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  1. Warning! This story contains massive spoilers for the magnus archives podcast... you've been warned. "Open up! FBI! OPEN UP!" Amandas heart raced as she aimed her gun at the door. Around her a swat team and some of her fellow agents prepared to capture or kill the suspect. The suspect in question was one Robert Leymon. A serial killer who had killed up to 5 women all in prominent positions. From Deans to CEOs. They hadn't even known to look at him, if not for anonymous tip. No one answered and she gave a nod to the swat team to go ahead. Yet as they broke in she saw what looked by spiders silk before a soft "click" sound. Before she could even warn them an explosion of fire and death hit her team and luanched her backwards into her own car. She had to get up. She had to get up! Her head rang and her body was shaking but she did manage to stand up. Limping she checked for survivers and found none. How had they not seen the trap? They'd checked the place 3 times for any bombs... how had they missed it? "Over here little girl." A voice called out. It took Amanda a few moments to recognize the voice. It was robert leymon. She pulled out her gun yet what she saw made her puase. A birthday table that had not been their earlier had somehow appeared in a centor of corpses held up by string... no webs. "Put the gun away little girl." Amanda was about to put a bullet in the murderer's skull consequences but instead she felt her hand throw the gun away. What the hell? She hadn't wanted to do that. "Good girl! Guns are for big boys not girls." Then he motioned for her to sit in what was clearly a high chair. Albiet one clearly sized for a women rather then a child. At the words "good girl" her mind was flooded witj a foreign sense of pride. She was starting to become scared. That feeling of being scared turned to terror as she felt her legs move against her will towards that bright pink highchair. Eventually she found herself sat in the infantile furniture. "Good we have a few minutes before the archivist completes his ritual. Enough time for a dumb girl like you to eat a yummy cake." She looked at cake with disgust. The thing was an abomination of sweetness. Somehow it was made of everything she hated. The top was layered with snickers. The cake itself was angel food cake and the frosting was pink ice cream. Yet, once again she found her body forced to obey this mans wims as she gobbled up the cake. Tears streaming down her face as her mouth became a mess of sugery slush. Each time her hands greedily grabbed for more she begged them to stop and with mounting terror she realized they would not. The dead bodies somehow were always turned to face her. To judge her. Here she was eating cake with the seeming abandon of a toddler while all around her the corpses of her friends lay dead. Their murderer simply smirked and told her empty false attempts at consoling her. Telling her how she would never become fat. How she would not age. Then an archivist on a whole other continent read a statement from his boss and the world changed.
  2. Well, here goes. I've been a lurker on this site for quite some time, and whilst I've enjoyed reading a great many of the stories people have posted here, I've struggled to pick up a metaphorical pen and write something myself. Whilst I never struggle for ideas, motivating myself to sit down and actually flesh them out into actual stories has always been a problem for me. Now though, I've got something written and edited to where I'm comfortable sharing it. This isn't the first bit of ABDL fiction I've ever written, but it is the first I've published here. So, without letting this awkward ramble go on any longer, here's chapter 1 of Breaking Ground. A fanfic set in the same world as @Little Sherri's Shifting Sands. Written with very kind permission from the author. Any and all feedback, criticism, advice and even suggestions would be greatly welcomed. Breaking Ground Chapter 1 - Stranger in a Strange Land “George? Earth to George, we’re here buddy.” The boy in question pulled his face up from where it had been buried in the backlit screen of his Nintendo 3DS. He’d been too busy losing himself in the game to hear the voice of his godmother. Or even realise that the car had stopped moving. Hastily, he slid the plastic stylus he’d been using to dictate battle commands back into the slot on the back of the console and closed the screen, the colourful, pixelated Pokémon adventure cutting to instant black. “Sorry.” He spoke quietly as he sheepishly slid the metallic blue rectangle into the pocket of his jeans and met her expectant gaze in the driver's mirror. Blue eyes looked at him as he fumbled to undo the seatbelt and shuffle over towards the door of the absurdly large SUV to pull on the handle and let himself out, only to find it wouldn’t budge. It took him another try to realise that just shoving wasn’t going to accomplish anything as he looked around for what was keeping him locked in, as his godmother let herself out without issue and moved over to the back passenger side of the car. With a click, the mystery was answered, as the little lock thingy on the door popped up, and George felt a little embarrassed that he’d not realised the child lock was engaged. Did she really need to use that? He wasn’t some toddler. There was a soft clunk as the door pulled open and George was free to leave, swinging his legs around and half jumping out of the car onto the pavement next to the spot they’d parked in. Or sidewalk, as everyone else here would call it. “Let's go.” His guardian smiled reassuringly at him in the way adults do when they’re trying to get you to think something won’t be a big deal, but never really make you feel any better. She’d slipped a pair of sunglasses on, and George was starting to wish he’d said yes when she’d offered to bring him a pair when they’d left the house. Alice – it was always Alice, she insisted he not call her Mrs Warding – had dressed for the hot summer weather in a pair of bright blue jeans and a light grey tank top. George was dressed in jeans as well, along with a plain green shirt that fitted snugly enough under the jeans that he didn’t need to bother with a belt. Both items of clothing were brand new. He’d ripped the tags off them himself just this morning. He’d been rather surprised to discover them, and an entire wardrobe’s worth of new clothes waiting for him when he’d arrived at Alice’s home two days ago. Between the new clothes, the fancy car, the massive house and idyllic suburb it resided in, one thing had become clear to George in his short time spent in her care – his godmother was absolutely loaded. It wasn’t a total surprise to discover that. He’d never had much of an interest or knowledge of his mother's circle of friends, least of all one whom he’d never really met before and who lived on the other side of the world. But he’d picked up enough to know that she was some successful businessperson of some sort. Now, it was his mother who was now on the other side of the world and felt so distant from him, even after just a few days. He raised up a hand to shield the worst of the sun's gaze as he followed along besides Alice. He stuck close beside her, in a manner perhaps not quite befitting an eleven-year-old boy as they passed by a few buildings towards their destination. George knew that he should probably be more excited to be here, but recent events had dampened his attitude somewhat. When his mum had first floated the idea of him spending the summer holidays in America with his godmother, he had jumped at the idea. Sure, he didn’t really know Alice, but she was someone that his mother trusted. And any further concerns were overshadowed by the amazing prospect of escaping to a whole other country for seven weeks. For George, the chance to swap another dull and dreary summer in Northern England, for somewhere as cool as the States was a no-brainer. Any of his peers or friends would have jumped at the chance to go. What George hadn’t counted on was that Washington State was a ten-hour flight from London, which had meant an additional domestic flight to deal with to get down south. Multiple flights, stopovers, and half the day spent listening to the drone of engines had combined with acute jetlag to make George very tired and somewhat grouchy by the time it was all over. Alice had taken it in stride, but George could tell at the time that even she was strained by the days travel, and he’d been glad to simply be driven to his new home for the summer and stumble into bed, not even bothering to change clothes before falling asleep in the middle of the Cascadian day. What he’d woken up to in the middle of the night, and the night again after that, was the reason they were out shopping now. “Um, Alice.... Alice.” He repeated himself to grab her attention as they got towards the automatic doors to the convenience store. “Everything ok George?” “I just, uh. Well, do we have to?” He asked, smiling and pleading for his sentence to be reconsidered. “I’m really sorry. I swear it's never happened before, like ever. It was probably just all the jetlag, and all the coke I had with dinner, right? I don’t really need to bother with all of this...” He trailed off and started blushing, afraid of speaking any louder with strangers around or getting into specifics. Alice smiled and leaned down slightly to give his shoulder a squeeze. “Hey, it's not a big deal buddy, I promise. And you definitely don’t need to be sorry about it. These things happen, alright?” “But- “Buts are for ashtrays, as my grandmother used to say. You’re not in trouble for anything George, is that what’s bothering you?” She asked, concern in her voice. George knew this wasn’t him being in trouble and getting punished for it. But that wasn’t the point. He didn’t need this. They didn’t need to be here. “No...” He mumbled. He wished he could go back to the Pokémon gym battle that had taken his mind off things for the drive over here. “I know you think this is embarrassing. That’s ok. But you really don’t need to be. You’re far from the only boy in the world dealing with it. Now come on, the sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and we can go get a burger for lunch afterwards. Sound good?” She tried to tempt him. George managed a small smile at the offer. That did sound good. They practically never ate out at home. Mostly because his mom always fussed over his diet being high enough in fat and sodium already. Alice didn’t give him the chance to hesitate further, as she walked through into the store, and George followed, quickly stepping out of the way of a large man pushing a full shopping cart coming the other way. Having narrowly avoided getting his toes crushed, he realised that this probably wasn’t the best place to try and restart an argument about the necessity of this trip. His well-worn white and grey trainers squeaked slightly on the dull red-and-black-chequered tiling on the floor as he caught up to Alice, who had already acquired a red plastic basket from a nearby stack and slung it over her arm. He didn’t say anything further as he walked beside her down the main artery of the store. It was a local convenience place, not one of the big American chains. Or at least not one George had ever heard of. Still, it was a store, and since this trip was meant to be for him, he didn’t pull his game out of his pocket but instead settled for letting his eyes wander over the rows of shelves and occasionally the people who roamed them. Window shopping was perhaps one of the dullest forms of entertainment a boy like Geroge could imagine, but his circumstances at least made this occasion interesting. The many unfamiliar brands and names, stuff he’d only ever heard of like Twinkies, or stuff they never really got a lot of back home, like pop tarts. And stuff he was plenty familiar with, especially as they passed the crisp aisle and a half dozen familiar brands could be seen. At one point they passed what seemed to be an entire row dedicated to peanut butter, and George couldn’t help but wonder who could possibly need so many flavours and versions of the stuff. The food section came to an end as they entered an aisle offering fishing gear, tools, batteries, and other such supplies. It reminded him of the one rather miserable camping experience he’d had in his life – A rain and mud filled weekend spent in a freezing forest with a few other unfortunate members of the local Boy's Brigade chapter. It had been advertised as an adventure, but George mostly remembered the unending rain that soaked them to the skin and the portable stove that never seemed to stay on. Now he was with Alice, he wondered if a camping trip was something she might have planned for them. He knew there were a lot of woods and wilderness around this part of the country. It took so long to get to where they were going that it felt like it was almost deliberate. Rapidly running out of store, he felt almost like a prisoner being led to the gallows as they moved down the main aisle, with Alice as his cheery jailer. It seemed it was now or never to ask for a stay of execution. “I don’t need this.” He said quietly, a slight bitterness to his tone. Alice didn’t seem to hear. “Alice, we don’t need to -” “George, we’re right here, come on.” She reached out her hand that wasn’t cradling the basket and took his unexpectedly, her warm palm pressing into his as she pulled him down a side aisle. He felt her give him a gentle squeeze of reassurance that only served to make him feel even smaller, as he looked up and saw the wooden sign attached to the top of the shelving unit. Medicine & Hygiene Such an innocuous term still left blushes of crimson forming in his cheeks as he consciously took a breath and looked around him. He could see stacks of shampoo and bars of soap, toothpaste and toothbrushes in plastic wrappers. Various packs of pills and painkillers. Something called Tylenol, which it took him a second to remember was what they called Paracetamol over here. Cotton swabs, a few bottles of face lotion. It seemed they had a bit of everything here, and George felt his sense of dread grow as he waited to catch sight of what they had come for, and what he deduced had to be here somewhere. “Oh, here we go!” Alice sounded far too chipper for George's liking, and he looked over to see what she was looking at. Portraits of smiling toddlers and younger kids looked back at him through shiny plastic or cardboard packaging,flanked by white numbers and colourful images and patterns. “Let's see here then, what do they have?” Alice browsed for a few seconds as George developed a sudden fascination with the ingredients list on a bottle of shampoo. “They might be a bit snug, but I think these will probably fit you.” George blinked slowly, and felt his heart start to sink as he saw the pink plastic package Alice was holding out to present to him. His eyes shifted from looking at the packaging to Alice, then back again as he tried to figure out if she was joking. “These are for girls!” He blurted out. Alice tried to hand the package of Girls’ Goodnights to him, but he adamantly refused to take hold of it, letting go of her hand. He felt the heat of anger building within him. This wasn’t fair, it was total crap! He didn’t need any of this! He wasn’t a bedwetter, never had been, his entire life! It was just jet lag, or being somewhere new, or his parents' troubles, or some other bullshit. I. Don’t. Need. It. He took a shaky breath. This wasn’t fair. This was meant to be an amazing summer. A seven-week long holiday of trying cool new stuff in a cool new place. Meeting the godmother that he’d never met before, maybe make some new friends and explore a whole new world that all seemed so interesting. Instead, he’d screwed it all up on the very first night. He still felt humiliated by that episode, and thinking more intently about it was poking at a very raw psychological wound. “Sorry buddy, they don’t have a lot here that would fit you.” Alice told him. “It won’t make a difference whether it's for boys or girls, the protection is all the same.” Protection. George winced as she spoke the word. He didn’t need protection! He didn’t wet the bed! He didn’t! “I’m not wearing that.” He declared, his attempt to sound assertive betrayed by the slight shake in his voice. Alice blinked slowly and George could detect a barely audible sigh from his godmother as she leaned down to get at eye level with him. “George, look at me.” Her voice was soft, but compelling in its demands. He met her look. “I’m on your side here George. I’m trying to help solve a problem with a solution. If you had a headache, and I asked you to take a painkiller for it, would you be so reluctant to take it? Would you rather be going around with something you can fix because you’re scared to take a pill?” “I’m not scared.” He huffed. “Then what’s the issue, big guy?” He looked down at the package she was holding and hoped he wouldn’t be made to spell out the obvious. Alice continued to look at him like she was waiting on him, and with a renewed feeling of dread George realised he was going to have to say it. “They’re nappies! Girls' nappies! I'm not a baby!” He tried to sum it up in as few words as possible. Like every syllable made it more real. “George, I never said you were a baby. And acting like one in the supermarket isn’t helping anyone now, is it?” She spoke like she was talking to someone half his age. “Listen to me George. I’m trying to help you here, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me. I made a promise to your mother that I would look after you this summer, and make sure you had an amazing holiday. Now I can’t keep that promise without your help, understand?” The defiance seemed to deflate out of George as he listened to his godmother, replaced with a pang of guilt at the mention of his mother. He wasn’t privy to everything going on at home, but he wasn’t stupid either. He knew things were worse than usual right now, and part of him was suspicious that it might have something to do with why she’d so readily accepted the idea of him spending the summer in Washington. He felt obliged to nod slightly at Alice's question before she continued. “You’re meant to be having fun this summer George. And how much fun can you be having if you’re waking up to wet sheets every morning, hm? If I’m changing those sheets every morning, that’s less time for me to take you places and more time spent doing work we could avoid, isn’t it?” He felt another pang of guilt. Alice might have said she didn’t blame him for the extra laundry, but it didn’t change the fact that it was extra laundry. She was doing a lot for him, he supposed. There was no way he’d even be here if Alice wasn’t the one paying for everything. “But these are girls ones...” He protested the secondary point weakly, as he looked over at the mostly bare shelf Alice had picked the Goodnites up from. It was slim pickings. Apart from four other packs of Goodnites – all girls ones – there were a dozen or so packs of proper baby nappies in various sizes, and a solitary pack of pull-ups training pants. The cartoon smile of Dora the Explorer seemed to mock him from the soft plastic packaging. “Well, this is all they have.” Alice stated the obvious, as George moved over and began to look through the rest of the packages more closely. Spending any time at all rooting through the nappy aisle was beyond humiliating, and he couldn’t help making repeated paranoid glances down either end of the shelves in case someone was coming their way. His hopes reduced to the idea of finding some form of protection that wouldn’t completely make him die of embarrassment. Just one stupid pack of boys Goodnites. Just one. That he might at least be able to tolerate, and it would satisfy Alice’s requirements. There was nothing of the sort. The absolute best he could find was a pack of Easy-Ups training pants themed after Thomas the Tank Engine. The anthropomorphic train wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d see again after he turned five. Least of all like this. At least it wasn’t Dora. Alice must have seen him looking at the package, because she reached forward and picked that one up as well. A look crossed her face as she seemed to look over the alternative with a critical eye that quickly glanced back at George before returning to the examination. “Hm. I suppose they might work as well. They’ll probably be a bit on the snug side, but if you really don’t want to wear the Goodnites, I suppose we can give them a go.” Now George found himself looking between the Easy-Ups and the Goodnites. His godmother’s concession didn’t feel like one. It left him picking between two humiliating options and he couldn’t decide which one was worse right now. Girly Butterflies or babyish trains. He’d have to pick his poison that night it seemed. Without another word, she picked both packages up and dropped them into the basket, mercifully out of open view. They were still stuck in that part of the store however, and George found himself going right back to glancing around for other shoppers as Alice took her sweet time leisurely looking over one of the shampoo bottles. “Is that all?” George didn’t want to sound rude, but his anxiety was still waxing, his fingernails digging into his palm as he tried to prod his guardian. He didn’t want to be here a second longer than they needed to. “I was hoping we could pick up some snacks while we’re here. I saw you staring earlier, you know.” She smiled at him then motioned for him to take her hand again, which he did reluctantly. Did she think he was going to get lost here or something? As they passed back the way that had come, George caught sight of one of those cardboard signs that hung down from a shelf. It had been right on the dividing line between the nappies section and the other toiletries. The distinctive green banner of the Pampers branding looked back at him, framing a picture of a pair of the training pants hanging around the ankles of a set of disembodied lower legs that hovered slightly off the ground, clearly meant to imply the owner of the legs was sitting on the toilet that was framed behind them. Going from left to right, the picture of the training pants changed halfway through to become a pair of plain blue Y fronts with thick white rims around the waist and leg hole. The slogan, split on either side of the picture, read: “They think it's underwear. You know it's Pampers.” Ironically, the branding on the training pants in the advertisement were for something called “PJ Masks.” Which to George seemed to be a little kids superhero show, but still looked leagues less babyish than the Thomas themed ones he was now stuck with. They think it's underwear. You know it's Pampers. George felt his face burning as he read the line, and quickly forced himself to look elsewhere. It didn’t mean anything; it was just a dumb line from an advert.
  3. I wasn't planning on writing another smut but I was watching fallout and seeing the character lucy say things like "gosh" or "goly" really got my mind going and my unmentionables... but we don't talk about that. Basic premise is a vault that was never approved exists... hope yall enjoy this bit of mindless smut. ....... Nery Allbright was a survivor and a leader. Her followers had tried to spread the knowledge of science, Academics, and agriculture. Now she was on the run, vertabirds spanned the skys a symbol of a gear heralding the brotherhood of steel. She did not know what her people had done to upset them. Even now her struggling brain tried to process how all this had happend. Her mind flashed with the images of men in power armor cutting down her flock like ghouls to the sluaghter. All she could do was run, she just had to focus on running. She could grieve later. So she ran, and ran, and finally tripped as bullets fired into the ground around her. She gulped as she noticed that the only thing behind was a ravine. 5 men in power armor came out from the nearvy trees. One approached her. "Theres no were left for you to run. Hand over the relic" "What relic? What the hell are you taking about!?" She yelled/sobbed at them angrilly. "We know you have the relic. Hand it over and you will be allowed to live." She looked at them, glared at them, it didn't matter. "What relic?" She said in a defeated voice. The knight showed her an image on his pipboy. It was a toaster. "Y-you killed everyone I loved? INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO WERE JUST... FUUUUCK YOU! OVER A FUCKING TOASTER!!!???" she got louder and angrier as the realization of just what was happening dawned on her. Then she heard a strange sound. Like a buzzing. Without warning she heard little pop sounds and each sound was followed by power armor droping, vertebrae crashing, and people dying. Then she felt a sharp pain her chest and looked down to see a needle poking out of her chest. Then she fell asleep.
  4. This isn't so much a story as a short vignette. During a discussion about fan-fiction a year or two ago, rule 34 came up and we ended up arguing whether you could write a story involving diapers for any fandom. I argued in favour of this, and then somebody (I forget who) said "Fine. Robocop." And this is where we ended up. ------------------- <BANG> <SPOING> <CRASH> Everybody ducked down behind desks and filing cabinets as another projectile shot through the broken glass, hit a pipe and ricochetted into the water cooler, breaking the bottle, spilling a gallon of water onto the floor. "Shit! Anybody hurt?" Shouts of 'no' and 'not yet' rang out from around the squad room before somebody said what everybody was thinking. "Can someone put a stop to that?" Officer Anne Lewis looked out from behind a filing cabinet. Her gun was in her hand, more out of habit than necessity. She knew where the shots were coming from. They all did. Officer Alex Murphy, or Robocop as the OCP reps insisted on calling him, had had a bad night. It had started with a simple convenience store robbery, but had quickly escalated to a hostage situation. This again, had led to a car chase which had ended in a fiery crash and two dead robbers. This wouldn't have been anything too out of the ordinary except the soon-to-be crispy criminals hadn't had the good sense to steal the 6000 SUX parked just down the street from the convenience store. Instead, they had gone for the garbage truck. The crash had mangled one of Murphy's legs and torn his left forearm off. Both were easily replaced, but it was still a time-consuming process. And then, five minutes ago, they had found out that there was a problem with the nutrient paste dispenser. Lewis holstered her gun and began crawling towards the closed-off area where the OCP technicians did maintenance on Murphy. Another projectile shot through the glass partition and there was a howl of pain as it hit somebody. Lewis didn't stop to see who it was. Thankful for her body armour, she kept moving forward, broken glass scraping between the armour and the floor. She was almost at the door. She paused for a moment before pushing it open and peering inside. She could see the techs huddled behind some heavy equipment; one of them holding his shoulder where a bloody stain was slowly spreading. On what looked like a cross between a heavy-duty operating table and an industrial assembly station, Lewis could see Murphy lying face-down. His wrecked leg had already been detached and was on the floor next to the table and it looked like he had been shut down for the repairs. Just then, Murphy's body jerked and yet another bolt shot out. Man, that nutrient paste must really be fucked up. Lewis crawled under the table until she was on the other side of Murphy's body, the safe side, before standing up. She looked over at the technicians. "Now what?" she yelled. "Lewis, fetch the kevlar reinforced diapers. This is going to be a long night."
  5. Chapter I: Switch Responsibilities Rachel and Monica sit on the couch, sipping their coffees. Monica looks frazzled, while Rachel seems unusually calm. Rachel: Monica, I've been doing some thinking. I think it's time for us to take a break. Monica: A break? What are you talking about, Rach? Rachel: I can't handle all your demands and control anymore. I want you to know how it feels to be treated like a baby. Monica rolls her eyes, dismissing Rachel's idea. Monica: Oh, please! You can't possibly... As Monica finishes her sentence, Rachel pushes a pacifier into Monica’s mouth. She then takes Monica’s hand and pulls her to the restroom. Pulling out a diaper-mat and diaper out of her bag, she lays her down on the diaper mat and begins replacing her panties (which turn out to be wet), into diapers. Across town, at Maclearen’s Pub, Robin sits at the bar sipping her drink as her best friend, Lily enters. Robin: You know, Lily, now that the guys are away, I think it's time for you to experience what it's like to be treated like a baby. Lily: What? Are you serious? Like At Central Perk, Robin pushes a pacifier into Lily’s mouth, before Lily could finish her sentence. Robin: You're going to use this. Let's see how it goes. Monica and Rachel’s apartment - Phoebe enters, looks at Rachel and then at Monica and starts laughing. Rachel: What’s so funny? Phoebe: My patient, Robin told me she’s also treating her best friend like a baby this weekend Rachel: Seriously? Do you think you can schedule a playdate? Monica: (being ignored) - No, I don’t want a playdate, I’m a grown-woman! That afternoon, Rachel and Monica enter Central Perk, Monica now wearing a diaper and sucking her thumb. They spot Robin and Lily, seating with Phoebe at a nearby table. Like Monica, Lily is dressed in a diaper, and sucking a pacifier as she seats on Robin’s lap. Phobe: Oh, hey, guys! Look who I found! Rachel: So, Robin, what made you decide to treat Lily like a baby? Robin: Lily, while motherly, she has always been immature, and acts like the baby of the group. She’s also a kindergarten teacher,who always wondered what her students go through. We had agreed awhile back to give her a chance to experience childhood, in order to better connect with her students. Why are you treating Monica like a baby? Rachel: Well, Monica is way too uptight and I just felt she needed to relax a bit. Also, she’s been treating me like a kid for some time, so maybe it’s good payback. As Robin and Rachel talked, Lily suddenly said: “mommy, I’m hungry.” Like a good mother, Robin pulled out a jar of baby food and began feeding Lily. When Monica was hungry she made the mistake of saying: “Rach, I’m hungry”.. Instead of taking a baby bottle, or a jar of food to feed Monica, Rachel had a surprise for her. Rachel laid Monica down on her lap and began to breastfeed her. Not only was Monica in shock, but also were Phoebe, Robin and Lily. Rachel: I believe Monica deserves the full baby treatment. And anyways, she knows she isn’t supposed to call me Rachel. Central Park, Sunday Morning Lily and Monica in their respective strollers, one sucking her pacifier, while the other sucks her thumb. Phoebe: Alright, ladies! It's time for some outdoor fun. We're going to the park! Lily: Can we play in the sandbox, please? Robin: Of course, Lily! Go ahead, have fun! Lily and Monica quickly drop to their hands and knees and crawl into the sandbox, relishing the freedom of being carefree and childlike. Rachel: Look at them go! They're like little kids again. Robin: I have to admit, it's pretty adorable. The friends watch Lily and Monica play, their stress melting away as they embrace the simplicity of the moment. Phoebe: Monica, you look adorable with that thumb in your mouth. Are you enjoying your little baby experience? Monica: Maybe, just a little Phoebe: And you, Lily? Lily: I love being treated like a baby! Lily and Monica, exhausted from their playful adventures, lie down in the shade, using their strollers as makeshift beds. Rachel: Aw, look at them. They're tuckered out. Robin: Yeah, it's been quite the adventure for them today. Random Kid: Something smells stinky, I think those women pooped their pants Robin and Rachel check, and find that while Lily only wet herself, Monica did in fact go number 2. Like a good mother, Rachel cleans and changes Monica, while Phoebe and Robin provide a layer of privacy. Back home, Monica wakes up, only to learn that she had peed and pooped herself while sleeping. Chapter II: Monica has Issues Rachel anxiously sits in the waiting area with Monica on her lap. Monica looks unwell, her thumb still in her mouth. They are surrounded by colorful toys and child-friendly decorations. Rachel: Hang in there, Mon. The pediatrician will see you soon. Monica: I don't feel so good, Rach. I'm glad you're here with me. As the pediatrician calls them into the examination room, Rachel carries Monica and walks in, still keeping her close. The pediatrician, DR. WILSON, a kind and gentle woman, greets Rachel and Monica warmly. Dr. Wilson: Hello there! What seems to be the trouble today? Rachel: My friend, Monica has been feeling unwell lately, experiencing some discomfort. Dr. Wilson: I see. Let's have a look, shall we? Rachel helps Monica sit down on the exam table. Monica continues to suck her thumb, finding comfort in the familiar gesture. Dr. Wilson: Monica, sweetie, can you tell me where it hurts? Monica: My tummy hurts, and I don't feel good. Dr. Wilson examines Monica, checking her temperature and listening to her heartbeat. Dr. Wilson: Well, Monica, it seems like you might have caught a little bug. Nothing too serious, but we'll need to keep an eye on you. Monica: But I cannot move my legs and am having trouble going to the potty. Noticing a decline in Monica’s language with every word, Dr. Wilson explains Monica's condition to Rachel. As the two discuss Monica’s regression, Monica starts squirming uncomfortably. Monica: Mommy, I need potty Rachel: Ok Monica, give me 2 more minutes to finish the conversation with the doctor Monica: I cannot mommy, I go now. Not caring who sees, Monica sits down on a potty chair in the room with her pants still intact. Noticing this, Rachel rushes to Monica’s aid, pulling her pants down just in the nick of time. Rachel: Thank you Dr. Wilson, I’ll make sure we update you on Monica’s status. EXT. PEDIATRICIAN'S OFFICE - DAY Rachel and Monica exit the pediatrician's office, relieved that Monica's discomfort has been addressed. Rachel: See, Mon? We handled that situation like champs! As Monica sucks her thumb, she nods her head in acknowledgement to Rachel’s comment. Chapter III: Going Home As Rachel helps Monica walk home from the doctors office, it’s clear that Monica’s discomfort is once again increasingly evident. Monica: Mommy, I need potty Rachel: Oh no, not again. Can’t you hold it? Monica, sucking her thumb nods her head from side to side. Rachel: Ok, lets see if we can find you a public restroom to use. As Monica begins to cry, Rachel notices a dribble of urine coming down Monica’s leg. Noticing a drug store Rachel drags Monica into it, and locates the diaper aisle. After purchasing the diapers, Rachel takes Monica to the restroom, and removes her soiled cloths with a fresh diaper. To Monica’s horror, Rachel opens the door. Monica (in a moment of relapse): Rachel, I’m only wearing a diaper Rachel (As she turns to hug Monica): it’s either the diaper, or those soiled pair of pants Holding Rachel’s hand, Monica walks out of the bathroom, with nothing but a shirt and a diaper Random Kid: Look mommy, that woman is wearing a diaper. In the shock and overwhelming situation she now faces, Monica takes a step back as she regresses, she begins to cry and suck her thumb once again. In order to get home quickly Rachel drags Monica through the NY subway system, as they get off the subway, a block away from home, Rachel notices Monica’s diaper has been sagging a bit. Rachel: Monica, sweetie, did you have another accident? Monica stares blankly at Rachel as she sucks her thumb. Understanding that Monica has regressed farther, Rachel grabs her hand and walks home; with the understanding that neither of them has any idea what the future holds. Chapter IV: Babysat at Home The next day, Monica wakes up, not remembering what happened. She’s surprised by the fact that her thumb is in her mouth. As Monica removes her thumb from her mouth, she tries to get up, only to stumble and fall. Clearly, her legs are still not working properly… Monica: Rachel, Rachel, come help me I cannot get up. Phoebe: I’m coming Monica, one second Monica: Phoebe?! What are you doing here? Phoebe: Morning, sleepyhead! I'm here to babysit you today since Rachel had to go to work. Isn't it exciting? Monica blinks, still trying to process the situation. Monica: Babysit? But I'm not a baby, Phoebe. Phoebe: Oh, I know that, Mon, but sometimes even adults need a little extra care. Don't worry; I've got everything under control. As Phoebe helps Monica to the living room, she notices a kids potty chair. Monica: Hey, Phebs. What’s the potty chair for? Phoebe (excitedly): Well, I talked to Rachel, and she thought it would be a good idea for you to have a potty chair since we're using diapers. It's a little more grown-up than diapers, right? She Rahcel asked that you ask me whenever you need to go to the bathroom. Monica: But I’m an adult Phoebe: Are you? Really? I mean look at you? Monica didn’t even notice the wet diaper around her waist, or that she instinctively began to suck her thumb again. Mid-day Monica: I need to go potty Phoebe: ok, one second Monica: I need to go potty, now! Phoebe (walking into the living room): Uh Monica, did you go potty already? Monica looking at Phoebe and down at herself began to cry. Without thinking, Phoebe took Monica and began to change her diaper, acting as if this was all natural; and explaining that accidents happen. Seeing that Rachel and Monica were short on diapers, Phoebe got Monica and took her down stairs. Having a hard time dragging the grown adult, Phoebe decided to stop by the local Baby’s R Us and purchase a few things. With each thing on the list Monica tried to make a point she’s not a baby. Phoebe: We need diapers Monica: I’m a big kid! I go potty by myself Phoebe: Monica, you’re wearing a diaper and clearly using it for both peeing and pooping. Lets get some just in case Phoebe: We need a stroller Monica: Why? Me walk Phoebe: You asked for a piggyback ride all the way here Phoebe: and finally Pacifiers Monica shakes her head no as she sucks her thumb. On the way home with the goodies, Monica now sits in a brand new stroller, her thumb in her mouth, and a big teddy bear Phoebe got her, for being a good girl. Not far from home, they met up with Rachel, who Monica was more than happy to see. Rachel and Phoebe decided to grab a cup of coffee at Central Perk and Monica slowly drifted off to sleep in her stroller. Chapter V: Babysat at the Park That “one weekend” of babying between Lily and Robin turned into an ongoing-event. This weekend though, Robin had a late shift at work, and asked Phoebe to watch Lily for a bit. Phoebe: Hey Rachel, it’s Phoebe Rachel: Oh, Hey Phoebe what’s up Phoebe: I’m babysitting Lily today and am planning to take her to the park later. Does Monica want to come? Rachel: I’m not sure, I mean Lily is aware that she’s really an adult, and Monica, well, you know, Monica has regressed beyond her years. Phoebe: Oh come-on it’ll be fun! Rachel: fine! EXT. PARK - DAY Phoebe leads Monica and Lily through the park, enjoying the warm summer weather and the playful atmosphere. The sound of laughter and children playing fills the air. Phoebe: "Here we go, on our summer adventure, Monica and Lily, together forever!" Monica giggles, finding Phoebe's joyful spirit contagious. Lily: Phoebe, you're like the coolest babysitter ever! Phoebe: Well, thank you, little one. I always try my best! As they continue their walk, Robin arrives at the park to pick up Lily, who runs excitedly toward her. Lily: Mommy! Robin: Hey, sweetie! How was your playdate with Monica and Phoebe? Lily: Mommy, can I have my pacifier now? Robin chuckles and reaches into her bag, pulling out the pacifier. Robin: Alright, Lily. Just for a little bit longer, okay? Rember, we promised Marshall that by the time you get home, you’ll act like an adult again. And anyways, we said that you’re a toddler this weekend. Lily happily takes her pacifier, feeling comforted by its presence. INT. MONICA AND RACHEL'S APARTMENT - MONICA'S BEDROOM - Evening Monica, exhausted from the day's activities, lies down for a nap. She instinctively sucks her thumb, finding solace and comfort in the familiar gesture. Phoebe: She had a bit of an accident earlier, Rachel. I think she did a number 2 in her diaper. She seemed embarrassed and started sucking her thumb. I think she was also kind of jealous of Lily. Rachel looks concerned but also understands that accidents happen. Rachel: Poor Mon. Let her rest, Phoebe. I'll take care of her when she wakes up. INT. MONICA AND RACHEL'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - Next Day As Monica is seating on Rachel’s lap, Rachel recalls her conversation with Phoebe from last night. Rachel: Hey Monica Monica nods yes as she stares at a kiddy show infront of her. Rachel: Mon, I've been thinking. Since you've been having accidents in your diaper, maybe it's time we try something different. What if we start repotty training you? Monica: Wha? Rachel: Monica, I know you’re in there, and I need my best friend back! Monica: Mama! Rachel: I know, Mon, but accidents happen, and I believe in your ability to regain control. It's not about treating you like a baby but rather helping you become more aware of your body's signals. And I'll be here to support you every step of the way. Rachel: From now on, whenever you feel the need to go potty, you let me know. We'll work together to help you regain control. It's all about open communication. I promise only Phoebe or I will take you to the potty. Fair? Monica: Yes, mommy. Over the next few days, Monica does remember to say “potty”, but rather than before, it’s usually right when or after she had already gone. Chapter VI: Monica and Rachel accept Monica’s Fate Seating at Central Perk, with Phoebe, Robin and Lily, Rachel was bouncing Monica on her hip. Monica: Mommy, me need to go potty Robin: Rachel, I see that you’re talking to Phoebe, would you like me to take her? Rachel: Sure Monica: Only mommy Rachel: It’s ok Mon, aunt Robin will take good care of you! As Robin walking with Monica towards the restroom, she heard a loud wet fart. Turning around, Rachel saw that Monica had done a number in her pants. Rachel: Monica we talked about this, you said you wanted to be a big girl. Now, this doesn’t look like a big girl, does it? Monica sucked her thumb as she began to cry. Rachel: What should I do? Phoebe: you know my thoughts, if monica wanted to be an adult she’d at least try Robin and Lily: I agree Rachel: Monica do you want to be a big kid or a baby Monica: baby Rachel: do you know what that means Sucking her thumb Monica wobbled hear her in yes motion Understanding Monica’s desires and state of her diaper, Rachel pulled out a diaper mat, no longer caring who sees Monica in this state. Over the next few days, Phoebe and Rachel began to notice increasing regression with Monica. She was no longer the responsible motherly figure of the friends group, but rather nothing more than a diaper wearing baby.
  6. Dear Film Aficionados, The following is a novelization of the rare, never before seen first draft of Pulp Fiction, written but never filmed, wherein Vincent Vega was not killed by Butch. Given that bad things happen to Vincent throughout the film while he’s using the bathroom, Tarantino wrote the below sequence as a kind of epilogue for the Vincent and Mia relationship that would in a lighthearted albeit strange way mirror Butch and Marsellus Wallace’s arc in the pawn shop. Worried that elements of Adult Baby Diaper Lover kink might not sit well with mainstream audiences, Tarantino opted to cut this from his final draft and spend the rest of his career doubling down on the use of racial slurs, eating other people’s food as a power move, and foot fetish. Enjoy. It was on shaky legs that Vincent Vega walked into Marsellus Wallace’s strip club. As with the last time, his boss was just finishing up business. Vincent was pretty sure Wallace planned it that way. You see man exerting power over another man, it was easier for him to hold power over you. “Two things, mother fucker,” Mr. Wallace said loud enough for Vincent to overhear. “One; you take this money, you’re not selling me a loss in the fourth. You’re selling me your pride. You take this money from me and I own your pride. It goes in my back pocket. You sell me your pride and a year from now, you’re living like a prince in Vegas. Understand?” The boxer. A young fella this time, reached for the envelope. “Yessir, Mr. Wallace.” Marellus yanked the money back. “Two: Your girl’s not going to the fight. I’m having one of my boys take care of her. Keep her safe. Just in case.” Vincent grimaced at the not so veiled threat. Not because he found such an insurance policy distasteful; it just reminded him of one of his own fuck ups. “You take this money, you make it to the fourth, your ass goes down. Then my guy pays for dinner and sees your girl home.” For a second time, the guy about to ruin his career for cash reached out. “Got it.” “Say it.” “I take the money. I make it to the fourth. My ass goes down. My girlfriend gets a free dinner.” This time the kid got to take the money. They all took the money if they made it this far. Some days were just a motherfuckin repeat of the last. Unlike the day before, Vincent didn’t have Jules by his side. After all that time misquoting Bible verses before shooting people, Jules finally found God in a diner of all places and was gonna be a bum. How fucked up was that? Now Jules was out of the game. At least, Vincent looked more stylish than last time. His black suit and tie, his working outfit. Way better than the shitty gray t-shirt he was wearing the other day. “You want anything?” The bartender asked Vincent. “Liquid courage?” Vincent played it cool and leaned against the bar. “Why would I need that?” “Rumor has it, Mr. Wallace is doing this new insurance policy because you fucked up the last one.” “Rumor has it you’re a fucking asshole,” Vincent said cooly. “Is that true?” The bartender threw up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Okay. Okay. My bad. Just saying what other people was saying.” Vincent rolled his eyes. One ill-timed bathroom break at a gas station and Vincent had missed this punchy has been who welched on a payoff by mere minutes. Word around the last forty- eight hours was that Mr. Wallace was no longer seeking payback as long as Butch Coolidge stayed out of LA. Vincent didn’t know what the asshole had done to deserve that kind of mercy, but Vincent didn’t know if he’d actually gotten it, either. Damn. Mia was right. When it came down to it, hitmen and leg breakers weren’t any better than a bunch of old biddies at a sewing circle. All gossip and speculation over shit they knew nothing about. Mia... “Vincent Vega?” Mr. Wallace called over. “My boy! Get your ass over here!” Vincent did. In the right light, Marsellus Wallace looked as strong, healthy, and confident as he ever did. A big black man with a loud confidence and a quiet intensity about him, like he could see the date of your death scratched on your forehead, and if he liked you enough he’d pretend not to look at it. In the wrong light, Vincent could tell something had happened. Wallace looked rough. Low on a sleep. High on pain. He’d been standing with the latest boxer getting set up to take a dive. Not at ease enough to sit down. Vincent didn’t know, couldn’t know, and didn’t want to know why. Maybe it had something to do with why Collidge had been allowed to walk away. There he went again, just like Mia said. Mia... Marsellus opened his arms wide, and Vincent went in for a hug. It wouldn’t be much for the big man to crush the life out of Vincent. There was a reason Vincent worked for Marsellus and the money was only half of it. “I got another job for you.” “Yeah?” Vincent asked. “Who is it?” Finally, some normalcy. “Mia…” *************************************************************************************** It wasn’t gonna be like the last time, Vincent swore to himself. This time he was sober. This time he was on guard. Inhibitions would not be lowered. Heroin would not be found in his pockets. Nobody would fucking OD and need a needle jabbed into their chest. He wouldn’t need a skinny ex-actress to almost die to resist temptation. Just in case, Vega wore something underneath his fancy suit and bolo tie. Using the UC Santa Cruz t-shirt as an undershirt was a stroke of genius. Hard to succumb to temptation if he kept thinking about the reason he’d needed to change into that shirt. Dead bodies were real mood killers. “This’ll be fine,” Vincent whispered to himself. “This is gonna be fine.” Marsellus Wallace wasn’t mad at him. Not at all. He wouldn’t be asked to babysit the man’s wife a second time if he was mad for the screw up. Marsellus obviously didn’t know about the first not-a-date date, either. “It’s just another dinner. Some dancing.” Like last time, she’d left a note for him. Welcome back Vincent, I’m getting ready. Come in and get comfortable. You know the drill. -Mia This time, the note had the faint trace of perfume on it. Jasmine and violets. Fuck. Vincent Vega dragged his palm down his forehead and slicked back his hair. He inhaled through his mouth and thought of the gray shirt and cleaning pieces of Marvin in the back seat of Jules’s car. That’d do it. He went into the house. He didn’t need directions to the intercom the second time. “Hey, Mia,” Vincent said, making sure to press the button before he spoke. The house was quiet this time. No music playing while Mia primped and primed and powdered her nose. “Hello, Vincent.” Her voice, though flat, sent lightning tingle up and down the hitman’s brain. “I’ll be down in a jif. You know where the bar is. Make us both a drink, yeah?” “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Mia.” It was a bad idea. A bad bad idea. “Live a little, Vincent.” Even through the slight electronic haze of intercom, Vincent knew it was a bad idea. Bad ideas never stopped him before. He went over and poured himself a drink. Whiskey. Top shelf. He downed it and refilled it before grabbing a martini glass and filling it with vodka for the lady. This was a test. Vincent was gonna need liquid courage to pass it. The slight hiss of a needle on vinyl. The thump-tha-thump and backbeat of a base drum accompanied by upbeat acoustic guitar. Almost time. Mrs. Wallace sure knew how to make an entrance. “The night we met I knew I...needed you so.” Vincent looked up to the stairs and saw her coming down, gold colored shoes and black pants that flared at the ankles and hugged further up the legs to her hips. “And if I had the chance I’d...never let you go.” A white blouse that did much the same with her wrists and waist, yet accentuating her supple breasts. “So won’t you say you love me.” Raven black hair to match Vincent’s own, but cut into a bob style haircut with bangs so that it perfectly framed her face like a picture, making her scarlet lips pop. “I’ll make you so proud of me.” History was repeating itself. Save for the dorky t-shirt he made himself wear, he was dressed exactly the same. “We’ll make ‘em turn their heads, every place we go…” Save for the baby blue satchel purse over her shoulder, she was too. “Hello Vincent.” She smiled softly. “Ready to spend some time together?” Over the course of forty-eight hours, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace had swapped demeanors. When Vincent last saw her, Mia was half a corpse. Now she was damn near radiant. Amazing what a good night’s sleep and a bit of secrecy can do for a gal. Vincent came up to her before she’d fully descended and handed her the martini glass. “Sure,” he said. “Yeah. Where are we headed? A fake speakeasy where the waiters dress like Al Capone?” Mia didn’t break her stride. She knocked back the martini and walked around to sit on the couch. “I was thinking of staying in and doing something different.” Walking around to maintain eye contact, Vega pouted his lips and cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah. Different how?” He eyed the bulky bag still leaning against Mia’s hips. “Why the purse?” One of the hottest women he’d ever met, and his boss’s wife, was suggesting they stay in tonight. Alarm bells should have been ringing in Vincent’s skull. Horny, buzzed, and a streak of dumb luck can do a lot to drown out alarm bells. “I have something to ask you. But you gotta promise me not to get offended.” A playful smile tugged at Mia’s lips as she threw back Vincent’s words from the other night. The game was afoot. “Pretty sure that’s a bullshit promise,” Vincent flashed a grin. “That’s a promise I can’t keep. I can’t promise how I’m gonna react because I don’t know what you’re gonna say. So say what you’re gonna say and then I’ll react to it.” This was dumb. This was dumb. This was really, really, dumb. Mia chuckled dryly in recognition. She was playing too. “You saved my life, Vincent. You took care of me in a way Marsellus never has.” Too strong! Vincent took a half-step back. “Whoah, whoah, Mia. Slow down. I like you, as a friend,” he lied, “but I’m not looking to do anything with you that he would.” Mia remained seated, comfortable and confident. “I know, Vincent. I know.” She patted the sofa cushion next to her. As a compromise between smart and stupid, he sat down an extra cushion over. Mia didn’t seem to mind. “I haven’t told him about that night. Neither of you. And you know how I feel about uncomfortable silences.” She was beating around his bush, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out about what. He wasn’t gonna sleep with her, not this sober. Either she was lying or...or…? “What do you wanna do? He asked. The mob boss’s wife looked him dead in the eye. “I want you to give me something he won’t. I want a baby. Just for tonight.” Red flag! Red flag! RUN! RUN! Instead, Vincent laughed. “And I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure that if I give you a baby, Marsellus will know and will find something higher than four stories and toss me out of it and only if I’m lucky. I know it’ll take longer than one night to get here.” Mia was unphased. “No you idiot,” she said. Only she could call Vincent an idiot and it somehow not feel like an insult. Maybe he was an idiot; for her, anyway. “I don’t want you to put a baby in me.” “Then what the fuck do you want?” Vincent’s smile didn’t quite reach his squinting eyes. In answer, Mia snapped her fingers and pointed to the speakers. The Ronette’s were still playing. She let the music do the talking for her. “So won’t you, please (Be my, be my baby) Be my little baby (My one and only baby) Say you’ll be my darlin’ (Be my, be my baby Be my baby noooooow! Whoah-oh-oh-oh” Vincent guffawed. “How is what you said any different than what I just said?” He still wasn’t getting up. “You’re cute,” Mia siad. She undid the satchel and flipped it open. “Clever. Dumb with hints.” Vincent tilted his head to the side. The purse didn’t go with what she was wearing at all. What did a lady like her need with a purse anyways? It’s not like she ever had to pay for anything. “Let me help.” First thing out of the bag was a white bottle of baby powder. Mia slammed it on the coffee table and a little bit of white residue shot up in the air from the loosened cap. It wasn’t the first white powder Mia had put up her nose. The fan carried the scent of it, jasmine and violets, into Vega’s nostrils. That hadn’t been perfume he’d smelled. Next came the packet of wipes. Quite a lot, more than enough to get makeup off. The white folded hunk of soft plastic came down next, and Vincent sucked in his breath. “Is that a…?” A second and a third one joined it on the coffee table, making a stack. “Diaper?!” Vincent finally understood what she meant by the song. “Lay back.” The woman stood up. “Take your pants off,” she said. She closed in on Vincent. He still didn’t run. “No wait. Don’t. Let me.” Despite himself, Vincent was lying back, trying stupidly to scramble over the low side armrest of the white leather couch. “Whoah whoah whoah!” He slapped at her hands to keep her at bay. He’d seen some wild shit in Amsterdam, he’d seen people dip their fries in mayonnaise. This was a half-step too far. “I’m not into this stuff.” “Neither am I,” Mia said. “But I’m willing to give it a try if you are.” “I’m not!” Vincent didn’t seem or feel all that convincing half-lying down. Mia stood up and grabbed a diaper from the top of the stack she’d made. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, unfolding it. “Let me play my little game. Let me take care of you and pretend. You might like it. Or…” “Or?” “You can give me a foot rub.” That’s how Mia got his pants off... ********************************************************************************* Vincent had had plenty of ladies, thousands, take his clothes off. Mia was the first to put clothes on him. Did diapers even count as clothes? He wasn’t sure. His business was covered, but he still felt oddly naked. He still looked like a dork, too. The one piece of clothing he’d walked into the house wearing was the lame college t-shirt that made him look like a dork. The white puffy diaper MIa taped on him wasn’t making him feel any less dorky. Laying there on the couch, with his head in Mia’s lap, ‘oddly naked’ and ‘dorky’ were things he could deal with. He stared up into her eyes and saw the same fascinated and intriguing sparkle in her eyes that he’d caught glimpses of sitting across from her at Jackrabbit Slim’s. He tried to mumble something up to her, but the rubber nipple was held firm in his mouth. “Finish your baba, baby,” Mia smiled down at him. “Make it all gone and then we can play. How does that sound?” Vincent’s eyes drifted down from her face and to her breasts. He reached for them, wanting to touch. Babies did it all the time. He was just role playing, which is what she wanted. Might as well get into character. She grabbed him by the pinky, and stopped him cold. “Only if you’re a good little boy,” she warned. “Finish your baba.” The hitman placed his hands, both of them, where she could see them on the baby bottle. The milk wasn’t bad. It tasted sweet, and was kind of thick. Thicker than normal milk, almost like a shake with ice cream to milk ratio reversed. It still wasn’t worth five dollars, but it wasn’t bad. Maybe next time, he could sweet talk her into adding a little bourbon in it. The fuck was he thinking? Next time? Doing this? He made a face while he sucked down the last of the (he hoped) fake baby formula. “Alright tiger,” Mia said, “sit up.” She took the bottle out of his mouth, placed it down on the coffee table and started nudging at his shoulders. “Up-up.” It wasn’t easy sitting up in the diaper, though it had nothing to do with his body as much as it did with psychology. True, the thick padded core felt like like he was wearing several pairs of tighty whities at the same time, spreading his legs apart, but that didn’t fuck with his muscle memory as much as the distinct crinkle, like a bag of potato chips, every time he moved his hips in the slightest. It gave Vincent the same kind of feeling that he got listening to someone else brush their teeth. “Uhhhhhhgh…” he exhaled while Mia started slowly rubbing his back. A back rub. That was nice. Nice enough that when he closed his eyes, despite himself, he heard another crinkle even though his hips weren’t moving. Vincent opened his eyes and glanced down at his crotch. One small blessing was that adult diapers were pretty good at hiding erections. Weird, considering how most people who needed them probably didn’t get erections any more. A foot rub is never just a foot rub and the back rub didn’t stay just a back rub for long. The boss’s wife started picking up the pace and alternating between rubbing his spine and pounding all along his back rapid fire; like a Swedish massage with the wires all crossed. “Huh?” “Come on, baby.” Mia said. “Give it to Mommy. Be a good boy and give me a good one.” “If this is what you think getting it good is,” Vincent quipped, “then no wonder Mr. Wallace hasn’t given you a ba-’ his words were cut off by the sound of his own “UUUUURP!” as the milk he’d just finished came rumbling up out of him. He was too stunned to even try and cover his mouth. “There we go!” Mia’s voice perked up. “Two more.” “Two more?” he echoed dumbly. “Burps,” Mia didn’t even stop pounding on his back. “Give me two more burps.” Easier done than said. “Urp!” “One.” And then a final, much quieter, “urp’. “Two.” The back beating turned back into a rub. “That’s my boy,” she whispered sensually into his ear. “You’re...welcome?” Vega didn’t know what to say. What was the protocol for this kind of strange? “Get on the floor for Mommy,” Mia whispered to him. This was something Vincent didn’t need to be told twice. It was just a quick scoot and a backward crab walk to make. Cockily, Vincent laid out spread eagle, hoping it meant what he thought it meant. Dry humping didn’t count. She’d already seen his dick, anyway. (Yeah, dry humping counted. If a foot rub counted, dry humping counted. But a guy can only get so dead so might as well live a little.) Mia reached into the diaper bag and started laying some wooden number and alphabet blocks down on the ground. “I meant ‘crawl on the floor’, silly,” she said. “Unless you’re so little you can’t even do that much.” Something, some bit of pride, made Vincent roll over with a snap. He pushed himself up to his knees and got.the flat of one foot down on the floor when Mia wagged her finger in his face. “Ah-ah-ah! Knees are as high as you go.” Vincent stopped himself and lowered back down to his hands and knees. This was the craziest, dumbest thing he’d ever done. Mia pivoted around him and brushed a bit of hair out of the man’s face. The smile made Vincent feel warm in all the right ways. A twinge in his bladder, and the plastic rustle between his legs brought Vincent back to reality. “I gotta piss,” he said. This time, he really meant it. The hand the young and beautiful Mrs. Wallace placed on his back might as well have been a five-hundred pound barbell. “Let me check,” she said. Vincent’s elbows locked and he grit his teeth. Mia patted the back of his diaper and stuck her fingers inside the leg holes. “Still dry.” In less than two days, this chick had gone from saying him going to pee was ‘A little too much information’ to feeling him up in what had to be the least sexy way possible. He wouldn’t even let his doctor do this kind of thing to him! “I didn’t say that I pissed my pants,” he whined. “I said that I have to pee.” “If babies knew when they had to go,” Mia teased, “they wouldn’t be wearing diapers, would they?” “Yeah,” Vincent replied. “I’m not actually a-” He was cut off by another rubber nipple entering his mouth. “Let’s keep that comfortable silence going,” Mia smirked. She booped his nose and then the button shield on his pacifier for good measure. “Stay here, and play with your blocks. Mommy’s gonna go rustle up something to eat in the kitchen. If you’re wet enough when I get back,” she leaned over and patted his bottom “maybe I’ll change you.” Mia didn’t so much as look back trotting off to the kitchen. Having lost his looming erection to the mounting burning pressure in his bladder, Vince held himself. She really expected him to do this? In his pants? With a hint of defiance, Vincent Vega pushed himself back up to his knees. He’d only just stuck his foot out into a kneel, kind of looking like that one painting of George Washington crossing the River Thames or whatever when Mia’s voice called in from the kitchen. “Don’t even think about it!” HOW LOUD WAS THIS DIAPER? There was something unnerving about the way she said it, too. It wasn’t intimidating or angry the way Jules got when he was ona roll. It was so completely matter of fact. Just like, well, a Mommy. The hitman lowered himself back to a crawling position. “I fasn’t doin’ anyfin!” he lied. Talking around the pacifier. “Good!” Mia called back from the kitchen. “I already locked the bathrooms. Took your pants, too. Good luck going outside till we’re done.” Vincent turned around like a dog trying to lick its own ass. She wasn’t lying about that. He had no idea how or when she did it, but everything he’d come in wearing from his shoes on up was gone. When the fuck had that happened? “I wasn’t goin’ anywhere!” “Your potty options are your diaper or Marsellus’s carpet.” Thinking about what Marsellus Wallace might do to a body had a bladder loosening effect on most people under normal circumstances. The diaper, embarrassment, fear, and two glasses of whiskey that had zipped all the way through him made it worse. He had no choice, he felt. Vincent closed his eyes, took a deep breath, pretended the pacifier was a cigarette, and let go in his pants. It was worse than the splatter of blood to his suit. Actually, not that bad. Just...different. He felt the physical relief of his bladder draining, but added to it a wet warmth spreading out and splashing around before dripping and being absorbed by the dense padding. A sensation of release coupled with a sensation of wetness. Yeah, that happened to Vincent often enough, just not like this; not since he was three or four or whatever kids learn to stop pissing their pants. The wetness wasn’t going away either. No pulling out. No toweling off. No taking a shower. The hitman sat back, the crinkling noise greatly diminished as he eyed the pack of baby wipes, and shuddered. There also wasn’t any noise. The process felt half-done. No flushing. No handwashing. It’s not like he could reach down and shake it off. He reached down and patted the warm diaper between the legs, feeling the wet squish. It didn’t feel too bad, if he didn’t think about it. Too bad he was thinkin’ about it. He grabbed a couple of the baby blocks and haphazardly started to stack them on top of each other. With a final exhale and a quasi-accidental suck on the binky, Vincent mumbled “Aa leash I don’ hafta fush.” Mia came back in with a plate, filled with those fancy little sandwiches, the kind that rich ladies had at lawn parties out in the valley or whatever. It was a far cry from a steak. “Let’s eat up,” Mia said, sitting back down on the couch. Vincent reached out with one hand, took the pacifier out with the other, grabbed one of the little bread squares and nibbled at it. He winced. Way sweeter than he’d expected. He tilted the sandwich enough to see the brown creamy bottom and purple goop at the top layer. “Peanut butter and jelly,” Mia said. “Bite size. With the crust cut off.” “Aren’t these supposed to be, I don’t know...seaweed or watercress or somethin’?” Looming over him, Mia gave out a dry chuckle. “I thought a big boy like you would like it. Want me to find some applesauce or oatmeal and spoon feed it to you?” Never before had Vincent been so tempted. He quashed it and shoveled the sandwich in his pie hole. Not a steak. Better than a bullet in the brain. He reached for another. From behind, Mia leaned over and gave the front of his diaper a squeeze. “I thought so. Looks like someone couldn’t hold it. Not such a big boy after all, are we?” Vincent felt his face heat up; his cheeks flushing. The crinkle up front wasn’t audible, but with a relieved bladder, a renewed lust was breaching the surface. Feeling the warm wetness around his cock and the squeezing pressure of MIa’s hand. It wasn’t quite the same, but his penis was too dumb to appreciate the difference. Enough parallels could be rawn. He let out a low moan. “Those are good sandwiches aren’t they?” Mia was fucking with him. She had to be fucking with him. With crumbs tumbling out of his mouth and lips dabbed with jelly. Vincent nodded “Mhm.” “Good. Eat it all up,” she whispered. Daintily, she picked up her own sandwich and started nibbling on it.. Vincent went in for thirds. “Hrrrrn…” he said, patting his stomach. This time the moan wasn’t out of pleasure. Mia glanced at the clock. “Right on time.” Vincent gulped the last bit of sandwich. “What’s right on time?” Mia stood up and patted him on the head. “That wasn’t just milk I gave you in your baba baby boy.” “Huh?” Vincent stood up, but Mia just pushed him back to the floor like he was just a toddler who hadn’t quite mastered walking and balance.. He felt funny. Weak. And something was brewing in his gut. “What did….what did you do?” The world wasn’t spinning, but Vincent was feeling weak like a kitten. Like a baby. “I wanted you to have the full experience,” Mia said. “I wanted to get the full experience.” “What did you put in that bottle?” Vincent’s words were coming out soft and funny. He felt absolutely blasted. “A little something I used to slip into guy’s drinks when I thought they were gonna slip something into mine, plus some laxative. It’s why I wanted you on the floor. Didn’t want my little guy to fall and bang his head on the table or nothin’. ” Mia put the pacifier back in Vincent’s mouth. Oh god, why was this turning him on? “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Just let it happen.” Vincent whimpered and held onto Mia’s knee like it was the mast in a storm at sea. His insides felt like they were swelling up, a balloon getting ready to pop. She stroked his hair, and quietly shushed whimpering that he hadn’t even been consciously aware he’d been making. A few minutes later the balloon popped. He wanted to close his eyes, but his face had the exact opposite reaction. Eyes wide open, unblinking, he trembled as his body started to push out its contents into the back of his diaper. “Mmmm..mmmm!” He sucked on the pacifier and hugged Mia’s thigh as it happened. “Muhmmmmm -muhmmmm!” It came in quick little spasms and waves, his diaper getting heavier and heavier with each. “That’s right,” Mia cooed, sounding more and more motherly with each passing second. She stroked his hair and kissed the top of Vincent’s head while he helplessly filled his already wet pants. “Just let it happen. Let me have this.” She rubbed his ears and kissed his forehead. “Make Mommy a present.” It might have been the drugs in the milk, or it might have been the weird ass couple of days he’d just had, but those last few words were all Vincent Vega needed to both finish pushing out the mess in the back of him and for him to blow a load in the front of his pants. “Mommeeeeeeee!” Exhausted and aching, Vincent’s knees caved and he fell back onto his bum, making the mess spread out. He didn’t care, flopping back spread eagle with the dumbest look on his face. Cooly, calmly, as if this were all routine for her, Mia took the second diaper off the top of the stack she’d made, along with the wipes and powder. “Let’s get you changed.” Vincent laid there in a drug and orgasm induced haze while the boss’s wife untaped his loaded diaper for him. She went to work wiping him down, the cool of the wipes feeling nice against the heat of his loins. He popped a thumb in his mouth and started sucking. At least he didn’t have to clean himself up. Silver lining and all that. She pushed his knees back to his stomach and started wiping his ass down. That was something no girl had ever done for him. Not a girl that he’d wanted to sleep with. Yikes, he hoped he wouldn’t need therapy after this. “Glad you got that all out of you,” Mia said, balling the diaper up into a putrid plastic ball. He hadn’t even had time to consider whether that might be the end or not, when she slipped the replacement under him. A cloud of powder enveloped his lower half, and just like that the diaper was brought up between him and held tight until she’d adjusted the tapes just right. Vincent sighed, feeling suddenly sleepy. A clean diaper felt so much better after a dirty one. “That was fast.” “Course it was fast,” Mia said. “You never know when a little guy is gonna end up peeing all over everything, even during the middle of a change. So you gotta make like a baby tomato and catch up.” Mia picked up the used diaper and took it back to the kitchen. There’d be a lot of explaining to do if Marsellus found one of those in his kitchen garbage. That was a problem for later. A problem for Mommy Mia to take care of. This whole thing had been hers from the start; he had been hers from the start. “So what now?” Vincent asked after she’d washed her hands and come back. She took a seat on the floor next to him, and maneuvered his head back into her lap. “Why don’t we just enjoy the silence again.” She booped him on the nose with her finger. “Wait for the drugs to get out of your system.” “What if I...you know?” “We’ve got more diapers.” “Can I get my binky back?” Mia opened her blouse. “You’ve been a good baby. If you promise not to bite, I’ll give you something else to suck on.” Oh yeah. This was gonna be a good night. .
  7. Hey everyone so this is a fun little things I started for a server contest and an experiment with serialization. So thank of each "Episode" as it's own little self contained thing featuring these characters. If you read this any future ones should hopefully generally make sense. CN: for mild combat hypnosis/forced accidents. Episode 1 The Wreckit Pokemon Three Months. God had it really been three months since her whole life had briefly ended before being reset? The fact that she was living a video game after dying still seemed surreal as fuck to her but apparently death is actually quite kind and the gods are… Extra to say the least. Things have certainly gotten better for her though. I suppose it's possible to get used to anything. Hell she even has a job now as a telcom tech paying more than she's had ever before in her life and a company truck she's currently driving. She looks out at the rolling countryside and farms along route 222 heading towards Sunny Shore. Everything is quiet except the faint whine of the little four door town-trucks electric motor. A warm nose brushing her thigh and a soft chirp brings her back to reality "Evee?" "Hey pip. Yeah I'm here thanks for keeping my head in the game." The tiny fox-cat like fury brown critter has been May's constant companion since she woke up here. It was so tiny and cute what else could she call it but something gently teasing like "pip-squeak". Hence pip. "Evee!" It chirps happily before leaning into the scritches she's giving it. Her other hand flicks the turn signal to a chorus of ticking clicks as she turns on to an access road. Tires crunching on the gravel track. Before long she's at her destination. A roughly 20m cellular repeater tower that's been causing all kinds of problems. At first it was just random signal strength drop offs but then people started getting spam messages; random letters and numbers first without a phone sending it. Then increasingly rude memes. Like it was being sent like by a particularly obnoxious middle school boy. Rumors were circulating that it was the spirit of a child who had died during a test of courage at the bridge a couple clicks back. May didn't personally believe them. Nope not one bit but…She shudders and shakes her head. Ghosts or not she's got a job to do though as she flings the truck door open and hops out. The weather is unusually warm for Sinnoh even in late summer. Almost 40°C and she can already feel sweat beading on her forehead and under her arms. Cicadas or some bug type can be heard in the background, 50/50 coin toss on which it is. Even in athletic shorts and a tank top this is going to suck and she just wants to get this over with especially given her embarrassing medical issue. Reaching between her legs she squeezes. Yep still dry but in this heat the "protective underwear" she's wearing is going to turn into an absolute swamp. Cloth-backed or not. Walking around the truck as Pip hops out and sniffs around as she goes to one of the side boxes and pulls out her tool belt/harness, diagnostic comp, and other safety kit. Stepping through the leg holes she pulls the belt up to her waist before pulling the straps up over her shoulder and snapping the chest clip. Blushing slightly as adjusting the straps pulls them tight against her bust and presses her padding up against some sensitive areas. Providing a bit of perhaps not so unwanted stimulation. Shaking her head to clear it and smirking at her own reaction, she finally grabs the white hard plastic helmet with the utility company's logo on it. Seating it above her lavender dyed ponytail and clicking the chin strap. With all the prep done it’s time to actually get to work on this tower. Taking a remote in hand she taps a few buttons. With a rush of air forced from its ducted fans a large disk rises off the truck bed and hovers over next to her as she steps on it. There’s a faint ‘ctchunk’ as her shoes mag-grip the disk. “Let’s go Pip we got a tower to fix!” The Evee bounds over excitedly and with an energetic leap and kicking back legs scrambles into a pouch on her belt, head poking out. “Evee!” May nods as if in understanding before tapping the control buttons, disk rising towards the tower as she circles. AR glasses zooming and looking for obvious signs of damage. Of which she can’t see any. Thermals and EM do show weird powerflow irregularities though…. She then pings each of the 9 antennae checking the packet flow and looking for signs of intrusion. There’s nothing irregular inbound and all the firewalls have been updated. That makes her think that some might’ve jacked in locally. “Who the hell drives out to the middle of nowhere just to mess with a random cell tower though? It definitely can’t be the ghost of some pubescent troll though… Right? I mean there are ghost types but those are just weird energy based pokemon, not actual dead people right? The stories have got to be bullshit, right?” As May ponders these questions she feels a warm dampness in her crotch and squeaks in embarrassment despite the lack of anyone nearby aside from Pip. “Come on girl get together… I ain’t afraid of no ghost…” She just chuckles at her own cliche joke. Pip chuffing in apparent bemused annoyance. “Oh? Well, do you have better material?” She twists around and looks over her shoulder to stick her tongue out at the little fluff ball which lets out a seemingly amused “Evee!” Hovering over to the top platform she carefully hooks her harness to the tether and de-mags her shoes stepping off onto it. Walking over to the diagnostic terminal she plugs her tablet in and starts the long tedious job of hunting for error codes and analyzing the patterns of traffic. Sending Pip down on the mobile-platform to dig out a sports drink from the cooler for her as she digs in and gets to work…. It’s about 2 hours later: her diaper is soaked after she gave up and went, she is down two waters, 2 sports drinks, a cola and a yogurt one. She has stripped to her sports bra which looks like she just went swimming. She currently has a hot and panting Pip in her lap and is staring at the sky with bored heavily lidded eyes. “Screw it… I can’t find the problem. I’m half tempted to clock out now and drive home. I’m so tired from this heat though I might just find a hotel or camp out in the truck bed… That creek we passed looked amazing…. Or could just clock out and fall asleep here… What do you think, Pip?” The little Pokemon lets out a tired and listless “Evee”. “Yep, me too…” It’s at this moment that every error alarm on her tablet lights up at once and the screen starts to tear and flicker. Random text and images scroll across the screen and the emergency broadcast signal plays. May lets loose a short burst into her already saturated padding as she startles alert trying to scramble to her feet. Sections of cable and loose containers start to levitate and rise into the air… “What the fuuu…” There is the loud bang of a fuse panel exploding in a spray of sparks and everything goes white as May is knocked on her ass. Rolling to her knees ears ringing what looks like an AR overlay appears in the corner of her vision, pip is standing in front of her fur up and growling and there is a swirling will o'wisp looking ball of lightning in the melted wreckage of one the antennas the overlay shows a line of text. “A wild Rotom appears! Prepare for battle! The wild rotom uses ‘EW Guerilla’ . It's super effective!” May let’s a low exhale of shock and fear. “Double fuck! And hey what the hell!? That move’s not in any of the games!!” Before she can even react the rotom is moving towards them and fires off a blast of electricity. May’s eyes go wide as Pip leaps in front of her, taking the hit and is blasted against the railing with a low crunch, fur smoking. “Piiiiipppp NOOOOO!!!! That was my friend you little bastard!!!” There’s no time to help them however as more lightning blasts force her to dive and roll behind a control node cabinet. The metal paneling absorbing the blasts for now. A message appearing on the overlay that only she could see. “Your Evee has fainted.” “Yeah no shit God!! Why don’t you get off your almighty ass and come down here and do something about it!!? Huh!? Yeah, didn’t think so!!” Seeing her partner go down filled May with an anger just as white hot as the Rotom’s plasma and all she could think about was getting to her partner and getting the hell out. That and maybe teaching that weirdly aggressive rotom a lesson. Remembering her wilderness and pokemon safety training she reaches into one of the side pockets on her utility belt grabbing a texturized plastic coated cylinder and pulling it out. These specialized mini-emp grenades are designed specifically to interfere with and overload electric and certain steel type pokemon, stunning them temporarily. Every field technician gets three for self defense against these kinds of pokemon since they can be a recurring hazard. And just like in training she twists the activation ring unlocking the fire button. Pressing it she waits and counts down to the warning beeps. “ Six seconds to reach Pip and get out, ten second timer on the device. Throw on 4 and move your ass.. Okay you can do this! Just like you trained for…. One one thousand, Two one thousand, Three one thousand, Four one thousand…” She lobs the stun grenade and bolts. Moving in a diagonal to pip, chased by more electrical blasts and reaching them just as another loud k’wump pop sounds followed by a screech that can only be described as breaking glass, thunder, and a washboard distorted through a scrambled synthesizer. The rotom clearing did not like the little present she gave it. Which is May’s last coherent thought for the next minute as she scoops Pip up under her left arm and dives from the tower. Her stomach climbs into her throat tasting acid and bile as she falls through the air just managing to yell out! “Emergency! Recover operator!” The voice command brings the platform drone whirring over at the last possible second as May catches it with her right. The impact forces the opposite end up and the drone over compensates; flinging May and Pip around and dipping into a dive as it hits the deck. Plastic crunching and scattering as May and her partner are thrown clear. Pip coughs and staggers to their feet and runs over to a still stunned May. “Holy shit! Buddy, are you okay after that!?” “Evee!” followed by a weak cough and an affirmative head nod. “God I forget just how tough you are!” May growns, rolls to her knees again, trying to stand but not being entirely successful. “I feel like I just went ten rounds in an MMA match but somehow nothing broken. I guess Arcecus might have actually been listening when I yelled for him to get off his ass….. Or maybe not….” May looks up to see arcing flashes of lightning climbing down the side of the tower. Spider like as they hop from segment to segment. Apparently deciding the lightning blasts weren’t cutting it the mass of electrical plasma fire starts to flash in a tessellating pattern of multicolored squares. Flickering in and out like a broken screen or graphical glitch causing it to tessellate. It is overwhelming and out right seizure inducing in its intensity. May has zero chance as she tries to reach for another stun grenade. Her limbs lock up and she stands there drooling, brain overloaded by the optical assault. It’s at this point that her poor overtaxed bladder gives out completely and her padding, currently just as overwhelmed as her optic nerves, starts to fail. A warm stream running out the opening of her synthetic shorts and down her legs. Puddling in the dirt and her socks/shoes. On the overlay “Rotom uses ‘Confusion Ray’; it’s super effective. May lost bladder control in her confusion…” The flashing pattern ends as the Rotom is apparently taking a second to recharge and assess. May blinks awake. “What even was that and why am I… Oh no..” Her cheeks heat crimson in humiliation and she lets out a little whimper. It is very clear May has lost this fight, the coup de grace however occurs when the Rotom makes another confusion attack. Her last coherent thought for the next several minutes is. “Oh God I hope it’s not….” The overlay registers the attack a second before “The Rotom used ‘Confusion’, it was super effective! May has lost bowel control in her confusion!” …… “May has fainted!” When May comes to she’s on a stretcher, being loaded into an ambulance with Pip in her lap. “What’sat!?l I uhhh.. Huh…” One of the medic’s looks over to her and starts shining a light in her eyes. “Hey she’s awake! Ma’am can you hear me!?” She manages a low pained groan before looking up at the woman in a white uniform and helmet loading her into a VTOL shuttle. “Yeah… What happened?” “This little Gremlin…” she turns to the rotom who looks decidedly less threatening in its non attack form. Just a little ball of light and sparks. “Absolutely rocked you and your Evee. No other way to put it.” May glares at, then flushes in embarrassment. Not even wanting to think about the side effect of it’s confusion attack or the state of her diaper. “We already called your girlfriend from your emergency contacts. She’s going to meet us at the hospital. “Thank you so much, I know she has to be both worried and furious… Again more so at this little hellion.” She glares at the rotom which seems to shrink in on itself. “But after talking with her and the prefecture police captain we think we’ve come up with a solution that will allow it to make things up to you and not get it taken to a hazardous pokemon containment center…” “Oh? I’m listening?” “Evee?” Pip head tilts inquisitively “So the rotom is pretty intelligent and when it was messing with the tower it was still learning and figuring things out, it got scared and didn’t want to leave its home.” “It was scared of being evicted basically!?” May’s expression immediately softens and a look of recognition appears in her eyes. The medic nods as they lift off into the air with a low roar of turbines. “So with your permission we, that is the prefecture and the local pokemon league would like to have this rotom help you at your job as a sort of community service over knocking you around and destroying the cell tower.” She looks at the little critter again. Still massively angry but with a new feeling of sympathy. She can probably forgive it considering it was scared and reacting instinctively. “Okay…. But if you ever mindfrag me hard enough that I shit my pants again I swear to Arceus I will throw you into the ocean! Got it!” She glares at it and points sternly but all the heat has gone out of her voice. “The rotom makes a happy sounding musical tone and zips inside her work tablet. “Whelp now that weirdness is over I’m going to pass back out… I feel really tired…” “Get some rest hon, we’ll be at the hospital in ten..” May nods and both her and Pip are out instantly for the rest of the ride…
  8. Hello there, readers! I am just so pumped to bring to you the first chapter in a brand new story! It's one that's been in the back of my head for a while now, and a recent picture, finally knocked the ripe fruit that is this story loose! The story used characters and settings from the amazingly wonderful BabyStar's comic, CottonTail Nursery! It also features the character Varden, created by Frozenpawpadz! Be sure to check out all of their cute/awesome stuff (both of which can be found on FurAffinity)! I hope that you enjoy it! Home Alone (Chapter 1) by Panther Cub "YES!" Saffron Berger cheered in her room. She had just finished running the final diagnostic on the automated changing table in her workshop, finding that all systems were running smoothly. When she had learned that she would have a three hour window all to herself at the facility the day before, she had worked until very early in the morning to finish her current project, so that she could enjoy those three hours of guaranteed privacy. She removed her goggles and set them on the workbench she had installed right by the door to her room and let out a little yawn. "I can sleep later," she said to herself, a wide grin on her muzzle. After weeks of living and working at Cottontail Nursery, there were currently no babies to be cared for or otherwise handled, aside from Varden. However, Josephine was taking him to a playdate, and then on a small shopping trip. Cleo had a doctor's appointment today and already left. Dr. Akiko was going to some specialty shop to pick up some orders and place some new ones, and Debbie had the day off. After casually inquiring about all of the different amounts of time each activity would take, Saffy, after subtracting half an hour for a just-in-case scenario, had calculated that she would have three glorious hours without any chance of someone barging in on her. She felt a thrill run through her as she closed the door to her workshop behind her and walked through her room. She glanced at herself in the reflection on her massive TV, smiling at the lavender shirt and purple shorts she was wearing. Not for much longer, she thought. She crossed over to the door and opened it, closing it behind her as she stepped out into the hall. "Saffy!" came a deep voice, causing the otter girl to reflexively flinch, not that it did any good. She immediately found herself in a bone crushing hug, courtesy of Varden himself. The big cow was dressed in an adorable orange sundress, that did nothing to hide his diaper, with a matching bow tied to each of his two horns. There was a third bow tied to the tip of his tail. Saffy took all of this in just as the air in her lungs was squeezed out. "OOPH! Varden! Lemmie go!" she said, wriggling in his iron-grip. She winced when she felt one of his hooves pat her bottom, something that had become a reflex for the large and muscular cow. "Awww, yoor still not wearin' any diapees. You'll be in trouble if you have an accident and aren't wearin' one!" Ever since the day he had gotten the thought in his head, Varden seemed to have a difficult time understanding that Saffy was not a baby. This was something that the rest of the staff found to be quite amusing and adorable. "Varden, sweetie," came the voice of the head bunny in charge, Saffy's boss Josephine, "remember what we talked about? You need to ask Saffy first if she would like a hug, and then only hug her if she says yes." Said otter quickly found herself dropped onto her bottom. She rubbed it as she stood up, looking up into the chastened face of the big guy... girl... person. Varden really was a teddy bear. "Sowwy, Saffy," Varden said, slipping a thumb into his mouth. "S'alright, no broken bones, no problem," Saffy said, actually taking a second to feel her ribs and confirm that they were indeed still intact. "Sorry about that, Saffy," the brown and white bunny said as she directed Varden to start getting into his stroller, leaning down to buckle him in herself. "Varden's just so excited and toddled away the second I took my eyes off of him." "Like I said, no worries! In fact, let me help carry the diaper bag to the elevator!" Saffy picked up the bright yellow duffle bag with a grunt, and started to carry it past the front desk area. Debbie had already headed out, as did Akiko and Cleo. Three down, just two to go! Saffy thought, fighting to contain her excitement. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you were trying to get rid of all of us, Saffy," Josephine said to the excited otter, a note of bemused suspicion in her tone, as she pushed Varden along in his bright white stroller. One of Akiko's designs. When turned on, it would emit a certain vibration that caused the eye to just sort of slip right over it without actually seeing it. Not invisibility, as Akiko had explained to Saffy, more like a form of camouflage. This made it easier to transport their charges in public. Of course, to counter this, Akiko had also developed bracelets that nullified the effect on the wearer. This was due to some confusion when the stroller prototype was first implemented. Luckily, they had managed to use the tracking chip in the stroller to find it before the occupant could complete her escape plan. Saffy snorted and rolled her eyes. "Now why would I ever want some time away from a mad scientist who likes to randomly experiment on others, a perpetual party girl who likes to tease and cause mischief when she's bored, a giant nanny who tries to mother anything she can get her hooves on, and a giant toddler who routinely tries to hug the life outta me?" The older bunny seemed to consider this. "Perhaps you do make a good point, Saffy." Varden, however, looked up from his large stroller with wide eyes, the sarcasm having clearly gone over his head. "Awww, you can come to pway with me an' my friend Gracy on our playdate, Saffy!" Saffy chuckled, nervously, while her boss tried to hold back a laugh. "Th-that's okay, Varden," Saffy said, reaching over to ruffle his hair, making the cow giggle. "I need that extra alone time to get my big surprise all ready." "Will it be candy?" Varden asked with wide and shining eyes, making Saffy and Josephine laugh. "No, it won't be candy," Saffy said, bemused. "I for one am very excited to see this surprise of yours, Saffy. I'm sure that it's going to be just wonderful!" Saffy had quickly learned that Josephine was without a doubt the best boss she had ever worked for. While tough when she needed to be, she was also kind, funny, and supportive. "Now, if you have any trouble at all, don't be afraid to call my cell, or anyone else's for that matter." Josephine said as the elevator doors opened. "Yup, if anything happens, which it won't, I will!" Saffy said, passing off the diaper bag, once again amazed at how easily Josephine carried it. "Alright. I trust you, Saffy," she said, pressing her thumb to the scanner. "Have a nice afternoon!" Saffy said with a wave just as the doors closed. She waited there a few moments, before jumping in the air with glee. "FINALLY!" she cried, before hurrying off to the nursery section. She wasn't going to waste any time. She went into the playroom, the non adult-one of course, and gathered up some blocks, a few plush toys, a pretty blankie she had had her eye on for some time now, and a purple pacifier. With a wide grin on her face, she moved on into the nap section and gathered up a few diapers, some baby powder, a tub of baby wipes, and a cute outfit that she also had had her eye on for a while. Finally, she stopped at the kitchen to grab a bottle of strawberry milk in the back of the fridge. Akiko had loaded up a few of them, explaining that they were for an upcoming acquisition or something. Saffy hadn't been paying too close attention as she had been tinkering with a part for the automated changing table, and since the good doctor loved going on about her different experiments. All she knew was that she LOVED strawberry milk and figured that one measly bottle wouldn't be missed. With her arms loaded down with all the supplies she was going to need, she started to make her way to her room. She looked down at her haul, feeling the bubbling excitement practically about to burst out. That was until she took a good look at the binky. She stopped by the front desk and examined it closely. "Wait a sec," she said aloud to no one, "this is one of Akiko's hypno binkies. That was close." She laughed and set it down right there on the desk, thankful she had actually paid attention for this one. Once placed in someone's mouth, it started to send signals to the brain encouraging sucking, as well as subliminally implanting an urge to suckle, with the intent of it becoming second nature after a prolonged period of time exposed to it. How it got mixed in with the fresh binkies, Saffy didn't know, nor did she see fit to question it. "I'll take it back when I go get a proper paci," she said, making a mental note to closely examine the binky's before she takes one. Using one of her feet, encased in her workbooks, she slid the door to her room open, and didn't bother to close the door. She set the toys and blankie and bottle down on her coffee table, before continuing to her workshop. This time with a free hand, she opened the door, and made a beeline straight for her automated changing table. It looked much like one of the regular changing tables, until it was activated. Saffy first set about opening different compartments and doors, loading in the changing supplies, and even folding up the clothes she had picked out and loading them in as well. Once she was done, she grabbed her tablet from her workbench and synced it up to the table. Saffy tapped on the screen, going into the settings menu... and paused. Am I really gunna do this? she thought as she hesitated. Then, she steeled herself, and continued on, registering herself in the changing table's system... as an un-potty-trained toddler. "Here we go," Saffy said as she hit the enter button. It took a second, and then it was confirmed that the changes to the settings had been made. Saffy set the tablet on her workbench, and took a step towards the changing table, stopping when she heard the tinny mechanical female voice. "Charge detected. Assessment: ... Care needed." Two large mechanical hands came out and picked Saffy up, laying her down on the changing table. She was tempted to try and get off, just to test how the device would further restrain her, but decided against it. Already, two more hands appeared, and all four set to work. Two made quick work of untying her work boots and removing them, followed by the socks. They were discarded in a side bag that Saffy had set up just for her clothes. Then the hands unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, and slid them off her legs. "What a good little girl I have!" the voice praised, now sounding like Josephine and making Saffy smile and blush. She knew her boss was going to love that touch. Now only in her shirt and underwear, the hands gently, but quickly, tugged the shirt off over her head. Now it was just her matching white cotton bra and panties. She was sat up so that the bra could be unhooked and removed, just as her panties were slid off. Once the last articles of her adult clothing went into the bag, it was tied shut, and set down to the side. Saffy felt more than a little vulnerable as she sat there, completely nude on the changing table. The metallic hands set about gently pushing her back down. Two hands grabbed her ankles and raised her legs, just as one of the folded diapers was dispensed from a slot on the table. The diaper was unfolded and fluffed out. Saffy smiled and blushed as she saw the cute baby block design on it. As it was placed underneath her raised bottom, a hole appeared in the center of one of the hands, and a baby wipe was pulled out by the fingers. Said hand then used it to wipe around Saffy's soon-to-be diaper area. She jumped a little at the coldness of the wipe, but still smiled. The wipe was discarded in a built-in trash canister, and the hole in the hand closed up, just as a series of small holes opened in a different hand. It lightly started to puff out some baby powder, which it used to liberally dust Saffy's upturned bottom, and then her front. All the while another hand came out and proceeded to thread Saffy's tail through the hole in the back of the diaper, fastening the tape there. Saffy's legs were lowered onto the soft and crinkly diaper in time with the hand dealing with her tail, and they finished the diapering off by bringing the front up and taping it all nice and snug. Saffy sat up and poked at her diaper, smiling as she felt a thrill run through her body again. "Alright, sweetie," Josephine's voice came from the speakers in the table, "can you lift your hands up for me, like a big girl?" Saffy giggled and quickly complied. "Such a good girl you are!" the device praised again as it brought a bright red t-shirt down over her head and arms. The front read 'You know I'm cute. Deal with it!' in black letters. Saffy was then stood up as her tail was threaded through the back of a black skirt, that only covered the top half of her new padding, and had black suspender straps, which the hands brought up over her shoulders. It finished everything off by nimbly parting her thick red locks and using two red bows to tie it into a pair of bunched-up pigtails. "You have been such a good girl, that it's going into your file!" the table praised and picked Saffy up under her arms, sitting her down with a light crinkle on the floor. My file? Saffy wondered, suddenly realizing that a proxy file must have been made and saved in the system, Okay. I just have to make sure to delete it when I'm done, before anyone sees it. Standing up, Saffy giggled at the feeling of a small pillow between her legs, and walked with a bit of a waddle over to her workbench. She yawned as she put the changing table on standby, planning to try and wet and experience a complete diaper change now that she experienced a diapering. "It works great! They're gunna love it!" Saffy said, as she then toddled out into her room, and smiled at the toys. She picked up a white and brown bunny and giggled, realizing that the coloration matched Josephine perfectly. With a crinkly plop, Saffy grabbed her remote and turned her tv onto a cartoon channel. Then she grabbed her bottle, happy that it was still nice and cold, and stuck the nipple in her mouth. It too her a few tries, but she finally got a taste of the delicious strawberry milk inside, and after some more trial and error, got into a suckling rhythm that kept it flowing. When she noticed that she kept starting to nod off, Saffy made a decision. "Okay," she said after removing the bottle, but before a yawn, "a quick nap. I'll just set my watch alarm so I don't forget." She set her watch to wake her up in a half an hour, and curled up under the soft purple fleece blankie, that was so warm and nice, and cuddled the stuffed bunny. In seconds, she was lightly snoring. Unbeknownst to the napping otter, she was no longer alone in the facility. Cleo hummed to herself as she walked in the front door. "Saffy? It turns out zat my appointment vas for next week. Isn't that silly?" Cleo smiled as she walked by the front desk... her eyes spotting something on it. It was a purple binky. Puzzled, she picked it up and examined it. "Not one of Vardens," the maternal deer muttered, wondering what a binky was doing on Debbie's desk. She noticed that the door to Saffy's room was open, and walked down to poke her head in. "Saffy?" Cleo's eyes went wide at the sight before her. All over Saffy's floor were numerous blocks and some soft toys, many of which she recognized from being from the nursery. There was a half-drunk bottle on the coffee table. And lying nearby, partially covered by a bright purple blankie from the nap area, was Saffy, fast asleep. Cleo cooed at the sight, capable of seeing the otter's adorable shirt and skirt, as well as her padding underneath. Now why would she hide this from us? Cleo wondered as she walked in, her overzealous maternal instincts kicking in instantly. She reached down and gently gathered Saffy and her blankie up in her arms, expertly swaddling her. She smiled softly as she remembered the binky she found and, removing it from the pocket she had put it into and slipped it in, the otter never once stirring. Instead, she sighed happily in her sleep, and began sucking, making a Nuk-Nuk-Nuk sound. Without any thought, Cleo carried Saffy out into the hall, rocking her and humming a lullaby, and carried her into the nursery. There, she spied a crib and laid her down in it. She turned on the mobile, which had little multi-colored fish on it, that started playing a tune, with the fish lighting up in different soft colors. It was one of the new ones Akiko had made. Cleo leaned down and kissed her new charge on the forehead, before heading back into her room to gather up all the toys and bring her her bottle. She noticed that the door to Saffy's workshop was opened, and decided to poke her head in. Cleo nodded in understanding as she saw the changing machine all set up, the cabinets underneath stocked, not fully, but with a few things. So this was her big surprise, Cleo mused as she slid the door shut and resumed gathering up the rest of the baby supplies. She must have been waiting for what she felt was the right time to tell us this is what she wants. Cleo thought, smiling. She was careful to tip-toe gently around so as not to wake the sleeping bundle as she re-entered the nursery. She put most of the toys away, but decided to lay the bunny in the crib with Saffy, as well as her bottle, in case she got hungry. She held a hoof to her mouth to stifle a giggle as she saw Saffy, her arms free, reach out and cuddle the bunny that she now realized looked a lot like Josephine, and then left and shut the door behind herself. She had a call to place. Unbeknownst to Cleo, the mobile that was tinkling right above Saffy was part of an experimental batch, not a regular one. As the occupant of the crib slept below it, the sweet music would implant subliminal messages. Each one was different. Some were designed for the more "adult" sections of the nursery. This one, thankfully, was much more innocent. The fish mobile was designed to mentally help new arrivals come to view their captors as natural authority figures to be obeyed, as well as for the conscious mind to ignore the signals alerting them of a coming need to wet or mess. It should be noted that the need for the binky was being planted in her mind as well as the other aforementioned infantile traits. While multiple sessions with the mobile were required to start making the suggestions permanent, the strongest one was most certainly the obedience to the designated authority figures registered in the system... which presently did not include Saffy, so thankfully that prevented a machine-breaking paradox. What's more, the second strongest implant was already starting to take hold. Saffy started to squirm a little in her sleep, and then relaxed, as her bladder emptied out into her diaper, not once waking up. Cleo was walking back to the nursery, now dressed in her usual apron, pockets already loaded with supplies, her cellphone in her hoof. "Josephine, it is as I said. I came back, and Saffy vas already fast asleep, dressed like a baby, she even had toys and a baba! I had nothing to do vith it!" "You promise that you did not just return and start babying Saffy yourself Cleo? We all know how much you enjoy mothering pretty much anything smaller than yourself," the mature bunny on the other end semi-joked. "I swear!" Cleo said, a slight roll of her eyes. "Well, isn't that her business then?" Josephine asked, Cleo able to hear Varden giggling in the background, no doubt playing his silly moo heart out. "She left her door vide open! And she even designed ze automated changing machine to recognize her as a toddler! I think zat she's vanted to tell us zis for a vile, but decided to surprise us. She even left her binky right on ze front desk where anyone could see it! And before you ask, I checked, it's not one of Varden's." There was a pause on the other end. "... Hmm... alright. Wait for her to wake up and then, gently, Cleo, ask her if this was her surprise to us. The key is to not embarrass her or scare her away for good, alright?" "I vill be as gentle and loving as can be," Cleo said. "Alright, and if she says no, we don't need to tell her that you called anyone about it. If she's humiliated, assure her that it will just be between you two and that you never have to talk about it again, understood?" "Yes, boss!" Cleo said in excitement. She could hear Varden's laughter getting louder, followed by something that sounded like screeching metal and a loud bang, and Varden bawling his eyes out. "Oh no! Varden! I said to stay off those swings, honey. Let Mama Jojo see the booboo," and she hung up. Cleo felt a moment's worry for Varden, but knew that he would most likely be alright, what with being built like a tank. I certainly hope that you liked the first chapter! Please feel free to leave a review! (It really is a wonderful little pick-me-up.)
  9. Chapter 1: The Potion Long after Voldemort’s fall there was always one thing that stuck with Harry Potter. One event, one period of time that would startle him out of sleep long after the trauma had faded, long after he’d learned to live with all he’d experienced. It was something he couldn’t speak to anyone about, and something he couldn’t forget. It happened during that last year, while they were on the run from the Ministry’s forces. Camping in the Weasley’s tent, carrying with them the Horcrux pendant. Harry and Ron had just had their argument, and Ron had disappeared, and Hermione and him had been forced to move on, disapparating, leaving behind any hope of Ron’s return. Hermione was angry with Harry, and he was angry with himself. They camped on a windswept rocky outcropping, and it was as cold as Harry felt. He went looking for more blankets, hoping he could shore up some heat loss, and maybe soften Hermione’s mood. He found some in a large chest, that like the Tent, and like Hermione’s bag of holding, was larger inside than out. Inside the chest was more like a shed, with shelves of supplies, and what Harry was sure was the Weasley’s other tent. Crawling in, he found blankets easily enough, but as he rummaged through them he stumbled upon some things — there were old soup cans, boxes of dry detergent, an old crate of muggle things (an electric drill, and some old board games), dusty looking candies, and a basket of toiletries. He almost didn’t give it a second look, but he saw that they were girl’s things — tampons, a packet of hair ties, flowery shampoos, and nestled down beneath everything, a packet of nappies. Well not nappies, Harry decided as he looked closer, they were Pullups. nighttime pullups, DryNites✫ brand to be exact. Harry stared at them for a long while, partly because he knew to whom these things must belong, and partly because it was a welcome distraction from everything else going on. The last time either tent had been used, had been for the Quidditch World Cup, and the Girls tent was where Hermione and Ginny stayed. These were Ginny’s things. Ginny’s nappies. The thought somehow made him feel closer to Ginny. He knew he should be embarrassed for her, but he saw her in his imagination, clearer than he’d done in months. Going to bed in the tent, slipping on the humiliating thing. Why? She must have a problem, a bed-wetting problem? Or else, an all-the-time problem? Regardless, this secret was his now. Something he shared with her. A bit of intimacy. He imagined her in them, as he slipped one out of the package. And he saw her body, mostly naked, as she pulled one up her legs. And then he saw her in the morning, somehow waking up beside him, and he’s reaching down, and saying: “Looks like you’re wet again, Ginny.” And she replies, her cheeks blushing to match her hair: “I’m sorry.” But he’d have none of it. He’d help her, tearing the yellowed nappy at the seams, and cleaning her most sensitive bits with a wipe. She’d lean into him, feeling safe, and happy, and taken care of. He wanted that most: to hold her, and take care of her. Without realizing it he’d developed an erection, and embarrassed with himself, he quickly returned the pull-ups and things to the shelves. With one last look he grabbed the blankets climbed out of the Chest, trying to make sure everything looked as he’d found it. As his feet touched the floor of the tent, he turned to Hermione, her nose in a book as always. “Did you know that chest is bloody huge inside?” He asked, but she only looked at him. Eyes bloodshot with tears, and her look answered for her. “Of course I know that Harry,” it said. “You’re an idiot.” If the blankets, left folded upon her bunk, had any effect on her mood at all it might have made things worse. Over the next day she hardly said a word, and left Harry almost entirely on his own. All there was to do was to look at books, and listen to the wind howling outside. Hermione would cry, sometimes, but she didn’t let him see it. She missed Ron. He knew she hoped, wished, prayed, that Ron would return and Harry wanted nothing more than for her to get what she wanted. And as if it had heard him (which should have been an enormous red flag) the answer appeared before him: in a book of potions. It all but fell open to the perfect spell, the perfect way to undo the damage he’d done, and bring Ron back; and looking at the ingredients it didn’t even look all that difficult, and it was topical, meaning all he’d have to do is put her in contact with it (It would have been a real difficulty to get her to drink a potion). They had a cauldron they’d mostly been using for heating soups, and nearly all the ingredients were food-like enough. He was also willing to bet that Hermione was so engrossed in both her book and her concerted effort to ignore him that she wouldn’t notice even if the recipe require a Bog’s Heart; she’d ignore even the worst smells or loudest bubbles, he was sure. Maybe it was the influence of the horcrux, or something else, but the whole time he was assembling the potion he couldn’t imagine what would go wrong. Through his bitter feelings and thoughts he couldn’t see his friend Hermione, and he couldn’t believe she’d want anything else than Ron. The worst that would happen is it would banish him, replace Harry with Ron, which was what he felt he deserved. Walking with the potion, holding it in a tea cup, as he moved toward her he knew what he wanted. It had hurt her so much to choose Harry over Ron — to choose the mission over... whatever those two were. He wanted to help her make a different choice, or remove that choice from the table completely. As he approached he made like he’d slipped, and “spilled” the tea on her lap. “Harry!” she yelped, jumping up, and all her anger welled in her. She looked at him, and he waited for it. Bracing himself for banishment, or punishment. She seethed, and shook, “Honestly, I wish you’d just...” she began, and he closed his eyes, almost afraid of what would happen next. But a moment passed, and when he opened them again she’d deflated. She looked at him sweetly, with all the warmth and pity pouring out on her face. She looked cute, and like she needed a hug. Normally he didn’t let himself think of her that way, but she also looked very pretty. He watched her, still half-hoping she’d say the right thing, or at least think it in her head. But then his eyes wandered down, past her house-coat to her soaked crotch, and without thinking he thought of Ginny’s Pull-ups. It did look like she’d had an accident, she did look like... “I just wish you’d get what you want.” Hermione completed her sentence and panic rose in Harry. He sat frozen, but after a long few seconds nothing happened. He’d mucked up the potion. They were safe. ✫DryNites is the brand in the UK, and debuted in 1994 (the same year as the quidditch world cup) at this point they would be plain white with just a DryNites/GoodNites tag on the back. Some notes on this... I did try to match JK's voice, and generally be british-y as much as possible so that it wouldn't be jarring, but I'm american, and I'm not going to kill myself to be perfect in that regard. Also, I'd prefer to use the word Diaper, but it just makes no sense. I tried to be as accurate to the books as I could as well, and I'm pretty sure my nerdy obsession with HP has helped there. I reread the relevant chapters, and I'm pretty sure I got it fairly close, and the timeline does (and will) make sense. And then as far as the tent I'm purposely going with the tent as represented in the books and the Goblet of Fire film. In Deathly Hollows the filmmakers decided to make the tent much more spartan, which I get, it fits with the mood, but would make it really hard for any of this to work. It also makes no sense. This is a good illustration of what I'm working with: https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=cjG7QP5IL8c Thank you so much for reading! I have more chapters in the pipeline I'll be posting on Friday!
  10. This is a short commission we got for a mechanical nursery story in the world of Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid, which is an amazing anime and you should totally watch it! Only 12 episodes, and it's getting a season 2 very soon. Anyway! Enjoy the story. It's only four chapters, but the completed PDF and ePub are already available on our Patreon. Please consider supporting us! ~~~~~~~~~~~ Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Babies by: Sophie & Pudding *Commissioned by: Anonymous Chapter One: "What is it?" Saikawa asked. Kanna looked up at the machine with wide, curious eyes. "I dunno." Yesterday, Kobayashi brought it home. It was something from work, something she was supposed to fix. It had a programming error and Kobayashi's job was to resolve programming errors. But Tohru was determined to figure it out herself. She ran out to the store to buy a programming book, so she could help Kobayashi with her job. That left Kanna - the youngest dragon - and Saikawa - her friend from school - alone with the machine. "Lady Tohru said not to touch it," Kanna told her friend, and went up to the machine to investigate all the same. "Lady Tohru," Saikawa reflected, walking up to the room-sized device, "isn't here, and Miss Kobayashi would let us so its okay?” The brunette girl reached over and leaned on a large lever with a big black ball on the end, which creaked down from one position to another. She held her breath, wide-eyed, but nothing happened. "See? It's fiiine!" Kanna looked onward at the large machine. "I guess it's broken after all," Kanna said to her friend, and went to pull a lever of her own. Nothing happened. So she started pushing buttons on the keypad. Each button made a small tone and Kanna started to play a song. "Beep, beep, beep," Kanna mimicked, laughing at the sound of her music. "Saikawa, maybe it's an instrument." "Oh! I could play it and you could go inside and sing, like one of those karaoke booths are the mall!" Saikawa chirped happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Maybe it prints photos too!" And a photo of Kanna for her bedroom mirror? Saikawa could just about have one of her patented freak outs over that! "Oh, okay." Kanna looked around the machine with confusion, then she had a moment of enlightenment. There was a large square doorway at the end of a conveyer belt - that must be where the karaoke part was. She struggled to climb up onto the belt, flashing her panties to Saikawa in the process. And cue the freak out! By the time Saikawa recovered from the head-spin and settled back down to earth, Kanna was well and truly inside the machine. "Okay uh..." No pressure, Saikawa, you can do this! Beep. Bloop. Bap. Oh, it started to make a noise. Kanna sat alone in the dark room, waiting for the screen to turn on. Where was the microphone? She couldn't sing without a microphone. Then the machine around her began to whirl and wheeze. The doors on the ends snapped shut and a bright light filled the small room. Blinded by the sudden brightness, robotic arms extended down and grabbed Kanna's dress. "Hey!" "I know, I know, Kanna, I'm trying to make it work!" Because of course, Saikawa thought that exclamation was was a grab for her attention. She didn't even consider that her crush might be in trouble. The machine pulled at Kanna's dress until it wrestled it off over her head. She reached for it in frustration, but it was all too quick. "That's mine! Give it back!" The arms disappeared into the walls and another arm came out holding a new shirt, perfectly sized to Kanna's little body. "What's yours? Oh, is it asking for money?" Saikawa leaned on a lever while she fished around in her pockets for some yen, and pursed her lips. "I have about a hundred yen, Kanna! Do you need it?" Kanna struggled with the mechanical arms, but despite her dragon-strength, she couldn't overpower or outsmart the movements of the arms. Soon, she was dressed in a pale pink shirt with white trim, with a picture of a pacifier on the front. Then the machine produced a new item from the wall, something Kanna hadn't seen in a very long time. A diaper. Though it looked no different from a baby design, it was larger, large enough to fit Kanna's small body, and much, much thicker. "Um, hold on, I'm coming in!" Saikawa offered helpfully, tripping against the control panel and landing her hand on a cluster of buttons on the way through. "I wanna be in the karaoke photo Kanna, don't hog it all!" The mechanical arms pulled Kanna's ankles high into the air. Kanna - resigned to this whole fate - crossed her arms in annoyance as the diaper was placed under her bottom. A little red laser cut the sides of her panties off and pulled them away, before a huge cloud of baby powder filled the area. "I'm a powerful dragon," Kanna muttered to herself, "and this dumb box is treating me like a little baby." When Saikawa got to the door, she was no help at all, not with the way she started screaming and freaking out. Kanna was so fricking cute! The diaper was unexpected… but Kanna was a tiny gothic lolita girl and it worked just fine for her. Kanna was lying on her back, looking up at her friend with irritation all over her face, dressed in nothing but the diaper and t-shirt. "This is stupid," she muttered, before the conveyer belt moved again. Saikawa was forced into the brightly lit room and a door shut behind her. Then, as the belt wheeled Kanna out the other end, another door locked Saikawa alone inside. "Hey! Where'd you go?!" Saikawa frumped and stomped her foot, banging on the door with her cheeks puffed out. "Hey you dumb machine give Kanna back, she looked so cute!! You can't take her away!!" Kanna fell off the edge of the convey belt onto a soft cushion. All around her, the living room of Miss Kobayashi's house had been transformed. The table and furniture was nowhere to be seen. The floor was covered in colorful padded tiles, full of toys and blocks and dolls. And more importantly, the entire room was separated by a wall of bars that went from the floor to the ceiling. Somehow, the machine had turned Miss Kobayashi's living room into a playroom. A playroom Kanna couldn't escape. "Ahhh!" A few moments following Kanna being deposited into the newly transformed living room, Saikawa followed suit, having been transformed into a diaper-wearing overgrown babydoll, and she looked none too pleased by it either. "What is this dumb machine?!" Saikawa toddled around on the foam puzzle pieces, pressing her hands to her hips defiantly. "Where's the karaoke?!" Saikawa was wearing nothing but a diaper and her own t-shirt, which was green with a cartoon character on the front that Kanna didn't recognize. "What do we do now, Kanna? We have to escape?" "Why?" Kanna asked, still looking around the room. "What do you mean, why? Because we're trapped here!" "But look." Kanna pointed to the toys, the dolls... "We could play. No one can bother us in here, even Lady Tohru." Saikawa watched Kanna sit on the floor and pick up one of the dolls. The way she looked in her t-shirt, the thick diaper forcing her legs apart. Gosh, was there anyone cuter in the whole world? But Saikawa was a little reluctant to wear her own diaper. She reached for the tapes and tried to pull them off, but the glue had bonded firmly in place. There was no taking the diaper off unless the machine took it off for her. So, in a huff, she sat down next to her adorable friend and started to play alongside her. "I kind of like it," Kanna said, a few minutes later, after tucking the dolls in for bedtime. The clock on the wall showed that Tohru would be home any second now from the store. And that got Kanna thinking... "I'm already quite young. And playing with you, Saikawa? It's very nice." Saikawa’s cheeks went crimson. She hadn't had any real friends before Kanna - everyone always teased her for being a know-it-all, even though she didn't know very much in the first place. But if staying Kanna's best friend meant wearing diapers? Then fine! She'd do it! For Kanna! "Yeah, me too! It's very nice." Another ten minutes passed, and Kanna climbed up from her place on the colorful tiled floor. She walked over to the bars of the playpen and tried to slip through. But of course, she couldn't. Maybe she could turn into a dragon and-- oh, but she'd break the roof of the house no doubt. Finally Kanna sighed and returned to her friend. "I have to use the restroom." Saikawa looked up at Kana with a bright smile and nodded her head. "Well, babies don't use the bathroom. And you want to be a baby, right?" Kanna gave her a blank look. Frustrated? Or confused? Saikawa couldn't tell. "I mean... um. Well, we're wearing diapers. So... so we could keep playing. And forget about using the bathroom." Kanna looked at Saikawa with uncertainty, thinking about the things her friend had just said. About forgetting to use the bathroom. She looked down at the puffy diaper between her legs and poked it with the tip of her finger. After a moment of thought, Kanna nodded and sat back down with the toys. She was a baby now. She'd decided. Saikawa watched Kanna wiggle on the padded tiles. She watched Kanna's feet quiver and watched her hips squirm. But ultimately, like every other little girl, Kanna gave up trying. A small breath escaped her lips. Relief washed over Kanna's face. And Saikawa smiled as she noticed Kanna's diaper growing yellow and heavy between her legs. Kanna sat there in her own humiliation, in her own warm diaper, and bit shyly on her lip. She should have been ashamed. She should have tried harder to resist. But she didn't. Was she really a baby now? She looked down at the toys in front of her. She never had to stop playing now. She didn't need to do big girl things anymore. She could do whatever she wanted. And Tohru would change her diapers. Or the machine would. Yeah, Kanna was okay with this. Kanna could be a baby from now on. Saikawa sat uncomfortably and wiggled in place. Come on, Saikawa, she thought to herself. Just do it. You can be just like Kanna! We can be little babies together! But what if someone at school found out? But if Kanna did it, it had to be cool, right? Kanna was more important to Saikawa than anyone. So she finally found the courage to let go, to force herself to break all her potty training habits, and flood her diaper. And as the warmth washed over her, she didn't feel ashamed or embarrassed. She felt relief. This was the start of a wonderful life together with Kanna, she thought. And she had no regrets. ~~~~~ Thank you for reading! Please like and comment!
  11. Hello all who choose to check this topic out. I am wanting to do a new role play with someone, or multiple people, in a already existing world. I am wanting to do an adult baby fanfiction roleplay where we pick a fictional world, such as Avatar, Fairy Tail, AoT, ect, and create our own characters and develop a story in it adding in adult baby elements. Here is what I am looking for in this 1) I would like in deph characters, with traits, roles, and personalities, with room to develop. So no characters just called mom or brother. 2) I would like to do this with someone willing to communicate so we can keep on the same page on the RP. 3) Replies should be three sentences minimum. You don't need to make an entire page in your reply but I DO NOT want one word replies. 4) I will only be adding the AB fetish in this and maybe some light BDSM but if you would like to add in another fetish please run it by me first. Explain what fetish you are wanting and how you would like it used. I have not decides what world I would like this to be in so if you have any suggestions let me know here or PM me.
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