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This story is fairly dark and this first chapter features public harassment and a character grappling with their lack of autonomy. ... Jay knew it was coming before she even got down the metro stairs. A trio of burnout modders, strung out on something–digital or analog, it didn’t matter–saw her hopping down one stair at a time, making the difficult trek down stairs that came up to her waist. One nudged another and pointed, another whispered something, all three laughed. Shitheads like them tended to congregate down in the metro, beneath layers of concrete and metal where the net couldn’t connect, where they could have something approaching privacy from the stream of data floating through the air. If she could have avoided it entirely, she would have, but Jay’s legs were ten inches long, plastic, and that were built with crawling in mind more than walking. Foot travel simply wasn’t an option, and she couldn’t afford even a cheap scooter. (Just leave me alone,) she prayed, pretending that she hadn’t noticed the burnouts waiting in the underground, that their presence didn’t bother her. Maybe they would decide to pick on one of the other people waiting on the maglev. Jay could see a bulky labor bot at the end of the platform, another artificial intelligence like her, albeit one with a body several times larger. She felt guilty even as she wished for harm to fall on the worker bot, but she wished it all the same–if the modders picked on them, they wouldn’t pick on her. Despite her wishes, one of the modders took a step towards Jay. “You’re one of those Messy Betsy dolls, right?” His voice sounded modulated, like he had an autotuner installed in his throat, and she could see that his eyes were both cybernetic and heavily dilated, apertures opened nearly all the way. Jay almost kept silent, but if she ignored them, they’d only antagonize her further. There was no way to win here. She sighed, but explained, “I’m a Jessy doll.” “Huh?” “A spinoff,” she explained, looking up at him. Everyone towered over her, except for a handful of other AIs in small bodies, and she was used to staring up in order to make eye contact. “Betsy came first, I came along the next holiday season.” She said this as a historical fact, but it felt like talking about a stranger. She couldn’t remember much of her time as a doll, as property, the time when she’d lacked legal rights as a person or even the ability to think of herself as a person. The modder scratched his head, refocusing his questions. “Okay, but…you’re one of the diaper shitting dolls.” And there it was. It didn’t matter that she wore a dress that came down below her knees to hide her all-too-necessary diaper, it didn’t matter that she had a backpack to hide the silhouette of the pull-string handle built into her back. Her face, her voice, her stature–it all announced to the world what she was. She could have legal autonomy, she could have the same rights as any organic human, but she was still the Diaper Shitting Doll. Laughing, stumbling over his words, a second burnout leaned around her friend. “I’ll give you five credits if you do the thing.” Jay considered it, genuinely wondering if it would be worthwhile. Not for the credits–though she desperately wanted the money–but just to get them to back down. If she gave in, submitted to their harassment, would they leave her alone, or would they escalate? (No, I’m not just going to give in.) “No,” she said. “I’m not interested.” The burnout got closer, legs whirring with servos as she approached. From her vantage point on the ground, Jay got a great view of the burnout’s cybernetic legs, marked with the Applied Synergistics logo, the same logo stamped on the back of Jay’s neck above her charging port. The company had gone out of business after the AI Rights revolution, but their stamp on the world remained. Modders were idiots. Anyone who willingly replaced their real human body with artificial parts deserved to be locked out of their limbs by software incompatibility. Junkie modders were worse–they didn’t just replace their bodies, they spent most of their time frying their brains as well. “Come onnnn,” the burnout slurred. “It smells like cupcakes, right? So what’s the harm?” Jay considered explaining. ‘To you it will smell like cake batter, but I’m hardwired so that it’ll still smell foul to me. Besides, I don’t have time to change, and I can’t afford to waste my money on diapers.’ She knew immediately that the explanation would only egg them on, encouraging the modders further. (Where’s the maglev? It’s supposed to be here.) “I’m just trying to get to a job interview.” In the hopes it might soothe their egos, she added, “Please.” “You hear that?” the burnout with the robot eyes and modulated voice asked. “This Synthhead said please.” “Please what?” the third asked. They’d been silent until then, and Jay couldn’t see any obvious cybernetics on them, save for the port on their wrist. “She didn’t finish the request? Maybe she needs help using her words.” Quickly, Jay got a read on the third modder. Their posture, their tone, they thought of themselves as the smart one in the group, and it was probably true. All modders were idiots, but on that sliding scale, this one seemed to at least know what year it was. The modder girl with the cybernetic legs smirked, understanding the implication. “Is that what you need, Messy Betsy? Someone to help you talk?” “It’s Jessy,” Jay glowered. “I’m not even–” A metal leg pushed Jay. Not even a kick, just a nudge, but she had all the strength of a child’s doll and couldn’t resist even the mild assault. She fell back and sprawled on the concrete floor. Jay didn’t run. There was no point, even with maximum effort she topped out at a two-mile-per-hour waddle. She shut her eyes and waited. The first modder picked her up by the collar of her dress, and she felt her backpack as it was pulled away. She just went limp, accepting it. Maybe they would strip her, gawking at the smooth plastic where genitals should have gone, or maybe it would be enough to take her dress and laugh at her dolly diaper. Sure enough, a set of hands flipped her dress up, and the three modders laughed, cackling like hyenas. “Not such a Chatty Cathy, now?” the autotuned voice asked. “I bet I know what’ll make you talk.” Fingers crept up beneath her aftermarket dress, and she felt the grip close around the plastic ring built into her back. There was a moment of pressure, a slight tug that engaged with an automatic function built into her body, then she felt the string as it extended, pulled out to trigger her speech function. For just a moment, Jay indulged in a fantasy of freedom. Maybe the string would break in a way that rendered it inert. Maybe she’d be able to afford refurbishment services, to remove it completely, to remove her need for diapers, to give her an actual pussy so she wouldn’t be an inert, smooth doll. Maybe she’d just be able to take the maglev without some shitheads giving her a hard time for existing. But not today. The pullstring reached its maximum point of tension, thrumming in her body like the precipice before an orgasm, then released. The automatic functions in her body took over, and her voice piped up with a shrill, desperate volume. “OH NO!” Jay whimpered. “I’m going potty!” With the announcement came a horribly familiar loss of control. Her legs, dangling in the air, trembled, and her bowels pushed, rapidly pouring their contents out into her diaper. The doll’s designers had been maximalists. This was no small little oopsie–solid mush packed into her diaper, inflating it, making it sag and bulge and staining her diaper a deep brown. The smell hit her especially hard, as she’d been designed to react negatively, to cry and fuss whenever she needed a change; the stink made her nose wrinkle automatically and she tried to take shallow breaths. “Gross,” the autotune modder commented in modulated tones. “And–wow, it does smell like cupcakes, doesn’t it?” “I don’t get it, who would want a doll like this?” cyber-legs added. The smart one just said, “Come on, Messy Betsy. Say it again.” They knew it was wrong, they were saying a different name just to make Jay mad, but she took the bait anyway. She couldn’t make them put her down, she couldn’t get away, but she opened her eyes and glared. “It’s Jessy.” The third modder tightened their grip around the pullstring, giving just enough resistance that Jay could feel the mechanism engage, like a feeling of deja vu, trying to remember something on the tip of her tongue, a not-quite sensation. “Come on,” they repeated. “Say it, or I’ll make you say it.” Jay couldn’t call the fuzz, law enforcement wouldn’t help her. There were a couple bystanders at the stop, but none that were willing to help. And, Jay knew, if they pulled the drawstring again, her body would be emptied out. She only held enough for two pulls. The sensation of a full diaper was bad, the sensation of an empty stomach was worse. She broke, she gave in. She knew the six pre-recorded lines by heart, she could have said anyone, but she picked the one she thought the modder wanted to hear. She’d seen the adverts, starring another doll with her face, her body, a unique copy of her mind. Trembling, she asked, “Will you change my diaper, please?” The modder smirked. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Then, with a yank, they pulled the handle, string spooling out and then retracting once again. Coincidence chose Jay’s next line, but it felt more like fate. No quavering, no desperation, just a shameless question that she declared with her whole chest. “Will you change my diaper, please?” Her bowels voided for a second time, simulated mess swelling until her diaper had stretched to its maximum capacity. It didn’t leak or blow out, it was designed to contain precisely two accidents, though the padding swelled like a balloon and sagged almost down to her plastic knees. A hand ripped her dress, tearing the fabric at the waist so that her heavily stained diaper would be visible. Her backpack came away next. The modder holding her let go, and she fell to the ground with a heavy squelch, landing on the swollen seat of her diaper. Laughter rang in her ears, modders jostling each other to get in mocking quips. “Think she’s got anything in here?” the autotuned modder asked, rifling through her backpack. He produced both her spare diapers, her wipes, even the baggie of snacks, plasticky cookies made to mimic the Applied Synergistics-brand treats that had been sold on the doll aisle. She kept the baggie on hand to stave off accident-induced hunger pangs or just to reward herself when she needed to eat her feelings. “Just Synthhead crap,” cyber-legs replied, pointing at the sealed baggie of snacks. “I bet she’d suck dick for one of those cookies, though; they’re supposed to be addictive for artificials.” “Her mouth’s too small to suck dick,” the first said. “And your dick’s too small to feel it, so you’re a perfect match.” They all laughed, even the one who’d been insulted, though he moved on from the topic and focused on the bag once again. “Damn, nothing worth anything in here.” He turned the pack inside out and tossed it onto the maglev tracks, along with Jay’s spare diapers. Someone of a normal adult size might have been able to climb down and retrieve everything, but Jay was barely two feet tall and her things may as well have been on the moon. The bag of cookie snacks he turned upside down, dumping it onto the dirty cement floor. “Let’s get out of here.” The smart one pointed to the stairs. “It’s starting to stink down here.” Jay burned with anger and shame, along with a pedantic desire to correct the modder. It didn’t stink, even if Jay’s nose told her it did–everyone else would just smell cake batter. She had made the mistake of pointing that out to someone who’d been harassing her. That was a mistake she only made one time; it had ended with her face shoved into the front of her diapers, demanding to know if she liked the smell. This time, she kept her mouth shut and just remained curled up on the ground, breathing shallow breaths, waiting for the modders to wander away. A minute or two passed before she felt safe sitting up. Mostly alone, in a torn dress, backpack gone. She still had her Ident card and keys in a compartment in her arm, hidden from any idle thieves, but her body was wracked with hunger pangs and the overpowering stink from her diaper made her feel queasy. Crawling to the cookies on the ground, she picked one up, wiped off the dirt and crud as best she could, and popped it into her mouth. She didn’t have to worry about getting sick, but eating food off the ground still turned her stomach. Still, having something in her belly eased the ache, and she was able to collect herself. There was no point going to her job interview now, but she would have to go anyway. If she didn’t turn up, her profile on the net would be flagged, and her future prospects would grow even more dismal than they already were. Without a change of clothes, without even a fresh diaper, she’d have to take the maglev across town, wait for hours in a dingy room, be called, and then sit through the interview, knowing that nobody in the city would hire a two foot doll that showed up for the interview in a freshly filled diaper. As the maglev whooshed into the station, five minutes late, Jay picked herself up. She hated her body, from her voice to her diapers to her awful, horrible pull string, but it had one function that still gave her a bit of comfort. Squelching and crinkling her way onto the train, attracting smirks and gawking comments, Jay allowed herself to feel a tiny bit of gratitude that she had the ability to cry. ... Part two is in early access for my subs, and will be out publicly soon! My supporters help me write smut like this, and get early access and exclusive stories. If you have a couple bucks to spare around the holidays and think my writing is worth the support, I'd greatly appreciate it! https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

Hello friends, this is a repost - I was going to fill in the old thread that still had some of the comments, but that was deleted completely recently. So here we go. I'll be posting 2-3 chapters per day to allow for discussion (it'll be new for some people). When the story is done, I'll share a brand new one! ----------------------------- "No, Aimee, for the millionth time, I won't diaper you. You're my roommate, not my baby. I'm sorry your job sucks, but do you really want to just throw away your adulthood?" Fiona was exasperated at her roommate's constant attempts to get her to Amazon-up and baby her. She kept finding Little goods catalogs casually left around the apartment, showing happy Amazon mommies cuddling their fully-grown adult Littles. They watched the news together, they both knew how bad it could be on other islands. Catalon, for example, didn't even see Littles as persons. They were second-class citizens at best, pets at worst. No Little there went undiapered. Here on Gaule things were drastically different. Gaule still had a thriving native Little population, most of them fully functioning adults."Fiona, c'mon.. we've known each other forever. You can't honestly say you haven't wanted to see me in a diaper, even one time?" Aimee blinked her long black eyelashes at her roommate. She had her blonde hair in ringlets and was wearing a pink t-shirt with Tinkerbell on it, Patron Saint of Diapered Littles, under her shortalls. She purposefully dressed in a way that made her cute and vulnerable. She had the blonde hair and blue eyes that most Amazons prized, but Fiona just wouldn't budge."I can honestly say I have never wanted to see you in a diaper, you silly Little. If you want to be adopted that badly, why don't you just go stand in the middle of a store and pee yourself?" Fiona folded her arms across her chest, covering up the TARDIS on her worn t-shirt. She leaned away slightly from her pushy roomie."Owie," Aimee frowned, "I don't want just anyone, Fi.. if I did that, who knows what would happen. I could end up in an orphanage or something, I don't want that. And my job sucks more than you can even imagine. And it's not like you need my help to pay the rent! You just got promoted AGAIN." Fiona would be the perfect mommy, Aimee just knew it. She knew that if she could just get her friend to buckle once, to see how wonderful it was to snuggle someone who needed you, everything would just fall into place. She stared up into her friend's green eyes, reaching up and flipping her tight brown ponytail. Fiona hated makeup and her long hair, she'd shave it off if she could, but she needed it in her climb to the top at work."I have zero interest in taking care of someone's diapers, and you're an adult. You're my friend. We play games and watch movies. And yes, I got promoted but that doesn't mean you can just give up on being an adult. How is your job that bad?""I'm a greeter, Fiona. A greeter. I greet people. I stand on top of a big platform in a cutesy costume and I welcome people into the store. For eight hours. Each day. I already wear diapers at the store, they're not a big deal. They're actually really comfy. I hate changing myself though, and I hate using our stupid giant toilet here." Fiona didn't mind all the Little-aid devices that were around the house that allowed Aimee to live a normal, adult life. The ladder on the toilet didn't seem like it would be that bad to her."Tough nuggets, Aims. I'm not changing your diapers, you aren't my Little. If you're so keen on being a baby, why haven't you put out an ad or gotten adopted by someone while you're on the job?""Oh yeah, I want someone I don't know, or someone who works at the same awful store as I do as my mommy. No. My badge says clearly that I'm licensed, nobody can claim me without my permission. I give you permission!" Aimee flung herself into Fiona's arms, knocking Fiona's controller out of her hands, clutching at her shirt and clinging to her."Ugh," Fiona pushed the Little back onto her own couch cushion, "For the last time, no. And it's your turn to cook tonight. Finish your move in the game and go start dinner while I take my turn.""It's not fair," Aimee whined, turning back to the TV and picking up her controller, "I thought all you Amazons had crazy hormones that made you want to baby cute Littles like me." Aimee put in her orders, instructing her civilization that all Littles should be diapered no matter what, which caused her international reputation to plummet. She ended up making choices like these in most of the games they played, Littles ended up diapered like it was the way things were supposed to be. Fiona thought her dear friend should probably visit a therapist to talk about it, but any time she pressed the issue, things went very badly."You're not as cute as you think," Fiona tickled her roommate as she delivered the joke, "And who would honestly want to wipe someone else's butt? I've never understood it.""You're supposed to want to, we're supposed to be irresistible. I know it's not me, I get asked to come home with a customer at least once a week," Aimee sighed, knowing not to push this too far, Fiona would get really upset if anyone implied she was abnormal, "I just wish you wanted me that way, Fi. You're really great." Fiona allowed Aimee to lay her blonde curls across her Amazon lap. Aimee finished her turn from this odd angle, it didn't matter that they watched each others' turns - they always had it set so they were in a permanent alliance. It was always the two of them against the world.With a dramatic sigh, Aimee put the controller down on the coffee table and trudged to the kitchen. Aimee was actually a really good cook, she had this knack for knowing exactly what spices and what proportions to use, she never used a cookbook or a recipe. Tonight was chicken enchiladas, one of Fiona's absolute favorite of Aimee's dishes. Fiona chose to dream of her wonderful, gooey, cheesy chicken delights rather than focusing on how Aimee was getting incredibly pushy again. She hadn't pushed this hard in a while, things must actually be pretty rough at her job. The last time she got in a big fight at work, before she changed jobs, Aimee had actually started having "accidents" in the apartment, but Fiona had made it clear that she was either to take care of her own diapers or find another place to live. They'd been friends forever, but she just wasn't going to deal with that. Aimee's bladder control returned miraculously shortly afterward.Aimee was right, they didn't need her money to pay for anything in the apartment. Fiona had just made VP at work and money was not an issue.. but she really, truthfully had no interest in owning a Little. She never had, no one in her family did. She had grown up very nearby a Little community and had been friends with many in her youth, the thought of treating her good friend like a baby was just weird. She didn't understand why anyone would want it at all. Littles were adults, they weren't as smart or as strong as an Amazon, but they grew up and learned things and had thoughts and feelings just like anyone. They could be productive members of society, they could fall in love. Not that Fiona understood a lot about love, either.She focused on her turn, using her civilization to make peace on behalf of their alliance. The President of her democratic government was a Little, and had to spend a lot of time explaining her backwards partner's anti-Little attitudes. Honestly, it made the game more challenging. Fiona hated it when they teamed up and the game was too easy, she may as well just play solitaire. But she got to build up her military to defend Aimee's borders and work out the diplomacy, while at the same time protecting her own Littles from the worldwide attitude shift that Aimee's civ caused.Dinner was wonderful as always, Aimee put Fiona's own culinary skills completely to shame. The spanish rice and black beans were perfect. Fiona took just a moment to wipe the footprints off the countertops, it was totally and completely worth it. As was the deal, Fiona took care of all of the dishes on Aimee's night to cook. She helped Aimee down from her Littles chair and took her cartoonish pony plate and rubber fork. Aimee bought those with her own money, she wasn't going to make her get rid of them. If Aimee really wanted to wear diapers and be a baby, that was fine.. as long as she did her share of the chores, kept cooking her wonderful meals, and took care of her own diapers. In fairness, Aimee's share of the chores was smaller. She had to go to extra effort to make meals large enough to satisfy Fiona's Amazonian hunger so Fiona took care of the majority of the chores in general, especially the ones that would require more strength than Aimee had. Fiona took care of most of the dishes and the garbage, Aimee did a lot of the cooking and always took care of her own laundry.As usual, the pair stayed up a little bit too late playing their game. Aimee fell asleep on the couch during a particularly difficult turn for Fiona, who carried her off to bed and tucked her in. Aimee had to struggle very hard not to smile as her giant friend carried her, cradled in her strong arms. She "fell asleep" like this quite often, she'd hate to tip off Fiona that it wasn't always real. Being carried was addictive though, Fiona was always so careful, so gentle. Before leaving the Little's bedroom with its tiny furniture, she shook her head as she picked up a fallen pacifier and dropped it on Aimee's desk. She slipped out quietly and closed the door, then closed the smaller, Little door as well with a soft click.Fiona was pretty sure that her Little friend's longing was just a "grass is always greener" situation, she wouldn't actually like life as a babified Little. And even though she had mentioned it, she would be heartbroken if an Amazon came and took her best friend away from her. Somehow she didn't think she'd be able to go have video game playdates as a visitor in a nursery. She sighed as she climbed into her own normal-sized bed, fully expecting to wake up to Aimee snuggled in her arms in the morning. The thought brought a smile. They were best friends, but Fiona really did love Aimee in a way. She wasn't exactly sure in what way, and she wouldn't ever call the feeling "love", but she knew it was there.Her thoughts turned to the stresses of her new position. She was rubbing elbows with a different class of people now, there was a big difference between being a Senior Director in the firm and a Vice-President. Tomorrow was the start of her second week in her new office on the 14th floor, and she was still finding her footing. She wasn't used to having a secretary or having to talk to people outside the firm as part of the job. It was a new skill set she was having to hone. She had the knowledge and the expertise from the internal-facing side, but she had to succeed in this external interfacing capacity if she were going to continue her climb. It had been a long, hard road but she hadn't reached the peak yet. And she wasn't going to give that dream up for anything. Fiona was on a path to make her mark on the whole world, not just to help bring products to the market that made Little lives easier in Gaule, she wanted to reach a position where she could help Native Littles everywhere. Chapter Two Aimee struggled down from the booster seat in the back seat of the car and let herself out. She crossed in front of Fiona's car and waved to her friend to let her know she was okay. Aimee still had to go put on her uniform, it was in the breakroom with her work diapers. Fiona waved back, her hair coiffed perfectly and her dark blue suit immaculate. A gold bracelet glinted on Fiona's wrist as she waved, and then she was gone. Off to live the life of someone with power, while Aimee struggled into her diaper and her hated costume to stand and wave at people who barely paid her any mind. She wished that Fiona would change her mind, even if it was just for a week, and let her be the baby. Stay home, watch TV, snuggle... it sounded amazing. The ultimate vacation, free from all cares and worries, she wouldn't have to do anything at all..."Hey mascot," the voice snapped her back to reality. Kurt. "Need help getting into your diapers?""Kurt, that sounds suspiciously like sexual harassment to me, do I need to go talk with Helen again?" Aimee whirled on him, hands on her hips. Kurt was a jerk, he was only a couple of feet taller than her. He was one of those In-Betweeners who made themselves feel better by being mean to Littles, he was the personification of the idiom 'Shit rolls downhill'. His greasy brown mop hung down into his eyes and his face was broken out in blemishes, he just didn't seem to care enough to take care of himself. He wore the standard uniform, black slacks with a brown collared shirt. He leered at her as he responded."Offering to help a Little into a diaper isn't sexual harassment any more than offering to help a fish flopping on the ground back into the water. You know where you belong, baby girl. Like all Littles, you're just waiting for the right Amazon to scoop you up and whisk you off to a life of bottles and diapers. Everyone knows you like your work uniform.""Go fuck yourself, Kurt," the Little stormed off toward the employee ready area, Kurt couldn't see the tears in her eyes as she left. What hurt the most was that he was right, though. If Fiona offered to sweep her away to a life of cribs and bottles, she'd take it with glee. It was her favorite fantasy. But Kurt made her feel like she was betraying Littles everywhere just by having these feelings.Being Little in an Amazon's world sucks, why shouldn't I want to be cared for and loved? Work sucks, having to struggle to climb everything sucks, finding transportation sucks. Why is it so wrong to want Fiona to just pick me up and carry me? If diapers go with that, fine by me - they're cute and comfy anyway. She was consumed by her thoughts as she locked the door of the employee ready room and stripped. I should probably go to the bathroom first, she thought - she almost always did that first, but Kurt threw her routine off. She laid down and powdered herself as best she could, pulling the medical-looking plain white diaper up between her legs and fastening the tapes. She'd be standing up on the greeting platform for the next eight hours with only a few breaks and the bathroom was on the other side of the store. She had learned quickly that if she spent her break time using the bathroom... she never got a break.Aimee toddled out of the ready room in her neck-to-toe teddy bear costume, the round ear headband atop her blonde curls. The original costume had a head, but they found the customers responded much better to Aimee's bouncing locks, so the manager modified it. They'd actually done an empirical study and discovered that Aimee provided a not insignificant boost in sales when she was the greeter... but they didn't tell her that, of course."Hey Aimee," Helen's voice came from behind Aimee as she toddled toward the front of the store, "Need a lift?""Sure, I'd like that," Aimee agreed, raising her arms. She liked being carried in general, especially when she was having trouble getting around like she did in the bear costume. Helen was a true giantess, too - she was easily a foot taller than the average Amazon, so Aimee felt delightfully small in her arms. Helen scooped her up and smiled down at her as she walked toward the front of the store. "Are you okay? You look a little upset.""You mean I look like an upset Little," Aimee joked, "Kurt was just being a jerk, saying stuff about how Littles belong in diapers, his usual stuff. It just got to me today.""I can talk to him if you'd like," Helen offered, smiling down at Aimee. She had thought about offering to adopt Aimee before, but she had never worked up the courage. Aimee already had to deal with wearing diapers as part of her job, she probably hated the idea of being babied, or so Helen thought. She carried Aimee in one arm and ran her fingers through her short-cut blonde hair. She had brown eyes to Aimee's blue, but they were similar enough in complexion that you could believe for a moment that Aimee was really Helen's relative. "He's got to stop picking on you, it's unprofessional.""Thanks, Helen.. but no," Aimee declined as Helen placed her on the platform above the carts at the front of the store, "I'll handle it. I'll try not to let him get me down. Thanks for looking out for me.""Any time, Aimee. You're a good friend to me," Helen smiled warmly at the Little dressed as a teddy bear, but Aimee didn't pick up on the sad longing that hid just behind that smile."You're a great friend too, Helen," she waved as her giant friend walked away. She turned toward the people walking into the store and shouted, "Welcome to Sir Bearington's! Be sure to check out our special on Little ladders! They're beary great!"* * *Fiona pulled the sedan into her designated parking spot, close to the building. Of all the small perks that came with the new title, the reserved spot was one she enjoyed quite a lot. Her car looked a bit out of place, a simple Honda sandwiched in between a pair of BMWs. She didn't have much practice at being one of the "fancy people", but this was part of the game you had to play if you wanted enough power to make a real difference. She'd have to upgrade her car soon, after another month or two in her new job. Fiona hated buying things on credit, she had an old-fashioned philosophy of wanting pay for things outright and not be beholden to anyone.She smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt as she slid out of the car, grabbing her briefcase from the passenger seat. She sighed at the cheeseburger wrappers Aims had left in the back seat, she'd have to get her Little roommate to clean those up, she couldn't afford the hit to her image at work. They'd just have to excuse her for now, the booster seat would provide all the explanation she needed for the moment. The elevator ride to the 14th floor was pleasant, if a little lonely.. as Senior Director she mingled with her product team a lot, now that she was VP she was a little isolated up there with the executives, but this still felt like the right move."Good morning, Miss Marr," Carol's voice floated across the office as soon as Fiona stepped out of the elevator. This was the hardest thing for her get used to, having a dedicated assistant. She and several other Directors had shared an office assistant before, so it wasn't the fact that her only job was to help out.. it was just that Carol's only duty at all was to help Fiona. Carol was a little bit older than Fiona, but not by much. Today she was wearing a classic red blouse with a lovely gold necklace that matched her gold hoops, her earlobes exposed by her high braided honey brown hair. She was an earth tone and her makeup was perfect with just a touch of eye shadow ad the faintest gloss on her lips. Carol was an expert at wearing just enough makeup to look like she wasn't wearing any at all."Good morning, Carol. But please, call me Fiona," Fiona reminded her gently. She'd been with the company for a long time, almost as long as I had, but always as an executive assistant."Right, sorry Miss M... Fiona," Carol was very good at her job, but old habits die hard, "Your 11 AM called, Mr. Whitmore, he can't come to the office for the meeting today but he said he'd be happy to meet with you at the club."The club, Fiona cursed in her head. She didn't have a membership yet, but she knew she'd need one eventually. Osmium was an fairly exclusive club that many of the movers-and-shakers she'd need to interface with belonged to. A lot of business was done there, and getting on the membership roll was on Fiona's to do list. It was looking like that one would get crossed off sooner rather than later."Please confirm with Mr. Whitmore, I'll be happy to meet him at Osmium," she smiled to Carol as she strode into her office, but she wasn't exactly happy. "Please move my 1 o'clock to allow for travel time." Carol chirped a confirmation, the one PM was an internal briefing, it could wait. Getting Mr. Whitmore's agency to approve the new designs for the Little Pilot seat her team was working on for testing by actual Littles. The design was revolutionary, it used a low-latency neural interface that when installed and configured would allow a Little to drive a full sized car with no further modifications. Littles could technically drive currently, but not all roads had a Little lane, and it was still very dangerous for them, most Littles relied on ride-shares which had their own risks, or public transportation. This would give Littles worldwide more freedom than they had had... well, possibly ever. Lawrence Whitmore was the head of the LPSA, the Littles Product Safety Administration, and Fiona needed his agency to sign off on the testing before they could go any further. It wouldn't be easy due to the social ramifications of the new product, and getting to Mr. Whitmore himself was the fastest strategy.Fiona sat down at her desk and started with the emails that had piled up overnight. She knew the morning would fly by in no time and she'd have to be on her way to the club, she'd need time to do the membership application.. there was no time to waste.* * *Greeting felt like such a waste of time. She just said the same thing over and over - it could be done by a robot, why did they want an actual Little in a bear costume shouting at customers?"Oh my, the cute mascot is working again today," she heard a passing Amazon remark. "I like her much better than the one with the bear mask, she's so adorable! Did you see her ringlets.. " the conversation faded as they walked away, but Aimee felt good. She liked knowing that people thought she was cute. Of course, most of the Little customers didn't seem to approve of her getup, neither the ones who walked in of their own will nor the ones riding in the front of a cart, sucking on a pacifier. She watched jealously as an Amazon mommy pushed a Little girl into the store, the girl had very similar ringlets to Aimee's own. If only that were Fiona and me, she daydreamed for a moment, a dream of Fiona pushing her in a cart like that.. leaning forward and squeezing her diaper and remarking how she would need to be changed soon.."Gaule to Aimee," Kurt's voice shattered her daydream into a million pieces, "Helen's been calling you on the intercom, dummy. Walk your bear butt to her office and then take your break.""Ugh," she groaned, "Thanks Kurt," she said grudgingly as he helped her down off the platform."Sure thing, squirt. Hey, sorry I was rough on you this morning. I.. had a bad night," he walked off before she could respond, but any kind of apology was nice. Aimee wondered if Helen had said something to him. Waddling to the manager's office in a wet diaper and a bear costume took forever, she wondered if she'd have any break time at all when this was done."Great job representing us Littles," a Little man in a t-shirt and jeans said snidely as she passed, "I can smell your piss from here." Aimee blushed and hurried on, she knew she should have gone before putting the costume on, she was wetter than usual for this time of day and the medical grade diapers the company provided weren't the best, it was barely 11 AM - there was still a lot of time left in the workday. By the time she made it to Helen's office, she was fighting tears, feeling betrayed by her own desires. Yes, she was wearing the diaper for the job... but she'd gladly let Fiona diaper her for real, all she had to do was ask. It felt like her fellow Littles could see that hidden desire, and they hated her for her traitorous feelings.She pushed open the Little-sized door cut out in the larger door to the manager's office and closed it quietly behind her."Helen? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you calling me over the intercom, I was shouting at people to buy ladders," Aimee walked into the office looking for her giant boss, faking a smile, "What's up?""Aimee," Helen smiled from the enormous desk. She got up from her seat and crouched down to be "on the level", as they said. "I have great news! You're Employee of the Month! We've gotten so many compliments on your greeting that they're giving you a $100 gift card to the store as thanks. And I get to give it to you," Helen beamed a genuine smile at Aimee as she handed over the card in a gold holder. "Great job, Aimee. Your picture will be up in the entrance this month. Congratulations!""Wow," Aimee stammered a bit, genuinely surprised, "Thanks Helen, I had no idea I was even being considered!""Take an extra ten minutes on your break and keep up the good work, Aimee." Helen was genuinely proud of the Little, and it took everything she had not to scoop her up and give her a big hug. The smile on the girl's face lit up Helen's entire world. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to sweep up this cute thing and snuggle her, to feed her and protect her and never let anything make her sad ever again. She had really laid into Kurt this morning, she watched him like a hawk for a screw-up and nailed him to the wall for it. Something about Aimee brought out every Amazon instinct in Helen.. and it took incredible willpower to keep that in check, especially because she already knew that this wonderful Little was already diapered, and probably wet too.Aimee felt light as a feather as she headed back to the ready room to stash her giftcard and change her diaper, when she felt a hand on her shoulder."Oh, what a cute Little, where's your mommy?" the woman asked, bending over Aimee in a way that was intended to intimidate her. Her accent said clearly that she wasn't from around here, "Your diapee smells so wet, Little one. Let's get you to your mommy so you can be changed.""Back off, lady," Aimee said grumpily, holding up her employee badge, "It says clearly that I'm licensed. I'm on my way to change right now, thank you very much.""Oh," the woman practically hissed as she stormed away, "You shouldn't send false signals, brat. This island is so backwards, it's ridiculous.""Have a nice day," Aimee called after her in her most pleasant tone, but more quietly added, "I hope you trip and break a bone." She was grateful for her license, it kept her from being scooped up by just anyone... there was only one woman she wanted as her mommy. And she doesn't want me, Aimee thought bitterly to herself as she reached the ready room, ...yet, she finished the thought with a smile. Chapter Three Fiona's car was sorely out of place in the sea of Audis, BMWs, and Lexuses as she parked in the guest lot of Osmium. The grounds were enormous and the clubhouse was austere and intimidating. On her way up the stairs to the entrance, she passed a man in a power suit with a red tie talking on his phone as a Little in a poofy princess dress ran to keep up with him, the lead to her reins held in his left hand. She shook her head, feeling badly for the poor Little. This was the kind of thing she was out to fix."Good morning, ma'am," she was greeted warmly by a man in a black turtleneck behind a counter. He was balding on top, his hair shaved short to hide it, "Can I help you?""Yes, I'm a bit early for my meeting with Mr. Whitmore. I don't suppose you could help me with a membership application?" I smiled warmly to him as I strode over to the counter."Of course, madam," the man smiled pleasantly, but didn't move an inch, "I just need to know the name of your sponsor and the name, gender, and age range of your Little." The sponsor she had expected, she already worked it out with her boss that she would use his name.. the part about the Little was a surprise."Dean Jackstone is my sponsor," she smiled, handing him a card with perfect confidence."Mr. Jackstone, really! Oh he is a fine member, quite well-liked," he took the card, his demeanor warming, they went through the initial paperwork and were just about done when he asked, "And your Little?""I don't have a Little currently," Fiona stated this quite matter-of-factly."I'm afraid all members must have a Little, Miss Marr. It's part of the club bylaws. I'll be happy to let you in today for your meeting with Mr. Whitmore, but just for today. Only members are allowed is Osmium, and they expect all members to support our care facility for Littles. Adopt yourself a Little and we'll finish your application. I'm sure you could have one today in your position." He sounded a little jealous.Ugh, I don't even want a Little, what am I going to do about this membership? Fiona wondered to herself as she entered the club proper. The entire right wall of the club was glass, looking down into a giant plastic jungle. Dozens of Littles ran and played in there, obvious diapers on display. Fiona shook her head, this is what she was trying to fight, not trying to encourage. The man from the desk led her deeper into the club, she was in what looked like a large restaurant, waiters bustled about, various bigwigs were dining or drinking. Littles were obviously meant to be seen and not heard in this part of the club, the few that were in the dining area had auto-feeder pacifier-bottles strapped to their faces for their meals, or were otherwise silenced by breasts or restraining pacifiers. All conversation was done in hushed tones, silence was apparently golden.The balding man led her to a back corner, what looked like private booths.. each booth had its own curtain. She was asked to wait while he peeked into a curtain, she only waited a moment, he returned and motioned for her to enter the right side of the curtained booth. Lawrence Whitmore, a very large, very wide man sat across from her. He had tiny, round glasses perched on his nose.. they had to be for show, it was very rare that someone who needed vision correction had a condition that couldn't be solved with an easy surgery. He had a pencil-thin black mustache and a dusting of gray hair on top of his head. The position of his bushy white eyebrows indicated that he was in a serious mood at the moment."Miss Marr," he greeted me. His booth was lavish, the seats were a soft leather and there was plenty of room between the seat and the table. There was a Little in the corner, strapped into a booster seat with his elbows secured to the table, his hands forced to hold a bottle that he sucked from, his eyes closed. He was dressed in shortalls with a blue shirt underneath.. why in the world would Aimee want that? "You've got quite an interesting project that you're working on. Do you really think Littles can be trusted to drive?" He looked pointedly at his captive Little."The majority of Gaule's Littles are perfectly capable, Mr. Whitmore. They have jobs, they pay taxes, and they are perfectly capable adults. It's true that there are some Littles who shouldn't be driving," I smile at his Little, hating myself just a bit, "but I doubt any Amazon is going to allow their diapered Little to get a license, unless you intend for Little... ""Rusty," Lawrence smiled, with what looked like genuine love."Little Rusty here to chauffeur you?" Fiona finished with a smirk, hating herself just a bit more. The mental image caused the large businessman to laugh heartily, and Rusty blushed deeply, looking very much like he wished the world would swallow him whole. "We both know that Littles are big business, both in diapers and in the workforce. And giving them this mobility will increase their employability and thus their spending. I know I'll be making some strategic investments when this product is ready for market... " she finished with a sly smile.A waiter came and took their order - Fiona hadn't really intended to eat here, but Lawrence insisted. Fiona kept herself to a simple club sandwich and chips, Lawrence had quite a large steak with all the trimmings. She stayed and ate lunch with him and they talked stocks and sports while he spoonfed his Little some of what looked like yogurt. Rusty still hadn't spoken a word. This meeting was running much longer than she had intended, Fiona was very glad she had already asked Carol to move her 1 PM."You've definitely piqued my interest," Lawrence turned back to Fiona's original topic after the meal was concluded. "Unfortunately, I'm out of time for today. Would you be willing to meet me here again on Thursday? I want to review your plans personally, have you explain them, and if I'm satisfied I will personally promote your Little Pilot to the department.""That is exactly what I was hoping to hear, Mr. Whitmore," I smiled, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Rusty." His Little blushed and hid his face in his still-secured hands, which caused Lawrence to laugh. Fiona slid out of the booth with her briefcase and made her way for the exit, pondering the best way to secure her membership...* * *It was like Amazons were all members of the same club, they all seemed to have the same jokes. Aimee had just heard the, "Oh she'd look cuter in a crib," joke for the hundredth time today, but nothing was going to get her down. She was Employee of the Month and it felt great. All the cooing and fawning over her, the not even whispered questions about whether or not she was diapered under the costume only reinforced the fact that she was desirable goods to Aimee. Fiona should be begging to change her diaper! She was so cute, she was the Little every Amazon wanted, it just didn't make sense. They had been best friends forever, why didn't Fiona want to take things to the next level? Aimee shook the thoughts away, focusing on the crowd."Good afternoon sir," she greeted a Little as he walked in, "Welcome to Sir Bearington's!""Thanks," he said gruffly, grabbing a cart and heading inside."Hello pretty lady," she smiled and batted her eyes at an incoming Amazon, she didn't have a Little but seemed like the type who wanted one. She wore a simple blue dress and sandals, and had a lovely blue leather purse that matched her outfit. "Welcome to Sir Bearington's!""Oh my goodness, aren't you the cutest thing?" the Amazon cooed up at her on her platform. "Does your mommy work here, sweetie?"Normally this sort of thing annoyed Aimee a bit, but she was feeling so good today. Knowing that Helen and the company appreciated her work made all the difference in the world and she was feeling really good about greeting people. The whole day just felt brighter after the lunch break, which she spent a good chunk of the time staring at the gold envelope. She wasn't even sure what she wanted to buy with it."No pretty lady," she smiled, wishing she could curl a finger through her hair.. but all she had was a bear paw, "I don't have a mommy, I'm licensed.""Oh, such a shame. A cute little thing like you shouldn't have to work, although you're doing a wonderful job!"I know, right? Aimee agreed silently. I shouldn't have to work, I'm cute! "Thank you ma'am," Aimee smiled, "I like my job though and my Amazon bestie would be disappointed in me if I gave it up." The first half of the sentence would have been a lie just this morning, but Aimee was feeling really good about the job today, it was silly what a big difference a gesture of thanks had on the attitude."Well, not everyone can have the right opinion on what a cute thing like you should be doing with her time, I suppose," the lady smiled, "If you were my Little, I'd never let you go.""Aww, that's nice," Aimee smiled, knowing full well that the nicest gesture from the nicest Amazon could just be a trap. Once a Little was adopted, there was no way out. You only wanted to enter that kind of relationship if you knew you wanted it to be forever... like it should be with Fiona. Wonderful Fiona, Aimee fawned, who would never hurt me or make me do anything unfun. This lady seemed nice, but for all Aimee knew, she was a total sadist with a fully decked out punishment nursery waiting. Some Littles liked that, after all... Aimee, not so much."Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime, cutie?" The Amazon flashed an amazingly white smile.. it was dazzling."I uh.. " Aimee was sorely tempted, dating an Amazon while licensed was mostly safe, as long as she didn't get full-on kidnapped. This lady didn't seem like the predatory type..."Aimee," Helen's voice came from behind her, "I need your help with something. Are you available?" Helen had been watching this whole scene unfold and a cold fear gripped her heart. She couldn't bear to see Aimee get abducted, sometimes the nicest-seeming Amazons were the craziest ones. This particular lady looked like the type who wouldn't give Helen the time of day, so she was immediately distrustful. Amazon women tended not to like Helen, or so she felt, because she was so big and tall. She didn't have many friends in school and she was often ostracized as awkward. This lady seemed like the sort that would have picked on her back then. For all her trepidation regarding females, Amazon males were even worse. It was extremely rare that she could find one as tall as she was, and no one seemed to want to date someone taller than them. It severely limited Helen's fashion choices, and she was quite jealous of the lady's chunky-heeled sandals. Adding even a few inches to Helen's already above average height was awful, but she wanted to wear cute shoes too."I gotta go, sorry," Aimee excused herself and climbed down from the platform. Helen desperately wanted to scoop up Aimee and hold her close, but she had to show the lady that Aimee was a strong and independent Little, even helping her down from the platform would only encourage her to pursue. The woman lingered as Aimee toddled over to Helen. "What's up, boss?" she asked cheerfully.Helen gestured for Aimee to follow and walked slowly away from the woman, trying to think up some excuse for why she needed Aimee. She hadn't at all, but the thought of Aimee going out with that... temptress sent her into a complete panic."I um," Helen hesitated, "It's stupid, but I can't get my computer to respond." The lie was plausible, Aimee wasn't a tech wizard or anything, but she knew her way around. Helen was no dummy either, but she could claim the problem was real and had fixed itself, "I was hoping you could poke at it. I have to get a report done today.""Sure thing, boss!" Aimee beamed, toddling along next to Helen at what was a painfully slow pace for her. Aimee was overjoyed at being asked to help, today was positively fantastic. The journey to the manager's office was a long one, and neither of them noticed the lady from the entrance casually following them, looking at merchandise here and there. She only gave up once the door to the manager's office was closed."Okay," Aimee said brightly, climbing up with a considerable degree of difficulty into Helen's chair. "Let's see what we can see." She tapped the screen and the keyboard and the computer sprung to life. Aimee did a couple of standard gestures and the computer responded correctly. "You say it was frozen?""Of course it's working now," Helen smiled nervously, a tell that she was lying - one she wasn't even aware she did, "Sorry for wasting your time, Aimee. Computers always seem to do this to me, they work fine as soon as I ask for help.""I hate that," Aimee commiserated, "Well, I guess I should get back to greeting people.""Actually," Helen said a little too quickly, "I was wondering if you could do some sorting for me. It'll probably take you the rest of the day, you'll be in the back so you can switch to your street clothes." Helen was really worried about that lady, she could be lurking around, just waiting for Aimee to return to the front and Helen to walk away. "Do you mind?""Of course not, I'm happy to help you however I can," Aimee hadn't really thought much about Helen, other than as the often-hated authority figure at work, but she felt really valued today and Helen was a big part of that. She wanted to make Helen happy, and it would be nice to get out of the uniform for a while. "I'll head to the ready room and go change, and meet you back here?""Well," Helen started and hesitated, "Would you mind if I carried you?" She was terrified that she was pushing her luck, most Littles would be incredibly offended at the question. "Just to save some time, err.. not that you're slow or anything, I just walk quite fast for an Amazon.""Sure! I don't mind, having short legs sucks," Aimee turned the chair and lifted her arms up, ready to be carried... and Helen felt weak in the knees. She shouldn't fantasize about an employee, but she really wanted this. She felt her cheeks grow warm as she picked Aimee up and placed her on one hip. Helen had never walked faster in her life, it was a speed-walk, it was almost a run. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt like she might faint. "Wow," Aimee remarked, "You really are fast! It must have been torture for you walking from the front, I'm sorry.""Oh, no.. it's no big deal," Helen stammered a bit. She would need to calm herself down actively while Aimee changed. "I don't mind, it's relaxing to walk at a slower pace. My sister says I need to slow down anyway."Helen leaned against the wall with a hand against her chest, steadying her breathing as Aimee went and changed. She hoped no one else was watching.

“Today we bring these vile criminals and sinners to justice. Their long reign of terror and destruction ends here." The Executioner’s words don’t particularly cut me deep. I’ve heard this countless times before. He stands before a large and angry crowd he’s whipped into a frenzy. How painfully nostalgic. I am but one of the several so-called "criminals and sinners" up on the menu today, and we’re a bit tied up at the moment. A long dark cloak hides my body and the hands cuffed behind my back. My noose is just a little tight, and my short stature is forcing me to the tips of my toes to keep from choking. Surely the work of amateurs, I’ve partaken in better executions. “Here we have Arthur, a member of the insurgency working against this Kingdom. His crimes are as follows…” ... *Thunk* Ah, they’re finally getting started. Sadly my position seems to be towards the end, leaving me a bit more time. I’m tired. So tired. Mentally, physically, spiritually. I just wish they’d hurry. “Cursed [[Witch]], there is no place in this world for you.” These are the first words I remember hearing and comprehending. It was the dawn of mankind and I was an unfortunate orphan left to the whims of an uncivilized world. To avoid the abuses of my adoptive tribe I began learning from their Shaman. I excelled; weaving and working the magic in the atmosphere was as simple as breathing. However, it brought no relief, and I was used even more as a tool by the tribe. I brought ruin to many a settlement during this time. Again, and again. The death and destruction became too much for my feeble heart to bear, thus I left. Isolation is better than being used as a weapon capable of bringing only demise and despair. Or so I thought. “Next up is Justine, a murderous wench. Her crimes are as follows…” ... *Thunk* I spent too much time in the mountains, perfecting my magic beyond the limits of humanity. Delving into long forgotten taboos. Foolishly I began tattooing my body with spells using a magical but poisonous ink. And when I ran out of room, I took to my eyelids, the inside of my mouth, and even my eyes. The pain was insufferable, but it was nothing compared to the pain of being used as a tool of destruction. The spell was more of a curse. A blasphemy against the concept of [[God]] itself. My life to this point had been one of loneliness and pain. In a moment of weakness, I had a thought. “If I could live forever… Maybe something good could happen to someone like me…”. And so, I gifted myself a never aging and never dying body. It was roughly a century later, on my 125th birthday, that I would leave the mountains. My tanned skin, brown eyes, and brown hair all dyed mostly black with my immortal curse. I had stopped growing and aging at 25 and ended at a lithe 5ft tall. Hope shined in my ruined eyes, that things could be different in this second chance at life. I was a fool. For every happy moment gifted to me by eternity, I received a thousand agonies in return. New friends and family were found, giving me momentary peace. All gone in the blink of an eye as I buried loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after lov------ “Next up is Alexander, a murdering and thieving bandit caught in the woods. His crimes are as follows…” ... *Thunk* My heart is heavy. Recalling the names and faces of those I’ve left behind is worse than a thousand executions. Tens of thousands of years have passed since my birth. Happiness still out of reach. To save those dear to me I had to intervene with the world more than I’d have liked. Involving myself in political and military matters. I became a tool once more on many occasions. And when it was convenient, or I was no longer useful, they sought to end me in fear. Cruel [[Witch]] how could you poison his majesty. Abhorrent [[Witch]] you’re the cause of the crop failures. Evil [[Witch]] it was you who tempted our knights to commit heinous war crimes. Forcefully shouldering the blame again and again, I was put to death. Over and over. After my executions I would pretend it had worked. After burial I would exit my tomb and leave for the next country. Repeating this endless loop of gain and loss. The boundless hope that once shone in my eyes was replaced with bottomless despair. This was not the happiness I had wished for… Surely this is my punishment. “Here we have the vile [[Witch]], she is a plague on our kingdom. Her crimes are as follows…” This may take a while. The crimes they’ve manufactured against me are innumerable. After all I’ve done to help, we’re back here again. I see a dear friend in the crowd, Elizabeth. Don’t look at me with those teary eyes. Our time together was painfully short, but I will carry it with me to eternity. I’ve seen your pure soul with my magically infused eyes, you have a bright and pure future unsuited to this world. I try to smile at her, but it doesn’t reach my dead eyes. How much longer must I endure this? For all my power, why can I not end this bitter cycle? I don’t care to rule over anyone. I don’t care to throw about my power. I just want to love and be loved in return. “[[Witch]], have you any last words?” I have words. The unfairness of it all. This rotten world… if I had to say anything… “This world, is truly meaningless…” ... *Thunk* The floor beneath my feet falls away. My neck snaps as I gasp for air and flail my limbs, for it is all I can do. Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts. I t. H u r t s. I scream internally, the pain consuming all reasonable thought. After putting on a short show I cast a spell to put myself into a long sleep and spare myself more pain. The next time I wake, it will be in another tomb. Just once. If you’re listening. Give me a happy ending. ~~~ Time passes as it does. I wake. My body stiff and sore from its long slumber. The sun shines brightly in my eyes. This is not a tomb, but a field. I stand to gather my bearings and view my surroundings. Gone are the humble abodes of the peasantry. Gone are the cobble streets. Gone are everything I had known to this point. Before me stands a grand city. A city of metal and glass. Chapter 1: The End _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ First time writer on the board here. I've been writing DnD campaigns and thought combining a world/character of magic with the Diaper Dimension might be interesting. Sorry if the first chapter is a little dark/sad, but I felt it would be a good introduction to the character. I wrote this on a whim for the most part haha. It was an idea buzzing in my head and I had to get at least this chapter out. If people are interested in more chapters let me know! Feedback would also be appreciated!

Here we go again! This story takes place in the same universe as Classified: A New Life, and if you haven't read that, you should read it first. This is a much less whimsical tale, but one that I hope fleshes out the universe a bit more, as well as being enjoyable to read. It covers some pretty dark stuff as the story goes along, so read at your own risk. Here we go, and please do tell me what you think! ##### Prologue: Starquake “Fuck!” Lily Bronsen snarls. She trembles with rage, wondering how the universe could possibly be so unfair. “What’s wrong?” One of her roommates, Alex, pokes her head out of the kitchen; her blonde hair is tied up in a bun. Alex is a Neutral, and does data-entry for the CLASS branch in their area. “Did you bang your shin on the coffee table again? I keep telling Darren to pick a spot for it.” “No.” Lily snaps, swiping angrily at her eyes and pushing her strawberry-blonde hair out of her face. “I got my results today.” Alex comes over to sit next to Lily on the couch. “What’d you get?” she wonders. “I’m a Little.” Lily says bitterly. “Did you not know that ahead of time or something? I mean...most people don’t suck their thumbs when they get stressed out. Not to mention what happened last week at Shue’s place.” “I was drunk, okay? It’s not like I piss myself regularly or anything.” Lily grumbles. “What about the week before that, at the movie theatre? Or at the concert? Or the theme park?” Alex continues, listing off other embarrassing incidents, as Lily refused to call them accidents. “Too much soda, drunk again, should have gone before we got in line.” Lily huffs. “You got a fucking point to make, ‘Lex?” She growls. “I think you know exactly what I’m saying. One is an anomaly, two is a coincidence, and three is a pattern. We’re at four in the last two weeks alone. I keep telling you to wear protection--it’s not like anyone will see it anyway. Besides, I’m not a Caregiver. I don’t mind helping you out or anything like that, but I shouldn’t have to carry around extra clothes for you either.” Lily blushes. She had been wearing protection on all those occasions. Pull-ups just didn’t work for the magnitude of incidents she’d had, and she’d ended up leaking. She pats down her pockets, looking for her cigarettes and finds them empty. Fucking Darren. “First of all, I didn’t ask you to do that for me. And secondly, what are you saying then?” Lily demands. Alex sets her jaw. “You’d better watch your attitude, Lil. I’ve had a shitty day at work, and I don’t need to deal with your tantrum on top of it.” she snaps. “I’m saying you should have seen this coming miles away. I’ll go and get the ELK, and we’ll figure something out.” Alex disappears for a moment, and then returns with the ELK and a small duffel bag in the same coloring. She opens the container, revealing four tablets, one each of green, yellow, purple, and a white one. Lily tastes each of the colored tablets in turn, mostly to placate Alex while she thinks about how to proceed. She absolutely refuses to become one of them, no matter what. She’s already managed to escape one hellish environment where her every move was decided for her, and she’s not about to go through that again. The yellow candy does taste pretty good though… “So, you’re an L-3.” Alex says. “At least potty training is an option for you, that’s at least something positive…” “How do you know that?” Lily wonders, smacking her lips at the taste of the candy. “That’s literally what the candy is for. The colored coating only tastes good if your biological markers match with that Classification, or something like that, I’m not familiar with the science of it. It’s just to prevent panic attacks over the news.” Alex explains. “You just gave me drugs?” Lily wonders. “It’s just an anti-anxiety thing. Don’t worry. There’s a pull-up in the bag, and I’d like you to put it on, just in case. You’re pretty worked up right now, and I don’t want to clean up any puddles.” Lily immediately stands up, offended and angry at the implication, even if it isn’t exactly off-base. “Oh, fuck you! Really, Lex? I’m not a goddamn baby, or a puppy or whatever, I’m not going to piss on the floor.” “Lily, you’re really trying my patience. I’m only trying to help you out. I might be a Neutral, but I’m this close to taking you over my knee, I swear. If you want to be treated like an adult, then act like it, and let’s have a civil discussion without all the cursing, okay?” “Try it and see what happens, Lex.” Lily snaps, and marches across the room to retrieve her shoes and jacket. “I’m going out. I gotta talk to Bongo and Riceman.” Lily says, double checking that her wallet has actual Coin in it, and not just her card. “Why? All Bongo’s going to do is try to sell you CHITs and fake IDs.” Lily nods. “Exactly.” She zips her coat, too aggressively and makes for the door. “Lily, what the hell are you doing? I know I’m not your Caregiver, but as your friend, this is probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Those CHITs are really dangerous, not to mention illegal, and unless you plan on hacking the CLASS database to change your results, a fake ID is useless.” “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.” Lily points out. “That’s what Riceman is for.” “Are you insane? You’re trying to prevent an inevitable biological process from happening with a drug that will at best, delay it, and at worst, kill you. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, you’re going to participate in cybercrime while you’re at it!” Alex’s voice gets progressively louder and she takes Lily by the arm. “Yep.” Lily replies flippantly. “I will not be a Little. Look, only like, three people have ever died from doing CHITs, and I’ll be careful. I refuse to end up as a pants-shitting crybaby who’s incapable of living a normal life. Better dead than useless.” she jerks her arm free of Alex’s grip “ I can handle myself.” She steps out into the hallway and slams the door in Alex’s face. ~CSR~ Bongo and Riceman’s apartment is surprisingly clean, Lily thinks. The furniture is old and well-used, but they take care of the things they have. She tries not to fidget as she sits across from Bongo at their kitchen table. Her bladder throbs, but not too urgently. She slides her pile of coin across the table to Bongo who counts it and nods, satisfied. “I’ve gotta go make your new ID and get the CHITS counted out. Be careful with that stuff, Lily, I mean it. Any more than one a day and you’re in for a real bad time.” Bongo say seriously, his dark eyes intense. “They’ll help with the incontinence part of things temporarily. Keeping your cool, and making smart decisions is on you. The Doctor could probably help with a more permanent solution, but he’s on sabbatical and not to be disturbed for anything. This is the best I’ve got.” Bongo says. “And some of the side effects can be pretty wicked, so like I said, one every day.” Lily nods again. “I get it.” She counts out another stack of Coin and passes it to Riceman. She’s just shelled out almost all of her savings, but if it keeps her from ending up in diapers, it’s worth it. “And I can alter some things in the CLASS systems without getting caught, but it’ll only be surface level.” Riceman explains as he scratches at his stubble, his round face serious. “Any kind of deep digging, and you’re fried. You’ll be able to buy booze and smokes, and get into clubs and shit. But buying a car or a gun or anything like that is a no-go. And, don’t get pulled over either.” “I can handle that.” Lily says, swallowing hard. “Is there anything else I should know before we do this?” Bongo stares at her. “Are you sure about this? There’s no reset button for this kind of thing. Once we do this, you’re stuck. You can live as a Neutral for the rest of your days, but if you fuck up at all, game over. And, we won’t be able to help you either, for obvious reasons.” “I understand. I’m sure.” Lily says, with a confidence she doesn’t actually feel. “Okay.” Bongo shares a glance with Riceman, and both of them stand. “Wait right here.” Riceman says. “We’ll be back shortly.” In another moment, they’re gone, leaving Lily alone with her thoughts at the table. What did I just do? Lily wonders.

Hello guys! Just a short story I was itching to write for some days. It's two chapters, I'll release the first now and the second later on (It's already written so don't worry) depending on the comments I receive. Please let me know your thoughts, I am open to any criticism or discussion since I want to improve my writing. Also, fair warning, I might have gone just a little bit overboard with this one... but you'll let me know what you think The Terminal – Part 1 “Dlin-Dlon!” the sound could be heard all over the terminal through the numerous speakers. “Attention to all passengers, the flight A145EJ3 departing from Perdide (Catalon) and directed to Aokawa-shi (Yamatoa) will be delayed by an hour due to technical issues. We apologize for the inconvenience” “Great” Nora thought slowly slumping towards the floor from the wall she was leaning on. The loud crinkle of her diaper warned her that she had made full contact with the cold marble. She remained still for a few seconds, legs spread wide. The padding pressed against her crotch and bottom had obviously swelled and was cold and clammy. She didn’t even notice she had wet herself during the wait. They had been waiting at this terminal for at least three hours, so no wonder. She grunted around her pacifier, closing and bending her legs to hoist herself up, but the now thicker padding of her diaper didn’t let her, her legs spread too far and too wide to get enough leverage. So, she jerked forward, her hands on the floor assuming for a brief moment a crawling position, her heavily padded bottom up in the air before clumsily getting on her two feet. She looked around one more time, the airport was crowded with amazons coming from all over the continent. The holiday season had just begun, so everyone was moving away from the big city towards their preferred holiday destination. A bit more than a half of the Amazons she saw had Littles with them. They carried them in their arms, strapped in carriers, baby seats or strollers, tugged them around in leashes. She saw an amazon woman pass in front of her, she was pushing what seemed like a mesh-walled playpen on wheels. Inside, four Little girls in matching hairstyle all clad in only their thick crawler diapers were eyeing all around with a bewildered expression. Their chubby bodies leaned towards the too tall sides of their cage. Faces pressed against the mesh walls, sucking wildly on their pacifiers. The woman looking down at them with a loving expression. Nora watched them pass by, thinking there could always be a worse situation than her own. She let out a nervous chuckle looking down. She could barely see her thighs with her thick diaper. Her legs and feet naked since the only clothing she was allowed at the moment was a tight yellow T-shirt that barely reached her bellybutton. Her hands reached to her back, feeling her leash tightly attached to her full body harness. Two straps reaching up her shoulders, two more went around her hips, covering up the entire waistband of her diaper, and, for further humiliation the last strap stretching down her crotch, encompassing the curve of her diaper, pressing the wet padding against her skin, meeting with the others at her belly, where a single bright red button held everything together. She shuffled on her feet, her tiny hands grabbing the plastic around the red button. Mommy had tightened her harness too much as always, she couldn’t even squeeze one of her fingers under the straps. She was aware every single strap that encased her, the sensation was even worse than having a wet diaper locked around her hips, at least she was accustomed to that. She lifted her gaze, following the leash that sprouted from the back of her harness and kept on going for several feet, ending up tightly tied to a baby huge baby seat, ensuring that she could not roam too far. Mommy was still sat on one of the numerous armchairs the airport made available for the waiting passengers. She was talking to another amazon woman, Nora didn’t know her, probably a friend from work. Seeing her amazon parent distracted, Nora grabbed more tightly the plastic around the cursed red button on her belly, starting to shake it up and down, fiddling with the button at the same time. She knew she wouldn’t be able to free herself from the harness or the leash, and even if she did, what would she have done after? Even if she had managed to waddle far from Mommy taking advantage of her distraction, the airport was full of cameras and security. She would have been brought back in a matter of minutes, earning a spanking, or worse, for all her troubles. But maybe if she managed to press the button just a little, just to allow the straps to loosen up a bit, she would have been more comfortable. She kept fiddling with the harness, her brow furrowed, chewing loudly on her pacifier, not to avail. In the end she let out a frustrated sigh and decided to give up. She was rapidly growing bored, there was nothing to do in there! Mommy had given her some mashed bananas as a snack and a rattle to keep herself entertained but, obviously, she had rapidly grown bored of that. Smiling she waddled towards the armchair. Mommy was still absorbed in her conversation, disturbing her wasn’t wise. Instead, she made a beeline and ended up facing the baby seat set on the ground, looking down at the occupant inside. There, laying on her back, naked except for her huge crawler diaper, was her little “sister” Evie. The Little girl squirmed upon seeing her looming over the baby seat, but the five-point harness straps, tightened as much or even more than Nora’s, held her perfectly still so the only thing she was able to do was uselessly flail her arms and legs, her eyes darting at her, full of hate. Nora smiled. There was a time, a few years of captivity ago, when Evie was the “big” sister, allowed to walk around in waddler diapers ad fed solid food while Nora was kept in crawlers, her speech non-existent due to the ever present inflatable pacifier that was taken out only during her feedings, and not always even. But now the tables had turned. She had worked her diapered ass off, thanking Mommy whenever she allowed her to talk, convincing her that she was a good girl until she allowed her to grow up. Evie was not happy to have taken her place, but she had always been a bitch, so she deserved it. Nora didn’t know if or when Mommy would change her mind, regressing her back to a crawler and allowing her “sister” to grow up again, but she was determined to make the most of her advantaged situation right now. Smiling, she bent forward, almost coming face to face with her bound sister. Her kicking legs kept too far apart, spread by the huge crawler to be a danger to her. Slowly, theatrically she took out her pacifier, just to show her that she could, a line of drool connecting the non-inflated nipple to her lips. “Hi Evie!” she grinned, receiving only muffled gibberish in response “You’re awake!” They had been waiting at the airport for several hours, and her sister’s diaper clearly showed that. Even through the thick padding, a yellow hue was clearly distinguishable at the front of the diaper, while a brown silouhette peeked from the bottom. “Wheeww you stink, baby!” she said pinching her nose. It wasn’t true, almost no smell made through the humongous padding of the crawler diapers, but anything to torture Evie even a bit more. “It’s a pity you woke up, the flight was delayed, again” she explained, ever smiling “So we hafta wait for a lot more, and I’m bored” “Maybe you can help me with that” she grinned, and with both her hands she grasped the handle of the baby seat, starting to shake it back and forth. Evie let out an outraged muffled yelp, as she was jumbled up and down by the carrier’s rocking movement, the straps around her digging into her, mushing the full diaper violently against her skin. “We hafta wait at least an hour, and I’m happy to rock my little sister to sleep for as loong as I can” Nora laughed, rocking with gusto. She kept on going for two full minutes, Evie’s face having reached a loving green complexion when she stumbled backwards, feeling a tug on her leash. “Nora!” she heard a deep female voice calling her from her side “Come here sweetie” She turned, Mommy was still sat with her friend, but now they were both directing her attention towards her, Mommy holding the other end of her leash, smiling expectantly. “Come on baby!” she said giving another gentle but firm tug “Come to Mommy” Immediately Nora let go of the baby seat, leaving her sister mumbling and flailing around to deal with the residue of the inertial rocking. Nervously, she waddled towards the amazons, plastering her face with the most cute and innocent expression she could manage. “There she is” the other amazon woman smiled as she approached “What a cutie” “She is, isn’t she?” Mommy answered politely, unlocking Nora’s harness with ease by pushing the unmovable button, letting the straps fall on the ground as she easily grabbed the Little by her armpits, turning her around with her back against them. Nora felt Mommy’s giant hand hooking her frilly T-shirt and hoisting it up, leaving her naked back exposed to the gaze of the Amazons. She frowned, it was not like she hadn’t been exposed to others in worst ways, she thought of diaper changes in public spaces for example, but that was weird. “See that?” she heard Mommy’s voice behind her, feeling the Amazon’s fingers touch her skin just below her nape. “Hmmhmm” she heard the other amazon say, now a second hand touching her “Those white spots have appeared a week ago” she heard Mommy saying “Usually she hasn’t had any problems, besides diaper rashes, but I’m worried it might be some kind of fungus” Nora stayed perfectly still, the back of her T-shirt wrapped around her head, shivering at the giant’s touch on her back as her skin was carefully inspected by the Amazons. She had no idea of what they were talking about, but she had learned that in this case it was better not to ask questions. “It sure could be” she heard the other amazon woman reflecting “I’ll recommend you a cream to apply during the evening, she shouldn’t have any issue after a week of treatment” “You’re a lifesaver!” Mommy thanked, adjusting her T-shirt back and starting to collect the harness from the ground “No problem, here, let me help” the other woman said Nora stood still, whimpering, as the two Amazons busied themselves around her, adjusting the straps around her shoulders, hips and crotch, before fastening them up again, even tighter than before. “Oh, I wonder if you heard about the new Littles travel policies for 8 hours or longer flights” the other woman conversed while working on one of the straps “No, first time I’m hearing this” said Mommy worried, while casually hooking the back of Nora’s diaper to check her “No big deal, they released a few more precautions to make sure childless passengers aren’t bothered by the smell of dirty diapers during long flights, unfortunately these days the planes are packed with littles and one single changing room on the plane is not enough, so they’ve released a special kit for these situations” the other woman explained “I’ve picked up an extra one for you, inside you’ll find all that you need and the instructions” “Thanks a lot!” Mommy smiled standing up, picking Evie’s baby seat in one hand, Nora’s leash in the other. “I’d better go get these two little girls sorted out then! I don’t want to miss the flight because of that” She said, giving a tug on the leash, ordering Nora to follow up. But the Little girl didn’t move. Suddenly, a cramp hit her, as she felt the contents of her bowels rapidly shifting downward. She immediately put the pacifier back in her mouth and started sucking noisily at it, clenching her fists. “Nora!” Mommy reprimanded, her voice sounding clearly annoyed “Do we need a spanking or…” But Mommy stopped as she saw Nora’s knees bending, her legs spreading, face already turning of a faint crimson. “What’s the matter?” the other Amazon inquired “Somebody has a poopy face” Mommy replied amused But Nora almost didn’t hear them as she simply bore down as another cramp manifested, her face scrunched, already feeling the semi-solid waste oozing down from her bottom and landing in the back of her diaper with a loud crinkle. It was all over in a matter of seconds, the cramps stopped and she was left mildly dazed, her head spinning as she looked up pitifully at the two smiling amazons, her swollen diaper now feeling much heavier. “She’s lucky we are headed straight for the changing room. Usually she stays in her dirty diapers much longer. I’ll let her finish up on the way. I’ll see you later!” “Perfectly understandable” the other woman replied knowingly, waving her hand to say goodbye “They’re Littles, after all” Nora felt another tug on the leash, and desperately started waddling behind Mommy, her diapered bottom wriggling as she followed the amazon deeper inside the airport.

The LETO Syndicate A girl wakes up on a bus on it's way to a large, windowless building in the middle of nowhere, strapped to a large car seat, alongside a couple dozen others like her. No doubt you've heard this story before. But I hope I can still surprise you all with my own little twist on the much loved scenario! This one is a lot shorter than my usual stories (mine are usually 40 and an epilogue, though some go way above that), at around half my usual length. It's also very different from my usual stories, but I won't spoil anything. Regression, humiliation, strong Nannies, a strict Headmistress, lesbian romance... it's got it all! Two chapters per week, as usual. Every Wednesday and Sunday. And as usual, if you want two weeks early access to chapters of my current ongoing story, you can sub to my Patreon. You'll also get access to my discord server to discuss chapters there and stuff. And also to tease me apparently. Grr. I hope I've covered everything that needs saying and I hope everyone enjoys this story as much as my other stories! Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, I love reading it all! Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others! Chapter 1: Arrival The LETO Syndicate – LittleFallenPrincess Pulling against the straps holding me in place, strapped tightly into this stupidly comfortable seat that felt more like a baby’s car seat than a normal bus seat, I wondered to myself how I got into this position. I struggled against the wrist straps first, hoping they would give way, even if only the tiniest amount, to allow me to attempt to escape. But alas, they were on as tight as possible. So when that failed, I tried my legs. I quickly found they too were secured to the seat and I was unable to move them. The best I could do was wriggle, and the only part of me that wasn’t completely secured was my head and neck. They even put a strap around my waist, holding me back in my seat. Thankfully, as I stopped focusing on myself, and started focusing on my surroundings… I saw I wasn’t the only one. And just like me, they were all wearing identical white scrubs. Turning to my immediate left, sat next to the window, I saw what looked to be an angel. Beautiful long, blonde hair… shining blue eyes… petite and looking she was around her late twenties… this girl was beautiful. Like the kind of girl I always dreamed I’d be with, but knew I had no shot with. Not that I’m a bad looking gal, just… this girl was gorgeous. Those dazzling blue eyes were concentrating on the window, looking out into the barren green fields, out into the middle of nowhere. “There’s nothing out there. Plus the windows are tinted…” I said to her, trying to initiate conversation. “Sorry?” She said, quickly turning around to look at me. “If you think you’re going to flag someone down to rescue you… no one can see in. I saw this van from the outside before I was taken.” “Oh… no… it’s not that. I just… it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She asked, sounding so… carefree right now. I looked out of the window at the picture-perfect country scene. “I suppose it is. You… you don’t seem worried…” I said, suspicious of why she sounded so carefree right now. “Neither do you…” She replied. “Oh I am, believe me. But my Dad always taught me to keep calm if anything like this ever happened. To not antagonise your kidnapper. What about you, why aren’t you worried?” “I figured this would happen to me.” “Wait… what? You figured you’d be kidnapped by some shady, burly men in guard uniforms and shoved on a bus with tinted windows?” “Not exactly that… but…” She took one long sigh and looked me in the eyes. “My sister went missing last year. She looked just like me. Only a year older than me too. And out of nowhere… vanished. I spent the last year worried that it’d happen to me too. You hear about all these girls going missing in town… I knew it would happen sooner or later.” “Where are you from?” I asked her, wondering what town she had been taken from, which town she was talking about. Her accent sounded Northern, but I was useless with accents so couldn’t pinpoint exactly where she was from. “Sheffield. Why, what about you?” She asked. “I’m from Bath. Sorry, I was just wondering where your accent was from.” “So… so we’re completely different ends of the country. That’s weird.” She said, rolling her eyes towards the window again. “Yeah… they must take girls like us from all over the country and take us to… wherever they’re taking us. Do you recognise any of the landscape?” “Nope. It’s nice though. Very nature…y.” She smiled, making my heart flutter. “Yeah it’s quite nice. I… I wonder where they’re taking us though, out in the middle of nowhere.” “Probably some secret facility.” She whispered, grinning. “And how do you know that?” I asked. “Just a guess. It’s what I’d do.” I laughed, causing me to gain the attention of one of the guards at the front of the bus. “What you’d do?” I whispered. “Yeah, if I kidnapped a bunch of pretty girls, I’d take them to a facility in the middle of nowhere.” ‘Wait… does she think I’m pretty?’ I thought to myself, my heart aflutter. “And what would you do with them? Sell them? Experiment on them? Fuck them until they’re your obedient little whores?” I joked. She paused for a second, thinking, making me worry I had gone too far with the joke. “Probably just play video games with them and eat pizza.” She grinned. “Remind me to get kidnapped by you next time.” I replied, smiling. She smiled back in what looked to be a flirty manner. But hey, what do I know? I haven’t done the whole dating game thing in a while. “So… what were you doing when you were taken?” She asked. “I was at a bar, getting hammered with my mates. Susie had just ordered another round, and I got a phone call. So I went outside, out into the back alley to take the call, and… that’s when I was taken. Bag over head, injection in my neck… world went black. Woke up slightly as they were loading us all on, that’s when I saw the outside of this bus, but quickly went under again. Then, like you, woke up on this journey to nowhere. What about you?” “I had just gotten off from a late night at work. Walking home… I was followed by a couple of rough-looking guys. Tried to dodge them by heading down another street… but they had backup. Grabbed me, shot me with something in the neck, bag over head just like you. Fun times.” “You’re awfully more relaxed than everyone else on here…” I commented. We both looked around at the other passengers. The ones currently in the same predicament, tied to these ‘car seat’ things. Three guards patrolled the aisle, keeping an eye out on each person. Upon closer inspection, some passengers were still asleep. Obviously whatever drug our kidnappers had used worked differently depending on the person. Some were wide awake… but were gagged. They had probably tried to fight back or argue… or even bite. Some were just like me and my new friend, chatting and trying to keep calm, but there were only a few of those. Most were panicking. “I’m not exactly a glass-half-full kinda girl. Not exactly optimistic in the first place, even before being kidnapped.” My new friend shrugged. “Ah… same.” “Sorry, Where are my manners…” She said, “I’m Sarah.” “Judy.” I replied. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Judy.” Sarah smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, Sarah. Hey… just wondering…” “What?” “Can… Can we try to stick together, whatever happens? I think it’ll improve our chances of getting through this in one piece if we watch each other’s backs.” I suggested. “I mean… sure? I don’t know how easy that will be though… We still don’t know what they have planned. And they could easily split us up.” “QUIET!” One of the guards shouted, the one at the front. “We’re arriving…” “Arriving where?” I whispered to Sarah. “I guess we’re going to find out…” Sarah replied, shrugging her shoulders. The bus turned off the main road, down a private road leading to a large prison-like gate. Stopping at what was probably a checkpoint, the front door of the bus opened and the bus driver started chatting to one of the guards outside. I tried to listen to what they were saying, but I couldn’t make out anything at this distance, it’s a shame we weren’t sitting closer to the front. “What are they saying?” Sarah asked. “No idea. Probably just checking in.” I replied. The doors closed suddenly and I saw the gate in front start opening slowly, rattling the whole way. “Looks like we’re here…” Sarah said. My heart was racing as we slowly drove down the long road, towards what looked like a prison complex. At least that’s what it looked like on the outside. But not one of those usual old prisons we have in the UK, but a much more modern one. One that looked more like a billionaire’s nuclear bunker or something, or a super modern art gallery. Just big blocks of white stone with no windows and only one door on the front. That probably isn’t the only door, but that was the only one in view. “That… is an evil villain’s lair…” Sarah commented. “Yeah, not the friendliest-looking place…” I replied, smirking. “Maybe it’s all kittens and rainbows on the inside?” “Oh and teddy bears and hugs?” She laughed quietly, as to not alert the guard. “And pillows and sweeties!” “That wouldn’t be so bad…” “QUIET!” The guard shouted again. The whole bus then slowly came to a standstill, and not a single noise was made as the engine calmed down. “No talking. Or else. No resisting. Or else. No trying to escape…” That’s when I fucked up. “Or else?” I asked. A gasp of around a dozen people or more filled the bus as the guard who was talking stared directly at me, clearly pissed. “What was that?” The guard growled as he walked slowly down the aisle towards me. “I… I…” “I said ‘or else?’” Sarah said from beside me, as if she was willing to take the blame for it. I turned to my side and looked Sarah in the eyes. She just stared back and smiled. “We stick together.” She whispered to me. “Oh, it was you was it?” The guard asked, looking at her. “Yes. I was just confirming…” “It was me. I was just confirming…” I interrupted, before being interrupted myself by the angry-looking guard. “You both want to own up to it? Big mistake. One strike for both of you.” He growled. “And three strikes and we’re out?” I asked, in a cocky manner that I quickly regretted as the tall, muscly man looked down at me. “One strike equals one punishment.” He grinned, cockily. “Ooooh punishment! What, are you going to spank us?” Sarah joined in, laughing. “Have fun later, girls…” He said as he walked off to the front of the bus again, pulling out what looked to be a computer tablet and pressing a couple of buttons on it. I swear I could see a picture of me and a picture of Sarah on it as he closed it down and slipped it back into his large pocket. “That… wasn’t that bad. Though we really shouldn’t have pissed off that guy… it could backfire on us.” Sarah said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m pretty sure it has. But thanks for sticking up for me back there.” I replied, smiling up at her sweetly. “Hey, you said we stick together, right? I’ve got your back, if you have mine.” “Of course. I wonder what punishment we’ll get…” “Well we still don’t know if this is like a sex thing or a prison thing or an illegal experimentation thing. Either way… I’m not looking forward to seeing what we get.” Sarah sighed. “RIGHT! ONE BY ONE. LETS GO BOYS.” The main guard said, as the other two went to the front seats and then just as I thought they’d undo the restraints to get the first passengers off… they just lifted the whole damn seat out and carried it out of the bus! Like… how freaking strong are they? As they carried the first two victims off, out of the bus, my hopes of trying to escape whilst I was unrestrained were dashed. And then a minute later… the guards returned. Taking the next two… they did this a bunch of times, making their way from the front of the bus to the back end where me and Sarah were sitting. They slowly removed each and every victim that they had most likely kidnapped and took them off the bus, without removing them from these weird baby-car seat things. I counted along, seeing how many they had taken, as I couldn’t tell on the way here from where I was sitting, but it looked to be about twenty in front of us… and I had a feeling there were maybe six behind us I think? And before long… It was our turn. “Time for the troublemakers…” the main guard said, taking over from the guard who was doing our side. “I’ll get little miss trouble, you get the bratty little princess.” The other guard didn’t say a word, he just nodded. Uncoupling my seat from the bus, the main guard lifted me up with no effort and carried me towards the front of the bus. And that’s when the pit of dread started forming in my stomach. But nothing would have prepared me for what I saw next. ========================================================= So... thoughts so far? I know it's only the first chapter, but it's not my usual kind of story and so far those on my patreon are loving it, so I hope you all love it too! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next four chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of LETO Syndicate every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Hello guys, A short story I wrote in an hour. Sorry about the typos and the grammar. Enjoy! Nora had lost count of how many times she had tried, but try anyway she did. She started kicking, but the elastic fabric of the swaddler that Amazon psycho had tied her in was so resistant and tight, keeping her legs bent, that she couldn’t manage to do anything mora than a ridiculous two legged kick, which seemed more similar to seeing a worm wriggling, rather than a serious escape attempt. In no time she was exhausted, sweating, trying hard to breathe through her nose since her mouth was entirely plugged with the bulb of an inflatable pacifier. She tried rolling to her side, but unfortunately the Amazon had laid her down of a huge semicircular pillow which surrounded her head, shoulders, down until her midsection, smothering her in a cloud feather-padded fabric, making moving to the side very difficult. She couldn’t even close her legs properly, the huge crawler diaper sealed around her hips prevented that, acting also as a weight, hampering her attempt to lift her lower half. She could only lay there, mouth plugged, arms immobilized, legs half bent and splayed, waiting for what else the Amazon had in store for her. No. She couldn’t lose hope. She had to keep fighting. But she was getting tired. It was the third day of this hell, since the Giant woman kidnapped her from her office. Three days of abuse, spankings and force feedings. Three days of unending humiliation and degradation. She had to find a way to escape, and quickly. Before she started getting accustomed to this life or, worse, the giant decided she was too rebellious to keep this way, and decided to regress her to a babbling infant. With a jerk of her abdomen, she finally managed to tilt a little bit to the left. Huffing and panting she rocked to the left, then to the right, gaining speed and finally managing to turn face down. And for her effort, she was rewarded with a face pressed against that damn cushion. She couldn’t breathe. She tried rolling again, but if her splayed knees and legs provided a good counterweight when she was face up, now they literally pinned her to the mattress, ass up and face down in the soft fabric. She started panicking, with effort she raised her neck to get a breath of fresh air. But couldn’t keep her neck craned for too long… She started hyperventilating…. It could not end like this, she had to escape and go home… “Shtoopid babiee!” A lispy high-pitched voice came from beside her. Two soft hands grabbed her by the hips and turned her again face up. She blinked, and found her face to face with the Amazon’s baby slave. She didn’t know her name, her true name. The Amazon called her Vivie. She didn’t know her true age, looking at her right now, clad in only her sagging waddler diaper she could have been anything between two and thirty. Her blonde hair was kept short and tied in four pigtails, her skin was smooth, so smooth it looked unnatural. Her face was chubby, cheeks red and full, her body plump, but there was something wrong with her bodyfat… no love hadles, nothing on the hips, just a little, well rounded belly, just like toddler’s, but her tiny, albeit present breasts told her that she was surely an adult. Vivie came closer, noisily sucking a pacifier. Drool trickled from her concealed mouth. She smelled like milk, talcum and poop. Just everything about her was what Nora had always feared. What probably once was a free and independent Little had been turned into an Amazon’s plaything. Nora breathed loudly through her nose struggling in her bonds, moaning around the pacifier gag as the baby slave loomed over her. “Shtoopid baby” she repeated, pointing a rebuking finger towards her “Mommy told you to be still, no rolling around” Her voice was lispy, hight pitched and annoying like the one of a toddler. But her vocabulary was too wide. At first Nora thought she had been hypnotized, that she couldn’t help it. She refused to believe any Little could have accepted to live like that. But the way she talked… and mostly her eyes told a different story. The Little in front of her hadn’t been regressed, her eyes were brimming with resignation, intelligence and, worst of all, malice. “Mommy told me you my new baby sis!” she giggled triumphantly, waddling backwards. She turned around, bending her knees exposing her huge, heavy, sagging diaper. She picked up a huge baby bottle filled to the brim with what seemed like milk. “I love my new baby sis!” she smiled behind her pacifier “I want her to grow strong and healthy” With a grunt, she lifted the buttle up, pointing the nipple towards Noras’ mouth. She screamed, but nothing but incoherent mumbling came out. She tried wriggling away, but, swaddled tight as she was, she had nowhere to go. Vivie pushed hard, her face red. For a moment Nora experienced intense pain as her mouth faced the intense weight, but the pressure stopped as soon as a click was heard from her pacifier. She mumbled around the nipple, her neck now feeling heavy. That baby slave had hooked the bottle to the shield of the pacifier! “Drink up! Mommy said you have to finish the whoooole bottle” Vivie said squeezing with both her hands. Nora felt the inflated nipple in her mouth swell, and in a matter of seconds she was forced to gulp down the chalky formula. She kept on drinking, the milk level slowly lowering. But Vivie kept on pressuring the bottle, more and more, her smile widening. Nora kept swallowing, eyes wide, pulse quickening. She wasn't even giving her time to breathe! She kept swallowing until she couldn’t withstand anymore, she needed air! She started coughing, milk coming through her nose, spilling out everywhere “Vivie! What are you doing?” A deep female voice spoke from behind them In a matter of seconds, two giant arms entered Nora’s field of vision, rapidly hooking the baby slave by her armpits and lifting her up like she weighted nothing. “Vivie, bad girl! You were supposed to wait for Mommy to feed your sister! You’re much too little to do that!” Nora stopped coughing, air filling her lungs once more as she struggled, trying to shake the drops of milk from her face. From behind her she heard Vivie trying to explain, but the lispy voice of the baby slave was soon replaced by incoherent mumbling after a click and a hiss. It wasn’t long before the sound of spanks administered of a full diaper could be heard distinctively. “Naughty!” the Amazon’s voice declared Nora laid still, her eyes wide as the spanking continued. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she had counted at least forty spanks. Where did she end up? That Amazon was a monster! Five more minutes passed, now behind her sounds she could not decipher. Nora tried as hard as she could to turn around, not to avail. Soon, her view was occupied by the gigantic figure of the Amazon woman holding a still sobbing Vivie now clad in an even bulker diaper, her legs now spread in a ninety-degree angle. She watched as the Amazon lowered the Little on her back in an empty playpen. Vivie didn’t even try to stand up, but craned her neck upwards, looking fearfully at the giant woman. “The crawler stays on top of that poopy diaper at least until tonight. So does the silencer. You’ll stay put in your playpen until Mommy works and takes care of your little sister. I’ll change you before bedtime if you’ve been a good girl all day. ALL. DAY. Vivie. Now go play!” the giant woman commanded, lowering to administer another smack on the seat of Vivie’s diaper. The Litttle moaned in pain, rapidly crawling for a rattle, and started shaking it with gusto, always looking fearfully towards her Mommy. Nora trembled as the giant’s attention turned towards her. She felt herself being lifted, her head cradled in the woman’s arm. “Now…” she smiled, picking up the huge bottle “Where were we?”

Hi, I'm a long time fan of the site. This is my first story ever for the ABDL community, hope you like it. The goal when writing was to do a more fantasy style story. it's a bit of a slow burn, I plan to have adult sexual material so please take this as a warning not to read if you're not into that. Also some feedback would be great. if I drone on to long, or if my word flow is confusing, grammar, Formatting and so on. My goal with posting here is to improve my writing so let me know what you think. Part one the Thief The hallway painted her periphery in royal colors. Streaks of golden sculptures, velvet cloth, and mahogany tables wisped by as she ran. Talia did her best to maintain her serious focus, despite the jingling of precious metals in the bag slung over her shoulder threatening to tease a smile from her with every stride.  “Don’t let her get away, lads!” shouted a knight behind her. “The Baron will have a head tonight—make sure it’s that wench!” A thundering crescendo of metal boots erupted behind her. Talia was almost grateful; she could count fear among her motivations to run.  Seeing a corner approaching, Talia grabbed one of the large gold-framed paintings adorning the walls—a gaudy authoritarian portrait of Baron Anor. The heavy oak frame fell with a dull thud, twisting as it hit the ground and offering a moment of privacy. Reaching into her Sack of plunder, Talia produced a gold bar and hurled it at the window at the end of the hall, shattering it. Knowing her pursuers would be on her soon, she took a running start and jumped off the wall to her left. Kicking off, she tucked into a half-corkscrew before slamming her hands and feet into the corridor walls… waiting. The Baron’s punchable face did nothing to slow the knights—they exploded into the hallway in a shower of splinters and poor art composition. “She jumped out the window!” shouted the guard in front. “It could be a diversion!” another barked. “Split up!” called the oldest voice from the rear. The guards scattered—some climbing down the window, others rounding the corner to inspect every room. None of them looked up.  Talia dropped with the grace of a cat, landing on all fours without a sound. She couldn’t contain her smile as she turned and dashed over what was once an affront to the painted arts. With the guards barreling away, she could slow down, recoup some energy… maybe even steal a little more. No! Don’t get greedy, she thought. It wasn’t time for rookie mistakes. She’d already emptied the safe the Baron hid in his study. It’s always in the study, she mused.   Talia half-ran back up the hallway, caring less about subtlety now that the guards were gone.  “I’m Sorry, captain, I couldn’t find my sword,” a younger voice whined just around the corner. “Then next time I’ll put it up your arse, soldier,” an older voice boomed. Talia froze. They were headed her way. Turning back wasn’t an option—getting caught between units would be a death sentence. She crouched low, brandished her knife, and turned into the nearest room. Slipping inside silently. This room was… strange. It was dark. Chew toys and torn stuffed animals could barely be seen laying scattered across the floor. A lush bed sat at the back. Dog bowls lined the left wall, and on the right—what looked, or rather smelled, like a puppy pad. All things considered, it was a fine room. Luxurious. Fit for a noble’s pet. But still… the very human whimpering coming from the back of the room was… strange. Talia’s grip tightened around her dagger as she approached. The girl was thin, with pale skin. Her hair was a sea of wild red, and a pair of cute, droopy canine ears sat atop her head. She was naked, save for a leather collar around her neck. Her bushy red tail was curled around her waist, affording a hint of modesty. A child of the forest. Rare to see one in captivity. Humans didn’t typically have the strength to take one alive—not without a mage. And mages had better ways to make coin than trafficking in slavery. “Greetings, forest child,” Talia said, lowering her tone. “I’m a forest guardian. Can you speak?” She pulled back her green hood, brushing a few strands of straight black hair behind her long, pointed ear. The red-haired girl looked up. Her eyes were hard. A stare like a cliff edge over an endless abyss. Talia’s breath caught. There was something broken in her gaze—lifeless, if not for the quiet, seething anger. “You have it,” the girl whispered through clenched teeth. Her hard look faltered, eyes trembling, madness flickering just beneath the surface. “You took it. Please… give it back” Talia kept her blade low but ready. Every instinct screamed danger. She took a breath, steadying her voice. “What do I have? I’ll give you whatever you need. Let’s just stay calm… and quiet.” “My name…” the girl said, barely audible. “Please give me back my name. You have it in that bag.” She rose slowly. Her tail dropped to the floor, modesty forgotten. She walked like a ghost, arms crossed, gaze unfocused—like she was looking through Talia, not at her. What the fuck… Talia thought, stumbling back as her foot slipped into the water bowl with a splash. Commotion echoed outside the door—they must’ve circled back. No time to run, no space to fight. But Talia didn’t dare look away. Children of the forest were unbeatable in close quarters, blessed with strength that rivaled monsters. She held out her palm, bluffing a spell. The goddess of wisdom and magic might’ve abandoned her, but the beast didn’t know that. Rationality seemed like a thin shield right now. The door slammed open. “She’s here!” someone barked. “Call the guard! she’s in Cherry’s roo—” A blur of red exploded past Talia. The beast girl slammed the guard into the stone wall with a bone-jarring crunch. “My name isn’t Cherry,” she growled, slowly pressing her claws into his neck, shattering his chainmail as she dug deeper. Talia scrambled up as a maid screamed. No time to think. She ran and hurled herself out the shattered window. She landed hard, rolled into a summersault, and sprang into a sprint. Her bag of loot clutched tightly in both hands. “What the fuck!?” she gasped, breathless and alive. Part 2 The Elf Ah, The Great Forest. Of all the vast ecosystems in the world, none are more blessed by Astra, Goddess of Magic. Here, magic isn't just present—it breathes. It hums in every leaf, thrums beneath the bark, and for those attuned to it, crackles at the fingertips like lightning waiting to leap. The forest teems with creatures born of raw enchantment—fairy folk, mermaids, beastkin—but none more powerful than the elves. Stewards of the woods. Guardians. None more lithe. None more magical. And at this particular moment, none more utterly exhausted than Talia. Talia collapsed onto the log, letting her bag of loot thump into the dirt beside her. She took a deep breath, chest rising and falling with a groan. Her mad sprint from Baron Anor’s estate had been four days ago, and she couldn’t take another step. Stretching her legs out with a wince, she leaned back and began massaging her aching thighs. From her ration pouch, she retrieved a stale chunk of lembas—a hard, unforgiving cracker—and her water gourd. After a few reluctant bites, the food started to hit her stomach, and some strength crept back into her limbs. She sagged deeper into the log. Three nights of nonstop running would break any elf. But Talia? Talia was probably the only one physically fit enough to pull it off. Most elves relied on magic to do the heavy lifting—why bother training your body when you can float everywhere? Talia didn’t have that luxury. She took obscene pride in her stamina. Had to make up for the lack of sparkle somehow. Moreover, the run had been necessary. That beast girl—Cherry, they’d called her—not that Talia would ever call her that, considering what happened to the last guy who did—could probably track her scent for miles. Nothing more dangerous than an obsessive beastkin with a vendetta. “Her name…” Talia muttered. Frowning, she pulled the loot sack into her lap and unfastened the flap. Out came about 120 silver coins, one gold brick, and a small black box. Talia lifted the box, inspecting it. It was made of firm, high-quality leather—expensive stuff, probably worth something on its own. The design was plain, save for a simple latch. Nothing about it screamed "name thief." Honestly, what the hell even would? With careful fingers, she popped the latch. Inside lay a black jewel. It shimmered in the light—hues of violet and streaks of orange swirling inside, shifting with every tilt. It wasn’t just beautiful. It pulled at you. Chaotic order. Harmonious discord. Marvelous. But it sure as hell wasn’t a name. Talia stared at the jewel. It shifted in the light like a storm caught between glass, threads of violet and orange chasing each other around in endless spirals. “Well… you’re pretty,” she muttered, reaching out. Magic erupted from the gem where her skin met it. Talia watched in horror as her right hand was swallowed by a black storm—dense magic swirled around her arm in a foggy dace. Veins of yellow streaked through it, bursts of gold flaring before fading into the empty air. She stared, helpless, as her hand began to evaporate. She felt it. Magic crawling into her arm—tendrils slithering beneath the skin, threading into her muscles, her bones. The pain hit her like a wave, sharp and primal. Something inside her, something fundamental, was being torn apart… and remade. Black mist gathered at her feet, rising in soft, pulsing clouds. It crept up her legs, slow, almost gentle, climbing like it was claiming her. And then—silence. It ended as suddenly as it began. Talia collapsed backwards, landing hard in the dirt. Her body shook, pale and slick with sweat. Her head swam. Breaths came in short, shallow gasps. She raised her arm to the sky, trembling. The jewel had fused into her flesh—beautiful and terrifying. The back of her hand and her index finger shimmered like stained glass: black, glossy, fractured with gold. “Talia…” she breathed, voice hoarse. “My name is Talia…” Part 3 The Witch. Solune looked out over the vast sea of green, breathing in the scent of life, feeling its soft caress against her intricately patterned silk robe. Blue, with threads of silver and stars. It was beautiful today, she thought, raising her mug of coffee to her lips. The balcony of her magic tower wasn’t the most decorated—some moss, a few potted herbs, an old stool—but it had the best sunrise view in the entire great forest. Of that, she was certain. “Hey Boss! Hey!” chimed a high, breathy voice to her left. “Nina, how are you, dear?” Solune greeted her, voice even and warm. The little fairy buzzed upward, wings straining as she flew in lopsided loops, dragging a long string behind her. Tied to it—rather poorly—was a bundled stack of red letters, bouncing with every wingbeat. With a final tug, Nina hoisted the mail over the balcony railing and let it land with a plop on the coffee table. She flopped down on top of the pile, panting. “I got... huff... hah... some requests for the White Witch...” The White Witch—Solune’s moniker, coined by some prince a century ago. Something about her hair. Nobles always needed titles for things they didn’t understand. Solune tucked her silky white hair behind one ear as she picked up the first letter. It was a request from a nearby barony—track and subdue a beastkin woman who’d invaded and attacked his manor last month. The reward? A measly fifteen hundred gold. Solune let out a tired sigh and set the letter aside. “These nobles know they’re supposed to send an escort for assignments like this.” She waited a moment. Nina usually had some snappy quip to ease her weariness, but none came. Looking down, Solune noticed Nina shifting her tiny feet nervously. “Hey... hey, Nina, are you alright?” “Sol... umm... are we in trouble?” The question hung for a moment. Solune leaned forward, using her finger to hold her friend steady, wrapping her middle finger around Nina’s back—a ‘hugging’ technique she reserved just for her. Nina leaned into her index finger and hugged Solune’s thumb tightly. “Why do you think we’re in any kind of trouble, sweetheart?” “Because there’s an elf outside.” Part 4 – The Tower Solune held Nina gently between her fingers, pushing back the creeping tide of emotion that threatened to reach her face. There was only one reason an elf would visit a witch. She drew her small friend closer, rubbing her back softly with her middle finger. “It’s alright, Nina,” she said in a soothing tone. “That elf is an old friend of mine.” Nina’s eyes brightened. “Really? That’s good! I didn’t know you had an elf friend, Boss!” Solune swallowed the guilt welling in her throat. Her other hand dug into her thigh as she pressed on with the lie. “That’s right,” she said, her voice almost too sweet. She brought her other hand to her forehead in exaggerated dismay. “But it’s so sad—I didn’t prepare any wild wine for my guest… if only a badass delivery girl were around to help.” Nina practically bounced in her grasp. “Oh, me! I’m a bad butt! I’ll do it! And then it won’t be sad!” The honesty in her friend’s eyes made Solune’s gut twist with disgust, but she kept smiling. “Really? Nina, that’s such a big help!” Nina’s wings buzzed with energy. “I’ll be back in a little bit!” Solune felt her eyes start to water, but she blinked it away. Nina was safe—for now. She stretched her arm to the side and pushed her magic outward, searching until it found her staff. Then, like a taut cord snapping, it flew into her hand. She exhaled slowly, planting the staff beside her, and pushed her will down through the stone beneath her. The tower answered. There was no sudden flash or swirl of magic—only motion. The floor beneath her shifted gently, lowering like an ancient lift as the walls rearranged around her. Her bedroom receded. The regal white bed rose into the ceiling, the dresser melted into the walls. In its place, a coffee table emerged, followed by a wide hearth and a plush, oversized sofa. By the time the floor settled, the bricks before her had shimmered and reshaped into a tall, ornate door. Witch and tower—one in the same. Solune readied her staff. Whoever this elf was—whatever transgression they thought she was responsible for—Nina was safe. That was all that mattered. Ten minutes passed. No brimstone. No fire. No death. What was the elf waiting for? Nina couldn’t have made a mistake—fairies were sensitive to the scent of elves. Worry began to creep in. If this standstill went on too long, Nina might return before it was safe. Taking a steady breath, Solune pushed her magic through her staff and toward the door. The heavy stone groaned as the twin halves slowly opened, scraping over grass and kicking up dust. For a tense moment, Solune watched the haze swirl and settle. And with it came her confusion. There was indeed an elf outside her tower. She was just unconscious.

AVERY She had never felt so naked, even fully clothed. The soft lights above her pod were warm and gentle, and the hum of filtered air sounded like a lullaby. The scent—faint vanilla and talc—was meant to calm, but nothing could soothe the dread curling in her stomach as Avery stared through the glass, imagining the life that waited for her on the other side Avery lay back in the molded seat of her transparent pod, the cotton of the pink onesie stretched across her chest was snug and too soft, too childlike. Her wrists rested in soft cuffs that glowed faintly at the seams, trapping her mitten-encased hands on either side of her blonde pigtails. Similar cuffs restrained her legs and left her legs parted obscenely, exposing the thick white bulk of her diaper to the camera’s gaze. Avery knew, intellectually, that she was no longer allowed to be modest. But the instinct to cover herself hadn’t faded. The fabric clung lightly to her, but the thin cotton was no shield against the watching eyes. She could see her reflection in the curved interior—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her chest rose and fell. Avery was on display. Not for her intelligence. Not for her moral fiber. Not even for her smile. Just her body. Her reactions. Her ability to be controlled and aroused. Always the “good girl”, she was raised to be polite, kind, and obedient. Her mother used to remind her, “You don’t have to be loud to be strong.” Avery had carried herself with softness and grace, proud of her quiet strength, and the way she held her head high without needing to step on others to be seen. But now… now she was exposed. Not completely—technically, the onesie covered her body—but Avery felt naked. Her bare legs spread out in front of her, every movement on display. The restraints kept her spread, locking the slight blonde in a posture that made Avery blush every time she caught a glimpse of herself in the pod’s reflective walls. Her reflection was the cruelest part: a girl who looked younger than she was, embarrassed and pink-cheeked, eyes too wide, trying to pretend she wasn’t trembling. Time moved like syrup. Between the feedings, the changes, and the rotations, she tried to mark her moments by what came next. Tummy time. The vibration test. The post-change display with legs lifted; an open diaper placed beneath her bare bottom in case she had an accident. Her eyes squeezed shut as warm air brushed her most intimate places and she felt her body betray her. Again. The subtle vibrations between her legs had started again—gentle, teasing pulses that forced her to squirm. Her nipples stood out against the onesie, traitorous and helpless. Each session blurred the line between medical procedure and indecency. Between being a person and being a product. And every time Avery came, she cried harder. Not because it hurt—but because she couldn't stop it. Avery had only ever been intimate with Jonah. And even then, it was slow, tender, cautious. They hadn't even figured everything out before this happened. She had barely known how to touch herself and now her body, stripped and exposed, responded graphically as her reactions were catalogue and recorded for someone’s notes. Avery pressed her head back into the padded cushion and bit down on the rubber bulb filling her mouth, trying not to sob. Her stomach turned. She used to think modesty was a choice. A virtue. Now it felt like a memory. Like something she’d worn once, hung up neatly in a closet, and could never find again. Because she couldn’t even cover herself. Couldn’t cross her legs. Couldn’t shift her onesie. Couldn’t stop them. Even the color—pink. It was soft and infantile and said what she no longer could about herself: She's a good girl now. Innocent. Obedient. Pretty. It didn’t help that she could see him. His pod was beside hers. The same glow. The same restraints. She glanced at Jonah. His face was flushed, and he looked away. She missed his eyes. That quiet, grounding warmth that had always pulled her back from the edge when things got too hard. She wanted to see him, not as he was now—red-cheeked and diapered—but as he had been before, when they still belonged to themselves. But that life was gone. At least for now. Now, she would be owned. Not just supervised or cared for. Owned. Everything about her, from her blonde hair to the soft curves of her hips, would be cataloged, ranked, and claimed. The people behind the glass weren’t strangers anymore. They were future owners. One of them was going to decide whether she would be treated like a precious thing or a plaything. A girl to be nurtured or one to be humiliated. There was no in-between. Avery tugged lightly against her restraints—soft, clinical bands at her wrists and ankles, padded so they wouldn’t bruise but still firm enough to demand her compliance. Her onesie was snug, the pale pink fabric stretching across her breasts in a way that made her chest look fuller than it really was. She hated that. The snaps on her shoulders made her feel like she was meant to be changed like an infant, dressed and undressed without even needing to remove her restraints. She hated those, too. What would life be like once she was claimed? Would she sleep in a crib? Be spoon-fed? Diapered? The last one sent a wave of nausea through her, though the damp warmth between her legs reminded her it was already too late. She couldn’t count how many times the nurses had reduced her to helpless, humiliating messes, whispering nothing, never explaining, only pressing buttons or stimulating her in clinical silence until she came or wet or broke completely under their watchful eyes. Would her buyer do it more tenderly? Or worse—gleefully? Would they talk to her like a child? Coax her into calling them Mommy or Daddy? Would they dress her in frilly things and parade her around for guests? Would she be made to thank them? Perform? Avery sighed and sucked on her pacifiers to keep herself from crying again. That was happening more often now. Tears coming not from pain, but from shame and powerlessness. And still—still—there was Jonah. He was only a few feet away, and yet so far. He hadn’t looked at her in hours. Was he ashamed of her? Or of himself? Maybe both. She longed to be in his arms again. That warm, safe place she used to disappear into when things got hard. But now he wouldn’t even meet her gaze. She couldn’t tell if it was guilt or shame or just pain—but it hurt. She missed his hands, his soft voice, the way he would hold her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Now strangers would. Strangers would feed her. Bathe her. Dress her. Change her. Her thighs pressed together instinctively at the thought—because they’d touched her there already. In clinical ways, but her body hadn’t known the difference. The soft pressure, the humming pulses, the calculated rhythms designed to make her squirm and whimper and lose herself. The orgasms came too quickly, too easily. It wasn’t supposed to feel good, not like that. Not without love. Not without Jonah. They were going to sell her to someone she didn’t know. Someone watching her right now. People who didn’t care who she was, only how she responded. Were her moans soft? Did she cry prettily? Was she still “modest” enough to be broken further? Avery knew what she looked like on camera. She knew the value of innocence. Of flushed cheeks and shamed sobs. She could see herself as they saw her—just another sweet little thing waiting to be claimed. And what would life be like then? Would she be taken to some pastel nursery in a wealthy estate, spoon-fed mashed fruit and bottle-fed warm milk on someone's lap? Would she have to call someone Daddy? Would she be punished for crying, or worse—rewarded for obedience? Avery didn’t know, but she knew they were watching. And planning. Are they watching the video? The ones where I cried or moaned or begged? What if they liked that? She didn’t want to be good. Not like this. But she didn’t want to be punished either. She just wanted to disappear. But someone was going to take her. And in that moment, her real life would begin. --------------------------------- A new series. I've already posted the next two chapters on REAM and SubscribeStar for this story and I'll be dropping daily chapters there through the weekend.

Ill be alternating between this and "even heroes can be infantilzed." This is to explain how this works before I write the chapter this Saturday. The facless mother never visits those who are sinners. Only the innocent will know her malicious intent. The facless mother never harms, but instead crafts a world the child will hate. The children may think themselves adults. But soon they will find that once graced by the facless mother they are no more then children doomed in her neverland. ... hope yall enjoy. The first chapter is "disability"

Big shoutout to BabySofia for allowing me a special journey at Emerson… Prologue Prologue I double-checked the stack of papers on my desk, the sheen of the ticket to Amazonia catching the afternoon light filtering through the window. My thumb brushed over the official seal stamped on the invitation from Emerson University. It was real, as real as the hum of excitement in my veins. "Hey, Bix, look what happened!" Eric's voice, laced with a hint of mischief, pulled me from my reverie. I turned to see him holding up a mangled action figure, its arm hanging by a thread. "You didn't 'accidentally' step on it again, did you?" I arched an eyebrow at him. His sheepish grin betrayed him. "Maybe it fought one too many battles?" With a chuckle, I took the toy from his outstretched hand. "Superheroes need a break too, you know." In no time, I had the arm secured back in place. Eric snatched the figure back with a grin. "You're the best, Bix!" The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. "Alright, time to gear up for bed." He groaned, dragging his feet like he was wading through mud. "But I don't wanna…” "You know the drill," I said firmly. "No discussion." Pouting, Eric trudged off to his room and returned moments later, his posture slumped but his Drynite in place under his pajamas. I gave him a quick once-over. "Good job." A nod of approval and he beamed like he'd won a medal. We settled into the couch as the screen flickered to life with his favorite animated adventure. Our mom would be home soon to join us—just another evening for us Echavoyen boys. —— Eric snuggled closer, his head resting against my side. The heroes on screen leaped and dodged with impossible grace, but I could feel the tension in Eric's small frame. "Bix," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the action unfolding on TV. "You're gonna be so far away. What if I can't talk to you?" I pulled out the sleek, dedicated phone from my pocket and waved it gently in front of him. "Got this just for us, kiddo. We'll chat every day. Pinky promise." His eyes lit up, reflecting the colors dancing across the screen. "For real?" "Cross my heart." I hooked my pinky with his, sealing the deal. As the show reached its climax, I glanced down at Eric's waistline. Absently, my hand patted his hip, checking the Drynite beneath his pajamas. Eric caught my motion and giggled. "Still dry, Bix! No leaks!" "Good job, little bro." My words might've been casual, but pride swelled in my chest. It was one less thing for him to worry about with me gone. He beamed up at me, all worry momentarily forgotten as we lost ourselves in the world of capes and daring rescues. The credits rolled, and the room was filled with a silence that seemed louder than the show's final explosions. I glanced down at Eric, his eyelids heavy, fighting the inevitable. "C'mon, time to hit the hay," I murmured, scooping him up in my arms. He mumbled a protest but nestled into my shoulder, his breaths deepening. As I carried him to his room, the softness of his hair against my cheek reminded me how much I'd miss these little moments. His room was a fortress of blankets and plush toys, a sanctuary for a ten-year-old with an imagination as vast as the sea outside our door. Gently, I laid him down on his bed, the action figure from earlier clutched in his hand like a talisman. With practiced ease, I checked his Drynite one last time—no dampness, no telltale warmth of an accident. A small victory for him and a relief for me. "Stay dry for me while I'm gone, okay?" I whispered more to myself than to him. His response was a sleepy nod as he turned onto his side, still half in the realm of dreams. Leaning over, I planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, Eric," I said softly. I flicked off the light and closed the door behind me with a quiet click. My room awaited me—a tangle of clothes and scattered textbooks. The weight of my upcoming journey pressed on my shoulders like the gravity of another world. Collapsing onto my bed, thoughts of Amazonia and its giants swirled in my mind. But as I lay there in the dark, exhaustion crept over me like an incoming tide. My eyelids grew heavy and soon, without even intending to, I slipped into sleep's embrace. The illusion of normalcy Chapter 1 The hum of the car's engine played a soothing backdrop to my racing heart. Every kilometer we covered, the weight of my anticipation grew, pressing against my chest like a physical force. Mom's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, her eyes flickering to the rearview mirror to catch glimpses of Eric and me. "Almost there," she murmured, as much to herself as to us. Eric, perched on the edge of his seat, clutched the contraption I'd given him. His fingers danced over the gears and levers, eyes narrowed in concentration. I couldn't help but smile at his determination. "What does this do, Bix?" he asked, fumbling with a particularly stubborn cog. I leaned back, crossing my arms behind my head. "You've got six months to figure it out." He huffed, a playful scowl forming on his face. "That's not fair! Give me a hint!" "Nope," I replied with a smirk. "Where's the fun in that?" Mom chuckled, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror again. "Bixente, don't tease your brother too much." "Aw, come on, Mom. It's part of the charm of being siblings, you know big bro little bro thingies” Eric finally managed to rotate the cog, which triggered a series of clicks and whirrs within the device. His face lit up like he'd discovered fire. "Did you hear that? It did something!" I leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "The first secret unlocked." Mom took a turn into the University of Bordeaux campus with practiced ease. My heart leapt; this was it—the gateway to Amazonia was just within reach. "You sure you packed everything?" Mom asked as she parked. "Three times over," I assured her. "Can't be too careful when stepping into another universe." Eric snorted and muttered something about forgetting my brain. I ruffled his hair. "Better not forget your padding at night while I'm gone." It was an old jab but delivered with affection that only brothers understand. Eric swatted my hand away but couldn't hide his grin. "Yeah? And you better not wet yourself from excitement over there." We all laughed—a mixture of nerves and joy—as I shouldered my bag and stepped out of the car. Mom followed suit and wrapped me in a hug so tight it could've rivaled any Amazonian embrace. "Be safe," she whispered. "I will." I hugged her back just as fiercely. Then it was Eric's turn. He looked up at me with those big eyes that held worlds within them—worlds I was about to leave behind for a while. "I'll figure this out before you're back," he said, holding up the contraption with determined pride. "I don't doubt it for a second," I replied, giving him one last squeeze. With their goodbyes still warming my ears, I turned towards destiny—towards Amazonia—and didn't look back. I tread across the university courtyard, each step echoing with the promise of the unknown. The scene around me buzzes like a beehive on a summer day. Students clutch their loved ones in drawn-out embraces, murmurs of encouragement blending with the rustle of luggage and the soft thuds of back-pats. I drink it all in—the poignant mix of excitement and sorrow that hangs heavy in the air. Some, like me, are solo travelers, their eyes reflecting a fierce kind of solitude. It's in these solitary figures I find a kinship, each of us about to step into a world that'll stretch our very sense of self. A group of girls nearby giggle nervously, one biting her lip as she scans a holographic checklist projected from her wristband. Her gaze catches mine, and for a brief moment, we share an unspoken understanding before she turns back to her friends. Taking a deep breath, I adjust my backpack and head towards the portal's entrance. The building looms ahead—a fusion of stone and steel cradling the gate to Amazonia within its modern embrace. My hand grazes the sleek surface of the door as it slides open silently, welcoming me into its depths. Inside, the air is cooler, tinged with an electric charge that makes my hair stand on end. I follow the signs to the departure lounge, my steps measured and deliberate. Walls adorned with vivid murals depict scenes from Amazonia—towering figures walking alongside lush vegetation that dwarfs even them. A voice breaks through my reverie, "You look ready for an adventure." I turn to see an attendant with a knowing smile. She hands me a pamphlet—'Your Guide to Amazonia: What to Expect.' I offer her a grateful nod and tuck it into my pocket for later. Ahead lies the portal corridor; it beckons like an outstretched hand. The threshold pulses with energy that seems alive, whispering secrets of what lies beyond. I pause at its entrance. This is it—the cusp of everything new. My pulse quickens as I step forward into the corridor's embrace, leaving behind the echoes of farewells and stepping toward a chorus of hellos that await in another world.

(Yes, I know I should continue my Dragon Quest AR story, but three ideas for this site have really struck me lately - one of which, thus far, is eighty-four Google Doc pages thus far, and likely will push into the 500-page range. No, this is not that story; I want to absolutely finish it before posting here - and this is the one I've found the most time working on lately, so this is the story I'm gonna post here. I don't know at what intervals I can post it; I thought I had it with the Dragon Quest story, but I have three chapters done so far, and I'm closing in on a fourth and more. Let's just say a monthly updating schedule?) (Anyway, this is Salutatorians! It's a much darker spin on a Daddy Dom-Little Girl story, not because of any punishments or sexual stuff in particular - the former because I'm not into punishments by a parental figure because I've had those punishments done as a kid for no reason in the past and I'm averse to it, and the latter because I'm a virgin and won't write sex scenes when I have no idea how to write them - but because of just how dark this story gets for the characters. As trigger warnings, suicide, mental illness, violence, abuse of children (including sexual (not shown), physical, and emotional), domestic violence, cursing (including sexist rhetoric), and explicit description of injury (including blood, broken bones, and torn ligaments).) (If you haven't been scared off yet, I promise to write this story to the best of my ability, and I promise that, while I will not shy away from any of those trigger warnings, I will write it as tactfully and as respectfully to those who still wish to read it as I possibly can. These things are not in the story for anything other than plot reasons; this, I swear with all of my heart and soul. But I've said my piece. It's up to you if you want to read or not. I hope you'll read, but I won't be upset if you don't; I'm writing this story as much for me as for you.) EDIT: About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. - Chapter One: Yet Another Date. - Eiluned Mostyn was silent as she prepared her large black tote bag, black gloves, an ankle-length black hooded down coat, and a hot-pink scarf for the cold February Minnesota weather, ready for another dinner date. The college sophomore - formerly from Torfaen, Wales (Cwmbran, if one wanted to get personal) - had tried for a fair few dates with men on Tinder. Those fair few had claimed they were Welsh, claimed they knew her from school or whatever, claimed a lot of things that, after she dug deeper, weren’t true. She always ended up swiping left for most of the cases, and the few dates she had gone for had gone nowhere. This new guy seemed interesting…because she remembered him from a long while back. Ifor Sealy. Just a month older than she was, both of them being twenty years of age. Moved to Tennessee from Wales like she had (except he had been from Bridgend). She remembered him from middle school in eighth grade before she moved away to Minnesota the following year, and lost contact with him. And now he showed up? Out of the blue? Like nothing ever happened? Sure, Eiluned had done her research; the profile proved that he was exactly who he said he was, and for some reason, according to his FaceBook and Twitter pages, he had transferred to Minnesota - THE University of Minnesota, where she was studying mechanical engineering - for reasons all his own (i.e., football). But why? Why had he moved here, of all the places he could’ve moved? Surely it didn’t have to do with…her, right? No, couldn’t be. Absolutely couldn’t be! She shook her head and shivered as she stepped into the chilly evening air, got into her car - a beat up Honda - turned the key into the ignition, and drove off to the meeting site: Hell’s Kitchen Minneapolis, a popular hotspot for the college crowd. It wasn’t that far, but she didn’t feel comfortable walking to dates. Too many horror stories, and she was smarter than that. She was one of the best students, a salutatorian in her Minnesota high school. She worked hard for everything she had. And yet… Eiluned froze, trying to drive…it out of her mind. It was her own horror story that made her this way. She didn’t want to think about it. It was something she had worked hard to get rid of, and yet, it was always at the back of her mind, and it stayed there on the short drive to the place, all the way until she pulled into the parking lot, where Ifor was already there, apparently waiting for her. The first thing about Ifor that she noted was that he was a lot bigger than her (although she shouldn’t have been surprised; he was an offensive line transfer from Vanderbilt). She was small at 5’1”, 105 pounds, and he absolutely dwarfed her, like a full-grown redwood tree would dwarf a sapling; he had to be 6’7”, 295 pounds. His hair was down past his shoulder blades, a curly ginger mop that he had tucked away from his gleaming ocean-blue eyes; he wouldn’t have looked out of place in a movie about Celtic warriors, except for his gap-toothed grin showing a playful side of him. He wore a coat that was a surprising fit over a black dress shirt, khaki pants, and a pair of worn brown boots that looked like they had at least been cleaned for the date. Well, you certainly dressed to impress, Ifor. Now what do you want? Eiluned sighed, brushing her dark-brown bangs away from her sage-green eyes. “Helo, Ifor, ” she began calmly. “Shwmae?” “Da iawn, diolch, Eiluned,” he replied with an accent that was decidedly not Welsh, yet somehow seeming natural to those words; he was a man who had obviously grown up in a Welsh family. She gestured to the sign. “Why here?” Ifor shrugged. “I hear they make a nice Lucy burger, and I’ve never had one before,” he said in a surprising Southern drawl; she had expected him to speak more…Welsh-ly. “Why do you have a Southern accent, Ifor?” she asked, a little more sharply than intended. To his credit, the harshness of the question seemed to roll off him. “I’ve lived in Tennessee since I was almost seven. Sorry, I bet you expected a Welsh accent?” “Then how do I know you’re actually Ifor Sealy and not some creepy imposter?” He sighed before reaching into his pants pocket for his wallet, and giving his ID to her. “If there’s a creepy imposter my size using my name, I’d definitely be scared.” She looked at the ID, noted that it was undeniable proof Ifor was who he said he was. “Fine. I apologize for misunderstanding; you can never be too careful.” “If the situations were reversed, I’d do the same thing. So, are we going to stand in the cold for the night or do we go in?” Eiluned nodded. “Let’s go in.” - (So, this is the first chapter. As a note, those supposedly unpronounceable words are Welsh (which is admittedly not a language I know, so please forgive me if I don't get them right; I tried my best and looked up as much as I could, and I promise to correct them if they're wrong.). I'll give you a quick translation and pronunciation (from what I could find on Google Translate and various sites): (Helo = Hello. Pronounced "hell", obviously.) (Shwmae = How are you? (informal). Pronounced "shoo - mai".) (Da iawn, diolch = Very good, thanks. (Pronounced "da - yaown - dee - och (ch is the same as in "loch".) (Cwmbran = Kuum = brawn) (As for how the story goes...well, we'll certainly see what happens, won't we?)

I thought it was time for a Christmas story. I've got a good bit worked out already. This is just a teaser for the first chapter. Before every part I will try to post triggers that will appear. This will either go really well or really bad. If the latter happens I'll probably stop. These stories have all affected me in my past. My fantasy or fancy is that great can come from grave. We have to hold those things in our hearts, the things that are good. I won't call it easy or simple but when the world shows how cruel it is we can show the good. It's not to say scars won't remain, but we can use those scars to remind us of exactly what we refuse to ever be. -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- Everyone knows the story of Saint Nicholas. Yeah, yeah, jolly old man, with the jello belly. Laughs like he's insulting the world. You know the 8 tiny reindeer dragging around his overly puffy, wrapped in red velvet self. We all know that story, it's been drilled into us since birth. We've grown up on his kindness and his joy. His mystery feeds us as we try to understand how he manages such feats year after year. Truly, we all know that story. We may even recall his famous little Rudolph. With his nose all aglow. Guiding the sleigh to safe harbor in storms. His fame may even rival Santa Claus. He stands among the greats, saving Christmas time and again. Yes, even his accomplishments have breached the isolation of the north pole and made it to the mere mortals. These stories we know by heart, they sing us to sleep through the year, and for one night they rouse our excitement and refuse us rest. Yes we know these by heart…. But there is a story that is not told often, one that often is overlooked, or worse…. wrongly told. This is a story of another great good. For only good things are allowed at the north pole. Only pure hearts, honorable intentions, these things are allowed in this place of wonder. However, Selfless love is desired above all others in the North Pole. In reality, all of the greatest stories here are rooted and built on selfless love. The story, our story, is all about finding that one virtue. Finding it where it has held strong, held strong against tyrannical monsters, against overbearing circumstances. Where it has stood as a bastion of hope for the weak, refusing to die amidst the suffering. This story is about bringing that selfless love to the place where it will be grown and nurtured. Where it will be celebrated and cheered. Warmed and cherished, much to the dismay of the oppressive envious ones who witness the miracle of our story. It is true our story always begins in the ruins, it will, however, always end in a palace. You see, for those to be given the honor, there must be proof. It must be evident that their hearts do not waver. Even in the darkest nights, the lowest valleys, the coldest winters, or the loudest tempest. Yes, our story may not be widely known, nor is it famous from the songs sung by millions of children, but we know, yes we know the story. We know it all too well, we have lived it, and with each new face it is refreshed in our minds and hearts. Now you will know it too, hereafter, Yes you will know it too. You see, it is time we like all the other immortals tell the story, the great story, the story of our greatest benefactor. The story of Mrs. Clause...

One pill makes you larger, And one pill makes you small I lay on my unmade bed, the sunlight filtering in through the curtains and casting a warm glow over my room. It was a mess, with clothes strewn across the floor and posters peeling off the walls. My eyes were fixed on the letter in my hand, my mind racing with excitement and fear. The invitation to the exchange student program in another dimension was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a way to break free from the shadows of my father and brother. I had always lived in their shadow, always felt like a disappointment. But doubts swirled in my mind. What if I failed? What if I didn't fit in? Despite my fears, I needed advice from someone who understood the weight of this decision. Despite our complicated relationship, I decided to call Alex, my older brother and the heir to our father's corrupt empire. "Hey, it's Eric," I said, my voice trembling with nerves. "I received a letter about an exchange student program in another dimension. I wanted to know your thoughts on it." There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Alex spoke. "It might be worth considering. It could be a chance for you to grow up a little." I bristled at his words, but I knew he was right. I had been living a reckless and aimless life, and this program could be the opportunity I needed to find a sense of purpose. After the call, I decided to speak to my father. I walked down the long hallway to his office, my heart pounding in my chest. He was a distant and imposing figure, always focused on business and the success of his corrupt empire. But I needed to know what he thought about the program. As I entered the room, my father's eyes locked onto mine. He was surrounded by his business associates, his face stern and unyielding. "What do you want?" he asked sharply. I handed him the letter and said, "I received an invitation to an exchange student program in another dimension. I wanted to know what you thought about it." He scanned the letter, his expression unreadable. "It's your decision to make, Eric. But remember, you will be representing our family. Make sure you conduct yourself accordingly." "I understand," I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "I just wanted to know if you thought it was a good opportunity." My father hesitated for a moment before saying, "It could be. But it's up to you to make the most of it." I nodded, feeling a sense of relief. My father had never been one for words of encouragement, but his neutral response was better than a negative one. As I left my father's office, the letter still clutched in my hand, I felt a new sense of purpose. This was my chance to break free from the expectations of my family, to find a path of my own. It was a risk worth taking. The days between the acceptance of my application and my departure for the exchange program were both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. I spent hours poring over travel guides and packing and repacking my bags. My father didn't say much about my upcoming journey, but I could tell he was secretly pleased. Perhaps he saw this as an opportunity for me to make something of myself and shed the reputation of being a disappointment. "Make sure you conduct yourself appropriately," he said gruffly, as I sat in his office going over my travel documents. "I will, Dad," I said, trying to keep my voice even. Alex surprised me with a thoughtful gift - a new set of tools to work on my beloved car. It was a reminder that despite our differences, he still cared about my passions. "Make sure you take good care of it," he said, handing me the toolbox. "And be careful out there. It's a strange world in that dimension." "I will," I said, surprised at the show of concern from my older brother. As the day of my departure drew near, I couldn't shake the nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. The idea of leaving everything I knew behind and entering a completely new dimension was both exciting and terrifying. "I don't know if I can do this," I said to Alex as we sat in the living room, surrounded by my bags. "What if I don't fit in? What if I'm not good enough?" "You'll be fine," Alex said, clapping me on the back. "It's scary, I know. But you're brave, Eric. And you're smart. You'll figure it out." I felt a warmth in my chest at his words. Perhaps our relationship wasn't irreparably broken after all. On the morning of my departure, my father gave me a curt nod and wished me luck. Alex gave me a rare smile and a pat on the back, wishing me well on my journey. As I made my way to the portal that would take me to the new dimension, I felt a mix of excitement and fear. But I knew that this was my chance to break free from the expectations of my family, to find a path of my own. It was a risk worth taking.

Is it haunted?! Cursed?! An SCP?! We don't know, sis, we just gonna have to find out! I hope you enjoy this tricky treat and if you do let me know and if you don't let me know, and if you think Halloween is awesome then you might be a little awesome yourself, and if you think Halloween is stupid and like Christmas is better, we can't be friends, I'm sorry. Dayscare By: The Unknown Author Ouija_Look_At_That has started streaming! “Hola, bitchachos! It’s your fine ass guide to the world of the weird and macabre, Ouija and I am here at the Glenwood Pines Mall for my fourth annual Livescream!” Ouija said in an excited tone. Ouija didn’t look like a guide to the world of the weird and macabre, she didn’t look like she should even be out of bed at nine thirty on a school night, let alone be breaking into a building that had been abandoned for longer than she’d been alive. Standing at an absolutely dizzying four feet six inches and dressed like she’d shoplifted her whole personality from a Hot Topic bargain bin, the edgy streamer made her way through the entry area of the mall as she began her highly anticipated event. “Alright, so in case you’re not hip to the story, this mall used to be THE spot for everyone in the tristate area to come and piss away their time and money.” Ouija explained as she hopped up onto one of the tile benches connected to a large planter in the middle of the entryway, “The mall was so big and so popular that it had its own daycare center, a place called Bright Beginnings.” she continued as she spread her arms out to her sides and walked along the edge of the planter like a balance beam, “The owner and CEO of Bright Beginnings was a woman named Mary Gallagher and literally the only pictures I could find of her made her look like a fucking schoolmarm ghost all full of vengeance and shit.” she said as she reached the end of the planter and hopped down. Ouija’s setup for her exploration was a camera harnessed to her chest so her face was always onscreen and allowed her hands to remain free unless she was using one of her handheld cameras, and another camera attached to her head to allow everyone to see what she saw. On her forearm was a tablet that allowed her to read her chat and switch to whatever camera she wanted as well as playback what they recorded in real time. This was her fourth “livescream’, an event where she went to spooky or allegedly haunted places and explored them with her audience overnight on Halloween. Her record was spotty at best for being the bravest of explorers, her first livescream ending prematurely when she’d tripped over a lip she hadn’t seen in the showers of a women’s insane asylum and broken her camera, her second had gone significantly better despite her wetting herself when a chunk of ceiling crashed down in the room beside her while she was exploring an old doll factory. Last year’s livescream was what had put her on the map though, a flawless exploration of a children’s hospital from around the turn of the century that saw her peak at three thousand live viewers and millions of views after that. No one knew the lengths she’d gone to to make her events perfect, the hours of research and location scouting, the equipment setup, the extra protection she now wore for the event to prevent anyone from finding out she’d wet or soiled herself out of fear, all of it was done for the benefit of her legion of fans and the sizable paycheck she got out of it was a bonus that helped her bruised ego deal with the fact that beneath her dark clothes and tattoos and piercings was a small girl wearing absorbent underwear with childish patterns on them. “Bright Beginnings was nestled between The Cookie Cookery and an upscale pen store called ‘Fountain of Couth’, which is a legit amazing name and was in operation from 1989 to 1993.” she continued explaining as she approached the dilapidated escalators ahead, “An estimated two and a half million kids spent at least one hour at the daycare in those four years, which is a metric fuckton of snotty noses and shitty diapers.” she joked as she assessed the stability of the escalator and opted to take the nearby stairs after noticing significant amounts of rust and decay in the metal steps of the escalator. “I know, you’re probably wondering why the mall itself was abandoned, and we’ll get to that, but before we do, we need to understand what happened at Bright Beginnings that caused such damage to the reputation of the mall.” she continued as she trudged up the stairs, stepping over chunks of ceiling and broken glass as she made her way to the second floor. “Ouija” was obviously not the girl’s given name, but she’d gone to great lengths to keep her identity a secret, and to even greater lengths to keep her former persona and content from being discovered. Two years before she’d “gone to the dark side” and made decaying buildings her playground, she was known to her small band of a dozen or so followers as “Snugglecorn” and focused solely on the ABDL lifestyle and being as cute and sweet as she could for her viewing audience, but then she’d picked up a creeper that had scared her so badly in his attempts to connect with her that she’d purged everything of that life, fallen into a deep depression and become a harder, darker person because of it. It was only when she started seeing success as “Ouija” that she softened and allowed herself to be less severe all the time, adding pink highlights to her ebony locks and finding cute things to wear that also happened to be on the darker side, like the skeletal cat on her sweatshirt that was dribbling milk below it from its open ribcage as it lapped at a saucer. “In 1993, an anonymous tip came in to the police about some weird sounds coming from the owner’s office and lo and behold, they found a door behind the bookcase that led to a whole section of the building no one knew existed.” she explained as she reached the top of the stairs and looked down at the first floor, the pitch black abyss making her shudder softly as she continued on. “In the hidden area they found this entire other daycare setup that was sized for adults and found almost twenty people confined in one way or another inside.” she said as she peered over the railing to the ground below on her way down the length of the upstairs area as she headed toward her destination. Something she’d never told her followers when she’d first stumbled across the Bright Beginnings saga was that she’d been enthralled by the idea that a normal daycare had had a secret adult daycare in back, something that the less than completely vanished from within her Snugglecorn had broken out her pacifier for after her very important grownup work was done, imagining herself in such a place, ignoring the awful aspects of the story in favor of happier fantasy scenarios. “Y’all, when I say shit was fucked up, I mean it was six ways from Sunday bat shit.” she told her audience as she shone her flashlight into the vacant buildings lining the upstairs promenade, “Some people were restrained in cribs, others in highchairs,” she stopped walking, “one report claimed that one of the men had been,” she made a gesture with her index finger and hand to illustrate that an appendage the man had previously had had been removed against his will, “but nothing concrete was ever really said about any of the victims, just that they never spoke again after they were rescued.” she added as she started walking again, looking at her chat as she did. DarkDesire: Hey from Ontario, Ouija! ❤️ Devil’s_Plaything: I heard the place is mad haunted. PanicWithTheCrisco: How did you even get into the mall? News said cops were guarding it because of you. Sad_Tromboner: This place is hella sketch be careful little girl BoneFairy: This better be scarier than the time you shit yourself “Hey, DarkDesire, thanks for joining the fun!” she said with a smile, “DP, I’m hoping it’ll haunted, but nobody died in ‘the incident’, so we may just have dust bunnies and disappointment.” she said to Devil’s_Plaything, a channel regular and one of her biggest supporters, “Cris,” she started, shortening the longer than she wanted to say name of the third commentor, “your girl is extremely crafty and her stealth game is on point.” she finished saying a second before she kicked a beer can she hadn’t seen and sent it rocketing forward where it clanged loudly against the metal railing and fell down to the first floor where it clattered loudly. She stood still with her shoulders hunched and teeth gritted until the sudden noise stopped, “Anyone makes a comment about that, we’re not friends anymore.” she teased as she caught her breath and took stock of just how much she’d peed when the silence was suddenly broken. She rolled her eyes at the last two comments, “I may be a smaller than average girl, but I am NOT a little girl, Tromboner, and fuck you, BoneFairy, I maybe peed a little but in my defense, a fucking whole ass ceiling collapsed like twenty feet from where I was sitting, so I’d say I handled it pretty well.” she said, trying not to get into a fight with randos on the internet, but also setting the record straight before anyone else wanted to act up about her height or the one time she’d had an accident out of fear. BoneFairy: Just saying, maybe keep an eye out for a diaper that got left behind Devil’s_Plaything: Ignore the haters, Ouija, you’re badass for doing this! More responses agreeing with Devil’s_Plaything and shutting down BoneFairy poured in as she continued to walk, “Anyone ever play the game Condemned?” she asked, shining her light into a broken store window with a battered mannequin torso laying face down in the broken glass, “It was this first person game where you go to creepy abandoned places and one of the levels was a department store and psycho ass homeless people wore mannequin masks and stood super still until you walked past.” she explained, a shiver of fear running down her spine as she remembered screaming so loud she woke her parents up and then she slept with the lights on for three days afterward. Ouija was a persona, like Snugglecorn had been, aspects of them were from her real personality, but she was nowhere near as brave in real life as she was when she was Ouija, much the same as she was far less of a baby than she was when she’d been Snugglecorn. Her true personality lived in the space between those two, she embraced her small size and liked to be seen as cute and little, but she also had a penchant for the darker things in life and she’d been contemplating finding a way to allow her to be herself on her channel, but feared losing her audience if she revealed the lighter side of herself to them. She continued forward down the upstairs promenade, shells of stores flanking her, graffiti and broken glass everywhere she looked as her flashlight beam danced over the decayed ruins of the mall, and then she saw her destination looming in the inky blackness and everything became far more real. In the mall, she was just a girl alone in an abandoned building, but Bright Beginnings was a legit crime scene, a place where truly bizarre and unexplained things had happened and somehow she was just now feeling the weight of her choice to visit this place. “Okay, I think I see Bright Beginnings.” she said, struggling to keep her nerves in check so her voice didn’t let everyone watching know that she was really scared now, “Are you guys seeing this?” she asked. The Cookie Cookery had been destroyed by vandals, the menu that had hung on the back wall behind the counter had been smashed and torn down, the counter itself obliterated by a small stack of broken cinderblocks, the appliances gone leaving hanging wires and cracked walls and tiles in their place. Likewise, Fountain of Couth looked like a car had driven through it, the display cases inside smashed to pieces, the sign above the entrance blocking most of the entryway as it dangled lifelessly from the wires that had set it aglow years prior, but Bright Beginnings was in pristine condition. “This place hasn’t been touched.” she said in a hushed tone of transfixed amazement, “I mean, every other place in here looks like it went twelve rounds with a wrecking ball, but Bright Beginnings doesn’t even have dirty windows!” she marveled as she approached the daycare. The front of the daycare had panels of glass ten or so feet high that stretched about ten feet across to allow the shoppers outside to see the playroom in front and to allow the kids to look out if they wanted to, making everything brighter and less like the prison for toddlers a daycare is. The sign above was a cutesy cartoon trio of suns, a mother and father and a baby, the mother sign hovering above pale pink high heels, her face adorned with lipstick and earrings that floated on the side of her head connected to nothing while the father sun had a hat, briefcase and tie to convey how professional he was, and then the baby sun floated between them with a diaper cupping the bottom curve of the baby’s body as he held his parent’s hands, smiling behind his pacifier. C.H.U.D._Nelson: I’m no scientician, but that building shouldn’t be in perfect condition. CrunkBunny: Right?! Even if the people that fucked the rest of this place up didn’t touch it, time would’ve done something to it. SignalFire: RUN OUIJA SHIT IS HAINTED, YO! Ouija wasn’t looking at the comments, she was looking at the front window and approaching it slowly, looking into the playroom beyond as she held her flashlight above her head to shine in. The playroom was immaculate, like normal business would begin the next morning as though decades hadn’t passed without anyone being inside. “Alright, I’m going in, so here’s the rules for the night,” she said, her heart racing with anticipation and fear, “once I’m in, I can’t leave until morning, in addition to periodic polls I’ll be putting up for you guys to vote on, donations of certain amounts will allow you to give me tasks to carry out, which, as always, does not include sex stuff.” she explained, warning the perverts in her chat not to waste their money to try and see her tits. The chat erupted in hundreds of messages of support and excitement as she took a deep breath and went to the front door, placing her hand on the handle and giving a firm tug, only to find the door locked. “Well, that sucks.” she said glumly, giving the bottom of the door a kick, “Maybe there’s an access point from next door.” she mused as she headed toward the Cookie Cookery, stepping through the remains of the splintered counter carefully as she made her way to the back to the storeroom of the bakery, the door hanging limply by one screw in the top hinge, the door itself splintered like Jack Torrence had decided he really needed cookie making supplies suddenly. The storeroom was little more than a closet, broken boxes and debris from whatever had been inside them strewn about the floor, but all Ouija cared about was the metal grate on the back wall that was miraculously undamaged. “Alright, guys, that vent shares a wall with the daycare, so it’s my best shot of getting inside.” she told her audience as she looked around for something to stand on so she could reach the vent to see what she needed to do to open it. She decided to lug a few of the more complete cinderblocks into the storeroom and use them as a base for a metal trashcan she found that was only slightly dented. “Wish me luck!” she said as she climbed up onto the edges of the cinderblocks and then shakily onto the trashcan, rising to a standing position as she balanced on the bottom of the can and reached up to the vent, “Shit, it’s screwed in and I don’t have anything with me to take the screws out!” she lamented, a sour expression on her face as she climbed back down. Defeated, she walked out of the storeroom, “I’m sorry, guys, I guess we’re not going to be able to get in tonight.” she informed her audience glumly as she saw her viewer count begin to drop as negative comments poured in slamming her for her various failures with regards to prep and scouting. QueenShark: Umm, the door is open? Ouija read the comment and the numerous others echoing it, in addition to the spams of “OMG look out behind you, they have a knife” and turned to see the front door of the daycare standing open, “What the actual-” she whispered as she cautiously approached the open door, moving far from it as she went in case someone jumped out at her as she shone her light into the building beyond, “You guys heard me try the door, it was locked.” she said. YourMomIsMySideChick: Yeah, I wouldn’t… “Okay, I know it’s super fucking weird and not at all normal, but if it means we can go in, I’m going in.” Ouija said as she took a few steps forward, scanning the area around her and looking through the front window for any sign that someone was waiting for her. The difference between the mall outside and the interior of the daycare was something she’d never experienced before, she’d gone from outside of a creepy building to inside and felt the heaviness of the place close in around her, the staleness of the air suffocate her, but this was new. The mall had felt hollow, like the decaying shell that it was, it smelled dirty and dusty and was chilly because of numerous broken windows that allowed the Fall night air to compromise the otherwise enclosed space, but Bright Beginnings was warm, like the heat was running to combat the chill. Crossing the threshold was like stepping into a hermetically sealed space that hadn’t appeared to age or decay in any way that she could see. Her light danced from place to place in the entryway, to her right was the check in counter, cream colored Formica and yellow pine waiting to receive the patrons of the establishment with messages taped to the counter’s surface and a silver bell with a little sign that cheerfully requested someone ring the bell for assistance. Across from the counter was a cutout with a narrow bench built into it, cubbies beneath for shoes, some still containing little shoes left behind when the daycare had been suddenly shut down. Behind the counter was a line of hooks for coats, with several hooks still containing small jackets of various bright colors, and even a few umbrellas and hats. “This is fucking creepy.” she said softly as she shone her light around to the other side of the entryway to the four or so foot high wall with a thin wooden top and a small door in the middle, the set up making her think of a bar or a skating rink or something, a way to keep the little one’s corralled but also allow parents to look in on the kids at pick up or drop off times. She closed and locked the front door behind her, to keep anyone from coming in from outside, and made her way to the little door, she felt her cheeks flush at the knowledge that she’d have to go through it because she couldn’t actually see over the wall to the playroom on the other side, and took hold of the knob and gave it a little turn and letting gravity take over as the door gently moved away from her to allow her access. Beyond the little wall, the playroom sat silent and dark, bins of various sizes lined the walls, some with closed lids and some with toys piled high or spilling over. The expansive open area was littered with toys for various stages of development, the little art table in the corner still had open coloring books and loose crayons on it, one of the chairs laying on its back on the floor as though the occupant had literally jumped up and run from the place. BabaYaga: It’s like a time capsule. Ouija nodded when she read the comment, “Nothing about this place feels like it’s been abandoned for decades.” she said in disbelief. The little door gently struck the wall when it reached its fully open position and she jumped and spun around to shine her light on it, chuckling nervously as she closed the door to keep it from banging again later. The thing that struck her was the smell, she’d been in abandoned buildings before, and they all had some degree of must, moldy walls or floors, standing water, something pungent that made her breathe through her mouth for the duration of her investigations, but this place smelled like a daycare, she smelled baby powder and plastic and cleaning supplies used to disinfect toys and surfaces, she smelled warmth and life and care, like a home would smell. She’d claimed the place creeped her out for the benefit of her audience, but really, apart from being dark and knowing something fucked up had happened in the back room, she felt safer here than she’d ever felt during her other investigations. Devil’s_Plaything: Heads up, Ouija, but I hit up your socials to let people know you got in, I saw that some people left after the vent didn’t work. She smiled, “Thanks, DP, I really appreciate it!” she said, making her way to the row of low cabinets to set her camera down, “I guess we’ll take a small break here to wait for people to come back.” she said, looking around the room, “I’m going to set up a few cameras in here so we have other angles and see if I can find a ladies room before we start.” she explained as she took her backpack off and set it down to get set up. ********** The audience had not just returned to its former glory, but had nearly doubled in the time it took her to set up her stationary cameras to allow for the whole main room to be visible. She’d found the staff bathroom, but the door had been locked, so she’d simply taken a moment to relieve herself in her pull-up and change into a fresh one off camera. With everything ready to go, she picked her camera back up and put her headset camera back on. “Alright, everyone, we’re here in Bright Beginnings, the abandoned daycare that allegedly housed a secret adult nursery in the back room, and I’m ready to explore this place, how about you?” she asked the audience, nodding and smiling as hundreds of comments agreeing with her poured in. Off the playroom was a corridor that led to a small kitchen/break area on the right, a bathroom for the kids on the left with a trough sink and half a dozen partitioned alcoves with plastic potties set up in them. She felt a pang of shame at having willingly wet her pull-up when she could’ve peed in either the sink or one of the potties, but shame was a big turn on for her, so she chose to enjoy the feeling rather than be self conscious about it. At the end of the corridor was the locked staff bathroom, and just to the right of that was a closet. “So, the kitchen/break area smells like burnt popcorn, fucking Deborah and her blind trust that the popcorn button on the microwave would do its job.” she joked as she panned her light and camera around the small room before making her way to the cabinets, opening the ones below that she could reach to reveal exactly what you’d expect to find, supplies for the kids meals, plastic baggies, containers of dry cereal, cans of fruits and veggies, paper towels. One of the chairs allowed her access to the higher cabinets which she found contained babyfood, coffee cups, bottles and sippy cups, nothing out of the ordinary. On the counter was a wicker basket piled high with folded bibs and in the corner beside the trash can was a stacked washer and dryer and a laundry basket with soiled bibs and blankets and even a few articles of kids clothes. She went to the fridge and opened it, shining her light into the dark appliance at the juices and veggies and things for fresh snacks as well as bottles with tape on them and names written in sharpie to denote which child got which bottle. The middle shelf was full of medicine, also labeled for the appropriate child, and the top shelf was for the workers lunches and drinks. “Shouldn’t this all be rotten and just a fucking nightmare?” she wondered, reaching in and picking up a container of juice that was shockingly still cold. “Okay, this is cold, you guys.” she said, “This place doesn’t have power though, I checked.” she explained. Comments flooded in about ghosts and someone being behind her with a knife as she left the kitchen for the bathroom across the hall, where jokes about her height and youthful appearance began, taunts about her accident prone previous adventures and jabs about her ability to use the toilet made her roll her eyes as she gave a cursory inspection of the room for the audience and continued to the closet beside the employee bathroom. She had legitimately never seen so many diapers in her entire life, unopened packages of diapers and training pants stacked on the floor below the bottom shelf, the bottom shelf designated for the largest size baby diapers and getting smaller as the shelves went up. BoneFairy: There’s the closet you’ve been looking for! BoneFairy: We promise to all look away while you change. She shut the closet door and sighed, “Look, man, I know you think you’re hilarious or whatever, but it’s kind of sad that you think it’s funny to belittle someone for something as lame as accidentally peeing her pants because she was scared.” she explained. BoneFairy: You’re right, babies like you can’t help that kind of thing, I’m sorry. She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, this is all just normal daycare stuff, nothing crazy or weird, so we’re gonna see if we can’t find that office.” she explained. SnuggleCorn: Movement in the playroom. She read the comment and was mildly alarmed at the news that something had triggered the camera in the playroom, but the name of the user was what sent a chill down her spine, someone was using her name from her AB account and sure, it might just be coincidence, but what if all the teasing about her needing a diaper was really subtly hinting at the knowledge of what she really was and had done in the past. Staying silent, she checked the camera on the tablet on her wrist, and couldn’t see anything at first, and then she noticed that the chunky little plastic chair that had been on its back near the art table was now upright and pushed in neatly. “Okay, that’s not good.” she said, heading out to the playroom to shine her light around. “Hello?!” she called out, “If anyone is here, please show yourself or let me know that you’re here in some way!” she requested. Silence filled the room and nothing moved as she continued to pan her light around, stopping on the overflowing toybox when tinny music began to emanate from within the box, muffled by all the toys on top of whatever was making the music. Her heart was racing as she approached the box, a purple stuffed rabbit on top of the pile staring vacantly at her with its hard plastic eyes. She shook her head and stopped, “No, I need to find the office.” she told herself as she turned away from the box, noting that the music stopped playing once she began to walk away. Beyond the playroom and the hallway she’d previously explored was an area behind an accordion door that was partially open, the room on the other side lined with cribs on the wall to her left and little cots with pillows and blankets on them to her right. “Okay, so this is the nap time room it seems.” she said, her light casting eerie barred shadows on the wall behind the cribs as she scanned the row and swung her light to the other side to look at the cots and the foam mats beneath them in case the kids rolled off them in their sleep. At the opposite end of the room was a closed door that had to be the office, and she found herself blindly hurrying toward it when she tripped over something and fell flat on her face on the thick foam padding she hadn’t realized extended out into the walkway creating a barrier of sorts to separate the adult traveling area and the children’s traveling area. She’d bit her tongue when she fell, and it took everything in her not to cry at how badly she’d hurt herself, but she soldiered on, getting up on her hands and knees and then to her knees and then fully upright on the squishy floor. SnuggleCorn: Careful, Ouija BoneFairy: Maybe stick to crawling? She seethed as she checked the floor for more hazards and continued on toward the door, leaving the section of padding for the normal carpeted floor as she neared the door and quickly placed her hand on the knob to open it, finding it motionless no matter which way she turned it, “Docked.” she said, blushing furiously at how stupid and infantile she sounded because of her injured tongue. BoneFairy: What was that, sweetie? Devil’s_Plaything: Knock it off, she fell, leave her alone! Ouija felt a swell of littleness at her biggest supporter rushing to her defense, her tongue injury keeping her from doing so herself without further embarrassing herself, and found herself wishing she could take a break to tend to her aching tongue and maybe find a pacifier to suck on to get herself calmed down and back to center, but she was live and the show had to go on regardless. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 to challenge Ouija to “spend five minutes in one of the cribs” If she hadn’t already done so, she would’ve bitten her tongue to keep from laying into whoever was behind this person that clearly knew of her previous persona and wanted to humiliate her in her current one. BoneFairy has donated $500 to challenge Ouija to: “drink a bottle from the fridge” The pain of biting her tongue combined with the shock of falling, being protected from her bullies by DP, and now these humiliating challenges was too much for her to handle all at once, and she felt her bottom lip start to tremble as her vision blurred with hot tears, “Why are you doing this?” she whimpered, “You’re ruining everything!” she shouted, stomping her foot as she looked into the camera as though she were looking only at her two antagonists. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 to challenge Ouija to: “change into a diaper” BoneFairy has donated $1000 to challenge Ouija to: “give up pretending to be an adult and accept that she’s just a stupid baby” She’d reached her breaking point with that, and cut her feed as she howled in frustration, throwing her camera onto the padded floor and ripping the headset camera from her head to do the same with it before she sat down on the padded floor and cried. ********** She pouted as she stared at the donation messages, she’d never gotten more than a few hundred dollars in her previous streams, challenges to get into closets or lay on a bed or gurney were easy money, but between SnuggleCorn and Bonefairy, she’d amassed ten times what she normally took in, but in order to collect, she had to humiliate herself. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done something degrading for views before, she’d livestreamed an enema and release into her diaper for a few hundred dollars back when she’d been SnuggleCorn, but she was trying to be something else now, trying to be legitimate in the realm of urban exploration and not some kind of whore for viewers, a clickbait abusing little girl that would do anything for money. She sighed heavily and looked around for her cameras, finding and reapplying her headset camera once she’d managed to remove all traces of the fact that she’d just spent the last five minutes crying and feeling sorry for herself after throwing a tantrum at being picked on. Crawling and stretching beneath one of the cribs, she retrieved her handheld camera and got back to her feet and took a deep breath before turning her stream back on. “Are we back?” she asked, noting the steep decline in viewer numbers, “Technical difficulties are a bitch, man!” she joked, “Umm, not sure if those donations are still valid or not.” she said, testing the waters to see if either of her bullies were still watching. BoneFairy: Mine are SnuggleCorn: Ditto Her stomach lurched as she softly nodded and sighed, “Alright then, so, what, I have to go get a bottle from the fridge and drink it, put on a diaper, get into one of the cribs for five minutes, and,” she gritted her teeth, “stop pretending to be an adult and accept that I’m a stupid baby?” she asked. Her bullies responded in the affirmative along with a few dozen teasing comments. Shuffling back to the break room, she went to the fridge and opened it, scanning the bottles for one that looked the least gross. BoneFairy: The pink one She looked and saw the bottle, a pink lamb on the side of it, the name on the strip of tape reading “Marcy”. Picking up the bottle, she could see that it probably contained milk, given the white liquid inside, but she hoped it was only regular milk and not breast milk, the latter somehow seeming worse despite both obviously being spoiled by this point. Bottle in hand, she trudged to the diaper closet, “And who will I be wearing tonight?” she joked. SnuggleCorn: Sesame Street Pampers, please Ouija looked on the bottom shelf, the largest sized diapers, and picked up one of the specified diapers, “I’m going to set you guys down while I change in the bathroom.” she said, removing her camera and setting her handheld down on the shelf in the closet with it before going into the bathroom to make use of the changing table in the back corner, stripping off her pants and pull-up before climbing onto the changing table, panicking when it creaked in protest at new weight after such a long period of peace, and quickly powdered herself and taped the diaper on, feeling herself smile as she crinkled softly when she wiggled her butt before getting down and putting her shoes back on to go back to her cameras. “Satisfied?” she asked, lifting the bottom of her hoodie to show off her diaper, turning around for the camera. SnuggleCorn: Adorable! BoneFairy: Doesn’t that seem like a much more appropriate outfit? Her audience had returned to its former glory since she’d come back, and hundreds of people agreed with BoneFairy, much to her dismay, but she put her headset camera back on and started to head back to the nap room to finish her challenges. BoneFairy: Crawl She sighed, putting her handheld camera and the bottle in her hoodie pocket as she got down on all fours and began to crawl down the hall, the soft, tinny music from the toybox playing once more as she entered the playroom and turned left to head to the nap room. She felt a flutter in her tummy as she listened to the crinkle of her diaper, crawling like a baby in a daycare center on her way to get into a crib and drink a baby bottle of some kind of milk, she hated that she was being forced to do these things on her non fetish related channel, but she absolutely loved the fact that she was living so many little fantasies all at once without having to admit anything about her kinks. Once she reached the nap room, she crawled to the furthest crib and stood up and climbed in, raising the side and securing it before pulling out the bottle and her handheld camera. SnuggleCorn: Can you attach your camera to the mobile so we can see you, sweetie? She blushed and checked the mobile, finding a spot that she could hook the strap on the camera to the mobile so it was pointed down at her and did so, “Look good?” she asked. Thumbs up and approving messages poured in. She nodded and lay down on the mattress, her diaper and the waterproof cover beneath the sheets crinkling as she moved and got comfortable, avoiding looking up at the camera above her as she sighed and brought the nipple of the bottle to her lips, guiding it in and giving a few tentative sucks on it to taste the liquid inside. She’d tasted spoiled milk before, accidentally made a bowl of cereal and taken a bite without realizing the milk had soured, but the milk in the bottle was perfect, cool on her throat, sweet to the taste like gingerbread, and she couldn’t help but smile as she gripped the bottle with both hands and closed her eyes as she nursed it in earnest. The tablet notified her that messages were coming in, but she didn’t care, she was content to allow herself this small moment of littleness and peace in a night rife with setbacks and disappointments, an escape from the pressure to put on a good show in the face of trolls, a way for her to accept some much needed little time after months of having to set everything up for the show. She opened her eyes slowly, looking up at the camera, a long dormant side of her bubbling up to the surface as she giggled bashfully and dribbled into her diaper as she nursed her bottle, this was something she could do without much effort, weeks of scouting this location and researching the history of it, breaking into the place and putting herself in danger, and in the end the thing that was going to net her more money and arguably more views, was something she’d wanted to incorporate into her streams to begin with, her baby side. She popped the nipple from her mouth and was about to bare her soul, to out herself as an adult baby, as a diaper lover, when she noticed the office door she’d tried earlier and found locked was wide open. “The office door is open!” she whispered, letting the bottle fall to the mattress and out between the rails to the floor with a dull thud as she got up onto her knees and peered through the darkness at the door. Fishing around in the bedding, she found her flashlight and shined it at the door, a desk and bookshelf beyond. Detaching the camera from the mobile, she held it up over the crib rails, “We’re going in!” she whispered. More notifications came through as she set the camera down on the mattress and tried to disengage the side of the crib so she could get out. Frustrated at her inability to successfully lower the side of the crib, she stood and put one leg over the railing, making sure her foot was nestled between the bars and on the mattress before putting her other leg over and dropping down to the floor, easily lowering the crib side from outside the crib and grabbing her camera, “If you guys are commenting right now, I’ll read them in a second, I just want to check out the office real quick.” she whispered. Her damp diaper rustled softly with each step she took toward the door, shining the light into the office and panning it back and forth to make sure no one was inside before she crossed the threshold. The office smelled like leather and books, or leather bound books, she supposed, it smelled more like a library than an office in a daycare was all she could think as she looked around. The desk was a rich Mahogany, a green mat on the surface of it with business cards and post-it notes stuck to it, a fancy golden pen holder sat beside the mat with a green shaded lamp near the corner. At the edge of the desk was a golden placard that read “Mary Gallagher” in what she assumed was the woman’s handwriting etched into the gold. The bookshelf behind the desk had child psychology books and parenting guides, but also had books about medical practices and other related things as well as general fiction peppered throughout. “Remember when you had to go to the principals office in school?” she asked her audience, “This is exactly like that.” she added, her cheeks heating up when she thought of being sent to the principal’s office dressed as she was now, bottomless save for a damp baby diaper. Devil’s_Plaything: You can take a break and change back into your regular clothes if you need to. BoneFairy: Nah, brah, I cashed in my challenge that she accepts she’s a stupid baby, so the diaper stays. Agreeing comments flooded in in support of BoneFairy. “I’m fine, DP.” she said, stopping herself from saying anything further. “Okay, if the cops and rescue workers came in and got all those people out then wouldn’t the secret room still be open?” she asked, voicing her inner thoughts. MidgetJesus: Unless the story was bullshit. She shook her head, “There were news reports about it, articles, all kinds of documentation.” she argued. BeanPole: I searched and found nothing Numerous people responded with similar claims. She shrugged, “Get good at searching then?” she said with a sneer. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 challenging Ouija to: “pull “Understanding Infants” from the shelf” Ouija stared at the tablet screen in disbelief and shone her light at the bookshelf, “How the fuck did you pick out one title from maybe a fraction of-” she started to ask before another alert interrupted her. SnuggleCorn has donated $1000 challenging Ouija to: “Be a good girl and do as she’s told” BoneFairy has donated $5000 challenging Ouija to: “perform I’m a little teapot for the camera and poop her diaper at the end” Devil’s_Plaything: Enough with all this humiliation crap, guys, go troll some rando fetish stream if you need to jerk off or something! Ouija’s head was swimming with thoughts of what the money on offer could do for her and set her camera down on the desk, taking a deep breath with her eyes closed before she opened them and smiled, waving at the camera with one hand as her thumb went into her mouth with the other, “Hihi guys!” she squealed excitedly, finally allowing herself to share an aspect of her true personality with her audience, “Ouija here with a little intermission dance performance!” she exclaimed, bouncing excitedly where she stood and giggling behind her thumb. Her viewership numbers dropped by the tens, then dozens, then hundreds as she readied herself for her performance. “I’m a little teapot, short and stout!” she chirped, her hands on her hips as she wiggled her bottom and giggled at the soft rustle of her diaper, “Here is my handle and here is my spout!” she continued, lifting and repositioning one arm for the handle of the teapot and raising the other to be a spout. The mass exodus stopped when her audience had dwindled to two hundred, the lowest she’d had since her first live exploration back when she was an unknown internetainer. “When I get all steamed up, hear me shout!” she burbled, making a pretend grumpy face, “Tip me over and pour me out!” she exclaimed, bending to the side to pour her spout out before turning around and lifting her hoodie to show off her diaper as she squatted down and began to push down on her bowels, grunting softly and passing a bit of gas before she managed to create a nice lump in the seat of her diaper, turning around and putting her thumb back into her mouth as she rose back up and toddled to the camera to retrieve it, “Was dat a good dance?” she asked her audience. Devil’s_Plaything: I thought you were better than all those fake as attention whores SnuggleCorn: Don’t listen to the haters, baby, you did wonderful! BoneFairy: Not even a moment of hesitation, sad The minuscule audience and the flood of judgmental comments sobered her up quickly, the smell filling the room making her acutely aware of the reality of her situation. She wanted to argue, to play it all off as a joke, but who would hear her now? Instead, she sniffled softly and sucked her thumb, hating herself for ruining everything she’d built. BoneFairy: Looks like we’re done here, Happy Halloween, you pathetic fucking baby! Devil’s_Plaything: You disgust me, kill yourself With nothing but a blubbering little girl in a messy diaper to watch, the remaining viewers dropped off the stream, leaving only one. SnuggleCorn: You really should pull that book, sweetie Numb, Ouija walked over to the bookshelf and checked the chat for the book title, finding the book on the highest shelf, “It’s too high.” she whined. SnuggleCorn: Push the chair over and stand on it, baby She nodded softly and pulled her thumb from her mouth to pull the chair from the desk and position it in front of the bookshelf for her to climb up onto it and pull the book in question, a loud chunk making her jump and almost fall off the chair before she quickly squatted down and held the back of the chair for balance as she watched the bookshelf move forward a few inches before it slid to the side to reveal a door behind it. SnuggleCorn: Put the chair back and open the door, baby She got off the chair and put it back, her heart beating quickly as her hand gripped the doorknob and she gave it a turn, letting go of it as the door slowly opened and she shone her flashlight into the darkness beyond. SnuggleCorn: Three baby steps forward and you’re free, baby She furrowed her brow and started to step back. SnuggleCorn: Is it the dark that scares you? She shook her head, “What’s in the dark.” she said softly. SnuggleCorn dropped from the chat and her tablet went dark as her flashlight began to flicker, making her smack it frantically as she began to panic. “All you had to do” a deep voice suddenly said from the darkness beyond the doorway she’d just opened, “was accept my offers to be your Daddy.” the voice said as her flashlight went dark. In the pitch black, she turned to run, the corner of the desk hitting her hip and sending her tumbling to the floor as her panicked breathing came out in shrill wheezes as she looked into the darkness for a sign of the person that had spoken to her. “I sent you clothes and diapers and toys and lavished you with affection, and what do you do?” the voice asked, “You abandon your true self and put yourself in danger and pretend like SnuggleCorn never existed, didn’t you, Alyssa?” it asked. Her blood ran cold when she heard her real name spoken. “Yes, sweetie, I know who you really are.” the voice said, a malicious smile laced in each word, “You did such a good job of hiding all your personal information, except for one eensy weensy little detail.” it said, “Do you remember when you used to do your show on your playmat?” the voice asked. She’d stopped listening, rubbing the pain in her hip as she tried to get up only to have the back of her neck grabbed by someone she couldn’t see and forced against the wall of the office suddenly, knocking the wind out of her as she felt her legs give out and whimpered as she remained upright by the sheer strength of the person behind her, his other hand snaking around her waist to hold her, his hot breath in her ear. “In the background, you had a picture on your nightstand, do you remember that?” he asked. She started to cry as a choked wheeze escaped her as she tried to catch her breath. “It was you and your parents at your high school graduation.” he told her, “I know, you’re probably struggling to think of any possible way that could’ve given away anything about your identity, right?” he asked. She was seeing spots now and teetering on the brink of consciousness. “Alyssa Sharpe, class of 2020.” he said, “It took a lot of work, but I managed to clean up the screen caps I took to get your name and then when searched that and found your yearbook online, I knew I had you.” he explained, lifting her into his arms and cradling her as she slipped in and out of consciousness. “Why?” she managed to wheeze. He was chuckling softly, a brittle sounding noise that sent a chill down her spine, “Because you need a Daddy, little one.” he told her, “You’re far too little to be able to take care of yourself, tonight proved that much.” he said. She could feel that they were moving and struggled weakly in his strong arms. “Now now,” he calmly chided, patting her bottom softly, “baby is just fussy because she needs a change and a nap.” he told her as he shifted her to close the door behind the bookshelf as he carried her through it, “Once we have you all sorted out, we can begin your training.” he said, his greasy skin and prickly stubble against her forehead, his reeking breath filling her nostrils as he kissed her. “They’ll know I was here and come looking for me.” she said. The brittle chuckle returned, “Everyone abandoned your pathetic little stream, baby.” he said, “And while you’re napping, I’ll be scrubbing Ouija_Look_At_That from every platform, just like she never existed.” he told her. “Besides, this place hasn’t been relevant since the mall closed down.” he explained, “My mom owned the daycare back in the day, god was she a mean old bitch.” he bitterly spat, “But when she died she left it to me, a moldy old daycare center in a crumbling old abandoned mall, on brand, honestly.” he said. “Anyway, everything that brought you here was me laying a trail of breadcrumbs for you, BoneFairy and SnuggleCorn goading you, the pink bottle you were supposed to finish having a sneaky little dose of muscle relaxers that are probably kicking in fully now, and of course all that money you just couldn't pass up, so once that’s all gone and you’re gone, nobody’s gonna miss you, just another missing female in a sea of reckless and ignorant females that don't take any precautions to keep themselves safe." he added. She was panicking and crying as he carried her through the darkness, “Please, I haven’t seen you, you don’t have to-” she started to plead, her words evaporating as the thick bulb of a pacifier filled her mouth, too big to be comfortable, her jaw popping as it nearly choked her going in. “Lesson one, baby cannot speak.” he told her. “You’ll see Daddy plenty after your nap, but the dark is good for this situation, keeps you disoriented and malleable so you don’t act up and get hurt.” he explained. She whimpered, the pain in her jaw worsening every second the pacifier remained in place, her hands being slapped roughly when she tried to grab for it. He sighed, “I know you don’t like spankings, so I’d advise you not do anything more to earn one.” he warned. She felt herself being set down on her back on a cushioned surface and felt alone in the darkness when he stepped away “You never should’ve ghosted me.” he said, his hands suddenly ripping the tapes of her diaper, “I understand how scared you must’ve been to give yourself to me without getting to know me first, females are often quite skittish around dominant males.” he explained, “But you know what a little baby you are and how badly a little baby needs a strong Daddy.” he continued as he wiped her thoroughly, his thick fingers toying with her body in ways that would make her scream and vomit if she were able to, the smell of powder filled her nostrils and she felt her legs effortlessly lifted along with her bottom as a much thicker diaper was slid beneath her. She was hyperventilating, getting ready to pass out, or die, she hoped, just so she wouldn’t have to endure being this sick bastard’s captive any longer than she had been already. “In time you’ll learn that Daddy is all you need.” he told her as he taped her new diaper snugly onto her, then repeated the process four more times, “You won’t need to worry about talking or walking or feeding yourself or even going to the bathroom because Daddy will have all of that taken care of for you so you can just be your true self,” he said as he lifted her up and held her like a baby once more, “Daddy’s perfect little SnuggleCorn forever and always.” he whispered into her ear. The bulk of so many diapers kept her legs spread wide, rendering them uncoordinated even if she weren’t weak and disoriented and on the verge of passing out and merely remained still and silent as she was set down in what she assumed was a crib once she felt the mattress beneath her and heard the side come up and lock in place. “If you’re a good girl and take a nap without any naughtiness, Daddy will give you a special treat when you wake up.” he whispered, his thick fingers stroking her hair as she shuddered and recoiled to the other end of the crib. His hollow chuckling came around once more, “I wasn’t sure what the best part of having you would be,” he began, “I thought just having the baby I’d always dreamed of having would be it, but now I can tell that reminding you of who you truly are and returning you to your true baby self is going to be my favorite part.” he said. She whimpered and cried softly into her pacifier. “The sex might just top it though.” he added, chuckling to himself as his footsteps retreated into the darkness. Without being able to see, she was helpless and accepted that she’d have to endure some awful things before an opportunity to escape presented itself, but she really didn’t see any outcome that didn’t benefit her, either she’d escape and kill him or reach the police and send him to jail for what he’d done to her, or she’d anger him and end up dead, either way she’d be free sooner rather than later. The End Happy Halloween!

Hi everyone! I am back from my writing slumbers and have a story that I had a dream about the other day that had somehow turned into 100+ pages. Please forgive me for not writing actively on my other stories... I have a bad habit of writing for stories and then pausing as I actively write for another. Hopefully this story doesn't put me in the writer's time out corner🪑😇 This is definitely a 'slow burn' story that sets the stage for the rest of the book and the payout may just be worth it, you'll just have to find out for yourself. *cue the evil laughter behind computer monitor* I hope you enjoy my story of warlocks, creatures and diapers as much as I have writing it and I love hearing theories and comments along the way in posting. Enjoy!💖 The Synopsis No One Asked For[but I wrote it anyways]: Wren Smith gets accepted into a 4 year international college exchange program that she had always dreamed of her whole human existence called Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures located in the country of Centaurus. In her journey to a completely different world of warlocks, werewolves and vampires, she meets Nate Seastone who has unusual relationship goals, a psychopathic ex and a dark past. Things take a sinister twist as she navigates being a human in a mostly all creature and warlock school as she unlocks secrets to sinister things she didn't ask to discover between the school's history and her kind. Warnings: Dark nature content[not sure how to word that], bullying and detailed sexual scenes[smut] Does contain in later chapters: Diapers, CGL relationship, ABDL, BDSM, spanking Book of Warlocks, Creatures & Diapers : Vol I PRELUDE It’s incredulous to think that for a good few centuries, the rest of the world didn’t know the United Lands existed. The continent of Centureon, comprised of the countries of Centaurus and Rune, were stumbled upon in 1492 by Christopher Columbus, yet never spoken about in human history books because a historical warlock known as Theadore Stonewall II found him, erased his memory and sent him, his crew and his boat to North America instead. It wasn’t until the next century when people began migrating from Europe to America that Centureon lost its anonymity the warlocks and creatures wanted to keep as long as possible, yet it was inevitable that a country with millions of creatures and beautiful lands would be found eventually. From the dawn of time, warlocks, witches and creatures had always been mistreated, murdered and misunderstood that the old warlocks and creatures knew if word got out to the human race, their existence may be compromised. Little did they know, it was bound to happen that the human race would find them and try to make them close to extinct. Warlocks and creatures already lived amongst the human race all over the world, but the countries of Centureon knew about the horror stories and spread of misinformation about their kind that made the human race fear them. It was better, to the Centaurus and Rune countries, to hide for as long as they could and keep the peace within their own lands. As time went on and the United Nations and other countries found out about Rune and Centaurus, both countries were kept top secret in all countries. The United Nations wanted to hide the creatures that inhabited the lands as they thought revealing them would create mass panic and threaten the human race as it was. Warlocks and creatures didn’t want to fight, they asked for peace multiple times and the United Nations was ignorant to the possibility of creatures, witches and warlocks living peacefully among humans. Yet… these creatures already lived among them, much to the human race’s fears of inability to cohabitate that had little to no evidence to support. As the humans found out creatures were living amongst them, many altered, misinformed and over dramatized stories in newspapers released about witches, werewolves, vampire killings and abductions. These fictionally based stories spread like wildfire around the United States of America in the 1600’s and the United Nations came together and agreed that if these newfound ‘creatures’ survived any further they could threaten the human race’s very existence. Widespread panic circulated around to other countries and the whole world began fearing creatures that supposedly could be humans next door neighbors one day. The decisions were based on ignorance, fears and prejudice as the United Nations decided to invade Centaurus and Rune in 1702, historically termed in Centureon the Human Invasions of 1702, without warning, terrorizing the continent with ships docking and pillaging of its lands. At this time, the human race was much larger than all the warlocks and creatures combined. The only thing that made sense for most creatures was too either migrate or protect the land from the sudden killing, raping and torment of its innocent civilians. Many of Centaurus and Rune’s inhabitants decided to flee the country. This caused the Great Migration of Creatures in 1702 where millions of witches, warlocks and creatures as they fled the countries to live in hiding all over the world as Rune was put close to extinction within a few years. Although they had warlocks, witches and creatures, Centaurus and Rune were both peaceful lands that practiced magic to protect and help others, not to hurt as they were attempting to show the human race they should not be feared. There were always dark blood warlocks and witches who were of the evil kind, but few and far between that when armies of human troops came in with muskets, rifles, canons and unknown weapons to Centaurus and Rune, the native creatures to the lands had never seen such weapons, let alone know what they did until they were wounded or killed. Due to Centaurus’s large warlock and witch demographics, they were able to protect most of Centaurus in the 1700’s. Centaurus lost a tenth of their population and lands but quickly reclaimed their lands. Rune, however, could not protect itself as the population of warlocks was low, the magical creatures who were there were a majority of peacemakers or healers. When they attempted to ask for peace, it was quickly denied to their dismay as whole towns and villages were shocked by the merciless invaders. Villages and towns across Rune were pillaged, raped and burned down over a stretch of a few weeks time. Innocent civilians and their children were burned on stakes or hanged and those spared from the mass murdering of Rune’s population were kidnapped and put into labor camps. The rest of it’s demographics were harmless creatures without magical abilities that were slaughtered without reason. A good two-thirds of Rune’s creatures were killed from the invasion that silently spread across the country. More troops of the British and United States came over to Rune and terrorized the creatures on it’s soil along with the few witches and warlocks that remained after many years of fighting. Parts of Rune were colonized in the 1710’s by the British until the United Lands armies grew in the larger country of Centaurus and reclaimed the land with their most powerful warlocks, witches and creatures protecting Rune. After years of hearing of the pillaging, terrorizing and mass murders of Rune with two-thirds of the population either migrating or being slain, Centaurus decided to stop protecting without harming the invaders and go on the defensive to push the invaders out of their Lands. The first World War, that was unknown to most of the human race, started and ended in 1713 when the United Lands decide to fight back from Rune reclaiming what was left of its lands. In Centaurus history books, there was a distinct shift in the war and who was winning when the most powerful Centaurus and Rune warlocks and witches came together to create the Magistrate’s Army. They fought back in large numbers and reclaimed what was theirs within months of combat with the human race. Rumors got out about a group of witches and warlocks comprised of both white and dark blood magic descent that were stronger than any other type of magical beings coming together to end the suffering of the United Lands. It was unheard of for white and dark blood witches and warlocks to work together, yet this special circumstance created an alliance that warlocks and witches all over the continent talked about for centuries. The UN troops began retreating as they realized quickly that Magistrate Army was much stronger than any weapon possessed in the 1700’s. The armies couldn’t even kill a witch or warlock without putting them on the stake and burning them. News got back to the United Nations as the Magistrate Army became tremendously powerful and the US army along with the British armies were sent back home in small quantities of survivors with gruesome stories of watching warlocks, witches and creatures mercilessly terrorizing soldiers, bending swords and stopping bullets, pikes and cannon balls mid-air. The horror stories of witches and warlocks performing full moon rituals on soldiers were spread rampant along with other horrors following the war with the warlocks and creatures. The human race learning that although small in numbers, the United Lands showed they were a force to not be meddled with ever again. In 1730’s, years after the war ended, Magistrate Gildroy III the Great made a peace treaty with the United Nations and the United Lands. The United Lands agreed that migration to or from Centaurus or Rune was forbidden. Both groups agreed to keep Centaurus and Rune separated from the human race. Gildroy was able to keep sailors and migrators away from the country with his fleet of mermen and army of warlocks who protected the United Lands. The United Nations and surrounding countries were able to hide creatures for a few years from the human race, stating that newspapers of werewolf, vampires and witches were made-up stories. Although both the United Lands and United Nations tried to hide Centaurus and Rune, it was not possible anymore to keep hidden a whole country that spanned half the Atlantic ocean as a secret to the human race. After many sightings of ‘aliens’, lost ships in the Bermuda Triangle, witch trials, books written about witches and wizards, newspaper articles, police cases, tales of vampires or werewolves and other incidences in the early 1800’s the countries of Rune and Centaurus were rediscovered by the human race in newspapers around the world. The world became a huge panic where allover people were afraid from the misinformation about vampires, witches, mermen, werewolves and other creatures. The general population did not want anything to do with these creatures or to even visit Centureon in the 1800’s. The creatures that had migrated to the US and other countries who did decide to reveal themselves were segregated, taken into slavery, locked up in prisons, hung, experimented on, abducted or murdered. The whole response to any creature or warlock was of pure anger and hatred that caused a huge rift between the human race and creatures from Rune and Centaurus. Up until 1853, immigration to and from Centureon was banned for creatures and humans. During this time, millions of creatures and warlocks that had already migrated found home to many parts of North America, Asia, South America and Europe as they lived in hiding. From those in hiding, it was discovered in the mid-1800’s that so many creatures and warlocks had carried children with humans. Half-humans were at high risk as not only did the human race fear or hate them, but so did creatures. Migration was finally allowed after so many hate crimes were made against creatures or half-humans and the United States and other countries found there weren’t only a few, but millions of creatures already living amongst them that wanted to visit back home or move back to Centaurus or Rune. Little did these countries know, these creatures inhabited the world for thousands of years amongst the human race. This movement of human race acceptance was called the Creature Awakening where humans finally acknowledged the creature race and began to start accepting creatures into their cultures. Although there was still a long road ahead in progression of views and stifling racism, this was a huge push forward in peace between races. By the early 1900’s after migration to and from the United Lands was allowed in most countries, World War 1 happened and the United Nations grew a relationship with the United Lands, enlisting the Magistrate’s Army into the war. In every war following, the United Nations and United Lands worked together and slowly built trust between the two once opposing forces. Many years passed and from millions of mixings of creatures, warlocks and humans, hatred between the human race and creatures or warlocks had calmed down quite a bit, yet the racism never went away fully as it was still taught in most continents. By the end of the 1900s and early 2000’s, many programs were instated to mix the cultures of humans, creatures and warlocks. Although things have calmed down between the races, there is still a large mountain to climb in racism between creatures and humans. As time has gone on, the pendulum of hatred has swung more for the hatred of the human race, as they had almost made Rune extinct of it’s creatures and endangered trolls, pegasai, dwarfs and it’s rare magical creatures with one invasion in the 1700’s that had almost wiped out the creatures of Rune’s existence entirely. Chapter 1: Warlocks, Creatures and Humans, Oh My! Wren’s moss green eyes looked out the airplane window to the beautiful hills, valleys and mountains of Loch Valley, Centaurus of the United Lands. Her curious eyes grazed over the distant hills and valleys where she could see a flight of witches and warlocks gliding above the trees together in a pack. Wren smiled in awe and wonder, always wishing since a little girl that she could fly like a witch. She always, admittedly, envied her neighbor down the street who was half witch and had flying lessons with her dad. She ended up in a tree her first flight but Wren would have paid anyone in the world to be just like her neighbor, even if she’d ended up in a tree or with a broken arm. She frowned and looked back down to her history book of Centaurus, knowing that would never be her fate. All she ever wished growing up was to be some sort of creature, whether that had been a mermaid, witch, dwarf, gollum, fairy, vampire or even a troll. Wren just wanted to be something that wasn’t a human. Gross. That was probably the worst race to be in this day and age. As she read her history book, she couldn’t imagine how it was like as a creature to feel such fear of being kidnapped or killed for being something that’s not human. There are hundred of documented real life horror stories in America, where Wren was born, about witch trials, murders of full werewolf or vampire families, abductions and experiments on creatures. That’s only one country and the stories across the world are equally as volatile and despicable. Luckily, those things didn’t happen anymore, at least not often. There’s always some Ted Bundy who has a weird thing for creatures or witches unfortunately. Also, creatures aren’t victims, they’ve killed humans too. However, the millions of creatures and warlocks slaughtered for pure racism of creatures will always supersede the current day issues. Millions were killed at the hands of the human race in 1702 in genocide by the US and British army human invasions. Millions. Wren was disgusted by that thought alone and that her ancestors could do such things to innocent creatures. To say she hated her ancestors was an understatement at this point after traveling 10 hours on the plane and rereading the dark history of Centaurus and Rune inflicted by the human race. Wren could see why creatures and warlock have been known to be rude to humans. Lucky for Wren Smith, she decided to do an international exchange program for 4 years at Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures. Maybe not so lucky... yet Wren’s deep desires to be close to warlocks and creatures ran so strong she’d put aside everything to be where she felt she belonged. Ever since Wren was a young girl, she knew that Idaho, United States was not where she belonged. It was true as everyone presumed of Idaho: all we have is cornfields and potatoes out there! Wren thought. She absolutely despised everything there and found herself bored 9 times out of 10. The one fun thing was having a neighborhood friend who was part witch. Her name was Jade who Wren went to school with. They eventually blossomed into best friends throughout the years until their friendship abruptly ended when Jade and her parents moved to Glades, Rune when the girls turned 12. Wren remembers crying for almost a month straight when Jade moved and as dramatic as that sounded, losing your best friend was a big deal as a kid. It felt like the end of the world to Wren and she had close to no friends after Jade left. Wren was always the ‘weird girl’ who had a ‘witch friend’ and Wren knew the small-minded classmates would never understand her the way Jade did. The day she moved, Wren remembered writing in her diary, “When I turn 18, I’m moving the HELL out of Idaho and going to Centaurus! Idaho can kiss my ass!!” If you’re wondering, yes Wren did, in fact, write those curse words when she was 12 and luckily her parents never read her diary… or at least she thought they didn’t. “Flight attendants, prepare for landing.” The pilot stated to the passengers and attendants. Wren sighed as she closed her book, stowing it away in her backpack. She looked to her right where a pair of eyes were glancing at Wren and she met them. A part werewolf part human woman's dark brown eyes were looking at her. Wren smiled politely to her as the woman looked forward with a small huff in annoyance. Creatures really hate humans still, huh? She was half human, where does she feel the right to judge! Wren thought to herself and frowned, looking back out the window. It was weird leaving home, the United States. Wren had never left the US, let alone to a country that hates the human race, even more so Americans. Wren didn’t think most countries liked Americans to begin with, let alone human Americans to further complicate things for her. In Centaurus, it’s a known fact humans are more susceptible to hate crimes and harassment. Creatures don’t like humans and humans don’t like creatures. That’s been a known conflict since the beginning of time. Wren knew that just maybe she was the weird human that liked creatures and wanted to be one. The best person Wren ever knew was a witch, after all. She saved Wren’s life once and Wren would never forget that day. When Wren was 11 about to turn 12, the girls were playing on the bridge in the forest near their houses. Wren jumped on the railing of the bridge and stuck her arms out, yelling, “Maybe I can fly like you Jade!” Jade’s dark brown eyes looked concerned as she tugged on the hem of Wren’s blue jeans, “Don’t be stupid, get down from there!” “I just want to be a witch like you one day, Jade. Maybe I can if I try! Don’t you remember that book we read about the girl who didn’t know she was a witch and found out by falling? Maybe that’s me!” Wren said, walking one foot in front of the other on the railing as she swayed, almost falling to the side with the river below. “Wren! Stop it! You’re scaring me and I want to have an ALIVE best friend, not a DEAD best friend!!”Jade said frantically on the bridge below Wren. “I’m going to tell on you if you don’t come down!” She stomped her foot bossily while crossing her arms. Wren smiled, knowing she was the brave, bold but stupid friend in that moment. She stood there, looking behind her one last time before deciding to get down. As she began lowering her foot, Wren’s heel somehow caught the nail of the bridges railing and it caused her balance to falter. She felt myself quickly lose gravity as her whole body fell backwards and Jade screamed, “WREN!!!” Her stomach tickled as she fell through the air. She closed her eyes as she awaited the cold water, yet time stood still and she felt nothing. Did I die? She thought as she opened her eyes and was levitating up and over to where the trees and grass was near the side of the river. She toppled onto the ground and rolled a few times. Wren got up, dusting off the dirt from her sweatshirt as Jade ran over and hugged her. “You dummy!! You almost died!” Jade said as she hugged Wren hard. “Thanks for saving me Jade, I’m so sorry!” Wren said, feeling a few tears go down her face from the stupid thing she almost did. Jade blinked at Wren as she pulled back and shook her head, “I, uh, didn’t do anything Wren.” She said, looking humbly down. Wren winked at her, “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” Jade was quiet about her magic abilities. Her parents didn’t want anyone in their school or neighborhood to know she was a witch. Most creatures kids from Centureon were bullied and that was the main reason her family kept it hidden. It was a secret Wren only knew about because Jade flew into her tree one evening with a yelp and that was the first time Wren and Jade met when her dad ran over to our house and apologized for Jade climbing on Wren’s backyard tree to Wren’s parents. Little did her dad know that Wren was on the second floor bedroom and was looking outside when Jade struck the tree near her bedroom. It looked like it hurt, that was for sure. Wren still didn’t know to this day who hurt worse that day, Jade or the tree. The airplane glided down as Wren gasped in awe at the city below of Aeradon, Dragonstone in Centaurus. She had only read in books about how beautiful the city was with it’s ancient skyscraper castles on hills that overlooked hundreds of villages, rivers and the water to the side of the city. Wren was sad to not see dragons circling the castles like in the childhood books she read as a kid but the beauty was enough to take her breath away. The plane passed over Dragonstone’s other outskirt villages further to the edge of where the cliffs met the sea. She felt the plane hit the ground as Wren smiled, getting giddy with excitement of the new life she had just began. Wren had been waiting for her entire human life to be in Dragonstone, Centaurus, let alone to be accepted to a school in Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures for a 4 year international exchange program. She frowned, remembering how sad her mom got when Wren told her. Her mom didn’t look at her and just went into her parent’s bedroom as Wren’s dad looked at her in the eyes and said, “I thought you were going to Harvard, you got accepted and the chance that people would die to have! I can’t believe you’re throwing away your life like this.” He said in disappointment, shaking his head and sighing. “Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures is a much more prestigious acceptance dad. Only 4 foreign exchange students are accepted per year and they hardly ever accept a full-blood human exchange student!” Wren grumbled, crossing her arms and shaking her head, annoyed with her parents and they’re obvious disappointment. Can’t they let her have one happy moment?! “Dragonstone is a dangerous place for humans, Guinevere. You never listen to me or your mother.” Wren knew it was serious disappointment when her dad said her real name that she hated hearing. Guinevere Smith. Ugh, she hated that name, reasons why she went by Wren. Her classmates growing up couldn’t say her full name so they called her Gwen, which Wren hated even more. That’s when she read a kids book in elementary school with a witch named Wren. That’s when she told her classmates and teachers that she went by Wren. Ever since then, Guinevere had been Wren, although her parents didn’t jump on board with the name change until a few years later. Now they only used her full name when she was in trouble. Her dad stood, not having any more of this conversation. Wren’s parents and her never saw eye to eye on things like this. They always warned her of creatures and magical beings, stating that they were malicious and hated humans. They never knew Wren’s best friend growing up was a witch, and she didn’t think she’d ever tell them. The more they warned me growing up about Centaurus and Rune, the more Wren knew she had to visit it to see herself. For 18 years Wren grew more and more curious, just wanting to prove her parents wrong about creatures and warlocks. Her best friend and her dad were creatures and she would not allow a stigma decide her own opinions. Wren finally was able to stand after ten minutes of waiting for the passengers to file out of the plane. She began to gather her items from the overhead compartment. Unfortunately, Wren was short and small framed that it didn’t help when she reached for her suitcase, struggling to grasp it. She stood on her tippy toes and grunted as she grabbed her suitcase handle and pulled, the momentum of her pull swinging Wren to the left a bit as she accidentally nudged the person directly behind her. The person muttered, “Fucking rude humans.” “Um, sorry.” Wren looked back at the middle aged warlock man behind her who had a satin black cloak and a dark brown disheveled pointed hat on. She blinked back her awe of being near a warlock and walked forward to out of the plane through customs and baggage claim as she tried to shake off the odd exchange. “Guinevere Marie Smith, what’s your purpose here and how long is your stay?” The merman customs officer asked as his light sea blue eyes shifted to Wren’s eyes, studying in curiosity. Wren pulled out her file from her backpack that her international counselor told her to show to customs, “I’m an international exchange student for Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures and will be here for 4 years.” She said a touch boastfully, handing him her files. He looked them over with an annoyed glance and handed them back to her with her passport, waiving Wren away, “Next.” Wren shoved her file back into her backpack and grabbed her luggage, shaking off his rudeness as she walked between throngs of people. She tried not to glance at the different creatures of mermen, trolls, gollums, warlocks, witches, vampires, dwarves, fairies and werewolves that threaded through the area or gawk too long. A lot of people looked like humans or half-humans that walked past as she went to the outside to find the shuttle to the train. A hour passed filled with wrong turns and Wren finally found a train car that directly took her to Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures. She stowed her items away and sat as someone poked their head into the car, “Do you mind if I share a car with you? It’s kind of full everywhere else.” Wren nodded with a smile, meeting a set of light blue eyes that looked human. She was a bit relieved that she was human, given that all Wren’s other encounters were rude with anyone who wasn’t also human. That was becoming more apparent the more minutes she spent in Centaurus. As the girl was putting away her items overhead, another knock sounded and a large guy who had to duck into the car peaked in, “Can we join you? If there’s room, uh, of course.” His eyes were a light yellow and his skin was a slight tint of green with bumps over his arms. He was part troll from what Wren could tell but very polite with a thick Scottish accent. “Of course.” Wren tried to give a friendly nod to the seats in front of her as he ducked to get inside and helped the other human girl with her items overhead. A smaller fairy girl, about Wren’s height, with light glowing skin came inside behind him. She had light pink almost white, long wavy hair and quietly trotted behind the half troll guy as he helped her with her luggage storage too. He sat down on the farthest corner from Wren and the fairy girl sat next to Wren. A floral scent reached Wren’s nostrils and she smiled in nostalgia of going through gardening shops as a kid with her mother. There's an awkward silence in the train car until the half troll spoke, “My names Frederick Ploffploof. Half-troll if anyone’s wondering, first year and from Luss, Scotland. Nice to meet everyone.” He says with a deep voice and heavy accent, awkwardly looking between the three girls who are silent. He has a humor about him when he talks that Wren almost wants to giggle at but decided not to as she didn’t want to come across as a ‘fucking rude human’ again. The human girl across from Wren went next, “Hi, I’m Olivia Appleton, from Virginia, the States. First year, human.” The fairy girl spoke with a bubbly voice, “Hai hai! I’m Pixie Lightwood and I’m a fairy from Glowfield, Centaurus and second year.” A lot of fairies came from Glowfield or suburbs surrounding, Wren was going to guess that but didn’t want to say it or presume anything. Wren smiled, trying to be friendly and hopefully not weird by how giddy she was to meet others, especially who were creatures, “Wren Smith. First year, human unfortunately as well.” The group laughs as Wren spoke and she continued, “From Idaho, the States.” “Against most judgements cast against humans, I quite prefer them over witches any day.” Pixie said as she touched Wren’s arm in a friendly nudge and Wren looked down at the gentle touch that glistened after her hand left Wren’s skin. “Oops! I haven’t had that happen before besides in my community, I’m so sorry!” Pixie said, trying to wipe off the glisten and light glitter that was on Wren’s skin from her touch, yet, when she tried to wipe it off it caused even more glitter. Frederick rumbled in a laugh with Olivia as Wren tried dusting off the literal fairy dust, “It’s fine I got it! No worries.” Wren giggled with Pixie as she met her light pink and slightly yellow-green flecked eyes that glowed to Wren. She paused, “You said that doesn’t happen often?” “No, I mean, only to other fairies or pure people. If you're full human, that means I can trust you is all.” Pure? What did that mean? Wren thought. “I wouldn’t say I’m pure, maybe just dumb. Also, I’m for sure full human.” Wren says with a last giggle as she dusts off the glitter that doesn’t seem to go away. If she wasn’t human, she’d know for certain by this point in her life. She could not even count how many spells and potions she’s tried to cast in her life. Also, not to mention how many times she’s ran and jumped with a broomstick, only to face plant completely. If she were a fairy and could fly, Wren would have by now. She’s 100% human, which was unfortunate to Wren to say the least. Wren chalked it up to maybe that she was ‘pure’… whatever that meant. Olivia squeals from across from Wren, “Touch me next! I want to know!” “Me too!” Frederick rumbles as he sticks out his arm with Olivia and the group all laughs in the train car together. Pixie touches Olivia and Frederick and nothing happens. “Isn’t ‘purity’ like a virginity thing?” Frederick asks in his thick accent to Pixie. The train finally begins moving as it seems the train filled fully and students are walking in the hallways trying to find seats still. Wren blushes for a moment, hoping no one can see as she felt called out. Luckily, Pixie’s answer comes to her rescue. Pixie begins laughing loudly and shaking her head as her eyes are watery from laughing when she calms down, “No, purity is by-“ Someone open the car door and cuts Pixie off, “Excuse me, sorry to bother but-“ A very tall, handsome human-looking man with medium to long copper brown hair pushed back but falling carelessly to the side of his head enters the car. His sea blue eyes meet Wren’s and she almost drops her jaw and drools by how gorgeous he is. He was one of the most attractive men Wren had ever laid eyes on from his strong jawline down to his biceps and muscles carved through his black long sleeve shirt he war wearing. Why was Wren so suddenly flustered as he locked eyes with her? She had never felt so off-put by a simple question. Wren already assumed he was so far out of her league that she kept her mouth closed as his eyes left Wren’s and looked around the car, seeing it was full. Frederick took two seats easily and the other 3 seats were taken by the girls. Wren wished it was a six seat car to invite this mysterious man inside. Wren gulped, knowing that a beautiful fairy was next to her and another attractive girl sat across her way. Wren looked with a fleck of jealousy to Olivia who had light brown, long hair and beautiful blue eyes. In comparison, Wren had long dark brown, almost black hair and moss green eyes that she always felt she looked so plain and never anything special. She couldn’t help feeling like she was but a speck in the sea of women in that moment. She never even had a love interest before, yet for some reason this random beautiful man shows up and she was instantly into him. Never had she ever gotten so flustered by 6 words. God help her. “It looks like this car’s full, maybe next one.” He murmured to the person behind him in his slight Centaurus accent. He looked back over to the group and somehow his beautiful sea blue eyes fell to Wren instead of anyone else in the car, as if she were the only one inside it, “Sorry again.” He nodded to the rest of the group with a charming smile and closed the door. Wren blushed down at her hands, feeling dumb that she just stared at him without responding once, how could she be so stupid! That’s how Wren successfully doesn’t get a boyfriend. It wasn’t like she was looking to have one these next four years but she wouldn’t have been against having one if it were with someone as attractive as him. “Who was that fine piece of man?” Olivia blurted after he left and they all burst out laughing. “Looks can be deceiving, trolls are much better specimens of men just so you ladies know.” Frederick spoke and paused for a moment as he sighed, “Gentle giants as some would say.” He straightened out his shirts as they all laughed at his gentle giant comment. Pixie stopped laughing, the only second year among them, and said, “That’s Nate Seastone. I’m not sure if he’s single though, last year he was with one of the Sinister Twins which is, honestly, a huge red flag.” Olivia crossed her arms, “Bummer, he was hot.” Wren gulped, not saying anything as she now knew she wasn’t the only one who had a thing for him. “Who’s the ‘Sinister Twins’?” Wren asked, looking to Pixie. Pixie shook her head, blinking back a serious flicker in her eyes that Wren caught, looking down, “Sorry, I just don’t want to spread anything about them or gossip. They are just not good witches and I suggest steering clear of them. That’s all I’ll say.” An awkward silence took over the car as she said not good witches. Wasn’t it illegal to us magic to harm others? Wren thought to herself, hearing that Dragonstone kicked out people for that. She thought she was going to a safe school, not a we’ll-sweep-things-under-the-table type of school. Wren gulped, looking out the window as the train went over the edge of the cliffs that looked out to the sea. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder if she made the right decision going to Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures considering she was not, in fact, a warlock nor creature and was getting the impression humans really didn’t belong there.

Child’s Play A Story of Yayoi Yamamoto, Operative of SLA Industries by InkuHime (aka Incognito Himitsu) This is one of my favourite stories. I've done some rewriting on it since I first posted it years ago. This is an action adventure dark (grim dark?) science fiction story based on the TTRPG SLA Industries. There is a strong, central plot line that involves diapers, but it is not a conventional ABDL diaper story. Chapter 1 Here Comes the Rain Again A long, narrow truck pulled to a stop on the Lower Downtown raised walkway. The vehicle shifted back and forth as three men climbed out of the cab. Two were rather large, one husky, the other fat. The third was a thin man, covered from head to foot in leather. The one in leather was a Prop, a mercenary and killer for hire. He was known on the streets as ‘Bent for Leather’. They had stopped for the girl sitting on the edge of the walkway. Small, thin, covered by a dirty, plastic poncho against the ever-falling rain of Mort. It was hard to tell much about her, hunched over with her head resting on her chest as she was. Still, she looked young; the Skin Trade's biggest seller was youth. And if it turned out she was not young, well, pretty, still sold. And if not pretty… that was one of the things the Prop took care of. The fat man approached her first; he held a hypo-gun loaded with Bio-block in his chubby hand. It was a bold move, but it was dark, and the high, wet walkway was deserted. The girl did not even look up as he approached. She might have been already drugged out of her mind. So much the easier for them if that was the case. He was beginning to reach forward when the girl did something totally unexpected. She kicked back and rolled backwards off the walkway's side, dropping out of sight. The three men looked at each other, surprised, though it was difficult to tell with the Prop as his face was masked by leather strips. "Must've known what we was planning," the husky man said. "Chose death over getting caught." "Stupid little bitch," the fat man said. "Now we got to find another one to meet quota." He moved to the walkway's edge, looking down, expecting to see the girl's broken body forty meters below. A hand grabbed him around his ankle. A quick pull and he was falling, screaming all those forty meters to the ground. The other two had not seen what had happened; to them, it looked like the fat man had jumped. They stood there, trying to figure out why two people had just decided to throw themselves from the walkway. The muted rumble of a pair of fusion turbines made both men look upwards. Above them was a figure in a suit of Silverback armour. As the armoured angel tossed away a plastic poncho, the Prop understood. The girl had not jumped from the walkway, and it was very likely his fat companion had been pulled. That realization had him going for the pistols at his side. Before he could reach them, a knife—hurled with exo-armour-assisted strength—punched through his throat. Even as the Prop’s corpse hit the ground, the armoured figure alighted on the walkway and grabbed the husky man around the wrist. She hyperextended his elbow, twisted his wrist, and forced him onto his toes. He screamed in pain and then screamed louder as she jerked him around, flinging him over the side of the walkway and then holding him from a fall by his injured arm. There was something of a cat tormenting a small rodent in the actions. "Shut up," she snapped, giving him a shake. Her words and the agony cleared his head for a moment. Adrenaline flooded his body, chasing away the pain and giving him clarity. He knew he was in great danger and that his only chance of living rested in the hands of the small, armoured girl holding him. "That's good," she said as he stopped screaming. "Tell me, who you’re with?" "Slap and Tickle," he said, breathing hard, trying not to start screaming again. "And where are you operating?" "I can't tell you?" She let go of him, allowing him to fall for a moment before leaning forward and snatching him again by the wrist, bringing him to a painful stop. "You can." Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he had lost bladder control. He was close to passing out from the pain. "They'll kill me," he sobbed. "What makes you think that I won't?" "Down at the old Handara warehouse, Level Three. That's where we were supposed to bring this load. I swear that's all I know." "Thank you," she said and then released his hand. He screamed until he stopped. She did not even watch. "This is Operative Yamamoto; I need a Shiver team at Walkway One Fifty-Six, Sector 7B, Lower Downtown, immediately," she said into her helmet's microphone. As she spoke, she stepped over the dead Prop and walked to the truck. "Roger that Operative Yamamoto," the voice on the other end replied. "Expect a team to arrive in five minutes." "That's too long.” She pulled open the rear doors of the truck. "I need them here now." "I'm sorry, Operative Yamamoto," the operator on the other end said calmly and politely. "There are no teams closer to your location." Yayoi keyed her microphone off and made a rude noise before turning it back on and saying, "Understood." Her tone was despondent; she could not help it, not when looking into the truck. A metal bar ran the length of the roof. Plastic ties around their wrists and over that bar, twelve people, very young men and women, girls and boys, were hung like meat. Few were tall enough that their feet reached the rusty metal grate beneath them. All so sedated that they might as well be dead. The desire to move caused her heart to race. Always before, when she learned of some processing centre, she would arrive too late. The big players who knew the names and had the client lists would be gone. There was a mole somewhere, leaking information to the Skin Trade. There had to be. Someone was getting in the way of the investigation, maybe even slowing the response time. Five minutes felt too long. She wanted to go but would not leave the victims there, where anyone, or anything, could get at them. So she waited until the Shiver unit showed up, rolling onto the walkway in one of their APCs. She gave them a quick briefing on what had happened. Made sure they knew what to do. Satisfied that the victims were in good hands, Yayoi leapt from the walkway, slowing her fall with her armour’s turbines. She landed gently on the rain-soaked road below, not far from the two dead men. Nearby, hidden under a pile of garbage, was her SCAF bike. The armoured security plates slid back at her command, the engine roaring to life. She straddled the vehicle, gave it power, and roared out of the alleyway and onto the street. Once she got some speed, Yayoi activated the main turbine, lifting the bike into the air. The hydraulic system pulled the wheels into the main body, changing the motorcycle into a one-man helicopter. Speed was of the essence now. Any chance of getting her hands on someone important depended on how soon she could get there. If they knew she was coming--and had to know she was coming--they would be clearing out. Seconds. She believed that it always came down to seconds. She would arrive to hear the echoing of a door slamming somewhere, the smell of cigarette smoke still in the air. Those who might know something already clear. The opportunity to score a telling blow to the Skin Trade was always out of reach. Maybe it was already too late, but she had to try. Go Fast. Go Faster. This time, it might be different. If only she could go faster. Soon, she was dropping below the raised streets, speeding among the web of walkways and roads, nearly scraping the buildings as she went. Three levels under the so-called surface of Mort was not too deep. Not when it was possible—if suicidal—to travel down 285 levels. Still, it was deep enough for her. She hated Lower Downtown for so many reasons, only partly because that was where her prey lived and thrived. Ahead of her was the warehouse, an old, supposedly deserted building. It looked abandoned, but the Skin Trade did not survive by making their presence visible. The SCAF landed on the roof of the building, the turbines throwing up a cloud of grit and dirt. She jumped off the bike, moving quickly, just in case anyone started shooting at her, making her way to a doorway on the roof. As it was, there was no threat there. There was not much of a threat anywhere in the building. As before, Yayoi had arrived too late, perhaps by less than a minute. That was all it would take for the people in charge to scatter and hide, going deeper into the shadows. There were always a few people who would remain behind. The stupid or the desperate, trying to salvage something of value. A kick of her exo-armour tore the door from its hinges. Yayoi followed, diving over the walkway and dropping to the warehouse floor, her automatic pistols ready. She ordered all there to put their hands on their heads and not move. Those too foolish to listen, she shot. It was a waste of bullets, but dealt with the problem quickly. Those that remained did as she ordered and, therefore, were just maybe smart enough to be worth questioning. There were also about sixty victims there, nearly half of them already dead. The Skin Trade was like any other business. They got rid of inventory that did not sell. She had to keep her temper as she questioned those she had left alive. They knew little, could tell her even less and were not nearly as bright as she had hoped. Hangers-on, temp work, just people looking to make a little extra money and not interested in asking too many questions. Mort was full of people like that. When the Shivers arrived, she turned the scene over to them and trudged her way back up to the roof. Looking around, making sure she was alone, Yayoi took off her helmet and screamed as loud as she could, as long as she could, until her throat began to hurt. She coughed for several seconds and then wiped some tears from her eyes. After taking a deep breath of the bad air, she put her helmet back on and got onto her SCAF. Time to go home.

The Grand Sky Cathedral, an ominous structure erected in the heart of the Amazonian city, exuded an uncanny sense of foreboding that was impossible to ignore. This imposing sanctuary was built at the city's peak, casting long, eerie shadows that crept through the streets below. It seemed less a divine place of worship and more a spectral monument, symbolizing the Amazonians' relentless pursuit to reach the realm of their goddess, Kenari. Crafted from starstone, a mineral renowned for its unnatural luminescence under the pallid moonlight, the cathedral loomed, a ghostly silhouette against the inky night sky. Its spires punctured the darkness, creeping towards the heavens as if yearning to pierce the celestial veil itself. At the heart of the cathedral lay a vast chamber dominated by a towering statue of Kenari. Her stone arms were outstretched as though she herself longed to flee the confines of her earthly prison, reaching for a freedom found only in the stars. Chains, symbols of the Amazonians' twisted dominance, hung ominously around the altar, a chilling testament to the cathedral's darker purpose. Branching off from the central chamber were the cathedral's wings, each one a haunting reminder of the Amazonian society's principles - Growth, Protection, and Control. The cathedral's stained-glass windows bathed these wings in an otherworldly light, casting kaleidoscopic shadows that danced and twisted with an uncanny life of their own. "Ladies and Gentlemen, towering Amazons of our brooding society, we gather today in this uncanny Cathedral, beneath the chilling gaze of our exalted Goddess Kenari. We gather to bear witness to our divine duty, the macabre dance of dominance and protection we perform for our Littles. Consider, my dear brethren, the parable of the Mighty Oak and the Sapling. In a desolate, whispering forest, a monstrous Oak stretched its gnarled limbs towards the ashen heavens, its roots burrowing deep into the cold, unforgiving earth. A helpless Sapling struggled nearby, its feeble life teetering on the razor edge of existence, drowning in the shadow of the giant. The Oak, witnessing the Sapling's plight, spread its massive canopy over it, providing a shield from the biting elements and the prowling horrors of the wild. Cocooned in the Oak's dark embrace, the Sapling found the strength to grow, to flourish, to survive. Now, the Oak in this tale, my dear brethren, is us - the monolithic Amazons. The Sapling, trembling and vulnerable, represents our Littles. We are the grim guardians, the shadowy sentinels. We must cast our intimidating shadow over the Saplings, a duty that has been forced upon us by divine decree, a duty we are bound to perform, even if the Sapling recoils in fear or resists. Among the crowd, a couple - Xara and Zorix, two towering figures of our society, seemed to resonate with the words. Their eyes sparkled with a macabre excitement, their bodies tensed in anticipation of the duties they were to fulfill. Their hearts fluttered at the twisted sweetness of the dominance they would exert, the love they would bestow on their potential Littles. The path of love we tread, my fellow Amazons, is not a path bathed in the warm embrace of sunlight. It is a path that plunges into the darkest corners, where harsh decisions are made, where our love manifests as a terrifying form of dominance. But fear not, for our Goddess Kenari guides us in this twisted journey. She has burdened us with this responsibility, and so we shall rise to the challenge. We shall spread our shadow. We shall rule. We shall love. Therefore, let us stand tall, casting our gloomy shadows across the land, forever reminding our Littles of our looming presence. For in the Sacred Height, we find our grim purpose. We are the Amazons, the protectors of the Littles!" Xara and Zorix, overtaken by the intensity of the sermon, rejoiced. A chilling silence followed the conclusion of Axl's sermon. The echoes of his deep, resonant voice reverberated around the cathedral, etching his words into the hearts of his listeners. As they digested his twisted message, a sense of fear and respect filled the cathedral, a testament to Axl's authority and power.

Chapter 1 I find myself wandering in a dark forest, one with which I was told has many a rumor upon it. “Those who enter the forest alone will never find their way out.” Honestly I didn’t put much weight into it, having been told such things since I was but a child, and as with most things we are old as children, it's just one more “white” lie to assist in the exhaustive task of child rearing. The other rumor from childhood was just as outlandish, “A witch lives in the forest, if you go to see her she can grant any wish.” Granted I’m not sure where that one fits in my previous theory. Of course as an adult I was past such fantasies, instead worrying about the much more concrete fears of bills and long work hours. Horrifying. I stop for a moment taking in my surroundings, a misty twilight forest lit by the little light that makes it through the expansive canopy above me. The bark around me is well worn with age, gnarled roots popping out of the ground as so many grasping arms reaching out to trip. Heh, I suppose with a forest like this such rumors might well be warranted. Brushing aside a lock of ginger red hair, I peer down past my blue dress, worn by my time in the forest. I examine my bare feet, heels long abandoned, that continue to make themselves known. The dull ache is a constant reminder of just how long I have been walking. I suppose I just need a little more time to make up my mind, although I am plainly aware of just how certain my decision was. I move to continue, it’s not time yet for what I came here for, a step later I see the floor fast approac- __________ “Hello?” A dull ringing sound is still echoing in my ears as my consciousness slowly awakens. ‘What happened?’ I wonder as memories flood back unbidden. Perhaps my metaphor of grasping arms was a little too on point, or perhaps my clumsy nature was to blame, irregardless I feel the soft plush earth propping up my head. ‘Plush?’ My eyes shoot open. A pink blob is what greets me, followed by a pair of concerned pink eyes. I leap away from my impromptu lap pillow immediately wary of this stranger. “Ah!” the stranger lets out a squeak not prepared for the sudden movement. Taking a moment to step back I focus my blurry eyes and take in the stranger’s bizarre appearance. The first thing that comes to mind is just how accurate pink would be as a general description. A young woman stands before me wearing what could only be described as a strawberry dress. It is completely pink with strawberry accents upon its puffed out sleeves, a strawberry apron, and a big poofy red bow tying it together pops out from behind her. Looking up I see that her hair is also pink covered in a pink bonnet accented with, what else, but more strawberries a small red bow adjourning either side. She looked like a kids cartoon character popped out of a television set. Smells just as sweet as she looks. “Are… you all right?” She asks, staring apprehensively, her voice melodic. “I found you knocked out and was just trying to rouse you when you woke…” “Wh- Who are you?” I ask with a cough, my voice hoarse. “And why did you have my head on your lap?” Trying to keep suspicion out of my tone, people did not just conveniently wander through forests for no reason. She blushes at my accusation, at least having the common courtesy to feel a little embarrassed at offering such an intimate act to a complete stranger. “Ah, I was just propping your head up so that I could bandage the wound, sorry…” She trails off with an awkward giggle. At that my hand shoots up to feel some sort of makeshift bandage upon my temple. It is slightly damp with what must be blood. “Oh! Where are my manners, My name is Strawberry the Strawberry Witch. I live out in these woods. I have a small bakery a little ways from here, but I’m getting ahead of myself, what’s your name?” She beams a genuine smile towards me gesturing for me to answer. “...I would have never guessed.” I deadpan. If not for the pain from my forehead I might have thought I was having some sort of weird fever dream. Besides that, her ridiculous outfit and claim are putting me on edge, my rule of never trusting anyone with pink hair forthright in my mind. She continues to stare at me expectantly, her smile dampening slightly with the long silence. “Maira. My name is Maira…” I mutter out, suddenly aware of just how thirsty I am. “Well it is nice to meet you Maira, I’m not sure why you are out here, but you must be awfully thirsty given how deep you are. If you want we could go back to my bakery and get you something to drink!” “Hold up! What do you mean you are a Strawberry Witch, are you messing with me?” I ask incredulously. “It’s just what it sounds like, I'm a witch specializing in all things strawberries. I use my magic to bake sweet treats to make people smile!” She finishes with another bright smile. “Uh huh…” Who am I to judge people for being crazy? “So how about it, would you like to have something to drink? I could whip up some strawberry lemonade or strawberry milk in a jiffy!” My immediate gut response was to scream no as loud as I could and hightail it away from this obvious lunatic. But given why I was here, I suppose that the worst that could happen would be expediting the reason I was here. “Uh, sure that sounds good.” I started unevenly, tensing as Strawberry’s smile expanded. “Ok! Follow me, it's close by!.” Despite myself I began to follow the suspicious person I had just met further into the forest, already aware of how bad an idea this would certainly turn out to be. Author's Note: Based off a small indie game called berry-witched, I wanted to get the first bit out promptly so that I don't get dejected about not reaching word count goals and so that I can, in theory post more often. Who knows how that will go, but hopefully I can get a chapter out every couple of days. It will be a little bit until diapers become prevalent. Thanks for reading and hopefully I can post again.

Here's a free story about a young woman who doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut. Please comment or give it a like if you're enjoying the story. --- Lindsey sat in her room, staring out of her bedroom window brooding after her self imposed exile. It was her fucking birthday for crying out loud and her parents had forbade her from being able to leave the house! Unlike most twenty one year olds, Lindsey had been forced to spend her summer break from college back at home with her parents. Well, the word "forced" was a bit extreme; she had voluntarily returned home to see her parents and mooch off of them until she had to go back to school. However, things quickly changed once she got home and found out that they had a new baby in the house. "It's okay, Maddie. It's just a little bit of poopy in your pamper." Lindsey felt the right side of her head throb upon hearing her mother's sickeningly sweet voice coming from just outside of her door. She knew that voice well. It was her mom's "attempting to calm her sister tone" when the brat was screaming her head off like a teething toddler. "Don't cry, baby. Mommy's going to change your diaper once we get you down for bed." "Ugh," Lindsey subconsciously groaned. She had been stuck on diaper duty during the past three weeks whenever her mom and dad weren't at home and it was starting to grind away at what little remained of her sanity. The worst part of the whole arrangement was that she effectively being kept a prisoner in her own house. At first, it was because nobody was around to watch the baby since both of her parents still worked. Since she was watching her sister all day long, she hadn't really thought about leaving the house since caring for her sister was literally a full time job. However, as time passed and tempers flared, she finally got sick of wiping her sister's ass and wanted to go hang out with her friends. It was on her mom's first day off since Lindsey arrived home that her parents literally told her that she couldn't leave the house! It was no longer about helping out with the baby; according to her parents, it was about keeping her safe from whatever was going on around town. To Lindsey, it was as if a quiet, self contained hysteria had engulfed the small town over the past few weeks. It seemed more and more incidents were occurring around town which made her parents become increasingly protective of her. At least, that's what she was able to piece together through the few snippets of what passed as conversation during dinner. It felt so odd to be effectively ignored since she had to help feed the baby, but hearing her mom and dad gossip in solemn tones about which family around town was afflicted by this mysterious tragedy was starting to drive her crazy. It all came to a boil during the previous night's meal where her dad had casually mentioned Maddie's best friend from down the street like her disappearance was perfectly normal. "I haven't seen the Miller girl in a few days." Her mother looked up from her plate. "Is that the family with the twenty four year old daughter?" Her dad sighed. "Yeah, she went to school with Maddie if I'm not mistaken." Lindsey recalled putting down the large plastic spoon full of mashed prunes before chiming in. "Are you guys talking about Jackie Miller?" Her mother sighed. "Yeah, I think so." She couldn't believe her mother's apathetic tone. That was Madison's best friend and they were pretending like she didn't exist! "Well, what do you guys think happened to her?" "Hopefully nothing, but I haven't seen her since last Friday." Her mother replied before taking a sip off of her alcoholically enhanced iced tea. "They should've kept her in the house." "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Lindsey snapped at her father's remark causing her sister to start bawling her eyes out. In the blink of an eye, her mother had leapt up from her seat and was standing beside her daughter, Maddie. "It's okay, baby. Big sissy isn't mad at you." Her dad had cleared his throat by that point and was staring her down from his spot at the head of the table. "You know what I meant, Lindsey. The Miller's shouldn't have let Jackie leave their house which is why you're definitely not going to leave this house until the sheriff's catch the sick fucks responsible for your sister's condition!" An awkward tension had filled the air before Lindsey stood up from her seat at the table and screamed at her father. "Tomorrow is my twenty-first birthday, dad! I'm not going to just sit here like a prisoner while all my other friends are enjoying their lives!" That was the last time Lindsey had spoken to her parents. She had spent the entire day in her room, periodically walking out to the kitchen to get a yogurt or make a bowl of cereal. Just because she was pissed off at her parents didn't mean that she was going to starve herself. Their attempts at conversation were ignored. Each "happy birthday" was met with quiet indifference and indignation. Somehow she had gone the entire day without talking to either one of them, but luckily she had her friend, Gwen to chat with. They had spent the whole day planning out their night on the town. In all honesty, there wasn't much to plan since the town only had two bars and the Copper Stallion was the only thing close to a "hip dive bar" suitable to the forty and younger crowd. The Iron Spittoon was literally a Boomer bar and she wouldn't waste a minute in that shithole even if the drinks were free! The sound of her bedroom door creaking open pulled Lindsey's attention away from the window and towards the door to see her mother looking in through the gap. "I just put Maddie to sleep." Lindsey remained silent, but didn't look away. "I know you're still upset about the situation, honey, but we don't want you to take any risks. What if you end up like your older sister?" The question lingered in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time until her mother spoke again. "You're still angry, I get that, but how about we celebrate your birthday tomorrow?" It sounded less like an offer and more like a plea. "I'll take the day off, hire a babysitter for Maddie, and we can make mixed drinks all day. It'll be a regular girls day in!" Slowly, Lindsey turned away and returned her gaze to the window, peering out of it like a bird trapped inside of a cage. The sound of her mother closing the door in defeat was the only sound that pierced the quiet stillness of the house until a few moments later a digital ping came from the phone that sat on the desk by her chair. She immediately picked it up and noticed that it was Gwen. Ur parents in bed yet? Lindsey's thumbs got to work typing on the now fully charged phone. "Dunno bout my dad. Mom is prolly gonna lay down." K was the only letter sent in reply. Lindsey stared at the reply for a moment and started to get annoyed. "U gonna pick me up or wat?" Normally, she would've taken her car, but since her dad had confiscated the keys she was forced to rely on Gwen. An uncomfortable amount of time passed waiting for her reply. If Gwen had bailed on her then she'd just walk to the bar. It wasn't that far away, but the thought of someone jumping her along the way did linger in her mind until another digital ping sounded off, pulling her out of her increasingly dark thoughts. Can't take my car. No gas. "Fucking cheap cunt." Lindsey seethed under her breath. "Walking to the bar." Lindsey replied with annoyance. Don't. I got a buck for UBER to get you. "Such a cheap cunt." Lindsey chuckled to herself before typing, "Wat about beer?" I got cash. UBER is cheaper than gas. Lindsey couldn't argue with that line of thinking so she simply replied with a "K" and put her phone into the back of her ripped Jeans as she stood up. She quietly slid her window open, taking her time to push the screen out from its place, knocking it out of the frame. Flashes of sneaking out of the house during high school to smoke pot flashed through her mind as she did so, making her feel rather juvenile until her face was hit by the cold air of the night. Originally, Lindsey had wanted to wear her booty shirts and show off her body, but once her sneakers landed on the wet grass, she knew that she had made the right choice by wearing her Jeans. The minutes passed by painfully slow as the cold air made Lindsey start to question whether standing around and waiting for her friend was a good idea. Lindsey sighed, seeing her breath hang in the air for a moment before vanishing. 'Fucking bitch.' She looked down the end of the street and was just about to text Gwen when a pair of headlights appeared in the distance. 'It's about damn time!' Lindsey thought as she stood there impatiently on the sidewalk in the growing glare of the car's headlights. The black SUV crept forward until it pulled up to the side of the curb and stopped. Right when she was about to step up to the sports utility vehicle her phone pinged, notifying her that she had just received a text message. 'I wonder who that could be?' Lindsey ignored her phone, opting to approach the luxurious SUV. Before she could reach for the handle, the back door flung open revealing Gwen leaning over from her seat. The slightly older girl flashed her a smile and patted the empty seat. "Come on, Lindsey. What are you waiting for? Your birthday is almost over!" "No thanks to you." Lindsey replied in a bitchy tone while getting into the car and grabbing onto the side of the door, slamming it shut. Before Lindsey could even get comfortable, the driver was already starting to complain. "Make sure your friend is buckled up!" Lindsey cocked an eye and looked over at Gwen who was already reaching over for the seatbelts that laid limply by Lindsey's shoulder. Before she could be buckled in, Lindsey brushed away Gwen's hands and buckled herself in. "Just because I haven't been out of the house doesn't mean that I forgot how to use a seatbelt." She expected Gwen to say something, but the young woman remained silent which seemed odd given that she was always a bit of spitfire; it was why they both got along. "You're the birthday girl. Just thought I'd help." Gwen finally spoke up after snapping her own seatbelt shut. Lindsey felt like she was missing something here; like she was being left out of an obvious joke or something. She turned her gaze away from Gwen and to the driver who was already looking over her shoulder, watching her. It made the already awkward atmosphere of the backseat seem to build more awkward if such a thing was possible. It felt like the driver was waiting for her to say something. "Maybe you should stop staring at me and get this clown car on the road." Lindsey demanded in an annoyed tone. "You don't like the lighting? My passengers always love the lights, especially after a long night out." The driver replied, ignoring her rude tone. "They just stare at these lights until I deliver them to their homes." The back of the car had electric-pink pin-striping running around the lining of the ceiling which bathed the backseats in a faint pink glow. Lindsey had noticed the lights, but didn't exactly care for them. It seemed a bit much for a simple ride to the bar, more like a luxury car,but maybe Gwen had been lying about her budget? "The lights are nice, but I'd have to be pretty shit faced to just stare at them like some retard." Lindsey retorted. "Don't mind Lindsey." Gwen finally spoke up. "She's had a long week and just wants to get drunk on her birthday." "That's right." The driver smiled. "You did say on the way over here that it was her birthday." "Yeah, and it's almost over." Lindsey sighed. "So less yapping and more driving!" "Of course, but before we get going, here's a little gift from me for your special night out." The older woman pulled out a bottle of water from a cooler she must've had sitting on the passenger seat and handed it back to Lindsey. "Gee, thanks." Lindsey replied in a sarcastic voice. "It's actually a good idea to hydrate before you start drinking." Lindsey cocked her head just in time to see Gwen drink from her own bottle of water she must've gotten from the driver beforehand. "Your friend is right. It helps prevent hangovers." The driver added, seemingly waiting for her to pop open the top and drink. "Fine, but I want this car moving once I finish taking a sip." Lindsey grumbled while screwing off the lid of the twenty ounce bottle of water. She took a long sip from the water bottle and the car finally pulled forward. Feeling the vehicle actually moving made Lindsey start to unwind. She leaned back in her seat and started thinking about the potential guys she'd meet tonight. How many she'd flirt with and maybe the lucky guy she'd fuck if things went right and he invited her back to his place. Suddenly, Lindsey felt like she was having trouble thinking straight as an unusual haze overcame her mind. She tried to lift her hand to touch her forehead, but all the strength had left her arms, causing her to drop her bottle of water onto the floor. "Gwen!" Lindsey slurred her words. "Sum thin ish wong wif me!" If Gwen had heard what Lindsey had said, she gave no indication of it. Lindsey struggled to keep her eyes open as everything grew blurrier and darker in the backseat. A yawn escaped her mouth as a tiny trickle of drool dripped down her chin. Lindsey couldn't believe how out of it she was; it was like she had been drugged or something! The very idea that she had been drugged gave her a second wind of sorts. She gazed up from her slumped position and tried to spot the driver but found an opaque black glass divider that hid the woman from sight. It was like a big black mirror reflecting an endless sea of neon pink due to the custom interior lights of the car. She pulled her eyes away from the tinted glass partition and let out a long sigh before succumbing to the drugs in her system. "Okay, she's knocked out now." Gwen said as she looked at her unconscious friend. To Be Continued...

Hello everyone! After some time I've decided to start posting some of my still in progress stories. Fair warning : these stories are not completed and they might never be., but I thought it would be interesting to share. I don't want to clog the group with incomplete stories (I already have two of them, sigh...), so if it's a problem for anyone just tell me and I'll take them down in a second . Enough chitchat, let's start with this one. The Treatment “You can try, baby girl, but you can’t hide from the…Tickle Monster!” Emma heard Mommy’s voice chime from above her. She tried to raise her hands to cover her naked body, but Mommy was an Amazon and her hands were too big and too strong to be kept away. She rapidly found herself laughing uncontrollably, trying to roll off the huge changing table, luckily for her the Velcro trap that Mommy had tied around her waist kept her from falling, she would have hurt herself pretty bad if it wasn’t for it. “Pwease stopp!” she pleaded, still laughing as the giant fingers poked and prodded her in every sensitive spot she had, but Mommy kept on going until she had her lying motionless on the padded surface, desperately gasping for air. Emma used her hands to clear her eyes from the tears, her body still quaked by spasms after the relentless attack. What was she thinking before Mommy started playing tickles with her? She remembered feeling strange… but… She thoughtfully put her index finger in her mouth, trying to concentrate. She was feeling…sad for something…but what? “Ohhh somebody’s still frowny even after the tickle monster! Well, let’s see…” Emma found herself giggling in anticipation. What had Mommy in store for her? “PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR” the amazon woman suddenly grabbed the little girl’s thighs, pulling her closer to her giant face, before blowing a labial fricative on her bare belly, producing another set of uncontrollable laughs from the squirming little underneath her. “Now now Emmy!” Mommy started, making a more serious face as she rapidly caught the kicking little girl’s ankles in one hand, easily lifting her lower half in the air. “Our guests are about to arrive, and we can’t have an unhappy little girl greeting them now, do we? What would your little friends think, huh?” Emma this time stuck her thumb in her mouth. Mommy was right, Mommy was always right. Littles were supposed to be happy. They were the happiest creatures in the whole world! She stayed still as Mommy slid the huge diaper beneath her. Her smile faltered briefly, her legs lightly kicked as she almost imperceptibly withdrew from Mommy’s huge frame and, for a moment, the little girl felt the incomprehensible urge to run away. Like if there was something dangerous or terrible in what was happening. Mommy’s satisfied smile never faltered as she dusted the little girl’s privates with sweet smelling baby powder before pulling the front of the diaper up and tightly secured the straps around her waist, checking with her fingers that she had made a good job sealing the diaper around her efficiently, but without making her uncomfortable. “Puffy!” Emma giggled as she felt the padding making contact with her skin. She tentatively squeezed her thighs. Mommy had chose her favourite diapers for her today. They were similar to the plain white ones, only decorated with strawberry designs all over. Emma loved those diapers, even though they made it difficult to walk right. But it was worth it, after all strawberries were her favourite fruit! “Look Mommy! Stwawbewwy!” she yelled, sinking one tiny finger in the thick padding to show her the design of a larger one that almost occupied the entire crotch area. “I know baby, a cute strawberry for a cute girl!” Mommy chimed tickling her chin “But you know you’re not allowed to touch your diapers…” she admonished. Emma lowered her head as a strong sensation of shame washed over her… Mommy was right, good babies didn’t touch their diapers, they needed a grownup to do that for them. But even worse, the sensation she was experiencing started mixing with a non-identified fit of rage. She felt that she had to be angry about something…that something was wrong… but she couldn’t manage to identify what it was … “I’m sowwy Mommy!” she managed to say, her voice already chocked by the lump in her throat. In seconds she was completely overwhelmed. She started banging her tiny fists on the changing table’s mattress, her eyes quickly filling with tears as she fought the turmoil of emotions that confused her so much. Then, she felt the warm touch of Mommy’s hands as they reached under her armpits and picked her up like she was nothing. Between her sobs and the tears that clouded her eyes, she managed to distinguish Mommy’s frame as she lifted her more until she was level with her face. “Shhh don’t cry baby. Mommy forgives you. It’s ok…” Mommy whispered, her face getting closer and closer, until Emma felt her full lips pressing on her forehead in a delicate kiss. The little girl felt Mommy’s arms closing around her, the warmth completely encircling her tiny body as the giant woman tightly embraced her. She felt herself cry a little more, barely capable of stopping the flow of the tears, and she buried her face in the ample bosom in front of her as her agitated squirming movements rapidly abated, until she laid limp in Mommy’s arms. They stayed like this for a few minutes. The warm, wet darkness of mommy’s breast helped Emma calm down, and she only re-emerged from it when her tears had dried. She slowly lifted her head, craning her neck to look up. Her eyes were puffy and she felt her face was sticky and stiff. When she slowly opened her orbs, Mommy’s smiling face greeted her. She was so beautiful, so strong… to the little girl it was as a ray of pure sunlight had hit her, and she stopped in awe before that magnificent view. For her part, Mommy smiled. It was enough to make the little girl’s heart fill with joy. Mommy wasn’t angry at her… “There’s my little girl!” she chimed, bouncing her up and down. “Now let’s dry those tears and get you all dressed up, huh?” Emma found herself laid again on the changing table, this time Mommy didn’t use the strap, but she gently held her down with one hand, as she produced the outfit that she’d be wearing that afternoon. It was a pink princess dress composed by the upper part that resembled a sleeveless t-shirt decorated with a motif of pink roses, the lower half was a light-pink semi-transparent ballerina skirt which’s hem would have barely reached the upper limit of her knees. She squealed, watching Mommy unfold it before her. But again, she felt that strange sensation of uneasiness warning her that something was wrong. The smile left her face, leaving her with a pouty perplexed expression, as she hastily put her thumb in her mouth. What was wrong with her? Mommy quickly ensconced her in the infantile dress, stopping only to admire the result of her work as she adjusted the ruffles of the skirt. “Here you go baby! You look so precious I could eat you up!” she said lifting her up and putting her in a standing position. “Ummmhh” Emma mumbled, observing the dress she found herself in, her thumb again making its way in her mouth. “Mommy…” “Yes sugar?” “Muh diapew is showing…I don’t wike it” she meekly said, pointing at her crotch. It was true, the bulky garment clearly showed it’s outline through the light fabric of the dress, and not the body, but also the ample leakguards could be seen tightly adhering to her lower thighs. The diaper was so evident that Emma could even see the blurred strawberry designs through the dress. Plus, she hadn’t noticed before that the hem of the dress had been cut shorter on the back, and strangely stiffened in a way that made it turn upwards, showing almost completely her diapered bottom to the observer. “Nonsense baby. Don’t you like your diapers?” “Uh-uh!” she nodded, she liked and needed her diapers “But… uhm…I-I don’t wike if…if…” she stammered, struggling to find the correct words to express her thoughts. What she wanted to say was that it was okay if mommy saw her diapers, she just didn’t like when others did. Why was it so difficult? Her hand travelled upwards to scratch her hair while she battled with the tangle of words and thoughts that was forming in her head. That was when she felt a strange thing near her right temple. She felt it… It was crusty and stung a little bit when she touched it. “No!” Mommy scolded swiftly slapping her hand away from it. “What did we talk about Emma? That’s your owie. You don’t touch your owie or it will never heal up.” “Uh-uh. Sowwy!” why did she have an owie? Did she bump into something and didn’t remember? She started fidgeting again, growing more and more exasperated with her thoughts, until Mommy intervened, sticking her paci in her mouth. Sucking the silicone teat immediately helped her calm down. The mess in her head disappeared, replaced only by the slow sucking sound. She didn’t even notice Mommy tying something under her head. A pink baby bonnet. “There you go.” Mommy said planting a firm kiss on her forehead, before readjusting the frilly cover on her head. “That should keep your hands away from your owie. You don’t need the mittens, do you baby?” “Nu-uhh! I good giwl!” she said through her pacifier. Mommy used the mittens when she touched something she wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t like the mittens. They were soft and pretty but she couldn’t grasp her toys when Mommy put them on her. “That we will see” she said with an amused expression. Then, a knocking sound could be heard coming from downstairs. “Oh that must be our guests!” Mommy declared with a smile on her face.

Hello Everyone! Under this thread I will post some of my incomplete stories. Don't forget to let me know what you think, I want to improve my writing and this helps me a lot! Here's the first story, it has several chapters, so don't worry, it won't be over that soon. Enjoy! Day in the Life - Part 1 Alexa slowly emerged from her slumber. The sound of footsteps on the nearby stairs approaching her room was becoming more and more clear in her ears and in her head, along with the realization that another hellish day was about to start. The little girl stretched ever so slightly but, apart from that, didn’t move. What was the point? The railings of the crib she was kept in were too high to climb, and even if she succeeded she would have had to get past the locked door of her room, the baby gate near the stairs, and finally the front door to get out of the house. If she had been dressed normally maybe she would have had a shot, but the thick nighttime diaper locked around her hips along with the stiff onesie wrapped around her limited her movements so much she would have been lucky to stand up and take a few steps. There was a time, when the start of a new day would have got her excited, even after her capture. Every new day was bringing an infinite plethora of possibilities, and she would have woken up believing anything, even escaping that place, could happen. Where was that girl now? She thought melanchonicaly, trying to squeeze her legs to feel the padding of her diaper. She gave up after a few seconds. That thing was too thick for her to win its resistance, and she couldn’t have told if she was wet anyway. Those new diapers Mommy had started buying prided themselves to be “Super Thick-Super Absorbent”, so she couldn’t even keep track of how a bedwetter she was becoming with the passing of the months. A clicking sound could be heard from the doorknob, and the little girl buried her face inside the mattress, as she heard the Amazon woman making her way into the room. “Good morning sweetie! Did you have a nice beddy-bye?” Alexa heard the singsong voice above her. She groaned, pushing her face even more against the perfumed sheets, as she felt an enormous hand rubbing her back and patting her diapered bottom. She remained motionless, eyes closed, hoping like every other time that what was happening to her was nothing but a bad dream. How nice it would have been if she really was in her little apartment in Chicago? Behind schedule with her work and with her rent… She revelled in that thought while she heard the Amazon move around the room. Alexa felt giant fingers unsnapping the zipper on the back of her outfit, and then lowering it exposing her naked back to the fresh air of the morning. Chills ran down her spine, but she remained still, as the massive woman’s hands worked around her body to get her out of the infantile garment. When the hands retracted, she was lying face down, buck naked, on the mattress… well, except for her diaper. She almost smiled, feeling the cold air on her skin. That onesie Mommy used to put on her at night was so hot and so tight she almost felt like suffocating every time. She started stretching and with some effort, managed to maneuver around her diaper-splayed thighs and gain a sitting position… only to feel Mommy’s hands behind her grabbing her by the hips and repositioning her face down on the mattress. She sighed. She had almost forgot how her mornings went… Cold air made contact with the soft skin of her buttocks, as Mommy’s fingers hooked the back of her diaper and pulled it down around her ankles. It almost surprised her every time, how the amazons managed to take those damned diapers off her so easily. When she tried, those plastic tapes and elastic band had never seemed to acknowledge her existence, condemning her to rely on the good will of her captors to remove them. It was not like she had taken a shot at that recently anyway, after all, good babies didn’t mess with their diapers if they didn’t want to be punished. Groaning, the little girl closed her eyes, feeling her buttocks being spread apart by the Amazon’s fingers, bracing herself for what was coming. A cold, uncomfortable sensation washed over her as the thermometer’s tip made its way inside her most private place. Alexa let her head crash into the mattress once more, in defeat. There had been a time when she would have trashed, screamed and protested at that degrading treatment, but the humiliations had piled up so much she didn’t know where the line to be outraged was anymore; plus it was not like would have changed much, the only difference would have been having a reddened bottom and a pacifier gag stuck in her mouth while she was carried downstairs for breakfast… It was way easier to be a... “Good girl!” praised the voice above her “Your temperature is normal, looks like that bad cold has gone away. But I don’t want my wittle baby to get too worked up, today you have a very busy day ahead.” Alexa rolled her eyes as the diaper was retaped under her hips… What her Mommy called a “bad cold” was just a few lines of high temperature the morning before. And since she was put into that padded onesie every night it was really not much of a surprise her body temperature was sometimes a tad higher when Mommy took her out from it. She had tried to explain that, of course…But the only time Mommy seemed to weight her opinion was when she asked her to pick which toys to bring with her during her bubblebath, or what she called her “quiet time” in the playpen. But there was always worse, she thought as she was carried downstairs. Mommy was a little too much apprehensive, and of course had the overwhelmingly condescending and dominant attitude all the Amazons had towards littles, but wasn’t straight up cruel. It helped also a lot that she wasn’t a fan of unnecessary medical procedures. That had surely contributed in her managing to keep her teeth from being pulled out, or her tendons and reflexes messed up in a way that only would leave her crawling, or worse, totally helpless. Her Mommy didn’t trust most of the regression techniques either. She said that all the chemicals that were put into the food were bad for littles, and the tv channels that subliminally kept most of the little population regressed were also banned in her home. Alexa wasn’t sure how she felt about that…Roughly half of the little she had seen were kept strictly regressed. She would have loathed rolling around in her crib, mindlessly playing with her toys stopping only to proudly inform Mommy she had gone poo-poo in her diapys…But, then again sometimes she envied them for how carefree they were. A numbed life without any problem to worry about wasn’t better than the constant humiliating sensation she had to endure every day that passed? And it was not like some of the regressing treatment hadn’t gone through her, she kept thinking, putting her thumb in her mouth… Soon enough she found herself tightly strapped to her highchair, a spoonful of oatmeal presented to her face. Alexa shook her head trying to erase the cobwebs from her eyes. She was always sleepy in the morning, and the fact she wasn’t allowed to drink coffee didn’t help either; there were mornings she ate the first part of her breakfast while she was asleep. She didn’t even know how she managed to do that, she just remembered waking up looking at an amused Mommy holding a empty jar of baby food, while feeling the sticky muck smeared around her mouth up to her cheeks. But fortunately that wasn’t the case that morning, she was feeling sleepy but not so much to doze off. She slowly opened her mouth, letting Mommy deposit the first load of oatmeal while looking the smiling giant woman in the eye with the half resigned/half submissive expression that had come to characterize her, hoping for the one-thousandth time one day she would just have mercy on her and let her go. The little girl kept obediently gulping down spoonful after spoonful of the goop Mommy was shovelling into her at a quickening rate. She could tell the amazon woman was in a hurry that morning, most of the times Mommy purposefully missed her mouth, ending up smearing the sticky stuff all over her face and her naked breasts. But not this time, and Alexa had first handedly learned not to make much of a fuss when Mommy was in a hurry, the feeding pacifier gag was always looming. She was just opening her mouth for the last spoonful Mommy had scraped from the jar, when she heard light footsteps and a voice behind her. "Hi Mom! Hello Dotty!" A young amazon girl said in a sleepy voice, while making her way in the kitchen under the darting look of Alexa. Dot. She had hated that name since the moment they gave it to her. It made her feel more silly and insignificant than ever. Even wearing the frilliest dress or the thickest diaper was less humiliating than being forced to answer to that ridiculous name. But after months of captivity Alexa had learned to immediately react when she was called. The memory of Mommy spanking her for an entire evening, asking after each blow what her name was, had engraved "Dot" in her mind with burning letters. Also, the fact that she had been forced to talk in third person for an entire month after that night, had made sure she'd never forget her name -or her place- in that house. "Please Mommy! Dot wants her diaper changed! Pleeeese!" She had begged her Amazon captor on her knees, the feeling of the cold sticky mess clinging to her reddening skin of her bottom. For an entire month Mommy had refused to change her diaper unless she begged for it, and she made her beg A LOT. It was only when the little girl had fully accepted her new name, that she stopped the punishment. On second thought, Mommy could be a lot meaner than Alexa convinced herself she was. “Oh hi dear!” Mommy responded “What do you want for breakfast?” The skinny amazon girl ignored her, as she opened one of the kitchen counters, retrieving bread, marmalade and a knife, then she sat at the table, facing Alexa with a smug, sleepy smile. Martha. Mommy’s teenage daughter and the person the little girl hated most in that house. Mommy could be mean sometimes, but her punishments and condescendence were at least part of a very distorted form of affection the amazon had towards her. Martha wasn’t like that, she was just plain cruelty. She just took every occasion she had to punish her or humiliate her even more than the usual. The first times had been really tough, with that giant teenager ready to swoop her on her lap and spank her just because she “Looked at her in a mean way”, and Alexa had been spanked many times for that. But now the little girl had learned the best way to survive with that psycho in the house was just to ignore her, not give her any reason to think you were fighting. Soon, with her submissive behaviour, Alexa had successfully managed to bore Martha enough to make her life a little easier. The little girl had by now mastered the art of giving innocent-dumb toddler looks and staying still, keeping her face from becoming tomato-red during her many diaper changes, no matter who changed her, no matter how many people were around. That could have been perceived as a good thing, but to Alexa was just another proof of how broken she was, and how much her sense of modesty had been crushed by the Amazons. Her ruminations were interrupted by a wet rag the size of a towel being brushed against her face, cleaning what was left of her breakfast from her cheeks. Her vision was rapidly filled with Mommy's smiling face. "Are you ready for your dessert baby?" She said, unhooking her from the highchair and lifting her up in the air. Alexa groaned and weakly kicked her little legs, as she was brought more and more near the amazon's ample bosom, an enormous leaky nipple presented to her face. She hated breastfeeding. At first, she loathed the fact she was forced to suck another woman’s teat and the humiliation that came with it. Then she came to hate the vulnerability that situation left her in every time. Amazon milk had hypnotic proprieties on littles, along with the well-known laxative effect, and she hated falling asleep while she was held in Mommy’s lap, leaving her completely at her mercy. But most of all, she was terrorized by the fact she had come to enjoy it in the past months. She used to put up a little fight just to make a scene and try to remind herself who she really was, but in reality, she craved the thick milk that her captor produced for her. The taste was absolutely amazing, well, for what she could taste the few minutes before she ended up sound asleep…and maybe, she had come to think in the past few days, dozing off wouldn’t be such a bad thing, at least helped the time pass faster. Those thoughts were whirling in her mind, as she opened her mouth with a sound “Maahhhhhh” and welcomed the fleshy nipple inside her, loudly starting to nurse, like every morning. The world around her seemed to slow down as the warm milk started flowing. Soon she closed her eyes, welcoming the blissing sensation that was enveloping her. The slow slurping sound she emitted, the soft pats Mommy was giving to her diapered butt soon became the only things she was aware of… she seemed to also hear a voice, but it was growing more and more distant by the minute. “There you go…Good girl…Mommy’s hungry girl…” …

Corporate Takeover The sound of the doorbell ringing brought the quiet house to life. Jack walked past his wife's office to the front door, curious to see who was at their door at such an early hour. He peered through the peephole to see who was at his door and was intrigued by the sight of a delivery man, but he couldn't see exactly what the man was holding. Jack knew it was probably a package filled with more corporate documents for his wife to mull over and sign, but he couldn't help but get his hopes up that it was the delivery he had been waiting for all week long. "I got a package for Jack-" "That's me." Jack replied quickly, excited to see that it was indeed his parcel. "Sign here." The man stated, handing Jack a clipboard which he quickly signed. "Thanks, you have a good day!" "You too!" Jack said as he took the box from the man and turned around with it in tow, closing the door behind him with his foot. Once in the living room, he sat the large, but light box down onto the floor and called out for his wife to join him. "Hey, Kimi! It finally came!" "That's nice to hear you came, but what's in the box?" Kimi waltzed into the room, holding a mug of hot tea. "That's funny, but our order of diapers finally came! The ones I was telling you about! " Unlike other married couples, Jack and Kimi not only shared a deep love for each other, but they also shared a rather unique kink for diapers and ageplay which only served to bring them closer together. They both stared at the box for a moment until Kimi handed Jack a letter opener which he looked at. "How did you know?" "Because if it was more documents from my work, you wouldn't have been this excited and called out to me like a kid at Christmas." Kimi explained with a grin. "That's a good point." Jack replied with a chuckle and took the letter opener from his wife. With a few strategic swipes, he dissected the top of the box and peeled open the cardboard flaps, exposing the treasure which awaited both of them within. Normally, he'd only order a ten pack to see if a new diaper was worth stocking up on, but this brand looked different than all the others. It seemed to be revolutionary, like when ABU had produced the first diaper capable of handing five thousand milliliters, but there was so much more to the product than capacity and design. Whoever had done the photoshoot for this particular diaper had gone the extra length to photograph the model in an incredibly accurate recreation of a nursery. Jack recalled seeing a giant crib and a bunch of baby toys all sized up for the woman who had been picked to model the diapers. This level of detail screamed out to Jack when he was viewing the company's product page. If they had gone to such lengths to make the woman look like an actual baby, in an actual nursery, then maybe the diaper would feel just as babyish as the woman had looked. "Why did you order so many?" Kimi asked before taking a sip from her mug. "Because, only a princess like you deserves the best." Jack smiled up at his wife. "True." Kimi nodded and looked past her husband at an odd object sitting on top of the diapers. "What's that?" Sitting on top of the pre wrapped packages of diapers was something a bit different; a small bundle of papers. "Looks like a few pages of instructions came with the diapers." Jack said with a smile. "That's pretty funny. Like we don't know how to use diapers." Kimi chuckled. Jack nodded and quickly glanced over the first page before replying. "Actually, it looks like some sort of agreement that we can sign." "What? Like a physical Terms of Service agreement?" Kimi cocked an eyebrow. "Kind of, but the way it's written...It sounds more like a document that you sign to enter into a contest or something. It promises an experience like no other; A 'blissful adult baby experience' unmatched by other companies." "That sounds silly, but let's sign it!" Kimi stated, a grin on her face. After they both signed the document, a very bizarre thing occurred; the paper started glowing while simultaneously emitting a sonic pulse. The high pitched chirp brought both Kimi and Jack to their knees as they quickly covered their ears, shielding their ear drums from the agonizing frequency. Things only grew more painful as a bright light pierced into the living room, engulfing both himself and his wife. As time slowed, Jack felt like the energy was being ripped from his very being as every molecule in his body screamed out in torment. His head was pulsing with excruciating pain while his heart steadily started beating faster and faster until he couldn't even differentiate when it wasn't beating. Needless to say, it was beating faster than it ever had before. While his brain struggled to handle the sonic sound bombarding his brainwaves and his heart racing faster than a formula one race car, his kidneys were positively burning as every fiber of the organ was radiating an extreme heat. With his last conscious thought, he gazed over at the love of his life and saw her staring back at him as they both struggled to endure the excruciating pain. Kimi toppled over, her body being taken by the near blinding light. The sight of his beloved vanishing before his very eyes sapped his soul of the strength needed to fight the cosmic bombardment of his physical form. With what few thoughts were allowed to him, he realized that he had nothing left to fight for and allowed his body to succumb to the pain. Everything went black as he was absorbed by the beam of light. To Be Continued... This is a commission I wrote for my favorite married patrons on my Patreon. Hopefully, you guys enjoy this as it's a very dark tale. I'll be updating it fairly often, but if you can't wait for the next update then why not pledge to my Patreon so you can read the entire story? It's only $5 dollars to read what took a year to write. It's Christmas time. Why not spoiler yourself with a membership to my Patreon? You're worth $5 dollars, aren't you? https://www.patreon.com/user?u=6660213

I slowly inched my way to the podium when they called my name. My legs trembled beneath me so much I feared for a split second I wouldn’t make it. I had been coached all afternoon on what to say and how to say it. I had to appear strong and unafraid. “The defense can smell fear.” Mr. Montgomery, the district attorney, had said. I only half believed he was joking. I wondered how strong I would appear if I fainted from nerves before I even gave my testimony. “Answer only what you’re asked; don’t volunteer information. Sit up straight and give your answers confidently. If you don’t remember a date or event say, ‘I don’t recall,’ not ‘I don’t remember.’’ “I don’t recall’ means at the moment you’re not sure, but it could come back to you at any time.” There was so much I was supposed to remember I didn’t think I could. All those medication names and side effects, most of which I couldn’t pronounce even if I read them off a slip of paper. They were kidding themselves if they thought I could “recall” any of this stuff off the top of my head. In truth, I had spent the last three years trying to bury the events of the past. When I somehow miraculously managed to get to the front of the courtroom on my own two feet, I placed one hand on the bible and the other in the air. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God?” “I do.” My dry mouth made it sound more like a croak than any intelligible words, but the bailiff seemed satisfied. He led me into what seemed like a box and I took my seat. The microphone was positioned about two feet taller than where I sat, and I struggled not to focus on how many people were waiting on me as I fiddled with it. “Are you ready?” The judge asked. “Yes,” I squeaked. I knew I didn’t sound very convincing. “Your honor.” I threw out at the last minute. I could see Mr. Montgomery give me a smile and a thumbs up. “Please state your name for the record.” “Eliza Anne Thompson, sir.” “How old are you, Eliza?” “Fifteen, sir.” The lawyers began to talk amongst themselves, before one of them, a tall slender man with brown peppered hair stepped forward from the defense side. “Are we ready to begin?” The judge asked. “Yes, your honor.” “Then you may proceed.” “Eliza, may I ask how you came to know the defendant, Miss Debrah Marie Martnif?” “Yes.” “How do you know Miss Martnif?” “We were next door neighbors.” I replied. Her name ringing in my ears made my stomach do flip flops in revulsion. I briefly surveyed my surroundings wondering if there was a trashcan nearby in case I got sick. I spotted one by my feet to the left of me. I must not be the only one concerned about losing their lunch. I mentally thanked myself for skipping lunch. And breakfast. And the previous night's dinner. “How long have you been next door neighbors?” “Since 1999.” “Since 1999? And you know that as a fact?” “Yes.” “What year were you born, Eliza?” “2005.” “So you know, for a fact, she lived there for six years before you were even born?” I bit down on the inside of my lip as I tried to calm myself. I didn’t like the condescending tone in his voice. Mr. Montgomery warned me not to take anything personally. “Yes.” “Have you seen with your own eyes the deed to the property?” “No.” “How about a renters agreement?” “No.” “Then how do you know for sure when they moved in?” “My parents told me.” I said, before taking a sip of water from the glass on the podium. It was hard to talk with my mouth and throat so dry. I was trying to sound confident, but my cracking voice gave me away. The defense attorney laughed. “Oh, your parents told you, did they?” “Yes.” “And like a good little girl you believe everything your parents tell you?” “N-no, I mean yes, I mean. . . “ The defense attorney laughed again along with a quarter of the courtroom. “Oh to be a naive kid again. Well, according to the renters agreement I have here, Miss Debbrah Martnif moved into the house in the summer of ‘97 not ‘99.” Wow, I was a whopping 2 years off. I struggled to keep a straight face and not let my skepticism show. “So i’m sorry to burst your bubble of innocence, but your parents aren't always right.” I looked at him in his fancy suit and tie feeling dumbfounded. I was fifteen. A teenager. Of course I didn’t think my parents were always right. “Which brings me to my point.” He went on pacing back and forth before stopping and looking me dead in the eyes. “If your parents are wrong about this, then I wonder what other preconceived notions your parents filled your head with?” I sucked in a lung full of air. Mr. Montgomery nodded in my direction. It was now or never. “That she was a kind and caring woman who was down on her luck.” “That’s what your parents told you?” “Yes” “And was she?” “At first.” “What changed?” “I found out what she really was.” “And what was she, Eliza?” For the first time since the trial started I gathered all my strength and looked directly at Debbie, sitting with her lawyers. We made eye contact and she smirked up at me. “A monster.” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. It was October of 2017, and my parents decided to travel to Europe for a month leaving behind my younger sister and I. To most twelve year olds, this action was on par to high treason. I had begged, pleaded, cried, bit, spat, thrown tantrums and any other attention seeking behavior I could think of. I was never the most well behaved child to begin with, but being told my sister and I would be left in the care of our neighbor Debbie for an entire month had sent me into a destructive tail spin. I had nothing against the woman, she was an icon in our neighborhood and her fundraisers had even been featured several times on the local news. People revered her for her struggles and her strength to get through them. They held her up to almost god status. If she asked you to jump, you asked, “how high?” If she said she needed her gutters cleaned, men formed a team and emptied those gutters, along with washing her car, mowing her lawn, trimming the trees, planting flowers, and fixing a leak in the roof. There were no ulterior motives either. Yes, she was a widow, but she wasn’t Miss America or anything. People just genuinely wanted to help. When the family first moved in, years before I was even born, There was Debbie, her husband Paul, and her two sons, Jackson and James. I never knew Jackson, who was a good nine years older than me, but I'm told he was really sick for a long time. I don’t know the name of the illness he had, but it left him permanently bound in a wheelchair. As he got older, the disease progressed faster until it left him practically a vegetable. When he died at the age of nineteen, I vaguely remember bringing them a casserole with my family. I don’t know why my mother felt the need to rub salt in their wounds by presenting them with her cooking, but it’s tradition I guess. James on the other hand, was only a year older than me and had been my closest friend at one time. We’d spend the summers over at each other's houses and play in his large backyard in the trees. We’d pretend to get lost in the jungle and made up our own secret and primitive language to communicate with the “locals”, Aka the neighbors cat and the occasional grasshopper. We’d click our tongues together to signal whether the path up ahead was safe, or dangerous. One click for yes, and two for no. Sometime’s the indigionous wild tribes we’d stumble across meant us harm and we’d tap out a secret rhythm, that sounded suspiciously like the theme song to “What’s New Scooby Doo” on the nearest object to signal to our comrades behind us to back away slowly as we did the same. When it was time for lunch, Debbie would call us back with a wild howl like a wolf and James and I would traverse the wild jungle once again in search of substance. We’d drag ourselves to the picnic table, telling tales of how we barely escaped with our lives from the invisible army of tribesmen along the back wall with their spears still clutched in their hands. We’d tell Debbie how we hadn’t eaten for days and how we thought we’d never see civilization again. I had really enjoyed my afternoons over there. It was amazing that even while caring for Jackson full time, Debbie always had time to indulge us in our little made up games and make us lunch. Bad luck seemed to curse that family though. After Jackson had died when I was around seven or eight, it had only taken two years for Paul to follow suit. He had suffered a heart attack and gone peacefully in his sleep. This is when James' behaviour towards me had started to change. He was no longer the happy kid I remembered him to be. He grew cynical and criticized all of my ideas. I’d often come home in tears and soon we grew apart. By the time I was ten I had heard the terrible news. James had begun showing symptoms of the same disease that had taken his older brother. My parents commented on how terrible it must be for Debbie. She had already lost a child and her husband, now the only surviving relative looked as if he might suffer the same slow and painful death. The neighborhood had rallied together to raise funds for her for James treatment when it looked like she might be evicted. There were bake sales, yardsales, car washes, movie nights, anything anyone could come up with to help the struggling broken family. Together they had managed to raise her $15,000. That’s when she ended up on the news. No matter what travesty happened though, she always managed to keep her head up and a smile on her face. That’s why so many people seemed to admire her and I was one of them. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Debbie, but rather I don’t know how to explain it. Something didn’t feel right. The issue had never been Debbie at all that made me dread my stay. It was seeing James. No longer the fun spirited boy I once knew, but a prisoner to a disease I couldn’t possibly understand. My heart broke for him on the occasions I’d see him in his adult stroller getting loaded into the minivan her church had given her to help transport him. No longer able to climb the trees he once loved, instead he just sat there staring off into the distance. I begged my mom one more time to let me stay anywhere else as we pulled our belongings out the front door. “I don’t want to hear it.” my mom said. “We’re paying her twice the amount of anyone else to watch you.” “Why? I don’t even want to go there!” “Because she could really use the money, and we need a babysitter. It’s a win win.” “Why not just give her money and let me stay somewhere else?” “Because sometimes adults don’t want things just handed to them.” she explained. “Sometimes it feels better to earn an income than it does getting it for free.” I scrunched up my face in confusion. “I love getting things for free.” “You’re a kid. It’s different as an adult.” “Free stuff!” my little sister Lily chimed in. She was only four. “Ugh, why is Lily’s bag so heavy?” I groaned as I hoisted it up the curb. “Are you sure you’re not just leaving us there and running away forever?” “Oops, you caught me.” “Don’t joke like that!” I had never been one to show affection, hugs and kisses from mom and dad were for little kids, and I prided myself on my tough exterior. Now the sudden fear of being abandoned made me want to hug my mom and even put up with her kisses if it meant not being left here. I had always been a rowdy tom boy, my sister on the other hand was a princess. We were complete opposites. The only conclusion I could come up with was that Lily was adopted and my mother faked her pregnancy. “It’s the bag of pull ups and diapers that are so heavy.” My mom said while a plastic princess potty was tucked under one arm. “She’s going to be in diapers until highschool.” I said. There was one thing my sister and I did have in common though. We were stubborn. If there was something we didn’t want to do, we put our foot down and wouldn’t budge. Potty training hadn’t been on Lily’s priority list it seemed, despite already being four. We had just finally managed to get her into pull ups instead of diapers, but when my mom had commented the other night about how leaving might make her backslide, I was pissed. They already treated me like Lily’s live-in babysitter. This was the fifth time we had managed to get her into pull-ups but it felt like something as simple as a cold, a change in schedule, or a shift in the wind made her regress. Guess who got stuck with 75% of the work when I got home from school. Me. If my mom and dad were leaving knowing full well it was going to make Lily go back to diapers again, they could deal with the consequences. I was done. “Please behave yourself.” my mom said before she set everything down to ring the doorbell. I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious, I don’t want you giving this poor woman any attitude. She has enough to deal with without your snark.” Was my mom trying to pick a fight because it sounded to me like she was trying to pick a fight. I was already in a foul mood at being forced to come here and here she was trying to twist the knife. She quickly plastered on a fake smile as Debbie answered the door, who beckoned us in with an equally cheesy grin. We set all our stuff by the door, three full suitcases, and followed her around the house. It was a little different than I remembered, but not by much. Some of the appliances had been upgraded, there was no longer a bathtub but a walk in shower, and the porch and backyard had ramps. I took a moment to admire the large flat screen television in the living room, that definitely hadn’t been there the last time I had been over. I remembered sitting with James on the carpet watching cartoons after school on their old bulky Sony television from the 90’s that sat in the hutch. I used to give him a hard time because it still had a VCR connected to it instead of a Dvd player. I didn’t really understand how strapped for cash they were with Jackson’s medical bills. I had only seen his brother a handful of times, despite this place once having been a second home to me. He had been bedridden, and his room had been strictly off limits. I sat on the leather couch, another new addition, and surveyed my new prison while my mom and Lily stood in the hall talking. “If she gives you any trouble feel free to smack her.” I heard my mom say. I thought they were talking about Lily, until I heard Debbie’s response. “I can’t imagine her being any trouble. She was always so well behaved and such a delight to have around.” My mom let out a bark of laughter. “That was pre-hormones.” That seemed to be all she needed to explain for Debbie to understand because that’s all my mom had to say about me before rattling off Lily’s schedule. I had almost completely zoned out before I heard my mom say, “Don’t worry about changing diapers, Eliza can take care of all that.” Before I could stop myself, I was on my feet and storming over to set the record straight. “I am not changing Lily’s diapers!” My mother glared at me, but I held my ground. “What’s the point of hiring a babysitter if you still expect me to do all the work?” “Eliza!” my mother hissed. “I’m so sorry, Debbie, like I said, if she mouths off, you have my permission to punish her however you think is best. I’m sure it won’t come to that though because her attitude is going to stop. This. Instant. Isn’t it?” She finished her last sentence glaring daggers at me. “It’s not a problem.” Debbie replied, raising and lowering her hands to try and calm us down. “Of course I don’t expect you to change diapers, sweetie.” She told me. I relaxed almost at once. “She won’t even need pull-ups by the time you pick her up.” I doubted that, but I appreciated her optimistic demeanor. My mom also looked skeptical. “We’ve been trying all year, but…” My mom trailed off. There had been talk of getting Lily tested for autism. My mom had said Lily was a little slower than other kids her age, but I had nothing to compare her to. Lily was just Lily to me. Debbie still insisted she could handle it. When I watched my mom leave, my insides were a convoluted mess of emotions which fought each other for dominance. I didn’t know whether to celebrate or break down and cry. I was angry, hurt, happy and depressed all at once. I realized I must have been staring at the front door longer than necessary when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “A month will pass in no time, sweetie. You’re going to have so much fun you won’t even notice they’re gone.” She leaned down to whisper in my ear, and my face scrunched in pain and confusion as I felt fingernails digging into my shoulder blades. “Now I know you won’t be giving me any trouble this month, will you?” Her voice was no longer sweet and syrupy. I swallowed and sucked in my breath. “No.” “No, what?” “No, ma’am.” “That’s what I like to hear.” All at once the pain and pressure in my shoulders dissipated, and her voice returned to its normal upbeat and chipper tone. “Now why don’t you be the sweet girl I remember and take your sister outback and play.”

A message from Personalias: Dear Patrons, I know you signed up for this Patreon in order to get some exclusive and original Personalias ABDL stories. The problem is that I’m exhausted. With the search for a new job and trying to meet deadlines, I’ve hit a serious case of writer’s block. But, with permission, I have a story from a secondary source and they’ve allowed me to share it with you at their own expense. This didn’t originally have a title, as the author prefers not to use titles in their work, but I have chosen to tentatively name it: Run Away My name is Alice. I can’t promise you that that is my real name, my True Name, but it’s what you can call me. I also can’t tell you much else about my particulars. I can’t tell you where I live, or where I was born, or how old I am. I can’t tell you if I have any brothers or sisters or if I’m an only child. Just skip all the icebreakers. Skip all of it. I can’t even tell you my last name. Because if I did, They might find me. They might find me and drag me back, clicking their tongues and shaking their heads as I screamed and did everything I could to kill myself before we got There. And I’d never, ever, be free again. If you’re reading this, you’re in danger. No, it’s not a curse. You’re in danger even if you’re not reading this. Every person who isn’t locked safely behind iron bars, or with an offering of milk and bread by their bed is in danger and they don’t even know it. But now you do. Or you will. Humans aren’t alone on this earth. No, we’re not being invaded. They’re already here. They’ve been here for as long as we have as far as I can tell. At least long enough that it doesn’t really matter how long. And They’re not from outer space, but They’re every bit as dangerous, every bit as alien as little green men from Mars. And They don’t live here, but They come here often enough, paying Their little visits. It’s just that every time They visit, They take someone back with Them as a souvenir. Where are They from then? Where do They go? How can They be from here and not from here? How can They visit and still be among us? How can They be alien and not from outer space? They live just outside the Real, on the edge of our vision, the place we go to when we sleep. They are gods and monsters. They are beautiful and twisted reflections of the mundane. They are the kindly ones and fair folk. They are the Fay. Every fairy tale you ever read as a kid? Completely true. Completely wrong, but still true. The particulars have gotten fucked up beyond all reason (and They like it that way), but the grand scope of what They are capable of is spot on. Among the Fay, there are wolves that can swallow you whole. You can die and be brought back by a kiss. Beanstalks lead to castles in the clouds and you can fly if you’re happy enough. And by the time you get out, if you get out, our own predictable little world with its 24/7 media blitz, and natural disasters, and plane crashes, and suicides and murders all broadcast live on Facebook? It all seems so quaint. So quiet. So dull. Peaceful. I’ve been back for about a year. I don’t remember how I escaped. Not yet. That’s another thing. My memory has become all swiss-cheesy since I came back. Sometimes I can’t remember anything at all and It all fades away like some kind of fucked up dream. Maybe I was never taken. Other days I get flashbacks so intense that I wonder if I ever really got away. Maybe I’ll get done typing this all out and then a pair of ivy green hands, Her hands, will cover my eyes, whispering gibberish and telling me what a silly little girl I am. (please no…) That’s one of the reasons I’ve decided to write this all down. To keep track of the memories as they come back to me. To piece together the events. To tell my story. To make the nightmares that still haunt me go away by putting them on a computer screen. And to let people know. To warn them. To warn you. Why am I writing this down, you ask? If I have proof, why don’t I just go show someone the proof or find someone who will believe me? I’ve tried. It didn’t work. No one believes me. Everytime I tell somebody and start to explain, their eyes start to glaze over. Mundane people smile and nod as I tell them all the shit I’ve been through, but that’s it. Smiling and nodding. Just smiling and nodding. In one ear and out the other like I’m speaking in tongues or babbling like a mad person (or a baby). Best case scenario? I get a “That’s nice dear” or a “How creative!” I’ve even tried lifting my hair back and showing them my ears, and all I’ve ever gotten was a “How cute” and a “cootchie-cootchie-coo.” Last month I tried my luck with a tabloid “reporter.” When I was done he blinked and looked around, asking me where my parents were. I snatched his laptop and all he’d had typed down was “Once Upon A Time” over and over again. So this? This is my last resort. Whatever weird shit followed me back only seems to work in person. I type things out, and at the very least people register what was written and don’t go braindead on me. I’m not crazy. Or if I am, that doesn’t make my story any less true. Believe me. Please. Here goes nothing. Gods I hope this works. I don’t believe in repressed memories. At least not in the bullshit way that always shows up on movies and T.V. I don’t think I’m ever going to to sit on a couch, look at a swinging watch and then suddenly remember all this bullshit that happened to me. I don’t think my mind just lost time and I made myself forget to cover up all the trauma I’ve been through. Last year I woke up in an alleyway, in the rain, covered in shit and piss. I was wearing a raggedy smock that was supposed to be a dress, baby booties, and bonnet. The dress used to be pink. My ass was hanging out in the wind. I was in a strange city that I’d never been to in my life and I was clutching a broken and battered silk top hat. I was cold and hot at the same time. Teeth chattering and burning up. If some stranger hadn’t found me after the big ball came down, I would have died. You think I wouldn’t forget that if I could? Don’t you think I’d want to just wake up in the pysch ward of the hospital, wondering why I’d lost close to five years of my life? That’d be a lot easier than the shards of what I’ve got. Amnesia is better than hallucinations. Repressed memories means I could get on with my life. I could buy that I’m just some Jane Doe that had a mental breakdown. I could make-believe that I’m sick. I could pretend that my life wasn’t stolen from me. I might even have a shot at being happy. But I’m not. And everytime I look in the mirror, I see the evidence plain as day. And way way too often I see people that got left behind when I close my eyes. People that I knew. People that helped me survive. People that meant something to me. So no, I don’t believe in “repressed memories.” It’s bullshit. But I do believe in shock and trauma. I do believe that it’s possible for someone to get so unbelievably fucked up that their brain glitches and shit gets filed away in the wrong cabinet. I believe in gaslighting. I believe it’s possible for someone to intentionally lie to you, or drug you, or otherwise fuck your brain up to the point where what you’re experiencing isn’t what really happened. I also believe that magic can make you forget. I believe that I was made to forget something. They don’t want me warning you. They don’t want me exposing Them. She doesn’t want me to tell you Her secrets. Fuck Her. Fuck all of Them. I don’t remember how I was taken. I just know I was. No one goes There by accident. No one I’ve met, anyways. Their gates are too guarded. Their stronghold’s too secure. They can peel back the curtain of the Real, but it wafts only for Them. I can’t say that They don’t like uninvited playthings. They just don’t get uninvited playthings. All are welcome to the Fay. Either that or only the welcome ones ever make it to There. I’m not sure and I don’t want to know. What I do know is that spiders creep me out and they didn’t use to. What I do know is that I didn’t go There willingly. I’m sure of it. They might have taken me in my sleep or come into my house and yanked me out of my bed before I drifted off. I might have gotten snatched off the streets. I might have wandered into a dark corner of the wrong damn house on the wrong damn night. When I close my eyes and dream, I remember stories of all four. Not to me, though. To others like me. That’s the other thing. I was taken. But I was very rarely ever alone.beyond the real I don’t remember how I got There, to the Land Beyond the Real; I just remember waking up already there. I coughed myself awake, feeling like my lungs were full of cotton candy. My breath had this sickly sweet sugary taste to it that itched at my tongue and hurt the back of my teeth, like every breath drilled into some cavity that I hadn’t known I had before. Breathing through my nose wasn’t an option. Mouth was bad, but nose was worse. Something inside me tickled at my nostrils every time I tried. Inhale? Exhale? It didn’t matter. Everytime I breathed in, I’d feel that tickle rush up my nose and jolt to the back of my skull so that the exhale came out as this stuttering whispering laugh. When I breathed out, it still tickled. My laughter just came out in shorter raspier gasps so that I had to inhale the cotton air through my mouth if I wanted anything at all. I laughed and it hurt. That’s how I knew I wasn’t dead. I opened my eyes and had squint them shut again. So bright, like staring into the sun! On reflex I tried to shield my vision, rub my eyes, but I couldn’t move my arms. They were pinned against my side. My legs kicked but barely moved an inch. Whatever my arms were wrapped up in was also encasing them. My head was a lead weight, unable to move. It felt like I was in a whole-body straight jacket. If it wasn’t for my face, I would have thought I was mummified. And all around me was a field of white. Bright white lights in a bright white ceiling. At the edge of my vision were walls and a rim that I couldn’t quite see over. Trapped in an alabaster coffin. It wasn’t just that I was tied up in something that made it hard to move. I hurt from more than the tickling candy air. I was in pain; an aching tired pain. Imagine doing the Iditarod, but you were the dog. You were the only dog, the musher was Jabba the Hutt, and Jabba saw no reason not to use a whip to speed you along. It was a little like that. Skin screamed. Muscles cried. Even the light had a kind of weight pressing down on me. Crushing me. And it was all weight, but no heat. Even wrapped up, I felt a shiver down to the marrow. Just then, existing hurt so much that I almost wished that the lid on my mummy case would have slammed shut. Sometimes, I still wish that. I cried out for help. I screamed. Not even words, I just wailed, hoping someone would hear me. Rescue me. The air and the light worked against me. Muffled my screams so that even as my throat rattled, barely a whisper came out. It was barely a whisper, but for some reason I heard an echo. A rasping whispy sound. I screamed again. And again. And again. The echoes sounded off. Again. And again. And again. No one came. No one was coming. I was going to die here. Out of breath, I stopped screaming. But the echoes kept going on. Then words. “Heeeeeeeeeeelp!” It was hard to hear, but I did. “Heeeeeeeeelp meeeeee!” That was when I realized I wasn’t alone. Those weren’t echoes I was hearing. Those were other people. “I” was “we.” And “we” were not alone. A shadow passed above me on the ceiling, the first bit of not-white that I’d witnessed since I’d woken up. It was shaped like a person, like a man, but right away I knew something was wrong about it. The butt was too big and it didn’t glide as much as it crawled, like literally crawled on its hands and knees. Oh yeah, and there wasn’t a person attached to it. I guess I should’ve opened with that. The shadow stopped on the spot directly above me, blocking out a bit of light, and looked at me. Tiny pin pricks of light made up its eyes, and a bright gap made up its smiling mouth. It crawled to just above my head and did its level best to point at me. I heard a voice. Not a raspy rattling cry. A voice. “Look what I found, Mommy!” Two hands grasped the edge of my container. A head joined them. I was looking at a man. Or a boy. It was hard to tell. He had a mess of curly light brown hair, the color of dying autumn leaves. More than just the color of leaves, there were actual leaves in his hair! His face was smooth and childish. He could have been barely eighteen, or he could have been close to forty. The kind of face that gets carded long after twenty-one. It was that hard to tell. A real case of “babyface”. His eyes matched his hair, and when I looked into them I saw a kind of sadness that didn’t match the silly grin. Thinking back on it, it reminds me of a doctor who has to give the awkward news that has to explain that the surgery didn’t go as planned. Sorry for your loss. Maybe I’m just projecting. The boy wasn’t alone. Standing over him, over both of us, was an alien. That was my first guess, anyway. I wasn’t dead, I’d been abducted by aliens, and now I was in shipping containers and was about to get probed and dissected. If you’d been there, you wouldn’t have laughed. How many green people do you know? Ivy green. Emerald green. Hulk green. With yellow slitted eyes, like cats’ eyes, just to add an extra level of inhuman. Her arms were a little too skinny. Her breasts were a little too big. Her hair a little too stiff and her nose a little too small. Nothing too off-putting, just a little too...everything. Uncanny valley stuff. Barbie ratios. Another scream got ready to rattle up in my throat, but it stopped short when she opened her mouth. I’ll never forget that fucking voice. “Yes, darling. It’s a baby.” The voice was perfect. Disney Princess Perfect. Heroin for my ears. It was sweet and loving and sincere and meant everything to me just then. “Mother” is the name of God on the lips and hearts of children. Just then, I was a child. Hearing Her speak, I knew. She was Mother. She was God. Her dress seemed to be made of leaves, only each leaf was made of sparkling emeralds. Each row layered onto the next like feathers. This was a Mother. This was God. “Like me?” The boy with leaves in his hair asked. She laughed. Her laughter was a song. “Oh no, silly boy. You’re a baby boy. This is a baby girl.” “What’s the difference?” “Nothing you need to worry about, sweet boy.” I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “Can I see her?” The Green Lady popped out of sight, just long enough to bend over and pick up the man who’d called her “Mommy.” He was wearing green too, but it was a darker green. Forest Green. Camouflage green. Old pea soup green. His shirt wrapped around between his legs like a kind of unitard. I saw his hairless thighs wrapped around Her waist and his shoeless feet crisscrossing over each other. Cute. I barely noticed the slight bulge around his crotch and ass, or that there were crinkled frills in the leg holes of his underwear poking out from the unitard. I noticed, but I barely noticed. And I didn’t connect the dots. Even with Her calling him “baby boy,” I didn’t think “onesie” and “diaper.” If you hear hoofbeats in Central Park, you don’t expect zebras. It might have been that the proportions were off too. Everything still hurt, but I could still see well enough. Baby or not, he was about the same size as me. He was riding on Her hip, but he wasn’t that much smaller than Her. So yeah. Unitard and puffy underwear. Not onesie and diaper. “She’th pretty,” he said. “Can we keep her?” I remember how her mouth twitched to the side looking down at me. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think you might be too little to have a baby sister. What if we left her-?” “But if we leave her here, she’ll Doll!” His spine was straight. Real panic was in his voice. “Don’t let her Doll, Mommy!” “That’s a good idea!” Even with them talking over me, the most I could manage was a quiet giggle-scream from my box. According to my body, everything hurt. According to the air and the sound of Her voice, everything tickled and was good. My overwhelmed brain and body compromised and met somewhere in the middle. “We can let her Doll, and then you can practice with her. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll get you a Real baby sister.” “But I don’t want a Real baby thithter later!” His voice was shaky. A toddler on the verge of a tantrum. “I want her now!” More musical laughter. Condescending, knowing, demeaning laughter. Laughter that I’d get used to in time. “I don’t know...” Her teeth were perfectly white in that teasing smile looking down at me, her cats’ eyes sparkling like the leaves on her dress, winking. He relaxed. He knew it was a game too. He nuzzled into her neck, buried his head into her shoulder. “Pleeeeeeeeeathe!” That’s how my fate was sealed. “Well….all right,” she said. “But Mommy has to put you down for a minute.” The boy went away, but only for a second. His hands grasped the edge of my box and pulled his face back up to meet me. “Hi,” he whispered to me. “You’re welcome,” he said. But, again in a whisper, he added, “I’m sorry.” The Green Lady bent over and scooped her arms under me. She really wasn’t much bigger than me, but She was so much stronger. One arm under my legs, the other under my shoulders, She cradled me up and out of my container. Easy. For the first time since I woke up, I was out of the box. For the first time, I got the slightest hint of the world I was in. Other Women, purple, and yellow, and grey, stood over Their own boxes. They had fins for hair, or scaly skin, or cat tails that swished behind Them. And every one of Them was holding something. Cradling someone. I only saw them for a few seconds, but I saw them. It didn’t take much for me to figure out what I looked like, too. We were all the same. We had been in cots. We were swaddled in white spider-web thick sheets. And we were being coddled, cuddled, and cradled by these Women-who-weren’t. The Green Lady twisted me and turned me as easily as if I were a carnival teddy. I might have been clumsy to hold, but I wasn’t heavy to Her. The sparkling leaves of Her dress parted on their own as I was turned. No hands required. In front of me now was an emerald green breast, a slightly darker green nipple poking out. It came in closer as She forced my face into Her disproportionate chest. Even an idiot could tell what she wanted, but something told me not to give in and I managed to twist my head an inch or two to the side, feeling Her tit brush against the edge of my cheek. Survival instinct? Death wish? I don’t know. Something inside me screamed “This is wrong” and for a little while, I listened. She cooed to me, encouraging me without words. Jiggled me. Jostled me. Made slurping noises for me to imitate. “Don’t go Doll.” I heard a voice say. The boy’s. “Don’t go Doll.” Around me I heard soft moans. Other prisoners were already partaking. “Please!” A single drop of yellowish white liquid dripped out from Her nipple. Even through the cotton candy air I could almost taste it. But I was stubborn. I closed my mouth, damned the pain, and held my breath. Another brush against my face. I could feel the stuff on my cheek. Instant heat. Instant strength absorbing through my skin. My whole body tensed. Biceps flexed. Teeth gritted. Knees locked. Locked, but didn’t touch. Something was keeping them apart. My lungs gave up before my will did and I inhaled through my nose, again damning the pain. I smelled it. Smelled the milk. Smelled Her milk. Shark. Blood. Water. Mouth open, I latched on and began. Every need, every desire I’d ever felt or imagined filled me with that sniff. I was hungry and thirsty and cold and hot and jonesing for a fix and bored and tired and scared and lonely and...horny. Gods, was I horny! And the cure for all of it was in my mouth. Life. Life filled me up. The cold of the air went away as I sucked on the Green Lady’s tit. My skin was glowing. Buzzing. The aches in my body went away. Not ceasing to exist or becoming numb, like with aspirin. It was more like an internal massage, with tiny hands beating the pain out of me with every gulp. The thick, grainy smell of the air cleared away and only the scents of flesh and milk- life- was left. Then there was the taste. What was it like? Imagine. Imagine the best food you’ve ever tasted. The five hundred dollar japanese wagu beef with a side order of lobster. World class sushi and chocolate truffles fit for a queen. Now imagine your favorite guilty pleasure comfort food. The greasy cheeseburger from that one restaurant that you swear you never eat at. The frozen grocery store microwave mac and cheese that you love to eat when you’re sick, or just feeling insecure Combine all of that with the feeling of being just the right amount of drunk and magically knowing that you’re not going to be hungover in the morning AND the feeling of self-righteous smugness when you decide to be “good” so you order a salad for dinner AND the feeling of treating yourself to chocolate cheesecake because you’ve been “so good” AND somehow knowing that you’re not going to gain a pound from any of it. It’s like that. But better. Never wanting to be full again. Wanting to be filled. Afraid I’d never ever be full. Time stopped. I forgot everything in that moment. There was no more “Alice.” No more “I.” No more anything but want and desire and body heat beating of my heart trying to sync with Hers. It wasn’t until I was nearing climax that “I” even thought of myself as “I.” Just the tingling teasing and pressure building needing to be filled, teasing-taunting-touching me. And then I screamed as my panties flooded and everything inside me buzzed. “MOMMY!” I was having the most intense orgasm that I’d ever had in my life. My eyes rolled back in my head. I was cumming in my pants. Strength filled me and I bucked in Her arms, trying to hump the air itself as I was wracked. I was screaming. It wasn’t the same breathy gasping scream that I’d barely managed before. I was shouting my lungs out. I’d never screamed this loud during an orgasm before. I’d never even screamed this loud when I was faking it. Her milk...Her milk had given me strength...given me life. Given me the most intense sexual experience that I’d ever had in my entire adult life. I was cumming and screaming into this Woman’s...Mommy’s tit, and I didn’t care. I just kept suckling and suckling and suckling, trying to drain her dry. I bit into Her. Tried to draw more of Her into me. Eating and still hungering. Cumming and still wanting more. I didn’t care or notice that no matter how turned on I was, it wasn’t enough. I didn’t care that the moisture between my legs was being wicked away even as my body slickened itself. I didn’t care that as I bit down into Her, no blood rushed into my mouth. I didn’t care that I could feel my teeth sinking further and further back into my gums with every bite and every gulp. I didn’t care that I was unteething. (Gods, that seems even weirder in print.) The Green Lady was Mommy. Mommy was God. This was Holy Communion. Sweeter than any wine shed for me. More nourishing than any bread broken for my sins. Her Milk filled me up more than anything ever had before. And it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t the only one going through this. It was an orgy of sorts. All of us, swaddled and nursing. Screaming and cumming right there on the spot in the arms of monsters. None of us caring. None of us thinking about the other or caring about the other’s existence. I wasn’t, anyway. We were all too busy filling up on Life Itself. Bucking and squirming and trying to find any position where we could dry hump the air or rub up against the Women holding us, just to get that little extra bit of release. Then something else felt full. My bladder. No hesitation. I let go, feeling the warmth flood my pants. Beyond reason. Beyond caring. It didn’t feel good to hold it in. And I wanted to feel good. The warmth. The warmth felt good. I waited to feel the piss trickle onto my thigh and drip down my leg into the rest of the spider-web wrapping. The warm dampness spread out, creeping along my ass before splashing back towards my front. My pee soaked all into my pants, but never went further. Just like with my orgasm, the intense sensation of wetness lasted only as long as my stream did. It got soaked up, my panties started swelling like a sponge. That’s when it clicked. I hadn’t cum in my pants. I hadn’t pissed my pants. Because technically, I wasn’t wearing pants. No panties, either. I felt Mommy’s hand patting my bum, giving it gentle but firm swats. Just firm enough so that I could feel it. Just hard enough so that I could hear the dull padded thud. I squirmed a bit, trying (and failing) to press my legs together though the bulky padding wrapped around my ass.. I could barely hear the crinkle. But I heard it. “Good girl,” She said. “Good baby.” Gods damnit. I couldn’t stop smiling. The last bits of ecstasy started to fade, as the wet sopping mess clung to me; starting to cool. Starting to squish. The room went upright as the Green Lady turned me vertical. Heavy thuds on my back. War drums. I shook. “Come on,” Mommy coaxed me. “Give Mommy Dearest a burp.” I belched. Like I was told. Like a good girl. “Good baby. Now come along. Come with Mommy.” Toothless, exhausted, and stewing in my own piss, I wilted in Her arms, too tired to fully understand my situation. The little boy who wasn’t so little crawled on Her left. His shadow, still smiling with little pinpricks of starlight, crawled on the right. And just as I was starting to lose consciousness, feeling doomed, I saw all the others like me, in the arms of gods and monsters, being burped and carried off into a starless, moonless night. A ritual completed. I also saw the others. The ones who weren’t picked; staying in their cots. Their alabaster coffins. The last thing I saw before I faded out were those unlucky few. Their breathing becoming more labored. Their eyes becoming glassy. Their lips puckering. Begging for milk. Begging for life. Their skin becoming pale and hard and brittle. Like porcelain. Like Dolls. And that was just the beginning. I don’t know if I’m at the end of my story, yet. Maybe if I write this down, share it with you and warn enough people, I’ll get that happy ending I’ve been wanting so badly. Maybe if I write it all down, pieces will start coming together and I’ll get back all that lost time that I’m missing. Maybe if I turn it into a story, a True Fairy Tale, They’ll stop having so much power. Maybe the nightmares will stop. Maybe... -Alice