Sissy Room

The Crimson Crown A story by SolaraScott Chapter 39: Acting Like a Child Mistress’s sharp eyes locked onto me, her expression expectant as she motioned with a deliberate flick of her hand. “Step forward,” she commanded, her voice cutting through the thick silence of the room. “Take her place.” My breath hitched, my chest tightening as the weight of her words settled on me like a crashing wave. I felt frozen, my legs heavy as though shackled to the ground, but Clara’s quiet, steady presence beside me reminded me that I had no choice. Slowly, I took a trembling step forward, my knees weak beneath me. Each movement felt sluggish as if I were wading through molasses, time stretching unnaturally with every step I took toward Mistress’s chair. The soft crinkle and squish of my diaper beneath my dress seemed impossibly loud, the sound mocking me as it punctuated my halting steps. My cheeks burned hotly, and I could barely keep my hands from trembling at my sides. Mistress’s gaze never wavered, her stern expression unchanging as I stopped just in front of her. The weight of her authority pressed down on me, suffocating and unrelenting. The enormity of what was about to happen gripped my chest, a mixture of shame and dread tightening around my heart like a vice. “Over,” Mistress instructed curtly, patting her lap with a single, deliberate motion. I hesitated, my body stiff and unwilling. My eyes flicked toward Clara for a brief, desperate moment, but she didn’t meet my gaze, her face unreadable. Her silence was grounding in its way—a reminder that she had endured this humiliation before, and so could I. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to move, each motion agonizingly slow as I stepped closer to Mistress’s lap. My heart pounded so loudly it was all I could hear, drowning out the scrape of my shoes against the stone floor. I bent forward awkwardly, the position unnatural and mortifying, and as I lowered myself over her lap, the soft bulk of my diaper squished against me, the sensation sending a fresh wave of heat to my face. Mistress adjusted me with firm hands, her grip impersonal but unyielding as she positioned me to her liking. The skirt of my dress was flipped up with a practiced motion, the fabric pooling around my waist and leaving me exposed. I clenched my eyes shut, the humiliation crashing over me in waves as I felt the faint chill of the room against the damp padding of my diaper. “Well,” Mistress said coldly, her voice laced with disdain as she rested one hand against my back. “What have we here?” Her fingers pressed lightly against the bulk of my diaper, the motion sending a jolt of shame through me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was lie there, the weight of her words, her touch, pressing down on me as I braced for what was to come. Mistress’s hand paused, resting firmly on the padded bulk beneath my dress. The room seemed to grow colder, the silence deafening as she pressed slightly, the unmistakable squish of the diaper breaking the stillness. My breath caught in my throat, and a fresh wave of humiliation swept over me, leaving me trembling and helpless across her lap. “What is this?” Mistress’s voice was sharp and cutting, her tone laced with disbelief and disdain. Her hand pressed again as if confirming what she had felt, and I flinched, my cheeks burning hotter than ever. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out; the words tangled in my throat. My heart pounded so loudly it was all I could hear, drowning out the growing tension in the room. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the shame so overwhelming that I couldn’t even look up. “Well?” Mistress demanded, her voice rising slightly though it remained cold and controlled. “Are you going to explain yourself, girl? Or shall I assume this is just another failure to present yourself properly?” “I—” My voice broke, trembling as I tried to find the words. “I—It’s not—” “Not what?” Mistress interrupted, her tone icy. “Not appropriate? Not acceptable? You’re right about that much.” She adjusted her grip on my back, her fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the diaper as if mocking me. “This... choice of undergarments is not one I’ve ever allowed. So tell me, why are you wearing it?” Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I bit my lip hard, trying to suppress the sobs building in my chest. I couldn’t answer, couldn’t even think past the suffocating shame that held me pinned across her lap. My mind raced, but no excuse came to me, no explanation that would make this any less humiliating. Mistress sighed heavily, the sound filled with contempt. “Pathetic,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. Her hand moved again, this time lifting the waistband of the diaper slightly as though inspecting it. “Wet, too,” she remarked, her tone sharp and mocking. “Of course it is.” My tears fell freely now, hot and uncontrollable, as the weight of her words crushed me further. I couldn’t look at Clara, couldn’t even lift my head from where it rested against Mistress’s skirt. The shame was all-consuming, a heavy, inescapable weight that left me trembling and silent. “You don’t even have the decency to come to me clean,” Mistress continued, her voice dripping with disdain. “Is this how you intend to serve? Soaked and incompetent? I’ve seen children with better discipline than this.” Her words stung like a slap, and I squeezed my eyes shut, my breaths coming in short, shaky gasps. “I’m sorry,” I finally whispered, my voice so small and broken that it barely registered. “Sorry?” Mistress repeated, her tone incredulous. “Oh, you will be.” She adjusted her grip on me again, her movements firm and deliberate as she pulled me tighter across her lap. “If you insist on behaving like a child,” she said coldly, “then you’ll be treated like one. Perhaps that will teach you to present yourself properly in my presence.” The weight of her hand settled against the back of the diaper, and I braced myself, my tears falling faster as the reality of what was about to happen set in. I was utterly powerless, pinned across her lap, my shame laid bare for both Mistress and Clara to see. And I knew, deep down, that there was no escape from what was to come. Mistress’s hand came down hard against the back of my diaper, the muffled thump filling the room with each sharp strike. Despite the padding, the impact reverberated through me, each swat carrying with it a sting of humiliation that burned hotter than the physical punishment. I couldn’t stop the sobs that tore from my chest, my face buried in my hands as tears streamed freely down my cheeks. “You will learn,” Mistress hissed, her voice cold and unrelenting. “You will understand the standards I demand, or you will break trying.” Another swat punctuated each word, her strikes relentless; I felt myself unraveling completely, the weight of the day, the shame of my predicament, and the sheer mortification of being punished like this crashing over me in waves. My cries echoed off the stone walls, raw and unrestrained, but Mistress showed no mercy. When she finally stopped, her hand rested heavily against the back of the soaked diaper, her grip firm as she adjusted her hold to keep me pinned in place. My chest heaved with sobs, my body trembling as I fought to catch my breath, but there was no reprieve. Her voice cut through the haze of my anguish, sharp and commanding. “As your roommate,” Mistress said, her gaze snapping to Clara, “you are complicit in this ridiculous farce. You must have known about her... condition.” She gestured dismissively at my diaper, her tone dripping with disdain. “Which means you have failed just as much as she has. You share in this failure, Clara, and you will share in the consequences.” Clara stiffened where she stood, her face pale but her expression unreadable. “Mistress, I—” she started, but Mistress silenced her with a sharp glare. “Silence,” Mistress snapped. “I will not entertain excuses. If you insist on tolerating such childish behavior, then you will join her in it.” My heart sank further as Mistress shifted her attention back to me, her cold, calculating gaze piercing through my tears. “From this moment on,” she continued, her tone icy, “you will both turn over any panties you have. If you insist on acting like children, you will be treated as such. Diapers will be your uniform beneath your dresses, and I will inspect them regularly. Perhaps humiliation will instill the discipline you both so clearly lack.” I felt Clara’s sharp intake of breath beside me, but she said nothing, her silence heavy with tension. Mistress’s grip tightened on my back, and she leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to an evil whisper. “Do you understand me, girls?” she demanded. “Yes, Mistress,” I choked out between sobs, my voice trembling and broken, Clara repeating my words. Mistress released me abruptly, her hands cold and efficient as she adjusted my dress before gesturing for me to stand. My legs wobbled as I pushed myself upright, the crinkle and squish of the soaked padding beneath me an unbearable reminder of my shame. I couldn’t look at Clara, couldn’t even lift my eyes from the floor. My tears still flowed freely, staining my cheeks as I struggled to regain my composure. “Enough,” Mistress snapped, her voice slicing through the tension. “I have seen all I need to see for now.” I cringed as she stood, her presence looming over us as she stepped toward her desk with slow, deliberate movements. “You are dismissed,” she said coldly, her words striking like a whip. “But let me make one thing clear.” She turned sharply, her piercing gaze locking onto both Clara and me, her lips curling into a faint sneer. “When I arrive at your room tonight—and I will arrive—I expect every single pair of panties you own to be turned over to me. Do not think to hide anything. If I so much as suspect you’ve defied me, the consequences will be... severe.” The weight of her words pressed down on me, the air in the room growing heavier with every syllable. I couldn’t stop the fresh wave of humiliation that burned my cheeks, my fists clenching at my sides as I nodded faintly. “And,” Mistress continued, her voice dropping to an icy calm, “I will personally inspect you both. Head to toe. You will be clean, immaculate, and properly dressed in your new... attire.” Her eyes flicked briefly to me, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “If you insist on acting like children, you will be treated as such. Do not disappoint me.” Clara’s jaw tightened, but she gave a curt nod, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Yes, Mistress.” I echoed her faintly, my voice trembling. “Yes, Mistress.” Mistress waved a dismissive hand toward the door. “Now, go. You’ve wasted enough of my time for one evening.” Clara nudged me gently, and I stumbled forward, my legs still wobbly as we made our way to the door. My chest felt tight, every step echoing with the weight of Mistress’s threats. As we stepped into the corridor and the door closed firmly behind us, the tension remained thick in the air. Clara glanced at me briefly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “We need to go back to the room,” she said quietly, her tone brisk. “We don’t have time to waste.” I nodded mutely, my mind racing as the enormity of what awaited us settled over me. The humiliation was unbearable, but the fear of Mistress’s wrath was worse. For now, all I could do was follow Clara, each step toward our room heavy with shame and dread. The walk back to our room was a blur of mortification and dread. My cheeks burned hot with shame, and I couldn’t bring myself to lift my gaze from the stone floor. The crinkle of my diaper was unbearably loud in my ears, a constant reminder of just how far I had fallen, how utterly exposed I was now. Clara walked ahead of me, her steps brisk and purposeful, but there was a stiffness to her movements I hadn’t seen before. She hadn’t said a word since we left Mistress’s office, and the silence between us was suffocating. I couldn’t bring myself to break it. My throat was too tight, my chest aching as I replayed everything that had happened over and over in my mind. Mistress’s words, her commands, the humiliating punishment—it all swirled together in a storm of emotions I couldn’t untangle. And Clara... she was mad. I could feel it in the way she moved, the way her shoulders were set, and the faint tension in her jaw whenever I dared to glance at her. But was she mad at me? I couldn’t tell. The thought twisted in my chest, making my already heavy steps feel even more burdensome. I wanted to ask, to explain, to apologize, but the words wouldn’t come. The shame was too much, the lump in my throat too thick. I bit my lip hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill again as we turned the final corner toward our dorm. When we reached the door, Clara opened it with more force than necessary, the heavy wood creaking loudly on its hinges as she stepped inside. I hesitated on the threshold, my hands trembling as I clutched at the fabric of my dress. “Get in,” Clara said sharply, her voice low but firm. I flinched at her tone, stepping inside quickly and shutting the door behind me. The room felt smaller than ever, the walls pressing in as the weight of the evening settled over us like a suffocating blanket. Clara moved to her side of the room, her back to me as she fiddled with something on her desk. Her movements were brisk, almost aggressive, and the tension in her shoulders was impossible to ignore. I stood frozen near the door, unsure of what to do or say. “Clara...” I started my voice barely above a whisper. But the sound of my voice made me falter, and I quickly looked away, my cheeks burning. “What?” she snapped, not turning around. Her tone wasn’t as sharp as Mistress’s, but it carried a weight that made my stomach twist. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. What could I even say? That I was sorry? That I didn’t mean for any of this to happen? That I didn’t know how to fix it? The silence stretched on, thick and unbearable, until Clara finally sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping just slightly. “Look,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less tense. “Just... just start getting ready. You heard what Mistress said.” I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak, and moved to my side of the room. The shame clung to me like a second skin as I opened my wardrobe, the sight of the diapers Mistress had ordered Clara to stock making my stomach churn. My hands trembled as I pulled out a fresh one, the soft crinkle of the material a cruel reminder of what lay ahead. Clara still hadn’t turned to face me, and I couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse. Her silence was heavy, but I couldn’t bring myself to break it. I could only hope that, somehow, I would find a way to make this right. For now, though, all I could do was obey Mistress’s commands and endure the humiliation of what was to come. I stood frozen, watching as Clara moved to her side of the room, her movements sharp and purposeful. She pulled open her drawer, the one I knew held her undergarments, and began clearing it out. One by one, she yanked out her panties, tossing them into a growing pile on her bed with a roughness that made my chest tighten. When the drawer was finally empty, she slammed it shut with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the small room. She turned toward me, her face a mask of restrained anger, her lips pressed into a thin line. My heart sank as her eyes flicked to the diaper in my trembling hands. Without a word, she stepped forward, plucking it from my grasp and motioning for me to lie down. “Come on,” she said, her voice clipped, her tone leaving no room for argument. I hesitated for only a moment before obeying, lowering myself onto the bed and lying back, the crinkle of the mattress cover beneath me amplifying the humiliation of the moment. My cheeks burned as Clara knelt beside me, the diaper in one hand and a container of powder in the other. Her movements were brisk, efficient, and impersonal as she worked, lifting my dress and carefully pulling away the soaked padding. I squeezed my eyes shut, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me as I tried to gather the courage to speak. The words felt heavy and impossible, but the silence between us was unbearable. “Clara,” I finally whispered, my voice trembling. “I’m... I’m sorry.” She didn’t respond immediately, her hands continuing their work as she cleaned me up and slid the fresh diaper beneath me. The rustle of the material and the faint scent of powder filled the air, and I braced myself for her reaction. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost resigned. “It’s all just a game,” she said, her tone quiet but firm. “That’s all this is. A game we didn’t choose to play, but we’ve got to follow her rules if we want to win.” Her words hit me like a blow, the weight of them settling over me as she finished securing the diaper and smoothed my dress back into place. I opened my eyes to find her looking at me, her expression softer now but still laced with frustration. “Do you understand, Lila?” she asked, her voice steady but edged with exhaustion. “It’s not about what’s fair or right. It’s about survival. We play by her rules until we’re in a position to make our own.” I nodded faintly, my throat tight as I tried to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill. “I understand,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Clara sighed, sitting back and brushing her hands against her skirt. “Good,” she said simply, standing and motioning for me to do the same. “Because if we’re going to get through this, we need to stick together. No more surprises, Lila. Promise me.” I sat up slowly, the fresh diaper crinkling beneath me as I met her gaze. “I promise,” I said softly, the words carrying a weight I hadn’t expected. Clara nodded once, her expression softening further as she moved back to her bed. The tension in the room lingered, but for the first time, there was a faint sense of understanding between us. It wasn’t much, but it was enough—for now. Clara glanced to the open drawer behind me, a mixture of shame and resentment filling her face, “I may need a little help.” she admitted, blushing, “I’ve never… not for myself.” It was my turn to be strong, to be the boulder she could use to lean. I nodded, turning and retrieving a fresh diaper, “Of course, I’m sorry, Clara, genuinely, I got us into this mess.” “Just… Make it quick, Your Grace,” she said, her cheeks burning brightly in shame as she unwillingly laid down, staring up at the ceiling. I felt shame of my own wash across me as I knelt beside her. The one girl I had come to rely on since the Queen had been captured, the one girl who seemed to understand me, who seemed to care, I had singlehandedly reduced her to this. I felt horrible, and I hoped I could repay her someday as tears glistened in her eyes, gently tumbling down her rosy cheeks. End of Chapter 39 Yes... yes it is... Poor Liliana ❤️ Hehe, I gotta entice you to keep reading!  

Crossing Worlds 2 A story by SolaraScott Chapter 12 - A New Mommy The last rays of the evening sun cast long, golden streaks across the apartment as Ash forced herself to her feet. Her legs felt heavy and unsteady beneath her as she wiped her tear-streaked face with the sleeve of her shirt. Her chest still ached, but the sobs had subsided, leaving behind a hollow, aching weariness. She needed to do something, anything, to distract herself. She wandered into the kitchen, slow and deliberate, as she opened the cabinets. The sight that greeted her was unsurprising but disheartening: rows of instant noodles, a few cans of soup, and little else. Her attempt to pre-stock the apartment had been half-hearted at best, and she had focused entirely on the daycare below. With a sigh, Ash grabbed a packet of ramen, filled a small pot with water, and set it to boil. The faint hiss of the burner was oddly comforting in the quiet apartment, grounding her as she mechanically prepared the meal. When the noodles were ready, she poured them into a bowl and settled at the small dining table, the steam curling softly in the dim light. She picked up her fork, twirling it absently in the noodles, but her mind was already drifting. The simplicity of the meal, the solitude of the moment, reminded her of another time, a time she’d worked so hard to forget. Back then, when she’d been reduced to the status of a Little, she hadn’t had to worry about these things. There were no grocery lists to write, no bills to pay, and no decisions about what to eat. Every need had been provided for; every responsibility was stripped away. She’d hated it—the loss of her autonomy, the infantilizing control. But now, sitting alone with her ramen, a flicker of envy crept into her thoughts. The simplicity of it all had been a twisted comfort. Someone else had handled the burdens of life, leaving her with nothing to do but exist. The lack of autonomy had been suffocating and humiliating, but it had also been freeing. Ash shook her head, her lips tightening as she twirled another forkful of noodles. No. She couldn’t let herself think like that. She had fought too hard to reclaim her independence, to build a life where she called the shots. That freedom came with challenges—loneliness and exhaustion—but it was hers. And she would never give it up again. She glanced toward the closed bedroom door, where Kaylee was undoubtedly sleeping soundly, swaddled and pacified. For all her teasing earlier, Ash couldn’t shake the small, bitter pang of jealousy. Kaylee, stripped of her Amazon stature and power, now had none of the responsibilities that weighed on Ash every day. The very lack of autonomy that Kaylee surely loathed was something Ash had, on some level, missed. But it wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t let herself believe it was worth it. Never again, she thought firmly, her resolve hardening. She would never return to that life, no matter how tempting the simplicity might seem in moments like this. Ash finished her ramen in silence, the warm broth settling uneasily in her stomach. The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the apartment into shadows, and she stared into the empty bowl for a long moment before standing. The night was still young, and she had things to do, responsibilities to shoulder, and a life to live—on her terms. The quiet click of the lock echoed in the hallway as Ash double-checked the door to her apartment. Satisfied, she turned and made her way down to the daycare, the soft hum of the elevator filling the stillness around her. When the doors slid open, she stepped into the unfinished space; her footsteps light against the bare flooring. The daycare was a work in progress, and the faint scent of fresh paint lingered in the air. Boxes were stacked neatly against the walls, their contents waiting to be unpacked. The furniture remained draped in protective plastic, and the room blended potential and incompletion. Ash exhaled, rolling up her sleeves as she got to work. Hours slipped by in a blur of movement as Ash meticulously unpacked supplies, adjusted furniture, and organized shelves. The repetitive tasks grounded her, each completed step a small victory against the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. But even as her hands worked, her thoughts remained restless, circling back to Kaylee, the betrayal, and the complicated emotions that refused to settle. When she finally locked the daycare for the night, fatigue tugged at her body. Her arms ached, her legs heavy as she trudged back to the elevator. The apartment was quiet when she returned, the air still and slightly cooler than before. She opened the bedroom door a crack, peeking inside. Kaylee was exactly as she’d left her, swaddled snugly in the crib. The pacifier bobbed faintly in her mouth, her chest rising and falling steadily. Ash lingered for a moment, her expression softening despite herself. As much as she wanted to hold onto her anger, the sight of Kaylee so vulnerable stirred something else—a flicker of pity, of responsibility. She closed the door quietly, her footsteps barely audible as she retreated to the bathroom. The shower roared to life, the rush of warm water cascading over her as she stepped inside. Ash pressed her arm against the tiled wall, her head bowed as the steam curled around her. The heat soaked into her muscles, easing some of the tension in her body, but it did nothing to quiet her mind. Her thoughts raced, a chaotic mix of emotions that refused to be silenced. Anger, regret, sadness—they all vied for attention, pulling her in different directions. She replayed the day's events in her mind, dissecting every moment, word, and feeling. Why had Kaylee done it? Why had she risked everything they’d built? Was it desperation? Ignorance? Or had Ash misjudged her entirely? The questions swirled relentlessly, feeding her frustration as the water streamed down her back. She clenched her jaw, curling her fingers into a fist against the wall. "I should hate her," she thought, the words sharp and bitter. She should hate Kaylee for what she did to her in proving her right about Amazons. But even as she thought it, Ash couldn’t deny the pang of sadness that came with the realization. She didn’t want to hate Kaylee. She had tried to trust her, to believe that Kaylee was different, that she wasn’t like the rest. And now, that hope lay shattered, leaving only the sharp fragments of disappointment. The water began to cool, pulling Ash back to the present. She pushed herself upright, wiping a hand across her face as she turned off the shower. Her reflection in the mirror was blurry with steam, her damp hair clinging to her skin. She looked tired—more tired than she felt physically. She wrapped a towel around herself and padded softly back into the bedroom. The room was quiet, and the dim light cast long shadows on the walls as Ash pulled on a pair of loose pajamas. Her damp hair clung to her neck, but she did not mind as her gaze shifted to the crib. Stepping closer, Ash looked down at Kaylee, swaddled snugly and sound asleep. Her lips moved faintly around the pacifier, the soft suckling sound almost imperceptible in the room's stillness. Ash felt a pang of pain twist in her chest as she watched. It wasn’t Kaylee she saw lying there—it was herself. Vulnerable, humiliated, stripped of her autonomy. The memory was sharp, raw, and impossible to ignore. Her hand moved almost unconsciously, brushing the edge of the blanket aside to press against Kaylee’s diaper. The padding was warm and swollen beneath her fingers, the telltale sign of its fullness. Ash’s throat tightened, her mind flickering back to her experiences—discomfort, helplessness, and indignity. She hated the betrayal, hated Amazons for everything they had done to her. But as she stood there, staring at the sleeping figure before her, another realization took hold: She wasn’t one of them; she was better than them. With a quiet sigh, Ash lowered the crib rail, carefully lifting Kaylee into her arms. The girl stirred slightly, a soft whimper escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake. Her pacifier bobbed faintly as Ash carried her to the bed, laying her gently on the changing mat she had spread across it earlier. The process was automatic. Her hands moved with practiced care as she peeled back the tabs of Kaylee’s diaper. The smell of the powdered formula lingered faintly, but Ash worked quickly, cleaning and changing the girl with a tenderness that surprised even herself. She reached for a fresh diaper, fastening it snugly around Kaylee’s waist before tucking her back into the blanket. Kaylee remained oblivious, her soft breathing steady and calm. Ash lingered momentarily, her hand resting lightly on the girl’s chest as she watched the gentle rise and fall. Ash trusted her once, her lips pressing into a thin line. And Kaylee had trusted her; now look at where they were. Ash climbed into bed, pulling the swaddled Kaylee close to her chest and pushing the thought aside. The girl fits perfectly against her, warm and soft in a way that makes Ash’s heart ache with conflicting emotions. As much as she wanted to hold onto her anger and resentment, she couldn’t ignore the quiet vulnerability of the figure in her arms. Ash closed her eyes, her grip tightening slightly as exhaustion finally began to pull her under. Whatever tomorrow brought, she would face it. But for now, in the stillness of the night, she clung to the one truth she could hold onto: She was not one of them and never would be. * Kaylee stirred slowly, her mind swimming between sleep and wakefulness. Something felt different. She wasn’t in the crib—she could tell that much. Her body was still snugly swaddled, the secure pressure of the blanket a stark reminder of her reduced state. The thick diaper between her legs was unmistakable, its bulk forcing her thighs apart even as she shifted slightly. But she wasn’t alone. Her cheek rested against something warm, rising and falling gently with steady breathing. The warmth cradled her, comforting in a way that made her chest tighten with emotion. As her senses sharpened, she realized with disbelief that she was being held. By Ash. Her heart clenched painfully as the realization settled in, the previous day's memories crashing over her like a tidal wave. Kaylee’s betrayal, Ash’s anger, and the humiliation she had endured came flooding back, sharp and raw. And yet, here she was, held close in Ash’s arms. The girl she had hurt so deeply was still looking after her, still caring for her, despite everything. Tears welled in Kaylee’s eyes, spilling silently down her cheeks as she pressed her face into Ash’s shoulder. She hated herself in that moment—hated what she had done, hated the pain she had caused. Her body trembled slightly, her breathing shaky as the guilt consumed her. Her bladder ached, the pressure a reminder of her predicament. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it to go away, but the effort was futile. Why bother? she thought bitterly, her tears flowing freely now. Ash wouldn’t let her use the bathroom anyway. With a soft, resigned sigh, she let go, the warmth spreading through her diaper as her bladder emptied. The padding swelled around her, absorbing everything, and she could feel the faint crinkle as it adjusted to accommodate the wetness. Then she realized another change: her diaper had been clean when she woke. Ash must have changed her sometime during the night. The thought made Kaylee cry harder; her sobs muffled against Ash’s shoulder. Even after everything she had done… Ash still took care of her. At first, Kayle didn’t notice Ash stirring; her emotions consumed her. But when she felt the girl shift slightly, her breathing changing, Kaylee stiffened, her sobs quieting into soft whimpers. Ash’s eyes fluttered open, her expression groggy but quickly sharpening as she registered the tearful figure in her arms. “Kaylee?” Ash’s voice was soft, hesitant. “Are you… crying?” Kaylee nodded, unable to stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Ash, I’m so sorry for what I did. I—I don’t know what I was thinking. I never wanted to hurt you; I just… I thought I was helping.” Ash’s face tightened, her eyes searching Kaylee’s tear-streaked face. The hurt lingered in her gaze, but so was something else—something softer, more conflicted. Kaylee’s words tumbled out in a rush, her voice trembling as she tried to explain. “I was wrong, Ash. I see that now. I should have never—” She broke off, her breath hitching as she sobbed. “I should have trusted you to heal on your own. I didn’t mean to betray you. I didn’t want to. Please… believe me.” For a long moment, Ash didn’t respond. Her expression was unreadable, and her arms held Kaylee securely as she processed the heartfelt apology. Kaylee could feel her heart pounding, tears soaking into Ash’s shirt as she waited. The silence stretched between them like a chasm. Ash studied Kaylee for what felt like an eternity, her sharp gaze boring into the tearful Amazon’s eyes. Kaylee’s chest tightened under the weight of that scrutiny, her trembling lips trying to form more words to plead her case. But she held back, willing herself to project just how earnest she truly was. The ache in her heart was unbearable—she needed Ash to understand. Ash’s expression shifted, a flicker of something softer crossing her face before it hardened again. She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping as she looked away, her fingers idly brushing against the blanket wrapped around Kaylee. “I don’t know,” Ash said, her voice low and strained. “I don’t know if I can believe you.” Kaylee felt like she’d been struck. Her breath caught, her tears flowing anew as the words sank in. “Ash, I—” Ash held up a hand, cutting her off. “Don’t.” Her tone wasn’t cruel, but it was firm, tinged with the exhaustion of someone who had been hurt one too many times. “I can’t tell if this is some elaborate trick, Kaylee. If you’re just biding your time, trying to find a way to get back to being an Amazon—back to being the person who betrayed me.” Kaylee opened her mouth to protest, her hands tugging at the swaddle in frustration, but Ash shook her head. “No. Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice softened slightly, her gaze flickering back to meet Kaylee’s. “The best thing we can do right now is… keep going. You’ve broken my trust completely, Kaylee. And if you’re being honest and mean what you’re saying, you’ll have to earn it back. It’s not going to happen overnight.” The admission hit Kaylee like a second blow, the finality of it settling deep in her chest. She had known it wouldn’t be easy to regain Ash’s trust, but hearing the words spoken aloud was a bitter pill to swallow. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I swear, Ash. I’ll make it right.” Ash sighed again, running a hand through her hair. “We’ll see,” she said simply, her tone unreadable. She hesitated momentarily, her eyes flicking down to Kaylee’s swaddle, then back to her face. “Look, I’m not heartless. As much as I’d love to make you pay for everything Amazons have done to me… I can’t. I don’t have it in me.” Kaylee’s breath hitched, a faint flicker of relief breaking through her despair. But before she could say anything more, Ash stood, pulling the blanket from her swaddled form. Kaylee shivered slightly as the cooler air of the room brushed against her skin. Ash scooped her up without another word, carried her to the bed, and gently laid her on the changing mat. The familiar sound of undoing tapes filled the room as Ash worked methodically, her expression distant but her hands careful and deliberate. Kaylee whimpered softly, a fresh wave of shame washing over her as she realized how wet her diaper had become. Ash said nothing, and her movements were efficient as she cleaned and changed Kaylee. The fresh diaper was snugly fastened, and its bulk was a reminder of her reduced status. Ash straightened, tossing the used diaper into the trash before returning to Kaylee. For a moment, she hesitated; her expression conflicted once more. “I’m not doing this for you,” she said quietly, her voice soft but firm. “I’m doing this because I’m not like them. And I won’t let them make me into something I’m not.” Ash carried her to the kitchen without another word, settling Kaylee in her lap as she prepared a bottle of formula. The soft hum of the apartment was broken only by the sound of the bottle being shaken, and Kaylee’s heart sank further as Ash turned her attention back to her. “I’ve been thinking,” Ash began, her voice calm but firm as she placed the bottle against Kaylee’s lips. “For now, you’re going to be my Little.” Kaylee’s eyes widened, and she whimpered softly around the rubber nipple as the warm formula filled her mouth. She wanted to protest, but Ash’s sharp gaze silenced her before she could muster the courage. “I’m not an Amazon,” Ash continued, her tone matter-of-fact, “but keeping you as a Little means you pose no risk to me. And let’s be honest—you’ve proven I can’t trust you right now.” She paused, brushing a stray lock of hair from Kaylee’s face. “So, for now, this is your life. My baby. Everything that comes with that.” Kaylee’s cheeks burned as she suckled on the bottle, her stomach knotting with shame and helplessness. The warm and sweet formula coated her tongue as it trickled down her throat, but the sheer indignity of the situation overshadowed the taste. Ash’s expression softened slightly as she lifted the bottle, ensuring Kaylee drank steadily. “You wanted to play Mommy, right?” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Well, now you get to be the other side of that equation.” The bottle emptied far too quickly for Kaylee’s liking, and Ash pulled it away, patting her back gently but firmly until a soft burp escaped her lips. Kaylee’s cheeks flamed brighter as Ash wiped her face with a damp cloth, her touch almost tender despite the circumstances. “Good girl,” Ash said, her voice carrying a faint teasing edge. She set the cloth aside, adjusting Kaylee slightly in her lap. “You might not like it, but if you’re serious about earning my trust back, this is how it starts.” Kaylee swallowed hard, the weight of Ash’s words settling heavily on her. She hated this—hated every moment of it—but she couldn’t deny the truth in what Ash was saying. If she wanted any chance of rebuilding their relationship, of proving herself, she would have to surrender to this role. For now, at least. Drawing a shaky breath, Kaylee glanced up at Ash. “If… if you’re my Mommy,” she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, “you’ll have to keep up with the Little Care Act. Otherwise, I could be taken away.” Ash raised an eyebrow, her gaze narrowing slightly. “The Little Care Act?” she echoed, her tone laced with skepticism. “You think I don’t know how to care for you?” Kaylee flinched slightly but pressed on, her cheeks flushing with renewed embarrassment. “It’s not just about care,” she said quietly. “There are rules. Guidelines. Things… that need to be done, or someone could report you. Ever since the Resistance, the government has been tightening its control on Littles.” Ash raised an eyebrow, her gaze fixed on Kaylee with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “You’re actually suggesting this?” she asked, her tone almost incredulous. Kaylee squirmed slightly in Ash’s lap, her fingers twisting the edge of the blanket still draped loosely over her. “If this is how I earn back your trust, then I’ll do it. If… if we’re going to do this,” she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, “play Mommy and Baby girl… then the first thing we need to do is go shopping.” Ash tilted her head, crossing her arms as she studied Kaylee more intently. “Shopping?” she repeated, clearly intrigued. Kaylee’s cheeks flamed brighter, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “Your apartment… it’s not exactly equipped for a baby,” she muttered, the words tumbling out quickly as if saying them faster would lessen the humiliation. “We need supplies. Furniture. Clothes…” She trailed off, her face burning as she struggled to say the next part. After hesitating, her voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. “Mommy.” The word hung in the air like a thunderclap, its weight making Kaylee’s heart pound in her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Ash’s eyes, her fingers tightening around the blanket as she braced herself for whatever reaction might come. Ash blinked, her lips twitching upward in a faint smirk as she leaned closer, her voice laced with amusement. “What was that last part?” Kaylee swallowed hard, her face impossibly red as she repeated, “Mommy,” her tone slightly louder but no less strained. Ash chuckled softly, the sound both infuriating and disarming. “Well,” she said, leaning back with an air of mock authority, “if my baby girl insists, I suppose we’d better make sure everything’s just right for you.” Kaylee groaned softly, her humiliation complete as Ash stood, lifting her effortlessly and settling her back in the crook of her arm. “Let’s get you dressed first,” Ash said, her tone light and teasing. “Can’t take my baby out shopping in just a diaper, now can we?” As Ash carried her toward the bedroom, Kaylee buried her face in her hands, mortified at what she had just agreed to. But deep down, she knew it was the only way forward. If she were going to make things right, if she had any hope of regaining Ash’s trust, she would have to endure this—no matter how humiliating it might be. End of Chapter 12

Trying to read this gives me a headache, it makes no sense such broken grammar 

Wonka 

+1 and there is a good deal on a 3-Pack. https://amzn.to/3Wm6dcw