bbykimmy

I do! But I hadn't logged in for quite some time. I'm also a bassist Not a good one, but I know my way around the fretboard. I'm really glad you enjoyed the journey, thank you for bringing my story back around and sharing your thoughts ❤️ Comments really do mean a lot to me. I hope you enjoy the other stories as well! Hey. Don't feel bad. The whole reason I wrote this story was because I wasn't a big fan of the amount of unfeeling cruelty in the world of ABDL fiction at the time. This story means a lot to me, it's the first one I ever wrote, and I put warnings in places so people knew it was going to get harder. Thank you for the kind words, I'm glad you enjoyed the journey!

You're welcome, Mia. Thank you for inviting me to be a part of this project. I am worried my entry is a little too avant-garde for the audience but I had a lot of fun writing it. I'm a big fan of the noir genre (but it's unreadable now because holy shit racism/sexism was rampant in fiction back then) and painting this story with such a heavy brush was delightful. And for those who don't know, I finished "Life in the Dollhouse". The story in its entirety is available here: https://www.legitfic.com/s/1465-life-in-the-dollhouse

Chapter Two [Ai Sinclair stands in front of the old church on fifty-third, one foot from the answers she seeks and one foot in the grave.] The threads were tight around the church, The Holy Academy, but they were wrong. Stitched together by force, not by nature. I could see the angles everywhere except for a two block radius around the church. Their stronghold. The rain fell like tears from the sky, weeping for the lost souls of the city. Strong ‘mancy did funny things to the weather. One corner of the building was wrong though. The whole place was still dark, empty if you looked through the windows, the For Sale sign in the grass inviting anyone and everyone to save it from its abandonment. It was as lost as so many other souls in this town. My car was two blocks away, tucked behind a building like a hunted animal in its lair. Gripping the gun tightly in my pocket, I stalked the building as though it was an even more dangerous beast, letting my eyes go slack and looking through that corner. Turning my body slowly, I let my subconsciousness find the angle that its threads existed at, the things you could never see when you were looking but invaded the corner of your eye when you weren't. The patches there were wrong. Far more wrong than any other place in the city. Shō hadn't come to my door quickly enough. It was eminently possible that Gus was right, that they'd already won. But how? Why? The world was unfathomably old, the tears were part of the world, unless I was right and this place was truly a patchwork made by a mad god. But that was far crazier than a gargoyle and a goat running a bar with no doors and no windows in literal nowhere. And I wasn't one to turn away from the big questions. Walking through a tear was certain doom. Wisdom said to avoid them, but the doors went to an empty church and this was unmistakably the place. So I walked through backwards, holding my hat with one hand and my gun with the other. [Everything changes.] I stepped from a rainy world of grays and browns into a palace made of pink foam with smiling faces everywhere. There were no silver stars, the preferred symbolism of the Argentum. The floor was soft beneath my boots, water dripping from every part of me. "Oh, someone's so wet!" The words nearly stopped my heart, coming from further in, further down the hall of pink marble and bubblegum bunny sentries with unfeeling, unseeing eyes. I stepped to the corner, turning my body at an angle, perpendicular to the real, making myself infinitely thin in this funhouse. But the voice wasn't for me. She hadn't been speaking to me. "My goodness, you're soaked, Bala!" The name was familiar, deeply, deeply familiar but it was the whisper of a forgotten dream. A cotton candy cloud lost in the waking from soft sweetness to the harshness of the really real. "You like being soggy though, don't you? Yes you do! Yes you do! Because you're a good girl. And good girls are..." "Wet!" The world was upside-down and fragile like a house of cards in a strong breeze, ready to collapse at any moment. That voice called to me from a past that wasn't mine, from a place that tugged at my heartstrings like a shattered promise. I knew that voice, but I knew that I shouldn't. That the entire deck had been arranged to specifically prevent me from ever hearing it, but a bad shuffle from a dealer that wasn't in on the take changed the whole game. I wasn't supposed to be here and I knew it in my bones. "Please Auntie." Another voice. While there was noise, I dropped my waterlogged hat and coat, ditching my boots and socks to eliminate the squelching anathema to the stealth that I needed. "I don't like this. I'll be good, please let me go home." "Oh do we have another volunteer?" The name Bala, the intentional mystery, had stunned me from recognizing that first voice. It was wrong. Like the woman that owned it hadn't slept in a thousand years, like she was run ragged, giving her absolute all to children who would never understand the sacrifice of their parents. It was Aya, but worn thin like a well-loved blanket, threadbare and nearly torn through. "Someone who wants to be like Kione? I think we're ready for another battery out there, but I'm sure we can make it more humiliating. What if we make you..." The second voice, Bala, finished her sentence gleefully. "Work a regular job but everyone always forgets you're a baby until you wet yourself and then they change you and dote on you as the office baby until you're carried home to your crib! Then you wake up and do it alllll again. I know it's what you really want in your heart of hearts! It's what everyone wants, deep down in a place they don't tell the truth about." "No!!" The other girl was frantic, screaming from a primal terror that humans should have forgotten long ago. "Please, I'll be good. I'm sorry I asked! I'm sorry!" "Oh poo." Bala sounded as though she were pouting as I inched closer to the voices. "Why haven't you given up to be baby yet? You want to be baby, don't you Tali?" "Yes, yes I do." The other girl, Tali, answered quickly. Aya cooed at her. "You know what you have to do to show you're baby, don't you? Come on, show Auntie. It will make us all so happy and then you can go to bed." I peered around the corner just in time to see a grown woman beginning squatting, in a dress that did absolutely nothing to cover the absurdly thick diaper taped around her. Her face turned red and her eyes clenched shut, and just as I feared, the seat of her diaper began to expand. "Tali is such a good baby!" I recognized Aya, but her eyes matched the fray of her voice. Dark, heavy purple circles rested there and she reached out to stroke the hair of the girl who was still messing herself as though life itself depended on it. "What are you doing, sweet Tali? Tell us what you're doing." "Goin' poopy..." She managed the words between grunts, her diaper drooping behind her. Aya's hand in her hair glowed, collecting the charge in a way that shouldn't be possible. Charge went into objects so they could be used later. The glow was familiar, that color-that-wasn't-a-color, and it flowed through Aya and into Bala as she brushed the other girl's cheek. Bala was similarly, obviously diapered beneath her shortalls and pink shirt, shivering in pure joy at the energy she was receiving. A soft moan of wretched, innocent-sounding pleasure came from her as tears began to well up in Tali's eyes. "Yes you are, sweetie. You're goin' poopy! And... all done!" As though the girl weighed nothing at all, Aya lifted her to one hip, a hand pressing the mess in the seat of the girl's diaper against her. "And we'll change you tomorrow! Now you get to go to bed just like we promised, nice and safe in your crib! Say thank you!" "No! Please! Please, it's so yucky!" With a tsk coming from her lips, the exhausted Aya began patting Tali’s bottom again and again. "Oh someone's fussy. You want to go be that battery? We'll get you a nice job in a nice, public place. You can get changed right there on the floor in front of everyone, finding out that - oh no, you're baby - again and again and again and just giving us oh-so-much humiliation to feed our princess Bala!" "I wanna go bed! I speepy!" Tali sobbed as she clung to Aya. "I'm baby... thank you Auntie..." The Aya-that-shouldn't-be carried the sobbing girl through a doorway, leaving Bala giggling and alone in what looked like an enormous playroom with every manner of toy, stuffed animal, and adult-sized baby furniture imaginable. All of the building, all of this torn corner of reality, vibrated with the charge - this was more powerful purdormancy than should have ever been possible, but I couldn't deny it. With a hand in the pocket of my loose trousers, I stepped into the room without a plan at all and asked the question. "Why?" Bala looked at me, familiar eyes in a familiar face that was entirely unfamiliar. A girl thrumming with power that wasn't hers, filled with the humiliation of who knew how many acts of depravity. "NO!" Her face contorted in a mask of frustrated, helpless rage that made no sense at all to me. "No! You can't, not again! Not this time! I'm happy! I'm the good girl! I'm the princess! I'm helping people and I'm fixing things and all people have to do is be baby! All they have to do is let themselves be happy!" I repeated myself. The only question that ever really mattered. "Why?" "Because I deserve to be happy! Because I'm a good girl! Because I'm... I'm so tired... why can't you be happy? Even when I try to keep you away from it all, you're never happy..." I loved this girl. I knew it in my heart of hearts. I loved her, I'd lived for her, and part of me knew that I would die for her. Aya was back, looking at me with forlorn, devastatingly tired eyes and I felt the world go sideways. I felt my clothes shifting, my panties unmistakably becoming a thick, puffy diaper inside my pants. There were but precious moments. My left hand drew the ring from my pocket, popping it my mouth and swallowing it to draw that amoromancy charge, enough to stop the transformation. The charge of my love freely given and kept for years in secret from a man that I knew in the depths of me that I'd never see again. Samuel Colt, my only lover now, was drawn from the pocket of my wet and out-of-place gray trousers in this pink paradise, and Bala looked at me with unthinkable shock as I pointed the barrel of the .38 at her. And pulled the trigger.

Academy II By Kimmy "At the end of the world, there will be neither clamor nor calamity, neither echo nor epoch. It will be mired in silence and sleep, in deliverance and death. At the end of the world, there will be both patience and purpose, both temperance and time. Only then will it be graced with eternity, and from eternity, a chance." -The Source, in valediction Chapter One [Ai Sinclair sits in her office, always dark whether or not the sun had set. Piles of papers and books lay strewn across every flat surface available. The desk, the table, even the top of a box that should have been discarded eons ago. Ash and smoke are old friends here. So is introspection.] Reality is a funny thing when you look at it from the right angle. Like one of those creations that look like a pile of garbage, but as you move around it you see an entirely different picture. It could go from a collection of broken bottles to a rendition of the Mona Lisa, or it could go from a pile of ducks in disarray to Supergirl flying through the air wearing a diaper. If you were looking at it from the right angle, it seemed like diapers were around a lot of corners. Like there was some capricious god who ultimately believed that humanity was, in truth, overgrown infants. Toddlers at best. Every cartoon had an episode where the characters ended up in diapers. Every TV show had some story where the main character returned to childhood, or regressed, or possessed the body of their younger self. And they always seemed to involve diapers. For being such a short part of the average person's life experience, the universe itself seemed strangely skewed toward those first few, helpless years of human life. And there were a lot more weird occurrences in the world than the average person would ever believe. I'd seen some strange things in my line of work. I had a feeling that today would be no different. [A figure at the door.] "Miss Sinclair?" Shō Maitland. Our paths had crossed before. He’d left me at the altar. I had thought we were done for good then, but there was no such justice in the world. Trouble followed him, and it was the night he left me that I first saw the world for what it was: paper-thin walls separated us from everything and nothing. Shō's body was a sculpted temple, a testament to his strength and power. Even now, I longed for his touch, though he had left my heart cracked and bleeding like a wounded animal dropped in a vase of thorns, no rose in sight. "You've got a lot of nerve to walk in here, Big Show." He hated that name. My jab was about as subtle as a midnight train in a graveyard of dreams. Ideally he'd just turn and walk away. But it seemed I was short on luck. "You have every right to be mad at me. To hate me, even, but–" "But nothing. You don't have to tell me my rights, Maitland. I'm the detective here." I wielded his last name like a weapon. It should have been mine, after all. I knew where to find the sharp edges. He'd burned any fondness I had for him to the ground that day three years ago. Answers were all I wanted the next day. Answers were all I had ever wanted. It was the world that was short on giving them. Shō had about three seconds before he met the man that replaced him in my life: Samuel Colt. My hand was already gripping the pistol under the desk. "It's Aya." One second left. "She's the new priestess of the Argentum." There were very few things of interest that the man who threw me into the pit of nothingness could have said, the pit that tore open the seams of reality itself, but that was one of them. Ayoka Kanoska. We'd known her before she came into her power, before she learned to cut those threads, before she learned to turn sideways. And the Argentum was the last place reality needed her to be. The Argentum Astrum, the Silver of the Stars, was an occult order that specialized in pudormancy. Plutomancers, kleptomancers, oneiromancers, even dipsomancers - I'd dealt with them all at one point or another in these past three years of enlightened insanity, but purdormancers had a particularly nasty way of turning things sideways. Purdormancy was drawing the humiliation from others and wielding it to shape things to the mancer's will. The Argentum was a nasty bunch and this news lined up with the way the city's corners seemed a little more frayed than usual. I sighed in exasperation. "How'd you find out?" "You're a smart woman, Ai. I'm sure I don't have to spell it out for you." I tried not to be too blatant as I scanned him again. His top half was clothed in the way I expected, a skin-tight shirt that showed off the abs of Adonis with a long jacket that would let him conceal whatever he needed on his person. But his pants - they weren't the skinny jeans I knew to be his favorite. They were baggy things, but even with that, I could see the bulge in his crotch that wasn't his manhood. That telltale roundness between his legs that showed they'd gotten to him. Well, that someone had. Might have been a pornomancer. But he wouldn't have been standing in my office prattling on about the Argentum if that were the case. And I couldn't even tease him about it. If I did, it was just giving the Argentum more power, so with a face straighter than my heart, I nodded. "Don't think about it too much. You came to the right place, much as I hate to say it. We were a good team once, Shō - but this won't be some heartfelt reunion for us. I won't–" I had almost said leave you high and dry but I could tell he wasn't, and humiliating him further - even by accident - would only make my job harder. "–let you down. This is bigger than the two of us, even if I blame you for my tumble into this world." Shō’s Dear John had told me that he left me for my own good, that the world he was born into wasn't the one that I knew to be real. That there were things out there beyond my belief or understanding, and while he thought I could live on the sidelines, he'd figured out that wasn't true. Men. Protecting poor little me and taking away my choice in the process. He should have known that I wouldn't leave a mystery like that alone. I knew he felt bad for all the things that had happened in my life over the years, my slide into that world beneath the skin of the world, but I wasn't going to leave a trail of breadcrumbs to get picked by the birds. I'd follow it right to the witch's house, and I had. "What part of town were they in? So I know where not to start." The Argentum would move the moment they were discovered by another faction, and while a double-fake was possible in this circumstance, it wasn't likely. Maitland had connections he could tap for help. Other than me. That meant I had the element of surprise. "South-Central. Eighteenth and Oak." A more posh neighborhood would have more potential humiliation for them to farm. Which meant they had likely gone farther south, to a more ritzy area than South-Central. "Got a charge for me?" Amoromancers. If I had known then what I had learned in that tumble through dusty libraries that held the lost chapter in the history of darkness, what I had learned from the shops that sold a glimpse of the abyss in the human soul, I would have dumped him before he had ever asked me out. My love for him had fueled him like a nuclear furnace in the heart of a dying star and I had been none the wiser. The affection that grew in my heart made the seams of the city weaker because of what he was. The sound of the ring clinking on my desktop was like a distant echo of lost possibilities. The fucker tossed me the engagement ring given to him when I'd proposed. That was a charge all right. "Virgin?" He only nodded. I hid my surprise like a blade in a sheathe, a skill I'd honed well since that day. An amoromancer carrying a charge this powerful for three years - for a moment, it made my heart ache. That he really had cared. If only he'd trusted me. I stood, pocketing the gun and the ring, and grabbing my hat from the corner of the desk as I walked toward him. It wasn't like Shō to flinch, even knowing I'd had his death in my hand. So he hadn't. Holding up my phone, I waited for him to do something I thought we'd never do again. The love of my life held his to mine, and we had each others' new numbers. "We're closed, Maitland. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." Anxiety crossed his face like a flicker in a dying flame. Barely there, but there without mistake. "You'll take the case?" "If you have to ask, you've forgotten more about me than you ever really knew." Despite his towering height, I guided him out of the room with a hand on the small of his back. Those lithe, solid arms would never hold me again. Locking the door behind me, I gave him a minute to retreat with some modicum of dignity, pretending I couldn't track his every step from the crinkling. [Ai Sinclair steps out into the darkness of late evening. She strikes a match and raises it to her face.] This city was a graveyard of dreams, where hope came to die, its streets a labyrinth with a minotaur on every street corner. If you didn't know how to play the game, you'd get the horns. For most people, it was easy - they couldn't see the threads that stitched their gray lives together, they couldn't see the patches that barely held. Like the world had been sewn together after being ripped apart by childish hands again and again and again. The smell of cloves followed me, the pretty purple smoke curling from the black cigarillo, up and around the brim of my hat like a halo of mystery. Enough to keep those that knew out of arms' reach. Ignorance was a bliss I'd lost three years ago, enlightenment was a Faustian bargain where only the tears themselves won. On the other hand, knowing made it harder to fall into one. Looking at a right angle to reality was a skill like any other - you had to be willing to be bad at it before you could hope to be good at it. And I was good at it. Being bad at it had gotten me into all manner of trouble, the sort of trouble that got a lot of young players in the dark corners of the world's true poker game dead. Those that did survive learned the rules that no one would teach, and the truth revealed itself. Nothing was really real. There was no all-knowing, all-loving god... but there were enough mischievous, selfish assholes out there with enough power to fold reality like an origami gun that shot bullets of creation. [A neon sign after a long walk.] The Null&Void was a nightclub with only one way in: a charge. I was no mancer, but you didn't have to be if enough of them owed you favors. They could make a charged item with time and effort, it was a currency in the hidden places. Tonight I paid with a drawing of a dream pressed to the right brick in the right wall at the right time. Not my drawing, not my dream, and not the mancer’s who paid me with it. Truthfully, I didn't want to know where the dreamtaker got it. Some small ignorance for someone who knew all too much but was forever driven to learn more. I didn't allow myself too many of these little mysteries, but the happy smiles in the rain of blood was better left mysterious. "Can't smoke in here, Sinclair." I wasn't all the way through the wall before Cephas was on my case. Just to be a bitch, I stubbed it out on his outstretched, stony palm. "I'm as tired of telling you as you are of hearing it." "If you say so, Ceph." With a sigh like rocks crumbling from a boulder, the bouncer moved aside, letting me get to the bar. There were as many of my kind here as the other - edgers like me, people who existed at the fringe of the tapestry rather than mancers who sought to bind the threads to their own will. Thankfully Maryam was willing to leave me be that night. Some part of me, the part that had learned to see sideways and around edges and corners that weren't there, knew that these faces weren't ones I should know, that something wasn't right in this place and time... but it wasn't like I could snap my fingers and change it all. Gus behind the bar looked ridiculous as usual, his horns covered by blue pool noodles to keep him from hurting people accidentally, his tie half-eaten. It was a big bite out of the middle, the bottom half of the thing dangling like an empty boot from a power line. The old goat was nervous today. Good. Pulling up a stool, I sat at the bar, looking him in one of those rectangular things he called pupils in those golden-brown eyes. "Nope." He spoke first, a further show of his anxiety. "Not today, Sinclair. I've got no love for you and you'll get nothing from me." If that was the way he wanted to play it, that was fine by me. Rather than words, I spoke with my hands, reaching over the bar and grabbing a glass before filling it from the nearest tap myself. "Hey! You can't do that! Ceph!" I was already seated and sipping with a silver safety pin on the bar between us by the time he finished bleating. Overpayment for underservice. So Ceph did nothing at all, but I said everything in that gesture. He knew exactly what my goal was. Which, of course, was exactly what he'd been afraid of. "I don't know nothing about Kanoska." My reply was simply a raised eyebrow. We both knew that Gus was only here because of the holes. Gus, Ceph, this whole damn building. And if the Argentum had a new priestess after all this time, it was a big clue in a cold case. The goat had already told me he knew what I wanted. Aya Kanoska. Whatever game she was manipulated into playing, that sliver of a girl with a disproportionate slice of 'mancy was bad news for everyone. And it was a damned shame because I loved her once. Love had come easily to me then, in the before. Like it was woven into my being. "I don't!" Gus was still bleating, mancers and edgers alike moving away from us as I took a long, slow drink from the pint. "What the hell do you want from me, snoop? I don't know nothin'." With a thud, I set the glass down and stared into his squares with my rounds. "Then I suppose you're going to tell me something you don't know then. The Star just moved from South-Central. Where'd they go, Gus?" He pocketed the safety pin like it was a serpent, a quick grab on its head and gone before it could bite him. "You paid your tab, not me. 'Sides, you think I want to end up in public squatting down and filling my pants while everyone watches? You can't pay me enough to risk pissing off Kanoska." That was new. Very new. Aya didn't get "pissed off". She was a fae of a girl, dancing on toadstools made of hopes and fantasies. The only mancer I knew that could work more than one kind as easy as you please. The fact that a joyous girl like her was working for something as serious as the Argentum was enough to be worried about in the first place, the idea of her being "pissed off" didn't help things one whit. Turning the glass in my hand, that last few swallows of beer danced inside while my eyes never left his. "You didn't hear what happened to Kione, did you? Trapped in her own body, giggling like a toddler and sucking on anything anyone put near her mouth. Any. Thing. Wetting herself constantly and laughing about it, but nothing but horror in her eyes. People stop, they look, they laugh, and they leave. Sometimes someone will come and feed her, right there in the park, change her diapers, and leave. The Argentum shouldn't be powerful enough for it to last more than a few minutes - forcing someone to charge for you is never worth it - there's no such thing as perpetual charge, everyone knows that." Finally, I gave him a word. "But?" "But she's been at it for three days. Someone takes her home in a giant stroller. Everyone knows it's fucked up, but no one does a thing other than gawk and tease. The cops don’t even get involved. And no one's recharging her. She's just... stuck. Like the Argentum changed the rules. Like they tied her threads in knots and she's a prisoner in her own flesh. And it's not just humans. The humiliators managed to embarrass a clutch of imps. They won. It's over. They're going to stitch the holes. If you don't want to spend the rest of eternity in constant humiliation, you'll turn and walk away. Kione's not the only battery they've planted in town. Whatever they did, they did it. Limitless charge." "You think Null&Void is going to stay safe if they really won? Think about it, Gus. They either sew you up into the nothingness, turn you into humans, or..." The room was clearing out. Rats were leaving this sinking ship, not a single edger or mancer wanted to be within earshot. "You're ruining our biz, Sinclair,” Gravel called out to me from over my shoulder. "Cephas. Tell me where the fuck they are or you won't have a biz to ruin and you know it, pebblebrain." Boulders shook the ground in stomps toward me but the gamble paid off. "The old church on fifty-third." Gus spat the words, a cloven hoof stopping behind the bar. "But if you go in there, you're done. If they know you found out from me, I'm done." "That wasn't so hard, was it kid?" A rocky hand on my shoulder. "Don't come back, Ai. You're done here. You're banned from the Null&Void." "Cry me a fucking river, Rocky." My mood was going the same way as the Argentum, the same way as the world: real south, real fast. Gus wasn't done yet though. "What the hell are you going to do? You're an edger, you don't even have ‘mancy of any kind." "Same thing I always do, Gus. Ask the questions nobody's asking. Find the answers nobody's saying. It's a curse."

Thank you ❤️ I still think that Wendy was the best twist I've done in a story to date. I'm proud of this one.

Go read Breaking the Girl

Be safe on your hike, even if you take 6 months it'll be less time than the cliffhanger in Keeper's Pet! We'll all be excitedly waiting to find out what happens next. Also, thanks from Juno for the shoutout. Personally, I looooooove Wolf Taming and I'm constantly bugging her for more of it. It's my fav story rn.

I dunno if I'm writing again, but it felt really good to actually finish a short story and post it. I started a novel for NaNoWriMo but only got like 3 chapters in over the course of the month - I'm in love with the concept, it's exactly the story I want to tell, I'm just finding it really hard to sit down and WRITE it. Riiiiight? The credit for the concept goes to @QueenJunoKing on Twitter, it's funny I messaged her out of the blue because I liked her writing and we've been friends for over a year now, we talk pretty much every day and share all kinds of fun concepts. We've written a few stories together, but no ABDL content, so I doubt they'll ever be seen by anyone but the two of us. Aww <3, thanks PC! You know I love your work (I am madly in love with Under Lock and Key, so much fun). Thank you for taking the time to give a nice comment! Comments on stories really do mean the world to me. The only reason I kept writing after my first story was community engagement, I just had so much fun talking to people about the story! The thing about these short stories that's so much fun to me is the fact that I never name either character. I barely give physical descriptions - this would be terrible in a long-form story but it's interesting in a short story. There's no time "wasted" on learning who the people are, you learn about them entirely through their words an deeds. This one is also much darker than I usually do - it's pretty heavily implied that he's grooming her for this, there's probably hypnosis and conditioning involved. Oh, and he gets another girl basically as soon as she's locked up in the pet gear.

Thanks to my friend QueenJunoKing for encouraging me to write this, she gave me the initial idea and it just kind of lit my brain on fire. I know petplay isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I hope you enjoy it. -=-=-=-=-=- She trembled, looking at the tangle of leather and rivets, buckles and straps that laid on the bed. Her heart thundered in anticipation, a bird desperately thrashing against the bars of her ribcage. It was something she had dreamed of for so long. She had been playing with him for years, had dropped many hints in that time - he had too. And this was the coup de grâce, the ultimate fantasy. The contract was signed, there was no going back. She was going to be his pet. Forever. Every inch of her skin felt electrified, she wanted so badly to pick up those straps, to handle the harness that would force her to crawl around the house. With an unerasable, stupid grin on her face she squeezed the padded knees and elbows. She had gotten to play with it a few times, but this was different. This was forever. No more working. No more stress. She was giving it all up, signing it all away. The life of a fuckpet, her ultimate fantasy, was less than an hour away. Her only responsibility would be pleasing him - no cleaning, no cooking, no commuting, just love and play and sex. And he was insatiable. They had been living together for eight months now and the sex was even better than it had been before she moved in. A shiver ran through her as her fingers touched one of the buckles. She wanted to wear it now. She wanted him to strap her into it, to force her nose to the ground in the beautiful mask, to draw the moans and whimpers from her, to lovingly humiliate her until she was so horny they didn't even need the lube when he finally took her. With an incredible effort, she tore her mind away from that fantasy, one that had been a reality more than once, and back to the problem at hand. She had about half an hour left to finish coming up with her ten words. Hungry. Thirsty. Horny. Bored. Yes. No. She had come up with six in the past thirty minutes, but that was all she had so far. He was giving her ten buttons to be programmed with her voice, ten words to express herself. In another thirty minutes, he would take her voice. He'd affix a collar to her neck, a new one, a shiny one. Oh how she wanted it. But she also knew it was designed to hurt her if she spoke words. The ten buttons on the board, placed on the floor for her to activate with her elbow - her foot in the bindings - that's all she'd be able to communicate with outside of body language and whimpers, yips, and whines. Biting her lip, she stopped her hand from reaching the button of her jeans. The entire idea of it was so exciting, so exhilarating, that she could barely contain herself. More. She'd definitely need that word. She said it frequently when he was with her. More. She couldn't get enough of him, either. She dropped to her knees beside the bed, her head awash in images of him leading her around, him sitting on the couch and patting his leg, beckoning her to him. Fantasies of just being his pet. She shifted on her knees slightly, rhythmically, the need in her demanding that she move her hips. She had to move her hips. Hurt. Sometimes he went too hard and she needed time to recover after. Tired. She knew that she could convey that one with body language, laying down and curling up, climbing up on the bed and flopping over. She shook her head, scratching that one. She needed the words to be things she couldn't easily make known... Walkies. She giggled to herself, at the thought that "walkies" needed a word when "tired" didn't. But it was cute and she wanted it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the more rational part of herself was screaming that this was important, that she couldn't waste one on being cute... But wasn't that the point? Trusting him to make all the decisions, trusting him to take care of her. That rational part had been screaming when she signed the contract too, but it had also been screaming when she moved in, when she had begun considering quitting her job. She tingled at the thought of looking her boss right in the eye and quitting, telling him simply, "I'm nothing but a fuckpet now, I don't need this job." One more. Just one more word. She heard him walking closer. She wished she had a real tail, one that could wag. "Sweetie, your time is almost up, have you thought of what words we're putting into the buttons?" His voice was the darkest of chocolate, rich and luscious, washing over her, drowning her thoughts. It was so hard to focus when he was around, when that rumbling voice spoke to her. His fingers were in her hair now, touching, stroking. And she knew. "Yes sir, I just thought of the last one." The entire room got warmer with the happiness in his voice. "You're such a good girl." He sat on the bed, grabbing her by the wrist and wrapping an arm around her, sitting next to the very harness she wanted to wear so badly. He pulled her into his lap, grabbing the button panel and fiddling with it. She couldn't help it, she started grinding against him, rocking her hips in his lap, drawing a soft chuckle from him. "Shhh, down girl." The words sent a new thrill through her. "Be calm, this is important. These are the only words you'll have from now on. Forever." There was that word again. Forever. She loved it so much. Never as much as from his lips. The word in her own mind was resonant, the word from his lips was earthshattering. A moan escaped her as she leaned forward, gripping his knee between her legs. The need was becoming an ache. "Sir... " His gentle laugh brought a blush to her face. "Now sweetheart, I know you're excited. We've been building you up to this for a long time, haven't we?" He barely paused for her hurried yes sir before continuing. "That's right. All that training you've done was all for this. Now, when the button lights up, I want you to say the word you want it to have." He pushed it. It lit up. Everything lit up to his fingers, she lit up to his fingers. "Horny." He held his laughter until the button's light was gone, pressing it again. "Horny", the button sounded so needy. She sounded so needy. Her cheeks were warm, her grip tightening on his leg. "Oh goodness, sweet pet. That's the word you think you'll need more than any?" "Y-" He put a finger to her lips. "Shh. No more words from you except what we give the buttons. These are the last words of your life as a person, soon you'll be my precious pet. Forever." Another moan tore itself from her lips, bursting into the world as she shuddered from its exit. "Ready?" The next button was alight moments later. She struggled to find the word. Any word. "More." The button went dark. "Horny. More. More. Horny." He teased her with the buttons, with her own words, her own voice full of longing, full of desire, full of readiness for him. She groaned in frustration, grinding against his thigh, humping him desperately. One strong arm wrapped around her waist, stopping her, holding her firm. "No." An order, a command, and as strong as steel. With a whine, she stopped, biting her lip. She was a good pet, she wanted to please him. She wanted nothing more in the entire world than to please him. She wasn't quite sure when he had become the center of her world, but he was beyond any doubt. "Next word." He spoke firmly. The button lit. "Yes." That word was easy. Her breathing was heavy, ragged as the button echoed her, before he lit the next one. "No." Again, he laughed at her choice. "Oh I see, you want to still be able to say no to me, hmm?" His beard tickled her as he kissed her cheek. "Well it wouldn't be fair for me to censor you now, would it? After all, these will be your only words." "Fo-" Again, a solid finger pressed to her lips stopped her. "No. You have to get used to not speaking except through the buttons, which means no words except what's going in the buttons." The gentlest iron turned her back to face the buttons, his fingers as unyielding as his will. The next one lit. Her mind went blank. She searched for the word... "Hungry." "Oh, someone doesn't think she's going to be fed enough, hmm? Hungry and more. Do you think I won't take good care of you?" She reached out and pushed the fourth button, hearing her own voice say, "No." He laughed and lit the next one. "Bored." She could feel his smirk as he kissed the back of her neck. "My poor pet, bored already. Well, I have so many new toys to give you. Just four more words to go." Lit. "Walkies!" The world shook with his laugh, she bounced in his lap, which drew a fit of giggles from her as well. "More. Walkies!" He tapped the buttons with a smile. "I think you've made some good choices so far. Are you ready?" She pressed the third button, "Yes." A small worry formed that she wouldn't remember which was which, but she knew she'd have plenty of time to memorize them. The next button awaited. "Thirsty." Another. "Hurt." "Oh, my poor sweetie. I'll always take care of you when you're hurt. Better than ever before, my beloved pet. You'll never have to worry about a thing, once I seal you into this... " He shifted, picking up the mask and holding it in front of her. "You want this, don't you?" Her hand moved practically of its own will, smashing the button. "Yes." It didn't convey how badly she wanted it... "More." "More?" His golden, rumbling laughter warmed her inside and out. "My greedy puppy. Only one button left. What shall it be? What's the last word you'll ever need?" The button lit. The whole world became this one moment, where she was giving everything up to him. Her identity, her life, her will. "I love you." Before the button was dark, she was on her back on the bed, his body crushing hers. He was so much bigger, so much stronger. The fingers of one hand wrapped around both of her wrists as he pulled her arms above her head, his teeth going straight for her neck. The primal growl that came from his throat was more than she could take, she let out a long, desperate moan. She bit down on her tongue hard, needing those three words to be her last, her gift to him for all his generosity. And from the grip of his hands, the scrape of his teeth, the weight of his body... it was a gift that he readily accepted. He was terrifying in his precision, her clothing torn from her one article at a time. Always one hand on her, holding her - her wrists, her waist, her chin - as he ripped her shirt away, her bra, her jeans, and the panties soaked with her longing. The urges were growing too strong, she desperately wanted to beg. He did the kindest thing possible, the gag went between her lips, buckled around the back of her head, which hit the pillow shortly after. The rough skin of his fingers split her lips as he took her clit between two fingers, gently, lovingly, tugging ever so slightly just the way she liked. Another moan burst into the world from her throat, muffled by the gag. A line of drool escaped the corner of her mouth, her hips rocking wildly. He laughed, and she heard an unexpected sound. The unmistakable crinkling of a diaper. Her eyes shot wide, her body sitting upright as she looked in surprise. He enjoyed them, but they had never been her thing, she'd worn one for him a time or two, even wet for him before, but she ignored his encouragement to explore them. They were so thick, they made her walk funnily, and it made it harder for her to get the sensations she craved. "Why so surprised?" The amusement in his voice was a new torment. Her mind spun, her hand going to the gag so she could protest. Her head spun from the speed with which he shoved her back down. "Someone didn't bother to use any of her words to ask for the bathroom... and you're going to be in this lovely bitchsuit nearly all the time... so this is just practical." His smirk was that cruelty she craved from him so much, that twisted brilliance that constantly took her by surprise, that tickled every corner of her imagination with its wicked ways. "Forever." The word shredded her resistance, she was barely coherent from the tiny electric orgasm that sped through her. "My pretty diapered pet, I did tell you that you should learn to love them." She was stunned as he lifted her hips, sliding it underneath her. And her head cleared just long enough to sit up, pushing him away momentarily. But she wasn't nearly strong enough to escape him. He dropped the diaper, the pink, fluffy, crinkling thing as he forced her face down onto the bed, running his finger along her glistening sex once more. "Oh now she's just being naughty. I suppose I can diaper you after... " The resistance left her again as she felt her right hand shoved into the leather mitt, the buckle tightened with tantalizing speed. Her arm was bent, her fingers placed on her own shoulder as he cinched another buckle. Her left hand shot out, grabbing the bed, grabbing for anything she could, somewhere in a tortured state between bliss and fear. The left hand was secured shortly after, and all too easily he threw her onto her back, pinning her to the bed with a knee as he began working her legs into the bindings that she had wanted so very, very badly. And she still wanted them. The sensation of the leather on her hands, the smell of it, the way her arms were restricted, this was the stuff of her every fantasy. Before she could finish that thought, her knees were bound, bent, her feet tangled in the straps that went around the ankle, over the sole of her foot. Moving a knee pulled her mitten taut. He had her. She was helpless. And there was nothing she could do to stop him from taping that first thick, fluffy diaper around her waist. She moaned into the gag over and over and over as he rubbed her padded crotch, writhing and barely noticing when he snapped the shiny metal collar closed around her neck. Locked. Active. Moments later she was on all fours - her elbows and her knees, now her "pet feet", the buttons of the board staring at her from the ground in front of her. "Anything you'd like to say, my precious diapered pet?" The board had all the words she'd ever need. Forever. "I love you."

HA. WELCOME TO MY WORLD. I frequently find myself asking, "What's the worst, most awful thing that could happen right now?" I'm cruel to my characters because there is no growth without pain, and a story without growth is boring.

? ? ? ? Poor Kristi. What an awful dream. I love how you're portraying that adjustment period. I hope they mend the rifffftttttt

Don't think I didn't notice that you went with bby I figured you were doing the Appalachian Trail or something equally bonkers lol - I have BIG respect for people who can push their bodies and do something like that, I don't think I could. It's supposed to be a transformative, life-changing experience. I've seen your growth over the course of this story already! You're engaging with your readers, you're passionate about this project, and I'm proud of you for contributing! The fact that you're a fan and were inspired to write your own story because of things I did means a ton to me, so thank you! Not sorry for making you cry with BtG though. Anyone who doesn't cry at SOME point during that book is made of stone. omggg this is like my favorite thing in powerplay. Being forced to acknowledge your position, being forced to say what the dominant wants you to say. It really gets my blood pumping, I love this!! You said at one point that you were concerned that this was just the same plot of "Keeper's Pet" - to that, I say two things: 1) You're totally not. The dynamic of a couple where one partner suddenly has a pet? There's so much narrative potential there and I'm really glad to see another person exploring it. I want to see more of Josh's perspective! 2) So what if you were? Even if you STARTED with the exact same plot, the reluctant pet and the imperfect Keeper, there are SO MANY different storylines to explore. Even with the exact same dynamic between the main characters, they're not the same people, and the story will inevitably flow differently. I'd love to see someone start out exactly the same way, even down to the same opening cookie jar scene, and see how the story unfolds differently with different personalities. I'm enjoying this story, thank you for sharing. The one area I see easy room for improvement on is proofing - when you paste your story in the editor on DD, take a moment to re-read it, make sure your character name spellings are consistent and that your dialogue attributions are to the correct characters. Narratively, your story is a lot of fun, mechanically there are a couple of small things to improve that would make a big difference for smallish effort!

omgggggg a new Keeperverse story!! This makes me SO HAPPY, you have no idea. Pudding pinged me to let me know about this one - I'm still catching up, I just finished reading Part 6 but I saw you're going to poof after finishing the story, so I HAD to comment now! I'm super enjoying this, thank you for coming and playing in the Keeperverse playground! I'm loving this story so far ❤️❤️

Me too tho

I'm at bby-kimmy.tumblr.com but it's pretty dead at the moment. I've had a rough couple of weeks, I haven't been posting to Twitter or Tumblr at all for the past couple of months. Easiest way to find my short stories is through the archive page: bby-kimmy.tumblr.com/archive

If I ever pick back up with writing ABDL fiction, this will be the first stop. I haven't been writing for ages. I put some short stories up on my Tumblr, but even ABDL itself has had less of a place in my life. It slowly turned into more of a DD/lg thing for me, my short stories have been in that vein. My creative energies have instead gone toward my 3D printing and modeling hobby... and I play a lot more video games now. I was thinking about this recently - once upon a time, writing was my only outlet for my Little feelings. The stories I wrote were my own explorations into my own thoughts and feelings - things I often didn't understand myself until the words were written. I got out of an abusive relationship back in 2018, fled the state, cut ties with almost everyone in my life. I now live with Sophie and Pudding, I can be Little any time I want, those feelings are both understood and relatively easy to engage with. Sometimes when I'm having a very tough time, I'll just put on a Little outfit and put a paci in my mouth and not talk while I hang out with people, it's very therapeutic. In some ways, my life is better than it's ever been. In other ways, it's never been worse and it's a heartbreaking tragedy. I have a long distance partner in Lizzy, I have a Daddy here locally that I see pretty often. There is lots of love in my life, many games, room for Little time... but I don't really feel the need to express myself in writing lately. So, I'm okay! And I'm a frequent guest on The Usual Bet Podcast if you're ever wondering how I'm doing! We are releasing a new The Changing Tabletop as well, where I host a game of Microscope exploring an ABDL world! Thank you for your love and concern. I too would love to see a new chapter in this story.

Awwwww I'm someone's favorite character!!! Thank you so much for looking up my story and I hope you enjoy it!

I was honestly expecting this to be the beginning of the diaper content, that Midori's magical girl form would be a padded princess. You set up the red herring beautifully, and as the dominoes lined up, ready to be knocked down... They stood firm. As the embarrassment built, as your false clues fit together - I was disappointed. Not like you'd expect a fetishist to be, no - I was disappointed thinking that it WOULD be the start of the diaper content. I felt like the story to this point was too good to have it go that direction right now. This has been a fun story - unfortunately, I have a bit of a hard time keeping the characters separate at this point because you introduced quite a large cast of characters all at once, but I'm looking forward to seeing them develop. Good job.

Okay, holy moly. You've been raving about this story for WEEKS and telling me I should read it, and I finally have the energy to and HOLY MOLY! This is goooooood. I love your premise, I love your worldbuilding, I love the flow. This is my kinda story. This is more YA/shoujo anime than anything I've read from you before and it's delicious. I love the terminology you've used, I love the anime tropes that you're leaning on... But I gotta say... I have never seen an anime where they ran out to get pizza That's YOU, darling. YOU eat pizza constantly, not Japanese schoolgirls lolol. I can feel the Madoka influences on this, and I can't wait to see where you go with it! Pumped for tonight's episoooooode!

I'll assuage your anxieties on this one. "You don't," Penelope said sadly. "But we're going to see if we can't fix that, my sweet angel." She's going to fix it by being kind and considerate. By building new bonds and starting a real relationship rather than the twisted thing they had before. Penelope finally realizes that Littles have real feelings, real humanity, and that is the first seed of empathy. It's very easy to hate another if you ignore their humanity, if you focus on what makes them "other". It's human nature to categorize, to classify, and especially to remove yourself from that which makes you uncomfortable in others. This dehumanization breeds hate - if you remember that every person, no matter how misguided they seem to you, is a person with a history and a story, who believes in their heart that they are doing what they do in search of goodness... it's a lot easier to love.

https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/64979-choose-your-own-adventure-barbara-davis-why-thirteen/&do=findComment&comment=1542374 There's the ending in question Your point is valid - I guess at the time of writing it sounded like a good time to me lol. Barbara/Tabitha is happy and it's not quiiiiiiite constant? It talks about the intensity tapering off after a while, only to be rekindled... I mean, it's definitely not an "everyone lived happily ever after"... but it definitely is a happy ending.

I love this! Thank you I'm sorry, cliffhangers are kind of my jam lol I agree! Hear hear! Someone should get this author to write more! Also, I love your optimism ❤️ As always, I don't recommend reading ANY of my full-length stories in one sitting. It's REALLY hard on the emotions!! I have a vague idea of where this one is going but even I don't know how it ends!! I'm glad you're enjoying it!! Thanks for commenting ❤️❤️ Maybe if Bree could BEHAVE she'd enjoy it more!!!! To everyone: sorry for the delay! I am going to finish this story, but the S&&P house got a 3D printer and bought myself an airbrush and I've been focusing my creative energies that direction for the past couple of weeks! There WILL be more of this story! Soon(ish)!

I've talked about this subject a few times myself, but I wanted to re-share here. This. "I don't need antidepressants. They'll change who I am, they'll change how I think. Are my triumphs still mine if I don't struggle for them?" When I hit the bottom of my depression, I was contemplating suicide nearly every minute of every day. I vacillated between "quick-and-painless" but knowing that the people important to me might not get the insurance money, and elaborate and potentially survivable but knowing that if I succeeded, my loved ones would be taken care of. I didn't know at the time that the person I was most concerned about was an abuser. Every thought had a dark counterpart. "This is hard" came with "I'm tired of everything being hard. I want it to end." "I'm sad" came with "and I'll never be happy again, I will feel like this forever and always." "I'm disappointed in how I handled that" came with "I'm worthless and no one will ever love me." "I don't know if I want to go out tonight" came with "it won't be worth it, it won't make me happy, I should just stay in." Depression was like this tiny gremlin that lived in my brain and told me lies. My own thoughts were twisted in my head, positive things became negative, seeking positivity became lamentations of futility. But the thing it said most often and most emphatically was. "I should die." Antidepressants made it quiet. All of my other thoughts were still there, but that dark voice was no longer adding things to them. "I'm hurting" could JUST BE "I'm hurting". And it took probably a week before I realized that the gremlin was gone. When I suddenly realized after something bad happened, "Huh... that's weird, I don't want to kill myself." And that shouldn't be weird. Not for anyone. Antidepressants are a correction to a malfunction in chemistry. They are not magic, they are not "thought changers", they don't change who you are. That gremlin is a chemical imbalance that exploits your own pattern recognition abilities, your own self-defense mechanisms, and turns them against you. And I wouldn't be alive without them.

It was only a week between chapters this time!! I thought that was a good goal ? She has one, I've seen it. It's... beautiful in its intensity. ❤️ It wouldn't be a Kimmy story without a hard-hitting emotional lesson grounded in reality.

Chapter Twenty-Six The journey after leaving Fayetteville was much smoother - Kinsley had switched to mostly instrumental music, guitars and synthesizers. They had pulled over a couple of times for a cuddle break on that second half of the drive. Kinsley would pull into a rest stop and unbuckle Bree, scooting the seat back and just holding her. She was thankful for those moments, the closeness that kept the panic away. Kinsley seemed to have an uncanny sense for when it was starting to bother her, offering comfort almost before Bree realized she was uncomfortable herself. Bree didn't bother to ask Kinsley if she could use the bathroom. After the first rest stop, she felt the need... and she let go. The diaper grew warm and Bree found herself idly touching the plastic backing from time to time. In a strange way, it provided an unexpected comfort all its own. She knew that Kinsley would take care of her, that Kinsley would change her. She also knew that Kinsley would be cross with her for asking. This is normal for you now. Bree had never been to Raleigh, but she hated how crowded it felt. The roads felt denser, the buildings more imposing, even the trees felt too tall. She wanted more than anything to be in Kinsley's lap. But now that they were in Raleigh proper, those breaks just to cuddle were much less likely. The warmth in her diaper was fading, leaving it simply soggy. She tried not to look at the world around her, following Kinsley's suggestions just relaxing, resting her eyes, listening to the music. She didn't open her eyes again until the car stopped. The towering, multi-storied brick buildings seemed to hunch over the streets, a dozen window-eyes glaring at her. Everything around was unknown, and felt dangerous. This wasn't safe, and Bree wanted to get out of there, to get back to the familiar. The neighborhood looked like the kind of place where you couldn't trust the cops or the locals - both were dangerous to queer folk unless they adopted you as the "neighborhood oddball". A soft whimper rose in her throat as the music ended, as Kinsley began climbing out of the car. She felt incredibly vulnerable in her barely concealed diaper, in a short dress that looked like it belonged on a toddler. "Climb in the back." Kinsley's tone was clear, this wasn't a request. Bree scrambled, wondering if there was some danger she hadn't seen. A yelp escaped her as the passenger door opened before she had gotten settled. She sat her butt down quickly with a crinkle and a squish, smoothing her skirt out and looking around. At the woman with long, dirty brown hair who climbed into the passenger seat. Her black t-shirt was paint-stained, proclaiming "My people skills are just fine, it's my tolerance for idiots that needs work." The back door beside her opened shortly after, Kinsley hefting a duffel bag at Bree - who could only blink as she caught it. "Thank you so much, Kins." Her accent was bizarre, high pitched and lilting. Bree expected her to end her sentence with Dontcha Know. "Of course, sugar. You're a Doll, and that means you're family." "Well it really means a lot to me. I mean, really. I had no idea that David was going to flip on me like that... " The woman, Jo, slumped in her seat, putting a hand over her face. "Maybe I'm not cut out to live in the 'real world', Kins. It keeps falling apart... " "Josephine Elizabeth." Bree sat straight up at the tone. She knew that tone. But Kinsley wasn't even talking to her. The blonde reached over and buckled Jo's seatbelt, a stern look on her face. "Now you're just insulting me. You think I was wrong about you? That you can't make it?" Bree couldn't help but notice that Jo had started sitting a little straighter as well. "No Kinsley... " That tone. That chastised, sullen tone. Bree had heard it from Faith, from Lila, from her own lips. She watched as Kinsley leaned over, planting a soft kiss to Jo's forehead. "Let's go home. You can stay with us while you get back on your feet again. I know you're ready for the world, my dear - but you're forgetting one of the lessons you learned." Bree blinked, as visions of herself being moved to the cage permanently spiderwebbed across her brain. Of Jo getting her room, of the last vestiges of her being human in the Dollhouse vanishing. She whimpered unconsciously, wanting nothing more than to be held in that moment. Jo sounded unsure. "Perfect is the enemy of good?" She sat up as the car pulled back onto the road. "Life is harder at the bottom." There was an edge to the words, a tightness that Bree didn't recognize. A piece of Kinsley she had yet to see. "At the bottom you have nothing, so what can you use to climb up? It's a lot easier to reach the top if you started in the middle. And the middle feels just as impossible to the bottom as the peak does to the middle." Sabrina didn't miss the backwards glance that Kinsley shot her as they pulled into a gas station. "Peanut butter Snickers?" "You remembered!" Jo laughed, a surprisingly musical sound, the clear tinkling of chimes in the wind. "Yes please!" When Kinsley left the car, so did the remaining shreds of Bree's comfort. "Sorry, I didn't introduce myself yet. I'm having a bit of a bad day, I hope you'll forgive me." Jo turned, facing Bree through the gap between the front seats. "I'm Jo. What's your name?" "I'm Bree... " Sabrina looked down, not understanding why she felt scared of this new person. She seemed nice enough, her smile seemed kind... but looks could be deceiving. "Um, hi. I'm sorry that you're having a bad day." Bree nearly jumped out of her skin at the gentle hand that rested on her knee. Jo's nails were ragged, chipped, her fingertips calloused. "You're going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I'm scared too, but ultimately - I trust Kinsley." Frozen, Bree sat there, unsure of what to do. Outside, Kinsley pumped gas before heading into the station. Jo never let go, never pressed, just rested her hand gently on Bree's leg, waiting. With effort, Bree made eye contact with Jo, looking into those guileless green eyes. She was being completely sincere. She was laying her cards on the table and showing her entire hand. Bree felt the fear that twisted her chest into knots relax, felt her anxiety slip away just a small amount. "How long were you with the Dolls? How long ago did you leave?" A sad smile showed itself on Jo's face. Calloused fingers gave the slightest squeeze to Bree's leg. "We'll talk about that all later. It's not my place right now. Just... it's gonna be okay. Okay?" "Okay... " "What's okay?" Kinsley asked, slipping back into the driver's seat. She tossed something at Jo, then at Bree, who fumbled it and had to recover the object from the floor. A package of... "Jerky?" She cocked her head to one side, confused. Kinsley smiled knowingly, firing up the engine and pulling back onto the road. "It's a great treat for pets." Jo said with a small laugh, shaking her head as she tore open the candy bar. Sabrina's cheeks burned red as the old car rumbled down the road. * * * The entire way to the theater, Lila insisted on having the music from the first Frozen on repeat. Some people found Lila's idiosyncrasies annoying, for Faith it was all just part of the girl's charm. Lila loved with her whole heart, and that love made the whole world seem brighter. Life hadn't always been kind, but the light that Lila shared made it all easier to bear. She couldn't wipe the smile from her face as she pulled into the parking spot outside the theater, when it disappeared all at once. Lila was going on a date. All alone. This wasn't the first time, far from it, but it had been a while. She pushed down her nervousness, not wanting Lila to sense it. Faith turned the radio down slowly. "We're here, hun." She smiled over at her bouncy passenger, a strange mix of hopefulness and fear in her heart. Could Lila find someone as wonderful as Angela? Not possible, Faith mused. No way two women that perfect exist in the world. But she could hope that this Mallory could see what an incredible gift Lila was, her capacity for love. Leaning over, she gave Lila a kiss on the cheek. "Have a good date. Text me when you want me to pick you up and I'm there." "Oh I know." Lila's smile was matter-of-fact, like the concept of Faith doing anything to let her down was completely alien, akin to Faith suggesting that she continue breathing oxygen - just in case. "And how could the date be bad? I'm cute, she's beautiful and looks very cuddly, and it's Frozen! Tonight is going to be amazing." And just like that, Lila was gone, off on her adventure. Out of Faith's range to protect her from a world that wasn't always ready for her peculiar color of light. Lila was ultraviolet, off the visible spectrum, and only a few people could seem to really understand how beautiful she was inside. With a wry smirk, her thoughts turned to Bree, wondering if she was ever that stubborn herself, wondering how long it would take the girl to open her eyes. She reached over into the console, swiping her phone to life. Faith: How is your commission going? Slowly, Faith put the car into reverse - Ange was busy, it might take her a while to respond - she drove the car away from the theater... to the other end of the parking log, out of sight. Best case, she just wasted time watching dumb videos and texting with the most perfect woman in the world. Worst case, she got an early text from Lila because this Mallory just wasn't ready. But she hoped for dumb videos and texting. My Perfect Girl: One done, one to go. This one is going to be very challenging! It's a lolita commission, lots of pleated trim and some fun interfacing! My Perfect Girl: But I'm more curious My Perfect Girl: On whether the driver's seat of the car needs cleaned Instant butterflies. Faith had no resistance to give this time, no hope of keeping the upper hand. She instantly felt about three feet tall, like she didn't belong in that driver's seat at all. Faith: It's clean! My Perfect Girl: So you only wet it? Send me a picture of your diaper right now. The world was spinning, and Faith was caught in the whirlwind. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Faith: I didn't wear one X_X Faith: I'm big! My Perfect Girl: Oh I know you're such a big girl, sweetie My Perfect Girl: And I'm proud of you for always trying My Perfect Girl: But I think we should play it safe My Perfect Girl: And keep you diapered My Perfect Girl: All the time Faith had fumbled to type a reply twice already, but Mommy's messages kept coming. Every new line, every new tease, drove her further and further into that blushy place. The place where Mommy had absolute control. Faith: Mommmyyyyyyyyyyyyy My Perfect Girl: Should we put you in the cute pony diapers or the pink princess ones? Mommy could see right through her. Like she had no defenses. Like she had the keys to every lock in Faith's brain. Faith texted back in a frenzy. Faith: No the pony ones r 2 thick!!!!!!!!! My Perfect Girl: Maybe I'll put you in both of them then and just keep you double diapered for a weekend My Perfect Girl: Maybe I'll decide you're too little to talk My Perfect Girl: And all you'll be allowed to do My Perfect Girl: Is make those cute little squeaks and whimpers that you do Love had many ways and many faces, and as Faith swam in Angie's affection, a part of her mind silently thanked Lila and Kinsley for the gifts they had given her.