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InkuHime

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  1. A Too Late Magical Girl

    I have some idea of where it can go but the high level details still have not gelled. But I am glad people enjoyed what I had written to this point, which may have been a better way to put it
  2. A Too Late Magical Girl

    Glad people enjoyed this.
  3. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    It's gratifying to know that this story has inspired you to work on this piece of art so much ausdpr. Thank you for sharing it.
  4. Just a Picture

    Yes, that is what I was thinking when I drew the picture.
  5. A Too Late Magical Girl

    No, the story is just a variation of the well trodden magical girl trope, magic powers, themed weapons, talking animals. It's not even taking things as far as Peulla Magica or Raising Project did with the genre. As for Emily Black, I needed an IT person and realized that I had named the Law Firm Cotton and Black and putting Emily's name in it was just something I thought would be funny. No connection to the Chasing Emily story. And since the board merged my posts.... Kristine woke not to the beeping of her alarm but to another orgasm from another terribly erotic dream. She lie on her bed, breathing deeply, squirming, slim chest raising and falling with each gasping breath. She finally got control of herself, wiping at her damp forehead. “What the hell,” she said softly. Her alarm started beeping. As she sat up she felt something heavy and wet slide about in the back of the diaper that she was wearing. Eyes wide she reached behind her and put her hand on the back of the plastic. The mass within the diaper shifted and spread out as she pushed against the padding. “Oh no,” she said. She shifted forward, taking the weight off her bottom. The mess slithered forward as she got up on her hands and knees. How was she going to clean up that mess? She’d have to get into her shower, take the heavily soiled diaper off. And then what? Could she flush it? And she would have to clean herself up, the mess that she felt stuck to her bottom. Just the thought of doing so made her feel ill. She should just be able to magic this away. Then a thought occurred to her. “Mr. Bear, help.” She blushed even as she said it out loud, not entirely certain about what she was doing. A moment later the giant teddy bear was at her side. She did not have to give any instructions, the bear grabbed her up from the couch, cleared some space, and put her on the floor. She blushed as the bear pulled her legs up and untaped her diaper, then began to clean her up. The bear was fast, efficient, in extremely short order she was clean, the area around her was clean, the dirty diaper and the wipes having disappeared, even Mr. Bear was clean. Of course the bear then proceeded to put a new diaper on her, acting so fast she could hardly resist. He creamed her bottom, rubbing it across her butt and between her thighs, sending a shock of unexpected pleasure through her that made her gasp. Then he rained sweet smelling powder across her before pulling a thick diaper up between her legs and tapping it snug around her. He lifted her up from the floor. grabbing her under her arms, then placed her on her feet and patted her head. She blushed at the gentle touch, then lisped out her ‘thank you’ sending him away. Standing there, in the middle of her apartment, in just a diaper and her t-shirt, she sighed. “What the hell,” she said, then sat down on her couch. “Tac?” she called out softly. The cat did not appear. Well, she supposed that was for the best. She was not really sure how to ask the cat why she was having crazy erotic wet dreams, waking up in diapers that were damp for reasons other than piss. Was it part of the magic, or, as she was afraid of, was she just some kind of pervert? It was probably the magic. She hoped. Thinking of magic and the cat she summoned up her magic bag. She opened the small zippered pocket she had found the money in the night before. Within where two envelopes, neither feeling as it if were stuffed with money. In one was a letter, informing her that all her student loans would be paid off by the end of the business day. The other letter showed that all her credit cards as well as her line of credit had all been paid off. She was completely out of debt. “Well, that’s something,” she said, tossing the letters on her coffee table and then dismissing the diaper bag. Standing she tore the expertly taped diaper from around her waist and tossed it, heading into her bathroom. Tac showed up when she left her apartment. She was dressed in the same outfit she had worn the day before, the slacks and the blouse. “Where you going?” the cat asked. “To court. Oscar wants my help,” she said, feeling good for saying that. “Your help?” Tac asked incredulously. “Yes, my help,” she said, sounding far more defensive than she had intended. “Some kind of monster thing?” “No, legal matters,” she said, tilting her chin up as she walked towards the elevator. “This I got to see.” Kristine paused, wondering if she should tell the cat it could not come. Of course she did not expect that Tac would do something just because she had told it, and she supposed having an obvious magical animal might help things along in some manner or another. “Do as you want,” she said, and resumed her walk. Seeing as she was debt free and flush with cash (she had the money for clothing in her messenger bag) she decided to take a taxi. “How much more do you need to do to finish with me?” she asked Tac as she did up her seatbelt. “A few more nights and you’ll have all the basics down. You’re not as stupid as what I was expecting.” “Is that one of those magical animals?” the taxi driver asked, looking back at her in the rearview mirror. “Is that a problem?” Kristine asked. “I can toss her out of the cab, no problem if we are moving fast.” “Rude,” Tac said. “No, no, just never saw one before.” He pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic. “So,” the driver asked, “you one of those magical girls?” “Yeah, I’m one of those magical girls.” “You look a little young for it.” She laughed loudly. “I say something funny?” “Hilarious, but don’t worry about it.” “We’re not going to get attacked by monsters, are we?” “I don’t think so.” She looked at Tac. “A monster attack against a mundane is a pretty unlikely thing,” the cat sat smugly. “Is it now?” Kristine turned her gaze on Tac. “I don’t think my statement can in anyway be used to infer any wrongdoing on my part.” “And if I got one of those truth spells Oscar mentioned?” “Well you don’t have one.” “You don’t seem to be all that friendly,” the driver said. “Tell me about it,” Kristine answered. “Aren’t you magical girls and your talking pets supposed to be all friendly like?” “Pets?” Tac sounded offended. “I am beginning to suspect that is just PR.” “Pets?” “So how did you become a magical girl, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Desperate measures,” Kristine said. “Either that or I die.” “So you didn’t want to be one.” “Of course not. Why would I?” “I bet it beats driving a cab.” Kristine was about to argue that, seeing as she was pretty sure driving a cab did not require diapers, but she decided not to argue it. And she thought about the letters from the morning, the money in her bag. Probably a lot of people would think the benefits outweighed the costs. “It still was not what I thought I wanted to be doing with my life?” “Oh, what did you want to do with your life?” “I was going to be a lawyer.” The driver was silent for a few seconds. “You ask me the world needs more magical girls than lawyers.” “Did I ask you?” she snapped at him. “Don’t be so catty,” Tac told her. “I don’t want to hear that from you,” she told the cat. “Listen, I’m just saying that society is too litigious as it stands and less lawyers might not be a bad thing. Maybe people would talk things out and not tie up the courts with nuisance law suits and real legal change could happen.” “What, are you a professor of sociology or something?” “Philosophy.” “A philosopher cab driver, this is getting good,” Tac said. “You’re a professor of philosophy?” “Masters degree. Working on my doctorate.” Kristine frowned. “Are you driving for money or is this your thesis?” “Welcome to my lab magical girl.” “Oh crap.” “Do you have a card? Cause I think I want to ride in your cab more often.” “So, do you think you can do more to make the world just is you were a lawyer than you could be being a magical girl.” “I did not get into law because of justice,” Kristine said, exasperated, and then, “No, wait, I mean, justice is important, but the law is complex and beautiful.” “Really?” “Well, it’s complex.” “So, if you were interested in justice, would you find it easier to make a difference as a lawyer or a magical girl.” Kristine squirmed on her seat, thought the padding of her training panties felt both warm and wet, but was not sure. And she could not check. “I suppose if I was only interested in justice that a magical girl has more options.” “But magical girls are not agents of justice,” Tac said as she jumped up onto the back of the front, passenger seat. “At least not necessarily.” “But do they have the freedom to become so?” “Probably,” Tac said. “So magical girl, do you feel that if you cannot practice law that you are required to uphold justice? Does your power require you to act.” “Hell no,” Kristine said. “Power does not equate to responsibility.” “Interesting.” “Listen, can you just drive.” “Sure,” he said, and then asked Tac, “so you offer power to these girls?” “That is right.” Tac sounded pleased with herself. “And you don’t feel that there is a problem with that? It’s like you are creating child soldiers.” “No like about it. But young girls have the purity and innocence to wield magic. Their pure hearts and pure dreams protect them from the corrupting taint of magic.” “Bullshit!” Kristine said from the back. “I was twenty five and you still picked me.” “Twenty five?” the driver asked, looking at her in the mirror again. Kristine wished she had kept her mouth shut. “You were immature for your age,” Tac said in way of explanation. She smacked the cat from the back of the seat hard enough that it hit the interior windshield. “Hey, watch it,” the driver said. “The cat’s fine.” “My feelings can be hurt you know,” Tac said, jumping down from the dashboard. “Good to know. I’ll try to be more emotionally cruel.” The driver looked at her in the mirror, then down at Tac. He asked no more questions. Kristine felt a little bad about that but did not want to start up the conversation again. When she was dropped off at the courthouse she tipped the driver well, by way of apology, then walked up the steps towards the large entranceway. She was near the doors when she was met by Oscar’s assistant. Yvonne Clark was an older woman, brown hair striped with grey, dressed conservatively. She had some garment bags hung over her shoulder. “Kristine?” she asked hesitantly. “Yes. Mr. Cotton wanted me here.” Of course Yvonne had to know that. What a stupid and obvious thing to say. “Yes. Come on. I have some clothing for you.” He held up the garment bags a little higher. At least Kristine was not the only one stating the obvious. Yvonne led her to a bathroom where she could change. Kristine went in on her own, carrying the three bags. She left them on a small bench inside the room by the door and went right for a stall. Her training panty was not too wet, but she cleaned herself up and put on a new on, not wanting to take a chance as staining any of the clothing she was going to borrow. There were three dresses within the bags, as well as a few packaged sundries. She wondered if they belonged to Oscar’s daughters, or grand daughters. Perhaps young nieces? She did not really know much about his family other than he did have children. One of the dresses looked like a little girl’s Sunday dress. A little too much frou frou and pink for her tastes. Another was a surprisingly mature looking dress in a pale blue, clingy. She was certain the bulk of her training panties would be visible. She went with the third, a dark blue dress, with a pleated skirt that dropped below her knees and short, wide sleeves that dropped just above her elbows. The skirt was loose enough that there was no chance of her training panties showing through and it looked conservative. There was a pair of white tights, still in the package, along with the dress. She tore the package open and put them on. The cotton tights were a little too small, and the dress a bit tight across her slim chest, but, looking at herself, she saw that none of that showed. Good enough. She gathered up everything and left the bathroom. Yvonne and Tac were waiting near by. Yvonne looked Kristine up and down and nodded. “Good. Come on.” Tac jumped up onto her shoulder. Yvonne led Kristine up the main stairs, where the too small tights and slightly too tight dress made themselves a little more obvious. She felt a little corseted as she could not breathe as deeply as she wished, and the tights were sliding down a little and she had to resist the urge to try to pull them up. Down a hall, deeper into the building, to a small waiting room where Oscar, and to her surprise and no small amount of embarrassment, Daniel were waiting. Daniel was staring at her, shock obvious on his face. She noted two others, a woman and man, well dressed. The man she recognized as Wendal Pine, the lead lawyer for the other side. “Miss St. James, thank you for coming,” Oscar said to her. “You’re welcome Mr. Black.” Daniel schooled his expression to something more professional and nodded a hello to her. “Kristine,” he said. She returned the informal greeting with a, “Daniel. You’re assisting with the case? Good job.” He looked a little uncomfortable, for they both knew that she was supposed to be here. “Thank you,” he said, almost sounding himself. Wendal and his companion were openly staring at her. She ignored them, deciding she would let someone else handle introductions if they were required. “Is there anything else Mr. Cotton?” Yvonne asked. “Not at the moment Yvonne, thank you.” Yvonne nodded and then left them. There were several seconds of a rather uncomfortable silence in the room before Oscar said, “Let’s go.” He walked to one of the doors, knocked and then pushed it open. Kristine started towards the doors, but the others, with their longer strides (not hampered by trying to keep cotton tights from sliding down over a pair of training panties) put everyone else in the room, and she had to wait to enter last. There was a small office beyond. The five of them filled it. A woman behind a desk was talking to Oscar. “Go in,” she said, “Judge Morrison is waiting for you.” They all filed through the secretaries office into the much larger office of the judge. Bernard Morrison was a tall man, big, shaved head, deep wrinkles around his eye and mouth. He was standing, waiting for them. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing at a table in front of his desk. Everyone sat. Kristine found the chair too big for her, wished she could kneel on it so she was not so low. Bernard went and sat at his desk. “Let’s make this fast.” He looked at Kristine. “Kristine St. James.” “Yes sir,” she said, hating how her voice seemed to squeak. “Papers?” She reached into her bag, pulled out her ID. She was about to get off the chair when Tac jumped to the floor and became the tuxedo clad, cat eared beauty that was her other form. There were a few expressions of surprise. With a smile Tac took the various documents from Kristine and walked to the judge’s desk, handing them to him. He looked through them, turning the bridging ID back and forth, staring at Kristine. She felt her cheeks grow warm under his scrutiny. He gave the documents back to Tac. “Thank you.” “Of course,” Tac said, and walked back, putting the documents on the table, in front of Kristine, just far enough from her that Kristine had to reach to get them. The cat eared woman took a seat beside Kristine, smiling at the other people. “Tell me how you came to this position,” Judge Morrison said to Kristine. So Kristine told him of her meeting with Tac Friday evening and of her accepting the contract the next day. She kept it simple, to the point. Tac confirmed her story when asked. “When was the last time you worked on this case,” he asked her. “Friday evening, about 5pm.” “Anything since then?” “No sir.” “Have you had any contact with anyone involved in the case since then?” “Just Mr. Cotton. I let him know what happened, and met with him yesterday to, well, officially end my employment with the firm.” “Did you talk about the case?” She shook her head. “No sir.” Wendal shifted forward in his chair. “Any witnesses to this?” “I was there,” Tac said. At the same time Oscar said, “Emily Black from our IT department was there. She can be a witness as to our conversation. Shall I ask her to come by? I have a signed statement from her.” He brought an envelope from his jacket. “Give it here.” Oscar did so and Bernard looked it over. “Good enough,” he finally said. “I would like a ruling now as to if Miss St. James unfortunate situation in any way reflects on this case,” Oscar said. The judge looked at Wendal and his companion. “Are you requesting a stay in procedures?” Wendal did not answer immediately, but finally said, “Not at this time.” “Your honour, if not at this time than is I may be permitted to say, than not at all,” Oscar said. “More information could come up later in the case,” Wendal replied, a little heated. “We may need to request a stay or delay later.” “If things start to go bad for you,” Oscar said. Kristine had suspected but now knew exactly why Oscar had requested her presence there. “Enough,” Bernard said, loudly. No one else said anything. “Mr. Pine, if you do not see a reason to delay proceedings at this time, based on what we know, I will not allow you to request a later delay, unless you put further evidence in front of me that puts into question Miss St. James statement that she has had nothing to do with the case since her unfortunate transformation.” “Very well,” Wendal said. He did not sound happy about it. “All right, then this meeting is done. I will see you in court in,” he looked at his watch, “twenty minutes.” It was a dismissal that everyone recognized. They left the office. Out in the waiting room everyone started walking away. Daniel paused, looked at her, back at the others who were all watching, and they said, “I’m sorry this happened to you.” Then he walked off. Not about to taint the case by being seen associating with her. She was alone. She found Yvonne, down the hall, waiting for her. She returned to the bathroom on the first floor, changing back into her own clothing. She held up the tights, making sure there were not tell tale stains on the white cotton, then shoved them into the garment bag with the dress. “Thank you,” she said as she handed the bag back to Yvonne outside of the bathroom. “You’re welcome,” she said with a smile before turning and walking away. “Now what?” Tac asked from where she lazily leaned on a wall. “I guess I’ll go shopping.” “Good, I like shopping.” Kristine supposed some retail therapy was a way to not think of things. Or maybe not think that there was nothing left to really think about. She was a magical girl, and it seemed that was all she would be. All she could be. So letting her mind focus on buying a new wardrobe was welcome. She looked for quality, triple stitching, good materials, nothing that looked like it had been made in a sweatshop. Since training panties and, not that she wanted to admit it, diapers, were going to be a constant she looked for skirts and dresses mostly, to make changing easier. She bought some slacks and loose jeans, but they made up only a small part of her new and growing wardrobe. Quality and conservative were her watchwords. She soon had several bags full of clothing. Tac had to help her carry them. A number of training bras were added to her purchases. As she had the day before Kristine got the idea that most of the sales people who sold them to her were ultimately humouring her. What she did not need (assuming she was not going to chance a mess) were panties, but she bought them anyways. She did not want anyone thinking about why she would not be buying them. It was about mid afternoon when she decided to go home. She and Tac stuffed a taxi’s trunk full of clothing of all sorts, and the back seat was pretty full too. They did not get a driver who wanted to speak so Kristine sat in the back seat, feeling tired and wet, hoping her training panties did not leak. Fortunately she made it back to her apartment leaving the seat behind her dry. She and Tac hauled everything up to her apartment and Kristine went to change. She had leaked a little on her way up, little damp spots on the seat of her slacks. After changing into a dry pair of training panties she tossed the slacks into the laundry hamper and then, in only her socks, blouse and training panty, began to unpack her purchases. She was not sure at first what to do with all her old clothing, but after a few minutes of looking though it she realized it had to go. There was no point in keeping it around, other than to torture herself. She found some boxes and used the bags all her new things had come in and packed away all her old things. She would donate them to a some charity, or better yet a woman’s shelter. Maybe her suits would do someone some good. As she finished boxing the last of the old things up she felt odd, as if something were off. She found herself walking about the apartment, looking onto corners, opening things up. As small as the apartment was her actions did not go unnoticed. “What are you doing?” Tac asked her. Kristine looked at the cat. “Something feels off, but I don’t know what.” “Probably just because you are being watched.” “What?” Tac, in cat form again, stretched out. “Yeah. Not long after we got back.” “Where?” she asked, starting towards the windows. “Stop, don’t be stupid,” the cat told her. “Pardon?” she looked back at Tac. “You don’t want them to know you spotted them. That’s like tradecraft 101.” “Tradecraft?” She shook her head. “What should I do?” “Stop being stupid?” “Aren’t you supposed to help me?” “If I can make you stop being stupid that would help a lot.” “You make me want to kick you.” “Transform. Put your pacifier in your pie hole and teleport down there.” Kristine wanted to say something snide, but the cat was right. “Thank you,” she said softly. “What was that?” “I said thank you,” she snapped, and then before Tac might say anything else she transformed. Teleporting about, being invisible, it was all pretty amazing. It almost made being a magical girl worthwhile. Though not the diapers. She stood beside the car, not seen by the occupants, looking into the windows. It did not take her long to figure out who they were. There was a file, open in the back seat, with some stationary with the Pine law firm letterhead on it. So they were looking for proof that she was still somehow involved in the case. Good luck on finding that, she thought as she teleported up onto roof of a nearby high-rise. She took the pacifier from her mouth. “Annoying.” “I will teach you a spell to chase them away,” Tac said. “Chase them away?” “Sure. Magic Girls need to make the mundanes scatter sometimes, stay away from dangerous places. Nice simple spell. You envision something unpleasant and focus it… Though with your weird ways of casting spells who know how it will work. Still, it is simple enough.” “No.” “No what?” “I’m not going to cast it. They are just doing their jobs, and it is not like they are going to see anything that will be a problem for Cotton and Black. I’ll just ignore them.” “But this is a teachable moment.” “I don’t care.” She teleported back to her apartment and ended her magical girl transformation. Tac had jumped from her shoulder. “Boring.” “I can learn that spell later,” she told the cat as she picked up the packed boxes and stacked them next to the door. Tac shook her cat head and then went and curled up on the couch. Kristine went and cleaned everything up, considering what she might do if she got a house. That all she needed to do was to want one and she would given one seemed so unlikely. It was like she had won a lottery. And in a way she supposed she had. Just not a lottery that she would have bought a ticket for. She had everything sorted out and cleaned up when she heard someone knocking at her door. Not expecting any visitors she went to the door, stood up on her toes, and looked out the peephole. On her doorstep stood the handsome Olivia. “What the hell?” she asked aloud even as she unlocked the door. “Olivia, you can’t be here, there…” That was all she got before Oliva had her wrapped in her arms, her lips pressed against Kristine’s, her tongue slipping into Kristine’s mouth. It was like the night they had last seen each other. That was one of her thoughts at that moment. She also recalled that their hands had been in each other panties, and she worried that Olivia’s hands would slide down from her shoulders and discover what she wore instead of panties. That was another of her thoughts. She also was a little surprised at the tongue in her mouth. It seemed strange and well, the only word that came to her mind, strangely was, gross. It seemed a little gross. Then suddenly before Kristine could think of anything Oliva pushed her away, she herself stumbling a few steps back to fall against the door jamb. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Oliva said, crying. Kristine stared at Olivia, her mouth hanging open. She closed her mouth, then asked, “Sorry? What? Why?” “I heard, I thought, it didn’t matter. I was in love with you. I was sure it didn’t matter what you looked like, but it felt so wrong. I’m sorry.” “Olivia?” She took a step forward, then stopped. “You love me?” She was surprised. She liked Olivia, a lot, but in love? “Oh,” she said. Of course she loved Olivia as well. Why had she not seen it? “I…” “I don’t love you anymore,” Olivia cried and wiped at her eyes, smearing eyeliner. “What?” “You’re a child, when I look at you I feel nothing. When I kissed you I just felt like a monster.” She straightened. “I never should have come here. I have to leave.” “Olivia…” Kristine took a step forward. “No, Kristine, I can’t be near you. It’s ripping me up.” Kristine stopped. “Goodbye.” She turned and fled from the apartment. “Olivia,” Kristine said softly, and took a step forward. She would just be torturing Olivia if she followed. “Well that was some nice drama,” Tac said as she jumped down from the couch. Kristine turned on the cat. “Shut up.” “That’s hardly nice. And here I am going to help you out.” “Help me out?” Tac saying anything like that seemed so foreign. She did not think the cat was capable of helping her. “I am going to take care of those guys in the car, so they don’t remember seeing your friend coming in here, cause that is probably important, then I am going to talk to your friend and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” “Oh,” Kristine said, suddenly feeling bad for her earlier thought. “And then I am going to get her on the rebound and fuck her until she can’t even remember your name.” “What?” The cat looked up at her. “She’s got a nice figure, and I am one horny kitty.” “Listen you damn cat I’ll pick you up by the scruff o the neck and shake the sh…” Tac was suddenly the buxom, tall woman in a tuxedo. She moved fast, grabbing Kristine and yanking the smaller girl across her lap as she dropped onto the couch. Skirt flipped up, training panties yanked down, she proceeded to wail on Kristine’s bottom, in the middle of the apartment, with the door to the hallway wide opened. It was humiliating. And it hurt a lot. “Listen up, I put up with a lot of crap from you cause your are cute, but you don’t get to tell me who I fuck.” Kristine was squirming, trying to break free, biting down on screams and sobs, worried someone could come and look into her apartment. Then suddenly she was on the floor, dumped from Tac’s lap, and Tac was heading out the door. “Don’t wait up,” Tac called back with a cruel smile as she left. Kristine watched her go, wiped her eyes, then stumbled to her feet, and with the training panties around her ankles, stumbled to the door and closed it. She bent down, pulled the training panties up. As they slid over her well spanked bottom she hissed at how much it had hurt. Had that bitch Tac used claws when she spanked her? Well, she would show Tac, she would… What would she do? Chase after Tac, tell her to leave Olivia alone? Scream ‘don’t have sex with my ex girlfriend’? It was ridiculous. Olivia was not stupid, no easy lay. If Tac could seduce her it would be because it was what Olivia wanted, at least at that moment. She sat down on the couch. Jumped up with a cry of pain. What sort of crazy magical spanking had Tac given her? She stood there, still sniffing, thinking about her friend and her life and her very adulthood which had all been snatched away for some stupid reason. She thought about how helpless she felt about it all. She thought about how there was nothing she could do about any of it. “Mr. Bear,” she cried. And then the bear was there and she threw herself into its warm, soft hug. She cried into the fur and Mr. Bear gently patted her bottom, easing the pain there. She felt completely pathetic, and at the same time completely safe. -- That is where I have paused in writing this. Will probably take a while to let the continuation percolate in my mind before starting up again. Thanks for your comments. I have appreciated them.
  6. A Too Late Magical Girl

    No harm in nitpicking. You might be right. The next morning Kristine woke to an orgasm that left her lying in her sweat soaked sheets, breathing heavily. She could not recall the last time an erotic dream had left her so flustered. Probably when she had been a teen. For a time she lay there, breathing deeply as the warm glow faded. It was perhaps a minute or two after she had woken that she realized she was wearing a diaper. She knew she had gone to bed in a training panty. “Fuck,” she said softly, wondering if the training panty had magically become a diaper, or if Mr. Bear had visited her in the night. Neither possibility pleased her. The diaper, she realized, as she got out of bed, was quite wet. The sheets, except for the sweat, were very dry. She had to admit, given the options, she preferred the wet diaper to wet sheets. Though of course having neither problem would be most preferable of all. She walked to the bathroom, tearing the wet diaper off as she went. There where, Kristine noted as the diaper landed in the trash, several training panties already in the trash. Was she going to have the throw out garbage bags full of diapers and training panties every week? And shouldn’t the magic deal with them in a more environmentally friendly manner? Why was she evening thinking such things? Sighing she went into her bathroom to shower. Later, in a fresh pair of training panties and an over size t-shirt, Kristine ate her breakfast at the small kitchen counter, while browsing the web. She was looking for information about herself. There were a number of pictures of her from when she had first transformed, various stories about her, all of them made up of suppositions and outright lies. There was a story about the smugglers she had caught the other night, but no mention of the way she had left them. Had the magic faded, or were the police just keeping quiet about how they had found them? At least no one was suggesting a connection between her magical girl persona and the smugglers. Not yet at least. For the morning she treated the day like any lazy Sunday. She read a book while drinking a cup of coffee, or she tried. The coffee tasted terrible. She made two more cups before she realized that it was not the coffee but her. Coffee tasted bad to her now. That sucked. Instead of reading she went through her kitchen and tried different things. Some teas were ail right, as was milk, and the almost expired carton of orange juice she could drink. However she found that alcohol tasted terrible and several fancy cheeses that she had liked no longer suited her. When she catalogued what she liked she found the menu options to be somewhat, well, juvenile. Really, it was bad enough she had to wear training panties and diaper, did she really now need to subsist on a diet of peanut butter sandwiches and milk? Getting a handle on her new palate took up much of the morning, and by the time she cleaned up it was getting close to her meeting time. The day before while shopping, she had picked up a few more pieces of clothing than just the denim overalls and blouse. A pair of grey slacks and a light blue blouse gave her, well, not a professional look, she thought looking in a mirror, but at least a well turned out appearance. She had found a pair of shiny black loafers with tassels over the toe. They were cheap, she doubted that they would last longer than a month of constant wear, but they looked decent enough. So dressed she grabbed her work bag, shoved a few more pairs of training panties into it, then headed out. Just outside of her apartment building she was met by Tac who sat, lounging on a bench. “What are you doing?” Kristine asked her. “Enjoying the sun,” the woman said. “It’s a cat thing. You going to that work thing.” “I’m going to talk to a man I worked for.” “I’ll tag along,” she said, standing, becoming a cat, then leaping onto Kristine’s shoulder. “Why are you coming?” “Boredom mostly. This might be funny.” “I’m going to throw you into traffic,” Kristine muttered, but she let the cat ride on her shoulder. As she rode on the subway she wondered what Oscar would say to her. She wondered if she could keep her job. She did recall the part of the contract that said no magical people could work at the law firm, but she hoped that they would make an exception. Being a lawyer was what she had wanted for years. Looking down at her small feet she wondered what sort of career she could have. Could she go to court, looking like a girl? She shifted on the seat, squirming a little, trying to judge how wet the padding under her bottom might be. It did feel a little wet, but she thought likely just damp rather than soaked. What a thing to have gotten used to, she thought, and in only less than a day really. How soon before she was just wearing the diapers that Mr. Bear seemed to want her in? She shook her head, the action attracting Tac’s attention. “What is it?” the cat asked. “Nothing, just a thought I want out of my head.” “Weird.” “I don’t want to hear that from you.” Tac remained silent and Kristine sat there for the rest of the ride, mind going around in unproductive circles. She got off one stop sooner than she usually did when going to work. The coffee shop was about two blocks away from the subway station. The area, mostly business office towers and the like, was fairly quiet on the Sunday afternoon. The ‘Smart Bean’ was an upscale little shop, often crowded during the week but very nearly empty now. She saw Oscar Cotton sitting at one of the tables near the back of the shop. He had looked up from his phone when she had come in, looked at her, then went back to his phone. He did not recognize me, she thought. She walked across the floor, went to stand up beside the table that he sat at. “Mr. Cotton,” she said. He looked up from the phone. He looked at her. “Can I help you?” He looked confused. She produced her bridging ID and handed it to him. He looked at it, the confusion in his expression growing. Finally he looked at her. “Miss St. James?” “Yes sir.” “Magic,” he said, sounding disgusted at he handed her back the ID. “May I have a seat?” she asked. He nodded at the seat opposite to him. She sat, her feet not quite touching the ground. Tac jumped down from her shoulder and into her lap. “I got you a coffee,” he told her, indicating the cup in front of her. “Thank you,” she said, taking it. She loved Smart Bean coffee, the rich dark roast, of course black. It was bitter and awful to her changed tastebuds, but she kept her expression neutral as she took a drink. “What happened?” he asked her. She told him, most of it, leaving out the part about diapers and baby themed stuff, but covering the basics. Kristine finished with, “It was not what I wanted. I never would have made the decision, but I was going to die.” “I understand,” he told her. “I want to continue working with Cotton and Black. I’m a victim. I know that there is a clause in the contract about magic, but it’s not fair.” She blushed realizing how childish she sounded. He did not answer her immediately, instead picking up his coffee cup and drinking from it. He put it down when he finished the contents and asked, “Did you study magical law in law school?” The question confused her a little, and she thought back about law school, not so much about the classes she took, but the ones she did not. “I don’t remember anything about magical law,” she told him. “Just some details about the nature of the treaties between the worlds.” “Do you know how the law works in the Magical Realm?” She shook her head. “If you are accused of a crime you are brought before one of the most powerful magic users in the area. They cast a truth spell and you are asked if you did what you were accused of. Once you answer you either go free or are punished.” Kristine did not say anything for a few seconds, and then, “But that is incriminating yourself.” “No such protection in the Magical Realm.” “But what if there are witnesses?” “No witnesses are ever called.” “What if the accused has magic powerful enough to trick the spell?” “Might makes right.” “But…” Oscar held up a hand, stopping Kristine’s words. “I am not here to debate the nature of the Magical Realms. That is how it works because that is how it has to work. Magic complicates things. Witnesses might have seen an illusion, or be under a spell of compulsion. Evidence may be summoned out of nothing. In a world like that they use the simplest way to deal with it. That is why you never saw any courses concerning magical law. That is why you can no longer work at Cotton and Black. “In fact, I am going to have to call the opposing lawyers and tell them that a young person articling with us has become a magical girl. Likely they will ask for an extension while they make sure nothing in our case has been magically tampered with, they might even ask that the judge simply rule for them seeing as the case is now tainted.” “But I just became magical girl yesterday.” “And you have a witness to that?” “Sure she does,” Tac said, speaking up. Oscar looked surprised for a moment at the talking animal, but only a moment. “That will help, I might need to call you to tell your story to the judge.” “Anything to help,” Kristine answered without thinking. Oscar nodded. “I appreciate it. Did you bring you work ID, keys, laptop?” “What? No. Why?” “I’ll need the keys and ID and I’ll need to have one of our IT people take a look at your personal laptop.” Well, that was clearly a sign that her time with Cotton and Black were over. “I’ll have to go home and get all that. It will take about an hour, maybe a little longer. I guess I can take a taxi.” “No need. I will drive you to your home. We can take care of all of that as soon as possible.” “As soon as possible,” Kristine echoed back. He nodded. She stood, dumping Tac from her lap. “I got to go to the bathroom,” she said, and headed to the back of the coffee shop. She did not have to go to the bathroom, or maybe she did, she no longer knew, but she was not about to sit in someone’s car without checking to make sure her training panties were not about to leak. In the stall, the somewhat complicated task of getting her pants off made her decide it was possible skirts would be a large part of her future wardrobe. The training panties were wet, though not sodden. She decided not to take a chance and changed into a dry pair. Fortunately there was no one else in the bathroom to see her toss the wet training panties into the garbage before she washed her hands. On leaving the bathroom she found Oscar at standing at the front door, talking to a familiar looking blonde woman. She was tall, Kristine thought, probably equal in height to Oscar, and in her heels she stood taller. Long blonde hair, fair skin, pretty. Oscar noticed Kristine as she approached. “Kristine, this is Emily Black, of the IT department.” That explained why she had looked familiar. “Black?” she asked. “My Uncle is Oscar’s partner, but don’t worry, I did not get the job due to nepotism.” Oscar laughed at what was probably a private joke, then said, “Emily will have to check your laptop, you understand.” Not pleased, Kristine nodded. “Of course.” “Let’s go,” he said, and led them from the restaurant. His car was only a few blocks away, a dark blue Lexus, four doors. Emily took the front seat, leaving the back for Kristine. Seeing the leather interior she was glad she had changed her training panties. In the front seat Oscar and Emily talked business, the IT side of things. Kristine’s computer knowledge was obviously not as deep as that of Emily’s, but she thought she might be able to join in. However, she got the feeling that she was not expected to take part in the conversation. Neither made any effort to include her. She sat quiet in the back, petting Tac who slept in her lap. About twenty minutes later Oscar pulled into her apartment’s visitor parking lot. His car looked a little out of place, and he parked some distance from the other cars. As Kristine got out she looked at the building, suddenly feeling that she did not want either of these people to see how she lived. She knew it was ridiculous. She was a recent graduate, no one would expect her to be living in any sort of luxury. She squared her shoulders and said, “This way.” Kristine led them into the building and up into her apartment. Could they smell the used diapers she had been throwing out? Would they see them. “Where’s your laptop?” Emily asked, breaking Kristine out of her thoughts. “Here,” she walked across the room and got the laptop, bringing it back to Emily. As Emily set up Kristine went and got her work ID and various security keys which she presented to Oscar. “Can I get you to log in?” Emily asked her. She had the laptop on and it had booted up. Oscar stood near the door, waiting patiently, as Kristine logged into the laptop. “This won’t take long,” Emily said as she went to work. “Just going to remove the VPN software and proprietary data, check for any files from the firm.” Kristine nodded. As promised it did not take long for Emily to finish up with the laptop. She plugged a USB key into, fingers typing rapidly. Kristine looked towards Oscar, but he had his smart phone out, looking at that. He was obviously not interested in talking. And what would they say to each other anyway. About a minute later Emily pulled the USB key out of the laptop. “It’s clean” Oscar looked away from the phone. “Good. Thank you for working on a Sunday.” Emily smiled at Kristine and then looked to Oscar and said, “This was a special case, so no problem.” “Miss St. James, again, I am sorry. You might have become a good lawyer.” “Thank you,” Kristine said. It was the only thing she could say. They left, talking again about the firm’s IT requirements. She was no longer on their minds. She closed her apartment door and went back to the couch, flopping down and looking at her laptop. Shifting forward, feeling her training panties squelch under her, she worked on the computer, checking to see what had been removed, making sure that her pictures and a few other things she would not want to lose were still there. “Damn,” she said, slumping down. “What’s the problem there?” Tac asked, jumping onto the back of the couch. Kristine looked up at the cat. “There are so many answers to that.” “Got one that I might care about?” She mumbled something unflattering under her breath and then said, “I am out of a job.” “I am aware. Don’t care.” “Well, you should, cause I am going to be out on the street soon.” “I don’t see how you being out on the street is a problem for me, but I will point out that you are stupid?” “Stupid? That i need money is stupid? That I still got student loans is stupid? That I can’t even afford to buy new clothes is stupid?” “Those things seem more on the sad side than stupid,” Tac told her. “What is stupid is that you have forgotten you got a magic bag that has almost everything you need.” “What? It has money in it?” She could not believe that. “Why not summon it and find out,” Tac paused, “stupid.” She sat up straight, making certain to knock Tac off the back of the couch as she did not. “Not cool,” Tac said as she fell. Holding her hands out in front of her she pictured the bag and it dropped out into her arms. She placed it beside her and opened it up. She found the familiar diapers and training panties, food and drink and baby care products and Mr. Bear, but no money. “Well?” she asked Tac, who had jumped up beside her. She grabbed a couple of pair of training panties, knowing she was going to need them. “Open up the zippered, front pocket.” She did. Inside she found an envelope. Written on its was ‘for clothes’. Opening it revealed a stack of twenties and fifties and some hundreds. Counting it revealed there to be about four thousand dollars. “Where did this come from?” she demanded of Tac. “Where do you think? Banks.” “Is it…” “Stolen? Don’t be stupid. There is trade between the Magic and the Mundane Realms. The Magic Realm enjoys a huge trade surplus, but we don’t have use for your money, so we leave it here. When an agent, like you, needs money, you get money.” She looked at all the bills. “I don’t have to work anymore.” “You don’t.” “If I want a bigger apartment? A house.” “You’d get it.” “A sports car?” “Can you reach the pedals.” “Shut up.” “You won’t be getting any mansions, unless you need one, and probably not any of those fancy Italian sports cars,” Tac paused, “do they still have them?” After Kristine nodded Tac continued, “or diamond studded golden back scratchers, but you’ll have what you need for a comfortable, easy life. Magic Girls have it good.” She did not have to work. “I wanted to be a lawyer.” “I wanted to be a rich princess who never had to travel to the Mundane Realm. I did not get that,” Tac told her. “Life is unfair. Suck it up. We’re going hunting tonight.” “Hunting?” “I am going to teach your to track minor magical threats. An important skill for a Magical Girl.” “Yay for me,” Kristine said sarcastically. Several hours of hunting down, and in some cases killing, small magical beings (goblins and such) left Kristine tired and wet. Returning to her apartment she dismissed her magical outfit and then went to take a shower. Clean, in a dry pair of training panties, she took a seat on her couch and turned on her laptop. She just wanted to stream some movies and relax, maybe check out some real estate as well. As the laptop booted up she reached for her phone. There was a message. From Oscar. She played it. His recored voice came from the phone. ‘Miss St. James, I want you to come to the courthouse tomorrow. Call me.’ She stared at the phone for a few seconds. It did not make any sense to her. She had been certain she would never hear from him again. After several seconds she hit the icon to call him back. After a few rings it was answered. “Miss St. James,” Oscar said. “You wanted to speak with me Mr. Cotton?” He was silent for a few seconds, then said, “I would appreciate it if you showed up at court tomorrow, an 9am. I have a meeting with the judge and I want you to be there.” Her eyes widened as, for a moment, she imagined that he would be making a case for her to remain part of the case, but only for a moment. That was stupid. “Why?” she asked, sounding a little more bitter than she wanted. “I want to get the judge’s ruling as to whether your recent change compromises the case. The judge will have questions, it would be best if you where there.” “I understand. I’ll help.” She paused and then said, “I have nothing to wear for court.” Oscar did not tell her not to worry. He would never tell her that. The right clothing was an important part to one’s presentation in court. After a short silence he said, “I’ll bring something, Don’t worry.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, I will be there.” “Thank you Miss St. James, I appreciate it.” “I am glad to help,” she answered. “I will see you tomorrow.” He hung up. She looked at her phone for a few seconds and then tapped the hangup icon. Gently chewing on her bottom lip she wondered what tomorrow would be like. Would she be a professional in the room, or would be she like some weird piece of evidence. It worried at her all night and she crawled into bed early, setting her alarm before she pulled the covers over her head.
  7. A Too Late Magical Girl

    The taxi that Kristine had called dropped her off in front of a nondescript government building in the downtown core. She stood there, looking about, noting that a few people were taking note of her. She told herself that was because she was dressed in a ridiculous manner and not because they knew she was wearing training panties. Still, it was hard not to think that they were somehow showing, or they were making her walk a little different, or there was a soft rustle of plastic, or that she had wet then and they were leaking. She could not stop herself from surreptitiously checking her shorts for damp spots. Taking a deep breath she walked into the building. It had an old look, with clean but dull black and white tiles on the floor, and high ceiling of much patched plaster. No one was in the lobby except for a single security guard sitting at a desk near the elevators. He did not look up when she entered, his attention on the book he was reading. When she got closer he looked up from the book and asked, “Can I help you?” He did not get up from behind his desk. “Uh, yes. I was told to come here, to ask for Mr. Green.” “Take the elevator up to the ninth floor, third door on your right,” he told her. “Thanks.” She crossed the floor to the elevators. The guard had gone back to reading his book. The doors opened a moment after she pressed the button. She took a surprised step back, wondering how someone had know to have it waiting. Then she realized she was stupid. It was a weekend. No one was there and likely all the elevators were just stopped at the ground floor. She stepped in and pressed the button for the ninth floor. The interior walls were polished, metal mirrors. Tac jumped from her shoulder and was once more a woman. “This place has a classic feel,” Tac said, looking at her reflection. She reached into the pocket of her suit jacket and took out a lipstick tube. “As do I.” She touched up her makeup. Kristine had already gotten a good look at herself, and the mirrored walls showed her nothing she did not already know (except for maybe making it clear how much a ragamuffin she looked). However, standing beside the sexy Tac the changes were brought into stark relief. She was a child, well, she looked like one. When they had first met Kristine figured she was a near equal in the looks department to Tac. Now of course it was no contest. As she was there was no way she could compete. Before she could think on that much more the doors opened. She stepped out, leaving the mirrors and their cruel truths behind. Third door on her right. Slab of wood, no windows, old, metal door knob. She tried it. The door opened. There was an empty reception counter behind it, beyond which a waiting room. Six doors, one an obvious bathroom. One of the doors opened. And older man stepped out. Thinning black hair, tanned skin, gold rimmed glasses and a blue suit. “I’m Mr. Green,” he said, looking her up and down. “Kristine St. James.” “You have your ID?” “Yes.” “Please.” He stepped aside and indicated that she should enter the office. Kristine walked around the counter and into the room beyond, Tac at her heels. It was an office, with a big oak desk and a single visitor chair. Kristine took that seat. Tac became a cat and jumped onto her knee. Mr. Green stepped beside her. “Your ID?” She reached into her bag and brought it all out. Taking it he went and sat down behind the desk. “That is a rather large change,” he told her as he looked through everything she had given him. “I know.” “Well, this is all simple enough.” “What?” She could not believe anything about what had happened was simple. “We’ll give you bridging ID, as well as new ID, all of it will allow you to prove to people who you are. Do you want a new identity?” Kristine thought about that for a moment, then asked, “What good would a new identity do me?” “Depends. If there is anyone after you, creditors, ex boyfriends, that sort of thing, a new identity can be useful.” She frowned. “Do other magical girls get new identities?” “Not often at first, after several months it is more common.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Very well.” Mr. Green stood. “This way.” In one of the other offices there was a camera and several impressive looking printers. Mr. Green took her picture and then printed out several pieces of ID. The bridging ID, as he had called it, mated her old ID with new, while the new ID just showed her as she now looked. It took about thirty minutes, then he handed the bundle of ID to her. “I’ve put in a request for a new passport, that should be delivered to you soon. If you need anything else call this number.” He handed her a card. “Like a new ID?” “Or legal assistance. It sometimes happens.” She did not say she was a lawyer (or almost one), but took his card. “Thank you.” “Good luck Miss St. James.” “Thank you.” She stepped from the room, then looked back at Mr. Green. “Can I use the bathroom?” “Feel free.” She nodded. The washroom was small, with a toiler and a urinal as well as a sink. The tiling on the floor was old, faded and cracked in a few places, but the bathroom was clean. She reached through the leg of her shorts, felt the training panties. As she suspected they were warm, the padding swollen up with a wetting. “Damn,” she said softly as she loosened her belt. It was easy to summon the diaper bag. She was a little worried Mr. Bear might jump out, but the teddy bear remained a toy and she took out a new training panty and dismissed the bag. Changed into a fresh pair of the absorbent panties she left the bathroom. Cat Tac was waiting for her. No sign of Mr. Green. She left the office without looking for him. In the lobby the guard was still reading his book. He did not look up as he wished her a good afternoon. Before going home Kristine went to do some shopping. Tac came with her, in human form, though she was soon off in stores and parts of stores that Kristine knew she would look ridiculous were she to shop in. She had to try on a few things to get her new size figured out, and she needed to rethink her old style choices. That was made clear when a pair of tight jeans, which was just the kind of thing she would have bought before, made the padding of her training pants fairly obvious. She found a pair of denim overalls, lose enough in the seat to hide any puffiness from undergarments, that she thought looked okay for her new body type. Paired with a white, long sleeved shirt and a pair of running shoes she thought she looked okay. Well, she looked like a girl, but at least a girl who did not dress too childlike. She bought a few more things, using cash. In theory with her bridging ID she could use her credit cards, but she did not want to deal with that. Her final stop was to buy some training bras. She did not think she actually needed a bra, but she had been wearing one for long enough she was not willing to give it up. Tac came with her and seemed to make a great point of looking at sexy bras in large cup sizes. The woman at the shop was kind and helpful, though from her look Kristine was pretty certain that that she was of the opinion Kristine did not actually need one. Kristine walked out of the store with three training bras that were really just cotton vests with a bra like design. Like a little girl being sent out with some to salve a childish bit of vanity. Getting home she dropped her shopping bags at the door and went to her bathroom to check her training panties. They were wet. Of course. “Fuck,” she said softly, then, with her coveralls and training panties around her ankles, sat on the toilet. Maybe she could re-potty train herself if she just made the attempt. “Hey, did you fall in?” she heard Tac call from the other side of the door several minutes later. “I didn’t fall in,” she said angrily as she got off the toilet. She bent down and pulled up the training pants. The now cool, wet padding pressed uncomfortably against her, but she would put up with it. She was still buttoning the strap of her overalls when she came out to find Tac the cat sitting on the coffee table. “Now that you are finished in there we need to talk about work.” “Work? What does the law firm have to do with anything?” “Not your mundane and boring work that does not matter. Your work as a magical girl.” “What do you mean it does not matter?” “You said it yourself. No magic, and it is not like the little girl you are now can go to work after all.” “You’re asking to be picked up and thrown again,” Kristine said angrily as she went over to get her phone. “What are you doing?” Tac asked her. “Sending Mr. Cotton an email. You’re right, damn it, I can’t go to work like this, but I have to let him know what happened.” She paused. How was she going to explain what happened? What could she tell him? The truth. Well, at least as much as the truth as he needed. The email was fairly simple. She told him she had encountered magic, had been changed by it, and could not be present, but would like to speak with him about it, to explain in detail. It was short, and left so much unsaid, but it was good enough. She sent it and then tossed the phone onto the couch, dropped down beside it. Her training panties ‘squelched’ unpleasantly around her bottom. “Finished with your pointless mundane job issues?” Tac asked. “Fuck off.” “Little girls that talk like that get their mouths washed out… assuming they still do that.” “Child abuse,” Kristine said, putting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “Well, your Mr. Bear probably does not know that, so watch your tone. And I would love to fuck off, and I can say it because I am a mature adult, but until I finish training you I can’t leave. So let’s talk about your real job, the one you accepted when you accepted your magical girl powers.” Kristine said nothing for a few seconds, then in a despondent tone said, “Fine, but what am I supposed to do? Didn’t you say the Nursery Knight’s,” she hated that name, “defeated their enemy?” “The Nightmare King, and yes, he was defeated, so I can’t train you fighting him and his minions, but there are always useful enough targets for you to focus on.” “Like what?” “Smugglers.” “Smugglers?” If you could line of sight teleport you could move across the city quite fast. It was exhilarating, the roller coaster stomach drop of each jump, appearing on the top of some building’s roof, looking out over the sea of sky scrapers for the next jump, and then it repeated. For moments Kristine could forget she was outfitted as an overgrown toddler, with a thick diaper pushing her thighs apart. A diaper that for all she knew might already be wet. In those moments she felt powerful. Faster than any car might have covered the distance, perhaps as fast as a helicopter might have, Kristine reached the edge of the city, where the buildings became smaller, but sprawled more, warehouses that took up entire city blocks. They were near the docks, though not close to the well lit, busy sections, where huge cranes moved cargo containers. They were on the edge, where warehouses gave away to empty factories, a part of the city where things had started to decay, where dreams had faded. “Down there,” Tac told her from where the cat rode on her shoulder. Tac held out a paw, pointing towards a warehouse on the water’s edge, where a ruined quay was half sunk into the water. “And put your pacifier in your mouth so you’ll be invisible.” She grabbed the pacifier from where it hung on the ribbon, popped it into her mouth and began to suckle on it. As before it made her feel better. She hoped it was not addictive. Focusing on the low roof of a warehouse below she once more crossed the distance in a moment, ended up standing on the edge of a roof, looking down at cracked asphalt apron in front of the shuttered loading dock. There were a large number of men down where, carrying travelling trunk sized crates out of the warehouse and loading them into several rental trucks. They worked by the light of red filtered flashlights, kept their voices down. “They have gotten armour from the magical realm. It’s old crap where I come from but here it will stop even heavy, armour piercing rounds,” Tac said into her ear. “Why do I haf to thtop thmugglerth?” she asked around her pacifier. “Well, the magical realm really should have stopped this stuff from being exported, so it falls on agents like you to deal with it. And this is good training. They don’t have any weapons that could stop you.” “Weally?” Kristine asked. “The armour of your outfit could probably stop a tank round. They are just going to have handguns.” Handguns? “Wiwl thith outfit weally pwotect me?” It left her arms and face and almost all her legs bare. “Trust me,” Tac said. She hated the fact she had to trust Tac. “Just jump down there and tell them you are here to punish them as Nursery Night Krissy.” “I don’t wanna. Can’t I jutht thtay invithible and walk awound hittin’ them on da head?” “No. You are a magical girl, not some nocturnal mammal themed vigilante. You are a symbol of the power of innocence and you don’t get to be a symbol by hiding. You don’t want to throw your magic off. It might not work.” “Tho, it might not pwotect me?” “Well, it won’t fail you completely, but it is likely to hurt a lot more.” “Fine,” she sighed through the pacifier, then she spat it out and jumped down onto one of the truck’s roof, calling up her mace as she fell. She landed with a creaking of heavy suspension and crunching of metal as the roof crated and cracked around her. That was crazy, she thought, she just jumped down two stories. No time to think too much on that. Stepping to the edge of the truck’s roof, looking down at the smugglers, she said, “I am Nurthewy Knight Kwithy! Thwow down your weaponth and thuwender or I will punith you.” Punish? Ugh. What a terrible choice of words. The men below her swore, and expressed shock, fear, confusion. Some looked like they were ready to run. Other pulled out the pistols that Tac had mentioned. She jumped down from the truck, landing on one of the crates. It shattered beneath her feet. She pointed the mace at one of the smugglers. “Thuwender.” The man shot her. Guarantee of protection or not, the sight of the gun being fired, the boom of the shot, it made her scream, and she fell backwards, lading on her diapered bottom. She did not have time to think about it but she was certain that fear had ensured the diaper was well used at that moment. Something had touched her head. That was the best way to explain how it felt, a gentle touch. Something rolled down the side of her face. She looked. It seemed to be a flattened bullet. “What are you doing?” Tac yelled from the roof. “You can’t be scared of a little pistol.” “Fine,” Kristine yelled as she jumped to her feet, swinging the mace out, even as the man was shooting her. The heavy mace smacked into his hand, knocking the gun aside with a crunch of breaking bones. The man screamed in pain, falling to the ground, clutching his ruined hand. “What are you doing?” Tac yelled from the roof. “You can’t hit them that hard. Use a little control. Your an adorable nursery knight, not some bone breaking vigilante.” “Thith ith tho annoying,” she shouted, as several more men fired at her and several others made to escape. She moved fast, even though she was waddling, and struck with as much control as she could manage. She used the handle of her mace to knock weapons from hands, to jab into guts and sweep feet. No more broken bones, just bruises and pokes that took the fight and the flight out of them. When it was over about a minute later she stood among the moaning men who lay on the ground about her. Tac had jumped down onto the roof of one of the trucks. “Now secure them so the police can come and pick them up.” “Thecure them?” “Handcuffs or the like, Just envision it and then call out the magic that comes to you.” Handcuffs, okay. Just picture them all with their arms cuffed behind their backs, except for the one whose hand and wrist she broke. She pictured more of a sling type cast on him. She held up her mace and called out the words the came to her. “Naughty Boyth thhut up and thtay thtill,” she yelled. Those were not the words she had expected to come out of her mouth. Around the men sparking light appeared, falling around them, lifting them, and then coalescing into… wheeled chairs with various restraint straps. Oh hell, they were all large strollers, she thought. Around then hands formed pink mittens that fastened the mens hands behind their backs with pink ribbons. And pacifier gags. Well she supposed they were going to stay still and shut up, but really. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Tac asked. “I jutht did what you thaid,” Kristine said angrily as she turned on Tac. “I pictured them rethtwained, with handcuffth. It ith the thtupid magic.” “What a mess. I mean, it’s like your some kind of bondage pervert.” “I’m not a bondage pewvert,” she yelled up at Tac. “Well that’s not… Look out!” “What…” Pain. Like fire painted in a line across her back. She fell forward onto her knees. Behind her, the sound of metal scraping across the ground. No thought. She raised the mace above her head. Something it it with a crash. The force of it feeling as if it would dislocate her shoulders. She rolled forward, her back flaming in fresh pain as it rolled across the ground. Up on her feet. Facing her attacker. A man, in armour, holding a sword. “That sword is from the Magical Realm,” Tac called out. “I can hurt you.” “No thit,” Kristine said as she parried another sword strike. The man was relentless, coming at her fast, forcing her completely on the defence. Several times the tip of the blade trace out red lines on her arms and legs, even cutting her clothing at times. The laceration on her back bled freely. She could feel the blood running down her back, likely into her diaper. What a mess that would be. Tac shouted out less than useful advice as Kristine tried to find a way to attack. What was some crook with a magical sword doing beating her? She was a magical girl. She was a Magical Girl. “Innothent Wattle Thaker!” Swinging out her mace she slammed it into the sword. The sword shattered under the blow. She swung the mace back, driving it into her attacker’s side. He was wearing armour, she was certain he would be fine. And if he was not, well, the pain in her back made it hard to care. The armour all but shattered from his body, and the force of the blow sent him into the air and then down, hard, onto the ground. Still, she was pretty certain she had heard no bones break. “Naughty Boy cowner time.” The magic again came in glittering lights that lifted the man up and the coalesced out into the mitten restraints and the pacifier gag, but instead of a stroller he was secured to a stool, pants around his ankles, his nose pressed up against a wall. “I mean really,” Tac said as she jumped down onto Kristine’s shoulder. “This is too much.” “It’th your thtupid magic.” “Just call the police and let’s go.” Kirstine scowled, but she looked among the smugglers until she found a cellphone she could use. She called 911, reported that she had heard shots, then dropped the phone without hanging up. She picked up one of the fallen pistols and fired several shots into the air. “Nice touch,” Tac told her. “Thut up.” A moment later both cat and magical girl were gone, teleported away. Tac told Kristine not to transform back when they arrived at the apartment. “Get your magic bag, have some of the healing food and drink.” She did so. She also got Mr. Bear, who stripped her dress off her so he could mend it, as well as dressing her wound. He also changed a very soiled diaper, though she fought against him on that. Somehow in all that the fur on his paws remained clean. During all that Tac took her leave. She glowered at the big stuffed animal as she ate two jars of the baby food, while watching as it stitched up the rip in the dress, cleaning the blood from the material at the same time. She had no idea how it did that. She was drinking from a sippy cup (she could not remove the top from it) when Mr. Bear finished his work and quickly got her back into. The he pulled her down onto his big, soft lap, took the bottle from the bad, and proceeded to try to feed it to her. Keeping her lips closed and turning her head she did her best to avoid the nipple. She turned her head and said, “Tank you Mithter Bear, I…” And then he got the nipple securely placed in her mouth. When it became clear he was not going to give up until she drank she sucked on the nipple until the bottle was empty. It refilled itself, but Mr. Bear put the bottle back in the bag. “Tank you Mithter Bear, I wuv you,” she got out quickly. Mr. Bear returned to toy size and dropped into the bag. Kristine gabbed a couple of training panties from the bag and then dismissed it. “God damn I hate that thing.” She transformed back, thankfully losing the diaper, replaced by the training panties she had been wearing when she had transformed. She dropped into the couch and reached for the TV remote, turning it on and flipping through channels until something caught her attention and she left the channel on. Not really paying attention to what she was watching Kristine grabbed her laptop and turned it on. After powering up and logging on she saw she had email. Oscar had sent her a message. She had almost forgotten she had sent him a message. He wanted to see her. The next day, at a cafe she knew. She replied, said she would be there. Nervous fingers made spelling mistakes, it took twice as long to type it as it should have. She read it over and then sent it. That was done. Noise from the TV made her look up. A cartoon was on. She had been watching a cartoon? Grabbing the remote she flipped channels until she found the news. She was presented with a shaky cell phone video of a girl in a short dress and a diaper. Her. Hell. Kristine turned the TV off and went to get ready for bed.
  8. A Too Late Magical Girl

    Maybe once the room had been something more. Maybe once it had been clean, and sunlit, where decent people gathered. But that did not seem likely. A handful of lights made the shadows all that deeper. The walls and the floor were bare cement. It smelt of mold, stale vomit, piss and beer. The clientele often smelled just as bad. At the bar a large figure sat. Swathed in a long overcoat and wide brimmed hat, seeming to carry a cloud of shadows about itself. Every now and then the bartender would place a glass, filled from an unlabelled bottle, in front of the figure and the figure would throw some tattered bills on the bar. When Tac entered the bar almost every pair of eyes (in a few cases a single eye and in some more than two) was turned towards her. She was obviously out of place, with grace and style that was discordant with the general atmosphere of malignant neglect. A few watchers licked lips, or gripped groins, but most identified Tac as bad news and looked away. Tac, after placing a handkerchief on the stool, took a seat beside the large figure. The figure was one of the few who had not looked towards her. “General Hemlock, the First Lance of the Rose Empress… how the mighty have fallen.” Slowly the figure turned its head towards Tac. The brim of the hat cast most of the face in shadow, buy toxic green eyes shone out. “You were with those bitches.” “The Charms, Princess Calliope. She was the one who killed Empress Rose at the end. She was the one that beat you, then left you. She thought she was being kind.” The glass Hemlock’s hand shattered. “Yeah, it’s sad. You didn’t die in battle and you didn’t protect your Empress. And you can’t go home and you can’t do anything here, except drink.” Hemlock stood, towering over Tac. “Oh dear,” Tac said carelessly. “Are you going to kill me?” For a moment Hemlock stood there, then his shoulders sagged and he seemed to shrink in on himself. He dropped back onto his stool, turned away from Tac, back to the bar. A few bills were tossed onto the bar, for another drink. “That’s what I thought,” Tac said with a smile. “Still, maybe there is an opportunity. You see, there is a brand new Magical Girl out there. Just maybe you could kill her. Kill a Magical Girl and you could probably return home, little bit of honour instead of disgrace.” Hemlock’s head dipped, perhaps he was nodding. “Or she kills you, but you die like the great warrior you are.” The bartender placed a new drink in front of Hemlock. Hemlock picked it up and drank most of it in one gulp. “Tell me more,” Hemlock said. Kristine enjoyed a cup of coffee in a small cafe. She had a shopping bag on the seat beside her; her dry cleaning had been dropped off earlier. There was a little more shopping she needed to do, but was just happy to take a small rest. On Monday she would be in court. That was what mattered. Not some stupid cat who wanted her to become a ridiculous Magical Girl. She finished her coffee, dropped a handful of change beside the empty cup, then left the cafe at a leisurely walk. She looked around, trying to decide where to go first. She saw the people staring before she saw what they were staring at. She followed their gazes and spotted what had attracted so much attention. A ridiculously large figure, dressed in a trench coat, wearing a wide brimmed hat. Was it some kind stunt, she wondered? Her mind on how unbelievable the figure was it took her a moment to realize it was heading towards her. She turned, looked both ways, then dashed across the street as soon as there was an opening. Having a road between her and the strange giant in black made her feel a bit better. The sound of tires screeching and horns honking made her turn. The large figure had stepped onto the road, and even as she watched, one of the cars slammed into him with a metal crunching sound. Knocked forward the figure flew through the air for a few feet and then hit the ground, loosing its hat in the process. Kristine’s mouth was open in shock. Then the figure got to its feet. Without the hat an inhuman face was visible, looking more like the rough bark of a tree, with small, glowing green eyes and a simple black slash across the lower part for a mouth. It got to its feet and, ignoring the car, continued forward. Right at Kristine. When she realized it was coming right at her she turned to run. However, with impossibly long arms it reached out and grabbed her. “Where is she?” The thing screamed at her, drawing her close. Kristine stared at it, fear wide eyes showing white all around. “Where is she?” The words were punctuated with a shake that made muscles hurt. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Kristine almost babbled. It slammed her against the pole of a street light. Kristine was sure bones had broken. “Come out and fight me!” it screamed, then hurled Kristine through a shop window. She was certain something snapped when she hit the glass, then the glass shattered and cut her as she went crashing into a clothing shop. I am going to die. The thought was clear. “Things don’t look good for you.” Kristine shifted her gaze, towards the voice. Tac, as a cat, sat nearby. “What…” “Some monster is going to kill you, sad,” Tac told her. “Help…” “I’d love to, but I am a lover not a fighter. But you could be a fighter. Want to become a Magical Girl? Better than dying.” There was the sound of glass being crushed, something breaking. That thing was coming after her. She knew this was wrong, but there was too much pain, and her head was ringing. She could hardly think. But she did not want to die. “Okay,” she said, giving up. The cat’s eyes glowed. “Say the words,” it said to her. The words? What words? Then she knew. The words that would seal the covenant. By the Power of Innocence I am Nursery Knight Kristine. Those where the words. Those were what she said. She was almost certain what she heard was, ‘By the Powa of Innothenthe, I’m Nurthwy Knigth Kwithy’. However at the moment what she heard was not as important as what was happening. The pain faded, the cuts closed up and bruises disappeared. Her clothing changed, though she could not see, and it felt weird. Something was happening to her hair, like someone was combing it and styling it. As she stood she felt something weigh her hand down and looked to see she was holding some odd looking, giant plasticy mace. It looked like… “You!” She turned towards the monster. “You are the magical girl!” “I guethh I am,” she said, and wondered again at what she heard. The monster charged her. Without thinking she swung the mace out to crash into the monster. The blow lifted it from its feet and hurled it out the window. Wow! She was strong. “You better finish it off before anyone gets hurt,” Tac said. Kristine did not want to finish anything off, but if she did not then it might very well hurt others. And it might come after her again. So she went out, leaping through the smashed window, onto the street. The monster was getting up from where it had landed, in the middle of the street. “I am the late Empress Rose’s General Hemlock and I dedicate your death to her memory and honour!” it screamed. Words again flashed though her mind, “Innothent Wattle Thaker!” Leaping forward she swung the mace around, bringing it down on the monster’s head. The force of the blow drove it to its knees, and the asphalt under it cracked. Its head was twisted over to the side. “Ah, still too weak,” it said saddly. “Finish me Mag…” Kristine hit it again, hard as she could. It did not move. Stepping back she thought she should be breathing heavily, thought her heart should be beating like a drum, but neither of those things were true. She felt perfectly fine. Perfectly calm. “Good job,” Tac said from where she had leapt up onto the broken windowsill. Kristine tuned towards the cat. She noticed people around her had lifted their phones, were taking pictures or videos. They seemed amused. “Don’t worry,” Tac said, “no one can get a good picture of you.” A few people started laughing, laughing at her. She moved, fast, faster than anyone might expect. She was not even sure how she did it, she jut did. A man stumbled back from her, but she took his phone from him before he could stop her. He did not seem to think things were so funny. She turned it around and looked at the picture. The face was blurry, and there was something indistinct about the picture. Likely what Tac had meant when he said no one could get a good picture of her. But she could see enough to know why people were laughing. The girl in the picture was dressed in a ridiculous baby blue, child’s party dress, with puffy skirt and puffed sleeves and a big bow in the back. And the puffy skirt was short enough to make it obvious that the girl was wearing a diaper. Carrying a comically huge rattle (her mace) with a pacifier clipped to the dress, hanging off a white ribbon. Oh, and her hair was done up in pig tails. “Cat, what the hell ith thith!?” “Magical Girl Nursery Knight Kristie,” the cat said. “What do you think a Nursery Knight would wear?” Kristine looked around. People were watching her, still taking pictures. She hated it, hated that they were looking at her like some kind of joke. Without thinking about it she snapped up the pacifier and put it in her mouth. I just want this to all go away, she thought. It did not, but the people looked surprised. They lowered the phones they had been using to take her picture, looked around in confusion. “The pacifier makes you invisible, and probably soothes you as well,” Tac said, walking towards her. “No, don’t take it out of your mouth, not if you don’t want everyone staring at you. Why don’t you give the nice man back his phone and then we’ll take a walk.” Kristine nodded and slid the phone into the man’s pocket, as quick as she had taken it from him. He made a sound of surprise, looking around. “Come on,” Tac said. Kristine followed, pacifier in her mouth, waddling slightly because of the bulk between her legs. It was humiliating. At least no one could see her. And no one would be able to identify her from the pictures. The cat led the way down the street and into an alley. She jumped up on a dumpster and turned to give her a look over. “Very nice,” Tac said after a few seconds. “Extraordinarily cute. Just what I would expect of a Nursery Knight.” Kristine wanted to take the pacifier from her mouth and swear a blue streak at the cat, but did not want to risk becoming visible again. She shifted from foot to foot in agitation. “Well, let’s start your lessons. So, you have a mace, solid weapon, looks like a Silver 7 special version, so you can teleport.” “Tewepot?” she mumbled around the pacifier. “Right. Let’s start simple. Turn around, see that big building there? Look up at the edge of the roof, and just kind of will yourself there.” She turned, looked as she had been told. She felt Tac’s weight land on her shoulder. Well, it was magic. She focused on the edge and pictured herself appearing there. There was a momentary sensation of vertigo, and she felt as if she had just gone over the first drop of a rollercoaster. Then she realized she was standing on the edge of the roof, about twenty stories up. “Am’zing,” she said, the pacifier coming out of her mouth, dropping down to fall the length of the ribbon. She stepped forward, fully onto the roof. Tac jumped from her shoulder. “Excellent for a first try. With enough practice you’ll be able to go anywhere.” Momentarily stunned by the wonder of it all she nodded, and then shook her head in denial. “I am dwethed like a fucking toddwer.” “Yes,” Tac said with a nod. “You are. Very cute too, thought the swearing ruins the effect really.” “I don’t care that thwearing… No. Not going to be thidetwacked. Magical girlth are thupposed to look like thripper cheerleaderth, or hooker waitretheth, or bondage nunth, or naughty thchool girlth. They’re not thuppothed to look like toddwerth.” “Well one,” Tac said, “not all magical girls are short skirted stripper types, it’s rude to group them all like that.” “I don’t care.” “And second, you are a Nursery Knight. Nursery Knights were all girls five and under who fought the Nightmare King. What would you expect them to be dressed like?” There was a lot in that and Kristine had a great deal of difficulty processing it, but she said, “I am in diapeeth!” “Well, who knew if girls that age would be fully potty trained? Better to have them in diapers, just in case.” “Thith ith inthane.” The cat nodded. “Yes, somewhat. The entire Nursery Knight thing was ill conceived if you ask me. A pet project of some middle management type. But here we are, you dressed as a toddler and wearing a diaper and me having to teach you to be a Magical Girl. Best we get on with this and then put it all behind us, right?” Kristine started at the cat for several second, gripping the huge, rattle/mace tight. She wondered if that cat would make a squeaking sound were she to hit it. “You thet me up,” she said after a second. “That is a serious accusation, and seeing as you killed the only possible witness, not one that you can prove.” Kristine found herself making a growling sound. “You’d have to prove it, right,” the cat said with a smile (a good trick). “If you could be certain you’d try to pound me into kitty pate paste, but you can’t, so you won’t.” She loosened her grip on the mace. “I learn what you teach. You go away and I never have to twanthform again?” “You learn what I have to teach, I go away, and if you chose to never transform again that is your business, but you keep the benefits of longevity, durability and the ridiculous heath of those touched by this magic. A pretty good deal, don’t you think?” “Just thtart the lessonth cat. Thooner we finithh the thooner I can get back to my life.” “Okay, very well.” The cat turned into a woman. “Let’s start with banishing and summoning your weapon, Magical Girl 101.” She sighed. “All right, what do I do?” “Just focus on your weapon and imaging it being somewhere else, a closet or a room, or under a tree you know well.” Kristine took a deep breath. She imagined the mace as being in the closet in her old dorm room. The weapon was gone. “Oh.” “Good job.” “Did it weally go where I ‘magined it?” “No,” Tac said, shaking her head. “It was just important you pictured it being somewhere else. Now for summoning, just imagine yourself reaching out and grabbing it.” Kristine could not help but being a little excited by this. While she truly had no desire to be a Magical Girl, there had been a time, when she was younger, when she had fantasized about that very thing. And now she was doing magic. Reaching out with her hand she closed her fingers around the empty air. The mace appeared in her hand, as if she had just grabbed it. “I did it.” “You are picking this up fast. I’d say you’re a natural.” Tac’s voice and tone cut through the euphoria of magic, reminding Kristine that she had not wanted this, had been forced into it. Completely soured the experience. Tac, seemingly unaware of the change in atmosphere said, “Okay, let’s practice something a little more advanced.” “What?” Kristine hoped it was some offensive magic that would let her smash the grin off of Tac’s face. “Teleportation to a place you cannot see,” Tac announced. Kristine nodded. She could see the value in that. “Okay, picture your apartment, see it in your mind. Close your eyes if it helps.” Kristine closed her eyes, thought about her apartment. She could see it in her mind. She felt something land on her shoulder. Assumed that Tac was a cat again. Right in her ear Tac said, “Once you can see it, just imagine yourself there.” She felt that sense of vertigo, of the roller coaster drop again, and then, when she opened her eyes, she was in her apartment, standing on her coffee table. “Good job,” Tac said, jumping down from her shoulder. Kristine stepped down from the table. Again, there was that feeling of amazement. She had to keep herself from shouting, ‘This is Magic.’ “What next,” she asked, as if teleporting was something that had already become old hat. “Well,” Tac the cat said, turning to look at her, “how about you change back?” “Finally. What do I have to do? Thout out thomething?” “Not for turning back. Just picture yourself untransformed.” “There ith a lot of vithualithation to this magic.” “It was made so non magic types could master it easily. Very point and click, of you get my meaning.” Kristine thought she should be insulted, but she closed her eyes and pictured herself back to normal. Seeing in her mind the young, twenty something woman in jeans and a blouse. The thickness between her legs disappeared, the sense of bare skin and fluffy petticoats, of hair pulled back into pig tails, all faded. So much better. Than her jeans slipped down to her ankles, and her panties to her knees. “What the hell?” she said, eyes open, looking down. Her legs were skinnier than she recalled, smoother. “Well that was unexpected,” Tac said. She almost tripped on her pants as she ran for the washroom. Her panties were kicked off along the way. In the mirror she was looking at a familiar stranger. In the pictures she had seen the blurred out face and the ridiculous outfit had made it hard to notice. In the mirror was the child she had once been. She spun to stare at Tac, feeling the far too big bra shifting loosely on her. “What the hell?” “As I said, unexpected.” “What is this?” “Well, you were supposed to get this magic when you were three or four. You were about twenty five when you did get it. I suppose the magic split difference.” “Split the difference?” “Split the difference,” the cat said with a nod. Kristine screamed. She reached down and snatched up the cat. “My life is ruined,” she yelled into its cat face. “Your life is ruined? What about me?” “What about you?” “I love to have sex with the magical girls I guide, and was looking forward to conquering you, but you’re right out of my strike zone now. It is a really disappointment.” Kristine made a few strangled sound of outrage before hurling the cat across the room. As soon as she did it she felt terrible. She was not the sort of monster to hurt an animal. Tac hit the far wall with a thump, slid down to the floor. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she said, stepping hesitantly across the floor, afraid of what she would see. The cat bobbed up, leaping on the back of the couch. “I’m fine, take more than that to hurt me.” She dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry, that was terrible. I mean, you’re a jerk, but you did not deserve that.” Her earlier anger had all drained away leaving her exhausted. “I’m not a jerk. I am quite nice.” “Nice?” “Don’t shoot the messenger. The Nursery Knights was not my idea, and I certainly did not come up with the uniform.” She dropped her head forward. “This is a mess. My life is ruined. I don’t even have an identity anymore.” “Sure you do.” She shook her head, not looking up. “I don’t. I look like the little sister I never had. Kristine St. James might as well be dead.” “Okay, first, the identity stuff can be taken care of.” Kristine looked up. “And second, you’re pissing yourself.” She looked down. There was a puddle of urine under her. “What the hell?” she looked up helplessly at the cat. Tac seemed to shrug her shoulders. “I guess someone thought the Nursery Knights should be using those diapers.” “Fuck,” Kristine yelled, jumping to her feet, the socks on her feet absorbing some of the urine. The tails of her blouse were wet. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Am I going to be pissing myself all the time now?” She paused, eyes widening. “Am I going to shit myself?” Tac’s cat shoulders gave a shrug again. “Hell if I know. Maybe?” “Oh god.” Her knees went weak and she almost fell onto the floor. “Okay, there is something we can do,” Tac said, jumping down from the back of the couch onto couch itself. “Really?” she felt her hopes soar. “Not that you won’t be wetting yourself, but we can manage it.” Her hopes plummeted. “Hey, buck up. Now, first thing lets summon your Magic Bag.” “Magic Bag?” She was still standing in her own pee, the inside of her thighs damp, but if there was something she could do… “All Magical Girls can summon their Magic Bag, it holds various things they need. And summoning it is a good lesson.” She stepped out of the puddle, shucking off her loose socks. If there was something in this Magic Bag that could help then she would summon it. “How do I do it?” “Just like you called your weapon back to you,” Tac said. Visualize it and then picture yourself having it. Kristine nodded. She pictured a bag. She reached out for it. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. “It’s not working,” she said, blushing when she heard how winey her tone sounded, so close to tears. “You’re picturing the bag in your mind?” “Yes,” Kristine said with a nod. “What does the bag look like?” “Pardon?” “What kind of bag are you picturing?” Tac asked. Kristine looked over towards the apartment’s front door. “Like the messenger bag I use for work.” “Do you think a Nursery Knight would have a bag like that?” Kristine thought about it. “I don’t know?” “Well, they wouldn’t. Think of a colour that matches your uniform. Add some frills to it.” Kristine nodded, closed her eyes. She pictured the messenger bag, but in pastel colours, with a little bit of frill. She reached out, closed her hand on it. She felt something heavy settle in her grip. She opened her eyes. In her hand was the padded strap of a large bag, baby blue, quilted, big pockets on the outside, a kitty face appliqué on it. “This,” she paused, “is a diaper bag.” “Which is exactly the kind of bag a Nursery Knight would have.” Kristine held it at arms length like it was a dead rat. “You have to open it,” Tac said, as if she were a little slow. Having a cat cast aspersions on her intelligence was a new low in a day of lows. Sighing loudly she put the bag on the floor, avoiding the puddle, and bent down to open it. It was filled with disposable diapers and training panties, powders and creams, a folded, quilted changing pad, plastic and rubber panties, wipes, bottles, a sippy cup, jars of baby food nested in a collection of bibs and a teddy bear with a light blue ribbon around its neck and a few more things she could see but did not bother to try to identify. She made a grunt of derision. “There is a lot of things in there,” Tac said, jumping close and looking into the bag. “Grab a pair of training panties and put them off to the side. Kristine did, pulling a pair of the thick panties from the bag, there was a soft crinkling sound of the plastic under the faux material covering. “The bag will always have supplies in it, no matter how much you take from it, so at least you won’t have to buy diapers and stuff. That’s good, right?” She stared at the cat. The hand holding the training panty tightening into a first, making the plastic rustle and the padding squeak. “Tough crowd.” She threw the training panties onto the coffee table. “Okay, so I got a pair of training panties for the next time,” he face grew warm, “I piss myself, is that it?” She could not believe she had just said. “Of course not. This is magic. Pick up the teddy bear and say, ‘I need your help Mr. Bear.’” Kristine looked at the bear, frowned, then reached in and took it from the bag. It had the solid feeling of a well made thing, with incredibly soft fur. If she was the kind of woman who liked teddy bears she was pretty certain she would like this one. “I need your help Mr. Bear.” Nothing happened. She looked at Tac. The cat gave her another of those pitying looks that suggested she was slow. “Is that how a Nursery Knight would talk?” It took her a few seconds to get what Tac means. She blushed. “I need your help Mithter Bear.” The bear twisted out of her hands, landed on the floor close by and then, with a pop of displaced air, became a stuffed bear, probably a little over six feet tall. Kristine made an expression of surprise and fell backwards onto her bottom. The bear looked around, glittering eyes pausing on the puddle of urine, and then on Kristine. “What is this cat?” “It is your Mr. Bear.” “My…” she started, but suddenly Mr. Bear had stepped close, grabbed her (somehow with those stuffed bear paws) and lifted her to her feet. With a blur of motion it had her blouse of, leaving her only in her ill fitting bra. “What the…” The bear tossed the blouse and bra into her laundry hamper (she swore she saw it look at the laundry label first) then had a t-shirt from her dresser and was back by Kristine’s side before she finished her thought. With an upsweep of its fluffy arms its lifted Kristine’s arms above her head, and with a down sweep had the t-shirt on her. “…hell….” Mr. Bear put a giant paw across her mouth. Kristine got the idea that it did not approve of such language. Then it was blurring off again, to the bathroom, coming back with a towel and some cleaning supplies. In a moment the urine puddle was cleaned up. She had to admit that was helpful. “So what, it cleans up messes?” she asked Tac. “Among other things.” “Among what…” Again she was kept from finishing her sentence as Mr. Bear scooped her up, put her on the couch, and reached into he diaper bag for one of the very thick diapers. “How do I stop this?” Kristen asked as the bear secured her ankles and lifted her bottom off the couch. “Say ‘Thank you Mr. Bear, I love you.’” “Tank you Mithter Bear, I wuv you,” she said, not having to be told to lisp. With another pop of displaced air the bear returned to its original size and then it and the diaper fell neatly back into the diaper bag. Kristine scrambled off the couch, closed the bag, and without being told how, sent the bag away. With a sigh she collapsed bonelessly to her knees. “What the hell?” “Your Mr. Bear is your caretaker,” Tac said as she jumped back onto the couch. “Remember, the Nursery Knights were all to be pre-schoolers. They would need help. Mr Bear would clean up their messes, change them, feed them, comfort them and if they were bad punish them.” “Bad? Punish them?” “They were little girls given a stupid amount of offensive magical power. It was a pretty certain thing they would abuse that power. So, Mr. Bear would deal with that.” “Great, I’m a twenty five year old woman who looks like an eleven year old girl with a magical teddy bear that will treat me like I am two… that is the shape of things, right?” “More or less. Oh, Mr. Bear can show up on its own.” She stared at the cat. “What?” “Well, you couldn’t trust a little girl to know when she needed help.” “So you’re saying I could just be walking along and suddenly a six foot tall teddy bear will show up and… what, change me?” “Or give you a bottle, or put you down for a nap, or spank you if you are naughty.” “Fu… Now I’m afraid to swear.” “Swearing is a bad habit. Mr. Bear will help you deal with other bad habits, if you have any.” “Just drinking to excess and bathroom sex,” she muttered. “Those are great bad habits to have,” Tac told her, “if you did not look like a child. I would suggest you avoid them as I am pretty sure Mr. Bear would intervene.” “You think?” “Your lucky sarcasm is not naughty.” Kristine looked over at the training panty on the coffee table. She grabbed it, stood up, and pulled it on. It slid up her legs and over her bottom, the padding nestling up to her groin, feeling impossible soft, obvious in its thickness. She placed her hands on it, noting it fit perfectly. Angrily she pulled down on the bottom of her t-shirt to make sure it was hidden. “Okay, now I don’t have to worry about making a mess.” She tried not to sound embarrassed but the warmth in her cheeks told her that her body had betrayed her. “Now let’s hear about how I get my life back.” “Last time I was around here the internet was starting to take off. You still have that?” “Yes.” She wondered when the last time Tac had been in the mortal world. “Alright. So you can find stuff on that. You’ll want to search for government support of magical issues.” Kristine went and got her phone and took a seat on her couch. “Where’s your computer? What are you doing with that?” “This is my phone, and it can do everything a computer can.” “Really,” the cat moved in close to look. “Well I’ll be darned. You manage to do pretty well without magic.” “We try,” Kristine said in a snarky tone as she searched for what she had been told. It did not take her long to find a government site and a phone number for magical issues. She got a robot that asked her to state what she was calling about. “I became a magical girl and now I don’t look like myself.” There was a pause and then the system said, “It sounds like you have undergone some kind of transformation. Is this true?” “Yes.” A few more questions which she answered. Then it asked if she had a facilitator. “Do I have a facilitator?” she asked Tac. “That’s me,” the cat told her. “Yes,” she told the robot. “Please give your facilitator’s code,” the robot asked. “Code?” she looked at Tac. Tac gave her a series of numbers and letters. She spoke them back into her phone. “Just a moment,” the robot said, and there was a click. Then a real person said, “Magical Issue Support, you have undergone a transformation?” “Yes, I have. I became a magical girl and after I transformed back I looked totally different.” “I understand,” the woman said, as if she heard such calls all the time. “Can you tell me where you live?” Kristine did. The woman gave her an address, asked if she could make it there. Kristine checked and then said, “Yes, in about an hour I guess.” “Please go to that address, bring all the identification you have. Someone will be there. Ask for Mr. Green.” “Mr. Green, I understand.” She was given a case code, told to quote it if she had to call back, then the woman hung up. “That was not too bad for a government agency,” she said, hanging up. “The magical realm makes sure there is good support available.” She put her phone aside and got up, realizing she needed something to wear. It did not take her long to realize there was nothing that would fit her. She found a pair of shorts, used a belt to cinch them up tight around her skinny waist. A pair of sandals, the straps pulled as tight as she could get them, gave her something for her feet. Then she gathered up her various ID cars, credit cards, bank cards, her passport and everything else she had that identified her. Tac watched her but said nothing. She had everything she needed. “Are you coming with me?” she asked the cat. She was a little nervous about some magic related government agency and though she was not going to say that she hoped Tac might take the hint. “Sure.” She left her apartment, Tac riding on her shoulder.
  9. A Too Late Magical Girl

    Loose papers, file folders, thick books and numerous legal pads were scattered across the boardroom table. At the head of the table an older man leaned on the polished oak, looking down at a small pile of documents in front of him. He reached down and flipped open one of the file folders, pulled a post it note from where it had been stuck. Not looking up he said, “Miss St. James.” “Yes Mr. Cotton?” He looked up then, grey eyes seeking out the young woman. “Go down to the library, I need you to check all the cases from 1986.” Kristine St. James nodded at the tall Oscar Cotton. “Yes sir. What do you want me to find?” He looked at the post it note again and then said, “You’ll know it when you find it.” Several of the other people in the room, all young men and women, rolled their eyes, and one dark haired man gave her a sympathetic look. However Kristine simply said, “Yes sir.” Oscar nodded and then began to shift through the documents in front of him. By the door was a polished aluminium coat rack on which hung a number of expensive suit jackets, mostly blue and black. Kristine took a jacket of dark red, worsted wool and slipped it over a white blouse, open at the collar. Before leaving she grabbed a messenger bag, heavy with the laptop within. Beyond the board room was a large, open office space, the perimeter made up of other such boardrooms and offices for the lawyers. She paused, looked around, promised herself she would have one of those offices in two years. As she walked to the elevators the two inch heels of her pumps clicked on the offices hardwood floor. Hardwood floors were just one of those things that the law firm of Cotton and Black used to set itself apart from the others. The elevator took her down to the lobby, and she crossed the tiled floors, towards the stairs. She was a young woman, looked more or less her twenty five years, average across the board, maybe a little pretty. No one gave her any more attention than anyone else. She walked down two flights of stairs, into the sub basement. Cotton and Black had space down there, for storage and the library. Her security key got her into the room. She reached out and flipped on the lights. The fluorescents came on with a quiet but pervasive ‘hum’ and a barely perceptible flicker. “Too bad the clients don’t come down here,” she said, walking over to one of the scarred wooden tables and placing her bag on it. The cases for 1986 occupied their own shelf. Books of past cases and the legal precedents set in them. She pulled several down, carried the heavy armful back to the table, placed them down on one end. From her bag she brought out a beat up, old laptop, and several pads of legal paper. “Okay, let’s go fishing,” she said, and then pulled a book towards her, sat down, and flipped it open. Time passed. She ran numerous searched on her laptop, filled almost an entire pad with notes and photocopied almost one hundred pages. Feeling she had found everything she (and oscar) wanted Kristine put the books back in place and then left the library, snapping off the lights behind her. She had been there for almost four hours, and it was a little after seven in the evening. The offices of Cotton and Black were not empty, but most everyone had gone home. Kristine might have gone home herself, but she really wanted to get things finished up. She sat at her cubicle, a far cry from the office she wanted, logged into the desktop computer and then began to write up the document. It was almost ten when she finally finished writing everything up. All the precedents neatly organized, from the ones that had the most relevance to the case to the ones that had the least. There were a few good ones there, but nothing that she would have considered a home-run in the case. She could only hope she got what Oscar Cotton had wanted. While the computer logged off she stretched in her chair, arms above her head. Flopping bonelessly she slumped in her chair, eyes closed. So simple to just fall asleep in the chair. She’s feel like hell tomorrow. Standing she took her jacket from the back of the chair, then slipped her arms into it, pulling it straight. Grabbing her messenger bag up she walked through the nearly empty office, towards the elevators. She almost ran into someone coming out of one of the other offices. “Oh, sorry,” Kristine said, jumping back. The other woman started, took a step back, then shook her head. “No problem. Here late?” “Yes Mrs. Kirk.” Linda Kirk looked at Kristine for a few seconds. “You’re working with Oscar.” “Yes Mrs. Kirk.” “St. Just?” “St. James.” “Sorry.” Kristine smiled. “No problem.” Linda nodded and started towards the elevators. She walked slow and Kristine took that as an invitation to fall in beside her. Linda was a little taller than average, and her three inch heels made her stand taller than Kristine. She was a beautiful blonde, blue eyed woman, looking to be in her late thirties, but probably older than that. Married, as Kristine understood it. Not happily, according to office gossip. Kristine tried not to pay attention to such gossip. Linda was the kind of lawyer that Kristine wanted to be, minus the wedding. “You’ve been here for about six months,” Linda said. “Yes. Came in around June.” “Do you like it here?” She and Linda had arrived at the elevators and Linda reached out and pressed the call button. “I do,” Kristine said. “Are you hoping for a job?” Kristine knew what Linda meant. “Yes.” “Work hours like this and you’ll probably get it.” “Thank you.” “Don’t let it take over your life though.” “Pardon?” “You’re a young woman. I suspect some of the other people articling are out having some fun. God knows I did a few times.” “I’ll remember that, but,” she paused, “I like the job.” Linda looked down at her, not that their heights were that great in difference. “I suppose you do, but still…” The elevator ‘dinged’ and the doors opened. They both stepped in. Kristine reached out and pressed the button for the lobby. As the doors closed Linda said, “Just don’t burn yourself out.” “I won’t,” Kristine said. They ended up riding down in silence. Kristine looked at the muddy reflection in the dull silver doors. All she could really make out was her dark hair, brown, worn to her shoulders. Different from Linda’s long, blonde hair. “It was nice to speak with you,” Linda said as the elevator doors opened on the lobby, then walked out. “You too,” Linda said, following. Linda’s longer strides made it clear that their conversation was over. Still, she followed Linda across the lobby and out of the building. They went different ways a few steps later, with Linda stopping by the side of the road to hail a taxi while Kristine turned and walked down the block towards the subway entrance. When she reached the platform she took a moment to check her phone. There was a message from Daniel, the dark haired young man from earlier in the day. He and the others had gone out for drinks, wanted to know if she was going to come. She considered it for a moment but chose not to, sending him a text message telling him she’d go out drinking tomorrow night. Friday night. Tonight she’d get some sleep and be ready for a busy day tomorrow. In another place a busty woman with cat ears sat in a booth, several women with rabbit ears tight around her, hugging her, pouring her drinks, laughing with her, sharing kisses. The cat eared woman laughed loud and drank deep. “Another round,” she called out out. The rabbit eared women cheered. “Tac is so generous,” a bunny girl with ridiculously huge breasts said. “Of course I am my sweet little hare, the party never ends,” Tac said. She was well dressed, in a tuxedo cut to flatter her feminine curves, her black hair cut in a short bob that called attention to a long, feminine neck. The waiter came by with a new bottle. He coughed, as if uncomfortable. “You’ve run out of money ma’am.” Tac produced a card from her jacket and handed it to the waiter. “Of course, put another fortune for my tab, and twenty percent for tips across the board!” “Of course ma’am.” The rabbit girls squealed happily, fighting to throw their arms around Tac as the waiter nearly skipped off. “Oh, my life is good!” Tac crowed. A new glass of alcohol (a catnip whisky) had been poured and Tac was slipping her hands under the clothing of her table mate. “I’m a pussy that knows my stuff,” she told one of the rabbit girls as she slipped a hand between her legs. Someone coughed loudly. Tac looked over her shoulder. Behind her was an older woman, dressed in a severe but beautiful dress. Her lower body was that of a snake. “What is it mama-san?” Tac asked. “Do you have a new girl you want me to meet.” The woman smiled, though it did not touch her eyes. “I am afraid that your card has been denied.” She placed the card on the table. Tac straightened. “Impossible.” She reached for the card. “I am afraid it is true. Do you have other form of payment?” Tac looked at the card, then shook her head. “Only barbarians carry cash.” “Enjoy the bottle, it is your last. And girls.” “Awww, sorry Tac,” one of the girls said as she and the others slipped from the booth. Tac sighed and slipped the card into her jacket. “Share a glass with me Mama-san?” she asked, holding up the still mostly full bottle. “For old times sake,” she replied, slipping the upper part of her body into the booth, leaving her tail to the side. “To the good old days,” Tac said, lifting her glass after she had poured two full tumblers. “You have spent the good old days here,” the snake woman said as she tapped the rim of her glass against Tac’s. “You jest,” Tac said, and took a drink. “Why I have hardly been here…” she looked at her watch. “Wow! No wonder they cancelled my card.” “I wish you well,” the snake woman said, finishing the drink. “When you are rolling in money again, you are of course welcome.” “You’ve got a heart of gold Mama-san.” “If that was true I would have cut it out long ago.” That said she slithered off, leaving Tac alone. She poured herself one last drink, then corked the bottle. She had paid for it so she would take it with her. After knocking back the generous measure she got up and walked with the exaggerated and affected grace of one very drunk. Outside the bar it was day light. Bright daylight. Tac’s green cat eyes narrowed and she raised her free hand up to shade her face. “This sort of day is obscene,” Tac said. “There is only one obscene thing here and that is you.” Tac turned to the speaker. “Gorgeous,” she said, as if the word tasted like ashes. Not quite living up to her name, the rail thin Gorgeous with soft brown skin, kohl lined eyes and perked up Anubis ears seemed a pretty Egyptian princess. “You are an embarrassment,” Gorgeous said. “A sexy embarrassment, with cat class and cat style,” Tac smiled, taking her hand away from her brow to place it across her chest. Gorgeous’ lips twitched into scowl for a moment. “You’ve left your job undone.” “What? You yourself told me to take a couple of years break before starting up work again.” Voice expressing insult as eyes widened in surprise. “A couple of years! Two! Like a married couple. You’ve been in that bar for twenty-three!” “Your definition of marriage seems both heteronormative and supporting only monogamous pairings. In some cultures I am easily married to many of the women in that club,” she took her hand from her chest and made a gesture, pointing behind her with a thumb, “and our ‘couple’ is much larger than two.” “Really? That’s you answer. Twenty-three years in a club and all you can do is argue that you have a different definition of a word? You aren’t even going to act embarrassed that you have bene spending a fortune of the organization’s money on a party?” “So it was you that got my card cancelled. That’s low even for you.” Tac took a few steps forward and stood nearly nose to nose with Gorgeous. “You owe me an apology.” Gorgeous seemed extremely off put by Tac’s attack, and stammered out, “But it was you…” She took a deep breath, threw her shoulders back and puffed out her chest. “If you want your card reactivated you had better do your job. There is a candidate that you have to take care of.” Tac shuffled a step back, realizing that she had lost the opportunity to claim the mortal high ground. “But it has been twenty-three years, surely that is too late. Maybe it is time I got shuffled into an office job?” “Oh? Now twenty-three years seems too long?” “Well, for the job. Candidate is probably dead right? Humans only live about fifteen years, right?” “You know that is not true!” Gorgeous snapped angrily, taking a step forward. Tac skipped back several steps. “But you got to admit, it is like too late. I mean, what adult would ever accept the deal?” Gorgeous smiled. Tac did not like that smile. “Well, that is your problem now. You want your account reactivated, you get your candidate to accept the contract. And until you do, you are persona-non-grata at the organization. And don’t expect to get any sort of reference from us if you just decide to quit and seek a new job.” “Well, shit,” Tac said. “Kristine, good work on that report,” Oscar Cotton said as he came into the board room. Kristine and the other people assigned to work with Oscar had come in earlier, had been working for about twenty minutes already. “Thank you Mr. Cotton. So I found the precedent you want?” “Not at all,” he told her, smiling. “But it was good work and it reminded me of what I was looking for.” He held up a law journal and then tossed it onto the table. “I want you to all go through the marked pages,” he told them, “give me your impressions. That is what we will be basing our defence on.” With a focus for their work Kristine and the others set down to get all of the details hammered out while Oscar put it all together in a cohesive whole. “Miss St. James,” Oscar said near the middle of the day, “would you like to join me in court on Monday?” “Me Mr. Cotton?” A moment of modesty, just not to seem too opportunistic. “Yes. I would appreciate it.” But it helped to seem a little opportunistic. “Very good. Okay, let’s dot our i’s and cross our t’s,” he told the rest of the team, smiling. Kristine knew there would be a little bad blood that she was going to assist Mr. Cotton at the trial, but she knew it would not last. She herself had nursed short lived grudges about the same thing. A little before six in the evening Oscar pronounced them ready. “Get some rest, have a little fun.” Dismissed they gathered up their things to head out. Daniel fell in beside her as they entered the elevator, Olivia Smoke on her other side. “Going to sit in the big seat,” Olivia teased. Dark hair, dark skinned, handsome, Olivia stood out in all the right ways. “Will you remember us little people?” Daniel asked her. “Just like you remembered us when Mrs. Kirk had you help you on the Rafter case?” “I did enjoy lording it over all you peons,” he said, striking an arrogant pose. Kristine and Olivia laughed. “You heard the boss,” Olivia said as she hooked an arm through Kristine’s. “Let’s go and have some fun.” Daniel put a hand on Kristine’s shoulder. “You did promise me to go out drinking tonight.” Kristine laughed as the three of them strode out of the elevator as it opened on the lobby doors. “Then let’s enjoy a night of debauchery.” Close by were a number of upperclass bars, very expensive. They stopped in one for a few drinks, letting themselves enjoy the finer things. “For practice when we are all big shot lawyers,” Kristine said. However money did not go far there, and they piled into the subway, heading downtown to less genteel but much cheaper options. They drank heavily, in celebration, for another week done. Daniel handled his booze better than the other two, and watched over them, even when drunk, knocking over glasses that had been left unattended and sending them to get fresh drinks, staying close to them so they were not bothered too much. Kristine liked him. She liked Olivia more. The two of them, she and Olivia, ended up in a stall in the woman’s bathroom, their hands in each other’s panties. Near last call Daniel saw them both into taxi cabs. Sending them off to their homes. Kristine sobered up a little on the ride back to her apartment. She stretched lazily in the back seat and the taxi driver kept up a stream of what sounded like meaningless conversation. One thought dominated her thoughts. On Monday she would be in court. It was going to be a great opportunity to learn. The cab dropped her off at a nothing special high-rise, close to the university. Not a bad part of town, but loud students made it less desirable for older people and those with families. Kristine could just afford the small bachelors apartment she rented, with a little left over after food to enjoy a few nights out each week. She passed through the security door, and into the lobby. Took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. She walked stockinged foot along the faded, slightly ratty carpet with the blue and gold pattern, her heels in her hand. When she reached the door to her apartment a cat waited for her, sitting right in her way. “What’s up?” the cat asked. Kristine frowned. She was no where near drunk enough that she should be hallucinating. It was unlikely anyone had slipped her anything. Which meant she was facing a talking animal. “Get the hell out of here,” she told the cat, kicking at it. She did not think to connect, but the cat jumped away from the kick and from the door and Krinstine quickly unlocked it and slid inside. “Damn magic animals,” she said as she pushed the door closed and locked it. “That was hardly nice.” Kristine looked over her shoulder. That cat sat on the floor behind her. “Of course.” She turned and slid down the door, so she was sitting on the floor. “Don’t you have to be invited in?” “You are thinking of vampires.” She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. “What do you want?” “Become a Magical Girl.” “Fuck no!” She said, opening her eyes, straightening to her feet. The cat was gone. In its place was a beautiful woman in a tuxedo, cat ears upon her head. She understood, intellectually, that cat and woman were the same, but it surprised her none the less and she swayed on her feet. “Come on, don’t be like that?” The woman stepped closer. “I’m Tac. You’re Kristine. Introductions over.” She put a hand on Kristine’s bare hand. “Now become a Magical Girl.” Kristine shivered at the touch and pulled back. “No.” She pushed past Tac and into the centre of the small apartment, between the couch and the TV. “Every girl wants to be a Magical Girl,” Tac told her. “Exactly, every girl. No woman. I’m a woman.” “Don’t I know it,” Tac said with a smile that made Krstine feel as if she were naked. And realize that she might not mind it if she were naked. “Then why ask me? Find some actual girl.” “You’re my target. Sorry. Become a Magical Girl. You’ll be like a superhero. What’s so bad about that?” Kristine shook her head, then reached for the TV remote. With a beep the TV came on. She flipped through the channels until she found what she was looking for. “There. That’s a Magical Girl.” There was some kind of panel show on the TV. One of the guests was a young woman in an extravagant pink mini dress, pink hair done up in an impossible style. “Hey, that Magical Parfait, one of the Baker’s Dozen,” Tac said. “Been forever since I saw them. She’s looking well.” Kristine nodded. “I know who she is. She or some other pathetic once was are always on late night TV, being an embarrassment. That’s what happens to Magical Girls, now that there is nothing left to fight. Why would I become one of those people? It would be embarrassing, becoming a joke, hell I think my employment contract says I can’t become magical.” “You make a few good points, but I don’t really care. Let’s fuck and then you can become a magical girl.” Kristine almost said, ‘Yes to the first part, no to the second.’ Instead she said, “Get out or I am calling the cops.” Tac took a step back, holding up her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m going, but think about it.” Before Kristine could tell Tac that there was nothing that needed to be thought about, Tac was gone. “God damn magic,” Kristine muttered. Morning came. Kristine woke in her bed (a folding couch), looking up at her room’s ceiling. She wondered it a magical animal had really offered her the opportunity to become a magical girl. It seemed like something that should be a dream. But it did not feel like a dream. Well, she had refused it, and that was what mattered the most. She went about her morning routines, then chores. The small apartment made it easy to clean. She held up her suit from the previous night. Partying and bathroom sex had done a bit of a number on it. The suit and a few other things got folded into a bag, to be dropped off at the dry cleaners, other clothes got stuffed in a mesh laundry bag. She would take them down to the building’s laundry room later. Dressing in faded jeans and a smart, cream, peasant blouse, she took up her purse and the bag of clothing and headed out. Standing outside of her door, waiting for her, was the cat. She looked back and forth, to make sure she was alone, then said to the cat, “Go to hell.” “Come on. Become a Magical Girl.” “Go to hell,” she said again, enunciating each word. Then she turned and walked towards the elevators. “You get magic, you’ll be really strong and fast. You won’t ever get a cold again,” the cat told her, following at her heels. “There is not really a downside.” “What part of go to hell don’t you understand,” Kristine asked, looking down at the cat she walked. “Is it the ‘hell’ part? It can’t be the ‘go’ part.” “The part where you won’t become a Magical Girl.” Kristine stopped at the elevators, she jabbed the down button then turned and grabbed the cat, picking it up by its scruff. “Hey, hands off the fur.” Ignoring the outburst she lifted it up so it was hanging in front of her face, and they were eye to eye. “Get this kitty. I will never become a Magical Girl. Never, ever. If you keep bothering me I’ll find a magical violin maker and tell them there is some magical cat gut around here and they can come and get it.” “Oh real nice. How’d you like it if people were making things out of human organs?” “Don’t bother me again. The answer is and will always be no.” There was the sound of the elevator door opening. Kristine dropped the cat and stepped back into the, fortunately, empty elevator car. The cat did not follow her. Watching the doors closed Tac’s feline eyes narrowed. “If you want to play rough, I can play rough lady. Oh, I can play very rough.”
  10. Just a Picture

    New Picture
  11. Just a Picture

    Thank you very much. I am glad you enjoy it.
  12. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    I actually had no thoughts along those lines, but I am glad that people are reading more into the story, suggests to me that I had created something with enough depth to engender ideas like that. It is always possible if I decided to write anything else that I may consider how it all fits together at that higher level.
  13. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    Name thing was just a spelling goof on my part. It may have been rushed, did not feel that way to me, but it is not impossible.
  14. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    It may have been my ending was a little to brief. Yes, the idea was that Kelly had fallen for Marie, and Marie her, but being a spy type of person Marie was not immediately available to take care of Kelly and it took a while for her to catch up.
  15. Just a Picture

    Portrait of an artist, shortly before a spanking and a bath....