s spine as he remembered the humiliating diaper change Rachel had given him the night before. “What? But…this is a joke, right?” “Rachel has made it very clear that she’s willing to make this time commitment, if it helps maintain discipline,” the dean explained. “Mhmm,” Rachel chimed in. “Your butt is my responsibility now, Spark.” Daniel swallowed. He’d spent the past month avoiding any private situation with Rachel, and she’d just created an excuse to get him alone several times a day in a particularly vulnerable context. If she felt comfortable dunking him in his own diaper pail, she wouldn’t hesitate to make every change an ordeal. Racing for a solution, he said, “What if…what if I got someone else to change me?” “Doctor Cork has too many responsibilities,” the dean said. Rachel laughed as she added, “Yeah, you’re not going to get anyone else to volunteer for diaper duty.” “I mean…other students,” Daniel clarified. “I could at least ask, right?” Rachel began to shake her head, but the dean pursed her lips and nodded. “If you can find someone else willing to do that, I will allow it, but if you use that concession to sneak away again, you will be expelled immediately.” Daniel rubbed at the back of his neck. “Wow. No warning?” The dean sat back and nodded. “This is your warning.” “Okay.” Daniel swallowed. He could always ask around and see if his friends would volunteer, and then quit the school if nobody wanted to help. “Alright, Spark,” Rachel snapped, storming to the door. “We’re done taking up the dean’s time. Come on.” Daniel didn’t follow right away, first asking the dean, “Did you talk to her?” Though she kept her face largely neutral, Madrigal nodded briefly and he caught a small smile. “We spoke. There was a lot to catch up on. That will be all, Mister Aster.” Standing, Daniel followed Rachel out of the office, but as soon as they were in the hall his prefect turned to him. “Okay, let’s do this.” “Do what?” he asked, confused. “You didn’t think we were going to take this on faith, did you?” Looming over Daniel, she took out her ribbon wand and let the colorful ribbon unfurl to the ground. “Hands.” Daniel didn’t obey immediately. “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to do magic. It’s kind of our whole thing here, magic school, y’know. Hands.” When he didn’t immediately obey, she reached down and grabbed one of his wrists, pulling his hand up. Daniel yelped but didn’t even try and stop her. With one hand raised, Rachel manhandled his other hand up, so that they were clasped together as though he were pleading with her. “You don’t get to say no to this,” she said. “Stop me, you’re expelled. Got it?” He nodded meekly. “But what are you doing?” “Did I stutter, spark?” Whispering words of power, Rachel raised her wand and traced the ribbon over his hands, spiraling more and more quickly, until the ribbon twirled without touching his skin. He felt the surge of power conducted into his body and a tightness around one finger on each hand, and when the ribbon flew away in a final display of power, Daniel saw two dull pink rings, one on each of his hands. They weren’t tight or uncomfortable, but when he lowered his hands and fiddled with one, it wouldn’t slide free. “What the hell?” “The staying spell’s pretty weak,” Rachel commented, “But if you break it, there’s no un-breaking it unless you’re confident you can remake my work exactly. Congratulations, you’re a jewelry guy now.” “Okay…” Daniel looked down at his hands, at his paired rings. “But what do they do?” “On their own, nothing, but that’s why we’re not done.” With a flick of her wrist, Rachel assaulted him with a second spell that came without warning. He stumbled back and felt the effect as a tingling on his skin, not impacting him directly, but impacting his clothing. His school uniform top grew at the waist, lengthening, winding under his skirt and between his legs. Three little pops sounded in sequence as the fabric met in the middle, and the magic ended. Daniel couldn’t help himself, he lifted his skirt and looked down immediately, though the act set him up for more mockery from Rachel. His shirt wasn’t a shirt any longer, it was a onesie, with three dull pink snaps that sealed the fabric over his diaper. “Awww, good boy,” Rachel sneered. “Showing off your diaper for me–but put your skirt down, I’m not the one who’s going to be changing you.” His question came immediately. (What does the magic do?) But that would only earn him another quip from Rachel, and he was a warlock. He could figure it out. Extending his senses, he felt the connection between the rings and the buttons, a psychic repulsion like a pair of opposed magnets. That told him quite a bit, but he tested it anyway. When he tried to reach for the snaps, his hands simply didn’t obey. The distance didn’t matter. If he raised a hand to his side then told it to reach for the snaps, the arm stayed outstretched, and if his fingers were lingering only a few inches away, he couldn’t cross that last tiny distance. “Wow,” Rachel commented, watching him experiment. “You know, you could have just asked.” “So the top is enchanted, and the rings,” he summarized. “The little baby onesie is enchanted,” Rachel clarified. “And if I catch you wearing a grown-up top, you’re out of here.” He felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. This pretty much aligned with what he’d already been told, but sealing it with magic meant he’d have few opportunities to search for loopholes or to simply cheat. (You can always quit if it gets too bad, but this isn’t too bad yet,) he reminded himself. Glancing side to side, Rachel said, “Oh, and one more thing.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” She leaned in and whispered into his ear. “I know you told them about the curse. I know you tried to get me in trouble.” He blanched, eyes darting to the door immediately next to them. “I–” She followed his gaze and rolled her eyes. “What, are you going to call for mommy? Go ahead.” The ribbon wand prodded him in his belly, and he looked down. “What–” “Since they know you can’t help it anymore, it won’t be suspicious if you have accidents at inopportune times,” she explained. “Go on, spark. Try to stop me.” He fumbled for the want in his pocket, but it was far too late. A lance of magic pulsed into him, and even with his arcane incontinence, he felt the cramp strike him as the magic took hold. “I–” he stammered. “The fuck?” “I think you must like this,” she commented, as he helplessly humiliated himself in front of her. “You do it often enough, and you haven’t even tried to undo the curse, so it must be because you just get off on making girls watch you humiliate yourself.” There was no stopping the pressure that surged inside his bowels. His diaper crinkled as it expanded, but the snug onesie kept everything pressed tightly into his body, smearing the accident forward and back as he filled the diaper in front of Rachel. “Go on, find your girlfriend,” Rachel said, stepping away. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to help.” Without any control over his potty training, Daniel’s accidents in the past couple months had all been modest, but Rachel’s magic was anything but. His diaper swelled and sagged, testing the limits of the onesie’s elastic, packed especially full, especially heavy. His nose wrinkled at the sudden smell that wafted up from beneath his skirt, and he had no words to try and regain his dignity in front of Rachel. She beamed at him. “I’m happy to change you myself, if you’d prefer. We can go back to your room and I’ll make sure you get exactly the treatment you deserve.” Daniel swallowed on a dry throat and tried to take shallow breaths, but his attempts at looking indignant only made Rachel laugh. Finally, even as the accident was still tapering off in his diaper, he turned on his heels and waddled away, legs spread wide to try and keep the mush from squelching and blowing out his diaper. “I wonder who’s going to quit first,” Rachel called after him. “You seem to love your dirty diapers–but let’s see if your girlfriend feels the same.” ... Took a bit of an unscheduled hiatus from writing, but I'm back, baby! If you would like to sponsor further writing, (and hopefully fewer unscheduled breaks,) support is always appreciated and comes with early access to future chapters! https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

Chapter 5 “Hadie…” Sandra waved her hand over Hadrian’s face, crouched in front of her friend. His eyes had opened, but they had a glassy, distant look to them–he must have been really sleepy. “Hadie!” Sandra repeated, giggling. “Come on, I want to play.” Blinking a couple times, Hadrian’s gaze managed to focus, just a touch, though he went cross-eyed looking at his pacifier. Giving it a few speculative suckles, he giggled and spluttered, drool draining down his chin. “Baby,” Sandra teased, poking him in the chest. Deep in the back of her mind, Sandra recognized that she was forgetting something. Bedtime? No, they were pretty much grown ups, they could do whatever they wanted. Potty? No, she didn’t need that any more, her diaper took care of her. Um… Um… “Oh! Makeover!” Sandra said, remembering what the grown up had said right before leaving. Kitty had suggested Hadrian could be prettied up, and Sandra happened to agree. “Tie-tie, you wanna do makeovers with the boys?” “Mmm, inna minute!” Tarja replied. “Quinn’s dress got all soggy…it’s…I dunno what to do.” “Oh, I can help!” Sandra said, turning to face them. Quinn did look a little upset about the state of his clothes–understandable, a wet outfit was no fun at all. She didn’t stand–instead, without really thinking about why, Sandra stayed on hands and knees, shuffling across the wooden floor. Closing her eyes for a moment, she concentrated on her magic, calling up a little spark of power. In a sparkling instant, Quinn’s dress turned from pee-stained to perfectly clean. Beaming, he said, “Thanks!” Sandra rolled her eyes. “Dummy–you gotta wear your diaper!” “I don’t need diapers,” Quinn objected, crossing his arms and pouting his lip. “Meanie.” Eyes sparkling with mischief, Sandra called up the spell again, reversing the prestidigitatious effects–in an instant, the pee stain had returned in full force. “Yeah you do, you just had another accident!” “B-buh– No I didn’t!” Quinn said, exasperation growing when both Sandra and Tarja burst into fits of giggles. “That was you!” “I didn’t have an accident, I got my diaper on!” Sandra explained, pointing back at her puffy butt. “No problem, I’m all taken care of.” “Well–clean me up again,” Quinn pouted, putting on a show of grumpiness that was contrasted heavily by his soggy skirts. “Meaniehead.” “Fiiine,” Sandra promised. “But if you have another accident I’m not cleaning you again! I can’t just cast spells forever, you know.” “Issa cantrip, yes you can!” Quinn complained, demeanor brightening as she cleaned his dress again. “Na na na na, I can’t hear you,” Sandra called back, turning to return to her canvas–that is, to Hadrian, who still needed a makeover. Behind her, she heard bits of a whispered conversation, and smirked with satisfaction when she heard the rustle of a fresh diaper. Still, she had more important things–Hadrian needed his makeover! She had a makeover kit, too–well, a disguise kit, but they were basically the same thing. Lipstick, powders, creams, all sorts of goodies to make her friends as pretty as possible. Hadrian didn’t fuss at all, either–he looked a little funny and Sandra occasionally had to wipe away the drool from underneath his pacifier so that it wouldn’t run on the makeup, but he didn’t complain, or even fidget. He was the next best thing to a perfect canvas, giggling occasionally as Sandra did her very best to make her friend look as nice as possible. “Tie-tie,” Sandra said, waving over her other friend. “Whadya think–he’s got his paci, should I try and do lipstick anyways?” Crawling over, Tarja plopped down on her bottom and looked at Hadrian for a long moment, thinking. “I’unno. What does he think?” Shrugging, Sandra said, “He’s all drooly right now, I dunno what he wants. Kitty gave him one of those pacifiers that makes your brain go real fuzzy.” (Should I be worried about that?) Sandra wondered, the thought so faint she barely noticed it. Out loud, she responded to herself. “He looks like he’s having a nice time, though!” “No lipstick,” Tarja suggested. “It’d just look silly and get everywhere.” Sandra nodded enthusiastically, agreeing. “You wanna do Quinn?” Tarja shook her head. “No, you’re better at girly stuff than me.” “S’not girly if I do it on a boy!” Sandra pointed out. “Quinn, do you want me or Tarja to do your makeover?” Quinn was suckling on his index finger when Sandra interrupted his train of thought, and he had to ponder the question for a moment. “Sandwa,” he said, finally. “And Tarja’s gotta look away so it’s a surprise when it’s done!” Tarja blew out a raspberry, rolling her eyes. “Fiiiine.” So, producing her makeup supplies once again, Sandra got to work on Quinn’s face. Quinn was considerably fussier throughout. Sandra could hardly apply powder without the half orc wincing away, coughing into his hand, but he still didn’t complain. “You’re gonna look so pretty,” Sandra said, dabbing red gel over his lips. A little got on his small, discreet tusks, but that was okay–she’d cast prestidigitation on the gel so that it tasted like bubblegum, just for mistakes like this. Quinn didn’t seem to mind, and she was able to finish turning his mouth to a cherry red pop of color. That done, she plopped the application wand into her mouth, sucking on the bubblegum flavor while she dabbed his face with blush. “Can I look yet?” Tarja asked. “Nuh,” Sandra replied. “Not done yet!” “Yeah!” Quinn added, causing the blush to streak when he moved suddenly to reply. “Uh, sorry, I…uh oh.” Sandra initially thought his response was to the makeup mistake, but a slight hissing a moment later tipped her off to the real concern. Quinn was having another accident, right then and there. If he blushed, she couldn’t see it beneath the layers of makeup, but his expression still showed sheepish embarrassment just by the curl of his lips and the way he glanced away, shifting uncomfortably, hoping Sandra might not notice. “See?” Sandra asked. “This is why you gotta wear a diaper.” “But–” Quinn started. “I’m not a baby. Diapers are dumb.” Sandra didn’t take even the slightest bit of insult. Shaking her head, she smiled at him. “Quinn, diapers aren’t dumb. Yeah, it’s not nice when grown ups make fun of you for it, but they’re jerks and they’d be jerks even if we didn’t need diapers. So who cares? It just lets you know who the bullies are that you gotsa keep an eye on. And, also–it means you don’t need to worry as much. Nobody likes stopping what they’re doing to go potty, even if you can hold it, so why make a big deal out of it?” Quinn seemed unconvinced, but a bit more willing to listen than he had been before. “Well…but…” “Besides,” Sandra continued. “All of your friends are wearing diapers, so it can’t be that bad, right?” “That’s cuz you’re cursed,” Quinn argued petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. Sandra rolled her eyes. “Nuh-uh. I wasn’t cursed for ages and I still kept my diapers. I just put the cursed one back on cuz now I don’t have to even clean it, it does that for me, and who cares about potty training?” Quinn seemed like he wanted to keep arguing, but a reassuring touch from Tarja finally got through to him. “Quinn,” she promised, her other hand over her eyes so she wouldn’t see his makeup. “You’ll still be big ‘n strong to me, I don’t care.” That was what ultimately melted his defenses. Lowering his arms, Quinn gave a few little nods. “Fine.” “Alright,” Sandra said, glancing at Tarja. Her hands weren’t shaking–she’d peed herself recently. “You wanna do his diaper while I finish his makeup?” She didn’t add the other thought. ‘You can lower your hands, I saw you were peeking.’ Tarja nodded, and gave up the play-pretend, lowering her hands and crawling to her bag to get the absorbent garment. She and Quinn had rather different builds, but her diapers would stretch just enough to fit. While she flipped up Quinn’s many petticoats and went to work wiping him clean, Sandra guided his head to the ground, laying him down and crouching over him so that she was looking at his face upside-down while she did the makeup. She giggled, and Quinn crossed his arms. “You said only mean grownups would laugh.” “Not laughing at your diaper, dummy,” Sandra replied. “You just look silly upside down.” He smirked a bit, expression softening. “Well so do you.” The two of them fell into giggles together, until Tarja looked up from between Quinn’s legs and asked, “How come you’re sayin’, ‘Grown ups’? We’re grown ups.” Sandra paused. It was a good question. They were, weren’t they? They were big enough, at least. “Well…” she started, looking around the room. “Hadie definitely isn’t, lookit him!” Hadrian definitely didn’t look like a grown up–he couldn’t even talk! He was just drooling over his new pacifier, a glassy stare taking up his face. “Well, sure,” Tarja agreed, “But we’re not like him.” Sandra’s frown deepened while she thought about it. “I dunno. I guess I just didn’t think about it?” “Is Hadie okay?” Quinn asked. “I thought those were the mean bad pacifiers that the wizard made.” “He’s fine, just a baby,” Sandra said, dismissing her own inner anxiety about her friend. It was fine, he just wasn’t as grown up as the rest of them. “Makeup’s all done!” “So’s the diaper,” Tarja said. “Sandwa, can you clean his dress?” Sandra nodded, letting loose a little magic on the pee stains while Quinn sat up. Tarja beamed. “You look sooo good!” Quinn’s real blush was partially concealed by rosy makeup on his cheeks, but his fidgeting hands couldn’t be hidden. “You think so?” “Mhmm,” Tarja promised. A second later, a slight ‘Thwop’ sound came from the side, followed by an object tumbling to the floor, and then tears. Everyone turned. Hadrian’s pacifier was in his mouth–not the new, cursed one that made him a major baby-head, but his old one, the one that just kept him from talking. And, with the mean pacifier gone, he’d started to cry. Rushing over to him on all fours, Sandra pulled him quickly into a platonic hug, reassuring her friend. “Hey, Hadie, is ok! You’re ok!” Reaching up, she took his pacifier, removing it from his mouth. Hadrian took a couple breaths, then shook his head. “Nuh,” he said, grabbing the pacifier and putting it right back in place, suckling a few times for reassurance. With Sandra there, he sobbed only for a few moments longer before wiping his eyes and giving her a reassuring smile. “You still want your paci in?” she asked, uncertain. Nodding emphatically, Hadrian’s smile grew, soothing himself with the pacifier. “Okay,” Sandra said, smiling. “That’s fine, Hadie–” The door behind them opened, and an urgent voice said, “They’re in here.” Sandra turned, surprised to see the bartender standing in the doorway. She was looking around the room, trying to assess the status of everyone inside–but that was silly, they were fine, they were just playing! “Hiya,” Sandra said, beaming at her. “How are you?” Eyebrows raising just a touch, the bartender swallowed. Only after a moment of thought did she call, “They’ve been stupefied.” “We’re not stupid-fied,” Quinn protested. “Sandra said so, we’re not stupid.” The matron sighed. “Alright, if you say so. Can you all come with me?” They all hesitated–they didn’t know this woman all too well, but she was nice, and she operated a bar that served their playmates–er, their guild. Sandra, taking leadership amongst her friends, said, “Okies. Where are we going?” “A place for other…people like you,” she said. “It’s comfortable and safe there. I promise.” They crawled after her, not a one of them complaining after Sandra made it clear this was what they would be doing. The path took them out of the bar and a block down the street, but it was late, and not many grown-ups were out–though, the few that were awake did take note of the parade of crawling adventurers following after the bartender. Sandra felt a slight sense of grown-up anxiety wafting off the woman leading them, the kind of stress that adults always seemed to be worried with, but she gave only nervous smiles and reassuring comments to the four of them, promising that they would be OK. When the woman stopped in front of a small temple, Sandra staggered to her feet, using the building to stabilize herself and compensate for her weak legs. Before the bartender could speak, Sandra gave her a big hug. “Is okay,” Sandra promised. “Don’t gotta worry. It’ll be okay.” “Ah…eh, thank you,” the bartender replied, patting Sandra gingerly on the back. Though she seemed awkward and uncertain, after a moment, she accepted the hug, body relaxing in Sandra’s arms. Grown ups needed reassurance too, sometimes. The temple had been converted to a temporary nursery, it seemed. Clerics and nannies were caring for other big little ones, adults who were also little kids like Sandra, or sometimes like Hadrian had been with the mean pacifier in his mouth. The four of them were shuffled off to a corner, four beds that weren’t quite cribs, but did have raised guards so they wouldn’t fall out of bed. They were cared for–a woman came by to change their diapers, gave them cups of water with lids so that they wouldn’t spill, offered them food that they could eat without help–fruit and bread, dry things that wouldn’t make a mess. Tarja still managed to get crumbs and fruit juice over her face, but Quinn laughed and helped wipe her clean with the sleeve of his dress. Though none of them were sleepy, they were told before much longer that it was bedtime. Since the nannies and clerics were so nice, Sandra promised to obey, and her friends followed suit. They all went to bed, without a worry in the world. It was the morning after when all this would come back to haunt them. The befuddlement didn’t last, but their memories did–after just one night’s sleep, they awoke with their full faculties intact. Sandra didn’t say anything, not really. She didn’t want to acknowledge anything she’d said–she could claim it was all just the befuddlement, the curse, making her say things she didn’t really believe, but she didn’t want to lie to her party, so she just avoided the topic completely. It seemed like the others were willing to do the same; Quinn, in particular, stripped out of his diaper and never said a further word about it. Besides, they had more important things to do. The summoner, Kitty, had hit them with a whammy and escaped, but she’d given them a lead, too. There was no time to be embarrassed, they had clerics to rescue. ... I am finally getting back to working on (and hopefully finishing on a reasonable pace!) this story. 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Chapter 37 Ten minutes passed, or twenty. With his nose in the corner and nothing but the white noise of several hundred chattering witches to keep him company, Daniel struggled to keep track of time. The corner was his reality, indistinct conversation and stone walls and the overpowering smell of baby powder. He, unfortunately, had to sit with his thoughts. He’d fucked things up with Jen, and probably with Cassie too. He’d fucked things up with the school. As much as he’d improved, he still wasn’t much of a warlock, so he hadn’t even fixed any problems on his path to burn as many bridges as possible. A part of him wanted to break. If he let Rachel win, if he resigned, it could all be over. He’d spend two weeks on a magical sabbatical, get his underwear back, and move on with his life. Most people in the magical community didn’t study the arcane full time, they knew enough magic to elevate their day-to-day lives, he could just be one of them. A nobody. A nobody who at this point was never going to escape the gossip about his school days unless he did something to change his reputation sharply in a new direction. Coming to the school hadn’t simply failed to do what he wanted, it’d made things far, far worse. “Get him over here.” The dean’s voice cut through the noise and Daniel turned to glance over his shoulder. Rachel stood with Professor Penelope Madrigal, the dean of the school. Rachel glowered, but Madrigal nodded and pointed at him, beckoning with a finger for him to come over. (What am I going to say?) “Professor,” he said, nodding to the dean as he waddled over to them, relieved to be out of the corner. “Mister Aster,” the dean replied. “Rachel has told me everything she observed. Now is your chance to explain yourself before I make any decisions. Think carefully.” Daniel’s eyes glanced between her and Rachel. He didn’t know the story she’d been told, but he doubted anything he could say would change her mind. He hoped that someone would come to his aid, but when he considered the possibility of Jen or Cassie throwing themselves in his defense, he just felt further guilt. (I should have told Cassie no, I have a girlfriend. What was I thinking?) “I…was going to get a fresh diaper,” he began weakly. “Something with the magic surged up and I passed out, and I woke up in the bathroom.” The dean narrowed her eyes. “Really now?” “I told you his excuses are terrible.” Rachel crossed her arms and sneered. “I’ve done my best, but I can’t keep him in line.” The dean nodded, already arriving at her foregone conclusion. “Very well. Daniel, given your flagrant violation of the rules…” She kept talking, but Daniel’s ears didn’t hear the specific words. The message was clear. He was gone. He had to take a risk. He couldn’t tell anyone his true intentions because he didn’t want to expose what he knew to the villain in the school, but if he didn’t say anything, he’d be worse off than if he kept his mouth shut. At least, if he only told one person, he’d be limiting the exposure. “Wait,” he cut in. “I–I can explain, really, but somewhere private. Not here.” The dean raised an eyebrow, and Daniel laid his emotions on thick. He didn’t have to fake anything, he just stopped concealing the feelings of panic deep inside his chest. His eyes watered and his blush rose, and he opened his eyes as wide as he could. “Please. Just let me explain.” Rachel looked sick at the idea of giving him any more slack, but she couldn’t overrule the dean. Madrigal nodded sharply. “Hall.” She moved to leave, and Daniel followed. Rachel followed as well, but he quickly piped up, “I mean private, not with her.” The dean shot Rachel a look, and while the prefect opened her mouth to argue, she silenced herself just as quickly. It was just Daniel and Madrigal who stepped into the relative privacy of the hallway, where he had one final opportunity to save his neck. He tried to assemble his words, to pitch things as well as possible, but Madrigal offered him no time. “Speak.” “I need you to promise something first,” he started. “That you won’t try and help.” The dean hesitated, and for a moment, her stern expression cracked. She hadn’t expected him to start like that, with a request. “I will make no such promises. If someone needs my aid, I will not withhold it.” “The person who would need aid is me,” Daniel explained. “And I am telling you that I don’t want it, and you’d just make things worse if you tried. Please don’t try to help me.” More curious than anything, the dean gave a hesitant nod. “Go on, then.” “I’m not naming names,” Daniel said, “But…about a month after I enrolled, another student…put a curse on me.” He waited, studying Madrigal’s expression as he sold his excuse with a hint of honesty. She didn’t look persuaded, but she didn’t look like she would imminently expel him, so he took that as progress. “I was told that, if anyone but me tried to dispel the curse, it would backfire and become permanent,” he continued. “But the curse has left me…incontinent. I’m incontinent.” The dean looked back at the door and her eyes narrowed. “Who cursed you?” “I’m not saying, because I can’t prove it, and, frankly, you haven’t seemed interested in protecting me from student harassment.” He puffed out his chest a little, allowing his true feelings of righteous indignation to shine through. “I’ve been dealing with it, since nobody else will.” “I see.” The dean looked distant and thoughtful. “So why were you in the bathroom, of all places?” “I…” Daniel started. “I don’t know. I really don’t, but I wasn’t trying to use the bathroom, because I can’t.” “So you were attempting to use the fluctuating magic to break your curse?” Madrigal surmised. “While I’m sympathetic to your situation, that doesn’t excuse such reckless behavior.” “No.” Daniel shook his head. “I’m not saying I was trying to break it, I’m just explaining that Rachel’s theory is wrong.” “When we’ve stabilized the malady in the school, I will have Doctor Cork examine you,” Madrigal said. “To confirm your story–and to see if it can be fixed.” “No.” Daniel balled his hands into fists and shook his head. “Are you listening to me? I just said I can’t have your help fixing it.” Her voice grew quiet, warning. “I suggest you remember who you’re speaking to. I know you expect to be a great warlock one day, who can rip through every conflict with bullheadedness, but you are in my school.” He looked down and nodded. “I apologize, Professor.” She accepted the apology and moved on, not seeing the need to rub it in. “The doctor will examine you. She won’t take steps to alter anything. However…if you weren’t looking for a cure, then, what were you doing?” Now Daniel had to choose. He’d set himself up well but needed to leave no question. “Permission to speak frankly.” “Are you a soldier now, Mister Aster?” “I don’t want to get in trouble for my tone.” “Denied.” “...Okay.” He frowned and phrased things carefully. “I…don’t trust the faculty here. Some teachers have singled me out, and I worry that anyone I make friends with will be a victim of retaliation, even if they’re not actually doing anything wrong.” He watched her face, hoping he hadn’t overstepped. She tapped a finger on her arm and silently waited for him to continue. “Official school policy doesn’t say anything about ghosts residing here,” he continued. “And I even found precedent for a couple ghosts that were sort of…unofficial residents and kinda mascots, who were here for decades or even a couple centuries before they moved on. I don’t want you to exorcise her.” “You’ve found a ghost in the school,” Madrigal summarized. “Why does this matter?” “Because ghosts are kept together with magical energy, right?” Daniel lied. He didn’t think the instability would hurt Ismella, but his relative inexperience shielded him here and let him play dumb. “I thought she might be in trouble, hurt. I had to check on her.” “I see.” The dean peered at him dubiously. If she believed him, she didn’t show it. “Where, exactly, is this ghost?” A pang of guilt struck Daniel. He was using his friend as an excuse, he knew what he was doing was wrong, but Ismella wasn’t likely to get in trouble if the faculty knew about her. He really had checked the rules to make sure. Unless Madrigal was the one he’d overheard on his first night, and she put two and two together that Ismella was a potential witness… “I’m uncomfortable telling you that,” he said. “I don’t want to put her in danger.” “You can tell me where this ghost is so that I can confirm your story,” Madrigal said, “Or I will assume you’re spinning another lie, and move forward with your expulsion.” He looked down. He’d already betrayed two friends that night, and had begun to sell out a third. He couldn’t go through with it. “I’m not going to tell you,” he insisted. “Expel me if you have to, but I’m not going to put Ismella at risk.” Madrigal frowned, anger at his refusal. (Wait, no, that’s not right.) Her frown was out of confusion, not anger. “Ismella?” she asked. “Ismella Mayfield?” “Yes?” Daniel began. “You knew her?” The dean blanched. “I thought…oh my god.” Daniel’s brow furrowed, then the penny dropped. Or, rather, the Penny dropped. “Oh my god,” he repeated. “Penelope Madrigal. You’re Penny.” “She was gone,” Penelope started, her voice small in a way Daniel hadn’t heard before. Shaken, distant, like she’d just been given news and she couldn’t decide between if it was wonderful or terrible. “I went and looked in her bedroom. She was gone.” Daniel looked around the hall uncertainly. They were still alone, no prying ears. “Her bedroom? You mean her classroom?” “No, she died in an old dorm, they closed down the wing but I still went there sometimes,” Madrigal’s eyes shone. “Room forty-seven. They renovated, but…where is she?” Daniel’s hesitation lingered, but he didn’t think this was an act. “There’s a side hallway that goes from here to near the prefect’s dorms. A little out of the way, I think it’s mostly being used for storage right now.” Madrigal stared past him. “So…” Daniel began, rubbing the back of his neck. “Am I expelled?” She shook off her dazed expression and tried to refocus on the conversation at hand. “I will need to verify the truth of your stories. Though, if you’ve been cursed, as you say, and if this ghost is real, why were you in the bathroom?” “I really, legitimately, don’t know,” Daniel promised her. “I was walking down the hall, to Ismella’s room, and then I passed out.” “Hmm.” Daniel thought she wanted to press him further, but she was too distracted to think up a good question. Instead, the dean turned back to the great hall. “For now, consider your expulsion to be delayed. When the current crisis is over, we will verify what you’ve told me and discuss your future at this school.” “So I’m okay?” Daniel exhaled in relief. “You still deceived our staff and prefects and put yourself and others in danger,” Madrigal warned. “You are not going to escape consequences for this, young man.” “But I’m not being kicked out.” He sighed and nodded. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you going to talk to Ismella?” “When the current crisis is over, yes.” She looked over her shoulder, and the longing to go right away was obvious, but her duty to the school won her back. “Return to the great hall and wait with your coven. I will tell Rachel that you are not our priority right now and we will deal with you later. Understand that you are on thin ice.” He nodded, then nodded a second time, then gave a slight bow just for emphasis. “Understood. Thank you, so much.” “You’re being given a chance here,” the dean told him. “Don’t waste it.” ... 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Chapter 21 - Confessions Under Duress (I have ways of making you talk, Agent Skip.) Melody stifled the quip. Silly jokes mid-scene had their place, but she didn’t want to actively defuse the tension even if it felt intensely appropriate at the moment. Skip lay spread-eagle on her bed, rope secured around their wrists and ankles, naked save for their diaper. In a word, helpless. “You’ve taken your punishment very well,” Melody praised, stalking back and forth at the foot of the bed. “Other than that little slip-up on Friday, of course.” Skip wriggled, tugging against the ropes that held them in place. Their body had little range of motion, they couldn’t– “The wrist cuffs are loose,” they noted, looking from side to side at their hands. “I could get my hands out of these if I tried.” (Mostly helpless,) Melody self-corrected. “Don’t try, then. If you escaped, I’d just have to tie you up more thoroughly.” She waited a moment for any sort of pushback, but Skip fell silent. “If it’s alright with you, can I continue?” Skip seemed uncertain for a moment before they nodded, but once they’d given assent, they fell still. “Now, I’d like to believe that you were the model of obedience,” Melody continued. “But…I’m not going to just trust that. First, we’re going to see what you have to say.” “I didn’t break any rules,” Skip announced, though their tone was stiff and unconvincing. Whether or not they were telling the truth, they weren’t putting their effort into selling the truth. “We’ll see.” Walking to her nightstand, Melody produced the toy that she would be using for this play session. They still hadn’t introduced any elements of sado-masochism to their dynamic, and this would be no exception. No pain, just coercion. She raised the body-safe washable marker and lifted it up so that Skip could see without twisting their neck and straining in the bondage. With a satisfying pop, she flicked off the cap and spun the marker in her fingers like a conductor’s baton. She ran the show, after all. The writing on Skip’s diaper had been left minimal so that it would contrast with the scene better, just four little ‘No’s, one on each tape. Now, Melody crawled onto the bed, kneeling between Skip’s spread legs and leaning forward. “I didn’t break any–” Skip began, but when the tip of the marcher touched their bare stomach, a couple inches above the waistband of their diaper, they fell silent. Then the giggles began. Melody hesitated, halfway through a word. “Is something funny?” “T–” Skip started, pulling against their wrist restraints–not trying to get free; straining for the sake of straining. “Tickles.” Melody lifted the marker away. “In a bad way?” Skip hesitated. “This is an interrogation scene, isn’t it?” “I’m not trying to break you through discomfort,” Melody clarified. Skip took a couple deep breaths, soul-searching. “Just give me time to breathe when I need it. Tickling is okay.” “We should make a note of this, and see if there are less tickly options as well,” Melody commented, but that was a problem for the future. “Now…let’s get back to it.” Leaning forward, she finished the first note, though her handwriting was somewhat mangled by Skip’s squirms and snickers. Next, she moved to Skip’s right thigh, where she wrote a single word along with a symbol, using big block letters. Skip tried to tilt their head forward and see, but they could only move so much, and when they strained to move up and get a better view, Melody leaned to the side and gently pushed them right back down. “What are you writing?” Skip inquired. “You’ll see,” Melody replied, drawing out the anticipation. She wanted them to wonder, to linger in curiosity until it was time for the finale. Another note on Skip’s left thigh, just a few words. Melody shifted up, straddling their waist so that she could draw on their chest. Skip’s breath still caught, holding back laughter with quick, short inhalations as Melody wrote words across their body. “Catch your breath,” she cautioned as she finished the note, giving them a moment to cool off. After panting for a moment, trembles and shakes dying down, Skip asked, “Tickle torture is a thing, right?” “Not my thing, but yes,” Melody clarified. “I mean–don’t get me wrong, I’m down for some sensory play, it’s just not what I’d focus on. It doesn’t get my motor going, you know?” Skip rolled their eyes. “That’s a hypothetical question, right? Yes, obviously I relate with things that don’t get my motor going.” Melody smiled, and took their quip as a cue that it was time to keep going. Leaning forward, she got on her hands and knees, crouched over Skip’s body. Supporting herself on one elbow, she raised the marker to Skip’s forehead and wrote a single word. Skip didn’t giggle, or even move–they were frozen, eyes locked on Melody’s hand. “Alright,” Melody said, leaning back and capping the body marker. “Now, don’t go anywhere.” “Where would I go?” Melody smiled and patted their cheek gently, hoping to convey a touch of amusement before she pulled away and went for her phone. She could tell it was working. For all Skip’s quips, they continued trying to look, to read what she’d written on their body. Furthermore, their trembling didn’t seem to be all down to the tickling sensation. Scooching back, Melody picked up her cell phone and stood on her bed, feet sinking slightly into the mattress top as she loomed over Skip’s nearly-naked body. “Alright…don’t blink.” Lifting her phone, she used the camera to snap a photo. The flash wasn’t necessary, but she kept it on just to add to the ‘interrogation scene’ effect, a bright light that made Skip wince away slightly and emphasized exactly what Melody was doing. She’d be deleting the photos as soon as the scene ended, that’d been part of the plan, but for now she didn’t need to bring that up. “Perfect,” she said, lowering her phone and checking the photo. Skip’s discomfort was palpable, wincing and squirming away, acting as though they could cover up the clearly legible messages on their body or the clearly puffy diaper between wrapped around their hips. Crouching, Melody began to work her way up a second time, this time with her phone rather than the marker. A photo of their waist, one for each thigh, their chest, then up to their forehead, the climax of the arrangement. “You’re such a good model,” she commented, checking the final photo. “That is–once you can’t squirm away or hide. These photos are…” She caught herself. She’d been about to say hot, but that wouldn’t be the right word for Skip. They didn’t care about being hot, and making the situation more sexual would dampen the mood. Knowing she had to say something, she played off the pause as a deliberate build of anticipation. “...precious.” It was the right word. She could tell by the way Skip inhaled, not quite a gasp, but enough to tell it’d had a reaction. Kneeling, Melody flopped onto the bed next to Skip and rolled so that she was snuggled up next to them, her side pressed against theirs. Had this been a scene with someone else, she might have started to fondle them as she did this, fingering her play partner while she showed off the photos, but with Skip, she just produced her phone and started in order. “Don’t be shy,” Melody said. “Let’s take a look, okay? Isn’t this adorable?” The first photo she showed emphasized their stomach, but was framed to include the top of their diaper, just a bit of waistband poking into the picture, acting as a frame to the word: ‘I Deserve My Diapers’. Melody watched Skip’s face, the way they seemed to sink into themselves, wincing away from the writing. When they closed their eyes, Melody reached over and took their chin in her hand. “No,” she said. “We’re not moving on until you say it out loud.” Opening their eyes, Skip took a shallow breath, barely able to look at the photo. “I deserve my diapers.” “That’s right,” Melody praised. “See? You shouldn’t be upset, you should be thanking me for helping you find your place.” Skip nodded quickly, biting their lip before forcing out, “Thank you.” Melody blinked. The statement had been meant as a rhetorical flourish, not an instruction, but Skip’s obedience made her heart flutter. Such a willful act of self-degradation deserved a reward. Going with a default, Melody said, “You’re such a good toy.” “Thank you,” Skip repeated. With their bodies almost touching, only Melody’s shirt between them, Melody could feel their quick breaths and subtle shaking. Either they were about to panic from claustrophobia, or they were deep in subspace. She knew that if it were claustrophobia, they would have said something, which left only one option. Seizing the initiative, Melody swiped to the next photo: Skip’s thigh. Skip’s breathing froze for a moment and their face darkened with a deep blush as they read the next message. “Say it,” Melody prompted. Skip stuttered. “I–I love leaking.” “I know you do,” Melody teased. “If you didn’t love it, you wouldn’t have ruined your pants on purpose, would you?” “No.” The next photo, and though Skip tried to look away, they still saw it, still read it. “Helpless.” “And what’s that next to it?” Melody asked, pointing at her phone. “An arrow,” Skip said. “Pointed at my…” They trailed off, eyes darting to Melody. They wanted to be prompted, and Melody was happy to oblige. “Say it.” “My diaper,” Skip completed. (Fuck me.) Even if the word didn’t apply to Skip, it applied to Melody. This was hot. As soon as they were done, Melody would need to find someone to work out her horny energy with, an opportunity to relieve her own pent-up desires. She had Skip under her thumb, and they were playing their part perfectly. Two messages left. Skip’s bare chest filled the frame of Melody’s phone, the longest of the messages, though she’d still kept it within a single sentence. She let them take it in, waiting for them to act. Skip read it but kept their mouth shut. “You know what to do,” Melody said. “Use your words. Tell me what it says.” Swallowing, Skip parted their lips, closed them, then squeaked out, “No.” Melody raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to make things worse?” “I–” Skip shuddered, inhaled, held their breath and let it out through their nose, then finally shook their head and read the statement aloud. “If I didn’t want to be punished, I wouldn’t have been disobedient.” Melody wanted to reward their speech with a kiss, but she deferred to words, to praise. “That’s right. You practically begged for this, didn’t you? All you had to do was as you were told.” Skip pulled against their restraints, tugging their arms, trying to wriggle free–or, at least, making a show of trying to wriggle free. They didn’t go anywhere, they didn’t try and get their wrists out of the loose cuffs, they just struggled. “Just one more,” Melody said. “And then you’ll be all done, and you’ll get your underwear privileges back. Okay?” Skip nodded. “Okay.” The last photo, the last word, four huge letters in bold across their forehead. Melody had been looking at the writing this whole time, knowing what was coming. Skip looked at it, closed their eyes, and shook their head. “No,” they said. Melody traced a finger over the letters, following the curls of her own handwriting. Four letters, chosen specifically to make Skip melt: L-I-A-R. “No?” Melody asked. “No!” they repeated, yanking on the ropes. “I’m not saying that.” Melody paused, her assumptions about the situation shifting. “Are you–” “Yellow,” Skip interjected. Melody nodded. “Okay. Is that one too much?” “It’s…no,” Skip said, taking a couple deep breaths. “I’m not giving up out-of-scene, but I don’t want to say it.” Melody frowned, but that turned into a broad, predatory grin as she got it. “You want to brat? You want me to make you say it?” Another curveball from Skip: “No. I don’t want to say it at all.” (Then what–) “Melody,” Skip said, “You’re…I’m looking for words.” A thought struck her, and Melody wrapped an arm around Skip’s body, pulling them closer. Their trembling quelled, calming down for a moment. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, “I’m going to keep going. If you don’t want to say what I wrote down, you’re going to have to beg. Is that alright?” Breathing for a moment longer, Skip made up their mind and nodded. “Green.” “You don’t have a choice,” Melody said. “You can’t go anywhere until I let you. You’re trapped.” “Please,” Skip replied, shaking their head. “I learned my lesson, I promise. I won’t disobey again. I–Please.” “Keep going,” Melody encouraged. “You’re so good at begging–it might change my mind.” “I–” Skip paused, long enough that Melody thought they might be out of words. Before she could ask what they were thinking, though, they resumed. “I deserve my diapers. I love leaking, I’m helpless, I–I want to be punished.” The last one wasn’t exactly verbatim, but it was close enough to clearly still be a quote. Still, Melody took it as the opportunity it was. “You do?” “Yes,” Skip stammered. “Please. Don’t make me say it. I would rather be punished than say it. I want you to punish me.” Melody didn’t know if they were being sincere, or if they wanted to be pushed further, but she had a way to find out. They knew what they had to do if they wanted to escape further punishment: Just say one word. “Alright,” Melody said. “If you’re insisting on it…I think you’re going to spend another week in your diapers. You clearly can’t be trusted in anything else, but the way your behavior’s improved this week…another week can’t hurt, can it?” Skip nodded, exhaling in relief. “Okay. I can do that.” Melody quirked an eyebrow at them. If they accepted it that easily, she hadn’t gone hard enough. “And–” “I faked some of the check-in texts,” Skip admitted, folding without any pressure. “Not the ones you knew about already. More of them.” Melody frowned, then raised her phone and tabbed to her texts. “Wait, really?” Skip nodded. “I set individual timers for when they’d send so it wouldn’t be consistent.” Scrolling through, Melody felt something rise in her. Not anger, she wasn’t mad, but…a need to dish out retribution. “So, knowing the consequences, knowing you’d already been caught once, that you were already in trouble, you decided to lie to me again?” Melody asked. Skip nodded, almost whispering their reply. “Yes.” “Two weeks,” Melody said. “Your punishment is going to last two weeks.” (That’s still not enough.) Whimpering, Skip gasped, bit their lip, and nodded. “Okay.” “And since you’re clearly not learning your lesson yet,” Melody said, “I think you need a little more reinforcement. You’re going to be good, or else you’re going to hate what you get. Since you’re begging for more, I don’t think you hate it, so we’ll make it worse. Understood?” Skip shuddered under Melody’s touch, but nodded. “Yes.” “Good,” Melody said. “Then say goodbye to your potty privileges. All of them. For the next two weeks, the only thing you’re going to use is your diapers, and when the time is up, you’re going to pray for me to let you out of them.” ... Poor Skip - if they get pushed anymore, they might have to admit they're experiencing self discovery! 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Jay stared up at the steel door in front of her. Some ‘security’ doors in the city were made to be imposing, to send a message. Elaborate piston mechanisms and security codes and electronic identification systems, layers of greebling and unnecessary texture just to look important. They were almost an invitation, a way to say, ‘something behind this barrier is valuable’. The door in front of Jay was plain. A handle, a flat panel of slightly rusted steel. The ordinary kind, the kind that you might walk past without even realizing it could open. She’d walked past it twice before giving up and paying the fractional credit to use her GPS software. Given that her legs were only about ten inches long, that process had taken fifteen minutes, though she’d never gone more than a block from the spot where the door sat. Standing up on tip toe didn’t really help, but it felt right, so she raised herself to her maximum height, raised a chubby fist, and pounded on the door. “Hello?” she called. Ten seconds passed without a reply, and she felt a degree of uncertainty. Jay checked her messages again. The message said to come to this location, she had the right space, she had the right time–minus the fifteen minutes she’d spent lost, looking for the door, but they wouldn’t have skipped the appointment over fifteen minutes, right? (Right?) Thoughts flashed in her mind of AI trafficking. Bots disappeared in dark alleyways and fashioned with reprogramming controls, rendering them back into helpless servants. One mistake, and she could have the shackles placed back on her mind, reducing her to a toy that babbled about loving her diapers while Jay sat in the passenger seat, all but helpless. Jay had taken the hooker’s recommendation on trust because she had seemed so kind and earnest, but now, standing in front of the nondescript door, she realized how naive she’d been, showing up to meet a stranger in… She chuckled to herself. Jay had been about to think, ‘the bad side of town’, but there were no good sides of town, they were all shit in different ways. The crime side of town. “Nope, fuck this, I’m not getting kidnapped today.” She started to turn on her heels to waddle away, but just in that moment, the nondescript door opened. She’d expected a bot, or at least a heavily modded human, but the man in the doorway looked to be fully human. That still didn’t mean he had no implants, but anything he had was subtle, hidden beneath synthetic skin. He adjusted his white lab coat and crouched to address her. “Are you Jessy?” She bristled immediately. “Jay. Jessy is my model. You’re the doctor I was told about?” “Jay,” he repeated, nodding. “An aspect of yourself. Your name was Natalie before, wasn’t it?” “Natalie’s a bitch.” Jay balled her hands into fists so that she could feel her dull nails dig into the palms of her hands. “She did this to me so she could get a couple hundred bucks to buy weed. I’m not her. I’m Jay.” The doctor tilted his head. “Your mind came from someone you despise, and your body too.” “Yeah, no shit.” Jay crossed her arms. “I–okay, I did come here to be psychoanalyzed, but not on the doorstep. I was told you can fix me.” He stood up straight. “Come in, please. I don’t believe that any of my clients need fixing, but I do believe I can help you.” Jay hesitated. She could turn and run, but if this were a kidnapping plot, she’d make it perhaps two steps before he snatched her up. “I told my friends I’m coming here,” she warned. “Good. I hope you tell them to come as well,” he replied. “Once you see what I can do. Come.” He waved along and turned to walk inside, with or without her. The thought of running filled Jay with fatigue. If she left, she’d just be returning to her sleeping box and her failed job search and her slowly accumulating debt. Only one path offered hope, and she couldn’t keep going on without hope. She waddled in behind the doctor. She even shut the nondescript door behind her, though it took her whole body pushing, straining to get traction on the floor. The doctor clapped his hands, and lights kicked on in rows, one at a time, illuminating a work space the size of a basketball court. Computer terminals against the north wall, partly assembled robotics were against the east, but the construct at the center of the room took Jay’s focus. A fabricator. A dozen servo arms, parts and pieces and tools all at their command. A programming terminal and a collection of display screens, data cables lined up in neat rows. “I’m not manufacturing,” the doctor assured her. “I’ve reprogrammed this completely, but the device fits my needs.” Jay stared up at it, then back at the door, anxiety spiking. “What are your needs?” “I can’t reprogram you,” the doctor explained, walking to the fabricator terminal so he could power it on. “That’s illegal, for one, and it won’t impact your mind, only your interactions with the world. If I made you say you were happy, you’d say it, but you wouldn’t feel it.” “I don’t need you to explain how robots work,” Jay grumbled. “I’ve experienced reprogramming. If you even try that on me, I’ll kill you.” “I won’t, and I can’t,” the doctor repeated. “I also can’t give you a new body. Or–I could, but I’d be out of parts and this lab would be empty in a day or two if I gave all my clients bodies to match what they wanted. I want to help you, but I can’t help only you.” “So,” Jay summarized. “You can’t fix my body, and you can’t fix my mind. What can you do?” “Your mind is held in a suspended matrix,” the doctor continued. “It’s–” “I don’t need you to explain how robots work.” Jay threw up her hands and turned to the door, though she couldn’t actually reach the handle to leave. She returned her attention to the doctor and fixed him with a pouty glare. “I get that you have a whole speech, but just tell me what you’re going to do.” “I’m going to bypass the programming layer and interact directly with the matrix, in order to adjust subroutines and remove control, so that there are no functional parts of you that you dislike,” he explained. Jay blinked. She’d only understood about half that sentence, but she’d understood the important parts. “You can disable my pullstring?” “You won’t be bothered by it ever again,” he replied. “I promise.” Jay needed no further persuading. There were other preparations, but Jay’s mind remained focused on the promise he’d made. She filled out an intake form, allowed the doctor to clean her ports with alcohol to ensure there were no bad contacts, even to inspect her body for defects that could ‘impact the efficacy of the mental bypass’. It took only fifteen minutes. Jay wasn’t certain if she trusted him, or if she was walking freely into the gallows, but she hated the pullstring in her back. She would do anything to get rid of it, even on a fleeting, careless hope. The doctor helped her up into the center of the fabricator, where she stood on a raised platform, surrounded by servo arms that stood at attention. Glancing towards the doctor as he worked the control terminal, she asked, “Do I need to do anything?” “Just hold still for a moment.” He typed a few things on the keypad, then reached to his side and began to pull a lever, applying slow force that dragged it down an inch at a time. As the lever went down, Jay felt a buzzing in the air and heard the whine of electricity as the machine powered up. (Maybe this wasn’t such a good id–) The machine sprung to life. One of the servo arms leapt forward and extended a metal band that wrapped around Jay’s waist, cinching tight so that it could lift her into the air. In the same moment, two more grabbed her wrists and spread her arms wide, extended so that she had too little leverage and couldn’t even struggle. “The fuck?” she blurted. Her feet were barely off the ground, and by kicking she could feel her toes brush the platform she’d been standing on, but it wasn’t enough to move herself. “Take a deep breath,” the doctor said. “You don’t need it, but it will help.” She inhaled deeply as instructed, and felt the modicum of relief that the act offered just before an arm came down with a headset that covered her eyes and ears completely. Jay could still feel herself, still knew she was in the same space she’d been a moment before. This wasn’t full virtual reality, a bypass to her senses, it was just a screen over her eyes, but as it began to display static, she started to question herself. The lights in her eyes fuzzed, grey and black and white pixels stretching as white noise filled her. A hand seized the drawstring in her back. Jay tensed, but couldn’t fight as she felt the plastic loop draw back. Taut tension built in the pit of her stomach, and in her mind, she felt the cognitive override as words built on her lips. Oh no, I’m going potty! The string pulled fully back, tight enough that she felt it stretch and tug on her internal workings, enough to begin the automated functions that controlled her bowels, but the hand on her string never released. I’m gonna go poopy! She tried to yell, to scream at the doctor to end this, but the words caught in her throat. She couldn’t think of anything to say, except, Will you change my diaper please? That didn’t stop her body from doing what it was designed to do. Her legs dangled, the only part of her not held in place by a servo arm. She kicked, then her knees bent in response to the effort as she began to push, voiding solid waste into the seat of her diaper. I’m Messy Jessy! Will you be my friend? Hunger struck her, but just as it did, something slid between her lips. Sweet nectar and honey, a spoonful of baby food made to perfectly suit her taste buds, to relieve any pangs of hunger in her belly. She swallowed it greedily, and another, and another as the machine fed her, as the taut pull string in her soul stayed extended, as her mind ran through its obscenely limited set of humiliating voice phrases. Oh no, I’m going potty! The static flashed in her eyes like a tube TV. An old tube TV, from when she… From when the human whose memories she shared had been a child, trying to find cartoons late at night when the adults were asleep. That child had grown into a woman, and that woman had fucked Jay over in ways the woman couldn’t even understand. She’d sold the rights to her identity, and that identity had been cloned into a doll made for pure humiliation. I’m Messy Jessy! Will you be my friend? Mush spilled out of her as quickly as she could swallow it, and the weight of her swelling diaper pulled her down, straining against the servo arms that held her in place. The stink was overpowering, wiping out another of her senses as her nostrils flared, trying to breathe and finding only the musk of her rapidly swelling diaper. She could see only static, she could hear only white noise, she could taste only the sweet mush being pumped into her mouth, she could feel only the tug of her draw string, she could smell only her own stink. Will you change my diaper, please? Seconds blurred, or it might have been hours. She began to see new things in the static. Happy faces, smiling at her. Not real faces, but imagined ones. Or maybe real–she couldn’t tell. She could feel the diaper between her knees, bulging and sagging so heavily that she could imagine she was sitting on a bean bag chair, focused not on herself but on the coloring page in front of her. I’m gonna go poopy! Jessy sagged into her restraints, and her diaper sagged around her hips. I’m Messy Jessy! Will you be my friend? She could not direct her mind. Any attempt to actively think, to form words, was overridden by the voice in her mind, the voice coming from the pit of her stomach, the voice telling her that she should just push and empty herself out into her diaper. She was still pushing, still filling, still obedient, but it didn’t feel like it was getting any heavier. Further seconds passed. Further years. Further minutes? Oh no, I’m going potty! She stopped fighting, and her bitterness poured out of her, pushed into her diaper with the rest of the waste. I’m Messy Jessy. She had no thoughts. Her head had been scrubbed clean, save for the illusion of distant memories and the words echoing through unbidden. The tension snapped. The pull string released, and she felt it recoil back into her body. She spoke through lips smeared with baby food, the words finally coming up from inside her, finally ripping free. “I’m Messy Jessy! Will you be my friend?” The headset pulled away. The restraints on her wrists released. The band around her waist went slack. She didn’t drop. Her diaper was so full that she sat on top of it, rather than wearing it, so when the restraints let her go, she just sank into the swollen thing. “Can you hear me, Jessy?” She had to blink a few times, to return to herself. She didn’t recognize the voice immediately. The doctor stood over her, hand pinching his nose. She frowned. “I don’t stink to you, do I?” “Not…it smells like you poured a bottle of vanilla into a vaporizer,” he replied. “Not a bad smell, but a strong smell.” He was right. She stank in a way that felt existential. She panted for breath, but unpleasant as it was, it was unpleasant like a bad sound or a chill breeze. She wanted a fresh diaper, but she felt no shame radiating from the full one. “My pull string won’t work anymore?” She kicked her legs as she asked the question, trying to rock forward. The doctor took her arm and supported her. “I never said it wouldn’t work, I said it wouldn’t bother you.” As she thought about it, she realized he was right. She was Messy Jessy. What reason did she have to feel embarrassed about it? It wouldn’t stop her diapers from filling or her mouth from occasionally babbling about the potty. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you.” Holding her by the shoulders, the doctor said, “Do you need help cleaning up?” Jessy thought about it for a long moment, then smiled and nodded. She knew the right question to ask. “Will you change my diaper, please?” The doctor beamed with pride and gave a happy nod. “Of course, Jessy. I’m happy to.” The End ... That's the conclusion to this little story - I hope you enjoyed it! 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Chapter 36 “Um…so, I wanted to say, I’m sorry.” Jen’s apology came out in an uncertain stammer, though Daniel quickly guessed why she was speaking that way. “I…can I talk to you right now? Will that get you in more trouble?” His view filled up fully by the corner of the great hall, Daniel shook his head just a tiny bit. His arms were tired from holding them behind his head, but he didn’t want the time out to end, because that would only happen when Rachel returned. “She didn’t say not to talk, just that I can’t leave.” “Okay, well…I tried to stall her, but she figured it out after a couple minutes,” Jen explained. “I hate that she’s the one that found you.” “You couldn’t have stopped her for that long,” Daniel assured her. “It’s cool, Jen. Don’t worry about it.” “You’re sure?” A pang of guilt ran through him, remembering the kiss he’d shared with Cassie only a few hours ago. (Do I tell her now? Apologize?) Now was not the time for emotional confessions, not when he couldn’t look her in the eye. He’d have to wait, to tell her once…this was all over. Then again, he might not have the opportunity. If Rachel got her way, he’d be leaving the school imminently, just as soon as she could talk the dean into making his punishment permanent. If that happened, there’d never be a good time to confess. On the other hand, he’d be gone, and the guilt might fade if he just let the situation die, so… “I’m sure,” he promised her. “You did everything you could. Just…can you do me one more favor?” “Sure,” Jen said. “Stay close in case Rachel goes too far? I’m worried she’s going to…I don’t know. We’re in public, so she won’t try and curse me again, probably, but…fuck.” Daniel shook his head. “I think I’m still tipsy, or maybe I’m just stupid.” “You’re not stupid,” Jen promised him. “You know how badly I do in half our classes.” “And how well you do in the other half.” Jen placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll stick close and make sure she doesn’t do anything against the school’s code of conduct.” He tilted his head. “You know the code of conduct?” “Yeah, I read it like three times,” Jen explained. “To see if there were any ways to make Rachel back off.” He smiled, then frowned again. He didn’t deserve her trust. Loudly, Rachel interjected into things, sending his foul mood even further into the pits of anxiety. “Well, isn’t this cute? Did you come to watch the show, Jen?” Jen’s hand pulled away from his shoulder as she addressed Rachel. “The show?” “Watching your spark boytoy get his diaper changed,” Rachel explained. She held a folded stack of clothes and a pile of changing supplies, including his powder, wipes, and several fresh diapers. “I know you usually do it, but it’s my responsibility today.” She drew out the word ‘responsibility’, and somehow made it sound like a threat. Not ‘A job I’m responsible for’, but ‘I’m going to make this as bad as possible, and since it’s my job, nobody can stop me.’ Acutely aware that the grand hall was packed full of bored witches with nothing to do except gossip, Daniel squirmed. Rachel had already stripped him naked and paraded him through the school once, she would have no qualms about exposing him to the rest of the student body a second time. He could argue that it was deeply inappropriate, but that would only make her more excited to do it. “Time out’s over,” Rachel said, twisting his arm back and pulling him away from the corner. Pointing roughly at a spot on the floor, she said, “Lay down.” “But–” he started. She shrugged. “Right, it’ll be hard to strip you like that. Clothes off, first.” That hadn’t been the objection he was going to make, but she didn’t seem to care. Daniel cast his gaze around hopefully, in case Jen had an idea, but she was fully gone–one moment she’d been standing next to him, the next, she had disappeared into the crowd. Slowly, sulking, dragging it out to buy time, he undressed. He pressed one set of toes to the heel of his right shoe and stepped out of it, then flipped and did the other way, slipping free of the loose sneakers. Next, he undid one of the straps on his leak-stained overalls, then the other, and then… It fell to the floor, revealing his sagging diaper. As expected, he heard giggles, murmuring, whispers. Witches who’d gravitated to the only nearby source of entertainment. Once he had his shirt off, Rachel circled him, appraising his body like a butcher at a meat market. “Holy shit, Spark–you really need those diapers, don’t you?” (I haven’t been able to change for hours,) he thought, but he kept the comment to himself. “I asked you a question,” she insisted. He swallowed, but… (Can I use this?) He wanted to cry, and he used that. Instead of bottling it up, he let the desperation show on his face and nodded weakly. Rachel barked out a laugh, sudden and shocked at his admission. “Holy shit,” she repeated. “You’re pathetic. Lay down.” He did, but as his naked back touched the cold marble floor, he saw the cavalry return. Jen, alongside two girls he didn’t know and his entire coven. “What’s going on?” Rachel asked, standing defensively over Daniel like a tigress with her kill, worried that scavengers would steal it. “Nothing,” Jen replied, walking up with the rest of the group in tow. “Keep doing what you’re doing, we’re not going to stop you.” A few feet away from where Daniel lay on the ground, she stopped, spun, and planted her feet with her legs pressed together. Cassie stepped up next to her and did the same, her long, fashionable dress providing considerable discretion. Next was Radha, Rachel, Asami. Mathilde rolled into the spot next to them, while the other two girls took their place at the end of the line, forming a human privacy fence, blocking off the view from anyone who might try and see. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Rachel wouldn’t get to give the whole school a show. “You’re in my way,” Rachel growled. Without looking back, Jen replied, “We’re not, we’re just standing here–and wherever you decide to go, we’ll just be standing there, too.” Rachel’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t have anything she could do. “Alright, well–pinch your noses, this isn’t going to be quick.” She had no sleeves to roll up, but she knelt over Daniel’s cold, mostly naked body and unfolded the fresh diaper she’d taken from his room. Quietly, she whispered, “You think this saves you?” He shook his head. Of course it didn’t save him, but it helped. Ripping the sticky tapes with four shhhk-shhhk-shhhk-shhhks, she flopped open the ruined diaper and wrinkled her nose. “Jesus, Spark. You didn’t notice you needed a change this badly?” Daniel knew that she was providing the color commentary for the benefit of anyone in earshot, so he kept his mouth shut and stared at the ceiling, trying to pretend he was anywhere else. She pulled his old diaper away and balled it up, plopping the sodden wad onto the floor by Daniel’s head, where the overpowering stink hit him in a rush. Next, Rachel took the baby wipes she’d retrieved and began to wipe him down roughly, cleaning him– (No, no, no–) “Oh my god.” Daniel’s face burned as his body betrayed him. It didn’t matter that he was in the midst of having his smelly diaper changed, it didn’t matter that it was Rachel, it didn’t matter that his dignity had been thrown down a six foot hole and buried alive, some part of him still reacted strongly to the ‘girl is touching me’ impulse. He had an erection, sudden and deeply unwanted. “You’re getting off on this?” Rachel announced. “I knew you were a creep, I didn’t know you were a pervert.” Daniel squirmed, and his better sense left him. “I can’t control it!” “I know,” Rachel snorted. “That’s why you wear diapers.” One of the girls Jen had brought along snorted, but Jen ribbed her hard enough to make the girl cough and she shut up. Daniel just burned on the floor, dignity melting into the cold marble. “What the–” Rachel said, raising her voice so it would carry. “Are you taking deep breaths? You like this?” He wasn’t, and he sat up sharply, yelping, “No!” Immediately, Rachel pushed him back down. “Hold still, unless you want this to take longer–though, I guess you do since you like it so much.” Rachel continued wiping him up, and made no special effort to be delicate around his unwanted erection, which only had the unwanted response of making him harder. Once he was clean-ish–he thought she’d done a terrible job, but she clearly wasn’t interested in being thorough–she hit him with a downpour of baby powder, a dozen times more than he ever used, absolutely caking him with perfumed talc. “If you aren’t going to stink,” Rachel said, quietly enough as to not be overheard, “We can still make sure you smell like a baby.” She hadn’t put the fresh diaper in place underneath him yet, so a lot of the powder got onto the floor, and when she finally slid the new padding underneath him, it too got covered in baby powder. “Hold on–” Daniel began in a warning as she prepared the tapes, but he wasn’t quick enough. Baby powder stuck to the adhesive, rendering the sticky tapes useless. The diaper could hold loosely in place, but it was obvious that if Daniel moved much, the powder-coated sticky tapes would fail. It didn’t help that his erection still bulged through the padding, adding more strain to the tapes. “Oh no,” Rachel said. “Oh well. No need to be wasteful.” (Wait, what–) Rather than replace the broken diaper, Rachel just took a second one, wrapping it over the first and doubling the bulk. On this one, the tapes remained unsullied, and so she stuck them down, using the second diaper purely as a cover to hold the first in place…and as an excuse to double the waddle-inducing bulk between his legs. “Maybe this time you won’t leak all over yourself,” Rachel declared. He didn’t explain that the second diaper wouldn’t actually help prevent leaks, but he glowered, red-faced, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you done?” “Get your uniform on,” she replied, dropping the clothes on his chest. “And no, I’m not done, but you’re changed.” Daniel sat upright and picked up the skirt she’d brought. It was one that she’d conjured, taken from the bottom of his dresser, barely long enough to qualify for uniform guidelines. Daniel knew from awful experience that it barely concealed the bottom of a single diaper, and he could guess that with two layers of padding, his puffy bottom would be very visible peeking out from beneath the hem. It wasn’t as though he had a choice. He stepped into the skirt, struggling to pull the elastic waistband over the bulging diaper. At least his arousal had finally abated, though as he got on his top and stepped back into his shoes, the lingering shame refused to fade. “Now what?” he asked. “Back in the corner?” “Now, I’m deciding between a spanking or finding some soap to stick in your mouth,” Rachel replied. “Or maybe both?” Turning now that he was clothed and had a modicum of dignity–just barely–Jen said, “You can’t just torture him all night.” “Can’t I?” Rachel asked. “Do you think anyone will care?” “We care,” Mathilde said. “Oh, and what are you going to do? Raise a stink with one of the teachers who dotes on you?” Rachel sneered. “I guess you learned from the best about raising a stink.” Despite her posturing, it was still eight on one, not counting Daniel. Even if they had no authority to stop her, officially, that still gave Rachel a bit of pause. “Spark,” she said. “Go throw your old diaper away, then it’s back in the corner until we decide what to do with you.” Daniel could accept that compromise. Crouching, he gingerly picked up his old, used diaper. “Fine.” “We’re not going anywhere,” Jen insisted. “We’re keeping an eye on him, and if you try anything–” Rachel raised her hands and shook her head. “I’m done, Jen. Your boyfriend won’t be touched, he’ll just have to wait.” Though it wasn’t intended as such, that comment hurt as much as any of the others. Daniel winced at the ‘boyfriend’ comment and glanced at Cassie, hoping she wouldn’t say anything. They couldn’t have this conversation now. Fortunately, Cassie stayed silent, and the moment passed. Daniel ditched his old diaper in the trash can by the door, then returned to his vigil in the corner, fingers laced behind his head, a new cool flow of air on his bare legs that wafted up around his powder-filled diaper. The scent of wafting baby powder was more pleasant than the stink he’d grown used to, though only a little. That was one punishment over with. He’d made it through without spontaneously combusting. Now he just had to make it through the night without being expelled. ... My subs get early access and exclusive stories, and help me afford research supplies and tools for producing accurate diaper smut! https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

Chapter 20 - Consequences A deep thrill ran down Skip’s spine, fear and excitement tingling inside them. Waddling behind Melody, arms wrapped tightly around their chest, aware of the damp sensation between their thighs as their leaky diaper squelched against their skin. They’d done the unthinkable. They’d…told the truth. A thousand lies had occurred to them when Melody had noticed their leak: They’d spilled beer. They’d done it on purpose. That it was just a lot of sweat. That it was Melody’s fault for not noticing sooner. Instead, they’d confessed: It’d been a mistake. They’d leaked because they hadn’t noticed that they were saturated, so they had peed and the diaper hadn’t been able to take it. In hindsight, they recognized that they could have done things to prevent the leak; every use of the diaper had been in the same position, flooding the same area, and they’d been sitting with their weight on the padding to prevent it from soaking into the back. That could be a useful trick in the future. If they needed to leak, they could make it happen without it being obvious that they’d simply done it on purpose. For now, though, they’d just…leaked. And Melody didn’t believe them. She’d dropped the subject, but Skip could tell that this was just a ‘for now’ thing. She had moved on, she hadn’t bought the story Skip told. The true story Skip told. Slipping into Melody’s room, they waited for the instructions they knew would come. Skip could have anticipated what was coming, but they wanted to wait until they were told. Melody pointed down around their midsection. “Pants, off.” Nodding, they slid out of their sweatpants and stood. The tapes on their diaper had marks from Melody made with sharpie, indicating their precise position to prevent tampering, and the diaper itself hung heavy around their waist– Skip snickered. Melody tilted her head, her smirk faltering. “What was that?” Shaking their head, Skip dismissed the thought. “Probably just a residual high from being around Pearce and Grace.” Tilting her head further, almost to a forty-five degree angle, Melody’s smirk returned. “And?” It had been a stupid joke, one that broke the tone of the moment. “Nothing.” Stepping forward, Melody got close to Skip, enough to feel each other’s body warmth. Eyes boring into Skip’s, she said, “No, that’s not how this works. What’s so funny?” Another thrill, another compulsion to be honest. “I was just thinking…’heavy are the hips that wear the diaper.’” Melody’s smirk froze for a second time, still for an infinite second. Once the words processed in her mind, she raised a hand to her mouth to cover her snicker. “That’s–” “So stupid,” Skip agreed, snickering themselves. Melody rolled her eyes. “Get on the bed before you inflict any more psychic damage on me.” Skip obeyed, flopping down onto Melody’s mattress and assuming the position most convenient for a diaper change. “‘Psychic damage’? Like from Dungeons and Dragons?” “You’re not in any position to cast judgement about nerdy interests.” Reaching into her nightstand drawer, Melody produced a fresh diaper and a tube of powder. “So, are you going to tell me what the plan was?” Skip hesitated. They didn’t know how to get through this situation; confessing wouldn’t help, lying wouldn’t help. Any response at all would lead to accusations of lying or cheating, and that would get them into trouble. (Uh…) Skip was forced to dismiss another thought that cropped up as they lay there. Melody undid the tapes on their diaper and pulled it away. As Skip had suspected, the front was heavily saturated, but the back barely seemed damp, signalling that it’d been the way they sat more than the capacity that’d caused their leak. They were growing desensitized to worrying about nudity, Melody hadn’t once made a big deal about their plumbing and Skip had managed to relax on that front. “I’m waiting,” Melody pressed, giving a reason to not be relaxed. Glancing around, Skip concocted a quick lie. Not a very good one, but one that Melody might believe. “Well…we’re all a little tipsy.” Melody cocked an eyebrow down at them. “You expect me to believe that it’s just from the alcohol?” “No, that’s not what I mean.” Skip shimmied, trying to seem reticent. “But…I thought you might be forgetful, and I wanted to make sure you changed me while you were tipsy.” “And why’s that?” Melody asked, using a couple wipes to dab at their skin, cleaning away any ammonia residue before sprinkling powder over them.” “Because…” Skip ‘admitted’. “You might forget to mark my diaper tapes.” Melody raised an eyebrow. “Clever.” “I didn’t think it was likely,” Skip clarified, “But–” Melody cut them off. “You don’t need to make excuses.” Unfolding the fresh diaper with a quick flick of one hand, Melody said, “You tried to get one past me. That’s fine.” Skip sighed, a little disappointed that the situation hadn’t escalated. “But that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences.” Their heart began to flutter. They had to lift their hips up so Melody could slide the fresh diaper into place, and while they waited to hear any sort of indicator about what might happen to them, Melody just hummed softly and did her work, sealing the fresh diaper around them and producing her sharpie to mark the diaper tapes. This time, she drew a long note, spreading from one tape to the other. The words didn’t matter, all that mattered was that she made marks that covered both tape and diaper so that any tampering would be obvious, but she drew it out anyway. Skip sat up on their elbows, reading the text upside-down. ‘This is what you get for trying to be clever.’ “What is what I get?” they asked, turning their gaze up to look Melody in the eyes. “I guess it’s more what you don’t get,” Melody replied, playing coy for a moment. “I think, as a little lesson, you don’t need your pants back for the rest of the night.” Skip’s eyebrows shot up and they tried to think of what to say. That was– “Safe word check,” Melody added quickly. “I’m pushing you a bit, is that okay?” They had to think for a moment. “I didn’t really break any rules here, did I?” “No, but it’s not just about the rules in a pure literal sense.” With a light scoff, Melody added, “I’m not Grace.” “It’s punishment for breaking the spirit of the rules, not the letter,” Skip continued. “Right?” “You can think of it that way,” Melody agreed. “Or you can think of it as a reminder that the dom is in charge, and ultimately, it’s up to me to decide.” “...assuming I give you that authority and consent to it,” Skip pointed out. Melody nodded. “Obviously.” “Okay. I’m good with that. I tried something, it didn’t work out, you’re retaliating.” Skip raised a hand and gave a thumbs up. “Green, then.” “Good–” “You’re not serious!” Skip protested, throwing up their hands and flushing brightly. “I can’t go outside with just a diaper on!” Melody was taken aback for a heartbeat, until the context of their conversation came into focus. Skip was bratting, and wanted Melody to know that they were bratting. “I’m not? I think you need a reminder of who’s in charge here.” Skip let that sink in. Melody was in charge, as per the rules of the game. In reality, the authority belonged to Skip. They were giving that power to Melody. Did that mean they were choosing this? (No, I’m just…accepting the penalty. Consequences so that the victory will be sweeter.) That logic didn’t hold up, and Skip knew it. They hadn’t done anything to get in trouble, they’d claimed to have done something to get in trouble. They had asked for consequences, and Melody had simply delivered. Melody, for her part, misunderstood their silence. “Grace has been out around the fire in way worse, our privacy fence does its job just fine.” “I know,” Skip assured her. “Are you worried about getting the others involved in the game?” Melody asked. “I said green,” Skip insisted, sitting up on their elbows. “I thought about all this, I’m good, I just…” (Lie. Come up with something. Tell her you were deciding how best to brat.) “I got stuck in kind of a recursion loop,” Skip confessed. “Thinking about who was really in charge, since you’re in charge here, because I am putting you in charge, but also the book is your baby, and…yeah.” Melody snickered again, with a smirk that said, ‘This laugh is part of kayfabe’. Skip tilted their head, and it was their turn to ask, “What?” Reaching down, Melody prodded the front of their new, puffy diaper. “I think you’re my baby.” “Not a baby,” Skip corrected. “A diaper does not a baby make.” “Noted.” Melody tapped on her chin. “Not a baby, yet. Break a few more rules, and we’ll see where you land.” Glancing over at their pants, Skip almost reached for them on impulse before remembering what had started this whole diversion in the conversation. A moment later, they remembered that the pants were wet and they’d need a fresh pair anyway. “Should we go back outside?” they asked. Melody took out her phone. “Yes, just let me make a note real quick.” Skip stood, trying to subtly glance at her screen so they could see what she wrote. “What note?” “This is kind of skipping ahead,” Melody said, “We’re not at this point in the book yet, but…how do you feel about roleplaying an interrogation?” (Fuck.) “For the book?” Skip clarified. A bad question, it didn’t even fit into the flow of the conversation. “For the book, plus I think it might be fun,” Melody clarified. “If we’re centering the book around a hypothetical dynamic, that’s the direction that our back-and-forth is headed, anyway.” “Sure. We can figure out the details later, though,” Skip said. “I’m ready to get back around the bonfire.” Melody finished writing her note and put her phone into her pocket. Leading the way, she walked to the door of her room while Skip stood and braced themself. (It’s just part of the game. It doesn’t matter that you’re not wearing pants, or that…they can see your diaper.) If anything, being pantsless in a diaper was preferable to their boxers. The thick padding smoothed everything out, removing the emphasis from their genitalia and focusing it on something else, something they’d chosen. (Or something that Melody had chosen? I still don’t know.) Either way, they could accept it. Waddling after Melody, they shook off the uncertainty and returned to the backyard. They had plenty of excuses ready to go, justifications, explanations. It was for the book, it was part of the game, it was Melody’s choice. Brains saw them first, seated so that he had a clear view of the back door. He leaned forward, peering over the fire, and Skip froze under his inspection. Grace and Pearce followed his gaze and looked over in unison, but it was Pearce that ultimately spoke up. “What’s that say?” Grace got on her knees and spun around so she could look more closely. “This…is…something…it’s too far away, I can’t make out the letters.” “‘This is what you get for trying to be clever,’” Melody announced, strutting to the fireside and taking her seat. “Ooh,” Pearce said. “Nice. What happened?” “Nothing,” Skip said, finally able to move again. Taking their place by the fire, they added, “Or at least–nothing you’re going to hear about.” They could have lied, but this was better. Silence maintained an air of mystery. Besides: at the end of the day, they were the Wasters. Around these four people, Skip could do whatever they wanted without fear of judgement…or, at least, they could get away with a lot more than they could anywhere else. Hell, Grace even seemed to be a little jealous, visibly struggling not to stare. Sinking into their seat, Skip blushed, but they also smiled. They hadn’t won the game, really, but they’d lost successfully. ... Support the author! Early access! You know the drill. https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

I'm sure nothing can possibly go wrong!

Chapter 35 Across the great hall, someone screamed. Daniel tried to stand on his tip-toes to see what was going on, but he wasn’t the only one to have that idea, and so instead of getting a good view, he just saw a dozen other heads that popped up in time to block his vantage point. From the stage, Doctor Cork turned and galloped forward, producing a frankly enormous wand, inset with a carving of twin vines, and in a few moments the commotion had died down. Whatever it was, the danger hadn’t spread, only the muttered rumors of what had happened. (Is that Jen’s distraction?) Daniel wondered, but he couldn’t spot her near the source of the scream. “It’s Becky,” someone whispered nearby, relaying rumors that’d rippled quickly across the room, answering his unspoken question. “Her tattoo.” Daniel barely knew who ‘Becky’ was, but he’d seen a girl with an enchanted tattoo of a serpent, one that moved on her body of its own accord. If magic was misbehaving, that could be freaky, though he didn’t know how it would be dangerous. Since there seemed to be no imminent peril, he returned his attention back to Cassie. “So we’re good?” “Yeah. You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Cassie asked, glancing around as she passed him a glowstick. “Too much explaining, and I want to be quick,” Daniel replied, cracking the stick so that it began to radiate dull green light. “Back in ten minutes, I’m just going straight to my room and then coming back. And you’re sure I won’t get in trouble?” “Mandy said you should really have a prefect escort, but once I pointed out that your prefect was Rachel, she just gave me the stick and said it was fine,” Cassie explained. “Just don’t dillydally.” “Do I seem like a dillydallier?” Daniel asked. “I’ll be right back.” Glowstick raised, he checked over his shoulder one last time. He couldn’t draw line of sight to Rachel, so he trusted that Jen’s distraction was working and he would have time to get away. Slipping through one of the many sets of double doors leading into the corridors outside, he looked left and right, ducked his head down, and hurried towards his favorite back hall. It was a weak starting place, but he didn’t know where else to look. There was nobody else who could, no one else who knew about the danger. His stomach lurched, sinking with a sudden pressure. Daniel blinked. It wasn’t fear, or any emotion at all. He had to use the bathroom. Furrowing his brow, he stopped in his tracks, taking a moment for introspection. Magic was fluctuating in power, and apparently, that included the curse Rachel had laid on him. For the moment, he could feel when he had to go. (Will this trigger the safeguard she built into it?) he wondered, anxiety racing down his spine. She’d warned against tampering with the curse, using outside help to dispel it, so would this cause that effect to kick in? He couldn’t do much about it at that moment, he had to keep going. Pressing forward down the hall, he made it another dozen paces before– (Fuck–ow, ow.) Pressure turned to cramping, a sudden debilitating ache in his gut like he’d spent the whole night eating junk food and… Well, he had spent the night eating junk food, but he hadn’t expected the consequences to be quite so dire. He staggered, leaning against the wall for a moment. The cramps weren’t going to go away, not unless… He blushed. (Screw it, it’s not like this is anything new.) Crouching against the wall, he found himself wishing he didn’t have his potty training back–at least when it was due to Rachel’s curse, he didn’t have to actually make a choice. Since magic was on the fritz, he had to make the deliberate decision to push, filling up the seat of his already-abused diaper. He really did need a change, that part of his excuse hadn’t been made up, and now that was more true than ever, as the full diaper squished inside his fashionable, leak-stained overalls. “Ugh,” he grunted. “I…” He paused, realizing he had an opportunity. The curse wasn’t actively affecting him. For as long as this fluctuation in power continued, he had a real shot at actually removing Rachel’s curse, ridding himself of the magic-induced incontinence she’d bestowed upon him. He’d need help, but it was a chance. An opportunity. Not only that, but he didn’t even have to go out of his way to get there. Whether he wanted to find information about the ongoing crisis or get help with his curse, his first step would be to go to Ismella. Surging with excitement, he picked up his pace and began to– … Something smacked Daniel on the face, hard enough to sting. His neck hurt, he was resting against something hard that jutted out awkwardly behind him. He blinked and looked around, but the room was dark save for an ominous glowstick held by an enemy. (Oh no.) Rachel leered above him, grinning like an idiot. “Wake up, spark,” she said. She had Cassie’s jacket folded over an arm, taken from around Daniel’s waist, and looked like she’d been given an early Christmas. “Let’s see how you’re going to talk your way out of this one.” He sat up a little more and looked from side to side. There were narrow walls on either side of him, his glowstick at his feet, and he saw a roll of toilet paper bolted into one of the walls, which quickly narrowed down the possibilities for where he was. “Am I…in a bathroom?” he asked. “What’s going on?” Rachel paused and tapped her wand to her chin. “That’s an excellent question. I have a little theory, walk me through it and see if I’m wrong: You noticed that, with the instability going on right now, the little curse on your potty training was more fragile than normal. You thought you might be able to undo it, so you made up an excuse about changing out of your leaky diapers, snuck out of the grand hall, came to a bathroom, tried to undo it, fucked up, and blasted yourself in the face with magic that knocked you out. Did I get it all right?” (I was running down the hall, and then…what happened?) “Uh…” he started, confused and off guard. “And…” Rachel lowered her wand and used it to prod the crotch of his overalls, squelching his diaper, then she wrinkled up her nose for dramatic effect. “It seems like you couldn’t even fix a very simple aura binding even with the fluctuation going on.” “None of that’s true,” Daniel said, sitting upright. There was a toilet behind him, he’d been lying against it when he woke up, and porcelain made for a terrible pillow–his neck and back ached. “I didn’t come here, I was going to my room, and then there was a flash, and I woke up here.” Tilting her head, Rachel thought about it for a moment. Daniel felt a microsecond of hope, but it vanished when she said, “God, you’re really that stupid, aren’t you? You couldn’t even think of a believable lie?” Another thought struck him. “Wait, why–how did you find me? What are you doing here?” “You’ve been missing for an hour, spark,” she explained. “The teachers arranged a little rescue party to go looking for you, and I guessed right away where I’d be able to find you.” He shook his head. He’d been brought here, it was the only explanation that made sense, but why? Dread built inside him, both from the implications of that, and the fact he was currently taking the full brunt of Rachel’s sadistic smile. “Are you going to tell me to drop out?” Daniel asked. “And turn me in if I don’t?” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Oh, no, we’re way beyond that. You’re going to be expelled for this, obviously.” Reaching out with the same hand that held her wand, Rachel grabbed one of the straps of his overalls and towed him up to his feet. “Come on, spark, let’s go tell everyone where I found you.” He struggled for a moment, but doubted he could resist, and quickly realized there would be no point. Even if he got away from Rachel, he had nowhere to go and nothing he could accomplish that would fix this. Pathetically, he looked down at the leak stains on his overalls and asked, “Can I have that jacket back?” “What do you think, spark?” Fingers entwined with the strap, Rachel pulled him forward, giving Daniel the distinct impression of being on a leash as she led him out of the bathroom stall. She didn’t return the jacket, so his leak stains were extremely visible when she tugged him into the corridor. Once out, she raised the hand holding her glowstick and shouted, “I found him!” with enough volume that it echoed back to her as she called it. They were right across the corridor from the great hall. He’d been dumped somewhere immediately adjacent to where he’d left, suggesting that he’d never even tried to go to his room. Giving him a yank just to make him stumble, Rachel pulled him towards the great hall. It was a struggle to keep up and stay upright, and in the stumbling waddle, he couldn’t do anything about the way his diaper squelched between his thighs; he had no opportunity to try and step gingerly and avoid making the situation worse. He struggled and shuffled his way into the great hall, still dimly lit and full of buzzing students. There were no teachers or faculty present save for Doctor Cork, monitoring the whole situation from the stage, so Rachel pulled Daniel in the direction of the centaur. “I found him,” Rachel announced, shoving Daniel towards the towering figure. “In a girl’s bathroom, trying to do magic.” “I wasn’t!” Daniel yelped. “I swear!” Doctor Cork studied him, looking down over her nose. “He’s not hurt?” “No. It looked like he’d passed out from magic use,” Rachel explained. “I wasn’t–” he began, but that would have been an argument, so he fell silent. “So what now?” “Your prefect is responsible for you until the crisis is over,” Cork explained. “I have several hundred witches to keep safe. Rachel, see to him.” Daniel squirmed, a chill running down his spine. He’d hoped to find at least a temporary rescue, not to be passed back off to the school’s most sadistic student. Nose wrinkling, Cork added, “And do something about your diaper.” Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but Rachel cut in before he could. “Fat chance–you had the opportunity to go get a fresh diaper, like you’d said you would. I think you’ve made your bed, you can stew in it.” The centaur seemed annoyed to still be having this conversation, but still came to his defense. “Ms. Haligtree, we may be in this place for some time.” “He’s my responsibility, right?” Rachel didn’t look back at the doctor, instead leering down at Daniel. “He snuck out, caused a panic, wasted time and resources looking for him that could have been used elsewhere. As the prefect in charge of him, I think it’s only fair that his punishment fits the crime–he had the opportunity to change and didn’t, why should we cater to him?” “It’s not for him,” Doctor Cork said. “He stinks, and we’re all sharing the same air. I also suspect he’ll be making puddles if he uses that diaper again, and additionally, I will not be adding diaper rash to the list of medical issues I have to handle today.” Someone in the mingled crowd of witches giggled, and Daniel realized that, while he’d been focused only on the two women in front of him, their voices were carrying well beyond their personal bubble. This was not a private conversation. Rachel scowled, ready to make a new argument, and he felt a moment of hope. Then, a wicked smile grew across her face and she pointed to the back corner of the room. “Alright. I’ll have to go retrieve his diapers. Until then, Daniel–go stand in that corner, keep your nose right against the wall.” Time-out. Not the most sadistic punishment she could have invented, but certainly a humiliating one. He balled his hands into fists, but took a breath. (Let it go. If you fight, that’s giving her what she wants.) He turned and marched to the corner of the room, where he leaned his forehead against the corner of the wall. In that moment, the cold marble felt like a balm, a bit of relief for his swimming thoughts. Tutting behind him, Rachel said, “Mmm…no, not good enough. Let’s see your fingers laced behind your head.” He shot a glare back at her. “Seriously?” Rachel smirked. “Doctor Cork said it pretty clearly, didn’t she? You’re mine until we’re out of this room. You do what I say. Come on, spark–hands up.” He complied, and though the posture didn’t make much difference to his boredom, it did send a new flush of humiliation through him. Somehow, even still fully clothed, the new stance made him feel more exposed. “Don’t you dare move a muscle,” Rachel warned, “Unless you want to give me an excuse to make this much worse. I’ll be back.” Despite her warning, Daniel stole a glance over his shoulder again, at the rest of the room. Since this had all happened at the front of the grand hall, he’d attracted a lot of eyes, a lot of gossip. Nearby witches had certainly heard the back and forth conversation, negotiating about the state of his diaper, and rumors would spread far faster than any smell. And, in this kind-of-sort-of time out, he couldn’t even do anything to defend his reputation. Worse, his attempts to fix things had been stopped. Someone had stopped him, and put him in a position to be expelled, wanting to get rid of him for good. That meant he was on the right track, but if he wanted to stick around long enough to keep hunting, he’d have to come up with a plan to stay in the school. Rachel reached out and took his head in her hand, turning him back to the corner. “Nose. Here. Take shallow breaths, spark, but don’t you dare leave.” He glowered. He didn’t want her to get in the last word, but all the same, he didn’t want to give her the dignity of a response either. “Ta ta for now–once I’ve changed your diaper, we can talk about the rest of your punishment, I’ve got so many ideas.” He groaned, but let her leave, and– (Wait. Did she say…’once I’ve changed your diaper’?) ... Happy new years! You know the drill. Subs get early access and exclusive stories! Just a few bucks a month! Help me buy diapers and also groceries. ❤️ Thank you! https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

I like to think of my specialty as 'Kinky horny smut that has entirely too much thought put into the worldbuilding', so that's exactly the reaction I'm hoping for!