ImprobableLemon

The Investigation “We’re too far into this for you to be getting cold pamps now, Jess!” Sam’s arms were crossed in displeasure at me. My 28-year-old roommate’s brow furrowed. “What!? No… Back me up, I’m being reasonable.” I call out to Clea, looking imploringly at my other roommate. “Literally and figuratively your pamps are cold.” The 27-year-old doesn’t even look up. Choosing instead to remain hunched over the brightly colored plastic toy karaoke machine she was disassembling. Reflexively I squeeze my legs together and find the Rebels diaper under my skirt long soaked. Much to my chagrin. My plea falling on deaf ears, I turn back to Sam with a frown. “Look, all I’m saying is- what’s the point?” “The point!? We find out all the juicy secrets Big CG is keeping from the Smalls of the world. We’ll be heroes! Like that guy who invented the Small-Wipe Warmer!” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s literally playground rumor! All this started because you talked to Angie on the swings and she got in your head. There is no ‘Big CG’.” “You aren’t even a little curious about what Bigs do in their giant buildings all day?” “No.” Sam throws herself deeper into her pink beanbag chair. Exasperation painting her face. “Un-bee-lievable. I’ve spent a week learning how to do Big girl fashion and makeup on my Mommy! For nothing!?” “I begged my Daddy for the toy I’ve been turning into a wire.” “Yeah, Jess. And Clea begged her Daddy for that thing!” She gestures dramatically at the pile of scrap plastic and wire in front of Clea. Wanting to set the record straight, I interject. “You didn’t beg. He offered because he thought what you were planning was funny.” “Whatever, babes. Clea’s Daddy aside we’ve all done our part. You gotta do your part now. You pinkie promised!” Sam’s puppy dog eyes turn on full force. The strongest trick in her playbook. Gets her Mommy to do almost anything she asks. What’s more effective on me is that she dared to bring up the pinkie promise. A pinkie promise between Smalls is an unbreakable oath. “Why do I have to be the one to go in…” I grumble, now the one crossing their arms. “You’re the biggest Small any of us know.” Clea interjects, holding out her hand to count off each instance. “You mostly consume Big media. You drink coffee not drowned in sugar. You’re the most capable of using the potty. And most importantly you’re the least bab-brained.” She points to Sam. “No offense Sam and I love you, but she’s a ditz. She’d last all of an hour before ditching the mission to play dolls.” “No offense taken. I know what I am.” Sam declares proudly, puffing out her ample denim skirtall covered chest. Clea nods before resuming. “Even if we could make it past the lobby, which neither of us can; I can’t function without naptime. I’d never get through an 8-hour workday. They’d find me asleep at a desk- a giant puddle under me.” Begrudgingly I join the three in a nod. I don’t want to admit it, but she’s making undeniable points. She pauses, looking thoughtful for a second. Before pointing at me. “Plus, you promised. So why don’t you hop up on the changing table...” Clea stands from the desk she’d been working at for the past few hours. Her cloth diaper sagging low and stained. Visibly stretching the buttons of her space patterned onesie. The only thing protecting her onesie and seat are the plastic pants currently pushed to their limit. She looks down in surprise. Her hours of focused work had taken their toll. “Scratch that, fix me up first. I’ll get you changed and fitted after.” --- That’s how I found myself walking to my first day of ‘work’. Clea and her Daddy had put together a resume and to my dismay I’d been accepted as an intern at Big Incorporated. A conglomerate with wide reach; they have fingers in every Easy Bake™ pie. It does everything from Big marketing to diapers for Smalls. My current fit is a pair of Clea’s training pants (her Daddy lets her wear them sometimes as a treat). Sam’s Mommy let me borrow a white blouse, black pencil skirt, and suit jacket. Modest amount of makeup done by Sam. Hair done up in a Big style, upper back length ponytail with a simple black band. Clea’s wire was wrapped around my midsection, snaking up my chest. I carried a messenger bag- something inconspicuous with a hidden pocket for spare training pants. My own tights and loafers complete the look. All in all, I felt rather Big. This is the most adult I’ve dressed in years. What with being a Small and all. As I arrive at my destination I work to quash the anxious feeling bubbling in my chest. Remember the plan. Get in, do a shift, get out. We’re doing nothing illegal. If I get caught, we’re all just silly Smalls playing around. They’ll probably even drive me back to our apartment and send me on my way with one of those reception desk suckers. I hope they have blue raspberry… It’s go time. I meet the first hurdle in the form of Small detectors which separate the office lobby from the outside world. One by one the Bigs line up across several lanes to get in. All pass through the tunnels without issue. Before I know it, it’s my turn and I enter the tunnel. On either side screens light up. Colorful patterns, jingling keys, and characters I vaguely recall from my roommates favorite cartoons. The bzt of an automated audio system comes online, a soft non-gendered voice plays in my ears. “Who’s a good little kiddo?” The small hairs on the back of my neck rise. “It’s you! Oh yes, you’re a good lil Small!” I grit my teeth and continue forward through the mental assault. “You should turn around. There’s nothing but boring Big stuff ahead...” A fog on the edge of my mind starts creeping in… Just a few more steps… “Come back little one… Come play-” The audio cuts out as I step past the threshold. Not bad Jess, not bad. There’s a little brain fog- the kind you get when a Big uses sweet, flowery words on you. But I did make it through; no small feat for the average Small. Clea and Sam would’ve folded right away. Didn’t even wet my pull-up... I think. Deeper in the lobby I spot the receptionist desk I’m meant to stop at. I shake the lingering fog away and walk over. “Um, hello. I’m Jessica Dayes. It’s my first day and I was told to stop here.” The receptionist, Carol Bines (if her nametag was to be believed), quickly looks up from her computer before beginning to rummage around below the desk. “Oh yes, I’ve been expecting you. Here’s your keycard, that will get you elevator access to your floor. Take the elevator on your right to the 8th floor, go straight to the other side of the room past the cubicles, and knock on the door of James Arney. He’s your manager and he’ll continue your orientation from there.” “T-Thank you.” I stammer in surprise at the information dump as I grab the lanyard attached to my keycard and place it around my neck. “No problem, have a great first day!” The lobby had cleared out in that short interaction giving me a nice relaxing elevator ride to calm my nerves and collect myself. A necessity I was overly familiar with. Smalls like me on the lesser end of the bab-brain spectrum are uncommon. How I wish I could fully turn my brain off, tinkle my pamps, play on the swings, work my Small time job like my friends, and be stress free. At least to the degree they can… Instead, I’m fast tracked to becoming the world’s first Small to contract a stress ulcer. Yip-f-wording-pee. I managed to hold onto a sense of calm all the way to James Arney’s door. After a moment of hesitation, I knock and a gruff voice responds. “Come in, have a seat.” A relatively fit older man with greying hair and a salty peppery beard takes up the full space at a desk on the opposite side of the room. He ushers me in with a wave and I sit at one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I take it you’re Jessica Dayes. *chew* Good to have you onboard. *chew* Always happy to have new blood on the team. *chew*” It’s a struggle to take my eyes off his jaw as it churns up and down. He takes notice and tones it down before resuming with an apologetic look. “Ah sorry ‘bout that. Small wife can’t stand the smell of smoke on my suit. Trying to kick the ol’ habit with gum. If the chewin’ is ever a problem do me a favor and let me know.” “O-Oh not at all. I think that’s sweet of you...” I sympathize with his poor wife. Most Smalls hate the smell of smoke. Myself included. He smiles warmly. “Well ain’t you nice? I’d like to think I’m a good judge of character- and I like you already, kid. Let’s head over to your desk and we’ll get you situated.” As he stands, I follow suit. Blushing at being referred to as ‘kid’. “Your desk should have everything you need. We’ll let you get the lay of the land before we have you doin’ supply runs. You any good with typing? We could use a note taker for our meetings. Brian’s been doing it and he can’t spell worth a damn.” “I’m pretty good.” “Nice stuff kid. We’ll swing by and grab you before the next group up.” With the minimal orientation over, he departs as quickly as we’d arrived to my space. It’s a corner cubicle- I have someone in front and to the right of me behind cubicle walls. Thankfully rather isolated so I can breathe. I plop down in the rolling chair, grateful to be alone. With the mission in mind, I flip through the filing cabinet at my desk. Typical office supplies along with a new employee welcome package including an employee manual. Nothing groundbreaking; nothing Sam or Clea would be excited to see. Same deal with the desk laptop, the login on a sticky note stuck to its cover. Empty and app-less save for the Word applications and Teams messaging. How boring, Bigs are expected to work like this…? A twinge in my bladder shakes me from my snooping... Not that you could call this snooping. This felt less like an investigation and more like I was starting a full-time gig! If I was really careful, I could recognize the need to go. But only if I wasn’t distracted… Which I had been. I had to find a potty asap or I’d risk leaking right through this pull-up. Carefully I jump up. As quickly as possible while trying not to look like a Small doing a potty run, I potty run to find the location of this floor’s potty room. Oh f-word! Oh f-word! I’m gonna explode! Where do they keep the gosh darn potty!? As expected, it ended up being on the opposite side of the floor. A small blessing took shape in the form of an empty woman’s room. It enabled me to quickly hike up my skirt, rip down my tights, and yank my pull-up down with just enough time before the dam burst. … A small spurt made its way into my padded panties along the way. Thankfully just a lil damp. Outline still not visible through the skirt. I can deal. I finished up at the potty, washed my hands, and got back to my desk with minimal fuss. Just in time for James to pop over to my desk. “Hey kid, we’re about to meet. Going over some prototype made by the Toys for Smalls division. Bring your laptop for notes if you don’t mind.” “Ah, sure thing.” --- It was a large conference room set up with a “U” shaped desk. I sat on one of the ends, next to an employee I’d yet to meet. James sat next to a woman who was seated at the head of the table. She seemed as confident as she was scary, with a bored look about her. Sharply dressed with straight, dark shoulder-length hair, and dark eyes. Couldn’t be much older than me. Everyone seemed to be wary of her as well… Whoever she was, she was important enough to not be wearing a lanyard like the rest of us. “This meeting is to discuss the latest prototype of the TFS division. For the new faces around the table, my name is Thomas Hilford. I run the division.” A bald man in a white lab coat with thick glasses took center stage in front of the conference room. After the introduction he waves a hand, ushering two others in. They carry a display table covered in a white sheet between them. “Numbers are up exponentially 5 quarters running and we believe we need to strike while the iron’s hot. This latest prototype was built keeping in mind the latest trends in the Small market.” His assistants removed the cloth with a flourish revealing a robot doll with a round cloth pixel-like body and a screen for a face. “Following the latest trends in robotics and techno-toy engineering we present to you: Robo-Friendo.” Immediate gut feeling- I don’t like it. But I crush that down to avoid looking weird to others in the room. The assistants pick up the toy and pass it along to the first employees in the “U”, opposite of me. As it makes its way around the room, Thomas continues presenting. “Robo-Friendo isn’t just a toy for Smalls. It has been designed to be a constant companion. Capable of limited vocabulary and problem solving, it is all but guaranteed to take market share of the trend and dominate the market.” Internally I blanche. They’re trying too hard. Scary lady finally got her hands on the toy. She turns it over in her hands with an appraising look before passing it off and firing off a question to the presenter. “How saturated is the market for toys of this nature?” “There are toys that do one and toys that do the other- none that do both and none that do it as well as us.” Seemingly satisfied, she scribbles a bit into a notebook at her side. Eventually the toy reaches me at the end of the line. A part of me had been skeptical all this time but holding it in my hands I knew for sure. “Nobody’s going to play with this.” Unable to stop myself, my real thought escapes my dumb Small mouth. The room went quiet. “P-Preposterous! This is the combination of the latest trends in one design! Explain your hypothesis!” Without skipping a beat I resume, feeling emboldened by my almost instinctual distaste for the toy. “Robo toys are on the way out. Word on the playground’s that nostalgia and vibing in the moment with friends is in. They want friend-slop toys. Smalls aren’t dumb and at worst some might think this is an industry plant.” “W-Where did you hear that…?” Doubt creeps in the man’s voice. Feeling less certain in the face of my confident reply. “I heard it-“ My eyes widen slightly and my body tenses as I catch myself giving away the plot. Fortunately, I correct course with only a little stutter. “- F-From my Small sister and her friends. I-It’s all they talk about and I hardly see any ‘techie-toys’ on the playground I take them to.” A murmur of collective conscious comes over the room. “She’s not wrong…” “Now that she mentions it, I’ve noticed similar at my wife’s playground…” “Hubby has spent more time with his friends over toys recently…” “Would this be an industry plant? Is that word losing all meaning…” Scary lady claps her hands, bringing about order and silence. “It seems we’ve reached consensus that market demand be revisited. The tide’s changing and we need to move with it. That was very keen insight from you, Jessica. Thank you.” She flashes a smile my way as she writes in her book. Beside her James gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up. The praise fills me with a warm fuzzy feeling and I feel myself start to blush. I respond bashfully, scratching my head. “It- It was nothing…” --- Shortly after rank-and-file members such as myself were dismissed from the meeting. Thankfully Thomas didn’t seem to hold any grudges. Rather than that he thanked me for steering him away from a potential catastrophic failure. As he put it. Back to the safety of my desk, I was free to crash. The warm fuzzies and body tension faded away. You know what also faded away? The designs on my pull-up after the tension left my body and my Small bladder gave out. It was a wonder I hadn’t leaked. I’d need to change. F-word me. I gather up my bag and stealthily make my way to the potty room. At least until James stopped me on his exit from the conference room. “Jessica, really good work in there earlier! You really knocked them dead with your analysis of current Small demand vs the market!” “T-Thank you, glad to be of help. It really wasn’t a big deal…” “Oh? You don’t know…?” He gives me a short quizzical look before realization dawns on his face. “Oh kid, you’re new! You weren’t properly introduced… The woman that took control of the meeting is our CEO- Zoe McKinney. You made a big impression on her.” The blood rushes from my face. This is the opposite of the low profile I meant to maintain! The Big boss lady isn’t supposed to know me by name! If my bladder hadn’t failed me and my pull-up previously, it certainly would’ve now. “The scary woman…” I manage to squeak out in a daze. A small amount of color returning to my cheeks as I embarrassedly realize what I’d said out loud. James guffaws, a loud bark echoing over the cubicles. No one so much as turns a head, used to such noises from the older man. “That’s the most used word I’ve heard to describe McKinney. Don’t psyche yourself out too much, kid. She just looks scary; when you get to know her, she’s very approachable. ‘Specially for a big wig.” “I-I’ll keep that in mind… But I really need to…” Noticing my glance to the potty room, he rubs his head apologetically and heads towards his office. “I’ll let you get back to it. Feel free to send me the meeting notes when you get the chance. Keep up the good work, kid.” I nod and wave in response before urgently arriving to the potty room. Only after I’m locked into a stall do I breathe a sigh of relief (something that had happened too many times today). A sigh that morphs into a gasp as I notice the faint outline of my ‘full-up’ pressing against my skirt. Thank goodness James didn’t notice… Tentatively I snake my hand up my skirt and past the tights to get a feel for the damage. The shell’s damp to the touch. Gonna have to be careful about this. Carefully I disrobe my bottoms. Skirt and tights get hung up on the stall hanger. Then I grab one of the perforated sides and quickly pull it apart. A loud cloth tearing sound echoes in the empty potty room. “Hello? Was… Was that a pull-up?” … The potty room was not empty. Oh goodness it’s super not empty. Even worse, that confused voice is Zoe’s; she’s only a few stalls over. What the f-word do I do!? WHAT DO I DO!? Ideally the earth beneath my feet would open up and swallow me entirely. But I fear the gods are not that kind. “N-No, it- it’s just a…” As a general rule, Smalls do not perform amazing under pressure. Not being entirely bab-brained and living with a near constant knot in my stomach gave me a leg up. But in this moment my mind was blanking. Desperately I peer around the stall for something, anything. When at last I spot a dispenser in the stall that offers me a way out. “… I- Um… It’s a pad. S-Sorry if I surprised you.” “Oh, Jessica! No, dear, I’m sorry for so quickly jumping to conclusions. I should’ve known better, the sound just reminded me from my Smallsitting days.” “It’s no problem! N-No problem at all, ma’am.” “I’ll be out of your hair shortly, we’ll talk later I’m sure.” Feeling a little weak in the knees I slump down on the potty. One hand holding up the torn wing of the pull-up, and the other rubbing my temple. True to her word, in a few moments the sounds of a flush, then hands washing and drying filled the room. Finally footsteps transitioning into the sound of the door opening and closing. Truly alone I stand and rip the other side of the used training pant. It falls to the space between my feet with a wet *plap*. I scoop it up and place it on the tank of the potty to avoid it being seen if anyone waltzed in. A pack of emergency wipes from my bag gets my princess parts cleaned up, along with a puff of travel sized baby powder. I’ll feel better with a fresh pull-up. I dig through the secret compartment of the bag. My hand hits soft plastic. I pull it out. A colorful square covered in pastel crayon doodles. Thick nighttime protection ironically a product of Big Incorporated. I reach back in, another square. Pink princesses and knights and fairies and dragons. Thicker nighttime protection from Big Incorporated. Desperate, I reach back in and get another square. Black and purple flowers, intricate lace design. ‘Sexy’ nighttime protection from… You guessed it, Big Incorporated. That was it. Clea or Sam, whoever packed my back, royally f-worded me. Overcome with irritation I lean in to better speak into the wire Clea planted on me. I hiss in a hushed whisper. “God d-word it, you sent me in with nighttime diapers!” --- “God d-word it, you sent me in with nighttime diapers!” Jess’ voice crackles to life over the karaoke machine. Clea, who had been playing an MMO on her tablet, shoots up in her seat. Staring at the machine. Sam, who had been coloring a beautiful picture for her Mommy, shoots up from her bed. Staring at the machine. After a pause, Sam spoke up defensively. A whining tilt to her voice. “It’s not mmmyyyy fault…” “You told me you’d pack the bag! It’s entirely your fault!” “Well, she didn’t say nothing about not having wipes or powder, so I got that right…” Ignoring Sam, Clea rubs her face. Lingering on the bridge of her nose. “D-word. Okay. Okay. We can’t leave her like this. You know Jess. She’s gonna get a stress ulcer.” The Small woman stands up; tossing her cell to Sam before moving like a storm around the room. “You call my Daddy- he’ll drive us over and help us get in contact with Jess. I’ll pack our diaper bag with pull-ups for Jess. Special operation: ‘Padding Pass Off’ is a go.” ~~~ Thank you for reading and interacting with the post. I hope everyone enjoys the first part. Not entirely sure how many parts this will be, kind of playing it by ear. The concept came from a funny discussion with CourtJeStar The Investigation Pt 1.pdf

I very much enjoy the slow burn; this chapter in particular was a pretty big leap for her progress into regressive behavior! She's becoming quite the lil gooner. It feels like you do a good job giving everyone time in the spotlight, I don't think you have anything to worry about there

I initially read this on the Changing Mirror, and I'm happy to see it here. You've made a fantastic slow burn story which is my favorite type of abdl story. I'm very excited to see where you take it from here. If you ever want to bounce ideas off someone my DM's are always open.

Cursed Bottle I was watching TV in my room the first time it happened. *CRASH The sound of shattering glass echoed throughout the apartment. My roommate was out for the night- not scheduled to be back for hours. I was spooked as hell. A fact echoed by my nervous tip toe out to find the source of the noise. A confused sigh of relief escaped me when I found it was one of my glasses. Once pristine and sitting on the counter- now a million shards on the floor. At least there was no perpetrator skulking about. On the counter above it sat a clear purple plastic bottle. Large in size- much too large for the typical market demographic of a bottle. My name, Theo, printed along the side in pink with flower decals. Obviously, I’d laughed thinking the bottle was a funny roommate prank. And as I carefully tended to the broken glass, I’d brushed the fall as an accident- maybe I’d left it close to the edge and it’d finally wobbled to its demise. But that was 7 broken glasses ago. That damn bottle at every crime scene. --- Day 7 I could use a drink. The thought crosses my mind after a few hours of recording voicework at the desk in my room. My throat is starting to get a little scratchy. But as I look for the last glass I have left, that I swear was on my desk coaster… I spot it. The damn bottle is right there. A small notecard rests under it. In large font text: “USE ME”. In a frustrated huff I grab the bottle and stomp over to the living room. My roommate is scrolling away on her phone, sunk in the couch. “Did you replace my glass with this?” Merry’s eyes flicker up for just a moment. The alternatively dressed woman responds in a bored tone. “The baby bottle again? This stopped being funny a week ago.” “I’m not laughing either, I’m down to one cup.” “Well you’re not using mine after breaking all yours.” “I DIDN’T- Ugh…” Not wanting to start an argument where I sound absolutely insane, I return to my room. The bottle going into a wastebasket. “I’m not drinking from you… I’m no fucking baby.” I’d sooner scoop water from my hands in the bathroom sink. Something I immediately went to do. --- Day 9 Where are you? I’ve looked everywhere. I’d torn my room apart looking for my favorite panties. My most comfortable pair. They were in the laundry I did yesterday. I remember folding them… They should be in the unmentionables drawer of my dresser. Maybe I dropped them. With that thought I dropped to my hands and knees, poking around the rather clean floor. A glint of light under the bed catches my eye. “What the hell?” A pair of safety scissors. My favorite pair of panties rend in twain. The bottle standing tall next to them. The same note. “You picked the wrong person to play with!” I hiss quietly so as not to be heard by my roommate talking to myself. “…” The quiet of my room is the only response I receive. “Breaking the glasses was cute; but destroying my best panties crosses the line.” “….” “Cut up every pair I own! I’ll go out commando if I have to!” “…..” “I will never use you.” “……” “Fuck you.” --- Day 12 It cut up all my panties. The past few days I’d noticed shredded underwear hidden around the room, the bottle always close by. But this morning I awoke to a large pile. The bottle sitting atop the remains of my underwear. A new note alongside it: “HOW ABOUT NOW?” “Are you serious? That’s so much money…” Honestly that’s the part that triggers me the most. Good underwear is e-x-p-e-n-s-i-v-e. Desperate to see if anything remained, I cracked open the drawer. “WHAT!?” Unable to contain myself I shout. Top to bottom rows of training pants with a variety of kiddy designs. Flowers, brightly colored swirls, bows, etc. All disposable, all seemingly in my size. They’re Goodnites, I’d seen them in the store before. “You good, Theo?” My roommate casually pokes her head in with a raised eyebrow. “FINE! I- Uh… Mean, never better.” I shout in surprise, placing myself in front of the open dresser to block her view. She gives the pile of destroyed panties peeking past sight from the doorway an indiscernible raised eyebrow look before shifting her gaze back to me. “Riiight… Well, rent is due soon so throw your portion on the counter whenever.” “Will- will do!” The door closes behind her. I stand still a moment waiting for the sound of her footsteps to fade down the hall. Absolutely sure I’m now alone, I dash over to the bottle and squeeze it in my hand. Room temperature water spurts from the nipple, splashing my face. “I’m done, you hear me!?” “…” “And now I’m going to do something I should’ve done days ago!” I heave open the window and unscrew the bottle’s lid. The liquid waters the grass outside. Using a good pair of scissors at my desk I pierce, cut, and slash the bottle into tiny plastic shards. Each piece goes in the bin, which I immediately bag up and take to the can outside. As the lid slams shut, I proudly dust my hands. Satisfaction building in my chest. “That takes care of that.” --- Day 13 I pissed the bed. --- Day 15 I keep pissing the bed. The fucking bottle was under my pillow this morning. --- Day 16 This is unsustainable. I can’t keep washing my sheets and pajamas like this. Merry has to know, she’s seen the walk of shame every morning. She just looks at me with her unreadable expression, slurping on her morning energy drink. Feeling stupid and slightly crazed I sit the bottle on the dresser and face it while running my hands through my hair. “D-Don’t think you’ve won!” I say, already tugging my sweatpants down. “You think a little bedwetting is going to make me fold and use you…” The disposable feels crisp and firm in my hand. Nothing at all like cotton underwear. With a blush on my cheeks, I step into the training pant and tug them up. They rise high up to my belly button before settling between my legs. The padding, thicker than panties, rests awkwardly between my thighs. “Hope you’re happy ‘cause this is all you’re getting out of me. You’re out of ammo.” --- Day 17 I woke up with the padding between my legs swollen and damp to the touch. The patterns on the shell of the garment long faded in the night. But at least my bed was fine… Right…? Grumbling to myself I fish around the dresser for the least babyish looking training pant and snag a pack of wipes that had appeared overnight. The sides of the Goodnight tear easily enough, the soaked padding falling to the floor with an audible plop. Gingerly I scoop it up by the wings and throw the drooping thing into the wastebasket. I shiver as the cold wipes make contact with my lower half. After rushing through that process, the wipes go in the bin as well. A new pull-up goes on and shorts quickly cover them. Not wanting to be stuck in my room, surrounded by reminders of my current situation, I escape to the living room. Where I throw something on the TV and peruse my phone. Googling “cursed bottles”, “sentient bottles”, and other such searches… As I have for the past two weeks. All to no avail of course. Merry joins me, on the opposite end of the couch. She also half paying attention to the TV while observing her phone. After a few hours of this she audibly sighs. “Everything fine?” She asks in the tone of voice reserved for people who are asking out of a sense of obligation and not because they really care to know. “Yep, why do you ask?” “… No reason…” We returned to silence after that. Shortly thereafter she left the apartment to get dinner. And when I finally looked down from my phone I nearly died from embarrassment. A full 3 inches of crinkly Goodnight frill has been poking up above my shorts with how I’d been rolled up on the couch. Who knows how long it’d been like that. To make matters worse it was as soaked as the one I’d removed earlier. The core bulging out against the fabric, a wet sensation between my legs. My face burns as I bury my face in a couch pillow. “AHHHH! I’m so embarrassed I could die! What the fuck!” --- Day 20 I’ve been a bed and day-wetter for 3 days now. Yesterday morning I woke up to find my wastebasket was transformed into a god damned diaper pail. At least it was discreet- not that it made me feel good to have and/or need a diaper pail. I especially could’ve done without the cutesy decals on it. The walls of my room also looked a little… lighter in color. In fact, so did the color of everything. Bedsheets, clothes, etc. But maybe it’s just my eyes and the lighting… I’d given up on fucking with the bottle. And bargaining with it as well. It was still hanging around with the insistent “USE ME” notes. I would stubbornly stop wearing the Goodnites if I wasn’t afraid of ruining the carpet and my mattress any more than it has already. It’s annoying but this is honestly manageable. --- Day 21 “No! No! No! No! I won’t!” Another day, another soaked Goodnight. But that wasn’t the cause of my outburst. My underwear had been replaced yet again. Thick, babyish adult diapers filled every corner of the drawer. “I’m not wearing d-d-diapers! I refuse! This is too far!” I point at the bottle, sitting on my nightstand. “…” “You can’t make me- I-I’ll go buy more Goodnites.” As if in response, the sodden Goodnite around my bottom warms up as a fresh accident happens without my knowledge. A rivulet of pee escapes the leakguards, running down my leg. “I… I won’t…” I mutter, already reaching into the drawer for my first diaper as an adult woman. --- Day 24 I wake with a jolt, my arm having pressed against something cold enough to shock me. Stupefied I look around. I’d brushed against bars. Bars my bed now had. My bed is a crib fit for an adult. “Oh god- oh fuck…” I pull myself to my feet, leaning against the top rail that rests chest height. The soaked pink lace designed diaper drooping between my legs since my pajama bottoms don’t fit over the thick padding. Looking over my room, I notice more changes. The dresser is gone, shortened to a cupboard with a padded surface. Has to be a changing table. My desk is a large fancy play center with a closed bright pink plastic computer sitting on it. An overflowing toy box sits next to it. Posters on the wall that once pictured my favorite bands now display pony characters, and other little cartoon characters I vaguely recognize. “Gotta… Gotta get the fuck out… And hide… Some of this…” I frantically whisper to myself as I mess with the oversized crib latch. This room needs to be made halfway presentable in case Merry gets even the smallest peek. But I’m so fucked, right? Where the fresh hell am I hiding a giant ass crib or changing table in my apartment bedroom? Finally, I lower the rail and free myself. Quickly ditching the soggy diaper for one of the few less thick, daytime diapers available in the drawer. Refusing to use the changing table, I stand against the wall with the back of the diaper pinned between long enough to get it taped up adequately. Rushing over to the closet I check out the damage, and wince. Everything’s been babified. Onesies, short sundresses, overalls and skirtalls, etc. With a little digging I find a pair of jeans with baggy room in the bottom to accommodate my… The diaper… And a simple t-shirt that doesn’t make me want to throw up and hangs low enough to prevent peekage. Maybe I can at least do this much… I take down the posters, and stash them in the back of the closet. The toys on the play desk and toybox get dragged into the closet floor where it barely fits. “That’s… Good enough.” Now instead of giving “adult baby” room, it’s giving “sophisticated adult toddler” core. *Knock knock I jump out of my skin. “Theo, I’m heading out to visit family over the holiday. Sure you don’t wanna get out of the house?” After taking some time to get my breathing under control, I open the door a small amount and lean against the frame. “O-Oh w-well I have some tidying to do s-sooo…” “Just thought I’d ask, be back in a few.” “R-Right, see ya!” I quickly close the door before she can get a better look at the new furniture additions to my room. Blushing furiously after the encounter, I turn to the bottle resting on my nightstand. Reverting back to yelling at this fucked up object. “Let me be perfectly clear you… You thing.” “…” “I’m not drinking out of you. I’ve stubbornly held out this long and you’ve overplayed your hand.” “…” “What could you possibly do next? My room’s a goddamned nursery and you’ve made me a damned diaper dumper. You lose, it’s over.” --- Day 25 “Aah fug.” The light from the window finally woke me up to my current predicament. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have taunted the cursed baby bottle. I was mad- who could blame me? It’d clearly taken that as a challenge because things had ramped up. The bulb of a large pacifier was planted firmly in my mouth. Too large to spit out on its own, it would be easy to pull free. If not for the comically large mittens on my hands. Looking down past my breasts I spot matching booties on my feet, and the telltale snaps of a onesie between my legs. The snaps barely containing the bulging triple diapers taped to me. “Go da nit!” I shout from behind the bulb of the pacifier as I push myself to a sitting position. The giant mass between my legs is impossible to walk with. Uncoordinatedly I pull myself up to the railing to start the attempt to get it down. A monumental task with the gloves blocking progress. Too caught up in focus, unconsciously sucking on the soother, I almost miss the sound of the front door opening. My heart leaps into my throat. Merry absolutely cannot see me like this. I’ll die for real. I renew my attempts to be free as a voice calls out. “Hello? Per the work contract we agreed on I’m here, and I see you left the door unlocked as requested~” It’s an unfamiliar feminine voice. Contract? What? My confusion momentarily halts my escape attempt before I get back to it. “Ooh I hear noise over here… Is a certain sleepy girl awake~” Footsteps grow louder until they stop at the door to my room. The door creaks open. My face feels like it’s on fire. “Mmph ooo ait!’’ I grunt and cry out behind the pacifier to no avail. The very definition of a motherly figure stands in the doorway. Easily a foot taller than me. Muscular yet amply busty. A tender look in her eye. Hanging at her side is a large bag, diapering supplies hang from the open zippered pockets. She smiles as her eyes sweet the room before honing in on me. I freeze in panicked, embarrassed fear. Under the many diaper layers, I feel a spurt of pee warm the cooling dampness of my disposable underwear. “Oh my, it looks like I came prepared for nothing! You’re one well stocked little girl, ain’tcha sweetie~” “ooo I gwn u- bii giwl!” The woman shakes her head, laughing to herself. Retorting with a coo as she pats me on the head. “Uh huh, of course you are… Now how about Mommy gets this long weekend started with a fresh diapie- you certainly look like you need it baby girl~” With ease the larger woman drops the rail. “Eep!” I shout in alarm as I’m swept up and placed on her hip- the swollen diaper pressing against me as I’m carried over to the changing table. Feeling incredibly small all the while. Judging by the way I’d been man handled and how my feeble complaints had been tossed aside- there was no chance I was talking my way out of this. Any attempt to would surely just make me seem like the fussy baby I’d been made to appear as. Maybe… Maybe “Mommy” will be gone before Merry gets back… … One thing’s for sure. I should’ve just used the bottle. Cursed Bottle.pdf

Whoops, didn't realize the 12 point font would translate so poorly from the pdf. Consider it fixed. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Deposit Anxiously I smooth the front of my white blouse. My hands brush against the waistband of my ABU Bunnyhopps. The tall plastic stretching just above my navy pencil skirt. I’d put the damn thing on last night for bed only to wake up late- too late to put on big girl underwear for work… At least I was dry. My nerves were fried after stealthily clocking in and making my way to the teller line. The crinkle was like a roar in my ears. And I almost passed out upon seeing the outline of the padding on my skirt while passing a full-length mirror. But I made it; I was more or less safe. My counter was a little above waist height. The cubicle had walls around the side and back that mostly cut off my peers from a peek at my padded butt. Tell that to the beads of sweat building around my forehead, though. As a sense of calm starts to ease in, an unfortunate realization hits. In the panicked rush I’d found myself in, I had neglected certain… Morning needs. Something a twinge in my bladder was presently reminding me. “H-Hello, h-how can I help y-you today?” Before I could escape and somehow take care of my problem, a slightly older woman much taller than myself had appeared in my line. My legs shake below the counter, doing their best impression of a “potty dance”. The sharp-eyed beauty gives me a smile. “Hello dear, could you do a deposit for me?” My mind goes blank; the ground beneath my feet threatening to open up and swallow me whole. How!? She knows? She knows!? There’s no way! She- She wants me to-? Reflexively my hand drops down to the front of my skirt, checking that she didn’t get a peek from either above or below. The bulk between my legs feels massive in this moment… “W-What?” “A deposit, can you do that for me?” Never before have I felt so small in front of someone. The blankness of my mind begins fogging up around the edges. It’s all I can do to keep my thumb out of my mouth. She… doesn’t want me to have an accident in my d-diapie in front of her… At work… R-Right? The anxiety, bodily desperation, regressive headspace, and demand from a pretty lady compound together and sweep me away. It’s too much, my brain is absolutely fried. “Du-Duhposit…” I murmur from behind the thumb planted in my mouth. “Oh dear.” The woman looks down at me in surprise as my buckling knees finally acquiesce and bend. My free hand grabs onto the counter for support. Without needing to push an audible hiss fills the air between us as the hustle and bustle of the bank continues around us. Ignorant of the spectacle I was presenting to this random woman. “Aaah~” A relieved sigh escapes my pacified mouth. The babyish warmth between my legs is unbearable. Formerly crisp padding sags lower and lower. Humiliation burns my face beneath the haze. If I focused too hard, I’d lose myself entirely to these feelings. I-I’m a grown woman… I’mma b-big girl, and yet… P-Potty… As the flow stops, I start to mentally pull myself together. Though not fully there. A nudge would tip me back over into an infantile abyss. It’s a struggle to return to my full height; but I do so with a thumb still in my mouth as I meet the customer’s eye. An unsure waddle in my gait. “C-Can I do anyfin’ ewse for oo today?” I say while fidgeting under her grown up gaze. Futilely attempting to tug my skirt down and over my ruined Bunnyhopps. The woman chuckles, reaching over the counter to gently pat my head. “I was hoping you could deposit this.” She slides the check clutched in her free hand between us. All I can do is suck harder on my thumb in response. My face couldn’t get more crimson. “Aw It’s okay! You can help me with that in a minute, sweetie...” A wave of relief washes over me. I can move past this! I can be a big girl! “Before that why don’t I help my little teller freshen up on the changing table~” Her words push me over the edge. My adult mind crashes in on itself. I am a big girl no more. --- Inspired by @Pumpkprince_ss on Twitter Deposit.pdf

The Reading ImprobableLemon Have you ever felt an inexplicable urge to go somewhere? A tickle in your brain directing you to do something? I’m getting that right now. All for a plain looking building. With a generic name to match. Tarot Readings. First reading was free if the window ad was to be believed. I chew on my lip as I stand aside the entrance. Eyeballing the door as I try to push away the urge. I’m not interested in tarot. It’s a crock of shit. Like hotline psychics they read suckers and spin stories for desperate people to cling to. That is to say- I don’t believe it. With a sigh I throw a glance around the empty street. I’d much rather die than let anyone see me go in. With the coast clear I enter. A bell attached to the door ringing sharply. Seated at an antique table of dark wood is exactly who I would expect. A dark-haired beauty in her early 30’s with a beauty mark on her right cheek. My eyes are drawn to the studs and rings that dot her ears in an asymmetrical pattern. Medallions dangle from the nest of chains around her neck. She’s in a fishnet shirt covered by a black leather tank top. I can make out the dark ink of tattoos under the fishnet. Something about the confident smug look on her face… The way she’s seated… Some people you’re just predisposed to dislike. She’s that for me. I can feel it. “Welcome, welcome. I’ve been expecting you. Please have a seat.” She gestures to the seat across from her. The only unoccupied seat in the room. I take it. “Uh huh. You were expecting me?” Despite rolling my eyes and a bit of a snarky tone, I take the offered seat. She grins. “Yes.” “I never come to places like this? I could’ve very easily kept moving.” “And yet…” She gestures to me. Seated before her, very much in a place like this. I grumble, unable to retort. Her smile widens as if taking victory from the short exchange. She pulls a deck of cards from under the table. Their backs decorated in a series of black lines on a white background that means nothing to me. They dance in her hands as she shuffles the cards with long practiced mastery. My eyes widening at a level of skill even my skeptical ass can appreciate. Drawing a single card, she places the deck before herself and speaks. “You may call me Reader. It is as much my profession as it is my name. The cards know all and I know the cards. Now let us begin with the past… Emily Maude.” Small hairs on my arm and back of my neck raise as she places the card between us. My name is printed, not written on the card, in Times New Roman font. The spooky sensation is quickly replaced with a flood of indignant anger. “Hey now, did you have someone following me? Is this planned? You trying to con me?” Reflexively my hand brushes my back pocket to make sure my wallet is still on my person. The Reader’s eyes alight and seem to dance, the grin twisting into a smirk. She speaks as she draws three cards and arranges them between us. “Calm down, I’m just setting the stage for you to take this seriously. Before we get to the part you really want to know about.” The woman continues to rub me the wrong way with patronizing tone and look. “And what’s that?” “We’ll get there. Now, these cards represent your past. Please flip the first one.” Against my better judgement I go ahead. It’s a weirdly dressed guy surrounded by cups. The Reader nods her head. “Six of cups. You’re nostalgic for the past.” “Who isn’t? And don’t these cards have multiple meanings?” “Next card, please.” She ignores my question, exuding confidence. Next card is a cloaked man surrounded by cups; half of the cups are tipped over. “Five of cups. Emotional turmoil.” My eyes narrow at her. Emotional turmoil and nostalgia for the past? I have a feeling I know where this is headed. But how would the Reader know? Neither of us have an online presence, and only close friends know or care. Without prompting, I flip the third card. Last card is a wise looking man with a heard. Holding a staff and a lantern. “Hermit. Looks like you’ve been through a period of solitude.” My left eye twitches. I open my mouth to speak but shut it, not sure where to start. After a pause I get the words out. “How did you do that.” Not a question, a statement. The Reader leans back in her chair, offering an innocent look. “The same way I knew your name. But I haven’t said anything yet, Emily. Don’t ruin my fun.” “Well, you don’t have. I’m not stupid. We both know. I know you know. How though? Did I look sad or something? Bags under my eyes? A friend trying to prank me?” “Nothing of the sort. The cards informed me of the recent breakup you’ve yet to get over; the one you’re very nostalgic for despite the fact that Jane ripped your heart out.” Her matter-of-fact tone sent shivers up my spine. A similar feeling like when she’d revealed that card with my name. “Not true.” I lied. “Liar.” Her single word response contained the arrogant authority of someone that knows they are utterly correct. The smug look on her face makes me irrationally mad. “Fuck, what am I even doing here…?” “You came because you desire insight on your future. Even if it’s not something you knew you wanted.” That gave me pause. Gears began turning in my head. There’s no way… But what if…? The small part of my brain prepared to believe has grown given the circumstances. If this were an elaborate prank, they were about to get me good. “Let’s say hypothetically… That I bought into your song and dance. Could you answer my questions?” The Reader nods her head, stroking her chin in a thoughtful manner. “We could manage something like that. Hypothetically, of course. You get three questions- make them count.” She taps the deck with emphasis on ‘we’. I can only roll my eyes; a bit of tension I wasn’t aware of having leaving my body. “What is this genie bullshit.” “If you wish to lighten your wallet, we could finagle the number a bit…” Her toying gaze turns gleefully predatory with the introduction of finances into the conversation. “If you didn’t mention my wallet, I’d think this was a ‘you pay with means beyond the monetary’ kind of deal.” “I’ll have you know I am a reputable business woman. Free sessions have led to me garnering quite a number of well-paying regulars.” “So- about those three questions. Do I just spill them all now or one at a time?” I’d only got a few words out before the Reader had already dealt three cards out, plucking them from random places in the deck with precision. “Going all at once before might keep you on track.” “Uh can you pick those cards so cavalier like that? You haven’t heard my questions.” “All present know what you’re to ask.” “And if I decided to be spontaneous or even lie?” She snorts dismissing me with a wave. “You’re not the type to waste precious insight on such frivolity.” She’s right, but that only annoys me. What’s she reading? Me or the Cards? “How’s my immediate future? Will I be happy long-term? Is another partner in my future?” “Was that so hard? All the setup we had to go through for those few words. Go ahead, flip the card on the left.” Hesitantly I lift a corner and flip the specified card. Unlike the previous cards this was obviously not a tarot card. Not that I’m some kind of tarot judge. This was a picture printed on the card, not art. Tearing my eyes away from the picture I glance down to confirm what I already knew. It’s me. In the same brown skirt, black cardigan, and white shirt. With the same brunette medium length haircut that’s left annoying bangs poking my eyes. Only difference is the large stain on the front of picture Emily’s skirt, and rivulets of liquid running down her legs. We share the same mortified expression. “What the hell is this?” The Reader looks on in amusement. “Not common, but not totally uncommon.” “It’s a picture of me pissing myself on 3 by 5 cardstock; what do you mean uncommon, are you fucked?” “2.75 by 4.75 actually. The other times didn’t have you in them, obviously.” “So what, Reader? Is this some cute way of saying my immediate future is full of unfortunate accidents…?” She pulls the card towards her, giving it a quick once over before sliding it to me. A delighted smirk colors her face and all the more irritates me. “Nothing of the sort, Emily. I’m afraid you’re going to be pissing your pants. A lot. Judging by your purse, anyway.” I pull the card closer, trying to see what the Reader had in her short peruse. The purse dangling from my shoulder is open in the picture. Notably a few bundles of cloth are peeking out. Those are panties, some I recognize as having bought just the other day. Unfortunately I reach the same conclusion. My hand massages my temple as I glare at the Reader who returns the look with mirth. “Fine, I’m triply sold now. I haven’t pissed myself as an adult so I know pictures like this aren’t floating out there. I can’t even fathom how you’d even shop the picture together and print it in such a short time… How likely is this to happen.” “I’ll give you the same friendly advice I gave to the last to draw a card like that. Invest in some spare undies.” “I don’t want to look at the rest.” As my arms fold in front of myself, the Reader laughs and tries to reassure me. “Come now, I’ve Read for a long time. This was the low point. The rest’ll be better.” “God damn it.” It can’t be worse. With that thought I flip the middle card and immediately regret my decision. Before the card settles on the table, the Reader lets out a few strangled snorts before she can control herself and reapply a slightly off smile that could break at a moment. “It- It’s not so bad.” The Reader barely got the words out. Not believing her own words. “Yeah Reader? Tell me which part? Is it the giant diaper, the large bib covering my tits, or the playpen I’m in?” I ask pointedly, cold fury in my voice. Unable to look me in the eye without breaking she turns her head and takes a deep breath before continuing. “You look so happy.” True enough the relaxed smile on picture Emily’s face contrasts my own incensed expression. “Fuck you. Does tearing the cards up get me out of this?” The Reader looks at me aghast like I’d harmed a puppy. “No! Don’t shoot the messenger! You may not like what you see now but the roads you travel lead to this.” “To me, a grown ass woman, pissing my pants and wearing diapers in a giant nursery?” “To you, a grown ass woman, pissing your pants and wearing diapers in a giant nursery.” If a blood vessel were to pop in my forehead I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s beyond annoying and frustrating. This is a bad joke and she’s having the time of her life. “And this is literal. There’s no deeper meaning or something?” “Gotta say this is a first for me, congrats by the way, but yeah. Literal.” “Wonderful. This is where I’m headed and there’s nothing I can do?” “I wouldn’t say that. I’ll retract my previous advice about the panties and suggest you spring for something a little more absorbent.” “I’m out of here.” I stand up. In under 30 minutes a mystical clown has informed me that I’m destined to be a pissy pants overgrown toddler all the while having a laugh. “Emily-“ “Bullshit! You can’t pitch me that this last one is guaranteed to be good!” “I can though.” The Reader says confidently. “Oh yeah? This some sort of fate gacha with guaranteed pull rates?” “First of all, that’s good. But come ooon. How much worse could it get?” She makes a totally convincing argument. And yet… “Sunk coast fallacy.” “You’re just one card flip away from a big win.” “You sound like a casino spokesperson. See ya.” I turn away ready to walk out the door when the Reader gives a compelling response. “I’ll admit I’ve played around a bit. To be entirely serious, you’ll always look back and wonder what the last card had in store. It’s human nature. Billions of people exist out there and it’s a hell of a thing to be offered a glimpse of your soulmate and get a headstart on them.” Looking back to get a read on her, I see the toying and irritating expressions are gone. For the first time I’ve heard something genuine out of her mouth. Slowly I sit back down at the table. As if a switch were flipped, the corner of the Reader’s mouth lift irritatingly. Holding my breath, I flip the last card. Or at least I tried to. I had gripped the corner and just started raising it from the table when I caught a glimpse of the Reader’s face out the corner of my eye. Entertained curiosity became confusion became horror. All in the span of the few moments it took for her to lunge forward and rip the card from my fingers. “Excuse you. What gives?” “You were right, you don’t really want to see this.” She’s sweating. Quite literally. “What happened to all that shit about human nature and this being a once in a lifetime opportunity?” “How about we call it a day.” The Reader clutches the card to her chest. A defiant glint in her eye. She’s not going to give in. She’s pissed me off and played with me this whole time. I won’t give in either. I stand up. As does she. At 5’10 I have a good 4 inches on her. “You’re showing me what’s got you so rattled.” “Not on your life.” She responds with a sneer. I inch my way around the table. She goes in the same direction, keeping a matching distance. I switch directions. She does as well, losing a bit of ground she has to rush to make up. We won’t get anywhere like this. I can’t go too far away from the door or she could run away. I switch directions again. While the Reader focuses on switching, I lunge over the table. Her eyes grow wide as I enter her space. “Give me. The. Card!” My hands work to pry her arms and hands away from the card as I grunt out the demand. She responds with determined grunts of her own. “No! No! No!” Strength and height advantage goes to me if only slightly. For her part, the Reader is rather good at keeping the card just out of reach just when I think I’ve pried it from her. This goes on for another minute before my thumb hooks and catches on her fishnet undershirt. Undercutting the quiet grunts as we struggle for the card is the sound of the shirt ripping as I leverage my hand. “Wait! WAIT! You’re tearing my shirt!” Sensing an end to the fight for the Card, I seize the moment. “It’s not my fault you have the damn thing pressed against your fishnet! Hand it over and we’ll untangle.” In close proximity I get a good view of her face as she mulls over the pros and cons. Her eyes shifting like a caged animal desperate for escape. Unable to hold an entirely still pose for long my hand shifts and the Reader tenses as the fabric stretches. She groans before shoving the card into my free palm. “Ugh just take it. I’ll untangle your hand before you do any more damage and we’ll do this again…” True to her word we do exactly that. Once more seated before one another. A triumphant smirk on my face as the Reader glowers. Without fanfare I flip the card face up. Laughter tickles the back of my throat. Holy shit was it worth struggling for the card. I can feel tears pricking the corner of my eyes as laughs burst forth. “Ha! Y-You’re such a bitch! Holy shi-it! You tried to keep this from me!” It’s a struggle to get the words out, I can’t breathe. The look on the Reader’s face sending me into fresh fits. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She’s slumped forward in her chair, hands cupping each side of her face as she burns a hole in the card with her eyes. It’s her, the Reader. It would be funny in a cruel irony kinda way if that were it. But she’s leaning over me mid change as she wipes my most intimate parts with a baby wipe. A visibly wet diaper with faded flowery print balled up next to me; a fresh one already under my ass. “Ooh man… You were right, I can get a good Reading!” “Glad you’re happy, fucker. I’m stuck with permanent babysitting duty. Wiping the ass of the biggest baby in town.” She sullenly moans as I turn on her with a snarl. “You think I’m happy being the ‘biggest baby in town’? I’m happy you’re getting dragged down with me.” A seething silence of my own joins alongside the Reader’s as we stew in With a sense of morbid curiosity, I peek at picture Emily’s face. Content and happy with a little more… Her face is flushed and she’s biting her bottom lip. Clearly getting the most out of her change. The Reader is staring at picture Reader’s face, likely for similar reasons. Picture Reader looks much like the one before me, just in a slightly different fit. She looks happy as well, a red tint on her own face. For the first time since flipping the card we look up at each other. Both of us have an uneasy look. Deciding to break the silence, I speak up. “So… Uh… You never did a Reading about your future partners?” “I don’t Read for myself. If I had checked this before, I’d have run to the edge of Earth like Frankenstein escaping his monster.” That earned a chuckle from me. “Why not?” “My own brand of bullshit. It’s easier to believe I have free will so long as I don’t go poking fate with a stick, seeking answers.” Rather heavy. I’d rather not think too deeply on the implications these readings have about free will. That’s a panic attack better shelved for another time. “So… What now.” The Reader sighs. Eyeing the deck still sitting on the table. “I’m thinking another Reading for myself. We accidentally Read for myself, I’m curious what another one for me will say.” “Are you sure that’s a good idea? … And if you say ‘how much worse could it get’ I will dropkick you through a wall.” She grimaces, grabs from the top of the deck, and looks at it immediately without turning it around. “Ah.” “Is it… Bad?” I tentatively ask. She passes it over and I look. In shock I drop it to the table. No one’s prepared to be handed an image of themselves breastfeeding from another grown woman. The other woman’s hand caressing the back of your head while another hand is cupping your sagging diaper. “Maybe I should burn the deck… Start over as the president of an MLM or cult leader…” The Reader ponders aloud, sounding a mix of serious and joking. I place my hands on her shoulders, snapping her out of it. “I need a drink. Let’s get plastered.” ~~~ My how things change in a year. We were both curious what the cards saw in a potential relationship between us. So, we started casual. Drinks after work. Some dinners. A wild fuck. Sleepovers that don’t actually end and become permanent arrangements. It’s an opposites attract situation mixed with a touch of antagonism. The Reader pisses me off. She enjoys fucking with me. In regard to the other stuff… Both of us have a bit of a stubborn streak. Perhaps me a little more so. I ruined quite a few pair of pants and all my panties struggling against my padded fate. A fact that the Reader brings up at every opportunity… The bitch. A week after our relationship stepped up the accidents started and wouldn’t stop. No clue why, doctors didn’t know shit. Said it could be stress. The first diaper I put on was some prescribed, shitty medical thing. I was pressed against the bathroom wall with it stuck between the wall and my ass trying to finagle the bulk between my legs and tape the damn thing on. It was uncomfortable, it sucked, and I leaked on the couch within the hour. The Reader wasn’t pleased. When she forced my leaky butt down on a changing mat, I immediately got it. Subby little feelings flooded my brain like fireworks. It triggered something in the Reader as well. Her touch was both gentle and like electricity when she touched my bare skin. She wiped much longer than necessary but stopped far too soon. It’d been done on purpose if her smirk was anything to go by. By the time she finished powdering me up and had the tapes expertly affixed I was a writhing mess. The Reader was not much better, all but drooling over me. Pushing all the right buttons I didn’t know I had. That was the turning point. Falling into the roles advertised by the cards was like discovering drugs. I was babied the fuck out that weekend, and she was mommy as hell. We ran to the store and pooled money to buy so much shit that night. Stuffies, coloring books, sippies, bottles- the works. Officially I moved into her place by the end of the month. Before I knew it, I was the owner of a fully stocked adult baby nursery. Yippee. Things settled down after the initial discovery. We incorporated the kinky lifestyle into our everyday lives. Over the explosive 24/7 weekend stints born of mutual desperation. Presently I’m chewing away on my paci, reading some sci-fi while I wait for the Reader to get back. Cozied up in my evening onesie, premium ABDL diaper, and plush thigh highs on the couch. Eventually I hear the front door open and close. But I refuse to look up from my book. I hear the Reader shuffling around the house before she sneaks up behind me and pats my head. I shudder and lean into her hand. “What a brat. Not even gonna say ‘hi beautiful, how was work’?” “Oh right. Ahem. Hewwo mommy, how was workies? I’m so sowwy I huwt youw feewings.” She blanches, looking to be in great physical pain. I smirk at her suffering. “Jesus, you know that kills me.” “I fight with the tools I have. You attacked my character with brat allegations.” “You retaliated with unnecessary force… Now if you don’t mind-“ The Reader leans forward, snaking a hand between my legs. Pretending like I don’t care I return my focus back to the book. She squeezes the front of my bulging diaper, long wet sap leaving indents that the taut onesie conforms to. Unnecessarily she slips a finger between the leg guards. Her cool finger against my inner thigh jolts me as I glare up at her, setting the book down. That damn grin on her face gives the appearance of someone happy to be a menace. I’d seen it wiped off her face one time so far- that being the day we met. “You wanna talk unnecessary force? I’m obviously soaked…” “Well, babygirl, you can have a say in how I check you when you change yourself like a big girl. But until then…” She gives another vengeful stroke before extracting her hand from my diaper with a smirk. “I’ll continue doing things my own way.” “Whatever, mommy. You gonna change me or what?” “I guess I’ve tormented you enough. Let’s get to the changing table.” “Ooh, someone’s feeling fancy tonight. I’ll take that over the pad any day of the week.” I jump up and lead the charge to the nursery. My gait an obvious waddle from the diaper between my legs. The onesie snapped shut doing wonders to keep my padding from breaking at the tapes. It doesn’t take being a Reader to guess that the Reader’s gaze is fixated on my padding enhanced ass. Once at the fully stocked table, I climb atop it. The Reader affixes the strap across my chest. A wholly unnecessary addition lacking in practicality while maximizing fun. My onesie gets unbuttoned and she pushes the flaps up and out of the way. Exposing my diaper to the room. She presses the sodden mass into me one last time, a parting treat for both of us. I shiver as cold air hits my so-called princess parts with the diaper’s untaping. Then I shiver for another reason as the Reader attacks my nethers with wipes. With only a small amount of shame I can admit that I may have bucked my hips into her hands once or twice during this change. The Reader has plans of her own. As the last wipe is disposed of into the used diaper, she aggressively leans for a kiss. Obviously, I reciprocate. The damn strap around my chest keeping me from pouncing on the smaller girl and inevitably ruining her ‘fancy work dress’ with another unprotected accident. After a nice game of make out she breaks away, somewhat disheveled, to fluff a diaper with the same flowery design as the one on the card that set us down this path. The sight of which gets me thinking. “I still wonder… Whether the cards gave us this fetish or if the desire was always there.” “I keep telling you, Reading isn’t some magic reality bending kink factory.” “I’ve helplessly pissed my pants for just under a year, Reader. I could make some arguments to the contrary.” “The sample size between the two of us was fucked the moment we did the Reading. If we didn’t do the Reading and were still in this position, this conversation wouldn’t happen. From all my past experiences the cards are displaying, not guiding fate.” I lift my butt up as the new diaper is placed beneath me. High capacity, thick, and comfy. The Reader begins massaging powder into my loins. I try to focus on the conversation despite overwhelming odds. “Fair, I guess. Who’s to say the Cards aren’t operating in your blind spot? If the Cards are trying to get me to give up my potty training by telling me it’s no use holding onto it, that’s manipulation not guidance.” “I suppose you could make the argument in any given scenario that the cards are trying to directly interfere with fate by planting seeds. What do you suppose the cards get out our unconventional relationship?” “A sexy ass diaper girl for their favorite Reader.” I bat my eyes at her from the changing table. She laughs as she pulls the front panel up, working on getting the padding just right between the legs. “I always said you got the better end of the deal.” “Really, Reader? Not this again.” “You just gotta sit there, looking all cute and babie. Piss your pants or make big pushies and shake your padded butt at me for a change.” “Aw weh, it’s so hard being in charge and teasing my adult baby girl! I only have full control over her diapers, cummies, and unlimited access to big girl panties! Boo fucking hoo.” We both look at each other and giggle, which inevitably become full force laughs. By the time it winds down, the Reader has put the finishing touches on adjusting my tapes. “I’m inclined to believe we always had a hidden interest in this. I’d rather not think on the implications otherwise.” “Fair enough. Now you wanna hurry up and get me dressed, I’m hungry.” The Reader grumbles to herself as she unstraps me from the table. “And she says I’m in charge. I’m the one taking orders from the bossiest bottom…”

I'm not opposed to making more chapters for these characters. If the demand is there. There are many fun ways to have them interact with each other. I'm already getting a few ideas. I would recommend another short story of mine with a similar vibe if you want more: No [Escape]

Bea. - 6 a.m. Before the sun crests over the trees, I’m awake and in uniform. There’s much work to be done before my mistress wakes. With a damp cloth I quietly run up and down the floors of the villa. Careful to dry them after. The patio swept of minute debris collected since the day prior. - 7 a.m. In the basement I separate the laundry by color and prepare them to go in the washing machine. Taking special care to handle my lady’s undergarments. Those receive different washing standards as they are rather unique. While below the villa, I take stock of the larder for today’s breakfast. We’re well stocked from last week’s delivery. I’ll make her favorite. A tall stack of cakes, side of sausage, and fresh orange juice. After bringing a few supplies up to the kitchen, I dust all corners and surfaces. Including the frames of paintings and photos alike. - 8 a.m. It’s close enough to the time to wake my mistress that my anticipation is building. One of my most favorite times of the day… I power through and put together a meal for myself. The same meal planned for my mistress. As usual I finish eating and cleaning my dishes in time to draw her bath. - 9 a.m. The table is set for her, and the bath hot enough to sink to a comfortable warmth by the time my lady has been roused. My heart hammers in my chest as I open the door. On her bed, tangled up in sheets, is she. My mistress. Just a bit taller than me at 5’10. Her messy gold locks spill over her shoulder. Her nightshirt slipping down an exposed shoulder. This sight is for me, and me alone. The sleepy and disheveled form of the most put together woman whom I’ve known my life entire. My mistress so beautiful. Elegant. Lovely. Kind. Soggy. I’d drawn closer to the bed, enriching myself with her sight. The state of her exposed diaper very apparent through the clear plastic cover. It’s everything I can do to keep from pressing my hand into it and her. Yet I am nothing if not professional. Rather I place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Good morning, my lady.” Sleepily her light brown eyes open, slowly focusing on me. She yawns, the back of her hand covering her mouth. “Morning, Bea... I cannot thank you enough.” She extracts herself from the sheets and lays in preparation. I’ve already prepared her mat. As she slowly works, I’m treated to many blessed sights of her bare flesh as she contorts on the bed.. Working together we get the changing mat beneath her. The plastic pants are slid past her legs before her bottom reaches the padded mat. We meet eyes. She flashes me a smile before laying down fully. Internally I swoon. The poor dear is soaked front to back. Madame always did joke that my lady was a heavy wetter in her early days. Something I had intimate knowledge of in these recent months. I pull the ribbons I’d tied the night prior round her waist. I pop the adjustable snaps and pull the front panel away from her loins. No matter the number of times I’ve completed this process, I’m always stunned by her half nude form. Forcing myself to move I begin wiping her down with a warmed wet cloth. Taking care to clean inside her as well. My gaze flicks up. Mistresses’ eyes are closed. A peaceful expression on her face. Finished with the front, we get her bottom raised. I hastily clean her rear. Before lowering her down I pull the mat and her sodden garment away- allowing her now half naked form back on the bed. “My lady.” Gratefully she takes my extended hand and I pull her into a standing position. I motion to the door where the bathroom awaits her. “Thank you, Bea. I’ll soak for a moment.” Turning away she elegantly departs the room. The only sound her bare feet on the wooden floor. The bottom I’d just changed in the corner of my eyes as I fail to avert my sight. I hear the bathroom door down the hall open and close with an audible click before I allow myself to lose composure. A storm brewing inside me now unleashed. In an unbecoming sight I flop onto her bed. Soaking in her scent. The flowery perfume she always wears mixed with the lingering scent of her nighttime accident. My hand bumps into the balled up mass of her cloth diaper, still on the bed. In burning need I cup the discarded, bulging padding. “Oh Mistress… My lady… I-I…” It still retains some of her warmth. O-Of course I need to pick it up to take it to the laundry room… At least that’s the working justification for my depravity. I use my other hand to tease myself through my uniform. Through my undergarments. My back arches and I bury my face into the sheets. I bite down on the fabric to minimize my inappropriate sounds. Eyes closed I remember the sight of her laying before me. It is burned into my mind. How the cloth conformed to the curves of her body. The feeling of her skin on my hand. She needs me. She needs me. I shouldn’t be like this. I shouldn’t be so happy. I know it’s wrong. I know. I’m a horrible servent. No more high society. No more talks of grand futures or political marriages. It’s the accidents that got her consigned to the villa. It’s the accidents that fulfilled my greatest and deepest wish. I care not for this wet garment. Clutched desperately in my hand. It is not my fetish. She is. ~ ~ ~ Claire. - 6 a.m. I’m tangled up as I often find myself. Always the active sleeper. Try as she might to be stealthy, I still hear Bea getting ready for the day. My eyes close. The comforting sound of my Bea on the edge of drifting consciousness. - 8 a.m. I’m firmly awake. I stretch starting with my fingers- moving down. Arms, neck, midsection, and legs. My attention returns to the massive bulk between my legs. Of course, still dry. It’s about time. Faintly I hear Bea in the kitchen. She’ll be here soon- within the hour. With no effort I open the flood gates. A satisfying warmth settles into my diaper as I smile to myself. The cloth wicking away all moisture as it appears My hand slips past the plastic of the cover and traces the ribbon Bea had expertly and lovingly tied. Her hands on my most intimate bits just one sleep ago… Going lower I push the warm, sodden cloth into myself. My breath hitches. “Aah… Mm…” Thoughts of Bea fill my mind. My diligent, loving, gorgeous, and gentle maid. Debasing myself with these ‘accidents’ was worth this outcome. I’d do it all again. It was just us now. A childhood promise made real. We’d remain together. Forever. I’d made sure of it. The thought almost brings me to completion. My toes curl into the sheets. As my free hand covers my mouth. A rush so intense I could pass out, leaving my diaper a bit more than just ‘wet’. … Cool down Claire. There will be time for this later. Bea’ll be here any minute… Reluctantly extracting a hand from my padded underwear, I find a comfortable position to rest in for the remaining moments of solitude. Kept company with the familiar warmth of my thoroughly used diaper. - 9 a.m. The door opens. Soft sounds of Bea’s footsteps fill the room. A hand is placed on my shoulder. “Good morning, my lady.” The sound I’d waited all morning to hear, Bea’s welcome to the new day. Turning to see her I’m greeted to the sight of my Bea. Just a little shorter than me at 5’5. Looking beautiful in her black and white ruffled uniform. Her brown hair tucked behind her ears. I put on a good sleepy show including a yawn more genuine than not before I reply. “Morning, Bea... I cannot thank you enough.” Slowly I extract myself from my blankets. Doing my best to give Bea a show. I’m sure a blush paints my face. She’s so damned oblivious. Any other would have long since realized my intentions… But I love her for it. She’s too cute. Finally ready, we get myself lifted onto a changing mat. Somehow Bea had already removed my plastic pants. I can feel gravity attempting to pull the damp cloth away from my bottom. Bea’s sharp yet warm green eyes meet my own. I smile, lingering as long as possible before I lay down eyes closed to get the process started. Though a shockingly cold air sweeps across my privates I make no sound. I’m accustomed to such fleeting moments of discomfort. Especially when it is followed up with a nice warm cloth. I can feel Bea’s hand through the material. Her warmth. The light pressure of her nails. More than anything I want to push myself into her… But that would be unbecoming of me. A lady such as myself could never make the first move. … Perhaps more obvious hints will be needed in the future… My thoughts are interrupted as Bea attempts to lift my rear. I oblige and assist; disappointed we’re reaching the end. Before I know it, I’m lowered to the bed. No hint of mess I’d made on my person. Inwardly I sigh, she’s grown much too quick at this. “My lady.” She offers me a hand up, a smile on her lips. I gratefully accept. My touch lingering a little while longer than necessary after standing up. “Thank you, Bea. I’ll soak for a moment.” With as much grace one can muster without any sort of lower half clothing, I exit the room. Praying that Bea’s eyes closely follow my depart. Down the hall and to the right I’m met with steam upon opening the bathroom door. The tub is full with water that feels just right. I cast my nightshirt aside into the hamper and tie up my long hair. Not in need of a wash quite yet. Nude, I lower myself into the water. Slowly to adjust to the temperature. She’s just so perfect. My Bea. So wonderful and sweet and prepared. I sigh. Wondering if it would be an unusual request that she join me in the bath one of these days. Is that beyond the realm of common sense? We used to do it all the time as kids, back before our relationship was so constrained… … Ah well. I have all the time in the world to build to that. There are more important things to focus on right now, anyway… Closing my eyes I caress one of my breasts. A finger tracing my nipple. I do my best to mentally re-live the change I’d just experienced. I think about the change I’ll soon experience once I’m clean. Going a step farther, I think naughtier. Our bodies pressed together. Lips locked. Her knee grinding the cloth padding into my mound. Disheveled outfits. Our breath in close proximity. Maybe she’ll take me and declare me hers. Or maybe I’ll pick her up and- “Fuwaaa~” Without even a finger entering or teasing my outer folds, I’m spent. No stamina for this sort of thing. Not when she’s involved. Oh Bea, how could you do this to your poor mistress? Low in the tub I sink. The breath I release coming out as frothy bubbles. That was nice. Very very very nice. Lethargically I grab the loofa and lather up. The sooner I wrap this up; the sooner I can rejoin with Bea and get a change from her. After that bout with my active imagination, I need her hands on me again in some way, shape, or form The [Change].pdf

I'm loving this story, I had to sub to your Substar because I couldn't wait to read more! I love the build up, easing in is more realistic and makes the characters feel grounded.

Very fun story, I love seeing spooky month diaper stories. And I'm excited to see maybe there's more in story for Danny

It makes me happy to see people still think of this story. Not to get people too excited but a revival is on my list of projects. I want to re-work the existing chapters and compile them into a pdf before releasing new content.

As the fog and stink of sulfur dispersed, I was left in slack jawed awe at the result of a decade of research and painstaking work. It’s not often such long-term dedication bears fruit this grand. “This is… Curious.” The armor-clad Devil, speaks in a cold tone… as one might expect. It chills me to my core; both the thinly veiled rage and the unnatural yet beautiful sound of its spare words. I shake off the feeling and speak willfully. She’s trapped- suspended in a barrier. I’ve nothing to fear. “Elyial! With your true name you’ve been called forth by the great wizard, Lottie. Grant my wish such that you may be sent back to the depths.” A gauntlet reaches forth and prods the barrier. The small yet violent act causes the cozy woodland home to tremble and shake. Sparks fly as the infernal metal greets the edge of containment. A horrible sound akin to nails on a chalkboard fills the silence. My breath catches in my throat. It is not a barrier befitting the containment of such power. She could break free easily; an explosive act that would destroy the house and kill me in the process. Bright red eyes narrow within the creature’s helm. Directing her contempt to me- truly seeing me for the first time. The arm drops as she halts her attempt to destroy the barrier. “I see what you’ve done. Quite clever…” The tense moment ends as soon as it began. My breathing resumes as a wide smile breaks out on my face. It’s always nice to have one’s hard work praised… “For a Devil such as yourself this level of planning was necessary.” “… For a human.” ... Even if the praise is given begrudgingly. What she noticed was a spell to bind our souls together. For all her power if Elyial was in any way involved in my harm she would be consigned to oblivion. Never to be reformed in the underworld. The barrier keeps her from trying anything. And in case the barrier needs dropped, a final spell used in the summoning anchors her to my approximate location- a max distance of 200ft so she doesn’t fuck off somewhere. As for why of all Devils I’d chosen Elyial- it had been for her abilities. A powerful general amongst the underworld’s armies- she grants her own wishes to bring ruin to those in her way. When that isn’t enough, she crushes swathes of Demons with a single blow from her massive flail. “Send me back and I will forgive this foolish act. You play beyond your abilities, little wizard, and my patience has limits.” After the condescending pause, the Devil continues. But makes no move. And at that, I smirk. “There is no escape. The sooner you give up- the happier we’ll both be. Now if you wanna be a stubborn bitch, you can float in my living room till you change your mind… Otherwise let’s get this over with.” “… Proceed.” Elyial responds after pausing to survey the unkempt room. It’s not that I’m dirty, I’m just lazy when it comes to anything outside magic. Excitedly, I launch into my wish. A little something I’d prepared ahead of time to reduce the chances of the wish going wayward. “I never want to work again! Grant me a free life of relaxation where I’m pampered by those around me and loved by all! With enough money to make my lifestyle possible in perpetuity! While of course taking care to ensure no one is harmed by the completion of the wish and that I remain human and of sound mind and body.” Suspended in air, Elyial watches. Her eyes burn holes in me. She’s clenching her fist so hard it trembles. “So it will come to be.” She mutters, almost spitting the words at me. Before I can process her reaction, a powerful drowsy sensation hits me. I reach out in time to catch myself as I slump down to the floor. Rapidly I lose the ability to keep my eyes open. My consciousness fades into an inky black. ~~~ Tangled up in blankets, I wake groggily. Which is a normal for me. What isn’t normal is the tall ceiling with fancy trim. My heart leaps into my throat- it worked! It had to have! And Elyial didn’t find a way to twist my wish into turning me into a pile of flesh. Or something worse. In my excitement, my paci falls from my mouth and dangles from its clip. … …… My what…?! Something isn’t right. Quickly I toss my blankets aside and gasp. I’m in a pink bodysuit, 3 buttons on the crotch. No, not a bodysuit- a onesie. The bulge and off white plastic poking out from the onesie is unmistakable. I flex my legs in disbelief; the bulk is undeniably there. But something else as well, a damp warm sensation. This isn’t a dream, this is very much real. My face feels hot. My mind a jumbled mess as I struggle to accept the present situation. But then, I notice the bars surrounding me and the greater room beyond. Elyial you fucking whore. Oh yes, without question my bedroom is significantly larger. The issue at hand is that it is now a goddamned nursery. One fit for a 5’10 adult. Seemingly for me. My bed- a crib. The desk where I’d craft spells- a rocking chair. That chest of ingredients and supplies- an overflowing toy chest. Wardrobe- a massive changing table stocked with row after row of frustratingly adorable disposable underwear. Where once was wood panel walls- now pink plaster with cutesy little infantile doodles. She’ll fix this. One wish is all it’ll take. I still have leverage. Using the bars I pull myself up, standing unsteadily with the unfamiliar bulk between my legs. I find one of the rail release mechanisms. Despite my best efforts the thing is made to be near impossible to lower from this side. A good handful of minutes were spent attempting to climb the rail. The unwieldy padding along with my… Less than stellar strength, made the task impossible. For once I curse my lack of athleticism. Without my staff or writing implements to craft a spell, dropping it with magic is out of the question either. So, I take a deep breath- “DEVIL! LET ME OUT!” -and shout. “… I’m stuck… unless… kill us… ?” Faintly I hear her response. Asshole didn’t even try to shout- from her tone she’s enjoying herself. She can’t or won’t let me out till the barrier is gone- which she has kindly offered to do herself at the cost of our lives. I can’t believe this. It’s the only way out. We haven’t even started negotiations and I’ll be joining the table down one of my three cards. Not that there’s a chance in hell I’ll ever unbind our souls- so that leaves one playable card… “Fudge it, [Release]… Fudge? F-u-d-g-e. FUDGE!” Fuck. I massage my forehead as I feel my link to the dispelled barrier dissolve. Shortly after the door opens and in walks Elyial. Having undergone a wardrobe change. Gone is the imposing armor; unveiling an ethereal red-eyed beauty with a half crown braid of white and black. Adorned by black khakis and a burgundy shirt mostly obscured by a white apron accented in black. The anger and frustration that’s been boiling up lasted till we locked eyes and she smiled. An act that hastens my heart- in fear and unwitting desire. Elyial leans on the bars next to where I stand. Appraising me with her eyes. “How’s my dear little Lottie? Not that I need ask. You’re rather soaked, aren’t you? Pushing your special panties to the limit, hm?” If her intent was to humiliate or embarrass me, she was doing a wonderful job. My face explodes in crimson. Doing my best to appear unbothered, I respond with a measured voice. “L-Let’s cut to it. Why don’t we make a deal?” “Oh?” “I won’t remove the soul bind for obvious reasons, but I will drop the anchor so you may return whence you came.” “Who is to say I wish to leave?” Not something you want to hear from a high-ranking Devil. I can feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. My bladder twinges as anxiety bubbles up. “Uh… I… I Cannot reasonably let you freely roam the mortal plane… If that’s what you’re implying…” “Oh, I understand sweetie. You silly wizards have all these rules and taboos. You’d be turned into an adorable stain if you unleashed me on your world.” She continues to speak in an uncomfortably sugary voice- opposed to the cold and measured anger the night before. I’d more prefer if she was raging at me. That would at least make sense. “Do you want claim over my soul?” “Not particularly.” “Then what? What can I offer for you to fix this?” “What needs fixing, dear? Your wish was granted and you were oh so clever enough to avoid getting turned into a pile of flesh or gnat. Congratulations~” My eye twitches as I gesture down at my outfit. “You think I wished for this? Diapers and all?” Elyial looks amused and taps her chin thoughtfully. “All criteria are fulfilled. I don’t think an adult baby like you needs to work… And those pampers of yours do look like they’re in need of some pampering… And you’re oh so cute like this- everyone’s going to love you~” “You twisted my wish!” I point at her accusatorily. “Tsk tsk. I only choose to grant the wish; I have no say over how it is granted. Tis not my fault you desired so grandly… Wouldn’t you say blaming me is a little immature, sweetheart?” She’s being such a frustratingly obstinate shit. “So you won’t negotiate, fan-fudging-tastic. What do you get out of this? You’re trapped in this too.” Elyial perks up, rubbing her hands together. Excited that I broached the subject. “Sidebar with me here, I promise it’s relevant. Could you… Say my name for me?” “Whatever, mommy I don’t-“ I slap my hands over my mouth, eyes wide as I stare at her. She clasps her hands together, smile growing ever wider. Those red eyes of her twinkle brightly. “Awww that was so adorable! Aah… Should’ve caught it on video…” The few beads of sweat on my forehead have grown and spread; covering my body in a coldsweat. Another twinge on my bladder and I barely register the floodgates open. My- The diaper warms between my legs, now only held up by a few strained onesie snaps. “O-Oh god I-I didn’t mean to say that…” The Devil chuckles, a sound that does not put me at ease. Without warning she grabs me under the arms and plucks me out of the crib. “Ah! W-Wait!” She pulls me close to her and in my confused shock I wrap my legs around the Devil to keep from being dropped. Before wrapping the other arm around my back, she plops the pacifier clipped to my onesie into my mouth. In an anxiety ridden autopilot it bobs up and down in my mouth. Despite being only a head taller than me, she pulled that off with ease- a result of her unnatural strength. “Why don’t we get little miss soggy a fresh diaper, hm?” While talking, Elyial walks us in the direction of the changing table. All the while patting my bottom, driving my diapered state home. I cringe each time as I’m reminded by the damp sensation on my butt. “Aah, sidebar over. I must admit, I was concerned about your wish. You covered a few of the common traps. There was a good chance you would’ve walked away unscathed… Having made a fool of me. Leaving me no retaliatory options.” Her grip on me tightens a little as her voice drops. The sweet façade drops as she remembers the previous night. Any squirming I was doing in her arms ceased immediately. Elyial notices and lightens up. “For obvious reasons my worries scattered to the wind as soon as the wish started taking shape. This was building up to be better than anything I could dream of doing to you. The best part being how self-inflicted it is~” Gently she places me on the changing table. I sink into the padded surface. Her hand lightly pushes into the front of my diaper, as if checking how wet I am. The sodden padding brushes against my most intimate bits. Unconsciously I gasp from behind the paci as an intense feeling gut punches me. Such an intense feeling… I pray this isn’t another result of the wish- but I know it is. She laughs to herself, happy with my reaction. “I made a little wish of my own you know. To have a part to play in this production, and thoroughly enjoy it. Every minute. Even if it meant saddling myself with an odd predilection or two.” Her point is punctuated with the sound of the tapes ripping. As the front of the sodden garment is pulled away, I shoot my hands down in a meager attempt at modesty. Elyial rolls her eyes good naturedly and shoos my hands away as she begins wiping my nether regions with the baby-wipes. I shudder on the table- initially from the cold but then from the sensation. Against my rational self my eyes roll back, my neck cranes, and my mouth snaps down on the paci. Fuck! Holy Shit! “I’m thrilled to see you enjoy this just as much as mommy~” The Devil adds slyly as she continues. In this moment I don’t care about anything. I buck my hips into her hand. Oh fuck! Mommy please, please mommy make me- Elyial lingers just long enough to put me on the verge of completion before pulling her hand away- ruining the orgasm. My eyes snap back into focus, my body a mess of hungering need. “N-No! Pwease! I-“ “Aw you didn’t finish? My sweet little princess that might be rather common in your future. Maybe if you’re a good little thing we’ll let you have some fun- maybe with a teddy bear…” Ignoring the desperate whines escaping from my pacified lips, she slips a fresh diaper under my bottom. As my loins are once again sealed behind fresh padding and plastic my libido cools down like a bucket of ice dropped down my pants. The primal urges are replaced by embarrassment on a scale I’d never thought possible. I bury my face in my hands. I can’t believe I just did that. This is so fucked, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck! “Every embarrassment. Every humiliation. Every waking moment. I will be by your side. Striving to ruin you in new, creative ways. Going just far enough to break you down without crossing the brink. Again, and again.” My heart skips a beat. Equally measured in excitement at the prospect, shameful embarrassment at the disconnect between my body and mind, and horror at being under Elyial’s thumb. I pull out the paci and launch into a final plea. This can’t be it, there has to be a way out- to escape this fate. “Please m-mommy, I-I know you’re mad at me but… Anything, anything but this…” Elyial laughs and boops me on the nose. “Oh, my silly girl. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad for you.” She leans close, cupping my face with her warm hand. Staring deep into my eyes with an intense look. Her upper teeth biting so hard in desire on her bottom lip that it draws blood. “The way you look at me in fear- so desperate to hide it. How you ultimately give in to my touch after fighting it. Your constant embarrassed glow. Your subconscious chewing on your paci against your will. The way your body presses into mine and the plastic mass cups in my hand. The sight of your soaked diaper hanging off your frame. Hearing your panicked voice call me mommy. Knowing that this is only the beginning and I have so much, much, much more to discover… It drives me mad. And I love it. All of it. I love you, Lottie~” “N-No! You don’t want this mommy, please! It-It’s the wish!” An obsessive love born of her infernal desire to torment. An ungodly horrible result for me. Elyial picks me up and pulls me close. I can feel a hand stroking my back as the other gropes my diaper- an invasive act that would surely be many to come. It reddens my cheeks. Tears gather in the corners of my eyes as the reality of this nightmare sets in. A nightmare I pray I’ll wake from. “There, there… Don’t you remember what you said? ‘There is no escape. The sooner you give up- the happier we’ll both be’.” ~~~ Character Biographies- Lottie: Human wizard, 30 years old. Average build, 5’10. Unkempt medium length blonde hair, brown eyes. Top of her class in magic school, excelling in application and theory of magical formulae. Lazy in all regards beyond magic. For that reason, an ingenious plan filled her head- one that would take a decade to complete. She secluded herself to a cabin deep in the woods to keep prying eyes away from her taboo work. Why go through all that trouble instead of making golems to do everything for her? Beats me; eccentric geniuses, am I right? Ultimately her wish was granted and she has an eternity to learn to be happy about it! Elyial: Devil general, without age. Deceptively slender build, 6’6. Long white/black hair in a half crown braid, red eyes. Little is known about Elyial to the magic community, including that she is amongst the Fallen. Large in part to the Devil ensuring all historic texts regarding her have been purged. Obviously, she missed one and will be overjoyed to see its destruction too. A Fallen Angel- she once granted wishes for the sake of mankind and the world. Giving away a piece of herself in every wish. As the wishes grew more self-serving, she pushed the hatred welling inside her deep down. The Angel fell when she had given too much of herself and bore witness to the twisted outcome of humanity’s wishes. She was satisfied tormenting the damned in the lower realms and working off her sorrowful rage in the Blood Wars. Fortunately, Lottie has gifted her a new outlet and she has all the twisted love in the world to give her little Wizard.

It's important to note she's only 'babie' when it's convenient.

It's been a while since I posted here. Here's a lil peak at what I've got cooking on Twitter