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Spire of Submission - Chapter 7 (10/2/24)
LittleFallenPrincess posted a topic in Story and Art Forum
Here is the next chapter of my brand new story - Spire of Submission! I've been so excited to post this first chapter! I hope you all enjoy it! A tower in the neighbouring province has been an issue for far too long, and a hopeless band of adventurers will be chosen to take on the Spire, with promise of riches and power... if they can survive. Set in a fantasy world (think Dungeons and Dragons) full of elves, dwarves, tieflings, magic, demons and warlocks, this story will see our adventurers take on the Spire, in the hope of defeating the Mistress who resides there. This story is a bit of a slow burner when it comes to the ABDL content, and there are other... interests... in it. It is also not like my usual stories. It's not told by a protagonist, instead being told by a narrator, and it is not like my romance stories. I can't even promise a happy ending. This will be a challenge for the party, and not everyone will make it out... if any. But it will be kinky and fun. So I hope you enjoy it, even if it's not like my usual stories! I feel like the humour is the same as Infernum, so if you liked that, you should like this! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them. They really help with the motivation to write more! Especially when it comes to new stories and stories like this that aren't my usual thing! Especially when it's a story not connected to either of my main series. Don't forget you get get 2 week early access (so 4 chapters) to my main ongoing story, if you subscribe to my Subscribestar. Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others! Chapter 1: The Tavern Spire of Submission – LittleFallenPrincess The sun began to set across the crooked sign for the local inn, causing nearby traders to start packing up their goods to head home before the darkness comes… and all manners of dangers begin showing up in search of unaware travellers or food. Which in these parts of the Audrasta Empire… were often the same thing. Sure, the town had guards; the King ensured that all their subjects were protected, no matter where they decided to settle down in the Empire. Problem was, some were more ‘well-guarded’ than others. And Rosehaven… well it was a small town on the border, close to the Oblivion Province. And it was not one of these lucky settlements. And for the longest time… that bordering province was considered non-hostile. It had no armies, no capital… just small villages apparently full of feral bandits who never ventured out, surviving purely on the unaware traveller that passed through. But not once did any of them make the crossing over to Rosehaven. And then there was the Spire, but not once had anything stepped foot outside of it. That’s why no one ventured out that way. Tales told throughout generations meant that there was no need for a large garrison, that the Oblivion Province was not dangerous… provided you stayed out of it. At least that’s what they say. So with its two guards, both of whom were stationed here due to insubordination, the small village of Rosehaven began settling down for the night, before the nearby forest woke up and all its inhabitants started hunting the outskirts for lone travellers. But as the quaint little village started settling down, with its small cottages, its tiny array of stores, its rather cramped marketspace, and its handful of farms… its tavern started waking up. During the daylight hours, the Dazzling Leaf Pub was… well… It was a shithole. It was a run down old pub that hadn’t seen a new fresh piece of wood or a non-rusty nail in what was probably decades. The drinks were watered down, the food was stale and off, and the company was… questionable. And during the twilight hours… well… It was the same shithole, just a bit rowdier. But to Rosehaven, it was their shithole. It was the one good place to socialise, to get out of the house, to get away from the boring, monotonous lives the villagers led. It was also the only place the adventurers would gather in, every ten years, when the village mayor put out the same quest he and all his predecessors had put out every decade. So tonight… it was going to be busier than usual. Ten years to the day was the last time the adventurers, mercenaries and do-gooders gathered in this shithole-of-a-tavern to drink the last remaining hours away, all before one group was chosen to enter the tower and try to slay the Mistress there. And like clockwork, more adventurers, mercenaries and do-gooders have shown up to take on the same quest that the previous group failed to complete. Determined to defeat the Mistress of the Domination Spire, the Mayor put out the same bounty every ten years, when the doors to the tower magically opened, to attract any groups they could… to kill the Demon Queen. And every time, more suckers turned up, despite knowing full well that the previous group who had been chosen… were never seen again. And it’s been like this for over a hundred years now. You see, the doors to the Domination Spire open only every ten years, allowing entry for anyone stupid enough to go in. Nothing ever came out, mind you, and no one who went in ever returned. So you may be asking why send adventurers to their inevitable deaths? Why risk it when the Domination Spire shows no threat or hostility to the village? Well… It started off hundreds of years ago, back when the village was more of a bustling town than the run-down quaint village you see today. Every ten years, the tower doors opened, and the town thought nothing of it as the Spire was miles away from them. It wasn’t even in the Empire’s lands, so they dismissed it and went on with their lives. Around that same time, there were a few disappearances every year, seven… to be exact. And it took a while, it wasn’t until the Mayor’s daughter had disappeared that they finally started noticing this phenomenon. One that had been going on for a lot longer than they realised. Ten years later… Another seven went missing. Then another seven. The Mayor at the time, still distraught from losing his daughter two decades ago, didn’t put two and two together until it was too late… when his Granddaughter went missing. Then a note appeared. A sealed note, sealed with a wax symbol of the tower. ‘I will return this child. I have no use for her. But you owe me an adult soul.’ So the Mayor instantly put out a quest for all adventurers to enter the tower… and recover his Granddaughter. Many adventurers took up the quest, preparing themselves and heading into the Dormant Vale, where the Spire stood… waiting. And as the first adventurer, sword in hand, entered… the doors shut, magically sealing themselves before anyone could react. No matter what they did, they couldn’t break through the seal. Fire had no effect. Hammers shattered upon impact. Some even brought a battering ram, only for it to burst into flames… along with the adventurers carrying it. All hope had been lost, until hours later… The door opened and out walked a little girl, looking for her Grandfather. Safely returned, the Granddaughter told the Mayor that the Mistress of the tower required seven souls every ten years. That’s it. No bloodlines specifically, no specifics about who it could be… just… anyone. But there had to be seven. Ten years later, as his last act as Mayor before stepping down due to old age, the Mayor rounded up all the vagrants about town. Drunkards, layabouts… anyone society deemed as ‘unproductive’, and lead them to the tower. The doors opened, the sacrifices were made… and no one disappeared from the village that decade. Ten years later, the next mayor did the same. And ten years after that. But eventually… they ran out of ‘undesirables’, and had to look elsewhere. Instantly, the community started looking inwards, trying to judge who could be sacrificed and who couldn’t. Until… the Granddaughter of the previous Mayor stepped up, now a young woman… and suggested that they hire adventurers. If the adventurers make their way in and somehow manage to slay the Mistress… then they can keep the riches of the tower and the village never has to worry about her ever again. But if they fall… then they reach the quota of sacrifices for the decade and the village tries again ten years later. So it’s a win-win. And so here we are, many… many decades later, having been through countless adventuring parties… the day before the ten year mark, when the sacrifices need to be made. ---------+++++++--------- “I know we’re technically sacrifices… but do we really reckon we’ll kill the bitch?” the angry-sounding halfling grumbled, before lifting his tankard vertically as to obtain peak-chugging capability. “What I want to know is… why seven?” asked the pointy-eared devout, as she sipped her drink slowly. She had never been one to drink much, and her party knew it… that’s why they gave her the biggest tankard. To ‘calm her nerves’ before the Spire tomorrow… or so they’d tell themselves. Really, they just wanted to watch the devout cleric get drunk and dance on the table naked for once. “Why seven? Well it’s clearly some ritual or spell,” the dwarf commented as she stuffed scraps of food into a pouch. “But hey, that means we have a better chance at getting picked in the morning, as looking around now… these other parties drinking tonight are much smaller. It’ll be easier to pick us than stitch some other smaller groups together and hope they fight well enough together to beat that demonic bitch.” “Yes, but Herta… do we even want to be picked?” the tiefling said to the dwarf ranger sitting beside her, as she looked at her adventuring companion with disgust. “I heard no one’s ever even made it out alive…” The differences between the ranger and the warlock were as clear as day, as one clearly loved roughing it out in the wild, sleeping under trees, communing with animals and foraging… and the other… Well, the warlock tiefling had standards. “Or even out, full stop,” the Half-elf hovering at the edge of the group added, lending their voice to the conversation finally. “Look, let’s just enjoy tonight,” the Paladin ordered to the other six, trying his best to sound commanding, because he loved the way everyone looked at him as if he was the leader of the group. “We’re probably going to get picked tomorrow morning, so we need to be rested and ready. So first thing, before the Mayor calls us all to the village square… get your equipment prepared, got that?” There was no real leader of this party, they were all equally incompetent in some way and were either too arrogant to consider voting for anyone but themselves as leader… or were too anxious to vote for anyone else… in the worry that others would be upset. Herta, the stout dwarf ranger with scruffy brown hair, wearing roughed-up leather armour, communed with animals so well that she has been invited into wolf packs, which led to her gaining her current companion, Trace, who is patiently sat outside the tavern due to a ‘no pets allowed’ sign hanging above the front door. And despite a lot of arguing and well-reasoned points… the tavernkeep had told her that the wolf had to wait outside. Herta was a stocky dwarf, with a love of alcohol, and a soft spot for her animal companions… but when it came to people… she was hopeless. It’s not like she didn’t trust them… but… well… no, she didn’t trust them, and would happily sacrifice them if it meant saving her wolf. This party is the closest she’s ever got to actual people, and she was slowly warming up to them, especially after they survived their last quest together. To her though, they still rank below a squirrel she saw once. Maybe above a slug. Magnus, the overconfident Paladin who normally would be wearing his signature heavy plate armour… was a darker-skinned human with perfectly cut jet black hair… who had been born with a silver spoon stuck up his arse. Which would explain the superiority complex this man has now. Desperate to ‘fight evil and save the innocent’… This man felt righteous in his quest for justice… but didn’t realise that he just looked down on everyone because he felt like he was superior to them, all because of his status as a Paladin. If this man was here to save you, he’d be just as likely to smite you by accident if you stood too close to his enemy. …And then he’d blame you for it. Thistle, the Half-elf dressed in the stereotypical messy green and brown druid robes, with brown hair and a youthful appearance, was a small, timid creature, perhaps even rivalling the elf cleric in how anxious they were around people. They were very similar, apart from the fact that Thistle didn’t put themselves down as much as the other elf in the group, they were actually pretty confident about their abilities. It was mostly just social interaction that the druid was lacking on, mostly due to growing up in the forests in a small druidic commune where no one talked to each other. Despite knowing the group for over a year now, since they were grouped up for another quest by a Lord miles from here, no one could tell if Thistle was male or female. And when one of them would finally get the courage to ask… Thistle just laughed and shrugged it off, never actually answering them. They loved that no one could tell, and made them feel so happy and so… them. Serrill was the other elf, though she wasn’t a half-elf like Thistle, she was a High-elf. Serrill grew up in a small village, quickly becoming a Cleric, one who worshipped one of the smaller Deities of the Empire, one that brought her childhood village good crops and a scarcity of disease. And for this, she trained to become a Cleric and travel the world, to do good and help others to thank her deity for all the privileges she had growing up. Serrill was definitely the most shy one of the group, often not standing up for herself, and only being part of the group because they needed a healer and she happened to be the only one around. And it’s not like she could just tell them no… she didn’t want to disappoint anyone. With a lack of self confidence, blonde hair, very pointy ears, her trusty staff, and her favourite blue robes that were always clean when she put them on in the morning (thanks to her deity), she worked her arse off keeping this catastrophe-of-a-group alive, often causing her to run out of magic and collapse. But not once is she ever thanked for it. Not that she’ll complain… that would just cause drama and that’s even worse than getting no recognition to her. Vico was the halfling currently choking on the ale he attempted to chug in one go. He’s an idiot. That’s it. Fine. If you had to describe this feral barbarian half-pint in five or more words… ‘No brain, compensates with rage’. Wearing what would be more accurately described as ‘scraps’ or ‘rags’... this little ball of rage favoured no armour at all, as even leather armour would slow him down. He had a great big brown bushy beard and a matching brown mohawk that just made him look feral more than anything. He clearly didn’t take any effort in his appearance, as no doubt it’d just get covered in whatever monster’s entrails he’d be fighting later. Even his backpack was falling apart, which made his companions wonder just what he spends his money on, because it clearly wasn’t himself. If you’re wondering… it’s ale. Ale and a weird multi-level marketing scheme he fell for years ago… one that he swears is going to pay off eventually. Isolde is the bard. Because what party isn’t complete without an idiotic annoying creature that loves to flirt with literally anything that can form a sentence. Sometimes not even that. With ginger hair, a pretty face, and a great body for a human… you’d think that this charisma-focused musician would get action wherever the party goes… but she can’t even do that right. She has all the charisma… but also has the worst luck imaginable. It’s led to some of the party thinking she may be cursed, as she should by all means be able to sweet-talk anyone into anything, but no matter what… she is being constantly rejected and ignored by everyone and everything. She’d often wear something slutty, in the hope that she’d get some action, but even with this body-formed brown leather armour she had custom made to hug her curves and show off her cleavage, the only ‘fiddling’ she was getting… was from her own instrument. Aurelia was the refined Tiefling warlock, sipping her drink slowly, savouring the little flavour it had. As mentioned before, Aurelia has standards. Which begs the question… Why did she decide to join this group of all groups? A refined, red-skinned tiefling, with perfectly brushed black hair, a perfectly ironed black robe, and a taste for the finer things. You’d think she’d have found a better group by now, but for some reason she likes adventuring with these six failures. Whether it’s to boost her ego, or to rob their bodies when they inevitably die… no one but her knows. She’s also the direct antithesis of Isolde. This woman gets laid. A lot. But she doesn’t brag about it or openly flirt like her companion. She doesn’t need to. And despite their failures and their problems… this party has managed to stay alive for the past year, managing to take on jobs across the Empire, until they heard from another party that there was an upcoming quest. One that promised untold riches… if you survived. So being the party of idiots and people too anxious to speak up… they bravely made their way to the quaint little village of Rosehaven and settled down in the tavern, waiting for the announcement tomorrow morning. ======================================================= It's always scary posting the first chapter of a new story. You'd think having posted 11 other first chapters on here... it'd get easier. But this being a new story and a new series for me... makes it even scarier. So I hope you like it! Obviously, with it being such a uninvolved first chapter, mostly setting some stuff up... there won't be much to comment on as the story hasn't even gotten started properly yet and you haven't really properly met our characters yet. But I hope that you love them all as much as my other characters from my other series! And I promise it won't take long for the story to get going, even if some other things in this story are a bit of a slow burner. But despite this, comments are greatly appreciated, especially with this being a new story. So please let me know what you think, even at such an early stage. ❤️ Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks! -
I woke up to the matron gently brushing my long hair. A common occurrence as we were fed sleeping potions to ensure we slept. I was still dressed in my pajamas. A bright Pink nightie with a lamb logo which matched the mark on my cheek that had been their ever since she'd been born. The outfit was completed by a pair of bright Pink frilly panties. After the matron finished brushing my hair she went to a nearby cabinet and I groaned as I saw her come back with a jar of healing potion. "Open wide sweetie! Here comes the Choo Choo train." "N-" I tried to protest but the thick slimy gloop was spoonfed down my mouth. They had been feeding it to me for a week now to get rid of any muscle mass I might developed. It was the same for any lambmarked that was about turn 21. Once the potion took effect I felt my body get incredibly weak. Not that it really mattered. As a lamb marked I wasn't allowed to dress myself, feed myself, and until recently I hadn't even been allowed to learn something as basic as my numbers or abcs. Of course all of the knowledge was imparted to me through a spell, but knowing how to read was so much more fun then being forced to snuggle with a stuffy because we weren't allowed to play with toys in case we learned something. Of course I was only allowed to read children's story books even though they had granted me a college reading level. I was placed in the stroller, being too weak to walk, and strolled over to the most hated room in the entire building. The sticky room. "Allright sweetie! It's time to make a whole lot of stickies!" The matrons always stressed out words to make them as sachiringly sweet as possible. We all hated stickies. It wasn't that orgasms felt bad, it was that are marks made us hate them with a passion. Even know I whimpered as the mark on my cheek glowed a bright Pink forcing me to feel anxious, afraid, and a myriad of other negative emotions. Normally I'd already be balling my eyes out, but I remembered that today was my last day at the home. I like any lamb would be being sent to the Richmond Academy. So I steeled myself and to my surprise managed to avoid crying. My sense of pride was short lived as I found myself over my matron's lap before I could even blink. "We. Do. Not. Fight. Balra's blessing." Each words was accented with slap to my butt and it only took 5 spanks to have me a balling mess as the mark glowed increasing the pain a hundred fold. I decided to be a good girl and let the negative feelings wash over me and as I did every day I let out a loud and genuine "Waaaaaaaaaa!!!" As I was strolled into the sticky room. The sticky room itself wasn't anything special. Just a small room with a single plush chair and a magical circle imprinted into the ground. The only strange part was the restraints that were locked around my wrists and ankles. Throughout the whole process I cried, begged, yelled, and even threw a tantrum much to the pleasure of my matron. In essence I was being a good little lamb. A lamb was not a good girl. Because good girls were expected to grow up. A lamb was expected to never mature. Being a good girl here at the home meant acting as childishly as you could at all times. It wasn't long as the circle started thrum and glow with pink motes of mana. I whimpered as I waited for the hated pleasure to come. |||| Hope yous guys enjoyed! If you'd like to support me... I Uh don't have a subscribestar, maybe in the future, buuut if your a fellow author feel free to do your own take on the setting. Anyways. See yall next week.
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The Trinket By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Hunter Chapter One The Will Hunter sighed as his mother, who he was currently on the phone with, continued to drawl about the contractual obligations he now had to abide by. His great aunt, or now his late great aunt, had left him a few things in her will that came with a few specific rules. The fennec fox had barely known her, other than seeing her at a Christmas party and once during Thanksgiving when he was very young. She was not really even his aunt, being an in-law and a cheetah to boot. He had heard a few stories about her, some from his mother who had always spoken about her with a degree of awe mixed with disapproval. Whether or not she was even really his aunt in-law was in question sometimes, but her presence in the family was nevertheless appreciated, if not coveted. She had been an Egyptianologist, but not the kind that mostly stays on the campus of a university. Accused several times of being no better than a bounty hunter with a college degree, she would often beguile whoever cared to listen at the taverns and bars she was often found at about her great adventures in the middle east. There were usually many stories told and drinks bought during such evenings. Her alcoholism aside, she had apparently kept up her taste for adventuring into abandoned tombs and caves right up until the very end. They never recovered her, but enough time had passed where her body had been declared lost and her vast collection of artifacts reclaimed by the museums and universities. Judging from their hasty reclamation of such items, they had been waiting for exactly such an opportunity as her disappearance. They had claimed most of the artifacts, at least. “So like, dumb it down for me a bit, Mom?” Hunter asked, a slight note of exasperation coloring his tone of voice as one of his large ears flicked to the side in irritation. It was his mother’s turn to sigh, which was followed up by a response. “You just can’t sell any of the stuff. You’re supposed to keep it as if it were a family heirloom. There’s some evidence to support that this does belong to us give or take a hundred generations.” Hunter replied back. “Right, don’t sell. Just keep it. Anything else?” “Not until they go through the rest of her possessions and check her records. You might be getting some money too, but that’ll take a while.” Right… After the state takes its hefty cut… Hunter thought to himself, but he did his best to keep his sense of sarcasm out of the conversation. “Great, thanks Mom.” “Of course honey, was there anything else you wanted to know about Auntie Tare?” Hunter, knowing that this would probably prolong the conversation for another good hour, shook his head before realizing that his mother could not see his reaction. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hrm… No, no. I think I’m good for now, still… Processing and all that. I’ll talk to you later Mom.” “Okay sweetie, let me know what’s in the box. It looks mysterious!” “Yeah, I will. Love you Mom.” “Love you sweetie, bye bye now.” The line went silent, and Hunter put his phone down on the table with a sigh of relief. As silence enveloped the apartment, interrupted only by the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the fennec’s gaze drifted over to the box that sat in front of him on the dining room table. The word that could describe the wooden container could only be described as ornate. Carvings of Egyptian hieroglyphs laced with what he suspected was gold lining on the borders of the miniature crate gave the appearance of a most valuable item being stored inside. The wood had been treated with oil, and with great care as well. Part of him wondered if the box might be empty, as the container itself looked relatively valuable. Whatever it was, he was not surprised that his aunt had mentioned that he was not allowed to sell it. I’d probably make a pretty penny off of it too… Hunter mused to himself, as he pushed his chair back and stood up, only to crouch in front of the box in order to more closely examine its decor. He was not literate in Egyptian hieroglyphs, nor was he particularly interested in learning more about them. History had always bored the little fox, and despite having a renowned, though estranged, Egyptologist in the family it never sparked the same fascination and excitement as it did in Aunt Tare. Well, might as well have a look then. Reaching forward, he undid the clasp on the front of the box and pushed the lid open. Its hinges worked silently, and Hunter immediately noted that the entire inside of the box was laced with a vibrant, purple velvet. Amidst the swathes of cloth, Hunter beheld a palm sized brooch made of a mixture of dulled copper and gold. Marveling at it, the fennec’s eyes widened as he scanned its surface. The fennec picked it up with a paw and noted its significant weight. Equipped with a pin which Hunter presumed was intended to keep a cloak around a traveler’s shoulders, Hunter turned the brooch over and let out a surprised breath. The ornament had been placed upside down in its container, and it was studded with several small jewels with one large piece in its center. Peering closely at them, it took Hunter a moment to realize that they were opals. In the center of the metal disk, the largest of the opals was oval in shape. It gleamed as if freshly polished when it caught the last of the afternoon sun streaming from Hunter’s half shuttered window. A small scratch in the center of the opal was the only blemish on the piece, revealing the rainbow colored insides of the gem that refracted in ever changing patterns of color as he turned it over. Strangely, despite the fact that it had been sitting in the box ever since it had been delivered to his doorstep inside of its own, discrete cardboard container, the brooch was warm to the touch. And it felt like it was getting warmer. “It’s… pretty…” Hunter said lamely, to no one in particular. His initial curiosity had been sated, and he was now coming to the conclusion that he really had no use for the gem-encrusted display piece other than to perhaps show it off for his friends. The more he thought about it, being the owner of such a valuable piece now might mean that he would have to take insurance out on it. Great… Another responsibility… The fennec thought grimly to himself. Hunter was about to set the artifact down, when the opal flashed catching his eyes. Blinking, he looked down at the gem and wondered if he had imagined the sudden luminescence that had come from the piece. Gingerly, he brought it back up to his eyes and peered closely at the scratch on the gem’s surface to see if he had missed some refractive angle inside of the opal’s crack. Seeing that there was nothing he could immediately detect, he placed the brooch back down in its comfortable bed, this time right side up with the opal facing the ceiling of his apartment. He thought about where he should put the box, glancing around his apartment and seeing now apparent free space where he might rest it. I’ll probably just chuck it into my closet or something… His stomach rumbled, reminding him that his mother’s phone call had caused him to miss lunch at a reasonable hour. Closing the box, he decided to put his inheritance out of his mind for the time being. Padding over to his closet, he picked out his jacket and fumbled the keys to his apartment out of the bowl they rested in. I’m kind of hankering for some chicken… He thought to himself, his mind already beginning to drift away from the strange set of rocks that were now his, now and forever. He did, however, check twice that he had locked the door to his apartment before bounding down the staircase leading to the lobby of his apartment complex.
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Monika was out on a mission. The high elven warrior had just finished slaying a dragon, and she was on her way to deliver some very prized stolen jewelry to the king and queen. She had some scratches and burns on her skin, but she couldn't worry about that now- she was due back before dark, and she didn't want to miss out on her rightful reward. She had been trained to serve the royals since she first discovered her ability to bend fire, and she had gone through more training than most of the current living Knight fleet. Nonetheless, she was an elf, and not a human, so she was not granted royal status. Therefore, she needed all the money she could get. The tough warrior's plans were put to a quick halt, however, when she heard crying in the woods she was trekking through. She frowned, looked around for any sign of danger, and made her way towards the sounds, ready to burn anything that dared to cross her path. What she discovered however, was not some damsel being accosted by a beast, but a little fairy, who had her wings caught in a bear trap! Monika paused, taking in the situation, before she carefully approached. "You! Are you alone? Who did this to you?" She demanded. If this was a trap set to steal what she had rightfully rescued, those who set it up would pay. As it was, however, it was just a poor little creature who was crying and scared. She had probably been there for days too, as she was dirty and looking quite worse for wear.
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Tristan Stone was a lot of things a slayer of dragons, rescue of princesses, courageous, slayer of the evil and breaker of hearts of young maidens everywhere, yes he was brave, daring, cunning and most of all very good looking, yes his exploits and adventures were world renowned or at least that's what he would tell anyone at the local tavern. Truth be told while Tristan was a knight and he was very good looking, the problem is all his adventures and exploits were lies he never slavered a dragon or fought an evil Warlock, while he was cunning he was also tricky, vain, arrogant and selfish. His achievements he had stolen from others thanks to many tricks like a potion to erase someone's memory of the last 5 hours, or waiting for the real hero to weaken the monster get killed and then attack the creature from behind or just sneak in while the creature was distracted to rescue the princess and steal the sacred treasure, yes Tristan Stone was a terrible and the worst example of a knight. So when a bounty for the death of a powerful mysterious sorceress and her powerful ogre, Tristan couldn't resist especially when the promise was to be made King when the job was completed. Tristan had set out with his bag of tricks potions, explosives and traps, his plan was to trick the ogre which he knew for a fact ogres were stupid, then poison it making it go wild and unruly before running away and watching it as it destroyed the cave where it's mistress lived before causing a cave in with explosives and before getting proof and running back to the king for his reward.
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16-year-old Zelinda Seacrest is a vegetable, stuck in a coma for 11 years and counting. Her mother Zentroz is worried about the health of her daughter, hoping every day that she would awaken from her endless sleep. But unbeknownst to her mother, Zelinda's dreams have served as a wondrous, attractive, and nearly permanent destination since they began 11 years ago. A magical kingdom paradise born from her imagination, with Zelinda princess over it all. And with an imagination that has grown beyond her wildest dreams, Zelinda ventures to the surface of her subconscious, bringing her overactive imagination with her. Meanwhile, Zentroz grows restless with her husband Jonathan as they receive news of the moment that they were waiting for. A care-free Zelinda finally awakens, ready to experience the strange new world that awaits her. And with the kingdom in her mind, she slowly introduces it to her parents, before gradually growing homesick of her dream world again. The thought of the mysterious dream world that her daughter describes begins to worry Zentroz. And her daughter's growing attachment to it worries her even more. And as the days and weeks go by with Zelinda's numerous revisits to the land of her imagination, her daughter begins to change more and more. What was this mysterious land that she spent so much time in? Why does Zelinda keep becoming more and more different? Before any of Zentroz's questions could even be answered, Zelinda becomes as mysterious as the dream world that she first experienced in her coma and her parents begin to find themselves right in the middle of their daughter's fantasy world. Welcome to the kingdom born from imagination. Welcome to Zelinda's Garden. I. The Planting Chapter 1: Nowhere Zelinda Seacrest’s eyes looked so empty that you would believe that there’s nothing inside her. Her eyes never changed or moved. If you were to try to talk to her, you would clearly get no answer. All you would get is a glance of her dazed stupor. A robotic glance devoid of any real intelligence. Her hazel hair flowed down to her shoulders. Her face was lightly freckled with a couple areas of acne starting to form. Her left bra strap sagged over the v-neck of her sky-blue dress. Lacking any awareness, Zelinda continued to stare into nothing. While her own heartbeat proved that she was alive, Zelinda was nowhere to be found. She was sitting on a soft tan couch, with her neck hunched over. Her parents sat beside her, impatiently looking at their phones for the time. “When is he coming?” Jonathan said, staring up from his phone screen. “It’s three minutes after four! The doctor is three minutes late!” “Calm down, dear.” Zentroz said, patting her hand on his right shoulder. “Maybe she’s with another patient.” Zentroz gazed over at her teenage daughter and tucked the bra strap back into her dress. “There honey. I fixed it.” But Zelinda didn’t respond. She maintained her same blank stare as usual. “Why do you talk to her?” Jonathan said, sighing. “She is not even there!” “How do you know?” Zentroz asked him. “There might be something going on inside her. You don’t know!” “Do you still think that? She’s been like this for 11 years!” Zentroz took the defensive. “Maybe so, but she’s still my daughter and I want to talk to her. Isn’t that right, Zelinda dear?” She waved her hands up and down over Zelinda’s eyes, which remained still. Zentroz could remember the last time that her daughter was normal. It was just a few days after Zelinda’s fifth birthday, in the year 2043. Zentroz was putting her daughter to bed. “No mommy!” she cried. “Tell me more of the story!” Zentroz held the book shut and smiled. “Don’t want to ruin the surprise, dear. You’ll hear some more tomorrow night, okay?” She leaned over her daughter’s bed and nuzzled her nose over her daughter’s face. “I love you, dear.” Zelinda gave her mother a look of curiosity. “Mommy?” “Yes dear?” she asked, staring into her eyes. “Am I a princess, like the story you told me?” Zentroz waved her hand on her daughter’s face like a magic wand. “You are, dear. You’re a beautiful princess.” Zelinda’s face lit up and she began to smile. “Look at me, mommy! I’m a princess!” Zentroz nodded, giving her daughter a very excited face. “You are! Good night, dear!” She kissed her daughter goodnight and left the room. During that night, something strange started to happen. Zelinda quickly fell asleep and was filled with the dreams from all the stories that her mother told her. Stories about beautiful princesses and heroic princes to rescue them. Fond memories of all the playtime that she had during that day. Then it happened. In the morning, Zelinda stopped. Her face gave a blank stare, which has remained unchanged to this day. Wherever Zelinda went that one night, she never wanted to come back. The doctor finally came in and shook both Zentroz’s and Jonathan’s hand. Dr. Julia Prost greeted her patient with a warm smile. “How’s Zelinda today?” Zelinda gave her usual response, giving her a blank and emotionless stare. Dr. Prost nodded. “Fine as usual, I would guess?” She adjusted her glasses and gave Zentroz a serious stare. “I know that you want to see your daughter back in the right mind. Do you mind if we run some more tests on her again?” Jonathan sighed. “What difference would that make? You have done this every month for years!” Dr. Prost gave Jonathan a sharp stare. “Yes, I know. But what else can we do? There might be something else that we can find out about her. Something that might get you your daughter back.” Zentroz elbowed Jonathan and smiled at the doctor. “Oh, we would love that! Wouldn’t you want that, honey?” Jonathan nodded. “Yes, I would, but we’ve been down this road for about 11 years now. Do you really think that this would make any difference?” “Yes!” she sharply responded. “I think that it would make a lot of difference! Let’s just do what the doctor says. Okay?” She looked back at the doctor and nodded. “Go ahead and take her. If you have any questions regarding her, they’re all going to be the same as last time. Just to save you the time.” Dr. Prost nodded. “That’s fine. And that’s also why we would like to run some more tests on her. Just asking the same questions and trying all the same things as before isn’t going to change anything. All we can do is run some more tests. Maybe we can reach her this time.” “I hope!” Zentroz said with a smile. Dr. Prost held Zelinda by the hand and led her outside the room to the lobby with Zentroz and Jonathan following. Some other specialists were standing there, ready to take Zelinda. Zentroz’s smile faded when she saw the specialists guiding Zelinda down the hallway. “Leave her to us.” Dr. Prost said, giving her a reassuring smile. I’ve trained the new staff so they’ll know what to do with her. I’ll keep a good eye on her, okay?” Zentroz nodded. “Okay. Let’s go home, honey!” Zentroz and Jonathan left, leaving Zelinda to the doctors. The doctors ran all the usual tests on Zelinda, but the results were the same as last time. By that time, it was evening, so they placed her in one of the hospital beds. Zelinda’s blank stare retired for the day. Her eyelids drooped shut and she fell asleep. *** Zelinda watched as her mother tucked her in. That was a wonderful story. She wanted to hear more and how it turned out. Where did the princess go? What land did she travel to next? Maybe she’ll tell me more if I ask her… But the mother closed the book. Zelinda, now crushed, started to cry. “No mommy!” she whined. “Tell me more of the story!” But the mother just stood there, holding the book in her hands. Zelinda glanced at the book and frowned. If only I could get that book! Maybe mommy tell me just a little more…” “Don’t want to ruin the surprise, dear,” she told her. Zelinda’s tears were erased when she heard the word “surprise”. What? Surprise? Where? Zelinda glanced around, trying to find where the surprise was. “You’ll hear some more tomorrow night, okay?” Zelinda glanced at the book that was out of her grasp. Tomorrow? I can’t wait until tomorrow! Please let it be soon! Pleeeease? She felt the nuzzling of her mother’s nose against hers. Oh, I love it when mommy does that! I hope that she kisses me too! “I love you, dear,” the mother warmly told her. Zelinda then thought of the story that she just heard again. That princess in that story…Is that me? Maybe mommy knows! Mommy knows everything… “Mommy?” she said with great eagerness. The mother stared deeply into Zelinda’s eyes. “Yes dear?” Zelinda began to smile even more. “Am I a princess, like the story you told me?” She watched her mother wave her hand on her face. It’s a magic wand! She’s turning me into a princess! “You are, dear.” The mother told Zelinda. “You’re a beautiful princess.” Zelinda smiled very brightly. She closed her eyes, imagining her beauty. She then opened her eyes. “Look at me, mommy! I’m a princess!” The mother nodded and smiled widely at Zelinda. “You are! Good night, dear!” Zelinda glanced at her mother, who gave her a very nice kiss on the cheek. There we go! She didn’t forget! Yay! After the mother left the room, Zelinda’s eyes became heavy. When she opened her eyes, she was in a magical land. She got out of her royal bed and glanced out of the window. She was in a beautiful castle on top of a very high hill. When she saw the view, her royal chamber, and her royal princess gown, she sighed with ecstasy. “Wow!” she squealed. “I really am a beautiful princess! “I never want to leave this kingdom! Ever!” And that is just what happened. Since the night she dreamt that dream, she has remained princess of her very own kingdom. All while her body continued to age day by day from the outside. While her mother was worrying about her vegetative state, she was having the time of her life, living every one of her days as a beautiful princess in a land of her very own. *** Eleven years has passed since Zelinda began the wonderful journey to her very own kingdom. Every day played out exactly as the day before. Her mother the queen would tell her that one day, the land would be hers. Everything that she could see outside the window of her castle would belong to her. Zelinda, still five years old, squealed as she played with her royal blocks. She stacked the blocks to make a royal castle of her own. Looking out of the castle, she frowned. “Mommy, can we make the castle bigger?” Right after she said that, the castle grew to exactly the size that she wanted. “Yay!” She got to her feet and ran around all the new rooms that she made in her now bigger castle. When she entered the throne room, she went and sat on the throne. “Mommy?” she asked. The queen immediately appeared. “Yes dear?” “Can I be ruler now?” she asked her. Right after she asked her, a crown appeared on her head. “You are, dear!” she told Zelinda. “You rule everything!” Zelinda smiled. “I do!” All of a sudden, Zelinda suddenly remembered the story that her mother promised that she would tell her. She glanced at the queen. “Can you tell me the story now?” The queen looked at her in confusion. “What story do you want me to tell you?” Zelinda smiled. “You know! The princess story!” The queen nodded and smiled. “You’re already a princess. What story do you want to hear?” Zelinda frowned and began to pout. “You don’t know the story. I wanna hear the story!” A portal appeared and Zelinda saw it. Wow! A flashing thing! If I go through it, will mommy tell me the story? Zelinda ran eagerly through the portal and went through it, her very own kingdom vanishing behind her…
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Hey everyone - I wrote this randomly in 4 hours today. Posting it for fun. I usually write stories for my own enjoyment but decided I'd share this one. I know there are a lot of fundamental mistakes, grammatical errors etc and I'm naturally bad at writing pros. I did not really proof read this. I know the content is a bit unrealistic and what not - but it the kind of story I like so I decided I'd take shot at it. Anyway - if people like the general theme or where it is going, I'll clean it up - format it and continue it in parts to share... Kyle's Summer Vacation: INTRODUCTION: It has been one week since summer began, and Kyle Connors was anxious with how quickly the last year had gone by. The 20-year-old boy lived with his parents in upstate New York, they were both professors at a local university and had high expectations for their children. His mother was a neuroscience researcher currently on sabbatical to write her book and his father was an archeologist who had just left for a dig in South America which would last most of the summer. Kyle’s older sister Kayla had been the golden child, she was a math/science prodigy and enrolled in Dartmouth two year’s prior. Kyle unfortunately was not as scholastically gifted as his sister, but he did okay was a B student and had been a competitive track athlete until a nasty fall ended his career during the final meet of the season. This led him to take a gap year instead of enrolling in college, he just wanted time to reevaluate his situation. So, over the past 6 months he’d been taking a few classes at a community college and working part-time at a local supermarket. To his parents’ disappointment – his progress at community college was well below their expectations, with him barely getting a C average his first year. More than anything they were concerned with his lack of attention and complacency, he seemed unmotivated. If anything, this gap year had caused him to go backwards – he was still relying on his parents for so much and didn’t seem to want to grow up. In fact – Kyle seemed to be settling into a normal routine as the child in the household. He would wait until the final moment to do his laundry, usually his mother would just end up doing it for him. He was resigned to playing video games and watching cartoons more often than his parents would have liked. He was naturally a clumsy person, so being around the house more often – he seemed to always be spilling on the furniture and tracking dirt through the house. Things like dishes, yardwork and general adult responsibilities were simply difficult for him to handle, so his parents were resigned to do it all themselves. Not surprisingly – Kyle’s parents had put numerous restrictions around his life. He had an early curfew, still had a bedtime and they even had parentals controls for him when he was watching TV or using the internet. To reduce distractions they’d throttled his phone, so the only apps he could engage with were learning based or educational. Beyond this – they had just taken to treating Kyle a bit younger than his actual age, basically wanting to know where he was at any given moment, what he was doing and wanting to make sure he was safe. In their eyes he simply was a kid, not an adult. Kayla had just arrived home two days ago, she was on her summer break and was ready to enjoy a relaxing summer.. Kyle was extremely jealous of his older sister, and it was really dawning on him how much better she had it. At this moment summer vacation was a thing of the past for him, he had to work at his boring job and was in online classes to make up for the failed classes from the prior year. His parents were elated with all her progress, and she was not under the same rules or super vision Kyle was. She had complete freedom as an adult should. This was not helping his stress and anxiety – the peer-pressure was a lot for him to deal with and he was having trouble sleeping, with dreadful anxious thoughts of failure keeping him up at night. Even though Kyle had been injured the prior year, he was still able to run long distance, and this was his main outlet for relieving himself of anxiety or stress. At 5’3 and 135 pounds – he had the perfect body for long distance and was pushing himself to get ready for marathon coming up in the fall. Even with all the strenuous exercise – he still was having trouble getting enough sleep and this was starting to complicate his life even further. About a week ago, the reality of his sisters return and his depressing circumstances set in on him. His mental health was waning and it was all starting to affect him physically. It seemed to all come crumbling down when he woke up a 4:30 AM to discover he’d done something that hadn’t done since the 8th grade – Kyle had wet the bed. This was not exactly foreign to Kyle – he had issues with intermittent bedwetting all the way up to middle school and had worn Goodnites for his predicament until he was 11. In fact, Kyle had struggled with potty training in his early years and because this he’d started kindergarten a year late, since at age 5 he was still in and out of diapers. His doctor had told his parents he had a small bladder and this was something that he’d likely have to deal with for the rest of his life. Kyle was good about limiting liquids but still usually went to use the restrooms 2 or 3 times more frequently than his peers. This is something he just had learned to deal with. That early morning Kyle was so disappointed in himself, he couldn’t believe what had happened and was not looking forward to his parents finding out. He luckily had a change of sheets in the closet. So quickly – he removed his soil linens and stuffed them in shopping bag and was able to fall back asleep. The next morning, he slept in and his mother was gone when he woke up, likely on her morning walk. He quickly went downstairs to do the laundry and cover up his shameful wetting incident. When his Mom arrived home later that day – things began to get complicated… Kyle was sitting in the kitchen watching Hilda when his mother called out from the den -“Hey honey – did you put some laundry down?” his mother asked in a surprising tone. “Yes, Mom I put it down an hour or so ago, just my sheets – I think it should be done soon” Kyle answered in a nervous studder. “Why did you do your sheets? I just washed them yesterday” his mother inquired shouting from the other room. “Sorry mom, I had night sweats last night and they just were gross – I’ll put them in the dryer shortly” he was really hoping his mother would drop this and move on. “Okay well I appreciate you helping, looks like they just finished so I will put them in the dryer – I need to get the rest of our laundry done” she thought to herself that this was a good sign, Kyle almost never did chores like this, maybe this summer he’ll start to grow up. As she opened the washer she was met with a pungent smell – it was unmistakably urine. As a mother of two children, she knew exactly what had happened. “Hey Kyle” his mother shouted presumptuously “did you forget to put detergent in the washer?” Kyle’s face went pale, and he sat in silence hoping the inevitable would not happen – how could he forget such a simple thing. As he turned to go try to mitigate the incident his mother came around the corner with his sheets in her arms. “Kyle Anders Connors – do you have something to tell me!” she was looking at him with a stern expression. Kyle couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth, so he stared at his bowl of cheerios sheepishly. “Kyle these sheets smell like pee, did you wet the bed last night?” his mother asked concernedly. “I, I, I’m not sure what happened mom – I’ve been really tired and I did 8 miles yesterday I must have drank too much water, I’m sorry” his face was beet red with shame and he wanted to run as fast as he could out the front door. His mother responded calmly but in a serious manner “Young man, accidents happen but I will not have you lying about it. I need you to be honest with me and your father all the time. It’s obvious that you can’t handle this like an adult. Let’s hope this is a one-time thing, if it happens again – you need to tell me right away and I will take care of cleaning it up since you seemingly can’t do it properly. If I’m not here, you need to call or text me to tell me what happened and I’ll give you instructions, am I clear?” “Yes mom” he responded with a very embarrassed look on his face. This was not exactly how he wanted this summer to start. He wanted to come up with some sort of excuse, but he couldn’t think of anything worth saying. His mother left the room quickly and put the sheets in the washer to run them again with soap. As she returned to the kitchen she sat down at the table across from Kyle… she sniffed the air inquisitively, there was a musty smell and she realized where it was coming from. “Kyle! Have you showered since this happened? You smell like pee!” she stated bluntly. “Sorry mom, I was hungry and had come downstairs to eat – I just forgot!” He responded with a terribly embarrassed look on his face. He was almost at tears. “That is ridiculous and gross! You must be more responsible than this. What next, am I going to have to bathe you as well! Go up and take a shower this instant!” Kyle immediately got up from the table and ran upstairs – so relieved to get away from possibly his most embarrassing moment in recent memory. After the awful morning and a long shower Kyle was determined to have a better afternoon. He went for a run on his favorite trail and was going to push to do 14 miles today. During the run he thought about what had happened and how much he must have disappointed his mother. Hopefully the next few days would improve, and this would be forgotten about. Unfortunately – the next few days and week did not improve at all. His bedwetting became persistent, and he only managed to have two dry nights over a 7-day period. There was even a day on his way back from a run when he had an urgent need to pee and ended up soaking hit pants just minutes before arriving home, fortunately he was able to scramble up to his room and throw his jogging shorts along with his socks in plastic bag which he hid under his bed. Each wet morning he would strip his soiled pajamas off, take a shameful shower and after which he would head down would go to his mother to tell her what had happened. This routine was becoming painful for Kyle and for his mother. Both of them just hoped things would work themselves out, but it was becoming obvious something would have to be done to help Kyle with his issues. CHAPTER 1: PLANNING FOR BLACK BEAR It was Sunday afternoon and Kyle’s mother Karen was preparing for lunch thinking about the next few weeks. The next day Kyle, his sister and Mother would be driving 6 hours north to Maine for a 3-week trip at Black Bear Resort and Lodge just outside Acadia National Park. This was an annual tradition for the family and something Kyle always looked forward to. This year, since Kyle’s father wasn’t joining them – his mother had arranged for her research assistant Candice to come along. She was a single mother of a three-year-old girl named Karly. Candice has been having a tough year, with a recent divorce and grueling new project she had undertaken that was putting undue stress on her. Her specialty was in childhood/pre-adolescent psychology, and she had recently been working on a new study to identify issue in children suffering from avoidance and regressive behavior. Kyle’s mother always enjoyed Candice’s company and was excited to have an adult friend to spend time with on her annual vacation. The kids always went off to do the various activities during their trips to Black Bear and it would have been a rather lonely experience to be with the older crowd at the pool and bar by herself. In fact, when the kids were younger, they’d typically be in the kids camps and she would spend most of her time at the adult pool with her husband relaxing during the trip. Candice had been somewhat concerned about having her little girl along with her, especially since she explained that she was struggling with potty training. Candice had decided to take a break on training for the first month of summer to relieve pressure on both of them and planned to ramp it up again as they started to get closer to the school year. Kyle’s mother assured Candice that the Little Cubs activity program and daycare would be awesome for Karly. Also, there was a cabin designed for families with little ones or kids with special needs – stocked with a changing table, large tub and Montessori bed for children. She remembered how helpful the resort amenities have been with Kyle since he was also a late bloomer with the potty. Candice was relieved at this and was excited to get a few weeks to really relax. As this conversation was happening – Kyle’s mother was reminded of the current bedwetting issue her son had been having… she decided to bring the topic up to Candice. “Hey Candice… this is a bit embarrassing for me to admit – but can I ask you for some advice in confidence?” she asked sincerely. Candice realized that something was concerning her friend… “absolutely you know you can tell me anything, what is up?!” Kyle’s mother began with a slow sense of apprehension “Well this a bit embarrassing, the past few weeks Kyle has been having an issue… he’s been wetting his bed almost every night and actually I even found wet shorts and socks in a plastic bag under his bed the other day when cleaning – which I think was from a daytime accident ” Candice eyes grew softer and she spoke with empathetically “Oh I see – well that is a bit concerning for a boy his age. I know you’ve voice concerns about him before – have you managed to take him to the doctor yet?” she asked with concern. “Well yes, actually I got the call yesterday and all the tests came back. Medically he is in incredibly good shape. Years ago he was diagnosed with a small bladder and he’d struggled with this until he started middle school but we’ve had no problems until just recently…” She paused nervously getting ready to pose the next question. “You see I’ve been thinking about the trip and what to do – obviously I can’t have my son wetting his bed in the cabin every night. The laundry situation alone would be a nightmare, not to mention the potential damage to the mattress… so I’ve thought about getting him some… well protection for his nighttime accidents. I know this seems extreme putting a 20-year old in diapers but I don’t know what else to do. I wanted to ask – as my friend and a professional in the field – do you think it would be damaging to him, from a mental and emotional standpoint?” her face was glowing red at this point and was filled with dread at how her friend might respond. Candice looked on with a calm and determined expression “Karen – I actually think you’re going in the absolute right direction here. In fact I believe it would have a positive impact on him – both mentally and emotionally. I’d even encourage you to take it… well maybe a step further, let me explain. Look you’ve been talking to me about Kyle for years and I’ve gotten to know him ever since we started working together. It has never been my place to say this, but I think Kyle struggles from avoidant personality disorder. In my recent research – we’ve found that adolescents with high achieving parents and even more so those with high achieving older siblings – can suffer from a fear of failure that pacifies them from taking on challenges since they’d rather not try than fail at something.” Candice pauses for a moment to gauge Karen’s emotion, although concerned, she seemed engaged and willing to hear more. She continued “in my recent studies – we’ve found that lowering the bar – if you will - can have incredibly positive outcomes for children suffering from this condition. In fact we’ve found recently that letting a child take a few steps back, can help them really explore themselves, release anxiety and gain new perspectives on life. This leads to more confidence, a willingness to take chances, helps them understand that failure is natural and is a natural part of life. This is part of the reason I’m having Karly go back to diapers for summer and am encouraging her to be little for a bit longer, not making it a punishment but an opportunity for he to be my lovely baby for just a little while more. This way she can come to terms with her outcome and be ready to try again with renewed confidence.” Karen looked at Candice with a somewhat concerned but very understanding look, “so you’re saying I should encourage Kyle to… umm act like a little kid? How would I even begin to do that?” Karen asked. Candice thought for a moment then said “well I think you just approach the whole situation with as much concern and empathy as possible. I’d suggest you bring up the diapers to him and make rules around the situation. For one, I think you take control over the whole bedtime & diapering process and further put him on a potty training regiment. That means, you’re the one who puts him in them and takes him out of them and you're the one supervising his use of the bathroom. Although he may be resistant in the beginning, it will take pressure off of him – I think it will be key to do this in the most loving and encouraging way possible. I’d also explain that since he is not completely potty trained – that there will be rules – just like I had with Karly. For instance – if he has any daytime accidents - that would mean he is in diapers for the rest of the day. From there – I bet there are little things we can work on together during our trip to help naturally regress him. Also - this is up to your discretion but I think you may need to explain to him the situation and give him options. He would either comply with our program or enroll him in a different type of correctional program... I'll let you decide what that would be. I mean he isn’t that big to begin with and if my evaluation is correct on him – the regression process will be a somewhat natural process for him. One thing I think we do right now, is call the Resort and see if they have any additional family rooms available. I bet Kyle would be just the right fit for the Montessori bed I the room they got for me and it would help with the whole process.” Karen nodded her head apprehensively “Okay I think this is worth giving a try, thank you for the advise Candice and the help in executing this. Hopefully we get great results for Kyle”. Although she was concerned over this, she felt what Candice was saying was right and this might be the perfect opportunity to give Kyle some time to be a kid again… well actually little kid and get him over the fear of failure. So that afternoon – they made all the arrangements and came up with a plan. Candice went shopping for a few things to help and was going to pack basically double for Karly to prepare for how far down the rabbit whole Kyle ended up going. Karen called the resort to make some changes to their reservation and ask some questions on camp policy. She was greeted by the nicest lady to which she explained her situation. She told her that one of her teenagers (she fibbed a bit here) had been having some issues with incontinence and would need extra help during the trip to attend to his “special needs”. The resort admin was extremely grateful for Karen’s information and honesty – since the camp has strict access policies for children who aren’t potty trained. The office woman expanded that she was in luck since a three-bed family cabin had just been canceled on and had 4 weeks of availability. She further explained that it was two rooms with queen beds and a third room that was designed as nursery/special needs room. She wanted to make sure this one was okay with her, since it was equipped with a large built in changing table, twin sized toddler daybed with a detachable front gate and a rocking chair. Also, she added that the room’s additional fee included complimentary access to ALL kids camp programs, which were accessible to children under the age of 17. Karen realized that she was being a bit dishonest here but knew that Kyle could easily pass for a teenager with his small size and baby face. “We’ll take it Miss, thank you for all your help we really look forward to checking in and enjoying our stay.” She got off the phone and went up to Kayla’s room where she was reading – she needed to fill her in on what was happening and how she’d be needed to support this. “Hey honey we need to talk” Karen said to her daughter. “Sure mom whats up?” Kayle responded. Karen explained the situation to her - Kayla although somewhat confused and frankly a bit amused seemed to grasp the plan and agreed to be supportive of everything her mother and Candice wanted to do. With that Karen grabbed her keys and with Kayla were off to the store to get supplies for the 3 week vacation that they were sure to never forget. CHAPTER 2: WAKING UP TO NEW RULES It was Monday morning at 8 AM – the day of the long journey to Maine. Karen walked into Kyle’s room to start the day and get things moving, She had planned this out in her head a thousand times the night before. He was still sound asleep and she was not surprised to smell the extremely strong smell of urine in the air – Kyle had wet himself in his sleep once again. Karen gently shook him awake, as Kyle stirred and slowly opened his eyes his mother in the most sweet tone she could muster said, “Sweety – it’s time to get up we have a very big day ahead of us. You had a big accident last night honey, you go shower to go get cleaned up and come back in here so we can get everything ready” Kyle was dazed and confused, his mother never came in his room like this but he figured it was a big day ahead so she was just trying to move things along. With less shame than usual as this had become more routine, Kyle said “I’m sorry mom, I didn’t mean to have another accident – yah okay I’ll go jump in the shower right now” she gave him a sympathetic stare and said “aww its okay my sweet boy, you couldn’t help it – just go get all clean and come back in here for a little chat when you’re finished. We just need to talk a little, don’t worry we’ll get everything sorted out” He nodded cautiously, a bit embarrassed by his mother’s tone and somewhat concerned by what she wanted to talk about. He jumped out of bed quickly to escape the situation and headed as quickly as possible to the bathroom across the hall. While in the shower – Karen got his bed stripped, put on the new plastic sheet she’d purchased the night before and brought in the new bag she had packed for Kyle which she would be showing him as they discussed the new rules he was going to have for summer. After a nice hot shower, Kyle came back in his room wrapped in a towel, his small frame was totally exposed and he was a bit timid to be so bare in front of his mother. His mother had pulled up a chair next to his bed and patted the soft plastic sheet saying “Okay Kyle come sit down, we need to have a talk” Kyle nodded his head and although he wanted to protest, he knew better with his mother and didn’t want to risk having a fight right before they went on vacation. He was somewhat upset by the new plastic sheet on his bed but was not surprised and thought it was rational in a lot of ways. He nodded his head and went and took a seat on the side of his bed. His mother spoke sternly but calmly “Kyle you’re just going to listen to what I have to say and not interrupt me – do you understand – I will tell you when I’m finished, if you interrupt me you will be punished and will not like it” Kyle nodded his head and began to realize this was going to be more than he had expected. “That’s a good boy – so as you know we’re going on our little trip today. The past few weeks you’ve been having a lot of trouble with the potty and it is time we address this issue” Kyle winced at his mother using the word potty, is seemed so childish and demeaning but he continued to listen to his mother “We are in a tough situation here, I simply can’t have you wetting the bed or your pants while we are on vacation. Especially since there is no way for me to do laundry, you could damage the bed in our cabin and plus it is just too much work for me to deal with while I’m trying to relax on vacation. As you know Candice and Karly will be joining us on our trip to Black Bear and will be riding up with us in the car today. I’ve spoken with Candice about your “situation” and we determined that the next few weeks is the perfect opportunity to deal with your problems and help you along. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress and we want to help you release that stress and get over your fear of failure.” Kyle as this point was terrified, what could his mother be talking about and why did she tell Candice about his bedwetting! Still Kyle remained silent and let his mother finish, she continued “I’ve decided that from a practical standpoint, you’ll need to be wearing protection during this trip. That means at night you’ll be wearing a diaper and during the day you’ll be wearing goodnite pull ups. Do not protest, I know you wet your pants the other day and hid it from me.” Kyle was dumbstruck but stayed silent, he new better than to interrupt his mother in these moments. “Further I’ve decided with Candice’s guidance that we should let you have some time to be free of responsibility and give you extra attention during this time. I promise this is going to be good for you and you’ll really enjoy it once you get past some of the natural embarrassment. You do not need to worry about being teased or anything, Kayla, myself and Candice are all on board here. So during the next three weeks, you’re going to be treated a bit like Karly, instead of a 20 years old – we’re going to give you the attention and supervision that a 3 year old would need. Not on everything but on little things. That means there are new rules you need to be aware of: We need to keep track of your potty time and give attention to your bedwetting. As I said you’ll be wearing protection at all times. Diapers will be required at night. You’re not allowed to remove your diapers on your own, an adult will be putting them on you and changing you out of them. During the day, unless deemed otherwise, you’ll be in pull ups. When you need to use the potty, you will come get an adult who will take you to use to bathroom, this will encourage you to be more attentive and will make sure you have no embarrassing accidents. Secondly – if you have an accident in your pull up, you’ll be put in diapers for the rest of the day and the bathroom will be off limits until the following day. We can’t be having accidents all the time. During our stay – we’ve arranged a family cabin. You’ll be staying in your own special room which is setup to accommodate your needs. The first week, your bedtime is going to be 8 PM. I will get you ready for bed an hour early, make sure you’re fed and bathed before bedtime. If you’re good and behave, we can talk about later bedtimes the 2nd and 3rd week. If you misbehave you’ll be subject time outs and if it gets to it, I will spank you if you disobey me, Kayla or Candice. You're required to be under adult supervision at all times. No going anywhere with out me, Kayla or Candice. When we are doing adult activities during our stay, you’ll be going with Karly to Kid's camp. We’ve arranged it all and you’ll be in good hands there. Staff are aware of you potty issues and they have specific rules/policies that you’ll need to follow. I will be picking out your outfits, bathing you and taking care of most things for you so you can focus just on having fun and relaxing during this trip. “Keep in mind, this is not just to address your potty problems but also something we’ve determined will be a therapy to help you overcome your crippling anxiety. I know you want that for yourself, so I hope you can be mature about this and let yourself enjoy this treatment for what it is. If you refuse, then I’ve made arrangements for you to stay at the University Hospital over the next three weeks in the Psychiatric ward – for an experimental drug therapy which I think you’d find to be… well not very fun. Okay so with that, I’ve said what I need to say and you’re free to respond.” Kyle looked down at the floor with and clenched his hands in fist. How on earth could his mother be doing this to him. This was so incredibly bizarre. How could he – a 20 year old man be reduced to wearing diapers and being treated like a child. Beyond the legality of it – he figured it was just crazy, however he knew he was in a pickle. His mother has a lot of power and knew the law incredibly well – he was not about to go to the Psychiatric ward – he’d been there before a few years ago when he took a bunch of pills and did not want to go back. He gathered the courage to respond and held back as much malice in his voice as he could, “I, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me! I do not deserve this… I mean I’ll wear diapers at night, that I can at least understand but why do I have to be treated like a toddler! That is simply ridiculous. Can I just wear the diapers, I’ll even let you change me if that makes things easier… I just can’t imagine going through all this.” Kyle pleaded aggressively. His mother stood up and sternly said “Kyle this situation has been evaluated and the plan is in place, either you accept this or we make the call right now and have you in the hospital this afternoon. This choice is up to you” Kyle looked was furious but he was deflated and staired at the floor. Karen calmy took her seat and put her hand on his knee “Honey I promise you’re going to have a lot of fun these next three weeks and it’s going to be good for all of us.” She gently tilted up his head and looked in his eyes “So baby, can you be brave boy for me and go along with what we have planned – we know what is best for you and this is going to help so much.” Kyle was tearing up and although he was upset at the whole situation – he knew his trade off and he had little choice but to comply. Kyle nodded his head begrudgingly and his mother smiled. “Awww that is my good boy, well we’re going to make this a trip to remember. So I have some things to show you and we need to get you ready for the big road trip”. With that his mother reached under his bed and pulled out an extra-large light blue suit case with Mickey mouse cartoon characters running all over it. This made Kyle blush in embarrassment. “So this has everything we need for your trip but I went ahead and got some of your swimsuits and regular clothes in there too for the last few weeks. Let’s get you all ready for the big car ride little guy” Karen walked over to the closet and came back with some clothes in her hand and to his surprise she was holding a big white diaper, with powder and lotion. “Mom – I thought you said I was going to be in pull-ups during the day?” Kyle asked – he was so embarrassed that he was actually begging to be able to wear a pull up, this was insane. His mother replied “Look we have a 6 hour car ride and we can’t be stopping every few minutes for you baby. Plus you always nod off in the car and your pull ups just wouldn’t hold a big wetting like that. This is for the best and plus – I said you’d be in diaper as “deemed” necessary so lay down on your bed and we’ll get you all ready” Kyle was flabbergasted, this was happening so quickly. In that moment he was paralyzed and just did what his mother asked. He laid down and closed his eyes so incredibly embarrassed on what was about to happen. His mother peeled away the front of the towel and exposed her naked little boy. She was surprised to see Kyle had no pubic hair, but she remembered that she had always bought him extra razors for him to shave his legs, he just preferred it as a runner – I guess he did it all the way up. With her little boy exposed she proceeded to lifting up his legs and having him hold them in position. She fluffed out the thick disposable and tucked it neatly underneath his bottom. She then proceeded to rub lotion on him and dust him with baby powder. She had him lower his legs, so she could do the front and then fit the diaper snugly over him. Taping each side securely in place. She knew in a few days this would become very routine and was actually surprised by how much fulfillment she was getting out of caring for her little boy. “Okay sweety that wasn’t so bad, you can open your eyes now you’re all done” She said softly to him hoping this wasn’t too much for her son. Kyle leaned upward feeling the new padding between his legs. It was humiliating but he was surprised with how comfortable it was, the fresh powder and lotion giving him an odd sensation. The brief moment of calm was disrupted by his mother saying “Okay arms up for me” He complied and his mother put a light blue smoky the bear T-shirt on him, he was about to protest but she was too quick. He was simply mortified by what she had for him next... “Alright little one let’s get you to step in your cute little outfit I picked out special for today” What she held out for him what was unmistakably a dark blue denim short-alls, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they were girls as they were uncommon for men but no doubt they were his size and would fit him. Again, he didn’t see any other thing to do but to listen to his mother. So with one foot and then the other he stepped into his new childish garment. His mother asked him to stand up as she pulled the shorts over his diaper hand secured the buckles of each strap over his shoulder. He could feel his diaper underneath pushing up between his legs and he was blushing red at the babyish feeling he was getting from being dressed like this by his mother. He simply couldn’t believe this was happening to him and stared in defeat at the floor, afraid to even glance at himself in the mirror. His mother gushed “Oh my you just look so adorable, already for our big adventure!" To be continued...
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JUNE 20 - ADDED A HAND-FULL OF BREAK POINTS TO MAKE IT EASIER TO READ THIS FIRST PART Loose papers, file folders, thick books and numerous legal pads were scattered across the boardroom table. At the head of the table, an older man leaned on the polished oak, looking down at a small pile of documents in front of him. He reached down and flipped open one of the file folders, pulled a post-it note from where it had been stuck. Not looking up he said, “Miss St. James.” “Yes, Mr Cotton?” He looked up then, grey eyes seeking out the young woman. “Go down to the library, I need you to check all the cases from 1986.” Kristine St. James nodded at the tall Oscar Cotton. “Yes sir. What do you want me to find?” He looked at the post-it note again and then said, “You’ll know it when you find it.” Several of the other people in the room, all young men and women, rolled their eyes, and one dark-haired man gave her a sympathetic look. However, Kristine only said, “Yes sir.” Oscar nodded and then began to shift through the documents in front of him. By the door was a polished aluminium coat rack on which hung some expensive suit jackets, mostly blue and black. Kristine took a jacket of dark red, worsted wool and slipped it over a white blouse, open at the collar. Before leaving she grabbed a messenger bag, heavy with the laptop within. Beyond the boardroom was a large, open office space, the perimeter made up of other such boardrooms and offices for the lawyers. She paused, looked around, promised herself she would have one of those offices in two years. As she walked to the elevators the two-inch heels of her pumps clicked on the office's hardwood floor. Hardwood floors were just one of those things that the law firm of Cotton and Black used to set itself apart from the others. The elevator took her down to the lobby, and she crossed the tiled floors, towards the stairs. She was a young woman, looked more or less her twenty-five years, average across the board, maybe a little pretty. No one gave her any more attention than anyone else. She walked down two flights of stairs, into the sub-basement. Cotton and Black had space down there, for storage and the library. Her security key got her into the room. She reached out and flipped on the lights. The fluorescents came on with a quiet but pervasive ‘hum’ and a barely perceptible flicker. “Too bad the clients don’t come down here,” she said, walking over to one of the scarred wooden tables and placing her bag on it. The cases for 1986 occupied their own shelf. Books of past cases and the legal precedents set in them. She pulled several down, carried the heavy armful back to the table, placed them down on one end. From her bag, she brought out a beat up, old laptop, and several pads of legal paper. “Okay, let’s go fishing,” she said, and then pulled a book towards her, sat down, and flipped it open. Time passed. She ran numerous searched on her laptop, filled almost an entire pad with notes and photocopied nearly one hundred pages. Feeling she had found everything she (and Oscar) wanted Kristine put the books back in place and then left the library, snapping off the lights behind her. She had been there for almost four hours, and it was a little after seven in the evening. The offices of Cotton and Black were not empty, but most everyone had gone home. Kristine might have gone home herself, but she really wanted to get things finished up. She sat at her cubicle, a far cry from the office she wanted, logged into the desktop computer and then began to write up the document. It was almost ten when she finally finished putting everything in order. All the precedents neatly organised, from the ones that had the most relevance to the case to the ones that had the least. There were a few good ones there, but nothing that she would have considered a home-run in the case. She could only hope she got what Oscar Cotton had wanted. While the computer logged off, she stretched in her chair, arms above her head. Flopping bonelessly she slumped in her chair, eyes closed. So simple to just fall asleep in the chair. She would feel like hell tomorrow. Standing she took her jacket from the back of the chair, then slipped her arms into it, pulling it straight. Grabbing her messenger bag up she walked through the nearly empty room, towards the elevators. She almost ran into someone coming out of one of the offices. “Oh, sorry,” Kristine said, jumping back. The other woman started, took a step back, then shook her head. “No problem. Here late?” “Yes Mrs Kirk.” Linda Kirk looked at Kristine for a few seconds. “You’re working with Oscar.” “Yes Mrs Kirk.” “St. Just?” “St. James.” “Sorry.” Kristine smiled. “No problem.” Linda nodded and started towards the elevators. She walked slowly, and Kristine took that as an invitation to fall in beside her. Linda was a little taller than average, and her three-inch heels made her stand taller than Kristine. She was a beautiful blonde, blue-eyed woman, looking to be in her late thirties, but probably older than that. Married, as Kristine understood it. Not happily, according to office gossip. Kristine tried not to pay attention to such gossip. Linda was the kind of lawyer that Kristine wanted to be, minus the wedding. “You’ve been here for about six months,” Linda said. “Yes. Came in around April.” “Do you like it here?” She and Linda had arrived at the elevators and Linda reached out and pressed the call button. “I do,” Kristine said. “Are you hoping for a job?” Kristine knew what Linda meant. “Yes.” “Work hours like this and you’ll probably get it.” “Thank you.” “Don’t let it take over your life though.” “Pardon?” “You’re a young woman. I suspect some of the other people articling are out having some fun. God knows I did a few times.” “I’ll remember that, but,” she paused, “I like the job.” Linda looked down at her, not that there was that great of a difference in their heights. “I suppose you do, but still…” The elevator ‘dinged’ and the doors opened. They both stepped in. Kristine reached out and pressed the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, Linda said, “Just don’t burn yourself out.” “I won’t,” Kristine said. They ended up riding down in silence. Kristine looked at the muddy reflection in the dull silver doors. All she could really make out was her dark hair, brown, worn to her shoulders. Different from Linda’s long, blonde hair. “It was nice to speak with you,” Linda said as the elevator doors opened on the lobby, then walked out. “You too,” Linda said, following. Linda’s longer strides made it clear that their conversation was over. Still, she followed Linda across the lobby and out of the building. They went different ways a few steps later, with Linda stopping by the side of the road to hail a taxi while Kristine turned and walked down the block towards the subway entrance. When she reached the platform, she took a moment to check her phone. There was a message from Daniel, the dark-haired young man from earlier in the day. He and the others had gone out for drinks, wanted to know if she was going to come. She considered it for a moment but chose not to, sending him a text message telling him she’d go out drinking tomorrow night. Friday night. Tonight she’d get some sleep and be ready for a busy day tomorrow. In another place a busty woman with cat ears sat in a booth, several women with rabbit ears tight around her, hugging her, pouring her drinks, laughing with her, sharing kisses. The cat-eared woman laughed loud and drank deep. “Another round,” she called out. The rabbit-eared women cheered. “Tac is so generous,” a bunny girl with ridiculously huge breasts said. “Of course I am my sweet little hare, the party never ends,” Tac said. She was well dressed, in a tuxedo cut to flatter her feminine curves, her black hair cut in a short bob that called attention to a long, feminine neck. The waiter came by with a new bottle. He coughed, as if uncomfortable. “You’ve run out of money ma’am.” Tac produced a card from her jacket and handed it to the waiter. “Of course, put another fortune for my tab, and twenty percent for tips across the board!” “Of course ma’am.” The rabbit girls squealed happily, fighting to throw their arms around Tac as the waiter nearly skipped off. “Oh, my life is good!” Tac crowed. A new glass of alcohol (a catnip whisky) had been poured, and Tac was slipping her hands under the clothing of her table mate. “I’m a pussy that knows my stuff,” she told one of the rabbit girls as she slipped a hand between her legs. Someone coughed loudly. Tac looked over her shoulder. Behind her was an older woman, dressed in a severe but beautiful dress. Her lower body was that of a snake. “What is it mama-san?” Tac asked. “Do you have a new girl you want me to meet.” The woman smiled, though it did not touch her eyes. “I am afraid that your card has been denied.” She placed the card on the table. Tac straightened. “Impossible.” She reached for the card. “I am afraid it is true. Do you have another form of payment?” Tac looked at the card, then shook her head. “Only barbarians carry cash.” “Enjoy the bottle, it is your last. Girls.” “Awww, sorry Tac,” one of the girls said as she and the others slipped from the booth. Tac sighed and slipped the card into her jacket. “Share a glass with me Mama-san?” she asked, holding up the still mostly full bottle. “For old times sake,” she replied, slipping the upper part of her body into the booth, leaving her tail to the side. “To the good old days,” Tac said, lifting her glass after she had poured two full tumblers. “You have spent the good old days here,” the snake woman said as she tapped the rim of her glass against Tac’s. “You jest,” Tac said and took a drink. “Why I have hardly been here…” she looked at her watch. “Wow! No wonder they cancelled my card.” “I wish you well,” the snake woman said, finishing the drink. “When you are rolling in money again, you are of course welcome.” “You’ve got a heart of gold Mama-san.” “If that were true I would have cut it out long ago.” That said she slithered off, leaving Tac alone. She poured herself one last drink, then corked the bottle. She had paid for it so she would take it with her. After knocking back the generous measure, she got up and walked with the exaggerated and affected grace of one very drunk. Outside the bar, it was daylight. Bright daylight. Tac’s green cat eyes narrowed, and she raised her free hand up to shade her face. “This sort of day is obscene,” Tac said. “There is only one obscene thing here, and that is you.” Tac turned to the speaker. “Gorgeous,” she said as if the word tasted like ashes. Not entirely living up to her name, the rail-thin Gorgeous with soft brown skin, kohl-lined eyes and perked up Anubis ears seemed a pretty Egyptian princess. “You are an embarrassment,” Gorgeous said. “A sexy embarrassment, with cat class and cat style,” Tac smiled, taking her hand away from her brow to place it across her chest. Gorgeous’ lips twitched into scowl for a moment. “You’ve left your job undone.” “What? You told me to take a couple of years break before starting up work again.” Voice expressing insult as eyes widened in surprise. “A couple of years! Two! Like a married couple. You’ve been in that bar for twenty-three!” “Your definition of marriage seems both heteronormative and supporting only monogamous pairings. In some cultures I am easily married to many of the women in that club,” she took her hand from her chest and made a gesture, pointing behind her with a thumb, “and our ‘couple’ is much larger than two.” “Really? That’s your answer. Twenty-three years in a club and all you can do is argue that you have a different definition of a word? You aren’t even going to act embarrassed that you have been spending a fortune of the organisation’s money on a party?” “So it was you that got my card cancelled. That’s low even for you.” Tac took a few steps forward and stood nearly nose to nose with Gorgeous. “You owe me an apology.” Gorgeous seemed exceptionally off-put by Tac’s attack, and stammered out, “But it was you…” She took a deep breath, threw her shoulders back and puffed out her chest. “If you want your card reactivated you had better do your job. There is a candidate that you have to take care of.” Tac shuffled a step back, realising that she had lost the opportunity to claim the moral high ground. “But it has been twenty-three years, surely that is too late. Maybe it is time I got shuffled into an office job?” “Oh? Now twenty-three years seems too long?” “Well, for the job. The candidate is probably dead right? Humans only live about fifteen years, right?” “You know that is not true!” Gorgeous snapped angrily, taking a step forward. Tac skipped back several steps. “But you got to admit, it is like too late. I mean, what adult would ever accept the deal?” Gorgeous smiled. Tac did not like that smile. “Well, that is your problem now. You want your account reactivated, you get your candidate to accept the contract. And until you do, you are persona-non-grata at the organisation. And don’t expect to get any sort of reference from us if you just decide to quit and seek a new job.” “Well, shit,” Tac said. “Kristine, good work on that report,” Oscar Cotton said as he came into the boardroom. Kristine and the other people assigned to work with Oscar had come in earlier, had been working for about twenty minutes already. “Thank you, Mr Cotton. So I found the precedent you want?” “Not at all,” he told her, smiling. “But it was good work, and it reminded me of what I was looking for.” He held up a law journal and then tossed it onto the table. “I want you to all go through the marked pages,” he told them, “give me your impressions. That is what we will be basing our defence on.” With a focus for their work, Kristine and the others set down to get all of the details hammered out while Oscar put it all together in a cohesive whole. “Miss St. James,” Oscar said near the middle of the day, “would you like to join me in court on Monday?” “Me Mr Cotton?” A moment of modesty, just not to seem too opportunistic. “Yes. I would appreciate it.” But it helped to seem a little opportunistic. “Very good. Okay, let’s dot our i’s and cross our t’s,” he told the rest of the team, smiling. Kristine knew there would be a little bad-blood that she was going to assist Mr Cotton at the trial, but she knew it would not last. She had nursed short-lived grudges about the same thing. A little before six in the evening Oscar pronounced them ready. “Get some rest, have a little fun.” Dismissed they gathered up their things to head out. Daniel fell in beside her as they entered the elevator, Olivia Smoke on her other side. “Going to sit in the big seat,” Olivia teased. Dark hair, dark skinned, handsome, Olivia stood out in all the right ways. “Will you remember us little people?” Daniel asked her. “Just like you remembered us when Mrs Kirk had you help you on the Rafter case?” “I did enjoy lording it over all you peons,” he said, striking an arrogant pose. Kristine and Olivia laughed. “You heard the boss,” Olivia said as she hooked an arm through Kristine’s. “Let’s go and have some fun.” Daniel put a hand on Kristine’s shoulder. “You did promise me to go out drinking tonight.” Kristine laughed as the three of them strode out of the elevator as it opened on the lobby. “Then let’s enjoy a night of debauchery.” Close by were some upper-class bars, very expensive. They stopped in one for a few drinks, letting themselves enjoy the finer things. “For practice when we are all big shot lawyers,” Kristine said. However money did not go far there, and they piled into the subway, heading downtown to less genteel but much cheaper options. They drank heavily, in celebration, for another week done. Daniel handled his booze better than the other two, and watched over them, even when drunk, knocking over glasses that had been left unattended and sending them to get fresh drinks, staying close to them, so they were not bothered too much. Kristine liked him. She liked Olivia more. The two of them, she and Olivia, ended up in a stall in the woman’s bathroom, their hands in each other’s panties. Near last call, Daniel saw them both into taxi cabs. Sending them off to their homes. Kristine sobered up a little on the ride back to her apartment. She stretched lazily in the back seat, and the taxi driver kept up a stream of what sounded like meaningless conversation. One thought dominated her thoughts. On Monday she would be in court. It was going to be an excellent opportunity to learn. The cab dropped her off at a nothing special high-rise, close to the university. Not a bad part of town, but loud students made it less desirable for older people and those with families. Kristine could just afford the small bachelors apartment she rented, with a little left over after food to enjoy a few nights out each week. She passed through the security door, and into the lobby. Took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. She walked stockinged foot along the faded, slightly ratty carpet with the blue and gold pattern, her heels in her hand. When she reached the door to her apartment, a cat waited for her, sitting right in her way. “What’s up?” the cat asked. Kristine frowned. She was nowhere near drunk enough that she should be hallucinating. It was unlikely anyone had slipped her anything. Which meant she was facing a talking animal. “Get the hell out of here,” she told the cat, kicking at it. She did not think to connect, but the cat jumped away from the kick and from the door, and Kristine quickly unlocked it and slid inside. “Damn magic animals,” she said as she pushed the door closed and locked it. “That was hardly nice.” Kristine looked over her shoulder. That cat sat on the floor behind her. “Of course.” She turned and slid down the door, so she was sitting on the floor. “Don’t you have to be invited in?” “You are thinking of vampires.” She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. “What do you want?” “Become a Magical Girl.” “Fuck no!” She said, opening her eyes, straightening to her feet. The cat was gone. In its place was a beautiful woman in a tuxedo, cat ears upon her head. She understood, intellectually, that cat and woman were the same, but it surprised her none the less, and she swayed on her feet. “Come on, don’t be like that?” The woman stepped closer. “I’m Tac. You’re Kristine. Introductions over.” She put a hand on Kristine’s bare hand. “Now become a Magical Girl.” Kristine shivered at the touch and pulled back. “No.” She pushed past Tac and into the centre of the small apartment, between the couch and the TV. “Every girl wants to be a Magical Girl,” Tac told her. “Exactly, every girl. No woman. I’m a woman.” “Don’t I know it,” Tac said with a smile that made Kristine feel as if she were naked. And realise that she might not mind it if she were naked. “Then why ask me? Find some actual girl.” “You’re my target. Sorry. Become a Magical Girl. You’ll be a superhero. What’s so bad about that?” Kristine shook her head, then reached for the TV remote. With a beep, the TV came on. She flipped through the channels until she found what she was looking for. “There. That’s a Magical Girl.” There was some kind of panel show on the TV. One of the guests was a young woman in an extravagant pink mini dress, pink hair done up in an impossible style. “Hey, that Magical Parfait, one of the Baker’s Dozen,” Tac said. “Been forever since I saw them. She’s looking well.” Kristine nodded. “I know who she is. She or some other pathetic once was are always on late night TV, being an embarrassment. That’s what happens to Magical Girls, now that there is nothing left to fight. Why would I become one of those people? It would be embarrassing, becoming a joke, hell I think my employment contract says I can’t become magical.” “You make a few good points, but I don’t really care. Let’s fuck and then you can become a magical girl.” Kristine almost said, ‘Yes to the first part, no to the second.’ Instead, she said, “Get out or I am calling the cops.” Tac took a step back, holding up her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m going, but think about it.” Before Kristine could tell Tac that there was nothing that needed to be thought about, Tac was gone. “God damn magic,” Kristine muttered. BREAK POINT#1 Morning came. Kristine woke in her bed (a folding couch), looking up at her room’s ceiling. She wondered it a magical animal had actually offered her the opportunity to become a magical girl. It seemed like something that should be a dream. But it did not feel like a dream. Well, she had refused it, and that was what mattered the most. She went about her morning routines, then chores. The small apartment made it easy to clean. She held up her suit from the previous night. Partying and bathroom sex had done a bit of a number on it. The suit and a few other things got folded into a bag, to be dropped off at the dry cleaners, different clothes got stuffed in a mesh laundry bag. She would take them down to the building’s laundry room later. Dressing in faded jeans and a smart, cream, peasant blouse, she took up her purse and the bag of clothing and headed out. Standing outside of her door, waiting for her, was the cat. She looked back and forth, to make sure she was alone, then said to the cat, “Go to hell.” “Come on. Become a Magical Girl.” “Go to hell,” she said again, enunciating each word. Then she turned and walked towards the elevators. “You get magic, you’ll be really strong and fast. You won’t ever get a cold again,” the cat told her, following at her heels. “There is not really a downside.” “What part of go to hell don’t you understand,” Kristine asked, looking down at the cat she walked. “Is it the ‘hell’ part? It can’t be the ‘go’ part.” “The part where you won’t become a Magical Girl.” Kristine stopped at the elevators, she jabbed the down button then turned and grabbed the cat, picking it up by its scruff. “Hey, hands off the fur.” Ignoring the outburst she lifted it up, so it was hanging in front of her face, and they were eye to eye. “Get this kitty. I will never become a Magical Girl. Never, ever. If you keep bothering me, I’ll find a magical violin maker and tell them there is some magical catgut around here and they can come and get it.” “Oh real nice. How’d you like it if people were making things out of human organs?” “Don’t bother me again. The answer is and will always be no.” There was the sound of the elevator door opening. Kristine dropped the cat and stepped back into the, fortunately, empty elevator car. The cat did not follow her. Watching the doors closed Tac’s feline eyes narrowed. “If you want to play rough, I can play rough lady. Oh, I can play very rough.” Maybe once the room had been something more. Maybe once it had been clean, and sunlit, where decent people gathered. But that did not seem likely. A handful of lights made the shadows all that deeper. The walls and the floor were bare cement. It smelt of mould, stale vomit, piss and beer. The clientele often smelled just as bad. At the bar, a large figure sat. Swathed in a long overcoat and wide-brimmed hat, seeming to carry a cloud of shadows about itself. Every now and then the bartender would place a glass, filled from an unlabelled bottle, in front of the figure and the figure would throw some tattered bills on the bar. When Tac entered the bar almost every pair of eyes (in a few cases a single eye and in some more than two) was turned towards her. She was obviously out of place, with grace and style that was discordant with the general atmosphere of malignant neglect. A few watchers licked lips or gripped groins, but most identified Tac as bad news and looked away. Tac, after placing a handkerchief on the stool, took a seat beside the large figure. The figure was one of the few who had not looked towards her. “General Hemlock, the First Lance of the Rose Empress… how the mighty have fallen.” Slowly the figure turned its head towards Tac. The brim of the hat cast most of the face in shadow, buy toxic green eyes shone out. “You were with those bitches.” “The Charms, Princess Calliope. She was the one who killed Empress Rose at the end. She was the one that beat you, then left you. She thought she was kind.” The glass Hemlock’s hand shattered. “Yeah, it’s sad. You didn’t die in battle, and you didn’t protect your Empress. And you can’t go home, and you can’t do anything here, except drink.” Hemlock stood, towering over Tac. “Oh dear,” Tac said carelessly. “Are you going to kill me?” For a moment Hemlock stood there, then his shoulders sagged, and he seemed to shrink in on himself. He dropped back onto his stool, turned away from Tac, back to the bar. A few bills were tossed onto the bar, for another drink. “That’s what I thought,” Tac said with a smile. “Still, maybe there is an opportunity. You see, there is a brand new Magical Girl out there. Just maybe you could kill her. Kill a Magical Girl, and you could probably return home, little bit of honour instead of disgrace.” Hemlock’s head dipped, perhaps he was nodding. “Or she kills you, but you die like the great warrior you are.” The bartender placed a new drink in front of Hemlock. Hemlock picked it up and drank most of it in one gulp. “Tell me more,” Hemlock said. Kristine enjoyed a cup of coffee in a small cafe. She had a shopping bag on the seat beside her; her dry cleaning had been dropped off earlier. There was a little more shopping she needed to do but was happy to take a small rest. On Monday she would be in court. That was what mattered. Not some stupid cat who wanted her to become a ridiculous Magical Girl. She finished her coffee, dropped a handful of change beside the empty cup, then left the cafe at a leisurely walk. She looked around, trying to decide where to go first. She saw the people staring before she saw what they were staring at. She followed their gazes and spotted what had attracted so much attention. A ridiculously large figure, dressed in a trench coat, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Was it some kind stunt, she wondered? Her mind on how unbelievable the figure was it took her a moment to realise it was heading towards her. She turned, looked both ways, then dashed across the street as soon as there was an opening. Having a road between her and the strange giant in black made her feel a bit better. The sound of tires screeching and horns honking made her turn. The large figure had stepped onto the road, and even as she watched, one of the cars slammed into him with a metal crunching sound. Knocked forward the figure flew through the air for a few feet and then hit the ground, losing its hat in the process. Kristine’s mouth was open in shock. Then the figure got to its feet. Without the hat an inhuman face was visible, looking more like the rough bark of a tree, with small, glowing green eyes and a simple black slash across the lower part for a mouth. It got to its feet and, ignoring the car, continued forward. Right at Kristine. When she realised it was coming right at her, she turned to run. However, with impossibly long arms it reached out and grabbed her. “Where is she?” the thing screamed at her, drawing her close. Kristine stared at it, fear wide eyes showing white all around. “Where is she?” The words were punctuated with a shake that made muscles hurt. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Kristine almost babbled. It slammed her against the pole of a street light. Kristine was sure bones had broken. “Come out and fight me!” it screamed, then hurled Kristine through a shop window. She was certain something snapped when she hit the glass, then the glass shattered and cut her as she went crashing into a clothing shop. I am going to die. The thought was clear. “Things don’t look good for you.” Kristine shifted her gaze, towards the voice. Tac, as a cat, sat nearby. “What…” “Some monster is going to kill you, sad,” Tac told her. “Help…” “I’d love to, but I am a lover, not a fighter. But you could be a fighter. Want to become a Magical Girl? Better than dying.” There was the sound of glass being crushed, something breaking. That thing was coming after her. She knew this was wrong, but there was too much pain, and her head was ringing. She could hardly think. But she did not want to die. “Okay,” she said, giving up. The cat’s eyes glowed. “Say the words,” it said. The words? What words? Then she knew. The words that would seal the covenant. By the Power of Innocence, I am Nursery Knight Kristine. Those were the words. Those were what she said. She was almost certain what she heard was, ‘By the Powa of Innothenthe, I’m Nurthwy Knight Kwithy’. However at the moment what she heard was not as important as what was happening. The pain faded, the cuts closed up, and bruises disappeared. Her clothing changed, though she could not see, and it felt weird. Something was happening to her hair like someone was combing it and styling it. As she stood, she felt something weigh her hand down and looked to see she was holding some odd looking, giant plastic looking mace. It looked like… “You!” She turned towards the monster. “You are the Magical Girl!” “I guethh I am,” she said and wondered again at what she heard. The monster charged her. Without thinking she swung the mace out to crash into the monster. The blow lifted it from its feet and hurled it out the window. Wow! She was strong. “You better finish it off before anyone gets hurt,” Tac said. Kristine did not want to finish anything off, but if she did not then, it might very well hurt others. And it might come after her again. So she went out, leaping through the smashed window, onto the street. The monster was getting up from where it had landed, in the middle of the street. “I am the late Empress Rose’s General Hemlock, and I dedicate your death to her memory and honour!” it screamed. Words again flashed through her mind, “Innothent Wattle Thaker!” Leaping forward she swung the mace around, bringing it down on the monster’s head. The force of the blow drove General Hemlock to his knees, and the asphalt under it cracked. Its head was twisted over to the side. “Ah, still too weak,” it said sadly. “Finish me Mag…” Kristine hit it again, hard as she could. It did not move. Stepping back she thought she should be breathing heavily, thought her heart should be beating like a drum, but neither of those things were true. She felt perfectly fine. Perfectly calm. “Good job,” Tac said from where she had leapt up onto the broken windowsill. Kristine tuned towards the cat. She noticed people around her had lifted their phones, were taking pictures or videos. They seemed amused. “Don’t worry,” Tac said, “no one can get a good picture of you.” A few people started laughing, laughing at her. She moved, fast, faster than anyone might expect. She was not even sure how she did it, she just did. A man stumbled back from her, but she took his phone from him before he could stop her. He did not seem to think things were so funny. She turned it around and looked at the picture. The face was blurry, and there was something indistinct about the picture. Likely what Tac had meant when he said no one could get a good picture of her. But she could see enough to know why people were laughing. The girl in the picture was dressed in a ridiculous baby blue, child’s party dress, with a puffy skirt and puffed sleeves and a big bow in the back. And the puffy skirt was short enough to make it evident that the girl was wearing a diaper. Carrying a comically colossal rattle (her mace) with a pacifier clipped to the dress, hanging off a white ribbon. Oh, and her hair was done up in pigtails. “Cat, what the hell ith thith!?” “Magical Girl Nursery Knight Kristie,” the cat said. “What do you think a Nursery Knight would wear?” Kristine looked around. People were watching her, still taking pictures. She hated it, hated that they were looking at her like some kind of joke. Without thinking about it, she snapped up the pacifier and put it in her mouth. I just want this to all go away, she thought. It did not, but the people looked surprised. They lowered the phones they had been using to take her picture, looked around in confusion. “The pacifier makes you invisible to almost anyone but me, and probably soothes you as well,” Tac said, walking towards her. “No, don’t take it out of your mouth, not if you don’t want everyone staring at you. Why don’t you give the nice man back his phone and then we’ll take a walk.” Kristine nodded and slid the phone into the man’s pocket, as quick as she had taken it from him. He made a sound of surprise, looking around. “Come on,” Tac said. Kristine followed, the pacifier in her mouth, waddling slightly because of the bulk between her legs. It was humiliating. At least no one could see her now. And no one would be able to identify her from the pictures. The cat led the way down the street and into an alley. She jumped up on a dumpster and turned to give Kristine a look over. “Very nice,” Tac said after a few seconds. “Extraordinarily cute. Just what I would expect of a Nursery Knight.” Kristine wanted to take the pacifier from her mouth and swear a blue streak at the cat but did not want to risk becoming visible again. She shifted from foot to foot in agitation. “Well, let’s start your lessons. So, you have a mace, solid weapon, looks like a Silver 7 special version, so you can teleport.” “Tewepot?” she mumbled around the pacifier. “Right. Let’s start simple. Turn around, see that big building there? Look up at the edge of the roof, and just kind of will yourself there.” She turned, looked as she had been told. She felt Tac’s weight land on her shoulder. Well, it was magic. She focused on the edge and pictured herself appearing there. There was a momentary sensation of vertigo, and she felt as if she had just gone over the first drop of a rollercoaster. Then she realised she was standing on the edge of the roof, about twenty stories up. “Am’zing,” she said, the pacifier coming out of her mouth, dropping down to fall the length of the ribbon. She stepped forward, completely onto the roof. Tac jumped from her shoulder. “Excellent for a first try. With enough practice, you’ll be able to go anywhere.” Momentarily stunned by the wonder of it all she nodded, and then shook her head in denial. “I am dwethed like a fucking toddwer.” “Yes,” Tac said with a nod. “You are. Very cute too, thought the swearing ruins the effect really.” “I don’t care that thwearing… No. Not going to be thidetwacked. Magical Girlth are thupposed to look like thripper cheerleaderth, or hooker waitretheth, or bondage nunth, or naughty thchool girlth. They’re not thuppothed to look like toddwerth.” “Well one,” Tac said, “not all magical girls are short skirted stripper types, it’s rude to group them all like that.” “I don’t care.” “And second, you are a Nursery Knight. Nursery Knights were all girls six and under who fought the Nightmare King. What would you expect them to be dressed like?” There was a lot in that and Kristine had a great deal of difficulty processing it, but she said, “I am in diapeeth!” “Well, who knew if girls that age would be fully potty trained? Better to have them in diapers, just in case I suppose.” “Thith ith inthane.” The cat nodded. “Yes, somewhat. The entire Nursery Knight thing was ill-conceived if you ask me. A pet project of some middle management type I've heard. But here we are, you dressed as a toddler and wearing a diaper and me having to teach you to be a Magical Girl. Best we get on with this and then put it all behind us, right?” Kristine started at the cat for several second, gripping the huge, rattle/mace tight. She wondered if that cat would make a squeaking sound were she to hit it. “You thet me up,” she said after a second. “That is a serious accusation, and seeing as you killed the only possible witness, not one that you can prove.” Kristine found herself making a growling sound. “You’d have to prove it, right,” the cat said with a smile (a good trick). “If you could be certain you’d try to pound me into kitty pate paste, but you can’t, so you won’t.” She loosened her grip on the mace. “I learn what you teach. You go away, and I never have to twanthform again?” “You learn what I have to teach, I go away, and if you chose to never transform again that is your business, but you keep the benefits of longevity, durability and the ridiculous heath of those touched by this magic. A pretty good deal, don’t you think?” “Just thtart the lessonth cat. Thooner we finithh the thooner I can get back to my life.” “Okay, very well.” The cat turned into a woman. “Let’s start with banishing and summoning your weapon, Magical Girl 101.” Kristine sighed. “All right, what do I do?” “Just focus on your weapon and imagine it being somewhere else, a closet or a room, or under a tree you know well.” Kristine took a deep breath. She imagined the mace as being in the closet in her old dorm room. The weapon was gone. “Oh.” “Good job.” “Did it weally go where I ‘magined it?” “No,” Tac said, shaking her head. “It was just important you pictured it being somewhere else. Now for summoning, just imagine yourself reaching out and grabbing it.” Kristine could not help but be a little excited by this. While she genuinely had no desire to be a Magical Girl, there had been a time, when she was younger, when she had fantasised about that very thing. And now she was doing magic. Reaching out with her hand she closed her fingers around the empty air. The mace appeared in her hand as if she had just grabbed it. “I did it.” “You are picking this up fast. I’d say you’re a natural.” Tac’s voice and tone cut through the euphoria of magic, reminding Kristine that she had not wanted this, had been forced into it. Completely soured the experience. Tac, seemingly unaware of the change in atmosphere said, “Okay, let’s practice something a little more advanced.” “What?” Kristine hoped it was some offensive magic that would let her smash the grin off of Tac’s face. “Teleportation to a place you cannot see,” Tac announced. Kristine nodded. She could see the value in that. “Okay, picture your apartment, see it in your mind. Close your eyes if it helps.” Kristine closed her eyes, thought about her apartment. She could see it in her mind. She felt something land on her shoulder. Assumed that Tac was a cat again. Right in her ear, Tac said, “Once you can see it, just imagine yourself there.” She felt that sense of vertigo, of the roller coaster drop again, and then, when she opened her eyes, she was in her apartment, standing on her coffee table. The table legs creaked slightly beneath her. “Good job,” Tac said, jumping down from her shoulder. Kristine stepped down from the table. Again, there was that feeling of amazement. She had to keep herself from shouting, ‘This is Magic.’ “What next,” she asked as if teleporting was something that had already become old hat. “Well,” Tac the cat said, turning to look at her, “how about you change back?” “Finally. What do I have to do? Thout out thomething?” “Not for turning back. Just picture yourself untransformed.” “There ith a lot of vithualithation to this magic.” “It was made so non-magic types could master it easily. Very point and click, if you get my meaning.” Kristine thought she should be insulted, but she closed her eyes and pictured herself back to normal. Seeing in her mind the young, twenty-something woman in jeans and a blouse. The thickness between her legs disappeared, the sense of bare skin and fluffy petticoats, of hair, pulled back into pigtails, all faded. So much better. Then her jeans slipped down to her ankles, and her panties to her knees. “What the hell?” she said, eyes open, looking down. Her legs were skinnier than she recalled, smoother. “Well that was unexpected,” Tac said. She almost tripped on her pants as she ran for the washroom. Her panties were kicked off along the way. In the mirror she was looking at a familiar stranger. In the pictures she had seen the blurred out face and the ridiculous outfit had made it hard to notice. In the mirror was the child she had once been. She spun to stare at Tac, feeling the far too big bra shifting loosely on her. “What the hell?” “As I said, unexpected.” “What is this?” “Well, you were supposed to get this magic when you were three or four. You were about twenty-five when you did get it. I suppose the magic split difference.” “Split the difference?” “Split the difference,” the cat said with a nod. Kristine screamed. She reached down and snatched up the cat. “My life is ruined,” she yelled into its cat face. “Your life is ruined? What about me?” “What about you?” “I love to have sex with the magical girls I guide, and was looking forward to conquering you, but you’re right out of my strike zone now. It is a real disappointment.” Kristine made a few strangled sound of outrage before hurling the cat across the room. As soon as she did it, she felt terrible. She was not the sort of monster to hurt an animal. Tac hit the far wall with a thump, slid down to the floor. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she said, stepping hesitantly across the floor, afraid of what she would see. The cat bobbed up, leaping on the back of the couch. “I’m fine, take more than that to hurt me.” She dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry, that was terrible. I mean, you’re a jerk, but you did not deserve that.” Her earlier anger had all drained away leaving her exhausted. “I’m not a jerk. I am quite nice.” “Nice?” “Don’t shoot the messenger. The Nursery Knights were not my idea, and I certainly did not come up with the uniform.” She dropped her head forward. “This is a mess. My life is ruined. I don’t even have an identity anymore.” “Sure you do.” She shook her head, not looking up. “I don’t. I look like the little sister I never had. Kristine St. James might as well be dead.” “Okay, first, the identity stuff can be taken care of.” Kristine looked up. “And second, you’re pissing yourself.” She looked down. There was a puddle of urine under her. “What the hell?” she looked up helplessly at the cat. Tac seemed to shrug her shoulders. “I guess someone thought the Nursery Knights should be using those diapers.” “Fuck,” Kristine yelled, jumping to her feet, the socks on her feet absorbing some of the urine. The tails of her blouse were wet. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Am I going to be pissing myself all the time now?” She paused, eyes widening. “Am I going to shit myself?” Tac’s cat shoulders gave a shrug again. “Hell if I know. Maybe?” “Oh god.” Her knees went weak, and she almost fell onto the floor. “Okay, there is something we can do,” Tac said, jumping down from the back of the couch onto couch itself. “Really?” she felt her hopes soar. “Not that you won’t be wetting yourself, but we can manage it.” Her hopes plummeted. “Hey, buck up. Now, first thing lets summon your Magic Bag.” “Magic Bag?” She was still standing in her own pee, the inside of her thighs damp, but if there was something she could do… “All Magical Girls can summon their Magic Bag, it holds various things they need. And summoning it is a good lesson.” She stepped out of the puddle, shucking off her loose socks. If there were something in this Magic Bag that could help, then she would summon it. “How do I do it?” “Just like you called your weapon back to you,” Tac said. Visualize it and then picture yourself having it. Kristine nodded. She pictured a bag. She reached out for it. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. “It’s not working,” she said, blushing when she heard how winey her tone sounded, so close to tears. “You’re picturing the bag in your mind?” “Yes,” Kristine said with a nod. “What does the bag look like?” “Pardon?” “What kind of bag are you picturing?” Tac asked. Kristine looked over towards the apartment’s front door. “Like the messenger bag I use for work.” “Do you think a Nursery Knight would have a bag like that?” Kristine thought about it. “I don’t know?” “Well, they wouldn’t. Think of a colour that matches your uniform. Add some frills to it.” Kristine nodded, closed her eyes. She pictured the messenger bag, but in pastel colours, with a little bit of frill. She reached out, closed her hand on it. She felt something heavy settle in her grip. She opened her eyes. In her hand was the padded strap of a large bag, baby blue, quilted, big pockets on the outside, a kitty face appliqué on it. “This,” she paused, “is a diaper bag.” “Which is exactly the kind of bag a Nursery Knight would have.” Kristine held it at arm's length like it was a dead rat. “You have to open it,” Tac said as if Kristine were a little slow. Having a cat cast aspersions on her intelligence was a new low in a day of lows. Sighing loudly she put the bag on the floor, avoiding the puddle, and bent down to open it. It was filled with disposable diapers and training panties, powders and creams. There was a folded, quilted changing pad, plastic and rubber panties, wipes, bottles, a sippy cup, jars of baby food nested in a collection of bibs. And there was a teddy bear with a light blue ribbon around its neck and a few more things she could see but did not bother to try to identify. She made a grunt of derision. “There is a lot of things in there,” Tac said, jumping close and looking into the bag. “Grab a pair of training panties and put them off to the side. Kristine did, pulling a pair of the thick panties from the bag, there was a soft crinkling sound of the plastic under the faux material covering. “The bag will always have supplies in it, no matter how much you take from it, so at least you won’t have to buy diapers and stuff. That’s good, right?” She stared at the cat. The hand holding the training panty tightening into a first, making the plastic rustle and the padding squeak. “Tough crowd.” She threw the training panties onto the coffee table. “Okay, so I got a pair of training panties for the next time,” her face grew warm, “I piss myself, is that it?” She could not believe she had just said. “Of course not. This is magic. Pick up the teddy bear and say, ‘I need your help Mr Bear.’” Kristine looked at the bear, frowned, then reached in and took it from the bag. It had the solid feeling of a well-made thing, with incredibly soft fur. If she were the kind of woman, who liked teddy bears she was pretty certain she would like this one. “I need your help Mr Bear.” Nothing happened. She looked at Tac. The cat gave her another of those pitying looks that suggested she was slow. “Is that how a Nursery Knight would talk?” It took her a few seconds to get what Tac meant. She blushed. “I need your help Mithter Bear.” The bear twisted out of her hands, landed on the floor close by and then, with a pop of displaced air, became a stuffed bear, probably a little over six feet tall. Kristine made an expression of surprise and fell backwards onto her bottom. The bear looked around, glittering eyes pausing on the puddle of urine, and then on Kristine. “What is this cat?” “It is your Mr Bear.” “My…” she started, but suddenly Mr Bear had stepped close, grabbed her (somehow with those stuffed bear paws) and lifted her to her feet. With a blur of motion it had her blouse off, leaving her only in her ill-fitting bra. “What the…” The bear tossed the blouse and bra into her laundry hamper (she swore she saw it look at the laundry label first) then had a t-shirt from her dresser and was back by Kristine’s side before she finished her thought. With an upsweep of its fluffy arms its lifted Kristine’s arms above her head, and with a down sweep had the t-shirt on her. “…hell….” Mr Bear put a giant paw across her mouth. Kristine got the idea that it did not approve of such language. Then it was blurring off again, to the bathroom, coming back with a towel and some cleaning supplies. In a moment the urine puddle was cleaned up. She had to admit that was helpful. “So what, it cleans up messes?” she asked Tac. “Among other things.” “Among what…” Again she was kept from finishing her sentence as Mr Bear scooped her up, put her on the couch, and reached into the diaper bag for one of the very thick diapers. “How do I stop this?” Kristen asked as the bear secured her ankles and lifted her bottom off the couch. “Say ‘Thank you Mr Bear, I love you.’” “Tank you Mithter Bear, I wuv you,” she said, not having to be told to lisp. With another pop of displaced air the bear returned to its original size and then it, and the diaper fell neatly back into the diaper bag. Kristine scrambled off the couch, closed the bag, and without being told how sent the bag away. With a sigh she collapsed bonelessly to her knees. “What the hell?” “Your Mr Bear is your caretaker,” Tac said as she jumped back onto the couch. “Remember, the Nursery Knights were all to be pre-schoolers. They would need help. Mr Bear would clean up their messes, change them, feed them, comfort them and if they were bad punish them.” “Bad? Punish them?” “They were little girls given a stupid amount of magical offensive power. It was a pretty certain thing they would abuse that power. So, Mr Bear would deal with that.” “Great, I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman who looks like an eleven-year-old girl with a magical teddy bear that will treat me like I am two… that is the shape of things, right?” “More or less. Oh, Mr Bear can show up on its own.” She stared at the cat. “What?” “Well, you couldn’t trust a little girl to know when she needed help.” “So you’re saying I could just be walking along and suddenly a six-foot-tall teddy bear will show up and… what, change me?” “Or give you a bottle, or put you down for a nap, or spank you if you are naughty.” “Fu… Now I’m afraid to swear.” “Swearing is a bad habit. Mr Bear will help you deal with other bad habits if you have any.” “Just drinking to excess and bathroom sex,” she muttered. “Those are great bad habits to have,” Tac told her, “if you did not look like a child. I would suggest you avoid them as I am pretty sure Mr Bear would intervene.” “You think?” “Your lucky sarcasm is not naughty.” Kristine looked over at the training panty on the coffee table. She grabbed it, stood up, and pulled it on. It slid up her legs and over her bottom, the padding nestling up to her groin, feeling impossible soft, evident in its thickness. She placed her hands on it, noting it fit perfectly. Angrily she pulled down on the bottom of her t-shirt to make sure it was hidden. “Okay, now I don’t have to worry about making a mess.” She tried not to sound embarrassed, but the warmth in her cheeks told her that her body had betrayed her. “Now let’s hear about how I get my life back.” “Last time I was around here the internet was starting to take off. You still have that?” “Yes.” She wondered when the last time Tac had been in the mortal world. “Alright. So you can find stuff on that. You’ll want to search for government support of magical issues.” Kristine went and got her phone and took a seat on her couch. “Where’s your computer? What are you doing with that?” “This is my phone, and it can do everything a computer can.” “Really,” the cat moved in close to look. “Well I’ll be darned. You manage to do pretty well without magic.” “We try,” Kristine said in a snarky tone as she searched for what she had been told. It did not take her long to find a government site and a phone number for magical issues. She got a phone robot that asked her to state what she was calling about. “I became a Magical Girl, and now I don’t look like myself.” There was a pause, and then the system said, “It sounds like you have undergone some kind of transformation. Is this true?” “Yes.” A few more questions which she answered. Then it asked if she had a liaison. “Do I have a liaison?” she asked Tac. “That’s me,” the cat told her. “Yes,” she told the robot. “Please give your liaison’s code,” the robot asked. “Code?” she looked at Tac. Tac gave her a series of numbers and letters. She spoke them back into her phone. “Just a moment,” the robot said, and there was a click. Then a real person said, “Magical Issue Support, you have undergone a transformation?” “Yes, I have. I became a Magical Girl, and after I transformed back, I looked totally different.” “I understand,” the woman said as if she heard such calls all the time. “Can you tell me where you live?” Kristine did. The woman gave her an address, asked if she could make it there. Kristine checked and then said, “Yes, in about an hour I guess.” “Please go to that address, bring all the identification you have. Someone will be there. Ask for Mr Green.” “Mr Green, I understand.” She was given a case code, told to quote it if she had to call back, then the woman hung up. “That was not too bad for a government agency,” she said, hanging up. “The magical realm makes sure there is good support available.” She put her phone aside and got up, realising she needed something to wear. It did not take her long to realise there was nothing that would fit her. She found a pair of shorts, used a belt to cinch them up tight around her skinny waist. A pair of sandals, the straps pulled as tight as she could get them, gave her something for her feet. Then she gathered up her various ID cars, credit cards, bank cards, her passport and everything else she had that identified her. Tac watched her but said nothing. She had everything she needed. “Are you coming with me?” she asked the cat. She was a little nervous about some magic related government agency and though she was not going to say that she hoped Tac might take the hint. “Sure.” She left her apartment, Tac riding on her shoulder. BREAK POINT#2 The taxi that Kristine had called dropped her off in front of a nondescript government building in the downtown core. She stood there, looking about, noting that a few people were taking note of her. She told herself that was because she was dressed in a ridiculous manner and not because they knew she was wearing training panties. Still, it was hard not to think that they were somehow showing, or they were making her walk a little different, or there was a soft rustle of plastic, or that she had wet them and they were leaking. She could not stop herself from surreptitiously checking her shorts for damp spots. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the building. It had an old look, with clean but dull black and white tiles on the floor, and high ceiling of much-patched plaster. No one was in the lobby except for a single security guard sitting at a desk near the elevators. He did not look up when she entered, his attention on the book he was reading. When she got closer he looked up from the book and asked, “Can I help you?” He did not get up from behind his desk. “Uh, yes. I was told to come here, to ask for Mr Green.” “Take the elevator up to the ninth floor, third door on your right,” he told her. “Thanks.” She crossed the floor to the elevators. The guard had gone back to reading his book. The doors opened a moment after she pressed the button. She took a surprised step back, wondering how someone had known to have it waiting. Then she realised she was stupid. It was a weekend. No one was there, and likely all the elevators were just stopped at the ground floor. She stepped in and pressed the button for the ninth floor. The interior walls were polished, metal mirrors. Tac jumped from her shoulder and was once more a woman. “This place has a classic feel,” Tac said, looking at her reflection. She reached into the pocket of her suit jacket and took out a lipstick tube. “As do I.” She touched up her makeup. Kristine had already gotten a good look at herself, and the mirrored walls showed her nothing she did not already know (except for maybe making it clear how much a ragamuffin she looked). However, standing beside the sexy Tac, the changes were brought into stark relief. She was a child, well, she looked like one. When they had first met Kristine figured she was a near equal in the looks department to Tac. Now, of course, it was no contest. As she was there was no way she could compete. Before she could think on that much more the doors opened. She stepped out, leaving the mirrors and their brutal truths behind. Third door on her right. A slab of wood, no windows, old, metal doorknob. She tried it. The door opened. There was an empty reception counter behind it, beyond which a waiting room. Six doors, one an obvious bathroom. One of the doors opened. An older man stepped out. Thinning black hair, tanned skin, gold-rimmed glasses and a blue suit. “I’m Mr Green,” he said, looking her up and down. “Kristine St. James.” “You have your ID?” “Yes.” “Please.” He stepped aside and indicated that she should enter the office. Kristine walked around the counter and into the room beyond, Tac at her heels. It was an office, with a big oak desk and a single visitor chair. Kristine took that seat. Tac became a cat and jumped onto her knee. Mr Green stepped beside her. “Your ID?” She reached into her bag and brought it all out. Taking it, he went and sat down behind the desk. “That is a rather large change,” he told her as he looked through everything she had given him. “I know.” “Well, this is all simple enough.” “What?” She could not believe anything about what had happened was simple. “We’ll give you bridging ID, as well as new ID, all of it will allow you to prove to people who you are. Do you want a new identity?” Kristine thought about that for a moment, then asked, “What good would a new identity do me?” “Depends. If there is anyone after you, creditors, ex-boyfriends, that sort of thing, a new identity can be useful.” She frowned. “Do other magical girls get new identities?” “Not often at first, after several months it is more common.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Very well.” Mr Green stood. “This way.” In one of the other offices, there was a camera and several impressive looking printers. Mr Green took her picture and then printed out several pieces of ID. The bridging ID, as he had called it, mated her old ID with new, while the new ID just showed her as she now looked. It took about thirty minutes, then he handed the bundle of ID to her. “I’ve put in a request for a new passport, that should be delivered to you soon. If you need anything else call this number.” He handed her a card. “Like a new identity?” “Or legal assistance. It sometimes happens.” She did not say she was a lawyer (or almost one) but took his card. “Thank you.” “Good luck Miss St. James.” “Thank you.” She stepped from the room, then looked back at Mr Green. “Can I use the bathroom?” “Feel free.” She nodded. The washroom was small, with a toilet and a urinal as well as a sink. The tiling on the floor was old, faded and cracked in a few places, but the bathroom was clean. She reached through the leg of her shorts, felt the training panties. As she suspected they were warm, the padding swelled up with a wetting. “Damn,” she said softly as she loosened her belt. Summoning the diaper bag was easy. Kristine was a little worried Mr Bear might jump out, but the teddy bear remained a toy, and she took out a new training panty and dismissed the bag. Changed into a fresh pair of the absorbent panties she left the bathroom. Cat Tac was waiting for her. No sign of Mr Green. She left the office without looking for him. In the lobby, the guard was still reading his book. He did not look up as he wished her a good afternoon. Before going home, Kristine went to do some shopping. Tac came with her, in human form, though she was soon off in stores and parts of stores that Kristine knew she would look ridiculous were she to shop in. She had to try on a few things to get her new size figured out, and she needed to rethink her old style choices. That was made clear when a pair of tight jeans, which was just the kind of thing she would have bought before, made the padding of her training pants visible. She found a pair of denim overalls, lose enough in the seat to hide any puffiness from undergarments that she thought looked okay for her new body type. Paired with a white, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of running shoes she thought she looked good. Well, she looked like a girl, but at least a girl who did not dress too childlike. She bought a few more things, using cash. In theory with her bridging ID, she could use her credit cards, but she did not want to deal with that. Her final stop was to buy some training bras. She did not think she actually needed a bra, but she had been wearing one for long enough she was not willing to give it up. Tac came with her and seemed to make a point of looking at sexy bras in large cup sizes. The woman at the shop was kind and helpful, though from her look Kristine was pretty certain that she was of the opinion Kristine did not actually need one. Kristine walked out of the store with three training bras that were really just cotton vests with a bra like design. Like a little girl being sent out with some to salve a childish bit of vanity. Getting home, she dropped her shopping bags at the door and went to her bathroom to check her training panties. They were wet. Of course. “Fuck,” she said softly, then, with her coveralls and training panties around her ankles, sat on the toilet. Maybe she could re-potty train herself if she just made an attempt. “Hey, did you fall in?” she heard Tac call from the other side of the door several minutes later. “I didn’t fall in,” she retorted as she got off the toilet. She bent down and pulled up the training pants. The now cool, wet padding pressed uncomfortably against her, but she would put up with it. She was still buttoning the strap of her overalls when she came out to find Tac the cat sitting on the coffee table. “Now that you are finished in there we need to talk about work.” “Work? What does the law firm have to do with anything?” “Not your mundane and boring work that does not matter. Your work as a Magical Girl.” “What do you mean it does not matter?” “You said it yourself. No magic, and it is not like the little girl you are now can go to work after all.” “You’re asking to be picked up and thrown again,” Kristine said snapped as she went over to get her phone. “What are you doing?” Tac asked her. “Sending Mr Cotton an email. You’re right, damn it, I can’t go to work like this, but I have to let him know what happened.” She paused. How was she going to explain what happened? What could she tell him? The truth. Well, at least as much as the truth as he needed. The email was simple to write. Kristine told him she had encountered magic, had been changed by it, and could not be present at work, but would like to speak with him about it, to explain in detail. It was short and left so much unsaid, but it was good enough. She sent it and then tossed the phone onto the couch, dropped down beside where it landed. Her training panties ‘squelched’ unpleasantly around her bottom. “Finished with your pointless mundane job issues?” Tac asked. “Fuck off.” “Little girls that talk like that get their mouths washed out… assuming they still do that.” “Child abuse,” Kristine said, putting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “Well, your Mr Bear probably does not know that, so watch your tone. And I would love to fuck off, and I can say it because I am a mature adult, but until I finish training you, I can’t leave. So let’s talk about your real job, the one you accepted when you accepted your Magical Girl powers.” Kristine said nothing for a few seconds, then in a despondent tone said, “Fine, but what am I supposed to do? Didn’t you say the Nursery Knights,” she hated that name, “defeated their enemy?” “The Nightmare King, and yes, he was defeated, so I can’t train you fighting him and his minions, but there are always useful enough targets for you to focus on.” “Like what?” “Smugglers.” “Smugglers?” If you could line of sight teleport, you could move across the city quite fast. It was exhilarating, the roller coaster stomach drop of each jump, appearing on the top of some building’s roof, looking out over the sea of skyscrapers for the next jump, and then it repeated. For moments Kristine could forget she was outfitted as an overgrown toddler, with a thick diaper pushing her thighs apart. A diaper that for all she knew might already be wet. In those moments she felt powerful. Faster than any car might have covered the distance, perhaps as fast as a helicopter might have, Kristine reached the edge of the city, where the buildings became smaller but sprawled more, warehouses that took up entire city blocks. They were near the docks, though not close to the well lit, busy sections, where huge cranes moved cargo containers. They were on the edge, where warehouses gave away to empty factories, a part of the city where things had started to decay, where dreams had faded. “Down there,” Tac told her from where the cat rode on her shoulder. Tac held out a paw, pointing towards a warehouse on the water’s edge, where a ruined quay was half sunk into the water. “And put your pacifier in your mouth so you’ll be invisible.” She grabbed the pacifier from where it hung on the ribbon, popped it into her mouth and began to suckle on it. As before it made her feel better. She hoped it was not addictive. Focusing on the low roof of a warehouse below she once more crossed the distance in a moment, ended up standing on the edge of a roof, looking down at cracked asphalt apron in front of the shuttered loading dock. There were a large number of men down there, carrying travelling trunk sized crates out of the warehouse and loading them into several rental trucks. They worked by the light of red filtered flashlights, kept their voices down. “They have gotten armour from the magical realm. It’s old crap where I come from, but here it will stop even heavy armour piercing rounds,” Tac said into her ear. “Why do I haf to thtop thmugglerth?” she asked around her pacifier. “Well, the magical realm really should have stopped this stuff from being exported, so it falls on agents like you to deal with it. And this is good training. They don’t have any weapons that could stop you.” “Weally?” Kristine asked. “The armour of your outfit could probably stop a tank round. They are just going to have handguns.” Handguns? “Wiwl thith outfit weally pwotect me?” It left her arms and face and almost all her legs bare. “Trust me,” Tac said. She hated the fact she had to trust Tac. “Just jump down there and tell them you are here to punish them as Nursery Night Krissy.” “I don’t wanna. Can’t I jutht thtay invithible and walk awound hittin’ dem on da head?” “No. You are a magical girl, not some nocturnal mammal themed vigilante. You are a symbol of the power of innocence, and you don’t get to be a symbol by hiding. You don’t want to throw your magic off. It might not work.” “Tho, it might not pwotect me?” “Well, it won’t fail you completely, but it is likely to hurt a lot more.” “Fine,” she sighed through the pacifier, then she spat it out and jumped down onto one of the truck’s roof, calling up her mace as she fell. She landed with a creaking of heavy suspension and crunching of metal as the roof cratered and cracked around her. That was crazy, she thought, she just jumped down two stories. No time to overthink on that. Stepping to the edge of the truck’s roof, looking down at the smugglers, she said, “I am Nurthewy Knight Kwithy! Thwow down your weaponth and thuwender or I will punith you.” Punish? Ugh. What a terrible choice of words. The men below her swore and expressed shock, fear, confusion. Some looked like they were ready to run. Other pulled out the pistols that Tac had mentioned. She jumped down from the truck, landing on one of the crates. It shattered beneath her feet. She pointed the mace at one of the smugglers. “Thuwender.” The man shot her. Guarantee of protection or not, the sight of the gun being fired, the boom of the shot, it made her scream, and she fell backwards, landing on her diapered bottom. She did not have time to think about it, but she was certain that fear had ensured the diaper was well used at that moment. Something had touched her head. That was the best way to explain how it felt, a gentle touch. Something rolled down the side of her face. She looked. It seemed to be a flattened bullet. “What are you doing?” Tac yelled from the roof. “You can’t be scared of a little pistol.” “Fine,” Kristine yelled as she jumped to her feet, swinging the mace out, even as the man was shooting her. The heavy mace smacked into his hand, knocking the gun aside with a crunch of breaking bones. The man screamed in pain, falling to the ground, clutching his ruined hand. “What are you doing?” Tac yelled from the roof. “You can’t hit them that hard. Use a little control. You're an adorable Nursery Knight, not some bone breaking vigilante.” “Thith ith tho annoying,” she shouted, as several more men fired at her and several others made to escape. She moved fast, even though she was waddling, and struck with as much control as she could manage. She used the handle of her mace to knock weapons from hands, to jab into guts and sweep feet. No more broken bones, just bruises and pokes that took the fight and the flight out of them. When it was over about a minute later she stood among the moaning men who lay on the ground about her. Tac had jumped down onto the roof of one of the trucks. “Now secure them so the police can come and pick them up.” “Thecure them?” “Handcuffs or the like, Just envision it and then call out the magic that comes to you.” Handcuffs, okay. Just picture them all with their arms cuffed behind their backs, except for the one whose hand and wrist she had broken. She imagined more of a sling type cast on him. She held up her mace and called out the words the came to her. “Naughty Boyth thhut up and thtay thtill,” she yelled. Those were not the words she had expected to come out of her mouth. Around the men sparking light appeared, falling around them, lifting them, and then coalescing into… wheeled chairs with various restraint straps. Oh hell, they were all large strollers, she thought. Around their hands formed pink mittens that fastened the men's hands behind their backs with pink ribbons. And pacifier gags. Well, she supposed they were going to stay still and shut up, but really. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Tac asked. “I jutht did what you thaid,” Kristine yelled as she turned on Tac. “I pictured them rethtwained, with handcuffth. It ith the thtupid magic.” “What a mess. I mean, it’s like your some kind of bondage pervert.” “I’m not a bondage pewvert,” she yelled up at Tac. “Well, that’s not… Look out!” “What…” Pain. Like fire painted in a line across her back. She fell forward onto her knees. Behind her, the sound of metal scraping across the ground. No thought. She raised the mace above her head. Something hit it with a crash. The force of it feeling as if it would dislocate her shoulders. She rolled forward, her back flaming in fresh pain as it moved across the ground. Up on her feet. Facing her attacker. A man, in armour, holding a sword. “That sword is from the Magical Realm,” Tac called out. “It can hurt you.” “No thit,” Kristine said as she parried another sword strike. The man was relentless, coming at her fast, forcing her entirely on the defence. Several times the tip of the blade traced out red lines on her arms and legs, even cutting her clothing. The laceration on her back bled freely. She could feel the blood running down her back, likely into her diaper. What a mess that would be. Tac shouted out less than useful advice as Kristine tried to find a way to attack. What was some crook with a magical sword doing beating her? She was a Magical Girl. She was a Magical Girl. “Innothent Wattle Thaker!” Swinging out her mace she slammed it into the sword. The sword shattered under the blow. She swung the mace back, driving it into her attacker’s side. He was wearing armour, she was certain he would be fine. And if he was not, well, the pain in her back made it hard to care. The armour all but shattered from his body, and the force of the blow sent him into the air and then down, hard, onto the ground. Still, she was pretty confident she had heard no bones break. “Naughty Boy cowner time.” The magic again came in glittering lights that lifted the man up, and the coalesced out into the mitten restraints and the pacifier gag, but instead of a stroller, he was secured to a stool, pants around his ankles, his nose pressed up against a wall. “I mean really,” Tac said as she jumped down onto Kristine’s shoulder. “This is too much.” “It’th your thtupid magic.” “Just call the police and let’s go.” Kirstine scowled, but she looked among the smugglers until she found a cell phone she could use. She called 911, reported that she had heard shots, then dropped the phone without hanging up. She picked up one of the fallen pistols and fired several shots into the air. “Nice touch,” Tac told her. “Thut up.” A moment later both cat and magical girl were gone, teleported away. Tac told Kristine not to transform back when they arrived at the apartment. “Get your magic bag, have some of the healing food and drink.” She did so. She also got Mr Bear, who stripped her dress off her so he could mend it, as well as dressing her wound. He also changed a very soiled diaper, though she fought against him on that. Somehow in all that the fur on his paws remained clean. During all that Tac took her leave. She glowered at the big stuffed animal as she ate two jars of the baby food while watching as it stitched up the rip in the dress, cleaning the blood from the material at the same time. She had no idea how it did that. She was drinking from a sippy cup (she could not remove the top from it) when Mr Bear finished his work and quickly got her back into the dress. Then he pulled her down onto his big, soft lap, took the bottle from the bag, and proceeded to try to feed it to her. Keeping her lips closed and turning her head she did her best to avoid the nipple. She turned her head and said, “Tank you Mithter Bear, I…” And then he got the nipple securely placed in her mouth. When it became clear he was not going to give up until she drank she sucked on the nipple until the bottle was empty. It refilled itself, but Mr Bear put the bottle back in the bag. “Tank you Mithter Bear, I wuv you,” she got out quickly. Mr Bear returned to toy size and dropped into the bag. Kristine gabbed a couple of training panties from the bag and then dismissed it. “God damn I hate that thing.” She transformed back, thankfully losing the diaper, replaced by the training panties she had been wearing when she had transformed earlier. She dropped into the couch and reached for the TV remote, turning it on and flipping through channels until something caught her attention and she left it. Not really paying attention to what she was watching Kristine grabbed her laptop and turned it on. After powering up and logging on, she saw she had email. Oscar had sent her a message. She had almost forgotten the message she had earlier sent him. He wanted to see her. The next day, at a cafe she knew. She replied, said she would be there. Nervous fingers made spelling mistakes, it took twice as long to type it as it should have. She read it over and then sent it. That was done. Noise from the TV made her look up. A cartoon was on. She had been watching a cartoon? Grabbing the remote, she flipped channels until she found the news. She was presented with a shaky cell phone video of a girl in a short dress and a diaper. Her. Hell. Kristine turned the TV off and went to get ready for bed. The next morning Kristine woke to an orgasm that left her lying in her sweat-soaked sheets, breathing heavily. She could not recall the last time an erotic dream had left her so flustered. Probably when she had been a teen. For a time she lay there, breathing deeply as the warm glow faded. It was perhaps a minute or two after she had woken that she realised she was wearing a diaper. She knew she had gone to bed in a training panty. “Fuck,” she said softly, wondering if the training panty had magically become a diaper, or if Mr Bear had visited her in the night. Neither possibility pleased her. The diaper, she discovered, as she got out of bed, was quite wet. The sheets, except for the sweat, were very dry. She had to admit, given the options, she preferred the damp diaper to wet sheets. Though of course having neither problem would be most preferable of all. She walked to the bathroom, tearing the wet diaper off as she went. There where, Kristine noted as the diaper landed in the trash, several training panties already in the trash. Was she going to have the throw out garbage bags full of diapers and training panties every week? And shouldn’t the magic deal with them in a more environmentally friendly manner? Why was she evening thinking such things? Sighing she went into her bathroom to shower. Later, in a fresh pair of training panties and an oversized t-shirt, Kristine ate her breakfast at the small kitchen counter, while browsing the web. She was looking for information about herself. There were some pictures of her from when she had first transformed, various stories about her, all of them made up of suppositions and outright lies. There was a story about the smugglers she had caught the other night, but no mention of the way she had left them. Had the magic faded, or were the police just keeping quiet about how they had found them? At least no one was suggesting a connection between her Magical Girl persona and the smugglers. Not yet at least. For the morning she treated the day like any lazy Sunday. She read a book while drinking a cup of coffee, or she tried. The coffee tasted terrible. She made two more cups before she decided that it was not the coffee but her. Coffee tasted terrible to her now. That sucked. Instead of reading she went through her kitchen and tried different things. Some teas were all right, as was milk, and the almost expired carton of orange juice she could drink. However, she found that alcohol tasted unpleasant and several fancy kinds of cheese that she had liked no longer suited her. When she catalogued what she liked she found the menu options to be somewhat, well, juvenile. Really, it was bad enough she had to wear training panties and diapers, did she really now need to subsist on a diet of peanut butter sandwiches and milk? Getting a handle on her new palate took up much of the morning, and by the time she cleaned up, it was getting close to her meeting time. The day before while shopping, she had picked up a few more pieces of clothing than just the denim overalls and blouse. A pair of grey slacks and a light blue blouse gave her, well, not a professional look, she thought looking in a mirror, but at least a well turned out appearance. She had found a pair of shiny black loafers with tassels over the toe. They were cheap, she doubted that they would last longer than a month of constant wear, but they looked decent enough. So dressed she grabbed her work bag, shoved a few more pairs of training panties into it, then headed out. Just outside of her apartment building she was met by Tac who sat, lounging on a bench. “What are you doing?” Kristine asked her. “Enjoying the sun,” the woman said. “It’s a cat thing. You going to that work thing.” “I’m going to talk to a man I worked for.” “I’ll tag along,” she said, standing, becoming a cat, then leaping onto Kristine’s shoulder. “Why are you coming?” “Boredom mostly. This might be funny.” “I’m going to throw you into traffic,” Kristine muttered, but she let the cat ride on her shoulder. As she rode on the subway, she wondered what Oscar would say to her. She wondered if she could keep her job. She did recall the part of the contract that said no magical people could work at the law firm, but she hoped that they would make an exception. Being a lawyer was what she had wanted for years. Looking down at her small feet she wondered what sort of career she could have. Could she go to court, looking like a girl? She shifted on the seat, squirming a little, trying to judge how wet the padding under her bottom might be. It did feel a bit wet, but she thought likely just damp rather than soaked. What a thing to have gotten used to, she thought, and in only less than a day. How soon before she was just wearing the diapers that Mr Bear seemed to want her in? She shook her head, the action attracting Tac’s attention. “What is it?” the cat asked. “Nothing, just a thought I want out of my head.” “Weird.” “I don’t want to hear that from you.” Tac remained silent, and Kristine sat there for the rest of the ride, mind going around in unproductive circles. She got off one stop sooner than she usually did when going to work. The coffee shop was about two blocks away from the subway station. The area, mostly business office towers and the like, was quiet on a Sunday afternoon. The ‘Smart Bean’ was an upscale little shop, often crowded during the week but very nearly empty now. She saw Oscar Cotton sitting at one of the tables near the back of the shop. He had looked up from his phone when she had come in, looked at her, then went back to his phone. He did not recognise me, she thought. She walked across the floor, went to stand up beside the table that he sat at. “Mr Cotton,” she said. He looked up from the phone. He looked at her. “Can I help you?” He looked confused. She produced her bridging ID and handed it to him. He looked at it, the confusion in his expression growing. Finally, he looked at her. “Miss St. James?” “Yes sir.” “Magic,” he said, sounding disgusted as he handed her back the ID. “May I have a seat?” she asked. He nodded at the seat opposite to him. She sat, her feet not quite touching the ground. Tac jumped down from her shoulder and into her lap. “I got you a coffee,” he told her, indicating the cup in front of her. “Thank you,” she said, taking it. She loved Smart Bean coffee, the rich dark roast, of course, black. It was bitter and awful to her changed taste buds, but she kept her expression neutral as she took a drink. “What happened?” he asked her. She told him, most of it, leaving out the part about diapers and baby themed stuff, but covering the basics. Kristine finished with, “It was not what I wanted. I never would have made the decision, but I was going to die.” “I understand,” he told her. “I want to continue working with Cotton and Black. I’m a victim. I know that there is a clause in the contract about magic, but it’s not fair.” She blushed realising how childish she sounded. He did not answer her immediately, instead picking up his coffee cup and drinking from it. He put it down when he finished the contents and asked, “Did you study magical law in law school?” The question confused her a little, and she thought back to law school, not so much about the classes she took, but the ones she did not. “I don’t remember anything about magical law,” she told him. “Just some details about the nature of the treaties between the worlds.” “Do you know how the law works in the Magical Realm?” She shook her head. “If you are accused of a crime you are brought before one of the most powerful magic users in the area. They cast a truth spell and you are asked if you did what you were accused of. Once you answer you either go free or are punished.” Kristine did not say anything for a few seconds, and then, “But that is incriminating yourself.” “No such protection in the Magical Realm.” “But what if there are witnesses?” “No witnesses are ever called.” “What if the accused has magic powerful enough to trick the spell?” “Might makes right.” “But…” Oscar held up a hand, stopping Kristine’s words. “I am not here to debate the nature of the Magical Realm's law or lack thereof. That is how it works because that is how it has to work. Magic complicates things. Witnesses might have seen an illusion, or be under a spell of compulsion. Evidence may be summoned out of nothing. In a world like that, they use the simplest way to deal with it. That is why you never saw any courses concerning magical law. That is why you can no longer work at Cotton and Black. “In fact, I am going to have to call the opposing lawyers and tell them that a person articling with us has become a Magical Girl. Likely they will ask for an extension while they make sure nothing in our case has been magically tampered with, they might even ask that the judge simply rule for them seeing as the case is now tainted.” “But I just became Magical Girl yesterday.” “And you have a witness to that?” “Sure she does,” Tac said, speaking up. Oscar looked surprised for a moment at the talking animal, but only a moment. “That will help, I might need to call you to tell your story to the judge.” “Anything to help,” Kristine answered without thinking. Oscar nodded. “I appreciate it. Did you bring your work ID, keys, laptop?” “What? No. Why?” “I’ll need the keys and ID, and I’ll need to have one of our IT people take a look at your personal laptop.” Well, that was a sign that her time with Cotton and Black were over. “I’ll have to go home and get all that. It will take about an hour, maybe a little longer. I guess I can take a taxi.” “No need. I will drive you to your home. We can take care of all of that as soon as possible.” “As soon as possible,” Kristine echoed back. He nodded. She stood, dumping Tac from her lap. “I got to go to the bathroom,” she said and headed to the back of the coffee shop. She did not have to go to the bathroom, or maybe she did, she no longer knew, but she was not about to sit in someone’s car without checking to make sure her training panties were not about to leak. In the stall, the somewhat complicated task of getting her pants off made her decide it was possible skirts would be a large part of her future wardrobe. The training panties were wet, though not sodden. She would not to take a chance and changed into a dry pair. Fortunately, there was no one else in the bathroom to see her toss the wet training panties into the garbage before she washed her hands. On leaving the bathroom, she found Oscar at standing at the front door, talking to a familiar looking blonde woman. She was tall, Kristine thought, probably equal in height to Oscar, and in her heels, she stood taller. Long blonde hair, fair skin, pretty. Oscar noticed Kristine as she approached. “Kristine, this is Emily Black, of the IT department.” That explained why she had looked familiar. “Black?” she asked. “My Uncle is Oscar’s partner, but don’t worry, I did not get the job due to nepotism.” Oscar laughed at what was probably a private joke, then said, “Emily will have to check your laptop, you understand.” Not pleased, Kristine nodded. “Of course.” “Let’s go,” he said and led them from the cafe. His car was only a few blocks away, a dark blue Lexus, four doors. Emily took the front seat, leaving the back for Kristine. Seeing the leather interior, she was glad she had changed her training panties. In the front seat, Oscar and Emily talked business, the IT side of things. Kristine’s computer knowledge was not as in-depth as that of Emily’s, but she thought she might be able to join in. However, she got the feeling that she was not expected to take part in the conversation. Neither made any effort to include her. She sat quietly in the back, petting Tac who slept in her lap. About twenty minutes later Oscar pulled into her apartment’s visitor parking lot. His car looked a little out of place, and he parked some distance from the other vehicles. As Kristine got out, she looked at the building, suddenly feeling that she did not want either of these people to see how she lived. She knew it was ridiculous. She was a recent graduate, no one would expect her to be living in any sort of luxury. She squared her shoulders and said, “This way.” Kristine led them into the building and up into her apartment. Could they smell the used diapers she had been throwing out? Would they see them? “Where’s your laptop?” Emily asked, breaking Kristine out of her thoughts. “Here,” she walked across the room and got the laptop, bringing it back to Emily. As Emily set up Kristine went and got her work ID and various security keys which she presented to Oscar. “Can I get you to log in?” Emily asked her. She had the laptop on, and it had booted up. Oscar stood near the door, waiting patiently, as Kristine logged into the laptop. “This won’t take long,” Emily said as she went to work. “Just going to remove the VPN software and proprietary data, check for any files from the firm.” Kristine nodded. As promised it did not take long for Emily to finish up with the laptop. She plugged a USB key into the computer, fingers typing rapidly. Kristine looked towards Oscar, but he had his smartphone out, looking at that. He was not interested in talking. And what would they say to each other anyway? About a minute later Emily pulled the USB key out of the laptop. “It’s clean.” Oscar looked away from the phone. “Good. Thank you for working on a Sunday.” Emily smiled at Kristine and then looked to Oscar and said, “This was a special case, so no problem.” “Miss St. James, again, I am sorry. You might have become a good lawyer.” “Thank you,” Kristine said. It was the only thing she could say. They left, talking again about the firm’s IT requirements. She was no longer on their minds. She closed her apartment door and went back to the couch, flopping down and looking at her laptop. Shifting forward, feeling her training panties squelch under her, she worked on the computer, checking to see what had been removed, making sure that her pictures and a few other things she would not want to lose were still there. “Damn,” she said, slumping down. “What’s the problem there?” Tac asked, jumping onto the back of the couch. Kristine looked up at the cat. “There are so many answers to that.” “Got one that I might care about?” She mumbled something unflattering under her breath and then said, “I am out of a job.” “I am aware. Don’t care.” “Well, you should, cause I am going to be out on the street soon.” “I don’t see how you being out on the street is a problem for me, but I will point out that you are stupid?” “Stupid? That I need money is stupid? That I still got student loans is stupid? That I can’t even afford to buy new clothes is stupid?” “Those things seem more on the sad side than stupid,” Tac told her. “What is stupid is that you have forgotten you got a magic bag that has almost everything you need.” “What? It has money in it?” She could not believe that. “Why not summon it and find out,” Tac paused, “stupid.” She sat up straight, making certain to knock Tac off the back of the couch as she did not. “Not cool,” Tac said as she fell. Holding her hands out in front of her she pictured the bag and it dropped out into her arms. She placed it beside her and opened it up. She found the familiar diapers and training panties, food and drink and baby care products and Mr Bear, but no money. “Well?” she asked Tac, who had jumped up beside her. She grabbed a couple of pair of training panties, knowing she was going to need them. “Open up the zippered, front pocket.” She did. Inside she found an envelope. Written on it was ‘for clothes’. Opening it, she found a stack of twenty and fifty dollar bills, even some hundreds. Counting it revealed there to be about four thousand dollars. “Where did this come from?” she demanded of Tac. “Where do you think? Banks.” “Is it…” “Stolen? Don’t be stupid. There is trade between the Magic and the Mundane Realms. The Magic Realm enjoys a huge trade surplus, but we don’t have use for your money, so we leave it here. When an agent, like you, needs money, you get money.” She looked at all the bills. “I don’t have to work anymore.” “You don’t.” “If I want a bigger apartment? A house.” “You’d get it.” “A sports car?” “Can you reach the pedals.” “Shut up.” “You won’t be getting any mansions unless you need one, and probably not any of those fancy Italian sports cars,” Tac paused, “do they still have them?” After Kristine nodded Tac continued, “or diamond studded golden back scratchers, but you’ll have what you need for a comfortable, easy life. Magic Girls have it good.” She did not have to work. “I wanted to be a lawyer.” “I wanted to be a rich princess who never had to travel to the Mundane Realm. I did not get that,” Tac told her. “Life is unfair. Suck it up. We’re going hunting tonight.” “Hunting?” “I am going to teach you to track minor magical threats. An important skill for a Magical Girl.” “Yay for me,” Kristine said sarcastically. Several hours of hunting down, and in some cases killing, small magical beings (goblins and such) left Kristine tired and wet. Returning to her apartment, she dismissed her magical outfit and then went to take a shower. Clean, in a dry pair of training panties, she took a seat on her couch and turned on her laptop. She just wanted to stream some movies and relax, maybe check out some real estate as well. As the laptop booted up, she reached for her phone. There was a message. From Oscar. She played it. His recorded voice came from the phone. ‘Miss St. James, I want you to come to the courthouse tomorrow. Call me.’ She stared at the phone for a few seconds. It did not make any sense to her. She had been certain she would never hear from him again. After several seconds she hit the icon to call him back. After a few rings, it was answered. “Miss St. James,” Oscar said. “You wanted to speak with me Mr Cotton?” He was silent for a few seconds, then said, “I would appreciate it if you showed up at court tomorrow, at 9am. I have a meeting with the judge, and I want you to be there.” Her eyes widened as, for a moment, she imagined that he would be making a case for her to remain part of the case, but only for a moment. That was stupid. “Why?” she asked, sounding a little more bitter than she wanted. “I want to get the judge’s ruling as to whether your recent change compromises the case. The judge will have questions, it would be best if you were there.” “I understand. I’ll help.” She paused and then said, “I have nothing to wear for court.” Oscar did not tell her not to worry. He would never tell her that. The right clothing was an essential part of one’s presentation in court. After a short silence, he said, “I’ll bring something, Don’t worry.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, I will be there.” “Thank you Miss St. James, I appreciate it.” “I am glad to help,” she answered. “I will see you tomorrow.” He hung up. She looked at her phone for a few seconds and then tapped the hangup icon. Gently chewing on her bottom lip, she wondered what tomorrow would be like. Would she be a professional in the room, or would be she like some weird piece of evidence. It worried at her all night, and she crawled into bed early, setting her alarm before she pulled the covers over her head. BREAK POINT#3 Kristine woke not to the beeping of her alarm but to another orgasm from another terribly erotic dream. She lay on her bed, breathing deeply, squirming, slim chest rising and falling with each gasping breath. She finally got control of herself, wiping at her damp forehead. “What the hell,” she said softly. Her alarm started beeping. As she sat up, she felt something heavy and wet slide about in the back of the diaper that she was wearing. Eyes wide she reached behind her and put her hand on the back of the plastic. The mass within the diaper shifted and spread out as she pushed against the padding. “Oh no,” she said. She shifted forward, taking the weight off her bottom. The mess slithered forward as she got up on her hands and knees. How was she going to clean up that mess? She’d have to get into her shower, take the heavily soiled diaper off. And then what? Could she flush it? And she would have to clean herself up, the mess that she felt stuck to her bottom. Just the thought of doing so made her feel ill. She should just be able to magic this away. Then a thought occurred to her. “Mr Bear, help.” She blushed even as she said it out loud, not entirely certain about what she was doing. A moment later the giant teddy bear was at her side. She did not have to give any instructions, the bear grabbed her up from the bed, cleared some space, and put her on the floor. She blushed as the bear pulled her legs up and untaped her diaper, then began to clean her up. The bear was fast, efficient, in extremely short order she was clean, the area around her was clean, the dirty diaper and the wipes having disappeared, even Mr Bear was clean. Of course, the bear then proceeded to put a new diaper on her, acting so fast she could hardly resist. He creamed her bottom, rubbing it across her butt and between her thighs, sending a shock of unexpected pleasure through her that made her gasp. Then he rained sweet smelling powder across her before pulling a thick diaper up between her legs and tapping it snug around her. He lifted her up from the floor, grabbing her under her arms, then placed her on her feet and patted her head. She blushed at the gentle touch, then lisped out her ‘thank you’ sending him away. Standing there, in the middle of her apartment, in just a diaper and her t-shirt, she sighed. “What the hell,” she said, then sat down on her couch. “Tac?” she called out softly. The cat did not appear. Well, she supposed that was for the best. She was not really sure how to ask the cat why she was having crazy erotic wet dreams, waking up in diapers that were damp for reasons other than piss. Was it part of the magic, or, as she was afraid of, was she just some kind of pervert? It was probably the magic. She hoped. Thinking of magic and the cat she summoned up her magic bag. She opened the small zippered pocket she had found the money in the night before. Within were two envelopes, neither feeling as if it were stuffed with cash. In one was a letter, informing her that all her student loans would be paid off by the end of the business day. The other letter showed that all her credit cards, as well as her line of credit, had all been paid off. She was completely out of debt. “Well, that’s something,” she said, tossing the letters on her coffee table and then dismissing the diaper bag. Standing she tore the expertly taped diaper from around her waist and tossed it, heading into her bathroom. Tac showed up when she left her apartment. She was dressed in the same outfit she had worn the day before, the slacks and the blouse. “Where you going?” the cat asked. “To court. Oscar wants my help,” she said, feeling happy for saying that. “Your help?” Tac asked incredulously. “Yes, my help,” she said, sounding far more defensive than she had intended. “Some kind of monster thing?” “No, legal matters,” she said, tilting her chin up as she walked towards the elevator. “This I got to see.” Kristine paused, wondering if she should tell the cat it could not come. Of course, she did not expect that Tac would do something just because she had ordered, and she supposed having an obvious magical animal might help things along in some manner or another. “Do as you want,” she said, and resumed her walk. Seeing as she was debt free and flush with cash (she had the money for clothing in her messenger bag) she decided to take a taxi. “How much more do you need to do to finish with me?” she asked Tac as she did up her seatbelt. “A few more nights and you’ll have all the basics down. You’re not as stupid as what I was expecting.” “Is that one of those magical animals?” the taxi driver asked, looking back at her in the rearview mirror. “Is that a problem?” Kristine asked. “I can toss her out of the cab, no problem if we are moving fast.” “Rude,” Tac said. “No, no, just never saw one before.” He pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic. “So,” the driver asked, “you one of those Magical Girls?” “Yeah, I’m one of those Magical Girls.” “You look a little young for it.” She laughed loudly. “I say something funny?” “Hilarious, but don’t worry about it.” “We’re not going to get attacked by monsters, are we?” “I don’t think so.” She looked at Tac. “A monster attack against a mundane is a pretty unlikely thing,” the cat sat smugly. “Is it now?” Kristine turned her gaze on Tac. “I don’t think my statement can in anyway be used to infer any wrongdoing on my part.” “And if I got one of those truth spells Oscar mentioned?” “Well, you don’t have one.” “You don’t seem to be all that friendly,” the driver said. “Tell me about it,” Kristine answered. “Aren’t you magical girls and your talking pets supposed to be all friendly like?” “Pets?” Tac sounded offended. “I am beginning to suspect that is just PR.” “Pets?” “So how did you become a magical girl, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Desperate measures,” Kristine said. “Either that or I die.” “So you didn’t want to be one.” “Of course not. Why would I?” “I bet it beats driving a cab.” Kristine was about to argue that, seeing as she was pretty sure driving a cab did not require diapers, but she decided not to. And she thought about the letters from the morning, the money in her bag. Probably a lot of people would think the benefits outweighed the costs. “It still was not what I thought I wanted to be doing with my life?” “Oh, what did you want to do with your life?” “I was going to be a lawyer.” The driver was silent for a few seconds. “You ask me the world needs more Magical Girls than lawyers.” “Did I ask you?” she snapped at him. “Don’t be so catty,” Tac told her. “I don’t want to hear that from you,” she told the cat. “Listen, I’m just saying that society is too litigious as it stands and fewer lawyers might not be a bad thing. Maybe people would talk things out and not tie up the courts with nuisance lawsuits and real legal change could happen.” “What, are you a professor of sociology or something?” “Philosophy.” “A philosopher cab driver, this is getting good,” Tac said. “You’re a professor of philosophy?” “Masters degree. Working on my doctorate.” Kristine frowned. “Are you driving for money or is this your thesis?” “Welcome to my lab, Magical Girl.” “Oh, crap.” “Do you have a card? Cause I think I want to ride in your cab more often," Tac said. “So, do you think you can do more to make the world just if you were a lawyer than you could be being a magical girl.” “I did not get into law because of justice,” Kristine said, exasperated, and then, “No, wait, I mean, justice is important, but the law is complex and beautiful.” “Really?” “Well, it’s complex.” “So, if you were interested in justice, would you find it easier to make a difference as a lawyer or a Magical Girl.” Kristine squirmed in her seat, thought the padding of her training panties felt both warm and wet but was not sure. And she could not check. “I suppose if I was only interested in justice that a Magical Girl has more options.” “But Magical Girls are not agents of justice,” Tac said as she jumped up onto the back of the front, passenger seat. “At least not necessarily.” “But do they have the freedom to become so?” “Probably,” Tac said. “So Magical Girl, do you feel that if you cannot practice law that you are required to uphold justice? Does your power require you to act.” “Hell no,” Kristine said. “Power does not equate to responsibility.” “Interesting.” “Listen, can you just drive.” “Sure,” he said, and then asked Tac, “so you offer power to these girls?” “That is right.” Tac sounded pleased with herself. “And you don’t feel that there is a problem with that? It’s like you are creating child soldiers.” “No like about it. But young girls have the purity and innocence to wield magic. Their pure hearts and pure dreams protect them from the corrupting taint of magic.” “Bullshit!” Kristine said from the back. “I was twenty-five, and you still picked me.” “Twenty-five?” the driver asked, looking at her in the mirror again. Kristine wished she had kept her mouth shut. “You were immature for your age,” Tac said by way of explanation. She smacked the cat from the back of the seat hard enough that it hit the interior windshield. “Hey, watch it,” the driver said. “The cat’s fine.” “My feelings can be hurt you know,” Tac said, jumping down from the dashboard. “Good to know. I’ll try to be more emotionally cruel.” The driver looked at her in the mirror, then down at Tac. He asked no more questions. Kristine felt a little bad about that but did not want to start up the conversation again. When she was dropped off at the courthouse, she tipped the driver well, by way of apology, then walked up the steps towards the large entranceway. She was near the doors when she was met by Oscar’s assistant. Yvonne Clark was an older woman, brown hair striped with grey, dressed conservatively. She had some garment bags hung over her shoulder. “Kristine?” she asked hesitantly. “Yes. Mr Cotton wanted me here.” Of course, Yvonne had to know that. What a stupid and obvious thing to say. “Yes. Come on. I have some clothing for you.” He held up the garment bags a little higher. At least Kristine was not the only one stating the obvious. Yvonne led her to a bathroom where she could change. Kristine went in on her own, carrying the three bags. She left them on a small bench inside the room by the door and went right for a stall. Her training panty was not too wet, but she cleaned herself up and put on a new one, not wanting to take a chance of staining any of the clothing she was going to borrow. There were three dresses within the bags, as well as a few packaged sundries. She wondered if they belonged to Oscar’s daughters or granddaughters. Perhaps young nieces? She did not really know much about his family other than he did have children. One of the dresses looked like a little girl’s Sunday dress. A bit too much frou-frou and pink for her tastes. Another was a surprisingly mature looking dress in a pale blue, clingy. Kristine was certain the bulk of her training panties would be visible. She went with the third, a dark blue dress, with a pleated skirt that dropped below her knees and short, wide sleeves that fell just above her elbows. The skirt was loose enough that there was no chance of her training panties showing through and it looked conservative. There was a pair of white tights, still in the package, along with the dress. She tore the bag open and put them on. The cotton tights were a little too small, and the dress a bit tight across her slim chest, but, looking at herself, she saw that none of that showed. Good enough. She gathered up everything and left the bathroom. Yvonne and Tac were waiting nearby. Yvonne looked Kristine up and down and nodded. “Good. Come on.” Tac jumped up onto her shoulder. Yvonne led Kristine up the main stairs, where the too small tights and slightly too tight dress made themselves a little more obvious. She felt a little corseted as she could not breathe as deeply as she wished, and the tights were sliding down a little, and she had to resist the urge to try to pull them up. Down a hall, deeper into the building, to a small waiting room where Oscar, and to her surprise and no small amount of embarrassment, Daniel were waiting. Daniel was staring at her, shock obvious on his face. She noted two others, a woman and man, well dressed. The man she recognised as Wendal Pine, the lead lawyer for the other side. “Miss St. James, thank you for coming,” Oscar said to her. “You’re welcome Mr Black.” Daniel schooled his expression to something more professional and nodded a hello to her. “Kristine,” he said. She returned the informal greeting with a “Daniel. You’re assisting with the case? Good job.” He looked a little uncomfortable, for they both knew that she was supposed to be here. “Thank you,” he said, almost sounding himself. Wendal and his companion were openly staring at her. She ignored them, deciding she would let someone else handle introductions if they were required. “Is there anything else Mr Cotton?” Yvonne asked. “Not at the moment Yvonne, thank you.” Yvonne nodded and then left them. There were several seconds of an uncomfortable silence in the room before Oscar said, “Let’s go.” He walked to one of the doors, knocked and then pushed it open. Kristine started towards the doors, but the others, with their longer strides (not hampered by trying to keep cotton tights from sliding down over a pair of training panties), put everyone else in the room, and she had to wait to enter last. There was a small office beyond. The five of them filled it. A woman behind a desk was talking to Oscar. “Go in,” she said, “Judge Morrison is waiting for you.” They all filed through the secretaries office into the much more significant office of the judge. Bernard Morrison was a tall man, big, shaved head, wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He was standing, waiting for them. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing at a table in front of his desk. Everyone sat. Kristine found the chair too big for her, wished she could kneel on it, so she was not so low. Bernard went and sat at his desk. “Let’s make this fast.” He looked at Kristine. “Kristine St. James.” “Yes sir,” she said, hating how her voice seemed to squeak. “Papers?” She reached into her bag, pulled out her ID. She was about to get off the chair when Tac jumped to the floor and became the tuxedo-clad, cat-eared beauty that was her other form. There were a few expressions of surprise. With a smile Tac took the various documents from Kristine and walked to the judge’s desk, handing them to him. He looked through them, turning the bridging ID back and forth, staring at Kristine. She felt her cheeks grow warm under his scrutiny. He gave the documents back to Tac. “Thank you.” “Of course,” Tac said, and walked back, putting the documents on the table, in front of Kristine, just far enough from her that Kristine had to reach to get them. The cat-eared woman took a seat beside Kristine, smiling at the other people. “Tell me how you came to this position,” Judge Morrison said to Kristine. So Kristine told him of her meeting with Tac Friday evening and of her accepting the contract the next day. She kept it simple, to the point. Tac confirmed her story when asked. “When was the last time you worked on this case,” he asked her. “Friday evening, about 5pm.” “Anything since then?” “No sir.” “Have you had any contact with anyone involved in the case since then?” “Just Mr Cotton. I let him know what happened, and met with him yesterday too, well, officially end my employment with the firm.” “Did you talk about the case?” She shook her head. “No sir.” Wendal shifted forward in his chair. “Any witnesses to this?” “I was there,” Tac said. At the same time, Oscar said, “Emily Black from our IT department was there. She can be a witness as to our conversation. Shall I ask her to come by? I have a signed statement from her.” He brought an envelope from his jacket. “Give it here.” Oscar did so, and Bernard looked it over. “Good enough,” he finally said. “I would like a ruling now as to if Miss St. James unfortunate situation in any way reflects on this case,” Oscar said. The judge looked at Wendal and his companion. “Are you requesting a stay in procedures?” Wendal did not answer immediately, but finally said, “Not at this time.” “Your honour, if not at this time than if I may be permitted to say, than not at all,” Oscar said. “More information could come up later in the case,” Wendal replied, a little heated. “We may need to request a stay or delay later.” “If things start to go bad for you,” Oscar said. Kristine had suspected but now knew why Oscar had requested her presence there. “Enough,” Bernard said, loudly. No one else said anything. “Mr Pine, if you do not see a reason to delay proceedings at this time, based on what we know, I will not allow you to request a later delay. Unless of course, you put further evidence in front of me that puts into question Miss St. James' statement that she has had nothing to do with the case since her unfortunate transformation.” “Very well,” Wendal said. He did not sound happy about it. “All right, then this meeting is done. I will see you in court in,” he looked at his watch, “twenty minutes.” It was a dismissal that everyone recognised. They left the office. Out in the waiting room, everyone started walking away. Daniel paused, looked at her, back at the others who were all watching, and then said, “I’m sorry this happened to you.” He walked off. Not about to taint the case by being seen associating with her. She was alone. She found Yvonne, down the hall, waiting for her. She returned to the bathroom on the first floor, changing back into her own clothing. She held up the tights, making sure there were no telltale stains on the white cotton, then shoved them into the garment bag with the dress. “Thank you,” she said as she handed the bag back to Yvonne outside of the bathroom. “You’re welcome,” she said with a smile before turning and walking away. “Now what?” Tac asked from where she lazily leaned on a wall. “I guess I’ll go shopping.” “Good, I like shopping.” Kristine supposed some retail therapy was a way to not think of things. Or maybe not think that there was nothing left to really think about. She was a Magical Girl, and it seemed that was all she would be. All she could be. So letting her mind focus on buying a new wardrobe was welcome. She looked for quality, triple stitching, good materials, nothing that looked like it had been made in a sweatshop. Since training panties and, not that she wanted to admit it, diapers, were going to be a constant she looked for skirts and dresses mostly, to make changing easier. She bought some slacks and loose jeans, but they made up only a small part of her new and growing wardrobe. Quality and conservative were her watchwords. She soon had several bags full of clothing. Tac had to help her carry them. Some training bras were added to her purchases. As she had the day before Kristine got the idea that most of the salespeople who sold them to her were ultimately humouring her. What she did not need (assuming she was not going to chance a mess) were panties, but she bought them anyway. She did not want anyone thinking about why she would not be buying them. It was mid-afternoon when she decided to go home. She and Tac stuffed a taxi’s trunk full of clothing of all sorts, and the back seat was pretty full too. They did not get a driver who wanted to speak, so Kristine sat in the back seat, feeling tired and wet, hoping her training panties did not leak. Fortunately, she made it back to her apartment leaving the seat behind her dry. She and Tac hauled everything up to her apartment and Kristine went to change. She had leaked a little on her way up, small damp spots on the seat of her slacks. After changing into a dry pair of training panties, she tossed the pants into the laundry hamper and then, in only her socks, blouse and training panty, began to unpack her purchases. She was not sure at first what to do with all her old clothing, but after a few minutes of looking through her wardrobe, she decided it had to go. There was no point in keeping it around, other than to torture herself. She found some boxes and used the bags all her new things had come in and packed away all her old things. She would donate them to some charity, or better yet a woman’s shelter. Maybe her suits would do someone some good. As she finished boxing the last of the old things up, she felt odd, as if something were off. She found herself walking about the apartment, looking onto corners, opening things up. As small as the apartment was her actions did not go unnoticed. “What are you doing?” Tac asked her. Kristine looked at the cat. “Something feels off, but I don’t know what.” “Probably just because you are being watched.” “What?” Tac, in cat form again, stretched out. “Yeah. Not long after we got back.” “Where?” she asked, starting towards the windows. “Stop, don’t be stupid,” the cat told her. “Pardon?” she looked back at Tac. “You don’t want them to know you spotted them. That’s like tradecraft 101.” “Tradecraft?” She shook her head. “What should I do?” “Stop being stupid?” “Aren’t you supposed to help me?” “If I can make you stop being stupid that would help a lot.” “You make me want to kick you.” “Transform. Put your pacifier in your pie hole and teleport down there.” Kristine wanted to say something snide, but the cat was right. “Thank you,” she said softly. “What was that?” “I said thank you,” she snapped, and then before Tac might say anything else she transformed. Teleporting about, being invisible, it was all pretty amazing. It almost made being a Magical Girl worthwhile. Though not the diapers. She stood beside the car, not seen by the occupants, looking into the windows. It did not take her long to figure out who they were. There was a file, open in the back seat, with some stationary with the Pine law firm letterhead on it. So they were looking for proof that she was still somehow involved in the case. Good luck on finding that, she thought as she teleported up onto the roof of a nearby high-rise. She took the pacifier from her mouth. “Annoying.” “I will teach you a spell to chase them away,” Tac said. “Chase them away?” “Sure. Magic Girls need to make the mundanes scatter, stay away from dangerous places. Nice simple spell. You envision something unpleasant and focus it… Though with your weird ways of casting spells who know how it will work. Still, it is simple enough.” “No.” “No what?” “I’m not going to cast it. They are just doing their jobs, and it is not like they are going to see anything that will be a problem for Cotton and Black. I’ll just ignore them.” “But this is a teachable moment.” “I don’t care.” She teleported back to her apartment and ended her magical girl transformation. Tac had jumped from her shoulder. “Boring.” “I can learn that spell later,” she told the cat as she picked up the packed boxes and stacked them next to the door. Tac shook her cat head and then went and curled up on the couch. Kristine went and cleaned everything up, considering what she might do if she got a house. That all she needed to do was to want one and she would be given one seemed so unlikely. It was like she had won a lottery. And in a way she supposed she had. Just not a lottery that she would have bought a ticket for. She had everything sorted out and cleaned up when she heard someone knocking on her door. Not expecting any visitors she went to the door, stood up on her toes, and looked out the peephole. On her doorstep stood the handsome Olivia. “What the hell?” she asked aloud even as she unlocked the door. “Olivia, you can’t be here, there…” That was all she got before Oliva had her wrapped in her arms, her lips pressed against Kristine’s, her tongue slipping into Kristine’s mouth. It was like the night they had last seen each other. That was one of her thoughts at that moment. She also recalled that their hands had been in each other panties, and she worried that Olivia’s hands would slide down from her shoulders and discover what she wore instead of panties. That was another of her thoughts. She also was a little surprised at the tongue in her mouth. It seemed strange and well, the only word that came to her mind, strangely was, gross. It seemed a little gross. Then suddenly before Kristine could think of anything Oliva pushed her away, she herself stumbling a few steps back to fall against the door jamb. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Oliva said, crying. Kristine stared at Olivia, her mouth hanging open. She closed her mouth, then asked, “Sorry? What? Why?” “I heard, I thought, it didn’t matter. I was in love with you. I was sure it didn’t matter what you looked like, but it felt so wrong. I’m sorry.” “Olivia?” She took a step forward, then stopped. “You love me?” She was surprised. She liked Olivia, a lot, but in love? “Oh,” Kristine said. Of course, she loved Olivia as well. Why had she not seen it? “I…” “I don’t love you anymore,” Olivia cried and wiped at her eyes, smearing eyeliner. “What?” “You’re a child, when I look at you, I feel nothing. When I kissed you I just felt like a monster.” She straightened. “I never should have come here. I have to leave.” “Olivia…” Kristine took a step forward. “No, Kristine, I can’t be near you. It’s tearing me up.” Kristine stopped. “Goodbye.” She turned and fled the apartment. “Olivia,” Kristine said softly and took a step forward. She would just be torturing Olivia if she followed. “Well that was some nice drama,” Tac said as she jumped down from the couch. Kristine turned on the cat. “Shut up.” “That’s hardly nice. And here I am going to help you out.” “Help me out?” Tac saying anything like that seemed so foreign. She did not think the cat was capable of helping her. “I am going to take care of those guys in the car, so they don’t remember seeing your friend coming in here, cause that is probably important, then I am going to talk to your friend and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” “Oh,” Kristine said, suddenly feeling bad for her earlier thought. “And then I am going to get her on the rebound and fuck her until she can’t even remember your name.” “What?” The cat looked up at her. “She’s got a nice figure, and I am one horny kitty.” “Listen you damn cat I’ll pick you up by the scruff o the neck and shake the sh…” Tac was suddenly the buxom, tall woman in a tuxedo. She moved fast, grabbing Kristine and yanking the smaller girl across her lap as she dropped onto the couch. Skirt flipped up, training panties yanked down, she proceeded to wail on Kristine’s bottom, in the middle of the apartment, with the door to the hallway wide opened. It was humiliating. And it hurt a lot. “You Listen. I put up with a lot of crap from you cause you are cute, but you don’t get to tell me who I fuck.” Kristine was squirming, trying to break free, biting down on screams and sobs, worried someone could come and look into her apartment. Then suddenly she was on the floor, dumped from Tac’s lap, and Tac was heading out the door. “Don’t wait up,” Tac called back with a cruel smile as she left. Kristine watched her go, wiped her eyes, then stumbled to her feet, and with the training panties around her ankles, stumbled to the door and closed it. She bent down, pulled the training panties up. As they slid over her well-spanked bottom, she hissed at how much it had hurt. Had that bitch Tac used claws when she spanked her? Well, she would show Tac, she would… What would she do? Chase after Tac, tell her to leave Olivia alone? Scream ‘don’t have sex with my ex-girlfriend’? It was ridiculous. Olivia was not stupid, no easy lay. If Tac could seduce her, it would be because it was what Olivia wanted, at least at that moment. She sat down on the couch. Jumped up with a cry of pain. What sort of crazy magical spanking had Tac given her? She stood there, still sniffing, thinking about her friend and her life and her very adulthood which had all been snatched away for some stupid reason. She thought about how helpless she felt about it all. She thought about how there was nothing she could do about any of it. “Mr Bear,” she cried. And then the bear was there, and she threw herself into its warm, soft hug. She cried into the fur, and Mr Bear gently patted her bottom, easing the pain there. She felt completely pathetic, and at the same time completely safe. BREAK POINT#4 And now the new part that has not beeN posted yet Later, sprawled on her couch, in a too big t-shirt, the padding of a training panty a subtle but unforgettable presence, stared at the TV. She was not really watching what was on it, it was the background for her thoughts. Olivia, and what she represented. Things had been happening so quickly that she had not really considered what her life was going to be like. Saturday morning she had woken up, and everything was normal. It was now Monday evening, and she had lost her job, probably her friends, a girlfriend she had not realised was her girlfriend, her potty skills and her maturity. Things had been happening too fast. She had not really thought about it. Now that she was thinking about it Kristine did not like it. She sniffed, suddenly worried she might start crying. She rubbed at her eyes, took a deep breath. “I can turn this around,” she said out loud. It made her better to hear that, but what followed was the silent question, ‘how?’ Pulling her knees up to her chest she considered what she would need to do to fix things. She did not think she could break the magic that had changed her. She had, under duress as it had been, accepted a contract. There was something sacrosanct to that. Magical rules that had been established that would not be broken. The sticking point was that she was a child. It did not matter that she had a bridging ID, the fact that anyone who looked at her was going to see a little girl. And if she were not careful they would see a little girl in diapers. Jobs, relationships, even leisure activities would all be denied to her. Suddenly she was depressed again. She recalled, only a few days before, flipping through the channels until she could present to Tac a magical girl: Magical Parfait of the Baker’s Dozen she recalled. She could be, she realised, a joke. She could go on TV, or maybe get jobs performing. A cute little girl who was not really a little girl. Her knowledge of entertainment law was sketchy, but she seemed to remember that there was a limit on how much children could work. An apparent little girl, who was really an adult, would probably be useful. She supposed had she ever wanted to go into entertainment than this might be the best thing that ever happened to her. But while she had wanted to stand in front of a court as a lawyer, standing in front of an audience as a performer had never occurred to her. A professional joke, just like Magical Parfait, and other magical girls like her. No, she realised, she would be even a bigger joke because of the theme of her magic, and the diapers. Exhausted by her depressing thoughts, she turned off the TV, unfolded her couch, pulled her blankets over her head. She just wanted to sleep. Morning came, as it had since her transformation, with a wet dream and a messy diaper. She lay there, breathing heavily, waiting for the sensation to pass, and kind of wishing it would not. Then she called for Mr Bear so he could clear her up. It was just so much easier. After Mr Bear had her in a fresh diaper, she dismissed him. Sitting up on her fold out bed she wondered if all the Nursery Knights had to deal with that. And then she smacked her hand into her forehead. She could find them, talk to them, get them to tell her what the deal was, how they might have dealt with it. No dealing with Tac, who she really did not want to speak to, and certainly did not want to confide in. Staying in her diaper, she went to her laptop, turned it on, waited for it to boot up. It took so long. She summoned her magic bag, wrote a note that she wanted a new computer and a tablet. The message went into the side pocket, the bag dismissed. Once her computer was running, she opened a browser window and began to search. Terms like ‘Nursery Knights’, ‘magical baby girls’, ‘diaper magical girls’ got her some results, but she only found a handful of useful articles. There was a magical sighting page, with an entry on the Nursery Knights. It had not been updated in more than fifteen years. They had been active in Sacramento about twenty years prior. Kristine’s family had lived in Sacramento, but they had moved north to Seattle shortly before the Nursery Knights had been active. Had Tac shown up when she had been supposed to, would Kristine's family have moved? The Magical Realm certainly had access to money. Her father had taken them to Seattle because he had a new job there. She could envision Tac using the Magic Realm's money to keep her and her family in Sacramento. Or perhaps her teleporting power was to allow for the commute. Putting such thoughts aside she read what information was available. There was mention of a few battles, one in the downtown core. No record of any civilian casualties. Kristine found a few stories of people found asleep, unable to wake for a few months. She supposed that made sense for something that had been called the Nightmare King. Then the Nursery Knights all but disappeared. She spent about an hour reading through various sites but found nothing online that really helped her. Shutting her computer off she leaned back. Her padding felt damp on her bottom, and the diaper crinkled. Shaking her head, Kristine got up from her bed and went to the bathroom to clean up. It was still early when Kristine left her apartment. She had a small bag, loaded with a few extra training pants and an envelope full of computer money. Her outfit was all her new clothing, a black, designer A-line dress, with a skirt that hid her padding. She had paired it with a faded jean jacket. Out in front of her building, she decided not to call a cab but went for a walk instead. Kristine used to like going for walks. With school and the working at the law firm, she had had less time for that. Now she had nothing but time. She sighed loudly as she stood on a street corner, waiting for a break in the traffic. “Something wrong sweetie?” The person asking a question was a school crossing guard. An older woman with a kind smile. Kristine had not even noticed her, but it had been a long time since she had needed crossing guard’s help. “I’m just tried,” Kristine said, not even thinking to explain her problems. “You should get lots of sleep sweetie,” she told Kristine, then, a break in the traffic presenting itself, put her whistle to her lips, raised her sign, and stepped out into the crosswalk. Kristine mumbled a thank you as she crossed. Several other children, who Christine had not really noticed either, were louder in their thanks. There sure were a lot of kids around, she thought. Of course, because they were going to school. Kids were walking, almost always with an adult, though. Walking past a school, she noticed how many were being dropped off by parents. It looked like children had grown a lot less independent than she was a child. Kids a few years from being teenagers seemed to be treated more like they were children half their age, or so Kristine thought. It made Kristine rethink her earlier concerns about looking like a child. It was worse than she had thought if this was the new normal for children. “Goddamn depressing,” she said softly. No one tried to stop her, no truant officers or police demanding to know what she was doing, but she saw curious gazes turned her way. She really did not want deal with anyone asking her questions. The morning grew late, children and commuters disappeared from the streets. She watched the cars going by, supposed that people were out shopping, like her. Kristine had been walking for a while, but she was not tired, no ache in her leg muscles. Recalling what Tac had said she could only assume that she was enjoying another of the benefits of being a magical girl. Even untransformed it appeared she enjoyed a stronger body. Almost two hours after she had set off she reached the shopping mall she had wanted to visit. It had not been open for long, and it was not too crowded. In an electronic store, Kristine went to the computer isle and looked around. She had educated herself about computers, enough to know what she wanted. Before price had always been a concern, but now she had money waiting to be spent. It took her about twenty minutes to decide between the three computers she had been considering, and then she stood around for several minutes, waiting for someone to come up and ask to help her. She was a little surprised that the salespeople had left her alone so long. Then she remembered. She was a kid. Of course, they were ignoring her. They probably thought she was screwing around while her parents were shopping somewhere else. “Excuse me, I’d like to buy this,” she called to a middle-aged man who passed close by. He paused, looked around, and then, Kristine was sure he sighed, he walked over to her. “What is it you want young lady?” “This,” she put her hand on the laptop she had chosen. He looked at it, then her. “Is your mother around?” “I’ll pay for it,” she told him. He looked at her for a few seconds, she guessed he was trying to decide if she was serious if he was about to get a commission out of the sale. “Okay, we’ll ring it up.” He reached under the shelf, grabbing one of the boxes. She paused on their way to the cash registers and pointed at a tablet. “And one of those.” Again he looked at her, thoughtfully, perhaps taking in her clothing. Then he grabbed another box. When they reached the cash register, he said, “All right, so where is your mother, or father?” She reached into her bag and took out the envelope with the cash in it. She had already figured out the cost, so she put the hundred dollar bills and fifty dollar bills in front of him. “I am paying for it myself. I am really spoiled.” Kristine was not sure what the salesman had been expecting, but probably not a large wad of cash. She wondered why she had not used her credit card. It probably would have been easier. Had she wanted to flash her money around? Seemed more than a little childish to her. “I’m joking,” she told him and pulled her bridging ID out. “It’s really okay. I’m older than I look.” She smiled as she held out the card. He took it from her, looked at it, flipped it over, read what was there. “You’re from the Magical Realm?” “Well, not really.” She did not want to say she was a Magical Girl. “It’s complicated.” The ID fell from his hands to the counter. “You’re a Magical Girl,” he said, nervously, looking around. “Look, I don’t…” “Fuck, is some monster going to show up? You’re going to get us all killed.” He was not shouting, but he was loud, and a few people were looking towards him. She had heard that some people were afraid of all things magical. She had never seen it before. “Listen, just take my money and give me my receipt and my stuff and I will be out of here. I’ll never come back.” “Fuck you,” he said quite loudly. “Dan, is there a problem?” A middle-aged man in a shirt and tie had approached. “She’s a fucking Magical Girl.” “Dan, go, take your break.” “But…” “Go to the break room.” Dan stared at the man, shook his head, and then almost ran away. The manager, Kristine assumed, quietly rang her up, looked at her ID once, then took her money. He did not ask her to come again. No one asked if she had found everything she wanted. People were staring at her. “Fuck,” Kristine muttered as she left. She should have shopped online. Who knew she would have to deal with such crap. She had planned to shop a little more but had no stomach for it. Leaving the mall, she hailed a taxi. As she got in with her purchases, she said to the driver, “Take me to the downtown branch of the library.” The driver pulled away from the mall. He did not want to talk, which was okay with Kristine. Kristine had excellent research skills. However, she was in no way a professional. Librarians were professionals, which was why she had come to the library. An older woman, probably around fifty, looked down at Kristine. “The Nursery Knights?” Kristine nodded. “Yes. I want to find out what I can about them.” “I see,” she simply said, and then, “come along.” She led Kristine to her desk where she sat down and started her search. She did not invite Kristine to take a seat, there was not even a chair there for visitors. However, she was not left standing for long. Perhaps after a minute or two, the librarian scribbled down some notes and then stood up, once more asking Kristine to follow. It was a pleasure to watch a professional at work, Kristine often thought. They went to an old-fashioned card catalogue, though they only stayed there a few moments. Then there was a short stop at an old microfiche machine. Kristine was not even sure she would know how to use that device. That done the woman began to pull books and old periodicals from various shelves. In less than an hour, Kristine was looking at a stack of material sitting on a table. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re welcome. Most of that material cannot be taken from the library. Leave it on the table when you are finished, we’ll get it shelved.” She turned and walked away. Kristine began to read. There was a book on the various teams of Magical Girls who had operated on the West Coast for the past thirty years. There was a full chapter on the Nursery Knights, though much of it was the author’s supposition about why a team of little girls had been chosen, and that magic must be related to innocence. It was still interesting. She put that aside, picked up a book of photography, found several pictures of the Nursery Knights within. Faces were blurry, but she would make out the little girls wearing the same style of outfits she wore when transformed. The diapers were embarrassingly obvious. A scholarly book about magical girls in general mentioned the Nursery Knights a few times, and how as a group composed of small children they represented an example of how irresponsible the Magical Realm was. “Preaching to the choir sister,” Kristine said softly as she put the book aside. She read more books, magazine articles, even an interview done with Nursery Knight Becca. Not that Becca, probably Rebecca, had a lot to say. Kristine guessed that Becca was perhaps about eight at the time, but the person doing to story assumed an age of about half that. Christine had been making notes of when the Nursery Knights had first appeared and when they had disappeared. The interview with Becca was one of the last times anyone saw one of the Nursery Knights. She had been at her research for a couple of hours. Straightening up, amazed at the fact her back did not hurt, she was aware of the wet, squishy feeling around her bottom from a soaked training panty. Hoping that she was not leaking she nearly ran to the bathroom. The inside of her dress’s skirt was just a little damp, and it did not show, fortunately. Her training panty was heavy with her pee, and she tossed it into the garbage once she had changed. Back at the table she looked through the few remaining books and magazines but was not able to add to her knowledge of the Nursery Knights. They had been much like most magical girl teams, but for their youth. But unlike those other groups, when they had finished their fight they had disappeared completely. Where had they gone? She left the books and magazines on the table as she had been told. On the way out she paused near a donation box, a sign over it reading, ‘Help Support Our Library’. She had a few hundred dollars left after her purchase of the laptop and tablet. Most of it went into the donation box, but for enough left for her cab ride home. Tac came into Kristine's apartment in her cat form. It was early evening. Kristine had set up her laptop and told herself she was still doing research, but she was really just playing around with all the new features the better computer and OS had given her. The cat jumped up onto the coffee table. “Let’s go, we have some more training to do.” Kristine almost told Tac to go to hell, but instead, she stood up and lisped out her transformation chant. She stood in her uniform, suddenly feeling more embarrassed by it. Having seen pictures of the Nursery Knights wearing that outfit, the juvenile costume felt even more so. The short skirt, the puffy sleeves, the lace trim, the ribbon on which her pacifier hung, the rattle shaped mace, and of course the thick diaper. Tac jumped up onto her shoulder. “There’s a big park west of here, do you know it?” “Yeth, I know it.” “Teleport us there for the next lesson.” Kristine did so, appearing on the roof of a medium-sized building that looked down on several acres of green space. People were enjoying the end of the day, a soccer game and a baseball game was going on at either side of the park, and people moving around between. “Okay,” Tac said. “When a Magical Girl needs to fight she should do her best to keep people from getting hurt?” “What about pwopety?” “Property damage is not a problem. We got the money to pay for it.” Kristine supposed that made sense based on what she had learned that day. Tac continued. “You need to be able to make people leave an area, so they don’t get hurt.” “How do I do that?” “It was like I was telling you. If you want to chase someone away from a place you envision something unpleasant, though not frightening, and focus on an area, then push that feeling into that area.” “Thomething unpleathant?” “A feeling of being too cool, or too hot, or an annoying sound.” “Okay.” “Clear everyone from about a hundred feet in every direction of the fountain.” Kristine nodded, stepped to the edge of the building. She looked down at the space Tac had defined, she let the words come to her as they had before. “Dirty Diaper Diaper Pail,” she said, and then, “Fuck cat.” “Hey, I don’t make this crap up.” She wanted to be angry, but when she saw what was happening below, she could only be amazed. People were leaving the area she had envisioned. They were not running, they did not even seem to be aware of it, but they evacuated the space in an orderly manner liked it had been well planned and practised. It could not have taken more than twenty seconds before the space around the fountain was deserted. People had redistributed themselves around the park, apparently unaware of their actions. What was more was that people were walking the long way around, again seeming not to notice that anything was weird in they did. They were, on further observation, actively not looking towards the space around the fountain. “Weird.” “Jump down there,” Tac told her. Kristine judged the distance and then took a few steps back. She then ran up to the edge and leapt. She sailed across the distance between, landing close to the fountain, hitting the brickwork, her shoes leaving scratches on the surface. “Oopthieth,” she said looking back at the damage. Tac made a rude sound. “That’s not an oops level of damage, trust me.” She jumped from Kristine’s shoulder to the fountain side. “No one will care.” Kristine looked around and then walked towards the edge of the space she had envisioned. No one was looking at her, no one had seen her land, heard her land. She stood, about two feet away from a man who was talking on his cell phone. She could hear what he was saying, but he did not seem to notice her. “Weird.” She walked back towards the fountain. “But what happenth if the monthter weaveth the spathe?” “Why do you think Magical Girls are in teams? A few girls working together can contain the monsters.” “I thee.” “But let’s assume you need to keep a monster contained when it is really trying to get away. Or you want to avoid accidents and not just the type you have in your diapers.” “Hey!” Ignoring her outburst, Tac continued, “You don’t want someone tripping and falling into the area, or maybe a piece of a destroyed building goes flying out. If that is likely, you need to firm up the barrier, so it does not let anything pass through.” Kristine nodded. “So, now I want you to envision the barrier becoming something that will keep people out. Visualize it and say the words.” “Okay,” Kristine told Tac, then looked around. Prison cell. Sheets of thick plastic. Steel walls. Chainlink fences. Wood slats, gaily painted, safely rounded with no sharp edges. “Cwib time thafe thpathe,” she said aloud, and all around her appeared crib like bars. “Fuck,” she said again. “How cute,” Tac said in syrupy tones. She kicked the cat into the fountain. Splashing and sputtering the cat thrashed about in the water for a few seconds before turning into a woman. Tac, the woman, splashed out of the knee-deep water. She was soaked, so her ordinarily tight clothing was obscenely clinging to her. Kristine tried to tell herself she was not all jealous and was careful not to look down at her own lack of curves. Stepping out of the fountain Tac stood over her, glaring down at her. “Do you want another spanking already little girl?” Recalling the spanking of only the night before Kristine took a step back. Her lip trembled as she shook her head. “Don’t mix cats with water you overgrown toddler.” “I’m not…” she said, but looking up at Tac’s angry face killed the rest of the words in her mouth. Tac snapped her fingers. Water exploded away from her. A mist of it hit Kristine in the face, leaving her lightly drenched. Perfectly dry Tac stood there, imperious for a moment, then the woman was gone, and the cat was back. The cat leapt back up onto the fountain edge and stared at Kristine, almost as if she was daring Kristine to try something. Kristine did not take up that dare. Some water dripped from her hair. With the impossibly smug look that only a cat was capable of Tac said, “Now you have your safe crib space. That will stop most things from getting in and out, but a determined or a powerful monster might break it.” Kristine nodded, still feeling scared and not trusting her voice. “Or perhaps the monster has minions. Either way, you may need some extra help.” “What about the other Magical Girlth?” Kristine asked. “You might be fighting on your own, or they might be just as busy. Fortunately, you got Mr Bear to give you a hand.” “Mithter Bear?” “Consider if you had an army of your Bear? Each one ready to knock a monster away from the barrier, or form a wall of fur to keep the barrier safe.” Kristine nodded, seeing the point. “So, picture an army of your Mr Bears, and then, call them.” Kristine closed her eyes and did just that. She imagined an army of giant teddy bears. She opened her eyes. “Todayth the day the teddy bearth haf their pi’nic,” she called out. Well, that was not quite as bad as the other things she had to say. Around her formed shadows, and those shadows began to clump together. “Looks good so far,” Tac said. In seconds there stood about fifty or sixty shadowy forms all around her. Then, with a sound like a pop, those forms became giant teddy bears. They looked a lot like Mr Bear, though they lacked his more distinct features. They had an unfinished look to them. The close to sixty bear heads all turned towards her. It was a little creepy. “What now?” she asked Tac. “Now, think about what you want them to do.” Kristine started at them for several seconds. Then she giggled as every bear suddenly pushed its hip forward and grabbed its crotch with a big paw. “Real mature,” Tac said. Kristine ignored the cat as the bears started doing the thriller dance. “A magical army and thy best she can think to do with it is play,” Tac said. Kristine pretended the cat was not there, just watching her dancing bears. She could see that there was a lot that might be done with the bears. They could handle crowd control, probably lock enemies down she so could hit them, even just stand a perimeter guard as Tac had earlier suggested. Or she could make her very own teddy bear flash mob. The bears had been dancing for a few minutes (she felt sorry for everyone on the other side of the barrier who could not see the show) when Kristine suddenly felt dizzy. “Oh my,” she said, stumbling back a few steps before sitting slowly on the edge of the fountain. The bears all stopped moving. As she sat there, taking deep breaths, Kristine felt her diaper grow warm under her as she wet it without control. “Wha’ happen?” she asked. “It takes a lot of magical energy to summon and maintain your bears,” Tac told her in a tone that suggested she thought that Kristine should have known that. “Teddy bearth ta bed,” Kristine said, and the bears disappeared. As soon as they were gone, she felt better. “You need to work on your magical stamina,” Tac told her. “Magical thtamina?” “Your ability to channel and hold the magical power. The more magic you use, the better you’ll get. Normally, of course, you are working with a team, and each girl can handle a different thing. Still, a Magical Girl never knows when she’ll have to fight on her own.” “I would like to meet the other Magical Girls,” Kristine said, seeing an opportunity. “What?” “The other Nursery Knights. I would like to talk to them.” “I’ll see what I can do,” Tac told her. Glad that Tac had not asked why Kristine got unsteadily to her feet. Her soaked diaper sagged under the weight of her pee. “One more thing and then we’ll call it a night.” “One more?” Kristine asked. She wanted to teleport home and get a fresh diaper, or training panty. As long as it was dry. “If things are terrible, then you want to take the area you are fighting in out of the world.” “Out of the worl’?” “Think about it as moving the area to another dimension.” “Another dimenthion?” “Are you a parrot?” Kristine was about to say, ‘Parrot,’ but shut her mouth on the word. “How?” “Visualize it. Think about this space sinking away.” Kristine looked around, thought about the ground under her becoming water, the entire area sinking away, going somewhere else. “Into the dark toy box and clothe the lid,” she said, sweeping her hand out. The barrier went black. Suddenly all around her was darkness. It was as if the temperature suddenly dropped, and she shivered, her diaper growing cold and clammy around her hips. There was an indirect light, and there were long shadows all around her. Turning in place, she started open mouth. “I’m really somewhere elthe.” “You are,” Tac told her. “Did I leave a hole in the worl’?” “No. Its as if this space no longer exists, the space it took up no longer there.” Kristine thought about that and shivered again. “Okay, take us back out.” Kristine nodded. Without being told she visualised the area returning to the world and said, “Open the toy box.” It became warm and brighter, and around her, the park returned. “That’s enough for today,” Tac said as she jumped up onto Kristine’s shoulder. “Back up to the roof.” Kristine tried to teleport, but her concentration failed, and she felt as if the world stuttered around her. Her hand tightened on the mace, and she almost hurled it at the ground. She felt tears in her eyes. It was all so hard, and she was so tired. She realised her emotions were suddenly out of control with exhaustion and she had been about to throw a tantrum because of it. I am not a baby, she told herself and focused. Kristine successfully teleported on her second attempt. Standing on the roof she followed Tac’s direction, dropping the barrier and then the exclusion field. From above she watched as people began to move back into the space she had earlier driven them from. Again they did not seem to notice that they were returning to the area, just as they had not been aware they had been leaving it. Within a few minutes it was as if it had never happened. Magic was amazing, Kristine thought. She teleported back to her apartment. Tac left her for some other business. Kristine made sure not to ask if that other business was Olivia. She sat down on her couch, her diaper squishing beneath her. She just wanted to rest a moment, then she would change back, but she was asleep in seconds. BREAK POINT#5 Someone, probably Mr Bear, had unfolded her couch, undressed her, changed her, and put her in the bed, sheets tucked in around her. While the magical bear could do all that to her and not wake her up was a little disconcerting, there was something about it that her still sleepy mind found comforting. Knowing that there was always going to be something that would take care of her. Closing her eyes she tried to go back to sleep, but after only a few seconds she opened her eyes and turned her head towards the clock in the room. She had been asleep for a few hours, and it was not too late in the evening. Kristine did not think she would get back to sleep. Sitting up, the sheets slipping off her, she found herself dressed in one of the pyjama tops she had bought. Mr Bear had not bother putting the bottoms on her. She got up from the bed, felt too lazy to hunt up the pyjama pants or switch from the thick diaper to a pair of training pants. She got her new laptop and tablet, setting them up on the coffee table as she sat down on the sofa bed. At first, she was not sure what to do, then she decided to search for a house. She suddenly wanted a bedroom, with a real bed. That search kept her busy until she felt tired enough to go back to sleep. Morning. Waking up from an orgasmic wet dream. Messy diaper. Mr Bear cleaning her up. She doubted she would ever get used to it. At the very least the sweaty, panting, twitchy, wet and wonderful feeling of the wet dream was something that would never get dull. Well, she hoped. Tac was not around. She sat on her folded up couch, wondering what she was going to do. Kristine thought that there was nothing more she could learn in researching the Nursery Knights. She would have to wait until Tac got back to her. Shopping was out. Leaning back on the couch, diaper crinkling under her, TV tuned to a local news station, what to do with the day occupied her thoughts. Sitting around the apartment sounded dull. Tac had said she needed to work on her magical stamina. That seemed like a good idea. Lisping out her transformation phrase left Nursery Knight Krisy standing in the apartment. She grabbed her a bag for her tablet, hung it over her shoulder, then tucked her tablet into it. Looking at herself in the mirror she giggled at how incongruous the black bag looked with the baby style dress. Then she disappeared, teleporting away. Kristine looked at houses. She practised putting up exclusion fields, making everyone leave the house. Then she would teleport in and look around. After getting a feel for the place, she would teleport out and then drop the field, watching as people went back in. It was kind of fun. By the end of the day she was feeling tired. She had been using her magic pretty heavily. Still, she felt kind of good about it, as if she was making progress. Back in her apartment she transformed back to her regular self, changed out of the wet diaper and into a set of dry training pants. She looked over the list of houses, considered what she had seen, then wrote a note explaining that she wanted to know more about one of the houses. She summoned her magic bag, put the letter in it, then dismissed the bag. Afterwards, Kristine made her dinner and was about to eat it when Tac came into the room. “Eat up, we have more training to do tonight. We’ll be working on scrying and remote viewing.” “All right,” Kristine said, then asked, “have you found anything out about the other Nursery Knights?” Tac shook her cat head. “Not yet.” Kristine nodded, not yet wanting to push, not wanting Tac asking more questions. So she ate quickly and then transformed. She and Tac headed out into the night for more practice. The next day Kristine found a set of papers in her magic bag. They were what turned out to be papers from someone who had performed a magical inspection on the house. Without the property owner’s knowledge apparently. As a lawyer, well, as someone who wanted to be one, that seemed a little wrong. As someone who was considering moving into that house she found she did not mind much. Along with the inspection results were a list of spells that could be used to repair the problems that the inspector had found. There was a report on the neighbourhood and the neighbours. Finally, there were the details of the offer that might be made. She read it over. She was not going to have to spend the money, but it still seemed like a big deal. The house was pleasant, not a big home, but it was on a big lot a lot of privacy. It had three bedrooms, the master unusually large with an east facing window. She picked up a pen and scrawled on the bottom of the page that she wanted the house. Then she returned it to her magic bag and dismissed it. Now what, she asked herself. What was she going to do? She wished she could talk to her friends, but all her friends were working for law firms. She could not contact any of them. Kristine really wanted to contact Olivia, but she knew she could not. She was also afraid of what she might learn if she did. After several minutes of sitting there she knew she had to do something. Transforming she teleported from her apartment. Standing on a windowsill, pacifier in her mouth, so she was invisible, Kristine looked in at the classroom. Perhaps she could go back to school. Relive her childhood. People always dreamed of that. It did not take her long to decide it would be more a nightmare than a dream. Classes looked boring. Worse for her as she knew everything they were teaching, or at least vaguely recalled it. And she was pretty sure that being a student in training pants or diapers would not be in anyway fun. After about an hour of watching she teleported away. There were rumours that the police had magical girls on the payroll. Being a police officer would let her still be part of the legal system. She stood in a corner, invisible, investigating the city’s central police station, trying to see what it might be to work there. Being invisible offered her a lot of opportunities see how the officers behaved. It seemed the female officers were subject to a fair amount of low-level harassment. It was coached as good-natured ribbing, but the female staff took a lot more of it. She saw no evidence that there was any magical staff there. Kristine suspected if there were any they were made to keep a low key. Harassment and being treated like an embarrassment. Kristine teleported away. The fire department seemed like a better work environment. As long as you did your work it looked like they gave everyone the same amount of respect. Hard work, but it looked rewarding. And the fire engines looked cool. It would be something to look into. Later. She teleported away. There was one more area where Kristine thought that she might get a job, The entertainment industry. She had thought about that earlier and been dismissive of it, but there were reasons to consider it. Kristine had learned that there was filming going on in the city, she teleported over to watch. As she stood invisible among the crew, she considered what it would be like to work in such an environment. Magical Girls had a certain cachet, and she was pretty cute. If she was not going to grow older, and she hoped it was not the case, but if it was, she was the type of child actress that the industry probably wanted. One that would not get older and age out of the part. Honestly, after watching for a few hours, she thought it looked a little dull. However, she could not deny that everyone seemed to be working hard. When Kristine teleported away, she decided she was willing to consider entertainment. “Have you found out about the other Nursery Knights?” Kristine asked Tac. “I am working on it,” Tac said. She sounded cross, and her hair stood up along her spine. “Well, work harder.” “Why is it so important to you?” The day had given Kristine an answer other than, ‘I want to know if they wake up with orgasms and wet diapers’. What she said was, “I want to know what to do with my life. They might have some ideas.” “Fine,” Tac said. “I’ll look deeper, but tonight we have to practice.” “I want to work on repair spells,” Kristine said, and then named some of the spells she had learned of that morning. “Repairs?” “I can? Can’t I?” “Well, you can, but why?” “I want to, and how to shield people and place from heat and fire.” “The fire shields are useful.” “And the repairs.” “Fine,” Tac told her. “Let’s go.” Kristine had fun that night. She and Tac teleported around the city, fixing things. A street covered in potholes and cracks left like new. A large number of street lights shining brightly again. Graffiti wiped away. She especially liked cleaning the graffiti, a wave of her hand, a lisping command, and walls were left unmarked. She also practised fire shields, though that was a little harder because there were no significant fires to work with. When Kristine returned home, she felt tired but pleased. “Okay, tomorrow night you can practice on your own. Fill in some more potholes.” “What are you going to do?” “I am going to find out about the other Nursery Knights before you throw a tantrum.” “I’m not going to throw a tantrum.” “Which is exactly what I would expect a toddler about to have a meltdown to say.” “Just shut up.” “Make sure you practice,” Tac said, and then was gone. “Stupid cat,” Kristine said. A large number of countries and cities had asked that the Magical Realm set up its central embassy in their territory. The diplomatic branch of the Magical Realm had decided to ignore all those requests and dump their embassy in the middle of the Antarctic. Tac usually thought that was pretty funny, but when she had to make her way to the embassy, she had to admit it was a little inconvenient. Even for a cat who walked through walls and played the Schrodinger game to be where she should not, it still took some time to get there. Which was why she had told Kristine to practice on her own. Tac figured she’s be gone at least a full twenty-four hours. The Antarctic was cold, even for a cat with as fabulous fur as she had. One of the first things the Magic Realm had done on setting up was to chill the continent back down to its proper temperature. No global warming allowed there anymore. It was showing off to the mundanes in part, but the staff were the type to like the cold. As Tac glided into the embassy on two legs, wrapped in a thick fur coat, she was greeted by a pair of ice warriors who looked her up and down and then stood aside so she could pass. “Thanks, boys,” she said, walking further into the ice palace. She passed through public areas and moved into the offices where the real work happened. Down, several levels below the ice was a room that looked like a mission control sort of place. Staff watched floating crystal balls, staring at the events taking place. Scrying in a world where almost no one knew how to put up a ward was one of the easiest ways to gather intelligence. Tac looked about and then walked up to a woman with white skin and blue hair, wearing a black suit that did all the right things for her. “Hey sweet stuff, looking for details on the Nursery Knights, Magical Girl team. Got a location?” The woman smiled. “Nursery Knights huh?” She spun the globe in front of her. Tac could have sworn she saw snowflakes in it. “Hmmm, I think you need to talk to Controller White Out.” She looked up towards one of the highest levels of the control centre. Tac followed her gaze, saw that the woman was looking at another white skinned, blue-haired beauty. “Well, happy to talk to the Controller. Thanks, sweetheart.” She left the first woman behind and climbed the stairs to where Controller White Out worked. “Hey Controller, I need some help finding some Magical Girls. Got time for a fellow working girl.” The woman called White Out looked at Tac for several seconds. “You don’t look the type who actually works that much.” “Guilty as charged, it’s the cat in me.” White Out smiled. “Well, one can’t be blamed for their nature I always say. Magical Girls?” “A team called the Nursery Knights.” White Out pursed her lips. “That sounds familiar.” She turned to her globe, spinning it about. “Hmm, I actually have a recent spike.” “That would probably be Kristine. I recently activated her.” White Out looked away from the globe towards Tac. “The Nursery Knights were active about twenty years ago.” “Yeah, I was a little late.” “A little?” “The cat in me.” White Out actually smiled. “All right, let’s ignore the recent activity.” She went back to the globe, turning it, running her hands over it. “Okay, now I remember. We started getting activity on them about twenty years ago, pretty consistent for about two years.” “Sounds right. It took the Nursery Knights about two years to take down the Nightmare King as I understand it.” “After that, there was consistent, low-level activity, about what you would expect from Magical Girls who are no longer active.” “Okay. So do you have any recent activity from them?” “No,” White Out said. “No?” “They went dark almost sixteen years ago.” “Went dark? Like they never transformed again?” “No. Even an untransformed Magical Girl occasionally gives off energy.” “So they’re dead?” White Out shook her head. “No, we would have picked up their deaths.” “How does a Magical Girl go dark then?” “It’s difficult. The girls have to actively mask themselves in the world. It takes a lot of work.” “Does it happen often?” “No.” “Has an entire team ever gone dark?” “No.” Tac said nothing for several seconds. “Well, that is weird.” “Yes. It is why I remembered them.” “Well, I am going to have to speak to those in the know.” “Who is that?” “That,” Tac said and smiled, “is first the coordinator of that team, and then their liaisons.” “Ah.” White Out nodded. “But, that being said, are you like all cold, or do you think I can warm you up. I got a talented cat’s tongue, but I don’t want it freezing to anything.” After her usual morning wake-up pleasure and mess Kristine had planned on spending the day fixing stuff to practice her magic, and then she had planned on talking to someone in the fire department. There was a note from Tac in the front pocket of her magic bag, telling her to keep practising. That made the idea of popping around and repairing things seem even better. However, she ended up on the roof of a building across from the courthouse, pacifier in her mouth, using the scrying spells that she had learned to watch the court proceedings. Oscar was a pleasure to watch, and she could see that Daniel was working hard to keep up. He seemed to be enjoying himself. She could not help but feel a stab of envy. Sitting on the edge of the roof, sucking on her pacifier, watching the trial, hours passed before a recess was called. During that time her diaper had grown wet. Something she only noticed when she stood and felt it sag. “Thith ith getting ridiculouth,” she mumbled aloud. She reached under her skirt, checking the diaper. It did not seem too wet yet. How had the actual Nursery Knights dealt with their wet diapers? Had their Mr Bears been continually changing them? After another check of her diaper, she decided she did not need to change it yet. She teleported away from the court, to the roof of the building in which Cotton and Black had their offices. On the roof, she called up her scrying spell and scanned the office for Olivia. It felt a little creepy, spying on her ex, but she wanted to know how Olivia was doing. Kristine found Olivia at her desk, working. Through the scrying spell she watched Olivia as she worked, trying to discern how she was doing. The face that had grown so familiar looked much like it had in the time Kristine had known her. Was she looking sad, or happy? Were their dark circles under her eyes, as if she had not been sleeping? And if she had not been sleeping was that because she was spending her nights crying over love lost, or because Tac was keeping her awake. Was that far off look because she was thinking of Kristine, or Tac, or was she just wondering what she was going to have for dinner? Two other women came up to Olivia. Kristine recognised them both, though she only knew one of them, Wendy Davis, another articling student. The other woman was a secretary, but Kristine had never known her name. They asked Olivia for some help with research in the library. Olivia agreed and went with them. The same smiles, the same tone of voice, Kirstine would be hard pressed to find anything that suggested that Olivia was in any way distressed. What did it mean? Olivia seemed pretty friendly with the secretary, who name Kristine learned was ‘Bethany’. Was Bethany Kristine’s replacement? No, she told herself, Olivia would not just jump into a new relationship. Kristine was sure of that. However, after that every smile had Kristine wondering. Maybe Tac had done something? Maybe Tac had made Olivia forget about her. Though Tac had said she wanted to catch Olivia on the rebound, so she could not have made Olivia forget. Kristine ran her hands through her hair and let a small cry of exasperation around her pacifier. It was so hard. She just wanted to know what Olivia was thinking. Was there a spell for that? She would have to ask Tac. “No,” she growled. Bad enough she was watching Olivia, but to try to read her mind? That would push her well into the creepy territory. Kristine was somewhat aware that she needed to poop, but she ignored it. She could hold it, and she was still trying to understand what Olivia was feeling. Someone mentioned Kristine, wondering if it was true what they had heard. Kristine focused on Oliva’s face, trying to figure out what her expression meant. Was it a sad smile? A frown? Was she about to say something, tell them it was true? Then Kristine was distracted by the feeling in her diaper. The warm, bulky mess that was filling the seat. The scrying spell collapsed, and Kristine opened her mouth in an ‘O’ of surprise. Her pacifier fell from her mouth, jerked to a stop by the ribbon. She reached behind herself, put her hands on the seat of her diaper. There was a weight in the back, and she pushed at it, feeling the warm, almost hot, poop squish again her. She gasped at the strange feeling, kept pressing it against her, even as the continued to fill her diaper. She was squatting down, pushing more of the poop into her diaper. She could not stop herself as she continued to rub the mess against her bottom. What was she doing? What was she feeling? It occurred to her she was visible, for the pacifier was not in her mouth, rubbing the back of her messy diaper. “No,” she grunted, and snatched up the pacifier, putting it back in her mouth. She stood, the mess shifting. Envisioning her apartment, she teleported home. “Mithter Bear,” she cried out. Mr Bear showed up, with her magic bag over his shoulder. Within in moments, the bear had a changing pad on the floor and Kristine on her back. He had her messy diaper off in about twenty seconds and began to clean her up. Soon her bottom was clean, oiled up and powdered. Mister Bear had slid a new diaper under her bottom, lowered her onto it and taped it up around her. Kristine was so glad to be clean, happy that she was no longer tempted by a messy diaper. She thanked Mr Bear and sent him away. Lying on the changing bad, legs spread, the magic bag full of diapers and training pants beside her, Kristine wondered what she was going to do. Would she end up rubbing a messy diaper all over her bottom every time she messed herself? Was she going to mess herself more often? Kristine sat up and grabbed up the changing pad, folding it up and stuffing it into her magic bag. She checked the zippered pocket, seeing if there were any new messages. Dismissing the bag, she reversed her transformation. Back in her clothing from the morning, she realised she was still in a diaper. She had not taken it off from when Mr Bear had changed her that morning. “I should have put on the training pants,” she told herself. However, she did not change out of the diaper. She unfolded her couch, sat down on the thin mattress, and pulled the blankets over her head. Tac was glad to be back in the Magic Realm. She breathed in deeply of the air rich in magical energy. “Good to be home,” she said to herself. “Be better if my expense account was reactivated.” Around her was the Great City, built around the gate that led to the mundane world. Ever since she had started dealing with the Magical Girl program, the city had been Tac’s home. While she would have preferred to make her way straight to the entertainment district, the lack of an expense account would make such a trip nothing but depressing. Instead, she made her way across the city, forced to rely on public transport. Not that she paid for it of course. A cat can sit on top of a tram car, and no one ever notices. If you circled the city, always counter widdershins, after always twenty minutes, one would find themselves looking out at a lake that was an impossible blue. Above the lake was a vast globe of polished silver, the impossible colour of the water reflected in it. The globe was the Office of Magic in the Mundane and handled, among many other things, the deployment of Magical Girls. Switching back to her human form after jumping down from the tram, ignoring an angry call from the tram driver, she stepped up on one of the entry portals. There was a sense of movement for a moment, then she was standing in the central foyer of the Office of Magic in the Mundane. Tac did not bother talking to the receptionist golems (cute as they were made, they gave her a significant ‘Uncanny Valley’ vibe). Her job had brought her to the office many times in the past, and she knew where she wanted to go. In the admin section of Magical Girl processing Tac chatted up a pretty little filing clerk and got her to pull the information on who had been in charge of the Nursery Knight’s project. After a bit of bite (the clerk had some mouse in her, and as a cat, Tac had to nip) and tickle Tac was on her way to the office of one Umon Derrypiz. Umon was, unfortunately, as far as Tac was concerned, male. Tac was pretty good with getting on the right side of women. She had a knack for it. With Umon she was just going to have to be professional. That was annoying. She entered his office, decent size, midlevel paper-pusher type of place. There was a man behind a desk. She assumed Umon. He looked up from whatever he had been working on. “Yes?” “Umon Derrypiz?” “Yes. Who are you?” “Tac, Magical Girl liaison, second class.” “I see. How can I help you?” It seemed to be going well. With a smile, Tac crossed the room. “I’m looking for information on the Magical Girl team the Nursery Knights. I understand you are the coordinator of that team.” “I am the coordinator of a lot of teams. I don’t know why you would expect me to be able to help.” Tac was taken aback. She wondered what had happened that made him get all prickly. Maybe he did not like cats. “I suppose,” she said, “but this team was all little girls, around four or five, kind of unique.” “All Magical Girl teams are unique. That is the point.” Again Tac felt as if she had missed something. “Well, the Nursery Knights as a whole went dark about fifteen years ago, which is weird, so I was hoping to get some details about them. Maybe something about their mission required them to disappear?” “Why are you wasting my time with this?” he demanded, pounding a closed fist on his desk. Were they speaking two different languages that only sounded the same? Tac wondered if she was insulting him. She would have to explain things. “I recently activated the last of the Nursery Knights you see. And she wants to meet the other Knights, to get an idea of what is going on. Poor girl, all lost and alone.” Tac decided to play the sympathy card. “You activated the sixth Nursery Knight?” he asked her. He seemed surprised, maybe. “I’ll admit that I was little late,” Tac said, assuming that was the cause of his surprise. “The sixth Nursery Knight is active, has become a Magical Girl?” Same shocked expression. Tac could not figure it. “Yes. Nice girl. Named Kristine.” “I have to go,” Umon said as he stood up. “What? But what about the Nursery Knights?” “Look them up in the records,” he told her as he started towards the door, almost knocking Tac over. “When are you going to be back? I really wanted to talk to you about this?” “I don’t know, urgent business,” he called back to her as he left the room. “Well, that is just great,” Tac said as she left the office as well. “Now I got to look up records. Maybe mousey will help me.” With his quick pace, almost a run really, Umon left her behind. Tac ambled, as was her way, back towards the admin section. She was about halfway there when someone suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. Tac found herself facing an angry looking Gorgeous. Though as far as Tac was concerned Gorgeous could only look angry, so it really meant nothing to her. “What are you doing back here?” Gorgeous demanded. “Hi Gorgeous, good to see you. Did not miss me?” Gorgeous actually growled, showing teeth. Tac raised her hands. “Now Gorgeous, calm down. I’m here working, for my Magical Girl.” That gave Gorgeous pause, and she stopped showing teeth. “What do you mean?” “She wants to meet the other Nursery Knights, perfectly sensible right.” Gorgeous narrowed her eyes. “Why are you here then?” “Cause I can’t find them for her, and she's really a bitch about constantly asking.” Gorgeous frowned. “What do you mean you can’t find them?” “Just that I can’t. I talked to the monitoring station people at the embassy. I met a really nice lady who while looking like an ice queen melted rather nicely when I…” “Tac!” “Right, sorry. Anyway White Out told me that the Nursery Knights had all gone dark about fifteen years ago.” “What?” Gorgeous’ eyes widened. “Yeah, it is odd, right? I came here to speak to the team’s coordinator to see if I could find out anything, for all the good that did me. Acted like he had never heard of the Nursery Knights and then when I told him I was trying to find them for Kristine he was all surprised and then ran off. I mean, I admit I was a little late but…” “Shut up Tac.” Tac took a step back. “Well excuse me.” Gorgeous was frowning, there was a line between her eyes from concentration. “The team went dark, all at the same time?” “Yes. That is what I said.” Tac sighed. “And you came here, and the coordinator got defensive when you mentioned the Nursery Knights?” “I suppose that might be one way of looking at it.” “And as soon as you mentioned the sixth Nursery Knight was active he suddenly had to leave?” Tac nodded. “Yes. Do you want to state the obvious some more Gorgeous?” “Are you that self-absorbed or are you just stupid?” “I think we both know that I'm just that self-absorbed. It's kind of my thing.” Gorgeous shook her head. “Cats,” she muttered softly, and then said, “This coordinator was responsible for the disappearance of the Nursery Knights, or if not responsible played a part in it. And now that he has learned the sixth Knight is active he has run off to arrange her disappearance.” Tac’s eyes widened. “Hey, that makes sense. That bastard.” “Go, go back to the Mundane Realm. You have my permission to use one of the speed passes.” “But what about Umon, and the other Liaisons?” “I’ll look into that. You get back and see to the protection of your Magical Girl.” “Fine,” Tac said, “I’m going.” She paused. “Don’t suppose you might activate my expense account again? Just so I can get a little pick me up before I go?” “Get out of here,” Gorgeous almost screamed. “Man, calm down,” Tac said as she turned and walked off in the direction of the exit. “Don’t see why you are worried. Kristine is probably just fine.” Kristine was not fine. She was sitting on her bed, blankets pulled over her head, wishing she had never become a magical girl. The money and all the other things seemed little compensation for the fact she had been squatting on a roof, rubbing her messy diaper against her bottom. And just maybe she had enjoyed it. She shook her head angrily in denial. Hours had passed, and the room had grown dark around her. She might have sat under her blankets all night if there had not been a knock on her door. At first, she ignored it, but when the knocking turned to a louder pounding, she tossed off the blanket and stood. “What do you want?” she demanded loudly, walking towards the door, slapping the light on. She looked out the peephole. Two men stood at the threshold of the apartment. Both wore suits, the smaller one in dark grey, the taller, heavier one in dark red. “Hello Miss,” the smaller one said, appearing as if he was trying to look back through the peephole. “We’d like to speak to you about your little friend Tac.” Kristine frowned. Had Tac found out something and sent these two as messengers? She made sure the chain was in place and then opened the door, peeking out. “What about Tac?” she asked. She had a better look at the two men than through the peephole. Their suits looked cheap, smelled of mothballs. The smaller one smiled, showing a mouthful of pointy, yellow teeth. “Ah, your little friend is in trouble. Needs you to help her she does. Isn’t that right Mr Badger?” he looked towards the large man. “Most true Mr Rat. Mewling sadly she was, desperate need of saving. Said she loves you she did.” “You’ve never met Tac,” Kristine said, slamming the door closed, bolting it and jumping back. She had no idea who those men were, but if Tac wanted her help, she was pretty sure she would demand it, and there would be no statements of love. “Now Miss, don’t be like that,” Mr Rat said from the other side of the door. The doorknob rattled, and there was a thump as something heavy hit it. Kristine transformed into a Nursery Knight and jammed her pacifier into her mouth, becoming invisible. A moment later the door came free of its hinges and fell in. Mr Badger entered, followed by Mr Rat. Kristine stepped back towards the wall, ready to teleport away. Mr Badger looked around the main room from his place near the door. Mr Rat looked into her kitchen and then the bathroom. “It looks like she's done a runner Mr Badger,” Mr rat said. “Her profile pegged her a teleporter. She could be anywhere now Mr Rat.” “That is rather unfortunate I'm thinking.” “That is so Mr Rat, but were she a time jumper she could be anywhen. You got to look on the positive side.” “You are correct about that Mr Badger. Should we wait here, in case she comes back?” “I think Mr Rat we had best tell his Loftiness about this.” “He won’t be pleased about it Mr Badger.” “That is most certain Mr Rat, but we do ourselves no favours by putting it off.” “Then let us go Mr Badger.” The two left together. Kristine, still invisible, watched them walk down the hall, towards the elevator. She waited until she heard the elevator arrive, listened to the sound of the door closing. She then stepped into the centre of the room, waved her mace at the broken door. It swung up into place, the twisted hinges mostly righting themselves. Good enough for now, she thought and teleported to the front of the building. About thirty seconds later she saw Mr Rat and Mr Badger exit her building and walk to the parking lot. There they got into a beat up old muscle car and then drove away. Kristine followed them, teleporting from rooftop to rooftop. They drove towards the old manufacturing district. While much of the area had been gentrified, old manufacturing buildings turned to condos, the car stopped in one of the regions that had so far avoided renewal. Parking in the lot of an old foundry the two men left their car and entered the building. Kristine followed them. On the first floor was a room that had probably once served as offices. Now it was empty, but for a throne-like chair on which a man with blue skin, dressed in luxe clothing, grey and red and silver. There were several women there, fawning over the man. Kristine noted that all the woman had blank expressions and glassy eyes. “Where is the girl?” he demanded as Mr Rat and Mr Badger entered. He pushed the woman sitting on his lap to the floor as he stood. “Spooked, she teleported away,” Mr Rat said. “Hardly cared about her little cat friend it seems,” Mr Badger said. “What?” the blue man asked. “She looked older than the other Nursery Knights, didn’t she Mr Badger.” “As you say Mr Rat. Less trusting I would say.” “More mature.” “Damn,” the blue man said. “The Duke will not be pleased.” “One would expect,” Mr Rat said. “We’re returning to the Magical Realm. We’ll get a tracker. Best not to let the Duke know of this.” “Most wise, that is,” Mr Badger said. The blue man reached into his jacket, brought out a gem the size of a chicken egg. It glittered and shone with its own inner light. The light grew, Kristine had to look away. When the glow faded, the three men were done. The women all seemed to come to their senses, looked around, confused, scared. Kristine stayed close to them, waited for them to sort themselves out, followed them from the building and watched over them, still invisible, until they had got to the well lit and safer gentrified area. Satisfied that they would be okay, she teleported back to her apartment. There she found Tac, who looked a little relieved when Kristine showed up. “I saw the damaged door and was worried.” Kristine was a little surprised that Tac could be worried. She waved her mace at the door, completing the repairs to it. Then she told Tac what had happened. Tac told her what she had learned. “Thomeone kidnapped the Nurthery Knightth?” “It does look that way,” Tac said. “And now they want me?” “Complete set I would say. Collectors are like that.” “What the hell? What am I thuppothed to do?” “Ah, good question.” “That’th why I athked it.” Tac nodded. “Well, you could try hiding, but you did say they were going to get a tracker.” “That’th what they thaid.” “Right. Well, if they get a true tracker there is no hiding it. It will find you, but they probably won’t get a true tracker.” “Why?” “Cause they are expensive and most end up killing what they are tracking.” “What?” Kristine’s eyes widened. “Well, why else track something?” Kristine had no answer. “So they are probably going to get a lesser tracker. You might be able to hide from that, but you will constantly be on the move.” “I can’t keep running.” Though she thought about it and realised there was nothing in her life that really required her to stay in one place. That might have depressed her were she not worried about the things hunting her. “Well, there is a place you can go where they won’t be able to track you.” “Where?” “The Magical Realm. Whoever is after you might waste weeks hunting the Mundane Realm before they figure you ran to the Magical Realm. And you’ll be a lot harder to track in the Magical Realm. Plus, that’s where we can find out who is behind all this, maybe even stop it.” “Maybe even stop it? Maybe?” “You said they mentioned a Duke. Duke’s can be powerful. I’m not about to stick my tail into a mess like that.” “Thankth a lot,” Kristine said, the lisp taking the edge off the sarcasm. “Listen, Gorgeous seems to care about this, and while she is a pain in my most amazing ass, she does know her stuff. So just trust me. Come to the Magical Realm and maybe we get this sorted out to your benefit. And, most importantly, as I will be doing official work there, they will probably reactivate my expense account.” “Why thould I care about your expenthe account?” “I don’t understand the question,” Tac said after a few seconds. Kristine sighed. “Fine, let’th go to the Magical Realm.”
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Yes I do realize Christmas was almost a month ago! This started out as a dream, last night, I awoke and embelished it a bit more! I often do dream in the ABDL realm! St. Nicholas was once again done with Christmas for one more year! "Another one in the books, Mrs. Claus!" Said Santa "Yes where are we going to go vacation for the next few months? We haven't been to Phoenix, Arizona in a while! I kind of feel we need to go there!" Said Mrs. Claus. "Phoenix that does sound wonderful. I was just there last night it was in the mid 40's but compared to other places l felt almost warm!" Santa said. They got things packed and to them the warm sunny days of Phoenix where it was supposed to hit 70. That sounded like a tropical heat wave compared to the -45 it was outside right now. They got their two kids of course there was Nicolas the XXXXIII and Pomp the youngest. They used a smaller sleigh than Santas normal one this was Mrs. Claus's it was pulled by only two Reindeer. Gunther and Gretta. They landed in NorthWest Phoenix. Mrs. Claus said "Last time we were here there was nothing out here! Now there are houses everywhere our little cottage is lost in these houses. Santa and the boys took and hid the sleigh and put Gunther and Gretta in the corral. He got his car out of the garage it had been 14 years since he last started it. Elves maintained the property and they started it about once every 2 weeks. Last time they had been here Mrs. Clause had gotten pregnant with Pomp. His name wasn't really Pomp but as a baby, toddler, child, and now teenager. He had the habit of turning his nose up at everything. He acted Pompous! They started Calling him that Pompous. As he got older that got shortened to Pomp, Every Claus is named Nicholas he was Nicholas the XXXXIV. Santa had a sister named Nicholett XVII every so often one of the females would become Santa. Through the magic of Christmas they become Saint Nicholas He didnt understand how it worked but it did. He married a woman that his mom had rescued from a life of abuse they found her and her dad was selling her as a slave. Unfortunately it wasnt much different than what she had came from. This was only 30 years ago. They find that the Mrs. Claus tend to be more compassionate coming from places like his wife came from. Its funny his mom she got a feeling that she should get up and go to this place! She did and 3 minutes later this guy came and asked her if she wanted to buy his daughter. Mom paid the guy lots more than he asked for. She took her and told her that she was worth every penny she paid. The girl became worth what she paid for her. When your told your worthless your whole life then somebody pays 5 times more than you thought you was worth. You live up to be worth That five times. His wife had. His wife was Chineese. The older Nicholas was sitting out absorbing sunlight, He hated the North Pole it was too cold for him he could feel the cold in his bones. Pomp was watching TV. That night Mrs Claus got the prompt to get in the car and drive south. She drove and saw a light something like the wisemen followed to find The Christ Child. She followed it to South Phoenix. She found a girl looked to be 13 or 14 years old she was laying in the street. Her face was terrible both of her eyes were swollen shut. Blood was coming from her nose her lips were bleeding and swollen. The light rested on her. This was the one she started helping the girl up. "Come child!" She embraced the girl. The girl melted into the embrace. "Hey bitch what chu doin? l aint done kicking the shit out of her yet!" A drunk man slurred! "I do belive you are!" Mrs. Claus said. "What she to ya, she aint nutten but a little bed pisher! Thats what she does best pish her bed." "Is she your daughter?" Asked Mrs. Claus? "Ya could say tat! I married her mutter! And she up n dies leaving me with the bed Pisser! She aint no good lady! What you want her for?" He asked. "You wouldnt understand and believe anyway! What is she worth to you?" "Not a damned red cent!" He said. "How much you want for her?" Asked Mrs Claus? "Lady if your tinking about turning her into a hooker, l told ya she still pees her bed! Nobody would fuck her!" Said the guy. "What, no, thats the farthest thing from my mind eww no! Said Mrs. Claus. I guess l could let her go for three!" The guy said. "Three what cents, dollars, hundred, thousand. What?" Asked Mrs. Claus? "Three grand!" The guy said. He had been thinking hundred. When the lady asked thousand he jumped at it she probably would only give him 3 hundred. "Alright here is 15 thousand!" She handed the guy a wad of hundred dollar bills. Even the girl looked at her like she was crazy. The guy said 'Hey I gota a son I'll throw him in for free!" The girl will be sufficient. Mrs. Claus said. She took the girl put her in the car and started driving north again. "Why?" I'mb not worf 15 thousan dollars!" She said through her swollen lips. "Believe it or not to me you are Maria!" "How do you know my namb?" Maria asked? "Lets just say l know more about you than you know about me, we will leave it at that for now! You wouldnt believe me if I told you!" "Try me?" Said the girl? "Okay, I'm actually quite famous. Ive been played by Angela Lansbury, and just recently 2 movies starring Goldie Hawn, and her husband Kurt Russell played my husband." "Do you guys live in Phoenix?" Maria asked "Just a bit North of there! Mrs. Clause said. Were actually vacationing here in Phoenix!" She said with a smile. They arrived at their cottage and Mrs. Claus. Led Maria in. The doctor was there as were New clothes for Maria. They let her take a hot bath and shampooed her hair to Maria it felt wonderful. She got new clothes and diapers on she was seen by a doctor that was even shorter than her if that was possible. He put something on her eyes and lips and the swelling went down immediately. "There are those beautiful brown eyes again. Your dad was wrong your beautiful! Said Mrs. Claus. "You really think so?" Asked Maria. "I know so! Said Mrs. Clause! As she looked at the beautuful Hispanic girl standing in front of her.
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Law of the Diaper - Episode 2 - Part 1 Meliora Lady Meliora Van De Natte sighed heavily as she relieved herself, urine spiralling down her leg and onto the clay-tiled floor of the hall. She sat at a long table, with many other guests in attendance, including her distant cousin, the King, himself. The floor was sloped in a way that allowed people’s pee to flow into the middle, where they were promptly drained away. Despite this, the floor was still wet, and reflected the gold trim of the high-beamed roof. The chamber was grand, regal, and -- to Meliora at least -- a little over-pompous. And to consider, she thought, that those babies in the north believe us to be barbaric. Meliora didn’t much like the haughty nature of the court, but barbarity? Ha! She scoffed at the very thought of it. The King was in the middle of another one of his showy-speeches, “...for many a year now. To think! Back then we were but insects on the world stage…” and Meliora was getting tired of it. As much as she detested these things however, they were necessary to keep the king satisfied, especially as she needed to talk to him with great urgency. But, the King was in the middle of making himself look good, so she decided to concentrate on her food, it was the only good thing about these feasts anyway. Sitting cosily on her silver platter, was a selection of smoked vegetables, steaming roast potatoes, and slices of Stalle, fried to perfection. Many years ago, so the holy texts said, when humans and non-humans were at war over food, the god Liefyr gifted the peoples of the world the plant Stalle, so they would cease eating eachother. Apparently it had worked, because sat around the table with her, where many a non-human. Not that anyone had ever put much thought into it. The days where tension grew high between species was long gone, relegated to the history books of old. At least here in the south. Court and country were a civilised place now, happy and harmonious. Well, country was, court perhaps not so much. Despite the relative peace in the presence of the king, tensions between individuals still ran high, especially behind his back. Opposite Meliora was Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf with a particularly sly canine-gaze. Like Meliora, he sat stoically, determined not to give anything away to his political enemies. Enemies like Meliora. Just look at him, she thought with a juvenile air of competitiveness, thinking he can beat me at my own game. She broke her stoicism, and her meal, for a brief glare at Aert, but before the wolf could return it, the King concluded his speech. “Thank you! Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience.” the King waved magnanimously. He was kind, and often cared for the people of Plassenar, but unfortunately that came at the cost of any real power. Even now, one Kanniss Blomscheet, a wealthy sugar-merchant who’d been invited, was whispering in the king’s ear. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner however, and she to no one else. Her neighbor, Lady Halene Goudenel, was chatting idly to the man next to her, a lord which Meliora didn’t know. Meliora continued eating, ignoring the two chattering, but halfway through their conversation, Lady Halene lifted her furry rear upwards slightly, and farted noisily. “Ahhhh,” she sighed, “I shall have to go to the mess-hall after this!” Halene waved her hand in front of her nose, looking around. Meliora hoped that the woman wouldn’t notice her, but alas, it was not to be. “Lady Van De Natte! I didn’t see you there!” she said, her talking companion going pale upon seeing who Halene was attempting to talk to. Halfway through a bite of food, Meliora made an attempt at saying ‘hello.’ It came out as more of a stuffed mumble. “Hello to you too! Wonderfully diverse platter today, wouldn’t you say?” Halene continued, determined to push through the awkwardness. She twirled her hair around one of her antlers aimlessly, waiting for a response. Meliora eventually gave in, swallowing her food indelicately. “Yes, I suppose so.” Unfortunately, it seemed that Halene took that as cause to persevere, because just as Meliora was about to resume her meal, the woman conversed again. “I take it you wish to see His Majesty after we have concluded.” It was a statement, not a question. For some reason Meliora felt a child crawl through her. Suddenly she was on edge, and she felt another trickle of warm urine down her bare leg. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner. No one. Did she want something? Meliora realised that she had been quiet too long. “Yes, my Lady. I do. Is there something you wish to ask?” “Oh, no. Actually, I was hoping to speak to you afterwards. However, I understand that you’re busy.” Halene said. Meliora wasn’t sure how to respond. She rarely spoke to Lady Goudenel, her being on the High Council for only a few months. Meliora hadn’t gotten a good read on the woman yet, she was still somewhat of an enigma, and that scared her. It was a strange feeling -- Meliora couldn’t remember the last time she had been scared. Should she accept? This would be a good opportunity to understand the woman a little better. Maybe Meliora would gain some information on one of the other council members. It was a tempting prospect. “Unfortunately not tonight,” Meliora said eventually, “but --” “It isn’t at all urgent,” interrupted Halene, waving her arm toward the table. “When are you next available?” “It may not be for some time. If all goes well I aim to be out of the country for a week or two.” “Well, that just happens to be the subject I wished to bring up.” Halene asked with the dimmest flicker of a smile. Despite herself, Meliora smiled back. “I should have room for tomorrow afternoon, if that will suffice.” “Wonderful!” the woman said with an excited nod, complimented with a wide grin, “I look forward too--” Ffffttttt. The odorus noise spilled out from her seat. “Oh dear. This food really has got the better of me. I do hope this all finishes soon, or I may have to relieve myself here!” Halene giggled at her little joke, and returned to her dinner leaving Meliora to ponder what she had gotten herself into. By the time everyone had finished, the King was ready to retire. He bowed, waved his hand, and excused guests, some of which tried to hound him. Meliora would have to get in quick. Thankfully, some of the people going after His Majesty, were some of her own. Magist Gaerdt and his young apprentice, a feline girl in her twenties, were trying to push past the guards. Knowing that they’d never get past, they were instead preventing the King from leaving quickly enough so that Meliora could catch a word. Fortunately, Meliora was very much respected by the guards, and they let her pass with no small amount of reverence. She had to admit, she liked the effect it had -- as if the oceans were parting for her. It made her feel strong and powerful. “Your Majesty, if I could only-” Gaerdt croaked, before Meliora glided past. “Your Majesty!” she said, bowing gracefully. She wouldn’t have much time to convince him, only a sentence or two. This would have to be done carefully. “May I have a word? It is of the utmost importance.” The King stopped in his tracks, lowering his head respectfully. “Lady Meliora, I’m sure you have much to say, but can this wait? It is late and I-” “Well …” Meliora countered, “I was going to ask about next week’s summit. I would very much like to ask you some questions, run some ideas past you. After all, most of the men here are on the wizened side of wise. You have a much more contemporary view of politics.” Long ago, Meliora realised that to survive court politics, you had to be brutal. You had to systematically hunt down your enemy’s weaknesses, and exploit them ruthlessly. The King liked clever words, or at least words that sounded clever to him, and a little stroke of his ego wouldn’t hurt either. Merchants were good at that, hence their power in his court. Luckily so was Meliora. Clearly it had worked, because the King seemed to be considering her proposition. “Oh, all right. But we shall have to talk in the mess-room, I’m getting rather desperate.” The King finally conceded. “Gaerdt,” said Meliora, turning to her Magist, “Please wait for me in my quarters, we have much to discuss afterwards.” “Yes, Lady.” he replied, and he and his apprentice bowed. “Come Narriss, we still have to find that book.” and with that, the aging man hobbled away, the young feline apprentice helping. Meliora and the King were escorted to the mess room, the King dribbling pee behind him as he walked. Usually, due to the sterile nature of urine, one could relieve themselves wherever they wished. Excrement, however, was not so sanitary. Peasants usually messed themselves as they toiled, using it as fertiliser for their fields. Here in the city however, designated mess-halls, or in the King’s case a private mess-room, was where people went number two. The room was somewhat large, big enough for multiple people. At the far end were two windows and a small balcony, bordered by the Plassen flags -- brown fabric, with white and golden waves. The King often held meetings here, so there was seating, golden chairs with silk cushions. The floor was the same clay tiles of the dining hall, each bearing the royal standard. Meliora made a move towards a chair opposite the King, who upon entering immediately pulled his pants down, starting to fidget. Meliora herself was wearing a dress, much preferred when desperate. Watching as the King leant over his seat, pushing, Meliora thought of what she was going to say, how she would approach this. It was important, and the King needed to understand what was at stake here. “Gggggrrrrrggg” he groaned, pushing out two long logs of poop. They snaked out of him, and coiled around each other neatly onto the stained cushion below. What am I going to say? What would convince a man to go to war? “Ahhhhhh …” sighed the King in relief, a few loose farts escaping. He sat back down on top of his mess, pushing it into the cushions with an audible squelch. Then, just as Meliora got an idea of how to approach the topic, he wriggled his bottom, pushing the poop around. Prince or peasant, it didn’t matter -- squishing was one of the few feelings that everyone enjoyed, Meliora included. A spike of envy even shot through her momentarily, annoyed that she didn’t have to relieve herself, but she quickly regained focus. “Right then, Lady Meliora. What do you want to know?” “Well Your Majesty, first and foremost, do you have any ideas about approaching the treaty?” she asked. The King looked slightly taken aback at that, and Meliora had to force her face to keep straight. “Whatever do you mean, Lady? I was under the impression that they had already agreed to sign it?” “Well yes, they did imply that.” Meliora said, steering the King into the position she wanted. “But we know the North cannot be trusted with matters as serious as this. They are frivolous and fickle, thinking only about their play and not their work. You don’t really expect them to be that consistent do you?” Meliora didn’t really lie. It was cause for concern. These northerners knew nothing of hard work and labor, many lived in luxury, playing all day. “I had assumed--” “With the utmost respect your Majesty, that is exactly it. You assumed.” “You didn’t come here to ask me for help did you?” He looked like a child being told off. Perhaps he was ashamed that he had been so naive. Meliora almost felt bad. But he needed to know. He needed to understand. Meliora respected the man’s kindness too much to lie about something like this. “My King, if I may speak frankly?” she waited for him to nod his head, and then continued, “I don’t believe any good can come of this summit. The people of Luin … they’re not like us. They won’t sign this treaty, there’s too much that they gain from war.” “What could they possibly gain from war?” the King asked, leaning forward. “Weapons sales, unity through common enemy, certainty in a changing world.” Meliora sighed, it was a harsh truth that war was so simple. Contracts, treaties, negotiations, why bother when you could just engage in conflict? There was a deep silence between the two. The King had his face in his hands, thinking. Meliora had to tell herself that she was doing the right thing. Of course she was. The King only wished his people had the same luxury that the Luiners had -- he could be a great King, truly great, if tempered by the ruthlessness of his aides. Why was it so hard to watch this man accept that war was inevitable. Was she as ruthless as she thought? “Meliora,” the King said suddenly, raising his head from his hands, “I hear what you are saying. I really do. You don’t trust Luin, and you want to strike before they have the chance to lure us into a false sense of security.” “Yes. Yes, Your Majesty, that is precisely it--” but before she could continue the King interrupted. “I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a prince, my father took me to the front line. The regalia and glory of war was appealing to a child, and I went with glee. But when I arrived it was nothing like I thought. The place stank of death, of decay. There were bodies lined up in the streets of camp, sometimes in piles. It -- I still have nightmares. But I had never thought more clearly than in that moment. I bent down to one of the bodies, and …” the King stopped. He seemed distant, as if scared to go back there, to that place. Meliora hadn’t seen him like this before. “... And I bent down to say my prayers to one of the fallen. It was a boy, Meliora. A boy of twelve years old! I can’t remember what caused his death, only that his face was death itself. His eyes were empty. His soul, gone. Imagine what was taken from the world. Imagine the potential that boy might’ve had. All gone in an instant.” He stopped for a moment, his eyes slowly coming back into the room. Meliora was transfixed, “Lady Van De Natte, the other side may be very different from us, but I can guarantee their children have died too. Lives on both sides have died for a war they didn’t start. If they have a shred of humanity, and suspect they have more than a shred, then believe me when I say, they want to end this war as much as you or I.” The King was looking at Meliora now, directly into her soul. His deep, brown eyes yearning for peace, yearning for an end to this petty conflict. The ripple of doubt in Meliora’s mind had transformed. Great waves of torment, battered by a storm of guilt and shame, crashed and bellowed within her. They twisted her stomach, tugged violently at her chest. Could she be ruthless? I have to be. She had to be ruthless for the good of the realm. There was a long, final pause before Meliora spoke. She sighed heavily. “What do you want me to do, Your Majesty?” Narriss Narriss hadn’t seen anything like it before. The port in which the ship was docking was packed full of people. They brushed past each other, all heading to one place or another, like an ant colony. Even the capital hadn’t been this busy, or if it ever had, Narriss had been busy working with master Gaerdt. The gentle slosh of the ocean lapping against the boat, had been replaced by shouting, chattering, and a loud constantly-ringing bell. But what shocked her the most was what people were wearing. Some, like her, wore tunics and pants, robes and cloaks. But some wore onesies, sucked pacifiers nonchalantly, and underneath it all were the unmistakable bulges of diapers. In spite of this, the air smelt familiar. Sea salt and urine mixed in the air across the harbor, floating across the ocean beyond. Narriss’ closed her eyes. The wind blew gently through her fur, her tail swayed gently behind her, and her ears relaxed by her sides. She inhaled deeply, taking in the atmosphere of the place, and a strange peace came over her. A gentle, laminar peace. “Narriss.” A sharp voice from behind her said. She turned quickly, seeing Master Gaerdt standing there. “Come, we have business with Lady Meliora.” Narriss nodded, and followed her teacher down into the ship’s cabins. They had been travelling here, to the Isle of Ieder, for three days now, and she was getting sick of being bunged up in a tiny cabin with Master Gaerdt. She had complained out loud initially, which had been a mistake. “It gives you plenty of time to focus on your studies instead of napping then.” Master Gaerdt had said, never glancing away from his work. Though she swore she could hear a smile in his voice. Lady Meliora’s chambers were nowhere near as cramped as everyone else’s. As they entered, Narriss saw the familiar sloped floor, with a tile pattern running from under Meliora’s desk. It was glistening wet. The tile pattern continued past the centre of the room and rose again like the edge of a bowl, stopping under a plush-fabric seat. Lady Meliora herself sat at an ornate desk, silhouetted a little by grand windows behind her. Why don’t we have any windows like that? Narriss asked herself as she stood behind her teacher. Meliora scribbled something on a piece of fresh paper, before glancing up to Narriss and Master Gaerdt. She gestured for them both to sit. “Master Gaerdt,” she said, nodding to Narriss’ left, “Apprentice Narriss,” she nodded to Narriss, “Thank you for attending me here.” That was odd. Meliora barely seemed to notice Narriss normally, let alone speak to her. This was all strange. Something was about to happen, Lady Melliora wanted something from Narriss, but what could she possibly offer? She was just an assistant, an apprentice. A flash of dread struck through her. The Lady looked uncomfortable sitting at her desk, almost fidgety. She was never normally like this at all. What was going on? Meliora cleared her throat before continuing where she left off. “As you are both aware, we have a very important mission here on Iedar. To go over our aim again, Master Gaerdt, we want to establish relations to aid the signing of the North-South Disarmament Treaty, as requested by …. nnng … the King.” Meliora looked wholly uncomfortable after she said that, jostling in her seat. It was well known to the servants of Meliora, Narriss included, that the woman thought the war was still a necessary fight. Narriss had to agree. Unlike here in the south, Luin and the Dullen Isles (especially the former) were hostile to her kind. Plassenar was fighting for freedom -- freedom to relieve yourself where you wanted without punishment, freedom to be chaotic, and freedom to be different. If that meant tearing down their broken culture to achieve this freedom, so be it. “Now that all the official stuff is out the way,” Meliora continued, “I need to ask you two a favor. This stays absolutely confidential, do you understand?” she looked directly at Narriss as she said it, and without hesitating, Narriss nodded back. She wasn’t sure she liked the Lady, but the woman’s cause was just. “I cannot … nnn … I cannot believe I’m about to say this --” Lady Meliora went quiet suddenly, and began to wriggle more noticeably. She slid her rear across the velvet cushion of her seat. Narriss looked to Master Gaerdt, who only blinked in surprise. Meliora put a hand between her legs, and suddenly Narriss realised what was happening. As if she needed any more confirmation, Meliora quickly gave up, and took her hand away, said “Oh, blast!” rather more audibly than Narriss suspected the lady intended, and leant back in her chair. Less than a second later, she sighed as urine gushed out from under the table, hissing through Lady Meliora’s dress. Even from the other side of the table, Narriss could see a dark patch spreading on her clothes, as familiar as the blue sky. “Mmmmmmmaahhhh!” Meliora’s shoulders lowered and despite her usually reserved demeanor, a tiny smile flickered onto her face as she peed. She quickly finished and, evidently self conscious all of a sudden, straightened her dress before plastering on a calmer expression that contrasted oddly with her now scarlet cheeks. Silence punctured the room, and Narriss couldn’t help but look to master Gaerdt. However, he patently ignored her, focused on the Lady. “My Lady! Were you … were you holding that in!?” he said, visibly shocked at what he’d just witnessed. As if in defiance of what had happened, Narriss’ master let his own water escape, flooding his robe. Small rivers of urine, from both Meliora and Gaerdt, flowed into the centre of the room and were swallowed by the drain leading to the wooden cistern below. Meliora grew softly stern, straightening in her seat. “Not a word to anyone else on this ship at what you just witnessed, is that understood?” As shocked as she was, Narriss was the first to nod. She was used to taking orders, from Meliora, from Gaerdt, from any of her many superiors. But somehow Meliora didn’t feel so high and mighty anymore. Something about what had just happened made the woman less imposing, less regal. It was like a cloud had blotted the sun. Everything was still in the same place, but a certain luster had vanished. Narriss noticed Meliora looking at her, and she snapped her face back to impassiveness. Did the Lady notice? Eventually, Gaerdt followed with his nod of submission to the Lady, but Meliora just sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry you two had to see that.” she said somewhat sullenly, “These people, the summit, they expect certain behaviors from us, just as we do them. The deal was that they would be prohibited from going over-the-top with their regalia just as we do ours, to avoid offence. Part of that is … we are to relieve ourselves away from their notice during the meetings. I was practicing, here, now, and clearly I could not handle it.” “What restrictions have been placed upon them, my Lady?” Gaerdt looked to Narriss, appalled that his apprentice was talking without permission, but she couldn’t help herself. All this had gotten her riled up. Why should Plassenar have to bend to the will of another nation, just to sign some stupid treaty? Why should Plassenar suffer? However, Lady Meliora didn’t seem to mind. “That is a good question, Apprentice. In exchange for us being subtle about our culture they have agreed to hold back on their pompous clothes, and ... let ambassadors from different species into the meeting.” Narriss’ head boiled with indignation. Under the table, away from the view of the Lady, she clenched her fists, hard. Her hairs pricked up in defense, and she felt her face grow taught, struggling not to grind her teeth. Meliora was going through all this trouble to appease these people, when they should just treat everyone as equals. More and more, Narriss was growing angry at this whole twisted situation. The king, our king, wants to make peace with them? Meliora seemed to sense her utter frustration at the situation, and leaned forward. “I understand that this is hard Narriss --” “I’m sorry but you don’t understand at all.” Narriss snapped, half thinking. Gaerdt’s bemused face melted into anger at his apprentices’ impulsivness. But Narriss didn’t care. She was angry, and had the right to be so. However, Master Gaerdt had been teaching her to control that anger, focus it. “Apologies, my Lady, I shouldn’t have said that.” Narriss expected Meliora to be annoyed just as her master was, but the woman was strangely resigned about the whole thing. “No, it’s fine,” Meliora said, waving it away, “You are right. I don’t understand. This is why I have chosen you for the task. I know I can trust you, you’ve been with master Gaerdt here as long as any of my other staff, and your rank means you are in a prime position to understand both court and country in a way my friends simply cannot. But, more than all that, you are one of the people that Luin is trying to restrict. Your eyes, in that regard, see differently to mine. I grew up in a castle, in a place of privilege and luxury. I need to see what you see if I am to win this meeting.” “I’m sorry my Lady,” Gaerdt said, “Win?” “Quite, magister Gaerdt. No one wants peace, so even a small concession towards that aim will be a victory. But we need to focus. We need to practice. We need to keep calm.” Meliora said with the slightest hint of flourish in her voice. She was right. This was all too important to let anger take it all away. That’s what they wanted. Narriss breathed in deeply, centering herself. The anger within her, that raging storm, spiralled in her chest. Slowly, carefully, she pushed upwards into her head. She drew power from it, cunning, and perception. Eventually, it was no longer anger, but a vague pool of energy. Narriss felt as if she could draw from it, take whatever she needed. Her stomach cramped slightly as she contemplated it, feeling something brewing within. But before she could put much thought into that, Meliora spoke up a final time. “What I need from you Narriss, desperately, is reconnaissance. I need as much information as I can get -- ideally what the very heart of their culture is. What I need is to see where they eat, change, and what they do when they’re not at these meetings. But even then I fear that I am still not prepared. I’ll be honest, I wish I could send Gaerdt but ... ” Lady Meliora looked down at the wet patch on her clothes. For the first time, Narriss saw fear on her mistress’ face. “This little demonstration shows our weakness. We need to hide it. We need to be discreet. Gods forbid it should come to this, but what I need is a diaper.” Narriss Waygar, the capital of Iedar, smelt of crap. Literal crap. This was a very strange place, chaotic and bewildering, far more so than even the capital city. Because it was a sort of neutral zone between Luin and Plassenar, both peoples went about their own rituals without regard for the other. Some, few, relieved themselves in the street, where they stood, not bothering to consider those around them. Just like home, Narris thought. But others wore gaudy clothes, onesies with bright patterns on them, frilly dresses, and sucked on pacifiers. They kept their business, and smells, hidden in the seat of their pants. Even here, closest to the Plassen crossing, these were in the vast majority. A group of Littles were huddled together just down the street ahead, one leaning against a stone wall. They were whispering conspiratorially to each other, one glancing over their shoulder. Narriss didn’t get a good look at their expression whilst she hurried past however. As she approached, a tall woman in normal clothes burst out of the wooden door next to them and ushered the group of littles indoors. Although she looked almost normal in that long green dress, Narriss could see the obvious bulge of a diaper underneath. The woman spun around to close the door, and a flicker of fear shadowed her face momentarily, before she fled inside. Narriss bowed her head to the ground, feeling her face boil, and her stomach growl. How was she supposed to actually find out about their culture if they did this? After wandering about for an hour or so, Narriss didn’t have much luck finding anyone who wanted to converse. It was difficult identifying any Plassener’s to talk to here. Besides being so very few of them, any she managed to approach seemed to scarper away, warily. She’d even tried going up to the guards, but they’d just growled and skulked away as well. This was all taking too long, the meeting was only in a couple of hours and she still had no information. ‘Plan B’ was the merchants. Not quite the everyday person that Narriss was hoping to find, but maybe it would work. Surely they wouldn’t pass down a customer? At the very least she could find somewhere to acquire a diaper. She’d been putting it off, though she didn’t quite know why. All this was so odd--the way the Luiners just waddled brazenly about in their baby-clothes, locked away under layers of padding. After a brief wander through the mud-laden alleys of the town, Narriss managed to find a small market selling a vast collection of things. One was selling books from an open-air stall nearby. Maybe he would be able to help. He was talking with someone else, a large woman with somewhat shaggy hair. She didn’t look much like a Little, so Narriss assumed she was a Big, the people who cared for the freaks that dressed up. As Narriss approached the stall, the woman glanced behind. Her conversation with the shopkeep died down to hushed whispers and, reflexifley, Narriss’ ears pricked up. Naturally, they were much stronger than human ears, and picked up the conversation without much hassle. “I hear they’re planning on invading, by migrating into Luin!” the woman said. The man simply nodded solemnly as if it was a sad truth to be accepted, like death or paying taxes. The man’s face scrunched up and he grunted quietly. At first Narriss assumed it was the topic of conversation that had caused such a reaction. But then she remembered the diapers. “Yeah, as if we don’t let them close enough already. That new deal’s supposed to make it easier for them to get in, y'know. I --” the man cut off as he caught Narriss’ eye. “No no, please keep talking!” Narriss said loudly. The large woman startled and clasped her chest with her hand. Narriss realised her face had gone tense. She tried to relax and calm herself but… “Speak demon and it shall appear.” the shopkeep said, glaring toward Narriss with the sadistically sly grin usually only seen in Wolf-kin. Then again, what did she expect from the people who invaded her home? “Demon?! Where?!” Narriss said, bathing in exaggerated, mock fear. This man would not get the best of her. He would give her all the information she needed, or at least point her in the right direction to find it. The woman glanced down at Narriss’ waist, made a disgusted face, and nodded goodbye to the shopkeep. Perhaps she’d noticed Narriss’ tail, or worse, her lack of diaper-bulge. Either way, she and the shopkeep were now alone. “It’s considered rude ‘round here to listen in on other people’s conversations y’know.” he said, almost growling with tension. Yet they consider us animals!? Narriss mused to herself. This place was horrible. Backwards. “It’s also rude to refuse paying customers.” she said to the shopkeep. Hopefully the promise of money would quell his anger somewhat. However, it seemed that she’d underestimated this man’s discontent. “I don’t want your grubby hands anywhere near me!” he said passionately, as if Plassener’s were known for being particularly dirty. Yet, they weren’t the ones who carried their waste against their backsides. Narriss raised her spotless hands in response. “My hands are clean as clouds,” she said, “And luckily for you I just need information. So I won’t be parting with any of my money today, sir.” The man eyed her for a moment. He seemed placated, if only slightly. “I don’t know ‘nuffin!” he said, crossing his arms. “Just go someplace else!” Narriss was starting to get annoyed now. This man was being deliberately stubborn, and for what? Maybe it was time for a retreat. If she couldn’t get the information she needed, at least she could get the diaper for Lady Meliora. “I just need to know where I can find a changing station.” there was a brief moment of silence. The shopkeeper's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised why he was asked such a question by the likes of … well, her. “Is that some kind of joke? Why in the name of Liefyr does a shaggy like you want to know that?” he shook his head in disbelief. Narriss’ ears went hot. She hadn’t been called that word in a very long time. This slimy son of a bitch was clearly too stuck in his little mud-hovel to say anything productive to her. She was done here. Letting out a deep breath, Narriss turned and walked away. She’d find the godsdamned place by herself. Behind, she heard the man chuckle quietly. Willing herself not to turn and punch him, Narriss focused on her mission. However, the shopkeep made the mistake of thinking he had gained something in that little argument, and shouted across the market. “Yeah! Go back to your shithole in Plassen you hairy bitch!” That does it. Narriss felt a storm surge inside of her, and a sudden cramp in her gut. If the bastard wanted to be closed minded, so be it. He deserved everything he was about to get. She walked back toward the merchant, who went suddenly pale. Clearly he was expecting her to walk away. Maybe she should have. Oh well, Narriss thought, hopefully he’ll remember this. “Fine. You win.” Narriss said calmly, which only served to unease the man further. “If you won’t take a moment out of your day to help me find somewhere, then I guess I have no choice but to do my business here.” and she hiked up her dress. The man looked horrified, and stepped back into the recesses of his book-stall-cave. Narriss simply smiled, and bent over the wooden counter of the stall, so her bare rear was nearly touching the wooden countertop. Her tail swished behind her, brushing against the cool air. Then, grunting a little, she began to push, slowly releasing pressure in her bowel. To her slight embarrassment, she farted a few times, but that was nothing compared to what was coming. As she pushed, she felt a rather large ball of poop force it’s way out of her, sliding through, pinching off, and then slapping down onto the counter. She let out a few more farts, feeling much better now that her gut was empty. Her mess balled beneath her, forming a rather satisfying warm, and stinking, pile. Narriss looked to the merchant again, grinning slyly. His face had gone red, and he looked as if he was leaning against the wall for support. Narriss glanced about quickly, and noticed that there was a small crowd watching the incident. Although most Little onlookers looked horrified, a small group to the left sniggered at the merchant. A huddle of Plasseners also gathered nearby, smirking to themselves. “Thank you very much for your help,” Narriss said as innocently as she could muster, “I was beginning to get a little desperate.” and as a final act of spite, she pulled her dress down, and fell back to sit in her mess. It squashed beneath her, moulding to the shape of her rear. She wriggled about for a moment, before pulling herself up with a very visible brown stain on the seat of her dress. After all, why shouldn’t she wear it proudly? She made her way into the crowd, toward some of the watching Plasseners. They grinned knowingly at her as she approached. Finally, people who seemed willing to talk. She’d finally find out what was up with this place, which would be a solid start. How she was going to find diapers for Lady Meliora from these Plassen folk she did not know, but one step at a time. There was a chance the Lady wouldn’t even need a diaper if she managed to get the right information. As she approached the Plasseners, their smiles faded however. Narriss noticed they were looking at something behind her. A cold human hand suddenly gripped her left arm tightly, pressing against the fur. “Miss,” a woman’s voice, hard and harsh, said from behind, “Please, come with us.” Narriss tried to turn without jerking her arm too much. The woman was a guard, wearing the white-red colours of Iedar, but Narriss could tell she was a little. The guard’s hair was tied in pig-tails, and she could swear the woman had a diaper-bulge. “No! You don’t understand! I have important business here, under the command of Lady Meliora Van De Natte, of Plassenar!” and she tugged her arm away, but the guard who was holding her back simply grappled the other one. “I’m sure you are Miss, but we can’t just let people go poo poo on private property!” Narriss went quiet. Maybe she should have thought this through more. Damn! “Okay, okay, I’ll go with you. Let’s just make this quick.” “You’re not going to run if I let you go?” the guard said, and Narriss felt her tail droop instinctively. She wasn’t sure she could if she tried. “There are guards everywhere,” Narriss said, “I doubt I would get very far.” This seemed to placate the guard and she let go. Two more joined her and the whole retinue marched Narriss away. About two hours later, judging by the church bells, Narriss sat in her small cell, alone. The guards had brought her back to a modest gaol on the outskirts of Waygar. Almost immediately upon arrival, the guards had insisted on diapering her. Her hairs pricked up harshly even thinking about it. Despite how wrong it felt to have this bulky padding around her waist, she’d gone along with it in the interest of saving as much time as possible. It wasn’t all that embarrassing really, not after having dropped a mess in public. But it just felt so strange. How did people defecate in this? She felt a nervous twitch in her bladder at the thought. Afterwards, Narriss was able to present the guards with a royal seal that Meliora had given her, and someone, a while ago now, had gone to fetch anyone who could get her out of here. So, Narriss sat in her cell, left leg bouncing up and down erratically, albeit hampered slightly by the diaper now under her dress. The summit would start any moment, and she was here! She tried not to dwell on that too much. What have I gotten myself into? She thought glumly. What would the consequences be? Lady Meliora said that she had to behave with courtesy--well what if she needed to relieve herself during the meeting? Would the negotiations fall apart? Back in Plassenar, you’d just ... go. I suppose you’d do the same here, too. Just in a diaper instead of on your seat. Something about that felt dishonest and wrong. Pulling up her dress slightly, Narriss looked down at the diaper. She kind of needed to pee again, though the thought of doing it in that thing was mortifying. It surrounded her waist completely, locking away the freedom to go where you needed, trapping the mess next to you. Again, the thought of using the thing made her slightly disgusted. Although, she had to admit, it did feel quite nice when dry. Like a pillow, almost. Hesitantly, more out of curiosity than anything else, she poked the fluffy fabric. The diaper was so thick she could barely feel her finger beneath the padding. She poked it again -- THUD. The door to the gaol burst open, and a vaguely familiar woman stepped onto the stone-tiled flooring--that woman Lady Meliora was talking to at the feast. Her antlers sparkled gently with the fresh mist outside, and her nose twitched slightly. Her dress was almost as regal as her strides towards Narriss’ cell. “Well, well, well,” she said, moving towards the iron bars that held Narriss there. “We have gotten ourselves into a bit of a mess haven’t we?” “My lady!” Narriss said quickly, curtseying. Halfway through her bow, she realised that lifting her dress to curtsey would reveal her diaper. She felt her cheeks grow warm with blush as she saw a wry smile on the lady’s face. “Delved into the local culture have we?” “I-I-” Narriss couldn’t think of anything to say. To be caught like this! Embarrassment flushed through her. “It’s alright, young one.” the woman said, “I am Lady Halene Goudenel, I was sent by Lady Van De Natte.” her smile shifted, wry became warm. Narriss felt her embarrassment subside, albeit only slightly. “Guard!” she said loudly, and there was a clatter from the back-room as a onesie-clad guard stumbled in. “Please let my friend here out of her cell. I shall be taking her with me!” “I’m afraid I’ll need to see some--” before the guard could talk, Lady Halene thrust a piece of paper towards them--a writ of some sort. “Huet!” the guard shouted, and a second guard, presumably called Huet, emerged from the back. Unlike the first, he was not dressed in a onesie, rather somewhat normal clothing. He took the paper of the first guard, scanned it briefly and nodded. And just like that, Narriss was free. “Hurry my dear,” Halene said as Huet guard unlocked the door. Finally, Narriss went down to remove the cloth diaper from around her waist. Oddly, Halene stopped her. “No time, we must be on our way. The summit has already begun.” a jolt of fear burst through Narriss like lightning. She had let Meliora down. She’d let her country down. The two of them left the gaol. “Is the Lady okay?” Narriss asked. She and Halene moved quickly through the market outdoors, people from all directions rushing past. It was tricky walking with the thick padding between Narriss’ legs, so she mostly waddled along as best as she could. “She is fine Narriss. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner. She is glad to hear you are okay, but wasn’t best pleased when she found out what happened.” Narriss went quiet. So much for being discreet. Halene clearly noticed her contemplative silence. “It’s all right. She’s just a little stressed at the moment. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Narriss could only nod. “At least tell me,” Narriss eventually said, “Is the summit going well?” Meliora The summit had been going horribly. The representative of Luin hadn’t been budging on any of his points and, as expected, his implied acceptance of the treaty had been less than concrete. His sense of grandeur and power was seemingly only bolstered by the large pavilion under which they all sat, each politician perched like vultures along a large stone table. They were all dressed rather conservatively, not a single sign of the usual regalia that accompanied them-- bright colours, pacifiers, that sort of stuff. Only the occasional rustle of a diaper indicated that they were, in point of fact, from Luin. Surrounding Meliora were a team of Lords and experts from Plassenar. In particular, her Aide–Lord Griet–sat to her left, and Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf-lord, to her right. They were the pain with which she would colour her canvas. Meliora had sent her Wizard’s apprentice, Narriss, away to gather information to use against the Plasseners here, but she unfortunately had failed to make any sort of appearance. Then, after finding out that the idiot girl had been imprisoned, Meliora was forced to send Halene away to get her out, and even she had been taking her time. It had been over an hour now. Dammit, why was Meliora always clearing up other people’s messes! The talks had stalled since, but she forged ahead, at the behest of her king. She’d resorted to placing valuable resources up for trade, and what’s worse, there was also another, more personal, problem that was preventing her from concentrating fully on the remainder of this damned meeting. Meliora wiggled slightly in her seat, holding her pee in as best she could. That damned girl hadn’t brought back a diaper either. She’d just about managed to relieve herself elsewhere, along with her retinue during the brief recess they’d had, but hadn’t found the opportunity to go since. Just as she suspected, this visible weakness had opened them up to political attack. You’ll just have to hold it, she thought to herself, though rather more aggressively than she had meant to. Although she suspected that this meeting would be over shortly. “Lady Meliora!” The man opposite her–Lord Vauque De La Seule Couche, the cousin of the Queen of Luin–said with immense exasperation, “Surely you cannot be suggesting that we just remove our troops from Ile De Sommeil! You’d simply move troops in to displace them!” The man was, at this particular summit at least, not the bane of Meliora’s existence. That award belonged to the other Lords and Ladies gathered around the great stone table. Despite Vauque’s relative willingness to negotiate, she was still having troubles however. Unlike the other lords in Plassenar, she did not know the Luin people and their secrets. She clenched her fists, and her thighs, under the table in an increasingly vain attempt at keeping some semblance of composure. But before Meliora could respond, Lord Aert spoke–his pointed ears perked up, “Lord Vauque. We have all seen far too much bloodshed in the past few years to send troops into a foreign land where they will have no means of escape. No one wants a war.” Yes! Meliora may have ‘locked horns’, so to speak, back in Plassenar, but here that sharp mind could be put to good use. She knew bringing him was a good idea. Meliora nodded, and continued, “Ile De Sommeil, much like this beautiful island here,” and Meliora tore her hands away from holding herself to gesture to the landscape around them, “Could flourish with trade between our two great nations. You have our word, my word, any troops we do send will integrate into a mixed set of guards for the island with your own troops. In return we ask only that your troops do the same, and we shall be open to trading in coal, iron and gold from our prosperous mines down in Modemeer.” This seemed to give Vauque pause for thought. There was a moment of quiet while he stared past Meliora, interrupted only by the gentle grunts of another lord beside him, who was obviously filling his diaper. Oh how she wished she could let herself go like that! As much as Meliora tried to distract herself with thoughts of the meeting, the fresh earthen-stink that floated through the air only served to remind her of her own relief, or lack thereof. She pressed both of her hands into her lap as subtly as she could, but caught Lord Aert in the right corner of her vision, glancing concernedly at her, his tail stiff, and hairs raised. Clearly he was in need of relief as well. Please hurry, she thought. Vauque looked down, smiling gently, and Meliora’s heart leapt. He sighed, and, to every Plassen Lord’s surprise, slowly began nodding. She met his eyes eagerly. “I am open to these terms,” he said. Yes! “But we still have things to work out. I must talk with my superiors, and you with yours.” Meliora smiled broadly. This had worked out well. Not as well as she had been hoping for, but well enough. It was a solid start. “I couldn’t agree more, though I think you’ll find the King very enthusiastic about this deal!” Meliora said. Though Vauque didn’t quite have the reaction she expected -- he almost chuckled to himself. “I must admit, I do find myself wanting to trust you, Lady Meliora. However, I also find that my trust is a little more cautious for your King, who seems more content making deals with sugar-merchants, than running your kingdom himself.” Vauque said. Meliora’s smile vanished. Perhaps she should have tried to contain her shock, but her need to pee was taking up that space inside of her instead. “How did -- how did you find out about that?” she said. Vauque opened his mouth to say something, but before he could a messenger boy waddled up behind him, and whispered something in his ear. His eyes went wide momentarily, and he gestured for the boy to leave before standing up. The lords and ladies from his side of the table all followed suit. Meliora still sat, half out of shock, and half because she wasn’t sure she could stand without wetting herself. The other members of her side glanced expectantly. “Lady Meliora,” Vauque said sympathetically, “I would stand if I were you.” Meliora frowned. What was this? Still confused, Meliora stood as carefully as she could. It was just in time too, because as she tried to scrape together what little composure she had left, two young men, each dressed in colourful blue uniforms, strode onto the pavilion with trumpets in hand. Meliora was beginning to shake, both mentally and physically. All of this was so confusing. Was it planned by Lord Vauque in an attempt to intimidate? Maybe he knows about my bladder situation, she thought tensley, and he’s stalling for time. Her cheeks began to burn red as she felt all the tables’ eyes on her. Meliora attempted to move them to her side, feigning composure. She was attracting glances from all around now. Hopefully this wouldn’t last long whatever it was, though Meliora had to admit, she had a bad feeling about all this. The trumpeters raised their instruments and rumbled through a regal tune. Then a third figure, this one wearing a bright, frilly yellow dress, short enough that it barely came halfway over their diaper, stood at the entrance to the pavilion as the trumpeters left. “Ladies and gentlemen,” they said to the row of Plasseners, some of whom were beginning to squirm a little, “Boys and girls,” and they looked to the opposite side of the table -- to Vauque and the other officials from Luin and Dullen, “And representatives of the land, I duly present her Royal Highness Queen Amée De La Seule Couche of Luin, Keeper of the Seven Swords, Guardian of the First Crib, and Herald of the Winds of Puer.” Shit. After that mouthful, and a minor moment of private panic on Meliora’s behalf, the announcer bowed and backed up, before parting to the left of the entry. And then, the Queen of Luin herself entered. Flanked by two guards in the same uniform as the trumpeters, a woman in her mid twenties flowed into the room. And flowed was the right word to describe the sight. Although she seemed to radiate a pompous regality in that massively oversized frilly tutu, and despite her waddle at the blatantly thick diaper that coddled her (in fact, it looked thicker than almost any other Meliora had seen), she was still as graceful and gentle as the wind itself, as if she had been born a particularly beautiful peacock. For a brief, blissful moment, Meliora forgot about her need to urinate, and followed the table’s awed bowing and curtseying. This may have been a mistake. As soon as she attempted to lower herself into a curtsey, she felt her bladder pang, and released the tight grip of her urine in surprise. A tiny dribble spat out, and warmly twisted down her leg, before she managed to regain control. As a small wooden throne was brought up behind her, the Queen nodded regally and they all sat. It was slightly easier to maintain control like this, and upon sitting, her hands were able to snap back to hold her crotch. She began to wiggle slightly in her seat. To her left, she could swear she heard a small fart from Lord Griet, Meliora’s aide. However, no one else seemed to be paying attention to that, their energy instead focused on the Queen. “So, it seems I am in the graces of some of the finest political minds in the land!” she said, puffing up her dress slightly as she brought her hands down in excitement. “Yes your majesty!” Vauque said. “I believe you already know our people,” and Vauque gestured to the two representatives to his left, “but we also have Lady Moren Wystwith, of Dullen,” a lady to Vauque’s immediate right nodded in recognition, “along with Lady Meliora Van De Natte, representing Plassenar,” and Meliora felt all eyes cast upon her as she tried to keep herself together. She stopped wriggling for a moment to nod towards Her Majesty. Gods it felt awful to stop! “A pleasure to meet you both!” the young Queen said. As soon as she began chattering again, Meliora resumed her little … what was it those Dullener’s in the north called it? Ah yes, ‘potty dance’, hiding behind the safety of the table. The Queen smiled at everyone before continuing, “Please apologize for my intrusion, I was in the area and was merely curious as to how these sorts of proceedings functioned.” The Queen was newly appointed, her father apparently having died in battle, during the most recent Pacification War. But Meliora didn’t have much time to dwell on that, she had to force herself to remember to smile and nod when Vauque began to recount the meeting. As she pressed her hands into her lap as hard as she could, she noticed her dress growing slightly damp. Was she leaking already?! Gods, not now! Maybe I should look down to assess the damage… No. That might give everything away. She was becoming really desperate now, holding herself as best she could. She felt the urine pressing against her bladder, begging for release. Meliora glanced towards the others on her side of the table. Some of them, too, were wriggling slightly in discomfort. Compared to them, the opposite side were eerily calm. Lord Vauque, whether oblivious or not, took his time informing the Queen, who sucked serenely on a pink pacifier a servant had provided her. To make matters worse, just as Vauque’s conversation was coming to an end, Halene and Apprentice Narriss decided to return. Lady Halene was visibly stunned to see the Queen, and slowed her rush to a walk, whilst the young apprentice moved to the seating outside of the pavilion, with the lesser officials, and looking rather ashamed. And was she waddling? The Queen broke off her conversation with Vauque, removed her pacifier, and looked to Halene perturbedly. “And you are?” she asked with an air of surprise. “Lady Halene Goudenel, Your Majesty.” Halene said with a curtsey. Although the Queen seemed a little mollified by Halene’s obedience to procedure, she placed her pacifier on the table instead of resuming. “Well, welcome Lady Goudenel. Do we have any more surprises awaiting us?” She looked at everyone around the table. Meliora was tempted to say that they might have a rather golden surprise if they continued much longer, but thought the better of it. Damn, she wasn’t thinking straight now. She felt another quick burst of pee release, dampening her dress. It was fortunate she was wearing dark colours, because she felt a large wet patch under her rear. “So, Lady Halene, why do you join us only now?” “Oh, I was just taking a quick break from the summit, your majesty.” Halene said. “Yes, I’m sure it must be wearing on you, what with your odd lack of diapers. Though I do hope you remain in my presence for the remainder. This all sounds quite thrilling.” It seemed almost like a threat. A few of the Luin delegates chuckled slightly, though Meliora noticed Vauque’s silent refusal to join in. The Queen only seemed bolstered by the reaction she’d gotten however. “In fact, I’m surprised that none of you have wet yourselves yet! What with all the rumors about you people and your barbarity.” the Queen directed that one straight at Halene, and it was quite clear what she was intimating. A general chuckle from the opposite side of the table didn’t help either, though once again Vauque just reddend, looking embarrassed. A furious blush enveloped Halene, and Meliora saw her fists clenching. “Please excuse my potty mouth. I find the differences in our cultures fascinating, but clearly the more concerning aspects are exaggerated. You seem to be controlling yourselves finely today my lords and ladies. One could only imagine if …” Meliora stopped listening to the queen. The bursts of urine were becoming more and more frequent now. Please let this be over. Please let this be over! All this pee-talk was taking its toll. The warm, damp patch on her rear was growing slowly, trickling into the chair beneath, and Meliora realised that she had fully begun to wet herself. All she could do now was delay the release as much as possible. Meliora saw Vauque glance at her, and blissfully, he cleared his throat and spoke, “Well, I believe that’s been quite enough for today. We have a busy time ahead of us, let us make the most of it!” and he raised his wine glass. Everyone around the table followed suit, though thank the gods no one drank, and they scooted their chairs back. Almost there! Her backside felt wet with warm urine, and as they stood, she felt the cold air get to it. If she could only hold it for a few more moments, just a few more … But the movement was too much. Meliora’s bladder spasmed, and she momentarily let go. It was impossible to hold again. There was little else she could do but gasp, as Meliora felt a sudden stream of warm urine burst out from between her thighs. An utterly blissful wave of relief flooded through her, rippling up her back, as she let her pee go. She sighed heavily, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. Maybe she could have gotten away with a small wet patch on her dark clothing, but this was simply too much. She felt her pee hit the front of her dress, soaking a glistening warmth into it, and putting on a show for the whole table. As her stream slowed, she opened her eyes and blushed as gobsmacked expressions from the other side greeted her. There was no uproar, no shouting. The Queen simply watched in petrified horror, before eventually striding around to Lord Vauque. She whispered something utterly inaudible in his ear. Those around him seemed to have heard however, and sly grins crept onto their faces.Vauque himself only frowned, almost angrily, holding his tongue. She turned and faced Meliora directly. “It seems that I was wrong.” she said quietly before twisting around, her frilly tutu following her moments after in a spiral, and striding away from the Pavillion. The remaining delegates, Meliora included, were left stunned. She looked to Vauque for answers. All he offered was a look of sympathetic resignation. “I’m sorry.” he said. And with that, his side of the table all left the pavilion as well, leaving a very wet Meliora, and her allies, alone. END OF EPISODE 2
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Hi folks! Thanks so much for clicking into this tale. A little bit about me: I'm Lyra, one of the Starlings associated with the Sophie & Pudding community. You might have seen me (or heard me be mentioned) on The Usual Bet. Maybe you've read my previous work, Luna, which is about a new AI on the market designed to fulfill her users' every need. I'm thrilled to finally be releasing my second novel. Comments are, of course, extremely welcome. It's always a thrill for me to be able to give something back to a community that has given me so much already. Synopsis: Mugwort is a Junior Tempter with his first Patient. Luckily for him, his kindly uncle Scumtack has all sorts of advice on the ways demons can use the seven sins to ensnare a human soul! Will Mugwort be able to start his career on the right foot? ~~~~~~~ Preface I can’t tell you how I got these letters. No, I didn’t mean “won’t”. I know what I said. Or wrote. Whatever. The point is, I can’t. As in: “I cannot”. As in: it is literally impossible. Obviously, everything here sounds like total bullshit. I don’t blame you. I don’t think I’d believe me either, especially not with such a flimsy excuse as to why I can’t show you any proof. But what the hell (the irony!), you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, Wayne Gretzky, Michael Scott, so here you go. I thought about saving the originals, but I don’t want to encourage anyone else to go down the same idiotic path that I have. The last thing Earth needs is a bunch of humans with demons as penpals, as if global warming and late-stage capitalism weren’t enough existential crises for us to deal with. If you’re like me (though I hope you’re not), you might have questions when you’re done. Do I expect you all to believe these are real letters? Like, actual goddamned ink on actual goddamned parchment, like it’s Lord of the Rings or something? Why didn’t I go find the people in these letters and try to save them? Am I really sure I’m not crazy? I mean, Occam’s razor, right? All good questions. And yet all completely beside the point. Don’t quibble over crumbs when there’s cake at stake. Especially when it comes to Hell—don’t dig too deep, or else Hell will dig its claws right back into you. I know some of you are going to ignore my advice and go looking anyway. I can’t stop you. But I hope, even if you ignore everything else, you at least take this last word of warning to heart: demons are liars. Remember that, no matter what they might tell you. Lyra Starling ~~~~~~~ Letter I My dear Mugwort, How overjoyed I was to find that you’ve followed my footsteps and joined the Foreign Office! To make Tempter at your young age—I’ve always known that you’d go far; you’ve such a great set of horns on that head of yours. I must warn you: don’t expect any nepotism—you’ll have to work your way down the ranks just as I did. Though, of course, asking your uncle for advice is always a good idea, and hardly something anyone can take umbrage to. You tell me you’re feeling anxiety over your first Patient. Good! Keep it in mind, and never fall into complacency. Although I’ve guided dozens of Patients into the imperturbable arms of Our Father Below, I still treat each new case as if it were my first. The most important decision you’ll have to make is your angle of approach. Each mortal has their own idiosyncrasies, and to lump them all together as one would be sheer folly. Though humans are made of nothing more than dust and mud, even ones crafted by the same mother and father might differ wildly in temperament and outlook. Although one can attempt to teach this in school, only fieldwork can show you how to delicately tip the weight of the scales away from The Enemy and towards Our Father Below. It is imperative that you close the trap delicately, so that they find themselves ensnared without even realizing that there was a struggle for their soul in the first place, at least until it is too late to do anything about it. Based on the background you’ve given me about the Patient—her being marked as gifted in elementary school, failing to live up to those aspirations in college, and now in her young adulthood with a sense of malaise, of feeling like she was meant for greater things—I suspect the avenue of Greed will prove itself fruitful. You should be able to play upon that injured sense of pride, that low-grade simmering resentment against the world, and through that offer shortcuts that lead her closer and closer to Our Father Below. Naturally, I have an illustrative example. Do not try and emulate my actions precisely with your Patient; rather, try to keep in mind that sense of careful prodding and digging to find the lever you need to move the world, as Archimedes so famously put it. Your affectionate uncle, Scumtack ~~~~~~~ Greed: Ava Stone Ava didn’t know it at the time, but the day she met Charlotte Kingsley would turn out to be the most pivotal day in her entire life. Her judgment, like that of Paris of Troy, would be the nexus point that spawned a boundless stream of bad decisions. The two women lived on the same floor in a college dorm, Ava crammed into a tiny triple, Charlotte in a luxurious single. On the first week of school, the hall decided to throw a “get to know each other” party, with everyone agreeing to prop open their dorm room doors and mingle. Ava found herself desperately trying to get out of a boring conversation about cryptocurrency with a man who smelled exactly as bad as his choice of topic when she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a set of unfamiliar green eyes paired with a twinkling smile. “Excuse me,” the stranger said, “I need my friend for something.” Ava felt soft hands grab her by the elbow. Each sky-blue fingernail was immaculately manicured, gently glowing under the hallway light. Without waiting for a response, the stranger led Ava away as she mutely followed. When the two of them had stepped out of earshot, Ava turned back over her shoulder. The man had apparently quickly found another victim to talk at. “You looked like you needed help,” said the stranger. Her words had the lightest drawl, which Ava had never heard anywhere other than on television and found that she quite enjoyed hearing in person. “Thanks, I did,” said Ava, who inexplicably felt nervous. She preemptively wiped her palms against her shirt. “The name’s Charlotte,” said the woman. Ava could see how the symmetry of Charlotte’s face was broken only by a small mole near the dimple where she smiled. She opened her mouth to respond to find that it had gone dry. “A—Ava,” she croaked. Her tongue felt as if it loomed too largely in her mouth, moving about ungainly and causing her to fumble at her words. “Well, A—Ava,” said Charlotte, holding up a brown shopping bag, which gently clinked as she moved it, “how’d you like to join me in my room?” Her room? They’d just met! Charlotte caught the flash of surprise on Ava’s face and winked. “Don’t worry,” she added, “I have a no finance bros policy.” “Well, if that’s the case…” laughed Ava nervously as she let Charlotte lead her down the hall. Charlotte still hadn’t let go of her arm. Part of Ava wished that she never would. Ava heard the laughter of conversation spill out from Charlotte’s room as it mingled with the sound of speakers playing music in the hall. It was a lightly discordant mess, with no attempt to coordinate the music across all the rooms. As Ava got her first look inside Charlotte’s dorm, she felt as if she’d stepped into a closet and ended up in Narnia. Despite the fact that the room only had a single occupant, it was somehow still larger than Ava’s triple. A gaggle of eerily well-groomed teenagers who looked like their parents had vacation homes in the Hamptons mingled amongst themselves. Ava self-consciously picked at a fray that had developed in her jeans. She was the only person in the room whose clothing didn’t intentionally have holes in them. Luckily it turned out that, in real life, greasers and Socs didn’t have to hate each other on sight. Charlotte introduced Ava to her coterie and pulled out the illicit bottles of wine she’d smuggled in. Afterwards, Charlotte fluttered off to different groups and let Ava quietly mingle, just happy to be peripherally involved in Charlotte’s orbit as she heard people use “summer” as a verb for the first time in her life. Pivotal days, of course, have pivotal moments, and Ava’s was coming up. Charlotte had somehow ended up standing on her wooden chair, an orator equal to Cicero with an audience that was just as enraptured. “Fuck capitalism,” she said, the red disposable cup of Two-Buck Chuck in her hand threatening to spill over as she punctuated each beat with a wild gesticulation. “I’m like goddamn Robin Hood. Steal from the rich. Give to the poor.” The crowd shouted a chorus of affirmations. Ava could see Rolexes—or what she thought maybe were Rolexes, she certainly had never seen one before—gleam in the lights as people lifted their arms and whooped and hollered. She joined in anyway, feeling like a sheep in wolf’s clothing. “That’s why I only lift from chain stores,” Charlotte continued. More meat for the ravenous crowd. “No mom-and-pop shops. It’s about the message.” She wobbled as she stepped off the chair and rejoined the mortals on their plane. “I didn’t know you shoplifted,” said Ava to Charlotte after she’d refilled her cup. “You don’t seem like the type.” Charlotte’s emerald eyes gleamed with amusement. “You an expert or something?” she asked playfully. Ava quickly shook her head no. “No? Have you at least stolen anything?” Charlotte followed. “Never,” said Ava. Charlotte’s expression fell a little—or maybe Ava just imagined it did. But either way, she quickly followed up with the line that would forever divide her life in twain: “Maybe you could show me sometime?” “Of course!” Charlotte beamed brightly, her teeth flashing like the sun’s rays cresting over a hill. Ava felt a glow in her chest, like her heart was lit with a farm flame, one that spread through her body and imbued her with a strange energy. She knew she’d do anything to see that smile again. ~~~ Ironically, it was precisely her initial success which ultimately doomed her. One crisp September afternoon, Ava and Charlotte piled into Charlotte’s shiny leased Lexus and drove to a nearby mall for a crash course in shoplifting. Ava chatted up a bored clerk at a stationary supply store while Charlotte stole some pencils as a warm-up, then they reversed their roles so Ava could steal a pair of gloves from a clothing outlet. Getting some alone time with Charlotte was already a pulse-pounding prospect, and the thrill of illicit activity made each moment sing with clarity. There was no way she was going to call it off after such a meager haul, not when there was more time she could spend impressing Charlotte. Ava’s beginner’s luck, however, could only hold out so long. Ava was spotted slipping some lipstick into her purse by a customer with a vigilante streak. Amid the clamor, Ava, who was in her heart a foolish romantic, distracted the employees long enough so that Charlotte could escape. This choice felt brave and daring, the kind of thing that high school Ava never would have done, but that new improved college Ava might do all the time. Eventually, when the adrenaline faded away, reality crashed the party. There was no way she’d be able to pay the fine, let alone the restitution on top. Ava was left with the grim hope that maybe at least she’d scored some points with Charlotte. With her mind on autopilot, Ava made her out out of the mall’s security office out into the world. The sky was irritatingly bright and blue, completely unaware of the swirling tempest of emotion roiling in Ava’s head. She stumbled her way to a nearby park in a daze and sat down on a park bench. Fuck me, Ava thought. She closed her eyes and puffed her cheeks out, sighing in frustration before turning her attention to how she’d dig herself out of this predicament. She could tell her parents, which was an option in the same way that someone could choose to walk on their hands for the rest of their life. You could technically do it, but why? Ava’s mind swirled, her thoughts looping back in on themselves like ouroboroses. Don’t tell Mom and Dad. But I can't afford the fines. Or a lawyer. Who can I borrow money from? I don’t have credit. Tell Mom and Dad. There goes their vacation fund. I’ll know I did this to them. Forever. Mom’ll love trotting this out whenever I see her. The two sides waged war in her mind, arguments arrayed like soldiers in phalanxes, though whatever victory would be inevitably Pyrrhic in nature. Maybe telling her parents wouldn’t be so bad. It really wasn’t realistic to try to run and hide. It would suck, and she wouldn’t get out unscathed, but together, they could figure something out. Maybe she wouldn’t even get suspended from school if she wrapped this up fast enough. Her mind set, she opened her eyes and saw to her surprise a stranger standing way too close to her. Although Ava didn’t really know anything about suits, his looked expensive. She could see her own reflection on the sunglasses he was wearing, saw herself startle at the sudden invasion of personal space. “Hello,” he said, and his voice sounded like the gentle caress of velvet had wrapped itself around those two syllables. “Mind if I sit here?” Ava blinked. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. “Uh…sure? I mean, I was leaving…” She made to stand up, but the stranger continued. “Oh no, Miss Stone, I meant with you. I’d like to chat.” She froze up, ice crystallizing in her veins. “How do you know my name?” she asked. Her fingers tightened against the lip of the wooden bench. “I have my ways,” said the man unhelpfully. “Rest assured, I do not mean you any harm. On the contrary, I’m hoping to help you out.” There was an awkward pause as that statement hung in the air. The man quietly loomed over Ava as her mind furiously raced through possibilities. This guy was clearly not normal. But it couldn’t hurt just to talk, right? They were out in public, with eyewitnesses. It was almost certainly going to be harmless. At least she could find out what he wanted with her. “…okay,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m listening.” “I know you’re in some trouble,” he said. “And I’d like to help.” “Trouble?” Ava asked warily. “What do you mean by that?” The shoplifting thing had just happened, so the only way he’d know about it is if he had been there. She and Charlotte had been on the lookout for bystanders though, and she definitely would have remembered if this guy had been skulking around the Sephora. “I know you have a fine that you have no hope of paying on your own,” started the stranger. Okay, so maybe he was a security officer or mall staff? “And I know you’re thinking about crawling to your parents on your hands and knees,” he concluded. A jolt of fear leapt through Ava’s body. “How the fuck do you know all that?” she asked as adrenaline coursed through her. “I have my ways,” he said, and lowered his sunglasses to look at Ava directly. His irises were the orange of a crackling fire, and his pupils were black vertical slits, slashes of empty void amid a blazing heat. Ava had the odd feeling that if she looked into those eyes long enough, she’d fall through the cracks of the universe. “What the fuck,” said Ava, which was an understatement. “I do apologize for startling you,” said the demon as he put his sunglasses back. He sounded as if he meant it too. “Who are you?” asked Ava. The stranger smiled. “Just someone who can offer you a trade.” There was absolutely no way to tell behind the mirror sheen of his sunglasses, but Ava was confident he’d winked at the end of that sentence. “…okay?” The situation was so odd that it almost became normal. Ava couldn’t properly process what was happening, so she decided she may as well proceed as if this was a perfectly mundane thing to happen. “I’m offering a mutually beneficial exchange,” he said. “I’ll give you two thousand dollars, enough to cover your fine. In cash, too.” A hand slithered inside a coat pocket and pulled out a thin stack of crisp hundred dollar bills. Ava scoffed. “For what? You want my soul or something?” For some reason, the demon found this uproariously funny. He pulled out a blood red handkerchief from a pant pocket and dabbed at the corners of his eyes. “Your soul? That immaterial manifestation of your heart? For something as paltry as money? Come now, Miss Stone, that would hardly be a fair deal.” Ava weakly chuckled at her own naïveté. “Then what do you want?” she asked, relieved. “I’d like for you to sleep with a pacifier every night this week,” said the demon, stuffing his handkerchief back into his pocket. “…what?” Ava said, after a pause. She must have misheard. The request was so incongruous. “A pacifier,” he said. “I’d like you to sleep with one for a week.” The hand that wasn’t holding the money dug into a jacket pocket and pulled out a pink pacifier. It sat there in the palm of his hand, absuredly large. It would have dwarfed an actual baby’s mouth. “Why would you want that?” asked Ava, dumbfounded. “I’m afraid for you, the what is more important than the why,” said the stranger. “The only question you should be asking is whether you believe the boon is worth the price.” Ava eyed the bills hungrily. The solution to her problems was so close she could reach out and snatch it. Her heart hammered at her chest, but she tore her eyes away from the money and looked at the stranger’s face, which was sitting in a composed state of neutrality. She absentmindedly bounced a rhythm on her thigh with the palm of her hand, deep in thought. This demon, or whatever he was, was clearly insane. But was what he was asking for bad? Sleeping with a pacifier was strange to be sure, but what was there to lose? It didn’t hurt anyone else. Plus, if it meant her current predicament could be wrapped up without needing to involve anyone else…In a way, it would be foolish not to accept. Ava thought about how Charlotte might be impressed at how casually Ava would shrug off her fine, and that was the last thing she needed to tip her over the edge. “Deal,” said Ava. “Do I need to sign a contract or something?” “I have no worries about you holding up your end of the bargain,” said the man with a smile. “A simple handshake shall suffice.” As Ava clasped his hand, the demon’s grip exuded a charismatic charm, drawing Ava in with a magnetic force of will. When all was said and done, the demon simply handed Ava the stack of bills and the pacifier. “Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Stone,” he said, smiling genially. “If you should require my services in the future, you have but to come back here.” Ava expected him to disappear in a flash of lightning or something, but he simply mundanely turned and walked away, leaving her to quickly stuff the contraband into her purse. Ava quickly made her way to a nearby ATM so she could cash the money. She half-expected that the deposit would be rejected, that it had all been an elaborate practical joke, but the machine cooly accepted her bills and credited her account balance. Just like that, she was two thousand dollars richer. As Ava walked back to her room with the crisp night air biting into her exposed skin, she thought about what she’d agreed to. He’d asked her to sleep with a pacifier for a week. There was no way she was going to sleep with one in her mouth—if one of her roommates saw that, it would be the end of her nascent social life. But maybe if she just had it next to her in bed, safely tucked away, then she could technically fulfill the promise with no risk of social suicide. That could work. Ava let herself grin. Her dorm room, luckily, was empty when she got back. Ava shrugged her purse off of her shoulders, dropping it onto the desk with a thud. She quickly palmed the pacifier inside and climbed up to her top bunk, the ladder quietly creaking. Ava flopped facedown onto her blue sheets without even crawling inside, exhausted from the day. She stashed the pacifier under her pillow and closed her eyes, fully expecting not to open them until morning. Ava found though, that despite the tiredness in her bones, that she kept tossing and turning. She was normally a quick sleeper—she honestly didn’t mind sharing a room with two people, they almost never kept her up—but right now rest was eluding her. Her thoughts weren’t even racing. It was as if her brain was just a idling engine, quietly humming with activity, but one that she couldn’t figure out how to shut off. She rubbed her eyes and rolled over, putting a pillow over her head to block out the dim light of the phone chargers in the room. There was no way she had to actually sleep with the pacifier in her mouth, was there? The thought was ludicrous. But as Ava yawned, feeling as if her energy had left her body along with her breath, it didn’t seem that out of the question. She felt like butter scraped over too much bread. It was worth a shot. She had class in the morning. Feeling silly, she rooted for the pacifier, grabbing it and sticking the bulb in her mouth. She nibbled a bit on the silicone, feeling how it gave as she bit and sprung back as her jaw relaxed. There’s no way that this will work, she thought, right before she drifted off. ~~~ Ava made it almost a month before reaching out to her mysterious benefactor. She’d managed to mostly put the incident behind her and count herself lucky, letting her deal with a demon fade into the background as the the grind of regular life consumed her attention. There were tests to study for and a girl to spend time with. It was too bad that Charlotte’s birthday was in November. “Hey so like, for my birthday I was thinking of doing a lil’ weekend in Vail?” Charlotte twirled a tress of hair with her index finger absentmindedly. “My parents said that their cabin was free so we can ski all weekend.” The two of them were in the café that Ava worked at part time, pretending to study over steaming mugs of coffee. Ava didn’t know what a Vail was, but she did know that skiing sounded expensive. It was like lacrosse or polo, sports that nobody in Ava’s life had ever done until she’d met Charlotte. “I don’t know how to ski,” she laughed nervously. “I’ll teach you!” The light in Charlotte’s green eyes danced with excitement. Ava pursed her lips in thought. She could miss a weekend shift. And it might be fun to try something new. “Well then, I’m in,” said Ava, grinning. “Awesome!” Charlotte squealed with joy, which Ava normally found grating on other women but which on Charlotte only reminded Ava of her zest for life. “I’ll book everyone’s tickets so we can sit together on the plane. Venmo me back whenever.” The record that was Ava’s life scratched. Charlotte hadn’t said anything about needing to fly there. But it was too late to back out now. “Great,” Ava smiled weakly. Ava absolutely did not have a spare couple hundred dollars at hand. She thought about picking up extra shifts, or maybe even a second job, but her schoolwork was already beginning to suffer. Suddenly, the deal she’d made at the park bench came to mind. Could she really go seek him out? Until now, she could truthfully say that she hadn’t gone out looking for demons. They’d come to her. If she did this, she’d be culpable. But that first request had been so innocent. Maybe they’d all be like that. And worst case, she could always turn him down. Indeed, it would be foolish not to at least see if he could help. As Charlotte approached the park bench, she could see that someone was already sitting on it. As she got closer, his details resolved into the familiar silhouette of her benefactor. “Hello, Miss Stone,” he said, nodding his head. “Please, take a seat.” This time, she sat. “I need some money,” she said, skipping right to the point. “Straight to business,” chided the demon. He dug in his pocket, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. With a few flicks, he got the fire started and puffed. “Can you help me or not?” pressed Ava. The demon blew out a cloud of wispy smoke. The smell reminded her of ancient tomes and spiced cider. “I can,” sighed the stranger. “You are seeking funds for a weekend trip?” Ava nodded impatiently. “I can offer you enough to go, and some spending money to boot.” “And the catch?” Ava stared daggers into the demon’s face, hoping to catch a glimpse of ulterior motive, but his unnerving sunglasses made him impossible to read. “Another small favor,” he said. He took deep drag and exhaled. “Juice instead of soda with your meals for two weeks.” It was twice the length, but much easier to hide. This time the calculus was easy. “Deal,” said Ava, and shook his hand for the second time. ~~~ The third time that Ava met the demon, the whole endeavor had gained the comfortability of routine, like well-worn slippers waiting at the end of a workday. The same well-worn bench in the same well-manicured park. Much like the trees, steadfastly evergreen, the demon’s appearance was constant. Ava exhaled as she sat down, her breath condensing into a mist of fog. The demon, who had already lit his cigar, blew out his own smoke from his lungs, and the two vapors swirled and mingled with each other before evaporating out of sight. “A pleasure to see you again, Miss Stone,” said the stranger amiably. Ava watched as three excited dogs on leashes walked a hapless woman. “I hope you’ve been well,” said Ava. Strangely enough, she almost meant it. Even with his weird stipulations, he had been helping her out. It was natural human instinct to want to reciprocate in kind. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “My my, such manners this time. What a good girl you must have been.” Ava rankled at the remark but let it go for now. Get what she wanted first, then she could worry about incidentals. “Could you get me enough money to get a new laptop?” she asked. “What’s wrong with your current one?” asked the demon. Ava blinked. He hadn’t asked for her reasoning the last two deals. “Well…” Ava thought about how isolated she felt when group projects came up and she was the only one without a MacBook. How her computer always whirred whenever it did anything remotely intensive like it was a helicopter trying to take off. How nice it would be to just have something that worked in her life for once. How nice it would be for Charlotte to ooh and aah at Ava’s new toy. “I just want an upgrade,” Ava finished, eliding her entire thought process. The demon unhurriedly scratched at his chin in thought. It was like watching a gargoyle come to life, his motions were so slow and considerate. “One month of sleeping with a pacifier,” he finally said. “One month?” Ava repeated, flabbergasted. “The first time it was only a week!” “The first time,” the demon evenly said, “you were in a crisis.” Ava frowned. “Wouldn’t that normally be when you charge the most? What’s your deal here?” The demon gently shook his head and sighed. “I am not a loan shark, Miss Stone,” he said firmly. “Perhaps in your world, people prey on the weak so that the strong may get stronger. But I do not operate like that. You need this laptop less, and therefore my price is greater.” Ava considered her options. A month was a long time, long enough that she would genuinely run into the risk of one of her roommates finding out. And he was right, she didn’t need this laptop in the same way she’d needed to pay her fine. But in its own twisted kind of way, the demon’s logic made sense. Ava knew that being poor was more expensive than being rich. Charlotte’s fancy laptop cost a fortune, but she never had to scramble for money when a part failed, or deal with the unavoidable slowness tax that plagued Ava every time she used it. Charlotte, for all her virtues, never quite understood this part of Ava. She couldn’t understand why Ava didn’t just buy the thing that worked the first time. She thought Ava was shooting herself in the foot by being cheap by choice, when really it was by necessity. The fact that this demon understood what Ava’s classmates didn’t was sobering. He was being fair, more fair than humans themselves would have been. “Deal,” she said, and she shook his hand for the third time. ~~~ By the time the end of the semester was in sight, dealing with the demon had become almost like another chore, like picking up her part of the room or working out, as had the baby things. She’d cut swear words from her vocabulary for two weeks. She’d worn a diaper for the first time in fifteen years, just to bed. She’d even wet it too, on another occasion. And now, her latest deal: wearing a diaper for twenty-four hours in exchange for extra spending money for a winter vacation trip with Charlotte and her crew. It was going to be a piece of cake. It was dead week. She didn’t have classes to go to. Her only job was going to be studying for finals. And so, one morning, Ava shuffled off to a private bathroom and taped herself into a diaper, each step taken with the steady hand of experience. Lay a towel on the floor, with the unfolded diaper on top. Shimmy off her pants and panties. Sit down, feeling how the soft fluff contrasted with the ragged fuzziness of the towel. Pull the front up between her legs. Slide a finger around the leg bands to ensure a snug fit. Peel the tapes off carefully, the loudest and most dangerous part. Press each one in firmly. Ava stood and looked in the mirror as she adjusted the tapes, feeling the thickness of the padding rubbing against her inner thighs. When she was done, she finished changing into her outfit for the day. She’d learned that her normal slim-fitting pants were a bad idea. Even when she tried wearing sweatpants, the diaper puffed up around her waist in a way that panties very much didn’t. She’d eventually found something that worked. For today, it was a simple white blouse with a black bow tied around the collar and a high-waisted gray skirt. Comfortable and discreet, perfect for studying. She put her towel back on the rack, sat at her desk, and opened her notebooks. Ava’s studies were interrupted mid-morning by a building urge in her bladder. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to wet herself though, though she couldn’t do it sitting down. After checking to make sure she was alone, she stood up and relaxed, feeling the warmth spread out from between her legs, quiet tinkling sounds covered by a sigh of relief. When she was done, she reached under her skirt and patted around the leg bands. The wet diaper squished into her skin as she felt her thighs for any signs of wetness. She hadn’t taped herself properly the first time she’d wet herself, and she’d had to do an emergency load of laundry in the middle of the night. This time though, her thighs were blessedly dry. Suddenly, Ava heard a knock on the door, followed by the creak of it opening. She quickly removed her hands and smoothed her skirt down, her heart skipping a beat with surprise. Charlotte poked her head in the room, her gently curled tawny tresses gently bouncing. “Hey!” she said. “I know this is real sponty of me, but I thought maybe we could have a picnic? Just the two of us?” She raised her arm up, showing Ava a wicker picnic basket. “I’ve got a whole charcuterie set and everything.” Her eyes shimmered like a mossy glen kissed by the morning light. Ava froze. Why did Charlotte have to stop by today of all days? Her first instinct was to demur. But why? Hadn’t she been doing everything for Charlotte? And a picnic—that was romantic. Turning her down would send the wrong message. It would jeopardize everything she’d worked for all semester. “Sure, I’d love to,” said Ava, anticipation and anxiety swirling together into a confusing cocktail of emotion. As the two of them walked, Ava couldn’t stop thinking about the diaper between her legs. Each crinkle seemed to crackle in the air like gunshots. There was no way Charlotte didn’t know, but somehow she was oblivious. Ava ran through a mental catalogue of increasingly flimsy excuses. Jolly Ranchers in her pockets. A plastic bag that had blown around them. Charlotte was just imagining things. Against all odds, Charlotte had somehow chosen the same exact park that Ava met her benefactor at. A pit of dread nestled itself into Ava’s stomach. Thankfully, as Charlotte led Ava to a sunny spot on a grass knoll, Ava could see that the park bench down the pedestrian path was blissfully empty. Charlotte unfurled a checkered blanket with a flourish, laying it on the lush grass before setting her basket on top and kicking her sandals off. Ava followed suit, plopping down with a soft squish. Charlotte pulled out the picnic spread. As they enjoyed their lunch, a light breeze swirled around the two of them like a mischievous pixie. “I know I’ve said this before,” Charlotte said between bites of bread, “but thanks for having my back when we got caught.” “Of course,” said Ava. “That was months ago though. Why’re you bringing this up now?” “Just practicing gratitude,” said Charlotte, winking beguilingly. Ava laughed and reached for the blueberry jam. The tips of her fingers brushed against Charlotte’s, sending crackles of electricity up Ava’s arm. She jerked her arm back, then looked at Charlotte, embarrassed. “I don’t bite,” Charlotte said with a smirk. “Unless you want me to.” She took her hand and slowly cupped Ava’s chin. “Uh…” Ava could feel her breathing quicken. The world fell away, leaving the two of them perched on a knife’s edge between worlds of possibility. “I think,” Charlotte breathed, “that you do want me to.” She closed her eyes and leaned in, giving Ava a kiss. Ava could taste the traces of jam on Charlotte’s lips, a perfect complement to Ava’s own. “I do,” said Ava, and received another kiss in response, Charlotte’s hair gently tickling Ava’s cheek. Ava could smell faint traces of Charlotte’s strawberry shampoo and feel the soft tickle of Charlotte’s breath on her skin. With a surge of movement, Charlotte wrapped an arm around Ava’s back and leaned forward, until they ended up with Ava’s back on the blanket and Charlotte on top. Charlotte shifted a leg, straddling Ava with her knees on the blanket, and gently kissed Ava on the neck. Ava let out a small whimper of pleasure as Charlotte moved her kisses further and further down Ava’s neck. Charlotte moved one hand under Ava’s skirt, brushing against her inner thighs. Ava suddenly froze, her heart skipping a beat as her she acutely remembered the infantile garment she was wearing under her skirt. “We’re in public,” Ava said, reaching for Charlotte’s arm to pull it away. She tried sitting up, but Charlotte just added more pressure to the hand on Ava’s chest. “No one’s looking,” Charlotte purred, gently tapping her hand up Ava's leg before poking the plastic leg band and pausing. “What…?” Charlotte said, almost to herself. That was decidedly not what panties felt like. Ava’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She tried prying Charlotte’s hand away, but she swatted Ava’s arm away and patted Ava’s crotch. Ava felt the hand on the front of her diaper, the sensation muted by the bulky material wrapped around her hips. The soggy padding pressed into her skin as she was wracked with another wave of humiliation. Charlotte experimentally pressed her fingers into Ava’s diaper a few more times, as if she were checking to see if jello had set. Ava tried to wiggle her way out, but she had no leverage. Charlotte made a puzzled frown before suddenly shifting her weight onto her knees and flipping Ava’s skirt up. “What are you doing?” Ava cried out. She tried to flip her skirt back down, but Charlotte grabbed her wrists and pushed them into the picnic blanket. The cheerful outlines of teddy bears and baby bottles were visible to anyone who turned their head to look, the diaper a white badge of shame forever making Ava a Hester Prynne. Ava turned her head from side to side, feeling like a thousand eyes had manifested and turned their undivided attention towards her, but for the most part people were quietly doing their own thing. Ava saw someone point at her and turn to their partner before giggling. Her paranoia refused to allow for any charitable explanation. “What are you wearing?” Charlotte asked, bewildered. She hadn't been completely sure before she’d made visual contact—the idea that Ava would be wearing a diaper hadn’t even been a remote possibility in her mind. “Please,” Ava said, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She was on a knife’s edge, ready to break down sobbing, which would not have helped her case at all. “I can explain,” she said, hoping that maybe her mind would catch up and lay out a reasonable explanation. “Do you need diapers or something? Oh my God, I had no idea,” said Charlotte, her own cheeks reddening with sympathetic embarrassment. “No! I don’t!” blurted out Ava, scrambling to save face. Charlotte furrowed her brow as her mind shifted tracks. “So this is just for kicks? Like some kind of sex thing?” She shifted her weight off of Ava and sat on the blanket. It was clear that Ava had made a tactical error. “Char,” Ava said, pulling her skirt back over her diaper, “please. Don’t freak out.” “It’s not that,” said Charlotte, sounding conflicted. “It’s just really unexpected.” She bit her lip. “Like, what, was it fun for it to be a secret or something?” “I didn’t want to tell you,” pled Ava. “You should have,” said Charlotte. “You should have gotten my consent. I’m not a prude. I don’t care what you’re into. But you should have told me.” As Charlotte quietly packed the picnic back up and left, Ava could do nothing but sit, arms around her knees as she cried. After a few minutes, when her tears had slowed and her pity party started winding down, a shadow suddenly covered her. She looked up to see the demon, face perfectly neutral, as if the events that had transpired were like static on a television, meaning nothing to him. “I messed up,” Ava mumbled into her arms. “Perhaps,” said the demon sympathetically. “But you might be interested to know that my assistance can extend beyond the purely monetary. That girl doesn’t have to slip out of your reach.” The demon had led Ava into this. He wanted her in diapers for some reason. It was inevitable that eventually someone would find out. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along. Ava had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn’t taken his deals, she wouldn’t be in this situation at all. But that was true on multiple levels. Without the money to cover the fine, she might not have even been able to keep going to college. She might have been expelled. He’d never forced her to do anything. Her hand always shook his willingly, with no attached puppet strings. She’d been the architect of her own doom, and now the only thing she could do was pray in the cathedral she’d made. Ava had traded so much already to catch Charlotte’s eye. Why stop now? As long as she kept her wits about her, she could take more than she gave. Just because this deal had backfired didn’t mean that every deal would. She could be more careful. She could do it right. Ava took a deep breath in, then breathed it out with a sigh. “Tell me the terms,” she said, and the demon cracked the barest of smiles.
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Part 1 Freddie Stevens was sitting at his computer and working on his last game project. It was a large fantasy adventure, and he was about to perform the very first playtests. The game was almost ready to play, and he planned to provide the alpha version to his friends. “It’s time to send e-mails to Tony and Marianne,” he told to himself and opened the e-mail program. Tony and Marianne were his friends and they often helped him. All of sudden, he noticed an unknown wi-fi network in the list. A wi-fi network wasn’t anything extraordinaire but Freddie lived in a small house about five miles away from the nearest village and he used his private access point with a satellite modem. There were no more access points around. Somebody could wander through the forest but there was no mobile signal there. The satellite modem was the only connection to the outer world. Freddie liked the life far from the civilization. He could work on his projects undisturbed, and his loyal companions were rabbits and does that came close to his house. The house itself was well equipped and mostly independent on the external power. The unknown wi-fi network wasn’t the only strange phenomenon. About a month ago, Freddie walked through the forest. He arrived at a small clearing and noticed a strange fog. He was taken aback; it was a sunny day. Suddenly, he spotted a doe appearing out of the fog. The next day he returned to the same clearing and noticed another doe disappearing in the fog. He was tempted to enter the fog, but he didn’t have the courage to do it. Freddie was staring at the unknown wi-fi network, and he decided to succumb to the temptation and connect. The network was public and unprotected. To his utter shock, the e-mail program disconnected instantly. Freddie didn’t panic and tried to open Google. Google worked but Freddie was not able to find any familiar places or persons. Was he looking at a different world? After browsing several sites, he felt like in a daydream or fairy-tale. A knocking on the door awakened Freddie from his dreams. Who could arrive at his place? He wasn’t aware of any visit and does didn’t knock on the door. He stood up and walked over to the door. When he opened it, he stared at the visitor in utter surprise. “Good afternoon, sir,” a small girl at about ten was standing in front of the door. She was short and slender with long dark hair arranged in a ponytail and deep brown eyes. She was wearing clothes resembling a school uniform – a white blouse, a knee length skirt and jacket with a checkered pattern, thick tights and low-heeled shoes. Freddie also noticed a rather big backpack on her back. “Hey, little girl, how did you get here? Did you get lost? Where are your parents? Are you all alone here?” “My name is Ann, and I probably passed the Border. Where am I?” “W … what? What border? My name is Freddie and the next village is Chatsson. I live in a small house and I’m alone here.” “Don’t you know about the Border? We learned about it and about another strange world behind it.” “Strange? I live here and I don’t find it strange,” Freddie shrugged, “In either case, come in. We can talk inside.” Ann nodded and walked in. Freddie showed her the way and they stopped in his small living room. “Sit down. Would you like to have something to drink or eat?” “Yeah, please. Can I have a cup of juice?” Ann put the backpack off her back and sat down. “Of course, Ann,” Freddie left for the kitchen and returned with a cup of juice, “have your drink and tell me more about yourself. Why are you walking through the forest? Can you walk all alone? Where are your parents.” “I should explain you, sir …” “Call me Freddie.” “Okay, Freddie. I am looking for a Caretaker and I don’t know my parents.” “W … what? Where do you live then? Who takes care of you?” “Freddie, I live in the Children Centre now, but I turned ten two days ago and now I should find a Caretaker. Children live in the Centers until they turn ten.” “What happens then?” “They have to find a Caretaker that will take care until their adulthood. Otherwise, they are assigned to public caretakers. To be honest, I wouldn’t like to get assigned. Some of my friends have been assigned and they complained about the treatment by the public caretakers.” Freddie kept listening and he couldn’t believe his ears. What world was the little girl talking about? However, he remembered the sites he had found shortly ago. “Okay, I need some time to cope with everything you’ve told me. You are looking for a caretaker. How did you cross the border? Do you believe to find a caretaker here?” “Why not. Would you like to become my caretaker?” “Wait, Ann. It is not that simple. We don’t know caretakers in our world. It would be an adoption and a judge had to assign you as my adoptive daughter.” “It is simple. Come with me and you become my caretaker in our world. We can return and live here if you want to.” “Okay, but I don’t have any experience with children, Ann. I’m a bachelor.” Freddie watched Ann and tried to imagine himself as a parent; he didn’t like the word Caretaker. “Don’t worry, Freddie. I won’t trouble you at all and I’ll help you with all chores. I’ve learned it at the Children Centre.” “What if somebody comes to visit? How do I explain your presence? Somebody could call the social services.” Ann kept silent. She wasn’t aware of the laws on the other side. It was simple to assign an adult as her caretaker in her world. Nevertheless, she believed that it could be solved somehow. “Would you like to try it at least? You wouldn’t be alone here though.” “I don’t know, Ann ….” “Please,” Ann made puppy eyes at Freddie. “Okay then; you convinced me even if I’m not able to imagine a life with a child. However, it is getting late now. You shouldn’t go to the forest in the darkness. Stay here and we will go to your world tomorrow. I’ll make a dinner and find some bedsheets for you. Won’t you get missing?” “I don’t think so. Children like me can look for their caretakers for several days even if I don’t remember a caretaker from behind the Border.” Ann suddenly kept silent for about a minute, and she turned to Freddie then. “Freddie, I need a diaper change. I’ve just peed myself and the diaper is soaked already.” “A diaper change? Do you need diapers? You are ten though.” “Yeah, I need diapers. Hopefully I’ll get toilet trained at 18 or later.” “Well, that’s another challenge. I’ve never changed diapers. Can’t you change them on your own?” “Sorry, Freddie, I can’t do it. We can learn it when we turn 17. However, it is not difficult, Freddie. I have everything necessary with me,” Ann pointed at the backpack. Freddie sighed quietly. The parent role itself was a challenge and changing diapers made it even harder. He opened the backpack and pulled out several cloth diapers, a package of baby wipes, a spare pair of rubber pants and spare tights. There was a plastic bag and a changing mat inside, too. “Ann, is it enough until tomorrow?” Freddie looked at the diapers. There were six large flat diapers there. “I need two diapers for every change. You will need two of them now, two after dinner and the last two during the night. Can you wash the four diapers after dinner?” “Of course, I can, and the washing machine can dry them as well.” “That’s fine, change me now please. I don’t like the wet feeling,” Ann walked over to a couch and lay down. She removed her shoes and tights and lifted her skirt. The rubber pants were exposed, and Ann spread her legs. “Unbutton the pants,” she asked Freddie. He did it and the urine reek spread across the room. The diapers between her legs were soaked. “Pull the diapers from beneath me, take the baby wipes and wipe my crotch,” Ann continued. Freddie nodded and obeyed her commands. He put two clean diapers beneath her, powdered her, pulled the diapers between her legs and buttoned the rubber pants. Five minutes later Ann was clean and dry. She put on the tights and shoes and jumped down from the couch. “The first caretaker task accomplished,” she grinned, “where is the bathroom? We have to rinse the dirty diapers and put them into a pail.” Ann headed towards the bathroom and Freddie shook his head only. What the hell did he get into?
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Part 1 It was a hot late afternoon in August 1875 when a small group of girls was sitting in the patio of the Vennesvik inn. However, a random observer would notice that their arms were tied behind their backs. The group was no exception. All women around had their arms tied up as well. According to the Restriction Law in the Estreamund Kingdom, all females over 16 had to have their arms tied except for at home. Their husbands, fathers or brothers had to take care of their needs but they also had the authority to keep their wives, daughters or sisters tied up even more than necessary by the Law. In case of missing a family-related male caretaker, a public male caretaker was assigned. Almost all females were plagued by incontinence and they had to wear diapers. Of course, there were no disposables diapers available at those times, and dozens of washed diapers were hanging behind every house. The women and girls had to wash their diapers two or three times in a week. Surprisingly, there was no sign of rebellion from either side. The males accepted their role even if it was quite uncomfortable, and the females didn’t try to protest or try to escape. There was something like a dark mystery and curse hanging over the country as if the mind of every human was affected by a magic power. “How are you doing today, Anette?” a blonde girl turned to her neighbor, “It’s fine I’ve finished my chores and my father allowed me go here and drink a beer.” “You’re lucky, Sigrid; you have your father. My father passed away long ago and Olaf has been taking care of me since then.” “I know, Anette; Olaf is a good caretaker; I haven’t heard any complaints.” “Of course, he is but he has to take care of five girls including me and I have to stay tied up whenever he isn’t around. That’s quite frustrating. I can’t do anything on my own and I have to wear a thick diaper package. Today he stopped at my house at lunch and I could eat and change my diapers. Since then, I’ve been browsing the village and trying to waste time. He will come in the evening to do his round, and he will tie me to the bed then.” Sigrid nodded only. She knew about Anette and several more girls and women that were assigned a public caretaker. Olaf was really a good man, but he was a bit overloaded. Each of his clients had one morning and one afternoon reserved during workdays and about two days of weekend every month. Most of the reserved time they washed their diapers and tidied up. Nevertheless, Olaf’s life was even harder; he had only two days off in a month. James walked over to the girls and he held the glassof beer at their lips so they could drink. James was a nice young boy; he was the innkeeper’s son and he often helped his father. “Thank you, James,” Sigrid smiled at him. “You’re welcome, Sigrid,” he replied and moved to Anette. Anette drank up her cup and almost asked James for another one when she felt a stream of pee soaking her diaper package. The package was quite heavy and uncomfortable, and she couldn’t dare to pee once more until the next change. “Good afternoon, ladies; hopefully I don’t disturb” Olaf’s voice sounded cheerful and the middle aged man sat down next to the group. “Not at least, Olaf. Is your shift over already?” Anette turned to him. “Yeah, Anette, it is getting late. Maybe I should start my evening round soon. Would you like to be the first one?” “Why not, Olaf?” Anette’s heart jumped; she would get rid of the damn wet diaper. “Well, I’ll drink a beer and we can go then,” Olaf nodded, “James, bring me a glass of beer and the dinners for my girls.” The women cared for by public caretakers couldn’t work and the municipality took care of all their needs. The innkeeper prepared food and his expenses were refunded. Unfortunately, that was a reason for bad relationships. The poor women were considered parasites despite the fact they couldn’t work. Five minutes later James appeared with the beer and a big bag, Olaf paid for the beer and lifted the glass to his lips. He really was thirsty. Anette watched him only. “Let’s go, Anette,” Olaf stood up and stepped forward. Anette also stood up and waddled behind him. The wet package between her legs was heavy and Anette was worried about a leakage. “Hurry up? Anette,” Olaf closed the door and Anette hurried up to the small bathroom to remove the diaper package, wash herself and put on a new diaper and change into her nightshirt. She ate her dinner quickly and washed dishes. “Up to the bed,” Olaf took several pieces of rope and followed Anette. She lay down obediently and stretched her arms behind her head. Olaf tied her wrists to the upper bedposts. “Spread your legs,” Olaf took another piece of rope and tied it around her left ankle, “Sorry but I have to be sure you won’t try to get free, Anette.” “Don’t worry, Olaf. Why should I try to do it?” Anette smiled at Olaf. He was a handsome man, and he sometimes couldn’t resist the temptation when he took care of women. He was single; no woman wanted to marry a public caretaker for a good reason. Anette liked him and they had an intimate relationship. “Okay then,” Olaf tied her ankle to the lower bedpost and moved to her right side to repeat the procedure with her right ankle. Anette moaned quietly when she felt his hands on her bare legs. “Good night and think of me.” He covered her, leaned down, kissed her lips, put out the light and left. Anette couldn’t fall asleep; it was too early. She was thinking of Olaf, and she felt a slight arousal. Her life was almost miserable, and the time spent with Olaf was a pleasant one. Of course, she had several friends in the village, but they met rarely. Sigrid and Kristi were quite busy with helping their families. Mona and Hannah were two widows, and they were also cared for by Olaf; nevertheless they were quite boring and Anette wouldn’t like to meet them because of the urine smell. The old women liked beer and their diapers leaked almost every day. The thoughts of Olaf caused an itching feeling down between her legs, and she started pulling on the ropes in a vain effort to scratch that itch. Unfortunately, the inability to scratch the itch made it even more intense. She started moaning and pulling on the ropes but the response was unexpected; a stream of pee soaked her diaper. She sighed only, and the arousal disappeared. Suddenly the door opened, and a small figure sneaked in. “Hello, Anette,” James’s vice sounded cheerful. “Hi, James, nice to see you. Have you finished today?” “Not exactly but I wanted to see you. You are that lonely and you might need a friend.” “Oh, it is really nice from you, James. Right, I am quite lonely, and Olaf had to leave to take care of other his clients.” “Would you like to have one more beer to sleep better?” “Oh no,” Anette realized the wet package between her legs and blushed a little, “I would leak until morning.” “Unless,” James grinned mischievously, “unless somebody changed your diaper.” “Hey, what would you like to say?” “Don’t worry. I think Olaf has changed your diaper already. I know how to do it; I’ve changed my mother and sister already.” “Okay then. I might use it,” she smiled at the small boy. Was he really that nice? “Wait a little,” James set off and he returned fifteen minutes later with a glass of beer. “Drink,” he held the glass at Anette’s lips and let her drink. Anette was quite thirsty and drank it up quickly. The reaction was almost immediate, and another stream of pee escaped her bladder. “James …”, she grinned, and James nodded. He brought two cleans diapers and lifted Anette’s nightshirt, unbuttoned the rubber pants and removed the wet diapers. “You are all wet indeed,” he pulled the wet diapers form beneath Anette and put on two clean ones. “Well, it will hold until morning,” he covered her, took the wet diapers, put them into the pail and left, “good night.” Anette closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly. She was glad to have a new friend even if it was a small boy.
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This story is written for the 3rd kasarberang non-contest. That Escalated Quickly By Bo Tox Chapter 1 Well, I suppose I have no one to blame but myself but the damned genie didn’t have to be so vindictive about it. Let my mistakes be a warning: Don’t make the three wishes. It never ends well. I was minding my own business while metal detecting at the beach. That day I found a fake high-end watch, a wedding ring and lots of trash. I was loading my gear into my backpack. The metal detector was still on and I sat it down near the dunes. It went off with the sound of something strong. The spot it indicated was above the high tide line so whatever was in the sand wasn’t new unless someone purposefully buried it. The sand was easy to dig in and I found a handle. Once pulled, the handle was attached to a pot. When I had it fully out of the ground, it resembled an old teapot. The teapot was a dull metal, maybe brass. It certainly didn’t look like it had a lot of value but if it were old enough, it might bring something. I tossed it in with the rest of my booty and finished preparing to leave. My diaper was pretty wet so it was definitely time to go. About the diaper, it is for convenience. If I’m making good progress while prospecting, I don’t want to stop to find a toilet. The facilities at the beach are often poorly maintained and borderline disgusting. With everything loaded in the car, it was good to get back into an air-conditioned car. Twenty minutes later, the car was in the garage and the day’s treasure was in the laundry room sink, getting rinsed off. While that stuff soaked, it was time to get something to eat, rehydrate and change my diaper. Full disclosure, diapers aren’t just for convenience. I might actually like to wear them. There’s nothing wrong with that. Lots of people do it. The microwave was spinning a pizza and half a bottle of water sat on the table while I went to get into a dry diaper. The microwave beeped on the way back to the kitchen. A fresh diaper is always a nice feeling. After eating and drinking enough to feel full, I went to the sink to start inspecting my finds a little more thoroughly. The teapot was rinsed off and put aside to dry. The other items needed another rinse. I towel-dried the teapot. It looked better cleaned up. A little shine might make it nice. A little metal polish and some elbow grease would do wonders. I squirted the polish into the cloth and started rubbing the teapot. I wasn’t paying much attention. When I looked at the lamp, it was brilliant with smoke coming out of the spout. The lights flickered a few times and the smoke grew thicker. I had no idea what was going on so I sat the teapot on the counter and backed away. A booming voice announced, “WHO HAS FREED ME?” I was shaking and might have even peed my diaper a little bit but answered, “I did, James.” “I am the genie of the lamp,” said the voice as the smoke coalesced into a head and flowed down to arms and a torso. The lower part remained a smoky haze. “Lamp? I thought this was a teapot,” I said. The arms of the genie spread and she smiled, “I was imprisoned in the lamp for 100 years. You have freed me and I will grant you three wishes and only three wishes. Choose wisely, James.” I scratched my ear and looked at the genie, “Three wishes. I’ll have to think about that a minute.” The genie looked at me with a wry smile, “Don’t take too long.”
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? Isle of Foxes By Horatio Husky Commissioned by ArtMckinley Part One ”Island” Janet Parker kept her breathing steady, and her sights up. Disembarking from the rowboat after having crossed part of the East China Sea, the young anthropologist’s arms had shook even as she hauled the boat ashore. Still, after having furtively glanced around the deserted shoreline, she confirmed that she had managed to arrive undetected. Shouldering her backpack and hefting her emergency supplies kit out of the boat, she had half carried, half dragged her supplies to the jungle’s edge and hoisted her baggage into a small nestling of exposed rock. There, she would set up her camp. No fire or open forest floor plan for Janet, however. The mission she was attempting to undertake required utmost discretion, for not only was she going to have to camouflage her encampment as best as she could, but the boat would also have to be hauled further onto the island and hidden with brush. Still, Janet figured, she had some time yet. Carefully unpacking some of her supplies, she laid out the spokes and tarp that would make up her tent. Patterned the same lush hues of green as the surrounding underbrush, the anthropologist internally crossed her fingers that she would remain undetected. As she began to erect the tent, moving the expanding metal rods and tough, industrial string through the various pores of the tarp, her mind wandered back to the grueling process that had led her to the island she had been fascinated with since childhood. Maps of ‘Okidaitōjima’ had covered the walls in her bedroom ever since she was twelve. Previously known as ‘Rasa Island’ but also known as ‘Abreojos’ by its Spanish discoverer Bernardo de la Torre, who had become all too familiar with its perilously shallow surrounding shores, it was not the geography or its history that fascinated Janet. For thousands of years, the Japanese islanders who inhabited the Okinawa Islands held the island as sacred and forbidden to set foot upon. Untouched by humanity for hundreds of years, the island was rumored to be home to the only known species of intelligent, anthropomorphic foxes. Only recently had satellite imagery confirmed that the island was, in fact, inhabited. Changes in the island’s landscape and blurry images supplied by the satellite’s imagery suggested that there was indeed a primitive presence on the island. Janet still remembered the moment she had first viewed the low resolution pictures of erected watch towers and small huts, covered in leafy green vines and appearing almost as if they had been grown out of the forest into a desired shape. She had almost spat out her morning coffee when, unnoticed by her colleagues, a suspiciously orange shape appeared to be perched neatly in one of the towers. She had kept this observation to herself of course. Janet knew that if she founded her request to her university’s funding committee based on what most considered to be Japanese folklore she would be laughed out of the conference room. Persuading the Japanese government to lift the sanctions protecting the island’s shores from visitors of any kind was no easy task either. After several months of back and forth, Janet had opened her office mailbox to the welcome sight of a red envelope addressed to her personally. Inside of it, she was greeted with a letter proudly marked with the logo of the Japanese embassy. Not only had she been granted a researcher’s visa, but she would become the very first civilized human being to study the island’s inhabitants. Janet had gotten her chance, a childhood dream to prove to the world that lateral sentient evolution had occurred in other mammalian species. With any luck, after collecting enough evidence to make her claim undisprovable, she would begin a new career as the world’s first and leading anthropomorphologist. Janet regarded her handiwork, noting with a sense of self-satisfaction that her practice at home had paid off. From afar, the tent she had just constructed appeared indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle flora. In fact, she thought to herself, I’ll have to take careful note of its surrounding landmarks if I’m to find it again… After taking a moment to carefully study her immediate area, noting a particularly mossy boulder only a few feet away from her camp, she turned her gaze over to the metal and plastic watercraft she had arrived in. Its exterior had been painted a dull gray with a motley of military green intermixed with its rather unappealing color scheme. Despite having been designed to match the surrounding jungle, the glossy waterproofing it had been covered with caught the sun in a dazzling reflection. Janet made her way towards the boat, nervously glancing behind her shoulder at the looming watchtowers that just poked over the canopy of the jungle behind her. I really hope they haven’t been looking in this direction for the past hour… Stretching her arms above her head and behind her back as she strode purposefully towards the craft, she limbered herself up in preparation for a grueling haul towards the jungle’s edge. With several undignified grunts of effort and a lot of panting later, Janet was grateful to find that after pulling the boat onto the looser, dryer sand her efforts became significantly less labored. Half an hour later, Janet stood with her arms on her hips as she squinted hard at the boat, which was now concealed under a hefty amount of fallen branches and leaves. Sure… If you look at it long enough you’ll notice something is amiss… But that’s only if you expect to see something out of place. Contenting herself with the thought that after a day or two worth of tropical jungle rainfall the hidden boat would sink more organically into its surroundings, Janet waded through the sand back towards her tent. After a few minutes of anxiously scanning the jungle, her eyes alighted on the boulder she had set as her landmark and soon enough she was crawling inside of her makeshift abode. It was getting late, the sun began to cast the western part of the island with rosier hues, shifting from its lustrous, daytime yellow to a soft, warm red. The inside of her tent was growing darker at a much faster rate than the beach outside, so Janet quickly prepared her evening meal with what little light she had left. She opened one of the bento boxes she had purchased at the harbor, knowing she would have to savor the first few meals on the island as she went through her fresh rations before she would have to resort to eating dried food, and the few canned goods she had brought alone that would have to be consumed cold. Looking up, she took a minute to meditate before she dug in. I actually made it… Too concerned with ensuring that her base of operations was set up quickly and undetected, Janet had not allowed herself a moment to truly let the enormity of where she was impact her fully. She was on ‘the Isle of Foxes,’ the very one that her father had read to her when she was just a little girl. A giddy expression spread across her face as she looked down at her meal, shaking her head in jubilant disbelief. She had done it, years of university with her nose stuck in dusty books followed by a delicate campaign to convince a sovereign nation to allow her to set foot on one of their sacred islands. And she had managed to accomplish it all. Janet Parker did her best to compose herself then, not wanting to let her sense of victory and relief become premature. She still had a job to do, after all. With any luck, she would be able to use the week’s worth of time her limited supplies allowed her to glean enough data from the island’s inhabitants to serve as a milestone for the entire field of anthropology. Reaching forward, the young researcher undid one of the flaps of her tent to reveal the setting sun, gently descending down into the giant ocean pool beneath it. That day’s sunset serving as her evening meal’s entertainment, Janet took her time slowly picking up clumps of rice and pieces of pork dumpling with her chopsticks. The last hints of the sun had just barely disappeared beneath the horizon when she finished. Shrugging off her travel ware, Janet stripped down into her underwear before nestling herself into her sleeping bag. The inside of the tent was a little warm for her comfort, but she knew better than to fall asleep exposed to the elements. The temperature would drop quickly, and she would not have her dream field expedition burdened by a head cold. Janet allowed her eyelids to grow heavy, taking in slow, deep breaths as she calmed herself down to further expedite the onset of sleep. It was difficult at first, her mind was a whirl with the following day’s duties and plans. But eventually, she found herself nodding off, the muffled sounds of jungle insects and nightlife creeping into her dreams as she dozed off into a tired, deep slumber. ⤐ ⬷ Janet crept through the jungle foliage at a crouch. Every dozen steps or so, she would glance around furtively in the canopy above before slowly standing up to locate the beaten path she was trailing. The explorer had to take care to not walk on any of the jungle paths, as the likelihood of discovery by one of the island’s inhabitants taking the same path was too much to risk. This made the going very slow, as Janet had to take time to not only maneuver around obstacles such as gnarled roots or dense vegetation, but she had to do so without making too much noise or damaging the plants. This proved more challenging than she had originally anticipated, and sweat beaded her brow as the morning slowly shifted into afternoon, the island’s temperature rising as the sun continued to bombard it with summer’s radiation. As she ventured through, Janet’s eyes alighted on the various dried grass and wooden effigies that stood erected in the trees above, or swinging gently from a motley of vines like marionette puppets. Janet keenly noted that each of the wooden figurines appeared each to sport a distinct set of pointed ears at the top of their heads. This fact alone restirred the excitement of the butterflies inside of Janet’s stomach. | Still, despite the discomfort and slow traversing, Janet knew she was making progress. Her nostrils had caught a whiff of smoke, telling her that she must be getting closer to the primitive encampment. The smell of cooked fish and a strange, pungent herb had accompanied the woodsmoke. They must be good trappers… There haven’t been any reports of seeing them in the waters… Janet reflected to herself, inching her around an overturned log. Eager to see for herself, the anthropologist stopped as she spotted the back wall of one of the huts about a hundred meters away from her. Walking towards the village on the ground was far too dangerous, and Janet glanced around the surrounding trees as she decided that now would be a perfect time to execute phase two of her covert observation plan. She stretched once more, recalling the advice of her acrobatics instructor from her youth as she assessed which tree would be easiest for her to scale. Her gaze settled on a particularly large looking tree, covered in a dense blanket of vines and moss that would serve well for gripholds and traction. With a muffled grunt, Janet grabbed the nearest vine and hoisted herself up, her ankles gripping the leafy rope tightly as she began to ascend. One hand over another, Janet felt the excitement of the ascent course through her, quickly replacing the idle boredom of having to slowly sneak through the tropical forest. Janet reached for the branch above her, her knuckles turning white as her fingers gripped the aged bark enough to support her entire weight. Grabbing onto another part of the same branch with her other hand, she felt her grip loosen as her heart skipped a beat. Bits of decayed bark fell down to the forest floor below as she swayed precariously, holding on with only four of her fingers; the foliage below appeared dangerously far beneath her. She gasped, only just barely stifling the yell of fright that had welled up in her chest as she remembered where she was and what she was doing. Silently, her face contorted into a pained expression of effort and desperation. She swung herself from side to side, before reaching up and grabbing the branch once more with her other hand. To her relief, the wood held, and bit by bit she was able to haul herself up until she kneeled safely on the tree’s rigid bough. Janet took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving as her nerves calmed themselves down from the fight or flight response. Trying not to think about the fact that she had almost plummeted to her death, Janet quickly shuffled along the branch and began to make her way slowly through the canopy in the direction of the primitive village. A quarter of an hour later, she had closed the hundred meter distance. The smell of cooking fires and sizzling meat now punctuated the air, causing Janet’s mouth to water. Whatever the island’s inhabitants were cooking up, it smelled delicious. The anthropologist almost regretted having to conduct the research undetected, as she would have loved in that moment to break bread with the cooks of the island. She could now hear muffled voices, remarkably high-pitched for a collection of human primitives. Janet did her best to control her breath, her vision still obstructed by the large hut in front of her. She would have to creep along the branch, and do her best to glean what she could from the leafy canopy above. Janet’s right hand crept slowly into her satchel, ruffling around its contents until her fingers came into contact with the cool metal of her camera. Quietly, she took it out of her bag. She was about to begin a slow, methodical crawl across the tree’s branch when she heard the distinct sound of rustling leaves to her left. Before she could react, a voice that sounded like a squeaky child’s inquiry almost caused her to fall out of the tree in surprise. Janet’s head whipped around towards the source of the voice. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes growing wide as she beheld the sight in front of her. Standing on two paws at roughly a meter in height, with a blood orange colored fur coat, was a fox.
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Hi everyone! I am back from my writing slumbers and have a story that I had a dream about the other day that had somehow turned into 100+ pages. Please forgive me for not writing actively on my other stories... I have a bad habit of writing for stories and then pausing as I actively write for another. Hopefully this story doesn't put me in the writer's time out corner🪑😇 This is definitely a 'slow burn' story that sets the stage for the rest of the book and the payout may just be worth it, you'll just have to find out for yourself. *cue the evil laughter behind computer monitor* I hope you enjoy my story of warlocks, creatures and diapers as much as I have writing it and I love hearing theories and comments along the way in posting. Enjoy!💖 The Synopsis No One Asked For[but I wrote it anyways]: Wren Smith gets accepted into a 4 year international college exchange program that she had always dreamed of her whole human existence called Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures located in the country of Centaurus. In her journey to a completely different world of warlocks, werewolves and vampires, she meets Nate Seastone who has unusual relationship goals, a psychopathic ex and a dark past. Things take a sinister twist as she navigates being a human in a mostly all creature and warlock school as she unlocks secrets to sinister things she didn't ask to discover between the school's history and her kind. Warnings: Dark nature content[not sure how to word that], bullying and detailed sexual scenes[smut] Does contain in later chapters: Diapers, CGL relationship, ABDL, BDSM, spanking Book of Warlocks, Creatures & Diapers : Vol I PRELUDE It’s incredulous to think that for a good few centuries, the rest of the world didn’t know the United Lands existed. The continent of Centureon, comprised of the countries of Centaurus and Rune, were stumbled upon in 1492 by Christopher Columbus, yet never spoken about in human history books because a historical warlock known as Theadore Stonewall II found him, erased his memory and sent him, his crew and his boat to North America instead. It wasn’t until the next century when people began migrating from Europe to America that Centureon lost its anonymity the warlocks and creatures wanted to keep as long as possible, yet it was inevitable that a country with millions of creatures and beautiful lands would be found eventually. From the dawn of time, warlocks, witches and creatures had always been mistreated, murdered and misunderstood that the old warlocks and creatures knew if word got out to the human race, their existence may be compromised. Little did they know, it was bound to happen that the human race would find them and try to make them close to extinct. Warlocks and creatures already lived amongst the human race all over the world, but the countries of Centureon knew about the horror stories and spread of misinformation about their kind that made the human race fear them. It was better, to the Centaurus and Rune countries, to hide for as long as they could and keep the peace within their own lands. As time went on and the United Nations and other countries found out about Rune and Centaurus, both countries were kept top secret in all countries. The United Nations wanted to hide the creatures that inhabited the lands as they thought revealing them would create mass panic and threaten the human race as it was. Warlocks and creatures didn’t want to fight, they asked for peace multiple times and the United Nations was ignorant to the possibility of creatures, witches and warlocks living peacefully among humans. Yet… these creatures already lived among them, much to the human race’s fears of inability to cohabitate that had little to no evidence to support. As the humans found out creatures were living amongst them, many altered, misinformed and over dramatized stories in newspapers released about witches, werewolves, vampire killings and abductions. These fictionally based stories spread like wildfire around the United States of America in the 1600’s and the United Nations came together and agreed that if these newfound ‘creatures’ survived any further they could threaten the human race’s very existence. Widespread panic circulated around to other countries and the whole world began fearing creatures that supposedly could be humans next door neighbors one day. The decisions were based on ignorance, fears and prejudice as the United Nations decided to invade Centaurus and Rune in 1702, historically termed in Centureon the Human Invasions of 1702, without warning, terrorizing the continent with ships docking and pillaging of its lands. At this time, the human race was much larger than all the warlocks and creatures combined. The only thing that made sense for most creatures was too either migrate or protect the land from the sudden killing, raping and torment of its innocent civilians. Many of Centaurus and Rune’s inhabitants decided to flee the country. This caused the Great Migration of Creatures in 1702 where millions of witches, warlocks and creatures as they fled the countries to live in hiding all over the world as Rune was put close to extinction within a few years. Although they had warlocks, witches and creatures, Centaurus and Rune were both peaceful lands that practiced magic to protect and help others, not to hurt as they were attempting to show the human race they should not be feared. There were always dark blood warlocks and witches who were of the evil kind, but few and far between that when armies of human troops came in with muskets, rifles, canons and unknown weapons to Centaurus and Rune, the native creatures to the lands had never seen such weapons, let alone know what they did until they were wounded or killed. Due to Centaurus’s large warlock and witch demographics, they were able to protect most of Centaurus in the 1700’s. Centaurus lost a tenth of their population and lands but quickly reclaimed their lands. Rune, however, could not protect itself as the population of warlocks was low, the magical creatures who were there were a majority of peacemakers or healers. When they attempted to ask for peace, it was quickly denied to their dismay as whole towns and villages were shocked by the merciless invaders. Villages and towns across Rune were pillaged, raped and burned down over a stretch of a few weeks time. Innocent civilians and their children were burned on stakes or hanged and those spared from the mass murdering of Rune’s population were kidnapped and put into labor camps. The rest of it’s demographics were harmless creatures without magical abilities that were slaughtered without reason. A good two-thirds of Rune’s creatures were killed from the invasion that silently spread across the country. More troops of the British and United States came over to Rune and terrorized the creatures on it’s soil along with the few witches and warlocks that remained after many years of fighting. Parts of Rune were colonized in the 1710’s by the British until the United Lands armies grew in the larger country of Centaurus and reclaimed the land with their most powerful warlocks, witches and creatures protecting Rune. After years of hearing of the pillaging, terrorizing and mass murders of Rune with two-thirds of the population either migrating or being slain, Centaurus decided to stop protecting without harming the invaders and go on the defensive to push the invaders out of their Lands. The first World War, that was unknown to most of the human race, started and ended in 1713 when the United Lands decide to fight back from Rune reclaiming what was left of its lands. In Centaurus history books, there was a distinct shift in the war and who was winning when the most powerful Centaurus and Rune warlocks and witches came together to create the Magistrate’s Army. They fought back in large numbers and reclaimed what was theirs within months of combat with the human race. Rumors got out about a group of witches and warlocks comprised of both white and dark blood magic descent that were stronger than any other type of magical beings coming together to end the suffering of the United Lands. It was unheard of for white and dark blood witches and warlocks to work together, yet this special circumstance created an alliance that warlocks and witches all over the continent talked about for centuries. The UN troops began retreating as they realized quickly that Magistrate Army was much stronger than any weapon possessed in the 1700’s. The armies couldn’t even kill a witch or warlock without putting them on the stake and burning them. News got back to the United Nations as the Magistrate Army became tremendously powerful and the US army along with the British armies were sent back home in small quantities of survivors with gruesome stories of watching warlocks, witches and creatures mercilessly terrorizing soldiers, bending swords and stopping bullets, pikes and cannon balls mid-air. The horror stories of witches and warlocks performing full moon rituals on soldiers were spread rampant along with other horrors following the war with the warlocks and creatures. The human race learning that although small in numbers, the United Lands showed they were a force to not be meddled with ever again. In 1730’s, years after the war ended, Magistrate Gildroy III the Great made a peace treaty with the United Nations and the United Lands. The United Lands agreed that migration to or from Centaurus or Rune was forbidden. Both groups agreed to keep Centaurus and Rune separated from the human race. Gildroy was able to keep sailors and migrators away from the country with his fleet of mermen and army of warlocks who protected the United Lands. The United Nations and surrounding countries were able to hide creatures for a few years from the human race, stating that newspapers of werewolf, vampires and witches were made-up stories. Although both the United Lands and United Nations tried to hide Centaurus and Rune, it was not possible anymore to keep hidden a whole country that spanned half the Atlantic ocean as a secret to the human race. After many sightings of ‘aliens’, lost ships in the Bermuda Triangle, witch trials, books written about witches and wizards, newspaper articles, police cases, tales of vampires or werewolves and other incidences in the early 1800’s the countries of Rune and Centaurus were rediscovered by the human race in newspapers around the world. The world became a huge panic where allover people were afraid from the misinformation about vampires, witches, mermen, werewolves and other creatures. The general population did not want anything to do with these creatures or to even visit Centureon in the 1800’s. The creatures that had migrated to the US and other countries who did decide to reveal themselves were segregated, taken into slavery, locked up in prisons, hung, experimented on, abducted or murdered. The whole response to any creature or warlock was of pure anger and hatred that caused a huge rift between the human race and creatures from Rune and Centaurus. Up until 1853, immigration to and from Centureon was banned for creatures and humans. During this time, millions of creatures and warlocks that had already migrated found home to many parts of North America, Asia, South America and Europe as they lived in hiding. From those in hiding, it was discovered in the mid-1800’s that so many creatures and warlocks had carried children with humans. Half-humans were at high risk as not only did the human race fear or hate them, but so did creatures. Migration was finally allowed after so many hate crimes were made against creatures or half-humans and the United States and other countries found there weren’t only a few, but millions of creatures already living amongst them that wanted to visit back home or move back to Centaurus or Rune. Little did these countries know, these creatures inhabited the world for thousands of years amongst the human race. This movement of human race acceptance was called the Creature Awakening where humans finally acknowledged the creature race and began to start accepting creatures into their cultures. Although there was still a long road ahead in progression of views and stifling racism, this was a huge push forward in peace between races. By the early 1900’s after migration to and from the United Lands was allowed in most countries, World War 1 happened and the United Nations grew a relationship with the United Lands, enlisting the Magistrate’s Army into the war. In every war following, the United Nations and United Lands worked together and slowly built trust between the two once opposing forces. Many years passed and from millions of mixings of creatures, warlocks and humans, hatred between the human race and creatures or warlocks had calmed down quite a bit, yet the racism never went away fully as it was still taught in most continents. By the end of the 1900s and early 2000’s, many programs were instated to mix the cultures of humans, creatures and warlocks. Although things have calmed down between the races, there is still a large mountain to climb in racism between creatures and humans. As time has gone on, the pendulum of hatred has swung more for the hatred of the human race, as they had almost made Rune extinct of it’s creatures and endangered trolls, pegasai, dwarfs and it’s rare magical creatures with one invasion in the 1700’s that had almost wiped out the creatures of Rune’s existence entirely. Chapter 1: Warlocks, Creatures and Humans, Oh My! Wren’s moss green eyes looked out the airplane window to the beautiful hills, valleys and mountains of Loch Valley, Centaurus of the United Lands. Her curious eyes grazed over the distant hills and valleys where she could see a flight of witches and warlocks gliding above the trees together in a pack. Wren smiled in awe and wonder, always wishing since a little girl that she could fly like a witch. She always, admittedly, envied her neighbor down the street who was half witch and had flying lessons with her dad. She ended up in a tree her first flight but Wren would have paid anyone in the world to be just like her neighbor, even if she’d ended up in a tree or with a broken arm. She frowned and looked back down to her history book of Centaurus, knowing that would never be her fate. All she ever wished growing up was to be some sort of creature, whether that had been a mermaid, witch, dwarf, gollum, fairy, vampire or even a troll. Wren just wanted to be something that wasn’t a human. Gross. That was probably the worst race to be in this day and age. As she read her history book, she couldn’t imagine how it was like as a creature to feel such fear of being kidnapped or killed for being something that’s not human. There are hundred of documented real life horror stories in America, where Wren was born, about witch trials, murders of full werewolf or vampire families, abductions and experiments on creatures. That’s only one country and the stories across the world are equally as volatile and despicable. Luckily, those things didn’t happen anymore, at least not often. There’s always some Ted Bundy who has a weird thing for creatures or witches unfortunately. Also, creatures aren’t victims, they’ve killed humans too. However, the millions of creatures and warlocks slaughtered for pure racism of creatures will always supersede the current day issues. Millions were killed at the hands of the human race in 1702 in genocide by the US and British army human invasions. Millions. Wren was disgusted by that thought alone and that her ancestors could do such things to innocent creatures. To say she hated her ancestors was an understatement at this point after traveling 10 hours on the plane and rereading the dark history of Centaurus and Rune inflicted by the human race. Wren could see why creatures and warlock have been known to be rude to humans. Lucky for Wren Smith, she decided to do an international exchange program for 4 years at Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures. Maybe not so lucky... yet Wren’s deep desires to be close to warlocks and creatures ran so strong she’d put aside everything to be where she felt she belonged. Ever since Wren was a young girl, she knew that Idaho, United States was not where she belonged. It was true as everyone presumed of Idaho: all we have is cornfields and potatoes out there! Wren thought. She absolutely despised everything there and found herself bored 9 times out of 10. The one fun thing was having a neighborhood friend who was part witch. Her name was Jade who Wren went to school with. They eventually blossomed into best friends throughout the years until their friendship abruptly ended when Jade and her parents moved to Glades, Rune when the girls turned 12. Wren remembers crying for almost a month straight when Jade moved and as dramatic as that sounded, losing your best friend was a big deal as a kid. It felt like the end of the world to Wren and she had close to no friends after Jade left. Wren was always the ‘weird girl’ who had a ‘witch friend’ and Wren knew the small-minded classmates would never understand her the way Jade did. The day she moved, Wren remembered writing in her diary, “When I turn 18, I’m moving the HELL out of Idaho and going to Centaurus! Idaho can kiss my ass!!” If you’re wondering, yes Wren did, in fact, write those curse words when she was 12 and luckily her parents never read her diary… or at least she thought they didn’t. “Flight attendants, prepare for landing.” The pilot stated to the passengers and attendants. Wren sighed as she closed her book, stowing it away in her backpack. She looked to her right where a pair of eyes were glancing at Wren and she met them. A part werewolf part human woman's dark brown eyes were looking at her. Wren smiled politely to her as the woman looked forward with a small huff in annoyance. Creatures really hate humans still, huh? She was half human, where does she feel the right to judge! Wren thought to herself and frowned, looking back out the window. It was weird leaving home, the United States. Wren had never left the US, let alone to a country that hates the human race, even more so Americans. Wren didn’t think most countries liked Americans to begin with, let alone human Americans to further complicate things for her. In Centaurus, it’s a known fact humans are more susceptible to hate crimes and harassment. Creatures don’t like humans and humans don’t like creatures. That’s been a known conflict since the beginning of time. Wren knew that just maybe she was the weird human that liked creatures and wanted to be one. The best person Wren ever knew was a witch, after all. She saved Wren’s life once and Wren would never forget that day. When Wren was 11 about to turn 12, the girls were playing on the bridge in the forest near their houses. Wren jumped on the railing of the bridge and stuck her arms out, yelling, “Maybe I can fly like you Jade!” Jade’s dark brown eyes looked concerned as she tugged on the hem of Wren’s blue jeans, “Don’t be stupid, get down from there!” “I just want to be a witch like you one day, Jade. Maybe I can if I try! Don’t you remember that book we read about the girl who didn’t know she was a witch and found out by falling? Maybe that’s me!” Wren said, walking one foot in front of the other on the railing as she swayed, almost falling to the side with the river below. “Wren! Stop it! You’re scaring me and I want to have an ALIVE best friend, not a DEAD best friend!!”Jade said frantically on the bridge below Wren. “I’m going to tell on you if you don’t come down!” She stomped her foot bossily while crossing her arms. Wren smiled, knowing she was the brave, bold but stupid friend in that moment. She stood there, looking behind her one last time before deciding to get down. As she began lowering her foot, Wren’s heel somehow caught the nail of the bridges railing and it caused her balance to falter. She felt myself quickly lose gravity as her whole body fell backwards and Jade screamed, “WREN!!!” Her stomach tickled as she fell through the air. She closed her eyes as she awaited the cold water, yet time stood still and she felt nothing. Did I die? She thought as she opened her eyes and was levitating up and over to where the trees and grass was near the side of the river. She toppled onto the ground and rolled a few times. Wren got up, dusting off the dirt from her sweatshirt as Jade ran over and hugged her. “You dummy!! You almost died!” Jade said as she hugged Wren hard. “Thanks for saving me Jade, I’m so sorry!” Wren said, feeling a few tears go down her face from the stupid thing she almost did. Jade blinked at Wren as she pulled back and shook her head, “I, uh, didn’t do anything Wren.” She said, looking humbly down. Wren winked at her, “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” Jade was quiet about her magic abilities. Her parents didn’t want anyone in their school or neighborhood to know she was a witch. Most creatures kids from Centureon were bullied and that was the main reason her family kept it hidden. It was a secret Wren only knew about because Jade flew into her tree one evening with a yelp and that was the first time Wren and Jade met when her dad ran over to our house and apologized for Jade climbing on Wren’s backyard tree to Wren’s parents. Little did her dad know that Wren was on the second floor bedroom and was looking outside when Jade struck the tree near her bedroom. It looked like it hurt, that was for sure. Wren still didn’t know to this day who hurt worse that day, Jade or the tree. The airplane glided down as Wren gasped in awe at the city below of Aeradon, Dragonstone in Centaurus. She had only read in books about how beautiful the city was with it’s ancient skyscraper castles on hills that overlooked hundreds of villages, rivers and the water to the side of the city. Wren was sad to not see dragons circling the castles like in the childhood books she read as a kid but the beauty was enough to take her breath away. The plane passed over Dragonstone’s other outskirt villages further to the edge of where the cliffs met the sea. She felt the plane hit the ground as Wren smiled, getting giddy with excitement of the new life she had just began. Wren had been waiting for her entire human life to be in Dragonstone, Centaurus, let alone to be accepted to a school in Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures for a 4 year international exchange program. She frowned, remembering how sad her mom got when Wren told her. Her mom didn’t look at her and just went into her parent’s bedroom as Wren’s dad looked at her in the eyes and said, “I thought you were going to Harvard, you got accepted and the chance that people would die to have! I can’t believe you’re throwing away your life like this.” He said in disappointment, shaking his head and sighing. “Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures is a much more prestigious acceptance dad. Only 4 foreign exchange students are accepted per year and they hardly ever accept a full-blood human exchange student!” Wren grumbled, crossing her arms and shaking her head, annoyed with her parents and they’re obvious disappointment. Can’t they let her have one happy moment?! “Dragonstone is a dangerous place for humans, Guinevere. You never listen to me or your mother.” Wren knew it was serious disappointment when her dad said her real name that she hated hearing. Guinevere Smith. Ugh, she hated that name, reasons why she went by Wren. Her classmates growing up couldn’t say her full name so they called her Gwen, which Wren hated even more. That’s when she read a kids book in elementary school with a witch named Wren. That’s when she told her classmates and teachers that she went by Wren. Ever since then, Guinevere had been Wren, although her parents didn’t jump on board with the name change until a few years later. Now they only used her full name when she was in trouble. Her dad stood, not having any more of this conversation. Wren’s parents and her never saw eye to eye on things like this. They always warned her of creatures and magical beings, stating that they were malicious and hated humans. They never knew Wren’s best friend growing up was a witch, and she didn’t think she’d ever tell them. The more they warned me growing up about Centaurus and Rune, the more Wren knew she had to visit it to see herself. For 18 years Wren grew more and more curious, just wanting to prove her parents wrong about creatures and warlocks. Her best friend and her dad were creatures and she would not allow a stigma decide her own opinions. Wren finally was able to stand after ten minutes of waiting for the passengers to file out of the plane. She began to gather her items from the overhead compartment. Unfortunately, Wren was short and small framed that it didn’t help when she reached for her suitcase, struggling to grasp it. She stood on her tippy toes and grunted as she grabbed her suitcase handle and pulled, the momentum of her pull swinging Wren to the left a bit as she accidentally nudged the person directly behind her. The person muttered, “Fucking rude humans.” “Um, sorry.” Wren looked back at the middle aged warlock man behind her who had a satin black cloak and a dark brown disheveled pointed hat on. She blinked back her awe of being near a warlock and walked forward to out of the plane through customs and baggage claim as she tried to shake off the odd exchange. “Guinevere Marie Smith, what’s your purpose here and how long is your stay?” The merman customs officer asked as his light sea blue eyes shifted to Wren’s eyes, studying in curiosity. Wren pulled out her file from her backpack that her international counselor told her to show to customs, “I’m an international exchange student for Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures and will be here for 4 years.” She said a touch boastfully, handing him her files. He looked them over with an annoyed glance and handed them back to her with her passport, waiving Wren away, “Next.” Wren shoved her file back into her backpack and grabbed her luggage, shaking off his rudeness as she walked between throngs of people. She tried not to glance at the different creatures of mermen, trolls, gollums, warlocks, witches, vampires, dwarves, fairies and werewolves that threaded through the area or gawk too long. A lot of people looked like humans or half-humans that walked past as she went to the outside to find the shuttle to the train. A hour passed filled with wrong turns and Wren finally found a train car that directly took her to Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures. She stowed her items away and sat as someone poked their head into the car, “Do you mind if I share a car with you? It’s kind of full everywhere else.” Wren nodded with a smile, meeting a set of light blue eyes that looked human. She was a bit relieved that she was human, given that all Wren’s other encounters were rude with anyone who wasn’t also human. That was becoming more apparent the more minutes she spent in Centaurus. As the girl was putting away her items overhead, another knock sounded and a large guy who had to duck into the car peaked in, “Can we join you? If there’s room, uh, of course.” His eyes were a light yellow and his skin was a slight tint of green with bumps over his arms. He was part troll from what Wren could tell but very polite with a thick Scottish accent. “Of course.” Wren tried to give a friendly nod to the seats in front of her as he ducked to get inside and helped the other human girl with her items overhead. A smaller fairy girl, about Wren’s height, with light glowing skin came inside behind him. She had light pink almost white, long wavy hair and quietly trotted behind the half troll guy as he helped her with her luggage storage too. He sat down on the farthest corner from Wren and the fairy girl sat next to Wren. A floral scent reached Wren’s nostrils and she smiled in nostalgia of going through gardening shops as a kid with her mother. There's an awkward silence in the train car until the half troll spoke, “My names Frederick Ploffploof. Half-troll if anyone’s wondering, first year and from Luss, Scotland. Nice to meet everyone.” He says with a deep voice and heavy accent, awkwardly looking between the three girls who are silent. He has a humor about him when he talks that Wren almost wants to giggle at but decided not to as she didn’t want to come across as a ‘fucking rude human’ again. The human girl across from Wren went next, “Hi, I’m Olivia Appleton, from Virginia, the States. First year, human.” The fairy girl spoke with a bubbly voice, “Hai hai! I’m Pixie Lightwood and I’m a fairy from Glowfield, Centaurus and second year.” A lot of fairies came from Glowfield or suburbs surrounding, Wren was going to guess that but didn’t want to say it or presume anything. Wren smiled, trying to be friendly and hopefully not weird by how giddy she was to meet others, especially who were creatures, “Wren Smith. First year, human unfortunately as well.” The group laughs as Wren spoke and she continued, “From Idaho, the States.” “Against most judgements cast against humans, I quite prefer them over witches any day.” Pixie said as she touched Wren’s arm in a friendly nudge and Wren looked down at the gentle touch that glistened after her hand left Wren’s skin. “Oops! I haven’t had that happen before besides in my community, I’m so sorry!” Pixie said, trying to wipe off the glisten and light glitter that was on Wren’s skin from her touch, yet, when she tried to wipe it off it caused even more glitter. Frederick rumbled in a laugh with Olivia as Wren tried dusting off the literal fairy dust, “It’s fine I got it! No worries.” Wren giggled with Pixie as she met her light pink and slightly yellow-green flecked eyes that glowed to Wren. She paused, “You said that doesn’t happen often?” “No, I mean, only to other fairies or pure people. If you're full human, that means I can trust you is all.” Pure? What did that mean? Wren thought. “I wouldn’t say I’m pure, maybe just dumb. Also, I’m for sure full human.” Wren says with a last giggle as she dusts off the glitter that doesn’t seem to go away. If she wasn’t human, she’d know for certain by this point in her life. She could not even count how many spells and potions she’s tried to cast in her life. Also, not to mention how many times she’s ran and jumped with a broomstick, only to face plant completely. If she were a fairy and could fly, Wren would have by now. She’s 100% human, which was unfortunate to Wren to say the least. Wren chalked it up to maybe that she was ‘pure’… whatever that meant. Olivia squeals from across from Wren, “Touch me next! I want to know!” “Me too!” Frederick rumbles as he sticks out his arm with Olivia and the group all laughs in the train car together. Pixie touches Olivia and Frederick and nothing happens. “Isn’t ‘purity’ like a virginity thing?” Frederick asks in his thick accent to Pixie. The train finally begins moving as it seems the train filled fully and students are walking in the hallways trying to find seats still. Wren blushes for a moment, hoping no one can see as she felt called out. Luckily, Pixie’s answer comes to her rescue. Pixie begins laughing loudly and shaking her head as her eyes are watery from laughing when she calms down, “No, purity is by-“ Someone open the car door and cuts Pixie off, “Excuse me, sorry to bother but-“ A very tall, handsome human-looking man with medium to long copper brown hair pushed back but falling carelessly to the side of his head enters the car. His sea blue eyes meet Wren’s and she almost drops her jaw and drools by how gorgeous he is. He was one of the most attractive men Wren had ever laid eyes on from his strong jawline down to his biceps and muscles carved through his black long sleeve shirt he war wearing. Why was Wren so suddenly flustered as he locked eyes with her? She had never felt so off-put by a simple question. Wren already assumed he was so far out of her league that she kept her mouth closed as his eyes left Wren’s and looked around the car, seeing it was full. Frederick took two seats easily and the other 3 seats were taken by the girls. Wren wished it was a six seat car to invite this mysterious man inside. Wren gulped, knowing that a beautiful fairy was next to her and another attractive girl sat across her way. Wren looked with a fleck of jealousy to Olivia who had light brown, long hair and beautiful blue eyes. In comparison, Wren had long dark brown, almost black hair and moss green eyes that she always felt she looked so plain and never anything special. She couldn’t help feeling like she was but a speck in the sea of women in that moment. She never even had a love interest before, yet for some reason this random beautiful man shows up and she was instantly into him. Never had she ever gotten so flustered by 6 words. God help her. “It looks like this car’s full, maybe next one.” He murmured to the person behind him in his slight Centaurus accent. He looked back over to the group and somehow his beautiful sea blue eyes fell to Wren instead of anyone else in the car, as if she were the only one inside it, “Sorry again.” He nodded to the rest of the group with a charming smile and closed the door. Wren blushed down at her hands, feeling dumb that she just stared at him without responding once, how could she be so stupid! That’s how Wren successfully doesn’t get a boyfriend. It wasn’t like she was looking to have one these next four years but she wouldn’t have been against having one if it were with someone as attractive as him. “Who was that fine piece of man?” Olivia blurted after he left and they all burst out laughing. “Looks can be deceiving, trolls are much better specimens of men just so you ladies know.” Frederick spoke and paused for a moment as he sighed, “Gentle giants as some would say.” He straightened out his shirts as they all laughed at his gentle giant comment. Pixie stopped laughing, the only second year among them, and said, “That’s Nate Seastone. I’m not sure if he’s single though, last year he was with one of the Sinister Twins which is, honestly, a huge red flag.” Olivia crossed her arms, “Bummer, he was hot.” Wren gulped, not saying anything as she now knew she wasn’t the only one who had a thing for him. “Who’s the ‘Sinister Twins’?” Wren asked, looking to Pixie. Pixie shook her head, blinking back a serious flicker in her eyes that Wren caught, looking down, “Sorry, I just don’t want to spread anything about them or gossip. They are just not good witches and I suggest steering clear of them. That’s all I’ll say.” An awkward silence took over the car as she said not good witches. Wasn’t it illegal to us magic to harm others? Wren thought to herself, hearing that Dragonstone kicked out people for that. She thought she was going to a safe school, not a we’ll-sweep-things-under-the-table type of school. Wren gulped, looking out the window as the train went over the edge of the cliffs that looked out to the sea. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder if she made the right decision going to Dragonstone School of Warlocks & Creatures considering she was not, in fact, a warlock nor creature and was getting the impression humans really didn’t belong there.
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I just wanted to post this in the critique section, as a way to let people know that I will make my first attempt at writing a story very shortly. The posting below has been cross posted in brian's place form as well as in the critique section. The post below basically speaks for itself, And that is basically what I want to do, is to write a story that is a fantasy of mine that will allow me to be the character that it is being done to or looked after. My first premise would be that there would be several of mine that I have met here, and that they would be a part of the story. I'm not sure how many ladies I would want in the story, but the idea here is that I wanna try to put some of them together, as a part of what I consider to be my fantasy. the post below should be able to tell anyone who is interested what my intentions are, because basically I do not want to violate daily diapers rules or policies with my first story, since breaking rules would be dealt with harshly and immediately. I think the premise is sound, I just want to make sure that people know of my intention, and hopefully writing the story will be fun for me to do. Question: how in the world do you center text in the text box? I'm not sure if I should be using something like FASS post editor to post. I did not see the centering or the right or left align controls in the editor box above So I'm asking that question @Elfy or @DailyDi, have I been missing something Or is it hiding? Comments on the idea are welcome here! I have also cross posted as I said to my private Forum, where are my members of that form can read it as well, but wanted to post it out here so people know of my intention, hopefully you guys will enjoy the story as well as I do writing it. ~Brian~ Good afternoon all! I know that I have stated that I want to write a story that I've been thing about for a long time. to that end, very shortly I shall begin the process of writing that story. the story will be about I dream I've had about an encounter with ladies, where I as the main character end up getting shown what full relaxation means. being stressful in life, there's a lot of things that can bother you when things when things don't go exactly the way you think they should, or when things happen that are out of your control. The story will be that type of a story: Everyone knows me as me as an individual that is a hard worker conscientious always willing to go the extra mile, And sometimes what I do is I overdo it, and I don't take the time to be able to relax to the fullest extent possible, and sometimes what I have to do is I have to take steps to make sure that happens. This story will be around that philosophy. a hard working man that needs a vacation or a hard working man that deserves a well azerd vacation, and ends up getting the Opportunity to not only meet a nice girl, but to end up being invited to her house for a nice dinner and a together. little do I know however, how important this encounter will be. All through my working life I have worked so hard sometimes that I forget that you need to be able to take stock and calm down and just take a look at the world around you and be able to smell the roses. me being a hard worker the premise will be will be that I finally take the time to talk to one of my good friends, who basically offers me the chance of a lifetime to be able to relax and be able to have the time the time to enjoy someone's company and be waited on hand and foot, because they think that would be helpful, and it's also something that they said that they would like to do. When they're finished, I don't have anything to worry about, but little do I know how important this encounter will be in making my dream my dream come true. As I said, this story will be coming shortly. I will also try to make other stories that are similar in in scope to the one that I plan on writing now. each time I write a story, I will post it here first, and then when I believe that it is OK, I will post it out on the completed stories page, unless of course there are more parts to the story, and that will depend on how daily diapers user base and my friends respond to my writing ability. i've always wanted to be in a position where a dream comes true because of an opportunity that comes along once in a lifetime, and this type of a story is the type of story where the characters in the story have a genuine interest in my well being and being able to see that I am a sweet guy, and they want me to be able to not worry about anything. When they're finished, this will be a part of that particular storyline, because the idea here is hardworking men deserve the best, And these ladies want to give it to me. It is my hope that people will think that the story is cool, and that it is some that people will enjoy reading., This will be the first story that I've ever written online So I ask you're indulgence because I'm not sure exactly how this will work, but I have a good feeling about this, and I'll make sure that the people who are part of the story are mentioned appropriately, however I'm not sure how many characters will be a part of the story and that's part of the Logistics. hope fully those who are interested in my idea will read the story and find it interesting and informative, as well as something that will allow to express dreams that I have been having that make me feel good inside. it's always good to have good friends, and good thoughts, in this world is 1 hell of a mess, so it's always good to have some place that is a fall back position. A story like this would be that situation because I would really like to have something like what happens in my story actually happened to me in real life but we all know that real life dictates different things, and most and most of the stories you write are based on fantasy, And I guess this fantasy will be something that I would love to have happened. If the story goes well, you will probably see me do another story, but I will have to figure out how far to go with each one. hopefully I get plenty of feedback so I know exactly what's going on, but I'll let you know when that happens. Brian
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Incomplete | In-progress This is generated from a "what if" idea The Diaper dimension as portrayed by many is too harsh This idea is about a flipped world where the decision of an Amazon brought about a rude shift in the power dynamic between the Amazon, 'Tweeners and Littles alike. Plot Settings: Lozali: Future Amazonia by a century Amazonia: Here we have our lovely diaper dimension Earth: Our dear Earth NB: 'Lozali' is made up from Amazonia and Libertalia LIttle scenes: Moved to https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/57308-idea-adoption-thread/&do=findComment&comment=2046649 Updated Version there ☝️
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Chapter 1 Scott could hardly contain his giddiness as he turned his steering wheel to make a left at the intersection. After several weeks of careful planning, scheming, checking, and rechecking, he finally had a free weekend for himself. He had spent those weeks ordering discrete packages filled with supplies of a particular nature and tinkering in his garage on a device that he hoped would be able to fulfill his wildest fantasies. He could feel his heart pound in his chest as he put his blinker on and changed lanes, wanting to get home as soon as legally possible. Scott had had a great week at work, his boss had been admiring the white leopard's progress for a while now. He had recently designed a filing system that, according to his calculations, had increased the company’s data storage system by a whole 12.4%. The subsequent increase in efficiency had also increased his paycheck to a much sizable amount, which he had recently been putting to good use. Scott was a brilliant engineer and computer programmer, his passion for creation had brought him to work for Sky-TEC industries, a company that specializes in creating computers whose processing power and ability to complete tasks in incredibly low amounts of time had brought them up to one of the best technology companies in the world. But as brilliant as this company was, Scott was just a little bit more brilliant. Scott had quite unmistakably come into contact with a piece of technology that was top secret and incredibly powerful. Many would use it for great evil, while some might use it to achieve near indestructibility. Scott however, wasn't particularly interested in any of those things. He had some very private tendencies that he had never shared with anyone since he was a child. Specifically, he loved indulging in infantile fantasies, imagining himself just like a little kid again. From feeling the warmth of a freshly soaked diaper, to the pleasurable struggle of being put in bondage whilst wearing a soiled diaper, unable to do anything about his current predicament, to the wonderful childlike freedom of just wearing a diaper and t-shirt whilst watching children's shows on TV. Scott had spent a good amount of time imagining exactly what he'd love to do to or by himself if he had the time and resources to fulfill his fantasies. Fantasies that he hoped would be fulfilled very soon. The leopard pulled into the driveway of his comfortable little home. It wasn't anything special, he had little furnishings to decorate it with, but it had what he liked to consider an "aesthetical amount of space". He turned off the engine, grabbed his shoulder bag, and exited the car, walking into his garage. He flicked on the lights, and as the light bulbs blinked awake the device that he'd spent months on putting together sat on his workshop table. To put it bluntly, Scott had been programming a device that would essentially stop time itself. Through a combination of biotechnology, an improbability-engine, and a calculator that essentially worked on the whimsical nature of the polarity of electrons whirling around in titanium atoms in the contraption, the device was able to access the particular genetic code of the user and ignore all cells with the sequence, then continue to all other organic matter and inorganic matter and "freeze them in place". Scott didn't fully understand it, but he knew how to put the parts together and calibrate the machine. One might think that experimenting with such a device would be incredibly risky, but Scott had that figured out as well. He had coded in a fail-safe into the device. If a large amount of cells of the individual who had activated the device began to shut down at a rapid enough pace indicating possible death, it would essentially reverse the freezing process restoring reality to normal. Scott picked up the device with baited breath. It didn't look like anything special, like a TV remote except with fewer buttons and what looked like more volume controls. He connected his phone to the remote and fed it information about the current time, position of earth relative to the sun, and relative temperatures around the world. He hoped that the device would be able to send out the proper frequency into the molecules around it, setting off the time freezing reaction properly. He knew that if it failed, it may fail spectacularly, possibly even harming him despite the fail safe. A green light on the device shone, indicating that it was ready to be activated. He closed his eyes, pressed his eyes shut, and pushed a large red button with his finger. A loud rushing sound echoed through his ears, he fell backwards sputtering and coughing, he felt as if everything in a single part of his body was getting lightly tickled with electricity, he yelled in alarm, but before he could yell for more than a second it all stopped. Scott looked around. Everything looked. . . normal. He went over to the garage switch and pressed it, a whirring sound came from the door as it opened. He padded outside and his jaw dropped. Birds hung eerily in the air, much like bricks don't. Leaves stood stalk still, frozen as a gust of wind was blowing through it. Scott fanned himself with a paw experimentally, looking at it as he felt the air particles against his whiskers and fur. He had done it. He had created a device that stopped time. It stopped time for everything and everyone! Everyone, except him. Scott hooted and hollered! He started running down the street, passing cars with passengers in them halfway through a sip of coffee, forming a word as they talked on the phones, or smiling jaws and maws agape as they sang to their favorite car songs. Scotts saw planes and clouds, unmoving in the sky, felt the warmth of the sun on his fur as it peeked behind a cloud, permanently, until adjusted by the remote of course. Scott stopped running in the middle of an intersection and turned around and around, taking in the view. He laughed, joyous that he had achieved something that most thought was only possible in sci-fi movies and fantasy novels. Suddenly, he remembered why he had gone so ridiculously out of his way with his invention. He turned tail sprinted back to his house and got quickly inside, closing his door, not bothering to lock it. Who would try bothering him now if every ‘who’ was frozen in time? He walked inside his sparsely furnished living room and opened one of the brown boxes he had sitting there. A fresh waft of baby powder and ointment met his feline nostrils as he admired the contents of the box. Within it lay several large, fluffy adult diapers, each themed with little cartoons of various baby animals wearing diapers. Some looked sleepy, others laughed in joy, while still others were too busy with a toy to do anything else. Scott shuddered with excitement and let out a shaky sigh. Finally, I can unwind like I've always wanted to. He thought, as his tail twitched in anticipation. He looked at the other boxes, knowing that what they contained would only increase the amount of fun he was about to have. He grinned, and speaking aloud to no one said, “It’s going to be a good weekend."
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IT: Infant Tech By Horatio Husky Commissioned by Bolt Chapter 1: The Office Bolt readjusted his glasses. This was a nervous habit of his, which he would perform with relative frequency whenever he was working with unruly code. Sat in front of his desk, garbed in his normal office attire of dress shirt, black dress pants, classy shoes, and stylish bowtie, the husky was deeply immersed within the contents of his computer screen. The husky’s office cubicle was relatively orderly; a Newton's cradle and Rubik’s Cube served as the only available knick-knacks. The husky knew full well that too much desk clutter was a prime environment for distraction. Sometimes, however, a little distraction was necessary to allow his mind to wander just far enough for him to be able to get some perspective. He had been staring at his computer screen for about two hours straight at that point, and despite the blue light filter in his glasses he could feel his warm, brown eyes beginning to dry up just a little bit. A semicolon… really… that was the error? A sense of weariness suddenly overcame the husky. Moving his right paw, he delicately stroked his keyboard a few times until he had typed in the correction to his code. Bolt leaned back in his chair. He pulled down softly on his one droopy ear, another habit he often performed when deep in coding contemplation. Unseen, conveniently hidden in the break room by drawn blinds, two felines stood holding respective mugs of coffee. A caracal and tiger, the two giant cat species had their attention focused on the husky through a break in the blinds which the tiger held slightly open with an extended claw. Yuri’s had a singular protracted claw, his other paw holding the mug of joe in his paw with a firm, confident grip. Cinder, on the other hand, appeared to be every semblance of calm, cool, and collected. He lounged leisurely against the countertop, gazing down the bridge of his nose at the same husky that had just now caught his feline companion’s attention. “Another office crush, Yuri?” Withdrawing his gaze momentarily from gazing between the break in the blinds, the tiger gave the caracal his best withering look. Which, coming from a tiger, is quite an intimidating experience. The desert cat was left unphased, however, as he had been at the end of such an unflattering glance more often than not. Idly, he took a sip from his coffee mug and cocked his head to the side, his long, pointed ears flopping to the side dramatically. “Oh don’t look so grumpy, kitty cat. Shall I bring out the ball of yarn so you can feel better?” Yuri, who had grown used to the unwavering confidence that the caracal seemed to have a true abundance of, chose to ignore the comment and turn his attention back to staring at the husky. From his vantage point, he could see that the husky appeared to be well distracted and in the midst of work. Having only recently quit his temping position at the company, the husky was now able to exercise his full work ethic with the accompaniment of financial compensation. At this rate, he would be employee of the month in no time. Yuri’s golden, feline eyes pierced through the husky with a predator-like ferocity. Something inside of the tiger told him that not all was what it seemed with the newest member of IT. It was while Cinder was idly browsing through his phone, disappointed that he was unable to get a rise out of his tiger friend when Yuri gasped. Cinder knew this was important. Deftly placing his mug of coffee on the counter he pushed himself off the counter in a quiet, controlled leap landing right next to the tiger. “What is it?” He whispered softly, his feline instincts kicking in as the two cats’ slitted eyes narrowed as they gazed at the oblivious canine. Bolt sighed, stood up, and turned around to pick up a small laptop on the desk behind him. As he did so, an uncharacteristically large bulge in his rear end pressed against the seam of his pants. Cinder’s mouth dropped wide open, an uncharacteristically surprised face coloring the feline’s sharp, noble features. Yuri simply smiled, chuckling softly under his breath which came as a deep rumble inside of the massive cat’s throat. He spoke under his breath. “We got ourselves another one…” “This is the second one this month! How do they keep falling into our paws like this?” Yuri shook his head, a gratified smile across his muzzle as he placed a heavy, reassuring paw on the smaller cat’s shoulder. “Alright, like we did last time. I’ve still got the carseat set up and he looks pretty gullible. I think we’ll be having some good fun tonight, kitten.” Cinder blushed slightly towards the end of the tiger’s comment, knowing full well what the larger cat was referring to. It wasn’t so long ago that he had been the subject of the tiger’s cleverly designed trap. Yuri turned around, in a series of purposeful movements he drained the remainder of his coffee into the sink before depositing his mug on the dirtied dish rack. Taking out his car keys, he placed them on the countertop before departing. His striped tail floating majestically behind him, the muscular feline shouldered his way through the door of the office kitchenette and made his way over to the husky’s cubicle. Cinder had picked up the car keys, slyly lowering them into his pocket before silently exiting after the tiger, making his way towards the building’s garage level. The image of confidence, Yuri loomed over the husky casting a shadow over him. Bolt took quick notice of this, and turned around in his seat to gaze up frightfully at the intimidating fur in front of him, blinking several times. “Uhm… Can I-” “Yes, you can. I’m Yuri. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The cat extended a massive paw towards the husky. Bolt, recovering quickly, smiled in kind and took it on his own, giving it a firm squeeze as he replied with a clarity in his voice that took even him by surprise. “Hi Yuri, I’m Bolt. The pleasure is all mine.” Confident little scrappy mutt, isn’t he? Ohhh I like him… This should be fun! Yuri’s smile broadened, now feeling a sense of genuine delight at having witnessed a confident introduction accompanied by a firm handshake. He didn’t much like wimps, even though he did enjoy putting them in their place. Cinder had shown significantly less bravado than the canine in front of him, and only after he had discovered the truth behind the tiger’s intentions did he warm up. No, this pup has spunk! It’ll be even more fun to see him crawl now… Still smiling, the tiger motioned with a jerk of his head towards the elevator that led to the garage level below. “Bolt, I’ve got a few computer towers in my car that I worked on over the weekend. I really would have no trouble transporting them myself, but if you come along it’ll only take one trip. How about we use it as an excuse to take a break from work with a little aerobic exercise and a friendly chat, hmm?” Understanding quickly, Bolt nodded and smiled congenially. Closing down his computer, he stood up and nodded indicating that the tiger should lead the way. Yuri turned, and began to make his way towards the elevator. Glancing back briefly, to ensure that Bolt was coming along. Given the size of the cat, Bolt had to take a step and a half for every step the tiger took. The subtle waddle the husky was unconsciously exhibiting slightly was now more apparent. Suspicions confirmed, the tiger turned to face forward with a look of satisfaction on his muzzle. “It’ll be the grey minivan, the company likes its Chrystlers.” Yuri spoke, his tone a low rumble as the two entered the elevator and the tiger pressed a button marked ‘G’ while Bolt nodded in response. The two stood silently in the elevator, waiting patiently for the lift to descend down to the parking garage several levels beneath the ground floor. The company building itself was relatively massive, sporting fourteen proud stories above and three below. The two were stationed on the fifth floor, so the descent was relatively brief. Ding! The elevator doors opened to reveal rows of sparsely populated parking spots, the smell of concrete with a hint of car exhaust hitting their nostrils as Yuri led the way. “I’m parked towards the back.” He stated simply, his smirk hidden behind his turned back as he heard the husky behind him pick up speed to keep pace with him. Everything is running smoothly… “Alright, take a look at what I’ve got here for you!” Speaking confident, he opened the passenger side door with a flourish to reveal what was inside. It took Bolt a moment to process what he was seeing. In front of him appeared to be a baby’s carseat, except no ordinary one. This particular seat looked large enough to comfortably seat him, with an impressively robust five point harness that looked as if not even Yuri would be able to break through it. Stunned, the husky stood open mouthed for a few seconds while he tried to process what he was looking at. This was exactly the opportunity that Yuri and Cinder were looking for. “Now, before we get you snuggly buckled up for your car ride little guy, let’s check something really quick.” Unable to react in time, Yuri placed his hands underneath the husky’s armpits and raised him up effortlessly. Taken by surprise, Bolt let out a whimper while his legs dangled helplessly behind him. As suddenly as he had been picked up, he felt something fiddling with the front of his belt buckle. Twisting around, his cheeks burning bright red, he was able to catch a glimpse of the Caracal he had seen wandering around the office earlier trying to undo his pants. At last he succeeded accompanied by an exclamation. “Aha! There we are.” His pants now around his ankles, Bolt’s choice of underwear that morning was now on full display for both of the large cats to examine. “Just as I thought, we have a little puppy on our hands.” Yuri stated, a condescending but not unkindly tone in his voice. Bolt was now blushing furiously, his tail curled between his legs in a vain attempt to hide the large, white diaper that hugged his waist snuggly. It was apparent to both of the onlookers that it was designed with both comfort and absorbance in mind, as a trail of puppy paws ran from the front middle all the way through the back. “You won’t be needing these, I don’t think.” As Bolt spluttered, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and smallness washing over him as he continued to be held up in the air, Cinder delicately disentangled his pants from his ankles. Now, he wore only his work shirt and sneakers, which made him feel incredibly exposed. The tiger looked him up and down, an expression of approval across his muzzle while Cinder neatly folded the husky’s pants and placed them under his right arm. “Cinder, do me the favor of checking the puppy’s diaper, would you?” At the direct mention of his padding, the husky’s ears folded against the top of his head. Tail tucked between his legs, cheeks burning, and ears pinned, the canine was the spitting image of an utterly flustered pup. Grinning, Cinder placed an authoritative paw over the front of the dog’s thick padding, squeezing gently before cupping the back in turn. Pressing it upwards, as if to further remind Bolt of what he was wearing, the caracal shook his head as he replied. “Still dry, surprisingly enough,” Cinder commented. “Well then, I think we should do something about that,” said Yuri, giving the husky a large, toothy smile before depositing him into the oversized booster seat. “W-wait a second! I一mmpf!” Bolt, having finally been able to find his voice, barely managed to splutter out a complete sentence before he was silenced by Cinder, who had apparently been waiting for such a moment. Crossing his eyes, Bolt looked down to see what had interrupted his exclamation while Cinder tightened something behind his head. His vision obscured by the caracal’s red-orange fur, the husky only became aware that he had been fully buckled into the carseat when he felt the harness tighten over his shoulders, waist, and onto the front of his diaper pressing it up against him. The husky’s heart was now beating quickly, limbs flailing. As if in anticipation of this, Yuri swiftly grabbed each of his wrists and looped them through soft, padded cuffs. His wrists now suspended by his head, his arms held upwards in an incredibly vulnerable position, he found that he was no longer able to struggle as effectively as before. Cinder had grabbed his ankles and pulled them through a similar set of cuffs that prevented him from raising his ankles more than a few inches away from the bottom of the carseat. Both cats stepped back and took a moment to admire their handiwork. Bolt looked down to see what they had done to him, a lock glowed softly from a small panel that served as the center-point for all of the buckles. From what the husky could gather, the locking mechanism appeared to be activated by a touchscreen, the key to which he was sure was possessed only by the two felines in front of him. “Aww, I think he looks pretty cute! That pacifier won’t let much more than a whimper through, pup. So you can whine all you want on the ride home!” Cinder extended a wiry arm forward, gently booping the tip of the husky’s snoot. Yuri appeared pleased as well, his arms crossed and looking down at the incapacitated fur as if he were appraising a prized possession. Speaking softly, and without breaking his gaze at the pup, he placed a car key into Cinder’s paws. “Yes, I think he does. Take the highway, kitten.” It was Cinder’s turn to blush, which he barely managed to conceal as he lowered his vision and nodded, opening the door next to Bolt’s and sitting himself down in front of the wheel. Moving with the impressive display of control that all large cats appeared to inherently possess, Yuri sat down in the seat next to Cinder's, looking back at Bolt in the rear view mirror. “I encourage you to behave, puppy. This will be fun.” With that statement hanging in the air, Cinder pulled out of the parking garage and had merged into city traffic within a few minutes. Bolt was still trying to process what had just happened to him. The two cats had seemingly quickly found out about his little secret before he had had the chance to react. He was now pacified, gagged, restrained, and being transported to who-knows-where. Despite himself, to make matters even worse, he was beginning to feel himself become aroused at the restrictive tightness that five-point harness seemed to impose on the front of his padding. Wrapping over his shoulder, with three straps ensuring that his waist and diaper were snuggly pressed against him, there seemed to be no hope of escape. He was completely at the mercy of the felines sitting in the front seats of the car. The car ride passed in silence, Bolt pulled helplessly at the restraints holding his limbs hostage but to no avail. Yuri would occasionally look up in the rearview mirror, Bolt could see that his eyes were wrinkled as if he were smiling, hidden from view from the husky’s limited line of sight. Whatever the tiger was thinking, it was causing him great pleasure.
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This story is a sequel of my former story Happy Family. Prologue: When the mysterious regression machine was transported from the Happy Family villa to the city university, a research program started. The IT experts wanted to reprogram the machine to return the transformed children back to their original age and condition. The research program was advancing slowly for two basic reasons. One of them was - as expected - money, and the second one was the lack of volunteers. Surprisingly, the research program started anew suddenly but the experts changed their behavior; they didn’t want to talk about their tasks. All rooms in the regression machine research department were locked and a guard was posted to the entrance. Nobody at the university knew about the guard and the program change but the experts themselves. Part 1: Claire opened her eyes and tried to remember what had happened to her. Her last memory was the court and some words about an alternative sentence. Everything else seemed to be hidden in a fog. She was not an angel and that was not her first verdict. Claire became a member of a criminal gang and she took part in several armed robberies. During the last robbery she shot a police officer dead. “She is a dangerous person and we have to take appropriate measures to assure public safety …” the words of the DA emerged from the fog “I require the hardest sentence … the death sentence.” Was she dead? Was this heaven … or hell? Claire didn’t have any idea about what heaven or hell looked like. When she looked around, she recognized a nursery. It looked real; no clouds, no angels, no cauldrons with boiling tar and no devils. She definitely was not dead. Why was she in a nursery? She lifted her head and looked at her body. To her utter shock she looked at a toddler. Her size matched a two or three year old child. Her clothing consisted of a toddler dress and tights and … there was a thick package between her legs. She realized she was wearing a diaper. The package was uncomfortably thick and kept her legs apart. What had happened? Claire sat up and looked around again. She was sitting inside a crib and there were three more cribs in the room. Two of them were occupied by toddlers; one of them was apparently even younger than her, about one year old. The other one was as old as her. “Hey, where are we?” Claire asked the toddler. According to the clothing it was a boy. “In the hell.,” he answered, “my name is Mark. You are new here.” “Yeah, I am and my name is Claire,” Claire replied to him, “How so? There are no devils here.” “I’m afraid there are. Be ready for the worst.” “Who are you?” “I don’t remember much but I think I was sentenced to death.” “I think I was, too. But … we are alive.” “I’m afraid it is no win.” “What is going on here?” “No idea but I’ve been here for about two weeks. I have to wear diapers and I occasionally pee myself but I think I’d be able to go to the toilet. However, the damn nurses keep me in diapers and I can’t remove them. My fingers are too clumsy. My legs also are wobbly and I keep stumbling and falling down.” Claire sighed and tried to stand up. The package between her legs made her attempt hard and she was standing with her legs wide apart. Fortunately, her legs seemed to be strong and she could stand despite the uncomfortable position. She grabbed the rim of the tights and pulled it down a bit to see the diaper package. Several cloth diapers were covered by rubber pants. She tried to unbutton the rubber pants but her fingers were clumsy and she couldn’t do it. Her bladder was full and the urge to pee hit her. She instinctively reached between her legs and pressed against the diaper. The attempt to close or cross her legs definitely failed. “Claire, don’t fight and pee in the diaper; you don’t have any other option left.” “Oh no; it’s embarrassing.” “Get used to it as soon as possible. They probably think you are an actual toddler.” “They?” “Those who did something to us. I experienced a very bad treatment but I can give you useful advice; pretend to be an actual toddler and your life here will be better. The little Elaine,” he pointed at the little baby in the third crib,”looks quite satisfied but she can’t speak at all. All she has to endure are dirty diapers.” “How so?” “Our diapers are changed in the morning and in the evening. They are thick enough to keep our pee and poo in the meantime.” “Okay then,” Claire sighed and relaxed her muscles. The hot pee soaked the diaper and it got wet and heavy. It definitely was embarrassing and Claire blushed. At that moment steps could be heard from outside and Allan reacted immediately: “Hey, don’t forget; you are an actual toddler. Maybe you even can’t speak. Try to stay in that role.” Claire nodded and she somehow managed to control her blush and kept silent when the door opened and an older woman appeared in the doorframe. She was carrying a tray with three baby bottles. “Hey, Mark; your bottle,” she took one of the bottles and passed it to Mark. He grabbed it and drank thirstily; his throat was probably dry. “Now to you, Claire. Welcome to the State Research Centre. Drink now and you will go to the examination. Do you understand me?” Claire almost replied but she remembered Mark’s words and shook her head and stretched her arm to take the bottle. ”Oh, another failure! The agents won’t be pleased.” the woman sighed but she realized she’s just told what she wasn’t supposed to. However, she relied on the fact that the damn creatures didn’t understand her. She proceeded to the little Elaine and held the bottle so Elaine could drink. Meanwhile Claire and Mark drank up the juice; the woman gathered the bottles and left the room. “Hey, what agents? Are we in a B-class spy movie?” Claire couldn’t accept what she just heard. “I have no idea but I have experienced several examinations already. They checked my muscle coordination and vocal and mental abilities.” “What did they find?” “Unfortunately, I replied to their first simple questions but I realized quickly what was going on and pretended to be retarded. Now they have stopped examinations but I don’t know what will happen to me.” Ten minutes later the woman returned and she lifted Claire from the crib. “Can you walk?” She put the little girl on the floor but didn’t try to hold her if Claire stumbled. Claire stepped forward carefully and she was able to waddle with the package between her legs. The wet diaper was softer and she could walk a little better. They left the nursery and the nurse led Claire down a long corridor. Claire tried to watch the surroundings and stay inconspicuous. She noticed several more nurseries but she also noticed a room where adult sized persons were trained in some way. Some of them were diapered and all had a void look in their eyes. A man in the army uniform - a high ranked officer apparently - issued commands and the persons seemed to be mindless machines and obeyed those commands. The door was open but the officer hurried up and shut it with a loud thump when he noticed the nurse and Claire. A cold chill ran down Claire’s spine. Although she wasn’t educated, she was bright and intelligent and she also had a lot of life experience. Her mind worked like a swiss watch. She somehow got into some kind of army related plot and she was in real danger. Mark’s advice proved very useful. Maybe she had a chance if she was considered little and helpless. She wouldn’t become a threat then. The nurse stopped in front of a door and knocked on it. “Come in”, a male voice replied. “Sir, I have escorted Claire Bakers at your command. She is ready for the examination.” Claire stayed calm this time; she had managed to get ready for the upcoming events. Mark and the room with mindless persons had warned her already. She didn’t react at all and waited. The nurse opened the door and pushed her inside. “Claire?” a man in a doctor-like outfit asked her. “A - a - a,” Claire nodded and tried to stay calm. “You can’t speak! You are a big girl though!” the man pushed her more. “O - o - o,” Claire nodded. A real toddler would be proud of the sounds. “Okay, walk around!” the man continued and Claire waddled around in front of him. The wet diaper was rubbing against her crotch and it was a bit unpleasant. “Come and look at the cubes. Build a tower!” There were several cubes sitting on a small table but Claire tried to stay in the role of a little girl and looked at the man as if she didn’t understand. The man sighed heavily and walked over to the table and built a tower of five cubes. Claire followed him clumsily and tried to do it but her fingers really were clumsy and she failed at the third cube. The next attempt was more successful but she didn’t finish the tower anyway. “Anything to report, nurse?” The man turned to the nurse. “Nothing, sir. She was delivered two hours ago and she was able to hold her baby bottle. That’s all.” “Well, lead her back and we will decide upon her tomorrow,” he sighed, “The commander won’t be pleased.” The nurse grabbed Claire at hand and dragged her out of the room. Claire looked at the watch; it was almost noon.
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? Matilda the Bear By Horatio Husky Commission for ArtMckinley Chapter I. Matilda inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as the night air of the forest filled her spirit lungs and nostrils with a sweet, damp scent. The leaves and branches crunched satisfyingly underneath her large foot paws as she walked along her usual midnight stroll, the bottom of her dress billowing beneath her but above the dew covered grass, keeping itself away from its moisture. The being had dressed herself in a maternal looking apron on top of her dress, resembling the image of a motherly caretaker from decades past. She always had a habit of taking a while to catch up to modern fashions, and enjoyed staying a little behind in the times. Her figure was still intimidating despite her motherly appearance, long brown hair, a towering height of well over seven feet, and as with most females bear spirits she bore heavy set breasts and large arms and legs. As a spirit, however, she wasn’t bothered by her appearance, and fully embraced her largeness with a positive personality. Not to mention, she had other worries than how she looked. Her concerns were with the locals and their relation to the forest, keeping sure that each stayed where they belonged and didn’t bother each other too much. That’s when the car with its brights on and music blaring decided to park by the side of the road bordering the forest, her ears perked up, and she followed the source of the noise. Goodness me! If this is Tom again getting home late and drunk his wife isn’t the only one that is going to have strong words with him, she thought to herself annoyedly, remembering how one of the locals had a bad habit of drinking and driving, and how on multiple occasions she had to nurse him back to health herself. The distinct smell of booze was in the air as she approached, her sensitive nostrils picking up a few other choice scents as she drew closer. Are those teenagers out again sleeping with each other away from their parents? Goodness me the youth today truly are shameless! At last she stood next to the car by the passenger side window, she leaned over and peeked inside. Much to her horror, the scene before her was uglier than any she had seen before. Covered in sweat and runny make-up a girl who looked to be in her early twenties lay in the driver’s seat, her breath reeking of alcohol as she moaned to herself loudly, her right hand stuck in the front of her pants working its way in and out of what Matilda presumed to be her unspeakables. Several black highlights were present in her dirty blonde hair, and she was clad in what was in Matilda’s opinion, “Scant, modern rags.” “What do you think you’re doing, young lady? Do you know what time it is? And goodness gracious, do you have any idea how naughty this behavior is! Drunk and touching yourself in the middle of the forest, tsk tsk. You do know that it's a school night and the squirrel kids have to be up bright and early to go to their nut-gathering classes! And don’t even get me started on the birds and worms!” The young woman started at first, turning to gaze at the forest spirit and narrowing her eyes, having difficulty focusing on her blacked out state. Suddenly comprehension dawned on her incapacitated state of mind, and she let out a yelp. “BEAR! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP THERE’S A BEAR OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!” She fumbled with her keys to get them into the ignition, but Matilda was too quick for her. “You’re not going anywhere tonight young lady, you’re coming with me!” Before she realized what was happening, the bear had walked around the front of the car, opened the driver’s seat, and gently extricated the young lady from her car. Cradling her gently in her arms, she entered into a brisk walk back into the forest towards her home, the young lady blinking and trying to come to her senses while the world spun around her. “L-let me go! I don’t want to be eaten! W-why are you talking anyway… What are you… You’re a bear!” The young woman’s words slurred, which only added to Matilda’s disapproval, “Your behavior is absolutely inappropriate, young lady, a fine thing such as yourself has so much more potential in this world. Ladies like you should be in school learning to make the world a better place, not ravaging through drink and self-indulgence! And if not school you should be finding yourself a husband or wife! This really doesn’t suit you.” The young woman was now utterly confused. Why is this bear talking to me like she’s my mom? Did somebody slip something into my drink and now I’m hallucinating? Before long the party of two had arrived at Matilda’s cottage, a humble looking abode with smoke coming out of a chimney in the back and a comfortable looking porch in the front. “Let’s get you cleaned up now and perhaps something warm in your stomach, if it can handle it. How does that sound, kitten?” ‘Kitten’ blinked her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. The inside of the cottage looked nothing like she expected it too. They hadn’t entered a one room building like she expected, but they were now standing in the front hallway of what looked to be quite a large house. As her blurry vision cleared slightly, she saw a staircase leading up to a second floor, and several rooms connecting to each other on the first floor including a kitchen, living room, and what she presumed to be a dining room. “How… What… Wh-” “Hush now dearest, we need to get you cleaned up and in your crib! It’s way past your bed-time.” The young lady was now utterly confused, and almost completely convinced that what she was experiencing was either a hallucination or a drunkenly induced dream. “I’m never drinking again…” she muttered to herself, rather unconvincingly. “Well that’s a start at least! There’s plenty of other things I’ll be training out of you, but that's the one that’s definitely near the top of the list!” After wiping her foot-paws on the rug near the front of the door and locking the door behind her, the bear carried her charge up the stairs of her home and turned a corner, leading them into a white, spacious bathroom. Patterns of smiling ducks, sailors, and beach animals decorated the walls, and a large bathtub in the corner decorated the interior of the bathroom space. Before she had time to marvel at how clean and pristine the bear kept the place looking, Kitten found the bear was now tugging at her clothing, stripping her down naked. “What are you doing!? D-don’t take my clothes off!” The bear stopped for a moment, a patient expression on her muzzle as she set the girl down on the counter. Adopting a chiding tone, she explained, “Now now little one, I can’t get you cleaned up if you’re still wearing all this icky clothing! Not to mention they’re not fit for somebody as pretty as you. Be good now!” She shook her head, still protesting, “Stop touching my clothes you stupid bitch, I told you I didn’t want your help!” Suddenly the world shifted and turned almost upside down. Before she knew it, she was lying stomach down in the bear’s lap. “What are you- OWW!” Whap! went Matilda’s paw as she spanked her charge’s now exposed behind. She cried out, much to her own surprise as tears poured down her cheeks. Matilda tutted under her breath and continued to rhythmically deliver punishment onto her kitten’s behind. “Now look what I have to do, I don’t like giving spankings but you have simply given me no choice. I bet your mother would not approve of the potty mouth that you have developed either!” At this point the girl was now sobbing, snot coming out of her nostrils as the tears further smudged her already spread make-up. Matilda’s ears perked up, as she heard the human mutter and babble out what sounded like a pitiful apology. She quirked an eyebrow, and paused a little longer before she delivered the next smack on the quickly reddening cheeks of her charge. Well that was quick… She seems to be pretty malleable in this state… Hmm… Perhaps…? Speaking in a clear voice, she paused after her 19th spank and addressed the pitiful looking girl in her lap in an authoritative tone. “Now then, are you going to be speaking like that to Mama Bear ever again? Or do I have to show you more of what girls with potty mouths get?” Practically blubbering, the young woman shook her head and managed to stammer out, “N-no… I’m not going to s-speak like that to you again… P-promise!” She spoke, her words intermixed with hiccups and shaking sobs. Matilda realized that she was barely lucid as she lay completely still and limp in her lap, unable to resist the punishment that she had been delivering on her bare behind. She continued, maintaining the same dominating tone of voice as she further chastised, “I thought so! Drinking and touching yourself and staying out late at night, not to mention driving under the influence! You’ve been a very, very naughty girl and you’re going to get even more spanking if you keep this up! You’re lucky I’m letting you off tonight because you’re tired and probably are in great need of a bath and a good night’s sleep! Are you going to behave for me while I clean you up, young lady?” Nodding emphatically, the girl continued to sob and pant in Matilda’s lap. Matilda gently lifted her charge up and laid her head against her shoulder, standing up and supporting her underneath her bottom as she did so. “Now then, let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” Gently carrying her over to the bathtub she deposited her inside, turning the water on and tugging off the young woman’s shirt, the last of the clothing that she had been wearing. “Now, what should we call you?” Matilda mused to herself out loud, as she turned on the warm water and adjusted the girl’s body into a rough sitting position, pouring some shampoo into the water as it began to rise up around her legs. “Hmm… I think Annie would suit you quite nicely, don’t you think so dear?” Annie’s eyes fluttered in response, and she groaned softly, her brow furrowing in a contorted, pained expression. A second trickle sounded in the air, and Matilda quickly realized that her blacked out charge was now adding her own urine to the bathwater. “Goodness me! It’s a good thing we got you in the bath before you soiled yourself! We’re going to have to do something about that if you’re going to be sleeping on my bed sheets! Now, I should still have the nursery set up.” Turning off the faucets she drained the bath before turning on the hot water once more. Retrieving a large rag she dipped it into the steaming water and started to gently wash the girl’s body, holding her various limbs and taking great care that her washing felt soft and gentle. The bear began to hum a tune under her breath as she worked away, speaking softly and cooing over Annie as she washed the make-up from her face and dabbed at her sensitive bits, ensuring that she was clean from top to bottom. “That should do it, all squeaky clean! Let’s get you dried then.” She turned off the water and pulled the plug, letting the bathwater and soap suds swirl away as she picked Annie up and out of the tub, laying her down on a towel she had spread on the bathroom floor. Annie could barely comprehend what was happening to her as Matilda ruffled her short, tomboyish hair in a towel and wrapped her up in the one she was laying on. Satisfied that she was dry, the bear scooped her up, still wrapped in the towel and carried her out of the bathroom. Walking down the hallway she took a left before she entered a room that Annie thought must have been a figment of her imagination. It looked like a regular nursery, except every piece of furniture, toys, and even the diapers beneath the changing table seemed to be oversized. Annie blinked twice, her vision still blurry, and a singular thought bubbled up to the surface of her drunken mind, “I crashed my car, hit my head, and now I’m seeing things…”
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This is not my first story but I'm hardly a prolific writer and this probably isn't the best story, but it aims to be fun at least: After a long day at work I find myself sitting alone at a table in an upscale restaurant, patiently waiting for my date to turn arrive, sipping on a delightful cocktail I checked my phone, she had already messaged to say she was running late and that i should get seated and have a drink. I skim through her profile again. "Angelique" 32, 6' 2" doesn't smoke, drinks socially, omnivore Enjoys good food, cooking, cocktails, twilight strolls, good conversation, reading, philosophy travel, design, architecture and art. Dislikes assholes, asparagus, snakes and churches. Tucked away at the bottom "prefers miss our ma'am unless otherwise instructed" While reading this and committing it to memory I hear some heels clicking across the stone floor of the restaurant, glancing up i see a woman looking very much like the photos on the internet, dressed to the nines in a perfectly fitting red dress, I resist the urge to pinch myself to ensure i hadn't drifted into the realm of fantasy. As she walks to the table i can't help but notice that she doesn't so much walk as glide, walking with an elegance and poise I've not quite seen before. As the waiter escorted her to the table I stand to greet her, now somewhat awestruck. Usually when you met people the photos are an idealized curated representation here it was quite the opposite. she had dark hair and milky white skin that almost seemed to shine, silver and diamond jewelry complemented the effect. We sit again and I have to force myself to get some words out: "Good evening Miss, I hope this isn't too forward of me, but you look absolutely stunning" Immediately Angelique smiled "Thank you sweetie, you're looking adorable yourself" I'm wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a red brocade waistcoat. "Dress smart, wear something red" was one of her instructions when we were setting this rendezvous up. "So, I see you can read and follow instructions" Angelique beamed "this seems to be a rare quality in boys these days, please call me Angelique" I feel myself blushing both at the tone and the very fact I'm was being complimented, it's not something I'm particularly used to. "Thank You, Angelique, I do my best" We peruse the menu for a moment "have you been here before?" I ask " do you have any suggestions?" "yes, absolutely this is one of my favorites, you can't go wrong with anything, they're known for the steak but the seafood dishes are great too and the brussel sprouts here are amazing" "Thanks, I was leaning towards the dry aged rib eye, and brussel sprouts are literally my favorite" as i say this i also shuddered slightly at the price of it. If the choice of restaurant was anything to go by Angelique certainly had expensive tastes, in the back of my mind i hoped she'd volunteer to split the bill, while spending a couple hundred dollars on a meal wouldn't break the bank it was far more than i would usually spend, especially on a first date. Angelique looked up from the wine list "do you like red wine? They have one of my favorites if you'd like to split it?" "Absolutely, I'm not the biggest wine connoisseur but I definitely enjoy it" Exactly on queue as if summoned the waiter appears. "Are you ready to order madame or do you need some more time?" "No, we're ready. We'll start with the scallops, I'll go for a New York strip, rare, he'll have the ribeye, medium rare and we'll split the brussel sprouts. Also the 2016 reserve Cabernet" After taking the menus we're left alone again. At this point I'm a little flushed, I've never had someone order for me in a restaurant especially not on a first date and I'm really liking where this is going. I run though a the profile in my head trying to think of something to talk about. "So, I read on your profile you're into philosophy, do you have any favorite philosophers?" Maybe a little heavy for a first topic but we'll see where this goes "oh absolutely I've always been partial to Nietzsche, I love what he has to say about exceptional people and how we should seek to be truly exceptional and live by our own internal code" For the next 2 hours the conversation flows we span multiple subjects and I can't find a single subject that she doesn't seem extremely well versed, with a depth of knowledge that I wonder where she finds the time to learn all of this, we go on journeys down rabbit holes I don't even know exist. The meal as promised was exquisite with everything being perfectly cooked and seasoned, eventually with the wine gone and having polished off a cheese plate it comes time to leave. The waiter brings the check and curiously hands it's directly to Angelique. I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. Angelique smiles again "don't be silly sweetheart, I've got this" she says Again I find myself blushing "are you sure? I could get this? Or we could split it?" "Do I look confused?" She retorts in a stern but still caring tone "now put that away and let me get this" The restaurant is a short walk from my apartment but she had mentioned getting driven here. "Can I wait with you until your car arrives?" I ask, hoping to prolong the evening just that little bit longer. "Of course you can sweetie" we walk outside the restaurant but again exactly like with the waiter a black Mercedes pulls up as if summoned out of the ether, I haven't seen her touch a phone or anything. "This is me" she says "I really enjoyed our dinner" before giving me a chance to reply she pops a single kiss on my cheek and jumps into the car. At this point the walk home is a daze, I'm almost floating. Drunk on infatuation and excitement (and a bottle of wine for good measure) Arriving home I mix myself an old fashioned and sit on the sofa to reflect. My phone bings telling me I have another match on the dating app, I would normally be taking a look, but it no longer seems worthwhile. I glance at my profile. Alex Evans, 30, 5' 11" It goes into some depth but the gist of it is I'm a nerd and an engineer who enjoys making things (food, beer, trebuchet etc) I wonder what made me catch the eye of this incredible woman, do I deserve her and while she might have paid this time, I can't afford that kind of restaurant every day. As fun as the evening has been, all things must come to an end and I head to bed and collapse face forward into it, falling asleep almost instantly.
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Curse of the Crinkle Crate Composed by Horatio Husky Featuring and Commissioned by Kazard the Fox! Chapter 1 The Box I… Want… Couch Time… Now… were the thoughts of a certain blonde-haired fox, as he absentmindedly fumbled with the keys to his small, cozy home. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyelids half open in a vacant stare as he maneuvered his key into the lock of his front door. The day had been absolutely miserable, all of his clients had been in a bad temper when he spoke with them about their problems, and one of them even seemed to believe that the fox didn’t really know what he was doing. Of course, he knew what he was doing! He’d graduated top of his class by no small miracle, the fox was very talented at his work, but the lack of appreciation and frustration that was thrust upon him by his clients was not something studying could have prepared him for. At last, the key turned, and the door swung wide open, shouldering his bag he strode inside and carelessly dropped it in the front hallway, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him with a click, locking it once more. Give… Me… That… Couch… thought the fox once more, as he strode into his living room. However, his couch did not seem to be on the agenda just yet, for the fox almost tripped over a wooden box in the center of the room. Kaz was taken aback, how had this gotten in his home? He didn’t remember lugging a rather plain, heavy looking wooden box into his home. Its dimensions were around two feet by two feet, and a foot and a half tall. Kneeling down, his tail now twitching with apparent interest and curiosity he inspected it closer to find that its lid was hinged, with the front opening to the container facing towards him. What on earth… Did somebody break in and leave this here? He thought to himself, as he reached forward with a paw and tentatively opened the strange box. The lid thumped onto his carpet as he gazed into what was held within the strange item, and was even more confused to see that the box only contained two items in it. A thick square of plastic upon closer inspection Kaz found to be a white, adult diaper, and a note next to it, written in fancy cursive. He picked it up, his eyebrows furrowing as he perused through a short poem, a strange feeling of warmth he didn’t recognize bubbling up in his insides as he did so. For a year and a day obedient shall you be, To the rules and whims of the box at your knee, Letters and rules shall be provided from these wooden confines, Giving you instructions, tasks, items, and lines, And lest you not listen to my behest, Shall you not have your day-to-day be the best! For control and independence are no longer yours From now you’ll always be clad in diapers! Diapers? Control? Is this all some sort of prank that got delivered into my house that one of my friends managed to sneak in? He turned the note over and found that more was written on the back of it, this time not in the mysterious cursive font as on the front. The rules are simple, Kazard. For a year and a day you will be completely unable to control your bladder nor your bowel, making it that at any time whatsoever, you will completely and utterly mess and wet yourself anywhere you are. Within this box, you will find your solution to this new conundrum in your life, which you have agreed to participate in by opening this box. Whenever you open this box you will be supplied with plain white diapers perfectly matched to handle whatever punishment you give them. It is recommended that you also invest in other supplies related to padding, such as powder and anti-rash cream, but those are up to your discretion. You may try and not wear your diapers, but you will find that it is wiser to comply with the rules and keep yourself nice and secure; your continence will not return either if you do not obey the rules set before you. If you wish to communicate with the box, you must do so through a bargain written on a note to express your wishes. However, be warned: the box is liable to interpret and balance any request or boon as it wishes if whatever you offer is not of equal value, so it may be wisest to obey as instructed and keep yourself diapered at all times of the day, otherwise, the consequences will be severe. With that, we hope you enjoy your next trip around the sun padded up! This has to be a joke… Boxes that interpret poetry and supply diapers whenever opened? This isn’t even a funny prank, this is pathetic. The fox dropped the diaper and note back into the box with contempt, what a stupid thing to waste his time with. He got up, the couch now forgotten as his stomach rumbled its hunger aloud to the room. He padded over to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and rummaging through his dry food cabinet, retrieving a large bag of chips. He held the bag in his maw as he stretched, reaching up to the higher shelf to grab himself a chocolate bar. It was just out of his reach, and he strained, leaning against the counter to support his weight as he grasped after his sweet. The counter must have been wet, however, for he looked down as he felt something damp against him. The bag of chips dropped out of his mouth and onto the counter below him. The counter hadn’t been wet, no. It was he who had gotten wet.
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Prologue: “Mirjam Hellberg, you have been convicted of witchcraft and sentenced to death by burning,” the voice of the Head Inquisitor sounded around the crowded place in Uddevalla. The crowd roared in agreement. “Burn her … she is a witch … burn her.” The executioner's assistant was approaching the bonfire and holding a burning torch in his hand. A young girl was tied up to a stake in the middle of the bonfire and the Head Inquisitor was holding a crucifix in front of her face. “Admit your guilt and the Lord will save your soul from eternal damnation!” the Head Inquisitor continued. Mirjam didn’t say anything. She wasn’t aware of any witchcraft and she hardly was able to speak at all. Her body was badly hurt after all the torture she had to undergo. Although she never talked about witchcraft, the Inquisitor twisted her words. Now she was about to be burnt at stake in front of a cheering crowd. All she was able to do was shake her head. “You are stubborn and you will be swallowed by the deepest hell. Set off the fire!” The executioner’s assistant put the torch to the bonfire and the flames were approaching the poor girl. Mirjam was a religious girl and she didn’t understand why she was charged with witchcraft. She became an innocent victim of an evil plot but she couldn’t know it. She refused any charges and she started praying silently before the flames swallowed her body. ‘My Lord, help me please. I’m no witch and I always was your loyal servant. I don’t want to suffer anymore.’ To her utter surprise she heard a silent voice in her mind. ‘Mirjam, child, I know that you are an innocent victim and I will provide you a second chance to live. Even more, you get a gift from me.’ ‘Thank you, my Lord. You are that generous,” Mirjam answered silently. ‘You have been charged with witchcraft and you are not a witch. You will get actual witchcraft powers in your second life but promise me not to abuse those powers.’ ‘Oh no please. Won’t I be burnt at stake again?’ ‘No, Mirjam. You will spend your second life in another time when witches won’t be burnt at stake. Anyway, be careful.’ ‘I’m not sure, my Lord.’ ‘Don’t be afraid and trust me. The witchcraft powers aren’t bad as long as you don’t abuse them.’ ‘I promise, my Lord.’ a tear appeared in her eye. ‘See you in your second life, daughter.’ At that moment Mirjam passed out and she didn’t have to suffer the burning anymore. The crowd was disappointed when they didn’t hear any screams of pain. An hour later the fire went off and the remnants of Mirjam’s body were thrown into a nearby river. Part 1: Mirjam wasn’t able to understand where she was. There was darkness all around and she could hear a heartbeat nearby. She was squeezed into a small place and she hardly could move. Minutes later she realized something strange; she was not breathing. How was it possible? Everyone had to breathe to stay alive. All of sudden she realized the heartbeat; it was not hers. “How is my little girl doing?” A female voice sounded nearby but Mirjam heard it in a strange way as if it was coming from inside. She was a clever girl and put two and two together. The only option was that she was an unborn baby inside her new mother’s body. The place around her was a womb. Mirjam didn’t know about the human body but she had seen pregnant women and guessed what was going on. This was her new life and she had to start it from the very beginning. ‘My Lord, is this my new life?’ She decided to ask God first. ‘Yeah, my child. Get prepared to live in another and unknown world. You skipped 300 years and you are about to become the third child in a loving family. Don’t worry and enjoy it.’ ‘What about the gift, my Lord? I’m a bit afraid.’ ‘Don’t be afraid. You can read thoughts, talk without opening your mouth and you can move some items. None of this should be dangerous.’ ‘Thank you, my Lord.’ Mirjam suddenly got curious about the new life. What changed in 300 years? How will her new family accept her and her new powers? She also didn’t know how much time was left until labor. “Hey, Gudrun, do you have a name for our baby? You have been thinking of it for two months already,” a man’s voice sounded from outside. “Olaf, I can’t decide and I even don’t know if it is a boy or a girl.” All of sudden Mirjam didn’t resist the temptation and decided to try out her new powers. ‘A girl,’ she told her mom silently. ‘Mirjam.’ Gudrun was taken aback by the voice in her mind. What should it mean? She never heard voices before. Was it possible or was she getting insane? She startled but she continued instantly. “It is a girl and I have a wonderful name for her, Mirjam.” “Mirjam is a wonderful name but how do you know the gender? You didn’t want to know it though when you were at the ultrasonic exam.” “I know it. Trust me.” Gudrun suddenly was sure but she didn’t know why. Although the voice was strange, she didn’t worry. Mirjam was taken aback by the unknown words. What was an ultrasonic exam? She didn’t have the slightest idea and she was getting curious and wanted to learn more. However, who could tell her about it? “Mommy, mommy; will I have a sister?” an excited childish voice sounded from outside and Mirjam smiled. It definitely was a little girl. “Yeah, Kirsten; you’ll get a baby sister soon.” “Can I listen to her, mommy?” “Of course, my little one.” Mirjam felt a pressure from outside and she realized that something pressed against her mom’s belly; it was Kirsten’s head probably. Mirjam was amused by the little girl and she almost talked to her but it wasn’t a good idea. Instead, Mirjam moved her leg and pressed against the head from inside. “Mommy, she kicked me,” Kirsten laughed. “Babies sometimes do it, Kirsten,” Gudrun’s voice sounded amused. Meanwhile Mirjam felt an urge to pee. She got worried; how could she pee in her present condition inside her mother’s body? However, she didn’t have any option left but to relax the muscles. Just like every unborn baby, she peed into the amniotic fluid and wasn’t aware of it. The little girl ran away and Gudrun was alone. She started thinking of the mysterious voice. Was she getting insane? She lied down on the couch and collected her courage. She wanted to ask the mysterious voice but Mirjam was quicker. ‘Mommy, you are not getting insane,' the voice sounded in her mind. ‘How do you know about it? Who are you?’ Gudrun asked the voice silently. ‘Who? I am Mirjam, your daughter.’ ‘What does it mean? How can we talk?’ ‘I prayed to our Lord and He was generous and provided me with this gift. Sorry but I read your worries about getting insane.’ Gudrun was a religious woman and she was willing to believe in miracles; however she never experienced an actual miracle. 'Is it a miracle?’ ‘I don’t know, mom.’ ‘Mirjam, you sound like an adult,’ Gudrun suddenly realized that the baby inside her had an adult mind. How should an unborn baby know about God and miracles? ‘Mom, it is a bit complicated; could you accept me like a smart baby and not ask about my past?’ ‘Past? Did you reincarnate?’ ‘Yeah but don’t ask me more please.’ ‘Okay, you will be my beloved baby.’ ‘Thanks, mom. When will I be born?’ ‘In two weeks I think.’ ‘I can’t wait to see you, mom.’ ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you as well, my little one.’ Gudrun relaxed and her eyes closed. In her dreams she saw little Mirjam talking with her and a smile appeared on her lips. While she was napping, the little Kirsten sneaked to her and put her head on her belly: “Sis, do you hear me?” Kirsten whispered so Gudrun couldn’t hear her. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘How can I hear you? Is it magic?’ Kirsten talked silently in her mind. She didn’t whisper anymore. ‘Yeah, it is magic,’ Mirjam replied. She realized that Kirsten was a little girl and she believed in fairy tales. Magic would be an acceptable explanation. ‘Will we talk more when you are born? It will be a fairy tale.’ ‘I will talk with you as much as you want. I’m your sister though.’ ‘Will we play?’ ‘Wait. I can’t play with you too much while I am a little baby. When I grow up, we can play together.’ ‘I love you sis.’ ‘I love you too,’ Mirjam was emotional; her new life seemed to be much better than the previous one; however she was worried about the changes in her new world. Kirsten’s eyes closed and she dozed off with her head sitting on Gudrun’s belly. Mirjam also was tired and she fell asleep.