Art

Spargano, I look forward to seeing a picture of your new design, it sounds interesting. But I can't get my head around how the o-rings are attached and where they sit, and how they interact with the holes in the silicon tube.

Chapter 13: In Which They Make Dinner   Andrea walked into the living room a few minutes later to find Ellie showing Sisu her phone, explaining the internet to the genie. She smiled, then handed Ellie a plate of warm leftover pizza while Ellie explained. Ellie took the plate and kept talking while Sisu nodded along, intrigued. Andrea sat on the couch and let the two talk. She idly pulled out her own phone and checked her socials, munching on her own pizza, before she remembered something the girl at the sex shop had said. She flicked over to her search bar and started typing. A few minutes later Ellie sat down beside her and took a bite of her pizza. Sisu had Ellie’s phone and was hovering around the room, scrolling through various apps. Ellie hoped she hadn't accidentally gotten the genie addicted to the thing, but hoped the novelty would wear off soon. Ellie snuggled up to Andrea, who hardly budged. Ellie looked up at her girlfriend and found her intently reading something on her phone, some article by the looks of it. “Washa loogin at?” she said around a mouthful of pizza. Andrea looked over as if just noticing she was there. “I remembered something the girl at the shop said and was doing some research,” she explained. “She mentioned a diaper community and I thought I'd look into it. Apparently there's a whole kink dedicated to it called…” she paused and scrolled up, scanning the lines of text. “ABDL? Adult baby slash diaper lover. It's a whole thing.” Ellie reached over and took the phone, skim reading while Andrea talked. The article was about this kink subsect, all about adults who wore diapers for fun. Ellie had heard mention of it online but hadn't looked into it herself. Her own hand drifted to her diaper as she read. Who would wear these for fun? she thought to herself. “It’s apparently pretty involved these days,” Andrea continued. “They have whole in-person stores dedicated to it and lots of online stores for buying cute diapers for adults, not just plain ones but some with more babyish prints. Clothes too, onesies and things. They even have meetups.” She looked at Ellie with a smile and gave her a nudge. “Maybe we oughta do some shopping, eh? Maybe meet some of these people?” Ellie blushed and passed the phone back to Andrea. “I don't know about that,” she muttered. “I may need them but that doesn't mean I'm going to do the whole adult baby thing.” She took another bite of her pizza, feeling embarrassed. Andrea was quiet for a moment before she said, “I think you should.” Ellie nearly choked on her pizza, swallowing it down with a cough. “What? Why?” “Well…think about it. If you're going to be in diapers why not try to enjoy it? You'll have to get used to them, and why not find some cute ones that you like, or meet some other folks who are into it? You should try to enjoy them if you have to be in them.” Ellie turned crimson as Andrea talked, looking away and making herself small. “It…it's not that easy,” she protested. “I can't just make myself like them. And I don't want to go full baby with it.” Andrea put her arm around the girl. “Well maybe I can help you,” she said reassuringly. “You're in this for the long haul and I'm going to be there with you, I can help make it a little nicer for you. We don't have to go “full baby” but maybe just some cute diapers would be nice. Yeah?” Ellie nodded shyly. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I guess you're right.” Andrea pulled her close and gave her a kiss on the head. “That's my baby girl,” she said. Ellie didn't respond, but Andrea thought she saw a bit of a smile on her face. The afternoon went by as the two settled into the couch to watch some TV. Sisu played with the phone for a while before settling in the air beside the couch to join the two girls. They all sat and watched for a while, going through a few shows that the girls had been watching, snacking on leftovers, and chatting. The girls tried to explain some plots to Sisu who remained perplexed by the shows. “I do not understand,” Sisu said after an episode ended. “Why does the angel man have such an infatuation with the older brother?” “It's part of their ongoing story,” Ellie explained. “The angel saved him from Hell and now they have to stop the apocalypse. It would make more sense if you'd seen the rest of the show, but you jumped into the middle of it.” “I see,” Sisu said. “Perhaps I will have to view it at some other time.” “We’ll watch it with you,” Ellie said. She gave Andrea a nudge. “Won't we?” Andrea looked over at the genie and paused for a second before nodding. “Yeah, sure,” she said. Ellie could hear the reluctance in her voice, but was happy that Andrea was at least making an effort to get along with Sisu. Ellie gave a yawn and stood up to stretch. “I don't know about you but I'm about ready for dinner,” she said, moving to the kitchen. Andrea got up and followed her. “Dinner sounds great,” she said. “Oh, and you said you were going to call your dad?” “Mmm, yeah,” said Ellie. “Gotta ask him about moving. Will you start dinner?” “Yeah, I'm thinking pasta. I can make some cream sauce, chicken, broccoli?” “Sounds great to me. Oh, one thing though.” Ellie turned to the living room where Sisu was poking at Ellie’s phone again. “Hey, Sisu.” The genie looked up at her. “Yes, Mistress?” “I want you to help Andrea in the kitchen. You should learn how to cook in the 21st century.” Sisu looked past Ellie to Andrea. “Must I? Mistress Andrea does not seem enthused by the idea.” Ellie looked back to see Andrea scowling while she was getting ingredients together. Ellie sighed and said to both of them, “Look, I know you two don't get along, but try to for me, please. Okay?” Andrea gave her own sign then motioned Sisu over. “Fine, come here,” she said. “You can cut up the chicken, I hate handling raw meat.” Sisu looked at Ellie who gave her a nod. With a roll of her eyes and obvious reluctance she hovered over the counter into the kitchen. Ellie snatched her phone back from the genie as she went by then stepped away to the living room to make her call. Behind her she could hear Andrea beginning to instruct the genie. Ellie pulled up her dad's number and hesitated, her finger over the dial button. This was the moment. She knew that her dad would know her as Ellie, but she was still scared that he wouldn't. What if Sisu’s magic hadn't worked? What if he was missed somehow? What if- Ellie pressed the dial button, swallowing her fear. If it didn't work she'd have words for Sisu, but for now all she could do was trust. The phone rang for a while, Ellie wasn't sure that he would answer at all until the dial sound cut off and she heard a masculine voice on the other end. “Hello?” her dad said. Ellie swallowed and spoke back. “Hi…dad, it's-it’s me.” “Oh hey there…” he paused. “Ellie! Gosh, I forgot your name for a sec there. Weird. What's up, kid?” Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey, I was hoping to ask for a favor later this month. Andrea’s apartment is jacking up the rent and she wants to move in with me, I was hoping you'd help out if you can.” “Yeah, I can probably do that. When would that be?” “We don't have a concrete date yet, but some time before the end of the month. I just wanted to let you know beforehand.” “Yeah, let me know when you have a more solid idea and we'll make plans.” “Sounds good, thanks dad.” “You bet, kid. Everything alright with you otherwise?” “Yeah, Andrea and I are making dinner, I just wanted to call and talk for a sec but I should get back.” “Sounds good. Love you, kid.” “Love you too, dad.” Ellie hung up the call and turned back to the kitchen. Andrea and Sisu were busy working now, dinner already well underway. Ellie watched them with satisfaction as the two coordinated with Andrea taking the lead. She slipped in next to Andrea and said, “Hey, anything I can help with?” Andrea gestured to some vegetables set aside. “Can you prep that for me?.” Ellie nodded and grabbed a knife and cutting board and started slicing the veggies into small chunks while Ellie and Sisu worked on the meat. Ellie was bemused to watch Sisu hovering in midair, bent over while trying her best to slice the chicken on the counter while Andrea coached her.  The three of them worked together on dinner, Sisu watching intently as they cooked the chicken, made the sauce, and boiled the pasta. Soon the meal was ready and the three of them sat, or in Sisu's case hovered, in the living room, eating the meal they had made together. “I must say,” Sisu said around a mouthful of pasta, “this is an excellent meal. I have not had one this good in centuries. My last few masters were not very good cooks.” “It's a pretty basic recipe and the roux for the sauce can be used to start a lot of things,” Ellie said. “I'll show you a couple more uses, it's very versatile.” Sisu nodded and Ellie couldn't help but notice a smile on her face. The three ate while the TV played, enjoying their company. As she was finishing her bowl Ellie felt a slight pressure in her stomach. She had to go to the bathroom. For a brief moment she thought about the diaper she was wearing. She could just…no, she shook her head and pushed the thought away. She may need her diapers but there was no way she'd do that. She hurriedly finished her meal before standing up and setting her bowl on the coffee table. “I'm gonna run to the bathroom,” She announced to the other two. “Hang on a sec,” Andrea said. “Green?” Ellie blinked before remembering what Andrea meant. “Uh…sure,” she said  Andrea reached over and slipped her hand down Ellie’s sweats, giving her diaper a squeeze. Ellie blushed, she'd never get used to this, she thought. Andrea gave it a couple of squeezes before nodding.  “Yeah, you need a change,” Andrea declared as she pulled her hand back. “From the feel of it I think it's pretty dire. Go do your business and meet me in the bedroom and I'll change you.” “Yeah, sure,” murmured Ellie. She noticed Sisu watching the two of them, a slight smile on her lips. Ellie frowned, still blushing, and left to go to the bathroom. The sounds of Andrea gathering dishes came from behind her as she wandered the bathroom. Quickly she pulled her sweats down and untaped her soaking wet and heavy diaper. Andrea was right, the garment was heavy and thoroughly soaked. She pulled it away, folded it up, then sat on the toilet to do her business. As she finished she instinctively went to pull her pants back up, but realized that there was no point if she had to take them off in a second anyway. Carrying the sweats in her arms she exited the bathroom to find Sisu hovering just outside. “Mistress,” The genie said. Ellie gave a yelp and covered her exposed bottom with the sweatpants. “Sisu!” she shouted. “You scared me!” “Apologies, Mistress,” the genie apologized. “I would like to request that I may stay out of my bottle tonight. I wish to view more on your television device.” “Yeah, that's fine,” Ellie said, regaining her composure but not moving the sweatpants. “Just don't bother the two of us unless it's an emergency, ok?” Sisu gave a slight bow. “As you wish, Mistress. I thank you for allowing me this privilege.” “Sisu, it's no big deal. You don't need permission to watch TV, or really do much of anything. You're not a slave.” Sisu cocked her head, confused, then held up her arms, flashing the gold bracers around her wrists. “Mistress, I beg your pardon but I quite literally am. As long as I am bound to the bottle I am also bound to whoever holds it. As my Mistress you dictate what I can and cannot do.” Ellie looked at the genie sadly. “Well then as long as you're bound to me you are free to do what you want in the home. Just don't break anything, make a mess, or change anything here. Okay?” Sisu gave a smile and nodded her head. “Thank you, Mistress. Not all of my masters or mistresses have been so kind. I deeply appreciate it.” Ellie sighed. “It's alright. Uh, I have to get back to Andrea now. I'll see you in the morning?” Sisu gave a deep bow. “I shall see you then, Mistress.” She hovered off to the living room. Ellie watched her go, a feeling of sadness deep in her. She couldn't imagine what the genie must have gone through all these centuries. She sighed and walked down the hall to her room. She found Andrea in her t-shirt and underwear busily making the bed, pulling the sheets and blankets tight and smoothing them out.  She was apparently finishing up as Ellie walked in. She looked at the bed, satisfied, then turned to the girl. “There,” Andrea said, “now we have a nice clean space to change you.” Ellie sat down on the edge of the bed but Andrea pulled her back up. “Nuh uh,” she said. “Your skin is still wet probably, you need to be wiped down first before you lay down. Grab me the wipes.” Ellie gave an exasperated sigh as she pulled open the drawer and grabbed the wipes for her. “You’ve changed me out of wet diapers on the bed before, why not now?” “You had the diaper between you and the bed before,” Andrea said. “You'll get your sheets dirty.” Ellie scanned the room and pointed to her towel from that morning. “What about that? Can't you put that down between me and the bed instead?” Andrea gave a thoughtful look as she picked up the towel, then laid it down on the bed. “Yeah, I guess that works,” she conceded. “Alright then. Butt on the bed, you need a diaper on now. Don't want any wet sheets.” Ellie climbed up and laid down on the towel, setting the wipes aside. Andrea grabbed the remaining items from the drawer, then moved to the closet where the pink bunny diapers were. Ellie let out a small groan. “Why those ones?” she protested. “Why can't I have the regular ones?” “Because I'm changing you and that means I pick, remember? Tomorrow when I'm gone you can wear whatever diaper you want, but for now you get the cute bunnies.” She pulled out one of the diapers and unfolded it, then folded it again lengthwise and pulled gently along it. “These are cute and a cute girl needs cute diapers.” Ellie watched her as she folded then unfolded the diaper. “What are you doing to it?” “I saw this when I was browsing some diaper stuff,” she explained, moving to her spot at the foot of the bed. “It's supposed to open it up and decompress the absorbent stuffing inside, make it less likely to leak. You ready now?” Ellie nodded. Andrea took out the wipes and began to work. As she did Ellie’s thoughts drifted to the day's events. So much had happened in the last couple days and it all still felt sort of surreal. Andrea was taking all this in stride, although her wish’s price probably helped with that. Ellie smiled a bit. Andrea was more forward, but she kind of liked it. It was nice not being the one in charge all the time. Andrea taped up the diaper then gave Ellie's crotch a pat. “There you go, kiddo, all nice and snug.” Ellie blushed at that. “I'm not a kid. I just wear diapers. I'm almost as old as you, anyway.” Andrea smiled and gave her diaper another pat. “I know, but I thought it might be something cute to call you. My little kiddo, my baby girl.” Ellie sat up, her diaper giving a crinkle as she did. “I don't know about that,” she said with a frown. “It feels like a little much.” “If it bothers you I won't do it. Sorry hun.” Ellie shook her head. “I don't think it's bad, it's just…different. I guess it's fine. Just…not all the time, okay?” Andrea gave a smile and nodded. “Can do, hun.” She pulled back the covers on her side of the bed and climbed in. Ellie did the same, snuggling up alongside the bigger girl. Andrea put her arm around her and they sat there in silence for a bit. “Thank you,” Ellie sighed. “What for?” “Everything. Thank you for being okay with all of this. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for not leaving.” Andrea leaned over and gave her a kiss on her head. “It's nothing. You'd do the same for me, I'm sure.” Ellie nodded absently. “Still,” she said, “thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you.” Andrea pulled her close and gave her another kiss. “It's what I'm here for,” she said. Ellie leaned in, her head resting against Andrea's chest. She put her arm around the bigger woman, her hand slipping up Andrea's shirt to rest on her stomach. She always felt better with skin contact. Andrea played with her hair and hummed as they lay there, wrapped in each other. Ellie felt herself drifting but as she did she felt a warmth and a trickle from within her diaper. Sleepily she told herself it was okay, she'd take care of it in the morning. The two of them watched TV in bed until, with thoughts of Andrea in her head, she slowly drifted to sleep.

I have poor sleep.   I have severe apnea.  I have a CPAP (actually, I believe it's a BiPAP) machine.   It helps, but it doesn't really resolve the underlying problem.  As far as what I sleep in -- diaper and whatever shirt I was wearing that day.  Sometimes I do change out to a onesie when I diaper up in the evening, so it's that instead of the shirt.  Like some others, I get way too hot.  I sleep with a fan blowing on me.  It's not helping that I got 3 or 4 giant plushies on the bed at any time now either.   I will wake up repeatedly anywhere from as little as 30 minutes to maybe 2 hours.  All night long, every night.  

He hasn't said anything for the last couple of minutes. Hard to guess what he's thinking.   So… do you think chapter 49 should be the end of Act II, or the start of Act III? I'm still a little unsure. And sorry for the delay with this part; I've recently discovered that one of the downsides of living with my parents again is when they randomly decide to switch to an ISP that has "child safe" content filtering as standard.   50. Deep Cover The first sensation that filtered through the fog of returning consciousness was a feeling of wrongness. Isadora didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but the instincts that had been drummed into her in basic training told her to keep her eyes closed, and not to move until she understood what she knew. Thinking about it was harder than she might have expected. Her head was swimming, half asleep. For a few seconds she found it hard to remember her life, and to separate those facts from the miasma of bad dreams that seemed just barely beyond recollection. But she knew how to deal with that; and dwelling on memories from the night before wasn’t it. To distinguish between imaginations, dreams, and memories, the best method was to think about something she knew was real. She couldn’t hear anything right now, and she couldn’t see anything, but that still left at least three senses. And once she had grounded herself by deducing everything she could about her current location, she would be thinking clearly enough to recall how she had gotten there. The first thing she was aware of was that she was lying on her side. Her legs were slightly bent. Under her was what felt like rough cotton; over a surface somewhat softer than the ground. So she was probably in a bed, but not her own bed at the Kleins’ house. She would have expected to have more detail than that, but apparently her sense of touch didn’t give her that much detail without shifting her body weight to see how much the probable-mattress beneath her yielded; and she wasn’t willing to do that until she felt ready to deal with anybody who was waiting for her to wake. She could, however, confirm that she wasn’t in any pain. She wasn’t comfortable, but that seemed more a property of the confusion than anything physical. The air smelled wrong. She kept her breathing steady like she had been trained, to put off the moment when she had to face the world, but she could still make out a complex mix of subtle odours. Something chemical, slightly astringent but barely noticeable, Maybe it was the faintest trace of detergent left on freshly laundered sheets, or some antiseptic cleaner used somewhere else in the room. But beneath that, there was a trace of sweetness, something vaguely floral without resembling real flowers in any way. Somehow it made her think of baby powder, though it had been years since she had any contact with the stuff. She didn’t expect to get much from the fifth sense, taste, but somehow that was what brought all the memories of the night before rushing back. There was a bitterness there, tinged with the sharp sweetness of artificial cherry flavour. A cocktail she wasn’t really familiar with, and which had masked the taste of… something. Her drink had been spiked, she remembered. The crime boss – Arrencani – had figured out that the Kleins weren’t what they seemed, and she needed to find out what had happened. Whether she was in some kind of safehouse, if Brock had managed to get her out of there. And if she was in the clutches of the enemy, she needed to find out whether he was in there with her, held somewhere else, or if he had managed to get away. “Br…” she gasped as the thought came to her, but she caught the treacherous impulses before she could say his real name. He was Bernard Klein, she thought, and she needed not to mention any other name until she knew exactly how much the bandits were actually aware of. Still, she had made a sound, and if anyone was here they would know she was awake. So she stopped forcing herself to sleep and sat up, blinking blearily as she gasped: “Bernard? Where are you?” As the sound came out she noticed how dry her mouth was, and she felt just a little nauseous. As if she needed any further confirmation that she had been drugged. The surface under her moved, and she thought she could feel the pressure of a grid of springs, confirming that this was a mattress. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could make out bars around her, and a room she wasn’t familiar with. The whole room seemed to sway from side to side with every movement, and she realised that she was still under the influence of the drugs. That would explain why it had taken so much effort even to understand where she was. She reached out and grabbed the wooden bars to steady herself. They seemed solid, which was no surprise. Beyond them, she could see waves of pastel colours across the walls, and giant renditions of popular cartoon characters. The fog in her head clearly hadn’t faded as much as she might have hoped, because it took her several seconds to realise that she was in some kind of nursery. She corrected her mental image, replacing the cage around her with a crib, but somehow that didn’t make her feel any more secure. She guessed that this was the mysterious Pink Room, although pink was no more prominent than any other colour in the decor. Next she looked down at herself. She hadn’t noticed when she first woke, but now she was aware that she was no longer constrained by that absurd dress. The shoes were gone, the dress was gone, and even her stockings were gone. Maybe someone had been checking her for a wire; and she dreaded to think what conclusions they might draw after looking through her purse. Thankfully for the sake of modesty, her underwear today was more substantial than usual; a snug undershirt and shorts necessary to squeeze her body into the elaborate dress. There was a small sticky patch on her chest as well, not quite covered by her top. After a quick check, she found a couple more. That suggested she had been connected to some kind of heart monitor while she was unconscious; or something she couldn’t even imagine. But before she could think any more about that, her head turned automatically at the sound of the door opening. Two figures entered the room, in blue uniforms that immediately put Isadora in mind of a hospital; though she realised that the same aesthetic could have been appropriate for medical staff at a daycare. She had to fight a little to make her eyes focus, and then the stern, matronly figure leading the way resolved into the familiar shape of Claudine. She looked very different now, less nervous than she often seemed while serving in the Arrencani house. Behind her was an unfamiliar man, but Isadora thought she could have seen him before. One of the innumerable groundsmen at the Yaxley Club, perhaps? He might have been a hair shorter than Claudine now that she drew herself up to her full height, but he more than made up for it in breadth, and it was clear that he either had an intense, physical job, or spent all his spare time in the gym; probably both. Both figures looked down at Isadora as they came closer, and she found herself mentally going over everything she could remember about Estelle Klein. Now, more than ever, she would have to play the role to perfection in order to convince them they were wrong about anything they might think they had discovered. “Oh, you’re awake!” Claudine said, with a kind of false jolliness that instantly put Isadora on edge. “My name’s Claudine, and I’m going to be looking after you for a little while. So if there’s anything you need, just give me a call.” Her accent wasn’t any different; she was the same person Isadora had been trying to get to know, hoping that she might learn something. But her bearing was different now, her tone was different, and her attitude gave the impression of a completely different person. “What’s happening?” Isadora asked. She tried to be just as confident in return, but her words tripped over her heavy tongue like a rake in the grass, and she knew that her nervousness must be showing through. “Claudine? What is this place?” They were probably the same words Estelle would have said, but that was due more to luck than judgement. “Don’t worry, Stella,” Claudine answered with another forced smile. “We just need to teach you some things. About showing respect, and not worrying about things that don’t concern you. You’ll enjoy yourself more once you’re not asking all kinds of troublesome questions. And I promise, if you work with us, you’ll find yourself having fun before you know it.” Isadora’s mouth opened automatically, ready to respond. Her hands moved as well, trying to hide herself from the eyes of the young man, but that was an entirely natural behaviour. It was the words she was about to say that quickly needed correction as one detail from her legend jumped to the forefront of her mind. Estelle Klein hated being called Stella. It was a detail she had insisted on, and she was sure that Arrencani would know that detail. And she couldn’t afford to slip up on that now. “That’s not my name!” she protested, more acid in her voice than even she had expected. “I don’t like–” “Shush, Stella,” Claudine cut her off, while the man firmly gripped Isadora’s shoulders. “Trust me, you’ll have a whole lot more fun if you stop thinking about what you want. I’m sure there’s a lot of things you’ll be amazed by how good they feel.” Isadora still felt groggy; her head was heavy and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, but she remembered clearly how much Estelle hated her name being shortened to Stella. And she knew she had to be mad at that if she was to have any chance of maintaining her cover. “My name’s Estelle!” she barked more forcefully, pulling herself up against the bars. She put all her fear into the words, as if being called the wrong name was a metaphor for all her fear and uncertainty. As if getting one word right would make it easier to cope with her capture by a potentially hostile organisation. “Please, just…” She couldn’t hold back the sobs, so she didn’t try. She was angry, and she was scared, but all of those feelings would have been just perfect for Estelle in these circumstances. So Isadora decided that she might as well use those instincts to make her performance work. Like Brock kept saying, it was easier to pretend if the feelings were the same. “Oh, sweetie, don’t cry. Stella is such a cute name, and it suits you so well.” As she spoke, Claudine reached up for a catch somewhere Isadora couldn’t see, and with a click the wooden bars of the crib started to slide down. Claudine was reaching over them now, while her muscular assistant was clearly taking the weight of the bars. That meant that Isadora was only facing one person in a position to stop her, and that was probably the best chance she would get. It didn’t help that she had felt herself starting to lose her balance when the bars first moved; but Claudine was clearly prepared to help her with that. What she wasn’t expecting was for Isadora to grab her wrist, pushing her hands aside, and try to dive out of the crib. It was a clumsy move, but it allowed her to use her weight as an advantage, and turned the bars into a handicap for her captors. She might not have been top of her class when it came to unarmed combat training, but Isadora knew she could do this. But before she hit the ground, she saw the bars jerk the last few inches with a thud, and strong hands grabbed her shoulders. “Let go!” she yelled at the top of her voice. She might know that the Pink Room was effectively soundproofed, but Estelle surely wouldn’t; and yelling was cathartic in any case. “What are you doing? Where’s Bernard? Get your hands off me!” She flailed around, swinging her arms in every direction in the hope of making contact. She still found it hard to believe that Claudine was involved in something like this, and wished she had the time to work out what was going on. But right now her movements were driven by sheer panic. A lucky backhand swipe caught the man across the face, and Isadora tried to turn and follow it up with a proper punch; but she stumbled again and almost fell as something caught her wrist and held her in place. Her hand was caught on the bars of the crib, it seemed. Looking closer, she saw that it was her bracelet, apparently caught on a small metal latch. That must be how it stayed closed. For a second, she wondered why they hadn’t taken it off her, like her rings and shoes. But then she remembered Brock fastening the bracelet for her. It and the necklace both looked like a continuous ring of jointed plastic pieces, without a visible clasp. In the box had been a magnetic key to clip them together; which possibly meant that her captors hadn’t known how to remove it. That could have been an advantage, but now it had snagged on the corner of the latch, and she wasn’t sure how to free it again. “Don’t worry about anyone else, Stella,” Claudine continued, while Isadora struggled to get free of her companion’s grip. The man was behind her now, with his hands around her waist. He was lifting her off the ground with little apparent effort, which made it easier to kick out with her feet while she was down one arm, but also meant that he wasn’t presenting much of a target. “Just focus on enjoying yourself. I promise, this will be a lot easier if you stop fighting us.” “Let go!” Isadora shrieked, somehow managing to make her voice even louder. She tried to move, and a sharp tug was rewarded with the sound of splintering plastic, and sent rounded pieces of plastic flying in all directions. It turned out that the bracelet wasn’t as strong as she might have hoped; but at least it meant that both of her hands were free now. She kept on pushing, flailing around in the hope of making an impact. “You can’t do this, Bernard will–” Isadora thrashed around with her arms, but there wasn’t much she could do. The man was holding her up, while Claudine moved around behind her. She didn’t think that she was impaired by any feelings of sympathy towards the woman; it was clear by now that she was an active member of the crime family. But there was just no way she could bring her hands into contact with the enemy. And her protests were cut off suddenly by a slight stabbing pain. A second later, she recognised the feeling of an injection; her anxiety grew stronger, but she could only try to guess about what was going to happen now; or what these people had in mind. “What are you…” she gasped, but she didn’t expect to get any answers. “Just a little muscle relaxant,” Claudine said. “So you won’t need to keep on struggling. If you’d been a good girl, we wouldn’t have to do that. Maybe in future you can behave, and then you won’t have to worry about the side effects.” Isadora kept on fighting, desperate to get out of this situation. But these people clearly knew what they were doing, and she could already imagine that she was starting to get weaker. Whether that was the drug taking effect or just what she expected, she couldn't be sure yet. But her movements felt less coordinated than they had a moment before, and every futile effort to strike at her captors carried as much fatigue as a marathon. Her arms felt like sacks of jelly, so heavy and unwieldy. “No chance,” she growled, hoping against all hope that a little confidence might be enough to make them back off. “Where. Is. Bernard?” “Oh, don’t worry about that, sweetie,” Claudine continued. “Let’s try getting you in some more suitable clothes, okay?” Isadora gritted her teeth, but didn’t say anything else. She couldn’t believe how hard movement was getting now, but she wasn’t willing to give up. She just glared at the woman she used to have so much sympathy for. Claudine ran over to a closet, almost hidden in the corner of the room. And as she turned around with clothes in her hands, it only emphasised for Isadora that she was in her underwear right now, and there was a man holding her. Anything had to be better than that. There weren’t too many choices. Claudine held up a couple of hangers in each hand, her body language making it clear that she expected Isadora to pick one outfit or the other. And as much as she didn’t want to spend any more time half-naked, Isadora couldn’t find a good thought about either of them. The one in Claudine’s left hand looked like it was designed for a toddler, but she had no doubt that it would be the right size to fit her. It was a bright yellow romper, with a pattern of cartoon ducks across the front, marching in step like the world’s most adorable soldiers. It had outsized red and yellow buttons, and it was easy to imagine wearing something like that would make her look like a real baby. The other option was arguably even worse. Frilly and pink, with multiple layers of lace and a dozen bows that couldn’t possibly serve any practical purpose; this dress looked even less practical than the formal one Isadora had so recently been cursing, and she thought that wearing it would likely make her look like an overengineered wedding cake by a designer whose love for pink overwhelmed all aesthetic sensibilities. It had a Peter Pan collar and puffy sleeves, and what could have been rhinestones decorating the bodice or perhaps just sequins; but most of the other details were lost in a mass of gauzy fabric. They were both styled as if she were a child. Did that mean they already knew about her little side, and understood better than Brock had thought? Were they hoping to confront her with an extreme version of her own desires and so demoralise her? Or was that just what they had in the closet for residents here, if what Brock had deduced about Nina’s stay had been correct? Did Arrencani routinely use humiliation as a method of interrogation, or was this scene improvised? Isadora didn’t know, but she told herself in no uncertain terms that she was not willing to even consider wearing either of these cute outfits. If she had to feel shame, it would just be from some unknown henchman seeing her in her underwear; which the Agency’s basic counter-interrogation course had at least prepared her for. “No way,” she said; a show of defiance desperately trying to conceal the train of thought which had immediately started trying to pick which of the embarrassing outfits would have the least impact on her composure. “I’m not wearing those, I’m not a baby. Just wait until Bernard gets here, he’ll be so mad.” She didn’t know if that was the right thing to say, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. The guy holding her carried her towards another corner of the room like this was a scene he’d played out a dozen times before, without showing any sign of listening to what she was saying. She redoubled her efforts to escape, thrashing out more as he fastened a padded strap around one of her wrists and she realised that she was going to be restrained. She needed to stop them, she needed to fight back, but swinging her arms was no more effective than swatting at the guy with a pool noodle, especially when they were too heavy to wield effectively. He managed to get one of her wrists strapped down to the table, which seemed to have some kind of firm upholstery under a plastic cover. She could still kick, though, keeping him from locking down her feet for now. But Claudine came closer to grab at her ankles, while the henchman held against the table with one hand on her collarbone and the other pressing firmly on her abdomen. Reminding her of something that hadn’t even crossed her mind up to now. Her thoughts were still fuzzy enough that it took her a second to recognise the warmth spreading across her thighs. But as soon as she looked down, a wave of humiliation crashed over her. Between all the time she had presumably been unconscious, the weakness from the muscle relaxants, and the sudden force applied to her bladder, she shouldn’t have been surprised. But in that first moment she was mortified, too shocked even to cry out. She was wetting herself now, showing her just how helpless she was as a small pool started to form on the padded surface under her butt. It only took a second for her to get over the initial shock. She clamped down hard, putting all her effort into stopping the stream. But her underwear was already soaked, and there was no way her captors wouldn’t have noticed. Her mind was whirling, trying to guess how they might use this to manipulate her, but there were too many unknowns, too much uncertainty about what was going on here, and she couldn’t focus at all in the face of that embarrassment. “Ohh, sweetie!” Claudine cooed, showing every sign of real enjoyment now. “I guess that little Stella wants to be a baby for us after all.”

“Let me go let me go you bitch!” Kayla cried as she now realized her friend was going to babysit her!  “No no you can’t do this!” She yelled  Kayla fought but it was no good as Kim quickly strapped her down..  “I hate you!” She yelled sounding just like a toddler throwing a tantrum.. She laid there as she couldn’t have done anything with her mittened hands!