Mee

Hello, hello! It's been a while, and first thing's first, the next chapter for Sheltered will be coming soon, if ya were curious. Moving on, I'm going to be adding another story alongside it! What I'm doing though is a little different from usual... I have a few ideas for what to write, and I feel each once has their own fun to writing it, but where it gets interesting is that you are the one who decides! Below are 3 samples, each from a different story. Each one is its own introduction and not an excerpt, so if it gets you hooked, then vote for that one! I'll be attaching a poll which you can use to vote for whichever sample you liked the most. Each one already has a story idea developed for it, so the winner of the poll is what I'll run with, and will continue to write for it. So until you vote, please give each entry a fair chance, then pass judgement.I'll be checking the poll in a few days. Thanks for reading! Entry #1 “Alex, hon? Do you have your bags with you?” “Mom, for the thousandth time,” the Little scoffed. “Yes, I do. It was with me when we checked in our bags, it was on the boat ride over, it was with me when we got off, and it was with me--oh, wait, that’s now,” visibly annoyed, she gestured to the suitcase on wheels next to her. Honestly, sometimes it felt like wasted energy dealing with her mom’s questions at times. Especially now that they were on the mainland, she seemed so needlessly uptight… “I know, I know,” her mother’s inner brows tilted upwards, looking almost apologetic. “I worry, that’s all. I want this all to go perfectly for you… Being here scares me; for your sake and mine...” She quickly side-eyed something that never existed, peering over her shoulder just briefly. “I know you feel that way, but trust me, it’s going to be fine!” Within her limited scope of being a young-adult, Alex paid little mind to the countless giants they passed as she and her mother moved through the terminal with her luggage in tow. “The website advertised it as a school with an extremely high Little to Amazon ratio anyways, so I’m sure the campus will be pretty awesome.” From out of Alex’s vision, her mother twiddled her thumbs in an almost mild panic, almost embarrassingly catching the gazes of those much larger than them; their faces responding with eerie smiles, or seemingly simple grins with undertones of predatory stares… “...And you’re sure everything’s been taken care of?” She tried to keep her eyes locked on her daughter, or anything closer to the ground. “I know your tuition is paid, but you know your dorm and class schedule?” “I’m going to college, mom, not preschool.” Mildly irritated, Alex chose to entertain herself with her phone as they moved forward. Though, that venture died fast when the screen read “No service.” She sighed. As great as the mainland sounded, it really sucked that they didn’t accommodate island services, strangely enough. Probably because there was no need supporting inferior tech... “Not only can I take care of that stuff myself, but yes, they did say in one of the emails that it was all taken care of. They’ll tell me once I get there.” More than the finer details though, Alex was almost shaking with anticipation; finally moving off and on to college! Off the islands to boot! Her whole life she’d been sheltered by the Little lifestyle, but there was so much more diversity to enjoy on the mainland! Yes, she heard about some of the social disparity between Littles and Amazons, but that probably wasn’t too big of a deal… The countless lectures in class about what the Amazons might do to you once you were caught, but Alex knew they were all exaggerations and embellished stereotypes. Randomly snatching a stranger just to diaper them? Alex really wanted to say you couldn’t make this stuff up, but alas... “You are,” her mom agreed, trying to stay on her good side, “and seeing how far you’ve come has made me so proud.” Her words were genuine, but Alex felt as if they were patronizing. “I just want what’s best for you. Sometimes I think maybe the mainland wasn’t the best of choices for schools...” Her quiet remark earned daggers from her daughter. “What do you mean by that?” Alex, clearly offended, bitterly spat. “Are you trying to say I can’t take care of myself?” Her eyes finally gave her mother the time of day, given that her pride had just been threatened. “I don’t mean anything by it. I just want you to be safe, and no matter what you think, the mainland isn’t safe for Littles!” Her mother was suddenly raising her voice, clearly intimidated by only the things that came more than 6 feet off the ground. “Really?” Alex near-hissed with disgust in her voice. “That’s what you’re going to tell me? You tell me that all the time, mom! It’s not like crime doesn’t exist on the islands! If anything, it’s probably safer here!” Countless, passive lectures from her superiors had clearly lost their novelty long ago, and the consistent vagueness of things made it practically impossible to convince her of any real danger. “Alex, honey, you’re not listening!” The pair had finally stopped moving, and their argument became stationed in the middle of an open platform. “The way things work here isn’t normal...” The mother, trying to calm herself leaned in with a whisper. “You need to be on your best behavior here. Amazons aren’t as kind as you think!” Ugh. It was probably more of her fear-mongering just to try and get her to come home. Fat chance that’d be happening. Alex had worked too hard to get this far, and she wouldn’t let someone else’s nerves or lies ruin it for her; even if it was her own mom. “Mom,” annoyed, Alex rubbed her temples. “If it was really that bad, how come you’re only telling me this now? Obviously it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be. Here we are!” Briefly, Alex looked around them; giant poles shuffling by. Her daughter’s counter was clearly dumbfounding, evident by the look on her mother’s face, yet nevertheless she tried to double-down. “Alex, but I have been trying to…!” her mom didn’t seem to have much bravado, her eyes pacing nervously. “We should go… People are starting to stare...” Of course. As soon as she was losing an argument, she tries to change the subject. Sometimes it bewildered Alex just how much her mom thought she could get away with. Nineteen years later and she still thought the same tricks would work… Her mom probably meant well, but clearly she was misguided. “Mom, clearly you have something to say, so come on!” Impatiently, Alex tapped her foot. “Out with it! Let’s go! Why can’t you just be happy for me? I finally get some freedom in my life, and you’re trying to take it away?” Even Alex from the corner of her eye noticed a few legs stopped moving… Her mom was making a scene, after all… Nerves had clearly gotten the best of Alex’s mom, but to Alex she considered it an argument won. She’d poked the obvious holes in her mom’s protest, and now she had nothing to show for it. She almost felt bad. “Please, Alex, we can talk about this later, but we need to go…!” hurriedly, she stayed close to Alex, forcibly trying to move her, as a small circle around them started to be defined by a few more passerby. She’d had enough. Defiant, Alex shook her arm free of her mother’s grip, establishing a new distance. “Alex…!” her mother almost sounded pleading, as if there was some imminent doom looming over them. Every fiber of her being seemed as if she wanted to run, but the one thing keeping her even remotely stable was the desire to move her daughter. “No!” Shouting, Alex turned on her heel. “I’ve had enough. I can get to the pickup on my own! If you think I’m such a kid, why don’t I prove to you otherwise?” Tears in her eyes for a mix of unknown reasons, Alex’s mom wordlessly mouthed something to her daughter, but Alex didn’t care enough to keep standing there. With a huff and a puff she slipped herself through one of the few gaps left in the circle, paying no mind to the murmurs from above. “Alex! Please! Wait!” she could hear her mother cry from the center of the crowd, but as the distance made it harder for the noise to travel. And as Alex weaved through the thickening populous throughout the station, her mom was gone. As the adrenaline started to drain, and she came to her senses, Alex wiped a single tear from her eye. She never liked getting into fights with her mom, because of course she loved her, but sometimes you needed tough love to prove your worth… Her mom would understand someday. Although her phone wasn’t any good for communicating, it still made a great clock. Checking the time, she still had about half an hour before she’d be expected at the entrance. Someone was scheduled to pick her up, and it made her giddy thinking that there was someone waiting on her hand and foot! She felt like a VIP, and it was already a wonderful transition to the mainland. Almost wonderful. The only thing that soured the experience was of course her mom’s little outburst, and a sudden need to pee. Between the high figures, she could just make out the bits and pieces of a bathroom sign. Wheeling her bag on over, she was just about to enter the open doorway when a security guard stopped her. “Excuse me, miss?” kneeling down, the significantly taller guard with her white-gloved hand tipped her black, shiny-rimmed cap to her. “You can’t bring your bag in there.” Slightly intimidated by not only the authority the occupation commandeered, but the size difference as well, Alex in a polite stutter, asked,“W-well, why not?” “Well,” oddly, in a kiddish voice, the guard explained, “we can’t be sure that you won’t do something you’re not supposed to in private. It’s to keep everyone safe.” Not one to argue with reasonable authority, Alex conceded, suddenly looking for a place to leave her bag. “Um, well, would you mind watching my bag while I use the bathroom?” awkwardly, Alex asked. Apologetic, she said, “Sorry, miss. I’m not allowed to handle people’s luggage. Legal reasons and all that. Are you travelling with anyone that might be able to?” Hurt to unexpectedly be reminded so soon, Alex somberly shook her head no. The security guard looked to be running out of ways to help as well. They seemed like they wanted to, but rules and regulations enforced otherwise. “Maybe there’s a nearby Amazon that’s willing to help?” She pointed past Alex’s shoulder, and Alex followed the finger to the passing crowds. Just through them she could see there was a bench sitting in front of an island, and sure enough there were a few people there. Alex sighed, slightly. She wasn’t keen on leaving her bag to a stranger, and in the back of her mind was wondering why the guard may have deferred to an Amazon instead of just another person; implying both Littles and Amazons. “Alright, thanks for your help,” with one last thankful glance, Alex hurriedly turned back to the bench. She wanted to pee soon so she wouldn’t be late. “Uhm, excuse me?” Awkwardly, Alex interrupted the stranger from her passive stares and checking her phone. She had her own, Amazon-sized suitcase and a large purse next to her.The Amazon sitting in her buttoned sweater and long skirt traced the source of the noise with an empty expression, but became all smiles when she could see who had asked. “Hi there,” she gleamed. “What’s wrong, honey?” The use of ‘honey’ felt unsettling, but Alex didn’t have time to argue semantics. “Do you think you could watch my bag for a second?” Gesturing with her head, she looked back to the bathroom. “The security won’t let me into the bathroom with my suitcase.” “No problem!” Gently, her much larger hand went for the bag’s handle, forcing Alex to let go of it, lest she want her hand grabbed too, and with little effort she lifted it like a feather and set it beside her on the bench. It suddenly felt out of Alex’s reach, eyeing the bench height. She could get to it, but not as easily as she’d like. “It’ll be right here when you get back,” she patted it assuringly. It still didn’t sit well with Alex, leaving her stuff to a stranger, but she wanted to say the woman felt trustworthy… She wanted to believe it because it was how the woman carried herself, and there wasn’t too much wiggle room to find an alternative… Rushing back to the bathroom after giving her thanks, there was no stopping her this time. She had no luggage on her, and her shoes tapped across the tiles to the far end. Out of the five, the last one on the far end was finally what she was looking for. Opening the stall marked as “For Little Use,” she stepped inside, though was a bit surprised by what she saw. Expecting to see a toilet, she was sorely mistaken when there was some porcelain stool that looked like the stump of one. No, it resembled something else… It was a, a training potty? A mimic of a training potty a toddler might use, it was still made of porcelain, and did look to have a flush mechanism, but it just looked so...so infantile! From the cusp of the bowl, there was a small sink in it to secure the person-- no, Little, that sat in it. There were designated cuts in the rim for where the legs were supposed to go, and a divider between them to keep your legs from getting any closer than gapingly parallel. Closing the stall behind her, further confused to see no locking mechanism on the door, she made a small prayer that the hinges were trustworthy, and approached the toilet as if it were foreign, because it definitely was. “What the hell…?” Still perplexed, Alex was still wondering why she hadn’t found a normal toilet. Maybe she was in the wrong stall? Eyeing underneath the dividing walls, she could only see Amazon-sized ones, and she’d never fit on those… She stared back at the potty, which was the only throne in this room that’d take her. Mumbles of frustration, she slowly walked over to the poor excuse of a toilet and undid the button to her jeans, sliding her panties down with it. Fully slipped to her ankles, so not to get in the way of the spacer, she sat on the toilet, and was oddly annoyed that the potty fit her near perfectly. She didn’t fall into the bowl, the rim didn’t press into her skin, the leg holes fit her thighs, and she couldn’t press her legs together, as if she didn’t know how to not piss on herself. Staring at the tiles, trying to forget how infantile of a thing she was using, her thoughts were broken by the sound of sobs increasing in volume, and heels clicking across the floor. Closer to where Alex was. Seeing the tall legs underneath the stall, Alex could tell it was an Amazon. “There, there, baby,” in a thick, syrupy voice the stranger comforted the cries, someone totally outside Alex’s vision. “Mommy knew you couldn’t keep your panties dry, anyways! We’re gonna get you in your nice, thick diapies.” The jarring words only seemed to make the sobs louder as something was unlatched from the wall. Thinking about it, Alex did remember seeing a changing table... “P-please! Just let me go home!” Still with inconsolable cries, the other voice begged. Did...did Alex recognize them? “I didn’t mean to! I just want to go back to the islands!” “And then how would I be able to take care of you?” the Amazon countered sternly, then laughed like it were an impossible scenario. Alex could hear something crinkle as it unfolded. “No, I think you are home, sweetie. Now you’ll have a crib, silly cartoons, your diapers, soft and mushy food, daycare, and a mommy! Doesn’t that sound great?” Nearly jumping, Alex was startled to hear a blood-curdling scream from the same person that was crying. “NO!” The room was quiet for a second, though Alex quietly meeped when she could hear her pee sputtering into the bowl. She had no relation whatsoever to this pair, but she couldn’t help but feel involved for no real reason… As if she had a reason to not be caught, awkwardly, even if it wasn’t any real help, she tried to place her hands over the opening between her legs just to muffle the noise even a little. And if she was heard, clearly she wasn’t at the forefront of the Amazon’s mind, because a loud slap followed next, even startling the spectator. Skin to skin contact, and pained sobs afterwards. “You’re definitely going to need some work...” the Amazon sighed, and Alex partly trembled on the toilet, wondering whatever the word “work” could imply. “Y-you...you h-hit me!” the other voice shouted in a shaky cry as if it were in total disbelief. “And I’ll hit you a lot more if you don’t behave,” the Amazon responded sternly. “I don’t want to hear another peep out of you about being an adult, got it?” The other person didn’t answer back. Audibly, at least. Alex could hear some form of rummaging, and then the distinct noise of metal friction. Two talons rubbing against each other, sounding a snipping noise with each close. “W-what are you doing with those? Wait, please, stop, I’ll be good!” “No, no, Abby!” although once cold and commanding, the Amazon sounded horrifyingly concerned and consoling. “I would never hurt you sweetheart! Not unless you deserve it, of course,” she added the last bit so nonchalantly, much to Alex’s terror, and likely her prey. “But Mommy doesn’t think these clothes really suit you. I really doubt what you’re wearing for undies is age-appropriate, either,” she tutted as the sounds of further struggles could be heard, and another slap came from it. “My...my name is Audrey!” From one struggle to the next, the girl tried to find new ground. “Your name,” the girl suddenly yelped, likely induced by further physical torture, “is Abby,” the Amazon spoke cooly, yet like poison. “I’ve been wanting an Abby for a long time now, and I’ll be making the adult decisions here. So you can either know what’s best for you, or we can skip to the hypnosis already.” H...hypnosis? What it would entail was completely unknown to Alex, but the animosity was frightening in its own right. Indistinct, random pieces of fabric from denim and cloth gently descended to the floor, much unlike the forward and assertiveness which was happening above it. Alex wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but she was frozen still on the toilet. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was seeing or hearing. All she could do was remain quiet. “M-my clothes…!” The person found it in themselves to cry again, echoing their moans off the tiled floors and spacious room. “I know sweetie...” the woman sounded as if she solemnly agreed. “I didn’t think they were so great either,” purposefully misinterpreting her words. “Now onto the fun part!” More crinkles could be heard, and using context clues, Alex could only assume she was in the middle of a diaper change, all the while the person being changed continued to stream horrific sobs. All the while, the Amazon seemingly unperturbed by her victim’s pain and humiliation, or otherwise urged by it, hummed in a loving voice, “Abby, my sweet little princess~! Cute as a button in just her dress~!” She dragged out the last syllable on dress, drawing a parallel between her physical and lyrical savagery. After what felt like an eternity, the Amazon happily cheered, “And done!” The supposed pride in her voice only spoke volumes of her lack of care for what the tiny person was feeling. She had an agenda, and nothing would stop her from seeing it through. “But the dress doesn’t cover the...” “Your diaper,” the Amazon both corrected and finished her sentence. “And it’s supposed to be that way. Heavens if you think you’ll ever be able to use the toilet again!” she leaned in for a loud whisper, which is why Alex could still hear. “The only kind of bathroom you’ll be using now is your diaper, and don’t forget that.” A set of bare feet were lowered to the ground. Much smaller feet. Feet the size of Alex’s. They looked to be struggling; supporting a wobbly load. “So I want you to take a good, long, hard look.” Alex’s heart nearly stopped, because the bathroom stall suddenly swung open, and she was brought face to face with the two people in question. “Oh,” blankly, with feigned surprise, the Amazon chuckled as Alex still on the toilet stared at her wide-eyed. She was too scared to be embarrassed by how she looked. “Sorry, sweetie! I just needed to make a point to my little girl over here,” Alex’s startled eyes followed her hand that patted the head of a Little right next to her. And if Alex’s eyes could have gone any wider, they likely would have imploded. In a creamy orange dress, with a dark trim about its edges, Alex stared at the babyfied Little, finding it impossible to notice how the hem of her dress was like an umbrella to the hideously thick, white, plasticy garment around her hips. The diaper glared at everyone in the room with its infantile caricatures, happy smiles and positive attitude, much unlike the visibly distraught and emotionally ruined tiny woman wearing it. Then, suddenly Alex wished she wasn’t sitting on this forsakenly terrible toilet. Instead of her ass occupying it, she wished it were her mouth, because the chilling, striking realization which hit her like a ton of bricks wanted her to vomit everything her stomach had from both today, and yesterday. No, the entire week. In a mumble, murmuring stutter, Alex quietly spoke. “M...mo...m...?” No words were needed further as she stared in disbelief at the woman who claimed to have given birth to her. Trapped in a plastic prison, wearing some toddler’s dress, barefoot, silent tears streamed down the mother’s cheeks; all dignity she once had, totally shattered. All the struggles, cries, and protests Alex was hearing behind the stall. It was all coming from her mom. The thought made her even more sick for some inexplicable reason. Her kin had been abused and taken advantage of. She considered her mom mighty and immovable, even if they did argue, so to see her so powerless… To see Alex’s rock be shattered… She gagged. Completely uncaring of the emotionally wrenching scene, the Amazon looming over the pair looked on with pure fascination. “Abby, sweetie, who’s this sitting on the potty?” Without even looking at Alex, she stared at her mother expectantly. Clearly still shaken, as her legs trembled, her mom tried her best to say, “No...no one.” “No...” It almost sounded like the Amazon repeated the first part of her mom’s sentence, but then it came again. “No,” and it was with almost absolute confidence. “No, no, no. I don’t think that’s the case at all. I think this girl is your daughter.” She didn’t even phrase it as a question. Wide-eyed, Alex’s mom looked pleadingly up to the woman. “Please, no! Not her!” New tears strolled down her cheeks. But they weren’t tears of personal pain. They were cries meant for someone else. Meant for the most important person to her. Her daughter. “Let her go! You can take me, but not her!” The defence she held for herself moments earlier had been totally discarded, and all she housed now was the will to protect Alex. And speechlessly Alex sat there, pants still around her ankles, crying. Why? After how she treated her mother, disregarded her warnings, efforts, and pain, she was still risking her life to save her ungrateful daughter? The questions in her head were already racing a mile a minute, so to have articulated any of that mental jargon into comprehensive speech would have been impossible. Silently, the Amazon continued to stare at ‘Abby,’ and back to Alex. And with each glance back and forth, an increasingly sinister grin overcame her. “Okay, Abby,” kneeling down, she fixed the mockingly short dress. “Mommy’s going to give you a choice. But first, what’s your name sweetheart?” She finally looked to Alex for an answer, not her legitimate mother this time. As if she didn’t consider Alex’s mom a real one anymore. “A...Alex...” the answer although slow and emotionally ruined, came without resistance. The Amazon loomed over her like the sky itself, and to equate resistance to the sky itself falling, she knew it was pointless not to comply. The Amazon smiled dismissively like Alex were an accessory to she and her mother’s interaction, like Alex had no real purpose to be there at all. “Alex, regardless of what happens, is no longer your daughter.” The answer dropped like a guillotine. By the power of words, a sharp and heavy blade had been dealt to the familial bond between Alex and her mom. This Amazon didn’t have the power to separate the two, and yet she did. All the might she had flexed prior to this exchange was reaping the rewards of the fear it had induced. “Because I’m nice, I’m going to give you one last big girl decision. She’s either going to be a stranger, or your little sister.” Logical sense had left both the Little’s eyes, and the only person with any real mental fortitude to carry themselves was the Amazon. Brokenly, Alex’s mother muttered, “W...what?” “Your little sister, or a stranger,” the Amazon repeated. “I’m not going to wait, Abby. Choose, or I will for you.” “Mom…!” Alex tearily shouted her name, hoping deep down that she could somehow fix this. Alex fought for her independence, but something like this seemed insurmountable. No matter how many years she could have prepared and lived on her own, she didn’t think she could handle this. And even as she cried for her mom, she deep down knew that she couldn’t either. While the two emotionally writhed in pain, trying to make sense of the life changing decision formulated in the span of an hour of getting off a boat, the Amazon hummed like a quiz show timer. How sadistic of a person could she be? Was this some kind of game to her? Incredulously, Alex stared at the cause of all this misfortune, finding her intentions impossible to decipher. The only thing that ceased Alex’s hopeless task was when her mother said, “Just me...please!” “Just you?” The Amazon repeated, as if the other choice in her mind seemed much more logical. “Alex will be all by herself, you know. She’s likely going to be adopted too?” Continuously the Amazon egged on, further inviting just as confusing and sickening ideas into Alex’s head. Adoption? Being taken by an Amazon? All on her own? “Just...” defeated, her mom continued, while Alex listened on in utter shock. “Just take me… L-leave her be, please!” The words couldn’t leave her fast enough, and Alex could only spectate, terrified. “I-I’ll be your little girl,” her posture made it seem like she were digesting a poison. “I-I promise! Just leave her out of this!” With each repeated plea, her mom sounded more and more frantic, revealing emotions Alex had never seen in her mom. It was too much to bear. It was tearing Alex apart. “Then prove it to me, sweetheart,” the Amazon said simply, and Alex could see the Amazon do something behind her mom’s dress, and watch as its skirt be bunched up in the back. “I want a nice view of you proving to me that you can be my baby girl. Show me what a diaper bum you are!” Cruelly in an encouraging voice, the Amazon clasped her hands together. “What do you...what do you mean?” Worriedly, Alex’s mom looked back up to the Amazon. “Oh no, I want you looking at Alex the whole time it happens,” firmly, she turned Alex’s mom back to her daughter. Or soon to be former, that is. “Make a nice big stinky for me,” the Amazon smiled approvingly. “Show me that your diapers are more than enough for me to handle. Unless I can handle two potty pants...?” As soon as she started to look Alex’s way, her mom in hushed cries sloppily got on her knees. “Mom, please! What are you doing?!” Finally finding it in herself to look decent, Alex haphazardly lifted her jeans and underwear after standing on the ground, and rushed over to her mom, grabbing her hands. They interlocked their fingers tightly, both sobbing in tears. And as they held each other, what made Alex feel like literal scum was her mom continuously apologizing over and over. “Why? Why are you sorry? I’m the one that’s supposed to be sorry!” frantically, Alex kept shaking her head no to the seemingly impossible scenario, as she watched her mother’s face contort and squinch, and her face grow red as she grunted. It made Alex feel even worse when she could feel her mom’s grip around her hands tighten. All the force she was putting into her bowels reflected through her hands, and Alex felt every single bit of it. “B-be...cause...” Her mom paused to take a few rapid breaths, “Because I love you!” Smiling with tears in her eyes, it made Alex’s lips quiver as she cried too. “I should have taught you better; make it clear that this is what could happen. And if I have to be the final example to prove it,” she grit her teeth, as a sigh of shame, and entire defeat washed over her. “Then that’s how it’ll be.” “That diaper looks awfully clean for a potty pants...” impatient, and a poor spectator to the waterworks, the Amazon rudely interrupted. “Mom, please don’t do this!” Her mom had gone back to focusing on her bowel movement. “I...I’ll go with you! So stop! Please!” “Honey, even if you did, do you think that’d get me out of diapers?” The answer was obvious, depressing, and absolute, but Alex hated the feeling of powerlessness. “The best case scenario is that I use this later rather than now.” Sorrowfully, she looked behind her shoulder for a small moment. “I don’t want to see you like this.” Her matronly attitude was fading fast, and was quickly being demolished into a decrepit and ruined manner. And as if she were mourning for the loss of her own, she said in a strained voice, “You have a life to live.” Her body then really began to tremble, and her bottom shook the most. An involuntary gasp, and sigh overcame her mom as even when Alex couldn’t see it, could hear the diaper expand. And sickeningly the Amazon cheered a “Yay!” during the entire spectacle. Her mom stared through Alex as she was clearly mortified once she stopped shaking. Slumping over, all that lingered was the horrible smell now filling the stall. All at once her shaking stopped, and she looked as if she’d been petrified. Despite all this, the Amazon took a loving whiff of the terrible odor, like it were a mixture of perfumes, flowers, and sunshine all bottled into one. While the two littles had their noses drenched in such repulsive, skin-crawling smells,the Amazon was ridden with pure ecstasy. She was the boogey monster that fed off of nightmares. A sick and twisted sadist that could only sate its hunger by the dehumanization and belittlement of others. It launched a spear through Alex’s heart to see her mom was the victim of it, and it was because Alex was the one who caused a scene. If she hadn’t yelled, protested, and just listened to her mother, maybe it could have ended differently. Maybe they wouldn’t have been noticed, and Alex would have been picked up safely, and her mom would have gone back to the islands like normal. No Amazons, no imprisonment. No slavery. But alas, here they were. No matter how much Alex prayed, she couldn’t wake up from this terrible, horrible nightmare. Holding her mom close, Alex tried to soak up as much emotion as possible, as well as try to forget her mom had just shit a diaper while staring into her eyes. Alex wanted the moment to last forever, because then at least she wouldn’t lose her mom to the terrible giant that seemed to be loving every ounce of their misfortune. No matter how long they held each other, it would’ve never been for long enough, because Alex in a panicked whimper cried as her mom was forcibly taken from her hands, and lifted into the air. “Now that’s what I call a messy diaper!” the Amazon cooed, facing her new daughter, and Alex could now see the handiwork done behind her mom’s dress had been to bunch up the dress and pin it to the waistband of her diaper, coupled with the obvious lump in her underwear. Just so the twisted bitch could see the whole thing happen from behind. “We need to get going now, though! Say bye-bye to Alex!” Situating her mom, the Amazon supported her with an arm, massaging the mess in her pants much to the wearer’s dismay. “This is the last time you’ll see her, so I hope you two had fun. And remember, she’s not your daughter anymore! You’re my baby. Poor Allie the orphan...” she added with a fake sense of concern. “A...Alex,” in a thick voice, Abby called to her former daughter, with a hopeful smile. “No matter what happens, be happy.” “Live.” There was no more room for speech, as a pacifier was suddenly popped into her mouth, and the red-eyed Alex watched as the pair disappeared behind the doorway. Alex tried to stand and follow, but she was so drained from it all that she stumbled and fell. Trying once more, she frustratingly whimpered as she was too shocked and shaken to stand. Why? Why? Why, why, why, why, WHY, WHY?! Angrily, she slammed her palms onto the floor. It hurt, but not as much as losing her mother did. She was powerless to stop the Amazon, and the one person she had in this life had been removed permanently. She’d never see her again. Her mom was no longer her mom. She was gone for good. And Alex. She, yes, she, caused it all. So why? Why was she allowed to get away with it? Her mom tried to play her cards right, but Alex dragged her down in the mud. She was the problem, so why did the gold star have to suffer? The guilt was too much to bear, and she mindlessly sobbed for a few moments longer. As much as she wanted to hope her mom would return, and that this would all be some simple, bad dream, she never woke up. Her whole world had been tipped upside down, and it never seemed to flip back. Her heart hurt with a gruelling pain, as her mother had just been taken from her. Finally finding the strength in her legs, she stood back up. Her eyes traced the room painfully slow, as if she were trying to comprehend the crime scene. It all felt so surreal in the worst imaginable way possible. The pair couldn’t have left more than a few minutes ago, but now it somehow felt like eons. Her mother was taken, and Alex couldn’t do anything about it. Fragments of seemingly pointless notes made by her teachers started to resurface with a chilling severity to them. They will try to adopt you. They will kidnap you. The police will not help you. The last point hurt the most, because having to learn the hard way that adoption wasn’t as uncommon as she thought, and probably neither was the police’s uncooperation. All there was in the room was the noise of an endless drip coming from a faucet. One far out of Alex’s reach. Longingly, she stared at the countless pieces of fabrics which once formed articles of dignified clothing. They laid on the ground lifelessly, all with relative smoothness to their cuts; meaning the scissors had done their job well. Nearly falling over, Alex in a wordless panic leaned on the stalls heavily like a crutch. Using her hands to trace herself along it, she was back in the outside world. Still in shock, she didn’t even bother to talk to the guard by the doorway, and with empty steps looked all around her. There was no familiar Amazon, and neither her mom. They were gone like the wind, and Alex had no way of catching her. On top of this, a new fear seized Alex all over, now knowing what these monsters were fully capable of. It was her turn to act like her mom now, eyeing the many figures with an uncomfortable, overwhelming sense of vulnerability. She wasn’t nearly as safe as she thought. Seeing what she just had in the bathroom, was this how her mom was feeling? How could she have even stepped foot on this place knowing what could happen. How… How could Alex? Entry #2 “Ms.West--no, Ana, ” my supervisor stared me down the eyes with a grave look. “I can’t within good conscience approve something like this for you. It’s too dangerous. Haven’t you considered the risks?” “Sir, with all due respect, I am strongly suggesting that you reconsider your stance on this.” I couldn’t lose my opportunity now; not miss out on something this big. “What this means as a personal contribution to being a Frontiersman and for Interstellar is something I can’t pass up on.” He stared back at me with an unwavering face, hardly different from how it looked a few moments earlier. I almost figured time to have come to a stand still, but the slight rumble and shake of the room, thanks to a nearby transport ship, I was convinced me otherwise. “How many Frontiersmen are there now? Nearly a million?” By that logic, I was a mere bit in the megabyte, but it didn’t change my determination. “I was born too late to explore Earth, too late to explore the solar system, and born too late to explore the galaxy. Within what we’ve explored thus far, we have confirmed zero traces of life. Suitable planets for colonization have already been plucked by China, America, Russia, Japan, Korea, Britain and more. But for the first time, we can finally step out the front door and explore even greater horizons.” “Ana…” he didn’t care to try using formalities this time, years of chemistry making it difficult, though that didn’t stop him from pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can understand your enthusiasm, but you’re an important engineer to your current shipment crew already. Why can’t you be content with already being able to visit a handful of solar systems? Billions would kill for that alone.” The simple fact was true, but it didn’t change the inevitable rudimentary nature of it all. “Sir, I can’t be moving metals, water and food for the rest of my life. I’m more than qualified to move on to something bigger and better. I’m sure there are plenty of people who could fill my current position. We’re talking about making history here! Something a mere fraction of the entire human population will be able to experience within this lifetime.” Every few moments I would glance at his handful of digital pens, laying idle against the insides of his decorative mug, much less his hand actually going near it. The holo-document on his desk shone its blue light ever so slightly on his prickly chin. “Three-hundred, Ana. Three-hundred Frontiersmen get to make this expedition, which is nothing short of suicide. All this is, is just packing a bunch of explorers up on a ship and jump-gating them into the unknown. You’d really want to take that plunge into darkness? It’s a lottery to win your own death!” He wasn’t the first to call it was suicide, and maybe it truly was. Even with that in mind, if I didn’t take the leap now, what could be a chance at meaningful existence would be snuffed out completely. I acknowledged his concern for me, but in truth he wasn’t protecting my heart or mind. It was my turn to keep a straight face, which is why he kept going. “Ana, the teams that they’ve had calculate the risk factors for this sort of mission,” he swiped his fingers in an empty space and a tiny blue holo-document appeared. “Nearly across the board,” to emphasize the point, a few quick swipes from his two fingers showcased the unending span of digital jargon. “Results are at best inconclusive or completely open-ended. The only return they can guarantee for this crew is one based on the efforts of the people riding that ship, coupled with a luck factor not even our most sophisticated AI-units can determine! There’s no rescue crew and limited contact. Once you leave the galaxy, you’re on your own.” Taking a breath, re-gripping the forearms folded behind by waist, I did my best to digest his words, but it was clear my agenda was quickly dissolving any outside forces. “I’m 29, sir. I’ve been with Interstellar since my eighteenth birthday; since my official chamber release. You know it and I know it that there’s nothing left for me. The connections I have keeping me here are solely the relations I share with my crew and you. My actions cannot be selfish when there is no one I would be leaving behind. Quite frankly sir, I have always been on my own. It’s always been about me bettering myself, and this time is no different.” My own words left a slight, foul taste in my mouth, disregarding the crew and longstanding supervisor I’d already spent years with. But in the end, they were just coworkers. Nothing else. “Even if I’m not chosen, I cannot accept a result where I never even tried. I believe my merits are worthy enough to give me a reasonable chance, and I would hope you think the same. Paired with a recommendation from someone of your standing, that only helps all the more.” The small and ragged office didn’t quite reflect his reputation, but that’s because we were constantly conditioned to live in tight spaces. Up until age 18 we will have been sealed inside of one, programmed to be considered sufficient workers. From then on, the longer treks would be majorly spent being on ice, with the only interruptions being brief windows where we carried out our jobs. “But either way, I can’t keep making the same trips for the rest of my life.” I could only hope that on some level I was channeling my emotions, and I had to hide a smile when I could see the walls were starting to crack. “What this means to you, and how willing you are to go for it is something I can’t understand,” he said briefly. Unfortunately, of course he didn’t. He came from the Archaic Generation; a time where interaction existed outside a life support unit before adulthood. He’d never simply woken up one day to realize 18 years of his life had already been spent, but I didn’t hold it against him. I didn’t hold it against anyone. I couldn’t feel anger for something I couldn’t realize the value of. Time is only as worthwhile as you make it. In other words, I hadn’t found a reason to be angry yet. “Off the record, Ana, I can’t condone this and truly wish you wouldn’t sign away your life like this, but legally I can’t refuse you.” He exhaled as the blue light from the document glimmered on his eyes. “Not forever, at least.” My eyes followed his reluctant hand as he grabbed one of the pens and its tip illuminated on contact with human skin. The plastic bulb to the stylus had paused just before it reached the pixelated line. “And you’re sure this is what you want?” “...More than anything.” With a sigh he opened a drawer and put on a pair of lenses. Glasses, I believe they were called. After scanning it over and with a soundless uninterrupted stroke, he signed his name off on the holo-document and floated it in my direction. “Thank you, sir.” The tension in the room was washed away by my newfound gratitude for his aid. “Make no mistake, I don’t support what you’re doing. Or at least I just can’t figure out why…” He pulled the peculiar piece off of his face, and my eyes couldn’t help but follow... “And...would you mind not staring so much?” “Ah...sorry about that.” My eyes tend to get careless whenever he wears those things. They were one of the few relics of the past that made their way to present day, somehow. “Haven’t you considered getting a nanite job on your eyes at some point? With all due respect, aren’t those things an inconvenience?” “There’s a style to them, you know.” He always took the defensive whenever I commented on them… “Besides, everyone tries to hide their problems nowadays and use nanites to fix whatever they don’t like about themselves. Our imperfections are what make us beautiful.” Out of respect I hid another smirk as his words were completely lost on me. But I chose not to poke and prod him any further. “By the way, you’ll have another delivery to make in a week’s time. Use that time to think about whether or not you really want to go through with something like this. Maybe consider your alternatives while you’re on ice.” “Alright, and will do.” I pinched the document and ported it into my armlet’s data storage, causing the hologram to dematerialize. I gave my supervisor a goodbye as the exit door slid open for my departure and closed right behind. People stood shoulder to shoulder and then some as the city echoed with noise pollution. I couldn’t make out a single conversation as everyone’s words toppled over each other. Just when the innocent ear might happen to distinguish a few words from a single person, it’d then be dominated by layers of foreign tongue; Russian, Spanish, French, Mandarin--truly a mix. Through the pod’s glass overhead, and through that, the glass dome above me, it was covered by the flying ships and skyscrapers. If I hadn’t cared to look at them directly, their passing shadows across the floor would’ve been the perfect reminder. Still, it was quite strange to think there was a time when our ancestors only had at most a thousand of these in their lifetime... The telltale beeping noise rang alongside the monorail as the suspended train soon followed after. As prophecy dictated, crowds of passengers trying to exit collided with the ones trying to enter and I managed to snake my way in. Everyone grabbed on to a bar or handle as their conversations carried out casually just like outside the train. I could feel myself longing for a seat to sit in, as only the public trains outside Interstellar’s property accommodated travellers. Rather, everyone around me was donned in the same gray, skin-tight work-suit with an identical company logo printed on the back. Not the prettiest of course, but the suit had its utility and no one was exactly competing for fashion. Living on a worksite that’s the size of a small city meant you weren’t going to see much differentiation in clothing. Not that I cared. I browsed the news feed on my armlet, never really expecting to see anything new. It was all the same. Either reported murder, corruption, typical overpopulation counts or view-bait articles that couldn’t even get the dumbest of people to open it up. They couldn’t even be trying at this point. Surviving Tree Spotted outside Government Domain? Honestly. The last plantlife organism that was spotted was over thirty years ago and it was only a weed. Everyone knows that the only trees the public can see now are the ones in the holograms. Everything on this washed up planet besides humans and livestock has either died off or made itself scarce. It reminded me of when China shipped off the last of its pandas to the Mars preservation as a last-ditch effort. Being only a pawn in the scheme of time, I would never know what the planet was once like, but surely it was never as dreary as this, if our history was reliable. Whether it was day or night didn’t really make a difference. Clouds had long since been the only thing we could see for a while now. I heard it was after the third industrial boom our ancestors really pushed things over the edge. Not like they could have fixed things by then anyways. Neon lights invaded your eyesight wherever you looked, and something was always trying to catch your attention. Mr.Denzel would always say if it weren’t for our nanites we’d be needing those “glasses” things, too. Despite being a business-owned territory, even Interstellar wasn’t shy to let advertisers through its doors. While its population were mostly Interstellar employees, plenty of merchant and retail residents were still making their living off of our paychecks. Despite moving at high speeds, I counted the fifth Coca-Cola ad like I always had on my occasional trip back to housing. A few more stops later and we had finally reached mine. In a synthetically female voice, it sounded, “You have now reached Eden, please exit the doors on your left. Thank you.” Eden. The name felt so cheap and tacky. It was probably the farthest thing from it, despite being such an appropriate name. Right off the monorail I could already make out a few poster bots, clad in the skimpiest clothing their manufacturers could have put on them. Other than their matte, artificial skin, they had been made to capture the ideal fantasy of anyone attracted to the female body. It seemed their breasts were one of their most popular assets, and I didn’t know if it were humanly possible to have ones as large as them… Not without genetic modification, of course.. “Just get off of work? Why don’t you spend some time with me, hm?” One of the bots made a seductive coo with a hint of digital playback towards some guy passing by. Sure enough, he gave her a look that insinuated a vulnerable prey, leading her to grab him by the arm and escort him back to her nest, where only further extorsion would ensue. Artificial or not, excluding the vast minority that actually lived here, including myself, most were definitely visitors coming for pleasure. “Hey sweet thing, how about you?” I could feel the delicate brush of a finger on my shoulder. I turned back to see another female bot staring back at me. Her hair was a neon pink bob cut with bright blue lips, lashes as long as my nails and piercing eyes. She was built to know nothing of the concept of fatigue, flawless in every way with only one directive on her mind. Sex. “Not my type,” I coldly replied. I always tried to avoid these interactions, otherwise I’d have five more blocks of this to go through on my way home. “Don’t be like that, hon!” Her hand grazed my cheek, but I knew it was all a marketing ploy. Every action was calculated, and ironic to think that one of man’s leading technologies was meant to capitalize on the most primitive of things. “I can show you a good time…! Just for you I can give a discount.” She tried to caress my hand, which I firmly pulled away. Of course this didn’t bother her though, as she drew me in closer. “Male or female, I can always accommodate my customer’s desires you know....” Her playful motion to the crotch reminded me why I hated these things so much. The only thing that mattered was getting business and shame meant nothing to them. Hell, they probably didn’t have the capacity to learn it. True intimacy was a dying breed now that these things existed. Why invest time into a longstanding relationship when there’s a quick fix waiting nearby? I kept walking and didn’t look back. “Bye-bye!” She called with a giggle from behind as her voice trailed off. My guess was she already found someone else to try and latch on to. I was just another moneymaker for her, without a face or name. Just like what I was to everyone else in the world. I did better to avoid the catcallers from then on as I passed the familiar bars and sex shops into an empty, slim winding alleyway. I opened the door next to the one with an actual working light. “To think after being gone for this long they couldn’t have even fixed a damn light…” My lobby was a small square space with only a self-service kiosk built in the wall and a set of stairs. Security had always been lax here and that didn’t seem to change in my absence. On the fifth floor and in front of room 537 I opened a wide eye for the retina scanner. “Identity: Ana West. Access granted.” The door slid open and I walked inside, the same lights turning on upon my arrival like they always had. From the entrance alone I could see everything that mattered. My kitchen, bathroom, closet and Virtual Space. Serving as my bed and entertainment, the Virtual Space was thankfully a perk for being a Frontiersman. A luxury anyone with money could enjoy only that I got it for free. “Good evening, Ana! It’s good to have you back!” A blue dot came to life on the panel attached to the wall. “Hi Eva, good to see you too.” My house AI. Granted I’d only been here a handful of maybe twenty times or so in the span of about six years. “It’s been, SIX MONTHS, since you last came home! It is currently MAY 28, 2212. Should I update you on any past news or messages you might have?” My ears always cringe whenever Eva uses numbers in her dialogue. Past the preprogrammed phrases, the sudden shift in tone whenever she tried to pronounce numbers was jarring. I always told myself to upgrade her voice model, but I knew I’d never be around here often enough to use it. “That won’t be necessary. Just prepare the shower for me please.” “Right away.” Upon her reply, like clockwork I heard the shower spring to life. I had already started to unzip my suit. After being back on Earth for a few hours I was already starting to feel clammy. It was weird to think I felt more comfortable on a ship than a planet, or at least this one. Thankfully the suit was full-body, so the feet were built like shoes too, meaning it was one less thing to take off. Dropping the suit to the floor and my undergarments next I stepped into the bathroom. I could hear vacuum installed into the wall panels suck away my clothes. It’d likely be ready for use again by the time I was ready to cycle out the other one. “Thanks, Eva.” Regardless of being a robot, common courtesy was something I tried to apply everywhere. As long as they weren’t trying to seduce me… While I showered, Eva started to play ambient music in the background, which I didn’t object to. Having something to listen to in the background was always nice, as the silence always felt the noisiest. The music died down for a second, meaning Eva probably had something to say. “Should I prepare something for you to eat Ana?” “I’m fine. Just hook me up to the nutrition feed when I go on ice.” “Do you mean cryostasis?” “Yes, I do.” Eva didn’t respond when I could hear the music ease back into its normal volume. When I stepped out of the shower the water flow tapered off into a short-lived drip whilst I grabbed my towels. Wrapping myself, I looked into the fogless mirror as I bunched my damp black hair into something a second towel could manage. Only then did I notice I never took my armlet off when in the shower, but it didn’t really bother me as much as a blunder more than an observation. These things were built to handle just about any harsh weather condition you could put them through. Nearly everyone’s lifeline in the galaxy, it was your ID, wallet, phone, computer and served just about any other use you’d have for it. To be honest, I can’t even remember the last time I took it off. “Eva, send my GATE request form to Interstellar admissions for me. It’s on my armlet.” There was a moment’s pause before she replied, “Done.” “Thank you.” I finished drying off and could see the pair of underwear waiting for me. Apart from what I wore underneath, my work-suit was the only set of clothing I had. Yes there were a few pairs, but they were all identical. The virtual space was already prepped for me when I stepped out of the bathroom. I laid down into the imprint left in the plastic cushions, to the point where my body felt like a plug being inserted into a socket, only I felt only snug and not rigid. The top closed over me as a mask gently pressed against my face. “And when would you like to be scheduled for awakening?” Eva’s voice came from inside the machine. “A week from now.” I barely flinched when I felt the iv insert itself into my arm, given repetition was a powerful drug. The virtual space started to hum ever to slightly, as I could feel a familiar chill growing on me. Each breath became slower and felt longer than the last. Pressed against my eyes was a monitor that I couldn’t tell was just a screen had I known. Already immersed, I watched the loading circle dance across the screen until I couldn’t feel my hands and feet anymore. Quickly the sensation traveled up my spine, until even my face felt like it was fading away. Everything went dark. “Ana? It’s time to wake up now.” My eyes opened, as I was laying down with my cheek pressed into the arm of a couch. I wasn’t tired. No, you never felt tired when you first entered the system. “Did you sleep well? It’s been a while, you know.” “I haven’t been gone for that long you know,” I sat upright on the couch, swinging my feet from off the ground. My hair was still proportionate to my new size. “While six months might be seamless for me, I don’t think the same can be said for you.” I was silent while he sat in a chair from across the room. “But, I know you never come here unless you have a reason,” he pulled out a pair of those glasses things from his suit pocket. It must have been from my subconscious seeing my supervisor wearing them so much... “Or, you’re looking to pass the time… So I take it you want to talk?” “Kind of.” I looked him over to see if he’d changed his appearance at all. Sure enough though he hadn’t changed the simulation much since I was last here. Still in his suit, with brown smooth-looking hair and a leg propped up on the other, he stayed seated in his armchair. “I submitted my application for the GATE expedition.” I wasn’t looking for any praise, or anything for that matter. I just felt like telling him. That’s what these therapy simulations were for anyways. “That’s right. I do recall us talking about that last time.” With a hand supporting his casual posture, specifically the side of his head, he tapped his cheekbone. “You’re happy, aren’t you? That you have a chance at going?” “Mhm, definitely. But that’s just the first foot in the door. No guarantees I’ll be accepted. I don’t suppose you might have any advice for me, would you Claude?” “I would tell you to stay neutral for now. Don’t have any expectations for better or worse, but cherish what you have now as well.” “Neutral as always…” I blew on a hair dangling from my head. Although I suppose it was nice to have someone or something to bounce my thoughts and feelings off of, Claude was more of a filing cabinet that helped me organize myself more than anything. He’d never sway me left or right. “You’re your own person, Ana. Take control of that.” A cup of something materialized on the coffee table in front of me. “Tea?” I asked, bringing the mug into my smaller-than-usual hands. “Your favorite.” Claude didn’t bother to pretend with me by drinking his own. I took a sip and relished the drink at perfect temperature.This simulation was Claude’s sandbox and by extension mine. Even though it was all fake, the virtual space could immerse you on a whole other level, to the point where even though I was unconscious, everything felt just as real. “So how long are you in cryostasis for?” “A week.” I took another sip. “And how long do you want to be here for? A day, a week? Month?” His voice never came off as demeaning or rude, simply monotone with the ever-slightest tinge of interest. And that was another perk being inside of your own mind. Days in real-time could be compressed into hours, minutes or even seconds. Some of the newer models could even slow a second in the real world to a complete year in this one, where you could live multiple lifetimes over in the span of 24 hours. It was hard to comprehend doing something like that, considering how out of place you could feel afterwards; lifetimes that you were the only one present to witness. Often called “Time Disconnect,” what was described was the exact issue; living too long in a timeless space. I always kept the timespace in here one to one though. I never wanted to feel like I was losing or cheating time. “I’m not sure how long I want to be here for. But I want time to pass like normal.” The bright sun flooded the white carpeted room from the large windows. Just beyond I could see other buildings, before there was a glass dome and so much building pollution. This couldn’t have been a recent setting. The 22nd century maybe? No. The 21st? “Is it too bright for you?” Claude could see my right eye wince a little from the light. “No, it’s fine. I like it this way.” Feeling the warm glow on my side was pleasing. Everything in the room was white in some way. The walls, the floor, ceiling, and even the furniture. Accented by silver, everything looked untouched of the outside world. So pure. I looked at my own dress which ran down to my tiny calves. However the only contrast in the room was my black hair and Claude’s suit. I couldn’t remember if it was the same color as last time. “How come you decided to wear a black suit this time?” I quizzically asked, digging my feet into the plump cushions. “An interesting question,” He answered, standing up from his own seat. “Do you not like the color black? Maybe you don’t like how I look anymore?” Suddenly, a blue ripple started from the top of his head as the wave traveled from head to toe. Followed by the ripple, Claude’s figure transformed into someone completely different, until he was an entirely different person altogether. Now his skin was tan with a completely different face and bone structure, covered in blonde shaggy hair, wearing some shirt checkered in dots and baggy shorts. “Better?” he asked in his new, deeper voice. My frown did the talking for me. “How about a form a bit more female?” he said, quickly and cheekily becoming a ‘her’ as his male figure shifted with another change into that of a female, curves forming along his waist, softening of the legs as his--her, thighs filled out just as much as her chest. With darker brown and flowing hair, she was now in a button-up tucked into an ankle-length skirt. “Do you like this?” She asked in a strikingly much more feminine voice now. “Change back,” was all I said, growing impatient. Claude changing into so many things was never amusing. It was just a reminder of how temporary this all was, and it felt as if I was talking to a new person. Soon Claude was back to normal, with the same face, gender, height and hair as before. “Have it your way,” he blankly spoke while he returned to his seat. “You know, you’re so good at changing your own appearance and our surroundings. Why can’t you change how I look?” It was that time to address the elephant in the room again. “We’ve talked about this before. Only you can control how you look in these simulations. However you choose to appear is entirely up to you. You need only change it.” The same explanation was always annoying. His words on loop never changed. Ever since I started going into these therapy simulations, I haven’t once gone into them looking like how I do in the real world. “How old am I this time, then?” I felt tiny just like every other time, only it was a decent medium right now. It wasn’t the youngest I’d ever been in here, but certainly not the oldest either. “If you’d like, here’s a mirror to see for yourself.” I held a hand open and a small mirror fell into its place. “But when I reference your annual checkup records and full-body scans I would say your body is closest to when you were approximately 3,045 days old, or about eight years old right now.” Once again I couldn’t argue with this guess, seeing as he was a supercomputer after all. With a finger I poked at one of my soft rosy cheeks to confirm for myself. Being drastically regressed like this didn’t affect me so much anymore. Not after it’d happen so much. While I didn’t know how old my body would be I at least had some expectations now going into this. It wasn’t ever an inconvenience, since Claude could accommodate me in any way I needed, but it was puzzling nonetheless. “This likely has to do with something in your past. Maybe family, perhaps? My database references a few thousand pieces that might give some insight if you’d like.” “Don’t even bother.” I sighed. While the majority of your childhood was spent in a box, there was a brief window right before it. I tend to gloss over it though because of how little I know of it. Regardless, I couldn’t remember anything of my childhood, only when I was a kid housed in one of Interstellar’s orphanages. The memories were probably somewhere in my mind, but neither Claude nor I had the money or power to access them. Memory retrieval technology did exist, but it was reserved for only government officials or society’s true elites, both of which I did not belong to. “Regardless of those issues though, I want to remind you of the progress we’ve made already. It’s good for you to talk like this to someone.” “Uh-huh.” I wasn’t even looking at Claude. The look on my face was an open book at this point, just as unconvinced as was my supervisor earlier this afternoon. “About this GATE expedition,” Claude started to switch gears. “The probability of return is either unknown or close to zero. Do you still want to go knowing this?” “I do. I can’t take doing the same job over and over without going anywhere.” “And you’re willing to risk your life for that? To feel fulfilled?” “I’m not happy now.” came out in a dejected voice. “I have no friends or family. It’s just me, you and Eva.” Not that the latter hardly counted. Claude was the one I talked to the most and even then he was just a digital being. “And what about your supervisor and crew? Haven’t you been with them for a long time? You wouldn’t miss them if you left? They wouldn’t miss you?” “Not enough. I think both ways beyond being on a first-name basis we’re just coworkers. Or they at least aren’t enough to make me stay.” “Have you ever considered finding a significant other then? Maybe it’s romantic satisfaction you’re lacking?” It irked me whenever we revisited topics like this. The answers would never change and the record would stay on loop. Sometimes I felt like the hardwired robot. “There’s no one here I can be with, and I’m sure your database can support that. Everyone at Interstellar has work on their minds. Me included. People my age now are either already settled with someone or find the sexbots more appealing.” My words may have felt like they were with malice and bitterness, but it became something I’d grown to accept. “To find love I’d probably have to leave Interstellar, and that’s something I’m not prepared to do.” “So you’re at a potential impasse, it seems?” “Guess I am.” I cupped my head in my hands, slouching in between my legs as they stood on the couch. “But is your solution to fire off into space? Hoping to find a solution to the problem by moving farther from it?” “I don’t know.” My brows furrowed toying with the question. Every once and awhile Claude could have me doing a double take or take some serious contemplation. “But I know that whatever I need isn’t on Earth. Maybe even the galaxy for that matter.” “And if you don’t find anything? The success you were hoping for? The intimacy you want to pursue?” “Then that’s it, then.” I could find a much better answer than that. Likewise, it was another rare moment when I could keep even Claude quiet for a few moments. “Would you like any more tea?” It was his sign of shelving the discussion. “No. I think I’m ready to go back to sleep for a bit.” “Should I put you into cryostasis again?” “Not yet. I want to fall asleep on my own here first.” “Very well.” A blanket and pillow dropped into my lap while Claude excused himself from the room. For all I knew he got rid of his physical body the moment he stepped behind the door, but I didn’t care enough to check. Right now I was more focused on getting comfy. I could hear the rummaging from the next room over; clinking of glass cups and whatnot. Apparently my subconscious was fond of white-noise, because hearing someone do cleanup in the kitchen was enough to ease me down. Again, silence always was the noisiest. It was almost strange in a way; falling asleep while asleep. I watched the canvas-white clouds stroll by the buildings while I drifted away for the second time, only at my own pace now... Entry #3 “Hello~ again my favorite little munchkins!” The tour guide dressed in her bright red lipstick cheerily sounded off through her mini microphone attached to a speaker on her waist. “Again, Libertalia would like to thank you all for participating in one of its many enriching and wonderful tours. We’re always interested in letting in Portal Littles, so if by the end of this tour you are interested in a longer stay, please don’t hesitate to speak with our support desk!” The way she feigned her upbeat attitude was pathetically obvious in the eyes of the many visiting Littles, but especially Dawn. Even still, her upbeat attitude only added to the layers of mystery this dimension had, and admittedly aroused her morbid curiosity. The Amazonian woman had taken them quite a distance around the large city, though relative to Dawn’s size it may as well have been an entire state in itself. Given the brief mentions of politics along the way though, it pretty much was anyways. Nevertheless, Dawn was still trying to fully grasp that she was spending a portion of her college break in another dimension. Admittedly, it was sort of on a whim. Then again, it wasn’t. In fact, the tourist agency had come to her. All it was, was a seemingly harmless postcard in the mail, and of course you’re going to double take when instead of it being junkmail it’s an offer to visit a totally different dimension. Looking back on it, it was kind of luck in itself that she even read the damn thing, much less take it seriously. After drinking a few beers and a ‘why not?’ and ‘what the hell?’ later, she figured she would see how deep the rabbit hole went, but never expecting to get what was actually advertised. People practically three times her size, coexisting with people just about hers in a separate, humongous dimension! Looking back on it, just about everyone in the tour group needed a good hour to fully digest that part. The realization was jarring; finding that you, an adult, who sat at the top of the social food chain, was now suddenly kicked back to the bottom by a dangerously large margin. Seriously. Dawn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she saw her first “Amazonian” toddler, who had a few inches on her! Yes, no matter where you go here, “Portal Littles” feel incredibly small. And that’s what she was. A Portal Little. Anyone about her size here was considered a Little. Grown adults that never seemed to look taller than about 5 or 6 feet. That’s how they described it at the briefing, at least. But if you asked Dawn, she’d say only 5. And not like she had any hard evidence, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she were a little shorter now since crossing the portal… Crazy and unfounded, she knew, and especially impossible to tell with these staggering size comparisons to giants, which of course would make it impossible to tell whether you had a few less inches or not. Their tour guide, Stacy, started speaking again. “In fact, if you would like I can take hands right now for those who’d be interested?” She looked to be eagerly waiting for countless takers, but not a single hand was raised. “D’awwwh, come on guys, don’t be shy!” She snickered. “I know there’s a few of you who are interested...” Still, no one volunteered. How could she expect someone to trade their livelihood so willingly? People who have spent 20 to 30 years of their lives, still underway in a dimension they knew as home; how could a 3 hour tour convince them to throw all of that away? It was probably part of her job, but the attitude she had certainly wasn’t. Dawn looked at her from the way back of the group with slightly narrowed eyes. Was she stupid? “Suit yourself!” She huffed and puffed. “You’ll have a chance to change your mind by the end of the tour. And let me remind you to please stay close! If you get lost along the way it’ll bring up some...complications.” It was the one time she sounded as if she were intentionally hiding something, and given that she was the one person everyone here could consider trustworthy, it was a little unnerving. “Tabith--Mommy, please! You can’t do this to me! I have a job, a home, a car, a boyfriend; you can’t take that away from me!” A clearly distraught woman sounded as if they were on the verge of tears, which had a few foreign heads turn their way. It was one of the glaringly unpleasant parts of this dimension. A woman maybe a little taller than Dawn stood shakily in front of the giant which towered over her. Despite her moderate lipstick, modest eyeliner, well-done contour, with her hair tied into a neat, clean bun, it came as a sharp contrast to her bright blue denim overalls with a shamefully obvious bulge hidden underneath. What’s more, it looked as if she were wearing a giant ladybug backpack, but it stopped seeming that way once you could see a long strap from it feed into the Amazon’s hand. It was a fucking leash. In spite of their wonderful technology, architecture, ecosystem, environmental policy,and healthcare, this was the one thing that ruined this dimension’s perception of paradise. Dawn watched on with a sense of guilt and sorrow as she didn’t move any further. The guides were explicitly clear not to interfere with stuff like this, as it was just “how things worked here.” Dawn didn’t know what scared her more: the fact that people like this couldn’t be saved, or that anyone that tried to help couldn’t be protected. People here were encouraged to be bystanders, and that only magnified the corruptness of it all. Now she could at least say she’d been to the Twilight Zone… “Now, now, my little tot,” the ironically plump woman knelt down to face her new charge a bit better. She looked like a predator sizing up its prey, clearly for sport, as it looked as if she’d long since won the chase. “I think it’s high-time we put that all behind us now, hmm? I’ve got big plans for my special little girl, and they do not involve anything as worrisome as adult responsibilities.” She ruffled the top of her hair, which made the Little take a few steps back on reflex, accompanied by a whimper. This clearly annoyed the Amazon though, as with a sharp tug on the child leash the woman was thrown back forward a few steps and involuntarily fell on the Amazon’s knee for support. “Whoopsie! Those diapies sure give you a waddle, huh?” As if the sadness were seething through her teeth, and the woman’s cheeks looked hot, she helplessly pleaded. “Please…!” The Amazon only sighed though, dismissing the girl’s emotional ruin. She hoisted her into the air and had a firm hold on her, with the Little flailing her legs, shouting for help. “I figured I’d at least give you a chance to walk on your own, but at this rate the adoption centers will be closed before we even get there.” She suddenly gave an annoyed look, and you could hear the sharp slap of skin to skin contact. She then looked away for a moment then back to her, as if tragedy had befallen her charge when she wasn’t looking. “Aww, what’s the matter sweetheart? Why are you crying? Is that wittle laxative from earlier upsetting your tummy? There, there, we’ll make it all better soon...” As the helpless Little whimpered, the pair walked off, fading into the crowd, whilst everyone in the tour group wordlessly watched them walk away. “What the fuck even was that?” “They were actually serious about kidnapping?” “Can they really just take people?” “Hey, they, they can’t do that to us too, right?” “Now, now, everyone!” Stacy shushed the frightened atmosphere with her still upbeat tone, as if the horrifying display hadn’t even fazed her. And in all honesty, that could very well likely be the case. Whether she partook in such inhumane practices or not, living in a society that normalized it was sure to desensitize you. Though, Dawn was curious to see how exactly she’d try and address what they just saw… So much for her hopes of volunteers. “We have plenty of other sights and shops to see, so we need to keep a tight schedule! Come along now!” She beckoned to the group like preschoolers, and a few pairs exchanged awkward glances, trying to digest how she’d totally disregarded the public kidnapping. “Uhm, Stacy?” Dawn called from the back of the pack. Surprisingly she was heard, as Stacy turned her head. The way she smiled was almost unnerving. “Aren’t we gonna talk about what we just saw?” Dawn didn’t know if she really was stupid or just a terrible liar. Her response was stupefying. “See...what?” The way she drew out her response was a testament to her obliviousness. “That someone was just kidnapped? That Amazon just took a person! A...” what was it again? “A Little!” The existence of two separate terms was terrible in itself. It proved there was a social hierarchy in all of this, which made the problem so much worse. “Oh!” She chuckled. She chuckled? “You mean that adoption? I mean, I suppose she was acting a little fussy, but other than that…?” The way she curiously smiled, as if Dawn were the fool for pointing it out, simply made the Portal Little drop the topic from there. It was almost a sixth sense, triggering when you interacted with only the most ignorant of people; the kind that spewed words like airhorns and filled their ears with cement. It was another endless rabbit hole of bewilderment, equating kidnapping to “adoption.” “Oh! Look at the time! We already a few minutes behind schedule. Come along, everyone!” She waved her hand and set forth their march, with most people certainly caught in a mix of emotions. As well, the Littles seemed to be sticking a bit closer together than they were before… As nice of a place as Libertalia seemed, excluding their babying culture, it was a bit hard to really enjoy at times when the tour guide leading you through it all had a gait two to three times as large as yours. Her lack of consideration was admittedly surprising, given how she like many others seemed to view Littles as borderline children. You’d think they’d be given a little more patience with the faster walkers. It was a mystery why she was still treating them even like pseudo-adults when taking her personality into account. They were all creatures of the Leviathan; beasts withheld by the rules of law, which even then seemed to be such a loose restraint. “And if you’ll all look to your right, you will see one of Libertalia’s finest parks; free to the public at any time of the day!” In the middle of the city it seemed like somewhat of an oasis; a large patch of green grass, trees, a fountain, and of course a playground, all sanctioned by stone walls which were as tall as Dawn, so in other words the perfect height for an Amazon. It was another unspoken, annoying undertone to this society. Yes it had the glam and glamour; all the bells and whistles, but all those benefits were geared towards Amazons. For Christ sake, even the hotel room she was staying in was meant for an Amazon! When she wanted to go to bed, use the sink, brush her teeth, she had to move around her personal footstool, everso “generously” provided by the hotel. So to call this place wonderful was unfortunately a great matter of perspective. From the distance she could see another infantilized adult going down the slide. What she hated to admit the most was that there were accommodations for Littles here, only that they were intended for an age bracket of a much more childish mindset. That seemed to be the Common Little’s struggle here. They were shunned for trying to tread where the Amazon’s might, and thus were like a bunch of circles jammed into a square-socket as they try to fill it out like their diapers. Dawn wasn’t going to claim she knew how everything worked here, but the signs on the surface were telling enough. “Alright, everyone, please be extra careful!” Right as they reached the end of the block, Stacy spun around to face them all, looking stern. Dawn rolled her eyes. They went through the same damn routine each and every time they crossed the street. Did she think they had personal chaperones their whole lives before coming to this dimension? “Be sure to look both ways before crossing the street, alright? Now come on, everyone, grab a hand!” She was the first to start the chain only she saw the unnecessary purpose in. Begrudgingly the closest tourist had to take her hand, and then the next closest to take theirs, and so forth. Even Dawn did so with another guy seeming equally as annoyed. Naturally the first time she said this everyone thought she had a few screws loose, but it was the first of many signs that she truly did consider them as something less of an adult. That, and she’d already kicked a handful of people off the tour for not listening to her condescending ways. Yes, she was difficult to work with, but the embarrassment and hoops were enough to endure if it meant being able to experience a different dimension. She thinks, at least. “Alright let’s get a move on!” She made an exaggerated turn and glance to first her left and then her right, then like a livestock crossing they marched across the street. As silly as it was though, there was some solace in that a united front kept the Amazons from trampling over you. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something Dawn could deny as intimidating. Everytime she made a close call by colliding with the shins and knees of one, they’d give the same kind of smile that repulsive woman from earlier would. She’d try to usher along, but their gaze would linger from behind for an uncomfortably long amount of time. “Oh honey, look! It’s a group of Portal Littles!” Dawn’s unfortunate ears picked up the conversation parallel to them on the wayside. The excitement in her voice sounded chillingly ulterior, given what they’d just seen. Dawn didn’t know whether it was from paranoia or not, but the tiny hairs on her stood upright. “How would you know that? Don’t all Littles look the same?” Dawn tried to keep looking forward. She wasn’t keen on being a conversation piece, especially when they probably knew very well she could hear them, along with many others. Then again, it was probably more along the lines of that they didn’t care. “Just look! See? That’s an official government tour guide! Since when do they do tours for natives? And see that? They don’t have any parents!” Dawn tried to walk a little faster. She dared not look back at them. Eye contact was the last thing you wanted to make. She’d had her fill of awkward exchanges for one vacation. “Oh! And that one, see her?” It could be anyone, just relax. “Which one?” God, they couldn’t actually be fucking scouting right now, could they? They can’t take foreigners, right? Right? “The one with brown hair, wearing the jeans? Such a cute bum, too!” Dawn nervously panned her eyes to the left, then right, locking eyes with an unfortunate soul, though ashamedly feeling her heart beat a little less once she knew it wasn’t her… Something similar must have been going on in the woman’s head though, because the brunette in jeans seemed stunned as she looked ahead, obviously trying to dig herself deeper into the pack. She had been listening too, and looked a moment’s away from crumbling if they got any closer. “Ooh, why haven’t we gotten a Little yet, James?” The female Amazon sounded frustrated as her golden prize seemed to drift away. Dawn silently rooted for the fellow tourist as she could see her keep moving to the front. “They’re opening that new daycare a few blocks down from the house, anyways! Come on, don’t you think this is a sign?” It was a mix of anger and fear to hear herself be regarded as goods you could simply go and “get.” It further solidified all the worsening conclusions Dawn was reaching in this place. “Martha, I know you’ve been wanting one, but...” The way he tried to diffuse the situation obviously wasn’t out of sympathy for the poor Little that might be enslaved by his wife, rather, a desire to maintain the “happy wife, happy life,” mantra… “We really haven’t planned everything out? There’s plenty of agencies to adopt, but we need furniture first, don’t you think?” ‘Martha,’ the wife of the couple Dawn kept listening to, even ignoring Stacy’s spiel over, went on to scoff and say, “You say this everytime!” And if only he could keep saying it for just a little longer… Were they really going the same way? “I want to grow our family, James, and you know we’ve been talking about it for months now. Don’t you think it’d be nice?” Even if it wasn’t Dawn’s place to answer, no, no she didn’t think so. “There’d be a little tush toddling around the house; someone to dote on, care for. Didn’t your mom say she was looking for grandkids, anyways? I want to be a mommy, honey! And I’m sure you’d make a great dad, too!” ‘James,’ Dawn thought it was, simply exhaled; the kind of exhale that Martha could consider a strikingly positive one, and Dawn the exact opposite. “I suppose we can start looking to adopt.” A happy, yet sinister squeal escaped his wife as her husband apparently said all the things she wanted to hear; a beautiful symphony directed by the tongue and mouth, though to Dawn a screechy, rough and scratchy jargon of displeasing cacophony. And like that, it was predetermined that at random some poor soul would be abducted by these two maniac “aspiring parents.” “I love you so much! I just know we’ll be great parents!” She giggled, while Dawn gagged. “Oh! But I want to get a Portal Little.” She sounded oddly adamant, and Dawn felt herself tense up a little. “I don’t see why not, but why’s that?” “Think about it, honey,” she started to seem somber, though Dawn regarded it as one of many masks the beast could portray. “Haven’t you heard about their dimension? There’s no Amazons! All the poor things...who’s supposed to take care of them? What happens when they need to be fed, clothed, changed, cleaned...” Each and every supposed problem she listed off seemed to have dropped the weight of the world on her shoulders more and more, as she slowly talked herself to tears. “What if they have a nightmare?” Dawn blinked her eyes. That. That’s what puts her over the edge? The Amazon mindset couldn’t have been more ignorant to the world of “Littles.” She hated using the term, because there were no “Littles” where she came from. There were just people. “Honey, I’m sure they manage just fine though...” Yes, James, they most certainly do. “You know that’s not true!” Martha was starting to sound more and more emotionally invested. Just how passionate could the women be here? “Don’t you see how native Littles are here? It makes me worried sick when I see one without an Amazon, because they won’t have anyone to fall back on when something does happen to them. They’re just barely getting by! How do you expect an entire dimension of them to do just fine?” Dawn was ready to rub her temples, this was so idiotic. She wasn’t totally focused on what was happening in front of her though, because she realized a few seconds too late that the person in front of her had stopped and soon so did she once she collided with them. Stumbling back, she fell onto her bottom for a moment. Obviously, she was fine, as she tried to stand back up. “Oh, sweetie, are you okay?” An all too familiar voice started to speak with urgency, and sounded to be getting terrifyingly closer. Before Dawn could fully react, a pair of Amazon hands were already setting her upright. The grip was like iron, but was somehow a soft, gentle touch. A padded prison was the best way she could describe it. Dawn worriedly looked back to Stacy and the group, which seemed to be viewing another landmark, meaning Dawn at least had some time to finally shoo these two away. She turned her head back to who she imagined was Martha, now seeing her for the first time. And it was likely her paranoia, but it was as if she could see the woman’s eyes twinkle as soon as they stared into each other... A light red head of hair, ending at an upright curl along the edges, reaching just above her shoulders, she wore a not too bad looking dress which reached her feet, and unfortunately because Dawn couldn’t ignore it, somehow contained her Amazon-sized breasts. Seriously, it was like she was sporting two Little-sized heads. The inner tips of her brows were pointed upright as she was obviously worrying over Dawn’s wellbeing, which was certainly doing well without her. “Uhm...I’m fine, thanks.” There wasn’t much gusto to her voice. Frankly she was a little afraid to talk back to an Amazon...and unfortunately after seeing that business woman from earlier, she believed the fear was well-placed. Even still, the woman ignored her as she could feel herself be pat down, likely getting the dust and dirt off that was never there to begin with. “Promise no boo-boos?” Martha asked with a smile. “Nope. None.” Dawn answered much more plainly. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” She looked curious. That was the last thing Dawn wanted. Attention here was a dangerous thing, and she highly preferred keeping her head down and feet close to the ground. “Oh! Is this it right here?” Her eyes followed the obvious tell stuck to Dawn’s shirt; a sticker with Amazonian-grade adhesive, clearly labelling Dawn’s name in big, bold letters. “DAWN.” She had tried removing it earlier, but the thing wouldn’t budge! Every day if she wore something new she’d need to get a new one, and unless she could get an Amazon to remove it, she’d just have to hope that she didn’t like that outfit too much… “Dawn, that’s a very pretty name!” No, really, is it? “It’s very nice to meet you, Dawn,” she carried on the conversation anyways. “My name’s Martha, and this is my husband, James!” Dawn practically felt like a child the way she infused such enthusiasm with the most simple of facts. Her husband truly did look like the peak of Amazonian genes, what-with him standing tall, clearly with a decent amount of muscle, and short, blonde hair. Unlike his wife, he didn’t seem to be fawning over a complete stranger, other than looking on curiously. By extension, it was a little frightening to think what might happen if she got on his bad side... “So, a little birdy told me that you’re a Portal Little, huh?” What did it even matter? Dawn tried to take a step back at subtly as she could. “Y...Yeah. What about it?” “Well, how do you like it here?” She gave a sincere smile, but it only put Dawn on edge even more. “It’s, uhm, colorful. Really, colorful.” “I’m happy to hear that,” she chuckled. “What’s your favorite part?” Were they seriously doing twenty questions right now? She had no desire or want to be interviewed by some woman looking to shop for a foreigner, but was admittedly afraid by what might happen if she try to cut it too short… “The vegetation.” It was the fastest thing she could think of, though not a complete lie, and trying to sound sophisticated. Maybe if she set herself apart from this woman’s delusions she might get out unscathed? “Oh, I like the trees and plants, too.” But did she really? It wasn’t exactly uncommon for an adult to pretend to take an interest in a kid’s likes, which was a strategy Dawn had a sinking feeling was being used against her. “We have a biiig garden at our house!” The way she stressed the size came along with expanding hand gestures. “That’s, er, really great. Homegrown food is always nice.” Dawn glanced behind her, hoping the group hadn’t left her behind. This was getting a little too close for comfort. “How long have you been here for?” “A week...just about.” Only now was she starting to think telling her all this information might be a bad idea… Though, how incriminating could her likes and dislikes be? “Today’s my last day.” Thankfully, she almost added. Had she been put under the spotlight like this any sooner, Dawn didn’t know if she could keep it together until the end of the trip. If she could fall under the Amazon’s radar so soon, then that’d mean there was plenty of more time to happen again... “Oh, really?” She almost sounded disappointed. Dawn smiled a little, still playing to the opposite end of the spectrum, quite happy of this fact. “Yep! We’re on our final tour, then we leave in the morning.” “Do you not think that it gets lonely, though?” Dawn raised her brows. “Lonely how?” “Not having any Amazons there? It’s only Littles, right?” “No, it’s neither,” Dawn sharply corrected, seeming borderline offended. “There are no Amazons or Littles. Just people. We all get along fine without the sort of practices you guys have here.” “But who takes care of you?” She genuinely seemed not to get it, and that annoyed Dawn even more. It’s like she was filtering out anything that didn’t agree with her sense of bias. Maybe if she weren’t looking through such a rose-tinted glass, she’d find that all Littles aren’t as one-dimensional as her ignorant people come to think… Of course all of this made her bitter; only able to think of good comebacks rather than saying them. Dawn considered herself smart, but she wasn’t brave, not at least in the face of two giants. And next thing you know, she’d probably start asking how she gets to the bathroom on her own. That’d be a whole lecture in itself. Needless to say, she wasn’t keen on sticking around for that part. “Listen, really, I don’t think we should be doing this,” Dawn tried to put the brakes before she said something she’d regret. The way the Amazon cocked her head to the side, looking innocently confused really helped seal the deal. “I’m not interested in comparing dimensions. You clearly have your views, and I have mine. It was nice meeting you, but I really need to get going now.” Dawn didn’t wait for an answer, and was honestly a little afraid of the consequences as she spun on her heel and moved back in with the group. She took her first step, second, then third. So she really could just walk away like that? She grinned a little, feeling an insurmountable confidence boost. Maybe Amazons weren’t as tough as she thought? She snickered. It took a few moments, but Dawn was lucky to be reunited with the group that kept marching onwards. Meanwhile, Martha and James lingered there for a few moments longer as she got back to her feet with a sigh, brushing off the front of her dress. ”You alright, hon?” He asked compassionately, then eased off the pleasantries when it wasn’t about his wife. “She didn’t seem too friendly...” “I’m fine,” she weakly smiled. “I just think she was just a little scared of me… Where she comes from there aren’t any Amazons, after all.” Somberly, she reflected on her last comment, probably in a way Dawn would’ve despised. Before she could watch the girl go for any longer, she spun to fully face him with an exaggerated, selfish pout. “But you saw her, didn’t you? Ugh! And I thought the brown-haired one looked cute! Dawn looked so precious I can’t stand it! All the cute little things I could do with that hair… She looked like a porcelain doll! I wish we could’ve adopted her...” She looked once more at the one who got away, and was already feeling the return of a misery she’d just forced a lid over. Sometimes life truly just wasn’t fair... James remained quiet as he passively tapped his foot, thinking. “You never did ask her directly? There’s still time, you know?” Martha was still quiet. She’d never felt so attached from a mere glance, and severing such a bond was too painful for her to bear. Is that why Amazons were always so insistent on adopting on the spot? She hated telling her heart no, as it was in the middle of its own tantrum, and it pained her to no end. “Well...we could always just take her?” Martha then despite the dreary mood, stared at him, almost incredulously. “She was hanging at the back of the group, and people do it everyday? I can’t imagine it’d be hard since that’s how most adoptions are done nowadays.” Strangely enough, her husband’s suggestions actually made his wife seem hopeful, but then she looked crestfallen again. “No, that wouldn’t be right. Maybe if she were a native, but we don’t know what we could be taking from her as a Portal Little...” “Didn’t you say it yourself? It’s a dimension of exclusively Littles?” “Yes, but...” “Didn’t you also say that you wanted to adopt her? I can’t imagine a world run by Littles is exactly paradise, hon. I’m sure with enough time anybody could come to love a place like Libertalia, even someone like her. Not to mention she’d be a lot safer here than where she’s coming from now.” They were both quiet for a few seconds. “How...how about we take some time and get to know her for the day?” “But didn’t she say she’s leaving tomorrow? I don’t think she was very happy with me either...” “Martha, you’re much more likable than you give yourself credit for,” he chuckled. “We’ll have her back where she needs to be if she does say no, then.” She still seemed on the fence, and he desperately wanted to give her clarity. “Hon, I can’t guarantee she’ll say yes, but I want to give you a chance at this. I have been a little apprehensive about having a Little…” his hand suddenly found hers, “but if it’s something you really want, then I want it too.” He looked at her with rock-solid determination, and it was enough to crush her indecisive-self entirely. “Oh, James!” She pulled her husband into a tight hug, then looked back ahead with a little more excitement. He truly was the wind beneath her wings, and whenever the sun may not shine, he’d be right beside her like a glowing beam! “Let’s hurry before they go!” It wasn’t a sure shot, but the opportunity made her want to stay hopeful. She didn’t know how, but she was positive she could convince her! From all the parenting books she had read, she knew it was never an easy adjustment, for a Little, but there was something that compelled her to feel so certain this was destiny. Fate was telling her to take a chance, and she not only wanted to bring happiness to herself and her husband, but as well to a new and special member in the Teller household! Dawn was still in the back in the group, trying to shrug off the weird experience she had just had. Seriously, she’d have a treasure trove of weird things to tell her boyfriend about when she got home… This kind of place was a once in a lifetime experience, meaning she only wanted to see this kind of place once only in her entire life. “Hey, were you alright back there?” Surprisingly, it came from the brown-haired girl, the one in jeans, with also the apparently cute butt… “Yeah...thanks for asking.” As if the fear were still sitting on her shoulder, she peeked behind her once more, and thankfully nothing tipped her off. “The Amazons here are fucking crazy...” “I’ll say,” she sighed. “As soon as I heard them talking about me...” she shuddered. “Can you imagine what they must do to people like us here?” “Unfortunately we’ve already seen some of the stuff they do...” Her eyes wandered to Stacy’s back. “Can we even trust our own tour guide?” “Your guess is as good as mine. I think I’ve had enough hand-holding for every time I want to cross the damn street.” They both shared a laugh as they kept moving. “I don’t think we’ve met, yet? Well, I mean I think we did when Stacy made us do that stupid icebreaker at the hotel, but not, like, officially, officially.” “I’m Heather. You?” “Dawn. Nice to meetcha.” “So what’s the reason you’re on this tour?” Dawn was the first to ask. “Call me weird, but, just to see if a place like this really existed?” She didn’t look so sure herself. “I thought I was reading some tabloid or something when the flyer came in my mail. I really must have been pretty dumb to follow up on it, not thinking of it as junk mail right from the get-go. How about yourself?” Dawn merely laughed. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing, just that our stories are pretty much carbon copies of each other. I had some time off of college, so I figured why not?” “Ooh, college girl, huh? What’s your major?” “English. Partly because I’m a fan of literature...” she almost seemed sheepish over her guilty pleasure. “What do you do?” “I work at a restaurant as a waitress. Nothing too special about it,” she smiled, seemingly content, but Dawn couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, as if she were showing off. “What college?” “One in Massachusetts? Where’s the restaurant you work?” “Cali,” Heather blinked, and soon her friend did too. “It’s weird, but I guess it kinda makes sense anywhere in the world you could cross through the portal...” “Yeah...” Dawn thought for a few seconds. “Definitely...” “Anyways though, I have had plenty of my fill for this trip. Yeah, it’s nice and all, but there’s too many people at home I’d miss, and I can do without all the predators more than twice my size...” “Totally. My boyfriend probably won’t believe half the stuff I have to tell him from this trip. And if he does, he’ll think I’m a complete maniac for going in the first place!” “Right?” Heather nodded in complete and total agreeance. “It’s like that one saying. What is it? If nobody is around to hear the tree fall, did it actually? That basically sums up this vacation experience.” It wasn’t how it went verbatim, but by no means was Dawn going to judge her for it. It was more her own peeve that picked up on it, though of course she’d ignore them. She was right, though. If you weren’t around to experience something like this, how could you believe it secondhand? “Hey, so, what were those two people talking to you about?” “You saw them?” “Er, yeah… Sorry I didn’t step in. They were checking out my ass and all...” There was a moment of silence, then they both laughed. “No, it’s fine, I understand.” Still, Dawn didn’t like to think how she would’ve been reacting if she hadn’t gotten away so smoothly. Depending on how things went, the difference between a bystander or an active participant could have vastly changed the outcome. “I fell over and the female one was acting like I practically broke my leg.” She could still feel the phantom pats all over her body. “That, and I guess she was a little curious about our dimension.” Hopefully that’s all it was. “They didn’t say anything about me, did they?” The stupid laundry list of questions she was asked by the Amazon came to mind. “No, I think you’re in the clear,” Dawn smirked. She sighed in relief. “That’s good. Still, I can’t get over that. Like, really? Making tiny adults babies forever? Or at least until you get sick of them? How does shit like that even get popular?” “Again, no idea.” Something strange suddenly popped back into her head. “Actually, they were talking about how a daycare was opening near there place, and how it was a ‘sign’ to adopt. Do they really have places for babified Littles?” “Or even worse, a place for Littles and actual babies...” They both seemed to be contemplating equally as heavy thoughts. “Ugh, I’m so done talking about this stuff. Mind if we change over to something a bit more, like, cheery?” For once she looked fully ahead. “By the way, I think we’re kinda lagging behind. Maybe we should pick up the pace?” “Sure, let me just grow another four feet and I’ll get back to ya on that,” Dawn lightheartedly jabbed. It felt nice to finally have someone to talk to this trip, even if it was on the last full day. Heather stole the lead as she walked a little faster, and Dawn took her next step forward, already priming herself for a little jog, but her heart skipped a beat once her next step, expecting to hit the ground, missed somehow quite poorly, lazily launching her leg down. Having an obvious doubletake, only then did she process the shockingly fast motion which had her whisked fully into the air; countless, many feet into the air. She yelped from the surprise alone, and her shout got Heather’s attention, who expecting to find her at her height stared wide-eyed at the spectacle as she tilted her head back and upwards, in what could only be complete and total fear. H...huh? Why...why was Heather so far away? Why was she so far off the ground? Before she even realized it, adrenaline was seeping into her veins, and it terrified her because her body was realizing a threat before even she could. Did someone pick her up? They had to, otherwise she wouldn’t be so high off the ground! She flailed her arms and legs helplessly, as she was faced away from the perpetrator and was trapped in their soft, yet firm grip. “Heather? What’s going on? Please!” Frantically, and descending into a maddening panic, she shouted her newfound friend’s name, who when turning back simply looked to tremble as she backed away. Why wasn’t she saying anything? She backed away from the evil Amazon Dawn still had yet to see, and backed away from Dawn. But what could she do? A Little taking on an Amazon? Even beyond the lawful restrictions of something so foolish, the biology didn’t exactly argue in the dwarf’s favor either. And clearly Heather realized this as well, as though she trembled and started shaking, something finally must have clicked for her, because she turned 180 degrees and bolted. “No! NO! PLEASE!” At the turn of a dime her worst fears were being realized. She kept wildly trying to turn her head, so much that her neck might snap; hoping to identify the threat. It was too much to process, how a complete and total stranger could instantly condemn her current way of life and jam-pack her into something much more demeaning, devaluing, and dehumanizing. Her heart was ready to burst from the sheer shock of it all. Teary-eyed she kept calling, screaming for help, and it only became worse when the one holding her turned in the opposite direction and by proxy so did Dawn. Full-blown streams of tears rolled down her cheeks as she was so easily whisked away from what she thought was assured security. Her life flashed before her eyes; saying a goodbye to all that she had known as adulthood, her old dimension, friends and family. All of it; gone, in one simple fell swoop. “Please, please! Don’t take me!” Her thick voice trembled and struggled to make coherent sentences. In the frantic and reckless pursuit to survive, all she could maintain were her worried and tear-filled pleas. “I’ll do anything, so just let me go, please! Please! PLEASE!” She didn’t even know who she was crying to for mercy, because the weight of the world had hit her so heavily, she stopped processing it altogether. Every moment she stay kidnapped, it was another that meant she stray further from the group; the only people that knew she wasn’t of this world, who had a place, and a life in a totally different dimension. It was almost funny, in a sick and twisted way; how quickly the psyche can devolve in such a short amount of time, given what can be perceived as life-threatening circumstances. Dawn didn’t think this person wanted to kill her, but certainly wanted impose life-changing circumstances upon her, hence the manic panic. As if it’d protect her, or more so that she couldn’t handle it, she sealed her eyes shut, crying harder and harder as she felt the rise and fall of every step her kidnapper took, meaning there was more and more distance between them and salvation. She pushed, shoved and kicked against what held her, but it may as well have been trying to move a mountain. She heard the swing of a door; they entered some kind of building; one further degree of separation that made her panic even more. Then they seemed to stop moving. She was still most certainly being held, but she finally had a place to sit, as she was being pressed into something large and soft. And as everything seemed to stop, except for her tears, she didn’t feel a hair touch her head, and that’s what scared her the most right now. It became the common dilemma of whether or not to fear the punishment itself, or the unknown amount of time it would take for it to strike. Her throat started to hurt, as she couldn’t will herself to beg any further, but for some, irrational reason, she figured if she did stop, then it truly would be the end. “Please...please don’t do this to me…!” Dawn finally opened her eyes, and beyond the tears she could see she was being pressed into not an immovable anchor, but in fact the combination of a woman’s torso and bosom. An Amazonian one, at that. She nervously bit her lip, mutely looking around, seeing that the situation was just as terrible as she had feared. But when she looked up, it was the worst, most terrible sinking feeling she could ever experience. Trapped in its devilish claws, she’d been abducted by Satan himself. “Have we finally finished the waterworks, sweetiepie?” Somehow Dawn found it in herself to keep whimpering, as she looked at who had taken her, and sentenced her to an unspeakable fate. “Wh-why? Why are you doing this?” Her red lips formed a smile, as she looked down on the distraught, ruined Portal Little. The way she smirked, it seemed as if her extra chin did as well, and Dawn could feel the rise and fall of her massive chest, attached to her massive, husky, plump body. Her orange, ginger perm went horribly with her entire look; the exact kind of person you would imagine to be a kidnapper. She adjusted her circle-rim glasses as with her other hand, a long-nailed finger tapped Dawn’s shoulder, who kept wincing with each, innocent touch, but it still made her cry. The demeaning attempts to calm her only made it worse; feeling the bounce to the woman’s knee, as if her hysterics over being kidnapped could be solved with some simple and fun gravity. Clearly she looked beyond Dawn’s cracking composure though, as she went on to coo, “Oh I just knew you were the one at first sight!” The Amazonian stranger fawned and fawned, whilst Dawn further and further felt herself drowning in the recesses of her own mind. “You look like a doll! And from now on you will be! What’s your name, honeybunches?” Then she chuckled in the same, syrupy tone she’d started with. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. From now on you’re going to be Abigail.” She didn’t even pose it as a question, or fish for confirmation. She set a fact into place; carved it into stone. Dawn was speechless, as her worst expectations were being met in full. “Who even...” her voice was quiet, panic-stricken. “Who are you?” “From now on I’m mama, my little baby!” The excitement on her face was close to driving Dawn to madness. A set of fat, wet lips made a mortifying noise as they pressed into her bare forehead, leaving behind a sickening wetness where they touched. It was all happening too fast, as with each and every demand this woman made, she could feel a hammer driving a nail into her; pinning her exactly where this sick and twisted person desired her. She had no name; not one that Dawn deserved to know. No. All she needed to do was recognize who her new “parent” was. But Dawn was too broken to try and resist logically. Bargaining was the only thing on her mind, because if not that, then she would truly have nothing left. “Please...just let me go. I promise I’ll do anything, just let me go…!” “Really? You mean it?” The Amazon looked closely at her with a scrutinizing eye. Dawn, dumbfounded for an endless multitude of reasons, rushedly nodded her head, unsure whether or not to believe in the woman’s promise, but damn-well willing to try. Dawn could almost squeal, and find for once a happy reason to cry as she was set back onto the ground. Was it...was it really that easy? Home! She could go back home! Trying to forget such trauma, she already spun for the door, just now taking stock to realize they were in some sort of public bathroom. “Abigail!” the woman shouted, and Dawn oddly enough freezed on command, despite very much not being Abigail. “We made a deal, didn’t we?” “Y...yes...” What did she want? Wait, why was she calling her Abigail? She looked back to the door for a brief moment, longing for the freedom that was teased right before her. Could Dawn make it for the exit if she just kept running? The woman looked like she had some weight to her...and that massive bag she had could probably slow her down, too… Was it worth squandering her good graces, though? “I let you go, now you need to do a few things for me, sweetheart...” The way she smiled unsettled Dawn immensely, but gulping, she slowly agreed. “Come a little closer,” she beckoned with a hand, and on shaky feet Dawn managed to come a little closer, despite every fibre of her being telling her to make a break for it. The massive bag she noted from earlier was set onto the ground, and it very well looked like it could have been a duffel bag, it was so large. The Amazon got on her knees, and looked to be fishing through it. “And don’t think about making a step for that exit, young lady, or else you’ll have already earned your first spanking.” The threat Dawn had no doubt was sincere, but she was still beyond confused. If she had been let go, why was this woman still acting like she was her guardian? “Ah! Here we are~!” What she produced sent a chill down Dawn’s spine. It was a white, plastic rectangle; folded nice and neatly into a commercialized form. And to ensure no details were left to the imagination, the Amazon happily fanned it out, and Dawn quaked further and further as she fully saw the undergarment in its entire, infantile splendor. “Do you know what these are, Abby?” She asked in a motherly tone, and Dawn quietly pleaded no. She pretended as if she answered. “That’s right! They’re pull-ups! Pull-ups just for you! Aren’t you special, huh?” Slowly, but in a quickening pace she shook her head more and more. “P-p-Please, n-no…!” Dawn had become too much of an emotional and mental wreck to coordinate herself properly, she tried to turn around, but instead fell on the ground, whilst her tormentor watched with sickly enjoyment. “Aww, look at my little tot! It’s okay, honey, I already planned to keep you as a toddler, anyways...” She started to scream once she took hold of Dawn’s ankles, dragging her closer across the tiles. In two simple strokes her shoes were off, and next were her socks so easily plucked off. Apparently her constant cries were starting to get on the woman’s nerves though, because looking aggravated, Dawn grew vocally limp when a sharp slap collided with her thigh. She sobbed, feeling as if she’d just been charged stiff by a static shock. It came with such force, it was as if her very core was struck. She maddeningly looked to the woman. “Now that is enough, Abigail!” The violent woman hissed. “I tried to be very gentle with you from the start, but if you’re going to throw a fit over every little thing, I’m not going to be patient with you!” It all suddenly clicked for her. This woman never intended to let her go. They’d never even made a deal to begin with. She was still very well-within this porker’s grasp; dancing in the palm of her hand. This whole charade was all one big game to her… She was just amused in trying to force Dawn into her own submission, and by the looks of it so far, she hated to acknowledge that she was winning. While Dawn thought there might still be a fighting chance, this demon was busy fitting out her ultimate demise... “Now are you ready to listen, or should we move onto that spanking?” Dawn became wide-eyed, unable to imagine the physical force that this woman could pack behind an open palm. It didn’t matter if the punishment were childish; it was a threat of genuine pain. If a slap to the thigh could make her blubber, she couldn’t imagine she’d walk out the same person after a full-blown spanking… The exit already felt so distant now, and everything was quickly reaching an emotionally exhausting point, she’d been expended far too much to fight both battles of escape and preservation, and bitterly found herself needing to make a choice. Dawn merely nodded her head, with her now-messy hair hanging lazily with her downward gaze. “Good.” She smugly smiled. “Now you can prove it to me by taking off those pants of yours.” It was all expected, and the worst was how it was going to happen by her own hand. She was approaching an inevitable demise, and she was powerless to stop it, and in fact become part of the destruction itself. Her final line of defense to her dignity, she tried not to cry too hard when she undid the single button, then finally the zipper. Though of course, she still wanted to try. If there was a voice left in her, she felt compelled to use it. “P-p-please. I just wanna go home!” “Should we switch to diapers then? Is that what you want?” “No!” Dawn quickly shouted, then started to moan and quiver over her reaction. She was trying to negotiate over something she’d been involuntarily subjected to; fighting for agency that’d been unrightfully taken from her. Nevertheless, her jeans fell to her ankles, and her final line of defense was on full display. The Amazon looked quite pleased, as Dawn tried to cover her crotch covered by her pink panties. She knew she was going to lose them, but dear God did she want to hang onto them for dear life. But what stopped her was the absolute fear from how she’d be punished for it. “Now are you going to be good?” “Y-y...yes...” Dawn mouthed defeatedly. “Take them off.” She begged and she begged, falling off the cusp of sanity as at the same time she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear. It was all so strange; so surreal. They didn’t even feel like her hands, rather, alien appendages invading her privates. And they might as well have been, since her hands were no longer her own; following orders from an absolute monster. She could feel every woven thread in the fabric slip across her skin, afraid it would be the very last time she’d ever embrace such comforting clothes. The self-proclaimed “mama” was simply infatuated with the scene. While Dawn drove herself to a state of total ruin, this woman enjoyed every step of the way, looking to be eating up every morsel of misery and embarrassment. Dawn nearly fell over twice by the time she got her panties off. She was a complete and total blubbering mess. A sick and twisted giggle came from the Amazon as she clasped her over-decorated hands together, leading to the slight jingle and jangle of the gold bands around her girthy wrists. “Abby! You look adorable! Come and give Mama a kiss!” For once Dawn didn’t listen, or at least looked beyond the capacity of processing normal commands, which is why a guiding hand wrapped behind her and nudged her forward, just about knocking her of her balance. She seemed to be stuck in a trance, or was too scared to disobey once she let the large set of lips plant themselves against her cheek. Maybe it was all a devilish ploy to get her pants and panties though, because unknowingly she’d stepped out of them, and it sent Dawn into a new frenzy once they were no longer on the ground and instead in her hand. “Honestly, how did you get by in these flimsy things?” She stretched the panties curiously well-beyond their capacity, and Dawn was just about to stop her until what she was afraid of happened. There was a brief noise of shredding, and suddenly one piece of fabric became two. Dawn looked on quietly as so with her panties, so did her spirit go too. “Whoopies!” She innocently chuckled, holding the torn pair of underwear. “Guess I was right about them not being so great, huh?” Dawn instead looked on in teary anger, biting her tongue to the point it just might bleed. “Well, we’ll take care of those later...” And into the bag they went, Dawn spent her time fully covering her privates, realizing her new and much more terrifying dilemma. “Why are you doing this?” Dawn, finally out of tears, coldly asked. “What do you mean, sweetie?” This beast had the gaul to play dumb. “Changing your undies?” Her eye probably twitched, as she looked at her in sheer disbelief. How could they switch to such extremes so easily? One moment a pure sadist, and the next a doting mother? Or...maybe in the end, maybe they never changed. They were everything all at once at any given moment, and simply one of the many layers was a little closer to the surface. Dawn then winced, as she looked at her bare thigh. There was already a large red spot from where she’d been maimed, and it further reinforced her fears of crossing this woman. But it all made it so much worse when she coaxed her forward, holding what sent her into a panic from the start. Nowhere near close to panties, and seeing its white, crinkly form, Dawn could see the rectangular padding strain against the plastic backing to it. It thinned into simple paper around the waist; not like the exquisite fabrics she once wore. There were no detailed embroidery on it, and instead smiling butterflies and bees. It was a sick and twisted insult to what she once wore. “Now who’s ready for a pull-up?” The way she held it so expectantly, it was as if she were waiting for her to jump into the damn thing. Dawn didn’t budge, still protecting her modesty, and the Amazon annoyedly sighed. Dawn wasn’t nearly quick enough to react, as with a simple shove she was on her bottom, feeling the cold tiles touch her skin made her shiver. And in her state of confusion, a mix of plastic, padding and paper was snaked around her feet and through her legs. The Amazonian force behind it forced her upright and back onto her feet, as the pull-up fell into place around her hips once it was further tugged upwards. The unusual girth to the crotch forced her legs just slightly apart. She could only blink, feeling the invasive cotton pressed against her crotch. No...she wasn’t. She couldn’t be… The Amazon, meanwhile, squealed with an ear-bleeding delight as she further invaded Dawn’s privacy, running her nail along the elastic bands running over her legs. Dawn was too mortified to do anything. She’d never actually expected it to happen. To happen to her. Dawn looked to her toes, and could see the padding was well-pronounced, curving down and over. She looked down, as if to follow it, all the way until it reached between her legs; curving fully like a dome, the perfect outer shell. She pressed a hand to it, and as soon as she felt and heard the crinkle, fresh tears found their way. “Now why are you crying, Abby?” She continued to pretend as if she didn’t understand. “I thought you liked your pull-ups? Do you really want your diapers back that badly?” “I DON’T WANT ANY OF IT!” Already on death’s door, she saw little reason to restrain herself any further. Her voice had already been through such trial and tribulation, though, it came out raspy and weak. The Amazon looked to be winding up for another slap, and from the threat alone it made Dawn snap into two, as she fell to her knees, sobbing. The slap never came, and all there was was the crinkling from Dawn’s new underpants. “I can’t be a baby! I’m an adult! Why can’t you see that?” She shouted in a disoriented slur, eyeing the Amazon with such malice, but from the outside looking in, it was probably nowhere near as fierce as she’d of hoped. She was already preparing her next string of insults, but that time would not come to pass, as a silicon bulb was forced into her mouth; first her freedom to the bathroom, and now to speech. What more would be taken from her? She tried to scream when the next part happened, but it was impossible considering her mouth was no longer hers. The bulb to the appropriately-sized pacifier felt the heavy push coming from the Amazon’s finger against the shield, and in tune with her presses, the bulb grew in size. It was at first something Dawn could dance around her tongue, and most importantly remove, but that was quickly becoming not the case. One pump. Two pumps. Three. She felt as if her jaw were going to snap, the pain was so sudden and merciless. She started to gag; unable to breath. It was going to be a quick death, and maybe there was some solace in that. As she struggled, she couldn’t sit still, ignoring the crinkley waddle to her step as she tried to keep herself alive. Or maybe she should’ve been going for the opposite. Maybe death was better than this kind of torture. She didn’t know whether to feel pained or relieved to remember that she could breathe through her nose. It sounded loud and frantic as her nostrils struggled to compensate for the loss of an orifice. She tried pulling on the ring of the pacifier, but seeing as the tinier version had slipped behind her teeth, and was now far too large to get past them, the pacifier was effectively locked inside her mouth. It didn’t stop her from pulling a few more times, but the pain caused her to wince, and the jerking motion she used tugged the rest of her body along with it; a testament to how cemented the device was in her body. It’d become an extension of her. “You can have your words back Abby once I think you’re ready to use them.” She huffed impatiently, and Dawn simply resigned herself to a meander. There was no point in resisting. Nothing Dawn could do mattered, as it’d always be a tiny rebellion easily quelled by a means of sheer force. She angrily tugged at the elastic waistband to the pull-up, hoping to at least damage the material, and in some way get back at this twisted bitch. A slap to the wrist made her yelp though, or at least make a noise behind the pacifier, seeing as she no longer had speech. “You are under no circumstances allowed to touch your panties. Got it?” Dawn didn’t know what was worse: the slap, the pull-up, or the Amazon thinking they were still panties. Bitterly, she nodded her head, feeling terribly crestfallen.

Awesome to hear! Thank you, along with every other reader for your patience. I'm trying to write for Sheltered when I can, but I'm also trying to juggle some other projects as well. No promises, but I might be doing another story soon... Either that, or possibly brush off some dust on an older series I want to get back into gear. Regardless, nobody knows! Thanks for the comment and I look forward to hearing from you the next time around! Such a lovely comment! Haha, but in all seriousness, thank you for sharing your opinion! I'm happy to hear you're enjoying it, and hopefully I continue to please. Thanks for commenting! To be honest, I was thinking about how people might receive their makeup and resolution. I suppose what I was going for was to make the situation seem larger than life; their conflict over boundaries, only for Michael, an outsider looking in, to reasonably downplay it into something that the pair can more than handle. They still need to set a baseline, but they're at least on the same page now. Thanks for dropping a like on this, as well! Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanks! ?

Hey! Glad to hear you liked it, and I appreciate the kind words! Hopefully I'm creating interesting scenarios; something I want to improve on, but it's nice to hear a positive response! As for inspiration, maybe on some level you can credit Goblin Slayer, but I haven't read it in a long time. The more I think about the idea of being overpowered by a monster in it though...maybe you're on to something I didn't even realize ? Thanks so much for commenting!

The wooden door swung with a sense of passion running through its hinges, as 66 inches of pride marched its leather boots across the wooden floor and inside the guild. Hanging on her wrist, just before the edge of her brown, finger-less leather gloves, was a twine basket caught in its own mild swing from the sheer momentum of its carrier. Covered by a patterned piece of cloth, it shrouded the contents inside. “Jessica!” the familiar guild receptionist, Tira, warmly welcomed the adventurer with a wave from behind the wooden, masterfully carved countertop trimmed in bronze. Only the more popular guild houses were trimmed in anything more expensive. Out here in the sticks, there wasn’t as much activity for aspiring goblin-slayers and dungeon-delvers. Jessica, the girl with the basket, haughtily set the basket on the counter with a smug grin on her face. Today was the day. She’d been at this too long to not do the math at least thrice over! Yes. She knew exactly what her bounty would yield, and what it would ultimately lead her to. “Tira, this is the last time I’ll be collecting silk-grass day-in and day-out!” As if to give herself the assurance, she nodded her head once again. Tira meanwhile, either oblivious or mindful of the girl’s boastful confidence, politely adjusted the cuffs to her blouse before peeling back the cloth on the basket. “A splendid job as always, Jessica,” she spoke with a discerning eye as she held a small sample of the girl’s haul. The grass almost looked metallic, with how the chandelier from above shone down on it. “I take it this is the five bundles like always?” The ‘always’ part almost seemed offensive, but clearly she didn’t mean it. Jessica had known Tira long enough to know she was nothing but kind, caring and supportive. From the start, she’d been encouraging Jessica, a newbie to the adventurer’s life, and helping her in whatever way she could. But yes, she had been at the same job for quite some time now, despite it being the hero’s mantra to help anyone in need; complete any sort of task that needs attending, and it just so happened Jessica’s was to quench the undying thirst for silk-grass. But she could take it all in stride now, knowing this was finally the last grass-run! “Same as always, Tira! Maybe there’s even some extra in there?” There probably was, but if the margin was too small, they’d always round down on her. Even if they did, she still made just as much as she’d expect. “I’ll trust you, considering you are the goto when it comes to grass-gathering. The town alchemist is really appreciative, by the way,” she smiled the same way she always did. It was enough to even make the haughty Jessica feel a little silly...and proud. Demeaning as it was, it was still a good deed done nonetheless. “And uh, I don’t mean to rush, but do you think I could get my payment?” When it came to being frank with Tira, Jessica always felt like she was treading on eggshells. She never wanted to come off as rude to her. “I want to visit the swordsmith before sundown; I think they’re closing soon...” Tira suddenly gasped, placing a hand to her mouth. “Wait, Jessica, you can’t mean you can finally afford one!?” The smile that was already on Jessica’s face only grew wider, as she now had someone equally as excited to confide in. Wordlessly, she nodded her head. “That’s great! So that means you’ll be ready for some tougher requests, right?” She took a moment to straighten her thin, blue vest while she turned her back to Jessica for only a moment, going through some shelves. “Let me just get your payment...” “Yep! No more harvesting for me. I can’t wait for my first real adventure!” She couldn’t even begin to think what she’d do next. Fight slimes? Boars? Goblins? Orcs? Dragons? The possibilities were endless! Well, maybe harshly limited given her equipment...but, the potential was what mattered the most. The sound of metal coins hitting the wooden top announced payment’s touchdown. Ten silver coins were deposited, then carefully arranged on the wooden surface. “Alright, so the job pays ten silver, but...” three shiny friends were reeled back into Tira’s hand. It would’ve been sad if Jessica weren’t expecting it. The guild always took a cut. “After the guild’s fee, that makes seven silver.” She nudged the small stack a little closer to Jessica, who slipped them into her jingling pouch. She’d already amassed her tiny fortune. All that was left was to spend it! “Congratulations, Jessica, really!” Just before Jessica could turn away, Tira leaned forward and pulled her in for a smothering hug. Had the counter not been an obstacle, Jessica may have been fully suffocated. Finally she relented and let go, after Jessica resisted enough. “You better hurry now before they close. And since it’s too late to take another quest tonight, see me first thing in the morning! I’ll have something good prepared for you!” “Thanks, Tira! See you tomorrow!” She waved goodbye as she rushed out the door, brown hair in all its splendor flowing right behind her pace. Her feet couldn’t carry her across the cobblestone fast enough. She could just manage to see the smoke rising over the rooftops off in the distance. It was her beacon; her gateway to the next level. From here it was just the start. “Yes! Yes! You’re all mine!” Clutched tightly in her hands was a beautifully sewn sheath, made from an animal’s thick hide; nicely cured, cut, and shaped. Inside it held a piece of metal attached to a handle wrapped in fabric that ensured a rock-hard grip for its user. Sharp along the edges and meeting to a single point on the end, it couldn’t have been longer than the connected span of both Jessica’s hands, but it was hers. Her first, real sword. Well, dagger, but her first real blade! A few meager coins were left in her deflated pouch, but it was all worth it. Every single silver of it. Nearly a month of hard work had finally paid off! It took her just about a week to even figure how to budget for this thing, much less directly work towards it. The pride and sense of accomplishment right then was beyond measure. And as she held her ever-so wonderful dagger close to her chest, she looked at the crimson hue in the sky. Truthfully, she couldn’t be any happier, but it was a frustrated sigh that left her mouth. How was she going to sleep tonight, knowing she couldn’t use her dagger until tomorrow? She wanted to use it now. She was already craving for the new horizons which she would embark upon. It was an insatiable hunger, and she wanted to satisfy it now. Excitedly, still outside the swordsmith’s shop, she panned her eyes to the right, seeing the open gate to the town just nearby. There had to be something out right now, right? Did slimes graze the plains all day? She couldn’t remember. All she could log inside her brain was where the best spots to harvest silk-grass are. Well, that would need to change. She’d need to make room for all the now much more relevant information she would discover. She was already walking to it. Then jogging. Then sprinting. “Come on! Where are all these stupid slimes?” She stomped her foot into the grass, causing the slight shake to her thin chainmail. Her shoulder and kneepads were itching for combat! Some of the more experienced adventures liked to crack jokes about how “overprepared” she was for harvesting, often claiming she thought the grass might eat her if she got too close… Rather, it was in case of a day like this. A day when she finally could fight something that would bite back. Unfortunately, the surrounding fields were empty; devoid of a single target for practice. Maybe she really should pack it in? There would definitely be stuff tomorrow… Yet as she tried to reason to herself, she kept looking into the forest. No! What are you stupid or something? Even she knew her limits. The forest had significantly tougher creatures lurking about. Of course Jessica could take them any day of the week, even with both hands and feet tied behind her back. But, she might want a little warm-up at least against the smallfry closer to town… After that, though! Then, then she could take on the world. But maybe...maybe there was something weaker on the outskirts of it? She made her way into the woods. Somehow she’d managed to talk herself going quite the distance into the woods. A distance she normally would’ve been uncomfortable of, if she knew she’d be going this far from the start. All she had to tell her the way back to town was by keeping the setting sun on her back. Everything else was just guesswork. She’d never gone this far into the woods. Not even for silk-grass… And yet, despite the danger she was putting herself in, it was overshadowed by the immediate frustration of not encountering a single fight! “Ugh! Why won’t anything fight me?!” Her hand never left the handle of her dagger, secured nicely on her belt. Her joints were probably going to freeze that way if she held it for any longer. Roots and branches were starting to become and issue now too. They were becoming taller and taller, more congested with every foot she tread deeper. A few here and there had unexpectedly brushed her face, which was annoying in its own right, though especially so since it felt like an insult to injury trying to hunt monsters. “Get, out, of, my, WAY!” Suddenly yelling, grunting and shouting, Jessica quickly unsheathed her blade as she unleashed it upon its first kill; tree branches. Now vanquisher of molecules, she finally had some of her composure back when taking a moment to breathe. Suddenly looking smug again, she pressed forward. “That oughta teach you stupid trees...” It wasn’t really her first cut, but boy did it feel good to swing it. It was already feeling like an investment well-made. As she kept walking, a pretty sight caught her eye; a fluttering bug with beautifully colored wings. It was a butterfly! Nothing dangerous or large enough to warrant slaying, but something captivating enough to watch. Then there was another. It was gold and black, and then she was just as surprised to see another; this one purple and green. Where were they all coming from? A faint buzz slowly picked up in her ears. What kind of thing was making that noise? It was getting louder as from wherever it got closer. Then, in a stupefying moment, Jessica turned around. It wasn’t a thing making that noise, but rather things that were. Jessica didn’t know what was more off-putting: the army of insects flying in a concentrated group, or the humanoid figure they were all revolving around. It was as if a woman had fused with a tree. The figure of a female, yet brown and green skin with the texture of tree bark. Her eyes glowed a fierce, emanating green, and what could only be equated to hair was a bundle of vines and branches hanging around her rough, uneven looking shoulders, sprouting flowers and leaves all over. Her feet devolved into nothing more than bundles of branch , yet they were separated from the ground, and she looked very real. Very terrifying, as she stood a little more than twice Jessica’s size. She didn’t look happy. “H-Hi...” her joints felt stiff, and her muscles were like blocks of ice; heavy and immovable. Her mouth quivered as she tried to find the words, much less actually identify what this odd monstrosity was, or what it wanted with Jessica. Then, much to her dismay, realizing the fruits of her mistakes, slashing the branches from earlier didn’t seem so smart of an idea in retrospect… “D-don’t come any closer!” Finally remembering her line of defense, she quickly pulled the blade in front of her, pointing it at the creature of nature. “If you do I’ll cut--” her small flame of bravado was quickly snuffed as a blunt root suddenly shot from the soil beneath her, easily knocking the blade out of her weak grip with a little force. “H-Hey! Wait, that’s mine!” Before the dagger could fall back down, a nearby tree seemed to come to life, as a branch extended from it to catch the blade. Jessica was truly panicking now. In mere seconds she’d become defenseless, and was at the mercy of a creature far beyond her class. “Please!” She looked to the creature, who with a human-like face, clearly annoyed, stared back. Jessica seemed to be pleading desperately now. “Please give me my weapon back! I’m sorry for threatening you! I’m sorry for cutting your branches! I’ll leave! I promise!” The once brave and fearless girl was now trembling with trepidation. She wanted to run, but it scared her far too much to think what might happen if she failed to get away. Despite looking human enough, this thing didn’t seem to speak like one, so it was near-impossible to discern her intent. Then, its mouth curled into a wicked smile, or at least how Jessica perceived it. A smug predator now had its prey, and it seemed to be enjoying every moment of the helpless struggle. Even the bugs could get a read of the room, because they all began to quickly make themselves scarce. She was almost too frightened to notice the foreign tendril slowly creeping up and around her left ankle, slithering into the gap between her leather pads and skin. She doubled over, trying to thrash as the invasive probe nestled itself further around her leg. She tugged and pulled, but almost lost all hope when she could see it was another root coming deep from the ground. “P-Please! Don’t!” Blubbering, she looked back to the monster, who seemed no less amused, which further pushed Jessica into waterworks. Was this really how it all ended? Dying simply because she got a bit too ambitious? Maybe harvesting grass for the bulk of her career wasn’t all that bad. Maybe thinking she could ever amount to anything greater was her fault. She’d gone and foolishly jumped off and into the deep end; thwarted by her own greed. She didn’t stop crying, but knew that this fate might be deserved. Still, she was inconsolable, too young to cope with such a bitter end. It got closer to Jessica, wincing from the motion alone. Hopefully it would be a swift death… She looked no less happy as she got closer and closer to Jessica, only a foot apart, magnifying the difference they had in height. Leaning forward, her eyes just remained a little bit higher than Jessica’s, whilst her green sockets seemed to pierce her entire being. Jessica tried not to squirm as the root secured itself firmly all over her, wrapped around her calf, thigh and waist so snugly. She could see the small bulge snaking around her clothed torso, knowing exactly where it’d sewn itself. “Wait...” between her sobs, she managed to speak. “You’re a...you’re a nymph, aren’t you?” It made no difference at all, but at least now there was a name to a face. The naturey, woman-like appearance made too much sense now. She didn’t even know why she was saying it to begin with. The nymph didn’t seem to care though, as she leaned back into her dominant pose, being just as cryptic as she’d been since the start. A chunk of bark covering her front, she took her hands to it and started pulling it forward, causing a peeling, snapping sort of noise; the kind you’d hear from breaking branches. Was she hurting herself? None of this was making sense! Her face showed no indication of pain, however, as with a final snap the remaining fibers of wood were broken, and off came a plate of bark covering her torso. Jessica wasn’t sure what to expect, though the likely assumption was either more wood or plant material, but given how this thing looked...as she stared at the reveal...it seemed...oddly obvious. Much like a human woman in this regard as well, she too had a bosom. Identical in shape and form, though different in texture and look, a pair of unmistakable breasts were now faced towards the trapped Jessica. It was jarring enough to make her forget she was on death’s door. Her eyes kept rapidly pacing between the very risque sight, and the nymph who couldn’t stop smiling. What kind of game was this thing playing? Jessica kept trying to struggle, but the root had grown rigid and stiff; impossible to bend. Her breathing started to become more rapid as the nymph had suddenly lifted her, with the root now flexible like thread, and...sat her in her lap? Supported by one arm, she was laying in such a position that gave her the perfect side view of the creature’s breasts. She root wrapped around her became snug again, signifying this was her destined position. “Are...are you not going to kill me?” She looked pleadingly up to the nymph. A rough hand took hold of her chin, as her gaze was directed back to the woman’s chest. If it wasn’t clear before, she’d made her chest bare for a reason… And now looking at it a bit more clearly, much to Jessica’s confusion she could see that there were nipples as well. And...and they were leaking something? A shiny brown, something slightly viscous dripped from them, and unfortunately right onto Jessica’s pants. Just from looking she could tell it was sticky. She was close enough to smell its faint odor. It reminded her of citrus, or something fruity... Trying to shift her position, finding the woman’s grip was rock solid kept her from trying to protest. And much to her horror, the arm supporting her head started to gently push, bringing Jessica closer and closer to the breast, quickly realizing what this was all about. “Wh-what?! No! You can’t feed me! I’m not some child! I’m not--” she couldn’t finish her words, as the tip to a plump breast was forced into her mouth. It betrayed her expectations completely, considering how the nymph was made of wood and leaves. Her chest was the exact opposite; soft, bouncy and squishy. Maybe that’s why she covered herself up? She was trying to think rationally, but even without sucking, the substance that was leaking from the nymph’s breast was now leaking straight into Jessica’s mouth. She tried to pull away, but the nymph’s arm would not relent. In her helpless struggle her tongue had a fit of its own as well, accidentally swabbing the sticky liquid now collecting in her mouth. It was vile; disgusting. A sinister substance concocted from the pits of hell itself. It was bad. She hated it. … That’s...what she wanted to say. But instead, a sweet syrup dressed itself over her tongue, as she involuntarily swallowed the chillingly wonderful nectar. It took her a moment to realize she could breathe through her nose, wide-eyed, as her tongue sprouted a mind of its own, suddenly shamelessly probing for more. It’s...it’s good… Real good! What was she doing? Why was she reacting this way? And why? Why did it taste so good?! Her submission came from a solemn truth that she would not be able to escape, and how she felt guiltily strung along by such a wonderful taste. As shameful as it all was, she could seem to stomach her feelings just as well as the nymph’s nectar. Little to none was coming out, and her primitive desires were making her impatient; frustrated. As if her body already knew the answer, her moving jaw, lips and tongue worked in a conjoined effort to further coax the drink from the creature’s breast. The flesh-like tissue responded in tune, as a wonderful stream eased itself into the back of Jessica’s throat. And finally she heard the nymph make a noise, as it was a sweet, seductive sigh, and the grip on Jessica’s hair felt a tiny bit tighter, though loosening once again as the nymph regained her composure. Did she actually feel pleasure from this? Jessica took another swallow of the sweet, delicious syrup. She was too occupied by the taste of treats than to consider the circumstances. She cared not for her dagger, where she was, what she was doing, or how she thought she could have died. All she focused on was getting more syrup from this creature’s breast. It reminded her of honey and syrup combined, sprinkled with sugar and strawberries! Her analogies were likely poorly composed, but who could blame her? The drink was making her so frazzled, nothing in that moment seemed to make sense. The more she sucked and swallowed, she could feel the liquid’s warmth radiate somewhere deep inside of herself. It sent mild shocks and vibrations that tickled her all over, particularly close to the stomach. Had she not been so drunkenly hypnotized, she’d maybe have even squealed in delight. How could she have thought of doing something so heinous? Pointing a blade at something that could carry such sweet delights in its chest? She’d already become a natural at feeding from the nymph’s breast, and surprised herself by the discomfort she felt once she was forcibly detached. “W-wait! But I’m...” was she really this hooked? How addictive was this? She licked the outer rim of her lips, then stared at the smiling nymph, who didn’t seem so predatory anymore... “I’m not done!” She wanted more and was helpless to do anything about it. Luck was finally on her side though, because after a quick rotation in her posture, she was suddenly closer to the hopefully, equally as full other breast that had yet to be touched. It didn’t take a guiding hand for her to latch her mouth on this time, and was probably her only element of surprise on the creature, as she made a slight noise, likely induced by the abrasiveness of her suckling captive. It was all happening so fast, yet time had stood still. Her eyes were drooping, as her sense of sharpness and alert were being quickly drained away with her adrenaline, being replaced by a much stronger wave of calming euphoria. She almost felt like she’d committed a crime when her stomach had started to become inevitably full. A few whimpers summed up her internal conflict; an unending desire to nurse, yet contradicted by the physical limits of her body. There was no chance she was going to cut herself off, though. She no longer had the mental barriers to keep herself in check. All she knew how to do by this point was drink. She was so out of it, a strand of drool formed the bridge between her lips and the nymph’s breast, when she was finally pulled away, involuntarily. “No, no! Please, please, just a little more!” Her emotions were getting the better of her, whining as if she’d just been denied a long-awaited inheritance. When she tried to grab for a hold, the nymph’s much more tough arm swatted hers away. Even though she was practically intoxicated, the small, rational voice in her head was at least thankful for her stomach not bursting. She didn’t know what she’d do if there was a third breast… That warm, full feeling in her stomach never seemed to wane, as her stomach had the slightest curve to it; an unfortunate sign of overeating, or in this case, overdrinking. Her mouth was still salivating just from looking at the bare breast, but even that tempting sight was soon to go, because like magic her outer bark tissue was fast growing over her chest. And as it left, so did Jessica’s remaining energy. Whether it was the rapid shift in her emotions, the effects of the syrup, or both, some toll was being collected, and Jessica was just about bankrupt in every sense of the word. She was so tired, all she could think of now was sleep. Yes...sweet, lovely relaxation. Stuck in such a sleepy state, she couldn’t help but giggle once she focused on the feeling in her tummy. It was still radiating those distant tingles, and it was kind of a funny feeling the way she felt her lower regions twitch in response… She was probably just too content from all the syrup. She would blink, then realize a few seconds later that to actually blink you’d need to open your eyes again right after. Certain pressures were building too. But she couldn’t place them? She was too disoriented to, after all. Whatever it was, and wherever she was, it could wait. Until she was ready...she’d be catching some shuteye… “Are you sure this is her? I can’t imagine an adventurer would...you know… Even if they’re a rookie.” “Well, she matches the description.” Jessica could feel a hand nudge her shoulder, but wasn’t alert enough yet to realize it. “Tiny girl, brown hair? And regardless of how she...smells, this is definitely her.” “Don’t you think it’s kinda weird though? How are you gonna be missing for a whole 24 hours, just to take a snooze in the forest?” “It’s not that normal, Faris. You saw the surrounding area. Covered in woven branches, leaves and flowers? And until we found her, it actually kind of smelled pleasant. It’s obvious this is a nymph’s territory.” Then her all-knowing tone seemed to transition into genuine uncertainty. “But that doesn’t explain why we’d find her in the middle of it...” “...Nnnn…?” Jessica made a weak noise, as she was finally coming to. “Look! She’s waking up! Thank the heavens,” the female voice spoke a bit lower this time, “I almost thought we were gonna have to carry her back...” “We? Faris, did you forget that you’re the muscle here? That’d have been your job.” “Is someone there?” Still with her eyes closed, though adjusting to the light, Jessica stirred. She felt groggy all over, like she was a statue learning how to be something animate. “Then I think I’d be taking 100% of the reward.” Faris, the ‘muscle’ in question, said snarkily. “As if! If you didn’t have me, there’s no way you would have been able to track her!” From Jessica’s perspective, she wasn’t appreciating all the noise. She did manage to open her eyes though, as the sunlight from the roof of foliage bled through just enough to irritate her eyes. “Whatever you say, Vanessa the potty pants tracker. Like, seriously? Anyone could have smelled her a mile away!” “Watch your tongue! She’s waking up!” It was only about a minute later until Jessica was actually registering noise. She was on her side, laying in a bundle of leaves. She was coming from a clearly deep sleep, as her limbs felt glued together all over. Glued...especially between her legs… A foul smell drifted to her nostrils as all it took was one sniff to cause deep regret. She quickly covered her nostrils, as she rolled onto her back to sit up. That was her first, and last mistake. What she didn’t realize was that there was something sitting between her bottom and the ground, which was almost like a ball of clay inside her cotton underwear. Clay was what she wished it’d have been, but the cold, awkward squish had her wide-eyed in just a few seconds, putting the feeling and location of the mess together with the terrible smell. No...she couldn’t have! “Oh...I think she just sat in it...” A quiet, not-so-quiet voice whispered to another person, and Jessica mortifyingly caught sight of two female adventurers. “Um, hello,” the other female greeted, though she seemed a tad bit awkward, but something told Jessica it had something to do with herself… “You wouldn’t happen to be Jessica, would you?” Trying not to move an inch, lest the mess covering her backside be smushed any further, she slowly nodded her head. “See? I told you it was her.” Jessica was about to ask her own questions, but there was a small, yet sudden build-up she was feeling down below… As if it were a visual cue, she looked down at herself, noticing a slight unfortunate stain on the front of her pants. There was the one from the syrup drops, if she remembered correctly, but all around that...It was darker. It was as if the syrup had been washed away from something else… Her question was answered, though not in a way she would have liked. The small build-up spilled over, quite literally, as an involuntary sigh left Jessica whilst a foreign, alien sensation came from her bladder, as a stream seeped through her panties, and then pants. And as it came out, and she wordlessly blushed, the stream seemed to be perfectly limited to the already existing stain on her pants… “...Did the worker say she was a bedwetter, too?” The wooden door swung with a sense of urgency running through its hinges, as 66 inches of panic scurried its leather boots across the wooden floor and inside the guild. Hanging on her wrist, just before the edge of her brown, fingerless leather gloves, was a twine basket caught in its own rushed swing from the sheer momentum of its carrier. A few strands of silk-grass were already slipping from it. The usual patterned piece of cloth was a bit looser than usual, as there was unfortunately other things on the adventurer’s mind. “Jessica!” Tira warmly welcomed the adventurer with a wave from behind the wooden desk, just like any other typical day. She barely even flinched when noticing the urgency in Jessica’s expressions and movements. Jessica, the girl with the basket, quickly set the basket on the counter with an unintentional amount of force, as she did her best to keep her thighs squeezed together, which was only a sign of the other muscles she was trying to keep tight. Today wasn’t her day. Having that extra bowl of stew for breakfast this morning was clearly a mistake, and it was starting to show. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead just from trying to maintain the overwhelming pressure. The worst part was that it probably wasn’t even that bad. Her sphincter had simply weakened so much, a small gust of wind felt like a tornado to her now. Had it been a week earlier, she could’ve easily kept something like this down for at least another two hours! Three, even! Now she was lucky to last even fifteen minutes... “Tira, please, I’m in a hurry…! Can we be fast today? Please? “Sorry, Jessica, I’ll try to be as fast as I can, but you know how things are,” she chuckled, though Jessica didn’t share in the humor. “Rules are rules!” She peeled back the cloth covering the goods, which was partly done for her, considering how sloppy Jessica was being. What had the adventurer whining though was when Tira started counting them by the handful. “Tira! What are you doing?” Jessica almost regret her complaints, because as if she wasn’t a multitasker, Tira set aside the grass and her counting as if it took everything just to respond. “I just need to be sure, Jessica.” “But you never needed to count the grass before!” God! How long did she expect her to hold it for? She started to whimper as something was already peeking between her buttcheeks. “That was then, and now...well...” she looked to Jessica as if she were a complex set of arithmetic. “As my job, I need to make sure you’ve done your job properly...that’s all.” As if she were trying to drag out this charade even further, she went on to ask, “Any more questions?” “Just please finish it! I can’t hold it anymore…!” She tried to stand upright as best as she could, hoping it might keep her bum sealed together. She didn’t care how embarrassing it looked anymore as with both hands she pressed as much as she could into her backside, hoping it could somehow keep the messy beast at bay. Yet, the one deterrent to her efforts, snugly worn underneath her tights, was a terribly oppressive cloth that at least guaranteed an inch of spacing between her palms and ground zero. “Three bundles...” Quietly, Tira counted to herself, and Jessica further reached her wits end. A small grunt escaped her as she clenched her teeth, desperately trying to fight a losing battle. “...And that’s why I said you should’ve used your firebolt!” “And waste my mana? Faris, you have a perfectly good sword that can handle goblins that tiny...” Jessica nearly jumped when she could hear a pair of boots coming in from the entrance. The heavy shifts of metal armor crowded the room, and the swishes of cloth robes and leather boots were drowned in comparison. Unfortunately they were familiar faces. “Vanessa! Faris!” Tira once again, unfortunately paused her counting. “Hi Tira!” the pair beamed. “I take it your quest went well? Which one was it again?” As if time was a limitless thing, she thought to herself. “Clearing out the goblins in the nearby town’s sewer system, right?” “Yep!” Faris answered. “Can’t say it was the most pleasant one, though...” She pinched her nose. “The sewer smelt like...well... a sewer.” “Very well-put, Faris,” Vanessa snarkily chimed in. “Shut up. I think she gets what I mean.” Real adventure. That’s all Jessica heard. She could’ve had that as well; she was right on the cusp of it. All until that one unfortunate encounter… Fate was a cruel mistress, as the pair that’d found her in the aftermath of it were now staring right as her right, right where she was pressing into herself. “By the way, are you with someone right now?” The taller woman curiously looked down on Jessica’s head. “We could always come back later?” “Oh, don’t worry, we shouldn’t be much longer. I’m just counting up her silk-grass.” “Silk-grass, huh?” Faris snickered. “Feels like ages ago when we were first doing that, right Vanessa?” Jessica tried not to take it personally, and it was probably being too busy to put a stop on her bowels that helped. “I’ll say,” she blankly added. “Rookies need to start somewhere, though...” If only she were a rookie. Or maybe she was, and was simply fated to remain that way… “Speaking of which, are you doing alright, hon?” Faris got a little closer than Jessica would have liked, as she could feel a presence was closer to her bottom. “Is something pinned to your butt?” She laughed curiously, then startled the girl once she prodded her bum with a gloved finger. “Oh...oh!” The longer she looked, the clearer it became. Jessica’s cheeks burned like the firebolts Vanessa could probably shoot, knowing it didn’t take an arcane magician to figure out why someone might have a bulge in their pants. “Sorry about that, kid...” Faris remorsefully spoke, patting her on the shoulder. And unfortunately, as simple as it was, a shoulder pat was what broke the camel’s back. Like an endless pile of junk overstuffed into a tiny closet, the whole thing burst in an almost comedic manner. A large load of mess suddenly exploded from Jessica’s backside as her bum spread nice and wide for the rude guest invading her terribly thick underpants. It quite literally felt like she was pouring mud into her pants. She grew completely stiff as it happened, staring bug-eyed at Tira who was staring right back at her. She shuddered as her messing scene came to an end. The room was quiet as it fully sunk in, and the odor fully seeped from her. “Ah...er...Tira?” Vanessa awkwardly spoke. “I think this girl, uh...” Tira with a smile still sighed, seeming apologetic. “Yes...I know.” Jessica still hadn’t said anything, other than remaining frozen still as she became teary-eyed. “B-but, but I didn’t mean...” Biting her lower lip, a simple beckon from Tira’s hand had her walking awkwardly around the desk. “Sorry, girls. Could you just be a little more patient? I just need to take care of one other thing...” It was obvious what she was alluding to, as Jessica bow-leggedly joined her, sniffling. A hand was rubbing her back, and Jessica could only try and stifle her sobs as she felt the heavy weight in her pants. How could things have devolved so quickly? And as they disappeared down the hall, Jessica could hear the unfortunate chatter from the pair of veterans. “I’m pretty sure she’s the one we found in the forest about a week ago...” “Well, at least she’s wearing protection this time...” In a private room, there was a wooden desk with some chairs, accompanied by the many bookshelves along the walls. Beside the desk was a bundle of cloth and a bucket of water. Jessica didn’t know how long they’d been there, in that spot, for... but not they almost certainly always were, given their purpose. “Tira, p-please,” she hiccuped. “I didn’t mean to!” “I know you didn’t, Jess, it’s okay...” With guiding hands she had Jessica sitting on the table, and she whimpered a terrible cry as the poo rubbed itself further into her skin. “Shh...shh...” Jessica would normally protest if a stranger were going to pull her pants off, but unfortunately this had happened already too many times already for it to be considered not normal. This whole predicament was certainly abnormal, but she’d become far too desensitized to it by now. “If you just had let me use the bathroom, though!” It was true. She knew she needed the toilet, so why was she not permitted? Well, only contributing adventurers had such a privilege, hence why Jessica was so desperate for her to finish counting. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out, Jessica, but if you couldn’t hold it...” her gentle hand set itself on the cloth, bulky crotch of Jessica’s exposed diaper. “Well, I guess we can call it effective insurance, I suppose...” The binding pins to her cloth diaper were undone, as her little “present” was nice and exposed from underneath. Once the smell had a chance to waft, it was obviously terrible...but...something was strange. Jessica in any other sensible moment would not do this under any circumstances, but this time voluntarily sniffed. It was bad, yes, but...strawberries? Amidst all that badness packed into her bodily waste, there was a slight hint of something somewhat pleasant in it… Tira had leaned out of view for a moment, but after hearing the swish of water she was back with a wet cloth in hand. “Okay, Jess, you know the drill. Lift your bum for me, please?” A week was enough time to form a protocol for this sort of thing, meaning that it wasn’t Jessica’s first time having a messy diaper, and nor Tira’s first time dealing with one. “Still,” as she wiped, she continued to speak. “I don’t know how this could have happened to you...” Despite how embarrassing the situation was, Jessica still had it in herself to annoyedly groan. “I already said it was because of that stupid Nymph!” “Honey...” the way she’d adapted to the condescending pet name was even worse. It was as if she’d unspokenly acknowledged Jessica as a child. Just a week ago she’d already gotten her first weapon! Now she didn’t… After that creature tossed it somewhere, she never did find it. The day she was found, she couldn’t bear to stay in such filthy clothing, considering she’d messed in it and peed herself at least twice… By the time she was cleaned up and ready to go scavenging for her weapon again, apparently that pair had torched the marked nymph’s territory, virtually assimilating it with the rest of the forest, meaning Jessica had no way to find that spot ever again. “I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this, but, well... nymphs just don’t go and do that sort of thing...” She was remaining a bit touchy, given how awkward the subject material was. Jessica unfortunately knew it too. Even if they were facts, how could it not sound like a tall tale to try and explain that a nymph breastfed you and virtually ruined your bladder and bowels by the might of her breast milk? Well, breast syrup… Tira seemed sensitive to Jessica’s pleas, but it’s not like she totally believed them, either… After her strange, 24 hour coma induced by the whole experience, she’d already digested all the syrup, or her body unfortunately absorbed a large amount of it, given there was some aftereffects that were present. No sensible adventurer or encyclopedia could corroborate Jessica’s witness of events. Not a single nymph has ever been reported to do something as strange as this, meaning Jessica was the boy who cried wolf. No one believed her, which made her pants pissing and messing all the more strange...or even deliberate. “Oh! Jessica!” The sudden panicked shout of her name broke her train of thought, as Jessica suddenly saw the spurt of urine leaking from her, or rather, shooting from her in all directions. Gasping herself, in a split-second moment of panic, she placed her hands over her crotch, catching the warm stream, though it sprayed against her hands and leaked between her fingers. “No, no!” Tira quickly discouraged, swatting her hands away and instead holding the front of the cloth diaper against her crotch. “That’s how your hands get dirty! That’s what these are for, remember?” Her total loss of self-control was too much, as she nearly covered her face with her pee-covered hands just to avoid the direct eye contact and maybe wipe away some of her tears, but without any sensible options left, she merely cried without any sort of change. She didn’t even realize she was peeing to begin with! Everything was slipping far, far too fast, and she didn’t know how to handle it. “It’s okay, Jess...” she peeled back the front of the diaper, to see if the stream had stopped. “That’s what these are for, remember?” Before she went back to cleaning up Jessica’s nether regions, she took her hands instead. “I’m sorry...” Jessica sobbed. “I was just trying to help...” “I know you were,” she scrubbed Jessica’s hands tenderly. “I’m sorry I said anything to begin with. I know you can’t control it...” It was probably the kindness that hurt the most. She acted as if Jessica genuinely couldn’t be trusted, and on some level it was sorrowfully true. She wanted to be the strong, brave adventurer like she’d always envisioned, but this couldn’t be any farther from it. She hated to admit the pleasure there was in being set on a clean, cloth diaper, but it almost felt like she was giving in to acknowledge it. At least once she was pinned back up, she could forget about this momentary embarrassment… Then an extra, small stack of cloth was slipped between her legs after the usual ones that were already there. “T-Tira? What are you doing?” “Well, I figured you should have something a little extra to keep you dry… Just so you don’t have to worry about needing a change for a bit longer? You seem stressed, Jessica, I want to help.” “Putting more boosters in doesn’t make me feel better!” She tearily shouted. “None of this is right! No one believes me and it’s just getting worse!” “I know it’s...different,” how much of an understatement that was. “But whatever’s causing this, I think it’ll all sort itself out...when it wants to.” “What do you mean, ‘when it wants to’?” What was she even getting at? “Until then,” hopping over her question, “can you at least let me try and help you feel comfortable? I don’t like seeing you like this, Jessica...” She was already pinching something from the inside of a small pouch tied to her waist, sprinkling it on Jessica’s crotch. A sweet smell came from the shining powder, as it easily absorbed into her skin. “Now you smell nice and fresh,” Tira chuckled, but Jessica remained quiet. Tira closed up shop, as she drew up the front of Jessica’s diaper, securing the added booster between her legs, adding to the already pronounced bulk that there was to begin with. Pinning it securely, the change was finally over. Jessica didn’t need any more prompting to get off the table, and as she tried to stand, it only reminded her of the times she was actually capable of pressing her thighs together. What a distant memory it had become. “Actually, Jess, if you could hang on for a second?” Tira paused her right before she could pull up her pants. She didn’t like being exposed any longer than she had to, so her cheeks stayed as a mild red. “Wh...what is it?” “I was hoping to do this after I finished your payment for the quest...” she was going through some drawers behind the desk. “But I think you should have it now. You could use a pick-me-up right now, I think.” Pulling it out, Jessica was a little surprised to see the large item in her hands. It was a white box wrapped in bright red ribbon, and she set it down on the table Jessica just had her diaper changed on. “A present? For me?” Tira with a smile nodded her head. “But why?” As she looked to Tira, she was already walking to the box, forgetting about her pants on the ground. “You’re one of the hardest workers I know, Jessica, and even if no one else might see it, I think you deserve much more credit than you’re given. So when times are tough like this...I want you to know I’m supporting you.” Did she really feel that way? She knew Tira and her had a decent relationship, but it never went beyond that sort of work-type interaction. Then again, that had changed since Tira was the one responsible for changing her diapers right after a quest… Even still, it was all contained, more or less, here. “...Th...thank you…!” Her eyes became glossy as she ran to Tira for a hug. “Awwh, you’re welcome, sweetheart.” Tira warmly hugged her back, and though her hands were a little closer to Jessica’s bottom than she’d have liked, she wasn’t going to spoil the moment over something as silly as that. “Now, are you gonna open it?” “But...aren’t those other two people waiting on you?” “I don’t mind keeping them if you don’t?” She grinned, and Jessica slowly turned back to the present. She still couldn’t get over it. A gift for her? Her heart was beating a mile a minute now that the possibilities behind it were endless. She nearly gasped from the thought alone. A weapon! It had to be a new weapon! She had told Tira of the terrible fate of her brand new dagger; lost to the wilds for eternity. But she’d really go and buy one for her? The more she fantasized, the more she considered it a certainty. Considering the size of the package, it had to be bigger than a measly dagger, as well. Forget the diapers, today was amazing! Excitedly, she undid the ribbon with a pull on one of its strands, and like magic the wrapping had totally fallen limp. Placing a hand on either side of the box, she gently lifted its outer cover, slipping it off for the sweet, tantalizing reveal. Hello, my brand-spanking new swor--! She’d been so excited for the initial reveal, she was still trying to work through her happiness reserves while she stared at what was most certainly not a new sword. Her smile was frozen to her face, as it most certainly did not reflect her true reaction to what it really was. Tira placed her hands over her mouth, shielding a gasp. “You like it? That’s great! I was almost a little afraid you weren’t going to… Oh! But this makes it all worth it!” Jessica’s smile faded into a blank stare as she grabbed the item from the box with both hands. Underwear is what she would have liked to call it. But there were two problems with that. One, diapers were not considered underwear in Jessica’s book, and two, accessories for diapers by proxy definitely were not, either. All sorts of circles in blues, reds, yellows, pinks, greens, oranges, and purples decorated the cloth garment, as Jessica stared at the cloth cover. “It’s a...” “Diaper cover!” Tira was too cheerful to not finish the girl’s sentence. “I figured if you started stylizing your, um...diapers, a little bit, maybe you might not feel so bad about them anymore?” “Where...where did you find this?” Along the waistline there was a white string of ribbon woven in and out of the many slits, meaning to be tied and adjusted for tightening the cover around someone’s waist. The leg holes looked all bunched up, and when Jessica wordlessly tugged at them, she could see it was a stretchy material meant to be form-fitting. “That’s the best part, I had it specially made by the town’s tailor!” She was so giddy, a small giggle escaped her. “Don’t you just love the design?” “Y...yeah...” What was she supposed to say? Tira had poured her heart out for the girl, and had done it in such a...interesting...way. The thought of trying to cope with her diapers by wearing something like this was mortifying and absolutely horrible, but she couldn’t say that to Tira’s face. Not after everything she’s done… “Well, come on! Don’t you want to try it on?” “Ah...yes! Of-of course!” It had taken her a second to come back to reality. “But, uhm, I was just thinking, maybe I should wait to try it on once I get home...” Tira looked as if she were going to pout, puffing out her cheeks, looking playfully angry. “No, no! That will not do. How else am I supposed to see how you look in it?” Her assertiveness caught Jessica off guard, as the diaper cover was taken from her. It was apparently all in good fun though, as Tira laughed over her own silliness. “Indulge me a little, won’t you?” Holding them out nice and low, Jessica was forced to use the kneeling woman’s shoulders for balance while she reluctantly stepped into the diaper cover. As her legs brushed the material, she could tell it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill kind of sewing. A lot of Jessica’s gear and clothing were woven by thick and simple fabrics and thread. But this diaper cover had a much finer touch to it… Still, it was embarrassing to say that her best piece of clothing was a diaper cover… The leg holes expanded as much as they needed to accommodate the size of Jessica’s thighs. They wrapped around her legs perfectly, as her cloth diaper filled out the crotch area unfortunately nicely. You’d almost think the polka-dot design was part of the diaper itself. Before Jessica could move, Tira went for the tightening ribbon next, taking both ends and drawing them together. “Not too tight?” “N...no?” Tira played with the ribbon ends a little, but finally ended on a nice small bow tied on the front of Jessica’s diaper cover, letting the small decoration sit symmetrically on the front. It fit. Almost too well. “Oh, Jessica! You look amazing!” Jessica, rather, was blushing, trying not to contradict Tira’s positive vibes with her own, much honest ones… “Thanks...Tira.” “You’re very, very welcome!” Her eyes never seemed to leave Jessica’s padded posterior. “But there’s still more, you know!” More? Jessica was too shocked by the diaper cover alone to see anything else in the box, which is why it came as a surprise to see there was in fact something else in the box. God forbid, however, should it be something else childish or embarrassing. Yet, it was surprisingly tame? As tame the word “tame” could be. It was a simple pinafore dress, with its straps crossing over each other in an ‘X’ shape. Jessica didn’t know if you’d really catch her wearing one, but at least with this she could call it cute… “It’s really nice,” Jessica simply spoke, and this time she wasn’t lying. “Right? I thought it’d be a nice substitute for your normal gear.” “What?” Jessica spun her head. “What do you mean a substitute?” Tira looked a little confused, as if her point didn’t translate properly. “What you usually wear when you go questing? Don’t you think this would be better instead?” How was this any better? If anything, it was worse! Maybe she’d wear something like this if she were going out for a casual day, or some sort of event, but slaying monsters was definitely not on that list. “Sorry, Tira, but I don’t think it’d work very well with my leather armor pads...” It did feel bad to deny her generosity, but she tried to keep in mind that she was being decent enough to accept the diaper cover… “But...” Tira hesitated, as if it were something she shouldn’t say. “But do you really need to wear that sort of stuff?” The question was terribly blunt, and Jessica felt a large part of her pride break. “Don’t get me wrong!” Tira could see how much her words hurt, as she was quick to explain. “All I mean is, since you’ve been back to harvesting grass...there isn’t so much a need to be dressed like that, you know?” The one person who Jessica had considered on her side, had seemingly left to join the others. Not even Tira was calling her into question. It was a brutal, chilling honesty that Jessica tried to desperately not to acknowledge. But now that Tira was of the same mindset too, no matter where she’d turn, no one would ever consider her a real adventurer. “Leather is great for when you’re embarking on some minor explorations and slaying quests, but...” she awkwardly smiled as if it made things any better. “Grass is a bit more docile...” Jessica quietly stuck her fingers at the various buckles to her leather padding, first losing the elbows, shoulders, chest, and finally knees. Now she wore nothing more than her shirt, diaper, and diaper cover. Had you seen her now, you wouldn’t think twice about writing her off as an adventurer. Even if she showed you her official card, you might think it’s forged, considering most adventurers know how to keep their pants dry without a little extra help… “Please don’t be sad, Jessica, I really want you to feel better.” As she tried her best to console, she still helped Jessica put the dress on, who was stuck in her own kind of trance. The straps came over her shoulders, as the dress fit unfortunately nicely as well. With each step she took, the skirt to the dress swayed to-and-fro. There was an odd emptiness between her diaper and the outside world now, as Jessica glanced at a nearby mirror seeing the skirt cover her backside in full. That was the one relief, she supposed. But still, she didn’t see an adventurer anymore. All there was now was a small, errand girl that kept her missions on the more peaceful side of things. She wore no armor, had no weapon, but did she really need them? No. By this point, she was clearly just trying to overcompensate for something else; her lack of dignity, maturity, and capability. “You look great!” Tira pulled Jessica in for a hug, who weakly hugged back. “And if it’s any help, I’ll hang onto these for the time being...” She bent over to collect all of Jessica’s leather gear, who almost tried to stop her, but was too afraid of Tira being truthful once again. Her gear was whisked away and hidden behind the desk. Gone for who knows how long. “Oh, and there’s one other thing...” There was more? “The town alchemist? She’s my sister, actually. Well, I’ve been really honest when I say she really appreciates the work you’ve been doing for her. So much, in fact, she’s really starting to see how much she loses out on when she puts the job through the adventurer’s guild.” Jessica was unfortunately too smart to know where this was going. “So...if you were interested, instead of taking the job through the guild and getting a minor fee subtracted, why not work for my sister directly?” There wasn’t anything wrong with the idea of helping out a person, but what hurt Jessica the most was the indirect effect of it. It was yet another degree of separation from the adventurer’s lifestyle she longed for. Already she’d lost her weapon, armor, modesty...potty training, but now she was going to lose the guild, as well! The alchemist, Tira’s sister, was probably going to outsource the job on her own regardless of Jessica’s answer, so once she does leave, what would be left for Jessica to do at the guild? Anything other than gathering grass was too unstable of a workflow, and unfortunately, she couldn’t handle any other sort of job… Did she even have a choice? “O...Okay...” “Really?” Tira smiled a wide grin. “That’s great! Really! I’ll be sure to tell her tonight. And even better, not only will her profits go up, but yours too! She’s even willing to offer you a room, if you’re serious about becoming her assistant! Oh...and...” she leaned a bit closer, as if for a whisper. “I already talked to her about your diapers...she doesn’t mind changing them, if you were worried about that.” Jessica did her best not to react, but how could she not when the woman that changed her diapers just outed her secret to someone? Well, not just anyone. It would be the next person in line to change Jessica when she didn’t do it for herself… And was it even a secret anymore? Surely not with this clothing. Maybe once she stood still, but what if the diaper sagged too much? Actually, maybe that was a plus for the diaper cover; now it may not sag so much… But what happens when she gets on her knees for the grass? Something told her the skirt wouldn’t be able to do its best job then… “I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you as much, anymore,” Tira hugged Jessica once again. “I promise I’ll try to find the time to visit you. Truthfully...” now she sounded a bit embarrassed, which was bewildering, considering the circumstances for Jessica. “I think I’m gonna miss being able to change you, like this...” Jessica didn’t know how to react anymore. That steep slope she was already sliding down was just about a vertical wall by this point. Trapped in freefall, she couldn’t afford to look back on the things that came whizzing by, otherwise she’d miss the next thing right around the corner. “But! I’m sure I’ll have a day off at some point, so don’t forget about me, got it?” She puffed out her cheeks. And Jessica, although weakly, genuinely smiled, hugging her back. It was a warm hug, but not warm enough to overshadow the even warmer feeling forming in the front of her diaper. “Good thing I went for the booster, huh?” She smiled, and Jessica merely blushed, looking away. “Okay, I can clean everything else up here at the end of the day. You just enjoy yourself for the rest of the day, okay? My sister should be ready for you tomorrow.” The pair re-entered the hallway, as Jessica felt a strange sensation. For once it didn’t come from her diaper area. Instead, it was from the room they just left. As if, as if she’d just left behind something important. Something essential to who she was as a person. But it was gone now, because she no longer had a reason to be here. Now, she was simply the grass-collecting alchemist assistant, working for a measly amount of silver along with a diaper change as needed. At least she got a free room… “Sorry about that!” Tira apologized to the lounging pair of adventurers, Faris and Vanessa. “We just needed to freshen up a little.” Jessica tried to look away when the pair were sizing her up, probably noticing the distinct change in apparel, as well as any indication of being an adventurer. “It looks cute,” Faris spoke simply, and her basic tone was enough for her partner to start laughing. Jessica was in such a rush to leave, her little jog unfortunately caught an uneven floorboard, which had her trip forward face-first. “Ouch...” “Jessica! Are you okay?” Tira nearly ran over, already moving around the desk, but Jessica was already getting up. “I’m...I’m fine...” she was doing her best not to cry. The fall hardly even fazed her, but she’d taken a much heavier tumble this past week, that was what she was feeling the brunt of the most. All she could hope now is that she’d finally hit rock-bottom, and that’d be it. “Um, excuse me?” it was Vanessa’s voice. Jessica against her better judgement turned her head to her, to see she was extremely close to her. Before she could even figure out what the woman wanted, a tug on the back of her dress’ skirt was enough of an answer. During her fall, her skirt must’ve fallen out of place, exposing her diaper for the other two veterans to see. Not like she had anything to prove, though. After all, they just saw her filling her pants... But...maybe they didn’t see this time? “Sorry about that...” Vanessa apologized. “Your...your diaper looks cute, though?” Maybe being an adventurer just wasn’t for her.

23 - Clear as Day “Really, though, you got me out of a tight spot,” he looked almost judgingly to his own mischief-maker. “No thanks to this one.” He faked a frown at her, then smiled. As he went on, his forearm was bent outwards at a 90-degree angle, so that Jackie could try and try again to leap for the hanging bar that was an arm and swing from it. She wasn’t so successful, but at least she had determination. “Mmm...” With her eyes looking closer to the ground than anything else, she just managed enough autonomy to stay by Michael’s side. Other than that, she was lost in her own thoughts and apprehensions. “Are you alright, by the way?” The question was direct enough to have her look right at him. “...Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just thinking...that’s all.” He didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t prod any further. “Daddy? Can we stop and see the monkeys first?” Jackie went on to ask, as she was currently trying to be one. “We’re gonna go and get some drinks first, okay? And besides, you still need to be punished for running away like that...” He looked over to Emily once again. “What do you think, Emily? Maybe as a punishment I should keep her from the monkeys?” Before she could even think of a response, Jackie with a sharp whine cut in. “NooOOooo! I’m already punished! See? I’m holding your hand! See?” She went on to send waves through her arm connected to her dad’s much larger one, though his didn’t shake as much. “And it’s going to stay like that for the rest of the day. If you keep on your best behavior for the rest of the day, maybe we’ll go and see them. Got it?” The little girl nodded as if her life depended on it. She suddenly assumed the composure of a puppet that only knew how to be controlled. The kind of absolute obedience you’d see in a child already on thin ice. The kind of resolve that’d dissipate in maybe 10 minutes, at most. Thankfully the line for drinks wasn’t terribly long. The only person who seemed to mind it though was of course the demographic which equated minutes of patience to hours. Jackie gave a few moans and groans, but a small reminder of what was at stake kept her in check. “Hi! What can I get you guys today?” The worker smiled behind the counter. “Hi,” Michael was the first to start. “I think I’ll have...” he quickly scanned the board. “Actually, could I just get a coffee?” “Sure, how would you like it?” “Just black, please. Medium.” Emily almost looked to him for a second, but managed to keep herself restrained. “Do you know what you want?” He asked Emily. “Don’t forget, my treat.” Silently, it seemed like he was trying to say ‘let loose,’ but she wasn’t feeling so adventurous right now. She wasn’t feeling anything good right now. “Could I have a second?” “Sure. Alright Jackie, that leaves you,” quickly he hoisted her up and into the air, giving her a nice view of the board above the worker. “What’s it gonna be?” “Umm...that one!” Quickly, she pointed to what her father could only imagine was a bright, dolled up picture of some new trending drink. Her means of selection though had him rolling his eyes, as the worker helplessly looked back to see what she might’ve been pointing at. “Jackie, sweetie, use your words. We can’t read your mind, hon.” “The mango one!” Clearly this wasn’t the full order, as her dad filled in the rest for her. “I think she wants the mango swirl. Just a small, please.” “Okay… And have you decided yet?” The attention fell back on Emily, who was nowhere near closer to a choice. Yet, oddly enough, she had a craving for something, and it hurt to acknowledge it. “I’ll take a coffee too, please. Just a small.” “Daddy,” Jackie suddenly and sharply cut in. “I want coffee too.” “Fifteen years from now, you can.” While Jackie had her momentary gasp and whine, Emily finished her business with the cashier. She couldn’t help but take a moment to smile at the small girl. “Ah…any special requests? Or would you like black too?” “No,” she paused for a second. “Could I get it with milk? Like, a cup of milk?” She looked to Michael, seeming self-conscious. “Is that okay?” “Go right ahead, I told you it’s on me!” She looked back to the worker and finalized her order. “Alrighty, this shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. You can go find a seat while we finish your order.” Michael paid as promised, and they found themselves a table with a set of chairs to sit in. With the way Jackie was fidgeting in hers, though, you’d think she was moments away from going overboard. For extra insurance, Michael kept a hand on the chair to keep it from rocking too much. “Why can’t I have coffee? I wanna drink some too.” “Coffee is when you need energy, and trust me, you have plenty enough sweatpea.” Even Emily struggled to not cock a smirk as the shaking chair was practically leaking an abundance of kinetic energy. “So does that mean your tired?” “You’re right on the money with that one. Someone manages to keep me on my toes 24/7...” The heavy allusion still went over the girl’s head, and after a few more seconds of watching her, Michael seemed complacent enough to look back to Emily. “So! Emily, what brings you to the zoo?” She should’ve expected it, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. “Uhm...well...” Why was it so much harder to speak now? Clearly she didn’t have nearly as much restraint when speaking with a six-year old, so how did it being an adult freeze her up? Surprisingly, Michael jumped back in. “Well, I’m here with Jackie because her school’s out for the week, so I figured I’d give her a few fun days out. But with the way she’s been acting maybe I need to reconsider...” slowly he turned his head to her, whilst Jackie continued to seem innocent. “Seriously, sometimes I can’t tell whether she’s just acting or truly doesn’t care?” It was only solidified as a joke when he was the first to laugh. “How did you find her, by the way?” “Like I said, she more or less found me,” she looked almost sheepish; thankful for an easy question. “I was sitting on a bench and she just took a seat right next to me.” Michael blinked. “R-really? Jackie, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?” Quickly he looked back to Emily, almost panicked for damage control. “Don’t get me wrong, though! I can’t thank you enough, but unfortunately not everyone can be as nice as you’ve been...” “I appreciate it, but really, I didn’t do much...” The praise felt unwarranted, and the further it pressed on her, the worse it made her feel. Positivity was the last thing she felt deserving of, considering the royal fuck-up she’d just caused right before this. Was this divine punishment or something? Maybe… “You may not feel like it, but you’re definitely my hero of the day. Jackie’s too.” “Right!” She giggled. “You’re-a superhero!” Emily stayed silent, and before Michael could speak, their order was called. “I’ll be just a second,” he was already standing from his seat. “And you,” he pointed to Jackie. “Not a muscle, got it?” Her response was to take a deep breath. “You two hold down the fort for me.” Kneeling on her seat, she watched her dad walk a decent distance away, then turned her head back to Emily. “Hey Emily? What’s your girlfriend’s name?” Why even with strangers could she not manage to run from it? No matter where she went, in some shape or form it always held her in such a tight, suffocating squeeze. “Her name is Joyce.” Miraculously, in the company of a child, a moment of silence went by. “...Do you wanna talk about something else?” “Did I say something mean?” The remorse she carried in her tone was heavy. As heavy as an ignorant kid could make it. “No, Jackie, it’s fine,” she did her best to smile. “It’s just a sore spot, that’s all.” “You should talk to my daddy about it. He’s good at fixing stuff!” If only it were that simple. Whenever emotions were involved, it always got so muddled and messy. Maybe it would help to talk about it though. Then again, Emily wasn’t so sure if she wanted help. She wanted to feel sad? Truly, her selfless nature is both her charm and unfortunate undoing. “You two getting along?” They were interrupted by a plastic tray of cups, two of which were filled with caffeine, and the other some milk and a mango smoothie. Before she could get her hands on it, Michael had taken the liberty of plopping a straw into his daughter’s cup, then properly instructing her on drinking etiquette. While they had their moment, Emily took her own time to figure out exactly what she ordered as well. It almost felt shameful to crave this kind of drink. Yet again, it was something special she’d felt she no longer had the right to even if she still felt the craving for it. Normally the milk would be poured into the coffee, but she went for the exact opposite strategy. A small brown trickle waterfalled into a pool of white, slowly changing it into a light brownish hue, drifting right on the cusp of something that couldn’t be called milk anymore. What she expected to be a solution however had her feeling even more glum. It doesn’t look the same… Never once did she see how it was made, and the visual result right this moment reflected that. She pulled it in for a sip, and while not displeased by it, she wasn’t happy with the taste either. “Sure you don’t want some coffee with that milk?” Michael chuckled as he watched, sipping his own drink. “Liking yours, Jackie?” “Mhm!” With both hands firmly secured around the cup, she sucked from her straw. Then as if brilliance itself had struck her, she suddenly popped an awkward question. “Hey Daddy, what does ‘flirting’ mean?” Emily paused her sip to hear the question, unfortunately knowing too well where she might’ve heard such a thing. Why did this kid have to be so curious? “Flirting? Where’d you hear something like that?” “Emily said it! She said I was trying to flirt with her!” Her cheeks were feeling incredibly hot right now, and suddenly started trying to explain herself, but was caught in a helpless stutter. How bad must she look right now? If he didn’t think it before, Michael would definitely think she’s a wacko now… “Well?” Surprisingly, he looked to Jackie. “Were you flirting with her?” “I dunno what that means!” She shouted back with a mix of frustration and silliness. “Sorry about that, Emily,” he shrugged. “I guess she might even be a womanizer without even knowing it...” Once again an awkward situation had been saved, and replaced with a well-executed humor which had Emily and Michael laughing, though only at the expense of Jackie’s confusion. “At least tell me how you got on that kind of topic?” he took another sip from his cup. “It’s kind of a long story, I guess,” Emily chuckled, losing the joy in her voice awfully fast. “Sorry, I really don’t want to pry,” Michael started, looking concerned. “But are you sure everything’s alright? You seem bothered by something.” “It...it’s...” Before she could even deflect, a much more forward, higher-pitched voice spoke in her place. “Emily had a fight with her girlfriend Joyce!” Both adults turned to the fed-up looking Jackie, one much more uncomfortable than the other. “Daddy? Can you please help her feel better? She was really sad when I found her!” In her eyes, it really seemed like that was the solution to all of this. Yet, the lack of immediate response from either adult had her suddenly shy. “Jackie...” Emily couldn’t place a definite emotion to her words. It was a terrible mix, really. Disappointment, frustration, anger, and relief. Something she was insistent on keeping hidden was crudely yanked right out and into the open, but at the same time the daunting responsibility of being honest was handled for her. Nevertheless, she wasn’t happy, but it wasn’t her place to scold Jackie, and truly she didn’t want to. Jackie’s heart was certainly in the right place, but that didn’t change the look her dad gave her, signaling she made a bad move. She looked sheepish, staring down at the ground, biting her lower lip. Michael sighed, looking to his daughter then Emily, who wasn’t making so much eye contact either. He’d apologized plenty enough for one day, and he carried the sentiment that those words had long lost their charm. Nevertheless, “Emily, really I’m--” He was cut short by the scratching of a metal chair on the rocky ground. Michael was caught by surprise...and so was Emily, when a small pair of feet excused themselves from the table. Though, sounding much more resolute, Michael quickly shut the situation down before it could fester. “Oh no, not this time, young lady.” With a quick grip he had her by the armpits whilst she thrashed and threw a whining fit. From the corners of her eyes Emily could see a few stares, but thankfully they were sympathetic enough to not ogle for too long… “Let me go!” Poutily, Jackie shouted to her father’s face. She already sounded to be on the verge of tears. “So you can run off again?” He lowered her just enough to sit in his lap, but still had a firm hold of her. “You were just punished for doing this! Are you ready to leave the zoo altogether?” The threat hit her too hard though, as her voice trembled with a quiet no. “Then why are you trying to get yourself into trouble again? Come on, Jackie, talk to me?” With each word he spoke, Jackie seemed to whimper more and more, as she buried her face into her dad’s chest. Mumbling with a teary voice she shouted into his shirt. “B-b-because you guys are mad at me! I wanted to help! Now you don’t like me and Emily doesn’t too!” Her absolute truths had her crying even harder, as Michael shifted his restraint tactics into a much more soothing comfort. “Jackie, baby, no one here is mad at you...” he rubbed her back. “That’s not true! I told Emily’s secret!” It wasn’t so much of a secret, but Emily’d have been lying if she said it was something she didn’t mind leaving in the open… “...N-now she hates me...” It hurt Emily more to watch than to try and empathize. Yet again she was the root of a whole new issue. It was her fault for even telling Jackie anything in the first place. She was just trying to help in the only way she knew how. How could Emily be angry at her? She never was to begin with, but it didn’t change she led her to feel this way. “Jackie? Could you please look at me?” After a little more coaxing, she did turn her head to Emily, but her arms never left her dad’s torso. Her face was red and she was sniffling, but her attention was there. “Jackie, I promise I’m not mad at you. You can’t get on my bad side that easily,” she chuckled, hoping to inspire some sort of joy, but the girl still seemed troubled… “But I told your secret...” Her mouth struggled to wrestle her voice into submission, as her words were a few degrees away from total incoherent, sobbing murmurs. Were all kids like this? How self-destructive could such a tiny person be? She cared about Emily, that much was evident, but she cared a little too much… “You didn’t spoil any secret, I promise,” Emily assured with a smile, which came with a relief, as she had finally seemed to calm some. “T-then, how come you d-didn’t wanna talk about it...?” “Because...sometimes it’s a little hard to talk about stuff like that...” Now with Michael as their audience, she unfortunately couldn’t be as cryptic anymore. Did she even need to be, though? “It only happened today, so I guess I’m still upset over it...” A very, very large underestimate of how she was really feeling, but she was out here to make a point, rather than illustrate a scene. “Is that what has you so gloomy?” Michael asked in a simple tone toward Emily, still stroking Jackie’s back. “...Jackie wasn’t lying when she said I had a fight with my girlfriend…” Her eyes started to shine a bit more as they became glossier. “I...” Now it was her turn to sound shaky. “I really messed up...” Her sister in sorrow tried to egg her father on, practically begging, “Daddy! Please! See? Can’t you make her feel better?” “Honey, I know you’re trying to be nice, but we can’t just step into people’s private lives like that. I wish I could fix anything, but daddy isn’t that powerful,” he patted the top of her head. “Emily’s business is hers, and we don’t have the right to talk about it unless she says it’s okay.” His explanation was interpreted more as a redirection than a final answer, as Jackie was now begging Emily who was wiping her eyes. “Emily? Please talk to Daddy? He can help!” She was quiet, and Jackie stared at her with a hope that was impossible to ignore. That didn’t mean Emily would answer the call, however. She didn’t know what to do, where to go, what to say, or how to react. The table was loaded, and she could go either all in or fold. Both options seemed scary, but only one seemed to have a sensible idea of even potential resolution. “...Emily, I’m no superhero, but I can at least be an ear for you?” Still, she hung on the fence. “And if it’s any incentive, I think Jackie would feel much better if we talked things over?” That was just playing dirty… Emily slightly narrowed her brows without looking at anyone in particular. But...maybe that sort of push was what she needed. Finally, she stared at Michael with a clear expression. “...Okay.” “Alright, Jackie, Emily and I are going to be right here the whole time, understood?” His voice seemed to be equal parts reassuring and warning. Even when trapped in a fence pen, he still didn’t seem to put past the idea of his daughter somehow escaping unnoticed. A much more cheery-looking six-year old nodded her head. “But what if I wanna feed them?” “Then you come back to me and ask for some money, alright? Until then go have some fun while Emily and I talk.” “Why can’t I listen though?” “Because you’re already pushing your luck, missy. Don’t you want to go and pet the goats now?” She looked frustrated, namely because he hit the nail right on the head. She was clutching the hem of her dress with both hands, slightly puffing her cheeks. “...Yeah...” “Then what are you waiting for?” He gave a slight laugh. “Oh! See? One already noticed you!” All three people focused their attention to a pygmy animal, topped with tiny horns as it curiously walked itself over to the girl on all four legs, covered in black fur. Without even waiting for her dad’s approval, Jackie was already off to the races to meet the tiny goat halfway. “She’s really sociable, don’t you think?” Emily observed with a smile, watching her happily lose herself to petting the tiny friend. A nearby worker in the pen soon came over to her, getting on their knees and started petting too. Along with that, they seemed to strike up a conversation. “Yeah, definitely,” he smiled, but in the sort of way that you’d think it was against his better judgement. “That doesn’t mean it can’t get her into trouble, though… I’m sorry she outed you like that. She’s forcing you to talk about something you didn’t want to.” “That may be sort of true...” she twiddled her thumbs a little, thinking. “But also, maybe some force is what I needed. I don’t want to feel this way anymore… And just thinking about her...” About Joyce, where she was, how she was feeling…! In a broken voice she spoke. “...It hurts...” A hand reached her right shoulder, and though it wasn’t her beloved, she didn’t push it away. “So, what’s her name?” “...Joyce.” “Have you two been together for long?” Maybe not in the grand scheme, but it already felt like they’d been together for an eternity. What they didn’t have in time they made up for in such intense experiences, such intimacy. “Not too long, but we’re close.” And that’s why being separated right now hurt so much. “So, wait, is she at the zoo right now?” “I think so...” Was she still here? Or once the phone stopped ringing, had she completely given up and sent herself and her parents home? She squeezed her arms a little tighter. She didn’t like thinking about things like that… “Wait, that means you’ve been with us the whole time? How did you two get into a fight?” This was the difficult part. Trying to explain herself without fully letting the cat out of the bag. Maybe because Michael was a stranger though, she could be a little more transparent. There was something easier about confiding in a stranger than someone close. You could scream into a black hole and never feel the repercussions. “She...she was treating me like a kid.” “Oh? How so?” There were a few points from today she could mention, but she decided to skip to the crux. “Since we got here she’s been trying to hold my hand, for example. It’s like she thinks I’m going to get lost like…” The irony was a little too obvious, looking at Jackie. “Like a kid?” Michael thankfully finished her sentence, seeming in no way offended. “...Yeah.” “Well, okay. Did anything else happen?” He didn’t seem to have an expectation for more, or any less on her list of complaints; he was thankfully being quite neutral. “Like, when we went to go see the giraffes, there were a ton of people already there, so I needed to get closer! You know, given that I’m kinda shorter than everyone else...” The more she rambled, it was easier to find that original annoyance that had spurred this all into motion to begin with. “Anyways, so I moved up closer for a few minutes, but then everyone is calling for my name like I was lost! Can I not be trusted?” “Did you tell her you were gonna get a little closer?” She was about to fire back a response, but by the way he phrased his question, Emily seemed a tad bit reluctant. “...No? But, I shouldn’t need to! Right after they started calling for me, I was making my way back, but...I thought it’d be funny if I snuck up on her.” “To surprise her?” “Yeah, I guess.” It made more sense when you had the context from the first time in the kitchen, but given she was wearing a diaper that day, she didn’t feel the need to include that story. “So I did sneak up on her, and when I grabbed her, she wasn’t laughing...she was angry for a few seconds, then just disappointed...” “Disappointment...” Michael solemnly spoke. “No one ever wants to be on the receiving end of that.” “No. No one does.” “So is that how you wound up here then? I want to make sure I understand everything clearly.” Emily stared off for a few moments, admiring the pygmy goats, watching a staff member show Jackie just the right way to pet one. She was kind of jealous, wanting to go lose herself to cuteness instead of tackling these emotionally difficult conversations… “I tried talking to her about it after, but then her parents showed up, so she said she’d save it over later, then pretended like nothing happened...” Just when the ball was about to tip back into Michael’s court, she kept going. “And then I tried again when we were alone, talking about how she was treating me like a kid, but all I did was hurt her feelings! I kept messing up...so I figured it was better if I just backed off… Now, we’re here...” “Alright...I think I understand everything.” The pair kept looking forward. “Do you want a hug, by the way? It usually works for Jackie when I give her one?” He gave her a smirk, and Emily didn’t look happy. “Didn’t I just finish saying my girlfriend was treating me like a kid?” His look didn’t change when he said it plainly. “I think that’s your first issue.” His matter-of-factness was somewhat intimidating, which is why Emily didn’t speak back. “What I mean is that accepting someone’s care doesn’t make you inferior, or as you put it, a kid. I think...” and as he said, he thought for a moment. “I think that plays into being a person, and what a relationship should be like. But, to be a bit more specific, why was she holding your hand?” “...To keep track of me. But I don’t need keeping track of! Ugh...and I hate being annoyed with her like this!” “Trust me, that’s a good thing.” “How is that good?” “Because after almost ten years with my wife, the occasional struggle usually does some good for a relationship. It shows that if you’re still in one piece by the end of it, you’re that much stronger together.” “But we haven’t made up yet...” “That part comes after a little self-reflection. Truthfully, this may not be the best time for it...” It stung, hearing that. “But, you’re doing the right thing to face your troubles, regardless.” “It doesn’t feel very great.” Emily sourly added. Again, he agreed. “No, it doesn’t, but you’re going to feel a lot better by the time this is over.” She didn’t have the heart to challenge his certainty. “Back to the hand-holding thing; if I were her, and we were together, I wouldn’t exactly want to leave you out of sight either if we were at a place like this. Not because I think you’re a kid, but because this is a pretty packed place. Even if you were taller, I’d still want you close, and in all honesty I would appreciate it if you thought the same of me. She cares like that because she’s your partner, Emily.” It’s not that she doubted him; she believed him, even. That being said, was it that simple? There was a whole layer of context to this that Emily wasn’t giving, and it was that she practically was Joyce’s kid in their private life. So maybe it was a little bit of both? Maybe Emily was so used to the other side, she’d forgotten how to discern the qualities of a ‘normal’ relationship. Trying to relax herself today; was that Emily letting herself go, or was that letting Emmy back out? There were four people in the mix of all this, and they were all struggling to coexist. “So it’s all my fault then? I’m the reason it’s all messed up?” “I’ve only heard your side, Emily. I can’t point out faults in a person I don’t know. Instead of taking the blame in shifts, though, I suggest you look at it as a problem for both of you. Don’t think about who needs to improve or change; think about what you two can do together. No one is perfect, so I doubt this is only because of you. Besides, you really can’t think that you’ve messed everything up, do you?” Emily gave him a look with raised brows. She didn’t seem to agree. “Well, you’re obviously invested enough to talk it through with a stranger right now, aren’t you?” “...” “Unless you hate her now, is that it?” “No!” Emily was quick on the rebound for once, firing back sharply. How could he even suggest something like that? To even voice the impossible idea, it was practically taboo! “See? First time I’ve heard some real passion from you. Why don’t you hate her? Seems to me like you still have feelings for her.” “Of course I do!” She sounded a little annoyed, as if her feelings were being called into question. Then, in a bit more of a reserved tone, she mumbled. “...I love her...” “And given how she’s been treating you, I think it’s fair to say she feels the same way?” “...Well...yeah...” She nearly called him Captain Obvious, but that only signified how natural she considered her bond with Joyce. She never once stopped to consider how it might seem from the outside looking in. Her feelings for Joyce...by this point, she nearly considered them a given. “And that, is why you’re being such a dummy right now.” A dummy? Her? She was conveying herself better through her facial expressions than actual words. “Let me reiterate; I’m being your friend right now. If you both love each other so much, you’re taking this whole thing a bit too heavily. Have you two ever gotten into an argument before?” There were small bouts, especially earlier on, but never as an official couple… It was always just going with the flow. Everything was either understood or accepted. “Not to this scale, I guess...” “Emily, trust me, you two will be fine.” “But what about her parents? They’re here too! And I just...disappeared.” “I can’t imagine it looks all that great to them, but if they care too, they’re going to respect how you and Joyce work things out, even if they have their own opinions.” Frank and Mary’s reactions were something she never even stopped to imagine. But...Michael had a point. It wasn’t their place to judge… At least, it wasn’t Emily’s responsibility to care. Still, she hated the idea of upsetting them. “You being such a worrywart reminds me of Jackie.” “I’m not worrying...I just want everyone to be happy...” “My point still stands. You’re trying too hard to serve to please. Remember how Jackie had that meltdown back at the cafe? What upset her the most was what other people thought of her. She thought she was helping you when she said what she did, and when that didn’t work out she tried to run. I don’t mean anything rude by it, but don’t you think you’re being a bit like her right now?” “Maybe I am just a kid then...” “No, I just think you need to know your limits. When you tried talking to Joyce and hurt her feelings, it could’ve been something you said that was wrong, but maybe you said something that was right? If the truth hurts Joyce, you shouldn’t be the one on the run. You shouldn’t lie to her either, because then you’re just letting the problem fester. Now’s the time for discussion; to move forward as a pair. You help her work through her issues. If she can’t accept the facts, that’s not your burden to carry. Don’t you think she’s wondering where you are right now? I would. Taking a few steps back is always good every now and then, but is it really someone like me you want to be talking things over with?” “...N-n-” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes. Halfway through his spiel, Emily was already losing herself. “No…!” “Now’s the time you guys should be talking things over. I think it was right of you to try talking to her, and nipping the bud before it can bloom is always a smart move. Joyce isn’t just your rock, you know? It goes both ways.” Her day was still cloudy, and the storm was crashing hard, but finally she could see. Amidst the thick, dense downpour, and the harsh blowing winds that had thrown her ship into a complete tizzy, there was finally a direction; a hope. She was too blubbering of a mess to respond, but Michael’s point was clear, and the course was set. She was part of the problem, but she wasn’t the sole proprietor of it. She did mess up, but she wasn’t the only one who did. What’s been done has been done, and now all that was left was to chin-up and face it head on. “Do you know the next step now?” “Y-yeah...” Her hand was already fishing in her pocket. “Daddy!” Hurriedly, a pair of shoes ran themselves across the dried mulch, almost skidding like a car on the brakes when she came close to the fence. “Why is Emily crying? Did you say something mean?” Her tone came off as accusing, as she gave her dad the evil eye. “No, I did not,” he answered poutily. “Emily is doing just fine. I think we just finished talking things through.” “Emily?” With great concern, she shuffled over to the teary girl. “Do you feel better?” Finally she found her phone, illuminating the screen, seeing the countless calls and texts. It hurt to see so many unanswered calls, but they were momentary hiccups. “Yeah, lots...” Oddly enough, she smiled, looking at the phone, and was already hopping over to her contacts. “Really?” Jackie’s smile was wide and bright, giving a nice view of her one missing tooth on her near-perfect rack. “Do you wanna come and pet the goats? They’re really soft! Please? They taught me how to pet them!” She was nearly hopping from toe to toe, as her father had saved the day once again. “Emily’s gonna need a bit, Jackie. You’re gonna have to settle for your dad on this one.” He tried not to laugh when she gave an aggravated groan. “Oh? Suddenly Daddy’s not good enough for you anymore?” “Why can’t Emily come too?” “Because she needs to talk to someone very important.” “Thank you, Michael.” Clear as day, she said to him. She then looked a little lower. “And especially you, Jackie. I have you to thank the most.” The praise sent the tiny girl into overload, who looked unashamedly giddy. “All in a day’s work!” He was already stepping inside the pen. “Now go do what you need to do.” With some confidence shining in her eyes, she nodded her head. She nearly hesitated, hitting the ‘call’ button, but she soon made a clean press with diction. While Michael managed to drag Jackie away, Emily held the phone to her ear with both hands, and apart from the silence over the line, all she could hear was the heavy thump of her heart. How long had she been gone for? Thirty minutes? Forty? An hour? No! Stop thinking about the damage that’s been done. Now was the time for repair… The buzz came twice now. If...if that time would ever come to pass… Maybe it wouldn’t… The third was ringing right now. It couldn’t really be over, could it? What if she… She heard her voice, but it wasn’t the right kind. Digital, synthetic, but the worst: pre-recorded. “Hi, you’ve reached Joyce’s personal number. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you’d like to leave a message I can...” The phone slowly fell to her side. That was it then? She was gone? Stupid, stupid, stupid--! “Emily?” As she spun her head, everything was a blur, yet even in that split-second, one thing was clear enough. She was there; in the flesh. It wasn’t a phone call, because Emily could see her face for real. She looked as if she was catching a few extra breaths, as if she’d been running around quite a bit. “J...Joyce?” Neither one seemed to change their expression, which was disbelief. There was a weird feeling in the air, as they both slowly walked to each other. It wasn’t sparks, it was something much gloomier... Emily almost forgot the right foot came after the left. Her eyes were still working, right? Wasn’t she supposed to blink every few seconds? “...Hi..” What was she supposed to do? She knew what the end goal was, but not the meat of it. There was at least a foot between them, and neither one had budged. The tension was obvious, and it came from both people; fear. “Have...have you been looking for me?” Wordlessly, Joyce nodded her head. Emily was expecting all of this, but it didn’t change how much it was shaking her, and how vast of a difference there was between imagination and the real deal. “I...I messed up,” Emily couldn’t help but hiccup. “Didn’t I?” “I did too...” Joyce cast her eyes to the ground. “I...” she started sniffling too. “I...I don’t like fighting.” “I don’t either...” “Can, can we talk now? I...I think we need to.” The world around them started to reel back into reality as the pieces fell back into place. They moved themselves to an empty bench, still with that awkward atmosphere. Both kept their hands in their laps as they maintained their distance. Emily was the first to speak. “I’m sorry for running away... Please don’t be mad.” “I’m sorry for giving you a reason!” The words came fast, as they finally looked at each other, and Joyce seemed the most apologetic of the two. “You tried to talk to me, and I wasn’t ready to hear the truth...I was the one in the wrong Emily, and when you tried to point that out I pushed you away… So please!” Her words sounded as if they rung from her very core. “Please, if anyone needs to be sorry, please don’t let it be you. From the start I was scared of losing you, and I still am now, so please, don’t think this is your fault!” Seeing Joyce so frazzled, you’d think it would send Emily into hysterics. But, no, it didn’t. Seeing the one she relied on the most in panicked shambles...it was sobering. Had she forgotten her own words so quickly? Even Michael’s? Joyce was in the wrong, but so was Emily. This wasn’t a solo, but a duet. “No,” Emily moved her hand, paused, but then finally grabbed Joyce’s. “It’s our fault.” Joyce’s face scrunched up a little as she was getting teary now. She nodded, being the one to close the distance, now that it was clear affection was okay, and she slid Emily closer for a tight hug. “I’m sorry for getting so carried away today…! I let my feelings get the better of me...” “It’s my fault for not considering how you felt,” Emily sullenly added. “At least from the zoo, I was too busy thinking you were trying to ‘mommy’ me instead of just keeping me safe… I should have done the same for you.” “All I’ve ever wanted was to keep you safe, Emily!” She rubbed her cheek with hers. “But I can see how you must’ve felt after everything today. You were trying to be yourself, and I kept forcing something on you that I shouldn’t have. I’m struggling to keep my feelings separate from the ‘other’ ones...” Hence why it was hard to see this as a normal relationship. She didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, but she needed to come clean as well. “Today, I know we talked about how we were both going to be normal adults...but it didn’t feel like we were. It felt like...the usual.” Quietly, she nodded her head, sniffling. “Can you be honest with me? Were you angry at me?” “No, I’d never be.” If anything was certain, that was her one sense of immovable resolve. As if to prove it, she felt the need to hug Joyce back a little harder. “I just felt...annoyed, I guess. I don’t wanna be belittled like that unless I say it’s okay, Joyce. Either that, or at least when it’s just us two… Please don’t be upset with me?” “I have no right to be upset with you, Emily. You’ve had clear boundaries since the start, yet I’ve slowly been ignoring them. I’ve always been telling myself that your feelings come first, and yet I managed to mess up what mattered most.” “Don’t say that, please? After everything today, I don’t think you went overboard. I think what we both messed up at was keeping level heads. You couldn’t stop looking after me, and I couldn’t stop seeing every little thing like I was being mocked. Maybe if we both had the right mindset, it would’ve been different.” “That’s...” her voice trailed off the path, then suddenly found its way again. “I think you’re right. It doesn’t excuse me for everything, but I think that’s where we fell apart… When something wasn’t clear, we should have been talking about it from the start. I need to do better at remembering that...” “I’ll try to use my words more if you do too?” Emily finally smiled, giving a slight giggle. God, did it feel good to be hugging again. She was nearly about to leap from her frozen, desolate cliff just from thinking how she’d never get to experience something like this ever again. It was a thought she couldn’t bear to live with. “Sounds like a plan. And for starters, I’m saying this as a girlfriend, and not a parental figure; don’t disappear on me like that again? I don’t think my heart can handle losing you for a third time.” Meekly, she apologized once again. “Just don’t leave me, either...” “As if I’d ever leave without you.” She finished her statement with a wet kiss on the cheek, and Emily’s symptoms of withdrawal were already fading. “I can’t apologize enough for putting you in a position like that. I’m supposed to be the one that understands you the most...” “You do.” Emily looked to her with a crease in her brows. “So...so don’t act like you don’t.” Was she actually taking charge for once? Joyce was picking up on the strangeness as well, chuckling as she agreed. “Alright, maybe I do. Maybe I just had some...clouded judgement today, I guess. Don’t be afraid to tug on my leash a bit if I’m getting too out of hand though, okay?” “Got it.” There was more breathing now than actual conversation. It was beyond wonderful to be whole once again, but something still felt amiss. All the boxes had been ticked off except for one...but which was it? “...Hey Joyce?” “Mhm?” “I...I love you, you know.” “I love you, too.” Now things were perfect. “Wait,” the peaceful moment came to a stop, when Emily finally pulled away. “Where are your parents? Are...are they mad at me?” “Oh, uhm...” “What did you tell them?” “I wasn’t really sure what to say, so I came up with something fast?” “What did you say?” “You needed to use the bathroom?” “What, like it was an emergency, or something?” Quietly, Joyce nodded her head the slightest bit. Emily groaned. “Great, now they’re gonna think I can’t keep my pants dry, either...” The pair’s bond felt renewed and refreshed, but already the past was starting to sully that shine... “Emily, you really don’t give them enough credit. They’ve only said good things about you, and only time is going to set that in stone. Besides, you’ve gotta go when you’ve gotta go, even when you don’t!” She saw Emily’s look before she started to laugh. Clapping her hands together she begged, “Please let this one slide?” “Fine...” Emily mumbled. It wasn’t like Joyce could control what she said in the past right now. Still, it didn’t exactly seem like progress… “Do you wanna pack it in early? I know I put you through a lot…” already she was looking guilty. “I promise you won’t hear anything about babying for the rest of the night--for the whole time my parents are here,” she hurriedly corrected. “...I mean, we can...” Emily’s voice hung on the fence. Joyce raised her brows in surprise. “But...we didn’t even get to see the otters, yet?” “You mean you still…?” A finger shushed her lips. “Your punishment for today...” Emily breathed through her nose, as if she were preparing to deal out some heavy-handed consequences. “I wanna see any--no, every, animal attraction here.” “All of it?” “Each one. And!” More demands? “I wanna go in there.” Without even needing to look, she blindly, yet with a great deal of accuracy, pointed to the petting zoo. Seeing Jackie in there was still teasing her with a few pangs of jealousy. “After we find your parents though.” Her confidence wasn’t so abundant anymore. “I don’t want to keep them waiting...U-understood?” H...H-hahaha!“ Joyce couldn’t help it anymore, as Emily quietly blushed. “I wasn’t kidding!” Emily whined, trying the shake the nonsense out of Joyce’s brain. “No, no, that’s not it~!” Her silly composure then stiffened into a grave seriousness. “Your demands shall be met, o’ evil one!” Once more she softened. “It just seemed so out of character for you, that’s all. And you’re right, I know they probably liked being able to sit down for a bit, but we should get back to my mom and dad before anything else.” “Alright. And Joyce...thank you for forgiving me.” “I should be the one thanking you. Regardless, let’s put this behind us, okay?” “Okay… I’m just a little scared, I guess.” “About what?” “About next time.” Next time at this point could mean a lot of things. “Which next time?” “When I start calling you...Mommy...again. I don’t want things to be awkward. I only wanted to talk about what happened in public today. Everything else has been...manageable.” Fine wouldn’t have been the best way to put it, considering messing herself was certainly not high on her list of “complacent things to do.” “I think I still want to have a chat about where we stand...but I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for being so honest with me. I never thought someone would ever give me the chance to fulfill myself like this, Emily. Ever before. So to not only do that for me, and forgive me for what I’ve done...” her voice was starting to become strained. “No more tears, got it?” Emily haughtily spoke, wrists poised on her hips. “Not only because I don’t wanna see you sad, but even on my tippy-toes it’s hard to kiss you...” the second bit came as a bit more flustered. “Then let’s get moving. If we stick around here all day I don’t think I’ll stop being so mopey,” Joyce chuckled. “I think there’s a map board nearby...” “You don’t know where we are?” “Well, you try chasing me in a panic and remember where you are at the same time?” “...Sorry.” “Don’t worry, I’m kidding. Now we can look back on this and laugh. After hearing your words of wisdom, I think I feel a lot better now, too.” And if only they were hers. She smiled in secret, knowing she owed a huge debt to such a kind stranger, and his six-year old daughter, funnily enough. Michael was right. So easily they’d solved such a simple hiccup from talking things out… From the start Joyce has always encouraged honesty, but maybe the biggest challenge was getting them both to be champions of it. Just as Joyce started walking forward, she felt a tug from behind on her hand. “W-wait!” Joyce turned her head, surprised to find Emily’s hand in hers. “Emily? But I thought...?” “That...that was before. Now that I know what I do now...it’s okay.” She started looking from side to side. “Either that, or maybe I don’t mind so much… I need to make sure you don’t get lost.” Joyce looked reserved for a moment, thinking to herself, but a sudden squeeze from Emily had her beaming. The pair moved as one, and Emily looked one last time to the petting zoo. Were they still there? Regardless, Emily hoped both Michael and Jackie could somehow feel her thanks and gratitude. “Wait! Wait! WAIT!” A voice shouted desperately from a distance as it came closer and closer. As Emily was turning, the sudden outside force caused her to topple and stagger a bit when Jackie wrapped her arms around her legs. How many surprises was today going to have? “Jackie? What are you doing?” Taking her by the shoulders, Emily managed to pry her free, giving herself a moment to bend her knees. “Your dad is gonna get mad again, you know?” She was at a moral crossroads, as she panicked looking behind her shoulder and back to Emily. “But you were leaving!” Heartbreaking was probably the best way to put it, considering she was just about to leave for good without saying goodbye. It was hard to be stern with her, but that didn’t mean she condoned it either. She settled with herself with just a sigh. “Does your dad know you’re here?” “Nnn...no…” Momentarily, Emily forgot who was listening in, as Joyce right beside her crouched down a bit as well, all smiles as she looked to Jackie. The tiny girl grew bug-eyed once she saw her, popping an extremely blunt and forward question. “Are you Emily’s girlfriend?” The change in tune was so jarring, everyone was a mix of reactions; Emily slowly turned her reddening face away, while Jackie still looked to her girlfriend so innocently, and Joyce kept laughing. “So she’s told you about me? I hope they were good things...” Lying was obviously not part of the six-year old’s skillset, as she made odd thinking noises; gears were turning too hard to not be an indication of an unfortunate answer. Apart from looking slightly hurt, she kept smiling. “Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?” “Mmmm...Ja….ckie…” For some strange reason she drew out her answer by each syllable, adding some strange twists and turns to her own body as well. Was this her way of being shy? “Jackie, huh? That’s a pretty name! My name is Joyce.” Emily, meanwhile, was keeping to herself. The compliment inflated her ego like a balloon, as she was looking unashamedly cheerful again, feeling the need to now boast her accolades. “Mhm! I’m six!” In case if the words were too confusing, she gave a visual with her fingers as well. “Oh wow!” Joyce kept a hand over her mouth, restraining a gasp. If only she were there the first time Jackie was having a meltdown. Joyce was the expert when it came to handling kids… “And I’m Emily’s friend!” She shouted it like her proudest achievement, which of course tickled Emily’s heart a little, who couldn’t help but smirk as she tried to look at something else. Joyce snickered as she looked to Emily, then to Jackie. “That’s really great, Jackie. Thank you for taking care of her while I was gone. I think we were both feeling pretty sad, earlier. Hey, do you think we could be friends, too?” “Umm...I dunno...” “You don’t? Why not?” “Because you’re dissa...mmm...” she struggled to remember how the word went. “Dis-a-poin...ted. Dis-a-ppoin-ted, at her.” Finally after carefully sounding it out, she was able to voice what Emily told her earlier. “I don’t wanna be friends if you’re still fighting with her.” “Jackie, I would never be disappointed in Emily.” Her words were firm yet gentle. “We may have gotten into an argument, but I can promise you we made up. Right, Emily?” She looked to her with a warm expression, and Emily answered the same. “It’s okay, Jackie, we’re not fighting anymore.” She still seemed to be fishing for confirmation. “Promise?” “Pinky promise,” Emily spoke with certainty. Then to her surprise Jackie called her bluff, sticking out her pinky. She couldn’t just leave the girl hanging, as Emily wringed her finger with Jackie’s. “Okay, I believe you! We can be friends!” She started to giggle. Joyce looked overjoyed as she received the good news, though going on to ask, “Now, can you tell us where your dad is?” “Uhm...over there.” She pointed at a direction leading back to the petting zoo, which, funnily enough, had a tall man walking towards them. “JACKIE!” It was obvious he was yelling, but that was partly because of the distance his voice needed to travel. When he got closer he seemed a bit more calm as he placed a hand on the girl’s head. “Are my warnings not getting through to you? How many times have we talked about this today?” “But Emily was gonna leave!” “That’s because she’s very busy. We can’t interrupt her and her girlfriend...” he sighed, then looked to Joyce. “I’m sorry about that. I’m still working on teaching her how boundaries work...” “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she waved it off with a laugh. “It was nice meeting her. And...thank you, for speaking with Emily. She’s talked some sense into me, to say the least.” “Yeah, thank you, really.” For once, Emily wasn’t looking sheepish as she expressed the same kind of gratitude to Michael. “Really, it wasn’t much. Just gave her my opinion on things, that’s all. Everything else was all Emily. And sorry, I don’t think I ever introduced myself. I’m Michael,” he shook hands with Joyce. “Joyce, a pleasure to meet you, and your daughter.” “I’m Jackie!” The girl suddenly jumped in. “Alright, calm down there, tiger. I think everyone here knows who you are...” “Actually, do you think I could get your number or email?” Joyce asked. “I want to be able to thank you properly; Jackie too, of course. Really, what you’ve done goes a long way for us.” “There’s no need,” Michael smiled. “Any kind person would have done the same thing.” “DaaAAaaaddy!!” Jackie whined. “I wanna see them again!” Everyone except for Jackie laughed, and Michael was reaching into his pocket. “Email or phone, did you say?” They exchanged information, and everyone bid their goodbyes. “When can we see them again?” Hopping on her feet, she begged her dad for an answer. “I’m not sure, hon. We’ll probably need to wait until Mommy gets back from her business trip. Don’t you want her to meet Emily and Joyce, too?” “...Yeah...but that’s too--!” “Long? The times gonna fly by before you know it. Now, are we gonna see the monkeys before I change my mind?” “Monkeys!” “They were nice,” Joyce smiled as they continued to walk. Emily was quiet. Joyce turned her head. “What’s wrong?” “I just feel bad...” “About?” “About telling them. I told them we were fighting...” “Well,” Joyce pondered the words for a moment. “I don’t like to think that we were fighting, but maybe we were having a heated argument, at least. Don’t feel bad for confiding in someone, Emily. You needed someone, because I wasn’t there for you...” her words carried genuine guilt, as it was an attack on herself rather than Emily. Emily purposefully swung her hips into Joyce. “Alright, that’s it. No more feeling sorry for the rest of the day, got it?” “This feels oddly familiar...” Joyce said with a forming smirk. “It better...it worked for me, after all...” “Jackie, though, she was funny.” “Yeah, she seems to get herself into a bit of trouble though.” “Right?” Joyce laughed. “It reminds me of someone I know...” Emily laughed, and as she grew quieter while they walked, something started to bother her; an annoying suspicion creeping from the back of her mind. “Wait...are you talking about me?” She looked to her, seeming clueless. “What do you mean?” Emily looked cross as she stared daggers into her. “You were so talking about me.” Instead of giving her a direct answer, Joyce merely laughed and started speeding up. “Wait until I catch you!” Emily growled, racing after her. “Not gonna happen~!”

Sorry about that...I think I let it happen again... Thank you for such high praise, though! Hopefully it's going to get better? Hmmm...there might be a tiny parallel going on here. And sorry if the flashback wasn't clear; I'll try to do better with that. At the same time, I don't want to explicitly plaster at the top of a page break: FLASHBACK BEGINS HERE. I've been trying to drop some subtle hints throughout that make it a bit more clear. Sorry, and thanks for reading and liking! Heyo! Glad to here it wasn't a total upset. I definitely hear where everyone is coming from, though, so I'll try to do better with that. As for Joyce's rapid change, I wanted to set up the sort of idea that Joyce meets Emily at a time when she's reaching a bursting point. That idea of overload is what's transforming her so rapidly, because from the start she's been ready to become this kind of person that can love so much and be so affectionate. Her desires are very strong and very real, and while she's been trying to throttle herself, she still can't keep herself together fully at the seams. Thanks for reading! Always important to consume before commenting! Michael and Jackie are hopefully going to be a teaching point for Emily, and if nothing else, Michael can be someone to talk to. But who knows how it's going to turn out? Thank you for being such an invested reader, and I hope you continue to enjoy! Maybe in a way, I suppose. Yes, it's not going to dictate the course of the story, or pull the resolution here or there, but I consider it important for the sake of context. By giving an idea of who Joyce was before she met Emily, or what she was like right at the time the two met, it can help explain why something like this may have happened. Joyce's desire for something like this has reached a bursting point and somewhat explains her storm of affection for Emily, and how she can struggle to keep it under wraps. So to sum it up, I put it in for character building. Thanks for reading! Definitely a mix of things going on for her. Unfortunately she's caught in a pretty bad situation and doesn't know how to find recourse. Anything in her mind right now seems like a bad play and there is no real right answer. Hopefully that's going to change? Thanks so much for reading and commenting! Sorry, but there probably won't be any transforming in this story! (Physically, at least.) But maybe not this universe? Hmmm...... Sorry for the confusion about the flashback, and yes, hopefully these two do make up! I hope you continue to read and enjoy! Always appreciate reading everyone's comments!

22 - The Bench At first, it wasn’t so much Emily that disappeared on Joyce than she did on her. Instead, the ground seemed to have consumed her; a thick muck slowing down each and every weakening stride she attempted. A metal post anchored into the ground, she was trembling more than she would’ve liked, and could feel the unrelenting tide of shame, self-frustration, and sorrow crash against her, forcibly coerced her into diving back into the abyss, just to avoid the storm. The pit was bottomless, and thus had no true destination as it was a one-way trip to the void. She could only maintain a three foot radius, thanks to the many people and her blurry, wet vision. Taking straight, bending, curving and forking paths, a scrutinizing, sharp misery always seemed to find her. In fact, a terrible pain in her chest ached; begging her to stop. Yet she grit her teeth and kept moving, because deep down she knew she was a poison; one that needed to be cleansed from the one she loved the most. Even if she was offended and angry for all the right reasons, she may as well have been a king without her castle. Why would she want to be right if it came at such a staggering price? But that’s what ate away at her so terribly, knowing that this wasn’t a healthy solution, and the consequences far outweighed the benefits. It was the lesser of two evils, so she thought, trying to sever their ties, but it was a brutal and savage solution. Something felt torn, and the wound was gushing. Someone must have snapped the tiny lever inside her head, because the trauma played on repeat, allowing her to relive her mistakes millions of times over in the span of seconds. Each and every syllable to every word was vivid down to the very pitch; so memorable because it was saturated in such distinct despair, disappointment, and drear. She kept stealing worried glances at the watch strapped to her heart, but the hands wouldn’t move. They had stopped since Joyce gave her that look; a look of betrayal. She was either drowning in it, or at least all she knew how to feel by this point was it, which was pain. Even as she ran away, it didn’t change the regret sinking inside of her like a ball of lead, but that’s why she hated herself even more. The comfort she craved for was the very one she stabbed in the back, and yet she still longed for it? Such a precious and innocent trust had been taken to a bed of nails and grinded against sharp and jagged rocks; strangled by Emily’s very own two hands. With each step, the void inside herself grew just a little wider, her heart throbbed just a little more, and the remnants of warmth in her palm, the one that had held another, began to cool just a little more. She could implode at any moment; each step potentially her last, until she finally lose herself to pure ruin, which right now seemed like a fitting punishment for herself. And in her frantic state, catching blurs of smiles and laughs engaged in their own paradise, she thought of Mary and Frank. Joyce had her parents with her right now, right? She could take solace in that at least there was someone for her. So as Emily sat herself on a bench, realizing she couldn’t run from herself, finally unable to ignore her full-on sobs, she could at least remind herself that Joyce would be okay and was among familiar faces. Emily, buried in her hands which were flooding with tears, maybe hoping to raise a pool to drown herself in, continued to weep. She never really did deserve her; Joyce was probably just too polite to not point that out. Why did all her relationships seem to be such double-edged swords? There was a common similarity among this one and Jack, and had there been a mirror right this moment, it’d have been a joke to consider it a mystery. Maybe that’s why he had left her, and why Emily just left Joyce. She was the unstable one. She was the problem, and all she did was invite pure disaster. The world continued to spin on its axis, and Emily was a violent anomaly to the natural course, as her opposing sways twisted and turned her relationships and her stomach. Would it have been better if she were never found in the first place? As if a cruel reminder, the imaginary rain was already pouring like a waterfall over her head. Instead, left on the city streets, only to open to her eyes to a sky as bright as day, and to carry her swollen ankle to the nearest clinic. There would be no rescuer, angel, or goddess. Isolation would be her comfort; a friend that could not and would not be hurt. She was starting to heave a little, her cries were so draining, and she could feel the knife twist and turn about her; carving each and every mistake she had made these past months. And yet, despite all of this; all this damnation, self-hate, inflicted injury, punishment, beration, destruction of self-worth, even from the heap of misery she’d thrown herself into, there was still a faint light shining over her. No matter where she turned her head it seemed to be far away, yet nevertheless poised right at her. Her legs were pulled close as she clutched her arms together, wrapped around her knees as she shielded herself from the outside world. A sickening gray had begun to infect the canvas, and the atmospheric noises began to deafen into an unintelligible murmur, as Emily finally learned what it truly meant to be alone. A constant stream of individual drops kept launching themselves at the large, glass window, exploding into even tinier smithereens as they slowly rolled down the surface. The tiny vibrations they made were almost therapeutic, if you took to time to lose yourself to the noise. It was hard to do that, though, when instead the pressing of keys were much louder. She needed a moment to blink. The digital screen etched its digital LEDs into her eyes like they’d been engraved. Then of course came the tears from over-exercised eyes, long overdue for a break from an unrelenting hell of technological lights. Just as she stretched her arms, a knock came from the door. “Yes?” Just as the silence of the rain had a chance to introduce itself, it had been interrupted. “It’s Sheila, Ma’am.” She didn’t answer back, and the silence was telling enough. With the turn of the handle, the assistant entered the office. “I just got a call from security downstairs. I believe your chauffeur is waiting for you?” She adjusted the glasses poised on the rim of her nose. Instead of answering, Joyce’s eyes panned her desk, from one massive end to the other. Her coffee was half-filled, or rather, half-empty. When did she get it again? With the details of her office taking a higher priority, she pressed a few fingers to the mug. Cold. She exhaled through her nose, then made no rush in turning her head to the window. Apparently the sun had clocked in early, because the moon seemed to be taking up its unexpected shift. Well, that, or...for once in who knows how long, she looked at the clock. Oh. “Joyce?” The sound of her name finally beckoned her attention, but the lack of emotion seemed to have scared her assistant somewhat, as with a quick correction she said, “Ms.Summers, I meant to say. But, are you doing alright, ma’am?” “What did you come to say about my chauffeur?” “...He’s been waiting since a half-hour ago for you to come down.” Joyce gave the overturned phone set to silent a peek. There were a few missed calls on it. “Don’t you think it’s time you take the night off? You’ve already been here since-” “Could you please send him on his way?” She was already looking back at the computer. “I have some more work I want to finish up.” She gave the coffee a second glance, as if having second thoughts, but quickly gave up on it once more. “Work? But I thought you had finished everything for April last-” “I’m working on next month’s,” she said, plainly. A second went by and she still wasn’t gone yet. “Why haven’t you gone home yet?” There was no real curiosity, seeing as her eyes never left the screen. There was none of anything. Simply an observation that was one of many tiny, insignificant, miniscule bits and bobs that filled the cracks and crevices which would further prolong the inevitable; building a bridge that could keep her from falling into misery, a place that she couldn’t stand to be; home. “Because you haven’t. I’m concerned for your health, and with all due respect I don’t think you should be having late night after night in the office. Ms.Summers, when was the last Saturday you’ve taken for yourself?” “You’re my secretary, aren’t you?” It’d be pulling teeth to stir some kind of emotion in her tone. “Four weeks ago.” It was as if she were expecting to be challenged. “Is your car still here from this morning?” “Yes, it is.” The keys on the keyboard kept moving at a rapid pace, though Joyce kept finding herself needing to blink a bit more. As soon as something interrupted her flow, it was always so annoyingly difficult to find again... “I’ll send the chauffeur on his way, but only if you’re going to leave of your own accord right after.” It was obvious she was at a crossroads, trying to make decisions for the very woman that paid her. “Tell him I’ll be fine, please.” She almost sounded a little annoyed, and the “magic word” came a bit forced. Granted, that’s what hours on hours of work would do to you. She couldn’t remember the last time she got a full night’s sleep, and felt her need for pleasantries were running low. “And will you head home right after?” She just about pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sheila, please.” It was a tone that had its patience being tried; one intolerant of anything that didn’t bend to its exact whim. The fumes she tried to tell herself she wasn’t running on didn’t seem to appreciate anything less than perfect. Adaptation and compromise were currently unwelcome guests in the executive’s realm, and even her closest ally was starting to feel like a nuisance. The typing finally stopped, as the pianist ended their tune on a jarring, constrasing note, and invited a much more uncomfortable silence into the room. The swivel chair didn’t seem to turn, and the desk lamp shining on the right side of her face was finally beginning to bother her. The coffee was cold now, too. Hardly drinkable, and it’d be a waste of a mug to get another. Her rhythm and momentum had become stale, and she knew it’d all been ruined. “Fine.” Placing both hands on the desk, she used them as a foothold to push herself up, taking a moment to brush off the wrinkles in her blouse. The open binder, still-illuminated computer screen, lazily placed pen and documents all remained the same as she walked from it. She looked to Sheila with a grave seriousness. “Now do what I asked.” Sheila didn’t respond when she excused herself, and the shut of the translucent glass door returned Joyce to her one true friend, someone she had a strange chemistry with; isolation. Her jacket came off the hook and around her shoulders. She hardly cared enough to make the long, begrudging trip back to the other side of the room, looking at her messy station. Once she acknowledged her lack of energy, it was impossible to ignore now. Other than the few lights left, the rest of the room began to blend with the night sky as the main lights dimmed to darkness. She rubbed her eyes once more before stepping out of the office. “...yes, she’ll be driving herself home tonight. Yes, I’ll let her know. Thank you. Have a good night.” That was how Joyce found her secretary by the phone on her desk, already dressed in her own jacket. Seeing her all packed up, knowing that she herself was the cause of it, Joyce now being away from her work felt a tad bit remorseful for keeping her all night... A look around the corner gave way to the vastly empty floor, which despite being reserved for only a handful of people, truly felt empty in the company of darkness. Just a few moments ago it felt like the start of the day… She turned back to Sheila who was hanging up the phone. “I just spoke with security. They said he’ll be going on then to drop off the vehicle at your apartment’s garage. Is that alright?” “It’s fine.” It was hard to tell if it really was. “Can I leave now, or are you going to make sure I get through the front door to my apartment as well?” “What makes you think I don’t have a tracker on you?” She smiled, and eventually, so did Joyce, ever so faintly, looking somewhere else other than her assistant’s eyes. “Besides, this building tends to be a little creepy at night when it’s so empty.” Sheila, holding a bag with both hands looked to her boss expectantly. “Think you can escort me out?” Joyce’s inner brows tilted upwards somewhat as she smirked, admittedly feeling foolish for her attitude a few minutes ago. Thankfully Sheila could be so forgiving, or at least understanding. “Are you parked on the same floor as me?” “Did you forget I have a reserved spot, too?” In unison they walked down the dark hallway, to the opposite end, where an elevator door with a square light mounted above the doors stood. “How come you’ve been working so much, Ms.Summers?” “You’re off the clock, so stop calling me that,” again, with little expression to her voice. “Call me Joyce.” “Sorry Ma’am, but I can’t do that. With you, I’m always on the clock,” she chuckled, and Joyce feigned a smile. “Is there anyone you’re going to be late for at home? Because of me?” They waited for the elevator, while Joyce quietly observed a few potted plants. “No, It’s alright. Truthfully, I expected it might be another late night.” “...I see. Is there anyone you have at home?” “A boyfriend, and a dog.” Joyce gave her a somewhat invested look. “Since when have you been dating?” “About 6 months, now.” “And you never told me about it?” Sheila was silent for a few moments. “Or I forgot that you did?” Still silent, though it seemed to say much more. ... “Ma’am, is there anything you’d like to talk about?” “Aren’t we talking right now?” The elevator dinged, and they both stepped inside. “Well, yes, but I mean about you?” “I highly doubt there’s much there to talk about...” “Ma’am, I know that I’m your secretary, but that doesn’t mean I don’t mind talking about something that’s bothering you outside of work.” “I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine, really.” She had to look at the metallic doors for that one. Even she knew it was a lie. There wasn’t a single person in that tiny, metal box that believed a single bit of her words. It’d been a slow, gruelling decay that’d slowly consumed her before she’d even realized. Her work was her passion, but it had also become the catalyst for something much greater she had chosen to neglect for too long. Alongside it was Sheila’s care and concern that was like a low-hanging fruit; ripe for the taking, yet she didn’t feel the desire to reach for it. “Hey,” Joyce randomly spoke, “how about we go and get a drink?” It sounded reluctant, but Sheila went on to respectfully decline. “You need your sleep, Ms.Summers, just as much as I do. It’s nearly half-past ten, and we both need to be up for work in the morning. Still though, I never thought you’d invite me out for a drink? “What do you mean? I’ve offered you before.” It stung, not hearing her respond to that. Twice now, she’d shot herself in the foot. “Maybe Friday? Since then it’ll be the weekend.” “Maybe...” Sheila then looked at Joyce with a warning stare. “And don’t think about going to a bar tonight, or then I really will follow you home!” For once, Joyce finally laughed a little. “You’ve got a company to manage, and I can’t imagine how hectic it’d be without you...” Joyce went back to staring off into troubled nothingness, keeping once again her bottled-up issues to herself. They both stepped out and into the parking garage, their sets of heels clicking across the asphalt. “Gee, it’s raining quite a bit…” Sheila looked out the opening where the countless drops could be seen falling from above. “My space is the floor below this one,” She briefly spoke. “Promise me you’ll go straight home?” “I may be a lot of things,” Joyce paused to yawn. “But a liar isn’t one of them. You have a good night Sheila.” “See you in the morning, Ma’am. Did you bring your umbrella, by the way?” “Yes, I have it in my car. Don’t worry.” “...And you’re sure you don’t want to talk?” There was the faintest hint of unease in her voice; fear for overstepping her bounds. Joyce merely smiled. “I’m fine, but thanks.” They parted ways, one sticking by their car and the other moving to the stairwell. The crisp air wove throughout the cement structure, whistling its woeful tune as it kicked at the fringes of Joyce’s coat, mercilessly biting at her bare ankles. Being a reserved lot, hers was the only vehicle in attendance, or better explained as staying behind. The inside of her car didn’t feel much different, though that didn’t stop her from opting to turn on the heat. Backing out, the GPS console was already routing itself for home, and the calm, digital voice was already looking for confirmation. “Would you like me to set a route for home?” She took a moment to check her phone, looking for something; a distraction. An excuse that would keep the night fresh and young. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Would you let me to set a route for home?” “...No. Don’t.” Pulling out of the garage, instead of her typical left she started with a right. She relished in the moments she could find something even close to traffic, or catch each and every single red light. There was something beyond appealing to take the scenic route; someplace she’d never or scarcely been. If she was destined to be trapped in the company of herself, the least she could do was at least force a change of pace. She was a sorrowful soul, and she knew it too. She had forgotten the beginning, and cared little for the end. This limbo she was caught in, once only filled with pleasure, made her realize that life wasn’t so cheery if you couldn’t satisfy all aspects of it. Creatures of habit; social animals. She agreed with both of these philosophies, but that didn’t mean she followed them both. She was of habit, but it was her habit to live a lonely life. No one could be her perfect other, and trying to find someone like that who existed was an imaginary needle in a very real haystack. Something wet rolled down her cheeks, as the expression on her face remained static. What did it mean to be loved? To love someone else? Someone to get up for; to wake and see, look forward to spending time with and celebrate? A piece of porcelain chipped off her face, and the storm seemed to rain heavier. Tearily glancing to her side window, she watched the front-side windows on the street pan as she cruised forward, each and every display moving to the beat of their own drum. It was funny, in a way, watching the rain roll down the side of her car. Seeing her faint reflection in it, wet with her own tears, unable to distinguish them from the rain; it felt oddly poetic. Her sources of noise were the falling drops and swish-swash of her windshield wipers. Store after store, display after display, nothing seemed to be exciting other than the occasional alleyway that broke up the sameness of it all. Though, even then that became dull too once you realized it had just as much repetition as everything else in the grand scheme. Maybe it was time to go home, cut her losses, and work another late night tomorrow. She could try and send Sheila home early, then there wouldn’t be any obstacles… Maybe the one thing that did make her smile was remembering Ashes. Such a cute little ball of fur. She wanted to see Amy, too. And that was the problem. Why couldn’t she just be honest with herself? She started to look bitter. Maybe it was worth getting a cat… It wasn’t everything she wanted, but it was probably safe to say that for once in her life she’d just need to deal. She rounded the corner, rearing closer and closer to home, though this wasn’t one of her typical streets. The flickering lamp post was a good example of that. It was disappointing in a way to see that there wasn’t any traffic on this section. That just meant she was going to her husk of a home even sooner. Just a few more blocks and the building would be on her left. What a shame… There weren’t even people on the sidewalks to people-watch. Just as she looked back to the road, something curious caught her glance, though it only amounted to a shadowy blur as she barely focused on it when passing by. What did she just see? The car kept moving forward, but her mind stayed stuck. By this point though, she was ready to vent her inner monologue. “How pathetic...” She was willing to take an interest in anything at this point. Nothing really captivated her. It was all boring, and she knew it. They were all in the same; excuses. It really was time for her to go home… Trying to forget, she went forward another block, and there wasn’t anything exciting there. The same for the next. And the next. And the next. She took a left and pulled onto her street. She could already see the garage entrance in the distance. She pulled closer and closer, dreading every moment. But for once, she didn’t feel as repelled by the home as much as she was being tugged elsewhere by something. What did she see? What did I see? Right before the entrance, she made another left. She drove a fair distance, then took another one. Another few hundred feet, and this time, a right. She didn’t know whether this were more of her delusions or a genuine interest. Was there a difference anymore? She certainly had better things to be doing than looking for a shiny nickel on the street, yet here she was... It was gone, whatever she was looking for. Or at least, never there to begin with. Her hope had finally been snuffed out, and she was already getting ready to go home. Her car nearly jerked forward when she hit the brakes. There it was again, only this time she could see it with a much clearer view. A lump of something? No, a lump of someone; slouched over on the steps of a building, shone down upon by one of the few functioning lights on the sidewalk, gracefully protected from most of the rain by a small overhead. It would’ve been instinct to think they were homeless, but they didn’t seem that way… No. Someone homeless doesn’t wear flats, dress pants, and a blouse. Then why were they outside so late in the pouring rain? And why did Joyce even care? It wasn’t her problem. She needed to go home and get ready for tomorrow. There were likely thousands of people sleeping on the streets tonight, and this person wasn’t any different from them, so why was she stopping for this one? Yet as she thought that, she didn’t press forward on the gas. Well, not until someone behind her laid on their horn, at least. Caught off guard, she did move forward, but pulled right around the corner. She didn’t keep going though. She pulled to the side. Turning in her seat to look through the back-rear window, there wasn’t anything but the glow of light around the corner, just managing to shine through the dense downpour. Her curiosity was insatiable. She needed to know. She needed to see. It was either the brink of complete and total procrastination that had her so fixated, or something much more cryptic and mysterious aroused her curiosity. The umbrella was the first thing to exit the car, unfolding and expanding into quite the generous roof above Joyce’s head. With it’s elegant, upturned wooden handle she was quick to pace around the puddles and onto the sidewalk, heading back around. Funnily enough, she thought how Sheila might kill her for trying to check up on strangers instead of heading home. I’m not at a bar, at least… This was the third time they’d been exposed to one another, or more so Joyce exposed to them. She didn’t even know why she was here, or what she was going to do. There didn’t even seem to be anything distinct about them, yet the more she looked, the more intrigued she became. They looked like someone fresh out of a 9 to 5 job on their way back home. The way some of her clothes stuck to her skin though...parts of her blouse looked chillingly transparent. Again, Joyce simply felt compelled to reach out her hand, resting just a few fingers on one of the many cold, wet spots she was covered in. She must’ve been freezing… She is freezing. Her hair looked as if it’d taken a tumble, along with the rest of herself. It wasn’t repulsive. Far from it. If anything, it was oddly endearing... Crouching on her feet she stroked the stranger’s hair she softly murmured. “How did you get like this...?” Then she noticed the streaks of bare skin coming from her eyes, almost like rivers. Tears never really did work well with makeup… Water in general. “Down on your luck, too?” She didn’t expect an answer, but the silent company in itself was something to appreciate. It was enough to make her forget what had her so troubled in the first place. She seemed so tiny… She wasn’t. Not totally, but not exactly Joyce’s size either. Frail all over, shivering in the cold rain; defenseless and alone. The more she sympathized with the stranger, the less and less she wanted to leave things so simply… “E…” She went to touch her shoulder, then hesitated. “Excuse me?... Hello?” She wasn’t expecting to feel so relieved when she saw her stir, and lazily look back to her. Then she realized just how abnormal this girl was… How do you manage to fall asleep on a set of concrete stairs in the rain? Regardless, “You’re awake, thank goodness...” She held herself close; clearly shaken from the rain. The way she trembled… Is it okay to hug a stranger if they’re cold? Wait, why would she think of that? “Wh-who are you?” Her voice was fatigued and strained. “Come on now, can you stand?” She needed warmth, and Joyce felt a need to please. Carefully, she supported her by the shoulder, though needing to slouch just a bit to match the girl’s height. The first step they took and the girl was already yelping in pain. What? What did she do wrong? The first thing that came to mind was to look at her feet, and just under the light she could see it didn’t look normal. Swollen and discolored. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” She’d never used so much emotion in a single day. Care and compassion were things she held in frugal and conserved amounts, yet here she was, blowing away all her reserves/ The girl didn’t respond, but it didn’t stop Joyce from readjusting. “Come on, I know it hurts,” she continued to coax as they slowly moved back to the car. “Just a little further...” It clearly paid to have a towel on hand, which she laid across the seats, and then her on top. “Down we go...” An onlooker would probably think she was abducting them right now, and maybe she was… But how could she just leave her like that? Too much had happened for her to ignore this girl. Dare she say it was fate itself. All of this was so unusual, and that was exactly part of the intrigue. Back in the front seat, behind the wheel, she could still hear the girl murmuring behind her. The police? Is that where she should take her? She spun her head around to give her another once-over. Sopping wet, freezing, injured, and tired. How was a station going to solve any of that as well as Joyce could? No, she knew exactly where to take her. “I know you’re a bit out of it right now hon, but if you can hear me, I’m going to take you back to my house, okay? It’s just up the street.” She then realized she was speaking to a brick wall. It was her fault, honestly, considering she was dealing with a person who managed to sleep on the streets...poor thing. They had no connection, and yet Joyce felt obligated. She wanted to feel obligated. The drive home was short, and for once Joyce didn’t take the scenic route. She parked alongside the vehicle her chauffeur had dropped off, then was thankful she and this stranger were the only ones in the garage. While appearances were the last thing on her mind, she’d prefer there not be any misunderstandings… “Hon? Are you awake?” She still didn’t even know her name yet. The lack of familiarity should have made it weirder, but it didn’t. She gave her shoulder a slight jostle, but nothing stirred back. This was a slight issue. She needed to get this person up to her apartment, but first they needed to move to the elevator. It’s not like she could carry her. . . . . . . It was amazing how effective a princess carry could be. As her wet blouse and pants soaked into the arms of Joyce’s jacket, she minded less than she would have expected. If she was prepared to lose it to the rain, surely she would be if it meant doing a good deed. After an awkward turn into the elevator, without hitting her “princess’” head against the panel, she pressed the correct floor. Her hair could use some tidying...she was going to need new clothes as well. Despite looking so weathered, it didn’t change how soft and delicate her face seemed… It wasn’t the time or place, but Joyce couldn’t help herself as she marveled over the stranger’s...well, beauty. “Thankfully you’re so light,” she hoisted her up once more, solidifying her grip, then walked down the hall, undisturbed, reaching the front door. It was always soul-crushing to come home and embrace her bountiful loneliness in the company of just herself. She had all this square footage, and yet the reminder of such spaciousness was suffocating. It didn’t seem that way tonight. Nothing was straining to get through the door; to get through to Joyce. Standing there, holding her princess, the inside of her home seemed oddly tame.. Was it a trick? Had it gotten so bad her emotional struggles had become sentient? Creaking open the door, she stepped inside, her charge in tow. A chill nearly ran up her spine, the setting was so unusual. This wasn’t her home. It couldn’t be. The eerie silence that hung throughout the spacious home...it didn’t seem so eerie anymore. For once she could hear the silence, the normal silence, and it was euphoric. The heating system seemed to be working this time too, because now Joyce wasn’t thickly wrapped in layers of contempt and sorrow and was raw enough for the temperatures to reach her. It was the first time she used the guest room, and also the bed. “Don’t hate me, but I need to warm you up, okay?” She wasn’t expecting a response, but felt herself becoming a bit flustered as she carried out her intent. One after the other, each button in an orderly fashion fell out of place, and so did her blouse. She tugged at the ends of the shirt which were still tucked into her pants, and out they came. She stared at the small woman, tracing her from head to stomach. So out of it, unable to realize her savior had a complete view of her chest. Joyce looked away, feeling her cheeks getting a little too warm. Maybe the heat was working too well… Setting the blouse aside, she sat the girl up, pulling her close so she could reach behind her bra. “I’m sorry, but this is too wet to keep on...” Already experienced with her own, a simple flick had the clasp undone and the fabric fell limp. A brief second went by, and she could feel the soft breaths, coming in constant intervals, kiss the crook between Joyce’s shoulder and neck. Was she getting excited? Taking her by the bare shoulders, she gently spaced the two apart, relieved with some distance. Maybe it wasn’t so great, now seeing her bare breasts, so in a panic to protect the sleeping girl’s modesty, she pulled her back close again. What was she doing?! This was no time for games! She felt truly invasive once she undid the zipper to her pants, and soon the button. You’d think she was making it into a sexual thing, she was so slow about it. It wasn’t...but her heart was beating quite a bit. Already with the first tug, she could see the fabric to her underwear, now well aware of how they matched her bra… Why was she even noticing that? The pants then totally came off, and all that remained were her panties. “Why are you still asleep?” Despite stripping her, she couldn’t help but find herself giggling over her undisturbed process. She grew a bit more worried though as she looked at the final piece. It seemed wet too, and she knew it wouldn’t be right to leave the job half-done. “I promise I’ll get you something to wear, so please just bear with it for a little bit...” There was a pause before she slipped her fingers into the waistband, having the backs of her fingers pressed against an incredibly sensitive area of skin. She nearly jumped when the girl slightly shifted. Looking on for a moment too long, she nearly slapped herself for taking a moment to admire the feel, but then worked them off and over her curving thighs and calves. Joyce did her best not to look while she collected everything, but the girl was completely naked now, still sound asleep. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be shivering so much anymore, but Joyce made up the difference in clothes by slipping her under the covers. Still talking to her as if she were conscious, Joyce went on to explain. “I’ll go see what I can do about something to wear. You aren’t exactly my size…” she gave her another once-over from head to blanket-covered toe, “but in the meantime, don’t go anywhere.” She was going to need underwear, and Joyce knew that was going to be an issue. She didn’t exactly keep panties for girls with smaller waists on hand, nor bras for tinier breasts either. She wasn’t prepared to let her go unprotected either. It scared her to imagine what she might think when she wakes up; what might’ve been done to her. Looking around the room, as if an idea lay somewhere between the cushions or floorboards, her eyes fell on her keys. She could find a place that was still open, right? Another quick glance to the clock, which was past eleven now. It really was getting late… Please just wait a little longer… She grabbed the keychain and was out the door. There was its own special kind of intimacy when Joyce slipped a new pair of panties onto her sleeping subject. She couldn’t describe the relief she felt though once it was clear that they fit. Unfortunately though her breasts wouldn’t be getting as much special treatment… “I hope you don’t mind nightgowns...” Picked from her personal collection, she slipped it over her head, and it certainly did look big on her, yet, charming in its own way? The covers came back over her, and Joyce took a seat on the bedside, watching for a little longer. Her fingers drew circles into the fabric, until by the twentieth she finally felt herself yawn. Maybe she wasn’t as indestructible as she thought… Sheila would probably be giving her a mouthful by now. “Still, I never thought it’d be a complete stranger that would use this room first.” She looked to the slumbering culprit with a smirk, trying not to mind the irony in how she was the very reason of it. Never did she expect to spend the late, close to early hours of her next morning like this. Despite how heavy her eyelids felt, a part of herself felt tickled. No, it’s not like that… Almost painfully, she kept on looking at innocence personified. The pleasure she felt from this, she knew exactly what soft spot it came from, but how disgusting could she be to project that onto a stranger? Was it right bringing her into Joyce’s home? Maybe that’s what it was; a selfish ploy just to please her own fantasies. It was never about helping this person, it was about what Joyce wanted, and what she couldn’t have. Of course, what better way could she force someone into the mold of what she wanted the most than by plucking them off the street? They’d be in-debted to her, and of course she’d be sure to collect by- A muffled buzz came from her phone sitting on the bed Nothing. Just useless spam. She needed some sleep, and to calm herself. If she was going to blow up like this, it’d be better to do it in another room. Tomorrow would be a new day, and like that time would start moving again. Company couldn’t last forever, and the next night this room would be empty again. Selfish as it was, this time she so unashamedly wanted to be. Just when she’d discovered a new, refreshing outlet in life, she was already going to lose it. Why did life have to be so cruel? She could observe every physical feature and trait to this person, but other than that she was nothing more than a face, and that was what cut the deepest. While Joyce gravitated so closely, this person would sleep through all of it, much less feel an inkling of emotion back. If anything, it made Joyce hate herself even more. All she could ever do was get her hopes worked up for another grand flop. If it hurts this much just to put herself out there, why did she even try? As soon as she left this room and went to bed, that would be it. Her one-night stand would be finished by sunrise, and she’d long forget that this had ever happened. So if no one was going to remember tonight, maybe she could at least indulge herself once. She leaned in close, right beside the stranger’s ear, speaking in a low whisper. “Have a good night, sweetheart...” It was too faint to feel, but something lightly touched the top of the girl’s forehead. Gone. With each vibration from her phone, nestled away in the pockets of her shorts, underneath her dress, it made Emily shake and tremble with an inconsolable grief that felt like tearing flesh. She knew who it was that kept trying to reach her every waking minute, and to let each ring fall silent and unanswered only dogpiled every negative emotion she could convince herself to invest in. After the phone stopped ringing, the same whimpers would ensue each time. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry…!” She must have been worried sick, and Emily was the one putting her through all of this. She was the root of this raging storm. But it was for the best, right? No matter what, it was going to be painful, but at least this way there’d only be one, big, giant, humongous hurdle to overcome… She wanted to say that, but as more and more time went on, it was her own lack of courage that seemed to be the second contender. The perception of time seemed to have taken a backseat in the presence of grieving, as Emily was at a total loss for how much time had passed on that bench. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her phone though, because that’d bring her even closer to her sins. Minutes? Hours? Days? It could be any of the three, but who knows, being the screw-up that Emily is, it’s not like she couldn’t mess that up too. Bubbles. That’s all she ever seemed to be trapped inside. Her own little world that enabled her to be so carefree, happy, and relaxed. But because she lived in these spheres, that’s all she knew of. While she drifted in the outside world, hardly a shine or sparkle outside her dome would catch her interest. She was naive of it. Ignorant to it. So many times in this fashion she’d set herself up for failure, and just when she’d realize that everything wasn’t fine, and the world actually mattered outside her small oasis, the bubble would pop, and she would fall. Something wet lightly splashed against her forehead. Ignore it. It worked, because it didn’t happen again. This whole time she’d been staring down into the crook between her chest and bundled legs, sitting in a fetal position. She and the rest of the world didn’t seem to work so well together, so maybe it was about time they start seeing other people… Again, another wet pop. It didn’t aggravate her. It scared her. Not because of what it was, but because of what it could be. She wasn’t prepared to face anyone or anything. Nothing was right and everything was in shambles and ashes. She turned her head just the slightest upwards to peek her eyes past her knees. She needed to blink for a moment just to readjust to the light. “Hey, why’re you like that?” An innocent and high-pitched voice rung. Innocently curious, and in their hands was a plastic stick with a hoop on it, and the other a bottle of soap. Emily briefly tried looking to her forehead, finally doing something right for once by connecting the dots. “Are you okay?” “...No, I’m not.” She was a tiny, blonde-haired girl, dressed in sandals, shorts, and a top decorated in frills. She looked on with as much obscurity as there was in Emily’s heart. “I’m sorry,” she seemed to have interpreted it as an invitation to come closer, because Emily now had company on the bench. “Is that why your eyes are so red? Were you crying?” Sullenly, Emily nodded her head. Who even was this little girl? “My daddy says I get sad a lot. But that’s because someone is being mean to me...” she seemed to passively grumble. Though, much more upbeat, she went on to ask, “Why are you sad?” Emily stayed silent for a bit, staring off into space. That was the magic of being a kid though, because if Emily were trying to signal her unwillingness to talk, a social cue as advanced as that went well-above the tiny girl’s head. “Excuse me?” Again, a voice oblivious to their own wrongdoing. Emily felt a small tug on her own dress. “Did you hear me? Why are you sad?” Just when she’d learned to live with herself, already was she feeling ready to tear up again. By no means was she enthusiastic over digging out very recent trauma. At the same time, she couldn’t stand the thought of making another person sad today. “My, uhm...” she rubbed her eyes for a moment. “My...my girlfriend, I made her disappointed in me… We got into a fight.” It was like pulling a cord covered in spikes outside her own throat, the verbalization hit her so heavily. It was taking everything she had to keep stable. “Fights are no good,” the kid said in an imitating, pretending voice. You’d think she was repeating someone’s mantra verbatim. “My daddy always says that,” she cheekily smiled. “Hey, what does ‘disappointed’ mean?” “It’s when someone is sad because of something you did...” Explaining it didn’t make it any less true; solidifying the gravity of her actions. “What did you do?” She exhaled through her nose. “Something mean.” “Are you gonna say sorry?” She narrowed her brows. “It’s...it’s not that simple.” “Why not? When you say sorry everyone is happy again, right?” She kept looking up to Emily, and it added a tinge of self-consciousness to her simmering worries. Then in the middle of her therapy session, Emily realized something objectively important. “Wait, why are you here?” Now it was the girl’s turn to be stared at. “Are you lost?” She stared back clueless for a moment, then nodded her head with a giggle. “Daddy says I’m an explorer!” Emily blinked, feeling the spotlight shine its light on a whole new conflict. Not only was she stuck with her growing depression, but a lost child now, too? “Is...is your dad looking for you?” If she herself weren’t so sad, the small girl’s casualness to her own predicament may have been laugh-worthy. “I think so,” she still kept smiling. “Are you lost?” “In a few ways, yeah.” There probably wasn’t as much depth to her words as she intended, but Emily was feeling just as clueless on both the physical and emotional front. Everything was in shambles, and she had no idea how to pick up the pieces. She wasn’t good at that. But she knew who was… No! She couldn’t afford to hinge like this anymore. She didn’t deserve to… “Do you wanna blow some bubbles?” She was already holding the container out to her. “Shouldn’t we go find your dad?” She didn’t want to move, but she couldn’t leave a much more troubled soul hanging. “Uhm, I guess.” She shrugged. “He always finds me.” A memory exclusive to herself had her giggling. “He wins a lot at hide and seek!” “How long has he been gone?” “Uhm...” she glanced to her fingers, as if they’d tell the time. “Two hours? Three?” “Wh-what? Three hours?” Bewildered and shocked, Emily’s feet lost their footing on the bench, planting themselves on the ground. “He must be worrying about you!” The outburst seemed to startle her though, because she was quickly transitioning into a hiccup. Apparently only now it seemed to click for her. “Is-is he gonna be mad at me?” Wasn’t she the one with the carefree attitude to this? How quickly the tables had been turned, much less the massive irony in it all. She seemed to suck away all the worries though, because now a crying, lost girl had been deposited into Emily’s lap. “Hey, hey, relax, it’s okay, see?” Almost awkwardly, Emily rubbed her shoulder, not so used to the whole ‘interacting with kids’ thing. What was she even supposed to see? This was how Joyce did it, right? She didn’t seem to be itching for conversation, now that she was too busy crying her own river. Her storm of emotions was too distracting for Emily to prioritize her own. “Do you know your dad’s number? His cellphone?” She made sure the tiny bottle of soap didn’t fall off the bench. That seemed to have struck an even worse chord, as she sobbed harder. It was hard not to roll her eyes. How quickly could things have turned on its head? Regardless, she couldn’t help but feel some responsibility for bringing this whole issue up in the first place. “Hey, uh...” What was her name again? Come to think of it, neither one had introduced themselves! Why do kids have to be so complicated? “Hon, can you tell me your name?” Thankfully, between her breaths there was enough time to speak. “J-Jackie.” “Jackie, huh? That’s a nice name. Mine is Emily. Uh, nice to meet you.” She did her best to smile with an outstretched hand, and Jackie’s much tinier one shook it back. “So how old are you, Jackie?” “Six...” “Six? Really...” Think! What else could she say to keep her distracted? “Well, I used to be twenty-six, but just yesterday I turned twenty-seven.” Between her dimming sobs and whimpers, Jackie kept the ball rolling. “It was your birthday?” “Uh-huh, it was. I had lots of fun too.” Now it just felt like she was bragging. “Did you have it with your girlfriend?” That part stung, unknowingly bringing back such heartfelt memories… “...Yeah, I did. More importantly, are you feeling a bit better now?” “Mhm...” Emily almost thought it would be stupid to ask. She’d barely done anything, and yet she was suddenly a kid guru. “I’m sure your dad’s looking for you right now,” with a reassuring pat, the girl thankfully seemed to chin up a little. “He’s probably worried sick, but more than anything else he’ll be happy once he finds you safe and sound.” She sniffled. “Really?” “Positive. So no more crying, got it?” “Got it!” she parrotted, and Emily finally chuckled. “You laughed!” Jackie exclaimed, laying eyes on a rare treasure. Emily stuttered a bit at that, unconsciously trying to reel herself back in. “Yeah, I guess I did. But why is that so important?” “Because you were sad, right? Laughing means your happy again?” She slightly tilted her head, ignorant to the complexity of human emotions; far beyond realizing the depth of them, let alone processing the layers. If it kept her in good spirits though, Emily was willing to be that 1-dimensional being. Hell, it even helped her forget some of the struggles. “No, you’re right. I think I do feel a bit better.” She smiled, even if it meant portraying a facade. “You’re pretty when you smile,” Jackie unashamedly smirked. Emily laughed again. “What, are you flirting with me?” She kept laughing. “Hey Emily, what’s ‘flirting’?” “Uh…?” Maybe she was relaxing too much. “It might be better to ask your dad… What does he look like, by the way? So we know when we see him?” “He’s gotta scratchy beard!” Almost immediately, she exclaimed, though quickly started to laugh over her own silliness. “Scratchy beard? Hmm...we better keep our eyes peeled, then.” Apparently she said something funny, because she was giggling again. “Now what?” “You can’t peel eyes!” “Good point.” “Jackie!” A stern, loud voice called. It was a man’s. Almost immediately Jackie both simultaneously froze, yet spun her head before the total freeze-over. “Daddy!” He approached with a tired sigh. “What did I tell you about wandering off on your own?” The man seemed obviously stressed, taking a moment to run his hand through his blonde hair. “That I’mma explorer?” She quickly hopped off the bench and made a beeline for his legs, giving them a tight squeeze. As tightly as you could squish iron poles. “Wrong,” he sharply corrected. “I said that it’s a timeout in the corner if you did it again. And you did.” He scratched his chin for a moment. Emily silently watched. It is scratchy… This clearly wasn’t part of Jackie’s calculations, because she almost immediately started to whine. It was at least the good kind of whining, not the same as from the bench. “But I wanted to go and see the snakes!” “Then you wait until we go together. You don’t get to call the shots on your own, missy.” “Yes I do!” “Oh?” He looked to her left, then her right, trying not to smile. “Really? Because I don’t see anyone backing that up?” “Uhmm...” She imitated his glances, then to everyone’s surprise she spun back to Emily. “She did!” “Wai...what?” Stupefied, Emily could only blink. The man gave a look to Emily, seeming apologetic. “Sorry for bothering you, she just gets a little hyperactive...” Looking stern to Jackie again he went on. “Didn’t I also say to stop calling strangers out? What am I going to do with you...” “She’s not a stranger though! She’s Emily!” Speaking of who, she happened to look to her side, seeing the bottle of soap and its accompanying tool. Before they could wander off, Emily grabbed them and hurried over. “Wait! Jackie, you almost forgot these.” “My bubbles! I forgot!” Happily, she accepted them. She looked complacent for the moment, then another look from her dad clearly urged her to return the gratitude. “Thank you for giving them, Emily.” “Any time. Just don’t go disappearing on your dad again, okay?” Both adults seemed pleased to see her accept the terms. “Emily, was it?” Standing back on her feet, she could see he was around Joyce’s height, though maybe an inch taller. “Thank you for finding her. The second I look away from this trickster she’s off getting herself into more trouble...” Apologetically, he explained. “Don’t worry about it, really. If anything, she’s the one who found me. Still, being gone for two hours...wow. I can’t believe you could keep yourself together like that.” “Two…?” He seemed not to understand, then looked down on the supposedly innocent daughter of his. “How long did you tell her you were missing for?” “A few hours?” She smiled. “This little fibber meant to say about 10 minutes.” Emily almost wanted to roll her eyes over her own stupidity. Was it really accurate to trust a six-year old for the time? “I’m Michael, by the way. Dad of my mischievous daughter, Jackie.” The shook, having a much more adult shake than Emily’s from moments earlier. “Could I thank you somehow for watching her? A coffee, or something?” “Uh...well...” she almost looked back to the bench, as if a friend were waiting on her. She knew she’d be moments from a relapse if left to her own devices again, and truthfully, it scared her. What shook her heart even more was her phone stopped vibrating. She didn’t know what to do. Even though it was like pulling teeth, running away seemed to have a motive; a goal to it. But now? No matter what she thought, nothing seemed to be clear or distinct, other than her fear of facing Joyce. Time only accumulated the shame and worry she was feeling… “And you,” he looked to his daughter. “You’re on a tight leash for the rest of the day. Come on, you know the rules.” An open hand waited for her, and she grumpily took it, as her tiny limb was absorbed by his much larger one. Emily merely watched, silent. Observant. “Hey, Emily? Are you okay?” “Huh?” “You...you’re crying?” She wiped her cheek, and sure enough, she was. “Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?” “Can um,” a quick wipe had them mostly gone. “Can we get that drink?” It was obvious she was dodging his concerns, but the middle-aged man tried to play it off, nodding his head. “Daddy! I don’t wanna leave the zoo!” Jackie continued to whine, tugging back on his arm. “Don’t worry, honey, we’re not leaving. We can get drinks inside the zoo.” He looked to Emily as they walked, mouthing a ‘sorry.’ She paused, but then weakly smiled too. Was this okay?

Hmm...sorry about that! Thanks for being so invested though! (Don't hate me too much!) No relationship is ever easy. The stronger ones know how to flex, though, or at least when they break, they can be reformed. They definitely have some work to do though. It's clear they each care for each other, but that can at the same time be what hurts them. Where will it go? Hmmm.... Close? Or not? Either way, a fun outcome to imagine! Lol, thanks for commenting! Unexpected stuff can sneak up on them like that. Something they never considered has finally become an issue before they even realized it. Both are passionate in their own ways, and that shows in both the best and worst of times. Thanks for commenting, and hopefully I continue to make it an interesting read! Who knows? Elders tend to have some wisdom, though! Thanks for commenting! Haha, sorry for the cliff! I've kinda been doing that lately, I guess. If it isn't clear by the next chapter, I'd suggest considering Emily's mindset beforehand, and attribute that to now. If not, it'll be made explicit by the next next chapter. Try not to fret too much! Sorry to keep you waiting! Hmm, not sure what you mean? (It's probably obvious, but my lack of sleep is getting to me...) Please explain to my tired brain! Thanks for commenting! Thanks! Hope you continue to be interested!

Heyo! Yeah, it seems they've finally hit a snag... Only time will tell! Thanks for reading and commenting! Lol, that's a fun way to put it. Glad I made a real page-scroller ? And hmm, I can't say for certain when things'll get better? Who knows? Thank you for reading and being so invested! Please stay tuned! Definitely. What we've seen thus far is how Emily right now can relate her feelings and moods to being a lot like a switch. She can be an adult when she wants and is also slowly learning how to switch to a different mindset altogether. Joyce, however, has slowly been alluded to as someone who doesn't have as strict of a balance. There have been a few points in the story where we find Joyce craves for multiple different things in a relationship; things that don't go so well together in what can be considered a "typical" or "vanilla" one. It'll be interesting to see how that is developed and if it's resolved down the line. And as for the spanking, well, who knows. I can't imagine the mommy in her would be too pleased, though. This might be a bit too real however for Joyce to not take the reigns. Thanks for reading and commenting! Thanks! I wouldn't consider Emily abnormally small, nor the average height either. It might be a stretch, but how Emily is being perceived by others right now comes from the people surrounding her. Although she's an adult, having older and bigger people around her coupled with the way she's dressed forces a certain perspective that might not match the truth. When they first went out to eat together is an example of how Emily wasn't seen as a kid, namely because of her appearance and how she carried herself. As for why Emily distanced herself again, it has been a constant struggle of learning to accept that she does have a place by Joyce's side. We already know Emily to be extremely critical of herself, which is why it hits her so heavily when it's clear that she's hurt Joyce in some way for the first time, immediately jumping to the conclusion that she shouldn't be with her. She considers her reaction a punishment to herself rather than being any means of hatred towards Joyce. But of course, she's going to realize that she's done more harm than good. Thanks a ton for asking about that, and I hope I was able to give a thoughtful response. I hope you continue to enjoy reading, and please continue to comment in the future! A little conflict every now and then is good for the emotional bones, I guess. I think having both the ups and downs are both equally important elements. In fact, I did have part of an earlier chapter planned to take a slightly different route, or at least include a parallel element, but I decided to scrap it. I'm not sure if It'll be coming back in the future, so, for now, I guess it's a secret! Cliff hangers are always fun to see the reactions to. Sorry about that! I've been experimenting with new stories, but Sheltered is still at the forefront. Thank you for your investment in this story, and I hope you continue to comment and enjoy!

Hey everyone, I know it has been a bit. Sorry things slowed down a bit. Nevertheless, here it is. I just want to make it clear that the story is NOT discontinued. Even if I go quiet for a bit, it's NOT canceled or over. You will know if it has been because I will have made an official statement. Thank you for your concern, comments and kind words. The story is still going strong and I have no intentions to cut it short. Please enjoy! Chapter 21 - The Zoo One by one the plates made touchdown on the table as their heavenly aromas followed. Like in every scenario, Emily was the last in the rotation, but it was wonderful to finally have something to eat! Though, if she forgot, the smiley face illustrated with strawberries, bananas and blueberries topped with a whipped cream smile was more than enough as a reminder for which menu her meal came from. “Kids menu or not, I still think you made out like a bandit, Emily,” Mary commented, and Emily who was briefly caught in a fluffy, syrupy trance, reluctantly agreed. Maybe the belittlement was almost worth it, considering the tradeoff… Frank, Mary, and Joyce’s meals all looked equally as delicious in their own right. Frank tried to look away when his wife put ketchup on her sandwich though… You’d think he was watching her kick a puppy. “Oh will you stop?” She gave him a playful hit on the shoulder. “Ow! Ow!” feigning his injury, he pleaded with his eyes. “Don’t you see what she does to me?” Even Mary found his reaction funny, and everyone seemed to be enjoying Emily’s laugh. Emily was almost ready to ask for a real knife, rather than a butter one, but it was a pleasant surprise to see that it sliced through the fluffy cakes like a machete. She nearly squealed as soon as she lifted her knife out of the stack, seeing it’d struck oil, as the blade was covered in melted chocolate. “Hey,” Joyce warned. “Don’t forget to leave me a bite.” Emily simply nodded her head as she sectioned off her first bite. Everyone was equally as content with their own meal. “How is it, hon?” Frank asked in between bites. “Fine, thank you very much!” Acting all prim and proper, it was obvious Mary had a sneaking suspicion of what was to come. “That’s good. But you know, it’d be even better if you’d-” He paused as with his hands occupied with his burger, he was helpless to watch as one of his fries was stolen by his wife. “I’m married to a monster...” Both Joyce and Emily struggled not to choke on their food as they laughed, pleased to be treated both to a dinner and a show. And as much as Emily resented the food illustration, she still swabbed some of the fruit and whipped cream with a finger… “Are your mom and dad always like this?” She kept sneaking glances back to them, hoping not to miss the next humorous event. “On some level, yeah, but I think ever since my brother and I left the house, they’ve only had more time to drive each other insane.” *Ahem* In an obvious noise, Mary cleared her throat as she stared at Joyce with a strange sense of graveness. “What were you telling her about us?” “...How you two are wonderful parents?” “You may be an entrepreneur, but you’re not a liar, missy.” Maybe to her own mom, she wasn’t. It wasn’t exactly a skill Joyce took pride in, but she knew how to pull the wool over someone’s eyes. She looked at the glowing girl beside her, reasoning it as a necessary evil. “So I have a question: what does an ordinary night look like for you two?” It was Joyce and Emily’s turn to look at each other. “Umm...” Emily started first. “By the time I finish up work and get back, Joyce is usually up to something.” She paused to think of the next part. Instead Joyce picked right up after her though. “And then she strolls into my office and practically pushes everything off my desk!” “That is not true!” Emily spat to her. “She’s the one who drops everything to spend the rest of the night together.” “Fine, fine, maybe I embellished it a little...” Joyce smirked right before taking a bite of her toast. “I think Emily’s the better storyteller,” Frank admitted it like a tough, yet factual truth. “I think so, too,” Mary solemnly agreed. “Me three,” Emily contently spoke, giving herself a pat on the back. Then with a Cheshire grin she snickered. “Will you three quit bullying me?” Joyce pretended to be offended, but really nothing made her happier than something like this. If it was at the expense of her imaginary reputation, then she’d give it all away tenfold if that meant Emily could finally feel comfortable. Joyce couldn’t feel the same reluctance Emily had from this morning, and she was starting to let go of her imaginary pressures. Emily looked at her expectantly, but Joyce fired back. “Well, go on! Finish the story! Apparently I’m not so good at it...” Funnily enough, she thought of last night when Emmy was asking for her to do ‘the voices.’ “Joyce usually starts cooking something when I get back. I try to help here and there,” she put a lot of emphasis on the ‘try’ bit, because even then she was stretching it. “Then we probably relax on the couch?” She looked to the pouting Joyce for confirmation. “Now you want my input?” Disregarding her feigned annoyance, Emily simply nodded her head. Frank and Mary meanwhile gave a few chuckles as the scene unfolded. Joyce dropped the act as she picked up where her partner left off. “That’s pretty much it, really. I mean, we’ve had plenty of nights where we go out and do something; milkshakes, a movie, a restaurant, stuff like that. We’ll have to do some more stuff down the line, though!” “That’s good to hear,” Marry nodded her head. “But I don’t think you ever told me, has business ever kept you away for a whole night? I know you used to have a dinner every now and then. Maybe a party or social thing?” Much more plainly, Joyce nodded her head. “Thankfully nothing’s come up lately, but I can’t imagine that’s going to last forever. I’m pretty sure Sheila already has a few things in the calendar already.” Business dinners? Now that Emily thought about it, it sort of made sense for a CEO to be attending those. Had she been doing those at all since she came? She wasn’t getting in the way, was she? She looked at Joyce with concern, trying to decipher what she might be thinking… And that was the worst part: trying to figure out Joyce’s thoughts. Emily knew Joyce would never tell her something if she was going to feel bad about it, and she certainly would feel bad. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden and a nuisance. She knew Joyce would never think of her as that, but that didn’t mean Emily wasn’t, objectively speaking… “Well, you never know,” Mary spoke with a slight tease of suspense, as she reeled in the bigger catch. “Maybe you could use one of them to show Emily off?” Caught off guard for just a few moments, Joyce registered the idea with a small bit of apprehension. Bringing Emily to her business stuff? There were a lot of factors to consider, and Joyce was honestly a little scared to imagine the possible outcome. What? What was Joyce’s mom thinking?! Emily could already see it now. Standing in front of a large crowd, watching Emily’s each and every step, seeing what a “commoner” acted like, and be amused as she try and assimilate among the social elite. Worst of all, when she did inevitably mess up, it would of course be at the expense of Joyce’s very real reputation. Not even taking the reality into account, the thought alone was crippling enough. “Maybe...maybe we can talk about it later,” Joyce tried to laugh it off, and Emily didn’t know how to react at all. “I’d honestly never thought about it, so I think we should table that one.” She looked over to Emily, who seemed to be drowning yet again in her worrisome thoughts. What snapped her out of it though was a plump stack of cake, fruit, and chocolate laced with cream entering her mouth. Blushingly, she looked over to Joyce who’d slipped the fork into her mouth. Mumbling through the food, Emily whined, “Joyce!” “Sorry,” Joyce chuckled. “You looked like you needed it. And also,” she took the fork yet again and grabbed another section. “I think you promised me my own bite?” Without waiting for an answer, Joyce popped the food into her own mouth. She couldn’t handle as much as Emily, but every once and awhile it was always a pleasant taste. “Ooh Joyce, I think you made her a little grumpy,” Mary teased, which then had Emily wide-eyed as she retreated into a blush. As quickly as it came, so did it go… Joyce sighed through her nose. “Mary, Frank,” Or maybe it didn’t? “you guys are always so funny!” Emily didn’t know why she was saying it, and knew she had no real prompt to, but for some reason she oddly just felt like saying it anyways. Regardless of whether anyone asked her or not, she didn’t feel scared to unload her thoughts for once. “You guys remind me of a young, married couple.” “Did you hear that, hon?” Frank with enthusiasm looked to Mary. “She said we’re young!” “Wrong,” Mary said. The timing reminded Emily of a cartoon where a mischievous coyote might get an anvil dropped on his head. “She thinks we’re young. Nevertheless, she knows how to get on our good side.” “I didn’t mean to call you ol-” “Wait!” Frank stopped her. The deepness of his voice made it seem like an unyielding command. “Don’t say the ‘o’ word. It’s our kryptonite!” “Old.” Mary finished for her, and in a spastic motion Frank put a hand to his chest, right where his heart was. Frank slowly let go of his chest and looked with worry to his wife. “Are you trying to kill us?” “Quit it with your jokes! The only reason she hasn’t gone running yet is that Joyce is blocking her in the booth!” “Mom? Dad?” Joyce interrupted their silly feud, once again unnerved by the topic. Soon after normal conversation resumed, and so did the eating. At some point Emily ran out of coffee, and as much as she didn’t want to acknowledge its usefulness, Emily with extreme reluctance drank from her glass of milk. She had half a mind to order another coffee, but she could do without the likely comment from their waitress about needing to finish her milk. The milk tasted fine, but the connotations with it were bitter. It almost felt like admitting defeat. When Joyce took a bite from her egg, she looked up to say something to her mom, then after giving it a few moments she looked back down to her food for another bite. But wait. Something, something wasn’t right? Nothing seemed out of place, but, something did at the same time? Awkwardly hung up on the weirdness, she took another bite and went back to the conversation. And then it happened again. Only more so this time. Whatever it was, it felt more glaring this time, and still she was struggling to find out what it was. Then something seemingly insignificant tipped her off. Wasn’t there less bacon on her plate now? With only one logical culprit, she slowly turned her gaze to the girl running low on pancake. She could see the smallest bit of syrup on the corner of her mouth, but there was something else there too… Small, tiny bits of something. Licking her thumb, Joyce swabbed the corner of her mouth before Emily could protest and gave the sample a taste. Syrup, sure enough. And…bacon. “Something you want to own up to, buster?” “...No idea what you’re talking about.” “Oh? So the bacon disappeared on its own, then?” Damn! How did she know? Emily made extra sure to be sneaky about it! Well, as sneaky as she could be… Mary and Frank probably saw the whole thing unfold. Though, of course no good captain wouldn’t go down with their ship, so Emily sought to see it till the end. “...Yes?” “Alright then,” Joyce gave a small breath. Then, before Emily could react, an innocent blueberry was taken from its home on her pancakes, and was thrown into the merciless torture chamber of Joyce’s mouth, shredding it into pieces with her teeth. “What was that for?” “What do you mean?” Joyce laughed. “You started it!” “I did no such thing!” Even if it was a bad lie, Emily still wouldn’t let it die. “He had a home, you know?” “The blueberry?” “Who else? Their small charade paused when they could hear Frank and Mary cracking up. Emily wasn’t feeling so playful anymore with an audience, and suddenly realized that she may have been getting too caught up in the moment. That was starting to feel dangerously close to the ‘Emmy’ side… The meal did eventually come to an end, and everyone by then was more than satisfied. “Everyone have a good meal?” Abigail, their waitress, had returned. “Absolutely delicious!” Frank complimented. “You’re a great cook!” The waitress laughed over the joke as she was collecting plates. She leaned closer to Mary. “You know, I hope at least one of you keeps this guy on a leash!” “Oh trust me, I try,” Mary sighed as if it were her lifelong struggle. And maybe to a certain degree it was. “‘Course, at least you’ve got your daughter to give a hand,” she made a notion towards Joyce. “Years of practice!” Joyce laughed. The waitress continued to make small talk as she built up a stack of cleared plates. “So what’s the plan for you guys today?” “Well once we finish things up here I think we’re gonna go check out the zoo. My parents are visiting and they’ve never been.” “Ohh, that sounds like fun. I’m sure your daughter’s looking forward to it, too?” Unfortunately, it was too obvious who she was referring to. Joyce briefly looked to Emily, who partly hiding behind Joyce’s shoulder clearly looked mortified. Frank and Mary seemed a bit caught off guard too. Everyone in their own mind was realizing just how far they let this woman’s understanding spiral out of control. Though, Joyce’d be lying if she said the comment didn’t tickle her in the slightest...even if right now wasn’t an appropriate moment for such words. “...Yes, actually.” Emily had to nearly bite down on her tongue. She gripped dearly onto the past words of comfort, trying her best to understand it was in some twisted way better than calling her out on her very dumb mistake. “She’s excited to see the sea otters.” “Well, I won’t keep you guys waiting. I’ll be right back with the bill.” She walked away, and Emily did not look pleased, and Joyce could feel the frustration radiating from her. “You’re not mad at me, right?” Emily sighed, and like a deflating balloon the bulk of the tension drained from her as well. “No. I just hate being called a kid, that’s all.” “Don’t forget you promised to make it up to her?” Frank added. “Yes. Yes I did.” Even if it looked childish, Joyce patted her on the head. Joyce politely stole the rights to the bill, as she handled everything accordingly. Her parents tried to at least chip in, but for once Joyce wasn’t budging. Still, Emily admired how they tried to fight tooth and nail. It somewhat reminded her of herself. Nowadays, Joyce need only give her a look, and like a well-trained pet Emily would cease her attempts. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Joyce slipped out of the booth and waited for Emily. When everyone stood, you wouldn’t think anything of it; just a simple action from a simple person with nothing special about it. Emily, however, couldn’t help but feel critical of herself once her own footwear hit the ground. Unlike everyone else, her sandals had a tough material to them, which is why they made the clashing noises they did once the wooden blocks to her heels hit the tiled floor. Even when she was out of diapers she couldn’t help but make countless, loud noises. Mary and Frank were leading the way, but Mary turned her head back to Joyce and somewhat Emily. “Were you being serious about the otter bit?” “Kind of? Emily’s never seen one in real life before.” “That should be fun then, huh?” Mary looked to Emily, who was finding it harder and harder to look forward to this outing. She didn’t know whether she was being seen as a kid or an adult. No matter how Mary acted, Emily didn’t feel like she could sense a definitive answer. The receptionist bid them farewell, and the quartet were soon back in the car and pulling out. The drive there was filled with plenty of small talk, and even though Emily tried her best, she obviously started to doze off once she exceeded her 15-minute limit. “Maybe you’re the one that’s tired, hon?” Mary chuckled as she looked over. With a natural rhythm stuck on repeat, Emily’s eyelids would slowly drift downwards, then suddenly rise with a start, but once again find themselves closing over and over again. “I’m fine, really.” Emily blinked, desperately trying to hold onto her alert and awakened consciousness. And as Mary watched her, she more and more looked like the kettle to Emily’s pot. It felt a bit rude to mentally check out on the people who might actually have a reason to fall asleep, unlike herself. Nevertheless, conversation felt exactly like what she needed right now. Anything that stimulated the senses was enough to keep her alert. Joyce knew exactly why she wouldn’t go to sleep, because, of course, the thought of how she’d look in front of her parents worried her. She wanted to speak up, but something told her Emily wouldn’t appreciate the extra attention… She glanced at the console GPS and could see they had a decent drive ahead of themselves. A single look at the rearview told her Emily was certainly putting herself through the ringer. Joyce simply sighed the smallest bit. How are you gonna have fun if you won’t cut yourself some slack? And suddenly Joyce was starting to feel a little selfish, and of course she decided to indulge herself. “Hey mom, so how’s the wedding plans for Jack and Hannah going?” Even the greatest plans required the greatest sacrifices. She may as well have just opened Pandora’s Box, all for Emily’s sake. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot!” The topic certainly seemed to excite her, and the beast had been stirred awake. “You wouldn’t believe the flower arrangements they’re using for the table centerpieces, they look beautiful! Oh! And the location! You’ve never seen it, have you? There’s going to be so many people. The band they’re looking at seems like a real good one, too. Did I mention the theme they’re going for? It’s...” And on and on she went. Of course, that was the intention. While Mary focused her attention on Joyce, it left Emily with none, and once again she was left to her own devices, which is exactly what had her fading away in the first place. Emily knew it wasn’t intentional (though it was), but she wished Joyce wasn’t hogging all the spotlight. At this rate she really was going to fall asleep! But she wouldn’t. No, of course not. Not in a million years. She needed to be active and alert. Though, being outside of the city didn’t really afford her much scenery to marvel at. Trees, trees, and trees. At least in the city the buildings knew how to change things up a little. Brick, marble, cement, stone? You’d think mother nature would take some notes. The blur of bark and leaves passing by the window played like a track on repeat. A stroke of brilliance hit her however. Maybe if she closed her eyes for a few seconds, something would change when she opened them? Making an obviously level-headed decision, her vision went black for a few moments. Or, maybe for a few minutes… Regardless, when she opened them, the outside looked no different. Damn. Her brilliant idea that she thought was certain to work had failed her, and she knew it probably wouldn’t work if she tried again. That being said, the one part she didn’t mind was the eye closing bit… But it wasn’t sleeping. No. Sleeping was the last thing she wanted to be caught doing right now. Emily proceeded to “rest her eyes,” while Joyce entertained her mom by throwing in passive comments, the kind that was just enough to indicate there was a listener. It wasn’t even really a conversation when a single person did the talking, but either neither one noticed or cared. Mary likely the former, and Joyce certainly the latter. There was finally a pause in Mary’s spiel, as she suddenly switched tracks. “You’ve got her all figured out, don’t you?” “What do you mean?” Joyce jokingly feigned innocence. She glanced in the mirror to see her sound asleep. “I hardly even noticed when she dozed off?” “You weren’t kidding when you said vehicles make her go out like a light,” Frank chimed in. “Oh yeah,” Joyce nodded with firm certainty. “I’m surprised she lasted for as long as she did,” in a hushed laugh she finally turned her full focus back to the other two and the road. “So? What do you two think?” She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Think about what?” “Come on...” Joyce sounded a little less confident now too, “You know what I mean.” “Joyce, hon,” her dad decided to take this one. “You’re our daughter, but you’re your own person. The last thing you need is your parent’s approval.” “I know, but...” “I like her.” Mary said simply and absolutely. “But, are you sure it’s okay to talk like this? I know she’s asleep, but she’s not exactly in another room.” “It’ll be fine. I bet she could sleep through an earthquake if she tried hard enough, and compared to how she is now, it wouldn’t take much.“ “Well, I can envy that,” Frank turned his head back at an awkward angle to see, oddly enough seeming impressed. “And I like her too. I mean, we both have a lot to learn about each other, considering all we’ve done is have lunch together, but she seems nice.” It wasn’t intentional, but a small breath of relief escaped Joyce. “Though, I guess there’s one small thing?” “...And what’s that?” “She seems...reserved?” Mary sounded as if she weren’t even sure herself. “She definitely strikes me as the shy type.” It was unfortunately a glaring quality of hers right now. They had probably been thinking it from the start but were too polite to speak on it. It didn’t make Emily any less perfect to Joyce, rather, it only made her sorrowful to think her special girl was inhibited by something only time and exposure could solve. Everyone in the car that was conscious knew there was no ill intent behind the words, but rather saw it as an unfortunate observation. “Truthfully, I think this whole visit caught her off guard. I know it did for me, at least.” Without even needing to look, the culprit in question was obviously feeling the brunt of targeted words. She softened her voice again.“Just don’t think too badly of her? She still has some nerves...” Again, Joyce felt guilty for confiding in her parents like this, secretly behind Emily’s back, but a face to face conversation always made her resolve weak... Mary was the first to dismiss Joyce’s worries though. “Joyce, we’d never do that to her, or you. Maybe we did come a little early… I’ll take some responsibility for that.” More like all of it, which was likely passing through Joyce’s head, and maybe even her dad’s… Speak of the devil, he was the next to speak. “Why don’t we give them a breather, hon? We could meander for a little bit while they spend some time together?” “What?” Joyce slightly turned her head, then back to the road. “You’re kidding, right? You guys just got here!” “We wouldn’t mind, Joyce,” her mom agreed. “Why don’t you two take an hour together when we get there?” Already willing to part ways just when they got here, Joyce could only remain stupefied over how unusual her mom was being right now. Never in a million years could she imagine the woman actually giving someone personal space. Emily didn’t realize it, but she truly could move mountains… “I appreciate it, and I’m sure Emily would too, but really, it’s fine.” “We don’t want to impose...” As nicely as Joyce could possibly say it, her mom definitely was imposing, somewhat. “You’re fine!” Joyce reassured anyways. “You’re not imposing, and Emily wouldn’t want us split from you either. She really does want to get to know you guys better.” Even if her nerves won’t make it easy... On top of that, she’d probably feel even worse if she knew she was the reason why she and Joyce were alone together. “There’ll be plenty of time for us to do our own thing together. For now it’ll be the four of us.” “If you’re sure...” Mary reluctantly conceded, while her husband equally if not more left it at that. “But do you have any pointers?” “Pointers?” “Her likes? Dislikes? Something to help us get started on the right foot?” “Mom, she’s not a kid.” Truly it did scare her how much they managed to toe that line when Emily wasn’t around. Trying to imagine how Emily might feel secondhand was terrifying enough. “We’re all adults? Just please be patient. She really did want to make a good first impression.” “I know that, sweetheart, and that’s why I want to try and help.” Just when she was willing to keep her distance, yet again was her mother becoming emotionally involved. “Help her by not helping,” Joyce said her piece simply. “I’m already blowing this out of proportion, so forget we even talked about this, okay?” For once she hoped her mom would listen. On her watch, Joyce never could seem to jump to a clean slate. It was always unfinished business with her. “Fine.” You’d almost think she was annoyed. The ride was silent for a few minutes longer until the tension seemed to have dissipated. In a still slightly serious tone she added, “You two look very adorable together, though.” Joyce was as equally as firm. “Thank you.” Of course her cheeks wouldn’t be not warm after hearing that. “Emily? Hellooo...you in there?” A finger kept gingerly prodding her cheek. “You know, I never knew your cheeks were so squishy…” The voice sounded inquisitive and curious. “You’d never think, you know? What with you being so slim...” The poking didn’t stop, and even still half-asleep Emily knew the entire exchange was silly enough to laugh at. “...Joyce?” Rubbing her eyes, she called out to the almost certain evil-doer. “Bingo!” Emily could feel the cool skin press against her own, intermittent with the wavy strands of hair coming from both women. “Honestly, I can’t tell what had the bigger effect: your little food coma or the car ride itself.” “Car…? What are you talking about?” Emily finally blinked enough to go without needing to shut them again for a decent while. Leaning through the open doorway Joyce slightly loomed over her with patches of sunlight bleeding all around her. As the sun itself, she looked strangely symbolic. Joyce giggled as she moved her hand and Emily suddenly felt her seatbelt unstrap itself. “The zoo? Did you forget already?” “I...no, but,” she turned her head to the other side of the car, seeing it was empty, and also there wasn’t a head in front of her in the passenger seat. As bashful as she was for not making good on her personal resolve, she didn’t want to let any potential eavesdroppers in on her shame. “Where’s Frank and Mary?” “They said they needed to take a lap,” Joyce chuckled. “Sitting for too long isn’t great for the joints, in my dad’s words, at least. Think you wanna go see some animals with us? Or should I tell them you have a few more z’s to catch?” “That’s not funny,” Emily pouted, though she of course couldn’t hide her smile. The next thing on her mind she knew what was likely the answer, but Joyce somehow made it feel okay for once to act naive. “Did.they see me sleeping?” Joyce cocked a brow as she tilted her head. “I mean, I guess?” She slightly laughed over the oddity. “Why does it matter?” “...It’s nothing.” Her brows then slightly furrowed. “No, it is not,” Joyce excused herself into the seat as she slid Emily further in for space. “You wouldn’t be asking something like that if it wasn’t.” “Nevermind. I’m just worrying about stuff I shouldn’t be,” Emily plainly spoke as she was already looking to get out of the car, but Joyce wasn’t budging. “Oh no, you don’t get to drop it that easily,” Joyce guided Emily’s cheeks into her hands as they locked eyes. “Talk to me, won’t you? When has there ever been a problem that us talking couldn’t solve, or at least make better?” Emily was quiet, and Joyce had fastly come to her own conclusion. “It’s okay to be yourself around my parents, you know? You’re the only one making this hard on yourself.” Even after all the pep-talks they’d already had, still she couldn’t seem to get through to her. “You promised me we’d have fun today, right? Being gloomy is the same as breaking your promise, you know?” She hoped some lighthearted humor would put some pep back into her mood, and it looked like it did somewhat, at least. “I don’t know why I can’t let it go,” Emily sounded pained and distressed. “I’ve just, I’ve never been in a situation like this before.” The words felt harder and harder to find. “Everything just feels so...so fast.” “...Because you’re with another woman?” “N, no, that’s not...” Emily tried to dismiss the idea, but when looking directly at Joyce, her voice trembled and her eyes became glossy. Could that really be it? No! She tried to deny it, but deep down the way her body was reacting was telling enough. It only made her feel worse to look back into her sympathetic smile. She’d been vulnerable to Joyce so many times, and had never been engaged with someone so intimately, ever, and especially not with the same sex. Nothing in her life right now felt old, generic, or usual. Everything was fresh, new, raw, and sensitive. The last thing she wanted to do though was admit her hesitation; admit her fear and apprehensions associated with Joyce. She loved her with all her heart, but that didn’t change the outward fears she held despite Joyce accepting her wholeheartedly, and for that reason she felt like scum. “It’s okay, alright?” “No it isn’t; it’s being rude to you!” As hated as Emily felt, she still threw herself into Joyce. “There’s nothing wrong with you, or your parents. It’s just because I’m so bad at accepting this! But I want to! I do! So why?” Yet, Joyce’s voice never wavered. “You’ve never been in a relationship like this before, right? Didn’t you say it yourself?” She stroked the girl’s hair. “Emily, I’d never be mad at you for something like that. In fact, I’m surprised you’ve been able to handle it this well so far.” If the shoe were on the other foot, Joyce would likely be in the same boat as Emily. Regardless of being a perfect match for each other, there were more factors to a relationship than just one-on-one intimacy, and now was a clear testament to that. “You have every right in the world to be scared, and I want to do everything in my power to keep you from feeling that way, but I need you to trust me if you want things to get better.” Joyce’s acceptance and understanding was beyond relieving, but Emily knew she shouldn’t expect anything less from her. “So, so you’re not mad?” “I could never be mad! Everything that’s happening now is new and different for us both. I can only imagine all the different odds and ends going on inside of your head right now; inside your heart. But I don’t want you to worry, because I know you love me; you’ve made that clear. Anything secondary to that is something I can handle, and if it’s something you want me to, I can help you work through.” “...I don’t deserve you.” “But I guess you’re still stuck with me,” Joyce snickered as she hugged Emily for just a moment. “I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” Emily was still nestled against her. “Can you help me?” Joyce answered her question with another. “That depends. Can you trust me?” “You know I do,” Emily mumbled, and Joyce silently agreed. The two exchanged looks once more. “Then try letting go today. Really try. And by that I mean don’t try.” Emily looked like a gear in her head had just been popped loose. Chuckling, Joyce tried to explain. “I mean that you should just go with the flow; have fun and don’t worry about your surroundings.” That sounded a lot like her alter ego. “But isn’t that like--?” Her question was quickly silenced. “And what’s wrong with borrowing a little from a more carefree mindset?” She smiled, knowing exactly who she was alluding to. “It won’t make you look like a baby, I promise. It’ll be a cure for all those butterflies in your stomach.” And as if on cue, a hand was suddenly tickling Emily’s stomach through the fabric of her dress. Just as she tried to push away Joyce’s other free arm was wrapped around her waist. “Okay! Okay!” Somehow she managed to plea between her helpless giggles. “Just let me go! You win!” “This, is the Emily I wanted to see today. And just so you know, my parents are practically in love with you already, so you can only do yourself a favor by enjoying yourself.” She helped her out of the car. “Thank you, Joyce. I think I feel better now.” “Good,” Joyce nodded approvingly. “If you were any gloomier, I would’ve had us skip the otters.” “You’re the one that wants to see them, not me,” Emily giggled. “You’re such a bad liar,” Joyce joked, sticking to her fabricated story. “I know you’re excited, so there’s no need to pretend.” Joyce happily took Emily’s hand as they strolled through the parking lot. Emily looked from side to side, seeing the few pockets of pedestrians navigate themselves from their cars to the guiding signs. “How big is this place?” Emily kept catching glances of endless cars between the cracks of many. “Decently sized, I think. Wanna ride on my shoulders and see?” Joyce smirked. Emily feigned a ‘hmmf.’ “I think I like my feet on the ground, thank you very much. How are we gonna find your mom and dad?” “My guess is they’re already waiting at the entrance.” The pair banked a left, thanks to the helpful lemur plastered to a giant, wooden arrow. “They’re probably talking about the ticket prices right now. You know how they are when it comes to money...” Joyce nearly rolled her eyes, but of course it was in good fun. “How much are they gonna be?” At the other end of the asphalt stretch, they could see the roofed ticket booth serving as the barrier between the outside lot and all the attractions. Thankfully it was warmer here than in the city, because they left behind their jackets. “Not sure? Not that you should be worrying about it, though,” she looked judgingly to Emily, who kept her eyes looking forward. Sure enough, the elderly couple were sat on a bench a decent distance away from the booth, a place that wasn’t submerged in passing people. “All rested up?” Frank chuckled as they rose from their seat to meet the two. There was a slight pause from Emily, but with a recent reminder in the back of her head, she tried her best to laugh as well. “Sorry about that… Maybe Joyce sorta does have a point about me and cars...” “Well I was saying earlier how impressive that is!” Emily only laughed. “You think I’m kidding, but really. I’d pay anything for a power like that!” He leaned in closer with a lower voice. “Heck, not sure how you did it with this one sitting next to you...” With an obvious gesture, he pointed to his wife, who looked equally as happy to see Emily cheerful, but also annoyed that it was at the expense of being her husband’s joke. “Would you quit it, will you? She’s gonna think we fight like cats and dogs when we’re alone!” “We don’t?” Mary didn’t seem to appreciate that comment. He looked to Emily worriedly. “I don’t think she liked that one...” While Emily served as Frank’s middleman, Joyce became one for Mary. “Joyce, you better keep Emily away from this guy. He’s always been a bad influence on newcomers to the family...” “Instead of these two animals right out here, how about we go watch some inside?” Joyce cheekily added. Emily tried to stifle a giggle, whilst Joyce’s parents gave her a look but inevitably a smirk. By the time they got in line they caught a spot that gave them express access to the teller. A teenage girl behind a glass window was happy to receive them, speaking through the multiple holes in the barrier. “Hi, welcome! Are you guys having a good day today?” “It’s been going well,” Joyce pleasantly replied. “Could I get four tickets, please?” “Sure thing. Just for the four of you, you said?” In her chair she spun to her left where she interacted with something they couldn’t see from the other side. Absentmindedly she counted off to herself. “One, two, three...and...one! That’ll be $55, please.” Everyone but Joyce quietly minded their personal gripes about the tall order, meanwhile she produced a card without a thought. After the transaction was made the tickets were given to each and every person. Thus far the moment was relatively mundane and neutral, but Emily frowned once she saw her ticket. For the most part it was normal, though the bold, printed text was a little bit too cruel than Emily would have liked. ‘1 CHILD ADMISSION’ She narrowed her brows just from looking at it. Not like it would fix anything, but Emily wordlessly flashed the print to Joyce as they were walking further in. She gave it a curious glance then with a smile quietly said, “No restraints today, right?” Pondering for just a few more moments, the ticket was back by her side as the steam factory died off early. Joyce suddenly started to giggle. “Besides, good going on saving us $5!” Like five dollars meant anything, though maybe the trivialness of it all was what had the corners of her mouth being tugged at. They deposited their tickets into the machines and passed through the rotating bars, now inside the animal kingdom. Already among the noises of people Emily could hear the faint chirps, squawks and squeaks of the avian wildlife, well, wild, sort of. And speaking of people, the place seemed to be a bit crowded, leaving little real estate for the individual. “Wow, there sure are a lot of people, huh?” Mary commented as they already gravitated to the side for refuge. “Mmm...” Joyce pensively agreed. “I’ll say. Why don’t I go grab us a map?” Frank suggested. He already started weaving himself back into the crowd. Seeing him with some distance also forced the imagination to consider him a beacon, seeing how his head stood well-above most of the passerby. Her eyes panned the sight, watching countless, indistinguishable heads of hair. They all looked to be around her height... “Remember girls, if you get lost, Frank the walking lighthouse will steer you to shore.” Joyce quietly watched him walk away, though still managing to track his head that stood just enough above the many others. It had gotten to the point where he was too far for Emily to see, unfortunately. The immediate crowd was too tall for even Frank’s exceptional footage to overcome. For some reason she felt like Mary’s little tip didn’t apply so well to her… Then, it took her a second to register that a hand took hold of hers. Spinning her head, she could see it was Joyce’s. “Why’d you do that?” Just to be clear, Emily held their interlocked fingers in front of them as physical proof. “...Because I felt like it,” Joyce said with a smile. Though, what she wasn’t letting on about was the odd feeling in her chest when she watched her dad walk away. Something about the massive numbers in the park, then looking over to Emm-ily… The tides of people seemed awfully unforgiving, and with her dad struggling to look like a sore thumb, that only meant it was even worse for the other end of the spectrum. Finding the average person in itself would be a challenge, and anything less than that... Whatever the reason, it oddly put her at ease to have a hand as proof of Emily’s whereabouts. She could already feel her inklings of anxiety drying up. “Alrighty, let’s see what we have here!” Frank’s voice snapped Joyce out of her mental jargon as he came back with a pamphlet in hand. “Needless to say, there’s plenty of attractions to keep us busy. What are we thinking about for the big stuff? Lions, bears, lynx, sphynx, pterodactyl, minotaur, dragon?” With each creature that deviated one step further from reality, the female trio looked at him with more and more confusion. As if her dad never rambled off his fantasy list to begin with, Joyce said, “My vote is the giraffes.” The passion she had in her expression made it hard for Emily not to laugh. Still facilitating their little democracy, Frank took a survey. “One for the giraffes. Any objections?” “None from me.” Emily shrugged. “Nope!” “Then...” Frank started chipperly, then quickly diverted his eyes back to the map. “...Away we go!” Suddenly with a direction in mind, he led the line with Emily and Joyce at the caboose, still linked by their local chain; hand to hand. Again, to Emily it felt that there was something strange going on, but trying to keep her promise, she kept pushing her needless concerns to the back of her mind. They knew they’d found them when giant, yellow brown-spotted necks carefully and artfully angling themselves to the hanging branches and leaves came into view. Even with the people blocking the display in front of them, Emily could still see the living skyscrapers and their complacent, calm looks that made them all the more majestic as they roamed their miniature habitat. “Whoa...that’s, really tall.” Emily didn’t really have anything intelligent to say, though that didn’t stop her from unloading her stream of consciousness. She looked up to Joyce who had the slight advantage. “Can you see if there are any more in there?” “That’s a good question...” Joyce answered, but was admittedly a little captivated by the larger than life creatures. She leaned forward the slightest bit on her toes. “Dad, can you see anything?” “Ah...let’s see...Yep! Think I do. See by that rock over there? There’s a little speck of yellow moving?” “Oh, you’re right!” Mary jumped in. “It must still be a baby, it’s so tiny! Well, tiny to the parents, I suppose.” The mere sight of its adorably frail and clumsy body made Joyce’s heart flutter. It reminded her so much of any newborn of any species; young, innocent, naive, and silly. “It’s so cute!” The other spectators seemed to agree, because it was apparently doing something that had everyone giving it ‘coos’ and ‘awws.’ Meanwhile, Emily managed to slip herself by a few people and politely excuse herself between the congestion to reach the high glass wall. Now that the other side was clear as day, she could understand what had everyone so captivated. On four shaky legs, a newborn struggled to support itself as it shakily scurried about. Whether it be the mother or father, it seemed to gravitate to either one as it looked to and fro, completely and amusingly oblivious to its surroundings and watchers. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it as her heart swayed and jumped with each suspenseful moment it looked as if the baby would fall over. At some point he was trying to hone in on a bush, and also at some point Emily decided in her head he was a ‘he’ He just managed his way over and helped himself to a few leaves, and Emily let out a small breath of relief. Where Mary, Joyce, and Frank were closer together, they were all soaking in the sight for a few moments longer. “Did you know their tongues are black?” Mary said, throwing in a little fun fact. “I suppose that would make sense,” Joyce thought for a second. “They’re mostly from Africa, so it’s because of the sun, right?” “Makes sense to me. And those things are miles long!” Frank seemingly awestruck said. “We should go on a safari sometime, hon...” “Maybe we should sometime. We’ll have to get the whole family to go,” Mary said, then with an increasingly alluding tone, looked to Joyce. Then she looked a little past her with a curious look. “Speaking of which, where did Emily go off to?” “Where? She’s right...” Joyce turned her head to where she expected her to be, but was a little dumbfounded when she wasn’t. It was against her better judgement, but an uncomfortable feeling gripped her. “Dad? Can you see her?” She was already moving from her spot, hoping she knew where to find her. All she saw were people that weren’t Emily, and further obstacles to her discovery. She could call her, but… “Emily?” Joyce already started to call her name out. “Emily? You out there?” “Emily? Hon, where’d ya go?” Frank in his much deeper, unintentionally commanding voice called, causing a few heads to turn. Emily suddenly heard her name twice over, and froze up a little over the sound of being called out. Did they really think she was lost? No, it wasn’t their fault. It felt more to Emily that she was lost. Though, after a few more seconds left to her own devices she found a devious idea lurking in the shadows of her head. Keeping close to the display glass, she walked along the side, reaching the outside edge of the crowd of spectators with a neverending smirk, anticipating the big reveal. “Emily?” Joyce tried to raise her voice, and there was an unmistakable tinge of shakiness to it. Why was she getting so worried? Emily, her partner, her girlfriend, was a fully fledged adult. She could take care of herself, so why was there that awkward sense of responsibility tethered to Joyce’s fears? “Have you tried calling her phone yet?” Mary suggested. “I’m gonna try right now...” She already had her phone in hand and was calling her. She tapped her foot impatiently. Couldn’t these things ring any faster? Emily could feel her phone vibrating in the pocket of her shorts, and she likely knew who it was. She felt unusually cruel doing this, though she was hoping the humorous factor would outweigh the panic she hoped there was little of right now. It went to voicemail, and her heart sank. “She didn’t pick up...” Joyce kept looking around. Was she playing a trick? For a joke, this annoyed her to no end. Then again, how could Emily know she was feeling this way? There were two different voices inside her head, fighting for emotional control, and one seemed to be much more passionate than the other. “Dad, please? Do you see anything?” Emily was thinking back to the kitchen as she slowly crept up behind a familiar back. Clad in her diaper, somehow Joyce knew she was coming and in fact got the jump on her. Something told her now though that the tables weren’t going to be turned at the last minute. With a smirk, and a slight opening to make her pounce, she leaped forward, shouting, “Boo!” A pair of arms wrapped around her waist as the sudden force from behind made her take a step forward. She easily undid the girl’s grip, then spun around to look at her. Emily, expecting a laugh and typical Joyce-like comment, instead found a distressed look on the verge of tears. “Where were you? I tried calling you!” Taken aback, Emily awkwardly said, “I thought it would be funny if...” It seems Joyce’s idea about the trick was right on the nose, and it bothered her to no end on a personal level that she herself couldn’t see it that way. “It wasn...” Joyce paused for a moment to rub her eyes and take a breath. “Just please, don’t do it again?” She could go on as to why it shook her so much, but her personal gripes didn’t matter nearly as much as Emily’s wellbeing. Emily, now looking remorseful, didn’t feel so worthy of physical affection nor a lighthearted laugh anymore. “Joyce, I didn’t mean...” Emily’s voice was thick. She wanted to think that she was following Joyce’s instructions from the car, but now it didn’t feel so much as a carefree attitude. She never considered that the idea of actually being gone might terrify her lover. Joyce was the first to initiate the hug, who more than either one was craving the physical affection. “I’m not mad, I promise. You just scared me a little, that’s all...” Feeling all the familiar parts of her beloved was a welcomed comfort. “Oh, you found her?” Mary found the pair hugging, and Frank soon followed after. “Where did you go, Emily?” “I needed to get a little closer to see the giraffes,” she sounded a little sheepish. “Sorry if you guys thought I was lost...” “I think you may have given our daughter a scare...” Frank said, noting the now calmer-looking Joyce. Emily looked a little lower to the ground. “I think I overreacted,” Joyce laughed it off, and Emily could feel the spear run through her chest from the mere sound of her words. She knew she was pretending now that her parents were here, and now there lay a problem that was swept under the rug, to which Emily sat at the root of. “But I’ve got her now.” Joyce’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, the kind of contact Emily didn’t feel so deserving of. Mary looked over to her husband. “How about we go see another pen? We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” “Sounds good to me. You ever see a black bear before, Emily?” “No… Well, once, I think.” Much to everyone’s dismay by varying degrees, she sounded reserved again. “Not in the wild, I hope?” “No,” Emily forced a smile. “At a sanctuary.” Frank and Mary took the lead once more, and Emily was waiting for Joyce to let go of her hand, but she didn’t. “Joyce, I’m sorry about what I did… I wasn’t thinking that you might be scared.” “No, I’m the one in the wrong. I should’ve been clear with you from the start...” “About what?” “There’s just a lot of people here, that’s all...” Joyce seemed a bit nervous. “I don’t want us to get separated.” “...But, you know I’m not Emmy right now, right?” “...I do.” “So, then, don’t you think you’re being a little overprotective right now?” “I am, but...” “But why not trust me a little? Aren’t we equals?” “We are, but that doesn’t change how you’re vulnerable!” Her reasoning was sudden and came from the wrong place. “Then what about in the city? When you took me to get a phone? You didn’t feel the need to hold my hand constantly then?” “Wouldn’t you agree that things are different now?” Joyce knew better than to ramble off like this, but she wanted to make her point clean and clear. “You’re my responsibility, Emily, just as much as I am yours.” “Well I don’t think I need to hold your hand to make sure you don’t get lost, Joyce.” “Emily, please, I don’t want to argue, that's not what I mean...” “So do I have a point, then? Joyce, I know you’re telling me to be carefree, but I’m already getting treated like a child everywhere we go by every stranger we meet! Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” She didn’t mean it, but the implication of betrayal cut deep into her partner. “Please? Just put a little faith in me?” Emily could feel her grip go limp and soon her hand was back by her own side. It was a victory, somewhat, but it didn’t feel like one. She looked at Joyce’s back, which felt incredibly cold now. Emily was right. Joyce should know better than to belittle her like that. Looking back on it, not once has she been there for her today. It’s been countless compromise after compromise, slowly inching towards a field out of Emily’s favor. She didn’t have a right to be angry or sad with Emily. She was able to leave their secret relationship behind closed doors, so why couldn’t Joyce? Even with that all in mind, it felt like she was severing a limb to let go of Emily’s hand. All those worries and fears she talked herself into from earlier were coming back in full swing. Totally unfounded, baseless, and likely untrue, yet loud and rambunctious nonetheless. She didn’t feel this terrible since the night of Emily’s recovery dinner. “J...Joyce?” Emily weakly called. Freedom had been achieved, but at what cost? “...I’m fine. I just need some time to think.” She didn’t sound fine, and it made Emily’s chest ache with a horrible throb. “Please, can we talk? I don’t want to leave it like this,” Emily sounded a bit desperate. More than anything she didn’t want to upset the one person who could accept and reciprocate her so wholeheartedly. She couldn’t bear the thought of screwing up the paradise she’d discovered in the ashes of misery and despair. How could the scales have tipped so quickly? Emily could already hear Frank and Mary’s voices ahead. There wouldn’t be time for discussion, and thus the sour mood would linger, and that was a thought she couldn’t stand. She ruined everything with her stupid and selfish ideas. Joyce had every right to be disappointed in her. She provides so much, so why couldn’t Emily give her a simple gesture as peace of mind? How inconsiderate could she be? She was an ungrateful backstabber. “Joyce, look at the size of this thing!” Frank called to her, stealing glances back through the glass. “It’s as big as me!” “I’m sure he has better humor than yours,” Mary jabbed. “Well, I don’t think I’d be able to bear the thought of that.” Mary sighed while her husband laughed at himself. Joyce smiled as she joined the duo. “Did you lose her again?” Mary smirked. “You ought to keep her on a leash, sweetie.” She felt cold hearing the words. Turning around, there was no fourth member on their way. She was gone.

Right-o! I'll be on it ASAP boss! Thanks for commenting! Hmm, I think I followed your advice a bit too well... Awesome to here! I think information can be important at times, but I'll try to do better with breaking it up in the future. Thanks a ton for the encouraging words, and though I may not fully understand what my "style" is, I think you might be on to something. There are certain things that I like to do in my writing that I hope doesn't reflect poorly, but is instead seen as a trait or characteristic of a certain author. Thanks for your comment! Don't worry, I tend to fall behind with my writing too. I don't know if I could have the patience to do this all over again, really. I mean, I probably do, but the payoff for a realistic build-up in their relationship is what I'm aiming for. Big moments like that only become reasonable once the characters have reached a point where it might even be somewhat plausible. Joyce is definitely a super Mommy, whether that be for better or worse. Who knows? And thank you for the like and comment! Roger! Trying to work on the next chapter when I can. And also, thank you for your patience about the whole "getting it right," bit. I don't want to write for this when I don't think I can do it justice, so I want to apologize how that can affect the posting date. That and IRL things. Thank you for your comment and the kind words! Even if Emily might not feel this way, letting it go to some degree is being the bigger person. That, and a convenient plot device. Something that's slowly being made clear is her overall image at the moment when compared to Joyce and her parents is one of a person younger than Emily's actual age. Through and through Joyce is her rock. She might take some teasing from someone close, but not from the everyday stranger. Thanks for commenting! Don't worry, can confirm that the story is not being dropped. I'm sorry for not putting out a status update. I think my biggest reason for not doing that is because when people do see that I post and it's not immediately followed by another chapter, there's likely disappointment. I can understand that you're a dedicated fan and I really appreciate your concern, so please continue to be patient with me as I go about getting a better schedule for this. So like always, thank you so so so so so much for commenting, and I hope you enjoy what I post next! And again, the story is not being dropped! It has not been dropped! Can confirm. Thank you for your concern, but I can guarantee you that I've not stopped writing the next chapter. It's just taking me a little longer than usual. Please be patient with me for a little longer! Thanks for reading!

First and foremost, I cannot express my gratitude enough for the support and enjoyment of this story. It means the world to me that so many of you have been commenting throughout, as well as plenty of new people dropping either a few or a lot of kind words. Again, I want to apologize for my timeliness, be it through postings or comments (though, I think I've gotten better with the posting part, at least for the last few chapters?). I can assure you I've read each and every comment, and I want to take the time to respond to all of them. So I will! Please continue to let me know what you think about my work, and I hope if I don't already, I'll have some other stuff you'll be interested in branching out to. Until the next chapter! (Which will hopefully be soon?) Hey! How have you been? Thanks for leaving a comment! As for what's realistic in this story, I wasn't sure if it was going to be too much of a stretch to pull a stunt like this? But given how Emily compares to Joyce, her parents, and once you factor in her outfit, it overall becomes an easy misunderstanding. In the future, there might be a deeper rabbit hole to go down? I'm not sure yet... Whipped cream is always a solid goto. Chocolate chips as well really take pancakes to an amazing extreme. Can't remember the last time I had them ? Joyce's parents we don't know too much about other than what we can observe firsthand. I'm still ironing out the last few details, but I think I've decided what's going to happen ultimately. Hopefully, you and everyone will be pleased with the result! Though already it seems a few things have slipped through the cracks... Awesome! Happy to hear from you! Hope you're looking forward to the next chapter! I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try and be more mindful down the road, and sometimes second-guess whether or not it's worth adding certain points here and there. I suppose to elaborate on my thought process a little, the dialogue, in particular, I try to make seem like a conversation. There may be seemingly useless bits, but I think it's important in terms of making the characters seem real if that makes sense. In regards to info dump, I imagine it as a sensory gap between what I see as the author and what the reader might see. I don't know if this kind of logic is correct, but I like the idea of conveying a vivid setting/sensation for the sake of better picturing the scene/characters. Maybe it's fair to call it more of a style? I'm not sure. If it was ABDL content you were looking for, I'm sorry it wasn't as explicit in this chapter, but I believe investing into other aspects of the story is what makes it better shine as a whole. Thanks for reading, and I appreciate the constructive criticism! Whoa, thank you for such high praise! Someone around a year ago mentioned the story being a "slow burn," which was said in a good sense, and I can't really disagree with them. I'm sure there's a way to do it faster, but I'm enjoying the slow construction of the characters, namely Emily and Joyce. I want to make both of their transitions/transformations at least somewhat believable, and even if we don't see it so much in Joyce, there's more to her character that I want to clarify as well. Emily gets a lot of the spotlight, but what I also want to include is more moments for Joyce. I consider them both protagonists and think the dynamic will be much more meaningful once it's clear as to where both of them came from, and how far they've come. Thank you for taking the time to get invested in my writing! I hope you continue to read, enjoy, and comment! Yeah, Emily's unexpectedly gotten the short end of the stick. Or has she? There'll be some more tension like that to follow, so Emily will probably be feeling the fire soon enough... She'll be fine though! Probably. Happy to hear your thoughts on the pacing! Positive notes are always nice to hear, and of course, I like to see them the most, but don't hesitate to be strict with me! Thanks for commenting! Thanks! ? Haha, any words are plenty appreciated! I'm glad you're enjoying it! I can't say I'm too good of a writer though... Personally, I can get jealous of certain pieces, as well as get jealous of my past self when I simply had a good tangent. "At The Office" is a good example. I really liked what came from that, and I guess I could only hope that I continue to be as consistent. Writing for this too often can admittedly make my mindset a tad bit more rigid, simply because I'm too busy thinking about what would work best for this story. Nevertheless, apart from "Sheltered," I want to write some other diverse stuff. Thanks for reading! ✋ Guilty. I did too. Yeah, Emily under normal circumstances probably wouldn't get treated like this, but it's definitely caused by being compared with her peers (Namely their height and clothes...). Sometimes hard ID is the only savior in that kind of situation. Maybe Emily might run into an issue like that in the future? Lol, that bad, huh? The kind of feeling I want to work on is in those moments when there's an obvious blunder/surprise with overwhelmingly dead silence. No one knows how to react, and everyone is shocked/stunned/surprised. That's how I imagined Emily's trip and fall with the suitcase. Nothing is certain, but I can definitely imagine Joyce's parents as the type to be killing with kindness, even when they don't realize it. As for what they will discover, I can't guarantee anything, but there may be a few misunderstandings/assumptions later down the road... I'm happy to hear that! Thanks for taking the time to comment! Please continue to let me know your thoughts because I love to hear them!

Yeah, Emily definitely needs to take a breather. It's gonna be a real toss and turn here and there, but that seems like the best conclusion to reach. Of course, there's no gain without a little pain. Joyce's parents is a huge milestone to her, so she feels a massive pressure to impress, which is why she's cracking right now. How things will end by the time they leave is a mystery, but all will be made clear eventually! Thanks for commenting, and I appreciate the kind words! Destruction! ? Thanks for the feedback! And yeah, Emily's definitely having a tough time trying to adjust. In the process of trying to make herself look good, she's definitely overcompensating, hence why there's so much struggle. This visit is likely going to focus on Emily getting used to things, and being more comfortable with herself and others. Mary may or may not be picking up on things, or gravitate to her own conclusions/tendencies. You'll have to wait and see, though! Hope you enjoy to continue reading! 20 - Starting the Day Stripes. The image of failure was burned into her mind, and the remnants of it still poisoned her eyes. It was probably as vivid of a memory for herself as it was for everyone else in the room. Clearly it was a group effort to continuously try and shift the spotlight off of her, and lord did she prefer it that way. Nevertheless, she managed time and time again to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory in such a short span of time. She was probably breaking records and setting an unheard of streak. Even as she stood up she could feel her legs desperately trying to wade themselves through the thick, mucky atmosphere she was drowning herself in. She nearly snapped when she found herself unconsciously eyeing the back of her dress, as if it would’ve been pinned upwards again. If she thought she was embarrassed before, well, her face in other words would make a great alternative to a traditional stove right about now. If it didn’t look so childish, she wouldn’t have taken much issue with holding onto the bottom of her dress until the end of time. Beating herself in the back of the head, why didn’t she just go put some shorts on earlier? Alongside her anxiety, she was drowning in regrets right now too, but she knew what’s been done is done. All she could hope for was trying not to slip any further. “Frank, what did you do?” Mary accusingly looked over to the quiet man who was setting the fallen suitcase upright. “Well, I uh, I figured she could use a hand?” His intentions were obviously good, but the end result couldn’t be called the same… “And what good that did her… Emmy hon, are you sure you’re alright?” Casually, she put a hand on her shoulder. Still flustered, and definitely trying to avoid eye contact, she was too shaken to even correct her mom’s misuse of her name. Emmy was a special title, one that not only did she not want to don right now, but it was also a name exclusively reserved for Joyce. More so, Emily didn’t know whether her compassion made her simply feel cared for, or downright like a kid that needed consoling. “Mom? She’s fine, but you’re calling her Emmy again.” Joyce again had taken the liberty of being Emily’s voice. “Sorry about that,” she looked a bit sheepish as she apologized. “I think I already set myself up for a habit before we even got here...” Emily wanted to die when Joyce’s dad came closer and got on one knee, indirectly highlighting the monumental difference in height. “Sorry about that Emily, I thought I was helping. You sure you’re alright?” “...ye,” she paused to clear her throat, hoping to find some of that ‘gusto’ hidden in the cupboards. “Y-yes. I think I should have let you taken the bags from the start, though,” she tried to laugh it off, but the pressure didn’t seem to dissipate much. “Okay, come on,” Joyce clapped her hands together. “Let me show you guys your room? Dad, could you get all the bags please?” “Way ahead of ya,” with the duffle over his shoulder and the two suitcases in tow, he was the first to be following behind Joyce, meanwhile Mary and Emily shared the caboose. “And you’re sure you alright?” In a lowered voice, Mary looked over to Emily. “That tumble didn’t look too fun...” “Yes, I’m fine,” Emily tried to stay neutral as they followed behind. Suddenly a walk that would normally take Emily 10 seconds was starting to feel stretched to the point of 10 years. She could hear the slight ‘Oohs’ and ‘Ahhs’ from Mary as they passed by the living room. “Joyce, I love what you did with your living room!” From the front she called back. “Well, all I really knew was a big couch would probably be for the best, considering how big the room is. I can definitely say though that Emily gets quite a bit of mileage on it in our free time.” Mary simply laughed as she looked to Emily. “Is that so?” “Uhm, maybe sometimes...” Unlike Joyce, Emily wasn’t feeling so boastful about her lounging habits. Anything that could be perceived as ‘cute’ or ‘adorable’ when with Joyce felt like something totally different with her parents added to the equation. She wasn’t trying to be eye candy, she was trying to be Joyce’s girlfriend! So far, she wasn’t feeling that point was well-translated. It probably would have made more sense to start calling Joyce ‘Mom’ instead… “Whoa! Hon, check out the size of this bed!” Emily was finally left by herself just outside the hallway while Mary and Frank marveled at the sight Emily once did not so long ago. “Woow...” Both paced the room, and Mary gave the comforter a test feel as she then let out a sound of satisfaction when she sat on the mattress. “I don’t suppose we could start paying rent?” “Sorry, max capacity is two,” Joyce joked, holding up her two fingers, suddenly looking around for Emily. “Feel free to use the balcony if you want, and the dresser if empty for the both of you to use.” Her gaze kept drifting elsewhere, looking for something important. “Why don’t you two unpack first, then I can show you the rest of the place?” “Sounds good to me,” her dad answered for him and Mary, as he was somewhat gentle in setting the suitcases on the expensive fabric. “Careful! You’re gonna wrinkle it, or probably damage it!” “Relax hon, I made sure to clear the security deposit beforehand.” Joyce quietly excused herself with a giggle, letting the familial warmth drain from her a bit as she looked over to the pensive Emily hanging by the wall. “Hey, you alright?” quietly she asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, one that Emily actually didn’t mind. “No...” Emily spoke somberly. “It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes and I already screwed everything up!” It felt like her teeth were being pulled alongside her confession. “They probably think I’m some weirdo that wound up in your care...” “Come on, would you quit that?” Still quiet, Joyce sounded upbeat. “They do not think that. My dad’s that way with anybody new, and obviously my mom has practically fallen in love with you...” she said her last point with a bit of apprehension. “But what about what just...you know!” “Well...” Joyce didn’t have an easy answer for that one. “Trust me, I doubt they even care. And even if they did, I’m sure they’ll forget about it in no time.” Yeah right. How could you forget day one of meeting your daughter’s lover, and especially seeing them faceplant within 10 minutes of meeting you, and showing off her butt to everyone in the room? Emily chose not to speak on that part. She could only be thankful that Joyce wasn’t asking her about the bowing part. Maybe if her face burned enough she’d burn into ash? At least then she could be swept away... “Do you think you wanna crash in my room while I show them around? Maybe take a breather?” Obviously the respectful answer was ‘no,’ but she hated that her body was being much more honest; desperation at the mere sound of her suggestion. Her heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest, and she was one blunder away from committing total social suicide. “But I don’t...” “Go,” Joyce warmly smiled as she turned her to her room. “I’ll just tell them you needed to do something. Cheer up, okay? Today’s supposed to be fun!” It was, but Emily seemed to really be screwing that part up. She tried to calm herself, but an overwhelming sense of relief washed over her the more distance there was between the guest room and herself. The silence in Joyce’s room was beyond divine as she slowly closed the door behind her. Crawling onto the bed, she sat against the headboard, pulling her legs close. Why did she have to be like this? She had no issue with meeting strangers, but Joyce’s parents were obviously an exception. The added title intensified the gravity to it all, making it that much more detrimental. Thing would be so much worse if Emily were to somehow mess up, which she did. Because there was pressure, so was there the worry of failure, making her that much more prone to suffer from so. So why couldn’t she just see them as normal people? Why? She rested her head on a pillow, trying to collect herself. Meanwhile, Joyce made small talk with her parents as they unpacked. “Wait, where did Emm-ily go?” Mary was the first to ask as she carried a bundle to the dresser. “You really need to stop doing that.” “Like I said, it’s a habit!” Mary defensively spoke, as Joyce watched her dad sort a pile of shirts. “She, uhm, needed to call her parents. She didn’t talk to them yesterday.” “What difference would today or yesterday make? Not that it really matters,” Mary once more carried the conversation, as Frank seemed content to carry on with himself for the time being. “Oh, I mean, yesterday we celebrated her birthday.” And now that she thought about it, why didn’t Emily talk to her parents last night? “You did what?” There was a sense of graveness in her mother’s voice, enough to make Joyce feel a little awkward. “You mean to tell me that yesterday was her birthday?” “...Yes?” “Frank!” Mary turned her complaints to her innocent husband, who looked just as surprised as Joyce to be dragged into the conversation. “I told you we should have come sooner!” “Mom,” Joyce was the first to defend her dad. “Even if you wanted to, I don’t even think that would’ve been possible. And besides, you didn’t even know it was her birthday!” “Clearly it must have been intuition,” Mary sufficed, checking a few more drawers. “And don’t think just because it’s the next day that we aren’t gonna do something for her,” she warned. Just before Joyce could shut down that idea immediately, a voice cut her off. “Is she doing alright, by the way?” Frank finally spoke, and then the unspoken mood was brought into the open. Her dad seemed himself, but her mom didn’t look as firey anymore. She always got like that when someone’s feelings were involved. “She’ll be fine,” Joyce tried to give her best fake smile. She knew she would, but that didn’t change how she felt right now. Unfortunately, only time seemed to be the most effective solution here. She’d simply have to learn that her parents were just like anyone else… “But I mean, I can’t imagine I’d be feeling too great right now either if I were her.” “She meant well though...” Mary added. “She did, and I told her that you guys were going to love her.” “Of course!” her mom nearly shouted, looking almost offended as if that weren’t a given. “It’s only been a little bit, but she’s adorable!” “She seems nice,” Frank added. “I can’t say your mom has told me too much about her though.” Joyce was going to curb the cutesy descriptions her mom kept using, but was caught by the tide of a shifting conversation. “Really? You never told dad anything?” “I told him her name…and how she likes sleeping?” “Oh my god. You told him nothing,” Joyce was one second away from laughing, and her mom was trying to keep herself composed. Frank looked amused, but saved her wife from total embarrassment. “Well, I think I’ll be able to get to know her a lot better than what a middle man could tell me. You included, hon,” he pat his wife on the shoulder. “Right, I think so too,” making good use of her fallback, Mary seemed confident once again. “By the time we go out for brunch I think we’ll all be ready for a fresh start.” “Brunch?” Joyce asked. “What? Did you really think airplane food was going to tide us over?” Mary looked a little surprised by her daughter’s confusion, and Frank didn’t seem to be disagreeing with his wife’s sentiment either. “You know the airplanes don’t exactly give gourmet food...” Frank added, obviously qualified to make such a statement. “No,” Joyce sighed. “They don’t.” “It’s settled then,” Mary finally set aside the last of her clothes, and Frank had finished earlier. “After we finish up here, let’s go grab a bite to eat. What are you in the mood for?” “Me?” Joyce shrugged. “I suppose I could eat anything right about now. Dad?” “Maybe breakfast more than lunch, but I’m as flexible right now as anyone else.” “So maybe breakfast? That doesn’t narrow things too much...” “How about we have Emily decide?” Mary suggested. Joyce could already imagine Emily’s distaste for the spotlight, but picking a place to eat couldn’t be too bad for her, right? “Okay. Once she wraps up with her parents on the phone we can ask her. In the meantime, I can show you guys the rest of the apartment.” With Joyce leading the line, they all crowded into the hallway. “There’s nothing too crazy here, but it’s alright.” “Honey, I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live a normal life...” Frank passively spoke as he gave the massive guest room one last glance. “You know living in a home one step away from a penthouse isn’t considered ‘not too crazy,’ right?” It’s obvious Joyce’s tastes had been ruined by a life of self-made luxury, but the warp had been so gradual, even she knew she was losing her grip on the more subtle things. And maybe even major, considering her parents didn’t find this so subtle either… “I thought about a penthouse, but that would’ve been too much for little old me,” she jokingly explained while walking down the hall. “You’ve got Emily now, though? Granted, I think this would still be more than enough...” Mary admired a painting along the brief stroll. “What does she do for work by the way?” “She could probably explain it better than I ever could, but she works in real estate.” “Oh? Is she selling actual homes? What company is it?” “Luxury Estate, and no, from how I understand it she’s working a desk job.” Her heart started to waver just thinking about the turmoil at her workplace. Hopefully it would sort itself soon… “This is the first room in the house,” Joyce fully opened the partly closed doorway. “My office.” “Two monitors?” “One for business and the other for whatever,” Joyce took a moment to fix the blinds. “I like to keep the lives separate, you know?” “Couldn’t tell ya,” Frank chuckled, “haven’t worked in years!” Her dad’s simple humor had her laughing again, while her mom admired the decor, and wondered whether it was the 100th or 101st time he’d used that joke before. Such are the woes of a lengthy and healthy marriage… “You definitely get your sense of humor from your dad.” “Oh? And is that a bad thing?” She corralled them out of the room and onto the next. “Yeah, what’s so bad about my jokes? You love hearing them!” “There’s a difference between funny and living with a record stuck on repeat,” she playfully jabbed. “Well get used to it, I’m sure we’ve got at least another good 10 years together!” “Keep that up and I’ll make it 5.” “Mom, dad?” Joyce looked at the two, clearly uncomfortable over the topic of inevitable demise. “Would you mind sounding a little more cheerful?” Her dad sighed, looking to his wife. “Young people, am I right?” Her mom mimicked his same reaction. “Something they’ll never understand...” “Well, not never.” “True.” “Stop, stop, stop!” Both parents shared a chuckle while the troubled Joyce opened up the bathroom, revealing it and all its shiny, tiled splendor to the pair. Still annoyed by the recent discussion, Joyce’s sour mood overlooked the genuine beauty of her most prized room. “This is the bathroom… Feel free to use it as you please.” “Wow,” and there would definitely be many more ‘wows’ to come, yet Frank went on, “Joyce, I know you keep downplaying this all, but you really can’t think this is something spectacular, can you?” “You remember my last apartment, right?” Joyce shrugged. “It can’t be too different from this one.” “I’d disagree,” her mom took a moment to observe the ceiling showerhead panel. “This one has to be at least twice as big! I bet you two like to spend some time in here, huh?” “Mom! Would you mind being a little more discrete?” She could already imagine Emily being petrified if she were to hear this kind of stuff. She was thankful Emily listened to her request to go and cool down, but now she was really glad she did. “Still, I don’t suppose we could come up with a few excuses to use this twice a day?” Especially for Joyce’s mom, she looked to be in a wonderland right about now. “I know our master bathroom back in California is nice, but this is… And look! You have so many shelves!” Fussing over the simple, yet elegant things, she admired the endless stock of towels and amenities. “I was almost afraid your mirror wouldn’t be tall enough for me!” Frank with his booming voice joked as the mirror in front of the sink stretched from the bottom well-near to the ceiling. A long strip of light hidden by the wooden trim along the cabinets shined over the mirror’s indent. “Well I knew I’d need to account for your height when I was house shopping,” Joyce explained in a serious tone. “I swear dad, sometimes I feel like you’ve grown an inch or two every now and then.” She briefly remembered seeing his comparison to Emily. Honestly she did look a little younger than her actual age standing next to him… The more she thought about it, making a judgement when comparing polar opposites didn’t seem too accurate… Emily was already a little small compared to Joyce. She could only imagine how much of a titan her dad was to her. “Let me know when the tour is done so I can move my bags in here for the rest of our stay,” her mom almost sounded disappointed as they left probably her personal highlight of the entire venture. “How about that room there?” Frank pointed to the one that Joyce intentionally skipped. The one locked for obvious reasons. Reasons only obvious to she and Emily, of course. “Oh, don’t mind that one,” Joyce played it off casually. “Just a room I use for storage.” “And what would you have for storage?” her mom asked, sending a small chill up Joyce’s spine. “I mean, what with all this space you have everywhere else in the house, might as well free up another room if it means a little more housekeeping.” She nearly let out a breath of relief. “Quite the opposite. If for the price of one room means I can keep everywhere else spotless? That’s a fair deal to me. I know you guys got to see a glimpse of it, but just to say we did go through it, here’s the living room.” “Now here’s where she takes after you, hon,” Frank nudged Mary. “I think I’d probably never get up again if I slept on that thing.” “Big, soft cushions are the best, obviously.” Mary pressed her hand into the abundant cloud confined to a case with immeasurable satisfaction. “I always love visiting you, Joyce! It’s always fun to see how you’ve outdone yourself! Oh, wait! And who’s this little cutie pie?” Joyce looked over to the item in question, and suddenly grew wide-eyed at what it was. How? After everything they’d done; combing the entire place with a fine-toothed comb, counting every grain in the Sahara, and accounting for every speck of matter?! She tried her best to stay strong as she watched her mom fawn over another squishy friend. The third member of the family. Pip. “What’s this fella supposed to be?” She looked as happy as the smile on its ovular body, giving it a few squeezes. “I didn’t know you liked stuffed animals?” “It’s not mine, it’s-” Her speech froze when she realized just how big of a mistake she’d made. Instead of thinking about Emily’s sake, she considered her own first, not even considering whether or not she’d throw her beloved under the bus. What the hell was she thinking?! “N-no, I mean, it is mine. I thought it looked cute, so I...bought it.” Yeah, real convincing. Her mom seemed no less happy, but looked a little hurt. “Honey, you know you don’t have to keep secrets around us, right? “What?” She really didn’t know what, or at least she wanted to pretend not to. “What do you mean?” “I think it’s adorable Emily has a stuffed animal!” She gave Pip another hug. “I bet she looks darling with it!” “No, but it’s not...” Joyce tried to explain, but her words were failing her because deep down she knew they wouldn’t work. The only thing she could take solace in was how it wasn’t a total reveal of the truth. Still, she was supposed to be protecting Emily! Not painting an image of her she didn’t want to show! “Just...just don’t say anything about it?” She looked to be a meager request away from full-on begging. “Please? She’s sensitive about that stuff...” Maybe it was worth confiding in her mom at least a little. “I meant to hide that before you guys got here...” She’d need to give Pip a stern talking to later tonight… “Joyce, there’s nothing wrong if she has something like this. This is your home. Even if I did care, which I don’t,” she looked fondly on the lifeless smile. “Who are we to judge? And don’t worry, I promise not to say anything.” She set Pip back down where she found him, looking back over. “Wait, where’s your dad?” Thankfully Joyce didn’t feel the need to say anymore, as she spun her head around, looking for the mysteriously vanished giant. It only took her a moment to chuckle as she knew exactly where he was. “I think he’s in the last room I planned to show. The pièce de résistance, or his personal one, at least.” “The kitchen?” “Did you even have to ask?” They walked in to find him exactly where they expected him to be: in the kitchen observing all the spices, appliances, utensils, fridge space, ingredients, and even the countertops. Currently he was fixed on the sink. He could already tell they were behind him though, when he already started his questions. “Joyce! How were you able to find a sink this wide?” Indeed, it went beyond the standard, being nearly as wide as a restaurant grade one, but with the depth of a homeowner’s one. “That one had to be custom made.” She could still remember having the space measured for a cut. “But after working under you and at the restaurant, there’s no way I was gonna go back to a regular kitchen sink!” Before Emily, she didn’t even cook too often, but that still didn’t mean she didn’t have certain wants in a kitchen. “Good on ya, too.” He looked to Mary with a serious look, pointing to the sink. “This, hon, is how we know our daughter’s made it.” Mary rolled her eyes. “Typical chef.” “I don’t suppose your guy can do a job across the country?” “I can find out?” “Haven’t we remodeled the kitchen enough?” Clearly her mom didn’t share the same enthusiasm. In the end though what happened didn’t totally affect her, considering the kitchen back home was practically her husband’s 3rd child. Suddenly the shoe was on the other foot, when Joyce leaned into her father. “Non-chefs, am I right?” “Some things they’ll never understand...” “Anyways,” Mary curtly interjected, “I’m sure you two are happy to be in the same kitchen again?” “Naturally. Just because she flew the coop doesn’t mean I taught her all my tricks,” he pat Joyce on the head. “Well I’ll have you know I’ve been managing just fine.” She smugly took a moment to admire her small paradise. “Just because you’re not a master doesn’t mean you’re not good, and the best feeling is when you have someone to cook for,” he warmly added, striking an obvious chord with Joyce. Helplessly smiling, Joyce agreed, not noticing her mom’s happy look from the kitchen table. “I’d really like to see the ins and outs of this spot of the house, but something tells me your mom isn’t going to wait that long...” “You’d be correct.” “I’ll go and see if Emily’s finished up yet,” Joyce excused herself, stopping along the way to pick up Pip. “Maybe you’re the reason why she was such a troublemaker last night...” she tutted in a lowered voice, walking up to her door. She lightly knocked. “Emily? You in there? It’s Joyce.” “Mhm. You can come in.” She opened the door, looking relieved to see Emily was still in one piece, though obviously snuggled up on her bed. It hurt beyond words to see her so distraught, but clearly the distance and isolation had done her some good. Though, she suddenly looked stricken with a new wave of fear once she saw Pip. “W-wait, what was he doing out there?” She looked to Pip, and back to Joyce. “They didn’t find out, did they?” Whatever time she spent calming the flames inside of her, they seemed to be roaring just as much again, if not worse. “No, no, no, I promise they didn’t.” God, even lying felt worse. “But something tells me even if they did, my mom probably wouldn’t be as negative as you think...” Emily didn’t seem any more at ease. “I managed to find this little sucker before they could. Think we can keep him safe here?” She handed him over to Emily, who nearly gave it a squeeze of her own before setting it down. “Did they ask where I was?” “They did, but I told them you needed to call your parents because of yesterday.” “What? What happened yesterday?” How could Joyce be writing her a story without her even knowing it? “Your birthday?” “Oh.” Clearly one she already forgot. “They were talking about going out to eat right now.” She gave Emily’s hand a squeeze. “Feeling up to it?” Some distance did wonders for her nerves, but she knew she couldn’t run forever. After all, she at least seemed to have a slightly positive moment with Joyce’s dad, even if it was at the expense of Joyce’s feud with her mom… She nodded her head. “Perfect. Wanna head back out with me?” “Sure.” Sliding off the bed, Emily followed Joyce to the exit, then quickly stopped herself. “What’s wrong?” Joyce watched as Emily fished through the drawers, finding exactly what she was looking for. Sliding a pair of denim shorts up and underneath her dress, she lifted the front slightly to ensure the button and zipper were in place. “Something I should have done this morning...” She finished her work, and the dress came back down, giving no indication that her clothing had changed. “How do I look?” “Like your adorable self.” “I don’t wanna be adorable, though...” “Then you’re my beautiful baby?” “Joyce!” Emily spoke with a sense of urgency, suddenly wondering just how close her parents were. She held up her hands, showing off their emptiness. “Sorry, but it’s one or the other!” Emily was the first to take the lead, and Joyce amusedly watched her walk down the hall, happy to see she was back out of her shell. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you guys the whole time,” Emily apologized as she found them in the kitchen. “I had to speak with my parents.” “No problem, we only cried for the first few minutes,” Frank smiled, and Mary then stared daggers at him. “Hon, I’m sure she knows what a joke is.” “Didn’t Joyce just get finished...” her disapproving voice trailed as Emily’s slow but growing laugh filled the room. A pleasant warmth was finally introduced into the atmosphere; one that only knew how be itself around Joyce. “So Joyce told me we’re going out to eat?” “I think I can speak for the both of us when I say we’re starved. Airplanes know how to keep their customers alive just long enough so that they die of starvation only after they unboard.” “Honestly,” Mary agreed. “Eight hours and we only get a small meal, tiny breakfast and a pack of peanuts? Half the bill came from Frank’s list of drinks!” “Then tell them to get bigger cups!” Emily kept laughing, and was briefly surprised by the touch of Joyce behind her, but was no less cheerful. “Only thing is we’re not locals around here, Em,” Frank said. “Think you know of a place where we can get a bite?” With all eyes on her, she became slightly meek again. “Uhm, well, what were you in the mood for?” Frank looked to Mary, then Joyce. “I think breakfast is the better option,” he concluded after taking a visual survey. “Sound good to you?” “Yeah, of course!” Emily felt herself rushing along her words, but tried not to be too critical of herself. That’s how her bottom fell under the spotlight, after all. “Then what’re we waiting for? All this talk about food’s really gonna be the end of me if we don’t get something soon,” standing up from her chair, Mary was already moving to the exit. “I’d bring a jacket, by the way!” Joyce called after her. “The restaurants aren’t always temperature friendly!” “Frank? Would you mind?” Mary called back. “Do you want the purple, black, or red one?” He was already moving from his spot. “What do you mean? I only brought the red one?” “Whatever you say!” On his way out, he silently turned to Emily and Joyce, mouthing a ‘no’ with his lips, and holding up three fingers. He seemed a bit more perky once Emily was once again a sucker for simple humor. An arm around Emily’s shoulder gave her arm a brief rub. Emily watched as Frank disappeared around the corner. “I better go get my jacket too… Which one do you want? Emily waited for an answer. “Doesn’t matter, really. Just grab one you think that’ll make me look pretty?” “So any of them?” “I knew we started dating for a reason!” A grin lasted Emily the whole way to Joyce’s room--their room, actually, and she sifted through Joyce’s massive, yet fully stocked closet for something suitable. She already had a black one for herself, and figured that’d be the best for Joyce as well. What didn’t work with black? Last time she checked her phone though, today was supposed to be nice and sunny, so hopefully the restaurant didn’t try to counter the weather too harshly… “Thank you very much, my sweet!” Joyce took her jacket from Emily, as well as hers too. “I can carry my own jacket?” She was suddenly a little nervous with Joyce’s mom nearby. She didn’t want to make a scene… “Oh? Are you sure? I figured it’d be easier if I just took both of them.” “Uhm, alright then.” Emily didn’t want to poke the bear too much, and resigned herself to putting on her shoes. Though, she silently reacted to a new pair that were suddenly sitting for her. Instead of the Converse she’d gotten used to for casual wear, a pair of strap sandals were waiting for her. They oddly looked like they would complement her current wear… How far did this woman plan ahead? Joyce was always about gambles, and sometimes Emily found it strange how she always managed to win. Then again, she was the House. She would never admit it out loud, but it truly did make Emily a little happier to have the extra inch to her stature, but then she unfortunately remembered that so did everyone else not walking barefoot, negating any sort of advantage she thought she had to begin with. The two other females had a purse slung over their shoulder, and Frank likely had everything he’d ever need in his two pockets. There wasn’t much trouble fitting everyone into the elevator as they moved down to the sublevel garage. “So are you still driving the Cadillac?” “Why would I stop?” “Fair point. But I figured you might upgrade at some point.” “I’m not too big on cars, I guess. If it looks nice and feels nice, I really can’t complain.” Mary turned next to Emily. “Really, I can’t understand how she does it.” “Isn’t she your daughter, though?” Emily smirked. “Very true, but sometimes I feel the same about my husband and her brother! Regardless, if it weren’t for the parking garage here, having a vehicle here must cost a small fortune.” “I’ll say. Back where I was before having a vehicle was too difficult to manage, and given that it’s relatively easy to move around I don’t worry about it so much.” Everything seemed to be all well and good until the last part. “Joyce, you make sure she gets around safely, right?” “Yes, I make sure it’s all taken care of.” “W-well, I mean,” Emily slightly stammered, a little surprised that her personal safety fell into question. “I’m not exactly new to the city life? I can get around pretty easily?” Was her independence really being questioned? “The city’s a big place, that’s all,” Mary explained. “And well...” As she looked to Emily, it was clear she was trying to be delicate with her answer. Parent or not, Emily had enough foresight to tell what she was getting at, and she didn’t like it. Maybe on some level because she was a girl, Emily understood, but so was Joyce. Therefore, it was clearly her size that made her vulnerable… She tried not to seem too embarrassed. Thankfully Frank jumped in to diffuse the potential tension and embarrassment. “Still, it really is great having some personal transportation around here. I know I’d be thankful to have a car. That must be a nice perk, right?” He looked to Emily. She supposed that she should be thankful for his kind gesture. “Mmm. I think you’re right.” “Though, you always start to doze off during car rides...” Joyce quietly added from behind. “What? Do not!” “Whatever you say~” As if she needed to clear up the misunderstanding, Emily looking to each parent tried to disprove what was likely fact. “I swear, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Your daughter gets these crazy ideas sometimes!” Everyone in the moving box started to laugh over Emily’s panicked retreat, and somehow she felt as if the crowd swayed in the exact opposite direction she wanted. There wasn’t any time left to fix things though, as a mild ‘ding’ announced the parting of the doors. The walk to her car was brief, and the slight beep and flash from the tail lights identified the magnificent car as her own. “Okay, who’s sitting where?” “How about you and dad in the front, and me and Emily in the back?” Mary suggested. “If we’re being honest here, I think your dad and Emily make a good combo in terms of sharing leg space.” Another jab to Emily’s pride, and yet again another hard truth. She really didn’t need all that much leg room… There wasn’t much negotiation before they crowded into the vehicle. Joyce was in the driver’s seat, and beside her was Frank. Emily sat behind him, and Mary behind Joyce. “Seatbelts on, everyone?” Joyce asked while checking her rearview. “So where are we really going, though?” Emily asked. She knew she was told to pick a place, but it seemed like Joyce already had a destination in mind. Joyce spoke as she pulled out of the space. “Dawn’s Diner I heard is pretty good. I’ve only stopped by for coffee every once in a while, though.” “Nothing like a new restaurant for an adventure,” Joyce’s dad chuckled. “Actually, Frank and Mary,” it felt a little weird using their names for the first time, “Aren’t you two tired at all?” Mary briefly looked to Frank as if to get a mutual read. “I think we both got a good amount of sleep on the plane. Trust me, if we’re ready to turn in early, we’re gonna do so. But at least for today we wanted to maybe overexert ourselves just a little so we can all spend a full day together.” “Really? I mean, I’m sure Joyce wouldn’t mind either if you wanted to sleep?” Joyce smiled, knowing full-well how her mother would answer. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but we’d much rather spend the day with you guys. I’ve been waiting a while to meet you, you know?” Her sudden forwardness had Emily a little skittish. “Trying to get rid of us so soon?” “No! I didn’t mean it like that,” Emily tried her best to explain, completely oblivious to the joke. “I’m only teasing. If we can go to bed at our usual time, then our sleep schedules should be safe. And also, I love your outfit by the way!” A tinge of fawning could be heard in her voice as Emily suddenly went back to her self-conscious mood. Still, she could probably consider herself lucky that she wasn’t called ‘cute’ for once, even if Mary probably was thinking it. “So you said you haven’t been here your whole life?” Mary was the first to make small talk. “No, I’ve been in Washington for most of it. Portland.” “You never told me Portland before?” At the set of lights Joyce had a chance to turn her head back. “Well I mean, it was only in the suburbs, so I guess there isn’t much to talk about?” “What do you mean by most?” Frank kept the ball rolling. “Was there a third place?” “Uh, I guess you could say so? Really early on I was in Japan. I was born there.” “So you were born there? What’s it like there?” “I was really young, so I don’t remember a lot...” Emily tried to blow some dust off her oldest memories. “It was really crowded when we went to the city, I think. It was also cleaner, too?” That last part was sort of a speculation. She just didn’t remember a lot of pollution in the past. That, and going off of what her relatives told her. “So do you think you prefer it here than in Washington?” A brief moment went by. “Ah! Wait, that’s excluding Joyce though,” Mary stretched out an arm as if to block the visual from reaching her thoughts. Helpless, Emily smiled as she tried to consider all the other benefits. “I mean, from the start distance was a huge thing for me… I haven’t been on my own out here for too long.” And here we are, being taken care of again. “But, as for New York, I really like all the different things going on, I guess. There’s a constant variety of stuff to lose yourself in and lots of people to meet. Also, it’s not the suburbs.” “I think that’s a good way to put it,” Joyce chimed in. “What about you guys? Have you always lived in California?” “Just about. My husband and I were both born and raised there. Nothing too special about it!” “That’s not true. I think you’ve just gotten used to living there?” “Maybe you’re onto something?” Frank added, causing a small wave of random laughter. “How about your parents? Are they still in Portland?” “Yeah, last time I checked,” her voice came of a little plainly. “My dad used to be in the service, and my mom runs a salon.” “Oooh,” Mary continued on with her fascination. Joyce was curious to listen too. “Do you have any siblings?” “Nope. Just an only child. I think the closest I ever got was with a few cousins,” she laughed it off, hoping she didn’t sound like she was fishing for sympathy. “Well...” Mary silently looked to the person sitting in front of her, and Joyce could practically feel her stare. “Believe me when I say that having two kids isn’t all sunshine and roses. Remember when you and John used to fight all the time?” The last bit she steered towards Joyce. “Kind of, I guess,” Joyce didn’t think too fondly of looking back on the worst childhood memories. “We had our good moments, though.” “Few and far between,” her dad chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Joyce sounded to be a mix of genuine offense and tease. “You two were like cats and dogs!” Mary finished for her husband. “I remember you two were fighting over something, and one of your dolls wound up cracking our tv screen!” Frank sighed over the painful reminiscence. “That wasn’t a fun day...” “No, it wasn’t,” Joyce agreed, already feeling the jagged memories cloud her mind. “Besides, he’s the one who threw a ball at me!” Joyce already started to ramble off, as if the altercation was just as fresh in everyone else’s minds as it was in hers. “Whatever did happen,” Mary quickly dismissed Joyce’s unfinished business, “You two definitely mellowed out when you both got older.” “Yeah, because we could learn to live with each other without needing to break something in the process...” “Fair point, but you guys did have your good moments.” “Plenty of ups and downs.” It felt a little weird to ask, considering it might be considered disrespectful to John, but Emily asked anyways. “Joyce, did you ever wish you could be an only child?” Everyone was quiet. Did she mess up? God! Why did she have to ask something so weird? Though, it turns out it was all in her head, because Joyce simply needed a moment to answer. “There were definitely days where I could probably kill my little brother,” already a few days popped into her mind. “And a few days where he’d probably do the same to me. But no, I’ll always love my brother, and now that we’re adults I can actually stand being around him!” How she spoke on the last bit with enthusiasm had everyone chuckling. “I kinda wish I knew what it was like...” Emily had an idea, going off of the cousins bit, but never had she ever spent a greater deal of her life, 24/7 under a roof with someone other than her two parents. “Hang on now,” Joyce playfully warned. “I said it was nice, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t its bad parts either. Definitely a tradeoff. There’s stuff I envy about growing up as an only child too.” “What do you mean?” Mary asked. “We gave both of you plenty of attention!” “You did, but of course it felt like you guys were taking sides at times.” “We were perfectly fair!” “So not true,” Joyce seemed to be headstrong. “You always took John’s side because he was younger! Admit it!” “Maybe because he was a little younger, he got a bit more leeway, but that doesn’t mean I believed you any less!” “Okay,” Joyce answered, still unconvinced. “But I mean, that’s not a totally bad thing. I was Dad’s favorite after all!” “Ah, well,” Frank in a dumbstruck stupor tried to interject, but it was obvious he couldn’t get his bearings. “I loved you both just the same!” “I don’t disagree with that,” Joyce said plainly, then had a mischievous smirk on her face. “But I was your favorite.” “Hon, you always did have a soft spot for Joyce...” “Well, maybe a little, but that’s only because you had one for John,” Frank said, quickly turning the tables. “Oh don’t you start getting on my case now, too! Can you believe this man?” Mary turned over to Emily, who was trying not to laugh at their mini argument. “Relax, relax!” Joyce commanded, halting the verbal tensions if for only a moment. “We all have favorites, but we all know that we love each other equally. I shouldn’t have even kept the ball rolling to begin with. Can we talk about something else?” Silence lingered, only until Emily spoke up. “So what does John do?” “John is an electrician. He’s been working for a few years at his current company right now.” “Where does he live?” “California. Same as us.” “Nearby?” “Maybe an hour long drive to get to him, but definitely manageable. Why?” Mary started to look enthusiastic. “Think you might be down for the next visit?” “Uhm...well...” Unsure of how to respond, Emily clearly started to lose her voice. Before Joyce could reel her mom back in, thankfully she kept herself in check. “Don’t worry about it, I know you two are still breaking each other in. Make sure the relationship works out before all the other stuff surrounding it.” Though, her face didn’t really seem to have any doubts about their future, and Emily couldn’t see much either… “Okay kids, we’ve arrived!” Joyce announced as they pulled into a small lot. “Thank goodness. I almost thought I’d have to eat Emily if I got too peckish back here!” Emily blushed a little as she looked out the window, rather than the doting mother. “Thanks for putting up with me back there,” Frank said to Emily as he undid his seatbelt. “I know it isn’t a lot of legroom with me involved.” “No! It’s fine, really,” Emily assured, as well as note that Mary’s thought process did work out pretty well. Frank then in a hushed voice, but still clearly audible to everyone else, “And also, thanks for putting up with my wife back there, too!” “Keep this up and you’re sleeping on the couch.” “Did you feel how soft that thing was?” Mary tried to seem stern, but they both started laughing. “Come on, chop, chop,” Joyce clapped her hands. “We’re burning daylight here!” In a few moments everyone was out of the car and walking to the diner’s entrance. The exterior looked like one of those old fashioned ones; single-story with a curved roof colored in a deep blue. The restaurant’s sign was done in neon and had a classic font to it. As soon as they stepped inside the distinct smells and flavors of any breakfast in existence wafted through their nostrils. Coffee and bacon grease were what they could smell first, and the endless clinks of silverware against plates filled the diner. Behind the receptionist there was a classic looking countertop surrounding the centerpiece of the restaurant, which was the kitchen. Stools with bright red cushions protruding from them surrounded it, as a handful of people occupied its seats, and a good deal of people at the tables and booths. “Hi, how can I help you?” The receptionist behind her wooden stand was already waiting for them. “Hi,” Joyce started. “Could we get a booth for four of us?” She took a moment to press a few things in her console. “Sure thing!” She leaned her head to scan the party of four briefly. Grabbing a few menus and bundles of eatery, she escorted them down the aisle. Emily always hated this part. In especially a busy restaurant, the walk to your seat was always the worst. Filled with temptations and alluring sights and smells, it was a stroll that tortured your tastebuds with the things you did not have and would need to wait until the ends of time for. One couple had their coffee, eggs, bacon and toast. Another was eating grits and scrambled eggs. Hash browns! Syrup! Jam! Bagels! Emily had half a mind to plug her nose because she was near-mouth-watering at that point. She wanted to eat badly. Clearly she’d forgotten how hungry she was, because only when she saw what she didn’t have was when she really wanted it the most. Their destination was a sizeable booth, and before anything could be done on Mary’s part, both Joyce and Frank had the unspoken understanding of what needed to be done. “Emily why don’t you slide in first? I’ll be right next to you.” “Hon, I’ll hop in first if you don’t mind.” Frank was already sliding in. The way they were arranged had Emily in the deep part of the booth, with Joyce right next to her, and across from Emily was Frank. That meant diagonal to her was Mary. “Alright, here you guys go...” The woman started passing out menus and bundles of forks and knives. “And whoops! Almost forgot,” she chuckled apologetically, then reaching into a pocket on her front apron, she placed a small box close to Emily. “Someone will be over soon to take your order for drinks. Enjoy!” She walked away, while everyone quickly figured out what was given to Emily. “You have to be kidding me.” Emily by no means looked amused. “Well,” Joyce sounded sympathetic. “Maybe it’s because you looked shorter compared to us three?” “That doesn’t make me feel any better!” Emily complained, annoyed not at Joyce, but the situation. She held up the box for a brief second, then dropped it from the few inches it was suspended from the table. “Crayons? Really? Did I look that much like a kid to them?” This had never happened to her before! What could have swayed that woman’s mind? Was it her clothes? Did she look small compared to Joyce, Frank, and Mary? Why even bother asking? She knew it was true… She looked down at her yellow sundress, finding one more reason to hate it now. “Can we send these back, please?” Emily gestured to the crayons. “We can, but I mean there’s no harm in keeping them around?” Joyce said, trying not to make it seem like a big deal. Emily trying to cheer herself up went back to the menu, only to be equally as disappointed. “Joyce...” Emily nudged over to her. “What’s up?” She looked over from her much more adult menu. “They gave me a kids menu...” Emily looked clearly annoyed, and Joyce tried not to see the humorous irony in it all. Of course she would never tease Emily to a point where she hurt her feelings, but that’s why this was somewhat funny. Still, it probably didn’t feel too amazing on Emily’s part. It was pretty clear by this point what that woman thought about Emily’s age from a simple glance. “Wanna look at my menu?” “I kinda want my own.” “I’m sure they won’t mind if we ask for another?” Mary spoke up, quickly reminding Emily of who else was watching. Sympathetic to her plights, but also wanting to give her some immediate relief, Joyce leaned a little closer as they both looked through her menu. “What looks good?” Emily asked, still needing to catch up on the more adult selection. “Simple stuff, I guess. Other things sound pretty interesting too. Sometimes I wish they’d give these menus displays like they do for the kids menu.” Whether she agreed or not, Emily didn’t want a reminder of the waitress’ blunder, and kept looking on with Joyce. She felt guilty almost, but the pancakes still sounded just as delicious as they were yesterday morning. “Huh, they’ve got a few breakfast sandwiches that look good,” Frank mused. “Any sandwich in particular?” Mary looked over. “I imagine they’re all pretty good. Though, knowing you, you’d probably just put ketchup on it?” “And what’s wrong with ketchup?” “Nothing at all, but you’re ruining the originality of a meal if you always add your comfort sauce to it.” “I swear,” Mary caught Emily’s attention by chance. “He won’t let me live it down if I so much as put a speck of extra salt on the food that he makes.” “I’m not that bad,” Frank turned to the smirking Emily as well, also using her as the middleman. “When I cook Emily, you can put on as much salt as you like, and pepper!” He looked back to Mary smugly. “What am I going to do with you?” The laughter came and went as everyone tried to compose themselves when the dedicated waitress came over. “Hi, how’s everyone doing today? My name’s Abigail and I’ll be your server.” “Fine, thank you very much!” Frank answered, still high on the bubbly atmosphere. “What can we do for ya?” “Frank!” In a hushed voice, Mary nudged his shoulder. “Quit teasing her!” She turned over to the slightly confused, but also smirking waitress. “Don’t mind him. He can tend to be like this...” “Well, I’ll try my best,” she laughed, then pulled out a small notepad and paper. “Do you guys want to start off with some drinks?” “I’d love some coffee, please, but,” Frank paused for dramatic effect. “Is the pot fresh?” “I can brew a new one just for you?” He leaned in close to the table. “I like this one, she’s a 20-percenter.” Mary looked like she wanted to wallop him upside the head. From Emily’s angle, she could see she was holding the menu slightly above her mouth, which was currently smiling just as much as her dad’s. Emily always forgot to remind herself, but it really was like night and day with Joyce. She only had the beginning to compare to, but only when she was around familiar people (Emily included) could she really let herself go. Otherwise it was her tense, cool, and collected business self. “Alright, coffee it is. How would you like it done?” “Some milk and two sugars, please.” She scribbled one last note. “And you, miss?” She was looking at Mary, who obviously was flattered by the comment. Then she whispered to Frank. “Miss? Clearly she’s trying to get on our good side… I’ll have a coffee too, please.” She explained how she wanted it. The waitress turned over to Joyce. “Three for three, I guess. Coffee as well, please? I’ll just take mine black.” Her kind of order was probably a waiter’s godsend, considering it required no bells or whistles, and just pouring a substance into a cup. “And last up is you, little miss!” Chipperly, she looked to Emily, who was trying not to blush. She thinks I’m a kid too? Emily looked to the kids menu and the box of crayons, suddenly realizing how they forced the narrative too. She wanted to die on the inside, especially because there were three other people watching this all unfold. “Oh, uhm, that reminds me,” Joyce interjected. “Could we get her an adult menu, please?” “Sure, that shouldn’t be an issue.” Her simple response wasn’t what Emily was looking for. She didn’t seem surprised, shocked, or guilty. It wasn’t to her an adult being mistaken as a kid, but a parent trying to get their little one an adult menu they would have never gotten otherwise. The kind of expression she gave as she shifted back from Joyce to Emily soured the mood for her even more. She really was being looked down on. Though, hopefully her choice in drink would change the waitress’ mind, or force her head out of the gutter. This would not go on for any longer, and it was about time Emily start steering the ship. “I’ll have a coffee too, please.” Emily nearly made a noise when she saw the waitress pause for the slightest moment, and silently look to Joyce with a tinge of uncertainty. Did she really? Did she really just defer to Joyce as the decision maker?! On the more private days of the week, sure, Joyce was her… Mommy, but this wasn’t one of those times! She’s an adult goddammit! Emily didn’t know why she wasn’t starting an outburst by then, but of course she didn’t want to make a scene, even if all of this was beyond mortifying and frustrating. She didn’t think though that her stature and appearance would potentially prohibit her from caffeine! Joyce blinked awkwardly for a moment, taking a second to realize what was happening. “O...oh, you think...” her voice trailed, but then was quickly refreshed. “Uhm, yes, she can.” What was Joyce doing? This was her moment to clear up this whole misunderstanding! Her wandering eyes found Mary and Frank’s, who were either looking at the waitress or Joyce. Hell, Emily was thankful for the lack of attention, even if it were probably intentional. It was a passive comfort to know though that she could probably slip underneath the table and hide for the rest of the meal… “Hon?” The cushy names from a stranger cut through Emily’s dignity like a knife, and she looked over to her, hoping her face wasn’t too red. “How would you like it?” “Three sugars, please...” “Alrighty,” she wrote a few more notes. Joyce had her hand on Emily’s thigh, and was rubbing it soothingly beside her. And it was a good thing she was, because Emily didn’t know how she would react otherwise, especially when the waitress said her next piece, specifically to Joyce. “Do you want me to get her something to go with it? Water, milk?” Please, Joyce! Prove her wrong! Fix this stupid misunderstanding! “How about milk, then?” No, no, no, no! “Milk it is!” Happily, she finished up her writing and slipped the pen back into her apron. “The wait shouldn’t be too long, and I’ll be right back with an extra menu.” With that she walked away, and as she did, Emily stared at Joyce with quite the opposite of enthusiasm. “Why did you play along with her? She thinks I’m a kid!” “I think she acted a tad bit differently to Em, too...” Frank added. Yes! Finally! Someone that was on her side! “I know, I know, but I figured she’d be a lot more embarrassed than any one of us would be if it were in her shoes.” Really? She was more concerned about the waitress than her own girlfriend? How does that even work? “Does it not matter how I feel?” Emily asked, obviously hurt. “Of course it does,” Joyce gave her waist a squeeze, and Mary looked on sympathetically. “All I mean is, we all know it’s her mistake, which is why we all know you’re an adult. Besides, with how deep she’s into it now, I don’t think she’d ever live it down if she found out how she was treating you.” “Does that mean I can?” “It means that you have people to confide in. She doesn’t.” “Really, Em, we know it’s her mistake,” Frank added. “Joyce does have a point though. That waitress would probably not be able to handle it as well as you can right now.” So Emily was tough now because she was putting up with it? Maybe that was true in a way, but she didn’t like the idea of giving this woman a pass to walk all over her! “Don’t you think it’s sort of funny, though?” Mary spoke up, garnering the attention of the table. “She really thought Emily was younger than all of us by quite a bit. You can really pull off a look, can’t you?” She seemed impressed as she looked to Emily. Emily deeply exhaled through her nose, as popular opinion dictated the mood. No one here actually judged her for what happened, at least not negatively, and thankfully they didn’t see this in the light of Emily’s belittlement, rather the waitress’ mistake. Dearly she wanted to write this woman’s wrongs, but in a way Emily was being the bigger person by letting it slide, even if that meant being the smaller one… “And hey, you have two drinks now, right? That’s a plus?” Maybe. But it didn’t feel great as to how she got it. Apparently she was a kid that needed something to chase her caffeine. If she had it her way, this woman wouldn’t be getting as much as a cent for her tip. Yes she was bitter, and yes she was being unfair considering how much of a kid she probably did look like, but it didn’t change her feelings. Why was she getting so hung up on this? Was she supposed to be? Did it make her look bad? She didn’t know how to react, and that’s what made it so much worse. The only sense of reason she knew was reliable was to follow in Joyce’s stead. “Oh, and also, Mom, Dad? What do you two say about doing something else after this?” “I’m not sure...” Frank looked to Mary. “We’re awfully busy today...” His joking was obvious. “Emily actually came up with the idea to go to the zoo yesterday.” “Wh-huh?” The sudden credit caught her off guard. What would they think if she was the one who wanted to go to the zoo? “I mean, didn’t you say we should?” Joyce smirked at Emily. “Alright, fine, it was our idea. What do you two think?” “Sounds like fun! We haven’t been to one of those in a long time. Good idea, Emily.” Emily tried to laugh it off, wondering why she still had a kids menu. “Sorry for the wait,” Abigail, their waitress, came with a platter of four mugs and a glass. “Two with two sugars...” she placed the mugs in front of Mary and Frank. “One black,” a mug to Joyce. And of course her voice slightly changed when she was speaking to the little girl. “And finally one with three, and a glass of milk.” Thankfully she didn’t cheap out on the proportions, because they did look like normal drinks, but the accompanying milk didn’t make her feel so enthusiastic. How “lucky” was she though, getting permission from her “Mommy” to have coffee… “So is everyone almost ready to order?” While she spoke, she also placed the fourth adult menu on the table, which was thankfully given to Emily. Way to leave her room to browse… “Uhhh...” Joyce looked at Emily for a second. “I think we’re gonna need a few more minutes?” “Sure thing, take your time.” “Wait, am I the only one who still needs to pick?” “Think so, but take your time, okay? Don’t rush.” “Don’t worry Emily, we kinda got a headstart anyways,” Mary said as she set her menu down, and Frank as well. “What are you guys getting?” Joyce made smalltalk. “I’m gonna get a burger,” Frank already sounding satisfied answered. “I know we were doing breakfast, but a diner burger always sounds good to me!” “I’m getting a breakfast sandwich,” Mary said contently. “With ketchup.” It wasn’t a mystery who the emphasis was directed towards. “How about you?” “I think I’ll do some bacon, toast and eggs. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.” She leaned next to Emily. “And what are you liking so far?” She wanted to be original, but of course her head was screaming pancakes. She was such a broken record… Topped with banana and strawberry, she was feeling helplessly tempted. Did they do chocolate chips too? Emily couldn’t help but feel compelled to ask… “Hey Joyce?” “What’s up?” “Do you think they’d put chocolate chips in here?” “I don’t see why they can’t… Is your sweet tooth kicking in?” “...A little bit.” Emily almost looked sheepish. “It sounds good to me. You’ll need to give me a bite, though.” “Chocolate chip pancakes?” Frank asked. Emily was afraid how he’d react. “You can get them, but I’ll warn you,” he leaned in close. “Nothing you’ll ever eat will compare to mine!” Emily looked to Joyce for confirmation. “I can make some good pancakes, but who do you think I learned it from? Speaking of which, you’ll be cooking for us at least once, right?” “Did you really think I’d let Emily miss out on my cooking?” Her dad asked with offense. “Why do you think John and Hannah are getting married?” He laughed with his deep voice, and Emily couldn’t help but chuckle as well. “Sounds like you guys are ready to order?” Like clockwork, Abigail had made a round and came back with a notepad. Giving it a second to be refused, and when she wasn’t, she asked Mary first. “I’ll have the Bootmill Breakfast Sandwich, please.” “And what do you wanna do for a side?” “Fries, please.” “And you, sir?” “I’ll have the Monday Burger with fries, please. Just a little pink in the center.” “...Alrighty. And you miss?” “Bacon, eggs, and toast, please? I’ll have the eggs over easy.” She smiled over to Emily. Every interaction she hated her more. “And how about you, hon?” “She’ll have the short stack, please,” Joyce answered for her, and oddly enough Emily kind of appreciated it. Any moment where she didn’t have to deal with this woman was a blessing counted. Again, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with her, but they certainly did get off on the wrong foot. She was operating on adult time right now, and really did not appreciate trying to be told otherwise. “Do you think they could put chocolate chips in it, too?” “That’s no problem, but...” the waitress politely asked for the kids menu. “It sounds like you’re describing this?” She pointed out a display, and as curious as Emily was, she dared not look. “Oh? What’s the difference?” “So the Jr. Stack has all that stuff with a little extra whipped cream. They’re sized just about the same as well. I’ll just put that down for the order.” Emily must have mastered the art of meditation, or Joyce was truly a professional caretaker, because she was somehow able to keep herself together. She quietly took a sip from her heated mug. “So one Bootmill Breakfast, Monday Burger, Bacon and Eggs, and a Jr. Stack?” The order was confirmed, and she walked on off. “You’re a real trooper, Emily...” Frank reassured her as she walked away. It felt good to have allies… Emily looked to Joyce, and she could tell there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. She didn’t think of it as cruel, though. The biggest reason why this rubbed Emily the wrong way was because she was trying to present herself in front of Joyce’s parents. This was a relationship between lovers, not a mother and daughter! Joyce looked sheepishly to Emily. “I got you whipped cream?” “You’re so making this up to me.” Hey, we did it! 20 chapters! I don't know the word count right now, but I can grab it later. Sometimes I think this is moving too slow, but I'm having fun with it. I'd appreciate your 10 cents on that, though. Sorry if people felt like there wasn't so much babying-ness in this, but things should be increasing as time goes on. Hope you enjoyed reading, and please let me know what you thought!

Oh right, I did release it pretty close to easter ? Lucky coincidence I suppose? Thanks for commenting! Hmm, who knows? Maybe given how early she is into things, she might not slip so easy, but it could definitely be a concern later down the road. As for the bed, she's also covered on that front. For now...bwahahaha! There's definitely a lot of speculation, and a few ways this visit could end! Stay tuned, and thanks for commenting! Yeah, Emily's definitely had better days. I wouldn't describe Emily as naturally shy to all strangers, but probably not overwhelmingly confident either. Nevertheless, there's definitely the intimidation from trying to make a good first impression on Joyce's parents, and it's clear she's cracking from the pressure. So without a doubt though, this visit is going to be a mix of pain and pleasure. Thanks for commenting! Absolutely love to hear everyone's comments and opinions. Thanks a ton! Thanks for the comment, and hope you enjoy to read my stuff as always!

Happy to hear! Hope you enjoy the next one too! Please keep the feedback coming! 19 - One Last Gift “Why aren’t you getting ready for bed, too?” Emily always felt weird about not being dressed the same as everyone else. It felt like she was unprepared for something, and she hated the idea of being different. “Because,” Joyce patted Emily down, making sure the diaper was nice and snug under the sleeper, “I still need to clean up a bit tonight so it’s easier in the morning.” Emily wasn’t pleased with the answer, but she was focusing heavily on the soft fleece she was encased in. It was the perfect combination; a heated body from a hot bath being embraced by cool clothing into an even chillier apartment. She loved the feeling, but she still felt the desire to be dressed like Joyce. It really did drive the point home that she was a kid being sent off to bed early… “But I can help though.” Volunteering herself, and not waiting for an answer, Emily started walking to the kitchen. Of course she stopped though, as a hand had taken hold of her wrist. Sheepishly, she turned back to the tutting Joyce. “Didn’t we just get finished kissing your last boo-boo?” “...Yeah, but...” As if the answer were there, Emily’s eyes scanned the floor. “You already helped me clean up the water, and you apologized. Everything is forgiven.” “Then why do I have to go to sleep early? I wanna go to bed when you do.” “It’s not a punishment, hon, and why are you so hung up on this? It’s never stopped you from turning in early before?” As if the prophecy were inevitable, Emily would always meet her maker on the couch late at night. A princess carry to bed would ensue, then Joyce would finish up her own nightly routine. “You know what I mean.” Emily teasingly grumbled. Joyce moved closer to Emily, and with both hands grabbed the bundle of fabric attached to the sleeper behind her neck. It was drawn up and over her head, clearly a hood, only that two fluffy, triangular ears sprouted from it. Joyce’s eyes practically sparkled as she admired the sight, and even Emily’s feigned grumpiness did nothing to affect it. “So adorable...” Not really noticing the hood to begin with, Emily couldn’t feel any extra weight, but she knew something was on the hood. Aimless and without a real destination in mind, her hands traced the surface of it, then found the items which has Joyce gushing so much. “You gave me cat ears?” Emily exclaimed, blushing as she said so. “No, Amy did,” Joyce corrected, but seemed no less happy. “And she did a wonderful job!” She knew what it’d look like, but actually seeing it on Emily took it to a whole other level! The outfit sat on her body perfectly, and seeing the slight bulge from her crotch, and admiring how the fabric stretched over the diaper, the V-cut in her legs being more of a U, just to accommodate the kind of wearer that needed a little extra protection. The way it all teased the infancy trapped inside of it was nearly too much for Joyce to handle. If she had hugged Emily right then and there, she would probably suffer from sensory overload! “Well...” Emily spoke as she mindlessly bent the corners of the ears, “The stuff she’s made so far feels nice...” “Isn’t it?” Joyce enthusiastically agreed. “And they all make you look ten times more adorable!” The last comment had Emily a bit more flustered, so she tried to focus more on the craftsmanship rather than the appearance. “We’ll need to thank her properly, though.” Emily nodded her head in silent agreement. She’d never had someone go to such lengths for her, apart from Joyce, of course. That being said, Joyce need only throw money at a problem to find a solution. Well, not completely. Joyce was a hard worker of course, and everything thus far was absolute proof of that, but Amy in her own regard was fearsome as well. Everything she had done was by hand and of pure imagination. Emily’s clothes were the very essence of her thoughts. It was once more the idea of ownership by another person, and it reinforced the idea of cushiness. “And you know, I think I know a great way we can do that.” “How?” Emily was all ears to express her gratitude, considering she had four of them now. “She really wanted to see how these fit you, you know?” Emily could feel herself becoming a ghost as she pieced the lead-in to Joyce’s hint. “You mean I have to wear these in front of her?” The panic was obvious. Joyce wanted to try and calm her nerves, but she didn’t right away. “No, you don’t have to, but I think Amy would really appreciate it.” “How come, though?” The idea of revealing herself to anyone else was an immediate turnoff. She could already feel the mood turning sour. “Whenever you do something for someone else, or make something, don’t you want to know what they think?” “I...I guess.” When was the last time she made something for someone though? “Remember this morning? When you colored that picture for me?” Oh, right. Emily nodded her head, feeling no need for further explanation. Even she couldn’t deny the silly pride she felt over such a simple feat. Still, it made Joyce beyond happy, and that’s what Emily yearned for… So, maybe Amy was hoping for the same sort of thing? “But...” Even with that in mind, it still didn’t make it an easy pill to swallow. “But it’s embarrassing!” “Didn’t I already tell you there’s nothing to feel ashamed about?” She stroked Emily’s cheek. “Besides...” Joyce suddenly seemed a bit more remorseful. “She does already know about this...” Her face gave no real indication of anything, but Emily knew it was the whole dynamic she was referring to. “The last thing is for her to see it with her own eyes?” Partly, considering she already knew what the clothes looked like, and what she was supposed to account for… Joyce’s eyes observed the diaper bulge for a few moments. Emily still didn’t answer, and she really didn’t want to right now. She wanted to show Amy her appreciation, but she didn’t want to betray her own privacy either. Even a forceful push by Joyce seemed more scary than exciting right now. “All I want you to do for now is think about it, okay?” Joyce planted a kiss on her forehead. “Whatever your answer might be, we won’t mention it at least until my parents are gone.” “Mhm...” Emily spoke as her mind drifted, unfortunately back to the topic of sleep. Thankfully it was down a different avenue though. “Wait, where are your parents gonna be sleeping tomorrow?” “In the guest room,” Joyce answered simply. “Guest room? Isn’t that where I sleep?” Of course it wouldn’t happen, but Emily couldn’t help but imagine herself sharing a bed with two other people… “Sorry, they’ll need to borrow it for a couple nights?” “That’s fine. The couch is comfy anyways,” Emily chipperly giggled, secretly happy to have the massive cushions all to herself. Joyce’s chuckle though for some reason stopped Emily’s fantasies. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing. You just go with the flow, huh?” “I guess. I mean, it’s your house and your parents, after all.” “Wrong. It’s our home,” wrapping an arm around Emily’s waist, she let a small meep escape her as she was pulled close. “Besides, you’re much too precious to be using the couch.” “Huh? Where would I sleep, then?” Back in bed with the parents? Ugh? Why did she keep thinking that? She giggled to herself. Joyce raised a brow. “With me, of course?” “...Huh?” They stared at each other, equally confused as the other. Something snapped though, as Emily blushed harder and harder. “S-sleep with you? You mean in your bed?” Sharing a bed with Joyce? The more she thought about it, it made sense, but, but was she really going to? Why not skip the nerves and die from anxiety already? She hadn’t once considered the possibility of sleeping with her, but that didn’t mean it was a bad thing... “Well duh, silly.” The way she treated it so nonchalantly had Emily feeling giddy. It was yet another factor that felt seemingly out of her control, as her fate was dealt by a dealer who moved to the beat of their own drum. She was a pebble caught in the tide, hopeless to fight against it. “But I really don’t mind the couch?” “Do you not want to sleep with me?” Joyce didn’t look offended, but that didn’t make Emily worry any less. “No!” Emily suddenly blurted, nearly covering her mouth from the sheer shock over her own reaction. “N-no, I just mean, I didn’t want to impose...” Joyce’s mouth slightly trembled, then grew into a smirk as she laughed, further unsettling Emily as she embarrassed herself. “Impose? C’mere, you...” A tight squeeze refreshed the mood, and Emily felt somewhat at peace again. Smiling contently, Joyce briefly patted Emily’s bottom. “Besides, doesn’t it make sense that we would share a bed by now? We are dating, after all.” “I guess so…” It certainly felt like Joyce was milking that title for all it was worth… Not that Emily minded, yet it was a thrilling observation. The reminder of girlfriend and girlfriend though made Emily’s heart flutter as she squeezed Joyce back. “Oh! I almost forgot one last thing,” Joyce spaced themselves a little bit for a better look at each other. She slightly bent her knees to get closer to eye level. “What is it?” “Do you want milk or juice for bed?” Emily’s curious look sunk to a frown, and Joyce grinned, expecting a reaction such as that. “You know, for a little kitty that loves her naps, you really don’t like being told to go to sleep?” “Then you go to sleep, too!” It wasn’t the act of going to sleep, but the issue of being the only one doing it. “I feel like I’m missing out if I’m the only one...” “Trust me, you don’t miss much. Maybe a party, some clubbing, robbing a bank, and a few movies,” Joyce teased, “but other than that I’m not far behind you.” “Then why can’t I go to sleep when you do?” “Because it doesn’t work like that.” The answer felt awfully fitting for a mommy figure, and it annoyed Emily to no end. It was a real tradeoff to the cuddles and playing all day. It was her first time in this role being told so, but she knew for a fact she hated bedtime… “And why doesn’t it?” Emily countered, crossing her arms. “Because Mommy says so.” Almost immediately Emily’s arms slumped to her sides, clearly looking inconvenienced by the law that’d just been imposed. She saw no end in sight that involved her victory, and they were most definitely in the end game by now. Her personal reign was the setting sun, while Joyce’s powers transcended time itself, reaching to the far ends of the Earth, and as deep as its core. “It’s not fair,” Emily pouted. And to be honest, it was partly genuine. “You’re making it very hard to give you your last treat, you know?” “Is it me getting to stay up later?” “So you don’t want it?” Actions speaking louder than words, with a huff and a puff, Emily sulkily marched off to the nursery while Joyce kept down a laugh the whole way. “Come on pouty pants, milk or juice?” “I’m not pouting, though!” She probably was, but the small voice inside of her was telling her to be rebellious right now, and she liked the idea. The helpless struggle seemed entertaining for some reason. Joyce gave her the ‘Oh, really?’ kind of look. The irrational part of her was longing for Pip now. At least then it’d be two against one. “...Milk, please.” “I’ll be right back.” With bare feet on the much softer floor, Emily briefly meandered around the room until she laid eyes on the giant teddy bear. Mr. Bear, the one that failed to save her from the tickle attacks… Emily eyed him like a comrade that’d betrayed her in the war. Still, she was clearly the bigger person, willing the bury the hatchet as she came to her knees and fell on him with a soft and squishy hug. No real reason compelled her to do it, but she just felt like it. Her entire universe right now was surrounded in soft and loving things, and all she had to do was throw herself in a random direction, and comfort would follow. A pressure in her bladder became an issue though, as her eyes opened to the unpleasant feel of its knocking. Trying her best to brace herself, Mr. Bear felt the brunt of Emily’s physical frustrations as she held onto something while she squeezed it out. The small stream came, and she felt the warmth in her pants, though she wasn’t enthusiastic about it. Thankfully it wasn’t enough for her to cry over anymore, and she tried focusing on the hugs again. . .. … “Emmy? Sweetie? You awake?” With a sudden breath, Emily opened her eyes and could feel the slight nudges to her shoulder. Turning her head, she could see it was Joyce who had a bottle in hand. Did she...did she doze off? Caught red-handed doing the exact thing she said she didn’t want to do obviously made Emily angry with herself. Lazing about after a nice bath always did that to her, especially if she didn’t manage to fall asleep in the bath to begin with. With no real part of her body in mind, she muttered inside her head, traitor… Instead of teasing her for it though, Joyce smiled warmly as she helped her up. “So I see you and Mr. Bear were catching up, huh?” Interpreting it as simply lounging, Emily nodded her head. “Well, Mr. Bear seems like he’s ready for beddy-bye too.,” Joyce assuredly noted, looking over to the inanimate, giant stuffed animal. “No, he’s still wide awake, actually,” Emily randomly retorted, suddenly feeling the need to flex her imaginary doctorate in bear whispering. “Is that what he said?” As if to confirm her suspicions, Joyce leaned her ear closer to the bears nose, nodding her head occasionally. “Mhmm….uh-huh. Is that so?” With every response to the imaginary speech she nodded and murmured assurances. Joyce turned back to Emily. “Mr. Bear said that even if he is wide awake, he knows it’s important to sleep early when you have a big day tomorrow.” Emily wanted to say she misheard him, but knew what the ultimate endgame would be. Joyce was an expert at speaking stuffed bear, after all… “Mr. Bear said I shouldn’t have to go to sleep until Mommy does...” Emily mumbled as Joyce led her over to the crib. “I told you,” Joyce laughed as the repetition kept coming around and around. “I’m only going to be up a little longer! And oh, what’s that Mr. Bear?” She leaned back in for another listen. For a second Emily almost got closer to, but then she remembered distance wouldn’t help her hear something that didn’t actually speak… “Mr. Bear also said that he’s gonna make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight, and he’ll tell me all about it tomorrow.” Once a traitor, always a traitor… Sleep with one eye open, Mr. Bear. She turned back to Joyce. The crib side came down, and Emily was helped inside. Given her bottle of milk, the final nail in the coffin was when the side came back up. “Did you have a good birthday, my princess?” Gleefully, Emily nodded her head. “It’s been the best birthday in a long time,” Emily gave a genuine smile, briefly forgetting how she’d been cheated out of a later bedtime. After all, she had the one woman that made all those silly frustrations possible to begin with. “I mean it, Joyce, thank you.” Standing up so the bars wouldn’t be so much of a hurdle, the two hugged each other one last time, and then Emily planted herself on the mattress, allowing the blankets to be tucked in over her. Without a word, Joyce walked away from the crib and to the exit. Emily turned to her side, clutching the bottle. Curiously, she gave it a suck, rewarded by the monumental efforts of her jaw with a small spurt of liquid. The lights began to dim, and just before it was complete darkness, they stopped. Emily slowly breathed as she soaked in the quiet atmosphere, then was disturbed by the sound of moving in the nursery. Turning her head and rolling over, she was surprised to find Joyce was still in here. “Jo-Mommy, what are you doing?” Sliding over a rocking chair, which Emily was equally as surprised to have never noticed to begin with, Joyce sat herself beside the crib. “I promised you a treat, didn’t I? You always seem to need some convincing to go to sleep, anyways.” Emily watched through the bars as Joyce moved to the closet, walking inside and coming out with something in her hands. It was large and rectangular, and had a simple illustration on the front. Emily could just read the title, as she looked at a cartoonish fox standing on its hind legs wave to the reader with a paw. “Fennis goes to the Fair” “Fennis goes to the Fair? Is that a storybook?” Joyce nodded her head, already opening to the first page. “I know a good story can always put a good girl to sleep.” “I’m not a good girl, though?” Emily joked, obviously trying to tear down Joyce’s logic for no good reason. “For any baby that tries to say they’re not sleepy, then,” Joyce without taking her eyes from the page snarkily corrected herself, whilst Emily giggled. Joyce reached her hand through the bars and ruffled Emily’s hair while she laid on her side, sinking into the pillow and mattress. She cleared her throat and started. “There once was a big, old forest in a big, old valley in a far, far away place.” She went to speak the next line, then Emily stopped her. “Wait! But where is it, though?” “Where is what?” “The valley?” “Weren’t you listening? It’s in a far away place.” “Relative to us, though?” Joyce looked at her with judging eyes, as Emily snickered over getting the exact reaction she wanted. “In a far, far away place, approximately 1,673.42 miles from Emmy’s crib located in the corner of her nursery, at least thirty floors off the ground, inside her nice big apartment.” She looked over to the girl trying to choke down a giggle fit. “Better?” Happily pleased, Emily nodded her head. “And in that forest was a small burrow, sitting next to all the homes of every other furry friend and creature. But who lived in the burrow? Mr. James the jaybird lived in the tree, Sammy the snake lived in the log, Rigby the rabbit slept in the wild vegetable garden, and Felix the frog slept in the swamp? So who was it? Why, it was Ferris the Fox, of course!” Although a simple narrative, Emily listened intently to the sound of Joyce’s voice. The facial expressions she used to match the tones of question, surprise, delight, and simplicity were all so dynamic in their range that Emily barely minded that there might’ve been illustrations she was missing out on. She could already see it in her head; the array of tiny holes throughout the animal community, sealed off by their own specialty made doors, and some even with their own carved out windows. Since when did animals need windows or doors, though? Whatever, Emily didn’t care enough to question. “Ferris was all curled up in his bed, slumbering away since late last night.” “Did he go to a party?” Emily interrupted. “Maybe? Or maybe he just had a long day at work? Anyways, Ferris slept and slept, but with a start opened his eyes big and wide, shouting at the top of his lungs,” then in a nasally voice turned up an extra octave, Joyce imitated the fox’s shout, “Today’s the day! The fair is here! The fair is here!” Her imaginative voice had Emily laughing once again. “That’s not how a fox is supposed to sound!” “Oh? And you do know how they’re supposed to?” “No, but they probably don’t sound like that.” “Are you going to keep interrupting?” Emily between her giggles tried to apologize, and Joyce equally as happy herself continued. In a regular voice she read on. “Ferris bounced from one end of his bed and to the other, excited to have a fun day at the fair. It only came once a year, and Ferris was looking forward to everything he would do there. The fair travelled far and wide and came from the far, far away ocean. There were games, rides, food, and much more. He was especially excited for all the fish he would get to eat.” Passively, both thought to themselves, do foxes even eat fish? Then again, if there was a line to be drawn, why did the talking fox get behind it? “Rushing to get the morning started, he said while brushing his teeth, ‘I can’t wait to eat lots of candy, ride the rollercoaster and play lots of games and win lots of prizes!’” “Wait!” Joyce looked over to her, mildly annoyed. As annoyed as a mommy could be with her baby. “Could you...could you go back to doing the voice?” Emily seemed a bit more sheepish this time. “Not another peep, understood?” Emily nodded her head. Back to the nasally voice, Joyce repeated Ferris’ line again. Emily gleefully listened, happy to hear the voice she’d just criticized return. The simple story went on like so, and Joyce further introduced a range of dynamic voices as more and more characters were introduced. She didn’t openly say it, but James the jaybird was her favorite voice. The deep voice she used for it reminded her of how Joyce described her dad: ‘booming’. Again, it was simple, but that made Emily no less engaged as she heard the tale. She couldn’t remember a time when she was read to like this. Maybe decades ago, but not really ever until now. There was something vibrant and wonderful that Joyce added to it by hearing it from her mouth; something that made Emily feel so fuzzy on the inside, as if to make the story digestible for someone as small as her it had to be expressed in silly voices and sounds. The whole way Emily suckled on the bottle, watching Joyce’s basic, yet hypnotic movements as she rocked back and forth in the chair. Every now and then Emily would find herself forgetting what happened in the story, simply because she was dozing off. How long was this story, anyways? As if it mattered. She didn’t bother asking for a repeat, namely because she’d already thrown a wrench at the gears enough and knew she’d probably doze off again in the middle of a recap. Between the page turns, Joyce would look over to Emily, clearly seeing how she was practically running on fumes by the time of the climax. Not that it was anything too exciting, considering the title pretty much spoke for itself. There was as much character depth as you’d expect from a daycare bestseller, and the conflict wasn’t exactly layered either. No real twists, just a simple experience. That didn’t change it was an easy and enjoyable read though. Not much longer after that, Emily was sound asleep, yet Joyce pressed on with the story. With only a little bit left, she saw the story to the end. “And after Ferris hung up his brand new fish, and set aside the set of pet oysters he won, he slipped into his own bed, thinking what a wonderful day he’d had. And as the moon started to rise, Ferris started to snore, dreaming about next time when the fair would come, and all the fun things he would do next year.” Marking the end with the close of the book, Joyce looked at the sweetly sleeping girl. “Goodnight, my princess...” In a hushed voice, Joyce made her final coos as she finally turned off the light, closing the door just slightly behind her. She looked at the time on her phone disappointingly. She knew if she wanted to make some real headway tonight, she’d probably be sleeping in a little later tomorrow… She’d definitely be up before Emily though. Knowing her, that was practically a given. Everything that needed to go into the nursery would have to wait until tomorrow, considering a certain someone was currently sleeping inside of it. She could at least group everything by the door in the meantime. Rolling up her sleeves, she set out to work. It was strange to be back in panties again, even if she didn’t want to admit it. How could it not be strange? Several inches of thickness and absorbency were suddenly gone, and you also suddenly knew what it was like to press your thighs together again. Panties had their unique comforts as well, though. As well. She hated to phrase it like that, because that meant she was admitting to some benefits in wearing diapers, which unfortunately wasn’t totally false... Right now though, she probably did look like a kid that just got her toilet license, considering she was lifting the hem of her sundress right now to see how they looked. No more cartoon characters, and definitely no tapes to keep them attached to her waist. Simple, mature colors and designs; something she was much more familiar with. “You know you shouldn’t be doing that around anyone else other than me, right?” Still holding it up, she looked over to Joyce who was currently carrying a small box of baby items. Putting two and two together a little too late, Emily finally let go of her dress and it fell back into place with a blush. “I was just looking, that’s all...” “I can imagine it feels a little weird after going for more than 24 hours in diapers. How do you feel?” “Fine, I guess.” How else was she supposed to feel? Good? Bad? She didn’t feel anything. It was just another day, and another outfit at this point. “By the way, why do I have to wear a dress?” Emily looked down at herself, and then into the nursery mirror a tad bit nervously. “Doesn’t it make me look a little immature?” Joyce paused behind her in front of the mirror, giving the sight a much more satisfied look. “No one said you had to wear it, you know?” “Then why did you pick it out for me?” Emily slightly swung her hips, watching the loose ends swish to her sways. “Because I did? In the end, you’re the one who put it on!” “Fine! I’ll go put some jeans and a shirt on, then,” with exaggerated marches, something a diaper didn’t allow her the liberty of, she walked to what would be her room for only a few more hours. “But,” Joyce’s sudden words halted Emily. “I think looking cute for my parents would do for a really good first impression? Remember? My dad always had a soft spot for me! Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he has a soft spot for cute things in general...” An obvious escape from her true feelings, Emily excused herself with a sharp right down the hall, avoiding the room which would let her reclaim maturity, as well as the nursery that would mean admitting a lack thereof. “...I’ll go get the highchair.” Joyce silently giggled, knowing full well what’d just happened. Clearly she liked the dress, and Joyce did too, but only one of them was brave enough to admit it. “Just grab the tray, okay?” Joyce called down the hall. “I’ll get the heavier part!” Unfortunately it wasn’t an opportunity for Emily to figure out how the tray unlocked because it’d already been done for her. Something told her that later down the line it would be one of her final regrets. Already she’d been toyed with mercilessly. The tickles and misfire with the pancake already were giving her PTSD. She lifted the white, plastic tray and carried it by her side down the hall. “Just set it down in the closet against the wall. There’s plenty of space in there.” The last bit came off as both a positive and a negative. There was the perk of being able to house more baby items, but that also meant a lack of clothes in Emmy’s wardrobe. Maybe there would be time to visit Amy this week… The heavier part came next, both by the help of Joyce and Emily, proving it to be an effective team effort as they disassembled as much as they could to fit it through the door frame. “Done and done!” Joyce clasped her hands as she briefly admired their handiwork, closing the nursery’s closet, and finally the nursery itself. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want before I lock up?” “Actually, you’re right! I’m gonna need a few diapers, at least,” Emily said with joking exaggeration. Joyce looked at her for a moment, then was already re-opening the door. “Wait, wait!” She looked back. “I was...kidding...” “I figured you were,” Joyce laughed, and Emily looked at her menacingly. “...Meanie.” “You know it’s because I love you, though!” Joyce leaned in for a kiss on her forehead, which Emily did accept, but then finally felt a sense of relief once she heard the twist of the key, and knew for sure that their secret was safe. “Relieved?” “Definitely,” Emily sighed. She looked around their immediate surroundings one last time, trying to find any sort of miniscule detail that might betray their efforts to cover up everything entirely. Thankfully Mr. Bear couldn’t cause any more havoc than he already had. He was trapped in a place where his screams would never reach the surface... Emily quickly shook the thought out of her head. Clearly her mindset was still in another place. Taking a note from the blank white door shrouding a rabbit hole of fantasy and fetish, she tried to leave the childishness by the entrance. “It’ll be fun, okay? Tonight’s gonna be great, and so is the one after that, and then the next one too.” “Are you gonna be able to get all that time off?” “Maybe not all of it, but I can definitely finish things up a bit early at the office. Don’t miss me too much, now.” Emily stuck her tongue out mockingly, and Joyce only laughed as they moved into the guest room. “Alright, the final, final thing we need to do is move your clothes.” Joyce had already opened one of the drawers. “Are you sure there’s enough space for me in your room?” Emily didn’t sound especially overconfident anymore. “What if my clothes don’t fit?” “Trust me, they will. It forced me to toss a few things that I haven’t touched in years, anyways. Honestly, I don’t even know how some of it survived when I first moved here.” She took a moment to consider her personal mishaps, then doubled down on the task at hand. Between the two of them, it only took a handful of trips with a handful of clothes between each of them. Since her visit to Jack’s, her wardrobe had returned to not only its original size, but also took on the addition of Joyce’s plentiful generosity, near doubling what she had. There was a fine line between what you could see was hers, and what was a gift from Joyce. All you needed to do was look at the info tags or the logos on some of the clothing. The price was certainly telling enough. “Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve never been in your room before?” Stepping inside for the first time, Emily was treated to the final room of the apartment she had yet to see. “Well, it’s not much, but it’s mine I suppose.” “Not much?” Emily silently muttered, taking in the wonderful sight. It was just about as big as the ‘guest room,’ if not bigger, and had a relatively similar setup. The theme in here was more along the lines of light grays accented by purples, especially evident in the comforter, and also in the blinds. Her room didn’t have a balcony, but instead made up for it in a small stretch of window reaching from the floor to the ceiling which covered the span of the bed. It allowed a breathtaking view out into the city and onto the street, and though it didn’t seem like much right now, it surely must have been magical at night. She had her own closet, dresser, and although much smaller, still a personal bathroom. A tv was mounted to the wall on the opposite side of the room, and on either side of the bed was a nightstand. The bed was just as big as the one she’d been sleeping in, and there seemed to be a few more extra pillows to boot! Wait, of all things, why did that excite her? “Think you’ll manage with me in here for a few nights?” Emily responded by faceplanting into the bed. The give and slight bounce to her collision was naturally the only way you can truly test the worth of a mattress, and resoundingly satisfied, she said with a muffled voice, “Yes, I think this is acceptable!” She felt the remnants of last night on her cheek as it nuzzled into the comforter, brushing her hand across the cool material and feeling the slight fuzz of tiny, miniscule fibres sticking outwards. “Well it’s not time for bed yet,” Joyce finished sorting both of their piles and was just about to pull Emily back up, though she managed herself. “A few more trips ought to do it.” The pair went back and forth, and forth and back, only now Emily helped with the sorting rather than taking so much stock in Joyce’s bed. Along the way, she kept admiring all the smaller details of the room, slowly digesting what made Joyce into the person she was, or at least defined her character. From the walls, to the floor, though maybe those parts weren’t so telling… How she arranged her room and decorated her smaller bits was a bit more of a story. A stand was placed underneath the tv, providing some relief to the empty space that would’ve been there. Knick knacks decorated the top of it with a few photos of scenery, a strange, metallic sphere that seemed slightly bigger than Emily’s hand, and a couple of books neatly stacked on one another. “Emily?” “Huh?” She turned her head to Joyce and the dresser, noting there was still a small amount of clothes left. “I think I may have lied about space… I guess I didn’t realize you had so many clothes.” She then looked at her judgingly. “Are you sure you don’t have a shopping problem?” Emily’s eye nearly twitched. “Gee, I wonder who got me so many.” “Obviously yourself,” Joyce with a ‘huff’ continued to play into the joke, which Emily found just as funny as slightly annoying. They both very well knew who was the reason for her massively expanded wardrobe, and the thought of trying to shift the credibility onto Emily was a huge no-no. “Well, it’s not like I’ll need everything, right?” While Emily openly spoke, she did a slight twirl from heel to heel, pivoting from foot to foot as she neared the fullbody window closer and closer. “No, I think what we have is plenty, too. I’ll just slip these into the nursery then.” It must have been a pile Emily threw together, because Joyce didn’t recognize it, and Emily admittedly gave up on folding by the end of it. A few shirts covered the lot of items, but considering where it was going it’s not like they needed to be tidied. Just as Joyce was locking up the nursery for the last and final time, Emily drifted into the hall. “And you’re positive they won’t find out?” “Absolutely, whole-heartedly, one-hundred percentu...ally!” The sudden devolvement in her speech naturally had Emily shifting gears, far too busy to worry over things when there was stuff too funny not to smile over. And the reassurance was definitely needed, but it still didn’t feel like enough. “Where are we gonna put the key though?” Emily started to look nervous again. “What if they ask about what’s inside the room?” The much calmer and collected one then said, “We just tell them it’s meant for storage. It originally was, you know? I mean, it always worked on you?” Stupidity then followed on Emily’s part, realizing that she was in fact practical enough to believe that. It probably was storage at one point, but Emily couldn’t say with confidence as to when it stopped being that. Regardless, even if it didn’t make sense, some part of her wanted to believe that Joyce’s parents wouldn’t be satisfied by such a simple answer. They’d crave details, asking, “Oh, but Joyce? How could it possibly be for just storage? Whatever could there be inside of it that you’d need to lock away? Why, if I didn’t know any better, this would clearly be the perfect setup for a nursery; obviously meant for Emily! It makes too much-” She nearly hit her head off the wall trying to drop the stupid notion. And why did she give their voices an accent inside her head? Such an oddball… Did her parents even have an accent? Probably as much as Joyce did, which was none, but then again, things like that tend to become watered down the further you fall from the tree. A slow, pulsing beep could be heard from down the hall. Emily jumped, not because she was scared, but because she’d never heard that noise once before. Her heart started to beat uncomfortably, because even if she didn’t know what it meant, her body had a foreboding guess as to what it meant. Joyce looked more confused than anything, but that only lasted for a second when awkward surprise and confusion took its place. “Well it’s a good thing we finished up early...” Joyce said, taking her turn to be relieved. She checked her phone then with a slightly urgent pace walked past Emily and down the hall. “Ugh, for once can’t my mom get a time right?” If there was any room left for doubt, Joyce’s complaint was the final sign. “Wait! You mean they’re outside right now?” “We can’t say for sure, I mean, it may not even be them… But if I had to guess...” Emily followed her into the shoe area in front of the entrance, and could see her looking into a small console attached to the wall. Joyce pressed her finger to a button and spoke clearly. “Charles? You’re a bit early, aren’t you?” Emily could hear his voice play back through the intercom. “I understand Ms. Summers, but I suppose their plane landed early. They’re waiting in the car right now. Should I send them up?” “Landed early,” Joyce lightly mocked. “It’s like honesty’s the last thing on her mind...” Rolling her eyes, she pressed down on the button again. “You can send them up now, unless you feel like driving in a circle for a few hours?” “I...can do that, if you wish?” “No, no,” as if he could read her face through the one-way display, Joyce shook her head. “Sorry, just a bad joke. Thank you already for the time you’ve given me today on your day off. Please, just unload their bags, let them inside and send them up. Again, I can’t appreciate this enough.” “No problem at all. Have a good weekend, Ms. Summers!” “Thanks Charles, you too.” Joyce finally turned from the console and moved over to Emily, suddenly hugging her by the waist. “Not that I mind, but, why are you hugging me?” “No reason,” she looked down at her and smiled. “Just felt like it.” “Aren’t they here really early though?” “Yes,” she said begrudgingly. “They are.” “You don’t sound very happy to see them?” “No! No, it’s not that,” she sighed. “I am happy. It’s just one of my mom’s habits, that’s all. To be honest I should have been expecting this. 1 o’clock in her world is probably landing at 11 and meandering for a few more. Clearly she didn’t feel like doing the second part...” “Is being early a bad thing?” “Being early is perfectly fine in my book, only when we can afford to lose that kind of time. If they showed up any earlier I probably wouldn’t have been joking when I said that to Charles.” Her hand brushed the outer part of her pants, feeling the slight bump that matched the outline of the key. As the minutes ticked away, and the inevitable was finally arriving on their doorstep, Emily was feeling the need for a hug too. No matter how many times she told herself that there was no reason to be nervous, of course she’d drum up a thousand reasons that existed purely for shock factor. A pair of faint, yet growing voices could be heard from the outside hall. “Are you sure it’s this floor? I could have sworn he said the 27th.” They sounded headstrong in their own opinion, even if it was wrong. The kind of captain that’d go down with their ship. “Hon, he said apartment 3702, not the 27th floor. Which one is it though?” The voice was deep, with the slightest tinge of age to it. “Odds are on the right, even on the left. Just wait, we’re gonna knock on a complete stranger’s door! We should call Joyce and double check the number.” “Something tells me she won’t be happy about how early we are...” Meanwhile, Joyce give Emily a stare that said everything, as she walked over to the door, slowly turning the knob. Before the female voice could respond, Joyce stuck her head in the crack of the door, too small for Emily to see through as she kept her distance, well inside the apartment. She could see Joyce turn her head from left to right though. “Honey, you’re right!” The male voice exclaimed. “There’s one of her neighbors! I told you we were being too loud!” “What do you mean?” the voice shot back defensively. “Oh...” the heat in her voice seemed to tone down as if she were turning to a different speaker. Probably Joyce. “I’m very sorry about my husban… Joyce!” as if they’d just seen her now, they spoke in a delightful surprise. “Hey mom, hey dad!” Joyce greeted them excitedly. “But in all seriousness, we probably should get inside before mom gets too loud...” “What do you mean too loud? You should tell that to your father. That man has a set of chords on him that make a drum sound like a high-pitched squeal...” the funny banter started to die down as the voices came closer, and Emily could slowly see the door open, as two more figures were introduced. “Anyways, give me a hug, you! It’s been too long!” Joyce’s hand fell off the door as she was suddenly taken in for a hug by someone other than Emily. Someone actually Joyce’s exact height. Just when her face was briefly over Joyce’s shoulder, Emily could see her faded, yet still clearly blonde hair and older face still a close neighbor to when it was once youthful. Her face looked incredibly similar to Joyce’s! Well, considering things genetically, it was actually the opposite, but it didn’t detract from how they certainly looked related. Emily was so busy seeing what her mom looked like, she didn’t even realize when she was looking back at Emily. Her eyes seemed to have a frightening sparkle in them, and Emily could already feel the woman’s desire to smother her. When they ended their hug, surprisingly, she didn’t pounce for Emily, thankfully, and instead waited for her husband, Joyce’s dad to have his turn. If Emily thought Joyce and her mom were tall, she was sorely mistaken. Add half another head to the gap Emily already had with the two other women, and there would be Joyce’s dad. His shortly cut hair looked as if it were struggling between trying to be black or brown, as the pair had struck a compromise on simply really dark brown. Lighter hairs were checkered throughout, and the thin shade of facial hair wrapped around the lower end of his face looked salt and peppered too. From Emily’s perspective it looked as if Joyce had finally met her match in terms of height, but what did that say then about Emily’s predicament? Now she felt even more vertically challenged. “How’ve you been, kiddo?” “I’ve been good, dad!” She happily hugged him back. “How about you?” “Meh, you know me. Same old same old.” “Mom told me you’re still doing cooking events?” “‘Course I am! Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I stopped being a chef!” Joyce chipperly agreed as they finally let each other go. His figure now in full view was as lean as a man his age could be. Though his metabolism was probably on its tail end of a healthy life well-lived, he certainly didn’t seem to take it for granted, minus a little bit of leniency for dad bod, of course. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, along with a pair of sizeable suitcases by his side. Joyce glanced over to her mom, who looked to be ready to burst, and she knew exactly why. While Emily was still silent with her apprehensive observations, even Joyce’s dad gave her a glance and a smile, but he probably kept his true self reserved out of respect. His wife was probably a little too overzealous right now to consider that. “Now mom, you need to promise me that you’re not going to bite,” Joyce said jokingly, but also, not so jokingly… She looked over to Joyce with a frown. “Really? You think I travelled to the other side of the country just to eat your girlfriend?” She brushed her shoulders as if the insult had left a mark. “Maybe a nibble or two, at least...” “Emily,” Joyce was finally the first to call to her, forcing the personal reminder that she indeed, was able to speak. She looked to Joyce with a sense of alertness, as Joyce gestured one hand to her dad, and the other two her mom. “Meet my parents!” School plays were the worst. Productions centered around amateur students who either had the ambition but not the skill, or the kids without a single interest or acting bone in their body. Weeks would be spent preparing for such an important showcase; a culmination of practice, repetition, presentation, and skill, even if there was little to begin with. She could see herself on stage right now, dressed in the farmer’s overalls, facing an expectant audience, waiting for her cue to speak. And it had come, but the words wouldn’t. Weeks. Countless hours spent each and every day trying to remember and recite something that was so simple and so basic. Trained on a never-ending loop, just so that in a moment like this, you need only turn over a few stones to find the words carved into your skull. But of course, in a stereotypical fashion she would forget. Mr. Pig would never be told to get back into his pen, and Mrs. Forrs wouldn’t scold her for being such a mean farmer. Her mouth moved slightly, but no sound came from it. Her array of social skills suddenly fell apart, and the sheer shock of the situation was enough to crumble her very foundation of human interaction. She scoured throughout her head for something intelligible to do or say; anything that would signify a proper greeting! God, why was she freezing up? Think! Think! Quickly, she took one of her hands into the other placing them in front of herself. Then what surprised everyone in the room, though especially Emily and Joyce, was when from the waist up she bent forward at a 45 degree angle. Whilst Joyce was thinking to herself, sh...she bowed…? “N-nice to meet you!” She spoke in a slightly rushed voice, realizing the mistake later than she could correct it. “My name is Emily...” Obviously falling back on her most primitive form of basic introductions, she nearly added her last name too. What was she doing?! She almost didn’t stand up straight, because surely then they’d see her face was as bright as a tomato. It was already a shaky start, but she’d certainly ruined her chances at mutual respect with this blunder. A deadly silence seeped into the room, and just a second elapsed was plenty lethal enough. “Oooh. So formal!” Joyce’s mom suddenly said in fascination, finally taking the attention off of Emily’s shoulders as all heads turned to her. Emily nearly laughed at her own insanity. She’s pitying me… The only male in the room cleared his throat, “Definitely!” He gave a pleasant smile. “But Emily, really,” he chuckled. “We’re not that special, but we appreciate your hospitality.” Emily slowly raised her head, still feeling the warmth radiate from her cheeks. Apparently it wasn’t as damaged as she thought, because the overwhelming dread of judgement and ridicule hadn’t fallen over her. Although it started as a trickle, Emily could feel a sense of self flowing back to her as her vocabulary and rationale expanded to what it should be. “S...sorry about that,” trying not to sound nervous, she laughed. “It’s a bad habit of mine. My mom is Japanese, so uh, she used to have me formally greet our Japanese side of the family.” “Don’t sweat it,” he smiled once again, oddly making Emily feel a slight bit calmer. “Thank you again for your respect!” “You never bowed to me when we first met...” Joyce said in a brief, jokingly pouty voice, obviously trying to lighten the mood. It definitely worked though, because Emily couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh, I can’t wait anymore!” Joyce’s mom suddenly exploded in a small burst of frustration, as her flats rushed across the floor and closed the gap between her and Emily in mere moments. Her arms wrapped around Emily in whole, her arms included. Trapped in the cocoon known as Joyce’s mom’s arms, she felt herself squeezed all over. “Emmy it’s so great to finally meet you! You’re the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!” E..Emmy? Emily slightly leaned her head past the woman and looked at Joyce with worried eyes. Worried for an endless list of reasons, the first on the list being the sudden physical affection she was now being given. “Ah, hon,” her husband thankfully came to Emily’s rescue, tapping her on the shoulder. “Mom!” Joyce near-hissed, much less reserved than her dad. “You can’t just smother her like that!” Her mom finally relented, as Emily could feel some air getting back into her lungs. At least now she knew where Joyce got her affectionate side from… She looked as if she only acknowledged Emily’s presence right then, as she apologized in a much more relaxed tone. “I’m very sorry about that Emmy, but I’ve been waiting quite a bit to do that… You know how it can be.” No, she didn’t, at least she thought, but her mom spoke as if the feeling justified her actions. “You know we got lucky when Hannah decided to stick with our son after meeting you,” her husband joked, but given the depth of his voice, he almost sounded serious. “Oh quit it, you! She’ll really start to think I’m some sort of creep or something,” she looked back to Emily as reassurance. “I promise, I’m not.” Clearly meant as a joke, Emily still nodded as if it were crucial information. “By the way, Mom,” Joyce finally interjected. “Why are you calling her Emmy? Her name is Emily.” “What do you mean?” She looked over to Joyce as if she were in the wrong. “I heard you call her that over the phone?” All three relevant female figures in the room then remembered the night in question that Emily was sick and wandered into the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell you that you misheard me? It’s Emily.” “Fine, fine, but what’s the harm in a nickname? If you won’t say it, then I will. I think it’s cute,” she turned back to Emily. “You don’t mind the name, do you hon?” Emily didn’t know if she was genuinely being asked or coerced into a binding contract. Just as she was going to look over to the visibly annoyed Joyce for help, the wife’s retainer once again reeled her in. “Mary, you need to give Emily some space to breathe. I think she’s about to be shell-shocked if you keep the pressure like this.” Clearly she didn’t like to be told ‘no,’ but she did seem to listen to reason as she let the topic go. “Sorry about that, Emily. She tends to get excited when meeting new people.” “Don’t worry about it!” Emily gave the best smile she could; a few blocks down from a totally genuine one, considering how mixed her emotions were right now. Everything was either of positivity or pure confusion. And no offense to Joyce’s mom, but Emily was currently favoring the dad right about now… “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you guys as well.” That comment had both parents smiling. “And you,” Joyce accusingly notioned to her mom, who looked back with confusion over the tone. “Do you know what time it is right now?” “What? Maybe a half-past twelve? Noon at most?” “It’s a few minutes past eleven!” Quietly, Joyce’s dad moved on over to Emily’s side, making her look like a middle schooler at best. “This can happen every now and then...” he explained to Emily in a hushed voice, who quietly nodded, listening on as well. “Isn’t that good? So we’re an hour early? That means we can do more stuff today!” “An hour?!” Joyce raised her voice, just like her mom, “You told me the plane was going to land at one! Do you know how lucky you are that Charles was there early?” “And we were very generous with his tip,” her mother said contently. “I really don’t see the issue. Everything worked out, didn’t it?” Normally Joyce wouldn’t have been happy to hear that Charles was tipped. She paid him more than enough than to be tipped by the people he drives. When it involved working with her mother though, Joyce unfortunately felt that it was appropriate. “This time, it did,” Joyce bitterly remarked. Probably a perk to their mother-daughter bond was how expressive they could be with the other and not fear hurting the other’s feelings. Emily watched in mild fascination, finally seeing their exchanges in the flesh rather than over the phone. “We just finished clearing out a room for you guys, you know? I was ready to have him make you guys circle the block until we were ready to send you guys up.” She looked over to her dad. “No offense, dad.” “None taken.” Both parties seemed to be calming down, as in the end what was done was done, and everything did work out by the end of it all. With one last sigh the pair hugged again. “We’ve only seen the entrance, but your new apartment looks very nice, by the way!” Mary (Joyce’s mom) said, even with just a view of the lowered slate floor meant for shoes, and the slightest sliver of the living room on one end and the kitchen on the other in the hallway. “We get by,” Joyce said simply, finally rolling in their suitcases, feeling slightly sheepish about just only closing the door now after all that turmoil… Hopefully she wouldn’t get a noise complaint… “How was the flight?” “Nothing too bad. Your dad managed to get a good deal for business class,” her husband took a moment to look particularly proud, causing Emily by his side to involuntarily smirk. “Nothing too bad.” “Well that’s good. I wouldn’t have minded getting you guys tickets, you know? That way I could, you know, actually figure out for when you’d be coming?” Obviously she wasn’t totally okay with the early arrival bit. Maybe not so much that, but decades of random disregards for a schedule or date had her simply predisposed to be strict with her mother. “We appreciate the offer dear, but you’ve helped us more than enough. We always had a secure retirement, you just helped us make it a bit more...lavish?” “And you said they’re always like that?” Emily looked up to Joyce’s dad. “One minute it could be like that, and the next right back to a fight...” “They sound like sisters...” “Who knows?” The two laughed, and with the volume of the dad’s voice, Joyce and Mary couldn’t help but notice. “Seems like they’re getting along,” Mary passively said to Joyce, pleased with the sight. Joyce looked back to her with a smirk. “Something tells me though you two might not come so easily.” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” She looked to Joyce questioningly, but then they shared a laugh too. What they understood as sarcasm and genuine flame and fire was something only years of parenting and daughtering could realize. People like Emily and Joyce’s dad could only observe and take notes as they try to decipher a bond that transcended common sense. “So one last time,” Joyce turned back to Emily. “Emily, meet my parents, Mary and Frank. Mom, dad, meet Emily.” All three exchanged greetings one last time, though without the formal bow from Emily this time. “Feel free to call me Mom, though!” Mary added with a smile, whilst the other two apart from Emily gave her suggestive stares. “Do you guys want to see your room?” Joyce broke the tension unbeknownst to her mom. “I can give you the tour once you’re unpacked.” “That sounds like a good place to start,” her dad agreed. “Let me just get our...” “Oh! Your bags,” Emily suddenly trying to be helpful hopped onto the slate floor with her bare feet, taking one of the suitcases with both hands. It came nearly up to her waist and even on wheels when she tried to move it the weight was beyond evident. It was heavy, but she wasn’t going to call it quits after already offering. “Emm-ily, you might want to let Frank take that one. I’m not the lightest packer...” Joyce’s mom with a sudden sense of concern almost intercepted the girl as she maneuvered the case. Emily almost grunted as she moved it. The woman definitely didn’t pack light, but again, Emily didn’t want to waste her gesture. “No, really! It’s fine. I’ve got it.” She wheeled it over to the greatest challenge: the tiny ledge separating the shoe area, and the raised wooden floor where only socks and bare feet could roam. It was minor, of course, but when considering Emily’s physical strength coupled with a heavy suitcase, it wasn’t too far from a recipe for disaster… “Emily, why don’t you let my dad get that?” Joyce like her mother wasn’t feeling too enthusiastic about the challenge either. She knew her heart was in the right place, but still… “All I need to do is...” Certainly struggling, she brought it up to the ledge, trying desperately to lift the ten ton tank on wheels, wooden floor slightly hung over the slate floor, and the front wheels were getting caught on it. She turned her back to the case as she tried to pull it forward. Someone other than Emily finally took action though, as Frank got behind the suitcase, giving the bottom a slight lift and a push for Emily’s sake. It definitely cleared the gap, with the whole system had so much momentum combined, she hadn’t seen the sudden boost in speed coming as she quickly let go of the suitcase and stumbled forward, slipping on the smooth floor. It was close to being a repeat of last night, only that her hands caught the floor before her nose did. “Emily!” Two voices in unison spoke with urgency as Joyce and Mary were both by her side. “Are you alright?” Joyce was the first to ask. Clearly embarrassed, she nodded her head, almost immediately regretting her determination to be helpful. “Yeah, didn’t hit my nose this time?” She spoke as if it were a silver lining, and Joyce chuckled while Mary still looked concerned. “What does she mean ‘this time’? Oh, and Emmy hon, you might want to fix your dress...” Emily spun her head behind her, and suddenly realized why it suddenly felt slightly cooler on the upper parts of her thighs. With the bottom half of her sundress thrown about because of her own antics, her pantied bottom was on display for everyone to see. Before she could herself, Mary fixed it for her; an even worse fate than fixing it herself. Trying not to look at her, namely because of how hard she was blushing, Emily muttered a thank you. “Just let my husband take the bags from here on out, okay? You’ve got gusto though,” she chuckled, “I’ll give ya that.” Gusto unfortunately didn’t feel very appropriate for how she was feeling right now, as she could feel herself desperately wanting to shrink into nothingness and vanish. Not only had she messed up her greeting, but she just flashed Joyce’s parents as well! She’d much rather be caught in panties than the alternative, though… Still, those ‘mature’ designs she was talking about earlier quickly started to feel only so when compared to her diapers. Why? Why did she have to be wearing the ones with the stripes?!

Heyo! Thanks for mentioning that point, and I agree with you that Joyce by now needed a little bit more to her character. I definitely consider this a story with two protagonists, even if on the surface it seems like the most is happening to Emily. How the pair develops is what's most important to me, and I wanted to open this chapter with something that's almost like a life without Emily, or a time before she came into the picture. Since the call with her mother about accidentally revealing Emily, it's been made clear Joyce has her own insecurities and can also see she's definitely projecting her best self almost at all times. That's definitely who she is as a person, at least around Emily, but she definitely has her own issues as well. And as you said, I wanted to try and make her seem a little bit more relatable, at least in the emotional sense. Thanks a ton for commenting! No, you're not missing anything, trust me. I'm the one who missed a line break, separating the memory from the present. My bad! ? Sometimes I can be moving a bit too fast with these postings, and here I am paying the price. Sorry about that. Just to clarify, Emily isn't in the flashback at any point. It ends when Joyce is laying in the bed. I've added the break to make that explicitly clear now, which is what I should have done before. Thanks for catching my mistake! Thanks for commenting! As for your questions about Joyce...well, there will likely be a few more flashbacks down the road, but there's already a decent amount to infer right now I would say. Given the way Joyce felt from the flashback, we know that she is indeed lonely but still craves for social interaction and eventually a relationship. She alludes to it when talking about how she hoped Amy's advice could reach her, that she wanted the type of relationship she has now: mommy and her baby. As for where that desire came from in the first place? I'm not sure if there will be a concrete answer, but I might leave a breadcrumb trail as the story continues. Also, thanks for the bit about the "runaway toddler." That one came from a spur of the moment. I plan to add some more kiddish and playful scenes like that in the future. Glad you're enjoying! Dun dunn dunnn! Her parents! An impending doom! Or is it? Her parents will be here sooner than you think, but until they are, all we can do is speculate... Though, there might be a little chaos involved... Happy to hear you're enjoying it, and thanks for commenting! It means a ton! ? Thanks for commenting!

? Thanks a ton! I hope you continue to enjoy reading! 18 - Tub Time The tiny bronze bell jingled and jangled as a pair of brisk heels shifted from concrete steps and over to a polished floor. The blaring noises and shining sun on the backs of her heels dulled as the door closed She gave the victorian-styled shop a few simple glances, but with an overall indifferent attitude, moved over to the finished wooden counter. The hum of cars and beeps of horns polluted just the outer edge of the shop and unapologetically rapped against the glass. Mannequins in their plastic poses flashed their cloth trinkets, each one dressed and decorated in some form of fashion. One brandished a two-piece suit, and the other a simple, yet elegant, red party dress. The last was what could be best described as casual high fashion; wrapped in a scarf, small jacket, pants similar to, but not quite jeans, and some form of a shoe the spectator really couldn’t care to identify. The kind of fashion you needed to be rich enough to understand. The vibrant, yet synthetic displays beckoned for the attention; just to have a pair of eyes ogle their most defining features. The freedom to express was as much their own as the ability to hear, think, feel, and speak. Despite being of such rigid and regulated mindsets, the customer looked on with envy. Bundled at her side was the fur-lined jacket she’d just removed, trying to alleviate herself from the newfound warmth in the shop. Underneath she wore a blouse, and her face was dolled up in the kind of makeup that screamed business and professionalism. Her face stayed neutral, and harbored little enthusiasm. There was little expression at all. No indication of anything, really. After a thoughtful glance and her phone, and allowing an exact minute to go by, she let a small sigh as she pressed the tiny head to the second bell on the desk. A ding rang with a considerably higher pitch compared to the doorbell, but lasted half as long. “Coming! Coming!” With each frantic response, the distance between the two closed further and further. While the customer waited, she’d taken to admiring the countless rolls of fabric stored inside the wall. Admiring may have been too strong of a word. Observing them, at least. The door behind the desk suddenly opened, and a face familiar from countless business dealings had emerged. With a pencil sticking from her ear, and her blonde, shiny hair tied back, she raised the rimmed glasses she was wearing just the slightest bit. “Joyce! How have you been?” The looming gray over her expression seemed to fade somewhat, as an albeit small, yet sunshine crept between Joyce’s sealed lips, and a true smile came. “I’ve been fine, Amy. And you?” “Same old same old, I guess,” her pupils drifted to the upper right as if it reflected her thought process. Then she looked at Joyce with a puzzled look. “I can’t remember, was I supposed to have something ready for you?” She partly chuckled, as her confusion managed a lasting smirk on Joyce. The mental image of her spacious office, and empty home started to fade the slightest bit. If she had any real friend, surely it was Amy. The one and only person she had a soft spot for. She slightly laughed herself, as she seemed angry with herself for letting the same trick get her time and time again. “No, did you already forget? I thought I said I needed to be remeasured?” Once clueless, her eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh! Right! You have a dinner coming up in a few months, right? Did you want something new altogether?” “Ideally, yes,” Joyce spoke with a slight passiveness, already trying to formulate the perfect image in her mind. What would be appropriate? Taking the business climate and occasion into account, she at least knew where to start. Then again, Amy usually handled the creative process for her. Then she looked at Amy disapprovingly. “You didn’t schedule something over me, did you?” “Other than getting a coffee started without you? Nope!” She lifted the side panel of the desk. “Come into the back. We can get started right away.” The pair’s heels clicked to their own tunes as they moved into the back. Joyce had already set her jacket on the sofa, and was stepping out of her heels. “Not that I mind, and from one friend to another, why did you want to be remeasured?” Amy asked, already sifting through her small basket. With her small roll of measuring tape, she turned back to the CEO who was already unbuttoning her shirt. “I’ve been doing a bit more exercise lately,” without giving Amy her full attention, she unzipped her skirt next. Considering the bitter cold outside, it was at times like these she hated being a slave to business culture. Forget the stockings, she may as well have been naked from the waist down when it came to the wind and freezing temperatures. The seasons were ever-changing, but the clothing expectations always seemed to remain static. Or at the very least, no theme seemed to appeal to the winter… “I just want to make sure I still fit my normal sizes?” Amy silently gave her figure a split-second scan.“I can understand that. Should I get something started for you too, by the way?” She gestured to the stairs leading up to her apartment. “I don’t mind making you a drink too.” “I’ll take a coffee after,” Joyce fixed her hair as in just her underwear she stepped onto the small platform, looking into the mirrors. “Am I good to go?” Amy wrapped the tape around her skin in various places, capturing all the digits that defined her as a person. With the most recent numbers by her side, Amy had supplemented her last few suspicions with visual truths. The measurements hadn’t deviated much really at all, but for the kind of money Joyce paid, the deviations were by a significant margin. “You know, if the whole CEO thing doesn’t work out, I’d say you’d make a pretty good model for a magazine or fashion in general.” Amy eyed her with the look of an inspired artist. “I could always hire you as a mannequin?” Craning her neck back, Joyce looked down on her backside. “...I’ll keep it in mind, but right now I think I prefer the entrepreneurship kind of business.” Taking advantage of the mirror, Joyce had taken to adjusting her hair the slightest bit. “You’d be pretty surprised...” underneath her subject’s arm and close to her waist, Amy eyed the amount of inches with squinting eyes. “Fashion can be a dangerous game!” “Really.” Her words carried off into the void. It wasn’t a question, or rebuttal to Amy’s claim. Her bland response killed what small talk they had going, and the rest of the review went on in silence. “There is some difference...” Amy glanced from an old page to the new. “But not a terrible lot. Are you sure you want me to use these numbers? Didn’t you say it was a few months from now? Shouldn’t I expect an even greater difference then?” About a second went by until Joyce had responded. “...I’ll have it fitted from there. I just felt like setting a new baseline, that’s all.” “That’s all?” Amy muttered in a lowered voice, clearly unconvinced. And as Joyce remained still on the platform, with no one watching Amy’s face, the corners of her mouth slowly rose as Joyce’s intentions were as bare as her skin. With money being no object to Joyce, trivial visits like these were considered more of a social gathering interaction than a sizeable bill. If it only took a thousand to schedule a simple chat, or the company of a friend, even if Joyce wasn’t honest with herself, clearly she was willing to go through with it. “A new baseline? You mean to tell me I reserved 45 minutes of my day just for me to spend only 10 of them measuring you?” Suddenly flustered a tad bit, clearly hitting a sore spot, Joyce looked finally from the mirror and to Amy. “W-well...what do you care?” she countered with shaky nerves that did a poor job of shrouding the truth. “You’ll get paid.” With a small ‘hmmf,’ Joyce curtly turned herself back to her clothes and started to dress herself again. “You drink yours black, right?” “...Yes.” “Just tell me if you want to chat for a while. I’m not cheap, but you don’t need to buy my friendship, you know?” Genuinely trying to play dumb, Joyce feigned ignorance, saying, “What are you talking about? I just didn’t know how long it’d take.” Her hand clutched the jacket’s arm. “But I guess you’re right, there is a bit of time left. Forget the coffee, I’ll just head back early,” after finishing putting the rest of her clothes on, Joyce already turned swiftly for the door. “Wait.” Amy spoke simply, and without even giving her a meager glance. And Joyce did so, reluctantly, yet ultimately turning back to the couch. So little was Joyce ever talked to as an equal, and ordered around like this. She hated it, namely because it meant that they knew her down to a ‘T.’ Considering Amy knew her cup size, that probably made sense… They saw past the empire she had built and what might she wielded. Rather than the hard facts and monumental numbers, they saw her in a light where she was stripped of all superficial qualities. Without her highrise, she was nothing more than a cocky and crude unpleasantry, which is why it was so hard for her to stay that way like this. “Pretend all you want, but you’re a pretty bad liar. At least when it comes to this stuff,” Amy snickered as she briefly excused herself. She supposed the one perk to black coffee was how she could make it without even intending to. It was the same recipe as her own brew, except all you needed to do was stop at step 1: make the coffee. Joyce with an annoyed sigh quit while she was behind, and waited until Amy came back down with two mugs in hand. “So, what’s new?” Joyce accepted the warm mug. “Nothing noteworthy, I guess. I just moved into my new apartment about a week ago.” “Oooh. Anything nice about it?” “I guess.” She didn’t seem to look so enthusiastic about her monumental purchase. “Once you pass a certain price threshold, they’re all nice, I suppose.” It’s all it ever was. The same bells and whistles across the board, just under a different roof and different by a margin of a mere couple tens or few hundred thousands of dollars… Nothing that really affected the numbers too much. “I guess,” Amy mimicked in a mocking voice, sipping from her mug. Joyce stared with a mindful look, trying to determine if she should be offended or not. “Really? Tell me more!” Amy slightly shook Joyce’s knee with her hand. “How many rooms does it have? Bathrooms? A garage? Balcony?” “Two bedrooms. Well,” she paused, “three, I guess, but only two were furnished to begin with… I don’t think I’ll bother with the third.” The empty white walls echoed in her head. “How’s the bathroom?” “Good. Better than my last place, I’ll give it that. It’s one of those models where the showerhead is built into the ceiling?” Her nonchalant attitude earned an obvious look of jealousy from Amy, raising a brow in disbelief while Joyce continued to seem oblivious, or rather, continued to stare off into space. It never was easy talking to Joyce. Sometimes she was so absorbed in her mind at times, she was too deep in her own thoughts to hear the outside world. It was a silent and unspoken suspicion that Joyce didn’t know how to socialize outside of a work setting. Maybe she’d forgotten how to. Maybe she didn’t want to. “Well, not all of us can live in a highrise with our sky showers!” Playfully, Amy joked, mostly, and even causing Joyce to laugh when she slowly started to realize how ridiculous she may have seemed. “Sorry. I know I can’t be easy to talk to, sometimes...” “Maybe if we did this more often you’d be a bit more relaxed?” Joyce simply breathed through her nose, wishing for the same, yet regarding it like it were an impossible dream. “Sometimes I miss not having all of this, you know.” “What? Money? Fame? Status?” “Yeah.” Joyce spoke simply, despite there being a chance that Amy was being rhetorical. Then she looked at Amy with an odd sense of seriousness. “All of it.” “...Really?” Suddenly with a much more forced attitude, Joyce backpedaled. “Yes...and no...I do like it, and I do feel accomplished, but I feel like I miss out on other, simpler stuff.” “Well, what’s a normal week like for you?” “Wake up, check the news, drive or be driven to work,” her ‘be driven’ part struck yet another unfortunate chord with Amy. She listened on though. “Work, maybe leave early if I need to make a dinner meeting or party, then...” “Then?” “Go home. Wash, rinse, and repeat. The weekends don’t exactly get much more exciting.” “Have you tried taking up a hobby?” “You mean exercising?” “I don’t know... Actually, wait!” A bulb had lit above Amy’s head. “Didn’t you say you used to cook with your dad? Why not that?” “Cook for who? Myself? You can’t exactly make spectacular one person meals...” she spoke somberly. “Well what about...you know...” Joyce looked at her with a puzzled expression, clearly indicating she did in fact not ‘know.’ “Dating? Meet someone?” Joyce looked as if she were told to jump of a bridge; plagued with uncertainty and apprehension. “I don’t know about that… I don’t think I’m very interested in meeting someone...” “Come on, really? You’re gonna shoot it down without even considering it? There could be a great guy out there for you!” Joyce didn’t look any more convinced. “Or a great gal?” She looked at Amy with strangeness, and Amy decided to cut that avenue short. “Fine, fine. Don’t blame me for trying though...” She sighed, as no other immediate ideas seemed to strike her. Thankfully though, for comedic relief and to alleviate some of the tension, a silent predator pounced from the ground below and onto the top of the sofa between Amy and Joyce. Each surprised in their own way, Amy was the first to speak. “Ashes!” She tutted disapprovingly, but of course she couldn’t really be mad. The cat meanwhile seemed to care little for the scolding, and positioned itself next to Joyce. “Ugh...he always manages to slip out when I move up and downstairs...” Setting her mug down, she moved over to the furry friend nuzzled against Joyce’s leg, who was currently watching the cat with a pleasant fascination. “Sorry about that, I’ll move him back upstairs, where he should be,” with her last few words being heavily directed at the culprit. The only thing that stopped her from grabbing him though was Joyce’s polite refusal. “I don’t mind,” a small smile crept over her face as she started to pet him, and a quiet purring ensued. “I don’t get to see him much, anyway. He can stay like this.” As she looked over to Amy, the warmth in her face seemed to dissipate a little. “Is that okay?” Suddenly realizing the dynamic, Amy conceded with her own smile, sitting back down, admiring the exchange silently for a few moments. She then gave her expressionless cat the kind of eyes that spoke “You got lucky, buster.” But as she watched Joyce calmly continue her pets and light scratches, she spoke simply. “Isn’t the answer pretty simple?” Somewhat lost in petting the cat, Joyce turned over to Amy. “What is?” “Your loneliness issue? Why don’t you just get a pet? A cat would probably be good.” Amy then interjected the brief silence though, adding, “But Ashes is off the table. He may be my little troublemaker, but he’s still my furball.” Joyce danced her index finger along the top of his head, and it earned a wonderful meow, warming her seemingly cool and collected demeanor. But it did little for her response to Amy. “I don’t think a pet is really for me, so he’s all yours.” She spoke simply, ending it on a small chuckle. “I guess I like the idea of something or someone to be with...but, I’m not so sure. I don’t know what I want. Besides, I wouldn’t be home enough. Even if it was a cat, then they’d be just as lonely.” “So get two?” “One of anything is plenty.” “Then just spend more time at home?” It was doable, which was exactly why Joyce knew she was making excuses for herself. It didn’t stop her refusals though. “That’s not what I mean...” “It won’t get any better unless you try to make it better, Joyce,” Amy took a sip from her mug. “There’s a difference between trying to solve your problems and learning to live with them. I’d like to think that someone will come along the way and change your mind, but really, I’m not so sure considering we’ve known each other for so long, and nothing seems to have happened yet...” It was enough to make Joyce remorseful over her own inaction, but Ashes, meanwhile, had rolled onto his other side, purring as he rubbed more against Joyce’s thigh, beckoning for the the pets to continue. Amy watched with a tad bit of annoyance, realizing just how much of a drama queen her cat really was, muttering to herself. “Always trying to be in the limelight…” “I want a relationship, but I don’t know what kind I want. It’s hard to talk about…” She had moved on to testing the squishiness of his paw pads. “Does that make any sense?” “As much sense as using a seamstress for therapy?” “What can I say? You haven’t steered me wrong before?” At the lighthearted comment, both women shared an equally genuine laugh, polishing off the rest of their coffee. “Something will change, Joyce. I’m sure of it. When something does come along though, I wouldn’t pass up on it. Chase it, and see how far it goes!” She wanted something to come, and she’d earnestly try to never let go, but it’d already been so long, and never once had an opportunity come. She figured her chance at happiness would never present itself. There wasn’t any way Joyce could confide in another person truly and wholly. She wanted such conflicting things in a partner; independence, dependence, innocence, determination. They had to be self-sufficient, and capable of doing for themselves, yet also to lean so heavily on her. Her desires were so scattered, it was likely impossible to find someone who could piece that sort of relationship together. Nevertheless, she could only hope that Amy’s words of wisdom applied to a desire as peculiar as hers. She had the business, but now she wanted the homelife… Alas, she doubted that she’d ever meet someone that’d understand her on such a level. Never. “I think it’s about time I start heading back to the office.” She watched Ashes thoughtfully when she stood up, a little sad to disappoint the feline by ending their little cuddle session. In his relaxed position, he cocked his head awkwardly, looking for where his cuddle buddy had gone off to. He briefly meowed. Amy walked over to the whining cat and substituted with her own petting.“You sure?” she glanced at the nearby clock. “I’m sure I could find a way to kill 10 more minutes?” With the joke of today’s meeting still far from wearing thin, Joyce had taken it in stride. “No, I think I’ll be alright. Traffic will probably eat up that free time for me.” “Mmm. I suppose you’re right,” Amy spoke somewhat pensively, already feeling the flame they had begun to forge slowly dim into nothingness. On rare occasion could she actually get Joyce to be herself, and it was times like these when it was just long enough to tease Joyce’s true personality. It took a little bit of time, but she could feel reminded that life wasn’t lived inside an office, and that there were people who cared for her. They were friends, but Amy couldn’t say she truly knew the woman. It made her a little sad to say that, despite Joyce only being a client, but as a sense of recourse she reminded herself that socializing was a two-way street. They said their goodbyes, and after slipping her jacket back on, her dimmed attitude felt at home once again when it dived into the windy morning, just a few minutes shy of noon. Despite the crisp chill that froze her cheeks, and reddened the tips of her ears and nose, her eyes wandered aimlessly about the city street, being a silent observer to her surroundings, and a spectator to her own life. Just when her cheeks started to sting from the cold, she reminded herself that there was a heated car right next to her. Her hands gripped the durable foam surrounding the wheel, and her directional clicked and clicked. And clicked. And clicked. And clicked. One hand sank to her side, and seemingly by chance fell down by her phone; just close enough to grab it. With a few simple strokes, the ringing on her phone hummed as a substitute for the silent engine. “Sheila?” Using her rearview mirror, forced habit begged for her to check her eyeliner, and to make sure the coffee mug hadn’t harmed her lipstick. She knew her blouse wasn’t wrinkled, thankfully, and her pantyhose were as smooth as could be. “I wanted to tell you that I won’t be back today. I’m not feeling very well.” A few moments went by, and the directional still continued to tick endlessly. “I understand. George can be my stand-in for the quarterly report, and just have him give me a recap tomorrow. And if you could reschedule the meeting with Anderson for Thursday I’d appreciate it.” … “Then if not just shoot for Monday next week. If not then...” How much she didn’t want to deal with this right now. She wanted to drop everything… She loved her job and what she did, but sometimes it could all just be too much. “Then we’ll handle it from there.” Finalized in her decision and action, she finally pulled out and onto the road. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” The apartment was shrouded in a daytime darkness, with the only light coming from the open doorway behind Joyce. Unlike the hallway behind her, a few thousand square feet felt terribly empty. Stepping out of her heels as she stepped into the supposedly homely part of her home, she glanced longingly at the kitchen. She couldn’t be certain, but it was probably a safe guess that three of the four chairs at that table hadn’t moved since the people she paid had put it there. The couch was neat and orderly; a cushion to each corner, and the coffee table’s contents fitted in the proper position. She liked to keep things clean. And the biggest secret to it all? If you never used it, it couldn’t get dirty. Not a single light was turned on, and apart from the few spots light did manage to seep in through the large windows, a great deal of shade hung in varying degrees throughout the home. Each and every room that mattered was fully furnished, and there wasn’t a touch of echo. But how could you know it echoed if you barely spoke? There wasn’t anyone to speak to. And she lied, there was an echo. Not in the verbal sense, but the emotional. With a destination already in mind, she skipped by the tv, windows, bathroom, guest room, empty storage room, office, and stepped into the one place she could call familiar out of forced circumstance. There was a slight jostle of keys when the jacket pocketing them hit the ground, and she laid herself on the luxury mattress, yet finding absolute zero luxury in it. A dead silence sang throughout the apartment in its tone deaf lull, and it was loud enough to make her ears bleed. The cushy pillow and memory foam knew exactly how to make her body feel comfortable, but not her emotions. Not her mind, and not her heart. And as her head sunk into the pillow, she stared into the ceiling, and nothing stared back at her. The tears wouldn’t stop, but neither did each other’s embrace, which is exactly why her ducts showed no signs of stopping. Her cautious hand clutched the back of Emily’s head, fastening her securely to her chest as she openly wept, moved to pleasant shambles as a weight inside her seemed to be pulled away with such jarring force, she was simply stunned. There was a gaping hole left inside her heart, and almost immediately it was being filled with some inexplicable substance that infected her with complete, total euphoria. She wanted to hear it again. She needed to hear it again. What gave her purpose, what gave her meaning. What reminded her how to feel and have emotions. The only thing that could shock her out of such an emotional state was when she could hear a sobbing other than her own, and feel the trickles of something down her chest. “E...Emmy?” between her sobs, Joyce managed to ask. “What’s the matter?” Tearily, she chuckled. “What’s wrong?” “I...I don’t know...” sniffling herself, Emily rubbed one of her eyes. “You started to cry, so I started to… I don’t like seeing you sad.” It was another innocent line from the person she loved the most, and to hear even as the provider she was still so deeply cared for, she bit her trembling lip as she rested her head on Emily’s. “Emmy?” “Mhm?” “Can I be a little selfish?” “Of course you can!” Emily spoke with disbelief, trying not to mind the slight crack in her voice from such a rapid shift in tones. After all she’d done for her, and she still felt the need to ask for one measly thing in return? Hell, at this point Emily was prepared to sign off her left kidney! Still very much using Joyce as her cushion, she still looked upwards to the loving woman that stared back at her. “What is it?” “...again?” It sounded as if she said something before that word, but they came as tiny, incoherent whispers. “What?” With some leeway in Joyce’s grip, she rose slightly in her lap to become better face to face. “What did you say?” “...say it again?” “Say it? Say what...” And as Emily began to repeat the question, she felt her nerves and anxiety creeping to an all-time high. Had she really forgotten so soon what she just said? It was hard to believe those words came from her mouth… Nevertheless, they did, and she could feel the strange, yet pleasant remnants of the distant syllables trying to burn fiercely once again. And as her face spelt realization, Joyce herself started to look incredibly nervous, yet with eyes that begged shamelessly for the repetition. Emily had never seen Joyce so vulnerable before. So innocent… “M...mom...my...” Emily awkwardly played with the word, not finding it to be so easy this time, now that she had all her mental and emotional ducks in a row. The thought of Joyce being the flustered one was oddly sobering for her own mood. As if it were a trigger word though, she could feel Joyce’s arms squeeze her waist, and a gleeful noise escape the woman. “Now the other part!” Eagerly, Joyce egged on. Despite taking up the majority of her vision, Emily started to find it extremely difficult to look at Joyce. In mere moments the tables had been turned… “I….ov...you...” In a tiny whisper, Emily spoke. With the shoe on the other foot, Joyce turned her ear towards her. “I couldn’t hear you, honey. Louder?” Every part of her personality told Emily that she was on the edge of her seat, and given it was a sight so rarely seen, Emily felt compelled to satisfy. “I...I love...you...” A sudden, yet welcome tender exchange began as Emily felt her lips interlocked with Joyce’s. One smooth set of lips pressed to the other, one of their hands were interlocked with the other while Emily used the other for support. What Emily experienced was what she’d been teased this entire time. The seductive, dangerous lover that lurked underneath the sheets, and hid behind the matronly mother Joyce portrayed herself as. It was the third persona hiding behind the business woman and caretaker. Another friendly face Emily had only been given tidbits of, and was just only starting to understand. Only just starting to enjoy. For a few moments, Emily forgot she could breathe through her nose, which is why she suddenly pulled away for a breath of air. Joyce meanwhile had found her bravado and confidence once more, as if she’d stolen Emily’s like a succubus. It was certainly a strange departure from Joyce, as despite all being rolled into a single package, and considering Joyce a single entity, the name ‘Mommy’ felt oddly appropriate right now… It was off-putting, yes, but an unexpectedly interesting privilege she now felt she had exclusive access to. Joyce only had one baby girl, and Emily only had one Mommy. The pair was intertwined, and one held all the interest of the other. Trapped in a symbiotic relationship, one’s love longed for the other’s. “I’m sorry it took me so long...” She looked down at Emily with a curious stare. “So long for what?” “You know, to say it? To call you...M...mommy?” The tone, circumstances, and expression didn’t seem to matter. The two syllable word tickled Joyce’s heart no less, and it felt just as amazing as the last time. That being said, it didn’t deter her from comforting the girl. “Awwh… Don’t worry over something as silly as that,” she brushed Emily’s hair, but then slowly leaned forward, just enough to submerge Emily’s hair in the warm water. “But you’ve always thought of me as your,” she paused for an embarrassed moment, “baby, and only now I’m starting to...” Her heavy hair clung to Joyce’s skin as the water seeped from it, but none of it seemed to change either one’s attitude. They were so focused on each other, their surroundings had lost its meaning completely. “Maybe it was a little sad that you’d call me Joyce instead of Mommy...” Joyce spoke truthfully, and it doubled Emily’s regrets. “But,” with a finger underneath her chin, she slowly rose Emily’s eyes to hers. “Now that you’re saying it, I know that you mean it. That makes me a thousand times happier than if I forced you to.” Her smile spurred one for Emily as well. “I want you to call me what feels right, okay? Mommy, mom, mama, or even Joyce. Whichever name makes you feel the most comfortable.” Joyce knew what she really wanted Emily to call her, but hearing it twice already was more than enough, and her desires had been extremely humbled. Even if she could only hear it every once and while, it’d be more than enough to satisfy her. “Well...I want you to call me what feels right, too.” Emily spoke with certainty, and Joyce happily agreed, though, truthfully she’d been doing it from the very start. She wouldn’t try and trample on her kindness, though. “Are you ready to get squeaky clean, now?” Without waiting for an answer, Joyce already spun her around and into place while she reached for the shampoo. “I can do it,” charitably, Emily reached for the bottle, but it was pulled outside her range. Still outside her reach, Joyce poured some into her hands and was already rubbing them together. “Nice try, but I’m not gonna miss out on giving my little one a bath!” “I was just trying to help...” Emily muttered defensively. “You need to wash your hair too, you know?” “That’s very true, my little Watson.” Chuckling, she already made contact with Emily’s scalp. “But I can do that after I get started on you.” “Whatever you say...” Emily’s eyes had already closed their curtains, as she sat lazily on her knees, slightly slouched forward while the tender scrubs forced her forward and back. “So, have you had a good day?” Joyce spoke slow and soothingly, already aware of just how lazy Emily could get during tub time. It was a disarming voice that confirmed and reinforced Emily’s desires to eject and cruise on autopilot. “Mhmm. It’s been the best one yet...” Yet. Emily unknowingly had set the bar, and Joyce was already itching at the challenge of trying to top it. Too bad this one still had 6 more hours to it… Even with that in mind, it meant 6 more hours until she could give it her all yet again, but also 6 more hours to enjoy what a personal treat today had been as well. Maybe she should have put two candles on the cake? “Well I’m very, very, glad to hear that,” a small trickle of water pouring from a cup expanded into a mini waterfall as it washed through Emily’s soapy hair. After a few more repeats it was slowly transitioning back it its sleek and shiny self. The only way of knowing anything changed was if you took a moment to smell the wonderful fragrance imbued in her hair. “And after we get all cleaned up we’ll have a little more time to play, alright? So start thinking about what you want to do.” “Let’s watch a movie,” Emily somewhat mumbled in a murmuring voice. Joyce only laughed the tiniest bit. “A movie? I don’t know. We just got finished with two hours of tv. More than two, I should add.” Emily could feel the scolding stare on her back, and it only made her smile, and try not to fidget. “Maybe, but I was thinking maybe we could do something else? I’d prefer for you to be a little awake before bed.” “Huh? Why?” The idea of being awake before bed seemed a bit counterintuitive, and it didn’t make Joyce’s intentions any clearer. “Mmm...” Joyce ‘hmmed’ thoughtfully. “It’s a surprise. You’ll just need to wait.” Emily tried to turn her gears as best as she could, but her concentration was often broken by the gentle scrubs in her particularly sensitive spots. The whole way Joyce made no comments other than positive reinforcement, taking in every moment of bathing with her baby. “Joyce?” A small, personal trance inside of Joyce wavered the slightest bit. So did that mean it was a grownup question? “What’s wrong?” “Why do you have such a...nice body?” Joyce blinked, then felt her cheeks grow a little warmer than she’d have liked. “Wh, what do you mean?” She tried to laugh it off, but Emily still looked just as focused. “I’m serious though! I’m jealous...” Emily spoke on a more somber note, downcasted with a view of her own significantly smaller proportions. Namely her height. “Honey...” Emily could feel her bum slide across the bottom of the tub, and two soft cushions receive her back as they came to a halt. “You’re beautiful, I promise. I wouldn’t want you any other way.” “Yeah, but maybe I want myself like you...” “Well, I want you the way you are,” Joyce countered in a matter-of-fact voice, and Emily stared back all flustered. “What do you mean? You’re like a head taller than me! If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think I’m your adopted-” Suddenly, Emily was overcome with a sense of stupid. She slowly turned back to the bathwater. “Wrong,” Joyce ‘bzzed’ with her mouth, pulling back the dejected girl’s gaze. “Yes, maybe a little bit your size helps with me carrying you around,” Emily wouldn’t admit it, but she probably liked that advantage to being smaller, too… “But I like it because it’s part of what makes you, you.” She spoke with emphasis on the last part. “When we snuggle, hug, interact, do things together, I always like having my gal. I can’t explain it very well, but just know that you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t let these things get in the way of that,” jokingly, she lifted one of her breasts then dropped it. She then decided to take a gamble, saying, “Besides, if you were as tall as me, then both of our boobs would get in the way!” Emily tilted her brows upward, clearly hurt, yet right before Joyce was going to say something, and odd giggle escaped her. Soon it became a chuckle, then a full-on laugh. Internally for Joyce, it was a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry,” Emily wiped a joyful tear from her eye. “You’re right. I’m just talking about stupid stuff. Sometimes I like being the smaller one, too...” “It’s never stupid to talk about stuff like that,” Joyce had moved onto washing her own hair. “If you’re ever feeling bad about something, I want to hear about it.” It was another one of those moments where even the joking and teasing Joyce spoke with the utmost seriousness. With nothing left to do but watch, Emily admired the sight as her caretaker and lover cleaned themselves of the day’s fatigue. Though, she had to be truthful when she said that it can get boring even to watch the one you love the most. As if reading her mind, Joyce said, “I know, I should’ve thought of this.” “Thought of what?” “A bath with no bubbles?” Joyce spoke as if the answer were practically a given. “No toys, either?” Her second comment came with a little more personal disgust. “Er, Joy- M...Mommy,” clearly she was still getting used to that. “I’m fine though?” “Well I’m not.” Despite acting like the grown adult, Joyce’s small aggravation came off as a tiny temper, and Emily watched with amusement. Still, maybe bubbles could have been fun? The idea of trying to be imaginative with toys though felt like another task she wasn’t up to. For the time being, she’d take a simple soak over clashing plastic boats and rubber ducks together any day of the week. She looked over at Joyce who still seemed to be internally feuding. Maybe six days of the week? Joyce finally sighed, then looked over to Emily. “I guess until then you’ll just be my little sea otter.” “I thought I was a cat?” Emily narrowed her eyes. “Kitty,” Joyce corrected. “And only on land. Cats don’t like swimming, you know? We need to keep the story believable, silly.” The bewildering logic only made Emily snicker, trying to piece together just who they were trying to prove something to. At some point she’d drifted to the far end of the tub, and turning back to the relaxed Joyce, she crouched on her feet, then tensed her muscles, propelling herself towards her target. A large swish and swosh of the water resounded in the waves she left in her wake, poised like an arrow soaring through the water. Her momentum was absorbed by the water and Joyce’s body as she wrapped her arms around the woman, slightly surprised by the sudden attack. Fixing her hair, Emily looked up to Joyce with a smile, both of their hair swept behind their heads, hanging heavy from the water. “You know, I’ve never seen a sea otter before?” with no real reason, Emily said. “Really? I know the city aquarium has them… You haven’t been there?” “No, I’ve only been here for about two years, you know?” “Two years is a lot of time, you know?” “Besides,” Emily dodged the question. “You wouldn’t really catch someone like me at a zoo or aquarium...” Her face partly sunk into the water, just enough to make bubbles with her nose. “Why not?” “That’s where people bring their kids, or, people go on dates. Jack and I didn’t ever go there...” The last bit seemed to have dampened her mood a little bit. “Well isn’t that convenient then?” Emily wordlessly looked up to Joyce. Only then did the words ‘kid’ and ‘date’ strike her. “But-!” She’d been through this song and dance too many times before to not know where this was going. “No butts,” Joyce pulled Emily a little closer. “The more that I think about it, either the zoo or aquarium sounds like a fun outing. I don’t think I’ve ever took my mom and dad?” Double panic started to sink it. “Wait! No! We can’t go with them!” Joyce smirked. “So is that your way of saying you’re okay with it?” “No! Well...” she started to look sheepish. “Yes. But, they probably have things they want to do too, right? Won’t we just be getting in the way?” “That’s very thoughtful of you, sweetie, but we actually needed some stuff to do. Now that’s one day taken care of. Such a good helper...” Joyce quietly remarked as Emily’s nervous thoughts were coming into play. “Won’t they think it’s kiddish?” “No? Going to see animals isn’t as silly as you think, Emmy. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I want to go too,” Emily couldn’t help but agree, as she watched Joyce’s conviction quickly cement and become absolute. Why did she have to be so good at churning out ideas? “I’m sure they’ll like the idea too. And how else am I supposed to show you what a sea otter is?” “I can google some videos?” Joyce scoffed in an exaggerated manner, looking at Emily with pretend-condescending, yet still just as loving eyes. “I think you’ve had enough screen time for one night.” Emily puffed her cheeks at that one. “Trust me, you’ll be happy I showed you the real thing.” Emily could only hope so, because her immediate feelings right now weren’t too stellar. She could only hinge herself on her genuine excitement of seeing the animals. It was more about the mixed setting that involved Joyce’s parents. Nothing against them, of course, but where she was with Joyce still felt awkward to publicize. Their watery cuddles were then interrupted by the taller of the two rising from the water. Losing her cushion, Emily suddenly looked up to her, dreading the fallout. “End of the line, kiddo.” Joyce leaned over to the console and pressed a button, and Emily could already start to hear the water drain. “Do we have to? Just five more minutes?” Emily tried to use a pleading look. “You may have me wrapped around your finger, but not this time.” Emily suddenly felt Joyce’s hands under her pits, and she was lifted to her feat. The sudden emergence from the water sent a wave of chill down her body, even with the bathroom fan humming away. Almost immediate with goosebumps, she was beyond thankful for the towel that wrapped around her like a cloak. While she was busy holding it together, a pair of hands bunched her hair while it was wrapped in a much more manageable-sized towel. Turning to the culprit, Joyce was almost exactly like her, except her towel gave her feet and arms free access. “I want a towel that fits me like it does for you...” Emily passively spoke. “And so it shall be.” Joyce spoke simply, stunning Emily over her casualness. Snapped out of her thoughts, Emily tried to protest. “Wait, no, I wasn’t being serious! I was just venting!” “Why not?” Joyce gave Emily a brief look while staring into the mirror. “It is cute using the bigger towels on you, but I know convenience is pretty important too.” “Then just tell me how much it costs and where I can get it.” Emily knew she wasn’t going to get out of this one, but she could at least minimize the damage. “No, and double no.” How quick she was to forget Joyce’s signature trait… “What? How come? J...Mommy, I can pay for it myself.” “And that’s especially why I said no.” Joyce booped the annoyed girl on the nose, which simultaneously excited her as well as aggravate. “Mommy’s don’t give their babies an allowance, much less expect them to buy something on their own. If you want something, all you need to do is ask. And you did, which I’m very happy about, by the way~!” Calling it asking was a stretch, considering it came off as a fleeting comment than a genuine complaint. She didn’t like the idea of having to watch her words around Joyce, but she knew if she didn’t then there would probably be a few too many unexpected purchases on their doorstep. If she wanted anything henceforth, she’d need to be discrete about it on her own time… “What are you thinking about?” Emily’s eyes wandered to the window. “...Nothing.” Clearly unconvinced, Joyce shrugged for now and checked the wall-mounted screen. While Emily’s eyes wandered, she noticed Joyce’s small pile of discarded clothes, right next to her pile. Well, where her pile should have been. Instead, all there was on the ground was a used diaper. Slightly used… “Do you wanna get in your jammies now, or later?” Joyce asked in a small shout over the hairdryer. “Already? I can’t be that late, can it?” Another glance at the clock read close to eight, and Joyce gestured to Emily to come closer with an authoritative finger. Emily took a few steps, then slowed to a halt as the door to the hallway came into her vision and mind. There wasn’t any real reason for it, but a strange idea popped into her head. Something totally unusual and unlike her typical self. It was odd, and devious? Devious, yet tempting… “Emmy? Yoo-hoo?” Joyce wiggled the dryer as a reminder. What was she thinking about? “Coming?” Blankly, Emily looked back to Joyce, then the door, then Joyce. And then as a smile crept on her face, she gleefully shouted, “Nope!” Joyce didn’t even react when it happened, or was at least too surprised to. While it sunk in her head Emily just refused a simple gesture to have her hair dried, Emily’d done something so out of left field to the point where she quite literally ran for it. Darting to the exit, she swung the door open, still in her towel and slipped into the hallway. Joyce could hear the rapid thumping of her feet across the floor. Wordlessly, with a cocked eyebrow, she clicked off the dryer and poked her head out. “Emmy? What’re you…?” Poking her head outside the doorway, she noticed the sudden draft as the apartment wasn’t nearly as heated as the bathroom. She slightly shivered peering down the hall. She could see into the far end of the living room where Emily was, positioning herself behind the couch as she stared back with eyes of mischief. Only then did it finally click for Joyce. “Ohh?” with an amused laugh hidden in her taunting voice, Joyce looked to the girl who seemed to be troubled with keeping down a laugh herself. “Emmy? You know I’m supposed to finish dressing you before you leave? Running around like that is going to get you hurt!” “Not true!” Emily countered, balling her fists into the edge of the couch as she crouched in front of it as her pearly whites flashed themselves.. “I’m wearing a towel!” Joyce excitedly paced her own mental steps; pleasantly surprised by the sudden naughtiness in her charge. “Maybe, but we both know that you’re not wearing your diaper.” Emily’s laugh slightly stuttered, and she blushed, but she still seemed adamant. “Emmy,” taking a small breath, she stood fully in the hallway. “I’m going to give you to the count of three, and by then your tooshie better be back in this bathroom. You’re going to get the apartment covered in water!” It was a real issue, but Emily knew how to distinguish between Joyce and Mommy. The threat seemed real enough, but so did the desire to cause a little havoc. She didn’t know why, but there was something about chaos that suddenly tempted her. The only reason she kept it going was that Joyce seemed to be enjoying it too. “One,” sternly, Joyce tapped her foot. Emily hadn’t moved an inch. “Two.” She was really going through with this? Joyce’s heart was in full swing. Joyce opened her mouth for the final call, until Emily spoke. “Wait!” Emily suddenly blurted, and her face shifted to one of remorse. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have left...” “Are you ready to apologize?” And so the thrill had come to an end… Emily slowly walked around the couch, and Joyce could already see a few drops of water trickle down her legs and onto the floor. Thank goodness the floors weren’t carpet… Joyce kept her hands around her hips, doing her best to impersonate a scolding mother, and Emily had just reached the entrance to the hallway. “Just kidding!” Joyce simply blinked yet again, when from Emily’s perspective she pulled a sharp left and scurried off to the kitchen, past the shoe area by the door. Out of sight, Joyce held a hand over her mouth as she silently laughed and giggled. Apparently her little princess had become a bit of a trickster, and she was loving every second of it. Back to her stern self, she called, “Three! That’s it missy, you had your chance!” She followed the trail of giggles and water into the kitchen, which sure enough harbored the runaway toddler. “Last chance,” Joyce warned, already looking ready for a chase. She held her arms open, equally meant for receiving a willing participant, or a rebellious runaway. Emily as best as she could to keep the tension high and the atmosphere bubbly, regarded Joyce’s sweet embrace as certain death, and was determined to do anything she could to avoid it. Joyce started with a calm, yet brisk walk around the left side of the island to where Emily was, and Emily in response already made an even faster motion to the right. The advanced moves were already in play though, because Joyce even faster pivoted on her heel to swap directions. She near-leaped around the side, and Emily’s reaction was just soon enough to space her a foot away from Joyce’s reach. The sudden surprise and narrow victory caused her to squeal, and at Joyce’s failed attempt, Emily stuck out her tongue in a teasing reaction. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now…!” Joyce quickly abandoned her feints and went for a much more direct approach, and for Emily to counteract the disadvantage she had in stride, she worked twice as hard to move her legs. The whole way she needed to hike up her towel to keep her range of motion free, but in the process the towel on her head slipped off and her damp hair flowed freely. They did two close laps around the island, and then the table, which nearly once again spelt Emily’s defeat. She was breathing fast as the adrenaline worked through her veins, and even though Joyce was much more composed, and obviously less tired, she looked to be working a small sweat up herself. And even though she still fully intended to maintain the chase, Emily started to wonder in the back of her head, what would Joyce do once she caught her? Suddenly she didn’t like thinking about the consequences so much… She went back to focusing on the fun of the process. “Never gonna catch me!” Emily cheered as she made a beeline back into the hallway, and Joyce followed right behind. Joyce knew she would catch her, of course, which is why she prolonged the chase so she could think of an appropriate punishment. Nothing actually bad, but something to ‘punish’ her for being ‘naughty.’ Did she have a stool for the corner? Maybe an earlier bedtime? The last one would be certainly severe… Emmy probably wouldn’t appreciate that one… Emily too… As Joyce followed her down the hall, she noticed the wet trail they were on since their entrance. It was all fun and games, but Joyce called, “Careful! Don’t slip on the-” It was too late, because with each step Emily suddenly became much more shaky as her center of balance wobbled and collapse, tumbling forward and hitting her face against the backside of the couch. As friction left the building, so did her feet, rising into the air along with the rest of her body as it hit the floor. She must have hit a slight stud on the sofa, because there was a bit of a sound to it upon the collision. “Emily!” Gasping, Joyce hurried with caution over to the girl, who was already collecting herself. The thrill and fun they were having quickly drained as Emily pushed herself up from her position, and Joyce was already there helping her. Joyce didn’t know how to react, whether as a mother or a lover. She carefully looked Emily’s face over, likely still red from the heated bathroom. Emily looked a bit uncomfortable though, and she was, considering she just hit a couch face first. There looked to be no lasting damage, but it really did hurt. She clutched her nose as her eyes became teary from the stinging and pain. “Emily? Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” She held Emily close and she continued to inspect, meanwhile Emily started to sob. Joyce knew the nose was an area of concern, but was otherwise relieved to see nowhere else looked bad. “Can I see your nose, sweetheart?” She resorted to the much more cushy language to be all the more comforting. Emily had been through worse, but that didn’t meant this was any less bad. She carefully exposed her nose for Joyce to take a look. It definitely looked a little bit redder, but thankfully nothing lasting. “It’s alright, you’re okay. Just a few boo-boos, huh?” Joyce comforted, whilst Emily still tried to brace the lingering effects of the fall. Why was she running around in the first place? Didn’t she know how stupid of an idea that was to begin with? Her adult mindset was already back and waiting to scold her. Meanwhile, the very person who warned her not to do what she did was nurse her. “I’m sorry...” Emily tearily mumbled as she leaned into Joyce. “Well, I’m not going to say I told you so, but I think you’ve learned your lesson, huh?” Emily meekly nodded, just beginning to feel the throbbing pain die down. “Still, that wasn’t like you? What happened to being my good girl?” “I don’t know...” she rubbed her eyes, slowly standing up with Joyce. “I thought it would be fun...” “There’s much safer ways to have fun, silly.” She patted her head. Joyce had nearly broke into her own hysterics had Emily seriously been injured. It genuinely scared her to think of what else could’ve happened if they got a bit too careless. They could consider themselves lucky on this one… “No more leaving the bathroom unless I say so, okay?” Once again, she agreed. A wet and cool kiss planted itself on Emily’s nose. “Pain, pain, go a-way! Come a-gain a-nother day!” With swirls and twists of her two index fingers, she finished the small ritual with imitated fireworks using her hands. “Better?” Emily nodded her head, smiling. “Lots.” “Good. Once you’re all dried up, we’ll get you in some nice and soft jammies, then you can help me clean up the little mess you made.” her voice nudged to the small puddles of water. Emily slightly giggled, knowing the punishment was well-deserved.

17 - A Night of Celebration While the tv continued to play, Emily busied herself with inspecting just how squishy Pip was. Like a diligent scientist, she’d poke and prod him all over, curious to see just how long it’d take for the dents she’d cause to slowly regenerate and erase any trace of her own impact. Despite being nearly completely naked, Joyce always knew how to keep the apartment regulated. Apart from the occasional shift which would cause her diaper to crinkle, causing her emotions to get a little warmer than she’d have liked, she was overall content. How couldn’t she be? Everything today was about her, and even if it weren’t her birthday, she’d still feel like the center of Joyce’s universe. At times, yes, it could be a little overwhelming, but compared to her initial feelings, when she first walked through her door--correction, when she first woke up in her guest bed, she now had an odd sense of normalcy… She was in a bubble, as best as she could describe it. Her own little oasis she was just beginning to think of as her own. By large and far, it all belonged to Joyce, but so did Emily, too… Even if it wasn’t the most adult and responsible thing to do, nor was her current behavior, someone watching over her had such a positive ring to it. Then, for no explicit reason whatsoever, what’d been hanging over their heads the entire day suddenly sat atop her shoulder; an immovable weight which pinned her worries and nerves deep into her flesh, and near-snapping her spine. Such a pointless and relatively insignificant fear had grown and festered into an insurmountable monster that glared its teeth at the girl. As inside Emily’s head as Joyce’s reassurances and she herself was, a person can never be fully convinced unless it’s by their own conviction. The irrationalities always knew just when the big and scary Joyce was scarce, because it was then Emily could feel them breathing down her neck, staring her down like lasers on an ice cube on a hot Summer’s day. A poor, and cheesy analogy, she knew, but time after time had proven she wasn’t exactly the best thinker… The first thing they’d think of her was what a freeloader she was. How some stranger could leech off of their hardworking daughter, take advantage of her kindness, indirectly spend her money, be spoiled rotten, eat her food, take up her bedspace, waste gas, take up bath water, breathe the same air as-- The room started to feel a bit hotter than she would have liked, and slipped Pip a little bit forward just to give her face something to bury itself into. Something to cool down her overheated gears. Her feet strained into the cushy, oversized cushions of the couch as she made a small, apprehensive whimper. Pointless worrying was exactly how it was called: pointless. Even still, it didn’t stop her from feeling that way. Maybe from the right perspective their relationship was understandable, but how could you explain this sort of dynamic to rational, everyday people? Something was bound to slip, or be misinterpreted as something that’d sour their image. Her parents had no real control over what Joyce or Emily did, but they could certainly make them feel sore about it. And the diapers. Oh, the diapers. The nursery, toys, bottles, pacifiers, bibs; all of it. As far as Emily saw it, they were in a war zone right now, and they were supposed to make it look like paradise again in less than 24 hours. She knew the nursery door was lockable, but to even consider the thought at being revealed nearly made Emily want to take off her diaper right then. All that’d protect them from certain demise was a visual obstruction and a block of wood just a few inches thick. Her cushy underwear was starting to feel less than ideal. That’d disappoint Joyce, though… And as much as she hated the idea, she tried to ignore her constant, inner nagging about how to “better herself.” On the grand scheme, Emily’d like to think that she’d never been steered wrong by Joyce before, even if there had been certainly trying times. She truly was an emotional pillar for the girl. Before, she may have considered the gesture fickle, and something she couldn’t wholly lean on, but after how she’d been emotionally distraught again and again, and made whole once more by such an unyielding, powerful force, Emily might as well have thrown herself at the safety net Joyce was. Emily didn’t think the feeling of guilt would ever leave her, or would at least take an extremely long time to. The feeling that she could never contribute as an equal. Case and point being her naked self snuggling with her personal stuffed toy on another person’s couch. Somehow in Joyce’s world though, this equated to probably the thousands of dollars she’d already spent on her. And to top it off, Emily thanked her in wet and messy diapers? A harsh stretch, she knew, but it wasn’t framed as a belittlement of Joyce’s desires, rather a mocking of Emily’s personal shortcomings. Joyce had everything she could ever need, with the money and power to satisfy any other trivial gap. All Emily brought to the table was herself, and even at that she need not forget how the only she table she came near was the one meant for changing diapers, as well as needing to be carried to it. The worst of it all was how Emily enjoyed it. Certain parts, at least, as she desperately hoped Joyce cleaned her bottom well... But the fact remained that she derived pleasure from everything else. She didn’t feel like she was allowed to. She hadn’t earned it. How was it fair that she not only got to feed off of what Joyce did for her, but what she also did for Joyce? She was eating three-quarters of a fifty-fifty deal. But of course, that’s what Joyce wanted: Emily to be her happy baby. But the give and take were so seemingly lopsided, it still felt like she was shortchanging the woman. This is about the time Joyce would come to cheer me up… Passively, she thought, then briefly became wide-eyed over such a thought escaping her. How much of a dependent had she become? She wanted to feel like a big girl--an adult, more than anything right now. Stumbling over the passive effect Joyce’s matronly vibe has had on her forced an annoyed smirk. Unashamedly, and not even stopping to question it, she felt herself wanting to be intimate with Joyce, just not in this way. It was all just so...confusing. As if she were trying to shake the verbal ideas outside her head and into the physical plane, she let out a deep, annoyed sigh. Her hands grew restless, as they fondled Pip’s face and pressed into the cushions. Flustered all over, she nearly jumped when a cool, burst of air hit her neck. A small ‘eep’ of surprise escaped her when she jumped, and despite being all crinkles, turned her head poutily back to the culprit, the one she’d just been thinking so fondly of. Clearly this’d dock them a few brownie points... Joyce, known far too well for her mischief merely giggled at the sight, and kneeled by the couch, casually working her hands into Emily’s back muscles and shoulders. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you, y-” she was about to say, until an involuntary gasp erupted from a particularly tense spot. A knot in her muscles had just been untied, and the physical fatigue she never knew she had, suspended by a simple cord had been released in one simple stroke. She resigned herself to playfully angry murmurs after that. “I just finished making arrangements for my mom and dad,” Joyce explained whilst she stroked Emily’s lower back, with the pinky of her splayed hand just teasing the elastic waistband of her diaper. Emily looked onwards, focusing herself on the sweet sensations exploding from inside her body. Who knew a basic massage could be so euphoric? “And what time are they coming again?” “Noon, I think she said.” Joyce then looked a bit more thoughtfully at Emily. “Are you gonna be okay with this?” “Of course,” and even if she wasn’t, the thought was unthinkable to be a fresh set of eyes in Joyce’s life, and already create a wedge between she and her parents. “I’m just...” she always dreaded repeating herself, because that just meant Joyce hadn’t done a good job of solving these problems in the first place. “I’m nervous...” From the cheeks down she was absorbed by Pip’s figure. “I’ll be there with you every step of the way, okay? You’re my big, strong girl, and you’re also my significant other,” Joyce then laid part of herself on Emily. “You’re special to me, and I want you to be okay around my family.” Maybe it wasn’t so much of even that. Joyce simply saw it as another sign of validation that what they had was genuine. By introducing her parents, it deepened the connection they had; intertwined Emily’s life with hers. “We’ll get you all prim and proper tomorrow,” Joyce gleefully cooed. “They’ll see what a pretty princess you are~!” Emily knew it was probably teasing, but further emotion was channeled into her back, this time being an uncomfortable chill. “Joyce!” Emily whined, finally looking back. “I know, I know. I’m just kidding,” her upbeat tone seemed to have reeled itself in, as she assumed her complacent self. “You’ll be your big girl self tomorrow.” It wasn’t quite like how Emily would have liked to put it, but it was in the right direction, at least. She tried to find the state of comfort she was in before Joyce’s teasing, but she really didn’t know what to do with herself right now. “Are we gonna start cleaning up soon?” “I’ll work at my own pace, sweetie,” Joyce both answered and simultaneously corrected Emily’s question and self-inclusion. Just the same for Emily, it both stirred positive and negative emotions within her. How Joyce could shoulder so much was completely and totally beyond her, but she never wanted to add to Joyce’s workload if she could help it. Then again, she’d already done that so much already, was she even allowed to feel bad about it anymore? “Trust me,” came the two-word command that Emily never seemed to not follow, “they won’t notice a thing.” “And if they do?” Such a worrywart, Emily was. “They won’t.” “But still…!” “Then if that happens, which it won’t, but if the impossible does happen,” finally inching forward to come eye to eye with Emily, “we’ll deal with it then.” It was a less than fantastic response, and even if it were backed by Joyce’s confidence, the response to Emily felt painfully empty. That’s what someone would say if they weren’t planning for the worst. That always meant the worst was going to happen. The House always wins, and fate always knows how to screw a person over in the end. It probably wasn’t true, or so Emily would like to think, but she couldn’t help but feel that superstition would do them in by the end of this visit. “But let’s forget about the silly stuff,” Joyce ushered, casually dismissing a very not silly and in fact very serious thing. “Did you feel okay about what just happened?” Once and in a long while, just like this time, Joyce looked dreadfully serious, ensuring no misinterpretation of joking could emerge. Emily knew exactly what she was referring to. She could still feel the smell etched into her nostrils… Poking at recent wounds didn’t feel great at all, but she sorrowfully responded. “Truthfully...not great,” Emily gave a small frown. “It’s hard, and...it stinks...” both figuratively and literally. It was taking a lot just not to cry from it right now. “Is it like that everytime?” She stared at Joyce, fearing for the worst. “No, honey, no, it gets easier, I promise,” Joyce soothed. To be honest, she was a little surprised and glad to see Emily take to this so well. Really, she wasn’t, but compared to Joyce’s expectations of outright refusal, this went leaps and bounds beyond that. And now she had Emily’s precious trust and encouragement to move forward with. If she needed to take certain, reasonable steps, that was now expected of her. She’d do anything to ease Emily’s pain. “Is there anything we can do to stop the smell?” Emily’s nostrils already twitched in unfortunate memory, given that she was the one who had the thing around her hips. “Maybe, but I can’t make any promises,” Joyce glumly replied. She didn’t want to say something like ‘you get used to it,’ because even if she might, that wasn’t how she wanted to solve the problem. The diapers themselves already worked wonders on the smell factor, but maybe a little more powder in the future couldn’t hurt as well… And she hated to sound selfish in even her own thoughts, but a foul smell was also a helpful indicator for when a change was in order too… Then, in a stroke of brilliance, a wonderful idea overcame Joyce. “Oh! I think I know of a way to help.” Curiously, Emily looked over. “But it involves when you use the toilet as a grown-up, okay?” “I’m not wearing diapers for when I need to use the bathroom.” ...Not as an adult, at least… “No, no, I don’t mean that,” Joyce calmed, though she still acknowledged it as a perfectly acceptable avenue. “I was getting at bringing Pip with you to the bathroom.” “P...Pip?” She looked down on the toy, half-expecting his inanimate eyes to stare back up to her in disbelief as well. “What does he have to do with any of this?” “There’s nothing to it,” Joyce simply explained. “When you go and use the bathroom,” she helped Emily stand on her knees on the couch, then firmly secured the mochi ball in her arms. “Give him a niice, biig squeeze, okay?” As if to demonstrate, she helped her arms squish the little guy firmly to her stomach. “But I don’t get how that...” “You’ll see later on. Don’t think about it too much. Just start doing that for me, okay?” Awkwardly, Emily agreed, though she still didn’t get how a stuffed toy played into all of this. She stared at Pip questioningly. What had she done to him? Rather, how much did she pay to buy him off? She side-eyed the seemingly innocent friend. Innocent for now... “Apart from that,” Joyce briefly spoke, taking the remote from the table, then killed the noise from the tv. “We went way past your tv limit.” She stroked the top of Emily’s head. “Your brain is far too sweet to go rotten from stuff like this!” Her tickles inevitably caused Emily to giggle. “Then what else am I supposed to do?” amidst her giggles, Emily somehow managed to cry in a writhing, wonderful frustration. “Well, seeing as you’re all tuckered out from your toys, maybe you’ll help me make dinner? Huh? Sound good to you?” Chuckling, letting the excitement rise and fall in her own voice, she didn’t stop her tickles until Emily pleaded yes and yes, begging for her to stop. The larger woman’s strength came into play, as she held Emily firm despite wriggling so strongly, it just proved that Joyce was stronger. She stood Emily on the ground, who was still wiping away her tears. Tears that were induced for all the right reasons. Then, Pip, who was being used to give her some sense of modesty, was taken from her then set on the couch. “No pouting,” Joyce said, as if it were a reminder, and every inch of Emily’s body apart from her nether regions were on display. “Mommy needs a special helper, and we can’t have Pip getting dirty.” It was a silly excuse for telling Emily to forget her modesty at the door, but it helped her move along with things. Watching Joyce in her jeans and sweater was making Emily awfully reminiscent of her own clothes, even if they were just a onesie and a dress… She wasn’t supposed to feel bad about this though. She was supposed to be okay with it. She was supposed to accept the flow of everything. At times it was hard, and others, simply conflicting over how she could go along with it so easily. Was she supposed to resist? She tried not to give it much thought during their walk down the hall. Once in the kitchen, Joyce had Emily stand over by the counter. “Eyes closed,” Joyce instructed. Then, Emily smirked, challenging, “Oh? And if I don’t?” Then, Joyce with a smile responded in an almost deathly serious voice, “Then that’ll be a timeout in the highchair.” Emily was already holding back a giggle, one that would be sounded as soon as she heard the ridiculous, or funny response. But when it came out and she fully processed the words, nervousness affected her laugh more than anything else. “Y...you’re kidding, right?” “Do you want to find out?” Joyce looked back to Emily as if a mama tiger were expecting her cub to get feisty. Then when the fabricated tension finally lingered for a few moments too long, Joyce pulled her in for a hug. “Silly, of course I wouldn’t punish you,” she then slipped an apron over Emily’s neck, then said, “well, only if you do something really naughty. But, you’re my good girl, so I know that won’t happen.” She walked behind Emily to tie the apron, and while the girl gulped, and tried to focus on avoiding punishment, the apron felt fit and snug around her waist. She felt her hair being bunched into the loose bun, and she twiddled her thumbs while she waited for prep to finish. Joyce had been looking forward to this since she last thought of it. They both had cooked, but never together, and never as a mom and daughter. She already had her own apron on, and was just finishing the final touches on Emily’s hair. No matter how she looked, she was always irresistibly adorable. Emily may have considered it a curse, but Joyce found it to be a bountiful blessing. “All done,” Joyce steered her over to the cabinets while she took out a cutting board. “I need you to find me a pot and fill it up with some water, okay?” With confidence, Emily shook her head yes, and so did the bun of hair behind her head. Joyce bit her lower lip, trying her best not to smother her again. They were stored in the lower cabinets, and Joyce couldn’t help but watch her padded rump slouch over while the owner of it searched diligently for such a simple thing. It was the prospect of helping that had Emily so engaged, as well as being able to cook with Joyce. Maybe she could even pick up a thing or two… While she filled the pot with water in the sink, Joyce grabbed all the vegetables she needed from the fridge, stepping behind Emily, washing them under the stream. “Is this much good?” Emily asked, eyeing the level carefully. Normally she wasn’t so anal about something so trivial, but she felt the need to be so persnickety given she was working by Joyce’s standards now. “That much is fine. Be careful when you move it to the stove, okay?” Joyce suddenly didn’t sound so jokey anymore, as she watched Emily move the heavy, jostling pot of water. She nearly let out a sigh of relief once it touched the stove. Not that she didn’t trust Emily, but she didn’t want her getting hurt on her watch. She needed to remind herself that Emily was a functioning adult at times like these. She could get a bit too into her role. “Now come and watch Mommy chop,” she brought Emily to her side, making sure she had a good view. Showing her hand to Emily, the tips of her fingers were curled inwards, saying, “Like a kitty, okay? It’s a good way to avoid boo-boos.” She looked as if she were waiting for a nod, and Emily happily answered so. Emily knew the gist of proper cutting etiquette, but she supposed a review could never hurt, and truthfully it was a little fun playing the ‘aspiring chef.’ There was no harm in mixing a little fun with the more serious bits, and starting with a bell pepper, Joyce in a few simple cuts had it divided into halves. Emily had to blink for a few seconds, processing what she just had seen. Wasn’t that a little bit too fast? Clearly it wasn’t as spectacular to Joyce though, as she was still hinged on the much simpler part of the lesson. Either she considered her level of speed insignificant, or something far beyond Emily’s own level. “See?” She showed off her hand yet again. “Kitty paws.” Emily nodded again, only with a bit more curiosity as she watched Joyce chop. Again, she moved like lightning as the metal blade slipped and sliced through the vegetable, moving by even intervals and leaving uniform victims in its wake. And as a parallel yet synchronized process, she moved her fastening hand down the vegetable as the knife moved, maintaining an even space the whole way. “Think you wanna try?” Unexpectedly intimidated, Emily nervously answered, “Uhm, sure...” The other half of the bell pepper was set in front of her, and the bar had been set awfully high. She felt like she was destined to fail. Slowly, she mimicked the “kitty paw” approach, as Joyce called it, then with much more mindful precision tried to form her first cut. Then when she pressed, it wasn’t nearly as smooth as a motion as Joyce’s was. Instead, there was slight resistance in her cut, and she had to press, then a telltale snap would erupt as the knife hit the board. Then she tried the next, and it was somewhat the same. The next one too, and by now she could see her spacing was off. Before Joyce could give any input, Emily was the first in a whine, “How am I supposed to do it like you?” “Ah...well...” Joyce at a near loss thought for a moment. She was starting to think that she may have made something that looked skilled into child’s play, especially to a novice. It was easy, but only when you had years of dedicated experience to back it… It was an innocent, yet broad question, and it had no easy answer. “Here,” Joyce had taken one hand into each of hers, and positioned the blade. “One step at a time.” Even Joyce needed to pause for a moment, as it was like she had to explain how to breathe. She didn’t put much thought into her technique nowadays, considering the best she could say right now was to just do it, and even if she was above average, she wasn’t exactly a master cook. What a spectacular teacher she’d be. “You need to start with a small cut from the bottom,” Joyce helped her position the knife, just so it was slightly leaning into the bottom edge of the pepper closest to the board. “That way when you press down...” She moved her hand down, and consequently Emily’s, and further down the line the actual blade, as the small, simple incision they had made expanded across the arch of the pepper with ease and a small clack from the knife hitting the board. “Like that, I guess,” Joyce simply stated, whilst Emily stared in awe. “Is it really that easy?” Emily exclaimed over such a simple thing, admittedly giddy to fully try it herself. Her slight shuffles caused a few crinkles from her bottom, and it warmed Joyce’s heart to no end. “...Can you show me again?” Joyce smiled, then set themselves up for the next cut. It had a little more spacing than she’d have usually put, but she wanted to give Emily a generous area to work with. “Ready? One more time. So start with a small cut on the other side, then ease it down...” Another successful cut, and Emily was unashamedly ecstatic. She actually felt like a pro, and had discovered a secret that revolutionized the wheel. She’d been thinking about sliced bread all wrong! “Okay, now it’s your turn.” Joyce let go of Emily’s hands, and after a second went over to the stove to turn on the burner, right underneath the pot of water. She came back to Emily and saw her accelerating into a rapid pace. “Easy now,” Joyce warned, placing a hand on her shoulder to slow down. “It’s not a race, okay?” She chuckled over Emily’s slight remorse. “I just wanted to do it like you, that’s all.” Emily spoke earnestly, already trying to elevate herself to the heights of the greats. But apparently she was flying too close to the sun. “You’ll get there, but only if you play it safe. Mommy’s being very generous letting you use a knife you know,” Joyce spoke sternly, but with a joyful smile as Emily laughed in return. Again, it felt strange to be worried by Emily handling a tool she was more than capable of, but the kid’s diaper around her hips spoke differently… “What’re we making, anyway?” Emily asked while she finished up her final chops. “Stir fry. Quick and easy,” she answered while grabbing the package of noodles from another cupboard. “What time is it though? Isn’t this a bit early?” “Maybe, but it should work right about to dinner time. Besides, if we need to turn in early, so be it. Tomorrow’s probably going to be busy.” She spoke with equal parts simplicity and dread. She had no idea what tomorrow would be like, and even if it went well, that still meant there was another whole 48 hours for something else to go wrong. But for the sake of being positive, she tried not to think that way. Emily had already had her fair share of worry, so she did her best to shrug it off and watch Joyce work, while also moving onto the next pepper. “Hey Joyce?” “What is it, sweetheart?” “How long did you say that you were cooking with your dad for?” “Umm...At least 10 years, I guess?” Emily nearly collapsed from the nonchalant mention of her titanous level of experience. “Er, how long might it take for me to cook like you?” Joyce simply snickered as the water began to bubble, and she took a moment to admire Emily’s progress. “Why’s that? Is Mommy’s cooking suddenly not good enough for you anymore? Huh?” “N-no!” stammering, Emily retorted. “Emm-” she paused for a second, “Emily,” the same, typical smile overcame her face, and the corners of her lips rose just slightly, and the smallest sliver of teeth peered between her lips. “Baby steps, okay? If you really want to, you can practice with me more in the kitchen, if you’d like.” “Really?” Emily responded as if she’d been told she was getting a puppy. Such a simple gesture had her eyes glistening, and she looked to be over the moon. “Of course,” Joyce spoke while filling the pot with noodles. “What’s got you wanting to cook so badly, though?” “W-well...” Emily started, then quickly reeled back into her shell. “I kinda like to cook, I guess...” “Uh-huh?” Joyce asked half-seriously. Not that she doubted her, but Emily tended to be a pretty bad liar in front of her. “And...and I don’t know...” She leaned slightly from side to side, crinkling to and fro. “It’s nice being able to do stuff together...” Mildly surprised, Joyce blinked simply as she looked back to her busy bee. “We can always do more stuff together, Emm, but don’t we already do that now?” “Kinda, I guess...” It was one of those responses initiated by her raw emotions and feelings rather than intelligent thoughts and words. The perk to being so understood by Joyce was being able to skip the translation process. She could throw her messy self at Joyce and she could decipher her very being in just a few glances, pokes, and prods. “Is my little one feeling a little hungry for some more attention?” “...” “Emmy,” Joyce started to laugh, “when you want something, don’t be shy and ask for it! Besides, the worst that’ll happen is I say no?” Emily was suddenly out of things to chop, so she looked over to Joyce, with a bashful blush and smile, then nodded her head. “What can I do now?” “You...” Joyce trailed her voice as she looked about the kitchen, searching for something. A look of clarity came over her though when she left the kitchen, then came back with a familiar item. “You’re on break,” she handed the adult-sized baby bottle to her. “All gone, you hear?” She waited for Emily’s answer, which came right after. With some positive reinforcement, and a pat on the head, she then had the girl busy nursing watch as she seasoned the vegetables. “Hmm...” As if with a fine-toothed comb, Joyce scanned over Emily’s handiwork. “If I hadn’t known any better, a master chef could have been in here?” She held up a finely sliced piece of onion. The obviously exaggerated praise had Emily looking anywhere but at her biggest fan, yet the stream of juice didn’t stop one bit. “Oh, actually,” gently, Joyce removed the bottle from Emily’s mouth, and placed the knife back in her hand, adjusting the pink apron slightly. “Hold the knife up a little bit?” Puzzled, Emily listened as she looked at the knife herself, unsure of how to pose it. But pose it for what? She turned over to Joyce, just about to ask a question, but then the audible snap from her phone said plenty. “J-Joyce!” Partly frantic, Emily set the knife down then rushed over to her. “What’re you doing!?” “What?” Joyce spoke defensively, happily admiring the picture. “You look great! I don’t get to see my little girl in an apron very often, you know...” “But I’m wearing…!” “Diapers? So?” “What do you mean, ‘so?’” Emily continued to whine, and after pulling Joyce’s arm down the slightest bit, she could see the screen as well. It was herself, from the waist up, looking at a kitchen knife with the same level of obscurity as she was feeling a second ago. With her bun tied back and wearing an apron, it was certainly a different look for her… “See?” Joyce’s words pointed to the picture. “It’s a harmless picture. No diapers, and nothing naked.” Nothing we can see, at least. There wasn’t any need to add that though. Unnecessary nerves were the last thing Joyce wanted to stir. “But...” Emily wanted to find some sort of fault with it, because she wanted to believe there was. If she knew what she was wearing underneath, of course her paranoia assumed others would think the same upon first glance. “But nothing.” Joyce calmly, yet firmly ended it there. “The picture stays, and I won’t hear anything else about it, understood?” At a loss for words, Emily mumbled an ‘okay’ and continued to be quiet. It wasn’t that Emily was easy to manipulate, but she was simply more trusting of Joyce now. Maybe if she had really pushed, and even if Joyce felt uncertain about it herself, she’d have considered deleting the photo. But over something so small? Not a chance. Not when she was explicitly given permission to be a shot-caller. To be a mommy. “I’ll need one of you smiling at some point though,” playfully, she warned. “Either that or I’ll need to tickle one out of you...” the minor way she spoke to herself scared and stiffened Emily to no end. When it was a clear joke she knew to take it in stride, but from the outside looking in, it sounded like she was genuinely forming a plan… It didn’t take long for the bottle to be back in her mouth. “Well? How did my special little birthday girl like her num-nums?” Joyce fawned and gushed as she dabbed the washcloth over Emily’s face, barely able to move in her highchair. “Good as always!” Emily complimented, still relishing in the wonderful warm feeling she felt in her stomach. Though, a growing tinge in her bladder somewhat dampened the mood. Figuratively, of course. This was starting to feel oddly repetitive. Joyce had kept to her word though, and after being relieved of her apron, the only clothes Emily had on other than a diaper at this point was a bib just covering her breasts. Thankfully Joyce didn’t use that as an excuse to take away her silverware… It had been a wonderful night though, and what a special treat to finish it off on it was. Being her third time in the highchair, the feeling wasn’t too terrible… The security to it all was kind of alluring, in a way. Happily, and dumbly, because she knew it was okay to let herself go, Emily patted her hands on the plastic tray, swinging her legs, anticipating the release from her confines. “What’s gotten into you?” Joyce curiously nudged, washing their dishes. “You’re awfully cheery?” “I don’t know,” Emily giggled. “I’m just happy, that’s all...” she looked thoughtfully around the kitchen, soaking in all the love, care, concern and comfort she’d been given. “Thank you...” On a similar wavelength, past the jokes and simple banter, Joyce repeated the same back to her. “Now who’s ready for a bath?” Joyce looked around the room, curiously, opening cabinet after cabinet, and even lifting a candle for something that didn’t seem to exist. “Who is it? Hmm...I wonder who...” The simple charade was beyond ridiculous, but it was exactly why the absurdity had Emily cracking a smile. She couldn’t help but give a noise of approval once one by one her arms were lifted, and her armpits were analyzed like footprints. “Where is she?” Earnestly, Joyce continued the little game. “I’m right here,” Emily tried to say plainly, but it was obvious the silliness was infecting her voice as well. She tried to lean her head into Joyce’s, but just as she was going to make contact, Joyce leaned back like something else’d caught her attention. “Hey!”Emily swung her feet from the chair, and the tips of her toes just brushed the jeans of her mother figure. Then, just as she made contact, it looked to Joyce as if it were a fleeting thought, and she passively looked towards Emily with disinterest, then shifted rapidly to ecstatic surprise. “There she is!” after a small gasp, Joyce cooed. “What’s gotten into you?” Emily countered in a jokingly mockful voice. She repeated the same words with an artificial tone that nowhere near resembled her own, or Joyce’s. “Oh?” Joyce sounded in an almost offended surprise. “Is that what you think I sound like, missy? Maybe I should’ve resorted to the tickling, after all...” Immediately Emily’s mouth was tripping over itself, begging and pleading for her not to. It was all too wonderful, to see her little girl have the fear of God be put into her by mere tickles. It made Joyce feel a way she never had before. It was like trying to describe why you called blue, blue. There wasn’t any explicit reason for it other than it simply was that way because it was. It had no beginning chain of logic, nor an end. It was one of the many qualities of life you accepted, and celebrated its existence rather than questioned. “Well, you were being so good earlier, that I thought a little dessert was in order. But I’m not so sure now...” Dessert? Emily perked at the sound. Never once had dessert been on the menu here. Smoothies were one thing, but that came from a tangent, not an orderly sequence. And she’d just threatened the balance of this unknown, but likely delicious treat! She stared worriedly at Joyce, trying her best to seem apologetic. She didn’t even know if she was pretending right now, as the mention of sweets blurred the line between fiction and reality to such an intensifying degree. She was a mess of emotions and sensations, and they all screamed for deliciousness. Joyce had her arms crossed, and she looked reluctant, as if it were against her better judgment. “I don’t know...” “Please?” Emily was back to her innocent self, and it was a single word that could make Joyce cave. She planned to from the start, but Emily sure knew how to dish out the big guns… Joyce turned over to the fridge, opening the door after giving Emily’s most recent artwork an affectionate glance, then moved a few larger items to the side so she could pull out what she’d been hiding this whole time. “Ta-dah!” Covered by a thin layer of cardboard, with a plastic window etched into it, Emily could recognize the simple, yet elegant pattern printed around the display box in a pale orange and pink box. The front of it was a slew of cursive that Emily barely cared to read, but she recognized the logo immediately. It was a bakery, and a terribly expensive one at that. Lowering it just enough for Emily to see, inside was a plump square of marble cake, topped in a fluffy, light-looking frosting, crowned by a small centerpiece of banana and strawberry. Two small mocha sticks stuck out at an angle like an abstract hat ornament, and small shavings were lightly sprinkled about the top. The cake itself looked to be an enchanting gradient, as the dark chocolate core lightened into a vanilla hue at the top. It was a generously sized slice of cake that had Emily’s mouthwatering to no end. “Is that for me?” Joyce nearly rolled her eyes. “Of course it is! It’s your birthday! Did you really expect me not to get you cake?” Emily blinked her glossy eyes, and Joyce moved over to the counter with the box, already setting out a plate. What Emily hadn’t seen was the small piece of white chocolate mounted to the top with her name illustrated in a thin chocolate sauce. The finishing touch was the slim stick candle slipped on top, and Joyce lighting it with a match. Emily eyed it temptingly, almost wishing it were within her power to burst free from the chair. The lights in the kitchen started to dim, to the point where the only lights were the glow from the apartment windows looming over the streets, and the orange radiance from the symbolic flame. “Happy birthday to you,” in an angelic voice, Joyce began to sing as she moved the plate closer and closer to Emily. “Happy birthday to you!” The rise and fall in her voice was perfect, and pure lyrical ecstasy to Emily’s ears. Her voice was complete and total serenity to Emily, and if it were a drug she’d already be an addict. “Happy birthday dear Em-mily!” She made a small, satisfied squeal as she rubbed noses with Emily. “Happy birthday, to you!” With the only light in the room illuminating Emily’s wonderful, adorable face, Joyce looked on with immeasurable satisfaction. Taking a moment, Emily puffed up her cheeks, then unleashed a small gush of wind upon the poor, defenseless flame. The wave killed the flame almost immediately, and marked the first milestone she’d ever shared with Joyce. It made her so happy, Emily even against her adult will pushed heavily on her bladder, and the tight stretch finally snapped as the strange, yet acceptable stream flooded her diaper. Potty face. Joyce sighed with a smile as she watched, but could see she was still focused on the pastry. Plucking out the candle, Joyce also snagged the chocolate sign too and gave it a bite. Sweets weren’t her all-time go-to, but even she was curious to how the cake tasted… Just as Emily went for the fork, Joyce halted her with an “Ah-ah!” Emily paused, looking sorely cheated out of her special gift. Joyce looked stern for a moment, but then went back to an immediate smile, knowing she’d teased her for long enough. Emily wasted no time, plunging the fork into the fluffy, spongy substance, and was overwhelmed by a wondrous sense of stimulation the frosting was a smooth, airy cream that only added to the perfect mouthfeel, and she couldn’t help herself but already include the banana into her first bite. The strawberry would come later, and it’d be just as spectacular of a combo to the rest of the cake as was the concoction in her mouth right this moment. Had her mouth not been full, she’d have been making ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs,’ but because it was, she resigned herself to muffled, content noises. Emily was too caught in a drunken pleasure for her to care when Joyce took the fork from her, stealing her own bite. She kept hers a bit smaller though, just so Emily’s stomach had more to look forward to. Though maybe a bit more reserved, Joyce was as equally pleased as well. Clearly this had been the right choice, and she was happy to see her efforts had paid off in full. No words were exchanged when Emily repeatedly opened and closed her hands, begging for her eating utensil to be returned to her. Joyce happily complied, and while she was eating, Joyce needn’t force a smile out of her for a picture, because the cake’d already done so for her. You could see a bib around her neck, and the high cushion to the back of her chair was questionable...but… She slipped the phone away, going back to admiring the spectacle. It was a never-ending gravy train as flavorful bite came after flavorful bite. She never wanted the mouthgasms to stop, and the only times they did was when she needed to wash it down. At some point her juice turned into milk, not that she cared, and went back to happily munching her food. But in the end, the simple mention of such a state was indication enough of disappointment. Not that the cake was bad, no, but because there was none of it left. Granted, Emily felt like she’d easily overeaten, and her stomach strained to the point of a very mild pain. Punishment for her gluttony, she supposed. “Good, I take it?” Almost sluggishly Emily nodded yes, and Joyce could only chuckle. “I’m glad,” Joyce finally cleared off the tray, and even stole a swab of frosting from Emily’s bib, slipping it into her own mouth. She undid the straps, then gave the suddenly blushing girl a testing squeeze on the crotch of her squishy diaper. She hoisted her off the seat, then slipped the tray back in. “Ready for bath time?” Satisfied on all imaginable fronts, Emily nodded her head. Slipping the bib off, Joyce then took her by the hand and to the bathroom. “You’ve done so much for me today, babygirl,” Joyce spoke soothingly as she laid Emily down on the bathroom tiles, announcing the loud noise of tearing adhesives. The faucet to the bath currently gushed a hypnotic noise as the room slowly heated to a relaxing temperature. A small amount of steam rose from the water, and it was the perfect setting to watch the night sky through the window, whilst surrounded in warm, yellow colors whilst getting ready to hop into the blue, clear water. Everything was clean and shiny, and soon Joyce would do the same to Emily. She’d be refreshed in a sweet aroma of scent and smell, and go back to being her perfect self. Not that she never wasn’t. The diaper was only wet once, and it had a long way to go. Joyce thought about it for a moment, but tabled the idea for later. She wanted to focus much more on what was about to come. After removing Emily’s one article of clothing, she undid the bun in her hair and had her ready to be bathed. Still intoxicated by the atmosphere and everything it entailed, Emily stood dully as she watched the water rise, and feel the steam brush her skin. She could almost fall asleep to the noise, but did her best not to. “Someone’s looking a little sleepy, huh?” Emily turned her head to the source of the noise, and was stunned out of her sleep-induced state. “J...Joyce?” In a muffled reply, Joyce said, “What?” The reason it was muffled was because her shirt was covering her face, namely because she was taking it off. Setting it to the side, Emily wordlessly watched Joyce’s enchanting figure slowly unravel itself from the cruel confines known as clothes. Why was her body of such interest? Seeing her breasts suspended by the purple, patterned bra, the panties which complimented them came on display next as the simple stroke of her fingers slipped the denim flap from underneath the button. Lowering her pants, it displayed the rest of her curves, while Emily’s heart was in a shocking and unexpected tizzy, beating fast and heavy as she watched. The simple shake of her head to fix the state of her hair made Emily’s blood-pumper yet again skip another beat. She watched nervously as she felt herself grow hot from more than just the steam. Joyce paid her shameless ogling no mind though, as she unclasped her bra and her beautiful breasts were a spectacular sight to see as well. She’s a woman, so why am I… Emily tried to question further, but the feelings in her heart were telling her to stop, just so she could spend that much more time focusing on the one thing she could take her eyes off of. They were both women, though, right? So why did Emily feel the need to feel so...so flustered? It was strange how natural it felt to Emily though. She’d recognized this feeling with countless other people, but never to someone like Joyce. She’d never considered it, or at least she thought she hadn’t. Maybe Joyce was just that special? Again, questions were the last thing she wanted to entertain right now. Regardless, the feeling was undeniable. Attraction. Much like Emily, the last thing to come off of Joyce was her underwear as well, and suddenly she was just as naked as her baby girl. Emily stared at choice with reddened cheeks, and a face ridden with personal bewilderment. Her innocence only furthered the passion Joyce was feeling however, as unlike Emily, she knew exactly how she felt, and it was the perfect mix of motherly and partnerly affection towards her charge and partner. “Mommy needs a bath, too, silly. Is it okay if I join you?” Meekly, Emily nodded her head yes, trying not to be so fixated on Joyce’s figure. It was funny in a way, thinking how Joyce’d become so casual to Emily’s naked figure, whereas the first sign of Joyce’s for some reason had Emily registering her as drop dead gorgeous. Skin-to-skin contact came into play once Joyce had Emily in her arms again, and Emily wrapped her legs around Joyce’s waist. Emily pressed her smaller chest to Joyce’s easily larger one, and Emily locked eyes with the one person she couldn’t get out of her head. The water swished as Joyce stepped in, and very slowly she came to her knees, submerging Emily’s body soon as well. Emily wasn’t sure of the body’s melting point, but she was sure she was dangerously close to it. Too many factors right now were pushing her close to a fever induced by sheer pleasure. And partly in the water, with Joyce sitting against the rim of the tub, Emily turned her head sideways so she could keep her face unobstructed while using Joyce’s breast as a pillow. “I hope today was very special for you, Emmy. I love you so much, I want to wish you a very happy birthday.” Not a sound was heard, other than the bathroom fan, and the slight stirs of water. Joyce could feel Emily’s arms squeeze a little bit tighter around her, and her head nuzzle further into her chest. Then, she heard it. “I love you too...Mommy.” So not to disturb the moment, Joyce brought a hand to her mouth as she winced, and her eyes blurred with tears. Emily could feel herself be hugged tighter.

Awesome! It's constantly a back-and-forth issue for me, making sure I don't lean too heavily on the conservative side, as well as progress things too fast. Hopefully what I'm doing is believable enough. Thanks for commenting! ? Don't worry about it. The kind words and vivid reactions are plenty! Thanks!

Whoops, you might not like where the next chapter goes then... It's coming real soon, though! I felt one more chapter was necessary before we reached that point. You'll see what I mean. Thanks! Glad to hear the kind words. Thanks for commenting!

16 - Messy Milestone A small, crestfallen whimper escaped Emily when she could feel a hot spurt escape her bladder, and soak into the inviting, thirsty pad taped around her hips. Trying the best she could to relax her breathing, the pitter-patter expanded into a river, as she started to flood her diaper. She stared off into space as the tingly feeling trickled in her nether regions, acutely aware of the raging battle in her pants; the struggle of her pee trying to pool whilst the diaper absorbed it. Strangely enough, she imagined it like pouring a bucket of water in the sand. At first there would be a tiny pool, but the dry, dry sand would eventually drink it all away. And in its place would be a much heavier, squisher form. Without even realizing it, the corner of a crustless sandwich nudged the edge of her mouth. She looked over to the culprit, and of course it was the only other person in the kitchen. “There she is!” Joyce cooed like it was a game of peekaboo. “I was afraid my little Emmy was petrified!” “S...sorry...I...I just…-” “Didn’t you ask for half of my sandwich?” Obviously jumping over Emily’s words, Joyce interjected with a stern voice. “This little guy still has two more bites to it, and I expect them to be coming from you.” Emily, blinded by her own embarrassment, didn’t notice Joyce’s tactness and tried to press again. “But I just...” The words kept failing her, and her verbal shortcomings frustrated her even more as she shifted in her seat and felt the diaper squish. “There’s no need to talk about it, silly,” Joyce spoke soothingly; not to express her own annoyance; far from it. It was all to calm Emily’s nerves. “We’ll take care of it when we need to. What happens down there is my business when I decide it needs to be addressed.” It was never a tone to belittle Emily, but to help shift any responsibility she might unnecessarily feel was hers. It was Joyce’s job to shoulder all the negativity, and in return for Emily to be her cute little self. “Besides, what kind of mommy would I be if I needed my baby girl to tell me whenever she needed to be changed?” As her role was further defined, and responsibility for her bladder relieved, Emily blushed harder, muttering, “Then how will you know…?” “Mommy’s intuition, naturally,” she spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, figuring the sixth sense was a given. Though, truthfully, it wasn’t like any of Emily’s diaper habits were discrete. Joyce hated to exploit them, but even if Emily didn’t tell her what was going on, the muffled gasp or minor whimper was often plenty enough to tell what was happening. Whenever Emily seemed visibly distraught out of nowhere, it was likely the state of her diaper that was contributing to it. And now that Emily wouldn’t be directly helping her out anymore, Joyce’s eyes briefly trailed to the crotch of Emily’s diaper. She’d have the liberty of conducting some real diaper checks, now. “So now let’s review,” Joyce ruffled the top of Emily’s head. “Who’s in charge of your diapers?” “...You are,” Emily meekly replied, her mouth contorting into an awkward, flustered smile. “And when you use it, you…?” “Do...do nothing?” Emily answered with a slight bit of uncertainty. “Bzzz,” Joyce sounded her error and crossed her fingers into an ‘X.’ “Wrong, my baby girl. You’re supposed to keep having fun!” Emily technically was right, but Joyce considered it another chance to reinforce positive feelings. “The only thing you need to worry about it having fun, and enjoying Mommy’s snuggles and love!” she eagerly rubbed their noses together, and sparked embarrassed giggles from the girl. “Oh, but, I guess you do have an important job...” Joyce spoke with a sudden look of realization, like she’d forgotten something important. “What’s that?” Emily answered with mild, yet genuine curiosity. It was conflicting to seek that sort of stimulation; legitimate responsibility while still trying to act like a baby… But, it was pretty obvious the two weren’t on the same wavelength when Joyce finally revealed, “Mommy needs affection, too, you know?” With an exaggerated expression, she looked to be someone in desperate need of love herself, and though she was joking, Emily still started to feel a new sense of frustration as she couldn’t free herself from the chair to hug Joyce. Annoyed, she swung her legs, trying to at least fire her love like projectiles to the matronly figure instead. Joyce then closed the distance again, but while staring Emily in the eyes, grabbed her fidgety ankles until they stopped moving. “Eat your lunch, then we can talk about getting you out of there.” Not waiting for a response, Joyce picked up the crustless sandwich and slipped the better part of it into Emily’s mouth. And as if she had to instruct the process every step of the way, Joyce continued to jokingly explain as she motioned, “And then we chew...” she lightly tickled the bottom of Emily’s chin, nearly causing the girl to choke in a giggle fit, clearly infectious as Joyce fought hard to look serious too. “T, then swallow,” she muttered, as if trying to hide the laughter on her face. The rolling ball in Emily’s throat announced a successful, and blissful bite, and there was only one more to go. A small amount of fruit remained too; all of which was Emily’s portion, but Joyce was finally feeling merciful as she stole another cube for herself too. With enough coaxing, Emily did finish her food, and the rest of her juice. Satisfied, Joyce unlocked the tray after cleaning her up. And right before Emily could scamper off, Joyce halted her with a quick, “Just a second, hon.” Walking over to her confused girl, considering she’d already wiped her face clean, Emily’s heart skipped an awkward beat as the crotch of her diaper, hidden by her onesie was suddenly pressed closer to her groin, namely because Joyce’s hand was in the middle of feeling it. Emily had moved her mouth, but no words came. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, you know?” It wasn’t something Joyce wanted to see in particular, because truthfully Emily was even cuter when she wasn’t and just falling into the natural flow of things. And as she pulled her hand away from the warm diaper, her face was filled with tenderness and compassion, and the diaper slightly crinkled as the heavy bulk of it suddenly sunk back to the ground, though stopped partway by the onesie. “Maybe in a little bit,” Joyce answered the silent question gleaming in Emily’s eyes, turning back to the sink while she wiped her hands with a dish towel. And given that she’d just been told not to, Emily didn’t make as much as a comment. Not spokenly, at least. The final step to Joyce’s cleanup was refilling Emily’s bottle, and she walked back into the living room to find the girl lounging about the couch, seemingly with little regard for the diaper around her hips; happily displayed for whoever might sneak a glance. “Okay, so what are you feeling up to now?” passively, she tickled the bottom of Emily’s exposed and lazy foot; a mistake Emily would regret right then as it shot away from Joyce’s reach. “We can go back to coloring, playing games, stuffies?” None of it sounded too exciting to Emily right now. Stuffed animals called for more creativity than she had at the moment, and such a high level of coloring like she did before was too draining. Really. Being a toddler wasn’t easy. Joyce could read what was going through Emily’s head as it translated to her face, so she asked, “Maybe some tv? A movie? We could always get bath time out of the way...” Her last suggestion lingered as if she were thinking about it right then. “But, I think it’d be better to do that after dinner.” “Uhm...tv?” Emily asked for confirmation, but Joyce snickered when she slipped the bottle into her mouth, as if a sign that negotiations were finished. “Tv it is.” Joyce walked by the couch where the playmat used to be, grabbing one of the few puzzles she left out. Scooting Emily closer to the edge of the couch, she assumed her position as the bigger spoon and held her charge close. “But we’re not gonna watch too much, got it? Too much tv is bad for you.” Emily almost groaned, but the whole scenario was too wonderful to disobey over something so tiny and insignificant. Curiously, she also eyed the puzzle in Joyce’s hands, who looked to be fiddling with it herself. Joyce turned her eyes from the puzzle to the staring girl, smirking. “Think you can be my special helper?” Quietly, but with childish confidence, Emily nodded her head assuringly. It was certainly a struggle not to smother Emily constantly. Her forming mannerisms and overall attitude as the Emmy Joyce loved equally as much as her more grown-up counterpart were slowly taking shape, and they were all such encouraging signs. It told her everything they had done, and likely were going to do would be magical, and nothing but sweet, pure ecstasy for both of them. With one arm wrapped around Emily’s waist, Joyce used the other to keep herself propped up; giving herself the perfect view of the tv, and her little tinkerer trying to crack the code. Unfortunately, it was feeling a whole lot like last time, and Emily could feel herself wanting to defer to Joyce’s aid already. It was a mess of metal rods with balls fused into them, looking so intricately assembled, yet upon closer inspection finding just how much of a mess the combination was. Simple and pretty from a distance, challenging and intimidating up close. The longer she spent on it, the less calculated and logical her attempts became. Before she’d inspect how a part was threaded into the rest of the jumble, but now she was just giving everything random tugs in whichever direction possible. And she knew that as soon as she gave it to Joyce, she’d make it look so easy; do the things Emily could not so effortlessly. Her power was limitless, and Emily’s own paled in comparison. But with that in mind...it was all the more reason why she should be confiding in Joyce… “Now come on,” Joyce coaxed in a lightly disapproving voice. “I know my little girl is smarter than that,” she leaned back up so she could fit one of Emily’s hands into each of hers. “But I don’t know what to do!” Emily explained, slightly annoyed once more by being told she could do something she knew she couldn’t. Then again, wasn’t she able to meet Joyce’s expectations last time? Coloring suddenly felt like eons ago. That’s what a nap and lunch could do to a person… “Okay, come on,” Joyce gave her a quick kiss on the head. “No more pouting. Now with all these puzzles, there’s a pattern,” she started to pull her hands apart, and by extension, so did Emily’s which were holding a part. Of course nothing budged. “See? I told you-” Emily started to ramble, but was politely silenced, though she didn’t expect to be muffled by her pacifier. The banana taste was nice, but she was a little ashamed to admit that she had forgotten where it went… Another factor she needn’t consider… “And I told you,” Joyce chuckled, “give me a minute, okay? I’ll admit, sometimes for these puzzles I try randomly too. But, it works the same way as the last one, remember?” Trying to recall their first time doing this, Emily envisioned herself sitting between Joyce’s legs, tinkering with an older logic puzzle, and then of course deferring to Joyce for help. But how did she do it? Why did it matter? They were both totally two different puzzles. Maybe even different manufacturers. Taking Emily’s silence behind the pacifier as an answer, Joyce continued her explanation. “You’re half right. Yes, you pull, but what you really need to do is,” letting her hands do the talking, they pulled again, only with a bit more rotation this time. Twisting. Pull and twist. “Pull and twist.” Suddenly, there was much more give to one of the complex metal pieces. It didn’t come out, but it certainly felt like a significant step was taken, and Emily felt like a fool for not realizing the trick any sooner. These puzzles made her feel dumb, and she suddenly didn’t like looking bad in front of Joyce. Seeing this entire venture as a whole new avenue to express her stupidity, Emily dropped the puzzle to the floor and nuzzled back into Joyce. Slightly frowning, Joyce called Emily’s attention when the pacifier was slipped from her mouth and she no longer had an excuse to not use her words. “Why did you stop?” She didn’t sound angry, or expectant for Emily to continue, just concerned about the reason. “B...because it stopped being fun...” Emily answered in a way that made her to be a terrible liar, because even she knew that those words were hard to believe. “And why did it stop being fun?” she rubbed Emily’s shoulder, who seemed to be choking on yet another bitter pill. Although meekly, it was almost strange how easily Emily could let the truth flow out of her. When answering to Joyce, at least. She truly was her rock. Nothing slipped past her, and she made everything better. “Stuff like that makes me feel dumb...and, and I don’t wanna look dumb to you...” “Honey,” Joyce spoke in a neutral voice; caught between mommy-mode and Joyce the tender lover. “Do you really think I’d judge you over a single puzzle?” The silence lingered for a moment. “Do you?” “N...no...” The answer was obvious, but irrational thought still reigned supreme. “I just don’t want to feel inferior.” It was a difficult, and complex desire. She couldn’t exactly be Joyce’s peer when she was having her diapers checked and drinking from a bottle. Not that Joyce minded, and hopefully Emily too. This was a specific kind of inferiority Emily was feeling, and it was in the intellectual sphere. “You’re not inferior,” Joyce stressed. “If anything, you’re the one with all the power!” The claim bewildered Emily, and truly did confuse her. Where were they right now? Doing what? Everything within sight was all on Joyce’s dime! The only thing Emily could call her own was the few cubic inches inside of her head, and even then she was practically leasing it out to Joyce at this point… “Remember what I said? Your happiness is my happiness. When you’re sad, I’m sad. And when you feel troubled,” as if to match the mood of the word, Joyce said somberly, “then so do I.” “But...” desperate to find a counterexample, Emily it was conflicting to find her well of thoughts turning up dry. “But what? When we have adult conversations, you’re more than mature, respectful, kind, funny, and loving. What about that is inferior?” The question she ended it on was partly genuine. “And when you’re able to become a sweet, baby girl like this for me? That’s nothing but to show how strong you are.” “S...strong?” What an oxymoron it was. “Yes,” Joyce confirmed, “strong. Being able to recline yourself into such a wonderful mindset and enjoy such...different things from the norm. And to do it all for me? I’m the one who’s grateful to you, Emily. You’re willing to show me the most vulnerable parts about yourself, and I’m willing to do the same for you. So when we expose ourselves like this, how does that make either one of us inferior? Does it make me lesser to be your mommy instead of your girlfriend?” “No...” Her logic never seemed to fail, and the coming conclusion did make sense. It nearly put a smile on Emily’s face. Joyce always knew how to make things better. “So then why would it be any different for you to be my baby? It’s a sign of mutual trust, Emily. We love each other enough to drop our guard; be ourselves. Why should we feel worse because of it?” “Because...” then she realized, she had nothing meaningful to say. Nothing that’d be sunk in mere moments by Joyce and her limitless arsenal. “I’m sorry...” “For what?” Joyce lightly rubbed her back. “It’s important to talk about these things, because now we can make them better. Whenever you want to talk or share what’s on your mind, I’ll always be here, okay?” With a small noise of satisfaction, Emily nodded her head. “Good. Now,” Joyce leaned over, picking up the puzzle Emily once discarded. “Let’s do this one together. Mommy doesn’t remember the instructions on this one too clearly, so I think we’ll both be struggling...” To her pleasure, it earned a giggle from Emily. For the next two hours it’d be the noises of a tv in the background, small talk, and small clinks and clacks of metal. “Hey Joyce, how big is your office at work?” “Hmm… Well, I suppose it’s somewhat like the office we have here, but maybe a little bit bigger. Why?” “I dunno...” Emily’s voice trailed as she worked on the puzzle. It was just simple and baseless curiosity. Joyce was left with lingering ideas though. It made her giddy to think about bringing Emily into work; being able to show her off to everyone. Under what lens though? Obviously as her partner, but…she’d be lying if she said she didn’t wish she could show off her adorable side, too. The company did have a bring your daughter to work day. Maybe then it’d be a good excuse to show her around? Then she chuckled, imagining the confusion they’d cause. Everyone would think that she was bending the rules, and they would be correct, but wrong at the same time. “Speaking of work,” Joyce added, “have you heard from yours at all?” “Sort of...” Emily glumly replied. “They said we’d be receiving some news either tomorrow or Sunday. I don’t know what to expect...” Sure, the unofficial vacation was nice, but being out of work for so long, longer than even last time wasn’t sitting well with her. “It’ll be fine. Everything will work out in the end.” Joyce continued to soothe her, though, tried to keep her personal opinions on the reserved side. She already had certain ideas about what “temporarily” closing an entire department might entail. For Emily’s sake, though, she would stay optimistic. And she meant it when she said that everything would work out, one way or another. Emily stayed quiet, watching the tv for a few moments, then visible shock crept on her face when she felt it. A pressure. A force. A small movement, or rather, a push. It was coming from the last place she wanted it to. The one forbidden spot; even worse than the bladder. Her bowels. She was just about to excuse herself, but then she realized where she was, what she was wearing, and who she was with. It was a helpless cause, yet the thought of what Joyce would inevitably force on her scared her to no end. Joyce could already pick up on her slight and awkward shuffles, though, asking, “What’s wrong?” Emily’s mind raced a mile a minute, thinking how she could answer such a dangerous question. It potentially defined life or death. Her mind must have been solving quadratic equations in rapid succession, whilst deciphering the ancient texts known as Joyce’s personality while she computed a suitable answer; mentally reviewing all their past exchanges to have her personality figured out down to a ‘T.’ She had probably skipped over discovering the meaning of life itself just to find what words might keep Joyce at bay. And then it came to her. A godsend, words of wisdom, and divine will comprised into the vocal form. Intellectually enriched, and enlightened, she had discovered her profound words which Joyce could not bear to disobey, defy, or question. “Uh...uhm...nothing.” After the slight crinkle and squish from standing up, she excused herself. “I...I need to check on something.” Truly profound words. “Emmy...?” Joyce leaned over in her spot, watching the girl disappear into the hallway. She was more perplexed than anything else for the first few seconds, seeing how unusual this was, but a sneaking suspicion was growing on her. She stood up and followed. Meanwhile, Emily clasped her hands on the knob of the bathroom door, and as she twisted, the knob did not. Stunned, and trying to save herself from a breakdown, she helplessly turned the metal knob over and over, hoping that the locking mechanism would show mercy and let her through. Panicked whimpers escaped her as the sense of worry and distress only seemed to make the pressure on her bottom feel worse. The worst part was she already expected this. She knew Joyce like always had taken the necessary precautions, and this time would be no different than the last. Well, it would, though the only thing different would be what she was doing in her diaper. It was the worst imaginable scenario possible. A hand reached from behind Emily and it sought out her own. Knowing full well who it belonged to, Emily became sorrowfully limp as it handled her. “Please...” All she got as a response was a hug. “I’m sorry, honey, but not this time.” “But…!” Emily spoke with desperation; stuck in a frenzy with what time she had left. There was nothing she felt capable of doing other than skipping straight to the inevitable. Why torture yourself and watch the water rise than just drown yourself from the start? Tension certainly wasn’t good for the muscles, because she was feeling the strain grow on her by the second. It could have very likely all been in her head, but that didn’t discount from how real it felt right now. The need to go. Maybe it was but a second later and Emily was back to tasting synthetic fruit. It didn’t exactly clear the clouds and chase the storm away, but it at least gave Emily a roof to put her head under. There wasn’t much Joyce could do other than employ all the comfort techniques she knew for Emily. This wasn’t going to be easy, and she knew that, but she could at least try and soften the blow. Emily slowly sunk to the floor, still supported by Joyce’s arms whilst she tried her best to come to terms with an absolute fate. “I know, I know...” Joyce cooed, even if she really didn’t, but she took a fair guess that Emily was too distraught to really call her out on that. “The first time is always hard, but I know you’ve made it through to the other side each and every time. This is no different.” While she spoke, Joyce had turned Emily to face her. Emily had moved to take the pacifier out of her mouth, but she was stopped. “Hang on, I want you to be nice and comfy, okay?” Genuinely frustrated, Emily looked at the ground with a sense of bitterness. This was the last thing she wanted! It was her birthday! So why did this need to happen? It all came as a package. There wouldn’t be any cuddling and kisses without the messy parts too… She hated how literal the saying started to seem now… Keeping in mind what Joyce said, she did try her best to stay comfortable. She was being comforted by someone she deeply cherished, was dressed in a soft fabric, and...and was tasting the pleasant flavor of banana… “You know, it helps to have a friend, too?” Suggestively, Joyce added while behind her back she produced a familiar face. “Pihp?” behind the pacifier, Emily questioned. The ovular mochi shape was unmistakable, as generic and nondescript as it was. Granted, that was exactly what made him so unique. His synthetic smile stared back at Emily, and although reluctant, she was suddenly warming up to Joyce’s comfort strategy. Trying not to wince as her diaper squished, she leaned forward to take Pip from Joyce’s hands. Suddenly holding him tight, all she could do was look at Joyce, standing over her with rays of affection. Joyce rested her cheek on her hand, trying her best not to fawn too much over the sight. There she was, her little girl sitting on her knees, sucking on her pacifier, dressed in a onesie and holding her new, fluffy friend. It pained her to know that this was all for something even more significant though. She looked all buckled up for something that would certainly be more intense… “N...Now whaht?” The worst was that there wasn’t any magic Joyce could use to make what was to come any less worse. The sweet, relatively unperturbed innocence on her face wouldn’t last forever, and Joyce was the reason because of it. It was in times like these when it felt like she was kicking a puppy. The way Emily stared at her, it was complete, genuine trust, and Joyce was about to drag her through the mud. Like she told Emily: the first was always the worst. “...Now you do what you need to do.” It went easy through the ears, but not down the throat. Again, a window of freedom. She had complete control over her fate, and the only way she was going to pass her bowels was if she did it of her own accord. There was something oddly reassuring about something bad being done to yourself by someone else’s hand. At least then you had an excuse to claim no wrongdoing. You played nothing more than an involuntary role in the deed. But this was different. This was all done by Emily. It rocked her core to an uncomfortable point knowing she’d have no one to blame but herself. How was she even supposed to start? In a strange, strange, very strange way, it almost felt like she was coloring again… No matter what comparison she tried to make, it was as confusing as it was jarring. It was like peeing...but out the back? It was like she was on death’s door; pushed to a brink where she suddenly had a sixth sense. She could feel it inside of her; this mass, waste, demanding to be released. Waiting to be caught and contained by her diaper… She hugged Pip tighter, and her breaths started to pick up the pace. The gravity was setting in fast, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. “P-please, d-dohn’t mahk me!” Her pleas muffled and slightly slurred around the teat. “I need you to trust me, sweetie, okay?” Looking emotionally pained herself, Joyce leaned close next to her. Emily continued to quiver, and suddenly shake as the answer she was desperately searching for wasn’t anywhere to be found. “B-b-but, but...” “Once you’re done, we’ll get you changed right away, okay? Like it never happened,” she ended it on a content beat, and smiled a smile with the utmost confidence. Emily could already think of a few ways to continue the verbal gymnastics, but they knew who would win in the end. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. Nothing other than push. How she could even push herself this far was one of science’s greatest mysteries, or at least one of her own greatest conundrums. Joyce was the much better one at reading these things, but she’d certainly come far… It felt wrong. It felt like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Something irreversible. Like she was ripping a steel beam right out of a skyscraper. Everything about this had no objective logic. She was tearing herself down for the sake of someone else. Yet even with that in mind she still wanted to follow through? It pushed against her backside like a rude and intrusive guest. The shift in gear was obviously far too much for her body, seeing as her bowels were having just as tough of a time as she was accepting what was going to happen. She grunted, and her face felt hot. From Joyce’s perspective it was red. Not the embarrassed kind of red, though. Clearly she was physically strained. She stood slightly off her knees, whether it was out of necessity or to prevent squishing from the aftermath… She couldn’t do it. She tried and tried, but her body seemed dead-set on refusing her selfish desires. And that made her feel horribly conflicted. Feeling a bountiful joy that both she and her body were like-minded in their adultness, but also downright terrible for not being able to meet Joyce’s expectations. The idea of disappointment was enough to suddenly pop a screw, because she nearly gasped when she could feel just the smallest bit slip between the barrier defining what was inside her body, and what was the outside world. No! No, no, no, no, no, no! There wasn’t a porcelain toilet waiting to receive her mess, and that’s what scared her the most. It was inconceivable to think it was going anywhere else, in her pants no less. To her own dismay, she didn’t stop, but she stared either intently at Joyce for some form of support, or off into endless space. She probably was shredding through the pacifier with how hard she was biting into it, and Pip must have been two pieces by now with how hard she hugged him. Her cheeks were wet, and they were only becoming more damp by the second. It was all a jumbled mess of confusion as she kept pushing on her bowels, and more and more the mess was starting to poke through. She had already crossed the threshold. There was no turning back now. It was all or nothing. And suddenly, the raging fire within her was rained upon by a heavy, yet wonderful shower. It tickled her ears in the most euphoric way possible. Arms wrapped around her shoulders, and she was pressed into the soft, familiar bosom of her dearest. The hums sang like the melodies of a goddess through her ears, and the sweet, gentle smells reminded her of peace and serenity. It was so sudden and so powerful, she forgot what had her so strained for just a moment. To forget how her bottom shook, fighting to release something so vile and disturbing. Something that tarnished and corrupted her mentality as an adult and grown woman. The best way to explain the feeling is like pushing a big boulder up and down a hill. On the way up, the process is tiring, straining, exhausting, and taxing. It takes everything you have to just set the ball into motion, but once you reach the top, all control leaves you. Gravity takes care of the rest and it slips from your grasp, whether you like it or not. It picks up in speed, and the momentum accelerates to a frightening pace. So fast that it’s over before you can even realize it. A long, uninterrupted gasp mixed into a sigh left Emily’s chest once it hit her. Rather, once it left her. She had stretched her sphincter to such a point that her body squeezed the rest out unaided. The poo left her so fast she nearly had a double-take. Even if she wasn’t proud, the relief she felt from finishing the grueling task was wonderful. Her diaper though felt dreadfully heavy, and her bum felt hot, like there was something close to it radiating heat. Probably because there was… What bothered her in a still shock-induced state however was the size of it all. Of course she couldn’t tell how big it really was, but it was enough to just creep between her legs, feeling the muck shift around inside of her. In unintelligible murmurs she trembled all over, as the smell reaching her nose suddenly reminded her why she should feel so mortified right now. She’d finally done it. The one last thing she never thought she’d ever do, and she’d done it. She truly was a baby. If anyone thought otherwise, they need only refer to the current state of her diaper. It made her feel awful, clearly outshining the tiniest bit of pleasure from satisfying Joyce. Speaking of which, what was she-- Emily’s head slightly reeled back once Joyce’s lips with such force pressed against hers. It was so powerful that Emily’s weakened thighs finally gave up, and her lower half collapsed. This was the last thing she wanted to happen, because she was forcibly sat on the ground. Her eyes widened once her bottom hit the ground--correction, her messy diaper. It squished and squelched, and Emily was there every step of the way to feel it all creep and smoosh. The kiss was wonderful, but the consequences not so much. Joyce looked a tad bit shocked too, but she was still clearly riddled with enthusiasm and pride. Once again, she derived so much joy and pleasure from Emily’s infantileness, but the girl was beyond overwhelmed. She didn’t know how to fully react, other than regard herself with complete and utter disgust. But once she found the words, she was suddenly a quivering mess, both literally and metaphorically. Her mind started to waver heavily, and her body all over felt extremely drained. Part of her could almost slump over on the floor and fall asleep right then. She wanted nothing more than to lean into a nice, big, soft cloud. And yet the sensation of a wet and messy diaper was too much to handle. Her lack of total expression was probably to express just how broken she was right now. She felt disconnected in some way. She was present, sentient, and capable of comprehending things, yet she wasn’t capable of any more than that. “Ch-change?” With only one word in mind, Emily look desperately at Joyce. “O-of course!” Hurriedly, Joyce stood Emily up and took extreme caution to help the wobbly girl back to the nursery. Each step was shaky, and she could feel the mess hang in her diaper heavily. Each step seemed to have charged some consciousness back into her, because she grew more upset with each and every footfall. By the time she was walking on the carpet, she was using Joyce for more than just physical support. The whole way, Joyce was sure not to skip out on the positive reinforcement, because lord if she needed it more than ever now. Before she even set Emily on the table, she undid the snaps to her crotch, and the diaper now unrestrained slumped a little bit lower. Emily could only whimper as it happened, and her nostrils contorted and squinched from the unbearable odor. Joyce was probably bothered by it too, but she gave no indication whatsoever. “I want you to know how proud I am of you,” Joyce stole another kiss from her, then pulled her in for one more hug. “W-w-wait,” tearily, in a thick voice Emily tried to stop her. She didn’t want to be smothered when she felt like this. She’d only feel worse. Joyce ignored her pleas though. “No, I don’t want to hear a word of it,” Joyce spoke firmly, yet looked just as supportive. “Emmy, I’ll love you no matter what. Whether you’re messy, wet, clean, sad, angry, embarrassed, or happy, that’s not going to change how I feel. You can tell me whatever you want, but that’s still not going to stop me from cheering you up.” Emily’s vision grew blurry as she was helped onto the table. She nearly gagged when the mess was spread once more upon sitting down. “Besides, you did the hardest part!” Joyce spoke with an upbeat, encouraging tone. “If you need to cry, I want you to do what feels right. Whatever makes you feel better. But just keep in mind two things. One: it only gets easier. It won’t be as hard as it was this time,” and maybe she could passively work on making it easier, too. Anything to ease the stress on Emily’s part. “And I will never, ever, ever, ever judge you for what happens. You might think that this is your fault, but I promise it isn’t,” she spoke as if it hurt her to think Emily felt that way, which she did. “It’s what’s natural. I wouldn’t expect anything else, okay? It may sound strange right now, but I want you to find comfort with all of this. I want to grow closer to you Emily, as your partner and your mommy.” Emily tried her best to smile and nod, but it was difficult when she was sitting in her own mess. The request was certainly strange indeed, but the idea of growing closer was almost always an immediate yes. Still, she wasn’t sure how she could get used to messing herself… That seemed like a definite no. Something impossible. And yet, Joyce always seemed to prove the exact opposite… She could only let out a sigh, the first unashamed one all day, namely because it had nothing to do with expelling something from her body. Instead, it was Joyce undoing the tapes and pulling back the front of her diaper; allowing the cool air to touch her skin. It felt like centuries had gone by before she could feel the rest of the surrounding atmosphere once again. Even with the strap over her, she could lean forward the slightest bit to see what was going on, and unfortunately she caught a glimpse, and a whiff. If she thought it was bad when it was contained, it was pure liquidated hell now. She couldn’t understand how toilet water masked a smell so well compared to poop being just on its own, but the odor was downright unbearable. What had her nearly faint was seeing just the smallest amount of brown tinge in the diaper snaked between her legs. She did that. It was her mess she made. A grown woman. Messing herself when she was perfectly capable of using the toilet. Before she could look any longer though, Joyce pushed her gently back down. “I don’t want you looking down there one bit, missy,” Joyce tutted disapprovingly. “Only Mommy gets to work down there, got it?” Her dominant assertion over Emily’s private parts actually made her giggle, surprisingly, considering how much turmoil she’d just been put through. She knew it was probably to protect her own sanity, and she was willing to go along with it. “Just lean back on your comfy cushion, okay?” Joyce brushed a lock of Emily’s hair. “Look at Mommy instead of the silly old diapie.” She shined her pearly whites with a gleeful smile. “Don’t I look pretty? Huh?” Before Emily could clearly react, a rush of tickles attacked her left foot. Squeals escaped her as she tried to wiggle, but it only made the mess she was sitting in worse. Thankfully Joyce realized that too, and the tickles stopped much faster than they usually would. “Ready to be clean?” Meekly, Emily nodded her head. During the change, Joyce’s nose had an involuntary twitch here and there, because truthfully the smell wasn’t so pleasant to her either. But it was all part of the package. She wanted Emily at her best times, as well as her worst. She’d be there every step of the way to make it all pleasant, and if not that, then bearable. Besides, someone had to keep her baby pretty. Wipes were applied liberally and even when Joyce was sure not a speck was left on her bottom, she ran through the motions once more. “A..Are you sure it’s clean?” Emily asked nervously. She’d hate to be trapped in a new diaper just to get it dirty again… She felt clean, but it’s not like she could say for certain. Then she suddenly yelped when the cold hand using the wipes took a playful squeeze as her bare bottom. “Clean as a whistle, and cute as a button!” Joyce snickered. “Anyways, I’ve been keeping that tush waiting long enough. Let’s get you into something clean.” A new, clean diaper was suddenly produced, and Emily was actually thankful to smell the powder rather than her own poop once again. She could for the moment regard her diaper simply as cushy and soft underwear. Nothing else. The strap to the table was undone and she’d been set back on the ground. “Alrighty, free to go!” Joyce clapped her hands together, as if she were to send the horses off to the races. “H...huh?” Awkwardly, Emily’s eyes gestured to her near-naked self. All she was wearing was a diaper, and Joyce planned to send her off? Joyce either didn’t see what she was getting at, or tactfully played dumb. “What’s wrong?” “Can’t I wear something? Maybe the onesie again?” She started to grow sheepish, asking for such childish clothing. “I think I want you to get used to just your diaper,” Joyce spoke simply, not so much as disturbing Emily, but throwing her into a senseless stupor. “What do you mean? I don’t wanna be naked!” “Remember you said you wanted me to have more control? I think this is what’s best for you right now,” she gave a reassuring kiss. “Besides, dinner might be messy, and I think you look cute right now?” Her casual tone made Emily’s heart skip a beat. Not only had she exercised the absolute rule Emily extended to her, but she so nonchalantly put Emily in her place. Put Emmy in her place. Unwilling to protest any further, looking intently at the ground, finding the puffed crotch of her diaper impossible to notice, she nodded her head. “Attagirl.” Emily with red cheeks looked back to Joyce, and suddenly felt caught off guard. It was the same look as before. Joyce’s eyes had narrowed, and her eyelids had lowered, as if she were trying to focus her view on her prey alone. She took a seductive approach; the steps of a creeping cougar rather than an affectionate mommy. Emily nearly gulped, and she was strangely excitedly ready for an intense and passionate kiss. Then what shattered such an intimate moment was when her diaper crinkled heavily, as Joyce gave it a fun squeeze. Looking back to her, the fire in her eyes had died, and Emily felt off-puttingly cheated, as well as embarrassed. Emily puffed her cheeks annoyingly, and Joyce merely giggled and spun her out the room. “Mommy’s a meanie, huh?” Her teasing even earned a smirk from Emily. “First she won’t let Emmy wear her clothes, and now she won’t give her kisses.” A finger tracing her spine then sent shivers down Emily’s naked back all over as the nail just touched the surface. “You go have some free time, okay? I’ll only be a little bit. I need to make sure there’s a ride for mom and dad tomorrow.” Walking down the hall, Emily yet again felt another need to cover up her chest, but the notion felt so useless around Joyce. She’d seen her naked time and time again. The efforts at this point seemed wasted. There wasn’t anything left to protect, and maybe it made Joyce happy seeing her like this… Emily was trying to find a way to enjoy this all, and in many degrees she really was, but she also wanted to please Joyce too. Alone in her office, Joyce picked up the phone, already dialing the number in mind. Again, she hated bothering staff near or during the weekend, but it was an unfortunate necessity. She sighed not out of annoyance of others, but precisely because of herself. To anyone other than Emily and family, it was just business, but she respected timely boundaries as well. Work should overflow as little as possible. Being a CEO may cause those rules to bend a little, but she made up for it in the countless other benefits along with it. The phone beeped silently for a few moments. “Charles? I’m fine, and you? That’s good to hear,” during the brief paused, she slightly pivoted in her chair, moving the mouse to her business computer, bringing the tower to life. “I’m sorry for calling you at a time like this, but would you be available tomorrow for a few hours?” Of course he’d say yes, but honestly Joyce wish he’d refuse. Charles was one of few workers she held with high regard. Probably because he worked so closely with her. She didn’t like to impose. “You will? Perfect. I’m sorry about taking up your time like this, you’ll be compensated, of course.” A sudden smile crept on her face. Not from Charles’ compliance, but something else. Something far more adorable. From the angle the camera was facing, her monitor gave her a live feed of the next room over. Propped on the couch, A practically naked Emily occupied herself with the ongoing tv. The light from the monitor slightly brightened Joyce’s own face, and her joyful expression. What really tied it all together though was her posture. Laying across the cushions, she laid her bare chest on top of her stuffed toy, Pip, and looked mildly content with what she was doing. It was everything Joyce wanted, and hoped it would someday be so for Emily too. There would be such a wonderful mix of both adult and infantile moments. It wasn’t even Joyce’s birthday, but it might as well have been. She felt so selfish, deriving pleasure from Emily’s big day. The only thing that kept her happy was knowing that it was mutual. And besides, she knew Emily would never let her feel sad. If only it could go on like this for longer… Her brief moment of thought was chased by the reminder of why she was calling. Why this moment couldn’t carry on into tomorrow. “Thank you again, Charles. I’ll send you the details soon. It’s an airport pickup for my parents. Have a good night. Bye.” The phone beeped, and Joyce set it back into the receiver. She had to call her mom one last time to verify the details, but other than that her business would be finished. She happily watched Emily for a few moments longer, only able to pry herself from it by reasoning that the faster she worked, the sooner she could stop being a spectator and become a participant. She was already wanting to cuddle with her little Emmy again! The emotional frustration though only made her heart flutter even more. Quickly, she dialed the last few digits. . .. … “Mom? Is that you? Hi, so I just wanted to...” The story's not dead! Promise. Will respond to comments soon. Sorry about the lateness! Please, as well, let me know your thoughts. I read all the comments, and appreciate them to no end! And again, just give me a little bit, and I'll give you all proper responses. Really, I can't thank you enough for the support and concern over the story's continuation. But just to be clear, it IS going to keep going. (I promise, not an April Fool's joke)

The Babysitter “Hannah!” her mom promptly called from downstairs, “Aren’t you gonna come and say goodbye when I leave?” “Yes, Mom!” back with just as much volume Hannah responded. Letting out a small sigh, being forced to put her phone activities on hold, and dreading for who was going to take her mom’s place for the night, she padded her naked feet across her carpeted room and into the hardwood halls. Descending the stairs, she could see by the front door her mom; dolled up in a navy blue dress, blonde hair decorated with curls, face with light amounts of makeup, and a pair of matching heels. She wore a simple silver-chain necklace, and was currently busy with the earings she always wore to match it. Each step of the way as Hannah got closer to the bottom, she could feel the slight shift in her underwear, and the small, yet noticeable bulk from her thicker than average underwear. It almost made her teary-eyed remembering just a few nights ago how far she’d fallen. Underneath her loose shorts, she could sometimes feel the elastic bands brush against her skin, and oh did it make her skin crawl. “Do you have to go out tonight, mom?” there was a tinge of whine in Hannah’s voice, and given what she could expect from tonight, it was well-justified. If it were within her power to prevent her mom from leaving at night, she’d do whatever possible. “It’ll only be for a little bit, sweetie,” her mom consoled, yet still busy looking into the mirror. “I promise I’ll give you a kiss goodbye, and one when I get back tonight,” her next statement was enough to get her to look at her daughter, though, “but don’t think that means you get to stay up.” Not only did she frown because her mom had no intentions of changing her plans, but also because Hannah had the pleasant reminder of her bedtime. 8:30 was such a cruel and unfair time to be sent to bed. It was when all the good shows started to come on! It wasn’t like this always. Maybe a month ago her mom used to be so much more lax compared to now. But now, Hannah already started to feel annoyed remembering the laundry list of unfortunate occurrences. And when she shuffled her legs, the plastic garment between her legs really threatened to bring back all her deep-seated hatred. Everything in her life had been fine. No bedtimes, no babysitters, no belittling, mandated bathtimes, child locks, or any other sort of thing that would defy the typical routine of a 14-year old girl. And especially, no pull-ups. “Can’t I have a later bedtime, please? Everyone else in my class can stay up until 10!” It was an exaggeration, and she didn’t really know how long everyone else could, but at least for her closer friends, she knew for a fact they didn’t get sent upstairs at 8:30. Hannah had tried to negotiate removing the limit altogether, but her mom had been hardwired to shut that idea down altogether. The best Hannah could try now was to mitigate what felt like her permanent losses. The cause of all this destruction and despair would be coming to watch her tonight, and like a calamity she never didn’t bring some sort of even worse development along with her. Since her last visit, Hannah’s mom had suddenly become relaxed to the idea of timeouts in the corner. For an eighth grade girl! It all started with the earlier bedtime, but originally it was 9:30! Then that damn babysitter, whatever she did, convinced her mom to not only give her one, but then knock it down by an hour! She didn’t even know her own mom anymore. She did, but it felt like Hannah’s mom was a proxy when it came to raising her daughter. The emotion was all there, but her rationale...it felt chillingly displaced. At times Hannah felt like she wasn’t seen as a 14-year old in the eyes of her mom. Certainly not when she’d been demoted to pull-ups full-time. It was another permanent life-changing act completely out of the blue, and seemingly taking place after the babysitter’s visit. And what scared Hannah even more was when she felt like she actually needed to depend on them. A few weeks earlier there wasn’t so much as an issue with her bladder whatsoever. But all it took were a few visits from the neighborhood teen, and Hannah was starting to feel...scarily uncertain about her own habits. Especially in class nowadays did she feel her newly weakened bladder strain the most. There were days where she was fine, and felt like a girl who had known panties for all her life, and was certainly misplaced in the underwear department. And others? Other days...she wasn’t so proud to admit that her pull-up wouldn’t be so dry by the time she reached a toilet... Some of her teachers were terribly restricting about letting students to the bathroom, but that never used to be an issue. Never until now. Never until her mom started hiring that woman. It all felt supernatural; the presence of her babysitter being enough to flip Hannah’s entire life upside down. She knew it was ridiculous to think that way, but the coincidence was almost terrifying… “I think 8:30 is a perfect time for you,” nonchalantly, Hannah’s mom like at many other times dismissed her plea. “I don’t want you staying up so late, anyways. You need your sleep, honey.” Using the only tool she had left in her arsenal, and one she hated more than anything to acknowledge, Hannah said, “B...but if I could stay up later, maybe I...maybe the chance of me wetting the bed would be smaller?” As the words came out she grew more and more meek, as well as embarrassed. This was one of the worst effects. With her pull-ups and unexpected bladder troubles, a certain absolute at night had become the bedwetting. A few weeks ago it was maybe once or twice a week. The next, it had upped itself to a steady three. Now? Now even Hannah knew going to bed without protection was non-negotiable, and expecting to wake up dry was wishful thinking. There wasn’t a single night left where she would wake up dry. And even if there was, her mom would probably write it off as a fluke, even if she would try and sound encouraging. Her mom merely looked sympathetic; signing how she was going to disappoint her daughter further, saying, “That’s an interesting idea, sweetie, but I don’t think the bedwetting will stop if we let you stay up later. Then you’d be tired, too.” Hannah’s cheeks burned, hearing her mom write off the bedwetting as a hopeless cause. But even if it were true, what else could she hope for if she didn’t fight? If she didn’t show some form of resistance, her mom’d probably think of it as the greenlight to stick her back into diapers! The sudden irony in her thought had her biting her lower lip in aggravation, though. For the daytime, that is. “Speaking of which,” her mom started to apply another light layer of lipstick, “I should probably pick you up another package of Pampers while I’m out…” she seemed to have made a mental note. “We’re starting to run a little bit low, and unfortunately your daytime pull-ups just won’t do the trick at night,” her voice trailed as her own appearance was clearly at the forefront of her mind, whilst her daughter felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Yes. She wore nighttime diapers. Her mom had taken advantage of the girl’s smaller than average size by using the largest size of Pampers they offered. What was even worse was the fit of the dreaded things. It was near perfect. They did their job well, and it was never a fun morning to see a yellow and discolored Elmo greeting her after a departure from pleasant dreams. She often stirred in her sleep, so somehow it was a common occurrence to partway slip off her pajama bottoms in her sleep, and sure enough showcase a liberal amount of her diaper while she slept. Hence why she stopped going to sleepovers as of late. Mornings were never fun, because not only was she guaranteed to wake up wet, but she was powerless to do anything about it. Her mom insisted on having exclusive control of her diapers, because she needed to know if her bedwetting “was improving or not.” But even from there she extended her personal control into the daytime section as well. Right after being let out of her diaper, it’d be straight into a pull-up her mom was sure to have ready for her. The gradual lack of control she was having over her own clothes was beyond annoying, and she had no idea how to solve it. How to solve any of this. “Can’t we please start using pull-ups instead? Nighties? Don’t they sell those?” in a desperate cry, Hannah tried to at least curb the infancy that was gradually increasing in her life. “They do, but not as cheap for what I can get your diapers for. And what’s wrong with those? Do you not like them?” “Of course I don’t like them!” Hannah continued to whine, a few tears in her eyes. “I’m not a baby, mom! Could you at least treat me like you’re supposed to?” Her mom’s brows furrowed, but she still never looked from the mirror. “The diapers can stop as soon as the bedwetting does,” her mom said, dimissing Hannah’s comment about disliking them. “But until then, I think you should be much more grateful that you can still fit in them.” As if she were supposed to appreciate a benefit exclusive to her mother’s pursestrings. She wanted to openly fume, but knew that her mom might suddenly be willing to dish out spankings now, too. Hannah didn’t want to test that theory, and angrily sulked on the stairs, feeling the slight press of her dry pull-up whilst she sat. “Can...can we at least change babysitters?” Again, totally oblivious to Hannah’s inner struggles, her mom questioned, “And why would we do that? I think Mary’s been doing a great job with you. You two have fun, don’t you? She always has good things to say.” Sure she did. Maybe for her mom, and how she could be a “better” parent her daughter. But for Hannah it was stupid. Whenever she’d come over, they’d talk about girl stuff, makeup, fashion, watch movies...eat a tasty dinner...play games… . .. … Okay, so what? Maybe she was alright. But god if she couldn’t be condescending sometimes! She reminded her so much of her mom now, or maybe it was better put as the other way around. It was partly why she suspected the girl without any real reason. Hannah was a young adolescent, but at the same time in Mary’s eyes just another charge she needed to look after. The sudden potty reminders that came with her demotion to pull-ups was beyond demeaning, but unfortunately more helpful than Hannah’d like to admit… “Listen Hannah,” her mom full turned from the mirror. “I know things have been tough lately with your potty training,” potty training? “but that’s no good excuse to vent in other ways. Mary has nothing to do with what’s been going on, and from the sound of it has been very supportive. You’re lucky to have a babysitter that doesn’t mind checking your pull-ups and putting on your nighttime diaper.” Oh how much a matter of perspective it was. Her mom could not even begin to imagine what it was like to be a kid, and try to live your life while being acknowledged as a toddler. And aside from all that, including this pointless conversation, Hannah still found herself hung up on the strange, and misplaced “potty training” remark. “Think you can chin up for me tonight and be good for Mary?” In a thoughtful voice, she spoke as if she assumed herself to be sweetening the pot. “Tell you what: be a good girl for Mary tonight, and keep that pull-up dry for the rest of the night too, and maybe we can talk about getting some panties back in your dresser?” As if instinct commanded, Hannah’s ears perked up at the sound of the last few words, though hating to have loved the thought of getting her panties back. But it was painful to remember she’d lost them in the first place. It was yet another shameful tactic of her mother to eliminate any “unnecessary distractions.” Hannah hadn’t known what it was like to wear underwear any thinner than at least an inch for almost a month now, and the thought welled her with despair. She was ashamed to admit that the deal sounded enticing… That being said, Hannah still hadn’t forgotten her mom’s previous comment. “But Mom, what did you say about-” She was interrupted by the ring of a doorbell. “Oh! She’s already here!” quickly dismissive of Hannah’s question, she already went for the door. “Is it really that time already?” her mom muttered to herself whilst Hannah rose from her seat on the stairs and followed behind. Her heart sunk as she knew who it was. The one she had such mixed feelings for. A caring and seemingly genuine person, but someone Hannah considered to be the root of her problems for no identifiable reason whatsoever. She’d been coming for so long, it was almost hard to distinguish whether the problems started before or after her arrival. “Mary!” “Ms. Finn!” The pair welcomed each other with happy greetings as they gave each other a hug. “You look beautiful, Ms. Finn!” happily commenting, the babysitter brushed part of her own black hair back, simply in awe at the mother’s appearance. “Really?” she looked thankful, and she looked down at herself one last time. “I was almost afraid I messed up somewhere along the way...” The two shared a laugh, and then Mary looked past Hannah’s mom, directly over to the shorter girl, mouthing a silent ‘hi’ with a gentle wave. A sudden chill crept over Hannah, or an odd sensation the very least. She assumed it as cold, namely because it felt as if all the warmth inside of her had just been drained. Drained, and...and absorbed…? Wordlessly, and lacking concern for her surroundings, Hannah pressed her hand against her crotch, and was more than displeased to find it warmer than a dry pull-up should be, and it was hardly a small accident by any sense of the word. Hannah did her best to grit her teeth and hope she could take care of the mishap unnoticed. “We’ve already been through the routine so much, I doubt there’s much need for a repeat,” Hannah’s mom chuckled, skipping the nightly introduction, much more upbeat and cheery than Hannah and the state of her pull-up. Mary, who looked to be the epitome of preppy senior high school girl, giggled in response as she probably felt the same way, but was far too polite to agree, nor state it first. She had her usual purse slung over her purple sweater, and swayed her hips the slightest bit, probably unintentionally, though all captured by her snug-fitting jeans. “But if you could,” Hannah’s mom started to sound apologetic, yet pleading, “please make sure Hannah gets to the potty on time?” on cue, Hannah could feel her dignity being shattered at that very moment. Mary listened intently, with just as much concern plastered on her face, yet coupled with much more confidence and assurance than Hannah was feeling right now. “It hasn’t been getting much better lately… I made a deal with her, and we’re both looking forward to seeing her make good on it,” she looked thoughtfully back to Hannah, who was trying her best to not be too agitated. “No problem at all, Ms. Finn,” Mary continued to smile. “I usually try to get them on the potty about every half hour. Even if they don’t know they need to go, it might help them realize in the future.” Them. It was such a vague word, yet far too inclusive than Hannah would like. It encompassed all the countless bedwetters and struggling daytime goers who had yet to fully master the potty, and Hannah had just been lumped in with them. Even if it was true, she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Mary came from a good place, but it still hurt no less. “Speaking of which, there’s no harm in checking now, I suppose...” catching Hannah of guard, her mom so casually knelt down in front of her, grabbing her shorts by the waistband and giving them a simple tug after a quick stroke with the button, easily slipping past the sleek pull-up, giving both her mom, and Mary an easy view of her borderline infantile underpants. “Uh-oh,” Mary was the first to sound sympathetic, and say it with a face as if she herself could feel the pain, “looks like you forgot to go, Hannah...” Hannah’s mom could only let out a small sigh in disappointment as she further embarrassed Hannah by giving the crotch an inspecting squeeze, which only seemed to upset her further given how warm it was. The telltale stars on front had faded; a system both her mom and the babysitter were far too experienced to not recognize. “And we just talked about this...” passively, her mom remarked. Hannah, unable to do much about her growing sobs now, stared at her mom, hopeful for forgiveness in place of the public embarrassment she’d just been forced into. “Could I please have a...” Hannah paused to sniffle, “a second chance?” Her mom smiled, but not in the way that Hannah wanted her to. It was the smile any parent would give when they were trying to soften the blow. There was a cruel fate hiding behind her mom’s expressions, and it was obvious because Hannah could tell she was trying to protect her from it. And with few places to go; few steps left until total babydom, she quivered at what might be in store for her. “Maybe we can try tomorrow,” she took a moment to hoist Hannah’s wet pull-up back into place, and the shorts came right after, despite normally being the first one to suggest getting her changed into a new one whenever this sort of thing happened. And unfortunately, it did happen more than once. But this time, it felt as if Hannah had taken another step back, and her mom wasn’t feeling so prompt to stick to the potty training regimen anymore. “But...but mom…!” She always had her get changed whenever she’d wet her pull-up, even when she was right about to leave! But that second command didn’t follow, and Hannah could feel herself wanting to desperately cling to her pull-ups now; prove that she could keep them dry. Hannah wanted her mom to get mad; angrily change her into a dry pull-up. At least that way she’d know that her mom still held expectations for her. Yet...yet, they never came. “I need to get going now, sweetie. Just...just don’t worry about this for now, okay?” She kissed the broken Hannah on the forehead. “I want you to have a fun night with Mary.” Still, Hannah felt like her mom had lost a fragment of hope; respect for her daughter, as she stood back up. She gave her daughter a pensive, lingering look for a few moments longer, then shifted her focus. “Same as usual, Mary,” Hannah’s mom transitioned back into her happy self again, now that it wasn’t about her daughter’s failed attempt to keep her pants dry. “8:30, and in a nighttime diaper, please.” Still all smiles, Mary assured her yet again, and then her mom grabbed her purse sitting on the table near the door. “Come on, Hannah,” Mary politely suggested in a hushed tone, gesturing to the sulking girl. “Mommy’s leaving! You need to say goodbye!” As if her mom were in agreeance too, she made the awkward ordeal even easier by getting on one knee again with open arms. Hannah was the one to close the distance, despite being terribly mindful of the wet bulk between her legs, as well as how it wasn’t much of a secret anymore. It wasn’t massive, but it was certainly there, and Hannah could tell, much like her mom and Mary could. Hannah was actually thankful for the hug and kiss, because it felt reassuring in spite of what’d just happened. Her mom had been disappointed, yet at least this way Hannah still knew she loved her… Though, what Hannah did her best to stomach was when she was wrapped in her mom’s arms, she could feel the back of the waistband to her shorts and pull-up being tugged at now. “Mom…!” flustered, unable to properly react, Hannah could only tearily whine the culprit’s name, and be relieved once her underwear finally slipped back into place. “Sorry, sweetie. I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any surprises in the back, either.” She let out a small laugh; the kind that was trying to force an already bad situation into something more upbeat. But for Hannah, it was just another insult to her pride; a sign of how far she’d fallen in the eyes of her mother. In the eyes of herself. Never once had she messed herself, and even amidst all this turmoil, that was the one thing Hannah was positive would never happen to her. It was an iron absolute, and she’d be damned if someone suggested otherwise. Her mother already expressed her doubts by checking in the back… It made Hannah feel terrible. It hadn’t even been a whole 15 minutes and she’d shattered the expectations her mom had set for her. The ones that were meant to last the entire night. With her final goodbyes, Hannah’s mom wished them both a good night. Mary saw her off as she slipped out the door, and the responsible teen was sure to lock the door from behind. As soon as she left, Hannah felt as if a weight had been both simultaneously lifted and dropped on her shoulders. Her mom had finally left, and the lingers of disappointment in the room didn’t feel so potent now. But on the other hand, she was now alone with the mysterious anomaly which seemed to unintentionally cause so much havoc. It was likely paranoia, but Hannah still couldn’t shake the strange feeling… And when Hannah moved, she could feel one last small spurt of pee escape her; a likely remainder to the full wetting she apparently hadn’t finished. It was enough to remind her of her helplessness though, as tears started to silently roll down her cheeks. The much more chipper Mary turned from the door after watching the mother’s car leave the driveway and was stricken with concern as she saw Hannah devolve into a miserable mess. “Hannah? Honey, what’s wrong?” quickly she came to the girl’s aid, although much to Hannah’s dismay, as she tearily noted the girl who was a mere handful of years older than her used such a condescending pet name. But even in spite of all that, it did little to shift the focus of Hannah’s tears. “Because!” Hannah frustratingly spat, feeling a small urge to stomp her foot. “I can’t do one simple thing! I’ve been wearing these stupid pull-ups for weeks now, and it’s only getting worse!” The vocal admittance only made Hannah cry harder, as her world came crashing down. Her mom was probably busy thinking how she could ease her back into diapers right now; do away with the hopeless struggle between panties and pampers altogether. “Hey, hey...” Mary continued to sooth as she started to rub Hannah’s back. “Why are you being so hard on yourself?” “I’m not supposed to be wetting my pants, Mary!” Hannah irritatingly shouted. It wasn’t Mary’s fault, probably. It’s not like she put the pee in Hannah’s pull-up for her, but she didn’t feel in the mood for pointless consoling. Words wouldn’t make this better. Words wouldn’t keep her pull-ups dry. “It’s just a small hiccup, that’s all,” seemingly unbothered by Hannah’s annoyance, she pulled the girl in for a hug. “I know you’re gonna get over this, trust me. I’ve seen it all the time.” Sniffling, Hannah responded, “re...really?” “Of course!” with a more positive tone, likely seizing the opportunity to make the sun shine once again, Mary responded with enthusiasm. “In fact, I know some kids that haven’t had trouble with just peeing, either...” leaning in close, Mary shared her encouraging gossip. “And even those kids were able to bounce back,” she leaned back, as if the invisible spectators were allowed to hear now. “So I know you can too!” “But...” Hannah was listening with inspiration, but the reality of her mistakes was still much more tangible than her hopes. “But my mom…! You saw how she reacted! She probably hates me right now. How is she supposed to trust me if I can’t last 20 minutes?!” “She might be a little upset, sure,” Mary conceded, but was quick to not let the negative statement last for too long, by adding, “but she still loves you very much. Nothing would change that.” It was only her babysitter saying those words, but they felt oddly reassuring… “I just want her to treat me fairly again...” sadly, Hannah spoke with better days on her mind. “Nothing I say seems to get through to her anymore.” Hannah grimaced already from remembering the diapers debate. “Well, you know I have a way with words?” temptingly, Mary spoke with the slightest amount of hopeful mischief in her voice. “Really?!” Suddenly all-ears now, Hannah for the first time that night clearly stared at the teen with genuine hope; rays of salvation shining in her eyes. Mary hadn’t explicitly said she’d do anything, but her allusions were far too obvious to not assume. “Sure, why not?” Mary smirked, knowing full well she’d just coaxed her happy charge back out of a dreary spell. “I can let your Mommy know it was one big fluke, because it was, right?” she looked at Hannah for confirmation, who nodded her head until it was ready to fall off. “I think she’ll understand after I let her know what a good night we had. Because that’s what we’re gonna do, right?” again, although slightly more reluctant, Hannah agreed once more. And as a side note, Hannah was once more attentive to her babysitter’s mannerisms, this time being the mention of “mommy” instead of a simple “mom.” Strange, but not nearly enough for Hannah to say anything, especially when this was the person who could finally talk some sense into her mom. “Great. Then that’s what’s gonna happen!” Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Mary tickled the center of Hannah’s palm with the nail of her thumb; something she always liked to do. Giving her skin the tickles though, Hannah quickly pulled hers away, as it’d already given her arm goosebumps. “But before we kick the night off, do you wanna get into something a bit more dry?” trying to be mindful, Mary notioned towards Hannah’s wet pull-up. Blushing, Hannah silently agreed. “I’ll meet you upstairs, then,” she patted Hannah affectionately on the head. “Give me just a few minutes?” Hannah didn’t wait long after until she was already headed up the stairs. She was more than capable of changing her own pull-ups, but again, her mom had made it a point to limit access to both herself and Hannah’s babysitter. In that regard it was the one silver lining to these things. They could slip off as easily as they came on; just like panties. But whenever her mom put her in her nighttime diapers, they were staying on for the night. That’s what made some of the earlier nights especially frustrating. She’d wake up feeling the tight stretch on her bladder, only to be forced to wet the diaper because her mom wouldn’t let her take it off. Last time she did it ended in a timeout, and no phone for the day... Hannah could only sigh in relief now that she had someone on her side for once. It’d always been a one-sided battle, but not anymore now that Mary was with her. Maybe...maybe she wasn’t so bad after all? Mindlessly, Hannah slipped her hands into her front pockets as she felt as if she were on cloud 9 right about now. Things were finally going right, and all she needed to do tonight was relax. And she did. Far more than she would have liked. A sudden rush of pee slithered from out of her bladder, and unannounced it pooled into her pull-up. Just at the top of the stairs, Hannah gasped in a panic as she was helpless to stop her second accident. She felt worse with every ounce her underwear absorbed, and nearly screamed when it became clear she’d pushed the thing far beyond capacity. The dribble slapping against the hardwood sounded like a jet engine once it leaked through her denim shorts and collided with the ground. Frozen in place, her face contorted with shame as her body finished its business, and she became a spectator to her own bladder which had a mind of its own. What...what happened?! She barely felt anything at all! And didn’t she just wet? So why was it already happening again so soon?! “Hannah?” Mary’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs, already getting closer. “Do you have a pull-up ready?” Still silent, Hannah’s mind raced a mile a minute as she couldn’t even begin to figure how she was going to get out of this one. Much worse, she’d probably just guaranteed that Mary would be backing out on their deal. Even Hannah couldn’t blame her. She wanted it to be a fluke, but this was far too coincidental. The front of her shorts and around the legs were harshly dampened, and there was a small puddle of pee sitting on the wood. Even in front of the light mix of brown and orange wood could she still see the distinct, yellow tint. “Okay, let’s get you all cleaned...up…?” Mary started her sentence with a casual tone, but it quickly morphed into confusion as she rounded the corner on the stairs to see Hannah planted awkwardly on top of them. There was one small, final drip from the edge of her shorts, and when it made its tiny plop with the ground, the house stayed silent. “H...Hannah...” “Why…?” the single word was simple, set packed with every negative emotion the young girl could imagine and drum up within herself. She questioned not herself, nor Mary, but fate which had dealt her these cards. Sodden and sopping, her legs were now far apart. “I just went...so why?” As she emptily murmured, as pair of arms wrapped around her neck, and hung themselves downward. Feeling the bigger girl press from behind her, the sign of affection and comfort was much too overwhelming to not have a breakdown. “I don’t get it!” between her sobs, Hannah shouted. “I can barely tell when I need to go!” Having a single accident was already bad enough, but a second one and so ridiculously soon was enough to mentally push her over the edge. She didn’t want Mary’s hug to stop, but it didn’t make her feel much better. “Hannah, please,” Mary spoke hurtfully, as if the girl’s distress were poison to her. “I want you to focus on having fun tonight! Can we please not stress over the small stuff?” “This isn’t small, though!” The disconnect between the two was now clear, given that wet pants only seemed to matter to the one responsible for them. “Everytime I screw up, my mom uses it as a reason to baby me even more!” There was no room for failure, because anything short of success meant two more permanent steps back, which is why every mishap had the weight of the world crashing on her. “Come on, Hannah, please, I just wanna make you happy again!” She spun the girl around so that she could meet her eye to eye, but Hannah looked no less sadder, and if anything, worse. She didn’t want to meet the face of someone who caught her pants covered in pee. “Go ahead!” Hannah spat bitterly, already knowing what was to follow now. “Tell my mom I wet myself again. Tell her...” Hannah’s bottom lip quivered, finishing her words, “tell her I can’t handle pull-ups...” “Hannah, there’s no need to be so upset...” Mary continued to speak in calming tones and coos, clearly involved in her efforts to make things right again. “How about...” Mary seemed to be thinking for a moment, “how about we sweep this under the rug altogether? All of tonight? As far as I’m concerned, no accidents ever happened, and we got you to the potty whenever you needed it.” It was a godsend, and it was the next best thing compared to dropping off the face of the planet; escape her irreversible mistakes. But it almost felt like she were dreaming. The deal sounded too good to be true. “But why?” Hannah’s sobs started to die down as she rubbed her eyes, “why would you do that for me?” Mary gave Hannah’s cheek a light stroke, smiling, “because I hate seeing you so sad, silly. I’d much prefer seeing you with a smile!” Unintentionally, an involuntary smirk escaped Hannah over the overflowing affection, which had Mary laughing happily. “Now come on, no more tears,” Mary spoke reassuringly, giving Hannah a few final pats. “Want some help getting cleaned up?” Mary asked, holding an outstretched hand. Hannah eyed it almost nervously, but given how accepting Mary had been, as well as helpful, it almost felt wrong to deny her any further...and she felt like she could honestly use an emotional crutch right about now. Accepting the girl’s soft, yet firm hand, they made a brief walk to the bathroom, whilst Hannah grimaced from needing to take normal strides in pee-covered pants. The added layers to it all just made it feel wrong. She was in a soaked pull-up, but on top of that so were the clothes covering it. It was like she shouldn’t have been wearing the pull-up at all. Now it just felt like an unnecessary barrier; delaying the inevitable. Inside the white-tiled bathroom, Mary stood Hannah in place. Just as Hannah was about to go for her shorts, Mary had already been working at the button before she herself could even actualize the thought. While the right to remove her own pants were taken from her, Hannah longingly looked at the toilet. It felt like she was seeing a stranger, or a long lost friend. A once well-acquainted pair now becoming more estranged with each ‘little accident’ she had. To use it was a sign of maturity, and though it was so close right now; in the flesh, it couldn’t have felt any farther away. What was a cruel reminder to dismiss the big-girl thoughts and to remember exactly why she was using the toilet less and less, was when she felt her shorts taking a brief moment to work themselves around the puffy crotch of her underwear. It wasn’t a fun sight to see, and was a stark contrast to the simple colors and plain designs Hannah was so used to seeing in normal panties. Along with the thin, breathable fabrics, flexible feel, and sense of maturity, everything Hannah had known to be commonplace in regards to her underwear had been shifted entirely. In place of her comfortably-cut panties that knew just how to maintain a level of modesty without being so overbearing, a pink pull-up decorated in moons and stars--correction, once decorated in moons and stars, now sagged heavily around her hips in place of what all her friends had the privilege of wearing. Instead, for Hannah, she was stuck with the underwear that had clearly been pushed beyond its comfortable capacity for absorbency’s sake. Hannah started to blush again being back on full display, but for the most part it was all in her head, given that she could feel no ridicule coming from Mary; just sympathy. “Step out for me, please?” Reluctantly, and while Mary still had a hold on Hannah’s wet shorts, she could feel the wet denim brush across her skin and damp inner thighs as Mary lowered them to her ankles. She stepped out of the one thing barely coming even close to hiding her shame. Maybe in another, dryer life they had done their job well, but now the wet stains on them were far too telling. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Think you’ll be good for a few minutes?” The question was probably rhetorical, but seeing as Hannah had just had two accidents within a handful of minutes between each other, she didn’t receive it that way… Mary sauntered off and out of the bathroom, with Hannah’s wet shorts in hand; the last article which shrouded her absorbent indignity. Left with only but her thoughts, Hannah could only find that by focusing on her bladder 100% did she feel any real sense of security. Although she wasn’t sure how certain it was, the next pull-up would certainly not face the same fate as this one; not by a longshot. This time with a tinge of smugness, Hannah forgot about how silly she might seem, clad in a wet pull-up, when she looked at the toilet; certain of where she’d be next time nature called. It wouldn’t be fun to be changed into a pull-up by Mary, and also make constant trips to the bathroom, assuming what she said earlier was true, but even Hannah knew that some of the tougher things in life were simply worth fighting for. She was already caught in a poor streak, and she’d do anything to fix that now. Just as she was about to start counting bathroom tiles, Mary’s distant footsteps could be heard again, and they grew louder and louder until she had returned. With a skirt, and likely a pull-up bundled underneath it, she held the items in one hand and a package of wipes in the other. Seeing the “Baby Wipes” branding on it didn’t make Hannah feel great, but reaffirming herself, she grit her teeth. If she could get through a little bit of humiliation now, she could be the mature, young adult which fate was hellbent on trying to prevent. “Ready to get all cleaned up?” Mary smiled as she looked at the red-faced girl, quickly coming to terms with how her bark was certainly larger than her bite. Meekly, she nodded her head as Mary inched closer, kneeling to the ground to have a better handle on her charge. “M...Mary?” Hannah quickly broke the silence, suddenly feeling desperate to have some sort of distraction. She didn’t feel herself wanting to take in each and every speck of what was about to happen. “Mhm? What’s up?” Mary responded with a casual tone, despite doing something so embarrassing to Hannah as she tore the sides of her wet pull-up, and the underwear for a brief moment still clung to her skin. The adhesion caused from her recent accidents still remained, and clearly feeling uncomfortable, Hannah wiggled her hips the slightest bit just to get the accursed thing off. Thankfully it didn’t take long for the motions to separate the thing from her skin, and it hit the ground with a slight crinkle and squish; one last reminder to what had been done in it. No tears. I’m done wetting myself, remember? “Wh...why do you babysit?” Hannah asked, feeling her heart beat faster as the circumstances grew more and more unappealing. She’d probably asked before, but she was too flustered to really think about the semantics; too desperate for a conversation, or an outlet for her attentions. She watched as the girl she wanted respect from changed her wet pull-up into a dry one. How could she be seen as an equal if she couldn’t even keep her underwear dry? She felt small, and as if Hannah were unconsciously looking for a reason to belittle herself further, she took glaring notes of how Mary curved all over. And here Hannah was, with only curves coming from the crotch of her inflated pull-up. In regards to Hannah’s question, whether she had asked before on a previous night or not, Mary didn’t seem to give any indication, as she answered, “Well...I suppose I’ve always liked taking care of kids, you know?” The way she ended it on a “you know,” wasn’t actually what she meant, but was a typical way of ending an answer even you weren’t sure of yourself. Hannah wasn’t keen to hear that she fell into that category right now. Needing to be taken care of. She had figured the babysitting would have stopped this year after her fourteenth birthday, but she suddenly jolted as the cold, wet wipe touched her skin. “Sorry about that, I know it’s a little cold...” Mary spoke, looking genuinely apologetic. Hannah blushed furiously as what was already happening came to the forefront of her mind. Her babysitter had a full view of her privates, and private toilet habits, and she was in charge of both of them. Hannah grimaced to herself as she thought about Mary. She was old; a teenager getting ready to move onto college; primed for handling adult responsibilities, and long past the issue of holding her bladder. She didn’t wear pull-ups, and she didn’t have to worry about wetting the bed. Well, neither did Hannah, but that was because of certain ‘protective’ measures… Almost shaking her head from side to side, just to chase the thought away, she tried to take stock in a mundane bar of soap in the shower while Mary did her work. She wanted to disobey, and insist on doing it herself. Sure, she’d never personally handled her own cleanup after something like this, but that’s because her mom never let her! It was people like Mom and Mary who were supposed to take charge, but Hannah wanted to prove them wrong. But, if she did try to protest, she’d likely only make trouble for Mary...and she was honestly trying to help. Just as she was becoming desensitized to the cold wet wipe, Mary ended it with a few last strokes between the legs, then discarded the wipe. “I probably should have gotten a towel...” passively, Mary remarked, looking around to see where they might be. But Hannah didn’t really pay any attention, because now that they’d run the first two laps, she felt confident that she could send it home. “Wait, Mary?” Hannah asked again, garnering Mary’s attention once more. Suddenly, she tried not to mind how she was naked from the waist down, but rather focused on wanting to be the one who changed that. “Can...can I put on the pull-up myself?” Mary was silent for a moment, then said,“W, well...I don’t see why not,” almost sheepishly answering, but smiled with an expression that uncomfortably told Hannah that she was hiding something. Something Hannah was afraid to discover. “But...” her voice trailed, as her eyes moved over to the skirt wrapped around the pull-up. Despite Mary’s unusual awkwardness, Hannah was already swelling with pride to finally have a sense of agency. Confidently, she made a small stride to the pull-up underneath, and grabbed it through the skirt’s fabric. But clearly the skirt was thick, because the folded pull-up within it certainly felt so. F...folded? Unwrapping the pull-up from the skirt, Hannah pulled it into clear view as she realized what was in her hand wasn’t a pull-up. Far from it. As she stared down at the white garment, all too familiar Elmo caricatures stared at her with smiling expressions. Panic had seized her voice, as Hannah wordlessly continued to stare at the diaper, in utter shock from its sudden and untimely arrival. What had it done with her pull-up? Suddenly, she felt as if she were looking at an enemy which had disposed of her treasured friend. She felt like she could gag when she squeezed the thick layer of plastic and cotton, all wrapped into a disposable, infantile package. This was only supposed to come out right before bed! So...so why? With disappointed curiosity, she turned back to Mary, on the verge of breaking into two. Now she understood why Mary had answered so reluctantly. Hannah could put on the next pull-up. That is, if there ever was a next time. “A diaper?” thickly Hannah whined. “I only wear these for bed! I’m supposed to be wearing pull-ups!” She wanted to say panties, but she at least wanted to sound rational… “I know, Hannah I know,” quick to console, Mary put a comforting hand on Hannah’s shoulder, but she still felt terrible. “But will you at least hear what I have to say? Please?” Already wiping a frustrated tear from her eye, Hannah remained silent, apart from her sniffles. Mary must have assumed the silence meant yes, because she continued. “Hannah, you’ve already had two accidents since I got here, and we’ve still got a lot of nighttime left...” the way she spoke in such an unintentionally condescending way, suggesting that Hannah wasn’t up to the challenge. “I know you want to wear your pull-ups,” she spoke as if she knew Hannah down to a T, when that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Hannah by no means wanted to wear these stupid things at all! She wanted panties, not some childish substitute! Pull-ups were at least the limbo between adulthood and babydom, and right now Hannah was having a breakdown because she was swaying the wrong way. “But I really think we should have you wear one of these tonight,” she gently removed the diaper from Hannah’s hand. And as Hannah watched her expressions, it made her want to cry even more. Despite how much evil her babysitter was unleashing upon her, all she seemed to harbor within was kindness and concern. She thought she was helping Hannah, and maybe objectively she was, but Hannah didn’t want to see it that way. If she didn’t resist, that would imply acceptance, and there was no way she’d resign herself to pull-ups; especially diapers. Irrationally hoping Mary might discard her own logic, Hannah pleadingly asked again, “But why? Why can’t I just wear pull-ups? I’ll be better, I promise!” “And I know you will,” Mary consoled, taking Hannah’s empty hand, doing the same thing she’d always do with her thumb. “Because I want you to know that I won’t think any less of you for wearing one. Think about it this way: I’m the one who forced you to wear it, so that way there’s no reason to beat yourself up over it,” she looked to Hannah as if it were a suitable solution. Maybe that idea could have worked somewhat if Hannah were 7, and the very person responsible for it didn’t give her the idea. By openly suggesting it, it was as if they both silently acknowledged it was a lie. Mary was the one forcing her, but someone or something had to have forced her hand first… Despairingly, Hannah looked at the diaper, knowing that once she was in, there was no getting out. “But what happens when I need to use the bathroom?” “Well...” Mary looked to be thinking hard, and her delay to answer felt as if Hannah’s worst fears were about to be confirmed. “To tell you the truth, you don’t have a lot of diapers left… One more, actually.” The sudden remark had sent a chill up Hannah’s spine. One more?! Did she really go through a package of 20 that fast? Maybe she really was helpless… “One more we can use tonight,” Mary added, barely doing much to break Hannah from her depressed state. “I already set one aside for bedtime.” Hannah wasn’t sure how it made anything different, other than trying to be a convenience to her mom. And frankly, her mom’s feelings were the last thing she cared about right now. “If you need to go...” Mary still looked not to be totally onboard with what she was saying, but continued, “I don’t see too much harm in taking you to the potty.” Finally, with a ray of hope in sight, Hannah looked at Mary as if she were her savior, and was all smiles yet again. “But if you don’t make it,” she transitioned into a friendly, yet serious warning, “we’re not gonna talk about using the potty for the night, okay? Those tapes can only come off so many times. They need to stay on to do their job.” Hannah didn’t even want to consider her final clause. The assertiveness she packed into the threat of permanent confinement was scary, but Hannah knew she’d never let it slip that far. She’d never fall so far as to let these dumb things “do their job.” Mary had paused to keep searching for a towel, and her efforts were rewarded once she opened the closet. Pulling one out, she unfolded it and draped it over the floor, giving it a signaling pat for Hannah to lay down. Nearly gulping, Hannah while keeping her thighs close together wiggled over, and debating whether to actually go through with this or not, she was rushed along by Mary’s firm, yet gentle hands on her shoulders. “The sooner we get started, the sooner it’ll be over,” Mary encouraged as Hannah laid her back on the towel, or rather, Mary gently forced her to. With her hands covering her privates, her feeble attempts to maintain some sense of dignity were lost when Mary once again with guiding force set them aside. This probably would have been her cue to say something like, “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” or, “We’re both girls, aren’t we?” But maybe the mind games were so deep at this point she knew that Hannah was thinking the same thing, because nothing was said. The whole process felt wrong. It was like having breakfast for dinner. Something you did every day, just at the totally wrong time. Being diapered for any other occasion than sleeping wasn’t a welcomed change, and it certainly felt strange. If she closed her eyes, which she did, it almost felt like her mom was changing her. Despite Mary only being a teen, it still felt like Hannah was being handled by a motherly figure, which she didn’t appreciate. She did, but she didn’t, namely because it widened the already decent age gap between the two. Diapering her though expanded that wedge by light years. How could Hannah talk to her about boys when she was too busy trying to keep her pants dry? Why learn how to do her own makeup when she could be taught how to change her own diaper instead? Nothing was fair, and the compassion Mary was using on Hannah to ease her into it was equally as pleasant as it was condescending and demeaning. Mary was a caretaker first, and a friend second. The change was concluded by Mary drawing the front up between Hannah’s legs, then pressing on the tapes. Normally her pajamas would come next, but in its place was a skirt. Such revealing clothing was immediately a turnoff, but Hannah didn’t bother arguing, already expecting a slew of reasons why she should be wearing a skirt rather than pants. One of the most glaring and personal ones though was that her normal pants and shorts probably wouldn’t fit over it...When Mary stood her back up, the plastic leg bands crinkled loudly. Much louder than her pull-ups. Was it weird to say that she was already missing them? “Okay, I need to go clean something up, but in a little bit how about we play a game or something?” Mary suggested, and though she made no obvious indication of it, they both knew what mess she had to clean up. If Hannah had somehow hit her head of the concrete and forgotten what’d just happened maybe 15 minutes ago, she’d certainly remember when she saw the puddle of pee going back downstairs. “Sound good?” “Mhm...” Hannah quietly answered, still trying to find her land legs; adjusting to such a massive paradigm shift in her underwear. “Don’t worry about what’s happened already,” Mary chimed in as Hannah was walking away. “I’m sure tonight is still gonna be fun!” Maybe it was, if Hannah could just forget about one of the most traumatic things she’d ever done. What made her suddenly yelp though was a light swat from behind, hitting her crinkly, yet thankfully dry diaper. Clutching the imaginary wound through her skirt as if she’d been shot, Hannah looked back at Mary with burning cheeks. Mary blinked simply with a smile, and without letting the silence linger for too long, Hannah stormed off and out of the room. It was the moments like these where her perception of Mary could change entirely. She didn’t know if she was kind, caring, or teasing and mean. For the most part she was nice, though… Maybe she just didn’t realize some of the things she did? Avoiding the puddle of pee like the plague, Hannah walked down the stairs and into the living room, hoping some tv might be able to save her from this endless nightmare. Thankfully the entertainment at least did something for her. Laying on her side, yet making sure her skirt was covering everything underneath it, she mindlessly watched the moving pictures while in a mix of thought and observation. And as she watched, the commercials, shows and noise all started to blend together. She could almost imagine a hum in the background too. It was all so...soothing. Her eyelids grew heavier as she laid there, and she closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then for a few more. Then a minute. Then five. And then, they didn’t open back up. Dozing off for well an hour, when Mary nudged her awake, Hannah, still groggy, couldn’t place why Mary looked so concerned. What was up with her? “Hannah, hon, are you okay?” “Hn? Mary? What are you…?” “I think you took a little nap...” Hannah moved while Mary spoke, and a sudden, wet, cold chill pressed against her thigh. Looking over, there seemed to be a large, dark splotch on the gray couch. No...she hadn’t. But she had. Even if it was a nap, a bedwetter is always a bedwetter… Sleep did not discriminate… “These aren’t too good for side sleepers, huh?” Mary chuckled sadly, clearly seeming sympathetic. She placed a soft hand on the drier of the two thighs, and Hannah tried her best not to sob. “Don’t worry,” Mary smiled; that same face she’d always give in the face of despair. Unmoving, inalienable positivity. “We still have one more diaper!” Looking much more somber though, she added, “But a deal’s a deal...” No more toilet. “...Can I put some on?” trying to stay calm, yet with a clear hint of desperation, Hannah asked. Normally she’d never feel the need to ask permission to put on her own underwear, but it was almost frustrating to think she didn’t even recognize them as her own anymore… “...Sure,” Mary happily answered after a few moments of thought. “A little encouragement is good every once in a while, I guess. But the diaper stays on,” still kind, yet with authority Mary added. After the diaper change, Mary talked her into a game of hide and seek. Reluctantly, Hannah agreed, given that there was nothing which would seem to put her in a good mood now… She was the hider, and Mary was the seeker. Without any real reason she chose her mom’s room, hoping to burrow herself under the bed. Though in the process of that, she found something much, much more intriguing. A seemingly simple cardboard box, upon opening it was the jackpot itself. Sanctuary. Valhalla. The equivalent of any sort of salvation, and sanctum! Pulling apart the cardboard flaps, in it was all the panties that’d been removed from her dresser. Forgotten friends, Hannah had just discovered what her mom had done with them all! The more she stared at them, the greater the desire was to have a pair around her hips. Hannah hated to think that this was a tease more than a grand return to adulthood, but staring at the pile of cloth underwear made her feel like she’d just discovered buried treasure. It was enough to make her forget almost entirely about her current circumstances, and how far she’d fallen. Settling on a pair of blue and white striped ones, Hannah stared at the pair of panties in her hands, knowing full well that they would fit her. They were once hers, after all. Bringing them to her feet, she could feel the bulk of the diaper between her legs as she slightly moved them apart. Stepping her feet into one hole, and then the other, it felt euphoric to feel the wonderful fabric slide across her legs as she drew them up. So wonderful, a tiny meep escaped her when a small spurt of pee escaped her. She had no intention of telling Mary, though. Something other than plastic leg bands were around her thighs though, and that’s what mattered the most. It would have been perfect, only until instead of slipping across her skin, pressing against her groin, the panties instead slipped over the crotch of the crinkly diaper. Obviously peeking from all ends, the white, infantile diaper overflowed from all openings where the panties ended; a harsh and morbidly humorous contrast. She wanted to feel good about wearing panties again, but the diaper which sat between her and the panties was too demoralizing. It was like her bladder was a prisoner, and her panties had been so kind as to visit her while in confinement, and the diaper like any detention center kept visitors out. “Feel good?” Mary hopefully asked, fully unaware of how Hannah was feeling on the inside now. Hannah would likely die inside if she looked in a mirror. Although it was nice to think she was wearing panties again, she probably would have looked like a poor excuse for a young adolescent right now. Probably a toddler who got a little bit too excited and thought they were ready to be a big kid a little too early. Rather than a pair of panties, you could probably call it a diaper cover that was doing a poor job… Quietly, Hannah sniffled. She didn’t think getting what she wanted would have felt so terrible. “Come on,” Mary broke the silence, tickling her palm with her thumb. “Ready to go brush your teeth?” A familiar tingle sparked through Hannah’s hand, and a strange wave of relief washed over her, coming from the hand. As if all her muscles suddenly relaxed, she felt slightly sluggish as comfort overcame her. But with it, a sudden pressure in her bowels too. No. You can’t be serious. “M...Mary, I...” Hannah tried to plead, but her body seized all over, and she was afraid to be denied on the grounds of their earlier promise. Helplessly, she could feel her body force itself into a squatting position. “Hannah, are you alright?” Hannah tried to grit her teeth, as the force was too strong for her to stop. She didn’t even try to run to the bathroom, coupled by a list of reasons. If she ran, the cramps would probably give way and she’d do it on the way over, and Mary may not even let her. The diaper’s tapes wouldn’t happily go on afterwards, and that would probably upset the babysitter further… As the unyielding force finally drew to the exit, a helpless grunt escaped Hannah as her cheeks involuntarily spread for the rude guest currently making its way through. She could hear the diaper’s backside crinkle as she filled it with poo, forcing the back of the diaper to expand. Instantly she devolved into whimpers and cries as the mess settled itself and slowly snaked from her backside into the seat of her pants, and with muddy squishes conformed to the shape of her diaper, creeping between her legs. It smelled terrible, and Hannah took exasperated breaths as her diaper suddenly felt much heavier, and clung to her skin in the worst imaginable way possible. And in the middle of her messing, the pressure hit too close to her bladder, which is why it released itself as well, but with significantly less strain. After the rush of pee finished its course, squatting in a soiled diaper, Hannah could only fall to her knees as she cried. “It...it was an accident!” desperately, Hannah tried to coherently plead through her tears, and her vision was too blurred to see Mary. She tried to remain as still as a statue from the waist down, irrationally hoping that there was some way she could be absolved of this very literal mess without needing to move. She could only imagine how comical she looked; a bulge coming from the back of her diaper, and by extension the panties she tried to wear over it. Her underwear was a living oxymoron; wearing adult panties over a baby diaper she just messed. It was all too overwhelming. Everything was crashing, and she was right at the center of all the wreckage. “Come on, honey, think you can stand up for me?” Mary at some point had taken Hannah’s hands into hers, though not doing her signature palm massage. She spoke almost somberly, yet with a likely reserved cheeriness to coax Hannah out of her worries. “If you want to be clean again, we can’t have you sitting here!” again, trying one last time to be upbeat. The tears kept coming regardless. And as Mary consoled Hannah, Hannah noted that amongst all the kind and encouraging words, not a single one of them regarded it as an unfortunate accident. Despite being in such emotional turmoil, Hannah was aware enough to know that she wasn’t being treated as a girl working on pull-ups. Quite the opposite. The way Mary eased her back onto her feet, and gave the waistband of her diaper a reassuring upwards tug, though the slight jostle just made the mess even worse. Not like it mattered, because she had to start walking--no, waddling, eventually. Now it was Mary’s turn to seem like her mom. Just like when she walked out the door earlier this night. Both of them had silently lost faith in Hannah, and she knew it was well-deserved. Even if Mary did keep her promise, the inevitable would happen with or without her influence. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. It only made Hannah cry harder when they passed the wardrobe mirror, seeing herself so distraught. Underneath her skirt was the backside of her messy diaper just peeking; possible to see because her mess had forced the diaper to expand outside the blind spot. And just along the edge she could see the pair of blue panties struggling to stay on. It was as if they were trying to abandon her, too. It was a stinky, painful waddle back to the bathroom, where Mary cooed as she did her best to quarantine the mess. Back on the towel, Mary undid her tapes, and both equally happy and sad as it happened, the weighted diaper hit the ground with a plop almost immediately. Finally with room to breathe, the diaper’s odor filled the bathroom to uncomfortable levels. It made Hannah of course well with shame, and she could even see Mary’s nose scrunch the tiniest bit, but she was no less comforting. A few wet wipes later, Hannah had finally been cleaned of the mess she made in her pants; something she had never expected to happen in a million years. “There, see? All clean now. No more messies,” Mary continued to soothe, but the demeaning language only unnerved Hannah further. Yet at the same time, it was nice to have someone there for her… “I think it’s about time we get ready for bed,” Mary spoke simply, still devoid of any real judgement, at least any negative judgement that was. “I’ll go get your jammies, so wait here for me?” without waiting for a response, Mary stood back up, but not without grabbing the pair of panties too. “Wait!” amongst her sobs, Hannah finally spoke to Mary clearly. She turned back, open to hearing what Hannah had to say. “Can...” she felt the tears coming back already, knowing she was in no position to make demands, and equally as much for adult ones. “Can you let me keep the panties?” If anything, the only consolation she could have was at least getting to hang on to a pair. She didn’t want all this misfortune to be for naught. A pair of panties couldn’t fix anything in her life right now, but it could at least make her feel somewhat better. Mary was quiet for an uncomfortably long amount of time, like she was debating whether or not to humor a toddler. Had it not been for Hannah’s factual age though, this would have been true. Then she sighed, as if it were against her better judgement. “Mommy better not see these, got it?” Mary looked back to Hannah with a warning stare, as she handed them back to Hannah, who could only cry tears of joy. Desperately, Hannah nodded her head, as Mary temporarily left the room. Desperate for maturity, Hannah eagerly drew them up her legs, disregarding her skin still slightly being wet from the wet wipes. She drew them up with such exaggeration, the sides went well above her waist and the fabric had been stretched the slightest bit, just so she could drive the point home by feeling alone she was wearing panties again. It was like a breath of fresh air; almost enough to make her forget about the messy diaper she was standing next to. Wanting to figuratively soak in them for just a little bit longer, she let go of the waistband, waiting for it to conform to her waistline and sit propper. But instead, she felt them slip down her legs, and back to the ground. She was melancholic as she stared at them, quickly realizing just what the problem was. They had been stretched when she put them over the diaper, though just slightly. Slightly was enough to break the straw over the camel’s back, though, as from looks alone Hannah knew they wouldn’t fit her anymore… The only reason they had stayed on for as long as they had was because she was holding them in place. Her bottom lip trembled as she came to terms with this, knowing the only way they would fit her now was if she wore a diaper underneath it. Even when she got what she wanted it wasn’t right. Nothing was. Like the prophecy had foretold, it was another night of despair, and she had no idea why. Mary came back with the last diaper and a pair of pajamas, as promised. Hannah hadn’t mentioned a single word of the panties never fitting, and didn’t say anything at all. Not when she was laid down, not when the diaper was slipped under her bottom, not when it was drawn up between her legs, and not when the tapes’ adhesives came into place. Mary had apparently dug deep in Hannah’s dated wardrobe, because she had a pair of Disney Princess bottoms and shirt. The last time Hannah could remember getting themed clothing like that was when she was maybe 9 or 10. Hannah didn’t argue though, because she figured she’d already given Mary enough trouble for one night. As defeated and decrepit as Hannah was, it made her feel even worse knowing it was at the expense of someone else who had to take care of her. Hannah whimpered when the pants were drawn up, because they mostly went on right up until the halfway point on the diaper’s plastic landing strip, just giving the Elmo designs a small wall to peer over, otherwise known as the waistband of her pants. “They don’t fit...” Hannah quietly remarked to no one in particular. “I think we just need to give them a little stretch, that’s all,” Mary continued to tug at the pants, and they eventually did go over, but Mary stopped at a point where the fringes of the plastic waistband were still peeking. And because she had stretched the small pants so much, the crotch visibly conformed to the bulge of Hannah’s diaper perfectly, and though she couldn’t see it, also came close to form-fitting the elastic bands around her legs too. It was no secret to what she was wearing now. The shirt was small too, but somewhat fit better than the pants did. Her belly button was never covered, though. Mary watched Hannah brush her teeth, and once she was finished, the two were already in Hannah’s room, getting her into bed. “I’m sorry things didn’t go so perfectly tonight,” Mary sympathetically smiled, but still aware of the damage which had been done. “But again, I don’t think any less of you.” She gave Hannah’s arm one last stroke. Hannah was too emotionally drained to say anything. She had been put through the ringer tonight and was likely on the fast track to diapers, if not there already. When she partly moved on her side, the crinkle coming from her bottom reminded that she likely better start getting acquainted to. But before she left, Mary said one last thing. “And don’t worry, I’ll still talk to your mom,” and on that final positive note, Mary turned off the lights, and closed the door. When Hannah woke up, it was at some point in the middle of the night, if her window was any indication of that. She peeled back the covers, and when leaning forward felt the wet squish in her diaper. It had been dry when she went to sleep, and clearly she had been too involved in her dreams. It didn’t hit her as badly as a daytime wetting did, though. Especially not a messing one. She didn’t know why she woke up, but she did want to do one thing, even in her dazed state. Still without getting out of bed, Hannah leaned over to the side, fishing her hand underneath the bed’s skirt, pulling out what she was looking for. Snaking off the pajama pants her sleepy self had fumbled with already, she drew up the new article of clothing. Now in the presence of a diaper, they were snug-fitting again, and although depressed to know how it would work only this way, Hannah thoughtfully pressed a hand to the stretched panties. Pulling the covers back up, she went back to sleep while she silently wept. “Ms. Finn! How have you been?” “Great, Mary, and you? Is the college hunt going well?” “It’s definitely a search, alright,” Mary chuckled, as if this hadn’t been the first adult to ask. “But, I’ll find out eventually.” “I’m sure you will,” Hannah’s mom agreed. “I need to get going soon, though. Think you can handle Hannah tonight?” “Think I can handle a little diaper duty,” Mary spoke confidently, snickering at the joking challenge. Hannah’s mom made an uncertain noise, as if she weren’t so sure Mary could. “Whatever you say. Whenever she messes in her sleep, though, that’s the real challenge.” Mary solemnly agreed. “The worst of it is when they squish it all around without even realizing it… Poor things.” “Anyways, 8:00 tonight? She’s got a sleepover for tomorrow, and I want to make sure she’s nice and rested.” “Will do, Ms. Finn!” again, Mary happily saluted. “And also, since you were last here, I moved Hannah onto the boosters, as well.” “Oh?” Mary curiously asked, “What for?” “The wettings have been getting more frequent,” she paused for a second. “And larger… Don’t get me wrong, her pampers work well, but sometimes she needs a little something...extra.” “Well, I think I can handle that. Saves me from at least one extra diaper change, right?” “Well…” again, Ms. Finn didn’t seem to be totally onboard with the joke, saying, “you’d think...” “Oh! And also,” Hannah’s mom spoke again, as if she forgot an important detail. “No covering up her diaper tonight, okay? I’ve been reading a few blogs, and an important part to getting her used to her diapers is by keeping them out in the open. That, and it’s better to know when she’ll need a change,” she seemed to add it like an afterthought. “Got it, got it, got it,” repeatedly, Mary assured. “8:00 bedtime, use the diaper boosters, and no pants either.” “No skirts, too,” she partly corrected. “It’s been tough, but I think she’s finally starting to get used to it.” She sighed somewhat, staring off into space. “We won’t be going back to the potty for a bit, so I at least want her to be comfortable… Look at the time, though,” she turned her head back to the hallway. “Hannah?” she called, “Mommy’s leaving! Come and say bye-bye!” It took a few seconds, but you could hear the girl coming before you can even see her, announced by the crinkly noisemaker around her hips. From a single glance, the crotch of her unobstructed pamper diaper looked a little more pronounced than it usually would. It didn’t fold in on itself, and was unusually round. Almost like there was an extra layer inside of it… Her pace was slow as she shuffled down the hall, as if trying to minimize the sounds she made with each step, while doing everything she could to not stare at the babysitter. It was the first time she looked like this in front of her, after all. Nothing had changed. Each and every time Mary came back, things somehow got worse, and this time was no different than the others. Mary silently waved with a smile to Hannah, while she nervously came closer, veering towards her mom. “...Bye mom…” They were two simple words, yet it sounded as if it took a great deal to even mutter them out loud. “Goodnight, sweetie,” Hannah’s mom spoke in a tender tone, as if she were sending a toddler off to bed. She got on her knees and before she even hugged the girl, slipping a finger in between her leg band and thigh. Hannah meekly whimpered, but stood still like a statue, almost as if this wasn’t the first time this’d happened. “Just a little soggy,” Hannah’s mom simply commented, unlike her last departure which held much more disappointment. Turning her head to Mary, as if Hannah wasn’t even in the room, she said, “She shouldn’t need a change until she goes poo. She’s usually good about that around this time.” Hannah, still listening despite being forgotten, grew embarrassingly wide-eyed at the comment, though not daring to look anyone in the eye. Mary slowly nodded her head, passively eyeing Hannah’s reaction. Hannah then received and gave her hug, but while locked in it, she felt the firm pat to her plastic backside. It was almost enough to make her cry knowing that’d change eventually, but maybe she could negotiate something with Mary… “Have a good night, you two!” Hannah’s mom ended it with a kiss to the trembling Hannah’s forehead, then waved a goodbye to Mary, closing the door behind her. As if the door shutting were a cue, Hannah fell to her knees in a sob. “Hey...hey...” Mary rushed over to her, stroking her back. “Come on, there’s no need to be sad… Did you go already?” It only made Mary cry harder, now knowing her emotional distress had now become associated with the state of her diaper. Her legitimate concerns came second to her bowels and bladder. She’d been barred from panties, and the last of the pull-ups had been thrown out. All that was left in the house for her were diapers. Her mom somehow found out she found the box of panties, and thus she tossed the whole lot into the trash altogether. That was a rough day, by far. Taking too long to give Mary a verbal response, she pulled back the waistband of Hannah’s diaper, and not finding what she expected, set it back into place. “I thought...” Hannah sobbed, “I thought you said it’d get better?” Without any real explanation, Mary could only continue to soothe her. “Come on, where’s the big girl I know so well? Diapers or no diapers, you’re still my favorite gal to hang out with?” Hannah knew it was probably a lie, but having someone so understanding, although belittling, was a genuine comfort that had grown on her. It probably all was just one big coincidence, and a happy one at that. The loss of her bowels and bladder were something supernatural she couldn’t explain, but at least the universe had gifted her Mary. She was kind, understanding, supportive, and attentive. Sure, she may have checked Hannah’s diapers and changed them, but that was her job. Hannah couldn’t expect her to not do such. What was weird though was when Mary said, “Besides, look at it this way: no need to worry about the bathroom anymore!” “H...huh?” Mary innocently giggled, as she rubbed Hannah’s shoulder. “All I’m saying is that it’s a lot less stressful now, isn’t it? I remember last week when you were still on pull-ups. That was a bumpy ride, right?” Awkwardly Hannah shrugged, but she’d much rather fight for her pull-ups than surrender to diapers. “M...Mary?” “Hm? What is it?” “Do you think we could do it like last time?” “Like what last time?” “You know...not tell Mom about tonight?” “What wouldn’t I tell her?” Mary asked with genuine curiosity, unsure of the answer. “My...my accidents? Tell her I didn’t have any?” Still, Mary looked troubled trying to decipher what Hannah figured to be as clear as day. “Hannah, honey, what accidents?” “You know!” in a teary whine Hannah complained. “In my...diapers?” “Hannah...” Mary had furrowed her brows in a sorrowful form, as she looked as if she were going to break some dreadful news. “I did that last time because you were in pull-ups. But now?” Simply, she gave the crotch of Hannah’s diaper a squishy squeeze, causing the pee to stir in it, and forcing Hannah to blush furiously. “You’re not wearing pull-ups anymore, sweetheart.” She tried her best to give a loving smile, but it was obvious she were trying to break some bad news gently. “Accidents don’t happen in diapers...” With her bottom lip trembling, Hannah’s fresh tears came back as reality set into place. “Maybe I’d be willing to hear you out if you were in pull-ups, but do you really think that’s the best for you right now?” Streams rolling down her cheeks now, and suddenly one coming from her bladder, she shook her head no. “Let’s not worry about pull-ups anymore, okay? And look at it this way,” she tugged up the front of Hannah’s sagging diaper. “No more pull-ups means no more accidents!” still hushed, Mary sounded upbeat. “Mommy’s not mad anymore, right?” It was a morbid fact, but there was some truth to it. Still, that didn’t excuse the price she had to pay in exchange, though. She continued to sniffle as Mary stroked her hair. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think you look very cute in diapers,” she leaned a bit lower to catch Hannah’s eyes in the middle of a downward gaze. Hannah looked away, still frustrated by the circumstances. She had no reason to be angry with Mary. In the end this was all her own fault. All she was trying to do was make her feel better… “Wanna go watch some tv?” slowly lifting Hannah’s chin with her finger, she looked at the girl hopefully. Hannah nodded her head, and taking the babysitter’s hand, they walked down the hall she came from. She had finally reached it. Rock bottom. Not even Mary could save her. “So you’re having a sleepover tomorrow, huh?” Mary asked, trying to change the topic. “Looking forward to it?” “I guess...” Hannah lied, dreading tomorrow night. She wanted to go, but not as she was now. The only reason she broke her golden rule was because her mom did for her. All it took was a single conversation between her mom and a friend’s, and like that Hannah had involuntarily been signed up for a night with her friends. And of course her friend’s mom now knew about her diapers, because if Hannah’s mom wasn’t going to be there, what responsible adult would be? It would certainly be a rough night. She wasn’t even sure if she had clothes that could fully conceal her new underwear. If her mom had a complete say in it though, she never would. As they were about to round the corner, a sudden cramp hit Hannah’s abdomen, knowing full well what was to come, and unfortunately just as her mom predicted. It was impossible for Mary to not notice, because she was suddenly stopped by the anchor her hand was tethered to, and turned around to see Hannah already frozen in place. The bowel movements had become so frequent now she didn’t even need to squat anymore. Face ridden with a thousand yard stare, she grunted helplessly as her bottom trembled and the back of her diaper started to fill itself. The diaper slightly crinkled as it expanded, and Mary, still holding onto Hannah’s hand suddenly stopped tickling her palm with her thumb. It took Hannah a second to even realize she was doing it to begin with. Finishing her unfortunate mess, Hannah remained speechless as she stood there, waiting for something other than the smell to hit her nose. “I’m...I’m sorry...” in a frazzled stutter, Hannah tearily tried to explain herself. “That’s alright,” Mary pat the top of Hannah’s head. “It has to go somewhere, right?” No more accidents. It was expected of her. “You head on into the living room, okay?” Finally letting go of Hannah’s hand, she gave her a suggestive push by pressing her hand against the back of Hannah’s diaper, nudging her forward, but smearing the mess in the process. “I can just change you in front of the tv,” smiling, Mary waited for Hannah to keep walking. Quietly, nodding, Hannah walked bow-legged into the living room, messy diaper in tow. Every step of the way, Mary watched her stinky charge toddle off to the room, with a devilish smirk forming a wider and wider; a bigger, toothy grin with each step. Once the girl was long gone, Mary turned on her heel and back to the stairs. Walking into Hannah’s room, she opened the drawers to her dresser, where the pull-ups would usually be, but were now instead an array of child-printed diapers. Picking one out, Mary eyed them disapprovingly. With a sudden shift in tone, as if full of mischief, trickery, and sadism, she tutted, “Much, much too thin...” With the snap of her fingers, a purple spark erupted from the tip of her nails, and the diaper in her hand started to grow visibly thicker; nearly twice in size. She reached her other hand into the bag of diaper inserts sitting plain as day next to her dresser, deciding against making it any more ‘absorbent,’ too. Expectantly, she looked around the room, checking near the wet wipes for something she expected to find, but was severely disappointed, though mostly annoyed. “Stupid woman,” bitterly, she scoffed to no one in the room. “You can’t even buy baby powder without me telling you to?” She knew she had to be explicit when she used her magic on others, but the devil in the details was always annoying at times like these… “Sorry, Hannah, baby,” she added the last bit in a syrupy voice. “Looks like you won’t be smelling so sweet tonight...” And already with a destination in mind, she walked over to Hannah’s bedside, leaning over, kneeling near the bed skirt. Lifting it up, her eyes barely scanned the area she was just seeing for the first time, and with her target in sights, grabbed what she was looking for. “Poor thing...” with both hands, she held the garment in front of her eyes, seeing the panties had clearly been stretched out. “Still getting ideas...” sighing, the snapped her fingers once more, and the garment had vaporized into nothing. Truthfully, it was Mary’s fault. She was the one who teased the poor girl. She remembered to instruct Hannah’s mom to throw out the panties, but admittedly she forgot about the pair the girl got away with. Not that they would have ever fit her without a diaper, but the last thing she needed were reminders of what she once wore and who she once was. Grabbing the wet wipes, she walked back down the stairs. Hannah probably was thinking right about now it couldn’t get any worse, and she was right. In fact, it never got any worse. In Mary’s world, at least. In her’s, it only got better and better. And there was certainly much more fun to be had. She chewed her thumb for a moment, thinking deeply, wondering if there was some way she could chaperone Hannah’s sleepover tomorrow… She looked at her thumb nail thoughtfully, wondering just how many friends of Hannah’s she could show off her diapers to… Tabling the idea altogether, she walked back into the living room where Hannah was still standing awkwardly; not even daring to sit down. She watched the tv nervously, still shivering in embarrassment. Mary watched silently with a smile, seeing the full diaper sway to and fro. But going back to the babysitter facade, her smile shifted back to a much more innocent one, tapping Hannah on the shoulder. She must have been too quiet, because Hannah suddenly jumped, simultaneously trying to turn around, but in the process lost her footing, falling right on her diapered bottom. The tv’s audio was just low enough for the both of them to hear the squish, and Hannah’s face visibly grimace and contort; mortified by the substance seeping between her legs. Mary looked apologetic as she came close, stroking Hannah’s cheek. “Ooh, I’m sorry, Hannah,” instead of helping her back up, Mary took advantage of her position and laid her down further. “Boom boom went smoosh, huh?” At this point, Hannah was at a loss for words as Mary situated her. “You know, Hannah,” Mary casually spoke as she undid the tapes to her diaper. “I’m really happy I got to babysit you.” As she wiped her messy bottom with a wet wipe, clearly proving privacy no longer existed for Hannah when she leaned in close, asking, “Are you?” Overwhelmed, Hannah, busy looking at the leg of the coffee table, tearily nodded yes. Secretly, Mary writhed in pleasure as she watched the troubled girl’s expressions. And it would only get better. Better and better until she truly had reached rock bottom. She would be cute and adorable then, but the chase is always the best part… Thoroughly breaking down Hannah was what she lived for… She was just about to massage Hannah’s palm again, then stopped herself. Personally, Mary didn’t feel like cleaning up a wet rug… She’d do it after she was diapered. The lingering effects for when she did this were far too obvious, and Hannah’s bladder and bowels were certainly taking the brunt of it. Maybe just a few more times, and she wouldn’t even be feeling the need to poo anymore, or at the very least only realize she needs to poop by the time half of it’s already in her diaper. Or maybe to really drive the point home, she could make the potty monster real. In Hannah’s imagination, at least. She’d feel safer making a mess in her pants than on a scary bowl that could grab her at a moment’s notice… Both ideas were exciting, and equally a possibility. She’d need to flip a coin on it, or even have Hannah decide, maybe? She could just mask the decision as what they were eating for dinner. It was always fun to see them unconsciously spell their own demise. The best part was even if Hannah did have any suspicions, they were objectively absurd, and it’s not like Mary was going anywhere. She’d been “looking” for a college the past three years. In the meantime, she made ends meet with her babysitting jobs. And what kids need a babysitter more than the ones in diapers? Yes. They need ones for a long, long time.

I'm really, really sorry for the late reply! I tend to be really slow with these comments, but I promise I read them! Although it's been a bit since I last posted this, what I want to do with it hasn't left my mind. Truthfully, I'm trying to iron out the specifics before I take things further, or at least post it. But without giving away too much, the more twisted Amazons will definitely be a feature. Sorry to hear it ain't your cup of tea, but I might have written something else that you'll enjoy or possibly I will down the line? Regardless, I'm happy to hear the horror bit was done well, namely because that's what I was looking for in terms of feedback. Thanks for the comment! I have some stuff here and there, but I want to work on writing some better stuff, and revamping what already exists into something I'm a bit more happy with. I'm trying to branch out a bit with what I write, and not be too confined to a personal norm or habit. In a way, I'd consider Sheltered and this to be Polar opposites. Some of my shorts are differing in varying degrees too. That being said, I'll also have fun writing stuff with a recurring theme! I had an older story that's pretty experimental compared to what else I have on the forums, but I figure it's worth a try. It's just not at the level I want it to be yet, though. Thanks a ton for the kind words, and I can't appreciate your comment enough. Hope you continue to read!

Awesome! As much as I like doing the longer stuff, these shorter pieces are always fun to do, and I'm slowly building a stockpile of them. It helps give me a break from the ones that usually have some more fleshed out stuff. I plan to be doing more shorts in the future, so hopefully I can work on improving the quality of them as I go! Whenever something like this does well though, it makes me happy to hear! Thanks a ton for the kind words! There's definitely some stuff I want to write about that Sheltered doesn't really give me a chance for. Some of the more intentionally embarrassing/belittling stuff is a little too harsh for the mood of Sheltered, so shorts like these can be the perfect excuse for them. If you haven't already, one of the first things I posted on here was "Digital Remains," and "It's Christmas, After All." They aren't exactly like this, but there are definitely some huge parallels I'd say. In advance, they're Diaper Dimension stories. The two scenes with Sarah and in the bathroom I'm glad to hear went well. If anything, I'd like to have done better with Ms. Boona in her office, looking back on it. But, I don't think I'd ever be satisfied ? Anyways, thanks for the kind words, and sorry for the late reply! Awesome! It's great to hear I'm consistent throughout! I'm working slowly on bringing back some older stuff, so hopefully I can elevate that stuff to the level I'm at now, but even higher would of course be better. Thanks a ton for the encouragement and compliments! I have a lot of fun doing shorts like these, so alongside my longer stories, I want to keep a steady pace with these! Open to interpretation, I suppose? In all seriousness, my take on shorts is to take an excerpt approach; drop into a universe or scenario with a decent/liberal amount of background that trickles in as the earlier half of the story goes. I'm definitely guilty of focusing on the moment compared to the past, but at the same time I think it can be okay to leave some things a bit more vague. Anyways, thanks a ton for the comment!

Haha, don't worry about it! It's always awesome to hear feedback and comments. The reactions are just a bonus, I guess? Regardless, thanks a ton for the kind words! Thanks for commenting! I'll try and post the next chapter when I can! I'm not sure I completely understand, but thanks! ? Happy to hear the timing pays off! Even I feel like it can be slow at times, but me sitting on it for a while probably doesn't help much either. As for a conclusion here? Hmmm... Glad to hear it! I can't appreciate the comments enough! I hope you continue to enjoy what I put out!