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InkuHime

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  1. This is a story set in Princess Pottypants Diaper Dimension It is a slow burn, character driven type of piece.... Chasing Emily by InkuHime Emily loved her apartment. She loved the old brickwork, and the wood, polished by age, with a patina that was nearly impossible to reproduce artificially. Then there was the view, which most people would probably find nothing to praise, but Emily liked it. Old factories and squat office buildings, widely spaced, all of it built nearly a hundred years prior, and largely abandoned for the last twenty years. The way the morning and setting sun caught all the old architecture, she could stare at it for hours, or at least until the sun climbed too high or set. She liked the people, or the fact that they minded their own business. And she really liked the fact that for whatever reason of reverse gentrification seemed to be at play that giants did not seem to want to live there. A few littles like her, but mostly inbetweeners, odd balls who did not quite fit into society. Artists mostly, a handful of people practicing nearly forgotten trades, like the blacksmith who lived down on the first floor, or the man who made handmade paper in the factory across the street. She was a little out of place as she practiced a highly technical trade. She was a programmer, a graphic designer, a little bit of a hacker (that she kept extra secret), all freelance. Someone rang her doorbell. She got up form her seat, slipping down onto the floor from a chair that would have been a good size for an inbetweener, and walked towards the door. She had a small flat screen monitor by the door displaying an image of the hallway. Standing in front of her apartment door was a young man, a tall inbetweener, a clerk at the organic market down the street. He carried two large bag in his arms. Pressing the intercom button she said, “Hey Ted, just leave them out there. I’ll get them in a couple of minutes.” “Sure thing Miss Black,” he said, then put the bags down and left. She waited until he had entered the rickety old elevator and the doors had closed before she opened her door and pulled both bags in. It was not that she thought that Ted was one of those that thought all littles needed to be taken care of, but the market he worked at was one of the few places that saw significant visitors from outside of the area. All she needed was him talking about the little who lived by herself. Say that to the right amazon and it was like waving a red flag in front of bull. Bad analogy she knew, as bulls were colour blind. Carefully she picked up each bag and carried each one at a time to her kitchen. The place had been scaled to the tall inbetweener, sort of a safe size as even an amazon could live there. As a little she made use of a lot of step stools, and put most things on lower shelves. Food unpacked she went back to her desk, did a little jump to get herself back on the chair. He feet did not quite reach the floor. She was on the smaller size for an adult little, only a little over four feet tall. Apparently she was also ‘cute as a button’, which was not a phrase she liked. Back in her chair she looked at the progress bar on her laptop. She was running a program of her own design, one that was converting an old banking program into a new web based one. It was a specialized area of work that took most programmers weeks to do. Her program did it in a few hours, and then she would take a few hours to look for large problems before sending it back to the client. Not that she would send it back immediately. She would wait several days. No need to let her clients know how fast she really was. They might start making unreasonable demands of her time. She lost herself for a while, looking out her window at the late afternoon scene, the low buildings stretching out in front of her, off into the distance. There was a ribbon of undeveloped land between her neighbourhood and the city proper, where skyscrapers began to thrust up into the air. Some of her clients worked in those towers, paying her ridiculous amounts of money so that she could live her private life, on her own terms. There were times she felt a little like a prisoner, but she was content. And she reminded herself she would feel more like a prisoner in a crib. Her computer chimed. The program finished. She went to work, losing track of time, the apartment darkening as the sun slipped below the horizon. Emily was actually a little surprised when she looked up and found she was sitting in a dark apartment. Yawning widely she slipped off her chair and began to turn on lights, stretching out as she did so, wincing at a few tiny pains. Maybe she could get one of those standing desks, she thought, walking into her kitchen. Busying herself with making her dinner, she made herself stop thinking about her work. Eventually dinner was made (she grilled up a steak, gently steamed some asparagus and broccoli) and then eaten. After cleaning up she took a bath then, dressed in a terrycloth robe (made by the seamstress who loved two floors down), took a seat out on her balcony, a cup of coffee in her hands. The neighbourhood became a little livelier at night. Two of the factories had been converted to clubs, and people who would not live there came to party. In the cooling night air she watched the expensive cars come in, park, saw the people get out. A lot of giants, seven and eight foot men and women, a few even taller, dressed for a night out, laughing as they walked beneath her, unaware of the little who looked down at them. She liked it. When Emily finished her coffee she left the balcony, put her cup in the dishwasher and then returned to her computer. Various emails had come in since she had last looked. Most of it was deleted, a few she read. There was one from Lyle Redmond, asking if she wanted to come and work for him. He made those offers at least once a month, and as always he asked if they could meet, or at least talk on the phone. Emily of course did not meet her clients, and she avoided the phone as her voice was high and apparently sweet. And Lyle Redmond—CEO of one of the largest entertainment companies in the country was nearly a ten foot tall giant who had already ‘adopted’ five little ‘girls’ like they were a fashion accessory—was not someone she wanted to meet. Nor did she want him to hear her high and ‘sweet’ voice and start getting ideas. As always it took a bit of work to craft a polite refusal. She had no wish to send anything that would insult Lyle, He gave her a lot of money and he could have negative consequences on her career if he took it into his mind to do so. That done she shut off her computer and went to her bedroom to watch TV, carefully avoiding any show with bright colours and simple but catchy music. There was not a lot one could do in the neighbourhood. The artisanal shops tended to deal in bulk orders and did not handle walk in clients well. The clubs opened later in the evening, and were full of people Emily did not want to deal with anyway. She liked to walk around the old buildings, down the wide streets, during the early morning or later day, when few people were around. There was however one bar, a real hole in the wall, a place called Sharky’s, with windows so dusty anyone who did not live there would not know it was open. Sharky, Emily did not think that was his real name, was an old, blind man, who carded Emily every time she came in. Why she did not know. He could not even read the card. Once that bit of ritual was over he would make her a gin and tonic, she would climb up (literally) onto the barstool, and he would go back to his newspaper. “Why…” “I like the smell of the ink,” he told her. “God, your like some kind of mind reader.” “I can just predict stupid questions,” he told her. Farther down the bar Gus laughed. She turned to him and raised her glass in a salute. He returned the gesture with his beer mug. Gus was the blacksmith who lived and worked on the first floor of her building. He was about six feet tall, and Emily would swear nearly as board in the shoulders. He worked part time as a bouncer, able to handle even the giants who made trouble. She supposed if he spent his day forcing steel to his will putting a drunken amazon in her place would not be too hard. “Sharky, give me a beer and a whisky chaser,” Candy said as she took a seat beside Emily. Candy was a mechanic, five and a half feet tall of grease monkey and attitude, with short black hair and oil in her blood. “Hey ya Emily.” “Afternoon Candy. Calling if early?” “Parts have to come in from the coast. Until they come in the car no go.” She nodded to Sharky (not that he could see it) as he put the beer down in front of her. “Client is gong to bitch about it.” “They always do,” Emily said. “Amen to that sister.” She lifted her glass. Emily lifted her glass and tapped it against Candy’s mug. A musical chime filled the bar. “Don’t chip my glasses,” Sharky told them as he put Candy’s shot down. Candy smiled at Emily then took a pull of her beer. She put her beer on the bar and reached out, gently touching Emily’ short blonde hair. “You should grow this longer.” Emily made rude noise. “Long hair takes forever to take care of.” Candy ran her hand through her short hair. “That’s waste. Oh, Linda’s got this green fabric, make a great summer dress and go perfect with those baby blues of yours.” Emily made another rude noise. “Don’t like summer dresses?” “For me a summer dress is a skirt hike from being a toddler’s dress.” Sharky laughed. “Fair point. Make a nice, long skirt. Wear it with a white blouse. Look better than jeans and t-shirt.” “Maybe. Sometimes it is dangerous to look too mature.” “Not this again.” Candy sighed, then took a deep drink of her beer. “I’ll admit some littles end up being treated like children, but that is only the ones who can’t really take care of themselves.” Emily was about to argue that, but instead she took a drink of her gin and tonic. She had gone to college and had been friends with three other littles. They had worked hard, putting up with RAs who were more like nannies, night time diapers, pull ups, an almost complete lack of privacy; all because some littles ‘needed’ that level of care. The four of them had been in the top ten percent of their graduating class; Emily herself had been at the top. And four years later the other three were, last Emily had heard, in nurseries, spending their days in wet and messy diapers. “I’ll ask Linda about the cloth, have something nice made,” she said to Candy. “Good,” Candy said, smiling.
  2. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    Let me say right off I don't really have any plans to write anymore about Emily and Chase at this time. That might change, but at this point in time I personally can't see any story that I feel needs to be told. So this is just idle speculation and should in no way be taken as any sort of canonical statements by an author who is planning something. If I had not been writing in the Diaper Dimension than the ending would have likely been different, but I felt I should respect the narrative weight of setting and that when a Giant and a Little are in conflict, the Little ends up in diapers. I still think that ultimately Emily will leave Chase (escape). When she realizes that she can never have a relationship of the type shown in 'Games of Skills, Games of Chance'. And 'Working on the Underground Railway' certainly indicates how it might happen. But I am not sure there is a very interesting story in that escape.
  3. 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.”
  4. 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
  5. A Too Late Magical Girl

    Glad people enjoyed this.
  6. 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.
  7. Just a Picture

    Just a sketch with the flat colours. May post the updated version with shading and highlights at a later date.
  8. Just a Picture

    Yes, that is what I was thinking when I drew the picture.
  9. 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.
  10. 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.
  11. 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.
  12. 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.
  13. Just a Picture

    New Picture
  14. Just a Picture

    Thank you very much. I am glad you enjoy it.
  15. 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.
  16. 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.
  17. 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.
  18. Just a Picture

    Portrait of an artist, shortly before a spanking and a bath....
  19. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    Kelly Fortuna started receiving invitations to play in big buy in games, mostly in Vegas, but several also other cities as well. Her winnings from the ‘Cartes D'or Triomphantes’ allowed her to afford the buy in, and the skills she had learned let her win. Consistently. She still played smart. Still had Ken make side bets that would guarantee, even if she were to lose, she would keep her stake and make some profit on top of that. But she did not lose. She could easily stake herself at next years Cartes D'or Triomphantes. All she had to do was ask for an invitation. She was gaining some fame, and with that fame came more interest from giants. However with Ken around any giant who seemed too interested could be chased off. Though Kelly had been worried he was going to actually have to punch one Yvonne Tanson, an old amazon who seemed certain she was going take Kelly away with her. She still recalled the look of affront and perhaps a little fear as Ken had told her, ‘Yous best be leaving my Kelly Girl alone, unless you wants me to knocks you down and put you overs my knee fors a spanking.’ Most giants seemed to accept that the intimidating inbetweener was her daddy, or close enough, that they stopped bothering her quite so much. She leaned back slightly on her booster seat, staring at the large pile of chips in front of her. She suspected she was about to win another of these tournaments. They were on a break, while the dealer prepared a new deck. Kelly looked towards her opponents, all giants, all seeming a little off put by the little in their midst. She had yet to meet anyone as bad as Lyle Redmond when it came to discounting her, but there were always ones similar. Really, she sighed, it was getting boring. “You do not look like you are having fun my petit Jean d’Arc.” Spinning in her booster seat so fast she almost fell from it Kelly turned to face Marie. The amazon was dressed in a white, tight evening gown, with a slit up the side that allowed her to easily kneel. “Ma… Miss Frontè. What… Why…” “I am happy to see you too Kelly. You are looking well.” “But what happened. What about Con…” Marie put a finger across Kelly’s lips. “Hush,” she said with a smile. “Heys, whats do yous think you are doings?” Ken had stepped away from the spectator seats, ready to defend Kelly. Kelly turned towards him. “It’s okay Ken, she’s a friend. I want to see her.” Ken stopped, then nodded. “Right Kelly girl.” He went back to his seat. “Kelly girl?” Marie asked. “It’s what people called me.” “Seems a little redundant to me. What else could Kelly be but a most wonderful girl?” Kelly suspected she was grinning like an idiot and blushing at the same time. “As I said, you are looking well Kelly, though your outfit…” Kelly looked down at herself. She was wearing a Chinese style dress, red with gold trim. “Is there something wrong with it? I thought it looked nice.” “Oh, it looks wonderful. You are quite fetching in it, but it is not comme il faut.” “I didn’t think that mattered.” Marie laughed. “That is because you do not have French sensibilities on fashion, but I think that is something you can achieve, with some work.” “Oh. What…” “But to come back to my original point, why do you look like you are not having fun.” “But I am having fun.” “Really? That glum face I just saw is the face of Kelly Fortuna having fun?” Kelly did not answer. “I had heard that Kelly Fortuna was always smiling, she could lose with a laugh. That she would chase rainbows, that is the correct term, oui?” “Yes, Kelly girl who chased rainbows.” “I thought that Kelly sounded quite pretty. I of course understood that at the Cartes D'or Triomphantes where she was not playing for her own enjoyment that she could not treat the game as such, but afterwards, I was certain that that pretty Kelly would show up. And I finally come to see her and what do I find? This is not my Kelly I think.” Kelly frowned. “It’s just, like the song said, if you chase rainbows you’ll get wet.” “I am sure that is true, but Kelly,” she leaned in close, “if you get wet, don’t you think I will dry you?” Kelly stared wide eyed at Marie. Marie smiled, reached out and ruffled Kelly’s hair. She stood. “Chase your rainbows Kelly. I want to see my petit Jean d’Arc smile and laugh.” Then she walked away. Kelly might have gone after her but the new deck was ready and the other players were taking their seats. When her fourth card was dealt out to her Kelly looked at it, considered her hole cards, and saw the possibility for an ace five straight. It was there. Not certain, but maybe… She looked over her shoulder, saw Marie sitting among the spectators, watching the game, watching her. When the bet came around to her she turned and looked at the other players and the dealer. She smiled. “Call and raise one hundred thousand.” They all seemed surprised. It made her laugh. And that is the end of Games and Skill Games of Chance. Thanks for read and hope you enjoyed.
  20. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    At the moment I have no really concept that would make that story interesting, so for now it will have to be left to individuals imaginations. But glad you liked it.
  21. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    I had to think about it, whether I was going to write that scene like that. As you have noticed this story is a Casino Royale ripoff (or homage if one is being generous ). However I think it worked, because it was mostly divorced from the fetish itself. I suspect that scene may have cost me some readers, but you take a chance sometimes and hopes it works.
  22. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    She had been asleep, dreaming of something nice that escaped from her as soon a she opened her eyes. Someone was knocking on the room’s door. Looking at the bedside clock she saw she had only been about asleep for about an hour. Maybe it was Caroline looking for Steven, she thought as she slipped off the bed, or Steven had forgotten his key, or someone from the casino, up to congratulate her. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. She did not expect Conrad Revel to be standing out there. “Can I help y…” He stepped forward and hit her, knocking her back. Kelly had been somewhat rough and tumble as a kid. She had fallen from the back of a horse and had the breath knocked out of her. She had broken her arm playing touch football when she had been tackled by an over enthusiastic inbetweener. The point was that she had been hurt before, so lying on the floor, breath knocked out of her, was not a completely new feeling for her. But never had a giant hit her (well, beside spankings and those never counted). What left her lying there, doing nothing, was more the surprise that a giant would hit her than the actual hit itself. He stepped in after her, kicked the door closed. He was kneeling at her side, a roll of duct tape in his hands. He put a strip over her mouth, then used more tape to secure her arms behind her back and taped her feet together. He waved something over her, something that beeped. He reached down and grabbed the gold watch around her wrist, yanked it off her, tossed it away. Conrad had brought a duffle bag with him. He put her into it. It was padded with towels to hide her shape. He zipped it closed, leaving her in darkness. She felt him lift her and the bag up, then he was moving. She was bumped around, turned about in the bag, felt him almost running down stairs, the bag with her in it slapping against his side. Then she was falling, but only for a moment as the bag landed on something hard. A soft ‘clunk’ of metal on metal. She had been put in a car’s trunk. Not long after she felt the vibration of the car starting up. Where was he taking her? What was going to happen to her? Eventually the car stopped, and she was pulled out of the trunk, walked somewhere, and then dropped to a hard floor. Even with the padding of the towels it hurt enough to leave her stunned. The bag was unzipped, Conrad pulled her out, held her up. “No one is around here to hear you scream, but I don’t want to hear a screaming little, so keep it down or I’ll hurt you.” He then grabbed the tape over her mouth and yanked it off. “Understand?” “Yes,” she said. He took a knife and cut the tape around her arms and legs, then dropped her into a chair too big for her. There were other men around, standing or sitting near the edge of the room. “I want the bank code for the game’s winnings.” “I don’t have it,” she told him. He backhanded her, hard enough to almost knock her from the chair. She cut the inside of her cheek on her teeth. “Don’t lie to me.” “I didn’t have the buy in, someone else provided it. They got all the money.” He grabbed her shoulders, fingers digging painfully in. “Don’t lie to me.” “I’m not. His name was Steven Artimage and he was in the room with me.” He seemed to think about that for a moment. Then he slapped her again. “Don’t lie to me.” Kelly shook her head. “What do you want me to tell you?” she said, not wanting to be hurt again. “Give me the password for the account!” “I don’t know it.” He kicked the chair out from under here, she hit the floor hard. “Give me the password.” “Stop that Conrad,” a familiar voice said. Kelly looked up, mouth agape as she saw Lyle Redmond enter the room. “She’s not giving me the password. She says she doesn’t know it. Says she gave it to her backer.” “Do you think that is possible?” Lyle asked as he walked into the room to stand next to Conrad and over her. She tried getting up but Conrad pushed her back down the floor with his foot. “You think a little would give up that much money, just like that.” Lyle looked down at her. “I will admit littles can be greedy little things if you let them. I have to keep a firm hand on my girls to keep them from getting spoiled.” Conrad reached down and grabbed the front of her t-shirt, pulling her up. “I’ll get her to talk.” “You are treating a little like an adult Mr. Revel. That will fail.” He righted the chair and took a seat. “You don’t interrogate littles, you punish them and they realize they are wrong.” He plucked Kelly out of Conrad’s hands and laid her across his lap. “No, no, no,” Kelly said, struggling. Not that it did not do any good. Lyle lay six, rapid hard spanks against her jean covered bottom causing Kelly to let out a howl. Who would have thought she would look back fondly on being spanked by Caroline? “Little girls should not lie,” Lyle said, and slapped his hand against her bottom five more times. “Little girls should answer truthfully when asked a question.” More spanks. “Little girls should respect their betters.” More spanks. Kelly was sobbing uncontrollably. She felt him loosen her jeans and then whisk them down to her knees. A minute or two passed and Kelly stopped sobbing, stopped gasping. Her bottom hurt so much. “What is the code for the bank account?” Lyle asked her. “I don’t know.” More smacks fell across her pantie covered ass, his large hand easily encompassing her whole bottom. Kelly screamed, wiggling, trying to get away, crying, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know.’ Finally it was Conrad who said, “Maybe she really does not know.” Lyle stopped spanking her. He stood, kept hold of her, turned around and set her on the chair. Kelly sobbed as her well spanked bottom was placed on the steel of the chair. They ignored her until she had cried herself out. She looked down at her jeans and wondered if she should pull them up. Lyle leaned in. “Kelly, I want you to tell me what the passcode is.” His tone was soft, almost kind. “You’ve been punished, and if you tell me I will consider you a good girl. You want to be a good girl don’t you? Good girls don’t get spanked.” Kelly did not know if she wanted to be a good girl, but she knew she did not want to be spanked. However she also could not tell him what she did not know. Sniffing she said, “I don’t know it. Steven changed it.” “I am inclined to believe her,” Conrad said. “Perhaps, but littles lie. It is in their nature,” Lyle answered him. He walked away from her, then turned and came back. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a smartphone. He held it out towards her. “Do you know what this is Kelly?” “It’s a sm…” Her attention was captured by flashing lights. “,,,artphone.” Something felt strange. Some of the men were laughing. She looked down. Her panties were soaked, a puddle of urine had spread across the seat, stinging tender skin inflamed by the earlier spanking. “What?” “A simple hypnotic colour pattern. Some therapists use it to help littles take the steps back they need but cannot admit to themselves.” She started wide eyed. “I care little for it myself. I prefer that my girls make those decisions on their own.” He smiled at her. “It is important that littles realize they are not adults.” Conrad and a few of the others laughed again. “One exposure, just as accident, but multiple exposures, the effect lasts longer,” Lyle told her. “Eventually, without intervention, it becomes permanent.” “I don’t know the code,” Kelly said once more. “You’re one of those littles, the ones who have something special about themselves that make them think they are grownups. It’s sad. You see something special, but really, it is just something making you unhappy. “I now have access, thanks to my new partner,” he looked at Conrad, “to some interesting and advanced variations on this style of program, and some experimental medicines that make the effect take hold much stronger, and faster, with greater scope.” He walked a few steps from her then turned around. “Do you think you could play cards if you could not even count to ten Kelly?” For a second she did not think she had heard right, and her mind spun about with the implication of what he said. “You couldn’t” she whispered. He could not do that. Could he do that? “I suppose you could try. Perhaps something like, I have this many,” he held up three fingers, “of this kind,” he held up five fingers. More laughter from the others. “Perhaps you would have to play barefoot to better keep track.” With a sob Kelly said, “I’ll give you the code.” The best way to bluff someone was to give them what they wanted to believe. A laptop was brought to her. She brought up the banking website. “She’s in the right place,” Conrad said from behind her, where he looked over her shoulder. Kelly typed in the password. “There. That’s it.” “Wait, there is almost nothing there,” Conrad said. “What?” Lyle demanded. “What?” Kelly asked, sounding shocked. “That’s five million dollars,” Conrad told them. Lyle put a large hand on her head, turned her to face him. “Where is the money?” “It was there. It was all there just…” she trailed off, made her eyes go wide. “Ken!” “Ken?” “I was working with him, this was all his idea.” The two men looked away from each other, to each other, their expressions changing like she had told them the secret of life. “Of course,” Conrad said. “I suppose he was coaching you over some sort of wireless device?” Lyle asked her. That was the stupidest thing that Kelly had ever heard, but it seemed to be what he wanted to hear so she nodded and said, “Uh huh.” “Obviously this Ken person took all the money,” Conrad told Lyle. Lyle nodded, then frowned. “Why leave anything in the account though? Kelly was careful not to react, but she suspected her bluff was about to be called. “Who would leave a little completely helpless?” Conrad asked Lyle. After a moment Lyle nodded. He turned back to Kelly. “Where is he?” Kelly told him the hotel she knew Ken was staying at. She did not want to give him up like that, but the cards she showed had to be good. They checked, confirmed it. Conrad sent five of the men to go and get Ken. Five did not seem bad for Ken, as long as none of those men were like Steven. He might even enjoy the fight. Or she might be trying to make herself feel better. Conrad sent two men outside watch while he and Lyle remained in the room. She had bought herself some time, maybe. Ken might be able to find her, if he made it through those five men sent after him. And she could hope that Steven would show up. He had brought her. He should be trying to protect her. The watch he had given her, the one he had told her to not lose. Not lose was just another way to saying ‘never take it off, keep it with you’. He must have put a tracking device in it. But Conrad had torn it away. Several minutes passed as Kelly sat there, trying to figure out what who might be able to help her. “What should we do with her?” Conrad’s voice made her turn her head, realizing they were talking about her and wanting to know what they were saying. “I had been thinking that she would make a perfect sixth for my nursery, but, she’s too tall, and not very cute.” She could not see them and relaxed enough to let the anger show on her face. More like her face would remind him he was a loser… at least at poker. “So, we’ll need to make her disappear.” “Disappear?” Lyle sounded concerned. “We could scramble her memories, dump her in some place, or leave her with someone, where they won’t ask questions.” Would they really did that? “That sounds like a good plan.” It sounded like a terrible plan to Kelly. “The problem with that is whatever we do can be undone, if one puts enough effort and money into it.” “What are you suggesting?” Lyle asked. What was he suggesting, Kelly wondered. “Mr. Redmond, you care about littles, want to see them taken care of. I understand that. Sometimes though, well, a few have to be sacrificed for the rest to be taken care of.” “You can’t be suggesting?” “Why not? Big picture wise, well, does it matter?” “It matters to me. I want to see littles looked after.” “And if your desire to protect this one means many others are not protected?” Lyle made an uncertain sound. They were going to kill her. No one was going to save her. So she was going to have to save herself. Quietly, carefully she reached down and grasped the waist of her jeans, pulled them up her, dragged them through the urine on her chair. She was careful not to make a noise as she wiggled her painful bottom back and forth so she could get the jeans up around her waist. She buttoned them, then took a deep breath. Pushing herself from the chair, her feet made a scuffling sound as her shoes hit the cracked concrete. She took off at a run, towards the dark doorway in front of her, away from the men behind her. She had to run, to keep running. She hated running. Heavy footsteps behind her, she tried not to picture the longer strides of either giant bringing them closer to her. All she had to focus on was the door. On getting away. Someone grabbed her long hair, hauled back and yanked her to a painful stop. Then she was lifted by her hair, which hurt a lot and made her scream out in pain. Swung around, more screams, then thrown back into the chair, which almost went over backwards and actually went up on two legs before falling forward again. Conrad, who had grabbed her, closed, put his palm on her forehead and pushed her head back. In his other hand he had a gun. Kelly had never seen a real gun before. It looked terrifying. If Lyle’s phone had not made her wet herself earlier she was certain the icy fear that stabbed through her would have left her in soaked pants. “What are you doing?” Lyle shouted. “We don’t need her, we can get rid of her.” “No! Not like this! Not with her seeing it.” “Sometimes we have to be cruel to be kind Mr. Redmond.” “I won’t let you,” Lyle said. She thought they were going to come to blows. Conrad pushed the barrel of the gun hard against the side of her head. Everything went dark and for a moment Kelly thought she was dead, but then she realized the lights had gone off. “What the hell?” A shout. Conrad. “Marcelle, why are the lights out!” Then there was a flash of light, and an echoing boom that made Kelly cry and put her hands over her ears. “No, no, no,” she sobbed. Flash, boom. Sound of people running. The chair was knocked over and she fell heavily to the floor, once again having the breath knocked out of her. She lay there, trying to suck in a breath of air, wondering just when she was going to die. Then the lights came on, and a vast figure appeared over her, a gun in its hand. Kelly closed her eyes tight and hoped it would not hurt. She flinched away from the hand that touched her, but there was no pain, just a gentle almost caress as the hand ran from the top of her head, down the side of her face and over her shoulder and arm. “Es-tu blessé? Parle moi? Kelly, my petit Jean d’Arc, open your eyes.” She did not believe what she was hearing, thought it some kind of trick, but she opened her eyes. Marie was kneeling at her side, one hand running over her body, checking for injuries Kelly realized. In her other hand she held a frightful looking gun. While she was speaking to her, examining her, she was looking elsewhere, all around, as if there was still some danger. “What are you doing here?” She looked down at Kelly for a moment, smiled, then went back to looking around. “I would be a terrible nanny if I let my pretty girl out of my sight more than once. Are you okay?” Was she okay? “Nothing’s broken… probably.” “Formidable. Stand up and put your arms around my neck, keep clear of my pistol.” Kelly got up, feeling bruises, but as she had said, nothing was broken. She wrapped her arms around the big woman, careful not to hold on as tight as she wanted to lest she choke Marie. She straightened, her free hand slipping under Kelly’s bottom so she could hold her up, pull her close. “Wet,” Marie said, with a small click of disapproval. Kelly almost laughed. “Who else was in this room?” “Conrad and Lyle.” “Lyle Redmond?” “Yes.” “Interesting. Hold tight, I will need to move fast.” Marie ran, her long foot steps and heavy weight booming on the floor, then outside, thumping on the ground. Each footfall jolted Kelly in her arms, reminding the little of all the hurts she had taken. She bit down on them and made no noise, not wanting to distract Marie. Then they slowed, and she felt the amazon shifting her about, heard the sound of a car door opening, and then she was placed, gently into the car’s bucket seat. The door closed, a few seconds later Marie opened the driver’s side door and slid in. “I hope you don’t think too badly of me for not having a child seat,” she said and started the car, shifting into reverse, hitting the gas, rapidly spinning the steering wheel about. A shift into gear and the car sped away. Kelly started laughing, which turned into sobbing and she probably cried for nearly minute before with sniff and hiccoughs she got herself under control. “Feel better?” Marie asked. Her attention was on the road. “No,” Kelly said, then, “yes.” “I would hold you and let you have a good, proper cry, but that will have to wait.” Kelly sniffed, then said, “Ken!” “What?” “I sent them to where Ken was, I had to…” Well, she had chosen to, cause she was afraid. “Use my phone,” Marie took one hand from the wheel and removed a phone from her jacket pocket, held out to her. She dialled, got Ken. “This is Kelly Ken, you’re in trouble.” “Trouble? What troubles Miss Fortuna?” It was too hard to explain it all. “Some people tried to rough me up for the prize money. I had to point them at you. Five giants.” “Oh, is thats all. Don’ts worry. Better you sends them at me. Wants me to break them?” “No, just go somewhere else…” “Wait,” Marie said. Kelly looked at her. Not taking her eyes from the road Marie said, “If your Ken does not put himself in danger, arranging to capture these men would be of use. We could arrange for the police to help, but that may take a little time, and it might scare them off.” “Did you hear that Ken?” she asked. “I heards it.” “Do you think…” “Don’ts worry Miss Fortuna. I’ll sees if I can gets these guys for your friend.” “Don’t take any chances Ken.” “Don’t worries Miss Fortuna.” He hung up. “He seems like a nice man,” Marie said. “I’ve always liked having him around.” “Are you…” “No,” Kelly shook her head. It was not the first time she had been asked that question. “How did you find me?” “I followed Conrad. I’m sorry I was not able to get to you sooner.” She looked at Kelly for a moment. “Your poor face.” “Is it bad?” Kelly asked, putting her hand to her face, wincing slightly as she touched the swelling around her mouth. “It will fade soon, but I take offence at someone hitting a little.” “I’m not a fan of it myself.” Marie laughed. “I was waiting for some back up, but then those five men left and I was preparing to go in carefully, but then I heard you scream…” “Thank you.” She paused. “You’re not a real nanny are you?” “Do you have complaints about the way I took care of you?” Kelly was hard pressed to find an answer to that, but after a few seconds she said, “It was very professional.” “There you go. However, one can be a perfectly skilled nanny and be something else as well.” “What is that something else?” Marie did not answer, remaining silent so long that Kelly assumed she would not. Then she said, “Mr. Artimage, and Miss Jay and perhaps Mr. Wright came here with complicated plans to take away Conrad Revel’s resources and get leverage on him. However, my superiors took a much more practical approach. If Conrad Revel had won I was to kill him.” “Kill…” “Yes. Terrible isn’t it.” Kelly nodded, and then, because Marie was still watching the road she said, “Yes.” “Sometimes my job requires me to do terrible things, and sometimes it allows me to do wonderful things, like taking care of a pretty girl who plays poker. I am something of a spy, though with a French flair.” Kelly thought about it. She looked for someway to connect a woman who had been ready to kill Conrad Revel (terrible as he was) and the woman who had held her and sung lullabies to her. “Have I shocked you?” Marie asked. “Yes,” Kelly said. “My poor petit Jean d’Arc. Littles and such violence should never mix. Mr. Artimage has much to answer for in my opinion.” “You’re not…” Kelly started to ask, alarmed. Marie laughed. “I am not going to shoot him. I am just going to give him a piece of my mind for letting you be hurt.” “Good.” “Have you fallen in love with him?” Marie asked. “He’s very handsome.” “Oui.” “But I’m not in love with him. I just don’t want him to be hurt.” “Littles, so gentle.” Kelly did not think it was a criticism, though she herself was not sure she could take it as a compliment. “What happens now?” Kelly asked. “We stop off at a hospital where I get you looked at…” “I’m fine.” “We will not discuss this. And then we return to the hotel to sort a few things out.” “Okay.” She wondered what ‘sort a few things out’ meant but guessed she would learn soon enough. It was still a few hours away from dawn when the four of them sat in the suite. Kelly was wrapped in a thick robe, warm and tingling from the ointments that the doctor at the emergency room had applied to all her bruises, from the ones of her face to the ones on her bottom. She had sat on the couch and listened to Marie give Steven a ‘piece of her mind’. She also included Caroline in that as, having partnered up with Steven, was equally responsible for ensuring Kelly was kept safe. “I admit,” Steven said when Marie had finished, “I made a mistake. I never thought that Conrad would waste his time on Kelly.” “Waste his time?” Kelly asked, offended. “You should both be glad that she was not seriously harmed,” Marie said, apparently ignoring Kelly’s statement. Finished with her dressing down of the other two giants she then filled them in on how she had spotted and tracked Conrad. Steven told Marie that had had left Kelly for the purpose of finding Conrad himself. “I assumed I would be the likely target.” “Kelly, can you tell us what happened?” Marie asked as she took a seat next to the little. Taking a deep breath she told them the entire story, from opening the door (which had three giants all admonishing her for opening a door without seeing who was on the other side), to her rescue by Marie. When she got to the part about convincing them Ken had been in control Caroline asked Steven, “Did you teach her that? It was a good play.” Kelly, tired of the way the giants seemed to automatically stick her into a space labeled ‘child’ snapped, “I came up with that idea myself bitch.” Caroline looked shocked. Kelly felt a short, sharp pain across the crown of her head and looked up in surprise at Marie who had just smacked her on the head. It was not like it had been very hard, and cushioned by her hair had not really hurt at all. “If your poor bottom was not so bruised I would give you a swat on it right now,” Marie told her. “Just because people do not treat you the way you want is no reason to be rude to them. I believe Otto Kruugen congratulated you on remembering that fact not so long ago.” Kelly flushed and nodded and then looked over at Caroline. “I’m sorry.” “Apology acc…” “But I’m not stupid, I’m just small.” Caroline nodded. “Yes. You are not stupid.” Kelly wondered if she could bring up not being demoted back to diapers and her ABCs but decided not to push it. Finally she finished. “It was really Lyle Redmond?” Steven asked her. She nodded. “It really was.” The three giants looked to one another then back at her. “And he spoke of hypnotic devices and drugs.” “He threatened that I would not be able to count to ten, and he had that thing on his smartphone that he flashed in my eyes that made me,” she paused and swallowed, “wet my pants.” Not her favourite part of the story. “But he specifically talked about advanced and experimental applications?” Steven asked her. He seemed completely dismissive of the fact than an app on a smartphone could make her wet her pants. Kelly had heard there were places where a little who wet themselves was no longer considered an adult. And a smartphone app that made you wet you pants did not even engender the smallest bit of surprise from the giants. As a little Kelly had to wonder what other tricks the giants kept secret. However she only said, “Yes, he said advanced and experimental.” The giants looked between each other. “We’ll need to find Conrad. What about Lyle?” Steven asked. “I’m afraid he had both alibi and lawyers, and the word of a little against a man like him,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I think he is already on his private jet over international waters. I am sorry Kelly.” Kelly sighed. “I’ll contact my government, see if we can work together on this.” Steven told Marie and Caroline. “What about me?” Kelly asked. The three looked at her. “What about you?” Caroline asked. Marie saved her, in a manner, from having to explain herself by saying, “There will be security watching over you, until you leave tomorrow. You already have plane tickets home, do you not?” “I do.” “Then you will leave and go home. You will be safe there,” she said with confidence. “Oh,” Kelly said. For a moment she had thought she was part of what they were doing. She had played her part after all. But that part was over. Marie stood and picked Kelly up from the couch. “We need to speak of things you cannot know of,” she told the little she held, “and you should rest up. It had been a trying ordeal.” “But…” “Hush,” Marie told her and carried her into the bedroom. She wrapped Kelly up tightly in the oversized robe, and then slid her under the covers and tucked them tight around her. “Just get some sleep Ma brave fille.” And she kissed her on the forehead and stepped way from bed. Kelly wanted to say so much, ask so much, but it all got caught in her throat and she was silent. On her way out Marie stopped and picked up the pale pink dress that Kelly had tossed to the floor earlier. She gave it a shake, then went and hung it up in the closet. Kelly watched as she ran her hands through the clothing hung there. She looked back at Kelly and smiled. “I will see this all gets to someone who will be comme il faut in them.” “Thank you,” Kelly said, the only word that would escape the tangle in her throat. Then Marie turned off the light and left the room. When Kelly woke the next morning Marie and the others were gone, and she had not even come to say goodbye. The hotel had a doctor who worked there every other day for half a day. He gave Kelly her enema the morning she was to leave. Clinical, he gave her the privacy of a screened off bed. It did not make it any better, but it was not as humiliating as with Caroline or quietly embarrassing as with Marie. Afterwards he wrote out some prescriptions for her, and gave her the brand names of some enema bulbs she could use herself, a list of foods she should stick too for two weeks, and advised her to see her doctor if she had any pains. Then he wished her well and left her to get dressed. Her clothing from the night before had been laundered, so she was wearing the jeans and a blouse, with a ratty pair of running shoes. She was certain were Marie to see her that she would pronounce Kelly anything but ‘comme il faut’. That thought made her smile as she pulled the jeans up over the training panties. Just in case there was a little enema left to expel. Those panties, the three chokers and the haircombs (along with over fifteen million dollars after all was counted) were the only things she was taking with her. As she walked from the small clinic she wondered who Marie was going to give all the other clothing to. Perhaps Marie had a child, or a little, of her own. If so she felt bad for them, it must be hard with Marie gone all the time. Walking towards the lobby it was impossible to not notice the men and women in black suits who trailed her. Obvious security, as promised by Marie. She collected her small overnight bag from the bell captain’s station. The man thanked her for staying with them and told her that all costs had been made complimentary by the house then congratulated her on the win. Kelly smiled and thanked him and wondered if Steven had planned to stick her with the bill. She waited on the steps of the hotel for Ken. A few people came up to offer her congratulations, often saying how surprised they were that a little had managed to win. Like there was something miraculous in it. If someone asked her to touch them and cure whatever ailed them she was going to boot them in the shins as hard as she could. Fortunately for such hypothetical shins a taxi pulled up and Ken got out. “Morning Miss Fortuna,” he called. She picked up her bag and walked down the too tall steps. “Good morning Ken.” He gave her a hand up into the passenger section and then circled around to get in the other side. As the tax pulled away from the hotel he asked. “You okay Miss Fortuna, yous gots some bruising ons your face.” “It will fade soon. What about you?” There was a strip of tape across his nose, suggesting it had been broken again, and a number of butterfly closures sealed a number of cuts on his bruised face. His hands were heavily bandaged. He smiled. “Me? I’m fines. Nones of those five you gaves to me were anythings special. That was real smarts of yous Miss Fortuna, sending them to me likes that. Any of thems the ones that did that?” He lifted a huge hand and pointed at her face. “No.” “Thats too bads, I liked to thinks that I got some back for you.” “You did more than enough. I am sure the information that those men provide will help someone get some back for me.” “Just have preferreds thats it was me.” Kelly smiled. “Maybe next time.” The first class tickets got them through check in and security quickly. As Kelly was walking though the airport she often looked over her shoulder. She delayed during check in, until the attendant insisted she get onboard or be left behind. As she stepped onto the boarding ramp she looked over her shoulder one last time. Amelia had always told her that if a giant ever got their hands on a little that little was almost certainly caught. “You’re a crazy idiot Amelia Black,” she said softly and jogged down the ramp towards the open door with the attendant behind her, saying “Hurry, hurry.”
  23. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    In the morning Marie administered another enema to Kelly. It was not pleasant, but it was better than when Caroline had done it. Marie had her lie on her side, on some towels laid out on the floor, with a robe draped over her. And she gently patted Kelly’s head and rubbed her stomach, telling her it would be okay. A bath afterward, then dressed in a set of rompers, Marie took Kelly down for breakfast. Kelly was in a diaper, just in case there was still a little bit of enema, Marie explained. It was an annoyingly enough valid concern that Kelly did not protest. “I don’t want this,” Kelly said, looking at the meal of bland cereal and yogurt placed in front of her. “We want to give your tummy a chance to get better,” Maire said. “You don’t want that bug you picked up coming back.” Kelly agreed silently that she certainly did not want to be poisoned again. Marie smiled and picked up the spoon. “I can feed you if you want.” Kelly took the spoon from her and ate one of the most uninteresting meals she had ever had. “It’s like eating cardboard,” she said, somewhere halfway thought. “You’ve eaten cardboard?” “It is like I assume eating cardboard would be like.” Marie laughed softly and gave her hair a quick pat. “I so like taking care of you.” Kelly almost said that she liked having Marie take care of her, but it would be a lie. At least she was pretty certain it would be a lie. “I enjoy the time we spend together,” Kelly replied. Marie smiled and Kelly wondered what the woman had heard in that statement. They went to the hairstylists again to get Kelly’s hair put right once more. There they discovered Caroline in one of the chairs, having the finishing touches put her hair style. As she was helped into the chair by Marie the maid/nanny said, “I’m sorry you lost Miss Jay. I’m sure Kelly is sorry as well.” Did she really believe that, or was this one of those deals where she was supposed to show good manners for the sake of good manners? Kelly said, “Yes, it was too bad.” The stylist tiled Kelly’s chair back so her hair could be rinsed. “It is the nature of these things,” she heard Caroline say to Marie. “You never play a game unless you can afford to lose.” The sound of rushing water kept her from hearing anything else they said, and she had to close her eyes against the shampoo. When her chair was straightened up Caroline was gone. A trim, a rinse, drying and curling, it did not take too long before Kelly left the beauty parlour with Marie and returned to her room to get dressed. Marie chose the pale pink dress, with the red shoes. “You will look quite fierce in red my card playing warrior,” she said, dressing Kelly for the day. She did not let Kelly face the mirror as she put the combs in her hair again, and then applied a little make up on her face. “There we go,” she finally said, and let Kelly see. After the last few days of seeing a cute little girl in the mirror Kelly was surprised to see, well, she still looked young, what with the dress, but something closer to a beautiful, not so little girl. “I want you to look fierce today,” Marie told her as she patted the combs into place. “This is fierce?” “Of course. Girls always look fierce when they are pretty.” Kelly smiled. “And is it,” she sounded the word carefully, “comme il faut?” “For any other little in the city? Non. But for my Jean d’Arc of the poker table, it is tres comme.” Kelly smiled for a moment, then frowned. “Didn’t they burn her?” “They would not have if I had been there,” Marie stated confidently. She laughed, and it felt good to laugh. Kelly was certain she would miss Marie when she left. But that was not today. Today Marie would hold her hand when she needed it and Kelly would play poker. Otto knocked Izzy out of the game in the first hand. Six hands later Otto took the remainder of Charle’s stake and he was out of the game as well. They took a short break to rearrange the table for the four remaining players. Lyle Redmond suggested a drink, to celebrate the winners to that point. Even if Caroline had not spanked the lesson into her Kelly would have refused to take a drink from him or at his instigation. She was kept from having to tell Lyle Redmond to ‘piss up a rope’ by Marie who brought a bottle of champagne from behind the bar and four glasses. “A celebratory drink is a wonderful idea,” she said, and opened the bottle, a towel around the neck and a slow twist to avoid popping corks. She poured Kelly’s drink first. “Just a little,” she said with a smile, then filled the glasses of the other three. “Well then,” Lyle picked up his glass. “To the best players at the table, and of course Miss Fortuna.” Lyle and Conrad drank. Neither Otto nor Kelly did. “Something wrong?” the giant asked. He looked honestly confused. Kelly was about to say something but Otto spoke first. “You are a boor Mr. Redmond. A churlish and insolent robber baron and were I ten years younger after I beat you in this game I would take you out back and thrash you.” He knocked his glass off the table. “However I am an old man.” He sat down in his chair. “I believe you will be beaten, though not by me, and even if you do win, I will make sure every casino along the coast knows you for the boor you are.” Several people applauded the old man’s words. Kelly did as well. She was saved from having to knock her glass off the table by Maire taking it away. Lyle looked around, looked both confused and angry by the way people reacted. “You’re fortunate you are an old man,” he said as he sat. “We will have politeness as this table,” the dealer told Lyle. “What? What about what he just said to me?” The dealer simply shrugged his shoulders. “The truth is always polite.” Then he dealt their next hand. Kelly believed with all her heart that Otto would be remembered for playing well, for the skillful hands in which he had defeated Izzy and Charles, for his speech in defence of a fellow player. He would not be remembered for winning this tournament. Kelly herself took him from the game, playing hard to make sure that was the case. She fought for it. And as the dealer declared him out of the game he reached out and put his hand on Kelly’s. “Thank you for a challenge my dear, and for giving me a worthy opponent to lose to.” Kelly felt tears in her eyes that for the first time in days had nothing to do with being treated like a child. “You’re welcome.” He smiled, took his hand off hers, then stood and bowed to dealer. “I thank you for your skilled work, Monsieur Fulover, it was a pleasure to have a dealer so skilled.” Andre Fulover nodded, but said nothing else. Kelly supposed it was to maintain a semblance of neutrality. Otto then bowed to her. “Were skill and size matched you would stand a giant Miss Fortuna. I hope you might come and see me one day, if you are willing to share stories with an old man.” Stupid tears, Kelly thought, but she smiled and nodded. “It would be an honour.” He nodded politely at Conrad and ignored Lyle as he turned and left. “We shall have a thirty minute break,” the dealer announced. Marie took Kelly to the bathroom, and Kelly was glad enough to go because she wanted a few minutes to get her head together. She could have done without being undressed and put on the toilet by her maid/nanny, but Marie gave her some actual privacy. When she returned to the table she was ready to do. The seats had been switched about a little. She had the dealer on her right and Lyle and Conrad across from her. She smiled as she put a large, square, ten thousand Euro chip into the pot, next to the chips that Lyle and Corand had already anted. “Something amusing Miss Fortuna?” Conrad asked her. “No more friendly targets I have to worry about.” “Pardon?” She did not expand as the dealer dealt out their first two face down cards and their first face up. Kelly looked at the Queen of Spades that landed in front of her, smiled. Conrad got an Four of Clubs and Lyle had a King of Hearts. “Mr. Redmond,” the dealer said. “Twenty thousand,” he said as he put two chips. And so the next part of the game started with only three players. Kelly played as well as she ever had, better really, because she was playing smart. She discovered a new source of, well, not fun, but satisfaction. It was not crazy bets and bluffs, but being focused on beating people she did not like. Who knew improving her game required playing with odious people? She moved ahead, a little bit at a time, taking equally from both Lyle and Conrad. Those two seemed to focus on one another, as if only the two men were at the table, though they forgot Kelly at their peril, because she was always there, ready to turn over a card, with a smile, and reveal she was the winner. Still, she suspected they would play their second round of the game that day, and perhaps tomorrow as well, for while she was ahead of them both, no one was close to going bust. Then something strange happened with the last hand of that round. Kelly folded on the fourth card the dealer dealt to her, giving up the sixty thousand she had put in the pot after Lyle had raised by eighty-thousand. She expected that Lyle would fold right after Conrad called and raised, as she was sure he would. Conrad had a pair of fours showing, while Lyle just had an ace and jack of hearts. Conrad pushed his chips into the pot, then raised by one hundred and sixty-thousand. Lyle didn’t fold. Lyle called. Conrad stayed. Another two cards were dealt out. Lyle got a six of spades and Conrad got another four. Conrad opened with forty-thousand. Lyle, called and raised eighty-thousand. Raised into three fours. Kelly stared at his two face down cards. Was he actually drawing for a royal flush? Even if the two hole cards were the queen, king and/or ten of hearts it was a crazy play. It was the sort of thing she might do. As a bluff it was only good if Conrad fell for it. And he never would. Conrad checked and raised one hundred and sixty-thousand. People were gathering, watching closely, feeling the tension that was building between the players. Lyle checked and the next cards were dealt. A queen of clubs to Lyle and a nine of spades to Conrad. Conrad looked over at Lyle. “Shall we increase the table limits? Starting bet a million?” Kelly was not the only one who hissed in a breath of surprise. Fold you idiot, Kelly thought, as much as she did not like Lyle, his continuing to play was just embarrassing. She was certain that Conrad had four fours, and suspected Lyle, if he was lucky, might have three jacks or three aces. “Agreed,” Lyle said. Kelly suddenly wondered, as Conrad opened with a million euros and then Lyle matched and raised to three million, if all the people she had played with had thought her that much of an idiot, when she had bluffed blind in the hopes of getting the right card. Looking at it from the outside she suddenly thought of it as childish. And with that thought came the idea that maybe she was one of those littles that was not ready to grow up. Or at least had been. she quickly assured herself. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Lyle saying, “Call, raise to 15 million.” He had obviously gone crazy. What had Amelia said once to her, too much thin air up there? Conrad looked perhaps a little uncertain as he checked. Lyle was getting to him. Insane bets were rattling the otherwise cool man. The dealer laid out the seventh and last cards. Lyle got a queen of hearts and Conrad a six of diamonds. Kelly knew what cahrds she had had in the hand she folded. It was not impossible that Lyle just had picked up that royal flush. Unlikely, improbable, but not impossible. Still, she thought, were it her, is she was in Conrad’s place, she would fold. If it was a bluff it was masterful. Conrad took a deep breath and, still showing the high hand, Pushed forty thousand into the pot. “Suspend table limits?” Lyle asked. It took Conrad a few seconds to say, “Agreed.” Lyle nodded, looked at a pile of chips, a few million dollars, then leaned back and said, “I am all in.” Silence for several long seconds. Kelly almost told Conrad to fold. Not that he would have listened. The dealer spoke at that moment, “That will take all you have Mr. Revel.” Conrad nodded. “Agreed. All in.” People were leaning in around the table as Conrad turned up his two hole cards. A four and a three; the four of a kind Kelly had been certain he had. All attention turned to Lyle. Kelly was certain he would turn up junk, and then with a deprecating smile and a shrug of the shoulders he would excuse himself. It was what Kelly had done in similar situations. Lyle’s cards went face up, smoothly, together (smoother than she could have achieved with the big cards); The king and the ten of hearts. He had been bluffing right up to the end. Right until the queen of hearts had fallen into his hand. Shocked expressions, soft applause. Kyle leaned back in his chair, smiling, accepting the congratulations as for a moment people seemed to forget the dressing down he had received from Otto. Looking pained Conrad stood. “An excellent game,” he congratulated Lyle. “You played well,” Lyle told him, magnanimous in victory. It still sounded like an insult to Kelly’s ears. Conrad nodded once at Kelly, then turned and walked away, towards the bar. “We will meet again in four hours,” the dealer said. Lyle looked surprised for a moment. He actually forgot about me, or maybe he just thought that if only ‘the little’ was left they would declare him victor by default. He looked at her and nodded. “In four hours then.” Kelly nodded as well, feeling empty. Cheated. Marie got her at that point, to take her up to her room. She looked back at the deserted table, saw Lyle taking a seat beside Conrad at the bar. Was he offering more consolations or needling the man for loosing? “What is the matter?” Marie asked a few minutes later as they rode the elevator up the room. “Nothing is the matter,” Kelly said softly. “No fibbing Kelly.” There was a mock sternness in her tone. Kelly laughed softly as the elevator doors opened and they walked towards the room. “I was just hoping for a better game.” “Are you sad that Mr, Kruugen lost?” She stopped in front of the room door. “Yes, but that’s not it.” Marie knelt down, gently straightened the combs in her hair. “Then what is?” She sighed. “Lyle is an idiot and he is going to be no challenge.” “Kelly, that is rude,” Marie said, though she did not sound angry. Kelly shrugged her shoulders. “I know, but it’s true. He doesn’t even remember I am in the game half the time. How can he beat me?” Marie smiled and stood. “Don’t discount luck Kelly, and play him with all the seriousness you would want him to show you. I know you can be the better person.” She opened the door. Steven was in there. “Come back in about ten minutes Miss Frontè.” “Oui,” she said, and then after giving Kelly a gentle push into the room and a pat on the head she closed the door. “Revel is out,” Steven said. Kelly walked into the room, took a seat on the couch. “Yes. You got what you wanted.” “I still want you to win.” “I will.” “You were not sure you could beat Conrad.” “Conrad at least could conceive that a little might beat him, Lyle Redmond is incapable of thinking anything like that. He has already lost.” She said it morosely, disappointment obvious. “No one is going to remember this tournament as the one where Kelly Fortuna won against a table full of giants. All they are going to remember is that some churlish robber baron played like an idiot.” “I hope you are right.” Steven stood and left her alone in the room, going wherever he went when out. Probably to have sex with Caroline. She sat on the couch, staring at her red shoes for several minutes before she heard a knock at the door and Marie’s voice, asking to come in. Kelly got up from the couch and opened the door for the amazon. Maira undressed her, told her she should take a nap. “Can you hold me on your lap, like yesterday?” Kelly asked her. “Of course my petit Jean d’Arc,” she said, and lifted Kelly into her lap, once more singing softly. Kelly placed her head against the woman’s chest and closed her eyes. She sat down at a table, smaller than the one they had used earlier, directly across from Lyle, the dealer between them. Five hands in and she knew it was bad as she feared. She bluffed him and he folded. She called his bluff and he stayed in too long. She simply played better than him. The hands went faster with only the two of them. An hour in it seemed as if he was beginning to realize that he was not taking her seriously enough. His playing got better. Not good enough. After about two hours he was back where he had been when he had knocked Conrad from the game. The dealer called a break at the midway point. “Come along Kelly, let’s take you to the potty,” Marie said, helping her down from the chair. She as a little embarrassed at Marie’s words, but went without a complaint. When the game started again Lyle was once more playing poorly. Was that all it had taken, Marie treating her like a small child to make him forget? And had Marie done it on purpose? She wondered if Marie had any money on the game. Lyle tried. She gave him that. He tried to get her to agree to go over the table limit. She politely refused most of the time, and when she agreed it was only when she was certain she would win. His chips diminished. Several times she had to force herself to not try and take him out in one, grandiose play. At one point she was certain she could draw an ace five straight, and the thought that she could win on one, like she had back at the bar several days before, almost made her go wild. However she recalled the lyrics of a song, that if you chased rainbows you were going to get wet. And no little wanted to get wet. The dealer let the game go over the five hours at both Kelly and Lyle’s agreement. He was desperate and she was cool. And then he was out of chips. The dealer laid out the rest of their cards. And anticlimactically Kelly won the game with three of a kind to his two pair. “You are out Mr. Redmond,” the dealer said. Lyle seemed confused by the words. “She’s a little,” he said. “You are still out Mr. Redmond.” He took a deep breath. “Of course. Thank you.” He stood and offered his hand to the dealer. “You did an excellent job.” He left without acknowledging Kelly. It did not win him any friends. However Kelly had no time to think about that as she was led from the table, onto a stand that put her eye level at about eight feet. She was able to take the offered hands of the giants and inbetweeners who came to congratulate her. There were no littles there. Otto took her hand, gave it a firm shake. “A most enjoyable game to watch Miss Fortuana.” “Yes,” she said with a weak smile. “You played well, and gave your opponent every chance not to be a fool. It was a true victory.” She nodded again, but she did not believe it. “Consider this Miss Fortuna. Sometimes we don’t get the opponent we deserve, but often in those cases you are being the opponent the other person deserves.” Kelly smiled, then laughed. “Thank you.” “You are most welcome.” He gave her hand one last shake before moving aside for others. It was a little intimidating, all those people, all those giants, taking her hand in theirs. But Marie stood close by and Kelly felt secure. Caroline stepped up to her, took her hand, and said, “Wonderful performance.” She was smiling and Kelly could not help think that it was a smile of someone had had given her a spanking. Though perhaps she was reading too much into it. Then the owner of the casino and the hotel, Jean Noble, approached, holding a golden medallion. A knot had been tied halfway along the red, silk chord so that when he put it over her neck it hung down around her chest rather than down by her waist. “A most well played game,” he told her, and then kissed both her cheeks. When she had a moment she looked at the medallion. It felt heavy enough that it could contain real gold. Cartes D'or Triomphantes’ had been engraved in the surface, and the year, and with small flecks of metal from being recently cut, her name, ‘Kelly Fortuna’. She ran her thumb over the name, wondering if another name had been engraved there and them smoothed out so her name could be put on it instead. But no, it felt smooth. They had shown enough class to not assume that Lyle was going to win. And as the well wishers began to thin Mr. Nobel said, “If you will come with me Miss Fortuna, we can take care of your winnings.” “Yes, thank you,” Kelly said as he helped her down from the stand. Marie followed close behind as Jean led them to his office. He seemed somewhat confused by her presence when they reached the door, but Kelly said it would be okay if Marie entered. Marie stood near the wall, away from the desk, as Jean helped Kelly into the seat behind his desk and turned the laptop to face her. He brought up a bank’s online site. Entered a password. “Your winnings, minus the casino’s ten percent. Simply change the password to one of your own choosing.” He moved away so Marie could enter the new password in private. And it was done. “Thank you Mr. Noble,” she said as she got down from the chair. “Of course Miss Fortuna. Will we see you next year? I will ensure you are sent an invitation if you are interested.” Kelly smiled. “Who knows.” She had no idea if she could get the stake together. “Perhaps I can let you know in a few months?” “Of course.” He took a business card from his pocket. “If you need to get in touch with me.” “Thank you.” He showed Kelly and Marie from his office. “So, do you want to go back and celebrate?” Marie looked towards where the tournament had been held. “Do you think it would be rude of me if I did not?” Marie smiled. “I am sure they will forgive you.” And she took Kelly’s hand to lead her back to the room. Steven was there, waiting. “Miss Frontè, thank you for taking care of Kelly, your services will no longer be needed.” “Of course sir,” Marie said. Kelly turned her head, looking between Steven and Marie, for a moment not understanding how he could say that. Then she remembered that Maire had been doing a job, and that job was no longer required. Marie knelt down to bring her face close to Kelly’s. “I enjoyed showing you the city and helping you, and watching you play. Bonne chance Kelly.” Kelly nodded slowly. “Thank you for all your help,” she said. And with that Marie stood up and left, closing the door behind her. Kelly still couldn’t quite accept that Marie had just left. However Steven gave her no time to think of it. “I need you to give me access to the money,” he told her. Kelly nodded. “Right,” she said, walking over to the laptop that Steven had set up. He already had the bank’s site open. She paused. “I’m going to give you all the money, as we agreed, but, can you tell me what all this was about?” Steven sat down next to her. “It’s complicated and some of it is confidential.” “I can handle the complicated part and tell me what is not confidential.” She typed in the password, opening up the account with all the money. She moved aside and Steven took her place, but he did touch the laptop. “Conrad is an arms dealer, or a sort.” “Of a sort? Complicated or confidential.” “Confidential. He has used the money from such tournaments in the past to support his activities.” “So he’s lost so he’ll stop.” Steven leaned forward and typed across the laptop’s keyboard, made a few mouse clicks. “No, it will only slow him down. I needed you to win so that I can use the prize money as a way to get closer to him, so I can stop him and find out who he is working with.” “Who do you work for?” “I’ve moved your five million into another account for you. Enter your own password and it will be yours.” He stood and walked towards the door. “Is there anything else you can tell me?” Kelly asked his retreating back. “You’ve done a good thing,” he told her without looking back, then he opened the door and left the hotel room. Kelly shifted over to the laptop, looked at the account that had been set up in the same bank as the prize money had been. She would have to move it to her own bank account, but that was for later. She typed in a new password, taking control of the account. She closed the laptop and slid from the couch. In her room she undressed, fiddling with the bow, and then pulling the dress over her head. She tossed it into a messy pile on the floor and undressed down to the diaper, which she pulled off and tossed into the garbage. Next she took a long shower before returning to her room. Later, dressed in her jeans and t-shirt, she sat on her bed and called Ken. “Heys Miss Fortuna, beens waiting to hears from yous.” “Good evening Ken. It all went well?” “Yous cleaned up. Just likes yous said. No ones thoughts yous could win.” She smiled and fell back into her pillows. “Good work. Can you see about getting us a flight out of here tomorrow? Come and pick me up.” “I will do thats Miss Fortuna. And congratulation ons winnings.” “Thank you Ken,” she told him, and hung up. Dropping her phone to the bed beside her she closed her eyes. “What a game.”
  24. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    I am looking at the story I've almost finished and realized I missed one thing that would have added more verisimilitude. The cards that Kelly was playing with would have been sized for giants and therefore she would have had a little trouble with them when she had to flip them over. :)
  25. Chasing Emily (Complete)

    The second part of that round of play was not as good for Kelly as the earlier one had been. The pain in her stomach made it hard to focus. She did not lose anything, but the flow of the game changed, Lyle, Otto and Conrad all moving ahead, mostly to the detriment of Izzy, Charles and Caroline. She was relived when the round finally ended, with both Caroline and Izzy likely to be knocked out in the next round. Kelly just wanted to curl up in her bed and hope the pain in her stomach would fade. “You look a little pale,” Marie told her, brushing a bit of her hair back from her forehead. “I’m just tired,” she said, unable to explain why she felt so bad. Marie nodded. “We’ll get you to your room and you can rest up.” Holding Kelly’s hand firmly she led the smaller woman back to the room. Steven was waiting. “I’m sorry…” Marie said. Steven held a hand up to silence her. “It is not your fault Miss Frontè. In fact we both know who is at fault here.” He stared down at Kelly. Kelly was seized by the desire to hide behind Marie. It wasn’t fair. She had been poisoned and her stomach was killing her. She did not need Steven staring at her like that. “She’s already apologized,” Marie said, coming to Kelly’s defence. “I’m sure she has. Come back in an hour please. Kelly will apologize to you again then, and you can be certain she will mean it.” “Yes sir,” Marie said. She put a comforting hand on Kelly’s shoulder and then left. Steven went and sat down in the couch. She stood where she was, fairly certain she was not being invited to sit. “Are you stupid?” he asked her. “I’m not stupid.” “Well you acted like it. Conrad Revel is not your friend. You don’t take anything to drink from him, you don’t go anywhere with him. That is basic!” She flinched at the volume of his voice. “I’m here to gamble,” she said, trying to sound sure. “And if you had not gotten lucky, if you had not had the support you did, that would be over. You’d have been kicked out of the tournament. That would cost me a great deal of money, but it would have likely meant that Conrad would win.” He stood up and came to stand over her. “I will not let that happen,” he told her. “I’m sorry,” she told him, eyes prickling, “my stomach hurts. I just want to get some rest.” She was whining, almost crying, but her stomach hurt and Steven was so damn intimidating. Steven shook his head, returned the couch and sat. “I don’t know how to deal with children or littles,” he told her. “I deal with problems, I am a blunt instrument. I am afraid I am out of my depth trying to sort you out.” “Then what are you going to do?” Kelly asked softly. “Wait.” “What?” “Wait,” he said again. Kelly realized it was a command. She waited, put her hands over her stomach, hoping that would ease the pain. Some time later, just a few minutes at most, someone knocked at the door. “I don’t know how to deal with you,” he told her as he stood, “but I found someone else who is good at this sort of thing.” He opened the door. Kelly turned to see Caroline Jay come in. The two embraced for a moment, then Steven stepped aside. “She’s all yours.” “What?” Kelly asked. “Caroline is working with me now. She will help get you sorted out.” “What?” Kelly asked again. “Everything you need is in the bathroom,” Steven told her. “What is happening?” Kelly asked, then moaned softy as her stomach cramped again. “I can’t win,” Caroline said. “Steven here has told me you can.” She looked doubtful. “She was dominating that table today, up until she was poisoned. She’ll come through.” “Okay,” Caroline said to Steven. “What is she doing here?” Kelly asked Steven. “She,” Caroline said, “is here to get a naughty little sorted out. And you will refer to me as Miss Jay from now on. Now come along.” She grabbed Kelly and marched her into the bedroom. Kelly threw a desperate look Steven’s way, but just met his stony gaze and knew no help would come from there. In her bedroom Caroline stripped her down to the diaper. She was no where near as gentle as Marie, but was careful of the clothing, and the dress was off her and hung up in short order. Caroline holding her hand, she was pulled into the bathroom where Caroline released her hand then turned on her. “I have babysat littles and spent several summers working in an Etiquette School. I know exactly how to deal with you and were you not need needed I can assure you that you Kelly Fortuna are the exactly sort of little I would demote back to diapers and her ABCs.” Kelly took a step back, but snake fast, Caroline grabbed her. She pulled her off balance and then across her lap as she sat down on the room’s toilet. With a quick motion the tapes of her diaper were undone and it fell open under her. “You do not go with strangers.” Every word was punctuated by a crack of a slap across her butt. “You do not go with strangers,” she repeated and this time it was the backs of Kelly’s thighs that felt the sting of Caroline’s hand. “You do not take food or drink from strangers.” Again, her bottom was warmed. “You do not take food or drink from strangers.” The backs of her thighs were again slapped. Caroline continued those two lessons for a time. Long enough that Kelly, whose stomach still hurt, was crying and apologizing by the time Caroline seemed to tire of teaching the lesson about strangers. “If you’re Nanny is not around, stay where the tournament organizers can see you,” Caroline told her, then spanked her five times. “I’m sorry,” Kelly sobbed, just wanting the spanking and the humiliation and the pain in her guts to end. “Use your phone to call someone if your Nanny is not around.” Another five spanks. “I will, I will, please stop.” She felt so completely powerless across the amazon’s lap. “Think about that poor woman, looking for you, not know what happened to you.” Caroline gave her six hard swats and Kelly was bawling. Then Caroline stood and lowered the spanked and naked little to the floor, the diaper falling away. Kelly tried her best to get control of herself, but for a time all she could do was stand there and cry. Caroline left her to sob as she went about with something else. By the time Kelly had control of herself to pay attention to what Caroline was doing the amazon already had an enema bag with its hose set up and hanging from the curtain rod. Kelly shook her head, sniffed, and said, “No.” Caroline looked at her, perhaps a little bit of pity in her eyes. “Do you want your tummy to stop hurting?” Kelly nodded. “Then you are going to have to have this. Now, on your hands and knees, bum up in the air.” She wanted to refuse, she really did, but her stomach hurt so much. She did as she was told. As she knelt there on the cold tiles of the bathroom she was reminded of the night before, when in a similar posture she had masturbated to the sound of Caroline and Steven making love. It made her giggle, though any desire to find humour in the situation was gone a moment later when the enema nozzle was pushed into her bottom and the flow started. If anything it was even more painful and she found herself sobbing as Caroline simply lectured her on her bad behaviour. And when the enema was complete administered and then expelled into the toilet Caroline patted her still hurting stomach and said. “Just three more.” “Three more?” Kelly cried. “Three more. And you’ll be getting at least one a day until your bowels get themselves sorted out.” She left Kelly sitting on the toilet as she went to prepare the second enema. “What have you learned?” she asked. Kelly sniffed. “Not to go anywhere with strangers, not to take food or drink from strangers and to stay with my nanny.” “Good girl. Now get on the floor, bum in the air.” The next two enemas were just as unpleasant as the first, but the last one, with various medications added to it, finally soothed her stomach, the pain finally leaving her. She was humiliated, exhausted and naked, but at least she was no longer in pain. Caroline put her facing one of the bathroom’s corners, the discarded diaper between her feet, in case she leaked. She heard Caroline moving about, cleaning things up and then heard her leave the room. Leaning forward she put her forehead against the cool tiles of the wall. She was glad she was not one of those littles who could not handle the adult world, because she knew she could not handle their world. Outside she heard a knock on the door, foot steps, the door opening. “Kelly, come here,” she heard Steven call. She looked around, wondered if it would be okay to wrap a towel around herself. Somehow she did not think so. She walked from the bathroom. Marie was there, as was Steven. Caroline was no where to be seen. “Do you have something to say to Miss Frontè?” Kelly sniffed, feeling tears start in her eyes as she thought about how scared poor Marie had seemed when Kelly had come back. “I’m sorry Miss Frontè,” she cried, “I’m sorry, I won’t be naughty again.” Naughty? She supposed Caroline had used that word during the spanking, and now it jumped to her lips as if the most natural thing to say. “Please take care of her Miss Frontè. She’s had an enema, so make sure to get her cleaned up and rested.” “Yes sir,” she said to Steven. He left the room. Marie came forward and enfolded to still crying Kelly in her arms. “There there, I’m not mad at you, you’re a good girl, I know it.” After Steven coldness and Caroline’s punishments, Marie warmth was irresistible to Kelly her pushed her face into the larger woman’s side and sobbed. She was aware of being bathed, patted dry, and then carried to her bedroom where she was diapered without complaint. Marie sat down in one of the chairs, held Kelly tight in her arms, and sang softly in French. Her head pillowed on the amazon’s large chest, Kelly fell asleep. Kelly stayed close to Marie when they returned to the casino. She tried to tell herself it was nothing, but the large woman’s hand holding her own did make her feel better. However, when she took her seat at the table she was all business. She could not quite forget what had happened earlier. While the padding of the diaper cushioned her bottom, the unpadded backs of her thighs were tender against the surface of the booster seat. She wondered if Caroline was aware of that. The smile she offered as she sat suggested she might be. However the sting on her thighs was a minor thing, nothing compared to the pain she had earlier dealt with. When the cards were dealt the sting faded from her mind. It was a hard game, everyone at their best. Kelly, Otto, Lyle and Conrad took most of the hands, small pots, larger pots, slowly draining away the stakes of the others. The round ended with Kelly taking a big pot with a full house, kings over twos. That took Caroline out of the game. Kelly gave her a smile, feeling as if she had gotten some of her own back. “That is it for this evening,” the dealer told them. Izzy looked up from his small pile of chips. “Looks like I’ll be in for one at least more hand tomorrow.” Kelly was pretty certain that it would be only one hand, unless he was going to simply ante and fold, but she figured Izzy would go out fighting. Charles Wright would not last much longer either. Then it would be the four best players. A gentle hand touched her shoulder. “Let’s go,” Marie said. Kelly let Marie help her from the chair and lead her by hand through the casino towards the hotel. The earlier feeling of comfort she had derived from the woman’s presence had faded a little in the heady excitement of the card game and all her winning hands. Still, she felt glad enough for the hand that held hers. Steven was not in the room when they entered. Marie undressed her, Kelly had given up attempt to help, and then took her to the bathroom. She was put in a fresh diaper before being put into the bed, and she felt too tired to argue and did not even know if she would be awake enough to take it off once Marie left. The day had been so exhausting. Marie did not leave immediately, but sat at the bedside, holding Kelly’s hand, singing softly in French once more. Kelly slept deeply, and if Steven and Caroline made love in his room again, Kelly did not wake.